#oh how can i damage nicky and booker this time

[non-un-topo]

If I keep having nightmares I’m gonna have to start writing another horror thing, right? Like I can’t let these plots go to waste

#hi yeah i have nightmares almost every night. been like this since childhood. maybe i have a sleep disorder...? #last night's feature involved me going through boxes in a closet inside a house that wasn't mine #and a bunch of women sitting in the room and chatting. i was apparently opening some haunted shit but none of them warned me. #some girl approached my pile of closet things and picked up a bowling ball and started playing w it like she'd never seen one before #and she sort of threatened to bash my head in with it. ofc i got freaked out and angry and tried to send her away. #i started to realize that things were moving. like objects and lights in really subtle ways. then realized all the women were looking at me #and they were completely silent. i realized i'd disturbed some spirit and it was angry. i started crying etc #i think the women were witches?? and for some reason i was looking for my mom for years? #anyway yeah don't touch a dead girl's dolly. #it was one of those dreams that just felt like dread. like there was nothing i could do to escape the situation i was in. like predestined. #i've been to therapy ik all the reasons i still dream like this it's v obvious #i only woke up because things were getting really intense and my partner ran out of toilet paper so they were texting me hgfdghj #maybe i should stop rambling and just actually write another horror fic because i really miss it and there's a lack of scary shit on ao3. #oh how can i damage nicky and booker this time

[even-after-a-millennia]

hold me close then let me go

For @nilefreemanweek2021 and the prompt Family.  Nile doesn’t just see the immortals she hasn’t met when she dies.  She sees her dad too.  You can read it below or on my ao3 account here. Gen | Rated T | 1.4k

The knife felt hot as it sliced through Nile’s neck.  She choked, falling to the ground.

“No!  Medic!  Man down!” Dizzy shouted, rushing to Nile.

Nile could feel Dizzy’s fingers wrap around the wound in her neck as her blood spilled on the warm floor beneath her.

“No, Jesus!  Medic!” Dizzy screamed, her voice cracking.  “Stay with me!” 

She pulled Nile’s helmet off her, her head now resting on the woven rug.  “Oh my God! Jesus, no.  Stay with me.  Look at me.”

Nile tried, but her vision was getting hazy.  She reached out with her hand and tried to grab Dizzy’s arm, but her hands didn’t have any strength left in them.

“Nile.  Nile!  You’re okay, it’s okay.  Stay with me.  Just look at me.  Look at me.”

Her hand bobbed up and down in the air, helpless, until Dizzy’s hand covered hers.

She felt a tear run down her temple.  Could hear Dizzy was still talking, though she couldn’t make out the words.

Then the light came and everything else faded away.

She saw flashes of a train, a man drinking from a flask, two men holding each other closely, a woman with short hair and tired eyes, and bubbles rising from the sea.  Then the light came again.

And standing before her was her father.

“Dad?” she asked, her voice small.

“Nile,” he said, his voice awaking a thousand memories.  “You’ve grown.  I missed you.”

“Dad,” Nile said again, her voice cracking as she launched herself at him.

He caught her and let out a huff of air.

“You were definitely not this tall the last time you did this,” he said, holding her close.

“It’s been fifteen years,” Nile said, clutching at him.

He was in his civies, the ones he wore when he was on leave at home.  

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.  “It has been a blink for me.  I knew it was you, though.  You look like your mother did at your age.”

Nile sobbed.

“I died, Dad,” she cried.

His hand started to rub up and down her back.  “I know, love.  I’m sorry.”

“It was horrible,” she said, her voice breaking.

She suddenly felt less stable in his arms.

“Dad.  What’s happening?” she demanded, looking down.  

“I don’t kno-”

She bolted upright in a hospital bed, gasping.  She looked around, half-expecting to see her dad there, but she was alone.  Reaching up to touch her neck, she felt gauze and tape in the way.

She let out a sigh and closed her eyes.

It only got worse.  Dizzy didn’t want to be around her.  The other women turned on her.  Everyone looked at her like she was a freak.  And she was going to be shipped out to be tested more.

All of it was too much.  She could still feel her dad’s arms around her, even as she walked through the base to where she would be leaving from.  Pulling up Frank Ocean, she let his words wash over her, taking over her brain until there was nothing left but, “I will always love you… how I do.”

But then there was a woman, the woman that she had seen momentarily in her vision when she died, with the tired eyes.  Andromache the Scythian, apparently.  She disarmed Nile in one movement and everything went black.

Nile woke up in the back of a Humvee, going across the desert.  She looked around, took in that the woman was driving, and kicked the back door of the Humvee open, rolling across the sand.

She ran, then a searing pain went through her skull for a moment before the light swept her away.

“Dad,” she said, looking at him with all the fear and confusion that she was feeling.  “I don’t know what’s happening-”

And she gasped awake.

The woman was standing there, Andromache, and Nile realized, “You shot me.”

“I did.  I need you to get back into the car, please.”

Nile could feel panic sinking in.  “No, this isn’t real.  None of this is real.”

Not her coming back to life from being dead.  Not seeing her dad.

None of it.

Then came the bombshell.

“You can’t die.”

Nile fought that, both physically when she fought Andy in the plane, and mentally, until she saw with her own eyes her arm and leg healing.  It was a little easier when she met the others, to know that she wasn’t alone in this.  

“We dream each other.  They stop when we meet,” Joe said.

“Why?”

“I believe it is because we are meant to find each other,” Nicky said.  “It’s like destiny.”

“More like misery loves company,” Booker said and Joe grinned at him.

Nile looked at Andy.  Their eyes met and Andy motioned to Booker.

“What he said.”

“And… before you guys wake, do you… see people who passed before you did?” Nile asked.

Nicky cocked his head to the side.  

“Have you been experiencing that?” Joe asked.

Nile nodded.  “My dad has been waiting for me each time.”

Booker reached for his wine and chugged it.  “No,” was all he said.

Andy shook her head.

“We do not,” Nicky said, seeming to answer for Joe and himself.

“Alright.”

But it got harder again when they were attacked and Joe and Nicky were taken.  She saw the carnage that Andy was capable of, the damage that she had learned to do after millennia of fighting.

Nile didn’t want to be that person.  

She was almost to the train station, checking the gun Andy was going to use for bullets.

And there weren’t any.

“Shit,” she whispered, putting it all together.  “Andy.”

Admittedly, shooting herself literally in the foot might not have been the best way to prove she could regenerate.  But it worked.  She got to the building.  She got in the elevator.

Then came the waiting.

Dad, she thought, looking skywards, I could really use your strength right now.

“Hands!  Let me see your hands,” one of the guards said.

She did, the gun barely out from behind her back before two bullets ripped through her chest.

“Hi Dad,” she said to him.  She let the warmth and light of the afterlife cocoon her, let the sight of her dad strengthen her resolve.  “I think I’m doing something really stupid.”

She woke, then fired, hitting each of the guards in the head with a bullet.

Nile took more hits, but nothing lethal.  Some were willingly taken, to save Andy from getting shot instead.

Then it was just her and Andy at the broken window.

And Merrick.

“Hey, Nile,” Andy said, a small smirk on her face.  “Do you think he speaks Russian?”

Nile frowned, then realization dawned and she shot in Andy’s direction, took the bullet Merrick shot, and watched as Andy whirled with her ax until it sunk into Merrick’s neck.  Jumping up, Nile put herself between Andy and the gun Merrick was trying to point, taking one more shot to the chest as she heaved them both out the window.

“SHIIIIIIIIII-”

“We keep meeting like this,” her dad said dryly.  

She laughed, because there was nothing else to do.

“Yeah.  Turns out I can’t stay here with you,” she said.  “Not yet, anyway.  But I’m glad I get to visit.”

He smiled and opened his arms.  “Me too, Nile.”

She walked into him, feeling safe for the first time in a while.

Then she woke, and everything hurt.  Repairing nearly every bone and organ in her body hurt.

“Ow,” was all she could say to encompass it all.

As they drove away from the carnage they had created, she took deep breaths in and out.  She hadn’t wanted to be that person, but to save Andy and the others, she had become what she didn’t want.

You come from warriors, Andy had said.

Yeah, Nile thought, echoing what she had said then.  I do.

And she had a feeling that if she continued down this path, she would be seeing her dad quite a lot.  It was a bittersweet thought, one that was paired with mental and physical pain.  He had been lost to her for so long and now she didn’t have her mom or her brother either.  She had a glimpse of him, in between moments of death and life.  Would her mom and her brother join him someday, in that bright space?

That would have to be enough until her true end.

And in the meantime, she thought, looking around at the other bloodied immortals in the vehicle, this could be alright.

#nile freeman #nileweek2021 #death tw #temporary character death #andromache the scythian #andy #fanfic #my fic

[firefliesintheskyline]

A Poem In Flowers

PAIRING : Nicky x Joe

PROMPT : Flower Shop AU

(now on ao3 !)

“Oh-oh, he’s gonna pay for that!”

“Booker, we can’t just barge in, we don’t even know how—“

“He stole them from you! Isn’t it clear enough?”

Nicky frowned, listening to the loud voices coming from outside. It was usually a quiet neighborhood, especially at that time of the day.

“Let’s just go inside!"

He was startled when someone opened the door of his flower shop with more strength than needed.

“Booker, can you please calm down a little? You’re going to scare him.”

Nicky looked at the guy who had just spoken, feeling more intrigued than afraid. The fact that the newcomer was also incredibly handsome was definitely a plus.

“Mr. Di Genova, I believe?,” the other man said, in a pissed and totally unfriendly way. Nicky took an instant dislike to him.

“Yes, it’s me. Are you here for a bridal bouquet?"

Not-nice jerk was caught off guard by his question, while cute-dude just chuckled. Of course, Nicky couldn’t help but find it extremely endearing.

“No, we… Okay, let’s start this properly. Nile, my assistant, came here a couple of days ago to pick up a bouquet for my wife.” If Nicky didn’t like this 'Booker' guy before, things only got worse after the last sentence. He appreciated the fact that Very Handsome Man (well, wasn’t his crush escalating quickly) seemed to give his friend a very nasty look at that. “There was a little card attached to the bouquet, a card that contained a short poem.”

Nicky nodded briefly.

“Yes, that’s my customers' favorite part of the bouquet and the very reason why they keep buying here.”

He felt a wave of pride while saying those words. After all, It had been his idea when he had first opened the shop, and he wasn’t going to take lessons from some uneducated asshole just because the guy couldn’t stand poetry.

Extremely Attractive Man (yep, that was it, no going back) gave him a contemplative look, almost as if he was trying to make sense of… something.

“Well, isn’t that nice? Stealing someone else's art and then using it to make a profit?,” rude-dude retorted.

Nicky felt his blood run cold. He didn’t like the tone nor what was being implied, and he was starting to get extremely pissed.

“Look, I’m sorry for Sebastien here, he can be very nasty when he wants.” Nicky noticed that Unbelievably Hot Guy had also Incredibly Nice Lips and Absolutely Gorgeous Eyes, and he was almost starting to forget why he was pissed in the first place, while oh-so-not staring at him. “We just read the card and found it  very similar to… well, one of my poems. And since it wasn’t signed, I just wanted to understand what was going on, find out if maybe someone was taking credit that wasn’t theirs?”

The revelation had Nicky almost drop his jaw. He knew he should focus on the accusation, but all he could do was stare at the guy who was apparently responsible for keeping Nicky up more nights than he could remember, thinking about the brilliant mind behind those perfect words.

“I actually bought them," was all that came out of Nicky’s mouth. 

He realized that maybe he should have added more when the two friends shared a look, seeming rather confused.

“I haven’t published any of them, yet.”

“No, I mean… they were in a jar. I bought the jar.”

For a couple of minutes, there was only silence in the shop. Poet Guy - who was still very hot and still without a damn name to go with his face - opened his mouth a couple of times, but didn’t seem to know what to say, until his eyes widened. Nicky was pretty sure he’d had some sort of epiphany, and he wasn’t the only who had noticed.

“Joe? Joe, are you okay? What is he talking about?”

Joe - Nicky was secretly beaming, he'd finally gotten the name of the man who would haunt all his future dreams - looked very close to an existential crisis.

“Do you remember during college, when I used to live with Andy?” Sebastien nodded, but Nicky was too concentrated on Joe to even notice. “Well, there was this big red jar on the table, in the middle of the living room. Whenever I was struggling with a short poem, instead of throwing the paper away, I would just fold it and put it in the jar.”

Well, if those were Joe’s definition of failed poems, Nicky couldn’t wait to find some way or another to date this guy just so he could read the good ones.

“When she moved in with Quynh, she took the jar with her. I didn’t even realize at first, and after a while I sort of forgot about it. I also didn’t really care because I was sure she’d keep it, since she took it in the first place.” Joe seemed lost, and looked at Nicky as if he was the only one who could make sense of it all.

“If it helps, I can tell you that I bought it from a woman, long hair, mischievous smile, who said she was glad her wife was away for a while so she had time to get rid of the - and I quote - “atrocious bloody colored vase”?” Nicky finished the sentence with a sheepish smile, feeling himself blushing all of sudden.

“I don’t know what I was expecting, but this was definitely not it.” Sebastian shook his head and looked at Joe. “I don’t even think we can force him to stop, since technically he did buy the jar."

“I will definitely stop if Joe is uncomfortable with it.” Nicky raised his voice, slightly insulted by the insinuation. “I would never try to harm or profit from someone else’s work. Especially if that someone is an amazingly talented poet."

Joe was staring at him, looking entranced.

“But you said it yourself, this is what makes your customers coming back. I wouldn’t want to be the one to do the damage to you.”

Nicky was so going to marry this guy. On the spot. Damn it, he would even accept the obnoxious dude as the best man if he had to.

“Maybe we can work out a good compromise?” Nicky’s voice softened, almost as if he was about to share a secret. “I could still put the cards in the bouquet, but with your signature underneath each poem. And I’d give you a percentage over it, of course.”

“I, uh,” Joe’s cheeks were turning a lovely shade of red, and Nicky was torn between feeling pride in being the one who was actually responsible for that and wanting to melt at the sight of it, “what can I say, you do make it sound like a win-win situation. But, as I was saying before, those aren’t exactly poems I feel very confident about.”

“So why not write some new ones to go along with my bouquet?” Nicky knew, deep down, that he was pushing his luck, but he'd found that he really didn’t care that much, especially if he could find a way to get Joe to come back to his shop.

“Oh my God, I’m done. I’m not gonna stand here any longer watching the two of you shamelessly flirt like teenagers.” Sebastien threw his hands up in the air and started walking towards the door, turning around only to yell at Joe, “if you get laid tonight, remember to send me a 'thank you' note!"

“Once again, I really, really do apologize for him. He can be unbelievably crass, but he’s a good friend.” For the first time since he'd entered the shop, Joe gave Nicky a full-on smile, all teeth and dimples. And that’s when Nicky realized, once and for all, that he was utterly fucked.

“No problem,” Nicky let out in a croaked voice, finding it rather difficult to put together a coherent though, “I hope you’ll consider my offer.”

“I most definitely will.” Joe ran his fingers through his hair, looking almost embarrassed. “Maybe we could talk about it over a cup of coffee? I know a place nearby.”

And that’s how they ended up in the coffee shop owned by Quynh, who was absolutely delighted when they told her the whole story and didn’t even try to apologize to Joe, since she had just given him “the single most exciting meet cute of his entire existence”.

(Two years later, at their wedding, Booker and Quynh were still arguing over which one of them was responsible for such a lucky encounter. Nicky secretly spent his days thanking them both).

#the old guard #tog #nicky x joe #joe x nicky #yusuf x nicolo #nicolo x yusuf #yusuf al kaysani #nicolo di genova #booker #sebastien le livre #quynh #flower shop au #meet cute #first meeting #the old guard au #immortal husbands #kaysanova

[randomingoftherandomness]

Prompt: Former Father Nick's jealousy (😁) causes a fight between the three. With reconciliation sex.

A/N: I’m not currently accepting fic prompts and this is me slowly catching up with all the lovely prompts in my inbox ✌🏼

--

He regrets it the moment the syllables leave his lips and hang in the air between them. Very rarely now, has something cropped up and taken root in his chest, sinking its claws so deep into those deep and dark places to draw out the venom in his heart.

And the words that sting and hurt, the ones calculated to inflict the worst damage, now sit bare between himself and Basti. All emotions splayed like curdled milk gone sour in the heat of the sun.

"Do you think he could love you like he loves me?"

The intention to injure hits true and Nicky watches as Basti stumbles a step back, lips pursing and blue eyes shuttering. His walls have gone up and he is all defences now. He doesn't say a single thing in response when he turns and flees out the door.

Nicky, for all his infinite wisdom and kindness, was only human after all.

-

Joe doesn't have to say anything to say anything to convey his disappointment because it bleeds out of him in waves.

"I know, okay? I know." Nicky throws his hands up sitting down in his chair and sighs.

"Jealousy isn't a good look on anyone," Joe answers after a beat. Coming to his side, he lays his hand on his knee. "I know you think that Booker and I have some special bond, and I know that it makes you feel excluded when we're faffing about on something you can't share in. But Nicky, we both knew what it meant to love him. We know what we signed up for and I know you know that I love you both in different ways. Neither one of them more or less than the other."

Nicky leans forward and they press their brows together. "You love me, you love him. I love you and I love him. He loves you and he loves me," Joe continues, his breath dancing on Nicky's lips. "We're real. Sometimes our worst impulses get the best of us. We make mistakes, and yes it hurts, but what matters is what we do after."

For a moment, Nicky wishes he could just embrace the problem and hold it until it was better. But that's not how this works.

"I'm sorry," He says, closing his eyes. He feels Joe slide his hand over his chest, right over his heart.

"You are a good man, my darling. One of the best I've ever known and I love you with all of my heart." Joe nuzzles their noses together. "For all the years we have lived and the years we have left together, we are all human after all."

-

He finds Basti sitting in their garden, watching the late afternoon sunlight shift in molten gold mottling with the dancing leaves overhead. An empty bottle sits at the foot of his iron wrought garden chair and for one horrible moment, Nicky feels his stomach churn uncomfortably.

"I haven't resorted to drinking away my sorrows because of you if that's what you're worried about," Booker sighs, turning his face to him. "I made a promise."

Nicky tries not to let his relief and guilt take shape on his lips but he allows it into his smile when he drags his own garden chair closer to Booker's.

"Are you here to tell me to leave?" Booker asks. Nicky doesn't look away from his face, drowning himself in all the hurt he could see. The one he had put there.

"No," He answers, sinking into the seat. "Your place is here. With us."

Booker merely nods and this was enough for Nicky to push through. "You being here has brought us so much joy. Loving you and Joe is my life's greatest privilege and something I made a conscious choice to never take for granted."

He lays his hand palm side up on the armrest between them, feeling a breath of gratitude escape him in a rush when Booker takes it. Lifting their clasped hands to his lips, he presses a quick succession of kisses to Booker's knuckles.

"Yusuf thinks me kind but you see me for who I am," Nicky whispers. "You see that I can be cruel and capricious. And I'm sorry I hurt you. If you love me less for this, I can understand. But you must know that those words were spoken in jealousy and hurt. Joe and you always had this camaraderie that you and I do not, and I-"

"Who do I take antiquing with me?" Booker interrupts, squeezing his hand.

Nicky, taken aback by the sudden question. He thinks about their tradition of hitting up antique stores and markets wherever in the world they end up after missions. Joe never joins them on these trips. "Me."

The corner of Booker's lips tick upwards in a half smile. "Who do I trust to have my back when Joe gets on a case about foul or a referee's ruling?"

"Me."

"Who comes with me, every single time, when I buy flowers for my wife and children? And helps me arrange the most beautiful bouquets?"

“Me.”

“Who planted all these,” Booker gestures at the flowerbeds that marked the edges of their property. “Just because they were my wife’s favourites. Who was it who wanted me to have a place here in their home? In all their homes?”

Booker shuffles close, their knees and bare ankles touching. Warm skin against warm skin and Nicky looks up to see the sun in blue eyes and through the blurring of tears that he has been a fool.

"Me," Nicky says, the word tripping on his tongue. "Oh, Basti, Perdonami..."

A warm calloused thumb brushes away his tears, drawing him in to mirror the press of their brows like he did with Joe.

"I forgave you the words the moment you spoke them because I know you need reminding sometimes. Joe doesn't love you any less because he loves me, nor do I love you any more than I love him. Our love for each other is what it is; ours in all its infinitely flawed beauty."

This startles a wet laugh out of him which is briefly broken by a gentle press of dry lips to his own. Nicky sighs and Booker cups his cheek, stroking away the wetness that still streaks it. After a beat, Nicky leans in to kiss him again and Booker responds eagerly.

“Shall we go tell the mother hen that we’ve kissed and made up?” Booker asks, a little breathless when they part. The laugh that bubbles out of Nicky’s chest is warm like the setting sun.

#booker x joe x nicky #joe x booker x nicky #joe x nicky x booker #the old guard fic #gab writes stuff

[fireinmoonshot]

I love your writing!! Can we get more Booker content please? :)

A/N: Your icon... is my favourite moment in any film ever... that scene, oh my HEART. I was attacked both by your kindness and your icon. Bless you.

I don’t know where this idea came from. But I started it and then I kept on writing and it ended up being this and... I kind of love how it turned out.

It had been two hundred and ninety five days since Booker had touched alcohol. He’d never reached the stage of drinking where he felt he couldn’t live without it, but it had become a coping mechanism for him. It wasn’t like it could do any damage to him, anyway. The man couldn’t die, no matter how much he might have wanted to.

Coincidentally, it had been two hundred and ninety nine days since you had entered his life through his dreams, and two hundred and ninety seven days since he’d first seen you in person. The others had noticed something the second they met you.

Alcohol had been his coping mechanism against his endless life.

The second you stepped into his life, he no longer needed it.

But you were not a coping mechanism. You were his future.

It took Booker weeks to realise that. He hadn’t taken a drink for three weeks after he met you, and he hadn’t even noticed it. It took Joe asking him one night for it to dawn on him. His flask had remained full, but he hadn’t taken anything from it nor put anything into it. It had been tucked away in his jacket pocket like usual, yet he hadn’t felt the need to reach for it once.

You’d looked over at him and smiled, then, and Booker had known why.

Since then, the alcohol had remained a mere memory. The others drank it – Andy nearly as religiously as Booker once had – but he chose something else, every time. He wanted to be better for you without even realising it, though you wouldn’t have minded either way. You had already begun to like him exactly as he was. Your first sight of him had been walking into the safehouse to see him taking a swig from his flask. You’d noticed that he’d never done it since.

It was just wordless between the two of you. This unspoken thing.

Booker tried to be better, and you toyed with the idea that he might have been the reason behind all of it. Unbeknownst to you, Booker himself toyed with the idea, too. Then brushed it away with a shake of the head. The world wasn’t like that. The world hadn’t been kind to him before. What would make it kind to him now?

But then he’d see you again, and wonder would creep in.

The day that the words were spoken was a day both of you had been anticipating for some time but had never pushed. It had been during an evening when Nicky and Joe had gone to dinner together and Andy had decided to just be anywhere else. The safehouse was left alone to the two of you, and the words had tumbled out like water from a floodgate.

It had been you, it had always been you. Booker knew that.

It had been Booker, it had always been Booker. You knew that.

And when the others had come home that night, none of them were surprised by the revelation that the two of you were completely and utterly in love. They’d all seen it coming a mile off. None of them judged, none of them laughed. All they felt was immense happiness for the both of you. But especially for Booker. Booker, who had been so lonely for so long. Booker, who had been hanging on by a thread. Booker, who was just about to be swept under by the next wave.

Booker, who had taken your hand when you’d offered it and let you pull him to the surface.

#chaostwinsofdestruction #booker #booker x you #booker x reader #the old guard #the old guard x you #the old guard x reader #sebastien le livre #sebastien le livre x you #sebastien le livre x reader

[the-breath-in-air]

Nicolò Patrol (Chapter 4: The Rescue) [text of a Twine fanfic]

[If you'd rather read the story with sound and video cues, you can do so by clicking here]

If the goal of the current mission weren’t so serious, Joe might have been caught up in the surreality of what was happening. He was sitting in the back seat of a teleporting sentient van who was following directions from a man in a leopard-print hotpants. The man in leopard-print hotpants was, in turn, taking directions from an electromagnetic spirit who lived in a man wrapped in mummy bandages. The man in mummy bandages had allowed himself to be kidnapped in order to lead the rest of the team to the facility of a secret government agency.

Most importantly, the facility was where Nicky was being held captive. So Joe turned his mind away from the surreal situation. He instead focused on the plan; he’d need to be at the top of his game. They all would.

After what felt like an eternity, Danny finally turned off the radio.

“We’re here,” Flex announced.

Danny had actually teleported them a few blocks away from the Bureau of Normalcy, so they wouldn’t draw any unnecessary attention. It was here the team split up. Victor, Jane, Rita and Cliff would cause a distraction by attempting to enter the facility to stage a ‘rescue’ for Larry. Meanwhile, Nile, Andy, Booker and Joe would actually infiltrate the facility through a back entrance Victor had conveniently hacked open for them. Danny was standing by as their getaway and Flex was managing communication between the negative spirit and each group.

Just as they were moving out, Joe heard Cliff through his earpiece. “Uh, guys, what if they’re keeping this Nicky fella in a different facility than where they brought Larry?”

Joe heard Jane and Rita respond, “Shut up, Cliff.”

Joe knew the answer to that possibility, though. If Nicky wasn’t here, they’d simply have to take an agent of the Bureau hostage and use them to get Nicky back. Whether that meant using the hostage as leverage, or interrogating the hostage for information didn’t much matter to Joe.

Andy and Joe hadn’t shared this contingency with their new allies; they weren’t sure how the others would respond to taking part in a kidnapping. If it came to it, Nile, Andy, Booker and Joe would simply have to enact that backup plan on their own.

“Stay focused,” Andy ordered them as they took up their positions.

There was silence over the comms as the Doom Patrol moved into place. Joe waited with the second team for the signal to access the back door. Joe took slow and steady breaths. This is just another mission.

Suddenly the silence was broken by the sound of Robotman’s voice, coming through even with his comms turned off. “You Normalcy bastards better get the fuck out here right now,” Cliff shouted. “Release the Lar-bear! Give me my Lar-bear!” Next to Cliff, Jane had become Sun Daddy, a giant person with a sun for a head, and was throwing fireballs at the entrance to the base. Explosions punctuated Cliff’s vulgarities. “Fuck you, you absolute literal…” boom! “Come out here and…” boom! “FUCK!”

The distraction worked, and as the alarms on the base went off and personnel ran to confront the Doom Patrol, Joe, Nile, Andy and Booker quietly entered the Bureau of Normalcy’s headquarters. “We’re in,” Andy said over the comms.

Infiltrating an enemy’s prison was, in many ways, a fairly routine mission. Joe and the others had done this countless times before. Weapons ready, they moved through the hallways fluidly, appearing almost as a choreographed dance. This helped them cover ground quickly, which was necessary as the building complex was large.

It soon became clear why they had come across so little resistance as they made their way to the cell Victor had identified as Nicky’s via hacked security logs. Any guards who weren’t responding to the commotion outside the building, were stationed right outside the door to Nicky’s cell. The four immortals made quick work of the dozen, or so, guards. They never stood a chance.

“Victor you’re up,” Andy stated.

“Copy,” Victor responded.

Now that the team was standing at the cell door, Victor would need to remotely open it.

“Uh, Keeg asks that you hurry. Larry is being tortured,” came Flex’s voice over the comms.

“Copy,” was all Andy said in response. She was keeping it all business.

Joe wanted to point out that they were there to rescue Nicky as a top priority. He wanted to tell Flex that they’d find Larry after they saved the love of his life from whatever horrors the Bureau had been inflicting on him. But Joe said none of that. Andy was right to keep things professional. Plus, Joe really did want to save Larry from torture too. He just couldn’t prioritize that part of the mission right now.

The mechanism that locked the cell door audibly released, and Joe looked at Andy to confirm everyone was ready to breach the cell. She nodded back to him and he opened the door and rolled into the room in a fluid motion, weapon ready in case someone from the Bureau was in the room.

Joe saw Nicky strapped to a medical table, with a newly regrown arm. Relief flooded Joe as he saw that Nicky was alive. It was all he could do to keep himself from collapsing onto him. Then Joe noticed that a cleaner was standing near the medical table with a mop, washing away the blood on the floor. Joe cleared his head and returned to focusing on the mission. They weren’t out yet.

“Back away slowly,” Joe ordered.

Nicky spoke as the cleaner moved to the opposite side of the room, “Alex, here, was just about to help me escape.”

“Oh thank goodness you arrived,” Alex was saying. “I really wasn’t sure what to do. It all seemed so horrible. Like, worse than usual, even…”

As Alex babbled on, Joe swiftly moved toward Nicky and began releasing him from the table. They embraced briefly. It’s not over yet. Joe handed Nicky a firearm and Nicky nodded as he took it with his good hand. “Stay here until it’s safe,” Nicky said to Alex.

Joe and Nicky emerged from the cell and they silently greeted Nile, Booker and Andy, who had been keeping watch at the door. There’d be time for an emotional reunion after they had finished their escape.

“Flex, we have Nicky. Have you located Larry?” Andy asked.

“Down the corridor and make a right. Cell #247,” Flex replied.

By this time, the distraction from the Doom Patrol had stopped being useful as a distraction. Now it was just a fight. And Sun Daddy’s fireballs were proving to be more of a hindrance. “Jane, cease the fireballs,” Andy ordered over the comms as the team made their way toward Larry’s cell. “Just be glad she’s not Karen right now,” Rita replied.

When they arrived, Joe noticed that the cell was suspiciously unguarded. “It’s a trap,” Nile said. “Agreed,” Andy acknowledged.

Joe turned to Nicky to assure himself that Nicky was up for this. There had been a lot of blood in that cell, and Nicky’s entire harm had only just become usable again. Nicky silently patted Joe’s shoulder in reassurance.

With that, Andy gave the signal. It might be a trap, but they were immortal. Their biggest concern was making sure Larry didn’t end up collateral damage. “Relay to Keeg that Larry will want to duck if possible,” Joe said as they took up positions outside the cell. “Victor..”

“One step ahead of you,” Victor replied as the lock to Larry’s cell was released.

This time Andy breached the cell door first, with her labrys at the ready. Joe heard gunshots ring out as Andy tore through the guards in the room. Meanwhile, more guards poured out of the adjacent cells. “What’d I say?” Nile said as she met the onslaught. “When you’re right, you’re right,” Booker replied.

The resulting fight was brutal, but ultimately the team was victorious. Andy emerged from the cell with Larry slumped against her. Cliff, Jane, Rita and Victor came up behind the dwindling guards and cut through them effectively. “We need to leave. Now,” Andy said as the two teams rendezvoused. “On it,” Jane, or more accurately Flit, said as she stuck her hands out like she was ready for a football huddle. “Hands in everyone,” Rita said wearily.

By this point, Joe trusted this other team enough to believe that whatever was about to happen, it would aid in their escape. So he and the others all put their hands in. A moment later they were all standing outside the Bureau’s headquarters, right next to Danny and Flex. “Why didn’t you simply teleport us to the house?” Booker asked. “Actually, why didn’t you simply teleport us directly into the facility in the first place,” Andy added. Jane, who had again become Jane, simply shrugged. “Flit does what she wants.”

Quickly, both teams hurried into the back of Danny they instantly teleported them to Dr. Calculator’s mansion. Everyone climbed out of the van and stood aways from Joe and Nicky as they reunited. Danny turned on the radio to provide what they thought was the perfect soundtrack.

Joe was so shocked by what Nicky had just revealed to him, that he didn’t even realize what song was playing or see Danny’s message. But when he finally recognized the song, he burst into tears and collapsed into Nicky’s arms. The anger, fear and tension from the past few days was finally released. “I just got you back,” Joe murmured between sobs. The Origin of Love, indeed.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Nicky reassured him as he wrapped his arms around Joe. “Not any time soon.”

Joe drew a knife from his utility belt and quickly sliced open his own finger. The pain was familiar. What was not familiar was how long the pain lingered. He watched his own finger intently, waiting to see if it would heal as it usually did. A few seconds passed by and the blood started to drip down. It hadn’t begun to heal, though.

Joe’s sobs turned into quieter sighs as his worst fears were ameliorated. For a few brief moments, Joe had imagined the possibility that he and Nicky had been wrong about their destiny. That Nicky might die in a few brief decades, and Joe would be forced to continue on alone. “I’m going to need a band-aid,” Joe called out as his breathing returned to normal. “And Nicky needs to be patched up. A bullet grazed his side.”

On hearing the call for bandages, Danny turned off his radio and everyone gathered near the two of them. “You need what?” Nile asked in disbelief.

Joe held up his bleeding finger and Nicky lifted his shirt to reveal his wound. “It’s nothing serious,” Nicky reassured everyone. “We’re just going to die some day.”

“Well, fuck,” said Cliff. “Aren’t we all.”

#the old guard #doom patrol #danny the street #nicolo di genova #larry trainor #flex mentallo #nile freeman #andromache the scythian #sebastian le livre #victor stone #rita farr #cliff steele #crazy jane #immortal husbands #nicky x joe #joe x nicky #if found #my fanfic #nicolò patrol #the plan #chapter 4 #yusuf al kaysani

[scythian-andromache]

is it really a road-trip if you don't stop at a 7-Eleven?

A ‘The Old Guard’ gen fic that is a companion piece to this fic, but can be read solo

Also available on [AO3]

Summary:  In the middle of a road-trip, the Old Guard Immortals make a stop at a 7-Eleven. A lot of bickering ensues, but that's what happens when you take road-trips with your family.

***

It’s been two hours since they got into the shootout, which brings their Days Without An Incident count (previously at four) back to zero.  

That was on them, a stupid mistake that’s put something of a damper on their road-trip (end goal: Grand Canyon, but who knows if they’ll actually make it there before something goes horribly wrong). Since then, they’ve been driving steadily westward. It’s nearly two in the morning, but Andy is (still) driving, and the rest of them are in various states of dozing—or as much as one can doze when Andy’s driving.

“Fuck, we’re getting low on gas.” Andy says this out loud like it’s a surprise, like there isn’t a gauge on the dash with the sole purpose of keeping the driver apprised of the gas levels.  

“This is the last exit for thirty miles,” Joe says absently, eyes closed and feet propped up. They’re also, by all rights, past the acceptable merge point.

In response, Andy swerves across two full traffic lanes and cuts off the only other driver on the road to pull off the exit ramp, not bothering to stop at the stop sign and careening across the road and into the 7-Eleven’s parking lot.

Booker lets out several extremely creative swears in a mix of French and English. “Jesus, Andy, there are traffic laws; please follow at least one of them,” he groans.

“My headlights are on,” says Andy, like that settles it, and Booker swears again.

“If not for us, then for you! You’re not invulnerable anymore!”

Andy rolls her eyes. “My driving has never gotten a single one of us killed.”

Booker makes a face that clearly indicates he’s skeptical of that answer, but whatever he’s working up to is interrupted by a new voice in the conversation.

“Nile could take over for a little bit,” suggests Nicky, blearily clearing sleep from his eyes.

“Nile doesn’t even have a license right now,” Booker shoots back, exasperated.

“Nile doesn’t even have a birth certificate right now,” grumbles Nile from where she’s squished between them. “The only thing I’m legally classified as is a problem.” Quỳnh laughs from where she’s laying—apparently not asleep—in the very back, among their duffle bags. No seatbelt, but far more room than Nicky, Nile, and Booker have, all crammed in together on the bench seat not really meant for three.

Nicky, meanwhile, ignores Nile’s comment, looking directly at Booker as he asks combatively, “And whose fault is that?”

“Oh, come on,” says Booker. “I haven’t had time to forge a new identity for her!”

Nicky says something under his breath in Italian and Booker flings open the car door and stalks toward the bright beacon of the convenience store.

“I’m getting snacks, Joe,” says Nicky, and follows. Joe gets out and opens the hatch to check their supply of baklava—not that the 7-Eleven off I-40 is the spot to replenish it—and Andy exchanges a few words with Quỳnh, while Nile sighs and starts pumping gas. After a few moments, Andy and Joe head inside too.

“You don’t want anything?” asks Nile, peering into the car to check on Quỳnh.

“Joe will buy more snacks than he needs in case Nicky wants them, and then I will steal them from them both,” says Quỳnh, a mischievous smile on her face, and Nile can’t help but laugh. They had a rough start, her and Quỳnh, but they get along pretty well now.

“Fair enough,” Nile says, as she returns the pump to its hook.

“Maybe a pair of earplugs,” Quỳnh muses, as an afterthought. “To drown out their relentless bickering. The only thing I miss about the ocean is the peace and quiet,” she deadpans, and Nile almost chokes on her gallows humor.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Nile says, and pulls the car around before heading inside herself.

They’re all still bickering when she gets inside—of course they are. Immortals, with more years between them than the populations of whole towns, and they’re still children. She heaves a long-suffering sigh—it’s self-care, okay?—and says, “We’re all gassed up and ready. Everyone got their snacks?”

“Not quite,” says Joe, and then tells Booker—in English, this time—to let him drive. Damn, they’re still on that?

Nile lets them be, looking around a little for some earplugs for Quỳnh, until she hears their voices raise, and Booker practically yells, “—and we got stuck behind Soviet borders for a MONTH.”

Shit. She glances over at the cashier, who looks entirely too interested in this particular conversation. For all their talk of laying low, they can be pretty bad at it, sometimes. Sighing again, she sashays over to the counter, throws on her most charming smile and says, in an effort to disrupt whatever train of thought is mentally calculating how they could possibly have been detained behind Soviet borders, “Hi! I was wondering if you had any earplugs?”

They do not have earplugs, and she tries to keep him distracted, but it backfires a little, because she’s forgotten she’s still wearing the same clothes from the shoot up—they all are—and the cashier (Andrew, his name-tag says) has noticed.

“Costume party,” she says, a lame excuse, but the best she’s got, and she’s about to talk about how their theater friend does really extravagant murder-mystery parties when the rest of them decide they’re done bickering, and drop all their shit on the counter.

Andy gives the cashier the iciest look Nile’s seen from her in at least three days, and the poor kid hops to, ringing in enough candy to send their bodies pre-diabetes until they reboot again.

Joe, Nicky, and Andy all head out, leaving her and Booker to finish up the transaction, and then Booker—that absolute dipshit—drops a hundred euro note on the counter instead of USD.

“Idiot,” Nile hisses in French, elbowing him and fishing money out of her out wallet. She pockets the euro note (serves him right) and grabs their bags.

“Keep the change,” she says to the cashier, and uses her free hand to pinch Booker’s arm hard (“Ow!”) and steer him out of the shop. They slide into the back seat of the waiting car (Andy, unfortunately, is still driving), and it skids off before the door is even fully closed.

“Y’all need to work on your subtlety,” says Nile, glancing back at the gas station, where the cashier is standing in the door, staring after them. “Or at least have your arguments in French. That kid was listening to everything.”

Andy waves a hand dismissively—unfortunately, it also happens to be the hand that was holding the wheel and the car swerves—and says, “We’ll send a text to Copley. He can wipe the footage. What’s one more convenience store after a bloodbath?”

“Yeah? You also gonna wipe that kid’s brain?”

“We’re in the middle of nowhere, and he’s a nobody,” says Booker.

“I was a nobody,” hisses Nile. “You can’t just…discount people like that. That kid could become the next Kozak or the next Copley, or someone just like them could see him as collateral damage when they try to find us.”

“You are right, Nile.” It’s Nicky who says it. “It is easy to let people blur together, to believe them inconsequential, but it’s a poor mentality to have. We will be more careful.”

“That’s all I ask,” says Nile, softly. The car lapses into silence for a few moments until Joe asks for his Twizzlers, and all of a sudden there’s bickering over who bought what snacks.

Quỳnh somehow ends up with a pair of Twinkies and the Flaming Hot Cheetos, and just gives Nile a little wink over the back of the seat when Nicky says, “Booker, did you steal some of my Twinkies?”

Booker makes an indignant noise in the back of his throat, flashes his bar of chocolate, and says, “You couldn’t pay me to eat that garbage!”

Nile laughs into her iced tea, and then looks up and accidentally makes eye contact with Andy in the rear-view mirror. She’s got an amused smile playing around her mouth, everything in her expression telegraphing her fondness, and also her exhaustion.

“Let me drive for a while,” Nile says, over the argument happening between Booker and Nicky (“Don’t call them garbage, a Twinkie is just a petite madelaine with a little cream in it.” / “How dare you even utter Twinkie and petite madelaine in the same breath!”)

“You don’t have a license,” says Andy, although it’s a weaker protest than it had been before they stopped at the gas station.  

“Oh, come on. Like that’s gonna make a difference. Like you’re really gonna show a license to the police if they pull you over for a traffic violation.”

“I—”

“You need sleep, Andy. Pull the fuck over.”

To the astonishment of the whole car, Andy does. Well, except for—

“Ha!” whoops Nicky gleefully, leaning around Nile to get a better look at Booker. “Pay up!”

“Nile stole my euros,” says Booker grumpily.

“No. Uh-uh. Don’t make this about me,” says Nile, as everyone shifts around to accommodate the change in drivers. “I know you have more. And besides, I spent $100 at the store.”

“You were the one that told him to keep the change, and besides, a hundred euros is ten dollars more than a hundred dollars.”

“It was $87 and I was just trying to get us the fuck out of there. And consider it a dumbass tax, for trying to give him euros in the first place,” says Nile, and the car erupts in cackles.

“Everyone good?” She checks the rear-view mirror as she pulls back onto the highway: Andy has climbed into the very back to stretch out (snuggle) with Quỳnh; Joe and Nicky are shifting around in the back seat; and Booker is sitting shotgun next to her.

“I’m not,” complains Nicky. “Booker still hasn’t paid me.”

Booker says something under his breath, but digs his wallet out of his pocket and fishes a fifty euro note out, passing it back to Nicky.

“Grazie,” he says, waving the note to Joe like it’s a trophy.

Booker huffs. “Prego, è stato un piacere, va’ all’inferno!”

“No, I don’t think I will,” says Nicky pleasantly. “I have a papal indulgence.”

That draws raucous laughter from both Joe and Quỳnh, and for all that he puts on the air of being grumpy, Nile sees Booker’s smirk from the corner of her eye.

They all settle down pretty quickly after that; it has been a long day, after all. They’re the only car on the road, and the miles disappear into the inky black night quickly as they fly down I-40. The next time Nile glances into her rear-view mirror, she sees that Andy and Quỳnh have tucked themselves into each other, and Joe is leaning into Nicky, arms half around him as they doze together.  

Only Booker, slouched in the seat next to her, remains awake. “You can go to sleep, Book,” she says, easy.

“Nah,” he says, “someone must stay awake with the driver.”

She doesn’t take his statement at face value, but she doesn’t challenge him on it either. “Well,” she says lightly, “then you’re the DJ. Find us something good.”

Booker leans forward and turns the radio on low. The opening strains of a Depeche Mode song drift from the speakers, and Booker hisses. “English bastards with a French name,” he says, but tellingly doesn’t change the channel. He must secretly like this song.

As the song fades out and the opening chords of another song thrum, Nile looks over to find that Booker, too, has drifted off, but Nile finds she doesn’t mind. She’s surrounded by her ridiculous family, finally taking a break, and she’s got this. She turns her attention back to the highway, focusing on the thrum of the engine and the soft strains of the music and the peacefulness of an empty road, as they move ever closer to their next adventure.

***

fin.

***

~Twizzlers are halal! ~grazie = thanks ~Prego, è stato un piacere, va’ all’inferno! = (roughly; I am not a native speaker) “yeah, you’re welcome, my pleasure, now go to hell” (PS: Italian has all kinds of fun, creative, extremely dirty swears. Soooo even though Booker technically says "go to hell", it's fairly mild. Nicky's still salty at Booker but not salty enough to take it seriously.) ~There really was a papal edict offering indulgences to those partaking in the crusades. Nicky 100% exploits this.

***   

#the old guard #the old guard fanfiction #nile freeman #andromache the scythian #sébastien le livre #nicolò di genova #yusuf al-kaysani #quỳnh #lenci writes #gen fic #road trip fic

[rileywrites]

Hi you say in your bio that prompts are open but I still want to ask and make sure. I have one for nile/booker, the first time both of them said "I love you" to the other. Thank you if you decide to write this! Also wanted to say your book of nile series is AMAZING! I am always excited getting the emails of a new fic!

Prompts are absolutely open! Thank you so much for your lovely comments as well. <3

(Read on Ao3)

Nile has been immortal for fifteen years.

Dying never gets less terrifying and disorienting.

"C'mon, Nile, wake up."

Somehow, the least violent deaths can have the worst consequences. Nile knew the drink was poisoned as soon as she tasted it, but it was too late. Death came too fast to stop it and too slow to be a relief.

"Nile, I need you to wake up. I need you to stay with me."

It's hard to muster the energy to open her eyes. Puking yourself to death and then back to life will do that to you.

"Oh thank fuck." Booker looks like he's seen a ghost. He holds her up so she can retch without aspirating. "That's it, get the last of it out."

"Fuck." It comes out raw, voice ruined from the poison and the stomach acid.

"I couldn't agree more." Booker squeezes the back of her neck. "Let's get out of here, before they realize your body is gone."

"Help me?" Nile can tell her body isn't done healing yet.

"I've got you." Booker hoists her up, his arm around her waist and her arm around his shoulders. They've done this a thousand times before, so even Nile's weak body can handle the muscle memory. "Good?"

"As I can be." Everything hurts. "Fuck poison."

"Fuck poison," Booker agrees.

Nile lets her head hang as Booker maneuvers her back to the car. Keeping her eyes open is too hard.

The next time she regains full consciousness, Booker is carrying her into the safehouse. It's tiny, a bolt-hole Joe and Nicky bought in the '40s.

"You need to shower," Booker says, propping her against the counter. "Need help?"

"Please."

Booker disarms her, putting her weapons aside to clean later. Nile lifts her arms so he can get her shirt off.

"Careful, I don't want you to get any more vomit on you," he warns, maneuvering it over her head and tossing it on the floor. "I will burn that later."

Together, they get Nile out of her clothes and into the shower. Booker sits on the closed toilet lid to ensure she doesn't pass out again.

By the time she's clean, Nile is back to her baseline level of exhaustion.

"I'm good, Book."

Booker hands a towel around the shower curtain.

"I'll handle our clothes, then I'll take my turn."

Nile dries off some and wraps the towel around herself. Getting out of the shower is a bit of a risk, but Booker steadies her.

"Thanks. I'm gonna get dressed."

"And drink some water."

"And drink some water," Nile parrots, her smile belying her mocking tone.

Nile ends up wearing one of Booker's umpteen denim shirts and a pair of athletic shorts that were probably Joe's at some point. She makes a mental note to pick up some more clothes for her go-bag before they leave. They don't keep much at the less-used safehouses.

Booker will worry if she goes to sleep too soon, so Nile settles in one of the two mismatched chairs at the table wedged into the corner of the living space.

Booker strips to his underwear to examine the damage. The worst of their sullied clothes go into the furnace, the rest into the pile for laundry.

"I'll be quick," he promises. "Drink your water, and don't fall asleep without me there. Deal?"

"Deal." Nile crosses her heart. "Go, get clean. You deserve a hot shower."

She updates the team on the shitshow and stows her satellite phone in her backpack. She'll worry about the implications of this fuckery tomorrow. For now, she just wants to go to bed.

Booker emerges from the bathroom in clean underwear and a tank top, no longer smelling vaguely of Nile's death throes. He looks soft and cozy, damp hair hanging in his eyes.

"C'mon, bed time. You're mostly asleep already."

Nile gets into bed while Booker checks all the locks again. He joins her, crawling under the mountain of quilts and settling on his side facing her.

Nile holds out her hand, and he takes it, thumb skimming her pulse point.

"I'm okay," she whispers. "We're okay."

The long, painful deaths are always the hardest to cope with on both sides of the encounter.

"I know." Booker forces a tiny smile. "Get some sleep."

Nile is not in a place to argue. She tugs the quilts up to her chin with her free hand, closes her eyes, and slips almost immediately into a deep, dreamless sleep.

...

Nile wakes an unknown number of hours later alone, a note left on Booker's pillow.

Went to get some groceries. Eat something, please. Will be back by noon local. - B.

It's only eleven. She is hungry though, thanks to the total evacuation of dinner last night.

Nile finds a granola bar in the pantry that isn't stale yet. It'll do.

She's halfway through the (kind of shitty) granola bar when Booker gets back with the groceries.

"Look who's up. Catch." He pulls something out of the bag and tosses it at her. "I found the fancy juice you like."

Nile catches the bottle and grins.

"Fuck yeah. Shit like this is why I'm in love with you, Book."

She has the cap off and the bottle to her lips before the comment registers. Before she realizes how still Booker has become.

"Yeah?" He asks, carefully casual.

Nile takes stock. She doesn't want to answer this rashly.

Looking back at the past fifteen years through this lens, a clear picture starts to form.

"Yeah," Nile finally says. "Yeah, I love you."

Booker puts the last few things in the fridge.

"I got a pack of t-shirts," he says, taking the grocery bag into the bedroom.

Nile sits there with her half-eaten granola bar, processing what the hell just happened.

Did she just ruin their shared eternity?

Booker comes back in before she can spiral. His boots thud on the linoleum.

A man on a mission, Booker pulls her out of the chair into his arms and kisses her. Nile wraps her arms around his neck.

Nile feels a piece of her soul click into place that she didn't even realize she was missing.

When they finally part, moments or days or years later, Booker rests his forehead against hers.

"I love you, too. I'm in love with you."

The reassurance soothes a brand-new ache in Nile's chest. She plays with the hair at the nape of his neck.

"Good. That's... that's good. Because I love you." Nile kisses him again. "So this is a thing we're doing?"

"I've been doing it far longer than you realize," Booker says in that pained, half-joking tone that means he's serious. "It's about time you joined me."

#prompt fic #book of nile #rileywrites #oh my god they were soulmates #Anonymous #RileyWrites Fanfiction #my work #the old guard #tog fanfiction

[microsuedemouse]

man it has been a MINUTE since I made my own post about anything fandom-related on this website but @suzirya is blogging about The Old Guard and I haven’t seen anyone else talking about it really and I’ve got. some thoughts

I had literally never heard of this movie at all until a few nights ago when we were eating dinner in the living room and my dad pulled it up and said ‘hey I want to watch this’ and played the trailer for my brother and me. We were pretty much like yeah, sure, we all enjoy a good action flick, and aside from my other brother (who was occupied with D&D) it ended up being the whole family watching it. and I enjoyed it WAY more than I’d anticipated, especially for something I’d never heard about.

if you don’t know what I’m talking about: drop what you’re doing and go watch The Old Guard on Netflix. (it’s a Netflix original so yes it will be there.) it’s a very fun and good action film based on a series of graphic novels about a small group of immortals trying to do what’s right. there are many selling points but one of them is that it will be very good for your little gay soul, bc Charlize Theron stars (in a character with no explicitly-stated romances but lots of relationships that will make you Feel Things) and two of the other main characters are two men who met during the Crusades and are just amazingly in love with each other. And not in a vague way that the straights can interpret as Powerful Friendship. They are explicitly in love with each other and so devoted and ugh.

ANYWAY. putting the rest of my chattering under a cut bc spoilers and also I’m a wordy piece of shit

1 - early in this movie I was thinking about how glad I am that Charlize Theron has stepped into this role of like... cool female action star, but also, her characters are never super sexed up. almost any female characters I can think of in action movies, if they’re part of the action rather than victims/bystanders, are always made sexy. even when they’re Strong sexy, they’re still... a lot sometimes? I was thinking especially of some Angelina Jolie stuff, Scarlett Johanssen, etc. there are probably lots of exceptions to this that I just don’t know but still - we’ve had Theron in several roles like this recently, and appearance-wise she’s treated with the same respect as her male counterparts, which is so fucking cool and also such a fucking relief. we all love beautiful ladies, obviously, but it’s so SO good to see our female heroes just doing their jobs, without us ever being made aware of their sexuality.

and as the movie went on this was hitting me more and more, and I was also thinking it about... everyone? like. the other female lead, played by KiKi Layne, was arguably more feminine than Theron but not any more sexualised. even once she’s out of her army fatigues she’s dressed with practicality in mind, and again, we never have her female-ness pointed out to us. and I was so about every bit of that. both objectively and as a person whose relationship to female-ness and femininity is kind of weird, it’s such a good thing to see leading women whose gender and appearances and bodies aren’t being focussed on that way.

and as a sidebar to that, while I wouldn’t describe any of the prominent male characters as unattractive by any means, none of them were like... Marvel-actor hot. and I just, idk, especially in action/superhero movies, that’s refreshing to me. a lot of them looked like Regular Dudes in a way that I find very appealing.

2 - can we TALK about Joe and Nicky. holy shit. my brother and I kept leaning over to each other to be like ‘if anything happens to either of them I’ll riot.’ I MEAN.

we got a genuine, explicit, on-screen established romance between these men. it was not implied, it was not just how the actors played it in the hopes that people would catch on - it was right there. they hold each other to sleep, they kiss each other with such love, they talk to other characters about how much they adore each other. they met during the Crusades. they’ve been in love for centuries! and they’re so sweet, so devoted, so adoring! and they never have any arguments or tension to further the plot (one of my personal most-hated plot devices in any story with an established relationship). they just spend this movie loving each other, protecting each other and their weird little family, doing anything they can for each other. they’re taken prisoner and spend their time awake joking and making each other smile. and the one singular bit of casual homophobia they encounter on-screen is met with a declaration of love so heartfelt and intense that the guy who made the shitty comment literally doesn’t know what to say - which is a brief but extremely good scene in the movie, imo.

oh, also worth noting: this romance is biracial and interfaith (inasmuch as either of them may be men of faith after being alive for centuries). just to add to how good this is to see on-screen. all of this on top of them being IMMORTAL AND UNKILLABLE. NO GAYS BURIED HERE

2.5 - can I talk for a second about how goddamn much I love seeing non-hetero romance in genre fiction!!! I know it’s getting easier to find, but still. genre fiction is very much my domain and I love seeing queer romance there, especially when it’s simply an accepted fact and the characters’ queerness isn’t central to the story. narratives about queerness are good and important and serve a function but most of them aren’t really my thing, personally. a story that’s about all kinds of other things but also has queer characters there, being themselves, being in love, is so 1000% my shit.

3 - also? Charlize Theron’s character, Andy?? fascinating from a queer perspective. she doesn’t have any explicitly-stated romance with anyone, but her relationships with other characters are so compelling and so interesting. The backstory about her and another immortal, Quynh, very very distinctly gives you the impression that they were women in love. everything about Andy’s guilt and bitterness over not having been able to find/save Quynh feels so much like there was a romance there. it could have been platonic or familial - they were together, without anyone else, for centuries at least, and therefore obviously developed a very deep love - but the way Andy talks about Quynh it feels so much like there was something left unsaid, or unresolved.

also, her scene with the clerk in the pharmacy. oh my god. this woman clearly recognises that whatever is going on with Andy, something is wrong, and she offers her help, no questions asked. she takes her into the back room and patches up her wound. this scene has such an inherent intimacy because of the close quarters and the privacy and the act taking place, but... there’s also this really interesting connection happening between them, where they recognise something in one another but don’t state it. (personally, I couldn’t help wondering if the clerk was a domestic abuse survivor, maybe? but there are so many ways you could interpret her character from her behaviour and dialogue in that scene, and I’d love to see other people’s takes.)

and then on the other hand you have her relationship with Booker, who’s been with her the longest out of any of the living immortals. they’re incredible. their relationship is so, so interesting and well-depicted! they have such chemistry, that you can easily read as romantic or platonic. they’ve been together for so many hundreds of years and they work together, trust each other, with such a deep understanding and love and respect. and it never quite tips over into the romance you kind of think it will, which imo only makes it that much more compelling - there are so many directions you could take that dynamic.

4 - and then on the topic of Booker: I am SO into the way his betrayal was handled.

he did, undeniably, betray the others. there’s no argument on that fact. his motivations were understandable (and heartbreaking), even to Andy, though certainly not an excuse. so yes, they were furious with him. reasonably so! but... that didn’t actually break their relationships with him. they didn’t leave him behind in the lab, even if in some ways they might have wanted to. and in the ensuing battle, they were still able to work together and trust each other as they always have. the damage done to their larger relationship was put aside to be dealt with after all of this, as it should be. and even when they did deal with it, what they agreed on was just a century of exile from their group. given the lives they’re all living, that seems like such a mild sentence.

but to me, it makes so much sense. again, these people have lived for centuries, and there are so few of them. they need each other. the bonds they’ve formed over all this time together - the trust, the love, the sense of family - would not only be vital to both their survival and their sanity, but also incredibly difficult to truly break. what he did would seem unforgivable from an outside perspective, and even after that century passed I’m certain he’d have to earn back their trust and respect, but it makes absolute sense that they’d be willing to take him back one day.

god. GOD. I’m sure there’s more I could talk about but this is what I can think of right now and I’ve been typing for like forty minutes probably so I’m done for now but.

god.

this movie and its characters GOT ME, guys. I’m really in it. ugh UGH

#the old guard #Courtney talks

[pisceserena]

The End (Part 2)

Part 1 here

A/N: So this is posted a bit late-r than I planned. But here is part 1 anyway! This is quite long, and I hope you take the time to read it. Thank you guys so much for reading my fics! 

wordcount: 1,779

AndromacheTheScythianxReader

No one knows how long it’s been since Andy and (Name) have actually interacted. The two have resulted to going back to how they were before. Cold, and with walls greater than the Great Wall of China. The two only speaking when needed, they are still a team after all. 

Behind the strong facade (Name) puts up, is a person who is broken inside. Only letting herself go in the comfort of her bedroom or her bathroom. After countless nights of tears, and the discomfort of not being able breathe well due to their nose getting clogged, they’ve decided getting over someone won’t be possible if they’ll always see Andy. Not to mention the fact that being with her in missions results to her losing focus. No matter what happened between them, they wanted her alive...for as long as possible, even if it won’t be with them. It was the day after that (Name) has decided they was done breaking down, Quyhn will live a long life, and Andy would be there till her last breath. They should move on. And distance is needed if they wanted it fast. It was the day after that, they decided to go on missions on their own. They could take care of themself. They didn’t need anyone.

“I want work alone Copley.” Not all for it at the start, but after a few persuading and the “Not like there’s much that can be done with me, I can’t die” line from (Name), he eventually gave in. When the team asked about it, all Copley saud was that it was they wanted and that his hands were tied. In his defense, (Name) could be scarily persuasive if they wanted to be. 

“Copley wants to see you in his office.” The sound of the throwing knife hitting the bullseye echoes in the room. “Are you working on missions alone?” Joe inquires, concern etched on his face. Taking a deep breath, (Name) throws the knife, not bothering to look at the target. “ I figured it would be best to be as detached as possible.” Not knowing what to say, Joe lets them walk past him, seeing the knife they nonchalantly threw at the target embedded on the bulls-eye. They were strong, but so broken inside, everyone sees that, Andy just chooses to turn a blind eye. She was with Quyhn, and wasn’t it (Name) that broke up with her? She hasn’t realized herself that she was in denial.

Quyhn at first was clueless, she didn’t know what was going on, why there was tension and why the two acted the way they did. It took a few days, but she was finally able to pick up on what was going on. She didn’t mean to intervene. She didn’t want to be the cause the two didn’t end up together. When she confronted Andy, she’d always brush it off. Saying that they were broken up, and it was just a short thing.

“This is your mission-” Copley starts, handing her a file and and ipad with a satellite map pinned. “that warehouse, in the outskirts of London, just a few miles from here, is where 3 daughters of a very important person is being kept hostage.” Their brows furrowed. What is it with men always targeting women? They looked through the file. Seems pretty easy. “You just need to take out the men, and get the girls to the car that will wait for them outside the facility gates.” They nod in understanding. “How many men?” Copley stares at them handing over the keys that they’ll use to drive themself to the location. He decided that in order to keep the warrior’s profile lowkey and what they were were doing a secret, (Name) couldn’t be the one to take the 3 girls back to their homes, hence the separate car with a clueless driver. 

He zooms in on the satellite map and points out the possible entries and exits. “There are 2 guards at a bird’s eye view that you need to take out before the 2 infront of the facility’s main gate. Otherwise, the rest will be alarmed and you’ll be out numbered-” 

“Because being outnumbered can really do me some damage” They roll their eyes before sarcastically gasping “what if I get killed?” They joke chuckling to themself. Unimpressed, Copley sits down and rests his hand together on his desk. “There’s 3 in the 2 entrance and exit points of the warehouse. Once you get in, there will be 6 surrounding the girls.” He finishes “Should be easy enough” They say standing up, Copley following suite. “Get what you need and load up. Not that you’ll think of it as much but, Goodluck, and come back safe”

Grabbing a DLQ33, (Name) tests to see if the the scope was clear and in good condition. “Need some help with that?” Nicolo’s voice loud that she could hear, but soft that it does not echo in the room. “I got it” They reply continue to move around putting the weapons she needed in bags, strapping herself with her throwing knives and such. It was silent for awhile, Nicolo watched as the broken warrior attached an extended mag to their AK117 “You don’t have to do this alone caro” his pet name made them pause. Oh how they missed the team. But as quickly as it came, it was pushed back just as fast. “I can do this Nicky” They reply adding the stock for penetration and the red dot sight for better aim. Grabbing more bullets, and stuffing it in the bag, they stop to turn to Nicky. “I just need to let all of these feelings go Nick.This is the only effective way of me releasing all the bad thoughts and negative emotions. Let me cope...please” Their voice getting soft, pleading towards the end. Silence once again embraces them. Their eye contact breaking when (Name) zips up the bag and hauls it over their shoulder. They take one last look at Nicky before proceeding to head upstairs towards the garage. 

“(Name)? You dropped this” Nile says handing to them the car keys. “Thanks” they reply walking faster and towards the car. “I can help you (Name) atleast take me with you” smiling and ruffling Nile’s hair, “I’ll see you when I get back champ” they smile reassuringly and unlock the car. 

“Need some help?” Booker asks, being the one to load up the car. “You’re going against 17 men (Name)” His words not bothering them as they open the driver’s side and start the engine. Rolling down the window, (Name) smiles at Booker. “Don’t worry, I can handle it.” That was the last thing Booker heard before they drove out of the garage.

The phone connected to the car starts to ring. Not bothering to look at the caller, they still gotta drive safe, they press the answer button. “New updates?” 

“Be careful. I want you alive more than you think” Andromache says before the call ends, not giving (Name) any chance to speak. This wasn’t the first mission they went on alone. What was up? Shaking it off, they focused instead on what lies ahead. The sun has just set, and night was falling upon them. Perfect.

Eyes sharp, their AK117 in hand, they enter the warehouse. How incompetent is the police, this door is waaay too easy to breakdown. Taking a deep breath, they knock the door down with a strong, hard kick. Bullets were flying, their knife, hitting another man’s chest. The screams of the girls adding to the noise pollution. Everything was going well until (Name) decided that the girls needed cover, pushing a table over they lead them to hide behind it. What they didn’t notice, was a man getting up and grabbing them from behind, locking their arms. Before they got to break free, another man got a hold of their knife, and without hesitating, plunges it into her side. Crying out in pain, and finally being able to break free, they tackle the man and stab him in the head. His blood, splashing on their face. Another pain ran through their body, and they realized that they’ve been shot. Having enough, they throw the knife, hitting the right spots, killing them instantly. 

Silence followed. It was creepy, and at the same time comforting. Taking a step towards the girls, pain shot through their side. The stab wound didn’t stop bleeding. Their brows furrowed. Inspecting the gunshot wound, they see that it’s not clotting. Imposible. Brushing it off, maybe they weren’t healing as fast. Quickly gathering the girls and taking them to the car infront, they leave safely. As promised. 

Getting into their own car as well, the pain becomes unbearable. This is impossible. “I’ve got to get back to Copley” they mutter thinking quickly. Driving was difficult, and their vision was starting to blur. The pin was agonizing. The car seats were covered in red, as well as every possible thing that could be used to cover their wounds. Perhaps they didn’t realize it, but there were cuts littered all over, their body, and the gun shot wound giving her a difficult time breathing. Damn those guards really got me. Was their last thought. Before they passed out, Andy’s blurred figure came into view. “Hey, I made it”

As soon as they all heard their car stop outside, they jumped to their feet to greet them. The team speechless at the sight before them. Andy was the first to reach them, just as they were about to pass out. “They’re not healing” Booker states. “They’ve lost too much blood.” Nile adds seeing the fatal wounds on their body.

Copley didn’t know how to tell the team. He himself was devastated. So, when he looked up from the mini recovery room in the safehouse, they all knew. Some went into shock, like Quyhn and Nile. This was Nile’s first tie losing someone who’s become like family to her since she joined...she didn’t know how to take it. She was devastated and angry and sad. She should have gone with them. 

Nicky had his head in his hands, in denial about the news, Joe trying to reach him, trying to be strong for his significant other, but deep inside, he was crushed. They’ve lost a best friend. 

Booker lost a drinking buddy, a laughing partner. They’re memories played in his head, and as the news sunk in, he collapsed into a nearby chair. 

Tears fell from Andy’s eyes, her body frozen “I never got to tell them how much they actually mean to me...how much I wanted them back.”

#the old guard #the old guard 2020 #netflix #andy #quyhn #nicky and joe #booker #nile freeman #andromache the scythian #sebastian le livre #nicolo di genova #yusuf al kaysani #imagines #theoldguardimagines #reader #writer #pisceserenawrites

[scimitar-and-longsword]

The Old Guard DND au? Booker is the only human.

Ok. First I love that you’ve done this lol!! I dont have all your asks here, but I still mention a few below Lets break this down in order of age:

Andy: Monk???? I think. Maybe Way of the Long Death? But that’s just because I think it’s ominous and a little sad lol Plus in her many lifetimes I’m sure she has had legends told about her were the people telling them personified her as death soooo I just think it’s neat.

Quynh: Ok, you suggested Ranger which I think could work... but hear me out: Warlock pact with The Lurker in the Deep (which is  technically UA content, but it just works SO WELL!) of course if we’re going with released content I could see Pact with The Undying working too for obvious reasons. Oh and Pact of the Tome, I think. I just really want her to have cool water powers. BUT ALSO her taking a pact to escape her prison is *chefs kiss* Warlock backstory! 

Joe: Bard seems too easy.... and also I don’t think it QUITE fits.... maybe he takes a Magic initiate feat so he can have a bardic spell or two, as a treat. I like what you said in one of your other asks about Swashbuckler Rogue, if only because I think a scimitar is a finesse weapon and that’s bread and butter for a swashbuckler. Plus that jump down from the roof to take out two guards with his blade move in the opening sequence: Classic Sneak attack damage! 

Nicky: I really think Path of Devotion Paladin fits well enough for Nicky that he wouldn’t need to switch. Especially if we’re just going off what they are in the movie itself. Path of Redemption for his backstory? But like I don’t think that’s really SO important now. Like he would still feel guilt but I don’t think it’s the most important part of him anymore. And my guy is LOYAL af so I’m down for this. 

Booker: Fighter. For sure, I think you’re right on the money Nony! Probably Battle Master subclass?? cause that is all about bending the battlefield to you will, and Booker’s scrappy! Fighting style “whatever works” indeed. He totally has a forgers kit

Nile: Ranger??? I just really dig seeing Nile as this like master of weapons and having the ability to handle both a bow and swords is key. And her time in the military lends itself well to all the ranger skills??? Subclass.... Horizon Stalker?? Just cause she makes her way through the lab and her opening scene so well, like she’s good at clearing a room and moving stealthy?? idk she’s the hardest for me cause I can’t think of how to translate her very modern skill set into DND

Obviously this is just what I came up with, anybody have any thoughts??

#gonna tag this and any other asks with #tog:dnd #just in case you'd like to mute #the old guard #dnd #lolo rambles #ask #Anonymous

[randomingoftherandomness]

So I just realized we share another fandom!! Anyway, I have a rather angsts Booker prompt that I think only you can do justice and it’s long, so I’m so sorry: (1) so the team are still on the splits, maybe a couple years into Booker’s exile, and Nike asks Copley to keep an eye on Booker. Being ex-CIA, he has a camera out in Booker’s apartment but Booker only glances at it, salutes with his bottle, proceeds to get drunk. Then he lays out an envelope then spends the night in the bathroom.

Hello! First up, are you OK? 👀 Coz like. If you wanna talk it out, my messages are always open to friends, yeah?

Also, a big super thank you for the prompt and for your belief that I can do it justice. Am very touched and very grateful. Gonna keep the other parts and the fill under the cut coz there’s four parts to this prompt and I am living for the specificity 😍 Hope you like this!

Please do note that I am not of the medical profession. If you have feelings of harming yourself or of suicidal thoughts, please reach out and talk to someone. I know it gets repeated a lot, but, You are not alone. You are so loved. You are precious. And I send you nothing but love. If anyone ever needs an ear, please know that you can always drop me a line x

[[ TW: Suicide ]]

(2) This continues for a while until Copley tells Nike about it, and she mentions it and the gang watch the footage. Every night, Booker gets drunk, lays out a large envelope on the kitchen table then spends the night in the bathroom. He looks like absolute hell when he comes out every morning. After a couple watches joe suddenly starts cursing and rushes out the door, Nicky right behind him. Much travel later, they get to Booker’s apartment and Joe immediately goes to the bath.

(3) He barges in and there’s Booker in the tub, in his underwear, some kind of metal tube gauged in his arm as he bleeds out over and over every night, but the worst part is how *organized* he is: all the blood is is carefully in the tub, his clothes folded neatly, the apartment is spotless, money for a cremation and a will to have him buried at the family plot on the table and letters to be mailed to Copley to get to the others. He does this Every. Night. As Penance.

(4, long prompt is long, sorry) but the worst part is how *organized* he is: all the blood is is carefully in the tub, his clothes folded neatly, the apartment is spotless, money for a cremation and a will to have him buried at the family plot on the table and letters to be mailed to Copley to get to the others. Just, all the broken and depressed Booker and Joe still being angry as hell but mourning for his friend and what he’s going thru? Do your worst, you beautiful, wondrous person, you.

---

There was a too smooth hesitation in the way Copley asks for her attention and it immediately sparks suspicion in Nile when he casually directs her to the console on the far end of the office.

Far enough from the rest of her family that they would not be able to overhear, or at least will have to work to listen in, on whatever he was about to tell her.

She waits him out. Calmly holding her ground as he casts her a calculating gaze, unfolding the tablet and powering it on. “You know that thing you asked me to do? The one about Paris?” He looks down onto the screen before turning it to her. “I think you should see this.”

Suspicion bleeds into curiosity now because the last update Copley had given her about Booker was that the man was doing his best to drink himself to death. Was he successful? Wouldn’t his liver just heal itself if it was damaged?

The video plays without any audio. Booker crosses the screen, pausing at the kitchen sink for a moment, hands braced and head bowed like a man broken. He stays like that for a good minute before he pushes off, rummaging through the topmost drawer and pulls out an unmarked envelope. Placing it on the dining table, he picks up a fresh bottle of whiskey from its crate, looking up directly into the camera, saluting with two fingers before moving into the bathroom and closing the door.

“He has been doing this for months now and it seems like it’s something he has been doing even before we started our surveillance,” Copley says. Nile checks through the folder of recordings. “Every night it’s the same thing. He places that envelope on the table and goes into the bathroom until morning comes. He comes out, gets drunk and repeats. I’ve put in inquiries to the landlord if there are any disturbances and so far nothing. We don’t have a camera in the bathroom so we don’t know what he’s doing in there every night.”

Nile taps on a random one and watches the practised way Booker braces himself as if trying to gather courage for something big that he has to do.

“I’ll talk to the rest about it.”

She waits until they’re all settled with debriefing to broach the subject. Andy reacts with a tinge of worry in her brow that Nile has learnt to pick up on. “I’m sorry. I know you guys said he can’t contact us. But I just kept thinking about it and...”

“And you thought you wanted to check in on our brother,” Nicky finishes for her. Reaching out to pat her hand, she smiles weakly when he nods sagely. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Nile. You care.”

Andy picks up the tablet, watching the recording before passing it off to Joe. “Booker’s been doing this for months?”

“Longer, if Copley’s right about it.”

“Shit!” Joe curses in a rapid stream of languages that Nile could barely keep up with. Nicky, however, can.

“Are you sure?” He stands, the chair scraping on the floor as it is pushed back, eyes gone a pale steely grey. “Yusuf-”

“I’m sure,” Joe says, meeting their eyes in turn. “I hope I’m wrong.”

“What? What are you hoping to be wrong about?” Nile asks, dread slowly creeping up her spine. Andy stands too still next to her when Joe’s eyes flicker back onto where the video footage of Booker is saluting the camera.

“I hope I’m wrong,” Joe says slowly. “But I think he’s dying every night in his bathroom.”

They catch the next flight out to Charles de Gaulle, wasting no time in between the horrible realisation and packing up their most bare essentials. Copley seems to know their intentions because he arranges for a car to be ready for them with preprogrammed directions to Booker’s flat. The drive into Paris in the summer twilight is quiet. No one daring to speak more than the necessary need to point out exits, turnings and road signs.

God, she prays they’re all wrong. Nile keeps praying even as they steal past the front door under the shadows of night. Keeps on clinging to that hope of divine intervention even when they prepare to pick the lock of Booker’s flat, only to find it open.

Andy leads them in, cutting through the space with strong strides until she pushes through into the bathroom and something stops her in her tracks.

Joe and Nicky sweep past her, causing her to stumble back a little. Nile catches her, still not processing what she is seeing. Booker’s clothes were placed in a neatly folded pile on the stool by the door. The man himself is out cold. Looking for all the world to be content to spend the night naked in an unheated bathroom. A metal tube sticks out amongst the blood in the tub and it takes a second for her to realise that the tube is protruding from Booker’s limp arm.

“Oh,” She says.

Andy moves then, going to help pull Booker out of the tub and lay him out on the floor. He stirs, eyes blinking up at the ceiling before rolling back. Nicky has pulled out the tube, letting it clatter on the tiles, placing his hand over the gaping hole. “It’s not closing.”

“Find out if he has any clean towels. Something,” Joe instructs, keeping his fingers on Booker’s pulse point. Ever since Andy’s newly regained mortality, they’ve all been brushing up on the latest first aid measures to the point that Nicky has been talking about going to medical school.

Spilling back into the kitchen, she digs through the drawers for fresh tea towels when her eyes spy the unmarked envelope sitting innocently amongst the worn wood of the tabletop. Unable to resist, Nile tears it open. Instructions first greet her written in French. She has enough time to learn now that she can understand that Booker was instructing whoever found him to take the money enclosed and use it for a simple funeral and that the letters inside must be mailed to Copley. He ends it with an apology for inconveniences caused.

Inconveniences caused. As if this were a simple grievance. As if to whoever found his self-exsanguinated corpse, the trauma could be dealt with by an apology for inconveniences caused.

“He planned this,” Nile says in sick horror when she walks back into the bathroom. In the dim yellow light from the lone bulb, the blood in the tub and all over the tiles look almost black. “He has been doing this every night for God knows how long.”

Joe meets her gaze. “I had hoped I was wrong.”

They wait until the gaping hole begins to heal. All of them breathing a sigh of relief they did not know they were holding. Only then does Andy come close to cradle his head on her lap. Between the three of them, they get Booker cleaned up as best as they could, dressed and into his own bed.

“I’ll stay here with him,” Andy says, already undoing the laces of her boots. “I don’t want him to be alone.”

“We’re all staying here with him,” Nicky chimes in before she can say anything else. “We’re not going anywhere.”

The bed was far too small for three full grown men and two women to pile onto, but they make it work with Booker safely ensconced in the middle. Andy covers his right, the lovers take either side of his hips, leaving Nile to tuck herself on a shared pillow with Booker's head. There is an unspoken need to anchor themselves on their wayward brethren. Joe and Nicky murmur to each other in soft streams of reassurance, but she catches Andy's gaze and there is a deep sadness that was heavy with regret. How they all fall asleep, she does not know, but when she opens her eyes, it's in the liminal silvery-blue of night turning into day.

"It's not a century." She hears.

"I know," Andy answers in barely a whisper. "I know."

"It was meant to be penance," Booker's tired voice fills the small space between them. "I--"

"Are a coward," Joe interrupts. Nile gives up feigning sleep. Instantly moving to be at the ready if there would be an altercation. Joe's eyes are a firebrand of heated emotions. Crawling up until he cradles Booker's cheeks between his hands. "A coward and a selfish fool."

"I know," Booker whispers, breath hitching around a sob. "I know."

Joe presses their brows together, blinking rapidly at the tears that stream down his face. "But you're my brother and I love you. This is not a world I want to be in without you. Not like this."

Booker whimpers, hand not holding on to Andy's goes to touch Joe by the nape. Nile leans in then, pressing her cheek against strong arms that move to wrap her in a hug. She feels the bed move and the shifting of the air when Andy and Nicky come to join in on their embrace. There is still so much healing to be done and Booker obviously needs more than just their forgiveness now. She doesn't know how they'll come out of this or what shape their family will take. But she has faith that whatever that will be, they'll face it together.

#the old guard #the old guard fic #sebastian le livre #booker #nile freeman #andromache the scythian #joe x nicky #yusuf al kaysani #nicolo di genova #nicolò di genova #tw: suicide #immortal husbands #gab writes stuff #fluerallinmylis