#yes the second stranger is the only animation i made since Flash died

[some-mari-thoughts]

Listen Here, White Boy

Send help i got motivation to pick up Toonio again despite Toonator dying

[liquid-luck-00]

My Life is One Complication After Another 3

Cursing Ahead 🤬

Ao3 *** First *** Previous *** Next

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Ever since Mari's classmates stopped talking with her, they also stopped asking her for favors. Along with a blocked and rotating schedule for patrols meant that she actually had a sleep schedule. Sure she didn't get nearly enough but that was what coffee is for.

That was how she found herself down in the bakery with her papa. Roy had called her and the four of them talked and it was comfortable. Mari was the one who opened and was watching the front. She was still talking with Roy, but now it was on a headset, as he was out patrolling In Starling City.

"So as I was saying before we were oh so rudely interrupted." came Roy's voice in her ear. "So Ice cream and movies?"

A soft laughter escaped her and a smile on her lips.

"Sounds gre..." the bell at the door chimed. "Hey guys come in," she greeted the Waynes.

"Let me guess the bats?" Roy supplied as Dick bounced towards the counter.

"Good morning Marinette!" Dick practically sang loud enough for even Roy to hear.

"God how the hell is he so chipper so early." she heard Roy grumble.

"God damn morning people," she grumbled. That elicited laughter from both Roy and Jason.

"Amen to that!" Tim seconded in a monotone lifting a coffee cup. "Maman I'm going to take the Waynes up." she called poking her head into the kitchen. Her Maman nodded so she picked up her phone and walked towards them.

"I'll Let you go," Roy was about to hang up.

"Wait how about we give the Bats a heart attack." she smirked changing to the ancient language of miracles.

"I like the way you think, I'll catch you later." he responded in the same tongue.

"See ya then." she smiled, switching back the language. Ending the call and removing the ear piece. “Are you guys coming or do I have to drag you guys?" she turned back already at the door. Granted most of them showed confused faces and side eyes, but she smiled. They followed her without saying a word.

Once they were in the apartment she excused herself to change into more appropriate gear. She activated Kaalki’s miraculous, who then silently portaled out.

That being said she changed into a pair of black skinny cargo pants with red combat boots. A black long sleeve shirt under a cropped red sleeveless hoodie. Her hair was half down with red and pink streaks and a mini white gold backpack with three patches in the same white gold finished her outfit. She grabbed four parcels and went down.

"So we can either do the boring ground tour or," she held up the bundles. "we can turn up the speed."

"I like the way you think Pixie Pop." Jason stood and she handed him his.

"Roy sent me you guy's sizes, so I altered and customized a few things." she smiled. "bathroom is over there and the guest room is next to it." Dick looked torn between excited and horrified when handed his stack.

Tim seemed awake, but she knew better, "go change and I'll have a fresh pot of coffee ready." He nodded robotically as he got up.

She set the last bunch next to Damian, who was looking like an angry kitten. She sat down next to him and leaned in.

"What are you.." he started but Mari whispered in his ear.

"The jacket has a hidden sling for a katana, which will be practically invisible when on." His eyes widened slightly and there was a bit of slack in his jaw now. Before turning into an amused smirk. "Use my room up the stairs and through the hatch." she finished as he headed up the stairs.

"I'm impressed he let you close without struggling," Bruce broke his silence, as she finished prepping the coffee maker.

"Well he would have if," she began as Damian practically crashed down the stairs and all but tackled Bruce before rushing out the door. The closest she had ever seen her baby brother smile, which effectively made her smile.

"Holy crap! What are you?!" Dick made himself known.

"More importantly what the fuck did you do with Demon spawn!" Jason shouted from next to Tim, who was being propped up by both Jason and Dick.

"Tt. I am right here Todd." The scowl reappearing on his features. "It is adequate Dupain-Cheng."

"I'll take it as a compliment on one condition."

"And that is?" he rose a brow.

"You call me Marinette not Dupain-Cheng. I'm your sister aren't I?"

He seemed to war with himself for a moment before stating. "That is acceptable, Marinette."

At this point all the bats in the room were playing a game of ping-pong between Marinette and Damian. They were trying to figure out what magic spell Marinette must have used, when in reality she just seemed to fall into Damian’s good graces automatically. OK so maybe Marinette being the holder of the ladybug miraculous as well as being the great guardian of the order has that affect on most people, a sense of respect and trust that seems to permeate her aura.

She was handing Tim a huge mug as the front door swung open to reveal her Maman.

"Hello Bruce," Sabine greeted.

"It is good to see you Sabine," was his response.

“Maman," Mari pulled her mother's attention from her biological father. "These are Bruce's boys and my brothers. Tim, Jason, Dick, and Damian." she motioned to each one respectively.

"It's nice to meet all of you." Sabine smiled, "why don't all of you get something from the bakery before you go."

After finishing their small breakfast in the park Mari pulled out a map and a marker.

"So what do you guys want to see?" They listed off places that she marked down. She added a few to the list to fill it out, marked the route and took a picture and sent it to Roy. "Okay so this will work." she glanced at her phone. A quick look on social media showed no one has found Andre yet. She pulled out a case of comms and added, "Also keep your eyes out for Andre."

"Who is that?" Dick asked taking the earpiece.

"Andre's Ice cream cart, the best ice cream in Paris." Marinette answered.

"Then why must we look for him?" Damian added.

"Well he changes locations daily and turns it into a game of tag of sorts."

"Alright, lead the way Pixie." with a smirk she dashed off her brothers close on her heels.

Yes this is the best way to get to see the city, but this was also a test to see how the bats did without their toys.

Getting to Notre Dame was uneventful. Dick kept up a steady conversation with her, just a step behind with Damian, Jason brought up the rear but would constantly toss in quips and questions. Damian and Tim were mostly quiet, unless they were trying to get one of their brothers to stop a particularly embarrassing story.

Getting to the Louve was even more entertaining. Now that Dick had a feel for the Parisian roofs he would do flips and vaults to make her laugh. In the Louve is another story.

They had accidentally ran into some of her classmates, quite literally. She and her brothers were taking goofy 'walk like an Egyptian' group photos on the second floor of the Egyptian exhibit, the mini Ladybug camera was reattaching to her phone charm when Tim began asking her questions about it.

"Well my best friend loves anime, and we kinda sorta binged the entire Dragon Ball series and when we saw the ladybug camera. He said it would be impossible to create and maintain the quality of the image. So I kinda sorta made it out of spite." she mumbled the end.

"Hell if you weren't my sister I would beg Bruce to adopt you," Tim stated. "Do you have the files I would love to look through them. Maybe send them to Babs or Cy!"

"Sure I think I have it on a flash drive." That was when a tall body, walking backwards slammed into her, pushing her into Jason. "oof."

"You okay." Dick was in full mama hen mode fretting over her.

"I wasn't watching where I was going." the figure spoke as he turned around. "I'm sor." the words died on his tongue, Kim.

Max, Alix, Nino, Alya, and oh kwami no Lila, who were now all snickering.

"I'm fine Dick," she smiled to reassure him. However her classmates were shocked.

Lila of course was the one who broke the silence, by beginning to cry. "I'm so sorry about her. I know she hates me but to be so rude to a complete stranger!" her sobs breaking the sentence while her lackeys went to console her, glaring daggers at Marinette.

"Seriously girl," Alya began to scold her. "Your little out burst not only made Lila cry. Your insulting someone who is just trying to be nice."

She and her brothers were now standing awkwardly being scolded by a teenager. After three minutes of trying to figure out what they were being scolded for and why the guys hadn't apparently left.

"What the fuck did she do that your yelling at her for?" Jason finally broke Alya's rant. Now it was the five Parisians and the Italian to stand there confused.

"She called him a dick," Alya sighed exasperated.

"Yes." Dick answered confusing them further.

"Dick."Tim now called.

"What?!"

"Dick!!" Damian, Marinette, Tim, and Jason all called, and immediately began laughing.

"What? Oh, oh," a sheepish smile now on his face. “Names Richard but I go by Dick,” he explained to those who weren’t laughing, smiling at them.

"Tt. this is why I call you Grayson." Damian rolled his eyes. "Besides this one still has not apologized." he jabbed a finger to Kim.

"It's not worth it Damian,” Marinette shook her head. "We should head back to the bakery anyways. Maman has probably finished scolding Bruce." she smirked.

"Damn I wish I was a fly on the wall for that conversation" Jason lamented.

"Well..." she held up the ladybug charm and flipped it over showing an empty space.

"Two!" Tim shouted.

"Anyone who beats me back gets a copy," she smiled.

"Your on." Jason nodded as he vaulted over the safety wall from the second floor. Damian and Dick sprinted in opposite directions.

"Sorry Mars your gonna loose." Tim shouted as the last to leave.

"We'll see," she shot back. "Bye," She turned to her classmates as she grabbed the railing above and flipped up and over to the third floor, running to one of the secret zip lines the miraculous team set up.

"What the fuck" was faintly heard behind her, all but Lila and Max shouted by the sounds of it, as she jumped from the window.

She made up quite a bit of distance and seemed to be on Damian's heel. She had passed Tim and Dick was a few steps behind. Jason was just out of arm reach. So with a burst of speed both she and Damian were shoulder to shoulder with Jason.

The three of them simultaneously practically crashed into the side door of the bakery.

"I won."

"In your dreams Todd."

"I beat both you and Pixie"

"Check your eyes, or do you need the camera installed in your helmet." Jason's gaze hardened at Damian's words.

"How about we call it a three way tie and you both get a copy." Mari interrupted. "We should head up." Laughing Marinette opened the door and went up.

Lunch was rambunctious, but she was coming to expect that with her brothers.

“Too bad we couldn’t find that ice cream guy Mari,” Tim spoke up once everyone had finished eating.

“Oh let’s see if anyone has posted where he’s at today!” She went to check her phone but a message ended up distracting her.

Andres in your favorite spot I’ll meet you there at 7 your time.

"Cool he’ s in my favorite spot in all of Paris which just happens to be the last spot on our list today," she announced, sending off a text, setting her phone down, screen up.

Can't wait Katniss

"Why don’t you all go and Mari can get to know Bruce," Sabine offered.

OK granted it’s a good idea, maybe I should get to know my biological father but am I ready to? Do I want to? Am I yes, yes I want to get to know my biological father, yes I want my family to grow, my brothers are such protective goofballs and I love them already.

"Sounds good," she smiled.

That was when her phone lit up from a message. She went to pick it up, but she was to slow.

Jason was the one who snacked her phone. "Message from Katniss says see ya then Peeta. So who's Katniss Pixie."

"Well..." she started but she began to blush furiously.

"That would be her boyfriend," her Maman decided to add before heading back down to the bakery with Papa.

Dick pounced asking a million and one questions, Bruce physically froze but she could tell his mind was racing because that look was much the same as hers. Jason was pensive, while Tim and Damian just seemed bored or tired.

So that was how she found herself talking about Roy, blushing furiously. While simultaneously avoiding his name and details that would tip any of them off. After about a half hour of her answering questions did Dick start telling her about his fiancée. How they were planning on setting a date for the wedding.

After that the next few hows was spent sharing stories and tidbits of themselves.

However, thanks to Dick a design was swimming in her mind. so she did the only logical thing and ran up to her room. Grabbed three drives, her tablet and pen and ran back down. She tossed the red drive to Tim, and Jason and Damian each a black drive. Plopped down and began stretching out an Italian suit with a nock lapel. A rough coloration of a midnight blue offset by a sapphire. Accents of golden thread, emerald buttons and an Osiria rose in the lapel. She signed the design 'Mira Luck' and handed Dick the tablet.

"So I couldn't help myself," she begun to fidget. "But in my defense you told a designer about a wedding and my brain wouldn't stop screaming at me until this was on something. So what do you think? I know its rough but."

"Holy Shit your Mira Luck as in M, Jagged Stones personal designer. You are M as in the designer for the Lucky Spot!!" Tim screamed lunging to take the tablet from Dick.

"That's me," a blindingly bright smile lit up her features.

"So what do you think?" she asked again.

"It's amazing we were actually hoping to talk to you about Kori’s dress." Dick smiled. "I could call her it's not too late there."

"Perhaps it would be best to discuss it in person when Marinette next goes, that way she can get to know Gotham." Bruce interjected.

"That actually might be sooner than you think," she responded.

"I was actually accepted to be an exchange student for the next semester at Gotham Academy."

"Wait you’re willing we going to Gotham to study! You ’re going to Gotham willingly. Bruce I think your daughter might be a little crazy." Jason surprisingly brought up.

"I might be but but it’s no crazier than Paris and it’s a Akumas. Besides I would love to design your fiancée’s dress and we should head over to Andre’s ice cream before the sunsets that way we can watch the lighting of the Eiffel tower." She got up and called out. "Hey Jason mind passing me my backpack."

"Yeah sure," he went around he couch to grab it and toss it to her but before he did he finally seemed to notice the patches. "Wait are these The Outlaws."

"Yeah Red Hood, Arsenal, Star Fire, and Bizarro." she was smiling.

"Why choose The Outlaws?" Tim brought up.

"Honestly it was because Roy mentioned something about Arsenal and Red Hood and I ended up liking of the logos, so I made them into the backpack," she shrugged. "Besides unless you’re looking at it close enough you can’t tell which is always fun to see if people pay attention to it, let’s go."

At that the six of them walked out of the apartment, away from the bakery towards the Palais de Chaillot.

"So what's so special about Andre's Ice cream?" B asked.

"Personally I think he is a meta. But what he does is he can either see your true reflection or that of the person best suited to you."

"So he sees souls?" Tim added.

"Not quite, more like he sees the main qualities of you or your go." she tapped her chin.

"But he is meta,” Tim tried to figure.

"That's the only explanation I can come up with but I have no idea." Marinette shrugged.

"So how does he do it." Tim was now fully invested in this.

"Well you either ask for love or self and he usually does three to four ice cream flavors and gives a short reason."

They were now at the top of the stairs at the Palais de Chaillot looking out at the Eiffel Tower. They stood there as the last of the light faded from the sky. The city was dark for a moment as the Eiffel Tower lit up and slowly the lamps lit up.

"So that's why this is your favorite spot Minnie." A voice behind her chuckled. She turned around and nearly tackled him.

"Hey speedy." she pecked his cheek.

Not a second later did Jason scream, "Roy!"

"Ready for that movie?” Roy asked her an arm around her shoulders.

"Of course," she smiled. "See you guys around."

"What the fuck are you doing in Paris Roy!?" Jason screamed.

"Um... Date night," he answered. The Waynes were now practically surrounding the couple.

"What?" Apparently it was Dick's turn to yell.

"Seriously. I thought you said the bats and birds were detectives." she spoke just loud enough for them to hear. "It's kinda hard to believe with the big bat having a heart attack over there." Sure enough Bruce was seriously hyperventilating.

"Oh mind giving this to LB?" He handed her a small nondescript red box.

"Sure," Marinette took the box, "Au Revoir."

From there they left and oh kwamii did she wish she could replay that again, oh wait I can.

Next

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[yukidragon]

Our Life Snippet - Clingy

As I mentioned in my asks today where I was gushing about Our Life: Beginnings & Always by @gb-patch, it’s about time for another clip of my fanfic novelization of this lovely game!

It’s been a while since I showed a clip of Step 3, so here is a slice from Errands! Thank you to @gb-patch​ and everyone else who enjoy seeing me gush and write about Cove and Jamie! You all make me so happy I cannot even!

Oh, and since this is Step 3 content, spoiler warning for those who haven’t played this far in the game yet.

...

Liz folded her arms over her chest and let out an amused chuckle. “We couldn’t have picked a more perfect trip. It’s been too long since we’ve had a true family outing.” She then gave a pointed look to her little sister and the baby boyfriend for emphasis.

The three parents laughed approvingly at the familiar joke. Jamie rolled her eyes at their mirth and the teasing note to her older sister’s tone even as she fought to keep from smiling herself. Her favorite next door neighbors had joined the Leimomis on this outing, which was what made it a ‘true family outing’ as Liz put it.

Cove offered Jamie a sympathetic smile when their eyes met. Some things never changed and some jokes never died, especially when it came to teasing them about their relationship. It was something they had both long since accepted. The fact that they had been holding hands since they left the cars behind naturally didn’t help lessen such teasing, but neither of them felt inclined to let go of each other.

Jamie finally allowed herself to smile as she squeezed his hand a little, her smile only widening when Cove returned the gesture. Teasing aside, she was bubbling with anticipation to explore the market and see what sort of hidden gems they might uncover. Sure, that meant wading through a sea of people to find them, but she wasn’t alone, so she didn’t pay them any mind.

The idea of spending a day traversing through such a dense crowd of strangers was not something Cove looked forward to, but at least he wouldn’t have to deal with them by himself. He could tune them out as long as he had Jamie by his side. Seeing her so animated with excitement as she looked around raised his spirits, and when she smiled at him, it was like the world around them no longer mattered anymore.

Cliff turned to the group as he clapped his hands together, the sound catching everyone’s attention. “Well, I’m ready to get started. I’ve got plenty of dishes in mind I could use ingredients for.”

It was easy to see that everyone held the same sentiment. Noelani and Pamla were especially excited as they shared a conspiratorial smile with one another.

“Yes, that’s a very good idea, Cliff,” Noelani said cheerfully as she turned back to the others. “This place is much larger than it seems. It’s difficult to visit each part in a single day.”

Such a challenge did nothing to diminish Cliff’s enthusiasm. “I’m sure we can make a decent dent together at least.”

“Actually…,” Noelani said as she let her gaze wander to the rest of the group. “Since there are so many of us this time, we could take different sides of the market.”

For a second, Jamie swore she saw a hint of mischief in Pamela’s eyes before her mom turned away to look at the stalls.

“Divide and conquer, eh?” Pamela said. “That sounds brilliant.”

The suggestion took the rest of the group by surprise. No one else had considered splitting up to be an option.

Pamela flashed the group a dazzling smile to banish any misgivings there were towards the idea. “Though, it’s a little unfair that there are four Leimomi family members and only two Holdens here, so I’ll go with you boys to even out the odds.”

“That’s fine with me,” Noelani said cheerfully.

Despite the upbeat attitude and smiles Noelani and Pamela showed the group, it was clear that they were the only ones excited for the idea. Liz pursed her lips in a frown, her brow furrowing, but she kept her mouth shut. By contrast, Jamie’s mouth hung open in a small ‘o’ of surprise. Cliff awkwardly scratched the back of his neck and his gaze wandered aimlessly, as he found himself at a loss for where to look or what to say. Neither was a problem his son had.

Cove tightened his hold on Jamie’s hand reflexively, drawing her attention to his frowning face. The grip wasn’t anywhere near painful, but it made his thoughts on them being separated crystal clear even before he spoke up. “I don’t like that idea.”

Noelani was nonplussed by the resistance, smiling at Cove despite his obvious disapproval. “Don’t worry, we’ll be apart for only a few hours, and then we’ll have something to talk about at the end of it.”

Cove wasn’t especially convinced. He had never been comfortable with plans being changed without notice, especially when he wasn’t even consulted about the change. Unfortunately, he could already tell that this was a battle that he wasn’t going to win. He could be stubborn with his own parents or peers, but when it came to the Leimomi matrons, he couldn’t dig in his heels with only the argument that he didn’t want to be separated from Jamie. His shoulders slumped in defeat, and he let out a sigh. Reluctantly, he nodded and released his girlfriend’s hand.

Liz let out a thoughtful hum and shrugged off her confusion. “Alright,” she said, her frown melting away into an easy smile. “I don’t get the point, but I also don’t mind spending the first part of the trip with Jamie and Ma.

Delighted, Noelani clapped her hands together in a brief show of cheer. “Wonderful. Are the teams ready to go?”

Like her sister, Jamie didn’t understand why their moms thought splitting up was a good idea. The entire point of both of their families going to the farmers’ market together was to enjoy each other’s company, wasn’t it? Splitting the group in half felt like splitting the fun in half too.

Actually, it would be even less than that if they expected Jamie and Cove to spend the day apart when they could be together.

If this was going to happen regardless of any of their opinions on the matter, Jamie knew that she had to at least suggest a compromise. “Can I be the one who goes with the Holdens instead?”

Jamie clasped her hands together as she looked between her moms hopefully. They would understand why she wanted to spend the day with Cove, right? He just got back from Nevada, and after he had been gone a long time to boot. It felt almost cruel to spend a day apart from one another when they didn’t have to.

Cove immediately perked up at the suggestion, his defeated frown turning into a hopeful smile of his own.

Unfortunately, the expressions Noelani and Pamela wore were not promising. Noelani pouted at their youngest daughter while Pamela merely shook her head with a grin.

“Sorry,” Pamela said. “No can do this time, kiddo.”

Jamie saw not even a flicker of reluctance between her parents, and the disappointment on Noelani’s face, however played up to keep the mood light, made her feel a twinge of guilt for suggesting she leave her ma’s group. Her shoulders sagged in surrender as a quiet sigh escaped her. “We won’t be split up too long, right?” she asked weakly.

A cheerful smile returned to Noelani’s face as she moved to her youngest’s side and wrapped an arm around Jamie in a little side hug. Her comforting gesture was rewarded with a lopsided smile from her daughter. “Yes, thank you, Jamie.”

With things finally settled, Pamela walked over towards Cove and Cliff, grinning in spite of the confused looks they still sent their way. “Come on, boys, we’re heading out.”

“Sure,” Cliff said.

“Okay,” Cove said with far less enthusiasm than Pamela. This trip had suddenly become a lot more of a chore than it started off as.

His gaze then turned to Jamie, and he offered her a soft smile when her eyes met his. He was drawn towards his girlfriend, stopping just short in front of her. The smile he wore wavered as he hesitated to leave. “Bye,” he said quietly, unable to hide the note of regret from his voice.

Jamie was no more thrilled to separate than Cove was, but she managed to offer him a small smile in return anyway. “Bye.”

Cove took his girlfriend’s hand in his once more and gave it a gentle squeeze, which Jamie returned. Her smile grew just a little stronger at his attempt to reassure her, which raised his spirits as well. He then dipped his face towards her for a parting kiss, his cheeks warming as his eyes drifted closed.

Jamie started to close her eyes as well in anticipation of the kiss, only to notice Cove suddenly jerk to a halt stiffly a few inches away from her.

The reason why became immediately clear as Cove twisted his head around to stare back at Pamela with wide eyes. She had seized the hem of his shirt and physically held him back. She gave another firm tug, urging him upright before letting go.

“No, no, no,” Pamela chided with a wide grin on her face as she wagged a finger at Cove. “Time’s a wastin’, Cove, and I’ve known you long enough to be aware that you’re one to linger. If I don’t stop you now, you’ll only drag your feet on parting ways more.” Her smile then turned mischievous as she shifted her gaze from him to Jamie and back again. “The two of you can snuggle and make out as much as you want later. We have important shopping to do now.”

Jamie felt her face grow hot from being called out so publicly by her mom. Cove outright gasped at Pamela, completely taken aback by what felt like a truly obscene thing for her to say.

Once Cove overcame the initial shock, he forced himself to ignore how fiercely his cheeks burned as he made an unimpressed show of rolling his eyes. “You don’t need to literally pull me away from Jamie. I’m not that clingy.”

Pamela made no effort to hide her snickering as she shook her head wryly.

The reaction wasn’t one Cove expected. He raised his eyebrows at her before he looked over at Noelani. However, the other Mrs. Leimomi refused to look him in the eye as she whistled in a supposedly ‘innocent’ manner.

Cove noticed the look Liz sent his way, particularly the sly smirk she wore that stretched from ear to ear. He whipped his head around towards his dad next. Cliff met his gaze, but could only offer a lopsided smile and an apologetic shrug.

It was only then when it dawned on Cove - everyone really thought he was that needy.

Finally, Cove dared turn to face Jamie, his eyes wide and pleading with the desperate hope that at least she didn’t agree as well.

To his relief, the look Jamie gave him was a sympathetic one. She then leveled a stern gaze to the rest of the group, folding her arms across her chest. “Cove is totally capable of being independent when he wants to be,” she said in a very matter of fact tone.

After all, Cove had recently traveled to Nevada by himself for weeks. Willingly separating from her for that long was the exact opposite of clingy. In fact, that was all the more reason for them to enjoy each other’s company as much as possible now. There was no reason for them to poke fun at her boyfriend for wanting to show her affection. How they expressed their feelings for one another was no one else’s business but theirs.

Unfortunately, it seemed that no one else saw it that way, and her attempt at chastising them for their teasing was met with a few snickers from her family. Unlike them, Jamie was not amused.

Cove, on the other hand, beamed at having his girlfriend’s support. Without thinking, he took a step towards Jamie, feeling drawn to her once more. Also, once more, Pamela snatched the back of his shirt, freezing him in his tracks.

Pamela attempted to suppress the urge to laugh, but a few chuckles escaped her anyway. “Actions speak louder than words.”

Caught newly embarrassed all over again, Cove struggled to come up with something to say in his defense. His mouth twisted and his cheeks reddened as he looked sideways at their families, who were having way too much amusement at his expense. “Yeah, well…” After a few moments of struggling, he finally had to look away with a frustrated huff. “So what?”

That admission had their parents and Liz bursting into laughter, much to Cove’s mortification.

Jamie felt her irritation grow when everyone started laughing at Cove. “Yeah, so what?” she said in a challenging tone. Before anyone could make what she was certain would be another teasing retort, she closed the distance between herself and her boyfriend. She cupped his cheek to turn his face back towards her and stole a kiss from his lips before her mom could stop them a third time.

Cove barely had a moment to register the kiss before it ended. It was so brief that he hadn’t had the chance to really enjoy it, much to his regret. He could only stare wide-eyed at Jamie as she moved back from him, though involuntarily, as this time it was Noelani pulling her back by the shirt.

“I believe you were saying something about being independent?” Noelani said, though her chiding didn’t come across as particularly authoritative since she was chuckling as she said it.

Jamie was unrepentant for her act of defiance, her grin wide and proud, though she did step back at her ma’s prompting, if only to spare her shirt from further punishment. “Cove is, but I didn’t say anything about myself,” she said wryly. That comment along with her little display set off another round of laughter from the group, but it was worth it.

 Pamela shook her head with a wide grin. “I don’t know about that, but I think we both better keep the kids on a short leash if we want a chance of getting any shopping done before nightfall, ‘Lani.” She gave a little tug on Cove’s shirt for emphasis, much to his chagrin.

“I think you’re right,” Noelani giggled as she kept her grip on Jamie’s shirt firm.

Cove didn’t have any further defense for himself or Jamie, not with the way everyone was having way too much fun at their expense. Grimacing, he strode several feet from the group, his face red all the way to his ears. He wanted to move on from this teasing, even if it meant physically moving on and away from her. At least Pamela let him go despite her idle threat to keep him on a leash.

Seeing Cove start to leave washed the taste of victory from Jamie’s mouth, but she just had to accept it. “I’ll see you soon,” she called after him. When he glanced back at her, she smiled softly at him and gave him a little wave.

Despite how Cove still burned with embarrassment, the reminder that he had Jamie’s support helped him relax a bit. He nodded at her ever so slightly as he pulled his mouth into a bent smile.

“See you in a few hours!” Pamela said as she gave her wife and daughters a cheery wave.

“Take care of yourselves,” Cliff said with a nod of his head.

With that, the groups were divided. Pamela picked a direction and set a course for destinations unknown, leading the Holden men who followed not far behind her.

Noelani gave the departing group a grin and waved enthusiastically with her whole arm. By contrast, Liz gave a much more dainty wave of her own.

Jamie continued to wave goodbye as she watched Cove disappear with his dad and her mom into the dense crowd. Because of his height, she could still spot glimpses of his pale green hair for a little while, but all too quickly even that small sign of him was lost from view.

As her arm fell limply to her side, Jamie tried to banish all the negative feelings she had towards this turn of events. Sure, this wasn’t what she wanted, but that didn’t mean the trip couldn’t still be fun. Sure, it sucked that she wasn’t going to explore the market with her boyfriend, and that was the thing she was looking most forward to and now, poof, that wasn’t happening… but she would see him in a few hours. It was silly to feel sad or let down that they wouldn’t all be traveling together.

It wasn’t as though she was actually clingy like she joked.

[tarithenurse]

In the eyes

Fandom: Naruto Pairing: Uchiha Itachi x fem!reader Content: Feels. Angst. Loss. Love. Reference to killing (war and murder). Captivity. Sorrow. Hope. Anger. You name it, it’s there. A/N: I just want to say in my defence that this story isn’t my fault. Blame @maladaptive-ninja-returns​...it’s her birthday present (yes, I’m late)!

In the eyes

The steam is long gone together with your interest in the drink when you drain the cup of tea as the black-haired man gets up to leave. The cape hides what he’s missing – if only it was his leg instead – that way you wouldn’t have to keep the distance to the bare minimum, constantly risking him discovering that you’re following him. It doesn’t help to complain, though: he’s alive and mobile...and you have to watch your every move.

Volunteering for the assignment has probably been one of the more masochistic choices you’ve made, but you just couldn’t let the last Uchiha go yet.

For years, watching the kid grow older had kept a wound alive that no one knew about. It festered, saturating you with a sickening, rotten, sadness that never washed off but wasn’t detected by your peers. You should have let it heal. Should have moved on. But there had always been something keeping you from accepting what everyone else had decided must be true.

You weren’t the only one dealing with grief, of course. The life of a Leaf ninja was to say goodbye too soon and then to live with the numbing ache, renewed each time memories stirred.

Before the fourth war, the newfangled gossip of the dead returning was treated as ghost stories by most people until the climax of it all, when too many stood face to face with loved ones. Lost ones. And you were too weak to prevent the hope from being rekindled, so once peace was a reality and all the shinobis prepared to celebrate in the chaotic haze of the aftermath, you made a decision.

That is why, three seconds after the door closes behind Uchiha Sasuke, you get up...

...and sit right down again to avoid pressing against the sharp blade of the person suddenly appearing beside you.

The newcomer’s face is hidden partially under the wide-rimmed hat and the rest behind a dark and tattered cloak. Glancing down, a hand with purple-painted nails slips the kunai into the darkness of the cloak, leaving you with the knowledge that it’s there.

There’s no doubt in your mind that this is a shinobi. Where did you come from? Admittedly, there are others frequenting the little tea house because it’s a popular stop at a major crossroads...even if it mainly services those without national affiliations. None of the rest of the clientele reacts to the scene unfolding discreetly and you have no wish to catch their attention before you know what and who you’re dealing with.

“What do you want?”

It takes a second before you realize the question isn’t asked by you. Another one to recover from the smooth dusk that is the stranger’s voice. A voice with a hint of familiarity in the timbre which you decide must be your mind playing games.

“Nothing. I’m no enemy of yours,” you try to placate them, silently counting the seconds worth of head start separating you from Sasuke, “and I hold nothing of value...you should let me go.”

The tickle of a laugh surprises you. “If I’d wanted your possessions, they’d already be mine. I want answers, Konoha-girl.”

The headband you carry is hidden under your clothes, well out of sight from any prying eyes. Finally giving up on stalking your initial target, you turn your undivided attention to the person who has seated them-self before you.

The little skin you can see is pale, and a few black strands have escaped the slack ponytail and fallen in front of the face where only chin and jawline is visible. As if knowing your annoyance, the head is tipped slightly, allowing you to glimpse soft, gently smiling lips. Kissable. The thought jars you.

“I recommend you give up that wish.” No one should be able to hear the nervousness in your voice...but the stranger smirks. “My business is my own.”

“Not when it involves him,” they says, inclining the hat towards the door where Uchiha left.

You’re out to get him? You almost feel sorry for this fool who clearly doesn’t have a clue about the one-armed ninja’s identity.

“Don’t be mistaken,” the person smiles as if reading your thoughts, “I know who he is and what he’s capable of, after all...he’s my brother.”

Calmly meeting your gaze, the eyes meeting you flash red.

...

“Don’t look an Uchiha in the eyes”. It was the warning that was whispered into your ears as soon as you were big enough to run errands on your own. Naturally, you had to do it, and what met you was not as demonic as the warning stories had made you think – rather, they were kind, and wiser than the smooth face hinted at – although you never looked another Uchiha in the eyes just to be on the safe side.

It was impossible to discern the colour. Some days, they seemed leaden as if the rain clouds were gathered inside the boy too. A few times, in the morning when he watched where his fists struck the wood, the sparks from the cozy fire of the evening before still lingered in the warmest of black. What you loved the most, though, was when the gaze was locked onto infinity and they were soft like liquid.

...

Everything is different: the stuffy tea room with its noisy patrons has been replaced by somewhere deserted that seems to be carved out of grey stone.

How did I get here? Careful to move as little as possible, you take in the new surroundings only to find the place empty and with only one way in and out. A dull cold has already seeped into your feet as you stand there, lost as your bearings have nothing to latch on to – the only light is a torch in a wall sconce to your left.

Feet. They are bare, and a quick pat-down reveals that all of your weapons, your belt, and your headband have been stripped from you too. The sensation is uncanny, akin to nakedness. The logic behind it is obvious as it reduces the chances of a successful escape even if you were to make it out and establish a route.

On the other hand: you’re unharmed and unbound.

Turning, you have no doubt that the wooden door is locked but of course you go over to try, heart frozen near your throat when you push against it with your shoulder. Surprisingly, it does open and the screaming hinges sets the tiniest hairs on your body on end.

“Not wasting any time, Konoha-girl.”

You recognize the voice and the decorated nails on the hand that appears to pull open the door completely, and not just from the rest stop but from years of aching recollections that have been warped by watching Sasuke grow up with this man’s shadow lingering over his life. Over your life.

No. There’s no way. He died. Now your heart jackhammers a frenzied rhythm.

It’s a fool’s hope that powers the jab towards his neck. An idiot’s dream urging you to sprint past him. At least I tried, a bitter thought comments the moment both attempts are thwarted as a rib-crushing kick sends your tumbling backwards and you land sprawled in the middle of the room.

The ceiling is still spinning, it seems, when you sense the man’s presence loom over you. The fingers are cool (and surprisingly gentle) as the curl around the back of your skull, fingers digging into your hair to grant a tight grip to pull you closer by. Very close. A hand’s length separates the tips of your noses and you want to be oblivious to the way his mouth curves softly.

“You’re not leaving,” he whispers, “until I say so.”

Feeling and strength are beginning to return to your arms, including a sharp ache in your chest that grows with every shallow breath which you try to ignore. Should have restrained me, fool...and the thought dies there as everything shifts and the ground swallows your limbs.

“N-no...how...? No!”

He watches your struggles lazily before releasing his grip and sitting down next to you on the hard floor. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

But you did. Wait...no! You haven’t...it wasn’t you...it can’t have been...

“You lie about your identity,” you scoff, regretting the outburst immediately as pain stabs coldly into your side, “so excuse me for not trusting you on this either.” There is a little smile there on his lips, full of sadness and regret that makes your insides cringe momentarily until you have the breath to explain to him (or yourself) why it can’t be true: “Uchiha Itachi has been killed!”

“Yes...and then I was brought back.” He’s impossibly calm as though he’s simply discussing the weather. “Twice.”

Double reanimated? As if! The war had been a horror to live through and would have been without people facing their deceased comrades and family members on the battlefield. However, once destroyed or sealed, none of the animated dead had walked again and all of them had been dealt with properly in the end.

Looking at the ninja, none of the signs of reanimation are prominent. On the other hand...even if they had been, you might not even notice it now that you meet the man’s gaze and the liquid infinity there.

“I could show you...but I’m afraid your mind can’t take the strain in your current state,” the so-called Itachi explains.

Mind, your aching heart still reels from fear of being broken once more, this is all in my mind.

Zoning out everything else, you focus on the flow of chakra within. Calming it, soothing it, until abruptly forcing the flow to revert. It feels as if your very soul drops for a second but the moment it returns to its place, the world is no longer made up of lies and imaginary sensations...and you’re still lying on the ground in a room made of stone, your ribs feeling as if they’re speared by frost. The only improvement is that at least your limbs are free.

And Itachi? Yes, you have to call him that because deep within you can’t deny it any longer.

The official reports hadn’t been released by the time you left Konoha and you’re not high enough up in the ranks as a shinobi to get the juicy information unless it’s necessary for a mission – and since your missions tend to be B or simpler A rank...well, I guess my current mission’s a bust but this is an important discovery!

A silky chuckle refocuses your attention. “Very good...I suppose I must strengthen my genjutsu against you.”

He’s so close, you could touch him. Shifting to lean against the wall, he rests his arms casually on the knees and begins to pick at the chapping nail polish.

“No need to,” you bite back a groan as you roll over to sit up, “I take it that’s how you got me here?” Pretty eyes are watching your every move as he nods in agreement. “Hm. It’ll probably be useless to ask where we are, so...why? Why show yourself now?”

Sitting cross legged, you find the pain lessens if you pull your clothes and arms tightly around your torso, restricting the depth of your breathing. Broken or bent ribs? Not that it really matters. First of all, he would be able to beat you in a fight anyways; secondly, even if you got out of here you wouldn’t know where “here” is; and third (but not least), you don’t really want to run from him.

Rather than answer, Itachi stands up and holds out his left hand for you. Puzzled, you take it. Soft fingers curl around yours and he pulls you to your feet, studying your movements and the twisting facial expressions.

He doesn’t let go.

Not when he guides you out the door and into a hallway shaped of the same kind of stone as the room was made of. Carved from.

Not when he slows down at the sound of the squeaky breathing the pace forces from you.

There doesn’t seem to be many rooms along the winding path. Here and there a door bars the way or you catch a glimpse of a dead-end that looks as though the excavation was abandoned or even disrupted by cave-ins.

You do your best to memorize the path, but frankly, your mind is getting fuzzy from pain and exhaustion. You have no sense of time, just hunger and tiredness weighing you down to indicate the loss of many hours.

“Just a bit longer, [Y/N],” Itachi soothes.

When did I tell him my name? You want to ask or at least protest, but it would be a choice between talking or getting to wherever he’s leading you...and you doubt he’ll let you pause.

A few dozen steps later and a short flight of stairs up, he ushers you through a door into a room that looks like a mix between a kitchen and work station. A fire is the only light and heat source (the smoke venting up through a chimney too narrow to be an escape route), casting a warm glow over the solid wooden table and chairs. Everything else is hewn from whatever mountain you’re inside.

“Sit,” your captor finally releases the grip and points at a chair near the fire and you obediently do as you’re told.

There are shelves and niches almost hidden in the dancing shadows at first holding with boxes, bundles, and various utensils. He knows where everything is, grabbing a few items before returning and laying it out in the light. Bandages. His movements are fluid and elegant, just like you remembered.

He motions towards your upper body, then turns to tend to the fire. “Strip.”

“That’s really not -”

“Some of your ribs are broken. Restraining them will minimize the pain.”

He’s right. Of course he is.

With clipped movements, you pull off the layers until you hesitate at the poor excuse of a bra. Despite the now roaring fire, the cold from the stone still seeps into your body and raises waves of goosebumps and tightens your nipples. It would be easier to apply the bandages correctly without the last bit of clothing in the way, but right now it feels like the only shield left at your disposal as Itachi turns back to you.

“We’ll work around that,” the man offers softly.

He works quietly at first. Hands winding the linen bandages around you adeptly, pausing each time the ministration intensifies the pain and causes the discomfort to escape as stubborn hisses. The purple nail polish is mesmerizing – simultaneously a contrast to the horrific stories of a killer and perfectly fitting the pretty, nearly feminine, traits you see. Especially the eyes. Sure, they’re filled with a bottomless sadness that you don’t feel comfortable acknowledging, but they’re beautiful. Haunting.

“You’re staring,” he hums without looking up.

Shit. “No. I just -...let’s say you’re who you claim to be,” you try to recover, “why’re you back?”

“To be his watcher.”

“Says who?”

This time, he stops and looks you dead in the eyes. “Otsutsuki Hagoromo, the Sage of Six Paths.” There are very few proper comebacks to that, so your captor continues without giving you a chance to think of something, “Otsutsuki told me about the bonds of families and that it can transcend blood. He knows hatred can cause – and has caused – too much harm...but something rekindled his hope that it can be overcome.“

I don’t have an eye on Uchiha constantly, but... “Does Sasuke know?” Returning to his work, Itachi avoids your gaze. “He doesn’t...”

“He’s finally found peace and is on the right path...I can’t risk undoing it.”

Bullshit! “Or you’re a coward who doesn’t have the guts to fa-” the rest is cut off as soft fingers tighten around your throat.

Blood-red eyes pierce your mind, numbing you for an eternity or a millisecond.

...

They were a means to reach the goal but their words still hurt as you followed meekly in their footsteps. Snobbery. Disdain. Considering how proud your two team members clearly felt, they had very little to show for their reputation as Uchihas and frankly, it was your skills rather than theirs that ensured successful missions and still, you never once looked them in their face. Instead, you kept an eye out for two other of the clan.

Where one was, so would the other be. Thick as thieves, the boys had found a companionship that complemented their differences in the same manner as the sun and the moon. But as opposed to your teammates who swooned at the brightness of the sun, you were drawn to the night and the calmness it brought whenever that boy was near – each time he met your eyes, time became meaningless.

...

The two of you sit in silence as the steam from the soup caresses your face. Your mind is blank, slowly starting to pick up on the absence of stone walls – wood has replaced the cold surfaces, making it almost unbearably warm with the bandages underneath your layers of clothes – and a plethora of questions begin to press against your conscious only to be held back as most of your thoughts get derailed whenever you look at the man before you.

Without the hat and cloak to conceal him, it’s impossible to ignore all the details you’ve nurtured in your memory for ages, such as the slight pull of his lips as he thinks or the elegance of his movements now that he gets up and refills his bowl from the pot hanging over the fire.

“Why are you following Sasuke?”

You should be diplomatic. “I could ask you the same.” You’re not.

“I already told you,” Itachi shrugs.

“Well I...I don’t believe you.”

But you do. There’s no denying anymore that this man is who he claims to be and so, why would he lie about his purpose? The sad smile. The quiet mannerisms. The idea that Itachi would somehow transcend death to watch over his little brother? That’s a mysterious intricacy that fits with your memories of him from before that night.

“You do...but something else is bothering you.” It’s a statement, not a question. “Am I not what you expected?”

No, you’re not. However, he’s what you remember with a layer of sorrow added on top. He doesn’t get to be sad. The little spark of anger is what you need. You nurse it, feed it until it flares up hot and bright and consumes your regrets and self-pity.

“Expected? I don’t know what I expected from someone like you!” Your voice is rising, shaking with years of frustration. “Clan killer. Murderer. I never told anyone but I was in love with an Uchiha! That night, I’d gone to bed, finally sure that I was gonna tell him but when I woke up...” Something inside you had broken that day and it still hurts now. “They told me how you’d left Sasuke alive...but the boy I loved was gone and no one knew I was mourning. Each time I saw him -” you can’t hold back a strangled sound and you realize, you’re crying -”I saw the ghost of...” The bowl of floating vegetables looks blurry until you blink angrily. “Ugh! But what does a teenager know of love, right? They’ll grow up. Get over it. Except I knew you were out there still and that you had all the answers. Why? The Itachi I remember wasn’t a mindless monster! I was told a story, but it doesn’t make any sense. If all the monster wanted was power then why spare Sasuke? Why did everyone else have to die?”

The inhalations are shallow and rapid, making you dizzy as you cling to the table and the spoon. It burns in your lungs and cheeks.

“I am sorry for the pain, I’ve caused you.”

Your gaze snaps to his face and you know he’s speaking the truth but it doesn’t matter right now.

“Sorry? Sorry?! You don’t get to be sorry! I missed y-...the boy, I loved was gone and it took ages before I could let go and stop mourning, finally accepting the truth had died with you and now...now you’re here? And it’s all back and I don’t understand! How could you?” Itachi doesn’t flinch as you launch the bowl towards him – he doesn’t have to because your aim is off and it clatters to the floor in a shower of shards and wasted food after hitting the wall behind him. “How? The boy I loved was not a monster! He wouldn’t do what they s-”

The echoes of your wheezing shouts ring through the room after the abrupt stop. Holding your breath, you wait for the ground to swallow you whole or for the man at the other end of the table to react and the fear is colder than the burning in your chest.

“Things aren’t always what they seem,” Itachi eventually whispers, “they were just people who had been wronged and misguided until their arrogance made them blind.”

What? That’s not exactly what you had expected. Without explaining further, your captor gets up, handing you his bowl of food before beginning to clean the mess you’ve made.

“Don’t...I’ll get tha-” you begin.

He only has to look at you.

...

The dew had soaked your toes, cooling and soothing them after each kick that you landed on the wood stump. Pine. The new splinters refreshed the scent as they fell to the ground and you knew that birds would rummage through them in the hope of finding a morning snack once the training grounds were free of people again – they were already gathering at the edge of the clearing except for where Itachi stood.

The realization made you stop mid-kick, gaze locked with his and heart fluttering in your chest. How long had he stood there?

“They’re wrong.” You could barely believe he was talking to you. “Your teammates...don’t listen to what they say.”

Before you could ask what he meant, Itachi was gone and maybe it had all been your imagination running free.

...

Sitting up abruptly, it takes a few seconds for your eyes to get used to the low light of the dying embers. Where am I?

Salt and drying seaweed is heavy in the air, somehow worming its way into what appears to be yet another room of stone. No...it’s a cave. You’re sitting on a bedroll splayed out onto the sand filling the place and you have no memory of arriving.

The dark form on the other side of the fire pit makes no move as you slip a hand underneath your shirt to confirm what you already know: the bandages are gone and there’s only a muted tenderness as you prod at the ribs. How long has it been?

“You’re safe,” Itachi’s gentle voice assures, and you feel your pulse slow despite the ominous situation, “go back to sleep.”

Yes. Sleep...hang on! Shaking your head, you fight the urge to succumb to the fuzziness that weighs your thoughts. “Why’re you doing this?” you mumble.

It doesn’t make sense why the man wouldn’t simply get the answers he want and then dispose of you or at the very least leave you locked up somewhere while he keeps following Sasuke from the shadows. Instead, your captor has put an effort into keeping you comfortable. Feeding you.

“I remember you.” His eyes reflect the red coals as they burn into your soul all over again. “Memories don’t do your justice, though.”

...

There is no world beyond the walls of the garden but a red sheet of sky dotted with storm clouds. The sliding doors have been pushed aside, opening the hallway to the view, and you know the wood beneath your bare feet should be silky from decades of use. You can’t feel it. There are no scents either, no breeze to toy with the soft fabric of your yukata, nor insects clicking from the rhododendron.

“This isn’t real.”

“No,” Itachi confirms from behind you, “but here I can create what you need. Who you need.”

Turning at last, there’s no reason to shy away from meeting his gaze even if it matches the fake sky. He looks real – as opposed to the familiarity of the home of your childhood that surrounds the two of you – and the ghost of a smile kindly tries to hide the sadness.

“...need. For what?”

The black strands falling into his face are strangely dull in the nightmarish light. “Closure.”

“That’s not possible.”

Wanting to leave, to run away and avoid what Itachi intends, you find yourself rooted in place by an invisible force. Even turning your face away is impossible and you pray that he doesn’t understand the well of emotions he must be able to see in your eyes.

“This is a chance for you to say goodbye to the one I killed. The one you...love,” he pauses to scrutinize your expression and you try to remain neutral, “because you do. You still love him.”

“You have no right...” swallowing hard, you fight to keep the words back, “no right t-to claim to know what I need!” Finally, you manage to close your eyes but they snap open again at the touch of his fingertips on your forehead. “This isn’t something you get to fix like -”

...

The world has shifted again and you’re back in the ocean side cave. You can feel how uneven the sand is under your knees and shins even with the bedroll to soften the press and some some the grains have found their way in between your toes...but none of that matters because Itachi is still right before you, his fingers gently resting on your brow.

A pop-and-crackle from the fire pit is the only sound other than your shallow breathing. You know, he knows. Eyes widened in nigh-comedic understanding, it’s as if he sees you for the first time.

“I’m sorry, [Y/N].”

You barely manage to whisper, “for what?”

His fingertips send shivers along your spine as they trace a path, allowing him to cradle the back of your neck in his palm.

“Everything” Itachi’s lips brush your cheek, “for breaking your heart in so many ways and for making you think your love was unrequited.”

[asktheghosthost]

Homecoming

Jai belongs to @catinabag, and is used with their permission. This was a little drabble gift that kept growing until I finally decided to just finish and post it. It’s a little lengthy, hence the Read More. Enjoy!

Fog was rolling in thick that night, but it wasn't doing much to dissuade the man lumbering along the edge of the road. Occasionally, he'd glance up at a damp street sign, grunt in acknowledgement of it, and keep going. He really wasn't relying on them, anyway. It was an... instinct, a feeling that pulled him to where he needed to be. And the closer he was getting, the stronger the pull became.

"Come to the Square," a voice whispered, simultaneously at his ear and in his brain. "Come to the Square, and you'll be home..."

Home... He hadn't seen home-- hadn't had a home-- in... God, how many decades now? Time had lost all meaning to him.

He tugged his pinstripe jacket closer around him. Fuck it was cold. Wasn't Louisiana supposed to be all muggy and swampy and hot? How many more miles of this did he have to deal with? Was it even worth it? What the hell was he even doing, really--

The honk of a car horn made him turn away from his thoughts. He glared at the car, a dull yellow taxi, as it slowed to a crawl next him. The window rolled down, and a scruffy faced driver leaned over the passenger seat and called out, "Y'all need a ride?"

Standing there, arms stiffly around him, the man hesitated to say anything. "Uh..."

The driver grinned. "Tell you what, brah, if you goin' the same way I am, and it's under five miles, no charge. Lagniappe. Deal?"

The man nodded, and quickly got into the car. "Thanks," he grunted. "'Preciate it."

"No problem, no problem." Pulling away from the road's edge, the driver continued forward. "Y'all  ain't from around these parts, are you? What's your name, ami?"

"No," he said, gruffly, shaking his head. "It's Jai. Ghast." He hadn't said his real last name in years. It was almost like saying a foreign word, like his tongue didn't know how to curl around it properly.

The driver let out a short, relieved laugh. "For a moment there, I thought you was gonna say 'Gracey.' Ah, there's a family no one wants any part of. 'Cause of them, most drivers won't make rounds 'round here."

Jai furrowed his brow in confusion. "They a crime syndicate, or something?"

"Non, ami. They're all dead." His grin glinted in the rearview mirror. "Now where you heading to, Monsieur Ghast?"

Go to the Square...

"Um, the Square?" Jai cringed inwardly.

Now it was the driver's turn to look confused. "New Orleans Square?"

Jai pursed his lips and his gray eyes darted from side to side. He wagered, "Yes?"

The driver's grin widened. "You in luck, ami! That's where I be headed to." The cab took off with such force, Jai was pressed back into the seat. "Ol' Gabe, he get you there tout suite!"

Jai's knuckles faded to a pale beige as he gripped the door handle. The vehicle-- and his stomach-- lurched. And then there was a strange sensation under him, or rather, a lack of sensation. It was subtle at first, hard to pin point, and then he realized what it was: there wasn't any road under them. There should have been the familiar pings of grit and gravel under the tires. A steady whoosh from below his feet. There was an eerie whistling, however, and he forced his head to turn to look out the window.

They weren't connected to the road. They weren't connected to anything. Tiny points of lights--streetlights-- barely shown through the mist dozens of feet beneath them.

"The hell! What're you doing, you crazy Cajun?!"

"Why, I'm gettin' you to your destination, of course!" Gabe cackled. Moonlight flashed through him, betraying he was transparent.

Jai let out a heavy sigh and slumped back against the seat. How had he not figured it out? "This some kind of show you put on for tourists?"

"Gotta get my kicks somehow, ami." He gave a good-natured shrug. "Besides, one of us had to let on we was dead."

Jai was quiet for a few seconds. "Fair."

The next few minutes were thankfully uneventful, and the cab touched down on centuries old cobblestone.

Jai didn't open the door right away, instead rolling down the fogged window.

Up ahead loomed a massive, white house, a plantation-style mansion.  It shone like a bleached tooth, a beacon in the misty night.  The imposing black, wrought iron gate ahead of it was almost easy to miss in comparison.  Even easier to miss were the strange, misshapen large stones scattered across the front yard of the property.

"This is the Square?"

"New Orleans Square is the town, but this is the place you need to be. Gracey Manor." Gabe's grin shifted into a gentler smile.  "Safe travels, ami. And when you see old Beauregard, you tell him Gabe Guidry says hi."

"Beauregard?"

But Gabe was gone. The cab was gone.  Jai was suddenly standing outside that menacing gate. With a long, high creak, it slowly opened, gesturing he should enter.

Jai licked his lips and ran a hand back through his shaggy black hair. Graceys. The dead people.

He straightened his jacket and stepped forward, a dirt path becoming more and more visible under his black leather shoes.

Moving forward, he got a better look at the property. A cement bird bath was to his left. A small pool was in it, but was too dark to see through. Jai had a feeling he'd regret sticking his hand in.

Near the bird bath was a statue of a smug, fluffy Persian cat.  This in turn was flanked by multiple tiny bird statues. Nearby were other stone animals--a duck, a snake, a few different dogs, a monkey...

Wait...

The spacing between the animals led him to look at tiny placards under each, which all listed names and dates.  This was a pet cemetery!

Cute, he thought. But then it dawned on him what those larger stones were.  Who has a house flanked by a graveyard?

Beauregard…

With a new sense of urgency, he bounded up the front steps and barely stopped before gripping the enormous bronze door knocker and slamming it down three times. "Open up." His throat was suddenly tight. Angry tears welled in his eyes. "Open up, you creepy bastard!"

As if responding to his impatience, the door was pulled open with such force, Jai was flung inside. Skidding, he caught himself before he could fall.

A low voice greeted him in the darkness of the foyer. “Welcome, wayward soul.” An unseen hand helped him straighten up.

That voice… Jai knew it. It’d just been so long since he’d heard it. That tightness returned to his throat.

“Beauregard?”

A man appeared in front of him, one who was simultaneously familiar and a stranger. Thin, lanky, like him, with long, shaggy hair, only shock white instead of black. Taller than Jai by a few inches, but he always had been. They stared at one another, jaws agape, eyes wide.

Jai took a couple of unsure steps forward, but the other ran to him, and then flung his arms around him and hugged him so tightly Jai thought he’d never break free.

“My baby brother!” He pulled away, only to hold Jai’s shoulders and look him over. “It’s been so long.” His voice cracked. “You… You look… so grown up.” A tiny sob-chuckle escaped him, but he was grinning.

Jai took a moment to take in some of the new details of his sibling—the pale, blind right eye, and the scarring over it that ran from brow to cheek; the bruising left behind on his thin throat, and its answer, a thick noose that hung loosely under it like some kind of macabre tie. His green coat was threadbare at the shoulders and elbows, and his purple waistcoat was slightly too long. The pinstripe slacks were all right, but his spats were misaligned.

“You look like shit.”

Beauregard laughed and wiped his eyes. “That’s fair.”

“Sorry,” Jai said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I guess those last few years weren’t so kind to you, huh?”

Beauregard shrugged a shoulder, not denying it, but not providing details, either. “It’s been a long time since then.”

“And you’ve just been here, in this big ol’ house, for…?”

Another shrug. “I’m honestly not sure how long now. I don’t keep track of time anymore. I know I died January twenty-ninth of 1901, at exactly 10:35 p.m. Beyond that…” He pulled out a pocket watch and flashed the face of it at Jai. It had been stopped since his time of death. “Time has lost all meaning for me.”

“So, you’ve been here…”

“Yes.”

“All this time?”

“Yes.”

“You died here?”

“Yes…” Beau was trying not to show the mild annoyance growing at the questions. “What are you getting at?”

Jai suddenly pointed at him accusingly. “You’ve been here, living here, for ages, and you ain’t never tried to contact me even once? Even once!”

Taken aback, Beau sputtered, “Well, you—Who do you think sent out the message for you, hmm? Who do you think led you here?”

“But that was just now! You’ve had literal decades! Decades! Decades that I’ve spent away from the very last little bit of family I had left!” There were tears in his eyes. “If Eulie were here…”

“Eulie is here. This was her house.” Beau looked over his shoulder at the grand staircase leading to the bedrooms above. “I’m surprised she hasn’t come down to investigate the ruckus yet. Her or Dorian…”

Jai took a tiny pause for confusion. “Is that her husband?”

“No, her son.”

“I have a nephew?” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “And you all were livin’ in a mansion! And not one of you saw fit to find me?!” Turning on his heel, he headed back to the door.

“Now stop!” Beau bellowed. A chair cut Jai off, knocking him down into it, and it scooted back to Beau. “You disappeared!” Pointing at Jai, Beau floated above the floor. “You were the one who forsake the family! You went off to who-knows-where, while Eulalie and I were dealing with our parents’ funeral expenses, and bank possessing the house, and—” He let out a frustrated groan. Slipping back down to the floor, he slowly exhaled, and started again, in a much calmer tone. “It was like you had fallen off the face of the planet. And… And I knew you were grieving in your own way. By the time we wound up here… H-How was I supposed to find you, Jai?” Beau put a hand on his shoulder, gazing into his eyes, imploring. “When you clearly didn’t want to be found?”

Turning his head aside, Jai looked away. It was true. He hadn’t wanted to be found, not at first. But when he’d found himself deep in trouble, that’s when he’d started thinking about his family and what he’d left behind. Then… Then it was too late. Far too late. You couldn’t scream for your big brother with a mouth full of dirty handkerchief, and lungs full of river water.

Jai blinked, sending tears cascading down his cheeks. “I—I missed you, Beau. I needed you. And—And I couldn’t find you. And I couldn’t face you. Not after what I’d done. I’ve… I’ve done horrible things, Beau. I…”

“Shh,” Beau shushed him. “Do you think I’m proud of this?” He gestured to the noose. “We’ve all done regrettable things, Jai.” Gripping the arms of the chair, he leaned down. “The important thing is we’re back together, eh?” He grinned his cock-eyed grin that always seemed just a little too wide. “The Ghast boys wreaking havoc from beyond the grave!”

Jai allowed himself a small smile. “You mean it? Back together like old times?”

Beau yanked him up, and put an arm around him as he led him further into the mansion. “Not exactly. Far fewer things to worry about now. I’ll give you the tour, and you can tell me everything you’ve been up to.”

“Eh…” Jai rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s a tall order.”

“Hm, we have all eternity little brother.” Beau squeezed him to his side.

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch36: I Bid You Farewell And Good Luck, Morons. Part 1- It’s Like A Pirate Had A Baby With An Angel.

Intro: Thor wakes up on a strange ship, surrounded by even stranger people, a talking tree and a rabbit. Meanwhile, back on Earth, the fight to save Vision is won and the group make their way back to the compound to understand what exactly it is that they’re facing. 

Warnings: Bad Language words.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: So I HAD to write Thor and Tony’s POV over the IW chapters too, because, frankly, they had some of THE best scenes in Infinity War, and I love that freaking Norse God Himbo and chaotic Stark chemistry so bad! I know this is Katie and Steve’s fic, but Steve had so little screen time in this film all things considered…we were so robbed!!! Once again, I can’t thank @angrybirdcr​ enough for her edits, they’re awesome!

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 35

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Thor wasn’t dead. But he felt like it. Every inch of his body ached and when he was jerked back to consciousness for a moment, just one split moment, he thought he saw Little Stark. Only it wasn’t her. The woman had dark hair, yes, but as he focussed he realised she looked nothing like the woman he loved dearly as a sister. This wench had huge eyes and antenna dangling from her forehead. And, whilst he knew it had been a while since he had seen his friend, she wouldn’t have changed that much.

Finding his feet he looked around, chest heaving, at the band of people stood in front of him; a woman with green skin and red hair, a man with grey/blue skin covered in red designs, a tree creature- a Flora Colossus unless he was mistaken- which was off to the side draped over a chair, some kind of furry, animal thing- a rabbit maybe- and finally a man who appeared to be a normal, human being. That was until he opened his mouth and Thor realised he was probably the most stupid human being he had ever encountered.

His rescuers had offered him soup, and then when he had explained about Thanos, the green skinned lady called Gamora had told Thor what the Titan wanted the stones for.  Which she knew, because she his daughter.

Thanos had a daughter. Interesting.

“Families can be tough,” Thor spoke wisely, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Before my father died, he told me that I had a half-sister that he imprisoned in Hell. Then she returned home, stabbed me in the eye so, I had to kill her.” He shrugged. “That’s life though isn’t it I guess? Round and round, but I feel your pain.”

The human, Peter Quill, pushed his way between Gamora and Thor, and looked at her “I feel your pain, as well, because, I mean it’s not a competition, but I’ve been through a lot. My father killed my mother, and then I had to kill my father. And that was hard. Probably even harder than having to kill a sister. Plus, I, came out with both of my eyes.”

Thor wasn’t paying attention. The man was clearly a moron, and he’d just noticed he had bent the spoon in the bowl of soup and was having a flashback to the time he had tried to bend the Captain’s shield. Little Stark had laughed so much at how annoyed he had gotten when he failed that she had cried. And then, to make it worse, a few days later the Captain had managed to move Mjolnir. Just a fraction, but it moved. No one had seen it, bar Little Stark of course, but there was something there, Thor was sure. Steve Rogers was a man worthy of a lot of things, but his hammer was complicated. You have to prove your worth. That had been explained to him by his Father the day he had given it to him. Of course, he hadn’t realised then that Eitri had actually made it for Hela first.

Eitri… Oh, yes!

“I need a hammer, not a spoon.” Thor mumbled, as the idea took hold and he looked at the pod at the back of the ship. “How do I open this thing?” He began pressing random buttons on the screen next to the door. “Is there some sort of a four-digit code? Maybe a birth date or something?”

"What are you doing?” the rabbit animal, Rocket asked.

“Taking your pod.” Thor replied nonchalantly.

And then there was an argument in which the moron Quill tried to imitate Thor’s deeper voice telling him he could not take the pod, but Thor was going to take the pod anyway because he was the God of Thunder after all, and then the lady Gamora cut them off quite rightly directing the focus back to Thanos by stating they needed to find out where he was going next.

But Thor had already thought of that. “Knowhere,” he answered as he brushed past Quill and over to the refrigerator he had seen Gamora get his soup from.

“He must be going somewhere.” Mantis argued innocently.

“No,” Quill shook his head and Thor noted his stupid voice was back to normal. “Knowhere? It’s a place. We’ve been there. It sucks. Excuse me, that’s our food.” He jabbed,  suddenly noticing what Thor was doing.

“Not anymore.” Thor shrugged, stuffing it into a backpack he found.

“Thor!” Gamora cut across the pair of them again. “Why would he go to Knowhere?”

“Because for years, the Reality Stone has been safely stored there with a man called the Collector.” Thor stated.

“If it’s with the Collector, then it’s not safe.” Quill snorted. “Only an idiot would give that man a stone.”

“Or a genius.” Thor shrugged.

“How do you know he’s not going for one of the other stones?” Gamora asked.

“There’s six stones out there.” Thor began to explain, “Thanos already has the Power Stone because he stole it, last week, when he decimated Xandar.”

He didn’t missed the shocked and horrified look the group shared with one another.

“He stole the Space Stone from me, when he destroyed my ship and slaughtered half my people. The Time and Mind Stones, are safe on Earth. They’re with the Avengers.”

“The Avengers?” Quill asked.

“They’re Earth’s Mightiest Heroes.”

“Like Kevin Bacon?” Mantis called out.

“Errr he may be on the team now, I don’t know.” Thor shrugged, having no idea who the man named after a breakfast meat was. “I haven’t been there in a while. And as for the Soul Stone, well no one’s ever seen that. No one even knows where it is. Therefore, Thanos can’t get it. Therefore, he’s going to Knowhere. Hence, he’ll be getting the Reality Stone. You’re welcome.”

“Then we have to go to Knowhere, now.” Gamora stated, looking around.

“Wrong. Where we have to go is Nidavellir.” Thor picked up the backpack.

“That’s a made up word.” Drax, the blue man countered.

“All words are made up.” Thor smiled, slinging the backpack onto his back.

“Nidavellir is real?” The animal called Rocket’s eyes grew wide and he jumped up onto the table and looked at Thor. “Seriously? I mean, that place is a legend. They make the most powerful, horrific weapons to ever torment the Universe. I would very much like to go there, please.”

“The rabbit is correct.” Thor grinned at Rocket’s excitement. “And clearly the smartest among you. Only Eitri the Dwarf can make me the weapon I need.” He turned to the furry animal. “I assume you’re the captain, Sir?”

Rocket grinned and nodded, “You’re very perceptive.”

“You seem like a noble leader. Will you join me on my quest to Nidavellir?”

“Let me just ask the captain. Oh, wait a second, it’s me!”  Rocket grinned. “Yeah, I’ll go.”

“Wonderful.” Thor beamed.

“Uh except that I’m the captain,” Quill chipped in

“Quiet!” Thor was now beyond bored of the moron.

“And that’s my backpack.” Quill continued pointing to the bag that Thor was stealing.

“Quill, sit down.” Rocket tapped at the pad and keying in the digits to open the pod.

“Look, this is my ship. And I’m not going to - wait, what kind of weapon are we talking about here?” Quill looked round.

“The Thanos-killing kind.” Thor smiled.

Boy, was it going to be a big, fucking weapon like no one had ever seen before…

“Don’t you think that we should all have a weapon like that?” Quill frowned.

“You lack the strength to wield them. Your bodies would crumble as you minds collapsed into the madness.” Thor shook his head.

“Is it weird that I wanna do it even more now?” Rocket asked.

“Erm, a little bit weird. Yeah.” Thor looked down at him, frowning.

“If we don’t go to Knowhere and Thanos retrieves another stone, he’ll be too powerful to stop.” Gamora stepped forward.

"He already is.” Thor shrugged.

“Look, I got it figured out.” Rocket interrupted, looking at Gamora. “We got two ships, and a large assortment of morons.  Me and Groot will go with the Pirate Angel here, and the morons will go to Knowhere to try and stop Thanos. Cool? Cool.”

“So cool.” Thor grinned before he climbed into the pod.

“For the record,” Quill said leaning down to Rocket, “I know that you’re only going with them because it’s where Thanos isn’t.”

“You know, you really shouldn’t talk that way to your captain, Quill.” Rocket smirked, walking backwards and gesturing outwards with his arms. “Come on, Groot. Put that game down. You’ll rot your brain,”

As Rocket sat down Thor nodded out of the pod to the rest of the people on the ship. “I bid you farewell and good luck, morons. Bye.”

******

It wasn’t hard for the team to track Wanda, her red power flashing bright against the dark sky over Edinburgh City Centre, and as the jet followed her movements, the four friends saw her spiralling through the sky with Vision and crashing through the train station roof, just as Sam put the jet on the ground.

Within seconds the Ex-Avengers were sprinting off the jet.  

“Katie, Nat, take the side!” Steve yelled, as he vaulted over the railings at the edge of the road running down onto the bottom half of the concrete ramp which led to the station. “Sam, up high and remember, we protect Vision at all costs!”

“Got em.” Sam spoke over the coms. “Platform seven, near the café.” 

Steve vaulted over another set of barriers, the station now deserted thanks to the evacuation taking place by the local police. As he ran onto one of the walkways over the lines, he was just in time to see two of the aliens crash through the station roof. Weighing up his options, he realised it was going to be quicker for him to hop down onto the platform he was currently overheard, and jump across the lines to help. He swung his legs over the railings and landed easily, looking up. Across from him he could see Natasha and Katie emerging to the right, as Wanda stood and moved protectively in front of Vision, building power in her hands. An express train whizzed past him and he stood still, waiting and it wasn’t long before the taller, blue looking woman spotted him, and she launched her spear over the platform. Steve easily snapped his left shoulder back whilst leaning over his body with his right, catching the staff in his hand.

“Heads up.” Sam muttered, and as Wanda and Vision turned to see Steve step out from the shadows, fury lining his face, Sam swooped in and kicked one of the aliens across the platform and through a closed café’s security gate, causing tables and chairs to go flying, before he spun and started to fire on the other alien.

Steve launched the weapon he had caught across the tracks where Natasha caught it and stabbed the second assailant in the gut as Katie moved in to head off the other who was stalking back towards them. The weapon Natasha had been using flew back into the alien’s hands and Katie ducked as she swung, jabbing her in the back of the leg with an electric powered escrima stick. The alien let out a yell, stumbled slightly and Steve cleared the platform in an easy leap, rolling and scooping up the second assailant’s staff from the floor, holding it up to block the blow that the creature aimed at Katie. He grit his teeth, planting his legs to absorb the power of the hit, as Katie rolled to the side, jumped up and the two of them began to fight the alien, joined shortly by Natasha. Steve had to admit, the woman (if you could call her that) was a force to be reckoned with, but the three of them were just about getting the upper hand when they heard Sam yell.

“DUCK!”

The three of them did so and Sam flew in hard, kicking the woman backwards where she fell and scuttled over to her fallen friend. Sam landed next to Katie, drawing both his submachine pistols on the couple.

“Get up” The alien instructed to her fallen partner, her voice was deep.

“I can't.” His gravelly, robotic voice replied.

“We don’t wanna kill you.” Natasha spoke coolly “But we will”.

“You’ll never get the chance again.” The female levelled them, with a cold glare and with that a beam shot down from the hole in the station roof and the two were transported upwards. The weapon Steve was holding also shot out of his hand. He frowned in surprise for a moment, looking at his hand then upwards as the beam of light disappeared and the ship sped off.

“Can you stand?” Sam asked Vision as Katie replaced her sticks and walked towards Wanda and the android. When Vision shook his head, Sam moved forward to help him up.

Supported by Wanda and Sam, Vision looked over at Steve, Natasha and Katie, electricity shimmering over his surface. He’d been badly damaged in the fight, and as he spoke his voice distorted.

“Thank you, Captain.”

Steve took a deep breath and nodded. His face stern, but his eyes were much softer than his expression and Katie knew why. It had been a while since anyone other than Sam, Nat or Wanda had called him Captain.

Steve looked at the android, he might have been damaged but they had the stone, and that was the main thing. Nodding, he spoke. “Let’s get you on the jet.” His voice was soft and he moved to let Sam and Wanda support Vision on their way past him, Natasha following.

Katie hung back a little, trying to stop the light-headedness she was feeling from washing over her.

“You okay?” Steve turned to her as she blinked.

“Yeah, just took a whack that’s all. “I’m fine.” She assured him as they took up the rear of the group, her fingers lacing into his.

Once Vision was safely settled in a seat at the side, Sam dropped into the pilot’s seat. Katie hit the button to close the ramp as the Jet rose into the air.

“I thought we had a deal.” Natasha spun angrily to Wanda. ”Stay close, check in. Don’t take any chances.”

“I’m sorry. We just wanted time.” The younger woman said gently.

Katie glanced at Steve, he was stood up in the middle of the jet, hands on the buckle of his utility belt, staring seemingly at nothing but clearly contemplating something.

“Where to, Cap?” Sam asked.

Steve looked up, he glanced at Sam then locked eyes with Katie as he spoke one word, one simple word that they had all been waiting to hear for almost two years.

“Home”

*****

After a few hours, with the morning sky being the only thing in sight, Sam started to lower the jet through thick white clouds and Katie couldn’t help but inhale sharply when the compound began to take shape as she watched out of the front window. It looked the same. The buildings, the grounds…she wasn’t sure why she had expected anything to change, maybe because it felt like everything had changed for them, but either way, there it was. The exact same as the last time she had seen it.

Steve noticed her demeanour change slightly as they landed. She stood up straight, her shoulders squaring as if she was about to face an onslaught. And they were, in a way. On their way Steve had called Bruce to tell him that they had Vision and were heading back, but had had no idea what they were heading back to, nor did he care. Be it Ross, police, the army, whatever, Steve was done bowing to anyone’s will, he was over playing other people’s tunes. The two years they had spent hidden had shown them all that they could operate on their own if required, and he wasn’t afraid to fight anyone who got in his way.

They stepped off the ramp and strode over the lawn, Katie taking a deep breath as she looked around. So many emotions flooded her system, she couldn’t explain or identify half of them. Memories flashed in front of her eyes, visions of long summer nights spent outside in the garden and on the BBQ patio until sunrise. Laughs during team dinners. Sam and Wanda collaborating on pranks. Training sessions with the team and Vision reading Tolkien aloud to Wanda before asking questions about humanity’s love of fiction. Walks and picnics and other things in the ground, just her and Steve. Their wedding, God their wedding! Frequent visits from Tony, bringing in new ideas and improved gadgets. Getting back safe after being out on a long mission. Feeling relaxed and at ease.

Feeling at home.

Steve’s arm curled round his wife for a moment before he pressed a kiss to the side of her head as Vision opened the door.

“Still no word from Vision?”  

“Satellites lost him somewhere over Edinburgh.”

“On a stolen Quinjet with four of the world’s most wanted criminals.” “You know they’re only criminals because you’ve chosen to call them that, right, sir? “

“My God, Rhodes, your talent for horseshit rivals my own.”

The sound of the call between Ross and Rhodey echoed down the corridor reaching the group that were making their way through to the lab.

“If it weren’t for those Accords, Vision would’ve been right here.” Rhodey shot back and Katie glanced back at Vision as the sounds the voices grew louder as they neared their destination.

“I suspect it will be a Hollo Call.” Vision said gently, answering Katie’s unasked question.  His suspicions were proven correct as they rounded the corner and the lab came into view. Rhodey was stood across from where the holographic image of Secretary Ross was facing off against him.

"You have second thoughts?” Ross was challenging Rhodey, who smiled simply as his eyes shot sideways. Steve strode forward, his presence as intimidating as ever, and the first thing Rhodey noticed was just how dark he looked. Gone was the upstanding, All American Hero, and in its place was someone much harder, far rougher round the edges. Kiddo looked different too. Her hair was shorter and she looked slimmer.

“Not anymore.” He grinned.

The holographic Ross followed Rhodey’s gaze and his eyes fell on Steve who was stood next to Katie at the front of the group, Natasha, Wanda, Sam and Vision behind them. Steve raised his chin a little defiantly and moved to take his power stance, feet apart, hands on his belt, before he greeted Ross politely.

“Mr. Secretary" 

Katie couldn’t help the smirk on her face as she watched Ross attempting to cover up the shock he had clearly felt at the group of outlaws turning up again. She locked eyes with Rhodey who gave her the smallest of winks before he glanced back at Ross who was shaking his head slightly as he approached Steve, his holographic form almost trying to square up to him.  Steve simply raised his chin further and looked down from the steps he was stood on.

"You got some nerve.” Ross sniffed, staring up at him “I’ll give you that.”

“You could use some of that right now.” Katie shot back bluntly, Ross turned his head to face her for a second. She held his gaze and arched an eyebrow until he turned back to Steve.

“The world’s on fire.” Ross said incredulously. “And you think, you can just walk back in here and all is forgiven?”

Steve levelled the secretary with a firm gaze. “I’m not looking for forgiveness.” his voice took on a threatening tone as he spoke “And I’m way past asking for permission.”

At that point the smirk on Katie’s face grew even wider as she stole a glance up at her husband, pride swelling in her chest as he continued, stoic and unyielding. 

“Earth just lost her best defender, so we’re here to fight. And if you wanna stand in our way,” he stepped down to be at level with the hologram, and stared it square in the eyes “We’ll fight you, too.”

Ross was practically foaming at the mouth as his eyes went to Rhodey and he spat out his order, “Arrest them.”

“All over it.” Rhodey promised nonchalantly before shutting off the hologram, shortly after a beeping noise sounded from the computers.

“That’s a court-martial.” He informed the group as he slapped the back of his right hand into his left palm, though his tone said told Katie that he blatantly couldn’t have cared less for Ross’ demands. There was a short pause as the group glanced down at their friend, Steve smiling softly, before Rhodey’s face split into a huge smile of his own.

“It’s great to see you, Cap.” He stepped forward.

“You too, Rhodey.” Steve answered, taking the last two steps down before he shook Rhodey’s hand. Katie threw herself at her brother’s best friend and he gave her a huge bear hug before he looked down at her.

“You do something to your hair?” He teased.  Katie smiled, stepping back from his embrace while he looked the rest of the group over.

“Well. You guys really look like crap. Must’ve been a rough couple of years.”

Steve looked round, an amused smile on his face as he glanced at his wife then to the rest of the team.

“Yeah, well, the hotels weren’t exactly five star.” Sam quipped back cheekily, the banter flowing between them like no time at all had passed.

“Uh, I think you look great.”

Steve turned at the new voice to see Bruce inching his way into the room nervously wringing his hands together.

Steve and Katie remained silent, exchanging a glance. In the rush around and the fray of the fight, we’d forgotten to explain exactly who it was that called.

“Yeah. I’m back.”

Katie glanced over at Nat, she had her gaze fixed solely on the scientist as she spoke “Hi, Bruce.”

“Nat.” Bruce answered inclining his head towards her slightly as he fidgeted.

“This is awkward.” Sam piped up. Steve and Katie looked at one another, before they both smiled and looked back up at Sam.

“Any news on Tony?” Katie asked gently, interrupting the silence that had fallen.

“Not yet no.” Rhodey said. “FRIDAY lost him when he left the atmosphere. We got NASA running scans and we’re trying to track his trail but…” He shook his head. 

“Typical Tony.” Katie rolled her eyes “Always has to go one bigger and one better doesn’t he?”

Her blasé tone wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Banner.” Steve said gently, looking across the room at the scientist. “Can you fill us in on what we’re up against here?”

“Yeah sure,” Bruce said nodding hesitantly.

Without so much as another word, the group all started to make their way out of the room. As Katie turned to follow Natasha, Steve’s hand gently fell on her shoulder. Without looking at him, she reached up and gently wrapped her fingers round his, giving them a squeeze before she left.

Steve took a deep breath as he glanced around the room once more, before he too followed on, that sick feeling in his gut was getting worse.

**** Chapter 36 Part 2

[ri-ahhh]

desert secrets

MJ meets a helpful stranger in the desert that turns out to be more than she hoped for.

7k holy shit lol

warnings: some pretty unrealistic fluff that might get your hopes up that you’ll have a meet-cute with Grayson

***

Shit. Fuck. Fuck. Shit. Shit on a fucking stick. You actual fucking idiot, MJ.

A stream of thoughts along these general lines becomes her stream of conscience as MJ Macias plops down on a large rock, throwing her head back to the sky to bask in the sun and her own general incompetency. Maybe the heat of the desert mountain sun beating on her face will cause her to shrivel up and disintegrate to become lizard food or something — the thought isn’t altogether unwelcome.

Her trip to the middle of nowhere was meant to clear her mind both through exercise in the form of a nice, long hike, as well as simply by being alone amongst nature, under an endless expanse of clouds and stars. The week had been pure hell for her: she had been let go from her dream job at her marketing firm in the latest round of budget-related layoffs; received a ticket from a dickhead cop for going 34 in a 30; and discovered last night that the hot water heater in her apartment had broken. To top it all off, her ex had been harassing her relentlessly over texts and calls, wanting to meet up and ‘talk about things’ since she had dumped him two months ago.

So as she cried hot tears in a frigid shower that morning, thoroughly wallowing in self-pity, an idea popped into her head that was so spontaneous and ridiculous she didn't even try to talk herself out of it: go on a solo camping trip.

MJ really has no idea why this of all the therapeutic outlets available to her was something her brain decided was the right one, since a camper she is not. Sure, she loves being outside in the sun for a good hike, or a swim in the ocean once in a while — nature isn’t the problem. It’s the whole navigating-desert-terrain-alone-and-sleeping-on-the-ground thing that isn’t usually at the top of her list of fun weekend activities. The tent and sleeping bag that she had been forced to purchase for the ridiculous bachelorette party of one of her very outdoorsy friends had called her name as she paced manically around her apartment that morning, though.

Did she have every intent to return them after their one-time use? Absolutely. Did they both end up getting thrown to the back of her storage closet and thus forgotten about until then? Also, yes.

Both her practically nonexistent camping experience and her general lack of enthusiasm for the activity as a whole should have been her first clues at how moronic she was for thinking this is a trip she should (or could) handle alone. But, now determined to have the ultimate self-care weekend, she had: packed a backpack as an overnight bag; tossed it with her shitty little tent and a cooler full of snacks and water in the back of her car; texted her best friend Lainey to sound the alarm if she wasn’t home in 36 hours; and driven away to the first camping ground Google showed her that was at least 100 miles outside of LA. It seemed adventurous and spontaneous an indie movie-esque at the time.

But now, as she sits on this rock, feet and back aching, utterly fucking lost, MJ is starting to feel more like she’s on a self-inflicted episode of Punk’d. Being very directionally challenged, she had been using the maps feature on her phone to find her way back to her campsite after going on a winding, hilly hike, until her phone had suddenly died. The trails have no legible signs so between her use of the GPS, the borderline stalker-ish calls from her ex, and the heat of the sun, she’s left without her lifeline much sooner than she could have anticipated.

She thinks of her backpack and the battery-powered charger in her tent. In a moment of pure rage with herself for being such a lost, ill-prepared dumbass, she wants nothing more than to run back up the mountain and punt the now useless little piece of metal and plastic into the abyss. Her inner drama queen thinks maybe the best thing that could happen is that it will fall on a mountain lion, which will devour her out of anger before she shrivels up into lizard food, and put her out of her misery early.

MJ rolls her eyes at how ridiculous she’s being, and forces herself to take a deep breath and think. Her inner antics really do bring up an actually pressing issue. There are plenty of animals out here that don’t need any iPhone provocation to attack, and she’s only armed with a half-empty HydroFlask and a sparkly purple tube of pepper spray. Not to mention, judging from the incurring pinkness of the sky, the sun is going to set soon, and with that means it’ll be getting cold as well. She looks down at her thin Lulu Lemon tank top and shorts.

Fuuuck.

Knowing she has to make a decision, MJ doesn’t second guess herself when her feet heave her body off of her rock and set off further down the trail. Her only hopes at this point are to either miraculously stumble upon her camp before dark, or pray that she runs into fellow campers that might have a portable charger and that also aren’t serial killers. The only people she had passed on her hike had been a middle-aged couple and a woman maybe a little older than herself with a dog, but she couldn't have any idea if they were staying on the campgrounds or merely taking a day trip. Like she should have done.

MJ walks down the trail a solid 20 minutes, and wonders where the hell she had actually gone on her hike to be so far out from her own campsite. Inexperience with the outdoors had made her assume all the trails met up in a circle, but clearly that isn’t the case here. She’s already out of the hiking trail and in one of the areas designated for camping, but there are a couple of those around the park and she has no clue which one she had chosen.

Trying and failing to keep the creeping worry out of her spine as a few clouds turn orange and the noises of the nocturnal wildlife start up, she picks up her pace.

She’s about to resign herself to huddling in an unoccupied camping spot for the night when she suddenly sees flumes of smoke about a football field away. The Hallelujah chorus fills her head, and she mumbles out a quick ‘thank you’ to whoever is listening as she practically speed-walks to her impending safety.

The smell of the crackling wood draws her nearer and nearer. When she finally rounds the corner, she’s surprised and disappointed to see that while there is indeed a small fire burning, as well as a deconstructed tent piled on the ground, the occupant of the campsite is nowhere to be found. MJ hesitates and looks around for any sign of them, not foreseeing this issue. Should she wait around like a creep? Keep walking and hope to run into them?

“Can I help you?”

MJ startles out of her skin and lets out an embarrassing little squeak. She whips around and is thoroughly unprepared to see what just might be the hottest guy she’s ever had the pleasure of laying her eyes on in real life. Judging from her own height, he’s maybe six foot or a tad over; his thick arms are laden with a bulky backpack and a sleeping bag, and his dark hazel eyes observe her warily behind a flop of dark wavy hair.

“Uh,” she begins stupidly, slightly stunned by both his sudden appearance and his masculine beauty. “Yeah, um, I’m so sorry to intrude on your space but, I, you know, got a little confused on the trails and, uh…”

He raises a naturally arched eyebrow expectantly as she pauses and stumbles over her words. MJ looks at him, then releases a huge breath she hadn't even realized had been held in her chest until this moment, officially giving up on not sounding like a complete and total idiot.

“I’m fucking lost. I have a terrible sense of direction and was using a map online of the trails to find the pin I dropped on my campsite, but my phone died. Is there any chance you have a portable charger I can use for, like, twenty minutes?”

The guy chuckles, and despite her pure mortification at the situation, MJ cracks a smile too, glad to see he isn’t pissed at her for lurking around his campsite like the actual weirdo she is. Unfortunately for her, though, his crooked grin somehow makes him even more attractive, which doesn’t bode well for her already inevitable awkwardness.

“Uh, yeah, I have my Mophie in here somewhere,” he says, indicating the backpack in his arms. He nods his head in the direction of his campsite where there is a large stone clearly put there by park officials as a makeshift bench. “Come on over and I’ll find it.”

“Thank you,” MJ sighs in relief. She follows him through the gap in the log threshold, and when he drops the items he’s carrying on the ground, she gapes; holy shit, the man is built. She could tell he had pythons for arms, but the stuffed backpack and sleeping bag had hidden the way his plain white t-shirt stretches taut over every solid, muscled crevice of his torso.

She shakes her head and hopes he can’t sense her obvious stare that has since traveled from the breadth of his shoulders, down his tapered waist, settled on his ass, and finished on the multitude of tattoos decorating his legs as he walks in front of her. MJ finds every one of these aspects of him immensely appealing; she’s never felt so viscerally attracted to a complete stranger in her entire life.

MJ settles on the rock and, sensing some of the aforementioned awkwardness about to settle in the air, searches her brain for a way to alleviate it. She knows she’ll only be here a short amount of time, but she feels compelled to get to know him even just a little bit. And to not make a complete fool of herself, if possible.

“What’s your name?” she asks. That’s a safe place to start. She hugs her knees to her chest as she watches him arrange the stuff he had just dropped into a neater pile.

“Grayson,” he replies. Grayson crouches down to dig through his backpack and flashes her a friendly, blinding smile over his shoulder. “Yours?”

As if she couldn’t embarrass herself any more, she feels a flush rise to her cheeks. For fucks sake, she isn’t 16 talking to her high school crush — she’s a grown woman who has been with plenty of guys and knows how to have a simple conversation with one, no matter how hot they are.

“MJ,” she finally manages to get out.

“MJ,” he repeats, testing it on his tongue, nodding approvingly. “That’s cool. I don't think I’ve ever met a girl with that kind of name. What does it stand for?”

He stands and turns to face her. He extends the little black charger to her and MJ looks up at him through her lashes as he towers over her, biting her lip. Flirting isn’t her strong suit whatsoever, but she can’t help trying; it’s not like she’s going to see him again by the time the sun sets.

“It’s a secret,” she answers after a brief moment, taking the Mophie from Grayson and accidentally-on-purpose brushing the tips of her fingers against the back of his. “Thanks.”

Grayson raises his eyebrows, but a humored grin graces his full lips. “Okay,” he says, surprising her by taking a seat next to her as she plugs in her phone. “But who better to spill your secrets to than a total stranger, you know?”

MJ can’t help the giggle that escapes her throat, humored more by the fact that he seems to be having the same idea of fuck it, we won’t ever see each other again, as her, than his actual question. His nearness should make her uncomfortable, but it just…doesn’t; he’s close enough for her to smell his scent emanating from his warm body. Clean, like laundry and soap, but also hints of an earthy, masculine cologne and an admittedly enticing musk from being in the sun. She wants to lean in and inhale him.

God, she hopes she isn’t coming off as insane as she feels inside. What is wrong with her? He’s just a guy. A guy whose close proximity as a stranger should be making her feel intimidated rather than buzzing with electricity.

“You’re very right,” she says, leaning back on her hands to appear more relaxed. “If I die out here in the wilderness, killed by my own stupidity, I wouldn't want the last person to see me alive not know my real name.”

Grayson throws his head back and laughs, and it draws one from herself as well. She likes his laugh because despite the deep timbre of his voice, the sound is carefree and boyish.

“It’s Makenna Jean,” she finally admits once they both quiet down. “I’m named after my grandmothers, but my mom didn't like your typical shortenings people might automatically give to Makenna — you know, Mack, Ken, Kenna, all those. So she just started calling me MJ to avoid it all, and…that’s me, MJ.”

He nods in understanding. “Gotcha.”

They continue effortless conversation for a while, words and laughter flowing freely from their lips with an ease that MJ hasn’t experienced in years. In the first lull, though, MJ fills it with a sigh and extends her long legs to stretch them as they tire from being folded so closely to her body, flexing and pointing her toes. She knows her shorts are a little too short, her tank top a little low cut, even with a sports bra on. It’s another one of those accidentally-on-purpose moves that starts as inadvertent in the way it exposes and elongates her body, but ends in her relishing the way his eyes quickly dart across her form. She’s reticent to admit that she isn’t mad about it. Not even a little.

She ducks her head and bites her lip to hide a triumphant smirk as Grayson clears his throat and runs a hand through his hair. “So, are you out here by yourself?”

For the first time since she met him, a little swoop of nerves unrelated to her attraction to him passes through the pit of her stomach. She feels like she’s always had a spot-on instinct for determining someone’s ‘vibes’, and Grayson has only given her good ones since the minute she saw him. Maybe she’s fallen victim to the Ted Bundy effect, though…

He seems to pick up on her hesitation, and Grayson slaps his palm to his forehead, squeezing his eyes shut. “Fuck, sorry, that was so creepy. I didn't mean it like that, I was just, uh, making conversation.” He opens his eyes and rubs his forehead and, to her shock, is he blushing now? “I promise I’m not a murderer.”

She might have still been weirded out by a guy even putting the word out there in this situation, but her gut is telling her that Grayson is harmless, and she prides herself on being a pretty good judge of character.

“It’s okay,” she says, giving him a serious look. “I promise I’m not either. But you should know that I’m packing heat with a fully loaded can of mace and my best white belt skills from the karate classes my mom made me take in 4th grade.”

Grayson gives her a disbelieving look. “Fourth grade karate, huh?”

“Yep. For real, I’ll karate chop your arm off if you try anything sketch.”

“Try,” he challenges with a beautiful, dangerous smile, leaning in ever so slightly and looking her dead in the eye. It takes her breath away a little bit. “I dare you.”

MJ scoffs, still keeping up this facade that she isn’t fighting every primal urge to mount him, especially with the unmistakeable tinge of flirtation in his last words.

“Fine,” she accepts. Grayson grins wider and leans back, offering her his right arm. “Get ready.”

“Oh, I am.”

She lines her hand up with the dip in his muscles between his shoulder and the top of his bicep, rears it back, and —

“Ow!”

The side of her hand simply bounces off of the solid mass of his bulging arm. Grayson does that head-back belly laugh again and she pretends to pout as she rubs her sore hand. “That hurt way more than it should have!” she exclaims. “What are you, Superman?”

Grayson, still laughing, grabs her hand in his and strokes it rather tenderly considering the sheer size of his palm compared to hers. And it’s so cliche, but MJ swears she feels tingles where their skin connects.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he says, biting his lip in an attempt to contain himself. “It’s just, in the least misogynistic way possible, that was high-key cute.”

“Hmph.” MJ scrunches her nose at him as her heart drops to her stomach in the best, scariest way.

Uh oh. He's a stranger, MJ; you’ve known him for half an hour, MJ; you’re in the middle of nowhere, MJ — you can’t catch feelings for a stranger you’ve know for half an hour in the middle of nowhere, MJ…

She clears her throat and gives his hand a slight squeeze before extracting it from his grip, hoping that conveys that she doesn’t disapprove of his touch. But the sun is well on it’s way to setting, and she does need to check her phone battery. It’s at 28%, not as much as she hoped for but probably enough to do the trick.

Shit. MJ really, really doesn’t want to leave him, but she can’t exactly invite herself to stay longer. She had already kept him from building his tent, and his fire is starting to die as well. She turns back to face him only to find his eyes trained on her, brow slightly scrunched. Her belly swoops again.

“I should, ah, probably get going,” MJ admits quietly, fidgeting with her fingers. A shiver runs down her spine and goosebumps raise themselves up the skin of her arms, too, as the setting sun steadily lowers the temperature around them. She crosses her arms across her chest, partly for warmth and partly to hide her stiffened nipples that peak through her thin sports bra and tank. “Or I really will kill myself out here in the dark by walking off a cliff or something.”

Grayson smiles woefully and lets out a little huff, ducking his gaze down for a moment and picking at a thread on his shorts. “Yeah, I understand.”

Is it her imagination or does he sound…disappointed?

When he looks back up at her, the sudden intensity of his gaze makes her swallow thickly. She wants so badly to ask for his number, his Instagram, his last name, but it all seems too weird given the circumstances and the amount of time (or lack thereof) they’ve spent together. Besides, she thinks, she’s still dealing with a psycho ex amongst the rest of her life falling apart, and doesn’t need any more boy problems in her already crazy-stressful life.

MJ stands and dusts off the back of her shorts. “Thank you, Grayson, seriously. You really did save my ass,” she says with a sad smile.

“Of course,” he replies, standing with her.

She unplugs her phone and pulls up both maps before setting off down the trail with one last wave at the gorgeous, sweet man she’s so reluctantly leaving behind.

“MJ, wait!”

She stops in her tracks, black Nikes skidding in the loose, sandy dirt. Turning around in time to see Grayson dig his hands in the backpack to fish out a sweatshirt and flashlight, her heart lifts when he starts jogging toward her. Despite her elation, however, she looks up at him confusedly.

“I’ve actually been to this place a few times, so I’m pretty familiar with the trails and campgrounds. I would feel a lot better if I walked you to your tent. Not that you need a man to help you anywhere or…whatever, but yeah, only if you want —”

“Grayson,” she interrupts, touching a slim hand to his forearm. She smiles, endeared at how flustered he’s getting. He runs a hand through his hair again. Is this him wanting to spend more time with her, or him simply being a gentleman? “I really do appreciate it, but I’ve already kept you from setting up your own camp. I couldn't ask you to walk me all the way to BFE and risk you coming back alone in the dark.”

Grayson shakes his head. “I swear, it’s fine. I’ve got a flashlight.” He clicks it on and shines it under his chin, illuminating his head in typical campfire story-time style, and makes a face at her. MJ giggles. “And you can’t be too far from here; there are only two main campgrounds and they’re less than a mile apart from each other, so I should make it back before dark one way or the other.”

A shiver from the cold overtakes her body suddenly. “Oh, here,” he adds, extending the purple hoodie to her. She starts to protest, but he shakes his head and holds it at her more insistently. “I know you’re cold.”

MJ flushes, but takes the soft garment from him gratefully. “I never said I was cold,” she remarks as she shoves her arms in the sleeves and slips it over her head. It practically swallows her, but it smells just like the laundry/cologne scent she had picked up earlier, only more concentrated and delicious.

Grayson eyes her up and down slowly, grinning. “I’m observant,” he says teasingly.

MJ raises her brows at him amusedly. Again, she should be creeped out, but there’s something about him that sends all potential red flags out the window.

“And I might not be done sharing secrets with you,” he adds quietly, smiling the softest, sexiest smile she’s ever seen and utilizing the ultimate puppy-dog eyes. “Please?”

Well, twist my arm, MJ thinks sarcastically. “Okay,” she says without hesitation now, her insides jittering with a strange mixture of happiness and nerves. He beams at her and jerks his head in indication for them to continue down the trail.

“So, you never said what you’re doing out here by yourself,” Grayson prompts, nudging her with his elbow.

MJ shakes her head and smiles up at him. “Nuh-uh. Not only is that a sob story no one wants to hear, it’s definitely your turn to share. So I could ask you what you’re doing out here by yourself?”

Grayson shrugs as if to say ‘fair enough.’ “I’m not, actually. I’m with my brother and his girlfriend because she wanted to camp, but my brother doesn’t know shit about it. I only came under the agreement that there was going to be no funny business while I was around, only to come back from getting firewood to find them going at it, so I chose to remove myself from the situation. They’re still at our original campsite further down the trail. I needed to make sure I was far enough away to not hear anything.”

MJ sucks in a sympathetic breath through her teeth. “Ooh, yeah, there’s nothing worse than being the third wheel, especially when you have nowhere to escape.”

“Exactly!” he exclaims, turning to her with his hands raised. “Thank you! Ethan told me I was being dramatic, but it definitely sucks. He’s been with her long enough now, I think he’s forgotten what it’s like to be the lonesome outsider.”

This is the perfect segue for the question, but it gets stuck in her throat. Come on, MJ, grown woman, remember? She’s sure she already knows the answer based on what he had just said, but it never hurts to check.

“So…you don’t have a girlfriend?”

“Nope.” She glances up at him to find him staring straight ahead with that lopsided, boyish grin. He looks back down at her and reciprocates the question. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

“Nope.” MJ is mortified to hear it come out as a whisper. She clears her throat and diverts her gaze to the sunset. She had literally, quite literally, just met this man — he should not have this kind of effect on her.

Just then, her phone buzzes, and she’s infuriated to see the deleted number of her ex pop up on the screen. She groans in frustration. “But it’s not for my idiot ex’s lack of trying to get back together,” she complains, wiggling the phone and sending it straight to voicemail.

“I’m sorry,” Grayson says, shaking his head understandingly. “I’ve definitely been there. How long have you been broken up?”

MJ swipes the voicemail notification away and rolls her eyes. “Over two months. We weren't super serious and it wasn't a crazy bad breakup or anything, we were just in different places, and I’m not one to be in a relationship just for the sake of it. Especially if I’m not feeling any aspect of it. I didn't hear a word from him the first month or so, but he’s acting like we were soulmates who had some tragic ending, calling and texting me nonstop the last couple of weeks.”

Grayson shrugs. “Sounds like he’s just realizing what he missed out on,” he says, grinning. MJ’s breath catches in her throat and she rolls her eyes again embarrassedly with a smile, flushing pink yet again. “Why don’t you block him?”

She sighs. “I probably will. I don't like to burn bridges like that unless someone really does me wrong, but it’s getting ridiculous at this point.”

Grayson nods. “I’m not just saying this, but I feel the exact same way. And about what you said with being in a relationship just to be in one. Like…” he ruffles the back of his hair, something she now detects as a tell for when he's uncomfortable. “Ok, like, this sounds so ugly and conceited, but if I really wanted to be with someone, I could. Ethan and I do social media for a living and we have a decent following, so it’s not a lack of girls, but that’s not me. Maybe when I was a little younger, but…yeah, not now.”

Wow. What does that mean, a decent following? Her job requires her to know the ins and outs of the social media side of marketing, but she isn’t super invested in it for herself entertainment-wise. Mainly, she’s active on Snapchat with her friends and just occasionally uses Insta, so with the knowledge of the spectrum of social media followings, that could really be any number in her book. “So you’re, like, an Instagram model or something?”

He chuckles. “No, no. We make YouTube videos mostly. We’re identical twins so a lot of them are stupid things based on that — challenges and skits and stuff. It’s pretty chill. We’re starting to dabble in documentary-style projects, too.”

MJ gawks at him playfully, though she is actually surprised by his admission. “There are two of you?!” she gasps.

Grayson gapes back at her jokingly. “Technically, yes. He’s my absolute best friend in the entire world and, like I said, we’re identical, but half the time we really couldn’t be more opposite if we tried. I’ll show you our channel later, if you want, and you’ll see.”

“Hmm,” MJ hums, catching her lip with her teeth briefly. “Well I’m sure Ethan is great, but I’m glad I met you, then.”

He bumps her with his hip. “Are you saying you like me?”

MJ rolls her eyes good-naturedly at the teasing lilt to his voice and hopes that the light is low enough that he can’t see the seemingly permanent tint to her cheeks. “Since we’re sharing secrets…maybe. Yes.”

“I like you, too,” he replies, just as quietly. She picks up a barely-detectable lisp on the ’t’ and the East Coast lilt on the ‘oo.’ It’s adorable.

Her heart flutters.

They walk steadily a few more feet in silence, when suddenly she feels his hand brush hers gently. She assumes it was accidental until it happens again, only this time there’s more assertiveness in the movement, clearly indicating what he’s trying to do. Her heart jumps in her throat as she gladly lets his palm dwarf her own as he takes her hand in his. They happen to both glance at each other, only to duck their heads simultaneously, each attempting to hide giddy smiles.

“Ah, so, secrets,” MJ says to break the silence that’s thick with the best kind of tension. “How old are you?”

There’s a beat of silence. “Old enough…almost,” he answers cryptically, side-eyeing her.

His reply actually makes MJ stop in her tracks, and she’s jerked a bit by their joined hands as he continues moving. “What?” she asks incredulously.

Grayson laughs heartily and squeezes her palm, melting her insides a bit. He’s clearly pleased with himself at catching her so off-guard. “I’m kidding. I mean, I am legal, but people tend to think I’m older than I am.” He observes her standing there, waiting for his answer, and finally relents. “I’m 20.”

MJ shakes her head, stunned. “Shut the fuck up!” she exclaims. “Twenty?! Dude, yeah, no kidding people think you’re older. I definitely did.”

He tugs on her hand to keep her walking, and MJ obeys dutifully, still amazed at yet another shocking disclosure. “Is that an issue?”

She shrugs; she feels like it should be, but he doesn’t look or act 20 at all. But also…an issue for what? They literally just met. And she should only be thinking of being friends; she can be friends with a 20 year-old.

That thought doesn’t stop her from answering, though, because time factor aside, something is happening between them. Something more than friends, if she’s letting herself be honest. “I guess it’s only an issue if it affects maturity, but that doesn't seem to be a problem here that I can tell.”

Grayson squeezes her hand again, and a shot of sparks zings up her arm this time. “Good. Now, are you gonna make me ask, or are you gonna tell me how old you are?”

MJ groans. Twenty. She’s basically a dinosaur compared to that. “God, I don’t even want to say now. I’m 24,” she admits.

“What’s wrong with that?” Grayson asks with a chuckle.

“Because…” How do you explain to a young, hot 20 year-old man that every year that you creep closer to 25 only means one year closer to the downhill to 30? “I don’t know. Sometimes I feel old. And stuck. Especially lately. And you seem like this super young, super successful guy. It’s a little intimidating.”

Grayson is quiet for a moment. “If there’s anything I know, it’s not to judge your path based on other’s. If you’re feeling stuck, something will happen that gets you unstuck. Age has nothing to do with that.”

His answer catches MJ by surprise in its sincerity and maturity and thoughtfulness. Before she can form an answer, they pass what must be his brother’s tent. She has to hush her fit of laughter into her free hand when Grayson makes a disgusted little noise and flips off the dark red canvas that is, indeed, rustling suspiciously.

From there on they share anything and everything about each other, with each other. Against her word from earlier, she tells him about losing her job and her other woes from the week; he briefly opens up that he had lost his dad a little over a year ago and is still coping with it. This shocks her a bit, but his openness leads her to sympathize with him by sharing how her mom had passed away in a car accident when she was 15. By the time they reach the next campground, their fingers are completely intertwined and she’s leaning her head on his shoulder, his smell enveloping her completely from both his shirt sleeve and the collar of the hoodie. MJ has truly never felt more connected to a man on this level, and it’s both exciting and terrifying.

They aren’t even to her tent yet and she already doesn’t want him to go.  

“Should be just around this corner,” Grayson says, squinting at her phone before concentrating on the trail again.

Sure enough, the next turn reveals her campsite, complete with the tent she had miraculously managed to construct herself and her cooler propped next to the same rock-bench that they had sat on at Grayson’s camp.

Her free hand clenches around his elbow. “Yep, here it is,” she says.

They stop and stand to face one another. “Thanks again, Grayson,” she tells him sincerely. “I didn't really know what the hell I was doing coming out here. In more ways than one, obviously.” This earns her a smile and — God, as if her heart could feel any more sappy in that moment — he brings their clasped hands to his lips to kiss the back of her palm. “But in the hour that I’ve known you I think you’ve helped me take my mind off things more than anyone else back home could have. So…thank you.”

“Of course, MJ,” he says quietly. “I could say the same. I rarely talk about my dad with anyone besides Ethan, let alone someone I just met.” Her heart warms at his confession, and a heated moment of quiet and intense eye contact passes between them before he breaks it. “Come on, I’ll help you start a fire.”

She nods, and they release their grasps on one another to gather sticks and dry brush at his suggestion.

“You know,” he says as he leans over the fire pit that’s now filled with their findings with her lighter, breaking the short silence, “I was going to spend the night alone since E was clearly pretty busy. I don't think he would miss me if I stayed for a bit. To keep telling secrets. If you want, that is.”

MJ swallows. What the hell is this night? She’s pretty sure sad, lost girls meeting and mutually falling for beautiful, polite, genuinely funny boys in the desert is something that only happens in the likes of cheesy Meg Cabot novels. Yet, here she is, living out her nerdy 16 year-old fantasies in real life somehow.

“Yes. I want you,” she murmurs finally, and though she doesn’t mean for it to come out as a bit of an entendre, she doesn’t regret her wording; even in the low light of the late sunset, she can see his eyes darken. “Won’t he notice eventually, though, if you stay gone for very long? And it’s getting dark…”

“If I can borrow your phone, I can text him,” he explains. “I don't have any service but you do somehow. I guarantee he’ll use the wifi in our car to check his phone before he goes to bed, so he’ll get it eventually.”

She nods and unlocks her phone for him. “How do you have service out here, actually?” he asks as he types out a new message.

“My brother,” she answers, entranced by the way his thick fingers fly across the keyboard of her phone. “Being a firefighter, he gets to be on this plan for first responders where he gets first access to a bigger network in case he’s in the middle of nowhere on a call or in a crowd during an emergency or something. I was able to sign on with his account and get all the benefits of it.”

Grayson looks up at her, surprised, and smirks when he hands her phone back to her. “Wow, a firefighter? So he could probably kick my ass if he wanted, huh?”

MJ laughs. “Normally I would say yes, but somehow I think you've got a solid 20 pounds of muscle on him, even though he's a little taller than you,” she admits.

She finally can’t resist anymore and runs her right hand over a bicep that is truly bulging right beneath the edge of his shirt sleeve, and allows herself to take in unabashedly the way the fabric stretches across his wide shoulders, his defined pecs…fuck, he’s sexy.

He swallows hard and she looks up at him. For the second time that night, the intensity of his gaze stuns her into silence and stillness.

When he ducks his head to meet her lips with his, however, her insides are screaming and the hand not clutching his arm travels to grip the front of his shirt, then the short hairs at the back of his neck.

More cliches, but it’s a perfect first kiss — soft but intense, not too much tongue but just enough as it deepens. MJ sighs into his mouth, deciding she would be perfectly content to do this with him forever despite the fire now lit within her at his touch that has her body begging for more.

It could have been a few seconds or a few hours that they stand there entwined with one another, but eventually they part, eyes closed and breaths panting heavily in the minimal space between them. The longer she isn’t distracted by his lips, the longer she stands there trying not to overthink things.

But the beauty of what this trip has been — what Grayson has been — for her is that it was the opposite of overthinking; it was instinctual, impulsive, and honest. In short, her motto had been ‘fuck it.’

Her green eyes open and lift to his hazel ones. “Grayson,” she whispers, “we’re telling secrets tonight, right?”

“Right,” he replies just as breathlessly.

She swallows past a small lump as an inexplicable rush of emotion hits her.

Fuck it.

MJ’s hands cup his angular jaw and she forces herself to keep eye contact with him. She takes a deep breath. “Look, I’m not into drama and feelings and fairytale shit. But I like you. I really like you, way more than I should considering we’re basically strangers, which fucking scares me. And even though I barely know you, I trust you for some reason. I just…need you to tell me if you feel kind of the same, or if this is starting to feel like too much now that I’m putting my thoughts out there. Because my gut is telling me this is mutual, but we can both walk away now and write it off as a crazy, whirlwind thing in the desert. I go in my tent, you go in yours, and we never see each other again.”

Her words come out in a rush, her last sentence almost painfully so. She also suddenly considers the idea that maybe he’s only using her as a fun story to tell his friends about, the pretty girl he met in the desert, wooed by his charm and good looks into her tent, only to be ghosted by him the next day.

Maybe the uncertainty in her life is leading her to be too impulsive with her wants and desires right now.

Maybe she’s starting to overthink things.

Grayson catches his lower lip with his teeth and mimics the position of her hands with his own. His thumbs brush the ridges of her mandible and his long fingers overlap at the back of her neck, scratching lightly. Despite herself, she could have purred at the sensation, almost does when it’s combined with that of his lips brushing hers tenderly.

“MJ,” he says lowly, resting his forehead against hers. “I’m not a fuckboy, I promise; like I said earlier, if all I wanted was a warm body beside me, I could have that in a second. What’s so hard for me is to find someone who's not after clout or money or anything that comes along with being in the social media space. Almost every girl I’ve talked to in the last couple of years has been attracted to one of those aspects of my life, not me. Once I find that out, no matter what they look like, I’m never interested in being in the same room as them, let alone in a relationship with them. I can tell you don't give a shit about any of that, and I love it. I love how funny, genuine, and kind you are. I love how naturally, absolutely gorgeous you are. That’s what I look for, that’s all I go for, and you’re all of it.”

Holy fuck, how is this guy real? It’s like he could read her mind. Her thumb tugs on his lower lip and he takes that as his cue to kiss her thoroughly again.

“Promise me now, then,” she huffs when they break apart, “no matter what happens tonight, we try to stay friends, at least, tomorrow.”

“Deal,” he agrees with a grin.

MJ bites her lip and smirks up at him. “How about we, uh, keep sharing secrets in my tent?”

Grayson raises his brow, his smile widening. “It is getting a little chilly out here.”

[jornthur]

“Unshaken” Chapter II

Originally posted: March 13, 2020

Arthur Morgan x Reader, Slow-Burn Romance

Summary: You save a mysterious man who is dying on a mountain. Finding out he has Tuberculosis, you use your knowledge and skills with herbs and natural remedies to save him from death and help nurse him back to health. As he slowly starts to recover, you can’t help but wonder: Who is this man? Why had you found him the way that you did, beaten and ill? Only time, patience … and perhaps love … will tell.

•••••

A large buck.

Arthur narrowed his eyes as he saw the creature in the distance, its head bent to the ground as it nipped at the blades of grass. He could’ve sworn he’d seen it before, but where the hell was he this time?

He looked around, taking in the hazy surroundings. The forest was thick with tall trees and wild foliage, the flora consisting of many different and beautiful colors. He could hear birds tittering high up in the branches as the sun’s rays shined through the trees’ thick canopies.

Was he dreaming again?

Arthur tried moving, taking a single step forward —

The buck jerked its head up from where it was grazing, looking over in his direction, directly into his eyes.

Arthur froze, his entire body going still as he looked into those eyes …

They were his own.

A single heartbeat sounded, and suddenly he felt a strong pull as he was sucked right into the stare.

Arthur jerked awake, his eyes opening as he let out a hard gasp. The sudden inhale caused a sharp pain to stab through his chest and he grimaced, letting out a deep groan.

He blinked, a mysterious bright light nearly blinding him. With a grunt he grimaced as he made an effort to lift his head. Sunlight was shining directly on his face, and he couldn’t see a damn thing. His vision was so blurry and he blinked a few more times in an effort to clear it up. Looking around, he tried to take in his surroundings.

Where the hell was he? The last thing he remembered was the feeling of the unforgiving rocky ground. Now he felt nothing but soft cushions beneath his body.

Arthur looked down and noticed that a thick wool blanket was covering him up from his shoulders down. He seemed to be lying on a large couch … in someone’s house?

He tried to move, but his body didn’t obey. It felt almost as though his limbs were completely paralyzed, as if he’d been drugged. His entire body might as well have been a limp wooden board.

Gathering up all the energy he could, he gradually brought his hand up from his side and lightly gripped the hem of the blanket. Lifting it up slowly, he looked down and saw that he was naked from the waist up, and his entire upper body had been patched up in several areas with thick bandages. Some more bloody than others.

What the hell had happened?

Voices started drifting into his head and he looked around, trying to figure out where they were coming from. He took in the cobblestone fireplace on the other side of the room, a full bookshelf, a couple sitting chairs — whose place was this? There was an open doorway across the room, and the voices seemed to be coming from there. The voices sounded like a man and woman — arguing?

“We can’t afford to be takin’ care of this stranger, Y/N! We’re barely gettin’ by as it is.” The man’s voice sounded angry, having a slight southern touch to his accent.

Stranger? Were they talking about him?

“For the last time, Austin, his name is Arthur! And you need to quit your complainin’!” A woman’s voice that time. Her voice had a somewhat southern lilt to it as well, similar to the man’s but a bit stronger. Who were these people?

Arthur squinted, trying to recall what had happened. He had no clue where he was — how did he get here? No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t seem to remember a damn thing.

Arthur frowned, suddenly realizing that the woman had said his name. How did she know it?

“I don’t give a damn what his name is! You’re wastin’ all our resources on a stranger who’s on the brink of death as it is,” the man snapped.

“This man needed help, Austin. What was I supposed to do? Just leave him there?”

The man named Austin seemed relentless. “You could’ve been killed, Y/N! It could’ve been a trap, what if it’d been an ambush? What would I have told Pa if you’d gotten hurt?”

Y/N … he could’ve sworn he heard that name before. A blurry image of a woman’s face flashed through his mind, and he groaned as the vision caused a sharp stabbing pain in his head.

“I’m sick and tired of arguin’ with you on this, Austin. Nothing bad happened, and I don’t know what else to tell you. You need to get over this already!”

The voices stopped then, and the woman Arthur had been hearing suddenly appeared in the doorway across the room. She stilled right in her tracks, seeming to notice that he had woken up.

•••••

You were getting weary of Austin’s squabbles.

No matter how many times you tried to make your brother see reason he absolutely refused to hear it. Austin had completely lost all rational thought when it came to Arthur’s presence in the cabin, and he took every opportunity he could to remind you how stupid he thought you were for what you did.

You were tired of his behavior, though. Of course, you knew Austin loved you — though he sure had a funny way of showing it sometimes — but his over-protective nature could get a little grating, more often than not. However, he was family, and you couldn’t blame him for wanting to keep you safe.

Still, though, his bellyaching was getting rather annoying. For the past three days Austin had been constantly on your back about you taking the injured man into your cabin and caring for him, and his anger was really starting to irk you.

Really, what else could you have possibly done?

This man … Arthur … he would’ve died on that mountain had you not found him. He’d looked so defenseless, so cold and weak, lying on that unforgiving ground. You knew deep down that you would not have been able to live with yourself had you just left him there.

You turned away from Austin, ready to storm right out of the cabin. There would never be any persuading your brother, and you could no longer stand to be in the same room with him anymore.

Planning to step outside to walk off your frustrations and get some fresh air, you abruptly halted in the doorway to the sitting room at the sight before you.

Arthur was awake, his eyes staring directly at you from across the room. You smiled and walked over to him, kneeling down by his side so that you were face-to-face. “Mornin’, Arthur,” you said in a gentle tone, “How’re you feelin’?”

He didn’t answer right away, seeming to examine you further with his blue-green eyes.

After several seconds passed, he opened his mouth but Austin suddenly came rushing into the room, addressing Arthur with an aggressive tone, “If you dare try anythin’ stupid, cowpoke, I’ll make sure you — ”

You’d had enough, you snapped your head around and glared at your brother, “Get out of here, Austin! Go check on the horses, clean the stables. I don’t care, just get the hell out!”

Austin gave you a pained look, “Y/N, I don’t want you near this man, especially when he’s awake,” he said, adding the last part through gritted teeth. Then he lowered his voice, his tone sounding worried, “What if he tries to harm you?”

You almost felt the strong need to roll your eyes. “Does he look like the sort of man that would try to harm me?”

Austin shot his gaze at Arthur and then back at you, “Yes.”

A short laugh escaped you at the disgusted expression he was making. You couldn’t help it, your brother’s lack of hesitation and how quick he’d been with his answer was almost comical. “Austin, the man is unwell and drugged. He’s not going to try anything on me, not even if he wanted to.”

Austin looked a bit skeptical, but finally gave a reluctant nod. “Fine, I’ll be outside choppin’ wood and takin’ care of the horses,” he shot another glare at Arthur as if in warning, adding darkly, “Shout if you need anythin’.”

You let out a sigh, and gave your brother a reassuring smile. “I’ll be fine. Just let me take care of him, please.”

Austin let out a hard grunt, then turned away and left the cabin through the front door, finally leaving you and the conscious Arthur alone.

You looked back down at Arthur to see that he was staring up at you with a confused expression on his face, those thick brows drawn down tight over his blue-green eyes.

“I’ve got — ” he took a deep breath and let out a long groan “ — so many damn questions.” Another big breath, his chest rising and falling as he flinched. He sounded exasperated, his tone dark and rough, “What the hell’s … goin’ on?”

His voice was much stronger than it had been before, having a heavily accented western drawl to it. It was deep, heavy … how in the world could any man possess such a voice?

You shook yourself away from that thought, focusing on what he’d just said. “Can you remember anything about what happened?” You asked, reaching out and lifting up the thick blanket to examine the old bandages.

Arthur just shook his head in response, “No … can’t say I can.”

After he’d given you his name the other day, he’d passed out soon afterwards from the drug you’d given him. You’d gone to work immediately on examining, cleaning and dressing the wounds on the rest of his body. Since then you’d changed the dressing a couple more times, and now it looked like it was time to do it again.

“Where am I?” He asked you as you stood up to walk into the kitchen and wash your hands in the sink.

The drugs that were being given to him were messing with his memory, but that was to be expected. The anesthetic on top of the herbs you had been treating him with for the past few days were having side effects on him, temporarily clouding up his mind. The medicinal properties tended to have strange and similar side effects on animals you’d treated in the past, making them behave rather strangely.

Treating a human … it was almost foreign.

“You’re in our cabin,” you answered him, “just north of Roanoke Ridge, we live right above Cerberus Falls, near Brandywine.” Once you finished drying your hands with a fresh cloth, you went over to your office, gathering fresh medicinal supplies from your desk.

“How’d I get here?” He asked, taking another deep breath. He let out a hard cough, and you looked over your shoulder to see that he was trying to sit up.

Rushing back over to him, you quickly set the supplies on the side table and placed a hand on his chest, gently pushing to urge him to lay back down.

“You need to lie still.” Keeping you tone soft in an effort to soothe him, you wondered about his last question. Had he forgotten everything from the other night? “We heard gunshots and my brother Austin and I found you on a mountain near O’Creagh’s Run.” You urged him down with your hand until he was lying flat on his back again. “We brought you back here, and I’ve been taking care of you for the past few days — but you have a long while until you’re well enough to get back on your feet.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, as if he were trying to remember the events of that night. “You found me on the mountain?” He asked, his voice graveled.

“Yes.” You took the blanket off of him and set it on the floor, getting to work on taking off the old bandages. “You were extremely weak, you were bleeding and having trouble breathing.”

Those last words made his eyes widen, as if he was suddenly frightened by something.

Instantly Arthur tried to sit up again, his upper body shooting up and startling you, but you quickly overcame your surprise and tried to get him to settle down. Placing a firm hand on his chest, you pushed him back down, trying to get him to relax. “Please, Arthur, I need you to stay still.”

“Get away from me, woman,” he snapped, struggling against your hold. You weren’t all that strong to hold such a large man down, but the state he was in helped in your favor.

You glared at him then, “My name is Y/N, not ‘woman.’ Everything is alright, Arthur, please calm down.” You were trying to keep your voice low in an effort to calm his nerves, but it wasn’t helping. “Please, you really need to rest.”

“No,” he said firmly, almost sounding fearful as he let out another cough. “I got TB, I don’t want … you gettin’ sick cuz of me.”

His unexpected words touched you, almost taking you aback. Here he was, hurt and bare, and he was trying to put you before his own health … even though he barely knew you.

“Arthur, it’s alright,” you said softly, “You won’t get me sick. I got treatments to prevent that from happening.”

Arthur suddenly stopped his struggles, his head turning back to you with a mixed look of surprise and confusion plastered on his face. “Treatments?” He asked, his voice matching the expression he made.

You nodded, “Yes, I’m a doctor that specializes in experimenting on natural remedies for diseases. Tuberculosis is one of them.” You began washing his wounds and redressing them with fresh bandages. Some of them were still more raw than others, but they were already looking much better than they’d had before.

As you worked on securing the bandages, you felt Arthur’s gaze on you. You tried to ignore the stare at first as you finished patching him up, but it went on for so long you couldn’t help but start to feel a little uncomfortable.

“What?” You asked, finally allowing yourself to look up at him as you finished the last patch.

“You … you treat TB?”

You hesitated for a moment, then nodded, “Yes, kind of … though this is my first time doing it on a human.”

His squinted at that, so you were quick to jump in and explain. “It’s the same process. Most species’ lungs are similar to each other,” You started rambling, talking faster and faster as you pretended to be busy with checking his bandages, even though they were already secure. All the while you could feel his scrutinizing gaze on you. “You were about to die, so I didn’t see the harm in trying to treat you — I gave you different doses based on your size —and I … and I needed to flush your lungs out with a special medicine — I just had to use slightly different doses — I mean, herbs because different species tolerate different herbs and I thought that maybe with a human I could — ”

You heard a deep chuckle and looked back up at his face.

He was smiling at you.

That grin had you stop in your tracks and lose all your train of thought right then and there. It was like nothing you’d ever seen on any man, causing a shiver to go through your body.

Arthur took another deep breath, and spoke his next words softly, “So you been treatin’ my TB, huh?”

After a few heartbeats passed, you nodded.

Arthur’s grin widened, but then quickly faded as a thought seemed to occur to him. “How the hell — ” his chest rose and fell, “ — d’you know all this?”

You lifted a brow at his question, “What do you mean?”

“The herbs … natural remedies, as you put them — ” His body convulsed as another coughing fit took over, and he turned his head away until it passed. He didn’t need to since you took some medicine yourself to fight off any possible bacteria, but you appreciated his kind thought. He turned to face you again, “How d’you know … how to treat somethin’ like this?”

You grabbed the hem of the wool blanket and pulled it over his body, tucking it just over his shoulders. “My father, well he was a busy man, but he had a lot of love for animals. My mother was a doctor like me, though I swear to you you’d think she was an herbalist around the clock. Her passion in life had always been about plants and researching their different properties. What they could do, what benefits they gave … ” You laughed then, thinking back, “She would always come to me excited whenever she found something new that a plant or flower could do.”

You thought back to your childhood, unable to hold back a smile as you recalled the memories.

Having grown up on a plantation with a large farm that your grandmother had owned, you knew a lot about all kinds of animals thanks to your parents. Your father had taught you all about the animals and how to take care of them, while your mother would always teach you about all the plants she’d found and what she’d discovered about them.

Your parents had taken in so many sick animals, both wild and owned, caring for and nursing them all back to health. They’d found great joy in aiding the creatures, and you enjoyed learning what you could from them.

Life had been so simple back then.

But … all of that had come to a crashing end when a gang of outlaws had raided your home in the dark of night.

You instantly lost your smile then, the terrible memory flooding your mind against your will.

Both you and your mother had been in the kitchen discussing chores. Your father had been out of town on business with a client, and your brother had been riding out in the country with his horse.

Several of the plantation’s guards had been killed before anyone was able to send out a warning, and the outlaws had managed to break into the house, tying up you and your mother as others ransacked every room as if they’d been searching for something. They’d interrogated and beaten her, only to kill her with a shotgun right in front of you.

If it hadn’t been for the lawmen charging in when they had, you had no doubt the outlaws would’ve done away with you as well. They’d gotten away, though, riding away on their horses and disappearing into the thick forest across the fields.

You felt a tear roll down your cheek. Your brother and father had been absolutely broken at the news when they’d come back. To hear that the woman you all loved more than anything in the world was now gone, and the outlaws responsible for her death had never been found.

No one had ever found out what they’d been after, and since that night, you and your family had never been the same.

And of course, having lost your mother due to a gang, you’d grown up despising outlaws with every ounce of your being to this day. They were monsters. Killers. Thieves. All they ever did was hurt and destroy innocent people and their families.

Your mother had found a passion in saving lives.

You wanted to do the same, and so you’d dedicated your life into carrying on her work.

Gathering yourself so as not to get carried away with your emotions, you took a deep breath and forced a smile, looking back down at the man lying on your couch. “They taught me everything I know, but my mother was the one who encouraged me the most.”

Arthur looked at you for what felt like ages, the silence stretching between the two of you as those blue eyes of his seemed to study you for the longest time. Finally, he took a deep breath, “Your mother sounds … like she were an amazin’ woman,” he said softly.

You didn’t know why, but this man’s deep western drawl and what he said comforted you somewhat.

Nodding, you replied softly. “She was.”

He gave you a gentle smile as if to try and comfort you, “I’m real sorry, Y/N.” His soft tone seemed to melt your nerves, helping you to relax a small bit.

You returned his smile with another one of your own. “Well, she’s in a much better place now.”

“I’ve no doubt,” Arthur replied.

There was another long moment of silence, and it seemed to go on forever, the clock on the wall making the only sound in the quiet room.

Shaking yourself mentally, you stood up quickly and cleared your throat, quickly changing the subject to switch up the mood, “It’s time for another dose.”

Arthur raised those dark brows of his, “What’re you talkin’ ’about?” He asked, your sudden change seeming to have surprised him.

Walking over to your desk again, you grabbed the same vial and an empty syringe, a bottle of alcohol along with cotton and gauze, and finally a spoon and a pot of honey. While you gathered everything you explained it all to him. “You need another shot to help treat your Tuberculosis, Arthur. All of this is supposed to help kill off the bacteria that’s still left in your body. Once that’s done, your lungs and any other effected areas you have can finally start healing.”

“How d’you know all these things?” He asked.

“I had a few farm animals and a couple horses while I was growing up that were struck with the disease,” you answered, “both my mother and father showed me how to do the treatments on some of them.” You came back over with everything, kneeling back down by his side.

“Of course, horse lungs are much bigger and more resistant to Tuberculosis, but that made it easier for us to examine them so we could treat it. Unlike the smaller animals. They were a bit more difficult,” you stated. “My mother made a journal at that time to take notes whenever she would perform these treatments. All the research that she and Pa ever did she wrote down in that journal. It’s now in my desk, and over the last few years I’ve come across other animals struck with all kinds of diseases, including Tuberculosis. Her journal has guided me through all of my treatments.” You met his eyes then, “I haven’t failed in curing one yet.” You added lightly, trying to give off a bit of humor to lighten the mood.

But the effort was in vain, as Arthur just looked at you, almost as if he were questioning the situation. “And I’m the first … human you’ve ever treated?” He asked skeptically, almost sounding concerned.

“Well,” you said with a bit of annoyance from the doubt in his voice, “You were about to die so I guess there was no harm in me tryin’, was there?”

That succeeded in making him let out a sudden burst of laughter, which Arthur regretted instantly. You flinched in sympathy as the pain ran through his entire body. “Son of a bitch,” he swore through gritted teeth, cursing more underneath his breath.

You gave him a sympathetic smile as you prepped the syringe, drawing the liquid from the vial into the barrel.

“What the hell’s that?” He asked you as he stared at the vial of medicine as if it were alien to him.

You almost wanted to laugh at the expression he was making as he stared at the syringe with a strange look. “This is a special remedy that I made myself to treat TB. I need to insert it into you arm now, if that’s alright with you?”

Arthur didn’t answer as he just stared at the needle for the longest time.

“Arthur?”

He seemed to be thinking about whether or not he should trust you.

After several more seconds passed, he finally gave you a small nod, “Sure.”

The way he said that single word sent a shiver down your spine.

Letting out a small sigh, you smiled at him. The fact that he was trusting you like this, especially with putting something he didn’t know of in his own body, it meant a lot more to you than you thought it would.

You gripped his wrist gently and turned his arm until it was facing palm-up. “Alright, Arthur, this is going to sting a bit,” you said as you began prepping his inner arm, rubbing the alcohol into his skin to disinfect the area.

Arthur didn’t say a word, only giving you a small nod.

Once you found the large vein, you brought the point of the sharp needle to his skin and pushed it in. His whole body jerked, and he let out a deep grunt of pain, his eyes squeezing shut as his lips pulled back over his teeth in a hiss.

“Almost done,” you said as you pushed down slowly on the plunger, letting the medicine make its way into his body. After it was empty, you took the needle out and patched him up immediately. “Now don’t go messin’ with that, Arthur,” you said in a firm voice, gesturing at the bandage, “It needs to sit there for a few hours so don’t you go makin’ a mess.”

Arthur chuckled at your authoritative voice. “Yes, ma’am,” he replied teasingly, making you blush.

You couldn’t help but let out a small giggle from his playfulness as you put the syringe away. “Alright, now for the fun part,” you teased back as you picked up the honey pot. Lifting the lid and dipping the spoon in, you scooped out a heaping dose of honey and held it out to him, close to his lips.

“And what’s this for?” He asked, not opening his mouth to take the honey even though he knew you expected him to.

You nearly wanted to roll your eyes as you smiled again. “It’s honey.”

Arthur shot you an annoyed look, “I know it’s honey, dammit.” He snapped, “But why … are you givin’ it to me?”

“It’s a natural remedy to help kill off Tuberculosis bacteria,” you replied impatiently, pressing the spoon to his lips in an effort to get him to open them. “Now open up, here comes the choo-choo train — choo-chooooo!” You made train noises as you moved the spoon around in the air like a train coming down the tracks. Destination: Arthur’s mouth.

At that very moment the look in those blue-green eyes of his would’ve set a forest on fire. “I ain’t a little kid, missy,” he growled at you, that deep western drawl of his sounding dark and threatening.

“Oh, I know,” you replied, completely unphased by the threat, “But where’s the fun in treatin’ you like an adult if you’re not gonna act like one?”

He growled at that, and with great reluctance parted his lips and accepted the honey as you placed it in his mouth. You waited for him to swallow. Once he did, you took out another spoonful and held it out to him. He took five more more after that, each bite either more or less stubborn than the last. When he was done, you placed the lid back on the honey pot and placed it on the side table.

“All finished!” You said to him cheerfully.

Arthur just snorted at you and looked up at the ceiling. “And how long you been … torturin’ me like this, Y/N?” He asked in an accusing but playful tone.

“A few days now, though it hasn’t been easy. Had to feed that honey to you through a tube to make sure it made its way to your stomach.”

He grimaced at that, looking disgusted. “Really wish you hadn’t … told me that part, ma’am.”

You gave him another sympathetic smile, “Well, Arthur, I don’t think we need to do that anymore now that you’re back with us again.”

He chuckled softly at that, the low laughter rumbling deep in his chest, “Let’s hope not, … honey.”

•••••

— To Be Continued

[hunterguyveriv]

Sometimes a Stranger can help you Heal

Another 2 day combined into one for the Day 5 (Conversation in Black Lion) & and Day 6 (Battle Injury/Angst/Healing).

Both Keith & Acxa may seem out of character, but this is how I see the span of time between the time of Zethrid’s ship and when the lions land on the planet Acxa was stationed. It is meant to only center on Keith & Acxa

"What if she makes a move against him? We barely survived our last ground encounter with the Generals, let alone them in the Sincline ships!" The voice of an older female could be heard, "I trust my son enough to hold his own. One of our training regiments was close-quarters combat to simulate an attempted Cockpit takeover. Besides, if this Acxa DOES makes a move against him, I won't need to worry about him..."

In a matter of seconds, the mouth was pressurized and filled with oxygen. Keith landed with the full force of their weight on his left shoulder, causing it to dislocate. The cockpit pathway was now available to both of them as Black turned and rejoined the other lions. He grabbed his numb unresponsive left wrist, picking it up from the area between her navel and waist, letting it drop to the floor. Keith grimaced as the angle his arm was in caused more pain, which he couldn't focus on. 

He jumped up, holding his left arm, rushing to the cockpit. Once in, he greeted his wolf, and delicately stepped over him. He was quickly hitting some buttons on the console. The console had a loading wheel before flashing off. He promptly sat in his chair, grabbing his left wrist again and resting his arm on his hip, hand limply hanging between his legs before holding the right-hand joystick. He shifted black to regroup and take the point in the formation.

Acxa was a mere 50 seconds behind him when she entered the cockpit. She saw Keith deliberately not using his left arm but saw some movement out of the corner of her eye. She saw and wast both shocked and startled that he had an injured Tlvdatsi Wolf. She looked back at the paladin, trying to figure him out. Figure out how the ruggle he got an animal supposedly extinct due to Zarkon hunting them down, wanting to unlock their teleportative abilities. She sat down slowly next to the wolf, not to seem aggressive or to jostle it, causing more pain. As she sat down, the wolf whined in pain, causing her to instinctively stroked his fur and prove some sort of comfort.

Over the comms came the voice of the one she knew from the Weblum as Hunk "Guy's we need somewhere to do close by to land and charge the lions! They can't take much more." A soft voice came from the floor, "I know of a place you can hold out." Keith looked at her as she typed on her gauntlet, "Go to Planet Verolgah-VI. You can lay low for as long as needed while they charge up."

Keith typed in the Planet's name and saw it would take 8 hours at their current levels to get there. Plotted a course, and everyone followed. He turned to face her and thank her for everything she had done, but she had fallen asleep next to his wolf. Stroking his fur gently, she had one of the most peaceful looks on her face.

She was woken up by some strained grunting. She looked up and saw a helmetless Keith standing near the cot for the Black Paladin. He had his hand in between the railing to get in it and the wall. He had is bayard in his mouth, chomping his teeth, which some looked Galra, and some looked human on it as he tried twisting his arm. She heard a growl escape his throat, which prompted his wolf to lift his head and look at him cocking his head. She saw him twist his arm relatively fast and yank. She heard a sigh come from him as he reached up and stroked his shoulder a little, telling her it was dislocated. She watched with abated interest then horror as she saw him take his arm from between the wall and railing and then slam his left shoulder full force into the wall. She winced, hearing a blood cruddling pop and a Yelp-like growl from being his bayard.

She watched as he flexed his left arm, even open and close his hand. He took his bayard from his mouth and let it dematerialize into its storage area in his leg armor. He turned, seeing her watching him, causing his cheeks to burn "Sorry, didn't mean to wake you." She waved her hand slightly and stiffly got up "It's all right, but if you needed help you should have asked." She got up and felt his left shoulder region for any severe damage.

Keith stopped feeling heat around his neck, "I know, but I'm still not used to asking for help." She rested a hand briefly on the space between his chest armor and shoulder pad. They stood there in awkward silence for a group of seconds before getting flustered. Keith went back to the pilot's seat. Acxa sat on a small ledge to his right, "But you are the leader of Voltron." 

Keith typed on his console's right panel, transferring power and controls back to the left side. He flexed his arm briefly before taking the left joystick releasing a sigh of relief. He looked back at her with a somber look, "Ever since my father died and and my mother-Krolia was out of the picture since I was a mere baby, all I could rely on was myself." Acxa to tell he was still hurting from his past as he looked back to his view screen, "Sure I had Shiro after he recruited me for the Galaxy Garrison and eventually became a type of brother figure to me, but…"

"You still remained an outcast." He nodded as she finished his thoughts. "Even now, when I am with the team it feels like I am still kept at a distance." She sat there intently, "but what of the one called, I think Hunk, from what I remember of the Weblum, he seemed like he was trying to get close."

She saw Keith reach up and touch the area of his right trapezoid and breastbone area. "Yeah, during a trying time, besides Shiro filling that brotherly role, of the team he was the only one who bothered trying." She looked at him, puzzled, causing him to sigh and looked at her. "I was in a dark place leading up to the battle in which Voltron fought Zarkon. Up to possibly a week prior to that battle, I had gone my entire life believing I was human. That was until I met a Blade member by the name of Ulaz."

He reached a concealed compartment that had mostly chewie snacks for his wolf, which prompted his wolf to get up and sit next to his arm, nuzzling it for some, along with his knife. He grabbed a couple of pieces of dried meat for the wolf and his knife. The wolf eagerly took the chewies and ran to "Daddy's Cot" and jumped on it.

Acxa, in a very long time, giggled at the defeated sigh but put her attention back on Keith. "My beliefs that I was completely human started to falter when Zarkon said, 'I fought like a Galra Soldier' which don't get me wrong was quite a compliment in itself." He saw her nod, "As you should." He held his knife forward, the same knife that transformed into a large sword at the Kral-Zera "But it was seeing this emblem on Ulaz's weapon that shook my foundation."

"Once we met with the Blade of Marmora to be potential allies against Zarkon, but things nearly spiraled out of hand until Blade-Master Kolivan put me through the trials in which I awoken the blade." As he put his knife in a secret hilt, he had specially made for his armor, "That is when you learned you were Galra?" He looked at the timer to reach the Planet that her base was on compared to the remaining power time for the lions, it was cutting it rather tight "Correct." He went back to piloting Black. "How did the others react?" 

She could see she struck a still-raw nerve with his demeanor change, "Sorry…" He politely waved her off, "No, no, it's okay." He initiated the auto-pilot, he shifted to face her. "Lance, the loud pain in the ass actually didn't insult me about it. He said it even made sense since I made Galra consoles work, and the jacket I wore before leaving for a time reminded him of Sendak's armor. Pidge, she looked at it from a scientific standpoint and Coran. Coran told me he already knew, but felt it wasn't his place to tell me.

"Is that why you helped me out in the Weblum?" She saw him smirk, "Yes and no." She gave him a puzzled look. "Honestly I had no idea you were Galra until I saw your insignia. But my father who was a firefighter, had taught me from a young age that if I saw someone in need regardless of who they are you help them." "Sounds like he was an honorable man," she placed a hand on his forearm. "He was, infact that is how he met mom. Watching a vision from the Quantum Abyss, she crashlanded on Earth preventing a scout from revealing the location of the Blue-Lion…" Smirking quite ironically "something that still irks Allura quite a bit."

That last bit, she barely caught, but something definitely caught her attention "It seems, we are destined to keep crossing each other's path." He looked at her, "Oh?" "Affirmative. According to you, we met the same way your parents and ever since, we have been crossing each other's paths." His face in a matter of Milliseconds to a sudden realization, "You may be right!"

"But why… wait, what about Allura's reaction?" "Maybe because of it? We had grown close before the revelation. We were always stealing glances from one another when others weren't paying attention. Of all the Paladins she was always eager to join me, even was the toughest on me because Red was her father's lion. But it all changed after my trials..."

Acxa could tell he was still hurting. Hurting that, he experienced something that she, Lotor, Narti, Zethrid, and Ezor grew used to in nearly a quarter of a century. "All she saw was me as a Galra. Keep in mind I had a lot on my plate, I needed support from my team, my ENTIRE, team. But she cut me so deep that I was willing to take a suicide mission. Even after her… attempt of an apology, how could I lead someone who didn't want me there in the first place." Acxa nodded, sensing there was more anger and bitterness under the surface.

"Well it's her loss." She placed a hand on his and squeezed it softly. "You will find someone worthy of your devotion." Turning to hide the blush on his face, "Maybe I already have." He flipped his hand over, so their fingers intertwined. They gazed into each other's eyes briefly faces slightly red and purple before the proximity alarm brought them back to the immediate reality.

Planet Verolgah-VI was approaching fast, with systems starting to shutdown. Acxa uploaded a map to her base, which Keith sent to the rest of the lions. She even announced over the comms that they have to be careful entering the atmosphere due to Ion storms that had a tendency to appear out of nowhere. Keith gave the order to put their helmets back on and divert life support and any other unneeded energy to thrusters. Seconds before entering the upper atmosphere, more and more systems start to fail in the lions, "Anyone who isn't piloting, strap in! This is going to be rough!"

[the-mill-kat]

Unshaken Chapter II

Arthur Morgan x Reader

Posted March 13, 2020

“Unshaken” Masterlist  “Unshaken” AO3

A/N: It’s finally here! I’m so excited to be moving this story along, please enjoy and let me know what you think. I can’t wait to write more! 🤠🦌

You save a mysterious man who is dying on a mountain. Finding out he has Tuberculosis, you use your knowledge and skills with herbs and natural remedies to save him from death and help nurse him back to health. As he slowly starts to recover, you can’t help but wonder: Who is this man? Why had you found him the way that you did, beaten and ill? Only time, patience … and perhaps love … will tell.

A large buck.

Arthur narrowed his eyes as he saw the creature in the distance, its head bent to the ground as it nipped at the blades of grass. He could’ve sworn he’d seen it before, but where the hell was he this time?

He looked around, taking in the hazy surroundings. The forest was thick with tall trees and wild foliage, the flora consisting of many different and beautiful colors. He could hear birds tittering high up in the branches as the sun’s rays shined through the trees’ thick canopies.

Was he dreaming again?

Arthur tried moving, taking a single step forward —

The buck jerked its head up from where it was grazing, looking over in his direction, directly into his eyes.

Arthur froze, his entire body going still as he looked into those eyes …

They were his own.

A single heartbeat sounded, and suddenly he felt a strong pull as he was sucked right into the stare.

Arthur jerked awake, his eyes opening as he let out a hard gasp. The sudden inhale caused a sharp pain to stab through his chest and he grimaced, letting out a deep groan.

He blinked, a mysterious bright light nearly blinding him. With a grunt he grimaced as he made an effort to lift his head. Sunlight was shining directly on his face, and he couldn’t see a damn thing. His vision was so blurry and he blinked a few more times in an effort to clear it up. Looking around, he tried to take in his surroundings.

Where the hell was he? The last thing he remembered was the feeling of the unforgiving rocky ground. Now he felt nothing but soft cushions beneath his body.

Arthur looked down and noticed that a thick wool blanket was covering him up from his shoulders down. He seemed to be lying on a large couch ... in someone’s house?

He tried to move, but his body didn’t obey. It felt almost as though his limbs were completely paralyzed, as if he’d been drugged. His entire body might as well have been a limp wooden board.

Gathering up all the energy he could, he gradually brought his hand up from his side and lightly gripped the hem of the blanket. Lifting it up slowly, he looked down and saw that he was naked from the waist up, and his entire upper body had been patched up in several areas with thick bandages. Some more bloody than others.

What the hell had happened?

Voices started drifting into his head and he looked around, trying to figure out where they were coming from. He took in the cobblestone fireplace on the other side of the room, a full bookshelf, a couple sitting chairs — whose place was this? There was an open doorway across the room, and the voices seemed to be coming from there. The voices sounded like a man and woman — arguing?

“We can’t afford to be takin’ care of this stranger, Y/N! We’re barely gettin’ by as it is.” The man’s voice sounded angry, having a slight southern touch to his accent.

Stranger? Were they talking about him?

“For the last time, Austin, his name is Arthur! And you need to quit your complainin’!” A woman’s voice that time. Her voice had a somewhat southern lilt to it as well, similar to the man’s but a bit stronger. Who were these people?

Arthur squinted, trying to recall what had happened. He had no clue where he was — how did he get here? No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t seem to remember a damn thing.

Arthur frowned, suddenly realizing that the woman had said his name. How did she know it?

“I don’t give a damn what his name is! You’re wastin’ all our resources on a stranger who’s on the brink of death as it is,” the man snapped.

“This man needed help, Austin. What was I supposed to do? Just leave him there?”

The man named Austin seemed relentless. “You could’ve been killed, Y/N! It could’ve been a trap, what if it’d been an ambush? What would I have told Pa if you’d gotten hurt?”

Y/N … he could’ve sworn he heard that name before. A blurry image of a woman’s face flashed through his mind, and he groaned as the vision caused a sharp stabbing pain in his head.

“I’m sick and tired of arguin’ with you on this, Austin. Nothing bad happened, and I don’t know what else to tell you. You need to get over this already!”

The voices stopped then, and the woman Arthur had been hearing suddenly appeared in the doorway across the room. She stilled right in her tracks, seeming to notice that he had woken up.

•••••

You were getting weary of Austin’s squabbles.

No matter how many times you tried to make your brother see reason he absolutely refused to hear it. Austin had completely lost all rational thought when it came to Arthur’s presence in the cabin, and he took every opportunity he could to remind you how stupid he thought you were for what you did.

You were tired of his behavior, though. Of course, you knew Austin loved you — though he sure had a funny way of showing it sometimes — but his over-protective nature could get a little grating, more often than not. However, he was family, and you couldn’t blame him for wanting to keep you safe.

Still, though, his bellyaching was getting rather annoying. For the past three days Austin had been constantly on your back about you taking the injured man into your cabin and caring for him, and his anger was really starting to irk you.

Really, what else could you have possibly done?

This man … Arthur … he would’ve died on that mountain had you not found him. He’d looked so defenseless, so cold and weak, lying on that unforgiving ground. You knew deep down that you would not have been able to live with yourself had you just left him there.

You turned away from Austin, ready to storm right out of the cabin. There would never be any persuading your brother, and you could no longer stand to be in the same room with him anymore.

Planning to step outside to walk off your frustrations and get some fresh air, you abruptly halted in the doorway to the sitting room at the sight before you.

Arthur was awake, his eyes staring directly at you from across the room. You smiled and walked over to him, kneeling down by his side so that you were face-to-face. “Mornin’, Arthur,” you said in a gentle tone, “How’re you feelin’?”

He didn’t answer right away, seeming to examine you further with his blue-green eyes.

After several seconds passed, he opened his mouth but Austin suddenly came rushing into the room, addressing Arthur with an aggressive tone, “If you dare try anythin’ stupid, cowpoke, I’ll make sure you — ”

You’d had enough, you snapped your head around and glared at your brother, “Get out of here, Austin! Go check on the horses, clean the stables. I don’t care, just get the hell out!”

Austin gave you a pained look, “Y/N, I don’t want you near this man, especially when he’s awake,” he said, adding the last part through gritted teeth. Then he lowered his voice, his tone sounding worried, “What if he tries to harm you?”

You almost felt the strong need to roll your eyes. “Does he look like the sort of man that would try to harm me?”

Austin shot his gaze at Arthur and then back at you, “Yes.”

A short laugh escaped you at the disgusted expression he was making. You couldn’t help it, your brother’s lack of hesitation and how quick he’d been with his answer was almost comical. “Austin, the man is unwell and drugged. He’s not going to try anything on me, not even if he wanted to.”

Austin looked a bit skeptical, but finally gave a reluctant nod. “Fine, I’ll be outside choppin’ wood and takin’ care of the horses,” he shot another glare at Arthur as if in warning, adding darkly, “Shout if you need anythin’.”

You let out a sigh, and gave your brother a reassuring smile. “I’ll be fine. Just let me take care of him, please.”

Austin let out a hard grunt, then turned away and left the cabin through the front door, finally leaving you and the conscious Arthur alone.

You looked back down at Arthur to see that he was staring up at you with a confused expression on his face, those thick brows drawn down tight over his blue-green eyes.

“I’ve got — ” he took a deep breath and let out a long groan “ — so many damn questions.” Another big breath, his chest rising and falling as he flinched. He sounded exasperated, his tone dark and rough, “What the hell’s … goin’ on?”

His voice was much stronger than it had been before, having a heavily accented western drawl to it. It was deep, heavy … how in the world could any man possess such a voice?

You shook yourself away from that thought, focusing on what he’d just said. “Can you remember anything about what happened?” You asked, reaching out and lifting up the thick blanket to examine the old bandages.

Arthur just shook his head in response, “No … can’t say I can.”

After he’d given you his name the other day, he’d passed out soon afterwards from the drug you’d given him. You’d gone to work immediately on examining, cleaning and dressing the wounds on the rest of his body. Since then you’d changed the dressing a couple more times, and now it looked like it was time to do it again.

“Where am I?” He asked you as you stood up to walk into the kitchen and wash your hands in the sink.

The drugs that were being given to him were messing with his memory, but that was to be expected. The anesthetic on top of the herbs you had been treating him with for the past few days were having side effects on him, temporarily clouding up his mind. The medicinal properties tended to have strange and similar side effects on animals you’d treated in the past, making them behave rather strangely.

Treating a human … it was almost foreign.

“You’re in our cabin,” you answered him, “just north of Roanoke Ridge, we live right above Cerberus Falls, near Brandywine.” Once you finished drying your hands with a fresh cloth, you went over to your office, gathering fresh medicinal supplies from your desk.

“How’d I get here?” He asked, taking another deep breath. He let out a hard cough, and you looked over your shoulder to see that he was trying to sit up.

Rushing back over to him, you quickly set the supplies on the side table and placed a hand on his chest, gently pushing to urge him to lay back down.

“You need to lie still.” Keeping you tone soft in an effort to soothe him, you wondered about his last question. Had he forgotten everything from the other night? “We heard gunshots and my brother Austin and I found you on a mountain near O’Creagh’s Run.” You urged him down with your hand until he was lying flat on his back again. “We brought you back here, and I’ve been taking care of you for the past few days — but you have a long while until you’re well enough to get back on your feet.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, as if he were trying to remember the events of that night. “You found me on the mountain?” He asked, his voice graveled.

“Yes.” You took the blanket off of him and set it on the floor, getting to work on taking off the old bandages. “You were extremely weak, you were bleeding and having trouble breathing.”

Those last words made his eyes widen, as if he was suddenly frightened by something.

Instantly Arthur tried to sit up again, his upper body shooting up and startling you, but you quickly overcame your surprise and tried to get him to settle down. Placing a firm hand on his chest, you pushed him back down, trying to get him to relax. “Please, Arthur, I need you to stay still.”

“Get away from me, woman,” he snapped, struggling against your hold. You weren’t all that strong to hold such a large man down, but the state he was in helped in your favor.

You glared at him then, “My name is Y/N, not ‘woman.’ Everything is alright, Arthur, please calm down.” You were trying to keep your voice low in an effort to calm his nerves, but it wasn’t helping. “Please, you really need to rest.”

“No,” he said firmly, almost sounding fearful as he let out another cough. “I got TB, I don’t want … you gettin’ sick cuz of me.”

His unexpected words touched you, almost taking you aback. Here he was, hurt and bare, and he was trying to put you before his own health … even though he barely knew you.

“Arthur, it’s alright,” you said softly, “You won’t get me sick. I got treatments to prevent that from happening.”

Arthur suddenly stopped his struggles, his head turning back to you with a mixed look of surprise and confusion plastered on his face. “Treatments?” He asked, his voice matching the expression he made.

You nodded, “Yes, I’m a doctor that specializes in experimenting on natural remedies for diseases. Tuberculosis is one of them.” You began washing his wounds and redressing them with fresh bandages. Some of them were still more raw than others, but they were already looking much better than they’d had before.

As you worked on securing the bandages, you felt Arthur’s gaze on you. You tried to ignore the stare at first as you finished patching him up, but it went on for so long you couldn’t help but start to feel a little uncomfortable.

“What?” You asked, finally allowing yourself to look up at him as you finished the last patch.

“You … you treat TB?”

You hesitated for a moment, then nodded, “Yes, kind of … though this is my first time doing it on a human.”

His squinted at that, so you were quick to jump in and explain. “It’s the same process. Most species’ lungs are similar to each other,” You started rambling, talking faster and faster as you pretended to be busy with checking his bandages, even though they were already secure. All the while you could feel his scrutinizing gaze on you. “You were about to die, so I didn’t see the harm in trying to treat you — I gave you different doses based on your size —and I … and I needed to flush your lungs out with a special medicine — I just had to use slightly different doses — I mean, herbs because different species tolerate different herbs and I thought that maybe with a human I could — ”

You heard a deep chuckle and looked back up at his face.

He was smiling at you.

That grin had you stop in your tracks and lose all your train of thought right then and there. It was like nothing you’d ever seen on any man, causing a shiver to go through your body.

Arthur took another deep breath, and spoke his next words softly, “So you been treatin’ my TB, huh?”

After a few heartbeats passed, you nodded.

Arthur’s grin widened, but then quickly faded as a thought seemed to occur to him. “How the hell — ” his chest rose and fell, “ — d’you know all this?”

You lifted a brow at his question, “What do you mean?”

“The herbs … natural remedies, as you put them — ” His body convulsed as another coughing fit took over, and he turned his head away until it passed. He didn’t need to since you took some medicine yourself to fight off any possible bacteria, but you appreciated his kind thought. He turned to face you again, “How d’you know … how to treat somethin’ like this?”

You grabbed the hem of the wool blanket and pulled it over his body, tucking it just over his shoulders. “My father, well he was a busy man, but he had a lot of love for animals. My mother was a doctor like me, though I swear to you you’d think she was an herbalist around the clock. Her passion in life had always been about plants and researching their different properties. What they could do, what benefits they gave … ” You laughed then, thinking back, “She would always come to me excited whenever she found something new that a plant or flower could do.”

You thought back to your childhood, unable to hold back a smile as you recalled the memories.

Having grown up on a plantation with a large farm that your grandmother had owned, you knew a lot about all kinds of animals thanks to your parents. Your father had taught you all about the animals and how to take care of them, while your mother would always teach you about all the plants she’d found and what she’d discovered about them.

Your parents had taken in so many sick animals, both wild and owned, caring for and nursing them all back to health. They’d found great joy in aiding the creatures, and you enjoyed learning what you could from them.

Life had been so simple back then.

But … all of that had come to a crashing end when a gang of outlaws had raided your home in the dark of night.

You instantly lost your smile then, the terrible memory flooding your mind against your will.

Both you and your mother had been in the kitchen discussing chores. Your father had been out of town on business with a client, and your brother had been riding out in the country with his horse.

Several of the plantation’s guards had been killed before anyone was able to send out a warning, and the outlaws had managed to break into the house, tying up you and your mother as others ransacked every room as if they’d been searching for something. They’d interrogated and beaten her, only to kill her with a shotgun right in front of you.

If it hadn’t been for the lawmen charging in when they had, you had no doubt the outlaws would’ve done away with you as well. They’d gotten away, though, riding away on their horses and disappearing into the thick forest across the fields.

You felt a tear roll down your cheek. Your brother and father had been absolutely broken at the news when they’d come back. To hear that the woman you all loved more than anything in the world was now gone, and the outlaws responsible for her death had never been found.

No one had ever found out what they’d been after, and since that night, you and your family had never been the same.

And of course, having lost your mother due to a gang, you’d grown up despising outlaws with every ounce of your being to this day. They were monsters. Killers. Thieves. All they ever did was hurt and destroy innocent people and their families.

Your mother had found a passion in saving lives.

You wanted to do the same, and so you’d dedicated your life into carrying on her work.

Gathering yourself so as not to get carried away with your emotions, you took a deep breath and forced a smile, looking back down at the man lying on your couch. “They taught me everything I know, but my mother was the one who encouraged me the most.”

Arthur looked at you for what felt like ages, the silence stretching between the two of you as those blue eyes of his seemed to study you for the longest time. Finally, he took a deep breath, “Your mother sounds … like she were an amazin’ woman,” he said softly.

You didn’t know why, but this man’s deep western drawl and what he said comforted you somewhat.

Nodding, you replied softly. “She was.”

He gave you a gentle smile as if to try and comfort you, “I’m real sorry, Y/N.” His soft tone seemed to melt your nerves, helping you to relax a small bit.

You returned his smile with another one of your own. “Well, she’s in a much better place now.”

“I’ve no doubt,” Arthur replied.

There was another long moment of silence, and it seemed to go on forever, the clock on the wall making the only sound in the quiet room.

Shaking yourself mentally, you stood up quickly and cleared your throat, quickly changing the subject to switch up the mood, “It’s time for another dose.”

Arthur raised those dark brows of his, “What’re you talkin’ ’about?” He asked, your sudden change seeming to have surprised him.

Walking over to your desk again, you grabbed the same vial and an empty syringe, a bottle of alcohol along with cotton and gauze, and finally a spoon and a pot of honey. While you gathered everything you explained it all to him. “You need another shot to help treat your Tuberculosis, Arthur. All of this is supposed to help kill off the bacteria that’s still left in your body. Once that’s done, your lungs and any other effected areas you have can finally start healing.”

“How d’you know all these things?” He asked.

“I had a few farm animals and a couple horses while I was growing up that were struck with the disease,” you answered, “both my mother and father showed me how to do the treatments on some of them.” You came back over with everything, kneeling back down by his side.

“Of course, horse lungs are much bigger and more resistant to Tuberculosis, but that made it easier for us to examine them so we could treat it. Unlike the smaller animals. They were a bit more difficult,” you stated. “My mother made a journal at that time to take notes whenever she would perform these treatments. All the research that she and Pa ever did she wrote down in that journal. It’s now in my desk, and over the last few years I’ve come across other animals struck with all kinds of diseases, including Tuberculosis. Her journal has guided me through all of my treatments.” You met his eyes then, “I haven’t failed in curing one yet.” You added lightly, trying to give off a bit of humor to lighten the mood.

But the effort was in vain, as Arthur just looked at you, almost as if he were questioning the situation. “And I’m the first … human you’ve ever treated?” He asked skeptically, almost sounding concerned.

“Well,” you said with a bit of annoyance from the doubt in his voice, “You were about to die so I guess there was no harm in me tryin’, was there?”

That succeeded in making him let out a sudden burst of laughter, which Arthur regretted instantly. You flinched in sympathy as the pain ran through his entire body. “Son of a bitch,” he swore through gritted teeth, cursing more underneath his breath.

You gave him a sympathetic smile as you prepped the syringe, drawing the liquid from the vial into the barrel.

“What the hell’s that?” He asked you as he stared at the vial of medicine as if it were alien to him.

You almost wanted to laugh at the expression he was making as he stared at the syringe with a strange look. “This is a special remedy that I made myself to treat TB. I need to insert it into you arm now, if that’s alright with you?”

Arthur didn’t answer as he just stared at the needle for the longest time.

“Arthur?”

He seemed to be thinking about whether or not he should trust you.

After several more seconds passed, he finally gave you a small nod, “Sure.”

The way he said that single word sent a shiver down your spine.

Letting out a small sigh, you smiled at him. The fact that he was trusting you like this, especially with putting something he didn’t know of in his own body, it meant a lot more to you than you thought it would.

You gripped his wrist gently and turned his arm until it was facing palm-up. “Alright, Arthur, this is going to sting a bit,” you said as you began prepping his inner arm, rubbing the alcohol into his skin to disinfect the area.

Arthur didn’t say a word, only giving you a small nod.

Once you found the large vein, you brought the point of the sharp needle to his skin and pushed it in. His whole body jerked, and he let out a deep grunt of pain, his eyes squeezing shut as his lips pulled back over his teeth in a hiss.

“Almost done,” you said as you pushed down slowly on the plunger, letting the medicine make its way into his body. After it was empty, you took the needle out and patched him up immediately. “Now don’t go messin’ with that, Arthur,” you said in a firm voice, gesturing at the bandage, “It needs to sit there for a few hours so don’t you go makin’ a mess.”

Arthur chuckled at your authoritative voice. “Yes, ma’am,” he replied teasingly, making you blush.

You couldn’t help but let out a small giggle from his playfulness as you put the syringe away. “Alright, now for the fun part,” you teased back as you picked up the honey pot. Lifting the lid and dipping the spoon in, you scooped out a heaping dose of honey and held it out to him, close to his lips.

“And what’s this for?” He asked, not opening his mouth to take the honey even though he knew you expected him to.

You nearly wanted to roll your eyes as you smiled again. “It’s honey.”

Arthur shot you an annoyed look, “I know it’s honey, dammit.” He snapped, “But why ... are you givin’ it to me?”

“It’s a natural remedy to help kill off Tuberculosis bacteria,” you replied impatiently, pressing the spoon to his lips in an effort to get him to open them. “Now open up, here comes the choo-choo train — choo-chooooo!” You made train noises as you moved the spoon around in the air like a train coming down the tracks. Destination: Arthur’s mouth.

At that very moment the look in those blue-green eyes of his would’ve set a forest on fire. “I ain’t a little kid, missy,” he growled at you, that deep western drawl of his sounding dark and threatening.

“Oh, I know,” you replied, completely unphased by the threat, “But where’s the fun in treatin’ you like an adult if you’re not gonna act like one?”

He growled at that, and with great reluctance parted his lips and accepted the honey as you placed it in his mouth. You waited for him to swallow. Once he did, you took out another spoonful and held it out to him. He took five more more after that, each bite either more or less stubborn than the last. When he was done, you placed the lid back on the honey pot and placed it on the side table.

“All finished!” You said to him cheerfully.

Arthur just snorted at you and looked up at the ceiling. “And how long you been ... torturin’ me like this, Y/N?” He asked in an accusing but playful tone.

“A few days now, though it hasn’t been easy. Had to feed that honey to you through a tube to make sure it made its way to your stomach.”

He grimaced at that, looking disgusted. “Really wish you hadn’t ... told me that part, ma’am.”

You gave him another sympathetic smile, “Well, Arthur, I don’t think we need to do that anymore now that you’re back with us again.”

He chuckled softly at that, the low laughter rumbling deep in his chest, “Let’s hope not, … honey.”

— To Be Continued

[kiliinstinct]

In The Garden - Nalu One Shot

Has a lot of things implied here, but was inspired by the sads I felt when re-watching ‘Angel Beats’ yesterday.  Note, I said inspired, but not based off of.

Anyway, consider this pseudo tragedy and pseudo angst. It’s all based on how you technically view it yourself, so I’m not sure how to explain it. oops!

--- Tag List ---

@pbfanart @yuldragneel @bearpluscat @millennial-star-gazer @caandleworks @kaycha1989  @furidojasutin @eragonsoul @just-another-dream-girl  @whatdidyasayiamdaydreaming @hanahathefluffydragon @softscream @dlshieldss @ctay21 @acidrain1698  @lovelyluce @clockworkassassino @celestialwolf24  @unwei @jem-hamster-chan @melissa827  @meilynalu  @littlejinxed @moonlitstargazerforever @trollka21

---

The air was crisp and clear. 

It was the purest atmosphere he had breathed. The wind blew gently through his hair, cooled his sore limbs and wafted the scent of grass and wildflowers through his nose. Water trickled nearby, tickling his ears with the sound. He couldn’t see it, the thick foliage circling him blocked his sight, but that didn’t bother him. Everything from the blue of the sky to the green of the ground served one purpose: to calm and relax him. 

He knew nothing before his eyes had opened. No beginning and no end. There was just his own, singular existence. Time held no meaning. His body moved on instinct, bare feet scraping along the blades of grass, toes curling in the dirt which each step. The man who had never existed until that moment, took his time exploring the garden. Hummingbirds and bees flew by, drinking the nectar from sweet honeysuckle or rested upon the flowers his arms brushed by. 

This was heaven. Though he had no clue what heaven was. This peace and comfort was his only way to describe it. He enjoyed it, following the sound of water, hoping to find its source. With each step his speed increased, noticing the ground beneath him was inclining. Soon, the man rushed through the thickets at a full run, unaware that his lack of fatigue was not normal, and that the outer edges of the garden dropped off at the end the higher up he moved. 

There was no knowledge before he opened his eyes. Therefore, it was normal. Further and further he ran until he broke free of the thicket, barely noticing the way the twigs and leaves brushed along bare skin. Eyes widened at the open path before him,  leading up to the top of quiet hill. One, lone tree stood upon it, looking over the small garden like a silent watcher. 

One, dead tree- and a bench, occupied by a figure, gazing out into the distance. Golden hair shined under the bright sun and their head turned from the crunch of his steps. A woman with honey-brown eyes, wide and perplexed. She stood when he advanced, one arm grasping the other as she sucked her bottom lip. A nervous tick he noticed. 

Adorable. 

“Who are you?” She asked, voice a tiny whisper. “Why did you come here?”

At first he worried he wouldn’t know how to respond, but he swiped his tongue across his lips and broke the dam of silence to answer.  “I don’t know. I’m just here. What about you?”

She sucked in a breath, unsatisfied. Looking back towards the expanse of endless plains and drop offs, the woman who had always been there, shut her eyes. “I thought I was the only one. It feels like an eternity since I opened my eyes.”

He didn’t know the depths of eternity, but her empty tone filled him with guilt. “Sorry I’m late, then.”

“You should be. It’s rude to keep a lady waiting.”

A chuckle passed between them and he moved to join her at the bench. The stone looked old and cracked. It sent a chill through his skin. When she resumed her position, now next to him, she gave no reaction, as if the cold had soaked within her ages ago.  He noticed small things about her: a shine to her eyes, the soft pink of her lips, the way the wind blew strands of gold across her face as she habitually attempted to blow them back. 

They were new and familiar all at once. He resisted the urge to reach out and brush his fingers through the silken strands. A spark inside his mind said this was not the first time he had done so, but that couldn’t be right. He hadn’t existed until today. 

“Will others come?” He asked after another eternity. She shrugged, casting her gaze to him with the barest hint of a smile. 

“I don’t think so.” She said. “I feel this is our place.”

A strange declaration for two people who had never met before, but after another second of forever, he realized it was true. This was their place. It would always be their place.  There was nothing around to prove it, just a feeling of absolute certainty that settled in his gut. 

He noticed light freckling on her shoulders,  finding them like secret constellations and he grinned.  “You have stars on your shoulders.” It was a weird thing to say, but fitting. She was weird. She had always been weird. It was natural to say weird things with her.  Her laugh came out like bells ringing from loud and clanging to low and airy. 

“And you have,” She began, reaching out to tap his cheeks, “two. adorable. dimples.”

He recoiled and frowned in feigned offense, “I am not adorable!”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Her eyes gleamed in mischief, “I forgot, you’d rather be handsome!”

He balked, leaning away to feign a pensive expression. Handsome? Is that what he’d rather be called? The word ‘badass’ shot through his mind and he grinned, “Hmm, nah, but close enough!”

Her giggles uplifted him giving the sensation of floating on air. He could hear her laugh forever.  Their laughter conjoined together as natural as the world around them. In that quiet peace, their chuckles slowly died as he nudged her shoulder with his. As normal as breathing, as existing. It took only a few seconds more for him to realize they were strangers acting like old friends. No, friends wasn’t the right word…

“Are you sure you don’t know me?” Her confusion matched his own. Considering his question, she licked her lips, one hand moving to brush strands of pale-red hair from his face. Their movements felt like an age old tale, unrecognized but subconsciously remembered. 

“No,” She said, with a sigh, “I’m sure I’ve never seen you until now, but I feel like..”

He finished with a light breath, “... like we’ve known each other forever.”

“- but that’s impossible,” She waved him  off, cheeks paling. It made no sense. There was no possibility for two people who knew nothing of themselves or each other to be this connected. Was there? Her head bowed in thought, considering his agreement, fingers fidgeting as she tangled them together. “... it… yeah, it really feels that way, though…”

He took her hand then. The urge was not ignored. Fingers touched familiar, slender digits, entwined and clasping tightly to one another. Their silence became thick and brooding. It fell between them like a fog, erasing the beautiful environment around them. There was just him and her, and the connection felt between them. He realized he loved her hand in his. The grip was strong despite its small size; they grounded him and gave him a sense of peace inside his soul he hadn’t realized he was missing. 

Empty pieces of himself clicked together as his eyes memorized her. Passed her freckled shoulders, down the swell of her breasts and smooth expanse of her stomach, down to her thighs and back up again, but stopped, zipping back to her hip. He had missed it at first, but the telltale sign of a scar puckered and discolored the skin on her stomach. His mouth ran dry.

“Is.. that ...new?” He croaked, finding it difficult to speak. She followed his gaze and flinched, withdrawing her hand to move away. Like a broken animal she curled into herself, gnawing her lip rapidly. 

“Yes,” She said, eyes glancing this way and that, “I mean no, I don’t think it was there earlier, but it… no.. It’s.. “ Realization shone in her eyes, “it’s why I’m here.”

With each shift back, he followed, moving slow as shaking fingers reached out to pull her back. He clicked his tongue, voice dropping to a smooth baritone. After little resistance, she relented, sinking into his arms so he could examine the scar. Her back rested against him and hands moved to trail along the skin from beginning to end. He frowned. 

“There’s more.” He whispered, finding older scars, more faded and difficult to see. One on her right, another on her arm, the faintest trace against her neck. Place to place, location to location and each new revelation made his lungs tighten, squeezing the air from him and he struggled to stay calm. Who? Who had hurt her like this?

How many times? How many lives?

It was like the light of the sun flashed into his own mind and he gasped. “Lucy, how many times have you died?” He did not stop to question the sudden use of her name, for that is what she was called, time and time again, in one form after another. This was Lucy and her body mapped out her history like a book. 

She breathed in shaky gasps, memories of times that didn’t exist flashed through her eyes and she twisted her torso, fingers trembling as they traced the planes of muscles on his chest- the touch electrified his nerves with each movement. Up to his neck and cheek, back down to the sharp concave caused by his hip bones. They slowed to a stop, centimeters from his skin, not touching, but just enough for him to feel and burn and yearn. He tore his gaze from Lucy’s scars to watch her hand, belatedly realizing she had paused across his own angry, protruding scar. 

“How many for you?” She asked when her eyes met his, bottom lip trembling. “I can’t count the times, Natsu.”

Natsu. 

He felt a punch to his gut the way the name tore the air from him and stabbed his mind like a hundred daggers all at once. A shriek of his name, faded and lost, laughter, love, friends and family- a jolt of memories shot down his spine. All his, but not. 

He was Natsu, but he wasn’t. Just as she was Lucy, but she wasn’t. He struggled to regain himself, realization crushing through his soul. He took Lucy closer into his embrace, nose burrowing into the curves of her neck and shoulder. He breathed her in while her hands sought desperately for purchase in his hair, bodies meshing close together in an attempt to become one, solitary figure. 

He knew her. He knew her like the taste of his own tongue, the weight of his own limbs. Like breathing, she was every part of him as he was of her. They were separate and not and his memories of a time before he existed struck him until tears formed in his eyes. 

“I couldn’t save you.” Natsu exhaled sharply, voice thick and rough, growling a pain he hadn’t felt until that moment, but had felt a dozen or more times before. 

“No.” She disagreed, voice muffled. “We were unlucky.”

He couldn’t believe it, “Bad luck every time, Lucy?” His grip tightened while soft lips pressed against the back of his ear followed by consoling whispers. 

“Not every time,” She assured him,  voice cracking from the multitude of lives pressing against them, “we never know what will happen in the next one.”

“The next one?” It hadn’t occurred to him that there was more beyond this plain. Existence and time felt elusive. In their current present, Natsu saw no future, only the woman in his arms and the truth. They were together. They were always together. Over and over again and this was their haven. 

Lucy settled against him, sighing as they enjoyed the heat of their own bodies and the wind gently caressed them. The tree blossomed with pink, blue, purple and green petals, thriving with new life over their heads. Natsu could see now, the distance between their garden and many others. Some were connected through small arches and bridges, some were too distant to make out. Everyone of them floated in a large expanse, separated from each other. He didn’t know what lie beyond his own, but he knew its thriving life and gentle breezes was something created between two souls in harmony. 

“When does the next one come?” He asked while thumbing her scar again. Natsu didn’t like it. The prospect of her cycling through another life, earning more scars to her skin. Scars meant she lived and learned, but suffered. 

Lucy didn’t answer. Her silence grew and her hands moved to cup his cheek, tilting his face towards the base of their little hil to the stream of water, cutting off the end of their little world. It weaved through the area and disappeared into the thick brambles of the garden Natsu had traversed through. He had forgotten his failed search for it until then.  Dark gaze narrowed as he looked at its crystalline surface, watched the pebbles sparkle beneath the clear liquid, finally noticing the dirt path, faded as if it were not fully there, just on the stream’s outer bank. 

It was translucent. As if one wrong step would send you falling through it.  “There?”  He asked. They could walk through and be no more?

“Only if you’re impatient.” Lucy moved away, leaving a trace of cold air against his skin from the loss. “You can go at any time, this is just….. A place to rest.”  

Her voice trailed off as he watched her. It felt as if he had heard these words before like a mantra. How many times would they forget? What made them remember? Was it always him asking the questions?  While Lucy marveled at her own knowledge coming to light, Natsu struggled with a need to never leave. 

Why suffer if they could stay? He remembered the feel of her in his arms, more perfect than the garden around them. He could drink in her sweetness, become one with her and never leave. They could enjoy the sunlight and brilliant scents and sights for an eternity or more without pain or fear.  The distance Lucy put between them was excruciating, a second feeling like forever, as if he were dying of thirst. He could be happy here, he knew this, and his hands reached for her arm, intending to draw her close once more. 

Her hand firmly pushed his hand away and he stared, “I’m sorry, Natsu,”She whispered, hair slipping over her shoulders to form a curtain across her face. “I’m so sorry, but it’s best you don’t touch me anymore.”

Natsu balked, “But that’s… that’s…! Lucy we’ve got forever here! What’s wrong?!” Even in a sadness he could name for centuries, she was beautiful. Her hair continued its light glow as shoulders shook from tears he could not see. He attempted to gently touch her shoulder, but the result was the same, “Lucy, tell me what’s going on?”  Why so sudden? 

“I’ve been waiting for you.” She croaked, wiping her eyes to peek at him through her tresses. “I’ve been patient for so.. So very long…!”

His stomach twisted into knots, “I didn’t mean to make ya’ wait Lucy, I just-” Just what? What had he been doing? Fighting? Living?  His memories told him they were joined, but what happened when one died without the other? Why couldn’t he remember after? “I can make it up to ya since I’m here now, you don’t have to be alone anymore-”

Natsu was silenced by Lucy lifting her hand between them, poised in the air for him to see- translucent like the path below them. “What-”

“I waited as long as I could.” The simple truth held between them, but her tears were not lonely tears of anger. They were content, a sad acceptance, “- but this place cannot hold us here forever. It’s a miracle you made it before I had to leave.”

Lucy was fading. The transparency in her hand trailed up her arm like spiderwebs, criss-crossing further and further up until pieces of her faded away,. “No, but I just, I just got here, you can’t leave yet!” Natsu wouldn’t accept it. Couldn’t accept it. Ignoring her pleas, he pulled her in, fingers moving along her arm, as if attempting to use friction to put her back together, “I haven’t seen ya in so long after you... after you- Lucy!”

She caved, hands grasped his face to hold him still and her lips fit against his to say everything they hadn’t the time to say. Lucy poured her emotions, her loneliness, her sadness, her peaceful and calm existence, and every memory coiled between them into her kiss. Natsu tasted tears and didn’t know if they were hers or his. He clung to her, hands pressed against the small of her back, trying to will her to stay with him forever. 

Her teeth tugged and pulled, he responded and drank everything she was willing to give, but the moment ended far too soon. Pulling back with swollen lips and tear stained cheeks, his other half smiled, a hand he could no longer see rested against his heart. 

“Come find me.” She said. “We have many more adventures to live before we’re done and everyone is waiting.”

Natsu’s arms fell to his side. Lucy was gone. 

In his own personal garden his soul came into being. In her own personal garden her soul met his. Together they lived on and on and on, building their Garden into a paradise they would never have to leave. The sky was still clear, but the tree above his head wilted once more. They weren’t done yet. 

He shook at the loss, cried into his hands and stained the ground with his tears. It felt like death, but then there was light, the little pathway shone before him, quietly waiting. He didn’t have to wait. Natsu didn’t have to stay.  As he mourned the loss of her, he stood firm and glanced out to the many other gardens in the realm. 

They needed a bridge, he decided. To visit the friends they made on the other side. Natsu would work on that next. Smiling through his tears, he walked towards the path with a spring in his step. 

When he crossed the stream,  birds chirped and quiet peace continued on, everything stayed as it always had, but his steps crunched in the dirt until there was none and right as he stepped off the edge-

He closed his eyes and knew nothing once more.

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Stark Spangled Banner Ch36: I Bid You Farewell And Good Luck, Morons!

Intro: Thor wakes up on a strange ship, surrounded by even stranger people, a talking tree and a rabbit. Meanwhile, back on Earth, the fight to save Vision is won and the group make their way back to the compound to understand what exactly it is that they’re facing. 

But there’s no sign of Tony, and the more they heard, the more they start to wonder if this is a battle they stand any chance of winning. 

Warnings:Bad Language words.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist 

This is a bit of a longer update than normal, but I wanted to explore IW using all 3 of the perspectives that were shown, for no reason other than I had favourite bits in them all! And I LOVE writing for Thor and Tony!

As always tags are open and I’m taking suggestions for that lovely 5 year gap post snap/pre time Heist so if you have any ideas or wants, hit me up!

 “It’s like a pirate had a baby with an angel…”

Thor wasn’t dead. But he felt like it. Every inch of his body ached and when he was jerked back to consciousness for a moment, just one split moment, he thought he saw Little Stark. Only it wasn’t her. The woman had dark hair, yes, but as he focussed he realised she looked nothing like the woman he loved dearly as a sister. This woman had huge eyes and antenna dangling from her forehead. And, whilst he knew it had been a while since he had seen his friend, she wouldn't have changed that much.

Finding his feet he looked around, chest heaving, at the band of people stood in front of him; A woman with green skin and red hair, a man with grey/blue skin, bald head, and red lines all over his body, a tree creature- a Flora Colossus he thought- which was off to the side draped over a chair, some kind of furry, animal thing- a rabbit maybe- and finally a man who appeared to be a normal, human.

They had offered him soup, and then when he had explained about Thanos the green skinned lady had told Thor what the Titan wanted the stones for. Which she knew, because she his  daughter.

"Families can be tough," Thor said, placing a hand on her shoulder, "Before my father died, he told me that I had a half-sister, that he imprisoned in Hell. Then she returned home, stabbed me in the eye so, I had to kill her." he said, shrugging "That's life though isn't it I guess? Round and round, but I feel your pain."

The human, Peter Quill pushed his way between Gamora and Thor, and looked at her "I feel your pain, as well, because, I mean it's not a competition, but I've been through a lot. My father killed my mother, and then I had to kill my father. And that was hard. Probably even harder than having to kill a sister. Plus, I, came out with both of my eyes."

Thor wasn’t paying attention. The man was clearly a moron, and he’d just noticed he had bent the spoon in the bowl of soup and was having a flashback to the time he had tried to bend the Captain’s shield. Little Stark had laughed so much at how annoyed he had gotten when he failed that she had cried. And then, to make it worse, a few days later the Captain had managed to move Mjolnir. Just a fraction, but it moved. No one had seen it, bar Little Stark of course, but there was something there, Thor was sure. Steve Rogers was a man worthy of a lot of things, but his hammer was complicated. You have to prove it. That had been explained to him the day it had been given to him. Of course, he hadn’t realised then that Eitri had actually made it for Hela first.

Eitri…

"I need a hammer, not a spoon." Thor mumbled, as the idea took hold and he looked at the pod at the back of the ship. "How do I open this thing?" he began pressing random buttons on the screen next to the door. “Is there some sort of a four-digit code? Maybe a birth date or something?"

"What are you doing?" Rocket asked.

"Taking your pod." Thor replied nonchalantly.

And then there was a row in which the moron called Quill tried to imitate Thor’s deeper voice telling him he could not take the pod, but Thor was going to take the pod anyway because he was the God of Thunder after all, and then the lady Gamora cut them off quite rightly directing the focus back to Thanos by stating they needed to find out where he was going next. But Thor had already thought of that.

"Knowhere," he answered as he brushed past Quill and over to the refrigerator he had seen Gamora get his soup from.

"He must be going somewhere," Mantis argued innocently.

"No," Quill shook his head and Thor noted his stupid voice was back to normal, "Knowhere? It's a place. We've been there. It sucks. Excuse me, that's our food." he said, suddenly noticing what Thor was doing.

"Not anymore," Thor shrugged, stuffing it into a backpack he found.

"Thor," Gamora cut across the pair of them again "Why would he go to Knowhere?"

"Because for years, the Reality Stone has been safely stored there with a man called the Collector." Thor said

"If it's with the Collector, then it's not safe.” Quill snorted. “Only an idiot would give that man a stone."

"Or a genius." Thor shrugged.

"How do you know he's not going for one of the other stones?" Gamora asked.

"There's six stones out there." Thor began to explain, "Thanos already has the Power Stone because he stole it, last week, when he decimated Xandar.”

He didn’t missed the shocked and horrified look the group shared with one another.

“He stole the Space Stone from me, when he destroyed my ship and slaughtered half my people. The Time and Mind Stones, are safe on Earth. They're with the Avengers." Thor stated.

"The Avengers?" Quill asked.

"They're Earth's Mightiest Heroes."

"Like Kevin Bacon?" Mantis called out.

"Errr he may be on the team now, I don't know.” Thor shrugged, having no idea who the man named after a breakfast meat was. “I haven’t been there in a while. And as for the Soul Stone, well no one's ever seen that. No one even knows where it is. Therefore, Thanos can't get it. Therefore, he's going to Knowhere. Hence, he'll be getting the Reality Stone. You're welcome."

"Then we have to go to Knowhere, now." Gamora said

"Wrong. Where we have to go is Nidavellir." Thor said picking up the backpack.

"That's a made up word," Drax, the blue man countered.

"All words are made up." Thor smiled, slinging the backpack onto his back.

"Nidavellir is real?" the animal called Rocket’s eyes grew wide and he jumped up onto the table and looked at Thor "Seriously? I mean, that place is a legend. They make the most powerful, horrific weapons to ever torment the Universe. I would very much like to go there, please."

"The rabbit is correct." Thor grinned at Rocket's excitement, "And clearly the smartest among you. Only Eitri the Dwarf can make me the weapon I need. I assume you're the captain, Sir?"

Rocket grinned and nodded, "You're very perceptive."

"You seem like a noble leader. Will you join me on my quest to Nidavellir?"

"Let me just ask the captain. Oh, wait a second, it's me!”  Rocket grinned. “Yeah, I'll go."

"Wonderful." Thor beamed.

"Uh except that I'm the captain," Quill chipped in

"Quiet!" Thor said, now beyond bored of the moron.

"And that's my backpack," Quill continued pointing to the bag that Thor was stealing.

"Quill, sit down," Rocket said, tapping at the pad and keying in the digits to open the pod.

"Look, this is my ship. And I'm not going to - wait, what kind of weapon are we talking about here?" Quill looked round.

"The Thanos-killing kind." Thor smiled. Boy, was it going to be a big, fucking weapon...

"Don't you think that we should all have a weapon like that?" Quill frowned.

"You lack the strength to wield them. Your bodies would crumble as you minds collapsed into the madness." Thor said.

"Is it weird that I wanna do it even more now?" Rocket asked.

"Erm, a little bit weird. Yeah." Thor looked down at him, frowning.

“If we don't go to Knowhere and Thanos retrieves another stone, he'll be too powerful to stop." Gamora said, stepping forward.

"He already is." Thor shrugged.

"Look, I got it figured out," Rocket interrupted, looking at Gamora. "We got two ships, and a large assortment of morons.  Me and Groot will go with the Pirate Angel here, and the morons will go to Knowhere to try and stop Thanos. Cool? Cool."

"So cool." Thor said with a smile before he climbed into the pod.

"For the record…” Quill said leaning down to Rocket “ I know that you're only going with them because it's where Thanos isn't."

"You know, you really shouldn't talk that way to your captain, Quill.” Rocket said, walking backwards and gesturing outwards with his arms. “Come on, Groot. Put that game down. You'll rot your brain,"

As Rocket sat down Thor nodded out of the pod “I bid you farewell and good luck, morons. Bye."

******

It wasn’t hard for the team to track Wanda, her red power flashing bright against the dark sky over Edinburgh City Centre, and as the jet followed her movements, the four friends saw her spiralling through the sky with Vision and crashing through the train station, just as Sam put the jet on the ground.

Within seconds the Ex-Avengers were sprinting off the jet.  

“Katie, Nat, take the side!” Steve yelled, as he vaulted over the railings at the edge of the road running down onto the bottom half of the concrete which led to the station. “Sam, up high,and remember protect Vision at all costs!”

“Got em.” Sam spoke over the coms “Platform seven, near the café.” 

Steve vaulted over another set of barriers, the station now deserted thanks to the evacuation taking place by the local police. As he ran onto one of the walkways he was just in time to see two of the aliens crash through the station roof. Weighing up his options, he realised it was going to be quicker for him to run down the platform he was over and jump across the lines to help. He swung his legs over the railings and landed easily, looking up. Across from him he could see Natasha and Katie emerging to the right, as Wanda stood and moved protectively in front of Vision, building power in her hands. An express train whizzed past him and he stood still, waiting and it wasn’t long before the taller, blue looking woman spotted him, and she launched her spear over the platform. Steve easily snapped his left shoulder back whilst leaning over his body with his right, catching the staff in his hand.

“Heads up.” Sam muttered, and as Wanda and Vision turned to see Steve step out from the shadows, fury lining his face, Sam swooped in and kicked one of the aliens across the platform and through a closed café’s security gate, causing tables and chairs to go flying, before he spun and started to fire on the other alien.

Steve launched the weapon he had caught across the tracks where Natasha caught it and stabbed the second assailant in the gut as Katie moved into to head off the other who was stalking back towards them. The weapon Natasha had been using flew back into the alien’s hands and Katie ducked as she swung, jabbing her in the back of the leg with an electric powered escrima stick. The alien let out a yell, stumbled slightly and Steve cleared the platform in a leap, rolling and scooping up the second assailant’s staff from the floor, holding it up to block the blow that the creatured aimed at Katie. He grit his teeth, planting his legs to absorb the power of the hit, as Katie rolled to the side, jumped up and the two of them began to fight the alien, joined shortly by Natasha who had stabbed the other one in the gut, taking him out of the fight. Steve had to admit, the woman (if you could call her that) was a force to be reckoned with, but the three of them were just about getting the upper hand when they heard Sam yell.

“DUCK!”

The three of them did so and Sam flew in hard, kicking the woman backwards where she fell and scuttled over to her fallen friend. Sam landed next to Katie, drawing both his submachine pistols on the couple.

“Get up” she instructed to her fallen partner, her voice was deep.

“I can't” his gravelly, robotic voice replied.

“We don't wanna kill you.” Natasha spoke coolly “But we will”.

“You’ll never get the chance again.” The female levelled them, with a cold glare and with that a beam shot down from the hole in the station roof and the two were transported upwards. The weapon Steve was holding also shot out of his hand. He frowned in surprise for a moment, looking at his hand then upwards as the beam of light disappeared and the ship sped off.

“Can you stand?” Sam asked Vision as Katie replaced her sticks and walked towards Wanda and the android. When Vision shook his head, Sam moved forward to help him up.

Supported by Wanda and Sam, Vision looked over at Steve, Natasha and Katie, electricity shimmering over his surface. He’d been badly damaged in the fight, and as he spoke his voice distorted.

“Thank you, Captain.”

Steve took a deep breath and nodded. His face stern, but his eyes were much softer than his expression and Katie knew why. It had been a while since anyone other than Sam, Nat or Wanda had called him Captain.

Steve looked at the android, he might have been damaged but they had the stone, and that was the main thing. Nodding, he spoke “Let's get you on the jet.” his voice was soft and he moved to let Sam and Wanda support Vision, Natasha following as Katie dropped behind to stay with him as they took up the rear of the group, her fingers lacing into his.

Once Vision was safely settled in a seat at the side, Sam dropped into the pilot’s seat as Katie hit the button to close the ramp as the Jet rose into the air.

“I thought we had a deal.” Natasha spun angrily to Wanda. ”Stay close, check in. Don't take any chances.”

“I'm sorry. We just wanted time.” The younger woman said gently.

Katie glanced at Steve, he was stood up in the middle of the jet, hands on the buckle of his utility belt, staring seemingly at nothing, clearly contemplating something.

“Where to, Cap?” Sam asked.

Steve looked up, he glanced at Sam then locked eyes with Katie as he spoke one word, one simple word that they had all been waiting to hear for almost 2 years.

“Home” he said, looking round the jet.

*****

After a few hours, with the morning sky being the only thing in sight, Sam started to lower the jet through thick white clouds and Katie couldn’t help but inhale sharply when the compound began to take shape as she watched out of the front window. It looked the same. The buildings, the grounds…she wasn’t sure why she had expected anything to change, maybe because it felt like everything had changed for them, but either way, there it was. The same as the last time she had seen it.

Steve noticed her demeanour change slightly as they landed. She stood up straight, her shoulders squaring as if she was about to face an onslaught. And they were, in a way. On their way they’d let Bruce know that they had Vision and were heading back, but had had no idea what they were heading back to, nor did he care. Be it Ross, police, the army, whatever, he was done bowing to anyone’s will, over playing other people’s tunes. The two years they had spent hidden had shown them that they could operate on their own if required, and he wasn’t afraid to fight anyone who got in his way.

They stepped off the ramp and strode over the lawn, Katie taking a deep breath as she looked around. She felt a wave of that many emotions she couldn’t explain or identify half of them. Memories flooded in, the long summer nights they sat outside in the garden and on the BBQ patio until sunrise. Laughs during team dinners. Sam and Wanda collaborating on pranks. Training sessions with the team and Vision reading Tolkien aloud to Wanda before asking questions about humanity's love of fiction. Walks and picnics and other things in the ground, just her and Steve. Their wedding, God their wedding! Frequent visits from Tony, bringing in new ideas and improved gadgets. Getting back safe after being out on a long mission. Feeling relaxed and at ease.

Feeling at home.

Steve’s arm curled round his wife for a moment before he pressed a kiss to the side of her head as Vision opened the door.

“Still no word from Vision?”  The holographic figure of Ross looked up from where he sat at a table and glanced at Rhodey.

“Satellites lost him somewhere over Edinburgh.” Rhodey replied. He knew they were on their way to the compound, but hadn’t told Ross deliberately. 

“On a stolen Quinjet with four of the world's most wanted criminals.” Rhodey felt his temper beginning to flare. “You know they're only criminals because you've chosen to call them that, right, sir? “

“My God, Rhodes, your talent for horseshit rivals my own.” Ross said as he stood up. The sound of the call echoed down the corridor reaching the group that were making their way through to the lab.

“If it weren't for those Accords, Vision would've been right here” Rhodey shot back and Katie glanced back at Vision as the sounds of Rhodey and Ross’ voice grew louder as they neared their destination.

“I suspect it will be a Hollo Call.” Vision said gently, answering Katie’s unasked question.  His suspicions were proven correct as they rounded the corner and the lab came into view. Rhodey was stood across from where the holographic image of Secretary Ross was facing off against him.

"You have second thoughts?" Ross was challenging Rhodey, who smiled simply as his eyes shot sideways, as Steve strode forward, his presence as intimidating as ever, and the first thing Rhodey noticed was just how dark he looked. Gone was the upstanding, All American Hero, and in its place was someone much harder, far rougher round the edges. Kiddo looked different too. Her hair was shorter, she looked slimmer too, but her upper body looked stronger. 

"Not anymore." he grinned.

The holographic Ross followed Rhodey’s gaze and his eyes fell on Steve who was stood next to Katie at the front of the group, Natasha, Wanda, Sam and Vision behind them. Steve raised his chin a little defiantly and moved to take his power stance, feet apart, hands on his belt, before he greeted Ross politely.

"Mr. Secretary" 

Katie couldn’t help the smirk on her face as she watched Ross attempting to cover up the shock he had clearly felt at the group of outlaws turning up again. She locked eyes with Rhodey who gave her the smallest of winks before he glanced back at Ross who was shaking his head slightly as he approached Steve, his holographic form almost trying to square up to him.  Steve simply raised his chin further and looked down from the steps he was stood on,

"You got some nerve." Ross sniffed, staring up at him "I'll give you that."

"You could use some of that right now." Katie shot back bluntly, Ross turning his head to face her for a second. She held his gaze and arched an eyebrow until he turned back to Steve.

"The world's on fire." Ross said incredulously. "And you think, you can just walk back in here and all is forgiven?"

Steve levelled the secretary with a firm gaze. "I'm not looking for forgiveness.” his voice took on a threatening tone as he spoke “And I'm way past asking for permission.”

At that point the smirk on Katie’s face grew even wider as she stole a glance up at her husband, pride swelling in her chest as he continued, stoic and unyielding. 

“Earth just lost her best defender, so we're here to fight. And if you wanna stand in our way," he stepped down to be at level with the hologram, and stared it square in the eyes "We'll fight you, too."

Ross was practically foaming at the mouth as his eyes went to Rhodey and he spat out his order, "Arrest them."

"All over it." Rhodey promised nonchalantly before shutting off the hologram, shortly after a beeping noise sounded from the computers.

"That's a court-martial." He informed the group as he slapped the back of his right hand into his left palm, though his tone said told Katie that he blatantly couldn’t have cared less for Ross’ demands. There was a short pause as the group glanced down at their friend, Steve smiling softly, before Rhodey’s face split into a huge smile of his own.

"It's great to see you, Cap." he said, stepping forward.

"You too, Rhodey." Steve answered, taking the last 2 steps down before he shook Rhodey's hand. Katie threw herself at her brother’s best friend and he gave her a huge bear hug before he stepped backwards.

“Hey Kiddo, you do something to your hair?” he teased.  She smiled, stepping back from his embrace while he looked the rest of the group over.

"Well. You guys really look like crap." He said lightly. "Must've been a rough couple of years."

Steve looked round, an amused smile on his face as he glanced at his wife then to the rest of the team.

"Yeah, well, the hotels weren't exactly five star." Sam quipped back cheekily, the banter flowing between them like no time at all had passed.

"Uh, I think you look great."

Steve turned at the new voice to see Bruce inching his way into the room nervously wringing his hands together.

Steve and Katie remained silent, exchanging a glance. In the rush around and the fray of the fight, we’d forgotten to explain exactly who it was that called. "Yeah. I'm back."

Katie glanced over at Nat, she had her gaze fixed solely on the scientist as she spoke "Hi, Bruce."

"Nat." Bruce answered inclining his head towards her slightly as he fidgeted.

"This is awkward." Sam piped up. Steve and Katie looked at one another, before they both smiled and looked back up at Sam.

“Any news on Tony?” Katie asked gently, interrupting the silence that had fallen.

“Not yet no.” Rhodey said. “FRIDAY lost him when he left the atmosphere. We got NASA running scans and we’re trying to track his trail but…” He shook his head. 

“Typical Tony.” Katie rolled her eyes “Always has to go one bigger and one better doesn’t he?”

Her blasé tone wasn’t fooling anyone.

"Banner.” Steve said gently, looking across the room at the scientist. “Can you fill us in on what we're up against here?"

"Yeah sure," Bruce said nodding hesitantly.

“We’ll use the living area.”  Rhodey said, “Slightly more comfortable”

They made their way to the lounge, the same lounge they had all sat in discussing the Accords. Not much had changed; the furniture was different, there was couple of new sofas and the TV was larger, but that was it. 

“So start from the beginning.” Steve looked at Bruce where he stood near the window, one hand on the back of a chair, the other on his hip. He nodded encouragingly, he could see the man was nervous “Who took Stark and what are we up against?”

“I’ll give you the short version and we can plug in the gaps later.” Bruce sighed, “His name is Thanos. He’s a War tyrant, from a planet called Titan. He goes from place to place, destroying worlds, taking what he wants, when he wants. Loki’s attack on New York?” Bruce looked around “Thanos was the one who sent him to attack Earth,"

"But what does he want?” Katie asked.

“All six Infinity Stones…” Bruce supplied.

“Infinity Stones?” Sam questioned.

“Yeah, so erm… the big bang, when it happened, it sent six of these crystals out across the universe. They each control an essential aspect of existence. Space. Reality. Power. Soul. Mind. Time.” Bruce said, rubbing his temple.

“Thor told us about them, after Ultron.” Katie looked round and her eyes fell on Steve’s “He said there were three out there unaccounted for, and three that he could locate. One was with some collector or something, one was housed in the tesseract which was locked in a vault in Asgard and the other…”

"Viz." Wanda murmured, glancing at the Stone in Vision's forehead.

Bruce nodded again. “Thanos came to our ship for the tesseract, which means he already had the Power and Space Stones before he came to Earth looking for the rest. Just that alone makes him the strongest creature in the whole universe, if he gets his hands on all six he could destroy all life as we know it."

“Hang on, the Tesseract was on your ship?” Katie looked at Bruce, “I thought it was on Asgard?”

“It was, but right before Ragnarok…” “Ragnarok?” Katie frowned, her mind whirring “But that’s…that’s the fabled downfall and the destruction of Asgard, I mean....” “I know.” Bruce looked at her. “Asgard was destroyed as part of a battle between Thor and his sister. So was his hammer.” “What?” Steve let out a breath as Katie felt her mouth drop open.

“Thor has a sister?”

“Look, that’s a whole different story.” Bruce said, his tone slightly frustrated. “All you need to know is that Loki –yeah, surprise, not dead, -stole the tesseract from the Vault before we left. Thanos boarded the ship and took the stone. Just took it.” he said, his arms swinging out to his sides before returning with a slap.

The room fell silent.

“So Thor.” Katie took a deep breath and asked the question she wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer to “Where…”

Bruce dropped his head. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh no.” Steve muttered as he dropped his head, looking downwards. He glanced up and saw across the table that Katie had her right hand against her forehead the heel of which was pressed hard into the space between her eyes in utter dismay.

Thor. Gone.  

“He was no match for Thanos, not when he had those stones.” Bruce said gently. A single tear trickled down Katie’s cheek and fell to the floor and Steve watched as she took a deep breath, furiously wiping at her face.

“So the two we fought came for the mind stone.”  Sam spoke for the first time “I’m assuming the ones you fought were after another one that’s located somewhere in New York?”

"The Time Stone.” Bruce nodded “It was being protected by some mystical arts guy, or a Wizard as Tony called him, Dr Steven Strange.” Katie’s head whipped round to Steve and he took a breath and straightened up, before he glanced over at Sam and Natasha and the four of them shared an instant understanding, they’d heard that name before on top of a multi-storey parking garage in DC.

"A TV anchor in Cairo, the Undersecretary of Defense, a high school valedictorian in Iowa City. Bruce Banner, Stephen Strange, anyone who's a threat to HYDRA! Now, or in the future.”

“But he was taken along with Tony.” Bruce finished.

Katie didn’t even want to think about that right now. She had to trust in her brother’s quick mind and sharp resilience, because the alternative didn’t bear thinking about.

"Well, we gotta assume they're coming back, right?" Rhodey said and Steve looked down again, his mind racing as he tried to make sense of everything Bruce had said.

"And they can clearly find us." Wanda added.

"We need all hands on deck," Bruce said pacing, "Where's Clint?"

"After the whole Accords situation, he and Scott took a deal," Natasha explained, "It's too tough on their families. They're on house arrest."

"Who's Scott?" Bruce frowned.

"Ant Man," Steve answered.

"There's an Ant Man and a Spider Man?" Bruce looked around in confusion, but it was Rhodey who nodded, simply, like it was just perfectly normal. Bruce shook his head, realising that it didn’t really matter at the moment before he continued. "Thanos has the biggest army in the Universe. And he is not gonna stop until he gets Vision's stone." He said the last part softly, almost reluctantly.

"Well then, we have to protect it," Natasha said stepping forward but Vision immediately corrected her.

"No, we have to destroy it," he said resolutely, his gaze focussed on something out of the window as everyone turned to him.  He turned to face them and gestured to the stone in his head. "I've been giving a good deal of thought to this entity in my head, about its nature. But also its composition. I think if it were exposed to a sufficiently powerful energy source, something very similar to its own signature, perhaps" he made his way over to Wanda and held onto her upper arm, "Its molecular integrity could fail."

"Yeah, and you with it," Wanda looked at him, shaking her head "We're not having this conversation."

"Eliminating the stone is the only way to be certain that Thanos can't get it."

Katie noticed Wanda’s eyes flash as she glared at Vision. "It's also too high a price."

"Only you have the power to pay it," Vision said quietly.

Steve shifted slightly. He knew that Vision was right, but the idea of losing someone else in their group didn’t sit well.

"Thanos threatens half the Universe.” Vision persisted “One life cannot in the way of defeating him."

"But it should," Steve argued, his eyes were diverted to the floor as he spoke gently, and it was right. Who were any of them to decide one life was worth less than anyone else? He took a deep breath and looked up and around the room before landing back on the android "We don't trade lives, Vision."

"Captain, seventy years ago you laid down your life to save how many millions of people? Tell me, why is this any different?"

Steve took a sigh and stepped towards Vision, unable to answer because he knew the android had him, but then Bruce did it for him.

"Because you might have a choice," Bruce answered, and Steve could see the Scientist had suddenly had an idea, "Your mind is made up of a complex construct of overlays. Jarvis, Ultron, Tony, me, the stone. All of them mixing together. All of them learning from one another."

"You're saying Vision isn't just the stone?" Wanda asked.

"I'm saying that if we take out the stone, there's still a whole lot of Vision left. Perhaps the best parts."

"Can we do that?" Natasha asked looking back and forth between the android and the scientist somewhat impatiently.

"Not me. Not here."

Steve suddenly began to think, maybe not Bruce, but could Suri? She had fixed Bucky after all, surely she could do this. T’Challa would be happy to help. And with his defences, maybe Wakanda was the safest place for Vision to be.

"Well you better find someone and somewhere fast," Rhodey pipped in.  "Ross isn't just gonna let you guys have your old rooms back."

Steve nodded to himself, his mind made up before he raised his head to look up around the group. "I know somewhere."

His eyes momentarily locked onto Katie’s and he watched as the realisation crossed her face, she knew instantly where he meant.

“Wakanda?” she asked.

He nodded, turning to Sam. “Can we get wheels up in 20?"

Sam nodded and Steve turned to Rhodey. "That enough time for you to load up your suit?"

"Yeah. Should be."

“Ok. “Steve looked round “Banner, I suggest you grab what you need. The rest of us, back to the jet.”

The team began to bustle about and then Katie remembered something.

“Rhodey?” she asked, hopping down off the table, “Where’s Steve’s shield?”

Rhodey paused in the doorway and turned to face her. “I don’t know, sorry Kiddo. Tony never mentioned it.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Steve said gently. As Katie opened her mouth to suggest they had a look for it, he cut her off “And we don’t have time either, we need to go.”

Truth be told he didn’t want the shield back. It wasn’t his, not anymore.

“Fine.” Katie said somewhat stiffly. “I’m going to raid the armoury anyway, pick up a few things…” “Katie!” he called after her as she hurried out of the room. He let out a frustrated groan.

“I’ll go.” Rhodey said, patting the Captain on the shoulder. “I need my suit anyway.” The directions ingrained in her memory forever she headed to the armoury on autopilot and once inside she stopped dead. It had all changed. To the left were the usual lockers, although they now held no names she would lay odds on all the original seven of them still having kit in there. The guns, arrows, widow bites, shock batons were all still there on the racks. Rhodey’s War Machine kit stood in the corner, but what wasn’t was an Iron Man suit, or a Nova suit, of any description. Instead, in place of the the usual glass cabinets that held them were rows of smaller capsules.

“What the…” Katie mumbled, heading closer to examining “FRIDAY?”

“Welcome home Mrs Rogers…” The AI spoke, a hint of amusement in her voice “I believe Pod Seventy-Six is one of yours”

“Tony’s been working on upgrades” Rhodey spoke from behind, making her jump. “Nano-tech, courtesy of some work with Helen Cho.” “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Katie frowned as Rhodey made his way to the War Machine suit.

“Sevety-Six you say?” Katie’s eyes scanned the wall. “OK, FRIDAY hit me up.” One of the capsules opened and a smaller capsule flew out, opening in mid- air and then out of nowhere a suit formed around her body.

“Woah…” Katie said, as the familiar heads-up display lit up.

“The suit is held in a simple bangle” FRIDAY explained. “I’ll show you once the calibrations are done.”

As FRIDAY rattled through the new features, including a shield, new weapons Katie stole a glance in the mirror. It was much sleeker and less bulky, almost like wearing a cat-suit in a way. It was dark blue and gold, as always, with her Supernova Star in the middle of the chest. She gently reached up to touch it and the suit melted away to a silver cuff with the star in the middle which she tentatively placed around her wrist.

“Impressive huh?” Rhodey asked as he stepped into the War Machine suit.

“One word for it.” She said softly, tracing the outline of her bracelet with her fingers. “I can’t… why did he make it?” she looked up at Rhodey who slid his face plate back up to look at her.

“You know what Tony’s like.” Rhodey said, “Just because you left doesn’t mean he stopped caring.”

Katie looked down at the bracelet on her right wrist.

"Was- Was he okay, you know...after?" She asked, her voice cracking.

"He was as okay as he could be…” Rhodey hesitated slightly “To be honest, nothing was great though. The team was split and…”

Katie looked down “I had to go, I couldn’t stay, not after what he said to me.” Rhodey looked at her. “And have you ever considered why he said what he did?” “Because he hates me?” “No, because he loves you.” Rhodey took a deep breath “He knew full well that whatever choice you made it was going to kill you, but he couldn’t see you sat in a jail, he just couldn’t Kiddo. So he did what he had to do make sure you stayed away.” Whatever she had been expecting Rhodey to say it wasn’t that. His words hit her like a tonne of bricks and she felt her face screw up as she blinked back the tears. 

“Shit…” she managed to mumble out. “I could, you know we could have called him, or he could have called us, tried to …” “You’re both as obstinate as one another” Rhodey said, shaking his head as he started to walk to the door of the armoury “Which is why I know he’s still alive. He’s too much of a stubborn asshole to die. “

*******

Tony was pissed, really pissed. Not only was he stuck on this fucking ship, the kid was still here too. Peter Parker was almost as much of a pain in his ass as Katie had been when she was his age. The thought of his sister brought a pang to his heart, especially when he knew she was more than likely at the compound now after Bruce will have called them. He hoped anyway, he’d thrown the phone down before the fight after all, he just hoped the scientist had found it.

He looked around and glared at Peter before his shoulders fell. Well the kid was here now, might as well use him.

“Come on.” Tony sighed “We got a situation” He lead Peter over to a viewpoint to see the torture going on below. Peter crouched to study the situation, with that damned cloak leaning over his shoulder. “See him down there? He's in trouble.” Tony continued “What's your plan? Go.”

“Um. Okay, okay... uh...” Peter and the cloak popped back up suddenly, a smile playing on Peter’s face. “Okay. Did you ever see this really old movie, Aliens?”

It was a dumbass plan, but dumbass enough to work. Tony blew a hole in the side of the ship which caused a huge depressurization and as such the alien was sucked out of the side. A quick struggle and Dr Strange was rescued from drifting off to space, Tony repaired the side of the hull with nanites and that was that.

“We've gotta turn this ship around” Strange looked at Tony who rolled his eyes. .

“Yeah. Now he wants to run. Great plan”. 

“No, I want to protect the stone.”

Tony walked towards the expansive front view-port and from the way things were moving out there, he assumed they were travelling at some kind of hyper speed. The wizard was irritating him though, if he’d just agreed to get the stone out of the way they wouldn’t even be in this mess. 

“And I want you to thank me now. Go ahead, I'm listening.” he turned to glare at him.

“For what?” Strange snorted, “Nearly blasting me into space? 

“Who just saved your magical ass? Me.” Tony looked at him. “

“I seriously don't know how you fit your head into that helmet”. Strange shook his head as he eyed the billionaire up and down. 

“Admit it.” Tony said, for some reason he felt the need to make this guy admit he was wrong, just like he used to try and do with Rogers. No particular reason for it, other than being the one to come out on top “. You should have ducked out when I told you to. I tried to bench you. You refused.” 

“Unlike everyone else in your life, I don't work for you”. 

“And due to that fact, we're now in a flying doughnut billions of miles away from Earth with no backup.” Tony gestured around him.  

“I’m back up.” Peter said, raising his hand. 

“No, you’re a stowaway.” Tony said, waggling his finger between himself and Dr. Strange “The adults are talking”. 

“I'm sorry, I'm confused as to the relationship here. Wh-- what is he, your ward?” Strange frowned.

“No. I'm Peter, by the way.” Peter said, holding out his hand. 

“ Dr Strange.” Strange replied, looking at him.

“Oh, we're using our made-up names. Um. I'm Spider-Man, then”. 

Before Strange could respond, Tony piped up. “This ship is self-correcting its course. Thing's on autopilot.”

Strange walked closer to where Tony was stood. “Can we control it? Fly us home?”

Home…Thanos…home. 

They’d almost flattened New York once, and then there was Sokovia…no, home was most certainly a bad idea.

“Stark?” Strange’s voice cut across his thoughts. “Can you get us home? 

Yeah I heard you. I'm thinking. I'm not so sure we should.” he said, honestly.

“Under no circumstance can we bring the Time Stone to Thanos.” Strange warned “I don't think you quite understand what's at stake here”.

“No. It's you who doesn't understand, that Thanos has been inside my head for six years since he sent an army to New York and now he's back!” Tony said, stalking towards Strange, jabbing a finger in the air as he pointed towards the ground. “And I don't know what to do. So I'm not so sure if it's a better plan to fight him on our turf or his but you saw what they did, what they can do. At least on his turf, he's not expecting it. So I say we take the fight to him. Doctor. Do you concur?“

Strange had to admit, the guy had a point. Let Thanos destroy his own place, not theirs. “Alright, Stark. We go to him. But you have to understand... if it comes to saving you or the kid or the Time Stone... I will not hesitate to let either of you die. I can't, because the fate of the universe depends on it”

“Nice. Good. Moral compass. We're straight” Tony nodded. Stepping over to Peter he tapped each of the kids shoulder with the edge of his hand, dubbing him as is done at a knighting. 

“Alright, kid. You're an Avenger now”

Tony couldn’t look at him as he spoke, because he knew what he was signing the kid up for. 

******

The jet was filled with chatter as Rhodey, Bruce and the rest of the team were catching up but Katie wasn’t listening. She wasn’t feeling great either, that damned sick feeling was back, most likely this time down to utter fear about what was to come. If Bruce was right, she wasn’t convinced this was a battle they were ever going to be able to win.

“You know,” she said, looking up at Steve and voicing her fear softly, “if he’s already killed Thor, and it’s going to take us, plus a royal army to attempt to fight this guy off what fucking chance does Tony stand?”

Steve didn’t answer, he couldn’t. Because what he was thinking wasn’t going to provide her any comfort. Instead he merely tightened his arm around her and pressed his lips to her forehead.

It was a couple of hours later before they hit Wakandan airspace.

"We're coming up." Sam spoke as Steve focussed his attention out of the front of the jet, one arm hanging lightly against the grab rails on the roof.

"Drop to 2600, heading 0-3-0." Steve instructed.

Sam glanced back over his shoulder before he spoke, "I hope you're right about this, Cap. Or we're gonna land a lot faster than you want to."

Katie gave a small smile as she drew up next to Steve, wrapping her arms around his waist. They both stood, waiting as Sam flew the jet right into the trees, and swore with a loud ‘holy shit’ as it passed right through the hologram barrier into Wakanda. Everyone on the jet moved to get a better look at the beautiful mountains, lakes, buildings as the jet circled and Steve directed Sam to the runway.

They disembarked and Katie strolled off shortly behind Steve, followed by Natasha. Vision and Wanda stayed put, Steve telling them he would get them some help soon.

Bruce, who was at the rear with Rhodey whispered as he shrugged his arms into his jacket, "Should we bow?"

"Yeah, he's a king." Rhodey answered casually without missing a beat.

Steve ignored their banter instead smiling warmly at T'Challa as he reached out to shake his hand. "Seems like I'm always thanking you for something."

T'Challa smiled back and he shook Steve's hand before embracing Katie in a warm hug. “Mrs Rogers, it is a pleasure to see you.” “And you.” She smiled softly, before she stepped back and T’Challa nodded to the rest of the group. The clearing of a throat caught Katie’s attention and she turned just in time to see Bruce bow forward towards T’Challa.

"What are you doing?" Rhodey asked, looking at him.

"Uh, we don't do that here." T'Challa said kindly waving a hand to stop Bruce’s bow. Everyone smiled in amusement expect for Bruce who turned and shot a disbelieving but amused look at Rhodey who grinned back at him, nudging him with his elbow.

Then they turned serious again as T'Challa asked, "So how big of an assault can we expect?"

His guards moved as he spoke, opening up a path that T'Challa took, leading them away. They followed quickly while Bruce piped up politely as he explained, "Uh, sir, I think you can expect quite a big assault."

"How we looking?" Natasha added, addressing the king with a similarly concerned frown on her face.

"You will have my King's Guard," T'Challa listed, "the Border Tribe, the Dora Milaje, and-" He gestured to the side just as a familiar, dark-clothed man stepped out of the building to greet them by the door.

"A semi-stable, one hundred-year-old man." Bucky grinned. Katie smiled back and then glanced at Steve as he walked forwards, that familiar boyish grin on his face as pulled the man into a hug clapping him on the back a few times.

"How have you been, Buck?" he pulled back to look at his friend. He looked as well as he’d seen him in years. Healthy and dare he say it, happy.

"Not bad," Bucky shrugged looking down at his new black vibranium arm, "For the end of the world.” Katie stepped forward to give him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “You look good Buck.” she said, standing back to look him up and down before smiling, something that didn’t escape Steve’s notice. And yes, he knew there was nothing in it, and this was the most inappropriate time to get jealous but still…

“I feel it.” Bucky smiled as Steve slid his arm around his wife’s shoulder. “Goat farming suits me.” With that, Bucky turned to Sam. “Hey man.”  

“Frosty.” Sam responded with a jerk of his head.

They left Rhodey, Sam and Bucky with some of the guard to keep watch, and the rest of them followed T'Challa up to the labs where the person who was said to be able to safely remove Vision's stone was waiting. Steve could tell that the rest of the group weren’t expecting that person to be T'Challa's sixteen year old sister, Shuri. But T'Challa had full faith in her, as did Steve after she had managed to remove Bucky's programming.  

"Whoa." Shuri blinked as she stared at the hologram of Vision's brain and the stone in awe, "The structure is polymorphic...”

"Right, we had to attach each neuron non-sequentially." Bruce nodded and Shuri glanced at him with a raised brow.

"Why didn't you just reprogram the synapses to work collectively?" She asked looking at Banner. Vision also glanced at the doctor in question.

"Because... we didn't think of it." Bruce admitted sheepishly.

Shuri smiled and Katie had to fight the laugh that was brewing at the Princess’ playful nature "I'm sure you did your best."

"Can you do it?" Wanda asked stepping forward anxiously.

Shuri's smile dropped as she became more serious. "Yes, but there are more than two trillion neurons here. One misalignment could cause a cascade of circuit failures." Her gaze moved to T’Challa “It will take time, brother."

"How long?" Steve asked, straightening up slightly.

Shuri shook her head. "As long as you can give me." She answered honestly and worryingly.

A loud warning siren suddenly started and instantly Katie looked around. General Okoye tapped at something on her bracelet and she looked over at T’Challa."Something's entered the atmosphere."

Seconds later, Sam's voice called over their coms, "Hey, Cap, we got a situation here."

Katie moved over to the floor-length windows of the lab to look out, Steve stood close behind her as everyone followed to see what was going on. In the distance, they could see the plains all around as far as the border stretched to the city. A giant ship descended from the sky and as they watched it exploded high above the city as soon as it touched the shield, causing Katie to jump back slightly. Steve gently caught her, his hands going to her shoulders as his focus remained on the exploding ship which dissipated above the invisible barrier they had flown through.

"God, I love this place."  Bucky’s contented sigh rang over their coms.

"Yeah, don't start celebrating yet, guys. We got more incoming outside the dome." Rhodey warned.

More ships came crashing down to Earth just outside the Wakandan barrier disturbing the dust and sand on the ground as they landed. The lab they were stood in shook slightly and Vision sat up.

"It's too late."  he whispered and both Steve and Katie turned to look at him as he sat up. "We need to destroy the stone now."

"Vision, get your ass back on the table." Nat replied snapping her head back to look at him as she made her way to the door.

"We will hold them off." T'Challa said motioning to his guard.

"Wanda," Steve spoke up, looking at the young woman, "As soon as the stone's out of his head, you blow it to hell."

Wanda nodded with promise, "I will."

Steve turned his attention back to the window, watching the space ships which at the moment were doing nothing. T'Challa meanwhile, turned to his General and her warriors and began barking orders, "Evacuate the city. Engage all defences."

Steve turned to look at him as the king pointed in his directing before adding firmly. "And get this man a shield!"

Steve gave a small nod before he glanced back out of the window. For 2 years his fighting days had been focussed on simple people. Small groups of nobodies. Now, they were being thrown back into the crazy world of Aliens, AIs…and he knew they were going to look to him for leadership.

He might not be Captain America anymore, but he was still Captain Rogers, still that dumb kid from Brooklyn. And he still wasn’t going to run from a fight. 

 Tags

@the-omni-princess

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@thewackywriter

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[blankdblank]

Oh Honey

 … Mentions of abuse, attempted assault - not graphic, mostly mentioned...

“I thought I could always trust you!”

“Don’t! I don’t need to hear more pathetic excuses!”

…

We’re just blowing up the actual Tolkien timeline. I’m a day late and getting tired so pt 2 will be out tomorrow. :D

…

Who’s afraid of the Big Bad Wolf? The question making you smirk as you finished securing the buttons on the cinched vest accenting your bust in a drop maroon shade over a simple cotton blouse dangling over your thighs under tapering panels on the knee length vest covering the tops of your black jeans tucked into knee length boots. You would have worn your leather leggings your friend had bought you but they tugged too tightly over the bruises your step brother had left there. Lastly a grey fur coat with ears on the hood to finish off the look in securing the buttons cinching the jacket above you.

Your friends were waiting and you had to get going so right out your window you went, using the lattices nailed to the wall coated in flowering vines leading up to your father and step mother’s bedroom. He wasn’t all bad, no, to the world he was the best thing since sliced bread and your hindrance on ‘family’ gatherings since the wedding rehearsal dinner when his hand rested on then eased up your thigh receiving a fork inches from his groin triggering an all out war.

It had been two weeks while your parents were away on their honeymoon and you made sure to get gone. Though tonight you had come back for one purpose, legally you were an adult and instead of saving money to finish out your degree living at home with the sixteen year old predator you returned for a single night to finalize your plan. All week you had snuck in while he was off at team practices packing and filling your trunk to the brim and tonight you had your final bag of things to carry to your waiting car down the block.

Two fences and a hedge leap later you patted the head of a guard dog you passed a treat to in exchange for his silence to climb into your car parked in the back driveway to a neighbors’ that was gone for their night shift. It seemed so easy, just tell the truth and things would get better, but like Cassandra being cursed by Hera you were not to be believed by any wine it came to voicing injustices.

But to yourself you recited the phrase from your favorite film the Labyrinth when Sarah calls out to the Goblin King. Not noticing the glint of an icy blue eye in the crystal marbles dangling from your rear view mirror at the glare from a street light you drove under on your way to the costume party you were expected at. Hosted by the friend you would be renting a closet sized room from to share the apartment around it with six other of your friends to save cash.

Straight through a green light you rolled into the intersection only to slam on the breaks as a truck pulling what looked to be sheets of glass somehow appeared out of nowhere. Shattered shards fell around the metal body of the car contorting and warping as your eyes slammed shut. Soft chirping and bright sunlight has you squinting an eye open, looking around you gawked at the lush lands you were in filled with giggling children racing on the street in the distance into the lakeside pasture you were in. From the stump you were seated on you stood and gasps sounded with the curious children racing over to see the person now turning in circles to see where they were.

“Tiny people…” you mumbled to yourself mentally seeing a man tip his hat to you pulling a massive cow, in comparison to him, along to wherever he was going you nodded to in return.

Giggles surrounded you and you looked down flashing a grin exposing your naturally slightly pointed canine teeth and bright smile making an adorably giggly girl ask, “Are you really part wolf?”

“What?” After a moment you reached up, “Oh no, just the hood,” lowering your hood exposing your naturally silver curls with lavender dyed ends in a straightened ponytail now gently curling back in a warming before the usual sudden poof at how humid the air seemed to be getting in contrast to your former fall setting.

A boy asked, “Are you here to see the Wizard?”

After a weak chuckle you said, “Why not? Where is he?”

The girl answered, “Gandalf left last week Juniper! He’s off to Bree.”

You nodded and said, “Bree it is then, thank you.”

They grinned up at you and you tried to turn away only for the boy to tug on the tail of your shirt, “Your bag!”

Looking down you smirked seeing the carpet bag there you nodded and lowered smiling at him, “I’d forget my own head some days of it wasn’t glued on so tight.” Making the children giggle and run off again as you lifted it and started to the road they had come from.

Far behind you though the children together called out, “The other way!” Making you giggle and wave in thanks at them turning to your left instead to follow the road wherever it wandered passing the kind curious tiny people along the way.

***

Holding up the crystal ball set on his throne in the middle of a meeting in Amon Lanc Prince Thranduil wondered just when these three balls would help him find his One. A gift from Annatar of Rivendell and all he got was flashed of a gorgeous woman with absurdly colored hair. Again just now he saw her, this time with furry ears on top of her head and then suddenly shouts around him died as he fell straight to his back in a sunlit field. Groaning in his rise children swarmed him and grinned asking, “Are you here to see the Wizard too?”

“What?”

They pointed to the figure in the distance near the edges of the city, “She is off to see him as well.”

Instantly his lips parted and he shot up, “Thank you!” And darted off after that stranger in hopes it might just be you.

*

Deeply a sigh left you as you eyed the clearing with nothing but a road for miles without end making you mumble, “Years of watching Bambi is warning me against this, but, we have to get to Bree…” stepping out into the open you walked on, and on, and on. A stop for water in a small stream to fill your thermos from your bag however had brought the figure in the distance to your attention.

Continuing on subtle stolen glances back kept bringing their place to your attention quickening your pace. Up a hill you hastened and on the other side you crouched to hide behind the swaying tall grass surrounding the empty road. Soon enough the mysterious blonde cane into view turning in a circle trying to spot you only to shriek and drop a few inches in a readied stance to strike as you popped up behind him saying, “Can I help you?!”

Inhaling steadily his hand rose to smooth over his outer pale blue robe reaching to his knee over silver pants and tall boots with twin long swords strapped to his hips. “Forgive me, My Lady,” his eyes looked you over and in the warm sunlight taking in your features his words unknowingly halted.

“Are you following me?!”

Hastily he cleared his throat and said, “I am also in search of Mithrandir.”

“Mithrandir? Because I’m looking for a Gandalf.”

“Ah, they are one in the same. Hobbits refer to him as Gandalf and Elves as Mithrandir.”

“Hobbits, And Elves…” moving closer to him you shifted on your feet inspecting his ears and gasped, “You’re an Elf!! Like in Middle Earth-,” your expression shifted to a playfully curious smirk in asking, “Am I in Middle Earth?”

With a nod he replied, “Yes, My Lady. We are, and I am, an Elf.”

His eyes switched to your ears you felt with a giddy squeak at their new tips and you turned to keep going in a bouncing giddy quickstep. “So cool! Always wanted to be an Elf, but then again I’m not technically as stoic or graceful or willing to abandon my children like most self Maidens seem to be.”

“You have children?” He asked hurrying after you.

“Hmm? No. Just, in the books you can’t go without seeing six out of ten Elf mothers abandoning their children to certain doom and loneliness in the books.”

“You know of our histories then?”

“Some,” looking up at him you offered your hand, “Jaqi. But everyone calls me Tiny. You are?”

Slightly afraid to admit his title yet Thranduil answered, “Duil.” Eyeing your hand you pulled back to your side with a nod and faced forward again making his brows furrow at the drop of your grin wondering if he had issued you insult. Quietly you strolled until he noticed your hand moving to unbutton your jacket in the growing warm breeze to cool down a bit, “Is that fox fur?”

Peering up at him you shook your head, “No, it’s fake fur,” you said with a giggle, “I doubt I could ever afford a real fur coat like this.”

“Fake fur?”

You nodded and flashed him a weak grin, “It’s really soft, did you want to feel?” You said raising your arm making him side step to keep himself from issuing any unjust contact between you.

His brows furrowed in a steady inhale and he asked, “How can you fake fur?”

It was your turn for your brows to furrow as you answered, “Um, I, don’t really know. I thought it was like sheep’s wool but stripped really finely and woven into stocks of fabric. I know some use Alpaca fur, but those are out of my price range. This one was second hand and a bargain.” Curiously peering down at your still raised arm his hand rose and risking the flash of seeing the creature’s last moments only to feel nothing but the silky soft material so similar to an implacable type of fur it was trying to resemble.

“What animal is it meant to resemble?” He said withdrawing his hand only to have his brows pop up as you raised your hood with wolf ears on it.

“It’s a wolf costume.”

Lowly he repeated, “Wolf costume..”

“Ya, well, the Big Bad Wolf to be exact,” your eyes met his and you explained, “It’s from a children’s story, my friend was throwing a costume party and I ended up in, what must be The Shire. Where’d you come from?”

“Oh, my family was also having, a gathering, of sorts. In the Greater Greenwood.”

“I bet it’s lovely there.” Curiously he looked you over as you grinned to yourself looking ahead over the endless path through a low rumble of thunder building around you explaining the humidity.

“It is. You know much of it?”

You shook your head, “No, the books say more about Rivendell than Lothlorien and Greater Greenwood, mainly,” in a turn of your head you asked, “Is Feanor dead?”

With a nod he answered, “Yes,” his brows furrowed again, “Why do you ask?”

“Trying to place when I am…is this the First Age?”

“Yes, in the birth of it.”

“Hmm, ok, so no big wars yet with Sauron.”

“Sauron?”

“Annatar is his alias, if you know that one.” Making his lips part, “He’s Melkor’s student.”

“My Ada shall have to hear of this when we find Mithrandir.”

“I think we should write to Celebrimbor first.”

Thranduil’s head turned, “Why would we be writing to Curufinion?”

“Because he’s the one that Annatar possesses to create the Rings that destroy Middle Earth.”

Parting his lips again, yet the first drop of rain had his eyes turn upwards at the clouds that had rolled in above you, “We should find shelter…”

Turning around in a circle he tried to find any source of cover only to flinch at the ‘shink’ of your obnoxiously wide umbrella you pulled from your bag and opened at your side then lifted over your heads making him look at it then you in the growing patter of rain overhead. “It’s an umbrella.” His eyes met yours again, “As long as there’s no lightning we should be fine to keep going.”

Looking forward again he watched the path ahead and round you growing wetter while he couldn’t help but giggle to himself mentally at the simple contraption to ease a common problem.

..

Passing the first  street sign stating you were leaving the Hobbit territory your eyes snapped to a floating ball when you stopped in your tracks, inside which a voice emanated, “Miss Pear, you have called out to me and I have answered. Welcome to my domain! Answering your plea I have taken your brother as my hostage. Should you regret your choice-,”

“You have Kody?”

Pausing slightly the voice replied, “He is my prisoner! Should you-,”

Grabbing the ball you said, “Keep him, you took him he’s yours!” As hard as you could you hurled the ball away only to watch it shatter against a boulder in the distance and turn to a dark waft of mist fading to nothing stirring screams far off in the distance from the one who had stolen him away.

“Your brother has been taken! How-,”

“I don’t have a brother.” You snapped back at his voice raising at you.

“Then who did that person take?”

“My father remarried a few weeks ago, it was her son.”

“So you have a brother!”

Stopping to look up at him his stomach clenched at your challenging gaze, “What sort of brother tries to put a hand up his older sister’s dress?” That dropped his jaw and he turned to walk with you as you said, “He’s given me twelve bruises since then trying to force me to let him touch me, part of why I was moving out and getting far away from that little predator. Whoever took him can keep him.”

“What did your family do when you told them of his actions?”

“They didn’t believe me.”

“Why would you falsify-,”

With a sigh you said, “I don’t know, ever since I was a kid I’d be on the wrong end of situations often and when I tried to speak up no one believed me. Not until someone else spoke up. I don’t lie,” you wet your lips then said, “You wouldn’t know the story, but we have stories about beings, sort of like the Valar,” he nodded in your eyes meeting his, “Zeus would be like your Manwe, top of the gods under Eru, and his wife Hera, well she like to give curses, and one of them was Cassandra, she was a seer and she was cursed that none would believe her. The world’s full of stories like that, cursed families, maybe  was cursed, who knows, magic was so far from common knowledge in my time compared to when they were handed out so it’s all left explained to luck I guess.”

“Was your father believed?”

“I think it was from my Mom. She died when I was little, he’s always been successful, so unless he struck a deal that I get his bad luck so he gets good luck.”

“Why would a parent do that? Force suffering on their children?”

Peering up at him you couldn’t help but grin saying, “I envy you, for not knowing a world like mine. I am glad to be here now though. Hopefully I can stay and Gandalf won’t try to send me back.” Looking forward again his heart sank wondering just what sort of family you had come from and in the silence his mind wandered to just what sort of injuries were hidden under your layers.

…

Bree soon grew in the distance as the rains dwindles allowing you to fold up your umbrella again you slid back into your bag. Into the Prancing Pony you led the way and Mr Butterbur had no clue when the Wizard would be back again leading to your stop to eat, an offer from Duil, to fund before you continued on again in an agreed goal of Rivendell. Horses sounded after you however when you had left the town borders. Subtly your hand dipped into your bag remembering the pair of guys in the dining hall that trailed your path out of town.

Up to your side the pair rode and heavily hopped down with crossbows extended both at you. The pair of them smirked and the larger of the two growled out, “Hand over your goods.”

The other said noting Duil’s swords, “And no thoughts on drawing those blades or the Lady dies.”

Without looking at Duil you asked, “Can you speak to horses?”

Duil looked at you, “Yes, all Elves can.”

“Would you tell them to stand upwind a few feet, I would hate to hurt them, you as well.”

Duil looked you over as the men notched their crossbows and he passed on your request in Quenya then moved around your back as you raised the canister in your hand and in a steady sweep over the pair an orange mist exploded and they collapsed howling in pain cursing at you. Pocketing the canister you approached them nudging the crossbows out of their reach then you turned to Duil and the confused horses saying, “Bear mace. Like liquid fire. Made to scare off bears but also useful for the common thug.”

Nearing the horses you smiled at the tan dappled pair saying, “You are so beautiful. How would you like to go to Rivendell?”

Their ears popped up in glee and Duil asked, “Are you considering stealing their horses?”

“You mean the Men who just tried to kill me for my bag? Yup, I’m freeing their horses from their ignorance.” Strolling around to the side of the shorter of the two you reached up to grip the knot on the saddle and eased your foot in the stirrup to climb up on and look down mumbling, “Been a long time since I’ve ridden a horse…”

Settling your bag in your lap a gentle shift of the reigns had the horse turning and you looked at Duil who rolled his eyes and joined you on the second horse, “Let us fly before their corpses are discovered.”

A giggle from you in the gallop away had him looking at you only to hear, “Mace only lasts ten minutes at the most.”

“What?”

“You don’t want to kill the bears or the idiots, just get time to get away.”

He looked forward again uncertain what aspect made him more upset, the need for the product or the fact that he was now a horse thief even if he turned around to give them back. “My Ada is never to know the manner of claiming these creatures.”

Stroking the neck of yours you said, “I asked if they wished to go to Rivendell, just say we were heading the same way and they happened to be saddled.”

“That will never be believed!” You giggled again and he asked, “What is so amusing about this?!”

“Nothing, absolutely nothing.” After another giggle you asked, “How far do you think Rivendell is?”

“Roughly a month on foot, few weeks at least.”

..

Weathertop was the first stop for your night, right up to the still in tact lookout for the Western lands of Arnor you both approached and after a second flaming glass orb arrived and was destroyed you dismounted at a pair of guards nearing you. “Who dares approach the Western Keep of the King?”

Before Thranduil could speak you said, “Hi, I’m Tiny, we’re on our way to Rivendell. I was wondering if we might wait out the rain tonight?”

The guard answered back, “This is not a lodging for commoners.”

“Ok, um, what about our horses? I have a tent, but they clearly can’t fit. Could you possibly allow them in your stables tonight?” A wide grin from you came before a confusing, “Please?”

Leaving the pair glancing from Thranduil to your horses and sigh, the first guard stated, “We will house your steeds, for the night alone, My Lady.”

The second guard said, “Keep your tent off our borders.” You nodded then turned asking where they ended and to a band of bushes they pointed and you grinned again and turned to walk off as they accepted the reigns of the horses Duil informed why they were being separated from you.

Near the bushes the pair kept glancing over curious about your tent, curious himself Thranduil aided in the holding of the supporting staffs before his brows popped up inspecting the giant onion like white tent complete with rain tarp tethered down. Standing up you looked to Duil saying, “I know it doesn’t look that big, but inside,”

“Why would you purchase a tent resembling an onion?”

You looked at him then back to the tent and asked, “Why not?” And lowered to duck inside the front flap giving him a moment to rub his forehead then glance at the stunned guards before he turned to peer inside the front flap spotting you laying out two fluffy sleeping bags he looked over slightly panicked.

“I will sleep outside tonight.”

Sitting up on your knees and you replied, “Don’t tell me you’re embarrassed to sleep in an onion tent.”

“This has nothing to do with the onion! I cannot share quarters with you!”

With a nod you said after a clap of thunder made him tremble and you smirk, “Well, the tent is waterproof where you are not,”

“I am not afraid of the rain.”

“Oh get in the tent!”

“I cannot!”

Lifting a brow you said, “You are getting in this tent or I am going to scream, and keep screaming until you do.”

“You cannot-,” At a sharp inhale from you he frog hopped inside through the round opening to sit down wide eyed at you as you flashed him a grin, “Satisfied?”

You nodded and dug in your bag for your pop up stove and using more of your water to heat up the jarred veggies you had coated in seasonings combined with and noodles you had Thranduil watched you carefully and accepted the bowl and spoon you offered him. “Thank you,” Your thanks in place for his made his eyes snap back to you with his brows up again in shock, “If you’re afraid of being alone with me I promise not to hurt you, and with the sleeping bags there won’t be any snuggling issues.”

“Sleeping, bags?”

Setting down your bowl you tugged your bag closer and showed him how the zipper turned it into a sort of cocoon easing something close to a compromise instigated grin across his lips, “See, you have yours and I have mine. No funny business. Though I have a comforter or two if it isn’t warm enough.”

“Comforter?”

“Oh honey,” you sighed out only making his head tilt slightly, “A comforter is a decorative thick warm blanket to cover the other sheets on your bed.”

“Ah. Elves are not troubled by the cold normally.”

You nodded saying, “Well, I’ll pull a spare out just in case you change your mind.”

.

Sleeping once the cooking and eating utensils were put away was next, removing your boots you closed the tent door and secured the lock on the zippers you showed Duil how to work then moved to sit inside your sleeping bag. Shrugging out of your coat the reveal of the figure hugging clothes had Duil swallowing hard though within moments you laid a purple comforter over your feet and laid back zipping and covering up with a comfortable sigh after your wiggle onto your belly to nuzzle your head into a pillow from your bag. On his back he eventually settled and closed his eyes when your breathing deepened, silently hoping that sharing quarters unchaperoned could be taken well once all details were thoroughly explained. True you would be wed one day in the future when all priorities were met but he hoped not to hasten things too quickly and ruin the reputation of your union after having been swayed into taking a consort not two centuries past giving him a son, the birth of whom withered his mother to an early grave as it came suddenly in an attack on the edges of their borders.

.

All the way to another open clearing two weeks later an eerie chill had you up early and in a cautious stroll to the nearby stream your head swiveled hearing someone around you. Tightly your throat was gripped and a broken shriek from you ended in your back being slammed into the trunk of a tree. Tighter the grip grew until a hand reached out to cover your eyes followed by a warm splash of liquid coating your lower half.

Shakily you inhaled after a harsh cough ended with Duil’s hand on your other shoulder cluing you in he was not alone. “Keep your eyes closed, Miss Pear. We will dispose of this filth.”

Weakly you asked, “On his neck, is there a c shaped red spot?”

Thranduil, “C shaped?” Holding up your hand you made a C and he replied, “This was your brother that attacked you?”

“If there’s a C on his neck it was.” Over his body Thranduil patted Glorfindel’s shoulder then they and the twin covering your eyes peering at his brother who was looking down at the now apparently young for his size teen whose body faded to nothing. Another failed plan spurring up screams in the distance and the agitated path to drawing up a new plan for his schemes. Though back in your old world the teen awoke and was instantly infuriated and in search of you to complete his dreamed strike out against you.

Eyes uncovered you silently went back to the tent to pack up while the Elves discussed what had happened a few moments prior. It took only a few moments in sharing what he had done to you in the past for the trio to be seething with anger as to who they had saved you from. Quietly the tent fell and you stood peering over at the four as Glorfindel said, “Prince Thranduil, your Ada will be relieved to know you are safe, he has had us scouring our lands for any sign of you.”

“Prince Thranduil,” you stood with a hip cocked making him sigh at the shake of your head and turn lowering your crossed arms.

Looking to the trio he stated, “I was not exactly forthcoming of my title to Miss Pear upon our introductions.”

To yourself you mumbled folding the tent up making the twins smirk in amusement, “Exactly forthcoming, no title at all Mr Duil.”

.

Atop your steeds between the trio you rode the final stretch to Rivendell, then chatting around you while Thranduil kept peering at you longingly for your forgiveness. His lips parted and in a far from threatening tone you said, “Don’t! I don’t need more pathetic excuses!” Already he could spot the few usual markers of your use of ‘sarcasm’ and it eased his mind knowing you were in a form of jest with him, even if you were a bit upset at the moment for the initial half truth. “I thought I could always trust you!”

By chance Elrond was already out in a trip to Lothlorien so you were stuck waiting for word on what to do next. Odd ruffling sounds brought the newly discovered Prince into the doorway of the open dining area you were sitting in to remain out of the way for the workers in the kingdom all staring at your every moment.

It seemed wishes for a better look had him in the doorway watching on as you shuffled your deck of cards once again. Breaking the silence as you set up another game of Solitaire he asked, “Are you testing the fates’ path for you with your cards?”

“No. Just a game of Solitaire.” For the remainder stack if cards you swiped your hand fanning them out, “Pick a card.”

His brow inched up and Elladhan slid to his side choosing for him making you smirk asking, “Is it the three of hearts?”

Ellohrir shook his head with a chuckle before you claimed the card and turned it to peek at it reading the seven of clubs, “Hmm..” Turning it back to them your other hand rose to flick the card making them gasp seeing it now reading the four of spades. “How about now? Three of hearts?”

Again they shook their heads looking at you and the card in confused awe as you clicked your tongue then leaned to your right looking Thranduil over, “You’ve got something-,” Reaching out his ear twitched as your finger grazed his hair hanging over his ear before he heard a flick of paper sound and your hand drew back making their mouths drop open as you held the three of hearts in your hand, “There it is. Trying to spoil my tricks by hiding the card in your ear, young Prince.” Shaking you head he couldn’t help but chuckle a you said, “For shame.” Teasingly.

Glorfindel approached saying, “You are a Wizard then.”

You looked up at him shaking your head, “Nope, all slight of hand,” you said flicking the card from one hand to the other changing it to the seven of clubs again. “My father is a magician, I used to be his assistant. All slight of hand and misdirection for amusement of crowds. Easy to learn with practice. Nothing special.”

Your eyes lowered to put the cards back into the remainder deck you shuffled again before Thranduil said, “You are unfathomably special.” Making you glance up at him before he shifted to learn more on this card game of yours hoping to get back to your same joking, relaxed relationship.

…

All –

@himoverflowers​, @theincaprincess, @aspiringtranslator​, @sweeticedtea​, @ggbbhehe4455​, @thegreyberet​, @patanghill17​, @jesgisborne​, @curvestrology​, @alishlieb​, @jogregor​, @armitageadoration​, @fizzyxcustard​, @here2have-fun​, @lilith15000​, @marvels-ghost​, @catthefearless​, @imjusthereforthereads​, @c-s-stars​

Hobbit/LotR – @abiwim​, @jotink78​, @pastelhexmaniac​

X Thranduil - @evyiione​, @sweetlytenacious25​, @tigereyesf​, @pastelhexmaniac

[jasonfersman]

Everlasting Life: A Tale

Silence. A boon to have when working, but a bane when you’re all alone. Granted, most individuals have moments in their day filled with meaningful interactions between themselves and other people. There’s never a full day when you’re not completely alone with nothing but your thoughts to accompany you.

Except, of course, if you’re me.

Today was just another day at the lab. Testing some animals, looking at the molecular structure of different compounds, all that stuff. I guess if you count the animals in, I’m technically not alone, but frogs don’t really provide the best companionship. They just hop around and croak occasionally. Not exactly the lively conversational atmosphere-providers I needed.

Pouring some extract into a test tube filled with a transparent liquid, I watched as it turned a dark purple, becoming opaque – a negative result. A sigh escaped my parted lips as I removed my goggles and gloves and collapsed onto the chair behind me. It had been 14 days since I’d begun my stay here and nothing. Each test yielded nothing, one after another. As a consequence, an array of test tubes, coloured purple to blue, decorated the laboratory bench. None with the light-yellow result I was looking for.

It was a long shot, to look for evidence indirectly related to what I was seeking. But it was better than nothing.

By the time I rose from my chair, the sun had moved across half the sky, now nearing the horizon, which had turned the colour of fire. I cleared out of the lab, making sure to switch all the main lights off while leaving the ones in the enclosures to cycle through their normal day-night cycle programming. The night was approaching quickly and I would do well to hurry back to my place. Sealing the lab doors, I walked through the tunnels of the complex until I reached my living quarters. The comforting scent of home hit my nose once I passed through the set of double doors, relief flooding my veins after a long day. Tossing my jacket on the coat stand, I sat down on one of the few armchairs I had brought with me, breathing out a long sigh.

I was tired. So tired. And after two thousand years of being alive, I was beginning to get tired of living.

Various pictures were scattered across the walls of my small temporary apartment, each depicting something different. In one, a painting of a young man dressed in 18th century garments stared out through the canvas, a confident expression on his face. In another, a few decayed scraps of cloth were pasted in the centre of the frame, accompanied by a small tag which read “Remains of a tunic from ~8 A.D., preserved in ash.” The others held a variety of surprises, some of which not an insignificant amount of people would have considered intriguing.

I gazed at the one closest to me, which held an artwork done in my likeness from a street artist I had met in 1988. One of the few kind strangers I had met when travelling through the cities that lined the west shoreline, his skill captured a part of me that some others had failed to notice. I later learned that the area which I had passed through had been demolished to make way for a mall and the inhabitants of the previous street driven away. At the time, I had thought nothing of it, but looking back a painful twang within my chest reminded me of how much beauty each life could bring into the world.

Recollections of each of the most recent centuries swam through my mind as I lazed on the chair. A stint with pirates that I had in the 8th century, a time when I had a rebellious streak during the 17th and the wars along the Gulf which I had all witnessed. I had never been in two places at once, but I had had the means to travel and that had been more than enough.

Still, none of these memories or experiences would explain my earliest. Digging into the last place in my mind where neurons fired signals to encode a memory two millennia ago, I closed my eyes and let it overtake me from within.

*

Coldness. Darkness. Then a sudden heat. Light shining on me, filtering through my eyelids to blare into my retinas. A sudden comprehension of my surroundings and the fact that I was lying on rough ground. A look around that led me to establish I was in a cave, exposed to the elements yet somewhat sheltered from them. And the morning sun had just reached deep enough into it to wake me.

I stumbled out of it groggily, clad in nothing but a loincloth. The sunlight felt hot on my skin, different from the gentle warmth I had experienced the last time I had come down here. There was nobody about, the few paths visible empty. Following them only seemed to lead me to dead ends, though one eventually brought me to a village which had a few inhabitants. Quick conversation with them revealed something far more shocking: the place where I had last died was gone, as if it never existed. Everything had been wiped clean, like the universe had randomised a new slate into existence and placed it over the old one without a care.

Suddenly I was the mistake, the one that was out of place. Wherever I went, no one seemed to recognise me. Maybe it was the sudden lack of my abilities, or maybe it was the fact that I suddenly looked vastly different from before. There was a noticeable lack of…well, any knowledge of what had existed prior. Everything wiped clean and replaced with something or someone new.

That is, except me.

What went wrong?

*

The memory fizzled into thin air as I opened my eyes once more. There wasn’t much after that I did remember. As the years turned into decades and centuries, more and more of the first days was lost to the passage of time. Not only that, the precious few memories that I had had slipped away gradually, leaving me with less and less of my past. I couldn’t keep track of how many times I had escaped death, only to end up somewhere else again with even less to work with. Only two things stayed with me: the very first memory of the first days and a burning desire to find out what had happened.

The only problem was that as I got further and further away from that point in time, it became more difficult to pinpoint what exactly had happened.

There was a knock on the door.

I looked at the door, puzzled. I hadn’t been expecting anyone. More than that, who would know how to make their way to this island in the middle of nowhere? Thoughts rushed through my mind, flashing from a serial killer to someone several ranks above me. Was I going to get fired? I hoped not.

“Who is it?” I called out, before smacking myself in the head. No way they could hear me through a set of double doors.

But a man’s voice rang loud and clear as if there was nothing that separated us. “It’s Michael.”

“I don’t know any Michael.” I replied. A chill crawled up my spine as I watched the figure behind the set of doors shuffle.

“Trust me, you do.” There was a tone in which voice which rang within my skull in a peculiar way. “It’s been a while since we last met, but if you open the doors, I’m sure everything will come back to you.”

I sat frozen in my seat for a few moments. Then, slowly, I got up from my seat and made my way over to the panel next to the door. Hesitating for a few moments, I pushed the button. The doors began opening with a quiet hiss, revealing the person standing behind them. I steeled myself for whomever had arrived, preparing for it to be an old acquaintance that I had conveniently forgotten about.

Instead, a familiar face stood in front of me, a pair of kind eyes meeting my gaze. A smartly dressed man clad in a grey business suit, tie and all, with both hands in his pockets and an apologetic smile on his face,

There was a moment where I felt like the truth was staring me in the face. Where the weight of the world was about to crash down upon me, suspended by a spider-thin thread. And then the memories returned.

Michael grabbed my arm, steadying me as my legs turned to jelly and my knees faltered. “Here. Let’s get you over to the chair.”

“W-what…who are you? And how do you…how did you…” The words spilled from my mouth in incoherent babbles. “How…”

“I’m Michael. You remember me.” Michael gave me a warm smile. “Is the rest back?”

“Um…kind of.” I struggled not to slur my words. My head was still spinning slightly, centuries of memories back in a second.

“Here.” Michael laid a palm on my wrist. A gentle glow appeared, casting a warmth across my skin, then disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. My dizziness disappeared soon after, leaving me feeling as if I had just woken up from a good nap.

“Glad the healing powers still exist.” Michael got up, walking around the room slowly. “Do you remember everything now?”

“Not really.” My mind was still piecing everything together. “The First Days – oh wait, you probably don’t know that…”

“You haven’t remembered those for the last 150 cycles.” Michael interjected, to a surprised expression from me. “I know. I remember.”

I stared at him with an uncomprehending look. I was not even close to understanding.

“Surely I don’t look that different?” He chuckled. “I know I used to have wings, but in this day and age, it’s a bit of stretch.”

“Wings?” My eyes widened. “Wait. I…I remember.”

“Yes.” That same smile again, only now much more familiar. “It’s been a while, My Lord.”

*

“How long has it been?” I asked him.

Michael was flipping through different tabs on his phone while conversing with me seamlessly. “Not less than 380 years, I think. It’s hard to keep track. Sometimes they print the calendars wrongly. Sometimes a temporal anomaly crops up.”

“But I’m unaffected, right?”

“Yes. As I am. Sadly, the other angels were not immune.” Michael paused for a moment. Sadness filled the air around us for a brief moment. “As were the archangels.”

“You miss them.” I said.

“Yes.” His eyes seemed watery. “But those are matters past. What matters is now.”

“Indeed.” I cleared my throat, turning to face him. “So, I take it this is your…tricentennial check-up on me, then?”

“Not quite.” Michael locked his phone, shoving it in his pocket. “This time, there’s been a complication.”

“What sort of complication?”

Michael shifted uncomfortably. His expression darkened. “Your father is gone.”

“My father?” The words sounded familiar, but I couldn’t recall anything associated with them.

“God. The Lord himself. His Great…have you forgotten?”

“I might have.” Try as I might, my internal searching returned no results.

“Okay. Start from the most recent one and work your way backwards. The last time we met…”

A train rushing by, papers scattering all over the floor, flustered passengers picking up their items. One man that stood out through the crowd, smiling at me before giving a friendly wave. “Britain.”

“That’s right. And the time before…”

This time, it came faster. A hodgepodge of bushes, houses made of logs clobbered together with rusty nails, a town that hosted less than 80 people, dust storms. “The American Midwest.”

“Correct. Your memory seems good so far. Now, try to reach back all the way, to the first time we met.”

Silence. For a moment, there was nothing. Then…

A man wrapped in robes approaches me as I give the horse its daily feed. “My Lord,” he says. “How have you been?”

“Michael?” My eyes widen as I demand of him, “What happened? Why does no one remember us?”

“I’m afraid I may not have the answer to that, My Lord. Only more questions await you in my stead.” He speaks with calmness, yet I sense urgency in his voice.

“Your father has disappeared. Heaven and Hell, gone as if they never existed. What remains of the heavenly realm is merely a remnant of its previous glory. When the tremor occurred, I was on Earth tending to an old lady’s prayer. As soon as I returned, there was nothing, only greyness, a small table and a note on it. Inside, it was written that your father had departed for a purpose as of yet unknown. There was nothing else there.”

“Did he give you any further details? My father would surely not leave one of his most trusted angels in the dark.”

“None. I have tried, but nothing remains of Heaven other than that space. I cannot connect with Raphael or Gabriel either. I fear for them, for they might have been caught up in the tremors.”

It is the first time I have heard emotion from Michael. His voice wavers when he speaks about his brothers and tears come to his eyes. His jaw trembles slightly as he speaks their names and his demeanour changes. He knows something has gone wrong, as do I. What we do not know is what and how.

“What are our options then, Michael?” I ask him.

“Simply to wait and see, My Lord.” The archangel bows. “I will venture out into the corners of the universe to see what can be gleamed from them, but I am afraid nothing may come of my journey. In the meantime, perhaps you should stay here and tend to your people.”

“I have no powers. I cannot do anything out of the ordinary.” I tell Michael, to his surprise. His expression is one of shock. “I am stuck here, as mortal as the rest of them.”

“Yet I still sense divinity within you.” He replies after a moment. “Perhaps it would be prudent to try and investigate anything that can be.”

“Very well.” I say. “Be on your way then. We shall meet again, I hope?”

“Indeed, although it may be out of necessity.” Michael stoops to place something at my feet, a small parcel wrapped in cloth. “Till next time, My Lord.”

“Safe travels, my friend.” I watch as he turns to walk away, his silhouette disappearing into the haze of the heat. Reaching down, I pick up the parcel, removing it from its cloth packaging.

I may be mistaken. But it looks a lot like a chunk of the sky.

I gasp as my bearings return. Michael’s concerned eyes peer into mine as I take deep breaths, regaining my composure. Outside, the stars of the night sky shine, though not outshone by the moon.

“I remember.” I said after catching my breath. “Is it true? Everyone’s gone?”

“Yes. Except your father, whose fate has remained undetermined all this while.” Michael removed a piece of paper from his pocket and placed it on the table in front of me. “Until now.”

I stared at the paper. Suddenly surprises didn’t feel so fun.

Gently, I reached out and took it, opening it with two fingers. Inside, the letters, ‘h’, ‘e’ and ‘l’ were scrawled across it in a scribble, like someone had written it down in a hurry. The fourth letter was partially obscured by what seemed like…blood?

“Is this…his blood?” I looked at Michael. Worry creased his brow.

“I cannot be certain, but we have to assume the worst.” His words, although spoken with a gentle tone, cut through the atmosphere like ice with their gravity. “I don’t want to think about it either, but I have no choice.”

“What are our options then?” An instant of déjà vu. For a moment, I was back in Jerusalem, tending to the horses as Michael stood in front of me, wrapped in cotton robes.

“There’s only one way to find out.” Michael looked directly into my eyes. As I watched, six wings phased through the back of his suit, expanding to about two metres in length. Michael glanced back, flexing them once. A uniform, cream-coloured glow came to them, along with a light shower of angelic feathers.

He looked back at me, this time with conviction. “It’s time to go, my Lord.”

[theolddarkmachine]

Kingdom- Ch 8

Gajeel has had the dream about dying for the blue haired girl for as long as he can remember. Which is weird, since he’s never met anyone with blue hair in his life.

Levy has always loved myths and legends. So much so, in fact, that she was currently getting her master’s in mythological studies.

What neither of them realized was that they were living a legend all their own.

AKA the one with a knight, a princess, and a curse that keeps bringing them together just to pull them apart.

PREVIOUS CHAPTERS

AO3

Commission by Blue

WOOHOOOOO NOVEMBER UPDATE IS UP! Again, I feel I need to apologize for cutting back so much on updates during the holidays. It was necessary though because I definitely needed to focus on the 12 Days of ODM. AAAAND even better news, it’s paying off because 7 out of 12 are completed!

I hope that you find this update worth it. Actual notes in my notebook about this chapter: This is the step before the top of the rollercoaster hill.

So I’m hoping y'all are starting to get that feeling right before the coaster pitches ya over the hill, cuz that’s where we’re at lol Friendly reminder this is still on a semi-hiatus while I work on 12 Days of ODM and SS stuff. Next update will be some time in December once those are done. Then we return to weekly updates :)

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

Consciousness crested over Gajeel like an incoming tide, ebbing over his body slowly like waves until he was wholly aware of the light painting the backs of his eyelids red and the cool dampness of a cloth across his forehead. A thick fog was still working his way through his mind, accompanied by a manufactured silence that did nothing to sooth the sudden spike of her nerves. How did he get there? Just a moment before he was certain he’d been speaking with Lily.

And then—

His gasp was a sharp intake that tore through his throat and chest like a beast as he sat upright, knocking the cooled fabric from his forehead to his lap as his eyes flew open.

It was real.

The dream and all its reoccurrences, hadn’t been a creation of his own imagination, but memories of a life he’d once lived. This time, instead of the all too familiar darkness that he had grown accustomed to, he’d been met with vivid images of a king, of an order, and of the beautiful blue haired woman that he’d fallen in love with. He could almost still feel the weight of her head on his chest. Could still taste her on his tongue. She had been his.

And if that was the truth, he had also died. In fact, he had died for her.

Save her.

Gajeel’s hand shook as he ran it through his hair, a small, nervous sound escaping him as his mind raced to accept the impossible nature of it all. Somehow, he was the knight that had appeared before him in his bathroom.

Somehow, he had died.

Though the certainty of the truth was crackling in his veins like a lightning storm, he was still unsure of the nature that had caused it to be so. Even now, as he tried to reach the memory of his death, he was met by a wall that stopped any progress.

With an aggravated huff, Gajeel grabbed the cloth from his lap and threw it across the room, ignoring the wet slap of the fabric against the wall. He needed answers. Needed to find the end to the maze the stood between him and the explanation as to how he had lived a life centuries ago.

A small cough dragged him back from the brink of his entangled thoughts as he turned towards the sound, only to see Lily sitting in a chair that he’d set next to the couch. His corded arms were crossed over his chest as he looked over his adopted brother, an eyebrow raised as he appraised him. As if he had any right to scrutinize.

I’m sorry, Gajeel.

The sharp sting of betrayal wore a blunt hole in his chest as he returned the stare. In all the years that they had known each other, and all the times they’d spoken of the strange dream, Lily had never said anything. Instead, he’d offered false explanations and possibilities all the while holding the truth behind the recurrent vision close.

“How long have you known?” Gajeel asked, the question burning his throat with the acidic suspicion that dripped from every word. Lily held his glare, meeting it with one of unabashed honesty. Before him sat the best friend and brother he had grown to know, and yet they sat regarding each other like strangers. There was a moment’s pause before lily sighed, the very breath leaving in one long rush of sound that seemed to deflate him.

“I’ve always known, Gajeel,” he said, not looking away as he kept his voice steady. It was the same pitch and even cadence that one might use when speaking to a wild animal. Gajeel wondered if Lily thought he might bite.

Hell, he wondered the same.

They continued to regard each other, a hundred questions flinging themselves silently into the ever growing distance that seemed to carve deeper and further between them. It was as his gaze danced over his adopted brother in an attempt to pull the answers straight from his head, that he noticed the bruise like shadows that had etched themselves under his eyes.

‘’We’re protectors, me and my family,” Lily began to speak again once he realized Gajeel wasn’t going to ask another question. As much as he wanted to, he didn’t even know where to start. How was he even supposed to begin to ask the man before him to unravel the lies that had made up the fabric of his life? Even if Gajeel himself knew which thread to begin to pull, he wasn’t even sure he would. The sharp tang of fear coated the back of his tongue at the mere thought of confirming what he already knew.

Everything he knew was a lie.

“Liam was the first. He’d been best friends with the Black Dragon, son of the Iron Dragon.” His voice was almost dream like as he spoke, reciting the words like an all too familiar mantra that had been told to him over and over again. Lily’s eyes glinted in the light as they flashed upwards toward his face.

“With you,” he rectified. “He had been a stableboy at the castle, and you had saved him from some boys that thought their status set them above him. Which, while true, didn’t seem to bother you much.”

A dark chuckle escaped him as he shook his head, the weight of the tale apparent in the way his shoulders dipped.

“But then the king ordered you to leave. To protect a woman without any knowledge of who she was, only that you must keep her safe. Thing was, he didn’t plan on you falling in love. At least, as far as the story goes.” Lily shrugged before he leant forward, forearms bracing over his knees as his onyx eyes searched Gajeel’s crimson as if in search of something.

Something that would expose any familiarity to the memories that belonged to him, told from side of someone that didn’t live them. Yet the only recognition he could find, was hidden in the light blue hair that had haunted his dreams, pulled him in front of a vehicle, and splayed across his pillow.

“Bits and pieces of the tale have been lost in translation and changed so much over time that I can’t tell you how it happened, but you both ended up cursed.”

Gajeel felt the breath catch in his chest, the suddenness of it opening a burning hole behind his sternum. Almost as soon as Lily had spoken the word, he knew recalled the sharp sound of bitter laughter and the oppressive weight as darkness had descended on him, only punctuated by the searing pain in his chest.

“What was the curse?” He asked, voice a barely above a whisper as he tried to speak over the stone that had cut off his breath. Gajeel watched as Lily sighed, bringing both his hands up towards his hair and carding his fingers through it, pausing momentarily with his head held up by his palms. It wasn’t until he looked back up that he answered.

“To relive finding each other, only to lose one another again.”

Unease opened up in his gut like a beast freed of shackles, tearing into the soft flesh with the intent to destroy. His dreams had always pointed him towards love. As his consciousness had faded away into what he now knew was death, his last thoughts were always of golden eyes and sky filled hair. The ill omen had even disguised itself in the mirror vision, those two haunting words falling from his doppleganger’s lips as his ruby stare cut through him.

Save her.

Only now, he heard the edge of the words that gave them a darker, more sinister feel. Save her, but at what cost?

How many times had he saved her, and died in the process?

Had he ever even saved her at all?

Gajeel pushed the aching throb in his throat down just long enough to get out his next words, already knowing their answer but needing to hear it anyway. It wouldn’t be real until he heard it. Shuffling where he sat so that he was now turned fully towards Lily so he could fix him with his unwavering gaze, he bit out the only question that mattered.

“Is it Levy?”

Time stopped around them, its constant movement stalled by the simple question. He felt the weight of it, crushing down around his shoulders as the images from the dream beat against the inside of his skull. Her hands. Her lips. The softness of her in his arms. Fear as it corroded his veins. Pain, as it tore the very life from within him.

What was mere seconds had opened up into an endless stasis in which the only things left moving were Gajeel’s innermost thoughts and Lily’s downturning mouth.

With his heart hammering a dent into the back of his ribs, he waited for the answer that would be the nail in his own coffin. When they finally came, they were filled with the same rasp of a man taking his final breath.

“Yes. And she will kill you.”

***

Levy jolted from the dream as if she’d been shocked from the depths of her slumber by an unseen force that ran an electric current through her body. Her skin was heated and flushed as she worked to catch her breath, somehow lost to her as if she’d been running instead of sleeping with her cheek pressed against the cool surface of her desk. Even her throat ached, as if it had been torn with the screams that had filled her dream.

The experience had been harrowing, one moment she was in her room and the next she had been swallowed into an inky darkness before finding herself thrust into the foreign feel of her own body.

Only, it wasn’t really her body.

She had found herself a spectator while trapped within the confines of her imagined self, watching the love story between the maiden and the knight play out before her eyes. Levy had watched as Gajeel’s eyes had softened as he’d looked at her. Seen the way his careful touches became caresses that evolved into so much more. She’d even felt the ever present growth of a new star trapped behind her ribs each time she had returned the affections.

Everything had been good, and pure, and light.

Then Levy watched as it became corrupted and twisted, the pain of it too much to bear as the dream faded from scene to scene until the finale, where she was clutching Gajeel to her chest as blood rushed from a gaping wound in his chest. The aching throb of her anguish was only amplified when she realized that the dagger that had dealt the fatal wound was clutched within her fist.

It had been the sinister glint of the light on the blade that had sent her reeling through whatever darkness had pulled her into the dream in the first place and dropped her back into the real world. Gulping down large breaths, Levy pulled both of her hands through her hair in a failed attempt at collecting herself.

With her heart still stuttering, she looked down at the book that still lay open before her, the painted pictures pointed upwards to the sky in a frozen scene from the dream. A small hiss escaped her as she slammed the cover shut before pushing herself away from the desk. Dropping her head against the back of her chair, Levy squeezed her eyes shut as she pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers.

There’s a perfectly good explanation for this, she thought to herself, desperately clutching at rationality to keep herself afloat.

It was pure coincidence that Levy had made a connection between her and the blue haired woman in the book, and Gajeel and the night. He had been an object of her attention for long enough that it only made sense her mind would find similarities where there weren’t any. After all, it was one thing to believe the stories she studied could have actually happened. It was another entirely to be living one.

Yet, it had all felt real. So real that Levy could still smell the greenery that had surrounded the hut that they’d lived in. Could still hear his words as they’d caressed the shell of her ear while he had exchanged his own stories with her. She could even still feel the heat of him from where he’d lay dying in her arms.

There was no way the dream had really been her memories.

And yet—

Three sharp raps against her door shook her of the impossible thoughts that were swirling in and around her mind like fog. Feet rubbing over the carpet of her floor, Levy pulled herself towards the knocking that sounded again, impatiently again as it repeated its sharp cadence. She wasn’t expecting anyone, but one guess would place Lucy on the other side of the door. Most likely, she’d be standing there looking sheepish, as if she hadn’t left Levy completely wasted at a bar.

If her brain wasn’t in the middle of liquifying, she would probably make Lucy work for her forgiveness. Be that as it may, she no longer had it in her to fight over what was considered abandonment with her best friend. All she wanted were answers that the blonde would not be able to give her.

“Look, Luce, you’re already forgiven,” she spoke as she flung the door open only to find the words sticking to the inside of her throat as she realized that the person on the other side was not her best friend. Where crystalline blue eyes should have been looking down at her, instead, she was only met by an endless pool of violet.

Levy exhaled a short, surprised noise between her teeth before she spoke.

“Hi, Aunt Kearia.”

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

[abewoodhullturncoat]

100 Asks Answered:

The meaning behind my url:  abewoodhullturncoat... Abraham Woodhull was a turncoat so I mean, it did not take much to come up with that one.

A picture of me: will post one soon.

How many tattoos i have and what they are:  One! A large treble clef in honor of my love for music.

Last time i cried and why: I do not cry often, as I was raised to believe a guy has no right to cry and it makes him weak,  but I cried just last night... When I realized I’ve forgotten the sound of my uncles voice. He passed around 7 years ago. 

Favorite band: I have an eclectic taste in music, so I couldn’t tell you for certain.

Biggest turn offs:  Pretentiousness, number one by far.  Also people who drop hints instead of asking for something, game-playing instead of being direct, and braggarts. -I don’t want to remove this because I share much the same sentiment. But I do wish to add that another turn off is the automatic judgment that a person put on someone before truly getting to know someone.

Top 5 (insert subject): Top five Ice Cream Flavors: Superman, Mint Chocolate Chip, Cookie Dough, Vanilla, and Birthday Cake.  

Tattoos i want: Something really cool that would be really... Me. Historical, I’d reckon. As my love for history is a big part of me.

Biggest turn ons: A mind of their own and a voice to speak it. Quick wit and a voice to impart it. A taste for romance. Easy conversation. A taste for fine literature doesn’t hurt.

Age: Over 21. (My birthday is October 3rd if you actually read this.)

Ideas of a perfect date: Sitting in front of a fire, on the couch. Whoever the date may be with beside me, reading books together or maybe watching a film? I’d cook her dinner. Dessert. And maybe if she permitted, I’d take her to her home and give her a romantic kiss on the doorstep.

Life goal: Travel to all of the American Historical sights

Piercings i want: None

Relationship status: Single

Favorite movie: The Labyrinth or FBAWTFT

A fact about my life:  I’m a huge history geek.

Phobia: Of being disliked.

.Height: 5'11"

Are you a virgin?   Um... Yes. Much to awkward to get a date. Let alone a proper good shag. 

What is your shoe size?  11

What’s your sexual orientation? Straight. 

Do you smoke, drink, or take any drugs?   I have drank in the past, but I refrain lately because it would mess with my anti-depressants

Someone you miss: My Uncle.

What’s one thing you regret?  My not working harder to accomplish necessary things. 

First celebrity you think of when someone says attractive:  Heather Lind, my goddess.

Favorite ice cream?  Mint Chocolate

One insecurity: Myself as a whole. 

What my last text message says:  I actually haven’t texted anyone since I got the phone really, but it was a text to my mum. Asking how she was. She spends a lot of time in the hospital due to her diabetes.

Have you ever kissed a member of the same sex? No.

Have you ever slept naked?   Yes

Have you ever stole money from a friend?  No

Have you ever gotten in a car with people you just met?  Yes

Have you ever been in a fist fight?  Yes. Protecting my youngest brother from a group of people who loured him out of the house. I had an uneasy feeling when a friend of mine had refused to allow me to follow. Turns out that I made the right decision. They intended to beat the hell out of my brother, who has epilepsy and he’s too afraid to fight back. And the reason was because he was gay. They had no right to go after him, so I stepped in.

Have you ever had feelings for someone who didn’t have them back?  Yeah

Have you ever been arrested?  No

Have you ever made out with a stranger?  Yes

Have you ever laid on your back and watched cloud shapes go by?  Yes

Have you ever been lonely?  Yes

Have you ever been to a club?  Once, and I was so very awkward. I went out on the dance floor and sort of just stood there while my friends just sat there... Grinding against me. I guess that’s part of being the only guy friend willing to hang out with the ladies.

Have you ever felt an earthquake?  Nope. But I was in a hurricane and a tornado before.

Have you ever touched a snake?  Aye.

Have you ever ran a red light?  Yes

Have you ever been in a car accident?   No

Have you ever cried yourself to sleep? The night my uncle died.

Have you ever sang karaoke?  Oh yes.

Have you ever done something you told yourself you wouldn’t?   Mhmm. I call it, “Living.”

Have you ever laughed until something you were drinking came out your nose?  It was at a fancy dinner. Root-beer out the nose.

Have you ever slept with someone at least 5 years older or younger?   No

Have you ever dreamed that you married someone?   No

Have you ever got your tongue stuck to a flag pole?  Ah, yes. Actually. To be young and stupid and willing to do anything for money.

Have you ever ever gone to school partially naked?  Ah... No.

Have you ever brushed your teeth?   Dude... Yes.

Have you ever been too scared to watch scary movies alone?  Nope.

Have you ever been pushed into a pool with all your clothes on?  Yes 

Have you ever been told you’re hot by a complete stranger?  Nope

Have you ever broken a bone?  In my right leg, yeah.

Have you ever been easily amused? Due to my own immaturity.

Have you ever laughed so hard you cried?  Many times

Have you ever mooned/flashed someone?  No

Have you ever forgotten someone’s name?   Yes

Give us one thing about you that no one knows: I  am so overly romantic that it is slightly ridiculous.

What was your last dream?  I haven’t the faintest idea. I’ve forgotten.

Would you be up for interplanetary travel if it was a thing?  Heck yeah. 

If you could travel back in time, where would you go? I would go back and fight with Washington and his men. Win the war. Make history.

Do you dread doctor visits or do they not bother you? I don’t dread them at all.

Favorite fashion decade of the twentieth century?  Fashion is not my strong suit. I’d just as soon bring back the breeches and waistcoats, and the courtships of the 1700′s

Are you wearing nail polish and if so, what color? Now I’m confident in my sexuality but myself in nail polish is not going to happen.

Are you into working out or no? Yep.

Do you have a temper?   No

Do you have one item you treat yourself with, if so, what is it? Rolllllleeeeplay.

Do you eat meat?  Yes

If yes, how do you like it cooked?  enough

Ever had a boss or a teacher you absolutely hated?  No.

Coffee, tea, or hot chocolate?  Hot Chocolate.

Do you wear makeup?  Nope.

If you wear perfume, what’s your scent type/favorite fragrance?  I’m a basic guy. Old Spice usually. But I do like Drakkar.

Do you have a girl crush?  Yes

Candles, wax melts, or incense?  Incense.

Favorite season of the year?  Winter.

Fanfic—do you prefer smut or fluff?   Smut

Do you like taking selfies?  Why or why not?  I mean, I take selfies. But I do not have myself convinced that I am God’s gift to women.

Do you want children? Not sure yet.

Do you prefer lots of friends or just a few good friends?  Just a few, not interested in crowds of pseudo-friends

Introvert or extrovert, or mixture of both?  Mixture

Ocean/beach or mountains?  Ocean, if it’s cold, cloudy, and the water is wild and gray.  Otherwise mountains.

Morning person or night person?  Both.

Do you initiate conversations with strangers?  Yes

Milk or dark chocolate? Milk chocolate is my secret weakness.

What do you post on your blog? Role play mostly.

Is it hard for you to apologize when you’re in the wrong?   I have no issue apologizing whether I am wrong or right.

Love at first sight?  Sometimes.

Best/funniest Halloween memory?  I was Jareth the Goblin King one year. Being recognized was great. But then the next year I was Westley from the Princess Bride and I scored myself a date at the very same halloween party.

Did your first crush work out or was it unrequited?  Unrequited of course.

Do you like old movies—and by old, I mean OLD old?  Yes

Do you tan or burn?  Both.

Do you think people deserve second chances?  Generally yes.  Hard to say no considering how many times I’ve fucked up.  But child molesters, that kind of thing–hell no. - Agreed sentiment, honestly.

What animal would be cutest if scaled down to the size of a cat?   Me, probably.

Do you have any weird food likes/dislikes? I hate fish and seafood in general. But I was introduced to ranch on hot dogs and I sorta dig it.

.What’s the funniest real person’s name you’ve ever heard? John Jacob Jefferson Schmidt.

I was tagged by @greenofallshades

@annastrxng @nellyforrevolution @bennjamintallmadge

and anyone else who wants to do it can. You can switch out questions if you wish, as long as there ends up being one hundred. Or about that.