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melanielocke · 3 years

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Because I was following him

I rewrote the CoI scene where Alastair comes to Thomas’ rescue from Alastair’s POV a while back.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31310876

Alastair cursed underneath his breath when he witnessed what happened at the Golden Square. Of course Thomas had to let himself get caught by Inquisitor Bridgestock. Now everyone thought he was the killer, and Alastair was the only one who could testify on his behalf.

He quietly followed the Inquisitor and his patrol, who were dragging Thomas along with him. None of them had any idea he was there and Alastair intended for it to stay that way. Bridgestock did not like him much and might even use his presence as an excuse to accuse Alastair of the murders. Better to wait until the Consul was there, and then testify.

He had never intended for anyone to know about him following Thomas. He knew it wouldn’t change anything, he knew Thomas would not forgive him. Nor did he deserve that. But he would still do the best he could to keep Thomas safe, to make sure his recklessness wouldn’t get him killed. He could live with Thomas hating him, but he could not live with the idea of him dying. How any of those fools were still alive, Alastair had no idea.

He followed Bridgestock’s party into the Institute. None of them noticed he was there as they dragged Thomas to the sanctuary to lock him up there while Alastair stayed behind, and that gave him the time to think. He couldn’t go in like this, his hair was a mess and he looked very distraught. He would need to compose himself, to put on the mask from the academy, otherwise everyone would be able to tell that he loved Thomas.

He needed a good reason why he’d been following Thomas too, no one would believe him being there was just a coincidence and he couldn’t tell anyone the real reason he’d followed Thomas. As far as anyone else knew, he disliked Thomas as much as the Merry Thieves disliked him. Of course, Cordelia did like those boys. And he figured that was a good enough excuse. Cordelia was fond of Thomas, he was one of her husband’s closest friends after all. He’d made sure to keep Thomas safe because he didn’t want his sister to lose a friend.

Alastair slipped into a nearby bathroom, trying to fix his hair and his clothes, but no matter what he did his hair wouldn’t lie flat. Some of the black dye had faded and left a few patches of blonde is his predominantly black hair. He sighed. He guessed it didn’t matter, he looked like he had been on the streets all night, sleep deprived and messy. Some day soon he’d fix his hair but right now he had other priorities.

He took in a deep breath and made his way to the Sanctuary. Thomas’ friends had made it there already, and his older sister Eugenia was standing outside the door. She eyed him suspiciously.

‘What are you doing here, Carstairs?’

‘I’m here to get your brother out of prison,’ Alastair said.

‘How?’ Eugenia let go of her hostility.

‘I saw what happened. I’ve been following him ever since he started going out on these patrols alone. He didn’t kill Lillian Highsmith.’

‘You realize Bridgestock might try to pin suspicion on you instead, or claim that you’re lying on his behalf. He’s in quite a state and refuses to admit he’s wrong about having found the killer.’

Alastair shrugged. ‘That’s a risk I’m willing to take.’

‘Why were you there anyway? Thomas was caught very early in the morning, why would you be out at such an hour?’

Alastair sighed, letting go of the mask. ‘Because I was following him.’

‘You were… why would you do that?’

Alastair hesitated. He couldn’t exactly explain why he had been following Thomas to his sister. Nor to the Consul and Inquisitor. Good time to try his excuse. If Eugenia didn’t believe it, he’d know he’d have to think of something better.

‘Cordelia is fond of him and his friends, someone had to keep him safe. I figured it was the least I could do.’

Eugenia didn’t seem suspicious, at least. ‘Thank you. Alright, go in.’

Alastair put on the mask again and walked in. Chin up, posture straight, making sure he looked every bit the arrogant bastard he used to be. He hated that person, hated that mask, but it was a necessary evil. Everything so they wouldn’t realize he loved Thomas.

‘Dear God,’ said Matthew Fairchild with obvious loathing. ‘Could this day get any worse? What the hell are you doing here, Carstairs?’

Alastair glared at him. Even now Matthew Fairchild always managed to get under his skin.

‘Alastair,’ said the consul, ‘I’m afraid I must ask you to go, these are private.’ She frowned at Thomas’ father, who looked angry. At him, or because his son was wrongfully imprisoned? Alastair hoped it was the latter. ‘Has the front door become unlocked?’

Alastair glanced at Thomas for only a moment, he was absolutely terrified and Alastair suspected that was because of him. It stung, but Alastair kept his chin up. They wouldn’t see.

‘No, the door was not unlocked,’ he said, ‘at least not when I came in. Which was some time ago. You see, I followed Thomas here and came in with the Inquisitor and his patrol. I witnessed miss Highsmith’s death, the entire incident.’

Matthew Fairchild sprang to his feet. ‘Alastair, if you’re lying, I swear on the angel-‘ His mother didn’t let him finish that sentence.

‘Stop!’ the consul yelled, her hand up. ‘Alastair, say what you mean. Now.’

‘As I said, I was in the Golden Square when Thomas was passing through. I also heard Lillian Highsmith scream. I saw Thomas run to help her. She was already dying when he got there. He never harmed her. I’ll swear to it.’

Matthew sat back down. Alastair dared once more to look at Thomas, he seemed confused but at least he was no longer scared. Thomas’ father seemed rather pleased, which only made Alastair feel ashamed. Gideon Lightwood likely had no clue of the past between him and his son, and ought to hate him as much as the Merry Thieves did.

‘Er – what?’ Christopher asked.

The Inquisitor sneered at him. ‘So it’s a coincidence on top of coincidence, then. Tell me, Carstairs, what possible reason could you have had to be in Golden Square at the same time as Thomas Lightwood.’

Alastair looked disdainful at the Inquisitor, making no effort to conceal his hatred for the man. ‘Because I was following him. I’ve been following Thomas for days. I knew he was going out on these insane night patrols by himself, and I wanted to make sure that he was safe. Cordelia is fond of him.’

Thomas looked as him as if he was watching water as it burnt. ‘You’re the one who’s been following me?’

‘You knew someone was following you?’ Matthew shouted. ‘And you didn’t say anything? Thomas!’

As much as Alastair hated to admit it, Fairchild had a point. But Thomas was bloody stubborn, and of course he’d continued his patrols even knowing someone was following him. It might just as well have been the killer. How any of these Thieves were still alive today, Alastair had no idea.

‘Everyone be quiet,’ Charlotte said, calm but determined.

She reminded him of Charles right now, a thought that made him nauseous as he always was when he thought of his former lover. Determined not to show any emotion, Alastair studied his nails.

‘This is preposterous, Charlotte. Carstairs is lying to cover up for his friend,’ Bridgestock said.

‘They’re not friends,’ said James. ‘One of us might lie for Thomas. Not Alastair.’

That wasn’t quite true, Alastair would certainly lie for Thomas if it would save his life. Fortunately, he didn’t have to.

‘Then he’s probably mad with grief over his father’s death. Either way he’s not credible,’ Bridgestock snarled, looking at him with a rage that made Alastair suspect this was personal to him somehow.

‘And yet we are going to hear him out, and Thomas as well, because that is the task that is appointed to us,’ Charlotte Fairchild said, her tone cold as ice. Again she sounded just like her oldest son. ‘Thomas and Alastair both will be held here in the Sanctuary until they can be tried by the Mortal Sword.’

Alastair suspected something like this might happen, but did not look forward to the prospect of being locked up with Thomas Lightwood. He wasn’t sure he could take Thomas’ anger, even if it was completely justified. He would have to wear the mask until the consul came back.

‘You cannot make that decision without me,’ Bridgestock said. ‘I would try them right now, if not for the fact that the Mortal Sword is currently in Paris.’ Alastair couldn’t place the loathing in the Inquisitor’s voice when he said Paris.

‘Fortunately, Will and Tessa will be here tomorrow morning with the sword,’ said Charlotte. ‘Now, Maurice, I fear your eagerness to make your arrest known has only stoked panic. You had best come with me to the courtyard, to communicate that the Enclave has the matter well in hand. The identity of the accused will not be released until the Mortal Sword is employed tomorrow.’

Bridgestock gave one last furious look at the consul and then stalked out of the room. Alastair wondered, if someone did manage to break in here and take matters into his own hand, would they come for him first? Certainly, he looked a lot more murderous than Thomas.

Cordelia slipped through the entrance before the Inquisitor closed the door. Had she been here all this time? Alastair hadn’t seen her.

‘I heard,’ she said, pressing her forehead against his shoulder. ‘I was outside with Eugenia. I heard everything.’

‘Ghoseh nakhor, hamechi dorost mishe,’ Alastair said, stroking Cordelia’s back. Everything will be alright.

He lowered his voice. ‘Listen to me, Layla. I haven’t wanted to fret you, but Maman has been told by the Silent Brothers to keep to her bed, for the sake of her health and the baby’s. I do not think we should worry her more. Tell her I’m spending the night at the Institute to keep Christopher company.’

Cordelia blinked, Alastair could tell she was trying to hold back tears. ‘Yes, I’ll send a runner with a message, but will she believe that? You hardly know Christopher.’

He kissed his sister’s forehead, closing his eyes, letting go of the mask for a moment. ‘She’ll just be glad to think I have a friend, I suspect.’

His mother was always so concerned about his lack of friends, and Christopher was at least believable, he liked anyone who was willing to listen to his ramblings about science. Thomas had told him as much when they’d made the antidote together all those months ago.

‘Alastair,’ Layla said.

The consul didn’t let her finish. ‘This room has become entirely too crowded. All of you, save Alastair and Thomas, clear out. You too, Gideon. We must be seen to be cooperating, you do understand that.’

‘Indeed,’ Gideon Lightwood said, but Alastair wasn’t so sure he understood.

He smiled at Thomas, and it hurt to see the way they exchanged looks. What was it like, to have a father like that? Someone who cared enough to defend his son when he was accused of murder, who was offended at the idea of Thomas being locked in here.

“But it’s ridiculous just leaving them here, they need blankets, food, they’re not being tortured, Charlotte.’

‘Indeed not. They’ll have everything they need. Now Gideon, Christopher, Matthew, James, and you too, Cordelia, you must go.’

Reluctantly, all of them left, stopping next to Thomas for some encouraging words. Cordelia released him reluctantly and left with the boys. She turned around one last time. ‘If they don’t have the Mortal Sword here by tomorrow morning, I’ll break you out with Cortana.’

Alastair guessed that was something to look forward to.

‘I heard that!’ the consul scolded, but Alastair could see a faint smile on her face that was very much unlike Charles.

Everyone left, with ultimately the consul locking the door behind them, leaving him behind with Thomas. Good thing he’d brought a book, as he’d need to avoid Thomas’ anger for some time.

#Alastair Carstairs #Thomas Lightwood #Eugenia Lightwood #Charlotte Fairchild #Gideon Lightwood #Matthew Fairchild #James Herondale #Cordelia Carstairs #The Last Hours #tlh #Chain of Gold #Chain of Iron

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inferior-fairy · 3 years

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Whumptober 2020 Masterlist

Day 1: Waking Up Restrained | Shackled | Hanging

Hanging on by a Thread

Obi-Wan didn’t know how long he’d been hanging there, only that it had been long enough for him to lose all feeling in his arms. Blood dripped down from his wrists, the weight of his own body held just above the ground causing the shackles to cut into his skin. It was starting to get harder to breathe with his arms above his head, but stretching his toes down to rest on the ground hurt too much to try and do anymore.

The sound of Obi-Wan’s breath in his cell was his only companion for a long time. He could feel himself drifting off, exhaustion overpowering the pain keeping him awake, when his cell door slammed open.

Day 2: "Pick Who Dies" | Collars | Kidnapped

A Rock and a Hard Place

“And now the great Jedi General Anakin Skywalker is presented with a choice,” the queen grinned. Her words were barely loud enough for him to hear even though she was only a few feet away from him. There was a slight echo as her words were projected to the rest of the audience. “There are two in the arena now. Which will you choose to survive? Your master, or the slave? Who do the Jedi value more, an innocent life or one of their own?”

Day 3: Manhandled | Forced to their Knees | Held at Gunpoint

Falling to Pieces

“-Jedi Knight!” The queen, Miraj Scintel, was the one speaking. Her gold jewlery glimered in the sun as she continued to talk with Anakin and Ahsoka by her side. Obi-Wan continued to be paraded into the arena, pushed around if he wasn’t moving quite fast enough for the guards’ liking. “My friends, my good friends, do not fear the Jedi! They are no different from others we have forced into submission. For they have forsaken their ideals to serve a corrupt Senate! Every Jedi has become a slave to the Republic. The Jedi Order is weak and we will help break it.”

Day 4: Caged | Buried Alive | Collapsed Building

Bird Born For Joy

Ahsoka remembered being forced into a cage on the Kadavo mission. She remembered dangling over a high drop, with large animals shaking the cage trying to get to her. Her cage was secure- and when did it become her cage instead of the cage?- but that didn’t stop her heart from pounding at every movement.

She’d tried to stay calm and meditate, remembering the lessons she’d been taught as an initiate and later as a padawan by Master Kenobi. Cross-legged in an easy and comfortable position, hands resting lightly on her knees, focusing on breathing. Letting everything go to listen to the Force and feel it flow around, in, and through everything.

But eventually her thoughts drifted to that which she had been avoiding. The auction.

Day 5: On the Run | Failed Escape | Rescue

Windows to the Soul

You’re celebrating when it happens. Another battle, won with fewer casualties than is unfortunately regular. You look around to your men and you think- we might win this. One day this war will be over, and you can rest.

You can go back to your Temple with your family, mourn those you’ve lost, and celebrate the brothers joining. You can lay down your lightsabers, let them rest- for they are tired too, the kyber just as worn as the Jedi they have bonded with- and you can go back to your art. To studying history and literature, helping those who need it rather than senators who demand your attention and reduce your faith in the Force to mere parlor tricks. You can raise your younglings in a time of peace instead of sending padawans to war and you can sit and just breathe. You never missed the quiet before.

Day 6: "Get it Out" | No More | "Stop, Please"

Please...

“Stop, please,” Obi-Wan said quietly. Anakin had endured everything they'd thrown at him for so long- the cuts, whips, bruises, stabs, but Obi-Wan wasn’t sure how much longer he could last. His limbs were shaking and his eyes had gone hazy and unfocused. Anakin hadn’t been able to look Obi-Wan in the eye for hours, but recently he hadn’t even been staring at his general vicinity, just into the middle distance. It was most likely a combination of the head injuries and blood loss and the Seperatists still would not let up.

Obi-Wan didn’t know if their torturer hadn’t heard or was making Obi-Wan beg for the privilege to turn over classified information. The man twirled a knife between his fingers and lightly traced the skin of Anakin’s arm with it. Anakin didn’t let out a sound as the tip slowly parted his flesh and bright red drops of blood spilled out to cover dried old trails. He was far too used to this type of pain now.

“Please! No more,” he begged without shame. Obi-Wan would say anything, so anything to stop the man before him from hurting Anakin more. “I’ll do it.”

Day 7: Support | Carrying | Enemy to Caretaker

I’ve Got You

Obi-Wan remembers the battle. He remembers the sight of blaster bolts flying across the field. Clones screaming in fear and agony all around him. He remembers desperately blocking the shots and killing droids as they overwhelm him and his men. He remembers thinking that there’s nothing he can do to protect his padawan behind him.

It's a surprise to open his eyes again.

Day 8: Day 8: "Don't Say Goodbye" | Abandoned | Isolation

Stages of Surviving

Pain. Death. Despair. Insanity. Darkness. Revenge.

It swirled around him like an angry snowstorm

All of them, the other would feel like he himself had.

Day 9: "Take Me Instead" | "Run!" | Ritual Sacrifice

sharpen your knife

Anakin didn't know where he was, who had him, or what had happened.

All he knew was pain.

The pain in his head, pounding in time with his heart.

He couldn't even scream as he was strapped down against the stone altar and blades pierced his arms.

Day 10: Blood Loss | Internal Bleeding | Trail of Blood

don't leave me

Bright red drops stood out starkly against pure white snow. Everywhere Anakin looked the planet was stained with the blood of his men, those dead and those still dying.

“Obi-Wan!” He yelled into the after-battle haze. Clones barely looked up from where they laid, far too used to their commander’s screaming. Normally he might stay and help comfort a few, but Anakin could barely think past his panic and the fading bond in his head. “Master!”

Anakin tugged on their bond and limped off in the direction it led as fast as he could. Everything he passed was a blur, clones blending into the background as he focused on finding exactly where Obi-Wan had ended up after being separated from Anakin. Not even a few moments later Anakin hurried his pace, the sight of smears of dark red spurring him on.

Day 11: Defiance | Struggling | Crying

break me down/build me up (to what you want me to be)

Figures walk behind the bars of Anakin’s cell, his cage. That’s what it is- a space designed to keep him in and show him off, break him until he’s little more than a feral pet in captivity. They want his mind torn in half and his body in pain, willing to do whatever they want in order to have a few more seconds of peace.

It’s too bad that they won’t get what they want.

Day 12: Broken Down | Broken Bones | Broken Trust

Even Stars Burn Out

“No no no- Anakin!” He fell to his knees next to the body of his former padawan. Up close Anakin looked even worse, golden skin pale and breath shallow. “Oh, Anakin,” he whispered as he saw the damage to his chest. Whatever had hit him had been large and heavy, enough to break nearly every rib and cave in his chest.

“Shh, no, dear one, I’ve got you,” Obi-Wan whispered as he brushed blood off of Anakin’s lips.

“Obi- I don’t-” Anakin coughed again and more drops appeared. They stained his skin even after Obi-Wan desperately brushed them away with shaking hands. This couldn’t- no- Obi-Wan choked back a sob as Anakin choked back blood.

Day 13: Delayed Drowning | Chemical Pneumonia | Oxygen Mask

Breathe In, Breathe Out

Obi-Wan started to panic as Anakin couldn’t stop coughing. It seemed to be getting worse as Anakin’s entire body started to shake with the force of his it.

“Anakin- Anakin what’s wrong-”

Anakin coughed again in response. He looked up at Obi-Wan with watering eyes as he forced out a quiet “Master- it hurts-” before doubling over.

Day 14: Branding | Heat Exhaustion | Fire

Burn

Anakin had been born in the desert. He was used to the heat of two suns beating down upon his back at all hours of the day.

Anakin and fire, through his life.

Day 15: Possession | Magical Healing | Science Gone Wrong

symphony of stardust

Anakin was still just barely stable when they arrived on Coruscant.

Healers swarmed them the second they touched down, voices overlapping with each other as they did their best to help Anakin while rushing him along to the Halls of Healing.

Obi-Wan wasn’t sure what caused it to finally happen. After hours of staying as still as the grave Anakin finally moved, his back arching off the bed as he screamed and the lights flickered.

Day 16: Day 16: Forced to Beg | Hallucinations | Shoot the Hostage

Hold On

“Beg me,” Maul sneered, “To spare your padawan’s life.”

Obi-Wan panted from where he was standing. He couldn’t focus on the monster threatening his former padawan, he was too focused on Anakin. On the cuts and bruises on his face, the tears in his clothing, the concussed look in his eyes. Maul’s hand threaded through Anakin’s hair was probably the only thing holding him up at the moment.

“Or should I run him through like I did your master? Let you watch the life bleed out of his eyes? Should I cut him and half and see if he can survive like I did all those years?”

Day 17: Blackmail | Dirty Secret | Wrongfully Accused

what do we have at the end of the day? / each other, and hope

"Do you understand, Vader?" Palpatine- no, Sidious- hissed. This wasn’t the grandfatherly facade Sidious had donned to fool the Jedi, the Senate, and the public- this was who he really was, the Sith behind the mask.

Anakin shook from where he was kneeling. His Master hadn’t been pleased with him ever since he’d let Kenobi escape nearly a year ago- he’d been in the med bay for weeks after that incident, recovering from what his master had done to him. He could barely walk when Sidious had sent him on another mission. Since then Anakin’s punishments for failure had been harsher and become more frequent as more and more Jedi ‘escaped’ his grasp. Anakin knew this was his last chance- leading the clones to the Jedi Temple and killing their young and their old. Or Sidious would kill him and his mother.

Day 18: Panic Attacks | Phobias | Paranoia

should have been me

Obi-Wan stumbled back to his room when everything was over. He’d been exhausted for days after Naboo but he hadn’t been allowed to break down by himself. There were too many things to do- stay and help the Noobians then head back to Coruscant with Anakin in tow, explain everything to the Council and fight for the right to teach the boy Qui-Gon had found, then put together a schedule on how to teach a boy who hadn’t been raised in the Temple and who had never been taught their customs…

Obi-Wan kept busy enough to ignore the growing panic in his chest. He ignored the looks of pity the other Jedi gave him as he showed Anakin around the Temple. Obi-Wan had enough to do, he didn’t have time for a breakdown, and Anakin’s joy kept away the cold well enough for now.

Day 19: Grief | Mourning A Loved One | Survivor's Guilt

sandstorm

There was nothing left, Obi-Wan finally realized weeks later. He’d known the fact earlier, of course. He knew everything he had lost with a pain deep enough to settle into his bones and keep him warm through the desert nights. Obi-Wan remembered that one night, his siblings in the order, his brother-son who he’d raised, the Republic he’d served his entire life.

He knew that he’d lost it all, and yet it still didn’t fully hit him until he was laying in his cot, alone in his hut, staring at the ceiling and wishing he was back on Coruscant. Obi-Wan knew with a sinking in his heart that manifested through the tears in his eyes that he could never go back to the home he once knew.

Day 20: Lost | Field Medicine | Medieval

stitches

Kix was a trained Medic. It was his job, what he had literally been born to do, and he was good at it.

So why did it feel that more of his patients died in his arms than survived?

Day 21: Chronic Pain | Hypothermia | Infection

every day (rinse and repeat)

Anakin woke up in the morning and immediately took two pills. They were small, white, round things, and though he knew it would take a little while for them to kick in and actually do their job, he could swear that he felt better immediately.

He hissed as he stepped out of bed and the light from his open window hit his face. It was more jarring than it usually was and Anakin felt a spike of pain shoot through his skull. A hand reached up to rub at his forehead and Anakin groaned as he realized how dry his mouth was and how sore his throat felt.

Fierfek.

If he was already feeling this bad it would be a Force-blessed miracle if it got any better.

Day 22: Poisoned | Drugged | Withdrawal

sap

Anakin reached out to Obi-Wan, both in the Force and with his flesh hand, but his limbs were moving like molasses. Now that he was paying more attention to it, it felt like his head had been drenched in something heavy, a weight that was dragging his eyes down and telling him to fall asleep, to drift off and to dream. Panic rose in his chest and stayed there as he wasn’t even able to push it down his training bond with his master.

“Obi-Wan?” Anakin heard his own voice speak from far away. It felt like he was underwater and not, everything muffled and yet sharpened around him. It was confusing to wrap his head around, the sensation of polar opposites occurring at the same time in his own mind.

Day 23: Exhaustion | Narcolepsy | Sleep Deprivation

no rest for the wicked

Obi-Wan swayed on his feet even as he tried his hardest to keep steady. It was more difficult with every passing moment. The need to collapse grew stronger, as did the pounding in his head and the need to yawn. He was only hearing every third sentence spoken around him and at this rate he’d be lucky if he remembered anything in a few minutes.

Day 24: Forced Mutism | Blindfolded | Sensory Deprivation

the cold/the warmth, the void/the light

Voices, muffled behind the metal of his prison. Words he couldn’t make out and wasn’t sure he wanted to. The last time he’d heard voiced it hadn’t been pleasant- he’d been locked here, after all. He tried to move, either closer to or further from the voices, he wasn’t sure- but he couldn’t twitch a muscle. Instead he resigned himself to whatever his fate might be.

Day 25: Disorientation | Blurred Vision | Ringing Ears

smoke

Smile couldn’t exactly recall when he’d been hit. He remembered dropping onto the field behind General Skywalker and the others. He remembered firing his blaster at the droids, and avoiding the bolts fired back. He remembered the grunts of his brothers around him and the screams as they were hit, and most of all, he remembered the silence when they couldn’t speak anymore.

Day 26: Migraine | Concussion | Blindness

blink

It was dark when Anakin entered the hall. Pitch-black except for the blue of his saber, held up in front of him. The kyber inside hummed, anticipating a fight, and Anakin tensed at every sound. Water dripping in the corners of the halls he walked, rodents scuttling in the background. Anything could be indicative of an incoming attack, and Anakin would not be deterred from rescuing his master.

Day 27: Earthquake | Extreme Weather | Power Outage

snowfall

He took everything in and tried to memorize every detail. Anakin’s lips, normally full and soft, were chapped and bleeding. His closed eyes covered their deep blue coloring. His skin, pale when it was once golden. Snow coated it all, even for the short time they’d been lying down.

Once, Obi-Wan might have brushed the flakes off but now he barely had the strength to keep his eyes open and breathe at the same time. Still he endured to watch over Anakin. He would not close his eyes until he physically couldn’t any longer.

The moment came much sooner than he would have preferred, but Obi-Wan was expecting it at the same time. With Anakin’s face clear in his mind, Obi-Wan drifted off into the cold.

Day 28: Accidents | Hunting Season | Mugged

Accidents Happen

It was an accident.

It was an accident, Padmé repeated to herself as she covered her mouth in horror. It wasn’t her fault at all, it was just an accident- Somehow she couldn’t convince herself of that fact.

Day 29: Intubation | Emergency Room | Reluctant Bedrest

stay safe

Ahsoka sighed as she squirmed in the bed she’d been forced into. It wasn’t comfortable no matter how she turned, and Ahsoka huffed as she collapsed back onto it. She couldn’t believe Anakin had sent her to the medbay, instead of letting her tag along on their mission. Ahsoka wanted to be with her men, fighting, instead of being trapped here in the medbay. She needed to protect them. Far too many of their men had died in this war already, and Ahsoka didn’t know how she could take the constant losses if this war lasted years, or even decades. No matter how safe Anakin promised that they would be, Ahsoka needed to be with them and not in the medbay.

Day 30: Injury Reveal | Hiding an Injury | Internal Organ Injury

innocence died screaming

Shmi shoved down all of the hurt and anger rising in her chest again, and smiled. - Obi-Wan ignored the aching in his chest as he forced himself to calm slightly and smile, though no one could see it. - Anakin knew this was nothing that he couldn’t deal with on his own, and so, he smiled. - "I'm fine."

Day 31: Experiment | Whipped | Left for Dead

spill my blood on this sand

Anakin knew how he looked in the center of the small square. It wasn’t anything unusual to see a slave tied up at the whipping post, to hear the crack of the whip, the cries of the slave, and the laughing of the masters. You never heard the slaves speak in the square. They prayed for the life of one of their own, averted and closed their eyes from the sight of their sibling tied to the post. Many of them knew what it was like to be tied there for punishment or for entertainment, and many knew that they might be next.

Anakin looked up to the sky, wishing that Leia the Great Dragon or one of the other goddesses might come and save him now. He prayed just like every other slave before him had, with all their hope and fear, until it shattered on the ground below him. Then he looked to the stained sand, and with his despair, he asked the gods to grant him the will to survive one more day.

#I finally got around to making this lmao #my writing #rynae writes #whumptober 2020 #whumptober 2020 masterlist #star wars #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #ahsoka tano

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nastybuckybarnes · 5 years

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Wicked Games - Two

Pairing: Bucky x Reader Soulmate AU

Summary: Everyone in the world has a soulmate. And until they meet that soulmate, everyone in the world stops aging at 25. Wrongfully accused of a horrendous crime and on the run, you happen to bump into the man who’s been avoiding you for the past seventy-five years.

Warnings: Angst, Violence, Injuries (Minor), Confrontation???

Word Count: 3.5K

A/n: THE GEOGRAPHY OF BROOKLYN AND ALL SURROUNDING AREAS HAS BEEN CHANGED FOR THIS STORY!!! Bucky centric chapter kinda. Idk I like it.

MASTERLIST Previous Part

Recap:

You run away from the store with a few other people then take a hard right down a back lane, leaning against a building and trying to catch your breath. You shove off of the building after another moment and run deeper into the older part of town where many buildings are either abandoned or worth millions.

As you’re running you hear a sound that makes your stomach drop.

It gets closer and closer, far louder and scarier than the sirens.

They’ve let the dogs loose on you.

~*~

You don’t think you’ve ever ran this much in your life.

Your legs aren’t hurting anymore, they’re numb. Your lungs have seemed to stop begging for oxygen and are making do with what little they’re getting. Your head is spinning and you feel like if you don’t stop soon you’ll pass out.

Pushing yourself farther, you come across the same little forested area that brought you to this town.

Not giving it a second thought, you run between the trees, looking desperately for somewhere to hide.

“She’s in the woods! Have units on the other side waiting! We cannot let her escape!” You shiver at that voice and run deeper, head snapping up as you hear something rather promising.

The bubbling of a water body.

You follow the sound, growing anxious as you hear the dogs barking approaching. You reach the water and hesitate for a moment, glancing over your shoulder.

As you see all the German Shepherds running towards you, you jump into the little river, surprised at how deep it is. You swim as fast as you can, breaking the surface and gasping for breath as one of the dogs jumps in after you.

It’s teeth latch onto your right calf and you scream, water getting into your mouth and choking you.

You desperately try to kick it off, but it’s teeth stay stuck in your leg.

“We’ve got her!” A different man shouts. You begin apologizing to the dog in your head, then lift your other foot and kick it as hard as you can. It yelps and falls off of you, whimpering as it swims back to the shoreline.

You pull yourself up on the other side and take a step, gasping as fiery pain licks up your entire right side.

Leg giving out, you tumble to the ground, cursing and moaning in pain. Your eyes flash open as you see the dogs back in the water, swimming across quickly, the cops not too far behind.

Gritting your teeth, you shove the pain away and force yourself to your feet, limp-running through the trees as fast as you can.

As the barking and yelling starts up again, your adrenaline stops the pain from being as severe. You find your way into a grassy area, and a quick look around lets you know that this is someone’s backyard.

You’re back in the fucking town.

Moving swiftly, you make your way through the streets, realizing you’re in the old neighbourhood where not many people live.

A large, nice-looking house catches your eye and you bit your bottom lip, an idea striking you.

You peel off your soaked sweater and carefully take off your shoes, setting a trap. As you move up the street, you drop one shoe then throw the other through the window of an abandoned, run down house.

Limping as fast as you can to the nice house, you tear off a piece of your shirt and stick it to a board on the abandoned house, dropping your sweater outside of it.

You move fast to the nice house, eventually making it there. You drop to your knees and crawl towards the back as you hear the dogs and cops down the street.

Testing each and every window leading to the basement of the house, you almost cry as a window slides open silently.

Being as careful, quick, and quiet as you can be, you climb through the window, your feet landing on the hard concrete floor of an unfinished basement.

Your right leg gives out for a second time and you bite back a sob at the pain, struggling to your feet to close the window.

You crawl through the basement, searching desperately for a first-aid kit. Just as you’re about to give up and bleed out all over some stranger’s basement, the familiar Red Cross looks down at you from upon a high shelving unit.

It takes everything you have not to scream as you pull yourself to your feet to grab the kit, but once it’s safely in your grasp you collapse onto the floor again, only a few feet away from the furnace.

Carefully, so very carefully, you peel the fabric of your pants away from your leg, whimpering with every brush against your wound.

It’s dark in the basement, thankfully, because if there’d been light... you doubt you’d be able to stay conscious.

Below your right knee is soaked. And not with the cold water of the river. It’s warm and sticky to the touch.

You take a shaky breath in and open the first aid kit. The bottle of Hydrogen Peroxide is heavy in your hands, and you dread using it. So much so that you think you’d rather let your leg get infected.

Pulling up your shirt, you stuff a wad of the fabric in your mouth while tipping the open bottle over your leg.

Your leg spasms and you scream a little, tears streaming down your cheeks at the newfound pain of the wound being cleaned.

You use half the bottle, just to be safe, then start tightly wrapping your entire calf with gauze, using an ace bandage after the gauze has run out.

With the tightness of the gauze and bandages around your leg, the fiery pain has been reduced to a dull ache, an ache that you can certainly live with.

You pull your arms to your chest and let out a shaky breath, trying to control your emotions as you think about how the Hell you’re going to escape someone’s house without getting caught.

~*~

“Again?! We lost her again?! How the fuck does she keep getting away?!” Bucky snarls, slamming his fists down on his desk.

“Calm down, Buck!” Steve’s commanding voice yells, shoving his friend’s shoulder.

“She’s smart. Clearly she knows what she’s doing, or at least has an idea of what she’s doing. There’s only so many abandoned buildings on your street. Your house is the only inhabited one, and I doubt she’d be stupid enough to go there anyway. You can keep your eyes open in a way that the rest of us can’t. We’re setting up a perimeter as we speak and a team is searching the woods.”

Bucky pinches the bridge of his nose, the metal plates in his arm whirring softly as he tries to calm the fuck down.

“Steve, we were so fucking close. How, how does she keep getting away?” Steve sighs and sits on the brunet’s desk.

“I don’t know. But I do know that there’s definitely a lot more to this case than we know. I looked into her family and her history. She’s basically an orphan at this point. Her mother and father both died in a car accident. Her older brother is working for NASA and hasn’t spoken to or about his little sister since their parents died five years ago. (Y/n) graduated from high school two years early with honours and got scholarships to basically any Ivy League schools. She had a hard time deciding but eventually chose to go to Princeton.”

Bucky raises his eyebrows at that. He figured you were smart, but not Ivy League smart.

“She was interested in Civil and Environmental Engineering, Evolutionary Biology, Sociology, and Soulmate Studies. Spent nearly a decade learning at Princeton, got 2 Ph.D’s and is on her way to her third.”

Bucky’s silent for a moment as he processes this. “So... Doctor (Y/l/n), huh? And no connections to anyone? Not even a best friend?”

Steve scratches the nape of his neck and sighs. “I talked to some of her co-workers. They all had generally the same story.”

“Which is what, exactly?” Bucky asks impatiently.

“That Rumlow was against her having friends. They all essentially said that whenever he came in and saw her talking to any of her coworkers he’d have a fit. Some say she’d come to work the next day and have a hard time lifting things or would appear to be in pain when she moved.”

They’re both quiet.

“So he was beating her, you think?” Steve shrugs, then sighs. “It would make sense as to why she called the cops. But I can’t confirm nor deny anything till we have her statement, which we will get.”

“So let’s try to create a hypothetical situation here,” Bucky begins, pacing the soundproof room slowly.

“Rumlow’s been beating (Y/n) for... their whole relationship. One day she snaps? Gets fed up and fights back harder than either of them thought?” Steve purses his lips. “Maybe Brock took it too far. I mean, any abuse is too much abuse, but what if it went beyond that? What if he wanted to do more than just hurt her.”

Bucky freezes and turns to Steve. “You think... you think he tried to kill her? Why? Why would he even do that? They’ve been together for how many years?”

Steve sighs, “Three and a half. But I mean, maybe he was going off the rails a bit. Closer to the end there he was getting a little more antsy.”

“I think you’re grasping at straws here, Steve. When you get her statement then you can decide whose side you’re on, but until then she’s still a murderer. And she still needs to be brought in, no matter what may have happened.”

Steve rolls his eyes, “I realize that, I just don’t want to rule out the idea that it was self-defence.” Bucky nods, plopping down in the desk chair. “I’m not ruling out anything. Hell, I can’t rule out anything cause I’ve got nothing but fucking ideas to go off of.”

“But ideas are better than nothing. And we don’t have nothing. We have what her coworkers told us. We have the pictures of the crime scene. We have the autopsy, and we have... general knowledge of where (Y/n) is. I say we grab some coffees, grab the pictures of the crime scene and come up with a few plausible scenarios.”

Bucky feels his lips twitch upwards at the suggestion.

“If you’re trying to bring back old memories to put me in a better mood... fuck you cause it’s working.” The two share a laugh and Steve stands up, shaking his arms out.

“I’ll be back with the pictures and the coffee. You clear your desk of anything not related to this case. And maybe order a pizza or something. I have a feeling we’re gonna be here for a little while.” Bucky looks at his watch then nods.

19:47

“Yeah, You’re right. But I start working evenings tomorrow, so I’m going home to sleep no later than four, alright?” The captain salutes his friend then leaves the room to gather the supplies.

Bucky orders the pizza then clears off his desk as Steve asked, trying to get himself into the correct mindset.

The crime scene photos are... interesting to say the least.

"The whole apartment is trashed. Like they were fighting in different rooms,” Steve notes around a mouthful of pepperoni pizza.

Bucky inspects the pictures carefully, the one from the bedroom holding his attention.

“Okay, give me a story for this one,” he says while pushing the picture in front of Steve.

“Well... blood on the bed... could be her period?” Bucky scrunches up his nose, not liking that possibility. “I’m no expert, but I don’t think women bleed that much.” He has a point, the white bed is soaked in bright red blood, much more than could be from menstruation.

“Okay.... One of them is asleep on the bed and the other comes at them with a knife? Hits them but they don’t die. So person one with the knife picks up the pillow and tries to suffocate person two. Person two finds the knife, grabs it, and stabs person one somewhere then runs out of the room.” Steve points to the trail of blood leading out of the bedroom and Bucky nods.

“Person one follows person two out of the room and person two throws a vase at them. Person one tries to stab person two again with a shard of the vase but person two...” Steve trails off, trying to picture what could’ve gone on in the living room of the apartment.

“Most of the vase shards are by the doorway to the bedroom except for one. And it’s bloody. So person two must’ve been stabbed a second time unless person two grabbed the shard and stabbed person one. Fuck, where are all those papers with the DNA tests? If we know whose blood is on which items it’ll be a shit ton easier to figure this out.”

“Last I heard Pierce had the papers, and he wasn’t letting them go,” Steve informs. Bucky curses under his breath and takes another sip of his coffee.

“Is he here tonight?” Steve’s eyes widen as he realizes what Bucky’s gonna try to do.

“He’s working all week. Next Monday though he starts a four-day weekend. Has his granddaughters dance recital. So then it’ll be safe to get what you want.” Bucky groans and throws his empty coffee cup at the wall, frowning as the paper cup bounces to the floor.

“We could have things to go off of, but instead we’re stuck guessing. But that’s fine, it doesn’t matter. Back to business. I’m gonna read over the autopsy again and I’ll tell you what I hypothesized happened.”

Bucky picks up the document and starts reading thoroughly.

‘MANNER OF DEATH: Homicide.

CAUSE OF DEATH: Exsanguination due to multiple stab wounds. (trunk and lower extremities)

FINDINGS: 1. Generalized pallor and evidence of exsanguination. 2. Multiple stab and incised wounds of trunk, lower extremities with one (1) stab wound penetrating right back into chest cavity; two (2) stab wounds penetrating right thigh; and another single (1) stab wound at lateral right chest penetrating into right lung. 3. A few other minor blunt-force injuries of head and trunk.

LABORATORY RESULTS:

TOXICOLOGY:

1. Blood: a. Ethanol: 0.16 gm%. b. Drugs: Cocaine present at less than 0.1 ug/ml; cocaethylene present at 0.2 ug/ml; quantity not sufficient for further examination. Lysergic Acid present at 1296 ug/ml. Further examination required.

2. Urine: Positive for cocaine, cocaine metabolite (ecgonine methyl ester), and cocaethylene, with negative EMIT barbiturates screen.

3. Ocular fluid: Ethanol, 0.16 gm%.

Bucky puts the paper down and rubs his eyes for a moment.

“Rumlow was on drugs?”

Steve looks up at that then snatches the papers away from Bucky, skimming over the words then raising his eyebrows.

“Shit. He was. And not a small amount either, it seems. What the Hell... he didn’t do LSD... this is some other drug with Lysergic Acid. It has to be. But what the fuck drug would he be on? Especially when he had work that day.”

The two sit in silence, a bad feeling washing over them. “Was she ever involved in any Chemistry? Would she have been trying to develop a new drug and tested it on him?” Steve shakes his head, picking up a different file, one with your picture on the front of it.

“Nothing besides high school chemistry and a few labs for Biology. She never would’ve worked with this stuff.” Bucky groans deeply then picks up the autopsy again. “It says here that one of the stab wounds on his leg was one inch wide and half an inch deep. The knife we found at the apartment was two inches wide and six inches long. So I’m gonna guess that she stabbed him with a shard of the vase.”

Steve nods at that and sighs. “Well, what else?”

Bucky tosses the autopsy onto the desk and puts his face in his hands.

“Person one stabs person two in the bedroom. Person two stabs person one back. Person one tries to suffocate person two but person two gets away and throws the vase at person one. Person one grabs a shard and attacks person two. They fight physically for a while until one of them eventually gets stabbed twice in the chest, thus killing them.” Steve nibbles his bottom lip for a moment then shakes his head. “This would be so much easier if we knew what her injuries were... are. Because she couldn’t have possible escaped unscathed. Hell, I’m kinda surprised she escaped at all.” Bucky nods, grabbing another piece of pizza and starting to read a different paper, hoping it’ll give him any evidence he needs to move further with this case.

Bucky heads home at three, having a hard time keeping his eyes open after over 36 hours of non-stop working.

He unlocks the door to his house and pushes inside, closing and locking the door behind himself then walking to the couch. He plops down and closes his eyes, tempted to fall asleep in his uniform right then and there.

Slowly he opens his eyes, something about his home not feeling right.

Taking a deep breath, he furrows his brows.

It smells like chemicals.

Instinctively he grabs his gun, switching off the safety and moving silently around the main floor of his house.

His heart is beating quickly in his chest, adrenaline coursing through his veins.

He moves to search the second floor, eyes alert and looking for anything that may be out of place. Every single room he searches is empty and the exact same as he left if before leaving for work whichever day he left.

That leaves only the basement.

~*~

A door squeaking wakes you from your light sleep and you open your eyes, fear filling you as you hear someone take slow steps down the stairs.

Pushing yourself to your feet, you move as far away from the stairs as you can get, finding yourself cornered by a locked window.

It takes you a moment to work up the courage to try the lock and when you do, you thank your lucky stars.

It slides silently out of place, the window pushing out with a soft ‘pop’. You bounce a few times to gain momentum and right as you’re about to jump, a booming voice shouts at you.

“Hey! Get the fuck down from there, raise your arms above your head!”

The voice makes you shiver and you slowly raise your arms, head falling down in defeat.

“Turn around slowly. Keep your hands up.” You do as he demands, your right leg burning.

“Lift your head up.” You reluctantly do so, your breath leaving you as you see the man.

You focus on his gun for a moment then move to his face, hating him immediately.

He’s absolutely gorgeous. Deep, enticing icy blue eyes; a jaw carved by Michelangelo himself, which is covered in a scruffy beard; brown hair falling out of a man bun and framing his perfect face.

Fuck this attractive man for pointing a gun at your chest. Fuck him for looking like a fucking Adonis while wearing a godforsaken police uniform. Fuck yourself for choosing his house to hide in.

You can’t think of anything else, your world blurring and spinning due to anxiety and blood loss. You drop your arms despite his words and try to steady yourself. It’s no use, however, because in an instant you’re falling to the ground and the world is going black.

~*~

Bucky stares in shock as you lie unmoving on the ground, your chest moving steadily but your eyes closed.

He puts his gun away against his better judgement and pushes your hair out of your face, staring at you for a few more moments.

You’re absolutely breathtaking. So much more beautiful than the pictures he’s seen. And you're right here. The last, biggest piece of this puzzle is in his basement.

But for some dumb reason, he doesn’t want to turn you in just yet. A selfish part of him wants to hear your side of things before he brings you to the station where you’ll be questioned and treated like garbage. As far as the majority of the station is concerned, you’re a coldhearted killer. Your fate is sealed there.

He slaps your face twice lightly, looking for any kind of twitch. When he doesn’t see any he scoops you up in his arms and walks upstairs. He puts you into the bathtub and cuffs your hands behind your back, his eyes finding the wound on your calf.

He reaches for it instinctively, wanting to make it better, then rips his hand back. He stares at his own hands in shock and disgust before getting up and walking out of the bathroom, locking the door on the way out.

He heads upstairs and closes and locks his door, desperate for a shower and a chance to clear his mind.

Kicking off his boots, pants, and utility belt, he starts calming down a bit. Making sure to lock his gun away and bringing the key into the bathroom with him.

He turns the water on hot and lets it run for a few moments, undressing all the way then stepping under the water and letting it soothe his muscles. A soft groan leaves his mouth, and he can’t help but think about you.

His mind conjures up the image of you, shirt clinging to your body after your swim earlier, showcasing curves that weren’t documented in any file. He hisses at himself and shakes his head hard, trying to shake the thoughts of you away.

He finishes his shower quickly, feeling more relaxed than he would’ve thought, and gets changed into some sweats and a tight black t-shirt. He lies down on the bed and takes a deep breath, body and mind ready for at least a few hours of sleep before he goes and deals with the stressful issue in the bathroom.

The problem that seems to be occupying his thoughts in a way he really didn't think was possible.

~*~

TAGS:

FOREVER:

@smolbeanbucky @wildefire @inumorph @impalatobakerstreet @nanna022 @mummy-woves-you @m-a-t-91 @wtfholland @bookgirlunicorn @beautifulwisdom2001 @deep-sea-glitter @mrhiddles-81 @iamwarrenspeace @bitchacho25 @escapetheshackles

MARVEL:

@fallenangelfangirl @look-to-the-stars-and-wish @maladaptive-ninja-returns @cliffordasparagus @april-14-blog

BUCKY:

@chuuulip @buckyssoul @nerd-without-a-cause @natashasnight

WICKED GAMES:

@lilypalmer1987 @bisexualfangirlsblog @i-am-always-famished @clarysthing @starkxpotts @e-wolf-98 @i-run-on-green-tea @nerd-without-a-cause @jamesbuckybarnes13 @theonelittleone @bradfordsgreekgod @littledeadrottinghood @ashlebetty @izhetbean @mu-mu-rs @bruisedfaye @bisoueffleurer

#Bucky x reader #Bucky barnes x reader #cop!bucky x reader #cop bucky x reader #soulmate au #bucky x reader soulmate #bucky x reader au #bucky x reader soulmate au

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chmergess4ever · 6 years

Text

The Chmerkovskiy’s (Part 8)

Hey Guys! Thanks for being so patient! Here is the next part to my story!! Hope you enjoy it! Let me know if there is anything you would like to see happen to either couple in the next few chapters. I think I know what end goal I’m working towards now. Enjoy!!

A few weeks later, everything was back to normal. Sharna had been over the house a lot and her and Val’s relationship was progressing.

“I know babe, I know.” Peta laughed loudly as she tried to balance the phone between her shoulder and her ear as she folded laundry for her family.

“I’m just saying. I want to take you out to a nice dinner. Shai will come with. We’ll give the two lovesick fools some time alone.” Maks said to her from the other end of the phone.

“You really think that’s a good idea.”

“For our mental sanity. Yes.”

Peta laughed again. “Ok, alright. Let’s do it.”

“Alright, babe. Get dressed up. We’re going fancy.”

Peta giggled as she shook her head and ended the phone call. She lifted her laundry basket and began making her way down the hallway. She was nearing the living room when she heard a vibration. She put her basket down and pulled her phone out of her pocket, which had no new notifications on it. Then she spotted Val’s phone on the end table by the couch. She moved to get it so she could bring it to him but as she picked it up, the light came on and she couldn’t help but see what was on his phone screen. A text from Kelly Monaco.

She rolled her eyes as she took the phone, picked up her basket and knocked on his door. Sharna answered it, dressed in one of his dress shirts which ran down to her knees.

“P!” She said excitedly.

“Val here?”

Sharna looked confused, “Um, yeah.” She looked behind her and called for Val before turning back to her best friend, “You ok? You seem upset.”

Peta nodded modestly, “Yea, I’m ok. I’m just really tired.”

“Understandable. Ya feel me?” Sharna threw her head back in laughter.

Peta smiled. “Yea, you two seem to be having fun.”

Before they could continue their conversation, Val approached the door and Sharna had receded back into the bedroom.

“What’s up, P?” He had a towel tied around his waist, and appeared to have just gotten out of the shower.

Peta put his phone in his palm, “You should consider turning previews off for your text messages.” She then turned and started down the hallway. He called after her but she didn’t want to hear it.

They went out to dinner that night but the atmosphere wasn’t right. Peta hadn’t been in the right mood since she found his phone. She knew this was a mistake. She knew that the two of them dating was just a call for disaster. She loved her brother-in-law but that didn’t change who he was as a person and his reputation regarding relationships. She deep down knew inside that he would somehow hurt Sharna. She didn’t think it would be by cheating but now she knew she was wrong. She didn’t want to see her friend get hurt and she was watching it happen before her eyes.

After dinner was over and the night dwindled down, Maks sat in their bed reading the newspaper. They had put Shai to sleep and decided that they were going to download a movie. Peta came out of the bathroom and climbed into the bed beside him.

“So are you going to talk to me?” Maks put the newspaper down and looked at his wife.

“About what?” “I know you’re upset about something. You can’t fool me.”

“It’s ok. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Well, I do.” He stroked his hand through her hair. “I don’t want you to be upset. Ever.”

Peta sighed, “Ok. Well. Lemme start by asking you a question.”

“Anything, Love.”

“Your brother. He dated Kelly Monaco, right?”

Maks chuckled, “Don’t know if I’d call it dating. But all the other stuff. How’d you even know that? It wasn’t public.”

“One would have to be stupid to think that something wasn’t going on there.”

Maks laughed again, “Yea, well, He was very much in love with her. There is no denying that.”

Peta nodded, knowing she was right. “Maks, Your brother is cheating on Sharna.” It had just blurted out and she was unable to control it.

Maks sat up straighter and took his hand away from Peta. “What?” He shook his head.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say it like that. I’m just upset.”

“What do you mean, he’s cheating on Sharna.”

“I saw his phone today. He had a bunch of texts from Kelly on his screen-”

“You read his phone?” Maks raised his voice ever so slightly.

Peta started to get worked up, “I mean, it was an accident. But that doesn’t change what he’s doing.”

“Well you shouldn’t be reading anything that has to do with him! It’s bullshit. You don’t know what those texts are for? You don’t know anything.” Maks yelled louder.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Maks! I’m trying to talk to you and all you’re thinking about is defending your brother.”

“Yea, because he’s my brother.”

Peta yelled louder now, “and I’m your fucking wife!! He’s doesn’t walk on water just because he’s related to you by blood.”

“Peta you need to calm down.”

She was now standing out of the bed and making her way to the door, “Don’t you dare tell me that I need to calm down.” She left the room and he followed her, making the situation even worse.

Val and Sharna were sitting on his bed when they heard them start yelling at each other. They couldn’t hear what it was about but they knew it was bad. As they made their way down the hallway they could start to hear clearer.

“Peta, you’re acting like-”

“Acting like what? Acting like what, Maks?” She yelled back.

“Fucking crazy!!”

“Crazy because I’m trying to protect my friend?”

“Yes!! You’re making these wild accusations and you don’t even know the story!”

“I know one thing’s for sure. I can’t talk to you about anything real!”

“I’m going to go out there.” Val turned to Sharna.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I need to help.”

“How are you going to do that?”

“I don’t know but I’m going to try.” Val got up and walked to the door of his room, he opened it and they were standing right outside of it. He walked out and put his hands on Peta shoulders gently pushing her backwards away from Maks. She swatted his hands away as they approached the living room, “Get your hands off of me! This is your fault.”

Val raised his eyebrows and raised his voice, “My fault?”

“Yes, you cheating liar!”

Val stopped talking. So did Maks and so did Peta. Sharna was standing in the doorway of this room watching the whole thing unfold.

“Peta, what the hell are you talking about?” Val spoke to her as calmly as possible.

“Talk to Kelly Monaco lately?” Peta said sarcastically.

Val went quiet, unable to respond with anything. He scrambled his head for the words but before he could answer her, Sharna was standing beside him and talking for him.

“Peta, It’s ok.”

“Sharna!! It’s not ok! He can’t treat you like that.”

“No Peta, it’s ok. I saw it, we talked about it and it’s ok.”

Val turned to his side to look at his girlfriend, “Sharna-” “Val, it’s ok. Let’s just go.” She took Val’s arm as they walked back to his bedroom but before walking in she looked over her shoulder, “Thank you for caring about me, Peta.”

That left Maks and Peta standing the hallway silently. Shai started to cry and Maks moved to get him. Peta moved to the kitchen to get a glass of water and then slowly made her way to the nursery. She stood in the doorway and watched her husband and her baby. Easily, the two most important people in her life. He wasn’t looking at her but she wanted to talk anyway.

“I’m sorry.” She spoke aloud to him.

Maks was quiet, soft spoken as he tried to get Shai back to sleep. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You were right to accuse him. You were right.”

“No, I wasn’t.” She moved to stand next to Maks, “I wrongfully accused your brother of something he apparently didn’t do.”

“She never said that. She said they talked about it.” Maks shook his head, “and by his reaction, I’m really not sure what the truth is.”

“Can we re-establish one truth? One that we definitely know?”

Maks put Shai in his crib and stood face to face with Peta putting both his hands on either side of her, “And what may that be?” “I love you.”

Maks closed his eyes and took a deep breath in, “I love you too. And Peta, about what you said earlier. About you being my wife-”

“Maks, It’s ok. I get it. He’s your family.”

“But you’re my forever.” Maks cut her off before she could finish.

Knowing she wasn’t going to win, she receded, “And you’re mine.”

Maks pulled her in for a hug and they stood like that for a long time.

Sharna moved to sit on the edge of the bed as Val paced back and forth before sitting down next to her. He looked at her and then back down to the floor, “Why’d you do that?” He asked her.

“Do what?”

“Lie for me. You didn’t see any text. And we definitely didn’t talk about it.”

Sharna sighed and nodded, “Yea, I didn’t. But I know I have a boyfriend, who I love and who I trust.

Val shook his head, “I’m not. I’m not cheating on you.”

Sharna put her hand on Val’s shoulder, “I know. Hence the trust.”

“But, I do want to explain to you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“But I want to.” He turned to face Sharna and looked her in the eyes. “I loved Kelly, a long long long time ago. And there was a moment where I thought she was the one for me. That dwindled fast, but we’ve always stayed good friends-” “And I know that, Val. I know that. You’re allowed to have friends. Look at me and Sasha.” Sharna rested her hands on his thighs.

Val swallowed and then continued, “Regardless,that reasoning is not why I’ve been in contact with her.”

Sharna nodded allowing him to continue.

“I- I’ve been talking to Kelly because she knows someone who has been doing me a favor.”

Sharna looked confused.

“She knows a Private Investigator that has been keeping tabs on Paul for me. So I know when he is coming and this way, ’m prepared to protect you.”

“Val-” Sharna said exasperatedly.

“I love you, Sharna. And not one thing can happen to you. Because- I- I don’t know if I’d be able to live without you.”

A tear escaped from Sharna’s eye. He wiped it away and continued speaking, “I’ve never ever in my life been this serious about someone before. And I’m sure that’s what scares Peta. Because she knows my track record and she knows my past, but I love you. And this time it’s different. I want you to know that.”

“I do, babe. I do.” She said through tears. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being you.”

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