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moontideocean · 4 years

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Solitary Orbit(oc writing) WIP

Orion woke to Lieutenant Dakota tossing papers onto his bunk. “Commander Orion. we leave to earth today. You still haven’t read their reports! You need to make a decision in the next couple of hours.” The young female astronaut spoke. Her shoulder length black hair free to fall on her fair skinned shoulders. “Fine fine I’ll read them now,” Orion dismissed. His light skin and deep brown skin combatting his bright blue eyes. He rubbed his face and looked at the papers. The files of a selection of potential astronauts. Well. Emergency astronauts. “Wait, wait Lieutenant. Send in Altair and Hopper.” He ordered as Dakota peeked her head in. then receded back out with a nod and a salute at which Orion rolled his eyes at.

Option 1.

Astoria Vasquez

Female. 23. 5’5”. 120lbs

Failed astronaut, retired soldier.

Notes: great assessments. Needed to think more rationally and focus. Her tactical reactions may be of use.

Orion sighed. His younger sister had been something the administration had kept an eye on. She was a fine astronaut. Just not good enough against the best.

Option 2

Minerva Brooks

Female. 24 5’7” 130lbs

Circus master. Acrobat.

Notes: quick thinker. Not logically focused and not an amazing fit for technology but her reflexes and agility are a good weapon.

Minerva. Orion hadn’t met her but her reports seemed fitting. This group wasn’t the best but it’s what they needed for the new world. ‘New world’

Option 3

Ford Price

Male. 25 6’0” 160lbs

Bartender.

Notes: team member. Works well with others. Very tech smart but gets distracted easily. His job isn’t ideal but his basic thought process is of good use.

Ford. Ford. Where had Orion heard that name before? He hadn’t been to a bar in years. The last time he could remember was his celebration of coming back from the moon. His second assignment out of many to come.

Option 4

Chimera.

Female. 20 5’6” 123 lbs

Engineer

Notes: seemingly the last person to be an engineer. Chimera comes off as eager and a bit too much to handle but she knows plenty more than she lets on. Her need for secrets is questionable.

Option 5

Arthur Davis

Male. 23. 6’4” 170 lbs

Retired Soldier

Notes: quiet. Intelligent but most of his knowledge is focused in combat. Has an unknown relationship with Astoria. Still under investigation. Aside from the mysteries he’s a quick thinker and learns fast. Catching him up on our protocol would be quite easy.

Option 6

James Beckett

Male. 22. 6’2” 154lbs

FBI special agent

Note: highly recommended to be accepted. Similar to Arthur, quick thinker and fast learner. Although he’s much more open and talkative. Don’t let the scars and prosthetic leg fool you. He’s very outgoing and won’t confess where the scars are from.

Definitely one of the more acceptable options. Orion read the many others. So many applications and these were just the ones that had already been combed through. The workers below him had to sort through hundreds and below them, thousands and it goes on. People are scared. Excited. Hopeful. They don’t want to be left on earth. But Orion can only take 5. 5 people to make astronauts in 2 weeks. And not even on the ground. He’d have to train them on the station. “Commander. You requested us?” A young man with tan skin spoke. His hair clean cut and pushed back. Parted down the middle but a piece of stray hair disobeyed and poked out, hanging infront of his forehead in a blonde streak. The other standing next to him, taller, slimmer and a bit smugger. Deep dark hair that looked ruby red in bright sun but seemed to be pitch black in any other light. His skin pale aside from streaks of ink stained skin. His eyes a deep brown. The two looked at Orion as he got out of his bunk. “Yes my bad. I must’ve forgotten. Hopper, any update on the stability of earth?” Orion asked. “Yessir. We still have about 37 years. More than enough time to land, restock, pick up our new members and do our job on the new world.” Hopper said confidently. “Good good thank you. Altair what about you? Any updates on our new arrivals?” Orion asked. “Yes. All 17 options are awaiting command.” The slimmer man explained and Orion nodded. “Perfect. Well that’s about it, I’ll go and get Dakota or something. I need to tell her my choices” Orion added and waited for the two young men to be gone before he huffed relieved. The young commander waded out to find Dakota. He pushed his hair out of his face, searching through the white, clean halls. The empty sounds of nothing. He stopped in front of the large wall of 10 inch thick glass. The vast open void of space behind the windows. Orion watched the earth slowly rotating. It’s colors so vibrant, so lively. The subject made him feel small and insignificant. But why should he? He’s the commander. Commander Orion, been to the moon, leader of the new world mission. He was quite the opposite of insignificant. Him and his team were supposed to test the environment of the new world and if they succeeded on thriving there, they would name the planet.

“Commander?” A voice sounded, interrupting his thoughts. He turned to face Dakota. “Oh yes I was just heading to yout. My apologies,” he explained. “You requested me?” She spoke, dismissing Orion’s excuse. “Right right. The subjects. I think I’ve solidified my options.” He answered and she immediately pulled up a holographic glass tablet. “Go on”

He nodded and went over the choices he had read. “Subjects, 1,2,3,4,6 & 7” he answered. “Your sister? Won’t that be an issue? She doesn’t seem to be too fond of you” Dakota protested. “Nah it’ll be fine. She always wanted to be an astronaut,” he explained. Dakota huffed but she couldn’t disagree with his orders. “Alright we’re going to depart soon, 2 hours till we disconnect and project home” Dakota tapped the glass screen and it responded with a beep and shrunk into a small panel that she slipped into her pocket. “You don’t have to be so uptight yaknow. It’s just us four,” Orion laughed. She smiled slightly but didn’t respond. Dakota exited from the open room with the large glass windows and disappeared, leaving Orion alone with his thoughts. He gave a single glance back into the shimmering black space before heading back into his quarters to pack his things.

They’d be back soon. About 3 days on earth and then back to launch here. ‘Home.’ They used that term so often when talking about earth. To Orion it never felt like home. It never felt like where he belonged. Of course he assumed it was cliche to think that. ‘I don’t belong on earth. I need to be in space.’ It always sounded like some teenagers excuse of an emotional phase. But he couldn’t help but feel it was true. He never fit in with people. He never understood why anyone would want to stay on earth. As beautiful as it was, there was so much more out there for him. So much more excitement and discoveries to be made.

He pulled the small amount of things into a bag before heading back through the large hall and into a smaller, but still large room with space suits set on the walls. Their Names in plaques above the helmets of each suit. Orion was the first to be packed, as usual. He tossed his bag toward the doors that connected to the large pod-like rocket. This smaller ship that waited, connected to the station, was more for quick departures and returns to earth. Orion looked away from the strong structure lock that connected the open door of the pod to the suits air lock room. He pulled his heavy suit off the hooks it was hanging on and pulled himself into the clunky protective wear. He adjusted and shifted in the suit until he was comfortable. Then he tossed his helmet into his seat in the pod along with his bag. He’d have to get in last since he was closest to the door. Altair and Hopper were seated in the back seats, Dakota was a pilot along with her commander so she was seated next to Orion.

“Damn I thought I was going to be first,” Altair laughed and pulled his suit off the hooks, replicating the process Orion used. Orion smiled politely. The commander was close with his team. Small but he treated them like family. Dakota was the one he still couldn’t figure out. She was so cold but so kind at the same time. She respected Orion immensely, almost like a fear. Orion couldn’t fire her, so what was she so stressed to be proper for? Altair and Hopper were casual unless it was a serious topic they were sqwuaking about.

“Hopper and Dakota shouldn’t be far behind. I practically raced Hopper to get here. That reminds me, you and Hopper owe me 20 bucks!” Altair added as he put his bag in the back seat and climbed in. “Woah what? $20? when?” Orion said with a curious laugh. “Remember when we all made a bet on that asteroid?” Altair answered. “Ohhhh the one that almost hit the moon,” Orion said and snapped his fingers as he remembered. He had bet $20 it would hit but then again they had a few beers and it was late when they made that agreement. “well I’ll give you the 20 when we get back,” Orion nodded but Altair rolled his eyes. “Hey you’re in my spot idiot!” Hopper shouted at Altair but his friend just stuck his tongue out and mocked him. Hopper huffed and did as his other team members, putting on the suit and tossing his things into the backseat.

“Commander.” The young lieutenant greeted and followed Hoppers process. But her suit was different, Seemingly made of a difference material. Orion always asked about it but she never gave him an answer. She didn’t have a bag or anything with her other than her helmet. She maneuvered in and clicked on her helmet, Orion following in and copying her. The door closed and let out a hiss as the air was sealed on itself. “Check, check, 1. 2.” Orion sounded through his microphone in his helmet. He turned to look at his members and ensure they were nodding in acknowledgment. “Medusa pod secure, proceeding into departure checklist.” Orion recited. He moved on to read a short checklist and awaited his teams agreement. The commander pressed a button on the dash. It lit the whole board up and the radio sounded with mechanical and odd sounds until it fixed itself. “Medusa. we read you, ready for departure,” the radio spoke and Dakota nodded. She pressed an assortment of buttons and the pod pulled away from the structure, leaving toward earth. Orion selected a few corresponding buttons and flipped a switch. He looked back through the thick glass windows and watched thrusters light and push them forward to earth. “Commander we’ll be arriving at around 6:27pm on Earth. Near the Gulf of Mexico,” Hopper sounded from the back seat. Orion nodded and relaxed as they proceeded on route.

The crew relaxed and Altair even shut his eyes to rest. The ride was quiet but they kept conversation. “Hey Dakota,” Orion started and she looked to him blankly. “Yes sir?” She replied and he smiled. “You know you don’t have to call me commander or sir, right?” Orion asked with a soft laugh. “Oh uhm yes I suppose so. I just assumed since you’re our leader you require the utmost respect and formal conversation,” she explained, confused why he seemed to pressed to find an answer. He shook his head, “Hopper what’s your nickname for me again?” Hopper looked up from his strange book and smiled at the question. “Commander loser. Not my best but you don’t give me much to work with,” Hopper answered and shut his book. “See, I honestly don’t ‘require formal conversation or the utmost respect,” the young commander grinned. Dakota seemed troubled but she huffed and went back to the dash and typed through the bright buttons. “Re-entry sequence should be put into action soon. Now preferably,” she said abruptly and looked to her commander to follow in piloting the ship. The leader nodded but was a bit disappointed he didn’t get a chance to break through her shell more.

The crew was silent, only the sounds of the minor alarms and beeping of the dash could be heard. Orion focused along with his co-pilot and took the ship into the water. The commander sat back in his seat and sighed relieved. Re-entry was stressful, tedious and annoying. Being back on Earth was an odd feeling. While Altair and Hopper cheered and bumped their pilots seats, Orion sat dazed and a bit reluctant to meat the team he had selected. “Another success Sir commander Orion” Altair teased and Hopper snickered in agreement. “And Dakota of course,” Orion corrected. The hatch was opened and a copter was over their floating ship. “Medusa Team, welcome home.” The man standing over the opening greeted, practically shouting over the large aircrafts powerful blades. Orion was pulled out first, taken into the copter and followed was his team. Orion and his team were bombarded with questions. Orion felt the open air from the incoming gusts as they traveled through the sky. Bringing them to Land on a helicopter pad near a large building. Behind fences a crowd cheered and reporters roared with questions as they were escorted into the grey walled structure. The crew relaxed as soon as they were behind the doors. “Definitely didn’t miss the reporters,” Orion broke the silence with a humble joke. “I agree, although having my feet on the ground is something special,” Dakota spoke as they were led into a smaller room. The halls had portraits of historical moments of space travel. Astronauts Orion wished he could’ve met. Places he wished he could’ve seen. Leaders, trophies, plaques. Everything. “Commander, Medusa crew. Welcome home. We have your new members ready in the hall,” a man spoke, formal and in a suit. It had been a while since he’d seen anyone other than his crew. Was it just him or was it weird? An off feeling.

Orion pushed through the doors and saw a small ordered line of the options he chose. Most of them were in casual clothes. Like they’d just been brought to the administration building. 2 men and 3 women. His sister being one of them. His little sister, oh how he missed her. He stood infront of her and pulled her into a hug.

Astoria. More commonly known as Ace. His younger sister was surprised. Her hair pulled up into a low messed bun. Cargo pants and a mute

green colored shirt tucked into them. The young girl looked confused and a bit frustrated but she wrapped her arms around her older brother. He was much taller than her, which was another embarrassing thing for her. Your older, more successful brother, standing infront of you. The only person who could allow you passage to live your dreams. To go to space. Just like she’d always wanted.

“Commander Orion now? I thought you were just an astronaut?” She spoke into his shoulder. “And you’re a retired soldier? Mom and dad must not be happy about that” he teased back. Astoria smiled but it didn’t seem all too real. She back in her place, lined with the others. The rest of the unfamiliar team stared at Orion. Curious if Astoria had really earned this position. “You must be James. I’m commander Orion,” The commander spoke, standing infront of a young man, around the same age as himself. He knew it was James based on the lack of a left leg. A black metal prosthetic from the knee down.

James had Black hair parted down the middle and a small scar on his right cheek. One blue and one green eye, a slim but fit frame and exactly the same height as Orion. “Yes sir,” the young man nodded and shook the commander’s hand with a welcoming smile. Orion reflected the grin and moved to a short woman. Much younger. Light brown hair, faintly tinted a rosey color. It had to be dyed right? Such an odd hair color. “Commander Orion, you’re Chimera?” He asked. She was the youngest, and quite the smallest of the bunch. “Uh huh” she replied and shook his hand. Her wavy long hair was messy and in low pig tails with straying hairs. Her outfit was a whole other topic of unprofessionalism. Orion smiled, a bit nervous how this one would turn out, but if the administration sought her to be fit for the position then she was. He ignored his thought and moved to another young man. A little taller than the commander, which was embarrassing. The young man had light brown hair, caramel almost. And fair skin, a smug look resting on his face. Well dressed as well. A half unbuttoned dress shirt, tucked into jeans and a brown belt holding them up.

“Ford,” Orion smiled and held out his hand. “Commander sir, you sure as hell seemed more uptight in the report than in real life,” Ford answered in a southern accent. “Oh you’re southern. Where are you from?” Orion asked. “Texas,” he replied with a prideful grin. Orion noddee and shook his hand before he turned and stepped in front of the last member. He looked from Ford to the girl infront of him. He blinked, shocked at her dressing. A very skin revealing top and bottom. But a suit split tailed jacket over it all. “I-“ he caught a stutter and achieved control over his voice. “Commander Orion. You must be Minerva. The Circus master,” he managed out and shook her hand. She nodded. “They pulled me right out, I didn’t get a chance to change. My apologies,” she excused. Her long, curled dark hair pulled back out of her face. She was tall, not even close to Orion’s height but much taller than Astoria or Chimera.

This would be a problem.

A distraction was not good.

“Don’t apologize. If anyone should be saying sorry it should be me. We left a bit earlier than expected and they must’ve rushed to get you all.” He excused and stepped back to be infront of all of them. “As I said to each of you, I’m Commander Orion. This is Dakota, Altair and Hopper. The Medusa crew. Once we get back to station we’ll show you around.

The plan is to get you adjusted on station, be in space and get you all acclimated. Then after a few days, maybe weeks we’ll depart to the new world and carry out our mission.” Orion explained. The group had a lot on their minds. All thinking different things.

“Orion, if you don’t need them for the time being I’ll take them to get their suits,” the older gentleman instructed. Orion nodded and looked to his own team then back to the ones in front of him. The small group of non-astronauts looked excited to see their suits, and surprised the administration knew their sizes. As the group was led out, Minerva gave Orion a glance that caused him to look away. He felt like a little kid at school. This woman was already messing with his heart. This was going to be an issue on his focus. He’d have to suppress his feelings until they were on the new world.

“They were...uh. New,” Hopper tried to compliment. “Look commander, I think I speak for all of us when I say. They’re soooo not fit to go to space! None of them other than the FBI agent and your sister are even close to trained!” Hopper spat. Dakota and Altair looked at Hopper a bit worried Orion was about to become angry with Hopper. But he didn’t. He was oddly calm, he even smiled a bit. “I know I know. It’s what the administration sent me. You should’ve seen the other options. Half of them were unemployed teenagers. They’re not ready, that’s for sure. But I don’t think we would’ve been given them if the administration didn’t see something in them,” Orion explained. Hopper coiled back in an embarrassed form. “We don’t have much time, I suggest you all see your families before we leave tomorrow,” Orion said sweetly. “I know I am going to see mine,” Orion spoke before exiting the room, leaving his team looking at each other in curious confusion. “I’m going to check on the team. I might get a chance to teach them SOMETHING about space.” Dakota said and smiled before leaving through the doors that the untrained group had left through. “Wanna grab a few drinks before we throw ourselves into space?” Altair elbowed Hopper. His friend nodded and they continued out of the building.

Orion felt weird not being surrounded by silent space. Being in his car again. Listening to the radio. It was nice, but odd. Driving on the roads and passing other cars. some honking at him, making him think he was doing something wrong until he saw the driver smiling and waving frantically at him. Oh yeah. I’m famous.

He never thought about that. Orion never realized he was so well known. He was an extremely popular Astronaut, At least in America.

Dakota opened the doors to see the small group chatting and being helped into slim suits, much different than the bulky white suits Orion’s Medusa team had to wear in space. “Do you think they understand we have no idea what we’re doing?” Chimera asked to the group. Ford opened his mouth to say something but Dakota answered for them. “Yes, we know. That’s why I’m here.” she spoke. “Oh don’t tell me you’re gonna lecture us on buttons and doo-hickies,” chimera sneered. The group looked at her and collectively snickered, except Astoria. She was putting her suit on by herself. Pulling it on, clicking the metal pieces together and sinching down tabs to fit her better. She’d have to get better acquainted with everyone soon enough. She couldn’t just hug by her big brother the whole time. Minerva walked to Astoria, ignoring Dakota preaching about what space flight will be like. “Astoria? You’re Orion’s little sister right?” Minerva asked after she was finally finished equipping her suit. “Oh, yeah. You’re Minerva. You own that traveling circus right? What was it called.. oh! Circus Aurora,” Astoria answered. Minerva nodded, pleased her shows were so popular. “Yes ma’am, most popular circus in America,” she said. Astoria knew why Minerva was talking to her. She liked her brother. She was trying to get close to him. “Astoria. Minerva. Is there something you’d like to add about how the lack of gravity affects your bones?” Dakota snapped and the others looked at them. “Sorr-“ Minerva started. “Yes ma’m. The lack of gravity can cause you to grow taller. But it also has negative affects that require us to constantly work out so we can maintain physical homeostasis. But of course on the international station you’ve already created gravity. So it doesn’t matter now,” Astoria cut into Minerva.

Orion opened the door to his parent’s house. His childhood home. A lot of good memories here, but he didn’t have much time before his mother got to her tippy-toes and hugged Orion. “Oh my little space boy! I missed you dear!” She cheered and kissed his cheek. “Hi ma, I missed you too,” he said softly. His mom was so sweet and small. Short like Astoria. She had muted brown hair and grey streaks running through, showing her age. Crows feet wrinkles from smiling so much. “Where’s dad?” He asked. Orion hadn’t seen his father in a while, and as much as he missed his mother he really wanted to see his dad. “Oh he’s on the porch in the backyard,” she said and patted his face. “I’ll get you and him some beers!” She said. “Oh it’s ok ma I don’t drink much anymore, but I’ll get one for dad,” Orion stopped her but she gave him an odd look. Almost like she didn’t believe him. “Oh alright, I’ll be there in a bit” she dismissed as Orion went to the fridge to grab a beer for his dad.

Walking out of the house onto the porch was welcoming. Homey. Sweet.

“Oh hey! I didn’t even hear you come in,” an older man said, standing up from a yard chair. Completely grey hair and plenty of stressed wrinkles. “Seen enough of space yet?” The old man chuckled and gratefully accepted the beer from Orion. “Ha, not yet. I leave tomorrow with Ace to ‘The New World’” Orion explained, his father looking shocked. “Already?! Damn I thought that wasn’t for a few more months!” The father said and gestures for the chair next to him. “Oh yeah, time flies I suppose. Hey what’s been up with ace? I now she’s been living here with you guys for the past couple months,” Orion asked as he sat with his dad. “Astoria? She’s been fine really. After bein sent home-“

“Sent home?”

“She didn’t tell you?”

“No? I assumed she retired! Why was she sent home?” Orion asked a bit surprised of how little he truly knew about his little sister.

“Oh..her best friend died in action. Some other things that I think are best you talk to her directly about. I think I might get some of it wrong. She really missed you. We all did really,” his father explained. “God.. I can’t imagine what it must’ve been like. Losing someone like that.. well I’ll have plenty of time to ask her about it.” Orion tried to push back the thought of how he was such a bad brother. He was supposed to protect her. Know her. Be close to her! But he knew nothing about her other than things she told him when they were little.

They spent the evening talking and sharing memories until Orion’s mother came out into the yard to tell them dinner was ready. Orion felt lucky. He had such a picture perfect family. A loving mother. A supportive father. Although him and ace had become distant after he became an astronaut.

But for the most part the evening was shared with perfect memories and food.

“So. When can we expect grandkids?” His mother asked, causing Orion to almost choke on his food. “Woah woah slow down.” He said with a chuckle and wiped his mouth with a napkin. Orion hadn’t even been interested in a girl since before the Medusa mission, let alone close enough with a woman to start a family. “I don’t even have a girlfriend! kids aren’t even a thought yet!” He said nervously. His mother pouted disappointed and his dad laughed a little. “My job requires a lot of my time, hell I haven’t even gone to my apartment in months.” Orion explained and his mother nodded. “Hun’ he’s young. We’ve got time,” his dad defended.

Kids were something he didn’t like thinking about. He still had a lot he wanted to do. To see. To explore. Kids were cute and all but something he didn’t see himself being was a father. Hopefully Ace wants kids or else Orion’s gonna have an earful about how he’s ending the family bloodline.

“And that wraps up the basics.” Dakota said to the group of bored untrained adults. “Well that was hell.” Chimera yapped, which earned her a glare from Dakota. “Hell of a lot of information. Betcha I couldn’t even tell ya one thing from that encyclopedia of a lecture” Ford said, looking over his shoulder to chimera. The young man looked back to Dakota and then snickered. James sat patiently but his foot tapping portrayed otherwise. “That metal is pretty loud,” Ford cheekily commented, referring to James’ prosthetic leg tapping on the tile. “Oh, sorry,” James said sheepishly and stopped his fridgety tapping. “Kinda rude of you to say. It’s not his fault. How’d you lose it anyways? Bomb? Shark? Oh oh! Fight with a giant monster?” Chimera asked happily. Ace glared at Chimera. James was a man of respect! He’d lost a leg and was still serving the government. “Dakota, ma’m? Do you understand why we were picked?” James asked, not answering chimeras question. Which evidently earned a huff of frustration and disappointment from chimera. “Orion picked you from a small selection of applicants sent from the administration. You’ve been chosen based on your individual advantages. For example. Minerva. You were an acrobat correct?” Dakota spoke and received a nod from Minerva. “And you’re very agile and flexible. Which is perfect for the anti-gravity parts of the station. Only a little more than half of the rooms and spaces have complete installed gravity. We’ll need you to help with maintenance in those anti-gravity rooms.” Dakota explained. “Or Astoria. She was almost an astronaut like her brother but just barely missed the cut.” She added, unintentionally rude. “Wow thanks.” Ace hissed. The group struggled to hold back a snicker.

“Alright alright where can we get some sleep?” Ford asked. “Sleep? It’s only 8:20pm,” Minerva answered. “Yeah but do YOU have any idea where we’re supposed to sleep tonight?” Ford replied.

“You’ll all sleep in the hotel the administration rented out. All the rooms are rented so you won’t have to worry about calling too much attention and you’ll be under 24/7 security watch. We’re on a timeline so please switch out of the suits,” Dakota instructed. “Well why did we put them on then?” Ace asked. “Just to get you accustomed to them and the process of equipping them.” Dakota snapped as they huffed, lugging off the gear.

Orion finished his meal with his parents and was currently sitting, talking to them about all the things he had seen from the station. It was getting late though. He needed to meet back with the team and start connecting with the new members. They were going to be gone for a while, there’s no way he’d be able to work well with a team he didn’t know. But that meant getting to know Minerva as well. Orion wasn’t much of a smooth talker. Far from it at that. He was easily embarrassed but could hide it well.

“I should get back. I really didn’t get much of a chance to meet everyone,” Orion explained and stood up. His short mother frowned but nodded understandably. “Well when are we going to see you again?” She asked. “Only a couple months. Maybe a year at max,” Orion smiled, trying to dismiss the fact that could be a lie. “Hopefully you’ll have a girl with ya when you come home” his father chuckled and gave his son a hard pat on the back. “Thanks dad.” Orion retorted with an eye roll. “Goodnight,” He added as they walked him to the door. They said their goodbyes and gave their leaving hugs. Orion only felt at home in space, but maybe this was his second home.

Dakota snapped and the chatty group looked back to their substitute leader. “Well why don’t we head there now. I suspect Commander and the rest of the Medusa team will meet us there. We’ll be taking a private company bus.”

“Where is Commander Orion? Shouldn’t he be here?” James asked, pulling at his tie. “He’s with family, I assure you he’ll answer aaaallll your questions at the hotel.” Dakota promised. Minerva bit at her nail, pondering wether she should pursue talking to Orion or leave him alone. Dakota pushed open the doors and led the team out like a mother and her ducklings. Her untrained, young adult astronaut ducklings. The bus ride was just like a school field trip. The group was talking about how ridiculous it was that they didn’t have spare clothes yet.

The bus halted and Dakota escorted the group out of the vehicle. Orion was already in the lobby, asking the receptionist thousands of questions. “Are we all in separate rooms? Or is it just my team in two rooms and then a level for the rest of the team? Is anyone else in the building? What about food-“ Orion was cut off by Dakota catching his attention, clearing her throat. “Oh you were quick. I was just asking... ms. Nancy a few questions,” he said, gesturing to the older woman behind the desk.

“Well I think your new team had a few questions of their own.” Dakota said, failing to hide a smile. Orion has been less professional today, maybe it was due to all the chaos of being in charge of such child-like team members.

“Oh yes, I guess I didn’t give much time to actually meet you all,” Orion continued as Hopper and Altair arrived. “Orion” Ace started but Dakota shot a glance that made Ace restart. “Commander, will we have any specific physical training before we leave?” She asked. “Yes, you’re all going to receive debriefings on the technical stuff in the rocket and we can show you all some physical work outs here in the hotel gyms,” Orion answered calmly. That smooth tone in his voice, flowing through the recipients ears like water.

“Oh what about The new world? Is there any data we need to cover now before departure?” James asked. “That’s a great question. The New World should have a sustainable atmosphere. In theory it should be breathable but when we arrive I’ll be leaving the aircraft first. With my helmet on. And I’ll take a sample for testing to make sure we can breathe it. It doesn’t have any detected life other than bacteria’s or other microscopic animals. If there was any danger we wouldn’t be going at all.” Orion answered promptly.

“I think we should all rest. You’ll need plenty of energy for tomorrow,” he added. “Your rooms are on the second floor. 203-212,” the receptionist instructed and dismissed them to their rooms with security guards patrolling the floors of the hotel.

Orion was roomed with his sister and Minerva in a two bed room. Dakota had thrown him with the two young ladies.

Minerva wasn’t any less embarrassed than Orion to be in the same room with him.

“I’ll take the bed next to the window with Minerva.” Ace explained, saving Orion’s pride of either sleeping in the same bed as Minerva or embarrassed with his little sister. Whom he hadn’t spoken to in years, or at least a lot in the past few years.

Orion pulled off his jacket. The USA badge on the left shoulder, along with another badge with his name on the chest. Minerva couldn’t help but stare at him move. The way he pulled out of the jacket and draped it over the chair. “So Commander,” Minerva started. “Please, I know Dakota always says Commander. But I prefer Orion,” he said kindly as Ace watched the sparks fly. She slipped past and into the bathroom so she could wash her face and get ready to crash for the night.

“Right, sorry, Orion,” Minerva corrected with a smile. “Well Orion. Dakota said you chose me because of my aerobic abilities,” she said as she pulled her shoes off and moved to pull the tail coat off as well. “Dakota was correct, but I also selected you because I assumed your instincts and balance must be impeccable. Being able to predict and figure your movements out in order to do a show correctly requires lightning fast thinking and that... is what we need,” he answered, trailing off for a moment as he gazed at her removing her jacket and moving to her bed to pull the covers back. “Well thank you. I’d say I have great accuracy with anything I do. Maybe you’ll have to see one of my shows for proof,” she flirted, receiving a smile from Orion in response. “Ah yes, for research of course,” he joked and ended it with a laugh.

Ace walked out, yawning as she dragged herself to her side of the bed with Minerva. “Hey Ace.” Orion attended. Astoria looked to her older brother tiredly, a frustrated look resting on her face. “I missed you,” Orion said kindly before climbing into his bed. “I missed you too.” She said a bit shortly and quietly but Orion accepted it nonetheless. He laid facing toward the wall. His bed was on the right. Minerva and Ace were on the left bed, near the window. Minerva rested on the right side, facing to see Orion’s back.

Even through his grey shirt she could see the making of his shoulders and build. She turned to her other side, facing away from him. No boys. There’s a serious mission tomorrow.

The 3 slept soundly in their room. The rest of the team assuming the same sleep. The sun slowly rose, Orion awake before it came up. His hair was crazy messy, poking in every direction.

Crap. She can’t see me like this! I look stupid!

He thought pulling himself to the bathroom and pushing his fingers through his hair. He tediously re-parted his hair, the usual side part and let it swipe over his forehead. Orion sighed relieved and went to get his jacket. “You’re up early,” Astoria said, looking like she’d been awake for hours.

“Since when were you an early bird as well?” He asked, a bit surprised at her sudden awakening. “Since I had to wake up to airhorns every morning at 6 AM. “She said failing to hold back small smile at her own rhetorical joke. “Oh I forgot you must’ve had strict sleeping schedules in the army,” he answered. Minerva grumbled with the yawn. She sat up, stretching after hearing them talking. “Are we leaving?” She asked drowsily. Astoria looked back at the young woman. “no not yet I don’t think. But when are we leaving?” Ace answered but looked to Orion when she asked her question. “In a few hours. Probably at around 8 or 9 AM,” the older brother answered. A knock interrupted their short conversation. Orion looked a bit curiously but then waltzed over to the door, opening it to reveal Dakota holding a pile of jumpsuits. “Oh good morning,” Orion greeted, only to get a tired huff from Dakota in return. “Sir, you and the teams clothes for today. It’s the commercial jumpsuits,” she said, trying to maintain a responsible tone. “Thank you,” Orion spoke and took the folded suits from her before closing the door after she left.

“We got your suits. I’ll change in the bathroom,” he said calmly and looked at the badges on the suits to see which was for who. He passed Astoria and Minerva theirs. Two muted navy blue suits with an American flag badge on the left shoulder and a name badge on the chest.

The commander politely went to the bathroom to change and give them their space. A bit odd Dakota roomed him with Minerva. It was understandable he was put with his sister but he expected her to give him Hopper or James. He brushed off the thought of a possibility Dakota already knew what feelings he had for Minerva and chose to sabotage him.

He exited the bathroom after ace declared they were changed. Orion’s suit was darker, more grey, and had more badges. It had a separate pin that had abstract wings formed out from a center circle. “Yours is different,” Minerva said curiously. “Well duh, he’s the commander.” Ace corrected. “Obviously, but what about the winged pin?” Minerva asked to Astoria but Orion answered. “Because I’m the pilot. Me and Dakota are the ones flying the ship,” he said smooth as he folded his clothes he was wearing before and left them on the bed he slept on.

Astoria huffed a little frustrated her brother was so successful. It was unfair they had the same dream but he got to live it.

“I think we should leave now, we still have to prepare you for launch and reentry simulations,” Orion explained as he headed to the door.

As the three left their room they were greeted to see Ford and Chimera talking in the hall. “So you own a bar?” Chimera asked the taller man. “Yes’m best bar in Texas. When we get back I’ll show ya around,” Ford said so smoothly, making chimera blush. “Oh I don’t think old enough, I’m 20.” She explained but ford only gave a smirk. “I’m sure I can sneak you in.”

“Alright enough you two,” Orion said with a smug grin, crossing his arms. Which of course earned a glance from Minerva of Orion’s built arms. But now The two flirting in the hall flinched at Orion’s powerful voice. Their faces went red and they became fidgety. “I- we were jus’ talkin,” Ford managed out but Orion dismissed it. “Have you seen Dakota?” Orion asked. “I’m right here,” Dakota answered blankly. That cold, almost emotionless tone as usual.

“Ah there you are. Is everyone ready?” Orion asked and looked to see the rest of the group drowsily emerging. Of course not Jame though. He had his suit on, little to no wrinkles and a soft smile on his face.

Orion got the team grouped together and lead them like Dakota had, taking them to the bus. It carried the group back to the large grey building. Ford and chimera still chatty as ever. Astoria would occasionally talk with Minerva but she stayed quiet for the most part. Hopper and Altair were told their goodbyes at the hotel. They weren’t going to accompany the team on this mission.

The Aquarius team left the bus with Dakota leading now. She took them into the building and let them trail behind her into a smaller room that had an odd contraption. Almost like a huge white box on a stand in a large blank room. Two men were sitting at monitors behind glass windows. “Welcome to the G-Force centrifuge,” Dakota introduced. The team of untrained astronauts cowered at the sight of the big machine. “Don’t worry Commander and I will demonstrate first,” Dakota smiled. Orion seemed caught off guard but he rolled along with it. Dakota lectured how the machine worked and then ushered them out of the room to the scientists behind the monitors to watch while she and Orion got situated into the contraption. Inside we’re two seats, they looked just like the ones in the space craft. Orion and Dakota had two separate cameras in them. For the team behind the glass, Orion was on one monitor and Dakota on another. Their breathing levels and heart rate were displayed with their names.

“Eagle, we’re ready.” Orion said into the microphone on his small headset. “Alright commander, we’re starting her up,” one of the men at the monitors responded and Orion answered with a nod. Dakota pressed a button and the dash lit up. “Eagle 1 ready launch,” Orion said blank and calm as the machine started up. Slowly turning before speeding up. The trainees looked concerned and not eager to have their turn. But even against the speedily force of being pressed against the seats, Orion and Dakota kept their composure. “You all ok in there?” The man at the monitor asked. “Yes sir. Proceeding with orbit exit procedure. After that Dakota will continue with separation.” Orion said cooly as he swiftly pressed a series of blinking buttons and flipped several switches. the lights of the dash turned off on his side, leaving only Dakotas dash of buttons. Dakota took control and calmly continued her separation procedure until the machine slowed and the two sighed relieved.

The simulation ended and the two got out. Orion smiled and waved at the team pressed against the glass. After only a few minutes Dakota and Orion we’re behind the glass along with most of the team. Now it was Chimera and Ford. Orion spoke into the microphone so he could explain to them what they were going to do. “Alright. You won’t need to do anything with the buttons or press anything, this is just to train you for what the force of the Gs will be like. I highly doubt you won’t vomit but at least try to keep it in until it’s over. If you can’t, press the big red button in the center. That’ll cancel the machine and it’ll emergency stop.” Orion said calmly.

He watched the two handle the force well. They looked terrified and balled up into the seats but much better than expected. Although after they were removed from the machine, chimera raced to the bathroom to throw up. Ford almost did the same but he kept it down.

The next group’s cycled through, each reacting the same. Extremely uncomfortable and nauseous.

Until it reached ace and James. Orion expected them to be better but not this much better. They almost seemed unphased. Ace was very calm, understandable, she’d experienced this training before. But James. He was an agent yes but not an astronaut. How was he able to keep his composure so well?

“Well if you’re all done throwing up I think we’ll take the rest of the time to start getting ready for launch,” Orion said and begun to explain how seating in the space craft would be arranged as Dakota led them out the training area and too a more office-like collection of halls. All of them were still uneasy but now more confident. They were still alive, so if they could handle training they could handle the force of launch.

They walked until Commander stopped them. Dakota pausing curiously. Orion opened his mouth to explained to Dakota why he stopped but he felt like it seemed unprofessional. He continued, ignoring a Dakota’s blank but impatient expression.

“The launch will be fairly early, at 1pm sharp. We should be at station by 11pm. You all won’t need to do anything when we launch, you’re not trained in flying the craft so there’s really nothing you’ll need to do until we get to the station. Lieutenant Dakota and I are the pilots as I said before.” Orion explained, beginning on a long lecture of the systems and what procedures will be followed.

But Minerva was barely listening. She was gawking at his clean ashy brown hair. His sharp jaw, his build. She gazed wondering if Orion’s eyes were a new type of blue. It felt like it. His eyes were like blue diamonds. Oceans captured under the glassy iris. It wasn’t fair. She wouldn’t have applied if she had known he would be such a distraction.

Minervas thoughts were interrupted by Orion’s eyes locking with hers. She stood frozen for a moment before darting her eyes away, but when she looked back to him he was still looking at her. He paused from what he was saying after he finished his sentence and gave her a warm gleaming smile.

Minervas heart leapt out of her chest and her eyes scampered to something else. Anything else. Then she met Ace’s eyes. Astoria’s expression was an odd one. Something of disappointment? A hint of aggression and was that a hopeful twinge of joy she saw? Minerva read people well. Very well, almost like a superpower. All she needed was to look into someone’s eyes and read them. Of course she could never read Orion because anytime their eyes met she panicked.

Orion felt the same. He barely had the courage to smile at her like that. He wanted to get to know her more. He knew her stats, her name, but he didn’t know her.

Before they knew it they were already moving again, walking down the halls until they were back into the room they were in yesterday. The room they used to suit up. Now Dakota instructed them to pull on the suits, which the whole team followed. Including Orion. He was finished first, then moving on to help the others.

Of course he made his way to minerva first. “Need some help?,” he said kindly but still somehow smooth and laid back.

“Oh yeah, I guess I’m not used to all the adjustments on this thing,” she said a bit pink in the face that she required assistance. The commander smiled at her excuse. “Trust me you’ll get the hang of it quick. Although it took me weeks to get the hang of it. But Dakota showed me up just after a few days of practice she was in and out of her suit,” Orion made small talk as he pulled down on a zipper to get it to zip but up smoothly. He stood in-front of her and placed his hand on her shoulder and pulled the front zipper up. Then pulled over the velcro flap and then the sticking seal that went over it.

She could feel his hand on her shoulder. She barely looked at him but him just being in-front of her and coming in contact with her was enough to send her face into a peachie blush.

He was so kind. So handsome. So professional it really was alluring. “Thank you,” Minerva thanked sheepishly. “Oh don’t mention it,” he smiled and her heart beat like a drum. His was too and he was struggling to not show his emotions. “You and my sister seem to get along well,” he said a bit abruptly, trying to focus his mind on anything else. “Astoria? Oh yeah. She’s really chill. I never would’ve guessed you were related though,” Minerva said, kindly smiling. She hadn’t realized she had become friendly acquainted with his younger sister already. She was happy to have someone to talk to. Although Astoria tended to have more of a pessimistic tone sometimes.

Orion chuckled at Minervas note. “I suppose I look more like our mom while she took our dads genes,” he explained. It was true, they had taken completely separate faces. Orion was more sharp toned and even a much lighter skin tone than his younger sister. “Maybe we can-“ Minerva started but she was cut off by

Dakota clearing her throat to get her commanders attention. “Hold that thought,” he said before moving to where the Lieutenant stood. “We need to get to the ship. Launch is only an hour and a half away,” Dakota nodded looking a bit stressed. “Thank you,” he said sweetly and friendly put his hand on her shoulder as he was about to lead out the group but he paused and turned back to her. “Lieutenant, thank you. You’ve helped out a lot,” he thanked kindly before getting the group’s attention and leading the team out with Dakota to the outside. Crowds were visible in the distance but they were practically miles away from the launch pad. They were forced to be so far from the rocket for safety reasons. Which was a risk Orion took every launch. The possibility something might go wrong and he could die in only minutes. Ending his life only because of a minor malfunction or a mistake in the calculations.

The Team was escorted to the rocket in its launch pad. The plane-like rocket standing gallantly on the huge concrete pad. Shimmering in the sun and reflecting on the white panels.

The team was led by the commander and his lieutenant into a narrow bridge like structure in to the spacecraft. The anxious group climbed into its passenger seats, then Orion and Dakota entered in another entrance. It was almost separate to the others. Like a car, the passengers far behind like children while the pilots were at the controls. Orion made sure his helmet was secure for the third time, then turning his head to check his team. They were all seated snug in their seats. This was going to be an adventure for the history books.

“Is everyone secure?” The commander asked, receiving a nod from the team. They were all so anxious and uncomfortable. Except for ace. She was practically falling asleep.

It felt like hours passed before the group finally got comfortable and relaxed. Ace rested her eyes but jolted them open at the slightest sounds. James seemed lost in thought, something taking him away from this dimension. Minerva was busy worrying about her family back home, but Chimera chatted up with Ford again. She loved talking to him. His accent was so attractive, so gruff.

“Your bar. Are you the actual owner? Or just got the job?” She asked curiously, he seemed caught off guard by the question. “Yes’m it was my pop’s bar originally. Then when I was old nuff’ he passed it down to me,” he explained in the rough but friendly tone he owned. Chimera smiled and looked into his eyes with deep interest. He was so fun to talk to. “Say, what bout’ you? I realize I haven’ asked you about what you do,” Ford contributed as he pushed his hand through his hair and sent chills down chimera’s spine. “Oh me? Well it’s a bit embarrassing compared to your job,” she said sheepishly but didn’t wait for him to disagree before continuing. “I’m kind of an influencer. I livestream and post dumb stuff,” she explained. Ford really struggled to hold back a laugh, but with his success he nodded. “That ain’t too bad. You’re doing what ya enjoy,” Ford grinned.

Orion wondered if the two lovebirds knew they were on the main intercoms and everyone could hear them. Oh well. It’d be more embarrassing to tell them now. But Dakotas sly grin made Orion get the memo she was hiding her humor of the two flirting.

Ford tapped at the arm rest and thought for a moment. They could possibly die in the next 30 minutes and he did not want to die before he could ask, “hey, If we survive all this space junk would you wanna go to dinner some time?”

Chimera was a bit shocked, she had a feeling he liked her but she didn’t know he’d be so forward. “Like a date-date?” She asked, pink In the face. “Yeah, like a date-date.” He repeated, expressing he was a bit nervous she was embarrassed to say no. “I’d love to,” she said kindly and put her hand on his as his rested on the arm rest. She pulled her eyes away to see the entire group looking at them like they were watching a movie.

Both of them became extremely red in the face and chimera quickly pulled her hand back to her lap. “Mind yer own business,” Ford spat out of a bashful aggression. The group became a bunch of hyenas trying to hold back their cackles. Ace couldn’t even hide her smile and Minerva had to physically bite her lip to stop herself. “Well if you two have settled your dinner date plans we’re launching in less than 5 minutes,” Orion beamed and got a blazing glare from Ford and his new partner.

The team waited the long 4 minutes as their commander and lieutenant started scouring the controls. They spoke in quick code words and procedural terms and before they knew it they heard a new voice over the intercom. “Alright Aquarius, T-minus, 10..9..8..7..6”

“5..”

“4..”

“3..”

“2..”

“1..”

And Orion pushed the throttles quickly, adjusting 2 of the 3 as the rocket shook as it launched. He was piloting these peoples lives. If something happened it would be on his hands. He glanced over his shoulder to capture a look at his new team. The untrained astronauts clenched in their seats. Ford and Chimera gripping each other’s hands, unknowing and blind to what the next moments hold. For all they knew this could be their last moments. Their last few breaths.

But all pessimistic thoughts from the team were washed away as they rose. The spacecraft projecting higher into the air until it was finally not full of turbulent spasms.

A collective of relieved sighs were shared and cheering could be heard over the intercom.

“Uh, sir, do we have to stay in these seats the whole ride?” Ford asked, and quickly let go of chimeras hand when Orion looked to Ford.

“Oh no no I just need to get us on course and then you’re free to roam,” Orion answered and turned back to his controls as Dakota helped him code in the autopilot for their trip. “Alright the ship has some generated gravity but it’s not enough to keep you completely grounded. like being on the moon,” Orion explained but Ford was already slipping out of his seat and bounding through the port of the passengers capsule. Of course Chimera followed him. Orion sighed like a parent sighed when their toddler was being a nuisance. The commander pulled himself out of the seat and bounded lightly to a large hall, similar to the on the station. There were only small windows here, it would be impossible for big glass panels to survive re-entry to earth. But the young commander took what he could get, looking out the small windows and viewing the quickly passing stars. He wanted to rest. To really rest. These past few months have been stressful, preparing for this mission specifically. Maybe he could get some rest at his seat. The spacecraft had rooms, enough for the team to sleep comfortably, but Orion didn’t want to. He wanted to be at his seat if he was needed in an emergency. The ship was large enough to house them and carry much cargo, But not nearly as big as the space station.

Orion felt drowsiness tug away at him like a child begging for attention. He listened to his brain and it’s instruction to rest, taking his light stepped walk back to the main seating and control room. “Dakota do you mind if I take a nap?” He asked. Dakota looked oddly at him, like she didn’t understand why he was asking her permission. “I suppose so, the other three already beat you to it,” Dakota motioned to the three members practically passed out. Maybe it was the movements of the ship, lulling motions, peace and quiet, no bright lights other than the sun behind the earth and the lights from the control panel.

Orion sat down into his seat and slumped down. His eyes begged to stay open against heavy weights of his eyelids, but they were unsuccessful. His mind led him into a light nap, drifting in and out of the dream stages.

Crashing sounds and crackling electricity roared through him. All he could see was embers on a dying piece of wood. Set in a blazing flame. But the sounds were coming from somewhere. Screaming. Begging for him to lead them. Lead who? The voices didn’t sound familiar. Or did they? Maybe they didn’t and he couldn’t fathom someone he knew dying or needing him so. Sharp, ear splitting pains of metal being contorted and ripped broke through. And suddenly Orion found himself awake. Everyone back in their seats, also awake, looking at Orion oddly. “You slept for quite a long time” Ace cracked a teasing joke. “Really how long?” He asked Ace but Dakota answered. “About 7 hours,” at that Orion looked surprised. “James owes me $10. He bet you’d be out for ‘nother hour or two.” Ford said, folding his arms in pride of his win, but James looked over at him with an out-of-character glare. “I was going to have to wake you up if you slept any longer. You slept last night right? You know it’s against protocol to fly without sufficient rest.” Dakota said, concerned for her leader but stern in assumed disappointment. “Yeah I slept well, I don’t understand why I was so tired.”

7 hours? Why did she let me sleep that long!

He pushed back his hair and felt eyes on him, even after the team had gone back to either sitting silently and gazing around or talking to their seated members. He looked over his shoulder and caught Minerva’s eyes dart away before he could meet hers.

He looked back to his controls and then to space, seeing the large red planet ahead. Now it was small, still distant, but it’s size grew the closer they got.

They got closer and closer until they could see some detail in the actual mass of the planet.

It was gorgeous. Stunning reds and paralyzing oranges. It seemed like a vibrant Grand Canyon. Even from space some of the deepest ravines and trenches in the rock were visible.

A blinking red lit up his face, catching the commanders attention. “That’s weird, it says one of the thrusters isn’t turning back on.” Orion notified, furrowing his brow. “But fuel is full, they did 23 diagnostic checks. It has to be wrong,” Dakota answered. Orion furrowed his brow further. This didn’t feel right, the awful taste of copper stung his tongue.

The team behind the two pilots looked to each other confused and worried. That probably was the last thing they wanted to hear before landing on a giant red planet.

“Pull back on speed, we’re coming in too fast,” Dakota instructed. “I did, if I go any lower the thrusters will shut down” the commander looked to Dakota but she seemed to realize something. “Oh my god. It’s the gravity of the damn planet!” She said but her realization was scoured as alarms screamed suddenly and the controls flashed into shut down. Orion pulled at the yolk but the ship didn’t respond. They were hurdling toward the planet at dangerous speeds.

“Shit.”

“We need to get the nose up! Or find somewhere like a body of water!” Dakota said, pressing buttons and pulling at the controls. “Do you see any damn water?!” Orion spat.

“Are we going to crash?!” Chimera said in a high pitched scared voice. “No. Well maybe. But just stay calm. We’re going to crash land.” Orion said in a new tone. A new one none of them had heard, aggressive frustration and stress.

The ship trembled under the stress of the dense atmosphere. “Crash land?! Do you see those canyons?” James chimed in. “Our best chance is that desert, the sand is the softest thing i can see,” Orion said, trying to keep everyone calm.

They were crashing through the sky of the red planet. The team was going to die if they hit nose in like this. Just as Orion thought that, the controls flashed their color again. “AH HA! YES!” Orion cheered and pulled up, the nose barely pulling up but it helped a lot.

Their stressful efforts weren’t enough, the nose wasn’t raising fast enough.

“Everyone hold on!” Orion shouted, putting his arm out over Dakota. His arm used as protection. He knew the force would force his arm to do absolutely nothing to help, but he did it anyways.

“Orion- I just want to say. I really like y-“ Minerva tried to say, but her words were cut off by crashing into sand. Metal screaming in tortured pain. Alarms blasting. Glass shattering.

Orion heard it too. The painful screech of metal and impact sound. Loud. Chaotic loud. But all of a sudden it was silent. Was he dead? Had the crash killed him? Had he killed the others because he failed to check the reports of this planets gravity?

But then he heard ringing. Deafening ringing. And something hot. And pain.

He couldn’t be dead if he felt pain right?

The commanders eyes pried open. Sand pressed against his face until he pulled himself up. A shattering pain in his rib made his hand quickly run to support the painful jagged feeling. He blinked in the bright sun. his eyes adjusted to ships nose deep in the sand and the shattered glass windows at his feet. Dakota was bent over in her seat and he couldn’t see the others clear enough. Wait. How could he see so well? He felt his helmet and realized the protective glass panel over the face was gone. He was breathing the planets air. His breath quickened, his mind tricking him into thinking he was poisoned by the air. But he was fine. He checked his arm to see his breathing was normal, the air was breathable.

He coughed and got to his feet. He needed to see who survived, it was a miracle on its own he had survived himself. Being thrown out of the ship like that.

“Dakota,” he said raspy and hoarse. He climbed into the dark ship, pain screaming at him from his ribs. The commander ignored it and pushed Dakota back against her seat. Her head was bleeding but her chest was moving. “Oh thank god. Dakota!” He shouted and removed her helmet. The Lieutenant’s eyes blinked open. “..Commander?”

“Dakota. I need you to tell me if you’re in pain.” He said stern but she shook her head. “Just my head, wait your helmet. The glass..” she said delirious. “No no it’s fine, the air is breathable. Come on lieutenant I need your help checking the others,” Orion ordered and removed her helmet, moving to unbuckle her. She was still extremely dazed but he needed to examine the damage on the rest of his team.

He went to Minerva first. He looked over her suit, seeing no blood or any sign of injuries. Her chest rose with intake of air and dropped with exhales. He smiled with an invasive relief. Without her permission he removed her helmet and looked to Dakota, catching the quick image of her slowly rising to help her commander see to the others.

Orion quickly dashed to ace.

His stomach dropped as he saw a large piece of glass in her shoulder. Blood crashing out of the wound. The glass looking menacingly large, deep in her shoulder. Even alone it looked about the size of his forearm. He couldn’t lose his sister. He just got her back. He quickly scampered to remove her helmet and the glass from her arm. She was unconscious like Minerva, which made now the best time to take the glass out without causing too much pain to his little sister. Her eyes flashed awake and she shouted in a mix of pain and fear. “I’m sorry- I’m so sorry! Dakota! I need the first aid!” He shouted to his partner who was attending to Ford but she nodded and raced away to find the first aid. “You’re going to be fine, i don’t think it hit anything vital,” he said, pressing his hands against the wound. “Wait my helmet! What if the air-“

“The air is fine,” he said sternly. “I can handle it from here. Check on the others.” Dakota ordered and attended to Astorias shoulder. Orion hesitatingly nodded; he wanted to stay by his sister. He didn’t want to leave her side but Dakota was right.

He went to James but he was already awake and looking around. “James, Are you ok?” Orion asked with a stressed expression. “I think so, I feel fine, my head is throbbing and I can’t hear out of my right ear though,” James answered confused. “Is everyone okay?” He added. “I think so but I need to check on chimera,” Orion answered before he went to the smaller woman’s side and took her helmet. Blood ran from her nose and her breathing was much more slower than the others but she was alright. “Is everyone okay?” Orion shouted, even Minerva made a grunt of an answer as she awoke. A miracle. An absolute miracle. No one was killed, only injuries they could survive.

He ran down to Minerva and looked at her concerned, kneeling by her seat. “Are you okay? No extreme pains?” He asked. “I feel fine. Well for being in a crash I feel fine at least,” she smiled and rubbed her head.

The commander sighed relieved and smiled, beaming at her living breaths.

But the sound of sand moving was an interruption. Sand slipping and shifting until he looked to see something snaking under the grainy ground. “What is that.” Ford blurted.

A large creature bursted from the sand, causing the group to scream. Minerva embraced Orion and he shielded her from hot sand and the creature screeching. He looked over his shoulder to see a screaming centipede writhing from the sand and racing at them.

God was not on their side today.

Orion turned back to hold Minerva in a protective embrace as the alien being screamed toward them, racing with its legs skittering against the sand.

A shadow arrived. Like a sudden cloud crafted from nothing in moments.

Giant talons stomped on the creature attacking the ships residents. Everything was moving so fast. A sickening crunch sounded as the alien went silent as jaws with teeth bigger than a grown mans head clamped down on it.

They were saved from the centipede but now they faced a worse foe.

The dangerous mouth disappeared and Orion pried himself from Minerva curiously. Hearing crunching and bug guts falling in the sand at the sounds of the giant beast devoured the sickening overgrown insect.

Suddenly a man was carried in the palm of the beast. Long jet black hair tied up and fair skin to combat it. Covered in hand-made armor. It looked like dull scales of some sort, nothing like the ones on the beast’s. Had this man tamed the beast.

“Who.. wh-who are you?” Minerva said over her human shield in a shaking voice. “I’m Aphelios. You’re welcome for saving you by the way,” the armored man spoke. But the beast bellowed a hissing growl as if in disagreement. “Sorry. That HE saved you.” He added, but the team was in a paralyzed shock. Orion was suddenly aware of his body shielding Minerva, his face flushing red as he pulled himself away from her. She was just as red, but keeping her eyes away from Orion. “‘He?’” Orion asked. “Wait no, who are you? How are you here? Are you human?” Orion rambled but Aphelios laughed and shook his head. “I’ll explain to my best ability over some food. You all should set up camp soon,” Aphelios informed and stepped back, the dragon-like beast snarling as it moved away from the ship and sat in the sand. It’s scales were so red, deep dark red with tan under scales. “Don’t worry ol’ Ganymede here won’t eat you.” The dark hair man said before sitting at his beasty friends talons.

The group was stunned but Dakota stepped toward the crashed ship’s opening, peering out to see the towering dragon. She stood paralyzed winged serpent straining its neck down to look at her. It’s head bigger than a school bus. Dakota stumbled back, fearing its teeth were about to become visible and tear her apart. But the beast huffed and Aphelios crossed his arms.

Orion looked from his lieutenant back to Minerva. He was now standing beside her seat but she looked confused and very off. Something looked wrong with her. She seemed to be searching around and reacting to sounds that weren’t there.

“He’s right we need to use the ship for shelter. I’ll set up camp, you all need to rest,” Orion ordered and got to his feet. Something shocked his finger tips but he assumed it was static electricity. He pulled himself out of the ship, but he grasped his rib which caused everyone to look at their leader concerned. “Wait Commander are you hurt? We should try to get the ships electrical system running and get you to the infirma-“ Dakota started, stern and a bit frustrated he hadn’t told her he was hurt. “It’s just my rib. I’m fine.” He cut in almost harshly, making Dakota recoil. Her morals were stunted by her loyalty to his orders. The team was also afraid to cut in, causing them to sit in fear and choked silence.

“Aphelios, I’m commander Orion of mission Aquarius. Do you live here?” He asked, painfully shaking the odd mans hand. “I’ll explain it all over some food. It’s quite a long story,” Aphelios answered. “I can make a fire, you need to listen to your team and get some medical attention,” he added and crouched down to the sand, pulling out some oddly colored rocks that seemed to glow in burning embers. The dark haired man organized the rocks in a triangle pattern and placed some odd dirt-like substance over them. A fire birthed immediately from the formation and the team collectively looked interested in the fire. Orion had too many questions and one about how the fire had just been created was one of them.

“Fine.” Orion admitted. “I’ll work on the console,” Dakota said and got to work on trying to find the source of the power loss. “I’ll help. I know the ship better than anyone,” he added gruffly as he slipped back into the ship with a grit of his teeth.

“I need everyone else out, if we get something wrong and something happens you all need to be safe outside,” the commander ordered and caught Minerva’s eyes locked with his as she got out of her seat with the others. Her expression seemed so painful troubled, but somehow so concerned and sympathetic for him.

“Uh. Guys I need help,” James said as he tugged at his prosthetic leg. Ford walked over to the trapped man to see his metal leg contorted and warped, pinned by a rogue piece of metal debris. “Oh shit. Damn you got luckily unlucky,” Ford couldn’t help but laugh. “Cmon I’ll help ya,” the southern gentleman snickered and helped pull James out of his pinned prosthetic leg. Chimera peered over, watching Ford hell James.

The Texan and the amputee leaned on each other as they exited the ship. Chimera followed dazed, along with Ace gripping her bandaged shoulder and heading out of the ship to stand with Minerva.

The team stood looking at the seated beast. It’s cobra hood flared out and was large enough to create shade for the group. Their jaws were dropped open in shock at the size of the creature. The beasts talons alone were as big as a house cat. The claws curled and abnormally long.

Orion sighed and pulled the protective panel off the controls. “There,” Dakota said, pointing to a mess of wires. “Thank you,” Orion said back in his kind and smooth voice. He reached to the wires but blue electricity sparked from his fingertips and caused him to reel back. “Oh my god are you okay?!” Dakota asked frantically. But he looked at his hand confused, his hand wasn’t fried. He hadn’t felt any pain or anything really. “Yeah.. that was odd.” Orion nodded. He couldn’t have done that. Right?

No no of course not. Even the thought of entertaining that seemed childish, but he looked back up at the console of controls to see it lit up. The power had been restored successfully! Yet why was Orion so curious about how it happened? Electric shock from this spacecraft could kill a whale 3 times. So why didn't he feel a thing?

“Alright come on. Let’s get you some help,” Dakota spoke as she brought Orion to his feet and started walking him though the ship. The lieutenant gave the newly powered controls a suspicious look over her shoulder before focusing back on her wounded Commander. Orion used Dakota as a crutch, but still kept most of his weight for his own body to carry. Dakota was strong, but not strong enough to let Orion lean on her completely. Especially not after that crash.

Orion rested down on the white, small, hospital bed. The impeccably clean room seemingly untouched from the ship's accident. Dakota was trained in all necessary medical needs, leaving Orion in great trustful hands. Orion wanted to remember what exactly she was doing but his mind was in a spiral. Who in God’s name is that man? Why. No. HOW does he have a giant dragon pet? How did they get here? Where was minerva? Or Ace? Did they need him? Or what about the console. The power that shocked out from his hand looked different than a white spark of uncontrolled electricity.

Suddenly he heard his name. “Commander Orion? Orion?” Dakota said, waving her hand over his face to get his attention. He blinked back into reality, finding the lieutenant holding gause and a firm bandaging speel. “I need to bandage it,” she informed coldly and blank as always. “You already did the X-ray?” He asked oddly. “Uh yeah? We got the new system remember?” she asked and pointed to a gun-like scanner. She seemed concerned about his mental health and his recent decline in focus.

He remembered her request to bandage him up, leading him to unzip the front of his suit, only low enough to get a clear look and range for bandaging. Of course it didnt matter to Dakota, she just looked blankly at him and continued to her process of bandaging his wound.

Her commander winced in pain as she wrapped his ribs tight with the soft gauze before setting the speel down on a metal counter. She swapped to a tougher, more elastic material. Dakota wrapped it over the original gauze and kept it tight, forcing Orion to grit his teeth. “Alright. That should do it. But even with this you need to take it easy.”

Easy? That seemed stupid. For the love of god they just crashed on a planet they know next to nothing about. Their ship was physically incapable of flight and something was just overwhelmingly wrong with the environment.

Again the commander got lost in thoughts and found himself outside with a setting sun and his team. Standing around a fire. Orion looked up to see the gigantic beast sitting like a dog. Its reddish scales splotched with lighter tints and a pale under-belly. Its wings folded in, barely at that. They were too large to fully lay against its sides. And its eyes. Its piercing white and purple eyes. He stared into them for a moment. They looked so human-like. So trapped. Something was wrong.

Ace opened her mouth to speak but something stopped her. Minerva still looked so troubled, biting at her nails and flinching like someone was yelling at her. “Hey space president, You alright?” Ford asked, genuinely concerned. “Yes, thank you. Only a few broken ribs,” Orion responded. Dakota looked to Aphelios, “are you going to explain who you are now?”

The charcoal haired man grinned smugly and adjusted the fire. “Yes ma’am.” he answered.

“I guess there’s not any easy way to open this. Ganymede her,” he started, gesturing to the beast that was big enough to use a sky-skraper as a scratching post. “He’s actually human. Well he used to be at least,”

“Wait you’re serious? How that's not possi-” Chimera started but Aphelios interrupted her. “I’ll explain, so be quiet.” he huffed. “Ganymede, Farlow and I were the original Aquarius Mission.” Everyone looked confused and full of questions but glares from Aphelios shut them down. “We crash landed just a few miles from here. The sand swallowed it whole over the course of a few days but that’s not the point. We crashed. But we lost radio communication with the station and they thought we were dead. I assume by the shocked expressions they covered it up. We probably don't even exist in their databases anymore.” The armored survivor said before taking a sip from his canteen. “Now. the reason my friend is a giant dragon. See. there was this other creature where we crashed. It looked like some sore plated salamander. But with teeth like daggers. So this thing attacked me and my buddy here. It took my hand but only took a bite from Ganymede.” Apelios explained, showing the crudely factored fake left-hand when he brought it up. “Now here's where it gets crazy. I wake up and I look like Ganymede,”

“Like. a dragon?” Orion asked with a furrowed brow. “Correct. Not the same color but scales and all that. Eventually I found out I could change back. But that's also when we realized he could not.” Aphelios explained. Ganymede lowered his head, laying on the ground. His eyes agreed to Aphelios replication of the events. “So he’s been like this for about a year,” Aphelios spoke blankly. “Hold on how long have you been here?!”

Ace raised her voice in frustration at her inward question. “3 years, now let me finish. Here’s the problem. I’m slowly becoming more and more like the dragon version of me. Every day I have a few scales on my arms that I painstakingly remove, hoping it’ll slow the process. But even then the amount of scales that appear every morning are increasing. I think if I survive 10 more years I’ll be a full dragon by then.” he started fiddling with his hair. The long strands falling through his fingers like water. “That’s awful! So he’s stuck as a dragon and you’re slowly becoming one?” Chimera asked empathetically and worried. Ford’s arm was around her shoulder but he didnt look even half as sympathetic as she did. “That’s correct.” Aphelios answered and looked to Ganymede.

The beast growled and roared with the back of his throat as if he was trying to speak but the only thing coming out was animalistic noises. “I can't understand what you’re saying.” Aphelios grunted. The dragon hissed and used a talon to write ‘cure’ as small as possible but the handwriting was awful and dug deep in the dirt sand. “Oh the cure.” Aphelios spoke for his scaled friend. “We think there might be a cure. Some sort of substance or natural resource. It may be in those grimey little salamanders' blood but every time we try to collect samples from their bodies it burns anything like acid.” he explained. Chimera clenched her heart. She wanted to help them find a cure. The poor man was trapped as a feral beast and couldn't save himself.

“Alright. Now questions.” Aphelios said smug. The group all blurted out questions at the same time. “Maybe we can help” “What happened to Farlow?” “If you can turn into a dragon, prove it.” “Where can we find the salamanders?” “sounds like BS to me” “why would they cover up the mission?” chimera, Dakota, Ace, James, Ford and Orion blurted. Minerva was still quiet. She looked like she had not blinked in hours too.

“Woah woah okay okay. First of all. They covered the failed mission because of our rivalry with the other countries on the station. Farlow. Well he. Disappeared. After the crash we couldn't find his body. No tracks, no blood. Nothing.” Aphelios answered, his eyebrows furrowed and he looked concerned for once. He realised Ace’s request for him to prove his morphing abilities. The man got up and walked a distance away. Continuing to walk until his details were impossible to see. “What is he doin-” James started but he was stopped by a roaring scream of brutal pain. It sounded like a lion and a man roaring from the same voice box. The distant man collapsed but his body morphed and grew into a double of Ganymede. Although, Aphelios was more physically fit than ganymede. Ganymede looked like a long hooded viper while Aphelios was built and horrifying. His scales mimicking the sun and the inard of his cobra-like hood replicating a sunset. “Oh my god..” Astoria said in disbelief. The entire group, except for Minerva, was shocked by the jaw dropping surprise. The man could just become a dragon at any time. This was something from a fairytale.

The beast being Aphelios looked to Ganymede and let out a muttered roar. Ganymede raised his head and grumbled in response. Orion assumed this was the only way they could truly communicate, but Even the dragons’ small talk was a bellowing drum level of loud. Aphelios’ jaw opened in closed, mimicking laughter, but his redder counterpart hissed in response. Which earned an eye roll from Aphelios before he shifted and contorted back into a man.

As he headed back over Orion looked to Minerva. She was mumbling something. “Hey are you alright?” Orion asked softly and looked to try and meet her eyes. She spoke something too quiet to be understood, causing Orion to ‘huh?’ in response. “I SAID SHUT UP! STOP TALKING FOR ONE SECOND!” she shouted at the top of her lungs, forcing every ones eyes on her. What was she talking about? No one other than Orion was speaking. “YES! You are talking! Quite..” Minerva had started in a yell but it depleted to nothing once she noticed Orions lips werent moving. “I- I didn’t say anything. No one is talking.” Orion said, he was terrified. Was she going mad? Had she hit her head in the crash? Or maybe it was the air.

“Wait. orion think about.. Think about something. Anything!” minerva jittered. Orion thought about home. For once he wanted to be back on Earth. “You want to be home. You’ve never felt the need or infatuation with feeling like home was on Earth but now you do.” she spat, then covered her mouth in shock.

Minerva just read his mind.

“I can hear all of your thoughts.” minerva shivered, the words coming out rocky like bumps on a road. The group was about to start contradicting what she was saying but Aphelios joined their pow wow. “Whats all the shouting about? You’ll attract over some sort of beast if you keep that up.” The group looked at Aphelios, then ignored his statement and looked back to minerva. “Theres no way. Just a lucky guess.” Astoria spoke sternly.

“You lost your best friend, Rodney, in combat and you haven't spoken to your other close friend, Arthur in years.” Minerva blurted, then covered her mouth like it would stop any more intruded memories from others from coming out.

Ace looked absolutely frozen. Still in shock. Shocked minerva just dug into her locked away thoughts and shocked that she had just exposed her secrets to the group. Was that why Ace got sent home? Orion became a mix of shock and driven curiosity. What other secrets could minerva dig? But the glare from minerva made orion wish he hadn't just considered using minerva as a weapon.

“Two men who change into dragons, aliens, crashed ship, covered mission and now minerva can read minds?! Is this planet just a big acid trip?!” Chimera squeaked, her tone was aggressive frustration but her higher pitched voice lacked to carry that message. “Minerva how long have you been able to hear our thoughts?” Aphelios sounded suspicious of her. “O-only since the crash. After I woke up I assumed it was just conversations. I-i didn't pay much attention. But then it was non-stop talking and i still just thought it was you guys.” she bit her lip, still hearing their thoughts and their concerns. “Since the crash. Did anything strike you? Bite you? Draw blood?” he interrogated further. “No no I was completely fine.”

“Orion receives electricity from the wires of the console. It didn’t come from the ship. Did it?” Aphelios pressed. The commander felt attacked. Caught in headlights. “What? No!- yes! It was from the-”

“No it wasnt.'' Minerva answered for him. Hearing his thoughts about seeing the electricity come from his fingertips. “Orion when did you notice these electrical abilities?” Aphelios leaned forward, the seriousness painted like a false face over his skin. “Abilities? This is getting ridiculous! I dont have stupid superpowers. Minerva can read minds. That’s it.” Orion got defensive. But he was telling the truth. There was no way he could believe he had superhuman abilities. It was just coincidence that he got shocked by oddly colored electricity that could kill an animal the size of 3 school busses but for some reason didnt cause any pain to him at all.

Aphelios looked to Minerva to read his mind but even she couldnt find an answer.

“We need to get a test of the air here. Now.” aphelios ordered.

#oc #original content #myoc #oc writing #writing #literature

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writeanapocalae · 5 years

Text

Humans Are Good

“Hey Bug,” Harrison sniffed, nose red and starting to drip. She looked like shit, hair plastered to the side of her head, bags under her eyes, stained fingers twitching at her sides. She needed a cigarette and sleep and a shower. “How you feeling?”

Bug cocked its head. Her voice sounded quieter than it was supposed too, more echoing. It rolled its wrist and stretched its arm, watching how the synthmusculature writhed over the new bones. They hadn’t yet put the silicon glove over it, wanting to make sure that it still worked properly first. Stress Tests.

“Performance has not been thoroughly tested yet,” Its voice was echoing to its own audio ports. “Not all processes have been brought to full capacity and there is a glitch interfering with subsections LA-23 through LA-47 as well as RA-19, RA-24, RA26 through RA-28 and RA- 40.”

She rolled her eyes at that, pupils dilating slightly as she joined it in watching how Its new parts fit together. “English please.”

It fought the urge to remind her that it was speaking English, because it knew that she never cared and would argue that it was a figure of speech. “I don’t know about the arm yet, it will have to be tested first. And there’s an issue with my hearing, things have an echo.”

“That’s much more efficient, saying it like that, right?” She gave it a tired grin, leaning against the side of the repair dock. “Why not do that the first time?”

“It is inaccurate,” Bug explained.

A roll of the eyes. Bug had examined many humans in its short functionality time and had yet to see someone roll their eyes as much as Harrison did.

She poked and prodded at the arm and, when Ritter came back to tinker with it a bit more she slid off of his workstation. Bug kept an eye on her. She was only going into the next room, but it still had protocols from its original owner in place and that forced it to keep an eye on her as long as it was functional and not in stasis. She was only getting a cup of the free coffee that Ritter kept for guests, even though she always complained that it tasted like diesel. Bug found no traces of chemicals within the coffee that were not expected and did tell her that Ritter even filtered the water before putting it in the machine.

Ritter asked it questions and smiled and ran a mechanical hand through his thick hair. Ritter was always smiling. Bug thought that was very good. Humans that are smiling are completing their protocols.

There were a few stress tests, mainly Ritter grabbing each of Bug’s fingers and tugging as hard as he could to make sure that nothing came off. He opened the panels for Bug’s audio ports as well and adjusted until the echoing was gone, chatting all the while about some old video game he’d found at a garage sale. Bug liked video games. They allowed humans to fulfill their competitive and violent desires in a way that did not harm others and it helped them smile more. Bug liked listening to Ritter talk about video games, even if it did not understand the stories in them.

Harrison drank her coffee and rolled her eyes, and left to smoke. Ritter was the only person she left Bug alone with. It wondered if that was because he was a mechanic. It wondered if Ritter and Harrison were friends but knew better than to ask.

“She’s been here the whole time, you know,” Ritter explained, placing the audio covers over the ports. “She didn’t sleep the entire time. Was too worried about you.”

Bug didn’t know how to respond to that.

“She’s a good person. She’s rough and brash and hard to be around, I know, but she’s good too.”

“I was missing primary and secondary parts when she found me,” Bug was certain that Ritter knew this but humans have faulty memories and it thought it best to remind him, in solidarity. “She returned me to 73% functionality before introducing us.”

He nodded, “Yeah, she’s smarter than she acts. She’d probably be better than me at this if she put in the effort.”

She was standing in the doorway, her hands shoved into the pockets of her over-sized hoodie. It made her look smaller than she was. “I put in as much effort as I want. Don’t talk about me behind my back.”

Ritter scratched the back of his head. “Sorry, sorry, just good things.

She sneered, “Yeah right. Are we good to go?”

Ritter stepped back, looking Bug over one last time. “Think so. Give it a few days and, if there are any problems let me know. Not all parts are compatible-

“And sometimes it takes a while to get rejected. I know. You tell me this shit, like, every time.” She turned and started to walk towards the door. “C’mon Bug.”

Bug stepped out of the repair dock and followed her, thanking Ritter as it went.

“I like Ritter,” Bug said when they stepped out into the neon city, the pinks and blues dancing in the rain puddles. The rain was coming down in a small drizzle and Harrison zipped up her hoodie as much as she could, so her face was barely visible. “He is nice.”

“He’s an asshole,” she grumbled.

She started to walk through the city, back towards home. The people around them weren’t the safest and Bug took quick glances through their coverings to take stock of weaponry. It was mostly knives and tasers, used for self defense. They weren’t that common though and neither were other robots. They were a bit more modern though, some almost appearing human, and they wore nice clothes and had no missing parts. Bug knew that it stood out and that humans stared at it, but it had functional parts so it didn’t matter that they didn’t match.

No one bothered them. Some people even smiled.

“I like humans,” Bug added, “Humans are nice.”

“No! No they are not!” Harrison’s shoulders were hunched up to her neck and she lit another cigarette, adding yellow to the reflections for just a moment. She kept her head down and did not look at any of the people that they passed. They were all moving faster than Harrison was, ready to get out of the rain and home. It was 8:43pm and the streets would be mostly deserted within a few hours. “How can you even say that after you were dragged behind a motorcycle?”

Bug looked her over. She was defensive in her body language. Her arms were crossed over her chest. Unless she was cold. Her body temperature was slowly decreasing, but she was still within a safe range. “They said it was an accident.”

“Of course they did!” She argued, loud and boisterous, drawing more attention. “The police were there! Humans lie all the time if it means they won’t get in trouble.”

They had seemed earnest, but human emotion was strange and hard for Bug to read a lot of the time. It mostly had to look out for pain and anger, and had learned that smiling was good from experience, but aside from that, emotions were not important to it. It would not recognize a lie. There was another human though, who had been very kind and smiling in a soft way, and touched Harrison a lot to make sure that she did not cry. It did not know what crying was about and it did not know what to do about it. “What about Officer Ford?”

She groaned, rolling her head and exhaling smoke. “Officer Ford? Officer Ford is my dad! He’s got to be nice to me!”

“He didn’t call you by your name.”

“No, he didn’t. He never does.” She sounded angry but Bug could see that there was a small smile on her face, as if she was remembering something. Realizing that this conversation only caused her false distress and nothing to truly worry about, it decided to push.

“I thought it was cute. Angela.”

She turned on him, her almost black brown eyes big and the smile on her face twitching, as if she was trying to control it. Her voice had raised an octave, a laugh sneaking into it. “Don’t you dare. Don’t you fucking dare.”

“Angela is a nice name.”

She did what she did best, she rolled her eyes, spinning back so that she was facing away from it. She groaned in the way that was highly exaggerated. “Ugh you’re insufferable! That’s it, you’re sleeping in the shed tonight.”

“The shed?”

“Did I fucking stutter, tin for brains?”

“But Harrison, it’s raining,” it reminded her.

“I know.”

“And its cold.” It didn’t feel cold, it didn’t care about cold, but it liked the idea of making Harrison smile and it could not complete its protocols as easily if it were in the shed.

She groaned, louder. “I know.”

“And I will be lonely.”

“Oh my god, FINE!”

#my writing #bug #harrison #ritter #scifi writing

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donutpwns · 6 years

Text

Little Brother Blues - Part 5

Part 4 - Part 6

His vision blurs again as he stares at the page in front of him and it takes him a moment to realize it's not just another part of the thing that just makes no sense to him. With a groan, he rubs at his eyes under the pair of glasses he'd finally given into wearing and blinked until the words became somewhat readable. He turns to the notebook where he had started keeping his makeshift cipher to help him translate, finger trailing over the symbols to find the match. Square with a squiggle, no not that one, the other square with a squiggle. Ugh.

Why couldn't Ford have written the damn thing in English? Or Spanish, Stan could read that as well as English. Hell, he'd have settled for Russian, he could at least stumble his way through that somewhat passably thanks to Yuri. But this weird alien, made up language? It's taken the better part of the last five years to get just a mostly helpful cipher figured out. There were usually some things that were wrong but Stan could usually figure it out. Mostly. Passably.

He chances a look at his watch and can't suppress another groan at the time it shows. Four hours until opening, five if Stan wanted to say screw it to the old people that came first thing. But they were the ones quickest to buy souvenirs for grandkids that didn't give a shit. Extra sleep versus money. As if that was really a choice at this point in his life. He could only steal so many parts and it wasn’t like he could steal Ford’s mortgage payments. Then again, maybe if he broke into the bank he could…no, too much attention.

He's so tired. Seasonal rush of tourists have been running him ragged; he really needed to get a way to run the forest tours while not on his feet. And then the portal had been keeping him up later and later. He'd hoped once he'd gotten the panels to work again he could flip the switch but the power wasn't communicating somewhere; he was lucky to get the portal to spark. He'd blown out the power three times in as many weeks trying to figure out where the disconnect was. Maybe it was time to steal a few more books on electrical engineering and skim them until they made sense? He needs to find a new supply of copper wiring too. Maybe the streetlights downtown had been repaired so he could steal them again.

A yawn effectively shuts down his thought process, brain function shutting down and rebooting. Holy Moses he is tired.

He gives a regretful look back to the portal that looms in the other room. He needs to get some sleep if he's going to be able to work. When he glances back at the book, the words start to blur again, ink running together when his eyes move over the page; he has a feeling that he's not gonna get much more work done tonight anyway. He looks back up at the portal again and for a second swears he sees it glowing again with an old silhouette in it. Sleep deprivation and guilt were never friends to him though they had always found kin in each other.

“Tomorrow, Sixer. I promise. I can feel it, I'm almost there.” He repeats the same line he's said almost every night for the last five years, puts the same confidence into his grin that he does when he tells the cops he had nothing to do with whatever they're asking. He closes the Journal, placing his hand over the one on the cover to see the extra finger stick out of an otherwise perfect match. “High six.” He mutters under his breath, trying to will himself to find comfort in the gesture. It never works but maybe someday it will.

Tomorrow he'll get it. It'll be fixed and Ford will be back and Stan can apologize properly. Tomorrow. Everything will make sense again after he gets some sleep.

“YOU REALLY BELIEVE THAT, HUH?”

Tap tap tap

Stan jolts awake, hands slapping down on the middle console and the door as he searches around. Mabel's face is pressed against the driver side window that's slightly cracked due to the heat. Right. He was picking the kids up from the lake. Stan shakes his head to get the remnants of the dream out of his mind and to get his brain back into the present before rolls the window down the rest of the way. She's got the boys behind her; all of them are red everywhere their skin shows. Probably should've given them sunscreen. Oh well.

He gives Dipper’s sun-reddened cheek a pinch when the boy steps up to the driver side door just to laugh when the boy swats him away. It brings a rush of fond memories to the surface; he almost swears he can smell salt mixed with the telltale scent of sun touched skin. “You kids are going to be peeling like little monsters in a few days.” he feels the need to point out as the three of them climb into the backseat.

Mabel’s amazed sounding “Cool!” mixes with Dipper’s disgusted groan and Stan shares a laugh with the girl. He can see Ford slumping against the door, a tired look on his face. Apparently Stan wasn't the only one that had needed a nap.

“Too much excitement for you, huh, Sixer?” he teases naturally though the bags under his brother’s eyes are a little concerning. Did he have those this morning? Stan can’t remember; he had been too focused on what he was going to say to McGucket to pay much attention to the kids.

This reminds him of what he’s learned. It eats time. The thing eats time. How the hell were they supposed to fix that? Stan didn't doubt that they could, he'd pulled Ford from another dimension for heaven's sake; there wasn’t much he couldn’t believe they could get done. But the how was a little mind boggling. Maybe the kids would have some ideas once they could sit down and think everything through together. They were both smarter than Stan, could probably see something he couldn't.

He'd never admit it to anyone, but he wishes he could talk to the older version of Ford about this. Heck, if the positions were reversed, Ford probably would've had a fix before nightfall on the first day. If he'd cared enough to do so. Probably would've done it just to prove he could. Been all smug about it and the kids would've thought he was so cool. Jackass.

The thoughts threaten to spiral him into a bad mood but he tries to shove it down. His issues with his brother are well documented at this point but they're a problem for another day. Stan's a big fan of why do today when it can be done tomorrow, or better yet when you can con someone else into doing it for you? Now, wouldn’t that be the greatest con, getting someone else to deal with his emotional baggage for him. Heh.

"We saw a chaimera, Grunkle Stan!” Mabel yells, hanging halfway over the passenger seat. She flails her arms as they pull out of the parking area to start the journey back to the Shack. “It was super cute! But then its mama came and we had to punch it!”

Stan laughs at that, “What did I tell you kids? Few things in this world can’t be solved with a good punch.” he angles the mirror so he can see them all and feels his good mood dip when he spots Ford asleep against the door. Running around for a few hours in the sun shouldn’t have him so tired. Hell, the past few days have just reminded him why their father had such a strict bedtime for them as kids. “What’s up with him?”

Mabel settles back into the seat and reaches under the passenger seat to grab her scrapbook she had apparently stashed there. Stan really needs to teach her how to pickpocket; girl was shockingly sneaky for a bundle of loud sparkles. “He fell asleep on the boat on the way back.”

Dipper nods. “I think his head hurts. He's been wincing and rubbing his temples when he thinks we're not looking.”

“Just like you do!” Mabel grins and moves her hand in a waving motion with her fingers spread. “Twins!” she began scribbling on a page of her scrapbook. “He punched a snake though so I think he's okay.”

Stan’s thoughts split into two directions at that. First that a snake was much less impressive than a dinosaur as far as punching reptiles was concerned. Second is worry because maybe he shouldn't be letting the kids go off on adventures that might be dangerous. He knows that they can handle themselves, of course, they're all very tough and smart, but he feels a resurgence of that old fear bubbling up inside him. The fear that kept him lying for the last thirty years but especially this summer. The fear that had him checking on the kids randomly at night sometimes to just ease his nerves that they were still there. The fear that had him angling the mirror to see Ford again, frowning at the wrinkle in his brow as his mini twin slept.

Ford is still asleep by the time they arrive back at the Shack as the sun is setting and barely makes a fuss when Stan picks him out of the seat. The kids run into the house ahead of them while Stan puts him in his room. While he’s there, maybe he checks his brother over for snake bites. And maybe after he’s relieved to see that his brother was bite free, he takes the time to take off his brother’s shoes and cover him with a blanket. Ford’s sleeping so he can never tell anyone and Stan will never admit to it.

The air in the hall is filled with the delicious scent of chocolate that Stan is more than happy to follow. It leads him to the kitchen. He can’t help a smile at the sight of Mabel standing on a chair in front of the stove, stirring a pot with an overly large spoon. Dipper is putting four coffee mugs of the table that already has the last bag of marshmallows in that Mabel hasn’t devoured yet on it. This is exactly what he had in mind when he said the kids were smarter than him.

Stan grabs one of the small jars of glitter from the cabinet and sets it next to the mug with the pink, glittery M painted on it. “Scooch over, sweetheart.” he bumps Mabel with his hip and takes the spoon from her. “Kid, drop a handful of those in my cup before your sister eats all of them.” he calls to Dipper, pointing to the bag.

“Ha, like that would stop me.” Mabel laughs as she jumps down from the chair and hurries over to the table.

The table is spattered with drops and drips of spilled chocolate by the time all their three cups have been filled, thanks mostly to Stan not having the best of aim. Oh well, he’d just ask Soos to clean the kitchen tomorrow; boy was always happy to do whatever Stan asked of him. Stan’s happy to see he got a good helping of the marshmallows before Mabel had attacked the bag. Her cup is to the brim of overflowing, though Dipper’s not much better, just less glitter. If there’s anything their family shared, it was a sweet tooth. That and horrifically bad vision, as the kids were no doubt going to learn in a few years.

Stan takes a long drink, savoring the thick, sweet taste. It was nice to just sit with the kids, a taste of normal in the mess that their lives had been. Man, maybe they should have a movie night soon. Some bad horror movies at 3 am sounded like a great idea. Ford liked even the bad movies; it was funny to see how amazed his brother was over even the worst effects. Sometimes Stan forgot how much things had changed since he was a kid.

“So I think we need to look through Journal 2 again and do a sweep of the forest, see if we can’t find the thing that bit Great Uncle Ford.” Dipper suggests after a few minutes. He shifts in his seat so he can, apparently, pull a map out of his pocket and unfold it on the table. He’s got various sections marked with red marker. “If we can’t find out what it was, maybe we can just find it again and capture it.”

Stan sighs and moves to pull out the page that McGucket had printed out for him. Well, the normalcy was nice while it lasted. Back to his full time job of trying to save Ford. “This is what it is. It eats time.”

Dipper snatches it instantly and maybe Stan has a little bit of pride in the way the boy lights up when it comes to learning something. He’s never really understood the appeal of studying or learning a bunch of stuff you were probably never going to use, but it was nice to see how happy it made people like Dipper or Soos. Then again, maybe if he’d actually paid attention in school it wouldn’t have taken him thirty years to fix the Portal.

Dipper’s nose wrinkles as he reads over the page. “It eats time?” there’s a pen in his hand though where it came from Stan has no idea. “Something in its venom…”

“Like a snake?” Mabel suggests while she shakes a good helping of glitter over her cup and stirring it with a spoon. “Don’t they make, like, anti-venom? Or maybe Blenjamin can help. We could, like, challenge him to deadly laser tag again. Get another time wish!” she mimes firing a gun, complete with laser sound effects. “Glarg-far or whatever! If it can do infinite pizza, it could probably do, like, re-old man-ening.”

“I feel like that would be a grievous abuse of our truce with him.” Dipper frowns.

Stan shrugs, “I’m always for grievously abusing something for personal gain. I ever tell you guys about the old lady that helped me smuggle rare kittens with a hyper cuteness gene? Convinced her we were legally getting them to a cat charity. Pretty solid scam for like six months until the cops raided her garage.” he lets out a fond sigh. He’d made a lot of money off that. But cat scams were always high risk; so many scratches. Now it was all about puppies.

Dipper rolls his eyes but Stan can see the smile on his face. “Still. I think Mabel might have a good idea with the anti-venom.”

“All my ideas are good!” she says with glitter smeared across both cheeks.

“Right. Sure.” another eye roll. “But yeah. Maybe if we catch the thing we could like...study it’s venom? See if there’s an antidote. Maybe Ford could help him.”

Mabel reaches over to pull the bag of marshmallows closer to herself. “Wouldn’t that mean letting him in one of the labs? I thought we were, you know, not letting him see that stuff cause of all the questions. You know with the whole being a crazy scientist and the stuff with the portal and how him and Stan are idiots.”

Stan lets out a mildly offended grunt but doesn’t really argue. At least she’s also calling Ford stupid.

“Maybe we should tell him about...what happened?” Dipper winces as he says it, plunking an extra marshmallow into his cup and giving it a stir. “I mean, keeping secrets doesn’t really seem to help us accomplish much. And it’s getting really hard to keep coming up with reasons why he can’t look at certain parts of the Journals. If he can go to the lab with me, maybe we could figure something out?”

Stan glares into his cup, poking a floating marshmallow down into the cocoa until the burning liquid stings his skin. “Listen, I’m not exactly his biggest fan, but the kid doesn’t deserve to know about what a mess our future is.” Stan doesn’t want to have that conversation, not again. And maybe he doesn’t want to lose Ford again any sooner than he has to.

“But maybe Ford will remember all this when he’s grown again and he won’t be as mad.” Mabel pipes up, cheerful as ever with a thick, glittery chocolate mustache. She grabs another handful of marshmallows from the bag and shoves them into her mouth. “An’ den you cah hug eh oht!” her cheeks puff out like a squirrel.

Stan shakes his head, “Pumpkin, there’s a bigger chance of me giving all my money to a ‘charitable cause’” he does the air quotations for emphasis, “than of Ford and me making up. I tried for thirty years to make things up to him; a week as a runt isn’t going to change that. Once he’s back to normal, he’ll remember how much he hates me and things will be status quo again.”

There’s the sound of rubber squeaking on the hardwood floor and then a second later, the back door is slamming in the doorframe. Stan is on his feet in a heartbeat and at the window with enough time to see Ford running towards the woods. He swears under his breath and chases after his brother. He nearly stumbles down the stairs that lead down from the back porch. “Stanford! Get back here!” he yells after him, grabbing the broken railing to catch himself. His chest constricts when Ford turns to glare at him; why could he still see so much of his adult face in that expression, even with all the baby fat? Stan tries to shove that down, crush it down to fuel for his grin. “Come on, Sixer, come back inside.”

“I heard what you were saying, Stanley!” Ford jabs a finger in the direction of the house. There’s a shake to his whole body as he steps back, moving into the darkness of the yard. “You said I hate you!”

Stan takes a step forward, moving slow like he would if it was an injured animal and not his own brother. “You just heard the wrong part. C’mon, get back inside.”

Ford shakes his head. “No, he said we...he said I didn’t--” he stamps his foot before meeting Stan’s eyes again. Stan is caught off guard by the heat in his stare. “What happened to the Stan o War? Why don’t we have it? Why aren’t we sailing, Stanley? Tell me!”

Frustration is building inside of him; this isn’t the time for this. “It--that’s complicated, Stanford. Trust me, it doesn’t matter, just--”

“It matters to me!” he slaps a hand to his chest, voice raising, taking another step back. “I want to know! I deserve to know! It was our dream and you won’t tell me what happened to it! You all keep lying to me! It’s not fair! What happened?!”

Stan can feel his eye twitching and a throbbing starting in his temple. “Ford, this isn’t the time to talk about this. Come back inside and we’ll--”

“Why? Why is this not the time?!” Ford’s voice raises to a full blown yell, his fists at his sides. “Tell me why you won’t tell me!”

“Because I said so and I'm the adult, Stanford!” he starts marching towards him, longer strides getting him closer faster than Ford can stumble backwards. “Now stop being childish and get back inside!”

“Just because you look like Dad doesn't mean you have to act like him!” the words are a slap; Ford instantly covers his mouth with both hands like he had just swore as Stan freezes in his place. “I--I didn’t mean that. I mean, I just...I deserve to know. I just want to know why.”

A bitter bark of a laugh escapes Stan before he can even process it. The words echo in his head, catching on the walls to ignite a spark that lights the fuel he’d shoved down. “You want to know what happened?” he sweeps his hands out in front of him, gesturing to the space that was still between them. “I cut the rope and let it drift out to sea!”

Ford had destroyed their dream when he’d replaced it with one that was entirely his own, but Stan had physically destroyed it. That was what he was good at. He’d driven to the beach and cut the rope with the salt air stinging his eyes because like hell would he let Ford have it. Ford hadn’t wanted their stupid childish dream, hadn’t wanted Stan, so he wasn’t going to get the satisfaction of being the one to bid the boat a goodbye. He’d have burned it if he’d had the gas and matches.

Ford’s arms go slack at his sides, all the anger and indignation melting away into a stunned expression. “You...you cut the rope?” his voice shakes with the kind of emotion only a kid can show; like a nerve rubbed raw and left exposed to the world. “Why? Why would you do that?!” his voice catches on a hitched breath. “Why?”

The fire begins to die as quick as it flared, leaving Stan with the old feeling of being empty and cold. “Because things don’t work out, Sixer. It’s…” he runs a hand through his hair and looks away. “Because it’s not us against the world. Because life isn’t what we planned it to be. It’s not what either of us wanted, but it’s the way life is.”

“You said I hated you.” Ford shakes his head and when Stan looks at him again, he can see the wet streaks catching the light on his cheeks. “Do you hate me?”

“What? God, Ford, no.” he moves in front of his brother, dropping to one knee to grab his shoulders. “Sixer, I could never hate you.” Not this Ford, and not the older one either, really. Everything he’s ever done has been for their family. So much work, so many sleepless nights and fighting to get Ford back. It didn’t go the way he wanted, no part of Stan’s life did but especially where his brother was concerned. But he didn’t hate him. Could never hate him. And as pathetic as it was, Stan knows that if Ford were to ask for his help again, just like thirty years ago, Stan would come running. “Never.”

Ford drops his chin to his chest and his shoulders are shaking under Stan’s hands. “But I can hate you. That’s who I become. He was right.”

Pines men don't cry. He hears the words of their father in his head but he still has enough shame from Ford's comparison to keep them from falling from his tongue. He doesn't want to be that man; he is okay being lots of different people, many of them ones he could never be proud of, but not him. He never wants to be him. Instead, Stan gives his shoulders a squeeze, feeling uneasy with the use of the pronoun game. “Who was right, Ford?” he gives him a little shake in hopes of getting his brother to look at him. “Sixer, who have you been talking to?”

“I’m going to fix this. I’m not going to let myself be that. I'm not going to let me ruin everything.” Ford looks up with a determined look on his face. Stan nearly falls back when he lunges forward, his arms wrapped tight around Stan’s neck for a moment. “I'm going to make it alright again, Lee. I promise.” Before Stan has a chance to react, though, he’s pulling back and taking off towards the woods again.

“Sixer! Wait!” Stan tries to snatch him but he’s too quick. “Stanford! Stanford come back!” by the time he’s back on his feet, Ford has broken through the treeline. In the dark, there’s no sight of him once Stan reaches the trees. He cups his hands around his mouth. “Stanford! Stanford!”

His voice echoes through the trees but the only response he gets is the sounds of animals scattering. For the fourth time in his life, his brother has disappeared.

#little brother blues #gravity falls #stan pines #stanford pines #dipper pines #mabel pines #kainichivonwrites

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metal-maiden-1923 · 6 years

Text

Somewhere in the portal.

Chapter 1.Z4500. Despair/Sounds of the violin

Measurement Of The Z4500.

Over the dark forest and the clouds gathered. A strong wind blew, flocks of black ugly birds, unknown to any mortal, flew into the sky. A bright light shone on the black edge. After that, a huge circle appeared, in the middle of which the flow of higher energy raged. Portal.

The portal shone even brighter, a man in a purple hoodie fell out of it. The portal closed, and the man remained lying on the ground. It seemed that he was asleep or dead, but then he stirred and with a groan got up from the ground. He pulled back his hood and looked up at the sky. The man who fell out of the portal was a beautiful black-haired woman. No one has ever seen such strange hair-from the top of the strands were cast in gray, but gradually gray hair turned into black, creating a light amber, bangs strands were taken by the ears. On sunken cheeks flaunted small wounds, protracted a few days ago. However, this, unlike other women, didn't spoil it. Stranger's clothes it was also unusual: the above mentioned purple dress-hoodie with a hood and long sleeves, dark purple belt-corset fitted her slender, semi — small figure, gold belt decoration looked harmoniously at her waist. An old duffel bag was thrown over his shoulder, darned several times with black dense threads. On his hands were black thick gloves. The woman took them off, opening her miniature hands. His hands were completely different. The left was of the most ordinary hand, which just happens to be the average person. If you slightly pick up the long sleeve, you can see that the forearm was bandaged. Sometimes you could feel a little pain under the bandages, but it passed as quickly as it appeared.

The right hand is an iron prosthesis of the hand with a blue crystal on the heel. The veins of the forearm, on which the prosthesis was attached, gleamed with silvery-metal light, as if something iron was implanted under the pale skin and forced to feel the constant cold.

The woman looked up at the sky. The clouds thickened even more, and face was filled with a sharp chill. It was about to rain, but not a drop fell from the sky; the air was full of tension, it was stifling.

What a dimension. Not a single ray of sunshine. Even, profoundly sad as something. She rubbed the crystal, whispered something, and said:

Harry, come. We've already moved.

The crystal lit up in orange light, and there appeared before her a guy with red messy hair. Dressed he was, as real modern gentleman, but under this, he, too, was very strange and unusual — shone dull-orange light. His feet didn't touch the ground, he was literally floating in the air. He swam closer to her and asked.:

Are you bored?

What?

Wander through the dimensions, to achieve an unrealistic goal. Admit it, Leya, she's not in any of the dimensions we've been to. It cannot be. You're beating around the Bush. We never will. Suck it up. These words greatly angered the iron-armed woman. She turned to the demon. Dark brown eyes women angrily looked at Harry, she was like a fierce tiger, ready to strike.

You're just a coward. Then why did you come with me almost thirty years ago? You had a chance to free yourself and get a body, but you didn't. You should have come with me and whine about every dimension we've been in. And, in fact, you got me there and took the time to protect. You just hid in the crystal or disappeared to God knows where.

If you hadn't dragged me to the most dangerous dimensions, I wouldn't be whining. We almost got whacked out there, and in the Entertainment Dimension, you almost got to live forever just because you won all the time. Scarlett wouldn't approve of your behavior, and neither would I.

Leya suddenly frowned and turned away from the demon. He noticed her trembling slightly, as if frozen. But actually the woman was crying. Tears flowed down her sunken cheeks, and her thin lips trembled.

Scarlett ... Oh ... she's not here, Harry. She's nowhere. No ... no.

Harry looked on the lady of the. He became very ashamed of the words. Strong, too, crying, and Leia was not the exception. Sisterly love not faded in it all these thirty years. That's what became the beacon, the guide to the goal. She didn't remember, where did her sister, did not remember what happened to the disappearance of Scarlett. Could only blame on the correlation of the twins that bound them together.

Leya, I'm sorry. I didn't think I was saying. I just want to go home to our mansion and have a normal life.

Our life will never be the same again, - Leya said, - I don't know when the next portal will appear. Postulator broken, it will not be able to tell us a new hole in the space — Leia pulled from a bag a small device similar to a warped disk, is divided into two parts, connected by a smaller disk, which was adorned with a crack, tearing the Golden mark of an hourglass. Leia touched the label in front of it from the disc popped up a dull-blue cover. Not only had the panel open, it immediately began to cross the line noise and ripple. The panel rippled, changed its color and eventually went out. The woman put postulator in the bag and looked at Harry.

You see, - said Leia, - so I figure we get out of here, - she stood up and, clasping his hands behind his back, began to walk from side to side, something muttering to himself. Thoughts did not want to visit the woman, as if that weren't focused and didn't try to think. She understood that her situation is simple, but the thoughts how to find of her conclusion did not come to mind. — Something to do — muttering Leah, - something must be done, only that suddenly, - the woman stopped. — Well. Panic is not the answer.

She touched a live hand to crystal and whispered some kind of spell. The crystal lit up with blue light and released from the middle of the beam, which began to expand. The hologram is slightly vibrated, and show formulas, calculations and drawing Postulator.

Okay, we have a damaged main drive. I don't have any more of those. The alloy of Nickel and iron is not so strong, and the contacts that I managed to change last summer, again closed. Nickel wire didn't fit, apparently. The serial mechanism is damaged, some gears fell out. Yes, they almost did not get it, — Leia ran a finger over the pad, and slightly touching it. Harry blankly stared at her. He did not understand her scientific speech, her thoughts, her calculations. A lot of things Harry didn't understand her mistress. Her passion for science, weapons, and projecting a little scared of the demon. He believed that the obsession with science for women is an abnormal phenomenon. In his opinion, the woman had to stay at home, prepare and raise children. An adherent of traditional values, Harry, did not agree with the point of view of Leah, but the challenge could not have her: he was afraid. Leia was one of those women who can do anything if they don't stick to tradition. Strength of character and mind was

Iron-handed’s wooman the most important in feminine essence. But some feminist tendencies of the Leya was torn away. Because she realized that it is not always necessary to be a "man in a woman's shell", because it can disfigure the soul, what she was afraid of. Harry fluttered and landed next to Leia. He looked at the hologram and yawned bored. — In short, Letely, we can't get out. And if we don't get out,… — Harry, shut up, - interrupted Leya, you're confusing me. We don't have a Khan if we fix the portal. And to fix it, we need spare parts — hologram disappeared, the crystal stopped glowing.

Where do we get the parts? Is that it? - Harry crossed his arms.

Your sarcasm makes me laugh, my dear demon. We will go to town, - said Leya, putting the duffel bag on his shoulder, — a local for sure we have something to help. Just, please be careful, Harry joined hands and made a touching grimace.

All right, - snapped Leya. She rubbed the crystal, Harry turned into a little ray of light that was absorbed in the crystal. — Harry, show map, — Leia held the crystal with his forefinger. The crystal lit up with a blue glow, and there was a panel with a map of the area. The red dot that flashed on the panel in the forest area indicated the current location of the woman. Leia made a few steps, point, too, moved. The realization that you have to go another hard way — the most interesting of all the realizations. Knowing where you're going, you're ready for all the surprises that fate will prepare you for. If the monster blocked the way you shoot from the machine, if the traveler with a grain of salt, look at him, and then ask the road. Leia for thirty years followed this rule, which many times saved her life from deadly situations. Attitude to everything that is happening with distrust made the woman more calculating and critical in all respects. In addition to goal to find her sister, she had no purpose other than this and all. As a fan of the business, Leia continued to move forward, as in the proverb: "Step forward, any number of steps back, and then two and a half forward for an unknown reason." So Leia was walking towards the city.…

He ran, trying to escape from two brutish monsters, armed with huge bludgeons. Gray bangs out of her eyes, was dressed the man in black, ragged black cloak developed when running, like a flag in the wind, hairline crack held crack, and the arms were covered with intergalactic glue. In the hands of a man kept bulky Blaster - "Quantum destabilizer", which glowed neon glow.

Stop! - screaming monsters, continuing the chase. — How did you get said Ford, recharge destabilizator. He pointed his weapon at the monster in front and fired. The energy ball fell into the animal. The monster let out an angry roar and fell to the ground. The second monster he stopped near the other.

Get up, you jerk, - he growled, but the monster didn't move.

Fuck you, damn foreigner! You meet me, I'll break all your bones, you flesh and blood bastard! The monster lifted the corpse of the other and plodded on down the alley.

Ford looked at the departing monsters from the dark alley. Making sure that they disappeared, the scientist sat down on one of the boxes of garbage.

What a dimension. You can't even ask for directions. No, it is necessary to chase the poor tourist, although missing dunno where, but it is indecent.

The scientist took out from his bosom a small book in a red, well-worn cover with Golden corners and a six-fingered palm with the number "4" on it. Ford opened the book, which is already pre-lay handle. The man began to write the following:

At first, I liked this dimension for its pleasant architecture, which attracted my logical thinking and analytical understanding, but a different impression of the dimension I left the creatures living in it. Very aggressive and unfriendly. How are they, I wonder, to live with his mate? How do they communicate with each other? Of course I won't find out. He came up to ask the way-almost lost his life. I expected better from this dimension.

Then his thoughts were interrupted by the melodious sound of the violin, which literally calmed him down and forced him to listen to it again and again.

Ford's wary. He hid the Diary in his cloak, got up from the box and prepared to attack. Ford moved slowly out of the gate. As soon as he came out, the sound became clearly audible.

Yeah, the violin in the main square, - he said, removing the destabilizer. The same slow steps he walked to the main square. A huge street, paved with transparent gray marble, glittered from the rare rays of the dim sun. A huge column with a high spire in the middle of the square stretched upwards, as if it pierced a solar disk. This dull gray atmosphere was embellished by the cheerful sounds of the violin.

Ford looked closely and saw a woman playing the violin, and very unusual. The iron-armed beauty with sunken cheeks actively drove the bow along the strings, extracting the most beautiful melody. A lot of people gathered around her. Everyone applauded her and threw coins into the violin case.

Ford was fascinated by the music. He realized that he was afraid of nothing. He slowly walked towards the crowd. But no one wanted to give way to him. Apparently, he will have to enjoy the music last.

#gravity falls #fanfiction #stanford pines #portal #leya #letely

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fordanoia · 6 years

Text

Gotham Falls [2/??]

My crossover fic between Gravity Falls and Batman: The Animated Series. || Fic Tag || On AO3 / Fanfic ||

Ch 2: (Not Quite) According To Plan || Words: 5,900~ || CW: mild swearing

Ford sluggishly made rounds through his house, repeatedly glancing out windows and checking outside the front door. He’d cautiously listen from beside the door then open it and look outside before closing it with all the locks latched. It was something to do and the blast of cold air kept him awake.

He'd already checked the bunker today, but all the supplies had been long since stored and organized. Although worrisome, he made a point each time to count the filled barrels off in the distance. He had rolled them far off and wrapped them in barb wire to keep the fuel as far away as possible without losing sight of them. It’d be easier to just dump them, but he couldn’t do that without hazardous effects from the radiation. There was only a few of them left now, forebodingly resting in the snow.

The rest had been emptied without his memory on the ‘trip’ days ago, similar to the times he found yet more new eerie notes written in his journal. However, the instance when he had found the door to downstairs wide open and the fuel gauge no longer empty a sharp panic had struck him square in the chest. Just another hour asleep and the machine would have been fueled and only a few switch flips and a lever pull away from disaster. That was when he had made it a point to find industrial strength coffee. His usual supply evidently hadn't been doing enough. Since the event at the diner though he hadn't been able to get it anymore. No way he was going back inside that building again. He could feel his body struggle to stay awake with the cut back on caffeine though, now more so than usual. Ford went back into the dining room and towards the table, heavily dropping into a chair beside it. Something… He needed to do… something…

He didn't know how much time had passed with him absently staring into the calming grain of the wood paneling, but eventually there was a knock on the door jerking him up in his seat. He hadn't even heard someone walk up to the door. Maybe the snowfall had muffled the sound of footsteps. He needed to be careful though, no telling who it would be. Quietly, he hurried towards the front door. He grabbed the crossbow by the door before pulling back the greased locks that slid open without a sound. He curled one hand around the door knob, figuring out how to efficiently switch his hand from the door to the crossbow without compromising himself when an electrifying thought sparked in the air. What if it's Stan?

He could already feel a fresh hope at the idea, but kept it in check. Even still, he opened the door a bit eagerly with the possibility at the front of his mind. It was only one possibility, though, and an unlikely one at that. He poked his head around the door, securely holding onto it with a hand. “Who is it?” He asked roughly, prepared to bring out the crossbow. There was no need though. It was him. It was actually him!

“Stanley!” He opened the door further and set the crossbow down against the interior wall of the house. He was immediately overcome with relief. He was practically home bound now, all he had to do was get Stanley to take the journal and well- the rest he'd figure out. He wasn't going to let this moment get squashed down dwelling on everything else. Very little had turned out well since all of this had started. He was going to cling onto his renewed hope and focus on this moment for as long as it lasted.

Stan smiled, easygoing and confident like he used to remember, back when they were teenagers. Stan smiling as he'd assure him to ignore Crampelter. ‘Jerk couldn't tell the difference between a screwdriver and a pen so don’t bother listenin’ to him, Sixer.’

Ford allowed himself a slight smile, ignoring the slight edge of bitterness that came with nearly any memory of his twin. After what the other did... but he pushed it aside. He could let himself have this small comfort, just for now. When was the last time he had had positive human interaction, after all. Enjoy the moment and proceed handing over the journal so he could work on what he needed to afterwards.

He fully opened the door to Stan and he didn’t know what exactly he was expecting, but Stan smiled wider and took a step forward. A warning alarm was blearily going off in the back of his head, as if he was under water. Utter nonsensical nerves that-

Suddenly, Stan grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him off balance. Grinning, as Ford lost his footing, the tips of his boots scuffling on the ground behind him as Stan held him up in the air. Not high enough where he could get his feet underneath him, but not so low as for him to be completely on his knees where he'd be able to get up. He was forced to look up at the face merely a foot above his own, his own arms splayed out uselessly at his sides. The grin was still there, oh yes, and now he could see it. The slit eyed pupils bearing down on him with malicious excitement.

“Hey, Sixer!”

“Bill!” Ford gasped, blaming the strangled surprise in his voice on the hand choking him by his shirt.

He remained in the unstable position held aloft in the air, helpless to really get himself free. Too frightened to even think of how to go about it, and how could he with all these alarms. Muddled thoughts now uselessly running around his mind. All of these alarms nagging at him. Alarms that were too busy screaming at him in urgency through the thick water for him to actually know what they warned of. Bill, he was sure. He should have seen this coming, he should have been prepared. He hadn’t been careful enough.

“Oh, come on, Fordsy,” the fake Stan said with a roll of his not his not his not his eyes, not quite in sync, “you didn't honestly think calling your dear old brother who hates your guts was going to actually work in your favor, did you? ”

Ford struggled uselessly in the grasp, panic making it impossible for him to move his feet in any coordinated fashion that would actually get his balance back under his own control again.

Last hope. That's what this had been. His last hope, the only thing he had had left and of course it failed him. He was somehow worse off than before, and out of any options now. Out of options and time and reality was blending together at the corners of his vision. His hands pricked painfully, needles in the palms of his hand.

“You're not activating the portal!” Ford spat at him fiercely, voice full and hearty even as he was being choked. Another alarm. Why were there so many alarms, why. Why were so many of them muffled? Bill was here and Stan was decisively not. He was easily overpowered, and Bill had every advantage over him. What else was even left over to worry about outside of this?

“Oh, yeah, smart guy? You gonna stop me?” Bill taunted, laughing in his usual high pitched voice.

Even his feeling of helplessness was starting to get distracted by all the muted warnings from his mind. “You have to do more than just push a button, Bill!” He fired back, determined. Even if the other was undoubtedly stronger, he was still going to fight him every inch of the way. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he gave up, even now. Ultimately, he knew that he could be tied up or otherwise effortlessly dealt out of the way, but...

St- Bill seemed to smile just a bit more and it twisted his stomach to see the knowing tilt of that grin. He finally looked away from him, the imagery itself already was close to paralyzing, making his blood run cold. Of course, though, he was outside in the… and… wait, no. No, it wasn't cold. Why wasn't it cold?!

Ford scrambled back from the other, roughly pushing against his chest and ripping himself out of Bill’s grasp. He threw himself back onto the floor, wide-eyed. A vulnerable position, yes, but no longer important. His mind was now barraging him with a whole stream of inconsistencies, ones he instantly chastised himself for not catching as they were happening. Bill’s voice remaining the same even in Stan’s body. His blurry mind with so many warnings purposefully smudged out and turned unintelligible. The bone deep exhaustion he had had for weeks straight, now missing.

“Figured it out finally, huh?” Bill teased, standing over him, still in that body. “It's funny how much you've got riding on this. Pathetic, really! He's not coming to help you. Even if he DOES show up it'll just be to see how far you fell without him and laugh.”

Ford wanted to argue back, say Stanley was coming to help with unwavering certainty.

He couldn't do that.

Bill was right.

He was holding onto a thinly worn shred of hope that Stanley would come, but that's all it was. He didn't have any viable reasoning to assure himself Stan would actually show. When ever he actually thought about it it became more and more apparent that he wouldn’t come. That he had just said he'd come over to get back at Ford for letting him get kicked out years ago. For expecting help when he wouldn't have anything to do with him for over a decade. Empty thoughts pulled vacantly on his mind though, urging him again with soundless voices. Wordless warnings which he could now recognize as calls to wake up.

He closed his eyes and focused, trying to bring solid sensations back in and pull himself out of the floating blur of sleep. There was that pain in his hands again as well as the ache in his body slowly returning and he latched onto the feelings, dredging himself awake again, and opened his eyes. He was warm and Ford winced as he flexed his hands, it helped jar him further awake though. He looked down to see his palms covered in bleeding red marks, small holes covering it. Nothing on the back of his hands though. He then realized rather gratefully that he was still in the middle of his house. Unlike the cool damp air of the basement, it was warm and… and there was an icy breeze. He turned slowly, following the draft to find the front door thrown carelessly open, snowflakes flying in and melting as they hit the floor of the house. He walked towards the door, but paused before the threshold to listen for anybody or anything. Considering what had just happened though he actually felt a slight comfort in that whatever Bill had tried there was nothing to do about it now and thus no lingering danger. He probably expected him to stay asleep for longer. Or maybe it was just a nightmare. There had been times like that before, where he had woken up and Bill had ultimately did nothing. Just a nightmare and his body had been left alone. Or so he thought. The times he had woken up seemingly in the same place, he'd originally thought just that. Then he started to find those notes... it made him doubt every instance that seemed like just an innocuous visit in the mindscape. He hoped that was the case though. However, he couldn't quite identify the puncture marks in his hand. They seemed like they had been made with small needles, but the uncertainty was unnerving him.

He decided to give the inside of his house a look over first to assure everything was secure. As he went to shut the door a looming dark shape caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. He stopped, not having even grabbed the door handle yet. Sitting innocently on the porch were the three metal barrels, barb wire still coiled around them and bright red tips standing out on a few of the sharp spikes. He swallowed unevenly. Close. That was close. They weren’t inside the house though. He walked out, pushing the door open further with his hand, immediately regretting doing so. He'd have to disinfect and bandage the wounds as soon as he put the barrels back out. He carefully grabbed the lid of the first barrel to pull it onto its side. Rolling them through the snow would take less energy than carrying them. He hooked his fingertips over the metal edge, prepared for the immense weight as he started to pull. However, with almost no effort, the barrel tipped towards him and Ford let go of it in alarm. It clattered back onto the porch, a distinct metallic hollow sound reverberating out of the open canister. Ford leaned forward with a deep sinking feeling in his gut, looking inside to find it completely empty. Quickly checking the others as well, he found them empty as well. All empty…. which meant- Ford didn't even bother to close the door behind him as he bolted back inside, hastening through the security measure of the basement door and downstairs. He felt a pang of relief as he saw the machine was still turned off, large room dim, though he was still far from eased. He checked the fuel gauge first, completely full, foreboding, but a good sign. If it had been activated, it would have been empty. He turned on the electronic panel to scan the activity log. Nothing today. He finally let out a shaky breath as his hand fumbled in turning the simple circuit board off again. Ford double checked everything in the portal room as quickly as he could. As he made his way back upstairs everything locked automatically behind him. The air was colder than before, growing predictably more so as he went back towards the open door. He bitterly looked over the barrels, pulling all of the barb wire off of each of them to toss the curling metal rings into the snow. They disappeared from sight under the powdery white, as useless a precaution down there as they had been on the barrels. Ford didn't close the door as he went back inside. The house wasn’t entirely cold yet, a fading warmth seeping into his skin the further inside he went. A luxury he couldn't afford anymore, he concluded. After turning the heating off entirely, he opened the kitchen window as far as the small window could. He spent an hour, opening different windows and doors in the house, assuring nothing came inside as he turned every room of the house as frigid as the outside.

Driving in the snow and ice already wasn’t that easy, but with the amount of driving Stan had done he really didn’t think about it. Not really. Not until he had been driving for over three hours. Save for a few instances, he never drove this far in one sitting. Not during the Winter at least. This was somehow worse than his last cross country drive, and that was saying something. He pushed every hour, every minute, to fight off sleep and kept driving. It was just like that last drive, except nerve-wracking in a wholly different and frustrating way. He felt like he was fighting against the clock, but with no way to tell just how much danger there actually was. At least last time he could count on himself to be able to make it. Besides this, it was the first time he’d been in any sort of rush. Sure, he pushed himself to keep going because he was scared of getting recognized when he passed through familiar states. Better to keep up the pace rather than get recognized and have to hightail it out of there before someone came for him. Cops, old angry customers, those that he had, ahem, ‘‘‘‘borrowed’’’’ funds from.

Oddly enough, he wasn’t really worried about that now. Sure someone might recognize him, but he was barely stopping to rest and eat as it was. Definitely less than any of his old trips backtracking through states, and he hadn’t gotten recognized then! Well, for the most part. Okay, well maybe a couple times. But it had just been angry customers so that hadn’t been bad, almost fun really. 'Ya can’t blame me for you being a sucker!’ He’d told a particularly angry man as he ran out to his car. The look on his face was priceless. Good times. Well… for the most part. You don’t exactly cross back into states you’ve been banned from because of good times. ‘Banned states’ should already have been enough of a hint to imply some bad times. He had almost ran out of states to get banned from though. There were a few states scattered here and there, and he could still have gone to any of them. But hey! It’d been over ten years since he’d been in New Jersey so it’d be the best place to retrace back to, right? Even go to a different town. A city with POTENTIAL, too. Yeah, see? It was a great plan. Besides, it’s not like he’d been technically ‘BANNED’ from the state per se. Sure, run outta town by an angry mob, but you know, no official banishment as far as he could remember.

Well… you know. ... But the state itself was a different story...! He’d go somewhere new and fresh. Who wanted to go back to some dingy beach town anyways… ... Not Stan Pines… That’s for sure… Err- anyways, right, icy roads. Complete Bogus. God, see this is why driving for forty something hours with only hour naps was a bad idea, completely derails your train of thought. Anyways, anyways. All the cold weather had made the drive absolutely suck, and it didn’t really help that he was half expecting to arrive to a literal crime scene. Then it really didn’t help when he actually made it to the town. It was a small town and while the highway was at least salted the further he went into town the more it came to a barely plowed single lane path. A snowy road with only one clear line running through it. He was willing to bet a single person was paid to plow the entire town. The plowing stopped entirely once he got on the icy dirt path into the woods. The El Diablo turned slowly onto the path barely marked free of trees, the small curving line into the forest a better indicator than the snowed over road sign. He’d had to step out into the snow and wipe an arm over it to actually check the street name. Snow crunched under the wheels as he slowly went along, careful not to get stuck in any valleys as he was almost immediately surrounded by towering trees. He parked the car when he saw the house. The wooden house sat silently, muted in the snow, mysterious barrels set out on the porch. A satellite that was covered in snow, and Stan couldn’t help picking out small foreboding details. The way that the mailbox looked frozen shut with uninterrupted ice like the snow over it had melted and refroze many times over without being opened once. The distinct lack of any tracks. Although there WAS an ice encased squirrel somehow hanging on the cable. That was almost comforting. …. The….. That…. … That fucking barbed wire perimeter. “Oh, yeah, no,” Stan scoffed to himself, gesturing with an arm at the house, “this isn’t worrisome at all.” He got out of the car, shutting the door and crunching his way through the surprisingly shallow snow to the porch. He couldn't help feeling on edge, like any second some monster or goon was going to pop out at him from nowhere. The way Ford had been acting… He couldn’t help feeling there was something nearby just waiting for him to make a new step, get into just the right position. That was ridiculous though, there wasn’t anything here… probably. He looked around behind him, you know, just… checking out the scenery. Yup, snow… Great trees, too... Real uh... beautiful or whatever. ...Mmm, wow.... Nature... and uh, you know, stuff. Alright, that was enough of that. He stepped up to the wooden porch to knock on the door, expecting the wood to creak underneath his foot, but no sound came. There had barely been enough time for him to step back before the door swung open and almost immediately a crossbow was shoved out of the door, pointed at him. “Who is it?! Have you come to-!” Stan grabbed the weapon and pulled it down and away from himself with a muttered curse. The weapon, surprisingly, was rather than met with resistance to hold on was pushed down and into his gut taking Stan by surprise, lowering him to the ground slightly. He let out a huff of air and dropped the crossbow, the weapon thudding onto the wooden paneling. He looked up and was faced with his brother holding onto a baseball bat raised and pulled back, poised to swing, he stopped though, having to actually pause the swing that had already started by a few inches. The two froze for a moment, looking at each other, Ford still holding the bat in the air as he quickly scanned over Stan. Weirdly focused on staring into the depths of his soul. Well, that was what it felt with the way the other was intensely looking into his eyes like that. Oh, jeez, he needed to say something or do something. Anything. Stan rubbed the back of his head and stood up fully, and in response Ford went to set down his bat. Good start, this was good. Take the situation down a notch from crossbow in the face and jerking said crossbow out of hands. “Stanley, did anybody follow you? Did anybody in town see you?” He asked, glancing out past Stan into the snow storm. “Uh, no, I’m gonna go with ‘no,’” he said, glancing back behind him. Before he could fully look back Ford had suddenly pulled him forward by his hoodie and a bright light was shined into his eyes. “Agh-! What is this?!” He grabbed the hand holding the offending flashlight and pulled it down first before pushing them both away. The other let him do so, even taking a few steps back past what was necessary for ordinary personal space. Stan rubbed at his eyes with his knuckles, blinking away dark spots making it hard to see now. “I’m sorry, I had to be sure you weren’t-” Stanley began to actually see his brother by this point, vision returning gradually, enough to realize he was casting a suspicious glance around the room, “-ah,it’s nothing. Come in, come in.” Ford urged him. Stan complied, taking a few steps in and turned as Ford arced around him, purposefully avoiding sweeping past him too closely as he went back towards the door, closing it and- jesus. Stan’s vision was back, and he watched as his brother slid back and turned not one lock but several of them. It was easy enough to tell which ones were originally part of the house, they were the ones actually on the door itself after all. Meanwhile, the new ones were screwed securely into the wall itself. There were five locks total, including a very sturdy deadbolt and all of them almost looked- Ford began to turn back around and Stan quickly looked back up to his brother’s face, not wanting to be caught staring. However, Ford didn’t even look at him as he walked back around again, eyes on the floor. He swept past him, holding his coat closed with both of his hands up to his chest. “I wasn’t sure you were actually- I didn’t know if you were going to come or not.” He admitted. He followed after his brother, quickly glancing back at the locks on the door. Yup, new locks… “Look, are you gonna explain what’s going on now that we’re face to face?” He asked, looking around at the house as he went through the room. Scattered items, a practical mess, though at least it looked semi-organized. Could have been worse. Could have been blood-splattered with the door left open. “Yes, yes, yes,” the other answered distractedly, going towards a desk at the end of the room and fishing out a book and stack of papers, letting several papers fall to the ground carelessly. “I have to ensure that…” he paused and glanced, almost suspiciously, back at Stan, but it was only one glance and then he looked back down to the papers. He readjusted them with a journal in his grip as he turned back around, clutching them to his chest as he started walking back through the room and past Stan. “I’ve made huge mistakes and I don’t know if anybody can be trusted.” Again, as Ford went to pass by Stan he arced around him slightly, but Stan went to catch him gently by his shoulder. “Hey-” Before he could even touch Ford’s shoulder though, Ford had whipped around and smacked his hand away from him. He still had his right hand clutched around the book and papers, arm curled up to hold it protectively against his chest. He eyed Stan for a moment, on edge, taking a couple of steps back to be out of reach. Then glanced down at the ground between them, the slight alarm diminishing. “Hey…” again Stan tried to reach for Ford’s shoulder, slower this time, but as he started to move his arm he could see Ford shifting backwards. He let his foot fall back to the ground and his hand to his own side. “Easy there. Why don’t we talk this through,” he suggested. Ford brought his other hand up to the stack in his hand, holding the entirety of it securely in his grasp, looking to it. Then, determined, he looked back to Stan. “I have something to show you,” he told him, “something you won’t believe.” He used one hand to brush aside his hand for effect. “Look, alright, I’ve seen a lot. Whatever it is, it can’t be much harder to understand than half the stuff going on in town.” Stan replied with a smile, trying to ease him down. Instead, Ford seemed to falter, seeming taken aback. “You- what’s been going on in town? I thought you said nobody saw you.” He said, almost accusingly. “No, no, I didn’t mean this town. Nobody here was even out to see me, besides they couldn’t in the blizzard.” He said, gesturing back. “I meant where I’ve been. Now that town, trust me, you wouldn’t believe everything going on there.” Ford simply took just a half step backwards, seeming to go on guard, watching Stan carefully. “Like what?” Suddenly, Stan regretted trying to play the joke, but he had already let that cat out of the bag now. “Well, there’s a lot of wackos in town. Some of the stuff, they’ve been doing, yeesh.” He laughed slightly, trying to ease Ford’s obvious tension. Stan was only met with an unchanged Ford, still waiting for him to say more. “You know,” he put his hands in his pockets, “some real nutcases, I don’t even get this one guy, but I guess no one does. There’s even some that go way overboard, like you wouldn’t believe, just pulling out big stunts to steal some cash.” “I see.” He replied simply, scanning over Stan. It was silent for a little while, Stan giving Ford a rather long chance to say something or voice, you know, literally anything. Some effort would have been nice. Instead, all Ford did was pensively look at Stan, which he was actually pretty sure Ford was just staring into space if he was honest with himself. “Hey, so I did really think I was gonna come over here and find you dead or something. If you wanted to tell me what’s going on or show me that thing…” He trailed off, expectantly. “Right,” Ford said absently. Then he actually seemed to focus on Stan. “Right, yes, this has been a highly precarious situation.” He said, taking another step back. “One best handled carefully.” “Uh, okay?” Stan said, waiting. He looked back at his brother. He had almost seemed calm, even enough to do an unnecessary dramatic (c’mon who waves their hands like that, Sixer.) Now though? Now he looked just as cautious and on edge as he did opening the door. Then it hit Stan. “You’re saying that I’m not careful?” “This is a very important matter. I can’t just let something happen.” Stan went to take a step forward, upset, and instantaneously Ford jumped back a foot, nearly out of the room by this point, hand going to the doorway. He watched Stan with a new sharp-eyed expectation, poised to bolt out of the room. It was oddly reminiscent of rabbits that had spotted you and went still, watching, ready for the next inch you moved. “Christ, Ford. Calm down, okay?” Stan said, trying his best to ease him. He gestured slowly, as though a quick enough motion would be enough to set something off. “I’m not gonna bite your head off or anything, I just wanna know what the hell is going on. I mean, you did call me out to the middle of the goddamn woods talking about how I just ‘had to’ come right then and there.” “Well, I wouldn’t have called you at all if I had known- I didn’t even-” and then Ford put a hand up to his head, running it through his hair as he started talking almost to himself. “I didn’t even ask you any questions. I just called. I didn’t think-” he covered his mouth, seemingly appalled at himself. Did he really think calling him was that big of a mistake…? “What?” Stan demanded, frustrated. “What’s the problem?! You wanted to show me something and oh just because there’s a bit of crime in my parts, SUDDENLY, you can’t show me?! There’s crime in every town, alright, pal. Besides, it’s not like it means anything.” “It’s obviously more dangerous where you are than most towns. For all I know there could be cultists there too!!” He accused. Stan crossed his arms, and looked aside. “Pshh, I don’t know anything about any cults. D’ya hear yourself?” There was at least one cult in Gotham, probably a few, in all honesty. However, there was no way in hell he was letting him know about that now. Well that, among a few other things. “You don’t understand, Stanley!” Ford immediately snapped back at him. “I only called you because I thought you’d be removed from dangerous people and apparently you’re surrounded by them!” Surrounded was definitely the right term considering all the criminals, but, again, Ford didn’t know that. “You’re just making assumptions, I never said there was a TON of them, just some, alright! Why does it even matter though? What did you call me over here for?!” “I needed- I’ve been hiding my research. I was going to ask you to take the last piece and go far away to hide it, but that’s out of the question now!” “You just wanted me to come run an errand for you?!” Stan asked, almost sure he could physically feel some string of patience snapping inside of him. “This isn’t a shopping list, Stanley! It’s extremely serious!!” “Well, you know, it sure sounds like it. Oh, WAIT! I wouldn’t know about that because the only thing I know is that you’re terrified of something happening and want to hide some kind of research!” “I am- I am not ‘terrified!’” Ford refuted. “I’m simply being careful” “Oh, right.” Stan replied, words dripping with sarcasm. “Because nothing says ‘careful’ like answering your front door with a fucking crossbow.” “I didn’t know it was you!” “Look, what’s going on. Are you getting blackmailed, threatened, what’s going on?!” “That’s not-” “Is that why you didn’t want to talk over the phone? Are you being watched?” Ford froze at that, unable to keep his eyes from shifting around the room. Nail on the head. Not that that wasn’t already obvious, but he just wanted some kind of confirmation from Ford of what was going on. If he had to throw stuff at the wall until he could see what stuck then so be it. His brother had to have messed with something big or gotten bad attention... Or he had completely gone off the rails. Seeing the condition of the house and Ford himself he couldn’t really rule out that option, but it wasn’t one he was going to think about. Although… well he couldn’t help really looking over his brother now that the thought had come up. He was watching him, still paused in place, possibly holding his breath to keep himself from breathing. If he was actually breathing though, it had to be very slight. Clothes, a mess. Although, that coat looked like it hadn’t been washed in months, so that was more of a long term lack of hygiene then really whatever had recently been happening. Hair, a mess. All over the place and he had stubble too. Face, a mess. That was putting it nicely too, his eyes had been near constantly shifting over anything and everything, like something was going to pop out at any moment. Not to mention the very obvious lack of sleep, bags under his eyes from who knows how long he’d gone without rest. Most of all though, the way he acted, the way he moved. He was like a cornered animal that seemed as likely to scrape something up as it was to run away and not stop until it was miles and miles away from anything dangerous. Even now, Ford hadn’t said anything back yet. Just stared back at Stanley with bright eyes full of something shiny and cold. As frozen as the shack itself they were in. Stan took a deep breath, letting it back out slowly. “Alright,” he said, with incredible bounds of patience, “you know, I came here to help you out of whatever mess you’re in, so just tell me what I can do.” Ford blinked back at him, and looked aside, thinking, wheels in his head obviously turning over options. “You can…” he trailed off and it took another dozen seconds for him to continue, slowly, “You can’t take the journal now…” and almost too quiet to hear, “unless maybe...” He nodded his head to himself. “I need to think.” He said slowly, still not looking at Stan as he walked off down the hall, hunched over with the book. Stan simply stood there, taking in a slow deep breath as he heard the steps going off down the hallway. He let all his frustration out in a quiet and long stream of curses to the floor.

#gravity falls fic #crossover fic #Fic: Gotham Falls #paranoid ford #mullet stan #bc Y E AH #my fics #my own #!!! finally putting up ch 2 on tumblr!!!!#not gonna lie to y'all #i remember proofreading up to ch 5 #so i'm not gonna proofread this before posting #bc like - i KNOW i extensively checked it out before #tumblr could mess up the formatting thou #i'll try to start backlogging the chapters on here every 2 weeks though!!#that way it also gives me a solid 28 weeks to get into some good gotham shenanigans #gOSH i just get really excited about this fic man #you guys don't even know #/i had to italics all bits back up so hopefully i didn't miss anything/#i'm also just... striaght up not gonna worry about the spacing #if you read this though - i'll tell ya one of the hints for the dream sequence #was that the paragraphs themselves had extra lines of space between them

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a-mad-scientist-approaches · 6 years

Text

Multiverse is a Curse Word (6)

Okay, hiatus time after this one, but I’ll try to get the next one out as soon as I can. Everyone who has been keeping track of this crazy thing so far, it has meant so much to me. Thank you!!

As always, Adeline Marks is @hntrgurl13‘s awesome OC, and the Dimension Jumper and Drifting Dimensions AUs are her creations also.

@the-subpar-ghost made the Adrift AU, a goldmine of feels, angst, and Ford-Mabel bonding.

The Addiford ship is from the mind of @scipunk63. I think you’ll like this chapter.

@deadpool-demon-diva and @thejesterlyfictionista. Here’s a new one, enjoy.

Minor spoiler: There’s flashbacks to alternate lives, and in one of these Stan is mentioned to have read Tolkien. This is from @amolecularmachine‘s brilliant fic By the Skin of Your Teeth. Go read it.

AO3 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11

Chapter 6: Naturally-Occurring Nerdy Stuff

Addi felt guilt begin to crush her as soon as she heard Mabel whimper in her sleep. She had given Stanford the sword; she hadn’t tried hard enough to convince Wesley she could handle the job; she had encouraged her two companions to stay with the resistance even though she knew Wesley might try to get them involved; she had become entangled in the resistance herself. Addi sighed. The mistakes just kept piling up.

At another whine from Mabel she abandoned her position on watch and padded through the silk-soft green grass to where the girl was sleeping. The beauty of this planet’s forests would be a sight to behold in the morning.

“Hey, sweetie,” she said gently, running a hand through Mabel’s short brown curls, “hey, it’s okay, you’re safe, you’re safe …”

Mabel opened her eyes and looked around, reorienting herself. Addi continued to stroke her hair until her breathing evened out. The sound of wind rustling through delicate leaves soothed them both.

Eventually Mabel sat up and rested her chin on her knees, shifting her blanket so that it wrapped completely around her. Stanford hadn’t been eager to retrieve their supplies from the shuttle (delaying their departure through a portal), but Addi was now glad she had insisted. Having a halfway decent campsite encouraged a feeling of safety and homeliness, something they all needed.

“Not sleeping tonight?” she asked. Mabel shook her head silently and leaned against Addi, who enveloped her in a hug.

“You know it wasn’t your fault, right?”

Mabel remained quiet for a few seconds, then replied, “I keep going over and over it in my head, but I can’t see it happening any differently. I mean, when I swung the sword I didn’t know she was there, and I needed to shut the security doors.” She turned to Addi with anguish in her eyes. “Am I missing something? Was there anything I could have done to make it go right?”

Truth be told, Addi had no idea. Thirty years of travelling through the multiverse had pretty effectively demolished all her certainty and guarded scepticism. There was undoubtedly a universe where everything had gone right for Mabel, where no one had died or come near to death. There was also a universe where nothing had gone right. The chaos that perpetually engulfed the multiverse meant that Addi had rarely been able to do more than hope like hell she was not part of the latter, and wish that she occasionally caught a glimpse of the former.

“No. I think that was entirely out of your control.” Addi answered. “Everything has to happen somewhere, and that was what happened to you … but let’s play out a hypothetical situation: if you had missed that guard, and hit the control panel, what do you think would have happened afterwards?”

The teary girl thought. “She still had her gun … and she was definitely not afraid to use it,”

“Right. So regardless of whether she was simply trying to do her job, or protect her friends, or was hyped up on adrenaline, anger, or fear, she was also trying to hurt you and your great uncle. You were trying to keep yourself and your family safe.” She let that soak in for a moment before continuing. “Mabel, it is wonderful when you can find a win-win scenario, but they are not guaranteed all the time.”

The girl sighed as though some of the weight had been lifted from her. There was still a long way to go, but it was a start.

“It’s not your fault either, Addi.” She said unexpectedly. “Blaming yourself for being betrayed is something overly-dramatic TV action heroes do to gain tragic sympathy from viewers. It’s compelling, but silly. And you’re not silly, Grauntie Addi.” She finished sternly. Then she nestled into the speechless woman’s lap matter-of-factly.

⃝

Ford was awoken by daylight streaming through a parting in the trees to hit him precisely in the eyes. Rolling over to avoid it, he found he was the last to wake. Adeline and Mabel were both enclosed in a blanket, softly playing a hand game.

“Morning sunshine,” Adeline said when she saw him.

“I’m awake enough to recognise sarcasm,” Ford warned, sitting up.

“Sarcastic? I? Your paranoia is getting the better of you again, Stanford,”

“Here you go, Grunkle Ford.” Mabel deposited a fruit in his lap and crouched next to him. “It’s not poisonous, I ate one before you woke up.”

“You what?”

“She’s just messing with you,” Adeline said, shaking her head.

“Oh, so you have learnt some caution,” Ford said, relieved.

Mabel laughed. “Oh no, I totally ate, like, three. But Addi knew it was okay,”

Still mildly concerned, Ford finished the sweet tasting food.

“Are you okay, though?” he asked tentatively after swallowing. He could tell by the shadow which temporarily dampened her light mood that she knew he was not talking about the fruit.

Mabel shrugged slightly, avoiding his eyes. “I could do with a couple million stuffed animals and a huge family hug pile,” she said, her voice catching because they all knew that neither were possible.

Regardless, he would do his best. He put as much love into the following embrace as he could muster, and the surprised giggle Mabel made when Addi joined in allowed him to believe that they were equivalent to at least a hundred fluffy toys.

⃝

“I wish we could stay here,” Mabel said wistfully as they packed up.

“As do I, however I think it would be safer if we continued to move on. That threat Wesley gave you was decidedly ominous,” Ford directed at Adeline.

“I don’t think he’d come after us.” She frowned. “Then again, I didn’t think he was a flipping insane-” she paused.

“Butthead!” Mabel supplied.

Ford nodded his agreement and checked the readings on his analyser before altering his calculations.

“Another portal should be opening up around here-”

“There!” Mabel shouted. “Bye forest!”

They stepped through the bright blue circle.

Ford had never gotten used to crossing dimensions, and he doubted he ever would. The experience was the same for everyone. They caught flashes of events from their alternate selves’ lives.

… he was in a darkened room and a terrified boy who could only be Mabel’s brother was pointing a memory gun at him …

… he was in a hospital bed and feeling worse than ever in his life, but Stan was making him grin like an idiot by admitting he had read Tolkien …

… he was staring down in shock at the lifeless form of his niece, who had just managed to plunge Adeline’s sword into the control panel before being shot down …

⃝

Addi shivered and took a deep breath, throwing off the lingering feeling that she was falling off a cliff towards the Gravity Falls river. Stanford was looking pretty shaken up too.

“Hello forest!” Mabel said cheerfully. Their new location was rather less pleasant, but it did seem to be another forest. It had dry, browny-green, tough-looking trees rather than the earlier lush, deep green ones, and raw, baking heat emanated from every available surface, reflecting the sun’s glare. The pale pink sky was stubbornly clear of cloud cover.

“We’re going to need water,” Addi stated.

It was almost three hours before they found any. By then, all of them were exhausted and soaked with sweat. They were also extremely tired of the rocky, uneven terrain.

Mabel let out a groan of relief upon seeing the river. Without saying another word she threw off her boots, her black coat, and her sweater, and flopped into the coolness, remembering to keep it away from her face until they knew it was a fresh water current. Addi, too, immediately stripped off her outer layers and sat beneath a tree on the river’s edge, allowing the cool liquid to soothe her burning feet.

Stanford held off his moment of peace, of course. She expected nothing less from the man who would work himself to exhaustion on the portal before he slept. He took out a capsule-like device and trickled some water into it. It beeped and flashed green.

“Okay, it’s fresh,”

Mabel instantly dunked her head into the water and lay face-down. Stanford added his own contributions to the pile of clothes, including a starry, dark blue sweater that Mabel had obviously made. This revealed something that made Addi snort.

“Nice tat,” she laughed. Ford flushed slightly and instinctively clapped a hand over the cheerful little star inked onto his neck. Its yellow colour exactly matched Mabel’s shirt.

“Shut up,” he said irritably, and waded into the river.

“I want one just like it,” Mabel enthused, coming up for air to hear the exchange.

“No. Never,”

“Aw, you’re no fun,”

Stanford narrowed his eyes. “What is this? My niece has suddenly become deluded and irrational! She must have been bitten by the deadly Lunacy Beetle of Madron, whose poison can only be flushed out by,” he surged over to Mabel, “extensive water exposure!”

Mabel shrieked and caught him in the face with a blast of water. This did little to deter him, and Mabel was plucked out of the river and mercilessly dunked back under over and over. Droplets trailed sparkles through the air. The girl’s war cries and vows of vengeance were interspersed with splutters, rendering her as threatening as a kitten. On Dunk Number Five however, she managed to grab onto Ford’s shirt effectively enough to pull him under with her, and when they emerged again they were both coughing up water.

“So is the madness all out of your system? Do you consider me sufficiently ‘fun’ again?” Ford asked once his lungs were clear.

“Yeah, yeah, you’ve made your point.” Conceded Mabel. “BUT, that water fight wasn’t fair. You are way out of your league, old man.”

“Oh, well in that case, maybe I need to enlist Addi’s help. Together we should surely be a match for you.” He turned to look at Adeline, but she was already crashing towards them. Ford’s confident expression was wiped away however when Addi dived at him rather than his niece. Mabel cheered as they went under.

Below the surface it was difficult to discern much of anything, the silt being so recently stirred up, but Addi did see a glint as Ford’s glasses came off. She caught them in one hand and grinned mischievously down at him, close enough to see his matching expression. She was very conscious of how he had not removed his arm from around her waist since they had fallen. Also, she needed air.

“Is that a jet ski?” asked Mabel when they resurfaced. They looked, Addi returning Ford’s glasses.

The river was very broad, so much so that the opposite bank was a blur. However, there was what looked like a small vehicle heading in their general direction.

“I don’t think they’ve seen us. It’s most likely a patrol of some kind. Nevertheless, we don’t want to be noticed,” Stanford said warily.

On the bank they shoved their feet into their boots and Addi hid their dry clothes and bags in a bush. A layer of leaves combined with rock-hard dirt eliminated the need to cover their tracks, so they retreated straight into the refuge provided by the forest, and waited. It was only then Addi realised she had forgotten to grab their weapons in her haste.

She expected the vehicle to pass by on a quick sweep, then continue down the river. Instead, it came to a stop not far from their supplies and the rider dismounted. The amphibian-like person walked unassumingly forward, bulbous eyes fixed on a monitor in their hands.

Seriously? Our luck cannot be this bad, Addi thought disbelievingly as they were forced to back away indefinitely as the stranger moved innocently towards them.

After a ridiculous sixty feet of this, the alien even following their evasive and curved paths, there were more footsteps off to their side. Another person with a monitor was heading their way. Addi stopped breathing as herself and her friends crouched in the middle of some large bushes and waited for the beings to pass them by. Through the leaves, she saw them gesture to a sick-looking tree and compare monitors. Mabel released a breath and Stanford relaxed.

Environmentalists. No threat. Unless you hurt their trees.

She jerked her head towards an outcrop of boulders a reasonable distance from where the scientists were working. Quickly and quietly, the three of them left the site of interest.

“That never happens to us!” Mabel said happily to Ford. “It always turns out to be bounty hunters, or space police, or some other person you’ve upset.”

“I’ve upset? Allow me to remind you of a certain gambler who destroyed half a market square not a week ago,” Ford responded in mock offence.

“Ooh, shiny.” Mabel noticed, deftly changing the subject to look under the gap between a boulder and the ground. “I think I can – ACK!” She suddenly disappeared from view.

“MABEL!” Both adults yelled. Stanford leaped to where she had been sliding into the gap, and he too disappeared.

Knowing it probably was not a good idea, but going ahead with it anyway, Addi grabbed a sharp rock and followed. There was a near invisible hole under the boulder with a small, glittering white crystal on its other side. Bracing herself, she dropped into the darkness.

It was like a slide. A really rough, nearly vertical slide. Amid the tumbling of rocks, she heard shouting coming from below her and prayed the others were okay. She hit the floor of a cavern with a jolt, but managed to stay on her feet, and spun around with the rock raised, searching for some sort of cave-dwelling monstrosity. Instead, she saw Stanford and Mabel both gazing around in ecstasy, spouting off half to each other and half to themselves about the wonders surrounding them.

The wonders in question were many, many, larger versions of the crystal marking the entrance to the hole. The entire place was filled with stars. Addi dropped the rock.

“Addi, Addi look! It’s so pretty, it’s like magic! Is it magic? It could be magic! What if there’s fairies down here? -”

“Adeline, the luminous properties of these crystals is amazing! It appears they can absorb and store energy almost perfectly, and only release a small amount as light, creating this wonderful glimmer!-”

“-fairies use them for building houses! Or maybe there’s an underground society of dwarfs that come and mine this place! Or even-”

“-significant usefulness as batteries or even devices of their own! Do you think we could fashion some sort of communicator out of them? Maybe-”

“-dragon treasure! I could probably make a bracelet out of these-”

“”-look, even as we’re speaking they’re growing brighter from the kinetic energy produced by sound vibrations!”

“I need some!”

“I must take a sample!”

“So, I guess you two haven’t encountered endo-ergon quartz before?” queried Addi, amused at their excitement.

“You have?” replied Ford, carefully unearthing some and placing them in a pocket.

“A few times. I’ve never seen a deposit of this size before. You are right, they make good batteries. I use them when I can to power things like Big Bertha, my transmitter, my portal beacon …”

Which reminds me, I should set that up, Addi remembered. She grabbed a couple of crystals for herself.

“Wow, they’re pretty handy.” Called Mabel, collecting some of the smaller ones. “This cave is full of naturally-occurring nerdy things! Except these rocks are actually beautiful and useful, which is completely different to Dipper’s collection at home. I think he has some gravel in there.” She mused.

There was an exit at the back of the cavern which returned them to the forest. Once they were in the open Mabel turned to Addi.

“Grauntie Addi, I’m going to make you a friendship bracelet. And you Grunkle Ford. And one for me too,” With that decision, she began to run back up the incline to where the rock pile was situated.

“Grauntie?” Ford said in surprise.

“Yes. I’m very proud,”

“I guess that decides it,” said Ford absentmindedly.

“Decides what?”

“Oh, er, I was going to ask whether you wanted to stay with us.” He said, a bit awkwardly. “I mean, you’ve saved our lives so many times already, and you are extremely capable, and amazing at, well, everything. I honestly cannot thank you enough.” He drew in a breath. “I know that I’m asking a lot, for you to keep helping us, so hopefully we’ll be able to return the favour at some point.”

Addi opened her mouth to deny the notion that she expected anything in return, to say that it had been her privilege to meet them, and get to know them, and spend time with them. However, Ford didn’t seem to be done.

“Mabel clearly loves you and wants you to come with us. I have to say, it would be greatly beneficial for her to have someone other than myself to care for her, especially someone who actually seems to know what they’re doing with kids.” He gave a quick, but nervous, grin at that. “I, myself, value your company exceedingly, and I would … greatly appreciate it if you decide to remain.”

Are you kidding? She wanted to scream. Of course! She figured that would be fairly alarming however. A shout of joy was all she wanted to do, though, because she could feel a swell of emotions about to explode from her like a volcano of happiness. He couldn’t know how much what he had said meant to her. He hadn’t even known her in his dimension! At home she had always thought of herself as good, but nowhere near as brilliant as her two friends. Yet here she was, and Stanford was telling her that she was the capable one, was nervously asking her to stay with him as though there was any other option she had considered, and above all was completely trusting her with the life of the wonderful child he had in his care when only a week ago he had seen her as his enemy.

“So … will you stay?”

The volcano erupted.

Completely impulsively, but without any regrets, she stepped forward and kissed him, entwining their fingers as she did. After a moment of uncertainty, she was relieved to find him kissing her back.

⃝

Whatever Mabel had expected was the reason Addi and Ford were taking so long, seeing them making out in a clearing full of light was not it. The first thing she did was react appropriately.

“MATCH MADE!” she screamed.

#ADDIFORD IS HEREEEE #yes i love this ship #addiford #park ranger aliens #gravity falls #fanfiction #adrift au #dimension jumper au #drifting dimensions au #portal ford #portal mabel #portal addi #adeline marks #stanford pines #mabel pines #multiverse is a curse word #my writing

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grifalinas · 6 years

Text

There’s been a buzzing in Stan’s ear since Wendy came running up through the gift shop to tell him about the twins finding the hidden passage to the basement, about the three of them going downstairs to explore, about the lift they’d found and stepped into and she hadn’t thought to follow them and it had turned itself on and vanished and the last thing she’d heard was a high, cold, cruel laugh that felt like nails on her spine and made her hair stand on end and now the twins are gone and they need to go after them and, and, and and and-

He’d gone and found Ford, leaving Wendy to deal with the tour group, and by the time they came back downstairs the Shack was empty apart from Soos and Wendy, who follow them down into the basement despite the lack of invitation.

“You two need to stay up here,” Ford says sternly, while Stan hits buttons and dials that are themselves hidden in the walls. A panel in the wall turns around, revealing a pair of, for lack of a better word, guns, and two pairs of- for lack of a better word- boots, and a pair of ordinary burgundy jumpsuits.

They look different than they did thirty years ago. Ford has upgraded them extensively in the past three decades, needing to feel prepared in case He ever escaped. Stan had always hoped they’d never need them, but- well, this time he can’t fault his brother’s paranoia. They’re going to need those upgrades if they’re going to beat Him, they’re going to need the edge of Him not knowing everything they’ve got at their disposal.

At least this time around they’re not going in blind. They know what to expect, at least somewhat- no doubt He’s made upgrades too, but they can still prepare, as best they can. Stan takes down two backpacks, each stuffed with anything they might need down there- rations, a first aid kit, an emergency blanket, even a spare pair of glasses and, in Stan’s case, a backup hearing aid. There’ll be no repeat of the mistakes they made before.

So they change into the jumpsuits and shoulder the packs and clip on the utility belts that carry the tools Ford made for them, step into the boots that fit so much more comfortably now- Stan notices that he no longer has to balance on his toes, the weight distribution is much more even now- and finally they slip their arms into the guns, only barely wincing as the guns lock onto their arms to keep them in place.

Stan wiggles his fingers into the triggers, and is surprised when he finds a second pair, and a fifth for his thumb. Those hadn’t been there before. He gives Ford a confused look, but Ford’s face is impassive, he’s in scientist mode, he’s in testing mode, Stan isn’t going to get any answers from him any time soon, so instead he reaches out and rests his free hand reassuringly on Soos’s shoulder. He doesn’t have any right to ask what he’s about to ask of him, not when Soos won’t even fully comprehend what he’s being asked unless Stan and Ford succeed and are able to come back and explain themselves-

-except they will make it back, Stan is determined to. They’ll get down there and find the twins and bring them home and maybe while they’re there they’ll find a way to beat Him for good, so they can stop worrying about it.

“Listen, Soos,” Stan forces himself to say. “This may be the last order I ever give you and it’s up to you if you want to cut your losses and run-”

“Never,” Soos says, and Stan knows he means it, but the kid doesn’t understand, can’t understand, might never understand-

“Listen. What’s down in that basement is dangerous. If it ever gets out, it could destroy the whole town. It could kill everyone. We’ve kept things on lockdown here but if we don’t make it back, then you’ll need to take over. Keep the Shack running or shut it down, it doesn’t matter, but make sure that whatever is in that basement stays there.”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Pines,” Soos says, saluting. He looks stern and determined and a little bit frightened but not as pants-wettingly terrified as he should.

“Are you sure you understand?” he asks. “Tell me again. I need to hear you say the words.”

“Watch the Shack until you get back and make sure nothing bad escapes from the basement.”

Until you get back. “Soos-”

“-and once you get back then you can tell us what’s going on.”

He can’t do it. He can’t bring himself to shatter that hope. He lets his hand fall with a sigh. “Okay, Soos. Just... wanted to make sure.” He turns to Wendy next. “Wendy-”

“I got it, dude,” Wendy says. She looks more laid back and chill than ever, which means she is as terrified as Soos should be. Stan hates that, but he’s kind of grateful, too. He doesn’t expect her to stick around longer than a few days if they don’t come back, but at least Soos will have someone he can talk to about what happened, even if neither of them will be sure.

“Time to go, Stanley,” Ford says quietly, so Stan shifts the gun to rest on his shoulder and they go to the lift. It never came back after it took the twins, which is kind of a good thing, Stan thinks: it means He doesn’t expect them to follow. They can use that. It is going to make getting down there harder, though.

“I hate this part,” Stan says, hooking his left arm around Ford’s shoulder and feeling Ford mirror the motion with his right arm around Stan’s waist. There’s static visibly discharging from the side of his own gun and his boots, and then he’s says, ‘Hop!’ and does so, catching the side of his gun against the wall and using his feet to steady and guide them as they spiral around the lift tube.

Stan’s eyes are clenched tight against the dizzying height and motion, so there’s no warning when they finally land. He steps away from his brother and straightens, trying to orient himself, and then the two nod.

“We’re gonna make it back,” Stan says suddenly, and gets a baffled look from Ford. He swallows, and repeats, “We’re gonna make it back. I’m not leaving Soos to run my business, he’ll ruin the place. So we’ve gotta make it back.”

For just one moment the dead look Ford has taken on falls away to be replaced by a more familiar openness, and he nods.

“All right, Stanley. We’re going to make it back.”

#aperture falls #the portal gun can now make two sets of portals #and it has another trick but i'm not revealing that one until #you know #i Reveal it

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batberryboo · 7 years

Text

i actually wrote most of this months ago but dusted it off and finished it up for day 6 of @fiddauthor-week-four !

parallel fidds preparing to send ford through the portal when he has an “i volunteer as tribute” moment. enjoy

---

Fiddleford hurried to the nearby control panel, rapidly pressing a series of buttons embedded across a complex dashboard. The massive machine at the far end of the room began to emit a low hum as it was rebooted. Blue lights dotting its border flickered to life. The gaping hole at the center of the contraption produced a swirl of blue light seemingly out of the thin air. It grew, spiraling at a mesmerizing pace until it became a wall of pulsing, blue energy. The portal had been reopened.

Without wasting a moment, Fiddleford rushed to a nearby computer and quickly typed in the coordinates of the destination he and Ford had discussed: Bill’s Nightmare Realm. He turned back to Ford who was in awe of the room, fascinated by the improvements Fiddleford and his respective Stanford Pines had made to the technology.

“There isn’t much time,” Fiddleford explained briskly, redirecting Ford’s attention. “I told my Stanford I’d be working late, but we’ve waited too long. He might come lookin’ for me, so we need to hurry.”

“You’re brilliant,” Ford replied, ignoring his urgency and staring at him from a few feet away. “Fiddleford, this is incredible.”

“Please focus.”

“I can’t believe you made all this. I mean, of course I believe it, I just can’t believe I’m actually seeing it.”

“I’m bein’ serious,” Fiddleford pressed, glancing anxiously at the door. “And for the record, I didn’t build most of this. I only made the blueprints.”

Ford smiled weakly. “Do all Fiddlefords understate their achievements?”

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never met any,” he quipped in response, unable to suppress the smallest grin when Ford actually laughed.

“They’re all smartasses too, apparently.” Smiling wider, he snapped on his goggles. It felt entirely inappropriate to be smiling and laughing under the circumstances, but it did provide a small amount of comfort. “Thanks for everything. I’m really going to miss you.”

Fiddleford nodded, feeling his chest tighten. It was a familiar sentiment. He distinctly remembered multiple occasions where his Stanford, beaming with affection, would kiss him unabashedly outside the airport, murmuring words of love when he had the chance, and nearly making Fiddleford miss his flight to one of several business meetings and college lectures.

“I’ll miss you, too,” he heard himself say, although it was almost inaudible. An overwhelming combination of nausea and dread churned in the pit of his stomach as he watched Ford turn away.

His chances were slim. They had discussed this earlier while Fiddleford tinkered with Ford’s death ray. He’d need a perfect shot to eliminate Bill, but he’d have to avoid being struck down by swarms of monsters and navigate countless other obstacles in the process. They had debated several times over his plan of attack, but there was no solid solution to be found. No amount of planning could prepare Ford for what Bill had in store for him; the Nightmare Realm was too unpredictable. They both knew he’d have improvise, and he’d have to do it alone.

There was a 97.9% chance of failure. Fiddleford had run the calculations obsessively through his head for days. This mission was 97.9% doomed, and Ford was 97.9% certain to die in the next 10 minutes.

Is this what an executioner feels like? He thought gravely as his friend stepped onto the ramp. Ford hesitated on the strip of metal, staring silently at the swirling blue light. He stood completely still for several achingly long moments, his coat billowing behind him. Fiddleford waited with bated breath. He could barely hear himself think.

97.9% 97.9% 97.9%.

Ford took a step forward.

“Wait!” Fiddleford cried, stumbling up the ramp. Ford turned, lifting his goggles in surprise as the other man gripped his arms tightly. He was shaking, and his eyes were wide with fear.

“W-what’s wrong?” he asked, startled.

“Don’t,” Fiddleford pleaded. His words slurred as he struggled to contain himself. “Don’t do it. Y-you don’t have to do this.”

“Slow down- what are you talking about?”

“I will go,” he stammered. “Let me go instead.”

Ford immediately stiffened, and his blood ran ice cold.

“No. Absolutely not,” he said sternly, placing his hands on Fiddleford’s shoulders. He imagined Fiddleford hovering in the inky black darkness of the Nightmare Realm, alone, facing Bill’s gang of demons and monsters. The vision made him sick to his stomach.

“Let me,” Fiddleford begged, tightening his grip on Ford’s coat. “I can send you home. You’ve suffered enough. Let me.”

“NO!” Ford’s voice was edged with desperation, and Fiddleford flinched at his tone. “I won’t let you. You could die!”

“So could you!” he snapped, eyes glazed with tears. “You don’t deserve this.”

“It is not your responsibility to fix my mistakes-”

“You could live out the rest of your life in peace,” Fiddleford continued, his voice hoarse. “You could be with your Fiddleford again.”

Ford paused, staring intensely at his familiar face. For a moment, he thought about home. He thought about his Fiddleford and where he might be now. He wondered what it would be like to see him again. Would Fiddleford forgive him after everything that’s happened? He wanted to apologize, desperately. He allowed himself to fantasize about the perfect life back in Gravity Falls, wanting nothing more than to spend the last of his years on Earth growing old with the love of his life.

Drifting back into reality, Ford became aware of the dampness on his cheeks. He hadn’t realized he’d been crying.

“Fidds,” he murmured weakly before pulling the man into a tight embrace. Fiddleford wrapped his arms around him and buried his face into his chest. They stood together in silence while Ford combed lovingly through Fiddleford’s greying hair. Finally, he sighed and pulled away to look at him once more. “How would your Stanford feel if he knew what you did? What if you never came back?”

Fiddleford remained silent. Ford admired the wrinkles at the corner of his mouth and below his eyes. Raising his hand, he lifted his chin and kissed the side of his face. He lingered there, savoring the softness of Fiddleford’s cheek against his lips.

“Go home, my darling,” he said softly. “Your husband is worried about you.”

---

Fiddleford shut down the portal, drained of energy. Stanford was gone. His departure was anticlimactic; he simply stepped through the blue light and disappeared without a sound.

His footsteps echoed through the grand hallways of the institute as he headed for an exit. Fiddleford made sure the rest of the staff had been dismissed before he snuck his stowaway into the portal room, and the eerie silence only made the experience more surreal.

He checked his watch half heartedly. It was close to midnight. He knew his husband must be concerned about his whereabouts by now, and he’d have to pick up the pace if he wanted to get home sooner. But despite his efforts, he was making no progress at all. He dragged his feet; they felt like they were stuck in quicksand. His entire body felt hollow and soon it became nearly impossible to move.

He wasn’t sure when he collapsed, but the next thing he knew was that he was sobbing uncontrollably in a heap on the floor. Tears spilled freely down his cheeks as he openly weeped. He could only imagine how pathetic he must’ve looked. He didn’t bother to dry his tears; they stained his suit jacket and dripped onto the floor. He used every last ounce of strength to cry as hard as he could until his entire body felt numb.

The sound of a door opening and closing echoed from somewhere nearby; someone was coming. Fiddleford swallowed and wiped his cheeks hurriedly, but it was no use. He was too weak to get up, and the tears refused to quit streaming down his face. He waited anxiously as the sound of footsteps grew louder.

“... Fiddleford!” He recognized the familiar voice of Stanford, his Stanford. He was standing, partially in shock, at one end of the hallway before he sprinted and dropped to his knees to gather Fiddleford hastily in his arms. His tone was shrill with distress. “Are you okay? Oh my God, are you hurt?”

“M’fine,” Fiddleford rasped, melting weakly into his husband’s arms. Ford frowned, unconvinced.

“You’re crying,” he noted, lifting a hand to his wet cheek. “Why are you on the floor? Did something happen?”

“I’m alright,” Fiddleford assured him quietly, gazing up at him through sleepy, half lidded eyes. He was still dizzy and exhausted from his emotional outburst, but Ford’s face kept him grounded. “I can explain… but, it’s a long story.”

Ford nodded, looking him over briefly. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

“Mhm.”

“Would you like to come home?”

“Please.” He raised his hand to touch the side of Ford’s face. Quietly, he traced along his jaw, his fingers dragging gently over his stubbly chin. “I love you,” he whispered, savoring every second as if it were his last.

Ford smiled, partially confused, but always happy to hear it. He took his hand gently, his wedding ring glinting in the dim light.

“I love you too,” Ford replied, kissing his palm gingerly. “Would you like me to carry you?”

“If it’s no trouble.”

“It’s not,” he said earnestly. “I’ll make us some hot chocolate, too. We can get nice and warm on the couch and you can tell me all about what happened.”

Fiddleford smiled drowsily and breathed a sigh.

“I would like that very, very much.”

#fiddauthor #my writes #how do you.. write drama?#how do you..... make things NOT cheesy #fanfic

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kiran-wears-science-blues · 7 years

Text

So tonight is the three year Andrew anniversary, which is awesome!!! But I’m also letting it go.

Now that I’m hanging in one place for 4-5 years I want to try to start dating seriously, and since I’m looking for something monogamous for now, it’d be unfair to be engaging with real emotions for someone else, regardless of how fictional that someone else is. Andrew can still be a favorite character, but anything that would be inappropriate with a real life ex would be inappropriate with him, which includes self-insert fantasies.

I mention this here because I have a lot of wonderful anons who engage in the Andrew stuff with me, and my birthday is coming up and in past years I’ve had wonderful people drown me in Kiran/Andrew stuff, but I’m asking to not receive that anymore as I’m trying to move on. I absolutely love everything you guys have given me, but it’s time to let go. (If anyone forgets, that is a-okay, I’ll just reply privately.)

But thank you all so much for all the support you have given me over the years of this whole Andrew thing. It means the world to me. This was a fantastic journey and I loved every second of it.

I wrote one last self-insert thing to see this out.

Andrew’s hands are soft as they brush my hair behind my ear, but I can feel the rough callouses of physical training on his fingers. I lean into his touch, my eyes closed.

“Hey,” he says. “You okay?”

I nod once. “Will be,” I murmur back.

---

The first time I dreamed of Andrew, I dreamed of his pain. He was quiet and distant, troubled thoughts keeping his eyes downcast. I reached to him. He was startled by my touch, but accepted it – in time he came to seek me out when he was overwhelmed, would tuck his head into my shoulder as he melted into my hugs.

I dreamed I lay down to nap with the afternoon sun warm on my bed. I was drifting when a shift in the mattress woke me. Andrew had lain beside me, his back pressed right up to my chest, sadness a tension running through every line in his body. I slid my arm around his waist and held him close to me. He relaxed. I felt warmth suffuse me as I pressed my face against his neck and felt his hair tickle my nose.

I woke to reality – a cold, empty bed, but that warmth still radiating throughout me.

Dreams are not reality, and yet they usher in emotion as vivid, as tangible, as any waking feelings. Dreams are not reality, but they are moments of experience all the same -- gifts that do not have to follow the rules, where fiction can be made flesh and bone and wrapped in a hug.

---

I curl up into a ball on the couch, fleece blanket draped over my shoulders. Andrew brings us tea -- mine in the Star Trek mug with the likeness of Kirk and Spock emblazoned on the side; his in the mug painted in a facsimile of R2-D2. I cradle my tea in my hands, and the scent of chamomile wafts up to me.

---

I wonder what Andrew would smell like. I like to think of cedar and cinnamon – they go together, and they call to mind the earthiness and homely comforts I associate with him. Cedar and cinnamon. But it’s only a romantic, poetic phrase that would never capture the nuances of a personal scent.

It was late summer in Montreal. I pressed my face into a sweatshirt and a pillow and an old stuffed animal and imagined them Andrew. The sweatshirt smelled not of much; the pillow of me; the stuffed animal of the milky muskiness of an old childhood toy. The window was open, letting in the scents of thunderstorm. My roommate had lit a candle; it smelled like pine. My feet were propped up on one of many boxes stacked around the emptying apartment, and dust tickled my nose.

I was on the cusp of a move, of letting go of a home that breathed happiness and trying to rebuild all that on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean. I was going to leave almost everything behind. I was nervous and excited and wary and hopeful, and the feeling of being caught in the currents of life was so strong it was almost overwhelming. But Andrew was coming with me.

It was all so fucking tangible – the feeling of change of hope of growth of life, and of Andrew being there. He’d be coming with me in the form of a pillow and a sweatshirt and a stuffed animal and a whole lot of imagination, but it all tangled together and he felt real. I could almost feel his warmth, could almost see the scrunch between his eyes as he thought. I could almost smell him.

I tightened my arms around the pillow and inhaled again.

----

“You wanna watch something?” Andrew asks, as he scoots onto the couch next to me.

I pull my knees up so they’re resting in his lap. “Sure. Surprise me – something I haven’t seen yet.”

Andrew quirks a slight smile. It’s that awkward, asymmetrical kind of smile, the one that so wonderfully suits the restless energy he has even now as he snuggles up close and pulls out his phone.

Andrew talks in references the way others talk in idioms. Sometimes I get them. Sometimes I stare blankly at him, and he catches my bewildered expression. “Oh man, you’ve never seen that? It’s going on the list.” Then it’s times like now the list comes out.

“I’m sorry; I can’t decide,” he declares after a moment, and pushes the phone at me. “What do you want?”

I skim the list. “How about Indiana Jones?”

Usually the thought of Harrison Ford would make Andrew light up, but when he smiles this time, it’s sad. I find his hand and give it a squeeze.

“Okay,” he says.

---

I started the list based on the references in the show or the comics that Andrew would make and I didn’t know. It grew to references he made in fanworks; then the list grew to include anything I simply thought he’d like and I hadn’t seen.

Star Wars, James Bond, Ghostbusters, Men In Black, Jurassic Park.

It began in Montreal, movie nights in the apartment softly lit by multicolored fairy lights. Friends passed around “Andrillow” as the pillow-sweatshirt-stuffed animal conglomeration had been named, laughing, hugging, hiding behind his mass of fluff when dinosaurs jumped out of the shadows.

Later, on the other side of the ocean, it was just me and the pillow. But movie nights with a pillow can be surprisingly healing when you’re struggling to adjust.

Back to the Future, Battlestar Gallactica, Footloose, Mission Impossible, Jaws.

I curled up against the plush of Andrew’s chest and propped the laptop up in front of us. One of the sleeves of his sweatshirt tangled around my arm. I felt a rush of softness, and I thought of the hormonal changes one undergoes as a result of experiencing reliable social support and fondness and love – increased serotonin and oxytocin and reduced cortisol in response to stress. I wondered, if one were to sample my saliva, what would the effects be of pillow hugs and sharing in the interests of a fictional character?

Maybe a test would find me aptly in love. Maybe there would be measurable effect on my hormone levels, but not as strong as it would be with a flesh-and-bone partner. Maybe there would be nothing at all. But in Leeds, where underwhelming days melted together and movie nights with a pillow were a regular heartbeat of happiness that kept it all alive, I had to think there would be something.

---

Andrew usually has many opinions about the movies we watch. Oh, he’s good about not talking over the movie; he would never want to compromise a movie-watching experience like that. But I can see his reactions in his body language, in the way he tenses or relaxes or leans forward or shifts his weight.

Today, he’s barely watching. When I try to hold his hand, he fidgets restlessly; we finish our tea and he goes to make more without pausing the movie.

“What did you think?” I ask when the credits roll.

---

Andrew’s not real. I know that, of course. I feel his unrealness most in his silence.

Andrew is so defined by his words, by his passions and opinions and stories. But to hear them, I write – contemplate his perspectives on media I know only tangentially, painstakingly word them in his voice. There are only so many words I can write for a storyteller before I make him obsolete. I write and create and imagine and examine, and the more I build Andrew’s character in my head, the less real he feels. He is no longer his own; he is an entity of my imagination and biases. That is not whom I love.

But then there were comics that wrote him in a pen other than my own, and in the smallest details I would never have considered, I fell in love again. I wouldn’t have given him polo shirts or boaters shoes – and oh, the watch! I was so bowled over by that watch; such a small detail, so not me. I could imagine it was pure Andrew, and I loved him for that damn watch.

There were of course the out-of-character moments, but there were also just the moments that pushed my expectations, and how I loved him for each. In Pieces on the Ground tells me we’d argue about the merits of media piracy. I’ve considered what moments of tension we might have, but what a gift to have an unexpected disagreement. I’ve cried over new issues in which Andrew appears, because those are the moments where the realness of Andrew would be the most poignant; one short appearance of a handful of panels would protect him from being consumed by my own imagination for months.

I still ache to hear him talk. To hear him ramble, to see his eyes light up as he tells me about the nuances of comics I’ve never read, to hear his opinions, to learn more about him. For him to teach me who it is I love.

But he is not real.

---

We fall into a heavy silence. Our second cups of tea are finished; the television is dark.

I feel my chest ache. I’ve anticipated this moment, but it still sucks. My eyes prickle at the corners, and I squeeze them shut. I lean into Andrew’s shoulder; he wraps an arm around me.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs into my hair.

“We always knew there was an expiration date,” I tell him. “It could never be forever.”

“I know, but…”

He trails off. I twist a hand in his shirt. Fuck, I hate to let go of all of this. To let go of this source of joys, of inspirations, of support, of tenderness. My head spins with all the points of my life he has touched: hundreds of thousands of words of writing, a novel, drawing, embroidery, baking, secondhand joy at the Star Wars merchandise in every grocery store, friendships –

I exhale. “This was an incredible run. I don’t regret a damn thing.”

“You’re going to be great.”

I nod haltingly, then pull back and let Andrew’s arm slip off my shoulder. “Thank you. I really did love you.”

“I know.”

I give him a small smile and squeeze his hand.

It’s time to let go.

#personal log #andrew my ashayam #i can feel your pulse in the pages

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imagineclaireandjamie · 7 years

Text

Flood my Mornings: Plymouth Trace

Notes from Mod Bonnie:

This story takes place in an AU in which Jamie travels through the stones two years after Culloden and finds Claire and his child in 1950 Boston.

See all past installments via Bonnie’s Master List

Previous installment: Liberty and License (A trip to the DMV)

PLYMOUTH TRACE

Later that same afternoon September, 1950

“Daddy!!!”

I parked Penelope’s car at the curb in front of the house, and got out quickly to see Bree pelting down the front stairs toward Jamie, who had stepped out of the ‘49 Ford he’d pulled carefully into the driveway. He’d been doubling back to come greet me, but hearing his daughter’s squeals, he turned and crouched down in the grass for interception.

Bree, however, was far more excited about the new car. Instead of flinging herself into Jamie’s arms, she made a sharp left and thudded herself into the front passenger door with both hands. Liking the sound immensely, she began pummeling the door further, jumping up and down and shrieking with giggles as she did so.

“No-no-no, a nighean,” Jamie said sharply as he reached her and grabbed both her hands away.

Bree jumped, startled and horrified by his harsh tone. Jamie was so unfailingly gentle with her, always, that for a moment, I thought she was going to burst out into tears. Jamie realized this, too, and quickly released her hands, laying one of his own against the gleaming paint of the car door. “Now, wee Bree, ye mustna hit our Bonnie. Ye wouldna wish to hurt her feelings by thrashing her about, aye?”

“Bonnie?” I laughed, incredulous as I came to stand with Mrs. Byrd, “Is that its name??”

“‘Tis her name,” Jamie said with dignity, though I could see the corner of his mouth twitching. To Bree, he encouraged, “Can ye say ‘hello’ to Bonnie Blue?”

Without missing a beat, Bree took a step back and waved at the car. “Hiiii-lo, Bobbie bloo!”

We all laughed and Jamie kissed her cheek. “Aye, that’s right, cub. We all must be verra gentle and sweet to Miss Bonnie so she lasts a good long while.”

Bree looked pensive for a moment, considering, then walked forward to lay an unutterably delicate kiss on the driver’s door.

“‘Inna laff-me!” she scolded as we all did. She pointed a stern finger at Jamie, then the car. “M’kissie, Da.”

Jamie opened his mouth to decline, then removed his hat and laid a soft kiss on the handle. “How’s that, cub?” he asked Bree with a grin.

“’S’okay,” she said with a curt nod, rising on tiptoes to peer in the side mirror.

Jamie laughed, standing, “She’ll keep a man verra humble, one day, that one.”

Jamie was like a bronze statue behind the wheel, impeccable and sure in his movement. It was the deliberateness, the same steeled concentration in his eye that he’d used in battle. At the wheel, he used it to be cautious, careful, erring on the side of slowness for the sake of accuracy. Still, while we were puttering along at about the same speed as an octogenarian on foot, the set of his jaw made him look so…

“Damn me, but you do look sexy doing that, Jamie.”

“Oh, aye?” he said, not taking his eye from the road, but the corners of his mouth crooked downward: a suppressed smile.

“Indeed, you do,” I confirmed matter-of-factly, scooting closer to him on the wide seat and reaching out a delicate finger to trace his arm. “Positively rakish.”

“More so than when I’m about other activities?”

“Oh, in terms of sexiness, this is ranking in your top five activities, to be sure,” I said, with mock solemnity.

He snorted. “Not that I’m no’ sensible of the compliment, but I canna quite see how turning a steering wheel should be at all rousing to ye.”

“Welll….” I kept my face intentionally composed, tracing the tendons of his right hand, feeling the strength in them as they grasped the self-same wheel. “Do you…happen to know what the kids do, when they ‘go for a drive’?”

“Other than getting to their intended destination, ye mean?”

“The destination is everything,” I said dramatically, walking my fingers up his arm. “They find a secluded spot to park the car…” I leaned forward and breathed in his ear, “…and then set about to…. not enjoy the scenery.”

He shivered at my touch and his fingers tightened a bit on the steering wheel but he didn’t seem in the least bit shocked. “Aye, seems reasonable, there being fewer cow byres and springhouses to which the youngsters might secrete themselves.”

“Oh-ho! And just who was young Jamie Fraser secreting with in cow byres, might I ask?”

“And I might just as easily inquire with whom it was that ye *didna* enjoy the scenery, Sassenach…” he said sardonically.

“Oh, really!” I swatted him, making him laugh and playfully swat me back. “Teenagers didn’t have cars when I was at the cavorting age, you oaf! Movies,” I drawled, seeing his puzzlement. “Lovers’ Lanes are common spots for young people to—” Ahah, how to explain this one? “—get murdered in gory films.”

“Jesus CHRIST, Sassenach,” Jamie said in alarm, taking his eye from the road a moment to give me a look of deep revulsion. “Folk enjoy seeing young couples getting—killed?”

“They’re not all about people getting—Oh never mind, I will get you to the cinema eventually, but anyway, I also happen to know more about driving dates than I’d wish because I have the joy of being a compulsory member of the debriefing committee for Della O’ Malley’s courting escapades.”

“Ah, our wee Della,” Jamie sighed ruefully, turning right. “She must get herself marrit, soon, or she’ll end up so entangled she’ll need to be pruned,” he laughed. “So…whereabouts is the ‘Lovers’ Lane’ in these parts, then?”

“Oh, there are many, I’m sure. But Della’s favorite was in a huge copse of willow trees near the big creek off of Plymouth Tra—”

And before my eyes, not two seconds later, the car rattled merrily onto none other… than Plymouth Trace.

“What was it ye were saying, Sassenach?”

“Why, you presumptuous wee bastard! How the bloody hell did you know?”

The wee bastard in question grinned devilishly, chancing a glance away from the road. “The lads at Fernacre as about as eager to crow about their escapades as Miss O’Malley. I figured it would be fitting to take our Bonnie here on her first trip.”

“You talk bout her like she’s our child,” I giggled.

“Dinna listen to her, Bonnie,” Jamie crooned, patting her (“HER!” pah!) fondly on the dashboard. “You’re part o’ the family now.”

We pulled into the arbor, carefully, slowly and came to rest between two of the trees that stood close together. I couldn’t help gasping as I opened the door and tripped out between the fluttering curtains of yellow-green. There were perhaps twenty willows, scattered around a lazy bend in a wide, sweet creek; tall ones, with their fronds waving gracefully in the late-afternoon breezes.

Della liked this spot, I knew, for the seclusion it provided in the dark of the evening. In the afternoon, with sunlight dappling between the leaves, though, it was—

“Breathtaking…”

“My thoughts exactly,” came a soft, low voice at my shoulder as his arm came around my waist.

“Flatterer,” I grinned.

“No,” he whispered, pressing me back against the side rear of car, his eyes dark with feeling.

I melted into him, reaching hungrily for his mouth as he reached for mine. I could feel the sun-warmed panels hot through my skirt as he pressed me into them, his mouth, his hands, his entire body insistent against mine.

I could feel my body rising to his, my blood pounding furiously in every vessel, crying out to him.

Jamie. My Jamie.

“Does it ever stop?” I panted, “the wanting you?”

“No,” he whispered with a soft laugh before taking my mouth again. “Never.”

A long, fevered string of moments later, Jamie’s hand left my neck (though the other continued to roam freely. A moment later I heard the springing CLONK of the rear door latch releasing. “Get inside,” he whispered hoarsely. “I’ve got to have you now.”

“In the…? I thought we were supposed to ‘be gentle to Bonnie.’”

“Oh, aye, wi’ Bonnie I’ll be gentle…. Wi’ you—” He latched his mouth into the crease of my neck and chuckled darkly as I groaned with the rush of sensation. “Now… get inside.”

I had his trousers down around his ankles in a jiffy, leaving him exposed. “Kick off your shoes,” I whispered urgently. He tried but got tangled up, and had to bend down to extricate himself. I took the opportunity to spread our picnic blanket over the back seat and clamber in.

Jamie joined me a minute later, bare-arsed, pulling the door shut behind him. He knelt before me on the floor, running his hands up under the skirt of my dress. He was smiling, but I could tell he was done with kidding around.

“You’re wearing far too many clothes, mo nighean donn,” he whispered, nuzzling my thighs, “far too many.”

While my vision was obscured by my dress flying up over my head, he set to work between my legs, eliciting a moan that surely shook the vines surrounding us. “Oh….Jamie….”

I heard—no, felt—him laugh against me, not slowing his pace one bit. It seemed hardly moments before I cried, “Ja—Jamie—I’m going—to—”

And I did, my vision going lilac with energy as i melted under his touch.

He didn’t wait long. With remarkable economy of motion, he pulled me down against him and whirled us around so that I was sitting astride him on the seat. My head almost brushed the roof but that hardly mattered. I was dizzy, spinning as I was curling my entire body around him, bending my head to him, needing more even as I throbbed.

We slid together with a sigh that seemed to emit from us both. I could feel the car rocking softly back and forth with us as I rode him, hard and desperately.

"Sassenach...." he moaned, his head pressed hard into my shoulder as he gripped my hips so hard I knew I would bruise and moved me harder, deeper, faster. One hand slid further down and used his thumb to bring me to the brink again and we were crying out together, pulsing against each other to get one more moment, one more bolt of our common magic.

When we were both spent, he let his head fall back and I slumped against him, wrapping my arms slowly around his neck, both of us one sweaty, quivering heap. The sun beamed through the rear window, bathing our still-one flesh in blissful warmth and light. I took the opportunity to study him while his eyes were closed. His hair was short and arranged, and his clothes, wherever they were, were different, but he was still the lad–the achingly sweet, caring lad–who had slept outside my door to keep away brigands in the night. So pure and loving…so…exquisite. The lines of his face; the hollows of cheek and temple; the smile that tugged at his lips even as he heaved with exhaustion. Glowing in the sunlight, he looked so beautiful, I truly wanted to cry.

I opened my mouth to tell him so, but just at that moment, he spoke. “There’s a good lass.”

I thought he was addressing me, so it came as quite a surprise then he thumped not my bare arse but the seat beside us. “If this be the time we conceive, we’ll keep ye in mind when we name the bairn.”

“You’re ridiculous,” I murmured against his mouth, barely managing it, widely as I was grinning.

“Aye,” he laughed, a little sheepishly, wrapping his arms snugly around my hips. “I’ll try to be more dignif—”

I stopped his ridiculous mouth with another kiss.

#Flood my mornings #;mod bonnie #sorry this should have been more smutty #but I just didna have the strength

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eastofthemoon · 7 years

Text

Where No One Goes- Chapter 11

Title: Where No One Goes: Chapter 11 - Part 2 of What If The Storm Ends?

Series: Voltron: Legendary Defender

Characters: Keith, Thace, Shiro, Pidge, Lance, Hunk, Coran, and Allura

Rating: G

Summary: After Keith’s encounter Thace, questions remain and he’s not certain he wants the answers to them. However, after Pidge’s request to locate the rebels, the two of them seek out the resistance with both of them not certain what they will find out.

Archive of our Own

Keith felt another wave of satisfaction as Red destroyed another ship. So far, everything was going to plan for once. They had taken down a fair number of ships, and most of the rebels had been able to flee the planet.

There were a couple of close calls after Lance and Blue’s attack on the ship that slipped through, but it seemed to be under control now. His fingers stroked the hilt of the dagger that sat next to him.

“Thace should be gone by now,” he muttered.

“Kid! Keith, do you read me!?” Ford’s voice shouted over the headset.

Keith jumped and tapped the communication button on the panel to respond.

“Ford?” Keith asked in shock. “I thought you left with Thace?”

The paladins had granted the rebels the ability to contact the lions directly in case of an emergency. The fact that Ford was using it left a queasy feeling in Keith’s stomach.

“In the process to, Kid,” Ford sharply replied. “But Thace isn’t with me!”

Keith’s eyes widened in alarm. “What?! But he’s-”

“Droids had gotten into one of the tunnels and Thace went to deal with it,” Ford explained. “He said he took them out, but then he got cut off and he won’t respond. I’m certain something’s happened.”

Keith cursed. “And you can’t get to him?”

“We’ve already taken off, there was no time to go back,” Ford replied, and Keith could hear the static in the radio. “I’m hoping you can reach him. I’m sending you his last known coordinates.”

Keith saw a message appeared on the screen and he instantly clicked on it. His eyes narrowed. It wasn’t far from where he was.

“I’ll find him,” Keith vowed. “Leave it to me.”

Ford gave a sigh as more static was heard over the link. “Thanks, Kid and...good luck.”

Keith could hear nothing else as static took over. He let out a curse as he turned Red around.

“Shiro,” Keith spoke into this helmet. “Thace is in trouble, I have to go and help him.”

“What do you mean?” Pidge asked. “What happened?”

“I’ll explain later,” Keith said. “But I need to go now.”

“Alright, but be careful,” Shiro replied. “Call us if you need backup. Everyone else, stay focus and alert. Once we get the signal from the last rebel ship we’re getting out of here!”

Keith would have replied to confirm, but his mind was too focussed on flying. Red gave a roar as they flew at top speed.

Thace, you better be alive or I’m never going to forgive you!” Keith swore, silently.

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Thace was finding it difficult to keep his stamina the longer the fight dragged on. His wound was throbbing and there was no opening for him to escape. Even if he did, the droids were ready to fire on him. Prorok was secured this fight would have one winner and the odds weren’t in Thace’s favor.

He grunted as he ducked another blow and attempted to block with his dagger. Prorok snarled as he drew his face closer.

“I can’t help, but notice you’re not using your regular dagger,” Prorok sneered. “Did you lose it when you after you betrayed us and fled!”

“None. Of. Your. Concern!” Thace roared as he used all of his strength to push Prorok back.

The commander staggered slightly and lost his footing as he feel to one knee. Thace raised his dagger, but Prorok tripped him with his leg and knocked Thace to the ground. In an eyeblink, Prorok pounced on Thace and pinned him to the ground. Thace growled and dug his fingers into the ground as Prorok held the dagger to his throat.

“You going to kill me?” Thace spat.

“Hardly, you’re more useful to Zarkon alive,” Prorok taunted and as he gave a nod to his droids. “However, having you be shot at a few times will insure you are unable to fight before I drag you to my ship.”

The droids raised their blasters to aim. Thace took a deep breath and braced himself for a wave of immense pain.

A thundering roar caused the droids to raise their heads and for Prorok turn his head in shock. Thace blinked stunned as the Red Lion flew straight towards them. Before either Galran could say a word, the Red Lion shot a blast of fire at them.

Prorok gave a yelp of surprise as he rolled out of the way. Thace remained where he was as the fire shot over him and hit the droids. Thace braced himself from the heat of the blast and saw Prorok ducked behind a boulder to do the same.

Another shot blast at the other droids as the lion landed and then gave another roar. Thace scrambled at his feet and wasn’t certain if he was angry or relieved to see Keith run out of the cockpit towards him.

“What are you doing here?!” he snapped at him as he limped.

“Saving your hide,” Keith said as he reached for Thace’s arm. “Or did you want to get killed?”

“You took a big risk coming here-” Thace began, but his lecture evaporated as Prorok emerged from behind the bolder while swinging his sword straight to Keith.

“Behind you!” Thace said.

Keith summoned the sword from his bayard and spun around. He blocked Prorok’s dagger from cutting his nose off. Prorok laughed as Keith struggled under the commander’s weight.

“I find myself a traitor, and a paladin of Voltron,” he sneered as he pushsed Keith back a few steps. “Zarkon will be pleased with me.”

“Fat chance of that happening!” Keith growled back.

Thace seized the dagger he had dropped on the ground.

“You are a boy!” Prorok laughed. “You believe you can fight me off by yourself?!”

“He’s hardly by himself!” Thace cried as he lunged and stabbed the dagger into Prorok’s leg.

The Galran commander cried out in pain as Thace kept his grip and dug in the blade. Keith used the chance to kick Prorok back with his left leg. Thace yanked his dagger out as Prorok tumbled backwards and hit his head against the boulder.

Thace panted as he and Keith watched Prorok slump against the rock and fell face first into the dirt.

“Dare I ask who he is?” Keith asked as he kneeled to lend Thace a shoulder.

“Later,” Thace said as he leaned against Keith. “We need to leave before he wakes up.”

Thace had a brief thought of taking his dagger and finishing off Prorok for good, but he was too injured.

Besides, Thace thought. Having the Red Lion here will lure in the other ships. We don’t have long before they arrive.

Keith wrapped Thace’s arm around him and led him inside the Red Lion. The door shut behind him as they entered the cockpit and Keith set him near the pilot chair. He bumped against it slightly, which aggravated the wound and he grunted in pain.

Keith kneeled as he checked Thace over. “That looks bad.”

“I’ve been in worse,” Thace replied, which wasn’t a lie. “Nevermind me, get flying.”

Keith’s eyes hardened like he was tempted to argue, but the boy sighed as moved into the pilot seat. “Hang on, things could get a bit bumpy,” he warned.

Thace nodded as he leaned back. With adrenaline leaving his body, the agony of his injuries were increasing. “How did you know I was in trouble?” he asked.

“Ford sent me a message,” Keith said as the Red Lion took to the air.

“Ah,” Thace said as he shut his eyes. “Should have known.”

“Coran, listen,” he heard Keith speak into his helmet. “I’m going to need a healing pod ready when I get there...No, no, it’s not me, it’s Thace.” He heard a sigh. “Yes, I have Thace, Shiro. It’s a long story.”

Thace went to shift his weight to make himself more comfortable and suddenly realized he was still clutching Keith’s dagger in his hands and sighed.

I guess this means we’ll be exchanging daggers sooner than expected.

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By the time Keith and Red Lion rejoined the group, the other rebels had fled and it was time for team Voltron to do the same. The rest had happened so fast.

Thace didn’t talk much as Keith flew Red Lion back to the castle. Keith was getting more concerned with each passing second it was a sign the Galran was getting worse. As soon as the lion flew into the Castle of Lions, they fled the planet and went through a wormhole before the remaining Galra ships tried to follow.

Coran had a healing pod set and ready to go. Keith noticed both him and Allura exchanged awkward glances as Keith let Thace lean on him to walk. He sincerely doubt Thace would let anyone actually carry him, but at the rate they walked, with Thace limping, it was going to take forever to get there.

Keith had never been so grateful when Hunk appeared and took Thace’s other arm to speed up the process. He wasn’t able to see Shiro’s expression, but Keith had a feeling seeing a Galran on their homebase did not make their leader comfortable.

Before long, Thace was set in the healing pod and Keith went to shut it, but not before Thace slipped his dagger back to him.

“I will...say,” Thace whispered, “I did not expect to give it back to you this soon.”

Keith opened, but then shut his mouth as he gave a nod before shutting the healing pod. He sighed and rubbed his eyes as Thace went into a deep sleep before turning to Coran.

This had not be the outcome he’d been expecting.

“Is he going to be okay?” Keith asked as he saw the other paladins and Allura enter.

“It will take a day or so,” Coran said as he tapped the monitor. “But he should be restored to full health with no problems.”

“Uh, great,” Hunk said as he rubbed his neck. “So...what do we do when he wakes up? Help him get back to the rebels?”

Pidge winced. “That will be a little tricky since the resistance didn’t exactly leave us a contact number.”

“Yeah,” Lance said as he looked to Keith. “How did you know Thace was in trouble anyway?”

“Ford contacted me and I went to investigate,” Keith said as he folded his arms. “But he didn’t tell me how to contact them afterwards.”

“Best we can do now is just wait and see what happens,” Shiro stated and looked to Allura. “Leah did mention she was interested in forming an alliance with us, so I imagine they will try to get in touch with us.”

Allura smiled and nodded. “In that case, we’ll simply treat Thace like we would any other guest. We know for certain he means us no harm, so him staying with us until the resistance comes for him shouldn’t be a problem.”

Keith chewed his bottom lip. He had wanted to ask Thace questions, but that had been on the belief he could escape back to the castle if he became overwhelmed by the answers. It was harder to do so with him on the ship.

And what about Shiro? Keith thought as he glanced to him. Is he going to be okay with a Galran on the ship?

Shiro’s face was unreadable, but he did seem to not trying to be looking directly at Thace.

There was a squeeze at Keith’s hand and he glanced to see Pidge was the culprit.

“It’s going to be okay,” she whispered. “At least you don’t have to worry about him running off on you, right?”

Keith gave a small smile and nodded. “Yeah, there’s that at least,” he whispered.

“In the meantime,” Coran said as he cleared his throat. “That was quite the battle and I believe some recuperation is in order.”

“Sounds good,” Hunk said as he rotated his shoulder. “I’m in desperate need of a shower and food.”

“Excellent!” Coran said as he began to lead a way. “I got a proper feast set out for you all-”

“He meant a normal meal, Coran,” Lance exclaimed as they trailed after him.

“It is very ‘normal’,” Coran continued, “especially if you’re from the planet Amerath.”

A series of groans was heard. Pidge gave Keith a small wave before chasing after the others. Keith remained where he was as he turned to look back at Thace, but then heard footsteps and realized Shiro had stayed too.

“Hey, you okay, Buddy?” Shiro asked as he placed a hand over his shoulder.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” Keith asked with a look. “Can’t imagine having Thace here on your home turf is..easy for you.”

Shiro gave a forced smile, but his eyes looked exhausted. “I’ll adjust,” he said. “I know logically he doesn’t want to hurt us but...takes awhile to actually know that, you know?”

Keith nodded and leaned against his foster brother. Shiro could say that with a regular Galran...but...if Keith was what he thought he was, would Shiro still accept him?

“What’s wrong, Keith?” Shiro asked as he wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “That worried about Thace?”

“No, it’s..” Keith started and shook his head. “No, it’s nothing..at least nothing I can talk about right now.”

Shiro raised an eyebrow, but kept his mouth shut as he steered the two of them towards the door. “Let’s go get cleaned up.” He gave a laugh. “Don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

Keith nodded as he stole one more glance at Thace before returning his gaze back ahead. He would get his answers soon enough, but until then, there was no point dwelling about the unknown.

Keith wrapped his fingers around the hilt of his own dagger. When Thace woke up, there was no turning back for either of them.

End of Part 2

Author’s Note:

And that's the end of part 2. I know it didn't have all the reveals people have been waiting for, but I promise you all everything is going to come to a head in part 3.

The reason for that is because this story had enough going on, and once we get to the actual connection between Thace and Keith I just felt it would overtake the whole story, and part 2 had enough going on with everyone else. Thus, I felt that plot point needed it's own separate story. This story was mainly for letting a chance for all the characters to have a moment. Part 3 will mostly be focussed on Keith and Thace again.

As for part 3, I'm not posting it yet since I'm not finish it, and I rather have the whole story complete so I can give you guys the regular updates you're use to for this. With that said, I am more than halfway done part 3 so hopefully you all won't have to wait too long for it.

In the meantime, while you wait, if you wish to send me questions about this AU to my tumblr feel free.

I won't answer anything too spoilery, but if you want to poke me questions about the rebels, what my headcanons for the world is or even that Thace was like as a young rebel, etc go right ahead.

Thank you all for sticking with this series! It pleases me so much that you guys are enjoying it as much as I am writing it. ^_^

#thace #galra keith #keith kogane #voltron #vld #fanfic

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torisfeather · 6 years

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The bus station was crowded, that Saturday morning. The girls were running to the dress rental shop, and the boys to the costumes. The romantics were flower-shopping for their partners. The first real party of the year was an event at the academy, and even the new kids understood that.

The shuttle was struggling to carry all the students, there weren't enough seats for everyone. Romano, brought there by his brother, had shown off his best curses when the driver asked them to step out and to wait for the next trip. Feliciano was also a little disappointed but waiting was not that much of a problem to him.

So they were several kids waiting for the bus to unload its passengers into town and come back to take them next. Romano was sulking, as always, and Feliciano was in the middle of a seducing Sophie, a young second-year Monegasque who gave amused answers to all of his pick-up lines. There was also Elizaveta, kind of pissed by the waiting the shuttle had imposed on them, Kiku, the Japanese boy who was apparently appointed "official shipping club camera-man" considering the large camera hanging around his neck, and half a dozen other impatient students.

Everyone turned to the road with hopeful eyes as they heard the sound of an engine coming their way, but to their surprise, it wasn't the shuttle that parked in front of the dorm building. It was a black ordinary Ford, the kind that could belong to any citizen. Had they been anywhere else in the world, the students would have thought that was a kid's parents coming for an appointment with the principals. Except they were at Hetako Academy and seeing a car outside the town was as normal as seeing white tigers in New York. Curious whispers drifted around the students as the car came and parked just a few feet away.

Two businessman-like men with suits, ties and leather suitcases wiggled out the front seats. Give them sunglasses, futuristic guns and a laser and they would be perfect Men in Black. They probably tried to be stealthy with their townsman car but it would have been hard to be any more suspicious.

One of them opened the backseat door and a young boy jump out like a spring. He was barely out before he stretched with a pained wince. "Seriously, guys, you need to do something about the seats. Sleeping in here was hell," he grumbled as he bended himself in every direction to crack his joints.

The two men in suits didn't answer and powerwalked past the students' inquisitive looks towards the academy's front door. The boy didn't follow, he just started to jump up and down on his heels, looking around like he was wondering what to do. He was about thirteen or fourteen years old, had reddish hair, a strange angular curl and the academy's uniform. A cry sounded among the students at the bus stop. "Ah! It's Romeo!"

And everybody minus the first years started whispering about him hurriedly. Feliciano turned to the kids around him, looking lost. "Veveve, what, who?"

"Romeo. He's a second year. He disappeared at the beginning of summer without a warning and the principles didn't explain anything," someone said to him. "I hear he ran away."

If it was the case, he looked rather happy to be back. His eyes scanned his surrounding like he was looking for something and he had a large smile on his lips. He did not look like a runaway. His uniform was clean, slightly crumpled by his night in the car but still in a good state, his hair was combed and he seemed healthy. His eyes suddenly stopped on the group waiting for the bus and his smile grew larger as he ran up to the students who didn't know how to react.

"Wow, everyone, I missed you guyyyyyys!" he exclaimed, grabbing anyone he could put his hands on, especially the girls. When he faced the Italian twins, there was like a pause as all three of the shared a gaze. Two older ones thought there was something very familiar about the boy but couldn't tell what it was. "Well, I see we have new faces! What are your names?" he said eventually.

They introduced themselves and both received a greeting hug. Feliciano was glad. Romano wasn't. Then Romeo turned as he seemed to look for someone that he found very quickly. "Sophie!" he shrieked, throwing himself at the Monegasque. "How are you? Did you miss me?"

He didn't let her answer and stuck a beautiful kiss on her lips. A couple of kids catcalled them. Sophie quickly recovered from the surprise and firmly pushed him away. He took a step back but kept holding her waist. She wasn't smiling, her expression a perfect poker face.

"You are still beautiful," he complimented with a wink.

She squinted at this, like she was thinking intensely, but the rest of her body didn't move. She needed a moment to answer. "Thanks."

Romeo smiled sheepishly and ran a hand through his hair before scratching the back of his head. "You're mad?"

"Yes."

"Oh. And what can I do for you to forgive me?"

She went quiet for a few moments which he took advantage of to snuggle up to her and kiss her forehead with fondness. "Tell me what happened."

He laughed nervously and looked away. "I can't."

"Why?"

"Because I'm not allowed to. I could tell you but I'd have to come up with something and you'd know right away that I'm telling bullshit and we'd fight and you wouldn't let me celebrate coming back tonight and…"

"Okay, okay, stop," she interrupted, blushing and a few snickered around them.

He laughed and played with a lock of stray ash-blond hair that fell out of her braid. Then he stopped and stared at her breasts. "Wait, isn't that the bra I got y…"

A slap to the face cut him short. "Romeo! What was the deal?!" she cried furiously, stomping out of his embrace.

"Ahah, sorry, I forgot," he said, rubbing his cheek."

"What was the deal?!"

"No x-ray vision outside of lessons," he replied with a bored look. "Sorry, Sophie, I won't forget again, promise."

She didn't answer, going back to her poker face. She turned her back on him, pretending to ignore him. Romeo sighed loudly but his playful smile grew back almost instantly. "If that's what you're worried about," he said charmingly, "I didn't look at any other girl while I was away…"

She stayed perfectly still for almost a minute, like she hadn't heard him. But eventually, she held out her hand to him without looking back and he held it with a knowing smile. "Lier…" she whispered.

"Not at all and you know it," he replied, snaking his free arm around her shoulders.

They argued a little more until someone in the group stopped them in favor of asking Romeo to tell where he had been all this time. Romeo refused with a grin, claiming that it was a secret, but the other students joined in and, quickly, the entire group was begging him loudly. There was a short respite when the shuttle finally arrived but, once they were in the bus, they all started asking again. After all, it was exceptional for the principles to allow a school trip outside the campus's limits, so it was absolutely phenomenal for a student to leave for over two months.

"Okay, okay, fine," he conceded after at least fifty demands.

He stood in the middle of the bus to make sure everyone would hear him, pleased with all the attention the whole thing was bringing him.

"So here's the story," he announced. "My grandma died at the beginning of summer and I absolutely had to attend the funeral. My mom called the principles to ask them if I could spend the vacations with her, to comfort her, you know? At first they refused but my mom can be super convincing. She has tons of family in Italy and they could do a vendetta if she asked. So the principles said I could spend a week with her but no more, so you guys wouldn't hear about it. And I had to keep it secret or everyone would want to do the same and it had to stay an exception. But my mom outwit them. I went to Grandma's funeral, the week passed but instead of sending me back here she took me on a car trip around Italy and France. It was great, we'd never spend two nights in the same town, it was like a spy movie! Since I wasn't coming back, the principle sent those two gentlemen you saw after me but they couldn't find me until last Monday. The thing is I hadn't realized school had started again so I was pretty happy they found us. So… Yeah, that's how I spent my vacation!"

Everyone cheered and Romeo bowed like an actor who just played the role of his life. He went back to sit down next to Sophie who was looking absently through the window. "What did you think of my story?" he whispered.

"I wasn't listening," she answered just as quietly. "I'm not interested in lies."

"I thought you liked my stories."

"Stories. Not lies." He laughed and kissed her cheek. She smiled and blushed a little. "You dirty lier."

"But you like that about me, don't you?"

She didn't answer but leaned onto his shoulder, swearing to herself that she'd make him spit the truth out sooner or later.

If there was one thing Young Soo was adamant about, it was how necessary it was to have K-pop music for a party to be good. And he did not accept that Ling, the appointed DJ, wouldn't play any. So he had written a formal demand to the principles in order to be allowed to choose a few songs.

But just when he was about to knock on Gaia's office's door, he heard voices inside. Two men and two women, and all seemed extremely tense. His curiosity took over the rest, he pressed his ear to the panel to listen. The wood was thick and he couldn't get all the words but he made out most of the muffled conversation.

- … absolutely unacceptable!" said Luna's voice, obviously angry. "Your part of the deal was always clear!"

"No need to blame us," one of the two men firmly answered. "We are only telling you about the council's decision. Please understand we are not trying to upset you."

"Well so much for that," Gaia sighed, almost to herself.

"You can probably guess our answer," Luna continues. "Gentlemen, I believe you know where the door is…"

The other man raised his voice. "Miss Chrones! Maybe this wasn't clear at first but I'll be a little more explicit: this is not a favor we are asking but an order you both have to follow in accordance to the contract that, may I remind you, you both signed. So please stop wasting our time!"

"You can shove that contract up your…"

"Luna!" Gaia exclaimed. "That's enough, calm down."

There was a long moment of silence and Young Soo figured out that the principles were whispering with each other. The two men didn't react, waiting patiently for them to finish their debate. After a few minutes, there was a very long sigh and the sound of a chair scraping the floor.

"Very well. We'll fulfill your request in accordance with the contract," Luna said. She spat the last word like an insult but nobody called her out for it.

"Thank you for your cooperation," said the first man with a monotonous voice. "Please be assured of our utmost esteem."

"Right, now get out."

That was Gaia's voice and before he could step back the door suddenly turned, making him fall forward. Gaia, her hand on the handle, threw a fit of laughter when he fell face first on the floor of her office. Her sister and visitors looked slightly less pleased about the presence of this spy. The men stood, throwing a rebuking look towards the older woman, and left like everything was normal, stepping over the Korean boy's body as he was too scared to stand up again. He sent a pleading look towards Luna and winced at her furious expression.

"I guess I don't get my request either?" Her brows knitted together. He stood and dusted his pants.

"You won't tell anyone about this conversation, right?" Gaia said with a peaceful smile.

"Pr-promise."

She stepped away from the door and he didn't wait for an invitation to run out, ashamed of being caught spying.

Tino was waiting on a chair, next to a still and silent Berwald. He did not know what to do. It had been two weeks. Two weeks that Berwald had been following him everywhere, or been making him follow him outside his lessons. Two weeks that he'd been trying to tell him he was creeped out by a stranger doing that to him. But to no use. Each time he started talking about that, Berwald would have this terrifying expression and he'd start stuttering apologies when he wasn't too scared to even talk. He really didn't know what to do.

"Sorry for the delay! I found it!"

Tino jumped and looked up. The shopkeeper had just come back from the stockroom and was proudly dangling a light grey costume in front of him, along with a dark shirt and a tie. Tino stood to go and try it on. The tie was too short and the pants would fall on his shoes. When he stepped out of the changing room, Berwald gave him another one of his scary looks and Tino shivered but the shopkeeper stepped close. The Finnish boy didn't really see what she did but when she stepped back again with a satisfied smile the entire costume fit him perfectly.

"Magic!" she smiled as only explanation. Tino burst out laughing.

When they left the shop, it was almost noon. Tino wanted to go back to the bus station but Berwald offered in his incomprehensible gibberish that they'd stay a little longer. He didn't refuse. It was a nice day, although the wind was blowing, bringing the temperature down to the autumn norm. Compared to what both Nordics had known at home, it was like a heat wave.

They wandered through the streets. Tino was making all the small talk by commenting nervously what he could see, like every time he was alone with Berwald. The taller boy was as mute as usual, only using little "uhums" to communicate. Sometimes, he'd open his mouth to say something but, in those moments, his face was so terrifying Tino would let out a strangled cry and the Swedish boy had second thoughts.

As they walked by a toy store, Tino stopped before a little stuffed animal at the window. It was a small white dog, sitting down, with large black button eyes and a pretty blue ribbon tied around its neck. Tino couldn't repress a fond smile as he looked at this cute furball. He only managed to walk away after a couple minutes. He was going to apologize for the delay when he realized Berwald wasn't there anymore. He looked around, confused and slightly worried, but couldn't see him. That's when something move at the shop window. A shopkeeper moved the cardboard scenery that separated the little scene from the rest of the shop and took the toy he'd been admiring earlier before disappearing again. Tino barely had the time to feel disappointed before Berwald came out of the shop less than a minute later, holding the little dog.

The Swedish giant walked up to him and handed him the stuffed dog, slightly blushing. "F'r you."

Tino took it, looked at it and needed a moment to understand what had happened. His eyes widened when he realized Berwald had just offered him the toy. "Th-that wasn't necessary!" he exclaimed, panicked. "I promise there was no need for a present I… It's too much, it's…"

"You d'n't w'nt it?" Berwald still had that scary expression but, this time, watching closely, Tino could see something like disappointment and felt guilty immediately.

"No! That's not what I meant! It's… It's very pretty, thank you so much I love it, but I… I don't know what to do in exchange, I…" He did not want to owe him anything.

Berwald seemed to calm down from behind his glasses. "It's f'r you. You d'n't h've t' do an'thing."

Tino was hesitant but Berwald was insisting so he couldn't refuse. He looked at the stuffed toy and melted as he watched those big dark eyes. A happy smile settled on his face and he hugged the little dog close. "Thank you," he said.

Berwald watched him as he cuddled the toy silently, a short while, without looking away for even a second. Tino felt a little uneasy under his insistent gaze but pretended he wasn't. "F'ling bett'r?"

"Huh?" Tino looked at him, not sure he got it right.

Berwald looked away, almost… shyly? "You look'd w'rried," he explained vaguely.

"Ah, no, I assure you, I'm fine! Well… Alright, I am a little tense but it's… probably because of school or…"

"Th't's n't wh't your aur' says."

Tino needed a little more time to decipher that sentence. Berwald seemed to be mumbling more and more. "My aura? What do you mean?"

"'t s'ys y'or sc'r'd."

"What?"

Berwald closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "You. 're. Scared," he articulated slowly.

Tino needed a few seconds to piece the whole conversation together. When he finally understood what Berwald was saying, he mentally slapped himself for how slow he was. The Swedish boy could see auras, so he knew for a while now how he was feeling about his company. Well that was one thing down, now he just had to ask for an explanation. Go Tino, you can do it! "It's nothing it's just that I don't understand why… You're following me around all the time… We barely know each other but you suddenly decided we were together and I don't know what to think and I want to know why you're doing this."

"'cause you're m' w'fe."

Tino frowned and pouted. "I'm not a girl. And I… Don't love you."

Berwald went silent for a moment. His eyes seemed deeper here, like the color of the sea. Tino held his gaze, determined not to back off again. He thought to himself that, when you looked at them long enough, Berwald's eyes weren't actually that scary. You could see emotions in their icy color. Right now, there was sadness, surrounded by a halo of determination.

"It's 'kay," he eventually said. Tino didn't answer, he wasn't sure what to say. Berwald didn't wait for an answer and continued : "Wh'n you meet your soul m'te, you c'n f'll 'n l've 'mmediat'ly b't, m'st 'f the t'me, you need t'me t' 'nderst'nd…"

Berwald stopped. Tino couldn't understand a thing he was saying, it showed on his face. He sighed and let it go. Instead, he reached out and slowly touched Tino's hand. He didn't push it away. "Ev'n 'f 't t'kes t'me, ev'n 'f you're n't read' yet, I w'nna stay w'th you. B'cause I've kn'wn s'nce I've m't you…"

Tino thought through Berwald's words. He barely understood half of them, at best, and wasn't sure what he meant by that. Could he really trust him? Berwald barely ever spoke about himself. No, really, Tino didn't know what to think of it.

So he just stopped thinking about it. He held his little stuffed dog close with his right arm and started walking again down the street. "We need to hurry, the next bus is coming soon," he said like the whole conversation never happened.

Berwald was walking close, and there was a reason for that: Tino still hadn't pushed him away.

At the corner of the street, half-hidden behind a flowerpot, Elizaveta was frenetically writing something down on a notepad. "I hope you didn't miss anything," she whispered."

Kiku appeared from behind a trashcan and gently tapped his camera. "It's all in the box, Elizaveta-senpai."

Eduar, Toris and Raivis were alone in the music room. It was kind of like their private hangout, safer than the common room were the Russian boy was bound to be. If someone came to bother them, since they were part of the music club's choir, they could pretend to be practicing so that they'd be left alone. Eduar was surfing on the web, Raivis was reading a comic and Toris was working on his future visions that he'd note down step by step on a sheet of paper.

He'd cross out most of them that kept changing and had to give up on some that were too blurry to mean anything. Up until then, the only really clear image he'd seen was the BTT, obviously planning one of their awful pranks. He was desperately focusing on that one, trying to get details about when it would be time to be careful. He really hoped the three pranksters wouldn't do anything during the party. They'd probably bring some alcohol they found god-knows-where, like every year, but hopefully it wouldn't be anything more…

"Hey, Toris!"

The Lithuanian looked up. Eduar was still focused on his computer but he was sure he was the one who called him. "Yes?"

"You look deep in it, did you see anything interesting?"

Toris took a look at his papers. "I thing the BTT is planning something but I don't know when. There's… Elizaveta who keeps hesitating between a red and a green dress. And I can't see Ivan so maybe he won't be there tonight, but I have no idea why. Oh, and it's raining tomorrow."

"No Ivan tonight? Cool! We'll finally be able to party!" Toris smiled. Eduar was joking of course. Both of them were very introverted when it came to parties. "Do you think the BTT will bring drinks, like last time? I'll ask the girls to take pictures of the "shota" this time."

"I can hear you, you know?" protested said "shota" looking up from his comic.

This time, Toris laughed. "Shota" was what people called Raivis after the shipping club tried to match him with someone, the previous year. His two makeshift friends had heard the term in the yaoists' mouth and kept using it ever since. Although Raivis was the youngest of the three, he loved alcohol and drank every chance he got until he couldn't walk straight. At least, the drinks made him happy, even if he ended in… at least strange positions.

"What girl are you guys dancing with, tonight?" he asked.

"You know we don't dance, Raivis," Eduar said.

"Yes, but there's gotta be a girl or two you like! Parties are the best meet-cute settings!" Raivis was also a romance novel and lovey-dovey poem lover, and had no problem starting "girly" conversations about them.

"Well, if I had to choose one…" Toris started. He needed a moment to think, blushing. His two friends wondered who he was thinking about to look this embarrassed but he quickly turned back a normal shade of pink. "I'd say… Natalya." Eduar looked at him with wide, incredulous eyes. "Yes, I know she is obsessed with her brother but she's very beautiful. And if Ivan isn't here tonight, than there aren't as many risks as there could be."

"But Toris!" Eduar cried with an offended expression. "I was planning on asking her out!"

"Wha- Well yeah, me too!"

Eduar and Toris stared at each other straight in the eye for a few moments, in a staring contest that seemed like it could decide who would win the gorgeous Russian girl's heart. Raivis placed his comic in the middle to make it a tie. "You're not going to fight over her, are you?" he said, taking it back.

"No, you're right, it'd be stupid," Toris admitted.

"We'll just let her choose," Eduar finished. Raivis let out a sigh that made both the other boys turn to him. "What about you?"

"What, me?"

"You've got things to tell us too! Which girl would you like to go out with?"

Raivis blushed wildly and looked away. "Nobody."

The older one send him a dubious look and he sat back into his chair. "We told you who we were into so it's your turn, "shota"." Raivis frowned and muttered something they couldn't hear. "Sorry, what?"

"…-sha."

"Be even more quiet, maybe we'll hear it better."

Raivis tensed up even more, took a deep breath and finally said a name. "… Katyusha."

There was a long silence. Toris and Eduar stared at him with unfathomable expressions and the only comment the Latvian boy got was from Eduar: "She could be your mom."

"Don't say that, she's not that old."

"She can drive and you're not even fifteen. So she could be your mom."

"You know, if it's because of her breasts, there are other pretty girls…" tried Toris.

Raivis rolled his eyes and went back to his comic. He wasn't expecting his "friends" to understand anyway. Eduar and Toris started talking again about who had the best chances with Natalya.

"And why don't you try seducing your lovely roomie?" Eduar joked with a sly grin.

Toris rolled his eyes. "Leave her- him out of this."

"Beautiful slip up."

"Stop it."

"What, you look like you're getting along."

"He's nice but way too annoying."

"I thought you loved getting stepped on…"

"Not true! And I'm not even gay!" Someone coughed from the room's door, interrupting them. As one, they turned and spotted the Polish boy watching them with a mocking expression. Toris blushed, praying that Feliks had heard as little as possible. Then he wondered why it bothered him and blushed even more.

"I know you got, like, tons of stuff to talk about but Luna said that, like, Tor-Tor totally had to get ready because he's got to help preparing the party room."

Toris glanced at his watch and hurriedly put his stuff back in his bag. "Gosh, I didn't know it was already that late."

"See you later "Tor-Tor"," Eduar laughed as he walked to the door. Toris didn't answer and just followed his roommate.

#hetalia axis powers #fanfiction #my work #school fic #Crazy School

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