#'you kept henry in that lab. with the children. was that for our good? was that a right choice?' & THE VICTIM BLAMING RIGHT AFTER

[bylertruther]

the rod imagery is fucking awful and makes me want to drive one through my own head but like. but like........... good lord i tell you what brother it absolutely does fuck SEVERELY every time 😔🫡

#like. HELLO. AND THE FACT THAT IT /IS/ HENRY THAT HE /IS/ THE ROD..... BECAUSE THE ROD IMAGERY ALWAYS APPEARS RIGHT #BEFORE HE MAKES HIS APPEARANCE INVADING WILL'S MIND .............. WOOF WOOF GRRRRRRRRR BITING AND RIPPING #AND HENRY'S INSISTENCE WITH BEING A PREDATOR...... THE SHADOW PARTICLES GIVING HIM THE MEANS TO BE ONE... #'you kept henry in that lab. with the children. was that for our good? was that a right choice?' & THE VICTIM BLAMING RIGHT AFTER #AND WHEN SHE MENTIONS THE MIND FLAYER WE LITERALLY GET THE FLASHBACK OF WILL BEING INVADED #i don't understand how people say it's subtext when we literally see all this shit happen on our screen like. hello. #i just. #the rod........ phineas gage.... it always goes straight through will's head.... henry is literally in his head 24/7.... i'm going insane #they did their thing with that one. #@ross @matthew i'm eating one of alice in wonderland's magic snacks n shrinking myself so tht i can crawl my way to ur brain thru ur ears. #rape tw #csa tw

[edb954]

Back to you/The Banshee

(Henry/001/Peter x Fem! reader)

(Summary: where the reader has the banshee scream/is a banshee but, doesn't know exactly what she is, starts working at the lab as a nurse and finds comfort in an old friends arms)

(Warning: death, mentions of death, obsessive behaviour, gore, long chapter)

  When Y/n first started at the lab she hoped nobody would know her secret that she had 'voices' in her head. That unpredictably predicted death. She never knew how or why.

   She remembered predicting her Grandmothers death and letting out a Earth wrenching scream but, her parents didn't believe her. Until, two nights later when they got a call from the EMT saying she had passed two days earlier. You were only six at the time. The more you thought about it, it happened with anyone you knew. Like, your old neighbours the Creel's. You were particularly very close with their son Henry. You were eleven at the time a year younger the Henry.

  The Creel's had just moved in about a week ago, when your parents informed you that you were moving in a couple of months. Henry and you got along well being strangely different from anyone in the family. He knew about your secret and you knew about his. You weren't going to lie, you didn't like him at first he was quite rude but then you somehow chipped away at his wall and he let you in.

  You remember the week before you left, you had met Henry in their garden saying how much you didn't want to leave particularly because of him. Little did you know he was furious that you were being taken away from him. That was the last day you saw him. The 'voices' in your head telling you to stay away from him. The last night, before you moved you had that feeling and your wrenching scream came blaring through the house shattering the lights and window in your room. Your parents scolded you. You told them what was going to happen and yet again they didn't believe you.

  Only to wake up the next morning, to an ambulance and a police car outside the Creel's house. Alice, Virginia, and Henry Creel found dead with their father/husband Victor alive. You spent that day wailing at the lost of your friend. That same day you left.

  During your years growing up your parents had put you into a psych hospital and sent you to many therapists. They all said that it was just a coincidence and said their was nothing the could do. Your father started to get agressive with you while your mother would be at work or asleep in the next room. When you were 18 years old you took as much money as you could from your parents and that you had saved and ran away to start a life that you wanted. You were already an adult so they couldn't stop you. You went back to Hawkins got a job met wonderful people like Hopper and Joyce who became your friends especially Joyce. You soon were able to rent and buy a tiny house and at the age of 25 you got a new job working at Hawkins Lab as a nurse.

  Once, you started working at the lab you met the kindest and not to mention good looking orderly 'Peter Ballard'.

"Ah! Peter I would like you to meet our new nurse Ms. Y/n L/n. And Ms. L/n this is Peter Ballard." Brenner introduced you both. 'Peter' looked over remembering that name- remembering you.

"It's nice to meet you." You smiled and stock out your hand.

"It's nice to meet you as well." He shock your hand, not wanting to let it go. But quickly went back to his position behind Brenner.

"Now Ms.L/n if you need anything we will be around so don't stray to ask." Brenner said before leaving the infirmary.

"Of course sir." You replied. And with that 'Peter' and Brenner left.

  Since that day, you always saw 'Peter' he would come check up on you and would always bring the children to you. You both got to know each other very well, almost like you've known each other for years.

  Henry couldn't believe it was you. He-you had actually found him, he kept a close eye on you as much as possible. Seeing how much you've grown and change, he always tried to be around. Taking the children to you , coming to see you during his breaks. He realised that he had missed you. He remembers that night hearing your screams from the attic, he knew that you knew what he was about to do. Someday you would understand and someday it would just be you and him once again.

   A few months later, and it happened again one of the children had passed. The scream that would make everyone's and anyone's ear bleed. You had tried to tame it so badly which had caused you to start hyperventilating.

"Y/n breath tell me what's going on." Henry tried to calm her.

"It's like it's on the tip of my tongue and I don't know how to trigger it... I swear to god.,. it literally makes me want to scream... I-I promised it wouldn't happen here.." you said, freaking out, shaking,

"Come with me.."

  Henry grabbed your arm and started taking you to a different place but it was to late.  The blood curdling scream, broke breaking the lights making Henry cover his ears, as well as everybody else in the lab. After it was over you fell and passed out in Henry's arms. But, Their was another person in the hall with you and Henry. The one neither of you wanted to face. Dr. Brenner.

  Brenner had never heard anything like it. The more he started to think about it he had heard of the term banshee before but, he had never expected to come across one. Let alone one of his employees. He read the words very carefully.

Banshee: a female spirit whose wailing warns of an impending death in a house.

  You had predicted the death of one of the children. After, you had passed out he sent you to the infirmary and had you on the medical table with wires all over you. When you woke up, you started to freak out.

"It's okay Ms.L/n, this will help." The one doctor said.

   While holding a needle to your throat, you grabbed his hand, sitting up. "Y/n.. DONT!" You heard a voice yell and with that letting out your scream. Breaking lights once again making the needle shatter and the doctors ear bleed making him pass out. You fell back onto the table tears streaming down your face.

"Unbelievable... you have no idea what you are do you?... The wailing women... a banshee.. right before my eyes." You heard and slowly turned around to see Dr.Brenner.

"W-what do you mean?" Y/n asked.

"We will talk more about it tomorrow. Get some rest Ms. L/n... i will make sure nobody tries that again.." and with that Brenner left.

He left you with your thoughts. What was a banshee? Was she one? What did Dr.Brenner mean? How did he know what you were?

"How are you feeling?" A voice knocked you out of your thoughts. You quickly sat up only to see 'Peter'. " I apologize didn't mean to scare you."

"Uh.. n-no it's fine. I-im sorry for what happened be-before." You said as you looked away ashamed.

"It's quite alright. Its not the first time it's happened I'm sure." He replied.

"I-uh.. no.. no it's not the first time.. h-how did you kn- you know what actually never mind.."

"How are you feeling?" He asked again.

"Throats a bit soar but I'm fine.. just tired." You replied, you could have swore you saw a faint smile fall onto his lips.

"Well I will let you get some rest. Goodnight." He said before getting up and walking towards the exit.

"Goodnight, Peter.." You said, before drifting off to sleep as the exhaustion you felt consumed you.

Once, Y/n fell asleep Henry walked back over he had missed you so.. he brushed a few pieces of hair out of her face, dragging a finger over her features. She had definitely grown into your features.. so beautiful.. before, he left he kissed her forehead while smelling the vanilla conditioner.

"I promise, we will be together again and we fill be free from this hell." With that he left.

  The next day, you were feeling a lot better up until you saw Brenner. He called you into his office.

"Ah, Y/n I'm sure your feeling better." Brenner said.

"Yes, I'm fine." She replied.

"I'm sure, you want to know more about what I meant.." He asked, you looked up and nod.

"Y-yes, more than anything.." She replied. Brenner stood up going over to a shelf and pulling a book out.

"This will tell you. If you have questions you can always come to my office but, your a smart young woman so I think you can figure it out. I also advise you, to stay away from 'Peter'.." "why?"

"I know it may not seem like it Ms.L/n but, 'Peter' is very dangerous.. with that being said we have made your room sound proof so the children won't here when.. you have your episodes.. the rules are still the same and if you have a feeling go to the room. I will be monitoring you while you are here. Do I make myself clear Ms. L/n."

"Y-yes Dr.Brenner."

  With that He handed you the book and dismissed you. You took the book straight to your room. Once, you got to your room, you sat at your desk, took a deep breath, opened the book to the page Brenner had marked, and started to read.

  Banshee;

  A banshee is a female spirit in Irish folklore who heralds the death of a family member, usually by screaming, wailing, shrieking, or keening. Her name is connected to the mythologically important tumuli or "mounds" that dot the Irish countryside, which are known as síde in Old Irish.

  Personality Traits;

  Banshees may seem ghoulish, but they have no record of being violent or even mischievous.

  History;

  A Banshee is said to be a fairy in Irish legend and her scream is believed to be an omen of death. The scream is also called 'caoine' which means 'keening' and is a warning that there will be an imminent death in the family and as the Irish families blended over time, it is said that each family has its own Banshee!

   Their were a million thoughts going through your head at the moment as read and read.

'Am I the only one? Their is one in each family? How did i become one? Is their a reason?' You were so deep into your book and your thoughts. You didn't even here someone had come in.

"How are you feeling?" You jumped at the voice breaking your trance. While you snapped the book shut, turning around to see 'Peter'. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"Peter.. uh um.. it's fine, I'm doing okay." Y/n said cautiously.

"I know.. that Brenner told you to stay away from me..." She looked him for a moment.

"So why are you here?" Y/n asked, turning back to the desk not wanting to deal with him. You heard his footsteps approach you as he kneeled down to your height. Pressing his chest against your back making you tense. "W-why are you doing this?"

"Because, I'm not letting you go.." he whispered.

"Since, when did you have me?" You asked.

"I will tell you tonight if you will let me.." you turned your face to him just realising how close you actually were and nodded.

"Okay.."

  Later that evening, you heard a knock on your door. You opened it, making sure no one saw and let him in.

"So what did you mean?" You asked. He looked at you hesitant. "I promise, I do want to know. I want the truth. Why it feels like I've known you more than just a few months."

"Because, we have known each other for longer ever since you were eleven and I was twelve." You looked at him for a moment. "It's me n/n."

"H-Henry.." you looked into his eyes.

"N-no, that's not possible Henry's gone, his father killed him and the rest of his family.." Before you could say anything else he pulled up his sleeve revealing '001' . He pulled you back down to sit next to him.

"I fell into a coma Y/n. When, I woke up from my coma only to find myself placed in the care of a doctor, the very doctor I had hoped to escape. Dr. Martin Brenner. Papa. But the truth...the truth is he did not just want to study me. He wanted more. He wanted to control. When Papa finally realized he could not control me, he tried to recreate me. He began a program. And soon, others were born." You looked at him.

"I-it's really you.. H-Henry."  Hesitantly placing a hand on his cheek, before smiling and tears coming your eyes. "I can't believe it's actually you.."

  Before you knew it his lips crashed down on to yours. Finally (almost) getting what he wanted was you. Before, either of you knew he was on top of you. You broke away for breathe looking deeply into each other's eyes before, you both leaned in once more. Wasting the rest of the night away reconnecting *wink wink*.

Few weeks later, you both had actually been able to keep your relationship a secret. You both had also been reconnecting more. You telling him everything that has happened during you're time apart. Him sneaking into your room when, everyone else is asleep or had gone home. And tonight was like no other, or so you thought.

"Henry, what happened?" Y/n asked dragging him, making him sit on your bed. While, unbuttoning his shirt knowing full well what happened.

"He doesn't like me getting close to Eleven." Henry replied. You sighed before getting up to get the bandages and saline. Turning back and starting to tend to his wounds.

"I don't mean to pry but, why have you been getting close to eleven?" You asked finishing, tending his last wound.

"I told you, that I was going to get us out of here." "And by using a five year old is away to do that?" You scolded. He grabbed your hand which forced you to look at him.

"I'm not using her.. she just going to help us."

"What about the other children?"

"It would be to dangerous."

"So why does eleven going to help us?"

"I have a chip in my neck.." he said taking your hand and placing it on to the back of his neck were an abnormally bump was. "Brenner calls it 'sortia' it's binds my abilities.. weakens me and tracks me.."

"Your going to have her take it out for you aren't you.." "Yes." You sighed pulling your hand away about to look away before he pulled you back.

"It's going to work. I'm doing this for us." Henry said, caressing your cheek. You hesitantly nodded.

A few days later, Henry's plan was about to be set in motion and you have that feeling.. the feeling the voices before the deaths but this one seemed different it seemed more harder for you to bare. After, Henry left your room that night, you couldn't sleep the voices becoming louder and louder it sound like a thousand people screaming all at once.

The next day, Henry told you to stay in your room. Brenner had let you have the day off from the lack of sleep you had the night before. The voices and the feeling didn't stop, the pressure became to much and you let out your blood curdling scream but this scream was different. When it was over you felt weak, you felt blood running down your faces and tasting the metallic of blood, Barley being able to breath, and spots began to blur your vision. The last thing you heard were people screaming a few feet away from your room and with that you were gone.

Brenner woke up to sirens blaring and blood streaming down his face, he made a call asking what was happening before hearing screaming. He looked around to see everyone dead. There eyes gone bones twisted.. he knew exactly who did this 001/Henry. Then he remembered you remembering what he read in the book he gave you.

'If more than a handful of people die, it could be hundreds or even thousands of people dying. The banshee will be put to rest, ears, eyes bleeding, as well as their mouth.'

He knew the past between you two and maybe you could stop him. He made his way as fast as he could to your room.

Once, Henry finished 002 he made sure eleven had made it out. Nice to know she did. Now he was on his way to you. Passing through all the dead bodies noticing one was missing Brenner. He got to your room as fast as lighting speed. Once he got their he saw you lying on the floor with blood surrounding you and Brenner.

"What did you do to her." Henry asked, as he lifted Brenner off the floor.

"0-001 please. I need to help her.." His grip tightened. "If I don't help her she will die!" Brenner yelled before his airway closed.

"What do you mean or she will die?" Henry asked loosening his powers on Brenner.

"It's what she is.. because of what you have done, it was to much.. she felt all of them.. everyone that you have murdered.. it said that 'If more than a handful of people die, it could be hundreds or even thousands of people dying. The banshee will be put to rest, ears, eyes bleeding, as well as their mouth.' If I don't help her. She will die." Brenner said swallowing his pride continuing. "And if you l-let me go, I will grant you and her freedom. They will never know it was you. And will think it was me. It's what I deserve for keeping you here and the others.."

  Henry looked at him for a moment before letting him drop and follow him with Y/n in his arms to the infirmary. Brenner tended to Y/n who was stable for the most part and before leaving Brenner pointed a gun to Henry's head and with a blink of an eye Brenner was gone. Henry sealed Brenner's fate with the flick of his head. Before, picking up Y/n and leaving this place far behind to start his life with you.

Word count: 3180

(A/n: WOW! This is a long one! I hope y'all liked it! Can't wait to see all your comments! Let me know how I did *nervous laugh* I couldn't decide on a title. Lol. Requests are still open! Hope you all enjoyed! Bye! :) )

#stranger things #001 #001 x reader #henry creel #henry creel x reader #peter ballard #peter ballard x reader #stranger things season 4 #yandere peter ballard #001 stranger things #001 smut #angst #fluff #henry creel smut #peter ballard fluff #peter ballard smut #peter ballard stranger things #yandere henry creel

[positivelybeastly]

[I forgot you liked for a 'hug' in the inbox.]

When things fall apart for Hank, they fall apart spectacularly. Tess stands there with her hands in her pockets. There's a glint in her eyes, one quickly blinked away. (It's regret over--all of it, not pity, but she'll be damned if she lets Hank see her teary-eyed after the day he's had.) "Being a mutant sucks sometimes." The sardonic way she says it might not be tactful, but it is honest.

Yeah. Being a mutant fucking sucks sometimes, and it sucks for some mutants more than others.

After an awkward sort of shuffle and a bit of fidgeting with her pocketed hands, she opens her arms to him, the way she would for her nephew and nieces, or Rodney after his parents died. "C'mere."

"It'll be our secret."

It has been . . . a tiring, day.

First of all, he'd made the cardinal mistake of daring to go to sleep - he'd been without for three days now, and even with his cat-like metabolism, it was starting to affect him. Down had come the camp bed in the lab, KLICK had gone the reinforced feet, and FLUMP had gone Henry McCoy, right onto warm, soft sheets.

He had gotten approximately twenty three minutes of sleep before he had been woken up by Julian Keller and Quentin Quire having what could only be charitably described as a telekinetic slapfight. How, might you ask, had he been woken up by that, considering his lab was soundproofed?

Well, they had decided that their slapfight would go right through Hank's wall, of course.

Through a table of lab cultures and bacteriological experiments that had taken weeks to prepare, had been sitting there for a month being observed every day, twice a day, and now . . . now, the entire thing was going to have to be thrown out, started over again, and all of his current test results scrubbed because the group had been ruined.

Then had come the rest of the morning, and oh had it come for him without mercy. His attempts to get even a middling breakfast were completely stymied by the children having eaten them out of house and home, every single cupboard bare, save for three Hot Pockets that Hank refused to eat, with the distinct air of a man who would rather die than let them burn his mouth to a charcoal crisp.

So, he had elected to go out for food. A simple enough endeavour, one would have thought.

His favourite cafe was closed, so he had had to make do with a newer pop up little thing that sold coffee at too high a price and over-presented their food to make up for the fact that it was simply whelming. It had been - fine, up until he had noticed that the family three tables over kept shifting uncomfortably, their baby crying off and on again, which was just, actual nails on a chalkboard to a man like Hank McCoy.

Cue the server coming along to quietly inform him that he was making the family uncomfortable, that the baby wouldn't stop crying because it kept staring at him and becoming upset, that the mother understood, of course, that this was Dr. Henry McCoy, PhD, M.D, Avenger and X-Man and celebrity, but his eyes, you see, his eyes are just a little too -

So he had been turfed out of the little pop up cafe, resorting to eating his food on a park bench. Fine. Fine, this was the way of things, he would persevere.

The nearby apartment block had promptly exploded into a cacophony of flames, thanks to what was immediately obviously a gas leak. Down had gone the croissants, up had gone Hank, pulling people out through windows and bounding down to put them out of harm's way. He had done a fairly good job of clearing them all out, too, when the main gas supply had ruptured and sent him flying ass over tea kettle, right into a wall, and then -

Whomp.

Out cold.

The very first thought he'd had when he woke up was, well, at least I got the rest I wanted. The second thought was, are they really waking me up with a thrice damned fire hose?!

They were.

Up he had gotten, his fur singed and wet, his expression absolutely thunderous, and the fire chief had just patted him on the back, thanking him for his service before going right back to what he was doing. Hank had stomped back to the park bench, only to find - of course, that his food was gone. Pilfered, it seemed, by the local wildlife.

He had trudged back to the Institute, peeled out of his uniform, and gone to sit by the fireplace in his underwear and a robe, wrapped up tight and doing his best to make sure as little of his body was on show as possible. He didn't like showing skin - or, fur, rather - anymore.

He had made the cardinal mistake of glancing up at the mantelpiece, and staring at the picture of them, the photo portrait that had hung there for years. The Original Five, and Charles, of course. Sat around the Professor, all smiling, all happy. All so very.

Human. Looking.

He found himself, as he always did, staring at that boy.

That smug, insufferable, oh so clever, oh so verbose, oh so stupid boy. The boy that had thought himself a man, and set him down the path to all of this with so little thought, just a whim, just a touch of ego.

He hated that little bastard.

Before he even knew what he was doing, he'd slammed his paw into the photograph, and what had once been Hank McCoy's handsome features was reduced to a scrap of torn paper and glass, his face screwed up into an unrecognisable mess of gloss and fine wood backing.

It was only Tess' words that brought him out of his awful little reverie, and he blinked, looking at her. There was something in his eyes that was very small and very - very fragile, that couldn't quite become tears, even as the glass tinkled off of his knuckles.

". . . Yes. Yes, I . . . suppose it does . . ."

It says a lot about just the kind of day he's had that he doesn't even try and pretend like he doesn't need the hug, and he just, acquiesces. Curls around Tess like he might just fall apart if he doesn't have something, someone to hold on to.

It's a good thing his back is turned, away from the portrait. Tess gets to watch as the scraps of ruined gloss paper that had been Hank's sculpted jawline, his sharp cheeks, his intellectual brow, came away from the rest of the portrait and fell into the fire, where they curled, and melted, and died.

Instead, he has Tess.

And . . . this is one of those moments where that fact alone is more than enough to keep Hank going.

#themckaytriarchy #Awwwwww Tess.

[flamingredanon]

AU where Right and Henry are brothers but different When Henry and Right were little they were experimented when they were young (hence why they both have Time powers) However, Right escaped without Henry, leaving Henry heartbroken, cold and distrustful. This is why Henry betrays Ellie in TCW. When Ellie arrives at the Airship and explains her story, Reginald does the whole ‘speech’ thing, then Thomas objects. He lets Henry tell his side of the story.Henry stood in silence and turns to Rig

Right was surprised Henry remembered their time at the CCC, and he felt that overwhelming guilt find its way back in his mind. "I think, I know why Henry did what he did. You all might want to sit down because this is a doozy of a story." Reginald, Thomas and even Ellie were all confused, but Thomas pulled up a chair for Ellie and they saw Right's face darken, avoiding looking at Henry as he spoke.

"First things first, My real name is Wrightwise Manfred and my younger brother's name is Henry Manfred, but you all know him as Henry Stickmin. We never knew our birth parents, apparently they saw me present my powers at a young age and they sent us off to the Center for Chaos Containment, otherwise known as hell."

"We were experimented on, giving various things, forced to test our abilities like lab rats. The only thing that kept us from breaking was each other. I promised Henry that I would be there for him, promised that I would protect him as best as I could. I failed miserably on those promises."

"I was around twelve years old and Henry around eight when I figured out how to escaped. I promised Henry I would be back for him, to hang tight for a few days and I would bring help. I didn't. I planned on coming back, I really did, but I found some people and before I could tell them about my younger brother and the CCC, I was whisked away on a train ride."

"They didn't believe me when I finally told them, and at that point, we were so far away from that hellsite and I had a warm bed and warm food and I... eventually gave up trying to get people to listen. I was selfish, I was happy and eventually pushed that guilt down enough in my mind that I forgot about it."

Henry had tears streaming down his eyes as he decided to speak with a voice rarely heard. "I waited, and waited and WAITED! Because you never came back, they did even worse tests on me, I was put through more torture, I was just put through more hell! The scientists there said if I preformed better then whatever last test I had, they wouldn't hurt me as much. Guess what, MORE LIES!"

"By the time I escaped, I was about twenty four. The rest of my life until now was filled with more lies, blackmail and deceit!" Henry shot a glare at Reginald, who was feeling really small at this point "Lady... Ellie, I left you because it was only a matter of time before you betrayed me, I've only ever known being lied to and left behind! And I thought the Toppats would be different, that I had finally found a family I could trust. GUESS WHO WAS WRONG YET AGAIN!"

Henry collapsed to the floor, uncontrollably sobbing. For the longest time, no one moved or said a word until Right approached Henry, tears clearly falling from his right eye. He bent down and gently placed his hands on Henry's shoulders. His voice was filled with sorrow as he spoke. "Henry, I am so sorry. I know sorry can't fix the hell you have been through or the fact that I was the world's shittiest brother to you. But I want to make you a promise... no I want to solemnly swear something to you."

Henry looked up at Right as he continued "Henry, starting from this day onwards, I'm going to be a brother you can look up to. I am going to keep you safe as best as I can and I am going to show you that the Toppats are family." Right shot a glare at Reginald, making sure he got the message clearly. "Let me atone for my selfishness, please."

Tears were still falling from Henry's face, but he rasped out a small "Br... brother..." and threw himself at Right, hugging him tightly and Right hugged him back, tears streaming down their faces.

---

Ellie was given a position in the Toppat clan and eventually her thirst for revenge faded and a small friendship eventually bloomed between her and Henry.

Reginald found himself starting to be a mentor for Henry, his lust for leadership turning into an almost fatherly protectiveness to Henry. On the side he started looking into the CCC and decided that once they were in space, Supreme Dominance was going to pay them a visit.

Slowly, Henry learned to trust in people. He took his job of being leader of the Toppats more seriously and started listening to Reginald. There are still moments where he hesitates or feels like he can't trust something or someone. But when it looks like Henry might stumble, Right is there to help him through.

And Right, he made good on his words. He showed Henry what the Toppats are about and showed Henry that not everyone has ill intentions. Right also started to behave more brotherly towards Henry, giving him advice, head noogies, and just warming up around him.

---

As Right walked down the Hall of Toppat leaders, he stopped at the painting of one Sir Wilford the IV. He glared at it before speaking "Everyone knows you as the kind but firm great leader of the clan, but I know better. You shipped Henry and I away to that hellhole and then acted like you had no children. Henry and I suffered, while you lived the lavish life."

"I hope whatever happened to you, you were dealt with as much pain as we went through. Thanks for being a shit person."

Right walked away, making himself a promise, one that he was going to keep. He wasn't going to end up like Wilford and he would make sure Henry wouldn't either.

#lizzyasks #henry stickmin #right hand man #reginald copperbottom #ellie rose #ccc #sir wilford iv #human experiments #the ccc being shit humans again #immoral sciences #henry and right need like five hundred hugs

[missnmikaelson-main]

The Forgotten: Blood Moon Rising Chapter 3

He lounged in his chair, allowing it to turn from side-to-side as he surveyed the boy who that found his way into the office. His height bordered on the edge of lanky. As he sat his long fingers fidgeted, shoving shoulder length brown hair out of dark eyes. The aristocratic features held an air of familiarity, but he couldn’t quite place the boy’s face.

As he watched the boy’s hands dropped, tapping over his thighs.

“Where exactly did you come from?” Alaric tilted his head, taking pity on the boy.

“I… uh…” he rubbed his hands over his pants, “I doubt you would believe me.”

“You have walked into a school for the supernatural of which I am the headmaster,” he straightened up, tapping the desk with his pen. “I have been witness to the impossible for nearly twenty years, and that was before my daughters were magically implanted in their mother. There is very little I wouldn’t believe. Now why don’t you tell me where you came from? It’s not every day that we do a headcount of students and come up with an extra body.”

“Would you believe that I was dead yesterday, Dr. Saltzman?” He met the man’s eyes. “Or is that stretching your tolerance too far?”

“This is New Orleans,” Alaric’s eyebrows rose, “people have a tendency to not stay dead in this city. I suppose that means you’re a witch, then?”

“How did you…?”

“Dead yesterday, and alive today?” He tilted his head. “Alive today after a blood moon rose over the city.”

“For those who know how to use it the blood moon is a powerful celestial event,” he lowered his eyes. “I seized the opportunity to return to the land of the living, but time has passed and I… I find I no longer know this world.”

“Judging by your clothes you’ve been dead a long time,” Alaric joined his fingers together, glancing at the wool trousers. There was something the boy was hiding, but he couldn’t figure out what it was.

“Are you going to make me leave?” He inhaled sharply, pushing his hair behind his ear.

“We’re not in the business of turning away children in need,” Alaric opened his desk drawer and pulled out a couple of forms, “besides, if I don’t let you stay where are you going to go?” He smiled gently and clicked open his pen. “Let’s start with your name.”

++++

A few strands of hair caught on her lip gloss as she tilted her head to balance the phone between her shoulder and ear; her fingers itched to brush it aside, but her grip on the awkward pile in hand meant the hair was doomed to tickle her skin.

"So somebody broke into the crypt?" She hoisted her supplies higher, muttering under her breath: "I swear, one of these years I'm going to take advantage of winter break."

"You say that every year, darling,” Kol lowered the air conditioner.

"If you can remember that you can remember to remind me of it,” she rolled her eyes. "And yes, I know you did. Do you think the break in had anything to do with the elemental typhoon last night?"

"I think there's a chance it wasn't a break in."

"What do you mean?" Elena pushed the mansion door open with her hip, pausing in the entry.

"Why don't I meet you for brunch after your first class and I'll explain."

"Alright, I love you."

"I love you."

She heard the clicks, signifying the end of call, and wiggled her shoulder until the phone settled on the top grimoire.

She swayed, trying to realign her burden.

"Do you require assistance, ma'am?"

"Oh please don't call me ma'am,” Elena grimaced, “it makes me feel old."

"Sorry,” the boy cleared his throat.

"Aren't you over a century old?"

"Erik Mikaelson,” she fixed her son with a mock glare, "just because you're back at boarding school doesn't mean I won't ground you. Who's your new friend?"

"This is Henry,” Erik gestured to the boy with shoulder length hair, "he's new. Henry, this is my mom, she teaches spell science and traveller magic."

"And Kemiya to the upper years,” Elena smiled. She looked Henry up and down as her eyes drew together. "I didn't know we were expecting any new students. It's nice to meet you, Henry, and thank you,” she shook her head, nodding down, “but I've got this; I'll let you get back to your tour."

"See you in class, mom."

Elena nodded once and then took off down the hall for the spell labs. She picked the pace when she heard a loud bang, hastening towards the plume of violet smoke..

++++

Stefan surveyed the damage again, getting one final look at his car’s ruined window.

"Do you two wanna be left alone?" Lexi placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. It was difficult to make the gesture reach her eyes. He had an unhealthy obsession with the Porsche; she suspected he was more upset about the car than the 'Damon-kabob'.

"She’ll be good as new by the time we get there,” Damon sighed, leaning his hip against the new car Stefan had insisted on. "And if we wanna get there by nightfall we've gotta go."

"Are windows like that even legal?" Lexi moved, pressing her palm to the dark glass.

"Depends on the state," he crossed his arms. His voice took on a sing song tone. "If luck is on my side then they won't work and you'll be a pile of ash by the freeway."

"Damon!"

"Nothing against you, babe,” he slid into the car.

"If feels like it.” She opened the back door and made herself comfortable, pushing some heavy blankets aside; if necessary they would shield her from the sun. She waited for Stefan to get in before leaning over the centre console, turning the back of her head on Damon. "Where exactly are we going because this doesn't feel permanent, and I really don't want to spend my limited time in a confined space with the dick that killed me."

"It wasn't personal,” he grumbled, turning over the ignition.

"Can it, Damon!” She drove her elbow back, cracking a rib.

"I don't want you spending what little time you have in the dark,” Stefan grinned, nudging her with his shoulder. "You are going to feel the sun on your face again, and if I have my way,” he squeezed her hand, "this will be permanent."

"You got some powerful witch up your sleeve?” She snickered.

"I got a couple who owe me a pretty big favour,” his smile threatened to split his face, "Damon doesn't want to see them."

"He turned my bones to dust last time."

"I love him already,” Lexi smirked.

"Kol will leave you alone as long as you don't flirt with or antagonize either of them.”

++++

Erik led the way over the yard, pointing to each place as he explained the purpose of them. So far they had visited the stables, greenhouses, and dorms and were now on the final leg of the outdoor tour.

"This is the field," he followed the edge, “we play all sorts of sports, but the school favourite is Wickery. It was a joint project between my mom and aunt Caroline, and it's the closest you're ever gonna get to real life Quidditch."

"Quidditch?” Henry frowned, tasting the unfamiliar word on his tongue.

"Yeah, you know," he prompted, "the famous game from Harry Potter? What rock have you been living under?"

"One that kept me ignorant of popular culture," he drawled, rolling his eyes.

The gesture was achingly familiar.

"I didn't mean anything by it,” he held out his hands. “I tend to speak before thinking sometimes, Mom says I get it from Dad."

"I have a couple of brothers like that,” Henry chuckled.

"You have brothers?" He started walking backwards, leading the way to the mansion.

"I have four brothers, and two sisters."

"Woah,” his jaw dropped. "That's gotta be chaotic. I've got one sister and three cousins, and Christmas is crazy."

"A lot of them are older, so it wasn't that bad, but I haven't seen any of them in a long time.” He smirked, and when he spoke again it was in a tone Erik knew and didn't. "I doubt they even remember what I look like."

"Oh," he frowned. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be,” he waved a hand. “It wasn't anyone's fault. Sometimes things happen and you end up at a school you never thought you'd be at. How'd the school get here anyway?"

"Josie tells this story better,” he warned, "but I'll give it a try.” He turned around when Henry nodded and laid his hand on the deck.

“Long ago the mansion belonged to the old governor before my family took possession of it. It sat untouched for a long time until Eve and Hope were ready to start school.

"Mom wanted them to have a normal experience with other kids, but everyone agreed normal school was out of the question. And since nobody wanted them to stifle who they were Mom and Dad teamed up with my aunts and uncles and the only educator they actually knew. Within a year they opened the Mikaelson Boarding school.

"It grows every year, and my family takes turns funding. This year it's Uncle Elijah."

"That was pretty good."

"Jo still tells it better,” he shrugged. "Come on, I'll show you the classrooms."

++++

"Do you think my dad's mad?” Eve stared at her petri dish, mesmerized by a swirling path her stir stick created through the thick gel.

"No way," Hope tilted her own dish. scrutinizing the contents. “Uncle Kol yells when he's mad."

"He didn't yell when we caused that explosion and knocked a gaping hole in the kitchen wall,” she chewed her bottom lip. "Or that time I switched out spell ingredients without telling him and the table melted.” She hadn't known wood could react like that. "I don't think my dad's ever yelled at me – except for that time when I was crossing the street and a car came out of nowhere, but that was more a yelling at the driver thing."

"I don't think he's mad."

"He confined us to the school; we're effectively grounded."

"Well, you are,” she smirked. Her smile faltered when her phone buzzed. "And now I am too."

"Your dad?” She sat down her dish.

"And mom."

"So he's mad," Eve snatched up a scalpel. “Why else would our grounding have no end in sight?"

"Maybe...” Hope lowered her voice to a whisper. "He wanted us safe. The school has wards, and that ring... that ring shook him up.”

Hope unbuttoned her sleeve, rolling up her sweater and the white shirt to expose her wrist.

"And I know you don't want to admit it, but you're happy to be back here because what happened shook you."

"Alright everybody,” Elena clapped her hands for their attention, "pick up your scalpels and turn to your lab partner. Draw a shallow cut over their wrist then administer your gel; if you've done your job right then the wound will heal."

Hope hissed along with half the class when the blade was drawn over her skin.

"Do you think he told mom?” Eve dropped her scalpel and caught a dab of the gel, carefully wiping it over the cut.

"I think we'll know when he does." The gel cooled and her skin knit together underneath. "Confining us to school feels like half a punishment. Aunt Elena will have something more to add."

"What precisely will I be adding to Hope?"

The girls gasped, spinning on their stools to find Elena's sparkling eyes watching them.

"Nothing,” Eve's eyelids fluttered.

"You inherited your deceitful skills from me, Eve Freya Mikaelson,” she tilted her head. "I assume your father will have a fair bit to add to your 'nothing'."

Eve and Hope exchanged a look, knowing from experience that it was better to come clean; typically it knocked a week off the overall punishment.

"We snuck out last night,” she held her hands in her lap.

"I was restless..."

"And we knew Lafayette would be empty."

"Mom?"

"Are we in trouble?"

Elena stared at both of them, eyes flickering back and forth.

"Somebody could have been hurt."

Hope dropped her eyes.

"If you feel like that you should tell us; we can find a place for you to run where nobody will see. Don't listen to your cousin all the time; her impulsivity comes from her dad." Elena waited for them to nod and then held out her hands. "Cell phones."

"That's it?" Eve frowned, placing her phone in her hand.

"Of course not,” Elena smirked as the girls spun back around. She wrapped her arms around their shoulders and leaned forward to place her head between them. "You two are gonna come back here every day this week after dinner..."

"Mom, no; please?” Eve’s eyes widened. Her horror was reflected in Hope's gaze.

"And you're going to clean and reorganize the spell science cupboard."

"B-b-but...” Hope thought about the decade of disorder and various ingredients. "We came clean."

"That's why I'm not making you do the attic." Elena kissed their temples, humming softly. "I'm glad you're safe."

They shuddered as she left the table.

"Do you... uh...” Josie tiptoed up to their table. "still need a volunteer?" She held out a clean scalpel to Hope.

++++

The Tudor mansion sprawled out over lush green, popping out of the trees as if from nowhere. She stared at the towering structure and crossed her arms.

"Your friend seems to have done well for himself."

"I don't know about that,” Ariadne smirked. "He was buried alive in the sixteenth century."

Mary-Alice stiffened, whirling around to glare. Her fingers tugged at her sleeves, covering her exposed wrists.

"You said he disappeared."

"He did,” Ariadne skipped up the driveway and ran her finger over the hood of a blue Camaro. "He disappeared when he was desiccated and buried alive. Is he inside or on the property? Where do we start digging?"

“I gave you a location,” she pulled the map from her pocket, hating the way the trousers clung.

"Stop fidgeting? You look ridiculous.” She pulled out a small black box and surveyed the map, punching a few buttons.

"I feel like a whore in these clothes,” she fingered the denim. “Why couldn't I wear my own?"

"Because that monstrosity made you stick out like a sore thumb."

"But why must women in this century dress like prostitutes?" She sneered at Ariadne's blouse, revealing her collarbone and a hint of cleavage.

"Times are changing,” she crumpled the map. "Personally I find the lack of a corset freeing, and the twenty-first century has many marvels."

She started toward the house, following a blinking arrow on the black box’s screen.

++++

“Let me see if I've got this straight?" Lizzie passed off a glowing ball of swirling energy to her twin, “you thought sneaking out on a full moon. after an earthquake was a good idea?"

"Nobody was gonna be out there.” The ball grew, taking on a red tint.

"Keep the energy positive guys," MG frowned at the magic. "The book says it should stay blue."

"Someone could have been hurt,” Hope took the ball. The size and colour fluctuated as it passed between her hands. "I could have hurt someone."

"You didn't,” Eve groaned. The ball flared, resembling a supernova where it floated between her spread palms. "Don't doubt your control because you're bloody awesome. Mom just worries. Dad didn't say anything."

"Uncle Kol got distracted by how upset you were..."

"Uh... guys..." MG's voice wavered.

The spell fluctuated, further losing it's structural integrity.

" ... and that creepy guy who attacked you..."

"I had it handled!" Eve's heart hammered. Heat licked her fingers as anxiety fed the spell.

"That's why you spent an hour shaking and clinging to a werewolf," Hope drawled. "Uncle Kol didn't see it, but he could see that you were scared."

"I wasn't scared,” her voice cracked.

"You were,” Hope shoved her fingers through her hair. "That's the onl..."

The spell released, knocking four young witches flat. They groaned, sitting up on elbows.

"I really thought I'd be the one to screw that up,” Lizzie grumbled, flipping blonde hair from her face. 

“Is everyone okay?" Josie got to her knees and cast her eyes around the yard. "MG?"

"I'm good,” his voice called out from a flower bed.

Eve surveyed the damage she could see - flattened grass, broken branches and a toppled fountain. She flopped back, covering her face with her hands.

"I think I'm a little shaken," she swallowed, listening to her heart race.

Hope shuffled closer and wrapped her arm around Eve's middle.

"I know. I'm sorry."

Eve closed her eyes, lowering her hands to her belly. She could see the way he had looked at her - feel the way he had touched her.

"He looked at me like I was some kind of prize, and not in a good way."

"There's a good way?" Josie stretched out on her other side.

"Yeah,” Eve sighed. "Like how my parents look at each other sometimes, or how Uncle Nik looks at your mom."

"Like they can't believe they got so lucky,'' MG sat above their joined heads.

"I want someone to look at me like that,” Lizzie sighed, stretching out next to Josie.

"Not the way this guy was,” Eve shuddered. "It was like..."

"Like he wanted to consume you," Hope finished. “Nobody's gonna hurt you, Evie."

"And anyone who tries has to go through all of us,” Lizzie swore.

"We got your back, E,” MG squeezed her shoulder.

"Thanks,” she smiled, sniffing. "So,” she smirked, “does that mean you're all gonna help us with the storage cupboard."

"Evie, we love you," Josie kissed her cheek, “but no.”

++++

"Okay,” Erik recapped, counting off on his fingers. "The dining hall, administration and library are on the ground floor. Second floor has your standard normal classes, and supernatural courses are divided between there and the top floor. There are a couple of hidden rooms Uncle Nik turned into study spaces. Do you want to see my favourite?”

++++

Elena flipped through lab book after lab book, rapidly checking off correct answers and making short notes in the margins. Everyone passed the lab portion of their pop quiz, but the theory required a little work.

Two weeks off for holidays and everyone seemed to have forgotten a semester's worth of teaching. She anticipated intense study sessions in preparation for exams.

January promised strung out teenagers.

Even Eve and Hope's reports lacked coherent thought.

She flipped over her phone, reading the incoming message.

Kol: Did you forget about me?

She smirked, tapping out a quick response as she stood and reached for her purse.

Elena: I'm not sure. Remind me who this is again.

Kol: I think you know.

Elena: oh?

Kol: Dashingly handsome. Exceedingly debonair...

Elena: is this the insanely conceited guy that sleeps next to me every night?

Kol: conceited?

Elena grinned, taking off at a run, slowing when she reached the alley and sauntering to the cafe.

"Conceited?" He cocked an eyebrow, lifting his chin for her kiss.

"You spent more time getting ready for the New year's party than I did,” she slipped into the seat across from him, "and Bekah dragged me off for manicures."

Her eyes narrowed when he didn't immediately quip back with how she agreed that he was ridiculously good looking.

"What's wrong? Is it the crypt?"

"No,” he reached into his jacket pocket. "I can handle my parents possibly being alive on the streets of New Orleans," he ignored her shocked expression. "I've accepted their hatred, and mother's inability to stay dead. This is what worries me."

A ring wobbled on the table.

"A daylight amulet?" She picked it up. "Why do I recognize it?”

“Eve took it off a vampire who attacked her this morning." He covered her hand before she could interrupt. “There is a very descent chance the dead are rising. And a man who hates us both targeted our child because that ring belonged to Stavros."

She felt her head shake, impossibility was the denial on her tongue, but she knew her husband. He would see her impossible and raise with their children. Loopholes existed in nature, exploited at every opportunity by anyone with the power; some would have done it just to prove they could.

Sad to say, not every witch respected the natural world they were sworn to protect.

Their waitress walked up, thrusting her hips forward as she stopped at the table and batted her eyes.

"What can I get'cha, suga?” She flashed a bright grin at Kol.

He knew Elena was lost in thought when she made no comment on the girl's obvious flirtation. He was in no mood to torment her, or deal with Anna's inconsiderate nature.

"I'll have the eggs Benedict and coffee,” he examined the furrow between her brows and decided on her 'thinking food'. "Stuffed french toast and hot chocolate for my wife." He emphasized the last word, giving Anna a pointed look.

She clicked her pen closed and whirled toward the kitchen.

"How?” Elena closed her hand around the ring.

"After eighteen years I know you're favourite foods," he chuckled.

"Kol,” she sighed.

"Bad - if accurate - attempt at easing your nerves,” he rubbed her sensitive wrist, sobering fast. "Something happened during the blood moon, and I... I think the earthquake and... everything... may have been nature's way of fighting back.”

“Against the dead rising?” A chill swathed over her jiggling leg. “Did you see Stavros?” Warm metal cut into her palm.

“No, darling.”

“Then maybe you’re wrong,” she rubbed her lips together. “Maybe it was the Harvest girls screwing up a spell, or arguing over something trivial, and,” she raised a brow when she saw the flash of emotion in his eyes, “why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m so sorry, love.” He shook his head. “I didn’t want to tell you over the phone, but the Harvest Girls are dead. Only Davina survived.”

Sorrow, she decided; it was sorrow in his gaze. Or perhaps she was seeing a reflection of her eyes in his.

“What happened?”

“A vampire.”

“I want him found,” she spat. Pure, unadulterated rage raced through her veins.

“While I share your sentiment it wasn’t him,” he ran his thumb over her knuckles. “Davina said it was a woman, and that she was talking nonsense about fire and magic; she never saw her face.”

“Then I want both of them found.” Two spots of colour appeared high on her cheeks.

“I already tried to find Stavros,” he let go of her hand, leaning back as their food arrived. “There’s no sign of him.”

“Then maybe you are wrong.” Elena picked up her mug and took a sip of rich hot chocolate. A dollop of whipped cream stuck to her nose.

“Or a witch is helping him,” he swiped his thumb over her nose and sucked the whipped cream off. “Personally I’m hoping I’m wrong, since being right opens a door I’d rather not look through. Do you know how many people I’ve pissed off in the past millennia?”

“No idea,” she shook her head. Her fork stabbed her French toast. Fruit oozed out.

“Too many to count,” he reached for his coffee.

“Right or wrong,” she lifted her fork, “I want that woman put down and that man found so I can tear out his internal organs.”

Her eyes narrowed when he smirked.

“What?” She mumbled around a mouthful of French toast.

He grinned, nudging her foot under the table. “I love you."

++++

“I assume he’s looked better,” Mary Alice grimaced. She leaned over the open lid of the pine box and traced the vampire’s desiccated remains with the tip of her finger.

“He’ll look much better in a minute,” Ariadne grinned. Madness gleamed in her eyes.

Mary Alice’s finger twitched, raising up in warning.

“Relax honey,” she twirled around the box, gracefully pirouetting towards her dropped bag. “I brought some blood. Can’t have him accidentally killing you now, can I? Who would finish the ring?”

She moved backwards, standing against the rough wall with a stiff spine.

Ariadne opened the blood bag and pressed the tube against his lips, squeezing a few drops into his dry mouth. Slowly the bag emptied and colour returned to his sallow cheeks.

His brow crinkled and he opened his eyes, blearily focusing on her grinning face.

“Ariadne?” He croaked, reaching for the edge of his coffin.

“Hello, darling,” she tossed the empty blood bag over her shoulder. “Did you miss me?”

“You…” he broke off in a fit of coughs, lurching upright.

“Let me finish that thought for you,” she reached for a second bag of blood, opening it for him, “ravishing creature.”

He tore into the bag of blood, sucking it down fast. A healthy glow returned to his skin. “I was actually going to call you a bitch.”

“That’s no way to talk to the girl getting you a daylight ring,” she pouted. Her eyes sparkled.

“You,” he fought down a sardonic laugh as he climbed to his feet, “want to grant me a daylight ring?”

“I even brought a witch,” Ariadne perched on the edge of his coffin. “Mary Alice spelled the talisman for you.” As she spoke she toyed with her own amulet.

Mary Alice pulled a silver ring from her pocket. The large blue stone glinted in the dim light, reflecting in his wide eyes.

“You never do anything without expecting something in return,” he jumped out of the coffin, eager to be rid of it. “What do you want?”

“It’s quite simple,” Mary Alice spun the ring around her finger.

“All you have to do is seduce a pretty little thing and get her to show you mommy dearest’s grimoire,” she picked at a splinter in the wood.

“Get the girl to take out a thin silver dagger her mother sealed away,” Mary Alice tilted her head, “and bring it to me.”

“And you expect me to do all of this under the cover of night?” He turned his head, eyeing them both.

“Don’t be silly,” Mary Alice tossed him the ring. “You’ll use that.”

“What’s to stop me taking this and running?” He cocked an eyebrow.

“The spell is temporary,” she resisted the urge to tug at her clothes. “I’ll make it permanent when you deliver your end; you have a week to get the doppelgänger’s dagger.”

“One week?”

“Don’t act so scandalized,” Ariadne waved one hand. “You always were a charmer and she is a naive girl. It’ll be a piece of cake. Now what do you say to me?” She sang, leaning forwards.

“Thank you?” He slipped the ring onto his finger.

“You…” Ariadne prompted, twirling a splinter between her fingers.

“Thank you Ariadne,” he rolled his eyes, “you ravishing creature.”

“Much better.”

++++

Hope towelled the worst of the water from her hair and dropped to sit cross legged on her bed, bouncing on the springs. She could still remember the first time she had slept at the school; it had taken a fair amount of convincing since someone always traveled from the compound to the campus every morning.

“Please don’t start jumping on the bed,” Eve flipped over a page and laid her hand on a sheet of paper.

“Do you remember when we were little,” Hope waved her hand, levitating her towel to its hook, “the first night we stayed in this room?”

“How can I forget?” She snickered, tapping the page. “You knocked me off the bed with a pillow. That was the first time I ever broke a bone.”

“You insta-healed,” she leaned back on her bed. “And what’s the fun of jumping up and down on the bed if you don’t whack each other around?”

“No fun at all.”

“Our parents were so mad,” Hope hugged a pillow to her stomach and reached for her brush.

“I remember mom crying,” Eve tilted head, seeing the scene as if it were happening. Her arm had healed at the wrong angle. “I think re-breaking it hurt her and dad more than it hurt me. Do you know that’s the only time I ever saw my dad cry?”

“Uncle Kol cried?” Hope winced and worked the brush through a series of knots.

“Yeah,” she pursed her lips. “Why are we talking about our first night here?”

“Because you’re flipping through that book.”

“It calms me,” Eve fingered another page. With each new page she catalogued the contents, feeling the various forms of energy rise up through her arm.

“You might be the only person alive to find dark objects calming,” she rolled her eyes.

“They’re not calming, Hope,” Eve flipped another page, tracing an eight pointed star with her fingertip. “They’re anxiety inducing, but knowing that the dark magic is stuck where nobody can ever use it is calming.” She flipped the page again. “And sometimes the light objects are fun to take out and handle.”

“Is it working at least?” Hope tossed her brush aside. “Is your stolen property succeeding in calming you?”

“No, and neither did your nostalgia trip,” she smirked.

“I see,” she hummed, “I guess I’ll just have to resort to drastic measures.”

“Dr…” Eve broke off in a shriek, throwing her hands up as the pillow smacked her in the face. She sputtered, twisting her neck around to stare at her cousin. A beat of silence passed before a wicked twinkle entered her eyes. “Are you serious right now?”

Hope smirked, flashing white teeth.

“Oh…” Eve’s tongue poked out as she grinned, reaching for one of her pillows. “It’s on.”

++++

“Dammit, dammit, dammit,” Elena kicked the table, sending candles skittering across the floor.

“What about the Tibetan bowl?” Kol stomped on the edge of a curtain, smothering the flames before they could overtake the fabric.

“Two Original hybrids,” she stared out the window, watching the moon rise up, “and an ancient bowl is going to help?”

“Can’t hurt,” he wrapped his arms around her waist.

“What witch has enough power to block both of us together?” She laid her head back on his chest.

“A coven of them,” he closed his eyes, lowering his nose to her neck.

“Or maybe,” Klaus’ voice drew their attention from the window, “you can’t track the dead.”

“Now you’re on board with the dead theory?” Elena groaned, slumping in her husband’s hold. “I thought you were more sceptical than that. Your parents can’t exactly be considered the norm.”

“She has a point, Nik,” he sighed. “I didn’t actually see anyone dead, so the theory is unconfirmed.”

“Not anymore,” Klaus nodded his chin back towards the hall. “Confirmation has come to us.”

“What?” He lifted an eyebrow, adjusting his hold on her as she shifted.

“Elena has a visitor.”

The couple exchanged a look loaded with wary confusion before following Klaus out of the study.

“Who is it?” She slotted her fingers between Kol’s and squeezed, but Klaus didn’t get a chance to answer before they entered the living room. Her eyes snapped to the man by the fireplace and narrowed. “How does Stefan confirm anything?”

“You wanted something confirmed?” Stefan straightened up.

“Stefan is not the confirmation, right ripper?” Klaus smirked, dimples flashing. He circled around a leather couch, nodding to the person sitting there.

The woman placed one hand on the arm and rose, spinning around to face them. A bright smile lit up her round face as she squealed and raced to wrap Elena in a tight hug.

Her hands came up on instinct, wrapping around her back even as her spine stiffened.

“Lexi?” She breathed, dazed as the vampire let her go.

“Yeah,” she nodded fast, “I’m sorry. I know we were never that close.”

“It’s not that.” She shook her head.

“It’s what your presence implies, love,” Kol placed a hand on the small of Elena’s back, rubbing circles over her spine.

“I’m not entirely sure what that means,” Lexi took a step back. She tilted her head, looking him up and down slowly. “Are you the vampire that turned Damon’s bones to dust?”

“I suppose I did do that,” his jaw clicked. “He had it coming.”

“No defence needed,” Lexi laughed, holding her hands palms out. “Damon always deserves an ass-kicking. And after what I heard you did, I think I might love you.”

Elena stepped into his side and placed a hand on his chest. She smiled, voice filled with laughter and a slight edge.

“Move on fast, sweetie. He’s taken.”

“By a very jealous woman,” Kol tipped his chin down and gave her hand a pointed look. “What are you doing here Lexi? Aside from resurrecting, I mean.”

“Stefan got it in his head that you two could make her a daylight ring.”

Kol whipped his head around, glaring daggers at the man as he stepped into the living room through an opposite door.

“You!” He snarled.

Elena’s possessive hand turned into a restraining one, halting her husband’s sudden march.

Elena strained against Kol while Damon took a hurried step backwards.

The retreat stopped when Damon dropped to his knees and gripped his head. He grunted. Blood vessels burst in his eyes.

“Kol!” Elena spun in front of him, cutting off his sight line. Behind her Damon’s pained grunts cut off. “What have I said about hurting my friends unprovoked?”

“He draws breath in my presence,” his glared burned over the top of her head. He had never forgiven Damon for his attempt to steal Elena away, or his implication that their unborn daughter was something to fix. “That’s provocation enough.”

“Are you gonna beat the shit out of him?” Lexi stepped aside with a giant grin, perching on the sofa’s arm. “Maybe finish what I started earlier?”

“Lexi!” Elena scolded. “Why are you provoking him?”

“I wanna see Damon get pummelled,” she shrugged. “He did kill me.”

“His existence is provocation enough.” Elena’s head snapped around to Klaus’ snickers.

“I’ve had that thought,” Stefan covered his laugh by lowering his eyes and clearing his throat.

“You two are not helping,” she groaned.

“What the hell did I do to tick you off?” Damon stopped in his tracks. Righteous indignation squared his shoulders.

Elena felt a strong desire to sob her frustration.

“Weren’t you listening mate?” Kol placed his hands on Elena’s shoulders, lifting her off her feet and setting her at his side. “You’re still breathing.”

“Breathing?” Damon scoffed. He threw up his hands, taking a foolish step forward. “I haven’t done anything to you.”

“You haven’t done anything?” Kol’s voice rose to a mocking falsetto. Only Elena’s hand on his elbow held him back. “You were going to help my mother kill every vampire on earth,” fire flashed in his eyes.

“To be fair,” Stefan gripped his brother’s jacket, holding him back, “I did that too.”

“You came around and helped,” Kol snapped. “He upset my wife time and time again, tried to steal her away and made a rather daring implication about my daughter. Not to mention nearly burning my brother alive.” He observed Damon critically and sneered. “I think I’ll feed you your own liver.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Damon smirked. “Didn’t you hit the reset button when Elena turned you?”

“Do you have a death wish?” Stefan sighed. He pinched the bridge of his nose, sensing a tension headache coming on.

“I can take him,” he tried to break Stefan’s hold. “That was all circumstantial.”

“What about what you did to Caroline?” Stefan muttered, but failed to keep his voice low enough.

“What the bloody hell did he do to Caroline?” Klaus’ eyes flashed gold.

Shit, Stefan flinched.

Elena shut her eyes, pressing her lips into a thin line.

Klaus repeated his question, louder as he took a menacing step. Black veins spidered across his cheekbones.

“Only Damon and Caroline know exactly what happened.” Stefan cleared his throat, hoping to save Damon Klaus’ wrath. He might have held his own against Kol for a few minutes, but Klaus would tear Damon apart and no amount of Elena’s pleading would stop him; Caroline might have been able to do it, but he doubted she would have even if she were present.

With any luck he would have Damon far, far away before Klaus got Caroline to talk.

“I just had a little fun with her while she was human,” Damon shrugged. He glanced at Klaus, but the majority of his attention was stuck on Kol.

“Fun?” Klaus growled. His foot came down hard, cracking the floorboard as he stepped forward.

Damon seemed to sense the sudden shift and pivoted, keeping both brothers in his sight line. He bent his knees and readied to fight back, but he never got the chance.

His saving grace appeared in a flurry of white gold hair and grey cashmere.

Rebekah stood in front of Klaus, keeping her hands on his chest as she surveyed the room. A swell of testosterone shimmered in the air. Her eyes flickered over the tight cords of muscle in her brothers’ necks before darting to Freya.

“We’re gone for half a day and you’ve turned the living room into a bloody boxing ring?”

“Don’t be ridiculous Bex,” Kol glared at Damon. “Boxers are shirtless. Do you see any shirts missing?”

Unbidden an image of her shirtless husband with beads of blood dripping down his chest swam through her mind. She poked her extended canine, imagining licking the red from the grooves in his abdomen.

Shirtless, she decided, would make the whole ordeal much more interesting. She might even get on board with a little beating if it meant she could watch the shift of his muscles under sweat slick skin.

“Where have you two been?” Klaus took a series of shallow breaths, forcing his features back to something resembling human.

“We have been busy.” Freya moved into the middle of the room, hoping her presence would at least deter her brothers from racing into a fight. “Keeping our ears to the ground.”

“And we have bigger issues right now than whatever this is,” Rebekah waved one hand.

Elena swallowed her disappointment, but then thought of the store of blood bags. A little AB positive would be tastier than Damon; it wouldn’t be the first time she had done something like that.

“What’s the problem, Bekah?” She loosened her grip on Kol’s arm, sliding her hand down to his wrist.

“I compelled a few locals who live near the cemetery, pushed some images into their minds, and you’ll never guess what I found out.”

“I think they will,” Freya rolled her eyes.

“Mother and father were both seen leaving the cemetery in the early hours of the morning. No idea where they went, but they’re most definitely alive.”

“Of course they are,” Klaus felt fury race through his veins. “Three guesses why they’ve come back.”

“We don’t need three guess, Nik,” Rebekah rolled her eyes. “It’s obvious. The Original Bitch is fresh out of the grave and looking for ways to kill us all along with daddy dearest. Say what you want about our parents, but when they set a goal they do everything to reach it.”

“And they’re together again?” Kol twisted his wrist, catching her hand. “United in their desire to end their children.” He hummed, tilting his head. “How romantic. I don’t think we can compete with that, darling.”

“Shut up, Kol!” Elena glared, lightly smacking his arm.

“I love it when you order me about,” he winked.

Her flush and Rebekah’s subsequent groan brought a smirk to his lips.

@klaroline-events @kol-and-elena-fanfiction @elejahforever@elejah-wonderland @cry-btch@geekofmanyfandoms@morsmornte @xanderling @iw1shiknew​

#kol mikaelson #Elena gilbert #kolena #Klaus mikaelson #freya mikaelson #Rebekah mikaelson #The Forgotten: Blood Moon Rising #fanfic #Alaric saltzman #au

[akaashishotthighs]

Modern TID - Part 11

Part 10 - Part 12

Dinner went by smoothly. Tessa got to know everyone a bit better. She was starting to understand the group’s dynamic and everyone’s role in it.

Charlotte was the head of the family. Tessa was right about her being young. She was merely twenty-five years old. And yet she was not only a lawyer, but she was already a partner at one of London’s most prestigious law firms, which was impressive in more ways than one. She and Henry had been married for five years. They’d gotten married young, with her being twenty and the groom nineteen years old. A quick engagement, and an even faster wedding.

“We wanted to just get it over with. We would’ve gotten married at the City Hall, no party, but our parents insisted.”

They were both only child’s, and their parents were all high-society people, with a lot to pass on to their children. The way Charlotte spoke of it, it almost seemed as if it had been an arranged marriage, and that there were no feelings behind the decision whatsoever. But the way Charlotte looked at Henry, and spoke to him with such tender and caring. The way Henry’s attention was only focused when Charlotte spoke, the way he caressed her hand unconsciously. How both their eyes sparkled and their smiles widened soflty when their gazes met. It was impossible to believe that this had been a simple business deal.

Though she had gotten to know a bit about Charlotte, she’d gotten nearly no information about Henry. She was told he was an inventor, and that he had a lab on the basement, where he spent most of his time. She could tell he was clearly brilliant, even if a bit aloof. He seemed kind, mostly because he was too distracted to ever be malicious on purpose.

Sophie had quickly become her favorite. They connected in several ways. Mdway through dinner, someone had made a comment, and they’d shared a look, unconsciously, and realised they both knew exactly what the other was saying with their look. It also surprised Tessa that somehow, during dinner, she’d forgotten Sophie’s scar. It was there, she could see it, but it was something that had moulded its way into Sophie in a way that made her more her.

And then there was Jessamine.

Jessamine, who made a point to make a snarky comment about everything. Jessamine, who kept reminding the people at the table that she was a high-society lady and that they should view her company that night as a blessing, for she had much more exciting things to do with more interesting people that night. Jessamine, who looked at Tessa as a gum at the bottom of her shoe ever since she learned that Tessa was poor. Jessamine, who treated Sophie as merely a servant. Jessamine, who was scolded more times in just one dinner than Tessa in her entire childhood. Jessamine, who Tessa wanted to throttle every five minutes.

Except for the blonde inconvenience, dinner had been a delight. Yet Tessa was still glad when Will excused them back to his room. It was already late, and she was two minutes away from dropping asleep. He let her have his bathroom to change into her pyjamas. She had brought an oversized t-shirt that reached her mid-thigh, and short shorts that were invisible under the shirt. That way, she was covered, but she still showed off her freshly shaved legs. Nothing wrong with showing off you best traits, she thought.

She was yawning as she came back into the bedroom. Will was already under the covers, reading a book. She noted he was shirtless and felt her cheeks reddening. He looked up at her and smiled. She slipped inside the covers and cuddled close to him, her shyness over his lack of clothing fading quickly, as he dropped the book onto his nightstand. He put his arms around her and kissed her forehead. “So, what did you think?”

“They were all very nice.” She whispered as she tried to keep her eyes open.

“All of them?” He lifted an eyebrow. “Even Jessamine?” Tessa unconsciously cringed. Will giggled. “It’s okay. That’s a popular reaction.”

“Everyone else was great, though. Can I just ask you a question?” He nodded. “Why is Sophie so mean to you?”

Will sighed. “She’s never given me an actual reason, but Jem has a theory.” He brushed a messy curl awau from his face. “Sophie moved in when I was fourteen. She was seventeen at the time.” He was hesitant for a second. “What I’m going to tell you right now, I’m not supposed to know. Jem and I were eavesdropping when Charlotte was welcoming Sophie into the house.”

“I won’t tell a soul.” She held out her pinkie for him to shake, He smiled and curled his pinkie around hers.

“Sophie was born into an impoverished family. When she was six, her father ditched them. Her mother started working as a maid. When she was thirteen, Sophie dropped school to start working, because her mother could no longer afford having Sophie going to school. At the time, her mother was working for a wealthy family. The Wood’s. Sophie began working as a maid there as well.

“There was a boy in that house, Teddy Wood. He was only a couple years older than Sophie. He took a liking to Sophie. He tried to seduce her several times, but she always rejected him. When she was seventeen, after four years of failed advances, Teddy got angry. In a fit of rage, Teddy cut Sophie’s face with a knife, wanting to leave a scar that would permanently disfigure her face. He told her that if he coldn’t have her, he’d make sure no one ever wanted her again.

“Sophie tried to go to Mrs Wood, but Teddy spun the story in his benefit, and his mother believed him. Sophie decided to go to her mother for help, but Mrs Wood paid her to make Sophie go away. Her mother took the money and kicked Sophie out. That’s when Charlotte met her. Charlotte found her on the steps of a church, freezing, and crying. She took pity on Sophie and took her to a doctor. He was able to heal the infection that was starting to form, but not the scar.

“Charlotte brought her here and offered a room. Sophie accepted the room, as long as she worked for it. Charlotte was against it, but she insisted that she at least let her help around the kitchen and with the cleaning. Charlotte accepted, as long as Sophie took some sort of schooling. That’s how Sophie began homeschooling. She’s currently working on twelfth-grade subjects and will be taking the GCSE’s and the A-levels in a couple months. I think you Americans calls them GED’S. She’s very excited.” He smiled at that, a soft smile. He was proud of her, Tessa noted.

“Wow, that’s...” She shook her head. “Sophie is so strong.” Will gave a small nod. “But that doesn’t explain why she’s mean to you.”

“Right! So, Jem’s theory is that I remind her of Teddy and that being around me bring around all the traumatic memories.” Tessa was going to speak up but Will cut her off. “You have to understand when Sophie met me, I was very different. I was nothing like the guy you see in front of you right now.”

“But you’ve changed. Can’t you show Sophie that, and maybe she’ll be a little nicer to you?” Tessa shrugged.

“I don’t want her to be nicer to me.” He said matter-of-factly.

“You... don’t?”

“No. If calling me doofus, being snarky towards me, and scowling every time she’s in the same room as me is what she needs to cope, then let her. I don’t get in the way of coping mechanisms.”

She smiled. “That’s very kind of you.”

He shrugged. “Basic human decency.” He kissed her cheek. “Anything else you want to know?” She yawned again. He giggled. “Or maybe just sleep?”

She was already nuzzling her nose on his neck. “Sleep good.” She mumbled. Everything around her started blurring. She could hear Will singing something in a anguage she didn’t understand. She fell asleep to the warm strenght of his arms, his velvety soft voice, and the rapid thumping of his heart.

#modern tid #tessa gray #will herondale #jessamine lovelace #jem carstairs #sophie collins #charlotte henry #henry branwell #wessa #jessa #heronstairs #herongraystairs #chenry #the infernal devices #the shadowhunters chronicles #tid #tsc

[queenofcats17]

Okay the thing Joey did to Lacie was terrifying! But it gave me a pretty crazy idea, so I’m sorry if it isn’t good! Okay so what if Joey somehow found out about Murray talking to Henry and how he was trying to plan to escape, so Joey in anger decided that Murray wasn’t worth his time anymore and starts to force Henry to kill/corrupt him, but Henry tries too hard to fight back so Joey tortures him like he did to Lacie? I’m really sorry if this idea is too dark! I just thought it’d be cool. 😅

Sorry this took so long.

Also…This got darker than I thought it would. 

Joey was beginning to grow tired of Murray. The other man had done good work for him in the beginning, but he was starting to be a liability. Joey had thought Murray would be able to handle the darker aspects of this job. Murray was a scientist, after all. Wasn’t a little suffering necessary in the pursuit of science? Oh well. In any case, Murray had rather more empathy than Joey had initially anticipated. He was starting to think that it might be time to bring Murray into his little family. 

As he returned to where he’d left Henry, he heard voices. One was Murray, and the other was…Henry. Joey stopped, listening to the conversation the two of them were having. 

“Eventually, Joey’s going to lose his patience and he might do something terrible to you and Bendy.” Murray was saying. 

“Then I’ll have to make sure I don’t get caught when I finally do get out,” Henry replied.

“I don’t think you understand just how dire this situation is, Mr. Williams.” 

“I completely understand. That’s why I’ll be careful the next time I try.”

“Well…Best of luck to you, I suppose.”

Joey’s temper flared. Still! Still with the escaping! Why couldn’t Henry be happy with him?! Wasn’t his love enough? Henry was alone now. Joey had seen into his mind. He knew Annette was all Henry had. Bendy was here too! Henry had everything he could possibly want. He was part of a family. He was a father. Why…Why couldn’t Henry be happy with him?

But that was one thing. Murray was another. It seemed like Murray was going behind his back, encouraging Henry to try and escape. Or at least allowing him to consider it. Now, that wouldn’t do. Joey closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It looked like he needed to finally put his foot down. 

“What are you two talking about?” Joey asked innocently, walking in. Both Murray and Henry froze. 

“M-Mr. Drew!” Murray stammered. “How…How long have you been there?” Henry just stared at Joey, his gaze defiant as his single eye burned with fury. 

“It sounds as though you’ve both been very naughty.” Joey clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “I’ll have to teach you both a lesson.”

“We’re not…children…” Henry was having trouble speaking and thinking again, but he was determined to resist.

“Oh, Henry.” Joey laughed, striding over to hold Henry’s face in his hands. “It’s cute that you think you can fight me. Now, I have a very important job for you.” The life was quickly fading from Henry’s eye as Joey pulled away. Murray scooted back, dread settling in the pit of his stomach. 

“Mr. Hill.” Joey turned back to him. “I was impressed with your work at first, but you’re proving to be more trouble than you’re worth.” He smiled sweetly. “I think it’s time you join our family.”

“Mr. Drew, please-”

“Henry.” Joey interrupted him, smile widening in a sinister manner. “Let’s make him one of us.” Henry surged forward, causing Murray to scream and slam his back against the lab table. Then Henry stopped, his hand inches from Murray’s face. 

“Henry?” Joey frowned. “What are you waiting for?”

“No…More…” Henry gasped. “I…Won’t…”

“Henry, this is not the time.” A hint of testiness entered Joey’s voice. 

“No…More…!” Henry repeated, turning on Joey. Murray, who up until this point had been frozen in fear, saw his chance and took it, bolting from the room. 

“I will deal with you later,” Joey growled to him as he left. He then turned his attention back to Henry.

“Henry, dearest,” he said through gritted teeth. “You know I love you very much. But you are beginning to test my patience.”

“Good.” Henry almost seemed to smirk.

“What is it that I’ve done wrong, Henry?” Joey knelt before him, looking rather distraught. “What do you want that I can’t give you?”

“Freedom,” Henry replied. “You…want to…control everything.” 

“I want to keep you safe, Henry. You’re much safer like this than you ever were as a human. Nothing can hurt you now.” Nothing but acetone, that was. And maybe water. 

“Bull.” Henry practically spat in his face. “You never cared…about me. I was…a possession…to you.” 

“Henry!” Joey took a step back, his whole body starting to shake. “I love you! You know that! I would do anything for you!”

“THEN WHY WON’T YOU LET ME BE WITH MY SON?!” Henry roared. He stood up, his form solidifying into something far more human. 

“WHY WON’T YOU LET ME BE WITH MY FRIENDS?! WHY WON’T YOU LET ME GO?!” Henry demanded, advancing menacingly towards Joey until his friend had his back against the wall. Literally.

“They don’t love you like I do, Henry. This is for your own good.” Joey said. “No one will ever love you the way I do.” He did genuinely look upset. But Henry knew better. He was just so tired of all this. He was tired of fighting Joey, he was tired of running, he was tired of this whole business. So he was going to tell Joey exactly how he was feeling.

“Henry, please.” Joey cradled Henry’s face in his hands. He looked on the verge of tears. “Please, you have to understand. This is all for you.”

“I’m going to find a way to escape. I’m going to keep trying to get away from you,” Henry said, his voice returning to something resembling normal. “Because I hate you.” For a moment, Joey just stared at him blankly. 

“You don’t…mean that…do you?” He asked quietly, head starting to twitch. 

“I do.” 

Joey watched him, his expression unreadable. Then he had Henry on the ground, his eyes turning black as ink began to drip from all of his orifices. The room grew darker, the air thicker. His hands were around Henry’s neck. 

“You can’t hate me.” He said, eyes wide and wild. “W͜e͝’re ̴f͞r͡i̸e̷nd̵s̛.̧” His voice was starting to distort. Henry knew he’d gone too far. He’d grown arrogant. Joey hadn’t hurt him yet, so Henry had assumed he wouldn’t. 

“We’re friends, right?” Joey smiled wide. “I would do anything for you, Henry. You know that. You̶ ̕k̢ńow ̴th̡a̷t̕.” 

Despite not actually needing to breathe, Henry found himself struggling to breathe. Joey’s grip was tight. Henry’s lungs burned with a need for oxygen that he hadn’t felt in quite a while now. 

“You’ve been very bad, Henry.” Joey’s smile was manic now. “You’ve been very bad and now I need to punish you.” His hands moved up to hold Henry’s head. All of a sudden, every part of Henry’s body was on fire. He’d never felt pain like this in his life. Then, every memory of everything terrible that had ever happened to him began flashing through his mind. He saw Linda die over and over again. 

“I’m sorry, Henry.” Joey began to calm a little, leaning down to press a kiss to Henry’s forehead as his friend screamed. “I hope you’ll learn your lesson after this. I don’t want to hurt you. I really don’t. But you left me no choice.” Henry kept screaming. He would continue until Joey allowed him a reprieve.

When Joey finally let him go, Henry was limp in his arms. All the fight had left him, at least for the moment. Joey cradled him to his chest, cooing and rocking him. 

“It’s alright, Henry.” He assured him. “Everything will be alright.” As long as he had Henry, everything would be fine. Maybe now, Henry would learn his lesson. Joey didn’t want to do this again.

#bendy and the ink machine #batim saudade au #fanfiction #henry #joey drew #murray hill #tw: torture #tw: emotional abuse

[rreader]

Hello dearie! Could I have a Jekyll x reader prompt where the reader grew up close friends with Victor and has a deep passion for science (but since she is a lady, she wasn't allowed to attend higher education, though it doesn't stop her from reading/studying anything she can) she helps Victor and Jekyll with their experiments but he is very standoffish towards her because he thinks he's a monster, but she explains that he is a beautiful soul. And just lots of fluff? Thank you so much dearie!

Pairing: Henry Jekyll x ReaderFandom: Penny DreadfulWarnings: angst

A/N: so, idk how but this turned out to be 6 and a half pages. I literally didn’t realize it until it was finished haha. anyways, hope you like it my love

                                                          *****

“Ugh!This isn’t working, Victor!” Henry threw the phial against thewall, his face red with anger.

They’vebeen trying to find a cure for Lily’s “sickness” for weeks now,experimenting on various subjects, both male and and female, bothhealthy and sick. But they’ve yet to have a breakthrough. Nothingseemed to work and if it did, only for a couple of hours. Nothingpermanent.

Andthat’s what they needed.

Apermanent cure.

Victorstood in front of the, now dead, patient, his hand holding his chin,deep in thought.

Whenhe asked Dr. Jekyll for help, he thought that they’d find a cure in amatter of weeks. Now it’s been two months and they barely managed to get anyresults.

Whathe needed, was a third pair of eyes.

Andthere was only one person he considered equally as intelligent ashimself and Jekyll.

“Ihave to go. I’ll be back in a couple of hours,” he grabbed his coatand walked towards the door.

“What?!Where are you going?”

ButVictor was already out the door, leaving a confused Henry and a deadpatient behind.

                                                             ***

“My,my.. Dr. Victor Frankenstein,” you leaned against the wall,cleaning your hands on a towel, a small smile set on your lips, uponseeing your childhood friend, “What brings you to this side oftown?”

Victorturned around, matching your smile and approaching you, but thenquickly stopping before he could put his arms around you, noticing all theblood on your dress.

You followed his look.

“It’snot mine. I might not officially be a Doctor, but I’m the best theyhave here. And it’s not always pretty, as you well know.”

“ThatI do know, my friend. It’s been too long.”

“Whichisn’t my fault,” you looked at him from under your eyelashes, asmirk on your lips.

Indeed.

Itwasn’t.

WhenVictor had begun his experiments, he had neglected your friendship.He could be glad that you weren’t someone who held grudges, especially not when it came down to Victor. He’s been good to you,through all the years. He valued your opinions when others didn’t andhe didn’t see you as an invalid, just because of your gender. Youwere an equal to him.

“Ineed your skills, (Y/N).”

“DoI not get any further information?”

“I’mafraid not.. not here. I will explaineverything once we’re at the lab.”

Yousighed and turned around, looking at all the patients that werewaiting.

“Youhave one hour. Then I will have to go back.”

Victornodded.

Anhour was all it would take to convince you to help him, he was sureof it.

Youhad been fascinated by the idea of bringing back the dead just asmuch as he was. Or had been. If you knew that he had succeeded, you’dbe intrigued for sure.

                                                             ***

“Henry!I have the solution to all our problems!”

Jekyllgot up from his desk and approached him.

“Finally!Where have you been?”

Youjoined Victor at his side and smiled at Henry.

“Dr.Jekyll. It’s good to see you again.”

Henry’sjaw dropped slightly. He hadn’t had the first idea where Victor hadrun off to, and while it made sense that he had asked you to come, hehadn’t expected it.

Andhe certainly hadn’t been prepared for it.

Whenhe realized that he had been staring at you like a moron, he quicklyclosed his mouth and nodded, keeping his distance.

“Miss(Y/L/N).”

“Miss(Y/L/N)? We’ve known each other for years, Henry. Don’t be soformal,” you approached him and got up on your tiptoes to kiss hischeek once, “I’ve missed you,” the second your lips touched hisskin, you could feel him stiffen.

Victorcoughed slightly, feeling like the third wheel in the room.

Andhe really wanted to get to the experiments. You’d have time to catch up, eventually.

“Idon’t mean to ruin the moment, but we should get to it.”

“Iagree,” Henry took that opportunity to get some distance betweenyou two and walked back towards his desk.

“Alright,then. What’s this about?”

“Youmight want to sit down,” Victor pointed towards two chairs andwhile you eyed him suspiciously, you did what he asked.

Hetried to summarize everything that had happened since you last saweach other in a few sentences. He told you about his first failures,his successions and his final mistake, Lily. He told you everythinghe could about her and it felt like you were children again, whenVictor told you about his crushes. You listened like you always did,wrote down every important piece of information and when he told youwhat he and Henry where trying to achieve, you finally set down thepen and sighed.

Hadyou expected something insane?

Absolutely.

Hadyou expected it to be this insane?

God,no.

WhenVictor saw you hesitate, he grabbed your hands.

“Youare my last hope, (Y/N). I need this cure to work. I just.. I need itto work,” his voice was desperate. He seemed to really love thisLily. But this.. this was wrong.

“Whatyou’ve achieved, Victor, is a miracle. But what you’re planning now..I don’t know if I can be a part of this.”

Victor’seyes were pleading, pretty much begging you to help him.

Untilyou finally sighed and closed your eyes.

“Iwill think about it. That is the best I can offer for now,” you gotup and put your hand on his cheek, kissing his forehead.

Thenyou walked towards the door, passing by Henry’s desk.

“Andyou’re part of this madness, then?”

“Yes.”

Younarrowed your eyes at him.

Still acting weird, apparently.

                                                         ***

Ittook you a week to come to a final decision.

WhatVictor and Henry tried to do wasn’t something you were comfortablewith, but having an evil immortal running around who was killingpeople in this city wasn’t something you were alright with either.You had to find a middle ground between what they were trying to achieveand the morals you believed in.

Youmight not have had attended university with the boys, but you had spentyour entire life reading up on things, getting every piece ofinformation you could find. And you already had some ideas on how tomake this experiment work, without taking everything from Lily.

Whenyou opened the door to their lab, Victor didn’t seem to be there.

Henrywas back at his desk, scribbling down notes, but turning around whenhe heard the door open.

“MayI?”

“Ifyou must.”

Henryhad always been more distant than Victor. There’s been a time whenyou thought he simply didn’t like you.. but then, one day, when hehad had too much to drink and something had happened in his family that he didn’t wish to discuss, youand him had talked and then he had suddenly kissed you.

Butever since that day, he had distanced himself even more.

Maybethis was your time to finally talk to him about it.

Youclosed the door behind you and walked over to his desk.

“Whatare you doing?”

“Working.”

“Onthe experiment?”

“Yes.”

Younodded and nibbled on your lower lip.

“Henry?Can we.. talk?”

“I’mquite busy.”

Youput your hand over his to stop him from writing down any furthernotes.

“Please.It won’t take long.”

Hepulled back his hand like fire had burned him, then he got up andwalked to the other side of the room, his back facing you.

“Whathave I done wrong to upset you so?” you didn’t follow him. If heneeded distance, then distance you’d give him.

“Youhaven’t.”

“Thenwhy are you still acting this way? I thought you.. liked me once”

Youremembered the kiss. He might have been drunk and it might have beensloppy at first, but the more your lips touched, the more he seemedto have sobered up. You could still feel his hands on your body, hishot breath against your skin..

“Youneed a normal man. Not someone like me. I’m not good for you.”

“Firstof all, I decide what’s good for me and what isn’t. And second, youdon’t know me very well if you think a normal man interests me in anyform or manner,” you still kept your distance, but you reallywanted to put your hands on his cheeks and make him understand that,despite of his past, you still cared for him, “You are special tome, Henry. You’ve always been special to me.”

Amuscle in his jaw twitched, his eyes still staring at the wall infront of him.

Eversince he had known you, he had been fascinated by you. He alwaysthought he has had problems in pursuing his medical career. But thenyou showed up, not even being allowed to attend the school and yetknowing just as much as Victor and himself in the field of medicine.With every day you had spent together, he had fallen more and morefor you.

Butthis side of him.. this side he could barely tame.. it was hardenough to deal with it on his own. But to put such burden on you?No.. you didn’t deserve that.

“Please,look at me,” your voice was pleading. All you wanted was for him tosee himself like you saw him.

Nota monster at all, but an intelligent young man who’s determinationhad brought him to where he was now. He was an inspiration, for sure.

Finally,after taking some deep breaths, he turned around and immediatelyrelaxed when he saw the kind smile that had formed on your lips.

“You’rea great man. An amazing scientist. And an even better kisser,” youchuckled and cocked your head to the side. Henry couldn’t help butsmile as well, “And you are the man I want to be with. Always have, ever since I met you.”

Helet out a long breath, staring into your eyes from across the room,searching for a lie.

Buthe found none.

Maybehe had finally found his match, who accepted him like he was, withall his flaws. And he still believed that he didn’t deserve you, butperhaps, in time, he could become a man worthy of you.

Slowly,he made his way over to you, raised his hand and put it under yourchin.

“Doyou really want this?”

“Withall my heart.”

Andwhen his lips met yours again, it felt like you had sealed yourfuture with a kiss.

#cynicalselkie #henry jekyll x reader #jekyll x reader #dr jekyll x reader #dr henry jekyll x reader #henry jekyll imagine #dr jekyll imagine #dr henry jekyll imagine #jekyll imagine #penny dreadful imagine #pd imagine #henry jekyll #jekyll #dr jekyll #dr henry jekyll #pd #penny dreadful #reader #requests

[possiblyimbiassed]

What “stories” is Mary referring to?

OK, of course, I see; that’s it – the stories. Conan Doyles’ amazing detective stories at the hands of our “Baker Street boys” have once again been interpreted into a new adaptation, this time played out in our own modern times. But it’s still about these wonderful stories; nothing else matters.

But wait – what ‘stories’ exactly do you refer to, Mary / AGRA / Rosamund / Gabrielle-or-whatever-your-name-is? Series 4 may have lots of Conan Doyle canon references, but why doesn’t it have a single coherent crime story? Not one!

If the cases were that important, wouldn’t we be able to follow them as they unfold, basking in the brilliance of these fascinating adventures and their clever resolutions? Or at least be privy to some logical deductions and conclusions about them from the great detective Sherlock Holmes, narrated by his loyal friend Dr John Watson?

I think the ‘stories & adventures’ approach, in a traditional meaning, might be valid up until the beginning of Series 3, but then the coherent plot line gets abandoned in favour of a rather different content. Which means Mary’s words about ‘stories’ above may not be relevant. So – why not take a closer look at all of this show’s stories to see if they actually merit the name? I’ll go through all of them one by one since Series 1, focusing on the factual events in them, trying to evaluate their narrative interest as plot line and see where we end up in S4. I will try to not go into any personal issues for Sherlock Holmes or other characters – just the stories, as ‘objectively’ and free of Sentiment that I’m capable of. (And this is a monster post, so please bear with me).

For a start: A Study in Pink in Series 1 gives us the background where Holmes first meets former army doctor John Watson, whom he offers to be his flat mate. Watson moves in and Holmes takes him on their first ‘adventure’ -  a creepy crime story of a serial killer cabbie who ‘persuades’ his victims to commit suicide. His MO is to lure them into his cab, drive them to some remote location and threaten them to play Russian roulette with him by taking pills. Holmes helps the police (New Scotland Yard) with the case, but some of them distrust Holmes, and when he withholds a piece of evidence, they come to Holmes flat on a drug bust (finding nothing). Holmes does solve the case, however, and we are privy to his impressive deductions to get there; one of them involving the pink colour of a missing suitcase and another a desperate clue from a dying victim to find her murderer. Holmes gets in personal grave danger from the cabbie, but Watson saves him in the last moment by killing the culprit. Fair enough; I think this is a really good, intriguing detective story!

Next: In The Blind Banker Holmes and Watson get involved in a crime case with a mystic killer, who murders his victims in rooms locked from the inside (making it look like suicides). Cracking ciphers and codes and doing interesting deductions that we can follow, Holmes solves this one too, with some help from Watson. It turns out there’s a Chinese crime syndicate behind the murders, dealing with drugs and ancient stolen treasures, and a killer “spider man” who climbs buildings to execute their murders. Holmes, Watson and a third person get in serious trouble, but Watson saves the day in the culmination of the adventure. 

Interesting story, I’d say (if it weren’t for the rather prejudiced depicting of Asian people, perhaps…)

Series 1 culminates with The Great Game, where a super-villain manages to get Holmes’ attention by wrapping his victims up in explosives (as if they were suicide bombers) and make the detective solve other crime puzzles to save their lives. Every puzzle is marked by a ‘pip’ on a mobile phone, five of them in total. Holmes solves all of them (among them a case of “national importance”, involving a stolen secret memory stick that his brother wants recovered for the government). At the end Watson is kidnapped and wrapped in explosives to threaten Holmes. He doesn’t defeat the super-villain, which makes for a nice cliffhanger. The stories are thrilling and exciting, and the deductions are made clear to the audience.

First out in Series 2 is A Scandal in Belgravia, where a ‘femme fatal’ Dominatrix is working on Holmes to deceive him through ‘Sentiment’. The case starts with Holmes’ mission to recover some compromising photos of a royal person from the Dominatrix’s locked camera phone. But it soon turns into a case where the government (and the CIA) is trying to lure international terrorists into a trap by sending up an aircraft full of dead corpses for them to blow up. The Dominatrix (who is actually working for the super-villain) is supposed to make Holmes crack the code to the governmental operation in order to warn the terrorists. Which he does, with an amazing deduction that ends in:

She succeeds in this by getting his emotional attention, but Holmes defeats her in the end by breaking into her camera phone, and hands her secrets over to the government. In this episode Holmes also solves some other crime puzzles, some of which are told as mere fragments (if we want to know more about them, we can read John Watson’s blog).  The main narrative is a bit confused and convoluted, but I’d still say it’s a good, coherent story.

The Hounds of Baskerville is perhaps the story that is most similar to Doyle’s original. Holmes and Watson travel to Dartmoor to solve a case in which the young client Henry Knight thinks he’s going crazy. Henry believes a legendary gigantic hound was the killer of his father 20 years earlier (a crime he witnessed as a child), and he’s having creepy visions and sightings of this monster. Holmes suspects that the nearby top-secret military laboratory Baskerville is involved in the supposed appearances of the hound. Genetic cloning experiments with animals at Baskerville are suspected at first, but then Holmes concludes that the Hound is partly a figment of people’s imaginations. Henry Knight turns suicidal, but Holmes’ deductions save him in the last moment and the murderer who has been ‘gas-lighting’ Henry (a scientist at Baskerville) is revealed. When people’s sightings of a big, salvaged dog on the moor combines with the effect of a hallucinatory drug applied by aerosol, the result is the impression of a monster. Holmes’ deductions are presented for the audience to follow step-by-step, accompanying the plot line. This is a classical, fascinating detective story.

In The Reichenbach Fall the super-villain is back again, this time with an elaborate plan to disgrace Holmes and drive him to suicide. He starts by committing a series of sensational crimes and gets away with them in spite of overwhelming evidence, just because he can. His plans also involve poisoning children and make them fear the very sight of Sherlock Holmes. Holmes finds the kidnapped children through chemical lab analysis of their traces and clever deductions (which we can follow). But then Holmes get blamed for this crime and others, after the villain has influenced a tabloid scandal journalist. Four snipers are placed in Holmes’ neighbourhood, ready to kill Watson and two other of Holmes’ closest friends, unless he throws himself from a rooftop.

The villain shoots himself in the head, but this only permanents the sniper threat; Holmes has to jump. At the end of the episode, the audience knows that Holmes must have faked his death and somehow survived the fall, but we’re left to figure out how. The story line is thrilling, coherent and easy to follow.

Series 3 and The Empty Hearse starts with an explanation of how Holmes survived “The Fall”. This, however, is where the plot line starts to derail and lose credibility. We never get to know the real events of Holmes’ fall, but are introduced to a Holmesian Fandom within the series, with their respective versions of how the detective survived, one of them more outrageous than the other.  Holmes, who has spent two years traveling around to dismantle the super-villain’s network, is captured and tortured by Serbian criminals wearing WWII Red Army uniforms. When he gets back to London, however, he doesn’t seem to be the least bothered by his wounds. He gets involved in a case concerning a skeleton and a book by Jack the Ripper, which turns out to be a fake crime arranged by a former police officer (same guy who accused Holmes of being a fraud in the previous episode; what was his motive?).

Watson, who is reluctant to forgive Holmes for having played dead, gets drugged, kidnapped and tied up in a bonfire (we aren’t told by whom), but Holmes finds out where he is kept (through cracking a skip code), and sets off to rescue Watson. The main story about a planned terrorist attack on London is sketchy, to say the least (I’m afraid reality vastly surpasses BBC Sherlock fiction when it comes to terrorist attacks). We are allowed to follow some of Holmes’ deductions to locate a bomb in the subway, but several plot holes become evident: When did Holmes call the police?

Why did Holmes and Watson go down in the subway to diffuse a bomb with their bare hands? Why did the bomb have an off-switch, when no-one was supposed to be there when it exploded? Which organization was behind the attack? What were their motives? The plot seems secondary in this episode!

The Sign of Three focuses entirely on Watson’s wedding, and Holmes - who hates social gatherings - abandons his work in favor of a full-time commitment to plan the reception, down to the tiniest details of table decorations and who is to sit together with whom. None of these details turns out to be relevant to the story, however (plot-wise: WTF?). We’re now told in Holmes’ best man speech that his and Watson’s adventures are “frankly ridiculous”.

We do see flashes of cases to entertain the guests, but the only more or less coherent case happens on the wedding reception. Most deductions now take place inside Holmes’ head - his so-called Mind Palace. It turns out that the wedding photographer tried to murder one of the guests by stabbing him in the waist from his backside with a thin blade, while rehearsing for a group photo. The victim is supposed to not have noticed the stabbing until he took off his uniform belt (WTF?). When the victim is informed of this he threatens to commit suicide by removing his belt, which Holmes manages to talk him out of, so Watson can give him medical treatment. The photographer is captured; Holmes makes one more deduction about Watson’s wife being pregnant (which none of the parents are aware of?) and leaves the party early.

His Last Vow is the series final and plot-wise the most problematic episode, many times crossing the border of credibility. I’d definitely call this “frankly ridiculous”; it seems to contain more plot holes than a Swiss cheese and the kind of fantastic exaggerations one might expect from someone high on drugs.

Holmes is engaged in a blackmail case, involving prominent members of the government. The blackmailer is a powerful media magnate. Watson and his wife go to a drug den to rescue their neighbour’s son, where Watson also finds Holmes lying on a mattress. They take him to a hospital lab to test his blood for drugs. Holmes claims his drug use is for the blackmail case, which his friends dismiss. Members of Holmes’ fan club search his flat for drugs (sounds illegal to me), but find nothing. Later the blackmailer visits Holmes, intimidating him and showing him the letters he is using to put pressure on Holmes’ client. Holmes and Watson go to the blackmailer’s office later that night, to recover the letters. They manage to get through the security with help from the black-mailer’s PA, whom Holmes has a fake relationship with and fake-proposes to. (How she can buy this is an enigma, but that’s food for another meta).

Inside the office they find Holmes’ ‘fiancée’ unconscious on the floor. They smell a perfume that both Watson’s wife and Holmes’ client use. Holmes interrupts a scene where Watson’s wife is threatening the blackmailer at gunpoint. She turns out to be an assassin who is being blackmailed, but when Holmes offers help she turns the gun on him and shoots him in the chest.

In a matter of seconds, Holmes uses his Mind Palace to try to find advice on how to survive the gunshot. Watson finds him, takes him to hospital and Holmes ‘flat-lines’ on the operation table, but somehow he manages to restart his own heart (?). We then see Watson’s wife entering Holmes’ hospital room, threatening him to keep quiet. Later the ‘fiancée’ (already fully recovered from the blow to her head that rendered her unconscious), visits Holmes, fiddles with his IV morphine and shows him how she, as revenge for his fake proposal, is selling stories about their supposedly intensive sex life to the tabloid press (why would fame as a sex-god be a punishment?)

Somehow, shortly after this, the seriously injured and recently operated Holmes manages to flee the hospital room and arrange a whole scene of revelation to Watson. He escapes through the window, buys a bottle of perfume, travels to Baker Street, moves back Watson’s heavy chair, places the perfume beside it as a clue and calls Watson at the same time he discovers the clue. Together with Doctor Watson (who apparently is OK with Holmes leaving hospital) he travels to the fake houses of Leinster Gardens and arranges a set-up for Watson’s wife, involving her highly enlarged wedding photo projected on the walls. Not bad for a man recently shot in the chest, is it? ;)

When she arrives, she (unknowingly) reveals in front of Watson that she shot his best friend, having no remorse about it. Holmes orders them back to Baker Street to “sort it out quickly”, because they “have work to do” (what work?).  

Oh dear storyteller, what did you take? Did you make a list? Anyway, the ‘story’ continues at Baker Street: Holmes is crumpling from pain, but there are no painkillers. Doctor Watson throws a tantrum and threatens his injured friend. Holmes makes excuses for his killer with some of the most ridiculous ‘deductions’ I’ve seen in the whole show. Then the meddlesome bastard (sorry, couldn’t resist – Sentiment got the better of me), before being taken back to hospital in an ambulance, goads Watson to trust his assassin wife claiming that she saved his life, at the same time as he accuses Watson of being attracted to this sort of people. The timeline jumps backwards and forwards between this scene and Christmas at the Holmes family House where Watson reconciles with his wife, while claiming that he doesn’t want to know who she really is an burns the memory stick she has given him with this info.

For the first time in the show, Holmes utterly fails to solve a case, leading to the suicide of his client’s blackmailed husband. Holmes and Watson go to the blackmailer’s luxury house to make a deal for Watson’s wife, but when things don’t go as he had planned, Holmes shoots the blackmailer in the head. (Where are his clever deductions to solve a tricky case? Since when is Holmes a murderer? Where is the coherence of this story? I’m loosing track here). The episode ends with Holmes being sent away on a private jet to a suicide mission in Eastern Europe, but he is immediately called back when the dead super-villains face is suddenly projected on every TV screen in the country.

The Abominable Bride is called a “Special” episode, since it mostly takes place in a Victorian setting inside Sherlock Holmes’ head. He re-plays his first meeting with Watson in the Victorian environment, and then starts to solve crimes involving a murderous bride who fakes her own suicide and re-appears as a ghost.

There’s also a conspiracy of women in hoods, having some sort of cult connected to the ghost bride, in a desanctified church. The dead super-villain shows up trice, challenging Holmes and drawing his attention to the fact that he’s dreaming. On two occasions Holmes seems to wake up on the private jet after severely overdosing drugs, met by Watson, his wife and Holmes’ brother. But they never really take him to hospital, and when the episode ends Holmes is still in the Victorian setting. All in all, the plot line’s total lack of coherence and logics is fully explained by it all happening in a drug-induced, dreamlike state inside Holmes’ head. So even if the actual story is missing here, I find this episode far more ‘logical’ than HLV.

The Six Thatchers marks the start of Series 4, and the plot lines (there are more than one) are bizarre, to say the least. In fact, it’s so weird and illogical that I would definitely not call this a ‘coherent story’.

First of all we see how the government covers up the fact that Holmes now is a murderer, supposedly so he can work on the case of the super-villain’s return with top priority. But he never solves anything about the super-villain; this whole plotline seems to just vanish!

Instead, there’s this other case where the corpse of a young man is found when his car explodes, having been dead for a week. Holmes explains to the shocked parents that the boy had disguised himself as a car seat, as a practical joke on his father’s birthday, when he suddenly had some sort of fit and died on the spot. Holmes’ deductions seems like wild speculation with next to no evidence. Why would this guy go to the trouble of finding a vinyl car seat disguise (where do you get such a thing by the way?) to surprise his father, when he could easily just have hidden in the dark of the back seat? And how likely is it that in this precise moment, he would have ‘some sort of fit’? But suddenly Holmes’ ‘prickling of thumbs’ are valid, rather than his hallmark logical methods.

At first the other plot line is similar to Arthur Conan Doyle’s story The Six Napoleons: Six plaster busts of Thatcher are smashed, the owners have the same names as ACD gave them, one person is murdered and Watson is suggesting that the culprit has an idée fixe. However, instead of discovering the precious Pearl of the Borgias in one bust, which was the canon case and what Holmes also expects this time, we end up with – a memory stick about Watson’s wife and her gang of assassins? The culprit of the smashings is another member, and he accuses Watson’s wife of treason in an earlier operation when they worked for the government. When Holmes meets up with her for an explanation, she drugs him with some sort of dust from a letter, which he deliberately sniffs on, and she disappears.

Then we follow Watson’s wife on her escape through many countries under several aliases. At one point she knocks out (kills?) a stewardess and steels her identity. When Holmes and Watson find her in Morocco (through a tracker on her memory stick) everything is forgiven without discussion, and Holmes swears to protect her. Instead of Watson’s wife, Holmes accuses a member of the government of treason.

But he is wrong (again) and the traitor turns out to be a governmental secretary, who also tries to shoot Holmes. Seeing this, Watson’s wife somehow manages to move faster than the bullet (??) and takes it for him. In a long speech, with a bleeding wound in her abdomen, she declares her eternal love for her husband and, for the first time, apologizes for shooting Holmes. Then she dies. For some odd reason Watson blames Holmes for her death, and cuts all contact with his best friend. But John’s wife leaves behind a recorded DVD with a strange message where she tells Holmes to go to hell to save John Watson.

In The Lying Detective many elements are taken directly from Conan Doyle’s The Dying Detective: Mrs Hudson seeks out Watson to tell him that Holmes is in a very bad shape. We then see him in a haggard state, babbling deliriously, and we learn, along with Watson, that Holmes is dying.

This picture of Watson looking at Holmes’ hospital bed...

...fits nicely with this quote from ACD canon: “I had stood for some minutes looking at the silent figure in the bed”.

Holmes then lures the criminal, Culverton Smith, to confess that he is trying to kill Holmes. At the end of the story, Holmes takes Watson out for dinner (“cake” in TLD).  

However, while Conan Doyle’s version is a perfectly coherent crime story, TLD is not. Doyle has Holmes explain the actual crime case: the murder of Smith’s nephew Victor Savage. Holmes has figured out that Smith killed Savage by poisoning him with a mortal disease. Holmes’ disguise is just a setup to make Smith confess, while gloating over both Savages’ and Holmes’ death.

On the other hand, in TLD, Holmes claims that Smith is a serial killer; he calls him “the most dangerous, the most despicable human being that I have ever encountered” and he shoots pictures of Smith on the walls of 221B. But who did this ‘monster’ kill? We don’t get to know about a single victim! Lestrade seems nauseated when Smith keeps confessing, but we never, ever get to know what the man has actually done. The only killing in TLD is instigated by Holmes himself; Holmes has told Smith that he wants Smith to kill him. And Holmes’ purpose with this is to make Smith confess that he is trying to kill Holmes. Redundant, isn’t it? What kind of ‘crime story’ is this? Holmes later tells Watson in TLD that the recording device he has used (hidden in Watson’s cane) qualifies as “entrapment”, which invalidates the confession. But since Smith supposedly has kept confessing other crimes (which we aren’t privy to) that’s enough to have him arrested. In canon Watson serves as a witness to the confession of the Savage murder, which is just what is needed to get Smith arrested. But in TLD Watson comes to rescue Holmes from a self-inflicted attack - in other words: Holmes’ suicide attempt.

In general, the other plot lines of TLD are even more ridiculous than in T6T, and the episode is perforated with plot holes that are never explained. Which is why I prefer to present them as questions below:

Why is Euros Holmes (Sherlock’s hitherto unknown sister) disguised as her brother’s suicidal client who walks the streets of London with him, only to suddenly leave him alone? Why does she fake being suicidal in the first place?  Why has she disguised herself as Watson’s new therapist? Why does she want to capture Watson?

Why is Watson haunted by a ghost of his deceased wife? Why so much focus on Watson’s wife in general, even when it doesn’t move the plot forward in any sense? 

If Mrs Hudson were worried about Holmes’ health, why would she put him handcuffed in the boot of a car and drive like crazy? And why would the guys from the café drop Holmes twice “because they know you”? 

Why would Molly Hooper bring an ambulance when going to examine a patient? Since when does she even do medical consulting; isn’t her expertise post mortem? And after her diagnosis that her patient is dying; why don’t they take him to hospital to help him rather than having him answer questions to a bunch of kids?

Since when does Watson do deductions (here in the form of his dead wife in his head doing deductions) to figure out how Holmes does deductions to predict Watson’s future plans? Couldn’t Watson otherwise just – I don’t know – plan them? And how the heck can Holmes predict future events involving actions of various people in detail and with an exact timing?

What happened with TD12, the memory-altering drug; weren’t they actually going to use this plot device? 

How can Watson assault Holmes, beat him to a pulp, be captured by the hospital staff, but then it’s suddenly said that Holmes has made a mess of himself? 

How can DI Lestrade know about Holmes shooting the blackmailer in HLV, when that was supposed to be highly classified information?

Sorry Mary, but I can’t see even the trace of an actual story or adventure here, since none of all these questions is answered satisfactory. And the characters are so distorted, compared to how we know them from before, that the plot line gets extremely confusing.

The Final Problem is presented as if it was the last episode of BBC Sherlock, but this is never actually confirmed by the writers.  As for the plot line, it’s so ridiculously convoluted, surrealistic and inconsequent that I simply refuse to call it a “story” at all; it’s much more similar to a nightmare.

When Holmes has learnt about Euros - his hitherto unknown sister - he sets up some sort of horror theatre with clowns, bleeding portraits and other tricks to scare his brother into telling him the truth.  

We learn that Sherlock Holmes’ brother Mycroft as a teenager took to incarcerate their mentally ill sister in Sherrinford - an isolated, top-secret fortress out in the sea. Their parents thought she was dead (never investigated?) and Holmes has, strangely, forgotten all about her. While Mycroft is telling Holmes and Watson this in 221B, a drone flies in with a patience grenade that will explode if anything in its surroundings moves. Holmes and Watson jump out of the second floor window as the apartment blows up, but we never see them land on the pavement below. Instead they suddenly appear - without a scratch - on a fishing boat heading for Sherrinford. They highjack the boat, claiming they are pirates and, together with Mycroft, sneak into the fortress in disguises.

Pretty soon it gets clear that the dangerously intelligent Euros has taken over the fortress and manipulates people into doing her bidding. The persons Holmes and Watson have met as “Faith”, “E” and John’s new therapist are all one and the same person; Euros in disguise. Euros starts to perform a series of cruel experiments on Watson and the Holmes brothers. First she tries to force one of them to kill the governor of Sherrinford, threatening to kill his wife otherwise. When none of them can do this, the governor shoots himself, and then Euros kills his wife anyway. Next she shows them three men, bound and dangling from a cliff. She forces Sherlock to figure out who of them is guilty of murder, but when he obeys she kills all three. In the next experiment Euros has Sherlock phone Molly Hooper and make her say “I love you” to him – otherwise her flat will be blown up.  But Molly doesn’t know this, and before declaring to Sherlock, she makes him say the same thing to her. Sherlock thinks he has won this one, but Euros claims that he has only managed to hurt Molly (who is in unrequited love with Sherlock).

All the time at Sherrinford, Holmes has somehow been in voice contact with a frightened little girl who is on-board a jet plane in the air, full of sleeping adults (including the pilot). He tries to get information from this girl, but their communication is constantly interrupted by Euros.

In the fourth experiment Sherlock has to choose between killing either Watson or Mycroft. Instead he chooses to shoot himself, but Euros stops him with a tranquilizer arrow. He sinks into a black liquid and wakes up in a room, which turns out to be a wooden box with walls that fall apart, and he ends up outside his old family manor. He can somehow hear Watson, who is chained at the bottom of a well, telling him that the water is rising. At the same time Euros’ voice presents the fifth experiment: he has to solve a puzzle to save Watson from the well. Once he manages it, he finds Euros in a room of the old house; it turns out she was the little girl on the plane (and now there is no plane anymore). Sherlock hugs her and tells her it’s all right, and then he finds Watson and rescues him with a rope (which is strange considering the chains). The police come and take Euros back to Sherrinford, where she stops communicating with people, except Sherlock, who plays violin in duet with her when visiting.

The series ends with 221B being rebuilt, Holmes and Watson solving cases (which we aren’t privy to) and a strange voice-over from Watson’s wife, who has sent a posthumous message to them on a DVD (see the beginning of this monster-post).

While these events in TFP are technically crimes, I wouldn’t call them ‘detective stories’ or ‘adventures’ because a) No actual motive is presented for any of the cases other than that Euros ‘wanted to play’; her actions are completely illogical, and b) They are too surrealistic to be even plausible in real life and c) There are no satisfactory solutions to the ‘crime cases’, except for the last one.

I can’t for the life of me believe that the twisted fairy tales of S4 are meant to be some sort of detective stories. If I try to take Series 4 at face value, I can’t find any kind of narrative quality that even resembles ACD’s legendary Sherlock Holmes adventures. So what is ‘Mary’ actually talking about?  What stories?? 

The impression I do get is that in Series 4 the authors are trying very hard to tell us something through subtext. The only way I can make sense of it is interpreting it as something very different than a story; Sentiment, dream logics and a continuation of Sherlock’s drug-induced imaginations in TAB.

#bbc sherlock vs canon #emp theory #sherlock series 4 #sherlock meta #Sherlock #s4 is fake #s4 doesn't make sense

[docandprof]

Why Did This Week Suck and Not Suck so Much?

Salutations good sir!

Man this week was a rollercoaster of emotions. Honestly probably one of the hardest weeks I have ever endured. But before that, lemme take a hot sec to answer some of your questions and comment on you. First and foremost, I'm SUPER proud of you and how much of an adult you are becoming! Your life seems, if not more than, as crazy as mine does. It always brings a smile to my face when you tell me how you are breaking out of your shell in more social and professional environments because when it’s us and the gang, you are more than sociable, so I see it as more the world is getting to see the true version of you, a dorky pensive goofball. Even though this wasn't in your post, because we talk outside of said blog, I was really happy that Lyss was able to go see you two and spend some time with ya. I can’t wait to see you all for Thanksgiving, which is just a few short weeks away!! Also, when are you coming home for that? I'm gonna be in Iowa from that Tuesday until maybe Friday morning so I wanna see you when I can before I have to leave again. You might have to share me with Jaynie at that point because I'm not gonna have tons of time to see everyone. Ummmm your question for the week was kinda hard because I would want everything to be magical. Buuuuut, if I had to choose, I would probably go with something inconspicuous like a magic watch that when you open it or interact with it in whichever way the player sees fit, a portal opens from which you can pull/store anything like Hermione's bag. Or it’s imbued with some sort of element and you can get creative with what it can affect, like you click it and you turn into a flame-man or different parts of you take on the characteristics of the different elements a la Ben 10. So yeah, something like that.

Now for my week in retrospect! Let’s see, Halloween here at school is more of a big deal on the weekend (Halloweekend is what they call it) because that is when all the parties are, so I stayed in and studied and did work like a good lil noodle. I did dress up in my Superman onesie while I did work so that was kinda in the Halloween spirit. So lemme just preface what my academic week entailed and then we can get into it. Monday: 3-4 page Spanish paper was due, Tuesday: Orgo lab report due, Wednesday: Test corrections due for my Bioclocks test, Spanish essay test, History of Warfare test where like every subject involved some iteration of Charles, Frederick, Philip, Henry or some Pope, Friday: massive Orgo test, big project due at midnight for my Brain Damage class, and another assignment for said class. And inbetween all of those things, I had to study for all 3 tests, perform a continuous sleep study on myself, help mediate/console 2 friends who are dating/like each other but being stupid so I'm being the good friend who listens and tries to help, AND still dealing with my own emotional shortcomings. Ok got the picture? Simple enough? Good. OH! And I planned out the rest of my classes for the rest of college in order to be prepared and efficient for class registration, which is tomorrow for me.

So I did what I had to do and I buckled down, studying and working on everything while trying to be a good friend for these two love birds. Now I think the earliest I ever got to sleep this past week was 3 in the morning, and I woke up at 8 every day, so my body was really pushing its limits. I didn't really feel stressed out in the beginning of the week, which is normal for me. You know me better than anyone, so you know that I'm pretty calm under pressure and don't panic, which I just consciously realized is all God. I always knew that everything I did wasn't by my own strength and that I am extremely blessed and favored, but it never really registered in me that the reason for my stress-free life is because I have faith in God that he will take care of me and everything will work out in accordance with his plan and if God provides for the birds, why would he not provide for his own beloved children. So that was pretty cool to actively know that. Now back from my sermon of the week to our previously scheduled programming. Totally ok during the week, and then Thursday hit. I was feeling like crap, like actual crap, no figure of speech there or excuse to include some profanity, I was really not feeling well. But I had already asked Nidhi if she wanted to go get breakfast that day at 9 because I haven't had a real breakfast in forever. I ate like 3 bites before I started to feel worse. So we do breakfast and then move to go do work. Standard stuff, studying, tried to eat a lil something for lunch, couldn't. So I went back to the house and kept studying until I finished the notes and felt like I had an ok grasp on the material. Later that day, my friend Jordan came over and we were studying together and she would ask me a question about something, but I just had no idea how to answer, so we moved on to the practice test which we both usually do pretty well on. But we couldn't even make it past the first question without having to look everything up and I was getting really frustrated at that point because I had been studying for over a week. Now at this same point in time, in addition to the friends in love problem thing, I was getting frustrated with myself over this whole Jaynie situation because I'm me and I haven't told her how I feel and it has been eating at me for a bit and she has been busy so we hadn't been talking a lot and you know how I get attached to the people around me, so not talking to one of my favorite people was pretty frustrating. And we were talking at the time of my failure to even attempt the practice test and I was telling her that I was getting frustrated amongst other things. She asked me what was wrong and if I wanted to talk about it, and I said yes and no because it’s complicated and I wanted to tell her everything but it’s hard to tell her some of the reason for my anxiety was because of her and my feelings for her so that worsened things on my end because she could tell I was losing it, so she used my own advice I gave to her earlier that week against me that I needed to talk to someone and not internalize my feelings. So at that point I kinda just lost it and left the house to go on a walk. I was gonna call you because I tell you everything, but it was like 1 in the morning at that point and you were asleep, and I was gonna call my dad because he and my brother have a close relationship and I know that he will always be up and willing to listen and give me some advice, but I didn't do any of that. Instead I called Jaynie. I had no idea what I was doing, but I knew that I had to hear her voice. Luckily she answered, and I was initially just gonna call and say thanks for helping me through it and that I was gonna call my dad afterwards, but I never did and we ended up talking for a little bit and it felt really good. She knew that the best way to calm me down was to ask me about other stuff like the crappy dodgeball game and some other stuff to get my mind off things and it was really just what I needed. We didn't really address anything else major, even though I really wanted to bring us up, but I didn't and after we were done on the phone she sent me nice text telling me that I always had someone to call and that I don't always have to be perfect. So outta my ashes of a first mental breakdown came some solace and some good in that one call. But yeah, that was my week.

As for this upcoming week, I'm pleased to announce that Jaynie will be coming back for the weekend because I invited her! Nidhi is dancing in the Diwali showcase on Saturaday, which is an Indian festival thing and she is super excited to do it, so I figured it would be a nice surprise if her best friend came into town to see her dance. But we are ALSO going to another concert after Nidhi’s dance and that is gonna be fun because we know the band personally. More on them later in the recommendations. And so we had this all set up to surprise Nidhi, but things kinda got twisted around logistically, so we had to tell Nidhi about it since Jaynie is gonna be staying the weekend with her and she didn't wanna just blindside her like that, so I told Nidhi what was going on and she was so happy, so I'm pretty excited for this weekend for 2 reasons, which are pretty obvious and need no further words ;). The only thing I have to get done this week is to write a research paper for Friday, but I think that’ll be ok. Life is on the upswing right now.

Ok recommendation: this band we are seeing is called Arlie, and the guitarist was the RA of the floor my friends and I hung out on all the time last year in Memorial and we are good friends with him. But they just signed a record deal, and they have their single out on Spotify right now and it is actually decently popular with like over a million listens already, so check out Arlie and their single because I think you would enjoy it. Question of the week: have you ever thought about watching Silicon Valley on HBO? I have seen the first episode and am wondering if you would like to watch with me? Oh, I also have watched all of the Bloodborne and Dark Souls 3 play throughs on IGN, so praise the sun for that!! Now that I have once again plot dumped on you, I bid thee farewell.

With all my love,

the doc

P.S. - don't forget to tell Dev happy birthday!!

#arlie #diwali #firstmentalbreakdown #itisdone

[lighterandpaper]

The Truth

Photo by @kuzelevdaniil

The next ten years slip by in routine. 

Everyone helps raise the children. They eat together three times a day. Laurie, Soren, and Henry work on rediscovering the cure for aging. George tells his stories in the afternoon while everyone lounges in the sunlight. 

The kids ask lots of questions, but without ever seeing anything die, they never ask any questions about death. They accept the reality with which they are presented. 

“We should tell them what we are doing. We should tell them about death,” Laurie says, particularly frustrated by trying to reverse engineer CRISPR gene editing with bacteria from Soren’s skin, but she can’t remember exactly how it works because she always got help with this part. 

“I agree,” Soren says. “But we do have a very interesting Buddha situation brewing. We might be accidentally creating enlightened beings... Or we could be just screwing them up.” 

“What the hell are you talking about?” 

“Have you not heard the Buddha story? He lives in a palace and only is exposed to young people and doesn’t learn about death until he sneaks out one day. When he sees old and dying people, he freaks out and tries to make sense of it. He eventually becomes enlightened--you know, the Buddha.” 

Laurie is staring at Soren with a dull, slightly annoyed expression. 

“What? Heard that one?” 

“Why don’t we just sit Jon down and explain what getting old is?” Henry says. He’s sitting on the floor. “He’s old enough now to understand.” 

“What if he tells Fate?” Laurie says. “That’s not really our business.” 

“Fate is a full-on adult,” Henry says. “She’s not going to worry about what Jon is babbling about. Besides, we can tell Jon to not tell her. He’s a good kid.” 

“Yeah...” Laurie says, hand to mouth. 

“Even we are always dying,” Soren says. “If cells in our body did not die on our behalf, it would destroy us. You have given us extended life, Laurie. But life still depends on death, even ours. By not telling the kids about death, you are doing them a disservice.” 

“I just want to be able to fix it first, and then tell them...” she says. 

“Did you not hear what I just said?” 

“I mean, yeah, I get what you mean, I’m just talking practically.” 

“So am I,” Soren says, partly to himself. 

 “I want to see if I can solve the CRISPR problem, then we can tell him. OK?” 

Henry smiles weakly. “Yeah.” 

“Thirty years, gone, just like that,” George says that afternoon with a snap of his fingers. “Seventy more to go, and they will be done before we know it. Time truly is a relative thing. I have enjoyed my time here more than I did a lot of my time on Earth. Of course, I will never take another moment on Earth for granted again. I think we all feel that way. We are truly the luckiest people in the history of the universe, to have the chance to leave home, and one day return.” George is in his usual plastic chair, in his usual white robes, preaching before he begins to tell his story. 

The crew sits around in their various spots. Little Jon is playing with toys that his dad made him, his back to everyone. 

“Just like his dad,” Tina says, leaning into Laurie. Laurie smiles at her son. 

Soren is meditating as usual, but likes to be near enough. Henry is working on another show, which is set to happen very soon; Laurie can tell without him saying. Anna sits close to George’s feet on a cushion. Horatio is by himself, sad that Fate has grown up. She is wandering around the dome, in a rebellious phase. 

“Why can’t I go out there?” she barks at her father a little while later, not afraid to embarrass him. 

Laurie avoids eye contact. 

“I told you, there are monsters out there...” George says. 

“Aunt Laurie told me they don’t kill. Aunt Laurie said--” 

“Aunt Laurie almost got your mother killed because of her curiosity. I was taken by that monster, Fate, and I know it would have killed me as soon as it would have looked at me.” 

“But it didn’t,” Fate says. “It didn’t kill you, did it?” 

George takes a deep breath. “It kept me alive until the end of my memory. But who knows after that.” 

“Exactly!” Fate says, arms wide. She looks like her father at that moment. “Who knows? We don’t know anything about what’s out there because you won’t let Laurie do her research. She says she saw people out there, and you all don’t care.” 

Laurie shakes her head no and looks at the floor. She hasn’t talked to Fate about this since she was a little girl; before everything happened. She feels Anna staring angrily at her. 

Fate groans. “Don’t look at Aunt Laurie, she won’t talk to me about any of this anymore because you have scared her so bad. She literally runs from me in the halls.” 

“Go to your room, and we will talk about this later, OK?” George says. 

“You can’t control me!” Fate says. “I’m not going to just sit around and be a good little girl for seventy years!” 

“What do you want?” George says. “What do you want from this?” 

“I want to go outside.” She crosses her arms. 

“The answer is no,” George says. “That’s the end of it.” 

She screams and storms off to her room. George turns back to the crew. “I’m sure you all remember being that age,” he says. He looks at his clasped hands. “A story would make me feel better. Everyone OK to dive back into the story?” 

“I should go talk to her,” Tina says, standing. 

“Go ahead, Honey,” Anna says, patting his leg. 

That night, there is a soft knock on Laurie and Henry’s door. Laurie answers it, knowing who might be there. “Hi Fate,” she says. 

“Aunt Laurie, can I talk to you?” she says. 

Laurie looks back at Henry, who nods, and then sighs. “OK, let’s walk.” 

They walk under the light of the two moons. Laurie’s heart beats faster in fear, and maybe a little excitement, that she will see McGregor. Fate watches her carefully. 

“He’s been gone for a long time, hasn’t he?” 

Laurie goes to pretend to not know what she’s talking about, but then laughs, “Yeah.” 

“I can remember you back then, even though I was little. I always wanted to do what you did.” 

Laurie is uncomfortable. “I almost killed people, Fate. I hurt my husband.” 

“Oh, whatever. McGregor hurt Uncle Henry, not you. The only thing my dad cares about is being in control of everyone. If that meant that we should study the reapers, that’s what he would do.” 

Laurie doesn’t speak. 

“What did you see out there?” Fate says. 

Laurie isn’t sure she should answer. “Just... people. I think.” 

“Come on. I know you remember more than that.” 

“Ok,” Laurie says. “I thought it was my mother. But that is impossible. Maybe it was me. Or maybe it was just a dream.” She shrugs. “I don’t know.” 

Fate takes it in. “I wish we could go out there and find out. It’s so boring here. Like, what are we even doing? Waiting? That’s dumb. If it were up to me, I wouldn’t be a person who waits. I would do things.” 

Laurie can’t help but feel a little inspired. They are overlooking Walden Pond now. 

“What are you doing, Aunt Laurie?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean, what are you and Uncle Soren and Uncle Henry working on all day?”

Laurie doesn’t answer. 

“Can I help?” Fate says. 

“No,” Laurie says quickly. “No. It’s just something I was working on back on Earth that I need to... finish. A passion project.” 

“That’s not super vague,” Fate says. 

“I need to go to bed now,” Laurie says. “Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?” 

“Oh,” Fate says, becoming nervous. “No, I just wanted to ask about my dad. Has he always been like that?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Like, he’s always putting on a show. You know?” 

Laurie winces a little, and thinks back to when she first met George. When she realizes she hasn’t spoken in a while, she says, “You should ask your mother.” 

Fate rolls her eyes. “Yeah, OK...” 

“They love you very much,” Laurie says. 

“I know...” she says. 

And just like that, faster than the last one, another decade slips by. Laurie feels no closer to coming up with the cure. 

Jon grows from a little boy to a man before Laurie’s eyes. He’s so much like his father, but he looks more like Laurie. He has her cool, blue eyes. 

George knocks on the lab door where Soren, Henry, and Laurie are in their usual spots. “Can I ask for an update?” he says. 

“No closer,” Laurie says. She really not even sure what to do anymore. They are in here, but not really working aside from occasionally pitching an idea. 

George sighs. “Fate is getting to that age...” he says. “She's going to start looking older than us, and she’s going to start asking questions.” 

“What a unique situation,” Soren says. 

George glances at Soren. “What can I do?” 

“I’m trying, George, but I just don’t know enough. I’m guessing, but it could take a lifetime...” 

“A lifetime,” he repeats. He looks in Laurie’s eyes. “OK. Then it is time to tell them.” 

She nods. “You’re right, George. It’s time to tell our kids the truth.” 

#the truth #lies #life and death #life or death #kids #waking up #children #existential crisis #writing #writer's block #Stream of conscious writing #keepwriting #writeblr #story #short story #storytelling #start over #no more shame #shortstory #flash fiction #microfiction #flashfiction #fiction #short fiction #science fiction #conscious

[megairishrose]

Recruited chapter 40: Charity Event

Should Amelia have been surprised she was chosen for the charity event? Yes, given her unfortunate ties to the mob and her distaste to be an upper class lady. Had Blue been scoping her out since her night with Dom, how she had danced her way to getting his phone and all the information? Of course, that night she had a partner…

If Killian Jones was going to be her date, she was done with Bow and Arrow. But she had a feeling he wasn't going to be. Blue had a habit of breaking up family members and couples during trainings. Amelia had never had a workshop with Graham.

Nova brought over a dress in a large box a few days before the event. Amelia suddenly felt very fancy. The dress was beautiful, deep purple with small rhinestones. It went down to her ankles, she did wish it was shorter, but she wasn't calling the shots with this mission.

Blue was completely in control, she always seemed to be. Amelia was not a fan of taking orders. But Blue did have good taste, Amelia had to give her that much. She twisted in front of the mirror a few times, just to see the whole picture.

Amelia walked into the living room. "So, how do I look?" She asked Graham. He was planning on spending a quiet evening alone, with his video games.

"Wow, you look amazing. I wonder who you are getting paired with." He stood up and took her hand, twirled her around.

Right, Amelia had no idea which poor soul was going to be partnered with her. "I hope it's not Jones, he annoys me."

"Doubtful, I think the office is pairing us with people we don't have history with." Graham told her.

"Watch its Cassidy. I swear, Blue is trying to hook us up. You saw how she paired us up and I fell into his arms…

"That was a trust fall exercise. And it seemed to have worked."

"Just watch, Bow and Arrow more than a spy organization, they are also a matchmaking company." Amelia huffed.

Graham had to laugh. "They are not interested in your romantic life. Now turn around, let me put this necklace on you…" He held diamond necklace.

"Graham, where did you get that? Did you steal it?" Amelia sounded horrified. They were out of that line of work.

"No, Blue sent it over with the dress and the shoes. She really wants you to look the part." Graham closed the clasp and turned her around. Amelia really did look the part: beautiful, rich and proper. But he knew better, she was capable and dangerous.

"Thanks, what would I do without you?"

He paused to think. "Go off the deep end and make stupid choices." Graham answered honestly.

Amelia looked at him annoyed. "That was a rhetorical question; you weren't supposed to answer it."

Graham opened his mouth to say something but a knock at the door stopped him. He went to open it and Amelia held her breath. Please be David, or even Jefferson.

On the other side of the door stood Neal Cassidy.

"Hey," He greeted Graham then saw Amelia. "Wow, you look amazing… You ready to do this?"

Amelia nodded. While Neal did clean up well in his tux, it didn't stop her from sending Graham an 'I told you' look.

Her brother just rolled his eyes. "Get out of here, the two of you. Go to your mission, party, whatever Blue is calling this. Amelia, don't do anything stupid."

"Since when have I done anything stupid?" Amelia asked halfway out the door.

"As often as you breathe. You two got your mics hidden?" Amelia pointed to her ear, her hair would cover the tiny device. Neal's was camouflaged thanks to Sidney. "Cassidy, have her back." Graham told Neal after he gave Amelia a kiss on the cheek. He watched them walk down the stairs.

Yes, he had told Amelia he was going to play video games all night, but that was a lie. Ruby had informed him that she had hacked into Bow and Arrow's command room. Now any of the members could remotely access it from anywhere. And Bow and Arrow had hacked into the security cameras at the charity event. He was going to watch Amelia's every move.

What could he say? Graham Hunter was an overprotected older brother.

It was held at a large house or small mansion, however one wanted to look at it. Amelia had to force herself not to stare. She was shockingly grateful for Neal's grip on her hand. Why did fancy things turn her into a little girl longing to be a princess?

"You got your story straight?" Neal asked. They had gone over the notes cards in the car. He was Flynn Wilson, brain surgeon at Hollywood Presbyterian Medical Center in Los Angeles. She was Rebecca Wilson, his wife, mother of his two children and president of the PTA at their children's school.

"Wish I had a job." That was the least of her concerns about their cover stories.

"You do have a job, it's the most important one, taking care of our children." Neal said, handing their invite to the woman behind the desk.

"We don't have children." She whispered back, looking around. There was security everywhere, both in uniform and not. Amelia quickly counted at least twenty. And there were security cameras pointed in every direction. Cora Mills certainly did not take chances. That or she had something to hide.

"Speaking of kids, Henry has a field trip to the Bronx Zoo and they need chaperones." Came a voice in Amelia's ear.

Thankfully she and Neal were in the back corner of the coat closet. "Who is the hell is in my ear?"

"It's Emma, sorry for scaring you. I have names of everyone at the event. You can start up a conversation with anyone."

"Thanks Emma. And yes, I'll go with the class to the zoo." Neal answered.

"Thank you so much. Now Neal put on your glasses so I can see what you are seeing." Emma told him. He pulled a pair of glasses from his jacket pocket and pushed them onto his face. "Amelia, you look so pretty. Okay, go mingle and let the mission begin."

They exited the coat closet and entered the giant ballroom. Women in fancy dresses, men in sharp suits. Was there a fairy tale convention in town and they didn't get the memo?

"Wow, the head of every major hospital in the country is here. Cora must really have connections. Or talks very highly of her work." Emma said quietly.

"Who do you want to start talking to first?" Neal asked Amelia.

She looked around the room, there were a lot of stuffy old doctors who looked like they still used leeches. Amelia had to grin. She liked these kinds of missions, out among the people, lying a little bit to get what she needed. Though she would rather do them alone, she found she didn't mind Neal. "That one over there, the conversation he is having is boring him half to death."

Amelia and Neal spent the first hour talking to random doctors. Emma kept whispering names and hospitals into their ears. Fake laughs, fake smiles, fake stories, and the doctors believed every word of it.

Finally, about two hours after they arrived, Cora Mills stowed up. She stood tall on the top step, surveying her guests. Like a queen overlooking her domain. "So sorry to keep you all waiting, there was a breakthrough in the lab. And thanks to your generous contributions, there will be more breakthroughs in the name of science. As you all know, this case is very close to my heart. I lost my father and mother to cancer and now for the past ten years, I have made it my life's mission to rid the world of every form of this terrible disease. Thank you all, I lift my glass to you…" She held a glass and waited as servers brought everyone in the room their own glass. They all raised it to Cora.

"Wait, what if everyone in this room is her newest batch of test subjects?" Neal grabbed Amelia's wrist.

Amelia paused and looked around the room. Poison worked fast and so far no one had fallen over. But they weren't going to take chances, they emptied their glasses into the nearest flower pot.

"I want to thank each of your personally, but being there are so many of you, I only hope I can do it. So please, eat drink, and enjoy yourselves and know that you are changing the world."

Face to face, that was good for Amelia and Neal. They needed answers about Cora and who better to ask but Cora herself.

"No, bad idea. No face to face contact with Cora. Find someone who she might be close to." Emma told them.

The music started up and the doctors felt the need to fill the dance floor. An older man came up to Amelia. "May I have this dance?"

Her eye brow shot up and she opened her mouth to refuse.

"Sorry, sir I already asked her for the first dance." Neal saved her and then held out his hand to her. "Shall we?"

Amelia nodded and allowed Neal to lead her to the dance floor. It was a completely different feeling than the last time she was in this kind of situation.

"Do you even want to dance with that guy?" Neal asked after he spun her and brought her back.

"Not a chance. So we have to avoid Cora all night and find someone else to talk to. That can't be that hard." Amelia said, throwing her arms over Neal's shoulders.

"What are you doing?"

"Playing the part. Brilliant doctor, beautiful wife, we have to fool everyone here. You going to play along?" A smile played on her lips. Yes, that was a challenge.

Neal paused, they were on the clock, they were partners. Could this be good; they were just pretending after all. He grinned back and dipped her. He looked down at her then his eyes lifted and saw someone he recognized.

He pulled Amelia back up. "Do you want something to drink?" He asked.

That was a sudden change in mood, it left Amelia confused. "Sure, white wine, I don't have a preference on what kind."

Neal nodded and began walking to the bar. But when he knew he was no longer in Amelia's sight, he left the room.

That was odd, something was off with Neal. Yes, because Amelia could now read him after the few hours they spent together. And she was going to need something stronger than wine.

She saw a second less crowded bar and walked over. Sitting on one of the stools was the same woman who had taken their invites. She staring at the drink in her hand.

"That's not going to drink itself you know." Amelia greeted the woman.

"I'm trying to remember how many of these I have had tonight. And wondering how many more before they cut me off." The woman mused.

"Who dragged you here?" Amelia looked around the room, was she the wife of some doctor?

"My job requires it. I used to be better, I used to be Cora's personal assistant. Then she just fired me…" Now the woman knocked back the drink in her hand.

Amelia couldn't help but be impressed. "What, did you get her coffee order wrong one morning?" Cora's former personal assistant, perfect.

"No, now I get coffee. I used to handle her meetings and phone calls, basically her entire life. Then I misplace one file, one file I tell you, and it's like she wants to rip my heart out."

"That's an overreaction on her part. People make mistakes." Amelia had never been this supportive before.

"What about you? Why are you here?" Where are my manners? I'm Zelena Baum." The woman held out her hand.

"Rebecca Wilson, my husband is a doctor. Honestly, this is the only time I get out. We have four kids at home." Amelia went with their cover story.

"Four munchkins, how have you not torn your hair out yet?" Zelena asked.

"I love them and wouldn't change anything about them." Amelia said.

"Well, I should stop drinking, who knows, I might spill company secrets." Zelena stood up, she only faltered slightly.

"Can't have that." Amelia told her and watched her walk away. "Emma, did you get all that?"

"I did, is Neal with you? He turned off his mic and took his glasses off." Emma sounded annoyed and worried.

"No, he went to get me a drink. I'll find him." Amelia said and walked across the room. In the doorway, she scanned the whole room, Neal was nowhere to be found. So she opened the heavy door and entered the hallway.

"Why are you here?" Neal was in a small room and as soon as the door opened, he asked his question. He knew his father had followed him.

Gold closed the door behind him. "Cora is an old friend; I might have donated some money to her cause."

"You mean the woman we are trying to take down because she is making zombies?"

"She is not making zombies, and if she were, she is ten to fifteen years away from reanimation." Gold explained.

"Ten to fifteen, that's comforting. If you are here, why are Amelia and I here? You clearly have an in to talk to Cora while Blue doesn't want us to make contact with her."

"Because Cora will not tell me everything."

"Can't imagine anyone being open and honest with you. You are barely open and honest with yourself." Neal felt the need to sit down. "Are you with her or us? Or are you playing the double agent?" Gold didn't answer right away. "Dad, you need to tell me, are you going to betray me, again?"

"No, I am with Bow and Arrow, I just have to keep up appearances with Cora. Make sure she does not suspect Blue and the missions we are doing on her. I am the distraction."

"Good, keep it that way. Now I have to get back to work. Hopefully Amelia found something good." Neal stood up and headed to the door.

Gold wanted to ask about Henry, his grandson. But maybe now wasn't the best time. He watched Neal leave the room.

Amelia turned down a hall and almost ran into Neal. "Where were you?"

"Turns out my father is a friend of Cora and the distraction. Did you find anything useful?" Neal asked.

"I hung out with Zelena Baum, Cora's former personal assistant. I think we, or someone can get more information out of her. Wait, what? Your father…?"

"Gold." She was the first person he told that to.

"Gold is your father?" Amelia wasn't sure she was hearing him right. But she pushed the rest of her questions out of her head for the time being. "He is here? Why are we here then?"

"I had the same question…"

"Guys," Emma's voice stopped Neal from talking more. "There's chatter that your invites were fake. Three security guards coming your way. I suggest hiding then running for it. There's a car outside. And Neal, if you ever go dark during a mission again, I'll make sure you stay that way. And when you get off later, we need to talk."

"Sorry Emma." Neal turned to Amelia. "Time for the real mission part." He grabbed her hand and ran down the hallway.

They tried four doors before the fifth one opened. They threw themselves inside and waited.

"What if they come in here?" Neal asked.

Amelia heard footsteps coming closer and instantly she knew what to do. "Kiss me."

"What?" He was completely baffled by her request.

"Now." Amelia grabbed the front of his jacket and pulled him close. It certainly wasn't soft but Neal made it that way when he finally responded.

The door opened and Amelia raked her fingers through his hair and threw a leg around his waist.

"Sorry." Came a voice from the door and then it was shut.

Amelia took a step back and avoided Neal's eyes. "Public displays of affection make people uncomfortable." She informed him.

His eyes were wide and he gently touched his lips. Well, that was unexpected. Not unwelcomed, just unexpected.

She went to the door and slightly opened it. She saw two security guards go into the room across the hall. Amelia then looked to her left and saw a large stained glass window.

She turned back to Neal. "Do you trust me?" He nodded, still unable to really form words. "Then follow my lead." She quietly walked out of the room and grabbed a chair. She wedged it under the doorknob, trapping the guards inside.

Neal was next to her and she tilted her head to the window. He understood instantly. "Go big or go home." He sighed and took her hand.

They went running to the window and it broke on impact. Glass surrounded them on the way down and they landed on a tent below.

Across the field, a car flashed its lights at them. That had to be their ride out of here. Neal slid off the tent and helped Amelia before shots were being fired at them.

"Emma, a little help would be nice!" Neal yelled.

"On it." And an alarm began to sound from the building. The fire alarm had been activated and now Amelia and Neal were not the only people outside. It was pure madness.

They made it to the car and fell into the back seat.

"So I'm guessing you two don't like staying under the radar?" August asked from the front seat.

"Just drive." Amelia said.

"Thank God you knew the tent was there, that was like a fifteen-foot drop, could have broken a bone…" Neal began to say then stopped. "You didn't know, did you?"

"Nope, that was luck. August, we need to get back to headquarter, I have a person of interest."

#once upon a time #fanfic

[ultranorthsouth-blog]

A dark story

ZAETA

My earliest memory is examining my mother’s body in the bath tub. Even then I knew her vagina looked shredded. I would ask her why it looked that way. She said from giving birth to you! She said it in a joyful way, but I wondered what else I had done to her, or would do... One day, I remember joyfully pouncing on her nipple and sucking. She pushed me off with a snort and a forearm meant for a grown woman in the way at an Elvis concert. I was hurt and shocked. My mother, in an instant showed a version of herself I did not normally see. Where was the sweet kind woman who made me feel special? Don’t Rachel, were her words. I believe I knew from then on this woman lived inside my mother, and I thought she was the true self. I’ve tried to find her many times, bringing my mother to tears, or reducing her to a screaming fool. I guess that is our job as children, but I don’t know why I do it. I just want her to be genuine I guess.

My next memory is telling my dad as he threw me over his shoulder angrily and gave me the I’ll give you something to cry about speech, I like Mom better than you! I know these words hurt him. But I didn’t know they would.

Please, don’t stop reading! Enough of my childhood drama. Oh wait, not yet, there’s more, but maybe these things matter, maybe they don’t, but I remember them, so that’s something. I’m not sure right now what all I am going to tell you about, but I suppose I will just let it flow and see what happens.

I remember my dad selling our old white truck Henry, a Ford, and I remember getting a moment alone with him before he was sold. I was a sentimental thing. I’ve since cauterized that nerve, but as a child, I wept onto his seat covers. I found out later Dad sold him because of me, because he didn’t think I could ride safely in him. I think I sensed Henry’s sadness. He loved me you see, he loved giving rides to this joyful little girl who would squeal and smile her dimpled smile at her Daddy. The two of them were his favorite passengers. But enough about Henry.

8.23.17

Joyfully choose to practice remembering that you are already free by forgetting everything.

I think it’s time I share my experience at Tom Petty. I had been a highly religious child. With my parents I had been an altar server at our Catholic Church for 7 years, but I switched to a non denominational Christian church after a moving experience at a summer camp where God was based on love and not fear of sin. But all that had been cast aside with my parent’s divorce, the youth group leader of the church I’d been attending made it clear I needed to get my parents back together. I remember the room spinning, and all the love and progress I had made being sucked into a little black hole that I put in my pocket and exited the room with. I carried that black hole for a very long time.

Now I had gone with a group of friends I did drugs with to Tom Petty, at the time we were smoking a lot of pot, doing whip its, pain pills, whatever pills, liquid oxycontin, and lots of MDMA, oh and of course drinking. I don’t remember if I was a junior or a senior, but it was a very fun and special experience. My friend and sex buddy and I had walked on chairs to the front of the stage toward the end of the show, and while the nice older folks sitting or standing in that front section were slightly perturbed by us, and security tried to pull us down, Tom Petty himself waved them off and allowed us to stay standing, watching his final song, Freefallin’. I remember crying, and feeling a feeling that told me, this would be the last time I had fun, especially while using drugs, in a very, very long time.

Fast forward to living in San Diego, I had skipped out on my scholarship to the University of Washington, I had lived briefly in Stockton, returned home, then forged my way to San Diego. My mom had paid my way for me to spin out of control on meth while attending the Fashion Institute of Design and Merchandising, and a whole book could be written on that episode, but I had gotten myself clean, quit school, and started working. I kept drinking and smoking pot, but in my and many peoples eyes, I was reformed. That was when I had met Jimmy. He as well could be his own chapter. Yet the time I seek to tell you about is a time when I had quit a sales job that I loved, for love. And was doing a more maternal job, working at a Pharmacy. Red flag. What a free for all that turned out to be. I made off with an incredible amount of pain pills, ADD medications, Marinol, you name it, without being caught. But I quit when I knew the time was coming that I would. Some things just don’t last forever. It was then that I realized I wasn’t in love with Jimmy. I was in love with a feeling, and that feeling had died. Both in its real form in the youth group, then even in its synthetic form at Tom Petty. I had no dopamine left.

The pain of that time was so great, that just now I had to get up from the keys and go do a couple of things. Eat a string cheese, load some boxes into my car, remember that that is not Rachel any longer. But it is. That pain is always Rachel. That pain is Rachel without God, without medication, without family, and without friends. As I watched Jimmy pack his things and leave our house, I knew the heartbreak was not just for him but for myself as well, for I still had not yet entered hell. This was just the opening of the door. The flames blasted me with the crippling blows of addiction. When pills were not enough, or available, I turned to heroin. I loved it. Finally, I thought, I’ve reached the place I always knew I would be. I started the meth again. Although this time, I didn’t feel like I had before. It was like a part of my brain had been damaged, or maybe it was my heart. At any rate, I’m amazed I kept my job. I would spend my days with anyone who had anything. Pretty soon, I was with the lowest of the the low. A woman named Sunshine had taken to me. She had done 30 years in prison and was dying of blood poisoning, yet she would not stop. I knew the love she had for me was real. I WAS her, and she was me. The fear and paranoia grew and grew, and one awful manifestation after another came for me. It was one monster, with many heads, and I was getting so tired of fighting. Soon one day, I had reached my breaking point. I was convinced the cops were after me, and I swallowed all of the drugs I had just bought. It should've killed me. Sometimes I think it did. I called my mom and told her something was not right, something was just not right and that I needed to go to treatment. I called my bosses so many times, they turned off their phones. I know now I experienced a psychotic break. But I also know, from a Jungian psychologist, that I entered another realm. The realm of the subconscious. And I lived there, in and out of 3 or 4 jails, until my parents could get me into a treatment center. I was terrified, violent, and most of all, I could see, hear, and feel things that others could not. The terror is still so great, I feel that what I am supposed to tell you about is that I saw Jesus while I was in jail. He appeared to me with so much beautiful light radiating around him, wearing soft blood red robes with some other religious finery that I don’t know the names of, with his head turned away from me. I could not look at his face, but I threw myself at his feet. When he spoke, it was my father’s voice. He encouraged me, and warned me. Of what, I do not know. Later, I also saw the OM symbol. But I was afraid it was the devil trying to tease me away from the comfort of my father and Jesus. I saw freeways and cars that were not there, military men with semiautomatic weapons, I was restrained, sedated had bruises, could hardly walk. I was possessed. I knew my mother was afraid. My father took me the last leg of the journey, an airplane ride. The last time, the police had taken me to the hospital instead of jail, and I was given haldol. It had taken a very high dose to finally get through to me, but I remember feeling better, and quipping to Dad, maybe this has been all in my head. I remember the breath he took when I said that. It was like he was breathing in the truth of my statement for me. Although the treatment center was fancy, the doctor did not trust that I was mentally well. I wanted nothing more than to be sober, and I was desperate to get off of all the medications. I was sick with tardive dyskinesia for a time, and once that was relieved with Cogentin, I felt I could fly. I felt amazing. I had not felt that good, in fact, it could have been the best I’ve ever felt. But all things end. I had one more episode where I entered the lower realm. I was terrified I would be diagnosed crazy, and so I told no one.

I can’t tell you exactly how scary it is to write these words. You see, that time everyone easily made the connection to the drugs and the psychosis, but I’ve visited that realm again. And for brief moments, again, and again. When there is love, this becomes a commune with God, a beautiful golden strand, the Tao, a river, a true mystical experience. But sometimes, sometimes, it is doubt, it is the brink of insanity, it is a cliff and the abyss. So, I try my best to stay grounded, to be here, right now. And so, I think that is enough for today. The dust I have stirred is not of the golden sparkling sort, but of the sooty, staining, choking sort. So before I can not breathe, I must shake it off, and go clean.

8.24.17

Later in life… I met someone trapped where I had been. His name was Ryan. It all seems like a dream now, but I had known him in high school, and he had been one of the older boys I always wanted attention from, popular, built, and charming. This time I met him in a computer lab. He teased me, and said that I had “the Knowing” I soon realized he was in a world no one else was in. I think that is the truest sadness of the lower realm or world as Jung calls it, I guess, the furthered disconnection from everyone. You are not just separated, you no longer even share the collective dream that everyone else does. Although, there were times that Ryan was overjoyed by his dream world. He said if he were to take medication, it would take him away from his alien friends. He took me to meet them, high in the mountains, closest to the stars. I realized here that Ryan was in a truly connected state, he was at peace. At that time, I just played along, not wanting to upset him, but I didn’t see anything. He really thought because I had the knowing, that maybe I would see them too. Instead, I slept with him several times, even though I knew his guilt surrounding sex and his Catholic upbringing could send him into a tail spin. I just didn’t think to care about others at that time. I knew he drank to help himself with his affliction, and I pitied him, but another part of me was curious. Curious about the world he was in, for I had been there too. A friend of mine assured me that he had just taken too many hits to the head, as he had been a class A boxer, or something like that. No wonder I had swooned over him. Anyway, he had a very close friend die, and something broke in him. I know the medical world, the western world would call it schizophrenia, but I wish him well frequently when I think of him, for he would rather be in his subconscious, where he can chase clues, and find facts, and see truths that the regular world would never allow. I just pray that he stay safe when his mind gets particularly dark, or when people pick on him, or when he’s afraid he might hurt someone. May he find peace on his journey.

Last night I attended a group, a group of people “seeking enlightenment” . And someone who knows someone that does shamanic journeying. This peaked my interest, maybe we will see where that leads, she wants the blessing of my psychologist, and what an interesting group that would be, Jung and shamanic journeying. This is more of a journal entry, but it is just evidence of how the flower blooms. Scott, you are also reading this, I hope you’re not bored, or fearful for my sanity. All is and always has been well.

I need you to know, that even after my experience in San Diego, and the events surrounding it, I still did not manage to stay clean. Not even my father knows this. I left the heavenly facility feeling invigorated and encouraged by all, but I did not attend meetings. It had been a SMART recovery facility, and I thought AA and all it’s spirituality was for the weak. What a judgement that was. But I just was not yet ready. I returned to heroin. This time my mother and friends and everyone at the massage school I was attending found out. I chose to battle the demon alone. I felt I had been given the opportunity to heal in treatment, and as I had chosen to throw it away, I needed to cleanse myself this time. And I did so. It was not easy, but using a suboxone I had bought on the street, I weaned myself. I still remember the withdrawals. Ugly, ugly times. This time I chose to enter into AA. Or rather NA. AA had decided I was too toxic when I was nodding out at meetings. Hmm. Shocking. But they were a conservative tightknit group of older folks that really wanted recovery. I managed to stay clean for about nine months. But eventually I began to smoke pot again. I just was not a balanced person. I know now, it was probably my Bipolar that could have been medicated in order to help my recovery. I eventually fell back into my alcoholism which lead me all over the country. I still had that black hole, but now, instead of it being in my pocket, it had joined with the void in my chest, and was threatening to consume me entirely. While on my journey, I wound up in Utah. I was working at a remote lodge run by a Mormon family, and this was the first time since youth group that I felt a love I could really understand. God showed himself to me through that family. They were strict in their beliefs, and part of me wanted to label them as crazed, but the love I saw in that family was genuine. They invited me to family meals, with children helping each other make their plates. Those children softened my heart. The mother took me into the desert and told me her story. She also told me I needed to find a family, or more accurately a husband before I lost my looks. I was overcome with a desire to follow in her footsteps. Her connection to source was so powerful. I wished I could believe like she did. In fact, for a few days, I did. The word beautiful and inspiring are so small compared to the vibration that was born that night. I believe it carried me through everything I would later experience.

After Utah, I moved to Colorado, this time with her words ringing in my ears. Maybe it was time to settle down. The alcohol and pot made it tough to do. I bounced from man to man, as I’ve frequently done. Finally, I landed on Derek. He and I were so much alike. Sports nuts that lost our way with drugs and alcohol. Companions in the amount of whisky we liked to put away, equal tempers, and explosive fights. Derek became the father of my son Silas. I knew I could not take care of Derek and a baby, and part of me had known all along that I would not stay with Derek. He brought out the most violent side of me. I took my womb and unborn child and ran home to my mother in Washington. I decided to attend a clinic that did drug testing during pregnancy to insure I did not hurt my baby. Even with the assurance of my family, I doubted I could be all my child would need. I hung a crystal and prayed every day, 50 or so times a day it seemed like, that I would become long term oriented, responsible, and financially stable enough to give my child the life I knew he would deserve. People told me I would meet a man that would want a family, but for the first in my life, I did not want a man. I was sure I could not pick someone that would be healthy for me and my child, and for the first in my life, I put someone else first. Of course, at that moment I met Max. I had decided to work for a branch of the company I had been working for in Denver, in Seattle. I was renting a room, and commuting home to be with Mom in Sequim, where I also saw my doctor. Max was an engineer for my company. Even before I knew Max was from Tupelo, I had thought I might name Silas Memphis, or Jackson. It seems I always knew where we were headed. Max was everything I could not be. Calm, educated, financially sound, and most of all, he wanted a family. On our first date, I remember telling Max that Silas would be a mixed baby. And even though he would never admit it, I saw the flash of color come to Max’s face. Still, he lovingly told me that that would never deter him from loving a son of mine as his own if that was to be our path. I knew I was crazy for dating Max. I wondered if I was money grubbing, I wondered how evil I really was. But something about his self assured quiet dignity told me that things were going to be ok. What a brave man Max is and was, for things were not immediately ok.

While pregnant we visited Tupelo. We decided we would move after I had had Silas. Max picked Alexander as his middle name. Max’s family owned a factory in Tupelo, and we would be bigger fish in a smaller pond he told me. I knew I wanted to raise my family in a country setting, and as Max wanted to take care of us, I wanted to allow him to do it where he thought he wanted to be. By this time, I had learned Max smoked pot. He was not like me however, he was not an addict. He simply enjoyed the then legal and medicinal benefits in the safety of his Washington home. He also drank, but never to excess like I had. Merriment at its best. I thought being in the company of someone like this might make my addictions abate, and I could be a normal mother enjoying wine, and snuggling babies. How wrong was I. As soon as Silas was born, I entered into a state of panic. We were moving, Mom was overbearing in my mind as I was a clueless defenseless new mother, protecting her young like a crazed bear. I was unsure if I had chosen right with Max. He had become worried, preoccupied with the move. Doubting himself for leaving his engineering job in Washington. I found solace, or tried to in substances once more. I hurt so bad. I now know I suffered terrible post partum, combined with the stress of trying to please a man my son’s life depended on. I realize now what a little faith could have done for me at that time. But I had none. Being a mother did not feel how I thought it should feel. I did not like breastfeeding. We decided to bottle feed. Max was kind and helpful. I hated myself for not having read books. It was awful, just awful. I wanted to smoke pot every second of being awake, nothing could help me. Oh God, how did I survive it? But time moved on, and we got to Mississippi. Things didn’t get any better. At one point Max pointed out my substance abuse was a danger to the family. I got clean the same day and admitted I had a severe case of depression I was trying to hide. Let’s fast forward and say, Max and I’s marriage hardly survived my depression, but we wanted another baby. Max and I are only children, so we knew we wanted a friend for Silas, who had quickly become bonded to Max. I was trying out different medications for my depression when I became pregnant. Again, I don’t know how I survived the pregnancy, there were complications. I had contractions for months, I was taking a low dose of prozac that helped me limp along. I had tried to go without, but I could not. The moment Aris was born, something in me changed. His smiling face was made just for me. It was everything a birth was supposed to be. I think maybe it was the prozac. I was in love with the brothers I had created. I loved being a mother, and also the hospital had given me a healthy prescription of percocet to get me started with the transition at home. When it ran out, I turned to marijuana. Again, I could not use like a new mother should, I needed it all the time. I was at home, alone with two little babies, trying to drink only occasionally, for I knew how I could be with alcohol, trying to keep the house perfect, and do it all. My doctor upped my prozac at my request, because I knew had experienced postpartum with Silas, and I knew easing off the percocet would not be easy. What happened next was another dark night of the soul. I knew I was starting to lose my grip on reality again. The fabric surrounding me started to unravel, and I could see through to the very depths of my soul. Doctors say it was the lack of sleep. Maybe the paranoia was exacerbated by the marijuana and the coffee was just too much with the prozac. Was it a mania? It was a psychotic break. Max thought I was on meth, for I had told him that I had a past with it, and we had a neighbor for a  time that was a meth head. The phenomenal part was that I knew the cops were coming, I knew they would try to find our marijuana, and that is exactly what I manifested. I think I knew I was a danger to my children. Alcohol had been abusive to Silas, I had felt, and I was not being the mother I wanted to be. I had not harmed my children, but I was not healthy either. The voices in my head wanted me to try to harm my child, to make the pain stop. I fought it, and begged Max to call 911. I thought he or I had given Silas some of my antipsychotic medication that Max had begged me to take. The doctors were just one step behind my mind at that time, and I was so close to being well, but it took a great heave from my higher self to get me where I needed to be. I saw two angels during my psychotic break. They were just observers. They were there to carry me, either back to my family, or to a permanent place below, where I would remain alone in my madness. I believe I had a choice to make that night. And when I asked Max to call 911, I chose to get myself help, and save my children from any harm that might befall them. The paramedics ushered in the police, who took me to jail. I was in psychosis this entire time, and I remember thinking I really had to play the part of insane, or I might not get the right kind of help. I think that was the only sane thought I had. I heard voices, I saw things, I was intrigued, and at times terrified. I was brave, I gleefully told the police we had the marijuana, a quarter pound shipped down from a friend in Washington. My case escalated to a Federal level. My doctor made a phone call and got me into the behavioral health facility. I remember the driver had the face of friend, and I knew I would be alright. Still, I was terrified that first night, and was later told I stripped down naked and ran through the halls in shear terror. A religious woman said she believed I was possessed. I was put in a containment room, and spent an immeasurable amount of time in there. I remember Max visiting me. He was kind, but I could not trust him. I thought he was there to wish me goodbye. I tried to eat my nicotine patch in order to kill myself. I tried to confess to a number of sins, some real, some imagined. DHS was called in. They decided I was a rambling fool. I slowly came out of it with the help of a lot of risperdal, and depakote. I tried to escape, I hit a guard. I don’t know what Max must have felt during this time, but when I came home I noticed a new scrape on his car and knew he must have suffered terribly. I was not well completely when I was released. The children were in the custody of my mother. Max’s parents were watching Aris, and Mom was watching Silas. The angels of light and darkness stayed with me in the behavioral health facility, and I believe I narrowly escaped into the light. My conscience you see, those angels, they, I would not let myself continue to be a mother if I did not make some changes. I had a vision of Silas out in the country, and soon after I was released Max and I bought some land on which to build. I was charged with Endangering a Minor, an adjudicated felony, and opted to plead guilty and take drug court instead of going on trial, which would likely end me with a 1.5 to 5 year prison sentence. I, for the first time since the desert in Utah, felt the presence of God when I chose to take drug court. This was how I was to save my life. I knew my spirituality was the answer, but I only really felt it while I was also experiencing psychosis, so for a long time, even to this day, I sometimes doubt my sanity when I see things a certain way. Still, those realms are very real. The reason I am writing all of this, I thought was to tell you this next bit, but it has been cathartic, but also fear inspiring to write all of these experiences down. Maybe if anyone reads this, it can serve a purpose. It has helped me remember the evil that lurks in my substance abuse.

#substanceabuse schitzophrenia darkness light duality angels knowing lifepath spirituality being nondoing