#Abby attempts to analyze

[bonkhrnyjail]

sweet plum | chapter six

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pairing: pedro pascal x fem!reader (plus size)

summary: the last of us wrap party is tonight, and the tension between you and pedro can no longer be ignored…

rating: mature (will become explicit in future chapters)

warnings: alcohol consumption, mild sexual content

a/n: THANK U GUYS FOR THE LOVE ON CHAPTER FIVE omg. i’m kicking myself for not posting this fic on tumblr sooner! pls enjoy chapter six and feel free to not analyze what our lovely reader’s actions might say about me as an author or my relationship to conflict <3 love y’all.

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You’ve been avoiding Pedro like the fucking plague.

Sixty missed calls. Even twenty texts, and off the top of your head you can't remember the last time he actually texted you. The calls became less frequent as the weeks passed, but he still tries at least once every day. You silence them every time.

The day you kissed him, he tried to call you ten times in a row, unbeknownst to you. You had thrown your phone across the living room the second you made it through the door and laid completely catatonic on your bed until your roommate got home.

“Babe, you’ll never guess who I saw last night— Are you good?” she inquired nonchalantly as she entered your room to find you face down in your mound of stuffed animals.

Droplets began to prickle the corners of your eyes as you let out a muffled groan in response. Your mouth wasn’t capable of words, the fat, dry lump in your throat stubborn and unyielding, forcing you to clench your teeth around nothing. A hand landed softly on your shoulder.

“Woah, hey,” she started to rub your arm up and down as a full body sob rippled through you. "Talk to me."

You looked up at her, tears rolling fast and hot down the apples of your cheeks, and threw yourself into her chest.

“I- I- I did something st-stupid,” you managed between sobs. 

“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,” she tried to reassure you gently, smoothing down your hair. “Unless you accidentally shaved some of Pedro’s hair off or something. I’m sure he’d forgive you anyways, though.”

You tried to form words against the sobs clawing their way out of your chest.

“Bad, Abby. Like, r-really bad.”

“Well shit. What’s the damage?” she spoke somewhat brashly, which was nothing new when it came to her attempts at being gentle. “Do I have to kill somebody? ‘Cause I will, I've been playing a lot of first person shooter, I can handle it.”

Laughter overtook your cries, although whatever sounds were coming from your throat were a horrifying mixture of both. Abby chuckled at the sound. You continued like that for a while, laughing and crying and laughing again, until the tears finally stopped.

“Can you tell me what happened?” she blurted as a soberness enveloped her tone. “I’m sure I can come up with a solution. You know I’m crafty.”

“Do you know how to erase memories?” you mumbled as you sat up straight. “That’s the only solution I can think of.”

“No… but I own a bat. Blunt force trauma is a pretty surefire solution.”

“Jesus… not to Pedro.”

“Did you, like, shit yourself or something?” she blundered, immediately biting down on her lip after the words left her mouth. “Sorry, no, this is serious. Serious time.”

You let out a gargantuan sigh as you stared fervently into your lap.

“... I kissed him.”

“You WHAT?” she grabbed your shoulders and shook you aggressively. “YOU WHAT?!”

“I—”

“WHAT? HOW? WHEN?” she shrieked, piercing the hell out of your eardrums.

“I kissed him, on the lips, on the doorstep.” 

“ON THE DOORSTEP?!” she flailed her arms, slapping your shoulders in the process. “AND I MISSED IT?!”

“You’re hurting me.”

“WAS IT GOOD? IS HE A GOOD KISSER?”

“Can we use our inside voices?”

“FUCK— ok, sorry,” she mellowed, blowing air through raspberried lips. “Why are you so upset? I thought you wanted this to happen!”

“I... I did. And didn’t. It’s complicated,” you babbled through your frustration. “I just… kissed him. I didn’t think, or ask, and I can’t take it back.”

“Well, did he kiss you back?”

“Uh… I...” you muttered hesitantly. "I think so."

Abby sprung from your bed, squealing and dancing as her fists punched awkwardly into the air. The sight alone made you cackle.

“OK- so, what happened after that? Did he confess his love to you?” 

“Jesus christ… no, that’s not what happened,” you groaned. “I sorta... ran away.”

“You WHAT?!”

“Oh god, please don’t kill me,” you whined. “I didn’t know what to do, I only realized what I had done after I had done it and I fuckin' panicked. He tried to grab my hand but I ran inside as fast as I could.”

“Dude, you have got to be kidding me,” her tone went flat, eyes laced with disappointment. “Where's your phone?”

“I don’t know, I threw it across the living room when I got up here. I was kinda freaking out.”

Abby immediately jumped off of the bed and started toward the door to your room, despite your insistent pleas to leave it be. She came storming back inside moments later.

“10 missed calls. 10 MISSED CALLS,” she pointed aggressively to your lock screen displaying the missed notifications. “Look, he even texted you.”

You snatched the phone out of her hand, shoving it under your pillow. “I can’t… I can’t right now.”

“If he didn’t want this, he wouldn’t call you that many times, and he definitely wouldn't have kissed you back," she trailed off for a moment, some sort of realization sparking behind her eyes. "Wait, did he get you those flowers on the kitchen counter?”

“I- yes. Just because I helped him out today last minute.”

“No, not because you helped him out last minute. Flowers from a man mean one of three things. Number one, congrats. Number two, condolences. And number three, please have sex with me.”

“Jesus,” you giggled. “And what does it mean if he brought me a coffee too?”

“Your usual?”

“...Yes.”

“Please have sex with me and be my wife forever and ever.”

You rolled your eyes and flopped back into your pillows, covering your face with your hands and groaning. Abby sat with you for a while, but eventually gave up, knowing damn well that you're to stubborn and you'd make your own decisions regarding the whole situation. She knew she never stood a chance to change your mind anyways.

The days passed, slowly at first, but eventually you found your way back to a steady rhythm. You went to work, saw your friends, read a lot, and spent practically zero time on your phone. Impressive how avoidance managed to cure your social media addiction. 

You'd pushed it out of your head that you’d have to see Pedro in a few weeks. Then the weeks turned to a week, then to a few days, then to a day.

You woke up this morning and it all came crashing down.

The wrap party is tonight. Then the premiere tomorrow. Everyone is going. You couldn’t get away with skipping it if you tried. Bella would probably storm into your apartment and drag you out by the hair.

You haven’t even told Bella about the kiss.

You end up lying in bed for hours, watching video after video on Youtube to silence your racing thoughts. You had set an alarm on your phone earlier to remind you when to start getting ready, and it frightens the hell out of you, jolting you from a groggy haze of half-sleep. You curse under your breath and roll lazily onto your feet, your blankets crumpling to a pathetic-looking pile on the floor. 

You power up your speaker and choose some music, an upbeat and catchy playlist to try and redirect your energy. The upside in all of this is that you can get all dolled up. It gives you an excuse for extensive self-pampering and wearing outfits that mostly collect dust in your closet. 

An everything shower is an understatement of what you have planned. You have your products lined up, various scrubs, masks, body washes, etc, and a fresh razor sitting right beside them. You crank the faucet on, just a hair below the boiling point, and step into the tub.

The steam coats your lungs as you inhale deep, the sudden sensation of the water colliding with your skin sending a stark chill down your body. As you close your eyes, leaning your head back and letting your hair fall into the steady stream, your focus slips to a corner of your mind, the pesky corner that you've tried desperately to keep locked away. Because once the thoughts start, it’s damn near impossible to wrangle them back in.

The fantasy is vivid. You can almost feel Pedro’s hands in your hair, massaging shampoo slowly and intentionally from behind you. He’s close, his bare body pressed to your back, his skin hot and pulsing against yours. He leans you back to rinse the product from your hair, pressing a small kiss to your forehead as he squeezes your shoulder softly. 

“Mmmm,” he hums, trailing languid, open-mouth kisses across your cheek and down your neck. “My sweet plum.”

A faint voice in the back of your mind is shouting wildly, trying to stop the scene from playing out in your head, but it's not enough to break through the noise.

He runs his hands down the front of your body, gently tracing your curves and valleys, finger-painting your skin with adoration. Your head falls back into him as his kisses grow deeper, longer, more desperate, him hardening against you as his gentle caresses turn to needy grasps. 

“Let me… please,” you whisper into his ear, snaking your hand behind you and running your palm against the underside of his shaft. His body presses harder into yours as he lets out a soft grunt of approval directly in your ear, the vibration of it surging straight to your core.

A jolt of cold water shocks your body, tearing you from your fantasy. You come to and find yourself leaning against the wall of the shower, your ass having knocked the knob to the coldest setting. 

“Christ,” you mutter under your breath, cranking the control back to where it was and reaching for your overpriced shampoo bottle. 

You go through the motions of the rest of your shower, losing yourself in the music and singing along as you always do. Shower concerts have been your most recent replacement for the therapy that you can't quite afford.

You paint your toes, your leg hoisted up precariously on the counter and torso bent over to reach as your fuzzy robe dangles from your hips. You choose an eggplant purple, matching the accents in your dress. The press-ons that you found are a damn-near perfect match to this color, with a swirling design decorating the tips of the almond shape. 

The dress is more of a dainty feminine than you typically go for. You generally gravitate towards sultry colors and styles, but the cut of this dress instantly drew your attention. A plunging neckline with miniscule gold buttons decorating the front. Beneath the bust, a sheer panel with corset boning outlines the waist, and the remainder of the skirt flows heavily, the hem sitting perfectly at your ankles. It reminds you of a Free People style dress, but in your size. Hallelujah.

With a feel-good playlist booming through your speaker, your makeup goes on quick and easy. A thick, black wing smoked out with a deep purple and a subtle, black cherry sheer lip. Everything else you keep fairly light and natural, letting the boldness of the eye do the talking.

You pull your hair up into a bun, making sure the dress is the center of attention. You leave a few, short pieces out and curl them, creating the sense of a haphazard version of a Victorian era updo. After donning some simple gold jewelry and your Mary Janes, the outfit is complete. You throw on an oversized brown blazer just to keep you warm, but you’ll likely take it off the moment you get to the party.

Your uber arrives moments later, somehow exactly as you descend the stairs outside your building. Your driver, an older man named Mario, gets out and shakes your hand as he introduces himself and his very nice BMW named Maria.

You've never met anyone quite this aggressively Italian.

The good-natured man even asks if you'd like to pick the music for the ride. You choose something that you hope the both of you will like: ABBA.

“This was popular when I was your age!” he gushes, the gravel and rasp in his voice more audible than the actual pitch. 

“ABBA is absolutely timeless,” you chime, adding a few more songs to the queue.

You chat the whole ride there, his jovial presence somehow working away some of the knots of anxiety in your stomach. He asks all about your work, thankfully steering clear of who you work with, and even prodding you for styling tips for his “thick and unruly” curls. 

He pulls up to the entrance, stopping near a hoard of your coworkers from the crew crowded amongst the steps to the double doors. You exchange goodbyes with Mario and slide out of the car into the brisk air, your blazer draped over your shoulders and doing a very ineffective job of retaining any of your body heat. You hear a shriek of joy emerge from the blob of people in front of you, followed by your name in the same cadence. Most of the heads you can see turn to face you, arms reaching out for hugs and smiles as far as you can see. 

You’re going to make this a good night. No matter what.

.   .   .   .   .

It’s significantly warmer inside the venue, so you decided to drop your jacket at the coat check. It’s much more crowded than you expected, but then again, everyone was invited. Some of your friends from makeup even made the trip from New York to be here. Since you’ve never been to one of these before, jokes keep getting thrown around along the lines of “Baby’s first wrap party!" and you losing your wrap party virginity. The group dynamics from the days on set settle right back into a rhythm, your place as the baby of the group still yours for the taking. You don’t mind the coddling, as it seems to help keep your mind off of the inevitable. 

There’s a slurry of waiters dipping and dodging amongst clusters of bodies, hors d'oeuvres and drinks displayed gorgeously on shiny golden platters. Someone’s arm is dragging you towards the open bar across the dance floor, where a herd has already begun to form. A slew of voices and faces pass you by as you travel swiftly through the crowd, and you’re unable to make out anything distinct amongst the clamor.

Until you hear his voice.

That familiar boom of laughter, crisp and thunderous, crystal clear amongst the hundreds of noises up against it. You immediately whip your head around to locate the source, forgetting your hand is in the grips of your friend and nearly snapping her limb off in the process. She lunges forward into you, nearly knocking your hors d’oeuvres plate from your hand and garnering the attention of several people surrounding you.

You somehow stumble back to balance and a very attentive waiter quickly swipes the mostly finished plate from your hands. The swiftness of everything is making you dizzy, sounds and sights swirling in the warm glow of the gorgeous chandelier decorating the space above you. With every turn of your head, the crowd in front of you shifts to blurry outlines of colors and shapes, like ink bleeding from the hard lines where people should begin and end. 

Suddenly you feel arms wrapping around your waist and squeezing your organs to a pulp.

“Who-” you look down to see two small hands with black painted nails. “Is that my Bellie?”

A head pops into your peripheral with a wide, toothy smile. You let out a little shriek as your arms envelop them and squeeze, lifting them off the ground a bit with the sheer force of it.

“I missed you so much—'' you pause, taking in their presence once more. “Look at you! You look amazing!”

“I look amazing?” They toy gently with the skirt of your dress. “You look amazing!”

You embrace once more, the excitement of seeing them in person completely overriding your ability to control the gleeful noises escaping your body. They pull away, your hands still gripping each other’s elbows.

“Have you seen P? I know he’s already here,” they pull their phone out of their back pocket, his location pulled up on Find My Friends. 

“Oh, uh… I— I haven’t yet,” you hear your voice quickly morph into a downbeat tone against your will. 

“Uh oh,” they blurt. “Why is your face doing that? Did something happen?”

“I- uh…” you stumble over a sad attempt at words, muttering unintelligible syllables. “Well—”

Your train of thought comes to a screeching halt as he appears through a sliver in the crowd.

And, god, he looks handsome as ever. A nice, nice white suit clings ever so perfectly to his muscular, statuesque frame. The collar is folded neatly against his strong, thick neck, a few subtle veins protruding softly from his caramel skin. His dimples are on full display as he throws his head back with laughter, the little heart-shaped patch in his beard perfectly prominent. 

Bella follows your gaze until they see him. They call out his name and wave him down on their tiptoes. He immediately clocks the voice, and you watch as the small smile on his face spreads to a wide grin. He excuses himself from his current conversation and starts towards your direction.

Your stomach drops. You quickly survey around you to find that there is no clear escape, there are clusters of people surrounding you on each side and no pockets that you could gracefully slip into to weave your way through the crowd. For better or worse, you’re trapped.

He quickly scoops Bella into a bear hug, his arms enveloping their small frame in it's entirety. He spins them around, their feet dangling, hovering just above the floor. You stand there, frozen, little bunches of your dress clumped up in your tight, fidgeting fists. The fabric rolls between your thumb and forefinger, a haphazard attempt at soothing the anxiety surging through your veins.

It takes him a minute to acknowledge your presence, and with every second that passes, your urge to bolt revs in your belly.

Once his gaze meets yours, a soft, forgiving smile paints across his lips. You force the corners of your mouth upwards, attempting to create what hopefully appears like an expression of joy. Hopefully.

“Hi.”

It comes out more like a sigh when he says it, like it’s been pounding at his chest, just waiting to be released. His hand lays flat on his abdomen as he taps his pointer finger repeatedly. The muscles in his neck flex, creating movement in the collar of his shirt.

He’s nervous. You know him well enough to know that, and you know you’re likely not hiding your true state very well either. He knows you just as well.

You try to respond.  The air you've been holding prisoner in your lungs tumbles out, catching in your throat.  A feeble, "H-hi," is all you can manage.

“You look…” his eyes wander your body, your face, your hair, his lips parted ever so slightly. “You look lovely.”

The statement reverberates in your mind until you hear a distant call of your name. A quick turn of your head finds your favorite hairstylist waving you down.

“I—” you swallow and start over. “Thank you. Thanks. I—, sorry, I gotta—” you motion toward your destination with your thumb before decidedly turning and slipping through the crowd, a copious amount of polite little statements slipping off your tongue in order to get out of sight and away from him.

.   .   .   .   .

“So… what the fuck was that?” Bella states gruffly, sitting opposite of you at a small high top table, tucked away in a quieter room off of the main ballroom. “That was, like, painful.”

You let out a small groan, knowing you’d have to tell them at some point, but dissenting the fact that the time for that confession seems to be right this very second.

“I kinda… I fucked things up between us.”

“I doubt that,” they say reassuringly.

“No, seriously, I—” you stop yourself mid-sentence to catch your breath. “I kissed him, Bel.”

They let out a satisfied chuckle.

“Well thank god. It’s about goddamn time.”

“No, no you don’t understand,” you babble. “I kissed him without thinking, realized what I did, and ran.”

“Ohhhh my g—” they blow a raspberry. “Ok. Well. When was this?”

“Like… a month ago?”

“A month?!”

“I haven’t spoken to him since.”

“Jesus christ… I’m assuming he’s tried to call you, yes?”

“Pretty much every single day since it happened,” your words come out more sigh than pitch.

Bella rubs their temples, an incomprehensible expression on their face.

“Gosh, it feels like mom and dad are fighting.”

That makes you snort laugh, to your own surprise.

“Well clearly he’s not angry at you. And you can’t avoid him forever,” they reason, their bluntness somehow comforting, unraveling the little knot sitting in your gut. “I wish you two would just put all your cards on the table. Worst comes to worst, things don’t work out.”

“I just really don’t want to lose him, Bellie,” you mumble into your drink.

“You will if you don’t talk to him,” they quip right back, eyes stern and decided.

You know they’re right. As much as you don’t want to admit it, you know.

“I’ll talk to him. Tomorrow. Tonight is supposed to be fun.”

“Fair enough. Now, come dance with me.” they hop to their feet and extend a hand.

You take it with a smile, and within a mere second they’re whisking you towards the dance floor.

.   .   .   .   .

You’ve had 3 drinks. Three strong drinks. On a stomach with only a few bite sized hors d'oeuvres to soak up the copious amount of gin in your system. 

And it’s helping, sure. Helping you forget momentarily that Pedro is probably within 100 feet of you at any given moment. Helping your breath move in and out the way it’s supposed to, without catching on threads of worry webbed inside your lungs. Helping to loosen the knots that riddled your body when you got here.

But it’s also making you dizzy. 

Dizzy enough that you’re not quite sure when you end and others begin. It’s all lights and laughter and limbs, filling your senses to the brim. The corners of your vision have a little haze to them, a haze that’s starting to grow inward.

You stumble your way out of the hoard, searching for the nearest corner to tuck yourself away in for a moment. A friend hollers after you, asking if you’re alright.

“I’m good! Just got the spins,” you reassure her. “I’ll be back.”

A little awning reveals itself to you in a narrow sightline through the crowd. You follow the slender gap without a second thought. Once you reach the end, you find a dimly lit hallway with an emergency exit sign illuminating a sturdy black door. You steady yourself on a railing and lean your weight into the wall, your head bowed slightly and shoulders rounded.

The pattern on the carpet sways in your vision as you let yourself hang for a moment, releasing tension from your upper body and pushing your feet firmly into the floor as some attempt at grounding. After a moment, you decide to take your shoes off in hopes it will inspire your body to feel more “at one with gravity”.

The sound of booming bass still accosts your ears, but more muffled now, and the sound waves flow through you, perfectly in time with the beating of your heart. It isn’t until your name is spoken the third time that you really hear it.

Your eyes shoot up to find Pedro, a worried, scrunched brow on his face and a bottle of water in his hand. 

“Oh- um…” you stammer. You continue to fight for the right words, any words, until he cuts you off.

“Drink this,” he twists the cap and gently places the bottle into your right hand. “I haven’t seen you take a sip of water the entire night. No wonder you’re dizzy.”

A moment of confusion clouds you, but you quickly remember that you shouted over the blaring music for all to hear of your current state. Your voice can be quite head-turning with a lack of inhibition. You obey his word and take a swig from the bottle, the crisp, cold water relentless against your sensitive teeth. The temperature is a visceral opposite to the flush of your face, causing you to furrow your brow slightly as it travels down your esophagus. 

He lets out a chuckle as he scans your expression.

“Cold?”

You produce an affirmative grumble and try to pass the bottle to him, but he gently pushes it back towards your chest. 

“Have some more.”

Your eyes flutter under the softness of his gaze. You try to gulp down the dry seed in you throat.

“Pedro, I—”

“We don’t have to talk about it right now.”

“Bella told me I have to talk to you,” you admit, your chin tucked and stare driving into the carpet, whispering in a way that sounded more like you were reminding yourself than telling him.

It makes him laugh, releasing that sweet, boisterous sound and it's accompanying smile you missed so dearly.

“Taking orders from Bellie now, eh?”

“They can be a bit militant when push comes to shove, to be honest,” a puff of air passes through your nose as a smirk tugs at your lips, your eyes glued to the floor. "'Specially if I'm being an idiot."

You take a few more sips of water and Pedro shifts to stand beside you, kicking his foot up with his back flat against the wall. Neither of you speak, only the sounds of your breath filling the space between you. 

You both inhale at the same time, as though you are both about to speak. 

“F—sorry, y-you go,” you gulp, though your mouth is bone dry.

He lets his exhale escape through puckered lips, and you watch as his hiked up chest deflates. His hand sits flat against the first button of his suit jacket as he thumbs at the lapel.

“I’ve spent the past month in agony, you know.”

You gaze up at his face, his eyes fixed on the glint in his freshly-shined shoes. He rolls his bottom lip through his teeth nervously, the hue of the skin shifting from an off-white to a bitten pink as it’s released from the grip.

“Missing you…” he spoke softly. “Wanting to talk to you…”

Guilt spreads like a wildfire, scalding your throat.

“Pedro, I— I am so s—”

“Wanting nothing more than to kiss you again.”

The words kick the air from your lungs, your lips parting to make way as the muscles in your jaw give out entirely. He turns to face your visage, and you find his painted with an expression of pure yearning. His eyes have a sparkle to them, but not of joy. It’s more like a heat, a burning that seems almost painful to endure. The thick, inescapable tension wraps itself hermetically around your neck.

“I— You didn’t even give me a chance to kiss you back.”

Before you can even process the words, the clinking of glasses sounds in the distance. Through the muffled shouting you hear a strained attempt at organizing a drunken group photo.

“We should probably…” you floppily gesture towards the ballroom, the alcohol seemingly turning your bones a bit soft and pliable. “Can we talk about this after the party? I'd like to be a little more sober if I can help it.”

“Right, uh—” he adjusts his tie slightly, insecurely clearing his throat. “After the party. I can do that.”

“I promise,” you assure, though you’re acutely aware that he has very little reason to trust you, considering you avoided him for almost a month straight. You reach for his hand, the one that’s still fidgeting with his jacket, hopeful your touch will convey your sincerity in a way that your words can’t.

He smiles, somewhat forcibly. and offers his arm.

“Shall we?”

You make your way back to the crowd, observing with a small chuckle as a few people with phones in hand attempt to herd people left and right, trying to create some semblance of a formation. The two of you slip into the hoard easily, gliding right into a perfect little cranny to the left of the pointed cameras.

Pedro slides his arm around your waist as you pose, and you’re certain he can feel your raging pulse thumping through every vessel beneath your skin.

“Ok, now a funny one!” says one of the photographers.

You turn to each other, smiling and searching for an idea. Drunken and foolish, you take his arm and pretend to bite it. 

He lets out a hearty laugh before leaning into the “scene”, his face mocking an expression of terror. You have to stifle your giggles with an open mouth, which results in a strange, almost strangled sound escaping you. It only encourages his laughter, which encourages yours, and droplets form at the crest of your eyes as you wait for the signal to drop the pose.

“Got it!” someone blurts across the ballroom.

“Sorry about that,” you guide his arm back to his side, giving it a gentle pat into place. “These hors d'oeuvres just made me hungrier.”

You laugh at your own joke, snorting on the inhale, and you look up to see his smile, wide and gleaming, the bounciest part of his cheeks sporting a salmon-pink hue. 

A distant voice calls for Pedro, hollering something about an actors-only picture, and he turns his head to find the source. You grab his hand before he starts towards them.

“Call me, ok? After the party,” you gently squeeze at his wrist. “I promise I’ll answer this time.”

He nods, his sickly sweet smile punctuated with picture-perfect dimples. He turns his back to you and weaves his way through the crowd. 

.   .   .   .   .

You finally made your way out of the coat check line after a grueling twenty minutes of needing to pee but not wanting to give up your spot in line. You’re standing outside the entrance now, the brisk air nipping at your bare ankles. You idly pull out your phone to find two text notifications from Pedro.

The first is an address, with a unit number. Los Angeles. You recognize the street name.

The second message reads:

I just got home. Buzz me when u get here. :) 

You almost start to skim through the unread messages he’d sent you since that night, but you’re quickly derailed by another buzz.

Pedro Pascal sent you $100. Description: for your ride.

You laugh out loud, amused by his overestimation of the price, but nevertheless stunned by his unfailing thoughtfulness. You start towards the stairs, your nerves burning and buzzing, entirely uncertain and out of control of what the evening holds.

. . . . .

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #plus size reader #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #the last of us #pedrohub

[fireflysummers]

Heroes, Gods, and the Invisible Narrator

Slay the Princess as a Framework for the Cyclical Reproduction of Colonialist Narratives in Data Science & Technology

An Essay by FireflySummers

All images are captioned.

Content Warnings: Body Horror, Discussion of Racism and Colonialism

Spoilers for Slay the Princess (2023) by @abby-howard and Black Tabby Games.

If you enjoy this article, consider reading my guide to arguing against the use of AI image generators or the academic article it's based on.

Introduction: The Hero and the Princess

You're on a path in the woods, and at the end of that path is a cabin. And in the basement of that cabin is a Princess. You're here to slay her. If you don't, it will be the end of the world.

Slay the Princess is a 2023 indie horror game by Abby Howard and published through Black Tabby Games, with voice talent by Jonathan Sims (yes, that one) and Nichole Goodnight.

The game starts with you dropped without context in the middle of the woods. But that’s alright. The Narrator is here to guide you. You are the hero, you have your weapon, and you have a monster to slay.

From there, it's the player's choice exactly how to proceed--whether that be listening to the voice of the narrator, or attempting to subvert him. You can kill her as instructed, or sit and chat, or even free her from her chains.

It doesn't matter.

Regardless of whether you are successful in your goal, you will inevitably (and often quite violently) die.

And then...

You are once again on a path in the woods.

The cycle repeats itself, the narrator seemingly none the wiser. But the woods are different, and so is the cabin. You're different, and worse... so is she.

Based on your actions in the previous loop, the princess has... changed. Distorted.

Had you attempted a daring rescue, she is now a damsel--sweet and submissive and already fallen in love with you.

Had you previously betrayed her, she has warped into something malicious and sinister, ready to repay your kindness in full.

But once again, it doesn't matter.

Because the no matter what you choose, no matter how the world around you contorts under the weight of repeated loops, it will always be you and the princess.

Why? Because that’s how the story goes.

So says the narrator.

So now that we've got that out of the way, let's talk about data.

Chapter I: Echoes and Shattered Mirrors

The problem with "data" is that we don't really think too much about it anymore. Or, at least, we think about it in the same abstract way we think about "a billion people." It's gotten so big, so seemingly impersonal that it's easy to forget that contemporary concept of "data" in the west is a phenomenon only a couple centuries old [1].

This modern conception of the word describes the ways that we translate the world into words and numbers that can then be categorized and analyzed. As such, data has a lot of practical uses, whether that be putting a rover on mars or tracking the outbreak of a viral contagion. However, this functionality makes it all too easy to overlook the fact that data itself is not neutral. It is gathered by people, sorted into categories designed by people, and interpreted by people. At every step, there are people involved, such that contemporary technology is embedded with systemic injustices, and not always by accident.

The reproduction of systems of oppression are most obvious from the margins. In his 2019 article As If, Ramon Amaro describes the Aspire Mirror (2016): a speculative design project by by Joy Buolamwini that contended with the fact that the standard facial recognition algorithm library had been trained almost exclusively on white faces. The simplest solution was to artificially lighten darker skin-tones for the algorithm to recognize, which Amaro uses to illustrate the way that technology is developed with an assumption of whiteness [2].

This observation applies across other intersections as well, such as trans identity [3], which has been colloquially dubbed "The Misgendering Machine" [4] for its insistence on classifying people into a strict gender binary based only on physical appearance.

This has also popped up in my own research, brought to my attention by the artist @b4kuch1n who has spoken at length with me about the connection between their Vietnamese heritage and the clothing they design in their illustrative work [5]. They call out AI image generators for reinforcing colonialism by stripping art with significant personal and cultural meaning of their context and history, using them to produce a poor facsimile to sell to the highest bidder.

All this describes an iterative cycle which defines normalcy through a white, western lens, with a limited range of acceptable diversity. Within this cycle, AI feeds on data gathered under colonialist ideology, then producing an artifact that reinforces existing systemic bias. When this data is, in turn, once again fed to the machine, that bias becomes all the more severe, and the range of acceptability narrower [2, 6].

Luciana Parisi and Denise Ferreira da Silva touch on a similar point in their article Black Feminist Tools, Critique, and Techno-poethics but on a much broader scale. They call up the Greek myth of Prometheus, who was punished by the gods for his hubris for stealing fire to give to humanity. Parisi and Ferreira da Silva point to how this, and other parts of the “Western Cosmology” map to humanity’s relationship with technology [7].

However, while this story seems to celebrate the technological advancement of humanity, there are darker colonialist undertones. It frames the world in terms of the gods and man, the oppressor and the oppressed; but it provides no other way of being. So instead the story repeats itself, with so-called progress an inextricable part of these two classes of being. This doesn’t bode well for visions of the future, then–because surely, eventually, the oppressed will one day be the machines [7, 8].

It’s… depressing. But it’s only really true, if you assume that that’s the only way the story could go.

“Stories don't care who takes part in them. All that matters is that the story gets told, that the story repeats. Or, if you prefer to think of it like this: stories are a parasitical life form, warping lives in the service only of the story itself.” ― Terry Pratchett, Witches Abroad

Chapter II: The Invisible Narrator

So why does the narrator get to call the shots on how a story might go? Who even are they? What do they want? How much power do they actually have?

With the exception of first person writing, a lot of the time the narrator is invisible. This is different from an unreliable narrator. With an unreliable narrator, at some point the audience becomes aware of their presence in order for the story to function as intended. An invisible narrator is never meant to be seen.

In Slay the Princess, the narrator would very much like to be invisible. Instead, he has been dragged out into the light, because you (and the inner voices you pick up along the way), are starting to argue with him. And he doesn’t like it.

Despite his claims that the princess will lie and cheat in order to escape, as the game progresses it’s clear that the narrator is every bit as manipulative–if not moreso, because he actually knows what’s going on. And, if the player tries to diverge from the path that he’s set before them, the correct path, then it rapidly becomes clear that he, at least to start, has the power to force that correct path.

While this is very much a narrative device, the act of calling attention to the narrator is important beyond that context. 

The Hero’s Journey is the true monomyth, something to which all stories can be reduced. It doesn’t matter that the author, Joseph Campbell, was a raging misogynist whose framework flattened cultures and stories to fit a western lens [9, 10]. It was used in Star Wars, so clearly it’s a universal framework.

The metaverse will soon replace the real world and crypto is the future of currency! Never mind that the organizations pushing it are suspiciously pyramid shaped. Get on board or be left behind.

Generative AI is pushed as the next big thing. The harms it inflicts on creatives and the harmful stereotypes it perpetuates are just bugs in the system. Never mind that the evangelists for this technology speak over the concerns of marginalized people [5]. That’s a skill issue, you gotta keep up.

Computers will eventually, likely soon, advance so far as to replace humans altogether. The robot uprising is on the horizon [8]. 

Who perpetuates these stories? What do they have to gain?

Why is the only story for the future replications of unjust systems of power? Why must the hero always slay the monster?

Because so says the narrator. And so long as they are invisible, it is simple to assume that this is simply the way things are.

Chapter III: The End...?

This is the part where Slay the Princess starts feeling like a stretch, but I’ve already killed the horse so I might as well beat it until the end too.

Because what is the end result here?

According to the game… collapse. A recursive story whose biases narrow the scope of each iteration ultimately collapses in on itself. The princess becomes so sharp that she is nothing but blades to eviscerate you. The princess becomes so perfect a damsel that she is a caricature of the trope. The story whittles itself away to nothing. And then the cycle begins anew.

There’s no climactic final battle with the narrator. He created this box, set things in motion, but he is beyond the player’s reach to confront directly. The only way out is to become aware of the box itself, and the agenda of the narrator. It requires acknowledgement of the artificiality of the roles thrust upon you and the Princess, the false dichotomy of hero or villain.

Slay the Princess doesn’t actually provide an answer to what lies outside of the box, merely acknowledges it as a limit that can be overcome. 

With regards to the less fanciful narratives that comprise our day-to-day lives, it’s difficult to see the boxes and dichotomies we’ve been forced into, let alone what might be beyond them. But if the limit placed is that there are no stories that can exist outside of capitalism, outside of colonialism, outside of rigid hierarchies and oppressive structures, then that limit can be broken [12].

Denouement: Doomed by the Narrative

Video games are an interesting artistic medium, due to their inherent interactivity. The commonly accepted mechanics of the medium, such as flavor text that provides in-game information and commentary, are an excellent example of an invisible narrator. Branching dialogue trees and multiple endings can help obscure this further, giving the player a sense of genuine agency… which provides an interesting opportunity to drag an invisible narrator into the light.

There are a number of games that have explored the power differential between the narrator and the player (The Stanley Parable, Little Misfortune, Undertale, Buddy.io, OneShot, etc…)

However, Slay the Princess works well here because it not only emphasizes the artificial limitations that the narrator sets on a story, but the way that these stories recursively loop in on themselves, reinforcing the fears and biases of previous iterations. 

Critical data theory probably had nothing to do with the game’s development (Abby Howard if you're reading this, lmk). However, it works as a surprisingly cohesive framework for illustrating the ways that we can become ensnared by a narrative, and the importance of knowing who, exactly, is narrating the story. Although it is difficult or impossible to conceptualize what might exist beyond the artificial limits placed by even a well-intentioned narrator, calling attention to them and the box they’ve constructed is the first step in breaking out of this cycle.

“You can't go around building a better world for people. Only people can build a better world for people. Otherwise it's just a cage.” ― Terry Pratchett, Witches Abroad

Epilogue

If you've read this far, thank you for your time! This was an adaptation of my final presentation for a Critical Data Studies course. Truthfully, this course posed quite a challenge--I found the readings of philosophers such as Kant, Adorno, Foucault, etc... difficult to parse. More contemporary scholars were significantly more accessible. My only hope is that I haven't gravely misinterpreted the scholars and researchers whose work inspired this piece.

I honestly feel like this might have worked best as a video essay, but I don't know how to do those, and don't have the time to learn or the money to outsource.

Slay the Princess is available for purchase now on Steam.

Screencaps from ManBadassHero Let's Plays: [Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6]

Post Dividers by @cafekitsune

Citations:

Rosenberg, D. (2018). Data as word. Historical Studies in the Natural Sciences, 48(5), 557-567.

Amaro, Ramon. (2019). As If. e-flux Architecture. Becoming Digital. https://www.e-flux.com/architecture/becoming-digital/248073/as-if/

What Ethical AI Really Means by PhilosophyTube

Keyes, O. (2018). The misgendering machines: Trans/HCI implications of automatic gender recognition. Proceedings of the ACM on human-computer interaction, 2(CSCW), 1-22.

Allred, A.M., Aragon, C. (2023). Art in the Machine: Value Misalignment and AI “Art”. In: Luo, Y. (eds) Cooperative Design, Visualization, and Engineering. CDVE 2023. Lecture Notes in Computer Science, vol 14166. Springer, Cham. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-43815-8_4

Amaro, R. (2019). Artificial Intelligence: warped, colorful forms and their unclear geometries.

Parisisi, L., Ferreira da Silva, D. Black Feminist Tools, Critique, and Techno-poethics. e-flux. Issue #123. https://www.e-flux.com/journal/123/436929/black-feminist-tools-critique-and-techno-poethics/

AI - Our Shiny New Robot King | Sophie from Mars by Sophie From Mars

Joseph Campbell and the Myth of the Monomyth | Part 1 by Maggie Mae Fish

Joseph Campbell and the N@zis | Part 2 by Maggie Mae Fish

How Barbie Cis-ified the Matrix by Jessie Gender

#slay the princess #stp spoilers #stp #stp princess #abby howard #black tabby games #academics #critical data studies #computer science #technology #hci #my academics #my writing #long post

[csprslvt]

teachers aide pt 2.

Chapter 2

Summary: a peaceful class is ruined

Warnings: mentions of drug use, owen is the worst, foul language

It was almost every day now, that you snuck into Ellie’s dorm smoking your worries away. You never seem to get tired of her chill attitude and calming words when you vented about certain little things that bothered you, and she could never grow tired of you. She thought your complaints were humorous, she laughed and smiled at you adoringly. At this point she wasn't hiding her not so little crush at all, but there was a simple boundary of “Don't ask, don't tell” between the two of you. And so, she was yet to confess. Though she wanted to make her feelings known she felt like it was unrequited, and for certain couldn't handle the heartbreak, especially when she saw you for class almost every day. It would be incredibly awkward to confess, be rejected and then see you as her teacher's aide.

So, she would gladly take whatever she could get, and if that meant being your dealer and totally platonic cuddle buddy, she was okay with it. For now, it was enough.

Abby on the other hand, preened for your attention. She became more vocal in class, gentler, kind, she seemed to think she had made you uncomfortable in the past, so she completely kept her remarks under control. She was a little jealous of Ellie, the two of you seemed so close, your conversations were less stiff and to the trained eye, almost familiar. Still, you had an image to keep up, being 22, almost graduating and trying to be taken seriously in a class full of 19–21-year-olds you wanted to make a good impression for your future.

Today in physics, you had a lab, cosmic shower array reconstruction. You were leading the lesson, talking adamantly to the class.

“Okay, the high energy protons and atomic nuclei that move through space with light and speed are called…?”

“Cosmic rays!” the class filled in.

“Correct, today we will be attempting a cosmic ray shower array reconstruction. Now everyone should have their computers ready to go and a notebook. Is anyone missing either of those things?”

Silence.

“Great! Please open the web browser written on the board. After that we will be creating a map grid to represent the site being hit by cosmic rays. If you do not know how to do this, just yell and I’ll come to you.”

No one said a word except for Ellie.

“Y/n, help.” she said with a lazy smile gracing her features. You caught Abby’s eyes on you as you approached Ellie.

“Ellie, you know how to do this.”

“I know how to do it…when I'm sober.” She whispered. You looked around before responding, “If I have to come to class sober, so do you.”

Ellie giggled,” You gonna help me or not?”

Once talking a very high Ellie through creating a map grid, you returned to the front of the lab.

“Anyone else?”

Silence once again.

“Perfect! Now as you can see, the areas hit by cosmic rays are shown by color circles. Is everyone on the same page?”

There were a variety of nods and murmurs in agreement, you smiled, class was going suspiciously smooth so far.

“Now all we have to do is create a graph of the time map versus intensity, after that analyze the data. I will give you all some time to do so, again if you have any questions at all please do not hesitate to ask. I'm here to help!” You smiled reassuringly at no one in particular, you heard a few yes ma'ams and okays in the audience. Owen had not bothered you yet today, so you considered the lab successful so far. After a while you could tell the class was waiting for more instruction with an uprise of off topic conversations.

“Seems like we are all set with that step, agreed?”

No one said otherwise so you continued, Ellie actually seemed very interested in the cosmic rays and was playing around with the placement sites.

“Since we are all familiar with REXTOR software, you'll use that to reconstruct the rays. After that, create a lateral distribution function plot. Examples of which are on the board as are the instructions so you can all take it at your own pace. Lastly, record your observations and we are all set!”

The class seemed happy with the lighter workload, you assigned smaller, more personal lessons than the Professor. It's probably why they listened so well to you. You walked around the lab, helping students who called for you with great patience and smiles. Days like these reminded you of why you loved your job. Everything was going so perfect, too perfect. That was until Owen opened his stupid mouth.

“Abby it's really not that serious, ask her out.” He was supposed to be whispering but he was loud enough to get other students' attention, Abby turned to him and flushed.

“Owen, shut the fuck up!”

“C’mon Abs just do it, or I’ll call her over.”

“Oh my god Owen I swear to god I will fucking beat you ass if you do.”

Mel was in between the two, holding in laughter, you pretended to not hear them.

“I'm doing you a favor… y/n! Over here!”

God fucking damn it Owen.

“Owen shut up oh my god!” Abby immediately faced the other direction, clicking random buttons on her computer as if she was focused.

“Y/n!” Owen spoke loudly, multiple people turned to face you, you internally groaned and walked over to him. You couldn't ignore him now.

“Is something the matter?” You spoke softly, using fake interest.

“Abby has to ask you a question.”

“Oh my god.” Abby mumbled, face totally and utterly red.

You turned to Abby, playing dumb.

“Are you having trouble with the lab?”

The caring, gentle look in your eyes caught Abby off guard. She could stare at you forever; she was completely and totally mesmerized by you.

“Uh..yea! Yea yea uhm I was wondering-”

“She was wondering if she could take you out on a date.” Owen said with a stupid smirk you wanted to slap off his face. You could feel your entire body heating up with embarrassment, Abby's pale skin turned bright peach and glared at Owen, seeming genuinely pissed off.

You took the awkward silence as a cue to walk away. Ellie gave you an amused look, and you hoped she hadn't heard the entire conversation. As well as everyone else in the entire class.

After recovering from the interaction which took about 40 entire minutes, class came to an end. Everyone logged off and Abby was giving Owen the silent treatment while Mel sat there uncomfortably in between them. Just as you were preparing to leave Abby pulled you aside. “Hi, can we talk for a second?” she was fidgeting with her hands, large muscles slightly flexing with every movement.

“Sure!” You said, trying to be welcoming. As the rest of the class cleared the lab Ellie gave you a look. She already knew you would be visiting her again later.

“I'm really sorry about Owen, he's always in people business.”

“Yea, I've noticed, I appreciate the apology.”

“What he said was entirely inappropriate and I'm, like, super pissed at him.” Abby was trying her best to seem genuine, she really did feel like Owen’s behavior was foul.

“Thanks Abby.” You didn't really know what else to say.

“But I would like to take you out, to make up for the humiliation. Just lunch or something, wherever you would like, on me.”

Your eyebrows raised in surprise, “I don't know it that is-”

“If you're questioning it being appropriate or suitable, I would argue that sneaking out of Ellie Williams’ dorm at 6 am is also inappropriate and not suitable.” Abby said jokingly, and you released a smile.

“Okay, just this once Anderson, only if you keep that…6 am exit secret.”

“You have my word.”

#ellie x reader #gaming #fem reader #the last of us 2 #ellie williams #eventual smut #angst #abby x reader #abby anderson #ellie tlou2 #fluff #dealer!ellie

[punkrockmads]

i’m a different anon but i agree with ur opinions on the show but at the same time i do think that part 2 deserves to be adapted as well. i think that it deserves to reach a wider audience of people than just the gaming community. they are so extremely divided about the game (i think it’s amazing), and it’s sad that it got so much vitriol for it’s message and it’s character studies.

i think that by adapting it more people will appreciate abby, find joy in ellie being a proud open lesbian, and spend more time analyzing their characters and motivations.

This is a really good take!! I love that it's going to reach more people!! While unnecessary, it is really awesome to see how many more people will be connected by the show. As long as they do it right (I'm sure they won't disappoint) including attempting to keep Abby's figure I don't really mind. Then again, I most likely won't watch the show since I'm content with the connection I have with the games and don't really feel the same connection with the show. Thank you for your take on this!! It's really good to consider!!💗💗

#my rambles #the last of us #the last of us 2 #tlou2 #tlou #abby anderson #abby tlou

[rora-s]

The Derivative Chapter 17: Kids Stuff

Chapter 1 <- Chapter 16

Don knew he was handling things differently. Every case that involved kids was bad however, he could feel them hitting him a little deeper now. Lucinda Shay was a single mother just like Janice had been and when he saw her son at the crime scene all he could think of was what Abby must have gone through when she was alone after her mom died. 

Despite this he had to stay focused on the case, keep his emotions in check, that was the only way they were going to catch the killer and get justice for Lucinda and Daniel. He entered the office and spotted Charlie standing out like a curly headed traffic cone dressed in orange with David and Colby who were gray and white suits. 

Don quickly made it over to his brother “hey, thanks for coming” he gave Charlie a pat on the shoulder. 

“No problem” 

“Hey did the kid see anything?” David asked, gesturing toward where Megan was sitting with Daniel playing cards. 

“Well, if he did, he’s not saying anything.” Don replied. 

“I didn’t know Lucinda Shay had a kid” Charlie voiced. 

“Yeah little boy named Daniel,” Don explained, pointing to show Charlie, who looked back letting sadness drift into his eyes. “What? You knew her?” 

“I met her a few times.” Charlie explained “when the scandal first broke at the SEC, I was asked to examine the accounting related to Syntel’s offshore partnerships. She was very helpful” 

“Yeah” Colby murmured “well sweetheart plea bargain will do that for you” 

“You know I don’t think she knew what Syntel was doing at first but once she figured it out, she blew the whistle” Charlie informed “Was her son there when…?” 

“Yeah” Don murmured, cutting Charlie’s question off. 

“What can I do?” Charlie asked. 

“Well, we’re putting together a list of former employees and shareholders” Don explained “maybe you could narrow it down?” 

“I’ve already analyzed the company’s SEC filings. It’s a pretty good picture of who made money, who lost money.” Charlie explained. 

“All right, well, whatever you can do, we’d appreciate it,” Don said gratefully. 

“You got it,” Charlie agreed. 

“Thanks” Don murmured, patting his brother on the shoulder again as he headed over to where Megan was sitting with the boy. 

“What’s going to happen to her son?” Charlie questioned. 

“We don’t know” David admitted “she’s a single-parent mom. I’m trying to run down the father, any other relative, but, uh, so far no luck.” 

“You know after Abby’s mother died they were able to find Don” Charlie offered “I mean it took a couple months but, you could find someone for this boy” 

“We’ll be trying Charlie,” David reassured the mathematician. 

Meanwhile Don was knocking at the door of the sitting room Megan and Daniel were in. His partner looked up and he gestured for her to come and talk. She told Daniel she’d be right back before getting up and meeting Don outside of the room and earshot of the boy. 

“How’s he doing?” Don asked. 

Megan cleared her throat glancing back at the boy before turning to Don “there’s some blunt effect in response to the trauma.” she explained. 

“What’s that, like some kind of post traumatic shock kind of thing?” the man inquired. 

“A little” Megan informed “this is more immediate and hopefully it’s temporary. But he’s like an overloaded circuit. He’s just shut down right now.” 

“I’m going to need him to talk to us,” Don murmured ruefully. 

“I know that,” the woman reassured, glancing back at the boy “but he’s too fragile right now.” 

Don shrugged “I know, but if he knows who shot his mother-” 

“It’s exactly the problem” Megan clarified “he probably did, and he’s a little boy and he’s terrified. And if we push him too far now, we may never get what we need” 

“All right, all right” Don agreed, walking past Megan into the room and taking the seat across from the boy “hey Daniel” he greeted attempting to shake the twisting feeling in his gut and the thought of Abby. “I’m Don Eppes. Remember? From before?” he paused and when the boy gave no indication of response he sighed “Look, I’m sorry about what happened to your mom, but-” he hesitated as Daniel shifted and grimaced slightly “I know how rough this must be for you, what- what you must be thinking.” He took a breath and glanced back out at the bullpen, the thought of a young, alone Abby still pulling at the back of his brain thoughts of his own mother as well “Actually, you know, to be honest, I don’t know what you’re thinking. But I do know something about what you’re feeling.” he admitted “You know, not too long ago my mom died.” Daniel looked up at that but his eyes quickly flickered back to the table “yeah she was like the one person who had the right answer for everything. You know, I mean all the time. And then all of a sudden she was gone” Don took a deep breath “Here’s what I’m hoping. That you and I maybe could partner up. Maybe help each other out.” he paused, gauging the boy carefully before continuing “I need to know if you saw anything this morning, Daniel.” 

“No,” Daniel barely whispered, shaking his head. 

“You sure?” Don pressed carefully. 

“The doorbell rang,” Daniel voiced. 

“Mm-hmm and your mom answered it?” The agent inquired. Daniel nodded “did you hear any voices?” 

Daniel shook his head “just the gun” 

“What about after?” Don asked “Did you see anything, hear anyone?” Daniel shook his head looking down at the table again curling into himself. “All right, okay.” Don backed off “Hey, that’s a good start. Good job” 

“I want…” Daniel spoke up voice choked with emotion “I want her to come back” 

“Yeah” Don sighed, biting his lip “I know you do. Me, too.” 

As Don got up to leave gesturing for Megan to take his place sitting with the boy he wandered into the breakroom. He let off a large breath and reached for his phone on his belt. He wanted to call Abby and just hear her voice for whatever reason but a quick glance at his watch told him she’d be in class and unable to take his call. So he took another deep breath and replaced his phone on his belt before making for the coffee. 

___________________

Abby POV. 

I walked out of class with an annoyed groan. “Oh dear did Prof. Lisben assign another tedious reading exercise?” 

I looked up at the question to see Larry meandering down the hallway. “Essay” I explained “and I already have two others due for other classes” 

“Ah I see” Larry sighed as we began to walk down the hallway “quite the taxing conundrum” 

“I mean professors do realize that we have more classes than theirs, right?” I asked. 

“If they do I suppose they don’t care” Larry declared juggling the apple in his hand “such is the lot of the student I suppose” 

I hummed in agreement as we reached my uncle’s office and headed inside. He was working on the blackboard with his back to us as we entered. What looked to be some kind of tree-pruning algorithm. 

“Charles” Larry spoke calmly. Charlie about jumped out of his skin though. 

He let off a breath once he realized it was just us “I wish you wouldn’t do that” he muttered. 

“Boo” I shrugged. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry” Larry apologized “but why are you splitting a tree-pruning algorithm?” 

“I’m trying to reduce a cumbersome set of variables to a common point” Uncle C explained as I headed over to one of the various chairs in the office and sat down. 

“Okay, well, a bit of pruning I understand” Larry said “but why divide it into subsets?” 

“Because I’m dealing with different groups of suspects each with almost opposite motives for committing the same crime” Charlie informed. 

“Ah, so an FBI case” I voiced. 

“Yes, Don asked for my help” Charlie informed “one set lost money and wants revenge. The others made money and wants to keep it.” 

“Oh, this is about Syntel Corp.” Larry deduced coming closer. 

“How do you know that?” Charlie questioned, surprised. 

“What’s a Syntel Corp?” I asked. 

“A large corporation that was caught with a fraud scandal not long ago” Charlie explained. 

“Oh” I nodded in realization.

“I heard about the Chief Financial Officer being killed.” Larry informed “you might recall I lost a considerable investment in Syntel” 

“Yeah? Well, you got an alibi for this morning?” Charlie joked. Larry let out a breath “I’m kidding” Charlie chuckled and I smirked. 

“Ah don’t be too quick to dismiss me as a suspect” the physicist objected. 

“Why, how much you lose?” Uncle C inquired, exchanging a concerned glance with me. 

“175,000” Larry sighed. 

“Dollars?” Charlie questioned in surprise. 

“No euros” I muttered and earned a small glare from my uncle. 

“Look, in my defense, I didn’t count on being defrauded,” Larry pointed out. 

“Oh wow, well, are you okay, financially?” Charlie asked. 

Larry scoffed “well let’s just say the words ‘publish or perish’ have taken on a brand-new meaning. But, yeah, I mean, fortunately, I’ve hedged my bets on Google.” 

“Well help me then” Charlie voiced, turning back to the chalkboard and I swiveled in my seat to get a look as well. “I’ve, uh, I’ve got to combine two different groups of suspects,” Uncle C explained, raising up the front of his chalkboard. “According to monetary incentives and risk/reward ratios”

“So we need to rank them according to their motive for committing the murder” Larry clarified. 

“While also taking into account what might deter them from choosing murder verses another path hence the risk/reward” I added. 

“That’s right,” Charlie agreed. 

“Okay, what do these variables here express?” Larry inquired, pointing past Charlie at an equation on the chalkboard. I craned my neck to see the board around my uncle. 

“Well, I derived them from the bankruptcy data.” Charlie informed, “I assigned probability values to motives according to the suspects’ current circumstance.”

“Current circumstances?” Larry questioned confused “like what, where are they now or..?”

“Right,” Charlie nodded. 

“Okay,” Larry murmured, pacing around the younger professor. As we all thought on the problem. “Charles” Larry finally voiced after a moment and my uncle hummed in response. “Just as a thought experiment” the physicist paused and Charlie nodded for him to continue as I sat forward in my seat “what if you didn’t know the story of the Garden of Eden?” 

“Adam and Eve” Charlie muttered as Larry gestured to the apple in his hand. 

“What does this have to do with the creation of the world?” I inquired confused. 

“It’s just a thought experiment, let me explain” Larry advised me and I nodded. “Let's say you met them after they were exiled from Eden. Now, as they both suffer equally under the same punishment, how would you know which of them had taken the bite from the forbidden fruit?” 

“But they both-” 

“Shhh shhh shhh thought experiment” Larry hushed me as the cogs in Charlie’s brain began to turn. 

“The outcome doesn’t provide enough information to discern the inputs” Charlie deduced “if I really want to figure out who’s guilty I’ve got to reconstruct the original fraud at Syntel” 

“Precisely” Larry concluded “you’ve got to go back to the apple” the man took a large bite of his snack. 

Charlie turned back to his chalkboard and began working again at a dizzying rate. Meanwhile Larry meandered back over to my side of the desk. “You know people are always so hard on Eve but Adam was just as bad if not worse” I voiced. 

“What’s that?” Larry questioned. 

“Well Eve had to deal with the literal devil Adam just had to say no to a naked woman” I pointed out. Larry made a humming noise as his eyebrows rose on his head and he practically nodded with his hands. 

________________________

3rd POV. 

Don sighed as Charlie headed out of the room and his eyes scanned the bullpen landing on Daniel who was at a desk with his meager bag of belongings. “How’s our kid doing?” he asked Megan, eyes still on the boy. 

“Uh, I guess he’s a little better, but you know,” she let off a breath. “how would any of us be doing in his situation?” 

“Yeah” Don sat down next to her “any word from family services?” 

“There is no father in the picture” Megan explained “and we found a grandmother in” she reached for a pad of paper where she had written a note down “Bethany, Oklahoma. She has a heart condition and she can’t fly.”

“So what happens to him?” Don inquired looking over to see an agent talking nicely to the boy. 

“Well, tonight he’s going to go to this group home.” Megan informed. 

Don felt his stomach drop “oh come on you’ve got to be kidding me” he stated “I mean, that’s a nightmare. You know what those homes are like Abby’s social worker said she was put in one after her mom died. And- and she hated it” 

“I know” Megan defended “but I called WITSEC and they won’t put a minor into custody without a court order. And you know what? It’s not really any better than a group home is, anyway.” 

“I know, but I just don’t want him to get twisted around, till whatever chance we have of getting what he knows is gone.” Don explained trying to keep his emotions in check and make a logical argument. He had to stop thinking about Abby on this case.

“Well, I don’t like this at all,” Megan agreed “but I’m not set up to take care of a kid and you can barely handle the one you have” 

“Thanks” Don muttered but knew she was right. 

“What are we supposed to do?” Megan asked and Don looked back out at the kid, an idea coming to mind. 

“Charlie has an extra room at his house” he voiced. 

“Seriously? Charlie?” Megan asked skeptically. 

“Well my dad’s there and Abby is staying over to so-” he gestured vaguely with his hand. 

“Okay” Megan nodded “I guess it’s something” 

“Yeah,” Don muttered. He watched the kid for a moment longer.

“Don” his partner finally broke the silence with a tone that made him turn to look at her eyes and he could tell she was profiling him. “If you keep acting like this case isn’t hitting you differently you’re not going to handle it properly” she declared.

Don’s eyebrows knit together “I’m not- I just-” he cut off at her look. 

“That boy reminds you of Abby. You said it yourself a second ago that Abby was in the system after her mom died and before they found you as her guardian.” Megan voiced “it’s okay if it gets to you.” 

“Yeah” Don sighed. Knowing she was once again right. 

_______________________

Abby POV.

I gasped as my eyes scanned over the page of the book I was reading. “What?” Gramps asked mildly concerned as he sat reading in his chair. 

“Plot twist- I- neh-” I ended up just making a weird noise and waving him off as I continued reading the story. 

“Okay then” I heard the man mutter then there was noise from further in the house. 

“Charlie that you?” Alan called. 

“No, Dad, it’s me,” my father’s voice replied. “Hey Abby” he called in greeting and I waved in his general direction. My eyes still transfixed on the story in my hand. 

“Donnie. What are you doing here so late?” Alan questioned “I thought Abby would be spending the night and dinner’s been put away already” 

“She is and I don’t need dinner.” he paused “look-” 

“If you’re looking for Charlie he’s not here yet” Gramps informed. 

“Actually, I think I can talk to you” Don explained “I mean I’m sure he’ll be okay with it, but..” Don trailed. 

“And who is this?” I heard Alan inquire and I finally looked up to see a boy standing in the foyer looking around a bag hung on his shoulder.  

“This is Daniel.” Don introduced. 

“He’s not my brother is he?” I asked and both men gave me a look. 

________________

I sat a plate of PB&J down in front of Daniel as Alan and Don talked in the other room. The boy immediately picked it up to start eating. Once Don had explained what was happening I felt bad for the kid and my previous joke. This kid and I actually had a lot in common. 

“Thanks” he murmured after a moment. 

“No problem” I replied with a small smile. Then paused “I’m sorry about your mom. I lost my mom too and I know it hurts” 

He looked up at me in a little surprise “you lost your mom?” 

“Yeah and I didn’t know my dad back then either.” I explained “so I know it can be scary when you don’t have anybody but I know my dad now and I know he’ll work to get your mom justice at least okay?” 

The boy nodded slightly and I looked up to see Don coming over. “Hey buddy” he greeted Daniel taking a seat. “She makes a pretty good sandwich, huh?” he asked, sharing a glance with me. 

“Mom’s is better,” Daniel stated. 

“Yeah” Don nodded “yeah, I’m sure that’s true” 

“I was thinking about what you asked me,” Daniel explained hesitantly “you know, about what I saw?” 

“Uh-huh,” Dad murmured, encouraging the boy to continue. 

“There was a car” Daniel informed “After I heard the gunshot, I looked out the window.” 

“Do you remember what kind of car it was?” Don questioned carefully. 

“It was black or blue, maybe” Daniel offered thinking “big but not as big as an SUV.”

“You think if I showed you some pictures, maybe you’d remember?” Don suggested “I mean, you just have to do the best you can. It’s uh..” he trailed, losing the words. 

“So did you find them?” Daniel asked after a moment. 

“Who?” Don questioned. 

“The people who killed my mom” the boy stated. 

“Why do you think-” Don pressed, confused as I looked at the boy in surprise “I mean, are you remembering something?” 

“They were talking,” Daniel explained “at your office” a sad and guilty expression befell my father’s face as the boy continued “they said there are, like, 6,000 people who wanted to kill my mom.” 

“Oh, no, no, no” Don quickly objected “oh, no that’s not, that’s not… I think the thing is, um, you know, sometimes when we don’t know who the bad guys are, we start with a really big list. And, uh, it doesn’t mean everyone on it wanted to hurt your mom. I mean, in fact, I really think we’re probably just looking for one person.”

“Where am I gonna sleep?” Daniel asked, changing the topic. 

“Uh, I thought I’d put you up in my room” Don suggested giving me a look to tell me I would not be staying in the room I normally held in the house. “How’s that?” 

“Where will you sleep?” Daniel inquired, looking confused. 

“Oh, I don’t live here anymore, it’s from when I was a kid,” Don explained. “Abby stays in it when she sleeps here. It’s a pretty good room. I think you’ll like it.” 

“But you’re gonna stay right?” the boy clarified “you’re not gonna leave?” 

 Don looked back at the boy’s worried gaze before replying “uh, yeah, I can stay, sure” he agreed. “Yeah, you got it.” 

_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

3rd POV. 

Abby blinked her eyes open. There was a figure looking down at her. She was laying down. There was a mask on her face and cool air was coming from it. Everything seemed hazy. She was looking up at the night sky. There were a lot of moving figures at the edge of her vision and she smelled smoke. 

“My mom” Abby tried but the words were quieter and hard to get out “where’s my mom?” Hadn’t they just been driving a second ago? How had she gotten here? She couldn’t remember. That started her heart to beat faster and her breathing picked up. She always remembered. Why couldn’t she remember what just happened?

“Hey you’re awake” the person above her, who was still little more than a blur, spoke comfortingly. “Try to stay calm. What’s your name?” 

“Abby” the girl replied softly, a sharp pain stabbing her side “where’s my mom?” she grunted through the pain.

“I don’t know Abby but we’re going to get you to the hospital” the person replied. She tried to sit up but her back wouldn’t move. The only responsive part of her body seemed to be her arm and when she lifted it up she could see the blood covering it.  “Abby?” She heard the person but they were muffled as her arm fell and the hazy darkness consumed her vision again.

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

Abby POV. 

I gasped awake sitting up in bed and putting a hand to my mouth half expecting the oxygen mask to still be there. I took a couple deep breaths as the memory faded and looked around. I was in the guest room of Charlie’s house. And according to the clock on the nightstand it was the middle of the night. 

I took another deep breath and sighed getting up. It figured that everything going on with Daniel would stir up my memories of my mother’s death. I opened the door to the room quietly and carefully krept down the hallway and stairs. I was cutting through the foyer heading for the kitchen when the light flicked on behind me and I whirled around. 

Don was sitting up on the couch giving me a disgruntled and questioning look. “I was just getting a glass of milk,” I informed at a whisper. 

The man sighed and looked at his watch. “Why so late?” 

I shrugged “couldn’t sleep” 

“Nightmare?” 

“Sort of” 

Don sighed and started to get up. “Yeah I could use some milk too” he stated and we both headed into the kitchen. I hopped up to sit on the counter as my father got two mugs and filled them with milk. “My mom always said if you heat it up it helps you sleep” he informed. 

“Actually, while milk does have trace amounts of tryptophan which is used within the brain to make serotonin and melatonin. It’s been tested and proven that milk doesn’t help you sleep better. Heated or not. It’s just relaxing” I explained. Don gave me a look as he placed the mugs in the microwave. “Sorry” 

Don sighed, pressing the button to start the microwave and turning to me. “It’s fine at this point I’m used to the random fact dropping in the house” 

“Fair enough” I smirked. There was a quiet moment when neither of us spoke and the kitchen was only filled with the sound of the microwave humming. 

“Listen Abby-” Don started hesitantly but then was cut off by the sudden beeping of the microwave that made us both jump. He sighed, removing the two steaming mugs and handing me mine so I could blow on it softly. “Abby” he started again “I wanted to ask you, ab- about when you were in foster care” he stated. I looked at him a little confused over the top of my mug. “It’s just Megan mentioned something today and you know Daniel was almost sent to a group home before I offered to watch him and uh- you never really talk about your experience so-” 

“Dad” I cut off the man’s rambling. “It’s okay,” I reassured him, feeling comfortable at least talking about that side of my history. “I wasn’t there long to be honest. It was just one house I’d been in the hospital for two week after the accident because of the my injuries and uh, yeah the mom was mean, the dad was ignorant, the daughter was a brat, and the son was a perv” Don choked on his milk slightly at the last but Abby kept talking “I was there for about a month before I ran away.”

“A month?” Don questioned, perplexed. “But I thought it was a whole six months before you came to live with me after Janice died”

“It was,” I nodded. “I just spent most of it on the streets” Don blinked at me in shock. I had figured my social worker had already told Don that. “It’s not that big a deal” I spoke quickly “i’m fine” 

“Yeah but you were really homeless for five months?” the man exclaimed. 

I shrugged, pushing away the thoughts of a dancing girl with red hair, an old abandoned apartment building, an underpass, an old house with loud music and a smiling boy on a table. “It was just another season of my life” 

Don sighed taking a drink from his mug “you’re too young to have seasons to your life”

“Maybe” I murmured holding my warm mug with both hands “but it made me who I am today so, not all bad” 

A girl with flaming red hair was spinning dancing to the music as lights flickered around her and people bounced and swayed to the music. She took my hand and pulled me up onto the coffee table twirling me around and we laughed. 

I blinked away the memory, the smile fading from my face as Don straightened from where he had been leaning on the counter opposite me. He placed his mug in the sink “well we should try and get some sleep” 

“Yeah” I nodded, hopping off the island counter and heading back to my room with my still half filled mug. “Goodnight” I called as I reached the steps and Don made it to the couch. 

“Goodnight” he called in reply. 

________________

“... look I couldn’t get a hold of you, so I asked him, and he said it would be okay.” Don was telling his brother as I came downstairs in the morning. 

“Okay for what?” Charlie questioned. 

“For Lucinda Shay’s kid to stay here.” Don murmured checking his phone then spotting me coming over. 

“Of course, yeah, that’s fine.” Charlie replied a little surprised “Daniel Shay is upstairs” 

“I think he just got up” I informed the men who turned to me “I heard him head to the bathroom” 

“Look, I also need another favor” Don continued as he tucked in his shirt. “I gotta get to the airport to see if I can catch up with Thomas Galway. You two think you can hang here till Dad gets back?” 

“You need me to baby-sit?” Charlie asked. 

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea to leave him here alone.” Don explained. 

“He’s eleven he doesn’t need that much babysitting Uncle C” I scoffed at the professor “you don’t have to look so scared” 

“I’m not- I’m not scared” Charlie objected adamantly. “Actually, I have a way with children, so..” 

“Oh, yeah?” Don asked skeptically and I raised a dubious eyebrow at the mathematician.

“Yeah. I’ve been told I do.” Uncle C insisted. 

“You positive there wasn’t sarcasm involved?” I questioned and earned a reproachful look from my Uncle. 

“It’s just for ten minutes,” Don interjected, grabbing his jacket and heading for the stairs “come on, I’ll introduce you.” 

________________

“Hey Granger” I called as I approached my uncle’s office. 

The agent who had been standing in the doorway turned and smiled. “Hey Abby” I came up beside him and spied my uncle in the room working completely oblivious to his audience. “Does he always work like that?” Granger questioned, seeming fascinated. 

“Nah, this is him more relaxed actually” I murmured. 

Granger scoffed and finally knocked on the door stepping fully into the office as I followed. “Charlie, Don sent me down to check and see what you got from the supercomputer,” he explained, grabbing the professor’s attention.

Charlie hummed in disappointment “he must not have gotten my message” 

“I guess not” Granger murmured then looked into my uncle’s bowl of bubble gum “ooh, can I take one of these?” Charlie shrugged and the agent picked his candy as I went around to sit on the desk past the candy bowl. “Which message?” 

“There was a glitch in the data run,” Charlie explained. “But- uh, can you just tell me which one you’re taking?” 

“This red one” Granger replied, holding up the candy and I scoffed as Charlie dug around for the data sheet for his little experiment. 

“That’s very interesting,” the mathematician informed, writing down the information. 

“Okay,” Granger muttered, shooting me a glance I just shrugged. “So, look how small is this glitch, because Megan profiled seven ex-employees, all who have the potential to be the killer.” The agent handed Charlie the file and I hopped off the man’s desk to peek over his shoulder and he shifted the file out of view. “And anything you have might help us take this guy down before he has a chance to shoot another Syntel exec.” 

“I think I have one of these names on my list, actually” Charlie said and I took a step to the side when I saw him grab the bottom of the chalkboard in order to flip it. “Yeah, Morton Standbury, but the probability of Morton’s guilt is less than ten percent” Charlie tried to explain but Granger was already getting out his phone “I mean, that’s hardly conclusive” 

“Great, thanks,” the agent murmured, giving a thumbs up and putting his phone to his ear as he headed out of the office “David, hey, it’s me. Listen, Megan was right on with her hunch. The Stanbury guy is a match” he gave one final wave before disappearing. 

“Success?” I questioned giving Charlie a look. He just hummed looking back at the board “on only ten percent” 

__________________

3rd POV. 

Alan smiled softly as Don got up from talking to Daniel. “What?” his eldest questioned as he passed him heading for the back door. 

“Nothing,” Alan shrugged following his son. “Uh you know actually,” he paused, catching Don at the door. “You’ve just grown so much since, uh since Abby came along and uh, well I guess this boy is just bringing that out a bit.” 

Don let off a breath looking down to avoid Alan’s eye. “Well Abby changed a lot of things you know” he paused, biting his lip “I’ll come by later” he murmured heading back out the door. Alan watched him go and nodded lightly. 

_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

“I have a granddaughter” Alan voiced in bewilderment as both his sons and him sat at the kitchen table. The older one hunched over and looking like he was in between ill and dazed. 

“I have a niece,” Charlie added, just as shocked as his father. 

“I have a-“ Don hesitated to say it “I have a daughter.” He let out a large breath with the statement “I have a daughter I never even knew existed.” The man opened his mouth to speak more on it but found the words gone and ended up looking like a fish on land. 

“Well what are you going to do?” Charlie asked the big question. 

“He’s going to take her in.” Alan declared, looking to his eldest. “Aren’t you? ‘Cause if you don’t I will” 

“Of- of course I’m going to take her in.” Don answered quickly “I just- I just-“ but the words wouldn’t come and the man simply stood up and left the room heading outside into the yard. 

Alan watched him go. Charlie rose slightly from his seat as if to follow him. The elder quickly raised a hand to stop him. “I’ll talk to him,” he declared, getting to his feet. 

Alan headed outside to see Don pacing the yard back and forth. Running his hand through his hair and over his face. 

“Donnie” Alan spoke up to draw his son’s attention. “Talk to me” 

“It- its nothing Dad I just need a minute” the son attempted. 

His father saw right through him. “Uh huh sure because finding out you're a father is nothing” the man stated sarcastically. 

Don stopped in his pacing and turned to look at his father. The elder man took a seat on the back steps. A couple seconds later Don staggered over to join him. 

“It’s just I have no idea what it is to be a father,” Don admitted. “I mean my work is my life and I’m not in any type of relationship. I’ve never really even thought of kids b-“

“What? You think there’s a manual for this?” Alan cut his son off. “The day me and your mother brought you home I was more nervous and terrified than I had ever been in my life” Alan advised. “I also was far happier than I had ever been. You see, no father knows what they are doing; they figure it out along the way. They take from those who influenced them and they try to do what’s best for their kid.” He paused before adding “and pray they don’t mess them up to bad” 

Don scoffed. Looking out at the yard. “Do you think I can be a good dad?” 

Alan looked at his son with loving eyes. “I think you’re going to be the best Dad you possibly can and that with that you’ll be just fine” 

Don smiled lightly. As his father pat him on the back. This however did little to quell the nervous churning in his stomach. 

_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

Abby POV. 

“Do you have any idea what I could do with 300 million dollars?” Larry asked milling about Uncle C’s bookshelf as I sat on the floor doing homework and Uncle C worked on his computer at his desk. 

“Three hundred and twelve” Charlie corrected. “You said you were alright” 

“No, I am.” Larry assured “I was talking about my application for the Talis Foundation Research Grant” 

“Why are you worried about that?” Charlie asked. 

“Yeah weren’t you just bragging yesterday how you would smoke the competition and they’d be fouls not to choose you?” I asked. 

“I was but now Ivan Tsgorski has taken over the chairmanship of the grant committee” Larry explained coming over. 

“You attacked his theory on polarization flux,” Charlie pointed out. 

I winced “oh that’s not good” 

“I merely pointed out certain characteristics of gravitational waves that he had chosen to ignore” the physicist defended. 

“Larry I was there when he gave that paper” Charlie reminded “and you stood up and you called him a big, fat cheater in front of a room full of people” 

I gaped up at the older professor “you did not?!” 

“Well, no. Now you’re exaggerating” Larry objected “that room could not have been more than half full” 

I scoffed in amusement at this discovery. “Might we get back on task?” Charlie interjected. “And you back to your homework” he peered over his desk at me. 

“You’re no fun Uncle C” I pouted. 

“Come on, that essay isn’t going to write itself, meanwhile we have to solve a case” Charlie decreed, looking to Larry. 

“All right, okay,” Larry muttered, rubbing his face with the palm of his hands as he plopped into the seat in front of Charlie’s desk. “the money, the money, the money. The money is not where we thought it would be” 

“It should show up in the company’s cash flow statements, after the fraudulent transactions” Charlie explained as I attempted to focus on my mind numbing essay. 

“You know all these funds, they would have been transferred electronically, correct?” Larry voiced. 

“I imagine so,” Charlie agreed. 

“Electronic transactions” Larry stood up as he continued “have no mass and cannot be constrained in the manner of physical objects” 

“But they are bound by time, Larry,” Charlie pointed out. “And time only flows one way” 

“Please do not start a philosophical debate right now I am already bored out of my mind” I warned my uncle as the physicist wandered over toward the doors. Uncle Charlie sighed and gave me a look before Larry once again called our attention. 

“Are you aware you have standing water in this corner?” Larry asked, crouching down at the space between the two doors. 

“I know about the leak” Charlie muttered with annoyance “I called maintenance” 

“And?” 

“And they’ve got to tear out the wall and find the source of the leak” Charlie explained getting up while I craned my neck to see what Larry was up to. I saw him pull up the carpet in the corner. “What is with you today Larry? All I ask is for a little focus. Now what are we missing?” 

“Patience” I muttered under my breath and Charlie let out an exasperated breath. 

“What are you doing?” he pestered the physicist who pulled out a pen. 

“Finding the leak,” Larry stated, snapping the pen and pouring the ink into the puddle. 

“Well, you’re making a mess” Charlie stammered as I got to my feet and came over to look over his shoulder. 

“Well by staining the currents we can observe the ink spread out on the pooled water,” Larry explained “and then figure out the flow pattern” we watched the ink move in the water drifting closer to the wall “and once we know how it flows… yeah, you see?” he pointed “it’s not coming down from the wall. It’s coming up from the floor” 

“That’s cool Larry,” I commented. 

“That’s it” Charlie muttered “we’re missing the flow” 

_________________

I headed into the house quickly and was met with a lot of FBI. “What happened?” I asked, approaching my uncle and father. 

“Daniel’s missing,” Don quickly informed. 

“What!?” 

“It’s okay, Mr. Eppes. We’re gonna find him” Megan was reassuring Gramps as she entered the room with him. 

“I went into the kitchen to get a couple of cans of soda for us.” Alan explained “he was standing over there, right by the table” Gramps pointed past me and Charlie as Don raised his hands to try and calm his father down. “He couldn’t have gotten away” 

“It’s not your fault. So could you please just calm down?” Don asked as me and Charlie headed over to the table. 

“I would have seen him,” Alan insisted. 

“You're not helping the situation Dad” Don sighed. 

I looked at the table that pretty much only held a phone and a couple magazines “could he have made a call?” I suggested. 

“Let’s see,” Charlie muttered, picking up the phone and hitting redial. 

 “Hey, Don, give me a second.” Granger called while walking in, my father turned and spotted Charlie on the phone. “I just talked to David. He said he found something in the Syntel employment records.” 

“Hold on,” Dad ordered his agent and then turned to his brother who was now talking to the person on the phone “Charlie, you got to keep the line clear” then turned back to his agent “say what?” 

“Okay can you hold on a second” Charlie muttered into the phone then looked to Don “Dad said he saw him here. I hit redial. It’s National Cab Company.” 

“Cab? Why the hell would he take a cab?” Gramp questioned. 

“Running away?” I asked in confusion. 

“All right, I’m on the cab.” Granger declared heading out of the room. 

“Tell me if you get anything,” Don told him, his eyes lingering on me for a moment before a thought occurred to him and he  jumped into action. “Megan, come with me. I think I know where he is.” with that he was heading from the house. 

“I hope he’s alright,” Alan muttered. 

“Me too Gramps” I agreed. 

______________

I waved alongside Charlie and Alan as Daniel waved goodbye from next to Don. “I liked the kid, shame he has to go” I muttered. 

Alan hummed “yes well the next stray we pick up you can look after” 

Charlie scoffed “admit it you liked having him around” 

“Yeah well” Alan sighed “having someone young in the house was a nice change of pace I suppose” 

I smiled as we watched Daniel give my father a hug. Don passed the boy off to a flight attendant at the door to the airport waving goodbye. “What?” he asked with a chuckle as he rejoined us. 

“My hope for grandchildren has been rekindled” Alan decreed and I gave him a look. 

“What am I chop liver?” 

“Grandchildren who I get to enjoy before they become angsty teenagers” Alan replied. 

“Ah” I scoffed. 

“Don’t start dad.” Don complained. 

“I’m not making a formal request, I’m simply saying it would be nice” Gramps explained. 

“Come on,” Don muttered. 

“Dad you do realize how long the odds actually are for this man?” Charlie joked. 

“Charlie, what’s your problem, huh?” Don defended quickly as he pulled me into a side hug “I already contributed. You got nothing” 

“Wow now I’m a bragging point” I muttered sarcastically. 

“Well, given your dating pattern” Charlie argued “or absence of a dating pattern-” 

“Look, I wouldn’t talk if I were you, buddy” Don countered. 

“I’m crunching numbers, kid” 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Statistically I’m on course to be way ahead of you in the stable family environment for offspring” 

“Yeah, yeah, makes sense you’re older” Alan agreed as my father released me and we started walking. 

“I don’t see siblings in my future” I muttered jokingly. “Well anymore planned ones” 

“Hey, keep it up” Don muttered pulling his keys from his pocket “it’s a long walk home” 

Me, Alan, and Charlie all exchanged a look and bit our tongues following my father to the parking lot. 

#Numb3rs #don eppes #charlie eppes #alan eppes #colby granger #david sinclair #megan reeves #amita ramanujan #episode per chapter #larry fleinhardt #numb3rs #Abby Calvin #fanfiction

[mickeyisprocrastinating]

"Dharma & Greg": A Look Back at a Gem That Ended Too Soon

In the late '90s, amidst a sea of sitcoms that delivered family and workplace comedy, "Dharma & Greg" emerged as a breath of fresh air. Premiering in 1997, this quirky series offered a unique take on relationships and cultural clashes through the lens of an improbably yet irresistibly matched couple. Today, we remember and analyze a show that not only entertained but also subtly pushed the boundaries of traditional sitcoms.

An Unlikely Pairing That Worked

"Dharma & Greg" centered around Dharma Finkelstein, a free-spirited yoga instructor with a hippie upbringing, and Greg Montgomery, a conservative and buttoned-up lawyer. The show's premise kicked off with their whirlwind romance that led to marriage on their first date. Jenna Elfman and Thomas Gibson brought these characters to life with undeniable chemistry, setting the stage for a series of comedic and touching explorations of their polar-opposite worlds.

Cultural Clashes and Heartfelt Moments

What set "Dharma & Greg" apart was its fearless approach to depicting the intersections of vastly different family dynamics and personal ideologies. Dharma's parents, Abby and Larry, epitomized the San Francisco counterculture. In contrast, Greg's parents, Edward and Kitty, were affluent, socially conservative, and often bewildered by their son's unconventional life choices. The show thrived on these cultural clashes, delivering both humor and poignant moments as it explored themes of acceptance and love.

The Best of "Dharma & Greg"

One of the most memorable aspects of the series was how it handled Dharma's inexhaustible optimism and Greg's attempts to balance his career ambitions with his personal life. Episodes often highlighted how each character grew by stepping out of their comfort zones, whether it was Dharma attending a high-society function or Greg engaging in meditation on a rooftop.

Perhaps the series' best and defining feature was its ability to mix light-hearted comedy with moments of sincere emotional connection. An episode that beautifully encapsulated this balance was "Shower the People You Love With Love," where Dharma organizes a surprise baby shower for Greg's uptight mother, Kitty. The event initially seems destined for disaster but ends up bringing everyone closer, showcasing the show’s underlying message of love and acceptance across cultural divides.

Gone Too Soon

Despite its success and critical acclaim, including a Golden Globe win for Jenna Elfman, "Dharma & Greg" was canceled after five seasons. When compared to other '90s sitcoms that enjoyed longer runs, it's clear that "Dharma & Greg" was perhaps ahead of its time, offering a narrative depth that could have been explored further. The show's abrupt end left many storylines unresolved and fans yearning for more.

In retrospect, "Dharma & Greg" was more than just a sitcom; it was a cultural touchstone that reflected the era's evolving attitudes towards marriage, family, and personal freedom. While it may have ended too soon, the series remains a cherished gem that continues to resonate with audiences who find joy and inspiration in watching two seemingly incompatible worlds merge through love and laughter.

#90s #series #nostalgia #1990s nostalgia #dharma and greg

[gayofthefae]

I’ve been trying to analyze Buddie’s dynamic and motives in 201 for a while because they’re pre-arc and just feel so...different, you know? But in rewatching the gym scene just now, I noticed something: as Eddie enters the gym, he eyes Buck - in a way that makes me think Buck was his intent in going into the gym. 

The way we are meant to perceive it as the audience - along with Buck - is this guy came to work out and ended up just naturally one-upping Buck, threatening him and motivating him to grab another weight, but I don’t think that’s what’s happening here anymore.

My working theory now is that Eddie, with no idea why Buck didn’t like him, wanted to be impressive/attractive to him. He wanted to seem competent on the call. When that didn’t work, he probably thought it wasn’t enough, so he wanted to seem fit in the gym. Then he tried to start a conversation by giving him advice about lighting. The following conversation with Chimney, while we all love Chimney, always felt like “talking just loud enough for Buck to hear” to me. I mean, he’s showing off hot photos of himself. Why would he not want Buck to come over and look? His smile when Buck suggests that the photos were professional only cements this more in my mind. Even the comment about the photographer not being a professional is the same type of concept as Buck was going for with “some of us don’t need lighting to look good”.

This all leads to “what’s your problem, man?” being a variation of “why aren’t my tactics working?” As soon as Buck answers, he takes it in and adjusts accordingly, apologizing and once again, trying to be likeable - even bringing up Abby in an attempt to connect again.

In the next call, he totally took what Buck said into account, backing off from the comparisons and such during the grenade call, showing modesty with the short answer of “my share” when asked about how many shrapnel wounds he’s seen.

Also, as soon as it was revealed that the grenade was live, Buck’s stress overpowered his pettiness completely. He just...trusted and supported Eddie immediately, and I wanted to share because I noticed that during the removal of the grenade, he said “come on. you got this”.

#201 meta #buddie meta #911onfox #buddie #911 meta #basically eddie wants buck to like him #like so badly #all the other analyses of this episode i've seen have been on buck #so i did one on eddie

[randomfandomimagine]

Imagine: Trying to confess to Abby

Requested by anon

_

You took a deep breath as you walked over to where Abby stood. Today you were going on patrol with her, and you had promised yourself that you would finally talk to her. 

The distance that separated you was smaller and smaller, and with that your heart beat faster and faster. Just when you were about to tap her in the shoulder, Manny came by and claimed her attention.

“Ey, Abby” He said with his thick accent. “Are you leaving already?” 

“Yeah” When Manny waved at you behind her, Abby turned around and pointed a thumb at you. “With Y/N, actually” 

“About that, can we talk before we go? I...” Abby didn’t let you finish your sentence, pulling at your arm with so much strength that you had to go after her. 

“That can wait” She muttered. “We should go now, it’s getting late”

You sighed and resigned yourself to telling her later. Again.

_

Things seemed calm enough, but you were on edge. Between being aware enough of your surroundings that no infected could surprise you and the confession that burned on your mind and on your tongue, you felt your hands shaking.

“You haven’t said a word” Abby suddenly spoke up, turning to you. “Are you worried about something, is it that you wanted to tell me before?” 

“Um... well, yeah...” You nervously chuckled, tightening the hand that rested on your holster. “Hey, Abs... you know what day is it?” 

She blinked in confusion, having no idea what thoughts boiled in your head.

“No, what day is it?” Abby finally asked, intently staring at you. 

“Valentine’s Day...” You averted your gaze, suddenly feeling silly.

“Ugh” She groaned. “No offence, but I was never into that sappy crap” 

“Oh...” You gave up, thinking that maybe all your failed attempts at confessing to her were a sign that you shouldn’t. 

“You know what I mean” She quickly corrected herself. “Dating and all that is fine, I just... never liked that day. Even long before all this shit...” 

Abby waved her strong arms all around you, reminding you of the situation you were in. On patrol. It didn’t feel right to speak about your feelings for her then, It felt far too trivial and unimportant.

“Okay, spit it out” She urged you, encouraging you with a hand gesture. “You’ve been acting weird for a few days now, what’s up?” 

“Don’t worry about it” Abby rolled her eyes at you, and you knew what she was thinking. You always brushed things off, but she didn’t let you put others first like you normally would. “Fine, truth is...”

Abby impatiently tilted her head to the side, crossing her arms as well. Despite it all, a fond smile lurked at the corner of her lips as she watched you fumble over your words.

“Ah, fuck it” All the frustration that built up over all those days of failed confessions came out as you threw yourself to kiss her on the lips.

Abby gasped against your mouth, but otherwise didn’t do anything. Realizing what you had just done, you quickly broke away and analyzed her expression. Nothing was written in her features but sheer shock.

“S-Sorry, Abs, I-” You were worried about her reaction, but then an infected roared in the distance. Abby didn’t say a word, just took your hand and tugged at it.

She didn’t hold your wrist or your arm, or tug at your shirt. It was your hand. Your heart skipped a beat, knowing her well enough to realize what that gesture meant.

Tag list: @call-me-harley-quinn / @wonderlandfandomkingdom // If you want to be added or taken off the tag list for these fandoms or characters, send me an ask!! // Feedback and reblogs are appreciated!  

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson imagine #abby anderson #the last of us imagine #the last of us #rfi writings #imagine #gif imagine #abby anderson gif imagine #the last of us gif imagine #tlou #tlou imagine #tlou gif imagine #reader insert #requested #valentines day

[dissonantdreamer]

In the epilogue, Ellie’s new bite on her left hand disappeared?? It’s there during her fight with abby at the beach though

Ah, yes, why oh why, loudly do I wonder... (this is part of an ongoing, one-sided battle where it’s me and my dumb little brain that over analyzes tiny details vs. Naughty Dog and their attempt to hide the truth in little game details)

I found that interesting. Especially be cause they liiiiinger on that shot of her hand. Why would you do that, hmm? We know she’s lost her fingers and yes it’s jarring to see, but they give you ample time to notice there is no infection bubbled up and scouring her skin like her arm. There is a faint scar and yes, it could be she took care of it and her hand healed really well. But where the fuck is the fun in that? Where’s the mystery? Where’s the implication that something has changed. Honestly, I’m not sure if they meant for it to disappear entirely by any medical sort of means. In fact, it would make more sense for Naughty Dog to imply something that could come into play in a later plot line...

I have a fun lil’ headcanon that because her brain hosts some strain of CBI, it’s mutated to protect the host. Meaning that if she gets bitten the wound does not get infected in the way it did the first time. Therefor allowing her to pass it off as part of a struggle, because if there are no signs of infection, she can’t be shot. Someone she fought must’ve fought hard to survive at any cost. She’ll still have a bite that needs to heal, however it will look like a regular old bite and she can come up with a lie about what bit her.  This is based off the idea for the infection to spread it needs it’s host alive until it can get to a place where it can either spread spores or transfer another way to a new host. Since it’s no longer spreading to others, the infection adapts to Ellie, keeping her safe. Is that scientifically sound? Probably not. (But neither is what Neil came up with so I do what I want) Is the implication that her infection has mutated to preserve her in some way really cool? Yes. Yes it is. Shut up, let me have this.

thanks for the ask, anon! i love gettin’ out the old cork board and red string :)

#kind orb with sick shades #the analysis of us #this has been a theory of mine since i finished the game #and i will write it in wherever i like

[tumbleweed-palmer]

Nothing Painful: Jimmy Palmer X Reader

As the day wore on Y/N didn’t hear anything from Jimmy nor any news about him. It had been hours and the workday was close to ending. The sun had already set outside, but still there had been no word of how Jimmy was doing.

As the hours ticked by Y/N found herself growing gradually more and more anxious.

McGee had taken some sympathy on her at the very least reassuring her that Jimmy was still being interviewed but was just having some issues recalling every detail about what had happened. He’d reassured her that Jimmy would be fine.

Y/N wasn’t sure she believed it though. Jimmy had been at this interview for hours now. Did it usually take this long? She wasn’t sure how long giving a statement usually took someone?

Evidence had been brought over from the crime scene and now sat in Abby’s lab, but Y/N found herself unable to feel as though she was of any use when it came to actually assisting Abby with any of it.

Thankfully, Abby had been fast to reassure Y/N that she could handle it on her own. Though Y/N had a feeling that when Abby had spotted Y/N’s shaking hands that she’d decided to keep Y/N far from the evidence for now.

Y/N wasn’t sure if she felt relieved or frustrated by her inability to focus on her work. Part of her wanted to dive right into the evidence and work as long as it took until whoever had committed the murder and had most likely attempted to shoot Jimmy was apprehended. She felt frustrated that she was so unable to do anything useful at the moment. She’d been hired to help Abby after all, and it seemed that she was incapable of managing that simple task.

The other part of her understood she’d be absolutely useless when it came to analyzing any of the evidence even if she tried. She understood it was probably for the best that she didn’t work until she could give it her all. She wasn’t sure she was in the right state of mind to be of any assistance to Abby. She was not sure her brain was capable of even processing anything at the moment other than an overwhelming sense of dread and anxiety. She was almost thankful that no one was forcing her to attempt to compartmentalize her feelings at the moment and focus on work.

She kept replying the words she’d cried to Abby earlier in the day. “He could have died, and I would have avoided telling him how I feel. “

The thought would not leave her brain.

Y/N found herself pacing around Abby’s lab her mind caught in an endless loop going over and over all the what ifs.

If Jimmy had been any slower at dropping to the ground, he would have been shot. What if he’d been shot? Would it be a near fatal injury or a minor one? If he had been shot would she be sitting up at a hospital right now hoping he would recover? If he had been shot and killed on the spot then what would she have done? Would she be sitting mourning him as he lie dead down in the morgue drawer in Autopsy? Would she have to sit here with the knowledge that he was lying cold and lifeless waiting for Ducky or whoever was unfortunate enough to have to perform an autopsy on him?

She kept thinking about all the bodies she’d witnessed lying dead down in Autopsy any time she dropped by to visit with Ducky and Jimmy or drop by a piece of evidence. It had never bothered her before because she’d never allowed herself to focus on them. She’d viewed them the same way she’d viewed the bodies she’d seen on her grandfather’s embalming table. She’d told herself that they weren’t her loved ones, and it wasn’t her grief.

She knew though that she wouldn’t be able to make that separation in her mind if it was Jimmy on that autopsy table.

The thoughts made her feel sick to her stomach.

She couldn’t stop herself from thinking back on how she’d been so hesitant when Jimmy had first confessed his feelings for her. He had to try so hard to convince her to just give him a chance and to let go of those fears.

She could still remember his promise that if everything fell apart that he’d be right there to fix it with her. She’d been so afraid then.

She had been so sure that if she gave him a chance then it would only end in disaster. It seemed like most things in her life ended in disaster, so why should Jimmy be any different?

She’d been so wrong though. Jimmy had gone above and beyond in proving to her that things between them could work.

He’d been amazing right from the start. It was in all the sweet little things he’d done for her thus far in their relationship. Like how he still gave her rides to work in the mornings because he knew her car was finicky at best and he hated the thought of her car breaking down on the way into work. It was the tea and the fresh blueberry scone he’d brought her when he’d known she was stressed out trying to help Abby perform maintenance on the variety of equipment down in the lab. It was in how he bought her a bouquet of sunflowers on their second date because he remembered overhearing her talking to Abby about how she thought that roses were pretty but overrated and she much preferred sunflowers or wildflowers to roses.

It was in how he’d been so quick to hold her hand right from that very first date onwards. He was always so eager to show her some sort of affection even in the tiniest act. It was in how he was so shy about kissing her at first, almost as though he was frightened that kissing her too often would cause her to pull from him. He’d confessed that his past girlfriends had found him to be clingy at times, and she’d had to reassure him that she didn’t find him to be clingy. He’d been a little nervous about getting too affectionate on those first few dates, aside from holding her hand and kissing if she initiated it. That had changed of course after those first few dates when it had become clear to him that she wasn’t going anywhere. After that it had seemed that he couldn’t stop kissing her, and she never wanted him to stop.

There was also the way he had seemed so shy the first time she had slept over at his apartment. He had offered to take the sofa, but she’d insisted that they share a bed. She could still remember how he had seemed so surprised when she’d cuddled up against him, but the smile on his face when it had happened had made her want to cuddle him all the more. She had felt so safe sleeping by his side that night and she’d been relieved to do so practically every night since then. When he’d held her against him, she’d felt as though nothing, and no one could touch her. She knew that most people probably didn’t look at Jimmy Palmer and think of him as a protector, but Y/N couldn’t help but to trust that he’d do anything it took to protect her if it came down to it. He had proven that when he’d gotten into that fist fight over her, hadn’t he?

The sweetness of their relationship had continued in all those phone calls and exchanged text messages they had had when they’d both gone their separate ways to visit their families over the Christmas holiday. He would text her good morning each morning and would call her every night when he went to bed. It had become enough of an occurrence that her grandfather had pestered her over how she was smiling at her cell phone and text messages in it more than once.

Jimmy had been so patient with her letting her call all the shots when it came to intimacy. He’d not once pushed her for more than she was willing to give him. He had followed her lead no questions asked.

She kept thinking about last night, the way he had looked at her as they made love for the first time. He had stared at her with such devotion. She had never had anyone look at her that way before. It had made her feel so vulnerable and so incredibly worshiped all at once.

The simple fact was that if Jimmy Palmer had died today, Y/N knew she would never be okay again.

The thought both unnerved her and comforted her. She wasn’t accustomed to depending on someone that way. She’d had to learn to take care of herself at a young age.

Her parents’ divorce had been rough and then her mother had died so suddenly, and she’d been left with a father who hadn’t wanted any part in raising his children.

Even as her grandparents had taken in her brothers and her and loved them and raised them the best they could, Y/N had still felt the need to be wary of becoming too dependent on others.

Her father’s abandonment hadn’t helped her learn to place her trust in others. He’d gone off and started his own family after dumping her brothers and her off with his parents. It had been as though he wanted to have a clean slate, a perfect cookie cutter family that didn’t consist of Y/N or her brothers.

Occasionally he’d made contact with Y/N and her brothers, though that usually just resulted in arguments and dysfunction.

Y/N had tried in the past to make an honest effort to let people in and trust in them.

The few times Y/N let her guard down it had only resulted in pain though.

Her relationships had always reinforced the idea that she would only get hurt when she let her guard down. The men she’d attracted had taught her far too much about pain.

Jimmy was the first person who had ever shown her that love didn’t have to be painful. She’d found comfort with him.

She knew that if anything ever happened to him then she would never recover.

Y/N was shaken from these thoughts as Tony spoke up the man having watched her pace around the lab long enough. He had come down to pester Abby about how far they’d gotten with the evidence and had been watching her assistant pace the lab wringing her hands together for a long while now. “Y/N I get that you’re freaking out right now, but enough with the pacing already.”

She stared up at him a small frown crossing her features not missing the sour look Abby sent Tony. Abby was quick to speak trying to smooth things over. “What he means to say is that you should sit down and try to take a deep breath. You’re going to make yourself sick if you keep it up. Jimmy is going to be okay.”

Tony nodded in agreement another comment flying form his lips. “Yeah, Palmer will be fine, the autopsy gremlin will be back down in the basement avoiding direct sunlight come tomorrow.”

Y/N was the one who sent Tony a sour look this time a scoff escaping her lips as she spoke ignoring his remark. “I can’t believe this is happening. None of it feels real. I keep thinking it’s a bad dream. I feel so useless right now. I cannot focus long enough to do my job. I hate feeling this useless. I won’t be able to relax until this is all over and the bastard that tried to kill him is either sitting in jail or is dead.”

Abby was quick to speak trying her best to reassure her. “And we’re going to make sure that happens.”

The conversation didn’t have a chance to resume as the lab doors opened an exhausted Jimmy finally appearing.

Y/N was fast to rush over to him her arms encircling his waist she burying her face against his chest. He embraced her just as tightly taking a deep breath taking in the usual scent that surrounded her.

He’d begun to associate the smell with comfort. It was a mixture of scents; her floral perfume, a trace of the fabric softener she used, the sweet scent of the body lotion she used combined with the fruity smell of the shampoo and body wash she bathed in. The combined smells made him feel at ease at the moment when he very much felt so out of control.

He felt his throat tighten he frustrated and exhausted. “Director Vance is sending me home. I have to come back to the lab first thing tomorrow and see if Abby and you can help me draw a sketch so we can get a bolo out.”

Y/N was fast to reach up her hand pressing to his cheek concern washing over her as he spoke again struggling to explain what had taken him so long. “I can’t make my brain work right now. It’s just…It all happened so fast.”

She was quick to speak wanting to offer reassurance. “It’s been a long day. I’m sure if you get some rest then things will seem clearer tomorrow.”

Abby was just as quick to reassure him agreeing with Y/N. “Y/N’s right. You’ve had a long day. We’ll start back up first thing tomorrow and figure this all out.”

Even Tony tried to offer some support thankfully dropping his usual sarcasm. “Yeah Palmer, just go get some rest.”

Jimmy let out a soft sigh the same words leaving him that he’d just said the Director Vance just moments ago. “I’m sorry I couldn’t catch him.”

Y/N furrowed her brow wanting so badly to point out the obvious. The man had a gun, what did Jimmy expect to do had he caught him?

She held it in though knowing this was the last thing he needed to hear at the moment. Instead she spoke running her thumb along his cheek soothingly. “Let’s go get you something to eat and go get some rest okay? Your place or mine?”

“Your place please.” Jimmy responded without any hesitation knowing he wanted nothing more at the moment other than to be at her apartment where he knew he could sink into her bed and escape from everything that had occurred today. The idea of being so surrounded by everything that reminded him of her sounded soothing.

He barely acknowledged the goodbyes or the worried looks thrown his way as he followed Y/N out of the lab and towards the elevators.

His brain was too caught in his own self-loathing. Why couldn’t he remember anything useful? Why couldn’t he have been braver?

…………………………………………………………

Jimmy had picked at his dinner barely eating any of it. Y/N had been insistent that they stop and get something to eat. He hadn’t eaten yet and she knew him well enough to know that his blood sugar would plummet if he didn’t eat dinner. He got lightheaded if he didn’t even have a small snack during the day. He couldn’t skip meals. He needed to eat, she’d pointed out, or he would feel awful later. He hadn’t had much of an appetite though and had wound up taking most of his sandwich and salad home in a to go container.

His mood hadn’t lifted even as he’d changed into his sleep clothes relieved they’d long ago begun leaving spare pieces of clothing at one another’s apartments.

Even being surrounded by all the things that reflected Y/N’s taste and personality through her décor hadn’t soothed his mind the way he hoped it would.

He had a distinct feeling that rest wouldn’t come to him easily even as he sank into Y/N’s bed warm underneath the pale blue sheets and the colorful purple and pink quilt she rested over the bed. Even the distinct memory that they’d made love in this bed the night before didn’t bring Jimmy the comfort or the warmth he’d needed.

He found himself sitting up in her bed staring at the closed bathroom door the sound of her shower running behind it becoming white noise as he tried his best to recall everything that had happened back at the crime scene.

It was as though someone had placed a block on his memory and he second guessed everything he thought he might have seen. The details weren’t as clear as they should be.

As hard as he tried his brain remained muddled and his thoughts remained unclear.

He was pulled from his thoughts as the bathroom door opened Y/N appearing. She’d taken one of his shirts needing to feel closer to him after all that had happened today. Though the t shirt was a little snugger across the curve of her body it was still a welcome sight.

She made her way towards the bed her hand running through her hair pushing it back relieved she’d at least remembered to blow dry her hair before bed she never enjoying sleeping with wet hair.

She climbed into bed beside him not taking the usual position they’d been taking at night, with her head resting over his chest, but Jimmy found himself being the one who rested against her allowing her to wrap her arms around him. He allowed his head to rest against her breasts as he clung to her.

She ran a soothing hand through his hair her voice soft. “I was afraid for you. When Ducky told me what happened…I almost collapsed. I just…I was so afraid and then it took so long for the interview to end and I was so scared for you, of what could have happened to you.”

He managed to speak squeezing her all the tighter. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so afraid…I don’t know how Tony or Ziva or McGee or Gibbs does it…blocks out the fear. I saw the gun and I was frozen in place. I don’t even know how I managed to drop to the ground in time…it all just happened so fast.”

He paused that self-loathing feeling washing over him again. “I should have been able to catch him. I let him get away.”

Y/N couldn’t hold back the words this time around. “Jimmy he had a gun. What would you have done had you caught him?”

Jimmy pulled from her his voice raising guilt and self-hatred coursing through him. He knew he sounded so harsh but he couldn’t stop himself from lashing out. “I know that, the gun was pointed at me! I know I’m not some badass NCIS agent like Tony or Gibbs, but I could have figured something out! I let him get away and now I can’t even remember a thing about him, and everyone can see how useless I am!”

He cringed as he noticed the way she jolted at his outburst. Now he’d gone and done it. He’d lashed out at the one person trying to provide him with reassurance. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t be anything like the crappy guys she’d dated before him, and here he was lashing out at her when she only wanted to help him.

He was being a jerk to the one person he didn’t want to disappoint.

He spoke curling back up against her not helping but to cling to her fearing he’d screwed everything up. His voice sounded weak as he squeezed her so tightly. “I’m sorry.”

She went back to running her hand through his hair giving him the mercy his brain told him he didn’t deserve. “It’s okay Jimmy.”

“It’s not okay. You were just trying to help. I shouldn’t have lashed out like that.” He insisted still feeling like hot garbage at the moment.

She spoke her comment only making him feel worse. “I’ve had far worse done to me Jimmy.”

“I wish you’d tell me about it.” The response rolled through his head, but he kept it in not wanting to push her into anything, not right now when she just had to put up with him being so angry.

He instead chose to speak needing to say the words. “You didn’t deserve it. I can promise you that you didn’t deserve it.”

She squeezed him a little tighter not sure what to say in response to this. She instead decided to say the only thing she could think to say. “I don’t need you to be like Tony or Gibbs. I only need you to be you.”

He squeezed his eyes shut wanting to tell her that he wasn’t good enough. Didn’t she see it? He was so useless right now.

He only spoke his voice tight. “I know.”

She frowned unsure that his response indicated that he actually believed her. She was lost as to what she could do to make him believe though. It seemed as though it was so far beyond her. She didn’t know what to do.

She wanted so badly to make everything feel okay. She felt so powerless at the moment.

So, she did the only thing she could. She pressed a kiss to the top of his head her fingers continuing to run through his curls.

All she could do right now was hold him. She’d hold him as long as he needed it.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

It was clear that Jimmy’s head wasn’t any clearer the next morning. He’d done his best to describe the assailant he’d pursued to Abby as she worked up a sketch on her computer.

Y/N stood aside watching a frown crossing her features as she watched the image on Abby’s computer. It didn’t look like any man she’d ever seen. It barely looked human.

Jimmy spoke clearly not seeing what Abby and Y/N saw. “That’s it, that’s the guy.”

“That’s the guy?” Y/N asked confusion washing over her.

Abby was quick to add on. “That’s the guy who picked up the passport?”

Jimmy remained clueless as to what was wrong with the image. “Yeah. Why, what’s wrong?”

He stared back at the image on the screen Abby being the one who broke it to him. “So, you got shot at by Dr. Jekyll?”

Jimmy sighed still not seeing exactly what the girls saw. He spoke correcting Abby’s statement. “I think you’re referring to Mr. Hyde. Dr. Jekyll’s the one who invented the potion. But look yeah, you have captured his essence perfectly. His anger, his intent. His bloodlust.”

Y/N spoke being the one who choose to break the news to him this time. “His likeness?”

Abby provided agreeing. “His likeness, that’s kind of the point here.”

Y/N spoke trying to reassure him as he sighed moving away from the desk it clear that he was growing frustrated with the process. “Let’s start over. You said it was a white guy right, late middle aged?”

Jimmy rested his hands on his hips unable to stop himself from venting. “I couldn’t catch him, and now I can’t even identify him.”

Y/N was quick to move making her way over to him placing a hand against his back as he began to pace. He spoke deciding to just come out and say it. “I’m sure Gibbs thinks I’m completely useless.”

Y/N was fast to respond. “You aren’t useless. You could never be useless.”

Abby stood up just as fast to try to reassure him. “No, Jimmy. You chased a crazy guy with a gun. You’re a stud muffin…not saying that to hit on you, I promise Y/N…but seriously Jimmy, you’re an iron fist with a velvet glove. You’re baby Gibbs.”

Y/N smiled slightly at Abby’s declaration. She spoke as Jimmy glanced at her for confirmation. “Definitely, it was such a Gibbs move.”

The comment did manage to make a small smile cross Jimmy’s lips though it came out a little weaker than his usual smiles. “Really?”

Both women spoke fast to agree. “Really, now come on let’s try again.”

Jimmy let them lead him back to the computer he fast to speak as he regathered his thoughts. “Try making the bridge of the nose flatter.”

……………………..

The next few times he tried to build a sketch were just as unsuccessful as the first. He was quickly growing frustrated enough that Y/N had to step in and convince him to take a walk with her.

His mood continued to lower as the day wore on and he found himself nowhere closer to providing useful information as he’d been the night before.

He’d been unable to even remember what the passport he’d seen looked like. All he could remember was that the passport was dark blue.

Apparently though dark blue was the most popular passport color in the world. Remembering that the passport was blue narrowed it down to about 72 passports.

McGee had the bright idea to try hypnotization to see if it could trigger Jimmy’s memory. Y/N had left to get lunch for everyone while they tried that route.

She was a little thrown off by the awkward energy in the lab when she returned with lunch.

She spoke frowning at the look of discomfort on Abby and McGee’s faces. “Did we learn anything?”

McGee spoke glancing at Jimmy that look of discomfort still across his face. “Well, we learned something about your boyfriend.”

Jimmy frowned just as confused as Y/N. He spoke an exasperated sigh leaving him. “They won’t tell me what happened.”

McGee glanced down at Y/N’s red ballet flats and back at Jimmy the odd action only furthering Y/N’s confusion. Abby was fast to speak a groan escaping her. “You don’t want to know…trust me.”

She turned the lights back on going to take the Caf Pow Y/N had brought her.

Jimmy was fast to speak his voice frantic. “Wait, we’re just giving up?”

Abby spoke shaking her head. “We aren’t giving up Jimmy.”

McGee was fast to add on. “We’re moving on.”

Jimmy shook his head frantically. No, no, No I have to do this. Please, please try again.”

Abby rolled her eyes flipping the lights back off praying Jimmy didn’t mention shoes this time around.

…………………………………………….

The second round of hypnotizing was unsuccessful. Jimmy’s brain had latched on to the word “shot” and had instead described the man who gave him two shots of espresso on the days Y/N and he had time to stop for coffee in the morning.

He had grown beyond frustrated and the case had grown all the stranger.

Abby had managed to identify the substance that had been found on the corpse Jimmy and Ducky had gone to retrieve yesterday when this whole mess had been kicked off.

It turned out it was residue of the dead man drilling into the concreate at the construction site.

That had led to a body being found buried within the concrete which had lead to Jimmy needing to go assist Ducky with the body.

Y/N had felt bad for almost being grateful for it. She’d hoped that some time spent focusing on assisting Ducky would be good for Jimmy. She had to hope that perhaps his mentor would be able to soothe his self-loathing.

Ducky had attempted to reassure Jimmy, though Y/N wasn’t sure how successful he’d been.

Though Jimmy had at least appreciated Ducky’s comment that he’d much rather prefer for Jimmy “to stay alive and help me examine the dead…and I’m quite sure Y/N would appreciate you staying alive as well.”

The team had arrested a suspect who’d confessed of killing the dead man, but the only problem is it wasn’t the same man who had shot at Jimmy.

That had placed them back at square one.

Y/N knew that Gibbs had checked up on Jimmy that night. She’d tried her best to soothe Jimmy, but he’d insisted he just needed a moment to himself to send an email to his mom.

So she’d left him alone in Autopsy feeling at a loss as to what to do for him. Gibbs had gone to see him then.

She wasn’t sure what Gibbs had said to him, but Jimmy did seem a little lighter when he came up to the lab insisting he was ready to go home and get some rest.

It was now a new day and though Jimmy felt that he hadn’t gotten as much rest as he’d hoped he would.

He’d spent most of his morning going back and forth between Autopsy and the lab. Y/N had at least managed to be in a better state of mind and could actually assist Abby a little bit today.

She had turned her attention to Jimmy though when it had become clear he was still struggling.

He had made the foolish choice to ask Ziva what he should have done if he’d actually managed to catch up the guy who’d shot at him. Ziva had offered to show him how he could disarm the man. This of course had wound up with Ziva quite easily overtaking him only making him feel less capable.

Y/N sighed watching Ziva shove Jimmy’s face down against the desk his arm secured tightly behind his back twisted painfully.

This was apparently what happened when she left her boyfriend alone so she could go get some much needed caffeine from the vending machine. He’d been in Autopsy when she’d left him. She had only caught sight of him since she had to pass the bullpen area on the way to the vending machines. She spoke nodding to Ziva. “Could you not break him please.”

Ziva released him a soft sigh leaving her. “Perhaps it is best that you did not apprehend the shooter.”

Jimmy caught sight of the scrabble board pieces Ziva and McGee had been playing with the day before an idea hitting him.

Y/N stood by fascinated as she watched him push through the pieces across the table. “Okay the first two letters of the first name started with an M and an I. The last name started with an S U S. And the next letter was…”

He began to flounder a bit as Gibbs watched him he struggling to remember the next letter.

McGee entered the room carrying a photo of a printed passport. “Republic of Yugoslavia.”

Jimmy nodded his head pointed at the photo. “That’s the passport”

McGee filled Gibbs in pointing how this helped tie in with the case.

Ziva helped Jimmy discover the remainder of the letters Jimmy finally coming up with the name.

The team was able to track the name discovering more clues about the case Jimmy looking happier than Y/N had seen him in days.

The team was able to pull up a picture of the dead man’s brother, Jimmy staring at it as Director Vance demanded to know if this was the man who’d tried to shoot him.

Jimmy spoke “I don’t know…I-I he didn’t have a beard when I saw him. I’d have to see him in person.”

Tony was fast to speak earning a glare from Y/N. “Yeah that worked out real well for you last time didn’t it Palmer?”

Gibbs didn’t give Tony time to make more comments barking at McGee to run the man’s address.

Jimmy watched as the team gathered their guns ready to take the man in.

He moved to follow the team as they headed out Gibbs turning to stop him. “No, You stay.”

“I can identify him.” Jimmy exclaimed.

Gibbs wasn’t hearing it though. “You will, when we bring him back.”

Y/N placed a hand on Jimmy’s arm as they watched the team leave Jimmy wanting so badly to follow them.

He had failed to be brave the first time. He wanted to prove himself.

He sighed a crazy idea entering his brain. He glanced down at Y/N already knowing she wouldn’t allow it.

He took a deep breath making his choice. He had to do this, even if it meant groveling to her later.

He had to do this.

He spoke the words falling from him hating that he had to lie. “I need fresh air.”

She frowned watching him pull from her heading to the elevators. She moved to follow him but he turned doing his best to hide his true intentions. “I’m fine, I just need a moment to clear my head. I’ll be right back.”

She frowned even more as she watched him walk away.

She had a bad feeling in her gut. Gibbs always said to listen to your gut.

…………………………………………………………………………

Y/N was equally livid and worried sick.

Jimmy wasn’t answering his cell and he’d clearly not just gone out to get fresh air as he’d told her. She maybe had been tempted to have Abby trace his cell…but that seemed to be crossing over into crazy girlfriend territory.

She knew exactly where he’d gone though. She couldn’t believe it.

Ducky watched her pace down in Autopsy she ranting. “I can’t believe him. He’s going to get himself killed.”

Ducky let out a soft sigh silently reminding himself to have a long talk with Jimmy about how hell had no fury like a woman’s scorn. Jimmy should be warned that it probably wasn’t advisable to piss off the woman who knew where you slept. Ducky wondered if perhaps he should see if Gibbs could have a talk with young Mr. Palmer about pissing off the women in your life. Though he had a feeling Gibbs’ divorce record didn’t place him in the best place to give Jimmy relationship advice. No, it was probably best that Ducky be the one to warn Jimmy that pissing off your girlfriend would most likely end badly.

Ducky spoke trying to soothe her worries and hide the amusement from his voice. “He’s with Gibbs. I’m sure Mr. Palmer will be fine.”

Y/N let out a huff crossing her arms as she spoke. “If Gibbs doesn’t kill him then I will.”

Ducky chuckled at this fast to speak. “You would miss him if you killed him. Besides, I’d very much prefer that you don’t murder him. I don’t want to go through the trouble of hiring a replacement for him.”

Y/N couldn’t hide the small smile on her lips. She leaned against Ducky’s desk a soft sigh leaving her the smile dropping from her features. “I think he feels like he has something to prove. He keeps comparing himself to Gibbs and Tony and what he thinks they would have done. I told him I don’t want him to be anyone but him…but he doesn’t see it.”

Ducky nodded his head quick to reassure her repeating the words he’d said to Jimmy the night before. “Mr. Palmer has it in him to die a hero’s death. I have advised him that I would prefer he stay alive and help me in examining the dead. I also pointed out that you would prefer he stay alive.”

Y/N spoke the words falling from her. “I would…I don’t know what I’d do if I lost him. It scares me…how afraid I am of losing him. I know we haven’t been together for that long, but things between us have moved so quickly…and as much as it scares me I could never go back to the way my life was before he was in it. I just…I could have lost him and it terrifies me.”

“Fear of losing him should be a good thing. It’s a sign you care a great deal for him.” Ducky pointed out looking up from the body he’d been prepping for the funeral home to come retrieve.

Y/N sighed remembering the words she’d said to Abby, her cries that Jimmy could have died before she got the chance to tell him how she felt. “I do.”

Ducky spoke remembering the conversation he’d had with Jimmy about this very subject. “And he cares a great deal for you. He worries about you. He doesn’t want to pry into matters you’d rather forget. He was very outspoken about his concern. He didn’t give me any details…but from what I’ve understood he suspects that love hasn’t always been kind to you. He’s admitted that much to me.”

She frowned slightly at this information. Jimmy had come to Ducky about this? She wanted to be angry that he’d gone off and blabbed to Ducky about her past…but then again she knew Jimmy didn’t know enough details about her past to blab them to anyone.

Ducky spoke again erasing any irritation she might feel over his prior comment. “He is determined to show you that love can be kind. You just have to have some patience with him my dear. Mr. Palmer’s biggest fault is his heart. It’s too big for his body and he tends to let it make most of his choices. You can set him straight when he needs it, but try to show him some forgiveness too. Like I said, he does care for you a great deal.”

Y/N stared down at her hands clasping them in her lap part of her wanting to spill everything to Ducky, all the ways love had been so unkind to her.

She knew that Ducky wasn’t the one who needed to hear it though. Jimmy was the one.

She didn’t have a chance to focus on the thought for too long as Jimmy entered Autopsy looking a little sheepish.

She made her way over to him taking him by shock as she wrapped her arms around him holding him tight.

He’d expected to be screamed at…a hug was the last thing he expected to walk into.

Y/N spoke a heavy sigh leaving her. “I am so mad at you right now.”

Jimmy felt a weak smile cross his lips he holding her just as tight. “I know. I had to do it though.”

Ducky spoke deciding to give the two some privacy giving Jimmy’s back a pat as he walked by. “We’ll talk later Mr. Palmer.”

Y/N didn’t speak until Ducky was gone. “What were you thinking?”

Jimmy sighed deciding to just be honest. “At first I just wanted to watch…I had to see them take him in. I needed closure.”

He paused speaking again deciding he might have to break the entire story to her slowly. “They got him. He was taken in.”

He pulled back from her taking her hand in his placing it against his cheek as he tried to reassure her. “I’m fine…I’m all in one piece see…my car isn’t doing too hot, but I’m okay.”

“What happened to your car?” Y/N exclaimed cringing at this information her mind jumping to the worst-case scenarios.

Jimmy gave her a sheepish smile as he spoke. “I maybe rammed it into the guy’s car…I had to stop him and it was convenient. He was going to get away if I didn’t do something…I couldn’t let him get away again.”

Y/N sighed rolling her eyes slightly. He was insane, she’d fallen in love with a crazy person.

She spoke the words falling from her. “You’re out of your mind…I’m so mad right now…You lied to me.”

Jimmy cringed deciding it was time to apologize. “I know…I’m sorry. I knew you’d never let me do it…or you’d try to come with me…I couldn’t risk placing you in harms way. I needed to be there.”

She sighed remembering Ducky’s advice to her. Forgiveness. She spoke stroking his cheek the words leaving her. “I am proud of you.”

Jimmy smiled at this the words washing over him making him feel warm. “Really?”

She sighed again a small smile crossing her lips. “I can be angry and proud at the same time.”

She took a deep breath remembering Abby’s words to her. She could still tell Jimmy how she felt.

She spoke the words spilling from her. “I love you.”

Jimmy stared down at her almost sure he’d misheard her.

She cleared her throat fearing his silence meant the worst. She spoke up trying to erase any awkwardness she’d created. “You don’t have to say anything back. I just…I wanted you to know. I understand if you’re not there yet. I just, I can’t keep it in me. I love you Jimmy.”

She was taken by shock as his lips pressed to hers the kiss impassioned. He pulled from it the words leaving him without any hesitation. “I love you too. I love you.”

She buried her face against his chest as he began to rock her in place both of them soaking in the words between them.

She spoke her voice muffled against his chest. “I can’t believe I said I love you for the first time in Autopsy. There’s a dead guy on the table, like twelve feet away from us.”

Jimmy was fast to speak a small laugh leaving him. “It’s kind of odd…but I think it’s appropriate.”

She frowned not quite getting what could be appropriate about this.

He spoke clearing up his statement. “I saw you for the first time in this room. I think I knew I loved you even then.”

She felt the smile cross her lips it hitting her that there was nothing painful about this.

Maybe Ducky was right. Jimmy was going to show her that love wasn’t painful.

#NCIS #jimmy palmer #jimmy palmerxreader #ncis fanfiction #jimmy palmer fanfiction #crush series

[tumbleweedpalmer]

Nothing Painful: Jimmy Palmer X Reader

 Another addition to the Crush Series. The previous chapters can be found HERE

In this chapter the search continues for who attempted to shoot Jimmy. Jimmy is left dealing with his insecurities as Y/N struggles to comfort him. Y/N is forced to face her own fears in the process. Some spoilers for Season 5 Episode 17.

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                       As the day wore on Y/N didn’t hear anything from Jimmy nor any news about him. It had been hours and the workday was close to ending. The sun had already set outside, but still there had been no word of how Jimmy was doing.

As the hours ticked by Y/N found herself growing gradually more and more anxious.

McGee had taken some sympathy on her at the very least reassuring her that Jimmy was still being interviewed but was just having some issues recalling every detail about what had happened. He’d reassured her that Jimmy would be fine.

Y/N wasn’t sure she believed it though.  Jimmy had been at this interview for hours now. Did it usually take this long? She wasn’t sure how long giving a statement usually took someone?

Evidence had been brought over from the crime scene and now sat in Abby’s lab, but Y/N found herself unable to feel as though she was of any use when it came to actually assisting Abby with any of it.

Thankfully, Abby had been fast to reassure Y/N that she could handle it on her own. Though Y/N had a feeling that when Abby had spotted Y/N’s shaking hands that she’d decided to keep Y/N far from the evidence for now.

Y/N wasn’t sure if she felt relieved or frustrated by her inability to focus on her work. Part of her wanted to dive right into the evidence and work as long as it took until whoever had committed the murder and had most likely attempted to shoot Jimmy was apprehended. She felt frustrated that she was so unable to do anything useful at the moment. She’d been hired to help Abby after all, and it seemed that she was incapable of managing that simple task.

The other part of her understood she’d be absolutely useless when it came to analyzing any of the evidence even if she tried. She understood it was probably for the best that she didn’t work until she could give it her all. She wasn’t sure she was in the right state of mind to be of any assistance to Abby. She was not sure her brain was capable of even processing anything at the moment other than an overwhelming sense of dread and anxiety. She was almost thankful that no one was forcing her to attempt to compartmentalize her feelings at the moment and focus on work.

She kept replying the words she’d cried to Abby earlier in the day. “He could have died, and I would have avoided telling him how I feel. “

The thought would not leave her brain.

Y/N found herself pacing around Abby’s lab her mind caught in an endless loop going over and over all the what ifs.

If Jimmy had been any slower at dropping to the ground, he would have been shot. What if he’d been shot? Would it be a near fatal injury or a minor one? If he had been shot would she be sitting up at a hospital right now hoping he would recover? If he had been shot and killed on the spot then what would she have done? Would she be sitting mourning him as he lie dead down in the morgue drawer in Autopsy? Would she have to sit here with the knowledge that he was lying cold and lifeless waiting for Ducky or whoever was unfortunate enough to have to perform an autopsy on him?

She kept thinking about all the bodies she’d witnessed lying dead down in Autopsy any time she dropped by to visit with Ducky and Jimmy or drop by a piece of evidence. It had never bothered her before because she’d never allowed herself to focus on them. She’d viewed them the same way she’d viewed the bodies she’d seen on her grandfather’s embalming table. She’d told herself that they weren’t her loved ones, and it wasn’t her grief.

She knew though that she wouldn’t be able to make that separation in her mind if it was Jimmy on that autopsy table.

The thoughts made her feel sick to her stomach.

She couldn’t stop herself from thinking back on how she’d been so hesitant when Jimmy had first confessed his feelings for her. He had to try so hard to convince her to just give him a chance and to let go of those fears.

She could still remember his promise that if everything fell apart that he’d be right there to fix it with her. She’d been so afraid then.

She had been so sure that if she gave him a chance then it would only end in disaster. It seemed like most things in her life ended in disaster, so why should Jimmy be any different?

She’d been so wrong though. Jimmy had gone above and beyond in proving to her that things between them could work.

He’d been amazing right from the start. It was in all the sweet little things he’d done for her thus far in their relationship. Like how he still gave her rides to work in the mornings because he knew her car was finicky at best and he hated the thought of her car breaking down on the way into work. It was the tea and the fresh blueberry scone he’d brought her when he’d known she was stressed out trying to help Abby perform maintenance on the variety of equipment down in the lab. It was in how he bought her a bouquet of sunflowers on their second date because he remembered overhearing her talking to Abby about how she thought that roses were pretty but overrated and she much preferred sunflowers or wildflowers to roses.

It was in how he’d been so quick to hold her hand right from that very first date onwards. He was always so eager to show her some sort of affection even in the tiniest act. It was in how he was so shy about kissing her at first, almost as though he was frightened that kissing her too often would cause her to pull from him. He’d confessed that his past girlfriends had found him to be clingy at times, and she’d had to reassure him that she didn’t find him to be clingy. He’d been a little nervous about getting too affectionate on those first few dates, aside from holding her hand and kissing if she initiated it. That had changed of course after those first few dates when it had become clear to him that she wasn’t going anywhere. After that it had seemed that he couldn’t stop kissing her, and she never wanted him to stop.

There was also the way he had seemed so shy the first time she had slept over at his apartment. He had offered to take the sofa, but she’d insisted that they share a bed. She could still remember how he had seemed so surprised when she’d cuddled up against him, but the smile on his face when it had happened had made her want to cuddle him all the more. She had felt so safe sleeping by his side that night and she’d been relieved to do so practically every night since then. When he’d held her against him, she’d felt as though nothing, and no one could touch her. She knew that most people probably didn’t look at Jimmy Palmer and think of him as a protector, but Y/N couldn’t help but to trust that he’d do anything it took to protect her if it came down to it. He had proven that when he’d gotten into that fist fight over her, hadn’t he?

The sweetness of their relationship had continued in all those phone calls and exchanged text messages they had had when they’d both gone their separate ways to visit their families over the Christmas holiday. He would text her good morning each morning and would call her every night when he went to bed. It had become enough of an occurrence that her grandfather had pestered her over how she was smiling at her cell phone and text messages in it more than once.

Jimmy had been so patient with her letting her call all the shots when it came to intimacy. He’d not once pushed her for more than she was willing to give him. He had followed her lead no questions asked.

She kept thinking about last night, the way he had looked at her as they made love for the first time. He had stared at her with such devotion. She had never had anyone look at her that way before. It had made her feel so vulnerable and so incredibly worshiped all at once.

The simple fact was that if Jimmy Palmer had died today, Y/N knew she would never be okay again.

The thought both unnerved her and comforted her. She wasn’t accustomed to depending on someone that way. She’d had to learn to take care of herself at a young age.

Her parents’ divorce had been rough and then her mother had died so suddenly, and she’d been left with a father who hadn’t wanted any part in raising his children.

Even as her grandparents had taken in her brothers and her and loved them and raised them the best they could, Y/N had still felt the need to be wary of becoming too dependent on others.

Her father’s abandonment hadn’t helped her learn to place her trust in others. He’d gone off and started his own family after dumping her brothers and her off with his parents. It had been as though he wanted to have a clean slate, a perfect cookie cutter family that didn’t consist of Y/N or her brothers.

Occasionally he’d made contact with Y/N and her brothers, though that usually just resulted in arguments and dysfunction.

Y/N had tried in the past to make an honest effort to let people in and trust in them.

The few times Y/N let her guard down it had only resulted in pain though.

Her relationships had always reinforced the idea that she would only get hurt when she let her guard down. The men she’d attracted had taught her far too much about pain.

Jimmy was the first person who had ever shown her that love didn’t have to be painful. She’d found comfort with him.

She knew that if anything ever happened to him then she would never recover.

Y/N was shaken from these thoughts as Tony spoke up the man having watched her pace around the lab long enough. He had come down to pester Abby about how far they’d gotten with the evidence and had been watching her assistant pace the lab wringing her hands together for a long while now. “Y/N I get that you’re freaking out right now, but enough with the pacing already.”

She stared up at him a small frown crossing her features not missing the sour look Abby sent Tony. Abby was quick to speak trying to smooth things over. “What he means to say is that you should sit down and try to take a deep breath. You’re going to make yourself sick if you keep it up. Jimmy is going to be okay.”

Tony nodded in agreement another comment flying form his lips. “Yeah, Palmer will be fine, the autopsy gremlin will be back down in the basement avoiding direct sunlight come tomorrow.”

Y/N was the one who sent Tony a sour look this time a scoff escaping her lips as she spoke ignoring his remark. “I can’t believe this is happening. None of it feels real. I keep thinking it’s a bad dream. I feel so useless right now. I cannot focus long enough to do my job. I hate feeling this useless. I won’t be able to relax until this is all over and the bastard that tried to kill him is either sitting in jail or is dead.”

Abby was quick to speak trying her best to reassure her. “And we’re going to make sure that happens.”

The conversation didn’t have a chance to resume as the lab doors opened an exhausted Jimmy finally appearing.

Y/N was fast to rush over to him her arms encircling his waist she burying her face against his chest. He embraced her just as tightly taking a deep breath taking in the usual scent that surrounded her.

He’d begun to associate the smell with comfort. It was a mixture of scents; her floral perfume, a trace of the fabric softener she used, the sweet scent of the body lotion she used combined with the fruity smell of the shampoo and body wash she bathed in. The combined smells made him feel at ease at the moment when he very much felt so out of control.

He felt his throat tighten he frustrated and exhausted. “Director Vance is sending me home. I have to come back to the lab first thing tomorrow and see if Abby and you can help me draw a sketch so we can get a bolo out.”

Y/N was fast to reach up her hand pressing to his cheek concern washing over her as he spoke again struggling to explain what had taken him so long. “I can’t make my brain work right now. It’s just…It all happened so fast.”

She was quick to speak wanting to offer reassurance. “It’s been a long day. I’m sure if you get some rest then things will seem clearer tomorrow.”

Abby was just as quick to reassure him agreeing with Y/N. “Y/N’s right. You’ve had a long day. We’ll start back up first thing tomorrow and figure this all out.”

Even Tony tried to offer some support thankfully dropping his usual sarcasm. “Yeah Palmer, just go get some rest.”

Jimmy let out a soft sigh the same words leaving him that he’d just said the Director Vance just moments ago. “I’m sorry I couldn’t catch him.”

Y/N furrowed her brow wanting so badly to point out the obvious. The man had a gun, what did Jimmy expect to do had he caught him?

She held it in though knowing this was the last thing he needed to hear at the moment. Instead she spoke running her thumb along his cheek soothingly. “Let’s go get you something to eat and go get some rest okay? Your place or mine?”

“Your place please.” Jimmy responded without any hesitation knowing he wanted nothing more at the moment other than to be at her apartment where he knew he could sink into her bed and escape from everything that had occurred today. The idea of being so surrounded by everything that reminded him of her sounded soothing.

He barely acknowledged the goodbyes or the worried looks thrown his way as he followed Y/N out of the lab and towards the elevators.

His brain was too caught in his own self-loathing. Why couldn’t he remember anything useful? Why couldn’t he have been braver?

…………………………………………………………

Jimmy had picked at his dinner barely eating any of it. Y/N had been insistent that they stop and get something to eat. He hadn’t eaten yet and she knew him well enough to know that his blood sugar would plummet if he didn’t eat dinner. He got lightheaded if he didn’t even have a small snack during the day. He couldn’t skip meals. He needed to eat, she’d pointed out, or he would feel awful later. He hadn’t had much of an appetite though and had wound up taking most of his sandwich and salad home in a to go container.

His mood hadn’t lifted even as he’d changed into his sleep clothes relieved they’d long ago begun leaving spare pieces of clothing at one another’s apartments.

Even being surrounded by all the things that reflected Y/N’s taste and personality through her décor hadn’t soothed his mind the way he hoped it would.

He had a distinct feeling that rest wouldn’t come to him easily even as he sank into Y/N’s bed warm underneath the pale blue sheets and the colorful purple and pink quilt she rested over the bed. Even the distinct memory that they’d made love in this bed the night before didn’t bring Jimmy the comfort or the warmth he’d needed.

He found himself sitting up in her bed staring at the closed bathroom door the sound of her shower running behind it becoming white noise as he tried his best to recall everything that had happened back at the crime scene.

It was as though someone had placed a block on his memory and he second guessed everything he thought he might have seen. The details weren’t as clear as they should be.

As hard as he tried his brain remained muddled and his thoughts remained unclear.

He was pulled from his thoughts as the bathroom door opened Y/N appearing. She’d taken one of his shirts needing to feel closer to him after all that had happened today. Though the t shirt was a little snugger across the curve of her body it was still a welcome sight.

She made her way towards the bed her hand running through her hair pushing it back relieved she’d at least remembered to blow dry her hair before bed she never enjoying sleeping with wet hair.

She climbed into bed beside him not taking the usual position they’d been taking at night, with her head resting over his chest, but Jimmy found himself being the one who rested against her allowing her to wrap her arms around him. He allowed his head to rest against her breasts as he clung to her.

She ran a soothing hand through his hair her voice soft. “I was afraid for you. When Ducky told me what happened…I almost collapsed. I just…I was so afraid and then it took so long for the interview to end and I was so scared for you, of what could have happened to you.”

He managed to speak squeezing her all the tighter. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so afraid…I don’t know how Tony or Ziva or McGee or Gibbs does it…blocks out the fear. I saw the gun and I was frozen in place. I don’t even know how I managed to drop to the ground in time…it all just happened so fast.”

He paused that self-loathing feeling washing over him again. “I should have been able to catch him. I let him get away.”

Y/N couldn’t hold back the words this time around. “Jimmy he had a gun. What would you have done had you caught him?”

Jimmy pulled from her his voice raising guilt and self-hatred coursing through him. He knew he sounded so harsh but he couldn’t stop himself from lashing out. “I know that, the gun was pointed at me! I know I’m not some badass NCIS agent like Tony or Gibbs, but I could have figured something out! I let him get away and now I can’t even remember a thing about him, and everyone can see how useless I am!”

He cringed as he noticed the way she jolted at his outburst. Now he’d gone and done it. He’d lashed out at the one person trying to provide him with reassurance. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t be anything like the crappy guys she’d dated before him, and here he was lashing out at her when she only wanted to help him.

He was being a jerk to the one person he didn’t want to disappoint.

He spoke curling back up against her not helping but to cling to her fearing he’d screwed everything up. His voice sounded weak as he squeezed her so tightly. “I’m sorry.”

She went back to running her hand through his hair giving him the mercy his brain told him he didn’t deserve. “It’s okay Jimmy.”

“It’s not okay. You were just trying to help. I shouldn’t have lashed out like that.” He insisted still feeling like hot garbage at the moment.

She spoke her comment only making him feel worse. “I’ve had far worse done to me Jimmy.”

“I wish you’d tell me about it.”  The response rolled through his head, but he kept it in not wanting to push her into anything, not right now when she just had to put up with him being so angry.

He instead chose to speak needing to say the words. “You didn’t deserve it. I can promise you that you didn’t deserve it.”

She squeezed him a little tighter not sure what to say in response to this. She instead decided to say the only thing she could think to say. “I don’t need you to be like Tony or Gibbs. I only need you to be you.”

He squeezed his eyes shut wanting to tell her that he wasn’t good enough. Didn’t she see it? He was so useless right now.

He only spoke his voice tight. “I know.”

She frowned unsure that his response indicated that he actually believed her. She was lost as to what she could do to make him believe though. It seemed as though it was so far beyond her. She didn’t know what to do.

She wanted so badly to make everything feel okay. She felt so powerless at the moment.

So, she did the only thing she could. She pressed a kiss to the top of his head her fingers continuing to run through his curls.

All she could do right now was hold him. She’d hold him as long as he needed it.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

It was clear that Jimmy’s head wasn’t any clearer the next morning. He’d done his best to describe the assailant he’d pursued to Abby as she worked up a sketch on her computer.

Y/N stood aside watching a frown crossing her features as she watched the image on Abby’s computer. It didn’t look like any man she’d ever seen. It barely looked human.

Jimmy spoke clearly not seeing what Abby and Y/N saw. “That’s it, that’s the guy.”

“That’s the guy?” Y/N asked confusion washing over her.

Abby was quick to add on. “That’s the guy who picked up the passport?”

Jimmy remained clueless as to what was wrong with the image. “Yeah. Why, what’s wrong?”

He stared back at the image on the screen Abby being the one who broke it to him. “So, you got shot at by Dr. Jekyll?”

Jimmy sighed still not seeing exactly what the girls saw. He spoke correcting Abby’s statement. “I think you’re referring to Mr. Hyde. Dr. Jekyll’s the one who invented the potion. But look yeah, you have captured his essence perfectly. His anger, his intent. His bloodlust.”

Y/N spoke being the one who choose to break the news to him this time. “His likeness?”

Abby provided agreeing. “His likeness, that’s kind of the point here.”

Y/N spoke trying to reassure him as he sighed moving away from the desk it clear that he was growing frustrated with the process. “Let’s start over. You said it was a white guy right, late middle aged?”

Jimmy rested his hands on his hips unable to stop himself from venting. “I couldn’t catch him, and now I can’t even identify him.”

Y/N was quick to move making her way over to him placing a hand against his back as he began to pace. He spoke deciding to just come out and say it. “I’m sure Gibbs thinks I’m completely useless.”

Y/N was fast to respond. “You aren’t useless. You could never be useless.”

Abby stood up just as fast to try to reassure him. “No, Jimmy. You chased a crazy guy with a gun. You’re a stud muffin…not saying that to hit on you, I promise Y/N…but seriously Jimmy, you’re an iron fist with a velvet glove. You’re baby Gibbs.”

Y/N smiled slightly at Abby’s declaration. She spoke as Jimmy glanced at her for confirmation. “Definitely, it was such a Gibbs move.”

The comment did manage to make a small smile cross Jimmy’s lips though it came out a little weaker than his usual smiles. “Really?”

Both women spoke fast to agree. “Really, now come on let’s try again.”

Jimmy let them lead him back to the computer he fast to speak as he regathered his thoughts. “Try making the bridge of the nose flatter.”

……………………..

The next few times he tried to build a sketch were just as unsuccessful as the first. He was quickly growing frustrated enough that Y/N had to step in and convince him to take a walk with her.

His mood continued to lower as the day wore on and he found himself nowhere closer to providing useful information as he’d been the night before.

He’d been unable to even remember what the passport he’d seen looked like. All he could remember was that the passport was dark blue.

Apparently though dark blue was the most popular passport color in the world. Remembering that the passport was blue narrowed it down to about 72 passports.

McGee had the bright idea to try hypnotization to see if it could trigger Jimmy’s memory. Y/N had left to get lunch for everyone while they tried that route.

She was a little thrown off by the awkward energy in the lab when she returned with lunch.

She spoke frowning at the look of discomfort on Abby and McGee’s faces. “Did we learn anything?”

McGee spoke glancing at Jimmy that look of discomfort still across his face. “Well, we learned something about your boyfriend.”

Jimmy frowned just as confused as Y/N. He spoke an exasperated sigh leaving him. “They won’t tell me what happened.”

McGee glanced down at Y/N’s red ballet flats and back at Jimmy the odd action only furthering Y/N’s confusion. Abby was fast to speak a groan escaping her. “You don’t want to know…trust me.”

She turned the lights back on going to take the Caf Pow Y/N had brought her.

Jimmy was fast to speak his voice frantic. “Wait, we’re just giving up?”

Abby spoke shaking her head. “We aren’t giving up Jimmy.”

McGee was fast to add on. “We’re moving on.”

Jimmy shook his head frantically. No, no, No I have to do this. Please, please try again.”

Abby rolled her eyes flipping the lights back off praying Jimmy didn’t mention shoes this time around.

…………………………………………….

The second round of hypnotizing was unsuccessful. Jimmy’s brain had latched on to the word “shot” and had instead described the man who gave him two shots of espresso on the days Y/N and he had time to stop for coffee in the morning.

He had grown beyond frustrated and the case had grown all the stranger.

Abby had managed to identify the substance that had been found on the corpse Jimmy and Ducky had gone to retrieve yesterday when this whole mess had been kicked off.

It turned out it was residue of the dead man drilling into the concreate at the construction site.

That had led to a body being found buried within the concrete which had lead to Jimmy needing to go assist Ducky with the body.

Y/N had felt bad for almost being grateful for it. She’d hoped that some time spent focusing on assisting Ducky would be good for Jimmy. She had to hope that perhaps his mentor would be able to soothe his self-loathing.

Ducky had attempted to reassure Jimmy, though Y/N wasn’t sure how successful he’d been.

Though Jimmy had at least appreciated Ducky’s comment that he’d much rather prefer for Jimmy “to stay alive and help me examine the dead…and I’m quite sure Y/N would appreciate you staying alive as well.”

The team had arrested a suspect who’d confessed of killing the dead man, but the only problem is it wasn’t the same man who had shot at Jimmy.

That had placed them back at square one.

Y/N knew that Gibbs had checked up on Jimmy that night. She’d tried her best to soothe Jimmy, but he’d insisted he just needed a moment to himself to send an email to his mom.

So she’d left him alone in Autopsy feeling at a loss as to what to do for him. Gibbs had gone to see him then.

She wasn’t sure what Gibbs had said to him, but Jimmy did seem a little lighter when he came up to the lab insisting he was ready to go home and get some rest.

It was now a new day and though Jimmy felt that he hadn’t gotten as much rest as he’d hoped he would.

He’d spent most of his morning going back and forth between Autopsy and the lab. Y/N had at least managed to be in a better state of mind and could actually assist Abby a little bit today.

She had turned her attention to Jimmy though when it had become clear he was still struggling.

He had made the foolish choice to ask Ziva what he should have done if he’d actually managed to catch up the guy who’d shot at him. Ziva had offered to show him how he could disarm the man. This of course had wound up with Ziva quite easily overtaking him only making him feel less capable.

Y/N sighed watching Ziva shove Jimmy’s face down against the desk his arm secured tightly behind his back twisted painfully.

This was apparently what happened when she left her boyfriend alone so she could go get some much needed caffeine from the vending machine. He’d been in Autopsy when she’d left him. She had only caught sight of him since she had to pass the bullpen area on the way to the vending machines.  She spoke nodding to Ziva. “Could you not break him please.”

Ziva released him a soft sigh leaving her. “Perhaps it is best that you did not apprehend the shooter.”

Jimmy caught sight of the scrabble board pieces Ziva and McGee had been playing with the day before an idea hitting him.

Y/N stood by fascinated as she watched him push through the pieces across the table. “Okay the first two letters of the first name started with an M and an I. The last name started with an S U S. And the next letter was…”

He began to flounder a bit as Gibbs watched him he struggling to remember the next letter.

McGee entered the room carrying a photo of a printed passport. “Republic of Yugoslavia.”

Jimmy nodded his head pointed at the photo. “That’s the passport”

McGee filled Gibbs in pointing how this helped tie in with the case.

Ziva helped Jimmy discover the remainder of the letters Jimmy finally coming up with the name.

The team was able to track the name discovering more clues about the case Jimmy looking happier than Y/N had seen him in days.

The team was able to pull up a picture of the dead man’s brother, Jimmy staring at it as Director Vance demanded to know if this was the man who’d tried to shoot him.

Jimmy spoke “I don’t know…I-I he didn’t have a beard when I saw him. I’d have to see him in person.”

Tony was fast to speak earning a glare from Y/N. “Yeah that worked out real well for you last time didn’t it Palmer?”

Gibbs didn’t give Tony time to make more comments barking at McGee to run the man’s address.

Jimmy watched as the team gathered their guns ready to take the man in.

He moved to follow the team as they headed out Gibbs turning to stop him. “No, You stay.”

“I can identify him.” Jimmy exclaimed.

Gibbs wasn’t hearing it though. “You will, when we bring him back.”

Y/N placed a hand on Jimmy’s arm as they watched the team leave Jimmy wanting so badly to follow them.

He had failed to be brave the first time. He wanted to prove himself.

He sighed a crazy idea entering his brain. He glanced down at Y/N already knowing she wouldn’t allow it.

He took a deep breath making his choice. He had to do this, even if it meant groveling to her later.

He had to do this.

He spoke the words falling from him hating that he had to lie. “I need fresh air.”

She frowned watching him pull from her heading to the elevators. She moved to follow him but he turned doing his best to hide his true intentions. “I’m fine, I just need a moment to clear my head. I’ll be right back.”

She frowned even more as she watched him walk away.

She had a bad feeling in her gut. Gibbs always said to listen to your gut.

…………………………………………………………………………

Y/N was equally livid and worried sick.

Jimmy wasn’t answering his cell and he’d clearly not just gone out to get fresh air as he’d told her. She maybe had been tempted to have Abby trace his cell…but that seemed to be crossing over into crazy girlfriend territory.

She knew exactly where he’d gone though. She couldn’t believe it.

Ducky watched her pace down in Autopsy she ranting. “I can’t believe him. He’s going to get himself killed.”

Ducky let out a soft sigh silently reminding himself to have a long talk with Jimmy about how hell had no fury like a woman’s scorn. Jimmy should be warned that it probably wasn’t advisable to piss off the woman who knew where you slept. Ducky wondered if perhaps he should see if Gibbs could have a talk with young Mr. Palmer about pissing off the women in your life. Though he had a feeling Gibbs’ divorce record didn’t place him in the best place to give Jimmy relationship advice. No, it was probably best that Ducky be the one to warn Jimmy that pissing off your girlfriend would most likely end badly.

Ducky spoke trying to soothe her worries and hide the amusement from his voice. “He’s with Gibbs. I’m sure Mr. Palmer will be fine.”

Y/N let out a huff crossing her arms as she spoke. “If Gibbs doesn’t kill him then I will.”

Ducky chuckled at this fast to speak. “You would miss him if you killed him. Besides, I’d very much prefer that you don’t murder him. I don’t want to go through the trouble of hiring a replacement for him.”

Y/N couldn’t hide the small smile on her lips. She leaned against Ducky’s desk a soft sigh leaving her the smile dropping from her features. “I think he feels like he has something to prove. He keeps comparing himself to Gibbs and Tony and what he thinks they would have done. I told him I don’t want him to be anyone but him…but he doesn’t see it.”

Ducky nodded his head quick to reassure her repeating the words he’d said to Jimmy the night before. “Mr. Palmer has it in him to die a hero’s death. I have advised him that I would prefer he stay alive and help me in examining the dead. I also pointed out that you would prefer he stay alive.”

Y/N spoke the words falling from her. “I would…I don’t know what I’d do if I lost him. It scares me…how afraid I am of losing him. I know we haven’t been together for that long, but things between us have moved so quickly…and as much as it scares me I could never go back to the way my life was before he was in it. I just…I could have lost him and it terrifies me.”

“Fear of losing him should be a good thing. It’s a sign you care a great deal for him.” Ducky pointed out looking up from the body he’d been prepping for the funeral home to come retrieve.

Y/N sighed remembering the words she’d said to Abby, her cries that Jimmy could have died before she got the chance to tell him how she felt. “I do.”

Ducky spoke remembering the conversation he’d had with Jimmy about this very subject. “And he cares a great deal for you. He worries about you. He doesn’t want to pry into matters you’d rather forget. He was very outspoken about his concern. He didn’t give me any details…but from what I’ve understood he suspects that love hasn’t always been kind to you. He’s admitted that much to me.”

She frowned slightly at this information. Jimmy had come to Ducky about this? She wanted to be angry that he’d gone off and blabbed to Ducky about her past…but then again she knew Jimmy didn’t know enough details about her past to blab them to anyone.

Ducky spoke again erasing any irritation she might feel over his prior comment. “He is determined to show you that love can be kind. You just have to have some patience with him my dear. Mr. Palmer’s biggest fault is his heart. It’s too big for his body and he tends to let it make most of his choices. You can set him straight when he needs it, but try to show him some forgiveness too. Like I said, he does care for you a great deal.”

Y/N stared down at her hands clasping them in her lap part of her wanting to spill everything to Ducky, all the ways love had been so unkind to her.

She knew that Ducky wasn’t the one who needed to hear it though. Jimmy was the one.

She didn’t have a chance to focus on the thought for too long as Jimmy entered Autopsy looking a little sheepish.

She made her way over to him taking him by shock as she wrapped her arms around him holding him tight.

He’d expected to be screamed at…a hug was the last thing he expected to walk into.

Y/N spoke a heavy sigh leaving her. “I am so mad at you right now.”

Jimmy felt a weak smile cross his lips he holding her just as tight. “I know. I had to do it though.”

Ducky spoke deciding to give the two some privacy giving Jimmy’s back a pat as he walked by. “We’ll talk later Mr. Palmer.”

Y/N didn’t speak until Ducky was gone. “What were you thinking?”

Jimmy sighed deciding to just be honest. “At first I just wanted to watch…I had to see them take him in. I needed closure.”

He paused speaking again deciding he might have to break the entire story to her slowly. “They got him. He was taken in.”

He pulled back from her taking her hand in his placing it against his cheek as he tried to reassure her. “I’m fine…I’m all in one piece see…my car isn’t doing too hot, but I’m okay.”

“What happened to your car?” Y/N exclaimed cringing at this information her mind jumping to the worst-case scenarios.

Jimmy gave her a sheepish smile as he spoke. “I maybe rammed it into the guy’s car…I had to stop him and it was convenient. He was going to get away if I didn’t do something…I couldn’t let him get away again.”

Y/N sighed rolling her eyes slightly. He was insane, she’d fallen in love with a crazy person.

She spoke the words falling from her. “You’re out of your mind…I’m so mad right now…You lied to me.”

Jimmy cringed deciding it was time to apologize. “I know…I’m sorry. I knew you’d never let me do it…or you’d try to come with me…I couldn’t risk placing you in harms way. I needed to be there.”

She sighed remembering Ducky’s advice to her. Forgiveness. She spoke stroking his cheek the words leaving her. “I am proud of you.”

Jimmy smiled at this the words washing over him making him feel warm. “Really?”

She sighed again a small smile crossing her lips. “I can be angry and proud at the same time.”

She took a deep breath remembering Abby’s words to her. She could still tell Jimmy how she felt.

She spoke the words spilling from her. “I love you.”

Jimmy stared down at her almost sure he’d misheard her.

She cleared her throat fearing his silence meant the worst. She spoke up trying to erase any awkwardness she’d created. “You don’t have to say anything back. I just…I wanted you to know. I understand if you’re not there yet. I just, I can’t keep it in me. I love you Jimmy.”

She was taken by shock as his lips pressed to hers the kiss impassioned. He pulled from it the words leaving him without any hesitation. “I love you too. I love you.”

She buried her face against his chest as he began to rock her in place both of them soaking in the words between them.

She spoke her voice muffled against his chest. “I can’t believe I said I love you for the first time in Autopsy. There’s a dead guy on the table, like twelve feet away from us.”

Jimmy was fast to speak a small laugh leaving him. “It’s kind of odd…but I think it’s appropriate.”

She frowned not quite getting what could be appropriate about this.

He spoke clearing up his statement. “I saw you for the first time in this room. I think I knew I loved you even then.”

She felt the smile cross her lips it hitting her that there was nothing painful about this.

Maybe Ducky was right. Jimmy was going to show her that love wasn’t painful.

#Jimmy Palmer #Jimmy Palmer X Reader #NCIS #Crush Series #Fanfiction #NCIS fanfiction #jimmy palmer fanfiction

[sorrowful-prince-pelleas]

I really love how Salem works well as just a love letter to Lovecraft’s mythos but also works as almost an inside joke to the players, as well as a commentary on sin and an idea of a play.

The atmosphere, from the get-go, is dreary and oppressive - just like in Lovecraft’s own stories, Salem is filled with discomfort, cruel people, and ominous people. While this isn’t necessarily a sign of the presence of Lovecraftian beings being present, it still serves as a Lovecraftian location. But it gets more Lovecraft-referencing in the names. If you’re familiar with Lovecraft’s mythos, the names of Lavinia Whateley and Randolph Carter are probably familiar - they’re characters from The Dunwich Horror and several short stories (Most notably The Silver Key and Through the Gates of the Silver Key) respectively.

Both characters, in turn, have a connection to Yog-Sototh - an older Lavinia has children with Yog, and Carter meets Yog-Sototh in “Through the Gates of the Silver Key”. Carter is also associated with the Silver Key itself - an ancient artifact that unlocks time and space and is in his possession. From the get-go, it should be obvious that Yog-Sototh, the All-in-One and the One-in-All, is going to be present - because why else would the only Lovecraftian names used come from stories with Yog-Sototh?

All of the aforementioned plays into Raum’s plan, and Abby’s role - she is, due to her nature of being consciously unaware of her deeds in life, but subconsciously aware and desiring to be punished for her sins, a perfect vessel for Raum to enact his play.

The story in general has a lot of focus placed on plays - which is very fitting. At it’s core, plays are representations of stories - like any other literary medium, they can be analyzed and interpreted. They have themes, and characters that work around those themes. They say things about the human condition, and reflect their authors’ ideals and views - even comedies hold a great deal of wisdom and understanding of social norms and ideals.

In that way, Salem is in some ways a story about plays - we not only put on plays (both thematically relevant ones, like that of Solomon and Queen of Sheba and even plays that are more literal in their role in the story (a middle finger to Hopkins) and their messaging (like the “we shouldn’t burn witches” conclusion of the Jeanne sisters play.))

And in turn, Salem itself is a play, written by Raum. Raum creates a cast of characters (the Puritans) that desire punishment in the same way as Abby, and invites guests to play certain parts. The guests are all Raum’s attempts to bring Abby to further despair - from giving her a friend that she will lose in Lavinia, to Guda to serve as Abby’s hope (so that when Guda died, to maximize Lavinia’s despair.)

Robin Hood - a “one of many actors” who isn’t the real Robin Hood but was cast as him - is the first person able to recognize and understand this, because he himself is an actor brought in to play a role - both in Salem and in general as a heroic spirit. In general, the 8 outsiders are all brought in because of their unconscious desire for punishment and their own guilt. They might not be consciously aware of their own feelings of guilt, like Hopkin’s desire for punishment for his injustices, or they might be explicitely aware of their guilt, like Lavinia feeling guilty for being unable to serve her family as a medium to Yog-Sototh, or Guda feeling guilt for abandoning people to die in the singularities.

This leads all the outsiders to want to confront their own guilt - and in turn, Abby and Raum would be able to offer salvation. However, as said before, the part of Abby that desires salvation and can accept it is the part that has done awful things, and desires to be punished for her sins - this is specifically important because in Raum’s play, his end goal is to have Abby awaken to her subconsious desire to be punished for her sins, and generalize that to the entire world. Because the Abby in Salem never did anything wrong, she would face both her greatest desire, and a great injustice - which in turn, by Raum’s plan, would push Abby to an existance where she can’t forgive herself, or forgive humanity, and see self-flagellation as the only existence possible.

His goal is to create a sort of “Christian Hell” for all humanity, where those that hold guilt are eternally punished and can therefore find redemption.

Sanson is a small microcosm of this ideal - due to his sin of acting as an executioner during the French revolution, he desires a punishment (being executed) as a way of absolution.

#fate grand order #abigail williams #robin hood #fgo robin hood #fgo abigail williams #fgo sanson #miss posts #fgo salem

[migleefulmoments]

Please, please, please publish Abby’s new diatribe as I have apparently been blocked (or perhaps just don’t know enough about tumblr to find it). I’m dying to see what she worked on for two months to justify her existence!

Anonymous said: Oh dear, looks like Abby’s family didn’t get her help after all, a lost cause then, what an absolute waste of a life. It’s actually sad. A shame her family didn’t get her help

Le sigh...she is not well. She hasn’t learned one thing while she’s been away and she still has the exact same grievances- mostly about how much she hates Mia and how much she feels sorry for herself because we aren’t lapping up her fantasy and showering her with adoration for being the leader of the ccship. Her main complaint, the reason she popped back in to write the same tired complaints and criticisms, is that she’s tired of people blaming Darren for the ccsituation. It’s always about her love for ccDarren and her need to absolve him of all responsibility for all of the things the cc fandom dislike about him and his life. IT’S ALWAYS MIA’S FAULT and the defacto fandom leaders aren’t reminding everyone “it’s never Darren’s fault” and “always blame Mia’s”.

She lashes out to criticize the “hate blogs” but ultimately she blames Ricky and Mia for EVERYTHING including the “attack on her family” (which of course, was NOT an attack on her family, it was a plea for her family to get her some help).  She claims “they” tried to shut her up and then lists all the evidence that “they” tried to end her blog:  HER copyright strikes (lots of us have one) and the “hate” blogs before listing individual grievances against several bloggers, amping up the grievance for dramatic effect and making it seem like they were coordinated, well-planned attacks against her. She negates her own part e.g. I published the photo ONLY after she dared me to several times. All of this because  “If this is what they were willing to do to me, a mere fan, imagine what they are well to do to him, their absolute life sources?” “They” aka Mia and Ricky.  

I found it hard to read. She’s not in a good place.  

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

Hello CCLand!  Have you missed me?  I know I have missed you all.  This post is not me coming back, frankly, I still have not decided how I want to navigate the future, but for the past 2 months all of this has been festering inside, so I need to post and make a few points.

First and foremost, I want to say that I am incredibly proud of my blog. I spent 5 years building a relationship with my readers and trying to provide a voice for 2 people who have been marginalized and frankly had their voices largely muted. I will never apologize for this or feel bad about it. Nor will I feel bad about pointing a finger at people that I know are truly evil.  

I am far from perfect and I admit, I made 2 massive errors.  I overshared because I was naive and never thought the information would be used against me.  And I did not pay enough attention to the hate blogs and their threats.

This was a blog that I started when I first learned about CC and frankly it grew out of love and a need to try to bring justice to a person that is absolutely a victim of a completely antiquated and abusive system.  Further, I don’t THINK D is closeted, I KNOW D is closeted.  And I have substantial facts to back up that statement.  I never intended to become the most read CC blog or to meets so many wonderful an amazing people that I admire, but that is what happened and that has given me great joy.

But with the good comes the bad, and what happened to me is absolutely sick and depraved.  And I am writing this post in hopes that someone will read it and see just how fucked up the behavior of a few “fans” has been towards me and to help them to extend this to what has been done to D and C.  Please do not feel sad for me, or send me sympathy, it is not my point.  But I hope that perhaps it will inspire some of you to be more active and to fight a little harder as I try to navigate the harassment that occurred to my family.

Pretty much since I started to write, I have been receiving hate, something to be expected when you join a fandom like this. But at some point, it became much more frequent and took a turn from manageable hate to harassment and bullying.  In October of 2017, I got my first ask with my full name and from that day forward there has been an active attempt to try to bullying me off the internet. Now ask why that is?  I am just a fan, with what most think is a crazy belief, with a relatively small following. I do not and have not tagged the players nor do I contact them directly. I have never been anything but incredibly polite to  D and C, and frankly I have ignored M whenever I have been in her presence because she is not worthy of my time or energy. I have never reached out to them over SM to make one statement about fandom. So why such an effort to silence my voice?  Especially if it is as insignificant as they claim?  

They tried deleting my blog, that failed. They tried with copyright infringements but I got smarter about making sure to post links.  So, what did they do?  They started with vicious attacks on my character on their hate blogs. Posting my full name and image.  Analyzing every word i wrote, desperately trying to debunk me, stating that i had severe mental health issues.  Tagged C, W, and A/lla to warn them about my presence at a book signing.  They stalked my friends and I at a festival, made false accusations, and published a photo. This meant that had to seek us out, locate where we were sitting and wait for a moment when they could get an image that they could twist to their favor.  That is insane. And there is no way to twist it to say its normal or expected.

But that apparently was enough harassment.  They threatened my work and my career.  Next, they started to stalk my family on the internet and use a devastating injury and a charity to harass and bully my family to the point that I did have to make the painful decision to not just stop posting but to protect my blog. This is completely vile and inexcusable behavior.  And the fact that it was not stopped, is a strong statement about the people clearly in control.

Why am I recounting? Because I want people to wake up and stop blaming D for every twist and turn.  If this is what they were willing to do to me, a mere fan, imagine what they are well to do to him, their absolute life sources? I am just another body left behind in the carnage, D is their source of money and fame. And not just his team and his “bride” but all of the people that have ridden his coattails to have name recognition.  

I wish people would realize this is not choose your own adventure book, D is a human who has been held against his will due to an enormous amount of power they clearly wield over him. How do you not see that if he could, he would end this?  This has not been about him being straight in so long, straight is how they control him and how they are able to make M relevant.  

And if you though this was a choice, how were you not woken up in the days following his dad’s death? I would guess not 48 hours after he buried his father, he was dragged from his mother’s home, forced to play dress up and pose for a ridiculous, cruel and inhumane set of pics.  D has lied about many things, but never about his parents, he has always been nothing but reverent when he speaks about them and his love and respect for them is clear.

Clearly, I have not gone anywhere, and I am still watching and reading every word. I have actually been incredibly proud of D during the majority of press for HW.  He has made so many statements that are a foundation for the truth, including telling us that young actors do things that they later learn to regret, telling us that HW has not changed, and stating that the person you see has a story we will never know.  

The press to legitimize and canonize M has been laughable and beyond transparent. It is so obvious this is on his list of required duties and the fact that they did not pause if for 1 week when his dad died is absolute proof that this is not a choice.

I do have to laugh at the irony of the d “quote” about fans being mean to his poor “wife” (that he himself has called a big girl).  So it is ok to bully a fan off the internet to the point that they stalked and harassed my family (and it does not matter if his was led by his team, her, her friends, or a fan in her name), but it is not ok for a small handful of fans to discuss the sad reality and point the finger at the truth?

Anyhow, this got way too long, but it has all been building up inside.  This blog was  such a massive part of my life and I miss it and you more than words can say. I encourage all of you to keep supporting these incredible men, I have no doubt they are worth it. I do think they next few months will bring about change, but what they change is, we still don’t know. I hope that D wins sooner than later. I am not certain how much longer he can be expected to sustain this weight.   If you reached this point, thank you for reading.    I am going back to my quiet corner now.  

[laurenbanasik]

A wholesome meme, and I changed my lockscreen to a desert because my phone is DRYYYYY AS FUCKKKKING HELLLLLL. I rarely get contact from those I love because they’re far away and I’m p sure they have a secret group chat without me in it to make things easier without having to worry about inviting me since I live so far away and don’t want to burden me with not being able to spontaneously hang (which breaks my fucking heart but oh well 🙃) and if I’m wrong I suppose my extreme social paranoia has WON YET AGAIN OOOOPPPPSS. Well I’m emotionally overwhelmed and drunk so here’s another rant on how my life sucks and how I have such an issue telling other people about it because, due to years and years of emotional neglect, I have an INCREDIBLE INABILITY to confide in others healthily HAHAHHAHA. S/o to anyone who deems me a valid human being and god forbid chooses me for a friend.

Anywho, I’ve FINALLY realized why I fucking HATE to see my only friends hangout without me. MAYBE. JJJJUUSTT MAYBE, it has to do with the fact that the last time I saw my old high school friends (the 3 I held closest to my heart and confided everything in) hanging out without me on social media was also the same day they yote me out of their lives forever... More detail? I thought you’d never ask!! How kind of you to care about my innermost traumas and allow me to express myself, seeing as I’m an incredibly open book about my sorrows. Having anyone listen to them and make me feel like a person worthy of love and care despite my many faults is something that NEVER FUCKING HAPPENS to me anymore due to me not opening up, not having the emotional availability to, or I’m just SO SO SICK OF BURDENING MY LOVED ONES WITH THE SAME SAD SHIT OVER AND OVER AGAIN THAT IVE JUST SWALLOWED MY INNERMOST DEMONS TO AVOID FURTHER CONTAMINATION OF MY LIFES ONLY LIGHT AKA MY FRINDS WHO THINK IM FIIIINNNEEE. FUN FACT IM FUCKING NOOOTTTT !!!!

Anyways, it was the tail end of my senior year in high school and my 3 closest and bestest friends in the whole wide world.... posted on Snapchat that they’d met up, without me, and were doing some bs cutsey bff forever Pinterest bullshit. I asked why I wasn’t there , and they proceeded to mock me via social media and kindly let me know I was no longer their friend by dancing to the hook of “I don’t Fuck With You”. Visciously @-ing meover snapchat. I cried. And cried. And fuck it had an AWFUL panic attack because I had ABSOLUTELY NO GODDAMN Clue what was happening. I was Confused. Hurt. Lost. AND I had no idea what I did wrong. (I later learned it was because someone said that someone said that I Apparently said something mean about them. It wasn’t true but, hey, it’s probably because I’m SUCH a horrible friend, and SUCH a cunt that it was apparently SOOOO believeable that IT completely negated anything I could’ve said in my defense. Adding to my extreme social paranoia I hold near and dear to me to this day, that’s often exploited in most social interactions I have which has made me an almost total recluse! THANKS ABBIE, KOURTNEY, AND BRIDGETTE! FUCK IT ADD JESSICA AND KASEY IN THERE TOO ECWN THOUGH THEYD NEVER CALL ME THEIR FRIEND IN ANY HEALTHY CIRCUMSTANCE HAHA ! YAYYYY TORMENTORS !!!) .....

And that was the last I ever really had contact with them. My only friends throughout some of the most pivotal years of my life. One I talked out of suicide and self harm, another I assisted with confidence and general love and support, and I tried to be there for the third as best I could, but she was a typical badass so I just enjoyed her company. My high school friends. I gutted them out of my heart as best I could. Forgot all of the AMAZING times we’ve had. A great portion of my memories in high school were tossed out along with their presence in my life to make the pain go away. A huge part of me died that day ... and nobody knew about it.

So, now, whenever I’m excluded I’m immediately put back into that void of confusion. What did I do wrong ? Did I hurt them? Why am I not there ? Do they think that little of me? Do they know how much I love them? Do I care for them more than they do for me? Is this a healthy friendship? Do they really think I’d rather be anywhere than with them? Should I just cut them out of my heart now to be ready for eventual betrayal ? Do I cut them out of my soul despite how much I’ll bleed? Haha , Yeah. I know.... it’s tucked up and Toxic as all hell. But, I can’t even begin to imagine a conversation with anyone about their attempt to help me with THAT problem. Or any other problems resulting from that. And, a couple days ago... id met up with a friend I’ve had since middle school. Someone who I loved my life side by side with until college. Someone Who saw that entire exchange, and who is still friends with those who (knowingly/unknowingly) tormented me to the point of breaking all through high school in the most demented,confusing, and underhanded ways you can imagine. I told that story to her, because she never knew how me and my 3 friends drifted so far away from each other. She had JUST heard about ALL of that for the FIRST time in nearly 4 years. And she believed me.... The whole situation of my downfall as a respected senior at Euclid High School. A girl who I’ve shared more than half my life with at the time ... and it was invisible to her. Wild.

I have broken apart an old piece of myself. Analyzed every detail, despite how much each part made me bleed. These old shard rip open old scars. It’s nothing new. I’ve been living in confused, isolated pain for YEARS. You really think this will break me? .... I mean I’m already very much broken. I mean, look at me, I’m venting on tumblr 🙃😒🙄. I just keep making shifty shelters out of the broken pieces of myself, just waiting for the next wolf to blow me down. I may be living in fear and paranoia, but I’m still standing....... aren’t I ?

#itbelikethatsometimes #oof #big oof #trauma #lady #rat #ladylikerat #ratlikelady #highschool #broken

[ohnohetaliasues]

Stones to Abbigale {Ch. 3+4}

(Kat)

I’m doing chapter four also since chapter three is so short.

I hate this book thoroughly.

But here we go.

Briefly after I fell asleep that night I had a dream about Abbi,

Please don’t go the way I think this is going.

it was the first dream I had experienced in some time. I'm not normally the type of person to be deeply impacted by dreams as more often than not I can control them. I can recognize the fact that I'm in a dream and twist things around so that whatever is making me afraid becomes afraid of me. This tactic however could not possibly work in this soon-to-be nightmare, as there was no living monster waiting around the corner. There was no emotion in this machine that was about to reveal itself to me. I could only watch without a physical form. I was just a helpless spectator in my own mind.

Okay so that was actual word salad.

The dream began without any sound; only a deep hum accompanying what appeared to be Abbi laughing in a field of what looked like gray grass from a far. As my view of her revealed more detail I began to realize that what I thought was grass was actually long slender claws.

So this girl is just...

In a field of claws?

Experiencing a more alarmed spectrum of emotion, the audible hum cut out and was replaced by Abbi's screams. The sounds echoed bouncing off the walls of my mind splitting me in two and engulfing the core my being.

I’m so fucking confused.

She was not forming any words in her screams and I began to understand why the more I analyzed every detail. I shifted my perspective to a new angle. I was now above her looking down and could see the claws were pulling her into the ground. She showed no resistance to being dragged into the ground, she didn't even cry for help, she would only scream in pain as she slowly sank beneath the surface. I began to distinctly hear blades and gears violently turning just beneath her.

I cannot fucking picture this happening for the life of me.

It's difficult to explain, but in her eyes I could see she didn't want to be saved as she genuinely felt she had earned the suffering she was enduring.

Edgy as fuck, okay.

She believed she deserved to be ground up until there was nothing left. Once she was pulled completely under I was finally given a physical form in the dream. Dropping from above I landed on the soil she disappeared in. I immediately dropped to my knees and began digging with my bare hands to get to Abbi. I was only inches deep before the ground ripped open forcing me to jump back.

Okay uh.

I have no valid words that could express how I feel right now.

A deep canyon began to form central to where I had begun digging. The splitting and groaning quickly gained momentum. Ripping and screeching sounds erupted all around me as the earth divided before me at a now crippling rate. A hellish sight consumed my eyes as I looked down on the collapsing landmass below. Powerful machines wielding massive blades swung violently scraping dirt and rock with a sound so tremendous I could only faintly hear the screams of countless desperate humans below.

This is just.

Not okay.

I quickly realized the terrified voices beyond the ripping blades were no illusion.

But this is a dream.

Which means it’s an illusion.

Thousands of lives were being devoured in piles, no person among them begging for life rather, like Abbi, they screamed only from pain delivered not just by the roaring blades and gears, but their very existence itself. Suffering & consciousness had become one in the same.

You are not poetic.

Shut the literal fuck up.

I then woke up to my room filled with sunlight, but it could not change the darkness my dream left me with. I felt something inside me change, almost as if I had seen something I was never meant to and now had to find a way to lose the thick cloud freshly looming over my head.

I hate you.

It is as I said briefly before, I feel like a visitor here, like I'm in this world but not a part of it like everyone else.

Shut up, you pretentious asshole.

I study people and situations to find out how they work and sometimes my dreams fill in the emotions and thoughts I missed while I was awake.

Yes, so you’ve said, in a very creepy non-human way.

Not having to go to school that day due to my suspension I decided to write a letter to Abbi.

Cool. Awesome. This won’t be cringey at all.

It read:"When I look in your eyes... I at times feel a level of sadness I have never felt, as if we, despite barely knowing each other, have been apart for far too long.

Excuse me, that’s incredibly creepy.

When I talk to you it is like I am listening to a voice I've ached for yet haven't heard in a lifetime. Every other experience I have with you seems familiar but at the same time, it hurts, like you would feel if you begged for something and only received it when you had already given up hope.

More word salad.

These feelings are all so strange and evolving at a rate that scares me as they are for someone I am only just now truly getting to know.

Even with my brief presence in your life I've picked up on so much suffering and almost feel powerless to create any change.

This is so alarming and creepy and you need to stop.

There are so many wounds, so many scars, so much I only know enough about to fear. I'm trying to understand. Abbi, you have more pain in your life than I can imagine. I hear it in your voice, I see it in your eyes and in the way you move. I just want to see you smile without there being an ocean wall of tears behind your eyes. I want to hear everything you have to say. I want to find a way to heal the damage done until you can forget it ever existed.

THE ONLY FUCKING PROPER REACTION TO THIS LETTER IS TO MOVE TO ANOTHER CONTINENT.

I sent the letter to her email address, moments later the phone rang. Answering the phone I heard Abbi's voice on the other end.

"Hey, can you meet me at the Quick Shop?" she asked.

I responded, "Did you see my email?"

She replied "Nope, why didn't you just call?"

I said, "It would've been really hard to say over the phone, I had to find the words."

She replied, "Ok, I'll look and then I'll head over."

I then confirmed "Sure, see you there".

Yikes.

Shortly after, I got dressed and skated over to meet her. I arrived quickly, thanks to what seemed to be a record speed for me. However once I arrived I found myself waiting for someone who now had no intention of meeting me. I could only assume I had just made myself look like a huge jerk to her. I attempted to call her from the nearby payphone and she didn't answer.

What did you expect? That she wouldn’t find that fucking creepy?

As I skated home, in my mind, I went through the letter I wrote over and over. I began to blame myself, concluding based on her absence that I must have dug too deep too fast.

I scared her away because I reacted on the emotions I experienced in that dream before actually considering the human being on the other side of the letter.

Yeah, at least you’re fucking self aware for once.

I felt like I was just about finally connect with someone only to ruin everything at the last minute.

That’s your own fault. Don’t bitch about it.

Okay, chapter 4.

My suspension had been lifted and I had just arrived back at Lakewood High. Approaching my history class I could hear people snickering as they watched me walk by.

Someone screamed "Wuss! Learn how to fight!" behind me but I just kept walking.

I feel like I’ve read shit like this before.

Oh.

Yeah, it reads like any angsty Wattpad story ever.

As I sat down in class Mr. Hanson walked up to me, he placed his hand on my shoulder and spoke under his breath so others would not hear "Don't worry about the work you missed, ok James?"

It would be preferable that you didn’t use ‘ok’ instead of the word ‘okay.’

But this is terrible, so I don’t have high expectations. I don’t know what I expected.

I looked up at him and he gave me a slight smile. I suppose it's because he felt bad that I was beaten up shortly after trying to get Jason to leave the class alone. It was a lucky break too considering Mr. Hanson's class was one of the few I didn't stop by to see what work I would miss before beginning my suspension.

No. No. That isn’t this teacher’s job. He needs to grade something, and if James didn’t do the work, it would be immoral to put good grades in the grade book when this is the case.

I approached the art trailer feeling panicked over what to expect. I hated that I said anything to Abbi, that I overstepped my bounds and acted like I knew her when I was only going off my own dream-influenced emotional intuition.

Intuition my ass. That dream means nothing at all. Shut your pretentious mouth.

I felt a conflicted hatred towards myself for jeopardizing a relationship with someone that was so important to me.

MY FUCKING GOD YOU’VE HAD THREE CONVERSATIONS WITH HER.

If she did give up on me, I could only blame myself.

Yes. You can.

Opening the door I could see Abbi wasn't inside, instead there were just pieces of my bear sewn to pieces of her bear sitting on her desk. Maybe I was reading too far into what it meant, I could really only hope that there was something left to us that I could sew back together.

If I have to read another bullshit waxing poetic thing, I’m gonna scream. My eyes are already glazing over.

Walking closer I could see something sticking out just beneath the bear.

It was a note that read: "James, meet me behind the church when you get this."

Immediately, I thought of the church neighboring Lakewood High.

I find it bullshit that James was immediately able to figure out what church Abbi meant when she didn’t even specify which church she was talking about.

I stuffed my backpack inside the desk

Your backpack fits in a desk? Either the desk has a large compartment, your bag is nearly empty, or your bag is very small.

I’m going with the last option because it’s the funniest.

and quickly made my way off campus to meet Abbi.

You left your bag in class and just left?

What is wrong with you?

As I approached the church there was a strong forceful wind blowing behind me that made it feel as if I was being pushed to her by nature itself.

I really hate you pretending to be deep, Onion.

I felt like a fool for thinking that, I'm far too unimportant for any significant force to consciously influence my life. I walked around the church only to hear Abbi say loudly "James!" I turned to see her standing under an overhang that reached out from the church.

That is called an awning.

I walked over to her and began to apologize for the letter, but she cut me off saying "Why did you write that to me?"

A valid question.

I responded "I wanted to separate myself from everyone else in your eyes. I wanted you to know I was trying to understand you, all of..."

She interrupted "How messed up do you think I am James? How screwed do you think my life is exactly? Because if you had any social skills, you might know that saying to someone what you did, is... I'm not damaged goods... I'm not broken!"

Her voice was giving out as she began tearing up. "I'm sorry... I was..." I said, helplessly watching tears fall down her face.

This is a confusing and mechanical interaction.

"I was wrong... but I'm here, and I will be as long as you let me." I said.

She wiped her tears and struggled to speak. "The reason you saw what you did, in my eyes, my voice..." she continued to struggle as she cried "You saw the bruises from my ex, but you wanted to know everything."

You two have known each other for two fucking days. Like, you’ve only spoke four times now.

She paused to wipe her tears again. I listened carefully as she continued to speak "James... I haven't been beaten just one or two times..."

I would care more if there was any buildup to this moment or any character development that would make me like this girl.

But there isn’t.

So I feel nothing while reading this, and that is both incredibly boring and unfulfilling, as well as genuinely kind of creepy.

The fact that this does not evoke emotion in me when I should be feeling some form of empathy instead of the apathy I feel disturbs me.

Abbi said as she looked at me as if every word was agonizing for her to say.

I would like to know why she’s telling this to a guy she barely knows.

With tear soaked eyes she continued, "I've been violated beyond that James... by people who called me their friend, people I trusted took advantage of me and that killed so much of who I am... who I was."

I am so concerned that I don’t feel anything here. Are you guys feeling anything?

Her face was consumed with stress, her body shook but she managed to continue, "My mother abandoned me and left me with my father who doesn't even care if I live..." before she could finish I wrapped my arms around her.

She dug her fingers into my back as she pulled me closer and cried into my chest.

As we held each other I said, "You were never damaged, only changed. Any part of you that you think died is just hidden, waiting to come out when it's safe..."

I want to actually die.

Abbi squeezed me even tighter.

I continued, "Every time I see you, you become more beautiful to me than before."

She gripped me more tightly than anyone ever had. She was finally hearing everything she wanted someone to say to her and I was saying everything I wanted Abbi to hear, that is, most everything.

Okay, cool.

I just... This is such a gross fetishization of abuse? It makes my stomach twist. I also feel strange that I can’t feel any form of emotion for these characters beyond annoyance.

It actually bothers me deeply.

This is the opposite effect you want to have on your readers, Onion. you want your characters to be relatable and real so your readers can connect with them and feel something for them. Well written characters are ones you can get attached to.

These characters are poorly written, which is why I cannot relate to them or get attached to them. I’m not saying I’m any kind of master at writing characters, but Abbi has no personality of her own other than the fact that she’s an abuse victim, and the fact that that is all is concerning. I don’t even know what she looks like.

James is the most pretentious, condescending narrator in the world and it makes me physically recoil while I read from his point of view. He is nihilistic, bleak, creepy, and very flavorless. He’s boring as all hell, and again, I don’t even know what he looks like.

Does Onion just forget to describe his characters? It makes it very hard to visualize anything with them.

Okay. I’ll see you guys in chapter five.

This book is actually repulsive.

~Kat

#stones to abbigale #onision #mod kat #Mod Kat reviews stuff #Mod Kat reviews things #i am very confused #i want to die #this is terrible #bad books #this reads like a bad wattpad story #onision is disgusting #mary sue #this is not a believable romance #at all #kill it with fire #burn this #badly written #onision cannot write #or function #he is a fucking creep

[troybarnesbucky]

I woke up and decided to analyze each 9-1-1 pairing with regards to timing and also buddie

I just woke up and all im gonna say right now is this: this is long-winded but basically it takes a look at all the relationships on 9-1-1 and compare the timing and level of intimacy to that of buck and eddie’s relationship. 

at the end of season 1 of 911 I remember watching and realizing they were gonna push the whole bobby and athena relationship, and I was surprised, because I didnt think there was any preamble or much hinting to it. but I guess it made sense to me - they were both single, both in the same social circle, they got along. sure, made sense. and then season 2 comes along and they’re smack dab in the middle of their relationship and we have zero time to adjust to it as an audience, but once again, we quickly did (mind you, I did not watch it live as intently as a fan would, but I do recall a lot of episodes because my mom watches the show and I remembered a lot when I was catching up myself). at this point bobby and athena are happily married and I really do love them together, genuinely.

then, maddie comes along and there’s a bit more to the story. she has a lot going on, a lot she’s been through and we spend much of her first season getting to know her and watching her confront her past and create her own present. chimney had a bit of a rough start with relationships (.... tatiana, sorry love, but you could’ve had it all sis). her and chimney start out as friends but it’s very clear from their blossoming friendship that the writers intend for us to want a relationship for them, and we DO. because theyre adorable together and genuinely have so much chemistry and they’re good for one another. it’s a bit of a slowburn but we get there eventually, so much so that in the season 3 finale, we find out maddie is pregnant! which yes, did make me cry shut up. 

hen and karen had a rough start. even if they did look happy, they went through a ton of shit in the first and second season, especially the first season. which is fair; hen cheated on karen, and a large part of her storyline revolved around her ex and having to fight for denny. but there’s so much love between them, and a heavy history that is palpable through the screen. by the time season 2 comes around, they are a bit more grounded, and more so by the time season 3, too. it was interesting to think about their relationship is comparison to the others, which we watched blossom in real time. especially in season 3, because we see their love and support of one another during their attempt to have another child, and yes I also did cry when they met nia for the first time and no I will not elaborate. hen also went through a lot of shit this season; karen, despite what she went through, was and continues to be super wonderful and supportive, if a bit wary (but its okay because drunk karen and chim was a gift and we were well fed) for a second. their relationship is everything and also karen carries the whole show’s sense of humor on her back, I said what I said. 

then we have three more main relationships: michael and athena’s, which is over in episode 1; buck and abby (im not counting ali because genuinely she was in three episodes, im only looking at the main relationships for each character), which starts and ends in season 1; and eddie and shannon, which technically starts before season 1 and kinda ends in season 2 but then she dies. 

personally I dont think there’s much to add about michael and athena’s relationship. firstly, michael is a doll and if they hurt him in season 4 I will riot. but more so, the show gave us a LOT to work with in terms of their past relationship. also, it was interesting as a viewer, to learn about them from the bottom up. we see the tail-end of their romantic relationship and watch it get replaced with a genuine love and care for each other and their family. it’s a stark contrast to what a lot of shows on television would go for; it has a bit of rough, bumpy start, but by midway through season 2, they’re both on steady ground in terms of personal family life, and it’s actually a breath of fresh air. their dynamic is heavily surrounded by love for family, and we love love love that. 

I think with abby and buck we all liked it a little, at the start. buck was sweet to her and we see a change in attitude and an effort from buck that is clear to have never been made before. abby is also a pretty admirable character; she takes care of her mother, is incredible at her job as a dispatcher, and she struggles with maintaining personal relationships but still gives it a go with buck. and buck, from the start to end of the season, grows a lot, both independently from and surrounding their relationship. as a viewer I watched the show way later on, so I knew abby was leaving and honestly, I really did like her and their chemistry. as we go into season 2, we have buck, who is still living in abby’s place, and then the introduction of eddie.

so here’s the thing; this is where I was trying to get to. the show (the writers) made and continue to make interesting character and relationship choices. with eddie and shannon, there is a very clear closeness and chemistry between them that yes, does get revamped for a little. there is also history, which is very important and can’t be disregarded. but more than anything, we are looking at timing in this meta. eddie comes along in season 2 and there are a lot of things happening: hen and karen are getting back to normal, athena and bobby are suddenly dating, buck and abby are - despite what buck thinks - very over, and chim is single and ready to pringle, plus maddie is new and freshly separated from d*ug. as we go through season 2, we see development with athena and bobby, very clearly on their way to a stable relationship and marriage. hen and karen are working through things, we don't really doubt their relationship either. both maddie and chimney are single, and they become friends, and we very quickly, as viewers, realize where the writers are taking us and what they want us to think. 

so now im gonna get on my clown shit when I talk about buck and eddie. specifically, regarding the writers and their timing and why I think they’re either really stupid or actually very smart.

listen, everyone loves slowburn. hell, I'm writing a buddie au that will probably end up being like, upwards of 80k words and it’s gonna be a slowburn. buck, at the beginning of season 2, is in denial. im not gonna go through details but I will say that like..... okay, he’s heartbroken and thats fair. eddie, through means of “what a man,” is introduced and within one fell swoop, buck is immediately jealous and then like, twenty four hours later, they’re besties. tea. totally fair. in terms of timing, especially regarding relationships, there really aren’t many things to note: buck goes through that weird thing with taylor kelly, eddie goes through his drama with shannon, and when shannon wants a divorce, it kinda all goes to shit. by the end of season 2, we have buck trying to move on (and also nearly dying by means of a firetruck but thats not my point but also writers wtf) and dating ali (guys how do you spell her name lol) while eddie deals with the aftermath of his (ex, technically but I don't know if its mean to say that) wife. there are more than a few moments between buck and eddie that hint to a potential romance and feelings, like the santa scene and multiple others. then, season 3 is very very interesting. 

buck and ally(? seriously I don't know) are broken up, eddie is focused on christopher and actually, also buck, and then the tsunami happens. there is also not much going on in terms of other relationships on the show; maddie and chim get their shit together while also having a crazy season starting and ending with talking about having kids with a brief intermission of “I cant say I love you” and nearly dying on both parts and albert appears lol (and then disappears, too?? wtf). athena and bobby are pretty cool, hen and karen are trying for kids and hen wants to be a doctor. we have some others, like josh, who go through too much shit for my liking and deserve better, and michael, who...... deserves the world. 

okay. cleared that up. but timing-wise, if we look at the writers and their regard for timing, then we see this: any time two characters are single and there’s an ounce of friendship even hinted, they end up together. fine, that’s fair to say because we’ve seen it, right? after the tsunami, which is a WHOLE OTHER thing im not getting into, we have the lawsuit, eddie fighting, lena bosko (yall can be mad but she was hella cool), hen killing that cello (I think) player, michael getting sick, wow this season was fucking insane holy shit.

but in terms of character relationships and timing, a lot goes on with buck and eddie. in this one season alone, we go from eddie being the first one to hug buck at his surprise party and christopher giving buck a card with “bff” on it, then buck almost dies (again) and eddie is, quite frankly, the only one who takes no crap from him after he quits and then the tsunami and buck literally tearing himself apart to find his best friend’s son and collapsing at the sight of them reunited and then “there’s no one I trust more with my son than you” (is that the quote, I don't know it by heart) and THEN heart eyes, and then the lawsuit and supermarket and “you’re exhausting” and “christopher misses you” and “I couldn't even call you to bail me outta jail” and then the “I’m hearing a lotta ‘I’s, buck” and “I forgive you” and then the Infamous Kitchen Scene and me endlessly screaming WHY WAS BUCK’S HAND ON HIS BELT LIKE THAT? but also very pointedly I will say eddie fighting specifically when he can’t talk to buck and then it stops around the time he can hmmmmm. and also “this is eddie’s house im not really a guest here” then the fuckaifajfgkjfglgakjdgag tunnel collapsing and buck literally, once again tearing himself and everything apart for a diaz, digging with his bare hands and the defeated look on his face and refusing to think about eddie dying and eddie very nearly dying but then recalling christopher, his family, buck, then christopher and buck, then christopher and buck again, then a rare shannon appears, and then it’s just-

okay. OKay. O K AY. ok. here’s what I think. either the writers are incredibly smart or just viciously stupid, or the third, lesser liked option, they know what they’re doing and don’t give two shits. they are sitting on, and quite frankly they have created, a fucking goldmine. but in terms of timing, and relationship choices, we have eddie and anna(?) as a brief thing that will either reappear in season 4 or never be touched again, then abby’s lame-ass apology that was just her attempting to justify her actions by claiming she simply just should’ve told buck sooner. but a lot of this season explores buck’s loneliness, and in a way, too, eddie’s. 

yes, eddie has christopher, and the others? they have families and significant others. buck has no one (except maddie but you get my point) to go home to. I think, in terms of timing and thematic elements, this season took the time to explore the loneliness of two men, but also by doing so, only high-lighted their need for one another, their love for one another. in the past, that has lead to two couples getting together: athena and bobby, and chimney and maddie. 

so, my point is, season 4 is the make it or break it point. we got (weak-ass) closure with abby, eddie’s anger and regret with shannon (and yes, christopher), an exploration of both of their loneliness, and a very, very clear rocket launch of their closeness and dependence on one another, in season 3. it started with a lot and ended with closure on all extraneous factors that could have possibly deterred the two of them from a potential relationship. more so, abby is getting married and buck has no choice but to move on; he may not have loved her anymore but he needed the closure (and no I do not think it was good enough and I think buck deserved more but that’s not my point).

this can’t be read that much into. it’s not subtle, it’s not subtext. it’s very clearly there on our screens, with every small or big line. they mean a lot to each other. anyone with eyes can say that, has to say that. the problem is, what’s the intention? like, are the writers actually doing what I've just said, setting up for a slowburn, taking it season by season. you can look at it that way, and it actually doesnt take a lot to get to that point of a thought process. there is a HUGE, fundamental shift in buck and eddie’s relationship in season 3. there is a perceived difference in their friendship versus both their relationship with others and the friendship between others. denny doesn’t call chimney his best friend, “his chimney.” athena has never once told hen she trusts her children with her more than anyone in the world. 

there are a lot of interesting choices that have been made over the course of three season, particularly this past season. there are also a lot of possibilities for the upcoming season. we may see a return of that teacher, we might see buck fall into other women, we may see eddie not fully over shannon, or (hopefully not) an abby return. it’s just a matter of waiting, but there’s no denying the way things were left off; buck and eddie were both single throughout the entirety of season 3, considerably closer and not guests at each other’s place, both very lonely in spite of the people around them, closer to each other than the rest of the 118, both have a family member (or more than one for eddie) to keep them anchored. buck is, yes, more lonely, but they are both left off in the same place. my question, more than anything, is whether it’s intentional after all that’s said and done. and if it’s not, then why, pray tell, are the writers following their OWN very clear and self-fulfilled pattern of timing and relationships to an even stronger extent than they ever have? 

#buddie #911 meta #9-1-1 #911 on fox #911 fox #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buck x eddie #chimney han #maddie buckley #bobby nash #athena grant #henrietta wilson #karen wilson #michael grant #long post #but yeah #this is my thought process