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felixa2728 · 3 years

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Part 1/? Francois Cevert/Chloe

Helen is an angel

"I learned the song, Jackie," I came into the kitchen. Helen was sitting at the big round table and next to her was a man with big ice-blue eyes. He was incredibly handsome and my breath was taken away. "And this is my niece Chloe," Jackie introduced me and pointed at me. Those blue eyes hit me and, startled, I wanted to lean on the kitchen rail, but it seemed to have left its place and I fell into it. It must have looked funny because the man was laughing, not maliciously but genuinely amused. Helen jumped up and tried to help me up: "Are you OK Chlo?" I nodded, still a little dazed. "I'll give you a cold cloth," with a French accent, the man spoke to Jackie, a little worried, and jumped up. He handed it to me and continued to introduce himself with a very strong French accent: "I'm Francois." His eyes met mine again and our hands touched briefly. "Francois is staying for dinner! Maybe you can play him one of your piano pieces, he can play too." "Sure," I had barely listened but nodded eagerly. "Well then," Jackie pointed. I looked from his hand to him for a moment: "What? Oh, yes.Um the piano is in the living room." I set off and Francois followed me. "How old are you?" he eyed me as I walked. "Seventeen and you?", I opened the living room door and asked, "How do you know Jackie anyway?" "I'm going to ride in a team with him next year. And I'm 25," he replied as I sat down at the piano. I started the Moonlight Sonata and he asked, "Why are you staying with Jackie, so yes you are his niece..." "My mum died when I was born and my dad died in a race. Actually Helen is more involved in that than Jackie too. He's just better with boys," I interrupted him as my hands danced faster and faster over the keys. I didn't know whether he was amazed by the music or my story, but he didn't say anything more and his blue eyes seemed even bigger. "I tried to play this, but wow," so amazed at my music, he sat down next to me and waited for me to finish. He started to play Rondo alla Turca with his right hand. I grinned and took over the right while he started the left hand accompaniment. "You're the guy Jackie keeps talking about... because you drive in Formula 3," I remarked. Francois concentrated on the last part and just mumbled: "Maybe." When we finished the piece, he looked at me, nodded appreciatively and asked: "Not bad. What do you want to do later? Professionally, then." As I strummed the first notes of my favourite piece, claire de lune, I smiled: "You'll laugh at me, but I want to study engineering. "Why should I laugh? Because you're a woman?" he joined in. I shrugged and studied his eyes fixed on the piano. I lost myself for a moment and, ashamed, turned my attention back to the piano: "Claire de Lune is my favourite piece. "So I've heard. You play the other one very faithfully, but you're varying it now." No one had heard or noticed that yet, but it was true. "What about current songs?" he finished the last few moves. I shook my head: "Jackie doesn't like it when I play current songs. Francois shook his head. His fingers fumbled haphazardly for a moment, finding harmony in when a man loves a woman. I couldn't help but start singing. "Oh wow.", he stopped playing in amazement. "What?" "You sing beautifully?" he remarked with raised eyebrows. "And current songs go, too." He laughed in a way that was simply infectious. "And Jackie doesn't like it?" he shook his head in disbelief. Suddenly Paul came rushing in and called for dinner. Francois stood up and I followed him. "So you and Francois are going to tyrell next year? Can you give me a lift next week... I wanted to make some notes on the Chapman front spoilers," I dried the plates Jackie had just washed. Helen took Paul to bed with Francois. Jackie eyed me: "Have you been studying for your performance?" "Yes!" "Play it for me." I went to the piano and played Claire de lune. I didn't mess up once, but I didn't forget to play my variation. "And you want to come next week? You can't play the piece properly!", Jackie began to grumble angrily. I tried to explain that it was

only a variation, but gave up unsuccessfully. With "Yes, Jackie good night" I disappeared into my room and slammed the door behind me and locked it. There was a knock at the door. "I'm tired," I said loudly. But I saw the door knob slide up and turn slightly to the left twice. Helen was the only one who knew this trick and I sat up straight candles. My suspicions came true and Helen entered followed by Francois: "Someone here wanted to say goodbye to you! She smiled and went back into the hall. Francois looked at my walls covered with pictures of cars and pointed at them. I explained: "Helen drew my ideas and the ones I can't draw. He grinned and continued to inspect the works. Francois had unbuttoned the first button of his light blue shirt, rolled up his sleeves and was casually wearing a leather jacket in his left hand. I got up from my bed. "Don't you think your shirt doesn't match your eyes?" I eyed his outfit. He looked at me in confusion: "Oh, the lady wants to know something about fashion now too? For the first time since we started talking, I was afraid I'd said something wrong, so I added shyly, embarrassed: "I noticed it all the time, I'm sorry. "Okay, if you say so," he just laughed and began to unbutton his shirt theatrically. I was taught manners, so I turned away from him with my arms crossed. "Don't you want to see my torso?" he played a slightly hurt undertone. I realised he was playing with me and asked him straight out, "Why are you playing with me?" "you know? I think you're really nice and it was mega cool to play the piano with you," I heard him take a step towards me. "I'm looking forward to seeing you more often now. And I know you're smiling right now." He touched my shoulder briefly with his hand and I turned around. Now with his leather jacket on and closed, he waved goodbye. "See you Francois," I looked into his blue eyes one last time. He turned as he walked away: "Can you..." "Francois, you really have to go!" Jackie rushed over. I closed my eyes a little disappointedly and formed the words "I'm sorry" with my lips. Jackie hurried him out of my room and I was about to close my door when Helen came in. "Please take this with you Jackie..." "Nothing personal," I finished the sentence I'd been hearing from her for a year. I nodded and tried to suppress the sobbing that came up inside me. Helen sat down on the bed with me and put an arm around me. "Could it be that you have a little crush on Francois?" she raised her eyebrows. I looked at her amused and shook my head laughing: "Yeah, sure, he's cute and all, but come on, he's eight years older than me and can't play the Moonlight Sonata." "Your standards are..." she laughed and continued, "And you want to get married someday?" I looked at her and grinned, "Oh, you know, I wasn't really planning to." We both burst out laughing and hugged each other. "Helen pulled a very familiar blue shirt out from behind me, "Does François think differently?" I knew she wasn't serious, but I could see a little concern in her gaze. I told her about the thing with the inappropriate colour and how I had recognised very clearly that Francois was playing with me. Helen listened with interest and added: "When I took Paul to bed with him, he talked about you in a very positive way.""I see." "Is that all?" she asked. "What do you want to hear?" i asked as i took the shirt in my hands. "That I think it's wonderful that you, as an underage girl, seem to want to set me up with an eight year older super hot heartthrob french guy?" She pointed at herself with an expression of mock surprise. "I would never do anything like that." We both laughed and she clarified, "You know I'm only making fun of it to cheer you up and because I don't think you're seriously into him and if you are I'm sorry." "No, no, don't worry," I waved it off. She kissed me on the forehead and said, "Good night. I need to get some sleep." "Good night," I called after her as she walked out the door. I stood up for a moment, locked the door and fell onto the bed. Francois' shirt lay next to me and I

pulled it close. It smelled incredibly pleasant and attractive. With the shirt in my arms, thinking of François and his smell in my nose, I fell asleep.

#jackie stewart #francois cevert #fanfic #my english is terrible #Spotify

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nerdylittleshit · 6 years

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Thoughts about Spn 13x09

SPOILERS! SPOILERS! SPOILERS!

Trigger Warning: Mentions of suicide, self harm and depression

Soooooooooooooooooo… That was an episode with a lot of good moments, and a lot to think about. Seeing that this is the first part of a two-part episode I’m not sure I can give a final rating. It was a great episode on its own, but worked also as a set up for a new character, a new world and hopefully a spin-off, so I think we have to see how 13x10 will finish the story. But, as Bobo is the writer of both this and the next episode, I am very confident. It is really interesting to see each of the character that will be part of “Wayward Sisters” and their relationship to the supernatural, but also to the Winchesters. But first of all, let’s have a closer look to this episode.

Dream Girl

First of all, I liked Kaia. A lot. She fit perfectly into the theme of things that look like other things. When we first met her at the rehab centre we learned that she recently overdosed and she has huge scars on her writs. On the surface it looks like she tried to end her life, multiple times, and given her life story we can see why. But if you look deeper you learn that she only takes drugs because they keep her awake, because in her dreams she visits the “bad place”. And it also there where she got her scars from. And of course, as we later learn, her “bad place” isn’t the same Sam, Dean and Jack think of. If you only look on the facts, if you only know half of the story, because you leave out the world of the supernatural (either because you don’t know about it or don’t believe in it) you only get half of the story, which doesn’t resemble the truth. But I also like how Kaia’s character and her story might connect with people who do suffer from depression. Kaia’s “bad place” might be a literary place and her scars are visible, but she stands in for our own personal bad places and the scars not everyone can see.

One of the characters I am really excited for Kaia to interact with is Claire. I think the two of them might easily bond because it is clear they have a lot in common. They are both orphans, they both probably had their experience with foster families, we both first met them in some sort of reformatories. Both are strongheaded and take nobody’s shit. Kaia’s belief that nobody would come for her/care about her when the angels kidnapped her is something Claire would have believed a couple of years ago as well. (The irony of course is that Claire, even though she is not rich, is very blonde and very white). And they both had rather unpleasant experiences with the Winchesters when they first met them.

Claire first lost her father to Cas and later had to witness how Dean killed Randy. She saw Dean in his worst state and thought of him as a monster. Kaia was held at gunpoint to do what Dean wanted her to. (And yes, they saved her life, but she doesn’t owe them anything) It is a great contrast to Alice/Smash last week, who was also convinced that nobody looked out for her apart from herself, and yet the Winchesters saved her, and prioritized her life over the spell they wanted. They became her heroes. But that is not the impression Kaia got of them and Jack (though I wonder what Jack showed her in his five seconds).

It is going to be interesting to see all these teenage girls (and adult women) interact with each other, each of them with different experiences towards the supernatural and Sam and Dean. Kaia and Patience will need to learn to control their powers (which is also an obvious parallel to Jack) and I wonder if we are going to see another psychic and dreamwalker to teach them. Especially Patience is going to be an interesting character, because she is not wayward, not in the way Claire, Alex and Kaia are/were. Patience has a home, a loving father, and a bright future ahead of her. Which reminds me a lot of Kevin, but unlike him who always thought of the supernatural as a burden she chooses this life. What her father said – “You go now, you choose that life, you don’t come back” – is also a parallel to John, who told Sam he can’t come back if he chose Stanford (the same life Patience gives up for now). The difference of course is that Patience is still welcome home, but her father knows that she won’t come back. If anything I feel like this will be a source of conflict, Patience giving up her stable life, when girls like Alex, Claire and Kaia always dreamed to have this.

Cocaine boy

I’m sad we already dubbed Jack as Nougat Winchester (well Lizzy did, we just follow her lead) because cocaine boy would have worked great as well. (Seriously though, cocaine? Did he binge watched Narcos or what?) Also, things that look like other things, part two. Sam and Dean think he killed Derek (accident or not) and that he is looking for Lucifer. The reality though is that Jack appalled that Sam and Dean could even think he did killed someone (on purpose) and that he is looking for their mom, not his father. And look, we all got fluffy feelings when he called Sam, Dean and Cas his family, when he said he said his home is here on earth with them, when he identifies himself with these two humans and the one angel heaven no longer sees as one rather than the actual angels and heaven. I get, I’ve been there. But we need to talk about Jack.

Because Jack’s aggressive behaviour towards Kaia? Not ok. As Dean said, good thing she hit him. And this is probably the reason some people believe Jack has controlled/influenced Dean, because him forcing Kaia with his gun in the car resembles this first encounter. I get where people see the similarities, and I’m not saying it can’t be true. But I admit it was not my first thought when I watched the episode, but something I briefly saw on my dash this morning. I’ve seen people admitting that Dean acted OOC to them in that scene, which is why they believe Jack controlled him. But even though I wanted to hit Dean very hard in that moment I don’t think it is entirely out of character. I do believe it is something Dean is capable of doing, if he is desperate enough, and I think he was. He blames himself for Mary’s current situation because he didn’t look for her, so now he tries everything to fix it. I don’t think Dean would have actually hurt Kaia, but what he did is still very much not okay, and I wonder how it might influence Jack, who looks up to Dean. Does Jack believe that what Dean did was right? That sometimes the end justifies the means? (Which has always been more Sam’s way of thinking than Dean’s)

I still wonder though what Jack thinks of Lucifer. Here he said he means nothing to him. In 13x02 though we saw how he remembered how Lucifer reached out to him and he seemed to be afraid. We know that Jack’s trust in Cas is based on Kelly’s trust in Cas. So did Kelly’s fear of Lucifer influenced Jack to be afraid of him as well? So far Jack has learned that everyone who is afraid of him based his fear on the fact that he is Lucifer’s son. Lucifer represents everything bad to him, so I am really curious about their first meeting.

We end the episode with Jack meeting Mary, which already gives me a lot of feels (the kid clearly has enough dads, it is time for a mom). And Sam and Dean in Jurrasic Park. This is a thing now (I need all the memes).

Some other things

- The whole episode had a cinematic feeling to it. The whole boat scene was beautifully shot (I guess they like ships).

- This is the second time we are told that angels can recreate on their own. Unlike humans or demons and even a lot of monsters. I wonder if this flaw in their design was on purpose.

This episode left us with a lot to discuss during the winter hiatus and I’m looking forward to read all your thoughts =)

#supernatural #spn 13x09 #the bad place #spn meta #spoilers #my meta

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kohakuhime · 7 years

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The Reluctant Guardian, Ch. 3

This part is longer than usual to make up for me missing last Sunday. Thanks for your patience, and special thanks to Puzzle for contributing part of this update!

Takes place post series. Michael, Isabel, Mikomi, Kazuo, and Carmon belong to @mpuzzlegirl; Rowen, Sylvie, the twins, Risa, Darien and Alana belong to me; and YGO and its associated characters belong to Kazuki Takahashi.

+++++++++++++++++++

A day passes and Darien Monroe is completely overwhelmed.

They get the call from the local police and immediately are in the car. It’s a four hour drive from their home to Domino, but they make it in record time. Darien won’t allow himself to think of the ramifications of what’s happened, not yet. Alana is sobbing into her hands the first half of the drive, and though her tears subside eventually there’s no denying the tremble in her lips and shoulders as she grieves for her daughter. He can’t take his hand off the wheel, not with his left hand so badly affected from nerve damage, but God he wishes he could at least take his wife’s hand.

His chance to grieve will come later. For now, what remains of his daughter’s family takes priority. Among other concerns, there’s the matter of the estate and the execution of the will. There’s also going to have to be the process of gaining custody of his grandchildren. There isn’t any question in his mind about taking custody, and he feels another stab of pain—if there was anyone else who could step in for Rowen and Sylvie, they would have already heard about it.

There’s also the matter of…but no, he won’t consider burials. Not yet. Not until he knows more.

They arrive at the house around noon. Darien steps into the house and almost immediately Sylvie barrels into his knees. Normally Sylvie is a shy friendly presence. Now, however, his young granddaughter is nearly frantic, seeking comfort and demanding answers.

“Grampa, where’s Mama? Where’s Papan? The TV said they’re dead, and Mister Policeman said they’re dead, and Rowen won’t tell me, and I want Mama and Papan!” she wails.

Rowen follows after her from the family room, slightly stumbling. Darien can see the boy got no sleep—deep, dark shadows frame glassy eyes and his hair is tousled, clothing rumpled.

“Hey Grandma, Grampa.” His voice is distant, monotone filled with quiet horror. His eyes shift to Sylvie and something in his gaze shifts and softens. “Sylvie, lamb,” he says, and there’s the faintest amount of warmth. It’s apparent Rowen is using everything he has to summon that voice, but he’s trying for the sake of his sister. “They just got here, they don’t know where Papan or Mama are.”

Sylvie turns to him, eyes filled with tears.

“Don’t worry, kidlet,” he continues soothingly. “Everyone’s looking for them. We’ll…find them.”

The little girl sniffles and rubs her eyes. “You aren’t looking, though.”

Rowen spasms for the briefest of seconds, face twisting. The expression is gone as suddenly as it’s come. “Can’t, kidlet, remember?” he asks softly. “Papan’s rule. When they aren’t home and you’re alone, I have to stay with you. Now that Grandma and Grampa are here, though, I can—“

And Sylvie’s face suddenly crumples and she runs, seizing Rowen’s wrist in her hands. “No! No, Rowen, no! Don’t go!” she cries. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please don’t go!”

There’s that wounded expression on her older brother’s face again. “Sylvie, you don’t have to apologize. It’s okay, I’m—”

“NO!” She shakes her head, tears falling. Her voice rises into another wail. “Rowen, please don’t go! You’ll leave and then you won’t come back, just like Papan and Mama!”

Rowen actually flinches at that, his face crumpling and something close to raw pain flashing across his features. He releases a shaky sigh and pulls his hand free of his sister’s desperate grip. He bends, gently tugging Sylvie into a hug. The little girl has always been small for her age and it’s never been more apparent than in this moment. “Okay. Okay, lamb,” he says, his voice a tired exhale. “I won’t leave.”

He looks to his grandparents, then rises and takes Sylvie’s hand. “C’mon, kidlet,” he says gently. “Let’s make some cookies. Grandma can help us too, how about it?”

His grandson’s eyes are on Alana and they can see the quiet plea in his tired gaze. Alana offers a half-hearted smile as she ushers them into the kitchen. It’s just as much for her as it is for the kids, anything to take her mind away from the eerie silence of the house.

As Alana gets the children started on the cookies, Darien puts in a call to the police for progress. There’s been no report of bodies being found so far, but Darien doesn’t keep his hopes up. The river is angry and swollen, and it will be so for days according to the news. The chances of finding his daughter and his son-in-law are slim to none. Still, there’s a small part of him that’s praying hard for a miracle—with no bodies found so far, he can’t help but hold out hope.

He has a suspicion that Rowen is also banking on this hope. While he’s on the phone with the police, Rowen steps out ever so briefly from the kitchen and overhears the mention of funerals.

Rowen is already talking even as Darien is hanging up. Stiff, ramrod posture, flashing brown eyes, and clenched fists are markers of his indignant and borderline helpless fury. “I’m not visiting empty graves!” the boy snarls in a low voice, eyes overbright and fiery. His angry voice carries a tremor in it. “My dad has nothing but empty graves for his family and I’ll be damned if I have the same!”

Darien sighs and sets the phone down back in the cradle. “Rowen—“

“I already am having enough trouble explaining our parents are gone. I’m having even more trouble trying to find an opening to talk about who else we’ve lost too. I can’t tell her that she’ll be visiting a literal empty hole in the ground on top of everything else!”

Darien does not have to ask who Rowen is referring to. It’s the reason his voice is as low as it is.

“It’s only been a day. I know there’s not a chance, I know it, but…I can’t! No, you show me my parent’s bodies first and then I’ll believe it!” Rowen’s voice climbs, a fragile and plaintive tone coloring his words.

The boy is slightly taller than Darien, and yet in that moment he can’t remember a time when his grandson looked so small. He crosses the room in three steps and pulls his grandson into a hug using his good arm. “Rowen, it’s all right,” he murmurs gently. “I’m not doing anything until I know more, okay?”

Rowen slumps into the embrace, arms hanging at his side. He doesn’t say anything further, and Darien does not expect him to talk.

There aren’t any words that will comfort Rowen now.

+++++++++++++++++++

A week passes and Mai is more tired than she has ever been in her life.

The twins are not coping. They don’t even last a day in school before they have to be pulled out. Sora and Claire alternate between an almost zombie-like state of shock and violent, burning anger; the principal tells Mai that they had not even been there an hour before the teachers had to break up seven different fist fights.

And that’s just counting the instances Sora’s involved. Claire’s got more, Mai just doesn’t want to know.

She can’t blame them or even begin to imagine what they’re going through. In the space of a day they’ve lost everything. There’s no home for them to return to. The twins don’t even have graves to visit, nor any bodies to bury. Just dental records and ashes, that’s all the twins have of their parents, and it’s the start of the grim reality that they’re trapped in now.

Mai isn’t very close to Raphael or Alister, and she’s an only child just like her daughter. But she adored her sister-in-law and Valon turned out to be one of her closer friends, and their deaths have torn a huge hole in her heart. Mai’s glad that Tristan had gotten them a punching bag for Christmas one year, because when the kids go to bed she punches it until she can’t see through her tears and her hands are swollen and bruised.

Their daughter is handling both the twins and the loss of her favorite aunt and uncle. It isn’t easy for Risa, not by a long stretch, but the twins take solace in Risa’s company and it at least evens out their behavior by the end of the week.

Joey, on the other hand, is not handling his sister’s death very well. The first night Joey retreats and throws almost everything in the room before he collapses and sobs for the rest of night. Yugi and his friends rally around Joey as much as he’ll allow them—Yugi comes over the moment he finds out and stays all day, a quiet comforting presence. He’s in a lot of pain and he’s angry at the police for not doing enough to find out what happened. Well, not doing enough to determine what happened in Joey’s eyes—their official take on the fire is that it originated in the kitchen due to a plastic bowl being left in the oven while it was on.

Both Mai and Joey have gut instinct, they know there’s more to this. Valon may have been a danger in the kitchen years ago, but mishaps involving cooking stopped when the twins were born. Serenity is never that careless. It doesn’t add up, no matter how they look at it, and their frustration at the inability to prove it only compounds the tense atmosphere.

The situation is not helped by Joey actively avoiding Sora and Claire. He only has to hear them before he’s up and out of the room. Risa tries her best to cover her father’s tracks and distracts the twins, but she doesn’t know why her father is avoiding them and Mai can’t understand either.

Mai hears them talking one day in the room set aside for them, their voices low and discouraged. She pauses, listening at the door, and her heart breaks when she hears a speculation from Claire. In fact, it’s what finally prompts her to corner Joey when he comes back in from the store. She drags Joey into their room later. “You want to tell me what’s going on?” she demands with a set jaw and thin lips.

Joey looks far too tired, eyes suspiciously red-rimmed. “What?” he asks dully.

She folds her arms over her chest and frowns. “Don’t play dumb with me, Joseph. You’re avoiding your sister’s kids.”

Joey doesn’t entirely meet her gaze. “I am?”

“Joseph.” Mai’s voice is severe. “I know you don’t like Valon. I know you’re angry and hurt about your sister, but they’re just children, Joey. Babies. You can’t just lash out at them for—“

“What?” This time Joey’s voice is concerned, and he finally meets her gaze with startled brown eyes. “What are you talking about? Valon’s not as bad as he used to b… and anyways, I certainly don’t hate the twins!”

“The way you’re acting, I’d be surprised if they didn’t think it because guess what? Whether you believe it or not, Sora and Claire think you do. I heard them talking, Joey,” she adds, voice softening when Joey’s face pales. “Hon, you won’t even stay in the same room with them when they enter it. They noticed, even as miserable as they are.”

Joey bites his lip, runs his hands through his hair, and then sags to the bed with his head hanging. “I don’t hate them,” he begins, his voice tired and miserable, “but I just…I can’t face them. I know, it sounds dumb, but…”

He trails off, staring at his hands. Mai bites the inside of her cheek to stop herself from speaking. She knows better than to push Joey right now, and so she waits.

At length, Joey takes a small breath and lets out a humorless laugh. “I heard them too. Not what you heard, somethin’ different,” he says quietly, looking up at her. Her breath catches at the helplessness in his eyes. “First night they were here. I’m too much like their dad, accordin’ to them. It’s…Sora and Claire look at me and all they see is a mirror image of Valon.”

“…Joey…”

He looks at his hands and heaves a sigh. A bitter smile twists his face, and he looks simultaneously far too old and impossibly young in that one moment. “I know avoiding them isn’t helping them and they’re kids, they need someone to turn to for comfort…I mean, Rowen ‘n’ Risa are working overtime as it is…but what am I supposed to do when it hurts them to even look at me?”

Mai doesn’t have an answer.

+++++++++++++++++++

Two weeks pass and Isabel fears for her nephew.

When he first arrives on That Day, Michael simply beelines straight for the guestroom without stopping. She finds him later, curled into an impossibly small ball near the headboard. Michael refuses to move from that spot for almost three days. He barely eats, he doesn’t sleep, and he doesn’t talk.

Were it not for her own family, Isabel would have been in a similar state.

The loss of her sister has cut very deeply. Just like Sora and Claire, she has nothing but ashes in an urn for her sister and brother-in-law. Noa stays with her that first week, taking up the slack in the chores and silently offering support. Isabel can’t honestly recall what had happened in the majority of that week. Her focus drifts between worry for Michael and grief for Carmon’s death, and the days blur together. It’s easier for her to lose her temper, easier for her to break down into tears, and her family rallies around her even as their own grief shines through.

It’s not even just her sister. She’s gotten close to Raphael, to Valon, and to their families over the years. The fact that she’s lost them all in the space of one day leaves a gaping wound in her heart and soul. She has so many questions, so many what-ifs, and not enough answers. She’s not stupid, there isn’t any way this is coincidence, but there’s nothing connecting the three events together outside of those involved. For all intents and purposes, the police feel that the accidents are just that—accidents.

Given their history, Noa’s never really been attached to Alister. Neither has his adopted brother, and in fact the only reason the three of them tolerate each other is for the sake of their children. But she can tell that, for Noa at the very least, Alister’s death has hurt him. After the first week, Noa spends most of his free time searching the security camera feeds in front of what once was the local charity headquarters and pores over the police files. Isabel isn’t sure about how he’s gotten access to the files (nor does she question it), but when Noa starts neglecting his own basic needs Isabel unplugs the computer.

Kazuo and Mikomi try their very best to take Michael out of the room. Get him out of the house, get him to do something, anything, outside of remaining curled up in bed. So far, the most success they have is getting him out only for him to curl at the end of the sofa instead. Mikomi hovers, Kazuo never leaves his cousin out of sight on the rare occasion Michael comes out, and Isabel knows that Rowen is calling and texting as frequently as he can without overwhelming Michael.

She at first wonders why Rowen or the twins aren’t there, given how close that side of the family is, but she gets her answer when Kazuo overhears her talking to his father. “I saw the texts, Mom,” he reports glumly. “Rowen’s asked about visiting, but Michael won’t let him. Told him he’d punch Rowen in the nose if he tried coming over. Same story for Claire and her brother.”

Isabel can’t say she’s too surprised. Michael handles his grief the way Alister does…did. Her nephew is bottling his emotions and holding everything in. As much as it hurts her to admit it, she has to let him grieve in his own way. And sure, Michael eventually comes out of his room when he’s called by the end of the first week.

But still he doesn’t speak. He still won’t eat more than a couple bites. He still won’t engage with anyone. Michael’s shut down and Isabel isn’t sure how to reach him.

It’s at the end of the second week, while Isabel is distributing laundry, when she hears her sister’s voice.

“Hi Honey, can you pull out some chicken for tonight’s dinner?”

Isabel halts in mid-motion, the laundry basket slipping from her suddenly limp fingers, and for one wild second she’s hopeful that her sister’s come back. But no, Isabel realizes with a crushing wave of disappointment, it’s a message being played on the speaker of a phone.

The sound is filtering in from the barely-open door to Michael’s room. She carefully pushes the door open and takes a small step forward.

Michael is curled on the bed with his back to the door. The lights turned off are turned off and sunlight filters in through the closed blinds. She can see him holding a phone in front of him. He’s listening to a recording, maybe even a voice mail.

“I’m going to be making your favorite, but your father and I are going to be a bit late getting home from the office. I love you lots and lots and we’ll see you later darling, do—“

Right before the message stops, Isabel sees Michael sit up frantically from where he’s curled on the bed as his hands fumble for the phone. His finger drags across the screen sharply.

“—home from the office. I love you lots and lots and we’ll see you—!”

He rewinds again. And again. And again.

The message is painfully brief, but Isabel realizes what he’s doing and feels tears stinging her eyes. Oh, Michael…

“—I love you lots and lots…I love you lots and lots—“

“I love you too, Mama.”

Isabel starts, the thin sounding and hoarse voice breaking the hushed silence of the room. She doesn’t have time to feel relief that Michael’s spoken for the first time since he’s been here. The red-haired boy’s pulled his knees to his chest and is sobbing harder than Isabel’s ever seen him.

She doesn’t even remember crossing the room, she’s already pulling Michael into her arms. He stiffens before trying to push her back and away from him. She doesn’t let him, holding him close. He stops fighting as he finally flings his arms around her and cries into her shoulder.

++++++++++++++++++++++

A month passes.

Sylvie finally reaches the stage where she isn’t screaming awake for her parents. She’s gotten better about Rowen leaving, but she doesn’t leave the window the entire time her older brother is gone. Sylvie is more subdued, more withdrawn, and she constantly carries the stuffed rabbit doll her mother made her. She hasn’t drawn anything since That Day.

To all outward appearances Rowen is back to normal. Those who are close to him know better. There’s a shadow in his eyes and a genuine smile is few and far in between, reserved for his little sister and his cousins when they visit. His grandson is only a semblance of his normal self, all of his efforts focused on comforting his family. He’s either visiting the twins, or he’s checking in with Michael, or he spends his days with Sylvie. Darien isn’t sure what Rowen feels about his parents at this point, but he is concerned Rowen is spreading himself too thin.

Joey and the twins finally get a chance to talk. Mai sincerely wishes it hadn’t been while Joey had been breaking up a fight between the twins and a local gang. They come home that afternoon covered in scrapes and bruises, but the three of them are on much better terms after that. Of course they’d settle things through fists, she thinks wryly. There’s the start of the familiar cheer that’s trademarked to Sora and Claire, and she can’t be entirely too mad about coming across fireworks in the house.

Michael starts talking again and he’s begun showing signs of his old self. He also starts allowing visitors at Isabel’s gentle insistence. The twins, Rowen, and Sylvie are on her doorstep within an hour of getting the call, all carrying flowers and small bags. Michael doesn’t even get a greeting out before his cousins instantly surround and hug him. That first time, the small group disappear for the afternoon and don’t return until nightfall. The bags are empty and the flowers are gone when they return—Isabel has a feeling she knows where they went.

They’re all starting to come to terms with what they’ve lost. It’s not easy, it’s slow, and there’s still far too painful reminders all around them, but it’s a start at least.

+++++++++++++++++++

In the same month, the lights in the sky at night grow stronger and become more prominent. The stars grow even fainter and harder to see.

And he sets foot in Domino for the first time in eighteen years.

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#kohaku writes #oc: rowen knighton #oc: sylvie knighton #oc: the twins #other's oc: michael #other's oc: isabel #oc: risa wheeler #au: reluctant guardian

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