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perriewinklenerdie · 4 years

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Stuck with you (Ethan Ramsey x MC)

Open Heart, Ethan Ramsey x MC

A/N: Hello, hello, hello! How are we, guys? Alive and kicking? Getting enough sleep? Drinking water? (also tea, tea is awesome, 11/10). It’s been (again) a while since I’ve posted anything on here, huh. I’m working on another fic as we speak (summer theme cause summer is ending and I’m not ready for it), so we’ll see how it goes :D

AO3 link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26013712

Tag list: @paleweasels, @kittykatchoices, @valiantlychaoticbarbarian, @radlovedreamer , @usuallyamazinglyaverage, @strawberrwess @palestazure, @cordoniaqueensworld, @universallypizzataco, @princess-geek, @faithhasnowords, @mightyfangirlofthefandoms, @drakewalkerfantasy, @timmagicktoad, @laceandlula, @greywitchyshots, @llamasgrl, @gingerjane15, @bucket-harrington , @marywrites-things , @ethanplaysfavorites , @mfackenthal , @betelgeusebee , @simsvetements, @i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction, @buzz-bee-buzz, @owleyes374, @cora-nova, @aworldoffandoms, @l822, @cream-ray, @ughhhxjazzy, @silverlitskies, @justendlesssummerfeels, @togetherwearerapture, @desmaranj, @edgiestwinter, @friedherringclodthing, @daisy-ashton, @waytooattuned, @choicesgremlin , @lapisreviewsstuff, @the-soot-sprite, @writerapprentice, @chasingrobbie, @choicesobsessedd, @x-kyne-x, @thisperfectmemory, @drakewalker04, @rookie-ramsey, @jlynn12273, @thepinknymph @dr-brianna-casey-valentine, @a-i-n-a-a-s-h @justanotherrookie

Enjoy! <3

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Claire noted with an overwhelming sense of relief that as the end of her shift approached, the intensity of the day decreased significantly. What used to be a fast-paced march in the early hours of the morning, was now a slower stroll. It was mostly due to the fact that all her patients were stable, and her pager miraculously wasn’t going off every five seconds like it tended to do almost every day of her life at Edenbrook.

Her contemplation was cut short when she felt insistent tugging on her white coat. She moved her eyes towards the source of the movement, being only half surprised when she saw a seven-year-old girl, smiling widely at her.

“Dr. Claire! The nurse came to take my blood, to see if it was good and she gave me a high-five.”

“I’m sure you were so brave.” a smile blossomed on her face as she kneeled down to be on the same eye level as her little patient.

“I was! Can I have a lollipop now? I didn’t even cry or anything, it was just like you said, barely a pinch and it was over.” The girl asked, thinking back to the conversation they had that morning. It wasn’t even something that Claire did only for this patient, not a one-time event.

It has become a sort of a legend among younger patients and nurses, that she always had a bunch of sweets in her pockets, giving them out to the kids on occasions. Mostly because of it, along with how good she was with young people, she was a liked doctor that was invited into all the tea parties and book readings organized by kids, with a bit of help from the nurses.

“As promised, here it is.” Her hand disappeared into the pocket and emerged with a pink and white lollipop in a colorful wrapper.

“Thanks, Dr. Claire! You’re the best.”

“Don’t run while eating it, we don’t want you to get hurt, okay?” she warned her before standing up. The girl was already running away, though, waving the candy in the air in excitement.

“Sure thing, doc, have a nice day!”

Claire shook her head in amusement, straightening the creases on her coat as she turned away to walk towards the ER. She was stopped short in her tracks, however, by the sight of an eyebrow raised so high up that it might as well have flown off his face altogether, accompanied by a curious gaze of Ethan Ramsey. His arms were folded across his chest, his posture meant to intimidate.

“You’re a doctor, Herondale. Giving away sweets in a hospital? That’s promoting diabetes.” He pointed out, waiting for her to explain her behavior. She imagined that a comment like that had the potential to make some interns cry; hell, even less resistant to pressure residents tended to avoid confrontation with him if they could help it. But Claire? Hell no.

“It’s a little reward for being brave. I can attest that it works, they are much more likely to go through their procedures- “

“- and not be scared. Good call, Rookie, even though I still think you’re spreading diabetes in the hospital.” Ethan smiled, breaking the act of trying to reprimand her. Instead, he took a small step towards her, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. Her eyes sparkled teasingly, holding his gaze in a tight lock with her own as she decreased the distance between them even more.

“The only diabetes you’re going to get is from me being so sweet.” Claire’s voice dropped to a gentle whisper the more she talked, then she slowly stood on the tips of her toes to kiss his cheek. The corners of his lips went up, forming a smile, partly concealed by her hair. Before anything else could be said or done, the sound of a phone ringing caused them to, albeit reluctantly, step away from each other slightly.

“As much as I would love to continue this conversation, I should get going. Us Herondales really do hate waiting, you know.” She grinned, beginning to walk away from him.

“Yeah, I think I do. I wish I could go with you.”

“I know you do, Ethan. Maybe next time? Actually, definitely next time; I don’t think my Mom will let you skip the next family lunch, no matter how much important work you have.” He laughed, shaking his head as he watched her retreating form.

“See you this evening?”

“You can count on it, Ramsey.”

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It was slowly getting dark when he got home, and by the time he got round to cooking dinner, the sun has already set. He didn’t think much about the lack of contact with her; he knew how those family meetings went, so if he had to guess, Will most likely kidnapped her phone.

The ringing startled him a little, but still, nothing seemed wrong, hence why he walked towards the sound calmly. Claire’s name flashed on the screen, pulling a smile onto his face.

“Right on cue, Dr. Herondale. Dinner is almost ready, will you be home soon?” he asked, leaning against the back of the couch. There was a short moment of silence before she spoke, her voice just a little on edge.

“I don’t want you to freak out, but I got shot.”

“What?”

It was good that he had something to fall onto, because the initial reaction of his body caused his knees to go weak. He should have known that something wasn’t right, but never would he have thought that while she was supposed to be with her family, she would get hurt.

“It’s nothing, really, a clean in and out wound, I’m already having it treated.” Claire’s voice was steady, nothing indicating any unbearable pain, but then again, he didn’t know what exactly happened, so she might as well have been trying to calm him down.

“Where are you?” he asked, already running to the kitchen to turn the burners off, grabbing his car keys along the way.

“Edenbrook, but as I said-“

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” He cut her off, walking out of the apartment in rush.

It’s funny how fluid the time is. The more one is anticipating something, the slower it goes by. Consequently, the more one is dreading something, the more it rushes forward. Ethan was experiencing something entirely different. The whole ride to the hospital felt like it lasted two eternities, and yet he couldn’t remember a thing from that time, like it happened in a split second.

His feet carried him forward, recklessly running through the maze of corridors, ignoring stares he was getting from his coworkers. Any logical thought has evaporated, leaving only blinding panic, unprompted by her way of speaking, but pushed forward by what she said.

Danny didn’t even question his disheveled state when he asked for the room number, knowing better than to stand in his way. His muscles screamed, more tired than after any other exercise, but the fear of the unknown was pushing him towards her. He opened the door, only to see Claire sitting on the bed, discomfort clear on her face. Not pain, not distress. Discomfort.

Because in front of her bed were two people, sitting in a pair of chairs. The room was filled with crying of a little boy, shaking in his mother’s arms. He was muttering something incoherently; Ethan wasn’t able to figure out what exactly the kid was saying. Meanwhile, Claire was trying her best to calm the boy down, her hands trembling in frustration that she was stuck in bed.

Ethan expected everything. Literally anything but this. Because how the hell could he have predicted that he would find Claire, shot and panicking because her nephew was crying. The woman sitting on the chair, Claire’s sister in law, Louise, made eye contact with him, her face twisted in a mixture of helplessness and horror, not communicating a lot to him about what had happened.

Then he turned towards Claire, his eyes running over her, searching for the wound or any additional injuries. Her calf was bandaged and resting on top of the covers, but other than that, she seemed fine. Her head moved slightly, signalizing that she was indeed okay, after which she nodded towards her nephew giving him a clue.

How the hell did an eight-year-old boy shoot his aunt?

Ethan ran a hand over his face, breathing in deeply. With no idea how to even begin the conversation, he looked at Louise. She sighed, then started explaining.

“Our genius uncle decided that Toby was old enough to try shooting an air gun. He tried to aim towards the target, but it fired early by accident.” She took a break to look at her son, squeezing his shoulder reassuringly. “It just so happened that Claire was in the bullet’s way.”

“But I’m okay.” Claire rushed to reassure them, smiling softly at Toby. He started crying again, hiding his face in his mother’s sweater. Ethan sensed what she meant, walking over to the little boy and kneeling by his side.

“How are you doing, little man?” he asked, trying to test the waters before saying anything else. Toby didn’t respond, but he did turn his head to look at Ethan, his eyes red from crying.

“I- I hurt aunt Claire.” He muttered before another batch of tears gathered in his eyes. The older doctor extended his hand towards him, patting him on the shoulder comfortingly.

“I can assure you that your aunt is going to be okay. I saw her leg, it’s going to heal before you know it, yeah?” he caught Toby’s gaze, seeing him already feeling a bit better. “Let me tell you a secret. When she feels better, give her a big hug. It always works.”

“Hugs won’t always get you out of trouble, Ramsey.” The blonde doctor warned, grinning from ear to ear in a teasing manner. He schooled his features when he looked at her, then dropped the act and smirked, mischief spelled across his face as he took a step towards her.

“Ethan, no.” she warned him, her eyes growing wide. He took another step. “No.” She moved back into her bed, scooting away from him. Before she could give him another warning, he reached her and dug his fingers into her sides, tickling her mercilessly until she laughed. Claire tried to slap his hands away, to no avail, but the torture didn’t last long. Soon enough, he wrapped his arms around her, engulfing her in his warm embrace.

“Am I forgiven?” his lips brushed against her ear as he muttered the question. She took a moment, keeping him on his toes, giggling when he leaned away to look at her in consternation.

“For now, you are. We’ll see later, Mister.”

Their little game seemed to do the trick; Toby calmed down, and by the time Louise took him home, he was smiling. The door closed behind them, leaving Ethan with Claire. Visiting hours were long over, but there was not a one person that came to kick him out, courtesy of them both being doctors. He remained seated in the chair next to her bed, holding onto her hand as they talked.

“Shouldn’t you go home and rest? You have a shift in the morning.” She muttered, tracing his knuckles with her thumb.

“No, I don’t. Naveen let me stay with you, make sure you don’t injure your leg further. No walking, no running, only being carried.” He grinned, leaning towards her a bit, dropping his voice to a low whisper. “I’m your very own, private taxi.”

She laughed, pulling him onto the bed by his hand. “Okay then, since you’re not going home, you’re sleeping with me.” his eyebrow shot up in a teasing manner, opening his mouth to protest, but she was faster than him. “Yes, you are forgiven, and no, I won’t take no for an answer, Ramsey. Get in here.”

Sighing heavily, he removed his shoes and sat next to her, mindful of her injured leg. He looked at the wound for a long moment, being stopped by Claire pulling him to lie down. “I’m never leaving you again when guns are involved.” He pressed his lips against her forehead, muttering the words quietly.

“Only when guns are involved?” she joked, embracing him a bit tighter. Rather than seeing, she felt him laugh.

“Okay, you just scored yourself a lifetime of being stuck with me. Is that what you wanted, Herondale?” their eyes met, sparkling with humor and love. Stretching herself to her best ability, she pressed a short, sweet kiss to his chin before falling back into his arms.

“Give me the ‘brave patient’ candy and it’s a deal”

They remained in that position for quite some time, conversing silently, his hand running up and down her leg in a soothing motion. A short while after he turned the lights off so they could get some rest, she gave him a more serious answer, her words muffled by the fabric of his shirt. “I’m perfectly fine with being stuck with you.”

#ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #mc x ethan #dr. ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #choices #choices fanfiction #open heart #open heart fanfiction #fic #fanfiction #mc x ethan ramsey

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dannyphannypack · 4 years

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DP/PJO Crossover

Hello losers and welcome back to Taylor Writes A Teaser and Later Deletes the Entire Thing Because She Decides She Doesn’t Like it but She Wants to Put the Teaser Somewhere Else Where Her Grimy Little Hands Can’t Reach it so the Teaser Isn’t Lost Forever to Time! The Series. Today I’ve got a prologue for my upcoming fic, The Phantom Recollection. Enjoy!

“Woah.”

Daniel Fenton, newly fifteen, stood outside the Washington Square Park in lower Manhattan with a cardboard box overflowing with weaponry. He stood in front of the park’s Roman triumphal arch, where two statues of George Washington stared down at him. Behind the president on either side were two other people Danny didn’t recognize.

Jasmine, Danny’s older sister by two years, came up behind him toting another cardboard box labelled ‘Samples.’ She nodded toward the eastern pier. “That’s George Washington as Commander-in-Chief, Accompanied by Fame and Valor.” Jazz recited the words as if reading straight out of a textbook. “And the other one is George Washington as President, Accompanied by Wisdom and Justice.”

“Ah, yes,” Danny said as he adjusted his box. Guns were heavy. “My four favorite people: Fame, Valor, Wisdom, and Justice. Love those guys.”

Jazz nudged him with her shoulder and continued through the arch, where a crowd of people were gathered around a large fountain with jets that spewed water 45 feet into the air. A few adults sat around the fountain with their feet in the water and kids ran across the surface in swimsuits and trunks. Danny watched as one kid walked a little too close to the fountain and got pummeled by falling water.

The perimeter of Washington Square was decorated in booths. While one half of the square was shaded by the surrounding trees, the other half was enduring the hot July sun. Some people had been smart enough to bring canopy tents. Others were already baking.

“There,” Jazz said, pointing. A single empty fold-up table on the other side of the square sat in the sun with a sign that read, “RESERVED — Fentons.” Danny used a hand to shade his eyes in an attempt to get a better look at it.

“I told you that you should’ve brought sunglasses,” Jazz said. Danny figured she was rolling her eyes underneath her own pair of aviators.

“Yeah, yeah,” Danny huffed. “Let’s just go before I drop this Fenton-Tech all over the ground.”

A big guy in a bright orange neoprene HAZMAT suit ran into Danny from behind, almost making him fall over. Jack Fenton carried seven stacked cardboard boxes. “Whoops!” he shouted. “Didn’t see you there!”

Danny figured he couldn’t see anyone, anywhere, but a similarly-dressed woman in a bright blue suit came up behind him and urged him along. “Jack, I told you that we could just take a second trip.”

Beside Danny, Jazz hunched her shoulders like she thought she could hide in a turtle shell. “If anyone asks, I’m not related.”

Danny’s parents were … quirky, to say the least. Danny rarely saw them without their suits in public, and Danny even less so with his mom’s hood and red-tinted goggles. Underneath was a chin-length bob of red hair and deep blue eyes, almost purple in color. She was nothing compared to his dad, though, who was easily six feet seven and built like an MMA fighter (minus the rippling muscles). Huge. Stocky. Shaped vaguely like a box. He was difficult to miss. Even behind the boxes, people that walked past were giving him strange looks. Danny figured that was bad, since they were at a ghost convention.

“Not any ghost convention!” His dad had exclaimed, barely a week ago. “The Haunted America Conference in Alton, Illinois!”

“It’s not in Alton anymore, Jack,” His mom had sighed like they’d been over this three times already. “They had to move it due to popular demand.”

“Where is it, then?” Danny asked.

His mom had beamed. “Oh, Danny, you’re going to love this: New York City!”

And that’s how they’d ended up in America’s most populated city, carrying ghost weapons across a supposedly haunted park in the middle of July. Danny was pretty good at telling where ghosts were and where they weren’t, and there definitely wasn’t anybody here. The land had once been used as a mass burial ground during the yellow fever, but the spirits had all moved on since. If Danny had died during the yellow fever, he wouldn’t have stuck around either. Children running playfully over his unmarked corpse? No thanks.

Danny set his box at the foot of the table. His dad was trying to bend down without spilling the contents of his seven boxes everywhere, and his mom was fussing over him. “Don’t worry, Maddie, I got it!” his dad said, and he set the boxes on the pavement a little too roughly. The bottom box made a noise like breaking glass and crumpled underneath the weight. Ectoplasm began oozing out the sides.

“I’ve got the other samples,” Jazz drawled, setting down the box. “If you need me I’ll be by the fountain pretending that I don’t exist.” She shouldered her backpack and walked away.

“I’m just gonna go, uh, walk around,” Danny said.

His mom opened her mouth like she meant to tell him to stay there and help set up the booth, but she replaced the expression with a hesitant smile. “Go have fun. Be back by noon.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Danny knew how much his mother liked physical reassurance, so he stood on his tip-toes and pecked her cheek. “Love you.”

She smiled. “Love you, too.”

Danny turned and started heading around the square, glancing at people’s ghostly booths without actually getting close enough to warrant a conversation. He didn’t get a chance to walk very far, though. While passing a section of the square that branched off into a sidewalk, an old lady in a black hood grabbed him by the hand and pulled him aside. Despite the temperature (and the outfit choice), her skin felt cold. Danny forced himself to remain calm. Not a ghost, he told himself. Still, the woman set him on edge. When she opened her mouth, she sounded like she was hissing. Between gasping breaths, she said,

“Three shall find the child of death

Who loses his mind with one gasping breath

The son of the sea god must attend

To repay the kindness of a forgotten friend

See that his memories are safely returned

Or the reign of the King will be overturned.”

Danny blinked and she was gone, melting into the shadows of a big elm tree. “Wait!” he shouted, but the old woman had disappeared.

A wild animal growled nearby, but it came from all sides and echoed like Danny was in a cave.

He shivered. Get it together, Fenton. You’re losing it, man.

Thinking about how characters in movies splashed their faces with cold water when they were upset, he turned and walked down the sidewalk in search of a restroom.

Jazz sat on the steps of the fountain. With her laptop balanced in her lap, she reached into her backpack and removed a flash drive from her key ring of flash drives. This one was marked by a little cartoon ghost painted in neon green nail polish. She inserted it and opened up the folder. More folders stared back at her. Ghost Psychology, Ghost Physiology, Ghost Physics, Ghost Theories, Ghost, Ghost, Ghost. Jazz pursed her lips. Maybe she should take the ‘Ghost’ out of all her folder titles. The nail polish ghost on her flash drive already told her what it was.

“Hey,” someone said from behind her, and she jumped. Pulling her computer screen down, Jazz turned and looked up at the girl who had spoken.

She might have been a bit younger than Danny, though Jazz couldn’t tell exactly. She had long, curly red hair and dozens of freckles that decorated her nose like tiny paint splatters. Her eyes were so green they practically glowed in the light of the sun, swirling with mirth and curiosity. She was wearing red running shorts and a white t-shirt, so she looked like she had just finished a jog. Jazz supposed that she might have; this was a park, not a year-round ghost convention.

“Hi,” Jazz replied, pushing up her sunglasses so that they rested on her head. She visibly relaxed.

The girl chuckled and sat down beside her. She began taking off her sneakers and socks. “Surprised to see a fellow redhead at the Haunted America Conference.”

Jazz looked up and observed the crowd. She didn’t know how she hadn’t noticed before, but the people wandering about the square were a sea of black clothes and colorfully-dyed hair.

Jazz snorted and reopened her laptop. “That’s why you came over here?”

“No. I happened to see your computer screen.” She leaned in close for a better look. “Ghost Psychology, huh?”

Jazz closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Look, I know it seems weird—”

“No, I love it!” The girl said. “Everybody else here is all, ‘Palmistry, Chakra, Tarot Readings.’ You’re asking the real questions. What do ghosts think about? That’s what I’m interested in.”

If anybody else had said that, Jazz would have assumed they were being condescending. This girl, though … she could tell that she was just curious. “You believe in ghosts?”

“Yeah, sure,” she said, putting her feet in the water and kicking them back and forth a bit. “Why not? Had this weird experience at the Hoover Dam last month. Not a ghost, I think, but—” she cut herself off and bit her lip, like she was trying to stop herself from retelling it. She raised her hand for Jazz to shake. “My name’s Rachel. Rachel Dare.”

Jazz shook it politely. “Jazz Fenton.”

“Fenton, huh?” Rachel looked like that name sounded familiar but she didn’t want to say anything about it.

“Yeah, I know,” Jazz said, preparing herself for the obligatory ‘I’m a Fenton’ speech. “Parents are Maddie and Jack Fenton, ghost hunters extraordinaire. Last year they saved Amity Park from being annihilated by the Ghost King, yadda yadda.

“They did what?” Rachel squeaked, but she sounded more amused than shocked. “Ghost King?”

Jazz mentally berated herself. Without thinking, she’d started spewing the information that everybody back in her home state wanted to know. She hadn’t thought about the fact that she was in New York, hundreds of miles away. Stupid.

Rachel must have saw Jazz wince, because she switched gears. “So, ghost hunters,” she said. “Your folks got a TV show?”

Jazz took a second to process the change in topic. She blinked once. Twice. Suddenly, she burst out laughing.

“What?” Rachel yelled over Jazz’s laughter. “What’s so funny?”

Jazz giggled but calmed down. “Sorry. My parents having a TV show … I can’t imagine.”

“What do they do then?” she asked. “Ghost Tours?”

“Ghost—?” Jazz cleared her throat to keep herself from laughing again. “No, no, no, Rachel, you’ve got my family all wrong. Think, ‘shoot first and ask questions later.’”

Rachel’s eyes widened. “They shoot ghosts? How does that work?”

Jazz jabbed a finger behind her, where her parents had started on the box of weaponry. Her mom set the Fenton Bazooka down. Like anybody was gonna buy that.

Rachel gulped. “So I’m hoping you’re the ‘ask questions, shoot later’ one.”

Jazz nodded mutely and opened her Ghost Psychology folder. At the top was a folder labelled ‘Danny Phantom,’ but she scrolled past it to the general information. “My parents think that ghosts are inherently evil and have no thoughts of their own. They’re just a bad copy of their old human consciousness, wanting to get revenge on humans because they’re jealous that we’re alive or something. But they’re so much more than that. They have these—these ghostly obsessions.” She opened a Word document and began scrolling. “But they’re not evil obsessions. Sure, when they die, they can be like, ‘I’m going to make them pay.’ But usually it’s more of a gray area. Like, ‘I’m going to watch after my family,’ or ‘I’m never going to stop writing.’ What my parents don’t understand is that they’re not unary; they can think about other things. They aren’t limited to one state of mind.”

Rachel looked surprised at the sudden lecture, but she adjusted quickly. “Who is Skulker?”

“Oh.” Jazz paused and bit her lip. “He’s—he’s not the best.”

“What’s his obsession?”

“Hunting,” Jazz said, though she didn’t sound as excited as she had before.

“I’m guessing he’s not hunting for deer,” Rachel said, watching Jazz’s reaction. “Okay. Then … who is Danny Phantom? Why’s he got a folder to himself?”

Jazz’s eyes widened.

“Right. Another touchy subject.”

“No,” Jazz said, shaking her head. “No, he’s … he’s good. Great, even. I think he’s obsessed with protecting people.”

“Well, that’d good, isn’t it?”

“Yeah!” Jazz exclaimed. “I mean, yeah, it’s really good.”

Rachel stared at her. “But … something’s wrong?”

Jazz exhaled slowly through her nose, considering what she should and should not say. “He’s just a little … too protective, I guess. Never thinks about himself. Always rushes in when he could get hurt.”

“Ghosts can get hurt?” Rachel asked.

“This one can.”

Rachel could tell that Jazz didn’t want to talk about it, but she was curious. Choosing her words carefully, she asked, “What’s he like?”

Jazz smiled. “Oh, he’s great. Always saving the day. You know, everybody thanks my parents for the Ghost King thing, but it was really him. Our entire city was transported to a different dimension called the Ghost Zone. It’s where all ghosts live. The Ghost King had just woken up. People doubted his power. He was going to kill us all to set an example. Let everybody know that he was in charge.”

Jazz took a deep breath. “And then … well, Phantom couldn’t stand for that. He was already upset because … someone else got hurt. So he went up there by himself and beat him. He could’ve died.” Her eyes widened. “Well, not died, but he could’ve gotten hurt.”

They sat in silence for a moment, staring out at the fountain and watching the water splash against the surface. Some little kids ran by them, laughing. Rachel said, “You like this guy a lot, huh?”

That seemed to break Jazz out of her stupor. Her cheeks turned red. “Not romantically!” she shouted. “I care about him like a little brother. Not—” She put her face in her hands.

Rachel laughed and stood, shaking the water off her bare feet. “I’ve got to get going before my dad comes home for his lunch break and finds out that I’ve left the house. It was nice meeting you, Jazz.” She pointed at the laptop. “You keep that ghost science thing up. You never know. You might end up publishing it and becoming famous.”

“Your shoes,” Jazz said, grabbing the sneakers and holding them up to her. Her socks had been stuffed into the toes.

“Oh! Right.” She took them but didn’t bother putting them on; instead, she started walking up the steps and back into the square, barefoot. “And you keep that Phantom kid from doing anything stupid!” She added.

Jazz laughed. “I’ll try!” she shouted back.

Just like that, Rachel Dare was gone.

In hindsight, Danny should’ve known that he’d never get a break. Weird stuff had been happening to him since last year like clockwork. August: get ghost powers. September: fight ghosts. November: find out that a creepy old man has ghost powers, too. December: fight ghosts. On and on and on until now, watching people stumble through the gates of a sandy dog park behind the restroom he’d found. An old lady shuffled past him, screaming bloody murder. “Rabid dog!”

Danny turned back towards the dog park. That thing was no dog. Snarling angrily at a park ranger was a full-grown lion, 500 pounds at least. It snorted a small plume of red-orange fire. Danny blanched. Yeah, so maybe it wasn’t a lion.

Danny was still trying to process its more … interesting parts. From its back sprouted a black ram’s head, with big, curly ebony horns and a sneer almost as nasty as the lion’s. It, too, huffed, but only smoke came from its mouth. Thank god. Danny didn’t know if he could handle two fire-breathing heads.

Then there was the matter of the tail. The golden fur grew in patches before tapering off into tough yellow and orange snake-skin. At the tail’s end was a full, honest-to-god python. As he watched, the snake looked up at Danny and flicked its tongue.

This was a ghost. It had to be a ghost, right? Sure, it didn’t glow like a ghost … and it didn’t float like a ghost … and it didn’t set off his ghost-sense like a ghost … but what else could it be? An animal experiment escapee from the Central Park Zoo? Danny seriously doubted that.

The park ranger pressed his back against the fence, which was a little too high for him to jump, and made a high-pitched whimpering sound. Danny shook his head. He didn’t have time for this. Whatever it was, he had to get rid of it.

Danny glanced nervously at the security cameras attached to the public restroom and nestled between the trees. Okay. He had to get rid of it, but without ghost powers. How?

Looking around for anything he could use, Danny settled on rock and tossed it twice into the air to test its weight. Deciding that it would work, he shouted, “Hey, Alex the Lion!” and threw it as hard as he could. It hit the creature in the back of the head.

That got its attention. Turning away from the ranger, the lion growled and set the floor around the gate on fire. Danny surveyed the fence. He wondered if he could jump it or if he’d seriously have to run through flames to get inside. Danny didn’t like heat. It wasn’t his thing. If he channeled a little flight into the jump, would it be too noticeable?

He didn’t have to think about it for very long, though. A boy and a girl, apparently unconcerned with the security cameras, catapulted over the fence on the other side and somersaulted into a standing position, one holding a dagger and the other holding an entire sword.

A sword. This day was just getting weirder and weirder.

The girl kicked the guy in the back of the knee, causing him to fall. She pushed him toward the lion. “Mmm, look, yummy demigod!”

“Annabeth!” The guy spluttered, standing. Just in the nick of time, too. Their entrance had caught the creature’s attention. It lunged forward. The kid jumped out of the way.

Danny raised his eyebrows. The girl, Annabeth, had her wavy blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail. She wore jean shorts and a hazard orange t-shirt similar to Danny’s dad’s suit. The guy was wearing the same shirt, though he had a pair of black basketball shorts on instead. Together, they shared a matching gray streak of hair. He wondered if they’d dyed it together.

In the other corner, the park ranger fainted.

With nothing but sand and rocks to fuel it, the flames around the gate died, allowing Danny to walk in like a normal person. Unlike the other two, he’d rather not high-jump a fence with security cameras watching. Even in New York he needed to keep up appearances.

The creature rushed toward Annabeth and its snake head-of-a-tail wrapped around her arm, squeezing until she dropped her dagger with a pained yelp. She looked down at it and kicked it in the general direction of the other guy.

Okay, my turn, Danny thought. He grabbed another rock (this one sharper, yay!), stepped through the gate, and threw it. It cut a long gash through the ram’s cheek. The lion turned to face him.

Both of the strangers looked surprised to see him there, like they hadn’t noticed a fifteen-year-old kid standing by the front gates. Honestly, Danny was surprised that he was still there, too. He had seriously considered running away when he saw them jump the fence. He had thought, Great! Back to my vacation, but his feet stayed firmly planted on the ground.

Annabeth recovered quickly. With the lion-goat-snake-thing distracted, she ripped her arm free of the snake’s grip and tumbled away.

The lion head roared, shooting fire across the park at Danny. He rolled out of the way and stood, bouncing on his toes. What he would give to be able to fly right now.

The other guy stared at him.

“What?” Danny snapped.

“Your pants are on fire.”

Danny looked down. Sure enough, the hem of his jeans hadn’t been as lucky as the rest of him. Patting it out, he shouted, “Dude!”

And then the lion was on top of him.

Now, Danny had been in some pretty sticky situations. The lion had his arms pinned on either side of his head. Danny couldn’t help but flash back to another time, when a ghost panther had been on top of him in the same fashion. It wasn’t the same, but still. Two giant cats pinning him to the ground in a year? That was sad.

On one side of him was Annabeth, on the other, the guy. Annabeth pointed frantically to his right. His eyes flicked in the direction she was indicating. Ah, yes, the dagger! He’d never be able to grab it with the creature’s full attention on him, though.

“Percy,” Annabeth said in a harsh whisper. He didn’t seem to notice. With a stomp, Annabeth ground out, “Per-see!” and nodded her head toward the dagger. He opened his mouth like, Ah, hyped himself up by jumping up and down, and started running top speed with his sword held high above his head, screaming.

The lion gnashed its teeth like it was annoyed. The goat head bleated angrily. The snake hissed. In one swift motion, the creature lifted one of its massive paws and hit Percy across the stomach. He flew backward into the metal fence.

Fortunately for Danny, that was all the time he needed. With one arm free, he reached for the dagger, got a hold of it, and pushed it into the lion’s chest. He cringed, bracing himself for the five hundred pounds of lion-goat-snake-thing that was about to die on top of him. Instead, it began raining sand.

Danny opened his eyes, sat up, and immediately began gagging. “It got in my mouth!” he yelled, though it sounded more like, “It got in me mouf!”

Percy, who had been thrown into the fence and didn’t look much better than Danny, had the audacity to start laughing. Danny turned and glared at him, using his hands to brush lion-goat-snake dust off his tongue. He only succeeded in adding more sand from the ground to his mouth.

Annabeth held out her hand for Danny and helped him to stand. Percy cleared his throat, like, Hey, aren’t you gonna help me up, too? but Annabeth just looked Danny up and down with a puzzled expression. Her eyes were gray like a storm cloud. “Who are you?” she asked. It sounded like an accusation.

Danny was still spitting sand and monster dust all over the ground. “Danny,” he said between gagging. “Bleh.”

“First time?” Percy quipped, helping himself up by leaning heavily on the fence behind him. He winced and held his stomach.

“I’m Annabeth,” Annabeth said. She gestured flippantly at her friend. “That’s Percy. I’ve never seen you before. Where did you come from?”

Danny furrowed his eyebrows, thoroughly confused. “You ever meet a tourist?”

Annabeth continued to stare at him. Shaking her head, she asked, “Where’s your parent?”

“Uh, parents? And they’re at Washington Square.”

“You have a stepparent?” Percy blurted.

“What?”

Percy changed gears. “You’re adopted?”

“What? No!”

Percy’s eyes widened. He muttered, “You’re like Rachel?”

“Who?” Danny and Annabeth asked in unison. For once he wasn’t the only one out of the loop.

“Look,” Danny said, brushing himself off. “This has been super fun, but I’ve got a ghost convention to get back to.” He turned on his heel and started stalking out of the dog park. What was up with them assuming he didn’t have parents? And people thought he was nuts.

“Wait!” Percy shouted. Danny paused mid-step. “Thank you.”

Danny considered that. He wasn’t supposed to be a hero in human form. It was dangerous. Even now, he was running through scenes in his head of these two stealing the security footage and putting him on YouTube or something. Highly unlikely, but anxiety twisted that in his head and made him more and more uncomfortable. He turned back around. “Look … don’t tell anybody about this, yeah?” Then, to disguise his nervousness, he said, “My parents would flip if they found out lion-goat-snake hybrids existed.”

“Chimera,” Annabeth said.

“Bless you,” said Percy.

“What? No! Percy, you of all people should know this. The Chimera is a Greek monster. Bellerophon shot it with the help of Pegasus. Do you listen to anything we tell you in camp?”

Percy shrugged noncommittally.

Annabeth fumed. “I—”

“You could come with us, you know,” Percy said, cutting Annabeth off. “To camp, I mean.”

Danny pretended like he was considering the offer. “Hmm, a camp with a Greek mythology class? No thanks.”

“It’s not a myth,” Percy said, rushing to get what he wanted to say out before Danny lost interest and left. “The Greek gods, I mean. They’re real. We could really use someone like you.”

Danny considered this. Right, so … crazy. They were crazy. If the Greek gods existed, why would there be a Ghost Zone? Didn’t spirits go to the Underworld in Greek mythology or something? But then again … what else could that lion-goat-snake thing be? It definitely wasn’t a ghost.

Danny shook his head. He had enough things to worry about. This was crossing into the Too Weird category. Turning, he said, “Thanks for the offer, but I’ve gotta go throw rocks at some other monsters. See you around.”

He walked out the gates and down the sidewalk towards Washington Square, thinking, I could really go for a sandwich right now.

619 notes · View notes

tw-anchor · 4 years

Text

36. The Anchor and the True Alpha

Anchor

Stiles Stilinski x Original Character

Episode: 3x12; Lunar Ellipse

Word Count: 8,373

Warning(s): Mature language, canon violence + gore, stupid Jennifer Blake, moron Deucalion, true alphaness, badass anchor, awkward Derek

Author’s Note: Here’s the 3A finale! I hope you enjoy. Please make sure to let me know what you think, reblog, and like!

Masterlink in Pinned Post!

"Okay, like this?"

Allison giggled at Olivia, enjoying the way she held the Chinese ring daggers that the shorter brunette had insisted that Allison teach her how to use. Right now, Olivia held them loosely, the tip of the blades closer to cutting her wrists more than protecting herself.

"Stop laughing at me!" Olivia called her out with amused eyes. "I'm trying to be a badass like you!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Allison choked down the rest of her laughter. "Let's start over."

Olivia nodded and put the daggers back to the starting position that Allison had taught her. "Okay, now what?"

"Now, you twist them like this," Allison demonstrated the move with the set she was using. "and then you flip your wrists up and raise your arms like this."

Olivia did as Allison told her, wincing at the slight bruises starting to form around the base of her fingers. Chinese ring daggers were no joke and now she understood why Allison came to school with bandages around her fingers for a couple of weeks the previous semester of school.

She did the move sloppily, nowhere near as sharp as Allison's, of course, but that was expected. Allison nodded in approval, a small smile forming at her lips. "All right, keep practicing that," she said encouragingly. "Once you tighten that up, we can move onto the next move."

"Considering that I'm not athletic whatsoever, I think that went okay," Olivia breathed as she slipped the daggers off of her fingers.

Allison laughed. "Does that mean you want to try the crossbow?"

"Don't even think about it, Al!"

Olivia walked through the woods surrounding the old Hale House. They were training Jackson about control before he headed off to London, England. To say that he was being a bitch about it all would be an understatement. He was taking his temper out on her and Scott—he was upset about what he had done as the kanima, his brush with death, and the fact that his parents had found out what happened and were moving the family to London for no other reason than to get him away from everything supernatural.

Olivia could take his temper and his snide comments because she had seven or eight years to get used to it. Scott, however, did not. Too many comments about he used to suck at lacrosse and cheated the whole semester, how he used to have only Stiles as a friend, his mom's income, and Allison breaking up with him had gotten to Scott.

He stomped away with golden eyes, leaving her to deal with Jackson on her own. Since she was still harnessing her own abilities, she just sent Jackson home for the day and then proceeded to go and find Scott. She found him by a small creek, sitting on the bank.

"Hey," she called as she walked over and sat down next to him. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," he told her quietly. "Just lost control for a second."

"Anyone would have. Jackson's a dickhead. I don't know how he has more two friends," she huffed out a laugh. "Other than me and Danny, I think the rest are just afraid of him."

Scott's lips quirked into a half-smile. "Probably," he hesitated. "Have you, uh, have you heard from Allison?"

Olivia frowned as she thought of her friend. "A couple of nights ago. She's not doing too well. I think Gerard messed her up just as much as her mom's death."

"He's a psycho," Scott agreed. "Did she ask you about me?"

She hesitated, not wanting to hurt his feelings—how had she become this empathetic person? "I'm sorry, Scott, but no," when Scott ducked his head, she reached for his hand and took it, trying to give him as much support as he needed. "I know it hurts but she's going through a tough time. And you're both different people now, you've both changed."

"So does that mean she won't want to get back together?" Scott asked miserably, lifting his head to look at her with wet eyes.

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "But, Scott, listen. I know you love her, I know you do. And what you had was amazing and odds-defying. But sometimes relationships don't last. It doesn't mean that those people don't love each other, but sometimes circumstances can alter the path of the relationship."

Scott frowned and looked back at the creek. "I really love her."

"I know," she squeezed his hand. "but sometimes love isn't enough. Then again, I can't predict the future. Allison may come back from France and want to get back together, she may not. I just want you to be ready for whatever she decides, okay?"

"...Okay," Scott said after a minute and then attempted to smile at her, changing the subject only slightly. "Are you a love guru or something, Liv?"

Olivia laughed. "Nah, I'm not so good at love."

"That's not what Stiles says."

"Hey," she slapped is arm playfully. "You guys talk about me?"

"A little too much—ow, Liv!"

Derek sighed reluctantly as he sat Olivia down on her bed, taking a seat in the armchair a few feet away. "Okay, I didn't want to have to do this, but you and Stiles—"

"Oh no. Oh, God, please don't do this," Olivia pleaded with her cousin, her cheeks warming up. "Derek just walk away."

"No, I have to get this out," Derek insisted. "You have no one else to tell you."

"Uh, yes I—"

"Obviously, you and Stiles are in a serious relationship," Derek interrupted her. "and with a serious relationship comes...personal relations."

"Personal relations?" she looked at him in disbelief. "What are you, eighty-five years old?"

"Fine, sex," Derek glared at her. "You and Stiles will start having sex."

Olivia sighed and though she appreciated that he was there to give her advice and take care of her, Natalie had given her and Lydia the typical parental sex talk when they were eleven and twelve and they got their periods around the same time. Then, a few years later, Lydia gave her an actual sex talk after her experiences with some boys and then Jackson—the kind of talk that was rated R and too inappropriate for parents to talk about with their kids.

"Now, you probably won't experience this, because I'm tempted to rip off Stiles arms if he doesn't keep his hands to himself, but," Derek winced, looking more uncomfortable than she felt. "but sex...is...natural."

"Derek, please..."

"Just let me get this out before I lose my nerve," Derek cut her off; Olivia nodded, her lips twisting in amusement. "Under no circumstances are you to have sex without a condom. Only when you're married and want to have a family is when it's accepted to go without."

Olivia hid her smile to nod seriously. "Okay."

"And never, ever do anything you're uncomfortable with," Derek continued. "If you say no, Stiles will stop if he's a good guy. If not, I put pepper spray on your keys and a rape whistle in your purse."

"Oh, God..."

Stiles was not a guy who would put his hands on anyone without their express permission. Usually he was a nervous wreck anyway if they did something sexual. And he was always respectful of her. But, if he was out of his mind or crazy enough to force her into relations—as Derek called it—than she would kick his ass. And then break up with him. She loved him but she loved herself too and she was not going to put up with that.

When Olivia nodded her understanding, Derek cleared his throat. "Now..."

He paused to pull something from behind his back. Olivia's mouth fell open when she saw what he had. "Oh, my God...please tell me that's not a banana and a condom, Der! Oh, my God, it is!" she winced and buried her burning face into her hands. "Please don't do this Derek."

"I want you to learn how to put on a condom."

"I didn't want to say this, but Derek, I've already had this talk, two different times, okay?" her voice was muffled by her hands, but Derek got the gist; he looked horrified. "Lydia even taught me how to put on a condom."

She almost added that she knew how to do it multiple ways, but Derek looked like he wanted to die from embarrassment from what he had already heard.

He glared at her. "Why did you let me ramble on?!"

"I didn't let you ramble on, you kept interrupting me!"

"You're grounded!"

A genuine laugh spilled from Olivia's lips. "You can't ground me!"

"Well, I just did, so there!"

"Top five favorite ice creams. Go."

Olivia blinked in surprise from Stiles' random prompt. They were on the beach, laying on their towels and trying to tan after a dip in the ocean. She raised up onto her elbows—she was laying on her stomach—and looked down at Stiles, from where he was laying on his back, hair halfway grown out and the black ray bans she gave him as a gift on the bridge of his nose.

"I don't like ice cream very much," she told him.

"There's not way you don't like ice cream," Stiles disagreed; she shook her head. "Come on, you don't even like chocolate-chip cookie dough?"

"I don't like raw cookie dough."

"Unbelievable. I'm in love with a heathen," Stiles joked. "So, not one ice cream?"

"I have two that I usually get if I actually want ice cream," she confessed. "I like vanilla and mint."

Stiles looked up at her in disbelief. "Vanilla and mint?" when she nodded, he scoffed. "Sorry, nope, I'm not dating a heathen, I'm dating a senior citizen."

"Hey!" she gently slapped his toned abdomen in offense. "I'm younger than you."

"Your favorite ice cream flavors are vanilla, which is the most basic out of all the flavors, and mint—without chocolate, by the way—which only adults eat. No offense, babe, but you need to live on the edge sometimes."

Olivia pinched his side because of the pet name and laughed. "Living on the edge is eating different ice cream flavors? Wow, what a life you live, Stiles."

He poked her in the cheek. "At least I don't have the personality of an old lady."

"Ouch, that really hurt."

"Hey, I'm just saying," Stiles put his hands up defensively. "All right, how about the worst five moments of your life?"

Olivia raised her eyebrows. "What a serious change of topic."

"Here, I'll pick a new one—"

"No, it's okay," she assured him. She leant toward him more and rested her head on his stomach, facing him. "Number five would be my very first day of school."

"Really?" that surprised Stiles. "You love school, though."

"I do now. Before I started school, I hung out with either Lydia, or Cora, Derek, and Laura," she shared with him. "They were all my heroes and my best friends. And I'm a year younger than Lydia and Cora, so I didn't start school with them and it made me so upset that I threw a fit."

"You, having a tantrum? Wow, I didn't expect that," Stiles commented sarcastically.

"I really was an angel," Olivia went along with him and then went back to the story. "Anyway, my mom started teaching me stuff because she was in college studying to be a teacher. By the time I went to preschool, I was too advanced and I was miserable because Lydia and Cora weren't with me."

"So they let you skip a grade."

Olivia nodded. "I tested out of preschool and went right to kindergarten."

"We had class together," Stiles remembered. "You were quiet."

"And you were weird," Olivia returned with a laugh.

Stiles joined in with her laughter. "All right, what about number four?"

"Number four was when I was seven years old and I realized that I wasn't able to draw," at the look Stiles gave her, she defended herself. "In my defense, I wanted to be an artist back then. And I was not good at art. At all. I was always jealous of Lydia's ability to do anything, especially draw."

"You shouldn't compare yourself to Lydia," Stiles scolded her quietly. "You're perfect, even with all your flaws."

Olivia smiled gently, touched by his words. "Thanks, Stiles."

They kept going with her worst moments in her life. Her third worst moment was when she and Cora got lost in the woods outside of the old Hale House when they were five or so. She had been really scared and Cora hadn't yet mastered her enhanced sense of smell, so they were stuck out there for four hours—when Talia and Peter had found them, they were grounded for two weeks. Her second worst moment was the night of winter formal, when Peter had bitten Lydia and herself.

"The worst moment of my life was when I heard about the fire," she said quietly, tracing the pattern of Stiles' freckles on his stomach. "Everyone but Laura and Derek were in the fire. They came to me and told me what happened. Our whole family was dead, my mom was dead, and my dad barely survived."

Stiles brushed his fingers through her hair; he knew what it felt like to lose a parent and he couldn't imagine what it was like to lose two at the same time—because she had lost Peter, too, even if he wasn't dead. He just turned into a psychotic alpha who wanted revenge without carrying about those closest to him.

"I was lost for a really long time," she admitted quietly. "Derek and Laura left for New York and I was suddenly living with Lydia, Uncle Thomas, and Aunt Natalie. But I eventually got better."

"Yeah, you did," Stiles gazed at her with soft, loving eyes. "and you're the strongest person I know."

"I'm not strong," she denied, avoiding his eyes. "I'm a coward. I hide my feelings away deep down inside of me. I act like a bitch to anyone I don't care about. Most of the time I'm an emotionless robot."

"No, you're not," Stiles sat up and simultaneously adjusted her until she was sitting in his lap. "The people who say you're emotionless don't take the time to pay attention to you. I'm sorry, Livvy, but you're actually very easy to read."

Olivia gaped at him, unsure if she should be insulted or relieved. Maybe it was a little bit of both; she was a little insulted because her emotionless robot mask was a comfort to her and not to mention, something to push away all of her negative feelings. On the other hand, it was special to her that Stiles was able to read her so soundly. The only other people who had been able to were Lydia and Derek but Stiles being able to, the boy she loved...that was amazing.

"I love you."

"I love you, too," Stiles emphasized his words with a quick but loving kiss. "Okay, that's enough seriousness for now."

"Mmm, I agree," Olivia smiled at him.

"So, how about...your top five pizza toppings?"

"Well, number one is pepperoni..."

"Ah, what a classic."

Olivia woke up eight hours after Stiles, Scott, and Allison had fallen unconscious. Lydia and Isaac were sound asleep but Dr. Deaton was awake and there to greet her when she woke up. She was disoriented, the memories with Allison, Scott, Derek, and Stiles going through her mind like flashes.

She didn't tell Deaton about the memories, but instead thought on them. It didn't take long to realize that one of those memories were unlike the other. Derek hadn't been in the ritual like the others, so why did she see him?

It worried her. It worried her so much that she excused herself from the exam room and called Derek. It was Cora who answered the call, shockingly—she had no idea how Cora was better but boy, was she glad that she was. She told Cora that she was worried about Derek and in return, Cora told her just how she hadn't gotten better. Derek had given up his alpha status to heal Cora; he was now a beta again and very, very weak at the moment.

Olivia checked her tethers and she saw that Cora was right. Derek's tether was bright blue again, like the color of his eyes before he killed Peter and became an alpha. It was strange, but it was more worrying than the memory she had. Kali and the twins were supposed to come for Derek before the lunar eclipse and not only was he not an alpha anymore, but he was tired from healing Cora. He was screwed.

She told Cora that she would call back soon before hanging up. Then, she cried. She cried for Derek, she cried for Stiles and Allison and Scott, for Noah, Melissa, and Argent, and finally, for herself.

The whispers in her head were loud and they were pressing. She could no longer focus on anything but the names of her loved ones and the pain that filled her heart from her loss, even if Stiles, Scott, and Allison came back. She had the potential of losing the boyfriend she loved, two friends, and Derek, her protector, guardian, and father-figure for all intents and purposes.

It was not okay. None of this was okay.

Stiles, Allison, Scott...Derek, Derek, Derek...Stiles, Allison, Scott...Over and over, came the whispers until a migraine grew and she fell asleep once again.

She woke up only three hours later, more collected. She stayed seated in between Isaac and Lydia, who had now woken up for the day, and they all listened to assurances from Dr. Deaton that Stiles, Scott, and Allison would be okay. There was worry in his voice but somehow, his words comforted them. Olivia had the feeling that the man could give someone the worst news of their life and still be a comfort.

It was eight hours after the first time Olivia woke up, sixteen hours after they first fell unconscious, when Stiles, Allison, and Scott all woke, sitting up out of the water with loud gasps. Olivia, Lydia, Isaac, and Deaton rushed over to the tubs, the ice long gone, and handed the three of them towels.

"I saw it, I know where it is!" Scott claimed, taking the towel that Lydia held out for him.

Stiles nodded. "We passed it," Stiles confirmed as he climbed out of the tub soaking wet. "There's—there's a stump, this huge tree. Well, it's not huge anymore, it was cut down. But it's still big, though, very big."

As Olivia wrapped a towel around him, Scott added, "It was the night we were looking for the body."

"Yeah, the same night you were bit by Peter."

"I was there, too, in the car with my mother," Allison was still sucking in huge gulps of air. "We almost hit someone."

"It was me. You almost hit me," Scott told her; Allison gasped in amazement while he turned to the others. "We can find it."

Olivia, Lydia, and Isaac all exchanged worried looks. It didn't go unnoticed by Allison, Scott, and Stiles.

"What?" Allison asked them.

Isaac was the one to answer them. "You guys were out a long time."

"How long is a long time?" Stiles wondered, glancing between the three of them and then over to Dr. Deaton.

"Sixteen hours," Deaton broke the news.

Scott's eyes widened in shock. "We've been in the water for sixteen hours?"

Dr. Deaton nodded. "And the full moon rises in less than four."

Scott sighed heavily and sat down on the rim of his tub. "I have to go back to the alpha pack."

Olivia gulped uncomfortably and spoke up, "I think I should go with you, too."

Scott looked at her with an understanding expression and nodded slowly.

"No, dude, you are not going back with them," Stiles told Scott firmly before pointing to Olivia. "And you, don't even think about it, all right?"

"I made a deal with Deucalion," Scott reminded him. "And he wants Olivia, too. A lot."

Stiles scoffed. "Does anyone else think that sounds a lot like a deal with the devil?"

"What does it matter, anyway?" Isaac piped up from his seat next to Allison.

"Because I still don't think we can beat Jennifer without their help."

Allison shook her head at Scott's answer and turned to Dr. Deaton pleadingly. "He trusts you more than anyone and Liv is obviously going to agree with him. Tell them they're wrong."

Deaton glanced at Olivia and then Scott. "I'm not so sure they are," he admitted. "Circumstances like this sometimes require that you align yourself with people you'd normally consider enemies."

"So we're gonna trust Deucalion?" Isaac shook his head in disbelief. "The guy that calls himself death, destroyer of worlds? We're gonna trust that guy?

"I wouldn't trust him, no," Deaton advised and gestured to Olivia and Scott. "But you guys could use him to your advantage. Deucalion may be the enemy, but he could also be the bait."

They all paused as they heard the door to the lobby open. Deaton went out first, and when they heard Ethan's voice, Olivia, Lydia, Stiles, and Scott joined him.

"I'm looking for Lydia," he told them.

Lydia looked at him expectantly. "What do you want?"

"I need your help."

Olivia gave him a suspicious look. "With what?"

"Stopping my brother and Kali," he paused only for a second. "from killing Derek."

Olivia lifted her chin, all of her concern for Derek coming back into focus. Stiles, Scott, and Allison were all right, but what about Derek? His tether was still shining bright blue and although it wasn't enough to take all of her focus, his name was still floating around in her head.

"You should go, Lydia," Olivia cleared her throat. She had never liked Lydia's relationship—if anyone could even call it that—with Aiden, but there was at least one benefit from it, other than Lydia's happiness. And it was that Lydia had a hold over him. If she could convince Aiden to not kill Derek, then maybe he had a shot at surviving.

Lydia looked at her like she was crazy. "Are you sure?"

"All day, I've been hearing warnings about Derek," she confessed, glancing at Ethan. "I don't know if he's going to survive or not, but if you can convince Aiden, maybe..."

"We'll turn against Kali," Ethan spoke up in agreement with her. "We won't let her kill Derek."

Lydia didn't think it over very long, but that was Lydia; she was brave. "Okay," she agreed and gave Olivia a quick hug. "Just be careful."

"No, you be careful," Olivia insisted; Lydia smiled at her and when she walked out the door with Ethan, she turned back to the others. "Okay, what's the plan?"

"Just grab anything," Scott told Stiles through the phone as he, Olivia, Allison, and Isaac got out of the elevator in Allison's building and headed to her apartment door. "Stiles, I'm not smelling your dad's boxers. Socks? Okay, I'll smell the socks."

He ended the call and as Allison unlocked the door, Isaac asked, "What about me?"

"See what you can find in my dad's closet," the door opened and they all filed in. "Anything with the strongest scent."

Allison opened the door to her dad's office and stopped in her tracks, making Olivia, who was right behind her, slam into her. In the office was Agent McCall and two deputies, waiting for them at the desk.

"Quite the arsenal your fathers got here, young lady," as McCall spoke, Scott came up behind Olivia and stared at his dad in shock. "Scott."

Scott carefully squeezed past Olivia and Allison to enter the room. "What are you doing here?"

"Following one of the only leads I have," McCall stood from Mr. Argent's desk chair. "Now, since I don't know where you've been, why don't you have a seat and we can talk? You too, Isaac."

Isaac, who had been hiding in the hallway, came and stood next to Olivia. "How do you know my name?"

"Your name's one of the few things I know," McCall told him. "To be honest, the rest of what's going on around here has be stumbling in the dark, even over the smallest clue."

"If you're trying to tell me that you don't have a clue, I learned that a long time ago," Scott glared at his dad.

"I'm really hoping to avoid the embarrassment of dragging my own son into an interrogation room," McCall said firmly, meaning business. "Really hoping."

Olivia, Allison, and Isaac entered the office. Scott and Isaac let Olivia and Allison take the chairs and stood behind them. None of them were taking this very seriously; Isaac was eating some Icebreaker mints, for crying out loud.

"I'm not gonna lie, I'm more than a little disturbed," McCall admitted. "Not only by the number of missing parents, but the fact that it's Stiles' father, your father, and your mother."

Isaac shut his case of mints, popped one more into his mouth, and said, "Mine are both dead."

"Mine too," Olivia added, though, technically, that wasn't true. As far as anyone outside their little supernatural circle knew, Peter had disappeared from the long-term care unit in the hospital and had never been recovered.

"Save the cliché teenage apathy for your high school teachers," McCall glared at them. Olivia narrowed her eyes at him. What a dick. "The four of you know more than you're saying and I'm fully willing to keep you here all night if I have to."

"We don't know anything," Scott emphasized. "Stiles already told you that."

"And you can't keep us here," Olivia glared at the giant McCall, recalling some of the information her Uncle Thomas told her about his job. "Not without some kind of warrant."

Agent McCall gestured to the desk full of weapons. "I've got a desk full of probable cause."

Allison scoffed quietly and stood from her chair. "My father is a highly respected private security consultant and federally licensed firearms dealer. That means he has to own a few weapons," she told them as she stepped toward the desk. She pointed to a large crossbow and then a huge knife. "Like this one hundred and seventy-five-pound tactical crossbow or this carbon steel marine combat knife," she then poked at one of the handguns. ".50AE Desert Eagle..."

She stopped for a moment and hummed before picking up a smoke grenade. "A smoke grenade with pull-ring igniter," she pulled the ring and threw the grenade toward McCall and the deputies. "Go!"

Olivia, Scott, and Isaac all scrambled out of the office after her, ducking to avoid the smoke currently choking up McCall and the others. Olivia, Allison, and Isaac got into Allison's car and Scott sat on his motorbike and drove away from the apartment. They only stopped when they reached the woods, where a sign prohibited entrance to the preserve after dark.

As Olivia got out of the car, a scream ripped its way out of her throat. She didn't even notice that Isaac and Scott immediately covered their eyes, too focused on the feelings that overwhelmed her. Not only had Stiles gotten hurt—and she didn't know how, which worried her all the more—but Lydia was screaming and she felt everything her cousin felt. Someone was dead, more than one person was dead.

"Olivia, what's wrong?" Allison grabbed Olivia's hands, which were covering her ears, and pulled them away from her head as she stopped screaming. "Olivia?"

"Stiles is hurt," Olivia croaked, her throat now in horrible pain from the combination of the garrote and the loud scream that had escaped her. "And Lydia, she screamed. Someone's dead."

"Is it Derek or Stiles?" Scott asked worriedly.

"No, I would have known if it was," the tether that connected her with Derek wasn't lit and Stiles was, though it wasn't a dangerous feeling that came from it. "It's someone else. Maybe one of the alphas."

"I'll call Stiles and you can call Derek," Isaac offered.

Olivia nodded in agreement and pulled out her phone, quickly pressing on Derek's contact to call him.

"Ollie, what's wrong?" Derek answered a hint of panic in his voice. "We were on out way out of Beacon Hills when we heard Lydia scream."

"I think one of more of the alphas are dead," she told him. "Are you okay? Did you get out in time?"

"We did," Derek confirmed. "but we're heading back to the loft now to check on Lydia. I'll call you, okay?"

"Okay, be careful, both of you," Olivia bit the inside of her cheek. "Love you."

"Love you, Ollie," both Derek and Cora chorused before ending the call.

"I didn't get anything from Stiles," Isaac walked up to her side, giving her a worried look. "Did you get Derek?"

"Yeah, he's okay for now. He and Cora are going back to the loft to check on Lydia," Olivia told him as Scott and Allison walked over to them. "What if Stiles...?"

"He's not," Scott tried to comfort her. "I don't get it, though."

"Well, we can't wait for him," Isaac decided. "Come on."

They all turned away from the vehicles, only to come face-to-face with Deucalion. "You're cutting it a little close, aren't we, Scott?"

"We got a little delayed," Scott informed him. "Where are the others?"

They knew that one of them, if not all three of them, had died. When Deucalion spoke, he only confirmed it, unbeknownst to him. "Occupying themselves with other pursuits."

Olivia inhaled deeply and steeled her nerves, speaking up, "Well, I've come with Scott to join you. If you'll still have me, of course."

God, I can't believe I'm sucking up to a blind, psychotic, alpha werewolf, she lamented privately.

"Of course, you're still welcome," Deucalion said pleasantly. "You, Scott, and I will made a good team."

Olivia exchanged a nervous look with Scott before he turned to Allison and Isaac. "Okay, get Stiles and then get to the root cellar, okay?" he told them. "We'll keep Jennifer away long enough for you to get them out of there."

"How are you gonna do that?" Isaac wondered.

"I have a plan."

"Sir," Olivia spoke up uncomfortably. "Uh, Mr. Deucalion."

"Please, just call me Deucalion, Olivia," he chuckled pleasantly as they walked through the woods, heading to an unknown location.

"Deucalion, right," she corrected herself, ignoring the half-amused look that Scott was giving her. "I just wanted to know why you wanted me as part of your pack. I mean, other than the fact that I'm an anchoram."

"Anchorams are rare, as you likely know. But what you may not know, is that they are immensely powerful. You've harnessed most of your powers, yes?" he glanced at her, even though he most likely couldn't see her (Scott had told her what Gerard told him about Deucalion; he wasn't always blind).

"Some. I can calm a werewolf down if they're losing control, or use that same ability against them during a fight," Olivia shared her progress. "I know when my pack members are in danger or close to death and I know how to locate them."

"But's only for your pack mates," Deucalion said knowingly. "One day, when you master those abilities, you'll go on until you've unlocked them all."

"What do you mean?"

"At the height of your powers, you will be able to locate any supernatural creature in the world. You'll be able to use their strengths against them, like you do for werewolves now. You can physically make a werewolf lose their lycanthropy, making them human again," Deucalion listed, the most recent ability making Olivia and Scott shared a look of shock. "And, of course, using the banshee side of you, you will be able to predict the death of anyone you hold dear to your heart, not just your pack mates. Every anchoram is different, though."

She could hardly believe the magnitude of her abilities. In all honestly, it sounded like a lot. Maybe too much. "How do you know all of this?"

"My great-great-great-grandmother's mother was an anchoram," Deucalion told her. "Her name was Marguerite Richardson, nee Hale."

Olivia looked at him in surprise. "We're related?"

"Very distantly. I used to be great friends with your aunt."

"Wow."

She honestly didn't know how to react to that.

She and Deucalion fell silent and the three of them continued walking. The storm got progressively worse the more they walked on. The wind was strong, the rain felt like glass against their skin, and it was so dark Olivia was having trouble seeing, using only the outlines of Scott and Deucalion to keep going.

Finally, though they entered a distillery. The one that Derek and Paige used go when they wanted private time.

"You said you had a plan," Deucalion reminded Scott once they were under the protection of the metal roof.

"On the first day of class, Jennifer sent all of us a message. It was the last line from Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness," Scott told him. "I got a message of my own to send to her."

He proceeded to take out his phone and gave it to Olivia so she could film him. He stood in front of the revenge symbol that they all had seen many times before, and Olivia started filming.

"See this symbol?" he pointed at the swirl all the while glaring at the camera. "It's a symbol of revenge. You talk about balance, about saving people? We know what you really want...And now, you know where to find us."

Olivia stopped filming and handed the phone back to Scott, who sent the message to Jennifer right away.

"And now, we wait," Deucalion sighed.

They only waited ten minutes until they came. Yes, they; Derek was with Jennifer. It confused the hell out of Olivia. Was Jennifer forcing him onto her side? Was he actually on her side? Was he acting like he was on Jennifer's side to catch her off guard while he was really on their side?"

"Derek," she breathed. "what are you doing?"

"This might be hard to believe, but I'm actually trying to help you both," Derek eyed her and Scott meaningfully.

He was fooling Jennifer, he was actually on their side—not Deucalion's, Olivia's and Scott's side.

"Ooh, like brother against brother...and sister," Deucalion commented, almost tiredly. "How very American this is," he faced Jennifer as he brought together his seeing cane. "Are you ready, Jennifer, hmm? Did you gather your herbs, pray to your ancient gods and your oak trees, slit a baby's throat, perhaps? Should we show them why you needed to sacrifice nine innocent people just to face me? ...Or is it twelve now?"

Deucalion's eyes glowed red and his wolf features appeared on his face. Surprisingly, Derek was the one to make the first move. He swiped his arm at him, but Deucalion simply grabbed the arm, and then the other one. With Derek trapped, Jennifer went up to the plate. Using whatever powers she had, she threw them at Deucalion, expecting them to work.

Except they didn't.

As Scott slipped something into Olivia's hand, she closed her eyes and brought up her tether map. She found Deucalion easily this time, in between Derek's bright blue and Scott's orange tethers. It didn't surprise her, since Deucalion was clearly the most powerful werewolf she'd come across—it made since that he was easy to find. What would be hard, however, was fighting to use his control against him.

She heard grunts and groans from Jennifer and Derek as she focused on Deucalion's deep red dot, which was also larger than her the other werewolves she had come across. Despite how tired she was, both physically and mentally, she used all the power she had left to hit his dot with her bright purple blasts. She hit him but he actually was able to push back against her, forcefully making her take a step back.

She gritted her teeth and raised her hands toward him. She felt her power build within her and she projected it toward him. For a second, just a second, his features started to fade, long enough for Derek to knock him over. Then he was back up and throwing Derek across the distillery and then stomping toward Jennifer and lifting her up by the neck.

He forced her down on her knees in front of Scott. "Kill her," he ordered Scott, his voice demonic. "Do it."

Scott didn't move, though, and that pissed Deucalion off. He roared loudly, so powerfully that Olivia had to fight to stand and Scott dropped to the floor, his wolf features out on display.

"Now kill her," Deucalion demanded once again. "Your parents are dying. That storm you hear, she's burying them alive. It's her connection to the telluric currents. Kill her and it ends."

"It won't end," Jennifer objected forcefully. "Not with me. He'll have you kill everyone you love. It's what he does."

"They're dying, Scott," Deucalion tried to get Scott back on his side. "Your mother and the parents of your best friends. Kill her now and it's over. Become the alpha you were meant to be. Become a killer."

"Scott."

The firm way in which Olivia said her friend's name made him stiffen. She knew that she had given him some control over the shift that Deucalion forced upon him. They both knew that if Scott killed Jennifer, he would no longer be a true alpha. And that was exactly what Deucalion wanted from him.

Scott glared at Deucalion. "They're not dead yet."

"Who's going to save them? Your friends?"

Scott shook his head and said determinately, "My pack."

Deucalion looked at him for only a moment before he threw Jennifer to the side and raced over to Scott, snarling furiously. He grabbed one of Scott's clawed hands and held it up, forcing him to hold it out.

"Maybe you just need a little guidance," he gritted through his teeth, guiding him over to Jennifer.

At once, Olivia had her hands up again, the arrow tip that Scott had given her, which he snagged from Allison's apartment, in one hand. She pulled together her power. Her anger and fear and all that anxiety that had piled up inside adding to it.

She screamed as her power blasted itself into her tether map and right at Deucalion's dot. His grip on Scott immediately faltered so much that Scott managed to free himself and he staggered, blinking rapidly. \

"Scott!"

"I forgot to tell you something," Scott spoke loudly over the grunts that Deucalion forced out of his lips while he struggled to fight off Olivia's attack. "Something that Gerard told me. Deucalion isn't always blind."

At the same time as Scott, Olivia threw her arrowhead at the concrete by Deucalion's feet. Both of the arrowheads were flash bolts; they lit up at contact and Deucalion practically fell on the floor. Olivia winced at the bright light, obviously effected by the bolts, but not like Derek, Scott, and Deucalion were, and dropped her hands, more than a little tired out.

It didn't help that the lunar eclipse had started. Like werewolves lost their power during the eclipse, it appeared that she did too. She leaned one hand against the wall as Derek ran over to her, allowing him to steady her.

On all three werewolves, their features had gone away.

"The eclipse," Deucalion stumbled to his feet. "it started."

They all noticed that Jennifer was gone at the same time. As they all looked over to the entrance of the distillery, Scott whispered, "Oh, no."

Jennifer dramatically entered the distillery, her disguise of a beautiful face gone. She was also wearing a completely different outfit from before, which was pretty weird. Olivia didn't know how she changed within a minute and she had to admit she liked the outfit Jennifer was wearing before more than the one she was wearing now.

She shrieked as she held a handout to Scott and threw him against the wall. She didn't make a move toward Olivia, which had to do with the fact that she was leaning against Derek, but went straight to Deucalion. He fell to the floor and Jennifer was there beside him within a second, grabbing his head and bashing it against the concrete repeatedly.

Blood had started pouring out of the wound at the back of Deucalion's head and his eyes rolled back into his head before Derek interfered. "Jennifer!" she stopped and looked back at him. "He doesn't know."

"Know what?" she growled back at him.

"What you really look like," Derek told her. "He knows the cost of bringing Kali into his pack, but he's never seen the price you paid."

Jennifer paused for a full minute. "No. No, he hasn't," she said finally before turning her attention to Deucalion. She placed her hand over Deucalion's eyes and she must have healed them because he started to scream in pain. When Jennifer released him from her grip and stood up, she ordered him, "Turn to me. Turn to me!"

When Deucalion turned to face Jennifer, his blue eyes were no longer cloudy. Honestly, he didn't react too badly to Jennifer's real face. It didn't seem to be therapeutic for Jennifer like she thought it would be. She changed back to her fake face and pulled her right arm back to finally kill the alpha.

But instead, she faltered. Derek let go of Olivia, gesturing over at Scott to take his place since she didn't have much of her energy back, and walked over to Jennifer and caught her.

"What is this?" she asked weakly.

"Healing him made you weak, just like healing Cora did to me," Derek informed her. "You won't have your strength for at least a few minutes."

"Then you do it," Jennifer's voice broke. "Kill him."

"No."

She looked at Derek, surprised, while Olivia smiled proudly. "What?"

"Like my mother used to say, I'm a predator. I don't have to be a killer," Derek moved his hand from her back up to her neck, squeezing it tightly. "Let them go."

Jennifer struggled with his grip and gained enough of her strength back to throw Derek a few feet away from her. He landed against a random bale of hay and raced to him, punching him forcefully in the face, two times, then three times.

Olivia threw herself out of Scott's arms and into the line of fire. She pushed Derek away, knowing that the eclipse would end at any second, and received the blow that was meant for him to the face. Her head reared by from the hit, but she managed to kick Jennifer away from her.

At that moment, Olivia felt her powers rush back into her body. It felt like a vibration. Something that she had gotten so used to being there, she hadn't noticed it. The eclipse was over and Derek and Scott had their powers back—and so did Deucalion.

Derek flew through the air and hit Jennifer, holding her against the floor. "Your fifteen minutes are up."

Jennifer managed to get up and dodged the attack that Scott gave her. Before either of them do anything else, she had taken some mountain ash from her pocket and threw it around her, creating a barrier that would protect her from Scott, Derek, and Deucalion.

"Like I told you, Derek, either you or the parents," Jennifer said nastily. Apparently all of her "love" for Derek was gone. "Well, I guess I'll just have to take them now. In a few minutes, they'll be dead and I won't need a lunar eclipse, even to kill a demon wolf."

Derek and Olivia exchanged a horrified look. By the time they looked away, Scott had stormed over to the circle of mountain ash and held his hands up, pushing them against the supernatural barrier between him and Jennifer.

"You've tried this before, Scott," Jennifer taunted him. "I don't remember you having much success."

Scott pushed harder at the barrier, his body leaning further and further into it. Blue light streaked past his body as he broke into it, getting a hand through. The more he pushed through the barrier, the brighter his tether looked in Olivia's head, until finally, it turned a deep, alpha-werewolf red.

The barrier fell apart. Scott was an alpha.

Jennifer had fallen to the floor from the small eruption that occurred when the mountain ash barrier broke. She frantically crawled away from Scott, looking up at him with horrified amazement. "How did you do that?"

Scott glowered down at her. "I'm an alpha now," he said powerfully. "Whatever you're doing to cause this storm, make it stop or I'll kill you myself. I don't care what it does to the color of my eyes."

"It won't change the color of mine, so allow me," Deucalion growled as he strode past Scott. With one swift move, he threw his clawed hand forward and slit the length of Jennifer's throat. She choked on her own blood and she slumped down onto the ground, dead. Olivia was not reluctant to admit that she was glad to see Jennifer dead.

As soon as Jennifer's heart stopped, the storm above them ceased. Olivia slowly reached for her pocket, the blood loss from the blow she received on her face from Jennifer making her sluggish, and called Stiles, hoping that he and everyone else was uninjured and safe.

"Olivia?"

"Hi," Olivia sighed in relief from just hearing his voice. "are you okay?"

"Yeah, we're okay," he confirmed. "We're all okay. What about you and Scott, are you okay?"

Olivia glanced at Scott and Derek, who stood close together discussing something. "Sort of."

"Do you think you and Scott could come and get us?"

"Yeah, of course."

"Great," Stiles huffed out a laugh. "And, uh, bring a ladder."

"I'll get right on that," Olivia giggled. "Hang tight. We'll be there soon."

Derek walked over to her as she ended the call, bent down, and helped her to her feet. He wrapped an arm around her and let her lean all of her weight against him while they walked over to Scott, who was standing in front of Deucalion with a stern look on his face.

"My mother told me you were a man of vision once," Derek told Deucalion, his voice strong. "We're letting you go because we hope you can be that man again."

"But if you're not, then having your eyesight back won't matter," Scott threatened him. "because you'll never see us coming."

With that, the three of them turned around and left the distillery.

Unfortunately, Olivia ended up in the hospital once everything was over. Because of Jennifer's strength, she had a concussion and the bruising around her neck was worse than she, or anyone, thought. She only stayed for one night and by the next morning, she was itching to get out of there. She wasn't a fan of hospitals, especially Beacon Hills Memorial—no offense meant to Melissa.

That morning, only two hours before Natalie was supposed to come and get her checked out, Derek and Cora interrupted her and Stiles' conversation. Just by the looks on their faces, she didn't like what they were going to tell her.

Yeah, she really didn't like it.

Cora was the first to speak. "Ollie—"

"You're leaving again, aren't you?" Olivia interrupted her, recognizing the guilt on her face.

"I am," Cora confirmed with a slight nod. "With Derek no longer an alpha and Boyd gone...I can't stay. I don't really...get along with your friends."

Olivia frowned but ultimately, she knew Cora had found a good life down in South America where she had been living for the past six and a half years. She was going to miss her fiercely, especially since she just discovered that she was alive, but she had to let Cora go so she could be happy.

"You'll call, right?" Olivia asked finally.

"Of course I will," Cora leaned forward and gave her a goodbye hug. "I love you, Ollie."

"I love you, too," she said as Cora pulled back. She looked at Derek and added, "Let me guess, you're going with her."

"Just dropping her off," Derek corrected her. "Peter's coming too."

"And you're coming back?" she checked, a little worried that they wouldn't be back and she'd lose her Hale family members all in one go.

Derek heard her heart start to race. "We'll come back," he confirmed taking her head and squeezing it. "Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone."

"How can I? You're taking all the stupid with you," Olivia finished the quote, thanking whatever supreme being that was out there for Chris Evans, Sebastian Stan, and the friendship that came out of Captain America: The First Avenger. "I love you, Der."

"I love you, too, Ollie," he promised. "We'll send Stiles back in. Remember what I told you—"

"Wear a condom, yeah I got it."

"Actually, I was going to remind you about the pepper spray and rape whistle."

"Get out of here!" Olivia took the paper cup she had been drinking out of and threw it at Derek, who caught it easily.

Derek laughed and he and Cora left the room, giving her one last goodbye. Her smile slipped from her lips as she watched them walk away, but she wasn't able to be sad for long. Stiles had waltzed right back into the room and took his seat on the chair next to her bed.

"So," he grinned at her. "We defeated Jennifer and Deucalion is no longer his evil self. You know what that means?"

"No, but I bet you're going to tell me," she smiled back at him.

Stiles chuckled. "I am. It's time to get engaged."

"Ha! Very funny, sweetcheeks."

(Gif is not mine)

#teen wolf rewrite #stiles stilinski x oc #stiles stilinksi x reader #teen wolf #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski fanfiction #teen wolf fanfiction #stiles stilinski x original character

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flowerfan2 · 4 years

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Affinity - Ch. 22 (10.22) - Complete

Well folks, here it is - the coda for Ep. 10.22, and the final chapter in Affinity. Read from the beginning here.

McDanno, 40k total. A03.

Chapter 22 (10.22)

Steve clears his throat and withdraws his hand from Catherine’s.

“I appreciate this, I do,” he says softly. “But I’m with Danny.”

His phone pings with another text. He glances quickly at it, then shows it to Catherine. It’s a photo of Danny stretched out on Steve’s bed, one arm folded up behind his head. Despite the fact that Danny is clothed, wearing his t-shirt and shorts, it’s incredibly sexy, and it fills Steve with a wave of longing.

Catherine just stares for a moment. “If you’re with Danny, why are you leaving?”

“It’s not forever.”

*****

Steve texts Danny often, keeping in touch as he promised. But it’s a few days before he sends this one.

Catherine was on the plane.

Danny’s response comes quickly, and in retrospect, he should have known what he’d say.

I know, dumbass.

Steve snorts a little smile, and then types back. Care to fill me in? He realizes his mistake just after he hits send – he didn’t exactly fill Danny in right away – but Danny doesn’t press him on it.

Lincoln put her in touch with me, to get your flight info. She wanted to surprise you.

Well, she definitely did.

Steve thinks back to that last morning with Danny, sitting on the beach behind his house. Danny knew Steve was about to fly off into the sunset with Catherine, and didn’t say a word.

Danny, I’m sorry.

Why? Are you with her right now?

No. Catherine had pushed pretty hard, before they landed in L.A., for them to spend at least a few days together. She showed him photos of a house in Tahoe she could borrow from a friend, suggested a drive along the California coast. But after six hours on the plane, they had done enough catching up as far as Steve was concerned. He wasn’t on this trip to hang out with old friends, or old flames.

He breathes a sigh of relief when Danny replies.

I’m good if you’re good. Text me when you get to Joe’s.

*****

Steve does text Danny when he gets to Joe’s ranch in Montana. Joe had left the place to him, and he figured he’d sell it sooner or later, but hadn’t quite gotten around to it yet. He’d had a pretty busy year, he could be forgiven for not having time to consider real estate transactions.

Joe’s ranch had seemed to Steve to be the perfect place to stay for a while and clear his head, and try to find the peace that he was looking for.

He was wrong, wrong, wrong. Danny, on the other hand, was completely right – Joe’s place held far too many unhappy memories to be a place of refuge for him, even if it had been for Joe. Danny had the good grace not to say “I told you so,” however, probably because Steve was on the edge of a panic attack by the time Danny gave up trying to interpret Steve’s increasingly vague texts and called him.

“Babe, where are you, right now?”

“Joe’s ranch,” Steve says.

“I got that, but where, exactly? Describe it.”

“Uh…” Steve draws in a tight breath and looks around. “Kitchen.”

“Can you go outside?”

“Sure…”

“Go outside, and walk away from the house. Find a tree.”

“A tree?”

“Yeah, just walk away from the house. Are you walking?”

“Yeah, I’m walking.”

“Tell me what you see.”

Their conversation continues on like this, Steve wandering around the property, Danny directing him to places where he didn’t see anyone die. Danny prompts Steve to describe his surroundings - the mountains he can see, the breeze he can feel, the scent of pine trees he can smell. There’s no blood, no fighting, no gunshots, not anymore.

After a while Steve sags down to the ground and sighs out a long breath. He closes his eyes and thinks back to how he felt here at the ranch after Joe died, how his anger consumed him. He remembers, then, seeing Danny appear at the ranch unannounced, striding up to meet him, his strong arms coming around Steve and holding him tight. He’s got at least one good memory in this place.

“Danny?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

*****

Steve’s next destination was going to be a remote cabin on a lake in British Columbia, accessible only by seaplane. But his reservation isn’t for two more weeks, and he no longer wants to stay at Joe’s until then. Besides, he’s not sure that he’s up for something quite that remote.

He contacts the rental car company to tell them of his change in plans and starts driving. He’s got a GPS, but he calls Danny so many times to ask him to check on cheap hotels, and restaurants, and sights to see, that Danny teases him about starting a side job as a travel agent.

Steve spends some time driving near Yellowstone, the scenery taking his breath away. Hawaii has mountains, but it doesn’t have glaciers or grizzly bears. Not that he sees any bears, but he could. It’s probably for the best.

He makes a point of not just stopping and taking in his surroundings, but of trying to still his mind. Steve’s never really gotten into meditation before, but he thinks that here in the empty wilderness, with this vast beauty all around him, he’s getting close. He feels like he’s just going through the motions at first, making himself comfortable sitting on a rock, breathing deeply, closing his eyes and trying to experience what he’s feeling without resisting or trying to change it. He opens his eyes and lets himself become aware of the flowers swaying in the breeze, the feel of the sun on his skin, the noise of the insects and the wind in the trees. He tries to hone in on a particular detail - the temperature of the air, cool even when the sun is out. When his thoughts stray (to pain, to loss, to home, to Danny) he pulls them back to the sounds and sensations around him, or at least he tries.

Steve camps out several nights in a row, forgetting that even with the spare battery his phone will eventually die. He hikes to an alpine lake and messes around trying to catch a fish, surprising himself when he succeeds. The urge to call Danny and brag about it nearly overwhelms him, but he can’t even take a picture.

The next day he hikes back to his car, drives to the nearest motel, and charges his phone while he showers. He’s four hours ahead of Hawaii, and he waits until almost eleven to call Danny, hoping to catch him at home, maybe even done with dinner, settling down with a beer down by the beach. Steve can imagine Danny so perfectly, sitting in his chair in his cut-off jean shorts and worn out t-shirt, the setting sun turning his skin golden, a half-drunk Longboard hanging from his fingertips. For a minute the longing to be there next to Danny hits Steve so hard it’s like a punch to the gut, but Steve takes a few deep breaths and reminds himself that he’s away for a reason, even if he can’t quite remember what it is at the moment. Gathering his thoughts, Steve presses the button to call Danny. He nearly cheers with glee when Danny picks up and Steve discovers that he’s timed it perfectly, and they shoot the shit until Steve falls asleep to the sound of Danny’s voice in his ear.

*****

It occurs to Steve, in between stops at greasy roadside diners, nights alone on scratchy sheets, and more hiking than he’s done in years, that he’s supposed to be doing something besides touring national parks. Or at least, that touring national parks is supposed to be a means to an end.

Steve doesn’t like to question his plan (and he sure isn’t going to question why he doesn’t want to question his plan). He figures he just needs to keep moving. He doesn’t know what else to do. Or at least that’s what he keeps telling himself.

*****

Steve turns in his rental car in Denver, and springs for a decent hotel with excellent internet. He surfs the web for far too long, reading up on what’s been happening in the world. Nothing good. He finds himself checking sites on news closer to home, too. He reads about a new Hawaiian style farm–to-table restaurant opening in downtown Honolulu that Danny would love and finds himself clicking on the reservation button before he realizes that he probably can’t make it for this Friday at seven. Someone else is going to enjoy that table for two, but it won’t be him.

He considers making the reservation anyway, sending the information to Danny and suggesting that he go check out the place, on Steve. But he can’t decide how exactly to word it, or what he even would mean by it – he obviously doesn’t want to Danny to bring a date, and although he’s not proud of the thought, he doesn’t really want to risk Danny asking someone as a friend but it turning into something romantic. Steve could ask Tani to take him, or Junior, but that’s kind of weird, too. Is Steve ridiculous enough to want Danny to go by himself and sit alone with his drink, like a damsel waiting for her sailor to return from the sea? Steve closes the website and moves on to looking at the hours for Denver’s natural history museum. Presumably he can’t get himself into any trouble there.

After a few days in Denver, more to amuse Danny than anything else, Steve books a flight to Newark. Danny emails him an annotated list of restaurants and can’t miss tourist attractions, including a link to a Sopranos sites tour that makes Steve laugh. At the bottom of the list is an address and phone number for Eddie and Clara Williams.

Steve surprises himself with how much he wants to see Danny’s parents. It wakes him up in the middle of the night, the pull he feels. He imagines sitting down in their kitchen, eating Clara’s lasagna, shooting the shit with Eddie over a beer. He’s half asleep, picturing the scene, how he’d tease Danny about eating too much garlic bread, how they’d argue about the last piece of tiramisu, when he realizes with a wave of physical pain that even if he goes to the Williams’ place in Jersey, Danny won’t be there.

Steve texts Danny from the airport in Denver, but it’s barely four a.m. in Hawaii. He doesn’t expect a response right away. But just before his plane takes off, he gets one, and he smiles as he closes his eyes and leans against the window.

*****

Danny’s in the break room at headquarters, fighting with the new coffee machine Lou swears will change his life, trying not to feel sorry for himself. Steve has been away for almost two months, and Danny has missed the crap out of him. He knows Steve misses him too – it’s obvious in his constant texting, how he carefully times phone calls for when he knows Danny will be home, how he consults Danny on ideas for each step of his trip.

The team has rallied around Danny, bringing over food and staying to hang out so often that Danny has to remind himself to make extra beer runs on his way home from work. Junior’s spending about half his time at Steve’s house and half at Tani’s – Danny is sure he’d be at Tani’s full time, if not for some unnecessary but no less appreciated belief that Danny needs the company.

They’ve been rotating partners at work, no one wanting to presume to take Steve’s place as Danny’s partner. Danny’s most comfortable with Tani, and sometimes Adam, although for vastly different reasons (Tani prods at him until he talks about what’s bothering him; Adam doesn’t). Lou tends to stay back at base, and Junior and Quinn go where they’re needed. Danny finds himself missing Chin and Kono, wondering to himself how the hell he turned out to be the last man standing from their original squad. It doesn’t help the strangeness to know that Danny is now in charge; although Danny insisted in his obligatory meeting with the governor that it was only temporary, he’s not sure anyone believes him.

When Danny inevitably wakes up in the dark in Steve’s bed, heart beating fast with the echo of a nightmare, it always takes him a minute to remember why Steve’s not there. Sometimes he thinks Steve is in Mexico looking for Doris. Back then Danny had spent every day trying not to imagine Steve dying, trying to understand why Steve felt that his life was worth so little that he would put it at risk over and over for a woman that didn’t want his help.

Steve’s absence is different now, and Danny respects that. This time Steve’s not in any unusual danger, and he’s on this mission for his own benefit, not anyone else’s. It still sucks sleeping alone, but Danny can handle it. Especially with Steve sending him daily pictures of every squirrel in the northwestern United States.

“Danny – there you are.” Tani bursts into the break room, startling Danny out of his thoughts. “You’ve got a call.”

Danny’s hand goes to his pocket, and he realizes Tani is holding his phone, which he had left charging in his office. “What’s up?” he asks, feeling a shiver run down his spine as he takes in the expression on her face.

“They called me too.” Lou joins them, his voice low as he puts a hand on Danny’s shoulder. “It’s Steve. He’s been in an accident.”

A blank calm washes over him and then Danny’s sprinting down the hall, his mind quickly providing the quickest route to the airport to avoid afternoon traffic. “Tani, get me on the next flight to Jersey. Then call my dad, have him go straight to the hospital. Lou, you’re in charge, bring in Lincoln if you need to-”

“Danny, wait,” Tani grabs his arm. “You’re not flying anywhere.”

Danny jerks away from Tani. “What, are you crazy?” Danny has to be with Steve, he’s hurt, oh god oh god he’s hurt, please don’t let him be --

“No, listen,” Lou says. “Steve’s not in Newark.”

“He didn’t get on the flight?” Then he’s still in Denver, Denver is a few hours closer, that’s okay, that’s good.

“Danny, he’s here, on Oahu. He’s at Queen’s Medical. He’s here.”

*****

Steve sits on the hospital bed, gingerly touching the bandage covering the cut on his forehead. He glances at his watch, frowning to see that another half hour has gone by while he waits to be discharged. This is not how he planned his return to Hawaii, but at least Danny doesn’t know yet. If he gets out of here soon, Steve still has time to get home and shower before Danny finds out.

“Where’s Steve, McGarrett, they said he was back here – I’m his partner-”

Or maybe not.

“Steve.” Danny skids to a stop in the doorway. His eyes look wild, and his hair is mussed. He’s breathing hard, his chest heaving. Danny is the best thing Steve has seen in months.

He jumps up, quick to reassure him. “Danny, it’s okay, I’m fine-”

“Steve.” Danny takes a few steps closer, his eyes flickering up and down Steve’s body. He reaches out, his hands trembling.

Steve steps towards him. “Really, I’m okay. Cab driver got rear-ended, no big deal, just bumps and bruises. I didn’t want them to call you. I wanted to surprise you.”

Danny blinks. “Surprise me?”

“Yeah, I figured I’d get some beers, hang out down on the beach until you got home.”

Danny just stares at him for a long moment, then rocks back, the tension draining out of his body as a smile teases at his lips. “You kind of blew it.”

Steve shrugs mock apologetically. “Honolulu drivers. What can you do.” Steve steps forward, closing the space between them. Then Danny’s shaking hands take hold of Steve’s waist, and Steve’s palms are on Danny’s face. “I missed you,” Steve breathes out. “Every goddamn day. So much.”

Danny presses a soft kiss to Steve’s lips, then another, and pulls back until Steve can see his eyes. “I missed you too.” Danny bites his lip, and Steve can feel him steel himself as he looks up at Steve. “How long are you here for?”

“No, that’s not – I’m not just here for a visit. I’m done.”

“Done?”

Steve hands fall to Danny’s shoulders, run up and down his arms, muscles still tense under his dress shirt. “Done traveling. I’m back.”

“But…” Danny looks up at him, hope in his eyes. “You said you needed to get space. To find peace.”

Steve snorts a little, grin tugging at his cheeks. “Apparently I’m a cliché.”

Danny cocks his head, a matching grin spreading slowly across his face. “Oh? In what way, exactly, are you a cliché?”

Steve grabs Danny and kisses him soundly, hampered only by the fact that they’re each on the edge of slightly hysterical laughter. He wraps his arms around Danny’s shoulders and digs his face into his neck. “I didn’t need to go anywhere. Whatever I’ve got to do, whatever I’ve got to think through, it’s not gonna work if I’m away. What I need is right here.” He squeezes Danny harder. “Right here.”

“You came back for the pineapples?” Danny teases.

“Yeah, for the pineapples,” Steve says, kissing Danny again full on the lips, then pulling back to look him in the eyes. “And, you know, you. The love of my life.”

Danny beams up at him, his cheeks pink with happiness. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Steve knows what he wants now. More importantly, he’s going to let himself have it. “Come on, Danny. It’s time to go home.”

#mcdanno #H50 #Hawaii Five-O #10.22 #Affinity

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pynkhues · 4 years

Note

Hey here’s a propmt for playing house. I want you to write something where Beth and Rio have to explain to one of the kids where babies come from 😂😂 I can just see the arkwardness 🌹‼️🤪🥰❤️

Sorry this has taken so long! Hope you like it

Set in The Centre and Circumference / Domestic Fic universe

“Hmmm, I don’t know if I like this,” Annie says, squinting across the backyard as Beth passes her a mug of coffee, moving to sit beside Ruby on the other outdoor setting, following her sister’s gaze out across the yard. Beth hums in agreement, watching as Emma glances back at them, Jane and Marcus on either side of her, whispering things into her ears like an angel and a devil on her shoulder, and god, who’s she kidding. A matching pair of devils.

“Right?” Beth says, taking a sip of her own coffee as Marcus suddenly starts talking louder, becoming audible albeit not intelligible, gesturing to Jane and Emma together, and then to himself, like he’s trying to convince them both of something. She frowns, considering them. “They’ve been like this since I picked them up from school yesterday.”

Well, Jane and Marcus have at least, Beth thinks. It’d been weird. They’d been unusually quiet when she’d gotten there, sitting together in the back of the classroom, furiously whispering to each other which had their poor teacher laughing nervously (and god, he’d been so relieved when Beth had led them out the door to take them home, a fact she has approximately zero intention of telling Rio any time soon. Although even now the thought makes her groan – parent-teacher night’s next month after all, and she’s not sure she’s ready for the laundry list of Jane and Marcus’ misbehaviour, at least not while sitting next to an inevitably irritable and punishment-scheming Rio).

The fact of all of that alone had been strange enough, but they’d just sort of - - stared at her, like they’d never seen her before. In the classroom, on the car ride home, even when she had all five kids set up at the dining room table doing homework. Stared at her until Beth had jokingly made some robot noises which - - okay, they were seven and the unimpressed look on Jane’s face and the pitying one on Marcus’ had Beth already dreading adolescence.

Thing is, it hadn’t even stopped at her.

Rio had gotten home from work just before dinner, and Jane hadn’t been able to stop looking at him either, but Marcus - - he’d barely been able to look at his father at all, had pointedly avoided him in a way that had Rio tense throughout dinner and then quiet in bed with her. The way his unhappiness over it oozed off him had had Beth pulling his head to her chest and massaging the tension out of his neck until his eyelashes fluttered shut against her skin and his breaths steadied at her breast.

She tells Annie and Ruby as much (albeit with a little less detail).

“You don’t think one of the mom’s has said anything to the kids about Rio again, do you?” Ruby asks, tone weighted with concern, and Beth rocks her head from side-to-side.

“I don’t think so? As much as I hate it, Rio wasn’t wrong when he said Marcus is used to kids saying things about him. Besides, why would that mean they were staring at me?”

Both Annie and Ruby seem to consider that, and Beth lets her gaze settle back on the kids, watching as Emma suddenly furiously shakes her head, Marcus still talking beside her. She clutches her doll to her chest, and Beth sighs, shifting to get up only - - only Emma’s not upset. She’s wrinkling her nose, like he’s just told her something gross. Beth sits back down, frowning, confused.

“Maybe they’ve just realised that you’re all ABC family hour, and gangfriend’s like, late nights on HBO,” Annie jokes, and Beth just gives her a look. “Speaking of gangfriend, where is he? Thought you said he’d been taking the weekends off when you guys have the kids?”

“He is. He just likes to go to the gym in the morning. He and a few other guys have this like, boxing group. They’re all pretty into it.”

And so’s she, if she’s honest. Likes Rio coming home a little sweaty and a lot relaxed, the tension eased from his body in a way she only usually sees when he’s fucked her until she can barely walk which is - - fun too, but not exactly helpful the weekends they have a houseful of kids and an errand list as long as her arm.

“Mm, I bet they are,” Annie hums dreamily. Her gaze flicks back to Beth. “You need to tell me where he goes.”

Beth snorts.

“What, so you can perv?”

It’s enough to make Ruby laugh and Annie to give them both a look of mock outrage, waving her arm out enough to spill her coffee on her jeans, but she barely seems to notice.

“Maybe I want to join, huh, did you think about that?” she says, and then, a breath later: “But for real. I’m single, and there’s something like, primal about watching hot guys box. I assume he’s boxing with other dark and broody babes? What am I saying, of course he is.”

And god, it’s not like Annie’s wrong. On the primal thing, or the other babes. Rio had tried to get her going to his trendy inner-city gym instead of the yoga studio at the club a few times now, and it had just been too much. She always finished working out before him, which meant she always ended up watching him until he was ready to go, and she’d never really understood it before him, but watching Rio box just did things to her. The strong, firm line of his body, glistening with sweat, the light agility of him on his feet, the power in his arms, in his legs, the way he usually won, and just - - god, she was always breathless by the time he was out of the ring, and then even more so when he fucked her up against the lockers in the change room, the metal cutting her back, his body slick with sweat against hers, the way he’d fuck her like a prize, his fingers bruising at her ass, and - -

Beth swallows thickly, crosses her legs, and Ruby stares at her, amused, eyebrows halfway up her forehead.

“You okay there, B?”

Beth waves her off, taking a sip of her coffee.

She’d stopped going after they got caught by a guy Rio knew, materialising out of nowhere and wolfwhistling right as Rio had slammed back into her and just - -

Seriously.

She blushes to the roots of her hair.

She could never go back.

Beside her, Annie suddenly lurches to her feet, finishing the last of her coffee and letting it hang limp from her hand. She gestures vaguely to Beth.

“As much as I’d love to unpack everything about that look, I should probably go,” she says. “Greg’s dropping Sadie off tomorrow and like, I haven’t done any dishes since he picked him up, so.”

Which is - - well, a pretty effective way to kill any of Beth’s leftover heat (she should really keep that in the back of her mind for when Rio’s feeling particularly – um – playful in public). Ruby seems to echo the disdain at least, and they both groan at Annie.

“Bitch, it has been a week and a half. Are you kidding me?”

“I would literally buy you a dishwasher myself if I thought you would ever actually use it,” Beth adds, and Annie laughs, opens her mouth to reply when Marcus and the girls suddenly appear at her side on the patio. Beth sits up a little taller, smiling at them, and Marcus smiles back, a picture of innocence as he says:

“Miss Elizabeth, do you and my daddy have sex?”

Somewhere inside, Beth can hear Kenny and Danny playing video games, can hear lunch gently simmering in the crockpot, can hear the faintest whir of the washing machine working through its cycle. Which is nice, she thinks blankly, her smile not shifting as she tries to process what Marcus has just said to her. She can’t quite look at Ruby, who even out of the corner of her eye she can see has her mouth hanging open, and she definitely can’t look at Annie, even if she does see her drop heavily back down into her chair (doesn’t even have to know for sure to know that she’s grinning).

Beth clears her throat, softening her gaze.

“Who told you that?” she asks, and beside him, Jane shrugs, a suspicious look on her face.

“Lucas Bircher. He said he saw his daddy naked and he put his penis inside his mommy’s butt and then his daddy told him that that was sex and it was how they made babies.”

“Not if it’s in her butt,” Ruby says quietly, taking a sip of her coffee when Beth spins around to glare at her. She drops her mouth open, planning to tell the kids what, she’s not sure, when Jane continues:

“But then we asked Kenny, and Kenny said growed-ups have sex because it’s fun and that you and Mr Rio do it all the time.”

And Beth blinks at that, heat flooding her cheeks, and she’s not sure if it’s more in embarrassment or anger, because god, she could kill him.

“He said what?”

“I said you’d never do that, mommy. I told them you and Mr Rio don’t like having fun,” Emma says authoritatively, and just like that, the dam breaks for Annie, her braying laugh exploding out of her as she collapses back into the chair.

“My daddy loves having fun,” Marcus insists with a frown, and Annie laughs even louder.

“Oh, he really does, kiddo, he really does.”

Beth spins around to glare at Annie, only to catch Emma and Jane in the process, who are looking at Beth unconvinced, which - - rude, Beth thinks. She’s a lot of fun!

“But how does putting a penis in your butt make a baby?” Jane says with a frown, and well, Beth swallows a grimace, looking helplessly over at Ruby, who just shrugs uselessly back at her, waving out a hand. Beth sighs, trying to remember how she’d explained it to Kenny, and - - right. She’d explained it through being pregnant with Jane, but Jane was the youngest, and there was barely a year and a half between Emma and Jane, and Marcus had no younger siblings (well, not until Jane), and Beth flounders a little.

“Well, you remember your Aunt Nancy,” Beth tries. “You remember how her belly got really big because it was busy making your cousin Dakota.”

Marcus looks at her blankly, but Jane and Emma both seem to think about it, Emma most of all, clutching her doll back to her chest, her forehead furrowing deeply.

“So Uncle Greg and Aunt Nancy had sex,” she says slowly, and Beth blinks as Annie’s laughter stutters, and right, this might not have been her best idea.

“Are you and Mr Rio trying to have a baby?” Emma asks, brightening suddenly, and Jane stares at Beth and scowls.

“You had enough babies. No more.”

Which is enough to make Marcus frown, like he categorically disagrees, and god, Beth wishes she could take this conversation back about ten minutes and…then maybe put a pin in it for ten years.

“No, we’re not trying to have a baby,” Beth says, ignoring Annie’s thank god, and Ruby’s muttered agreement, and she flushes again before she can help herself, adds: “We-“

But before she can get very far, Emma interrupts her.

“But then why are you having sex?”

Jane scoffs, rolls her eyes, shoving Emma’s arm.

“Kenny said it was fun, stupid.”

“I’m not stupid!”

“’Ey, nobody’s stupid.”

Rio’s voice cuts through the kids’ chatter like an arrow, and Beth spins on the spot before she can help herself, her eyes wide, mortified, because god, this is not a conversation anyone should have sprung on them, and she’s flushing to the roots of her hair all over again. Rio clocks it, forehead furrowing slightly at her as he strides forwards to stand beside her chair, his duffel bag from the gym slung over his shoulder, his knuckles still strapped, and he looks impossibly good in a pair of sweats and a loose tank. He pauses only when he suddenly sees all three sets of kid’s eyes wheel around onto him, and Beth feels it – the way his eyes dart first to Ruby, who’s suddenly looking incredibly enthralled by something in the sky, and then to Annie, who’s grinning so wide her face looks like it might split in two, and then to Beth, who starts mouthing words at him before she can help it, trying to give him a heads up, but he just returns the kids’ stare instead.

“Still doin’ this, huh?” he says, amused, or at least he is until Marcus asks him:

“Daddy, why do you have sex with Miss Elizabeth if you’re not making me a baby brother or sister?”

And honestly, it’d almost be funny – the short circuiting look on his face if Beth could summon a breath. At least Annie seems to find it funny, if the way Annie’s laugh twists into an almost strangled scream is anything to go by. Rio gives her a look that should just about kill her, before he turns his attention to Beth. He pauses briefly, taking in her flushed cheeks and her wide, slightly wet eyes, before he looks at the floor, then lets his gaze flick back up to her.

“Elizabeth, why is my son askin’ me about sex?”

His voice is deceptively calm, but she can hear the do-not-want strain underneath it, and Beth, she shakes her head.

“A kid at school talked about it,” she says apologetically. “And then Kenny maybe offered an - - an inappropriate opinion.”

Rio nods, unblinking, staring down at Marcus who just tilts his head, turning briefly back to Beth.

“Is sex why you kiss so much?” Marcus asks her, having not gotten an answer from his father, and Jane nods, adds:

“And why Mr Rio touches your boobies?”

“I don’t think boobies are for sex,” Marcus says authoritatively, and he glances over at Beth’s chest, squinting a little at them, like he’s trying to understand. “Miss Elizabeth’s are just big and really soft and like the best, most comfortablest pillow in the world, and my daddy likes things that are the best.”

“You need to kill me,” Annie whispers to Ruby. “My life will never get better than this moment.”

It earns her another sharp look from Rio, his jaw rocking forwards, before finally he huffs out a breath, stepping forwards on the patio to crouch down in front of the kids, his gaze shifting between them, and it’s almost unfair, how easily he can command their attention.

“I kiss Miss Elizabeth for a lot of reasons,” he tells them, and Beth feels her breath catch. “I kiss her because it’s fun, like Kenny said, and I kiss her because I like her, and I think she’s real pretty, and I kiss her sometimes to make her feel better, or make me feel better, and sometimes just when she’s talkin’ a lot,” and okay, Beth thinks, rolling her eyes. “And I kiss her coz she’s my girlfriend, remember?”

The kids all seem to consider this, their little faces scrunching up, and it’s Emma who asks:

“Do you kiss her when you have sex?”

“Yeah, I do,” he tells them easily, his voice soft. “Sex is somethin’ that grown ups do for all those reasons as well, and yeah, sometimes to make babies too. It’s how me and your ma made you,” he pokes Marcus gently in the belly, before glancing over at the girls. “And how your mama and your dad made you guys, but it ain’t just for that. Most important thing to remember is that sex is something special two grown ups who like each other and want to be with each other share together, and when you guys are a lot older, when you growin’ up, and you want to share that somethin’ special with a boyfriend or a girlfriend of your own, you come and talk to me and your mama about it, and we’ll help you make sure it’ll be somethin’ that’s gonna be real special, and real fun, yeah?”

The kids nod, placated, and she can tell they’re still a little curious, but at least for now the matter seems to be settled. Even more so when Rio suddenly claps his hands together, rising back up to his feet and grabbing his duffel. He yanks open the zip, pulling out a white paper bag, and says:

“Now who wants donuts?”

It’s seamless then, the utter delight that erupts on the kids faces, and Rio grins, nodding his head back towards the house, waving the bag at them.

“I’m gonna be checkin’ fingernails before you gettin’ one of these, so go clean ‘em up.”

The kids practically sprint into the house, giggling and Beth watches them go, amused if not still a little embarrassed.

“Sorry,” she says, wrinkling her nose, and Rio looks back at her, shrugs.

“Kids,” he replies simply. “You gonna have the talk with Kenny about appropriate conversations or you want me to?”

“I can,” Beth says with a sigh, although she doesn’t particularly want to. Rio just nods, takes her in, and Beth blinks, feels a heat shoot through her that really has no place right now. “Let me know if you need me to help you feel better after, yeah?”

It’s flippant, but it’s also - - god, it’s loaded, and Beth flushes, bites her lip, and Rio grins at her, waving a hand back at Annie and Ruby, adding a, “Ladies,” by way of greeting before darting back into the house, calling out to the kids, and Beth just watches him, a warmth spreading in her chest that she doesn’t really know what to do with.

“How does he do that?” Annie says behind her, and Beth reels around at where her sister is squinting after him, and Beth puts on her best groan.

“I know,” she says, playing up her resignation. “I hate it. I mean, I love it, but you know. I hate it.”

“Love it, huh?” Ruby says, and Beth blinks over at her, eyes scanning her face, and Ruby just wriggles her shoulders, sinking a little further down in her seat, taking another sip of coffee. “Just like he likes you, huh?”

And just - -

Beth flushes, squints, fumbles a little with her coffee mug.

“What are you talking about?”

And then Annie and Ruby are both laughing, and Beth rolls her eyes, shuffling up to her feet, grabbing their empty cups and telling Annie she should come with her, if she wants a demonstration on how to clean up after you eat, which only makes her sister squawk, and so what, if maybe Annie and Ruby look at her a little knowingly later too, when they catch Beth watching Rio carefully clean the powdered sugar from the donuts off the kids’ hands?

And so what if maybe Ruby just smiles at her, watching Rio set the table for lunch?

So what if she lets Rio make her feel better later, and so what if he makes her laugh, tickling her bare chest with his stubble, if he bites her breast in that way that makes her breathless, so what if it is fun, so what if she lov - -

Oh.

#beth x rio #the center and circumference #my fic #prompt fills #beth boland #rio #ruby hill #annie marks #emma boland #marcus #jane boland

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dvp95 · 5 years

Text

whispers trail and linger

pairing: dan howell/phil lester rating: mature tags: hallucinations, unsettling, psychological horror, imaginary friend, mention of suicidal thoughts in the past word count: 2.2k summary: Dan had an imaginary friend when he was young. It doesn't seem to have gotten the memo that he's grown up. Bingo squares: hallucinations + wingfic + midnight swim + destruction

also, used a dialogue prompt from @throwing-roses-into-the-abyss! i’m sure you would have preferred something fluffier, dear, i’m just getting into the spooky spirit of things.

read on ao3 or here!

"The diamond in your engagement ring is fake."

Dan freezes. After a long beat, his muscles slowly untense, one by one, and he inhales deeply. Maybe if he doesn't look up from his laptop, the voice will go away.

It doesn't. Dan should really know better than that by now.

"You know that, right? It's, like, zircon."

"It's cubic zirconia," Dan says, and then he scowls at himself. He hadn't meant to respond, doesn't want to go down this rabbit hole again. He keeps his eyes trained on the blinking cursor on his screen, even though his fingers have stopped typing.

"Sounds like the same thing to me. Point is, it's not a diamond. Why isn't it a diamond?"

"I didn't want a diamond," says Dan.

"Why not?"

"Because. Most diamond mining is irresponsible, and I don't want a reminder of deforestation and soil erosion on my finger."

"Huh. Can I touch it?"

Dan inhales again, through his nose this time. He could say no. He should say no.

Still, he's spent a good chunk of his time in therapy talking about this, and he knows that it isn't real. It won't actually hurt him. So, reluctantly, Dan holds his left hand out, over the abyss that is the space between his sofa and the end table.

It isn't real, he knows it isn't real, but the shock of cool fingers touching his own makes him shiver anyway.

The logical part of Dan's brain - which is the majority of it, really - always feels so muddled when this happens. It doesn't seem to matter that he's spent years and years working through the trauma that he expects is the cause of this, it still feels so fucking real in the moment. He can feel the cold, gentle weight of fingertips tracing over his ring before they skitter away.

"Feels weird. I like diamonds better."

"It doesn't feel like anything," Dan says flatly. "It's a rock in some metal."

"Such a nice way to talk about a gift, Danny."

"Don't call me that," Dan snaps, and his gaze jerks away from his laptop automatically. He regrets it, wishes he'd held back the instinct.

It - not 'him', never 'him', because it isn't real - stands in Dan's lounge like it belongs there, all long limbs and eerily pale skin. It looks human, or near enough, unless Dan looks closely.

He doesn't want to look closely. He turns back to his screen and stares at the cursor again.

"Dan, then," it says. Its tone is amused, a little condescending. Dan prickles, but he doesn't rise to the bait. After a long, quiet moment where Dan clenches his jaw and does not, in any way, acknowledge its presence, the voice comes again, light and conversational. "And here you said you'd marry me. It's very like you to break a promise, isn't it?"

That's too far. Dan can't hold back his angry, "I was seven, it wouldn't count as a real promise even if you did exist."

It laughs. The hairs on the back of Dan's neck stand up.

"You know that I exist."

"No," Dan says, and he wishes he could sound more certain. The fact is, he struggles with the concept of existence in general, and it becomes somewhat of an existential thing. Does it exist, even though it only exists in Dan's mind? He can't be sure of the answer.

"I suppose you're right," it says thoughtfully, acting like Dan hasn't spoken. "We were way too young to make a promise so big."

"Plus, you're a figment of my diseased imagination," Dan deadpans. His heartrate picks up a bit, the way it always does when he vocalizes this thing. "So I'm guessing the ceremony would be a bit fucking weird, as well."

"Am I?" It sounds delighted. "Wouldn't that be something."

Dan takes another deep breath. It won't get a rise out of him, not this time. It's been an expert at poking and prodding sore spots for far too long.

Maybe if he just keeps working and refuses to talk to it, it'll get bored. It gets bored very easily. Dan brings both his hands back to his laptop keyboard and, as if he's moving through sludge, starts typing again. He's not sure if any of it makes sense, too hyperaware that he isn't alone right now to pay much attention to the words he's typing.

He doesn't hear it move, but he supposes he doesn't have to. The only indication that it isn't standing to his left anymore is the brush of a light, unfortunately familiar weight over his shoulders.

Dan's muscles tense up again. He knows it's leaning over the back of the couch now, looking at his screen, and honestly, that would make him uncomfortable even if it was another human doing it.

"Music, yeah? You always liked music. Glad you're writing about something you like instead of trying to force yourself into what they want."

No matter how old Dan gets, he still can't figure out who 'they' are. It references a 'them' a lot, and Dan used to think it was talking about his parents. Then he thought it was talking about the shitty bullies at school. Now, he has no idea who or what his fucked up subconscious is trying to warn him against.

"What did they want?" Dan asks. He's got no willpower at all, has he.

"Oh, you know," it says, its breath ghosting over the back of Dan's neck. Dan feels goosebumps start to rise over his arms, even under his thick hoodie.

"I don't know," Dan says, irritated. "I've never known."

"Don't you?"

"Am I always this annoying to talk to?" Dan wonders out loud. If this is what a small part of his psyche sounds like, then he feels bad for his friends and fiancé for dealing with him all the time.

It laughs, low and uninhibited. Out of the corner of his eye, Dan sees the shape of something dark stretching out.

He won't look. He doesn't look. Not that it really matters. Dan knows what the shape is, has known it his entire life. The sight of it comforted him, once upon a time.

"No, you're much worse," it jokes, and the shape retracts back. Dan hates that he almost misses the peripheral view, hates that he keeps talking to his own delusion like it's going to do him any fucking good at all.

"If you're just here to be vague and insult me, you can fuck off," says Dan. "Gabe will be over soon, I don't need you hovering when he is."

"Does it matter that I'm here if I'm in your head?" it asks. Something brushes against Dan's upper arm, and Dan flinches. "You're jumpy today, aren't you? It's just me, Dan, jeez."

That's kind of the problem. It doesn't give Dan a chance to say so. "I didn't think you liked it when I said it out loud, but fine. You know what they want, it's what they've always wanted. They want you dead, Danny."

Dan's not sure what he expected, but it wasn't that. He feels cold all through his body very suddenly, a wave of nausea overtaking him.

"What?" he bleats, his vision going a bit blurry and his voice sounding so, so small.

Then, there's a firmer pressure on Dan's shoulders, across his chest. Encircling him. It's giving him an embrace, probably one that's meant to be comforting. Not with its cold, human-ish arms, but with the smooth, soft weight of its wings.

Dan's therapists have blamed his semi-religious upbringing for the wings. They think that he started having delusions of some kind of guardian angel when he was young, and that's why it looks the way it does.

Honestly, Dan doesn't know if that's true or not. Maybe it is. He doesn't remember the first time he saw it, after all, it's just always been there, growing at the same pace as him like another child would.

The hold should be making him panic more, because he's essentially being trapped against the couch by its wings, but Dan actually starts to feel calmer. Maybe that isn't so surprising, really. This used to make him feel so safe when he was a child, curling up with his imaginary friend and feeling its soft wings around him like a weighted blanket.

But then Dan learned that it wasn't real, that it was all in his head, that his family would watch him with wide, uncertain eyes if he kept talking about it, and its embrace stopped being a refuge.

"I won't let them hurt you," it says, with so much sincerity that Dan finds himself believing it despite all logic.

Heat prickles at Dan's eyes, and he leans further back into the couch cushion, its nose brushing his ear and its wings tightening across his chest.

"I know," he whispers, because he does. He does know that.

He remembers the way the freezing cold water had felt against his skin that night, the last time he saw it. The moon had been little more than a sliver of light in the sky, reflecting off the gentle waves around him. He remembers feeling peaceful, for just a moment, before his reality came crashing down around his shoulders again. He remembers wanting to put his head under until everything went away again.

The only thing that had made him leave the water that night had been his imaginary friend, who had stopped showing up as frequently now that Dan was in the midst of a turbulent adolescence, and who had cheerfully waved at him from the shoreline.

So he'd ended up talking instead, about nothing in particular, until dawn started to break over the horizon. It always looked stranger in sunlight, so pale it was practically translucent, but Dan had felt so comforted by its reappearance at that particular time in his life, when it felt like he had nothing and nobody to help with the unending noise in his head.

Dan doesn't know if he would have really done anything, can't be certain, but he has a gut feeling that its presence kept him alive.

He exhales.

"You okay?" it asks, soft.

"Yeah," says Dan. "Yeah, okay. They want me dead and you won't let them."

"That's right." The wings release him, and Dan almost sobs at the loss. He doesn't need to worry, though, because he blinks and it is beside him on the couch now, reaching out with its hands. Dan allows it to take his right hand between both of its own. "I've missed you, Danny."

It isn't real. But when Dan looks up and sees the warmth in its tri-coloured eyes and the smile that seems to have too many teeth to be quite convincingly human, he feels the logical part of his mind go numb again.

"I've missed you too, Phil," Dan whispers, watching its wings twitch happily at the admission. Its smile widens, showing off the sharp edges of its unsettling teeth.

"Stop trying to get rid of me, then," Phil says, teasingly, like it's a joke, but its grip on Dan's hand tightens to the point of pain.

Dan isn't too young to make promises anymore, and his muddled brain doesn't acknowledging the alarm signals that he's sure are going off somewhere in there. He simply nods, feeling a little more dazed the longer he looks at Phil.

It's been around as long as Dan can remember, after all, always appearing when Dan needed comfort or guidance, always keeping him safe, even from himself, always appearing as, more or less, the same age as Dan. Who is he to get rid of it? Nobody has to know if he just keeps his mouth shut this time.

These thoughts don't feel like Dan's own, but his mind is working so, so slow right now. Phil's eyes are the colour of the sea that he'd stood shoulder-deep in all those years ago, and it feels just as much like he's on the precipice of making a dangerous decision as it had then.

"Okay," says Dan. "I'll stop. You can stay."

#phanfic #phanfiction #dnp fic #words words words #bingo

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memorylang · 4 years

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Fathers’ Day, Familiarity and Faith | #38 | June 2020

If my COVID-19 experiences were a Netflix Original Series, I feel someone could title it, "The Groundskeeper."

Synopsis: Returned Peace Corps Volunteer from Mongolia, now back in Nevada, learns a thing or two about hedge trimming and much more about life living.

The inspirational hit series stars award-winning memoirist Daniel Lindbergh Lang, director and editor. “Please support the official release.”

Quirky thoughts keep me sane. More on these later, of course.

The U.S. celebrated Father’s Day 2020 on June 21, so I commemorate it with reflections from being my father’s son.

The adventures follow both my Mothers’ Day reflections (#36) and Easter in America stories (#35). I focus now on continued COVID-19 adventures in yard work, sorting and reminiscing.

Chronologically, we pick up from my stateside Week 11 (May 15-21), when my sisters came home from their unis’ spring semesters. With them as collaborators, I continued sorting our family’s memorabilia. After a few weeks’ interlude 'round Memorial Day, big changes occurred Weeks 14 through 16 (June 5-25) through Fathers’ Day.

I also consider Pentecost and the Spirit. Easter 2020 ended Sunday, May 31, so we’re in a fruitful new time. In fact, I write here results from the smattering of routines I shared before.

Lastly, to clarify, many assume my dad’s Asian. But that’s untrue. He’s Austrian-American. That’s where I get my “Lang” surname. Ethnically, I’m about half Austrian. Culturally, too, Dad’s family influenced me far more than Mom’s when I grew up. My mom was ethnically full Chinese, hence that half.

Now back to Dad!

Father’s Perspective on My Boyhood

During my 2020 time home since Peace Corps’ evacuation, Dad often prods me to take on projects he sees around the yard. So, I do yard work. I don’t like desert heat, so I usually work the daily tasks an hour or two at dawn, sometimes dusk. Picture three months this way.

But Dad would tend to demand a certain perfection on many projects, expecting me out there working when there’s work to do. I’d rather let nature do as it pleases. Peace Corps experiences taught me decorated yards generally feel overrated. When I’m older, I feel I’d much rather have my family frequent parks to get our yard fix. Nonetheless, yard work lets me chat with God, who reminds me empathize.

It is difficult to say, "I serve the Father," if I do not serve my father.

With this in mind, I consider the patient progress of waiting while working often.

Dad grew up in rural America’s Midwest from the mid-20th century. Dad’s parents and community were largely Austrian-American Catholics. Dad’s grandfather immigrated with Dad’s great-grandfather because land in Austria was scarce, late-19th century, yet plentiful in Kansas. My dad grew up on a farm as a third-generation Austrian-American. He funded his higher ed. through U.S. military service and numerous side jobs, including those in teaching and sales.

Through Dad, I’m a fourth-generation Austrian-American—though, only second-generation Chinese-American, through Mom. I wasn’t quite on a farm, having grown up between Midwestern suburbs and an urban West. Still, Dad regularly tasked siblings and I with yard work.

An Energetic Kid, Ages 4-7

Now this gets interesting!

This mid-May 2020, my younger sister and I unearthed Christmas letters our parents (mostly Dad) had written to Dad’s siblings—my uncles and aunts—since before 2000. Turns out, our mom kept hard copies in the bins beside her desk. From these, Sister and I read pretty enjoyable pieces about our child selves.

Here I share Dad’s tales from grade school me in Indiana (used with permission):

2001: "Daniel is 4 years old now and is looking forward to kindergarten. He likes outdoor activities and he is quite strong for his age. He can do a lot of sit ups and push ups already. He likes to walk with [his mom] at the airport, which is nearby."

2002: "Daniel is five years old. He is in kindergarten. He is [...] very competitive. He is in the same school as [his older brother] and is rapidly learning to read now. He is good at math, and he studies very hard."

2003: "Daniel is six years old. He is very competitive and naughty. He always keeps track of the books he reads and comes home to tell us how many books he has finished. His goal is to reach 100 books this year. He is over 90 already. Well, he likes to pester [his brother a lot]. He thinks that is fun. [...]"

2004: "Daniel is seven. He is goal oriented and a 'do'er. He is good at making all kinds of crafts. He is our family's talented teacher. He taught [his younger sister] how to read before she went to kindergarten. He also gives homework assignments to the others, except [his older brother]. He always pesters [his brother] as usual."

God graced me with energy as a kid.

I noticed three themes. For one, I seemed to follow Dad’s lead in filling my time productively. He served in the U.S. Army National Guard and emphasized self-discipline. As a civilian family practitioner, too, he advocated for daily exercises, such as sit-ups, push-ups and walking. I seemed to follow suit.

On the other hand, I was a kiddo with an older brother, and I didn’t mind expending plenty spare energy to bother him. Thankfully I stopped pestering when I grew up with enough self-awareness to know good people don’t intentionally troll. Uni helped.

Curiously, I noticed the letters seemed to note many of my interests resembling Mom’s. Arts, reading and studying seemed more like Mom’s interests than Dad’s, yet I hadn’t realized my similarities to Mom back then. Of course, Dad values education, too.

Studious Beyond Belief, Ages 13-19

As I went through elementary school, Dad’s military service included deployments overseas to Afghanistan (2005) and Iraq (2007). In 2008, our family moved from southern Indiana to North Las Vegas, Nev., where I started middle school. Since my younger sister and I hadn’t found letters from Dad’s years deployed with the others letter, we figured Mom wrote them. By 2009’s end, Dad retired as a lieutenant colonel. But he continued work elsewhere, including in a dozen nations to indigenous peoples of the Americas.

Here were Christmas letters from my adolescence on. Coincidentally, I noticed the first couple we found both came from my last years at respective schools.

2010: “Danny, 13, is finishing at [...] a magnet [middle] school associated with math, science and technology. He [earned last year] a 4.0 [grade-point] average. He received a letter this past week from a magnet high school stating that he was the type of student they were looking for. [I, Dad, think Danny] is also in the National Junior Honor Society [service group]. [...] Danny continues to have to be at the school bus stop at 5:50 in the morning.”

2014: “Danny is the ultimate study robot, with his inhuman ability to study for hours on end in place of sleep, or other usual activities for high schoolers. He attended NV Boys State this past June, and he has risen to the rank of Division News Editor within [Kiwanis] Key Club--a HS service group. Danny and [his younger sister] also attended Key Club activities in CA in Nov. [...] As this is his senior year [...], he should be starting to apply for colleges now, but [...] he has not applied to Yale, which is causing his mother to feel that she is a ‘failure’ if none of her kids get accepted at this prestigious school--it’s used by Chinese mothers as a guilt trip for their kids! [...] He also received an AP with Honors award [from his magnet high school]. He presently is in the ‘top 10’ students in his class ranking. But if he doesn’t get his applications in, then there is always UNLV [Las Vegas]!”

2016: “Daniel is now a sophomore at UNR (Reno) in the Honors Program, and is an honors ambassador. He says he has 1 major in journalism with 3 minors at the present time, and he works at the library when time permits. He also completed an internship in publishing during the summer session, when he stayed in Reno and frugally survived during the summer by ‘couch surfing’ at several different locations. Several of us attended his confirmation at Easter in Reno. He also [...] presented at a few [conferences]. Additionally, he is involved in [the Kiwanis] Circle K service group on campus, as well as the Knights of Columbus, and he sings in the choir at the local Newman Center. Based on his Facebook postings, he seems to be enjoying college immensely. [...]”

I definitely loved service groups—and still do, if Peace Corps counts!

Seeing these letters in 2020, I feel amused how Dad wrote of my later academic interests with distance. Dad’s 2002 line about 5-year-old me, “[Daniel] studies very hard,” escalated exponentially, noticeable by his 2014 line about 17-year-old me, “Danny is the ultimate study robot, with his inhuman ability to study for hours on end in place of sleep.” I figure my peers were similar, though…

I feel amused, too, how Dad included Mom’s wanting me to pursue STEM careers. Chinese often expect this of their kids. In some sense, I’m glad Dad let me escape the Asian tendency and Mom’s ideal to have me pursue a Bachelor of Science. Back then, I contended a bachelor’s from the professional School of Journalism would still make me hireable.

Sure enough, Peace Corps hired!

Besides, I felt vindicated later when I learned my minors in English literature, Chinese studies and communication studies resembled my late mother’s fields of English literature and international relations... She clearly benefited from Liberal Arts. More on these in previous reflections, though. :)

Back From Mongolia

Snap back to March 2020, when I just returned to America after our COVID-19 evacuation from Mongolia.

I was really into “Frozen II,” the cathartic film easing me back into the States. My first week back felt very different from those after. Because “Some Things Never Change,” I discerned to do “The Next Right Thing.” Waking to various “Frozen II” numbers of looping in my brain, days began with such thoughts.

My first days, I often compared experiences to Mom’s when she raised my siblings and me. Despite being at home, I was alone. Dad worked away, plus siblings had school and work. (This preceded American schools canceling or moving online.) So, I felt confused what to do.

I discerned I could tidy the house, serve where others couldn’t. Whether dishes to wash or rooms to clean, I addressed what I saw. I imagined Mom felt this way when my siblings and I attended school and Dad worked.

I also considered my living father matters as much as my late mother. So, honoring Dad honors her, too.

Dad always had yard projects he wanted me doing. I had to weed so much when I first returned.

I felt insights, at least. I considered, weeds are eternal. Weeds will always grow on spiritual life. Weeds attempt to choke our crops’ life. We must uproot our weeds and prune dead areas to fortify new and better parts of being. The physical and spiritual are one. … Yet, weeds still annoy me.

Noticeably, my labors seemed to confuse many in my family. They seemed mostly to recall the 2015 me who’d choose studying over chores any day. But I guess most hadn’t factored I’ve experienced plenty in my years away from home, especially during my months living alone cooking for myself in Mongolia. House tasks are necessary parts of life.

Besides, I’d already been doing these tasks others seemed disinterested in, even back at Christmas 2019, when I sorted Mom’s books, and later during post-evacuation Week 9 (May 1-7), packing up Mom’s desk after three years gathering dust. I felt frustrated others seemed slow to accept I’ve changed since Peace Corps. I pray for grace.

The New Journey

June 6, 2020—just days after Pentecost and coincidentally one month to my 23rd birthday—marked one huge occasion.

Dad remarried!

I felt excited.

I also noticed a curious parallel in threes. For, on my family history adventures, I discovered something about Dad’s parents. In 1987, his mother's spouse passed away; on the third year, she married again, in 1990. 30 years later, my dad’s spouse passed away in 2017; on the third year, he married again, in 2020. Coincidences comfort me at times.

That day, I’d also finished revisions to submit my thesis to a different journal for publication. I’d tried before with one in June 2019 and February 2020, but unfortunately my work hadn’t fit within their scope. Still, the editor believed that I could publish it in the right place!

College Town Return

That Week 14 (June 5-11), Dad also purchased a house in Reno, Nev., where my kind stepmom may move, too. Dad requested aid moving things in Reno. My younger sister and youngest brother both opted out, so I went instead. I prefer Reno’s weather, anyway.

In Reno again, I felt parallels to past years.

Helping my youngest sister and her friend move from a condo and house to the new place, I recalled the many who helped me move between Reno homes during my undergrad. Honestly, I felt weird to think of my dad relocating to Reno, especially since I hadn’t known the area he chose existed during my years studying in town.

Mongolia returned to mind, too, while I lugged belongings in and out of the condo, up and down stairs. Hard to believe that that was three months ago when Peace Corps evacuated us. Exactly three months before, March 9, 2020, was my first Monday in Nevada again.

Writing of Mongolia, I also recalled every bellhop who's hauled my 23 kg (50 lbs.) luggage up stairs in Asia. God bless them.

On the bright side, with helping the sister and friend move, Dad said I got stronger. That felt good. When he asked how many push-ups I could do, I said 50—my new personal record met just days before. When I started working out the month and a half prior, I could only do half that.

Thanks to the lifting and yard work tasking me in Reno, I paused my fitness routines. I realized, I’ve enough strength and endurance for what I’d want to do. So now, having met the goals, I still work out, just less concerned about gains.

Tests of Faith

Back to that ‘groundskeeping.’

With Reno versus Vegas, I prefer hedges to palm trees. Hedges are more fun and less merciless. They leave my body less bloody than palm trees, too. Reno’s weather also keeps cooler.

As you’d expect, yard work leaves plenty time to reflect, chat with God. In earlier days these chats opened with lamentations about the heat and constant tasks. But God graces peace.

Ultimately, Dad’s tasks need someone to do them. He’s busy working full-time out-of-town, and siblings still have activities they must or would rather do. So I volunteer.

On the other side, Dad at times says he’ll compensate me once the bills are paid. There always seem bills to me, though. Since it’s been three months now, I try to think of this like the Kingdom. Whether or not I see rewards, I try to persevere. I must trust the Father to provide in time, no matter the wait. It’s a spiritual exercise.

Pa says he’s glad I’m financially stable, too—My scholarships, grants and work study graduated me debt-free. Those seem good, I guess.

So, spiritually exercising while laboring, I consider parables of workers in the field and masters. Christ spoke of such. Parables about fields and wages seem more nuanced after feeling comparable questions.

I think, too, to re-education labor camps sometimes. During China’s Cultural Revolution, my mom’s parents—both teachers—were sent to those. So, my ‘toiling’ in Dad’s backyards are surely nothing compared to what my grandparents involuntarily endured. I can bear my ‘shackles.’

These bring me to privilege.

At the day’s end, I have places to stay, food to eat and stable internet. Many Americans and people worldwide face greater turmoil than these, perhaps including you, my reader. So, I try acknowledging my ‘hardships’ hardly compare. I try to focus prayers for the needier. Faith helps me through.

On a happy note, I just reached the Diamond League on Duolingo! So, life could definitely be worse...

The Climb

One day during Week 15 (June 12-18), after Dad came home at dusk from work, he asked me to get out the ladder to climb the backyard tree. I thought that was wistful thinking!

Well, I had the time and realized he wanted me to climb after all. The tree had a fallen limb he wanted me to saw off, since I weigh less than him. I insisted I’d only climb with him around.

Well, he came around.

I ascended and sawed four limbs! Before the climb, we thought I only had to address a single one. But as I climbed for it, I found more. Thankfully, these were thin limbs. Dad gave some advice from below, handed me our hand saw then left me while he took care of other tasks around the yard. I climbed higher, wedged my feet in semi-stable positions and got to work.

Atop, the wind blew, so the tree rocked. I clung high in a swaying tree. Good Lord.

But I felt amazed, handling my saw even with my off-hand. I’d cling with one arm and saw with the other. When branches got stuck, I had to grab them, push and jerk them away from other sections to send them down. Dad had me call out, “Timber!” With the final branch out, I let the saw fall.

Success felt like redemption from that random tree I climbed the first culture-shocked day I returned to Vegas from Mongolia. This time I’d such control. My safety depended on it! Plus, I only grazed the back of my hand, as opposed to gashing my palm like the last time I left a tree. Less bleeding is better.

By the end, my arms and legs trembled, not from worry but from muscle fatigue. Still, I felt empowered. Throughout my childhood, I could never climb a tree. Now I passed the physical I hadn’t expected a month and a half prior.

All told, my climb took just half an hour.

Staying the Course

In a week and a half, I turn 23! So I’ll be one (1) 23-year-old, hehe. Look forward to new reflections on how I’ve grown and changed.

As an extension of my paternal family history projects, I started writing memorable quotes from Dad. My siblings and I wound up adapting these and more into our Fathers’ Day 2020 gift! Dad enjoyed our “Book of the Father” we printed.

Meanwhile, America begins to slightly reopen amid COVID-19 conditions, and the post-solstice summer’s begun. So, I encourage us to, whenever possible, still #StayHome more than usual, wear our face masks, maintain physical distance and of course wash our hands. We’ll get through this.

And I hear some are struggling with loneliness, too—If you need someone to talk to, you can always count on me. It’s among the most challenging feelings, given we humans are social beings staying physically apart. Writing, phoning and video calls help me, at least. Feel free to reach out. I keep you and loved ones in my prayers.

Best wishes, and till we chat again.

You can read more from me here at DanielLang.me :)

#Peace Corps #Mongolia #memoir #story #Catholic #God #memoryLang #USA #moving #Las Vegas #Pentecost #faith #Reno #Coronavirus #COVID-19 #hope #summer #StayHome #WithMe #Fathers Day

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going-dead · 5 years

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Ectober day 2: Homecoming

Heyo sorta short but it’s 900 words all written in one day, so not too bad eh? Fun Fact I don’t ship anything in this show, the idea kinda just came to me and stuck. I know they have a ship name but I totally forgot it. Enjoy,

It was homecoming night, the bleachers at Casper High had never been so packed. Looking out into the crowd there was a plethora of painted faces, some bearing the school colors, others to imitate ghosts. The last day of spirit week was to dress as a ghost, and the students went all out. Many were dressed as Phantom or ghosts that had previously attacked or passed through the town, some dressed how they think their ghost would look, and a few others just put a white sheet with two holes cut out over their heads.

Danny, not one to pass up a chance for irony, came as Phantom. At least a crude costume of him, he doubt he could explain why he was glowing or how his voice echoed without alerting his peers to his secret identity. So colored hairspray, contacts, and a black jumpsuit would suffice just fine he figured. Sam and Tucker fell to the floor with laughter when they first saw him. Tucker told him, “You wouldn’t win a look alike contest with that costume, and it’s you.”, Danny had to agree. Wes on the other hand didn’t find it so amusing. His mouth fell open when he first saw Danny and then glared at him for the rest of class.

Suddenly two bodies appeared at his side. “Heya dork.” Sam snorted, “Shouldn’t you be down with the cheerleaders?”

Danny rolled his eyes, he had a feeling he knew where she was going with this. “No Sam, I’m not a cheerleader. I doubt they’d let me through the gates.”

“But that’s where all of the other football teams girlfriends are.” She prodded.

“Good thing I’m not a girlfriend then huh?” He smirked turning to face his two friends. Tucker was dressed in his old Ember wig, while Sam went full goth with a black ballgown and veil and covered herself head to toe in white body paint.

“I don’t know you certainly look it dude.” Tucker poked at the letterman jacket that was currently interrupting his costume’s vibe.

Danny shifted away from Tucker’s probing hands. “I don’t even wear it for games usually and you know it.” That is if he could make it to the game without running into ghostly issues. “But it’s homecoming, I can indulge Dash just this once.”

“We know Danny, we’re just messing with you a bit. Got you the popcorn and pop you wanted.” Sam handed Danny the bag and can. “Did we miss anything?”

Danny shook his head. “Nothing important. The band just finished playing the national anthem.” He looked out onto the field where the football players were lined up, Casper High won the coin toss for the ball. The trio took their seats in the crowded bleachers. It was six minutes into the game when the first points were scored. The bleachers erupted in cheers as Kwan crossed into the end zone with the ball, Danny and Sam were no exception. Tucker on the other hand was, opting to fiddle with his phone, really only going to games to hang out with his friends. It was the fourth quarter and Casper was in the lead by seven points. The whole school was cheering as Dash caught the ball and started running. The cheers soon turned to winces as he was tackled rather roughly. The referees whistle blew as the coach jogged out onto the field to check in on his player. Who currently had yet to get up from his spot on the ground, had yet to even move. The crowd held its breath as the medical team ran onto the field.

Danny moved to get up, but was held back by Sam grabbing his wrist. His head whipped to face her, eyes glowing behind contacts. “Calm down, you can’t go running down there. There’s nothing you can do as Danny or as Phantom. The medics are trained for these things, and there’s nothing to fight.” Sam tried to placate her friend. He looked onto the field to where the boy who tackled Dash was sitting. “And no, you can’t fight a random highschooler just because he and your boyfriend happened to both play an extremely aggressive contact sport.”

Danny looked conflicted but sat back down, pulling Dash’s jacket around him. After a few more antagonizing minutes Dash got up on his knees then to his feet. He had a small limp as he walked to the bench, his arm now splint and in a sling. Danny let out a sigh of relief, it couldn’t be that bad if they are allowing him to stay and sit on the bench.

Once the game was over the score 24-18, the whole student section ran onto the field. Danny ran over to Dash, who was sitting on two of his teammates shoulders. The two spotted Danny rushing over and set Dash down. “Hey what are you two-? DANNY!” Dash limped as quick as he could over to Danny and swept him up in a one armed hug.

“Dash watch your arm you idiot!” Danny laughed. “Speaking of which are you okay? That was a pretty hard hit.”

Dash scoffed, “Bah it was nothing I can’t handle. Just a most likely broken arm.”

“Dash! Why didn’t you go to the hospital?”

“I refused transport. I wanted to see the end of the game. But most of all I wanted to see you.” Dash gave a dorky smile and dipped down to kiss Danny.

When Danny broke the kiss he looked up at Dash a soft smile gracing his face, “That’s so sweet, but you’re still an idiot”

#Danny Phantom #ectober #ectober 2019 #ectober day 2 #fanfiction #My fic #Dash Baxter #danny fenton #sam manson #Tucker Foley

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1989dreamer · 4 years

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In Your Little Werewolf Oven

On AO3

Summary: Danny moves to New York City and ends up opening a bakery called Little Werewolf Oven and most of his clientele ends up being supernatural.

As his reputation grows, Danny finds himself overwhelmed, so he advertises a position and gets not one, but two blasts from the past in the form of Derek Hale and his boyfriend, Stiles Stilinski.

Things work out great for Danny because now, not only does he have more time to do the things he wants, but he also meets his future husband through Derek and Stiles.

Life couldn’t be greater, Danny thinks.

Note: Andrew Erickson would be played by Aldis Hodge if on screen.

Main relationship: Danny/Andrew

Background relationship: Derek/Stiles

~ * ~

Danny makes his break with Beacon Hills when he chooses colleges. He graduates high school a semester early and then heads out.

No one even notices that he’s gone.

Well, no one except cousin Miguel who asks if he feels safe, if he thinks he needs help with the supernatural, and if he wants to keep in touch.

Yes, no, and not really.

Derek Hale is simultaneously the kindest and most fearsome person Danny knows. Mostly because there was a rumor floating around school before he left that Derek had killed both his uncle and a junior at the high school, Vernon Boyd, the third. Well, the uncle was still alive, but Boyd wasn’t, so Danny kindly turns down Derek’s offer of protection and then promptly fucks off to the other side of the country, hoping the distance will be enough.

And it is. For seven years. Long enough to get two bachelor’s in science, physiology and computer science, and to accidentally walk into a cooking class and end up in culinary school just so he can open his own bakery.

He is a bona fide business owner now.

He has no one working for him, so he is only open five hours a day and the rest of his time is spent baking.

It is, in a word, exhausting, but it is his work and it makes him happy.

Business is good for about three months, and then some big name celebrity comes through, orders some of his haupia—which he only made because it was easy and he could set it aside once it was done and not worry about it—and raves about it online.

After that, there is no peace.

Danny can’t get anything done aside from baking and making haupia, and he becomes despondent, trudging from one minute to the next, not even enough time or energy to swipe right on his dating app.

Yes. While Danny was in college, he had also taken time to create a new dating app for LGBTQ+ people. He has gone on a few dates using the app, and the experience is far superior to Grindr or just meeting someone at a bar. But now he doesn’t even have time for that.

He is horny and tired and he really needs help.

Well. Online applications are a thing. So, all he has to do is find three minutes to post something. He finds the time the next morning during breakfast, so he types up a job requirement and application and posts it.

By that afternoon, he has sixty-some applicants.

Okay. So it will take more than three minutes this time.

Great.

~ * ~

Three weeks later, Danny still hasn’t sifted through all the applications. He is desperate, yes, but also too busy. It would be nice if he can just point at someone and assign them to work with him.

He has, however, managed to make an update to his app, and has received favorable feedback. So, while he is still unable to take a moment to breathe, at least he has money to hire someone to go through the applications for the bakery.

It’s a selkie named Ryliegh, visiting her cousin who lives in the apartment across the hall from him, and she is fantastic at everything except baking.

Danny feels a little more at ease with her watching his back. His store, while crowded with humans of every shape, size, and color, is also filled to the brim with supernatural beings who like to take pictures with the bakery’s sign, get something to go, and then hang out on the minimal furniture Danny had grudgingly added a few months back to compete with the Starbucks two blocks away from him.

Why he is a supernatural draw, Danny doesn’t know. Could be the sign.

There are very few things Danny has kept from his life in Beacon Hills, but a stage-whispered conversation between Stiles Stilinski and Scott McCall made the list, and his bakery is named Little Werewolf Oven.

Anyway. Danny views the supernatural as closeted. They don’t want the world to know they exist because the world would respond negatively. Hell, the first week he’d been open, a hunter had stopped by to ask him about the sign, and Danny had pretended to be obsessed with Jacob from Twilight—not that Taylor Lautner isn’t a hotty-mchotty who Danny had actually crushed on for a quick minute.

After the hunter left, it had taken everything in him to 1) not call Derek Hale to come make sure he was okay (not having Derek’s number helped) and 2) to remain open. What if the hunters came into his bakery all the time? They seemed set in their ways, and he knew it wouldn’t just be the supernatural population that was in danger. He himself might be targeted for “being different.”

Anyway. That hunter hasn’t come back nor has he told his friends about Danny, and so the supernatural and LGBTQ+ populations have claimed him.

And then Danny made haupia and never has peace anyway.

~ * ~

Ryleigh corners him a month after he hired her and slaps a stack of papers into his chest.

“What’s this?” he asks, amused if a little sad that they had reverted to this non-technological way of doing things. It’s so much easier to look at his phone than to read physical texts.

“Reviews,” Ryleigh says. “And an application. I suggest you hire him. He’s perfect.”

“Reviews of what?” Danny flips through the stack quickly. Ah, the bakery. It is now officially on some site that directs tourists around. Great. He is going to be swamped.

Then suddenly, in the middle of the stack is a job application, generic, hand-filled. Pretty script. Neat words. Derek Hale.

Danny drops the papers.

“What?” Ryleigh demands. “What’s wrong?”

“I know this guy.” Danny picks up Derek’s resume. On paper, Derek does sound perfect. And he even has work experience in a bakery. Who knew?

“Is he bad?” Ryleigh asks.

“Not exactly,” Danny replies, still studying Derek’s skills. “In fact, why don’t you give him a call, see if he can make it in for a test run soon.”

“Sure thing, boss.” Ryleigh wanders away, phone already on her ear. Danny picks up the rest of the reviews and sticks them in his office for when he, maybe, will have time to read them. Some of them look so sweet.

For now, though, someone’s gotta make more haupia because someone announced, on their social media no less, with about 10,000 followers, that tomorrow is the official day of the week that they will have it.

Well. At least it’s just one day a week. Danny can deal with one day.

~ * ~

Derek Hale returns Ryleigh’s call by the following afternoon, and she patches in Danny so they can talk.

“How soon can you start?” Danny asks, prepared for anything from a week to a month.

“Is tomorrow too soon?” Derek asks instead, and Danny can’t believe his good fortune.

“Sure, yeah,” he says, and then realizes he sounds desperate. Well he is, so fuck it. “Okay, Derek, you’re hired. Just bring in your social security card, driver’s license, and a bank account number with routing information so that I can direct deposit your paycheck.”

“Wonderful,” Derek deadpans. “See you tomorrow.”

Ryleigh gives him a thumbs up before she heads out for her night class. She’s taking computer science because she likes designing mobile games. Danny supports her wholeheartedly except he never downloads her apps. He doesn’t need the distraction. He still doesn’t have any time for dates, much less wasting time on his phone.

Derek will be such a relief. Too bad it isn’t tomorrow yet.

Whatever. Sleeves up. Maybe if he gets done before 9:00 pm, he can treat himself to that new Italian fine dining restaurant that opened around the corner from his apartment building.

~ * ~

Derek is already at the bakery by the time Danny rolls in at 6:00 am. The Italian was delicious last night, and Danny’s in a good mood which only gets better when he starts showing Derek the ropes. Derek is easy to train and easy-going. He has a bit of sharp wit that comes out when he’s not guarding it, and Danny feels honored that he gets to see it.

Derek’s smile is quick and easy. Danny doesn’t ever remember seeing it in Beacon Hills.

“So why’d you leave Beacon Hills?” he asks once he’s made up an employee file for Derek, noting that although it’s good, his license is fake. “And how old are you anyway?”

Derek rolls his shoulders. “Beacon Hills got too small,” he says, tightly. “The Argents no longer have jurisdiction over hunters there, so another hunting regime moved in. And I’m 28.”

“Yeah? Why does your I.D. say you’re thirty then?”

Derek refuses to make eye contact when he says, “Since my birth certificate was destroyed in the fire, Laura added two years to my age so that she could leave me on my own while she worked. I haven’t changed the I.D. yet because I don’t want to lose that part of her.”

“Understood,” Danny says. “Well, do you have a new I.D.? ‘Cause this one’s about to expire.”

Derek smiles, relief evident in his eyes. “Yeah. I’ll get that done in a couple of days when Stiles gets here.”

“Stiles is coming here too?” For some reason, Danny thought that if Derek left Beacon Hills, he’d leave everything behind. To bring Stiles is to bring the essence of Beacon Hills.

“Yeah, well, it’s kind of rude to leave your boyfriend behind.”

“Boyfriend?!” Danny can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of him. Derek glares at him. “Sorry. I just. I didn’t ever think Stilinski would get a boyfriend. Or laid, for that matter.”

“Yeah, well, he’s excellent in bed.” Derek stiffly turns back to the breads, kneading just a little too hard to be human.

“Easy on that,” Danny warns him. “I don’t need to replace these counters.”

“I don’t need you to hassle my boyfriend,” Derek returns, but he does lighten his touch.

“So, Stiles is coming here. Cool. What’s he going to do?”

Derek shrugs. “Beats me. He got his degree in anthropology and zoology. He’s trying to prove that certain supernaturals evolved as a missing link between humans and some older species. It’s really fascinating, but he loves talking about it, so you’ll probably get a rundown on it if you see him.”

“That sounds cool actually,” Danny says. “Now. Have you ever heard of haupia?”

~ * ~

Stiles does indeed arrive within a couple of days and Derek takes an hour to run to the DMV to update his license.

Then, when they get back, Stiles asks Danny if he still needs help.

Danny looks at the sea of people and then back at Derek and Stiles. “Yes,” he says, and Stiles hands him the same documents he’d asked Derek for.

“All right, you’re hired.”

Stiles grins, tying on an apron and jumping on the register. The line moves quickly, and suddenly the bakery is empty, for the first time in what feels like years.

“Cool,” Danny says. And then heads into his office to read the reviews from Ryleigh.

By the time he surfaces, the bakery is closed, Derek and Stiles have cleaned up, and Derek is prepping for tomorrow while Stiles sits on a stool and chats at him.

“Hey, thanks for coming out here,” Danny tells them. “It’s really awesome that you’re here.”

“Yeah, well,” Stiles says, “Beacon Hills kind of imploded on us. Did Derek tell you about the new hunter family that moved in? Right bastards, the lot of them.”

“He’s mad because they saw my eyes and decided that I needed to die.”

“Aren’t you mad about that too?”

Derek shrugs. “Yeah, I mean, that’s where I grew up. But Beacon Hills itself hasn’t been kind to me in a long time. I’ve got friends out here from before I followed my sister back. We’re actually going to meet one of them today.” Derek shares a look with Stiles. “Do you want to come with us?”

“You realize that I’m gay, right?” Danny says. He can’t help giving Derek a knowing look.

Derek snorts. “So is he. Do you want to come with us?”

Danny thinks of his lack of love life and lets it influence his answer. “Yes. I’d like to meet him.”

“Settled then,” Stiles says. “We’re meeting him at that deli on 23rd. His name is Andrew.”

“Are you going to tell me anything else about him?”

“He’s six feet tall, likes to dress well,” Stiles says. “He works as an analyst for a company close by. And he loves your baked goods.”

“So I have already met him?”

“Yeah,” Derek says. “And he thinks you’re cute. He hopes you think he’s cute too.” Then, Derek dusts off his hands, puts away everything, and washes up. “We have about an hour before we’re supposed to meet Andrew.”

“I’ll meet you there,” Danny says, waving them away. They leave, exchanging knowing smirks. Whatever. It’s cool.

It’s a stretch to think he’ll get laid today, but the potential of meeting someone makes Danny a little giddy. He needs a quick shower, a touch up of his cologne, and then maybe he’ll have some time to clean out his inbox.

Oh wow, he has time tonight! Who knew that having employees would make his life so much more manageable.

Anyway. He doesn’t want to be late to meet—or rather, re-meet—Andrew.

~ * ~

Derek and Stiles are standing outside on the sidewalk when Danny comes running up. He’d gotten wrapped up in his emails, unused to having even five minutes to do something like that instead of being too tired to function when he got off work.

“Andrew is already inside,” Derek says, pulling Danny close so he can run a hand over his back, something Danny used to watch him do with his pack before they were forcibly disbanded. Danny shivers under the touch. No lie, if Derek wasn’t with Stiles, Danny would be climbing him like a tree. As it is, he still has to will away a boner.

Derek smiles like he knows what just happened, and Danny shrugs him off.

Then, they walk into the deli. Derek leads the way, heading for a booth tucked near the back, a tall, suited man already sitting there, phone in one hand, the other resting on his head, fingers tangled in his curls. Danny stutters to a stop. He recognizes this man. He was one of the first people to visit the bakery. He’d made some mention of the name, something like, “Reminds of my best friend,” before winking and buying a dozen cookies.

Yeah, he was definitely cute.

“Andrew,” Derek is saying, “this is Danny. Mahealani. I think you’ve met before.”

Andrew looks up, taking in Danny standing there and nods. “Yeah. He’s an awesome baker.”

“And he’s gay,” Stiles remarks, sliding into the booth across from Andrew. Derek waves Danny to the table, and Danny sinks down next to Stiles. Andrew stands up and lets Derek sit so that he’s across from Stiles.

“Danny,” Andrew says, extending a hand, “Andrew Erickson.”

“Pleasure,” Danny says.

“Yes,” Andrew remarks, eyes sparkling. “It is.”

“Shall we order?” Stiles asks. “I’m starving.”

Danny doesn’t know if he’s hungry for food or for affection, but he knows either way, he’ll get what he needs tonight.

~ * ~

The sort of date goes so well that Danny and Andrew walk back to Danny’s apartment together and then spend most of the night talking.

They don’t have sex, but it’s a near thing. Instead, Andrew spends the night on Danny’s couch and they exchange numbers and kisses.

Then, they both drag themselves to their respective jobs the next morning.

Stiles cracks a joke about the walk of shame, and Derek smacks him.

“Go well?” he says, as if he can’t tell. He’s a werewolf. He’d be able to smell if Danny had done anything.

“Yeah, it went really well. I think we could really work out.”

“Good. I’m glad.” Derek hauls Stiles into the kitchen.

Danny is thankful, but Derek and Stiles must have gotten in early because there in nothing for him to do.

Wow. This is going to give him so much time.

“Hey, you realize that you don’t have to do everything, right?” he calls out as he walks into the kitchen. Derek shoots him a blank look accompanied by a thumbs up. “Seriously, you can leave stuff for me to do.”

“Hey, werewolf here,” Stiles says. “He moves at two speeds: fast and faster.”

“Yeah well, you’re making me feel lazy here.”

“When’s the last time you had time to yourself?” Derek asks. When Danny doesn’t answer, Derek points at him. “Exactly.”

Danny looks to Stiles for help, but Stiles just shakes his head.

“Hey, you hired him,” he says. “Which reminds me: do you want me to do anything other than run register?”

Derek shakes his head, so Danny says, “Uh, no? That’s okay, Stiles. You did awesome yesterday. It’s probably going to be that busy again today.”

“That’s good, right?” Stiles asks. “I mean, it means that people like your business.”

“It also means that I can pay you.”

“And go on dates with Andrew,” Derek adds. “By the way, he really enjoyed last night. I think he’s definitely going to ask you out again.”

“Are you going to be okay with me dating your best friend?”

“Yeah. I mean, you and Andrew deserve to be happy. What kind of friend would I be if I got in the way of that? Maybe you’ll break each other’s hearts, but you won’t know unless you follow your path.”

“He’s gotten really Zen lately,” Stiles says. “Sometimes it’s really helpful.”

“Unless your name is Stiles and you don’t like to listen to your boyfriend.”

“I listened, honey. That’s why we’re in New York City.”

“Okay,” Danny interrupts before Derek can respond. “I’m going to go open now. Stiles, you wanna come with?”

“Yeah, sure. See ya, honey-baby-love-of-my-life.” Stiles throws an exaggerated kiss at Derek, who mimes catching it and tucking it into his pocket. It’s cute. Far cuter than Danny would have given either of them credit for seven years ago.

Maybe one day, he and Andrew can be like that.

It’s a goal. But first. Get through today. He needs to do an update for his app, reinforce some firewalls that keep out the bigots. If Derek and Stiles can handle the bakery, then he can get a head start on it. And meet with Ryleigh about financials.

It’s so nice to have employees.

~ * ~

Andrew calls him two days later, on a Sunday, and asks to see him again.

“Been thinking about you a lot.”

“Me too.”

“Can’t wait. Can we meet now?”

“Uh, sure.”

“Cool, let me in.”

“You’re here already?” Danny looks around his apartment, but it’s neat. He’s clean—showered after a run with Derek this afternoon. He even changed the sheets on his bed.

And he remembered to buy condoms when he was at the store earlier.

“Um, sure. Let me just.” Danny throws on a light jacket and jogs down to the street. Andrew grins at him when he pushes the door open for him. They walk back up to Danny’s apartment in silence.

“So, I know this is kind of out of the blue, but do you want to have sex with me?” Danny asks once they’re inside again. Andrew pauses mid-step, shooting a puzzled look at Danny.

“Sex, on the second date?” he asks.

Danny shrugs. “We’re both adults. As long as it’s consensual, why shouldn’t we?”

“Do you think we’re even compatible?” Andrew asks.

“If you’re asking, you’re already thinking about it. Now, I’m vers. How about you?”

“Vers too. I prefer to top with partners on the first time. Is that okay?”

Danny nods. “I was going to play later,” he admits. “So, I’m ready to go. I’ve got lube and condoms in the bedroom. Will you join me?”

Andrew nods, reaching out for Danny’s hand.

He’s reminded sharply of Derek grabbing Stiles’ kiss. “Are we going to be cutesy and couple-y?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” Andrew says. “I mean, some partners like it, some don’t. I know I like pet names, but I’m not much for showing affection in public.”

Danny understands. As a gay black man, it has to be harder for Andrew to show his feelings or who he is without being attacked. “We won’t hold hands in public if it bothers you,” he says, “but I do like to call partners sweetheart and love. But not out in public.”

Danny isn’t under any illusions that Beacon Hills was an anomaly and that homophobia is still the norm in many places. He doesn’t like endangering either his partners or himself unnecessarily.

They sit on the bed, and Andrew studies Danny with kind eyes. “So, we’ll be cutesy and couple-y but only in private. Is it okay to walk with you, to stand near you?”

“To be caught looking at me, you mean?” Andrew nods. “Yeah, as long as it’s okay for me to do the same to you.”

“Definitely. So, this lube?”

Danny laughs, pushing at his chest. “Get undressed and I’ll give you a show.”

It certainly is a show when he gets down to it, and the sex is fun, messy, and only sort of good because they need to learn each other, but he doesn’t hate it, and he actually likes the way Andrew curls around him after they’ve cleaned up, and they sleep.

Danny wakes up in the middle of the night, sees Andrew still in his bed, and smiles before going back to sleep.

~ * ~

Derek obviously smells when their relationship changes, but he doesn’t make a big deal out of it, and he doesn’t let Stiles do it either.

In fact, they go on a lot of double dates, and Stiles tells horror stories of the first time he bottomed for Derek.

“Never again,” Stiles sing-songs. “Derek doesn’t mind, do you, honey-bunches?”

“I mind you discussing our sex life,” Derek retorts, “sugar-sweet-on-top.”

They jibe each other often and throughout the day. The customers love it. They also seem to love it when Andrew manages to come in for lunch and he and Danny usually hide in the office.

The bakery does so well with the extra help that Danny hires an additional four people and extends the hours. He also starts making more traditional Hawaiian goods, which go over just as well as the haupia.

Then, suddenly, he looks up to find that he’s been dating Andrew for a year and he knows that he absolutely wants to marry this man. Andrew has already moved in, and his suits don’t look out of place in Danny’s closet.

Everything fits.

There’s some small fights. And once Andrew spent the night at Stiles and Derek’s apartment while they cooled off and reconciled.

But, still, 365 days. Danny definitely knows he wants to plan a proposal, plan a wedding, and spend the rest of his life with the beautiful creature that sleeps in his bed.

To celebrate their anniversary, Danny enlists Derek and Stiles’ help.

Derek whips up more than baked goods, and Danny is thoroughly impressed by the spread he prepares. Everything is on the table, literally. Way too much food for just two people.

Derek sees him eyeing the table. “You know how you’re thinking about implementing a donation of unused foods to the homeless shelters nearby? Yeah, this is the test run.”

“That’s wonderful,” Danny says. “Thanks, Derek.”

“Hey, I helped,” Stiles says, jabbing himself in the chest. “I made some of the dishes.”

Derek nods. “He did. They’re good too. Traditional Polish dishes, like pierogi, pączki, żurek, and naleśniki.”

“Andrew’s had them before,” Stiles points out. “I’ve never cooked for you, so I don’t know if you like them.”

“I’m sure I will.” Danny gives them both grateful hugs. “Thanks so much for doing this for me.”

“It’s not a problem,” Derek says, grabbing Stiles and tugging him along as he heads for the door. “Let us know how it goes, yeah?”

He nods and then they’re gone.

Danny swallows hard when he’s all alone. He’s suddenly nervous even though he and Andrew have been together for a year now.

An anniversary dinner is nice, but is it what Andrew wants? Should Danny have purchased a ring? Should he be proposing tonight?

Before he can do much more than worry that he’s not doing this correctly, Andrew steps into the room.

He takes in the table and whistles lowly. “They really know how to cook, eh?” he remarks. “They really support us, don’t they?”

“Yeah,” Danny agrees. He hugs Andrew and then pulls out his chair for him. “I haven’t tried Stiles’ cooking, but Derek says it’s good.”

“It is,” Andrew confirms, “although, I can’t pronounce half of what he makes, so he makes fun of me. We can’t all be secret linguistics, like Derek.”

“I’m going to come right out and say this,” Danny says, “I don’t have a ring. I meant to get one, and then I lost track of time.”

“You’ve been really busy,” Andrew agrees. “So I guess it’s a good thing I did get a ring.” He pushes back from the table and drops to his knee, holding a ring box in front of him. “Daniel Mahealani, I love you. I don’t want to spend another day without you, so will you accept this token of my affection and marry me when the time is right?”

Danny slides out of his chair so that he can kneel with Andrew. He picks up the ring and slides it on his finger. “Andrew Erickson, I do accept your ring and give you my promise to marry you when the time is right.”

They stand and sit back at the table.

“Twelve months,” Andrew says. “One whole year. It’s been a great year. And I can’t wait for the rest of the years too.”

“Yeah. That’s.” Danny blows out a breath. “That’s what I want too. I can’t wait for tonight, tomorrow, next week, the rest of our lives.”

“But right now, we have to do something about this spread. Certainly we can’t eat it all.”

“No, the plan apparently was to donate what we don’t eat down at the shelter.”

“Oh,” Andrew says, his smile slow and steady. Danny’s stomach flips a little, anticipating the celebration already even though they have dinner, donating the leftovers, and heading back to the apartment before they can even entertain the notion of sex. “That sounds wonderful.” He studies Danny with a knowing look. “How about we pack something up for later, drop the rest off at the shelter, and head home?”

Danny has to go around the table to kiss him because there’s too much food to lean over the table. But, hey, that’s good. So much food that won’t go to waste.

“I’ll grab some containers. Why don’t you pick out the things you think I should try from Stiles and then we’ll take care of the rest?”

“Divide and conquer,” Andrew says. “That’s why I love you.”

“That and I swallow,” Danny shoots back over his shoulder with a wink.

Andrew lets out a startled laugh. “Just go before you kill me with your quips.”

“I live to please,” Danny returns. “Just you wait.”

It’s hard to wait the two hours it takes to box everything up and deliver it. But somehow, they both survive right until they get into the apartment and the door is locked. Then they crash together, locked at the lips as they put away the food they kept, trying to undress as they move like some awkward, two-bodied creature.

They fall into bed without any injuries, and then proceed to make love at the slowest pace they have ever done so. It’s nice, but Danny is glad that the second round sometime around midnight is faster and more their pace.

Danny falls asleep afterward, sated and beyond happy. He’s got a wedding to plan with his fiancé.

~ * ~

Stiles and Derek get married around Thanksgiving. Danny and Andrew both attend as best men.

It’s the first time in eight years that Danny has seen anyone from back in Beacon Hills, and he is surprised that it isn’t as awkward as he’d thought it would be. For one, Scott doesn’t come. Stiles makes some bullshit excuse, but Danny can see how hurt he is. And another thing, everyone has grown up and matured. Sure they all have a few more scars than he remembers, but for the most part they seem happy.

After, once the vows are exchanged, the grooms kiss, the toasts are done, the food is eaten, the bouquet lovingly handed to Danny by Derek, and the guests gone with the couple departed to their honeymoon, Danny sits with Andrew on their balcony, watching the moon rise over the rooftops.

“That was a beautiful ceremony,” he says. Andrew nods in agreement. “If you don’t mind, none of those people aside from Derek and Stiles will be at our wedding.”

“Obviously,” Andrew says. “Do you want something similar?”

“Small, intimate?” Andrew nods. “Yeah. That sounds perfect.”

“How about New Year’s? All we need are a few suits, witnesses, rings, and some of your haupia.”

Danny laughs. “I knew you were only marrying me for my prowess in cooking Hawaiian desserts.”

“Oh sure, yeah, that’s what attracted me to you in the first place.”

“Yeah? And what attracts you now?”

“Hmm,” Andrew pretends to think about the question, before sobering quickly. “Everything,” he answers honestly. “I love everything about you. I love the way you are so smart, the way you cook, I love how you treat your friends, and how you’re not afraid to let someone know when they’ve hurt you. I love the way your face lights up when you laugh, and most of all, I love the fact that you’ve let me share your life with you.”

“Aw, babe, you’re going to make me cry.” Danny rests his head on Andrew’s shoulder. “I love you too. I love the way you always know what to say in any situation and how you know to give me space when I’m mad. I love the way you always hang up your clothes. I love the way you hog the covers at night. But most of all, I love that I get to share your life with you.”

They share a few sweet kisses.

“Shit, we should have recorded those,” Andrew says suddenly. “They would have made the perfect vows.”

Danny laughs again, sure his face is a bright beacon in the cold November air. “Yeah. We should have. How about we go write them down instead?”

“That works too.” Andrew stands up, offers a hand to pull Danny up. “God, I love you.”

“I love you too. Now move, I’m freezing.”

~ * ~

New Year’s day dawns bright and cold. The perfect day for a quick wedding.

Danny stands in front of the courthouse, Stiles to his right, fluttering about like a nervous moth. Ryleigh would have been here too, but she’s off visiting some of her others cousins, back in Ireland. She sent her love and congratulations in a confetti- and glitter-filled envelope that Danny had the foresight to open in his kitchen on the linoleum instead of his fully-carpeted living room. He’s still finding bits of glitter even after a deep clean.

“Why are you nervous?” Danny asks. “You weren’t this nervous when you and Derek got married.”

Stiles shrugs. “You realize this is the longest I’ve been apart from my husband since we first got together, minus the time he flew out here to get the job at your bakery. I’m just.” Stiles sighs. “Sometimes I think I’m going to turn around and he’ll be gone. Do you ever feel that way about Andrew?”

“No,” Danny shakes his head, “never. I trust him to come back to me, even when he leaves mad. Do you not trust Derek the same way?”

Stiles nods, but it’s clear he doesn’t.

“Why don’t you talk to your husband about it? I’m sure he’ll explain things better than I can.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Thanks, Danny. You’re a great friend. Andrew is so lucky to be marrying you.”

“And I’m lucky to be marrying him,” Danny says. “Thanks to you and Derek for introducing us.”

“Oh hey, I think I see them.”

Indeed, it is Derek and his fiancé walking toward them. Andrew has the bouquet from Stiles and Derek’s wedding.

“Something old,” he murmurs as he comes astride of Danny.

Danny pokes his tie. “Something blue.”

“All right,” Stiles directs, “let’s get you inside and married before I lose any more feeling in my toes.”

Derek holds the door for them, and Danny swears he hears him hum “The Wedding March” under his breath.

Well, he and Andrew did pick out a playlist for the reception at the bakery after this, and they’ll dance to their song then, but it is nice to have some form of acknowledgment for what this day is.

Well, that is aside from the fact that this building is only open for the purpose of filing marriage certificates today and only for about two hours.

Six other couples have already been here. And now it’s Danny and Andrew’s turn.

“Got the rings?” he asks Stiles as they line up before the justice. Stiles nods, tossing one to Derek while Derek hands Stiles a folded piece of paper.

And then it’s off to the races. Vows exchanged, rings exchanged, kiss exchanged, paper signed, objections null and void, and it’s over.

Danny stands on the steps again, Andrew next to him, matching rings on matching fingers.

Derek and Stiles wave streamers of crepe paper in both his and Andrew’s favorite colors, clapping, and in the case of Stiles, whistling loudly.

As Danny surveys the mostly empty sidewalk in front of him, standing next to the love of his life, two good friends sharing this moment with them, he thinks life can’t get any better than this.

~ The End ~

#Teen Wolf Fanfiction #Danny Mahealani #OMC #OFC #Derek Hale #Stiles Stilinski #My Story/My Writing #Danny-centric

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svubloods · 5 years

Text

Imagine being the Youngest Reagan: Just the Seven of Us

(A/N: Something different but fun. Just cute really. I hope you enjoy!)

Imagine being the Youngest Reagan: Just the Seven of Us

Staten Island, New York City, New York 1996

Joseph Reagan observed his parents sceptically, to the point he could feel his right eyebrow quirked up in suspicion as he watched them from his position in the backseat. They were certainly acting normally, he thought, as the continued to speak casually to Jamie, your brother, about his high school electives. Everything seemed normal but something was off and Joe knew it. He didn't understand where they were going, why they were being so secretive about it and why they had organised it like this so that they were only ones clued in. Joe’s younger siblings sixteen-year-old Jamie and eight year old Y/N clearly wasn't as curious as he was but maybe that was because as they both still lived at home and going on trips with them on the weekend weren't an unusual occurrence for them unlike Joe, who was now living on the Columbia Campus in the city after starting his freshman year there a few months ago. What was even weirder was that his older sister Erin, a Junior at Columbia, and older brother Danny, a rookie cop, were instructed to meet them at whoever they heading, no excuses. Which meant that unlike him who had decided to catch the train to Staten Island to his parents from the city a day early and stay the night before, they knew where they were all heading.

Though he was naturally curious, he trusted his parents and didn't dwell on it. So he pulled away from his intrigued thoughts and his view of the blurring Staten Island streets through the window to look at his little sister. Who was sandwiched comfortably between him and Jamie in the middle seat at the back seat of the car? He watched amused as she read the book tightly clutched in her small hands intently, her face slightly screwed up in concentration. It was a face that he knew all too well, his Mother and older sister Erin made similar faces when concentrating as well.

He was glad she was enjoying the book. His mom had been telling him that ever since moved out and gave her the book; ’The Ultimate Kid’s Guide to All Things Science’ that she hadn’t put it down. And today was no exception, the book enough to entertain her during the seemingly long trip. Though didn’t need his mom to tell him that she had been enjoying it, she told him every Sunday when he took the train back up for Sunday Lunch back at his parents. He was happy that she was liking it so much, especially as the whole reason he gave it to her was so that on the day he left, she would be too distracted to get too upset. Despite the age difference, Joe shared a very special bond with his baby sister. Unlike Jamie who thought he was too cool and Erin and Danny who were too much older, he loved spending time and talking to her. In fact, he missed hearing about her second grade, well now third-grade escapades. It was either his little sister was a great storyteller or that the lives of eight and seven years olds were vastly more interesting than his own.

Joe leaned into her side gently and bowed his head to whisper to her so that only she could hear.

“Whatcha reading?” He whispered, glancing at the page she was reading.

“How to make a volcano out of paper-mâché!” You whispered excitedly, looking at him with a large grin, “And before it said that inside volcanos there is lava and it's really hot!”

“Lava?” He asked, encouragingly, chuckling to himself as you flipped the page back and pointed at it dramatically.

“Molten rock!” You stated, confidently.

“Woah,” He played along happily, “So you’re enjoying the book then?”

“It’s the best present ever,” You exclaimed, though you were still whispering to each other, “Thank you, Joey,”

“But you still miss me right?” He teased.

You nodded with a playful pout just empathise how much you still missed him and he put his arm around you and gave you a squeeze.

“You’re squishing me!” You squealed, your face pressed up against his torso so it was muffled.  “It’s because I love you so much,” He jokingly singsonged, keeping you pressed into his side as he rocked you from side to side, the best he could from your strapped down position in the car.

“What’s going on back there?” Your Dad’s voice asked with teasing sternest from the driver’s seat, you both glanced forward to see his fascinated eyes fixated on the both of you in the rearview mirror. “Just the usual,” The nineteen-year-old quipped, acting in a way to arouse fake suspicion and to entertain you, “Lava, college, our plans for world domination,”

“Is that right?” Your Dad entertained, looking at his eight year old daughter directly, “What will the great Y/N/N dominate first?”

You paused for a second your face contorting in concentration once again before responding.

“Manhattan,” You declared.

“You might want to ask Grandpa first,” He chuckled.

“Why do I need to ask Grandpa?” You whined, looking at him confused in the rearview mirror.

“Well, he’s the Police Commissioner remember? And that means it’s his job to make sure police officers like me and Danny do their job and protect people. Which includes stopping takeovers from tyrannical eight-year-olds,” He explained, purposely.

“What are you going to do if Grandpa says no, Y/N?” Jamie asked, his conversation over now, and his full attention refocused onto your interaction.

“Ask Grandma, she always says yes!” You revealed, “Especially when I make my eyes big like this,”

You widened your eyes with your fingers and pouted playfully which much to your confusion made everyone else in the car laugh.

“Can I know where we are going now?” Joseph asked your parents when the laughter died down.

“Patience, young Joseph,” Your Mother teased, whipping round to smirk at him, “All will be revealed,”

“You and your dramatics Mother,” Joe quipped, rolling his eyes at his mother and her antics, but he couldn't help the laugh that spilt over despite his best attempts to control himself.

“You hear that Frank?” She giggled, grabbing hold of his arm as he drove, “He’s serious, he called me mother,”

“Should we tell him?” Your Dad entertained, his eyes on the road ahead.

“Yes you should,” He interrupted, “Danny and Erin already know, so it’s only fair that I know too,”

“Well, that’s because there is too many of you to fit in the car,” Your Mom shrugged.

“I don’t know where we are going either,”Fifteen-year-old Jamie added, making sure he was apart of the conversation as well.

“Why can’t I know what I’m giving up my Saturday for?” Joe countered.

“Because you should be happily willing to spend your Saturday with us regardless of the exact details,” Your Mom refuted, “And anyway let’s be honest Joey, you didn't have any plans anyway,”

Jamie snorted.

“Hey,” Joe protested, “I had plans,”

“With Tia?” Jamie joked, rolling out her name as Joe’s cheeks went red.

“Shut up!”

“Whose Tia?” Your mom asked, perking up and suddenly eager, “Don’t tell me I have to start helping to plan another son’s wedding,”

“Mom,” Joe groaned in embarrassment, sinking in his seat slightly.

“That will teach you to try and ruin the surprise,” She laughed, “Now Jamie, how was football practice yesterday?”

It wasn’t long after that, that you arrived at your destination. You pilled out the car and marvelled in wonder at was before you as your brothers quickly followed you. Your parents with smiles on their faces grabbed all your things.

“Coney Island?” Joe questioned in disbelief, “You made me travel from Manhattan to Staten Island only to take me to Brooklyn?”

“We didn't make you come a day early,” Your Dad reminded.

“But you understand that this could have been so much easier, right? If you had told me where we were going for this family Day out!” He protested, helplessly.

“But think of all the fun you had on the journey up with us,” Your mom comforted, side hugging Joe tightly which he quickly returned.

“Now, we have to wait for your brother and sister to get here,” Your Dad announced.

“Babe, give Danny a call to see how long they’ll be,” Your Mother suggested, her and Joe circling the car towards your Dad while you and Jamie stood looking hopefully at the entrance, “He said that Erin was coming with him,”

“JJ is that a rollercoaster? You squealed as the distinctive whoosh of it breezed past you.

“Probably,” He nodded, before crouching down beside you, “But I have a feeling you might be too small to go on,”

“Noooo, why can’t I be taller!” You huffed, slamming your small foot adorned with a thin white sandal on the concrete.

“Maybe next year you'll grow,” He shrugged, nervously, suddenly regretting answering your question without backup, rookie mistake.

“But I want to go on now!” You insisted, “Maybe I’ll grow before we get there, lets go and see!”

“Well, how about we do something else together, instead? Because that’s not going to happen” He offered, hopefully.

“Like what?” You demanded, narrowing your little eyes at him and frowning.

“I’ll buy you a hotdog,” He smiled.

“You don't have any money,” You sighed, disappointed.

“Okay, I’ll get Dad to buy us both hotdogs,” He clarified.

“I want two,” You babbled, “I didn't have breakfast, so I'm really hungry,”

“Why not?”

“I wanted to save space for my milkshake,” You answered before grinning and adding, “Daddy said I could have one if I’m good,”

“How did you know you could get a milkshake?” He questioned.

“Because,” You began dramatically, “Mommy told me where we were going yesterday, she said we were going to the beach and they had milkshakes there. And I love milkshakes!”

“Why didn't you say anything?”

“Because if I had told you then it wouldn't be a secret and it was a secret,” You reiterated.

He was about to say something else only to be interrupted by the arrival of your older siblings, twenty-three-year-old Danny and twenty-one-year-old Erin.

“All right, we’re here and now tell us why,” Danny announced after he and Erin greeted your parents and the rest of you.

“Now that everyone is here,” Your Mother beamed, “I’ll explain. Your Father and I thought it would be fun to get all of us together for a proper family day, just the seven of us, because it’s very rare we all get together just us and because this might be our last chance as just seven ever before my baby boy get married next weekend,”

Your Mother finished her explanation by engulfing Danny into her embrace and squeezing his cheeks.

“Ma,” He cried, but he did little to remove himself from her grasp, “So that’s why I couldn't bring Linda, huh?”

“We wanted to celebrate it being just the seven us of us,” Your Dad added, going over and clapping Danny on the back, “Before you start your new family,”

“Well not any time too soon, hopefully,” He cringed, not enjoying both of his parent's undivided attention even if it was only for a few moments.

“A new family?” You whispered to yourself.

“Shh,” Jamie sounded, putting his finger to his lips as your parents continued to speak.

You were too consumed with your own confused thoughts to focus on what everyone was saying. All you could remember was looking up at everyone, everyone was smiling and laughing and your frowning at them all but they didn’t seem to notice.

“So we have dinner reservations at a restaurant for Seven, so if we end up splitting up that’s where we will meet,” Your Mom continued to explain, “But since this is a family day I hope we all be sticking together all day and yes I’m looking at you boys,”

Jamie and Danny protested the statement, your Dad and Joe just laughed.

“Oh,” You Mother cried, before pulling all five of you into a bear hug, you only reached her hips so once again your face was squished, “I can’t believe I get to believe I get to spend all day with all five o my babies,”

“Mom, don’t cry,” Erin said above you.

“I might not survive the day if you keep crushing my windpipe,” Danny spluttered.

She quickly released everyone before commenting playfully, “Sorry, for loving you all so much,”

“Come on let’s get going,” Your Dad instructed and with that, you made your way.

From there the seven you made your way around Coney Island. Constantly stopping and starting again, as everything seemed to grab the interest of at least one of you. None of you had realised how much you all had to catch up on with each other, everyone had something going on in their lives that they hadn't mentioned yet or fully explained. Your mother adored having all of you together and the fact that all of you were so close despite the large age differences. It was something she always worried about and the fact that sometimes he felt like she was always being pulled in five different directions which meant at least one of you was always left out. It was much easier when you were all together. Everyone was talking and enjoying themselves, happy. Just by simply being together.

Everyone except for you of course. You couldn't enjoy yourself as much as everyone else. Being the youngest meant that you couldn't participate in the rides that Joe and Jamie wanted to go on or a lot of the activities your Mom and Erin went off to do. So for a good proportion of the day you were on the sidelines with whoever was designated to take care of you. Not that you minded at that point, you were too upset but no one seemed to notice and it would fluctuate when you were distracted. Everyone was too distracted with enjoying themselves to notice that you weren't always. A lot of time to save time someone carried you round so that you wouldn't get too tired too quickly.

“What do you think, rockstar?” Your Mom asked bending slightly to meet you, as you stomped out of the dressing room of a kids clothing store that you, your mom and older sister Erin.

You frowned at the new denim dress that Erin had selected for you, which to you looked exactly like on you already had. You also shook your head to wobble the big red bow that Erin had put in your hair because she said it would match the new red shoes that your mom had selected.

“Well, that isn't a promising look,” She chuckled, grabbing your face in her hands and pulling it closer to hers, “What’s up?”

“I don’t like it!” You insisted.

“But you look so cute in it, well cuter than usual,” Your Mom winked at you with a reassuring grin, “What do you think Erin?”

“Y/N, you look adorable,” She complimented, playing with your mass of curly hair before straightening your bow.

“But I don’t want to be adorable,” You sighed.

“Then what do you want to be?” Your Mom questioned.

“A big girl,” You smiled, “So I can go on the rollercoasters,”

You Mom just chuckled while Erin who was at least a foot taller than your mom at that age knelt down beside you.

“You look like a big girl in that outfit,” she said.

“You’re just saying that because you picked it,” You frowned, narrowing your eyes at her suspiciously.

“No, I mean it,” She promised, “Look we’re matching,”

She gestured to the white and navy striped dress she was wearing and the shirt she had picked for you to wear under your new denim dress. Also white and navy.

“We are,” You beamed, your eyes lighting up before frowning again, “But you don’t like it when Mom tries to dress us the same,”

“I’ll make an exception for today,” She sighed.

“Really?”

“Only today because you look so amazing,” She teased, poking your ribs playfully and sticking your tongue at you.

“Is the lady satisfied?” Your Mom teased, shooting Erin a sneaky wink.

“Indeed,” You played along before you all left the store to meet the boys who were all waiting outside for you to finish.

“Can we go to the rides now?” Jamie asked as soon as you returned to the group.

Your Mom and Dad shared a look before looking down at you, knowing that you were too young to go on anything in that area. They seemed to interact telepathically, coming up with a plan without saying a word to each.

“All right boys, let’s go,” Your Mom responded as Jamie and Joe ran ahead.

“I’ll go too,” Erin added, walking alongside your mom.

Which left you, your Dad and Danny at the storefront. You looked up expectantly at your Dad, purposely ignoring your older brother.

“Hey kiddo, how about we try out some carnival games?” Danny asked.

“No,” You stated, ducking behind your Dad’s legs.

“No?” He repeated, taken aback.

You nodded before grabbing hold of your Dad tightly, his hands flying down to steady you.

“Oh okay,” He nodded.

“Why don’t you go catch up with everyone Danny,” Your Dad suggested pointedly leaving it as just the two of you.

He gathered you up in his arms and held you tightly against him.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to the Carnival?” He asked, studying your young face.

“Let’s go,”

Fifteen minutes you were happily throwing beanbags and even though you weren't making any progress on the towers of steel cups, you were having fun. And your Dad seemed to be having fun just the two of you as well. He eventually stepped in and helped you win a prize, a toy money that was almost as big as you were.

“A monkey for my little monkey,” He grinned handing you the prize almost causing you to topple over.

“You hold it,” You squealed, shoving it back into his arms as he laughed at you.

He put the monkey over one shoulder and grabbed your hand as you continued your way through the carnival.

You babbled happily to him as you went and even though he engaged with you, usually as happy, he watched you with a curious eye. Not forgetting your interaction with your older brother as well as your mood throughout the day. You were in the middle of telling him the story of your day at school the day before when he bumped into a cop that he knew. Your Father soon became distracted by the conversation enough that you eased your hand out of his. You knew that your Dad loved to talk to other cops and that it might take a while. You looked around for something to do but trying to make sure that you stayed close. You knew better than to wander off. You looked around suspiciously about to give up before you heard some frustrated sighs from a booth beside you.

Curious as ever, you wandered over to see what was making the boy so upset. He was tall and skinny boy, only a couple of years older than you with really blonde hair and bright eyes. You watched for a few minutes as he kept failing to aim the water gun correctly, so he kept on missing his target. He huffed in defeat, turned around and noticed you.

“Oh,” He said in surprise, “Are you waiting to play?”

“No,” You answered much to his confusion, “I was watching you,”

“I’m not very good at this game so it probably wasn't very interesting,” He blushed, shoving his hands in his pocket awkwardly in embarrassment.

“If you want I can show you how to do it,” You offered, brightly, “This is my favourite game,”

“Okay,” He nodded, sceptically, stepping out the way for you.

“You have to do it like this,” You instructed, repeating how Danny had once taught you when playing with water guns in the backyard.

You raised the water gun up with two hands, and aimed it in the right position, keeping your eye on the target before pressing the lever and hitting the bullseye exactly. You kept your hand steady until the tank filled up and the bell rang, indicating that you won a surprise. Once it did and you were handed your prize, a keychain this time, you turned back to look at the boy.

He had been watching you with his mouth open.

“Here you go,” You insisted, giving him the keychain.

“But it’s yours,” He said.

“And I’m giving it to you,” You smiled, “Do you think you can do it yourself now,”

He nodded, “You’re really good at it,”

“My brother Danny showed me how to do it,” You informed brightly before frowning again.

“What’s wrong?” The boy asked.

“My brother is leaving!” You cried.

“Why?”

“He’s getting a new family,” You said, sadly.

“That’s too bad. You’re like the coolest sister ever,” He comforted.

“Really?”

“Yeah, none of my older sisters know how to shoot a water gun,” He sighed, “They just talk about girly things like clothes and boys,”

“Boys are gross,” You shuddered.

“Hey,” He protested, offended.

“Not you,” You corrected, “You’re my friend,”

“I am?” He grinned.

“Yeah,” You nodded. “I’m Dominick, but everyone calls me Sonny,”

“Like sunshine?” You giggled.

“Yeah,” He shrugged, bashfully.

“I’m Y/N,” You breathed, reaching to shake his hand, “Nice to meet you,”

You shook each other's hands vigour-sly before bursting into giggles. You continued to chat about the game as Sonny had another go himself. But you were soon interrupted by your Dad calling for you.

“I have to go now,”

“Bye,” He waved.

You waved back before running back over to your hug who bent down to greet you with a hug.

“Where did you run off to?” He inquired, bopping you on the nose.

“Over there playing a game with my friend,” You pointed, giggling as he shook you around playfully.

“You just make friends everywhere don’t you?” He chuckled as he clasped your hand and you continued to walk up the pier.

“That’s because it's easy,”

“Not for everyone,” He informed before you stopped and sat on a bench that looked out over the seafront, “Do you want to know a secret, Y/N?”

You nodded, turning to look up at your Dad.

“Your Mom and I sat on this very bench on our first date,”

“Really, it’s that old?” You asked.

“Must be,” He laughed, “I took your mother here for our very first date and after we spent all afternoon playing carnival games we came and sat here for hours,”

“And you didn't get bored?”

“I could never be bored when I’m with your mother,”

“Do you get bored of me?” You inquired, curiously.

“No, of course not. I could never get bored of you,” He promised, pulling you into his side, “You’re my baby girl,”

“Is Danny bored of us?” You continued, widening your eyes up at him.

“Why are you asking that?” You Dad returned, clearly concerned.

“Because he’s leaving and starting a new family,” You began to sob, your eyes filling with tears.

“Hey,” Your Dad comforted, wiping away the tears that spilt down your face, “Danny isn't leaving the family. He’s always going to be your brother and apart of this family, all of us will always be.”

“Then why did Mom say, it was last time?” You demanded.

“Because when Danny gets married next weekend, they’ll be eight of us,” He clarified.

“Eight?”

“Well won’t Linda will be one of us?”

“She is?” You exclaimed.

“She’s going to be a Reagan, just like you and just like me,” He reassured.

“I love Linda,” You grinned before lowering your voice, “Sometimes more than Danny,”

“I know you do,” He smiled, hugging you tightly before pulling you away at arm's length, “Now should we go find Danny so you can say sorry for being mean to him,”

You nodded reluctantly before your Dad carried you to the other end of the pier where everyone else was. As you approached, you saw Danny standing with your Mom as your other brothers and Erin rode a ride that was going faster than you had ever seen before. As soon as you were in reach, you made your Dad put you down and you ran up to Danny, slamming into his side with so much momentum that you almost knocked him over before you hugged him.

“What the…Y/N?” He said jumping in surprise before steadying himself.

“Hi,”

“Oh, are we speaking now?” He probed, looking down at you, “You’ve been frowning at me all day,”

“Because I thought you were leaving me” You pouted, “But I know you aren't so we’re friends again,”

“What if I don’t want to be friends with you?” He countered.

You felt your face crumble as you gazed up at him.

“All right, all right, we’re friends,” He insisted quickly, finally hugging you back, “Just never look that upset again, promise?”

“Promise,” You nodded before whispering, “Hey Danny?”

“What’s up kiddo?”

“I’m really happy that Linda is going to be a Reagan,”

“Me too,” He smiled, poking at your dimples as you smiled back at him.

For the rest of evening, you stuck by Danny’s side, sitting by him at dinner and letting him carry you on the beach when all seven of you took a final stroll on the beach before leaving. You don't remember saying goodbye to Danny, Erin or Joe. The next thing you remember is waking up in the car, it was dark outside and Jamie was asleep beside you while your Dad snored quietly in the passenger seat. Your Mom who was driving and had noticed you stirring.

“Did your Dad’s snoring wake you?” She whispered to you.

You shook your head stifling a giggle as your mom motioned for you to be quiet.

“Where are we going?” You asked.

“We’re heading home now,” She informed, “Did you have fun today?”

You nodded eagerly at her, “It was the best day ever,”

“I’m glad you had fun,”

“Did you Mommy?” You inquired.

“It was best the day ever,” You smiled, repeating your sentiment.

“What was your favourite part?” You questioned, intrigued as much as you could be in your tried state.

“Spending time for you, of course,” She insisted before adding, “And going back to the pier with your Dad,”

“Because that’s where you had your first date!” You reasoned.

“How do you know that?”

“It’s a secret,” You breathed, putting a finger to your lips.

“Uh huh,” She nodded sceptically, “Or your Dad is a blabbermouth,”

277 notes · View notes

archadianskies · 5 years

Text

a second chance is another way to remember

@dbhrarepairs Thursday Day 4: Red String of Fate + Secret; Modern AU Josh/Simon

There was a boy who lived at the end of their street and his name was Josh. For as long as Simon can remember, Josh had been a part of his life. They even had a secret password for the treehouse in their backyard (it was Jericho). There was Danny, and Danny’s best friend and sometimes Josh’s friend North, and they called themselves the Jericho Four and spent their childhood playing games or eating snacks or exploring or reading books by torchlight under a blanket.

Well, the reading books thing was just between him and Josh. The Sawyers’ had an amazing library because Josh’s mom was a professor at Detroit University and always believed knowledge to be the most powerful weapon. She always gave her son new books, and in turn her son would eagerly share them with Simon. They’d lose hours and hours devouring each new book she gifted them, and eventually they’d fall asleep with the torch still in Simon’s hand and the open book still in Josh’s.

If Simon could choose to travel back in time to any era, any monumental turning point in human history, he’d still choose his childhood, he’d still choose Joshua Sawyers.

Life has a funny way of moving at breakneck speed and crawling at a snail’s pace too. Simon and Daniel moved away, and the Jericho Four was no more. They went to school, they went to college, they went to university. Somewhere between all that, their parents disowned them when word around town spread that Simon Lambert kissed a boy. It had been a shameful secret but Daniel stood up for his brother, and for himself too because love wasn’t ever shameful and should never be a secret and he’s gay too so fuck you both they’ll make it on their own. So they did and it’s been just Simon and Danny for seven years now. They move back to Detroit and they work themselves to the bone to survive and they do, they manage it somehow because there’s no other option. There’s no time for love, nothing beyond fleeting glances and harmless crushes and if he’s honest with himself, Simon still thinks of Joshua Sawyers and wonders how handsome he must be now.

Danny’s taking night classes for a short course, and when Simon finishes his Wednesday shift at the cafe he brings coffee and leftover pastries. There’s a handy shortcut that cuts through one of the buildings, a beautiful old construction of brick and climbing ivy. Simon ducks inside and finds himself pausing when he glimpses one of the lecturers working diligently on something. He’s tall and handsome, a pair of thick black rimmed glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose. His dark skin is washed with a cooler hue from the bright study lamp on his desk, and he absently rubs his shaved head in thought. Smiling to himself, Simon discreetly tucks the little image into his folder of harmless little crushes, and hurries on to find his brother.

He hates the closing shift but that’s just how it is sometimes. At least his bag is full of pastries and muffins they can freeze and divvy up for the next couple of days. Simon cuts through the university grounds just as one song finishes playing on his phone, and right before the next song starts he hears it- yelling. Hitting the pause button, he yanks the earphones out and stands still. There it is again, the sound of laughing and yelling and a bottle breaking. And then a cry for help. Simon breaks into a run, belatedly thinking it’s Danny that’s better in a fight, not him, but a cry for help is a cry for help. He finds himself in a tiny laneway behind one of the lecture halls, and there’s broken glass and a crumpled form on the ground, and five drunk students.

“Hey!” Simon turns the torch on his phone and shines it right at them. “Hey this is campus police!”

“Oh fuck!” There’s a chorus of colourful curses before they disperse in a mad scramble, and then Simon’s rushing to the fallen figure.

“Oh my god, are you ok? Oh shit-” Simon gently eases the person to sit up and he realises it’s the very handsome lecturer he saw the other week. “Come on, I don’t live too far from here. I’ll patch you up. Can you walk?”

They groan but manage to nod their head slightly. Simon gathers up the man’s belongings, wincing when he finds the glasses had been crushed underfoot. He shoulders him and the short journey home feels thrice as long. Guiding him to sit on the edge of the bathtub, Simon rummages through the bathroom cabinet for supplies. Placing two aspirin in his hand, he fetches a glass of water for him before starting to tend to his wounds, luckily finding nothing more than bruising and grazes.

“Thank you.” The man slurs, wincing as he touches his split lip. “If you hadn’t been there, I-”

“It’s ok. I’m just glad you’re alright.” Simon gently wipes the blood from his chin before dabbing at the graze on his brow. “Nothing’s broken and there’s no cuts or anything. You’ll have some nasty bruises though.”

“I have a lecture at ten tomorrow morning, that’ll be interesting.” He mutters, then heaves a tired sigh. “My car’s back at the university.”

“Stay the night.” Simon blurts. “It’s late and it’s dangerous and my brother’s staying at his boyfriend’s place tonight so I can stay in his bed and you can have mine.”

“Uhhh…” The man blinks at him, clearly taken aback. “Thanks? I- yeah, wow, thanks. You’ve already done so much for me, I just- are you sure?”

“I’m so sure. I’d never forgive myself if I just turned you back out into the night in the state you’re in.” Simon reassures him and means every word of it.

“I’d at least like to know the name of my Good Samaritan.” He gives a lopsided grin.

“I’m Simon.” The grin drops immediately, his eyes widening.

“Simon...Lambert?”

“...yes?” He breaks into a beautiful smile, tarnished only by a wince as it tugs on the split wound.

“I’m Josh. Joshua Sawyers.” It feels like the universe grinds to a halt and Simon’s been handed a serendipitous twist of fate.

“Oh my god.” Simon bites back a sob and throws his arms around him, and Josh laughs as he squeezes him close in return. “Oh my god it’s you.”

“It’s me.” He feels his smile against his neck, and Simon’s heart leaps into his throat.

“God it’s been like, twenty years!” He murmurs into his shoulder. “And you’re a professor now? Like your mother?”

“Just like mom, yeah.” Josh chuckles, the sound making butterflies erupt in Simon’s stomach. “And you’re back in Detroit!”

“Yeah, me and Danny moved back about seven years ago.” He pulls away only because the angle is starting to strain his back something awful. “He’s taking night classes for business management, and I work at the cafe close to the uni.”

“We’ve been so close all this time.” Josh smiles and the bathroom light puts a twinkle in those soulful dark eyes of his. “And now you’ve saved my life. My childhood bestie to the rescue.”

His smile is contagious, and Simon feels his cheeks ache from smiling so much. It’s a good kind of ache. He can’t remember the last time he smiled so brightly.

“I’m glad I found you again.” Is what he manages to say at last, and Josh’s beaming smile softens into something tender and fond.

“Yeah, me too.” He reaches out slowly, hesitantly, and grasps Simon’s hand. “I really missed you, Simon. I didn’t have anyone to read with after you left.”

“Can’t imagine North ever sitting still long enough to finish a book.” Simon quips, heart pounding as he tries to casually cope with the fact Joshua Sawyers is holding his hand and very gently rubbing his thumb over his.

“Her girlfriend is the Professor of Robotics at Colbridge University, can you believe it?” Josh tips his head back and laughs. “She’s a published author. I feel like that serves North right. All those times she made fun of us for reading as kids and now her girlfriend writes books.”

“You still see her.” It’s not a question, and Simon feels himself smiling as nostalgia washes over him, warm and soft.

“Yeah, we catch up every now and then. We’re part of an activist group led by Markus Manfred.”

“The artist? As in Carl Manfred’s son? Wow.” Simon blinks in surprise. “Isn’t he an actor too? He’s in that medical drama. Actor, artist, and activist. How annoyingly perfect.” Josh laughs loudly at that and Simon grins stupidly; a part of him knows he’d do anything to make him laugh. When Josh stands at his full height, he’s taller than Simon and a voice inside Simon’s head gleefully notes he’s the perfect size for hugs. He decides to test the theory and wraps his arms around Josh’s waist, turning his head so his ear is pressed to his chest, tucked under his chin.

“I’m really, really glad I found you again, Josh.” He doesn’t dare say it any louder than a whisper, but he feels Josh envelop him in his arms and smudge a kiss in his hair.

“Life led us back together.” It’s tinged with amusement, his tone, and Simon aches for him. It’s as though there’s a thread in his heart tethered to Josh.

“It’s you, Josh, it’s always been you.” He pulls away just enough so he can look into those deep dark eyes. “It’ll always be you.”

#dbh josh #dbh simon #detroit: become human #red string of fate #simosh #joshmon #what is the ship name fhdslfhjl #annie writes: dbh #dbhrarepairs #dbhrarepairsweek #today's song is it all comes down to this by aquilo

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thoughtlesstales · 5 years

Text

Every Birthday Has Surprises

Characters: Steve x Kono, Danny, Chin Words: 2335 Triggers: None that I can think off

A/N: Just a little Mckono for you should you so wish to have a read! Send a little love, if you enjoy it! Prompts always welcome!

Steve knew his gift would need to say everything he couldn’t. He had been searching for the right words for weeks on how to tell Kono what he felt. What he felt about her. Nothing was right though, he searched. Looked through shop windows, hoping something would jump out him and say ‘I love you’. Nothing did.

The excitment as he birthday grew closer for Kono. It was her first birthday since joining Five-0 and she was thrilled to be spending it with her Ohana. She kind of hoped that they were doing something, maybe a little get together, just a few beers and maybe cake, she really wanted cake, Chin knew especially of her sweet tooth.

When she woke on the morning of her birthday, she leapt from her bed and got ready for the day. When she got into the office she was the only one there. She expected to see at least Steve, he was always the first one in and then Kono would be the second. Some mornings they would sit and chat before Chin and Danny came in, other mornings not a word was said. Kono always hoped that the conversations in the mornings would lead to more, something outside of work maybe - but it never did.

Kono was in her office when everyone came in, not one person came into her office and wished her Happy Birthday, not even Chin. Sadness and a touch of anger started to sink into the pit of her stomach. She knew she had mentioned at least once that her birthday was today and Chin should have known anyway he had been celebrating it with her for the last twenty six, now twenty seven years.

The day slowly passed and not one person came up to her and wished her Happy Birthday. She hadn’t dared say something, if they weren’t going to remember, then she wasn’t going to remind them. She had got a Birthday wish from her parents and her brothers which made things a bit better. They day got a little better when they got a case, but it soon turned sour when they realised it was a prank by a bunch of kids. Back to the office they went and still nothing.

By four o’clock they were all send home by Steve and as they were leave Kono asked what they all had planned for the evening. Casual, it was like she was searching for a specific answer. Chin was spending the evening with Leilani, Danny was going home to watch some old movie and Steve said he was going to go for an extra long swim and then a couple of beers on the sand. When Chin asked her what she was going to do, she told them she was going to go to her parents for a couple of hours, then heading home, alone.

Kono did as she said she was going to do, she went to her parents, celebrated her birthday there. She got some amazing presents from her parents and brothers, she now also had enough money to get that new surfboard she was after. When she left she had a smile on her, which was more than what she had at work when she left. She had told her mom and dad about work and they laughed and told her that maybe they had more important things to deal with. It had annoyed her a little that they didn’t seem to care, and she felt guilty for feeling so self absorbed about one day; but she couldn’t help it. They were meant to be family.

She drove home stopping off a all night liquor store to buy something to help her through the night. She gathered her gifts in her hands after parking and climbing out of the car, heading for the door already looking forward to the bottle of wine in one of her bags. However before pushing the key into lock, she looked down to the little burgler alarm she had been using for fun ever since seeing it in a TV show. It was broken. Before she left the house each day she would put a small piece of tape on the bottom of the door, if it was unstuck it meant the door had been opened since her leave. This time it was unstuck, it was a silly little trick, but this was the first time it had ever been broken.

Carefully and quietly moving backwards, she dropped the bags down and moved round to the back of the house, the back door was open and she knew she had locked it before leaving this morning. She entered slowly drawing her firearm, she moved through the kitchen, clear; she moved into the living room and saw shuffling behind the couch. The burglar had their back to her. It would have been easier to shout ‘Five-0, Freeze’, but that would have given away her element of surprise and made things more difficult. At least this way she would be able to take down her intruder. She slid her weapon into the back of her pants, not going for the holster because she knew it made a clicking noise when being holstered, which may give her away.Then, silently preparing herself, she jumped the man. Wrapping her arm around his throat, she held on and attempted to take him down. They fought, and the lights switched on just as she was about to land a blow to the side of his head.

“Shit Steve!” Kono lept back, releasing her boss from the graip she had around his throat. “What the hell are you doing here?” As she started to look around the room she noticed that Chin and Danny were there as well and they were wearing stupid hats and had party poppers in their hands.

“Surprise!” They yelled together setting of the poppers with a bang, and a stream of multicoloured paper. Though Steve was still rubbing at his throat, with an amused look on his face as he croaked her ‘Surprise’

“You guys remembered?” She felt the swell of emotion bubble within her as she realized they had remembered and were in fact planning a surprise party for her. “I thought had all forgotten, you’ve basically been ignoring me all day.”

“Cuz you really think I would forget? I’ve been celebrating your birthday for twenty seven years,” Chin answered with a laugh, walking over and hugging his young cousin.

“Well we’ve only celebrated this year, but we still didn’t forget,” Danny smiled joining Chin, taking over when Chin stepped away. “Presents are on the table,” Danny pointed to a small pile of wrapped presents waiting on her to open.

“Thanks guys, would someone mind getting the shopping of the doorstep, I was preparing for a night alone.” Kono laughed pointing to the door and already heading to the table.

“I got it.” Chin asnwered already making his way to the door. When he returned with the bag, he had a question in mind. “How did you know we were in here? We made sure there was nothing out of place.”

“Walker Texas Ranger,” Kono laughed. They all looked at her confused. “Well in one of the episodes, he takes a strand of his hair and then wetting it he sticks it to the bottom of the door, when he comes home later that night the hair has been broken, I used tape instead.” Kono concluded feeling a little proud of herself.

“She’s beaten the Navy Seal!” Danny cheered, doubling at the waist with too much enthusiasm. “She managed to get the jump on his as well. Chin, Kono is winning.” Danny announced leaning across the table to high five the other man.

“There is a reason I love Chuck Norris.” Kono answered with a purr, thanking Danny when he passed her a beer.

“Isn’t he fifty plus now?” Chin asked with distaste, making Kono grin.

“I like older guys.” Kono answered with a shrug, purposely looking at Steve when she said it.

“Did not need to know that.” Danny and Chin announced in unison.

“This is from me.” Danny smiled pushing to the front to give her his present first. Kono unwrapped the the rectangular gift and saw it was three books by her favorite author. Three books that she hadn’t acquired yet, but were on her list to do so.

“How did you know?” Kono asked shock, she had told no one that she was a fan of the Nicholas Sparks books, she even secretly went to watch the films which tended to leave her crying by the end. But that was not something she was going to share with the guys.

“I saw one of his books when I was here the other day,” Danny laughed pointing to the book still sat on her desk. “See I’m a great detective.” He informed her with a wink.

“Okay stop hogging, my present.” Chin’s present was the width of her coffee table and Kono couldn’t figure out what it was. She unwrapped the box and the unlatched the black case, it did look like a gun box and to her surprise it was.

“Oh my God, that’s a Savage Model 111, I’ve been after one for ages.” Kono looked at Chin and then gun moving back and forth between the two. “These cost a fortune you shouldn’t have.”

“Well I was going to wait until your next big birthday, but I knew you’d buy it before then, so don’t expect anything at thirty.” Chin laughed hugging Kono when she threw herself at him.

“Cuz, I don’t expect anything till I’m thirty, that must have wiped you out.” she laughed drying her eyes.

“Yeah well, you're worth it.” he kissed her cheek and pushed her back to the gun. “Next case, I expect to see that in use.”

“Damn right, I’m not going anywhere without it.” Kono exclaimed stroking the gun.

“Another lunatic with a gun.” Danny sighed. “When will you learn not to encourage her!” Danny exclaimed hitting Chin on the shoulder with his fist, though they all knew there was no heat behind it.

“It’s fun to see your face and then Steve’s when she beats him again on the ranges.” Chin smirked, the devil in him showing. Steve had been silent the entire time she had been opening her presents from Danny and Chin, standing towards the back of the room occasionally nursing his throat. He finally spoke up when Chin attempted to engage him in the conversation.

That is not happening again!” Steve exclaimed pointing at Kono. “Rematch tomorrow Rookie, I’ll get you on base again.”

“Sure thing, now where’s my present.” She laughed rubbing her hands together eagerly, looking around the room for where he might have stashed it.

“I’ve gotta go get it.” Steve answered with a small smile, pointing towards the door. “It’s a little hard to wrap, so I kept it in the truck,” Steve explained before making his exit. Kono looked to the other two trying to see their faces to see if they knew what Steve had gotten her but they looked just as curious as her.

When he appeared through the door he was carrying a surfboard, it took a minute but Kono finally saw the designs on it and realised that they were her designs. The money she had been given for her birthday was what she was using to get the board made, but that had already been done.

“Steve, those are my designs, where did you get them?” Kono asked stunned, taking the board in hand when Steve offered it too her. She remembered taking them with her into the office the other day so finish tweaking the drawings, but she thought she had locked them away in her draw.

“I saw you working on them and I asked Chin what they were, he said they were designs for your board, so I may have done a little B and E on your draw to get them, pissed?” He answered grinning sheepishly at her from around the edge of the board.

“A little, but this makes up for it! Thank you.” She leaning over and wrapped her free arm around his neck hugging him, she also kissed his cheek softly and for a little longer than was probably necessary. However, this gift, the thought he had put into making sure she got the best gift ever made her fall even harder for him

“Anytime.” he muttered back.

The evening continued with drinks and cake, a lot of cake and Kono ate most of it. Chin and Danny left at midnight and Steve stayed to help Kono tidy some of it up before he left and she went to bed.

“Thank you for the board again.” She broke the silence that had been sitting around them since Chin and Danny had left. “I was going to get it with the money I had gotten from my parents.” She explained while gathering up a pile of bottles that had been left in the guys wake.

“It’s fine, I didn’t know what I was going to get you anyway, I had the guy work day and night so I would be ready.” He admitted adding to the bottle collection in her arms.

“Well it’s great.” She answered with a nod, slowly building the courage within her to say what she wanted. “Steve?”

“Huh?” He turned to face her, only to see that she was already right behind him. He could feel her breath on his face and her eyes boring into him. Eyes that was falling more and more in love with everyday.

“You wanna know what I wished for?” She asked breathlessly, staring up at him through thick lashes. She didn’t wait for him to answered before she took the last step towards him, her hands reaching out and settling against his abdomen, his t-shirt between her and his skin. “You.”

#steve mcgarrett #Kono Kalakaua #steve mcgarrett x kono kalakaua #Hawaii Five-0 fanfiction #hawaii five 0 #tt my works #tt steve x kono #tt h50 fanfiction all

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