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specialagentsergio · 3 years

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rationalizations

rationalizations: a defense mechanism in which one makes up a false but reassuring explanation to explain their behavior and/or feelings to both themselves and others, thus avoiding the reality of why they are really acting or feeling as they do.

summary: You’re the psych evaluation for Spencer. You think he’s full of shit, so you refuse to sign his clearance form until he actually tells the truth.

pairing: spencer reid x f!reader

category: angst (happy ending)

content warnings: spencer’s canonical trauma, flashbacks, mentions of suicide and suicidal ideation, swearing

a/n: i wrote this for @imagining-in-the-margins‘ enemies to lovers event. it’s not my favorite trope, but one of the prompts sparked inspiration for me. i also took a good amount of inspiration from meredith’s various therapy scenes in grey’s anatomy, so if some of it feels familiar, that’s why! i swear i intended to make this cute and funny, but, well… here we are lmao.

word count: 3.6k

masterlist

Spencer throws his bag onto his desk with a frustrated huff. It thumps loudly, startling JJ at her desk across from his. She gives him a sympathetic look regardless. “Still not cleared yet?”

“No!” Forgetting that it’s wheeled, he drops himself into his chair. It skids backwards and he has to scramble to grab something to keep from falling out of it.

“Careful there,” JJ says, trying valiantly to suppress a laugh. “That psychologist's got you really worked up, huh?”

“I don’t know what she wants from me!” he complains. “It’s been nearly a month! Hotch’s ex-wife was murdered by an unsub, but they cleared him. I was only shot in the neck.”

“I mean, that’s still kind of a big deal,” she says. “You could’ve died, from the gunshot, or from the nurse that tried to kill you afterwards.”

“Speaking of that nurse,” he starts, “Garcia is the one who shot him and she’s been a wreck over it. She insisted on going to the guy’s execution. But the therapist cleared her!”

“Penelope’s not in the field,” JJ points out.

He crosses his arms. “Still. This isn’t the first time I’ve been shot. That possibility is part of the job. It’s not like it came out of nowhere and I was completely unprepared for it.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Spence,” she says. “Just keep all of your appointments and I’m sure you’ll be cleared soon.”

He pulls a stack of papers on his desk towards him. Paperwork—one of the things he’s actually allowed to do. “I better be,” he mutters.

---

“And it was really scary, you know?” Spencer wipes at his eyes with a tissue. “Not knowing if I was going to live or die.”

“Mm-hmm.”

He takes a deep breath. “But… it’s over now. The preacher who shot me died in the same shootout. Owen McGregor, the leader of the corrupt deputies, died later that night, in another shootout. And Greg Baylor, the one who posed as a nurse and tried to kill me, was sentenced to death row and he’s gone now, too.”

His psychologist makes a note on the paper in front of her, but doesn’t say anything, so he continues.

“I… I feel better now, just letting that out.” He takes a new tissue and dries his nose. “I feel ready now. Ready to go back to work.”

She nods slowly, considering him. But she doesn’t even look towards her desk where the clearance form sits, frustrating him to no end. After five minutes of silence, he breaks.

“You can’t be serious.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I’ve been coming to these sessions for over a month, and I’m still not cleared to be in the field. I…” He musters up more tears and makes sure his voice wavers during his next words. “I just don’t know what you want? I’ve tried everything.”

“No, you haven’t,” she says plainly.

He blinks in surprise, sending some of the crocodile tears down his cheeks. “What?”

She crosses her legs. “You’re full of shit.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not being honest with me, and I don’t think you’re being honest with yourself either,” she says. “You’re a great actor. I can see how you’ve gotten clearances easily before. But that stops with me.”

Spencer stares at her. “I don’t understand.”

She moves her notebook to the side. “What happened in Texas isn’t the first time your life’s been in danger. Why do you think that is?”

“Wh—that’s part of my job,” he argues, fake crying long since forgotten.

“Not to the extent that you take it. I’ve read your file,” she says. “You take unnecessary risks with regularity.”

The tissues crumple in his hand as he clenches it. “I do not.”

“Let’s go back to the beginning.”

“The beginning of what?”

“Of your career.” Yet she doesn’t take out his file, or look at her notes. She speaks from memory. “2005. The BAU is assisting with a hostage situation. You go into the train, posing as someone who is there to remove a microchip from the unsub, but the first thing you do? You take off your bulletproof vest.”

“Okay, clearly you don’t understand what the situation was,” Spencer cuts in. “Ted Bryar was suffering from a psychotic break. He was somewhat unpredictable, and he told me to take off the vest.”

“And you just listened?”

“He—he had a gun, and was threatening both me and the other passengers with it!” he says. “What was I supposed to do, not listen?”

“Uh, yeah,” she replies. “You easily played into his delusions just a few minutes later to distract him. Why not do that to keep yourself safe?”

“I was twenty-four and was running on adrenaline,” he says defensively. “And it was my first time doing something like that. You can’t expect me to think of everything.”

“You’re right, I can’t,” she agrees. “So let’s jump forward a few years. How about the time you approached a teenager who was wielding an assault rifle with no protection, not even your own firearm?” she challenges.

“You mean Owen Savage? That was a unique situation,” he protests. “I knew I could talk him down.”

“No, you didn’t. You thought you had a good chance, but there’s no way to be one hundred percent sure of that. He was volatile, and on a killing spree,” she counters. “You didn’t know if you’d succeed--”

“I did!” He startles himself by unconsciously raising his voice, but he doesn’t apologize. “I did, because….”

“Because you related to him,” she fills in. “And that’s fine. Having empathy for an unsub doesn’t suggest something’s wrong in and of itself. But you still put yourself, and the rest of your team, in danger, didn’t you?”

He crosses his arms. “I got that lecture from Hotch when it happened, okay?”

“So then why’d you confront an unsub alone a few years later in Miami?” she asks. “You didn’t even tell anyone where you were going. You left your vest behind and just ran off.”

“I was having a head—wait, how do you even know that happened?” he questions. “It wasn’t in the report.”

“Well, first of all, you just confirmed it,” she points out, and he wants to kick himself. “Secondly, I can read between the lines.”

“I was having a headache,” he repeats. “I wasn’t thinking all that clearly. I just knew Julio’s life was in immediate danger, so I went to help him.”

“Uh-huh. More recently,” she says, brushing past his excuse, “You confronted your girlfriend’s stalker without your vest or gun.”

Spencer’s getting angry now. “I was trying to save Maeve. She asked me to leave them behind.”

“And you simply listened. Do you see the pattern I’m drawing here, Dr. Reid?” she asks. “These are just a few of the instances that stand out. Time and time again, you put yourself in unnecessary danger. So I’ll ask you again. Why do you think that is?”

Spencer looks over her—really looks over her, trying to understand what she’s getting at. “Are… are you suggesting that I’m suicidal?” he asks quietly.

She looks him straight in the eye. “You don’t act like someone who wants to be alive.”

It’s like she set off a bomb in his brain. Memories, and the feelings attached to them, emerge—Elle handcuffed to a seat, a teenager with a rifle, a blinding headache, Maeve and blood on the warehouse floor.

“Here’s what I see,” she says. “I see a man who’s been through so, so much. Your mother is mentally ill, your father left--”

His father is packing a suitcase. Spencer doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do or say, so he falls back on what he knows.

“Statistically, children who grow up in two-parent households attain three more years of higher education than children from single-parent households.”

It doesn’t help. “We’re not statistics, Spencer.”

“Your file says she’s staying at an institution, and with your father out of the picture, I can only assume you were the one who had her admitted--”

“Spencer, please don’t do this to me!” she cries as she’s escorted out of the house by Bennington Sanitarium’s transport staff.

“A few years into your work here at the FBI, you were kidnapped, tortured and drugged--”

He’s tired and cold and his whole body aches. Tobias—the real Tobias—looms over him with a syringe.

“Please. I don’t want it,” he pleads of his captor. “I don’t want it, please.”

The needle punctures his skin regardless.

“—you were held hostage by a cult leader--”

Emily sits across from him on the plane with a black eye. “What Cyrus did to me is not your fault.”

He pretends to agree.

“—you went through the death and reappearance of Agent Prentiss--”

He’s tried to make it clear to Jennifer that he wants to be left alone, but she won’t stop trying to talk about it with him, and he’s had enough.

“I came to your house for ten weeks in a row crying over losing a friend, and not once did you have the decency to tell me the truth.”

“—and your girlfriend was shot in front of you.”

“Who’s Thomas Merton? Who is he?” Diane demands, gun pressed against Maeve’s head.

“He’s the one thing you can never take from us,” Maeve replies, and Spencer’s heart drops. Thomas Merton is Maeve’s way of saying goodbye—she’s giving up.

“Wait!” he cries out, but it’s too late.

“This is just some of the more traumatic stuff. And then there’s what happened last month, which is why you’re here. You present a face of not being bothered by all of this, because that’s what you’ve been doing all your life, but I think you are bothered. You really, really are. And you don’t want to admit to anyone just how much it all has affected you. Maybe you don’t even want yourself to know.” Her expression and tone of voice are certain.

Spencer can’t take it anymore. The whirlwind of emotions and memories is overwhelming.

“The number of times you’ve almost died is staggering--”

“Yeah, and sometimes I wish I had!” He glares at her, breathing heavily. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”

But she doesn’t seem intimidated or alarmed at all. She leans back in her armchair. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

The response only serves to make him angrier. She questioned him relentlessly and made him admit something he swore in the dark hours of sleepless nights that he’d never think again, never voice, let alone admit to anyone. She forced it out of him, forced. She made him say it against his will.

So why does he feel a sense of relief?

“I…” Tears well up in his eyes—real ones this time. “I’m done,” he chokes out.

He pushes himself off of the couch and out the door, slamming it shut behind him.

---

He storms in Hotch’s office and demands to see a different psychologist. But she was one step ahead of him—a few hours before the appointment, she had emailed Hotch and told him that under no circumstances should Spencer be allowed to get a clearance from someone else.

“And you’re going to believe her?” he cries.

“She’s doing her job, Reid.”

“You barely know her! You’ve known me for a decade!”

“Yes, I have,” Hotch agrees. “And you’ve told me yourself that you’ve fooled psychologists and therapists before. So if this one is saying you’re not ready yet, I’m inclined to believe her.”

Spencer just stares at him, but as usual, Hotch doesn’t blink.

“Unbelievable,” Spencer eventually mutters.

“Take the rest of the day off,” Hotch replies, glancing down at fists Spencer hadn’t realized he was clenching.

“Fine.”

Too agitated to stand in the elevator, he takes the stairs. As he stomps down them, he swears he’ll never go back to her office, even if it means never going into the field again.

A week passes, then two, and he hasn’t seen the psychologist since. But he doesn’t feel any better—he actually feels worse. It’s like her words broke a dam in his mind, in his gut, and feelings of unease and uncertainty won’t pass. It keeps him up at night. Her words echo in his head. “You don’t act like someone who wants to be alive.”

Spencer’s had yet another sleepless night and is struggling not to doze off at his desk despite the coffee he’s drinking. He stands up with the intention of splashing some water from the bathroom sink on his face, but his feet take him somewhere else.

He stares at the nameplate on the door. He swore he’d never go back, yet he feels compelled to knock.

It only takes her a few moments to answer. “Dr. Reid. Can I help you?” she asks.

“I…” He sighs. “Are you busy?”

“No. Come on in.” She steps to the side, opening the door wider to let him pass. He sits down on the couch.

She waits patiently. She doesn’t rush him. She lets him speak first.

He wrings his hands in his lap, staring down at them. “Something you said is bothering me.”

“What was it?”

“About… living,” he admits quietly. “I… I think you might have been right.”

When he gets the courage to glance up at her, he finds a soft smile on her face. “Would you like to talk about it?”

Spencer hadn’t realized he was expecting judgment and disdain until it didn’t happen. His shoulders slump down in relief. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I think I would.”

---

“You’re still thinking about her, aren’t you?”

Spencer looks up from his paperwork, slightly out of it, to find Derek watching him. His coworker had, indeed, caught him thinking about her again. His psychologist. Well, former psychologist. After his second session back with her, she’d handed over a clearance form and a referral to a therapist outside the bureau to see long-term.

“And you better follow up with that,” she’d told him, the corner of her mouth turning up despite her serious tone of voice. “I’ll know if you don’t.”

He’d promised that he would, and had followed through. But despite the progress he was making with the new therapist, he was feeling a little disappointed that he didn’t get to see her anymore. He only saw her in passing, sometimes in the elevator or walking down the hallways of the building. They would exchange hellos, she would ask how he was doing, then give him a little wave as she left. Each time his heart would skip a beat, and he’d feel an urge to follow her to wherever she was going.

Yet he hadn’t quite realized why he seemed to be preoccupied with her until a dream he had a few weeks ago—a dream in which he found himself kissing her. Despite being alone in his bedroom, he’d woken up feeling embarrassed. He promised himself that he would put her out of his mind. Having a crush on his psychologist? It was ridiculous.

But then he saw her in the elevator a few days later and he couldn’t help but analyze her body language. It was open, and she twirled her hair around a finger while she looked at him to ask him how he was. A few other people entered the elevator on the next floor, but her attention remained on him. They were subtle signs, but signs that he recognized nonetheless—signs of attraction. And once he started seeing them, he couldn’t stop.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Spencer tells Derek, picking back up the pen he hadn’t noticed he dropped.

“You can’t pull that on me, kid,” he replies. “It’s your psychologist. You can’t stop thinking about her, can you?”

Spencer sighs. “So what if I can’t?”

“So go ask her out already!” Derek says like it’s obvious.

“You don’t think that’s just a little inappropriate?”

“You’re not seeing her as a client anymore, are you?” he points out. “Go for it, kid. You’ll regret it if you don’t.”

Spencer takes the advice—as soon as Derek said it, he knew he was right. He would regret not taking a chance on her and the connection he felt. Sure, she’d helped him with therapy, but it went deeper than that. It feels like she knows him.

He leaves the bullpen ten minutes early that evening, hoping to catch her before she leaves for the day. On her doorstep, he feels just as nervous as he did on the day he admitted that she was right, but it’s a different kind of nervous. An excited nervous. He knocks on the door.

She’s surprised when she seems him. He watches as her pupils dilate, and it boosts his confidence. “Dr. Reid. Can I help you?”

“You can. I’d like to talk,” he says.

“Oh. Well, I guess I could do that,” she says. “I thought things were going well with the therapist I referred you to, though.”

He shakes his head. “No, I don’t mean I want an appointment.”

Her eyebrows come together in confusion. “Okay, then, what do you want?”

Spencer doesn’t hesitate. “I want to take you out to dinner.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I really like you, and I think we’re meant to be together,” he replies, voice softening a bit.

She pauses before answering. When she does, her voice is gentle. “Dr. Reid, sometimes a medical professional’s care can start to feel like affection over a period of time, but--”

“No one has ever listened to me like you do,” he interrupts.

“That’s my job,” she points out.

“I’ve seen therapists before, but none of them have been like you,” he counters. “You understand me.”

She sighs. “Well, I’m glad I was a good fit and was able to help you. But that doesn’t mean that I see you as anything more than a client.”

“You’re lying.”

“Excuse me?”

“You do feel something more for me,” he says firmly, but then backtracks a little. “Well, I know you’re attracted to me at least.”

She blinks and shakes her head slightly, take aback. “Dr. Reid, this is not appropriate--”

“Please call me Spencer,” he says, then jumps into his explanation. “See, when we’re attracted to someone, our bodies display involuntary signals, and I’ve seen you do some of them when you’re around me. Whenever we run into each other here, your body will turn a little towards me and you’ll play with your hair. Your attention is almost entirely focused on me. And, when you see me, your pupils dilate. They did it when you opened the door just a few minutes ago. Oh, and I’m attracted to you, by the way,” he adds as he realizes how one-sided he’s been. “I imagine my pupils probably dilate when I see you, too.”

Her mouth opens and closes a few times, like she wants to speak but doesn’t know what to say. She looks flustered, and he wonders if maybe he’s pushed it too far or said too much, but he can’t turn back now. “So, please, let me take you out,” he says quietly. “Just… just give it a chance.”

She bites her lip and looks at the ground. There’s a crease between her eyebrows, which he’s come to learn means she’s thinking. She speaks seriously when she looks back up. “If I go out with you, I can’t treat you anymore. If you ever need another evaluation or session, you’d have to get it from someone else.”

“I know,” he says. “I get along well with the therapist you referred me to, though. And having to get clearance from a different psychologist at the bureau is something I’m willing to give up in favor of getting to know you better.”

She considers him. “You’re serious about this,” she states.

It’s not a question, but he answers it anyways. “I am.”

She tilts her head to the side, eyes unfocusing as she ponders the situation. Eventually, she says, “Let me think about it.”

It’s not exactly the answer he was hoping for, but he’ll take it.

---

It’s only six PM, but Spencer is already exhausted. He unlocks his apartment door, fully intending to collapse onto his bed, but instead receives a pleasant surprise in the form of his girlfriend waiting for him on the couch. He can’t help but smile.

“Sweetie, what are you doing here?” he asks, then adds, “Not that I’m complaining.”

“Penelope told me it was a bit of a rough case,” she replies. “And I missed you.”

She holds out her arms and he takes the invitation, joining her on the couch and laying down between her legs, placing his head on her chest. “I missed you, too.”

Her next words are overly familiar. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Hey, we agreed to no therapy,” he says. “Something about I can’t be your client anymore?”

She huffs. “This isn’t therapy. This is being a good partner.”

Spencer smiles into the fabric of her shirt, snuggling in closer. “I know, I’m just teasing you. I don’t need to talk about the case,” he says, finally answering her original question. “I feel fine now that I’m here with you.”

She lets out a pleased hum and starts running her fingers through his hair. “I ordered take-out for dinner, by the way.”

“Where from?”

“You know where.”

A wide grin spreads across his face. She must have ordered take-out from the restaurant he took her to on their first date. He lifts his head to look her in the eye. “Aren’t you glad you said yes to me all those months ago?”

“Oh, I suppose,” she says with pretend annoyance, rolling her eyes.

Then she kisses him.

Spencer’s never been so happy to be alive.

---------------

tell me what you thought here!

please note that i DO NOT ENDORSE asking out your therapist/former therapist. this is fanfiction. thank you.

general taglist: @calm-and-doctor , @spencerreid9

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid angst #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds self insert #spencer reid #angst #my fic #i just cannot stop myself from writing about mental health issues and treatment can i

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arcturusreads · 3 years

Note

Hi are you still accepting prompts? if you do here’s one: Hayes doing something special for Meredith’s birthday.. No pressure though take your time writing you are such a great writer💕

Celebrate - Merhayes

Thank you so much, that means the world! Hope you enjoy x

Meredith Grey had never been one to celebrate her birthday. Ellis had never bothered with birthday parties for her little girl, the day was never made a fuss out of. By the time Meredith had moved out and one to college, she didn’t see the point in celebrating it. It was only after meeting Derek that her own birthday began to have special memories attached to it. He’d pestered her for months about when her birthday was and was mortified when she at last told him and had found out that he was two months late. The date was now permanently etched into his brain and he made sure that regardless of how lowkey the celebration might be, Meredith would always celebrate another turn around the Sun. Ferry boats, dinners and long drives had become the tradition and Meredith found herself looking forward to it.

Since her husband’s passing though, Meredith had stopped bothering again. Whilst she made sure she went all out for her kids, she would stop her sisters and friends from doing anything that resembled celebration for her. Maggie had put her foot down and yelled when Meredith tried not to accept the present that’d been gifted to her though. Her kids would bake her a cake with the help of their aunt’s, with homemade cards and presents and Meredith thought it was perfect. That was all she needed for her birthday. That and a good surgery.

After six months of dating Meredith and having celebratedhis own birthday with her, Cormac was beginning to get curious as to when Meredith’s was. When he had asked her once before she just laughed it off, saying that he would have to find out himself. So, he’d een on a hunt to figure it out. It seemed that Meredith had briefed the entire hospital staff on not letting him know her birthday.

Hie’d asked both Amelia and Maggie multiple times but neither of them would let up. Amelia seemed to enjoy watching Cormac’s torture over not knowing the date whlst Maggie seemed pained that she couldn’t say anything, reminding Cormac every time he asked that she was not willing to face her sister’s wrath .

Cormac and Maggie were stoof across each other in the OR when he tried one more time. “You know, I wouldn’t let her find out that you told me…”

Maggie knew exactly what he was on about without having to ask. She just shook her head as she continued to work. “I’m the first person Meredith would come to if she found out that you knew. She knows that I’m terrible at keeping secrets. Remember when you two told me you were dating.”

It had be pure tiorture for Maggie not to say anything to anyone else. She was fit to burst with happiness for her sister but she hadn’t been allowed to say a word for three months. She’d spent way too much time ranting to Ameliia about why she wasn’t able to understand the reason that Cormac and Meredith wasnted to keep their relationship a secret. When the couple had finally told everyone, Maggie had felt a weight lift off of her shoulders and Meredith wsa pleasantly surprised at how well her sister was actually able to keep a secret.

“Why are you so desperate to know about her birthday, anyway?”

Cormac gave her a flat look, “She’s my girlfriend, Pierce. I feel like it’s something that I should know.”

“It’s not like you’re going to be able to do anything with the information. You know that she doesn’t like to celebrate.”

Cormac gave her a knowing look, “That’s because you’ve always given her an option.”

After a touch-and-go surgery, Cormac headed up to his office to grab some files before a consult. As he stepped into room, he felt shoe slid against something on the floor. Not the usual grip the carpet would give him. Looking down, he saw a small sheet of paper. As he picked it up to take it to the bin he saw some writing on it.

‘September 19th but I didn’t tell you -M’

Cormac smiled, he owed Maggie big time. Making a mental note of the date, Cormac knew it wasn’t one that he would forget anytime soon, he scrunched up the paper and tossed it into the bin. Plans began to form in his mind as he went about his day. He had two weeks and that was more than enough.

***

When September 19th rolled around, Meredith was treated to breakfast in bed courtesy of her kids with a side of birthday cake. Meredith arched a brow at the cake and looked at Amelia who just shrugged.

“It’s your birthday, you can have cake at 7am!” She defended quickly as the kids crawled up on the bed next to Meredith.

After opening her cards and presents and sending the kids off to school, Mer headed straight to the hospital. She had a whipple at 9 AM that she was looking forward and a fully booked day of surgeries after that. There was nothing more that she could have wanted for the day.

The entire day had gone by and Meredith thought it was strange that she hadn’t even caught a glimpse of her boyfriend. Even on their most busy days, they would end up finding time to at least have a coffee together but he hadn’t even messaged her. A younger Meredith would have worried that something had gone wrong, that he was angry with her for some unknown reason but these days, she was able to be a little more rational, if not completely. He must just be busy with consults and surgeries, or maybe the boys had something on that had slipped her mind when he mentioned it. Whilst Cormac didn’t know it was her birthday and she wasn’t planning on celebrating, it would have been nice to see him for a minute.

After getting changed back into her street clothes and grabbing her bag, Meredith made her way out of the hospital, ready to get home. She was a few steps away from her car when she felt a arm slip around her waist and a kiss pressed onto her temple.

“Sorry I haven’t had a chance to see you today,” Cormac’s Irish lilt immediately ebbed away any tiredness she had been feeling as she leaned into his side. “Forgot I had a meeting with Bailey this morning and then had back-to-back surgeries.”

Meredith took a second to breath in familiar scent of her boyfriend. It never failed to make her feel safe. “Was everything okay?”

“Mostly, got a 10-year-old boy in the ICU right now but Schmitt will page me if anything happens.”

Meredith suddenly realised that during the course of the conversation, Cormac had veered them away from her car. “Uh, my car is back there.”

Cormac have a light squeeze to her waist, “I know but I haven’t had a chance to see you today so let me take you home.”

“My car though…” She trailed off, not really bothering to put up a fight. Meredith had missed him wasn’t going to say no to being able to spend a little time with him on the drive home.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow and you can take it home after your shift.”

“As long as you don’t mind…”

Cormac rolled his eyes at her, smiling, “I wouldn’t offer if I did, come on.”

As Cormac drove away from the hospital, Meredith leaned her head back against the headrest and closed her eyes for a minute. She slowly opened them as she felt Cormac’s hand rest on her thigh and gave him a smile.

“Wait, where are we going?” Meredith looked out the window to realise that this wasn’t the usual route home.

Cormac grinned at her quickly before looking back at the road, “Just thought we would take a detour.”

“A detour where?” She asked, slightly sceptical.

When Cormac didn’t reply, she decided to continue pressing for answers. “You know I have kids at home? Alone, right now?”

“Well, I know that’s a lie because I saw Winston before he left two hours ago who said he was going to your house to keep an eye on the kids.”

“Hmm…” Meredith both admired and hated how Cormac had an answer for everything. It was infuriating at the best of times but he was one of the only people she knew that could match her toe-for-toe.

After a while, Meredith saw that they were out of the city limits. “You know, if you don’t want to be with you just have to say, no need to drive me into the middle of nowhere to kill me and dump the body.”

“Oh ha ha,” Cormac laughed drily, “Like you would ever make it easy for me to kill you anyway….”

Meredith smirked at him, a wicked glint in her eye, “As long as you know.”

The car had now left the main road, and trundled along a dirt road, the only source of light coming from the headlights of the car. Meredith had no clue where they were or what was going on.

“Seriously, Cormac, where are we going?”

“Seriously, Meredith,” he jokingly mocked, “Can you be quiet?”

“Fine,” she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest.

It wasn’t later when Cormac turned the car engine off and turned to Meredith. “Come on,” he jumped out of the car and jogged over to her side to open the door.

Taking his hand to step out, she looked around. “Whe-“

“Don’t even finish that sentence,” He grinned at her, stopping Meredith before she had the chance to say anything else. “Just trust me.”

Meredith let Cormac take her hand and guide her. She wasn’t entirely sure how he could even tell where he was going in the dark.

“Are you taking me up a hill?”

Her question found no answer and all that there was left for her to do was to huff out a breath and follow Cormac. Eventually she saw some light up at the top of the hill and squinted, trying to make out what was going on. When they were finally close enough to make out what was going on, Meredith stopped in her track to take everything in. Trees were sparsely dotted around with fairy lights hanging from all of them. In the middle was a black pickup truck. The bed of it was covered with pillows and blankets with a picnic basket nested in the middle. Stretched between two trees was a canvas sheet, projected on it were the opening credits for ‘Maid in Manhattan’, one of the few movies that Meredith was able to time and time again.

“What is all this?” She turned to look at Cormac who had a sheepish look on his face.

“Happy birthday, Meredith,” his voice was a gentle whisper.

“You did this for my birthday?”

“Look, I know you don’t like celebrating it and I know you really didn’t want me to know but,” Cormac rubbed the top of his head, “You’ve survived so much, Meredith Grey, and that deserves to be celebrated. I deserve to have the chance to celebrate you. So, you can’t yell at me about this.”

Meredith stepped towards him, wrapping her arms around her neck, “How can I argue with that?” She grinned at him before pulling him in for a kiss.

#merhayes #meredith grey #cormac hayes #cormac x meredith #mcwidow #grey's anatomy #excuse me whilst i rearrange the alphabet

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fan4196 · 3 years

Text

The truth

Hey everyone, here's another one. Hope you like it. Enjoy!

Big thank you again @angry-slytherin :)

"Hey. How are you?" Jo asks with a smile under her mask as she walks into Mer's room.

"Let's say better. Not great, but ok for someone who survived covid." Mer answers, looking tired over her own mask.

"You really scared us there. I'm happy you're better again. Your kids missed you so much." Jo nods with a toothless smile as she sits down on the chair beside the hospital bed.

"You talked to them?" Meredith asks surprised, as she watches her friend sit down.

"Yeah, I got my second shot the other day, which Link immediately used to talk me into babysitting Scout, and your kids happen to live in the same house." She says with a laugh.

"Amelia and Link really left you alone with four kids?" Mer immediately asks surprised.

"Yup. They are taking advantage of my new found love for tiny humans." She laughs, watching Meredith closely as she leaves this little hint about her intent now that Mer is fully conscious.

"Oh I heard you when you talked to me about that. You know Cristina and I used to make fun of Alex and the vagina squad back when we where interns. You really wanna join the pink scubs?" The soft tone and little smile on Mer's face calm Jo down. Knowing that Mer wasn't going to talk her out of it or judge her in any way let her nervous heart slow down.

"Yeah." Jo smiles. "I need some joy in my live and I think the vagina squad will bring me that."

"I'm happy for you, if that's what you want, even though I think that you'll miss the OR and all the cool surgeries with in a week." The older one says with a laugh.

"We'll see." Jo smiles.

It's silent in the room for a few seconds until Mer starts with a completely different topic, that Jo wasn't quite ready for.

"I think you should call Alex," the blonde breaks the silence, this time in a way more serious tone.

"What?"

"You should call him." She nods, trying to show the brunette her seriousness.

"Do you- Did Levi tell you-"

"Levi? What does Schmitt have to do with- no. I guess I have to start from the beginning." Mer starts, talking about her dreams. How she was able to see her loved once on a beach; talking to them.

"So you're telling me, that you saw people on a beach while you where sleeping? Like a dream?" Jo asks more confused than ever, not quite getting what her former mentor was trying to tell her.

"Yeah, well it felt stronger than a dream; more real than normal dreams. I was able to see people; talk to them, even touch some of them. Even before they put me on the vent I saw Derek and George." Mer tried to explain the experience she couldn't quite understand herself.

"But this time you saw Izzie?"

"Yeah and she told me that she died five years ago and that she never had kids; she never used the eggs. I know it may sound crazy and I don't expect you to believe me but what if it's true? What if Izzie's really dead? I've been near to death before, I saw Denny Duquette and that bomb guy, even my dog and mother. And they are indeed dead. So what if Alex left for whatever stupid, dump ass reason he thought was worth leaving us and is not with Izzie or his kids. Wouldn't you want to know if he left because he developed schizophrenia and didn't want to burden you with it?" Meredith asks, watching Jo closely, knowing that the Alex topic is still a really sore point for her.

"You are right. It really sounds crazy."

Jo immediately answers, defensive, putting her walls up as soon as she heard her ex-husbands name. And as quick as her mood changed she gets up and is about to leave and escape the situation she really can't be in, when something falls out of her lap coat pocket.

"Jo wait! I'm sorry- Jo!" Mer tries to scream after her, but the brunette is out of the room faster than Mer is able to hold her back.

As Meredith falls back in her pillow she sees Levi walking by.

"Schmitt! Get in here. Pick that up for me." She calls him before he's passed by.

Happy but also intimated by the big Meredith Grey he of course does what she wants and picks up the upside down white square from the floor, handing it to his superior.

"Is that yours?" He asks a little surprised as he sees that the paper turns out to be an ultrasound picture.

"No- It's Jo's." Mer answers just as surprised as the resident as she looks at it closer.

"Oh so you know? Thank god, I'm so happy that I'm not the only one anymore that knows about this. I'm actually a little concerned about her. Her morning sickness is really bad. It's more like an all day sickness and her mood swings- not fun. I bought the wrong cream cheese the other day-"

"Schmitt! Shut up! I didn't know until now." She shuts him up, looking up from the picture to throw him a look.

"Oh."

"Yeah oh. Now get me my phone, I need to make a call." She orders, holding her hand out while she's looking at the ultrasound picture again.

"Hello?"

"Ahm hi. Is this Alex Karevs phone?" Meredith asks confused as a female voice she never heard before greets her from the other side of the call.

"Yes, is it." The woman on Alex's phone answeres friendly. A little to friendly and casual for Mer's liking.

"Then who are you?" She tries to find out who the hell is currently speaking to her.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I heard it ringing from the kitchen and just picked it up. Alex isn't here, he's at the park with the kids-"

"That's not answering my question. Who are you?" Mer interrupts, before the female can keep going. Slowly but surely the mood of the blonde is shifting.

"Well, who are you?" The woman on Alex phone asks back, also slowly losing the friendliness she had just two minutes ago.

"Oh no, I'm not playing this game. Who are you and what are you doing on my friend's phone." Mer starts, ready to scream if this woman won't finally tell her what she wants to know.

"Good. I'm not playing this game either so-"

The woman gets interrupt mid sentence. You can hear rustling and arguing through the phone until the voice Mer wanted to hear in the first place answers.

"Hello?"

"Alex?" She asks, even though she recognized his voice right away.

"Mer?" He asks back, rather surprised, but happy.

"Where the hell are you? Who was that woman? Do you have kids? I know your not in Kansas, Alex. Izzie is dead. What the hell is going on?" She starts shooting off questions without letting him answer.

"Wow, Mer chill-"

"Chill? I'm not going to chill, asshole. You better tell me that the hell is going on-" She needs to stop mid sentence as a wave of coughing overcomes her; an aftereffect she still has from COVID.

"Mer are you ok?" Alex immediately asks concerned.

"No I'm not ok. I almost died of COVID, I was in an induced coma and could have really needed the person on my emergency contact to pick up his stupid phone, to decide what to do next when I wasn't able to." She starts calling frustrated.

"Fuck- I'm so sorry, Mer-"

"Yeah, you better be. Now answer my questions." She comes back to the original topic why she called.

"Ok- I'm not in Kansas. I'm not with Izzie, I'm with my sister, Amber and her kids. She's pregnant and her husband is trapped in Europe because of Covid. I'm helping her with the house and the kids." He starts explaining.

"But there was no Covid when you left-"

"I know. I came here because my brother- well he tried to kill himself. His schizophrenia got worse, Mer. He was not taking his medication, he- ahm he hurt several people and raped three nurses in the facility he was staying in. They put him into prision, where he tried to kill himself and now he's at the hospital where no one's allowed to visit him because of Covid. My mom couldn't handle all the paperwork without interrupting her routine and Amber is seven months pregnant and has two little kids, I didn't want her to do everything." He adds to his story, letting go a little sigh as he finishes.

"I'm sorry to hear that. But why the hell did you feel the need to leave? Why lying to us and sending those stupid letters, you could have just talked to us. We would have helped you-"

"That's the point, I don't want help. This is my family, you had enough family crap for a lifetime and Jo-"

"She would have helped you. You know damn well that she would have gone with you in a heartbeat. She married you, so it's her family too." Mer adds.

"I couldn't- She went through so much crap last year and she was just doing fine again- I couldn't bring her here, hearing that my brother raped three women- I- I couldn't do that to her. She deserves to be happy-"

"She's not, Alex. She's everything but not happy and it's your fault. You know that Jo's probably the strongest woman we know. Yes she went through a lot of crap and yes she just overcome depression, but you also know that she loved you with everything she had. This letter broke her, Alex. She's not showing it, but she's broken. She's working nonstop, even though she's-" She takes a pause before she says too much, then continues. "Abandoning her was worse than just telling her the truth, trust me."

"Even though she's what? Mer what is it? Is she ok?" Alex immediately asks, knowing that Mer's little pause and change of topic was supposed to distracte him from what she almost said.

"It's not my place to tell you, Alex. You should probably call her." Mer tries to talk her out of it, but she knows her friend way too good. When Jo's the topic Alex wants to know everything.

"Mer, what? Tell me, damn it!"

"Alex-"

"Tell me!" He shouts, immediately sorry, but he's so frustrated right now. He has to know that Jo's fine, otherwise- he doesn't even wanna think about it.

"She's pregnant." Mer answers, regretting it the second it comes out of her mouth. It's not her place to tell him.

"What-"

"Before you say anything, I already regret telling you. It's none of my business and actually you don't deserve to know it. I'm sorry but I'm on Jo's side. When you left her, you left me too and I hate you for that. So you are not gonna call her now and scream at her for not telling you, you hear me? If she doesn't wanna tell you, she has every right for doing so, alright? You are not her husband anymore." Mer finishes, hearing the silence on the other side.

"I know." He agrees after a few seconds, before he continues. "Is it- is it mine?"

"The baby? I have no idea, Alex. I just found out an hour ago. An ultrasound picture fell out of her lab coat when she left my room, so I don't know. I heard some rumors- but nevermind." Again immediately regretting that she said too much.

"Rumors? What rumors?" He asks.

"You don't wanna know Alex-"

"Tell me!" He interrupts her again.

"She ahm- I heard rumors that she and Jackson-"

"What?" He stops her. His head is spinning and his heart immediately starts to hurt a little. Even though he knows that he has actually no right to feel like this.

"Alex, you need to calm down. She is not your wife anymore! You are the one that divorced her! I heard that they had a friend with benefits thing going but listen the baby on the ultrasound looks way to big for it to be Jackson's, ok? If you ask me it looks like five maybe six month-"

"Fuck. I left my pregnant wife-" Everything comes crushing down on Alex in that moment and he can't hold his tears back any longer. He really thought he did what was best for everyone.

"Alex are you crying?" Mer asks carefully after a few seconds listening to the silence on the phone.

"Yes I am, because I'm so fucking dumb- I abandoned the love of my life that is carrying my baby- during a freaking pandemic. She probably had the worst morning sicknesses and- god she always told me how scared she is to become a mom but that she feels safe with me by her side- and now I'm not. Fuck- I really didn't change much since our intern year, I'm still a freaking asshole."

"Alex no; you changed a lot. You became an amazing peds surgeon, you've grown so much during the years I've known you. You became an awesome person, my person and you were an amazing husband. But I have to agree, you are a little asshole. Now you hang up, you go outside take some deep breaths, throw a few things against a tree or whatever and then you man up and call Jo. She deserves the truth Alex especially when she's pregnant with your child." Meredith tries to convince him, not knowing what else to say.

"Thanks Mer." He answers quietly.

"Sure."

"I promise I'll visit you as soon as I can, ok? I'm sorry." Alex apologizes again, drying his tears with his sleeve.

"It's ok, asshole. The kids miss you." She laughs through the phone, trying to make him laugh too.

"I miss them too and I miss you. Thank you for calling Mer."

"Sure. Please promise me not to scream at Jo, ok? And please let her tell you that she's pregnant, she'll kill me if she hears that I told you."

"I promise." He answers. "Bye Mer."

"Bye."

After he did what Mer told him, Alex is now sitting on his sister's front porch, phone in his hand, fighting with himself, wondering if he should really call. Jo went through so much already because of him, she doesn't deserve any more pain. Maybe he should just leave her thinking that he's in Kansas. But on the other side, he could never live with the knowledge that she's having his child on her own. Sure he knows that she has a whole damn village at the hospital and they will support her, but they shouldn't. It's his child and he should be the one taking care of them, his baby and Jo.

So before he can think about it any further he's already dialing Jo's number. With his phone on his ear he stands up from the chair on Amber's front porch and starts walking circles in the front yard, while it's ringing.

"Hi this is Doctor Josephine Wilson, please leave a message."

Hearing her voice after almost five month for the first time again gives Alex chills, even though it's just her voicemail message it immediately calms him a little bit. The last thing he heard from her was her crying on his voicemail, begging him to call her. This message broke his heart into a million little peaces, but he wasn't able to answer her because he knew that he would have hopped on the next plane home in a heartbeat. But his family here needed him.

Now he's the one, getting send straight to her voicemail, which he totally understands.

"Hi. It's me, Alex. Jo, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I know sorry doesn't fix anything and I understand that you probably never wanna talk to me again. But please just listen. I'm not in Kansas, I'm not with Izzie nor any twins. I'm in Iowa. I'm with Amber and her kids. She's pregnant and her husband is stuck in Europe due to Covid. I originally got here because Aaron- he- he was not taking his meds and tried to hurt himself. He's in the hospital now. I couldn't let my mom or Amber handle this, I just- I'm sorry I just left like this. I never wanted to hurt you, I just didn't want you to get wrapped into my family crap again. You didn't deserve that after you just pulled yourself out of this dark hole. I wanted to protect you, but I guess I just hurt you more- I never wanted to leave you and I sure as hell never wanted you to not be my wife. I married you because you're the most incredible woman I've ever met. I guess I never told you, but you Josephine are the strongest and most amazing woman on this planet and I never deserved you or your pure, loving heart. I'm so incredibly sorry- for everything." He takes a deep breath, wiping away the tears that started streaming down his face again as soon as he started talking. "Please call me. I love you Jo and I will never stop. I'm sorry. Bye."

It's been two days now since Alex left the voicemail and he still didn't get an answer.

He called Mer again but she didn't know anything about Jo either, so he guesses he really fucked it up this time and he couldn't even be mad at her. It's his own fault-

"Uncle Alex, there's someone at the door for you."

Alex got ripped out of his thoughts by his nieces little voice. He quickly smiles at the blonde little girl and gets up from the couch.

He rounds the corner of the living room and freezes as soon as he sees the visitor standing beside his sister on the front porch.

Even though he can't see her whole face, because it's covered with a purple mask, he knows that she's smiling while she's talking to Amber. Her eyes are sparkling as she takes her few from Amber and locks eyes with him.

Slowly, not knowing if everything was just a dream or if this was really happening, his feet carry him towards the front door, past Amber, pulling Jo into a tight hug. He can fell her immediately relaxing in his embrace, wrapping her arms around his neck, burying her head deep in his shirt. He tries to pull her closer but the little bumb in between them won't let him.

"I'm sorry." He whispers, not making any move to let her go anytime soon.

"Shut up." She answers, which makes him laugh.

They stay like this for a few more minutes until one of Alex's hand finds his way from her hip to the bump in between them. Jo loses her grip around his neck a little without letting completely go, to look him in the eyes. She doesn't need to say anything, they both know exactly what the other one wants to say.

"I would really like to kiss you." Alex whisperes, afraid to scare her away by saying it to loud.

"Why aren't you." She smiles mischievously through her eyes, knowing exactly why he can't kiss her.

"You're wearing a mask." He answers, even though he knows she is playing with him.

"Well lucky you I'm vaccinated plus I got tested at the airport and brought this for you." She pulls a white bag out of her purse and hands it to Alex. "If it's negative you can take it off of me and kiss me." She smiles, as Alex grabs the Covid test and harshly unwraps it.

#jolex #fan4196 #fanfic #fanfiction #jo x alex #grey's fanfic #alex #alex karev #grey's #grey's anatomy #jo #jo wilson #jo karev

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doc-pickles · 3 years

Text

right where you left me

I think this is the fastest I’ve ever finished a two part series haha. I honestly thought I was done Saturday but decided to add some more to it and the whole thing ended up being almost 9K words so.... I hope you guys enjoyed this! I had a lot of requests for this fic and I really enjoyed writing it :) and if you need it here’s a link to part one

Sunday 10:38 AM

You two doing good?

doing fine, just a little tired

Need me to bring anything by? I’m off at 2

I think we’re okay, i’ll text if I think of anything

thank you :)

No problem. Talk soon.

Sunday 11:15 AM

I’m going to grab a late lunch. Do you want anything?

Sunday 11:52 AM

Heading into surgery, shouldn’t be too long.

Sunday 1:47 PM

About to head out.

Sunday 2:08 PM

Missed Call from Alex

Sunday 2:15 PM

Missed Call from Alex

Sunday 2:22 PM

You okay? I’m getting worried

Sunday 2:39 PM

On my way over.

Sunday 2:45 PM

Missed Call from Alex

Jo is exhausted if she's honest with herself. At six months pregnant she’d thought that things would get easier from here on out, but she’d been foolishly wrong. She’d been dealing with a nasty resurgence of her morning sickness the past three days and her once abounding second trimester energy had now dwindled down to practically nothing. After leaving work the day before she’d barely gotten out of bed, only leaving the warm blankets to go to the bathroom or grab a snack.

She’s laying in bed, finally settled down after another bout of morning sickness, when the door to the loft slides open loudly. She ignores it at first, knowing it’s probably Alex coming to check on her, but she bolts up from her position in bed when he starts practically screaming.

“Jesus Christ Jo! I thought you were dead, you can’t reply to a text or pick up your damn phone,” Alex is clearly frantic as he paces the loft, barely acknowledging Jo’s presence. “I’ve been worried sick about you.”

“I’m sick Alex, I’ve either been asleep or throwing up since I texted you,” Jo’s voice had an edge to it as she stared Alex down. “And I don’t need you coming in here and trying to guilt trip me or whatever this is.”

“I’m not trying to guilt trip you, I’m trying to make sure you and our kid aren’t dead!”

“Well now that you know we aren’t you can leave Alex. You probably wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for Meredith getting sick,” Jo could feel her anger boiling as she looked at Alex. She knew her words were a low blow, but her anger and her hormones won out as she continued to yell at him. “I am more than capable of taking care of myself and our son without you constantly keeping tabs on us. That’s not your job anymore, you’re not my husband! You’re just the guy who knocked me up and then left for three months after telling me for years that you would never leave. You left and you weren’t coming back and the only reason you did is because I’m pregnant. If I wasn’t then you wouldn’t be here acting like you care… Do you think I don’t realize that? I get it, I’m nothing to you anymore and you’re only here for the baby. Well your son is fine and I’m fine too so please just get out.”

There was a moment of silence as Jo and Alex stared at each other, her eyes alight with anger and frustration. She settled herself back into bed with her back facing the door, holding her breath until she heard the door to the loft slide shut again and Alex’s footsteps retreat downstairs. When she finally released the breath she had been holding, a shaking round of tears followed it.

She didn’t know if she believed the words she’d spat at Alex, at one point she did but now she wasn’t so sure. He’d shown her over and over that he genuinely cared for her outside of his parental responsibilities to their son, even if he had left her behind. In truth, no matter how many therapy sessions she went to or how much her and Alex talked things out there was still a gaping hole in her chest created by the man she loved. She’d work through it, she always did, but right now all she wanted was sleep.

She sleeps for three hours, the longest stretch in the past few days that she’s been able to manage without throwing up. When she finally wakes her stomach is growling at her which almost makes her roll her eyes because she hasn’t been able to keep anything down lately. Jo slowly rolls out of bed and heads to the kitchen to find something to eat, but instead stops at the sight of her dining table.

There’s a large bouquet of tulips, her favorite flowers, along with ginger ale, soup, and her favorite snacks. Next to that she spots the tiniest blue striped onesie she’s ever seen, the sight bringing tears to her eyes. As she scans the spread once more, she grabs the card on the flowers and reads the barely legible writing.

Jo,

I’m sorry for the past few months. I know I’ve put you through hell but I’m trying my hardest to make it up to you and I promise I won’t stop trying. I’m a better man because of you and I hope I can be that man for you and our son.

Alex

Wiping up her tears, Jo grabs her car keys and heads down to her car. She knows she probably looks a hot mess but she drives the few blocks to Alex’s apartment anyways, barely noticing the thick sheets of rain that soak her thin pajamas as she bolts from her car into the brick building.

When Alex opens the door, she knows she looks insane but she forces the words out before he can say anything, “I’m sorry for snapping at you, you didn’t deserve that. I said a lot of things I didn’t mean because I was angry and my emotions are all over the place. That doesn’t make it right, it’s just… I’ve had a hard time lately. With everything. And I lashed out at you and I shouldn’t have.”

Alex stared at Jo for a moment before stepping into the hallway and pulling her into his embrace, “I’m sorry too, for freaking out on you, that’s the last thing you need right now. I meant what I said, I do want to be better for you. For both of you.”

“And I’m sorry for telling you that we’re having a boy by yelling it across the room at you,” Jo let a quiet laugh out as she looked up at Alex, a blush forming on her cheeks. “Maybe we can just talk things out from now on? And try to contain our tempers. Oh god, I hope our kid doesn’t have a temper.”

Alex chuckled, pressing a light kiss to Jo’s hair as he ushered her inside his apartment, “He's probably going to but you can teach him how to throw stuffed animals at the wall.”

“Hey, how’s your day going,” Jo tried to act as casual as she could as she leaned against the wall next to Alex who was typing up something in a chart. “Just out of curiosity, you know for a patient, how do you tell the difference between Braxton Hicks and real contractions?”

Alex’s head whipped up, eyes moving from Jo’s bump to her face. She had kept a calm demeanor as she left her surgery early, but now standing next to him she felt nervous, “You’re having contractions? Are you in labor?”

“If I knew that I wouldn’t be asking you would I,” Jo huffed as she pressed her hand against her stomach. The movement didn’t seem to calm Alex as he stared her down, his own hand coming up to sit right above hers on her belly. “I don’t think I am, I’ve just been super uncomfortable since last night. I spent an hour just sitting on the couch because I was in so much pain I couldn’t move. Actually I was kinda convinced I might just give birth then and there, but my pain went away and I got a few hours of sleep.”

Alex pressed his hand against Jo’s back as he led her down the hallway, his eyes not leaving her as they walked, “I don’t like you being alone in there all the time. What if you had actually gone into labor?”

“Then I would’ve called you.”

“And what if you couldn’t reach your phone? Or you lost too much blood and passed out,” Alex stopped walking and braced his hands on Jo’s shoulders. “I’m just worried about you and the baby. You know I always am, especially with your due date being so close.”

Eyes narrowing, Jo reflected on the past few months as she stared Alex down. After their blowout fight, Alex and her had begun to slowly work on their relationship and building it back up. It wasn’t an easy task, there had been a lot of yelling and crying and talking through things, but she was happy with where they were as the weeks leading up to their son’s arrival dwindled away on the calendar. She didn’t know what the future held for them, but she was content to just have him by her side for now.

“Well I’m not moving out of the loft if that’s what you’re insinuating,” Jo crossed her arms across her chest. “I know you’re worried but I’ll be fine.”

Alex fixed her with a serious stare, one hand coming back down to her growing bump, “Well then I'll move in, I mean if that’s okay with you. I really don’t want you to be alone and I can help when he gets here. I’ll even sleep on the couch.”

A groan left Jo as she looked up at Alex. She appreciated his help, but she didn’t need to be under constant supervision, “Alex, I’m fine. I love that you’re worried, but I don’t need a babysitter. Now I am going to go home and take a long nap, I’ll see you later.”

Jo walked away from Alex, not letting him get another word in as she headed for the residents lounge to grab her things. She knew being due next month meant that things would only get harder from here on out, but she was determined to do as much as she could by herself.

“Jo? I brought you dinner.”

Jo’s head popped up from her position leaning against the back of the couch, her body protesting at the sudden movement. She held back the groan she wanted to release as she watched Alex throw a takeout bag onto the kitchen counter. She’d been trying to relieve the pain that had been building in her back all day, but it seemed to have heightened as soon as she got home.

“Hey, sorry for barging in but I figured you were hungry,” Alex eyed Jo for a moment, brows crinkling when she didn’t verbally answer him. “You okay? You look a little pale.”

Jo nodded, but immediately dropped her head to her hands and let out the loud, pained groan she’d tried so hard to hold back. Her hips and back were on fire, the baby’s positioning not helping matters at all. As she tried to hold back another frustrated moan, Alex came up behind her and settled his hands on her lower back, fingers working down into her skin to release some of the pressure building there. The feeling was the first relief she’d felt all day, prompting her to immediately burst into tears. For his part, Alex was unfazed by Jo’s outburst, his fingers continuing to rub her back as she let out loud sobs.

“Hey, look at me,” Alex’s voice rang out softly after a few minutes, prompting Jo to turn and meet his eyes as he held her close. She cursed her heart as it beat out of time, stuttering at the intimacy of her and Alex’s positioning. “You don’t have to do all of this on your own. I know you can, but I’m here and I want to help you. Will you let me help?”

Pressing her head against Alex’s chest, Jo nodded as she took a deep breath. She hated to admit it, but Alex was right, she did need a little help. She hadn’t slept properly in days, her back was on fire, and her Braxton Hicks were coming at an almost constant rate now. More than anything, Jo just needed someone to support her and Alex was the best person for that role.

“Good, now let’s get you in bed. You look like you haven’t slept in a week,” Alex chuckled as he pressed a kiss to her head. The small move sparked something in Jo, despite Alex having done it more than once since returning home. Her fingers curled into his shirt, eyes turning up to meet his with a dark glint behind them. “What? What’s that look for?”

Before he could say anything else, Jo moved one hand to tangle in his hair and bring his lips down to hers. The feeling was indescribable, something she’d craved since she had dropped him off at the airport so many months ago. As if sensing the same thing, Alex kissed her back hungrily, his fingers readily finding purchase against her hips. After a moment, he pulled back and met her eyes.

“You were just crying and now you’re kissing me,” Alex chuckled, brushing back a strand of hair from her face. “I think you do need to get some sleep.”

“Will you lay down with me, I haven’t been able to sleep for like three days,” Jo’s eyes were pleading with Alex as she crawled under the covers. “He calms down when you’re around, I might actually be able to sleep for more than an hour.”

Alex obliged, kicking his shoes off and crawling into the other side of the bed. As he wrapped one arm around Jo’s expanding stomach, she closed her eyes and let her mind believe that this was a normal day for them. That they’d come home from work and were settling in for the night, that they didn’t sleep in separate apartments, that they weren’t divorced and Alex had never left. For a moment Jo let herself believe everything was okay.

Those thoughts and Alex’s presence lulled Jo into the most peaceful sleep she’d gotten in weeks. Her mind drifted off, letting her aching body rest and giving her much needed relief.

“He’s gonna be in the bassinet for the first few months, I don’t see why you insist on setting up the crib now,” Jo groaned as she sat herself on the couch, propping her bare feet up on the coffee table. “Can you just shove your clothes in the dresser and come sit down? Your nagging has exhausted me.”

A chuckle leaves Alex as he settles himself across the couch from Jo, reaching for her feet and pulling them into his lap, “Sorry that all of my heavy lifting and asking you where I should put things has bothered you.”

A noncommittal groan left Jo as her eyes fluttered closed, one hand floating down to her bump as Alex rubbed her swollen feet. He’d been at the loft every night since their agreement last week, making sure that he was able to help Jo sleep and stopping their son from keeping her up all night. Jo was thankful for the reprieve, even more thankful when Alex hadn’t batted an eye at her request for help relieving some of her more… primal urges that had sparked since her raging hormones had taken over her body. She’d fight anyone that insinuated that her and Alex were together, because they definitely weren’t, but she had a hard time denying the fact that sex with him was just as great if not better than it had always been.

Even being so far along in her pregnancy, Alex seemed to know what her body craved even more than she did. The way that they still worked so well on a physical level was no shock to Jo, but Alex’s uncanny ability to make her come undone and feel completely satisfied still shocked her. The first time they’d had sex again Jo had come three times before he’d even taken his pants off.

“You want me to order dinner? We can get Chinese if you want,” Jo barely registered Alex’s voice as his fingers moved across her skin. She could tell her body was already reacting to the feeling of him so close to her, her mind desperately trying to fight off the growing heat between her legs. “Jooooo? You in there?”

Jo peeks her eyes open, meeting Alex’s gaze with a grin. She moves one hand to grab his shirt and pull him closer to her, a chuckle leaving him as he understands exactly what she’s asking for.

“You’re insatiable,” Alex’s tone is light as his lips trail down to Jo’s neck. “I wouldn’t be shocked if sex is what sends you into labor.”

“Your dirty talk needs some work,” Jo groans as one of Alex’s hands trails up her body to brush against her breast. “But you might have a point…”

When Jo rolls over to glance at the clock, she's beyond frustrated that it tells her it’s midnight. She’d fallen asleep not even two hours ago after tossing and turning for 45 minutes trying to get comfortable between intermittent Braxton Hicks contractions. Resigning herself to another night of insomnia, she rolls out of bed and heads for the bathroom.

“You know, you’re being a real pain in the ass,” Jo groans as she looks down to her belly, a kick hitting her bladder as she flips on the bathroom light. “Yeah, you’re definitely a Karev.”

Finishing up in the bathroom, Jo walks quietly back to bed and settles herself above the covers. She knew she’d have to pee again soon and didn’t want to bother climbing all the way into bed again only to climb right back out.

After her scare early on in her pregnancy, Jo was just grateful to be carrying her baby still. But with only a few days left until her due date, she was growing more and more frustrated as her body began to prepare for labor. She hated how she couldn’t go more than an hour or two without feeling like she was going to pee her pants, how her back was constantly in pain no matter how she laid herself across the bed, how her son was now so large that even taking a deep breath was a monumental task.

It didn’t help that she’d been on maternity leave for the past two weeks and had been home alone bored out of her mind most of the time. She’d cleaned the loft, organized both her and Alex’s dressers, washed and folded all of the baby clothes, and watched every season of Friends. Jo almost wanted to go into labor just to have something to do that wasn’t cleaning.

Just as she’d predicted her bladder began screaming at her once again, prompting Jo to pull herself off of the bed and head back towards the bathroom. To her shock however, a loud pop sounded as soon as she stood, her feet instantly soaked by the rush of liquid now pooling on the ground.

“Alex… Alex! Wake up,” Jo tossed her pillow at Alex’s sleeping form across the bed, watching as he slowly began to wake. She felt bad knowing he’d just come off a long shift the night before, but she needed him. “Alex!”

The lights in the bedroom flicked on as Jo let out a low groan and reached for the edge of the bed, a sharp pain running through her stomach as she clenched the blankets tightly. A warm hand settled on her back, calming Jo slightly as her mind began to race, “How long have you been up?”

“Twenty minutes, but my water just broke,” Jo took a deep breath as she blindly reached for Alex’s hand. “Sorry I woke you up.”

“Don’t be sorry, what else am I gonna do right now,” Alex pressed a kiss against the side of Jo’s head as his hand continued to rub soothing circles into her back. “Will you be okay if I go throw the bags in the car real quick?”

Jo nods at him, but as soon as his hands aren’t on her anymore she wants to call out and bring him back to her. She’d gotten used to being so close to Alex, his hands constantly near her as he rubbed her aching feet or back and moved his hand across her belly to feel the baby’s movements. She’d even made it a habit of curling up next to him when he crawled into bed after a long shift, his hands always moving to pull her closer as she buried her face into his chest. When he’d moved back into the loft to make things easier when the baby came she’d been hesitant, but Jo couldn’t help how comforting she found his presence.

“Cars packed and I called the hospital so they know we’re on our way,” Jo looked up, Alex’s voice startling her out of her thoughts. His hands fell to her lower back again as she leaned against his chest, the feeling relaxing Jo as another contraction rushed through her body. “Those are pretty close together, how long have you been having contractions?”

“On and off since you left for work yesterday morning,” a groan left Jo as she braced her hands on Alex’s shoulders, the pain radiating through her stomach growing stronger. “Nothing this bad though.”

“Well let’s get going then, I’d like to avoid you giving birth in my car,” a small chuckle left Jo as Alex led her out of the loft. The next time they’d walk through the doors they’d have a baby with them. “Hey I was wrong! Sex didn’t put you into labor!”

“Shut up Alex.”

The exhaustion that falls over Jo as she leans into Alex is only surpassed by her joy at the squirming bundle that’s being placed on her chest. A head of dark curls greets her as she presses the infant close to her, fingers coming up to brush the soft skin of her son's cheek.

“You’re here, you’re real,” Jo laughs wetly as she looks down at the baby in her arms, her son, tears instantly welling in her eyes. “Oh my god your head is huge.”

“Sorry about that, that’s my bad,” Alex’s voice rings out from behind her, prompting Jo to shift closer to him as he presses one hand on the baby’s back and another against her arm in a comforting gesture. “You did so good, you’re a freaking rockstar.”

As she sits with her newborn snuggled against her and Alex’s arms wrapped around her, Jo thinks that she could stay right there forever. The pain, the heartbreak, the worry, all of it fades as she relishes in the feeling of the two people she loves most by her side. She’d been through so much in her life, lows she never wanted to relive, highs she would remember forever. All of it seems to pass by her eyes in a flash as she zones into this moment, the one moment she’s sure she’ll never forget as long as she lives.

In a second, without warning, Jo realizes that nothing else mattered. What had happened before, the grudges she’d held, the words spoken and not between her and Alex over the past year didn’t matter. He was here, with her and with their son and she knew he wasn’t leaving. He didn’t have to say it, didn’t have to promise anything or beg for her to let him in. His arms holding her close and his fingers brushing at their son’s curls reminded her that things had changed so much already.

“I love you,” Jo whispers as she lays her head on Alex’s chest, her eyes still trained on the baby in her arms. “I love you so much Alex.”

There’s a pause, a stillness in the air as Alex freezes next to her. The words that they’d exchanged so freely before now held a heavier meaning, they meant more this time around. His fingers moving slowly up and down her arm stop for a moment, continuing again as he presses a kiss to her temple, “I love you too Jo.”

She doesn’t know how long they sit like that, both of them staring down in awe at the little boy they’d created together. Alex tells him about how he was certain that they’d conceived him in the backseat of his car, Jo chuckling at the ridiculous story as her eyes fought to stay open. She’d been in labor for almost five hours and had been pushing for another, the event taking its toll on her as she leaned against Alex and shut her eyes.

“You sleep, I'll take him and we’ll be here when you wake up,” Alex grabs the infant from her arms, Jo peeking her eyes open to marvel at the sight of their son nuzzled against him. “Tell mama to take a nap, she deserves it.”

Jo watches the two for a moment more before closing her eyes and letting the joy she felt wash over her, lulling her into a peaceful sleep.

Jo wakes to small cries and the sound of someone singing softly. The cries lessen as the singing gets a little louder, the rough melodic voice singing some rock song that was not appropriate lullaby music. Sitting up in bed, she lets her eyes adjust before making out the silhouette of Alex rocking their two week old son to sleep.

“Is he hungry? I can take him,” Alex’s head popped up in surprise at Jo’s voice, his face illuminated by the low light shining from the kitchen.

“No, he’s almost back down. I gave him a bottle already,” Alex rocked back and forth a few more times before smirking up at Jo. “You go back to sleep, you need it.”

Settling her head back into the pillows, Jo watched both boys for a few minutes until Alex settled the baby back into his bassinet. Satisfied that the infant was going to stay down, he crawled back into bed and pulled Jo into his arms, “I thought I told you to go back to sleep.”

“Mmm yeah but you and Max looked too cute,” one hand trailed up to Alex’s face as Jo snuggled against him. “Besides it gets cold in here without you.”

A chuckle left Alex as his hands wrapped around Jo, bringing her flush against his chest as his lips brushed a kiss against her hair, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Jo settled her head against Alex’s chest, letting the steady beat of his heart calm her own body.

Jo’s eyes close again, her mind drifting to think of Luna, of the concern she’d had that her son might end up alone and scared like she had been. She knew that the little girl was probably sleeping in her crib at home, her mom healthy and snoozing beside her, the thought comforting her slightly. As she thought of Alex and the way he cared so deeply about her and Max, Jo knew she’d never have to worry about either of them being alone again.

#jolex #alex karev #jo wilson #jo karev #greys anatomy #jo x alex #jolex fanfic #jolex fic #nina writes #greys anatomy fanfic #fix it fic

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jobrookekarev · 3 years

Text

I Remember it All Too Well

Chapter One of Six: Invisible String Tying You to Me

Words: 2200

Summary: Alex knew from the moment he signed the divorce papers that leaving Jo and Seattle was the worst mistake of his life. As Alex works his way back to Seattle, he sees Jo again four times before she allows him back into her life.

The four times Alex saw Jo after their divorce, and the one time they finally got back together with her, plus a soft epilogue.

Fandom: Grey's Anatomy

Relationship: Alex Karev/Jo Wilson.

Characters: Jo Wilson, Alex Karev, Helen Karev, Eli Stevens, Alexis Stevens.

Rating: General Audiences

Additional Tags: Regret, Longing, Pining, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Foster Kid, Adoption, the Pandemic.

Read at AO3

Read at FFN

AN: Will update weekly

……………………………………………………………………

Alex was in the kitchen getting dinner ready. It was spaghetti night which means twice the mess as usual nights as he dumped the first jar of spaghetti sauce into the huge pot on the stove.

“Here you go, Daddy,” Eli said, handing him the other jar of spaghetti sauce.

“Thanks, bud,” Alex smiled at Eli, his little co-chef tonight.

Eli ran off to get the noodles as Alex put the other jar of sauce in the pot and turned on the burner to simmer.

Izzie always went all out with the homemade sauce and everything, but Alex made a version of spaghetti sauce that he and Jo used to make. It was basically just, roasted ground beef, two different kinds of store-bought spaghetti sauce, and a dash of fresh garlic and hot pepper flakes. Izzie hated it, but the twins absolutely loved it and she wasn’t here to tell him what to do. So Daddy’s spaghetti sauce it was.

“Alex!” He heard his mother call out to him from the office down the hall. “There's something wrong with my video call!”

“Just a second mom,” Alex said as he put the can of sauce in the sink and wiped his hands.

“Eli hold off on the noodles and don’t do anything in the kitchen until I get back,” Alex said, taking the pack of noodles from him.

“Okay,” Eli said as he scurried off to join his sister on the carpet as she played with their tablet. It was a little pre-dinner technology time and they were completely engrossed in it and didn't even notice as Alex left the room.

He walked down the hall to the little office Helen had in the corner of the house. Ever since the pandemic started Alex had moved back to Iowa to keep an eye on his mother during the lockdown. The library had closed and Helen struggled to maintain her schedule. Having Alex there had helped as he set her up with her therapist two times a week and she was able to help the kids with their school work in place of her work at the library. It wasn’t perfect, but they made do.

Izzie wasn't with them as the two of them were fighting. Izzie was upset he wouldn't call her his girlfriend, despite their relationship and the fact that they lived and parented together. Alex tried to love her and he wanted to make it work, but he couldn't just jump all in. Izzie wanted to pick up where they left off. She wanted them to be together, so she could say she had the perfect life; a partner, and kids, and everything. However, Alex wasn't ready to fully love her like that again. Truth be told he was still in love with Jo. He needed time to let go of Jo and grieve the loss of his marriage to her.

The pandemic had put a strain on all of that and Izzie had opted to stay back in Kansas, although she called every day to talk to the kids. As Izzie continued to work through the pandemic, Alex was left alone to parent the twins when the schools closed. Before the shutdown, Alex hadn't been able to find a job and was just subbing for the Ped’s attendings at the hospital Izzie worked at. With the quarantine that had transitioned to the occasional Zoom call consult and now he was mostly just a stay-at-home dad to the twins.

“I had the email on the computer and I clicked the link, but then this little box popped up and asked for a password, but I've never used a password before?” Helen explained as she pointed to the computer set up on the desk for a video call with her doctor.

She sat back in the chair and twisted her fingers as she looked up at the clock. It was five minutes past five and he could tell she was getting upset that the call hadn't gone as planned throwing off her schedule. She was going to therapy twice a week and had an extra doctor’s video appointment every other week, on Friday evenings.

“Okay, let me see,” Alex said as he pulled up the zoom meeting on the computer. He double checked the internet settings and went back to the original email. Alex quickly read it over. It was the standard zoom email with time and place and the passcode at the bottom. Alex clicked the link and waited for it to start up.

The Zoom started up but prompted him for the password and Alex quickly input the code and the zoom meeting connection started up on the screen.

“Thank you, Alex, but you should go,” Helen urged as she put a hand on his chest and gently pushed him back.

Alex stepped away to give his mother her privacy, but then the video connected and a baby appeared on the screen. The baby couldn't have been more than six months old as the camera was angled to the floor so they could see the baby sitting up on a blanket surrounded by toys. The baby smiled as soon as the video started. They locked eyes with Helen and babbled excitedly before leaning towards her. The baby excitedly babbled, as they seemed to recognize Helen and she smiled as she looked at them.

“Hello, little one,” Helen said as she leaned forward and waved at the baby. “I’m so happy to see you, but where’s your Mommy?”

Alex stepped forward and smiled as he watched them interact. He wasn't surprised that the doctor put their computer on their coffee table and did Zoom meetings with their baby. They were in the middle of a pandemic and he had done the same with the twins when he consulted for a few Ped’s cases at the hospital in Kansas City. Then he recognized the couch behind the baby. It was the white couch that Jo had bought for him with his money that she won after the ping pong match. The room around the baby was the loft in Seattle.

“Hey, do you see Grandma?” Jo's sweet voice came through the line as she sat down on the floor next to the baby and picked them up before sitting them in her lap. “I was worried when you were late. I was just about to call you, but I couldn’t find my phone... Alex?”

Alex stood there dumbfounded as they locked eyes. Jo was just as shocked to see him as he was, but only for a moment before Jo grew angry and reached forward to end the call.

“No, Josephine, please wait, he's leaving,” Helen pleaded with her but it was too late as Jo closed the laptop and ended the call.

Helen turned around and glared at him. “I told you to go.”

“No you can't do that, you can't just tell me to leave when you've been video chatting with my ex-wife and her baby?” Alex said, he tried not to get too upset, but he couldn't help it.

Alex just stood there shocked as he thought about Jo and the baby in her lap, video chatting with his mother. This had to have been an ongoing thing as Helen had it scheduled out every other Friday for weeks. He remembered walking past the door one time and hearing baby giggles, he brushed it off as just weird feedback, but there was a baby.

It was Jo’s baby. He didn't even know how she’s had a baby. She couldn't have been pregnant when he left because the baby was around six months old and he'd only divorce her five months and twenty-one days ago. So unless she’d given birth right after he left Seattle the baby wasn’t theirs and he’d certainly know if Jo was nine months pregnant before he left. The tally in his head of how long it had been since he left her was a constant reminder of the life he'd left behind.

“Just because you cut Josephine out of your life doesn't mean that I have to,” Helen said, raising her voice as she twisted her fingers. “When you left she had no one, no family, I still remember the day she called me to say that you had divorced her. Instead of hearing it from you, I heard from my daughter-in-law that my son had two kids and an ex-wife in Kansas and that he was divorcing her to be with them.”

“So what, you just took her side in everything?” Alex said, getting defensive as he crossed his arms.

“I'm not on anybody's side,” Helen insisted, getting more upset. “I let you come stay with me and, I love you, Alex I do, and I love your twins, and I love being a Grandma to them, but I love having Josephine as my daughter-in-law, too. Before your divorce, Josephine and I called each other twice a month and after you left her I continued to call her, she never stopped taking my calls, unlike how you did. It's part of my routine and I'm so gracious that she still lets me be a part of her life. Her one condition was that I couldn't tell you that we were still in contact and I respected that.”

Alex sat down in the chair across from his mom as he processed the information. He didn't know anything about Jo’s life now. Meredith wouldn't tell him anything when they talk, despite how he asked occasionally.

“I'm sorry, you're right and you have every right to keep in contact with Jo,” Alex said as Helen nodded and relaxed back into her chair. “How is she? The baby, is it hers?”

“Sort of, he’s her foster baby and she’s trying to adopt him. Josephine picked him up from the fire station after his birth parents dropped him off there and she’s been fostering him ever since. His name is Asher, he just turned six months old last week,” Helen said as she smiled and pulled out her phone, she quickly pulled up a picture of them and handed her phone to Alex.

Jo was holding Asher and they were pressed up against each other cheek to cheek. Jo had such a wide smile across her face, one that he had seen many times when she was joyously happy and it made him smile too. They had been trying for a baby before he left and it made his heartache, despite how happy he was for her.

“He’s really cute,” Alex said handing the phone back to his mother, but the image remained burned into his mind.

“Yeah he's such a sweetheart too, always babbling on about something,” Helen said as she looks down at the picture.

“Why don't you text Jo and tell her that I'm gone. I won't interrupt your video chats again, maybe she'll call back,” Alex said as he got up and went to the door.

“Thank you, Alex,” Helen said standing up and reaching to put a hand on his cheek.

Alex just nodded and left. He went back down the hall and went back to the pot of sauce, but he couldn't get his mind off the image of Jo and Asher. He looked over at the twins. They were completely engrossed in the game they were playing. It was this water game where they had to draw a path to give water to an alligator so they could take a shower. Alexis was directing Eli's hand and trying to draw the path over him as they argued over the right path for the water.

“Alexis let your brother create the path for the water this time, you can do the next one,” Alex said to them as he turned the heat on the spaghetti sauce down as it had started bubbling over while he was gone. “But just five more minutes guys and then I need your help to set the table.”

“Okay,” They quickly replied in sync, but didn't look up from their game.

It was easy for Alex to step back into the role of father for his twins and focus on the life he had in front of him, but he couldn't get Jo off his mind. Alex started the water for the pasta set before he got out a stack of four plates and set them on the counter where the kids could reach them. Then he walked back down the hall. Alex pressed his ear up against the door as he heard Jo and Helen talking while Asher babbled in the background. He heard Jo laugh at something that Asher did and he took in a breath as a knot formed in his chest.

He had regretted his decision to divorce Jo from the second he sent out the papers, but he was too much of a coward to take it back now. Alex loved Alexis and Eli with every fiber of his being and he didn't regret a second of his life with them. He just wished he could go back and tell Jo about them. He wished he would have asked her to co-parent them with him. He wished he would have done all this with her, but he didn't and he couldn't take it back now. So he just stood there and he closed his eyes as he listened to her laugh.

#jo wilson #alex karev #jolex #grey's anatomy #helena karev #eli stevens #alexis stevens #grey's anatomy fanfic #otp: home and heart #my fanfiction #my writing #my work

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heartslogos · 3 years

Text

newfragile yellows [909]

As soon as they make eye contact Ellana splits off, tucking her broom under one arm as Largo zips off to check on Adora.

Adora is sitting on top of a worn brick wall, sharp eyes piercing the darkness as she watches them approach. Largo, the goof, immediately jumps up next to her and starts trying to goad her into playing.

Dorian leaves his party to walk in her direction, both of them heading towards a more secluded area off to the side of the road.

Ellana trusts Max to do their introductions and handle things on his side. Surely he must be able to, all those years of being social and going to parties and card games and afternoon teas and extended holidays abroad must have done something for him other than giving him a horrific view of himself.

As soon as Dorian is within arm’s reach Ellana runs her hand down his arm, spells sliding off of her fingers as she checked him for injury and for any harm done to his magical core. Dorian allows it, eyes and jaw tense as he quickly twists his wrist in a sharp flinging motion to cast a net of silence around them. Ellana can’t find any evidence of physical or magical harm.

She steps in close, both of them turning their backs fully to their parties, and she slides her arm down his, hand following the tense line of his arm until she finds his clenched fist. Slowly she coaxes his hand open, sliding their palms flat and intertwining their fingers together.

Ellana waits, holding Dorian’s hand as it slowly squeezes hers. She can feel the hot flicker of his magic at the points of his fingers, spread across his palm. With her free hand she reaches across him to draw his cloak and hers closed.

Finally Dorian breathes out, a flicker of irritated black-purple smoke and blue lightning.

“He’s a complete horse’s ass,” Dorian says, voice low and angry. “Every chance he gets he taunts me for being Tevene. And if it isn’t that, then it’s not the same as it is when it’s just your average southerner. He’s Qunari. There’s. There’s a divide between our nations that runs very deep. Some rational part of me knows he’s lashing out most likely because he’s seen the war front, he’s been on it for some time, and he’s gone up against a dozen or more Tevinter witches just like me. But what he doesn’t know is that there isn’t anyone in the whole damn world like me and every chance I have to prove it is spoiled rotten because the longer I’m around him the more I want to be exactly like those Tevinter witches and curse him until his bones rot.”

With every quick breath in and out Dorian’s words are colored with sparks of angry black magic.

Ellana squeezes his hand, waiting.

“He’s so good at getting under my skin,” Dorian continues bitterly, “I thought I was better than this. But somehow he just — he always knows exactly where to hit to make me want to hit back. It’s like he ants me to be terrible. And I find myself wanting to live up to that expectation just because I’m so very tired of having to be good to represent my whole country. It isn’t fair. I don’t want to prove him right.”

“The don’t. You owe him nothing,” Ellana says softly. “And the templar?”

“The templar isn’t touching either of us when we get into it with a ten foot pole axe and a benediction from Andraste herself. I don’t blame him, I can recognize that when we argue it can be rather incendiary. He seems rather nice. He served in Kirkwall, so he has every reason to be wary of witches and Qunari, but if there’s any real prejudice he hasn’t let it show.”

“Name?”

“Rylen.”

“I don’t remember that name from the Meredith list.”

“Neither do I, I sent a message to Evelyn to check. He’s clean — at least, in that particular sense.” Dorian closes his eyes, exhaling one long stream of black turning gray smoke. “I don’t know how I’m going to get anything done.”

“You won’t,” Ellana says, “And what you do get done won’t be your best work. We’ll switch. You’ll like our mercenary. And I’m sure you’ll like the templar I’ve been working with.”

Dorian elbows her, rolling his eyes and relaxing a little further. “One would be hard pressed not to enjoy the company of Maxwell Trevelyan.”

“I’m sure if you said that to anyone with land to their name they would argue otherwise.”

“They’re boors who wouldn’t know decency and a terrific charm if it punched them in the nose. I know I called you over here, but it feels like something of a cheat. Like I’m running away.”

“This isn’t a match you’re going to come out winning, Dorian. And even if it was a win-lose situation, I don’t think the cost of victory is something you’ll be happy with,” Ellana leans into him. “Let me handle this. If this mercenary has something against elves, too, then unfortunately for him I’m not as noble as you are. I’ll gladly slip something nasty into his bedding or make some sort of foul odor to follow him about like a besotted dog.”

Dorian laughs, “Oh, Ellana. I do feel bad. You were going to the Emerald Graves, right?”

“I’ll have other opportunity to go. Besides. The Storm Coast is nice, too. An ocean view and such.”

“Ever the optimist.” Dorian sighs, raising their hands to kiss the back of hers. “Do me a favor, would you?”

“Several and gladly.”

“Don’t tell your brother I threw you in with a Qunari from the war front,” Dorian says. “The man would never forgive me. And he is so dangerously handsome when he’s furious. I can hardly stand to look at him when he’s in a state of neutral repose as it is. It’ll do terrible things to my heart, and I’m sure my standing his eyes.”

“And if I told Mahanon about why you did it I’m sure he would be immeasurably glad you did it,” Ellana leans over and kisses Dorian’s cold cheek. “Don’t worry, Dorian. It’s going to be all right.”

#heartsfic #gather your party and venture forth

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bisexualfelicity · 4 years

Text

No Other Version of Me - Chapter Two

Amalia Queen was once said to be so important that the universe made sure she happened. Yes, it was her mom who said that but it still counts. Now, she's an adult and struggles to be worthy of such sentence. She doesn't want to be a vigilante and make so many sacrifices like the rest of her family, but it doesn't mean she doesn't want to save the world.

Sequel to "Five Lives"

Next Gen, not canon compliant.

Previous chapters on AO3

“I think you got the wrong place, the bunker is on the other side of town,” Amalia hates how bitter she sounds, but can’t help it.

Naila doesn’t seem affected by it though. Amalia expects her to look hurt over it, maybe try to say there was no need for that, but the other girl seems completely indifferent to Amalia’s tone, inspecting her room and settling on top of her bed.

“I need your help,” she repeats, as if Amalia hadn’t heard the first time. “Samyia is in danger.”

“What have I got to do with that?”

“I need help rescuing her,” she says.

“I’m not a part of the team. Have never been. Did you forget that?” Amalia asks, hurt giving place to confusion. “Besides, we already know that. Team Arrow has been talking to Sara, everything is already handled.”

Continue reading under the cut or on AO3

“I didn’t come to ask for the team’s help. I’ve come to ask for yours. I know our parents are working together and they have a plan. This is not about that.”

“What is it about then?”

“They are not accepting my help. They think it’s too dangerous, considering…” she doesn’t end her sentence and Amalia does not ask what she means, she’s more curious about how she fits in all of this. “But I know going there is the best chance to get Samyia out safely.”

“That sounds like a discussion you should be having with the rest of the team, Naila. If you don’t mind, it’s late, I’ve had a long day and would like to rest now.”

“Mali, please,” the nickname only makes Amalia less inclined to listen to her, but Naila doesn’t notice or doesn’t care, “Just listen to me. I’m not asking you to do anything crazy, I just need someone to watch my back while I go save Samyia. The others won’t risk it, but I know you’ll do what is right.”

Amalia stays quiet, trying to understand what was happening. She very much wants Naila to leave her room, so she can just think about all of that. Half of what she was saying doesn’t even make sense. And besides why come to her? Amalia is not a vigilante. She’s trained, of course, she needs to know how to defend herself and it had been needed over the years, but she’s not used to being in combat and would rather be safe at home.

“I’m sure if you explain your side they are going to understand.”

“Why don’t you ever listen to what I’m saying? They won’t. Don’t you think I tried? Do you think coming here was my first option?”

While Amalia herself thought it was not logical to ask for her help, it still hurts when Naila put it like that.

“Why don’t they want you going?” Amalia asks, trying to decide if it’s even worth losing her time like that.

“It’s a long story. Maybe… Maybe I can tell you later. Will you help me if I tell you?”

“Of course not. I’m pretty sure the best way I can help you is by getting out of the way,” Amalia says, crossing her arms and raising her eyebrows.

“Fine. I see you’re still mad at me. I thought you were a lot of things, Amalia, but I never thought you’d be that selfish to deny help to someone you once called your friend.”

“I called you a lot of things, but, guess what, when you end a conversation by disappearing for five years you lose any right to complain!”

“I didn’t come here to complain. And I definitely didn’t come here to have a repeat of that fight, okay? I’m here because I’m desperate! I’m here because my sister is gone and she’s going to do something very stupid and if I don’t go people are going to get hurt. I know you care, Amalia, you can’t have changed that much.”

Amalia stays quiet at that. Tears are burning in her eyes but she refuses to let them fall, she is not a teen anymore, she’s over this. It is true that she cares, she cares about Naila, she cares about whatever is happening with Samyia, she cares about anyone possibly getting hurt and she cares about whether she is being selfish or not.

She likes helping people. She built her entire life so she could help as many people as she could. Being called selfish and sounding like she didn’t really care about the outcome of all of that? That damages her core. That’s not who she wants to be. And Naila knows it very well, Amalia is not naïve enough to think Naila didn’t use these words on purpose, the girl is trying to manipulate her and knows how to do it well.

“Here’s what I can do,” she finally says and almost shivers as she sees the hope in Naila’s eyes. “I will go to you with the bunker, I’ll help you convince them to hear you…”

“No! That’s not what I said,” Naila interrupts her, the hope giving way to anger and impatience. “Sara is going to arrive at any minute. She can’t know I’m here.”

“Your mom can’t know you’re here? What the fuck did you get into?”

“Look, are you going to help me or not? I don’t have enough time for this.”

“Then go. I didn’t ask for any of that. You didn’t say anything good enough to convince me I should go with you. I don’t even know what I’m dealing with and if you’re hiding that from Sara, I’m not sure you’re even on the right side.”

“Fine. You don’t trust me anymore, I guess I deserve it. Just… Don’t tell anyone about this, okay?”

Before Amalia can even think about answering her, Naila gets up from the bed and heads to the window. Naila looks back at her and Amalia thinks of saying she could just leave through the door, but it sounds like the wrong thing to say – and she doesn’t really want to explain to her friends in the living room what is going on – so she says nothing. Naila doesn’t say anything else either, just stares at Amalia and goes through the window, disappearing into the night. There is no anger in her face, but there is something there and it takes Amalia too long to realize what it is.

Disappointment.

Amalia tries to forget this meeting ever happened. She puts her pajamas on, goes to the living room, joining her friends in watching TV and laughing for the rest of the night and, when it’s day again, she throws herself in work and pushes thoughts of Naila as far as she can. There might be a part of her that is a little over the edge for the next day, but if her coworkers ask what’s got her in a mood, she’ll definitely just smile and says she has no idea what they mean.

Maybe she activates notifications on many news websites and keeps checking to see if anything comes up, but if that’s the case it’s certainly because she’s a concerned citizen and why shouldn’t she care about what happens in the world? She likes being updated. There’s nothing wrong with that.

But all the lies can’t hide forever from her mind. Her fast heartbeat is a constant reminder that she’s anxious and she has reasons to be. Did Naila talk to the team? To her mom at least? Did she go alone? Have they saved Samyia? Is everyone okay? She can only assume nothing terrible has happened or else she would have heard about it by now… Right?

By Friday, her phone aches next to her. Emma is on a date and Ilana always goes to her parents’ for shabbat dinner, so she finds herself alone in her apartment after work with nothing to do but wonder. Sure, she has other friends, she has stuff she meant to do, there’s always more work waiting for her, but it’s been 48 hours and she hasn’t heard anything and she can’t stand waiting like this all weekend.

Amalia is debating which family member she should call when she gets a message from Mom asking about having lunch together the next day. She confirms it, telling herself it doesn’t mean anything. Nobody is in the hospital. Mom would have just said that otherwise.

She considers herself a practical person most of the time, but can barely recognize herself now. The practical thing would be to just call literally anyone in the family and be done with this, ask everything they know and satisfy her curiosity. Even following her instincts again and showing up on the bunker would be more practical than laying in bed for hours, thinking of the worst scenarios and then arguing in her mind about how unlikely it is that it would happen. But it’s too much; she can’t move.

The night goes on like this. Amalia has spent sleepless nights before, many during college, a few having fun, but never because she was too worried to relax. Just close your eyes and think of nothing, it isn’t that hard. Except her brain won’t shut up, no matter how she says that it’s too late now and everyone else is asleep, nothing is going to happen until the morning. But what is going to happen in the morning?

When did she become that person?

Amalia is about to have a full identity crisis by the time the sun comes up. She tries to sleep one last time, fails to do it, meditates with an app she just downloaded and eats breakfast. It’s the longest she manages to stall before heading to her parents’ house, ready to just face the truth, whatever it is.

She lets herself in without ringing the bell and finds that she can already breathe better just by being in her family’s home. The house is completely silent and Amalia assumes everyone is still asleep. Not thinking much about it, she goes to her old room, lays in her bed and closes her eyes. For a moment, she thinks she might actually sleep this time and wouldn’t that be ironic? But her insomnia doesn’t have much of a sense of humor and doesn’t give up just because she’s home.

Meredith, the cat, soon joins her in the bed, meowing at Amalia’s face, either asking for cuddles or complaining it’s been too long since she visited last week. Amalia really misses the cat and wishes she could steal Meredith and go home. Life would be much better if she had her cat with her. But Mom would be really angry if she did it and Libbi would definitely steal her back. Meredith didn’t need that kind of stress.

Amalia is telling all of this to the cat, hugging the cat against her will, when she hears a knock on the door.

“Mali? What are you doing here so early?” Dad asks as he comes into the room and sits next to her in the bed. Finding the bed too crowded, Meredith decides to leave.

“Lunch,” she says not answering it at all.

It shouldn’t surprise her that her dad is up and dressed like he had just came back from running. Dad had never been one to sleep a lot and is getting worse every year, of course she wouldn’t be able to arrive before he woke up. Dad just stares at her, waiting for her to complete.

“Couldn’t sleep, sorry,” she’s stalling to ask and kinda wished Mom was here, because she’d just try to guess what is happening instead of looking at her and respecting her time. “I need to know what happened.”

Dad seems surprised by it, like he had no idea she even suspected anything. He sighs and stays silent for a bit, but Amalia doesn’t pressure him, she knows he’s trying to find the right words and she’s not sure she wants to hear them. Her thoughts start spiraling and she only focus again once Dad touches her shoulder, steadying her.

“The League asked for our help on a mission,” he starts, Amalia just nods even though part of her wants to say she already knows that and he can just fast forward to what happened. “They had been dealing with a threat and Samyia was captured in action. Their enemies are based just outside Star City and we could help retrieve her so they could go back safely to Nanda Parbat…” Dad pauses and she knows the worst is to come. “We had everything ready to go, but then Sara found out Naila went alone without back up when she was supposed to stay behind. I’m sorry, Mali, but Naila was captured as well.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means she’s missing. We’re still going to try to get them back, but you have to know… Naila was what they were after. Samyia was being used as blackmail. There’s no way of knowing what they intend on doing to Naila now that they have her.”

She tries to breathe in and out and not freak out, she tells herself she was expecting it. Yes, Naila was taken. Of course she was taken. Because she had no back up and she had literally told Amalia that she needed someone to watch her back. They wanted Naila, this is why Sara or the Team wouldn’t let her help. They were scared this would happen.

She should have gone with her. Or, better yet, she should have told her family or Sara what Naila was doing.

“It’s going to be okay, honey, breathe with me,” Dad is saying besides her, his hands comforting in her back, breathing slowly and waiting until she did she same. “I know you care about her, Mali, but we’re going to bring her back safely. You don’t need to worry about that.”

“Don’t worry?! How am I going to do it when it’s all my fault?”

August 2036

When Amalia finds Naila standing in her living room, her first thought is that someone died and she’s here for another funeral. She can hear her parents’ voices echoing through the house, laughing with Sara, so she assures herself that nothing bad happened again. Naila looks uncomfortable, sitting alone on the sofa in an extremely poised way, but Amalia makes no movement to join her.

Last time they’ve talked to each other it was Quentin Lance’s funeral and it was not a good day. Amalia had heard about Naila since, Becky commented about her cousins and Naila had been in Star City a few times since, but never in her house. Amalia doesn’t know what her presence means and doesn’t like it.

She knows why Sara is here: because everything sucks right now. There have always been bad guys creeping around, always some danger, but it got worse. She doesn’t know who’s behind, she thinks there are superpowers involved but she’s not sure and she honestly doesn’t want to know. All she wants is to forget that this is her life.

But she can’t. Because Uncle Roy died and she had to look at her little cousin Elliot and know that it could have been her without a dad. And then Laurel got hurt last month and still hasn’t recovered. She knew it was only time before something happened to her parents and then it did. Her dad was thrown from a bridge and could barely leave the bed now.

She knows she’s lucky. Dad’s at home, when he could very well had ended up in the hospital or in a coffin. If it served for anything, they should all have just learned that vigilantism is not worth it.

But instead Sara showed up. Not just to see her sister and make sure this side of the family was okay, but to fill in for Dad in Team Arrow.

And she’s bringing her daughter? That is just weird.

Amalia is still standing in the door when Naila looks directly at her, not saying anything. Amalia tries to smile but Naila doesn’t bother to copy her, staring with curious eyes. Not knowing what to do, Amalia decides to join Naila at the sofa, sitting next to the girl, still silent.

“So.. You’re visiting Laurel?” Amalia asks, trying to start a conversation.

“We’ve visited her yesterday, we’re visiting your parents now,” Naila says, frowning and Amalia can’t help but laugh at that answer. “Sara wanted me to meet you. I’m Naila,” she extends her hand and Amalia finds herself shaking it even though it feels weird to shake hands with someone her age.

“I know that. I’m Amalia. We’ve met already.”

“I remember, but we weren’t formally introduced then. I’d like to get acquainted with you since I will be attending school where you go comes September.”

“Are you… staying in Starling?”

“Yes, Nyssa and Samyia are going to continue in Nanda Parbat for most of the time, but it was decided that I should accompany Sara while she’s here. Sara thought I would enjoy experimenting formal education, so I am here.”

“Did you not go to school there?”

“I had lessons with my moms and other members, but there isn’t anyone else my age in the League, so no school.”

Amalia frowns at that. No wonder the girl sounds so weird if she doesn’t interact with anyone their age. Amalia could only imagine how shocking would be to suddenly start high school with hundreds of teenagers, well, being teenagers. Amalia had some difficulty belonging there and she had studied with those people her entire life.

“I can help you around in school,” Amalia offers, “I can introduce you to my friends and we can hang out, if you want that is.”

“That would be lovely,” Naila smiles for the first time and her whole face transforms, she seems so happy at that moment that Amalia for a moment thinks she has offered more than just helping in school.

Naila is looking at her expectantly, waiting for Amalia to continue the conversation. Later, Amalia will be able to pinpoint this as the exact moment she decided to befriend Naila. They’d have to be friendly with each other anyway, Naila didn’t know anyone else in the school and it’d be the right thing to do; but it’d be easier if it was something genuine and not a friendship out of parental obligation. It’s the bright in her brown eyes and the way she blushes after smiling that sticks for Amalia, the red hardly apparent in her sand skin. Naila looks shy in a way that Amalia has never pegged Sara and Nyssa’s daughter for.

“Tell me about Nanda Parbat, what do you usually do there?”

While Naila talk about her life, Amalia can’t help but find it all fascinating and soon they are able to maintain a conversation without much awkwardness. Naila takes a while to be comfortable, but by the time their parents arrive in the room, it’s clear that Felicity won’t have to ask Amalia to hang out with Naila, they have already made their own plans.

Amalia thinks of her two best friends, trying to think of how to introduce Naila and wondering if they have a good backstory planned. Amalia is not ready to explain to her friends what the League of Assassins is and how she’s associated with then. Luckily for them, Amalia is a great liar and has been doing that since she was young enough to talk.

Somehow, even though she sounded like she was from a different world, Naila would fit right in her life.

#olicity fic #olicity fanfiction #nyssara #olicity #olicitysquee #arrow fic #arrow

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enby-hawke · 4 years

Link

Summary:

For Lucky Hawke, becoming Champion did not mean consequences from hiding his apostacy from the Chantry. 3 years later, he’s gained his freedom, with stringent conditions.

Hawke is pissed off and decides to test his luck and gets drunk and parties at in his usual Hangout, The Hanged Man. Templars are alerted and Cullen and he get into an argument about him leaving. Cullen is being nice. Hawke is being an asshole.

Ship: Hawke/Merrill, mentions of past Fenhawke and Hawkbela.

Words: 7,696

Tags:

drinking tw, anti-templar sentiments, anti-chanty sentiments, anti-cullen sentiments from Hawke, huge spoiler warning for plot, Modern Thedas, lucky getting in trouble with the chantry again

“Sluuuuuuuurrrrrrrp, slrpp, slrrrrrp, slrrrp,” Hawke and Cullen maintained a death stare, neither one blinking. A crowd was gathering at Hawke’s usual drinking table at the Hanged Man, some recording on their phone as Knight-Captain’s Cullen’s face got redder and redder. An obnoxious, “slrrrp” erupted from Hawke’s Coffee Star extra-large extra-foam double whip mocha caramel smores iced coffee anytime the templar tried to speak and it fell silent as soon as the man stopped speaking. And began when he attempted to speak once more.

“Curfew is-”

“Slrrrrrrrrrrp!” And then Hawke would sigh when he was done looking like he was finished. He had his arm around Merrill who was red as a beet and would grow redder and redder each time he slurped, her elven ears as low as they could go. Her meadow green eyes were giant saucers under all the stares and the cameras that always seemed to follow Hawke.

“Vhenan,” Merrill whispered angrily, shaking him.

“Sorry, it’s just a really good coffee,” He smiled at her as if he was not antagonizing the second-highest ranking templar in all of Kirkwall. He was a little drunk and very pissed off, especially since it was Cullen who decided to answer this call. Fenris and Varric, also drunk, were snickering while Sebastian stared into his water not saying anything.

Cullen grunted. “Really-”

“Slrrrrrrrrrrp,” Hawke made a face of pure bliss. “Mmmm they must have improved upon the formula while I’ve been gone. I can’t stop.”

“Lucky, this isn’t funny,” she shook him a second time. “They could take you back to the Circle! Stop acting like such a child.” He looked over and saw her eyes pricking in worried tears. For a second Hawke thought maybe he did take it too far. Shoulders slumped he looked like a whipped puppy and looked away. “I guess I can take the party back to my place. It’s cleaner. I’ve got better drinks and the floors aren’t sticky.”

Varric whistled. “Mark the day Broody. On the 3rd of Bloomingtide, Daisy made Hawke regret being a total dick.”

Hawke grinned moving to punch Varric but the dwarf pushed aside his fist.

“Actually if you have liquor in your home that’s a violation of your-”

But then Hawke was back to slurping, angrily glaring, trying to drown out Cullen’s irritating voice.

Cullen was shouting now, and pushing his way forward so his nose was almost touching Hawke’s, his tight blond curls falling in his knitted eyebrows, “and if you’re in violation of your probation and I’m going to need to escort you to your mansion to confiscate any illegal contraband and-”

Hawke leaned forward, making Cullen take a step back, still slurping. The flash of cameras and the sound of Cullen’s voice growing louder and louder until-

“ENOUGH!”

Aveline, who told Hawke she was at an important meeting that night, pushed herself between Hawke and the Knight-Captain and she shook Hawke and slapped him.

He turned back to the table where everyone was avoiding his gaze except for Sebastian. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t know who else to call.”

“Fuck you, Choir Boy!” Hawke almost pounced but Aveline stopped him and pushed him away.

“Don’t get angry cause you don’t have sense,” Aveline growled. “What is wrong with you?”

Hawke rubbed his cheek and considered slurping in response, but he knew that was a sure-fire way to get him knocked on his ass. It’s happened before. “I just want to have a drink with my friends like old times.” That was it.

“Wake up, idiot! You’re on probation. You’re lucky, Lucky, that Orsino released you at all. You know Meredith’s looking for a reason to throw you back in but do you listen to reason? Can you see past that arrogant ass you call your head? You have people that care about you and you seem intent on sabotaging anything good in your life. What do you have to lose for you to see that?”

He didn’t know what to say so he looked at the floor as an awkward silence filled the tavern. “I’m sorry, Aveline.”

“Thank you, Guard Captain, for talking some sense into the Champion,” Cullen said running his gauntlet through his hair. Hawke wished he could slurp his coffee.

“That’s not all I’m doing. Turn around,” Aveline ordered.

“What?” Hawke didn’t understand at first but saw she was bringing out her cuffs.

Hawke was furious. “You’re arresting me?”

“Yes, I am Champion. You are 4 hours past curfew. Turn around!” Her voice spoke of finality.

Hawke’s cheeks were burning and at first, he just glared at her. He considered taking Merrill’s hand and locking himself and her in his mansion, never to come out again. But he knew no way would end well.

“Do not make me force you into these handcuffs. I am done coddling you.”

“But you’ll protect him right, Aveline?” Merrill sniffed. Hawke looked back and immediately regretted it. Varric and Sebastian were on either side of Merrill comforting her as fat tears rolled down her cheeks, her soiled handkerchief clutched in her hands.

“Always,” Aveline said softly, her anger fading. “This is to protect him.”

Hawke defeated, set down his coffee and offered his wrists to her. Now he wished he could take the whole thing back but it was he knew it was too late for that.

She accepted this, forcefully and efficiently cuffing him. “If you cared about Merrill, you’d stop doing this to her.”

The cameras and reporters followed the Guard-Captain’s patrol car from the Hanged Man to the Kirkwall Barracks. Aveline opened the door for Hawke from the back of her cruiser, and as soon as he stepped out, the two of them were swarmed.

“Champion, is the Guard Captain taking you back to the Circle?”

“Guard Captain Aveline are you arresting the Champion because you agree with the Knight Commander?”

“Hawke do you plan do lead protests on the Knight-Commander’s new curfew policy.”

Both Aveline and Hawke knew better than to say anything more than “no comment” until they were completely out of the mess. Hawke was getting used to being blinded by flashing lights every time he stepped out in public now, though that did nothing to alleviate his anxiety. Every time a camera flash Hawke would flinch, wondering if an attack was coming. He was sweating through his shirt, grateful that Aveline was there to guide him through the crowd.

A row of Aveline’s guards formed a wall around the Barracks forming a barricade for the reporters. They parted for Aveline and Hawke and closed ranks as soon as they were through. “What a mess you made,” Aveline growled, squeezing Hawke’s arm.

He was escorted to the barracks in silence but he could tell she was fuming. She uncuffed him in a small cold cell with a metal frame for a bed. She didn’t leave though. He could tell that she wanted to say something. A proper apology?

So he started. “So…I fucked up.”

“You think?” Aveline crossed her arms. “But do you actually feel bad or do you feel bad it didn’t go your way?”

“I am trying to say I’m sorry.”

“And I need you to stop apologizing and think things through for once.”

“You’re just full of wonderful insights tonight,” Hawke rolled his eyes.

“And you never know when to quit,” but there wasn’t any anger in her voice. She did sound worried which made him more pissed off for some reason. “I think you need help, Hawke. Professional help. If Leandra saw what I did tonight, I think she’d be crying alongside Merrill.”

Fury hit him and he almost swung. “Enough! You made your point!” The mention of his Mother erupted a pain he wasn’t ready to face and he knew if he kept having this conversation it would turn into more than an argument.

“Then are you ready to act like an adult, now?” she narrowed her eyes.

Hawke threw himself on the bed facing away from her so he wouldn’t have to look at her anymore.

He could hear her sigh, and after a few moments of silence, she said, “I shouldn’t have to remind you what’s at stake.” She closed his cell door and the electronic lock beeped before sliding into place.

He spent the night in a cold cell with a sheet and 4 bare concrete walls a steel door and a toilet. Aveline had either completely isolated his cell or there wasn’t anyone else committing petty crimes in Kirkwall tonight. Completely isolated, he tried his best to get as comfy as he could and fell asleep.

In the Fade, he traveled to Merrill’s apartment, thinking that’s where she would stay tonight and he was right. She was nestled in an uneasy dream. He was back in the Circle, she was crying herself into a Hawke’s pillow, Boof’s head whining alongside her in her lap. He’d done it again. He’d made her cry.

He stepped into the dream and woke her up. The reality of the dream melted away until they were just in her room again, the eluvian reflecting in the corner of Merrill’s night lights. The tears continued to run her down the vallaslin on her cheeks. “I knew you’d come.”

“Always,” he said and reached for her.

She didn’t reach back and instead put her face in her hands and sobbed. “Why did you do that?”

That was a question he didn’t have an answer for. Not a good one anyway. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to leave you alone, again. I’m an idiot.”

“No,” she said angrily and raised her head, glaring. “You’re the smartest man I know and that’s why you should know better. They’re trying to get you now. Don’t you see that? They’re making it personal now!”

She collapsed back into her knees curled into herself as she short ragged sobs escaped from her throat. Hawke sat beside her, not knowing if she wanted to be touched but she leaned into his chest. That gave Hawke the permission he needed to wrap himself around her.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Hawke admitted. She was trembling, tears hit his chest and for a moment he just held her trying to make sense of what was now his life. Before he knew it, he felt a tear fall off his chin and when he wiped his eyes they came back wet. Crap. Was he was crying now, too?

He cleared his throat, hoping Merrill had not noticed, and squeezed out the rest of his tears before they could swallow him, but the same dark thoughts kept plaguing his mind. He always was a loose cannon. His mouth always seemed to run away from him no matter how he tried to wrestle it. He was always impulsive, always blowing up, always paying for consequences he could have avoided if he just. Shut. Up. He didn’t know how long he spent in silence, replaying the night in his head when suddenly Merrill had pushed her way into his face, staring intensely.

“Talk to me,” Merrill pleaded. She cupped his cheeks and pulled his face close her eyes like a lush, cool meadow, The straight bridge of her nose pressed against his as she bore into him. “We can this figure this out if you talk to me.”

Hawke froze, averting her gaze. He couldn’t. The more she knew, the more she was in danger. She was already Dalish. He didn’t know if he could protect her from the Chantry and he wasn’t sure becoming Dalish again would exactly solve either of their problems if they wanted to stay together. That’s all he wanted. Aveline’s always made her feelings clear. Isabela and he hadn’t talked since she told him she was leaving Kirkwall. Things between him and Fenris were awkward and doomed. Anders and Bethany saw him as a monster. He’d already crossed lines between them ages ago. Even Varric seemed uneasy being connected with Hawke at times even though he’d never say that. Just Merrill. She understood without question why he made the choices he made. Their friendship was awkward but so precious to him. He always saw his friends as family, but Merrill was the only one who never questioned it. He liked the way she leaned on him and he didn’t realize all the ways she let him lean too. And he loved her, adored her, worshiped her. People wrote her off as ditzy but Hawke knew better. She was easily the smartest woman he’d ever met. His research to restore Bethany whole would not have gone so far if not for her help. And she had the kindest soul in the world. He wanted to protect her kind heart.

Why did it take him so long to realize she was the one?

When he finally was able to return her gaze, he knew exactly what he wanted and he grabbed her hands, folding them into his. “Marry me, Merrill,” he said breathlessly.

She pulled away from him, confused, and stopped crying. But when she registered what he had just said her face twisted in anger.

“No!” she cried out. “Wait that’s not my answer. Vhenan, what is wrong with you? This is not the most romantic moment.”

“I’m sorry I’m not good at those. When should I ask?”

“Don’t ask me? It’s supposed to be a surprise!” she pushed him but it was more playful than angry. He was happy he could still make her smile.

“I just need a time frame. Tomorrow? Next week? I just feel it’s kind of urgent cause I don’t know if I’m going back-”

“I’m not listening. I’m not listening and I don’t want to talk about that,” Merrill shut her eyes and Hawke shut his mouth quickly. Finally, when there was silence Merrill shook her head. “People call me dumb but that was the dumbest thing I ever saw. Why? Why did you do that?”

A momentary lapse in judgment? Could he claim madness? It seemed like only Anders knew the loss of control he felt when he was around templars especially when they tried to cow him into line. “I just wanted to stay.”

“You know the rules.”

Hawke gulped down. He had heard that maybe fifty times that night, but he could never bring himself to raise any lip to Merrill. She had a way of making him swallow his pride like he was a kid eating his broccoli. “You’re right.”

She blinked, surprised.

“If there’s anything clear to me tonight it’s that I’m an idiot so if you have any suggestions on how to make things right, I’ll listen.”

“To me…” she said uncertainly, pointing to herself.

“I’ll always listen to you,” he leaned over and kissed her forehead making her blush in the way that always made his heart flutter.

“Well…”she started to think, placing her finger on her chin and then turned to him, looking uncertain. “I think you should make a formal apology to Cullen.”

Oof. But Hawke nodded. “I’ll do it.”

“Really?” she said, leaning back surprised. “Then will you clear all the alcohol from your mansion? I’m scared they’ll use it against your case.”

Double oof. But Hawke nodded.

“Then we should listen to the curfew- at least until your probation is over.”

“Well after tonight they’ll probably extend it but, yeah. Yeah, that’s not a problem. Anything you say.”

Merrill smiled mischievously, putting her forehead on his. “Am I the only one that can keep Lucky Hawke in check-Oh, I don’t know if I can handle the responsibility.”

“I’ll try not to be too big a burden,” he teased and leaned into her lips, pressing against her. He wrapped his arms around her to cradle her, but waited, not sure how she would respond.

“Oh, come here,” she said in an annoyed tone and threw her arms around him, pulling him down on top of her.

Lovemaking in the Fade was always an ordeal. There was the threat of demons and curious spirits and they were constantly interrupted, but Hawke had to admit sometimes that made things hotter. After they attracted and defeated a desire demon they decided it was better to just talk. Merrill spent hours just updating him on what happened at work at the Coffee Star, how Orana and Bethany and Bodahn and Sandal were taking care of the mansion, how she was exploring ways to unlock the eluvian and just little stories about their friends that he was missing. She even mentioned Isabela, said she got a text, though the conversation they had was superficial.

The memories of Merrill’s soul merging with his and the memory of her pleasured moans soothed away all the anger he had felt the night before and when he opened his eyes, everything seemed brighter and more colorful. The frame of the metal bed was hard and he was sure he tweaked his back, but he was in a remarkably chipper mood. Merrill didn’t say yes to his proposal, but he knew she wanted to. Now was to just think of something romantic. Surely that wasn’t impossible. He was wondering what the Dalish customs were for courting when Aveline opened his cell. She could tell something was different.

“Good morning Guard Captain. You’re looking rather dashing in that outfit.” He jumped up, brushing himself off, his usual cock-sure grin spread across his face.

“It’s my uniform,” Aveline said warily, waiting for the butt of the joke.

“Well, it always looks fetching on you. So what news? Am I a wretched Circle prisoner again?”

“I don’t know,” she said crossing her arms. “You’re to go home and get dressed and prepare for court. Meredith has called an emergency hearing on your case.”

“She would,” Hawke nodded. This wasn’t good but he could handle that. It would just mean he’d have to think of something more immediate.

“Are you…ok?” she raised a concerned eyebrow.

“So how did Donnic propose again?” He strained to remember. There was something about a picnic and wine on the beach, and how the ring box fell out of his pocket and opened, ruining the surprise, but all the other details were escaping him.

“Is this really the time?” From Aveline’s expression, Hawke could tell she thought he was messing with her.

“Well if I learned anything from my time in the Circle is that it’s precious and shouldn’t be wasted. Every moment is precious, Aveline.” He breathed in the stale air, chemicals and stale blood and some bleach. He closed his eyes happily just grateful to be alive.

“You’re acting weird, Hawke. Should I be worried?”

“No,” he put his hand on her shoulder, grinning. “Just thank you for slapping some sense into me. You’re a true friend.”

Aveline looked utterly confused and she pinched the bridge of her nose. “Do I need to drug test you before we go?”

Hawke was feeling high, though to be fair, he had gone straight into denial, blissfully pushing the troubles of last night far from his mind. He was still free at this moment and he would stay free no matter what it took. He’d kiss Orsino’s ass, Meredith’s ass, even the Divine’s ass if it meant he could just spend the rest of his life with Merrill and if that didn’t work they’d flee. The only thing that mattered to him was keeping Merrill safe and it had felt like his world had just shifted. It was like the sun touching a clearing after a long rain, he could finally see his way forward.

He put his other hand on her shoulder, face completely serious and stared straight into her confused dark green eyes. “You are a beautiful, intelligent, remarkably fierce, and principled warrior and I’m grateful every day to have met you.” Then he pulled her close, hugging her. “Whatever happens, Aveline, I’m here for you.”

Aveline sniffed in sharply, more confused than ever, but awkwardly returned the hug. When Hawke pulled away he was beaming and she knitted her eyebrows together, worried. Finally, she sighed and led him out of his cell. “Let’s go see what damage you’ve done.”

Orana had already another pressed suit prepared when Hawke walked through the manor. Like always, she anticipated his needs before he even had to tell her. He promptly stuffed himself into and when he asked her to start gathering up all the alcohol in the house she wasn’t even phased. “Messere Hawke?” she confirmed with a nod, her blond hair fastened in the usual neat bun. After all these years she still refused to address him as just Hawke. Hell, he’d even take Lucky. She was practically family now, though perhaps he wasn’t doing enough to make her feel the same. “Should I prepare your Mother’s lumpia for the party?”

He considered it, one more wild night before he was dry for good- or until the Chantry was done crawling up his ass. “Actually, I was planning on giving it all to Varric, well for a fair price, but if you could just have Bodahn and Sandal go ahead and get that packed up before court is over, I’d appreciate it.” Hawke knew if it was still here when he got back he’d get thirsty. It was better he kept a clear head, anyways.

It was Orana’s turn to be confused and she widened her light green eyes but nodded. “I’ll inform Messere Feddic.”

He straightened his tie in the mirror, foregoing his usual cartoon prints for a more serious diagonal black and white stripes. He even had time for a haircut so he shaved up off most of it, but left a curly pile on top of his head, though he kept the streaks of pink.

He had gotten out of the habit of dismissing her, and she just stood there waiting while Hawke continued to pick over his appearance, nervously. Finally, when she realized he wasn’t going to she turned to leave. Suddenly he turned around and said, “Orana?”

“Yes?” she asked turning back and smiled sweetly.

“Are you…happy? I mean…is there anything you need to be happier?”

She smiled even sweeter. “I owe you everything, Messere. I wouldn’t dare ask for more.” He didn’t know what he expected.

Hawke hated the way she flinched around him, and he was careful with his temper. When he was upset, she was terrified. She never disagreed, never showing any sign of pain or discomfort and it made him feel like crawling out of his skin. Anytime he asked her opinion on anything she wouldn’t give it until he gave his, always agreeing with him. She was still afraid of him, still waiting for him to turn on her. He tried hard not to leave messes, to leave things out, but he was so very forgetful that by the time he remembered about them she was almost always already done tidying. The only room that she left untouched was the basement and his office which was the only place he left disasters.

He’d hired tutors to help her learn to read after learning from Fenris that slaves weren’t allowed to, and she often spent her hefty paycheck on books and movies. Her favorite were romantic comedies and sometimes Hawke would join her and Bodahn and Sandal. Since she never left the mansion, he got her into VR and videogames and she spent most of her free time exploring romantic surrealism worlds, or just mundane character simulations or shooting zombies, which she was not bad at. He often came home to find her on his flat-screen or plugged into the internet, sometimes cussing in Tevene. When she caught sight of him, though, she would always promptly turn it off, no matter how much he insisted she could keep playing. Eventually, she got comfortable enough to be Hawke’s second player but she was always apologizing whenever she perceived she made some mistake no matter how small. She agreed to just about anything he asked of her even when he insisted she could say no, and eventually he stopped asking her to do things. These days let her run the house as she saw fit and stayed out of her way.

Hawke sighed. “Well, if you need anything just let me know.”

“You are too kind, Messere,” Orana said.

He wasn’t, but he had stopped trying to convince her otherwise. That conversation only upset her. He turned back to the mirror, wondering if he had cleaned up enough, and when he saw his reflection staring back, he just wasn’t sure.

“I am sorry,” Orana said suddenly.

He turned around again to see her adjusting her sleeve, a nervous habit of hers. “You have nothing to be sorry about,” Hawke replied.

“What they are saying on the news…I had hoped…” she started and stopped and looked him in the eye. “You don’t deserve this.”

He didn’t know what to say, but she had too many of her own problems to be fussing over him. He gave a cocky grin and said, “Don’t listen to what that headline says. They’re just trying to sell a good story.”

“But-” she realized she was starting to argue and she quickly clamped her mouth shut. Progress.

“Hey up for a game of Wicked Grace, later? I’m thinking of inviting Merrill and the gang over to celebrate.”

“You haven’t even found out what the Judge is going to say,” she said quietly.

“I told you,” he said, still grinning, and he took one more look at himself in the mirror. His demeanor at least looked, confidant. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

Hawke looked at the crates and crates of his super ultra super expensive alcohol collection piled up in the back of the truck and felt like he was going to throw up. But he wasn’t drunk. Maker, he wished he was. And he was especially craving the Ferelden Dragon Piss. Varric told him he just liked it because of its name, but Hawke swore the burn spoke to him, like a dragon fire in his throat. He usually took to burping out flames after taking a shot and he was going to miss that.

Varric whistled, “You have great taste, Hawke.”

“I’m glad it’s going to a good cause,” Hawke laughed, but inside he felt like dying. Why was this harder than he thought?

Hawke climbed up the truck and slid down the door, the metal shuddering as it shut. “This is it…”Hawke pretended to tear up and dramatically wiped his eyes, though if he wasn’t careful real tears would spring. “Just 365 days left until we meet again.”

“I will write a proper eulogy for this moment,” Varric said taking out a handkerchief making a show of blowing his nose. They then laughed, shoving each other.

“You’re so full of shit, Varric,” Hawke laughed. They gave the ok for the Bodahn to pull out of drive away, Sandal was halfway out the passenger seat window as he waved goodbye. As it turned the corner 3 cruisers with flashing lights and a templar insignia pulled up into Hawke’s driveway and formed a barricade around Hawke’s red Volvoroto. In the front cruiser stepped out Cullen with a templar Hawke recognized as Miranda something or other, a new recruit from Ferelden. She had tried to talk to him about being from Ferelden but Hawke shut her down, hard. Now she hated him, like most templars in the Circle. He looked across the other templars, none who he had bothered to learn the names of but instead he kept track of by features: “Bug-Eyes,” “No lips,” “Creepy vibes,” “Baldy #2 and 4,“ and ’‘Braids” but she wasn’t wearing braids today. Nobody looked happy to see him. He just had that charm.

“What are you all doing here?” Hawke crossed his arms at the approaching templars. Varric shifted, his hands in his pockets staying quiet. Some of the templars murmured a hello to the dwarf, and Varric returned the greeting as usual, but the air was still thick with tension.

Cullen wordlessly showed Hawke a court-appointed search warrant stating he was there to confiscate any contraband that Hawke had in his mansion, including alcohol, but not excluding other things Hawke might own that the templars deemed illicit. Hawke looked back up furious. “Look I already followed the order. Ask Varric, I just sold him my alcohol collection.”

“The cheap stuff I’ll keep in the Hanged Man, “donated,” but, uh, if you fine, good sers follow me to my estate I can show proof of sale,” Varric made a motion to his car parked on the street, but Cullen held up his hand in refusal.

“So you’ll still have access,” he said crossly.

“No, I swear. I’m done with the stuff until I’m free and clear. Everything’s peachy.”

Baldy #2 stepped forward with a Breathalyzer and said in a stern voice. “Messere.”

Hawke sniffed angrily and turned to see Merrill coming out of the house. “Vhenan, Varric, why are you taking so long? The food’s getting…” she saw all the templars and froze. “Cold,” she finished awkwardly.

Baldy #2 cleared his throat pushing the machine up to Hawke’s mouth. With a ragged sigh, he leaned forward and breathed into it.

After a few moments, the meter remained 0.00. “He’s sober,” Baldy #2 reported.

“For now,” Cullen snorted pushing past him and Merrill and into Hawke’s mansion. Hawke followed, feeling panicked. Everything had been hidden and they were prepared for a search, but how long were they going to be there? How thoroughly would they search?

“Look, I have nothing to hide.” Merrill crept to his side taking his hand.

“I don’t believe you. And I also believe you’re hiding more than you say you are, so Meredith’s ordered an inspection,” Cullen said. The templars followed closely behind Hawke almost like an escort. They had their hands near their guns as if Hawke would attack any moment. And if Hawke wasn’t careful he would.

Boof must have sense Hawke’s thoughts because he raced down out of Hawke’s bedroom and jumped off the balcony, barking madly.

“Boof, no!” Hawke cried out. The dog rolled as he hit the ground and bounded forward, his teeth baring at the intruders but Hawke blocked Boof with his body. At first, he managed to grab his chest, but he slipped as the dog kept lunging. The templars, including Cullen, drew their guns and pointed it at the dog which Hawke kept blocking with his body. He grabbed Boof by the collar, but the dog was still pulling forward. He snapped at the air, drool flying with unbridled rage in his eyes.

“Restrain him!” Cullen ordered, his handgun still pointed at Hawke and the dog.

“What do you think I’m doing? Put down your fucking guns!” Hawke shouted, which agitated his dog even more and he growled, choking, as his claws raked the ground as he tried to push forward.

“Hey, hey, everyone just calm down,” Varric said looking at both Hawke and the templars.

Merrill’s eyes were wide with panic, but she stepped forward and calmly put her body in between Hawke, Boof and the guns, her hands held up. Her back was to the templars. Hawke panicked thinking she might be caught in the crossfire. “Boof, sweetie,” her shaky voice still sweet. She reached for the snapping dog, slowly with trembling hands. “It’s Merrill. You’re safe right now.”

Fenris, Aveline, Bethany, and Orana had come from the kitchen, their eyes wide in fear as they saw the contingent of templars pointing their guns at Merrill, Boof, and Hawke. He prayed Anders had already gone down through the secret tunnel in the basement, safe, but he didn’t have time to check.

“Merrill, don’t,” Hawke pleaded. “Get out of the way.” It took almost all his strength to restrain his dog, but Boof recognized Merrill, and the dog stopped chomping. Hawke wouldn’t let Boof be slaughtered but he couldn’t let Merrill be shot either.

Boof still growled menacingly, the sound filled the room. She didn’t move closer until Boof stopped lunging. His eyes were trying to communicate something. Hawke was able to adjust his grip, but he dared not let go in case Boof got another idea.

Aveline stepped out marching up to Cullen and pushed down his gun. She was out of uniform now but she was still intimidating even in tank top and jeans. “What is the meaning of this?”

“We have a search warrant,” Cullen explained. “Please do not interfere. We know where your loyalties lie.”

Aveline looked at the warrant conflicted. Hawke knew she was duty-bound to honor it, but she wouldn’t step out of the way. She glared at the templars, fury in her eyes. “You can do your search after you put down your guns.”

Merrill was ignoring this, her focus on the panicked mabari. “Boof,” she said sweetly, and reached over slowly, attempting to pet Boof. A booming bark stopped her. It wasn’t a threat, but he seemed to want Merrill to get out of the way. “I know you’re scared, but it’s ok. No one’s going to harm you or Hawke.”

The dog growled in response, disagreeing.

“Do you have a kennel to put him in?” Cullen asked.

“There’s one in Hawke’s room. We can put him there,” Aveline told Cullen.

Hawke ignored him, focusing on Boof. “Hey, buddy, I know templars fucking suck, but we’re not fighting this battle, ok? I need you to listen. Calm down.”

The dog whined in response, and then returned to growling. This wasn’t working and Boof was going to get himself killed.

“Put him to sleep,” Merrill said, looking straight at Hawke.

It took a moment to register, and Boof growled and barked, and lunged again, trying to break free of Hawke’s grip. Hawke called to his mind great fatigue and channeled it through his hands. The dog barked, and boofed, and then collapsed falling forward on his face and then promptly started snoring. Hawke finally breathed out.

He picked up his 100-pound dog and hoisted him up into his arms, leaning back so he could put most of the weight on his chest. The templars were only now just putting away their guns “What the fuck is wrong with you guys?” he growled.

“Vhenan,” Merrill said, touching his arm and gazing up at him. “Lock Boof up and let’s go eat.”

Her lack of fear puzzled the templars and they exchanged wary glances. She grabbed Hawke’s arm, recognizing that he was starting to meltdown. She said, “Hey, I’m here. Just breathe.”

So Hawke did. He squeezed his dog, the sleeping lug completely limp and just focused on the feel of his heartbeat and felt the coarseness of his long, sandy blond fur. Hawke kept his voice even. “How long will you be here?”

“If you cooperate, only a few hours,” Miranda said. She seemed pleased to see him squirm.

Hawke breathed evenly and slowly, squeezing Boof again. “I am cooperating.”

“Thank you,” Cullen smiled and turned to Merrill. “I’m sorry for this disturbance, Miss. If you’d like, you may continue your meal. We’ll try our best not to disturb you.” It was a little late for that.

Outside of Hawke, Cullen was a perfect gentleman that Hawke couldn’t hate him for. He did kind of start it. But Cullen was an idiot. He didn’t know what was worse, a bad man trying to do good, or a good man not realizing he was doing bad.

Merrill reached up and stroked Hawke’s cheek, bringing him out of his racing thoughts. “Let’s go eat,” she repeated. “Are you coming, Varric?” She was so good at pretending nothing was wrong. How was she doing it?

Varric appeared at Hawke’s side almost guiding him. “C’mon, I’m starving.” Did he look that fragile right now?

Hawke never kept the kennel locked before. It was just a place for Boof to sleep, though he still preferred the foot of Hawke’s bed. He had some difficulty stuffing the dog in, and when he rolled him, Boof started to wake up, his eyes panicked and searching. Hawke kissed his forehead and scratched his ear. “Everything’s ok, bud,” he whispered, and then put him back to sleep.

When Hawke got back to the table his thoughts returned to Anders, but it appeared that he had already slipped away. He breathed a sigh of relief, hoping Anders remembered to hide the passageway behind him, but he was Anders, so of course he did. Hawke tried his best to not look so guilty, but his mother always called him an open book. Did he remember to hide everything in his office? It was a disaster in there anyways, so best of luck finding anything. He kept everything illegal in his portal, and also all his journals, but Templars weren’t stupid as much as he wished they were. What Hawke was most nervous about was the hidden wall in his basement that led to his secret lab and Bethany’s charging station. If they found that they were fucked.

The celebration group dinner had turned into an awkward silence, the clinking of glasses and forks and knives on plates accompanied the sound of Hawke’s closets being turned over and desks being searched through and books being thrown of bookcases. Eventually, the noises woke Boof and his panicked barks and the sound of rattling metal filled the mansion. Orana’s lumpia was delicious and the pancet she made had tasted just like Leandra’s but Hawke could not take comfort in his meal.

Orana’s eyes were wide in fear. She sat next to Fenris, her thin eyebrows knitted together. “Messere, what’s happening?”

“They are just looking around, Orana,” Hawke smiled, but he still looked uneasy.

“Your cooking is wonderful like usual,” Merrill smiled, but she also looked nervous.

“Thank you,” she murmured, looking down shyly. “I’d like to just go to my room if that’s ok,” she was almost whispering.

Hawke nodded, still smiling. “That’s ok, Orana.”

She excused herself from the table to leave when Cullen came into the dining room and halted Orana. “Please, miss, I need you to stay in the dining room until our investigation is complete.” Bug-eyes was behind him carrying some books.

Orana’s light green eyes were wide and she nodded, and she set down on an empty seat next to Fenris, not touching anything. She folded her hands and just looked at her lap, shutting down.

Hawke stood up. “Hey, a friend gave me those.” That friend being Isabela.

“These are illegal literature banned by the Chantry,” Cullen said.

“Which is stupid. It’s just erotica.”

Cullen blushed, his face twisted in disgust. “It’s illegal, some of the material blasphemous,” he stated firmly. “We will also be confiscating your supply of lyrium potions.”

“What the hell for?” Hawke cried. “That’s not illegal.”

“Because of your association with the apostate Anders. We haven’t tracked down how but we know you supply him with resources and help shield him from the law. These may be part of your shipment for the Mage Underground.”

Hawke narrowed his eyes, furious. “Come back with proof.”

Cullen stepped forward, his face stern. “That’s what I’m here to find.”

“Vhenan,” Merrill grabbed his hand, her face worried. “Please sit down and eat.”

They searched the house for several more hours, the group trying to pass time with stories and conversation. Baldy #2 kept guard at the table making the conversation superficial, and other templars would periodically check on them to confirm that everything was “peaceful.” They were instructed to stay in their seats. Time passed slowly, and Hawke kept checking his phone watching the minutes crawl. Somehow, with Merrill and everyone else’s help, he managed to stay afloat.

They informed Hawke before they were leaving that they were taking one more thing, a bottle of Tevinter Spiced Wine that Fenris gifted him for his 26th birthday which was also the year they got together and broke up. It was Fenris’ first gift to him, so he kept the bottle. Fenris thought it was stupid, but Hawke lorded it over him. “Somewhere deep down you like me,” he would tease.

“It’s empty,” Hawke argued. “This is stupid.” He should have put it in his portal.

“Hawke,” Fenris said curtly, his stony gaze hard. “It’s just a bottle. It’s not worth the argument.”

Hawke was hurt. So all this time this was what he meant to him. Hawke dropped his shoulders, releasing the bottle from Cullen’s grip.

“Thank you,” Cullen nodded shortly, “for your cooperation. Have a good day, Champion.” And then he smiled wryly. “And good luck with your anger management.”

Hawke almost punched him, and Merrill grabbed his arm, bringing him out of his thoughts. “Don’t,” she whispered.

The templars marched out of Hawke’s estate, loot in hand, but found nothing else. He once again had gotten lucky. Hawke threw his hand, summoning a ball of blue flame muttering to himself angrily. Most of it was unintelligible but it was something along the lines of “fuck Cullen,” “fuck templars,” and “fuck the Chantry.”

Orana had slipped away to her room, understandably needing some time alone. She couldn’t handle seeing Hawke like this.

“This is fucking dogshit. Fucking come in my house and almost shoot my fucking dog and fucking everyone like fucking idiots.” Hawke was pacing and using fuck every other word now. This wasn’t good. “This is fucking bullshit.”

“That got a little messy, but Boof’s ok, Hawke,” Aveline stayed back, wary of the fire in Hawke’s hands. ”It’s time to calm down.”

Hawke’s laughs were always loud and boisterous, but in response to Aveline’s request, he chuckled. It was neither warm and inviting in his usual manner, but chilled the room. “Oh I’m calm,” he said, tossing the blue flame from one hand to another while his friends watched nervously.

Varric warily tried to tear his friend’s eyes away from the ball of blue flame. “Right, you are cool as a the Frostbacks. So maybe put down the fireball before you burn your mansion down, again.”

“I know what I’m doing Varric,” Hawke said, testily making the flame bigger.

“Vhenan!” Merrill said crossly. She marched in front of the path he was pacing and firmly crossing her arms and planting her feet squarely in front of him. There was mana rising from her body as she raised her magic in a wa

rning. “Put it out, now.”

Everyone held their breath, especially Fenris. Hawke felt like he had been punched in the gut and his eyes went wide. Merrill was never this direct at him, but here she was scolding him like she was his Mother.

Hawke gulped down, deeply embarrassed, and resisted throwing the flame into the fireplace. He took a deep breath and held it and clenched his fist. The flame choked and sputtered at first refusing to die. Hawke struggled, his anger all feeding the dying flame. “I’m safe,” he reminded himself, trying to slow his beating heart and racing thoughts. He breathed as evenly as he could manage and it wavered and slowly it disintegrated into smoke.

Bethany’s mouth fell open. “What just happened?”

“Impressive,” Fenris raised his eyebrows amused. Great, now his ex had jokes.

“It worked!” Merrill squeaked, overjoyed. She was bouncing up and down her hands clapping and flailing. Hawke had to admit her cuteness was deflating him.

Aveline put a fond hand on Merrill’s shoulder. “Please do that more often.”

“Yeah,” Hawke cringed, “gotta get used to that.”

As the others were congratulating Merrill for a job well done Hawke felt himself swirling into a meltdown and he held his head trying to calm this rage that burned inside him. He signed up for this. He knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but he didn’t know how to corral this beast. He knew he needed to change but he didn’t need counseling. He could do it himself.

“Ugh,” Hawke sat down on the ground and put his head on his knees, not sure what to do now. “You guys don’t think I need anger management, right?”

“Actually, I think it’s an excellent idea?” Aveline said.

“What?” Hawke felt the second gut punch. He looked at the woman he was destined to marry for help. “Merrill,” he whined.

“Vhenan,” she sat down next to him and stroked his newly buzzed hair fondly, “This doesn’t have to be a bad thing. You’ve been through a lot. The Judge was being merciful when he suggested counseling. He might be trying to help.”

“But you heard him. She’s a Chantry sister. This is just some ploy so they can get information out of me. For their fucking investigation. It’s too risky.”

“Then don’t talk about that stuff with her. Talk about that with me,” Merrill said bluntly.

Hawke blinked.

“Merrill, you’re full of good ideas today,” Bethany said putting a hand on her shoulder. It kind of seemed obvious now, but it didn’t mean he liked the idea.

“Not you, too,” Hawke groaned.

“Lucky,” Bethany settled herself next to Merrill and grabbed his hand like they were kids again. It was so nice to be able to hear her voice again and feel her touch again. “You know I love you but…there’s a lot of stuff you don’t talk about and I wish you would. It’s healthy. You need to start learning to let go.”

“I have,” Hawke argued.

“I’ve been in your head. I see it probably better than you do,” Bethany said quietly, rubbing his hand like she used to.

Hawke felt so humiliated he felt like he’d start crying, but then he’d never live that down. He buried his head in his knees and groaned obnoxiously. “Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.”

“I’d suggest a drink but your court-ordered sober. I have some dry martinis, some cards, and some royal root all waiting in my car for us to party.” That’s right, they couldn’t take the root away from him.

How did that dwarf always know what he needed? “Varric, I love you,” Hawke said not raising his head.

#dragon age fic #anti-cullen #anti-templar #lucky hawke #hawke x merrill #cleaning up old chapters #and posting them #enby hawke fic

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almaasi · 5 years

Text

reaction post typed while watching SPN 14x08 “Byzantium”

*insert gif of me with raging fireballs for eyes and a huge smile, throwing flowers everywhere*

03:45pm

WHooo a meredith glynn episode!!!!! my fave

i always hear the 10th doctor saying “byzantium” and i can’t even put my finger on why. i guess he said it once. followed by the word “crystals”. probably what powers the tardis tbh

brb gonna get a lil snackaroo

04:04pm

okay a whole mealaroo, same difference

LET’S WATCH THE THING

04:06

i like that this recap is mostly women saying important things, quoted from multiple episodes

the stars have aligned

04:08

sam: “tell them yourself, they’ll get back in a minute”

oh no the pain in sam’s eyes

i lowkey forgot jared could act

04:10

jack: what happens next, for someone like me?

sam: i don’t know

jack: then it’s gonna be an adventure

he is THE PUREST SOUL

04:11

sam: “he’s gone”

WHAT??? NO?????!?!?!

WHAT??2RF

JDFG?

/????????

NO? I WAS 0% EXPECTING THIS

WHAT THE HELL

EXCUSE ME I WANT A REFUND FOR THIS EMOTIONAL INVESTMENT

SERIOUSLY I 100% BELIEVED HE’D BE OKAY

WHO ALLOWED THIS

/frowns and continues watching because nope this will be FIXED

at some point

undoubtedly

04:14

oh nooooo

does cas always check with dean’s emotions so he can reflect them, or because he wants to check if dean’s okay before allowing himself to feel his own emotions?

because he always does this

04:16

also i wanna know why this is clearly affecting dean so much more than cas or sam when they all cared about him like parents

does he just take things to heart way more, or is jack specifically linked in his mind to something he did wrong and the guilt is overwhelming?

also i totally would’ve loved to see them all bawling their eyes out tbh

04:18

why is cas the one holding everything together

dean’s in pain, cas helps him

sam’s in pain, dean lets him be but cas wants to help

but how is cas feeling

04:21

would fresh wood even burn???? i thought you’re meant to get dead, old wood

or maybe i know nothing and you’re meant to chop down poor, innocent trees

04:24

dean: “tonight? we get loaded”

and now i’m crying ;~;

04:25

fuk u

04:26

it’s obviously misha but it’s also canon cas now and he’s smiling and i’m sobbing and i can’t handle this

okay dean needs to kiss that lil bit of caramel off his lip RIGHT NOW

100% the reason the editors used that shot

04:28

okYA THAT RIGHT THERE/ THAT’S DRUNK JENSEN

NESNEJ, IF YOU WILL

I KNOW THAT LOOK ANYWHERE

THAT’S JENSEN LOOKING AT MISHA WITH DRUNK HEARTEYES

they must’ve used real liquor somewhere in this, either that or jensen is REALLY good at acting drunk with his eyes

AND FUCK THAT’S ALSO DEAN LOOKING AT CAS WITH DRUNK HEARTEYES

SHIT

this episode is just a list of things i did not fucking expect to see right now

04:33

tbh jack’s heaven is probably very close to my idea of heaven too

endless team free will/destiel soft fanfiction where nothing is wrong and they like me

04:35

how does he look SO. GOOD.

04:37

honestly right now as they’re having this conversation about angel tablets, my bladder is straining in sympathy for dean’s

please somebody let him leave to use the bathroom

i cannot imagine how much liquid is inside him right now AND AT THE SAME TIME HE MUST BE THE MOST DEHYDRATED

save this boy

04:41

oooh is jack gonna meet his mom in heaveeeeeeennnnn

04:44

dean: “psycho ex-angel killer”

um dude everyone you know and love has murdered angels

04:50

oooohhhh yes i did recognise the black inky skeleton thing but didn’t place it until now

04:50

duma: “what does it want?”

naomi: “the boy”

unsure if that counts as a bechdel test pass but it was close

duma: “so what do we do?”

naomi: “give it what it wants”

okay THAT counts