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steddieworks · 1 year

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finally safe for me to fall - chapter 7

hi!! I'm so sorry for missing my usual update last Sunday, but I hope this chapter makes up for that! it's been through two different versions but i'm pretty happy with the final result!

read on ao3

Summary: The twins get sick, so Eddie takes care of them. But who will take care of Eddie? ... Steve will, of course.

Warnings for this chapter: swearing, non-explicit depictions of sickness/illness

Words: 9.1k

It’s a month into Eddie’s role as babysitter when something inevitably goes wrong.

It was only a matter of time, really. With the weather getting colder, all the kids at school seemed to have been coming down with one disease after another, whether it be a cold, the flu, or a stomach bug. Eddie had been incredibly diligent with passing out vitamins and allergy pills every morning before school, taking hand sanitizer with him to pick-up, and keeping them fed the healthiest foods possible.

And still, it wasn’t enough.

Eddie is humming to himself as he folds the last of the laundry, this time a load of the twins’ clothes, when the phone rings. He doesn’t think much of it as he answers, still in a rather pleasant mood, having done everything on his to-do list already for the day, and it’s only noon.

“Hello?” he says when he answers the phone, balancing it between his ear and shoulder.

“Eddie, honey?” Steve’s voice fills the line, and Eddie perks up immediately.

“Hi,” Eddie says around a little smile. “Uh… everything okay? You don’t normally call me during the day.”

“Well, actually, no,” Steve says with a sigh. “It’s nothing too bad. But the school just called and the twins are both sick. Ivy’s running a fever and Jazz has thrown up twice apparently.”

Eddie’s stomach sinks at the thought of his girls being sick. “Oh, god. I- I should’ve known! Jasmine didn’t finish her eggs this morning, and-”

Steve cuts him off with a gentle voice before he can spiral further. “Hon, it’s not your fault they’re sick. But I need you to go to the school and pick them up, okay? I have back-to-back meetings with investors from now until four, so I won’t be home until five at the earliest. I’m so sorry.”

It’s easy for Eddie to shrug that off. This is his responsibility, since, after all, it’s the very thing Steve pays him for. “No, of course, of course. I don’t mind at all. I’ll go grab them and take care of everything before you get home. They’ll be right as rain when you get here, okay?”

It sounds like Steve’s smiling when he replies, “thanks, Eddie. Let me know if you guys need anything, I can bring back something for dinner if you want.”

Eddie agrees to let him know before hanging up and grabbing his coat and his keys. Time to go get his kids and play mommy-nurse for an evening.

~~~

It’s worse than Eddie is expecting. Jasmine is so pale she favors Eddie more than her father, a fact Eddie ignores, lest he start thinking about how nice that would be, to have a child that looked like him. Ivy is nearly asleep in the nurse’s office, so drowsy with fever that she can barely walk. He takes Ivy out to the van first, buckling her in and checking that she’s alright before going back for Jasmine. He thanks the secretary and the school nurse profusely before heading outside, shushing Jasmine gently as he carries her to the car.

“I don’t feel good,” she cries against his shoulder.

“I know baby, I know. We’re going to get you all fixed up when we get home, though, okay?” He reassures, petting her hair as he gets her in the car, buckling her up to match her sister.

The drive back to the apartment is short but stressful, Eddie hyper-aware of any jarring movement that might make them toss their cookies, but luckily, they make it back home with no accidents. They’re both in varying stages of crying by the time they get upstairs, Eddie carrying Ivy with one arm while Jasmine trails after them, clutching desperately to Eddie’s hand. It’s a bit of a struggle, but they make it.

“Alright. Ivy, honey, we’ve gotta get you in a cool bath to get this fever down, okay? It’s not gonna feel very good at first, but I promise it’ll make you feel so much better,” Eddie explains as he carries her to Steve’s bathroom, since it has the nicer tub.

“I don’wanna,” she whines against his shoulder, her tears already soaking a sizeable patch into his shirt.

Eddie sighs. “Baby, I know. But if you’re a brave girl and take your bath, I’ll get you a treat when we’re finished, okay?”

Ivy sniffles, but nods.

Jasmine, who had followed them into the bathroom, says, “what about me?”

Eddie smiles at her as he sits on the edge of the bathtub and turns on the tap, testing the temperature before putting the plug down. “I didn’t forget about you, love. I don’t think your fever is as high as sissy’s, but as soon as I get her in the bath I’m gonna get the thermometer to check, okay? And if it is, you’ll need to take a cool bath too.”

Jasmine frowns, but nods. She sits on the closed lid of the toilet, staring down at her feet. Eddie bites his lip to hide the quiver there, because he truly hates the fact that these girls are so miserable and he can’t just wave his hand to put a stop to it. That just feels completely unfair.

“Alright, hon, let’s get you in the bath,” Eddie says, helping Ivy strip down to her underwear before helping her into the water.

She immediately lets out a cry, and Eddie’s omega cries back, so full of pain he almost feels sick himself. “Baby,” he says tearfully. “I know, I know it’s chilly.”

“It’s too cold,” Ivy cries, shaking her head. “It’s too cold, Mommy.”

Eddie doesn’t even register what she said at first, too wrapped up in trying to soothe her. When it hits him, he just feels even worse. “I know,” he says. He knows that it’s not actually that cold, he’d run the warm water far longer than he should have, if anything, but at least this way it must be working. “Can you be a very good girl and sit right here until I get back with the thermometer and some ginger ale for you guys to sip?”

Ivy doesn’t look happy about it, but she nods. “Y-yes,” she chatters.

Eddie offers her a small smile, brushing her hair back gently. “Very good. I’ll be right back, okay?”

She nods, and Jasmine does the same when Eddie checks in on her before leaving the room. He rushes to the twins’ bathroom, where he knows a thermometer lives in the medicine cabinet, and then he stops back by the kitchen to grab a can of ginger ale out of the fridge and a straw out of a drawer. It had been more of a purchase for himself than anyone else, as he got frequent nausea spells leading up to his period, but it was coming in very handy right now for sure.

When he gets back to the bathroom, the girls are talking quietly, but he can’t make out what they’re saying. He hears Jasmine mumble something that sounds like, “-wish he was, though,” before he steps through the door and they go quiet.

“Alright, Jazz, come here, honey,” Eddie says as he goes to sit back on the side of the bathtub, holding the freshly opened can of ginger ale out for Ivy to sip from while he gestures the thermometer at her sister.

Jasmine comes to stand beside him, obediently sticking her tongue out for him to place the thermometer underneath. The room is silent for a moment, except for the sipping sounds from Ivy, before the thermometer makes a quiet beeping noise. When he pulls it away, he frowns down at the tiny display screen.

“Is it very high?” Jasmine asks softly.

Eddie shakes his head. “Not too bad,” he says. “It’s at ninety-eight-point-four. If it gets above a hundred, we’ll need to take a cool bath, okay?” he tells her firmly.

She nods, then points to Ivy. “Can I have a sip of that?”

Eddie nods, checking that Ivy is finished before handing it over. He doesn’t figure it makes sense to have them stop sharing things now that they’re sick - whatever it is, they’ve both got it.

“Can I get out now?” Ivy asks quietly.

“Let me see if you still feel so warm,” Eddie says, leaning in and placing a hand on her forehead. She’s still a little warm, but not nearly as hot as she was when he picked her up. He nods, turning to gesture at the towels. “Yeah, honey. Jazz, will you hand me one of those? Thank you, love. Let’s get out, Ivy.”

Ivy stands on shaky legs, and Eddie gets her wrapped up as quickly as possible before taking both of them back to their own bedroom to find a suitable pair of pajamas for each of them. As soon as they’re dressed, Eddie directs them to get into bed.

“Can we…” Ivy starts, sounding a little timid.

Eddie quirks an eyebrow. “Can we do what?” he asks.

Ivy glances at her sister before looking up at Eddie, her eyes wide and watery with sickness. “Can we go snuggle in Daddy’s bed? He always lets us sleep in his bed when we’re sick.”

“Yeah,” Jasmine agrees. “Can we, please?”

Eddie hesitates. He hadn’t asked Steve for permission to do that, but… on the other hand… being around their father’s familiar scent would likely make them calmer, quicker to recover. He thinks that outweighs whatever weirdness he feels about it.

“Okay,” he agrees. “Come on, bring your stuffies and let’s go to his room.”

The girls cheer quietly, clearly relieved to be allowed to have this. Eddie is glad they asked, because he never would have let himself think of it personally. They gather up their favorite stuffed animals and Eddie marches them through the house to Steve’s room, and naturally, with his massive, tall bed, Eddie has to help them up.

“Alright, lay down, get comfy. I’m gonna go grab each of you a popsicle. Have you had lunch yet?”

They chorus a quiet “no,” but Eddie catches the way Jasmine wrinkles her nose. “I’m not hungry,” she admits.

Eddie nods. “Okay. Your tummies are probably too weak to handle anything much right now, anyway, but a popsicle will definitely give you enough sugar to keep you going, and the cold will help keep your fever down.”

The girls nod, and off Eddie goes, back to gather up popsicles, towels to hold them with so their little hands don’t get cold and sticky, and some crackers for them to nibble on when they get to feeling better. He has a feeling this will be a long evening.

~~~

“Eddie? Girls? I’m home!”

Steve’s voice rings through the apartment, dragging Eddie from his half-asleep state with a bleary blink of his eyes. He startles when he remembers where he is and what he’s doing, or, well- meant to be doing. The twins are passed out on either side of him, and he vaguely remembers how they got there. He brought them popsicles and as soon as she finished hers, Jasmine was passed out. Ivy took some coaxing to get to sleep, crying because she felt so bad. Eddie’s heart broke a million times over seeing how miserable she was, and he’d sort of unintentionally began to release calming pheromones, rubbing his cheek against the tops of their heads in an attempt to soothe. Try as he might, though, he could tell it wasn’t really working. After all, he’s not their mom, his omega pheromones aren’t what they’re familiar with.

Still, he tried. For nearly an hour he soothed them and hummed and tried to be what they needed until they fell asleep, and eventually, he drifted to sleep as well.

“In here,” Eddie calls back quietly, hoping not to wake the girls. He sits up slowly, brushing a hand over Ivy’s hair, checking her temperature with the back of his hand before turning to Jasmine to do the same.

“Oh,” Steve says from the door.

Eddie glances up with a sheepish smile. “Hi. I’m sorry about- all this. They wanted to sleep in here, and-“

Steve shakes his head, dropping his coat onto his dresser and toeing off his shoes before making his way to the bed. “No, it’s fine, Eddie, really. God, they really don’t feel well, do they?” He has the most devastated look on his face as he comes around to the side of the bed, stroking a hand over Jasmine’s hair like Eddie had just done. Steve glances up at him with a soft smile. “How are you feeling?”

Eddie shrugs. “I’m fine. Too soon to have caught anything from them, probably, but, um…” he debates on what he’s going to say next. “My immune system is usually sort of weak this time of month, so…” he watches Steve’s face carefully as he waits for it to click.

It takes a second, but when it does, Steve frowns. “Oh, Eds, why didn’t you tell me you were- what do you need?”

It makes him flush a little, the way Steve is immediately trying to take care of him- as if that’s even his job. “It hasn’t started yet. I’m cramping a little, but it probably won’t be bad until tomorrow. But I really don’t need anything, and I can still take care of the girls and everything.” Eddie offers him a sweet smile.

Steve’s frown only deepens when he hears that. “Well, sure, but who’s going to take care of you?”

Eddie gives him a look of surprise, unprepared to answer that. “Um…”

“Have you eaten anything today?” Steve asks, taking charge in that distinctly alpha manner that Eddie’s omega thrills at.

“I had breakfast with you guys, and then…” Eddie realizes with no small amount of surprise that he hasn’t actually eaten anything since then. “Oh. I guess that’s it. But I’m okay, though, really, I-“

Steve sighs deeply, his hands on his hips in this way that just screams disappointed parent. “Okay. Here’s what’s going to happen. I am going to go make you some dinner. You can lay here for as long as you like, but you need to try to eat a little bit before you go back to sleep.”

Eddie is already shaking his head, trying desperately not to appear as lazy as he’s feeling right now. “Oh, there’s no need, really, I’m-“

“Going to lay right there until I get back,” Steve says firmly, his narrowed eyes leaving no room for argument. His face softens for a moment and he reaches out to brush a strand of Eddie’s hair back. “Let me take care of you, honey. You’re taking such good care of the girls, so let me take care of you.”

And how is Eddie supposed to deny that face? He can’t. “Okay,” he finally says, voice soft. “Thanks, Steve.”

Steve just smiles, forever sweet and endlessly kind. “I’ll be right back. Gonna make some soup for you and the girls. I assume they haven’t eaten either?”

Eddie shakes his head. “No, just some popsicles, that’s all. They didn’t feel well enough to eat.”

Steve nods in understanding. “Alright. Well, sit tight. I’ll be right back.” He gives Eddie one last look, like he’s checking to make sure he’s going to stay put, and then leaves the room quickly.

Eddie sighs, laying back in bed as he listens to the tell-tale sounds of Steve putting together some food. It’s a casual kind of domesticity, the kind that Eddie has been wistful for ever since he presented as an omega. He smiles as Jasmine rolls over in her sleep, curling up against his side with a sleepy noise. Normally he’d be feeling a little sorry for himself, wistful for things that don’t truly belong to him, but today he lets himself be content. He closes his eyes and pretends that these are his pups, and that his mate is in the kitchen making food for them, and even allows himself to think of Steve’s bed as his nest. It’s a dangerous daydream, one he knows will probably only hurt him more in the long run, but he lets himself have it for now.

He doesn’t realize he drifted off to sleep until a soft voice is coaxing him awake.

“Eddie, honey? Wake up, I’ve got some food and water for you.” Steve’s voice is like a familiar friend, and Eddie unintentionally curls close to the gentle hand in his hair. Steve coos, and it’s the sweet sound, more than anything else, that wakes Eddie up.

He startles away from the warmth of Steve’s hand, blinking blearily up at him. “Huh?” he mumbles, rubbing at his eyes. “Shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to go back to sleep. It’s just so… warm,” Eddie apologizes, a little pathetically.

Steve is smiling down at him, a broad, pleased thing that just makes Eddie’s heart race. “It’s okay. Can you sit up for a few minutes? I brought you some soup and some ice water.”

Eddie nods, shifting gently to sit up against the headboard, absentmindedly reaching out to stroke through Ivy’s hair where she’s snuggled in against his side. “Want me to wake them up too?” He asks as he watches Steve stir a bowl of soup on the bedside table.

Steve shakes his head. “Eat first, and then we’ll wake them up. The soup’s still on the stove, so it’ll stay warm.” He cradles the bowl with a tea towel, handing it to Eddie carefully. “Be careful, it’s really hot,” he warns softly.

It’s silly, but for some reason, the thoughtful gesture almost makes Eddie tear up. He doesn’t think he’s had soup brought to him in bed since he was a tiny child, before his mother died. His uncle Wayne probably would’ve if Eddie had let him, but Eddie was more the “suffer in silence” type when it came to illnesses. He’s not sure why it feels so normal, so right, to let Steve baby him like this while he’s sick, but it does. It doesn’t make him cringe or feel helpless like it probably would with someone else, it just makes him feel… loved.

His face must be flushed with the absurdity of that thought, and Steve frowns at him from where he’s perched at the edge of the mattress. “Are you alright?” he asks.

Eddie nods, slurping at the hot chicken noodle soup to hide his face. “‘M fine,” he mumbles into the spoon.

Steve’s eyebrows furrow, and before Eddie can flinch away, Steve’s hand is coming up to feel his forehead. “You don’t feel like you’re running a fever, but your face is red…” he says, looking perplexed.

Eddie shrugs, goes in for another slurp of the soup because this shit is delicious. “Probably just, uh… steam from the soup?” he suggests lamely.

Apparently it’s not too lame, because Steve just nods in understanding. “Yeah, that makes sense,” he agrees, although it really doesn’t. “Here, have a sip of your water. I’ll go grab some pain medicine in just a second.”

Steve holds the glass up, nudging the straw around for Eddie to sip from, and Eddie feels like he’s blushing even harder with the way Steve is staring at his mouth as he sucks on the straw. He pulls away, clearing his throat. “You really don’t have to do all of this,” Eddie says, avoiding Steve’s gaze.

“And you really don’t have to fight me on it every time,” Steve counters lightly. When Eddie looks at him, though, he’s got a pained look in his eyes. “Sweetheart, I really don’t mind. I…” He looks down at where Jasmine has suddenly shifted in her sleep, rolling over towards Eddie, burrowing her head into his side to mirror her sister. Steve smiles at her, his gaze flicking up to Eddie’s. “I like taking care of you. Maybe it’s just some alpha, hetero-normative bullshit, but…” Steve shrugs. “I like that I can… you know, provide something for you.”

His face is probably red enough to match Eddie’s at this point, and something about the sentiment, or the dual embarrassment, makes Eddie smile. “Okay,” he concedes. If Steve wants to do this, Eddie is going to let him. He can’t think of a good reason why he shouldn’t, besides the obvious issue of his pesky little feelings, but really that’s not that important. They’re under control. Really, they are.

“I’ll be right back,” Steve says after a few moments, standing and making his way to the bathroom. A confused noise traps itself in Eddie’s throat, and he has to hide his face once again when Steve glances over his shoulder at him. “Just gonna grab some ibuprofen,” Steve reassures.

Eddie nods. “Okay.”

He eats his soup slowly, vaguely aware of the cramping in his lower stomach, a sure sign of his upcoming monthly cycle. He’s luckier than most omegas, though. His cycle has never been as miserable as he’s often heard described by his omega friends, usually just two or three days of bleeding and some cramps, nothing like the puking and migraine-filled periods he’s heard about. Eddie is grateful for this for a number of reasons, the main one being, of course, that he has no real need for cycle-management birth control, which he’s heard can make heats more erratic as a side effect. He’s incredibly thankful that’s not a problem he has to deal with.

“Here,” Steve says, returning from the bathroom with a small handful of pills. “I don’t know how many you usually take, but here’s four.”

Eddie smiles at him and holds out his bowl of soup so they can trade for a moment. “I usually only take two at a time,” he says as he plucks two of the tablets out of Steve’s hand. “Thanks,” he tacks on before he pops them in his mouth, reaching for the glass of water that Steve is already holding out for him.

Steve watches him with a small smile, handing the bowl back as soon as Eddie’s done with the medicine. “Are you feeling very bad yet?” He asks, perching himself on the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb Jasmine.

Eddie shakes his head. “No, not yet. It’ll probably kick in sometime tonight or in the morning. Getting a head start on it with the medicine and stuff really helps,” he says, glancing up at Steve with a sheepish, but grateful, smile.

“I’m glad,” Steve says, reaching out and brushing a hand through Eddie’s hair. “I can’t stand the idea of you being in pain.”

And there it is, once again. Steve saying something so impossibly sweet and caring, something he can’t possibly mean. Eddie has half a mind to call him out on it, but instead he just smiles and rolls his eyes. “Well, don’t worry about that. I feel fine, really. Besides, I have this Harrington-special soup, however could I be sick if I have that?” he jokes, grinning at Steve.

Steve laughs quietly, considerate of his sleeping daughters. “Oh, of course, yeah. Should I send your compliments to the chef?” He’s got such a flirtatious look in his eye, one that Eddie really can’t help but flirt right back with.

“Oh for sure. Let the chef know that I give him a five-star review, ten out of ten, would recommend.”

“I’ll pass the message along,” Steve says, still playing along. He drops his hand to Eddie’s knee then, rubbing circles into it with his thumb. “Any other messages for the chef?” He says, his voice light, even as his eyes dart away from Eddie’s as if he’s… nervous?

Eddie pauses, not sure how to respond in the face of what seems to be actual, genuine flirting. He knows what he’d like to say, what he’s wanted to say since day one, but as for what’s appropriate…

“Can you two be quiet?” A little voice suddenly interrupts Eddie’s entire train of thought, nearly making him spill his soup in his surprise.

Steve and Eddie both glance down at Ivy, who has lifted her head to glare at them both. “‘M tryin’ to sleep over here!” she grouches.

Eddie has to bite his lip to stifle his laugh, and Steve appears to be having the same struggle beside him. “You’re right, honey, we’re sorry,” Steve appeases her gently. “Are you hungry, Ivy? Could you eat some soup?”

At that, Ivy lifts her head for real, blinking her eyes open blearily. “Soup?”

~~~

They make the twins get out of bed to eat, because they both know they’re just asking for disaster if they give two six-year-olds bowls of hot soup on a mattress. Steve insists that Eddie can just stay in bed and rest while he deals with the twins himself, but Eddie’s not having it. He finishes his soup quickly and follows them into the kitchen, making the girls a glass of ginger ale each while Steve ladles their soup into their bowls. They work together in tandem, never bumping into each other unless it’s intentional, and when they’ve got the girls everything they need, Eddie feels a sudden wave of exhaustion wash over him.

“I’m gonna go sit down for a minute,” he tells Steve, his voice a little weak.

Steve, who had just been explaining to Jasmine that yes, she would feel better if she ate some soup, looks up with concern etched into his eyebrows. “Are you okay?”

Eddie almost rolls his eyes at the outpouring of worry and concern that Steve always seems to have for him, but he refrains. “Yeah, just feel kind of light-headed all of a sudden.”

“Go lay down,” Steve suggests, his voice noticeably lacking any alpha-lilted order that would take away Eddie’s ability to choose for himself. When Eddie starts to shake his head in protest, Steve gives him a look, dropping his hands to his hips in a clear picture of disapproval. “Honey, I’ve got this. Just go lay down for a bit. We’ll be back in there as soon as we’re done.”

It takes Eddie’s brain a second to catch up. Steve wants him to- “You want me to… your room?” He stumbles through the question, staring at Steve in surprise.

Steve looks vaguely confused for a minute. “Well, yeah,” he says, like it’s obvious. “I can’t very well take care of you if you’re on the other side of the apartment,” he says with a little smile.

Eddie feels his face flush, so he nods and turns to go back to Steve’s room. He may be a little bit embarrassed and ashamed to be sleeping in an alpha’s bed when they’re not even mated, but the biggest part of him is thrilled. Steve’s scent is so strong in this room, stronger than Eddie has ever gotten it, and he doesn’t stop himself from snuggling into the sheets, shoving his face into the pillow he’s almost positive is Steve’s favorite, the scent of alpha cloying his senses. It’s perfect, and his omega is practically purring with joy.

Apparently, he’s sleepier than he’d thought, because the next thing he knows, he’s waking up to something pressing against his back. He must make a noise of some sort, because the next thing he knows, a soft voice is shushing him.

“It’s just me, babe.” Steve’s hand strokes over his hair, and Eddie presses himself into the touch helplessly.

“Where’s - girls?” Eddie mumbles, turning his head and blinking, trying to find Steve.

“They’re here,” Steve assures him.

Eddie sits up a little, his panicked heart settling a little when he lays eyes on the twins. Jasmine is pressed close to his side, her gaze focused on the television on the other side of the room, which Eddie realizes now is playing a movie on a near-silent volume. Ivy is on the other side of Jasmine, holding her stuffed animal to her chest and looking up at Eddie with a little smile.

“Did you take a nap?” She asks sweetly.

Eddie smiles at her. “Yeah, I did. Didn’t mean to, though,” he says, glancing over at Steve. “Was I asleep for very long?”

Steve shakes his head. “Not at all. The girls finished their soup, I took their temperatures again and gave them some medicine, and they wanted to come snuggle.” He smiles over at his daughters, and Eddie’s heart does that stupid clenching thing it wants to do whenever he sees the love Steve always lavishes onto his kids. He wishes, selfishly, that it was lavished onto him as well. Then he feels guilty for thinking that, when Steve is clearly already doing so much to take care of him as it is. He should just be grateful for that, rather than be selfish and wish for more.

“Daddy? Can we sleep in here tonight?” Ivy asks suddenly, interrupting Eddie’s little mental pity-party.

Eddie glances up to see Steve’s reaction. The man smiles at his daughter, nodding easily. “Of course. We’re overdue for a slumber party, I think.”

Ivy smiles, then turns that sweet little puppy dog gaze onto Eddie. “You’ll stay too, right, Eddie?” she asks, and if she wasn’t so precious, Eddie would probably be more annoyed by the coyness. Maybe he’s crazy, but he’s almost positive she has a knowing glint in her eye, like she knows what this is doing to Eddie’s heart.

“Um…” he says awkwardly, glancing up at Steve uncertainly.

Steve smiles, an eerily similar expression to the one Ivy wears. “I don’t mind,” he says softly. His hand comes up to brush through Eddie’s bangs, and Eddie can’t help it when he tilts into the touch. “How about you go get your pajamas on? Then it’ll be a proper sleepover.”

Eddie flushes, but nods. Really, how could he turn him down with a face like that? “Okay, I’ll be right back,” he says, rolling off the bed with shaky limbs. He takes a second to stretch from where he’d gone a bit stiff, and he can’t help but smirk a little when he catches Steve watching him. “Alright. Pajamas. Girls, do you need anything from your room?” he asks.

“Can you bring me my pillow?” Ivy asks.

Jasmine lights up at that, finally tuning into the conversation. “Ooh, yeah, can you bring mine too? And my fluffy blanket?”

Eddie laughs, but nods. “Sure, I’ll-”

Steve interrupts him then. “You just go get dressed, honey, I’ll grab their stuff. Any other requests, ladies?” He’s got his hands on his hips, once again in that decidedly parental pose, and Eddie tries to hide his smirk.

The twins confirm that all they want is their pillows and blankets, and Steve follows Eddie out of his bedroom. “I really opened a can of worms with that one,” Eddie says, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Sorry about that.”

Steve just laughs, shaking his head. “No, it’s fine. It’ll kind of be like making a nest,” he says thoughtfully.

And of course he has no idea what that’s going to do to Eddie’s heart. How is he supposed to predict that those words will make Eddie’s chest clench and his head swim with images of a domestic fantasy where he’s allowed to have that?

He tries not to indicate just how much those words sting. “Huh. Yeah, I guess so,” Eddie mumbles quietly. He gestures pointlessly at his bedroom. “I’m gonna… um…”

Steve nods, but there’s a fissure of concern under the carefully neutral mask on his face. “Okay. I’ll grab the girls’ things quickly.”

Eddie just nods, stepping into his room and going to rifle through his pajama drawer, almost on auto-pilot as he changes out of his jeans and into the soft flannel bottoms Steve had bought him, along with their matching shirt. He forces himself not to think about the idea of making a nest with Steve, something he doesn’t deserve and will never have anyway. He’s never even had a proper nest, not really. The one partner he’d had… well, they hadn’t wanted him to have a nest, even if it was something he technically needed. So his pipe dream of having one with Steve is stupid - Eddie doesn’t even know how to do it properly.

He tries to push that thought out of his head, but from there his mind spirals to his other omega failings thus far. He’s old for an unmated, childless omega, and even though he’s helping rear Steve’s pups, he’s not their mother. Fuck, he couldn’t even comfort them properly with his scent - something any decent omega should be able to do on some basic level for any pup, even if they’re not biologically related. And Eddie can’t even do that right! What a poor fucking excuse for an omega. What a lousy, pathetic-

“Eddie?” Steve’s panicked voice comes from the doorway, jolting Eddie out of his nervous, near-manic state. He hadn’t realized it until now, but he’s breathing hard, probably not far from hyperventilating. “Honey, what’s wrong? You smell-”

And Eddie can’t cope with the idea that Steve just knows how fucked-up he is. How pathetic. So of course he has to go and prove it by bursting into tears.

“I- I’m sorry,” Eddie chokes through quiet sobs, reaching up to cover his mouth in a poor attempt to muffle the sound. “I…”

Steve drops the handful of bedding bundled up in his arms, stepping into Eddie’s space with no hesitation. “Oh, come here, babe,” he says, wrapping Eddie up in his arms easily.

Of course Eddie, the pathetic omega he is, nearly falls into the embrace, his face immediately tucking into Steve’s neck and breathing in his scent deeply. He can’t help it, really, but he’s aware that that’s probably a shitty excuse, no matter which way he twists it in his mind. “I’m sorry,” he says, a bit more firmly after a minute of sniffling. “I… I don’t know what came over me.”

Steve strokes his back, his hand leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. “Okay. You seemed fine a minute ago, but then your scent… it got so sour all of a sudden, like… well, like an omega in distress. Are you… Like physically speaking, are you okay?”

Eddie appreciates how carefully Steve phrases that. “Yeah,” he answers, because that’s technically the truth. He should probably pull himself out of Steve’s grip now that he’s admitted that he’s fine, but when he goes to retract himself, Steve is not having it, holding him even tighter instead. “I’m fine, Steve, really, I just…” He doesn’t want to lie to Steve, so he settles for a half-truth. “I just started thinking about how earlier, when I tried to calm the girls down, I… well I couldn’t. Not like…” He sniffles again, the tears welling back up in his eyes.

“Not like what?” Steve asks softly, petting Eddie’s hair.

“Not like their mother could,” Eddie whispers after a moment of silence. “I tried- I really did! But… I don’t think my scent will ever be a good enough substitute for the real thing,” he admits. He’s ashamed to bring this up to Steve, in a way. He’s sure there’s some trauma associated with the absence of the twins’ mother, and he doesn’t want to drag Steve down with him during his breakdown, but he also doesn’t want to lie about how he’s feeling, not when it concerns the kids, at least.

“Well… You did everything you could. And honey, I’m just thrilled that you love them that much- that you would share that with them? That you would try to scent-soothe kids who aren’t biologically yours? Eddie, that means the world to me.” Steve pulls away just a bit, finally reclaiming his personal space when Eddie peels himself away from his neck. “Okay?”

And while that sounds nice, it feels like… like a gesture of placation. Eddie feels the tears swell again. “I’m sorry,” he says, his voice cracking. “I’m a bad omega.” His voice comes out a sob, and he tries to pull away from Steve fully, intending to go wallow in self-pity on his own, but Steve pulls him into a crushing embrace, tucking him back against himself with ease.

“Eddie, no,” Steve says, his voice firm in a way that almost suggests anger. “You are not a bad omega. “I can’t even believe… Don’t even say that, okay? You…” Steve’s voice cracks then, and Eddie realizes belatedly that Steve is shaking. “You’ve been so good to my pups, Eddie. You’re such a good omega. Such a good mom to them.”

And fuck if that doesn’t make Eddie’s omega sing. Still, he has to choke down his sobs to even respond to it, swiping at his eyes with a weak hand. “Really?”

Steve kisses his forehead. It’s a completely unmistakable press of lips to skin, and Eddie nearly melts against Steve at the touch. “Of course. I can’t imagine anyone else doing a better job with them, Eddie. They love you, and they can tell how much you love them. So… biology or not… you are the closest thing to a mom they’ve got. And I won’t hear any more of this “bad omega” bullshit, understand?” His voice goes hard and stern, and pathetically, Eddie feels a little turned on by it. “I’m serious, Eds. I won’t have you tearing yourself down about your abilities, okay?”

Eddie nods. He’s not promising that he’ll never feel that way again, but he certainly won’t go around voicing it in Steve’s presence anymore. “Okay,” he says quietly.

Steve gives him one last forehead kiss, a long, lingering thing that makes Eddie’s skin flush. Then, he steps back. “Alright. Grab your pillow or whatever else you need to sleep with, and let's go. We’ve got a nest to build with the kiddos, and we’re missing out on all the good snuggles.” He’s got a smile on his face, but Eddie can tell it’s somewhat strained. He curses himself in his head for making Steve’s life more difficult, for making him feel like he’s got to be some sort of emotional support for Eddie’s little meltdowns. Still, Eddie keeps that self-loathing to himself, as he’s pretty sure Steve won’t approve of it.

Eddie grabs his favorite pillow off his bed, then turns around, giving Steve a shaky smile and following him down the hall. “Sorry about all that,” Eddie murmurs as they’re walking through the kitchen. “I think it’s just, like… My emotions are scattered this time of month, you know? I’d like to think I’m not always that much of a mess.”

Steve glances at him over his shoulder, and this time his smile is more relaxed, more genuine. “Honey, I promise it doesn’t bother me. It’s normal to have emotions. Bottling them up until you have a breakdown is definitely a problem, but we can work on that.”

Before Eddie can disagree, or say anything that makes him sound less like an emotionally stunted mess, they’re stepping back into Steve’s room, where the twins loudly complain that they thought they’d died or something. Eddie smiles to himself as he climbs up onto the bed in the face of their whining.

“We didn’t die,” Steve says, rolling his eyes as he hands out their pillows and blankets, helping them get comfy.

“Were you two smoochin’ or somethin’?” Ivy asks, narrowing her eyes at Steve.

Eddie nearly chokes on his own spit. Thank god he was sitting down and wasn’t drinking anything. His eyes, undoubtedly wide and panicked at even the accusation, flit quickly to gauge Steve’s reaction.

Steve, who is looking back at him already and appearing to be hiding a smile, or maybe a smirk. “No, you nosy girl. We were not "smoochin’ or somethin’". Mind your business.”

Ivy shrugs, snuggling under her blankie and allowing it when Steve climbs onto the bed beside her and opens his arm for her. She cuddles up to him and says, “I was just asking! You guys were gone for ages!”

Steve rolls his eyes, sending a sly wink in Eddie’s direction. “Well, I can see you’re feeling much better, missy, since apparently you can interrogate me on my whereabouts.”

The conversation moves naturally to what the meaning of the word “interrogate” is (“they’re six, Steve, of course they don’t know what that means!”) and why they can’t stay up all night watching movies (“I have work in the morning, and if you guys are just so sick, you should go to sleep. Oh, you feel better? Then you’ll go to school tomorrow!”)

By the time the twins are actually asleep, Eddie is exhausted and not far behind. Steve flicks the lamp off on his side of the bed, casting the room in almost pitch-darkness, save for the soft blue light of the television.

“You want me to turn that off?” Steve asks, his voice soft.

Eddie shakes his head, then remembers that Steve probably can’t see him. “No, it’s fine. The girls need a nightlight anyway, right?”

“Right,” Steve says, and sounds like he’s smiling. “You feeling okay?”

Eddie rolls over onto his side facing Steve, and despite the fact that they’ve got the twins between them, he feels impossibly close to him. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “I don’t feel like I’ve caught whatever crud the girls have, at least.”

There’s a ruffling noise, like Steve is nodding his head against the pillow. “Your period will probably start tomorrow though, right?” He doesn’t sound embarrassed to ask about it, and the thought that he actually cares about the answer makes Eddie feel warm.

“Yeah,” Eddie says. “There was enough cramping today that it wouldn’t surprise me if it started at some point in the night, to be honest.”

Steve makes a soft, sympathetic sound. “That sucks, babe,” he says. Eddie tries not to blush at the pet name; he’s noticed Steve sprinkling that one into conversation more and more frequently, and as much as he tries to convince himself that it’s “unprofessional,” he likes it too much to say anything. “Wake me up if it does, okay? I can go get you medicine, or a drink, or whatever you need.”

Eddie grins into the pillow, is grateful that the darkness of the room gives him some cover, and prays that the television screen isn’t highlighting the stupid smile on his face. “Okay,” he says, even though he knows that he would never, in a million years, wake Steve up for something like that. Still, the sentiment that Steve would take care of him if he did? That’s enough to make Eddie’s whole body feel like it’s been dipped in molten lava.

“You need anything right now?” Steve asks after a couple minutes of silence.

“Mm. No, not that I can think of,” Eddie replies. Jasmine makes a snuffling sound in her sleep, and Eddie reaches out to feel her forehead. “Jazz’s fever seems to be gone.” He reaches out to check Ivy’s as well, and in some shitty rom-com move, his and Steve’s hands brush over her head. “Oops,” Eddie says on a quiet laugh.

“Ivy’s is gone, too,” Steve says, and Eddie can tell he’s smiling.

Eddie yawns. “Good,” he mumbles. “Hated seeing them sick. Glad they’re feeling better.” His eyes flutter close, and he knows he’s gonna be out within a few minutes.

“They had the best mommy taking care of them,” Steve says, his voice so soft and far-away that it could be a dream.

“Mm,” Eddie hums in response, just in case it was real.

“Goodnight, Eddie. Sweet dreams.”

Eddie’s out within seconds.

~~~

When Eddie wakes up, he’s immediately aware of two things.

One, it’s still very much nighttime, given the darkness behind the curtains and the sleeping bodies next to him.

Two, he’s hurting. Bad.

“Oh, fuck,” he whimpers, curling up on his side, facing away from the bed and cradling his stomach with one arm. At least he was right about what time it would probably start, he thinks to himself bitterly as he waits for this cramp to subside.

He doesn’t think he’s making all that much noise until he hears a soft voice behind him.

“Eds? Honey, you okay?”

Of course it’s Steve. Of course Eddie woke him up by accident. God dammit.

“Yeah,” Eddie grits out through his teeth. “I’m fine. You can go back to sleep.”

Eddie feels the bed shift, and he squeezes his eyes shut right as the movement sends a wave of nausea through him. The beginning is always the worst for him, and he tries to frame it like this in his head, so that it doesn’t seem so never-ending. Sometimes that sort of thing works. This is not one of those times.

“Here,” Steve’s soft voice is now directly in front of him, making Eddie jump a little. “Shh, it’s just me, babe. It’s a heating pad. Can I lift up your shirt?”

Eddie can only nod and whimper, curled up in the fetal position as his body spasms with pain. “Sorry,” he mumbles as Steve slides the heating pad under his shirt and turns it on a medium setting.

“For what?” Steve asks, looking confused. The television screen is washing him out, but Eddie can still make out his features, even in the weak light.

“Waking you up,” Eddie says, grits his teeth as his stomach clenches. “Didn’t mean to.”

“Babe, I told you to wake me up so I could help you,” Steve says, lightly chastising. “I’m gonna go grab you a ginger ale and some crackers. Do you think you could take some more ibuprofen?”

Eddie nods. “I could take some morphine to the neck if you had any,” he jokes weakly.

Steve laughs quietly, brushing his hand through Eddie’s hair. “Noted, I’ll see what I can do. I’ll be right back.”

Although he hates to see him go, Eddie is relieved that Steve is going to find some things that will hopefully bring him a little bit of relief. He’s hurting badly enough that he’s not even worried about being annoying or getting on Steve’s nerves with his neediness, which is a true testament to how bad he feels. Eddie squeezes his eyes shut and tries to breathe deeply, hoping that might distract his body from the cramping pain.

“Alright, I’ve got crackers, drugs, and ginger ale,” Steve murmurs softly once he comes back into the room. “Can you sit up for just a minute?”

Eddie nods, pushing himself up and leaning heavily against the headboard. Steve passes him a cracker and watches him as he eats it. Eddie struggles to swallow around the dryness, but Steve prompts him to take a sip of ginger ale, which helps it go down. They repeat this process three or four times before Steve finally hands him some medicine. “Thanks,” Eddie murmurs before he takes it.

Steve’s holding the can of ginger ale for Eddie in one hand while his other travels up to cup Eddie’s jaw. Eddie nearly chokes on the pills at the closeness, the intimacy, of the move, but catches himself just in time.

“I’m sorry you don’t feel well,” Steve whispers.

He’s so close. Their faces are only inches apart, and if Eddie holds very still, he’s almost positive he can feel the warmth of Steve’s breath over his face. And in this liminal space in the dark, Eddie craves…

“It’s okay,” Eddie whispers back, like they’re swapping secrets. He watches the way Steve’s eyelashes flutter softly and yearns for something he can’t have, something he feels guilty for even wanting.

Steve’s thumb is swiping over the line of Eddie’s jaw so gently, back and forth, back and forth. And Eddie knows that he’s seconds away from doing something very, very stupid. “Eddie-“ Steve breathes, like he can read his mind. His eyes are intense, and even in the dark, Eddie catches the way they flicker between holding his gaze and staring at his lips.

Subconsciously, Eddie’s tongue darts out to wet his lips, Steve’s gaze tracking every movement.

It’s like time slows down for a moment.

Softly, quiet enough that Eddie could honestly be imagining it, Steve whispers, “oh, fuck.”

At the same time, his hand finally takes a firmer hold of Eddie’s face, tilting his chin up just so.

Steve leans in, and Eddie is certain his heart has stopped working altogether when he feels the barest brush of-

“Steve,” Eddie forces himself to say.

This is wrong.

“Yes?” Steve breathes, and his lips brush against Eddie’s with the word. If he just leaned in a bit more-

“We can’t,” Eddie replies. The words hurt, god they hurt. He’s just a centimeter or two away from getting everything he’s ever wanted, but of course he has to go and ruin it for himself.

Steve jerks back like he’s been burned, his face frozen in something like confusion or hurt. “Fuck, Eddie I’m sorry, I didn’t- I thought…” Steve shakes his head, and Eddie notices that his hands are shaking as well as he goes to set down the can of ginger ale. “I’m sorry,” Steve repeats.

With that, he stands and retreats to the bathroom, leaving Eddie sitting there staring at the television and hating himself for making Steve look so crestfallen.

Which lasts about five seconds before Eddie thinks, fuck that.

He’s careful as he climbs out of Steve’s massive bed, and he feels slightly unhinged as he walks quickly and quietly over to the bathroom. Steve had left the door open a crack, and through that, Eddie can see him braced against the sink, breathing deep, heaving breaths. Eddie slips in silently, gently pressing the door closed behind him.

Steve’s head snaps up, meeting Eddie’s gaze through the mirror. “Eddie, I’m really sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking, honestly, and I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I guess I thought-“

Eddie doesn’t let him finish that thought. He crosses the small space between them while Steve talks, and as soon as he’s close enough, he reaches out to touch. One of his hands finds a gentle grip on Steve’s hip, while the other goes further up, cupping Steve’s jaw in an imitation of the way he’d held Eddie only moments before.

He doesn’t overthink it. He doesn’t think at all, honestly. Eddie just closes his eyes and leans in, pressing his lips to Steve’s with a gentleness he didn’t even know himself to be capable of.

He doesn’t drag it out. He wants to- God, he wants to slide his tongue inside and bite and suck until Steve’s lips are wet and pink, but he doesn’t do that. Steve’s mouth is soft and warm and perfect, but Eddie doesn’t even give him a chance to reciprocate before he’s pulling away. He doesn’t go far, resting their foreheads together, his eyes still closed.

“We shouldn’t do this again,” Eddie murmurs.

Steve makes an affronted noise, and Eddie knows he’s about to protest. He doesn’t give him a chance to do that, either.

“I’m serious,” Eddie says quietly. “I work for you, Steve. And… and it just wouldn’t be right. But I couldn’t…” Eddie laughs once, humorless, before pulling back and looking at Steve. He knows the smile he wears is sarcastic and sad at best. “I didn’t want you thinking that I didn’t want you to. And… and I’m selfish. I just wanted to know…” he trails off, sighing.

Steve looks devastated. There’s no other word for the look on his face. His eyes are glassy and downcast, and he sucks in his bottom lip, and Eddie nearly winces at the way his teeth dig into the plush pink skin of his lips. “Yeah,” he says, despondent. The cloying, rotten scent of an alpha in distress is filling the air, and Eddie tries to hold his breath. He knows part of that scent is probably his own, their designations proving, as always, that they can never fully hide how they feel.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says, and he knows both of them can hear how little he means it. “I probably shouldn’t have…”

Steve gives him a sad little smile. “I’m glad you did,” he murmurs. “I wanted… I wanted to know how you tasted, too.” He says the words Eddie couldn’t get out himself, and Eddie knows he’s going to be thinking about the way Steve looked when he said that for weeks, maybe even years.

It makes it worse, of course. Knowing that Steve wants him like that, finally having that confirmation. It’s still not exactly what Eddie wants- it’s not the pipe dream of a family and an alpha who wants to claim him and give him pups, but it’s something. And Eddie honestly isn’t sure which part hurts more- knowing that Steve wants him sexually, or knowing that they can’t have that.

“God,” Eddie groans, pulling away. “I- I’m sorry. I know I just made things… difficult.”

Steve is already shaking his head. “You didn’t. I’m the one who sort of… started all this. And you’re right, I shouldn’t have done that. I know it’s…” he sighs, sags back against the sink and runs a shaky hand through his hair. “Definitely inappropriate, given the circumstances.”

Eddie nods, chewing his lip nervously. He still kind of feels like he did something wrong, even though Steve doesn’t seem particularly mad about it. “Right,” Eddie says quietly, trying desperately to fill the silence between them. “Can we maybe… just not talk about this?”

Steve looks a little offended at first, but his face clears and he nods, looking away. “Yeah, that’s probably for the best,” he agrees.

And yeah, that’s not great to hear. Some part of Eddie thought that maybe Steve would argue, would fight for him. Which is ridiculous, and stupid, to expect. “Right,” Eddie repeats. “I-“

They’re interrupted by a sound in the other room, which Eddie is secretly very, very grateful for.

“Daddy?” Ivy’s confused voice calls from his bedroom.

Steve closes his eyes for a second, sighing deeply. When he opens them, Eddie offers him a weak smile. “Duty calls,” he jokes lightly.

“Yeah,” Steve says with a little smile in return. As he steps around Eddie, he reaches out and squeezes his hip. A little surprised breath, almost a gasp, sneaks past Eddie’s lips at that, and Steve gives him a sad look of repentance. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs.

Eddie doesn’t know what he’s apologizing for. Still, he nods, and watches him go, forcing himself to pretend that his heart isn’t in his throat, his ribs aching around the empty space in his chest.

#steddie #steve harrington and eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #alpha steve harrington #omega eddie munson #single dad steve harrington #babysitter eddie munson #alpha beta omega dynamics #abo dynamics #finally safe for me to fall #fsfmtf #the twins get sick in this one #original harrington children

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wetbloodworm · 1 year

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haley talked about a thing last night in call and i was jazzed then and i'm jazzed now

for the zenith-in-fallen concept, ivan having an Issue with zenith being there because his whole THING is keeping the planes in order. i LOVE that and i don't necessarily have a whole lot to add here but i wanted this written down somewhere i can see it again instead of this only being a conversation we had out loud. i have swiss cheese brain i can't be trusted to remember this if it's not written down. i can't be trusted to remember this if it IS written down but at least i can come back to it fhsdkfjsd

i rolled a religion check on my lvl 10 sheet for zenith to see what the chances are of him having any idea of who ivan is as a god. he rolled a 19! which feels about right, his intelligence isn't super high but he HAS done a lot of looking into how the planes work in his quest to come to the material plane. once coming to this one and learning how to read he's also been researching more as he has the time to get more understanding, both for fun and also to see if there are any quicker ways for him to get the rest of him over here instead of just his avatar. i wouldn't control all of what zenith knows but a 19 with ivan being a fairly obscure god makes me think that zenith might at least know that there's some god of the planes that maybe he has to be a little wary of? doesn't know a lot of details, but there's at least one god out there who isn't going to like what he's doing? that feels reasonable to me. wouldn't recognize ivan in the portrait in mel's house even a little, wouldn't immediately assume the god they're meeting is the One, but once he's pinged onto the fact that ivan is onto him like fucking INSTANTLY (rolled a 22 insight check just now lol) he might have his suspicions. especially if they get the conversation we had in fallen where ivan explains a little bit about his role. that conversation being had while ivan is making direct eye contact with zenith and zenith is just SWEATING

EITHER WAY at the least, ivan knows what zenith is and where he's from, zenith knows ivan is a god and that he suspects him. zenith would be on extra good behavior around ivan, which both means trying very hard to appear human and also just... being a good kid dfhjdfk one part 'THERE'S NO REASON TO SUSPECT ME' and one part 'if you can't be convinced otherwise, there's at least no reason to view me as a threat'. yes i'm here illegally but i'm not doing anything WRONG. i'm just vibin' and making friends and saving the world. i'm just a little guy! no need to worry about me and what i'm doing.

god also zenith internally like 'if i save the world can they still kick me out?? surely not. people like people who save the world. maybe that gives me immunity?? i'll have to ask the raven queen about that. can you talk to your friend.'

also a note for my reference, haley commented that if zenith HAD been my pc that ivan would've become his personal villain and god i fucking love this whole thing so much. i love this.

on a related note for this whole zenith-in-fallen concept, i feel like he'd be more likely to come out to the party about what he is voluntarily. partly because if mel knows what he is right off the bat, he'd be nervous about that info coming out somehow out of his control. one person knowing makes it more likely for other people to know, and it'd take time for him to start trusting mel at all so he'd just be. very wary. i can also see that being a conversation, a kinda-gentle 'you're working with these people, maybe consider not hiding this from them, it'll be fine'. really just the more gods/beings that they encounter that can tell what he is/what he isn't and zenith eventually being like 'okay shit i gotta be the one to tell them so i can control how this looks somewhat'. better than malice calling him out in front of god and everybody

#zenith tag #dnd tag #fallen au tag

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thatyamiguy-blog · 1 year

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It’s a living (Ben 10)

it was a nice and peaceful day in Bellwood for a change, though considering it wasn't the main stream universe's Bellwood that made a degree of sense. In fact even as the main verse Ben sat across from his counterpart, enjoying the Mr.smoothies of universe 23 they could both relax as Seven-seven and Tetrax had decided to stay on earth and work as a team with 23, so were out patrolling. "So, not that it's not awesome to see you from time to time..but usually you showing up means something about to go all fucky fucky...Sooo what brings you here?" 23 asked. "things don't ALWAYS go bad when i show up!" Ben protested, huffing a little. "Mmmhmmm..So you showed up and I get attacked by my future team mates..you show up and the Ben war..you show up and Mad Ben.." 23 said, counting off on his fingers. "..Damn uh.. well I promise, no world ending stuff this time." Ben said, sweat dropping. "I uh.. ok so i told you I recently moved out and got my own place right?" "And yet you haven't invited me back once." 23 said and blew a raspberry to show he wasn't really offended. "eheheh well fact of the matter is I mightttta gone a little beyond my means and kinda sorta..I'm like a week from getting kicked out." Ben said, poking his fingers together sheepishly. "Heh, and what, you want a place to crash?" "welll more thinking maybe since I've been helping you and all that jazz, you could spot me a couple of grand to get me in the clear and stuff?" Ben asked hopefully. "eh..I learned the hard way not to loan friends money Ben. it's why me and my Gwen aren't on speaking terms." 23 said, then took a big drink of his smoothie. "however, I AM willing to help you MAKE the money you need, and more." "...Doing what?" Ben asked, confused. "Cuz gotta say, I've tried the retail thing back home and when you have to stop doing stock to fight alien invaders, you don't keep your job for long." "Pffft as if I'd let you work retail! Nah man! You know I've leveraged my frame and endorsed a TON of things right? Part of how I'm rolling in dough? Well I got this one wanna be sponsor who I'm not big on the product, but they are offering a crazy amount of cash. I figure they'll settle for the Ben of anther universe, you do the gig, we split the money 50/50, and everybody wins." 23 said, taking out a note pad and a pen. "Look uh, not to sound ungrateful, but if I'm the one doing the modeling or whatever, shouldn't I get more then half? and what are you writing down?" Ben asked. "That's how much your half of the deal will be, and I think you'll find it more then fair." 23 said and smirked. Ben frowned and picked up the piece of paper, looking down, then did a double take as his eyes went wide. "Holy crap! what am i modeling off? Missiles?!" he asked, his voice going higher then normal. "nah, no weapons of mass destruction in that sense.. though bet you'll still clear rooms." 23 said and gave a impish grin. "You'll be working for huggies." "..Say what?"

After half a hour of back and forth, and Ben admitting he really didn't have a better option, the two took off, transforming into XCLER8 and Speedyquick instead of hailing a cab and made their way to the huggies headquarters. since 23 was used to this sort of thing Ben mostly let him talk over the contract and tried not to get boarded out of his mind as they talked returns and profit margins, only tuning in when the executive they were talking to (who if Ben didn't know better, he'd swear was this universes version of Charmcaster) brought up diaper usage. "Of course seeing your other self in our new line of Lil' stinkers would do wonders for our promotion of them, but if we could show them being used it would really help sell other points. we're taking photo shoots for magazine spreads and of course some tv and internet ad's. the more you and your client can promise us in terms of selling these diapers are for big babies who need to be put in their place, the more zero's we can add to your check." She said, smiling. "Wait..as in..you know.." Ben interrupted before 23 could talk, and unable to say what he was thinking, and blushing badly, he make fart noises with his mouth. "Heh, yes, we want you to go dooty in your diaper." Hope said, smirking and watching the two boys reactions. "N-No way! I mean I'll wear them and crawl around and stuff, but I'm NOT taking a dump in diapers!" Ben huffed and crossed his arms, shaking his head and well, looking just perfect for the target audience. "Maybe I should give you and your client a moment to talk this over. we can make a deal without the diaper usage but it's going to cut into the bottom line." Hope said and got up and left the room. "Can you BE anymore of a brat?" 23 hissed at Ben. "But..but..she wants me to-" "Yes, I know. I was there. Look Ben, I'm putting my neck on the line for you here, if my other sponsors hear about what a crabby brat your being here, it could affect me. Also your the one who came to me for help, so wouldn't like crapping yourself in huggies and making a boat load of cash once be better then doing a bunch more commercials to make the same amount? And who the hell from your universe is gonna see you doing this anyways?" 23 asked. "But I don't wanna poop in a diaper!" Ben whined and shook his head. "and you can't make me! so th-" he started to add, then suddenly he was yanked out of his chair and over 23's laps. "W-what are you doing?! and when the hell did you get so strong!?" "I've been working out since the mad Ben thing. and I'm gonna do what anyone does with a whinny brat.." 23 said and smirked, tugging down the back of Ben's pants. "I'm gonna spank you." Yanking Ben's skid marked stained briefs up and giving the bigger boy a wedgie and exposing those cheeks, 23 paused. "Last chance to be a good boy and let me handle this." he said. "Y-You don't have the balls!" Ben cried out, his voice carrying. "I gave you a chance." 23 said and shrugged, then brought down his hand on Ben's bubble butt over and over, turning the cheeks nice and red as Ben bawled like a baby.

Since the office wasn't sound proofed, and many people knew that both of the Ben's were in the office, it attracted A LOT of attention as the bigger Ben's voice filled the floor with the sounds of wails and there was the unmistakable sound of buns being tanned. Hope smirked as she listened, feeling she had pegged the relationship between the two boys right, and waited till there was just the sound of the bigger Ben sobbing before going back into her office, and fighting back a chuckle as she saw the bigger boy in the corner, his pants in his chair and his undies still hiked up. the boy had his nose to the corner and his hands on his head, and was whimpering and sobbing gently. "I'm sorry for that, somebody needed a attuide adjustment." 23 said. "oh don't be! I just wish we had recorded that! would of been perfect for the set up of a commercial!" Hope said and chuckled. "well I can always spank him again." 23 offered, chuckling to as Ben whined loudly from the corner. "So, may I assume that your both on board with widdle Benny making uh-ohs and tinkles in his diapers?" Hope asked. "I dunno, Ben, are you ok with messing your diapers?" 23 asked. "Y-Yes! No more spankies!" Ben cried out, his hands going from his head to covering his poor buns. "i think that answers your question." "excellent, then I'll draw up the contract, and if we hurry we can have Ben in the studio in about 2 hours. Make sure he gets LOTS to eat, we wanna show off how the Lil' stinkers hold up to even the biggest messes." Hope said. as 23 and Hope chuckled, Ben whimpered and found himself sucking on his thumb having ALL the regrets.

a hour and half later and a semi pot belly Ben was leaning back in his folding chair, in front of the set and belching off and on. He still hadn't been able to reclaim his pants though he'd been allowed to tug the wedgie out at least, though this just got loads of comments about how diapers might be a good full time choice for him. Ben had swallowed back any come backs or threats he had in mind as every time 23 was quick to pat his still sore booty. going on Hope's advice 23 had forced Ben to chow down, though while the catering table was set up with all sorts of awesome snack foods, including Ben's favorite, chilli fries, it was the large pyramid of at least 23 jar's of prune baby food that 23 had directed Ben to, helping the bigger boy and spoon feeding him as the crew setting up the large nursery chuckled. "Come on ben, one jar to go. you can do it." 23 was saying, grabbing the last jar and smirking at Ben's baby food covered face. "D-Dude..I'm not joking..if I eat one more bite I'ma hurl." Ben whined. "that's what you said two jars ago." "by all means, call my bluff, just when your wearing baby food on your shoes, remember i warned you." Ben said with a weak smile then a LOUD and nasty belch. 23 made a face and waved the air in front of him. "Man, if it smells that bad now.. Maybe i should excuse myself to the other room when you crap yourself." he teased. "N-no way..if I'm doing this..you're watching AND smelling!" Ben whined and Belched again. "Can i get something to drink?" he asked. instantly he realized he should of worded his request better as 23 got a large baby bottle filled with what was hopefully milk, and popped it in Ben's mouth. it only took a few sucks on the nipple to realize that of course, it was formula, and Ben scuched up his face. "Hehehe I have to say Ben, you are JUST too cute like this. I might have to try and lock you into a long term agreement here." 23 teased then winced at the glare Ben gave him. "Kidding! Kidding!" pushing the bottle out of his mouth, Ben went to say something but was cut off as Hope strolled onto the set. "Ok people, time to make some magic. baby Ben, we need you in wardore." she said then pasued. "Oh, Do you know how to put a diaper on?" she asked, suddenly looking sheepish. "N-No." ben whined and a loud toot came out his bottom. "Oh er..I don't think we have time to teach you before you unload." Hope said, holding her nose. "it's ok, I'll diaper the big baby." 23 said happily. "of course you will." Ben muttered, but let himself be lead off to a side room where there was star on the door, with his name on it. "great...I'm about to become famous as a diaper boy.." Ben whined. lead inside 23 just chuckled. "Mr.Devil, he's ready for his close up."

The diaper was MASSIVE, and for a second both boys just stared at it, wondering if Ben was gonna be able to even walk in the thing. it was easily the equal to 10 normal diapers layered together and was a soft baby blue (whether that was a marketing choice or just when they had been making these things expect 23 to model them, neither boy was sure) anther loud toot from Ben's back door which sadly filled the small dressing room had both boys holding their noses, and broke them out of their trance. "I..I don't wanna do this. I'm scared." Ben whined, looking at 23 with pleading eyes and starting to squirm in a way that told him their deadline was coming up fast. "Sorry buddy, we signed the contract. but I'll make sure this goes as fast as possible. all you have to do with whimper and cry, and act like you've been acting, and I'll be doing the voice over." 23 said and reached up, patting Ben's head. Ben whined but let himself be laid down on the teddy bear print changing mat on the floor and just lifted his arms to let 23 tug his shirt off. "we're gonna have to enroll you in a exercise program if we need to keep feeding you like this." 23 teased, noting that while Ben wasn't chubby, he had enough pudge on him to look a bit like baby fat, and the baby food in his tummy wasn't helping. Sliding Ben's undies off 23 tossed them in a trash can behind him, then unfolded the massive diaper as Ben whined. "W-why'd you toss out my undies? A-and were are my pants? F-For after?" he asked, feeling so small and helpless as 23 lifted Ben up but his legs to get the diaper under him. "hush, you let me worry about that..though..heh.." 23 paused the look down at Ben's exposed crotch. "Didn't know you shave." "I uh..haven't gotten my pubes yet.." the bigger in so many ways, but not where it counted boy said. "well that explains your cute widdl-" "Watch it!" Ben huffed and for the first time moved to use his Omimatrix. "Ok ok..Sorry." 23 said sweat dropping. "I've had THREE girls interested in me by the way, so it can't be THAT small!" Ben added and 23 smirked and powdered him lots. "And how many of them saw you down there?" 23 asked, as he tugged the diaper up. "and of those that saw, how many stayed interested?" with the diaper tapped up Ben sat up with a bit of effort, but was blushing and wouldn't look 23 in the eyes. "L-Let's just get this over with." Ben huffed and tried to get up on his own, only to keep falling back on his puffy butt. "That's what I thought." 23 chuckled and then held out his hands, Helping Ben get to his feet. the bigger boys BIG diaper had his legs spread and Ben was barley able to waddle, several times needing to stop and take 23's hands as they made their way out onto the set. 'If i make it though this I'm moving to a smaller apartment so i never have to ask this son of a bitch for a favor again.' Ben thought.

Hope grinned ear to ear and had some of the photographers snap shots of Ben needing help with walking, before coming over with a baby blue bonnet and bib that had white text in comic sans, that read BRAT. Ben would of argued about the add ons, since he was pretty sure that hadn't been in the original deal, if it wasn't for the fact he was using every ounce of control NOT to mess himself too soon and have to start all over. "There we go, don't you just look adorable~" Hope teased and tickled Ben's chin. "A-Ah.S-Stop that..w-we hafa hurry up..I..I can't.." Ben whined and rubbed his tummy, a muffled fart coming out and making hope take a step back. As they started to film, Ben for the most part blissfully blacked out, but of course got to watch the commercial after, with everyone praising him on what a good boy he had been.

"Hey everyone, Ben 23 here, and bringing you yet anther great product. So, brats, we all know one and we've all thought about putting them in their place, but where do you even start to get what you need for it?" Came 23's voice, on a screen of black. "Well the answer for that, Is huggies. That's right, the same company you've been trusting to look after your little bundles of joy is here to help you put those same bundles of joy turned into over sized brats back into little baby's." the screen came into focus and there was Ben, a glazed look in his eyes and holding his tummy, in all his big baby glory. "Most of you know about my other universe counterpart, but what you don't know is that he's a grade A BRAT. as a favor to his friends back in his verse, we're giving Baby Ben the punishment he deserves. isn't that right baby ben?" 23's voice asked as Ben whined and pouted. "Pwease, no wanna go poopies! I'm sowwy!" Ben cried out. "now now Ben, you don't want anther spanking do you?" 23's voice asked, and it was the yelp of fear that sold it as Ben totally lost control. the camera zoomed in as the back of Ben's diaper rapidly started to expand, and loud gross farts were heard. Ben for his part was face down ass up, and pounding a fist on the floor as he filled his diapers, crying and howling but really, it only made the shot better. "Lil stinkers is made with a new material that allows for up to 40 times the normal amounts of waste, which means even with 22 jars of baby food in baby Ben's tummy these diapers won't leak, or your money back." 23 said. the diaper only started to take on a dirty stain of brown in the back as the material reached down to Ben's knees. "with our new smell block guards in the diaper, you'll only get the faintest whiff of the the mess the big babies made. Sure it spares the brat but if your brat is anything widdle Benny here, you're gonna be punished enough changing him." with a few last sputtering farts Ben was apparently finished and sucking on his thumb as he got up on his knees, looking to the cameras. "C-Change pwease?" Ben whined. "Oh silly Ben, if we just changed you right away, where would the fun be in that? with added rash protection built into the diaper, along with bratty baby brand powder, Our little Benny can go 12 hours without a change!" hearing that Ben bawled again, both hands coming up to his eyes and there was just no two ways about it, he looked like a giant baby. "See you in 12 hours little guy! enjoy your poopie diaper." 23 said cheerfully. Ben's cries were muted as they went to the last of it. "Lil stinkers by huggies. put your brat back in diapers, and in their place. Available at a super market near you in two weeks."

Ben naturally wasn't actually kept in the poopie diaper for 12 hours, though they did take the chance to get all the pictures they needed for him in his poopie diapers, with 23 posing in some of them with him. Such as having Ben in his arms, Ben over his lap and pretending to give him a messy spanking, and of course 23 pulling the back of the diaper open as Ben sat on his ass, hugging a teddy bear and sucking on a pacifier and 23 holding his nose. If 23 was being truthfully though he was glad he was wearing his baggy pants as the site of Ben like this almost had little hearts in his eyes and he was tempted to try and keep Ben like this. Still a contract was a contract, and once they had enough footage they got Ben changed into a clean diaper but out of the bib and bonnet, and with his t-shirt back on. Ben was actually in the crib that was part of the set up when he came out of it, the staff and Hope and 23 where having a few drinks. "C-Can somebody come let me out? And.. get me big boy undies and pants?" Ben called, using the crib railing to haul himself to his feet but swaying dangerously if he let go, so knowing he couldn't get out. if the crew heard him, they ignored him and kept talking among themselves and laughing, annoying Ben. "I SAID, SOMEBODY LET ME OUT!" Ben yelled and stomped a foot, slipping and falling on his padded rear. "oh great, the baby is awake." 23 said, smirking and winking to the crew who all laughed. "Your not freaking funny! Let me outta here NOW or I'm going way big!" Ben growled and started to fiddle with his watch. "Way big?" a crew member asked. "as in he's gonna be a big boy?" "No! as in the alien who's 100 feet tall!" Ben huffed and got the watch ready to go. "-sigh- I'll handle this." 23 said and walked over, holding his hands up. "heyy heyy..it's OK Benny. we don't need to bring aliens into this. you're all done here and we'll cash your check at the first bank of Ben then you can go home. OK?" "i want outta this diaper, I want outta this crib! and i want big boy undies and pants!" Ben huffed, keeping his hand over his watch. "heh, your terms are agreeable. we only re-diapered you because you were out of it, and I don't really wanna change anther poopie diaper." 23 lied. He would of totally loved to keep changing Ben's diapers but clearly the little guy had been pushed to his limit.

As it turned out they couldn't find pants in the studio for Ben, or a pair of undies so the poor hero ended up standing in line with 23 at the bank in his t-shirt and diapers, which normally would of caused problems but with 23's technically owning the bank, it was brushed over. The first thing they did after getting the check cashed was go shopping and get Ben a pair of sumo slammer boxers, then off to the food court for him to get the taste of the baby food and formula out of his system, though he wasn't able to eat his full order. 23 joked about how they should of gotten him a happy meal as he wiped up the chilli stains off of Ben's face. after that it was time to go home and Ben gave 23's hand a shake. "..ok, you saved my ass from having to move back home..buttt don't expect me to come back here till this ad campaign is over and done." Ben said. "heh, come on, didn't a SMALL part of you have fun?" 23 asked. "hahahaha NO. Today was the most horrible day of my life, and with the shit I've been though, thats saying something. Maybe you can come over to MY universe sometime and be a diaper boy for me though." "heh. or just show up with a diaper bag." "..Shutting up." with that Ben went back to his home universe, very much richer. Or so he thought.

as it turned out their money while looking the same on the outside, was made differently and raised all sorts of flags when Ben went to go and deposit it in his universe. there was a public cry of outrage that a hero like Ben would try and destabilize a local economy like that, and there was talks of official charges of counterfeiting and maybe even jail time. Not even able to get his cash back, and the Plumbers having to give him the cold shoulder publicly to save face, Ben decided to take a little bit of a vacation (2-7 months while the plumbers legal team got him out of the mess) back in universe 23, figuring that 23 owned him, AND wanting to give him a piece of his mind.

"baby Ben! back so soon?" 23 asked, delighted as a red faced Ben made it to his pent house. on the way over Ben had been recognized, teased and scolded for not being in his diapers and had seen billboard with him in all his blacked out diaper baby glory. "ha.Ha. we have a problem." Ben said, and then nodded to 23's couch. "mind if I take a seat?" "Only if you promise not to make a puddle." 23 joked, but moved aside as Ben came in and flopped down. Ben spent the next 10 minutes explaining out what had happened, as 23 looked upset and shook his head. "Man, that sucks. I'm sorry, i didn't know!" 23 said. "well, I need a place to stay for a little while till i get the OK to go back..so I was wondering if y-" "would put you up here for a few months, heh,. that can be arranged. don't think you'll be able to get a place on your own here unless you just did more commercials though, rent in the city has gone up since i live here." "Not like i have a penny to my name anyways, and was gonna ask if you'd rent me a place..Buttt staying here I guess won't be so bad." Ben said with a little smile. "there is a small price I'd like you to pay..But in return for humoring me on this onnnne tiny little thing, I swear you'll want for nothing while staying with me. all the junk food you could want and any video games, the whole nine yards." 23 said, blushing a little now. "..why am i getting a bad feeling about this?" Ben asked. "well see.. they didn't need the stuff they used in your commercial after you left..so they gave it to me for free..and you were just SO god damn cute.." 23 said, getting up and leading Ben to yup, a recreation of the nursery from the set. "FUCK NO!" "oh come on Ben! i promise! no baby food this time and pop in your baby bottles! Pleasssse?" 23 asked, bringing his hands together. "why in the world would i agree to do that for a few months? I could just go do anther commercial, then get my own place here!?" Ben pointed out. "one, because as your agent I control whether you do anther shoot, it's actually part of the contract, two, if I tell my bank not to cash your check who else do you think will cover that much. three, and this is the kicker. where else can you go to with ease to hide out? you really think mad Ben is gonna welcome you with open arms?" "..Fuck my life!"

And so one week after promising himself he'd never be a big baby again, Ben found himself in two of the thick blue diaper's and in a t-shirt top, crawling behind behind 23 and pouting like crazy. "Don't you think top is over kill?" Ben whined. "I'm the one paying for them. so just shush and look adorable." "Not funny." Ben pouted and then realized it would be harder then hell to get off and on the couch's and just sat on his diaper butt in the living room. "So what d-" "I want chilli cheese fires, I want a two liter of coke, and I want the latest sumo slammer game five minutes ago!" Ben huffed then grinned. "..Demanding aren't we?" "and i quote: I swear you'll want for nothing. I want all of that." Ben said smugly. "you know, i could of just spanked you." 23 teased, going to grab the phone and make the food order. instead of Ben telling him off however, the threat had a amusing and smelly effect instead. Ben froze at the memory of that and then well, with him being double diapered it was a little hard to tell since there was no smell, but 23 could of sworn Ben just got a little taller. "heh, Did somebody just make me a present?" "NO!...yes." "Good boy. I'll change you after you eat, if your a good boy." 23 said and winked. "...this is gonna be a long 2 months."

the end?

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cleanlenins · 3 years

Text

He Drives Me Crazy

AO3 FFN

Written for the Minibang

Artwork done by @tumbling-darkling

Mother's Day is today and Danny forgot to buy a present! How did this become Jazz's problem? Danny convinces Jazz to help him pick out a last minute Mother's day gift. He also somehow convinced her to teach him how to drive. Sibling hijinks ensue and Jazz is going to need some advil to get through all of her brother's terrible jokes.

The bird had been singing just outside her window for ten minutes now, but Jazz was well practiced in ignoring Mama Bird's pre-dawn routine. She snuggled further under the blankets, not quite waking as dawn began to break. The soft fingers of early morning light began to brush against her eyelids. She had found that arranging her bed in a way that allowed for natural daylight to wake her was beneficial for her mental health and refreshed her enough to face a new day with an upbeat attitude. Danny said it was proof that she was, in fact, a robot running on solar power. Honestly, he could laugh, but he would benefit from taking a little time to plot out his sleep cycle.

Something suddenly blocked the dawn light, casting a faint shadow that covered her face. She frowned, not quite waking, but some part of her brain was aware of the change.

"Jazz," a cold whisper tickled her ear. She furrowed her brow further, hiding her face from the suddenly cold air. She mumbled incomprehensible nonsense.

"Jazz, I need your help," the voice whispered again, this time breaking from desperation. A finger prodded her shoulder. Poke. Poke. Poke. "Jazz, it's an emergency ."

Jazz bolted upright, startling her little brother enough for him to fall on his butt with an oof . Jazz frantically scanned her brother, her hair a halo of ginger tangles framing her face.

"What's wrong? Are you hurt? Is someone attacking? Did Mom or Dad make something new and horrifying? Are you okay?" She nearly shouted. Her words ran together as she raced to get them out as quickly as possible. Danny flinched from the sudden tirade of information. Jazz searched her brother’s body for any obvious wounds, her eyes as wide as dinner plates. But no, he looked perfectly whole. He was still wearing his pajamas.

“Not that kind of emergency,” Danny said with a pitiful pleading look. “I forgot to get Mom a present!”

It took Jazz a second before she could comprehend Danny’s words. She responded by mercilessly hitting him with her pillow.

“You wake me up for a supposed emergency , and that emergency is you didn’t buy Mom a Mother’s Day present? I don't think you know what emergency means,” She said, not letting up on her pillow assault. Danny tried to protect himself from the feathery flail.

“Jazz, please. This is an emergency! Mother’s Day is today!” Danny pleaded. But Jazz did not let up.

“I know that Mother’s Day is today, you dork. I know how to read a calendar,” She huffed. Jazz dropped the pillow back in place on her bed, slightly out of breath. Danny peeked through his fingers to see if it was truly over. Jazz glared down at her little brother before wrapping herself back in her blanket. “Just fly out and buy her something. Stores will be open in an hour or so.”

“I don’t know what to get her,” Danny pouted. He stood and flopped on top of Jazz, who objected to the movement. “I don’t know what she would like. Jazz, you’ve gotta help me.”

“Why didn’t you do this before now?”

“I meant to do it last weekend, but then there was that weird Simon-Says ghost that made it so you could only do something if you said his name. And the weekend before that I had to study for that big test, remember? And the project Lancer had assigned. And then there was that whole thing with Johnny 13 that ended up with the Mall closing early, so unless I broke in I couldn’t have bought a present anyways.. And then the weekend before that-”

“Okay, okay. I get it. You’ve had a lot on your plate,” Jazz said. She shoved her brother into the floor and unwound herself from the blankets. Danny didn’t bother to move from the contorted position he fell in, but just continued to look up at Jazz with his puppy dog eyes. She sighed. How could she not give in when he looked at her like that? “Did you have any ideas about what you wanted to get her?”

“Well, I had thought I could bake something for her? I also thought to go by that weird academic place and see if they had something she would like,” Danny mused.

“It's just a bookstore, Danny.”

“Weird Academic Place.”

“Whatever. Fine. Call it whatever you want. It sounds like you have it planned out. So what do you need me for?” Jazz rubbed her eyes. Ugh, couldn’t he have waited five more minutes?

“You know her better than I do. You’re actually here most of the time. Not, you know, avoiding...her.” Danny shifted guiltily. He murmured something unintelligible. Jazz ignored it. “I just want to make sure she likes it, you know?”

“I’m sure she will like whatever you pick out.”

“Yeah, but I want her to actually like it, not just ‘Mom-like’ it, you know? I want it to be something she will enjoy because she wants it, not because I gave it to her.”

Jazz sighed.

“Fine, just let me get dressed and then you can fly us over to the mall when it opens.”

Danny shifted on the floor, still looking up at Jazz with his puppy dog eyes. Honestly, those should be criminal.

“Do you think that, maybe, just this once, I can drive your car?” Danny said, increasing the puppy pressure.

“What? No! Why would you want to drive my car anyways? You can fly,” Jazz said. Was Danny’s lower lip trembling?

“I know. I just- I got my learner’s permit now! And I just really want to try. I promise I will be really careful. Just please please please PLEASE. Don’t make me learn using the GAV,” Danny begged. “Do you want Dad teaching me to drive?”

Jazz shuddered at the thought. Imagining a teenage Danny driving like Jack Fenton. Except with no fear of death.

“Well…”

~~~

Jazz was trying very hard to not laugh as Danny was practically bouncing in his seat. The driver’s seat. Of her car. That was a sobering thought. She couldn’t believe that she was actually going to do this. Danny grinned as he fiddled with the seat settings, the seat jittering back and forth with an electric hum.

“Will you quit that?” Jazz snapped.

“What, I need to make sure my toesies reach, don’t I?” Danny grinned, stretching his legs comically.

“So why the heck is the seat all the way back?”

“Well, maybe my toesies need some toe room,” Danny argued, adjusting the seat's backrest all the way forward so his face almost touched his own lap.

“I’m regretting this already,” Jazz muttered, still gripping the keys.

“What? No, wait! I can behave,” Danny said, rushing to return the seat settings back to a normal setup. Not that there was any way to rush the old mechanical chair. The seat slowly moved back, the squeaking of the leather seats the only sound as Danny stared at Jazz, who was really starting to regret this. Neither teen broke eye contact as the chair moved with agonizing slowness. When the seat was finally upright, he grinned at her. “See?”

“Congratulations, you're sitting in the car like a normal person,” Jazz deadpanned. She took a steadying breath. “Okay, so what is the first thing you do now that you’ve figured out how to get your butt in a chair?”

“Uh, plug in the key?”

“Plug in?”

“I don’t know the word! You stick the key in the hole and twist.”

“I thought you got your learner's permit?” Jazz said suspiciously.

“I did, but it's early and I don’t remember words this early. I stick the key in the hole- the ignition! And turn. Right?”

“Wrong,” Jazz said, looking pointedly at her little brother. “First thing: Put on your seatbelt.”

“Why? It’s not like I can die again,” Danny laughed.

“Do you want me to teach you to drive or not?” Jazz snapped.

“I do! I do. Fine, I’ll put on the seatbelt,” Danny pouted. He clicked it into place, then made grabby hands toward his sister. “Keys, please.”

“No, you still haven’t checked your mirrors,” Jazz said.

“They're still attached to the car, I would notice if they weren’t,” Danny furrowed his brow.

“Not if they are still attached, you dork. That you can see with them,” Jazz groaned. Danny blushed.

“Sorry, cars missing mirrors tends to be a more common problem for me,” He said. He sat up and looked at all the mirrors, not having to make very many adjustments. “I think that's good. Now can I please start the car.”

Jazz hesitated, before finally dropping the keys into Danny’s waiting hands. The raven-haired teen looked gleeful at the little clump of jangling metal. He instantly put the car key in the ignition, the engine humming to life.

“Okay, so now you are going to put your foot on the brake. That’s the one on your left. And then you are going to shift the gearshift-”

“PRNDL,” Danny said, already shifting into Reverse.

“You've never even watched that show, it's on the wrong network,” Jazz complained.

“Doesn’t matter. So, do I put on the gas-?”

“No,” Jazz tried not to shout. She took another deep breath. “No, just. Get a feel for how fast it goes before you hit the gas, okay? Cars will go a little bit even without having to press the gas.”

“Sounds like me in English class,” Danny smirked, easing off the brake. The car inched toward the road.

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” Jazz said. She turned backwards to double check that no one was coming down their street. It probably wasn’t necessary. Most people avoided the street that the crazy Fentons lived on. With her Dad's driving? That was probably a good idea. “You should be good. Just turn the wheel to straighten yourself into the lane.”

Danny nodded and did just that. He seemed relieved, as he switched the car into Drive.

“Okay, cool. So now I floor it, right?” Danny said.

“I can’t tell if you are serious or not, but if you want to continue driving my car you will do no such thing,” Jazz's voice wavered. She squeezed the door handle, starting to feel it slide with sweat. “Just gently tap it. Speed limit is 35, so don’t go over that.”

Danny did a...really good job. Jazz relaxed. His turns were a little hair-raising, but nowhere near Jack Fenton levels. And Jazz only had to ask him to slow down twice. He braked a little hard at the lights. It could be worse.

“You’re doing great, Danny,” Jazz said fondly. Danny’s face, which had slowly contorted into a stern look of concentration as he drove, brightened. He shot his sister a look before she gently slapped him on the shoulder. “Eyes on the road!”

“Am I wheely doing a good job?” Danny snickered, tapping his fingers against the wheel. They were approaching an intersection.

“No puns.”

“Even if I am being carful ?”

“Stop it.”

“But I have miles of them. Can’t stop me now that I am on a roll .”

“Stop.”

“You can’t be tired of them yet-”.

“No, STOP!” Jazz cried. Danny slammed on the brake just as the light turned red, sliding slightly further into the intersection. The squeal of the tires against the pavement attracted the attention of the few pedestrians. Luckily, there were no other cars at the traffic light. It was early Sunday morning. Jazz held her hand to her chest for a second before her head jerked to Danny.

“Danny, are you okay,” Jazz asked. Danny gave her a wry grin.

“Yeah, I’m fine. The seatbelt doesn’t hit near as hard as Skulker,” Danny massaged his collarbone. “Sorry.”

Jazz took a deep breath. Danny was avoiding her gaze, his cheeks flushed the same color as the traffic light. He gripped both hands on the steering wheel, elbows rigid.

“Danny, you're okay. It’s fine. Everyone makes mistakes while learning,” Jazz said softly. Danny shook his head, still keeping his eyes forward. “You’re doing a really good job, I promise. Just don’t let yourself get distracted, okay?”

Danny still didn’t look at Jazz, but Jazz didn’t need eye contact to see where his mind was going. He was fast getting over his embarrassment, but it was turning into something she saw far too often on her little brother’s face.

“Danny, you have nothing to feel guilty about. I promise you are doing a good job. This is your first time driving a car, right?”

“Legally, yeah.”

“Legally-?” Jazz cut that thought short. “Nevermind. This is your first real lesson. You’re doing a good job. I promise. When this light turns green, just continue on a little more cautiously. And maybe don’t make anymore driving puns until you get a bit more comfortable. Or ever. That would certainly make me feel more comfortable.”

Danny’s lip twitched, but Jazz wasn’t satisfied.

“I want you to repeat after me,” Jazz said. Danny groaned. “Just do it. Stop complaining. Now, say ‘I am doing my best.’”

“I am doing my best,” Danny recited. The light turned green and Danny slowly pulled through the intersection.

“And my best is enough,” Jazz continued.

“And my best is enough,” Danny said unenthusiastically.

“Good, now say it all together,” Jazz said.

“Good, now say it all together,” Danny repeated.

“Danny, I’m serious,” Jazz admonished.

“And here I thought you were Jazz,” Danny quipped, his tone light. Jazz didn’t believe it. She knew when Danny was trying to pretend he was okay. She knew when he was trying to deflect. Jazz said nothing and continued to look at her little brother. Minutes passed in silence until they stopped at another intersection. Danny sighed deeply, weary.

“I’m doing my best and my best is enough,” Danny mumbled.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard you,” Jazz said.

“I’m doing my best and my best is enough,” Danny said in a normal tone of voice.

“Yes, and I am very proud of you, little brother,” Jazz said fondly. “Really, I am. You do so much. And you work so hard. And you do so much good. I don’t know how I could be any prouder.”

“I thought we were talking about my driving? Why are you getting all mushy?” Danny complained half-heartedly, finally smiling. Genuinely smiling.

“Because I love you. Turn left at this next intersection. It’s faster,” Jazz directed. Danny grumbled something about sisters, but Jazz didn’t let it bother her.

It hadn’t taken long after she found out about Phantom for her to realize her brother always seemed beaten down. And not just literally. But while the scars from the ghost fights healed ridiculously quickly, the mental and emotional scars Danny had been accumulating since The Accident were just getting worse. The constant detentions from teachers who could never understand what he was going through. The bullies that tore at her little brother’s self-esteem. And then their parents. Jazz knew they meant well. She knew they scolded Danny because they thought it would help. She knew they grounded him because they were worried. But the constant negativity was not good for him. When was the last time they had said something positive to him? Something that didn’t bring up their bigotry against ghosts? Something that made him feel safe? Something that made him feel truly loved? No wonder he was stressed about Mom’s gift.

It didn’t help that it seemed like they were always complimenting her. Yes, she did work hard on all her tests. She worked hard for her grades. She had worked hard for her CATs. She had worked hard on her college entrance essays. And she liked the praise. But couldn’t her parents see the damage they were doing by constantly praising one child but not giving the other child the attention they needed? If only they could see all the good Danny did. Because Danny was an amazingly good person who-

“Jazz, this is your short cut. I don’t know where I’m going. So could you stop spacing and tell me when to turn,” Danny cut in, breaking Jazz out of her thoughts.

“Whoops, sorry,” She apologized, taking stock of where they were driving. A store caught her eye. “Oh, they finally opened that new ice cream shop!”

“Really?” Danny said. He glanced around nervously, not wanting to let his eye leave the road.

“Yeah, it opened a few days ago,” Jazz squinted to read the sign, a bright fluorescent green. She groaned.

“What?” Danny asked nervously.

“They called it ‘Scream’. That’s awful . I hate that,” Jazz lamented. And sure enough, as they drove by, the little ice cream shop was taking full advantage of Amity Park’s ghostly reputation. Cute cartoonish green ghosts decorated the windows. A few were curled up on top of ice cream cones, smiling out at the potential customers. Danny snickered.

“Well, I love that. We have to go!” Danny said.

“It’s too early for ice cream.”

“So we get it on the way home.”

“I thought you were going to bake something for Mom?”

“I mean, yeah. But that takes time. And it’s ice cream,” Danny said with longing. “I’m a itty bitty cold core ghosty. I crave the sugary icy treat. It's in my DNA.”

“Danny, you don’t need ice cream.”

“But I do . Ask Frostbite. Complete medical necessity. Don’t be ghostphobic, Jazz,” Danny complained as they passed by the shop. “I need it so bad I could scream .”

“Ugh, turn left for the mall” Jazz groaned, causing Danny to cackle in delight.

“That didn’t sound like a no,” Danny nearly sang.

“You’re paying. If I have to go into a store decorated with ghosts, you’re paying,” Jazz demanded.

“Deal!” Danny crowed in victory. Jazz rolled her eyes. She continued to give directions as Danny drove, interspersed with compliments and tips. By the time they arrived at the mall, Danny was back in high spirits. Was that a pun? Ugh, Danny’s sense of humor better not be rubbing off on her.

Jazz took back the keys when they got out of the car. Danny had turned on the puppy look again to try and keep them, but Jazz put her foot down. Jazz was far less likely to lose the keys than he was. He finally agreed as they headed toward the mall.

The siblings walked through the parking lot, with Danny trailing slightly behind Jazz. It hadn’t been open long, but there were already more people than Jazz had anticipated. Probably other last minute Mother’s Day shoppers. She smiled, knowing the probability that at least one of them was delayed because of ghost reasons as well. Just not her brother’s specific issue. She reached the door and opened it for her brother, turning to comment on that thought, when she paused.

Danny walked past her, not noticing her stalled comment. His eyes scanned the inside of the mall as he took on a tense defensive posture. The baby blue of his eyes didn’t match the sky, as Mom had always said. Not right now. They were cold and hard like ice. The calculated stare of a predator. Walking with purpose, he continued inward, not letting his guard down until some unspoken criteria was met. Jazz wasn’t sure what he saw that made him relax. What did he see that let him know that there was no immediate threat? And wasn’t that just awful that walking into the mall would make her baby brother feel threatened? Jazz watched the tension melt from her little brother’s shoulders as he turned backwards to grin at her. Jazz did her best to grin back at him.

Her brother rushed forward and grabbed Jazz by her wrist. Danny dragged Jazz through the store quickly, not noticing his sister’s lapse in concentration. He weaved in between the shoppers, apologizing quickly when he accidentally bumped into one of them. Jazz worried that he might dislocate her arm. But the pain of that possibility didn’t compare to the emotional roller coaster in her head. It wasn’t the first time she had thought about this. It was wrong. He was just barely fifteen! It shouldn’t be his responsibility. They were just kids. They should just be able to go to the mall and just be kids. Instead, Danny was always on edge. Always ready to throw himself in danger. And Jazz understood because she recognized the Mall as being statistically a likely place for ghost attacks.

Jazz almost tripped over Danny when he suddenly stopped outside the bookstore. He spread his arms wide, gesturing to the facade.

“Here we are! The Weird Academic Place. The WAP,” Danny said, a huge grin across his face. Jazz punched him.

“You are not going to call it that in public. Not if you want my help,” Jazz admonished.

“What do you mean?” Danny asked in feigned innocence. “What is so wrong with WAP?”

“Danny, you know exactly what is wrong with that acronym?” Jazz said.

“No, honest big sister. I am just your tiny baby brother. I don’t know what any word means. Tell me. Does it have a dirty meaning? Why would my perfect sister know something that has a dirty meaning?” Danny tried very hard not to laugh. To keep up the charade. Jazz felt her lip twitch before she couldn’t hold back the giggles any longer. Okay, maybe they still were able to be children. They weren’t actually completely deprived of it.

“Danny, you're ridiculous. Now, did you want to get a present or not?” Jazz asked. Danny winked.

“Yes, a Wonderfully Awesome Present,” Danny said.

“No,” Jazz said, marching forward into the store without him. She smiled when she heard his chuckling get closer, her baby brother following her in.

Looking around, Jazz could see why her brother might label this bookstore Weirdly Academic. Even ignoring his stupid joke. The bookstore was geared toward academic and science books. It was, honestly, a little pretentious. What was wrong with a little light fantasy reading? Nothing. Though, she grudgingly admitted that it was the best store to get peer-reviewed science journals in print.

“Okay, so what kind of book were you thinking?” Jazz asked. Danny shrugged.

“I’m not sure. I don’t think she would want an ectobiology book. I mean, Mom and Dad wrote the most accurate ones. But she is super into science and I am not sure which sciences would be relevant?” Danny frowned in thought.

“Well, why don’t we go look at the ectobiology section and see if anything stands out. Who knows? Maybe we can find something they haven’t read yet. After that, I know Mom was talking about looking into different ways of measuring and predicting atmospheric changes so they can finally go into the Ghost Zone safely. Like a barometer, but for ectoplasm. We might find something about that in the meteorology section. Or the general earth science section. Or possibly even engineering?”

“Sounds like a plan. Let’s go!” Danny said, rushing down an aisle. Jazz waited a few moments before Danny’s head popped back around the shelf. “I’m going the wrong way, aren’t I?”

“Why don’t I lead the way this time?” She said, grinning. She grabbed his hand and steered him in the right direction. He moaned about holding his sister’s hand in public, but both of them could tell his heart wasn’t in it. Just a little brother reflex.

It didn’t take long for her to find the section on meteorology. Granted, she wasn’t super well versed in any of the Earth Sciences. But she had picked up a book here after the Vortex incident. The section wasn’t large. A big portion of it was taken up by a life-sized portrait of Lance Thunder, the local “weatherman” as he used to be known. Now he mostly just got called out to Ghost Fights. He didn’t seem very happy about it.

Danny looked over the books briefly, picking up a very fancy book that seemed promising. It’s title did seem to insinuate that at least one of the articles had something to do with atmospheric changes. But…

“What is it?” Danny said, looking up at Jazz.

“I didn’t say anything,” Jazz replied, a little too quickly.

“You didn’t have to. You don’t think this is a good choice,” Danny sighed, putting the book back into place.

“Well, no. I guess not. I think it might be a bit too broad for what they are looking for. But then again, what they are looking for is very specific. Maybe we should look at the engineering section first. Mom and Dad usually make their own stuff. But maybe there is something in there similar to what they want and they can base their designs on that?” Jazz said hopefully. Danny slumped.

“Fine, lead the way,” Danny said, slightly disappointed. Jazz squeezed his shoulder in sympathy, before they walked over to the engineering section. They passed by the small kids section on the way there.

As with everything else in the store, the kid’s section was education oriented, with science being the predominant field. There weren’t any kids here, probably because of the time. Jazz paused as something caught her eye. There on a display was the book version of Bearburt, Bearburt Knows It All. Jazz looked at the book wistfully.

Back when she was a kid, she was enamoured with that book. She had seen it at the old bookstore when she was five or six years old. She had skimmed it with her tiny fingers, seeing how the book encouraged her to be smart and to study. And to never stop questioning. She read it three times just while they stood in the store. Jazz had begged her Mom to buy it at the time, but she hadn’t gotten it. Mom had been distracted and instead of buying her the book, she had thought Jazz had wanted the stuffed animal that went with it. And Jazz didn’t correct her. Her teachers at school said she wasn’t supposed to correct adults, even when she was right. And so she had taken Bearburt home.

And she loved Bearburt. He had always been there for her. Through the kids that teased her in elementary school. To the crippling self-doubt she hid in middle school. She had thought she had grown out of him when she hit high school, when everything seemed to be working out according to plan. Even though Bearburt had helped her out through all of those hard times, it was the book that had given her the courage to be herself, even when others didn’t approve. To finally speak up for herself when she saw something wrong. And maybe she got a lot of grief over the years for being a know-it-all, but she was happy with who she was.

“Um, Jazz? You okay? I’m supposed to be the space case, not you. Remember?” Danny asked, shaking her gently. Jazz blinked rapidly. “That’s like twice. I didn’t think waking you up early would turn you into a Zombie.”

“I’m not a Zombie. I’m fine. I just remembered something.”

Danny hummed in response, a single eyebrow raised.

“So, the engineering section. This way,” Jazz directed. Danny watched her closely a moment longer, before shrugging off the distraction.

The engineering section was much larger than the section geared towards earth science. Jazz couldn’t be sure, but she imagined it was probably because of the constant destruction in Amity Park. Interest in engineering would likely soar when people wanted to find a way to create city infrastructure that could withstand the force of a giant glowing dragon being suplexed into the road. Or at least that seemed logical.

“That’s a lot of books,” Danny eyed the aisle warily.

“Yeah,” Jazz agreed, scanning the titles. She gestured to one section. “I think those are mostly geared towards Architectural Engineering, so we don’t need to look through those.”

“That still leaves a lot to look through,” Danny sighed. “Oh well, better start.”

The siblings began grabbing books and looking through them. Most of them were collections of articles instead of just being books on one subject, so they couldn’t just read the dust jacket to get a sense of what was inside. Many of the concepts were foreign to Jazz, but she was able to parse out the jargon well enough to get a sense of what was not what they were looking for. The problem was that they didn’t know enough to say if any of the few options they considered would actually be helpful.

“ Status and characteristics of diagnostics on Korea Superconducting Tokamak Research seems like a good option. It details what would work and what wouldn’t work with their design, so that might be a good place for Mom and Dad to start,” Jazz mused, looking at the journal entry.

“Yeah, but wasn’t it published in like 1996. Isn’t that kind of old?” Danny asked.

“Yeah, it’s not ideal . But they mostly just need a starting place. You know that they don’t stick to a blueprint from start to finish very well.”

“But what about this one? Pressure and interaction measure of the gluon plasma came out in 2010, wouldn’t that be better?” Dany said.

“Do you know what gluon plasma is?” Jazz asked.

“No,” Danny admitted.

“Me either,” Jazz sighed. “Who knows if it is similar to ectoplasm or not.”

“Maybe I should just get both?” Danny ventured, before wincing at the price. “Or not.”

“Yeah, academic titles are pricey.” Jazz said apologetically. Danny just hummed in agreement.

“I think I will go with the first one. The one about Korea Superconducting. If it’s the wrong thing, I think she would still enjoy that one more? She said something about superconducting at some point, ” Danny sounded unsure. Jazz hugged her little brother.

“Why touchy?” Danny complained. Jazz just squeezed him tighter.

“Big sister,” Jazz explained.

“Ngh,” Danny wriggled out of her hands. “I'm going to go buy this. You can go look up a book on personal space.”

“Rude,” Jazz called after her brother as he sprinted off towards the checkout. Or she thinks that’s where he was heading. He was going the completely wrong direction. Jazz chuckled. The red-head then put back the small pile of books she and Danny had pulled out, before heading over toward the psychology section. Maybe she could find a book on personal space just to irritate Danny. Actually, that was a good idea. Read a chapter of it here or there out loud until Danny stopped pestering her. Turn his own joke against him.

She noticed the ectobiology section as she made her way through the store. The section was probably bigger in Amity than it was in any other city. Most of the covers sported a massive orange ‘F’ on the front. There was probably twenty years worth of research, countless hours spent by her parents locked in the basement. Researching and inventing and writing papers, day after day. Even now, it wasn’t uncommon for Jazz and Danny to not even see their parents for a few days, their schedules causing the family to be like ships in the night. She wondered if they would ever get tired of that. Did they miss Jazz and Danny? Because Jazz found herself more and more missing them.

Maybe she should pick up a new book on childhood development instead. She passed the ectobiology section and found her way into the psychology section. They had actually restocked since she was last here! She soon found herself lost in a psychology journal article about sibling rivalry and didn’t notice the minutes ticking away from her.

“There you are! Dang it, why is this WAP so complicated to navigate?” Danny said, startling Jazz out of her focus.

“How long is it going to take you to get bored with that joke?” Jazz said, slamming the book closed and replacing it on the shelf.

“Depends. I still say the 'Road Work Ahead' line every time I see one of those signs,” Danny shrugged. He was grinning, and he swung the plastic shopping bag around lazily.

“I know. And there is one on every block,” Jazz bemoaned. She grabbed her brother by the shoulders and marched him toward the exit. “Why do you think I gave you directions the way I did this morning? So much construction.”

“You were trying to deprive me of Road Work signs?” Danny gasped, trying to turn around to stare at his sister. She kept pushing and ignored the false hurt in his voice.

“I was trying to keep you from having to maneuver through a construction zone your first time driving,” Jazz retorted. She was lying, so sue her. He literally said it every. Single. Sign. There are twelve on 4th street alone. “Sometimes I think you let yourself get thrown onto the road just so they put up more of those signs.”

Danny went strangely quiet but Jazz had grown adept at reading the silence.

“You don’t try to destroy the road so they put up more of those signs, right?” Jazz asked.

“I mean, I didn’t before. But you have such good ideas, Jazz.”

“No. Uh-uh. If I get any indication that you are letting yourself get curb stomped for a meme , I will lock you in the thermos for a week and just suck ectodogs in there for you to eat. That has to be the stupidest form of self-harm I have ever heard of,” Jazz chided as she pushed Danny out of the Weird Aca- dang it. Now she was doing it. They now stood in the mall proper. It had grown much busier in the time they had been inside the store.

“Was there anything else you needed here?” Jazz asked, Danny shook his head. “Then let's drive over to the grocery store and you can find something to bake for Mom.”

Danny lit up and held out his hand. Jazz fixed him with a stare.

“I will only let you have the keys if you promise me you will not intentionally get yourself thrown into a road,” Jazz said.

“Jazz,” Danny whined. “Sometimes I have to get thrown into the road. It’s better than getting thrown into the nursing home or doggy daycare or something. Sometimes the road is the best option.”

“Okay,” Jazz said, noting to process that later. “No intentionally getting thrown into the road for a dumb joke.”

A passing couple gave her an odd look, which she ignored. Danny put his hand over his heart, left hand in the air.

“I, Daniel James Fenton, swear not to let myself be thrown into the road for a dumb joke,” Danny said seriously. “Now gimme.”

Jazz sighed, and gave her brother the jangling mass of metal. He tossed it up in the air and caught it once more, a smirk at his sister.

“But you said nothing about a great joke!” Danny smirked, before sprinting through the mall. Jazz took a second to react before she chased down her brother.

“Danny Fenton, get back here with my keys!” She yelled.

~~~

Danny Fenton did not, in fact, get back there with her keys. When she made it to her car, her brother was already inside on the driver’s side. He was buckled with both hands on the wheel and beamed at her when she came into sight. Jazz glared at him and his smile dimmed. She marched over to the passenger side and slammed the door as she got in.

“...You know I am not really going to throw myself into the road for a joke, right?” Danny asked hesitantly, sinking down into the seat. Jazz sighed.

“I hope so. But sometimes you say something as a joke and then you actually mean it. I just want to make sure you’re taking care of yourself. The things you do...they are completely out of my depth, little brother. They don’t sell any books on how to handle this. I know what you do is important, but can you please try not to stress me out so much?” Jazz begged.

“Sorry. I guess I took the joke a little too far,” Danny said, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I promise, Jazz. I’m not going to let myself get hurt for some dumb reason. Jokes aside, I really don’t want to find out if I can die all the way.”

Jazz leaned over to give her little brother an awkward hug. He leaned into her. The moment passed and Danny grinned at her like the chaos gremlin he was.

“So, grocery store?” Danny asked. Jazz just smiled and turned around to make sure he didn’t back into anyone. Her brother eased out of the parking space, the mall in the rearview mirror.

The grocery store wasn’t all that far away from the mall, so it was a pretty short drive. Honestly, Jazz had been considering just walking from the mall to the supermarket. But Danny seemed to be having so much fun driving that she didn’t bring it up. The closer they got to the store, Danny’s smile grew and grew. Jazz thought it was bordering on maniacal.

“What’s with that face?” Jazz asked, suspicious.

“What face?” Danny tried to straighten his grin into one of innocent confusion.

“You know what face. Why are you making that face?”

“I don’t know what you mean. This is just my face. My normal human face. No need to attack me about it,” Danny cackled.

“Okay, you’re making a pun. I hear that in your voice. But I have no clue what joke you are making,” Jazz said as she stared at her giggling brother.

“I’m just getting in the zone ,” Danny snarked. Jazz was about to grill him about his behavior when she saw it.

“Oh no, they didn’t,” She said, horror struck. Danny expertly parked the car so he didn’t crash from laughing.

“They did,” Danny gasped, tears dripping down his cheeks. His face was as bright as a tomato as he continued to laugh. Jazz gaped, torn between being insulted by the misuse of government resources and amused by the absurdity.

On the side of the road was a very new sign. And as Jazz looked around, she could see that they were scattered everywhere. How had she missed them? The sign was a bright yellow equilateral triangle with the vague silhouette of a blob ghost, eyes glaring menacingly. Underneath it said-

“Ghost Attack Zone? What?” Jazz was flabbergasted. Danny clutched his stomach.

“I know!” He choked out between giggles.

“What does that even mean? Ghosts attack everywhere!” Jazz threw her hands in the air while Danny just continued to laugh. Jazz tried to stay strong and be the serious one, as usual. But she couldn’t do it. She caved, snorting and laughing with Danny. The siblings leaned into each other and guffawed until their sides hurt. Whenever they tried to get ahold of themselves, they would make eye contact and suddenly they were both back to clutching their sides and gasping for breath.

“Oh Ancients, do you think you can use this against Walker?” Jazz mused when she was finally able to control her laughter. Danny looked awestruck and grinned.

“Sorry, Walker, this is not a Ghost Attack Zone. Attacking me is against the rules,” Danny mocked the absent ghost. “Oh, I have no clue if it will work but I am absolutely doing that. I can’t wait to see the look on his face.”

“I think you can wait. We don’t need him showing up right now. It’s almost noon,” Jazz chided. Danny smiled.

“Would you say it’s High Noon?” Danny drawled.

“That meme is as dead as you,” Jazz rolled her eyes as Danny once more lost himself in a peel of laughter. “Can you please get a hold of yourself and drive to the store? The parking lot is right there!”

Danny held his breath, trying to contain the laughter as he drifted back onto the street. He pulled into the parking lot and began to look for a spot. Jazz pointed one out to him.

“There is one! It doesn’t have anyone next to it so it is a good place for you to practice.”

“I’m not parking there!”

“Why not?”

“The parking lot seagulls are there, minding their own birdy business. Are you trying to get me to commit birdy genocide?" Danny asked aghast.

“They will move when you get close to them.”

“But then they might not like me anymore and take their poop-fueled revenge. I don’t have the gull to make them my enemy. We’re birds of a feather !”

“How does that even remotely make sense?”

“I mean, they're white, they fly, and most of Amity Park thinks they’re a menace when they mostly just want to eat cheese fries,” Danny listed off, slowly passing the seagull mob. “Oh, and they are from the Ghost Zone.”

“What do you mean they’re from the Ghost Zone?” Jazz said, rubbing her temple.

“How do you think a bunch of seagulls end up in a city in the middle of Minnesota? Random transient portals,” Danny nodded sagely.

“Are you making that up?”

“You’ll never know.”

Jazz did not like not knowing things, but Danny was stubborn. Even though Jazz pestered Danny well after the car was parked, Danny refused to budge on elaborating. He just smiled mischievously. Jazz stewed, but it was fine. Danny may be afraid of bird-related vengeance, but she was an older sister. And she knew how to wait. And he should be more worried about Jazz related vengeance.

The siblings entered the store, Danny quickly grabbing a shopping cart. Jazz held onto his shoulder so he wouldn’t zoom off without her. Even so, she was having to speed walk to keep up with him.

“So, what are you planning to bake for Mom?” Jazz asked.

“Um, that’s a good question,” Danny slowed his pace. He looked at her with big pleading eyes. Jazz sighed.

“Well, I know she likes key lime pie but-”

“Great! Key lime pie, it is!” Danny said, successfully zooming away from his sister toward the produce aisle. Jazz wanted to scream, but she walked at a sensible speed after her little brother.

Jazz didn’t like key lime pie all that much. She had plenty of evidence as to why it was the inferior dessert in the Fenton Household. For one, it was green. Or, green-tinted at least. It made it very difficult to tell if it had been contaminated in the refrigerator by her parents' ectoplasm samples. It was made doubly hard by the citrus sour taste, something that limes and ectoplasm shared. Though limes didn’t usually have that battery-acid aftertaste as well. Not unless they had been left in the Fenton Fridge too long. On top of it, Jazz just didn’t like sour things. But if she were to honestly examine her distaste, she may dislike sour things because she had eaten so many ectoplasm contaminated meals.

Danny was still in the produce aisle. Jazz frowned as she watched him grab different fruits and stick them in the cart. He hadn’t even grabbed any of the limes yet. But he was going along, grabbing item after item at seemingly random.

“What are you doing?” She asked once she caught up to him. He looked at her seriously, before slowly reaching into the cart and solemnly handing her a bright red apple. Jazz just stared at it, before looking at her brother suspiciously. He was leaning over the cart.

“I just wanted to apple-ogize for driving you bananas today,” He pulled out the yellow fruit and put it on top of the apple in her hand. Jazz looked at the fruit expressionlessly. “ You kiwi-ckly agreed to go shopping with me, even though apricot to buy Mom’s gift. I cherry-sh our currant relationship, and think your grape for en-durian my jokes. And I will try to not take you for pomegranate again because we make a great pear. ”

As he spoke, he piled each named fruit into Jazz’s hands, who just stood there looking at the growing mass of food she held. When he had finished talking, she had a small fruity hill precariously balanced in her arms. She looked at her brother.

“Are you done?” She asked. He looked at her sheepishly, before sitting a single avocado on top of the pile.

“I couldn’t think of a pun for it in time,” Danny admitted. Jazz just stared at him. And took a deep, steadying breath.

“Why?” She asked. Danny shrugged.

“Fruit was there,” Danny said, as if it explained everything. Which it didn’t. But Jazz was going to at least pretend to be the bigger person.

“Please just put them back,” Jazz begged. Danny grinned as he pulled each fruit out of Jazz’s hand. “Where did you even find a durian?”

“Sam.”

“...were you just carrying that in your pocket?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Jazz,” Danny scoffed. “It was in my backpack.”

“Right. And you are carrying a durian around with you because-?” Jazz prompted, handing over the last of the fruit to Danny.

“They are smelly,” He said, brows furrowed.

“Danny. Please. Explain it to me. Use your words,” Jazz begged.

“It makes it easier for Cujo to find me. Strong smell. And also he really likes playing fetch with them,” Danny shrugged. “Hey, can you go grab the stuff for a pie crust while I put all of this fruit back? We are in a hurry, you know.”

Jazz really wanted to explore how he had found out that the Ghost Puppy enjoyed durian, especially since she wasn’t sure if living dogs could even eat the fruit safely. Was he just chucking random fruit for the dog to chase? There was a story here. Not to mention it wasn't something usually found in the local stores but-

“What kind of pie crust?”

“Um, I guess a graham cracker crust? I don’t know how to make other kinds,” Danny said, still holding his fruit pile. “I think the graham crackers are in aisle eight.”

Jazz turned to walk away, keeping one eye on her brother and making sure he put the assorted fruit back in their place. He seemed to be doing just that, after sliding the durian back into his backpack. She walked past the baked goods. Danny was getting good at baking, somehow, but she would still prefer any of these store bought goods to key lime pie. She tried not to eye the cute little tiramisu that was placed right at the front, wrapped in a hard plastic box. She really liked the little cake, but never found the time to make it. Wait, she was getting distracted. Jazz blinked away the thought and walked briskly to aisle eight. Danny was right. This did have the graham crackers.

It took some time for Jazz to find Danny again. She had taken a detour to make sure he had actually put all of the fruit back in their correct place before catching up with him by the eggs.

"Don't we have eggs at home?" Jazz asked. Danny shrugged.

"I think so. But they have probably been in the fridge for a week so-"

"Ah. Yeah, better not chance it," Jazz nodded.

"Yeah. I guess I could still take a crack at it, though," Danny snickered.

"Oh my god, Danny-"

"You gotta learn to take a yolk , Jazz," Danny drawled out her name. "Don't be so hard-boiled ."

"I'm getting rid of you. I am going to Vlad's house and giving him your birth certificate," Jazz deadpanned. Danny gasped dramatically. "Danielle can just come and live with us. Upgrade."

"You wound me! Also, Ellie's puns are worse than mine, so not much of an upgrade there," Danny shrugged, grabbing a dozen eggs and putting them in the cart. "All that's left is the sweetened condensed milk. What even is sweetened condensed milk?"

"It's just milk that has been heated to remove some of the water from it, with sugar added," Jazz grabbed the cart from her brother and started pushing it toward the baking aisle. It forced Danny to walk at a normal pace. "You know you could have asked me to grab it while I was getting the graham crackers, right? They are in the same aisle."

"Of course I knew that," Danny said, his tone saying he very much did not know that. Jazz chose to drop it. They grabbed the can of sweetened condensed milk, Jazz physically holding her hand over Danny's mouth to prevent another infernal pun. Danny licked her hand, so she did the mature thing and rubbed his spit on his face. When an adult turned down the aisle, Jazz straightened up. She angled the cart toward the registers, but Danny stopped her.

"Let's do the self checkout," he complained, tugging on her arm. She shook him off.

"Do you see how many items we have in this cart? That would be so annoying! The cashier-run register is better."

"Noooo,"Danny whined. He leaned all of his weight on Jazz, causing her to stumble. "Self checkout, Jazz!"

"Seriously? You're going to knock me over," Jazz complained, trying to push her brother off of her.

"Sounds like a personal problem," Danny said, continuing to hang off of Jazz. Jazz was severely tempted to just let him fall on the floor, but that was probably not the correct response to have.

"If you want to do the self-checkout so badly, I am not going to help you. You can do it yourself," Jazz huffed

"Okay," Danny chirped, standing upright immediately. "Why don't you wait in the car while I check out?”

Jazz was going to argue against it, when inspiration struck. A little bit of pay back for her baby brother. She smiled sweetly at him and gave him a kiss on the head. He sputtered and gagged at the show of affection as she turned on heel to head for the car.

It didn’t take her long to set up her revenge. She had kept it on the backburner for a while, a small plan to be enacted when the time was right. Preparation was key. So she waited primly in the passenger seat of her car, giving occasional glances to the storefront. She saw her brother heading toward the car, half a dozen bags hanging from his arms (with one tiny one clutched in between his teeth). She unlocked the trunk as soon as he got close, letting him put the groceries in before slamming it shut with a thud. Danny slid into the driver’s side, grinning from ear to ear. Jazz did her best to hide her excitement as he buckled his seat belt.

“Why are you making that face?” He asked, suspicious.

“Face? What face?” She asked, knowing she was failing to hide her excitement.

“You are worse at keeping secrets than I am,” Danny said, staring at her.

“If you say so. But we need to get going if you are going to get ice-cream,” Jazz said, deflecting.

“Uh-huh,” Danny said, still suspicious. He shifted the car into reverse, and both he and Jazz turned to make sure he didn’t hit someone as he pulled out. He drove through the parking lot, slowing to wave at the flock of seagulls that were currently tearing apart a deli sandwich. He pulled up to the road, about to turn when Jazz made her move.

“Why don’t we listen to some relaxing music on our way,” She said, all too innocently. She turned the volume up, the unmistakable sound of flute and harp warbled through the speakers.

“No,” Danny cried, horrified. His mouth fell open as he stared at the car’s radio, not moving even though he was clear to drive.

“ Oh Danny Boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling~ ” The car crooned. Danny groaned loudly, trying to drown out the lovely soprano voices of Celtic Women.

“Jazzy, please! Have mercy on your brother!” Danny begged.

“I have know idea what you mean, Baby Brother,” Jazz said, grinning. “You can turn, you know. There isn’t anyone coming.”

“Jazz!” He cried. “Please.”

“Come on, don’t get distracted. Just think of that frosty treat, cold core ghosty. Go on,” Jazz mocked. Danny fake sniffled as he pulled onto the road.

“Jazz, this is torture. I hate this song! You know I hate this song.”

“What? You hate this song? This is brand new information. I guess I was due to learn something new since you refused to tell me about the seagulls,” Jazz said. “Here, I’ll change it for you.”

Jazz pressed the button that would change the song. A soft organ played a delicate melody.

“ Oh Danny boy -” sang Johnny Cash.

“Jazz!” Danny yelled. “Jazz, why?”

“Oh dear, it seems like this entire CD is made of only covers of the world-renowned Irish hit Danny Boy . Who would make such a thing?” Jazz grinned as her brother expertly stopped at the redlight. “Great job, Danny. You’re doing great.”

“Please, just kill me Jazz. This is cruel and unusual punishment,” Danny said, reaching to turn the car radio off. Jazz slapped his hand out of the way.

“Both hands on the steering wheel, Mister,” She admonished.

“Jazz, I’m sorry! Yes, the seagulls came through a portal. But they are just birds. Please just stop this torment,” Danny yelled over Johnny Cash.

“So interesting, little brother. I am really glad you told me,” Jazz said. She clicked the radio. A fiddle introduced the Daniel O’Donnell version of the song. Danny made an inhuman noise of distress, causing goosebumps on Jazz’s arms.

Jazz directed him, sometimes yelling over the Irish tune to make herself heard. Danny moaned and groaned, throwing quite a tantrum over each iteration of the song as they faded into the next. His driving did not reflect his words, though. Jazz only had to correct him slightly, warning him that he was drifting into other lanes here and there. She considered asking him about the “not-legal driving” he had insinuated, as it really was impressive that this was his first time. Instead, Jazz sang along happily as her brother screeched his displeasure. Before they knew it, they were pulling into the ice cream shop. Danny was shrieking nonsense over the blaring music. A few people in the parking lot gave the car an odd look.

Jazz flicked the radio off, but Danny continued to scream until the car was completely parked. She scrunched her face as the blaring noise.

“You good?” She asked, as he stopped for breath. He gave one more inhuman shriek before ceasing. He intangibly reached into the cd player and pulled out the cd, cracking it in half.

“I am now,” He smiled. Jazz rolled her eyes, before opening the car door.

Scream had really pulled out all the stops for their ghostly ice cream theme. She had only caught a glimpse when they had driven by before. Little blob ghost silhouettes were pasted on all of the windows, statues of some of the more well known ghosts were positioned around the building. Fairy lights were strewn around the outside, each one fitted with a little green ghost bulb. The very front had an almost to scale statue of Phantom, though anyone who actually got close to Phantom could see little mistakes in the appearance. They couldn’t stand there examining every decoration, though. They had groceries in the car.

“They just can’t get my nose right,” Danny whispered, causing Jazz to giggle. Jazz opened the door for her brother and followed him in. The walls were papered with articles about the different ghost attacks as well as drawn art of the different ghosts. Streamers hung from the ceiling, wrapped around themselves in such extravagant swirls and twists that the ceiling was completely hidden in the green and purple paper. The ice cream was set up behind a counter, as any other ice cream shop would have it. But there were also shelves filled with different merchandise. T-shirts, cups, and hats with little ghosts. The logo for Scream clearly in view.

There was not a very long line, only about four people in front of the siblings. This gave them plenty of time to peruse the different flavors and options. It wasn’t a franchise, so they didn’t have as many options as a corporation like Baskin Robbins. Apparently, they even changed their flavors weekly. Jazz thought that was smart for the small time company. But she had to wonder how much money they blew on decorating the place.

Danny was cackling at the flavor names. Jazz just ignored them. More puns. Of course more puns. Did Danny give input for this place or was he just corrupting the entirety of Amity Park? It wouldn’t surprise her if puns became more popular because of a certain Ghost Hero’s penchant for using them in his witty banter. Witty in quotation marks.

“That will be $20.22. Will that be cash or card,” Jazz turned to where a worker was passing a cone to an elderly gentleman and what she assumed was his grandson. The older man whistled.

“That sure is pricey,” He said as he reached for his wallet.

“You get what you pay for. We only use the best ingredients,” The worker said unenthusiastically. The cashier waited for the elderly man to pull out his money, but the grandfather seemed distracted. He started telling the young whippersnapper about how things used to be and how far he could make a dollar go back during the depression. Jazz tuned it out as she continued to look at the options.

“Actually, Jazz. Maybe we shouldn’t do this today,” Jazz turned to Danny. He was looking away from her so she couldn’t read his expression. “This is probably going to take a while, and we do have groceries in the car.”

“It’s fine, Danny. There aren’t that many people waiting. We have time,” Jazz assured him.

“I mean, it is already getting late. And I still have to make that pie without Mom noticing. So maybe we should just leave,” Danny rubbed the back of his neck.

“We’re already here. I thought it was a medical necessity that you get some ice cream?” Jazz was confused. He had been so insistent.

“Yeah, but I think we should just go. We don’t want to be late,” Danny said, turning toward the door.

“Wait, Danny,” Jazz grabbed her brother’s arm. “We came all the way here. And I know you still want some ice cream so why-?”

“It’s nothing, Jazz. I just changed my mind,” Danny refused to make eye contact with her, but glanced over at the man still regaling the tired employee with the value of a dollar. Jazz followed his gaze, before it clicked. Danny was flushed with embarrassment, hand hovering over the pocket that held his wallet. A wallet she would guess was quite a bit lighter after buying gifts. One that was often empty because of ghost related costs.

“You know, I’m feeling really bad about subjecting you to all of those covers of Danny Boy . How about I pay for the ice cream this time instead?” Jazz said.

“Wait, you don’t have to do that,” Danny said, finally meeting her eyes.

“I don’t have to, but I am going to. It wasn’t very ethical of a future psychologist to subject my younger brother to musical torment. Even if it was my right as an older sister. Just don’t get it in my car. Besides, that Coffee Carnage ice cream actually sounds really delicious,” Jazz pulled Danny back over next to the display. Danny made another half-hearted attempt to leave but Jazz ignored him. “What are you going to get?”

“...I guess the Harshmallow Chocolate Chunk,” Danny sighed.

“Even you know that that pun is bad, right?” Jazz asked. Danny snorted.

“No such thing,” He chuckled. The line finally moved.

The siblings got their ice cream and Jazz grabbed so many napkins that the employees had to step in to limit her. The Fenton's walked out of the shop, eating their ice cream and heading for the car. Jazz decided to drive the remainder of the way home, and Danny did not object. It was a little difficult to eat ice cream and drive. And neither Jazz nor Danny felt comfortable with Danny attempting that on his first day. Jazz stuffed the napkins all around Danny to make sure that he didn’t drop the sticky chocolate marshmallow creation on her interior.

“Jazz, I’m fifteen not five. I’m not going to drop it in your car,” He rolled his eyes before fumbling his cone. He had to catch the scoop in his fingers as it threatened to tip off into his lap.

“Right, that makes me feel so much better,” Jazz said as she watched her brother lick his fingers clean. “If my car is chocolate-covered after this, you are going to wish that I still had that CD.”

“Sir, yes, sir!” Danny saluted with his sticky hand. Jazz suppressed a groan and pulled out onto the road. She forgot to take an alternate route and soon Danny was pointing out every Road Work Ahead sign on the road. She felt the muscle in her eye twitching.

After threatening to shove her ice cream in Danny's face if he didn't stop, Danny focused on eating his treat. Jazz kept glancing at him from the corner of her eye. When Danny smirked like that, it usually didn't bode well. Even so, the younger sibling didn't pull anything even after Jazz parked in the Fenton driveway. Suspicious.

Unfortunately, Jazz didn't have time to grill her little brother on the mischief he was planning. As soon as the car was stopped, he shoved the final bit of his cone in his mouth (paper and all, ew Danny) had unbuckled and flung himself out of the car. Jazz watched as her brother scrambled to grab every bag at one time, nearly dropping most of them.

"You're going to drop the eggs," Jazz warned.

"No I'm not," Danny said.

He dropped the egg carton and they would have splattered on the ground if he had reacted even a moment slower. However, precariously balanced on his knee wasn't a super stable place to be. Jazz grabbed it from him, raising an eyebrow. He chuckled nervously, attempting to rub the back of his neck. But the plastic bag on his wrist slapped him in the face. Jazz bent over with laughter, which Danny joined.

Danny and Jazz walked into the house and straight to the kitchen. She started to put the eggs in the refrigerator, but thought better of it. Danny was going to use them soon anyway. She sat them on the counter and turned to the rest of the supplies. She reached out to unpack the groceries, when suddenly Danny was there blocking her way.

"I got this. You don't need to do that," Danny said quickly.

"I know I don't need to, but I want to. It's just a few things," Jazz said.

"Yeah, but you've already done so much! And I've taken up almost all of your Sunday. Didn't you have to do something for-um. You have a penpal, right? Or, er- the kid you tutor in English online. Weren’t you supposed to message them today?" Danny fidgeted. Jazz's eyes widened before she glanced at her watch.

"Oh, Ancients, you're right! I was supposed to message him twenty minutes ago!" Jazz said, she ran out of the kitchen. She called back "Let me know if you need any help!"

It turns out, her tutee was running late as well. So, no harm done. Jazz spent the next hour helping him, keeping a constant ear out for her little brother. Afterwards, she decided to get a little bit of her homework for next week done. She hoped Danny would come ask for help if he needed it. She hoped that he had learned that she was there for him. When she finally shut off her computer and walked down to check on Danny, he was placing the pie cautiously on the table. The whipped cream was a bit lopsided, but it looked cute.

"That looks nice, Danny," Jazz said. Danny beamed.

"Thanks. I had to cull some of the ectodogs in the fridge. They really wanted to take a bite out of me instead of the pie."

"Why don't I run upstairs and get my present? Then we can get Mom out of the lab to wish her a Happy Mothers day."

"Sounds good to me," Danny nodded. Jazz took a quick trip up to her room. She grabbed her perfectly wrapped gift and brought it downstairs. Danny had found a gift bag for the book, and it was sitting next to the pie. Jazz sat her gift next to the pie, as well. Before she could turn to the Lab, the door burst open and the heavily armed Fenton parents rushed out.

"Sorry, kids. You are going to have to find something for dinner tonight. We just got a call about a potentially haunted house over on Northshore. Don't wait up, okay?" Maddie Fenton said, rushing through the kitchen. Jack hot on her heels.

"Wait, but-"Jazz called after.

"No can do, Jazzy! A Fenton waits for nothing! Especially red lights," Jack Fenton called back. The front door slammed shut, and their parents were gone. Jazz just stood there, mouth ajar. Oh, Danny had worked so hard. And they were just going to leave? She turned to her little brother.

He was eating a slice of the key lime pie (how did he already slice it?). He seemed bored.

"Danny, I am so sorry-"

"Jazz, don't worry about it. We can give her our gifts later. It's not a big deal," Danny shrugged and took another bite of pie. "You want a piece?"

"Um, actually Danny, I don't really-"

"-like key lime pie? I know. I may be clueless, but I'm not blind," Danny grinned and pulled something from under the table. Jazz leaned forward to get a better look.

The little tiramisu she had seen at the store was sitting on a colorful platter. Jazz didn't know what to say.

"I just wanted to say thanks. You know, for letting me drag you all over Amity today. And teaching me how to drive. And for just always having my back, you know, in general," Danny rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as Jazz took the platter, still speechless. "You're a great big sister, and I love you. I guess. But if you tell anyone about this conversation, I will deny everything."

Jazz fingered the platter-no not a platter. The smooth surface was much too light. Gave too much under the weight of the tiny cake. She picked up the plastic box the cake was in and felt a wet prickle in her eye.

Bearburt Knows It All by C.L. Werk. Jazz gently sat the plastic box on the table and ran a finger over the shiny cover. She traced the letters slowly with her finger, just as she did the first time she read it. She looked up at Danny, who was fidgeting in his seat. He stuffed another bite of pie in his mouth. Jazz laughed wetly, and rushed around the table. She folded her brother into a tight hug, ignoring his protests.

“I love you too, Danny,” Jazz sobbed. Danny chuckled before hugging Jazz as well. Both relished the moment of peace their life so desperately needed.

Words are hard. It's hard to express only in words the love between two siblings. Because it wasn’t always tender. It wasn’t always kind. It was chaotic, and loud, and full of energy. Even with all the words Jazz knew, she knew that no word could ever explain the feeling in that moment. So she held her brother tight, and she would always hold him tight. Because he may drive her crazy, but she wouldn’t miss it for the world.

#Danny Phantom #invisobang 2021 #Danny Fenton #Jazz Fenton #Fluff #My Writing #Fanfiction #Comfort #Sibling Bonding

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shinygoldstar · 3 years

Text

Midnight Snack

DannyMay Day 11: Midnight

(Also DannyMay Shadow, Scars, Power, Nature, Seasons, Teeth can you find them all?)

Word Count: 2271 (not beta’d. experimental writing)

Warning: mentions of ghost cannibalism, nothing explicit

@floralflowerpower – for that ghost cannibalism post

(it’s 1 am so i’m gonna sleep now. might post on AO3 later)

Edit: AO3 Added!

It was mid-October. The leaves are starting to turn yellow heralding the approaching autumn. Danny was happy because that meant the unusually hot weather is almost over. It wasn’t that he’s melting from the heat- quite the opposite, he’s probably the only person in Amity that isn’t sweltering under the sun with his cold core. But due to this exact same reason, his cooler body temperature also drew in water vapor which condenses on his skin, pooling into beads of water dripping down his shirt, making him appear extra sweaty. He can’t wait for the temperature to be cool enough to not change clothes every few hours. Good thing his clothes are purchased by the dozen; no one really noticed him wearing new sets of clothes throughout the day.

It was the contaminated fridge foods that disappeared first. No one missed them. At least until they can’t find the mutated turkeys for their annual Thanksgiving hunting event.

Danny yawned as he and his friends entered Fenton Works. Autumn is comfy. Just the right temperature where he can wear loose clothing and not be stared at for being underdressed for the weather. No ‘sweating’ either. His mouth closed with a click, a bit too fast on his new fangs. Danny winced. The fangs seemed to have grown longer overnight again. At this rate Danny won’t be able to pass them off as normal pointy canine teeth for much longer. It didn’t hurt but the itch is annoying. Danny took a detour to the fridge, grabbing an ice cube from the freezer and popped it into his mouth, absentmindedly chewing on the cubes to take the edge off the itch as they walked down to the basement lab. His parents are at a paranormal convention at a nearby city and won’t be back until tomorrow. Danny and his friends gladly took the opportunity to do their ‘Danny’s quarterly fitness test’.

Danny flipped on the light switch and walked to the center of the lab, transforming into his ghost form. “Okay I’m ready. What’s first on the list?”

Tucker dropped his bag and took out a piece of notebook paper, “Okay, first we gotta do the baseline measurements. Height, weight, temperature, and the ecto reading.” Sam dug through her sports bag, pulling out the measurement tape. She held it against Danny, eyes scanning the tape measurement numbers. “Still the same height.”

Tucker nodded, noting down the measurement in Danny’s health notebook. “Next, weight.” Danny stood over the scale. “Yup, still the same weight too.”

Then it was the ecto-samples that Jack misplaced in the kitchen fridge. Jack warned everyone a few days later (everyone knows to avoid glowing food on normal basis so the delayed warning is mostly just courtesy), but no one could find where it went and assumed it grew legs to join the other tiny ecto-samples lurking as their equivalent of household pests. (No matter how often Maddie tried to patch up the mouse hole it keeps reappearing in the same shape but in a different part of the house as if the original mouse hole got transplanted from its original location)

“Lunch Lady’s right. You need to eat more. You’re still as skinny as ever.” Sam remarked as Danny took the thermometer out of his mouth. “76 F. The ghosts keep attacking me all day and night. You’d think my parents would notice when a ghost sneaks pass them while they work in the lab but I triggered all their ghost alarms just by being in the house so they deactivated the system when I’m around. They must’ve kept it turned off during the day too.”

“Tough luck dude. Ecto scan next.” Tucker passed the scanner to Sam while Danny stood still for her to scan. The machine beeped, “Wow 6.8, that’s quite a jump from last quarter’s 5.1”

“Maybe it was from all the ghost fighting I did over the summer?”

As the leaves began to fall from the branches, ghost attacks lessened in frequency. Not looking the gift horse in the mouth Danny happily enjoyed the lack of ghost attacks to focus more on his studies. If he did well enough, he might even get Bs for his efforts. He also managed to avoid getting detention for the entire week much to the relief of everyone involved.

Two days before Thanksgiving, the Fentons finally remembered their turkeys. But by then it was gone. In a rush, they quickly purchased a pre-made turkey instead. While Danny enjoyed the fact that they’re having a normal family dinner for once, he can’t help but feel like there’s something off about the chicken. As if it’s missing a particular tangy or zingy flavor that would’ve made it richer in flavor. ‘Must’ve been because it’s overcooked.’

"Honey? Have you seen the new ecto-samples I placed in the basement lab fridge?" “Again Jack? This is the third time this month. Have you checked the upstairs fridge?” “I-ah was pretty sure I placed them in the correct fridge this time. Must be some no-good thievin’ ghost.” “I’ll set up the ecto-anti-theft, that’ll get ‘em good! No ghost can escape Jack Fenton for long!”

*Intruder Alert* *Intruder Alert*

Red lights peppered with robotic voice and alarm noises lurched Maddie into full alert mode. She quickly took stock of her surroundings and tried to wake Jack up. But Jack had his earplugs on and continued to snore blissfully. A loud knock on the door caught her attention. “What’s going on mom?” Jazz’s voice floated through the door. Maddie quickly rose to open the bedroom door, swiftly pulled Jazz in and locked the door. “Jazz dear, try to wake your dad up. I’ll go check on the intruder.” Maddie strode quietly to the door then paused, “Have you checked on Danny?” Jazz bit her lips and looked away for a moment “-ah yeah! Danny’s snoring so loud he can’t hear the alarm.” Maddie twisted the doorknob but paused, hesitating. “He’s fine mom.” Jazz reassures her. “If Danny wakes up, he’ll come here first. I’ll let him know what’s going on.”

The alarm rang loudly in her ears as she walked down the stairs to the basement lab, its loud ringing noise effectively covering up the sound of her footsteps. Reaching the basement floor, Maddie quickly crept over to hide behind the shelf on her left, eyes scanning the lab for the intruder.

The glass jars clinked as a shadow moved about the fridge. A very familiar shadow. That didn’t glow. Maddie turned on the lab lights. “Danny?” she started, carefully walking over to face him, her eyes still scanning him to check if he’s really her Danny. The faint, barely noticeable scar on his eyebrow from his attempt to fly off the tree when he was five is there confirming his identity.

“What are you doing down here-?” Maddie noticed the glowing jar in his hand, “and what exactly are you doing?” Danny hazily stared at her; eyes half-lidded. Maddie snapped her fingers to get his attention. Danny didn’t blink. “He's still not awake, Danny come on wake up!”, she shook his shoulders. “Huh? Wuzzat?” Danny groggily woke up. He blinked in confusion.

Finally aware of his surroundings, Danny looked down at his right hand that still held the glowing sample. “Aah!” Danny yelped dropping the sample, then realizing he dropped the sample, tries to catch the jar, fumbling clumsily. Maddie would’ve laughed if it was anywhere else but in this situation. “Danny, do you remember what you were doing?”

“I was doing my homework and was craving for a good cheeseburger?”

---

“And the half-opened jar of ectoplasm?”

“Pickles?”

---

“Dude are you for real? That was priceless!” Tucker crowed with laughter. Sam leaned away from Tucker to avoid the meat spittle, “Urgh! Gross Tucker! Swallow it before you speak!”

Danny grumbled into his glass of milkshake, “’s not funny Tuck. you didn't see her face. She was about ready to scan me for signs of ecto-possession. Good thing my lie about craving cheeseburger and opening the wrong fridge worked. Otherwise I’d be in big trouble if she scanned me now with my latest ecto-reading. Anyways I'm banned from the lab now.” Danny bit into his burger.

“So what really happened there dude? Did you seriously sleepwalk into the basement lab?”

“I think so? I don’t really remember anything before Mom found me in the lab. Only that I was feeling a bit hungry.”

The ghosts stopped coming. Everyone in Amity held their breath when there were no ghost attacks for two weeks straight, then a month. Then two months, three. No ghosts. They let out their collective breath. It might be too soon to hope but for now they will enjoy their ghost-free, perfectly ordinary life. It feels a bit strange to not have ghost related interruptions as part of their daily routine but they didn’t miss the ghost-related reconstruction expenses. The local insurance company employees received a nice bonus for the ghost-free month.

By the time March rolled in, Danny is restless. “Guys, there's definitely something big going on.”, he waved his hands for emphasis. “The Fenton portal is still open yet no ghost came through? Not even Boxy since the North District warehouse thing last month. There’s definitely something big going on. I've been taking the ghost-free break for granted for a while now and it helped save my grades but this is too big to ignore.”

“Dude, maybe it’s because you’re much more powerful now? Your latest reading last week is 8.2. None of the ghosts we’ve met so far is above 6 except for Vlad and the Ghost King.” Tucker suggested.

“You might have a point there, Tucker. We haven’t seen any of the ghosts bothering Vlad so far and he’s definitely higher than 6.” Sam added.

Danny frowned, “Maybe you’re right but I just have this nagging feeling that that’s not quite it.”

Danny entered the Zone with little fanfare. The area around the Fenton portal looked normal enough, the usual rocks and clouds of debris are still floating around in their usual areas. Danny aimlessly passed through the nooks and crannies, ducking under the endless spiral staircase, not entirely sure of what to look for. The Zone felt a bit quiet today but Danny haven’t been to the Zone that frequently to be certain about it.

The Ghost Zone, while still filled with random bits of odds and ends felt empty somehow. It wasn't until he sighted Skulker that he realized he hasn't seen any of the tiny blog ghosts nor the occasional passerby ghosts through his trip.

Luckily or unluckily, Danny quickly spotted someone he knew in the distance. As if called, Skulker turned his head towards Danny, then veered sharply to the left and flew fast in Danny's opposite direction, a first for the self-proclaimed hunter to not hunt his favorite prey. ‘Something's not right and Skulker definitely knows something.’ Danny thought.

Danny quickly chased after him; Skulker could never beat Danny at speed chase even at his best, and he won't be winning today's unplanned race either. “Hey Skulker! What’s going on?” Danny yelled over the gap between them but Skulker gave no reply, diving down deep into the reddish forest ravines of the island below. Not to be deterred, Danny did a quick aerial flip, adjusting his flight angle to follow down Skulker’s path. Danny soon caught up to Skulker and launched him into a nearby rock with sticky ectoplasm to hold him still long enough to talk. Skulker ejected from his metal suit but Danny was faster and caught the real ghost before he can escape.

(Why is Skulker fleeing?)

"Hey Skulker, not hunting me for once?" Danny asked teasingly.

Skulker paled (Danny never knew ghosts can turn pale) and squirmed even more. Danny's smile dropped.

"What’s going on Skulker?" he asked worriedly. “None of the ghosts have appeared in the human world and the Zone looks empty somehow”

Skulker squirmed a bit more but realizing he’s stuck finally said, “Ghost Child, haven’t you ever wondered why the Infinite Realms is never overcrowded?”

Danny frowned, puzzled as to where this leads to. “How is this related to this situation?” Skulker stared at Danny stunned.

“What?” Danny asked, suddenly self-conscious, “-was there something I was supposed to know about?”

Skulker sighed, unconsciously loosening a bit of his tension, “You’re so young. So very young. We Ghosts don’t fade as fast as Newcomers arrive from your world. In the Realms, there's a natural system that keeps the population under control. An ecosystem. There's predator and there's prey. And then there's the Apex Predator. There's a reason why Dark was feared. It wasn't just for his harsh rule. It was because he was the Apex Predator.”

Danny struck at the odd wording, "’Was’? Was that because he got sealed?” Danny paused, “But wait- if he's sealed, he would still be the Apex predator. So how-? Wait. Did I?"

Skulker nodded, "Good you're catching on fast. By defeating Pariah Dark, you have proven to the Realms that you're the best candidate for the Apex Predator. And with the new status comes sets of conducts, one your body instincts know well. You've been culling down the uncontrolled excess from Pariah Dark's sleep quite fast. Your hunger would settle down soon of course once balance has been re-established in the Realms."

“But- How- Wait- What-?” Danny looked down at his hand “Hey Skulker--!” but his hand is bare.

Danny’s lips tasted oddly tangy, energized.

-----

(Skulker might've slipped out of Danny's slack hand while Danny is in shock. Danny might've bit his lips hard enough to bleed. It's not that hard with his new fangs. But this is just speculation...)

#midnight snack au #danny phantom #dannymay2021 #DP ghost cannibalism #goldpost #Skulker BS'd on the spot and I took it as worldbuilding material #the added last part is the original ending #interpretation of the final ending is now up to you #😏😏😏

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gingeralepdf · 4 years

Text

Walk On By - Part 2

A/N: yay!!!!!! another installment in the shroomrry cinematic universe is here!! i want to say a huge thank you to el ( @harrytheehottie ) and brailey ( @daydreamsofh ) for being excellent beta readers and supporters. <3 <3

and thank you to everyone who has shown my writing love. i truly appreciate it so much. i hope you like this part just as much as the first one. :-)

if you haven’t read part 1, catch up here!!

🍄✨🌈✨🍄✨🌈✨🍄✨🌈✨🍄

****CONTENT WARNING**** alcohol consumption, mentions of drug use

You’re simply buying magic mushrooms from Harry. However, if you keep running into each other, is it going to stay that simple?

word count: just under 5k

**September 15th, 1977, Los Angeles, California**

The brakes on your car squeal as you pull into the last empty spot along the curb and shift into park. The music from your radio comes to an abrupt stop when you turn the key back to shut the engine off. Your head hits the headrest behind you before you empty your lungs into the silence.

Cars drive past on the street to your left. It’s just past five thirty, so all of the after work traffic is in full swing.

You’ve been avoiding this errand for two weeks now. There’s a record that you’ve been wanting to get your hands on ever since one of your coworkers played it at a work function. After looking through shelf after shelf in all of your favorite shops in L.A., and even making some calls to shops in surrounding areas, they’ve all come up short.

This seems to be your very last resort. Right across the street, sandwiched between a donut shop and a hair salon, is Jupiter House Records. From what you remember, this shop has a really good selection and variety, but the handful of unpleasant interactions you’ve had with the owner have been enough to make you look somewhere else. You’ve been stubbornly avoiding this place for years. Now you have a whole other reason for not wanting to spend hours in this store digging through to find your favorites or discover new ones.

Harry works here.

You haven’t seen him since he showed up on your doorstep to return your address book. The conversation you had with Jenny when she came home from work that evening plays through your mind again.

Both of you plop down on opposite sides of the couch in your living room. You sigh and take a big sip from your glass of wine before explaining the whole interaction to her, starting from the moment you opened the door to the moment you saw him drive away in his car.

Jenny grins. The only sound in the room comes from the ticking of the clock on the wall as you wait for her response. “I think he likes you.”

You squint. “That’s what you’re taking away from all of that?”

Her eyes widen and she springs forward, almost sloshing the wine out of her glass when she sets it on the coffee table. “Oh, so you’re telling me he saw the ‘If lost please return to..’ in your address book and decided to make a trip to our house to return it to you in person, when he could have just sent it in the mail?”

You can feel a crease forming between your eyebrows and you take in a sharp breath, fully prepared to counter her point, but she barrels through.

“And he wanted to ‘make sure you were okay’. Out of all the dealers that we’ve met, how many have just shown up at our houses to check up on us? Zero.”

You press your lips together. You can’t argue the fact that this alone sets Harry apart. However, this doesn’t mean he likes you. Maybe it just means that he’s the kind of person that goes the extra mile for the people he does business with. He could have easily left you and Jen sitting on the sidewalk after the concert, but he decided to help, to do what any other good-natured person would do.

“And let’s not forget how he threw the paper on the doorstep so you wouldn’t have to walk all the way down the driveway.” Jenny clutches her chest and swoons.

Scoffing at the way she’s adding dramatics, you challenge, “How do you know he didn’t show up here to see you?”

“He didn’t ask about me, did he?”

“No,” you begrudgingly mumble into your glass.

She grabs her glass from the coffee table and gives you a knowing look. She’s made her point, and the more it lingers like the aftertaste of wine, the more conflicted you become.

You’ve spent more idle moments than you’d like to admit since then thinking about the night you were sitting outside of the Forum. Thinking about what possessed you to lean in and study his face so closely. Was it solely the effects of the drugs? If that’s the case, then why do you want to go back to that moment so badly? And why didn’t Harry pull away? Did he really blush when you were staring at him? Was his heart really racing when you gave him a hug, or was that just your wild imagination?

The honking of a car brings you out of your thoughts. You take a deep breath and trill your lips. There’s a slight break in traffic. If you don’t get out of your car and cross the street now, you fear you’ll stay here stuck in your thoughts all evening.

With a huff, you rip your keys from the ignition and push your door open. You cross the street, walking with a purpose, and make it to the sidewalk.

The full strength of your nerves doesn’t hit you until you’re just in front of the store and the glass door swings out with a simultaneous chime of a bell. Your heart drops from your chest to your stomach and you freeze on the sidewalk to avoid colliding with the man exiting the shop.

When he stops to hold the door open for you, it takes you a moment to gather yourself. You mutter a ‘thank you’ as your hand firmly grips the cool metal of the door handle. Almost like you’re using it as a crutch to get you through the threshold.

Your shoes meet the shaggy mustard yellow carpet, matted down by years of customer traffic.

A woman that looks about your age greets you from behind a counter to your right. You return her half smile and she goes back to flipping through the magazine on the counter in front of her. The nametag on her floral shirt reads ‘Nora’. Behind her is a door with a red ‘EMPLOYEES ONLY’ sign taped to it.

Underneath the counter that she’s leaning on is a glass case holding records and cassette tapes, all marked ‘deluxe’ or ‘limited edition’. Spread out next to them are a few t-shirts, buttons, and stickers with the store logo printed on them.

You weren’t expecting it to be so quiet. Right now it seems like you and Nora are the only people in the store. The coast is clear. You can relax a bit. The adrenaline rush you were feeling on the other side of the door has now been replaced by the whirring of the air vents and David Bowie’s “Queen Bitch” playing over the speakers.

You turn to your left to take in the rest of the store, meandering into the first row of record shelves.

The large window taking up the entire front wall lets in plenty of evening sun that warms your skin through your shirt. More shelves, each one three tiers deep, line the rest of the walls and create aisles in the middle of the room.

Signs hanging from the ceiling above each section indicate the genre. The one you’re standing next to is labeled ‘new releases’ with a smaller font that reads ‘alpha by artist’. Other sections are labeled country, rock, disco, classical. Your eyes land on the back corner of the store where the funk, soul, and jazz sections are.

You make your way over while pulling your sleeves up to your elbows.

Unsure of which specific section the record you’re looking for will be in, you decide to start on one end of the corner and search all the way through to the other in hopes of finding it.

You fall into a familiar routine of searching through the first tier, then the second, leaning over to search through the top tier, and then taking a step over to start the whole process again.

Once you’re about halfway through the soul section, the bell on the door chimes again. You can’t be bothered to look, not wanting to lose your place.

“Hey, sorry I’m late.”

Goddamnit. Your hands freeze their movements and your heart begins to race all over again. You know exactly who just walked through that door.

“Harry,” Nora admonishes, “I finally have a date after two months and you’re gonna make me late.”

Harry’s mumbled response is drowned out by the loud creak of the door behind the counter, but judging by Nora’s gasp and the unmistakable thwack of a magazine, maybe it’s better left between the two of them.

You begin to slowly file through records again, this time not paying much attention to what you’re doing. More-so to give your hands something to do and appear busy while trying to hear the rest of their conversation.

Nora sighs, “It’s been really slow today. Hopefully it’s a slow night for you.” All you hear is some shuffling before she adds, “Oh, boss wanted me to remind you not to play the music too loud.”

“Did he? Dunno what he’s talking about,” Harry says, feigning innocence.

Nora laughs, “Whatever.”

The next thing you hear is the jingling of keys and footsteps across the carpet.

Harry raises his voice from the back room, “Are you gonna punch out?”

“Will you do it for me? I’ve gotta go.”

“Sure.”

The bell on the door rings and Nora yells from the doorway, “I left three boxes in the back for you to restock!”

“Oh thanks,” Harry yells back with sarcastic enthusiasm.

“Bye,” she sings as she walks out.

The door slams behind her. The bell’s high pitched ringing seems to hang in the air.

Silence falls on the room when the song playing over the speakers stops suddenly, making the room quiet enough to hear the traffic outside. You hear a needle drop and after a few seconds, the opening guitar notes of “Can You Get to That” by Funkadelic begin to play. The corners of your mouth turn down to fight a smile when the volume is promptly turned up much louder than what it was when you walked in.

You take a sharp breath in, realizing that you’re going to have to turn around at some point. Surely you can’t just stay in this corner and keep your back turned to him until the place closes. You don’t know what you’re going to say to him. Will he even recognize you after not seeing you for weeks?

There’s not much time to decide what to do when the sound of footsteps approaching on the carpet is getting closer to you.

Your heart leaps into your throat when you hear his voice.

“Finding everything alright?”

You turn your head to the left.

Harry is standing a few shelves apart from you with a box propped between the shelf and his hip. The sunlight from the window shines through the ends of his hair and the sleeves of his white t-shirt when he grabs a record from the box and reaches out to carefully wedge it back into the right place. You scan down to where his shirt is tucked into a pair of dark brown corduroy pants, and further down to see a pair of dirty white sneakers peeking out from the ends of the flares. When he turns his head to the box again, you notice that his mustache is significantly thinner from the last time you saw each other.

Heat rushes up your neck and onto your face when he glances up at you.

His hand pauses in the air and his eyebrows raise slightly before the corners of his mouth do the same, revealing just a hint of his dimples. His head tilts back and he blinks in surprise. “Oh… hi.”

You let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding when he addresses you by name. Mirroring his smile and turning your shoulders to face him, you reply, “Hi. I… didn’t know you worked here.”

A flat out lie, but thankfully he doesn’t seem too suspect about it.

He frowns and looks down at his shirt, pulling it out in front of him to reveal his nametag. “Hm. M’ afraid I do,” he says flatly.

A breathy chuckle leaves you, amused at the way he’s effortlessly making sarcastic remarks like this with you and his coworker. Quite different from the stiffly awkward interactions you’ve had with him. It’s like you’re seeing him in his natural environment. Him being at ease is having the same effect on you.

“Do you need help finding anything?” he asks, continuing his previous actions, this time with a soft smile.

“Actually, yes,” you clear your throat, “I’m looking for this specific record. I’ve looked all over for it by now. I’m pretty sure it should be in one of these sections if you have it, but...” you trail off as you cast a glance over your shoulder to the shelves you have yet to go through.

“I can take a look in our inventory. Save you some time?”

Of course. Why didn’t you just ask about that when you first walked in? “Sure. That would be great.”

Harry hoists the box into the crook of his arm with a faint grunt and you follow him over to the counter. After setting the box at the end of the countertop, he walks to the other end and reaches underneath the register, pulling out a large beat up binder with ‘inventory’ written on the spine.

It lands on the counter with a plop, probably due to the huge stack of paper inside, separated by multicolored tabs.

“What’s the artist’s name?” he asks after opening the binder to the first page.

“The Equatics.”

He pulls on the ‘A’ tab and folds it over.

“Oh, sorry, it’s Equatics with an ‘E’.”

He tuts and shakes his head before tracing his finger down and pulling on the ‘E’ tab. “Equatics with an ‘E’,” he mumbles.

You fold your lips between your teeth.

Now you’re thankful for the loud music filling the room as you’re standing wordlessly in front of the counter watching him flip through the pages of the inventory binder. Hair hangs in front of his face as his head is tilted down to scan over the pages, all filled with scribbles, arrows, and notes in the margins written in blue, black, and red ink. It all means nothing to you, especially looking at it upside down. You can only imagine how tedious it must be to keep up with.

With his left hand pressed flat against the counter, the expanse of his arm is right in front of you. Hopefully he can’t feel your eyes surveying his tattoos, at least the ones you can see from this angle. A small cross on his hand, an anchor on his wrist, the tail of a mermaid, a delicate rose near his elbow, a heart just beneath the hem of his t-shirt.

He inhales sharply and clears his throat into his fist, “Looks like we do have it. It’s actually in our as-is section.” As he’s speaking, he spins the binder in your direction and slides his finger almost to the bottom of the page to point out where it lists the artist, album title, and the section it’s in.

Despite the relief that comes with finally finding something you’ve been searching for, your face falls a bit. You know that ‘as-is’ is often just a nice way of saying that something is heavily used. “Does that mean it’s… damaged?”

Harry hums and tilts his head to the side, not meeting your eyes until he responds.

“Not always. Honestly we’re pretty much required to put stuff in that section even if it’s just the sleeve that’s messed up. Sometimes the record itself is still in great condition. You can still find some good stuff in there.”

“Okay. Where’s the as-is section?” You don’t remember seeing a sign for it when you walked in, unless you just overlooked it.

“Right. It's, uh, down this hallway here. Kind of hidden.”

Harry rounds the end of the counter and you follow him over to a doorway covered with a ruby red beaded curtain. Harry pulls it to the side and steps through first, pausing to hold the curtain back for you. You mutter a ‘thanks’ and step into a long hallway that extends to your right.

He releases the curtain, letting the beads crash together, before starting down the hallway.

Both walls are lined with floor to ceiling shelves full of cassette tapes, with each row of shelving just tall enough to fit their size. There’s so much packed in this long stretch of narrow space, like a condensed, fluorescent-lit cornucopia.

“I had no idea all of this was back here,” you comment, slightly dumbfounded that you probably would have overlooked this hallway entirely if it hadn’t been pointed out to you.

“Yeah, lots of people think it’s off limits because of the curtain. I need to put some signs up or something.”

As you’re walking behind Harry, you realize you were too distracted before to see print on the back of his shirt, let alone make out what it said. Bold purple font reads ‘MY MIND IS UP ON THE MOUNTAINS’ with a smaller font at the bottom that reads ‘(and i didn’t even have to climb)’. The words are surrounded by a sun, a few flowers, a picture of a mountain, and two mushrooms on the bottom.

A smirk creeps onto the corner of your mouth at how incredibly on the nose it seems for him. It makes you wonder if anyone here knows about his other job, or if he’s hiding in plain sight.

Once you’re both about a third of the way down the hallway, there’s a gap in the shelves on the right filled by a nondescript doorway.

“Here we are.” Harry stops and reaches on the other side of the doorway to flip the light switch before stepping back and gesturing for you to walk in first.

You step into a small room. It only contains two long folding tables pushed against opposite walls. Rather than fancy, neat shelves, the records here are stored in milk crates and cardboard boxes lined up on the tops of the tables. It almost looks like you’ve come across a garage sale.

You furrow your eyebrows and purse your lips to the side as you walk up to the first box at the end of the table closest to the door. When you reach in, Harry speaks up.

“I could help you look for a bit, if you want.”

Harry’s now leaning against the doorframe, running a hand against his jaw. Do you see a slight tinge of pink creeping onto his cheeks as well?

“I don’t really have anything better to do. Plus this section... isn’t really organized,” he continues.

You bring your attention back to the box in front of you, a sharp breath escaping your nose when you turn the Johnny Cash record back to reveal a Mozart one behind it. “I can see that.”

“But if you want to look around by yourself I understand, I can leave you to it,” he says, already slightly backing up into the hallway.

“No, I wouldn’t mind the company. You could take that table and I’ll take this one?” Your own words surprise you as you’re speaking them. Moments ago you had been dreading crossing paths with him again, but now that you’re having a moment that feels comfortable, you find yourself wanting him to stick around longer.

A curiosity is growing in your mind, wondering if Harry is feeling the same way, if that’s why he offered to help, if that’s why he slowly joins you in the room and mirrors your position at the table behind you so you’re not standing back to back.

You both search through the crates without a word, only the faint sound of the music from the front room coming down the hallway. Meanwhile, your thoughts are going back and forth between Jenny insisting that this man likes you and talking yourself out of that idea, insisting that he’s simply being nice, doing his job.

“How have you been?”

The question catches you off guard, taking a moment to realize that he’s actually said it out loud. “Um. I’ve been good. Nothing exciting going on, just working a lot. You?”

“I’m alright, thanks. I’ve been working a lot too. Where do you work? Don’t think I’ve asked you.”

“Do you ever listen to KIIS-FM?”

“Yes?” He responds, possibly thinking that you’re trying to shift the subject.

You smile to yourself, “You’re welcome. I’m a sound engineer there.”

“Oh shit,” he says enthusiastically. “That’s really cool. Do you like it?”

Briefly turning to look at him, your smile grows wider when you read the interest and excitement on his face. An expression you’re seeing for the first time in him, and it's because of something about you. Your heart flutters and you turn back to your table.

“Most days, I do. It can be a real dick fest sometimes though. Not in a good way.”

Despite mumbling the last sentence, Harry seems to still pick it up.

He barks out a laugh. You turn, eyes wide, to see his shoulders shaking and him covering his mouth with his hand.

When he turns back to you, clearly making a lot of effort to compose himself, he places his hand over his heart. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Oh yeah, the way you laughed really convinced me,” you lightheartedly roll your eyes.

“No it’s just… the way you said it was really funny,” he says, chuckling through his words. He continues, “So you studied engineering at UCLA then?”

Your eyebrows crease as his words hang in the air. You guess it’s not wild to assume that people who live in L.A. have attended UCLA. However, since you’ve never mentioned any kind of schooling to Harry, you can only gather that he’s making that assumption from the UCLA t-shirt you were wearing when he showed up at your house.

“I thought I remembered Jenny mentioning that you both went there.” His tone is cautious now, hesitant even. Like he’s picked up on his own blunder.

You decide to brush over it and simply nod, “Yeah, that’s how we met, actually.”

You return to looking through the crate in front of you. You gasp when you see the familiar red cover of the album you’re looking for.

You feel Harry turn around behind you. “Find it?”

You pull it from the crate. The bold red cover with a blue-grey circle in the middle, running your finger over the lines and arrows creating rings around it with a few stars placed here and there. You turn to smile at Harry, holding up the record in place of an answer, too excited to form words. The paper dust liner crinkles as you slide the plastic disc from the sleeve. Holding it by the edges, you tilt it to the left, to the right, and hold it up closer to the light to inspect it. Your shoulders visibly fall when you spot a long scratch running from the middle to the edge.

“Oh no,” you whisper, bringing the record closer to your face. You lightly run your finger over the scratch. It doesn’t feel rough, you actually can’t feel it at all. A fraction of hope is restored knowing that the scratch isn’t too deep into the grooves. However, there’s no way to know if it’s unplayable unless you actually try to play it.

Harry seems to read your mind. “You could test it out on the player up front if you want.”

“Really?” You spin around, seeming to shock him judging by the way his upper body slightly jerks back. “I mean-- I would appreciate that. If it’s not too much--”

He shakes his head, “It’s not a problem.” He walks toward the door where he waits for you to gather everything up.

The front of the store quiet once you both emerge from the other side of the curtain.

“I liked your choice of work music, by the way,” you say once you’ve both made it back to the counter, hugging your record to your chest.

“Oh yeah, Maggot Brain. S’ a fun album.”

You lean forward to rest your forearms against the smooth wood of the counter, waiting while he takes the record off the player to make room for yours. “Do you listen to a lot of funk music?”

“I do. I’ve never really understood why some people aren’t into it. What’s not to love, right?”

“Exactly! My coworker showed me this album and I think it’s one of my favorites now. It was recorded by this group of high school students in seventy two. They won some studio time in a contest or something and they really made the most of it.”

“Hm. M’ excited to listen to it now.” He stretches his hand out, “I’ll take that.”

You hand over the album. “Could you start it on track two? I think that’s my favorite one.”

“Sure.” He places the record on the player and carefully moves the needle in place.

A warm feeling washes over you when you hear the familiar soft guitar and drum beat at the beginning of the song. You both stand in place as the bass line comes in and all of the instruments’ parts crescendo.

Once the beat drops and the main guitar comes in, Harry turns to you with raised eyebrows and an impressed smile.

“Amazing, right?” you ask through a chuckle.

“It’s really good.”

“I know! And I don’t notice the scratch at all. It sounds perfect.”

“S’ exciting. I’m glad you found it.”

He walks over to where you are and starts to inspect the sleeve, turning it over to read the back. He adopts a similar position as you, forearms resting on the counter as he taps his fingers on his bicep to the beat of the song.

“That guitar part is amazing.”

He’s leaning close enough now that you can see a hint of stubble along his jawline and his upper lip. His cologne, a swirl of vanilla and something else you can’t quite put your finger on. He looks up when you don’t respond and you avert your eyes immediately.

“I think so too,” you mumble.

“I find it crazy how something really amazing can be right in front of you for so long and you never notice it or you just keep missing it.” A pause. “This has been in the back room for… I don’t even know how long, and I probably never would have listened to it if you hadn’t been looking for it.” Another brief pause as he scratches at his chin, seeming to be in deep thought. He shakes his head, “I don’t know. Maybe that’s weird, but I think about that kind of thing a lot.”

“I don’t think it’s weird. That can happen with… so many things, too.”

“Like people.”

His eyes quickly dance over your face. You swear they linger on your lips for a second before returning to meet your eyes.

“Like people,” you repeat. “And I think it is good to think about that stuff from time to time but… it can get overwhelming. Sometimes it could even distract you from the things you’re enjoying now.”

Your eyes do the same motions, glancing all over his face, lingering on his lips, and then back to his eyes. This feels extremely reminiscent of the night you were sitting outside of the Forum, when you were practically nose to nose after you had taken a whiff of his hair. You had been telling yourself that the gravitational pull you felt that night was solely induced by the shrooms. However, you seem to be feeling it again now as your eyes trace over the plane of his cheek, the tip of his nose, the arch of his lip.

A slight crease between his eyebrows slightly contradicts the almost tender look in his eyes. He opens his mouth like he’s about to speak.

Unfortunately he’s interrupted by the shrill ringing of the phone on the wall behind him.

You flinch at the sudden noise and Harry huffs in annoyance before clearing his throat into his fist.

He walks over to the player to turn the music down before answering the phone with a simple, clipped “Jupiter House.”

He covers the receiver with his hand and mouths ‘sorry’ to you before holding up a finger and going into the back room, closing the door until it's just cracked behind him.

You release a heavy sigh and rub your temples.

After a short conversation, Harry comes back and hangs up the phone.

“Sorry about that,” he mumbles, untangling the cord from his fingers. “Are you happy with this, then?” He asks, pointing to the record player.

“Uh- yes. Yes. I am.”

You go through the transaction in silence, watching the way Harry slides your record into a brown paper bag and the way he makes your change. At this moment, you’re wishing Harry came with a cartoon thought bubble over his head so you could know what he’s thinking right now. What exactly did he mean when he said ‘like people’? What was he about to say before he was interrupted?

He carefully folds and creases the paper, but instead of handing it over, he pauses, hands poised on the top of the bag.

“Sorry, I forgot something.” He opens the bag again and crouches down behind the counter.

“What--”

Before you can get your question out, his hand reaches into the glass case between you, hovering over the merchandise that you noticed when you first walked in. He picks out a button and a sticker. You hear them drop into the bag before he pops up from behind the counter.

“You didn’t have to--”

“I know.”

His smile and his voice are reassuring, absolving your confusion in a matter of seconds.

“Thanks for your help. It was nice running into you,” you smile, taking the bag and holding the record to your chest once again.

“Take care. I’ll see you around.” He smiles.

You back away from the counter and push open the door. The bell rings in your ears one last time.

*********************************************

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