#Let the man live and have some peace in his life like Sidney! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stardust-walker · 3 years

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World on Fire {Loki X Sigyn!Reader}

Summary: Sigyn was supposed to have died almost 100 years ago. A peace mission to Migard gone wrong and she had never returned. Everyone had thought she was dead until Loki is shown someone who looks too familiar when he comes to Earth on a mission. Sharon Odell. Shannon Orwell. Sidney Orwell. No matter what name she goes by, it’s all the same. Now that Gods and heroes are real, there’s no use hiding who she really is anymore.

TLDR; Sigyn has been hiding on Earth for like 100 years and gets sucked into being on the Avengers. A series based around the one-shot I did titled Undying Fidelity.

Chapter 1

They had been on the move for a couple days by the time they got to settle down. It definitely wouldn’t be long seeing how Loki seemed determined to recruit an army and lucky for him, SHIELD had no lack of enemies.

Unlucky for him, they worked faster than him.

“Jane Foster has been moved off the grid, sir. No record of her for the past few days,” Clint grumbled as he continued to click through the files of the people that SHIELD had decided were interesting enough to keep an eye on.

Selvig sighed and shook his head.

“Can you not do this on your own, doctor?” Loki frowned as he drummed his fingers on the handle of the scepter that he wouldn’t let out of his sight.

Selvig perked up. It could have been from nerves or excitement, the god wasn’t sure. “Of course, Loki. The Tesseract has shown me...so much about how it works! We should be able to share it with other people, don’t you think?”

Loki could practically feel the Other breathing down his neck as they spoke. He didn’t answer this time, at least not with words. Instead, he let out an annoyed sort of grunt as his eyes flickered over towards the Tesseract. Perhaps it would be helpful to have someone else in case he had to dispose of Selvig at one point or another. The human life-span was so different from his own so who was to say if the man got too old to serve his purpose.

“What about Sidney?” Clint spoke up again as he looked up from the tablet that he had been focused on for the past few minutes. This seemed to peek the older man’s interest; Loki just turned his gaze towards the archer and waited for him to continue. “She’s almost as good as Jane with the astrophysics, right?”

Loki had to stop himself as he nearly physically cringed at the mention of Thor’s Midgardian love.

“Almost?” Selvig laughed. “If she hadn’t disappeared off of the map 3 years ago, she would have made a real name for herself. Sidney Orwell was one of the brightest interns that Jane had...until Darcy, anyway.”

“What use is another individual of your specialty if they all can’t be found,” Loki said through gritted teeth.

“She can be found.” Clint assured them as he turned the tablet to face the other two men. “This was from last week. A convenience store pretty close to Gainesville, New York. It’s in the middle of nowhere. Population below 500. A good place for someone who doesn’t want to be found. Running diagnostics now!”

Loki leaned forward slightly. His facial features didn’t betray the interest that he felt as he took in as many details of the woman’s face as he could from the grainy security footage.

She looked young, but that wasn’t saying much. Many Midgardians would say he looked young as well. Her face was too blurry to really make out any details until a little box popped up in the corner of the screen.

“That’s a match!” Selvig shouted a few inches from Loki’s ear, but the god couldn’t be bothered.

He could see the woman’s face a lot more clearly now as the identification picture popped up on the screen beside a clearer version of the security footage. Loki’s head began to ache the longer he looked at the pictures. Something looked too familiar. Maybe it was the slope of her nose or the cheekbones, but something itched at the back of his brain. With one last fleeting glance, he spotted it and his breath stopped.

Without another thought, he rose to his feet and gritted his teeth. His grip on the scepter tightened as he turned away from the two SHIELD employees.

“Bring her to me.”

It was always a sort of special occasion when Sidney would leave her secluded little cabin and head into Gainesville in order to stock up on some essentials. The man behind the counter knew her by name as he knew everyone in the town. Sidney was always polite and pleasant but never revealed anything about herself. People in town tried their hardest not to talk to the woman that secluded. Some of the kids in town whispered about her being a witch. Sidney had heard a group of them once when she was headed home and she couldn’t help but smirk at them.

Today was different. The air felt thick and the cellphone that she carried in her pocket felt heavier than usual. A weary smile crossed her face as she set the few containers of ramen noodles on the counter with the rest of her items. “Hey there, Ben. How’s your mom doing this week?”

“Oh she’s doing great, Miss Orwell!” The younger man flashed her a bright smile as he rang up her items. “Should be back runnin’ the store in no time. About time too, I don’t think my nerves could handle it anymore.”

Sidney laughed quietly as she paid her total, “I’ll keep that between us.”

She was already in her own world again as she collected her bags and made her way to the car. As she slammed her trunk closed, a vibrating noise in her purse drew her attention. Her hand flew to her back pocket and she found her cellphone was still there, That meant…

The blonde hurried into the car and pulled a smaller black phone out of her bag as she tossed her normal phone onto the passenger seat.

Selvig. Her throat felt dry for some reason as she looked at the caller ID on the SHIELD issued phone. That had been part of the deal she’d made with Fury. She should have known better than to trust him and SHIELD after everything that had happened with Thor. Saved by the bell, she sighed out loud as the call went to her voicemail.

As she put the car in reverse, she took a deep breath before she began on her journey home. Her right hand shifted the car into drive again as her left hand entered the passcode to her voicemail.

“Sidney! It’s Erik. I don’t even know if this is still your number but give me a call when you get a minute. I have really important questions for you!”

“Why don’t you just ask Jane,” Sidney sighed as she clicked a button before she tossed the phone back into her bag.

Still, she couldn’t shake the nagging sensation that something was wrong.

Her suspicions were solidified as she came within eye-sight of her cabin a few miles later. An unmarked black car was parked on the side of the road just a half-mile away from her house and people were inside. The hair on the back of her neck stood up as she white-knuckled it down her driveway.

“You’re losing it, Si.” The blonde took a deep breath through her nose before she looked in her rearview mirror. The car had pulled off the side of the road and followed her now. “Well son of a bitch.”

Somehow, she managed to keep her demeanor calm as she put the car in park and walked to her door with her head held high. Sidney tried not to shudder as she heard the black car roll up closer down the driveway. She was safe in her house now but her eyes scanned the room quickly. She needed an escape route just in case and she found it just as a loud bang bang shook the door behind her.

“Just a minute,” she threw her voice as she grabbed a small swiss army knife off of her kitchen table and stuffed it one of her back pockets along with her SHIELD phone. Sidney took a deep breath and she opened the door.

“Oh! Hello, gentleman,” she flashed the two suited men a disarming smile as she peeked her head out. “How can I help you?”

“Sidney Orwell?” The shorter of the two asked. The blonde just nodded her head. “I’m Agent Downey and this is Agent Evans. We’re with SHIELD. You’re going to need you to come with us.”

“Is that supposed to mean something to me?” Sidney narrowed her eyes slightly as she glanced between the two men. “I don’t work for you. In fact, part of my deal with Fury was that he would let me live in peace if I let him keep an eye on me so I suggest you get back in your car and you leave.”

She went to push the door shut but a force stopped her. Anger flared through her as she wrenched the door open and stood to her full height. “I’m afraid we can’t do that, miss. We have orders.” Her eyes shot to the taller man. A shiver went down her spine this time as she locked eyes with him. There was something not right about it. “Erik Selvig requests your presence.”

“I don’t know Selvig was in a position to make requests of me,” she replied coolly.

“Everything could be explained if you just let us inside, ma’am.”

Sidney glanced over her shoulder into the kitchen for a moment before she stepped aside to let the two agents inside.

She closed the door behind them and quickly turned to face them. Everything about them just seemed...off. She was used to SHIELD agents and how they acted but there was something truly off about these two.

Time seemed to stand still and then all at once, everything was moving. The shorter man’s hand shot to the taser on his belt as the taller man pointed his gun at her. She hadn’t even realized she had the knife in her hand now. “Everything will be so much easier if you just come with us!”

“Go to hell,” Sidney hissed through gritted teeth.

“The Tesseract can show you so many things.”

Her eyes widened slightly. “What the hell did you just say?”

She didn’t get an answer. Instead she ducked as the probes of the taser embedded themselves in the door where her neck had been moments before. A yell left her as she jumped to her feet and tossed the knife at the taller man. The shorter one made a move to grab her as his partner screamed and cursed her as he tried to wrench the knife out of his hand. The woods were right there. Sidney cleared her mind as she dodged another punch from the shorter man. The man looked slightly shocked just as she punched him in the chest and sent him flying across the room.

Without another thought, she pulled the front door open and sprinted for the woods.

She had no idea how long she ran for. It could have been minutes or it could have been hours; all she knew was that by the time she stopped running, her lungs ached. Sidney nearly jumped out of her skin as she felt something. The cellphone in her back pocket was vibrating.

Her fingers shook as she pulled it from her pocket and answered without thinking.

“Listen you bastards if you think-”

“I see our intelligence wasn’t quite up to par on this information. I apologize, Miss Orwell,” a somewhat cheerful voice on the end cut her off. Sidney never thought she could be so happy to hear someone’s voice in her life.

“There better be a good reason why some of your agents showed up to my house unannounced talking about the Tesseract of all things, Phillip,” Sidney’s eye darted around the forest once again.

She could hear Coulson say something to someone else in the background before he replied. “Some of our agents have been...compromised.” He even sounded like he was cringing. “We were calling because we need your help.”

“I-”

“I know all about your deal, Sidney. Fury fully intends to honor it once the fate of the Earth isn’t in danger.”

Sidney swallowed hard as she started to walk again. “I want that in writing this time, Coulson,” she deadpanned.

“I’ll see what I can do. For now, just do me a favor. Walk North for about another 10 minutes. We’ll have a jet waiting for you.”

The line went dead before she could even reply.

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im-just-a-random-fandom-girl · 3 years

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You know what I want?

Domestic Stucky. In Westview. Hear me out.

(First of all, Endg*me can go fuck itself. Steve’s whole thing? Never happened. Forget about it. Wipe if from your mind. We’re rewriting that shit.)

(Also, this isn’t a fic even though I know it starts out looking like one lol. This is just stream of consciousness thoughts. I would put way more effort into actual writing)

The weeks after the final snap were hard.

Bucky was back, and it felt like every weight that had been dragging Steve down for the past 5 years was lifted. He was mentally and physically exhausted, but his soulmate, his best friend, was at his side again, pulling him into a warm hug, tight and breathtaking.

It was still hard; Steve was a very different man than he had been 5 years ago, but Bucky was calm and understanding. There was still much to mourn for, too. Tony and Nat were gone. Any sense of stability that had been established during those 5 years was immediately destroyed, and Steve was sure it would take many more years to try to fix the damage.

And Wanda. When Wanda was snapped back into existence, her grief was palpable. What had been 5 terrible years for him had been 5 minutes of bliss for her, relief that she wouldn’t have to try to live in a world without Vision. Steve knew the feeling. Even though he didn’t quite understand Wanda and Vision’s relationship (he was a robot?), he can’t really judge because he’s been pining after his childhood best friend for the better part of a century and still hasn’t managed to do anything about it.

To be brought back to life was the worst trick you could play on Wanda. Her sense of peace was snatched away from her and she was throttled back into a world that had nothing in it for her. Everyone she loved was dead. Her powers still deemed her a threat, even if she had played a crucial role in the fight against Thanos.

Steve wanted to be selfish and just run away with Bucky, but he couldn’t leave Wanda, who had become the little sister he never had.

He worried about her. Even as those who had been snapped away started to come to terms with the fact that 5 years had passed, Wanda wandered around, just a shell of her former self. Sometimes she fell into fits of rage and despair, using her powers to smash everything in her room at the compound or snapping at anyone who tried to distract her. Most of the time she was just blank.

Just a month after the return from the blip, Wanda strolls into the kitchen and announces that she’s going to S.W.O.R.D. headquarters. Steve’s head snaps up. Her eyes are hard and determined, and Steve belatedly realizes that every muscle in her body is tense as she readies herself to fight anyone who tries to stop her. Sam is the first to speak up.

“Okay, kid,” he breathes out nonchalantly, “you need anyone to go with you?” Sam is good like that. Always knowing what to say to make someone feel comfortable and cared about, but not coddled.

“No,” Wanda grits out. A breath, and then, softer, “thank you.”

Glancing around to see if anyone else had any objections, Wanda walks out of the compound.

Steve lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he was still holding, but the room is still tense. He whips around to Bucky, eyes wide with concern.

Before he can even say anything, Bucky reaches out and puts a hand on his shoulder, “Don’t worry. Come on, we’ll watch out for her.”

So, with a tight smile, Steve stands up and lets Bucky lead the two of them out.

It’s not until they are halfway down the street in an inconspicuous car, trailing a little ways behind Wanda’s red sedan that it occurs to Steve to ask what they’re doing.

“We’re just going to follow her to make sure she’s alright, pal. S.W.O.R.D. has Vision’s body, and it’s not a good idea for her to be alone, even if she thinks it’s best.”

“She’ll be mad if she realizes what we’re doing.”

“Good thing one of us is a reformed Russian spy,” he smirks.

Steve’s heart skips a beat at that familiar face, one that he hadn’t thought he’d ever see again, and blushes, ducking his head. If Bucky notices, he doesn’t say. They carry on in a comfortable silence.

As they pull into the S.W.O.R.D. parking lot, Steve watches Wanda march into the headquarters. He turns to Bucky, "Are we going to follow her in?"

"You can't, that's for sure." Steve scowls. "It's not entirely your fault, pal, but you're don't exactly blend in easily. But I'll go in to keep an eye on her if you want me to."

Steve considers the offer for the moment. As much as he wanted to watch out for Wanda, he knew that if she found out, it would hurt her more. She would think that he didn't trust her, and that he was following her to make sure that she didn't lose control of her powers and hurt people. He didn't want to make her feel more ostracized than she already was.

"No, we'll just wait," he says, shaking his head. His eyes never leave the entrance to S.W.O.R.D. headquarters.

The wait for Wanda feels excruciatingly long. Steve doesn't trust that S.W.O.R.D. is any better than S.H.I.E.L.D., and he honestly has no idea what they've been doing with Vision's body for the last 5 years. A renewed sense of guilt washes over him. If he had tried to fight S.W.O.R.D. harder for Vision's body, Wanda wouldn't be here, fighting through her grief to see him one last time. After the snap, Steve didn't feel like he could waste his dwindling energy scrutinizing S.W.O.R.D's every move, but he now wishes he had. He could have spared her this pain.

Sensing the anxiety bubbling up within him, Bucky reaches out, pulling Steve's hand into his own. "It's not your fault, Steve," he reminds him gently. Steve squeezes his hand in response.

Wanda walks out of S.W.O.R.D. headquarters 20 minutes later. She seems drained and tired, but her expression reveals nothing. They wait again before following her out of the lot.

When she turns right, away from the direction of the compound where he assumed she would return, Steve frowns. "Where is she going? The compound's the other way."

Bucky shrugs. "I guess we'll see."

Steve has no idea where they are until he sees a sign declaring "Welcome to New Jersey!" not far down the highway.

"What the hell is she going to Jersey for?" Bucky gasps, pulling a loud laugh from Steve's chest. It's absurd and ridiculous, but it reminds Steve of when they were kids in Brooklyn, shitting on the Yankees and the state's annoying accent, among the plethora of other abhorrent traits about New Jersey. Bucky starts laughing with him, shaking his head.

They finally arrive in a small, run-down town called Westview. Steve can't imagine why Wanda would come here.

Her red sedan comes to a stop in front of an empty plot of land, and she steps out, clutching a folded piece of paper to her chest.

"Oh, Christ... Shit," Bucky mutters. Steve is about to ask what he's thinking when he finally sees Wanda's walls crumble.

Her shoulders shake with the force of her sobs, and she falls to her knees with a cry of desperation. A red orb of her twists around her body and Steve shoves the door to the car open, desperate to get to Wanda.

"Steve!" he hears Bucky cry out behind him, and it's the last thing he hears before Wanda's powers implode around her, and his vision is blotted with red.

Remember! Wanda made all of her characters in the hex as similar to their actual lives as possible to ease her control of them! SO, it's only natural that her powers would pick up on the fact that Steve and Bucky are very obviously pining for each other and put them in a loving relationship while they are in the hex. Since they are both under Wanda's control, their storyline would happen mostly independently from what we see in WandaVision. I wouldn't have there be any smut (since I'm not talented enough or comfortable writing it myself) so there wouldn't be any non-con or any serious dub-con while they are in the hex. The idea is that both of them want everything that they are made to do (be partners, hold hands, kiss, do other couple-y stuff), but they are concerned because they think the other would feel disgusted and not want it.

There unfortunately were not any gay characters on TV in the 50s and 60s, so I would write these two "episodes" with loose ties to other sitcoms from those decades and do some research into how gay couples lived during these time periods. Basically, reimagine my own 50s and 60s sitcoms with realistic portrayals of a gay couple.

For the other decades, I would then base their relationship off of those actually depicted in sitcoms from that time.

It should be noted that, while I have actually watch a lot of old sitcoms, I haven't watched many of the ones I mention. If I every decide to write this, I would do a lot more research on these shows (and watch some episodes!)

70's - I would likely draw from Barney Miller, Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman, and Soap.

80's - Roseanne is pretty iconic, but I would be a little hesitant to write it after all of the controversy a couple years ago. Love, Sidney may also work, but I don't know enough about the show.

90's - Will & Grace, of course! I don't know anything about Northern Exposure, but the little bit of research I've done suggests that also may be a source of inspiration.

2000 through early 2010s - It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia and Modern Family. (I loved The War At Home, but it doesn't really fit)

When Wanda releases everyone from the hex, Bucky and Steve had some serious miscommunication issues and angst. Both feeling exceedingly guilty about their actions, despite the fact that they had no control over them. They got a taste for what domestic life would be like together, and they are frustrated that they enjoyed it since they believe the other one did not. When Wanda explains that her powers gave everyone jobs, relationships and roles in society that were equally comparable to those they had in real life, Bucky and Steve both realize that the hex would not have put them in a relationship if it wasn't what the other also wanted. Yay! They make-up (and make-out, lol).

I seriously want to write this, but I really don't have the confidence that I will be able to execute it as I imagine it. If someone wants to work on it with me (be it we both write it or you just want to offer some brainstorming help/story guidance), I would be thrilled! Just so long as there isn't any pressure to get it done in a time crunch. I just want this writing experience to be fun! Also, if you are interested, I swear I’m a better writer than what was just exhibited, but I really only spent an hour or so on it, so it’s obviously not my best work.

Anyway, if you have any thoughts, suggestions, advice etc or just want to scream about WandaVision and/or Stucky, please feel free to PM me or stop by my inbox. It would make my day :)

#sara says stuff #my writing #wandavision #stucky

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sorry-i-spaced · 3 years

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Issues

Hawkeye is seen in the show as being a ladies man and quite the player. We know his mom died when he was just 10 and we know Caryle and Trapper both left without saying bye to Hawkeye. So I decided to play with the idea that he has abandonment and commitment issues because of this. I borrowed some of the dialogue from the episode “The More I see of You” in the beginning.

“If you’d gone into medicine with the same lack of conviction as marriage”

“Your work is always going to be the single most important thing in your life”

“Maybe you would have needed me a little more”

“Doug was able to commit”

“Commit”

Lack of conviction”

“Work….important...lack of conviction”

“Commit”

“Hawk? Hawkeye? Earth to Hawkeye! Anybody up there?” waved a concerned BJ.

“Huh? Oh,yeah, what?” shook Hawkeye as he came back to reality.

“Did you say something?” asked Hawkeye realizing he had zoned out big time.

“Yea, I was asking if you wanted to get dinner. I heard Igor was sick of all the grief we gave him so he made an upside down dinner in retaliation.”

Hawkeye sat there contemplating whether food was more important than wallowing in self pity for the way he let things get between Carlye and him.

“Nah, I think I’m just going to nap. We are supposed to get a heavy influx of wounded by dawn and I want to catch up on sleep.” And with that BJ got up to leave and Hawkeye laid down in his army issued mess of a cot and shut his eyes.

“Incoming wounded! All Medical and Surgical staff report for triage! Looks like it will a doozy” barked the PA system.

Opening his eyes Hawkeye threw his pillow in the direction of Beej.

“Get up” he yelled.

The red haired man rose (wait that’s not right Beej has blonde hair)

“Did you dye your hair and forget to tell me?” asked the raven haired man confused.

“Not that I’m aware of” called back the other man as he was putting on his shoes.

The two quickly ran out the door.

In triage Hawk got right to work.

“This one has a chest wound. Get some blood in him and get him prepped”

“This one can wait”

Hawkeye barked orders to the nurses. He got up and made a run for the O.R.

“Hawkeye! How goes it?” asked Klinger, who was running in the same direction as him.

Boom!

“Ahh!” yelped Klinger as he threw his head forcefully into the dirt.

Hawkeye stopped dead in his tracks and looked at the man. Cocking his head to the side he says, “ Klinger, a landmine went off. You’re fine. Get your head out of the dirt this instant. Anybody looking on would think you're bucking for a section 8 again. By reason of ostrich.

“I’m not acting sir” deadpanned Klinger as he lifted his head, shaking the dirt out of his hair.

Hawkeye blinked and shook his head. Klinger was right, he was an ostrich through and through.

“When did this happen?” he asked.

“I’ve always been one sir. You just couldn’t tell since I spend so much of my time in dresses confident I can get out of the Army. But to be honest I’m scared as shit. Scared of dying and scared I won’t ever return to Toledo the same as I left.”

The two were now in the scrub room. Hawkeye was washing up.

“So Beej dyes his hair and forgets to tell me and you're an ostrich?What else will happen today.”

“Beej didn’t dye his hair. He is a robin.”

“A robin? As in the bird?” questioned Hawkeye as he patted his hands dry.

“He is a songbird. Yes. If you don’t believe me just look at him yourself.”

The two had somehow ended up in the O.R and Hawkeye was at a table picking apart peacock feathers. Hawkeye looked up and to his surprise Beej was in fact a big fat plump red robin - complete with wings and a beak.

Looking at Klinger Hawkeye was left to wonder, “why?”

“He left his baby girl very early on in her life.”

Again Hawkeye had moved from the O.R back into the scrub room. These abrupt scene changes were getting awfully annoying.

“We all left family to be dragged to this God Forsaken Hell Hole. Why should he be so special.”

“Well for much of the same reason that I’m scared he feels guilty about leaving during such a crucial part of his little girl's life.”

“My mom left me early on in life, I turned out fine.” Hawkeye spat back.

Hawkeye who realized he was sitting on the bench leaned back against the wall and shut his eyes. Pursing his lips together he began to ask more questions trying not to dwell on the fact his mom left him.

“So Beej is guilty and you're scared. Is there anyone else I should know about?”

Silence. Klinger was trying to figure out what to say. This was all coming out too fast. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. His job was to help propel the story along and these observations were supposed to happen naturally. Well as naturally as having birds operate on patients who just see the shell of the person not the bird. But no this man was too smart for even his unconsciousness. Finally he began to speak, slowly hoping he wouldn’t reveal too much.

“Our fearless leader Potter is a bald eagle because he is insecure in his talents. He is a career man - as I’m sure you’re aware of. But he lacks the knowledge of all these fancy techniques you young doctors seem to pick up so easily. Margaret is a puffin because all she wants to do is be accepted by everyone. Frank is a hummingbird because he is annoying as all shit and is very insecure due to it. Oh and you’re a peacock.”

That got Pierce to shoot up like a bean pole.

“Wait! Aren’t you going to tell me why I’m a peacock?” his voice raised and wavered a bit.

“Sorry sir, you’ll have to figure that one out on your own.

“What why? Klinger, you gotta tell me! Come on we know everyone else’s insecurities, why can’t I know my own?”

Klinger didn’t know how to respond. He knew he had 3 sets of 10 minutes and 1 set of an hour of time to try and get Hawkeye to learn why he is a peacock. But he also knew it was up to his subconscious to interact with his unconscious to help move the narrative.

“Ow!” yelped Hawkeye breaking the silence.

“What the hell was that?”

Not even Klinger had an explanation.

All of sudden a flying pillow came out of nowhere.

Klinger now understood what was happening. Someone was trying to wake Hawkeye. There little mental party would be ending soon.

“Hawk” echoed a ghostly sound.

“Why are you calling me a Hawk, I thought you said I was a peac-”

His eyes shot open! Looking down at him were a pair of blue eyes. Beej

“What? What happened?” Hawkeye asked as he began to get up.

“Wounded” called Beej as he put on his converse.

“Suction! So yea, don’t know what any of that means but thought I’d share my dream with the rest of the class,” said Pierce as he tried to stop a bleeder his patient had come in with.

“That’s scary accurate. Especially my fear. How did you pin us all down like that?” called BJ concentrating on his own bleeder.

“Pierce, are you good with birds? Seems like you pinned us to an appropriate matching bird” called Potter.

Hawkeye was now working on closing up the patient, “I’ve gone bird watching with my dad back in Maine. One time when I was a kid, right when mom died, he decided to get his mind off her death he was going to do a Big Year. I would come along on bird watching expeditions during school breaks and weekends. But I still would like to know why I’m a peacock. Of all the birds to be.” called Hawkeye.

“If it bugs you that much, why don’t you ask Sidney the next time he comes up for Poker.” said BJ when they were back in the Swamp.

They were finally out of surgery and the two swamp rats were playing tennis with a blown up surgical glove they took from the scrub room.

A week later, before Poker was supposed to take place, Sidney was set up in the VIP tent chatting with Hawkeye.

“So you dreamt about everyone’s fears personifying and taking the form of birds? What do you think it means?” lead the Psychiatrist.

“I don’t know Sidney, you tell me, you’re the expert on these types of things.” pleaded Hawkeye, who had taken up pacing around the tent.

“Hawk, I want you to get to that conclusion yourself. It won’t be helpful if I do it for you.”

Hawkeye stopped pacing and sat down on the edge of the bed. “What do you want to hear. I want to be as helpful as possible. In my dream Klinger said basically the same thing.”

“Humor me and tell me about your childhood, that’s always a good place to start when talking about fears and issues,” claimed Sidney.

“My childhood. What do you wanna know” asked Hawkeye.

“How was your relationship with your mom?”

“Nonexistent. I’ve told you before she died when I was 10. Just been dad and I since then.” replied Hawkeye flatley.

“Do you have any resentment towards her dying?” pried Sidney.

“You know dad didn’t even tell me she was sick? He waited until she passed to come clean and tell me. I didn’t even get to say goodbye. I was angry for years. At her for getting sick and at dad for not having the decency to tell me she was sick. But I got over it. No hard feelings”

Rambled Hawk.

“Ok, so issues from mom, how about dad?”

“Dad? Oh he was great! After mom died we became thick as thieves. He was the one who inspired me to go into medicine. He wasn’t too happy about it to be honest.” gleaned Hawk.

“I remember you telling me last time I was here that there was a nurse here that you had an old fling with. How did that end?”

“Caryle. I really don’t know what happened. We were living together during residency you know.”

Raising an eyebrow Sidney interjected, “ So you guys were serious?”

“That’s what I thought.” continued Hawkeye. “But just like mom and just like Trapper did 6 months ago, she up and left. I didn’t get to say bye or anything. She just one day decided she had enough of me, packed her bags and was out of the apartment before I even had time to get home and try and stop her. I thought Trapper would have at least left something. But I guess not. I guess I’m just not worth the hassle to say bye too. God. Why did dad not let me tell mom bye. Her own son was in the dark. I get Caryle and Trapper. It was bound to happen. Unhappy relationship and discharge but God, mom? Really? I hated her for it you know. I just wish once someone would leave and tell me about it first. Why do I always have to be the last to know. I bet the thing I got going on with Beej will end just as abruptly as it did with Trapper.” rambled on Hawkeye.

“Hawkeye, stop a minute, let’s process all that you said.” steered Sidney realizing he was losing his patient rapidly.

Hawkeye shut up and listened.

“You mention over and over that you never got to say goodbye to all these people. You also mention being the last to hear of relationships ending.”

“Yea, so?” sighed Hawkeye.

“Let’s go back to the dream. In the dream you describe each of your friends as birds relating to their fears and issues. Beej - your best friend is a robin because he is guilty for leaving his baby girl. Klinger is an ostrich - which I never would have pegged him as so thank you for that lovely image - because he is scared and fearful he won’t return home and if he does he will be completely different. Potter is a bald eagle because he is insecure in his abilities despite being a career man in the army. Margaret is a Puffin because she has the fear that she will never fit in anywhere so she forces herself to. And Frank is a hummingbird because he is insecure in his own way and -”

“ - a peacock for commitment issues” finished Hawkeye.

“Precisely. It seems like you are scared to trust people because everyone seems to leave you at some point. Starting way back when your mom left you abruptly. Oh also in my own professional diagnosis I would also tack on abandonment issues” added Sidney.

“What gives Sid, I thought you were going to let me come to the conclusion on my own accord.” whimpered Hawkeye.

“Eh, I see how hard you’re trying to figure this all out, so I decided to give you a freebie” laughed Sidney.

“Well in true Freud fashion, my issues really do stem from my mother,” laughed Hawkeye sadly.

The two sat for another hour trying to brainstorm ways Hawkeye could push past these thoughts of abandonment and commitment issues and how he could overcome them.

The End!

#mash #fanfic #birds #freud #hawkeye pierce #klinger #sidney freedman #fears #issues

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therisinggear · 4 years

Text

Ghost Of a Chance. Chapter 1

A Ghost of a Chance!: The Ghost Queen's Slaughter!

~Amity Park- Three years ago~

The town of Amity Park, a town tied to the paranormal. Ghosts from other dimensions have invaded the living plane of existence time and time again. Most are just relatively normal people. While others are, for lack of a better term Supervillains. Because of the influx of evil ghosts, one young hero fought to keep the peace.

Danny Fenton was just fourteen when his parents built a very strange machine. The Ghost Portal, It was designed to view a world unseen. During its test run, it failed to activate and it was left to collect dust in its parent's lab.

One day on a dare from his friends made him put on a Jumpsuit and go inside it. "I still think this is a REALLY bad idea, Sam! Have you ever even seen The Fly?" Danny tells her before he accidentally presses the On button, activating the portal with him inside with the help of this horrifyingly dangerous design flaw. With a bright green glow, Danny's screams in agony. His friend Tucker holds Sam back when she tries to run in and get Danny out. "NO STOP IT'S TOO DANGEROUS!!" Tucker screams at her.

"LET ME GO TUCKER If We Don't DO ANYTHING DANNY IS GOING TO DIE!!" Sam screams as she kicks Tucker in the stomach. He drops to the floor with the wind knocked out of him. A changed Danny stumbles out, staggered by the experience. His black hair is now snow white and his blue eyes now glowing green. The white/Black jumpsuit had its colors inverted.

After that Life changing day, Danny gained the abilities of a ghost. While learning his new abilities became a hero. At one point even saved the earth with every ghost he ever fought.

~Three years Later~

After fighting ghosts for three whole years, Amity Park has had ghosts become an everyday part of life. With Danny becoming a literal symbol of Ghost and Humans working well together, Ghost has been given rights as citizens. Some of Danny's old enemies gave up antagonizing humans and got real jobs.

Sidney Poindexter got his GED and became an Anti-bully activist. He actively reduced bullying in schools by telling kids how he took his own life because of it.

The Hothead Ember Mclain made it big as a legitimate performer with a record deal. She may even be going platinum soon.

Hell, even The Box Ghost got a job with FedEx.

One day, Danny was out buying new college prep books when he spotted another one of his old enemies in the coffee shop, looking depressed. Desiree the wishing ghost is waiting for her coffee, dressed in a suit. She appears worried about something, checking her watch.

"Oh boy this can't be good." He mumbled to himself, trying not to draw her attention. He starts to feel sorry when she pays for her coffee. A heartbroken Desiree just stares blankly at her phone. Soon she spots him in the distance and politely waves while grinding her teeth. "Fantastic, My date stands me up and now I have to deal with the Phantom boy!"

"Oh man, I'm so going to regret this later." He awkwardly waves back at her before gesturing to her he is leaving. Danny walks away with a sigh of relief. "Talk about awkward running into a former enemy!" Without paying attention he bumps into Desiree. "Ahem!"

Danny would have jumped in shock if his Ghost Sense didn't already let him know she was right in front of him. Desiree looks down at him with her arms crossed. "What do you want, Phantom?" An enraged scowl on her face before she notices the books in his hand. "Oh, you didn't come for me!" She calms down a bit and even laughs. "Forgive me, I've not been in the best of moods."

Danny laughs, nearly dropping his books. "I was just as surprised to see you, Desiree! I almost went ghost like the old days out of habit." The former adversaries laugh at the whole situation. "So how are you, Desiree? By the get up I'm assuming you've gone legit like a lot of other ghosts."

"Yes I passed the bar exam and I'm now a lawyer." She clarifies with pride written on her face. "I happened to order two coffees and my date decided not to show up, care to join me?"

Both of them return to the coffee shop and have a friendly conversation, like the hostilities of their past is now gone."Your date sounds like a real dumbass to stand you up. So you chose to be a lawyer? I have to admit I never saw that one coming. The Box Ghost working at FedEx I saw a mile away, but this takes me by surprise." The ghost boy admits to her.

"In the last three years, I've tried many different jobs but being a Lawyer had the most appeal, so I committed to law school. Getting a GED was the First real challenge because the last time I had a formal education was two-thousand years ago. " She points at Danny's books while taking a sip. "So how about you Phantom? You look like you are getting serious in your studies in these peaceful times."

"I want to be an astronaut one day and with the lack of Ghost fighting, I've had more time to study for it. Good riddance too, I never really liked all the non-stop fighting anyway. Like the first time we fought, You kicked my butt big time before I made a wish."

"I hope one day my wishes can come true," Desiree mumbled to herself with some regret. "The one thing I can never have."

"Your own Kingdom if I remember that gypsy's story right." Danny muses out loud. Desiree shakes her head with a sad look on her face.

"That was just a superficial legend, not the real story. What I really wish for is something I never had."

~Fenton labs~

Four years after Danny got his powers from the ghost portal, the constant battles always took their toll on him every time but he always bounced back. From the Box ghost to the former ghost King, he always came back stronger. However, he might have his hands full this time. His many enemies began the unthinkable. They somehow found a way to make his ability to feel the incoming presence of another ghost useless. Under the command of the new Ghost Queen, they went after his friends and family one by one.

Wave after wave of the Ghost Queen's minions worn the now eighteen-year-old ghost boy down. Soon he was overpowered by her most fearsome henchmen, Beaten to the point he could not fight back.

He is on his knees in a Burning laboratory as his two most powerful foes looming above him. The Fright Knight, the spirit of Halloween and an evil older copy of himself from another timeline called Dark Danny. "Games over kid it's been over before it even began!" His evil parallel self-boast. Dark Danny lifts Danny by the neck, strangling his younger self while charging up a blast in his other hand. Danny is too beaten and bloody to fight back. "Time to DIE!!"

Danny almost gets blasted through the stomach before the Fright Knight cuts Dark Danny's arm off. "Her Highness the Queen ordered us to bring him to her alive!!" The Knight snarls at his partner. An enraged Dark Danny throws a swing before the Fright Knight has a blast aimed at his head. "And I've been given the freedom to eliminate you if I see fit!"

Dark Danny stops baring his teeth at the knight and regains his cool. "You know, I liked it better when you served me in my timeline." He drops Danny and reattaches his arm.

A terrified Danny tries to crawl away but is too gravely injured to get far. "D-Danny?" His sister Jazz is buried under rubble, in tears and reaching out to him as she bleeds out. Dark Danny picks Jazz up off the ground by the hair. A sadistic smirk on his face as he looks down at Danny. "Hello sis, miss me?" Jazz spits blood in his face as a last act of defiance. "Go To Hell!"

"You're already here Jazz, and you are about to meet the devil herself?" He puts her in an ectoplasmic bubble along with Danny. "Lucky for you, she did say to bring at least one living family member."

He waves his hand to make a Ghost Portal.

~Ghost Zone~

The two villains enter it, on the other side is a massive palace in the Ghost Zone. Various ghosts and humans on their knees in the throne room. A ghostly servant blows a horn, "Presenting The new Ghost Queen! Her Highness Queen..." A tall busty woman with an hourglass figure walks down a dark corridor, her red eyes shine in the darkness before she enters the light. Her skin is brown with glowing veins marks all over her arms, veins that change between red blue yellow and green. "...Desiree!"

The (Former) Wishing Ghost sets on her new throne, giving Danny a lustful leer. "Bring him closer and release him." She orders her henchmen, her eyes never leaving the ghost boy. Dark Danny makes his Ecto-Bubble vanish, he kicks his younger counterpart towards the foot of Desiree's throne. The barely conscious Danny can't keep his eyes open as The Ghost Queen gingerly caresses his face. "And I had this grand speech planned and you deliver him to me almost dead!?"

Dark Danny laughs smugly with fangs before a look of rage takes over him. He is looking at his hand as he is being removed from existence in green fire. "We had a deal! I give you what you want, you give me what I want!", He screams.

Desiree picks Danny up bridal style, her expression is cold as she glares at Dark Danny. "Your results are unsatisfactory, enjoy existing no more." Dark Danny disappears, vanishing within the flames.

~Hours later~

Danny wakes up in a large bed with all his injuries healed. "Where am I?!" He gets out of the bed only to fall on his face, his legs feel like jelly. "Oh great, I'm in enemy territory and I can't walk or go ghost!" Arms wrap around him as a pair of soft lips kissed him on the cheek. He spots the Ring of Rage on her finger. He sees Desiree's new look like she is almost human again. The flaming crown of her head gives him a clue, much to his horror.

"The numbness will subside in time, but you need to rest," Desiree whispers into his ear, her embrace getting tighter when Danny struggles to get loose. "Desiree, is this really you? What did you do to yourself!?"

She puts him back in the bed. Danny then remembers Jazz was with him. "Jazz, what did you do to her?!", He shouts at her.

"Healed up and resting in another room. As for what I did to myself..." She puts her right hand up to Danny so he can see the glowing Ring. "...I transcended beyond a ghost or my original humanity, with the power of the former ghost king's ring and crown."

Danny looks at her with abstract terror. "You took those from him?! Do you have any idea what those can do?! If your not careful you can destroy the whole ghost zone and the earth along with it!"

"Worth the risk, I am making an empire, one where ghosts and Humans can be equals. I'm just about finished all I need now is..." Queen Desiree forces him down onto the bed, She Kisses Danny while holding him down. She moans loudly, forcing her tongue down his thought. "...a king to rule beside me!~"

All Danny can say is a flat, "W-What the fuck!? Those things are making you crazy!" His eyes were wide with shock and confusion. "What does this have to do with me anyway?!"

Desiree while still on top smiles warmly, laying next to him. "It's Very simple Danny.~" Her voice is sweet, yet has an undertone of insanity. "You and I marry then rule a glorious empire as Husband and Wife."

"I'm a little young for you, don't you think? I only just turned eighteen." He asks Desiree with a sliver of fear.

"TIME OUT!!"

Time is frozen in place and when it starts Danny is gone. "Oh, no Worries Your of age now. Wait..." The Ghost Queen looks around the room before flinging into a rage. She fires a blast that destroys a wall. "Clockwork!"

Queen Desiree flies out so fast she makes a sonic boom.

~Clockwork's Realm~

Clockwork the master of time opens up a portal in time. A weakened and injured Danny has a Time medallion on him. "If you wish to Save all of the creation, go now!" The normally calm Master of time screams in panic.

Danny limps into the Time portal and in a flash of light is gone. "DANNY!!!" The Ghost Queen screams blows open the wall. *BOOM!* She conjures skeletal arms to bind Clockwork and depower him. "Clockwork Your queen has questions regarding her consort! Return him to me and I'll show you mercy and even forgive your crimes!"

"Danny is already gone and you can't get to him. You may be seemingly omnipotent with the power of the Ghost King but even You have no power over time!" Desiree blasts him into oblivion, leaving no trace of Clockwork. With a snap of her finger, The Fright Knight is Summoned.

"Follow Danny and bring him to me no matter the cost!"

"At once your majesty!" Her knight with his orders enters the portal.

Queen Desiree descends into maniacal laughter. "I will have you, Danny! Even if I have to rip apart time and space! So I wish it so shall it be!!"

#Danny Phantom #fanfic #hartfanart

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knifeshoeoreofight · 5 years

Photo

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

TW: Discussion of animal/human abuse, death, and slavery as it applies to the Russian serf/feudal system

Sidney’s memories of the ride home from the ball are hazy the next day, but he remembers enough to blush at the speculative look Zhenya gives him across the breakfast table the following day. Well, luncheon table, perhaps, as they both sleep until noon after such a late night.

Sidney has never really been the type for liaisons. He’d had a few brief affairs with close friends at Oxford, but that was all it had been. Mutually agreeable, and a comfortable assurance at the time that come his wedding night, he would have at least some idea of what to do.

He’s never really felt the urge for more than that. He’d admire a beautiful person without much desire to act upon that admiration in any way. No one sets fire to his blood like Zhenya does.

He tries to read his correspondence but fails miserably. Zhenya is sitting right there, worrying that voluptuous lower lip of his between his teeth as he muddles through the book he’s currently reading.

Sidney is getting a little lost pretending he isn’t watching Zhenyas’s big hands carefully turn the pages of his book, when McCann practically skids into the room.

“Forgive me, your lordships, but Mr. Heinze said to alert you with all haste, we have an unexpected visitor, she--”

“Sidney Patrick Forbes-Crosby!” rings out a clear, familiar voice from the hall.

“Oh no,” is all Sidney has time to say before, with an indignant rustle of silk skirts, his sister sweeps into the room.

***

Sidney was prepared for Taylor perhaps to be angry with him, but he is not prepared for the brittleness to her voice when, after she cordially greets Zhenya and lets him bow over her hand, she draws Sidney aside to speak to him.

“Sid,” she says, and just looks at him, eye swimming with tears. “Why--”

“Oh, Tay,” he says softly. “I’m sorry.” She lets him embrace her, but removes her gloves and whacks him with them when he releases her.

“So. What is your excuse for marrying with only a letter to me after the fact?” she says. “Tristen and I were traveling and that delayed our receiving the letter even longer. What was so urgent, Sidney, that you--” She pauses again, to compose herself.

“Evgeni’s life,” Sidney says simply, and she shakes her head.

“How very like you, Sid,” she tells him. “Tell me everything?”

“I’ll tell it with Evgeni,” he says, and they do.

***

After they’re through recounting the entire affair, Taylor looks at the both of them for a long time, evaluating. Her eyes linger on Zhenya, who fidgets a little under her gaze but meets it all the same.

Taylor sighs. “Magistrate Bettman is a blackguard.If the both of you are happy, I’m happy as well.” It’s an olive branch, and Sidney is grateful for it.

Zhenya looks a little shocked to have his well-being included, and Sidney reaches over to squeeze his hand where it lies on the arm of his chair. That’s just how his sister is. Her kindness runs deep.

“Now that that’s all been explained, I have some news of my own,” Taylor says, sitting up very straight in her chair. “You are to be an uncle. Well, both of you, I suppose.”

“Taylor!” Sidney starts out of his chair. “Oh, Tay, truly?” When she nods, a brilliant smile taking over her face, Sidney sinks back down, and has to pass his hand over his tear-filled eyes. Zhenya settles a heavy hand on the back of his neck, squeezing gently. When Sid looks over at him, Zhenya smiles.

“So good, Sid,” Zhenya says, and Sidney can only nod.

Taylor regards the two of them with an odd little smile, but something else occurs to Sidney before he has time to try and parse what is going through that head of hers.

“Where the devil is Tristan? He left you to travel alone?”

Taylor waves her hand. “Don’t be difficult, Sidney. It’s very early days. And Tristan should be here tomorrow or thereabouts. He had some business to take care of and I insisted he do so. I’m not a porcelain doll. Tristan trusted me when I told him I was fine.”

Sidney grumbles a bit, and Zhenya gives him a fond look.

“Let lady decide own life always,” he says, and Taylor laughs.

“Exactly, I think I like you,” she declares, and Zhenya beams.

“Now who is this?” she asks, and rises to lift Koshka from where she’d been sprawling luxuriously on the rug.

“Sid’s baby,” Zhenya says with a grin, and Taylor snorts.

“Seems I’m an auntie as well,” she teases, and although Sidney senses that his future is likely to contain a lot of Taylor and Zhenya joining forces to tease him, he cannot help but be ridiculously pleased about it.

***

They have a dinner party of their close friends in honor of Taylor and Tristan’s felicitous news. Zhenya seems more comfortable with everyone now. He compliments Catherine on her gown which results in an enthusiastic conversation about brocade that Sidney cannot quite follow.

Zhenya overhears Julie mention potentially investing in a particular shipping endeavor and stops her. He knows the waters and ships she speaks of, and knows the scheme is a swindle through and through, according to him.

As she thanks him for the information Sidney help but smile proudly and perhaps too fondly across the table at his husband.

Taylor elbows him and he turns to her.

“I was really worried, you know,” she says softly, so they are not overhead. “I thought you had made the greatest mistake of your life. I’m so glad I was wrong. Anyone could see how much you love each other.”

Sidney tries to reveal nothing, but there must be a flicker of what he feels in his eyes. Taylor could always read him better than anyone.

“Sid?”

Sidney looks at his hands. He’s twisting a linen napkin into a shapeless wad.

“You’re half right, Tay. I love him.”

Taylor looks stricken, then glances across the table. Zhenya is watching them, frowning a little. He tilts his head inquiringly, as if to ask if everything is alright. Sidney shakes his head, and smiles at him. Zhenya, partially mollified, turns back to Letang, with whom he’s comparing cuff styles. He keeps glancing across the table though, still a little concerned for Sidney’s wellbeing. It makes Sidney smile helplessly again, down at his plate so that no one sees.

“Are you quite sure, brother?” Taylor asks him. “The way he--”

“Please, Tay,” Sid begs her, and she mercifully keeps her peace.

***

Spring, along with visitors, brings the annual horse fair to Truro. The horse fair is more apt to boast farm and cart horses- more finely bred animals are typically found by inquiring with wealthy gentlemen. Sidney has a feeling, though, that some hot-blooded, nervous Thoroughbred is not what would set Zhenya at ease. For, like it or not, he needs a horse of his own.

“You like Cole well enough,” Sidney cajoles, as Zhenya leans away from the inquiring nose of a massive Clydesdale.

“Only him,” Zhenya retorts.

He cannot be coaxed into more then cautiously patting a few promising animals on their flanks, staying far back as Sidney tries a few of them under saddle. There’s a nice chesnut gelding, but his action is jolting and he makes an unpleasant mount. Sid finds another draft cross like Cole, sturdy enough to carry a man of Zhenya’s height, but he lays his ears back and makes as if to bite Zhenya in the arm, and that is nearly enough to make Zhenya leave the premises altogether.

Sidney has almost given up when Zhenya stops head in his tracks, staring. Sidney follows his gaze and his heart sinks.

There is almost nothing that makes Sidney angrier than a basely used horse, and the poor animal before them has seen the roughest of handling. It’s a big grey mare, with an ugly, course head and a ratty mane and tail all filthy knots. Her ribs stand out like a washboard and her hip bones jut cruelly. She has raw sores from ill-fitting tack and she stands with her head hanging, as if her spirit has been completely crushed.

“That is a travesty,” Sidney says, and starts a little when he looks at his husband to see how deep the fury is that burns in his eyes.

“I-” he looks as if he is struggling to gather his words. When he does, he spits them through clenched teeth “I’m know how that feels.”

He gestures at the emaciated animal, and Sid feels his blood run cold.

“We take her,” Zhenya says, and there’s iron in how he says it. Sidney shakes his head a little. It’s unwise in the extreme, but he can deny Zhenya nothing. And perhaps the poor thing can pass away in comfort at least, safe in their stables.

They approach, and the disreputable scum at the other end of the mare’s lead tries to obsequiously engage them in conversation but Sidney holds up his hand.

“Do not speak to me,” he says, and watches as Zhenya holds out his hand for the horse to sniff.She barely moves. This close, Sidney can see the lines of healed whip marks criss-crossing her back.

Zhenya is murmuring to her in Russian, one hand supporting her head and the other gently stroking her from forehead to muzzle. She takes one tottering step forward and presses her forehead to Zhenya’s chest, then closes her eyes with a sigh. Zhenya presses a kiss to her forelock and looks up at Sidney with watery but flinty eyes.

Sidney nods, and turns to the owner. “You should be in the stocks for this.” He hands him a few coins, and glares when the man makes as if to dispute the amount. “Out of my sight.”

He turns back to Zhenya and says, gentle as he can, “She may not live, my dear.”

Zhenya raises his chin stubbornly. “I did.”

“Zhenya,” Sidney says, sick with the idea of his being, at any point in his life, so ill-used. He cannot help himself, he lays his hand along Zhenya’s beloved face. Zhenya looks solemnly back at him.

“We shall give her the best chance possible,” is all he can promise, and he lets a single stroke of his thumb along Zhenya’s cheek suffice for the gentle kiss he wants to press to Evgeni’s tremulous mouth.

***

The mare is too weak to travel that day. Sidney proposes they take her to the stable of an inn he trusts, to get some good food and clean water inside her and to let her rest for the trip to Ydhyn Dhu.

The ostler at the stables gapes at the scarecrow of an animal they deliver to him. Sidney hands him a generous handful of coins and explains.

“We visited the fair today, and my husband would not leave her to the tender mercies of the reprobate trying to sell her.”

“Oh aye,” the man says, nodding. “My eldest is just like that. Always takin’ in stray mongrels and hurt birds and wee squirrels what have fallen out o’ the nest. A lassie with a soft heart, she is.”

Sidney watches Zhenya coax the mare into lipping at some wisps of hay, murmuring to her in Russian and running his free hand along her bony neck.

“His heart, too. A good man,” he says. “The best.”

“You’re a fortunate one, then, milord, if I may be so bold.”

“I am,” Sidney tells the ostler. “I am.”

***

Sidney is not terribly surprised when Zhenya digs his heels in and doesn’t want to leave the horse behind to return home.

Sidney does not brook any argument, but merely sets their carriage horses up in the stables as well, and sends word back home to expect their return in a day or two.

“Sorry, Sid,” Zhenya tells him, abashed. He’s still fussing over the horse, overseeing the stableboy’s treatment of her sores and making another attempt to untangle the knots in her mane.

“No trouble at all, my dear,” Sidney reassures. “We can get some shopping done and I can meet with our solicitor.” Sidney does not need to meet with his solicitor and there is nothing they presently need to buy, but he supposes he will think of something.

At the very least he can order Evgeni more waistcoats.

***

Another problem presents itself when they speak with the innkeeper. When Sidney inquires into a set of rooms she wrings her apron in her hands and apologizes over and over that she only has the one singular room fine enough for “gentlefolk.”

“Please, do not trouble yourself for a moment,” Sidney says, with an alarmed glance over her head at Zhenya.

Zhenya rescues him with a charming smile for the innkeeper. “I hear man in stables say you have best saffron buns in Truro?”

“Oh, well!” she says, fluttering and blushing as she tells Zhenya that they do their best, what with the price of saffron, keeping good old Cornish traditions is important, et cetera. Zhenya listens attentively, nodding and agreeing with her until her fit of nerves is quite subsided.

“Thank you,” Sidney says as they climb the stairs. Zhenya makes a low, amused laugh that sends a shiver down Sidney’s back.

“Poor Sid,” Zhenya teases. “Scare old ladies. Fancy lord, big inconvenience.”

“Oh, come now,” Sidney protests, with a glance at the maid leading them to their room. But she merely deposits them at the door before curtseying and scurrying away.

Sidney almost stops short in the doorway. The room is plainly furnished but clean, and the singular four poster bed it contains is on the small side. He swallows. In the hubbub of speaking to the innkeeper, he’d forgotten this would most likely be the case.

“Will this be alright?” he asks Zhenya. Zhenya takes a long look at him.

“Alright with you?”

Sidney feels a flash of irritation. Why turn the question back around to himself? But he answers truthfully with, “If you don’t mind, I don’t mind.”

Zhenya just shrugs, and Sid walks into the room with a sigh. It really can’t be helped.

***

They eat supper at the little table and chairs in their room. Zhenya had looked tired around the eyes and Sid had decided to ask for food to be sent up to them instead of eating in the public dining room. The sitting area features a large diamond-paned window overlooking the street. Sidney sits back and watches a lamplighter ply his trade as dusk falls. He glances at Zhenya who looks lost in thought, and considers their kiss at the ball, and the subsequent lack of any and all overtures since.

Sidney wonders sometimes if he embarrassed himself that night, too lovelorn and drunk to control himself. He wonders what will happen now, with the two of them sharing a bed for the first time since their wedding night.

Zhenya, however, seems far away. He picks at his food, and joins Sidney in staring out the window as the town goes to sleep and the light dies in the west.

“What is it?” Sidney asks, the “my love” he’d wanted to add lying tender and unspoken on his tongue. “Is it the mare? Are you worried?”

Sidney watches their burry, disjointed reflections in the window glass, watches Evgeni’s shoulders rise and fall as he sighs deeply and leans back in his chair.

“She’s remind me of a lot of things,” Evgeni says, but doesn’t explain.

***

They undress for bed. Ordinarily Sidney might be beside himself at the sight of Zhenya only in his shirt and smallclothes, the breadth of his shoulders and the vulnerable nape of his neck as he bends to splash his face with water from the ewer on the dressing table. The way the lamplight makes soft shadows in the hollows of his neck and collarbone. The way Sidney wants to press his mouth there.

He does, briefly, think about those things, but he also marks the continued distant expression on Zhenya’s face, and he wishes most of all he could take that look away.

“My dear,” he says, and catches at Zhenya’s sleeve. “Can I do anything for you?”

Zhenya covers Sidney’s hand with his own, but does not look at him. He just tugs him towards the bed, and gets in, sitting up against the pillows, staring at his hands.

Sidney moves about the room, blowing out all the candles save the one burning at the bedside. He pulls down the coverlet on his side of the bed and slides in. And then he waits, watching Zhenya’s face until he feels ready to speak.

“Do you know what крепостной is?” he finally says.

“Krepostnoi…” Sidney tries out the unfamiliar word. “No, I’ve never heard the term before.”

“People who live on land. Belong to land. If land is sold, people sold also. They cannot leave. They have to work or they starve. Sometimes starve anyway. Man who owns land can do anything he want to them.”

Sidney’s blood runs cold. “That sounds like slavery.”

“Almost,” Zhenya says. “My family, we were крепостной.”

He stares off into the dark of the room, and Sidney reaches over to take one of his hands in his own. He hadn’t liked how they looked, laying still and empty on Zhenya’s lap.

“Winters so hard,” Zhenya says, voice rough. “My mama always give us food first. Always tell us she’s not hungry.”

Sidney tightens his grip on Zhenya’s hand. Zhenya has never mentioned his mother before.

“One year, harvest is bad, and snows are so deep after that. Many die. Mama get thinner and thinner and she cough more and more. I’m too small to notice she doesn’t eat, just give food to us. Then one morning, she doesn’t wake up.”

Sidney makes a soft, involuntary sound and brings Zhenya’s hand to his lips to kiss it.

Zhenya continues. “Father die when I’m baby. My brother try to take care of me after mama die, but he’s also young. Hard life makes people hard, too. He has to work in the fields, and when I’m big enough, I do too. I’m always angry, in here.” He bring a fist to the center of his chest. “So angry. But I’m small and I’m young and alone, so I can do nothing. Only kind person is village priest. He’s teach me to read, he’s tell me about other places. About the sea. And I’m think, no one can touch me there. Nothing but water and sky. I can go far, far away.”

Sidney gently kisses Zhenya’s hand again, and Zhenya goes on. “One summer I’m grow and grow. I’m always short before, but I’m get tall very fast. I think the landowner was little bit scared of me. I’m get beaten a lot, maybe I’m talk back, or maybe not, he doesn’t care. Just want me to keep working and not make any trouble. One day, I’m watch him beat a man almost to death. I’m done. I run away that night.”

Zhenya pauses again, and Sidney cannot do anything but stroke his thumb against Zhenya’s hand.

“Best and worst thing I’m ever do. Worst, because I leave my brother. Best, because I am free.” He looks down at Sidney, finally. “She’s remind me of that time, the horse. They use us like that.”

Sidney slides up on the bed, settling in close to Zhenya. He hesitates a moment, then rests his head on Zhenya’s shoulder. To his relief, Zhenya raises his arm to tuck Sidney under it.

“We can look for your brother,” Sidney offers. “Perhaps try writing to the priest?”

“We can?” Zhenya asks, voice small. “And if we find, we buy?”

Sidney shivers in revulsion. “He’d have to be bought? That’s monstr— of course Zhenya. Of course. My god.”

He turns his head, and kisses Zhenya’s chest, right over the heart, as it turns out. “I’m so glad,” he murmurs. “That you’re safe now. That you’re here.” He hesitates a moment, wondering if he’s going too far. But he feels scraped raw by Zhenya’s story and he is tired of pretending he feels less than he does.

“Here, with me,” he adds. Zhenya’s heart beats faster underneath his ear.

“Sid,” Zhenya whispers shakily, followed by a long, liquid fall of Russian, the deep burr of it impossibly sweet to Sid’s ears.

“Люби́мая,” Zhenya croons, as he slides a hand into Sid’s hair. It’s a word Sidney recognizes. He thinks it might be a name, or a term of address.

He wonders dizzily if this— if perhaps— but he feels Zhenya’s hands tremble a little and when he sighs it’s deep and exhausted, not amorous.

“Come here,” Sidney tells him, and arranges the pillows, blankets, and Zhenya to his satisfaction. He curls up behind Zhenya, one arm over his waist, pulling his back into Sid’s chest. “Is this all right?”

He feels Zhenya relax into him, and thread this fingers through Sidney’s. “Thank you, люби́мая,” Zhenya says.

“Sleep,” Sidney tells him. Then, a little nonsensically, “I have you, darling, right here.”

Zhenya drops off to sleep in moments, it seems like. Sidney lies awake for a long, long time, Zhenya in his arms and his heart aching with hope, and with pain.

#Meurgerys #sidgeno #sidney crosby/evgeni malkin #hockey rpf #dana writes a thing

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lady-susan-knows · 5 years

Text

Resolution - Chapter Two

(Read on AO3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/21060050/chapters/50789749)

Chapter Two

The rain pounded against the window, the dismal drizzle hadn’t stopped in the whole week that she had been in London. Dark clouds cast a grey hue over the city that matched Charlotte’s downcast mood. She had tried to be impressed with Lady Denham’s splendid London town house. Tried to muster some of the awe or excitement she knew she would have felt if she’d come here a few months ago but it all fell flat. It took almost every ounce of conscious effort she could muster to summon up a suitable show of excitement for the old lady. It was contrary to her nature, which had always been open and honest but she was careful to keep up a cheerful façade around Lady Denham, she lived in constant fear of the older woman seeing through her and discovering her distress. She could not help but feel that Lady Denham was the last person she would want to know of her woes and so every time the Parkers where mentioned, in the most derogatory of terms, by the lady Charlotte forced her feelings aside and plastered a smile on her face in an attempt to be courteous.

When she had first agreed to come to London it had been her hope that the change of scenery and peace and quiet would help her to overcome the grief of her loss but she had been disappointed on both fronts. The setting of Lady Denham’s stylish London town house could not have been worse. It was situated on Grosvenor Square and every time Charlotte came or went she had the mortification of having to look upon the house of Mrs Maudsley and remember the Masquerade ball which had been in equal parts the most wonderful and most confusing evening of her life.

The peace and quiet she had hoped would help her order her mind and quiet her disappointed hopes had instead left her with far too much time to dwell on them. Lady Denham was still fatigued from her recent brush with illness and had taken up the habit of having a lie down every afternoon which had afforded Charlotte plenty of time to herself and yet she was no closer to closing the wounds that had been opened after the midsummer ball.

As the weeks passed she found that her pain grew worse instead of better. Her love for him seemed to continue to grow instead of diminishing. She tried to occupy herself with reading, sewing and had even attempted some architectural drawings but nothing seemed to be able to hold her attention for more than a few moments, it seemed her melancholy had stolen her productiveness as well as her joy. Every time she spent another miserable afternoon wretchedly reflecting on all that had passed a gnawing doubt at the back of her mind grew louder and more persistent- what if this was it now? What if life without Sidney Parker was destined to be dull and grey and miserable? How did you move on once you had lost the love of your life?

Charlotte shook her head as if doing so would somehow remove such dreary thoughts from her mind. She was grateful that in doing so her attention as caught by the Babington carriage pulling up in the street outside.

The new Lady Babington was expected, Charlotte was to accompany Esther and Lady Denham to visit a Modiste which they had assured Charlotte was the most fashionable in London and located on Oxford Street just a short journey from Lady Denham’s. Charlotte felt sure they would be able to walk it but was informed that they would driving, and had to admit that although she was usually fond of walking the weather did make a carriage preferable.

Charlotte was soon settled into Lady Babington’s stylish Town Coach. She was sat on one side next to Esther and Lady Denham sat opposite. The conversation between aunt and niece had been revolving around the fact that Lord Babington had ordered his new bride a stylish Curricle and matching pair of horses as she had shown an inclination to enjoy driving his own similar vehicle. He had commissioned it to be ready for the start of the London Season in January. Esther had made the mistake of mentioning that she meant to drive herself around London in it and her aunt had been voicing her disapproval of the scheme. The conversation had begun shortly after Esther’s arrive at Grosvenor square and Lady Denham seemed in no mood to drop it now that the coach they were in began to sway into motion. Charlotte therefore settled herself down to look out the window at the sights on their short journey- the London traffic slowing them down and affording her good view.

She was most surprised to find herself called into the conversation shortly after they had set off.

“And what say you Miss Heywood, to Esther’s grand scheme of driving herself around for all to see.”

“I see no harm in it,” Charlotte said with a smile. “Lord Babington clearly does not mind or he would not have brought it for her.”

“Lord Babington is in love, and all men in love are fools.” The older woman replied.

“Really aunt.” Esther said with a sigh.

“Don’t you roll your eyes at me because you are the one who benefits from it! If you remain sensible and do not allow yourself to be made a fool of by loving him in return you will have power over your husband for the rest of your days.”

Esther ignored her aunt and turned her attention to the raindrops that were tapping against the window as if they were the most interesting thing in the world. Charlotte stared at her in confusion, she had been present at the Babington’s wedding, had seen the smiles, the kisses, the beaming bride and joyful groom. She’d nursed her own deep jealousy along with her happiness for Esther. She’d spent the whole day feeling like it should have been her as well as Esther in the bridal veil, she had been certain she’d seen the same love on Esther’s face that she had felt in her own heart, surely Lady Denham couldn’t mean that Esther did not love her husband.

“Forgive me,” Charlotte said unable to stop herself. “Surely you love Lord Babington, why else would you marry him?”

“Ah ha,” Lady Denham laughed. “See, this is why I brought you to London Miss Heywood. You are always so forward with your opinions. Now, Esther, you have shocked your romantic young friend, how do you answer her?”

“Love has very little to do with a successful marriage Miss Heywood,” said Esther in a bored voice. “It was my dear aunt that taught me that.”

Charlotte sat forward a response in defence of love all but ready to spring from her lips but then her own disappointment came rushing back into her mind and the words died on her tongue and she sat back deflated.

“Well Miss Heywood, you had something to say?” Lady Denham questioned.

Charlotte thought of her parents, who were very much in love and on whom Charlotte had based most of her opinions and hopes of what a marriage should be.

“I had always thought that love was the very foundation of a successful marriage.” Charlotte said more to herself than the others.

Lady Denham answered her none the less.

“Marriage is a business arrangement, especially for girls without fortune such as yourself or Esther before she married.”

“But to marry without love…” Charlotte began.

“I know your thoughts on a marriage without love very well Miss Heywood.” Lady Denham cut in. “In case you remember you told me them most forcefully at my luncheon. You said it would be a kind of slavery.”

Sidney’s parting words flashed through her mind.

“I do not love her you know.”

Charlotte felt an ache in her chest, had he doomed himself to a life of slavery to save his brother. But no, she reminded herself, he’d loved Eliza before and he would love her again. There had been enough affection there for him decide marrying her was a viable option. It was only Charlotte who was truly doomed to a life without love.

“Anyway I never said there could be no love,” Lady Denham continued sharply. “Love is essential. Only do not let yourself fall in love only the man. Any young girl of little or no fortune who gives her heart to a man before marriage will inevitably have it broken- it is infinitely better to be loved than to love, ask Esther.”

Charlotte’s heart gave a squeeze of agony, if only someone had told her this sooner she thought, maybe then she would not have been so naive.

“Poor Charlotte,” said Esther with a dry smile. “It seems my aunt has made you her new project, do be careful that she doesn’t start writing to young men for you and keep an eye out for her list of potential husbands, no doubt she will have it drawn up somewhere.”

“Nonsense, I mean only to advise. My advice, as you know, is excellent.”

Charlotte was relieved to feel the coach rolling to a stop, distracting the two other ladies from a conversation that had taken a turn that made her feel ill at ease.

A footman opened the door for them and held out an umbrella. Charlotte was admittedly quite interested to see what a London Modiste was like. She imagined it to be a world away from the simple dress makers that she had frequented in Willingden and Sanditon.

The rain meant they had to hasten inside, she had only time to note that it had a simple exterior with a beautiful display of bonnets in the window and that the sign above the door read Mrs Bell’s before they were inside.

It was the Mrs Bell herself that greeted them as they entered. She made a great fuss over Lady Denham and Esther and was polite to Charlotte. She saw the younger to women seated on an overstuffed settee and sent one of her assistants to get the some tea whilst she ushered Lady Denham into the back to have the dresses she had ordered fitted.

The tea arrived and Charlotte busied herself in pouring two cups. Her companion was not the sort of girl with whom one felt they could naturally confide. She always seemed so indifferent and almost unfriendly. But Charlotte’s interest had been sparked by the conversation on the way here and she could not help wondering over and over whether Esther truly could have meant she was happily married and yet not in love with her husband.

“Lady Babington, I must ask.” She said, unable to hold her curiosity in no longer.

“You may call me Esther if you wish.” The invitation to use her first name was made in a way that was unique to Esther, she could say something that should show an increased intimacy between the two of them and yet it almost sounded like an insult.

“Esther,” Charlotte continued. “I don’t mean to pry only, you seem so happy. Surely you cannot mean what you said before.”

“Do I seem happy?”

“Yes, at least at your wedding you seemed to be.”

“I was.”

The simple statement left Charlotte confused and she frowned as she tried to get her mind around it.

“Surely that means that you must love your husband?”

“Has it ever occurred to you that love does not always equal happiness? In fact it may very well cause the completed opposite.”

Charlotte felt a heat rise in her cheeks as Esther’s words struck a chord with her that she could not deny. Love had caused her, with the exception of a very few moments nothing but grief and heart ache. She busied herself with drinking her tea and hoped that Esther wouldn’t notice.

“I have been in love Charlotte and I found it most disagreeable. I can assure you that I have found far greater happiness in my loveless marriage than I ever did in love.”

“But what of Lord Babington?” Charlotte asked as she tried to make sense of what she was being told.

“He is not a fool. He knows I do not love him. Our marriage is entirely without pretence. He is happy to be in love with me and I am happy to be loved.” Esther leaned forward and fixed Charlotte with a stare that seemed piece right through her. “Do not pin all your hopes on love Charlotte, it will inevitably fail you and we young women must find a way to live without it.”

It was all that Charlotte could do to stop herself from squirming in her seat at the scrutiny. She knew Lord Babington and Sidney where friends, perhaps Esther knew what had happened between them. She was most grateful that the return of Lady Denham meant that it was now Esther’s turn to go with Miss Bell and have her dresses fitted. Charlotte was left attempting to pay attention to Lady Denham’s chatter whilst trying to calm the whirl pool of thoughts in her own head.

Esther returned in due course and Charlotte assuming they were about to leave stood up and began to place her bonnet back on her head.

“What is the rush Miss Heywood? It is your turn now.” Lady Denham said.

Charlotte felt herself flush to the roots of her hair.

“This shop and these dresses are beautiful. However I have no need of new clothes at the moment and if I did I am afraid this shop would be out of my price range.”

“I had no expectation that you would pay.” Lady Denham looked unamused.

“I could not accept such a gift.”

“It would not be a gift, I abhor charity. I ordered some dresses a few months back for myself and Clara’s winter wardrobe. I forgot to cancel them and since they have already been sewn together they may as well be altered to fit you. I detest waste.”

Charlotte could tell that Lady Denham would not allow her to argue and so she bobbed a courtesy and allowed herself to be shown into the shops inner rooms.

Mrs Bell ushered her into a curtained room and asked her to stand up on a small stool that stood in front of three large mirrors positioned in a semi-circle.

“You’re not quite as well look as Miss Brereton.” Mrs Bell muttered as she began fussing around Charlotte with her tape measure. “Your figure is not fashionable, and the ladies of London will say you are too tanned.”

Charlotte looked at her reflection in the mirror and frowned. She had never been overly bothered with her looks, she liked a pretty dress as much as the next girl and she had been insulted about her unfashionable appearance before so why did it seem to hurt her now?

Was it because she feared that might have been part of the reason it had been so easy for Sidney to reject her. He was so very handsome she had scarcely dared to believe he could have returned her affections. But he had kissed her, on that glorious morning when they had walked along the cliffs and she had been so perfectly happy, he must have thought her pretty then, at least a little. But he had pulled away she remembered, even as she herself had tried to search for his lips again. He had never tried to kiss her in such away again, although there had been opportunity. Maybe she had been bad at it? Could it be, she wondered as she stared at her face, that if she looked more like Eliza she could have kept him, that he would not have been able to bare to part with her no matter how bad the circumstances. His love for her had not been enough for him to find some other way to save his brother. Perhaps he had not really loved her at all and was even now toasting to his lucky escape with Mrs Campion. What if she was the only fool who had allowed herself to be so fully in love? Her heart ached

“Oh Miss I am sorry, I meant no offense. Your looks are not fashionable but they are very fine. It is only ladies and dandies that worry about fashionable looks anyway. Anyone with eyes cannot deny that you have your own beauty.” Mrs Bell said patting Charlotte’s shoulder in a motherly way.

Charlotte realised that she had tears rolling down her face.

“I do beg your pardon.” Charlotte said swiping them away with a weak smile. “It was not you it was just…I just realised something that is all.”

“Something that makes you sad?”

“Yes, but I shall try to be happier.”

Esther was right, love brought nothing but pain and she could not stop herself from loving Sidney Parker any more than she could stop her heart from beating. She would have to try and find a way to live around the permanent ache and hope that she too could find a way to be happy without love.

~~~

A short while later the three ladies exited the shop, unknown to them a pair of unfriendly eyes had been watching for them. The Babington coat of arms on the door of the town coach had alerted Sir Edward that his recently married sister must be nearby. His invitation must have gotten lost in the post he thought with a sardonic smile. His smile grew wider as he saw his dear Aunt was with her, she must have recovered enough to travel to London, this was convenient indeed. He almost turned away, keen not to be spotted when he noticed Charlotte. Well, he thought, this would make things interesting.

#Sanditon #sanditon fan fic #Sanditon fanfiction #my writing #resolution #Sidney x charlotte #charlotte x sidney #charlotte heywood #lady denham #esther denham #esther babington

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madphantom · 5 years

Text

The Sound of Life - Chapter 12

And so it happened that Winslow and Phoenix were finally invited to the Music Industry Winter's Ball, along with every musician that was considered a living legend. Winslow was crazed. Phoenix was planning her outfit. They both arrived in black because they were just that Goth.

They had just gotten themselves something to eat when somebody new entered.

"The Sorrows, Ladies and Gentlemen!", the newcomers were announced. Winslow turned around in interesting to take a look at them.

Sidney August was a pale Irish Redhead. John Samuel Sobek was short, thin, Canadian and had platinum blonde hair. And Juan Miguel was a Mexican with Emo bangs and piercing grey eyes. They looked ridiculous. Phoenix suppressed a chuckle. "Alright, Imma head out and question our concurrents."

"Have fun." Winslow smirked.

She laughed. "Ooh darling, I will." And disappeared in the crowd.

Somebody tapped Winslow's shoulder and he turned around. Behind him was a petite young man with light brown skin and black curls. He was smiling shyly. Winslow recognized him immediately. "Michael Jackson, right?"

The young star nodded. "Hi. You're Winslow Leach, am I correct?"

"Yep. I have your first solo album. Really good. I loved She's out of my Life and Don't stop til you get enough so much."

"Haha, thanks." Jackson blushed a little. "I had a lot of help. I'm a huge fan of yours, by the way."

"Thank you."

"I was wondering whether maybe we could collaborate some day." Jackson looked increasingly nervous.

Winslow smiled. "That sounds like a wonderful idea! I'd love to."

Jackson handed him a little note. "My number," he explained shyly. "I know, I'm younger than you, but I've been in this business for a longer time. It can be quite rough at times. If you need help just call me."

"Thanks," Winslow replied and put the note in his pocket. "I will."

Jackson gave him a shy smile, then Paul McCartney popped up next to him. "Mike, c'mon, you gotta meet Prince!"

"I know him already...!"

"Publicity, kid." McCartney pat the young man's shoulder. He gave Winslow a nod. "Winslow Leach, am I correct? I heard your last single on the radio. Good stuff. If your next one is just as good you'll probably have a splendid career in front of you."

Winslow smiled. "Thank you, Mr McCartney. Big fan of yours, by the way."

"Thanks. Mike, don't run away!" He caught the young man by the sleeve and pulled him along. "It was nice to meet you, Leach."

"Same."

"Winslow Leach?"

He turned around to see a tall man with long red hair and reddish eyes. "Yes?"

The man bowed in an old-fashioned way. "What an honour to meet you. I am Loki Lilson. You may have heard of me."

"I may have."

Lilson smiled, revealing a row of perfect white teeth. Winslow felt slightly attacked. His tongue wandered over his own metal teeth. Well, at least they wouldn't break off if he got into a fistfight.

Lilson was taller than Winslow.

"I've heard your first single," he said. "The Hell of it. Interesting title. Any experience with hell?"

Winslow laughed. "Yeah, could be called that."

Lilson smirked. "Oh yes, I forgot. Your little adventure with Swan." He sighed. "Swan as a person may have been a genius, but his music...confidentially, it was horrible. The man had no taste."

Something in Lilson made Winslow want to run away and hide. There was a cold aura around the man, filling the air with frost.

Suddenly Phoenix appeared by Winslow's side. "Hey, Winsy, you wanna dance?"

She glared at Lilson.

"Sure," he said and gave Lilson a nod. Then he followed.

"Phoenix, it's a terrible confession but I can't dance," he whispered halfway to the dance floor.

"Me neither," she whispered back. "I just wanted to get you away from that guy. He was... creepy."

"You thought so too?!"

"Yeah. I don't know, I felt so cold around him."

"So did I."

"Let's go and get ourselves some food. Also... have you seen Harold's partner?"

"No. Who is it?"

"You won't believe it." Phoenix led him to the buffet where he spotted Harold with a short frail girl with black curls and a Gothic black dress. It was only when she turned around that he recognized her. "Ellie?"

She grinned. "Eyoo, bro."

Harold blushed a little. "I hope you don't mind, Winslow..."

"No, no, of course not! Where's Sandy then?"

"Having the slow dance with Archie."

"Oh my gosh."

Phoenix laughed. "You know what?", she finally said. "I need some fresh air. Let's get our asses outside."

Literally the second they were outside Phoenix realized she'd forgotten her coat and hurried back in, leaving Winslow alone outside. He was looking for Orion among the stars when he heard a familiar voice.

"Mr Leach."

Winslow turned around to find Lilson standing there, with a smile on his face. "Hi."

"I've been looking for you. Where's Mrs Leach?"

"She went back in to get her coat. Should be back any minute." Please hurry, Winslow thought.

Lilson smirked. "Ah, yes. The cold. It's quite a surprise how cold a Winter's night can be here in the city." He walked over to Winslow. "We didn't finish our talk twenty minutes ago."

"Right. The talk. Uhm...what was it about again?"

Lilson laughed a little. "Oh, right. Forgive me. I have a little offer. A deal."

"I'm listening."

"I know that our singles were both treated as hits." Lilson smirked again. "Most tabloids are already wondering whether we'd team up or become bitter enemies."

"So?"

"What I'm offering is: We leave each other in peace. No collaboration, we're way too different for that. But no rivalry either."

Winslow raised an eyebrow. "Scared a rivalry might be bad for your business?"

Lilson chuckled. "Oh, no no no. My business is in safe hands. No, I just want to save us some nerves. Think about it - no negative comments in interviews and everything's alright."

Winslow smirked. "I'm tempted, Mr Lilson, but I'm worried you won't keep your word."

Lilson raised his eyebrows. "Oh dear. I guess you know me too well then."

"No, actually I just have some experience with people not keeping their word."

Lilson smiled. "Oh, yes. Swan."

Phoenix appeared behind him.

"Why the fuck is he here?!", she signed.

"Help, get me out," Winslow signed back while saying: "You're absolutely right, Mr Lilson."

Phoenix hurried to his side and faked a laugh. "Oh dear, Winslow, I've been looking for you everywhere!" She was about to say something else when suddenly Winslow heard a ticking noise in the bushes.

"Get down!", he yelled and pushed Phoenix away.

The garden exploded.

Instinctively Winslow grabbed Phoenix and covered her. He felt the heat on his back. The light of the explosion illuminated everything for a terrifying second, then it was over.

"Oh my God, what was that?", Phoenix whispered.

"I don't know," Winslow replied shakily. "Are you okay?"

"Ye."

"Good." Winslow turned around. The garden was destroyed. A cloud of smoke was floating above the burned grass. A bomb, he realized.

"Oh my God!" Michael Jackson appeared next to them. "The explosion was right next to Loki Lilson! That must have killed him!" Jackson was pale and shocked. For a treehugger kind of person like him this had to be a horror.

Somebody appeared in the smoke. A person was walking towards them. They flinched.

And suddenly Lilson stepped out of the smoke, perfectly unharmed, not even a burn mark on his suit.

Phoenix' eyes widened. "But... I...I saw the explosion...Mr Lilson, you were right next to it!"

"Nonsense," he snarled. "I wasn't. What are you waiting for? Contact the police!"

As it turned out, the bomb had been laid by some anarchist who was protesting against the luxury of the ball. He was arrested and the cops drove off. Winslow and Phoenix left.

"He was right next to the bomb," Phoenix said in the car. "I saw it. He was standing in the middle of the flames and yet nothing happened to him. How is that possible?"

"I don't know," Winslow replied.

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hysterialevi · 5 years

Text

When the Devil Cries pt. 14

Author’s note: Just wanted to say a quick thanks for all the support you guys have been giving this story. It’s really great to know you’re enjoying this fic, and the messages you’ve been sending me have all been super encouraging. So thank you guys for taking the time to read this, and I hope you continue to enjoy it :)

From Arthur’s POV

THAT NIGHT

SMITHFIELD’S SALOON, VALENTINE

Well, we were finally here. After what felt like an eternity of chasing them Arlington Twins, and ridin’ from Lemoyne all the way to New Hanover, Eddie and I had reached Valentine at last.

The town seemed to be the same as usual -- sheep shit and all -- and it was actually kinda quiet due to most of the people being asleep right now. But o’ course, the saloon was rowdy as always, and it stood out like a goddamned beacon in the darkness of the night. How anyone got a wink of sleep in this place with all the constant ruckus was beyond me.

I just hoped that nobody would recognize me from the last time I was here. I still hadn’t lived down the fight I had with Big Tommy, and I certainly didn’t wanna renew my status as the town brawler. But perhaps, with Eddie by my side, I would actually manage to be somewhat civilized tonight. ...But that was just wishful thinkin’ on my part.

Approaching the front of the saloon with Eddie in tow, the two of us climbed the muddy steps as I showed the pianist inside, already able to hear the mayhem occurring on the other side of the wall. This was gonna make one hell of a first impression on the boy.

“Welcome to Smithfield’s,” I told Eddie, pushing through the swinging doors as the smell of alcohol slapped us in the face. “What d’you think?”

The boy gazed around for a moment, his line of sight mainly sticking to the piano as he took in the environment.

There was drunken fellers stumblin’ around all over the place, workin’ girls trying to seduce any of the cowboys that passed ‘em by, and an entire circle of men sat down at the Poker table, mindlessly throwing their money away.

Normally, I woulda hated how packed it was in here -- and I could only imagine how Eddie must’ve felt, seein’ as how he was new to this place -- but I actually found a strange sense of comfort in the casually chaotic mood of this saloon.

Somethin’ about being around people who were on the verge of knocking each other’s teeth out but also treatin’ one another as if they’d known them their whole lives just...made me feel at home, I supposed.

Huh. I wondered what that said about my home.

“It’s a lot different from the one in Saint Denis.” He remarked, clearly feeling a bit outta place. I let out a laugh.

“Heh. Sure is,” I joked. “You can actually enjoy yourself in this one. C’mon. I’ll buy you a drink.”

Wandering over to the bar, Eddie and I squeezed through crowds of people as they all knocked back shots of whiskey and tripped over themselves tryin’ to find the exit, slurring random nonsense to no one in particular.

“Woo!” One man shouted, wobbling his way across the saloon as he struggled to keep his eyes open. “...I feel it now!”

Meanwhile, a nearby working girl found herself unable to look away from Eddie as an alluring grin spread across her face, her gaze following his every move.

“Hey there handsome,” she greeted. “Lookin’ for some fun?”

The pianist politely refused, suddenly sticking a lot closer to me than I think he realized. Fortunately though, we reached the bar before anyone else could approach us.

I slid a couple of coins across the counter, getting the bartender’s attention.

“Two beers.” I ordered.

The bartender reached below and grabbed two bottles, popping off their caps with a soft hiss before giving them to me.

“Here. This’ll shoo away your worries for a while.”

Handing one of ‘em to Eddie, I raised mine and gave a brief toast, smiling at the boy.

“To your health.”

The pianist returned the smile, his expression glowing in the warm lighting of the saloon.

“Thank you.”

We clinked our bottles together and took a generous swig, enjoying this short moment of peace while people came pourin’ in and out of the bar. By now, there was plenty of cowpokes passed out on the tables scattered around the saloon, and the ones who were still standin’ were either playing cards, flirting with the women, or too busy regretting their life choices.

There was even one man in particular at the end of the bar who was whining quite loudly to himself as he gave the bartender an earful about his life, his words all slurred and exaggerated due to the alcohol.

Well, I was just glad that someone else was causin’ the scene this time.

“You know,” Eddie thought out loud, bringing me back to reality, “...it’s hard to believe that this is all real.”

I took another sip, peering at him in curiosity. “What you mean?”

The boy leaned on the bar, his elbows resting on its surface as he blankly stared ahead.

“It’s just difficult to grasp the fact that, a couple weeks ago, I was nothing but a pianist with his head in the clouds...scraping to get by in that dreadful city. My only concerns were earning money, and putting on a good show for the people of Saint Denis. I didn’t know a damn thing about living in the wilds, or shooting guns, or hunting -- I was clueless.”

Eddie threw a loving smirk in my direction, his green eyes twinkling daringly.

“But now,” he continued, “here I am. Out in the open, chasing bounties, riding across this beautiful country...with someone I never expected to be my friend.”

I let out a chuckle, lookin’ down my beer bottle.

“Well, if it’s any consolation, I’m a much worse enemy.”

Eddie chortled. “I didn’t mean it like that, you fool. I’m glad to be with you. I mean, I know our situation’s actually quite dire, but...it could be worse. One of us could’ve died at that gala -- or even both of us -- and yet, here we are. We made it. We’re surviving.”

I nodded, raising my bottle to that. “That we are. And we ain’t stopping.”

The pianist took a sip of his own beer, his gaze suddenly flicking over to the Poker table in the corner of the saloon. It looked like two of the seats had just been opened, and judging by the pile of chips sittin’ in the center, the game was at its peak now.

Eddie gave me a hesitant glance, his face covered in excitement.

“Could we...play a few rounds?”

I raised a brow out of surprise, instantly doing a double take. I had to admit: Eddie didn’t seem like the type o’ feller to enjoy gambling.

“...You play Poker?” I asked.

He shrugged shyly, smiling at me. “A little.”

A WHILE LATER

Eddie laid out his cards on the table, presenting a full house as a simultaneous groan of defeat emitted from the other players.

I tossed my hand back to the dealer, muttering under my breath.

“...A little, my ass.”

The dealer stacked the cards back together, passing them over to the next person as Eddie gathered his prize and proudly added it to his collection of chips. I guessed this pianist weren’t as “clueless” as he claimed.

“Whoo...!” one of the players breathed out -- Sidney, I think his name was -- as he leaned back in his chair. “You are one lucky son of a gun. ...Who are you, anyway? I ain’t never seen you ‘round Valentine before.”

The boy slipped his cards into his hands, his expression remaining completely neutral.

“My name’s Nathaniel,” he replied. “Just passing through with my friend here. We don’t plan to stay for long.”

Another guy called Lewis let out a sigh. “Well, I hope you fellas didn’t come here for the gunsmith.”

I threw in my blind. “Why’s that?”

“There was quite a line outside the store earlier today,” he explained, shuffling the cards. “Looks like a lotta people are stockin’ up on guns and ammo recently. Picked the place clean. Not much left.”

“That so?” I asked.

He nodded. “That’s so.”

Sidney jumped back in. “It makes sense, though. You been payin’ attention to the news lately? There’s a string of robberies going across the country right now. Not to mention that hellish gunfight that happened in Saint Denis a few days ago. Accordin’ to the paper boy, loads of people was killed in that shootout. And the ones who survived was robbed of all their money. The law’s on high alert now.”

Eddie’s head perked up in interest at that, and he eyed Sidney with a suspicious glare. “That so?”

Sidney casually nodded back. “...That’s so.”

“Well,” Lewis began dealing the cards, “all I know is I’m glad to be out here and not in the city. Too many rules and regulations in places like that. That’s why common criminals thrive there. Easier to evade written laws than a bullet. Pull somethin’ like that in Valentine though, and Sheriff Mallory will shoot you down. As will the rest of us.”

Sidney took a peek at his cards, tossing in his bet. “I’m hopin’ it don’t ever come to that. Valentine’s a peaceful enough town. Folk work hard here. We live honest lives. Last thing we need’s some outlaws muckin’ that up for us.”

I subtly tilted the rim of my hat down and focused entirely on my hand, suddenly feelin’ as if I was wearing my wanted poster on my goddamned face.

It looked like I had pocket aces. Not a bad start.

I called, placing some of my chips in the middle of the table.

“So...” Lewis continued, taking his turn, “what’re y’all two doing here anyway? Your friend said you ain’t staying here long. You got a destination?”

“Plannin’ to head up north,” I lied. “Try and find some work in Van Horn or Annesburg.”

“Well good luck,” he wished as Eddie took his turn. “I know it’s hard to find a stable job these days. Or a job at all. Annesburg’s a good place to start if you don’t mind breathin’ out coal dust. As for Van Horn, I hear there ain’t really much out there, ‘cept for a saloon that attracts travelers of all types.”

I threw in another bet. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Lewis placed his hand down and laid out three community cards, revealing a pair of eight’s and a jack.

“...Shit.” Sidney murmured, folding upon seeing them.

“You really are an unlucky bastard, ain’t you?” Lewis remarked, earning a glare from the other man.

“Hey, keep your thoughts to yoursel--”

Interrupting the game, a new patron suddenly marched into the saloon with a blatant shove as he prowled through the swinging doors, causing everyone’s heads to turn before falling silent.

The man was considerably well-dressed compared to the other folk in this town and wore a stark-black suit along with a Paragon Town hat, his face mostly covered by its looming shadow.

And as if he wasn’t intimidating enough, there was also a trio of men following behind him, all of ‘em armed and clearly lookin’ for trouble. Shit. Who were these jokers?

Coming to a halt, the man in the front took a moment to scan the saloon like a hawk as he observed every single person’s face, obviously searching for someone.

There was a certain air to him that seemed familiar to me, and I couldn’t help but feel like I’d seen this man before...but where? This man weren’t no enemy of mine. And he definitely weren’t no friend. So who the hell was I lookin’ at?

I squinted my eyes, examining his features closely.

He had a squarish face accompanied by a permanent scowl, a structured nose that had evidently been broken before, a deep, cleft chin, and there was a prominent scar weighing down the right side of his mouth, forcing it into a frown.

I paused, a pang of realization suddenly hitting me.

That was Archibald Hill. The other bounty I saw at the sheriff’s office in Rhodes. Apparently, he was one of them Lemoyne Raiders. What the hell was he doin’ in Valentine?

Hill’s stern gaze landed on me, and his entire body turned in my direction.

He took a few steps forward, the men behind him following his every move.

“You there.” Archibald called out, his low voice booming across the saloon.

I casually glanced around, confused about the whole situation before addressing him.

“...Do I know you?” I asked.

“No,” Hill answered, sauntering towards me, “and I don’t know you either. ...But I know what you done. You the bounty hunter turned them Arlington Twins in. Ain’t you.”

I silently scoffed to myself. Shoulda guessed he was workin’ with that pair. I supposed it only made sense though, considering they was both robbing folks in Lemoyne’s countryside. I just never expected outlaws to cooperate. Usually, gunfire was the only type of communication we used.

I remained in my seat and simply paid the man no mind, not wanting to spark any sort of conflict just yet.

“I ain’t got no clue what you talkin’ about.” I denied. But Archibald didn’t buy it.

“Oh, I think you do,” he countered. “Thanks to your efforts, Minnie and Jesse are now swingin’ on display for all of Rhodes to see, and the crows have already made quite a feast out of ‘em. All for a hundred bucks.”

The men behind Archibald subtly unholstered their pistols, getting ready for a fight. Goddammit. I guessed peace was no longer an option.

I stood up from my chair and confronted the Lemoyne Raider, casually lighting a cigarette.

“...I think you should leave, partner.” I quietly warned, staring him down as I struck a match.

Archibald didn’t move a single muscle.

“Neither of us is goin’ anywhere, cowboy,” he taunted. “Especially not after what you’ve done. See, that train you prevented the Arlingtons from robbing -- it was carrying a whole lotta valuables. Valuables...belonging to me.”

I scoffed in amusement. “You mean valuables that you was gonna steal.”

Hill reached down and swatted the flaps of his coat to the side, revealing an impressive gunbelt as he rested a hand on the grip of his revolver.

“Yes,” he growled, his glare piercing through me. “...Because I take what’s mine.”

Glancing back at Eddie, I let out an annoyed sigh and loosely shook my head, putting out the cigarette underneath my boot as I thought about what to do next.

“Well...” I said with an innocent shrug, “...I don’t.”

Whipping out my revolver, I instantly fired a bullet directly into the center of Archibald’s forehead and killed the man on the spot, causing the outlaw’s mouth to drop open as he froze.

There was a narrow stream of blood now leaking out of his bullet wound, and with every second he spent standing there, the more the other patrons in the saloon appeared to nail their eyes onto him, morbidly intrigued by the sudden shooting.

Archibald’s body slowly began to tilt, and he finally collapsed to the floor with a heavy thud as the entire bar fell silent.

“...H-Holy shit...!” One of Hill’s men exclaimed out of shock, fumbling for their pistol. “You...you son-of-a-bitch!”

Before they even had a chance to aim however, Eddie had already shot their pistol straight outta their grasp with a dead-eye’s accuracy and stepped to my side, leading the other two men to reach for their own guns.

Just as they prepared their weapons though, I immediately cocked my revolver at the hip and fired two extra bullets into their heads, sending them tumblin’ backwards like a pair of toppling towers.

The last remaining raider threw his hands in the air, paralyzed by the barrels of our firearms.

“Ain’t often a man lingers ‘round his own grave,” I threatened him. “You sure you wanna stay, boy?”

Eddie pulled the hammer down on his Schofield, prepared to shoot at a moment’s notice.

Taking a moment to steadily back away from us and get his bearings, the raider visibly gulped and hurriedly broke into a sprint before fleeing the saloon, leaving me and Eddie alone as we stared at Archibald’s corpse in unison.

I put my revolver away and bent down, hoisting the outlaw’s body over my shoulder.

“What are you doing?” Eddie questioned, his gaze followin’ me as I exited the building.

“Gettin’ us an extra seventy-five dollars,” I replied. “You coming?”

The boy hesitated for a minute and looked around the bar in a baffled manner, quickly taggin’ along once he snatched Hill’s gun for himself. Heh. It looked like he was startin’ to pick up my habits. Wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing, to be honest.

I took one last glance at the bartender before walkin’ through the doors, earning a neutral response from him.

“Don’t worry,” he reassured, holding his hands up. “I saw the whole thing. You had no choice. You had to use your equalizer.”

I nodded thankfully. “Appreciate it. Well, I’ll, ah...let Mallory know ‘bout the rest of the bodies decorating this here establishment. In the meantime, I think it’s best if I get as far away as possible from here. Good day.”

MIDNIGHT

OUTSIDE THE SHERIFF’S OFFICE

Strolling out of the office with a brand new clip of cash in hand, I stepped down the short stairs and counted the money, deciding how to split it between me and Eddie while the boy waited by the hitching post.

I couldn’t lie -- ever since that Poker game, the musician’s behavior had been a bit more dour than usual, and it almost seemed like he was angry at me.

Was he upset ‘cause I shot all those men? Did he not want me to do it? I mean, it wouldn’t have been the first time he’d seen me kill someone, and I doubted it’d be the last...but right now, Eddie was actin’ strange. I just had no clue why.

“...Eddie?” I said, approaching the boy. At the moment, he was examining the gun he took from Archibald and mindlessly playin’ with its empty cylinder, flicking it in and out of place.

He stopped at the sound of his name and silently acknowledged me, his expression riddled with a sense of betrayal. What was goin’ on?

“Eddie,” I repeated. “Everything alright?”

The pianist aimlessly stared at the muddy ground, his brow furrowed in deep concentration. He was clearly thinkin’ about something big, and the longer he went without saying anything, the less I wanted to hear it.

Eddie took a deep breath, keeping himself calm.

“During the Poker game,” he recalled, “Sidney said something about the gala in Saint Denis. Said that everyone there was either killed or robbed.”

I stepped in front of the boy, trying to get him to look at me.

“Yeah, he did. What of it?”

Eddie glared at me, coming to a conclusion. “That’s the second time a place I’ve brought you to has been robbed.”

My heart stopped in my chest. What was he implying?

“Eddie...” I whispered, “...what...what’re you saying?”

He let out a heartbroken sigh, clenching his jaw in anger.

“I know I can be naive,” he fired back, “but I’m not stupid, Arthur. You said it yourself -- you’ve committed crimes in the past. So why is it that everywhere I take you to ends up being robbed? First, it was the theater. Then, it was the gala...”

Eddie’s eyes turned glossy with tears. “...Have you been using me, Arthur? Do you even consider me to be an actual friend? Or a lover? Am I nothing but a key to you? A way to open doors that you would otherwise have to break down? What is going on, Arthur? If that’s even your real name.”

I ended up being at a loss for words, not only disgusted with myself for hurting Eddie like this, but also frightened now that he had figured out the truth.

Goddammit, you absolute moron. I scolded myself.

I knew I should’ve told him sooner. I knew I should’ve confessed, and I knew I couldn’t keep this secret forever. But like the snake I was, I cowered away from every chance I got and only strung him along even further, completely taking advantage of the boy.

What the hell was wrong with me?

Out of instinct, I placed a comforting hand on the pianist’s shoulder, only to be swatted away.

Christ. I had really gone and screwed it up this time, hadn’t I.

“Eddie,” I said in a soothing tone, stumbling over my own words, “...listen. You...you got me. Okay? You’re right. The truth is...I am an outlaw. I have been for most of my life. And...I did rob the theater. In fact, the man you was holdin’ at gunpoint backstage...”

Eddie’s head perked up in remembrance, and he let out a shaky breath.

“...That was you?” He asked.

I nodded stiffly, both reluctant and eager to get the truth out in the open.

“Yes,” I confirmed. “And those men I brought with me to the gala -- Kilgore and O’Malley -- they’re outlaws, too. They been at this even longer than I have. I weren’t lyin’ when I said they raised me.”

I gently reached for Eddie’s hand, desperately trying to climb outta this hole I’d dug.

“Look...maybe I should just start from the beginning.”

I led the musician to a nearby bench and sat down beside him, still holdin’ on to his hand as I thought about how on Earth I was gonna explain this mess to the boy.

I knew it was probably stupid to tell this to someone who weren’t even part of the gang -- and I had no doubts Dutch would be outraged if he learned about this -- but after all the bullshit I had put Eddie through, I figured he deserved to know the truth. Even if it wasn’t safe for him to know.

I braced myself for his reaction, deciding to open up about all my secrets.

“...I’m part of a gang, Eddie,” I started off. “The Van der Linde gang. I’ve been ridin’ with them for over twenty years now. Ever since I was a boy. In fact, I was actually the first one they ‘recruited.’ Back then though, we weren’t even considered a gang. It was just Dutch and Hosea, tryin’ to raise this unruly orphan they’d picked up from the streets. You know them as Tacitus and Aiden.”

The boy seemed less agitated now and listened to my story intently, willing to hear me out.

“Go on.” He urged.

“Well...” I continued, “our gang arrived at Saint Denis not too long before I met you. Dutch already had ideas brewin’ about the theater and the bank by then, and the gala was something I discovered on my own. Originally, we planned to just slip in and outta the city before anyone could even figure out who we were, or what happened...but then...I met you.”

Eddie paused. “Wait...so you didn’t befriend me for the sake of the robberies?”

“No. You were never part of our plans, and I never meant to drag you into this nightmare. I didn’t even know you was involved with the theater or the gala. You were just someone I liked bein’ around...no matter how foolish it may’ve been. I truly do care about you, Eddie. More than I probably show it.”

That appeared to relieve the pianist, and he even looked somewhat apologetic for the way he lashed out at me earlier. But it weren’t his fault. None of this was.

“I’m sorry I lied to you, Eddie,” I finally said. “I really thought it was for the best. I thought you’d be safer if you didn’t know. But...you’re well aware of how much of a fool I can be.

Eddie gave me a small, but sincere smile. “Yes, I am.”

He leaned forward and planted a brief kiss on my lips, afterwards resting his head on my shoulder.

“Thank you for trusting me with this, Arthur. I didn’t mean to snap at you like that, but I don’t exactly have the easiest time trusting people. You know this. I was just afraid that nothing we had was genuine. That...this had all been some sort of ruse. But I shouldn’t have doubted you so easily. I see that now. After all, you’ve saved my life more times than I can count. You’ve earned my trust. Just...promise you won’t lie to me again.”

I tightened my hand around Eddie’s and pulled the boy closer as the two of us sat underneath the moonlight, peacefully watchin’ the night pass by.

“I won’t. I promise.”

Letting out a sigh of relief, I quietly thought to myself while Eddie relaxed against me, shutting his eyes in content.

I couldn’t believe I actually managed to save my relationship with him. I mean, the last time one of my lovers found out I was an outlaw, they ended up calling off the engagement and marryin’ another man.

I didn’t blame Mary for what she did -- in fact, I understood where she was coming from -- but at the same time...it did hurt a whole lot to lose her like that. After all, we spent so long falling in love with each other, and trickin’ ourselves into believing that nothing could separate us. So, to have her drop out of my life in such an abrupt manner -- due to a single man’s opinion -- it made me question the foundation of all my relationships.

But now, I could see that Eddie truly was a treasure. Even when he was afraid; even when he suspected that everything I’d done with him had been a lie...he still listened. He still tried to understand, and most importantly, he still gave me a second chance. And I’d be damned if I didn’t take it.

Eddie was the only thing that mattered to me now, and I was going to do everything within my power to protect him. Regardless of whatever happened to us.

Regardless of any man’s opinion.

#red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan #eddie ryan #oc #fanfic #story

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surviveshe · 5 years

Note

Grief :))))

grief meme . / @killingsidney .

HANDS ARE DRENCHED IN SOAPY WATER , as she stands at the sink, absentmindedly humming along to the radio as she washes dishes. there’s a content smile splayed on features in a silly fashion as she hears baby jill babble to her playpen to herself. her heart swells in her chest, a fierce love settling there. dinner was in the oven cooking, and billy had retired to the bedroom a few hours previous to get a nap after they’d been up late with their little girl. --- an unusual thing for them as jill was normally sleeping right through, but it had gone fast as soon as they settled her. as sidney finishes the last plate, she places it onto the draining board, however the humming stills when she hears the babbles coming out of her daughters mouth and she turns quickly --- chocolate hues widening, almost in a shock. IT WAS HER FIRST WORD. of course it would be dad. billy and jill didn’t just share a similarity in looks --- it was like looking into her love’s eyes every time she held her, something she couldn’t help but adore. --- but they also shared an incredible bond. one that was admirable, and sidney knew it was something he cherished. her head tilts in confusion for a moment as she watches how the baby’s arms are held up, eyes locked on thin air and it causes her to still --- a frightfully deep freeze capturing her heart and she’s running to the bedroom. SOMETHING WASN’T RIGHT. she wants to believe it’s the child’s way of telling her to get her dad up, but something about the look on her face, the pure glee of the acknowledgement of empty space, just didn’t settle right within her.the minute she opens the door, she knows somethings off, and she isn’t sure how --- but it’s the chill she feels in her bones, the way the air feels suffocating, the way her world already feels like it’s crumbling at her feet without any chance of repair. and there he is. and he looks so peaceful, and she almost believes it’s because he’s sleeping, but she knows different immediately because of the tablets and the note at the side of the bed and suddenly her chest is caving in --- all the air has gone out of the room and she can hear herself screaming, her knees almost giving way from beneath her. jill’s cries are heard from the living room, obvious distress from the sound of her mother breaking. she manages to make her way to the bed, though she isn’t sure how. it’s like time has stopped. she knows he has demons, she knows that he’d struggled with this and she isn’t angry, but she is devastated --- she can’t wrap her head around it and she tries instantaneously to bring him back, giving him mouth to mouth and chest compression's because she couldn’t just stand there and do nothing. she couldn’t just give up, and let everything shatter. ‘ come on, baby. please, please fight for me. fight for us. ’ she begs through sobs, still trying to pump some life back into him with her hands, but it’s hopeless. and she feels useless. his body is already going cold, and it’s something that leaves her completely fucking empty, there are no words sufficient enough for such a feeling. it was indescribable. she finds herself sobbing into his chest, wishing that this was all some stupid sick joke, that he’d wrap his arms around her again, like he had so many times before --- his arms were a place where she’d always felt safe and now she could only associate them with this horrible feeling. muffled cries are sound from her lips against his t-shirt, tears streaming as she pleads desperately with him. if words and love alone could have brought him back he’d be here, alive, happy and with his family that needed him. ‘ come back to me, please. i can’t do this without you. ’ voice breaks, the emotions becoming too much for her body to process or to handle --- leading her body to quiver under the weight of them. she’s clutching his t-shirt for dear life, wishing desperately with all her might that this was some sick nightmare that would disappear and she’d wake up happy, surrounded by him holding their little girl with pure pride and heart warming love on his features. it was a dream far from reach now, when moments previous she was hopeful for their future, for all that was to come, and now he was laid beneath her cold, and never coming back. ‘ you have to come back. you can’t leave us like this, baby. please, please, please ! jill, she needs you. she just said dada ! she just spoke her first word ----- ’ it’s gut wrenching as she comes to the startling realization of what he’s going to miss, of how she’s gonna have to push through without him, of how her little girl had been seeing something that just wasn’t there. ‘ i need you. please, please don’t leave me. ’ she couldn’t accept this, that the man she loved with ever fiber of her being just wasn’t there anymore, that he wasn’t ever going to be there. that she’d never see him sing along in a humorous fashion to the trash music on the radio to both her and the baby, how she’d never see his smile that lit up a room again, how she’d never hear him profess his love for them both again. it was tragic. she lays there, mumbling begs for what feels like forever after, eyes and cheeks red raw from crying more than she could handle --- as she finally let the crippling weight of all of this cause her to crumble. he was gone.

#killingsidney #me ??? emo #u guessed #suidice mention tw #suicide mention #suicide tw #suicide cw #grief tw #grief cw #loss tw #loss cw #* i. we are done with acting evil. we will lay our weapons down. ( re : sidney & billy happy ending au. )

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sieben9 · 6 years

Text

“a tale of two sisters” impressions

{Quick request to anyone reading: I’m watching OUaT for the first time, and I want to avoid spoilers. So, if you want to discuss something spoilery, I’d be grateful if you could start a new post for that. Thank you!}

New season! [insert very tempting Galavant joke]

Some good, some meh, some excellent; overall a very fun episode, I'd say. For me, I mean; not many other people seemed to have fun.

Starting with her. That "villain reveal" kind of fizzled, didn't it? Not that I mind all that much, but now I'm worried about who is going to do the actual villain-ing. Hans doesn't seem to be around, at least.

Some thoughts and speculations under the cut.

So, while the Frozen-flashbacks and the giant monster-snowman were obviously in focus for most of the episode, all of that seems more like buildup than anything else. OK, Else came out of the urn from the past, and she doesn't know where Anna is, but Rumple has Anna's necklace, which Else knew to look for in his shop. Oh, and she clearly knows him on sight, presumably as the Dark One.

they already sneak off into the woods in the middle of the night and somehow the press still notices

Though again, Rumple, I do have to ask: why do you keep women in urns in your basement? Is this something we should talk about? Anyway, now she's here and creating murder-snowmen left right and centre. Let's hope they do find Anna; she seems to be good at handling that.

Meanwhile, Emma may have decided not to run away from her family, but she's very much still running from Hook. Seems like that passionate kiss last time was in fact too much, too soon. Good. I'd have liked it better if the framing wasn't pushing the "ha ha, silly woman cannot admit that she likes him" angle, but still good.

Honestly, the real drama in her life seems to be happening somewhere else, anyway.

...OK. So, I have rules in place for this arc. One of them is that I do not get more then one Frozen-joke per three episodes. Believe me, I know myself and it's better this way. So, with that said:

"do you wanna build a snowman?"

"ok, bye."

(And yes, that scene in the first picture is a very good one, and I have some more thoughts on that, but short version: I’m very interested to see where the Emma/Regina relationship goes this season.)

So. Regina is not taking Marian's return well. I'm... still kind of "?" about her reaction towards Emma. She saved someone's life. This had nothing to do with you, friend. Can you please stop acting like this was some malicious ploy to ruin your life

...no, not like that. Wrong way, please turn around when possible.

::sigh:: Goddamnit, Regina.

I'll have to say: I was really glad when she decided not to go the Zelena route of travelling back in time to kill the person who stands in her way. And that scene with the mirror (hi, Sidney, by the way, sorry to see where you've been all this time) was heartbreaking and very to the point. She didn't even have to say anything. Just her face while watching her old self ("I'm not that person anymore") gleefully condemning Marian to death was enough. Yes, she really did work hard not to be the Evil Queen any longer. She no longer plays the part of the villain--and that's why she goes and saves Marian, later on.

Good. Because I have vivid memories of a certain speech in a certain barn, and let's say I'm glad I didn't have to drag that up. Well done. Mostly.

And then, slightly to the left of all the other fairly interconnected stories, you have the Rumbelle plot. Now, some of you may be worried that after the wedding-freakout last time, you'll have to endure a honeymoon-freakout on my part this time around. And you're right. But that's for later. First is a scene that I at once really wanted, but also really feared.

wow, weird, it's raining over my desk again.

Yeah. Man stands at the grave of his only child. There's... really no way to make this less bleak, especially since I'm still quietly angry that Neal died in the first place. But I'm glad that we have this scene. I'm glad he's allowed to grieve in peace, and that it gives us a glimpse into Rumple's thoughts at this time. He really does want to do this right, and he presumably took the dagger to "tie up" that one loose end (read: Zelena) before turning over a new leaf. And even if he will always feel the loss of his son (really, how could he not), I got at least the impression that he was going to try and live a life beyond that. (I really wish there had been more of a time jump between seasons, because all of this is still incredibly soon and fresh and uncomfortably close together, but I'll just have to accept that TV time is not like real time)

OK, heavy stuff over. Have a giggly Belle in a car.

look at these ridiculous dorky would-be housebreaker...

And now, the freakout:

!!!

Look at them! Look at these poor idiots who have been through so much hell, and now they get to be just happy for once! They are so giddy and in love and it was wonderful. ::happy shipper sigh::

I'm just deeply worried that Rumple will, well, Rumple it all up again because of that stupid hat in the living room. ::sigh:: Look, buddy, just tell her. Whatever is going on with the Galaxy Hat there, I'm sure you can talk about it.

...yeah, I don't think that's what's going to happen.

#ouat #once upon a time #a tale of two sisters #sieben watches ouat #sieben talks #i promise not every post is going to be 40% rumbelle #but right now...#look my otp got married #that's like winning the fandom lottery #let me squee for a bit

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the-tendo-blog · 6 years

Text

Curse of the enchanted arrow - henry danger mythology au

So this right here is a nice little oneshot for this au, and I’m REALLY proud of the results! I’m sorry it’s so long, though.

H*nray shippers don’t interact I don’t have a banner for that shit

Word count: 4420

Rating: PG-13?

Warnings: towards the end there’s pretty violent fight scene and some super light gore, and a quick scene with body horror right before it

"You see our enemies on that crystal screen, my friends?" Ray asked, slamming his cup down. "I pity them. They were brought here with more combat expertise than anyone here could hope to have. They outnumber us six to one. They're fast and they're mean. Every single one of them will be dead by sunset. They think we're demons with swellview wrapped around our finger. They think they can wipe us out. However, they couldn't be more wrong. You see, my friends. They are no soldiers. They live a sheltered life in Their leader's hideout. While they sit sunning their wretched hides in calm meadows, we fight unspeakable horrors in the harshest conditions, protecting the land of swellview with our lives! Our suffering is our strength, let's show them the unbreakable fighting spirit of captain man and kid danger! Shred their bodies with a storm of lead! Rip out their organs with your swords! Crush their pathetic skulls with your iron boots! SLAUGHTER THEM ALL!"

"Calm down, Ray. It's just dr. Minyak with an army of weird magic rats." Henry brought his friend back to reality, all nine of his orange tinted fox tails curled around himself as he sat on the ground.

"Oh, so I can't give a pep talk?" Ray replied, crossing his arms and curling his scorpion tail.

"No, just maybe you should save your big dramatic speeches for murderous shapeshifters and pissed off dragons." Henry said, Grinning a little. "We could definitely use it more then."

"Whatever." Ray said as he got to his feet, two massive scorpion claws on the front of his body helping him up. "Let's go stop minyak and his army of 'magic rats', as kitsune boy here calls them." He said as he made air quotes.

"Sorry, scorpion man. I have a big test tomorrow, I need to get home early to study."

"Hey! So you're just going to leave me to fight those things on my own? Then it'll be, like, 100 to 1!"

"Ask Charlotte to go with you, she's an amazon! You're not the only one here who belongs to some fancy warrior race."

Ray crossed his arms. "I guess it'll be nice to have a real warrior around for this one." He teased.

Henry's ears flattened. "Hey! Just because Charlotte is an amazon and always wears armor doesn't mean she's any kid danger! I have hypermotility!"

"Don't you have to study?"

"Yes! It's important."

Ray nodded. "Alright then. Charlotte, I'll go grab your hero armor. Looks like we'll have to show them the unbreakable fighting spirit of captain man and red Valkyrie."

Charlotte stood up and saluted him. "Can I use that scythe?"

Ray nodded and Charlotte jumped on the back of Ray's scorpion body, and they headed off to another room while Henry walked over to a magic doorway, leading to junk-n-stuff.

He walked out and took a look at the potions, amulets and spellbooks littering the walls, locating Jasper behind the counter, helping an elf check out a few potions. Once they left, Jasper walked out from behind the counter and closed up shop.

"Hey, jasp. Where are you going after work?" Henry asked, his tails fanning out.

"Oh, I'm just heading home." He replied, his intricate and beautiful antlers bumping into a shelf, causing him to flinch a little from surprise.

"Can you give me a ride to crystalline lake?"

Jasper's hooves clicked against the ground as he turned around, as if he were surprised he'd ask.

"Of course! Hop on!" The cervitaur replied, grinning.

Henry thanked him and switched to his kitsune form, jumping on Jasper's back and laying his head on his paws as Jasper walked out the door.

It was sunset, and the town of swellview looked even more enchanting and beautiful than it typically did. Several small wyverns flew right past Henry, a bird stopping to rest on Jasper's antlers. The buildings around them stood tall, nearby trees glowing faintly in the slight darkness. Beings and beasts alike littering the paths beside the road, a time where the adventures of the day began to calm down. Henry watched as a mother gryphon carried her young on her back to a nest high in the sky, his currently foxlike face curling into a drowsy smile.

In what felt like no time at all, Jasper stopped at their destination.

"Here we are, crystalline lake," He said, watching Henry jump off his back and to the ground before switching to his Humanoid form. "Do you have your water amulet?"

Henry rifled through his pockets and took out a small circle that looked as if it had small scales with an ocean wave painted on it, and put it around his neck alongside his kid danger talisman. "Yep."

"Good, see you tomorrow!" Jasper said and scampered off.

Henry turned to look at the lake, it seemed to go on for miles, a bridge right in the middle, the other side of the lake reaching all the way to downtown swellview.

The kumiho looked down at the lake, and took a deep breath and clutched the water talisman, and dived in. He had friends in that lake, the magical kind.

Henry felt the water hit his face, as he went deeper, a flurry of bubbles unveiled him as a satisfying chill ran through his body. Slowly, he tested himself and let a little air out, no bubbles rose up.

With the help of the amulet, he could breathe underwater. Slowly Henry became more accustomed to it, short breaths, then deeper ones.

Slowly he opened his eyes, before him stood a wonder he completely forgot about.

An underwater city, lights of bioluminescent kelp illuminated the streets. Buildings covered in aquatic plants as far as the eye could see, and beautiful sea creatures to match. A school of fur-bearing trout sped past Henry as he began to swim down towards the bottom.

The blond wasn't sure if he knew where he was going, he hadn't been in the underwater district of swellview in a while. There were a few levels, after all. He had only come down recently to stop a threat, and even then he spent a lot of it practically carrying ray, whose species didn't swim well due to their heavy scorpion bodies.

He paddled further towards the city, then stopped to rest on top of a second level building.

I'm here, but I've completely forgotten where to find what I'm looking for. He thought, deciding to take some time to look around.

"Hi Henry!" A familiar voice called to him.

He turned to see a satyr with short black hair, beige skin, and glasses.

"Oliver?" He replied, his ears perking up.

"What are you doing down here?" The satyr replied, sitting down on the roof of the building with him.

"I'm looking for Sidney's place," Henry was distracted by a kelpie swimming by. "Although I've completely forgotten where it is, I don't come down here often after all."

"That's fine, I'll help." Oliver replied as his own water amulet glowed and translucent, ghostly batlike wings appeared.

"Woah!" Henry was amazed by the newfound magic appendages. "How did you do that?"

"water amulets can recognize it's wearers swimming abilities and help them accordingly." Oliver explained as he got ready to lead Henry to their destination.

"How come mine doesn't do that then?"

"I don't know, maybe because your tails can work like fins?"

Henry shrugged and followed Oliver as they began to swim again. They weaved through buildings of all kinds; coffee shops, clothing stores, and they even passed a huge dome Oliver said was like a botanical garden, but for plants and creatures found in the ocean.

He missed his trips down here, he didn't know why he stopped. It was like an entirely different world, everything felt silky and ethereal, high speed races through the clouds high above swellview were nothing compared to the odd peacefulness found here. Not many on the surface really seemed to bother with it, some even considered the thought of what could possibly be contained in that lake unnerving. As for henry, he considered it an almost safe place, where the waves would gently caress you and let you feel peace, drifting alongside creatures you'd never see on land.

"Hey, we're here." Henry's admiring of his surroundings were stopped once he realized where he was.

He was in front of what appeared to be a typical house if it were built at the bottom of the ocean, carvings of seashells and Celtic symbols decorating the exterior. Henry recognized the place immediately.

Oliver knocked on the door, and not much later a merperson answered who had short black hair that caused the large fins protruding from their ears and arms to stand out, and wore a gray shirt to compliment the blue and white hues of their tail. Henry recognized this creature as Sidney.

"Henry? I haven't seen you in forever." They said, pleasantly surprised by his presence.

"Decided I'd come down with Oliver to visit." Henry replied, his ears twitching a little.

Sidney invited them both in, and the two land-dwelling creatures sat down in relief, the underwater district of swellview was nice and all, but it was definitely tiring to navigate. The three took some time to catch up, it had been a long time after all. They told each other about all things that had happened above the water, and Sidney told them the events of the lake, as the two districts were a bit detached from each other. Suddenly, the merfolk asked Oliver to leave. He said he'd meet Sidney by a certain pub henry never caught the name of, and headed off.

"Sidney? Why did you want me alone?" Henry asked, a few of his tail tips facing up but curling, the others twitched a little.

"Because I can tell something's bothering you." Sidney said, crossing his arms. "I could tell before you even showed up today."

"How?" Henry asked, one of his tail tips twitching.

"I know a little plant magic, remember?" Sidney reminded him, showing Henry a line of aquatic plants near a windowsill. "Each one is named after a friend of mine, if a plant starts to droop or look unhealthy, it's a magic indicator that something is bothering the friend they're named after."

Henry nodded. Sidney was right, something was bothering him, he just hoped to hang out and forget. That plan had failed.

"Look." Sidney pointed out a small pondweed plant with curly leaves, and it seemed to be turning brown near the ends. "That's yours. So, what's bothering you?"

"It's nothing, really."

"Plant magic doesn't lie, Henry."

Henry's ears flattened in reluctance, how was he supposed to say this without revealing he was kid danger?

"There's been a lot of mysterious appearances up on land, and it's getting a little creepy." Henry admitted. "My boss up at junk-n-stuff says it's happened before a few times, like some pattern."

Sidney tilted his head. "Are you sure it's not some dragon with an unusual hoard?"

"No, no." Henry continued, shifting from side to side ever so slightly. "If it was, captain man and kid danger would probably return with the creatures that disappeared, and my boss said that every time this has happened, they don't come back. Apparently captain man and kid danger don't find a dragon or anything."

Sidney suddenly froze as he remembered something. "Henry, I think I might know what's going on. You have every right to be scared."

Henry's ears flattened again and his tails curled back. "What do you mean?"

"I saw something on the surface last night. I know it'll be safe here in the water, so you're welcome at my place in the face of something happening."

"What are you talking about?"

"I don't want to worry anyone else. Just take this and address it to the man cave, make sure it's submitted anonymously." Sidney gave him a waterproof scroll.

"A scroll? Sidney, people just use paper and envelopes."

"Not when it's important."

"Right..."

"Anyways, I'd suggest keeping your mind off the disappearances. I'll make sure your plant gets extra sunlight."

Henry thanked him and swam off, heading to the surface and switching to his kitsune form, scampering all the way home with the scroll in his jaws.

* * *

The next day, Henry managed to get Sidney's cryptic message off his mind. He was sitting in the man cave with a video game controller in his hand, much more relaxed now. Despite this, he couldn't help but wonder exactly what was written on that scroll. Scrolls were only reserved for messages of utmost importance, so what would they know that captain man and kid danger didn't?

His thoughts were interrupted by ray bursting into the room, wide-eyed and holding something.

"HENRY! Get ready for the biggest mission we've ever gone on!"

Henry' ears perked up as ray headed over. He was holding Sidney's scroll. "This was just mailed to us with no return address or anything, and it has everything in it to finally put an end to an ongoing crime!"

"What kind of ongoing crime?" Henry asked.

"There's been random periods of time when a bunch on swellview citizens suddenly disappeared, without returning. I've been chasing whatever's responsible for it for nine years!"

Henry nodded, only half listening.

"I couldn't figure anything out about it to save my life! But this scroll, this has everything I need to know! Whoever wrote it has all the missing information!" Ray went on before rolling it open.

"Cool."

"Those mysterious disappearances, they were murders! Victims of some kind of hunt! The scroll says a marrashi was planning it!"

"What's a marrashi again? Aren't they usually peaceful?"

"They're beings that look like jackals with bird's feet and wings that stand on two legs, they can't reproduce normally, so they craft enchanted arrows and shoot them at a living thing and that technically kills them and turns the body into a new, sentient marrashi. But here's the thing, that doesn't happen anymore. Marrashis are civilized, they create magic statues and shoot those so nothing has to die! They just shoot animals if anything at all!"

"Sounds cool, dude."

"But this specific one, he calls himself mizain the bold, has been building an army! And he doesn't use statues, he's been killing innocent swellview citizens! For nine years! And he's going to attack tonight!"

"Mizain the bold? That's a cool name."

"Not when it's the name of a brutal murderer!" Ray shouted back. "Tonight we're going into the woods next to crystalline lake, I'm guessing that's their training ground. Bring your most powerful weapons, we'll take the part facing swellview. wait a second, have you even been listening?"

"I have. Now go away, I'm training my mind for battle."

"Henry, you're playing video games."

"Exactly, training. Now leave me alone, you're distracting me."

* * *

And so, night fell. Ray, Henry, and Charlotte stood outside the woods, each one clad in their respective armor, their best weapons with them.

"Okay, here's the plan." Ray began, snipping his claw a few times in thought. "Charlotte, you stand guard here. Make sure to take down any marrashis that make it past us. only the hostile ones in some kind of armor, don't go attacking any innocent citizens."

"Tell me something I don't know already." Charlotte said, crossing her arms.

"That's a dangerous statement. There are many things you don't know, and there's even more things that should be kept secret."

Charlotte was clearly surprised by his response. "You're annoyingly cryptic, captain man."

Ray smirked and shrugged. "I try."

"alright, general. Let's go." Henry said, jumping on Ray's back so he'd have some time to get his weapons ready.

As they walked around looking for their enemies, Henry has brought a large rucksack and continually took weapons and their holsters out and strapped them to his armor. Henry had brought weapons ranging from shurikens to gauntlets, and needed everything to be accessed easily. As he was doing this, he took out what appeared to be a dull sword with a hook at the base.

"How are you going to do any damage with a sword that dull?" Ray asked, looking at the weapon his sidekick was holding. "I told you to bring only the best weapons."

"Best offensive weapons." Henry corrected him.

"And this isn't just any sword, it's a hachiwari."

"Okay? It just looks like a bad katana."

"It's more than that."

"A sword that dull is totally useless, kid!"

"Only if cutting and stabbing are it's only uses." Henry replied, his tails fluffed out in annoyance.

"That's what you use a sword for."

"didn't you bring a bow and arrows?"

"Yeah, why not?"

"Then by using that you're not expecting your enemies to be wearing any metal! The arrows will just bounce right off them! With a hachiwari, it's made specifically to tear off armor-"

"Sounds a little creepy to me."

"So you can make them an easier target for things like arrows! Who doesn't wear something underneath their armor? That's just bad planning."

"I do that sometimes!"

"That's weird."

"You're weird."

The two stopped, Henry put the hachiwari in a holster on his back and instead took out intricate red and silver gauntlets. Ray curled his tail as if ready to sting and put his claws in front of him defensively as he grabbed a battle axe.

"Keep watch for anything." Ray whispered.

They were out there for quite a while, looking around for something, anything to indicate that mizain the bold was coming. After what felt like hours, they heard a rustle in the bushes. Henry noticed something nearby.

"Captain man, it's just a deer."

Ray stood wide-eyed and held his battle axe closer to himself and held out a claw in front of Henry.

"Stay back, kid."

"Why?"

"That's not a deer anymore."

They watched as what they thought was a deer's antlers seemingly melted off, as their ears decayed away and new, taller ones at the top of their head grew in their place, it's front hooves slowly seemed to melt off and handlike paws appeared underneath, it's back hooves elongated into large bird's feet. The rest of it's body looked like it was rotting, shrinking a little and turning a dark brown with small spots, it's snout elongated and wings sprouted in a process that looked so painful it was hard to watch.

Henry seemed to recognize this transformation after a while, it had been hit by one of the enchanted arrows, and it had become a marrashi.

"Surprised, are you?" An unnerving voice called out to them.

Henry and ray turned to see one of these creatures, clad in heavy metal armor and blue paint on it's face. Behind it stood what looked like an army of creatures of the same species.

"Who are you?" Ray shouted, brandishing the large axe.

"The name's mizain. I'm here for swellview." They replied.

"If you want swellview, you'll have to get through us first."

Mizain grinned and drew a broadsword. "That won't be an issue."

The crowd behind mizain all drew their weapons. The marrashi grinned. "Get 'em, boys!"

The army charged foward, Henry's ears flattened and he hissed as he charged back and punched an attacker right in the snout. They snarled and swung their sword. Henry blocked it.

He ran around to the back using hyper motility and climbed onto them and jumped off their head as a booster, tossing several shurikens at enemies below.

He landed on another marrashi and slammed their head into the ground before getting hit in the stomach by a mace-wielding enemy. Henry hissed in pain and tried to deflect the mace, but it was no use. He almost took a blow to the head, but the opponent's weapon was knocked out of their hand. Henry quickly glanced behind him to see ray with a longbow, quickly winking before returning to the fight.

Henry ran and quickly grabbed the mace and finished off the attacker before heading off to another, the rush he got from all intense fights kicking in. He slammed the mace into the head of an approaching attacker. Then into the wings of another particularly determined one. They punched him in the neck.

Henry gasped for air and hit them with the mace again. And again. And again. Henry just barely missed getting stabbed with a sword and dropped the mace, mizain swooping down and grabbing the weapon.

Henry wrestled the attacker to the ground and punched with the gauntlets until they gave up.

"Who's next?" He growled, drawing his sword.

Five attackers answered to that call, each swooping in with their swords.

Henry's tails drooped as his eyes widened. "Oh no."

He took the hachiwari in his other hand and ended up in quite the sword fight. He could barely hold them off.

"It's over, kid danger!" One bellowed before getting knocked several feet in the air by a familiar blue battle axe.

Ray had arrived to help out his sidekick. together, the two were knocking marrashis off their wretched evil feet.

Henry was about knock out a particularly vicious one, but he noticed something about it. It looked familiar. Too familiar. Henry's grip softened as something came back to him.

"What's wrong, kid?" Mizain taunted, his lips curled into a devilish smile. "Was this someone you knew?"

Henry's heroic fighting high melted into shock. Henry looked up at the leader. "You..." he whispered.

The shock ignited into a raging fire of anger and vengeance. This fire consumed him as he activated the claws on his gauntlets.

"YOU'RE THE ONE WHO KILLED MY SISTER!" Henry screamed and charged at mizain, tackling him and ripping off his helmet and stabbing and slashing him anywhere he could, watching the blood spurt out like it were a firework show.

Once mizain was for sure dead, Henry switched to his kitsune form and sunk his jaws into the neck of another attacker, the need to bring justice morphing into bloodlust.

He went back and forth between every remaining member of mizain's dark army, switching between humanoid and kitsune forms, mauling any one unfortunate enough to catch his eyes.

"DON'T YOU DARE THINK YOU'RE GETTING OUT ALIVE!" Henry screamed as he snapped the neck of an attacker, the remaining fleeing.

"Come back, I'm not done with you yet!" A kid danger drenched in marrashi blood shouted, running after one of them.

Suddenly, ray picked him up off the ground and pulled him close, holding him back from doing any more damage.

"Henry, stop! You've gone hysterical!" Ray shouted as Henry struggled to get out of Ray's grip, but to no avail.

Henry squirmed and kicked and hissed, screaming to be let out and about how he wanted all of them dead. Ray kept him close, making sure he didn't get out again no matter what. After a while, Henry calmed down.

Henry slowly came back to his senses, taking deep breaths. His eyes, however, were closed.

"Good, good. It's okay, Henry. I'm here. Mizain's gone. Nothing can attack you anymore." Ray said, looking down to make sure he's okay.

Henry's eyes slowly opened, he saw the damage he caused. Marrashis across the ground for what seemed like miles, dead.

His ears dropped to the sides of his head, similar to that of a sad puppy. Then, he cried. Silently, but ray could clearly hear his sniffing.

Ray was shocked. He'd never seen anyone cry like that before, tears were streaming down Henry's face so fast it looked like a waterfall. He slowly put Henry down.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

All ray got back was Henry's hysterical babbling.

"Do... do you want to go back to the man cave?" Ray asked.

Henry nodded.

"Here, you can ride on my back." Ray said, helping Henry on.

The whole walk back, he kept checking on henry, and he didn't know what to do. Just minutes ago he watched Henry shred through countless enemies like a murder machine, and now he sat sobbing hysterically in his blood-soaked armor.

He could only wonder what had happened to send Henry into such a state.

Once they got to Charlotte, even she couldn't help Henry. He just had his face buried in his gauntlets, tears dripping down.

Once they got back to the man cave, they sat Henry down on the couch.

Ray took off his armor plates, revealing scuffed chainmail.

"Henry, Henry..." ray began, drying Henry's tears with a finger. "Speak to us, Henry."

Henry sniffled. "I... killed them back there..."

"They were our enemies, it happens..."

"No, ray! You don't understand! I killed them! There were like, a thousand or more! I don't even know how many I got..." Henry sobbed. "I'm a terrible person..."

"No, you're not..." Charlotte said, unsure of what else to say. "What do you remember?"

Henry looked up at her.

"It's just us here." Ray gently reminded him.

"I... I was fighting... and I saw this one try to attack me.. I was going to... I was going to hit back." Henry began.

"and?" Ray asked, putting his hand on Henry's shoulder.

"It was... it was Piper."

Ray's eyes widened. "What do you mean it was Piper?"

"When... I was eight, Piper got hit by some cursed arrow that killed her... and she came back as a ghost person... but that's what her body turned in to." Henry explained through sobs as he hid his face in his tail. "I realized mizain killed her... and I don't remember what happened next. All I know is ray was holding me off the ground and all the marrashis were dead, and something told me I did it... I'm a murderer, ray! A crybaby and a murderer! Why would captain man want a sidekick who's a murderer?"

Ray didn't know what else to do besides hug Henry close and try to comfort him. Henry buried his face in Ray's shoulder and cried even more.

"It's okay, they were enemies out to destroy swellview. If anything, you saved us..." he said, hugging Henry tightly back.

Once Henry calmed down, he went off to go take a shower. Charlotte had to go, and ray sat alone in the man cave.

He didn't know what to make of it. All he knew was he wished he could have done more, and maybe Piper wasn't the brat he thought she was.

#henry danger #hd mythology au

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jamesginortonblog · 6 years

Link

The moment James Norton decided he might actually want to be an actor was during his appearance as Gwen Stefani in the school miming competition, when he was 11.

Most people chose songs by a boyband, or Coolio, but Norton picked Stefani, because he loved No Doubt. It was a boys’ school and the female costume department wasn’t very well-equipped – one pencil skirt and a blonde wig between them, whether you were Cleopatra or Courtney Love – so everyone assuming a female role looked rather similar, with very badly applied lipstick. ‘Really young weird drag queens is what we looked like,’ remembers Norton.

A video exists of this debut. ‘And in the first verse I was clearly terrified. But then I remember feeling the audience and being fuelled by them.’ By the second verse he starts to strut, out of nowhere, and the connection was made. ‘F— yeah!’ thought Norton. ‘This is it!’

Here we are 20 years later and Norton is having the time of his life. In what has become a varied career curriculum – a pop star (Gwen Stefani), a padre (Sidney Chambers in Grantchester), a prince (Andrei in War & Peace) and a psychopath (Tommy Lee Royce in Happy Valley), not to mention his theatre roles – Norton has managed to escape the sort of typecasting that could have defined him.

He is a good-looking, fairly posh, highly accomplished and intelligent actor, who in a short time has become very famous indeed.

When we meet he is rehearsing a role in Belleville (which has now just opened) at the Donmar Warehouse in London, and his reputation is set to soar with his new television role – as a young hedge-fund manager in McMafia, the BBC’s eight-part exploration of financial corruption and global organised crime.

Inspired by Misha Glenny’s book of the same name, the series was written by Hossein Amini (who wrote the 2011 film Drive) and James Watkins, who also directed it.

It was shot over eight months in London, Croatia, Moscow and Tel Aviv, with an international cast, including David Strathairn and Faye Marsay. Norton plays Alex Godman, the son of Russian exiles with mafia connections, who has been working to distance himself from his family’s reputation.

Glenny’s book is a masterful piece of investigative journalism and has quite a reputation with both law enforcers and gangsters.

‘Actors can be brilliant at what they do but they don’t necessarily engage in the issues or environment beyond their role,’ says Glenny, who acted as an adviser on the series. ‘James gets the character, and the environment and the issues. He has an extraordinary ability, which enables him to make this very subtle 180-degree turn over the eight episodes.’

It’s a Michael Corleone type role. When Norton was cast, the director told him that what they were hoping for in Alex Godman was part Sidney, part Tommy – somewhere between the vicar and the psychopath. Norton believes McMafia has a valid, topical message, what with the Paradise Papers and the climate of tax evasion, Russian interference and widespread corruption.

‘There’s such an appetite for it now; everyone wants to see what state-level corruption looks like. It’s a catalyst for a conversation, and hopefully we can use it to mobilise something – because of the way that financial institutions are structured, it’s impossible to police that grey area where legality ends and criminality begins.’

If I ever turned up in a convertible my family would just laugh We meet for breakfast in the Covent Garden Hotel on a cold November morning, before Norton’s rehearsal at the Donmar.

He is chatty and engaging and it is not long before we get on to the subject of his 92-year-old Great Aunt Grania (most interviews with Norton mention James Bond and his Great Aunt Grania), known for her confidence-boosting prowess. He tells me about the time when she looked at him quizzically over dinner and said, ‘I can’t understand why you look so good on the screen James, when you look so bland in real life.’

I don’t like to contradict a 92-year-old, but I beg to differ with Great Aunt Grania. Norton is much better looking in real life than on television. His face is full of light; so is his voice – and he laughs a lot and is ready to be amused at all times. He seems curious, well balanced and up for anything. I imagine he comes from a very happy family. ‘I do,’ he says. They are, he says, his great leveller.

‘And you do need that constant reminder of who you were before the madness started. I am lucky to have such a normal, grounded family who are really supportive. They enjoy it all through me and I enjoy their enjoyment of it, but they’re never going to be seduced by it. Which means that hopefully I won’t get seduced by it either. If I ever turned up in a convertible my family would just laugh. The person I was at 25 is exactly the same person I am at 32.’

Norton was born in London but grew up in Malton, North Yorkshire. Both his parents worked full-time – unusual, he says, at that time for where they lived.

His father was a university lecturer and his mother started off as a nurse. ‘She didn’t come on holiday with us for several years because she was doing a PhD in her spare time. She’s a strong woman and an amazing example to us.’ His younger sister is a doctor.

Norton went to the local primary school and had a thick Yorkshire accent (not dissimilar to that of Tommy Lee Royce) then went to the public school Ampleforth College.

‘I didn’t love school. They were not the happiest five years of my life. I didn’t fit in. I hit puberty quite late, which made quite a big difference. I loved theatre and music, which wasn’t as cool as liking rugby and smoking. Also I really enjoyed the academic side and worked really hard; school set me up in a way because I wasn’t popular so had more time to work.’

He doesn’t come from a religious family, but Ampleforth was a strong Catholic school. ‘It was extraordinary. It’s stunning, set in this big valley which was often bathed in morning mist. And you have prayers three times a day, so it was really quite a magical, mystical place.’

Because he was unhappy at school – he was bullied a bit, but not badly – Norton made friends with the chaplain, Father Peter, who became a sort of therapist. A relationship with faith developed ‘but it was more of a fascination and a comfort than a belief’.

After school, ‘I sort of let rip. I went off on an eight-month wander around South Asia on my own and I went a bit crazy. I finally felt comfortable in my own skin – there’s so much contention in that small, pressure-cooker environment of school so when I found people I loved and who loved me it was an amazing relief.’

He spent three months teaching in Nepal then went to India (with a tiny battered little Nokia - no smartphones back then) and had a wild, eye-opening time.

The theatricality of faith in Nepal really appealed to him. ‘Every day seems to be some sort of religious festival; it’s so imbued in their culture and their daily lives.’

When he went to Cambridge he read theology, ‘but I’m not religious; I’m intrigued. And I studied mostly Hinduism or Buddhism, not much Christian theology at all, which was really awkward when people would come up to me on the set of Grantchester and say, “You know – from Corinthians, Chapter Two” and I hadn’t a clue what they were on about.’

He got a first from Cambridge, but still managed to fit in a lot of theatre and alcohol while he was there, and had a relationship with a girl who directed him in several theatre productions; he still wears a bracelet she gave him today. It reminds him, he says, of the second time when he suddenly felt he could be an actor.

‘It was probably the moment it turned from a dream into a reality,’ he says. By the time he left university he already had a place at Rada. ‘It’s such a great feeling when someone asks you what you want to do with your life and you can reply “I’m an actor” – rather than, “I want to act.”’

To support himself, he worked as a children’s party entertainer in the holidays. Norton graduated from Rada six months early, having secured an agent and made a brief appearance in An Education in 2009. His first major theatrical role was in Laura Wade’s play Posh at the Royal Court in 2010, about the Riot Club, a fictionalised version of The Bullingdon Club at Oxford.

‘There were 10 guys in the cast and every evening, after the play, we’d spend all our wages on booze. It was like a sports team.’ In 2011 he appeared in a revival of Journey's End at the Duke of York theatre, to this day one of his favourite roles.

A solid two years of theatre followed. ‘There were endless conversations with my agent about trying to nail a film role – and then suddenly you break through and your schedule changes – especially if you get a recurring series like Grantchester or Happy Valley – and you have no time left for theatre.’

He then went four years without doing a play at all – until last year’s Bug at the Soho Theatre, and now Belleville at the Donmar. Belleville is a punchy piece of writing by Amy Herzog about a young couple who’ve graduated from Yale and decide to move to Paris. Norton plays a doctor; Imogen Poots is out of work his actor wife. They’re living the American dream, but they have a certain sense of entitlement, and, inevitably, everything falls apart.

Norton didn’t know Poots before they were cast, but they were soon rehearsing sex scenes together. ‘I had only met her two weeks before. You have to just trust, and let yourself be vulnerable.

'Of course it has a brilliant side to it – you get to know someone so quickly and intimately, and you build fantastic relationships; similarly with the director. I think the definition of an extrovert is someone whose energy is fuelled by other people, which I think I am – so a rehearsal room is a joy.’

Norton appeared in the TV series Death Comes to Pemberley (2013) and Life in Squares (2015), but it was three roles in fairly quick succession that made him a household name: firstly, as the 1950s cleric Reverend Sidney Chambers in Grantchester (2014-17), which had three series.

This, he says now, is the most fun he has ever had on set, mainly because of his friendship with Robson Green, who plays Inspector Geordie Keating. (At one point Green was ordered off set by the director because they were laughing so much.)

He also played Prince Andrei Bolkonsky in Andrew Davies’ revered six-part adaptation of War and Peace (2016), and Tommy Lee Royce in Sally Wainwright’s brilliant BBC police drama Happy Valley (2014-16), which won a Bafta, and saved him, he says, from a life sentence of period drama.

Wainwright, the gifted writer of Last Tango in Halifax and Scott & Bailey, had seen Norton on stage in Journey’s End, but he was still pretty unknown when the call went out to audition for the part of Tommy Lee Royce, the psychopathic killer who becomes Sgt Catherine Cawood’s nemesis in a small town in West Yorkshire.

Norton already had the right accent from growing up in Malton. He was sent the script while he was in South Africa doing a ‘rather ropey’ film about Vikings, and he recorded his audition on video. He was very impressed by the screenplay, but didn’t really think he’d get the part. So, he says, he had nothing to lose, and went for it.

‘The character was so rich… my [audition] scene was the most incredible piece of writing, where a man is so sad and damaged that the most loving act he can think of to do for his eight-year-old son is to kill him.’ Not long after, he got a call from his agent to tell him that the part was his. ‘Being offered Tommy changed my life because it’s opened so many doors. It showed that I could play the baddie.’

And he did it memorably. As Tommy Lee Royce he was horribly convincing – so much so that once when he was in a queue, the girl in front of him turned round and saw him, screamed and ran away.

Last year, he was tipped to be the next James Bond, and became the bookies’ favourite. He gets asked about it constantly, but there's not much to say.

‘It would come with incredible challenges, but beyond that I haven’t thought about it at length because it’s so speculative and silly. I’m flattered that people would even consider me. But I’m also a huge fan of Daniel Craig, so would want him to do a few more films.’

Happy Valley, which won a Bafta, saved him, he says, from a life sentence of period drama Norton is permanently busy. He has just filmed the remake of the ’90s classic Flatliners; today he is rehearsing for Belleville and then recording voiceovers for McMafia, this evening he is attending a ball in aid of JDRF (Junior Diabetic Research Fund).

He has type 1 diabetes, having developed it when he was 22. His mother and his sister are also diabetic. He injects himself several times a day, but has incorporated it into his life and doesn’t let it deter him. ‘So for example, the kedgeree is about to arrive and I’ll have an injection to counter the carbs; it’s just about having a level of awareness about what you’re eating.

‘It’s interesting being on stage or on set because your body is full of adrenalin and that screws up your sugar, especially when I’m on stage for a full hour and a half. I have to anticipate it at the beginning of the show and make sure my sugar levels are going up or are at least stable. In period plays, I’ve had to stitch little pockets in my costume for sugar tablets.’

A few years ago, during a performance of Journey’s End, Norton was shaking a bit, and sweating from the adrenalin because the play was going well, but one of the other actors thought he was hypoing and told the stage manager.

‘Pandemonium broke loose. The next thing I know, they’re improvising and offering me Lucozade in a teacup, saying, “Cup of tea, sir?” and putting biscuits all over the dugout. So there have been moments where diabetes and theatre have collided.’ But since he started talking about it, he’s realised that he can have a positive influence on young diabetics and demonstrate that it’s a manageable condition.

What else? He lives in Peckham, in a house full of vintage clothes left over from when he used to run a clothes stall in Nunhead, and firmly refuses to talk about his love life, despite what I thought was some rather persuasive questioning on my part.

‘Let’s leave that one vague. Just say that at that point I started tucking into my kedgeree…’ He smiles broadly, disarmingly, but he is steely. Somewhere between a vicar and a psychopath.

#James Norton #article #McMafia #Belleville #diabetes #Telegraph

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jennielim · 4 years

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angryhausfrau-writes · 3 years

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You Can’t Cross the Same River Twice - Chapter 16

"Sorry you're being subjected to Maine in February - it's not exactly at its best under four feet of snow."

Steve grins. "At least I'll know what I'm getting into."

Hawkeye is heading up to Crabapple Cove with Steve Newsome to see if he wants to take over the family practice. And maybe it's not primarily a social call, but after weeks of dining with debutantes, Hawkeye is looking forward to seeing his dad - and the rest of Crabapple Cove, which will inevitably drop in once word of a stranger in town goes around. After all, even the most avid gossip in town is refreshingly down-to-earth compared to Boston high society.

Hawkeye smiles back. "I'll make sure to do a thorough job of introducing you to Crabapple Cove's myriad delights. Including some very lovely young ladies who would be delighted at a handsome young doctor moving into town."

"Hawkeye Pierce, matchmaker - I never would have guessed." Then Steve pauses. "I really do appreciate you showing me around. And letting me kind of take your place in your dad's practice. Are you sure you're ok with this?"

Hawkeye moves closer to Steve, hoping for a little privacy for what he's about to disclose. The lady on the opposite bench has been eying them since they left Boston.

"I don't know what Sidney told you about me, if anything. But I spent a couple of weeks at the Tokyo funny farm at the end of the war. I'd witnessed something pretty terrible and it shook me. Bad. Though I didn't realize that for a while - not till Sidney helped me figure it out. And while I was locked up in that little room - and later, while I was being literally shipped home - I had a lot of time to think about who I was and what I wanted to do once I was back home."

"I know the feeling," Steve says wryly. His own experience in a psych ward is one of the reasons Hawkeye is willing to tell him all of this. He can understand.

"I couldn't go home, Steve. I'd changed so much, but everyone there - people who'd known me since I was a kid - wouldn't be able to understand that. They'd want me to be the Hawkeye they knew from before. And I just can't be him anymore." Then Hawkeye grins. "So really, you're doing me a favor here, if you accept. Not to mention, you'll hopefully distract the hordes of women who keep trying to marry me."

Steve laughs. "What a difficult life you must lead - Crabapple Cove's most eligible bachelor."

Hawkeye's dad picks them up from the train station and drives them to his office in the center of town. Steve is grateful because, as vicious as Chicago winters can get, they don't usually involve this much snow. And it's nice to get a look at the town he might end up living in.

Crabapple Cove is a far cry from anything he's used to, but Steve thinks it has a certain charm. And about as much peace and quiet as he could ask for without moving to Antarctica. Hopefully he'll be able to sleep through the night here.

Dr. Pierce's practice impresses Steve. The office is small but well organized and scrupulously clean. Even at Tokyo, Steve doesn't think he's seen an OR so spotless.

When he says as much to Dr. Pierce, he just laughs and says, "This here's practically a floor model. Only a few thousand miles on her. And, knock on wood, it'll never have to see much more than a tonsillectomy."

That sounds pretty nice to Steve after so much meatball surgery. He raps his knuckles on the door frame. "I suppose Hawkeye already mentioned this, but I'm at a general practice now, so I can't say that's a disappointment."

Dr. Pierce nods. "Seems like all Korea managed to do was talk people out of being surgeons. Not that I can blame you for wanting a less exciting career."

Steve laughs. "I've had about as much excitement as I care to, courtesy of the front lines. I'm looking forward to a few decades of treating the common cold."

"Well, you've come to the right place, then. We have a few farming or boating accidents every year, but it's largely births, deaths, and routine ailments."

Then Dr. Pierce strides into the front lobby where Hawkeye is lounging sideways in a chair, reading Good Housekeeping.

"Tell you what, Steve, how about you take the lead on any cases that come in here today. Might help you get a better feel for the place. He flips open an appointment book on the receptionist's desk. "Looks like we've got a couple of general physicals, an unidentified cough, and whoever else wanders in - I'm sure your presence here will be a draw in of itself."

"That sounds fine to me," Steve says.

If he's going to stay here, he may as well start getting to know his patients. And it will probably give him some insight into working with Dr. Pierce as well. Steve's first impression of the man is genial good humor - with a sense of mischief underneath. It's fairly clear where Hawkeye got his sense of humor.

Speaking of Hawkeye, "Do you mind waiting while I take a shift here, Hawkeye? You can introduce me to anyone who doesn't show up to the office afterwards."

"Sounds fine to me, Steve. It'll give me a chance to catch up on all the local news." Hawkeye grins at the receptionist. "Gloria here is better informed about the goings on in Crabapple Cove than the paper."

With that settled, Steve falls into the familiar routine of treating patients. While some of the older folks seem a little unsure at being treated by a young whipper-snapper, Dr. Pierce's presence in the exam room convinces them to give him a chance. And Steve thinks he does well enough to prove his ability. He won't be run out of town, at least.

And apparently the news of a mysterious stranger in town has spread because the office is inundated with gawkers and look-sees. Many of whom happen to be single young ladies. And Hawkeye appears committed to playing matchmaker because he gives Steve a discrete rundown of all the women he even glances twice at.

Dr. Pierce must notice as well, because he asks, "Looking at a career change to marriage broker, Hawkeye?"

Hawkeye laughs. "This is all Charles's fault. He has me helping him find a wife - some sort of rich person inheritance deal."

"And is he, uh, aware of why you might not be the best person to help with that?" Hawkeye's dad appears to be holding back a laugh.

"My terminal bachelorhood was brought up, yes. But he's not asking for introductions, just wants me to make sure the future Mrs. Emerson Winchester III isn't an outright bigot. Plus, I got to be friends with Charles's sister Honoria out of the deal, so it's worth rubbing elbows with a bunch of snobs."

Steve laughs. "I can't even begin to imagine what Charles's sister is like."

"Well, she's got more hair, for one thing. She's actually something of a revolutionary, if you can believe that. Hosts a kind of salon for artists and philosophers and those sorts of people. Still too posh for little old me, but it means she's a good conversationalist, at least."

"Strange to think of a Winchester as a revolutionary," Steve comments idly. "To hear Charles talk, you'd think they'd all sprung fully formed from a safe deposit box rather than a normal birth. Still, I appreciate you putting your newfound skills at meddling to good use - I may even remember a few of the hordes I was introduced to."

Hawkeye laughs. "Yeah, pretty much the whole town made it out to see you - I won't even need to introduce you around now. And you held up well under the deluge. I'll make you up a review packet if you decide to stay."

"I think that's up to Dr. Pierce," Steve says. "But from what I've seen, this is pretty much exactly where I'm looking to end up."

"Well, I'm more than ready to hire you, Steve," Dr. Pierce claps a hand on his shoulder. "You're obviously qualified - and I think young Ms. Baxter would murder me if I didn't offer you the position."

Steve looks quizzically at Hawkeye.

"He means Millie," Hawkeye stage whispers. "The brunette with the freckles."

Dr. Pierce continues on, as if he hadn't been interrupted by his son. "We can hash out all the details later, but it's been a long day - how about some dinner?"

So they head back to the Pierce house and it's about what Steve pictured when he thought of Maine - small and wooden and painted a dark gray. The house is set among tall pines and surrounded by heaping drifts of snow. Behind the house, Steve can see the flat gray ocean where it crashes in white peaks against the craggy rocks. It's not a particularly inviting image, if he's being honest.

But the inside of the house is warm and cozy. They sit at a worn kitchen table and eat a hearty stew that warms Steve right down to his socks. And the evening whiles away with laughter and stories and cards. This. This is the kind of life Steve wants. Quiet, peaceful, and full of laughter.

Steve goes to bed in Hawkeye's old room - and isn't that just a hoot, getting that glimpse into Hawkeye's childhood - and Steve feels like he can rest here, in this house, in this little town in Maine.

Steve's gone up to bed already, but Hawkeye stays up, wanting a chance to catch up with his dad. They see each other infrequently enough that Hawkeye treasures every hour - letters and phone calls just aren't the same.

They sit by the fireplace in the darkened living room and Hawkeye talks about how things are at the clinic and how his friends are doing and about the knitting group he's joined - along with an anti-war protest group that he doesn't tell his dad about, not wanting to worry him, having already talked Charles into posting bail if necessary. Hawkeye's taken Sidney's advice about extending his social circle and it has helped him feel a little more connected to the people around him.

Hawkeye's dad listens attentively to all of it. But it seems like there's something on his mind. Hawkeye's content to sit in warm silence till his dad's ready to talk, but it's not long before he speaks up.

"Are you happy, Hawkeye?"

All this stuff with Steve must have made his dad a little unsure. After all, the parallels between the two of them are pretty obvious. Even if they're moving in opposite directions to find a new life.

"Yeah, Dad, I'm happy. I won't lie, the holidays were a little rough - just due to all the pressure and expectation around them, I think. But Sidney and I talked a little - just talked, he gives good non-psychiatric advice too - and that helped a lot. But I'm... I'm where I want to be, surrounded by a lot of the people I want to be around. And away from a lot of the people I don't want to be around - namely the United States Army."

Hawkeye's dad nods consideringly. "And John. Is John happy?"

"Yeah, Dad, Trapper's happy too."

"Good. That's good." A pause. "I was so worried about you, Hawkeye, you and all your friends you used to write me about. Comes of being a parent, I suppose. You never lose that fear that something will happen to your child and - and you won't be able to protect them. And there you were, across an ocean and smack dab in the middle of a war zone.

Then the war was over and you were coming home - after three years of worry, you were coming back to me. Safe and sound.

But you got hurt over there. All you boys did, you and John and Steve - Tommy. And there was nothing I could have done to prevent it, nothing I can do to fix it now. So I'm glad to hear that you've been able to mend things for yourselves."

Hawkeye leans forward to look his dad in the eye. "You've helped me more than I can say - both when I was over there and now that I'm back home. And you helped Trapper too, when he thought I was dead. And you're helping Steve right now." Hawkeye pauses. "I don't know that there's any fixing how I or Steve or Trapper got hurt. We're never going to be who we were before - but that doesn't mean that we can't be happy in who we are now."

"I love you, Ben, however you are."

"I love you too, Dad."

They fall back into a comfortable silence, Hawkeye enjoying the warmth of the fire and the familiarity of sitting here like this. He and his dad used to while away a lot of winter evenings in front of the fire, reading or listening to the radio or talking. But it's late, and Hawkeye is suddenly very tired, so he heads up to bed before too long.

#mash #piercintyre #fanfic archive #you can't cross the same river twice #chapter 16

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