#heavily at this point given every doctor I’ve spoken to say yeah that sounds like it

[dim-sum-wolf]

Dying ougghhhh, I’ve got doctors appointments the next few days and they’re stressing me out but that makes my pain flare which stresses me out

#tummy hurty #but I’m so brave about it #adventures with jamie #endometriosis #suspected at least #heavily at this point given every doctor I’ve spoken to say yeah that sounds like it #and multiple irls who have it are also say I do #bleghhh

[grace-likes-things]

Beside Her

Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

A/N: uhh it’s been a while. Here’s this! And here’s to me posting a random one-shot every two years lmaoooooo. Disclaimer: alternate reality where no one died/left after endgame.

Summary: A mission Peter’s off the job for, and which goes terribly wrong.

Warnings: blood, major character death, this one is v angsty folks.

Word Count: almost 6k 

~~~~~~~

“So, am I alright to go with?”

“No way, Peter. Your sling may be off but your arm can't handle the kind of wear you put it through yet. Give it another day or so.”

Peter sighs, exasperated, “But the mission’s tonight!”

“Nuh, uh, Pete,” my dad cuts in across the room, “You’re staying here, doctor’s orders. I told you we’d check, and we did, and Helen says no.”

“Mr. Stark—!”

“Not me, Helen, you really gonna combat her decision?”

Dr. Cho gives Peter a stern look, having had experience with his impulsively-gained-injuries before. He turns away, ducking his eyes, knowing not to challenge her. 

“Peter it’s fine,” I say, hand on his good shoulder, “You’ll join us on the next one.”

“If—“ my dad buts in, “he doesn't go shatter half the bones in his arm again. And don't go assuming you’ll be on the next one, Y/N, I'm hardly supportive of you coming with tonight as it is.”

I sigh, turning stubbornly towards him as he waltzes out of the room, “I've been training for over 3 years, dad I—“ 

“Nope. Still my kid, don't push your luck. We’re t-minus 1 hour out, so go get ready,” and with that, he turns the corner and leaves. 

“Sorry Pete, better luck next time.” Helen picks up her clipboard and departs, leaving us alone in the room.

I turn to Peter, who’s looking rather defeated about the fact that he won't be allowed on the first mission in three months. I nudge his shoulder playfully, “Hey, think on the bright side, now you get to snoop around the lab uninterrupted for a couple hours.”

He gives me a halfhearted smile, “Yeah? I still wish I could be out there with you.”

His eyes change into an anxious look. I look at him, sympathetic, and grab his hand in mine. 

Since the snap, the fight with Thanos, and almost losing my dad, Peter’s had this protective, premature-guilt complex concerning the people close to him. We got lucky not losing anyone, but I think seeing my dad recover from mourning us and the near-death experience I had in the battle, he’s not really comfortable being separated from us in a fight.

“I know. But it’s relatively minor, from what I’ve heard. I mean — minor enough to convince my dad to let me tag along, so.“

“Yeah, I know. I just hate not being there to have your back.”

I lean into his side, shoving him playfully, “You suggesting I can’t handle myself?”

“Absolutely not,” and I see I’ve forced a grin onto his face, “Just think, ya know, maybe your dad’s had a few too many juice pops lately, and I gotta be concerned — I mean, a gain in weight could throw off his balance in the suit—“ 

“Oh! Throwing my dad under the bus here, are we?” I laugh, “That’s funny, maybe I’ll mention it to him later.”

“Kidding! Don't tell your dad I said he’s fat — he's not.” He hangs onto my hand as I stand from the med-bay bed, “He’s a very fit man, you know, for his age.”

I laugh, “This just gets better and better! I’ll make sure to tell him you think he’s old too after I get ready.” 

I move to walk away, but Peter stops me, tugging my hand gently.

“Hey, but seriously,” he murmurs, “be careful tonight. Come back in one piece for me. Okay?”

“Of course,” I say, and lean my forehead against his, “And you have a fantastically boring night, let your arm rest. Don't get into any trouble.”

He kisses me long and gentle, “I’ll try not to.”

——————

Tonight’s mission was a fairly routine one. One of the lingering branches of Hydra left, hiding in a bunker and planning nothing good. We’d all been briefed on the most recent information about their weapons and tactics, and the team had decided tonight was the time to shut the place down. 

I examine the repulsors in the palms of my suit, sleeker like Peter’s, but armed similarly to my dad’s. There’s about 15 minutes before we fly out, so I tuck my braids beside my neck — getting my hair caught in the helmet seriously blows — and make my way up to the launch pad. 

“Hey, offspring!” my dad plants his hand on my head and shakes it, “You still wanna come along on this one? Sure you don't wanna stay home? Absolutely? Because you know, you’re welcome to, in fact, DUM-E's been missing you down in the lab, i’m sure he’d appreciate your company—“

“Nuh uh, old man, I'm going with. You said so.”

“Oh, so I’m old now? You know, I did end up with an extra five years than you, so you can cut me a little slack.”

I laugh and walk onto the quinjet to meet the team, “Never.”

————————

“You all remember your assignments?” Steve asks, “Me and Sam, Tony and Wanda, Nat and Y/N.”

A chorus of yes’s and nods follow, as if this wasn’t the fourth time we’d answered that question. 

The ride to the bunker is relatively boring, other than my dad pestering me with Stay with nat, and don't get distracted, and be careful, and don’t do anything I would do, and definitely don't do anything Peter would do. Nat and Wanda chuckle at my situation from across the quinjet, and it was getting pretty old by the time we landed a bit outside the target. 

Once we’ve all gotten set with weapons and coms, we start out on the jog to the bunker. Upon arriving there, Nat and I are tasked with stealing a hard drive that contains targets and weapons data. From what we know, it’s in a room close to the center of the building, so we have a long way to go while trying to get noticed as little as possible. 

My dad tells me to stay safe and call for him if needed before we part ways, and Nat and I are alone in a dark hall.

“Alright,” Nat whispers, “We move toward the center of the bunker, 4 floors down, we’ll use the vents if we have to. They might cause a scene somewhere else, but our job is to keep hidden, all the way in and out if we’re lucky.”

“And when are we ever lucky?” I murmur back with a smirk.

“Don’t jinx it, kid, let’s go.”

For the most part, the beginnings of the mission are easy. We used Friday’s heat signatures for a full week to map out the guards’ schedules, so we knew what halls to stick to and when. Making our way to the less-monitored maintenance stairwell, we walk in silence, keeping an ear out for updates over the coms. Just as we reach the bottom of the third flight of stairs, a pair of guards walks through the doors.

“Hello, boys,” Nat says and quickly turns to me, “I’ll take the tall one.”

With that, we spring to action.

The pair raise their weapons toward us, but Nat quickly disarms the man across from her while I blast the gun from the shorter man’s hand and drag him through the doorway before he can reach the alarm on the outside wall. Slamming him into the stair railings, he tries to get rid of me by throwing a headbutt my way, but my suit takes the brunt of the impact. Pulling my arm back and releasing his wrist, I aim a punch square at his face and hear a crack when it lands on his nose. After a disdainful grunt, he shoves me back and tries to kick my legs out from under me, but I quickly grab hold of his ankle and yank up. The man lands harshly on the floor, and one kick is all it takes to knock him out. 

When I look up, Nat has already beat her opponent and is checking the outer hall for more guards. “It’s clear,” she says, and we both take the ankles of the two guards and drag them through the door into the nearest room, tying them up securely before jamming the door in place. 

“I hope they enjoy a nice nap, let’s keep moving,” Natasha says, and we make our way back to the stairwell.

Finally on the fourth lower level, we hold ourselves with a bit more caution. This is where they guard more heavily, and we still have quite a ways to travel before we’re near the center of the building. With light steps, we make our way down the dimly lit halls, occasionally ducking through doorways and turning corners to avoid passing agents, guards and other workers. It seems as if most of the work they do happens down here, as we constantly see high-ranking members and people in lab coats muttering to one another as they roam the halls. I’m only able to catch a few words of any given conversation, and of the ones that were spoken in English, none of them sound pleasant.

Nat and I travel fairly uninterrupted for the next few halls before she stops me and says, “Alright, we’re close to the center now. The hard drive we need is going to be in a lab somewhere around here, so we’re checking rooms. If there are any heat signatures, we clear it together. If Friday doesn’t pick any up, we split and multitask.”

I raise my eyebrows, “Oh? Going against my dad’s orders, huh?”

She gives me a wry smile, “You seem to be able to handle yourself, and it’ll get us out of here faster,” she points at me, “Just don't make me regret it.”

I laugh, “I won’t.”

And with that, we start scanning the upcoming rooms.

The first room we check has a few Hydra agents inside, so we clear it together, check the computers for the right information and come up empty handed, breaking the doorknob and continuing on. We go about this for a while, knocking out the occupied rooms together, splitting up to clear empty rooms, checking for the right hard drive, and moving on. It’s tedious, but no alarms have been activated so far, and we make a good team. 

Now very close to the center of the bunker, we come upon another few rooms free of heat signatures, so we once again divide and conquer. We have to be getting close now.

“I’ll take this one on the left, you’ve got the right?” I ask, walking carefully toward the door.

“Gotcha, call if you find anything.”

I open the large metal door and take a cautious step in, examining the room around me. There are no lights on, so I use a light on my suit to see my surroundings. 

It’s strange, the room is large with high ceilings, but is pretty much empty. A few scraps of metal and packaging are strewn about the floor. Concrete floors and dark walls line the place. I take a few steps further in to double check that I haven’t missed anything, but all I see is one door on the opposite side. I turn back to exit when the entrance I came through slams shut in front of me. Alarmed, I run forward and try to open it, but the handle won't budge.

“Nat!” I whisper hushed through the coms, “The door shut behind me, can you get it from the outside?”

I hear her footsteps approach from the other side and the sound of her trying to open the door, “I can't get it, and the lock must be electric, there’s nothing to pick. How’d this close on you?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t see it.”

I hear a new voice over the coms, “Wait, did you two get separated?” My dad’s voice resounds with a hint of anxiety, “What did we talk about, Y/N? I said to stay with—“ 

“I tried! Not my fault the door shut behind me.”

“Well you should’ve gone through the door with Nat in the first place!”

“Hey!” Natasha’s voice cuts in, “While I would love to listen to you two bicker, we’ve got a job to do. She’s fine, Tony, we’ll figure it out.”

“I could just blast the door handle—“

“No, Y/N, it’ll be too loud, we’ve gotten this far without being noticed.” I hear Nat huff through the door, “It’s in our best interest to keep it that way. Friday’s telling me there’s another door, leads out to a hall. I can go around and meet you there. It's further toward the center, so at least if you have to blast the thing down we’ll be closer to the target.”

“Sounds good, I’ll wait for you,” I say, and with that, Natasha stalks off through the halls. 

I turn to make my way across the room, walking leisurely. This place really is unusually huge for a seemingly-unused underground room, about the size of a school gymnasium. I’m wondering if it may have been used for storage or training when I hear a noise to my left.

Turning swiftly with my guard now up, I see a male guard walk through a side door. Another entrance? How did I miss that? I ready my fists in a fighting stance and call through the coms, “Hey Nat? This room was occupied, I’ve got it handled for now but you might wanna make it here quick.”

Strangely, I get no response, but I don't have time to dwell on that fact because the man is charging toward me.

He’s a good fighter, and we both land some hard hits as we combat to occupy the room. I flip over him and blast him into the wall, but he recovers abnormally quickly and rises up again for more. I land another punch to his stomach once he’s in range, but he quickly grabs my wrist after and squeezes with inhuman strength, crushing the thin-design gauntlet on my hand. The metal cuts into my palm before tear what remains off and launch him over my shoulder onto the floor. I move to kick his side but he grabs my leg and throws me off balance, and my back hits the floor in a harsh slam. Groaning, I try to sit up as the guard grabs a metal pole off the floor — oh shit — and slams it onto my other palm, crushing my second gauntlet. Two hands now bare, aching, and unarmed, I continue to fight at a slight disadvantage. But I’ve trained for years, I can handle this.

It turns out maybe I couldn’t handle it. 

The guard has to be one of Hydra’s human experiments, because he’s stronger than the average adult. I struggle to gain the upper hand for several minutes. He's had me pinned me to the ground, and just when I think his weight is lifting off me he brings down the pole on my side. Hard. 

I groan and curl away. Even through the thin — and now damaged — metal of my suit, the blow took the air out of me. I press my palms to the cold floor to push myself up, but another blow strikes my back and I collapse forward. Finally, the man grabs a fistful of my hair and slams my head into the ground, and a ringing suddenly starts in my ears. Dizzy, head aching, and barely able to think, the next thing I register is being dragged across the room to the opposite wall by my wrists, which are then cuffed in front of me.

And strangely, the guard who put all that effort into beating me walks out of the room.

“Hey!” I shout, “What’s going on, asshole!? Come back here!” But he doesn’t return, and shuts that same side door behind him. I groan in frustration, head still pounding in pain, and try to reach the team again, “Anyone hear me? I’m still in this room, my gauntlets are broken and I'm cuffed, anyone around?” No response, “Hello?”

I’m starting to think Hydra somehow interrupted our signal when another noise distracts me from across the room. 

The door opens once again, and this time five people exit. Four guards and…

Peter.

A chill surges down my spine.

They’re dragging Peter into the room.

“Peter?” I call out, panicked, “Hey! What are you doing with him?”

He’s dressed in plainclothes, so he didn’t come here as Spiderman. He doesn’t look like he’s in the best condition, slumped and hardly fighting the guards who are carrying him to the center of the room. My mind starts racing with all the things they could’ve done — what’s wrong with him? How could they have hurt him so badly he isn't able to fight back, especially with his strength? I need to get him away from them, but if these four guards are anywhere as strong as the last, I need a plan of attack. Or backup. Where is the team?

And how did they get to Peter? Peter Parker, not Spiderman, so not out on the streets — he was supposed to be in the lab tonight. Did they get into the compound? Is anyone else hurt? My mind keeps spiraling into more and more panicked thoughts, and then I hear him.

“Y/N?” He calls out, “Where are we?” His voice is raspy and slurred, and I think they must’ve given him something, some sort of drug. I’m about to call back to him when a guard lifts him up and punches him in the stomach.

“No!” I shout, raising up to my knees and then beginning to stand before one of the four guards points his gun at me. I stay there, kneeling before the scene, not knowing what to do to stop either of us from getting hurt. The three remaining guards begin to beat on him again, kicking and punching and Peter is too delirious to serve any resistance other than curling up and grasping weakly at the ankles of the men hurting him. I can hear his pained whimpers, and my heart squeezes in my chest, I feel tears building in my eyes.

“Stop! Stop hurting him, what do you want?!” I scream, wanting to get closer to him but still at a stand still with the fourth guard, “Come on, tell me what you want! You’re not getting anything by just beating him!”

The three guards pay me no regard, but the fourth, still pointing his gun at me, snickers as if I’ve said something funny.

Peter is still at their mercy, receiving hit after hit and a voice in my head tells me, they’re gonna kill him. You have to do something or they’ll kill him.

“What do you want? Come on, what is it?!” 

And with a heavy accent, the man says, “To cause you misery.”

The chill returns, and I decide — despite my terrible odds — that I have to get them away from Peter. 

I get my feet firmly under me.

I charge toward the guard with the gun, bracing myself.

And he does something I didn’t expect.

He turns the gun on Peter.

I hear three shots.

“NO!” I scream, my eyes go wide and I drop to my knees once again, facing Peter and crawling toward him, “No, no, no, no, no!”

The guards shuffle back into the shadows, laughing, seemingly done with their job, but all I can see is Peter.

I’m frozen for a second, staring, shaking, unable to process the scene before me. He lies on his back, staring up at the ceiling, hands grasping at his chest where blood has begun to pour from three wounds. I race toward him and drop to the ground at his side, placing my cuffed hands firmly over the holes in his chest.

“Peter?” I say, my voice tight and choked, “Hey, hey listen to me, you’re gonna be okay. The rest of the team is here, my dad is here, he's gonna get us out, okay?” A few of my tears leak down onto my hands, running into the blood that now stains them.

“Y/N?” He mumbles, hardly able to speak.

“Yeah, it’s me, I'm so sorry,” I sniff and try to keep my throat from closing up, “I’m so sorry I couldn’t stop them but you’re gonna be fine, Peter, we’re gonna get help.” 

His face is twisted in pain, and when he tries to speak next, only a cough comes out, and blood bubbles out over his lips.

I fail to hold back a sob and move my hands to his cheeks, “Shh,” I try to get out, but it comes out shaky, like a whimper, “Shh, don’t— don’t try to talk.”

His eyes look into mine, I can see the pain behind them as he lies there, struggling to breathe. I stroke his cheek, and only now come to notice the blood I’ve painted there. I sob again. I don't know what to do, I don't know what to do, I don't know how to help him.

Can I?

Is it too late?

I cradle his head across my thighs, take one of his hands in mine and leave the other on his cheek, trying to provide some sort of comfort.

“I’m sorry, Peter, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry,” and I just keep saying it, breathing it out and heaving air back into my lungs between sobs. Tears are constantly tracking down my face now, and i’m doing all I can to subdue them while he’s still conscious, still looking at me. 

My mantra of apologies keeps repeating, and my thumb keeps stroking along his cheek, and I don’t know how long I sit there, crying, mumbling, desperately hoping someone comes to help us before I notice him release a slow, defeated breath.

In, out.

“Peter?” I mumble. My blood freezes in my veins. My breath stills. I wait for his chest to rise again. I watch and pray for it to happen. Please, please, please.

It doesn’t move.

A long, whining sob erupts from deep in my chest as I drop my head and cry, and cry, and cry above him, “No, no, no, no. Please, no.”

I sob, loud and painful, unable to take a breath in anymore. I shut my eyes and don't look up because I can't look at his face — his eyes are still open his eyes are still open. 

I’m never gonna see him again,

I’m never gonna hear his voice again, 

I’m never gonna kiss him again.

The pain in my chest gets worse and I feel dizzy with the force of my sobs.

And then suddenly there are arms under mine, and I'm being dragged backwards.

Away from Peter.

“No, no, no, no, let me go! Let me go!” And what i’m saying is barely coherent between the sobs, “Let me stay with him, please, please!” But the arms hooked under me don't relent, no matter how hard I pry at them, no matter how hard I kick and scream. He’s getting farther and farther away from me, alone in that room, and I can't bear the thought of it.

“Please, let me go!”

And suddenly I hear my name, as if through a haze, but I can’t make out who’s saying it. I don't really care. I have to get back to him, I have to stay with him, I can’t leave him alone.

“Y/N— “

“Y/N it’s us! Come on!”

I pull and pull at the hands around me but I can’t remove them, I keep getting pulled backwards until— 

I’m yanked through a doorway, and the room where Peter lies is dark and blank in front of me.

My hearing isn’t fuzzy anymore.

I gasp in surprise but the sobs haven’t stopped, and my father’s unmasked face appears in front of me.

“Y/N? Hey! You’re okay, we’re here!” His hands are on my face but I swat them away.

“No! Peter’s in there! We can't leave him! We have to take him home, we have to get him home—”

“Y/N— “

“Dad they shot him, I couldn’t help him, I couldn’t help him—“ my words dissolve again into cries of grief.

“Y/N he's not in there.”

I turn to him in confusion.

“He is!” I point my hand frantically toward the doorway, “In the middle of the room! They k— they killed him in there!”

“Y/N…” my dad speaks.

And it’s then that I notice my outstretched hand, pointing toward the door.

There’s no blood on it.

I start to shake harder.

“I- I saw it, I saw it happen I— “

And I notice the thin fog rolling out through the doorway, lazily dispersing along the floor.

I look up. I breathe heavy and shakily. The whole team is staring down at my red, tearstained face. Cap’s face is twisted into concern, Natasha looks sad and sympathetic. Hydra agents lie dead or out cold on the ground, alarms blaring, but no one takes any steps to exit. The raid is over…

And I can't see any blood on my hands.

“Y/N, it was a hallucinogen,” my dad says firm, but gently, “Whatever you saw in there wasn’t real.”

I stare at him, trying to make sense of this. It looked so real. It felt so real.

“But— but I saw it— I felt it, I could feel what they did—“ 

He gently breaks the cuffs from my wrists, “I know, I know kiddo, but it wasn’t real. They know how to get in your head.” 

I shake my head in confusion, “But the cuffs? And my gauntlets are broken—?”

“Whoever did that was real.” Nat cut in, “They hurt you so you wouldn't fight the simulation and then the drugs were pumped into the room.”

I sit there on the floor in front of the Avengers. Disbelief, confusion, and grief all playing across my face. 

“Check the room,” I demand.

My dad points a light into it, and Steve walks through, “No one here, see?”

My mind still races, it felt so real.

“Friday?” My dad speaks up, a gentle hand in my hair, “Where’s Peter now?”

“At the compound, sir, working on his suit in your lab.”

I sniff and mumble out, “Vitals?”

“All normal levels.”

I sigh, squeeze my eyes shut, and drop my head into my hands. A sob of leftover panic and relief fights its way out of my chest.

“C’mere,” My dad says, and pulls me closer to him, a soothing arm around my back.

“I need to see him,” I choke out, “I need to know he’s not— “

“I know, I know, we got the job done here, we’re going home.”

——————

I don't remember the walk back out of the compound. It’s all vague reassurances and worrying eyes. I think my dad buckled the straps around me once we got to the quinjet. 

The flight back is somber, quiet, despite the fact that we succeeded. I feel the entire team’s eyes on me, but I don't look up. I’m too busy sitting curled on my seat, staring down at my hands.

There was so much blood. So much of his blood.

I spend the next few hours staring, not speaking, unable to stop the images from replaying in my head. My dad sits beside me, stroking my hair, muttering things I can’t hear.

I thought he was gone. All I can hear are the choked, wet sounds of the blood rising from his throat, all I can see is the stark image of dark red dripping down his pale cheek. Pain in his eyes. His chest refusing to move.

“Y/N,” I think it’s the fourth attempt someone makes to get my attention, and I look up to see my dad kneeling in front of me, “We’re almost back.”

“He’s at the landing pad?” I whisper, my voice hoarse.

My dad takes my hand and says, “Yeah, I had Friday call him up.”

The next thing I’m aware of is the quinjet touching down, and I unbuckle the straps and stand up. My dad rests a reassuring hand on my back, and when the ramp lowers, he walks me forward. He can tell I’m still doubtful. He can tell a part of me still believes what I saw back in that room. 

But then we reach the ground and I see him.

Peter is standing back from the landing pad, accompanied by Pepper. He’s healthy, he’s standing on his own, he’s not bleeding, he’s not hurt, he hasn’t been shot, he’s okay.

He’s not dead.

I pick up the pace, walking out of reach of my dad, and once I’m close enough to see his eyes a sob fights its way up my throat and I throw my arms around his shoulders.

“Hey, shh, it’s alright,” his arms wrap firmly around my back, one hand landing in my hair and one stroking up and down my spine. His hair tickles my cheek, his shirt collar is bent out of shape — he never folds them right. He’s warm and strong and breathing and alive. I bury my face in his neck as another sob wracks through my body.

“What happened?” I hear him ask, confused, and his voice rumbles so low and soothing and I can feel it against my chest, hear it in his throat where my ear is pressed. I can’t stop my cries long enough to answer him but I realize the question wasn’t directed toward me.

“She’s not hurt,” my dad’s voice reassures him, “They messed with her head. She thought — she saw them hurt you—“

“I thought you were dead,” I croak out. My grip on him tightens and I let my hand trail to the curls at the base of his neck, let them twist around my fingers. My voice has risen an octave when I say, “You died, I saw you die.”

We sway for a moment, his hands still running down my back and through my hair, I don't think he knows what to say. I wouldn’t know, either. 

We stay there for a minute, and the rest of the team has walked inside to give us some space, I assume. 

After a while, when my sobs have quelled and I'm just quietly sniffling against him, I feel his hand on my cheek, pulling me back.

“Hey,” He whispers gently, wiping his thumb under my eye to clear away the tears there, “Good thing that wasn’t me then, right? I’m right here. And I’ve got proof— I was talking Dr. Banner’s ear off in the lab the entire time, he can vouch for me,” I let out a watery giggle at his antics, “You wanna go inside? Get you warm, patch you up?”

“Yeah,” I sigh out, disentangling myself from him, but keeping an arm around his side as we walk into the building, “Sorry, I’d give you a hello kiss but I’m pretty sure there’s snot running down my face.”

He chuckles and presses a kiss to the hair at my temple, “That’s okay, let’s get you cleaned up.” 

——————

After a brief period of time, I’ve showered, changed into pajamas, and am now sitting at the bathroom sink where my dad is bandaging the shallow cuts on my hands from the broken gauntlets. We sit in relative silence, and there’s no doubt from the look on my dad’s face that I appear just about as shell shocked as I feel. 

“Kiddo, you gonna be okay tonight?” He asks in a hushed voice. 

I don't look him in the eye, instead watching him work on my hands as I mumble out, “Probably not.”

He huffs with a bit of amusement, “Well, thanks for the honesty, I guess.”

He finishes up on my left hand and raises my chin to look him in the eye. I don't know what to say, so I let him speak first.

“Seriously, Y/N, that was heavy, what you went through. Don’t be afraid to ask any one of us for help, okay?” He looks me pointedly in the eye, already doubting I’ll take him up on that. I am his daughter, after all. 

“Yeah,” I whisper, “Got it.”

He stands with a sigh and puts the first aid kit back under my sink.

“Goodnight, come get me if you need me.” He presses a kiss to my head and leaves.

——————

Tony looks at the clock. 7a.m., three hours after they returned from the mission. 

“Friday? Has Y/N gotten any sleep yet?”

“No, sir. She spent a few hours in the kitchen with Mister Parker, but it appears as if they are both headed to their respective rooms now.”

“Alright. Alert me if she needs help, Fri.”

“Will do, sir. Goodnight.”

——————

“Sir, it appears as if Y/N is in distress.”

Tony wakes up to the alert just forty minutes after he’d laid down to sleep. He's quickly alert and shuffling out of bed, down the hall to his eldest daughter’s room. Although, when he turns the corner he sees Peter already at the door.

The teen looks up at him, “Hey, Mr. Stark. I— Friday told me she needed help. I was just gonna check in.”

“Me too,” Tony sighs, “You go ahead, Pete. It’s you she needs to see right now. Goodnight.”

The man turns to leave, but stops short of turning the corner. He says, tired, but playfully, “Door open, Parker.”

“Gotcha, Mr. Stark,” And the boy walks in to comfort his daughter.

Several hours later, after Tony’s gotten his meager version of a full-night’s sleep, and after a night he’s sure has held several nightmares for his daughter, he walks back past her door to make sure she’s okay.

He smiles warmly at the scene. Wrapped in Peter’s Midtown sweatshirt, his daughter sleeps, restless but quiet, leaning an arm over the boy she loves. He holds her secure, both their legs strewn about the covers, and Tony can't help but notice Y/N’s hand. Resting softly at the side of Peter’s neck, fingers in the hair behind his ear, and her thumb rests just over the boy’s pulse point. Thrumming gently in sleep, reassuring her — even in her unconscious state — that what she saw was fake. Peter is alive and well, sleeping soundly right beside her.

—————

Alrighty that’s it! Let me know how you liked it and thanks for reading!

#Beside her #Peter parker #Peter Parker imagine #marvel imagine #marvel #spiderman #Spiderman imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker fic #peter parker x y/n #Peter Parker x stark!reader #tom holland #avengers #imagine #mcu #Tony stark #dad!tony #stark!reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #Black Widow

[admiralty-xfd]

Culmination

Mulder and Scully live separate lives but can’t seem to forget each other. They begin work on the X Files again and slowly begin to reconnect.

This is chapter 17. To go back to the beginning of the story please click here.

Side note: This is probably my favorite chapter in this story. (Read: Daggoo!)

ISOLATION

SCULLY

(pre S10/ My Struggle I)

Loneliness is a choice.

It’s a choice she’s making again, but this time it feels different. This time she feels like she has no choice. She could be lonely with him, or be lonely without him.

The thought of being lonely with Mulder was the more painful of those two choices. So she left.

Trying to adjust to a life without him has not been easy. She knew it would be a huge change, but she hadn’t anticipated how every single facet of her life would be completely new. New living space, new routine, new acquaintances, new mindset. She supposes that’s what happens when you're so utterly dependent on another person.

Scully had always vowed not to be that person, not to be someone whose very existence relied so heavily on another, let alone on a man. But she broke that vow to herself years ago, she knew it then and she knows it now. She’s left herself completely vulnerable, no safety net in sight. He was her only safety net. Extricating herself from his orbit has been more difficult than she’s comfortable admitting.

The first few days had been a relief. After that it became torture.

It was a horrible feeling, knowing he was a phone call away and she couldn’t talk to him. She had arranged with one of her doctor colleagues to check up on him weekly and refill his prescriptions, which he agreed to wordlessly. She'd told her colleague to contact her if she'd encountered any problems or was ever unable to contact him, and so far she'd heard nothing. This satisfied her, for the time being, in regards to his health.

Divorcing him was something she’d never seriously considered. She tried to convince herself she avoided the topic because she didn’t want to go through all the paperwork and rigamarole involved in dissolving their relationship legally, but she knew that wasn’t the truth. The truth was, she couldn’t do it. She wouldn’t do it. Regardless of whether or not they’d ever get back together, he’d always be joined to her somehow. The thought of adding to both their heartbreaks with such a request was unfathomable to her, at least right now.

Twenty years. Twenty years together and somehow they'd made it all go away.

She buries herself in her work every day, knowing every life saved is one more that isn't her own. She's trying to be happy, but without him, she's lost. She doesn't feel regret, or acrimony, or bitterness; just loss. She's lost the person she cares about more than anything in the world.

She hasn’t spoken to him, other than words necessary to get her things moved out of their house, in ten months. She took what she needed, left everything else behind.

She knows it’s because she secretly hopes she will be back someday, but whenever she thinks about the possibility of this she can’t bring herself to call him. It’s as if they are arguing again about Bigfoot or Big Blue or Big Whatever Else, and they both want to be right, and they can’t both be right, but neither can be proven wrong, so they’re left in an infuriatingly frustrating stalemate. She thinks about this, then, just as quickly, the desire passes and she puts the phone down and continues to learn to live without him.

She’s never gone this long without speaking to him since they met. The gravity of that fact is only setting in now.

Her phone rings. She looks at the caller ID, and doesn’t know why she picks up. She wants to be mad at him but she’s not mad at him, she’s just sad about the whole thing. She’s needed this space to re-establish herself as her own person, her own being. Someone outside of his magnetic pull. But she can’t help but miss him. She’s ignored his calls for months and he hasn’t given up. A small part of her is hopeful that he hasn’t given up.

“Hello?”

“Oh… hi. You picked up.” His voice sounds good, he sounds good. He sounds more like himself again. She’s glad to hear that. After she left she’d worried about the very real possibility he might relapse. The familiarity of his voice hits her in the gut, not to mention how sexy she’s always found it. She tries to ignore that errant thought.

“I did.”

“So… how is everything?”

She pauses. “Okay. How are you?”

“I’m doing all right. It’s been really quiet around here.”

“I’ll bet.”

“Yeah, I’m thinking about getting a dog.”

“You are not,” she says incredulously. She’d floated the idea of getting a dog before but he’d never bitten. He had always been more of a fish kind of person.

“No, I’m not. Just wanted to see what you’d say,” she can hear him smiling. She smiles and rolls her eyes in spite of herself.

“I’d have one by now if my apartment allowed them,” she admits.

“How’s work going?”

“Mulder, did you really just call to chat?”

“Yes. Is that so wrong?”

She’s quiet for a second. Sighs.

“Look, Scully, it’s silly for you to avoid me like this. Just because things didn’t work out for us as a couple it doesn’t mean we can’t be friendly.”

She wants to tell him that yes, actually, that’s exactly what it means. It’s only been ten months. What does he think this is, a vacation? She knows where being friendly with him will lead. It will lead to a place she doesn’t have the willpower to say no to, and then they’d be in trouble all over again.

She can’t tell him the reason they can’t be friends; she’d be admitting a weakness. He’s left her without a choice. She suspects, as usual, the motherfucker knows exactly what he’s doing. A brief flash of annoyance comes over her and she grits her teeth.

One point to Mulder.

“You’re right,” she concedes.

“Okay, friend, so how’s work?" She can practically hear him grinning on the other side of the line. She gives in, because in spite of everything she does miss him.

“It’s fine. My hours have been pretty crazy, but it’s a good thing.” She doesn’t complete the thought, that it’s a good thing because she has less spare time to think about him. But he’s probably completed the thought without her. He tends to do that.

“Yeah, I know what you mean. My hours around here are completely nuts.”

She hears a basketball bounce across the room and pictures him in their living room, probably wearing jeans and a T shirt, laying on the couch. She’s sure he’d been spinning the ball and had just lost hold of it. The place is probably a disaster without her around. She can’t help but smile.

“So what have you been up to?”

“You really want to know?”

She really does. “I really do.”

“Well, believe it or not, I’m writing a book. I’ve been following your advice.”

She’s stunned. “That’s… fantastic. I’m glad to hear that, honestly.”

“Thanks. You’re in it, you know.”

“I… really?” She hadn’t much thought about it but of course she would be. How could she not be?

“Of course, how could you not be?”

“Can I read it?” The words are out of her mouth before she gives herself a chance to think this through.

“Sure, but I’m not finished. Actually I’d really appreciate your help, I don’t have access to our files so I’m doing it mostly from memory.”

“It’s not all about UFOs, is it?”

“Well, I’m not gonna lie to you Scully, they play a part. Does that surprise you?”

She sighs. “No, it doesn’t. I’m just… done with all of that, Mulder. UFOs, aliens, all of that stuff had a stranglehold on my very existence. I’d rather not revisit it.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “Well, tell me how you really feel.”

“I’m sorry, that came out wrong.” She cannot get pulled back into his world. “You know what I mean.”

“Well, would it surprise you if I told you it’s mostly about us?”

Something stirs in her belly. It’s a feeling she knows well: Comfort. Familiarity.

Love.

She wants to push it away but it’s strong.

“You mean… you and me?”

“Yeah.”

She smiles and for a moment neither of them speak. It’s such a small thing, maybe even a silly thing, but it’s so meaningful to her. His life on the X Files in a book and it’s mostly about the two of them. She’s touched.

“Well, I’ll do what I can to help.”

She can't believe she’s essentially committed to helping Mulder write a book within five minutes of being on the phone with him. Between this and getting her to agree to a friendship she starts to believe the man truly is a dark wizard of some kind.

“Thanks, Scully. That’s… that’s big of you.” He says it genuinely, no sarcasm. For a moment they just sit quietly, together and apart, breathing on either end of the line. She wants to hang up almost as desperately as she doesn’t.

“Well, I should probably go.”

He sighs. “Yeah.”

“I’ve got some work to do.”

“Scully, I miss you.”

A knot forms in her stomach. The words are out now, and they can’t be taken back. She misses him too. She’d never want him to know how much, but he’s said it now. She doesn’t speak for a long time.

“You don’t have to say anything. I just want you to know.” He sounds sincere. He’s trying. She does appreciate his effort.

She can’t let this phone call take that kind of turn. She can’t get sucked back in. So she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. She needs to let him go, now.

“Okay. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Okay. Bye.”

She clicks the phone off and sits at her kitchen table. It’s a small table, the smallest one she could find, but it’s still meant for two.

***

Scully goes to the mirror and cleans up the spots of blood on her neck from the surgery she’d been performing. She quickly removes her scrubs in the locker room and changes into her street clothes. She touches up her makeup and straightens her hair. It’s the quickest she’s ever had to prepare for anything resembling a date. Last but not least, she pulls out her black Jimmy Choos and slips them on, replacing them in her locker with the sneakers she’d been standing on for hours.

God, she could use a drink.

She’d tried to go out with other men over the last year or so. After nearly two years without Mulder she thought she might be ready. She’d made a solid effort to find someone who could fill the gaping hole she created when she removed him from her life. But it would always go the same way: some perfectly nice guy engaging her in some perfectly boring conversation which, in the end, could never be a substitute for what she and Mulder shared. Always just some guy who wasn’t Mulder.

She could accept no substitutes. There was no relief in a silhouette.

It won’t stop her from trying. She’ll be damned if she can’t beat this. She beat cancer, for God’s sake.

She exits the hospital and Tad O’Malley is waiting for her, holding the door open to his limousine. She smiles and allows him to help her inside. They sit down and he immediately pours two flutes of Dom Pérignon. She’s impressed, in spite of herself.

“So… tell me more about your work on the X Files, Dana. I’m extremely interested.”

Christ. She doesn’t want to disappoint him the second this thing begins so she decides to indulge him for a bit. “What do you want to know?”

“Well, how do you feel about all this? Do you believe in the paranormal?”

A memory stirs and she thinks of Mulder, young and eager, asking her basically the same question over twenty years ago. Why can’t she stop these memories from persisting?

“I was assigned to the X Files as a scientist, so I come at things from a more rational perspective. But over the years I’ve had… experiences that defy explanation.” She’s recited this mantra so many times she wants to laugh.

“What kinds of experiences?”

She’s not sure where to start. The truth is, the most amazing thing she experienced was Mulder. But she can’t tell him that, especially after the way she practically badmouthed him to Tad earlier. She feels a little bad about that now.

She digs up a couple stories to placate him, and after a few minutes they are chatting companionably, sipping champagne. It feels like the beginning of a nice date. Until:

“And what about Fox Mulder? Does he really believe in these things? He seems a little disillusioned. Not what I expected, actually.”

She hesitates, not sure where to take this. “And what did you expect, Mr. ‘O'Malley?”

“Please, call me Tad.”

“What did you expect, Tad?”

“From what I’ve heard, he’s… passionate, driven, dedicated. Earlier today he just seemed a little… lost. Standoffish.”

Scully tenses a bit. This is unexpected, something she hadn’t anticipated. “He’s... had a rough few years. It’s been rough for us both.”

She’s instantly uncomfortable, not sure how much she wants to reveal. Unfortunately she fears she’s given too much away already.

“So… you two were in a relationship.”

She looks at him. “Is this really what you’re trying to ask me? Because you could have just asked me, so we can move on.”

“I’m sorry, Dana. I didn’t know it was a sensitive subject.”

She doesn’t want him to know how rattled she is. “It’s fine. Mulder is just… whenever these sorts of things take hold of him, he goes somewhere that it’s very hard for him to come back from. I worry about the effect it has on his health, that’s all.”

He looks confused. “But you two are… not together anymore, right?”

She looks Tad directly in the eye. “He’s been my whole world for the better part of two decades. I’ll always worry about him, whether we’re together or not.”

He looks a little chagrined. “I’m sorry, I really am. I didn’t mean to denigrate anything. Just trying to figure out where I stand here, is all,” he grins.

She smiles at him. Tad isn’t a bad guy, and he’s nice. He’s good looking, and charming. He’s a fucking Republican, it would never work for the two of them in any long term sense, but maybe just for tonight he could make her forget about everything else.

She tries to imagine what it would be like to wrap her legs around his face but as usual these thoughts always morph into Mulder being there instead. She flushes at a thousand memories that leap to her mind, and one very specific memory of the two of them in a limousine very much like this one.

“Do you need me to turn the air conditioning on? You look warm,” Tad offers.

She looks away towards the tinted glass. “I’m fine,” she replies.

Dana Scully is always fine.

MULDER

(S10/ post-Babylon)

Living without her has been nearly impossible. Actually impossible.

More than impossible.

As with most impossible occurrences in his life, Mulder has been forced to believe it, and motivated to search for the answer. He doesn’t have her with him this time, so it will be harder.

Waiting until he’d surfaced from his depression to leave him was such a Scully thing to do, it brought him comfort in a strange way. He knew she’d worry about him, and she was careful to leave him a lifeline. Her colleague had been courteous, punctual, and efficient, just like Scully always was, and he felt so guilty for hurting her enough to make her leave that he’d done everything the doctor asked of him to keep Scully’s mind at ease.

He didn't want to add to her pain. He hadn’t wanted to be the cause of it in the first place. He hadn't wanted to become the burden he’d so desperately desired her to be rid of.

It was strange… taking the meds and doing what he was supposed to do to get healthy was easier after she left, not harder. He wanted to be better. His only goal in mind was to make everything okay again, to get her to come back to him. It was all he thought about every day. It consumed his waking mind.

How do I make this right? What can I do to deserve her?

It wasn’t a new thought; it was something he’d thought about many times in the past. He’d never truly felt worthy of her and she finally told him with her actions he hadn’t been.

When she told him how she’d felt that night in his jail cell he felt something awaken inside him; something he’d known for a long time but hadn’t allowed himself to truly feel: he needed to earn her. Even though he’d allowed himself to be with her, to love her and let her love him, he knew he had work to do. He'd allowed his obsession to take hold of him in a way that should only have been reserved for her.

He doesn't fully understand this yet, but he's trying to. He will try as long as it takes, until he gets this right. Until he gets her back.

***

“I don’t know what I was thinking,” Scully laments as they drive towards the airport, the scruffy little dog in a cage in the backseat. “My building manager is never going to let me keep him.”

“Why’d you take him, then?” Mulder isn’t angry, or annoyed. Just curious.

“I don’t know, his name is Daggoo. It’s like he was meant for me. I couldn’t just leave him there all alone.”

They’ve been back on the X Files for a few months now and Mulder feels a sense of relief that things are starting to feel somewhat normal again. Well, as normal as things can be when the woman you love isn’t in love with you anymore, but is working with you; isn’t living with you, but is still married to you. That kind of normal.

He should be used to that kind of normal by now.

At least they’ve fallen back into the work as if they’d never left. He’s been needing something to focus on, and when Skinner asked them both back he didn’t hesitate. Scully didn’t either, though for understandably different reasons.

Getting officially reinstated into the Bureau was not the ordeal Mulder had feared it might be. A couple signatures here, some training courses they’d had to retake there, and they were officially FBI agents again. It was strange after having been on the run from this very organization for so long to be back in its midst, being given the trust he thought he’d lost so many years ago. He’s hardly certain he wants to give them his own trust again. But he feels content; back where he belongs. It’s nice to be Agent Mulder once more.

It was awkward when he had to disclose their marriage to the Bureau, however. The FBI doesn’t have an official policy stating partnered agents couldn’t be married, but Mulder was forced to admit they weren’t together anymore even though they hadn’t signed any dissolution documents. Skinner seemed genuinely disappointed by this turn of events, which Mulder found somewhat comforting.

He was a little ashamed that he was still susceptible to the pull of his obsession, however, and was worried that all that Sveta stuff had rubbed Scully the wrong way. But he knew Scully understood that there was something going on that was important, perhaps even important enough to put aside their differences and work together on the X Files as they always had to find a common goal; to search for a common truth.

He isn't sure yet if they share another common goal, which is finding their way back to one another. He feels as if this reassignment to the X Files was somehow fated; that it means something, not only for the X Files but for the two of them. He can only hope she can find it in herself to feel the same way.

Now they are driving in their rental car with a couple suitcases and a dog, like a family headed home from vacation. And apparently this dog is not going to have a home when they get back.

Scully’s hand is on her brow, looking sadly out the window. The sight of her in this state makes Mulder react more quickly than he expects.

“I’ll keep him,” he offers.

She looks at him, upset, and shakes her head. “Oh please, Mulder. You hate dogs.”

“I do not hate dogs,” he responds, somewhat affronted.

“You never wanted one when we were together.”

“There were a lot of things I didn’t do when we were together,” he says, turning his head to look at her.

She stares at him with her hands in her lap. He’s noticed this lately, she keeps her hands very close to her body most of the time, as if she can’t trust them around him.

“You don’t have to do that,” she says quietly. “I’ll find someone to take him.”

For a moment he decides to maybe just let her find someone else. He doesn’t really want a dog, he’s just trying to be helpful. He just wants that sad look on her face to go away. If it were anyone else he’d never have said a thing. But then he realizes what this could mean for them. If he takes her dog, and she allows him to, that could be a sign that she’s open to seeing him socially. If she wants to see the dog, she has to see him. It would be worth all the hair and the drool and the shit to get to see her at all.

He’s decided. He’s the one who’s going to take her dog, dammit.

“He’s going to live with me, Scully.”

She lifts her head up, wearily. “Are you really serious? Can you even care for a dog?”

“Scully, I had a dog once. I think. Plus we have- I have that big yard. He’s going to love it.”

He can tell she’s in already, but she’s faking mulling it over. He just keeps on driving because he knows she won’t say no.

“Okay.” She smiles at him. “Maybe this will be good for you. Dogs are great company.”

“I know you worry about me all alone in our little house,” he points out. He doesn’t correct himself and neither does she. It is their house. Both their names are still on the deed.

“You never cease to amaze me, Mulder.”

***

Daggoo has been great company, and no one is more pleasantly surprised than Mulder. The dog is perfect. He listens, is housebroken, and he doesn’t even shed. It’s as if he’s Scully in canine form.

Maybe that’s why Mulder loves him already.

“Daggoo! Here, boy!” He takes the dog out into the front yard and throws a tennis ball for him. It’s hard to do this on the weekdays, but weekends have become surprisingly filled with Daggoo-related activities. It’s nice to have something to put his energy into that isn’t self-destructive.

Weeks have passed and the two of them have fallen into a comfortable routine. They wake up together, Mulder lets him into the yard and feeds him, and just before he leaves for work Daggoo climbs the stairs and snuggles into Scully’s old side of the bed, napping for most of the day. It’s where he spends most of the day, most every day. Mulder never showed him where to sleep; the dog decided this was his place. The symbolism is not lost on him.

Mulder’s plan has worked; Scully visits at least once a week. For the first few weeks she focused on the dog, bringing food and treats and toys, maybe out of obligation or guilt that she’d saddled Mulder with this animal. But after a few weeks her focus is back on him. Some days he will sit out on the porch and see a familiar SUV pull up without any warning, Daggoo fast asleep upstairs. She doesn’t ask about the dog. Those are the visits he lives for; when she arrives for him.

They are slowly becoming friends again, partners again, and definitely not out of obligation. She wants to be there. Daggoo has become a buffer, an excuse for her to come visit, and he’s grateful for it.

“So it looks like you two have been getting along nicely?” Scully asks one day as they sit on the porch together, Daggoo running around the yard.

"Yeah, I guess I’m a dog person after all.”

“You see?” She smiles. “You look good, Mulder. You look really good. I’m glad.”

He grins at her, relaxed and happy. “I feel good.”

“How are you doing with your meds?”

“Stopped. Two weeks ago.”

She’s quiet and looks at him. “Are you sure that’s the wisest course?”

“I’m doing okay, Scully. I feel like I’ve found my way again. I haven’t felt this good in years.”

She looks genuinely happy, and tilts her head a bit. “I’m glad to hear that, really.”

He looks her right in the eye and says it. “I’m doing it for you, you know.”

She looks away, uncomfortable. It doesn’t matter. He will not give up, not ever.

She gazes out across the yard at Daggoo, jumping and biting at flying bugs. “He doesn’t try to run away?” she asks idly.

Mulder hasn’t moved his eyes from her face. “No. I think he might like it here.”

She finally looks back at him. “Dogs are simple creatures, with simple needs. I’m sure you can give him everything he could possibly want.”

“I guess so. He’s stuck around so far.”

This is what they do. This is how they operate. Dancing around a topic they need to discuss but cannot get down to it. He’s used to it, frustrated by it, but he can’t push her now. This needs to be on her timetable.

She holds all the cards. He only has a dog.

“I’m glad he seems to be happy here. I really appreciate you giving him a home.”

Mulder nods. “Anytime.”

Hours later, after she’s been gone for awhile, Mulder lays in bed and thinks about her. He does this every night, every night since she left. He imagines her laying next to him the way she used to, and he can almost sense her presence until Daggoo hops up onto the bed and reminds him she is gone.

The dog nestles into his side and falls asleep more promptly than any sentient being should be able to. Mulder scratches Daggoo’s head and tries to remember a time when he wasn’t so lonely, a time when she needed him the way this dog does. A time when he should have taken better care.

It doesn’t matter how long it takes. He’s on a mission. He’s going to make her see she needs him again too.

***

So much has happened and yet nothing has happened. Maggie Scully passed away, and Scully had asked him to go the funeral with her, but the sadness of the event had weighed upon them both far too much for him to consider any improvement in their relationship.

He’d been close to Maggie, especially since he and Scully married. It was an unforeseen side effect of marriage he enjoyed immensely: gaining back a family.

A large chunk of time had passed where they hadn't spoken to any of the Scullys while they were in hiding, and it’s one more thing Mulder can’t help but feel guilty about. She’d given up seeing her own family so that she could be his.

William’s adoption had been the last straw for Bill Jr., however. They’d seen Bill and his family once since they got married. As usual, he blamed Mulder for his family’s misfortune and as usual, Mulder took it to heart. He couldn’t deny responsibility even when Scully defended him. Bill Jr. and his family had been stationed in Germany years ago and he and Scully had kept their distance.

Maggie, however, had always cared for him like her own son, like he suspected a mother is supposed to. And he cared for her. After they’d come out of hiding she’d become his family too, and he loved having a real family again.

Now that she’s gone, it should be another reason for Scully to bring her walls down. But she hasn’t. She lets him support her however he can, but he can’t help but wonder if it’s only because she has no choice: he’s literally all she has left now.

He hates to see Scully hurting, especially when they are in this state of limbo, where he doesn’t know how to comfort her. He doesn’t know the right way. He will do anything and everything she needs, as long as she’s willing to tell him what that is.

The only thing he feels comfortable doing is listening, and holding her. She allows him to. So it’s what he does.

***

The months go by comfortably, although he can’t help but notice the time passing. Every time he and Scully see each other, be it at work or when she visits Daggoo, they fall more and more back into the way they used to be. At least, the way they used to be before Scully came into his bedroom that night and changed both their worlds forever. It’s hard for him to believe something so meaningful that took so long to happen could be undone so easily.

Being here again in this place, however, feels like a step backward this time rather than merely an interim because he knows their potential. He knows how great they can be when they are everything to each other.

He wants to get back there, desperately. But for now, he can only be content with their friendship. They’re spending most of their time together nowadays, and he can’t complain. It feels like old times, whether they are in the field chasing after a Band-Aid Nose man or strolling quietly around the house discussing heavenly trumpets. It feels like everything is settling down.

“What are you up to tonight, Scully?” he asks as he puts some files into their office cabinet and closes it, another long work day over. They’d spent the past three evenings together and he was hoping to make it four.

“I think I’m going to head back to my place tonight, Mulder. I’ve got some things to take care of.”

He tries not to be disappointed, but he has a sneaking suspicion she wants to keep some distance between them. He can’t decide if she’s just sick of him, or if she’s keeping some kind of arbitrary boundary. He doesn’t think they are quite in a place where they’d be in danger of crossing some physical line, but he’s not in her head.

Her feet are up on the desk and she’s perusing some autopsy photos from earlier that day. She tilts her head up and grabs the side of her neck, stretching it. Hearing her wince in pain, Mulder seizes an opportunity.

“Let me get that.”

Before she can protest, his hands are on her shoulders, kneading them the same way he would when she’d arrive home from a long day at the hospital. She puts her feet and her photos down but doesn’t try to stop him. He knows she won’t make him stop. A bath and a neck massage are the two indulgences even a Flukeman couldn’t get in her way of.

She breathes deeply and allows him to make her feel better. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” He knows they’re both actively trying not to think about where such an activity would typically lead them. Considering they haven’t said a thing regarding the status of their relationship, the concern seems to be unjustified, at least for the moment.

As he kneads the tension out of her shoulders he feels her relaxing. It’s been so long, so long since he’s been able to touch her like this and he misses it so much. He misses her so much.

“That feel okay?” he asks.

Her eyes are closed and she hums a bit. “No, you’re terrible at this.”

“You realize it’s a serious crime to lie to an FBI agent.”

“Okay, it’s wonderful. Thank you.”

He doesn’t want to say anything, he wants to just enjoy what’s happening but he can’t help himself.

“How do you like living alone?”

She doesn’t respond for a moment. “It’s been fine.”

Of course she’d say that. She’s always fine.

“I haven’t thought it was fine. Not for a long time. But having Daggoo around has been really nice.”

“I’m really glad that worked out.”

He can sense she’s not going to offer much, but he can also sense she’s open to hearing what he has to say, so he goes on. “It’s kind of like having you around again. He’s clean, and he likes to cuddle.”

“He’s like me? Does that mean he bites?”

“No. He kisses me when I get home from work, though.”

He isn’t sure how long they can continue this particular round of bantering before crossing into awkward territory. But then she does something he is not expecting. She reaches up to her shoulder and puts her hand over his. She pulls his hand into her cheek and slightly tilts her head into it.

“I’ll bet he'd never leave you.”

His heart stops. He knows it’s not possible but it feels that way. He can’t see her face, so he just looks at the back of her head. He squeezes her hand.

“He doesn’t have a reason to.”

They stay that way for what feels like a long time but is probably only a few seconds. Time always seems to slow down when clarity comes to the forefront.

She squeezes his hand back and then the moment is over. She stands and heads towards the door to get her jacket.

“Thanks for the back rub, Mulder. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She gives him a gentle smile, her eyes not hiding the sadness there.

“See you.”

She heads out the door and he just stands there, not moving an inch until he hears the elevator door closing.

***

He turns his key in the lock and enters the darkness of the house. The usual clattering of doggy nails doesn’t reach his ears and he instantly feels a sharp jolt of fear.

“Daggoo? Here, boy!”

Nothing.

Mulder’s long work hours required him to leave a doggy door for Daggoo to go out and do his business, but the dog always returned. He had never gotten around to building a fence because he’d simply never felt the need.

He goes from room to room, searching, but Daggoo is nowhere to be found. He goes upstairs to see his usual spot on the bed, a tiny indentation against Scully’s pillow.

Vacant. For the second time.

The sight of it brings him to the floor. He weeps for his lost friend but mostly for what his disappearance represents.

***

He must have fallen asleep because he wakes to Scully’s hand on his shoulder.

“Mulder? Mulder, it’s me.”

He opens his eyes and it’s still dark. She’s still in her work clothes.

“Scully? What are you doing here?”

“I… I changed my mind. I didn’t want to be alone after all.”

He smiles, then remembers Daggoo. How is he going to tell her?

“What’s wrong, Mulder? Why are you asleep on the floor?”

He can only pull her into a hug. She lets him and they sit together on the floor.

“I- I lost Daggoo.”

“Oh, Mulder,” she says, and just lets him hold her. “I’m so sorry.”

This entire thing is so confusing. Daggoo is his dog, but also hers. They share the burden, as always. But the walls won’t come down. The goddamn walls won’t come down. Someone has to start removing bricks.

“I don't know what I'm doing, Scully. I don't know how to do this. I miss you so much,” he cries into her shoulder. “This is so hard, I just wish you could feel what I’m feeling.”

Her arms go around him and she holds him close. After a moment she responds. “I miss you too, Mulder. I do.” Like any time she sees him break down, he knows she is crying now too. “Please don’t be upset. I’m here, okay? I’m right here.”

Her hands go to the back of his neck and she brings his forehead to hers. It’s a start, a real start, the way they have always started.

“Thank you,” he whispers. “Thank you for coming.”

She kisses his forehead and squeezes him tightly again. Something has changed, something has shifted. Daggoo may be gone, but Scully is here, and for now, that’s enough.

Thanks for reading! I’ll be posting a story about what happened to Daggoo later today :)

#txf #msr #msr fanfic #post breakup #daggoo #culmination #idiots in love #things will get better soon

[naughtyneganjdm]

A Second Chance - Chapter 6

Summary: Max has a bad morning and has his feelings for Juliet come back to haunt him.

Characters: Max, Reader (OC) & Juliet

Warnings: Obsessive Thoughts, Stalking, Blood & Swearing

AO3 Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10357635/chapters/24974430

Tags: @jasoncrouse @ronweaselz @hiddlesdowneyjr @ali-pennell @melodicdolls @namelesslosers @deepsouth @shanaatjelove11 @warriorqueen1991 @caitydestroys @acklesdowneyandhiddles-ohmy @jaylaelizabethw @prettyepiic @negans-dirty-girl @mamaredd123 @jdmsgal @alyisdead @memphisgirl1977 @xnegansgirlx @dontblink94 @freaktesque @crzcorgi @jaylaelizabethw @jmackie1983 @hughxjackman @deadlymistress24  @babyblues915 @fxcking-negan @keithmoonmoon​ @fvshvncvnt @*As always, please let me know if you want to be added to the tags or if you wanted to be taken off!*

Pacing back and forth in his room, Max could feel his heart pounding in his chest. He looked to the time and let out a stressed sound as he thought about the last few days. There was part of him that wanted to call Y/N, but there was another part of him that wanted to go back to his old ways knowing that this was the time that Juliet typically got up and ready. Last night when he came home and saw Juliet leaving, Max found himself still heavily charmed with her. He knew that it was wrong for him and that things went very wrong with her as it was, but he couldn’t help finding himself still absolutely enamored with her. Maybe it was the interaction he had with August earlier in the morning, but Max was feeling really down on himself today. When he had tried to give August his medicine, August verbally attacked him. August called him names and called him a weak man. It was almost like his grandfather knew when life was at the hardest and knew when to push him to his breaking point. Max was on the edge and hurt. It was two things that he never really handled well. He knew that Y/N told him that the words from others should never hurt him, but he was too upset to even try to think past what his grandfather said. If your own family didn’t love you, then who the hell else would? That was his thoughts at least. August was his blood and he was supposed to love him, but he didn’t and deep down that tore Max apart. It was a bad habit, but when Max was upset he often thought about things that would get his mind off his life. His past and his present. The one that seemed to keep toying in his mind was both Juliet and Y/N. The only thing was, Juliet was closer at the time and that was the thing he couldn’t seem to get his mind off of. Maybe there was enough time in the day to focus on both the women in his life. Juliet was so close and maybe afterward he would get to maybe get the chance to call Y/N to talk about things. Quickly moving through the building, Max snuck into the maintenance area behind the walls. It had become his safe spot. It had become the place in his life that he had grown accustomed to and where he felt the most comfortable. He knew that it was wrong to spy on people, but it was the one way he felt accepted into someone’s life without having to be around them. He always had social issues and by being able to spy on others, it felt like he was taking part in their lives, even when he really wasn’t and that seemed to comfort him. Moving to the area closest to Juliet’s apartment, he moved carefully because he knew that she would be up and about. The slightest sound could set someone off and he knew how capable it was behind the walls to have someone hear him. Pushing things aside quietly, he moved as careful as possible and tried to look into her apartment. It took him several tries until he finally saw her in her bedroom. Gulping down, he peered into the hole trying to see her move clearly. She was standing near her dresser in just her bra and he could feel a lump growing at the bottom of his throat. He couldn’t explain it, but there was something about her that still drove him crazy and Max couldn’t quite put his finger on it. When she pulled out a shirt and pulled it down her body, he could see her reaching for her things and he moved to the next part of her apartment where he could watch her. When he saw her grabbing her things and walking toward her door to leave, he scrambled to his feet and made his way out from behind the walls. Quickly moving through his apartment, he made sure that August was still sleeping before moving out after Juliet. He was thankful that when he made it down the stairs that Juliet was just getting out of the elevator. Waiting behind, he made sure that she didn’t spot him before he followed her down the street. Always making sure to keep far enough of space between the two of them so she didn’t realize that he was following her. By now Max had already figured out her morning routines and knew that she would be headed to her favorite local coffee shop. It was one that he had grown accustomed to going. Y/N had taken him there the other night and he knew that Juliet made her stop there every morning. Following her closely, Max watched Juliet as she ordered her drink and he cautiously moved into the shop with her. He didn’t know how to approach her. It had been a few days since their last encounter and they hadn’t spoken since it happened. It probably wasn’t a good thing to almost sleep with someone and then just up and disappear. Then again, she never attempted to contact him either. There were so many things he wanted to say to her, but how would he even begin to approach her? He didn’t want Juliet knowing that he had been watching her and following her. Then again, if he acted just as surprised as she did to see him, then maybe it would be alright. Hell, they lived in the same place, it would make sense that they both went to the same coffee shop. Stepping forward, he could see Juliet’s dark eyes meet his and she seemed nervous at first before offering up a smile. “Hey,” she spoke out and Max could feel his heart flutter. He knew that he should have let his emotions for her go, but as she smiled out at him, he couldn’t help feeling the way he did. There was always something so charming about her nervousness. It was like she was almost as awkward as he was with being social. She was sweet, smart and just…very nervous and that appealed to him. At times he thought that maybe she was more like him than he even knew. Watching her like he did made him realize that they were more alike than he could have ever imagined. He knew that he should have let things go with her, but there was something so deeply that attracted him to her. Maybe it was the fact that she was a doctor that helped people. She took care of those that needed it and Max wanted that so deeply. Someone to take care of him when he was down and hurt. There was just something about Juliet that he wanted to capture in his life. Have her be with him. “Hey,” he repeated tipping in to press a soft kiss over the side of her face. He wanted to say so much to her, say things that he knew would change things between the two of them, but he was worried that if he was honest with her about how he felt for her, that he would scare her. “Uhm, I’ve been meaning to talk to you.” “Yeah,” she cut him off and he could feel his cheeks blushing over when she spoke. “Look I’m sorry it suddenly felt weird. It had nothing to do with you, I just…I need more time.” “It’s okay, you know that tells me that you take being with someone seriously and I like that,” he smiled brightly when he heard the words she said. She needed more time. She didn’t say that she didn’t want him at all. It excited him more than she could ever imagine, but panic started to set in. When she said nothing more after his comment, he pushed his hands into his pockets and began to stammer. Maybe she didn’t mean it the way that he took it. Then things started to twist in his mind. If she wanted to be with him, she would have just come out and said it right? “But I was thinking about it and maybe we shouldn’t have done that. You know, uhm, being that we live in the same building and all.” “Really?” she seemed shocked and he could tell that his words brought relief. Of course he didn’t mean it. He was just telling her what he thought she wanted to hear after her silence. Maybe he was testing the waters to see if she actually still wanted to attempt things with him, but when excitement pressed in over her features he could feel himself starting to ramble again. He was disappointed and sad. What he felt for Juliet seemed one sided and the more that she spoke it felt like she thought the things that went on were a mistake. “No offense, I just needed company I guess,” Max replied and he truly found that to be the understatement of the year. After being alone for so long, he just wanted to someone to want him and be there for him. Juliet was the first person that sparked his interest in a long time and he just wished that she could see him the way that he saw her. He saw someone amazing. Someone that he could spend his life with and change for. He just wished that she would have given him that shot to be the person he knew that he could have been for her. “I’m so glad you feel the same way,” her words came out like bricks when he realized that she thought what happened between them was a mistake. Gulping down, he bit into his bottom lip and nodded. This whole time he told himself that it would turn out like this, but he hoped that he was wrong. Max hoped that Juliet might have been different than what he expected her to be. “I just…it’s meant a lot to me the last couple of weeks.” Max nodded and watched her closely. Inside he was crushed. He had nothing more to say as he looked her over. He wished he had something charming to say, but all he could feel was pain. The ache from being turned down yet again from someone else was too much for him. The last few weeks meant more to him than she would have ever began to imagine. A few weeks for her were a few months for him. When he had seen her in the hospital when he was with August, he so deeply wanted to approach her, but couldn’t. When he saw her flyer, he thought it was the perfect opportunity. He thought it was a sign, but once again the world was fucking with him. “Well, I should go…I…” she still seemed uncomfortable as he nodded. “I’ll see you.” “Yeah, have a nice day,” Max spoke up almost sadly, not like she noticed as she passed around him. The fact that she confirmed that what happened between them was nothing more than a mistake hurt. It felt like she was desperate to get away from him and that really dug the knife in deeper. He didn’t force her to be around him as hard as he would have liked. When she threw herself at him, he thought it was perfect, but now that she didn’t want to even be around him…it really crushed his heart. It was clear that she didn’t feel for him the way he felt for her and it really put a strain in his mind and body. He thought that by putting the idea that they shouldn’t put forward anything into the relationship that she might fight for it. Tell him it was worth trying again, but she folded so easily it showed that their time together meant nothing. It was just a mistake to her and it really bothered him. He saw so much more in it and the fact she didn’t even remotely feel for him the way he felt for her destroyed him. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he squeezed his fingers into a tight fist at his right side. Looking to the coffee, he now regretted coming here. This was an awful start to the day. First his fight with August and now this. What else could go wrong? “Y/N,” Max gasped when he turned on his heel and let out a tight breath when he realized that she was standing behind him in the coffee shop. Clinging to his coffee, he let out a nervous sound and could see her staring out at him with her bright eyes. It almost looked like she regretted being there and he could feel his heart start to race in his chest. Her eyes looked away from him nervously and he felt panicked again. “How long have you been here?” “Oh, uh…” she was stuck on her words and Max could tell that by her reaction that she clearly saw his interaction with Juliet. Suddenly feeling a sense of worry rushing through him, he attempted to move in to kiss her only to feel her turn her head and he kissed her on the cheek. Gulping down heavily, he could feel the lump in the center of his throat grow larger as he moved away slowly. Shit, she was mad at him and he could tell. She lived so damn close as well. He had come here with Y/N in the past; he should have known that it was possible she would show up. “So that was Juliet, huh?” “Yeah,” he nodded feeling his throat go dry. He wanted to say something to make the moment better, but he didn’t know what to say. Looking down to the ground, he stuttered a bit and never really made out any clear words before huffing heavily. Nodding toward the door, he could see her eyes shift and he shrugged. “Maybe we can go talk outside for a moment?” “Yeah,” Y/N seemed uncomfortable when Max put his hand in over the center of her back to lead her toward the door outside. He cleared his throat again as he began to speak when they moved for the small garden that was across the street. “Listen, that wasn’t what it looked like in there.” “It looked like you were someone that was absolutely head over heels in love with a girl,” she responded with a sigh as Max frowned when she spoke the words. She wasn’t exactly wrong. She clung to the bag that was at her side and he could see she was sad with what down. This was a look he never saw on her from the first day he met her. She was always so light and bubbly. “And when she turned you down, it looked like you were crushed. I’ve been able to read your emotions since day one Max, don’t try denying that.” “Alright,” Max muttered almost in a whisper and he could see her pushing her fingertips throughout her long hair. She was right; there was no lying to her. He was never able to do it thus far, so there was no attempting it now. “I just…” “Clearly yesterday was a mistake. You were upset about a girl and I was there being nice to you. I knew from day one that you were in love with this girl, so expecting anything beyond a friendship was wrong on my part,” Y/N spoke up and he could feel a rush throughout his veins. Shaking his head, he tried to move forward, but she held her hands up to block him from moving closer. “No, I get it. I’m a rebound person and I was really only meant to be your friend in the first place.” “Whoa, hey. Hold on,” Max tried to stop her from continuing on with her words and he shook his head. “That’s not true. Yes, I like Juliet. I have this…feeling for her that I haven’t been able to shake, but you aren’t the rebound. I like you. I like you a lot. Everything I’ve said to you isn’t a lie. I’m not someone who kisses first. I wait because I’m always afraid that the person I care about won’t feel the same, but last night I kissed you first. What we had was special. I wouldn’t take those moments back for anything.” “If they were special, then why are you still trying to get Juliet to notice you and want you?” she questioned him and he felt very guilty suddenly. He had a perfect night last night and she was absolutely right. There was no reason for him to attempt what he just did when he had an amazing evening with her. “I get it Max, don’t worry about it.” “Listen, when I kiss you…” Max tried to reach out to stop her when she walked away. When she kept walking, he grasped her wrist roughly and pulled her back to him. A wince escaped her lips at the pressure he had on her wrist and he pulled his hand away, giving her an apologetic look. “What I feel with you is different than what I feel for her. I’m happy when I’m with you. When you kiss me, I feel things I’ve never felt in my life Y/N. You make me feel things that I’ve never thought were possible.” “But it still wasn’t enough,” she pointed out and he could feel his throat tensing. He had no idea what to say to make her believe him, but he knew he just messed up really bad. “If it made you happy, if I truly made you happy, you wouldn’t be in search for something more with Juliet. When you were in front of her, I didn’t even exist Max and that’s not the kind of person that I can be with. I was the stupid one for crushing on you and flirting with you. You picked up on my flirting and it just started something that was nice while it lasted, but now I think we both realize that the relationship is very unrealistic. I’m just meant to be your friend and that’s it.” “No. I don’t think of it like that,” Max stammered trying to reach out to her, but she wouldn’t let him touch her. “Can we just go somewhere to talk? Hang out for a while and just talk things over calmly?” “I don’t have time Max,” she shook her head and he could see that she was avoiding eye contact with him. He tried to plead with her, but she was having none of it. “I had a really shitty morning, okay? I was giving August his medicine and he said some really nasty things about me. Called me weak and said things about my father,” Max’s voice cracked and he could see her upset eyes meeting his. He threw his hands up and tried to play out what happened in his head. “I was upset and I wasn’t thinking right. I started thinking like I did before I started talking to you and I just…I was really upset. Juliet was there and I was just thinking about how much I thought she would make me happy in the past. If the thing with August…” “Max, we can blame a lot on your grandfather because let’s be honest, the man is an asshole,” Y/N snapped and Max could feel his jaw tensing tightly. She was very right and it didn’t bother him that she said it, it bothered him that he knew it wasn’t going to be very positive with what she said next. “But we can’t blame him for you still being in love with someone. I’m sorry he was mean to you Max, but that doesn’t change things here. If I was important, if I was the one you wanted to move forward with, that moment right there wouldn’t have just happened.” “I’m begging you to please just take a moment and sit with me. We can talk about things,” Max begged only to see her stepping backwards and away from him. He felt his body trembling slightly when he felt her pulling away from. “Y/N, please?” “I have to go home and get ready for work. I have two jobs that need to be done today Max,” Y/N answered and he frowned when she denied him the chance. “We can still be friends, don’t worry though, we can just pretend that what happened the other night, didn’t.” “I don’t want to pretend that it didn’t happen,” Max called out as he watched her start to walk back in the direction of her home. Max stood there frozen. He didn’t know how to handle normal situations, let alone ones like this. “Please…I’m sorry.” Y/N kept walking and Max could feel an ache in his chest. That was two women that denied him today. One was someone who clearly didn’t care for him and the other was one that cared for him greatly, but he hurt because he was too blind to see a good thing when it was right there in front of him. In the situation he was in now, he wasn’t sure how to even respond other than to go into his dark ways. He needed to make a choice and he needed to make one fast.

---------

Standing outside of Y/N’s apartment, Max could feel his chest rising and falling as he waited. When she took off on him, Max did the one thing that he knew that he was good at. He followed her. He didn’t know how to approach her or what to even say, but he knew that he had to talk to her. When she hadn’t come out, he had begun to wonder if she had lied to him about having a job to do today. Stepping in closer to the doors of her apartment building, he looked inside to see one of her neighbors moving down the stairs. Stepping aside quickly, he knelt down to act like he was tying his shoe. He waited long enough for the guy to leave the building and he quickly stumbled for the door before it closed. Pushing it open, he moved up the steps toward her apartment and took a long down the hallway. It was empty and as he approached the door of her apartment, he heard the sound of the handle starting to wiggle and he quickly moved back toward the opposite hallway. Quickly hiding himself, he watched Y/N carrying some things out of her apartment and gulped down as he watched her closely. He watched her start to move toward the stairs to leave, but heard her cuss out and drop the things that she was carrying. She searched her body for something before looking over her shoulder. Max quickly hid himself, hoping that she wasn’t able to see him and when he looked back carefully he could see that she was messing with the decorative plant in the hallway. She was pushing in the pot and Max’s nose wrinkled as he watched her. A smirk pressed in over the corners of his lips when he saw her pull out a key and watched her walk over toward her door to open it. Soon after, she came back out with her keys that she clearly had originally forgotten before heading back to the plant to place the spare key back where it was. When he heard her steps heading down the stairs, he moved forward and looked at the plant. Part of him wanted to grab that key and go into her room. Actually everything in his body wanted to do that, but when he heard her steps getting fainter, he knew that he actually wanted to follow her. See what she was doing today. He knew that he had things that he was supposed to get done at his apartment building, but when she told him off this morning, it really made him realize how desperate he actually was to keep her in his life the way that they were headed for before he messed it up. Quickly moving down the stairs, he waited at one of the landings to make sure she had left the building before he took off after her. He kept a good distance between the two of them. He knew that Y/N was perceptive and would be able to catch onto him if he didn’t stay far back enough. When he saw her stop at a park, he paused on the sidewalk and took a look around. Obviously, he couldn’t follow her into the small park. She would spot him in an instant. Taking a look at the buildings, he spotted a small coffee shop and decided that he would hang out there to watch her. It was the safest spot to keep hidden so she couldn’t spot him. It was right across the street, but he thought it would be far enough away that it would definitely be the best spot to spy on her.

It seemed like she was setting up for a photo shoot as he took a seat near one of the windows to watch her. Biting into his bottom lip, he tapped his fingers against the top of the table while he watched her take photos of a couple. He assumed that it was for an engagement of some kind and while she looked happy, he could tell that what happened from this morning was still weighing in over her. Usually she had a lot more energy to her, but she was lagging today and he could see it. Maybe it was because he had grown to being around her and knowing her energy, but he could tell that she was faking her excited actions. He should have felt awful for what happened earlier, but he really didn’t. Yeah, he felt guilty, but the fact that he could upset her that much over what happened this morning meant that she really felt for him. Her affection for him wasn’t fake. It wasn’t just a moment like Juliet had been. She genuinely cared about Max and the fact he could hurt her meant that her compassion for him was real. When she started packing up, he carefully got up from the table and moved outside of the coffee shop. He waited in one of the alleyways watching her closely as she grabbed her things. The sun was starting to set and he knew that she said she had two jobs to do today.

Following her closely when he had seen her head off in the other direction. He stopped when he watched her go into a club. The bouncer let her in and he let out an angered sound. Max was not very social. He hated going into busy places and doing things that was out of his comfort zone, but he knew that he wanted to follow her. To watch her and learn what she was doing. “You’re lucky you’re here early man, big event tonight,” the bouncer at the door handed Max one of the flyers and Max let out a disgusted noise. Great. Big event meant lots of people. Just the kind of thing that Max hated. Walking into the club, he held his hand up when he found himself blinded by the flashing lights that were around him.

It had been a very long time since he had been in place like this and he almost regretted coming in. That was until he spotted Y/N setting things up near the stage at the front of the club. Heading for the bar, Max took a seat at the far end to keep himself hidden from her. He ordered a drink and just stayed there. His eyes never left her. She seemed a bit stressed with all the work she had to do during the set up and as the night got later, the bouncer was right. It was a very, very busy night. It was hard to keep a watch on her as she clearly took photos of the event and the band that was playing. It must have been a popular group, but it was definitely one that Max had no idea of. Then again, he wasn’t very good with popular culture. “Shit…” Max stood up from the bar and looked around the crowded club as people danced. Pushing himself into the crowd, he realized that he had lost sight of Y/N. His eyebrow arched up as he could feel his heart racing. Quickly pushing himself further into the crowd, he could feel people all around him shoving at his body and he could feel the room around him closing. So many people around him, shoving into him and the loud music caused him to gasp for air. He hated places like this. Quickly pushing through the crowd, he looked for the quickest empty area and stumbled to get to it. It was hard to breathe, his heart was hammering and it felt like he was close to passing out. He was having a panic attack and he could feel it. His body felt like it was about to shut down. His heart hammered, the room spun around him and his whole body felt like jelly. It had been so long since had a full blown panic attack from his social anxiety, but as he stumbled for the table before him, he knew it was hitting him hard. Clutching onto the nearest table that he reached, he tried inhaling deeply to relax himself. Maybe it was time to just give up. He could feel his hands trembling and his eyes shifted uncomfortably. The loud music, the amount of people and the general feel of the club just made him extremely uncomfortable. Everything about this place was against everything that he was. Giving the area one final look over, he could see Y/N in the hallway leading toward the back of the stage standing on the ramp to get a better photo of the band and the people there. Gulping down, he felt a rush of courage flooding into his body and he quickly moved in her direction. The music was too loud for her to realize he was there as he moved in behind her. Hooking his arm around her waist, he pulled her back toward him and tugged her further up the ramp until they were in a private area of the hallway. Her body flailed against him as he pushed her firmly against the wall and he moved forward to press his lips heavily against hers. Her hand smacked at the center of his chest thinking that it was a stranger that had come up on her and when she realized it was Max, she pulled away and stared out at him with a confused expression. The sounds of the club were slightly muffled out while the two of them were together in the small hallway. “What the hell Max?” she blurted out, carefully setting her camera down on the ground before turning to him. Without further warning, Max slammed her against the wall again, causing a whimper to escape her lips before he was back at kissing her. His lips pressed in over hers again and again clearly hoping to elicit some kind of emotion in her after what happened this morning. A moan escaped her lips when he squeezed in over her sides firmly. Her mouth involuntarily opened to his as he pushed his tongue within her warmth. His kiss fooled her for a moment before she clearly got her thoughts back together. Her hands pressed in over his shoulders as she pushed him back and shook her head. “Did you follow me here?” “Follow you here?” Max muttered with a laugh when he thought of a reason he would know that she would be there. Shit. She was starting to catch onto his ways as he reached up to cup her jaw in his large palms and he shook his head. “I was in your apartment the other day. When you were in the shower I was looking around and saw…” “The calendar on the fridge,” she responded with a heavy sigh and Max nodded. She gave him a way out without him even having to try hard. She let out a noise showing that she felt stupid for accusing him of following her. Max moved into kiss her again and she pulled away from him. “What the hell are you doing here?” “Listen, I couldn’t end things the way that they did this morning,” Max began, his hands reaching out to cup her hips in his hands, squeezing at them tightly. He pulled her in closer to him and watched her shocked eyes staring out at him. “I came here; even though it’s against everything I am to find you. I can’t have you thinking that you are just a rebound Y/N. I care about you more than you will ever begin to know and…” “Max, I’m working,” she shut him down, pushing her hand into the center of his chest and his hazel eyes stared out at her with a saddened look. She firmly pushed into the center of his chest again, making him stumble back and toss his hands up in a confused manner. “I can’t do this right now. I have a job that I could get fired for because of this.” “Just wait,” Max tried to pull her hand to him and she pulled away from him with an angered breath. “Y/N, please?” “I just hope that I won’t get fired if someone saw this Max,” she let out another angered grunt before stomping off in the other direction and Max could feel an ache in his chest growing.

Slumping down, he brushed his fingers into his hair and let out an angered breath. Looking to the exit sign just down the hallway, he quickly got up and moved in that direction. Kicking his foot firmly into the door, he heard it slam open with a thud and he walked out into the alleyway.

Pacing back and forth, he let out an angry hiss before turning and kicking into the garbage cans in front of him. His body was tense, his mind running wild as he could feel the sense of rejection that he had grown accustomed to filling his body. He felt extreme rage and he didn’t know how to get rid of it. Moving down the alleyway, he spotted a building that seemed abandoned. Looking at the reflection of himself in the window, he felt the anger at seeing his own face. This was all of his own fucking fault and he never hated himself more than he did right now. It felt like everything was swallowing in closer to him and he felt a rage filling his body as he looked at his reflection. All of it seemed to build up inside of his head causing him to lash out as he swung his fist into the window. The hit was hard enough to make the glass shatter and he pulled his hand back to see that it was dripping with blood. The breaking of the glass clearly cut him, but he didn’t care. Looking around the alleyway, he made sure that he was alone before looking to his hand again. Squeezing it tightly, he watched a long line of blood drip from his hand and he huffed heavily. What he had just done with Y/N was totally against everything that he was and she still turned him down. He thought that if she knew he did it for her that she would forgive him, knowing the kind of person that he was and that wasn’t even close to what happened. She turned him down and she turned him down hard.

---------

Sitting in the empty apartment, Max looked to his hand that he had wrapped up. It wasn’t wrapped very well and the blood was soaking through it. It was a shit fix job on his end, but he really didn’t care. An angered breath escaped his lips as he wrapped his arms around his legs.

Rocking his body back and forth where he was seated in the corner of apartment, he could still feel his mind running wild. All night he had been up thinking about the things that had happened. It was now far into the morning and he was sitting in the apartment that he was currently renovating. Plastic was thrown out on the floor because he was supposed to be painting today, but he couldn’t find himself even ready to start. All the supplies were ready, but he couldn’t find the energy to get over his thoughts. Never in his life had he been turned away several times in one day and he couldn’t wrap his mind around it. Yesterday was just a very overall shitty day. One that really messed him up.

The sound of a knocking at the door seemed to pull him from his thoughts. Looking up, he saw the door slowly being pushed open and he let out a heavy breath when he saw Y/N standing in the doorway. He perked up and could feel the muscles in his face relaxing when he saw her stepping into the apartment with him. “Hey,” she spoke softly and Max quickly got to his feet, brushing off the dust that had accumulated on his clothes. Staring out at her with a confused expression, he watched her closing the door behind her and he didn’t know how to respond. “I went to your apartment and I talked to an older gentleman that told me you were in here. I’m guessing it was your grandfather and he thought I was a bill collector. Probably why he was eager to send me to you.” Max nodded and tilted his head to the side. He gulped down heavily. He didn’t even know how to respond to her. “Listen, I was wrong with the way I acted last night. I know that you hate big groups of people and you have social anxiety. It was a big thing for you to come out to me to try and apologize last night. I should have thought about that,” she began with a heavy sigh and Max could feel the tension in his chest loosening as he watched her closely. “I was still upset and I was distracted with work. It was one of the first bigger paying jobs that I have gotten since I’ve been here. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like I did.” “I understand, I shouldn’t have bothered you at work,” Max finally muttered with a frown. He shrugged his shoulders and looked down at the ground. He kicked slightly at the plastic that was put down on the wooden floor and shrugged. “You don’t have to apologize. I fucked up pretty bad yesterday.” “No, I do have to apologize. You didn’t deserve that. I got jealous and I acted like a child,” she moved in closer to the center of the room they were in and she folded her arms out in front of her chest. Her bright eyes stared out at him as he gulped down. “I care about you Max, a lot. More than I should because I knew that when we became friends that you were broken and needed a friend to be there for you. You were in love with someone and I knew that. I’m sorry that I let our relationship get…” “I care about you too,” Max blurted out with an uneasy breath. He reached up to caress his hand over his rough stubble and he shrugged his shoulders. “Y/N, yeah, I feel something for Juliet, but only because I’ve been…for lack of a better term, obsessed for quite some time. I should have been thinking clearer and I wasn’t. I lost track of the way that I felt the day before. You made me feel happiness for the first time in a very long time. I’ve never had a day where I felt happy throughout most of it. Typical days for me are quite awful. I mean, they are really bad. So when I was with you, I had never had a day where I could just relax and be…happy. With you, I have that. Yesterday, when you were upset with you…I don’t know if I’ve ever been that miserable. When you wouldn’t talk to me, I was just…I was miserable.” “Tell me you didn’t do that because of me,” she begged when she finally saw his right hand that was wrapped in the white bandage. He sighed heavily and looked down at his hand that had small drips of blood falling onto the plastic covering the floor. She moved across the room and looked down at his hand, taking the bandage and pulled it from his hand. Looking down at the gash over the inside of his palm, she let out a gasp and shook her head. “Max, what the hell?” “The best thing you could do for yourself right now is turn around and walk out those doors,” Max’s voice cracked as he felt her holding his hand in hers. His voice was broken and he could feel his body trembling when she traced over his rough hand. “I’m a monster Y/N. I will only upset you like I did last night. If not worse. I get angry, I get obsessive and I hurt myself when I’m upset. If you want to avoid that kind of life, I think the best thing that can happen between the two of is that you walk out that door and never look back. You should not be the one coming in to apologize to me. It should be the opposite way and you are way too good to be part of my life. I think the best thing you could do right now is just leave and forget that you ever met me.” “Is that really what you think?” she frowned, looking up at him with her saddened eyes. His eyes were red and she could tell that by his expression, he really believed everything that he said. Reaching out, she pressed her hand in over his stubble covered face and caressed it softly. He leaned into her touch and let out a trembling sigh and she shook her head. “It only tells me more how much you really need me in your life.” Max bit into his bottom lip as he watched her sigh before tipping up to meet his lips in a soft kiss and he breathed heavily against her lips when she pulled away. Max could feel her hands clutching at the side of his shoulders before reaching up to brush into his hair. “It’s going to take a lot more than everything that’s happened to get rid of me,” she insisted with a small smile as he leaned in to press his forehead against hers. He could feel his body trembling as she caressed her fingertips against his scalp in a calming manner. “I care about you Max and I don’t give up so easily on the people I care about.” “You should, I’m not worth it,” he sighed heavily and felt her moving into press another kiss against his lips. It was a very sweet, small kiss, but it was enough to make him let out a confused breath. “I’m really not. You deserve better than me in your life.”

“No. No I don’t. You are good,” she hushed him and she could feel his good hand reaching up to press in over hers. He looked down toward the ground and she urged him to meet her glance. “I’m sorry about last night. I promise not to get as mad at you as I did. I wasn’t thinking right and I know that you can’t be alone to your thoughts. You are never going to be alone Max. I’m going to be here for you no matter what. You understand me?”

“But I don’t deserve that,” Max insisted with a heavy sigh, feeling the ache that carried over him. His thoughts all night long had been miserable and yet she was still here for him saying these things. “I don’t think very highly of myself.” “Then we need to work on you, so you can start seeing the person that you can be,” she pulled away from him and looked down at his hand. She frowned when she looked to see the wound was still bleeding pretty good. “I think you are going to have to get this looked at Max.” “I’m alright,” Max assured her with a frown and she wrapped her palm around his wrist, tugging him toward the door. “Y/N, no.” “I have a friend that is a nurse. I think you need to get stitches on that and I’m not taking no for an answer,” she pulled him into the hallway and he quickly locked up the room. Looking over his shoulder, Max could see that his grandfather was standing in the hallway watching them as Y/N tugged him toward the stairs. He could see the look that his grandfather shot him and he knew the words that August was saying in his mind. Feeling the tug of Y/N’s hand over his arm, he brushed off the idea of his grandfather off and followed her down the winding staircase of his building. “In order to get this thing going between us, we have to start fixing things. Starting with this hand of yours.”

#Jeffrey Dean Morgan #The Resident #The Resident fanfiction #Max #my writing #imagine

[itsclydebitches]

Summary:

“He likes this song.”

“How can you possibly know that?”

In which Cisco is given seven months to fall in love with Barry Allen. It’s admittedly a little weird - what with Barry being unconscious and all - but since when was anything normal nowadays?

Fandom: The Flash (TV show)

Words: Through Chapter Four: 10,707 (will be around 12k total)

Warnings: None

Pairings: Barry/Cisco

Where to Read it: Below the cut or on AO3 (AO3 recommended for formatting)

Worth the Wait: Chapter Four

“Speed,” Dr. Wells said.

He made it sound like some huge, all-encompassing concept. Which, the more Cisco thought about it, it kind of was. Speed was at the root of all the coolness right now; it had taken over their previously snail-paced lives.

“Speed,” he said again, just in case they’d missed it. Dr. Wells was flipping through his chart with true ferocity. “We’ve established that Mr. Allen’s heart has been beating fast enough to fool even our machines. His body has, twice now, vibrated at a speed reminiscent of a seizure. I can only assume his accelerated healing is stemming from similar circumstances.”

Caitlin’s mouth twisted. “Kind of ironic considering that Barry is, you know, asleep.”

“Oh. So he’s ‘Barry’ now huh?” Cisco said and only cut the teasing when Dr. Wells pinned him with a stern look.

“He’s changing,” Dr. Wells emphasized. “We do not know when or even if Mr. Allen will wake, or what kind of state he’ll be in when he does. All we can do right now is keep him comfortable and remain observant. I hope I don’t have to remind you the kind of caution you’ll need to maintain from here on out...or the consequences if you do not.”

Cisco and Caitlin both nodded. Dr. Wells may have taken precautions after Barry had first moved in, but he’d gone into true, protective overdrive following his ‘death.’ Cisco knew that Dr. Wells had erased the last year of Barry’s medical history, disguising it as a system malfunction. That he’d paid off—even threatened—every medical professional that had come within a mile of Central City General, and had spoken at length with Joe and Iris regarding what they said to friends or family about Barry’s condition. Cisco knew because he’d been helping.

Ultimately he’d never expected to be committing felonies either. Although...were they felonies? Cisco didn’t know the law. Should he start learning it? Maybe. All he knew for sure was that this was probably Illegal and Bad... but not necessarily Wrong.

No. He looked at Barry, oddly vulnerable ever since that day, and thought again, no. This wasn’t wrong.

“We hear you, Dr. Well,” Caitlin said. She spoke for the both of them.

“Good.” Dr. Wells smiled then, an honest-to-god smile that filled up Cisco’s chest like a balloon. “You’re both free to go then. It’s been a long week. Go get some rest.”

Caitlin raised a pointed eyebrow. “And you?”

The smile remained. “I’ll be off soon. I promise.”

They’d heard that one before, but despite close quarters and new, impossible bonding experiences, Cisco wasn’t sure his and Dr. Wells’ relationship was at the ‘call you out on your shit’ stage yet. So he grabbed his jacket and waved Caitlin off, staying behind only briefly to turn off the other Levels’ lights via the access panel directly outside of the Cortex. Cisco was looking for his keys when he heard,

“You really are amazing.”

Cisco thought Dr. Wells was talking to him, until he caught the soft timber of his voice, the kind of tone a man like Wells would only use when he was sure the recipient couldn’t understand him—or hear. Sure enough, when Cisco quietly snuck back to look he found Dr. Wells directly beside Barry’s bed.

He’d rolled the blankets halfway up his waist and—after hoisting himself onto the bed in a surprising display of strength—took Barry’s left leg carefully in hand. Dr. Wells began a series of movements and stretches that Cisco recognized from the man’s own therapy sessions.

Caitlin was adamant that he attend them. What’s the point of exercising a useless limb, he’d snapped at her once.

Now here he was, doing it for Barry.

“I don’t simply mean your ...condition, either,” he continued. “Though I must say, that alone is quite fascinating. No, from all accounts you are an extraordinary young man. Your adoptive father speaks of you most highly. Your colleagues have nothing but praise. Based purely on Iris’ accounts, one would think that you’d hung the moon. Or the sun. Yes, that would perhaps be a more accurate saying...” Peeking around the corner, Cisco could just make out Dr. Wells shaking his head. “Well. I’ve always cared most about the mind, and I can say with certainty that I wish I’d nabbed you before the CCPD did. Perhaps we can re-negotiate your employment once you wake up.”

Cisco smiled, leaning heavily against the wall. He stared at the plaster on the other side.

It was silent in the Cortex and Cisco thought that perhaps that was all Dr. Wells had to say. Until, so softly he almost missed it, he caught,

“You’ve instilled great hope in us, Barry. In me most of all.” Cisco could easily imagine Dr. Wells’ hands tightening over pale skin, still careful not to bruise. “Won’t you wake up for us?”

Too personal. Cisco left, resolved to erase his little fit of eavesdropping from the security tape.

Dr. Wells deserved that much.

***

Cisco let his feet carry him away aimlessly. He didn’t feel much like going back to his empty apartment and he certainly wasn’t about to go home, parrying his mother’s questions about why he wasn’t making something of himself now that STAR Labs was officially closed. It didn’t matter how much he explained the good his inventions could still bring, or that Dr. Wells was paying him more than he’d ever find elsewhere. It wasn’t like Dante’s life, and it was therefore useless.

He grimaced. Cisco kept walking until dusk fell and the streetlights started coming on. When he finally looked up he was in a part of town he didn’t recognize, though the landmark was easy enough to know.

He’d walked to the CCPD.

“Why not,” Cisco murmured, jogging up the steps. It occurred to him in that moment that he knew everything about Barry digitally, as well as every inch of his body. It still didn’t feel like enough though... wouldn’t be enough until he could actually talk to him, but that wasn’t an option just yet. This felt like the next best thing.

The precinct turned out to be every bad cop movie Cisco had ever seen rolled into one: barely controlled chaos, men and women in blue flowing like water, yells of rage from perps as they were literally dragged away, the overwhelming scent of coffee. If someone had written this place down on paper Cisco would have judged them for stereotypes. Learning that this was reality though...it was somehow comforting. Like life was just a story.

“Can I help you?”

One of the men paused in the flow, dressed in muted browns instead of blue. It was David Singh, captain of the department, and of course Cisco would run into the boss when he had absolutely no reason for being here.

“Uh...actually no, not really.” Cisco rubbed at the back of his neck before fumbling and presenting his hand. “Captain.”

Singh’s eyes narrowed. “Let me guess. Cisco Ramon?”

“Y-yeah! How did you...?”

He snorted. “I’ve kept careful track of Mr. Allen’s condition since the accident. Frankly there aren’t too many five-foot six Puerto Ricans in these circles, let alone one with a penchant for novelty t-shirts.”

“Right.” Cisco smoothed down his TARDIS shirt. “That’s actually kind of impressive.”

“They pay me to notice things,” Singh drawled. “C’mon,” and he started marching off towards the back, leaving Cisco with nothing to do but follow. Or leave. Which would be rude.

Somehow he didn’t think pissing off the police captain would be a good idea.

Or Barry’s boss, a voice whispered and Cisco growled at it to stop already.

The two of them piled into Singh’s office, him gesturing for Cisco to grab the rickety chair in front of his desk. Despite the cordiality it felt a little like he was about to go through an interrogation. Cisco willed himself to stop bouncing his knee.

“Here.” Singh slammed a paper cup of coffee down. “It takes like shit, but it gets you by. Joe isn’t here right now, if that’s who you’re looking for. You don’t actually have a crime to report, do you?”

Cisco took a sip and grimaced. It was awful. “Uh, no. Really. I’m sorry, this is weird and a huge imposition—”

Singh waved him back down. “Relax. If anything you’re doing me a favor. Can’t be working if I’m talking to you, yeah?” He sighed, leaning back in his chair and pulling out a small ball that he began tossing between his hands. At Cisco’s look he held it up for inspection. “Stress ball. My fiancé says it’ll help with my anger.” The disdain dripped out of Singh’s voice. “I’d like to see him be captain for a day and talk about ‘mental mindfulness.’”

“I’ve... actually got a boss like that.” Cisco chuckled. “Tells us to, you know, not die from the work while basically digging his own grave.”

Singh’s stare had intensified. “Wells?”

“...yeah.”

“He always did strike me as the eccentric type. Refined eccentric.”

“Pfff. Nah. No, no way. I mean he can pull it off for events, but the guy lives in sneakers and eats enough Big Belly Burger to drive our doctor up the wall.”

“Really?” Singh pulled a face that Cisco wasn’t sure how to interpret. “Good to know. That he’s human, that is.” That stare intensified once more. “How is he, then?”

They didn’t need to lay out who ‘he’ was—they weren’t talking about Dr. Wells anymore. Cisco hesitated, the warning to keep things under-wraps still ringing in his ears, but he also couldn’t lie. Not about Barry.

“Still asleep,” he finally settled on. “Well. ‘Sleep.’ Coma, I mean. You know. We... still don’t know if he’ll wake up.”

“He will.” Singh said it with so much certainty that it actually made Cisco jealous. “Barry Allen is the biggest pain in my ass and has been for nearly two years now. He’s off,” Singh pointed, “miles away, unconscious, and he still manages to drive me to distraction. Case in point,” and when his finger honed in on Cisco he took another loooong sip of coffee, taste be damned. “Allen is the most singularly stubborn man in the whole goddamn universe. He’ll wake up just to force me into an early retirement, mark my words.” Singh shook his head.

Cisco was fascinated despite himself. The captain sounded annoyed...but Cisco also knew that tone well. It was the annoyed ‘I kind of love to hate you’ tone that belonged solely to parents with unruly children—and apparently police captains with their forensic scientists.

“Was he really that bad?” Cisco asked.

Singh held up a hand and wiggled all his fingers, ticking them down methodically. “Habitually late, to everything. Incapable of keeping his mouth shut. Frequently embarrasses himself as well as this whole precinct. Once accidentally ordered 72 pizzas—” Singh nodded at the look on Cisco’s face. “Uh huh. I said seven for a sergeant’s party and two for those still out on patrol. But oh no, he somehow heard that wrong. What fool thinks we need that many pies? I told Allen he’d be paying for it and he promptly pulled these, these,” Singh made a complicated gesture, “puppy eyes on me, blabbing about how he was still trying to pay off student loans. I ended up paying out of pocket. Goddamn the kid.”

“Oh man,” Cisco breathed. “That actually sounds like something Barry would do.”

“You know him?”

“Well...” Did he? It really felt like Cisco did, but... “Sort of.”

Singh cracked a little smile, like he actually understood all the insane, overwhelming complications of that sentence. He tossed the stress ball back into its drawer and leaned over his desk, effectively pinning Cisco in his seat.

“You know I’m the one who found him?” he said, so much quieter than before. “Not many people do. In an emergency like that no one pays attention to how people get out or who gets them to the hospital, they just care that they do. But I found him. Amidst all that fucking chaos I still had time to think, ‘Hey, where’s Allen? Where’s that damn shadow of mine?’ And I climbed those stairs, I walked into that lab...” Singh’s mouth tightened briefly. “You know how shit slows down in dreams? How you just know something bad is about to happen?”

Cisco swallowed hard. “Yeah.”

“Just like that. Whole power grid was blown—you know that—so it took me a moment to see him in the dark, and... Jesus. Just Jesus. The bolt threw him clear across the room, Ramon, into a whole rack of beakers with who knows what in them. Allen looked like a rejected thing out of an old sci-fi flick, fluids everywhere and his clothes half charred away. The smell...” Singh stopped again, running a hand down his face. “I thought fuck, no way the kid survived, but there he was, still breathing. Still goddamn breathing. Even now.”

Cisco kept staring desperately into his coffee cup. He’d wanted to know more about Barry. He could admit that now. He just wasn’t sure he’d wanted to know this.

...but of course that was a lie. He wanted everything.

“You seem like a good kid,” Singh said. “Go back to that fancy lab of yours and give Allen’s ass a good kick for me. Tell him to wake the fuck up already. He’s got work to do.” The last part didn’t sound nearly as detached as Singh probably hoped it did.

“Yes, sir. I will, sir.”

"Good man."

And Cisco did. It was late now and he should have turned straight for home, hailed a cab like any normal person on the block, but instead he walked all the miles back to STAR Labs. He keyed in his code and didn’t bother to turn the lights back on. Dr. Wells was long gone and Cisco relied on pure memory to reach the Cortex. Barry was still lying there—always lying there—but tonight he looked almost ethereal. He glowed. He was a bright spark in the darkness; like lightning.

“Wake up,” Cisco said, trying to imbue some sort of power into his words. It came out too desperate though. “Just wake up already.”

He had to raise up on tiptoe to reach over the bed. Cisco smoothed back Barry’s hair and placed a firm kiss on his forehead, thinking of stupid, whimsical things like fairy tales and true love’s kiss. It was an act he never could have done during the day, but at night so much more seemed possible.

“Wake up,” he whispered a third time, directly against Barry’s skin. If this had been a story Barry would have opened his eyes.

But it wasn’t, and they weren’t.

Cisco pulled back, acknowledging how warm Barry’s skin was—and the cold feeling it left in his chest.

He left.

#Flash #The Flash #Barry/Cisco #Barry Allen #Cisco Ramon #flashfic