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#but. no. hes going to the bar today. instead of the farmer’s market.
mothmanns · 1 year
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feeling v uncharitable towards my boyfriend today
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nice-bright-colors · 8 months
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Warning: Rant Dead Ahead
Move along if you don’t wish to read me complain. You’ve been warned.
————
So we went out to brunch today at our regular place, the all-vegan/ 80’s decor/ arcade/ bar in Olde Towne Arvada. So Radish is the name of the place.
1. Olde Towne was having a “Today Only” Farmer’s Market. So there were people, and families, and kids, and dogs, and kids on bikes. You get the picture.
2. So Radish had a DJ, which turns out only happens once a month…lucky us. DJ White Mike looked like he was part-time security at Target. The music was way too loud, and quite hypnotic. I was a sport, I could muscle through it…until…
3. How in the ever loving fuck does a place known for brunch, all plant based, makes everything from scratch…not have any Bloody Mary mix? Instead, somebody thought they could make it with tomatillos and cilantro.
4. The guy asked how it was, I didn’t lie. I told him I wasn’t a fan. He made me different drink, then proceeded to taste the green non-bloody mix from Hell. It was bad. The look on his face, and when the aftertaste hit him…he wasn’t happy.
5. His words: that is awful, we aren’t serving that. Then grabbed all the bottles of this stuff and brought them into the kitchen to be dumped.
6. Then the Wife™️ just had to go to the German bakery next door.
7. Then the Wife™️ asked if we could go to Penzy’s because she needed ground ginger.
8. Then of course we needed to stop at Natural Grocers…because of course we did.
9. Then she informed me the bananas were green at NG…so she was going to need to go to Target…for bananas and whole wheat wraps.
All I fucking wanted was some fucking brunch, with a fucking Bloody Mary.
And now half of the day is gone.
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maysoulrose · 1 year
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The Thief and The Moon chapter 12
skyrim Brynjolf x my dark elf oc fanfic
Things are getting DEEP.
———————-chapter 12————————-
Morning came, and Brynjolf woke up on the floor, where he had made his bed.  His body ached from the hard surface. Looking over at Allustria, she was in the exact same position he had left her in. 
He got up, groaned, and stretched. Rubbing his neck muscles and popping his back. He smiled at the woman in front of him. Remembering her beauty and silliness of the night before. Wondering what she would remember. Deciding to let her sleep off the hangover she’d most likely have, he headed to the market. Thinking he could snoop around town and see what this place has to offer. 
He made his way to the Gildergreen and spotted the Companion’s hall. Not quite his kind of crowd. His eyes trail up the mountainous stairway, leading to the jarls castle. He thought it better to keep out of there as well. Instead he decided to wander through the living quarters. 
Scanning the area, Brynjolf smiled upon finding the Hall of the Dead.
“Found you~” he kneels next to a patch of deep purple flowers with thin, triangular petals, and a yellow stamen.
Brynjolf spent his time alone prepping for the journey back. He gathered food and a set of camping supplies. Soon, he returned to their room to pack up their things, so it would all be ready once Allustria was awake. Filling a tankard of water, he dropped the flower stems inside, and set it on the nightstand next to the bed, along with a cup of water for her to drink. His ears perked when he overheard someone talking through the balcony doorway.
“Yeah, a cold wind is blowing in from the east. Seems like they’re getting a snowstorm out there. Gotta dress warm!” The farmer says. 
Brynjolf sighs. He didn’t want to have to stay another night. Thinking of Allustria, who always seems to be underdressed, he heads out once again, in hopes of finding a couple of cloaks to wear. 
—————————————
Allustria wakes and bolts up, looking for Brynjolf.
“Oh, bad idea—“ She found a bucket next to the bed and hurled last night’s contents into it. After spitting out the taste, she attempted to look around again, squinting her eyes from the light.  Her expression softens when she spots the nightshade flowers next to her. She smiled to herself, knowing Brynjolf had picked them for her. She brought them closer so she could inspect them.  
Last night’s events were pretty foggy, but she did remember entering the tavern with her new dress and having the intent of putting on a show. Looking around the room, she was able to put together that they at least slept separately, so perhaps her attempts at wooing the man hadn’t worked. It’s for the best though, what’s the point of having fun with someone and not being able to remember it the next morning? Although… she did notice that her corset had been loosened. But everything else was as it was, so perhaps he just wanted her to be able to breathe while she slept. Very considerate of him. 
Everything was packed up, so she pocketed the flowers, slung her pack onto her back, and carried his bag down to the bar. 
“Did you happen to see where my friend went?” She asked Hulda, who offered her a fresh cup of tea and breakfast. 
“Who, that handsome fella? Heard him talkin’ to one of the farmers about the storm that’s a brewin’, then he headed to the market.” 
"He is handsome, isn't he?" Allustria giggled.
Once Allustria was finished eating, she headed out to look for him. It was noticeably colder today, and she hated herself for selling her fur armor to get this sexy little dress. But still, it covered more than her leather armor would, so the dress she wore. 
“Ah! You’re awake. Here, put this on.” Brynjolf appeared behind her and swirled a cloak over her shoulders.  “We better get going if we want to beat this storm. I have everything we need, so let’s go!” He took his pack from her, dressed in a cloak himself, and headed for the city gates. 
Allustria’s heart was beating noticeably faster as soon as she saw the man. She felt embarrassed for some reason. She tried to remember if she did anything worthy of feeling like that, but couldn’t seem to remember anything past arriving mid party, and sitting on his lap. Her blush deepened… oh yeah. 
There was a hefty wind blowing in from the mountains. The empty fields made it more apparent. With no trees to break it, the wind just about knocked them over! They hurried to Shadowmere, who seemed happy to see them. Capes billowing this way and that, Allustria tucked her head down, pinning her hair to her chest to avoid a horrible tangled mess. 
“Maybe…. You should drive…” Allustria suggested, still feeling a little dizzy from last night. Brynjolf nodded and took the front half of the saddle. He helped her up onto the back and gave Shadowmere a light kick to begin their journey.
Allustria seemed to just keep finding things to feel more and more flustered about. The saddle was on the bigger side, but still not made for two. The way her groin was sliding towards Brynjolf's hips was quite the thing to stir up her imagination. Also, the fact that he was in this seat last time made her head spin. What he must've been thinking… 
An icy wind blows Allustria back to reality and she wraps her arms around him for stability. Burrowing her hooded face in his back.
The three of them cross the bridge and follow the road that hugs the river. As soon as they reach the mountain range, it begins to snow. Lightly at first, then falling down hard in large white clumps. 
“If this keeps up, we’ll need to find shelter!” Brynjolf yells so Allustria can hear him over the wind and river. They kept going until the path was barely visible. 
“There’s a cave up ahead I think. I remember seeing it before the tower.” Allustria points in the direction. 
They pass the bandit tower that they cleared out the day before, and follow the sloping path. Shadowmere hesitated and slowed his pace to prevent slipping. They passed the raging waterfall and Allustria pointed out the cave she remembered. 
 They found a clearing in the terrain to cross the river. The water was surprisingly shallow and a small bank with trees growing from it sat in the center. Crossing it, and back into the water, Brynjolf and Allustria dismounted once they reached the other side.
Allustria tried to pull Shadowmere into the cave with them, but he wouldn’t have it. So instead she told him to hide in the shadows, and wait for them until the storm passed. 
In the cave and out of the cold, they head through the tight tunnel and make it to an opening. There are bedrolls splattered with bones and blood. They glance at each other, and continue onward, weapons at the ready. Smashed tables and wooden structures decorate the cave floor. They continue through another tunnel and emerge into an even bigger opening,  full of pines, a small pond, and a beautiful waterfall at the far end of the cave. Skulls and assorted bones scattered across the cave floor, and finally the stench hit them.
“Trolls.” Brynjolf concluded. “I hate trolls.” Allustria nodded in agreement. 
“I need to start carrying a bow. I don’t know how many I could take with just a couple of daggers.” 
“I don’t want to find out.” He said, lightly placing his fingers on her shoulder, turning her around to head back instead of fight.
They found a spot near the entrance, deciding to stay by the bed rolls they passed earlier. That way they can make a quick escape if they’re ever spotted. 
Avoiding the bloodied beds, Allustria sat, wrapping herself up in her dark gray cloak. She leaned against the damp wall, thumping the back of her head against it. 
“How long do you think this storm will last?” She asked. Brynjolf sat a foot or so away from her.
“I don’t know. Hopefully not long.” 
It was quiet. They tried to ignore the smell of dried blood and foul odors that oozed from the cave. 
“Thank you for the flowers.” Allustria said, remembering them just now. Brynjolf smiled.
“Don’t mention it.” 
Allustria started to shiver from the cold rock pressing against her back. She scooted forward, trying to find a comfortable spot, but failing.
“Here,” Brynjolf opened up his matching cloak and she eagerly crawled inside. She lay between his knees, wrapped up in the fabric, hood up, and leaned against his chest. He closed his arms around her and she felt an immediate relief from his heat radiating off of him. Both happy to be sharing each other's warmth.  Sitting in comfortable silence, keeping an ear out for danger, they both rest and save their energy while not quite falling asleep. 
While they waited, Allustria tried her best to remember last night. Flashes of moments from her dancing and falling into the lap of a man flickered through her mind like a fading dream. She remembered checking to see Brynjolf’s reaction from his seat at the bar. His eyes glued to her, but not of jealousy. More like he was enjoying the show. When someone had caressed her thigh, she honestly thought about cutting off those little fingers, but then saw Brynjolf lick his lips, setting her loins aflame, So she let it slide as part of the performance. That seemed to be as far as her memory would let her traverse. 
She let the sounds of his breathing distract her. A mindless finger traced the stitching in his leather armor. Wondering what he might be thinking about now. 
——————————————————————
An hour or so passed. Brynjolf decided to go out and check the weather’s progress. Allustria reluctantly left her spot on his chest and let him go. He was only gone a moment before returning to her to give her an update.
“It’s letting up a little. I bet the snow will stop in another hour or so.” 
“Good. I want to get out of here.” 
Brynjolf sat across from her. Thinking of what to talk about to pass the time.
“Do you… remember last night?” He asked. 
“Not really,” She sighed. “Why? Did I do something embarrassing?” 
“No, not at all,” Brynjolf laughed. “You were the center of attention, alright, with your beautiful dancing.” Taking note that she didn’t remember asking him to kiss her.
“Oh~ I’m glad you enjoyed it.” She smiled. 
“I did… Quite a bit actually…” Allustria blushed at his sincere remark. 
She looked around the cave, getting bored, and decided to wander around. Peeking around boulders and things to see if the previous campers left anything interesting. 
“Uuughh, I just wish we were home already. I hate being cold.” 
“Don’t forget the hot springs on the way!” Brynjolf reminded her. She jumped back into his view, a fresh look of excitement on her face
“Oh yeah!” The cloak still tightly wrapped around her, she eagerly waddled back to him. He laughed at her silly nature.
“Let’s go check the weather again!” She grabbed her stuff and headed down the tunnel. 
“Already?!” Brynjolf had to hurry and catch up to her. 
It was still lightly snowing, but the visibility was clear. 
“Come on! It looks clear enough now, let’s go!” She waited for Brynjolf’s approval before calling for Shadowmere. He nodded, so she whistled and waited for the horse to emerge from his shadowy sleep.  
The two of them get on and cross the river once again. Following the road, until coming to a fork and checking the sign. They decide to take the high road, passing a Stormcloak fort. Arriving at a bridge, they break off the path and cross the river. It was still snowing lightly, but they felt a slight warmth in the breeze from the hot springs ahead. Finally they had arrived! Heading past a few pools, they found a nice spot with large flat rocks to set up a small camp.
They unloaded their packs. Brynjolf had enough supplies to set two tents, as well as some firewood. Once the tents were up, they made a small campfire between them. Allustria happily dropped to her knees in front of it, holding her hands above the flames. 
By the time they had gotten the camp up, the snow had stopped and the sun was lowering into the horizon. Brynjolf took both of their cloaks and hung them up to dry. Along with his armor, he sat with Allustria at the fire in his white cotton shirt and brown pants. 
Once the sun had set, and they properly warmed up, Allustria looked to the steaming pools around her.
“Ready for a swim?” She gives him a raised eyebrow. 
“Of course. But First, I gotta take a piss.” He jumps to his feet, “Go on ahead.” And trudges into the forest to find a bush to relieve himself on. 
She watches him disappear and slips out of her clothing, keeping it by the fire to stay toasty. Allustria dips her toes in to check the temperature, and steps in. Sighing at the perfect temperature, She wades further out to a deeper area and enjoys the warmth, fully submerging herself. 
——————————————-
Brynjolf hears rustling a few paces away. He leans to look. A small fox wanders by, and high tails it in the opposite direction when it sees him standing there. He tucks himself back in his pants and buttons up. Shoving branches away as he makes his way back through the forestry. He emerges and sees their tents a little bit further than he was expecting. He must've gotten a bit turned around. He spots Allustria’s clothes hanging with her cloak, but no Allustria. 
 While scanning the area, a shadow under the water catches his eye, at the far end of the pool. Allustria's moonlit hair emerges from the water. She's facing away from him, scrubbing her scalp and squeezing water out of her hair.
By the Gods, she was naked. He takes cover behind a bush to assess the situation. The clouds had parted and moonlight reflected off of her wet hair. It lit her curves in just the right way. He leans forward to get a better look and his foot presses down on a stick, snapping it. He ducks just before Allustria turns toward his direction. He holds his breath and shuts his eyes, trying to decide if it was okay to spy on her like this… she knew he'd be back soon, right? He waits a moment, before taking his chances at looking up again.  He sets his eyes back to where he last saw her, but she’s gone.
“You’re going to have to do better than that, to sneak up on me~” Allustria’s lips brush against the tip of his ear. Her breath on his cheek sends a chill down his spine. 
Brynjolf’s heart jumps up into his throat. “You, Lass… are terrifying.” He says once again, deciding that he liked it. He turns toward her to see her sly smile.
“You have no idea~” she almost purrs 
That remark causes him to turn a bit red. Her hair is slicked back, but draped over her shoulders and down her chest, censoring her from his view.
“Now… do me a favor… take off your clothes..” She leans in, his heart is pounding now, cheeks flushed. He’s captured in the glow of her eyes. Her soft lashes flutter as she blinks slowly. Enticing him in with her slightly parted lips. She places a hand on his shoulder, tracing her fingers on the soft cotton. “And take.. “ she pressed her palm firmly against him “A bath!”
            With one giant shove, Allustria uses an arm and her bare toes against his back to push him into the spring water!
She’s cackling over his surprise. Brynjolf splashes and gasps for air. Once he gets his footing on the slippery mineral coated floor, he swipes his ginger hair out of his eyes, leans forward to catch his breath, and looks at the devil who almost drowned him. 
“Oh you’re going to get it now, Lass.” he’s bearing his teeth, with a slight smirk. She’s standing at the edge of the small ledge she sent him flying over, laughing to the stars. She has a fur blanket clutched to her chest, covering about half her body, while her long moonlit hair covers the rest. 
Brynjolf jumps forward, water splashes everywhere, and yanks at the pelt. She about chokes on her own fit of giggles when realizing she’s going to plummet into the water as well. She spreads her arms out, wildly, to try and catch herself, but just lands chest first right into the man.
They both struggle to break the water surface. Allustria’s hair is plastered over her eyes. She peels it away, revealing a scowl, but then snorts and a smile goes with it. Brynjolf is letting himself float back now and splashes her. 
“Fine, I’ll take a bath. Now that we’re even…”
Allustria raises an eyebrow “um, you’re the one who tried to catch a sneaky perv” She lifts her chin, catching the moonlight on her face. “I get a freebie since you pulled me in~”
He narrows his eyes at her. She’s still somehow totally covered by her damnable hair.  
“Fine.  I’ll take a bath. “ he repeats himself, ignoring her threat. Brynjolf wades over to their camp site. Sloshing out like a waterlogged sack of potatoes. 
Allustria swims through the shallow water, following him. She peeks over the edge of the pool to watch him undress.
The spring water reflects the moons and stars beautifully, making it just bright enough to see. Brynjolf kicks off his waterlogged boots, and peels off the soaked white shirt that was clinging to him, showing off his strong back. Allustria twists her toes together in anticipation. He loosens the ties around his waist. She can see the curves of his lower back disappear into his leather pants. He pauses for a moment, holding his hands on the top hem of his trousers, but stops. 
Fully aware he’s being meticulously watched, he decides to leave his pants on for his bath, just to frustrate her. He smiles to himself, hearing Allustria’s quiet huff of disappointment. She silently slips away into the depths, like a snake. 
Brynjolf wades into the water and finds a nice place to relax in before beginning to bathe. 
The two of them finish cleaning themselves as best they can. They leave a larger than necessary gap between the two of them. Maybe taking a few glances to check if the other is still there.  Brynjolf splashes his face one more time and wipes down his arms. He looks back and sees that Allustria has already made her way into the tents.The fur blanket in hand and her long hair covering her backside. 
She hangs the fur blanket over by the fire to dry overnight then ducks into her tent.   Brynjolf floats in the warm water for a while, letting it soak to his bones. 
Deciding he's finished as well, Brynjolf wades over to the camp. He peels off his pants, regretting his decision to bathe with them on, and sets them by the rest of his armor, which was already almost dry from the flames.  He wraps himself up in his wool cloak and finds a seat by the fire pit. 
Allsutria comes out of her tent and is braiding her long hair. Her torso wrapped in a thin white fabric with a heart shaped chestline. It's twisted around and tied at the side, making an asymmetric shape. The bottom of the material swoops along her right thigh, then comes up the side of her left leg. Just begging to be touched.
He can feel himself begin to throb below the blanket. He shifts in his seat to adjust his growing member into a more comfortable spot. Something he’s gotten quite used to, these past few days…
Allustria joins him by the fire, sitting across from him. She finishes her hair into two long braids, then spins a couple of fish that she had stuck by the fire to cook, making sure they get evenly toasted. Her arm presses against her chest as she leans to one side, causing her breasts to be pushed together.
'She must know what she's doing to me..' Brynjolf drinks in her beautiful body. The light from the fire reflected onto her, showing every curve. 
“Looks like the food is done.” She says, grabbing one of the pierced fish and handing it to him.  He accepts. She sits rather close to him.  He can see a clear view of her cleavage now. The light from the fire washed over her beautiful skin. They eat in silence. Brynjolf keeps his eyes on every move she makes. 
"Do you like what you see?" Her voice was low and smooth. It pierces the silence between them. A blush burning in her cheeks, feeling his eyes on her.
“Yes I do, as a matter of fact… That sweet roll looks rather appetizing.” 
She gives him a mischievous look. Setting her meal down, she gets on her hands and knees and crawls to the dessert.  Brynjolf freezes, he can’t look away. The curve of her hips, barely covered in the white fabric, was almost too much for him. He licked his lips. They’re little game of teasing each other was making him ache for her. He felt himself throbbing beneath the cloak. Wanting so badly to feel her body against his. To kiss every inch over and over again. To hear her moan with the pleasure he brought her. 
Allustria grabs the sweet roll but refrains from bringing it back to him. She jumps up and runs to the other side of the fire.
“If you want it, Come and get it~”
Brynjolf felt like she was using the sweetroll as a metaphor for herself.
“Gladly…” He jumps up and chases after her. She spins and dodges, always just nearly out of reach.  She hides behind the tent, and baits him into one way, then scampers off into the opposite direction. He was only able to catch her when she nearly lost her balance, swinging her arms to avoid falling back into the spring water. He ensnares her within his cloak, but she slips between his fingers, and crawls out before he can trap her. 
“How are you so fast?!” He laughs and runs after her again.
Finally, he lunges and knocks her over onto her back. He pins her arms above her head, and grabs the sweetroll, taking a large bite out of it. Smiling at his win. His cloak dropped to his sides, showing his bare chest. His legs on either side of her, successfully trapping her beneath him 
Allustria’s heartbeat quickens. He was just gorgeous.  Not to mention learning that being pinned down by him was quite the turn on. She breathed heavily from their little game of tag, and scanned her eyes all around him. The flickering light of the firepit, illuminating his alluring body. She felt her heart crawling into her throat, face flushing with heat. 
The way he looked at her made her arms weak, not allowing her to even attempt an escape. He smiled down at her. Placing the sweetroll back on its plate. He puts his hand against the ground next to her head, scanning her beautiful face. He lowers his body, inching closer to hers. Half lidded eyes full of lust. 
"Careful, or I might bite you~" She whispers.
"I'm fully aware of the risks…" he replies, in a more serious tone than she was expecting. Her cheeks deepen in color. Brynjolf’s eyes make it obvious how serious he is about the situation. 
He slowly inches closer, both hearts pounding, he pauses nearly centimeters from her lips. She hesitates, but then tilts her chin up ever so slightly and meets him into a kiss. He exhales and melts into her, relieved of her acceptance. A soft moan escaped her lips, exciting him more. He takes in her bottom lip, sucking on it and gently pulling with his teeth. He feels her smile. His heart pounds faster and his arms start to shake slightly. Allustria lifts her head, pushing more aggressively. She delicately touches his upper lip with her tongue, wanting to go further. He accepts and parts his lips, letting her in. His breath hitched and moaned. Their tongues meet and softly trace each other. She drags her tongue against his upper lip. 
Brynjolf squeezes her arms, still pinning them above her head. He lowers his hips and barely touches his hardened member against her abdomen. A sharp hiss escapes her lips, and she pushes her pelvis into him, showing her approval of his arousal. They break for air and stare into each other’s eyes, making sure they were both okay with where this was heading. She smiles at him, almost out of breath. Brynjolf returns the smile and lightly brushes a loose hair away from her cheek. 
Releasing her arms, he places his hands on either side of her face, and pulls her into another waterfall of kisses. Sucking and licking her sweet lips, tasting her, feeling her in a way he’s dreamt for so long. 
Allustria uses her now free arms, and traces her fingernails down his chest. He pushes against her, letting her fingertips explore his abs and down to the waistband of his undergarments.  His body shudders to her touch, feeling incredibly sensitive and a bit ticklish. She giggles, and kisses him more. He moans and presses his engorged cock against her with more force than before. She nips at his lip in return. Her warm hands feeling his body, brushing her palms against his back muscles, feeling the slight change in texture where his few scars are. She lowers her hands down to his hips, digging her fingers underneath his underwear, sliding down and grabbing his cheeks. 
Brynjolf pulls back to look into her eyes once again. 
“Do you want me?” He asks. Her face was full of pleasure. 
She nodded, sheepishly. 
“Say it.” He demanded. She blushes.
“…I want you…” She whispers.
“Louder” Brynjolf pushes the tip of his cock against her, between her legs. She squeaks and bites her lip, eyebrows knitted together.
“I want you.” She obeys. “I want you to make me scream with pleasure.” She persuades. 
Brynjolf hungrily crashes his lips to hers once again. She loops her fingers around his waistband and pushes the fabric off of him, sliding it down his strong thighs. One leg out, then the other. The cloak slipped off his backside, exposing him to the elements. 
His kisses trail across her cheek, down her neck, nipping at her collar bone, and down her swelled chest, finding the thin fabric that covered her.  She slips her fingers between his teeth and the covering. He looks up, wondering why she stopped him.
“Shall we take this to the tent?”
chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4 | chapter 5 | chapter 6 | chapter 7 | chapter 8 | chapter 9 | chapter 10 | chapter 11 | chapter 12
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snowdice · 2 years
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Finding the Time to Study Fic 2 [Day 131]
Here is my starting post for today’s study break stories session. I will reblog this post with the story as I write them today. Feel free to send in asks about anything at any point, even if it’s not for the part of the story I’m currently on.
If you aren’t interested and don’t want all of these posts clogging your dash, please feel free to block the tag “study break stories” as all posts and voting about it will go there. You can still see the finished product of the story even if you are blocking that tag as I will not tag the edited chapters with “study break stories” but with the tag “folds in paper.”
See the Folds in Time Universe Master Post for edited chapters. Not yet edited chapters are under the cut. I also have a playlist on youtube for this story.
Already started late, so idk how long I’ll go.
Chapter 46
           Virgil was correct in his ability to find the location he’d crashed landed at. It was impressive honestly. Logan knew how different the farmers market looked like compared to the same location every other day of the week. The main road had been opened and the stage where musical performances took place had been removed. However, Virgil was able to retrace his steps rather easily.
           “I ended up under the stage,” Virgil informed Logan. “It’s been taken down now, but you can see where it was based on the grass.” He pointed to where the grass had been flattened and then walked around the indent a bit. “I was in the back,” he said, looking towards where the sidewalk was with a contemplative look, “so it would have been almost exactly here.” He tapped his foot on the spot.
           Anticipating this part of their excursion, Logan had packed some of his tools before leaving this morning. He pulled out one of his modified iPads.
           “You hide your time travel tech as an iPad?” Virgil asked, curiously.
           Logan spared him a glance, but said nothing.
           “…You made your time travel tech out of an iPad?!”
           “It is one of the most easily accessible technologies of this time that is also portable,” Logan said with a shrug, booting it up. “I use what I can get.”
           “How on Earth did you manage to invent time travel with 21st century technology?” Virgil asked, peeking over his shoulder.
           “Well, it took me a couple of decades,” Logan replied.
           “It took everyone else literal centuries,” Virgil said dryly.
           “Well, I knew time travel was possible already, so I simply made it happen.”
           “You’re terrifying,” Virgil stated.
           Logan just hummed and set the iPad scrolling through his diagnostic programs. In a few moments, it would come back with any readings time travel related.
           Virgil watched the device intently, though Logan doubted he had any understanding about what the different things scrolling past meant.
           It gave a soft beep when it was done.
 Chapter 47
The museum was interesting, not because it taught him any more about the events behind the exhibits on display, but more that learning what people in the 21st century cared about and how they presented past events was an anthropological lesson in its own right. Their conversation became a game of not only finding the mistakes made in the exhibits, but also Virgil hypothesizing why those mistakes were made: prejudice, missing information, and unreliable secondary sources all contributed, and Virgil spent a lot of time talking through the possibilities.
They spent a few hours there before heading back to Logan’s apartment.
 Not without stopping at a small, hole in the wall, bar inhabited only by day drinkers. When Virgil gave Logan a weird look, he explained, “I have to bring back a peace offering for running off this morning if I want Patton to agree to a time travel mission for me.”
“…And Patton likes… vodka?” he guessed.
“No,” Logan replied, amused. “This establishment serves cheeseburgers which are apparently the ‘best in the city.’ They do not, however, cook anything else. Not even fries.”
When Logan handed him an unlabeled brown paper bag that looked as though it had been dipped in hot oil instead of just it’s contents, Virgil shot him a raised eyebrow. “Ah, yes,” he said, “the quintessential 21st century American meal.”
 “You once ate only bagged pepperoni meant for pizzas for breakfast for a week once.”
“I told you that in confidence,” Virgil said, smacking him lightly with the bag of grease.
“And I have told no one,” Logan responded. “Therefore, I have not violated any part of our agreement.”
“You’re making fun of me. That’s definitely a part of the agreement,” Virgil said.
“I don’t remember there being any clause like that in our verbal contract,” Logan replied with a slight smirk. Virgil rolled his eyes. “Besides, I’m not truly making fun of you. The decision to fuel your body solely with pepperoni is, while not the best strategy and one that would certainly prove detrimental in the long run, it is better to eat that then nothing.”
 “Oh,” Virgil said. “Uh, good.”
“I’m simply citing another example where not as healthy food in the long term can be good in the short term.”
“But in this case instead of depression eating to stay alive, the purpose is bribery.”
“Exactly,” Logan said. “Bribery to end the time distortion and get you back to the proper time.”
“Alright, fair enough.”
“You don’t have to eat any if you don’t want to.”
“Oh, no, I’m going to.”
“Then why are you complaining?” Logan asked amused.
“I just thought you should know your time has way too greasy food,” Virgil said.
 “Thank you for the information,” Logan said dryly. They’d made it back to the apartment by then, and Logan stuffed the bag he was carrying under his arm to unlock the door.
“And where have the two of you been?” Patton asked when they walked into the kitchen.
“I have cheeseburgers for you,” was how Logan answered.
Patton rolled his eyes as Logan set the bag down in front of him. He was sitting at the kitchen table typing on a laptop. “The French toast wasn’t that bad,” he said.
“I will take your word for it,” Logan said pleasantly.
 Patton just shook his head and reached into the bag for a cheeseburger. Logan kept looking at him, and that obviously meant something Virgil didn’t know, because Patton glanced up at him after eating a couple of bites. “What?” he asked suspiciously.
“Virgil and I went back to where he arrived,” Logan said. “There are signs that one of the devices that cause time distortions is present.”
“There aren’t any weather disturbances though,” Patton pointed out.
“It seems to be a more advanced version,” Logan answered. “Which will make much more difficult to track.”
“Okay,” Patton said, “then what are we going to do?”
 “Well,” Logan said, “if we could get our hands on an older version, we could probably use it to narrow down the current one’s location.”
“And how exactly are we going to get an older version?” Patton asked, eyebrow raised.
“I understand that you have only been back from your last trip for a little over a week and that your last trip through time was a bit difficult, but,” he nodded towards Virgil, “we do know of the time and place one exists that you would have a good chance of being able to find, deactivate, and bring home.”
 Patton groaned. “And judging by the source of this information, steal off of the TPI.”
“Yes.”
“Excellent.”
“At least, in this case, you will go into it knowing there will be no major disasters.”
Should Virgil… say something. It’d be rude not to mention the whole time shredding almost drowning bullshit, wouldn’t it? Then again… giving him foreknowledge could be a danger to the timestream. He debated with himself whether general social courtesy should outrank the possible destruction of time or not.
Maybe he’d just suggest a boat if they didn’t plan to take one? Just in case?
 “Fine,” Patton said, “but you’re finishing your tech updates and making me a survival pack before I make any jump. I’m not making the same mistake again.”
Logan nodded. “I can do that,” he agreed. “Just tell me what you want in your survival pack.”
“I’ve already been working on a list,” Patton said. “I’ll email it to you.” He turned back to the computer he’d been working on and typed a few things. “You can add to it if you think of anything.”
Logan looked at his phone as it dinged. “…Do you really need all of this?”
“Yes,” Patton said, taking another bite of his cheeseburger.
“…I’ll do my best?”
“You’ll do it,” Patton returned.
“Right.”
“I’ll start researching Cuba in the 1700’s,” he said.
Virgil saw him pull up google on his computer. He looked at the 21st century computer and then back to Patton. He couldn’t help but think of the museum he and Logan had been to earlier that day. “Do you want help?”
 Chapter 48
It took a little over two weeks to get everything set up. Logan had already been in the process of updating their equipment for quite some time, and this situation only spurned him on. He also then had to figure out a way to meet all of Patton’s demands for his new survival kit. His list had already been quite long before he’d started to add to it. He’d even slipped in a request for a boat at some point despite Logan’s protests that Camaguey Cuba was nowhere near the sea.
Thankfully, Virgil didn’t seem to mind the delays too much.
 In fact, he may have had a hand in the delays as his natural inclination towards anxiety seemed to infect Patton and cause him to add and add to his list of safeguards for Logan to make. He and Patton were spending a good amount of time together, actually. Patton was fairly good at researching the places he planned to go at this point, but Virgil was undeniably more experienced with that sort of thing considering he worked with the TPI. Patton seemed to appreciate his input.
Roman, on the other hand, decidedly did not. The two of them were prone to arguments about clothing which had gone beyond talking about Cuban clothing to arguments about clothing from pretty much all of time.
 Logan could not tell if they were friendly debates or not. He’d even asked Patton who had claimed he also could not tell. Neither Roman nor Virgil’s responses when asked directly about the nature of their relationship were helpful either. Logan did notice that Roman changed the fabric of the outfit he made for Patton after one of their conversations.
Virgil was not much help to Logan unless you counted the intel, he’d given that helped Logan choose the correct time and place. At least, not in the sense that he was able to help with the mathematics and physics Logan was dealing with.
 He was, however, good for company. Especially as his sleep schedule much more closely resembled Logan’s own in those weeks. Typically Roman and Patton went to sleep at a much earlier hour than he did himself and Logan would work alone in the living room, but with Virgil living in the apartment, there was constant companionship while he worked, and less volatile company than he was used to working with (assuming, of course, Roman had gone to sleep by that time). It was nice.
He seemed to fit into their little group in a way Logan had not anticipated. Or at least, socially he did. Physically, there were simply not enough beds and Logan had been sleeping on the couch for two weeks.
 Eventually, with all of their combined efforts, everything was ready to go. Patton had three different time appropriate outfits, a good amount of knowledge about the festivities he was about to attend, new time travel equipment, and a survival pack that could help him survive an apocalypse. Patton was planning to arrive in Cuba two days earlier than the TPI protocol would send agents like Janus. That way, he would have time to set up and get acclimated before the TPI sent in their surveillance and touchdown agents.
“This is cool,” Patton said, flexing his fingers to see the hidden screen on his palms light up with a map of the area.
 “It’s organized the same as your previous device, except for, of course, the control panel to control the cloaking technology and the access to the survival kit.
“Looks great, Lo,” Patton said, still fiddling with it. He changed it to its default state of a metal band projecting the screen and then back to the time appropriate bracelet Roman had designed. There weren’t many possibilities programed for hiding the device yet, but more could be designed in the future. For now, it only had the default band, the bracelet, and a wristwatch.
“I’ve already tested it a good number of times, but you should familiarize yourself with it anyway before leaving.”
 Patton nodded, flicked his fingers and disappeared for a moment before reappearing in the same place. Then, he did it again and reappeared directly next to where he’d been standing. He did similar things a few times before predictably getting bored and starting to do ‘tricks’ which mostly involved landing in ridiculous poses and also accidently jump scaring everyone in the apartment at least twice. Eventually, Logan confiscated it for the evening so they could have dinner in peace.
Patton went to bed early, planning on leaving the next day. Roman quickly retired to his room shortly after leaving Logan and Virgil alone in the living room.
 Despite knowing already his calculations were perfect, Logan still sat on the couch checking over them one more time just to make sure. Virgil sat on the floor with his back against the couch watching videos on Logan’s cell phone with headphones borrowed from Patton’s collection.
He glanced up when Logan shifted positions and Logan flashed him a smile.
Virgil removed the headphones to speak. “Thanks by the way,” he said, “I already said it to Patton and will again in the morning, but thanks for helping me out with all of this.”
“It wouldn’t have been particularly kind of us to leave you stranded,” Logan pointed out.
 “Yeah, but still, you’ve all been working really hard. Right now you’re up at 3am working on it.”
Logan shrugged. “I’d likely be up working at 3am on something anyway,” he said.
“Sure,” Virgil said, “but this time it’s for me so, yeah, thanks.”
“You’re welcome then,” Logan said. “Any time.”
Virgil tilted his head back to grin at him. “Was that a time travel pun.”
Logan scowled. “No.”
“It sounded like a time travel pun.”
“It was not intentional. I will never intentionally say a pun.”
“You’re telling me you live with Patton and never make puns?” Virgil asked.
 “I, unlike my roommates, am a responsible adult,” Logan insisted.
Virgil seemed skeptical. “Is that why you’re drinking forbidden coffee out of an orange juice carton at 3am.”
“Not so loud,” he hissed, leaning forward to put Virgil’s mouth and glancing back towards the hallway to see if anyone was about to come storming into the living room with another intervention.
His hand was bit.
“Ow!” Logan exclaimed, taking his hand back. “How do you know?” he hissed. The ruse had been working on Roman and Patton for years because neither liked orange juice.
Virgil rolled his eyes. “I can smell it,” he said. “I’m not dumb.”
 “It’s worked on everyone else.”
“No,” Virgil said. “It’s worked on one dramatic idiot and one man who trusts people not to lie to him way too much. I, however, am a paranoid asshole with a doctorate. You can’t fool me.”
Logan couldn’t help but smiled. “I suppose I have met my match,” he said.
He tilted his head all the way back, so his skull rested on the couch cushion and he was staring straight up at Logan with his piercing hazel eyes. “Heck yeah you have,” Virgil said, and Logan was not much more sentimentality, especially not romantic sentimentality, but there was something about the shadows making the room seem cozier and the almost golden glint in his eyes from the lit lamp beside Logan that made it more difficult to breath.
68261
He was relaxed here in Logan’s apartment at 3 in the morning, looking up at him with warm eyes. He fit, slotting into place with an ease Logan had not expect. He’d found Professor Virgil Eran interesting from the moment he’d first heard him speak and had glanced through his university profile for information on whoever had plugged his virus into their computer. He had found him endearing when they’d corresponded through emails and occasionally one sided video chats. It was different with him right in front of Logan, within arm’s reach. He could reach down barely a few inches and brush his slightly unruly hair out of his eyes.
 “You good man?” Virgil asked.
“I am perfectly well,” Logan said, clearing his throat. He glanced away from Virgil. “I think perhaps my roommates have a bit of a point when it comes to caffeine.”
“Maybe at 3am,” Virgil said in good humor. “You’re not a college kid.”
Logan glanced at the college professor on his living room floor. “Well, thank goodness for that,” he mumbled
“I think your calculations are fine anyway,” Virgil said, gently taking the papers out of his grip. “Why don’t we do something else?”
“Like sleep?” Logan asked.
“You think you’ll be sleeping anytime soon?” Virgil inquired with a raised eyebrow.
“Fair point.”
Virgil grabbed the television remote from side table. “Why don’t we watch a bit of that time inappropriate copy of the Epithet File I know you have.”
“Sure,” Logan agreed. “You can come onto the couch if you would like.”
“Nah. You can come to the floor.”
“…Fine.”
 Chapter 49
Patton left in the morning and from there it was just a waiting game. Which, was Virgil’s least favorite type of game. He tried to keep his anxiety on the down low considering it was Logan and Roman’s lifelong friend who was running around some other century, and they were both obviously nervous as well, since the last trip had ended in disaster.
This trip was going to end in disaster a little bit too, but Virgil was going to ignore that. At least he wouldn’t be gone for months.
The point was, Roman was constantly going to the gym which was, reportedly not normal behavior and Logan spent his days re-checking calculations that were too late to correct and had worked considering Patton had been in contact occasionally.
 Yet, despite the fact that he was clearly an anxious wreck as well, Logan eventually forced himself to put his lined notebook paper away for a bit. Roman was out once again when he did so and Virgil was doom scrolling on his phone.
“We should go out to dinner,” he declared suddenly.
Virgil glanced at the pile of take-out containers stacked near the kitchen trashcan. “Sure,” he agreed.
Which was why Virgil was leaving the apartment for the first time in the last three or so days. Logan had asked him if he wanted anything in particular, but he didn’t care and also didn’t know what restaurants were around, so he was just letting Logan lead him wherever he wanted.
 He should not have trusted him.
He glared at Logan, but the man only seemed entertained by his ire. “Really?” Virgil asked.
“I wanted to see for myself if you were really that bad with chopsticks.”
“I’m not,” Virgil said, crossing his arms. “It was just the anxiety about the social situation, and I resent this.”
Logan just laughed, knowing well enough that Virgil wasn’t actually irritated. Honestly, he felt fonder than anything that Logan had chosen to take him here. “It’s actually pretty good sushi.”
“21st century American Midwest sushi,” Virgil drawled. “I’m simply quivering with anticipation for that authenticity.”
 “It’s unanimously considered the best sushi in town by my friend group,” Logan said as if the fact that Mr. Asiago Cheese Bread For French Toast and Mr. Went Along With Cooking Asiago Cheese Bread French Toast approved of the restaurant would inspire any confidence in Virgil. If he could even call the place a ‘restaurant.’
“It’s. In. A. Mall.”
“So?” Logan asked.
“It’s a sushi stand in a mall. There isn’t even seating.”
“There is seating,” Logan argued nodding at the five chairs sitting in front of the counter. The seating was completely empty which could be because their eating schedule was off and they were eating dinner at 3pm, but more likely meant everyone else in the time had more sense than the man in front of him.
 “Where is your sense of adventure for trying new things?” Logan asked. “Are you not an anthropologist. Don’t you want to experience the culture of the time first hand.”
Virgil glared at him.
“Please try it,” Logan said sill amused. “It really is good.”
“If I get food poisoning, I’m blaming you,” he warned.
“Noted,” Logan said, inclining his head. Then, Virgil reluctantly allowed him to lead him over to the sushi stand from where they’d been hiding behind a trash can so as not to be in the direct line of sight of the man standing behind the counter.
 The man greeted them as they approached. He obviously recognized Logan and even asked about Patton and Roman as they took a seat. Virgil did have to admit, despite his instinctual misgivings about mall sushi, what he could glimpse of his set up seemed legit. It looked like a real sushi bar if a bit smaller than usual. Where they had sat, there was a glass case in front of them with chilled fish on display and Virgil could see a large rice cooker behind the man along with a normal refrigerator.
Laminated menus were handed to them. They were only one page front and back, but honestly that was probably a good thing. If it had a bunch of complicated or fancy stuff, Virgil might have been worried.
 Well, he was still worried, but he wasn’t running screaming. At least his setup looked like it probably wouldn’t give him too much food poisoning. Logan suggested a rainbow and a snake roll and they got some different types of nigiri.
The chef was nice, and he assembled the sushi fully in Virgil’s view which made him a whole lot less leery about the meal. He seemed to know what he was doing at least. Of course, the fish was not as fresh as it would have been in a coastal area, but it was clearly properly handled. When he was finished, he handed it to them all on one big plate.
 He had to admit, when correcting for ingredient availability, it was actually pretty good sushi. He would not say it was the best sushi he’d ever had, but it was worlds better than he’d expected. Logan could obviously tell what his opinion was and was overly smug about it.
“Yeah, yeah,” Virgil said when they were finished. “You’re good at picking restaurants.”
“I’m sure you are also when in a place you are familiar with.”
“I’m not actually,” Virgil said with a laugh. “I always panic choose the worst option.”
“Well, I tend to be quite decisive about such things,” Logan said. “I guess we make a good match.”
 “Yeah,” Virgil said. “Uh, what are we going to do when we get home? Because sitting there drowning in anxiety like we have been for the past couple of days isn’t the greatest.”
“Do you have anything in mind?”
“You guys have Blockbuster still?”
“No,” Logan said. He paused. “We do have a Family Video store I think.”
“Is it close? Let’s go there.”
“And why are we not just using a streaming service?” Logan asked. “Or using my… library of movies.”
Virgil shrugged. “It’s the charm of it,” he said.
“The charm of a business already made obsolete and on the brink of collapse?”
 “Exactly,” said Virgil with a smile.
“Very well,” Logan said. “If that is what you’d like to do I will look up its location on my phone.”
They were in a building that would look abandoned if there wasn’t a light on inside within 15 minutes. The video rental store had clearly seen better days. Its carpet’s pattern was clearly from another decade and had been trampled over so often it was basically like walking on the linoleum beneath. There was a door on the sign asking patrons to close it behind them because the spring used to close it had long since ceased working.
 There was only one person working, a guy in his 30s who glanced at them briefly and then went back to looking at his phone. Ah, yes, Virgil’s favorite type of employee.
“What movie would you like to watch?” Logan asked. He glanced at one small, but still surprisingly present section filled with DVDs.
“I don’t know,” Virgil said. “Isn’t that the point? Stop by a movie rental place on a Friday night, grab a more than likely crappy movie and some Milk Duds and proceed to sit and watch the stupid thing anyway because you already paid for it.”
 “Virgil, I grew up in the 90s. This isn’t exactly exciting for me. There is a reason streaming sites took over the market,” Logan replied. “Also, it is Tuesday.”
Virgil rolled his eyes. “Just panic choose a movie with me, nerd.”
“I don’t ‘panic choose’ anything,” Logan said. “I-”
“You do today,” Virgil interrupted.
“I…”
“Choose a letter.”
“…S?”
“Great!” Virgil dragged him off in the direction of the movies that started with ‘S’.
 “This is just… gross,” Virgil said a little under an hour and a half later and about an hour into the film.”
“It is a random romantic comedy from 2002,” Logan responded. “What did you expect?”
 “Yeah, but there’s weird sex jokes and actors that are probably from Mars and then there’s actual on screen physical abuse between the romantic couple.”
“I will concede that point,” Logan said, “but I will remind that this could have all been avoided if you had allowed me to do proper investigation of the movie choices before renting it.”
“Ugh, yeah, yeah,” Vigil replied, leaning back to stare at the ceiling. “Just turn it off.”
Logan complied, reaching over to eject the DVD from his computer. The three roommates didn’t actually have a DVD player connected to their TV, so they’d chosen to use the desktop computer in Logan’s room.
 Virgil was laying on Logan’s bed with Logan sat propped up against the headboard. Logan leaned over to peer down at him. “Thanks for helping distract me,” he said. “Despite the fact that we now know more about what we’re doing, I still get worried about sending Patton through time. His last time travel experience didn’t improve my confidence. I have been… rather nervous.”
“Well, I’m glad I could help, at least a little,” Virgil replied.
“You did,” Logan replied. “A lot.” His hand reached down to touch pat his shoulder, but then lingered there for a moment too long.
 Virgil sat up suddenly and Logan had to jerk back to keep their heads from colliding. “I…” Virgil choked out once he was sitting up. “Um…”
Logan’s mouth curled into a half smile. He offered a hand and Virgil took it.
Virgil glanced at the hand. “I, uh, I am an anthropologist.”
“I am aware,” Logan said with a raised eyebrow.
“And, uh, you were born in this time, so technically I’m studying you…”
“I’m a time traveler, Virgil,” he said amused. “I doubt I am a pure specimen for any studies you may be doing.”
“Right,” Virgil said. “That’s a good point. You’re right.”
70210
There was a pause. “So then,” Virgil said. “No moral quandaries. Just two people sharing a bed and watching a romance movie.”
“It was a bad one.”
“It really, really was,” Virgil said with a grin and then Logan was leaning forward and Virgil’s hand was on Logan’s shoulder.
And then the door was flinging open. “I’m home!” Roman declared as Virgil scrambled back, banging his head on the bed’s headboard.
“Fuck,” Virgil hissed.
“Roman! You need to knock!”
“Since when?” Roman asked, plopping down on Logan’s bed between them.
“Since we have a guest,” Logan said meaningfully. Virgil hid his reddening face in his hands, curling into as tight of a ball as he could.
“You were both in here, it’s not like one of you were naked,” Roman said flippantly. Virgil debated the merits of staying curled up in a ball for the rest of his life. There was a second of silence, and Virgil was glad he couldn’t see the expressions on their faces from his ball when Roman said, “Oh my god!”
 Chapter 50
The breakfast table was silent the next morning. Though if one could call it a breakfast table when Logan was only drinking a cup of tea, Roman was chewing on a slice of unbuttered, untoasted bread, and Virgil was still either asleep or avoiding them both in Logan’s bedroom was debatable.
“…Look,” Roman said.
“We aren’t talking about it.”
“How was I supposed to know the two of you were getting it on?! Put a sock on the door next time or something. It’s common courtesy!”
“We weren’t having sex,” Logan hissed. Roman opened his mouth. “Shut up and learn to knock,” Logan said, pointing his spoon at him threateningly.
 Yet, still, because it was Roman, the other man opened his mouth again. Luckily, before he could say anything else on the matter, there was a loud crack from the living room.
“I’m going to need a towel please!” Patton called.
“I’ve got it,” Roman said instantly, jumping to his feet, leaving Logan to walk to the living room.
“Why are you wet?” Logan asked immediately upon taking in the sight of his roommate. He was soaked, water dripping from his form like he’d just gotten out of a pool seconds before.
“There was an ocean in the church,” Patton said.
 “What?” Logan asked.
Patton pushed his sopping wet hair out of his eyes. “The time distortions were a lot more intense than ones we’ve seen before,” he said. He held out a small innocuous appearing device whose only mechanism appeared to be a switch to him. “Be really careful with that. It’s unstable and we might have damaged it getting out.” Patton winced and removed his timepiece. “Actually, speaking of that. This might need a checkup too.”
“Were there issues with the tech?” Logan asked taking both devices in his hand.
“…No,” Patton said looking a bit sheepish. “We just… may have turned off all of the safety protocols.”
 “Patton I just made this for you!” Logan said, horrified.
“And you did a really good job!” was Patton’s reply, “but we didn’t really want to drown in a church.”
Logan took a slow breath. “I’ll make sure it wasn’t damaged,” he said.
“Thanks, Lo!”
Roman entered the living room then, bright blue towel in hand. “I have returned bearing gifts!” he declared.
“My hero,” Patton said with a laugh, taking the towel and using it to wipe off his face and then start to dry his hair.
“So, an ocean in a church?” Logan asked.
Patton nodded. “I’ll have to thank Virgil for suggesting the inflatable raft.”
 He paused as he finished running the towel through his hair and started to dab at his clothing. “I saw Remus,” he said.
Roman froze. “You did?”
“Uh huh,” Patton replied. “He was with Janus. I didn’t think I should say anything to him since that trip was way out of sync though, sorry.”
“Yeah, no, that make sense. That’s fine.” Roman hesitated. “How was he?”
“He seemed good,” Patton said. He flashed them a smile. “Happy. He’s quite the character actually. He and Janus seem like they’re good friends.”
“Oh,” Roman said. “That’s… that’s good.”
Patton’s face screwed up slightly. “He did flirt with me though, so that was weird.”
 “He what?!” Roman practically screeched.
“It wasn’t particularly innocent flirting either,” Patton said, grimacing.
Roman took a moment to think about it before pulling a face that one would expect to see on a small child trying a lemon for the first time. “That’s disgusting! That’s like… that’s like my brother flirting with my brother. Gross!”
“It was… it was weird,” Patton said.
“What did he even say?” Roman asked.
“Mostly it was comments on my…” he made a motion with his head that apparently Roman could interpret.
“He talked about your butt!”
“…Well, he didn’t exactly use that word.”
 “That sounds about like Remus,” Virgil said, poking his head into the hall.
“Oh, you’ve finally decided to join the land of the living, Emo?” Roman asked.
“Shut up,” both Logan and Virgil said at the same time.
Of course, he did not. “You know, Pat-pat, speaking of posteriors…”
“One more word out of you and I will actually kill you,” Virgil threatened.
“Um, what’s going on?” Patton asked.
“I’ll tell you later,” Roman promised.
“You will not,” Logan said. “Keep your gossiping tendencies under control.”
“Okay, but now I want to know,” Patton said with a pout.
“You go take a shower,” Logan ordered.
 Patton shared a look with Roman that told Logan there was no way he wouldn’t have the whole story along with a good number of embellishments by the end of the night. Then he shrugged. “Yes, boss,” he said. Logan rolled his eyes as he turned towards the bathroom, the towel still on his shoulders. He was dry enough that he wasn’t dripping anymore, and he slipped off his waterlogged shoes and socks so he wouldn’t track water to the bathroom.
“Put that in the biohazard hamper,” Logan called after him.
“I know!” he called back.
“And you,” Logan said to Roman, “clean up all of the water he got on the carpet in the off chance there are any pathogens in it.”
 “Why do I have to do it?!”
“Because you’ve annoyed me,” Logan said, “and I need to insure these two devices do not explode.”
“Ugh, fiiiine,” Roman said, dipping back into the hall.
Virgil glanced over at him, the picture of awkwardness. “Uh,” he said. “Hey.”
“Hi,” Logan said.
“…Are those things really at risk of exploding right now?” he asked.
Logan glanced at him. “Technically they are always at least slightly at risk of exploding, but admittedly the chance is further from 0 than I would like it to be at this point.”
“Great,” Virgil said. “One more thing to be anxious about.”
 “You don’t need to be anxious about it, Virgil,” Logan said.
“Uh, I think I do need to be anxious about the maybe bomb in your hands.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I know,” Virgil said with a sigh.
“We are two mutually consenting adults. There isn’t any shame to it.”
“Can we please talk about our very embarrassingly interrupted kiss after you’ve dealt with the explosives?”
“Very well,” Logan said. He walked to the other side of the room to grab a statis chamber from a cabinet drawer.
“What’s that?” Virgil asked as the cube shaped device popped up.
 “It’s a stasis cube,” Logan said as he put the two devices in his hand into it and activated. “It will allow them to cool down completely from their earlier use in a safe environment. It will be less dangerous to work with them later.”
“If it just takes 5 seconds to deal with them, why are you making Roman clean up?” Virgil asked amused.
“Like I said,” Logan said. “He annoyed me. Speaking of,” he glanced into the hallway where Roman currently was. “How do you feel about leaving before he gets back to get coffee.”
Virgil smiled at him. “Sure,” he said. “Escape the apartment for coffee part two.”
 Chapter 51
It took a few days after Patton got home for Logan to first make sure the timepiece and the distortion device were not at a risk of exploding and then to study the distortion device.
“It’s similar to what little we’ve seen of TPI technology,” Logan had mused, sitting on the couch while studying the information he’d managed to get off of it. “It’s definitely derived from the same technology unlike my time travel device, but it looks a bit different, and this version at least is rather shoddily made. Of course, creating disorder and almost ripping apart time is easier than seamlessly moving through it.”
 “So, they’re probably from my time then?” Virgil asked.
“Most likely,” Logan agreed. “Though it could always be a Remus situation where they were from another time originally but accidently ended up in the TPI time. Either way, the origin of their purposeful time travel was certainly around your time.”
Virgil glanced at the device he’d set on the table in front of them all. It looked innocent sitting there, but it had the power to destroy so much, and they didn’t even know why. “Do you think whoever made this trapped me here on purpose?” Virgil asked.
“It would be a big coincidence if you in particular got trapped in this time in particular,” Roman said.
 “I was thinking the same thing actually,” Logan said. “You do work with the TPI and with Janus, a time agent who both often is caught in the middle of devices similar to this being used and who runs into Patton frequently. Plus you know Remus, Roman’s brother even if we didn’t know that connection before you were trapped here and we already had a correspondence before you landed here. It would be strange for you to have ended up here on accident.”
“But why?” Virgil asked. “I am somehow connected to all of you, but I’m still not a time agent myself.”
 “All I am to the TPI is a walking history book. I’m not actually involved.”
“Well,” Logan said. “Perhaps someone knows something we don’t.”
“Or maybe it’s just a happy accident!” Patton said. Virgil highly doubted that and it made anxiety churn in his gut.
“Well,” Logan said, “accident or not, we do now have a solution to the issue. I’ve managed to use this device to recalibrate my calculations and we’ve gotten a ping. I know where the signal blocking Virgil’s time device is coming from.”
“Where?” Roman asked.
“It looks like a local trash dump,” Logan replied. “It must have just ended up in a trashcan that day and was emptied before we checked.”
 “Well, that should be easy enough to get,” Patton said. “Give Roman and I the exact coordinates and we can go and get it now.”
“Wait, why are we the only ones who have to dig through a garbage dump?” Roman asked.
Patton gave him a look.
“Oh,” Roman said, eyes lighting up. “Oh right!” Then, he scowled remembering he was going to be going through a garbage dump. “Fine,” he sighed.
“Think of it as an adventure!” Patton said.
“We’re time travelers. We have so many more exciting adventuring opportunities than dumpster diving, Pat-Pat,” he whined, but he still got up. “I’ll go get changed.”
 Patton stood up and handed Logan his phone, so Logan could program the location of the distortion device into it while he changed as well. “We’ll text you when we’re heading back! I’ll give you a 15- and 5-minute warning,” Patton said with a wink. Virgil immediately hid his face in his hands.
“Do you think the TPI is hiring?” Logan asked as the door closed. “I’d love to move to a different century without those two.”
“Time agents don’t usually live in 4500s,” Virgil said, face still hidden behind his hands. “They’d probably still place you in this century, especially since you’re comfortable here.”
“No escaping them then,” Logan sighed.
 “Mmm,” was Virgil’s response.
He felt Logan shift on the couch next to him and a warm palm touched his wrist, gently tugging his hand away from his face in a way that Virgil could resist if he really wanted. Virgil let the hand fall with a sigh. Logan smiled at him when he could see his face and Virgil smiled back despite how he could still feel heat in his cheeks.
“You will be going home this evening, I’d imagine,” Logan said.
“Yeah,” Virgil agreed softly.
“I would like to give you a gift before you go, if you’ll allow it.”
 “Uh, okay,” Virgil agreed.
Logan nodded and leaned back to grab something out of the pocket of a jacket that was currently hanging over the side of the couch. “Ah,” he said when he found whatever he was looking for. He glanced at Virgil. “It is a ring, by the way, but this is not a proposal.”
“Well, I’d certainly hope not,” said Virgil dryly. “An impulse elopement would be a little off brand for us both.”
Logan smiled at him. “Very true,” he agreed. Then, he opened his palm revealing a small ring.
“So, then, what is it?” Virgil asked.
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“It is an emergency time travel device,” Logan explained. “It’s not particularly complex. It can only take you here to this room between 2 weeks and one year from now, but if you ever need something from me, you can use it.”
He offered the ring and Virgil opened his palm to let him put it in his hand. He studied the ring for a moment. It was a rose gold and very light.
“It also has some security measures,” Logan said. “It wouldn’t do to make an emergency time travel device that someone else might easily try to take from you. It’ll disappear when you put it on. You’ll still be able to feel it and take it off whenever you wish. It’ll become visible again if you take it off.”
 “An invisible ring?” Virgil asked, curious.
“Yes,” Logan said with a smile. “It is designed to store your space time coordinates for up to 48 hours just so you’re aware, but as I said you can take it off whenever you wish and… I won’t use it against you.”
Virgil looked at him. “Okay,” he said. “Can I put it on?” Logan nodded, and Virgil slipped it on his finger. As promised it disappeared from view as soon as he did. He could still feel the weight of it on his finger though.
“You turn it three times counterclockwise to activate it,” Logan said, making Virgil look up from the seemingly empty space on his finger he’d been staring at.
  “It would drop you right about where you are sitting.”
“Thanks,” Virgil said. It wasn’t nearly enough to say how much he appreciated the gift, but he hoped his tone said enough.
“Don’t use it against me?” Logan asked with a half-smile, and Virgil realized just how much trust was being put onto him by giving him a device that was directly linked to their base of operations despite knowing Virgil worked with the TPI.
Virgil shook his head. “I won’t,” he said. Deciding to throw out his nervousness and embarrassment over last time he shot forward to kiss Logan quickly on the lips. They bumped noses and Logan’s glasses ended up askew in the process, but Logan didn’t seem to mind judging by his delighted laugh when they parted.
“Thank you,” Virgil said again.
“Of course,” Logan replied.
 Virgil could still feel the ring on his finger even after Patton and Roman got back from the dump with the device that had caused this whole mess. He could still feel it when Logan turned it off and his time piece reactivated. He could still feel it there when he made it home and gave an excuse as to why he’d left his trip early. He could still feel it when he got an email from an unknown sender making sure he got home okay.
  Arc IV: (To Be Named)
Chapter 52
“What’s this?” Janus asked when a giant bowl was set on the coffee table in front of him.
“We’re eating on the couch tonight,” Emile said cheerfully.
Janus raised an eyebrow and switched off the tablet he’d been using to look at him. “Why?” he asked.
Emile shrugged and set a second huge bowl down next to Janus’s. “For fun,” Emile said. He turned back towards the kitchen and Janus leaned forward to look in the bowl. It was spaghetti with some sort of creamy sauce and a few different vegetables mixed in along with some shrimp.
“I made green tea,” Emile said, coming back into the room with two mugs.
 “Thanks,” Janus said, taking one of the mugs with a small smile.
“What were you doing?” Emile asked as he took a seat beside Janus. He nodded at the deactivated screen now sitting on the end table.
“Just doing some puzzle games,” Janus said.
“That sounds fun,” Emile said with a smile.
“Head doctor said they might be a good thing to do to pass the time when I told him to fuck off after suggesting reading.”
Emile sighed. “Dr. Figueroa is my colleague. You could try to be polite.”
“I thought I was supposed to be my authentic self in therapy,” Janus replied.
 Emile just huffed and rolled his eyes. Janus couldn’t help but smile as he picked up his mug of green tea.
The last few months had been…different. In a lot of ways, Janus’s life had become harder than it had been before. It had been easy to do nothing but eat pre-prepared meals, go to work, and pass out in his empty house every day. It wasn’t good for him. He’d known it even then, but it had been easy. This was not.
Emile had offered, insisted really, that Janus move into his house for a bit just to get back on his feet.
 He’d taken time off of the TPI which would have been given to him anyway since he’d spent so trapped in the past. He’d had to give a report of what had happened, and he’d mentioned Patton, but he hadn’t mentioned everything. They’d offered him a shrink when he’d asked.
Janus had told Emile he needed to tell him something about why he’d been distant, so he wouldn’t end up chickening out, but he’d asked for a bit of time to figure out what to say. He’d finally worked up the courage to talk about it with Dr. Figueroa two weeks ago. Much like with Patton, it was easier to talk to someone who hadn’t been involved in Janus’s mistake, but it still wasn’t easy.
 He was running up on the deadline he’d given for having that talk with him. It had to happen soon, and they both knew it, but Emile was just patiently waiting for him to suck it up. It felt… wrong to use his kindness without him knowing, but it was also nice to get to spend time with his brother. He didn’t even dare to hope that he’d still have the chance once he told him.
He was moving back into his own house in less than a week. He’d tell him then so if Emile ended up kicking him out of his life, he wouldn’t have to kick him out of his home too.
 For now, though everything was fine. Harder, more complicated, and in threat of exploding at any moment, but fine. Fine wasn’t something he’d really felt in a long time. Or at least, fine while in his own time wasn’t something he’d felt in a long time. There’d been a few moments with Patton sitting next to the fire outside the hole in the ground they’d slept in for those few months where the man would turn to look at him and he’d felt fine. Yet, Patton had been right. Those moments were unsustainable with how Janus was actually feeling deep down.
 “This is good,” Janus said, after taking a couple of bites of the pasta in front of him.
“Well, I always was the only one in the house that could cook,” Emile said, and that was true. “It was either learn to defend for myself or eat a cheeseburger for every meal.”
“Hey, I had a good burger seasoning.”
“Not for every meal, Janus.”
“Meat, dairy, bread. What more could you want?”
“Vegetables, Janus.”
“You could have put pickles on!”
“I don’t like pickles.”
“That sounds like your problem, not mine,” Janus argued.
Emile shook his head, turning his eyes to the ceiling. “How have you been surviving on your own?”
 “Well, I mean,” Janus said. “Badly.”
“Right…” Emile said. He leaned over to bump their shoulders together. Janus flashed him a smile.
“Speaking of,” said Janus. “Could you physically force me to pack tonight? I meant to do it today and instead I ended up playing puzzles games.”
Emile chucked. “Sure, I’ll help you after dinner.”
“You don’t have to help me,” said Janus. “Just make me do it.”
“Maybe I want to help,” said Emile.
“Oh, yes, packing. The most entertaining of Thursday night activities.”
Emile hummed and then glanced at him. “Remember when you helped me pack for college?” he asked.
 “Mmm, I do,” Janus replied.
“I was so stressed about going somewhere new,” Emile said, “that I avoided packing for weeks. Every time Mom would ask me how packing was going, I’d tell her it was going fine but in reality, I hadn’t even started. You’d come home two days before I had to leave because you were going to help me move into my dorm. It’s like you could sense no packing had been done the moment you stepped through the front door.”
“You were doing your ‘hiding the broken horse statue from mom’ shuffle,” Janus said with a smirk.
 “Well, you walked me straight to my room and we packed everything up in those two days,” Emile said. “You made it so much easier.”
“Yeah, because I hovered over you until you did it and did half of it for you,” Janus snorted.
“It wasn’t just that,” Emile said. “You also found the music streaming station run by the university and put that on and talked about what your freshman year was like. You also had tips on what things I should and shouldn’t pack when moving into the dorm.”
“You still took all of the cartoon stuffed animals despite my advice.”
 “I thought there’d be more space on the bed,” Emile frowned.
Janus snorted.
“But anyway, just having someone else around made me happier. It wasn’t just about the workload being halved either. You being there made me feel less lonely and reminded me I’d always have someone to come back to.”
Janus internally winced. He was sure Emile hadn’t meant to make him feel guilty in any way. In fact, he probably was trying to do the opposite, but him saying that just reminded Janus that it hadn’t been true. Janus had abandoned him for literal years and hadn’t been someone he could always come back to.
 Emile had proven himself to be at least close to who he was before Janus messed with time the few last months. There were a couple of differences here and there, and Janus could not be sure if they were from him changing time or from him avoiding his brother for the past three years and him naturally changing. Most memories they shared that Janus cautiously brought up or Emile mentioned on his own were consistent with what Janus remembered, but he hadn’t pushed too hard or dug too deep. It just made him feel more guilty about avoiding the man for so long.
 It made him want to ignore the man more, because it seemed every choice Janus ever made only hurt him.
Well, perhaps not the college radio station when helping an anxious 18-year-old pack up his childhood bedroom.
He should probably tell Emile that his words made him feel guilty because that was obviously not the intention and he’d want to know. He should probably apologize properly for leaving him alone for three years without an explanation. He should probably provide an explanation for those three years.
He should probably go see the head doctor again soon.
(He should probably stop calling Emile’s colleague who was in the same field as him a head doctor derogatorily in his head.)
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For now, he just glanced at Emile. “You’re trying to bully me into letting you help pack with logic, aren’t you?”
“I am,” Emile confirmed without remorse.
“Fine,” Janus sighed, “but only if you let me do the dishes for you.”
Emile took a long moment to consider the offer. “You drive a hard bargain,” he said, “but okay.”
“And no doing anything sneaky like getting bags ready for me on your own while I’m doing it or the deal is off,” Janus said.
“You always think of all possible loopholes, Janus,” Emile sighed.
There was a long silence.
“Agree, you prick,” said Janus.
“No promises,” Emile replied cheekily with laughter in his eyes, and things were good for a moment more.
 Chapter 53
Today Janus was moving into his house in 24th century for the second time in his life, and honestly, the house wasn’t going to look much different than it had when he’d first moved in. Janus had unpacked his things more at Emile’s house in the past almost 6 months than he had in the two and a half years he’d liven in his house. His house held clothes, bare bone furniture, and exactly one skillet from when he’d decided to be daring and tried to cook himself an egg. All he’d really customized for himself was the setting on the LXC device which controlled the lights, media across the home, and prepackaged food ordering and prepare.
 He almost felt embarrassed that his house was so empty. Emile, of course, knew that his mental health had been fucked, but the blankness of his house was a physical reminder of this fact especially considering how he used to keep house before all of this. He’d warned Emile about the fact that his house was empty, and he had said he understood, but still.
They gathered all of the luggage in a pile in Emile’s guest room. They’d had to get permissions from the TPI to allow Emile to travel to his house, and Janus went ahead and filed to give him permanent permission to travel there.
 The decision felt far too hopeful for someone who hadn’t had that conversation with his brother yet, but it had made Emile smile in the moment.
Emile took three of the bags and Janus took the rest. He waved his arm and selected the third saved location on the device. In a moment, he was standing in the living room of his dark, empty house.
His supposed to be dark and empty house. More of the lights were on than Janus had ever switched on himself, and half of the windows were open. (He didn’t even know some of those windows opened.)
 They were letting in the sounds of birds that made the lakeside their home as well as cool late fall breeze. There was also a racket coming from the kitchen. Emile was beside him a second after he himself had appeared. He looked around for a moment. “Did you leave it like this?”
“No,” Janus replied.
“Do you have squatters?” He had a security system from 2 millennia in the future on his house. He highly doubted it.
“I’m going to go check the kitchen,” Janus said, moving towards the noises coming from the other room.
He stopped in the doorway to his kitchen only to see Patton standing at his kitchen counter cutting up a carrot on a cutting board Janus didn’t think he owned, and if he did, it was buried in a box somewhere.
 “What are you doing?” Janus asked.
“Cooking!” was the immediate reply.
“In my house?” Janus asked. “How do you even know where my house is?”
“I may be just a little bit ahead of you,” Patton said with a wink while tapping the side of his nose.
Janus sputtered. “This is my house!”
“I know!” He said it so cheerfully while being a purposefully obtuse asshole that Janus could help but crack a smile and shake his head. He’d missed him after spending so long alone with him though he wasn’t go to admit that to him when he’d broken into Janus’s house to…
“Again, what are you doing?”
 “I’m making you soup.”
“Why?” Janus asked.
“Well,” Patton said. “I know it’s a bit of a rough time for you, so I thought I’d give you a nice welcome home present and what better present than food!” He smiled at him widely.
Janus looked closer at what he was making. “You’re trying to prove to me you can cook.” Patton frowned at him. “Have you considered I have had enough fish stew for a lifetime?”
“Nope!” he said. “It’s entirely different this time anyway. I have carrots!”
“I don’t like carrots,” Janus lied blandly.
“Liar!” Patton declared.
“No, I’m not,” Janus continued to lie.
 “I mean, that was definitely a lie,” Emile interjected from behind Janus. He was looking at them curiously. “Er, hello, who are you?”
“This is Pat,” Janus said.
“The illegal time traveler you’ve been tracking?” Emile asked with a questioning lilt to his tone.
“Ah, yes, well,” Janus said with a cough. “We came to an understanding when stuck in pre-history.”
“And now he is cooking you soup in your house?” Emile asked.
“I’ve long since stopped trying to make sense of him,” Janus grumbled.
“Well,” Emile said. “Hello Pat.”
“You can call me Patton,” he said easily. “I hope it’s nice to meet me, because I’ve already met you.”
 “We haven’t been meeting in the correct order,” Janus informed Emile. “So, he’s apparently already met you which will happen in your future. It is also something he shouldn’t be talking about,” he scolded. Patton took that with a shrug.
“I hate time travel,” Emile said, his nose scrunching up. “Isn’t life already confusing enough.”
Janus winced, not relishing the upcoming conversation with him about how confusing his life was now because of time travel.
“Don’t you work with the TPI too?” Patton asked.
“That doesn’t mean I like time travel,” Emile said. “I’m a stationary agent and I like that just fine.”
 “Time travel can be a bit complicated sometimes,” Patton acknowledged, “but I don’t think it’s all bad.” He finished chopping up the carrot and turned to put it in the self-regulating soup pot. Janus squinted at it. It was certainly not something Patton had in the 21st century. So, the question was. Had he gone out and bought time appropriate cookware before breaking into Janus’s house or had he gone through Janus’s storage to find it?
“You’re a free agent time traveler, right?” Emile asked.
“Depends on what you mean by free agent,” Patton said. “I have always worked with a group of people, and we have rules and procedures. It’s basically a time agency itself, just not the TPI.”
 “And you’ve met me before?”
“I have,” Patton confirmed, “but Janus is right in that I can’t say much more than that about it. In fact,” he said wiping off his hands on a towel hanging from his apron. (The apron was covered in cartoon squirrels and totted the phrase ‘I’m a nut for baking.’) “I should probably be getting out of here.”
“You’ve never been worried about us meeting out of order before,” Janus pointed out with a frown. He didn’t particularly want Patton to go even though the man had broken into his house and possibly went through his boxes of kitchen equipment.
 “Well,” Patton said. “There’s meeting wildly out of order, there’s meeting in order, and then there’s what I’m doing.”
“What are you doing?” Janus asked alarmed.
Patton just shrugged with a smile.
“No, Patton, what are you doing?”
“Soup should be done in about an hour, but you can leave it on all day. I got a pot that’s fridge safe, so just shut it off and stick it in there before going to sleep.”
“Patton.”
“See you later! Bye!” He said and disappeared into thin air.
Janus sighed and rubbed the bridge of his brow. “Why is he like this?”
 “Janus,” Emile asked. “Why did your self-declared mortal enemy make you soup?”
“Because he’s an asshole, that’s why.”
“Uh huh,” Emile said, looking at him oddly.
“What?” Janus asked.
“What exactly happened when you were stuck in the past?” Emile asked.
Janus sighed. “A lot happened. A lot.” He glanced at the soup pot happily performing its function on his kitchen counter. ‘I hope it’s nice to meet me, because I’ve already met you,’ rang in his ears. Fucking Patton with his little hints about the future. It gave Janus just a bit of courage though knowing that Emile at least didn’t flee the continent after the conversation they had to have. He was at least around enough to meet Patton. “In fact,” Janus said. “It’s probably time I told you what happened. Everything that happened.”
 Chapter 54
They sat down in the living room. Janus let Emile have the couch and sat on one of the matching armchairs. There was a squeaky sound when he sat. The plastic covering the chair had been delivered in was still on it.
Emile had a pleasant, open but curious expression on his face and Janus suddenly had an idea what it felt like to be his patient.
“I,” Janus began after a moment, shifting uncomfortably on the squeaky chair. “I don’t know how to start this conversation. I talked about what I wanted to say and possible ways to say it with Dr. Figueroa, but I… I still don’t know.”
 “I guess I should start by saying that I did something horrible that I need to apologize for and I’m not sure if apologizing will even be enough. The problem is you don’t even know what that horrible thing is.” Janus stared at his feet. “So, first, I should probably explain what I did. I just don’t know where to start.”
“Maybe start with what happened before it,” Emile suggested. “Just lead up to it. It might help explain why whatever it was happened too.”
Janus took a breath. “Okay,” he said. “That day was just like most that I remember. We both woke up early. I was going to the TPI and you were going to where you worked your residency. We ate leftover pizza for breakfast because both of us were exhausted. You because it sucks to be a resident and me because I’d been working on a big case.”
 “I was getting frustrated with the case. That was my first mistake: being impatient and angry. It was just a thief, but a slippery one. She’d stolen a half-broken time piece and was using it to rob banks within about a 50-year time frame. I had an idea of where she might go, but no one would listen to me. Or at least,” Janus quirked a half smile, “that’s how I interpreted it. They said they’d look into my idea, but they were being extra cautious because of how close in the timestream her actions were to most of the agents’ lives.”
 “I was so tired of the case and so egotistical. I decided to check it out on my own without being cleared by the TPI. I went back in time without thinking of the consequences and that was the worst thing I’ve ever done.” Janus took a breath. “I’m not sure how, but somewhere in the course of my self-appointed mission…” He trailed off. He didn’t know how to say it. He really didn’t.
“What happened?” Emile asked when he didn’t continue.
“I…” and his next words probably sounded like crackly nonsense to Emile’s ears because he couldn’t get his thoughts straight and his tongue wouldn’t make the words right.
 “I don’t even remember living in that town or the fact that Mom used to work at that bank,” he choked out. “I didn’t think and I didn’t check and…” There was a long silence. “I erased you,” he finally managed to say in a whisper, but in the quiet of his barely lived in house, the words were loud.
There was more silence. “But I…” Emile said after a moment.
“I went back and fixed it,” Janus said, “but I… didn’t do a perfect job. I don’t even know how much I messed things up. It would have been one thing if it’d just been me. If it had just impacted my life, but I did it to you and I don’t even know how to start to apologize.”
 Nothing was said for a long moment. Janus didn’t look at him.
“…Huh,” Emile finally said.
Janus risked a glance at him. He didn’t look irate, but he did still look confused which was probably the reason for that.
“I’m sorry,” Janus said. It was really the only thing he could say at this point.
Emile tilted his head to the side. He took off his glasses and cleaned them with the edge of his shirt with slow circles. Since he was 15, Emile only cleaned his glasses with specially designed wipes, but he’d held onto the habit of cleaning his glasses with his shirt anytime he needed a moment to think. Janus wasn’t sure if Emile even realized he was doing it, but he knew it was a signal for Janus to be quiet for a few seconds.
 The glasses were perched back on Emile’s nose after a few seconds. “I think I remember that,” he said contemplatively.
“…What?” Janus asked, and he was no longer avoiding looking at Emile. He was now blatantly staring at him.
“Well, I didn’t know what it was,” Emile said, “but I did have a very odd dream on the day you mentioned and suspiciously I had said dream in the middle of the day and woke standing up.”
“A dream?” Janus asked.
“A very vivid dream,” Emile said. “I don’t believe you actually erased me completely from existence. My life was simply shifted slightly. I was working as a social worker for about 5 hours and then I was back in my appropriate place.”
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“Why didn’t you tell me about that?” Janus asked, but then immediately wince at his own hypocrisy. “Er… never mind.”
“I didn’t know it was possibly real,” Emile said. “Honestly, I thought I was just really tired. I’d been overworking myself a lot. I took the rest of the day off after that.”
“You shifted reality for a few hours, and you didn’t realize it?” Janus asked.
“Like I said, I was really tired and nothing seemed to be wrong…”
“Wait, but things were different,” Janus said. “Didn’t you notice things were different.”
“Not… really,” Emile said. “Like what?”
“Like…” Janus said. “Like a whole bunch of things!”
 “Like…?”
“Like you had a different job title and you worked different hours.”
“I thought I’d fallen asleep standing up or had a vivid audio-visual hallucination at work from stress. I asked for a switch a couple of weeks later.”
“You used to hate time travel, but then you took a job at the TPI.”
Emile gave him a drawl look. “I still hate time travel,” he said. “I literally just said that not 5 minutes ago.”
“Well then why would you work for the TPI.”
“Because time travel is so confusing and distressing that people doing it on a regular basis as a career need psychological support.”
 “Plus, Lia asked for my consultation when developing the mental health part of the Agent Management Office,” Emile continued. “Considering I already knew quite a bit about time travel from being around you, she knew me personally, and I’d finished my residency, she decided to give me a job offer when my advice panned out.”
“W-well,” Janus said. “You were allergic to pineapples.”
“You mean my childhood allergy?” Emile asked. “That has since resolved itself in my adult life?”
“It has?” Janus asked.
“Janus have you considered,” Emile said, “that some if not all of the inconsistencies you were seeing in my life have to do with the fact that you hadn’t spoken to me in 3 years?”
 “I… uh… hadn’t considered that,” Janus admitted honestly.
“You were looking for information to support your incorrect world view,” Emile said sounding very much like a head doctor and not like a brother, “and you found some.” He sighed. “It makes sense after having faced a traumatic event where you effectively thought you’d killed a loved one that you weren’t thinking clearly.” The head doctor analysis voice slipped just a bit. “I just wish you’d talked about it with someone.”
“Sorry,” Janus said, because no matter which way this conversation had gone and no matter the revelations, the point was an apology. “I’m sorry.”
 Emile sighed. “I would have forgiven you even if you had erased me,” Emile said. “You didn’t mean to, and you did your best to fix it. You did fix it even if you were an idiot about it.”
“What about for being an idiot and not talking to you for three years?” Janus asked.
“I already did forgive you for that Janus,” Emile said pointedly. “What did you think the last 6 months were?”
“Pity?”
Emile gave him his disappointed and exasperated head shake. “Promise to never do anything like that to me again,” he said, “and I’ll forgive you.”
 “I promise,” Janus said immediately.
“And in the future, you’ll talk to me if you have any issue even if you think it’s horrible.”
“I think I’ve learned by lesson on that one.”
“And that goes for other people too,” Emile said. “If anything goes wrong with someone, you talk to them or if that’s too hard you talk to someone so they can convince you to talk to that person.”
Janus nodded.
“Great!” Emile said. “Then you’re officially forgiven for everything. Though I expect you to go to therapy and keep working on making yourself feel better, so these things don’t happen again.”
 And Janus… didn’t know how to feel about that. He should probably feel happy and thankful or at least relieved, but if he was being honest, he just felt kind of empty in that moment like an old well that had finally run dry. Fuck his head doctor and fuck Patton. Wasn’t this supposed to make him feel better? Everything was fine. He hadn’t actually erased Emile permanently from the timeline, in fact, he’d apparently still existed in some form in the alternate timeline Janus had temporarily made. Emile had forgiven him both for erasing him and ignoring him even though that was far more than Janus deserved. This was something he’d never even dared dream would happen, but it had been exactly what he’d wanted.
 Yet, he still didn’t feel good, not really, not like how he remembered feeling before all of this happened.
Though was that really a surprise? Things were not like how they were before. He and Emile were no longer close. There was love and affection there, but they didn’t really know each other. The last six months had been nice. He’d been able to pretend for a bit that everything was back to normal, but in the moments he hadn’t been able to pretend that, it’d been a bit stilted and awkward speaking to his brother especially at the start.
 Beyond that, Janus was just used to misery at this point. It was his default state. Not being miserable took effort and energy he didn’t always have. He felt himself slipping into sadness or numbness even during times he should be feeling good. He’d noticed himself experiencing a sense of desolation when Emile cooked his favorite meal or in the middle of watching a ballet performance Emile had suggested they go to and he’d been looking forward to in the days before or even now when he should be so happy, so ecstatic. Everything should be okay, but it wasn’t.
 “You doing alright over there?” Emile asked, and Janus didn’t know how long he’d been silent.
Instinct said to say yes and force himself to move on, but he wasn’t going to break his promise that fast. “Not really, no,” he admitted.
“That’s okay,” Emile said. “Anything I can do to help?”
“I really don’t know.”
“Why don’t we go taste the soup your arch nemesis,” there was a light teasing tone to his voice, “made for you. Some of the vegetables won’t be completely cooked yet, but I’m sure it’s already good.”
“Yeah,” Janus agreed. “Yeah, okay,” he got to his feet, the chair making that plastic squeaking sound again. “Maybe we could unwrap the furniture in here before you go home.”
“I think that’s a good idea,” Emile said with a smile.
 Chapter 55
Somehow, the strangest thing about his life right now was a picture on the wall. It was one that he’d gotten after college when he moved into his first actual house. It wasn’t anything special. It was just something that had caught his eye when he was specifically looking for something classier to put on his wall than the posters he’d hung in his college dorm and apartment with Virgil. It was a tall painting of a tree, but segmented into four parts, each representing the state of a tree in different seasons. In the top left, the three had small leaves and little buds, on the top right it had full leaves bathed in sunlight, in the bottom left the leaves had changed colors and started to fall off, and in the bottom right the tree was devest of leaves but covered in snow.
 It was on the wall near Janus’s bed. It was one of the first things he saw when he opened his eyes in the morning and was usually what reminded him that everything was different now when he woke.
The picture had been in a box in the houses garage up until the Saturday before the last. Saturdays had become his and Emile’s unofficial unpacking Janus’s house day. They would usually pick one or maybe two boxes that had been sitting untouched for years, unpack it, talk, and eat dinner together.
Notably, dinner was usually not provided by either of them.
 Patton had gotten into the habit of breaking into Janus’s house. Janus would sometimes catch him doing it briefly, but often Patton managed to avoid him. This was quite the feat considering Janus was not currently working and thus stayed at home a lot of the time. Patton had repeatedly reprogrammed Janus’s kitchen taking away the option for pop tarts entirely and replacing the option with real food. Janus’s kitchen was constantly stocked with something to eat that wasn’t trash. He also liked to leave around different smelling hand soaps, flowers, and paper cranes. Janus had an entire drawer in his nightstand dedicated to storing paper cranes now.
 The newest one was still on his nightstand from the night before, sitting cheerfully in the way of his view of the tree paining when his alarm woke up that morning. He sighed. He had not missed getting up early for work.
He was finally going back to working at the TPI this morning. His therapist had signed off on it last week, saying his was fit for duty. Considering they were apparently still understaffed at the TPI and Janus was a senior agent, this was met with much relief. Janus himself still wasn’t sure how he felt about it.
 He turned off the alarm and stood. Dr. Figueroa had him write out a morning schedule to follow when he’d expressed his struggle to get the day started. Either Patton or Emile had taken it upon themselves to copy the schedule on virtual sticky notes that appeared in every location necessary for getting ready in the morning.
First, he took a shower. He threw his nightclothes in the laundry chute. There were currently dozens of different scented soaps in his shower all in small bottles that had about 2 or 3 uses. Janus presumed they were curtesy of Patton. He decided to use one at random and it ended up being cotton candy scented.
 Next, he got dressed. That was easy enough since he always wore the same outfit to work every day. It didn’t matter what he wore much since missions would force him to redress anyway.
Then he went to his kitchen and sat down at the counter. He pushed the pop tart button. As expected at this point, he did not get a pop tart for breakfast. Instead, he got two eggs, toast, a sliced apple, and a few cherry tomatoes with green tea. He ate his breakfast while finishing one of the puzzles he’d been working on the night before.
 Once he finished, it was time to finally face going back to the office. He sighed, stood up and pulled up the screen on his timepiece. He selected his office as his destination and was off.
The first thing that happened upon appearing in his office was he got a face full of… something.
He sputtered, smacking the things fluttering about his face out of the air. “What is wrong with you?” was the first thing out of his mouth before he’d even really confirmed that the culprit of this attack was who he’d automatically assumed he was.
Remus, as anticipated was standing not 2 feet away from him.
 Remus had apparently gotten into the prop department again because he had some type of softly glowing glittery confetti was no all over Janus as well as their entire office.
“Remus, I told you no!” Lena snapped. “You know it’s impossible to clean up 3150s sparkle nukes.”
“Welcome back!” Remus crowed.
“I hate you,” Janus replied. “I just took a shower.”
“You’re fine,” Remus said with an eye roll.
“This shit doesn’t come off in decontamination,” Janus spat. “If my first mission back sends me to a time where I’ll be tried as a witch for glowing, I’m blaming you.”
 “We’re going to 2510,” Remus informed him. “You’ll fit right in.”
Janus grimaced. “Ugh, that decade.”
“It’s my favorite decade!” Remus exclaimed.
“Of course, it is,” Lena grumbled. “Just don’t bring anything gross back this time.”
“No promises,” Remus replied.
Janus chose to disengage from the conversation as Remus and Lena argued about was and what wasn’t allowed to be brought back to their shared office from what was well known as the least tasteful decade in history. It was also one of the least turbulent decades in history. The population was too busy making shitty ice cream flavors to wage war.
 At least they were giving him an easier assignment for his first time back. He turned to his desk and pulled up the files on his next mission, glancing through them. It was just a small blip that the TPI had noticed in a small town in 2510. It probably wasn’t much of anything, but they had no record of what had caused it, so they were going to send someone to look. Honestly, they’d usually just send in a surveillance agent and be done with it, but they’d probably handpicked this one for Janus in particular. He’d be insulted if he didn’t honestly still feel a bit off kilter being in the office.
 To his surprise, he didn’t have a scheduled meeting with Rhi. It wasn’t particularly important to see a mission coordinator for something this small, but it still wasn’t the usual protocol. Instead, he was just instructed to pick up his costume at the costuming department and leave in about an hour.
“Do we really not have an appointment with Rhi?” Janus asked.
“Senior agents haven’t really been meeting with Rhi unless it’s a high priority mission,” Lena told him. “We have too many newbies running around and there’s not time.
“That’s concerning…” Janus said.
“It’s better than trying to rush the inexperienced ones through. We at least have a general idea of what we’re doing. They’re trying to train up more mission coordinators, but that’s taking a while.”
 Janus still frowned, but he glanced back at the mission instructions. He’d have to make sure he thoroughly understood what was being asked of him before leaving if he wasn’t meeting with Rhi. “We should go get changed,” he told Remus. “2510s clothing is notoriously difficult to put on.”
“Five minutes back and he’s already dying to get my clothes off,” Remus said cheekily.
“I would rather tear my own eyeballs out of my socket than see you without your pants on again.”
Remus just wiggled his eyebrows.
“I’m so glad you’re back,” said Lena when Janus looked at her in exasperation. “He’s finally not Fred’s and my problem anymore.”
 Chapter 56
Getting ready for the mission was a bit of a mess honestly. The costume department barely even spared them a glance before sending them on their way. Remy at least was still there to give them one last debrief before sending them off into 2510, though he looked exhausted.
“Are you sleeping?” asked Janus.
“I’m drinking coffee,” was the reply as he shooed them out onto the streets.
The timeline disturbance that had been picked up was somewhere in one of the shops on that street.
“Do you want the bakery or the karaoke/stripper bar?” Remus asked.
Janus raised an eyebrow at him, and Remus clapped him on the back.
“This is why we’re partners,” he said.
 He plodded off towards the building to their right, and Janus turned to the building on the left. It was a small bakery and coffee shop painted in bright colors and sporting the Brazilian and Albanian flags.
There was a soft tinkling bell sound when he entered the shop, and the person behind the counter glanced over at him briefly before finishing putting a pastry in bag for a customer.
Unfortunately, their attention meant Janus wasn’t going to get away with snooping around the store without buying anything. He glanced around the interior of the shop as he walked up to the till.
 He glanced into the bakery display case the worker was standing behind. Oh… oh that all looked disgusting. He was not depressed enough anymore to willingly eat any of that.
“Uh,” Janus said when the worker looked at him. He glanced up at the wide selection of drinks over their head and winced at the ways the letters moved on the screen. He was pretty sure his dyslexia wasn’t quite that bad. Why did anyone choose to make letters move around and shake on purpose? As someone who had to deal with that on a daily basis, it wasn’t exactly entertaining.
 “Is it possible to get a banana and chocolate potato chip smoothie, but without the potato chip part?” he asked.
“Sure,” the worker replied. “Anything else?”
Janus shook his head.
“Can I have a name for that?”
“Jay,” Janus replied.
“Alright. It’ll be out in a minute.”
Janus nodded and turned, able to take in the rest of the establishment now that there weren’t eyes on him. It was as colorful on the inside as it was on the outside and seemed to have a retro cowboy-space theme mixed with posters from a contemporary werewolf romance movie. Janus had actually seen that movie one. It was surprisingly tolerable.
 The seats at least looked comfortable. There were a good number of tables and three couches. All of them were mix-matched. A few of the tables were outfitted with holographic chess and checkers, but most were normal tables. There were even a few physical boardgames and some bookshelves full of books, though he thought some of the bookshelves might just be there for decoration. He wasn’t sure which were and which weren’t.
He pretended to be very interested in the decorations as he waited on his drink, using that as an excuse to look around the entire shop. He was turned away when the door chimed again.
 “Hello,” a familiar voice said, making Janus turn around instantly. Janus could immediately tell that the man hesitantly lingering in front of the bakery display was not the Patton that he’d spent months holed up with or who had broken into Janus’s house repeatedly to replace his soaps and cook him meals. He seemed out of place which was saying something in 2510. He had the air about him that he was an 80-year-old grandpa trying to embrace youth culture, but not quite getting it. He also spoke in an accent that people around him would probably assume was him just not being fluent in Spanish but was actually him not being completely comfortable speaking Spanish from half a century ago.
 “Uh…” said Patton looking at the menu, a crease between his eyes.
“I’d suggest the banana and chocolate potato chip smoothie without the potato chips,” Janus said. Patton startled, whipping around to face him in surprise. “That’s what I got, though I would leave out the potato chips.”
Patton’s eyes narrowed on him. It was not, of course, the first time that Patton hadn’t been thrilled to see him, but it was the first time Janus had been happy to see him and he hadn’t been happy to see him in turn. Janus had gotten used to a Patton that liked him and he found himself not quite prepared for the way he pursed his lips in annoyance at the sight of Janus.
 “I’ll do the banana and chocolate potato chip smoothie, but with the potato chips,” he said in a way that made it sound like he thought he was getting one up on Janus for some reason.
“What flavor of chips?” the worker asked.
“Er, what flavors do you have?”
“Uh, I think drywall, oak wood, and limestone.”
Janus almost laughed at his expression. “Uh, do you have any naturally edible flavors?” he asked.
“We might have grass.”
Patton squinted as the worker bent to look under the cabinet. “Oh, wait, no, it’s glass. Is that alright?”
“…Maybe just no on the chips.”
 Janus did his best to school his features, so it wasn’t obvious he was laughing at him. He didn’t think he did a very good job considering Patton was glaring at him after turning around. That or he was just already pissed at Janus by default. It could go either way honestly.
“So,” Janus said when the worker turned away to start making Patton’s drink. “What are you doing here.”
“It’s none of your business,” Patton said with narrowed eyes.
“I mean, we could both be here for the same reason,” Janus pointed out. “We could share intel.”
“I doubt we’re here for the same reason.”
 “How would you know?” asked Janus.
Patton just looked away from him. He immediately looked confused at the movie poster his eyes landed on.
“Unless,” Janus said curiously, you aren’t here for a reason, reason.” Patton said nothing. “It was a pretty small disturbance, so it would make sense that your equipment might not pick up on it.” At least at this point. “Acting the tourist, Pat?”
“I’m just doing research,” Patton said, crossing his arms.
“Research?” Janus asked.
“I’ve never been here before,” Patton admitted. “I wanted to get a feel for it and other places just in case there ever was an issue.”
 “You just did France, didn’t you?” Janus asked.
Patton frowned and Janus smiled slightly. “It was recent,” he admitted.
“Well,” Janus said. “If you want some advice. I’d start with figuring out accents when you’re in different times.”
“I don’t need your advice,” Patton said and then smugly, “Janus.”
It took a bit for Janus to scan back through his memories and remember that Patton hadn’t known Janus’s name in France. He would have only figured it out after his friend Lo hacked into Silver Mountains University’s system and figured out Virgil had an appointment with him. Janus raised an eyebrow. “You sure about that, Patton?”
 He frowned, pouting like whenever Janus told him he wasn’t allowed to try to catch a bird and make it their pet. It was strange to meet a version of Patton who had not lived in a hole in the ground with him for months when Janus had already done that. Patton was on the back foot for once throughout this conversation. Every time before this, he’d managed to somehow twist it around even when he’d been younger than he was right now. When Janus had arrested him at the University, he’d managed to figure out his equipment wouldn’t be stopped by the TPI’s despite having no idea what the TPI was.
 In France, even when Janus had thought he’d been winning by taking his phone, he ended up getting access to a University in Janus’s time with information on the TPI, a situation that still had not been resolved.
Today, however, Janus knew far more about Patton than Patton expected. He still didn’t know exactly what his agency or whatever it should actually be called did, but he knew some things about it. He knew Patton was from the 21st century which explained the anachronisms in his speech in different times.
“You could help me look if you’d like,” Janus offered casually.
 “Why?” Patton asked suspiciously.
Janus shrugged. It was not because he missed him, he insisted to himself. It wasn’t because after spending so much time with him, not getting to talk with him all day was strange. It had nothing to do with the fact that the few times he’d ran into a farther along version of Patton since he’d moved back home, their interactions had been brief and tinged with something. No, the only reason Janus was inviting him along was so he could teach this younger version a few things, so he hopefully didn’t go about messing up time. “We worked well together in France, didn’t we?” he asked. “Besides, it’s just a small mission without much danger to the timeline.”
 “Pat,” the person at the counter called. Patton turned to him to go grab his smoothie, thanking the worker before turning back around and walking over to Janus.
“Fine,” he said. “I’ll help, but you have to answer my questions.”
“I’ll answer the questions that won’t endanger any timelines or secrets of my agency.”
Patton considered it for a moment, taking a sip of his drink. “Fine,” he agreed.
“Good,” Janus replied. “We’ll start by looking around the coffee shop for anything unusual. Did you have any questions now. It’d look more natural to be walking around if we were having a conversation.”
“Does the glitter in your hair have to do with the style of the time or…?”
Janus sighed.
 Chapter 57
Luckily, the cashier didn’t seem to think them snooping around was very odd. To be fair, the shop had quite a few odd decorations to look at. So, perhaps employees were just used to people walking around and looking at all of the different things. It helped that Janus and Patton were talking as they searched. They just looked like a couple… of friends… casually chatting and exploring the coffee shop together.
“So,” Patton said, keeping his voice quiet, though luckily the few patrons were on the other side of the shop. “What exactly is it that you do working for the TPI?”
 “Well,” Janus said. “I’m a senior field agent. That means I am the person who actually goes on missions in different times. These missions can range from tracking down people who are committing crimes using time travel, stopping anything or anyone that could damage the timestream, and helping waylaid time travelers.”
“So, there are different types of agents?” Patton asked, curiously.
“Yes,” Janus replied. “There are a lot, but only four type time travel on a regular basis.” Should he be telling a very young version of Patton this? Probably not, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care too much.
 “There are surveillance, touchdown, field, and cleanup agents,” he explained. “Surveillance agents do a bunch of things including research about the exact time field agents are going to and figuring out the best places for them to enter the timestream. Touchdown agents come slightly before field agents to do last second checks and stay when field agents are out. They mostly are just there to intervene if there are any unforeseen issues. Field agents actually interact with people from other times on a daily basis as they slip into the timestream and find whatever person or object they’re looking for. Cleanup agents come in afterwards and tie up any loose ends as well as observe the area for a few days to make sure nothing happened that no one caught.”
 “Everyone else who works at the TPI is mostly in research and management. They don’t usually travel, though everyone who works there is licensed to travel if necessary.”
“That’s a lot of people,” Patton commented.
“What we do is important. We want to make sure we are doing it correctly.” It was honestly not meant to be a jab, but Janus could see Patton frown. He decided to change the subject. “Right now, we’re looking for something that’s causing a small disturbance.”
“What type of thing could cause a disturbance? Is it always a machine like the one in France?”
“No,” Janus replied. “That was actually unusual.” He thought for a second. “At least that used to be unusual, but lately we’ve seen more and more of that sort of thing.”
 They were currently standing at a bookshelf, but nothing pinged Janus’s interest or time piece, so they moved on to look at a few of the movie posters. Patton seemed to grow more and more concerned the longer he looked at the posters.
“So, what is it usually?”
“Well,” said Janus. “Some things are natural events. No one’s really sure what causes those. There are theories, but I’m not really involved in that. We leave those alone for the most part if we find those. They’re usually small things, though on occasion they’re a bit bigger. Usually, time disturbances are caused by someone messing up. They say something wrong that gets someone curious and creates a butterfly or they leave an object that doesn’t exist in the time.”
 “So, what do you think this one is?” Patton asked curiously.
“Well,” Janus said. “It’s a rather small disturbance, so it won’t be anything too major. Probably just an object out of place.”
“Hmm,” Patton replied. “Well, I’ve always been good at those find the difference games.”
“Have you now?” Janus said, unable to stop a slight grin from ghosting over his face.”
“Mhmm,” replied Patton. He drained the rest of his smoothie and then turned around, facing away from the wall of posters they’d been looking at. He slowly scanned the room, an action a lot less inconspicuous than what Janus had them doing, but he didn’t protest for now.
 “That’s weird,” Patton declared, pointing rather obviously at a shelf. Janus noticed a woman looking at him funny. “Well,” Patton continued. “More like it isn’t weird, which is weird for here.”
Janus glanced at the shelf full of small figurines. Most of them were of mythical creatures: werewolves, dragons, and even one not even Janus recognized. Janus would guess, especially judging by the plethora of movie posters that they were all from movies or something of the like. However, Patton was correct there was one that stuck out from the rest. It was still a figurine, but unlike the rest, it was of a real animal: a cow.
 “That is odd,” Janus agreed, peering at the cow. Figuring Patton had already been obvious enough, Janus stepped over to the shelf to study it more closely. When looking at it more closely, it became obvious that the cow was very unlike everything else on the shelf. It wasn’t even really a figurine like the ones around it. It looked more like a children’s toy. It’s fur was made out of a soft looking material instead of the stiff plastic of the werewolf next to it.
“It doesn’t really fit in with the collection, does it?” a voice asked from behind Janus.
 Janus winced internally at the fact that a civilian had just noticed him acting oddly, but kept his face smooth externally as he turned to face the woman standing behind him.
“My friend and I were wondering what it was from,” Janus said evenly. “We recognized the rest of the figures, but I’m not sure where this one came from.”
“Well, that’s because it didn’t come from anything,” the woman said. “At least that I know of. I just didn’t know where to put the thing, so I put it on my movie figurine shelf.”
“Ah,” said Janus, a politely interested crinkle to his brow. “Where did you get it then?”
 “A young kid came by about, oh, a week ago. He looked like a high school kid or maybe college. He seemed right confused and upset. He said he didn’t have any money on him, and got weird when I tried to ask him about his parents. I ended up giving him a free drink and let him sit here for a couple’a hours. We got to talking about my collections. See, I have a deal that if someone brings me back something of interest for my displays, they get a free drink. He insisted on giving me that in exchange for the drink even though I told him I’d given him the drink ‘cause he seemed upset.”
 “I don’t even particularly want the thing, but he said he didn’t want it anyway, and he insisted, so I took it.”
“Interesting,” Janus said. “Do you mind if I touch it?”
“Go ahead,” she said with a shrug.
He reached forward to pick up the cow and felt the softest of fizzles that only someone who regularly time traveled would feel. Despite already knowing this must be what he’d come for, he still subtlety set his timepiece to scan it.
 Patton was peering over her shoulder now. “If both you and the person who gave it to you don’t care much about it, do you think we could buy it off of you?” he asked. “I’m a big fan of cows.”
She shrugged her shoulders. “I guess,” she agreed. “If you really like it. I don’t know what else I’d do with it.”
“How much?” Janus asked.
“Well it only cost me a Lemon CastelWalk and a scone, so about 12.”
“Sure,” Janus agreed, pulling out his wallet and forking over the currency. “Thanks,” he said.
“No problem,” she replied. “Hope you can find some use for it.”
 Janus gave her a smile and then looked at Patton. “I think it’s about time to go, don’t you think.”
Patton nodded. “Thank you for the cow statue,” he told the woman as they left the shop. They walked a bit down the street. Patton turned to him once they were out of sight of the shop window. “So, that’s it?” he asked.
Janus nodded and checked his time piece which had finished it’s scan. “The fabric is from the late 43rd century,” he confirmed, “but that’s not all. It’s stranger than that.”
“Stranger how?” Patton asked.
“The materials are definitely from the 43rd century,” Janus said, “but it’s not from the 43rd century.”
“What do you mean?”
 “This,” Janus said, looking at the cow. “This doesn’t exist. Every object has traces of where it’s been no matter how much you clean it. My timepiece can register debris sticking to an object down to the microscopic level and give a general idea where and when they came from. There’s no time travel residue implying it came from the 43rd century or even just dust or dirt from that time period. There isn’t even anything on it from this time period from more than the week the shop owner said it was in her possession. My scans seem to be saying, this thing popped into existence a week ago and didn’t exist in any time or place before that.
Patton frowned. “Well then, what does that mean?”
“I don’t know,” answered Janus frowning down at it. “I have absolutely no idea.”
 Chapter 58
Janus didn’t know what to make of the cow he’d gotten in 2510. He’d said goodbye to the young version of Patton and grabbed Remus before heading back to the TPI. He’d immediately handed the time anomaly over to the labs, but even after a few weeks, he hadn’t heard anything back yet. The labs seemed just as stumped as he was.
The older version of Patton still drifted in and out of his life, usually unseen, like a ghost in the night. Well, a ghost that cooked him plenty of healthy food.
It felt odd slipping back into his old routine of missions.
 Sometimes it felt like no time had passed, but then he’d see the faces of new recruits or get a mission where he didn’t see Rhi and remember that things were different now. The TPI was strained, constantly running after time distortions with no idea what or who was causing them. The new recruits were stumbling to catch up to the agents who knew what they were doing but were still needed to fill the gaps. It made Janus grimace, but he didn’t know what the solution was.
It was nice to be able to talk to Emile about these things.
 If Patton made sure he was taking care of himself at home with nice meals and an ever-changing option of soaps and shampoos, Emile made sure he was taking care of himself at work. Janus was now forced to have a water bottle at his desk to make sure he wasn’t spending the day dehydrated and, assuming he was not on a mission, Emile would either drag him away to eat lunch or bring lunch too him if he was too busy. Today was the later kind of day. Emile had messaged him about 45 minutes ago asking if he was free and then had taken his order for a local restaurant when Janus said he had too much to do.
 There was a knock on the door and both Fred and Janus, the only two occupants of the office at the moment looked up.
“I’ll get it,” Janus said, getting up before Fred did. He knew Fred was currently in the middle of a report on a trip to 2000B.C. he and Lena went to. They’d let a new recruit tag alone for training purposes. It had gone badly to say the least. Fred looked exhausted and stressed which was unlike the usually cheery man.
Janus shuffled to the door and opened it. A man in his early 30s that Janus didn’t recognize was standing there.
 “Hi,” he said. “I, uh, moved into the office next door. My name is Dave.”
There was a moment of silence. “Did you need something Dave.”
“Right,” he said. “Yeah, I was just wondering if your integrator is running, because mine isn’t.”
Janus glanced back at the report he’d been working on. “Yeah, it’s fine.”
“Well, is it, like, connecting to the TPI system?”
“I don’t know,” said Janus, “I was working locally.”
“Yeah, well that’s the problem with mine. I was wondering if anyone else was having the same problem.”
“Let me check,” said Janus, walking over to his desk. He went to open his email and an error message popped up.
 That was… odd to say the least. The TPI had very, very reliable technology. If it was just Janus who could not access the system, he’d assume it was just a local problem, but if the next door neighbor also was having an issue, that could smell trouble.
“Fred,” Janus called. “Are you connected to the internet?”
Fred glanced down at his integrator and clicked a couple of buttons. “No,” he said.
“Hmm,” Janus said. He pulled up his timepiece. That at least connected to the TPI servers, so the servers themselves weren’t down, just the offices’ connection to them. “Well, I can still connect with my timepiece.”
 “Same,” said Fred.
“So, what’s wrong?” Dave asked. “How do we fix it?”
“We don’t fix it,” Janus said. “We submit a tech support request.”
“Oh,” said Dave. “…How do you do that?”
Janus sighed and flicked his wrist to project a screen. “If you go to the web on your timepiece, it’s literally on the page that automatically pops up,” he said pointing.
“We can connect to the internet through our timepieces?” Dave asked.
“…Did you have any training?” Janus asked.
“Don’t be rude,” Fred said absently, still typing on his report.
Janus just rolled his eyes.
“Not on… that part. They did give me a handbook.”
 “Have you read it?” Janus asked.
Dave shrugged which told Janus everything he needed to know.
“Just go back to your office,” Janus told Dave. “I’ll submit the tech support request this time since it’s affecting me as well but read your handbook and familiarize yourself with your timepiece for goodness’s sake.”
“Okay,” Dave said, turning around and wandering back to his office with no thoughts in his eyes.
“I’m not your fucking preschool teacher,” Janus muttered under his breath as he returned to his desk. “It’s not my job to hold your hand and wipe your ass.”
Fred glanced up at him. “Thanks for not saying that when he was still in the room,” he said.
Janus shot him a thumbs up.
 He sat down at his desk and quickly submitted a tech support request. By the time he finished that, Emile was knocking on the door with a bag of food.
“Come in,” Janus said to him, and he did, pulling over Remus’s chair and plopping down the food on Janus’s desk.
“You look stressed,” Emile commented.
Janus sighed, already reaching into the bag to look at what Emile had bought. “Everything’s disorganized, everything’s broken, and no one knows how to do anything.”
“Yeah,” Emile said. “I’ve noticed the TPI is understaffed. Even with all of the new recruits, there never seems to be enough people to go around.”
 “Yeah,” Janus said, pulling out a burger on a pretzel bun and going to unwrap it. “How about you? This all been messing up your job too?”
“In general, for the AMO, yes, because they have to get all of the new agents houses and everything. For my department, not as much, but we are seeing some agents getting stressed because they’re overworked. Mostly the more senior agents.”
“Honestly, I’m lucky stress makes me throw myself into work to avoid thinking about it. I shudder to think how all of the mentally healthy people are holding up.”
“Janus,” Emile scolded.
 “Plus, I’m already set up to have an appointment with a head doctor at least twice a week, so I’m good on that front.”
“I guess that’s true. Just don’t overwork yourself,” Emile said.
“I’m fine Emile. Plus, they need me. I seem to be one of the few people around here who actually know what they’re doing.”
“I just worry…” he said.
“I can handle it well enough,” Janus promised. “I’ve got the toolkit or whatever the head doctor calls it. Plus… work wasn’t ever actually the problem.”
“I know. I know…Just…you aren’t even taking lunch.”
“I have a bit more time free in the afternoon,” Janus said.
 “I was just in the middle of something today. If you’re free for a half hour or something, we could get a cup of coffee. How about that? Would that assuage your worry about me a least a bit?”
“Yeah,” Emile said. “Yeah, it would a bit. I have a break at 2, would that work?”
“Sure,” Janus said. He technically had a good amount of stuff to do, but Emile was right in the end. He should try to take breaks. It wasn’t his duty to do everything at the TPI. “A quick lunch now and coffee at 2.”
 Chapter 59
Janus did fulfil his promise to Emile to take a short coffee break at 2pm. It was nice for both of them, Janus thought and was well worth it… even when he came back to a stack of work and an extra mission on his docket.
“Where did this one even coming from?!” Janus asked as he and Remus speed walked to costuming. “I was gone for less than 30 minutes. They can’t give us more than an hour warning anymore?”
Remus shrugged. “I just got back from a mission,” he said. “I haven’t even had time to write my report on that one.
 “This is a mess,” Janus said. “Everything’s a mess.” Readings of a fairly large time distortion had popped up in 2158 Lille, France out of seemingly nowhere according to write up they’d been given. Though, honestly, with how disorganized the TPI has been, Janus wasn’t 100% confident they hadn’t just missed the thing somehow. It also was apparently giving very similar readings to the time device they’d ran into in Cuba. That’s why they were sending both Remus and Janus, despite the two of them mostly having been split up for missions in the past few weeks. If it was as bad as Cuba, they wanted them to have backup.
 Of course, that was where the TPI’s consideration had ended. Remus and Janus were still being rushed through to this mission and not even seeing Rhi once more. Costuming barely even glanced at them when they got there. They just tossed clothing at them and only gave them a superficial look over before sending them off to decon.
It was almost disorienting how quickly they ended up in a completely different time and place. Janus was lucky that he was used to traveling through time. He could easily slip into the right language and accent and knew how to walk in the shoes they gave him. He worried about other people though.
 They arrived, of course, a bit before the time distortion was meant to begin, especially knowing their devices might not work once whatever it was hit. They waited around on a bench near a small shopping area for a while.
“So,” Remus said. “How’ve you been?”
Janus glanced at him. “Better overall,” he said. “Shit’s fucked with the TPI right now though.”
“I know,” Remus said. “It’s been interfering with my many extracurricular activities.”
“You’re extracurricular activities?” Janus asked. “Do I even want to know?”
Remus show him a smile. “Probably not,” he said. “It’s just the usual: sex, drugs, alcohol, making sure Diesel Fuel has whatever she could ever want.”
 Yet, even as he said it, there was something else in his eyes that gave Janus pause. “Are you sure things are alright?” he asked. “I could help with something if you need.”
“With what time, Janus?” he asked, with a raised eyebrow.
“I could make time,” Janus said.
Remus just shook his head. “It’s nothing,” he claimed.
Janus wanted to press the issue, but then there was a buzz from both of their time pieces.
“Well,” Remus said, getting to his feet. “Duty calls.”
Strangely enough, despite giving off the same signals as the device from Cuba did, their time pieces did not shut off. The detected the time distortion like they were supposed to, but otherwise stayed active.
 It was… incredibly easy to use their time pieces to find the source of the time distortion. Apparently, the caution about it considering that it was similar to the Cuba incident was unfounded.
The tracked the distortion down to a small children’s playground in the middle of the city. There was a device attached to the bottom of one of the slides. Janus flipped it off and balance was restored to time.
“Weird,” Janus said. “It definitely does look like the device we found in Cuba, but…”
“We aren’t currently swimming in an ocean,” Remus filled in.
“Yes,” Janus said. “You’d think the same type of device would have the same effect, but this one was pretty stable.”
 “The main question is still who is putting them,” reminded Remus. “These are clearly not natural. Someone is doing this, but all we’re doing is running around trying to turn them all off instead of getting to the root of the problem.” The last bit was a frustrated mumble.
“You’re right,” Janus had to agree, “but so far these things have been practically untraceable. We can’t even figure out when they’re from. The most we can do is see when they’re active.”
“This doesn’t make any sense,” Remus said.
“No it-” Yet, before Janus could finish, he was cut off by a shout.
 “Janus,” Patton’s voice called from the opposite side of the playground. “Hi!”
“Uh…” Janus said as he approached. “Hi.” He probably shouldn’t be too shocked to see Patton hanging around time distortions. He’d shown up at many of them before, but something about him showing up after the time distortion was already fixed threw Janus off. “We already dealt with time distortion…”
“Oh, good!” Patton said. “That’s good.”
“Yea-”
“So, I was actually wondering something.”
“Er, alright,” Janus said. There was a pause. “What?”
“Oh,” Patton said. “Um. You. Well, you once mentioned that you liked ballet.”
He hadn’t actually that he could remember, but he wouldn’t be surprised if a future version of him had. “Yes,” he said. “That’s true.”
 “Yeah,” Patton said. “Cool, so I have a… nephew who’s been getting into ballet. And I’m trying to learn more about it. I was wondering if you had any suggestions for things to see about ballet to help me, er, get a better idea about how… it… is. You know?”
Before Janus could think of a response, Remus spoke up. “You were a much better flirt in Cuba,” he remarked idly. Janus elbowed him harshly in the side.
“Hey, Remus, honey,” Patton said, glancing at him with a sweet smile. “I saw an interesting looking coffee shop down the road.” He started digging in his pocket. “If I give you money, would you mind getting us all something to drink.” He pulled a few bills out of his pocket.
“Yeah… okay,” Remus said with a smirk. “I see how it is.”
Patton just smiled at him and handed over the money.
“Have fun you two,” Remus said, turning on his heels and striding off.
 Janus glanced back at Patton once he was gone. “So, a nephew?” Janus asked.
Patton nodded. “Yep!”
“What exactly did you want to know?”
“Erm… I dunno,” Patton said. “I don’t know enough about ballet to know what to ask about ballet.”
“Well do you want to know more about the watching side or the dancing side.”
Patton bit his lip. “Well, I guess I’d like to know more about the watching side first,” he said. “Then maybe learn some basics about the dancing stuff if my nephew wants to dance.”
“Well, I actually do know more about watching ballet than participating, so that’s good.”
 Patton ended up pulling him over to sit on the swings even though there was a perfectly good bench at the edge of the playground. Janus talked a bit about ballet in general and then gave him a list of particular shows he liked. He did try to stick to the 21st century and before under the assumption that this nephew was from the same time as Patton. There was still plenty of things to talk about even with those restraints.
Patton seemed interested as he talked, pressing his face against the chain of the swing to look at him as he talked with a smile.
 They spoke about ballet for about 20 minutes before Remus eventually returned from the coffee shop.
“Thanks Remus,” Patton said, taking the cup he’d offered to him.
“No problem,” Remus replied, flashing a smile.
“Well,” Patton said, “thank you for the info Janus, but I really need to be going now.”
“Oh,” Janus said. “Okay.”
“See you soon!” he said, typing something into his timepiece and immediately disappearing without even checking his surroundings. He was lucky the playground was strangely empty today. He left his drink on the ground without taking a sip.
“Well,” Janus sighed once he was gone. “We should probably be getting back to the TPI anyway,” he said, taking a sip of the drink Remus had gotten him.
 “A London Fog?” Janus asked.
“It was the special,” Remus said, taking a sip of his own drink.
Janus shrugged. “We’ll finish these and head back,” he said. “The mission was shorter than expected anyway. They can deal with us being gone a couple of extra minutes.”
“Mhmm.”
Janus took another sip. “About the conversation from early,” he said.
“Uh, could we maybe talk about it later?”
“Remus, you’re my friend and clearly something is bugging you.”
“It’s nothing,” Remus said. “Really.”
“It’s clearly not ‘nothing,’ Remus.”
“I… well,” Remus said. “Maybe not, but let’s not talk about it right now. We’re on a mission.”
Janus snorted. “Remus, I’ve seen you drink on the job.”
“…Right,” Remus said. “But still. Things are busy. We should probably actually head back now.”
Janus sighed. “You’re probably right,” he agreed, “but really, we should talk sometime.”
“Sometimes,” Remus agreed, “just… not now.”
“Fine,” Janus said. “Ready?” Remus nodded and Janus pulled up his timepiece and pushing the correct button to get them back to decon. Remus copied him and they both were off.
 Chapter 60
Remus pretty much bolted out of decon to get away from Janus when he tried to talk to him again or at least ask if he could come by and talk to him after work. Janus felt a pit of worry start to grow in his gut. There was something wrong, but Janus didn’t know what. In fact, thinking back, maybe there had been something wrong for a while, but Janus had been too caught up in his own shit of a brain to properly address it.
He walked back to his office still thinking about it. Maybe he’d get Emile’s opinion on what to do.
 The lights flickered as he entered the hallway his office was in, and he paused. That was strange. Very strange.
He frowned, planning to message someone right away about whatever the fuck that was. It was one thing to be a chaotic mess of a time travel agency; it was another to literally not be able to keep the lights on. What was going on in this place?
He stepped into his office shaking his head. To his surprise, someone was already sitting at his desk.
“Virgil?” Janus asked, confused. “What are you doing here?” It wasn’t completely unheard of for someone in cultural outreach to come physically to the TPI, but usually agents went to them. It was more convenient to them and a bit more secure for the TPI.
 “Oh,” Virgil said in a tone that made Janus narrow his eyes and expect the dish washer not to be loaded. “Hey Janus. What are you doing here?”
“In my office?” Janus asked, glancing at Fred who had obviously let him in. Fred shrugged. Glad to know they had great security here.
“Right, yeah,” Virgil said. “It would be your office, huh?”
“…Yes?”
Virgil paused for a split second and took a breath to regroup. “I was actually looking for your partner.”
“Remus?” Janus asked. “Why?” Then he paused. “What on Earth did he do?”
“Nothing,” Virgil said. “Well, I mean… probably something knowing him, but that’s not why I’m here.”
“Probably,” Janus agreed. “I don’t know where he is right now though. He ran off when we got back from our last mission.”
“And you have no idea where he could have gone?”
“I actually would like to talk to him too,” Janus said. “So, if I did, I wouldn’t be here.”
“Chances he’ll come back to the office?” Virgil asked, hopefully.
“Very low since he’s avoiding me.”
“Great,” Virgil said, rubbing his temples. “That’s great. Why does this have to be physically difficult as well?”
“What exactly do you need with Remus?” Janus asked, noting the way Virgil was holding himself very tensely.
 “I just need to talk to him,” Virgil said.
“Yes,” Janus said. “About…?”
Virgil didn’t say anything. He just looked off to the side.
“Why is everyone acting weird today?” Janus said, almost to himself.
“I’m not!” said Fred from his corner.
Janus shot him an unamused look. “Thank you for your contribution to this conversation, Fred.”
“Look,” Virgil said, “can you just tell him I need to talk to him about something private the next time you see him?”
“What on Earth do you need to talk privately to Remus about?” Janus said.
“Just leave it, Janus,” Virgil said.
 He had his lips downturned in stern way that meant he was trying to hide something from Janus by feigning annoyance. Janus titled his head. “You two aren’t…”
“No! Ew!” Virgil said, looking disgusted. “He’s somehow the worst of two options which is saying something considering the French Toast.”
“What?”
“Nothing,” said Virgil. “Just, can I leave a note for him, or something?”
Janus paused, looking at him. Virgil squirmed under his gaze but didn’t seem like he was going to give in anytime soon. “Fine,” Janus finally relented. “You can leave a note on his desk. I’m not sure why you didn’t just email him.”
 “It’s an in-person type of conversation,” Virgil said, wringing his hands.
“Whatever you say,” Janus said, walking over to Remus’s desk and clicking the memo button that brought up a screen people who weren’t Remus could write on. “There you go,” he said.
“Thanks,” Virgil said with a relieved grin, clearly happy he was no longer being interrogated. He grabbed the stylus tied to the side of Remus’s desk. (If Janus hadn’t tied it there, it would be in Mesopotamia by now, he was sure.)
Janus turned to go back to his own desk.
“Wait,” said Virgil. “It isn’t working.”
 “What do you mean?” Janus asked. “It’s a note app.”
“It’s not tracking what I write,” Virgil said. He tapped the screen with his finger. “It’s not even responding.”
Janus leaned over to take a look for himself. He tapped it a few times and there was nothing, so he tapped it a bit more aggressively. A fuzzy line went across the screen and then it shut off abruptly.
“What is wrong with things in this office lately?” Janus asked with a frown.
“My stuff just froze too,” Fred said.
The door opened then, and Lena entered the room. “The coffee makers are all offline.”
 “What do you mean the coffee makers are offline?” Janus asked.
“I went to get some coffee for Fred and I and they’re not working. Any of them.”
“That’s odd,” Fred said.
“You know,” Virgil said, shifting nervously on his feet. “This seems like a bad time for me to be here. Why don’t I just come back another time or better yet, Janus, just tell Remus to come find me.”
“Yeah,” Janus agreed. “There’s a lot of things going on apparently, so it’s probably best if you leave.”
With that, Virgil brought up the time device he was using and pushed a couple of buttons to return to his university.”
 However, instead of disappearing like he was meant to do, he flickered once and then was immediately on his knees with his hand over his nose.
“Shit,” Virgil hissed.
“Are you okay?” Janus asked, kneeling next to him. There was blood coming from his nose which was concerning, but his eyes focused on Janus easily enough, though he looked very startled.
“I think I just hit the shield.”
“Is your timepiece not approved?” asked Janus, pulling on his arm to see the timepiece.
“I got it approved this morning,” Virgil said, taking a tissue Fred handed to him to press it to his nose. “It’s supposed to have access to the TPI all day. I used it not even 10 minutes ago.”
Lena was already on her own time device. She pushed a button and disappeared for a moment before appearing a couple of steps away. She stumbled and was caught by Fred. “Mine’s blocked too,” she said, “I only put in to go to the entrance of the building.”
That’s when the lights went out.
 Chapter 61
There was screaming from somewhere down the hall.
“Do you think that’s like when kids would scream when the teacher would turn out the lights in elementary school for a movie?” Virgil asked hopefully, voice a bit nasally since he was still holding his nose.
Janus gave him a tightlipped stare.
“Yeah,” Virgil said, “that’s what I was afraid of.”
Fred calmly reached over and shut and locked the office door.
“And what good is that going to do?” asked Virgil.
Fred glanced at him, already moving to shove Remus’s desk in front of the door. Janus instantly went to help him. “Gives us time to regroup.”
 “Or it locks us in,” Virgil argued.
Janus glanced over at him. “Don’t panic,” he said.
“The fuck do you mean, don’t panic?” Virgil asked, panicking, “Do you even know me?”
Janus sighed. “Fine,” he said. “Panic as much as you want but do it quietly.”
Virgil opened his mouth to speak.
“We know what we’re doing. You do not. Contributions from you that are only fears no matter how rational are not helpful at the moment.”
Virgil shut his mouth.
Janus turned Lena and Fred. “Okay, what do we know?”
“Malfunctioning coffee makers,” Lena said. “Malfunctioning tech in general really.”
 “And not just now,” Fred added, now working on barricading the window with the cabinet he kept his hot chocolate in. “There’s been issues with the whole system for a while now, and they’ve been getting worse.”
“Right,” Janus said. “I’d been blaming that on new recruits messing things up out of ignorance or IT not having enough time do normal maintenance, but if everything is down when the shields are malfunctioning, that implies something else.”
“Are the shields even malfunctioning?” Lena asked. “That implies something went wrong with the program, but what happened to Professor Eran and I is what it’s supposed to do to people who don’t have permission to cross them.”
 “So, the shields might be malfunctioning,” Janus said, “or someone went in and changed the permissions.”
“Considering the tech problems we’ve been having,” Lena said, “it’s possible someone’s been playing around in the TPI the system without knowing what they’re doing.”
“Or maybe they know exactly what they’re doing,” Janus suggested, “and they wanted to see our usual protocol for small issues before giving us a big one.”
There were a few moments of silence where they all were lost in thought.
“People are still screaming,” Virgil pipped in.
“Yes,” Janus confirmed. “This is obviously not just a virtual attack.”
 “Which should be the priority?” Lena asked. “The virtual attack or the physical one?”
“The virtual part will be complicated, and if we stabilize the building physically, we’ll have more time and have everyone safe,” Fred said, “but on the other hand the virtual attack is obviously what’s letting the physical attack persist. If people had access to time travel and communication, the physical attack wouldn’t matter.”
“I think-” started Janus, but he was cut off suddenly by a horrible screeching noise like metal on metal. The room they were in jolted like they were in a car that suddenly stopped and then the world was turning sideways, and they were all toppling as the floor became the wall. Janus landed on top of Virgil. Hopefully the blood now staining his shirt was from the man’s already bloody nose. “-we should probably start with the time anomaly attack!”
 Lena was a few feet away from him. She’d luckily been to the right of her desk, so she landed on top of it instead of it landing on top of her. Fred was a couple of feet away, already crouched. Judging by the state of the furniture around him, he’d had to dodge the cabinet he’d been putting over the window.
“What’s going on?” Virgil asked. Good, he was conscious after that.
“Time distortion,” Janus answered.
“What the hell type of time distortion is this?!” Lena exclaimed, holding one of her arms with the other. Janus couldn’t tell what type of injury she’d gotten.
 “One like the one Remus and I ran into in Cuba,” Janus said.
“So…” Fred said.
“I think we’ve finally found whoever has been mucking up time with time distortion devices. Or, more, I think they’ve found us.”
There were more screams from down the hall. “We can still hear other people in the building screaming,” Janus noted. “That’s good.”
“How is that good?” Virgil asked.
“That means the building is still connected to itself,” Janus explained. “Which, means that while the shields are screwed up, they’re still in place and keeping the building from being ripped apart and sent through time and space.”
 “Oh well that’s good at least,” Virgil said, sounding honestly a bit hysterical. He looked over at Janus. “If the building is intact, can’t we just leave? Just through the front door?”
The three time agents in the room exchanged a look.
“Well,” Fred said, “first of all, it’s probably not going to be that easy to get to the front door considering the screaming we’re hearing every so often.”
“Also, we wouldn’t be able to get out if we did make it to the door.”
“What?” Virgil asked. “Why not?”
“It’s kind of a secret that most people don’t know unless they’ve worked here a long time,” Janus said, “but the TPI headquarters isn’t exactly… in a place.”
 “What do you mean it’s not in a place?” Virgil asked. “I’ve seen the outside of the building. It’s on a normal street with restaurants and a park and all of that.”
“It’s really not though,” Janus said.
“It’s kind of floating,” Lena cut in. “Somewhere in deep space. The doors auto-teleport you the doors of a building on Earth which is why you think that it’s there.”
“The building’s a shell?” Virgil asked, flabbergasted.
“Yes, and unfortunately, without time travel being accessible, going out of the front door would be ill advised.”
There was a long pause as Virgil seemed to reboot. “We’re floating in space right now?!”
“Well,” Janus said. “We were always floating in space. You just didn’t know that.”
 “Great, yeah, nice, that’s great,” Virgil said, rubbing his temples.
“So,” Janus said, turning to Fred and Lena. “I think first we need to find whatever is sending out time quakes before they get worse. Then, we’ll figure out the rest along the way.”
“How are we going to find it though?” Fred asked. “It could be anywhere.”
“I’m not sure but standing in here isn’t going to get us anywhere,” Lena said.
“The closer we get the more chaos there will be,” Janus said. “Game of hot and cold with time distortions anyone?”
Lena and Fred nodded, but Virgil just looked queasy. Luckily, when the room had gone sidewise, the door had landed in a place still accessible enough with a bit of crawling.
 Fred and Lena had to pull the desk away from the door, but then they were able to cautiously open it. Fred poked his head out. “Seems clear,” he said. “Sideways, but clear.”
“Good,” Janus said.
Fred started slowly crawling out into the hallway and Lena went after him. Janus turned back to a very green looking Virgil. “You can stay here,” he said. Maybe go in the supply closet to prevent any more injury from falling office supplies. It won’t be comfortable, but it’ll be better. We’ll come get you when things are stable.”
Virgil nodded. Yet, right as Janus turned away to go follow Fred and Lena, there was another rubble and the ground shook. Virgil, still a bit wobbly on his feet from the last couple of falls tumbled down, but luckily the room’s walls stayed in their places.
Unluckily, the walls outside of the room didn’t. Looking through the office door one could see what was outside the room was very much not a hallway anymore, but a different room entirely. There was no Lena or Fred in sight. “You’ve got to be kidding,” Janus said to the universe.
 Chapter 62
“I thought you said the building was stable!” Virgil said.
“I said it’s not being ripped apart,” Janus corrected, “and it still isn’t. We’re still inside the headquarters. The rooms just got a bit… scrambled.”
“Great, great, fuck.”
“It’s fine, Virgil,” Janus said, though he himself was a bit worried. He knew if he showed that, however, Virgil would just panic more, and the last thing Janus needed at the moment was a panicking civilian, let along a panicking Virgil.
“It is not fine,” Virgil said. Luckily, he looked a bit pissed off at Janus’s flippant reply. Good. A pissed off Virgil was better than one having a panic attack.
 Janus just rolled his eyes, making Virgil bristle even more. “Well,” he said, “either way, I need to attempt to find what is causing this time distortion. Come with me or stay here, though I am unsure if the closet is a closet anymore.”
Virgil eyed the closet and then eyed Janus.
“Make your choice quickly though,” Janus cautioned, already steeping towards the open doorway.
He heard Virgil curse after a moment and then a hand was gripping Janus’s arm. He was coming with then.
They both climbed out of the sideways doorway into the room on the other side.
 “Where are we?” Virgil asked, still holding onto Janus’s sleeve. It reminded Janus of welcome week in their freshman year of college.
They’d been randomly assigned as roommates in the dorms. Janus had mostly ignored him the first day after small attempts at making conversation had failed miserably. He’d assumed the boy simply didn’t want to make friends, and Janus had taken that in stride, sure he could make friends elsewhere.
That lasted until that night when he’d found his roommate on the bathroom floor, dry heaving into the toilet. After figuring out that it was from nerves and not some drug his body was trying to desperately expel (Janus had been very glad he didn’t have to drag some dumbass to the hospital on his first day living away from home), he decided to take pity on the poor fool and socially adopted him.
 He'd been a nervous wreck during all of Welcome Weekend even with Janus’s literally leading him by the hand (and sometimes dragging him) to the many social events the university put on. He’d slowly calmed down, however being around a lot of people still sometime freaked him out. He’d warmed up to Janus quickly though and when they were alone, he’d come out of his shell.
He’d proved himself to be a witty, smartass, bastard as soon as he got over his crippling social anxiety. He’d matched Janus perfectly, honestly, and had always been around to help with homework, especially reading and writing. He’d also known more about how to clean himself and his environment more than most college freshman even if sometimes his anxiety had prevented him from using that knowledge appropriately.
 He'd actually managed to stop Janus from making poisonous gas in their apartment by mixing cleaning fluids in their junior year.
Janus glanced around them trying to answer the question of where they were. It was a medium sized room, about the size of the living room in his house and was mostly baren except for a large hollowed out circular desk with one gap for people to be able to walk through. Under the desk was a long line of old school computer towers humming softly with only a few centimeters between them. There was a mess of cords all over the place, connecting to different parts of the computers and thrown over parts of the desk.
 “I’m not sure where we are,” Janus admitted. “This is a pretty archaic set up. I’m not sure what it’d be used for.”
Virgil stepped forward towards the desk with a curious tilt to his head. He bent down to study one of the computers for a few moments. He squinted. “It’s not an archaic set-up. Well,” he amended. “It is, but it’s intentionally an archaic set-up. The techs current, it’s just put in a shell that looks old for some reason.”
“That’s odd,” Janus said.
Virgil pushed a button on the side of one of the towers and the machine started rumbling louder, lighting up Virgil’s face in a soft blue light as it did.
 Virgil stood as the computer tower next to it lit up the same the next moment and the one next to it the moment after that until all of the computers were on. Only after that did the top of the desk light up, a full 3-D hologram lighting up with Virgil inside.
Janus stepped through the gap in the desk to stand inside the hologram too.
He was met with a lock screen, but more worrying.
“Oh no,” Janus said.
“What?” Virgil asked, glancing at him.
“The date,” Janus said.
The date behind the prompt for the password read almost 10 years in the future of the year they were supposed to be in.
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emilyltang · 2 years
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3:40 AM thoughts
Jake ended up not being able to make it at the rest of the events we had discussed about which was a bummer. He leaves back to Indiana today. Probably will see each other again sometime in the winter during the holidays. Matching christmas pj's year 2?? haha jk.
It's been an eventful week. My mom said that I looked happier and was glad I was seeing my bestfriends Karen and Cathy often. I'm really working on strengthening these relationships and stepping away from dating. I do occasionally swipe when I'm restless at night but other than that I'm not actively pursuing or putting too much effort. I am giving up on the grind haha. Maybe something will naturally come my way.
06/30/2022: I woke up at 1 PM and then was feeling super tired so I went back to bed thinking I'd probably naturally wake up in an 1-2 hrs. Instead, I slept until 7 PM. Terri and Cat were super concerned about not hearing from me so they showed up to my HOUSE to force me to get up and eat something. Haha is it depression or a singular episode of hypersomnolence??
07/01/2022: Woke up pretty late as well probably 3 PM? Got ready and lounged around the house until Terri was up from her post-shift nap. We had KBBQ at Star for dinner. Kinda nostalgic going to that spot. We listened to our stomachs with stethoscopes to hear the digestion. Haha seriously bubbly stuff. After I went home and showered then got ready to go to the rewind event with Cat and her coworkers. I don't really remember anyone's name. Pregamed at Cat's and she asked me to bring lemonade and chasers. I was under the impression that her coworkers would be joining us too so I bought each person an individual lemonade bottle. RIP to just being us. The vibes at the club weren't it so we took a detour and uber'ed over to Hopscotch in Fullerton! It was such a fun time! Ended up running into Nick and caught up with him for a bit. It's been a few years. We dated when I was 18-19 almost 20 ish?? Definitely very different people now obviously. It was fun bringing up inside jokes that we forgot existed. Cat and I met a guy at the bar and turns out his friend ditched him. I noticed they were kinda into each other so I did my best to be a background character. Nice dude drove us home. Cat wasn't paying attention and accidentally routed us to an address in Westminster. I asked him if he could just drop me off at my house since it was nearby and that I would have my brother take me to get my car at Cat's tomorrow. I def do not want to be the 3rd wheel in this situation. Awk for me to be on the couch sleeping while hearing them banging lol.
07/02/2022: I packed up extra clothing, toiletries, and things I needed to stay at Karen's for the weekend (again hehe). This time by popular request I brought Butters along with me. He was such a good dog! So mild tempered and friendly. Everyone who lives with Karen has been so stressed out because of their summer associate jobs. This day we went to The Grove to eat at the Farmer's Market. Invited Julius because he's new to LA and wanted to make some friends so I've been inviting him to things! I can't say that I'm interested because of his mannerisms that give me the ick. At the end of the night, we started on making jello shots for the July 4th party with all the housemates. When everyone left, I stayed up watching Stranger Things and finished season 1!
07/03/2022: I wasn't planning to get up at 12 for brunch with Karen and Nicoletta since I slept at 5 am. But, I did and don't regret it! We went to Urth Cafe and it was lovely catching up with Nicoletta. The last time we saw each other was also around Christmas break as well. We found a Glossier store down a block so we headed over and tested/bought some products. Got back to the house at around 4:00 PM and watched about an hr and half of Hotel Hell with Nicoletta before she headed out. Karen and I took a nap until 5:00 PM which was when Cathy came over. We played with Butters, took him for a walk, and lounged in the couch talking about things that happened during the day and week then ordered SugarFish to go. We continued to make jello shots but all of a sudden Butters started to dry heave and I had to do the doggy heimlich maneuver to help him throw up. Then he had diarrhea from separation anxiety from me. Poor baby, Cathy and I dropped him back off at his owners place since we didn't want him to accidentally eat anything that fell off of people's plates at the 4th of July party. Took around 45 mins to get into OC to drop him off then after I picked up Terri to get dessert with us. After we went back to her house to watch Stranger Things. Cat ended up sleeping over at Terri's but I went home because I was too tired. Also didn't want to drive another 45 back to LA.
07/04/2022: Got up around 1 PM, got ready, picked up Terri, then picked up an order Karen made at an OC weed dispensary. I got myself to 10 mg hybrid gummy edibles. It's been a while since I had purchased any weed. Def will be helpful with my anxiety and restlessness at night. Then drove to Karen's in LA. It's 4:14 AM now and I'm feeling too tired to go into detail about the party. I'll do it tomorrow and add photos!!
Goood night
06/05/2022
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krystlind · 2 years
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healing the “always the next”
I notice I’m always thinking of where I need to be next, or where/what else next will make me happy. when I’m sitting on the bed, i’m fantasizing of how “being at farmers market tomorrow” will make me happy. earlier today, when I was sitting at Radio Bar reading, instead of fully being there, I was thinking of me at Target. while at Target I was pretty present, choosing stuff (maybe that’s why I actually do take a little longer and am inefficient) but I was thinking about being at home and getting ready. 
I catch myself always lurching into these hypothetical future moments, borrowing serotonin from there, because for some reason this present is dull of it. and now that I notice that, I see that she is trying to keep me happy. thank you. I see you. we are going to let you rest. 
It’s so beautiful that I’m waking up to this, and I am bringing healing of that “lurching” behavior, and I am wanting to instill back presence in my life. thank you. 
it’s so beautiful that I’m learning to talk to myself gracefully, instead of just harshly. it’s so beautiful that I’m forgiving myself for this.
it’s so beautiful that I”m being protected and guided, even if I don’t feel like it.
it’s so beautiful that I am the daughter of the Highest King, and he loves me very much, and loves me just for being me, not doing anything.
i see that I also go to “the next” because of scarcity and need of security, making sure I don’t falter, my “house of cards” don’t fall. they are not a house of cards. don’t you know that the Lord got you here, not on your own strength.
it’s so beautiful that I am entitled to a life where I’m not always thinking of "the next” - that perhaps, just perhaps, I am completely allowed to be, just here.
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venustkiller · 2 years
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|freeze your brain| riff
chapter two || can i call ya johnny?
Tumblr media
words: 1816
triggers: blood
previous || next
Monday, August 11, 1951
It had been a few days since I met the mysterious Jet at the gas station. I keep on thinking back to him and his gray-blue eyes, orbs of ocean that I can't help but drown in. Melissa keeps telling me he's trouble and I know she is right, but maybe trouble isn't always a bad thing? From what Valentina says, the Jets hang out in and around Doc's frequently and she has had a history with Riff causing trouble and not paying for candy bars; primarily Milky Way's. Unfortunately for me, there was no denying how handsome he is, and it was hard for me to not try to spot him out in the crowd of Jets whenever I see them running around the streets.
It was about ten in the morning when I decided to roll out of bed. I could smell bacon and eggs from the kitchen; Melissa has always been skilled in the art of cooking. I went to my closet and searched for a set of clothes to put together for the day, settling on ripped jeans, a plain short-sleeve shirt, sneakers, and a thin loose flannel. After picking my outfit, I laid them out on my bed and jumped into the shower, getting myself ready for the day. Melissa wanted me to go grocery shopping today for her while she was at work since it's my day off. She even offered to pay for the food which I had no problem with. Maybe if I have money left over, I can stop by the gas station for a slushie.
Once I had gotten ready, my watch read that it was now eleven-thirty, I guess I never noticed how long it takes for me to get ready. When I entered the kitchen, I saw Melissa had already left for work. On the counter were a plate of eggs, bacon, and a note with money beside it. In her perfect pretty writing, it read, "went to work early. Don't forget the milk!"
I smiled and put the money in my pocket before sitting down and eating my breakfast, man was she a good cook. It makes me wonder why she decided to go into police work instead of working as a chef. I shrugged my shoulders to myself and finished up my food. I put my dirty plate in the sink and walked over to the front door. I patted myself down to make sure I had everything before grabbing my keys and heading out, locking the door before I went. I made my way out of the apartment complex and began my walk towards downtown where the local farmers market was held.
Just a minute or two into my walk, I began to pass the community center; that's when I heard screams. Most people would turn the other way but for some stupid reason, I run towards the sounds of pain. The shouts echo and surround my ears in waves with the wind, howling as it guides me behind a concrete building. I come to meet a chain-link fence and on the other side of it is where the screams were coming from. Huddled on the ground are a group of men, about three, and they appear to be Puerto Rican. They are surrounding whoever is screaming; it seems to be a boy a bit younger than me. I could see him thrash around, trying to break free of their torture.
Without thinking, I shout. "Hey!"
I reach up and hook my fingers against the chain, pulling myself up as I begin to climb the fence. The men didn't even give me a passing glance, too focused on the task at hand. Once I got over the top, I jumped down and raced towards the men. Not having a plan of action in my mind, I use all my strength and shove one, causing him to land on another one of his buddies. He yelled in anger before he even looked at me; once he did he stopped himself.
"The fuck do you think you're doing? Get out of here or I will call the cops!" I threatened, causing them all to stand up and walk towards me.
I wasn't sure if they knew what I was saying, but the man I shoved got a little too close for my liking. He was seething, his expression one that made me nervous. I could practically see the smoke coming from his nose like a dragon and I had a feeling his face would be forever etched in my mind. Once I determined he understood what I said, I swung, my fist landing squarely on his scruffed jaw. He exclaimed in pain and tried to lunge forward at me, and I assume he was cursing at me in Spanish. Before he could touch me, however, one of the other guys stopped him, saying something to him before they all walked away. I'm glad they did, there was no way I could've taken them on.
What was I thinking?
Once they left my sight I rushed over to the boy on the ground. He was on his side, almost in a fetal position. I crouched down to him and got on my knees, "Hey are you okay?" I asked, taking notice of the nail sticking out from his bleeding ear. It was large and dirty, they must have found it laying on the ground. He had dark black hair and a pale face with some dirt smudged on his cheek. I wonder when the last time he had a bath was.
He looked up at me, removed his hands from his head, and quickly sat up, he seemed breathless, "I- I'm okay".
Liar.
I chuckled and rolled my eyes, "No you're not, come with me and I'll fix you up," I urged
"I'm fine," he assured with a huff, trying to seem tough. He started to walk past me, probably to get back home or something.
I quickly grab hold of his arm, keeping him in place. We were now standing next to each other, and he had a look of anger.
"C'mon kid, let me help ya out. This isn't a request," I say a bit firmer, looking at him. He was just a few inches shorter than me, and it looked like he hadn't graduated high school yet.
"Fine," he caved. I let go of his arm and turned, gesturing to him to follow me. The walk from here to the farmer's market wouldn't take long; about five to ten minutes. As we made our way there, I made sure to ask him about how he got in that situation.
"So, what happened?" I ask, spotting the street market in the distance, seeing many colorful stands filled with fruit and produce galore.
"I don't really think that's any a'ya business," he retorted
"Considering I'm offering to clean you up and not report this to the cops, I think so," I chuckled, but it wasn't in a laughing manner.
"Just Jet stuff," he sighed, putting his hands in his pockets.
We arrived at the farmer's market and I led him to the nearest shop I saw that sold water, "I figured that, I see you guys running around all the time." I bought a water bottle and led the boy out of the market and into an alley where there were a few tires he could sit on.
He sat down and I crouched down in front of him, beginning to inspect his ear. With my finger, I gently pushed his chin so he'd turn his head to give me a better view. It was bleeding badly, the nail was so grimy, covered in dirt, dust, and rust; it will no doubt get infected.
"Well yeah, this is our turf," he said confidently, like this was a known fact to everyone.
"Is it? Hold still, I'm gonna pull it out," I warned. I took my index finger and thumb and held his earlobe firmly. With the other hand, I pinched the nail and pulled quickly, earning a jump and shout of discomfort from the boy.
"Sorry," I apologized, throwing the nail on the ground and quickly moving to get the water bottle. I cupped one hand below his ear and with the other, I waterfall the water onto his ear, cleaning the blood.
"So, what's your name?" I ask curiously, wondering if he had just as a creative name as Riff.
"Baby John," he answered cautiously, as if me knowing his name could do him harm. Being as gentle as I could, I began to rub his ear to get any dirt and crusted blood still stuck in the hole.
"You mind if I call ya Johnny?" I ask. The baby part was right, I don't think I've seen a Jet younger than him. I guess he's the baby of the group.
He shrugged, "I don't care”
I realized that I needed some sort of cloth to pat down his ear. I looked around and turned to myself, remembering I was wearing a flannel. I quickly took it off and I found myself an edge, pulling and tearing the fabric apart. I doused one half with the water and left the other side dry. I wrapped the red cloth neatly and handed it to Johnny. He took it and began to press it to his ear.
"So who are those guys?"
"Sharks," he answered, a spiteful tone coming out as he said so, a tongue laced with anger and aggression.
"I'm assuming they're part of a Puerto Rican gang?" I ask, trying to put the pieces together in my head to tell a coherent story.
He nodded his head with a hum, "They're not welcome here in our territory. We wanted to teach 'em a lesson".
"It looks like they taught you one instead," I laughed sympathetically.
"Oh no, I'm sure the other Jets gave 'em what they deserve. These guys just ganged up on me cuz I'm the smallest," he assured me with such fierce confidence that even I believed him.
"Anyways," he continued, noticing that I had finished cleaning his ear, "I should get back to them now, they must be looking for me," he said standing up hastily; I followed in suit.
"Sure"
"Uh, thanks for cleaning my ear," he said, looking at me a bit awkwardly. I could tell he wasn't used to thanking people much.
"No problem Johnny. Don't be a stranger okay?" I offered with a smile.
He simply nodded his head with a small smile and turned on his heel, making a run to wherever he figured the other Jets would be. I watched him run off and once I could no longer see him, I made my exit as well.
Shit, I still need to go shopping.
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Text
Seasons of Med: Season 2 and Seasons of PD: Season 4: Necessities, Love, & Care (A Halstead Brothers + Halstead Sister! Imagine)
Your age: 15
Jay's age: 29
Will's age: 31
You were currently sitting at the library, trying to figure out how you'd get food for dinner. It was January and you had run out of your Christmas money two weeks ago and you had burned through your money from helping with kettle corn at the beginning of December. Right now you were SOL: Shit outta luck.
Your mind wandered back to the last day you had helped working the kettle corn stand when it was a dreary late October day.
"We have kettle corn, caramel corn, cheddar, Chicago style, and a few other flavors," you explained to a customer. She picked up a medium bag of caramel corn. "That one?"
"Yes, dear. Me and my husband love this stuff," the old lady said.
"I'm sure. It's really good! It'll be six dollars." She pulled out a five and two ones. "I'll be right back with your change."
"Oh, no, keep the change, dear. Thank you for the popcorn."
"You're welcome. Have a nice day."
"Y/N," Emma said to you. "Can you grab me a lemonade from the cooler?"
"Just one?"
"Yup, just one."
You grabbed it from the cooler and were about to pass it to her when you saw who her customers were: Jay and Erin.
"Y/N?" Jay asked. "What are you doing here?"
"Working," you answered quickly. "Little bit of extra money never hurt anybody. The real question is, what are you doing here? I know Erin hates being outside when the weather is crappy."
"It's because he's annoying when he whines and begs to do something, so I figured it was just best to give in," Erin answered.
Jay rolled his eyes. "God, I can't win with either of you. Why do you always gang up on me?"
"Because, Halstead, us girls gotta stick together," Erin laughed.
"Okay, okay, fine. Y/N, what popcorn should I get?"
"First of all, it's kettle corn," you corrected. "And, I suggest the cheddar. Or, if you want a combination of both salty and sweet, then get the Chicago style. It's cheddar and caramel."
"Me and Erin like sweet, but I know you. You like cheddar. And you'll pick out the cheddar pieces when you're at my apartment, so I'll get the Chicago style."
"Or," Erin started as she picked up a large bag of caramel and a large bag of cheddar, "We could get this big bag of caramel, and then you could have this bag at your apartment for Y/N. That way the flavors aren't touching."
"Erin Lindsay and not liking her food touching. Fine, we'll take what Erin suggested and one lemonade."
"One or two straw holes?" Emma asked, picking up the lid-punching tool.
"One's fine," Jay answered.
"They swap enough spit as it is," you whispered to Emma, causing her to laugh.
"What'd she say?" Jay asked.
"I can't tell you. It's a secret."
He huffed. "Fine. Keeping secrets from your big brother? That's cold Y/N, that's cold."
"So you're saying you never kept secrets from Will?" Erin asked.
"I have the right to remain silent."
"Exactly," Erin said. "How much does he owe you?"
"Excuse me? I didn't know I'd be the one paying for all of this."
"You were the one who dragged me outside, so yes, you are paying, Halstead. Now, get your card ready."
Jay rolled his eyes and pulled out his wallet. "How much?"
You did the math in your head. "$23."
"Emma, can you check her math?" Jay asked and you rolled your eyes in his lack of faith in you.
"$10 for the cheddar and $8 for the caramel makes $18...plus $5 for the lemonade...yup $23."
You handed him the card reader. "And now it's just going to ask you a few questions," you told him after his card went through.
Without allowing him to read it all the way through, Erin hit the tip and no receipt buttons. "Hey!" Jay exclaimed.
"Don't blame me! You were the one who wanted me to come out here!" She turned to you and took the bag of kettle corn as Jay picked up the 32 oz lemonade. "Thanks, Y/N!"
"No problem! Just make sure he doesn't buy any more paintings of motorcycles!"
Man, how you wished you could work that job right now because it was only for a few hours on the weekends. But, it was winter now, so there were no street fairs, farmers markets, or festivals going on. Because of this, your money had run out. You'd have to do what you'd have to get yourself some food, even if it would leave you with a guilty conscience.
With that in mind, you got up and left the library.
***
"Pop's been complaining of chest pain and refuses to go to the hospital," Jay told his older brother as he walked through the front door and into the living room.
"Of course he did," Will grumbled. Then, he turned to his father. "This won't take long. Unless it's bad. Then you'll have to come with me and actually go to the hospital this time."
"You can't force me to do anything," he argued as he watched his oldest son open up his medical bag.
"Just let him do his job. He knows what he's doing," Jay agreed with Will. Then, he remembered something. "Where's Y/N?"
"At school."
"At school? At 5 pm?" Jay asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Sometimes she stays after school and does homework. She's always home before it gets too late so I don't ask."
It's not like Jay and Will could have known this, though. Yes, you would talk and they're obviously there for you because they're your brothers, but your dad's parenting skills--or lack thereof--hadn't ever come up. You'd get together with your brothers once a week, but it was usually at one of your brothers' places. They rarely came inside your and your dad's place.
"All units, we have reports of a robbery at 3020 East Main Street. Assistance requested," Jay's radio stated.
Jay looked to Will, silently asking if it was okay for him to take it. "I've got it from here."
"Thanks, man," Jay said, clapping Will on the back and leaving the house.
He drove to the small corner market that had made the call. It was only a block away from where you and your dad lived, but despite it usually being somewhat slow, today it was even slower. There was only one car parked in the lot, so Jay was confused as to who would even rob this place.
He put on his vest and walked into the store. "Got a call about a robbery," he said to the store manager as he entered.
"Yes, right over here."
He led Jay over to where a girl was sitting on a stool, tears rolling down her face. She held a box of pasta, a loaf of bread, and a small jar of peanut butter. Her coat was unzipped, revealing the tampons and pads she had stuffed inside her coat after she had ripped open the box.
"Y/N?" Jay asked in disbelief. "What are you doing? What were you even thinking?"
"I- I'm sorry," you sniffled.
Then he turned to the store manager. "You called the cops on a fifteen-year-old girl for grabbing what looks to me like necessities?"
"I've let her go the past two times when she needed things, but today she didn't have the money, so I couldn't let it slide."
Jay threw $30 in the man's hand. "There. Now it's all paid for." He turned to you and took the loaf of bread. "C'mon."
You followed him out of the store, waiting to be yelled at as you entered his truck, but it didn't come. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he handed you the bread. "Why? Why did you do this?"
"There- There's barely any food in the house. I was just hungry."
Jay looked you up and down. He hadn't been really looking for changes in weight like he told Natalie he would do six months ago. He kept it up for a few months and then winter came around and it was hard to tell because of bulky jackets and sweaters. But, now that he actually looked at your face and hands in an investigative manner, it was clear as day: You had lost even more weight.
"And the other stuff?" he asked.
"Dad won't buy them for me. Says that they're too expensive and to just use something else. He said that if he had had a son he wouldn't have to worry about it, like it's my fault. Usually, I take some from school, but I ran out and I needed them."
"And the food?" Jay asked as he started driving back to his childhood home.
"I get breakfast and lunch at school, but I have to eat dinner at home. And on weekends I just skip meals and eat breakfast and dinner."
"What? What about Dad?"
"He gets takeout or he goes to the bar and isn't home until late."
Jay sighed as he pulled into the driveway. "Go pack a bag, kid. You're staying at my place until further notice."
"Really? I thought you guys forgot about me?"
"We could never forget about you. It's just, work has been busy for both of us. So, sorry if these last few times we've all been together for dinner have seemed a little rushed. Now, go inside and grab your stuff while I have a chat with Will and Dad."
"Dad, Will," Jay said after you had run upstairs and they were sitting on the couch. "I need to talk to you. In the kitchen."
"Really, Jay. Why can't it be here?" your dad grumbled. "First he--" He pointed to Will. "Wants to take me to the hospital because he said I have a valve issue and now I can't even have a conversation with my sons while sitting down?"
"Just get up, dammit!"
The three entered the kitchen and sat down, but Jay stayed standing. "Jay, what's going on?" Will asked.
Instead of answering his older brother, Jay just opened the fridge. There was a half drank gallon of milk, a jar of grape jelly, and a can of pasta sauce, along with other condiments, and a lone egg sat on a shelf. "This? This is what you expect your daughter to eat? I caught her stealing from a store just so she could get food and tampons!"
"Well, I'm not gonna pay for it."
"Excuse you?" Will exclaimed, eyebrows raised in surprise. "What do you mean you're not paying for it? She's your daughter, isn't she? Then you have a legal responsibility to feed her, make sure she has shelter, clothes, and goes to school!"
"She can go get a job."
"She is fucking fifteen!" Jay yelled. "She doesn't need to be worrying about where her next meal is coming from! She's supposed to be worrying about getting a good grade on a math test or if that boy likes her or not, but not that!"
"She needs to learn to grow up someday. And she won't if you boys baby her like you always do whenever you see her."
"Baby her?" Will yelled, disgusted. "She's a kid. She needs to be babied sometimes. She needs fucking food and a nice home to come home to, not whatever the hell you think this is."
"It hasn't been a home since your mother died."
"Yeah, we gathered that," Jay scoffed. "But you don't have to take it out on her."
"Jay," your small voice said from the doorway into the kitchen. All three men looked over to you, your backpack on your back, a duffle bag slung over your shoulder, and your favorite blanket wadded up in your hands so that you could carry it without it dragging on the ground.
"Ready to go?" Jay asked, his voice immediately softening.
"Uh, yeah," you answered, unsure of how your dad would react.
"What do you mean ready to go?" Pat Halstead asked, standing up from where he had been previously sitting at the table. "She's not going anywhere!"
Will rushed over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder while Jay stalked over to be face to face with your dad. "She is coming with me until further notice. You're lucky I don't arrest your ass for child neglect!"
"You wouldn't do that to your own father!"
Jay pulled the cuffs out of his back pocket. "Oh yeah? Try me."
He sat back down and Jay turned to you. "Here, let me take that." You handed him your duffle bag and followed him and Will outside.
"Jay, I gotta go. I gotta get Dad to Med to get the valve fixed. And, I said one hour out of the hospital tops and it's been two."
Jay closed the truck door once you were safely inside with all your stuff. "Good luck trying to get Dad to go the hospital," he scoffed. "Get going. Don't give Goodwin another reason to fire your stupid ass."
"I'll call an ambulance if I have to." Then, Will smacked Jay upside the head.
"Ow! What was that for?"
"You know what it was for. And, I'm your older brother, it's my job."
"I'm your older brother, it's my job," Jay mocked. "But, in all seriousness, do me a favor and make sure Y/N's all caught up on her immune- immune--"
"Immunizations?" Will laughed.
"Yeah, those."
"I'll do that. And if she's not, I'll give them to her tonight when I come over to your place after my shift is done...which will be in like two hours...depending on how much of a pain in the ass he is to get in the hospital."
Jay nodded, and then got in the truck, both of you making your way to his place.
"I'm gonna go take a shower," Jay said after you had put your stuff down by the couch. "You have homework?"
"Yeah," you looked down, not wanting to even try and struggle through your homework...or have Jay sign the slip that said that you failed your last test.
Jay smiled. "I'll help you with it when I'm out of the shower, okay, kid?"
"How'd you know--"
"That is the universal facial expression of I need help, but I don't know how to ask for it. I'll be ten minutes tops."
And so, you tried to struggle through your homework for ten minutes. But, you ended up working and reworking the stupid algebra problem. Why did math need letters anyway?
"Okay, I'm back," Jay said as he pulled a chair out to sit next to you. "What are you workin' on?"
"Can you sign this first?" you asked, sliding the yellow paper over to him along with the pen. You hoped he'd just sign it blind, but as you saw his eyes skimming the page, you knew that wouldn't happen.
"Did you try your best?" he asked as he slid the piece of paper back to you after signing it.
"What? Yeah, of course, I did."
"Okay, then we'll figure something out. Now, how about we eat some dinner? I've got pizza in the freezer. That okay?"
"That's great," you answered.
Jay got the pizza in the oven while you went and changed into your pajamas. You decided it was in your best interest to have Will help you with your math homework.
***
"Ah! The man of the hour!" Jay exclaimed as he pulled out the pizza and Will entered the house.
You immediately noticed the red bag he was carrying over his shoulder and the two king-sized Twix bars.
"Why do you have your medical bag?" you asked.
"How did you know this was my medical bag?"
"I'm not stupid, Will."
"Okay, so you're all caught up on your shots, but I need to do a blood draw because I need to see if you're deficient in any vitamins and minerals. Have you been eating enough fruits and veggies?" he asked.
"Probably not as much as I should," you admitted. "They're too expensive unless I get the canned kind and I don't like those unless it's canned peaches. I'm sorry."
"It's okay, Short Stack. None of this is your fault. You hear me? None of it. I just need to take the blood and then get it sent to the lab to see if you need to get any specific pills to get your vitamin and mineral levels up."
"Okay. Does it hurt?" you asked. You knew what a shot felt like, but you'd never had your blood drawn before, so you didn't know what it felt like to have a needle in your arm for a long time, taking blood. You knew what it felt like to have an IV in from when you passed out at the movie theater, but you didn't know if this needle would be the same size or bigger.
"You just feel a slight pinch at the beginning."
"Like getting a shot?"
"Like getting a shot," he confirmed.
"Hey, I was thinking," Jay started as he reappeared from the kitchen area, "what if we have celery and carrots with ranch for dinner, too? You know, like when we eat chicken wings at restaurants and they bring you some veggies, except we'll have ours with pizza."
"Okay," you agreed. "I like ranch."
"So does everyone in the midwest," Will joked.
"What's the medical bag for?" Jay asked. "She needs shots? And, what's with the Twix bars?"
"No, I'm drawing her blood to see if she's deficient in anything. And, there's one Twix bar for her and one for you because we all know how you feel about needles, Jay."
Jay rolled his eyes. "We doing this before we eat?"
"Yes. And, I need you to answer some questions for me, Y/N. These are strictly doctor protocol questions, okay? You don't need to be embarrassed about any of the answers."
You nodded.
"Okay," Will started, "When did you last eat? Just need to write it down for fasting glucose levels."
"Um, lunch at school, so around noon."
"So, six-hour fast," Will scribbled down on a piece of paper. "Next one, are you sexually active?"
"Will!"
"It's just standard protocol, just in case I need to test for STDs."
"No, I am not. Next question."
"Okay, last one: When was your last period?"
"You've got to be kidding me. I'm not pregnant, I haven't had sex!"
Will chuckled. "It's not for that. Sometimes when people are deficient in vitamins and minerals, they can lose their period for months at a time, signaling that their body isn't healthy. The medical term is amenorrhea." But, what he wanted to say was that when girls are underweight, this can also happen. And, from seeing how baggy your sweatshirt and jeans were on you, he assumed that you'd lost ten pounds since last going to the doctor when you passed out in the movie theater parking lot, making your weight loss a grand total of 25 pounds, which would qualify you as being underweight.
"Oh. I started today."
"Okay, good to know. Any changes in length or heaviness of menstruation?"
"I swear, I'd rather have Natalie or April be asking me these questions," you grumbled. "But, yes, it's a lot lighter and it went from me having my periods for five days to two days. Can we please stop talking about this now?"
"Yeah, we're all done. Sorry about that, but it's protocol."
"Says the guy who's drawing my blood at Jay's apartment instead of in a hospital, where it should be done."
"Hey, I've worked in much worse conditions than this in Sudan. How much water did you drink today?"
"A lot."
"Okay, good." Will started to unzip his medical bag. He passed a Twix bar to Jay. "Here, eat this and focus on it so you don't focus on the needles and then freak out."
Jay rolled his eyes, but took the candy bar and unwrapped it.
"Do I get one?" you asked.
"Once I draw your blood, yes, the other one is for you. Now, right or left arm?"
You held out your left arm and Will moved to the other side of you so he had a better angle. He sanitized his hands and then snapped on a pair of gloves.
"So, what do you do?" you asked. "I've never had my blood drawn before."
"I just tie off your arm so that I can get the veins to show a bit better, wipe down the spot with an antiseptic wipe, stick the needle in, and then wait for the vial to fill up."
"That's it?"
"That's it. Can you make a fist with your left hand for me?"
You did as Will told you and then he tied a band around your bicep and started touching the inside of your elbow, trying to get some veins to show. He furrowed his eyebrows and moved down your arm, rubbing your forearm and then going back up to the crook of your elbow and gently pressing there.
"What's wrong?" you asked.
"You just have really small veins is all. I could take the blood from the big vein in your forearm, but I don't really want to do that one since it's so big. Can you squeeze your fist tighter for me?" You did as he said while he kept pressing on the crook of your elbow. "There we go. Got one. Now, turn and look at Jay while I get the needle ready."
You looked at Jay and tried not to laugh. "You okay?"
"Me? I should be asking you that," he replied. "You're the one who's about to get stabbed with a needle."
"It's just that you got some sweat on your forehead. You look nervous."
"They're needles. They're tiny little sharp metal objects and if one breaks off--"
"Jay, respectfully," Will started, cutting off his brother, "shut the hell up, so you don't scare my patient. You might just want to look away instead of watching me. Then you might feel fine." Then, he turned back to you. "Okay, Y/N, keep looking at Jay. Close your eyes if you want to. You're going to feel a small pinch."
You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Then, you squeezed your eyes shut tightly and grit your teeth, trying not to yell out as the needle pierced your skin.
"Hard part's done," Will said. You nodded, still keeping your eyes closed.
"That was not a small pinch," you retorted about a minute later.
"Sorry."
You opened your eyes and watched as the blood flowed from your vein into the small tube that was hooked up to the needle.
"I thought you hated blood," Jay pointed out. "And here you are, watching the entire process."
"I'm fine when it's my blood if it's not a huge, deep cut," you explained. "It's other people's blood I don't like."
"Well, that takes any job in the medical field off your career choices," Will said.
You sat there for a few more minutes, waiting for the vial to fill up. Will pressed on your arm, close to the needle, to see if more would come out. "This vein is really small," he said.
You watched as the blood coming into the tube started becoming slower and slower, in what looked to be bubbles.
"Just a little more," Will muttered.
You started taking deeper breaths as you felt sweat start to bead on your forehead.
"Okay, let's see how much this gave me." He pressed his thumb above where the needle was and you turned back to Jay as he removed the needle.
Then, he got the blood into the vial. "Bad news," he started, "I might need to take more. Let's see how much extra there is." He put the extra into another, smaller vial. "Yeah, this one clotted too, so bad news, we need more."
You nodded and closed your eyes, feeling your face get hot and starting to feel lightheaded. You pinched the bridge of your nose, willing this uncomfortable feeling to go away.
"You doing okay?" Will asked.
"Yeah," you answered.
"Okay, I'm gonna do your right arm this time." You held your right arm out to him. "Make a fist for me." You did as he told you and he tied the blue band around your bicep.
But, you were getting even dizzier. "Actually, can I get some water? I feel dizzy."
"Course," Will said. "Jay, can you get her some water and juice if you have any?"
"Apple juice good?"
"That's fine," you answered.
Will untied the band from your bicep. "We're just going to wait a few minutes until you feel less dizzy before I take more blood, okay?"
You nodded and took the water from Jay when he came back.
"Let's have the juice after I finish," Will suggested after a few minutes had passed and you finished the water. "Feeling better, Short Stack?"
"Yeah, let's get this over with." Your forehead was still a bit sweaty, but you were a lot less dizzy.
Will repeated the same process as the last arm and it went a lot faster. Turns out he picked a bit bigger vein in the crook of your elbow of this arm than he did the other one.
"And, we're done," Will said as he capped the vial.
He handed you the juice. "Thanks," you said. "That was not fun."
"I bet. At least you didn't pass out. I've had a few patients do that when I went through my clinicals. That's why normally when someone gets their blood drawn, they sit in this chair where something is flipped down in front of them so they don't fall out of the chair just in case they pass out."
"Jay, do you pass out?" you asked.
He scoffed. "No. I don't even get dizzy. My body doesn't react like that."
"He just breaks out into a sweat whenever he sees needles," Will whispered, loud enough for Jay to hear.
"Hey! I heard that! Take one more jab at me and you won't be getting any pizza, Will. I mean it!"
Will held his hands up in a mock surrender while you finished up your juice. Then, Will started to pack up his medical stuff and Jay brought the pizza and veggies and ranch out, along with plates of course.
You ate your pizza while Will helped you with your math homework. Once you finished two slices of pizza and some celery and ranch, you said that you were done.
"You sure?" Jay asked. "You can have as much as you want."
"I'm good. Gotta save some for tomorrow." Your eyes widened as you realized what you had just said. "I'm gonna go take a shower. It's been a long day."
"Okay, clean towels are in the cabinet in the bathroom where they always are," Jay said, trying not to react to what you had just said even though he knew exactly what you were doing.
You were rationing food.
"Fuck," Jay said as he put his head in his hands when he knew you were in the bathroom and out of earshot.
"What? What did she mean by gotta save some for tomorrow?" Will asked.
"She's rationing it. I used to do it in Afghanistan. Save some of my MRE and put it in my pack to eat the next day if I was on a long trek and we knew we wouldn't get back to base. It would be cold and usually disgusting, but I'd choke it down because it was calories and I needed fuel to be sharp in case we came in contact with combatants."
"Poor kid. At least we had Mom."
Jay nodded. "What happened with Dad at the hospital?"
"Had to have a mitral valve replacement because his wasn't working properly. Told him over and over to get his checked regularly, but he didn't because he's stubborn. He went for the non-surgical option first, but then there were complications, so Rhodes performed surgery. He's fine."
"That's good... I guess." Jay glanced around and he saw your duffle bag sitting outside the bathroom door. You had grabbed your clothes to bring them into the bathroom and left your open duffle bag by the door.
Jay stood up and started walking towards it.
"What are you doing?" Will hissed.
"I need to see if she's got anything else in there that will help prove neglect. I'm assuming it needs to be proved...I only know criminal court cases, don't know much about family court cases."
"What do you mean family court? You're going to fight Dad to be able to take care of her?"
"Yeah, I'll fight to be her legal guardian. Unless you want to do it. My loan went through for a new apartment, which has two bedrooms, so I figured I might be better suited."
"Go ahead. You'd probably have a better chance anyway because you were around more when I was in New York."
Jay nodded and started to dig around your duffle bag. He chuckled and pulled out your Build-A-Bear. "She still sleeps with Beary," he said as he held up the stuffed bear. "Probably doesn't change his clothes anymore because she's too old for that, but he's in pajamas."
"Remember that military uniform you got for her bear? Mom said she barely took Beary out of that because she missed you so much."
"Yeah, and if she wouldn't have dropped him at the airport, I might not have met Mouse."
The two fell into a comfortable silence as he continued to dig through your bag. He got to a big zip-lock bag full of pieces of fabric that were stained light reds and browns.
"Will, c'mere," Jay said, waving him over. Will squatted down next to Jay. "You know what this is?"
Will sighed. "Unfortunately, yes. I saw a lot of this when I worked in Sudan."
"Well, what is it?"
"So, when girls don't have access or money to buy feminine hygiene products, they'll use scraps of fabric and wash them. Looks to me like she cut up some, um, she cut up some underwear and then used them as make-shift pads. If they aren't taken care of properly, she could end up with an infection. And, if she tried to use them as tampons instead of pads, it could lead to TSS, which stands for Toxic Shock Syndrome."
"We're gonna have to talk to her about this now, aren't we?"
"Unfortunately, yeah. She's not gonna be happy you dug through her stuff, so I'll let you explain why you were going through it. And, if she used them as tampons, I want her to get a pelvic exam, just to make sure she didn't get any infections. Much more likely to get an infection from tampons than pads."
Jay nodded. He hated having the current conversation and knew he was going to hate the next one even more, but he knew he had to do these things if he wanted to petition the court for legal guardianship.
Jay picked up your duffle bag and brought it to the living room and he set the zip-lock bag full of pieces of fabric on top.
"I can't believe we missed this," Will said. "I mean, we're both trained in how to spot abuse and we couldn't even spot it in our little sister."
"There weren't outright signs," Jay said. "No bruising, limping, cuts, burns, nothing like that. And, it's winter, it's easy to hide the weight loss. But, I still agree with you. If we would've spotted it earlier, we could've gotten her out of there."
"I'm pretty sure she's officially underweight now."
Jay ran a hand through his hair and then stood back up. "I'm gonna go put clean sheets on my bed. I'll let Y/N take it tonight so that we can keep talking out here when she goes to sleep."
"Good idea."
A few minutes later, Jay was back on the couch next to Will and you walked out of the bathroom, wearing a baggy t-shirt and some sweatpants that you had to keep pulling up because they were too big on you now, and a pair of fuzzy socks. You were cold all the time now and wanted your hoodie out of your duffle and wanted to put your dirty clothes in there, but when you looked down to the spot where you thought you had put it, it wasn't there.
"Guys?" you asked. "Have you seen my bag?"
You walked over to the kitchen table where your blanket was sitting on the chairs and wrapped that around yourself instead.
You furrowed your eyebrows as you saw your brothers on the couch, your duffle bag in front of them on the floor, and on top, your bag of ripped-up, old underwear that you used as pads when you didn't have any.
"You went through my stuff?" you asked, starting to become angry.
"Y/N," Jay started, "I know you're mad and it was me who went through it and not Will, so don't be mad at him, be mad at me. But, I went through it to see if anything was in there that could help me get you out of dad's house. Permanently."
"You- You want to have custody of me?" you asked.
A small smile appeared on Jay's lips and he nodded. "It wouldn't be considered custody because I'm not your biological parent, it would be considered guardianship, but yes, I want you to stay with me. And, my loan went through for a new apartment, so you'd have your own room and everything."
"Okay."
Jay looked at Will, not wanting to be the one to start this conversation. And, he figured Will would be the best one to start it because he was a doctor.
"Y/N, we need to ask you about these." Will motioned to the zip-lock bag on top of your stuff.
You sat in the loveseat across from them and looked down at your feet.
"It's okay, you're not in trouble," Will continued. "We just want to know how you used them in case you need to get a pelvic exam to check for infections in that area."
Your lip began to tremble as tears started to roll down your cheeks. "I used them as pads," you said quietly. "Dad wouldn't buy me any and I stopped getting them from school because I thought they'd suspect something was wrong if I- if I kept taking them."
"One more question," Will said softly. "I just need to know in case we need to take you in for this. I know you said you used them as pads, but did you ever try and use them as tampons?"
"No. I only used them as pads," you whispered. "I was scared to use them as tampons." You looked up at your brothers, who both had tears in their eyes. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you rushed. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner I was just--" You let out a wail and Jay got up and knelt in front of you.
"Hey, hey, none of this is your fault. Do you hear me? Absolutely none of this is on you. It's all on Dad. Every single bit of it. You are not the one to blame."
You launched yourself into his arms, crying out every emotion you had felt these past few months: anger, frustration, fear, sadness, it was all coming out now.
And, Jay just held you and let you cry it out because that was what your guys' mom used to do for him. And, he knew it worked.
Twenty minutes later, your wails were just quiet whimpers and you pushed yourself back up onto the loveseat, where Will had moved to the spot next to you. He wrapped an arm around you and you leaned into him, craving the comfort that had been denied to you for so long.
"You still have that Twix bar?" you asked.
"All that crying made you hungry, didn't it, Short Stack?" Will asked as Jay got up to retrieve the candy bar from the table.
You nodded.
"Thank you," you said when Jay handed you the Twix bar. You unwrapped it and broke it into the two sticks. "You guys want any?" They both shook their heads: they knew you needed to get as many calories in you as possible.
Jay sighed, he might as well get this hard conversation over with you tonight as well. "Y/N, you can eat as much as you want. I won't say anything about you eating too much, okay?"
You looked up from your candy bar. "You won't call me a burden because I'm eating your food? Like Dad did?"
"He said that?" Will asked, giving Jay a look that read when I see him next, I can't be held accountable for my actions.
"Yeah. One time there were some leftovers he had gotten from a bar and I was so hungry and it was the middle of the night, so I took them out and heated them up. The microwave timer must've woken him up because he came out just as I was about to start eating and then he yelled at me for eating his food and called me a burden."
"Well, we don't think that. Neither Will nor me think that," Jay told you. "And you can eat as much as you want."
You yawned as you crumpled up your Twix wrapper.
"Tired?" Will asked.
"Yeah," you mumbled.
"It's been a long day," Jay said. "You can take my bed."
"Jay, it's your apartment, I can't--"
"Y/N, this isn't up for discussion. I already put clean sheets on the bed for you."
"Is- Is there a fan in your room? I can't sleep without white noise."
"There is. You want me and Will to tuck you in?"
"I'm too old for that." You stood up and Will did, too. "Jay, can you hand me Beary? He should be in my duffle."
"Here you go, kid."
You took your bear and held him loosely in your arm. Then, you enveloped Jay in a hug and did the same for Will.
"I love you guys."
"We love you, too," Will said.
"Now get to sleep. You've still got school in the morning. I'll be here when you wake up."
"Dad sometimes wouldn't be home when I woke up for school. He'd be at a friend's house sleeping off a hangover from the night before or just sleeping."
Jay furrowed his eyebrows. "Doesn't he have to work?"
"He does work, but only a few days a week. The other days, he stays out really late and then comes home either drunk or hungover."
"I see," Jay stated. "Well I won't be doing that, I can promise you that."
"I know. You aren't like Dad. Neither of you are." You yawned again. "I'm going to bed, goodnight."
A few minutes later, you were out like a light and Will was still at Jay's apartment.
"So, Abby called me the other day," Will started. "She's looking for you. Says she's in town for a few days and wants to meet up."
"Oh yeah? She say why?" Jay asked, wondering why his ex-wife--who was the result of a blackout drunk wedding in Vegas, a thing that lasted only 24 hours tops--was in Chicago and was looking for him of all people.
"She said you two are still married."
Jay threw his head back against the couch and closed his eyes. "You have got to be fucking kidding me."
***
"Morning," Jay said as he stood at the stove flipping some eggs. "Sleep good?"
"I slept really good. Didn't even hear you wake up."
"Fan did the trick then?"
You nodded and grabbed a mug from the cupboard and went to start pouring yourself a cup of coffee.
"Nuh-uh," Jay chirped, putting his hand on the handle of the coffee pot as well.
"Why not? I drank it at Dad's."
Jay raised an eyebrow. "You drank coffee at Dad's?"
"Yeah, on the weekends sometimes that would be my breakfast because it curbs my appetite and there wasn't a lot to eat."
Jay sighed. "Well, you'll have enough to eat here, I can promise you that. And, coffee stunts your growth."
"Jay," you groaned. "I haven't grown since sixth grade."
"Okay, well, then you don't want to become dependent on it at such an early age, then. Come talk to me when you're a legal adult or in college."
"Fine." You let go of the coffee pot and put the mug back in the cupboard.
"You can have juice though." The toast in the toaster popped up and Jay placed the toast on a plate and then put a slice of cheese on each piece and then an egg on top. He also put a small bowl of strawberries next to it. "I'm gonna go get dressed while you eat. And then, once you're ready, I'll take you to school."
"Okay, thanks, Jay."
"You're welcome, kiddo."
You rolled your eyes at the nickname and then went to the fridge to get the apple juice. When you opened the fridge, you saw a brown paper bag with your name on it. Curiosity got the best of you, so you took it out and looked at the contents while you ate your breakfast.
Inside was a ham and Colby jack cheese sandwich with lettuce, pickles, mustard, and mayonnaise, an apple, a coconut-flavored Greek yogurt, celery with peanut butter, and a chocolate chip granola bar. There were also two dollars at the bottom of the bag paperclipped together with a sticky note stuck to the top.
For chocolate milk. ~Jay was what the note read.
Tears sprung to your eyes as you continued to eat your breakfast. You don't remember the last time you brought a lunch to school; you'd always get your lunch for free at school. When you got the paper from school about the free/reduced lunch because teachers noticed you didn't have much to eat, you waited until your dad was hungover and it was early in the morning, and handed him a pen and he signed the paper blindly. And, that's how you got lunch and breakfast at school without any cost to you or your dad.
"Hey, I can just brush my teeth at the kitchen sink if you want the bathroom--" He cut himself off when he saw the tears in your eyes. "What's wrong?"
"You- You made me lunch?" you asked as you turned to face him.
He smiled. "Of course I did. I know how bad cafeteria food can be. And, if it tastes good, it's usually not very good for you."
"Thank you," you said as you wiped a tear away that had rolled down your cheek.
"Aww, hey, don't cry, don't cry. It's okay. You're safe now. You don't need to worry about where your next meal will come from. And, I'm going to petition a judge for legal guardianship in a few days. I just have to have a few conversations with some lawyers."
"Does this mean you have to move? I don't want to kick you out of your apartment."
Jay dismissed that with a wave. "I already put in a loan application for a new apartment. Two bedrooms. Really nice."
"Can you tell me about it? While I finish eating my strawberries."
Jay nodded and sat down in the chair across from you. "It's a two-bedroom, washer, dryer. But, I know you don't care about those things. There's underground parking. It's got a gym, a whole club level, with like a coffee lounge, and all this other stuff."
"That sounds really nice."
"Yeah, it is a pretty nice building. Coffee lounge would be perfect for you to get your homework done if you don't feel like staying in the apartment."
"I thought you said I couldn't drink coffee?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I meant the caffeine in the coffee. Decaf coffee and lattes and tea lattes, that's a different story. I'm sure they have pastries there, too."
"Never pegged you for a coffee snob," you joked.
"You learn a lot about coffee and about a person when you have to get your entire unit coffee. I'll let you in on a little secret: Ruzek's coffee order is the most complicated."
"Really?"
"Really. Now, go finish getting ready. Don't want you being late for school."
***
"Hey, Er, can you meet me at the diner we usually go to?" Jay asked his girlfriend over the phone after he had dropped you off at school.
"Yeah, no problem. Give me fifteen minutes. We haven't caught a case yet, but we should keep our radios on just in case. Everything okay?"
"It's a long story. I'll explain everything in person, okay?"
"Okay," Erin answered skeptically. "I'll see you in a few."
Fifteen minutes later on the dot, Erin walked into the little diner and spotted Jay sitting in the corner booth.
"Alright, what's going on?" she asked after she had ordered her food and some coffee. "You sounded really stressed on the phone."
Jay sighed. "I'm going to fight for legal guardianship of Y/N."
"What? Why? What happened?" Erin asked as she widened her eyes.
"Our dad, he uh, he hasn't really been the greatest. Not keeping food in the house, calling her a burden when she tries to eat some of his food, not buying her products for you know...girl stuff. She's probably lost like 25 pounds since the end of last school year. And, I know that doesn't sound like a lot with the amount of time that's passed, but she's underweight. Will drew some of her blood last night to see if she's deficient in some vitamins or minerals."
"My God."
"Yeah, so, I know we were going to move into your place together, but I need another bedroom and my loan went through at that place I told you about, so I'm going to put an offer in there. You could always move in with me if you want, but I don't know if it would be a good idea for that to happen right away. I just want to get Y/N healthy again. I'm sorry."
"Jay, I get it. She's family. Do you know how you're going to go about this? Did you talk to Voight about taking any time off to sort this out?"
"Not yet. But, I think I'm going to call Antonio and see if he can help me out with getting a meeting with ASA Stone. I know he works criminal cases, but he's gotta know some stuff about family court cases. So, I figured he might be able to help me with this whole process."
"Good idea. If you need any help, just say the word and I'll be there."
Jay smiled. "Thanks, Er." He didn't want to have the conversation he was about to have, but he knew he had to tell her. "There's uh, there's one more thing I need to tell you."
"Okay, what is it?"
"About eight years ago, I was married."
"Excuse me, what? You were married and you didn't tell me?"
Jay knew this was a bad idea...which was why he hadn't wanted to tell Erin, but now that he wasn't officially divorced for whatever reason, he knew needed to tell her. "Just let me explain."
"Yes, please do," Erin sneered.
"Her name's Abby. She ran Cultural Support during my last tour in Kandahar. About a year after I came home, I saw her at a funeral in Vegas. Was... was a guy in our unit, he had redeployed, and, um, he didn't... Um, I was, like, blacking out most nights, and we were both pretty shook up. And, um, we got married." He chuckled at the thought of his twenty-one-year-old self thinking that marriage was a good idea. "It was, like, a 24-hour thing, it was a total joke, and it is long over."
Erin just stared at him, as he waited to be chewed out by her. "Jay, you married this girl. And you never told me, and you were never gonna tell me," was all she said.
"I know. And, I'm sorry. But, I'm meeting up with her in a few days to sign the documents that I thought I'd signed because she's getting married and we need to make the divorce official...even though, in my mind, it's been official for eight years.
"Er, please don't hate me, but with everything going on, with me trying to get guardianship of Y/N and me finding out that I'm somehow still married--"
"You want us to take a break?" Erin asked, finishing his sentence for him.
Jay nodded. "I'm sorry. I just don't think I can juggle a relationship with all this other stuff. And, it's not fair to you."
Erin swallowed. "Well, just tell me if you need any help with Y/N. I'll always be there for you. Relationship or partnership, I'll always have your six."
"And I'll always have yours."
Erin's phone buzzed on the table and she picked it up. "It's Voight. We caught a case."
Jay laid some bills on the table. "Then let's go."
***
"Got the results of Y/N's bloodwork back," Will told Jay over the phone while he had a quick break for lunch...even though it was four o'clock in the afternoon. But, that's the thing about the medical field: breaks are never regular.
"And? Any deficiencies?" Jay asked, walking into his bedroom as you were at the table doing homework and he didn't want to distract you.
"Yes, two actually. Iron and riboflavin. The low iron explains why her periods have become shorter and lighter, but that can also be attributed to how small she is now."
"How do we go about this then?"
"I'll send you a list of foods that have levels high iron and riboflavin. Oh, riboflavin's found in vitamin B by the way."
"Okay, care to tell me what iron and riboflavin do? I know iron helps with hemoglobin and red blood cells, but I have no idea what riboflavin does."
"You're right about iron. I'm shocked. Or, what do the kids say these days? I'm shook."
"I swear to God, please never use that phrase again. And, I know what iron does because I paid attention in high school nutrition class, thank you very much."
"If I remember correctly, I helped you with most of the homework in that class."
"Whatever, you helped me. Now, tell me about riboflavin."
"So, riboflavin just helps convert food into energy and is needed for healthy skin, hair, blood, and a healthy brain." Jay could hear a beeping in the background on Will's end. "Gotta go. I'll send you that list of foods right now, though."
"Thanks, man."
You looked up as Jay came back into the kitchen. "Everything okay?" you asked.
Jay pulled out a chair and sat across from you. "So, I just got off the phone with Will. He got the results from your bloodwork back."
"Is it bad? Am I dying?" You set your pencil down, bracing yourself for bad news.
"No," Jay chuckled, "you're not dying. You just don't have enough iron and riboflavin, which is a specific B vitamin. Will sent me a list of foods that have high levels of those in them. You up for some grocery shopping? We can also grab some multivitamins that have those in them, too, just to help your levels stabilize faster."
"Okay, we can go now. I'm due for a break."
***
"So, some foods that contain riboflavin include milk, eggs, cheese, yogurt, meats, green leafy vegetables, and riboflavin enriched grains and cereals," Jay read off his phone.
"I've had a lot of those today already," you pointed out. "Eggs and cheese with breakfast. I had that yogurt for a snack at school, and I had meat and cheese on my sandwich and I had chocolate milk with my lunch at school."
That was just standard, Jay thought. He wondered what you ate when you were at your Dad's. And, he knew that if he wanted to obtain guardianship of you, he'd need to know these things.
"What did you eat at Dad's?" Jay probed.
"I mean, I barely made it to school on time most mornings because I was trying to be quiet so I didn't wake Dad, which made me move slower when getting ready. So, I'd usually just grab a small thing of dry cereal when I got to school and eat it in my first class. I never checked to see if it was one of the enriched ones. I'm sorry."
"You don't have to apologize. There's no way you could've known. Now, what did you usually have for lunch at school?"
"I always tried to get veggies with my lunch, but most of the veggies were the gross canned ones, like canned corn or green beans. I don't like those. Sometimes, they'd have little salads as a side and I'd get those. Sometimes they'd have yogurt parfaits and I'd get those. But, I'd usually go for the pre-made subs, because at least those would have veggies on them...even if it was just lettuce and pickles. I'd usually try to get an apple or banana as my side, too." You paused. "If I was getting meat and cheese from the sub and milk from my chocolate milk, then how am I deficient in this?"
"It's probably because the meat and cheese schools use is so heavily processed that there are little to no vitamins left in it," Jay answered.
"And you know this how?"
"As you get older, you acquire a lot of knowledge and one of those things is that the more processed a food is, the fewer vitamins and minerals are preserved...and I watch a lot of The Food that Built America on the History channel."
"Oh, okay. What foods are on that show?"
"Usually it's about fast food. One episode I watched last week was about ice cream and popsicles and how they came to be in America. Pretty interesting."
"Can we watch an episode tonight? That show sounds good."
"Of course." He paused in front of the fresh produce. "Take your pick. But, just make sure you get some leafy greens for the riboflavin and some fruit and other green veggies for iron."
You picked up a few things such as more apples, a bag of Clementines, bananas, spinach, carrots, and celery, and then, you shocked your brother as you picked up a bag of kale.
"Kale?" he asked. "Didn't know you liked it."
You shrugged. "I heard it tastes kind of like spinach. And, I saw a recipe on Pinterest for a salad that has kale, lemon juice, and dates. Is it okay if we try that?"
"You know, I think that would be the perfect side for dinner tonight. I'll add lemon juice and dates to the list."
"I didn't grab too many fruits and veggies, right?" you asked, not wanting to waste food or your brother's hard-earned money. "I- I can put some back if you want me to."
"Nope, it's all good. We can always freeze the bananas if they go bad for smoothies or banana bread. And, we can always turn the apples into apple sauce. Spinach and kale freeze well, too and you can't even taste them if we put them in smoothies."
"How do you know this stuff?" you asked.
"I used to watch Mom cook a lot when I was little. And, when I moved out on my own, she gave me a copy of a cookbook she always used. Said the recipes at the beginning of the book were simple enough that I wouldn't burn my apartment down."
You laughed at the thought of your mom scolding Jay if his apartment got ruined from his cooking. "Do you still have it?" you asked. "The cookbook, I mean."
"I do."
"Can we make something out of it tonight?"
"You know, I think that's a great idea." He pursed his lips. "How about Mom's chicken pot pie? I think I have some frozen peas and corn in the freezer and we can use the carrots we just grabbed in it, too."
"That sounds really good. Thank you."
"You don't have to thank me." Jay paused. He figured now would be as good a time as any to tell you. "Uh, do you remember the day that we got ice cream and went and played soccer with Ben when you were little? The night that Mom went into the hospital?"
You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat at the memory of that day.
"Well, she told me to take care of you. There's no way I would break a promise to Mom."
"She said that?"
"Mhmm."
"It's like she knew something was going to happen."
"Mom was a smart lady. Will had to have gotten it from somewhere and he sure didn't get it from Dad."
You laughed. "Hey, you're smart, too. Just not sciency smart. You're more puzzle smart because you put the pieces together of who committed a crime." Jay laughed at your description of his job. "Oh, is the recipe for Mom's garlic mashed potatoes in that cookbook?"
"It is. Want those as a side along with the salad you mentioned?"
"Yes, please...if it's not a problem."
"They're super simple and quick to make." He scribbled on a piece of notebook paper that he had written down a few groceries on, like the salad ingredients you had mentioned. "Alright, potatoes, a rotisserie chicken, and pastry dough have all been added to the list."
***
"I'll be back later tonight, no later than midnight," Jay told you two days later on Sunday night. "I know it's not ideal because you have school in the morning, but try and get some sleep while I'm gone, okay?"
"I'm used to being home alone at night, Jay." You shrugged. "I'll be fine."
"I know, it's just that not something I want you to get used to. Feel free to eat anything you want, cook anything you want. As long as you don't burn down the house, I don't care what you make. Oh, and remember to take your multivitamin before bed."
You rolled your eyes. "I'm fifteen, not five. Now, get going. Don't want you to be late to meet that lawyer."
"Love you. I'll be back by midnight. Lock the door behind me."
"I will. Love you, too."
With that, Jay left his apartment to go meet with ASA Stone and you locked the door behind him as he told you.
***
"So, Antonio told me you have some custody questions," Peter Stone said once he closed the door of his office.
"That's right," Jay replied as he took a seat in front of Stone's desk and turned his phone completely off and Stone took a seat in his chair behind his desk.
"Didn't know you had a kid, Halstead."
"No, I don't actually," Jay chuckled. "I have a kid sister. Name's Y/N and she's fifteen."
"Okay, and why do you want guardianship then?"
"When me and Will, my older brother, were kids, our dad kinda checked out on parenting us when we hit our mid-teens. But, we had our mom around, so it was okay. I went over there the other day because my dad was having some heart issues and I called Will. When I was there, I got a call of a robbery and it was Y/N. She was stealing food from a corner store because our dad wasn't feeding her," Jay explained.
"I see. So, other than her word and her stealing food, do you have any proof of this?"
"I know I should've called DCFS before letting her stay with me, but I couldn't let her stay there a minute longer, Peter. She's lost like 25 pounds in the past six months and she's deficient in both iron and vitamin B."
"Okay, what we have to do is petition for guardianship in front of a judge. I can help you with the documents and I can even represent you at the hearing if you want."
"Wow, yeah, that'd be great. Thank you."
"Anything else you want to tell me about your dad? Any physical or emotional abuse?"
"Not technically, but there is something else." And then Jay launched into all the information you had told him two days ago.
"Okay. And, you know your dad could theoretically press kidnapping charges against you because you took his kid without his permission?"
"I do. But he was basically starving her. No jury would find me guilty."
"I'm not going to argue with you about that one because I agree with you."
"So, do you think I have a chance of getting guardianship over Y/N?"
"In theory, yes. But, most judges like to keep the child with their biological parents. But, seeing as Y/N's fifteen, she does get some say in who she stays with," Stone explained. "When we have a custody or guardianship battle, we use the child's best interest standard. This means that you must prove that you are capable of providing food, clothing, housing, medical care, and a stable home life for Y/N. There will be one or two home visits before appearing before a judge, just to let you know."
"I'm aware of that. And, I just put an offer in on a new apartment with two bedrooms this morning and they're pretty quick in responding, so I should know in the next few days whether or not I got it."
"That's a good start. And you are financially stable to raise her until she turns eighteen, so three more years?"
"I am."
"Alright, let's start on those documents then. Unless you have any more questions for me?"
"I do actually. I, uh, I just found out that I'm technically still married. Something about me not signing the divorce papers even though I specifically remember signing them? And, before you ask, me and this girl served together, we were both twenty-one, going through rough patches and it was a Vegas wedding eight years ago. Lasted no more than twenty-four hours."
"It's really good that you told me this because any good lawyer would find that out when you file for guardianship. It's possible that she didn't co-sign the divorce papers. If that's the reason, I can help you draw up new divorce papers right now."
"Really? You'd help me with that?"
"Of course. A friend of Antonio's is a friend of mine," Stone said as he started typing on his computer. "So, what you can do is you can file for a no-fault divorce."
"You're gonna have to be specific, Stone. I know a bit of criminal law because I've had to testify in criminal cases, but like I said, I don't know family or civil law," Jay said.
"What a no-fault divorce is, Jay, is that you don't have to prove that either of you did anything wrong to get a divorce. All you have to do is state that your marriage is unsalvageable and continue filing for divorce."
"That's it? What if she doesn't sign it?"
"The divorce papers will be served to, uh...what's this girl's name again?" Stone asked.
"Abby."
"Abby. The divorce papers will be served to Abby and she has twenty days to file her response with the court. If she doesn't, then the court rules it as an uncontested divorce and then you're officially divorced."
"Me and Abby are meeting up to talk about all this tonight. But, can we just fill out paperwork for this no-fault divorce just in case things don't go as planned? I just really need to get guardianship of Y/N. The least amount of problems, the better."
"Of course. And if everything goes well with her tonight, then just give me a call and I'll shred the documents."
"Alright, just tell me where to sign."
***
"Wilson is running through the showers wearing nothing but a Kevlar vest, right?" Jay reminisced on the good parts of his Ranger days with Abby at a bar around 8:30 that night after his meeting with Peter Stone.
"Well, the lieutenant said, all outdoor activities to be conducted in body armor." Jay laughed at Abby's rendition of their lieutenant's voice. "Do you remember, he had his girlfriend's name tattooed on his ass?"
Jay set his empty drink down on the bar. "Did he tell you that was his girlfriend? That was his dog's name," Jay laughed.
"That actually makes more sense," Abby said. "I could go for another one of these."
"I, um, I shouldn't."
"Gotta get back to the barracks?"
"No, I uh gotta get back to my little sister, actually. I'm looking after her at the moment. It's a long story. Do you have the papers?"
"I, uh, I don't have them."
"Abby."
"It's just, I never told you. Even that crazy day we got married, I never told you that I loved you, Jay. It didn't feel right. But, I loved you, Jay. I do love you."
Jay sighed. "Abby, you deserve everything good. I'm just not the guy that's gonna give that to you." He brushed her hair to the side and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
After putting some money on the bar to pay for the drinks and tip the bartender, he left the bar. Guess he was going to need these no-fault divorce documents, anyway.
He was almost to his car when he heard someone calling his name. And, it was a voice he knew all too well.
"Erin?" he shouted as she came closer. "What are you doing here?"
"Would it kill you to turn on your phone? You need to get to the district. Now."
"What? Why? What's wrong?"
She got in his passenger seat. "Just drive. I'll explain on the way."
***
You were sitting on Jay's bed reading a book when you heard a knock on the door.
Slowly, you got off his bed and made your way out of his room. You took a knife out of the knife block, but you hoped you wouldn't need to use it. Jay would've told you if someone was planning on stopping over. And, if it was Will, he would've given you a heads-up.
The knocking got louder and more aggressive. "Jayson! Open this door! I have the right to see my daughter!"
Dad.
With the knife still in hand, you backed up and then, once on the carpet, ran back into Jay's room and quietly shut the door and locked it. You pulled out your phone and tried Jay. It went straight to voicemail. The pounding was getting louder. You tried Will. It went straight to voicemail because he was on shift. You thought you heard your dad starting to kick the door now instead of just pounding on it with his fists. You tried the last person you thought could help.
"Y/N?" Erin asked as she answered her phone and paused the tv show she was watching.
"Erin," you whispered. "I'm scared. I need help."
"You need help? Can you tell me why?"
"My dad, he's- he's here. He's looking for me." You heard a crash.
"Jay? Y/N? I know one of you is in here!"
"I- I think he just broke down the apartment door. Please help."
"Okay, okay, here's what you're going to do. I want you to hide somewhere and I'm going to call a patrol car over there right now. You're going to turn your phone on silent and I'm going to call you right back," she told you.
"Okay," you whispered as quietly as you could.
"I'll call you back in one minute tops."
You moved as quietly as you could with the knife and your phone still in your hands and opened Jay's closet door. You buried yourself behind the two garment bags that contained Jay's police blues and his military dress uniform, hoping against hope that your dad wouldn't find you.
Your phone lit up and it was Erin. You answered.
"Y/N, the officers will be there soon. I don't want you to talk. Just know that I'm on the phone with you."
At the same time, as she was talking to you over speakerphone, she was texting the team. She assumed you couldn't reach Jay or Will since you had called her. She told them what was happening and that a few of them needed to get to the district because they needed to find Jay's location. She also told Voight to get ahold of Sharon Goodwin so she could notify Will of what was currently happening.
"Chicago PD! Put your hands where we can see them!" you heard from your hiding place.
"See?" Erin said. "I told you that you'd be okay. I told them that you were hiding, so if someone opens the door, it's just an officer."
Just after she said that the closet door opened.
You squeaked.
"It's okay. You're safe," the officer said. "We're just going to take you down to the district. You're safe."
You peeked out from your hiding place and you saw the blues of the officers. You slowly made your way out and followed the officer out to the patrol car, the one that didn't house your dad for a breaking and entering charge at the moment.
***
"Where is she?" Jay yelled as he entered the district.
Platt just pointed to the bench next to one of the offices where you were sitting, staring at the floor, with a police jacket draped over your shoulders.
He sunk to his knees in front of you. "Are you hurt? Did Dad hurt you? Did he put his hands on you in any way?"
You shook your head.
"Oh thank God."
"I was so scared," you whispered. "When you and Will didn't answer, I thought he was gonna get me."
"I'm sorry. I turned off my phone when I talked to ASA Stone, and I forgot to turn it back on. I'm so sorry. C'mere."
You all but fell off the bench and into Jay's arms. "Is he going to jail? I don't want him going to jail."
"He was drunk out of his mind. I can ask not to press charges, though."
"Please. He needs help."
Although Jay didn't say it, he knew you were right. Jails and prisons didn't rehabilitate, they just taught criminals how to be better criminals. He knew that his dad needed rehab, a twelve-step program, anything.
"Okay, I won't press charges. But, I think we're gonna need to stay with Will for the night because our door's broken. What do you say we run home and grab some clothes to bring to Will's? And, since Dad will be here for a little longer, we can run to his house and get more of your stuff. Sound like a plan?"
"Can we get Dairy Queen on the way to Will's?"
"We sure can."
***
"I- I don't think any of these dresses will fit me anymore. They look way too big," you said to Jay as the two of you unpacked a bunch of your stuff in the guest room of Jay's new apartment. You wanted to think of it as the guest room for now instead of calling it your room just in case Jay wasn't awarded guardianship. You didn't want to get too attached.
Jay sighed. He figured you were right. He would see if Erin could take you, but their relationship was on the backburner right now. And, Erin had some stuff with Bunny she had to work out after she had brought her that pearl bracelet and said that she might be leaving Chicago. So, now wasn't really the right time for him to be bugging Erin about going shopping with you. And, he couldn't ask Kim because she was taking some furlough after finding her sister brutally sodomized after a night out.
He thought about asking Will if Nina could come, but he didn't think that those two were too happy with each other at the moment since Will hadn't told Nina about their dad being in the hospital and she had to find out from Natalie. Not Will's greatest moment.
He racked his brain for more women he knew.
Then it hit him: Gabby.
Yes, they had briefly dated, but that was five years ago. She was married now and his feelings for her were completely gone. They were civil with each other when they saw each other in the field and would chat when Gabby showed up at the district to pick up Eva or Diego.
"How about you try a few on after we finish unpacking, and then if none of them really fit, I can give Gabby a call and see if she'll take you shopping while I work on unpacking the rest of the house," Jay suggested.
"Okay. Will's gonna be over after his shift to help though, right?" you asked.
"He better be. He said he would. If he doesn't come, he better have a really good excuse."
"You can't unpack the kitchen without me," you told him.
"Why not?"
"I can't have you putting the glasses and other stuff on high shelves because I wanna reach them without having to climb on the counter."
"Okay, fine. I'll keep your short little height in mind while I unpack." He paused. "Do you want to get those fancy word stickers for your room for one of the walls?"
"Decals? And, it's not my room yet."
"Listen, after that stunt Dad pulled at my old apartment, Stone is 99.9% positive that I'll be granted guardianship. We just have to jump through all the hoops first."
"Like the home checks?"
"Like the home checks," he confirmed.
"What do I say in court?" you asked a few minutes later as you were putting the pillows on your freshly made bed.
"You just tell the truth," he answered.
"Will you be in there with me?"
"No, I won't. Stone said that usually in these cases you talk to the judge by yourself so that you can't be intimidated by either of the people who are fighting for custody or guardianship."
"So you won't be there? Will won't be there?"
"Will will be out in the hall and I will be in a different room. I'll be in like a witness room, where they make witnesses of a crime wait so that their testimony isn't swayed by what the other people are saying on the stand. But, me and Dad will be in the courtroom at the same time, just so I can see what he'll be saying."
"And, I'll be in there then, too?"
"Yes."
"What kind of questions do they ask me?"
"Stone said that since you're older, you get a say in who you stay with, so they'll ask you questions like who've you known the longest, who you feel safest with, who you want to live with, etc."
"Will they ask me questions about Dad? Like how he didn't give me food and how he broke into your apartment?" you asked.
"They will," Jay confirmed. "But, Stone will be in there for those questions just in case he needs to object to something."
"So the only time I'll be alone with the judge is when they're asking me the first few questions? Like who I feel safest with?"
"Exactly. Now, do you need help putting these books on the top shelf of your bookshelf?"
***
"Hey, how was your day?" Jay asked as he came home from work that afternoon. It was a shock that he was home by 5 pm, but you had a big day tomorrow. Not only was tomorrow Friday, it was the day you and Jay had to go to court to see if he would be awarded guardianship of you.
"We've got a problem," you stated.
"Um, I can try to help you with it, but let me go put my gun away first."
While he was doing that, you pulled out the slip of paper and the note that Gretchen Cunningham had written, saying that she wouldn't allow you to make up the test you would be missing because you had to go to court.
"Alright, what's the problem?" Jay asked as he walked into the kitchen.
"Cunningham. She's the problem...as always."
You handed him the papers and he read them over. "Yeah, this isn't going to fly. She doesn't need a judge's signature to allow you to take the test. I'll talk to the school tomorrow morning when I call to tell them you'll be absent."
"I hate her," you groaned. "She's so mean. And, I know what you're gonna say. You have to deal with people you don't like. But, she lost one of my assignments and told me I didn't turn it in and couldn't re-do it!"
"Well did you?" Jay asked. "Turn it in, I mean."
"Jay!"
He put his hands up in a sign of surrender. "I'm just saying, could be your fault."
"Yes, I turned in the stupid assignment. And, she paired me up with the stupidest kid in the class and told me to do well on this assignment because he needed a good grade to pass. It's not my fault he's failing! Don't put his grade on me, lady!"
"And she wouldn't let you re-do it?"
"Nope. But it's fine. I'm still getting an A. That might change if she doesn't let me take this test, though."
"It's like deja-vu from my freshman year all over again. Why doesn't she retire already? She's like 100."
"Or they could fire her," you quipped. "Or I could switch classes."
"I'll see what I can do. Who's the other history teacher?"
"Um, Miss Hedge."
"Hedge? As in Jayne Hedge?"
"Yeah, it's actually her. Why? Do you know her?"
"Yes he does," Will said as he entered Jay's apartment. "In fact, they went to freshman snowcoming together."
"How did you even get in here?" Jay asked, turning around to look at his older brother.
"For a cop, you're not that smart. You didn't lock the door behind you."
"I don't lock my door when I'm still awake. And, seriously? You just had to tell Y/N that, didn't you?"
"You guys can't just leave me hanging now. Tell me the story!"
"Fine," Jay grumbled and Will just laughed and sat down at the table, too. "I met her at school, obviously. She was on the freshman basketball team and I had winter weight training for the soccer team. I thought she was pretty and she was really smart, too. And, I knew that a bunch of the girls went to get Taco Bell after practice, so me and some of my friends decided to go, too."
"There used to be a Taco Bell close to school?" you asked. If there was, you'd never seen it before.
"It got torn down just after I graduated," Jay answered. "Anyway, we went to Taco Bell and I started talking to her and we talked a lot after practice. I'd walk her home sometimes. Then, I asked her to snowcoming and she said yes."
"So, why'd you guys break up? I know you dated Allie in high school."
"We realized we were better off as friends." Jay shrugged.
"And he realized he liked Allie more," Will added.
"Yeah, that too."
Will set a big bag of takeout on the table.
"Seriously?" Jay asked. "I thought we weren't going to do this that much anymore so we can get Y/N's vitamin and mineral levels stabilized."
"I'm sure she'd appreciate the break from your mundane meals," Will said. "And, I got us all side salads to go with the burgers instead of fries, so calm down." Jay gave him a look. "Fine, I got the side salads along with the fries. But, they're made out of potatoes, so they're technically a vegetable."
"For a doctor, you don't know much about nutrition, do you? And, my meals are not mundane."
"Dude, you'd have chicken, spaghetti, or grilled cheese every night."
"Not every night, just a lot of nights when I'd get home from the district late. I'll have you know me and Y/N have been making really good diners lately. Wanna tell Will what we made last night for dinner, Short Stack?"
"We made this really good pasta. We used Orzo, which looks like rice, but it's pasta. And we made a sauce out of tomatoes, onions, and orange juice. It was supposed to be lemon juice, but Jay didn't have any. We put chicken sausage in it for protein...and spices of course," you told Will.
"That actually sounds really good. Wow, Jay cooking every night, not something I expected."
"I like it," you said. "And, he lets me play whatever music I want when we cook."
Will rolled his eyes. You had Jay so wrapped around your finger that he'd do almost anything for you. Will didn't think he himself was that bad, but deep down, he knew he'd do anything for you, too...despite not being in Chicago as long as Jay had been.
***
"So I got a call from Stone this morning," Jay said around 11:30 that night when he and Will were sitting on the couch, each nursing a beer.
Will set his beer down on the coffee table in front of him. "And?"
"And, as of yesterday at midnight, I am officially divorced from Abby. Turns out, they served her the papers and, since she didn't sign them and it had been twenty days, it turned into an uncontested, no-fault divorce."
"Congrats, man. Might've been eight years too late, but you're a free man now."
"Amen to that. And it came at just the right time."
"Yeah," Will agreed. "You nervous for tomorrow?"
"Not really. More nervous for Y/N than anything. I've testified in criminal cases, so I kinda know how this goes, but she hasn't. And, before me and Dad go in to plead our cases, she has to talk to the judge all by herself. I just wish one of us could be in there with her."
Will nodded. "Know what they're going to ask you?"
"I know what Stone's going to ask me because we prepped, but I have no idea what Dad's lawyer is going to ask me. Pretty sure he's got just a public defender, though. Hopefully, that works in my favor."
"Not always, man," Will disagreed. "The public defenders who do these cases only do these cases. They've had a lot of practice."
"You really know how to make me feel better, thanks," Jay replied sarcastically.
"Rather have you hear it from me before the case than someone else after. Are you going to get cross-examined?"
"Probably. Don't know what they're going to ask me though because it's a cross. Stone set up some sample questions for me to answer with him to practice, but I'm going in blind. I'm used to it though because I've testified before. But, this feels like my biggest case."
"Because it probably is."
"Are you talking about tomorrow?" you asked as you quietly padded across the floor towards the living room.
"Y/N? What are you doing up? It's almost midnight," Jay pointed out.
"I- I know. But I couldn't sleep. I'm scared. What if I have to go back to Dad's? What if they find neither of you fit and I have to go into foster care?"
Jay patted the empty spot on the couch next to him and you sat down. "We just have to trust the system. That's all we can do."
"I know, but I can't sleep. And I'm so tired."
"I have an idea," Jay started and stood up, "stay here."
"I'm gonna go look for some melatonin," Will said after a few minutes of you two just sitting in silence. "I think Jay still has some for nights that he can't sleep."
Will was still rummaging around Jay's cabinets when Jay came back with a big black box with some cords and a cardboard box balanced against his hip.
"The hell is that?" You quickly covered your mouth when you realized you had sworn. "Sorry."
"It's okay. And, to answer your question, this is VCR. And, I have a bunch of videotapes in this box." He turned from you to face the kitchen, where Will was still opening and closing cabinets. "Will? What are you doing?"
"Looking for melatonin for Y/N. You got any?"
"First of all, it's so late that if you give it to her now, she'll sleep through her alarm and we can't be late for court tomorrow. And, second of all, I keep it in the medicine cabinet in my bathroom."
Will closed the cabinet and made his way back to the couch to sit next to you as Jay started to hook up the VCR to the tv. "Uh, Jay," Will began, "you know it's a little late for a movie right? And, I should get going in like half an hour?"
"We're not watching a movie. I recorded a bunch of the Blackhawks playoff games on one of these and I thought Y/N'd like to watch the 2010 Stanely Cup final series against the Flyers. Or, we could watch the final series against the Bruins when they won the cup last year."
"Let's watch the 2010 one," you said. "I don't think I watched it because I wasn't into watching hockey as much as I am now."
"And you have Jay to thank for that," Will pointed out.
"You can record things on there? Like an old-school DVR?" you asked.
"God, now I feel old," Will groaned. "Wait until she learns about floppy disks."
"Floppy what now?"
"Nevermind. Only 80s-90s kids would get it."
"We get it. You guys are millennials."
"Got it!" Jay exclaimed as he popped the videotape into the VCR and it started playing. "Now, shut up so we can relive this, Will."
You fell asleep before you even reached the end of the first period.
***
You rubbed your eyes and then looked around you to notice that you were still on the couch. You craned your neck to see the time on the oven on the other side of the open concept kitchen and living room and saw that it was 5:45 am. Jay was at the gym now. And, you knew you wouldn't be able to fall back asleep because you were already starting to worry about the rest of the day. You had to be in court at 8:30 and had to be talking to a judge at 9:00, the judge that would determine who you would be living with, which would inevitably determine your future.
God, you were thinking just like the teachers talked about the SATs, how if you didn't get a good grade on that standardized test that your future would be ruined.
You stood up and stretched and then went back to your room to grab the book you were currently reading. Then, you turned on a few lamps and grabbed a yogurt and fruit from the fridge, along with a glass of orange juice. After wrapping yourself in a blanket, you started to eat and read, hoping that that would keep your mind from wandering and worrying at least until Jay got back from the gym.
Half an hour later, Jay unlocked the apartment door and walked inside, confused as to why you were awake. It was only 6:15 and he had told you just to be up by 6:45.
"What are you doing awake, Short Stack?" he asked as he grabbed a banana from the bowl on the counter.
"I woke up at about 5:45 and I couldn't fall asleep. I'm sorry."
"Nothing to worry about. I just want you as well-rested for today as possible. You have your dress all ready? Know what shoes you're going to wear?"
"Jay," you whined. "I picked all of that out last night because you told me to."
"Just didn't want you to have to rush. I can turn the game back on for you so you can watch it until you have to start getting ready?"
You nodded and Jay came over and fiddled with the tv and the remote, going back to the middle of the first period where he thought you had fallen asleep.
"Okay, I'm gonna take a shower. Will said he'll be here around 7:45. Oh, and you can take that history test when you get back on Monday, in Miss Hedge's class."
You smiled. "Okay." Then, you turned your attention back to the hockey game.
***
You widened your eyes as you stood in the second bathroom getting ready. You had gotten dressed (into a navy blue, lacey dress that ended just above the knee that you had bought with Gabby a few days ago), washed your face, brushed your teeth, did your makeup, but now you were cursing yourself for being so stupid. You had no way of doing your hair. You didn't have a straightener here. And, your typical ponytail or bun wasn't going to cut it for court.
"Jay!" you yelled as you exited the bathroom and knocked on his bedroom door.
He opened it as he was tying his tie. "Yeah? Everything okay?"
"I don't have a straightener! I can't do my hair and if I wear my hair like I usually do then it will look bad on you and--"
"Hey, hey, calm down. We've still got over 45 minutes before we have to leave. I'll give Gabby a call and see if she's not on shift and can let you borrow hers."
You sighed the biggest sigh of relief. "Thank you."
Five minutes later, Jay knocked on the bathroom door as you were brushing your hair. "Gabby will be here in ten."
"Oh thank God."
***
"Thank you!" you exclaimed ten minutes later as you opened the door, revealing Gabby with her hair straightener. And, behind her, was Casey.
"No problem. Just tell me if you're not used to it and need help."
You took it from her. "No, I should be good. Thanks, though. C'mon in. I'm pretty sure Jay's around here somewhere."
They came into the apartment while you ran off to find Jay.
You knocked on his bedroom once more and he opened it, this time completely ready for the day. "Gabby and Casey are here," you told him.
"Casey's here?" he asked, furrowing his eyebrows.
"Yeah. I think he just came with Gabby."
"Okay. Go fix your hair. I'll go talk to them."
Twenty minutes later, you were finished and slipping your shoes on when you heard a knock on the apartment door. "I got it, Y/N!" Jay yelled.
Well, I hoped you would because you're closer to the door than me, you thought to yourself.
Jay opened the door, and since it was exactly 7:45, he was expecting to just see Will. But, what he saw both shocked him and made him want to cry from appreciation at the same time.
Standing next to Will was Natalie and behind them was all of Intelligence and Trudy Platt and Mouch, all of Squad 3 and Truck 81 (minus Casey because he was inside), Sylvie Brett, Chief Boden, April, Maggie, Dr. Rhodes, Dr. Charles, Reese, and Noah.
"You're all here for the court case?" Jay asked, stunned.
"Well, Natalie has to testify about Y/N's deficiencies and weight loss, but yeah. It's better if the court sees that the person trying to get guardianship has a ton of support. So, I figured I'd call in reinforcements...even though I'm pretty sure my big personality is enough."
Jay rolled his eyes. "Your big ego maybe." He paused, not knowing how he was going to fit everyone in his apartment even if it was bigger than his last one. "However many of you guys can fit inside, can come in. Um, some of you might just need to meet us at the courthouse--"
"Jay, they just came now so you could see how many people were behind you. They're just gonna meet you there. Except for me. I'm driving you two." Jay furrowed his eyebrows. They didn't talk about this. "I'll explain later."
"Gabby," you said as you walked out of the bathroom. "Can you--" you stopped as you saw everyone outside Jay's apartment.
"They're all here for you and Jay," Gabby explained as she stood up. "And, you can't cry because it'll smear your makeup, so hold back the tears."
You nodded as you held them back. "Can you, uh, check the back of my hair to make sure I got it all straight?" you asked.
"Two spots are still a bit wavy. Let's go fix it so you can get going."
A few minutes later, Gabby had fixed your hair and everyone besides Will and Jay had left and were on their way to the courthouse. You slipped on a pair of black ballet flats and your coat.
Will had explained that the reason he was driving was that if Jay didn't get guardianship, he didn't want him driving in such a distressed state. Will had worked on so many patients who were in car accidents due to their emotional state and he didn't want Jay to be one of them.
"Ready?" Jay asked you.
"As ready as I'll ever be," you said as you wiped your sweaty palms on your dress.
"All you have to do is tell the truth."
***
You thought you'd be comfortable inside a courtroom because of the crime dramas you'd seen. But, standing inside one was very different from watching a fictional tv show.
No one but you, the judge, the court reporter, Peter Stone, and your dad's lawyer could be in the room for this next part, so everyone was either in a witness room or waiting outside in the hallway for the go-ahead to be let in. You would be allowed to be in the courtroom while they were talking to Jay and your dad, but they wouldn't be able to be in the room when you talked to the judge...for obvious reasons, such as influencing what you would say.
"All rise."
You stood up next to Stone as the judge, who you now knew as Judge Callahan, entered the room.
Once you sat down, you were called to the stand. "Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so help you God?" you were asked as you placed your hand on the Bible.
"I do," you answered.
"Alright, please allow Miss Halstead on the witness stand," Judge Callahan said. "Now, I'm just going to ask you a few questions. All you have to do is answer them. Do you understand?"
"Yes, I understand."
"Okay, first question: Has your father, Pat Halstead, ever hit you or physically abused you in any way?"
"No," you answered.
"Has he ever neglected to give you necessities, such as food, water, clothing, or shelter?"
"Yes."
"Can you please elaborate?"
You did. You explained how your dad never had food in the house and would yell at you and call you a burden if you tried to eat his leftovers.
"Is it true that your father tried to break into your brother's house to get you?" Judge Callahan asked.
"Yes."
"Who do you feel safest with?"
"My brother, Jay Halstead."
"Who would you prefer to live with?"
"Jay Halstead."
***
Jay sat on the witness stand. He had answered all of Stone's questions, including all of the questions about him finding you stealing, what you had been using for pads, and what he had been told that you had been eating at your dad's house. Natalie had testified about your physical well-being, weight loss, and iron and riboflavin deficiencies. But now, it was time for Jay's cross-examination. And, he sure as hell didn't expect this next question to be asked.
"Mr. Halstead," your dad's lawyer began, "you previously said, and I quote, that your dad clocked out on parenting you and your older brother, Will, when you were in your teens, around when you started high school. Can you elaborate on that?"
"Objection!" Stone yelled. "Relevance?"
"Speaks to a pattern."
"I'll allow it," Judge Callahan said. "Please answer the question, Mr. Halstead."
Jay nodded. "He clocked out on parenting me and Will because he said that were essentially grown men at this point in our lives, we didn't need him cheering us on or him helping us. He didn't come to a single one of my soccer games in high school. And, if by some miracle we went out for ice cream or something just me, my brother, and my dad, he wouldn't pay for ours. Said we were old enough to pay for ourselves.
"But, we had our mom. She came to all our games and school events. She made us breakfast, lunch, and dinner. If she wasn't there, I don't know what would've happened to me and Will. My dad didn't even want me to go into the military and didn't want Will to go to medical school. He said a real man went right to work. The only time I felt loved by him in all my teenage years was when I left for the military. It was like because he knew I might die over there that he figured he'd say he loved me one last time."
"Redirect, your honor," Stone said. Judge Callahan nodded at Stone. "You said that your mom made you and your brother lunch. Are you doing that for Y/N?"
"Objection! Relevance?"
"Speaks to Mr. Halstead's abilities as a parent."
"I'll allow it. Please answer the question."
"I actually do," Jay answered. "I make her a packed lunch to bring to school every day and I'm sure to add foods high in iron and riboflavin to help those levels stabilize quicker. The first time I packed her a lunch, she actually cried because she hadn't gotten a lunch from home in so long."
"Thank you."
"Mr. Halstead," your dad's lawyer started, "you were previously deployed overseas in Afghanistan for two tours of duty. While I thank you for your service, is it possible that you could have PTSD and hurt Y/N in the middle of the night?"
"I would never hurt her!"
"While you are fully conscious, maybe. But, while you are in a sleep-addled state, isn't it possible that you might think that the person waking you up is an enemy soldier and not your little sister?"
Jay sighed. No one knew this about him, not you, not Will, not his dad. No one. And now all of his family and closest friends were going to know since they were in the courtroom watching this entire thing unfold.
"I am on Prazosin for nightmares caused by my PTSD," Jay answered.
"And how long have you been on this medication?"
"For about two years."
"And this has helped you manage your nightmares?"
"Yes, very much so."
"No further questions."
***
"Jesus, Jay," Will said after you had watched your dad's testimony on why he should get to keep you. It was the usual: how he was your father, so, therefore, he deserved to keep taking care of you and it's what your mother would've wanted...despite her telling Jay to keep you safe before she died. They already had the responding officers testify about the break-in, so he couldn't deny that and he was under oath, so if anyone found out he lied, then your dad would be held in contempt.
"I'm sorry I never told you, man," Jay said. "I just, I thought of it as weak that I couldn't deal with my own shit." He grimaced when he realized he had sworn around you. "Sorry, Y/N."
"It's okay. I hear that stuff at school."
"I'm just upset you didn't tell me they were getting that bad, Jay," Will lamented. "I know I wasn't there for you a lot after Mom died, but I'm here now."
Jay nodded, and Will knew he didn't want to talk about the topic anymore. You looked through the little window into the courtroom and saw that the judge was coming back from her chambers.
"Guys, I think she's made a decision," you said nervously.
"Whatever happens, me and Jay will be there for you," Will promised.
All you could do at this point was nod, as a lump was forming in your throat from all your nerves.
Jay led you back into the courtroom and you sat at the front, between Jay and Will. You wiped your sweaty palms on your dress and Jay gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
Judge Callahan stood up.
"By using the child's best interest standard of who can provide food, clothing, housing, education, medical care, and a stable home life for Y/N Halstead, I declare Mr. Jay Halstead the legal guardian of Y/N Halstead."
You could've sworn that you stopped breathing the second she said Jay's first name. You were so overwhelmed that you just turned to him and started crying as he wrapped an arm around you while he listened to the judge state your dad's visitation rights.
But, you didn't hear any of that. The only phrase that kept repeating in your head was I declare Mr. Jay Halstead the legal guardian of Y/N Halstead over and over again.
Now, you knew that you'd always have the necessities when you lived with Jay. You wouldn't have to worry about where your next meal was going to come from or if your dad would be out until 3 am drinking. You wouldn't have to worry about having access to tampons or pads and not be embarrassed anymore to ask for some from school if you forgot to put any in your backpack that day. But most of all, you knew that you would be loved and cared for.
A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Did I make anyone cry with this one??? The blood draw scenario was actually based on when I had to go and get my blood drawn the other day and thought I was going to pass out, which is why that scene was so long. Anyway, thank you again for reading, and please reblog/like and comment and tell me what you think! As always, if you want to be added to my taglist, just tell me and I’ll add you!
taglist: @theambracer88 @virtualreader @kelelas-life @celyndavies @brookerz122493 @musicismyescape27 @anotherfan07 @thexplosivegirl @dreamingwithlens @xoxmariaxox @onechicago18 @iamasimpingh0e
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quantumlocked310 · 3 years
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Order Up! Part 1 of 2
Extra Hot Hvitserk Macchiato for @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom on the bar!
Summary: You finally run into the cute barista from your favorite coffee shop when he’s not working. Will he be charming enough to lure you into bed? Or are you confident enough to invite him in yourself?
Warnings: Tooth Rotting Fluff, Slow Burn, Smut will be in Chapter 2
Note: This is technically a sequel, but can be read without reading Pour Overs and Pastries. (but that one is really cute, so you absolutely should if you haven’t)
Crossposted on AO3
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+++++
The new job was going swimmingly. Your coworkers loved you, and you were crushing problems left and right. You’d even saved the company several thousand Krone by finding a smoother, more efficient way to execute some accounting procedures. The company was so happy they’d taken the chance on you, even though they had to go through all the trouble of coordinating the visa and moving you from New York to Denmark.
You’d fallen in love with the city, and your new life. Each workday you begin with coffee from Lothbrothers. The office has a little kiosk in the foyer, but the coffee from the little shop with the cute barista is worth the extra expense.
For three months your morning routine is peppered with pleasant conversation from Sigurd, local gossip with Ivar, and a whole bunch of covert staring at the muscles in Hvitserk’s back as he putters around the bar.
Two weeks into your daily trips to the shop, Ivar had turned to you while waiting for your drink and demanded your name saying, “Du er kommet her i to uger…” before seeing the look of immense confusion on your face and switching to English while rolling his eyes. “You’ve been coming here for two weeks now. Guess you’re a regular. Why are you in Denmark?”
You’re a little taken aback at his abrupt tone, but seeing as he has spent the last two weeks staring holes into his computer it is possible he’s just a little intense. You turn to him and say “A new job. I moved from New York,” but almost can’t spit it out, because as soon as you turn to answer him his icy blue eyes capture you in their magnetic pull.
You blink and he’s no longer looking you in the eye. “New York is a long way. Why Denmark?”
Shrugging you rest a hip on the counter and check your watch quickly. “It was the first overseas company I found willing to hire an American in the position I wanted. I’m very lucky, and very good at my job. Not to mention the perk of viking men.” You wink at this handsome stranger, and he looks away, a little flustered. Perhaps if you can’t catch the barista’s eye, you’ll have fun with this Dane instead.
“Latte for Y/N.” A voice growls from your side, and you turn around to grab your drink.
“Thank you, Hvits…” He is gone before you can finish his name, without so much as a “Thank you for coming,” like usual.
You frown, but suppose it must be busier than usual and turn back to the stranger you’d been conversing with. “Excuse me, I have to run to work, but it was very nice to meet you.”
“And you as well.” The stranger waves you off, and you scurry away, mind a flurry with thoughts of what you could’ve possibly done to piss off the cute barista. Was he just busy? Did you say something to the stranger that made him angry? You realize you never got the stranger’s name, but the rest of the anxious thoughts flow away with the calming walk to your office building.
+++++
The next day you learn the stranger’s name is Ivar, and you strike up an interesting friendship. Each morning you greet each other and while you wait for coffee he tells you all about the other patrons. You learn the large man on the bench from your first day is Bjorn, Ivar’s half brother. “But that’s a story for over drinks, not coffee.” You laugh together, but you have to go before he can ask you out for those drinks.
Ivar says the man at the window is the leader of a local church. Not a priest, and not a cult leader, but almost. Ivar is unashamed about his belief in their higher power, but makes it clear he doesn’t have a large commitment to Loki’s teaching specifically. The way he speaks of the older man, it seems like something had happened between the two, but Ivar is stubborn and refuses to speak anymore on the subject.
After six weeks of talking, Ivar tells you he’s an editor for a major Danish publisher. His sharp and ruthless mind makes sure no mistake is unaddressed and you get to sample some of the works he reads as he complains about plot holes or token characters.
Ivar seems to know everyone in the cafe, or can at least point someone out as new and predict if they will come back or not. Hvitserk will sometimes chime in with a comment about a patron. That they like this or that drink. That they don’t like raisins. That he thinks yellow isn’t their color. Or he bets they work for this lawyer or that restaurant.
Over the weeks you find out more little things about the two men, and you stop flirting with Ivar. You’ve noticed it gets him flustered and he seems to actually get uncomfortable, but he refuses to talk about it and changes the subject whenever you try. So you move on, and continue the friendly banter and non-sexual subjects. You’ve learned Hvitserk will stand up for the other employees. When someone is rude to Sigurd he will take over with a menacing glare and put in their order without a smile. If he hears harassing comments from people in line he will kick them out without thought, and Ivar supports him every time.
Your affection for Lothbrothers grows with every week you spend going to the coffeeshop, and your friendship with Ivar, and your crush on Hvitserk soar with it too.
+++++
Bright and early Saturday morning finds you browsing the local market for fresh finds. On the weekends you indulge your Farmer’s Market Aesthetic side and cook anything you can find. You’ve even started to befriend one of the local boulangers after he realized you love to hear about his process for choosing bread flavors for the day.
While talking to Pierre about his sourdough starter, you notice out of the corner of your eye a tall man approach the market stall. Pierre pauses in your conversation and you turn to get a better look at who is buying.
“Hvitserk?” His name slips out of your mouth in shock. You’d never run into anyone you know, who wasn’t a vendor, at this market before.
His head whips around, eyes impossibly wide as he stares at you, clearly thinking something similar.
“It’s Y/N. From the coffeeshop. Good Morning!”
“Yes, Y/N. Ivar’s new friend. Good morning.” He seems to pause, perhaps thinking about if it’s socially acceptable to turn tail and run. But then he simply asks “How are you?”
“I am well thank you. All the better for Pierre’s delicacies.” You smile toward the seller then ask, “How are you?”
“Well also, thanks. Do you come to this market often?”
“Only every Saturday for the past, oh, five weeks? Do you come here often, as well?”
“I have not been back in a long time.” He seems to think inwardly for a moment before coming back to the present. You wonder what makes him look like that. Who ruined this peaceful market for this gorgeous man?
“Well then you won’t have met Sara yet!” You grab his free hand and start pulling him toward one of the newer market stalls. On the way over you seem to realize what you’ve done, and try to pull your hand away out of propriety, but Hvitserk tightens his hold just a little and you can feel your face heat as you continue to hold hands.
There are a few people in line when you arrive, so you continue to make small talk, asking “So what made you decide to come to the market today?”
“I like to see what’s new or in season to add to the menu for the shop. Unfortunately the schedule doesn’t always allow me to scope things out as often as I like. Yourself?”
“I try to cook locally on the weekends, since I don’t have time during the week. There is amazing produce here, wait ‘till you try…” You’re interrupted by Sara proclaiming “My favorite customer!”
You laugh and hug your friend awkwardly over the counter. “Good morning, Sara. I want you to meet Hvitserk. He’s the barista at that amazing cafe by my apartment.”
“Co-Owner and barista, actually. It’s nice to meet you.” He reaches out his hand to greet Sara.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn't realize. How cool!” In all your talks, Ivar had never mentioned. You panic for a quick second before continuing. “Sara is the best beekeeper in all of the North. She also works part time with me in the office.”
“Welcome to ‘Sweet as Honey’! What can I get for you?” Sara chimes in with a big smile.
“He wants the small tasting jars. Lavender, Jalapeno, and Chai.” You turn to Hvisterk “Her flavors are ingenious and she comes up with new ones all the time. She brings in samples to work, so I'm both spoiled and biased.”
“I can’t wait.” He smiles softly. You go to pull out your wallet, but Hvitserk is already handing Sara some Krone. “You’ve bought enough coffee from me. I think I should return the favor.” He winks and inside you swoon a little. His flirty smile is a welcome change from the cool professionalism you get from him at Lothbrothers’.
“Thank you for stopping by! It was nice to meet you Hvitserk. I’ll see you on Monday, Y/N?”
“Bye, Sara! See you then.” As Hvisterk turns to walk away, Sara looks at you and points at him, then fans herself and pretends to faint. You give her a quelling look and shake your head no. She gives you an incredulous look in return, as if to say “Why not?” You shrug briefly thinking “I don’t know where this is going.”
You turn around to find Hvitserk has claimed a small bench by a tree a few feet away from Sweet as Honey. He pulls out the first of the jars, a small bag with six little cubes of bread inside, and a tiny wooden stirring stick. The heat of his body is scalding where you can feel it next to you, the bench only large enough to allow a sliver of air between you.
His large hands open the top on the Chai infused honey, and you watch his long fingers use the tiny stick to spread just enough honey on the first of the bread cubes. He offers you the cube. It would take nothing to grab it from him and pop it in your mouth, but you hesitate. He’s offered it at face level, so you take the chance. Your plump lips wrap around the soft bread, and your tongue sneaks out to lick any remaining honey off the tip of his thumb and forefinger.
In the time it takes you to chew and swallow he has acquired his own piece of honeyed bread. His is prepared lightning fast while barely taking his eyes off your face. The green of his iris is just a sliver, almost completely taken over by the black of his dilated pupils.
A quiet moan seems to force its way out of his chest as you make eye contact. “How does she get the delicate blend of cardamom and cinnamon?”
You clear your throat, but your voice is still a little husky. “I told you she was a genius. Try the Jalapeno.”
Together you try all the honeys, and Hvitserk comments on the balance of flavors, the texture, and how he would love to use some of them in either the pastries or the drinks at the shop. He also reveals that while they now have some bakers help in the morning, Hvitserk is still the one who recipe tests and makes all the menu decisions.
He puts his hand on your knee. “Stay here for a moment while I talk to Sara? I’ll be right back.” You watch him walk away and stare unabashedly at his ass perfectly hugged by his skinny jeans. He talks to the beekeeper, and you watch them exchange business cards
This day has turned out to be amazing, and you don’t want it to be over. Hvitserk has turned out to be an incredible conversation partner, and you can feel in your gut that the two of you click in a way you haven’t felt in a while.
When he returns, Hvitserk offers you both hands to help you from the bench. You take them, and as soon as you stand up you blurt out, “Come over for dinner tonight?” You wince at your tactlessness, but continue with “I bought so many good ingredients, and it would be an honor to share them with you.”
“I’m at Lothbrothers’ until 7. Can I come by after that?”
“7 is great. What’s your number? I can text you the address.”
You both exchange phones and add the new contact. When he gives yours back, you see he’s put Hvitserk Lothbrok in, but he’s also listed himself as “Hot Barista.” You roll your eyes at him when you look back up, and he throws you a flirty wink before saying goodbye and giving you a kiss on the cheek as well.
After watching him walk away you run back home and start prepping the menu, cleaning your apartment, and making sure you have some good wine to go with the meal.
Read Chapter 2 here.
Tag List: @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie​ @appledressing​
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a-storm-of-roses · 2 years
Text
3-2-1 Challenge
Tagged by both the lovely and talented @itsgoldleaf and @alienfuckeronmain and am very into this concept as a way to shame/motivate me into dusting off those WIPs.
This is how it works:
The theme for this weekend is Good Vibes! 😎 So we’re going to 3-2-1 style with your WIPs! What does that mean? For the number of WIPs you have, you’re going to start with sharing that number of sentences for the first one, drop by one for the next one, etc.
So FOR EXAMPLE: If I have 5 WIPs, then I’m going to share 5 sentences out of one of them, 4 sentences out of the next, 3 sentences out of the next, etc. GIVE US THOSE GOOD VIBES WITH ALL YOUR WIPs!
Only have 1 WIP? Share that 1 sentence and be proud! Tag all your writing friends to send them lots of Good Vibes!
---
Cripes I have a lot of WIPs, including some that I've been chipping away at on and off for a year. For the purposes of this, I've just ignored the ones I don't think I'll ever touch again. Almost all McShep, because I am predictable.
7. From my long, post-canon, Jennifer's accidental pregnancy + McShep fic (which needs a HUGE rework and will probably lose 70% of what's already written, including this):
It was true. John remembered being 17, sitting at the large oak dining table, his father telling his mother about Joe Paxton’s kid - he’d moved to New York and now he was sick, dying maybe, all because of his lifestyle choices. He remembered his father’s disapproving frown, his mother’s worried eyes. Remembered Dave making a joke about Joe Jr wearing dresses. Remembered how a month later Danny Trulio pushed him off, said they couldn’t anymore, God would punish them.
He remembered his first years of service, the campaign promises undelivered. John had taken the path of most resistance in every other area of his life, this had been his one compromise, his one personal sacrifice.
6. From the fic set between 2014, when Rodney shows up on John's central Illinois doorstep, and 2021, when their domestic bliss is interrupted by declassification:
He wanted to give you some time to-” Sam doesn’t finish the sentence, but Rodney can conjure up a dozen appropriate endings. Get your affairs in order. Prepare yourselves. Run.
“Fine,” Rodney says, pausing to drain his coffee, as he opens the fridge, takes stock of its contents. “If that’s all then- the farmer’s market is on today, and if I don’t get there by noon all of the good bread is sold out.”
5. From the John leaves the Air Force, but meets Rodney at bar trivia AU I've been writing for a year:
Rodney’s face and neck were flushed red, and his eyes were shining and god, John wanted to kiss him right there, in the middle of the bar. With a start, he realized he could. He could and the worst that would happen is that Rodney would reject him and never speak to him again and John would need to find a new friend.
John shook his head; he could, but he wouldn’t.
“I thought TinTin was Belgian, anyways,” he said.
4. From the one where John actually tries to take Rodney on a date:
John had been into it, between the noises he’d made and the way his hands had gripped Rodney’s biceps, just a bit too hard, he was sure of it. And Rodney was definitely into it. Really, really into it. So why was John still wearing his shirt?
3. From the fluffy, domestic, slowly moving in together fic:
“Oh I’m sorry, not only do I have to face the humiliation of going bald next to a middle aged man with better hair than most 20 year olds, but I also need to ask my ex-girlfriend to order Rogaine for me? I think not. I swung by a few pharmacies, bought out their stock, and now I don’t need to discuss my receding hairline with Jennifer.”
2. From the Season 1 Elizabeth fic:
She doesn’t regret leaving Earth, but sometimes she misses it. The sounds of traffic in Dupont Circle, the wet press of Sedge’s nose, Ethiopian food, being able to buy tampons, instead of awkwardly requisitioning them.
1. From my eclectic collection of episode tags that will one day be something:
She was speaking softly, but intently, and for a moment, Rodney wondered whether this was a come on, whether Katie had reconsidered and whether the memory of his (Cadman’s) forceful and more than a little passionate kiss had finally brought her back for more.
---
This was actually hugely motivating, so tagging @hideoussundemon, @frankthesnek, @logicgunn, @salchat and @dedkake if you feel like it (and apologies if you've already been tagged elsewhere!), and anyone else who's interested!
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pricemarshfield · 3 years
Text
don’t go
A post-canon/canon divergence Climbing Class fic. Read on AO3 here. Does not name the monsters from UD.
The thing is, Chris never believed in ghosts.
Past tense, because though Ouija boards are definitely still bullshit, flesh-eating nightmares who are his friends from beyond made his internal perspective change, a little. Less focused on Ashley (now happily dating Sam, who'd have thunk), less focused on cleverness, less focused on everything other than survival.
The problem with that is, survival is way, way less of a concern everywhere else.
No matter how much Mike asks, Chris won't go to the gym, won't go running with Sam. Instead, he goes to the gun range and shoots, practices with a dozen different guns until he can hit a target from as far as they'll let him try. Someone asks him if he wants to go hunting, and he says, "No, thanks. I don't have the stomach for it." With a practiced, self-deprecating grin and a little anecdote about getting sick in health class after watching Supersize Me (but hey, he'll still eat fast food!), they just laugh, clap his shoulder, and say, "Well, maybe next time."
Chris knows now how to hunt. He won't go because he doesn't want to go back to the mountain, but if something happens, if Jess ends up going on her expedition to find Emily's remains like she keeps talking about, if any circumstance happens that'll force him back out of his safety, he'll be ready. He has a dozen books on how to skin and prepare wild game, has a YouTube watch history that he probably shares with a future serial killer, is slowly working his way through quizzes on edible plants in the area he can forage.
Two weeks after the mountain, his friends all found it normal. Six months after the mountain, he worries he's the only one still caught up in it.
Sam's still going out in wilderness semi-regularly, albeit with so many protein bars in her bag that she could feed a small army. Mike throws himself into whatever the hell project he's involved with. (Chris and Ashley make a point of not asking about it, just to see his face turn red.) Jess rock climbs now, but however it started, now she just seems to be having fun, and Chris doesn't want to ruin the mood by asking why she's doing it. Ashley writes, poems and prose and articles, jumping on their fifteen minutes of fame to get a foot in the door of publishing.
Josh doesn't do much of anything.
They'd found him next to the bodies of Matt and Emily and Jack Fiddler, emaciated and staring at the bodies with a hunger that had caused all of this. (Chris assumes. He wasn't there, wouldn't have been there even if he'd known he would have found Josh okay. He wasn't brave before, let alone now.)
His parents won't let him keep a handgun in the house, so he moves.
Finding an apartment is hard. Nothing to do with the publicity or lack of options or even money; he just is picky. It needs good WiFi, because he's still Chris Hartley. It needs a room without windows, easily defensible and big enough to be able to stockpile food. It needs walls that aren't painted a sickly green color that he jokes is scarier than the idea of going back.
justgidding: Terrible joke!
justgidding: Even if it wasn't in bad taste, it's just not funny.
sn0wflakequ33n: I thought it was funny Chris
gogogadget: thank you jess
screamking: Oh bro is that that place on Hilda St?
screamking: I looked at that place when I was trying to find a place
screamking: Definitely the worst
ladykiller: why did you move out, rich boy? don't you have like six bedrooms in your old place?
sn0wflakequ33n: don't be a dick, mike
smartcookie: Eh
smartcookie: Not the most dickish thing one of us has done this year
justgidding: Okay guys, let's not bring this up over TEXT!!
sn0wflakequ33n: why do you hate the internet sam
smartcookie: I always forget how much of a Luddite you are, babe
ladykiller: i don't know what that means
gogogadget: i feel like we've gotten farther from the point
gogogadget: which is how ugly these walls are
So, yeah. Apartment hunting. Would it be weird to ask Josh what place he found? He needs to move if he's gonna get a gun, and while he knows logically it's not going to help and that he's not in danger, he's pretty sure just having it around would be great for his peace of mind.
Also in the case of monster attack, but at this point, preparedness for monster attacks and his peace of mind are pretty much one and the same. Not only correlational but causal relationship.
gogogadget: josh dyou mind sending me the address?
screamking: Why, you coming over?
gogogadget: trying to find a place
gogogadget: or are you still looking?
screamking: Nah, here
screamking has sent you their location!
---
Chris is sure that the place Josh's sent him will be too expensive, because Chris is comfortable, but Josh is. Well. His family owned a mountain (past tense). But as it turns out, if he moves in now in February rent is cheaper for as long as he lives here. It's still a lot, but it's at the very upper range of his budget rather than completely out of it.
They don't allow pets, but they do allow (legal) guns, and Chris signs the lease right after seeing the place. The property manager seems thrilled, but Chris doesn't really care why; he's just glad to have a place.
Sam and Ashley are the only two friends available to help him move, though Ashley mostly just picks through his books. Chris doesn't have a ton of stuff, and the only really heavy things are the one box of books and his PC. It takes one trip in just the one car and then he's in his apartment, alone.
Unpacking takes the better part of a couple days, but that's mostly just building furniture and setting up his food stores. The place doesn't quite feel like his, but he's alright with that. It feels safe, and that means a lot more.
His neighbor keeps thudding against the wall, though, and at 2am, when it wakes Chris up, he bangs back in annoyance.
"Sorry," his neighbor calls.
"...Josh?" Chris responds.
"Oh, what?" Josh says, and then Chris' phone lights up.
gogogadget: dude what the fuck
screamking: My bad, dude
screamking: Won't happen again
gogogadget: look as long as it's not ghosts i'm okay lol
screamking: I've got some bad news for you
gogogadget: JOSH WE TALKED ABOUT PRANKS
He can hear Josh laughing from across the wall, and Chris texts back a bunch of middle finger emojis.
screamking: If the ghosts do scare you, consider this an open invitation to come over
gogogadget: there are BETTER WAYS to invite me over dude
gogogadget: game nights
gogogadget: weed
gogogadget: just a straight up booty call
Chris doesn't really realize what he's said until after he's sent it, and then he briefly considers skipping out on his lease so he can go lie down outside and wait to die.
screamking: So if I were to do one of those now
screamking: You'd come over?
gogogadget: if you have someone over and that's what the banging's about i'll literally never talk to you again
gogogadget: just so you know
screamking: Nah it's just a tennis ball
screamking: Helps with anxiety
screamking: Dude?
screamking: If this isn't your thing we can still be friends, man
screamking: That better be you knocking on the door
---
justgidding: Chris, wake up!!!
justgidding: You said you'd go to the farmer's market today
justgidding: I WILL break this door down I don't care about your security deposit.
justgidding: Ashley says you're not answering your phone
justgidding: Josh is, though :)
justgidding: I'm texting the group chat
gogogadget: groupchat is one word
justgidding: Get dressed now we're going to the farmer's market!
gogogadget's phone can no longer recieve messages! This could be due to a loss of WiFi or the phone being turned off.
justgidding: Bitch?
gogogadget's phone can no longer recieve messages! This could be due to a loss of WiFi or the phone being turned off.
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cicada-bones · 3 years
Text
The Warrior and the Wildfire
Chapter 3: Oath-Breaker
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Sorry for taking so much longer than I thought I would! But I hope it was worth the wait! Please let me know what you think- your comments are seriously what keeps me going. love you all sm ❤︎
word count: 4108
Masterlist / Ao3 / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter
It was fresh, and completely unmistakable. Within the past few hours, Lorcan Salvaterre had passed by Mistward, heading for the sea.
Rowan immediately swooped low, following the scent to where it meandered over the forest floor, his heart pounding in his chest. The trail skirted around the edge of Mistward’s perimeter, following a path that was just out of their sightline, but close enough that in the morning, the scouts would find it immediately.
It almost felt like a message.
Rowan shifted in mid-air, landing hard on his heels and already drawing the wind towards him from all directions, searching for anything, any whisper of a dark form, flitting between the oaks, quick as a shadow –
But there was nothing. Only the memory.
Rowan began to run, following the trail westward. Even though Lorcan had passed through these trees barely a few hours ago, the wind couldn’t sense him. He was already gone, miles and miles ahead. Out of the reach of Rowan’s wind.
As the trail solidified before him, Rowan’s stride lengthened, his footing becoming more sure with each step. And he longed to be able to shift again, to use the wind to propel him over the land.
He could fly so much faster than he could run, but then he risked losing the scent – a chance he could not take. So instead Rowan dug his feet into the earth, tearing through the forest mists. A predator on the hunt.
Only one thought in his head.
Why in rutting hell was Lorcan Salvaterre trying to get his attention?
···
Fenrys wasn’t there when she found out.
He was out on a run, hunting through the forests around Doranelle. Chasing down after whispers of the forest-spirits. He knew they were here: the elemental beings, as ancient as the very stones and mountains and valleys. Older than history – than time itself.
Fenrys would hear them in the night – sounds of crashing rock and tearing metal, the felling of trees when no wind blew. Still fighting their ancient wars, either uncaring or ignorant of the affairs of lesser beings. But Fenrys had never seen them, nor did he know of anyone who had.
Every now and again, he would glance a fairy or two. One of the Little Folk, going about their little-great-deeds. But it was never when he was looking for them.
It was something he and Connall used to do as young ones – charge through the forest, hunting for fairies. For the heroes of the tales their mother would tell them, over glasses of sweet fruit juice on lazy summer afternoons. Stories of battles and warriors and the hidden magic of the land. To this day, Fenrys didn’t know whether the stories were true, or if she had made them up herself.
He knew it was only purposeless distraction, and one that he would likely pay for when he returned. But he just had no idea how much.
So no, Fenrys wasn’t in the palace when Maeve found out.
But Connall was.
···
The trail was nearly a straight shot through the woods, barely deviating for trees and boulders. Lorcan was really hauling ass. And as he drew closer and closer to the coastline, and the little market town that was waiting for him there, Rowan felt his suspicions begin to grow.
It was nearing evening when Rowan finally began to hear little signs of approaching civilization – the neighing of horses, the soft thumps of an axe chopping wood. But the trail pushed on, breaching the edges of the trees, following over the cobbles through the market, out towards the end of the main street, until it came to a stop. Right at the end of the long wooden dock.
Rowan stood at the brink, right where the path met the sea. And he could feel fury coiling in his gut.
Lorcan had left. And Rowan thought he might be able to guess where his former commander was headed. But before he decided anything, before he made a plan, he needed to be absolutely sure.
Rowan turned on his heels, headed back into the village. His cloak was pulled high over his head, hiding much of his face. He let his body fall into a slump, hiding its powerful shape. Evening was coming on, and if he kept his movements sloppy and wide, he could be just another traveler, coming to wet his throat with watered-down ale.
Outside the pub, a young maid was lighting the lamps, her hair neat and apron clean. When she looked up at him, Rowan caught the glint of sharp eyes. Maybe he wouldn’t even need to go inside the tavern.
“Hello miss,” Rowan said, ever so slightly shifting his accent, letting the words fall from his mouth like marbles. “Might you be able to tell me where I could hire passage on a ship?”
Her face twisted shrewdly, and she gave him a quick once over as she straightened and said, “Depends on where you’re goin’. And how much coin you’ve got t’ spend.”
Rowan nodded, making sure to keep his clothes hidden with the cloak, knowing that an accidental glint of silver from one of his hidden blades might be enough for her to call for help from inside the tavern. And that last thing he wanted was trouble. “When was your last ship headed for Adarlan? And when will you be expecting the next one? It doesn’t have to be fast, or comfortable.”
Her expression tightened, but she answered reasonably enough. “We get a fair few ships headed to the western continent this time o’ year – the sheep’ve just been shorn and ships head that a-way bearing wool to trade for furs from the north, and steel from the south. I’m pretty sure we had a ship go through this morning.”
“And the next?” Rowan prompted, his expression schooled into neutrality.
“If you ask around the dockyards, I’m sure you might find another ship headin’ that way – once the tide comes in. And if not, then I’m sure there’ll be another come tomorrow.”
“Thank you.” Rowan slipped the girl a coin. “By chance, you didn’t catch another traveler come through here today, heading the same direction – asking questions? Tall, dark hair, harsh look?”
The shrewd look fell into a scowl. “Maybe. Either way, my answer’ll cost more’n just a copper.”
Rowan slipped her another couple of coins, and she pocketed them. But her scowl didn’t soften.
“I might’ve seen your man. Came through around mid-morning, in a massive rush. Massive man, at that. Huge. Musta been six, nearly seven feet? I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man that tall. And he nearly knocked me over coming in the pub to ask after passage to Rifthold. Kept his face covered though, so I couldn’t be sure.”
Rowan nodded again, but before the maid could turn to leave, he asked, “Oh – and do you happen to know a place where I could send a letter?”
“If you give it to me, I can get it to my mother and she’ll give it to the courier when he comes ‘round in the mornin’. You gonna come in for a pint?”
The maid held open the door, and Rowan followed her in, thinking it much easier to just go along with the girl, and far too wrapped up in his thoughts to come up with a polite refusal that wouldn’t leave her even more suspicious than she already was.
The tavern wasn’t bustling, but it was far from empty either. A few farmers sat at a table in the far corner, enjoying a few beers after a long day’s work, while a few younger boys, perhaps their sons, were laughing and joking across the room. There were a few other individuals – travelers like himself, or people who lived and worked in the village. But the majority of the bar was filled with sailors – teasing and joking and climbing all over each other, celebrating their last night on dry ground for many weeks to come.
Rowan headed for a quiet corner, flagging down the waitress and settling onto a creaky wooden bench. He ordered some bread and ale, which she had brought over in mere seconds, and he began to pick at it mindlessly.
There could be no doubt. Lorcan was heading for Adarlan, for Rifthold. For Aelin.
Maeve had sent him to go after Aelin. And she had ordered him to pass by Mistward, Mistward specifically, so that Rowan would be drawn into the conflict. Maybe they were planning on using him to get to Aelin, to follow him in order to find her.
The question was, why only Lorcan? Where were the twins? Gavriel? Vaughan? Would they follow Lorcan? Were they already headed for Adarlan?
Rationally, Rowan knew that Aelin was safe. That she was still somewhere in the middle of the ocean, on her way to Rifthold. But it took all of his self-control to keep himself from shifting right there, in the middle of this tavern filled with mortals, and fly out into the ocean skies to find her.
What really worried him was the idea that he would get there too late. That even if he got on a ship right at that moment, he would get to Rifthold after she had already been found, taken, overwhelmed. The idea that there were already forces there, waiting to seize her.
And no matter what, Lorcan would arrive in Rifthold hours or days before Rowan would be able to, and well before Aelin could read any letter he sent. Not that he even knew where he could send a letter. All he knew was that she used to own a hidden apartment in the slums, and that for the past six months, she had lived in a stone tower in the castle.
It seemed unlikely that she would return to either. Both were compromised, the castle being an obviously insane choice. Unless of course she had something hidden up her sleeve that she had kept from Rowan. Which felt distinctly possible. And Arobynn had to know about the apartment. She had nowhere safe to go, and Rowan had nowhere safe he could send a warning.
So the only way he would be able to tell her about Lorcan would be to go there himself. To break his oath.
Rowan knew that he could, and without much difficulty at that. But it still felt wrong – a violation of trust. If he left Wendlyn without being told to by Aelin, he would be going against her wishes. He would be taking advantage, both of the flexibility of their bond and of her trust in him.
And it definitely didn’t make things any easier that he so desperately wanted to leave in the first place. It felt like he was exploiting the opportunity to be close to her again, no matter how rationally necessary it might be. And there was a chance that she might not forgive him for it.
But no matter how much that might sting, he couldn’t live through following her requests to the letter, and Aelin dying because of it.
So, Lorcan was headed for Rifthold. And soon, Rowan would be heading there as well.
Rowan tore into the bread, newly reinvigorated. He didn’t see any reason to return to Mistward, there wasn’t anything there worth sacrificing another day for. But he did feel bad about leaving without any notice. Deserting Emrys and Malakai, and…Luca.
So as he ate, Rowan dug out a piece of paper from his pack and began to write.
Emrys,
I’m sorry. Something came up. Tell Luca to remember to practice swings off his left side just as much as his right, I don’t care if they hurt more.
When I see her, I’ll tell her you say hello.
Then he folded up the paper and sealed it, leaving it unmarked. Hopefully, even if someone – such as that suspicious maid – opened the letter to see what it said, what he wrote would be meaningless.
He spent the rest of the evening listening to the sailors’ conversation, until he heard mention of a crew headed for Rifthold. The barmaid hadn’t lied – it was a ship bearing crates of wool heading to Adarlan to trade for steel. This was their last night ashore, and they were setting sail sometime in the early morning, just before the tide shifted.
So Rowan waited a few minutes more, then left the waitress his fee, gave the maid his letter, and walked out into the lamplit village, his jaw squared and his shoulders set. Determined.
···
Fenrys returned to broken furniture. Splintered wood and broken glass. Twisted metal and shattered stone. That was the first thing he noticed.
The second thing he noticed was the silence. It stretched its fingers through the walls and corridors and archways, until it brushed through to his skin. Until it was the only touch he could feel.
Silence.
Silence.
Silence.
Where there should be sound.
The third thing he noticed was the bodies. Their touch was even colder than the quiet. There was no red, no black. None of the usual gory signs of death. Just nothing. An absence.
Fenrys worked his way through the wreckage, his hands empty of feeling, his heart a stone in his chest. His intestines resting somewhere near his toes.
Until he reached their rooms, and found Connall in a dark huddle across the sea of space, and he was still breathing and it felt like Fenrys could breathe again too, but then Connall spoke and sound returned to the world, “Why did he leave? Why did he leave us?” and his voice was so full of fear that Fenrys felt tears sprout from his eyes like wings.
“Who?” Fenrys asked. “Who, Con? What happened?”
But then the palace stones began to thunder, and the questions that had seemed so important only a moment ago fell from his mind on a scattered breeze.
···
Rowan flitted into a dark alleyway around the back of the tavern, and once he was sure there was no one there to see, he shifted into his hawk and flew out over the small village.
From his eavesdropping earlier, he had learned that the ship headed for Rifthold was an old galleon vessel near the edge of the docks, bearing white and yellow flags. It had a large enough cargo bay that hopefully Rowan would be able to find a place to stow away, but wasn’t so large that the journey would take even longer than it should. Which was already far, far too long for his liking.
Rowan circled high above the ship a few times, making sure that he appeared as nothing more than just another sea bird, hunting for its dinner. Although most of the crew, including the captain and first mate, appeared to be drinking away their pay on the floor of the tavern in the village, the ship wasn’t completely empty.
His winds told him that at least three men were asleep below decks, their rumbling snores echoing through the wooden beams. But a few lamps still shone, and with their light Rowan could see a few flickering shadows just beneath the upper deck that made him think not all of the sailors were yet asleep.
So Rowan would have to be extremely careful in making his approach.
He waited for long minutes for those lights to vanish, and shadows to disappear. And the second they did Rowan was sailing down among the rigging, twisting and turning around the sails and masts until he could be absolutely sure that there weren’t any watchful eyes to mark his presence.
Then Rowan was swooping down into the maze of rooms below decks, making sure to avoid the various sleeping quarters, kitchens, and officers’ cabins. Heading towards the hold at the very bottom of the ship in as straight of a path as he could.
Rowan found a dark corner behind a case of flour and barrel of barley, and then shifted back into his Fae form. Once they passed the halfway mark between Adarlan and Wendlyn, magic would stop working, and he wouldn’t be able to move between forms. He had to find a place he could hide in during the day that was large enough for his Fae body. A task far easier said than done.
A ship like this had a crew in the dozens, and quarters were cramped all to hell. Every piece of available space was used, from every corner to closet and even the toilets. Only the captain would have room to stretch his legs, and even then, it was barely by a few feet. Nothing like the space he would need in order to not attract attention.
Rowan looked over the hold once again, scanning for anything that could possibly be large enough. Then he nearly huffed a laugh when he realized exactly what he needed to do.
···
When morning came, Rowan was crammed into a wooden case lined with wool. The back panel carefully pried out and its nails removed, but then leaned carefully back into place to allow him a quick exit. And the majority of the wool was now taking a trip down the coastline.
He had spent an hour or so that night carefully removing armfuls of the fiber and tossing it overboard, using his wind to propel it from the shipyard and out to sea, leaving only just enough room for himself. It was crammed, scratchy, uncomfortable, and smelled like sheep dung, but it would do.
Now, as the ship slowly meandered its way through the reef and out into open ocean, with the occasional shouts and curses of the sailors toiling above, Rowan had nothing to do but think.
For the next month.
It might just be the longest month of his life. At least he couldn’t complain about not having enough time to plan.
Aelin certainly would have a strategy, and by the time he reached her, she would have been working away at it for nearly two weeks. And while he could only guess at her aims, he knew that when he reached her, he would do whatever he could to help her reach those goals.
The question was, should he reach her at all?
Rowan knew he needed to warn her about Lorcan, but once he was actually in Rifthold, that could be done in many ways – not just by contacting her in person. And deep in his bones, Rowan knew that Lorcan had dragged him here on purpose. That the male had wanted him to follow, to pursue. There were faster ways to travel from Doranelle to the sea than to go by Mistward.
So wouldn’t it be playing right into Lorcan’s hands to join up with Aelin? Giving him exactly what he wanted?
Lorcan wasn’t familiar enough with Aelin’s scent, nor with the city of Rifthold, to track her down by himself. He would be digging in the dark – except for the trail that Rowan would give him, as easily as handing over their lives like so much coin.
Perhaps Rowan could go to Rifthold, warn Aelin anonymously, and track down Lorcan by himself. And the faster he rid himself of his former commander, the sooner Rowan would be able to reunite with his Queen.
The pain of that future made him physically flinch.
And it wasn’t only the idea of being in the same city, or even just on the same continent, as Aelin and not being beside her. It was the thought of Lorcan, Lorcan, his commander of nearly three centuries, someone he had almost once thought of as a brother, or even a friend, Lorcan, as someone he needed to dispose of.
Someone who was his enemy.
It was a heavy, uncomfortable weight. It felt strange, and wrong, to have someone he had so trusted become such a dangerous enemy. No matter how necessary he knew it might be, Rowan couldn’t really think of killing him.
It would be like destroying a part of himself, an old part, but a necessary one.
Without Lorcan, he wouldn’t have become the person he was today, wouldn’t know the things he knew, or understand what he now did. About war and sacrifice and leadership and teaching.
Lorcan had been a pillar in his life when he needed one. And while Rowan hadn’t loved him, he had respected him.
And now they were enemies.
Rowan scowled, the crate somehow becoming even more uncomfortable.
What he did know was how Lorcan worked, how he operated. If Rowan did decided to reunite with Aelin, then he would have to keep his distance. Because Lorcan was expert at finding pressure points, and using them to his advantage.
Lorcan already knew that Aelin had turned Rowan away from Maeve, knew that Rowan had chosen her over his oath, over his life.
Idiot. He was such an idiot when it came to her.
If Lorcan found out that there was anything more, that there were other, deeper feelings –
No, Rowan could keep his distance. He could keep those thoughts under control because he had to. Not only because they did no good, but because they might get Aelin killed. Or worse, captured and taken back to Maeve.
But Rowan knew that he wouldn’t be able to deal with Lorcan without her – that he wouldn’t be able to return to Rifthold without reuniting with her. No matter how much easier it might be to keep her safe if he stayed away.
The only thing that was keeping him sane was the thought that at the end of this journey through hell, stuffed in this tiny rutting box that smelled like dung, unable to lay down properly for weeks, was an image of Aelin’s face. Even if she wasn’t happy to see him, even if she didn’t forgive him breaking his oath.
For the first time in weeks, he was heading towards her, instead of away.
So Rowan curled up and turned on his side, and tried to get some sleep, as the shouts of the sailors above him faded into the rising dawn.
···
Across Wendlyn, Emrys was stirring a large pot of rabbit stew, listening to the potatoes crackling as they fried on the stove. It was a lot of work, feeding this many people each and every day. But Emrys loved it, caring for this large family of his. Making sure they were all fed. Taking in strays.
Aelin Galathynius had been such a stray, and he couldn’t say that he didn’t miss her. But he knew that she was where she was meant to be, doing what she was meant to do. No matter what that prince said, or how much he tried to hide, Emrys knew that Aelin had survived her encounter with Maeve, that they both had escaped. Together. And now she’d moved on to other – perhaps even greater – foes.
Even when she was all the way across the ocean Emrys was worried about her.
The old male just sighed, then shuffled over to the counter to begin chopping scallions to add to the stew.
But before he could start, he was interrupted by the afternoon courier, bearing a letter for him – of all people.
Emrys wiped his hands off on his apron, and took the letter from the boy’s fingers. It was unmarked, but the paper was old and worn. As if it had lived in someone’s saddlebags for some time.
Emrys ripped it open, then read through it. Unable to keep a smile off his face.
That scoundrel.
He began to untie his apron, then headed out of the kitchen to go find Luca. Emrys couldn’t really find it in himself to be disappointed in the prince, even if he had abandoned them. Had left Luca with his grief and his guilt.
The boy had finally told him and Malakai about what had happened, and they had talked and cried together into the wee hours of the morning. Even so, Emrys had really hoped that Rowan might be there to help Luca through that grief. He knew that Luca had too.
But it was not to be. Perhaps they might see each other again, in years to come. Perhaps Rowan might even be their king one day.
Emrys almost wanted to laugh. He could already see the scowl that would twist Malakai’s face when he told him the news. Rowan, gone off to chase the future. Leaving them to tend to this little piece of the present.
When Emrys told Luca what was in the letter, the boy smiled too.
···
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justlookfrightened · 4 years
Text
Home Sweet Home
Prompt: house hunting
“Bits, did you have anything special planned for today?”
Jack sat at the island, the remains of his peanut butter toast and protein shake pushed to the side while he tapped at his laptop keyboard.
“Special? No,” Bitty said, staring at the coffee maker like he was willing it to brew faster. “I wanted to go to the market, and there’s a couple of new recipes I want to try out for my vlog. But nothing important. Why?”
Bitty arched an eyebrow at Jack.
“Now that you’re all sweaty from your run, did you want to go back to bed?”
“Tempting,” Jack said, “but --”
“But if you want to do that, you’re in charge of changing the sheets later,” Bitty said.
“Fine,” Jack said. “But that wasn’t what I was talking about.”
“Okay?”
“You know my birthday’s next week,” Jack said.
“Of course,” Bitty said. “We’re having a party, remember? You’re going to grill, I’m doing desserts and sides, your parents are coming down … ”
“I know,” Jack said. “Remember when you were asking what I wanted for a gift?”
“DId you come up with something?” Bitty said. “Because I have been thinking on it, and I’m drawing a blank. When you want something, you usually buy it, and that makes gift-giving a little difficult.”
“I want a house.”
“What?”
“I want a house. We’ve had this condo for four years, and it’s nice, but I have four more years on my contract,” Jack said. “We’ll be here a while. And I think this is going to be home for us. Providence, I mean. So, yeah, I want a house.”
“Jack,” Bitty said, finally turning completely away from the coffee maker, “I can’t buy you a house. I mean, things are going pretty well for me, and the new book is out in a couple of months, but …”
“Of course you can,” Jack said. “We can afford a house.”
“You can afford a house,” Bitty said.
“We can,” Jack said. “Community property, remember? We share a bank account.”
“But that’s just the checking account,” Bitty said. “For like, groceries and utility bills. And sure, maybe I spend a little too much on clothes and baking supplies. And I know you can afford a house, but how is that a present from me to you?”
“Because I want you to do it with me?” Jack said. ”I want to pick a place out together, and to decorate it -- well, mostly for you to decorate it -- and I want it to be our home. I want there to be space for us to have guests, and for us maybe to have kids one day. I’m going to be thirty years old, Bits. I want to live like a grownup.”
Bitty looked pointedly around the condo, from the kitchen with its matching dish towels and oven mitts to the painting over the sofa and the plants in the corner.
“This … is not living like a grown-up?” Bitty said. “Going to bed at eleven and up by seven for a run, even on Sunday?”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Jack said. “I just thought that, maybe it’s time for some more space? We can get you a bigger kitchen.”
“Fine,” Bitty said. “But because it’s something you want. You are not buying me a house for your birthday. What did you want to do about it today? Because don’t we need to, like, find an agent and everything?”
“I guess,” Jack said. “Maybe once we know what we want? I found a few open houses we can check out. Look.”
Bitty pulled a stool closer and turned the laptop towards him. Jack watched his eyes as he read, looked at pictures, scrolled down and read and looked again.
“Jack, those houses are all over a million dollars,” Bitty finally said, looking a little pale.
“I know,” Jack said. “But they’re nice. And did you see the kitchen in the one on the water in Cranston?”
“The one that’s over $2 million?” Bitty said. “We could build a big house that’s half kitchen for half that much.”
Jack shrugged.
“Probably not in that location. It’s a quick commute to the arena and the training facility. But if you want to buy property to build something, we might have to go further out,” Jack said. “Would you rather do that?”
“Build a house?” Bitty said. “Jack, I don’t know the first thing about building a house, and neither do you.”
“Well, I wasn’t thinking we’d build it ourselves,” Jack said. “We’d hire someone. Unless you want to bake a house.”
“Jack Laurent Zimmermann, we are not living in a gingerbread house.”
“But do you want to go to these open houses?” Jack said. “Get an idea of what we want and what’s available? For my birthday?”
Jack tried to do that thing Bitty did to him, where he looked up with huge, pleading eyes, but he was pretty sure he just looked like a demented seal instead of a cute puppy.
Bitty probably thought so too, but he laughed and said, “Fine. The farmer’s market opens in fifteen minutes. Let me go before all the good stuff is gone and then we can go look at houses.”
There must have been a lot of good stuff, because it was nearly noon by the time Bitty was back and had the shopping stowed. Then he had to shower and change. (“I need to look like a potential homebuyer, Jack, not a grocery shopper!” “What’s the difference?” Apparently, in Bitty’s mind, homebuyers dressed like they were going to casual office jobs. Except with khaki shorts instead of trousers because it was nearly 34 degrees outside.)
“Come on, Bits, I don’t want to be late!” Jack said.
“What, you’re afraid all the good houses will be gone?” Bitty asked. “I mean, is there seriously one house you have your heart set on? Because otherwise, I don’t think we have to worry. We’re just going to get an idea of what’s out there today, right?”
“Right,” Jack said.
As soon as they were in the car, he headed for Cranston. There were several places in that area that had open houses, including the place on the river. Two and a quarter million -- more than that even -- was a lot, more than Jack had ever spent on anything in his life, but he had the money. They had the money.
All it would take would be a call to his people. Well, to his lawyer, the one he counted on for everything except contract negotiations. Shelby would call his financial people and take care of everything.
The house was … a lot. Bitty did like the kitchen, especially the double oven and what looked like acres of counter space. There was an island with a breakfast bar where they could eat and where Jack could sit to watch Bitty bake, and look out the windows and over the deck to the water.
“My husband does video segments about baking and writes cookbooks,” Jack told Aila, the listing agent. “So the kitchen is really important.”
The master bedroom wasn’t huge, but neither he nor Bitty were the type to loll in bed all day. And there was a guest house where the parents could stay when they visited.
“The property can be sold without the guesthouse,” Aila said as she not-so-helpfully followed them from room to room. There were no other lookers at the moment, so it made sense, but Jack would have preferred a bit more privacy. That would have helped him sell Bitty on the place himself.
“No, if we bought it we’d want the guesthouse,” Jack assured her.
“Don’t you think it’s a little too … I dunno, grand? For us,” Bitty said, looking down from the second floor landing.
“My parents’ place is bigger,” Jack said. “You seem comfortable enough there.”
“Now we’re competing with a movie star and a hockey legend?” Bitty said. “We’ve never owned a house before.”
“Can we walk around outside?” Jack said, steering Bitty toward the French doors that led off the dining room.
“Of course,” Aila said. “You’ll notice the sophisticated multi-level outdoor living space!”
“What does that even mean?” Bitty muttered, before trudging across the deck and into the grass to look back at the house.
He came back to Jack and said, “Let’s go. This isn’t the place for us.”
“What?”
“Unless you were sure you wanted this house specifically?”
“No. But --”
“Then let’s keep looking,” Bitty said.
“It’s like you saw a ghost,” Jack said. “Is it haunted?”
“Might as well be,” Bitty said.
“What?”
“We can’t move here,” Bitty said. “It’s not big enough.”
“A four-bedroom five-bathroom house with an in-ground pool and separate coach house isn’t big enough?”
Jack knew he sounded incredulous. He was incredulous. The house Bitty’s parents lived in -- the house Bitty had lived in as a high school student -- had four bedrooms, sure, but it was about half the size of this place. Without the coach house. And it only had two bathrooms.
Besides, Bitty usually opted for practicality over ostentation. The only really expensive things he seemed to covet were kitchen appliances.
“All that building?” Bitty said. “On a lot that’s just over a half-acre? Where would we put the rink?”
“What rink?”
“The outdoor rink that you want to build in the backyard for little Johnny or Sally to learn to skate on,” Bitty said. “So they can skate and come in for lunch and go right back outside.”
“We don’t have to have a rink,” Jack said.
“No, we don’t have to,” Bitty said. “But when you talk about when you were little, you talk about skating with your dad all the time. And you get this little smile, like just thinking about it makes you happy.”
“Maybe our kids won’t even like skating,” Jack said.
“But you still will,” Bitty said. “So if you don’t absolutely love this place already, let’s move on.”
“But the kitchen is so great,” Jack said. “Did you see the breakfast bar?”
“We can remodel the kitchen in another house if we want to,” Bitty said. “But we can’t magically make more property here. Do you have other places to visit?”
“There’s a list,” Jack said.
From Cranston they headed south to Barrington, where Jack had seen a few open houses advertised. One house was too small (despite four bedrooms and three bathrooms) and one Bitty ruled out immediately (“I know it’s on the water and it’s beautiful, but $1.35 million for a place with no air conditioning?”). Bitty made the same complaint about an 1894 six-bedroom house on the market for just under a million, but turned down a house a hundred years newer (with central air) because it was part of a suburban development and didn’t have a big enough yard oir mature trees.
When they got home, Bitty started pulling out ingredients for a strawberry rhubarb pie.
“I thought you had some new recipes to try,” Jack said.
“I do,” Bitty said. “But right now seems like a good time for comfort food.”
“Can we make a list of what we want in a house?” Jack said. “What’s important and what’s negotiable?”
“We need space,” Bitty said. “A big yard for a rink. Even a smallish rink will take a lot of space.”
Jack wrote that down.
“It might be better to look further out, then,” he said.
“I’d also like to be close to the city,” Bitty said. “But maybe that’s not as important. I don’t want to build new, though. Not for a first house. My Aunt Judy and Uncle Bob built themselves a brand new home on a lake in Georgia, put in a home theater sound system to watch movies in the great room, and it turned out you could hear it better in the bedrooms upstairs than sitting in front of the TV. I don’t want to make mistakes like that.”
They could probably find and hire a better architect -- and a sound engineer, if it came to designing a home theater -- than Bitty’s Aunt Judy, but Jack kept that thought to himself. If Bitty didn’t want to supervise the construction of a house, Jack wasn’t about to make him, and there was no way Jack could do it during the season.
“It needs to have a good kitchen,” Jack said instead. “I mean, we can get new appliances and do some remodeling, but there has to be enough space for you to work and for us to eat.”
“For you to distract me, you mean,” Bitty said, but he looked fond, and didn’t object, so Jack added it to the list.
“Good schools,” Jack said. “A patio or deck, or at least room for one, and space for a decent gym. And mature trees.”
Bitty nodded at all of that, then said, “I think maybe we should set a budget, then you can talk to Shelby about how we pay for it? And who to work with as a buyer’s agent?”
“You thought two and a half million was too much,” Jack said.
“Unless the house cleans itself and shovels its own snow in the winter,” Bitty said.
“A million and a half?” Jack said. “As a target?”
Bitty shook his head like he was exasperated, but then he grinned.
“It’s your money,” he said.
“No, it’s our money,” Jack said.
The next day, while Bitty was on calls about the next cookbook, Jack called Shelby.
“Bitty and I want to buy a house,” he said. “But we need help.”
“Okay,” Shelby said. “Help how?”
“Help with finding an agent, knowing what questions to ask, how to do the money part of it,” Jack said. “I mean, I think we can afford most places, but I don’t know the mechanics of it.”
“We can help with that,” Shelby said. “Let me make some calls and set you up with a buyer’s agent. They can help with the search, and getting a home inspection and all that. And I’ll get the financial team together to run some numbers. It might make more sense, tax-wise, to get a mortgage, or you might find a seller who will give you a discount for cash. Do you have an idea about the budget you’re looking at?”
“Well, Bits and I went out to a few open houses yesterday,” Jack said.
“You did?” Shelby said. “Oh, my gosh. The agents must have been falling all over themselves. If they recognized you.”
“Yeah, well,” Jack shrugged. Maybe that was why the agents followed them around so much.
“The most expensive place was listed at $2.35 mil,” Jack said. “I thought it was pretty nice, but Bitty thought it was too much.”
“Too much money? Too much house?” Shelby asked. “Do you remember the address?”
“Yeah,” Jack said, and read the address off his phone. “Too much money, yes, and he said it was a bit too grand. But he also thought the property was too small. He seems to think we need room to put in an outdoor rink in the winter.”
“He wants a rink?”
“He thinks I want a rink.”
“Do you?” Shelby asked.
“It would be nice,” Jack said. “I guess. Especially if we ever have kids. But it’s not a deal-breaker for me.”
“What is it that you want?”
“I want Bits to have a great kitchen,” Jack said. “But Bitty pointed out that we can remodel the kitchen, as long as there’s room.”
“Sounds like you two spent some time talking about this,” Shelby said.
“Yeah,” Jack said.
“Okay, let me look for a buyer’s agent,” she said. “I can have some names to you tomorrow. And Jack, congratulations. I know this is a big step.”
Things moved quickly after that. Shelby provided a list of possible agents, along with her recommendation, whom Bitty and Jack agreed to hire. By the Thursday of that week, they had a meeting with the agent, Melissa Field.
“It was so nice of you to come to us,” Bitty said, seating Melissa in the dining room. “Can I get you coffee? Tea? Pie?”
“Shelby said your pie is not to be missed,” Melissa said. “So yes, please. Coffee, too, if it’s not any trouble.”
“No trouble at all,” Bitty said. “I have a traditional cherry pie and a ginger peach.”
“Ooh, ginger peach,” Melissa said.
“Good choice.”
Jack took a seat as Bitty disappeared into the kitchen.
“Did I pick right?” Melissa asked.
“They’re both great,” Jack said. “Though I think I prefer the cherry, so yeah, perfect choice. More cherry for me.”
“Can you tell me about why you decided now was the time to buy a house?” Melissa asked.
“It’s not just my decision,” Jack said. “It’s Bitty’s too. But I am turning 30 next week, and my contract will keep us here for at least the next few years, and it seemed like time to put down some roots.”
Melissa nodded.
“Do you want to wait for Eric to talk about what you’re looking for?” she asked.
“That would be best,” Jack said.
Bitty bustled in and out, first bringing coffee with cream and sugar, then tea for Jack, then three slices of pie: two ginger peach and a sliver of cherry for Jack.
Melissa took them through a very long checklist of what they wanted, what they didn’t want and what they just didn’t care about. Baseboard heat? Built in shelves? Gas fireplaces?
“But air conditioning is important,” Bitty said.
“Okay,” she said. “It’s a buyer’s market, especially just now with school about to start, and there are several properties for sale that might fit the bill. Let me send you information tomorrow and we can make maybe two or three appointments for the weekend. If we have to, we can do the same thing next week, and the week after, until you’re comfortable making a choice.”
“Sounds good,” Jack said.
On Saturday, Melissa had three appointments set up. The first was an 1890 Victorian in Warwick, with five bedrooms and three and half bathrooms and more than two acres of property.
It had been updated inside, Melissa said as she led the way inside, with central air and new plumbing and electrical systems.
Bitty let out a bark of laughter as soon as they entered the living room.
“Dog people, I guess?” he said, nodding at the oil portrait of the German shepherd over the fireplace.
But he wasn’t laughing at the open kitchen, or the laundry room/mud room/butler’s pantry, which had an extra fridge and stove. It was also well within the budget at $1.2 million.
Next was a house in North Smithfield with four bedrooms and six bathrooms, which seemed disproportionate to Jack. But the kitchen was spacious, as was the yard, and it already had a play set, which made Jack imagine what it would be like with kids. Listed at just over a million dollars, the price was no obstacle,but it didn’t have as much character as the first one.
“I’ve saved the best for last,” Melissa said, driving them toward Lincoln. “This is the biggest of the three, with two separate in-law units, an adjoining workshop or studio that you can use for a gym, an in-ground pool, six-car garage and more than four acres.”
The main house, whose oldest parts dated to 1812, was gorgeous, with a stone exterior and clean lines. But the adjoining garage and workshop didn’t seem to match the aesthetic. Then again, what did Jack know about aesthetics?
Bitty was taken with the open land, Jack could see.
The inside of the house was also good, until Jack saw the kitchen. How could a six-bedroom house have a galley-style kitchen?
Jack knew Bitty was disappointed in the kitchen as well, but he didn’t say so in front of Melissa.
“Any thoughts?” Melissa asked.
“Let us talk for a while,” Jack said. “Can I call you this evening? Or tomorrow. I know it’s Sunday.”
“Either is fine,” Melissa said, dropping them at the condo building.
“Come on, bud,” Jack said, heading for Bitty’s favorite diner instead of going upstairs. “Let’s talk about it over food.”
They settled into the booth, ordered and waited for their meals before getting down to business.
“It has to be the last one,” Bitty said, after inhaling half of his grilled cheese. “It’s the biggest, and has the most property, and it has plenty of room for people to stay, and for a gym, too. And it wasn’t any more expensive. Less than the one in Warwick.”
“But the kitchen is small,” Jack said, pulling the toothpick out of his turkey club.
“Maybe we could add on?” Bitty said. “Or not. The appliances are good. I liked the double oven.”
“I don’t know,” Jack said. “It’s in the old part of the house, so I’m not sure an addition would work. What about the one in Smithfield?”
“It ticked all the boxes” Bitty acknowledged. “But didn’t love it. I can’t really say why. Too boxy, maybe?
Jack nodded in acknowledgement, chewed and swallowed. “That leaves the one in Warwick.”
“With Rin Tin Tin?” Bitty said.
“We don’t have to keep the portrait,” Jack said.
“It only had a one-car, detached garage,” Bitty said.
“That would probably be easier to expand than the kitchen,” Jack said.
“Or not,” Bitty said. “You don’t know that.”
“I didn’t really like that whole six-car garage thing in Lincoln,” Jack said. “It’s basically attached to the house, but it’s like a big shed. We could do so much better expanding the garage on the one in Warwick. And it has a view of the water.”
“From the third floor,” Bitty said. “How’re those knees holding up, Mr. NHL Player?”
“Fine,” Jack said, a little stiffly. “What do you have against the house in Warwick? You liked it when we saw it, especially the butler’s pantry and laundry room.”
“Nothing,” Bitty said. “Well, besides the dog picture. Could you imagine that room with Lardo’s painting? But we would need a bigger garage, at the very least.”
“I really don’t think that would be a problem,” Jack said. “It’s old, but it’s not landmarked or anything and there’s plenty of room. And it’s not far from Marty and his family. Why are you so set on the one in Lincoln?”
“It seems like a better deal,” Bitty said. “More space -- bigger lot, bigger house, more bedrooms -- for less money. You shouldn’t turn that down just so I have a bigger kitchen to mess up.”
Jack dragged the last of Bitty’s fries through a dollop of mayonnaise.
“I still don’t understand how you like that,” Bitty said.
“It reminds me of home,” Jack said. “And that’s what it is about the kitchen. For me, home is the place where I sit and watch you bake, and eat what you cook, and listen to you go on about butter and shortening and a thousand other things. If I can’t do that, the house won’t be home, no matter how many cars will fit in the garage.
“I want that, and if we do end up with kids, I want there to be room for them to sit in the kitchen and have a snack after school, and do their homework, and talk to us. Remember the way everyone gravitated to the kitchen in the Haus? It wasn’t like that before you got there, but I want it to be like that.”
“So you like the million-dollar house in Warwick because it has the potential to be more like the falling-down frat house we lived in in college?”
“Yes,” Jack said.
“Then let’s buy that one,” Bitty said.
“You’re sure you don’t want to see more?” Jack said.
“Do you?” Bitty said. “I do like that house, and I loved the view from the kitchen. As long as it passes the inspection and all that.”
“Then let’s do it,” Jack said. “I’ll call Melissa when we get home.”
On Monday, Jack woke up to a bouncy Bitty who was already tying his running shoes.
“Coming with, bud?”
“Yep,” Bitty said. “It’s your birthday. And I intend to follow you into the shower when we get back. Fair warning.”
“Is that a threat or a promise?”
Bitty laughed, then said, “You have to pick up your parents after lunch, so we have to take advantage of our opportunities.”
The run was fine, the shower was better, and the post-shower romp in the bed was best of all.
“Is it weird that I’m thinking about how this is the last birthday we’ll celebrate here?” Bitty said, snuggling up to Jack afterwards. “We’ve had some good ones.”
“This is already a good one,” Jack said. “At least from my point of view.”
“Hush. I have to get up to start getting things ready. Your parents land in two hours, so you don’t have that much time either, Mr. Zimmermann.”
Jack had groaned and stood up, ready for another shower, when his phone rang.
“Jack? This is Melissa. I have good news,” she said. “The owners accepted your offer, at least verbally. Well, of course they did. You offered what they were asking. But I’m going to work with Shelby to draw up a contract and we should be looking at closing before your season starts.”
“Wow,” Jack said. “That’s great.”
He looked around the bedroom with a sudden rush of nostalgia. The new bedroom in the new house would be good too, he told himself.
“What is it?” Bitty said, rubbing at his hair with a towel as he came out of the bathroom. “Everything okay?”
“They accepted our offer,” Jack said. “They’ll draw up the contract and we can close in a few weeks.”
“That is great,” Bitty said. “Even if the change is … a little disconcerting?”
“It’ll be fine,” Jack said. “We’ll do it together.”
That evening, after steaks and portobello mushrooms were grilled, and the guests stuffed themselves with salads and homemade bread and three kinds of pie, Jack stood and tapped his wine glass.
“Everyone, I have an announcement,” he said.
“But he already married Bitty,” Tater whispered to Shitty. “You think they have a baby coming?”
Shitty shrugged. “I dunno,” he said.
Jack could hear every word because Tater’s whisper … wasn’t.
“Not a baby,” he said. “But we are putting down roots. Bits and I are buying a house. Our offer was accepted today.”
His parents hugged him, and Bitty pulled out his phone to show off pictures.
“Look at that portrait of the dog, Lardo,” Bitty said. “Can we commission something else to go there?”
@jackzimmermannturns30
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catsnkooks · 3 years
Text
Mandalorian Elegy (ch. 2)
Commander Cody x Obi-Wan Kenobi
summary: Obi-Wan heads to the Mandalorian countryside to aid the Fett family farm to escape the oppressive atmosphere of the city. He expects a few months of hard, simple labor, but his plans complicate when he finds himself falling for the simple hardworking farmer instead.
rating: G
word count: 1.9k
warnings: cody takes his shirt off so fair warning lmao
a/n: i’m really excited for this next one!!! i love making obi yearn.........
here it is on ao3!!
previous chapter, next chapter
Only a few days in the Mandalorian countryside and Obi-Wan was already falling in love. It was so very peaceful compared to the bustling life in Coruscant. Every morning he woke to a hearty breakfast waiting for him with good conversation from all of his hosts, and then it was time to do the daily chores.
He'd taken to collecting the eggs every morning—a simple task he knew he couldn’t mess up. Even Boga was on her best behavior around the coop. But what amused Cody greatly was how much the chickens seemed to like him.
This morning, they all followed behind him in single file, while he forced himself to contain his laughter so he didn’t spill their eggs currently resting in his shirt.
“I don’t know why they like me so much!” he exclaimed to Cody, who stood at the edge of the porch, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter.
“It’s because you spoil them,” Cody said, following him into the kitchen so he could deposit the eggs into the fridge.
Obi-Wan scoffed. “I don’t treat them any differently than you do.”
Cody just eyed him as he took out an old piece of bread from the cabinet, following him back outside. He shook his head at him while Obi-Wan knelt down beside the chickens, holding up the piece of bread.
“You all have to share this, alright?” Obi-Wan said, pointing a finger at all of the chickens present. Then he set the piece of bread down and stepped back while they all attacked it. He shook his head and sighed, climbing into the truck with Cody and Boga. “How uncivilized.”
Today, Cody was going to show him Bly’s greenhouse and garden. It was closer to the town so he would get better business, but not too far away where it was a long commute. This time, he allowed Boga to stick her head out of the window and flap her tongue in the wind as they drove.
They pulled up to a gravel driveway with a greenhouse and large wood awning next to it that had “Farmer’s Market” written on a homemade sign. Behind the buildings, Obi-Wan could see a field filled with many different kinds of crops. Rex and Bly stood outside of the greenhouse and waved as they approached.
Obi-Wan hadn’t seen Bly as much as the other brothers. They were too often busy at opposite ends of the farm to truly have time to meet properly. His hair was cut shorter than Cody’s and Rex’s but if it wasn’t for the yellow tattoos on his cheeks, Obi-Wan wouldn’t have been able to tell them apart.
“Hello, it’s finally nice to meet another plant person,��� Bly said, shaking his hand and grinning.
Obi-Wan returned it with a smile of his own. He mentioned to Cody that he had studied plant science a little while in college, and Cody must have passed that onto his gardener brother. “Indeed. It does get dull talking animals all the time.” He saw Rex roll his eyes in his periphery.
“Come on in and I’ll give you a tour.”
Bly explained that while he did sell some flowers in the main greenhouse, he really specialized in produce sales, which explained the large garden behind them. The flowers he did have were beautiful classics; begonias, geraniums, marigolds, vinca, and petunias. There was a small section of just blue flowers along one wall and Rex made as if to touch them.
“Hey! Don’t touch those!” Bly yelled at him. “Those are Aayla’s!”
Obi-Wan turned to Cody. “Who’s Aayla?”
“That’s his girlfriend,” Rex said in singsong, grinning at Bly whose ears flushed darker.
“She’s not my girlfriend!”
Cody shared a look with Obi-Wan and he hid his grin behind his hand. “They’re very pretty.”
“Her favorite color is blue but that’s a really hard color to get in flowers,” Bly explained, shooing Rex away from them. “Lobelia is really the only flower that’s truly blue but I found some blue Columbine that I think she’ll like.”
Rex made a lovesick expression behind his brother’s back, making Cody snort, and Bly turned around to glare at them. Obi-Wan stifled a chuckle.
“Tell me more about your produce operation here.”
With one last glare at his brothers, Bly led Obi-Wan out of the greenhouse and down to the gardens.
It was really quite impressive, considering Bly did most of the work himself. He made a considerable amount of money selling produce during the harvest seasons, bringing the derelict garden and greenhouse that just sat on the side of the road into a successful business. Obi-Wan could hear the pride in his voice and he couldn’t help but smile when he boasted about his accomplishments.
They left Bly later in the morning, Rex hitching a ride in the back of the truck with Boga. He helped Cody make a light lunch and then they were to clean out the barn. Cody and Rex volunteered to shovel to save Obi-Wan from the smell, so he was relegated to spreading the shavings and hay once they were done. And to prevent Boga from eating the poop.
While he was waiting for them to finish clearing another stall, Obi-Wan found himself being watched as he stood at the edge of a large pen. A beautiful brown horse watched him from the opposite side of the pen, flicking her ears in the wind. Obi-Wan held out a hand, encouraging it to come closer.
“It’s alright, come here,” he murmured. He held out a handful of hay and it cautiously walked toward him. “There you go. Do you want a snack?”
It took a bite out of the hay and chewed it, keeping its eyes on him. He slowly reached out and touched the back of his hand to her cheek, running it down to her nose, letting it sniff his hand.
“You’re very pretty,” he told it. It was. A beautiful deep brown, a dark mane and tail, with a white spot in the center of its forehead. “What’s your name?”
Just then, Boga shifted beside Obi-Wan and reached between the bars of the fence to sniff at the horse, startling it, and making it run to the other side of the pen. Boga looked up at him, her ears drooping.
“I'm sorry, girl, the horse must not like dogs,” he told her. He grabbed another handful of hay and climbed over the fence, intent on making friends. He cautiously walked toward it, holding the hay out in front of him. “It’s alright; we didn’t mean to spook you.”
The horse pawed at the ground but didn’t make a move toward him. He heard someone yell at him behind him, spooking the horse even more and making it toss its head and prance around in a circle.
“Obi-Wan, get out of there!” He heard Cody yell from the edge of the pen.
Obi-Wan turned around to see him frantically waving him back. “Why?”
“That’s the wild horse!”
Oh. Obi-Wan turned back around for just a moment to see the horse paw at the ground once more and start running at him, before he was running in the opposite direction. He climbed over the fence just in time, falling into a breathless heap on the ground. The horse kicked and pranced at the edge of the fence before retreating farther away in the pen.
“What the hell were you thinking?”
Obi-Wan gave Cody an impish smile, stroking Boga who was excited by all the movement. “I just wanted to make friends.”
Cody groaned and put his face in his hands while Rex laughed.
---
The next day, Cody was determined to lead the wild horse around the pen. Obi-Wan sat on the top fence rung with Boga safely watching on the other side while Cody approached the horse, a treat in one hand with the lead hidden behind his back.
She took the offered treat, letting Cody stroke her nose and grab onto the halter. He let her sniff the lead, and then clipped it onto the halter, letting it hang for a moment to let her get used to the weight. Then he wrapped it around one hand and lightly tugged on it, testing her. She didn’t move, which was good, he’d told Obi-Wan. At least she wasn’t immediately running away.
Obi-Wan watched as Cody tugged more on the lead and began walking. She took a few steps, and then slowly began following him. Obi-Wan contained his amazed laughter, not wanting to spook her, as he watched them slowly make their way around the pen. Just before they got to the halfway mark, she stopped and didn’t want to move no matter how hard Cody tugged at the lead.
And then Obi-Wan watched with wide eyes as she suddenly whipped her head back, pulling Cody face-first into the mud. Obi-Wan barked out a laugh, holding his sides as he watched her pull a yelling Cody a few feet through the mud before he let go of the lead. Cody got up, dusting the worst of the mud off him, and glared at Obi-Wan. The horse hadn’t moved and he unclipped the lead off her, petting her nose.
“Successful?” Obi-Wan teased.
Cody glared at him again as he climbed over the fence. “Yes, for your information. Very successful.”
Obi-Wan eyed his muddy state as they leaned against the fence, watching the horse prance around the pen. “Well, I’ve been successful over here. I’ve thought of her name: Dandelion, for the white spot on her head.”
“I’d call her Pain-in-the-Ass at this point,” Cody huffed.
Obi-Wan barked out another laugh as they walked back toward the house. Jango met them on the porch and told Cody to go out back and wash off so he wouldn’t track mud through the house. Obi-Wan smirked as Cody grumbled off, following Jango into the house.
He was in the middle of preparing their lunch. Obi-Wan helped him, pulling the needed ingredients out of the fridge and cabinets, pulling them safely away from grabbing fourteen-year-old hands, which huffed and sulked at the table.
“Oh, Obi-Wan, could you go ask Cody if he wants mayo on his sandwich?” Jango asked. “He’s real picky about that sometimes.”
“Of course, no problem.” Obi-Wan stepped out of the kitchen and onto the back porch, telling Boga to stay. He turned to yell at Cody but couldn’t find his voice when he saw him.
Cody was shirtless, which was understandable, but that wasn’t the worst of it. Rivulets of water ran down the defined muscles of his chest and stomach as he dumped a bucket of water over his head. Obi-Wan watched with wide eyes as he set down the bucket and wiped water away from his face, slicking back his hair and sending droplets of water everywhere. His tawny brown skin practically glowed in the sunlight reflecting off the water. His eyelashes were dewy when he looked at Obi-Wan.
“What’s up?” he asked, as if he wasn’t currently making Obi-Wan’s heart beat wildly in his chest.
“Uh, your father wanted to—uh—know if you wanted mayonnaise on your sandwich,” Obi-Wan stuttered, praying he couldn’t see the raging blush he knew was taking over his cheeks.
Cody snorted and bent to grab his shirt, pulling it over his head. Oh, dear, Obi-Wan thought. The wet material of his shirt clung to his skin, outlining his broad chest and strong biceps.
“I’ve never wanted mayo anywhere near me,” Cody said, seeming indifferent to Obi-Wan’s internal plight as he came up to the porch. “He should know that by now.”
Obi-Wan managed a weak laugh and followed him into the kitchen.
That was a scene he was never going to forget.
20 notes · View notes
mrs-hatake · 3 years
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Dearly Departed
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Pairings: Kakashi x F!Reader, Onesided! Dabi x F!Reader
Warning: ooc characters, mentions of blood, dead body and major character death.
A/N: reposting this since tumbler wouldn’t let my posts appear. 
this is what happens when you watch the scene of Carla’s death on repeat and listen to Eren’s YAMEROOO!!
also, I intentionally wrote dabi with his white hair and kept his chosen name.
as always, big thanks for the lovely @runeterrankhaleesi​ for proof reading this fic!
The Sunday market was buzzing like a group of honeybees in their hive despite it being so early in the morning. The people were cheery and had a smile as they presented their products, selling or trading it with their clients.
Y/N was looking at a basket of black berries, trying to determine which one looked the juiciest to purchase for her infamous black berry cake, when she felt a heavy arm snake itself around her shoulders.
“Morning, doll.” Greeted Dabi with a sleazy smile, his body reeked of alcohol and sweat.
Rolling her eyes, Y/N shrugged the arm off her shoulder and pointed at the pile of berries for the farmer to bag up for her. “Two dozens please.” She politely requested.
After she had paid and placed the bag of berries into her basket, she made her way to her next destination. “Whatcha baking today?” asked Dabi as he hooked his finger around a lock of hair that managed to fall out of Y/N’s bun and twirl it around his finger.
“Black berry cake.” She replied, seeming unaware of the finger in her hair as she glanced at the pile of wild mushrooms.
“For me? Awwww, you shouldn’t have!”
“You wish.” snorted Y/N, “It’s for the bakery. You want it? Then you have to pay for it.” She had a cheeky smirk as she held out her open palm to Dabi.
“Oh, I’ll pay.” A wicked grin grew on his lips, “But not in money.” He wiggled his eyebrows and Y/N immediately punched his chest.
“Be glad Kakashi isn’t here, otherwise he would’ve offered you to the Titans.”
It was Dabi’s turn to snort, “Please, what can a teacher do other than lecture me to death?” He then rolled his azure eyes. “Besides, he won’t stand a chance against someone in the Garrison Regiment.”
Y/N just scoffed as she continued shopping for her bakery and what she needed for dinner later that night.
In the middle of their banter, someone from the Garrison Regiment with blonde hair and kohled eyes waved Dabi over for a quick game of poker. The blue eyed young man waved back, pinched Y/N’s cheek despite her being older than him and stole an apple from her before running off to play a couple of rounds with his buddies. No doubt getting shit faced again.
Y/N shook her head. Although Dabi had the honor to work with the Survey Corps thanks to his father’s high ranked position and insane amount of power that he held, Dabi turned down his father and signed himself up with an easy going, albeit lazy, department.
Though, Y/N didn’t blame Dabi. His father was a horrible man and was the reason for most of Dabi’s burns on his body. He resented his father due to his mistreatment towards his family, especially Dabi’s mom who ended up hanging herself after unbarring the guilt for pouring boiling water onto her youngest child.
Kakashi and Y/N had known Dabi most of their lives, what with Dabi being Kakashi’s former student about ten years ago, they knew that Dabi was attached to them even though he refused to admit it.
Though, in recent years, there was a strain in Dabi and Kakashi’s relationship due to the younger of the two developing a not-so-innocent crush on Y/N. He couldn’t help it. She was kind, strong and brave. She was one of the few people who stood up to his father, Enji had tried to drag Dabi back to Wall Sina after he found out that Dabi turned down the Survey Corps’ offer after all the strings he pulled through.
Having had enough, the trio had all moved to Wall Maria and settled down in Shiganshina district.
The trio’s bond grew stronger with each passing day and they almost resembled a dysfunctional family. However, that bond almost broke when Kakashi had finally managed to propose to Y/N and Dabi had stormed off, falling off the radar for days.
Kakashi and Y/N had searched for him in all of the places they thought they could find him. It took them almost an entire week to locate his exact location and the first thing Y/N had done when she spotted Dabi’s white tuft of hair sprawled on some woman’s breast inside a small bar that reeked of vomit and phlegm, was to give him a well-deserved slap.
The tears which had gathered in the corner of her eyes did not fall as she glared at him.
“How dare you.” She spat.
Before Dabi could have the chance to apologize, Y/N turned and stormed out of the bar. Not wanting to hear any of Dabi’s pathetic excuses.
Dabi’s blue eyes met Kakashi’s grey ones. “I’m sorry.” Was all that he could offer to the older man who Dabi once saw as a man he could respect and admire.
Kakashi just sighed and nodded with his head to follow after Y/N.
“Just know that she barely managed to get two hours of sleep each night and had to close the shop the past week to go look for you. You owe her.” said the silver haired man. Dabi just lowered his head in shame.
Hours later when Y/N had served dinner for everyone, Dabi stared at her with hopeful eyes as he wanted to take advantage of dinner time to apologize to the one person he loved more than himself, seeing as she had been avoiding him throughout the day.
Though the hope in his eyes diminished when she didn’t sit at her usual chair, instead going up the stairs.
Casting a questioning glance at his former teacher, Kakashi simply grunted. “Roof.”
Y/N was leaning against the edge of the rooftop, her head tilted upwards to gaze at the million stars littering the ink black night sky.
In the years that Dabi had known Y/N, he never knew that the older woman would be at the rooftop whenever she was upset. Guess there were a lot of things to learn about Y/N, and that Kakashi and Y/N were meant to be together.
His mind had told him, repeatedly, that he wasn’t right for Y/N. That he didn’t know much about her, other than the fact that she was his savior. He had just followed her around like some lost puppy and clung to her like a child would to his mother.
Now that he thought about it, the two never had any instances which allowed for their love to blossom. Y/N protected him. Y/N was kind to him. Y/N supported him but she didn’t love him. At least not the same way she loved Kakashi.
“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Dabi apologized with a quiet tone of voice as he hesitantly approached the older woman and stood a few feet away from where she was standing.
“I was wrongfully jealous-of Kakashi and of the love you both had for each other.” He then ran his burnt fingers through his white hair. “I guess I always thought that I would be the one to marry you. And I thought the feeling was mutual but I was wrong.” sighed Dabi.
Y/N, however, said nothing as she stared down at the village below.
“It was childish of me to run away, I admit that. But I was hurt and felt betrayed. I wasn’t aware of how you felt for each other. I did sneak my way into your little world, after all.”
“Y/N…Please, I’m so sorry.” Dabi pleaded and slid his hand to cover Y/N’s smaller one.
“I’m not mad.” She finally spoke. Her voice sounded rough, an aftermath of not speaking to anyone throughout the day, not even to Kakashi. She sounded tired and Dabi bit his charred lip, well aware that he was the cause for her distress.
“I’m just disappointed of how you reacted.” She faced him and Dabi’s breath caught in his throat at the expression on Y/N’s beautiful face. She looked frightened, troubled and on the verge of crying. Dabi wanted to punch himself.
“You took off without saying a word. I waited the whole night for you to return and when you didn’t, I went to look for you because I thought you were in trouble!” She choked through the tears.
Dabi wanted to inform her that there was no way any harm could come his way as he was very strong and could protect himself but the inner voice in his head advised him against that, and instead, opted to listen to Y/N’s teary rant. He was itching to hold her in his burnt arms. He longed to bury his nose into her hair to somehow sedate her and ease her anxieties. He wanted to do whatever he could to earn her forgiveness.
“Promise me.” She said through clenched teeth. “Promise me that you won’t ever do something stupid like that ever again! Promise that you won’t leave me.”
Staring deeply into her eyes, Dabi’s expression became serious as he whispered. “I promise.”
Dabi had expected that he was forgiven, that he would receive a hug from Y/N but all that he had received in return was a nod of her head and a soft, “Good night, Dabi.” Before she made her way inside.
He watched her go and he wasn’t surprised to see Kakashi standing by the doorway.
“I’m holding you to that promise.” The teacher stated with an air of finality after he followed after his fiance.
And ever since that incident, Dabi and Y/N were stronger than ever. Even Dabi’s respect for Kakashi was rebuilt from the ground up and his admiration for his former teacher had returned. Though, the cheeky bastard would still tease the silver haired man about stealing Y/N the second she grew bored of him. His jabs didn’t phase them. They knew that they loved each other too much to ever grow tired of the other person.
Even on their wedding day, the love they had in their eyes were exclusive for themselves and nobody else. Dabi was there, in the distance cheering them on and ignored the throbbing ache in his heart as they exchanged vows and kissed. Perhaps that was the reason why Dabi grew addicted to playing poker and drinking. Y/N, naturally, did not approve of such a lifestyle but as long as he returned home then it was all right.
“That’s all for today?” asked the fisherman when he spotted Y/N make her way towards the exit of the Sunday market as he washed his fish to place on display.
“ M’fraid so!” She giggled at the old man.
“Better let me know when you’re done with that cake! My wife’s been on my back nagging me to buy her one since last week!” He imitated the way his wife spoke and Y/N smothered her laugh behind the back of her hand, gently shaking her head at the old man. She wondered if that’s how she and Kakashi would be like when they were older.
“I’ll see you arou-”
KRAAAAAAKK!
A sudden crack of lightning appeared which illuminated the sky into a blinding yellow color that was then followed by a gust of wind that was unbearably warm.
Y/N had fallen into the ground at the sudden commotion, her groceries scattered around her.
And as instant as the lightning had appeared, a dark shadow hung above them and Y/N tore her eyes from the scab wounds on her hands that protected her fall to stare at the giant wall in front of her. And what she saw stole her breath away. Literally.
There, in the distance, stood a Titan. It’s expressionless face gazed down at them. Although its face was void of emotions, Y/N could’ve sworn that it was silently judging them. As if to determine which punishment was suitable for their crimes. What crimes had they committed? She didn’t know.
Within seconds, the Titan’s fist came down on the wall and life returned to the village as screams of anguish filled the open air.
Y/N stared with unseeing eyes at the madness before her.
Living in the inner walls, she never really feared the Titans, almost didn’t believe in their existence due to the tranquility of her village. But ever since she had moved to Shiganshina and had seen groups of priests preaching about their demise and humanity’s downfall, she would toy with the idea that they might be attacked by the monsters one day- just to humor herself. She never believed that that would actually come, especially so soon.
It was the crash of the boulder landing on the market behind her which smothered the screams of the shop owners and buyers, did Y/N snap out of her daze. Turning around, she was greeted with the horrendous sight of blood splattered all over the ground, limbs and intestines could be vividly seen.
Y/N’s eyes rapidly filled with tears as she covered her mouth to prevent the scream from erupting.
Just as she stood up on her wobbly feet, she heard someone screech that the Titans had breached the wall.
Horrified and having a difficult time believing what was happening, Y/N quickly steadied herself and ran towards her house. She had to go and save Kakashi. She had to let him know that the wall had been breached and the Titans had invaded. They needed to take all their required documents to return to their home village. They had to-
Coming to a slow stop, Y/N was stupefied at the sight before her.
What once used to be a row of two story houses was nothing but a pile of wood and stone.
“No.” She heard herself whisper.
And in a daze, as if being pulled by a magnet, she made her way towards her house; the third building on the right with a sandy colored brick wall.
But her house was no longer where it stood.
Brick, debris and fallen clothing that she had personally hung this morning before heading to the Sunday market all lay on the ground, covered in blood and dirt.
Cautious and frightened, she slowly made her way to the biggest pile and began to dig, praying that she won’t find the dead body of her husband, her beloved, Hatake Kakashi. He had to be alive. They had a long journey ahead of them. They dreamed of having children of their own, of opening a school for those unfortunate children of fallen soldiers from Survey Corps. It’s ludicrous to even imagine Kakashi dead, his lifeless eyes staring at her.
“Y/N.”
The scratchy call of her name urged her to dig faster and deeper and her heart dropped to her stomach when she spotted Kakashi’s grey hair covered in dirt. Hurriedly, she removed most of the stone and debris covering his upper body but she could do nothing about the wood that had fallen on his legs.
“Y/N.” Kakashi rasped again and she desperately tried not to break down and cry in horror.
“Go.” He coughed. “Save..yo-yourself.”
But his words fell on deaf ears as Y/N perilously tried to pull Kakashi out from the pile of wood.
In the distance, a large looking Titan was making its way towards their house but its presence was only acknowledged by Kakashi as Y/N was busy trying to get him out. And he felt his heart sore at her dedication and loyalty. At her unfaltering love. But there was no way that the two of them could survive the Titan that was getting closer by the second.
Kakashi had woken up that morning by playful kisses from his wife that turned into a quick session of love making before she had to bathe and head to the market to buy the ingredients she wanted for tomorrow’s bake sale while he stayed at home to grade his students homework.
He was in the middle of complimenting a rowdy and loud child who had convinced himself that he was not suitable for school and would be better off joining the military when Kakashi had heard the sudden crack in the sky. His house rumbled and his teacup crashed to the floor. Just as he was about to lean down to retrieve it, the walls around him crumbled.
When he came to, he was nauseated by the dead bodies and blood splatter that covered his neighborhood. Gone were the colorful flowers that him and his neighbors had spent years growing.
And when Kakashi spotted his wife with terror written on her face, he already knew of his fate. His legs felt too numb and his abdomen burned, his mind screamed at him that he was a lost cause but his heart had a small flicker of hope to survive. But that was pushed to the back of his mind the second he heard something snap in the distance and he weakly turned his head and spotted a Titan coming towards them. Its hideous flesh was an image that Kakashi could never forget.
“Y/N, STOP BEING SO STUPID AND RUN!” Snapped Kakashi in desperation.
“NO! HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT? I’M GOING TO SAVE YOU!” screamed Y/N as an endless waterfall of tears streamed down her dirt-caked cheeks.
Kakashi would’ve growled in frustration at Y/N’s stubbornness had he not been so weak. He loved his wife dearly, even when she was being hot headed as they were about to die.
“Y/N.” He choked. “Please.”
And, as if becoming aware of her surroundings, she stopped what she was doing and spotted the Titan that was just down the block. And Kakashi knew. Kakashi knew that Y/N was conscious of the situation at hand; she either had to save herself and leave Kakashi behind or they will both get eaten by the Titan. And knowing the love of his life, Kakashi knew that Y/N would choose the latter.
“Kakashi.” She called for him and his heart skipped a beat, “I love you.” she gave him a broken smile and he wanted to cry in anguish. If only…
“Have no fear, your hero is here!” And in came Dabi, zooming into the area with his ODM gear. And, for once in his life, Kakashi was grateful for his appearance.
“Dabi!” Y/N cried, as if an angel had descended from heaven to rescue them.
He ruffled her hair as he smugly approached the fallen house to help Kakashi from under the rubble.
“Go.” Kakashi whispered. “My legs have been crushed and I’ve bled too much. I’ll only hold you back.” And as if to prove his point, Kakashi coughed and a splatter of blood landed on Dabi’s boots.
“But,” Dabi, who was just as stubborn as his wife, frowned at him, almost glaring. “How could you leave her?”
“Remember….Th-The promise.” And Dabi understood what Kakashi meant.
Kakashi had to leave Y/N but Dabi couldn’t as he made a promise to the both of them and he never broke a promise.
“I’m sorry.” He whispered through held back tears. He was scared to lose someone he considered a father figure. Even when he snatched Y/N away from him, Dabi never truly hated Kakashi.
“Don’t be.” Kakashi coughed. “I’m the…one who’s sorry.”
“Please hurry!”
With the final exchange of a silent message through their eyes, Dabi promising to take care of Y/N and Kakashi telling him to remind Y/N how much he loves her, Dabi took off.
“Let’s go.”
“Wait, what are you doing?” Y/N yelled indignantly, “What about Kakashi?”
“Let’s go, Y/N. He’ll only slow us dow- ” He was met with a slap.
“Fuck. You.”
Y/N bypassed Dabi to rescue Kakashi herself when she froze in place.
The Titan had arrived and it was digging through their house. Its mouth began to water when it spotted Kakashi’s disabled body and eagerly picked it up.
Time moved slowly as Y/N silently watched as the Titan brought Kakashi towards its wide open mouth, ignoring as Dabi tugged at her arm for them to escape.
When Y/N didn’t budge, Dabi was left with no choice but to pick Y/N up and sling her over his shoulder and run.
Despite the distance, she could spot the wetness on Kakashi’s cheeks and the small and apologetic smile that slowly stretched across his lips. “I love you.” He mouthed.
And, in a blink of an eye, the Titan’s teeth chomped down Kakashi’s body.
He didn’t scream because he refused to give such pleasure to the creature.
Kakashi could see through his hazy eyes as Dabi continued to run with Y/N slung over his shoulder. He held out until Dabi was able to use his ODM gear to carry them out of harm’s way and into safety.
“Take me with-” And the Titan’s teeth closed down on his neck, ending his words and his life.
41 notes · View notes
heliosthegriffin · 3 years
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Farmer Jaune #1
AN: here’s a little background for you people, places, or things, I love Stardew Valley... That’s all.
Summary: Jaune takes a bet with his father that if he can get the old family farm up in running he’ll have shown enough dedication to be a huntsman.
Forteen year old Jaune stood in front of ‘The Club’ at lunch time carrying large crate of assorted fruits on his left shoulder for this Junior guy to try, while in his right he played on his scroll while the two bouncers out front refused to let him in.
Sure, he could barge in, but that’d be rude and create a bad impression on a potential buyer. So the stuck up suits could glare at him all they wanted, he’d wait till Junior saw him or picked up his scroll, or they finally let him in.
Huh, who knew Spruce Willis liked to garden, another reason to look to the guy as a man among men.
The two suits kept a steady glare on the boy with bangs covering the his right eye, only leaving a single blue orb to stare at his scroll. He was all lean muscle, tanned skin, and sun-bleached hair package up in a dirt stained tee and blue jeans.
They’re were sure that they could take him, and there were no notices about a fruit shipments, so they were ready to put down a scam-artist if they had too. Though, if he was a scam-artist he really was easy going.
“So, ‘Mr. Arc’,” One of the suits said as sarcastically as possible.
“Just Jaune.” Jaune said boredom, hoping Junior wasn’t messing with him, if he was he’d have to sic dad on him.
The guards snicker. “Ok Just Jaune,” Jaune rolls his single visible eye. “What do you got in the crate?” “Are you mugging me? Because if you are that’s just lame, it’s a crate full of fruit, how poor are you if need to mug a man for fruit? Delicious, juicy fruit sure, but just fruit.” Jaune say rapid-fire without looking up from him scroll.
The suit who spoke up went flush with anger at the insinuation, he worked for the damn mob! He made very good illegal money! He didn’t even recorded it to the irs that’s how bad he was!
Suit two just snickered at his friend. “I think what my buddy meant was what do have in the box to sell to the boss, and why do you think he’d buy from you over importing from Mistral or bulk buying from the Agri-Dis?”
Jaune rolled his eye again. “For the fourth time he asked me to bring him a crate, which I would have delivered to him by now, and gotten some lunch to if you two lumper didn’t get in the way.”
“And for the fourth time your not on the list, so try sell us on your product and we might let you in!” The first suit said exsperated. “Also why not just eat some produce?”
Jaune shrugged. “Same reason, I’m going to refuse to sell any to you two right now, cause I have things called standards. I always include a little extra on the orders so that people know their appreciated! If I took that away, it’d ruin the magic!”
Jaune then said with a smile, “That said if you’re interested, I can give my website to place an order, and little peak of the goods too.” Jaune said wiggling an eyebrow.
The second suit let out a tired sigh, knowing that this would be long day already. “Ok, back to my second question first, why would anyone buy from you some dirty looking kid from outside the city walls, instead of the nice clean stalls at the Agri-Dis? Also, I make good money wouldn’t I just import good food from Mistral or Vacuo?”
“Ok, find you’ve worn me down fine. Ok first, the Agric-Dis’s food is abysmal grown for two thing!” Jaune said putting away his scroll, and then holding up two finger making them glow with the light of his soul, making both guards jump at the realization this boy was also a hunter in training. “Bulk production, and fast regrowth speed, they inject Earth dust into the soil to make it more fertile, and genetically mod the plants so they grow as fast as possible and big as possible with account for taste! Which to be fair isn’t a bad thing, the city is overpopulated as is, and the Agri-Dis needs to feed everyone, and neither dust usage or gene mods are intrinsically bad, just that bulk produce doesn’t always taste as good as growing something with love and care!”
The two suits inched back in shock at Jaunes passionate rant, and the first suit recovered faster and asked. “Alright, you’ve made a good point. But what about outsourcing production to Mistral or Oasis in Vacuo? They’re food is really good!”
Jaune held a finger as he regained his breath.
“Ok, that’s a fair point, Vacuo has a warmer climate than Vale so it’s easier to grow more crop in season there in certain areas, and Mistral has the same benefit, but, it’s not the food that bad but the prices, and time you have to wait in between shipments.”
The suits leaned in with interest.
“This also has a couple problems, compared to my products.” Jaune holding up his free hand, letting it glow freely to attract the suits attention. “First, is the price you’d paying is roughly three time as much as my own for virtually the same product.” Jaune said slowly and methodically, letting it sink into the mens minds, he’d never let a potential customer get away, even if they were goons.
“Second is bidding, when you order from out of kingdom your have to compete with everyone else who wants that food, which also is reason the price is higher they can afford to hike it because it’s in demand, so since it’s in demand that means people want it, which implies scarcity, so even if you place an order there no garuntee that they’ll have any left for you.“ “I never thought of that way when I saw the restock sign...” “Most people don’t, in fact most people don’t care about the quality of the food long as it’s good and edible. So like I said limited supply, right? Well, right now I have tons of food to sell, I won’t be running out either,” Jaune said with a smirk, “but for how long? Anyway, another problem if your foods coming from outside the kingdom means that it’s coming outside the kingdom, this is two probelm. One, you’re weakening the local market, while strengthening foreign market, and you don’t want freaking Vacuo to be stronger than Vale in anyway right?” Jaune asked slyly.
“No..”
“The other problems with outsourcing from out of kingdom, is the shorter shelf lift, shipping takes time, you know this, you’re smart guys right?”Jaune asked the men, who quickly nodded. “Well, you should know that caravans only come so often, there could be month in-between you ordering your product and actually getting it! So your food could be moldy and black!”
The suits looked at each other, remembering the bosses fits of rage about a ruined order of fruit, and their own bad experiences with outsourcing. Conveinently forgeting this only happened once or twice, out of the hundreds of times they’ve ordered.
Jaune continued, “The final problem is it’s outside the kingdom anything can happen! Bandits, grimm, White Fang, Then Bam!” Jaune punctuating by slamming his hand against the crate. “You just lost three hundred lien by ordering from freaking Vacuo, what the hell you’d expect from ordering from those them, it’s all gone now! And it’s all your fault from ordering from Vacuo!” Jaune said quickly, and almost out of breath.
The men scowled at the idea of letting Vacuo pull a fast one on proud Valemen like themselves.
“Now, on the other hand my produce is loved and cared for only a mere half hour away in hunter protected settlement of Stardew Valley. Barring in-climate weather, or Grimm, I will have your product, if it’s ready for shipping out, to you within a week or you get the shipping free! Bam!” Jaune slammed his hand on the box again. “You just cut your grocery bill by a two-thirds!”
Silence then filled the gap again.
“So, did I answer you gentlemen’s questions?” Jaune asked with a slightly sore throat.
“I think I’ll be taking a look at your scrollsite later today,” The second suit said, then smiles thinly. “I just hope you’re not exaggerating, but regardless you got me rethinking my spending habits!”
The men and boy let out a little chuckle.
“Alright how about I let you two see what it’s in the crate to see proof of product.” Jaune said easing the crate on two the ground, easily being twice as wide as his waist, and coming up to his torso.
The men gave a shrug.
Jaune undid the latch on the crate and opened it up, assulting the men with sweet, starchy, and delcious smells of produce, their mouths involuntarily starting to water at the sight of fresh cherries, ripe melons, golden-yellow corn, full and juicy blackberries, tart and sweet blueberries, the spicy red hot peppers, ripe to bursting tomatos, and the most robust coffee they’ve ever smelt.
Jaune then slammed the lid closed a minute later, and put the crate onto his shoulder.
“Arc! What are you doing here? I told you to meet me at noon, and I’d meet you at the Club, not for you to wait for me outside the Club for an hour.”
“Dad say “If you’re early you’re on time, if you’re on time you’re late, if you’re late, everybody’s dead and you’ve lost your huntsman license.”
“Whatever, just follow me in, and we’ll hash out the deal today.” Junior looked at his men. “I’m not mad, you did well.”
“I’m not mad either, just bored.” Jaune said slipping in.
.....
“So, you wanna go half in, on a order?” “Why not? All that talking got me hungry.”
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