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lesbian-deadpool · 5 years

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Rocky Raccoon

Y/N has created a chat.

Y/N has renamed the chat: Earths Mightiest Survivors

Y/N has added, Steve, Natasha, Bruce, Thor, Rocket, Okoye, Rhodey.

Y/N: Hey, so how are all of you on this fine day? :)

Okoye: What's wrong with her?

Natasha: This is her way of trying to cope with everything.

Y/N: I :) Am :) So :) Sad :)

Y/N: Ouch :) The :) Heartbreak :)

Steve: You know what makes me sad, Y/N?

Steve: The chat name!

Steve: THE CHAT NAME

Y/N: It may make you sad. But, hey, at least it's accurate :)

Bruce: She still has her sass I see.

Y/N: Hi Bruice, you know what I'm still wondering about? When you're gonna get off of your smart ass and GET TONY OUT OF SPACE

Thor: How do we even know he's still alive?

Y/N: GASP! THOR, HOW DARE YOU?!

Bruce: TAKE THOSE WORDS OUT OF YOUR MOUTH RIGHT NOW!

Thor: I'M SO SORRY. I'm just so sad.

Thor: I've lost, almost everything important to me. I just want you to be prepared for bad news if it comes. Which I dearly hope it does not.

Natasha: I've never seen Thor sad before.

Natasha: I don't like it.

Steve: No one does.

Bruce: It's breaking my heart.

Y/N: Ditto, to both of those.

Natasha: Take it back.

Natasha: Where's the receipt?

Natasha: I don't want sad Thor anymore.

Okoye: Quick someone make him happy.

Y/N: ON IT

Y/N: SQUIRREL TALK TO ME

Y/N: FUR BABY

Y/N: FLUFFY BOY

Y/N: What does Thor call you?

You: Oh yeah!

Y/N: RABBIT

Y/N: TALK TO ME RABBIT

Rocket: WHAT? WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT?!

Rocket: Why won't you just let me cry in peace?

Natasha: Hold on. How does he have a phone?

Bruce: He's from space, probably had one the whole time.

Natasha: Makes sense.

Okoye: Or he stole one.

Natasha: That makes more sense.

Y/N: Hi, Rocky Raccoon.

Rocket: It's Rocket.

Y/N: Rocky Raccoon.

Rocket: Rocket. AND I'M NOT A RACCOON

Natasha: Does he really not know he's a raccoon?

Steve: I don't think so.

Bruce: Well he is a TALKING raccoon, from SPACE, maybe he's never seen one before.

Okoye: I say we show him one.

Steve: No, that would be awful, and most likely scaring.

Natasha: Yes, that would be so awful.

Natasha: Let's do it.

Steve: Natasha! I thought better of you!

Natasha: Did you really?

Steve: No. No, I actually didn't.

Y/N: Rocky Raccoon.

Rocket: Rocket.

Y/N: Rocky Raccoon.

Rocket: Rocket!

Steve: What is she doing?

Natasha: I have no clue. But I am enjoying this immensely.

Okoye: Same here, I just made some popcorn.

Natasha: Cool, can I have some?

Okoye: Sure.

Bruce: What about me?

Okoye: No.

Bruce: What? Why?

Okoye: There's not enough.

Bruce: Oh, okay. Fine.

Thor: May I have some? I am so very depressed.

Okoye: Of course.

Bruce: WHAT

Bruce: I don't get any, but he does?

Bruce: I see how it is.

Okoye: Ugh! Fine, you can have some.

Bruce: YAY

Steve: How can any of you eat at a time like this?!

Okoye: Leave us alone, Steve.

Natasha: Yeah, this is how we grieve.

Thor: With delicious popped corn.

Bruce: And watching Y/N be weird.

Y/N: Rocky Raccoon.

Rocket: ROCKET!

Y/N: Rocky Raccoon checked into his room. Only to find Gideon's bible.

Rocket: What? Who the fuck is Gideon?

Y/N: But Rocky had come equipped with a gun. To shoot off the legs of his rival.

Rocky: Your leg's? Cause they soon will be, if you don't stop this shit.

Y/N: His rival it seems had broken his dreams. By stealing the girl of his fancy.

Y/N: Her name was Magill and she called herself Lil. But everyone knew her as Nancy.

Rocky: Who the fuck is that?!

Rocky: I don't know anyone called Magill, Lil, or Nancy, whatever the fuck her name is.

Natasha: Steves head's about to explode with the amount of swearing in this chat.

Steve: That's never gonna go away is it?

Thor: Never goNNA GIVE YOU UP

Bruce: Thor how do you know that?!

Natasha: I'm dyING.

Thor: Y/N taught me before I left for... Asgard...

Okoye: Is he alright?

Bruce: He's dissociating. He'll be fine in a minute.

Y/N: Now she and her man who called himself Dan. Were in the next room at the hoedown.

Rocket: Who in the hell is Dan?!

Y/N: Rocky burst in, and grinning a grin. He said, "Danny boy, this is a showdown".

Rocket: What the hell is she doing?

Steve: No clue.

Thor: Nor I.

Natasha: Wait! I do. And just let me tell you, it's amAZING.

Steve: Natasha you're enjoying this a bit too much.

Natasha: I am enjoying this the regular amount, Steven.

Bruce: Is she alright?

Steve: Probably not. We're all going a little crazy with grief.

Okoye: Not me bitch. I'm just the same old, Michonne.

Steve: Who?

Y/N: But Daniel was hot, he drew first and shot. And Rocky collapsed in the corner.

Y/N: Now the doctor came in stinking of gin. And proceeded to lie on the table.

Y/N: He said, "Rocky, you met your match".

Rocket: Do you wanna meet yours?

Thor: YeS FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT

Natasha: FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT

Okoye: Twenty on Y/N.

Bruce: Nah, no offence to Y/N, but Rocket would destroy her.

Natasha: Are you shitting me, Bruce? Y/N has kicked MY ass, the raccoon's no match for her.

Thor: I have to disagree with you, Lady Natasha. Have you seen Rabbits gun? She would be dead within a second.

Natasha: We NEVER said anything about weapons!

Okoye: Yeah, what are you? Some sort of monster?

Thor: No of course not.

Natasha: But I do guess they could have armour and equally matched weapons.

Steve: What?

Steve: NO

Steve: NO BETTING ON THEM. NO MAKING THEM FIGHT. NO CONSIDERING WHO WOULD WIN IN A FIGHT BETWEEN THEM. AND ESPECIALLY NO GLADIATOR STYLE FIGHTING.

Natasha: Ooo, bolded, and italics, you are mad.

Steve: I'm not mad. Just disappointed.

Natasha: No not that, that's worse!

Thor: Not the eyebrows of disappointment! Anything but the eyebrows of disappointment!

Bruce: We're sorry, please forgive us.

Okoye: Why do I feel like I need this random white guy to be proud of me.

Bruce: That's the power of, Steve Rogers.

Natasha: Some may think it's his advanced EVERYTHING that makes him a superhero. But it's not. His true superpower is making you want him to be proud of you.

Natasha: It's a curse for everyone who's not him.

Y/N: And Rocky said, "Doc, it's only a scratch. And I'll be better, I'll be better, Doc, as soon as I am able".

Rocket: I'll give you a scratch soon...

You: Now Rocky Raccoon, he fell back in his room. Only to find Gideon's bible.

Rocket: Once again, who the fuck is Gideon? WHO THE FUCK ARE ANY OF THESE PEOPLE?!

Y/N: Gideon checked out, and he left it no doubt. To help with good Rocky's revival.

Rocket: I hated every minute of that.

Bruce: Yes, yes. That was amazing.

Natasha: Standing ovation worthy.

Y/N: Thank you, thank you. I perform to make people happy.

Thor: So entertaining.

Rocket: You bastard.

Okoye: Gotta love me a free performance, however, where is the tip jar? My black card's gotta go somewhere.

Rocket: I fucking hate you all.

Rocket has left the chat.

Thor: Oh, no rabbit.

Thor: :(

Steve: See, look you made our new friend sad.

Natasha: I doubt that. I just taught him how to use YouTube, now he's humming along to it.

Natasha: Btw Steve. Better student than you.

Steve: I'm gonna go ahead and ignore that.

Steve: Y/N?

Y/N: Hmm?

Steve: What the hell was that?

Y/N: Rocky Raccoon?

Y/N: The Beatles?

Steve: ???

Y/N: You don't know The Beatles?!

Steve: I've heard of them.

Y/N: But you never listened?

Steve: No?

Y/N: DISGUSTING. YOU DIRTY HEATHEN SINNER.

Y/N: You've been in the modern world now for what? Six years? And it never occurred to you once, to listen to The Beatles?!

Y/N: I'm disappointed in you, Steven.

Steve: What?

Natasha: Oh, no. That's so much worse than Steve's disappointment.

Thor: I pity you, Sir Steve.

Bruce: You know you've done something awful if Y/N is disappointed in you.

Okoye: I don't even know who she is, and I know that.

Natasha: Just out of curiosity. Are you ever gonna do that again? Cause I loved that. A lot.

Y/N: Yes. I have one for everybody.

Bruce: Do Tony's. I miss his presence in this chat.

Y/N: Yeah, sure. I have more than one for Tony.

Steve: Wait. Why does Tony get more than one?

Natasha: Someone's jealous they only got a beard in the divorce.

Steve: What?

Bruce: You say that a lot.

Steve: That's because I am in a constant state of confusion, thanks to all of you.

Natasha: You're welcome.

Steve: That wasn't a compliment.

Natasha: But still...

Bruce: No wait. Do Tony's later. I remembered his face, and I need to go cry.

Bruce: Again.

Bruce: Bye.

Bruce has left the chat.

Steve: Poor guy.

Y/N: Speaking of leaving the chat.

Y/N: Steve, piss off, and go listen to The Beatles. Now.

Steve: ... okay.

Steve has left the chat.

Y/N: Thor would you please join him?

Thor: Of course. I am quite excited.

Thor has left the chat.

Y/N: At least he's happy.

Natasha: At the expense of Bruce crying?

Y/N: You win some you lose some.

Y/N: But in all honesty. It turned out better than I originally planned. I would have made you all cry if it meant Thor was happy.

Natasha: I see, and I wholly agree.

Okoye: That man is a giant puppy, and needs to be protected at all costs. If it came to it, I would sacrifice all of you for him in a heartbeat.

Y/N: Omg, thank you for the compliment.

Natasha: That is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.

Y/N: I'm gonna go watch Thor be happy now, and force Steve to listen to the best songs.

Y/N: Deuces!

Natasha: Bye, Y/N.

Okoye: Bye.

Y/N has left the chat.

Natasha: That song really made me want some gin, I'm gonna go find some.

Okoye: Oh, count me in!

Natasha has left the chat.

Okoye has left the chat.

Rhodey: You add me to this chat

Rhodey: While I'm passed out after crying over Tony.

Rhodey: An hour I was asleep. AN HOUR!

Rhodey: I LEFT YOU ALONE FOR AN HOUR!

Rhodey: And you do this shit?!

Rhodey has left the chat.

Rhodey has joined the chat.

Rhodey: Also, Y/N would totally kick Rocket's ass.

Rhodey has left the chat.

Wade has joined the chat.

Wade has added, Loki.

Wade: Don't act like you're dead you little shit.

Wade has added, Scott.

Wade: Is you Skrull? Is you Loki?

Wade has added, Clint.

Wade: And what the fuck happened to you?

Wade: Oh, no wait! We can't find out till April! Like I can wait that long!

Wade: Bye bitches, see you then. I'm gonna go get ME some gin and tacos, and gorge myself into a food and alcohol-induced coma until April!

Wade has left the chat.

Clint: What was that?

Scott: No clue.

Loki: Your regular local dumbass is my guess.

Wade has joined the chat.

Wade: NO TALKING UNTIL ENDGAME, HOES!

Clint has been disconnected.

Scott has been disconnected.

Loki has been disconnected.

Wade: APRIL!

Wade: Also, did you know that the song, Rocky Raccoon, is what inspired the creation of our favourite homicidal furball.

Wade: The more you know, right?

Wade: anyway...

Wade: APRIL!

The chat has unexpectedly been disconnected.

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kae-karo · 6 years

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Demons and Diners: Nightmare Before Christmas

Nightmare Before Christmas

Read Demons and Diners first! This is part 1.5 in the series.

5.4k word count

Summary: Dan's helping Phil get set up for the annual Christmas-ish party by decorating the mansion, but something about the way Phil's been treating him lately has started to grate on his nerves. TW descriptions of panic attack

“Phil? No, no, Phil what are you doing?” I laugh at him - he’s about four feet above the top of my head, trying to hang an incredibly ornate wreath in the grand ballroom. “No, it’s too low! The other one is much higher!” I step back a few more paces, trying to determine how level the other decorations are in comparison.

“You just said it was too high!” Phil protests, wings beating gently to keep him afloat. I’m distracted for a moment by the bright red pattern painted across the leathery membrane before I realize he’s lowering himself to the ground. “There, that’s good, right?”

I return my attention to the wreaths, which are actually pretty even now.

“Okay, yeah, those look fine,” I smile at him, and he disappears through the nearby portal - I’m told it leads to some huge storage warehouse (of course there’s one of those in this giant labyrinth). Phil emerges a moment later with what looks to be an enormous version of a Christmas tree base, and I furrow my brows in confusion.

Before their honeymoon, PJ had explained to me that this celebration was something like the human Christmas - a little less gift-giving, a little more focused on the ‘traditional’ aspects: family, festivities, and well-wishing. The newlyweds are due back at the end of the week, only two days away now, just before the party Phil’s throwing. I snort at the thought - for a guy who claimed to hate parties not but two months ago, he’s spent most of my time here searching for any excuse to gather everyone together and celebrate; I think we’ve had four events in the span of the last month, easily.

“Okay, we need the tree before we can finish decorating. I’ll go get that, maybe tomorrow?” Phil’s thinking aloud as he sets the heavy metal contraption in the center of the room - a space has been cleared, a very large one, and I try to imagine a tree that would actually fill it. Jesus, that’d be enormous. But if the rest of the decorations are any clue, I shouldn’t be surprised - the wreaths alone are larger than I am tall.

“Do you need my help with that as well?” I offer, since he’s been dragging me around for the past three days to decorate every corner of the mansion and diner. I cross over to him as he folds his wings, but they dematerialize the moment before I wrap arms around his waist. Though I’ve already seen him in full demon mode, he seems pretty unwilling to display that side of him around me unless it’s necessary.

His hands find mine across his stomach, and he twists in my loose grip until we’re face to face. Though I’m intent on watching his bright blue eyes, I can’t help but notice when a twinge of doubt crosses his features; I don’t comment. A smile quickly replaces it, followed by an annoyingly patronizing kiss. Okay, maybe I’m just assuming it’s patronizing.

“No, this is something I’ll probably need to do on my own, but thanks for offering,” he gives me a quick squeeze then shuts down the portal behind him. A gentle tug of his arm at my back prompts me into movement, and we’re both heading toward the stairwell.

“Are you sure? I don’t have to do anything, if it’s not safe or whatever,” for all the help he’s been asking of me, he keeps me far and away from the actual task at hand - like giving him directions for how to hang decorations while he hauls them into place. I can feel the way he’s babying me, as if I’m going to snap in two just from helping lift a heavy object or something.

And it’s infuriating. I get that I’m human, but Chris has been just fine here for hundreds of years, why am I any different?

“No, this will require a bit of a trip,” he smiles over his shoulder before descending the stairs in front of me, and I suppress a huff of annoyance. I’m not going to break, alright? You have no idea what I’ve been through, I’m tougher than you’re giving me credit for.

I want to say all those words, and maybe some more, but I just follow in frustrated silence.

“I’ve got some bookkeeping to take care of,” Phil begins as he stops in front of my room - though we’ve sort of been sharing his room, and he’s expanded it a bit to fit us both more comfortably, he insists I keep my own space just in case.

“That’s fine, I work in-” I pause beside him, checking my phone. “Shit, ten minutes, okay I’ll see you later!” I press a quick kiss to his cheek, and he chuckles at me before continuing down the corridor.

I quickly change into my uniform and take off down the hall. Despite working a fairly busy shift, my mind keeps flowing back to Phil and the way he’s been treating me. The moment I made the connection between his protectiveness and my being human, things keep popping up - the time he insisted I stay in my room while he investigated a potential attack on the diner (turned out to just be a drunk patron), when he refused to let me help Louise with a particularly challenging dish (there were live...creatures involved), not to mention the fact that he still never shows off his demon form in my presence.

Phil’s treating me like some breakable china doll. I set the bused plates down in the kitchen with a loud clang, rattling the metal table.

“Honey, what has got you so wound up?” Louise calls from across the kitchen, and I spin in a huff.

“It’s Phil,” I groan, and she throws her head back with a laugh. Bright white flashes in a way I wasn’t expecting, and I catch a glimpse of the long fangs hiding inside her mouth.

“Of course it is, nothing else would get you so hot and bothered,” she responds when she’s finished laughing. She waves her sous chef over - James, the cat-eyed man I had met several weeks ago - and he takes her place at the stovetop. Freed for a minute, she walks over; only once she’s stood in front of me, arms crossed against her chest and an eyebrow cocked, does she speak again.

“Alright, what’s going on? He being secretive? Done something mean? Stole your cereal?” She gasps at me, then leans in conspiratorially. “Did he do something in bed you didn’t fancy?” I was about to explain things until she said that last bit, now I’m just blushing furiously.

“No, no, nothing like that,” I mumble, suddenly incredibly uncomfortable. “I mean, he’s...no, he’s fine in bed, I just…” I bury my hands in my face, mostly to shut myself up. Why on earth would I say that? Get it together, Dan, jesus.

“Well, out with it then, hon, I ain’t got all day!” She almost shouts it, and I’m wishing I had some magical ability to curl into a ball and disappear. Or a portal, to escape. Anything to keep the curious eyes of the kitchen staff from staring at us.

“I, uh…” I pause, about to tell her - but would she understand? She’s not human, either… I go for it anyway. “He’s treating me like I’m fragile, I think. Just because I’m human!” I try to sound indignant, but it comes across as whiny, and I curl my lip in annoyance.

“Well, you are human, and you have to remember how little time we all spend among humanity. Can’t really blame him for not knowing what all you can and can’t handle,” she reasons, fixing a hard gaze on me. I sigh, rolling my eyes. Of course she’s going to be all logical about it.

“Fine, fine, but how am I supposed to show him I’m not going to break the moment something slightly bad happens? I can’t very well just throw myself into some dangerous situation and hope I survive,” I say it aloud, but I’m suddenly wondering if I can’t do exactly that. If I show him I can handle something he’s deemed unsafe for humans, maybe he’ll reconsider?

“Oh no, I know that look,” Louise pouts at me, narrowing her eyes. “Whatever it is, do not expect me to help! I want no part in putting you straight into danger, love,” she spins on a heel, returning to her station and sending James back to his work.

I spend the rest of my shift rolling that idea over in my head, formulating a plan.

--------------------------------------------

Though I went to bed alone, immediately after my shift - and fell asleep the moment my head hit the pillow - I wake in Phil’s arms. I burrow into his chest, dreading actually getting up and hoping he’ll just stay asleep a bit longer. He’s not one to spend too long in bed, no matter how much I play the needy boyfriend; there’s always work to be done, and he’s always the one who has to do it.

“Morning, sleepy-head,” Phil’s gruff sleep-affected voice is amazingly seductive, though I know he doesn’t mean it that way. I let my thoughts wander, tracing a hand across his stomach. “None of that, now, I’ve got a lot to get done today,” he’s smiling down at me, eyes flashing red as he peeks into my head, and he catches my hand at the waistband of his sweatpants. And laces his fingers through mine. And pulls us both up to the safer territory of his chest.

“Mmmm come on, you can stay in bed another five minutes,” I grumble, nuzzling into his neck and sucking at it softly.

“Come on, yourself, babe,” he jokes, freeing my hand and lifting my chin so our lips are almost touching. “Besides,” his voice - if possible - has taken on an even huskier tone. “You know it’d take a bit longer than that.” A shiver shoots up my spine, and I try to close the gap between us; of course, he pulls away and presses a kiss to my nose instead.

Which is exactly what I needed, because I’m suddenly reminded of the masterful plan I came up with last night.

“You’re right!” I rush to say, and he looks at me with a cocked brow - and blue eyes, so I can safely continue the lie. “I mean,” I calm my tone a bit, “you still have to get the tree, and I told Louise I’d help her with a few things to prepare for the feast tomorrow,” I blink a few times, hoping I’ve hidden my real motives convincingly. And hoping he won’t actually go fact-checking with Louise. He furrows his brows, now, looking concerned as his eyes drift off to a spot on the wall behind me. Shit, I hope he’s not trying to figure out what exactly I’m helping with...given I literally have no clue what’s on the menu.

“Okay,” he nods after a minute of deliberation, and I realize he must’ve been actually considering whether he’d allow me to help her. Still treating me like a fragile little human, I push down the groan of frustration and force my face into an overly-cheery smile instead.

“Go on, I’ll be heading off to my room for a bit first,” I gesture at him to shower first, needing him out of the way and distracted so I can put my plan into action.

He plants another kiss on my cheek, then disappears into the bathroom. The moment I hear the water turn on, I stop by my room and grab some necessities before taking the fastest shower of my life and quickly dressing. The hallway is, inconveniently, very long and straight - nothing to hide behind. I open my door a crack and peek down toward Phil’s room. I hope he hasn’t left yet…

But he follows my expectations perfectly, not emerging for another five minutes. I try not to stare at his ass too much as he makes his way down the corridor, then sneak out behind him and close my door softly. He doesn’t seem to have heard me, so I follow cautiously. Once out the door, he heads right - toward the diner? Or the kitchen...he’d better not be checking with Louise…I rush out after him, breathing a sigh of relief when I notice the slight swing of the door leading to the diner.

As I pass the kitchen, though, I give it a quick once-over - good, no sign of him in here. The diner door swings open toward me, and I back away, ready to hide. Fortunately, it’s just one of the waitresses, and her entrance has allowed me a convenient way to slip in without drawing more attention to myself.

The door swings wide, outward, and I slip through and behind the counter. I pretend to focus very intently on a spot in front of me, hoping Phil’s not in a position to notice my presence. I wait for a few moments, under the guise of reorganizing some napkin holders and condiments, before I feel confident enough to check the room around me.

It’s bustling, right in the middle of the breakfast shift, and it takes me a solid three scans of the room to conclude that Phil isn’t here.

“Hey,” I nudge Jemma, who’s stood behind the counter and actually working. “Have you seen Phil this morning?” I hope my tone is casual enough, not too suspicious.

“Hey Dan, morning to you too!” She chirps. Far too chipper, all the time, I don’t know how she does it. I’m even having a bit of trouble looking at her too closely, with the way the lights are reflecting off her scales. “Yep, he was here just a bit ago, did you need something?” She’s fixed concerned eyes on me, and I want to scream. Why does everyone think I’m helpless?

“No,” I grind out, teeth gritted. Then inhale slowly. She’s being polite, there’s no reason to be mean to her. Not to mention she’s still my superior. And, if what Chris told me is true, she could kill me pretty quickly. I realize I’m staring at her mouth, which I’ve been told is hiding rows of shark-like teeth under a glamour. “No, no,” I hope I sound a bit calmer, kinder. “Uh, but which way did he go?” I definitely didn’t pass him in the hall, and if he went through a portal, I’m royally screwed. Shit, that didn’t even occur to me.

“Out the front door, of course!” She grins, and I try not to wince. It isn’t fair to her, that I’m actually a little nervous - especially given there’s no sign of her teeth. She’s been nothing but immensely kind to me, so I return the smile and rush off with a quick ‘thanks’ thrown over my shoulder.

--------------------------------

It takes me all of three steps outside the front door to realize what I’m walking into. The aether. I haven’t seen it since the moment I tried to escape, right when I first arrived - the windows of the diner don’t give much view of the outside, aside from blackness. It could easily be midnight in a dark city, and that’s exactly how I’ve seen it up til now.

But now...now the blackness is overwhelming, and...well, it isn’t quite black. It’s dark, sure, but I can see swirling tendrils and fog and mysterious shapes, just far enough out of my view that I can’t get a good grasp on what they might be.

But that...that I’d recognize anywhere. Far off to my left, I spot a blob of black shot through with threads of red and orange and gold. Phil. I take another step, then turn back toward the diner. It’s a beacon of light in the terrifying darkness, and I’m sure I can find my way back if I get lost. So I take more confident steps toward Phil, allowing his wings to guide me.

----------------------------

I’ve been walking for a few minutes now, but the wings don’t seem to be getting any closer. If anything, the fog has only made them blurrier. Or perhaps I’ve been staring too hard. I can’t tell, I can barely see anything now - just the faintest hint of red a distance away. I think I’m going the right way, keeping the red in front of me, but I stop for a moment to try to piece together my surroundings.

Far off to my right, nothing but darkness. All around me, I think I can make out the spindly branches and thick trunks of some trees - though none look like the pines I imagined Phil would be searching for. After a brief check that the glowing wings haven’t disappeared, I check behind me.

My heart stops in my chest. The diner...it’s gone...At first, I can’t breathe. Then, all at once, I’m gasping and I can’t seem to exhale properly and my eyes are watering and I’m desperately searching for some kind of indication, just the faintest glow, that the diner is still back the way I came.

I stumble forward - rather, backward, toward where I thought the diner had been - but my feet get caught on some undergrowth, and I fall to the ground. When I manage to lift my head, which has begun spinning, my hazy vision searches for anything even remotely familiar. I turn back, clinging to the dirt beneath me as I collapse back on my ass in the middle of this hell-forest, hoping against all hope that the red glow of Phil’s wings will appear out of the darkness and rescue me.

Jesus christ, I am a fucking fragile human, look at me, I’m stuck in this mess and I can’t find my way back and I have no idea what to do and nobody knows I’m out here and I’m going to die and...I can’t stop the running narration in my head from pushing me further and further into a state of panic, and my dirt-covered hands lift from the ground to wrap around my knees. I can’t breathe properly, only short gasps, as I huddle into myself.

Within moments, I swear I can hear creaking around me - I don’t dare look up, but I know the trees - with their spiked and spindly branches - are reaching down for me, waiting to rip me apart. I deserve it, for thinking I could go out here by myself and survive. My breathing slows, though the pounding in my ears - must be my heartbeat - doesn’t; I squeeze my eyes shut, then collapse onto my side, still curled into a ball. The earth is dry but cool against my cheek, and I can feel the puffs of dust that hit my face each time a tear finds its way from the corner of my eye to the ground below.

I think I’m sobbing, now, but I can’t hear anything through the thunderous sound of my heart in my ears; it’s all-encompassing, and I try to focus on it instead of the coarse grip of the branches inevitably creaking their way down to grab me. Or worse, some...creature could be out here, waiting for a tasty little snack…

I bite my lip, hoping the pain will distract me, but now all I can hear is the heavy breathing of whatever terrifying being is surely approaching me now.

When something grabs my arm, I scream.

But the hand is soft, not clawed in a way that would have cut deep into my flesh, nor is it the scraping rough bark of a sentient tree trying to pull me limb from limb.

I blink my eyes open, frightened when red swims in my vision. Red, jesus, am I dead already?

But a gentle voice reaches through the pounding of my eardrums, and the tears manage to clear away from my eyes, and suddenly Phil is coming into focus; his hand is on my arm, and I can tell he’s speaking, but I shake my head and try to take a breath.

When I exhale, it’s another sob, and I squeeze my eyes shut and lean into him. His voice is clearer, now inside my head; he mutters soothing words and it relaxes me just a little. I barely notice when his arms wrap around me, lifting me easily.

It takes me longer than I’d like to admit - to be fair, though, I just had some kind of panic attack - to realize that Phil’s method of transportation is flight. My sobs have stopped, enough that they’ve just become small hiccups, and I open an eye experimentally. I’m being held like a baby - so much for that attempt to show I’m not a fragile human - and we’re soaring high above the forested darkness below us.

I open my other eye, somewhere between exhilarated and terrified, and watch the growing light of the diner in the distance. I focus on it, as if it’s a lighthouse drawing us safely into harbor; I swear I don’t blink until we’ve settled on the ground at the front door. Phil doesn’t let me down, though, pushing the door open with an extended wing and pulling us both inside.

I shut my eyes once we’re inside, partly against the sudden brightness and partly against the shocked stares directed our way.

“Dan! Are you-” Louise bursts out into the diner, and I peek an eye open sheepishly. “Daniel James Howell, what on earth have you done?” Though her wrath is terrifying, and I’ll indubitably have a lot of explaining to do later, I’m far more nervous for the talk that Phil seems intent on us having right now.

He marches right past her, heading toward the living quarters, and doesn’t stop until he’s sat me down on his bed. I keep my gaze on the floor between us, arms wrapping around myself anxiously.

“Are you okay?” Phil’s voice is tight, like he’s holding back his anger. I don’t trust my own words, so I whisper a confirmation into my head. I certainly can’t meet his gaze. Which is why I’m so shocked when he tackles me back to the bed in a hug.

“Oh my god, oh my god I was so worried! When I heard you, out there, I thought you were…” he pauses, and I finally allow myself to look in his eyes - they’re bright red, like fire, but slowly threading through with rivulets of blue as he pulls back from my mind.

“Phil, I…” I start, though my voice is hoarse. Probably all the crying and screaming. My face flushes - not only have I failed completely in my attempt to show Phil how tough I am, I’ve probably set myself back so far that he’ll never let me out of his sight again. Not that I’d complain, but....I can already see him sealing me into a protective bubble just so I won’t accidentally scrape a knee or hit my elbow on something.

“I was so worried,” his eyes are glassy, now, like he’s about to start crying, and I take a deep breath to fight off my own tears. I put myself in danger, and scared him so much...he thought I might be dead…

“I’m so sorry,” I start, but he doesn’t let me say anything else - his lips are on mine in a desperate kiss, and I kiss back just as forcefully. I could’ve died, I could’ve died out there if he hadn’t found me. When I feel wetness on my cheek, it takes me a full ten seconds to realize it isn’t my own tears, though those have started to flow as well.

“I thought I lost you,” Phil’s whispering against my lips, mostly nonsense between kisses, but those words send a pang through me, a tear in my heart. I’m such an idiot.

------------------------------

PJ and Chris have just returned, which I find out not because anyone tells me, but because of a very obnoxious knocking on Phil’s door at some ungodly hour of the morning.

I groan when Phil leaves my side, pawing at his chest, but he just gives me a quick kiss and swings the door open. To a very angry-looking Chris, and a somewhat less angry-looking PJ. Although, for PJ, even that much expression is a bit frightening. I sit bolt upright in the bed, worried something horrible has happened. Or is happening.

Phil must have the same idea.

“What’s going on?” He asks, immediately shifting into business mode. PJ looks at me through the gap in the doorway, black eyes engulfing his usual bright green, and I grimace. Peej, look, I was just...I try to explain into my head, but he’s pulled out and focused on Phil before I get the chance. I guess he knows, anyway, if he saw what happened…

Chris, however, is not nearly as stoic as PJ. He actually pushes past Phil and into the room, standing in front of me with crossed arms.

“How dare you go out there, and scare the shit out of all of us?” He’s shouting, and I drop my eyes. Here’s the verbal lashing I was expecting from Phil...Chris chastises me for another full minute before PJ steps past Phil and wraps an arm around Chris’ shoulder. His movement makes me glance up, at which point I notice the angry tears in Chris’ eyes. He was that worried as well?

A small nod from PJ confirms it, and I feel a fresh wave of shame wash through me.

“I’m so sorry, Chris, I’m a complete twat for doing that to all of you,” I drop my head into my hands, then startle when I feel a soft squeeze at my shoulder. Before I can look back up, PJ is guiding Chris from the room, and Phil closes the door gently behind them. “I really didn’t-” I start, but Phil cuts me off.

“He’s right,” I look over to the intimidating presence at the doorway, still a little surprised Chris had managed to push past him. “That was idiotic of you, to put yourself in danger like that. Hell, I told you on the first day that the aether was dangerous,” he pauses, running a hand through his hair distractedly.

“I know, and I’m sorry, I just-” Phil cuts me off again, and I cross my arms in a huff.

“Yes, yes, I know, you were trying to prove a point. I understand I know nothing about your past…” Phil trails off, but this time it’s full of something unsaid.

“And?” I prompt. “I can’t read your mind, you know,” I know it’s a bit of a low blow, given that he actively tries not to read my mind too often, but I also know it’ll work.

“And you won’t talk about it!” I’m shocked by the words, enough that I don’t move when he sits down beside me. “I promised I wouldn’t look through your memories from before, but god I feel like I barely know anything about you!” He’s incredibly flustered, but I can’t focus on his concerns.

Instead, I burst out laughing. Which earns me a very confused look from Phil - a look that only prompts another bout of laughter, and I flop back onto the bed behind me. He continues staring, though I can barely see it through my squinted eyes. By the time I manage to get myself under control and sit up, my abs are burning. Phil waits for me to speak, and I have to take a few deep breaths before I can be sure I won’t lose it again.

“You...you know nothing about my past?” I get it out, though I feel the giggles bubbling up at the back of my throat. “This, coming from the immortal being who’s been alive for, how long?” I ask, partly for effect and partly out of curiosity. No matter how old, he’s at least been around for over half a century - he’s robbing the goddamn cradle. The thought starts another fit of giggles, ones I can’t seem to stop.

Phil stares at me for a moment before his mouth starts opening and closing like a fish out of water. Which causes me to collapse back onto the bed, full-on laughter wracking my body again. Before I can question the change in pressure, I feel Phil’s arm next to mine, and he’s laughing as well. It takes us a good three minutes to get ourselves under control, at least enough to speak.

“That,” Phil grins, still laying back on the bed but turned to face me now, “is a very good point,” I smile at him, trying to process the rollercoaster of emotions from the past twenty-four hours. Hell, I think I’ve experienced every single emotion that exists since I woke up in Phil’s arms yesterday.

“How about,” he suggests, and I blink at him, “we play a game,” I squint, then, intrigued but slightly on edge. “We can exchange stories from our past. I’ll tell you something about myself, then you tell me something about you,” There are some parts of my past...some I’m not sure I can talk about.

“It’s okay, I have some like that, too,” Phil must’ve been reading my mind, and I catch a hint of red as he turns his gaze away. “But we can start small, and work our way up to those things,” he rolls so he’s staring right into my eyes, and I do the same.

“Okay,” I say it softly, as if agreeing might open some kind of floodgate to every horrible, terrible piece of my past. “But,” I amend quickly, “please, if we do get into some of...that stuff, promise you won’t read my mind unless I say you can?” I don’t want him sifting through my memories unless I really can’t manage to tell them out loud. He’ll have to tell me his difficult memories out loud, it only seems fair. And I don’t want him to find anything I’m not quite ready to talk about.

“Agreed,” his smile puts the sun to shame, and I lean forward to press our lips together.

--------------------------

Phil leads me from the table out onto the dance floor - the floor that’s in exactly the spot the tree would’ve been, had Phil actually found one instead of having to drag my ass back to the diner. A twinge of guilt flickers through me, but I quickly bury it.

The feast was unreal, absolutely delicious - Louise had truly outdone herself, and I made sure to tell her so. As we reach the center of the floor, I realize nobody else has left their tables, despite the soft music now playing in the background.

“Phil, why are we the only ones dancing?” I mumble to him as we sway. He’s grinning, though, and before I can figure out why, his wings have unfurled and he’s lifting us both into the air. I cling to his neck tightly, suddenly a worried about falling.

“I would never let you fall, you don’t have to worry,” his eyes are red shot through with blue, and it’s incredible - I almost forget we’re hovering in the air, until my sights snag on something green at the edge of the ballroom. Trees.

They’re materializing in every corner of the room, dark green pines that rival every majestic Christmas tree farm I’ve ever seen. They aren’t decorated, though, which I chalk up to the differences between our Christmas and whatever they celebrate down here. They’re beautiful, I know Phil can conjure things, but this is...

“Amazing,” I breathe the word out, meeting Phil’s gaze again, and he smiles back at me.

“I could say the same of you,” he presses a chaste kiss to my lips, though he pulls me flush against him and it sends my thoughts spinning.

Just wait til later, he whispers into my head. My cheeks heat up, turning red to match his eyes, and he lets out a soft chuckle at my reaction.

I duck into his chest, leaning against his shoulder. We’re spinning slowly, and I notice the people on the dance floor below us. At first, I worry we’re making such a spectacle of ourselves, floating in the air like this, but we turn just enough that I see Ollie pulling Wendell into the air gracefully - though Wendell looks a bit flustered at being dragged away from coordinating the event for a dance.

In minutes, others have joined us in the air - those with abilities that allow it - and the tables are almost empty as the others dance below us. I can hear Phil’s heart beating against my ear, and I sigh contentedly.

This is something I could get used to.

#fic update #demons and diners #phan #phanfic #phanfiction #dnp #dan and phil #danielhowell #dan howell #phil lester #amazingphil #demon!phil #angst

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