Episode Tag for 5x06...
Buck makes it all of an hour in his apartment—thirty minutes after Taylor has left for work—before the itch under his skin and the tightness in his chest gets to be too much and he grabs his keys. He drives on autopilot.
Cute kid, yours?
I’m guessing he lives with you at 4995 South Bedford Street.
I’ll shoot him. And then I’ll go shoot his kid.
The sound of the gunshot is burned into his brain, echoing in his ears. He can still feel the ice that flooded his veins, freezing his heart in his chest, the air in his lungs, as he sprinted outside to see Eddie on the ground—
Doing compressions. Compressions. On his knees and with a wild look in his eyes, an edge to his voice that Buck can’t remember ever hearing before, but alive. Alive, alive, alive.
The blood on his face, his neck, wasn’t his.
And Buck had wanted—
There’s a scream that’s caught behind his teeth even now. He could keep driving, take himself out into the desert and let it out, just rage at the heavens. Demand to know why, why this keeps happening, how many times he’s going to be stuck on the outside as Eddie is placed in mortal danger. He can feel himself cracking, fraying at the seams—he doesn’t think he can take much more.
He can’t. He won’t survive it.
At the hospital, he thought he might have shattered if he touched Eddie. Or that Eddie would have. Not that Eddie’s fragile, because he’s not—he was the one who kept it together all day, competent and steady and sure while Buck felt like he was seconds away from shaking apart at all times—but he couldn’t risk it. Couldn’t risk touching him. It felt like—
Cute kid, yours?
If the gunshot froze him solid, the threats to Christopher made him burn white hot with rage. Made something vicious and protective rise up in him, hissing and spitting, wanting to dive across the ambulance to rip the man’s throat out with his bare hands. But—
No one will ever fight for my son as hard as you.
Cute kid, yours?
They haven’t talked about it. Not since Eddie first told him. Another conversation in another hospital, never to come up again. Like it wasn’t the biggest bombshell of Buck’s life. Like Eddie hadn’t basically made him a father. Like he wasn’t—
But then again, Eddie hadn’t done that. Right? It wasn’t a certainty. It was just an if, an in case of emergency.
That didn’t make Buck a father. That didn’t make him Christopher’s father.
But fuck, he can’t seem to get that through his head.
He parks on the street and walks up to the door. There’s a key on his keychain, but it feels heavy in his hand. Too heavy, and his fingers too clumsy. He can’t fit it in the lock. He can’t turn the knob.
Buck rests his forehead against the door and closes his eyes. The barrel of a gun flashes black behind his eyelids. There’s still a scream trapped in his throat.
Going home to see my kid.
Did he get to see his kid?
It was stupid, coming over. He shouldn’t need to—he doesn’t have a right—he’s not—
It was stupid. He should go home. Go back to his apartment.
He should go.
The door opens and Buck stumbles forward, catching himself on the frame.
“Buck?” Eddie looks exhausted, not unlike he had when he left the hospital. Christopher’s backpack is in his hand and Buck swears internally.
“I’m sorry,” Buck says. “You’re taking Chris to school right now—of course you are, it’s a weekday, I should have asked—”
“Buck,” Eddie interrupts gently. “It’s okay. You don’t have to ask. That’s why I gave you a key.”
“I know, I—but I don’t have to stay, I just—I just wanted—I needed to—” The words catch in his throat, but it’s okay that he can’t seem to make himself admit why he showed up on Eddie’s doorstep, because from over Eddie’s shoulder he hears—
Cute kid, yours?
Buck’s feet are moving before he can stop himself. Eddie steps aside and shuts the door behind him. And then Buck’s dropping to his knees and pulling Christopher into his arms and burying his nose in his hair and—
The tension in his chest eases.
“Hey, buddy,” he whispers.
Eddie’s hand settles on Buck’s shoulder for the briefest moment and squeezes.
“You and dad are both being really weird today,” Chris says, his voice muffled by Buck’s shirt.
Buck manages a faint laugh and sits back on his heels, brings his hands up to cup the boy’s cheek.
“Yeah, well—adults are weird sometimes.”
“Hey, Christopher, what would you say to skipping school today and hanging out with us?” Eddie asks from over his shoulder. Buck looks up sharply.
“Oh, no, Eddie, you don’t have to—”
“Yeah, okay,” Christopher replies. “Can we go out to lunch later?”
“Why don’t we ask Buck what he thinks?”
And then Buck has two sets of eyes on him and his heart squeezes in his chest.
“Sure,” he replies. “That sounds great.”
And he breathes.
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Yes I know, Christine. Would you make me some of that plomeek soup?
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I'm sleepy so here's some star trek sleepy things
Jim and Bones often share a bed (not in a romantic/sexual way, platonically)
Uhura puts her hair in a protective style, covers it and has silk pillowcases
Jim never had pjs as a kid and Bones bought him some, he still has them and wears them on his darkest nights
Spock has been known to work like 4/5 shifts in a row and then hibernate like a bear
He also sleeps curled up like a cat
Chekov shares a room with someone because he's an ensign but his roommate is a snorer so he sleeps on Sulu's sofa a lot
Sulu can sleep anywhere
Against a wall, in the greenhouse, in a shuttle, on Spock's shoulder
Scotty is kind of an insomniac
He struggled to adjust to the Enterprise's schedule, where a lot of the chiefs of department seem to work on alpha shift
He goes to sleep at like 3/4am and gas ti wake up at 6/7am
He's got to the stage where he doesn't feel it anymore but he is getting help for it
Bones has carried all of the crew to bed at some point
Christine has a very complicated night time skin routine, so complicated that she sometimes isn't tired when she's done
That's it, I hope if you read this, you get a good night's sleep
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The Weight of Reality
Post 2x08. Sorry guys, there isn’t really a way to fluff this one out. It’s gotta be angsty. Beth finds out about Rick being put in jail, and immidiately calls him. Needless to say, he’s not doing well. Written while listening to Giants by Imagine Dragons on loop bc that’s such a Rick-centric song.
Warings: One single F bomb. And a lot of sad teenagers. That is all.
Tags: @hournites @bethchapelsbonnet
If you’d like to be added to my weekly Hournite fic taglist feel free to ask :)
Beth is sitting at her desk doing research when she gets the call. It’s ten at night, and fireworks still light the sky outside her house. She’s always hated the fourth of July. Too much noise and partying. Beth was a fan of neither of those things. This fourth of July felt different though. It felt too quiet, what with all the Eclipso business. She was almost thankful for the bright colourful bursts of light outside her window, reassuring she was still in the real world. She was still here. Eclipso couldn’t get to her as long as she had the goggles on.
Her first instinct after the whole Eclipso business had been to phone Rick. He hadn’t responded, which was nothing out of the ordinary. She chalked it up to the bad service at his farm, as that was his usual excuse. When Beth called Courtney and she didn’t respond was when Beth began to worry. Courtney spent all her free time on her phone. She always answered. She was decidedly not answering. Then Beth tried Pat, who she only really called during emergencies, to the same result. She left them all messages of varying concern, telling them about how she really needed to talk, and she had more information on Eclipso. Perhaps the Whitmore-Dugan family were out having a fourth of July celebration. That made sense. That was the option Beth went with.
So that’s how Beth got here. Googling her life away, looking at shady PDF documents on possible origins of Eclipso, and on the original JSA. She didn’t have much but it was something to keep her brain occupied. She’s skimming an article about The Flash and everything that’s known about him when her phone rings.
She almost takes her goggles off before picking it up instinctively, but she corrects herself and leaves them on as she answers the phone. There's a moment of silence on the other side of the line before Pat speaks.
“Pat! Thank goodness, I’ve been trying to get ahold of you-”
“Beth, I need to tell you something.”
There’s a serious tone to his voice. It reminds Beth of the time the hospital called to tell her family that her grandfather was deathly ill. It’s a tone of voice laced with pity, and she hates it. After everything she’s dealt with tonight pity is the last thing she feels like dealing with.
She keeps her thoughts to herself, instead focusing on figuring out what Pat has to say. There’s more silence on the other end of the line. She can hear what sounds like Courtney crying in the background. She hears Pat take a steadying breath.
“Pat? What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”
Beth’s entire body drops. She feels it. She feels herself crumple. The feeling of dread she thought she’d destroyed when she fought off Eclipso returns instantly, making her feel sick. Rick.
Something’s happened to Rick.
“He’s okay, Beth. But he’s in Jail.”
“Eclipso got to him. Made him think Matt was Grundy. Rick attacked him, and almost killed him. The police took Rick in. Court and I are at the station now, we’re trying to get it figured out.”
“No.” She can barely hear herself speak.
“Beth I’m so sorry”
“What about the hourglass? Can’t he use that to break out of jail or something?” Beth is scrambling for an answer, a way to help Rick.
“You know he wouldn’t do that Beth, even if he could.”
“If he could?”
“He smashed the Hourglass.”
Beth doesn’t know when she started crying, hot tears flowing down her face. She finally got somewhere with her parents and now this. Now this.
“Beth? Are you okay?”
“Sorry. I’m sorry Pat I just… I need a minute to process.”
“It’s okay Beth. I can call you back later if you want. Then we can talk about what you wanted to tell us?”
Beth wants to say no, that she has to tell them about Eclipso and her immunity to him with the goggles right now but she can’t. She physically cannot. Every time she opens her mouth it feels like fire is creeping up from her lungs. She can barely breathe.
Is all she can force out.
She’s shaking as Pat hangs up, staring at her cracked phone screen. The photo of her and the rest of her friends smiling split by the nasty lightning-bolt shatters on the glass screen. Broken. She looks at Rick in the photo, his arm slung around her leisurely as he laughs at a joke Mike said before taking the picture. She wants nothing more than to be back with him at that moment. Things seemed so much easier then.
“I’m sorry Rick. I’m so sorry. I should’ve been there for you.” She murmurs, pressing her forehead to the top of her phone screen.
The phone, of course, provides no response.
She stares at the screen a while longer before she gets an idea, frantically searching up the number of the police station. She’s not sure it’ll work. She’s not well versed in the etiquette of phoning the police station to talk to a newly-arrested teen but it won’t hurt to try, right?
She hesitates for a moment, her finger hovering over the phone number. She takes a deep breath before she presses it, and then hits the call button.
“Blue Valley Police Department, how can I help you?” A deep male voice answers the phone.
“Hi! Sorry, I don’t know if this is the right number to call, or what I’m supposed to be doing here really.” She’s speaking quickly, words blending together in her panic. She takes another deep breath and then continues.
“You have someone I know in detainment? A Rick Tyler? Or maybe he’s under Rick Harris, but that’s not really his name.” She cringes at that statement, but the officer, whoever they are, should call Rick by his real name. He deserves at least that.
“Right. So why exactly are you calling?”
“Oh! Sorry, I’d like to talk to him if that’s possible? I know he’s just gotten there but I’m.. Well I’m his closest friend. I just really need to talk to him.”
“Listen kid, we already have people here trying to figure out what to do with him-”
“Pat and Courtney. They know me, they’d want me to talk to him too. Please. I really need to talk to him. Even if it’s only for a little while. Please.”
A deep sigh on the other end of the line.
“You’re lucky I have a soft spot for young romance. He’s in a detention cell right now. I’ll see what I can do.”
Beth’s mind catches on to the words young romance. She wants to correct the officer and tell her there is no romance, but she doesn’t. Because that would be a lie. There was something. A spark. One that may never turn into anything if Rick gets sent off to a juvenile detention centre somewhere halfway across the country.
“Thank you so much.” Beth breathes, realizing she hadn’t said anything in response.
The officer only grunts, and then she hears the sound of the phone being placed on the table, and footsteps walking away.
It seems like hours before she hears more footsteps, hurried, almost panicked. She hears a vague
“You have to be quick. I really shouldn’t be doing this.”
No response, only a swoosh of air as the phone is lifted up and then
“Beth?” Rick’s voice is shaking.
Beth has never heard him so genuinely scared. He sounds terrified, and so deeply sad. He sounds broken.
“Rick. Rick, I’m here, what happened?”
“Beth.” He repeats her name, and then she hears him sob.
It’s a guttural noise as he gasps for air, and Beth wishes she could reach through the line to hug him. She wants to be there with him more than anything.
“Rick, it'll be okay.”
“It won’t. I’ve fucked it all up Beth. We can’t fix this one.” He sounds so defeated.
“We can try. I’m not going to stop trying. This isn’t your fault. We’re going to get you out of this.”
“This is my fault. This is entirely my fault. It was bound to happen one day, and now it did. Even Matt knew it, I was destined for the cells. That’s my future.” He’s not even listening to what she’s saying, just rambling to himself at this point.
“You deserve better than me Beth. You, and the whole team. I’ve been nothing but a dead weight. You’ll be better off without me.”
“RICK.” Beth half-shouts into her phone, tears still burning molten streams down her cheeks.
She hears Rick inhale sharply on the other end of the line. He’s surprised. Good, at least that’ll get him out of his own mind.
“I’m not leaving you and that’s final. Nobody is. You may not think it, but we care about you. A lot. We’re going to get you out of this.”
Another sob on Rick’s end, and she can hear his heavy breathing as he tries, and fails, to regain his composure.
“I’m sorry. Beth, oh my god I'm so sorry.” She wishes Rick didn’t sound so terrified.
She wishes there was some way she could reverse time and be there to help him. To make everything better.
“It’s not your fault. It’s not. Eclipso made you do it. Please, please don’t blame yourself. Please don’t.” She’s pleading, trying to keep her voice from shaking.
“I… Beth I…” He’s at a loss for words.
She hears the deep voice of the Officer in the background. Shuffling.
“I’ve gotta go Beth.” His voice is strained.
“Ok. I’ll see you as soon as I can.” Beth offers, hoping it’ll provide him some reassurance.
A deep breath on his end, and then more shuffling and voices.
“Beth I.. I lo… I…” He’s really trying to say something, his words choked as he struggles to spit them out.
Before he can finish his sentence there’s more footsteps and the phone clatters down. A few more seconds of shouts and shuffling before the line cuts out, and Beth is left alone again.
She’s almost certain she knows what he was going to say in that last sentence but she can’t bring herself to think too much about it. It’ll be something to talk about once they get Rick out. They have to get him out. With a sigh Beth returns to staring at her shattered phone screen, still crying. She stares at Rick’s smiling face, and tries to smile back at him. She just wants to be with him. She just wants it all to be okay. She’ll just have to keep telling herself it’ll all be okay. Then, maybe one day it will be.
It has to be.
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Hournite prompt: Rick catches Beth staring at him fix his car and is too oblivious to realize it’s because she finds him attractive
Requests are open!
Yolanda loved her friends. Truly, but as of the past couple of months she found herself growing increasingly more uncomfortable when she was left alone with Beth and Rick.
They were the most oblivious people she had ever met and at first, she found it amusing but sitting in Pat’s garage waiting for her star-spangled best friend and her stepdad, she only had Beth and Rick to watch as amusement. Technically, they were working on their own things. Beth was working on the finer points of getting an owl sanctuary in Blue Valley while Rick was fixing his mustang.
Or, if they would just be honest with each other, Rick was working on his mustang and Beth was gawking at the way his arms flexed when he would twist something under the hood. When he pushed his hair out of his face with a greasy hand, Yolanda's nose wrinkled but Beth looked so captivated by it she thought she should get her friend a bucket for the drool that would inevitably come if she kept gazing at her crush.
Yolanda sighed quietly as she leaned back against one of Pat’s vintage cars. This has been going on for far too long. Rick would watch transfixed as Beth would talk about the most mundane things. (She loved her friend but how anyone could listen to her ant farm for more than five minutes she had no idea). Beth would never really notice, she was only glad that someone was listening to her strange hobby. In return, whenever Rick wasn’t looking Yolanda had started noticing Beth’s eyes start to wander in his direction and stay on him. Rick was usually so caught up in what he was doing that he never noticed the staring.
Yolanda rolled her eyes as Beth began to bite the tip of her pencil when Rick lifted his shirt to wipe grease for his forehead. They would just be together already if one of them caught on, she was sure of it.
Maybe, just maybe, she could help with that.
She was pretty sure a nuclear bomb could land right outside of the Pit Stop and Beth still would take her eyes off of Rick so Yolanda decided that the best way to do it was the get Rick’s attention. Pushing herself off of the baby blue Cadillac she made her way over to a table that had a bunch of different tools on it. She picked one randomly and picked the place she was going to aim it. She couldn’t be around Rick when the loud metal hit the ground because he would look at her and not at the lovestruck girl.
So, she swung her arm back and forth to get used to the weight of the tool before tossing it. She bit her lip to contain the smile when it landed heavily next to Rick’s foot. She had better aim than she originally thought.
She watched closely as Rick looked down at the tool with confusion and then up to see where it had come from. His eyes immediately landed on Beth who upon being caught watching him let out a small but high-pitched squeak that Yolanda was sure would have all the dogs in the neighborhood running their way, and turned back to the papers that she was supposed to be working on.
Yolanda glanced at Rick to gauge his reaction. His hazel eyes latched onto Beth immediately. He clearly wasn’t drawn in by the sound of the metal hitting the concrete but by the sound of an alarmed Beth. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly as she looked down at her papers without moving. Yolanda and she assumed Rick, could tell that Beth wasn’t doing any work.
At the confused look on his face and the way that Beth was steadily ignoring him Yolanda decided to pipe up, “Beth, what do you think of the progress Rick’s made on his car? I noticed you watching earlier, I had no idea you were so interested in cars.”
She knew her voice was too sweet and innocent as she said it but she could tell that neither cared. She saw the moment it clicked with Rick that Beth had been watching him. They both knew that Beth didn’t really care about cars or know anything about them, and that was with the help of Chuck, too.
Rick smirked as Beth stammered out an answer that they all knew was a lie. “It- ah, it looks good? Definitely better than before.”
“I was working on the engine,” Rick tried to hide a smile but Yolanda could tell that he was pleased with the attention that Beth had given him even if he wasn’t aware of it at the time. “You can’t see it from the outside but it should run smoother.”
“Oh,” Beth mumbled, her eyes darting between the car and Rick.
“I could give you a ride around town after we’re done here,” Rick said, and Yolanda was surprised at how effortless it came out. She didn’t have to push him to say that at all! “I mean if you want to of course.”
Beth nodded enthusiastically, “that’d be great!”
Before Yolanda could give herself a Pat on the back Courtney and Pat walked in with Mike and Jakeem following behind them. Neither Courtney nor Pat noticed the strange air in the room but before Pat pulled out the whiteboard to give them the rundown of what he knew about someone named Mister Bones, Mike looked over at Yolanda with a raised eyebrow to which she only responded with a smirk and a shrug of the shoulder.
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WHAT TF the actor who plays Christine Chapel also played Lwaxana Troi?????? And Number One from the pilot!!
IM GOING TO LOSE MY MIND how am i so facial blind
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There was a chapel in Heaven. Wrought in stone and wicker wood, and it was a chapel of Loh.
Or, since those time had long passed and the names had changed, it was Anne’s chapel. Smooth as nighttime, and presently the doors hung open. His pupils reflected the black of the insides, and his heart raced.
Distantly, he realized her plan. But when he did, it was already too late.
He whipped to her, alarm growing into fear. “Anne?” he asked in a small voice.
With solemn eyes, she merely tilted her head, and his heart dropped.
With a howl from its throat, the chapel sang for Anne. The red carped flicked out like a tongue, and winds curled around Malchior, like a wing enveloping him.
Then, he was dragged within, and the doors clanged shut. Inside, along the lengthy corridor, something flickered alive. Stained glass on the floor to the sides of the carpet, and now they flamed with a dim, ghostly light.
Once, they’d been intimate, as angels had bowed their heads, speaking in hushed voices, knowing themselves to be protected. Now, they were as foreboding as a prison.
Outside, Anne slowly closed her eyes. Turned away, against the chapel turned black in the light pooled in Heaven. While the windows flamed with iridescent colors, like a furnace turned on.
She’d never said she’d let him make the first move, after all. And when she’d thought about descending, only to find the Promised Lands reaped of everything, something had turned in her chest.
Something like frustration, and times come to a standstill. She remembered the wolves, and wanted to laugh hoarsely.
No need to suffer, had she said?
It hadn’t been her intention then, but even those words had turned into a lie.
And, ruthless in her movements, she turned on the chapel. Snapped her wings upwards, the dance to its song thrumming from glass stained with her light. She tapped her foot to the ground, drawing its attention.
When her wings descended, the chapel sunk. Clouds and nebulae yawned open, then brought their fangs together, and the ground closed once more.
Smooth fields of plume colors, and the chapel was no more.
It was her chapel; as such, it would answer to her. Even if it was to swallow one it used to hold so dear.
*Loh isn't Anne's name. It's a title she was given out of pity by the angels, and became more widespread on earth than her original one. It means Lord of Heaven and to her, humans prayed for the angels and their well-being. It was a position she absolutely loved, to hear the concern in their voices as they told her whenever an angel was faltering.
*No, the wolves bit isn't supposed to make sense for now lol. It's one of those times when you keep things bottled up and then they surface all at once
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✨ 500 followers! 😳 🥳
I genuinely cannot believe how fast this blog grew! Honestly it makes my head spin a bit. But I just want to thank you all for being very kind and very cool! Especially those of you who have taken time out of your days to chat with me or send asks, whether it's indulging my need to speculate on what sports Rand would be into or just saying hi. I appreciate them all. So thank you lovely people :)
As a celebration here's a few pages of Uhura POV for you all. It's probably not going to end up in the main fic due to some pacing issues but I might publish it separately as part of a Uhura-focused fic, because I love writing our best girl so much.
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So I haven't written anything in a long time. But that Hournite parallel episode last night was just everything. Beth and Rick have always been two personalities I see a lot of myself in.
It's a little bit angsty I'm sorry for that- truely I do love happy endings.
If our night was an hour
Hey Mr. Shadowland
An empty plan
But time traveler can't you see
You can talk to me
Your hours almost up but I see the dust at your feet
The knight is cold. Stars are falling and the cat's asleep
My eyes are sore from the strain of trying to see the whole world
Like a puzzle piece lost in the box, never to be complete
Broken answers and I'm tired.
Take my hand and drag me home
To robots and laughter and a place to call my own
I don't want to be alone
Where nightmares lurk
And monsters are lonely
The shadows are polite
And the nite is so hurt
My hurried pace is endless as a snowstorms song
Enemies are grinning. Time to play
Let our red thread be calls that never go through
And quiet nights at a table like unsuspecting fools
Kids being kids who would have thought
Little heroes in capes too big to keep them warm
Never heard of saving the world before your first kiss
The good wanes like water
You can talk to me.
Please talk to me
Our mirrored hearts drip with the sand of a thousand promises and a million regrets.
But I chose me
And dear shadowed boy- with your cracked edges and gentle eyes
I will always choose you.
Because I don't think you've ever chosen the sun.
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I find the lack of hournite fics on AO3 disturbing
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Idk what this is but I was in my 5x9 spec feelings so…
Buck doesn’t mean to say anything. He doesn’t plan to. He fully intends to throw this latest incident on the pile of things that he and Eddie don’t talk about and let it go.
(The two of them trapped in a raging inferno with a transplant patient, Eddie’s head bleeding from a fall, his hand on Buck’s face—)
Well. Letting it go is a little optimistic. He hasn’t let any of it go, not a single bit of that pile. Every new disaster, every emergency, every scrap of trauma, every revelation—the pile is a crushing weight on his chest, stealing his breath, making his ribs ache, and he’s been choking back words for months, not knowing how to start the conversation without shattering everything like a bull in a china shop.
He’s been choking on all of it.
But he hasn’t yet figured out the right balance of demanding and delicate. So. He doesn’t plan to say anything.
Except that from a distance he catches a glimpse of Eddie alone in the back of the ambulance staring at his hands. Shaking hands. And there’s a look on his face that Buck has seen before. Once. Just once.
A look that Eddie had told him was just about Ana.
There’s too much space. Too much distance to cross. Too many people to skirt around. By the time Buck reaches the ambulance, Eddie’s gone.
He appears again when it’s time to go, slipping into the truck like a ghost, pale and shaky, arms crossed defensively over his chest. It’s not the time or the place—not with Hen and Bobby and Ravi right there—so Buck bites his tongue, but his heart twists painfully in his chest.
Eddie pulls the same disappearing act once they get to the station, gone before Buck is out of the showers, and that more than almost anything else makes Buck follow.
When he gets to Eddie’s door, he pauses briefly. There’s a key on his keychain. He doesn’t have to knock, he doesn’t need permission—he’s allowed to use it.
This is Eddie’s house, I’m not really a guest.
And Buck is so tired of not using it. Of waiting. Of avoiding. Of shoving everything down and not following his gut.
It’s been months.
He’s half-afraid Eddie has changed the locks.
The key turns easily. The door swings open.
Buck finds Eddie in the kitchen, his back to the door. Eddie’s shoulders are slumped and he’s gripping the counter like it’s the only stable thing that can keep him standing.
Buck’s voice is quiet, but Eddie flinches like he’s been shot.
He doesn’t turn around, but one hand lifts up to rub at his eyes.
“What are you doing here, Buck?” He asks, and it’s heavy. Resigned. The echo of what Buck feels lingering in his own heart.
They’ve been doing this dance for too long. It’s time to stop.
“What happened earlier? When you were in the ambulance?”
Eddie’s shoulders tense.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do,” Buck replies. “I saw you—you looked—Eddie, you have to tell me if something is wrong.”
The last time he said that it worked. This time—
“Why?” Eddie turns around, crossing his arms again. His eyes are shadowed, his face haggard, and Buck—
“Why?” He echoes. There’s a scream in his throat, alongside months of words that have gone unsaid, and the tether keeping him together is so frayed that he can practically feel it snapping.
Eddie shrugs and fixes his gaze on an errant spot on the floor.
“It’s not really your—”
“You made it my business when you made me Christopher’s guardian if anything happens to you,” Buck snaps. “When you sat on that for a year without saying a word. You made it my business when you decided for me that if I lost you I would have to pull it together and be fine about that in order to be a parent! You made it my business when you started making decisions about my life without consulting me—you don’t get to do that and then push me away.”
“I—” Eddie lifts his head slowly, confusion the clearest emotion Buck can make out among all the ones flickering across his face. “Are you…mad at me?”
“Yes!” It’s late enough that Christopher should be asleep, so Buck doesn’t want to shout, doesn’t want to raise his voice too much, but there is a storm inside of him and he is shaking apart from the force of it, from everything spilling out of the door he’s just kicked open.
“Yes,” he repeats, and his voice cracks. “Yes, I am mad at you. Because you got shot, Eddie. You got shot. And I was right there. I watched. And if you hadn’t been okay, I would have apparently gotten a call from some random lawyer telling me to figure out how to be a father without you. You changed your will, you got shot in front of me, and you’ve been pushing me away ever since, so yes, I am mad at you.”
“You’re not fine!” Eddie opens his mouth, but Buck cuts him off before he can say anything. “Tell me you didn’t have a panic attack earlier.”
Eddie goes still.
“You can’t, can you? Because you did.”
“Panic?” Buck laughs, tight and bitter, raking a hand through his hair.
“What do you want from me, Buck?” Eddie snaps finally, his eyes blazing.
“I want you to talk to me!” Buck snaps back. “I want you to stop pretending like nothing ever touches you! I want you to let yourself not be fine, because I’m not fine!”
He isn’t even aware that he’s crossing the room until he’s standing right in front of Eddie, close enough to touch, and the words linger, sparking in the air between them.
Suddenly, all of his righteous anger and energy drains out of him and he sags as he reaches out and grabs Eddie’s shoulders.
“I’m not fine,” he repeats quietly. “You got shot and it was the worst moment of my life. And we’ve never talked about it. But I’m not fine. And I know you’re not, so please, Eddie, please…just let me help you. Just let me in. Please.”
One of his hands slides up, fingers curving around the back of Eddie’s neck as he adds—
“You don’t have to be the strong one right now.”
Eddie’s gaze is unreadable for a long moment, but then the stoic mask cracks, thin lines spidering up at first but then widening, shattering into a million irreparable pieces, and Eddie falls forward into Buck, both of them sinking to their knees as Buck takes his weight.
Eddie breaks. And Buck holds him, there on the kitchen floor. And they’re not fine, neither one of them.
But for the first time in a long time, Buck thinks they might have a chance.
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Hournite first date moodboards
Hournite Week Day Five // First Date/First Kiss.
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Alfred: [walks into a church with fifth-century mosaics and actual gold on the walls]
Alfred, internally: Damn, this place is really pretty. It’s almost as gorgeous as my boyfriend.
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Figuring it Out
I’m extremely worried about next weeks episode, but I’ve got this weeks after-episode Hournite fic to distract everyone from that worry just a little bit. Takes place just before the end of 2x07. Rick and Beth have just recieved the news of Yolanda leaving the team and they have to process it.
Warnings: None! Just some sad little teenage superheroes.
Tagging @hournites and @blackfemmecharacterdependency (If you’d like to join the tag list feel free to ask! I post a new fic every Tuesday)
They’re sitting in Beth’s living room. Her parents are out again, and Beth is curled in the arm chair, not saying a word. Rick sits on the sofa, awkwardly twiddling his thumbs like he does whenever he isn’t quite sure what to say. Courtney had just called with the news that Yolanda had quit the team. Neither Beth nor Rick have said anything since Courtney broke the news. Instead they just sit in awkward silence, Ghostbusters playing on the Tv completely unnoticed. Rick had recommended another movie night to keep Beth’s mind off of things. He was not expecting everything to go this far off the rails.
Finally, Beth gets up, clicking off the Tv before turning to Rick.
“You should go.” She has tears in her eyes and she can’t quite make eye contact.
“What? Why? We were just getting to the good part, with the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man!” He’s trying to keep the tone light, it’s entirely the wrong thing to say but he doesn’t know what else to say.
“Don’t do that. Don’t act like there’s nothing wrong, Rick. Yolanda is off the team. She quit. She quit and it’s my fault.” Beth hasn’t moved from where she stands but her head has dropped.
“No Rick. You can’t talk me out of this one. You know I’m right.”
He does. Well, not entirely. There were a lot of contributing factors to Yolanda leaving, Beth being unable to comfort her was just one small gear in a much larger machine. Right?
“You spoke what you felt. You stuck to your morals. You wouldn’t kill Brainwave, even if you said you would’ve I think we all know you wouldn’t have. That’s okay.” Rick keeps his tone soft.
“It’s not okay. It’s completely, entirely, not okay. Yolanda quit the team because I couldn’t tell a stupid lie. I shouldn’t have said anything. I shouldn’t…” At this point Beth starts to cry fully, and she slowly sinks to the floor, sobs wracking her entire form.
Rick gets up now and makes his way over to where Beth is kneeling on the floor. Slowly, carefully, almost as if he’s trying not to spook an injured animal, he crouches in front of her and then wraps her in a hug. He doesn’t say anything, really he doesn’t know what he could say to fix this. He doesn’t think there’s anything that could fix this. So he just holds her, and she sobs into his shirt. It takes everything he has not to cry along with her.
After a few minutes, Beth leans back. Rick looks down, eyes running over her tear stained face as he tries to formulate words, but he keeps falling short.
“I’m sorry.” Is all he can utter, and by Beth’s immediate recoil he knows it was the wrong thing to say.
“What do you mean?”
“You have no reason to be sorry Rick, this isn’t your fault.”
“No, but I put pressure on you back there. When Yolanda first admitted to killing Brainwave. I asked your opinion-”
“If you didn’t ask, someone else would’ve Rick. Honestly I’m glad it was you that asked. If Courtney or Yolanda had, I think things would’ve gone even worse.”
“I mean, if I gave the answer I did, and they asked... I don’t know. I just. I don’t know.”
Beth isn’t even sure what she’s saying at this point, so overwhelmed by guilt and uncertainty and-
Rick is hugging her again.
He’s pulled her close, and just keeps holding her. She can tell by his heavy breathing that he’s really trying not to cry. Beth feels like that’s her fault too, which makes her feel even worse. She should feel embarrassed, or excited that he’s holding her so close, or really anything else than the soul-crushing guilt that she’s feeling right now. But that’s all that she has. She is completely consumed by it, and she doesn’t know what to do.
“I’m proud of you.” Rick’s head is resting atop Beth’s and she feels his chest rumble as he speaks.
“I’m proud of you, Beth.”
She pulls away from him again, and looks up at him through tear-blurred eyes.
“I feel like you should be feeling the exact opposite of that right now.”
“No, I don’t think any of us made the situation better. I don’t think there was anything we could’ve said that would’ve made that situation better, really.”
“No. You told Yolanda the truth. You told her exactly how you felt, and didn’t sugar coat it. I tried to make it seem like I would’ve done the same thing, tried to spare her the guilt, and I think that hurt her more. She knew I wouldn’t have killed Brainwave. But I tried to convince her I would’ve to try and make her feel better. I think it just made her feel worse.” He runs one hand through his hair, keeping his other hand on Beth’s back.
“I don’t think what I said made her feel any better.” Beth manages a sarcastic laugh, and Rick half smiles, shaking his head.
There’s a pause in the conversation and Beth takes that as an opportunity to let her mind wander. She sits, thinking of all the different ways that conversation with Yolanda could’ve gone. All the things she could’ve said. She tries to make the outcome good. She tries to imagine lying to Yolanda, backing up Rick that yeah, anyone would’ve killed Brainwave in that situation. Yet she can still see the guilt and betrayal in Yolanda’s eyes, the knowledge that Beth wouldn’t really do that. And Rick is right, seeing that look, even if it’s imagined, somehow hurts more. With a shaky sigh Beth leans forward, placing her forehead against Rick’s chest, resigning to her fate.
“I hate this.” She says quietly, trying to hold back more tears.
Rick has both his arms around Beth again, and he’s staring off into the distance at who-knows-what.
“Yeah, I know. I hate this too.”
“What do we do?”
“We just keep going. When Yolanda feels comfortable, she’ll come back to us. Until then, I guess we'll wait.”
“I hate waiting.”
“You’re doing a lot of hating tonight Beth, that isn’t like you.” It’s half a joke, half a genuine concern on Rick’s behalf.
“I feel like it’s warranted. There’s a lot to be upset about.”
Rick just gives a small chuckle and nods slowly, though Beth can’t see him, her head still leaning against his chest.
“So, uh, do you want to finish Ghostbusters?” Rick offers awkwardly after a while of silence.
“I’ll be fine, Beth. We can keep watching the movie.”
Beth slowly pulls back and shakes her head.
“It’s getting late. I don’t want you to drive home in the dark and get hurt. I don’t think I could deal with that.” It’s the honest truth. She’s at her wits end.
“No, no it’s alright. I should probably go to bed early anyway, I don’t think I’ll be getting much sleep after all of this.” Beth gets up, letting Rick's hands slide from her back as she moves to clean up a half-empty bowl of popcorn from the table.
Rick accepts that Beth wants to be alone, and so he helps her clean up, moving cups and bowls into the kitchen alongside her in silence.
Finally, when everything is put away, Rick grabs his jacket and heads for the door. Beth follows him, her footsteps wobbly and unsure.
“Right, I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay.” Rick is scanning Beth’s face again.
He knows he does that too often but he can’t help himself. He always wants to know what she’s thinking inside that beautiful brain of hers. He wants to be able to see all her worries and whisk them away in an instant. Unfortunately he’s not that talented.
“Alright.” Beth crosses her arms and rubs them idly as she steadies her breathing.
“If something is wrong, or you can’t sleep, or your parents start fighting again, or anything, you can call me. I’ll be home, so I’ll answer right away. I promise.”
“Okay. Thanks, Rick.”
Rick simply smiles in response.
“You’re sure you’ll be alright?” He has to ask one more time, just in case.
“Yeah. I’ll be fine, I just need to sleep. We can figure out what to do next in the morning.”
Rick nods slowly. He wants to say something more, something that would fix all of this but he can’t, so he just keeps nodding.
“See you tomorrow, Beth.”
“Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow.” She can’t bring herself to make eye contact, and that is enough to almost rip Rick’s heart in two.
He manages to keep his composure, though. It’s only when he’s down Beth’s driveway in the safety of his car that he lets himself break. Lets himself lean against the steering wheel and cry. He doesn’t cry very often, but this is all too much at once. Rick feels like he’s being torn apart. Between Yolanda leaving the team, trying to figure out what to do with Grundy, trying to help Beth with her parents divorce, as well as trying to comprehend his feelings for Beth, it’s just all too much. It’s too much and it’s eating him alive. He manages to calm himself enough to drive, and slowly he backs his way out of the driveway. As he goes, he sees the silhouette of Beth in her bedroom window. He half wonders if she’s watching him go. He hopes she is.
Beth watches Rick’s car drive away, her eyes tracking it’s bright yellow paint until it goes around a bend and she can’t see it anymore. She presses her forehead to the window, and it feels so cold and uninviting. She finds herself wishing it was Rick’s chest again. It wasn’t much, but he had made her feel at least a little better. She half wishes she had asked him to stay. She would’ve felt a lot safer if he were still around. She ignores that thought as well as the strange sense of dread that threatens to overwhelm her. Instead she gets ready and tucks herself into bed. In Beth’s mind, she replays all the scenarios of her confrontation with Yolanda until she finally sinks into a fitful sleep.
In the morning she’ll call Rick and they’ll figure things out. They always do.
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Free and Young and We Can Feel None of It - Hournite fic
Read on Ao3
Rick couldn’t remember when he started noticing Beth. Originally he thought it was when Beth had come running down the dirt road to deliver some much needed clarity. He hadn’t known it at the time but looking back he was much more aware of Beth than he had previously realized.
Being members of the JSA and slowly becoming friends only made him take notice some more. If she had any idea of how much of his time he spent listening to her or just watching her she showed no sign of it. He’s not sure if she’d find it strange or not. Most people probably would but Beth wasn’t like most people. She was the only person he knew that could take an insult with a smile and walk away without escalating things further. She was all smiles and bouncing on her toes most of the time while still managing to remain calm and collected.
The more he watched her smile or hide her shaking hands when she was afraid or laugh when her eyes clearly said she was sad the more he realized that he knew Beth better than he knew himself. He knew her tells and what got to her.
He wasn’t the best at showing his emotions or comforting people but when the dust had cleared and Eclipso was gone leaving behind the body of the original Dr. Midnite in his destruction, he saw the trembling of Beth’s lower lips as she bit into to stop herself from crying. He waited until they were all back at the Whitmore-Dugan’s to find Beth. He found her sitting alone on the porch with her arms wrapped around herself. Her dark brown eyes were fixated on a bunny running across the lawn but he had a feeling she wasn’t seeing it.
He cleared his throat as he came to sit beside her. She blinked and turned her owlish gaze on him and he saw tears brimming in her eyes. He wasn’t the best at comforting people. He had never really tried much before now but he would try for Beth. He would do anything for her.
“It’s okay to cry,” he finally whispered into the night air. He skipped the pleasantries and small talk. This was Beth, there was no need for that between them.
She watched him for a second and he wondered what she was seeing or looking for. Was it the monster that he saw in the mirror or the little boy that he so often felt like when it felt like the world was falling apart around him?
When the first tear slid down her cheek Rick was there, quick to wipe it away with his thumb. He watched as her eyes closed at the touch of his hand. For the first time, she looked fragile, like a glass doll that could shatter into pieces at any moment.
“This is insane,” she finally said. Her words were husky and filled with the unshed tears. She sniffled and shook her head angrily. “I didn’t even really know him. I met him earlier today, I don’t know why I’m crying.”
More tears began to fall faster and her shoulders began to shake. It took Rick all of two seconds to decide what to do next. He wasn’t the most affectionate person but he wrapped one of his arms around Beth’s shoulders and pulled her into his side. When her breathing got faster and more uneven he wrapped the other arm around her so she was wrapped up in his arms, her head on his chest. He couldn’t see her face anymore but he could feel the warm tears begin to soak through his shirt.
“It doesn’t matter that you only met him today. As soon as you put those goggles on for the first time you felt a connection to him.” Rick said quietly. His chest aches at the sobbing. He’d hold Beth against him all night and whisper words of comfort if it meant that her tears would slow and she’d find some semblance of peace. “He was an important part of your life. You looked up to him and emotions have a habit of not following the rules of time.”
Beth sniffled against his chest and then nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I think you’re right.”
“You also looked up to him and saw him die in front of you. It’s only natural to feel this way,” Rick said. He hoped he was making sense but he was never one for words. He understood grief, though, and he hoped that was translating well enough.
Beth was quiet for a moment but Rick heard her breathing start to return to normal. He didn’t dare remove his arms from around her. He was afraid that if he pulled away he’d see the fragile doll again and he couldn’t see Beth look like she was about to break.
“I just don’t know what to do right now,” Beth mumbled against his chest, “it feels wrong to claim to be Dr. Midnite when I watched while the other died, unable to do anything to stop it.”
“You don’t have to figure it all out right now. You can just sit here and cry and if you want to do that tomorrow you can do that too. Eventually, though, you’ll know what to do because you always do.”
They were both quiet for some time. Rick rubbed his hand up and down her back soothingly as her tears began to slow. It wasn't until a minute later that Beth spoke into the silence.
"I think, for right now at least, I'd like to stay like this."
Instead of replying Rick only squeezed his arms tighter around her. Not to try and squeeze away her pain, he knew there was no way to do that, but to let her know that he was there and that he wasn't going anywhere.
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ANJ IS IN HER REPUTATION ERA
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Nothing is impossible, the word itself says "I'm possible".
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I'm laying on the floor looking up at the ceiling and I'm thinking about the Sistine Chapel but not the cultural, historical significance of it all but imagining Michelangelo's arms getting tired and the paint dripping on his face and how many steps it must have taken to climb a ladder that high and did he ever climb down and look back up and realize the perspective was just a liiiiitle bit off in that one scene and have to climb back up and do it all over again and I can't imagine what that must have been like, how hard that must have been, and everyone looks at it and says it's beautiful but do they understand? Do they really understand?
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Little more Uhura POV for you all because I love her and all of you <3
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