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giuliafc · 3 years

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When Magic Fails - chapter 2

Read on A03 || FFN || Wattpad (links to chapter 1)

Summary: The Miraculous Cure can fix the damage caused by a specific akuma. But what happens when said damage comes after the Miraculous Cure? When the damage isn't caused by an akuma? Follow Marinette through the worst day of her life. The day where her identity, or Chat's, won't matter any more. The day when she will discover what's really important. But at what price? Lovesquare story.

Warning: VERY intense! Read previous chapter here on Tumblr

Betas: KhanOfAllOrcs, Agrestebug, Etoile-Lead-Sama, Speckleflower, AmberLambda, Anonymousfriend27 and MiniNoire

Big thanks to: Momo|MarinetteAgresteBrand and Genxha

Cover art and chapter art credit: Rosehealer02 on Deviantart.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by (c) Thomas Astruc; TS1 Bouygues, Disney Channel, Zagtoon, Toei Animation. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

oOo

Chapter 2 - Code Polkadot

It was a race against time. His ring beeped when she passed the Ministère de la Santé, and her own Miraculous beeped in front of the ambassade des Pays-Bas. People watched in horror as she jumped and zipped across the road. She could see their stares, could hear their whispers. They were probably wondering what Ladybug was doing, holding Chat Noir and running madly across the road, both covered in blood, dust and rubble. She glared at anybody that came within a glaring distance.

“WHERE’S THE HOSPITAL?” she shouted at someone who had just stopped on a bike next to her. A familiar face, but her vision was so blurred by tears and sweat that she couldn’t quite make out who the person was. She shrugged off the idea. Four different hands pointed in the same direction, immediately followed by another dozen. She attempted a grateful smile, but was certain, from the frightened reactions of the people on the road, that she had barely managed to put up a painful grimace.

She jumped across in the direction shown and immediately saw her reflection glaring at her from the windows of the building in front of her. She didn’t even stop to consider what she looked like. The words on the building's windows said Hôpital Necker, but they also mentioned "University". She looked around to find the blue "H" that clearly marked a public hospital and saw it just a few metres away, at the side of a small marble arched gate, which led into a courtyard.

She landed in front of it and burst inside; her eyes scanned the courtyard until she saw at her left a door manning the sign “Accueil”. As she walked inside and looked around, she saw lines of metallic black seats. Mothers and children moved to give her space, as well as the people queuing and standing in front of the reception check in. She heard whispers around the room, mothers consoling their children who were asking what happened to Chat Noir. Why were there so many kids? All the patients had children with them; that was weird.

“I need a doctor, quickly!” she said bluntly at the woman sitting at the check in desk. To her disappointment the receptionist was on the phone, so taken with looking at the screen in front of her that she hadn’t even glanced in her direction. Marinette’s gaze quickly ran to Chat Noir’s face. The side of his head was covered in blood, which had mixed together with the dirt and the pieces of mortar in his hair and had made a sort of paste that had glued to his and even to her own suit. Her heart raced faster in her chest. She needed to hurry.

“Have you got your child’s carnet de santé and carte mutuelle, and your carte vitale please?” came from behind the green desk the voice of said receptionist, who stretched her left hand out to her, her eyes still focused on the screen in front of her, her ear still glued to the phone receiver.

Marinette gulped. Child? She looked around again. There were plenty of colourful drawings and cartoon characters embossed on the walls of the reception desk and pictures of children with many different types of illnesses.

Oh yes. Hôpital Necker, the child hospital. That’s right. She had heard of it in the news so many times, looking for donations for their research.

“He’s not my child…” she said. If the situation hadn’t been so serious she was sure Chat would have found it funny.

The middle aged brunette in front of her took her eyes off her screen, put a thick pair of glasses on and gave her a practised look of pure boredom before her brown eyes widened. “Excuse me ma’am,” she said to the person she was talking to on the phone. “I have an emergency here. You will need to redial.” She hung up and dropped the phone receiver.

“La… Ladybug? Oh Jesus… Chat Noir? What… This is a child’s hospital Ladybug… we have adult patients, but they...they’re not our speciality...” She started stammering and paled considerably.

Marinette felt a gush of anger spreading all over her gut as she admitted it, hastily, “I’m fifteen… and I expect him to be around my age. I don’t care if it’s a hospital for children, for aliens or for wild animals. He could die if we don’t act fast. He needs help. NOW.”

People all around started whispering.

“Fifteen?”

“Oh my God.”

“They are kids.”

“Only kids.”

“Maman is Chat Noir really younger than my big brother?”

“Sure.” The woman at the desk picked up the phone and pushed a couple of buttons on it. “Dr. Richter? Yes, Sylvie here at reception. We have an emergency. Oh you know already? Good… code polkadot you say? What is it, I’ve never heard of it. Ah okay... Cool. Yes, they know. They’re 15! Yes. I hear you, yes. Crazy! I’ll tell her. Leave it to me.” She stood and ran out of the accueil’s room; Marinette could only follow. “They’re already waiting for you in front of the SUSI (2).”

Marinette paled. “But I thought this was…” she muttered, but the woman interrupted her.

“Ladybug, you’re in the wrong place. This is the reception for booked appointments and routine visits. The SUSI is over there.” She pointed to the left. “You’re probably going to be faster than the bed. It’s the other side of that rooftop.”

Marinette gave her a grateful look and a nod. “Thank you… Sylvie?”

“Good luck, Ladybug,” she said smiling warmly. “You saved my boyfriend when he was akumatised. This is the least I can do.”

Marinette nodded again and held Chat firmly, jumping on the rooftop as fast as her legs could take her. She immediately saw that three men dressed in blue were waiting at the back entrance of the next building, near what looked like a gurney and an ambulance. She jumped off right beside them.

“We’ve been waiting for you, Ladybug. Nadja Chamack rang the hospital to warn us of your arrival. Please allow me to take him,” one of the nurses said, as he tried to take Chat from her arms.

She initially resisted, but then heard Chat’s ring giving a louder beep, so she gave in. “Please, we need to hurry. One minute and our transformations will fall,” she pleaded. The man’s gaze became stern. He held Chat firmly and moved steadily towards the gurney next to him. He carefully put Chat on it and quickly pushed the gurney inside the building, trying to move it hastily to the corridor leading to a door labelled ‘PU - Urgences’ (1).

A loud beep came from her earrings, and in a flash of pink, Marinette’s transformation fell as she sped next to the nurses, not even trying to hide her face from the crowd that had gathered all around her. Her gaze stayed firmly focused on Chat and on the nurses who were putting what she thought could be an oxygen mask on his mouth and nose, taking advantage of a moment when the gurney stopped because of the crowd. She didn’t even pay any attention to Tikki, who had come out of the earrings and had looked at her worryingly before flying into her purse.

“Ew, what’s that?”

“A giant bug maman!”

“Does Ladybug keep bugs in her purse?”

“WILL YOU ALL PLEASE GO FASTER? HIS SUIT HELPS HIM, BUT THIS COULD BE THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN HIS LIFE OR HIS DEATH! HE’S ONLY GOT A FEW MORE SECONDS TO SPARE!” She could swear that she saw a few flashes and tried to cover her face as best she could. Suddenly she felt someone’s arms wrap around her as a jacket was thrown over her head.

“There’s nothing else to see people, let the gurney pass!” a male voice said. She knew that voice… where had she heard that voice before?

They went through the doors of the PU and walked hastily a little longer until the gurney stopped and moved ninety degrees. The jacket was removed from her head as she heard the zipping sound of curtains being pulled all around them. A quick glance to her surroundings made her realise that they were in a sort of cubicle, protected from the view by a set of blue paper curtains, and the doctors and nurses were surrounding Chat, plugging different cables and machines all around him.

“Where do I plug the oximeter?” one of the nurses asked. She looked very young and a bit pale. She held a sort of peg in her hands, plugged into a machine and tried to attach it to one of Chat’s cat ears. “Nope. Does he have human ears?” She moved his hair at the side of his head and Marinette heard her sighing in relief as she attached the peg to something.

“What happened to him, how did he get hurt, Miss Ladybug?” she heard a doctor ask and she suddenly looked up, realising that the man was talking to her.

“Oh… he fell off the Eiffel Tower…” she started to say. Then she heard the last beep of her partner’s ring and in a flash of green his transformation fell. As Plagg twirled out of the ring and fell with a loud sob on top of Chat’s head, Marinette couldn’t stop her gaze from following the black kwami and running straight to the blond boy laying on the bed.

The plastic mask covered almost all his face, but even with that on, there was not a chance in hell that Marinette wouldn’t recognise his blond mane, now combed neatly to the side of his head and clean from the dirt, but not from the blood that plastered the side of his face. Pale; he was as pale as a ghost. She only caught a glimpse of his face before someone’s arms wrapped around her and held her tight. But that glimpse was enough.

No.

NO!

NOO! It couldn’t be...

“Gamin? Talk to me! Are you okay?” she heard Plagg say. Then, she saw something red dashing around the room, grabbing Plagg, oblivious of his objections, and disappearing behind the curtain. “Tikki, you don’t understand! I need to tell Pigtails! He’s been poi—” the little God of destruction whimpered as he was dragged away. She wasn't sure, but she thought she had seen tears at the corner of Plagg’s electric green eyes. Even her own eyes filled with tears, her chest shaken by loud sobs.

“Mar-Ladybug, it’s okay. He will be safe,” someone said, hugging her tight, but it sounded far away, like a whisper from a different time. "Marinette can you hear me? It's me, Luka," he added in a lower tone of voice. But all Marinette could hear were the sudden angry beeps of the machines in front of her, having gone mad the second Chat's transformation fell. A horde of doctors and nurses rushed to the gurney, busying themselves with plugging in more cables and hooking up strange machines to Chat's body and face.

“Sorry, Mlle. Ladybug, can you please wait over there? We need space!” Marinette heard the voice of one of the doctors say, and she felt Luka’s arms wrapping tighter around her as he tried to move her backwards.

She resisted sternly. That face. She had just given one quick glance to that face. She had to see it again, to see that it wasn’t the face she thought. She wriggled out of Luka’s hold and jerked towards the gurney, peeking around the doctors at work and trying to give another quick look, earning quite a few glares from a couple of nurses.

The neatly combed blond mane framed the handsome face of the boy she would recognise among thousands. As pale as a ghost. His once peachy lips now dry and blue under the transparent plastic mask. His beautiful green eyes closed. Why of all people did it have to be him?

She screamed.

"It's okay, Mar-Ladybug! He will be alright!" Luka's voice said again, his arms firmly wrapped around her shoulders to stop her from lunging straight to the bedside.

"ADRIEEEEN!!!" Her heart-wrenching screams came loud and clear in between the sobs that rocked her chest and lungs.

"Marinette? What… Adrien? Oh girl you must be kidding me! Mar… La-Ladybug?" This was Alya's voice. She heard Luka shushing her, and Alya’s eyes widened, as she corrected herself. What was Alya doing here?

Suddenly, a pair of extra arms wrapped around her from her left side. Another pair from the right, in a vice grip that kept her from going to him, that kept pushing her backwards.

A female voice spoke, the masked emotions trickling in through the tremble in her voice. “You can't go over there! You'll only get in the way of the doctors working on him! Stay here!”

“ADRIE—” A hand cupped over her mouth, barely able to muffle the sounds of heartbreak seeping out of her.

"Shhhhh! Do you want everyone to know, Ma-Ladybug?" It was Kagami's voice. She nearly didn’t recognise it, as the usually confident and blunt tone of the Japanese girl was missing completely. She sounded shaken and emotionally drained. Marinette darted her gaze around to notice that Alya was standing at her right and Kagami at her left, and they were both holding her tight, supporting Luka who held her from behind.

They were all there with her. She wondered when they arrived and how they knew where they were. Nadja probably had told them where she was heading, and they were allowed through the door of the PU before detransforming, Marinette thought, but the sight of Adrien being picked up carefully by one of the nurses and transferred into a hospital bed stopped the last of her rational thoughts from coming through. New sobs shook her chest, as new tears rolled off her cheeks. She buried her face in Alya's chest not even attempting to stop sobbing desperately.

Because Chat was Adrien. And Adrien could die. And it was her fault…

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Notes:

(1) PU - Pavillon des Urgences (A&E/ER)

(2) SUSI - Service d'Urgences et de Soins Intensifs (A&E/ER, Emergency and Intensive Care department)

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Author's Note:

Hi! *Keeps hiding*

I know, I know, this is probably the most catastrophic reveal ever. Please don't hate me!

I'll cut the fluff and get straight to the point. In the next instalment of "When Magic fails", “Secrets in the Open”:

— “We will need to put stitches on this cut at the side of his head.”

— “He has the right to choose how to live his own life!”

— “Chat Noir hasn’t just been injured. He’s been poisoned. And it’s not just an average poison. It’s extremely dangerous.”

I know, I'm cruel. If you want to kill m—, I mean, if you read this and you’re not part of our wonderful Discord server already, but you enjoy reading, writing and talking about Miraculous, please join our Discord server, Miraculous Fanworks (for people on FFN, discord dot gg slash mlfanworks). See you there soon, and see you soon here with the next chapters of this story. Won’t be too long. Promise!

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flowerfan2 · 3 years

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One Night in Milwaukee

David/Patrick, 4700 words, A03

A little angsty-with-a-happy-ending, h/c one-shot. Happy Friday!

Summary: Being stuck in the Milwaukee airport is bad enough. Then David realizes that the man who broke his heart is sitting right next to him.

*****

The announcement at the gate is almost impossible to understand, but David gets the gist anyway. His flight to Toronto is cancelled, and no further flights will be leaving until at least tomorrow morning.

He immediately starts searching on his phone for a nearby hotel, wishing he had bitten the bullet and done so hours ago. It’s nearly midnight and he’s exhausted, having spent the best part of six hours in the Milwaukee airport as his connecting flight got delayed again and again. He’s just about to reserve a room when a nearby airline employee is accosted by an impatient couple. David stands up and drifts close enough to listen in – at least her words are clearer than those coming over the PA system.

Apparently due to the blizzard many roads are impassable, and passengers are being encouraged not to leave the airport. Even if they make it to a hotel, the airline employee explains, they will almost certainly have trouble returning in the morning. She encourages the couple to stay at the airport overnight if getting out on a flight tomorrow morning is their goal.

David sighs, grabs his bag, and makes his way over to the long line of passengers hoping to rebook their flights for the next day. He’s reached that state of tiredness when he can’t even focus on things around him. He doesn’t even bother scrolling through his phone, he just tunes out and shuffles forward until his turn comes.

It’s not as if it even matters if he gets to Toronto tonight, or tomorrow. There’s no one waiting at home for him, no one who will care if when he gets home. It’s been more than three years since he’s had anyone like that. Three years since he lost the best thing that ever happened to him.

David’s done the best he can to keep busy, now that the initial period of paralyzing depression is in his rear view. He works out, and keeps up with current events, and stays out of bars. He lives in Toronto, someplace familiar enough to be comfortable, yet completely bare of memories of Patrick.

For the past few weeks he’s been hanging out with Alexis at her condo in Brooklyn. She had decided to throw a party for American Thanksgiving, which David thought was actually in poor taste but somehow didn’t manage to convey to Alexis until the day before. In the end they cooked a bunch of food and donated it to a homeless shelter so he figures they did okay. It had been good to spend time with his sister, but she is busy with her job and her friends and eventually David had to head back home, which brought him to this endless stopover in Milwaukee.

David tries his best to be civil as he is tentatively booked onto an 8:35 a.m. flight the next morning.

“Thanks for flying with us,” the perky gate attendant says as she hands him his new ticket. “Please make your way to the lobby. This area will be closing soon.”

David blinks at her, confused. “Excuse me?”

“Please make your way to the lobby, sir. Passengers can’t remain by the gates overnight.”

David shakes his head and steps away as the next impatient customer pushes forward, and the woman’s instruction soon becomes clear. Everyone at the gates is being herded away, back out past security and to the much smaller lobby area. So not only does he have to spend the night in the Milwaukee airport, he’s got to fight for a chair again. Fantastic.

Miraculously David manages to find an empty spot at the end of a row, near a chilly expanse of glass with a view of the storm outside. He flops down with his bag next to him and stares for a while, not able to see much except swirling flakes illuminated by the flood lights on the tarmac.

After a while David drapes his leather jacket over his head to block out the evil florescent overheads and leans back, trying to doze off. He knows it’s going to be next to impossible to sleep like this, but he’s got nothing better to do. He vaguely notices someone approaching him, looking for a place to sit, and he tugs his bag off the empty seat next to him so the man can sit down. David may not be a nice person, but he’s not a complete asshole.

A nice person. Once upon a time, there was someone nice who cared about David, and who David cared about more than he ever thought possible. It was like something out of a fairy tale, right up until the end. David’s still not sure what happened, but the outcome was clear enough – Patrick was tired of him, and so that was that. No fiancé, no wedding, no happy ending in Schitt’s Creek. Rosebud Motel Group bought out Patrick’s share of Rose Apothecary, and David moved the store closer to Toronto, where it slowly became just a source for toiletries for the motel chain. Eventually the physical location closed, and David’s role dwindled to almost nothing.

It’s been more than three years, but his heart still aches when he thinks about Patrick. He can still hear his voice in his head, giving him shit or whispering sweet nothings in his ear.

Bizarrely, it’s at that very moment when he hears Patrick’s voice again, and it’s most decidedly not in his head.

“Thanks, that would be great.”

David sits up, his jacket sliding on to his lap, and his jaw drops. Sitting right next to him, taking an orange polyester blanket from an airline employee, is Patrick. He’s got a hoodie pulled up on his head over a ball cap, but it’s obviously him.

“Oh my god,” David breathes out, feeling his stomach fall. This can’t be happening.

“David?” Patrick turns to him. “Oh. Wow. What are the odds?”

“What – what are you doing here?”

Patrick is in the Milwaukee airport, backpack on the floor by his legs. It’s no mystery what he’s doing here. But David’s brain refuses to process this.

“My flight was cancelled.” Patrick fidgets with his hat, not really looking at David.

“But why are you sitting here?”

Again, not a mystery. The whole lobby is packed. David needs to get a grip and stop asking stupid questions. But he’ll need to work himself up to something more on point. He still can’t get over the fact that Patrick Brewer is sitting next to him.

“Um, right. I’m sorry.” Patrick leans forward to grab his bag. “I’ll, um, go somewhere else.”

Patrick stands up, and a nearby man spots him, vulture-like and poised to take his chair if he moves away. There’s not another free seat in sight.

“No,” David chokes out. “No, stay. It’s all right.”

“Yeah?” Patrick glances quickly at David and then away again, his shoulders practically up by his ears. “Okay. Thanks.”

David focuses on his breathing and presses his face into his hands, hoping Patrick doesn’t notice how close he is to freaking out. It’s unlikely, but you never know. If he does notice, at least he probably won’t call him out on it.

“I’m sorry, David. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Or maybe he will.

“I’m fine.”

“I really can leave, there’s a spot against the wall over there-”

“Patrick, for fuck’s sake, it’s fine. I’m fine.”

“Can I get you something? I’ve got some water…”

Unbelievable. “I’m sorry, you can sit here, but if you think there’s anything you can do to make this better, you’re out of your mind.” David can hear how shrill he is, but he can’t help it.

“Whatever. It’s not as if I ever knew how to fix us in the first place.”

“It’s not like you tried.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Patrick says, nearly shouting.

“Um, excuse me, but some people are trying to sleep, man,” a kid in a beanie sitting across the aisle from them interjects. “You should try it.”

“Eat dirt,” David hisses, and Patrick, that bastard, laughs.

“What?”

“You’re a riot, David. Sue me.”

David huffs and twists his body away. He’s not sure how to do this, have an ordinary conversation with Patrick in an airport. All the anger and hurt he thought he had handled is suddenly back, as painful as ever.

A few minutes later there’s a crinkling sound. “Want some?”

Patrick is holding a piece of red licorice in front of his face.

David blinks, disbelieving. Patrick wiggles the licorice. “Fine.” David accepts it and takes a bite, hoping he’s chewing in a sufficiently dignified way.

“Did you have a nice visit with Alexis?”

David frowns. “How do you know I was visiting Alexis?” Alexis had closed ranks against Patrick when it all went down. David had thought it appropriate at the time, but something in Patrick’s voice tweaks a pang of regret.

“You smell like her.”

“Ew, what?”

“Her perfume.” Patrick shrugs. “I recognize it. Or maybe you’re dating someone who wears it, I don’t know.”

“I’m not.” As if. “Guess I spent too long on Alexis’ couch.” He brushes at the leather jacket on his lap, as if little bits of Alexis would be clinging to it.

“How is she?”

Again, that pang. “Good. She’s good. She’s happy in New York. She’s got friends – real friends. Not that she didn’t before, you know, back in-” David can hardly say it, but Patrick nods. “But now she’s got real friends in New York, so.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Patrick says.

“What about you? How long have you been away? Work or pleasure?”

Something comes over Patrick’s face that David can’t describe. “Well, it definitely wasn’t pleasure.”

The conversation comes to an expectedly awkward end, both of them falling silent. There’s a group of people behind them who keep arguing over whether they should rent a car and drive to what seems to be a college reunion of some sort. David wishes they’d just go already.

“Want some more?” Patrick offers up another piece of licorice, and suddenly making nice isn’t working for David anymore.

“You can’t fix this with candy, Patrick. Bribes don’t make up for cheating.”

David can feel Patrick bristling next to him. “I didn’t cheat, David,” he hisses. “I told you, you just wouldn’t listen. If you want to keep believing it that’s on you, but I absolutely did not cheat. I would never do that to you.”

“You wanted to.”

“I did not!”

“Shhhh,” the woman on the other side of Patrick entreats. “We don’t care.”

David angrily bites off another piece of licorice. “You told me Mark was just a guy you met at the community center, and then all of a sudden he’s in the store when I’m not there.”

“We needed someone else to work on busy days when you had vendor visits – we agreed on that. I was training him!”

“You never told me. And when I came in-”

“He was just helping me put some boxes away.”

“I can’t believe we’re having this discussion again,” David says, tears welling in his eyes. He remembers the moment like it was yesterday, coming into the back room and finding Patrick with a tall, slim, dark-haired stranger, the man reaching up around Patrick, pressing him into the shelves.

“What do you mean again? We never had it in the first place. You came in, screamed at me, and left. You never let me explain.”

“What kind of explanation would you have given me? What could you possibly say? You’d been out every night that week with lame excuses, you kept finding reasons to avoid me, and then I find you with someone else.”

“David…” Patrick takes in a long, deep breath, and lets it out again. “David. I was out so much because I was planning your birthday party.”

David stares at him. “That’s impossible. Stevie would have told me. Or Alexis.”

“I didn’t tell Stevie, or anyone in Schitt’s Creek. I didn’t want them to give it away. Mark was actually helping me. His family has an orchard out near Elm Valley, with an outdoor pavilion that was really pretty nice. I was thinking about having it there so I drove over to see it after work. Unfortunately, the first time I went, it started raining, so I went back the next night. Mark said there was a spectacular sunset view, but I wanted to see it for myself.”

“That’s… that’s only two nights. What about the others?”

“It was only two nights, David. Maybe my excuses weren’t that great, but it was only two nights. The rest of them we spent together just like always.”

David lets himself really look at Patrick, who is looking right back at him. He seems, possibly, just as hurt and miserable as David feels. Maybe more.

“It seemed like more than two,” David says pathetically. “Why, um, why didn’t you tell me that sooner?”

“You blocked my number.”

It’s true. Not his most mature moment. “Oh.”

“I would have thought,” Patrick starts, and then shakes his head and presses his fingers to his mouth.

“What?”

“No, forget it. It’s history now, right?” Patrick tugs his ball cap down, shading his eyes.

“What were you going to say?”

Patrick wrings his hands together, then glances up at David and then back at his hands. “Just that, you know, in the context of everything we meant to each other, given that we were in love, and engaged, that you might have cut me a break and listened to me instead of jumping to such a ridiculous conclusion.”

“Ridiculous?” David scoffs, trying not to let Patrick’s all too valid words sink in. “Hardly. It’s no different than how every relationship I’ve been in has ended. I’m always left behind. Too much. I’m surprised we lasted as long as we did.”

“David.” Patrick grabs his hands, and David stiffens. “You were never too much for me. I’m not everyone else. And I didn’t leave you behind. You left me.”

David feels a rush of shame, and Patrick just squeezes his hands tighter. It’s not as if he’s never wondered if he hadn’t screwed up, leaving the way he did. He knows he probably did. It’s just that it’s striking him now how very likely it is that his misery has been almost entirely of his own making.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you don’t deserve to believe that I would do that to you.”

David tugs his hands out of Patrick’s. “Well, I’m sure you’re better off now anyway.”

“Not even a little.” Patrick’s voice is soft and sad, and David can’t help meeting his eyes. What he sees is devastating. “Sure, I dated for a while, once I was able to get out of bed, but I gave it up after a few disasters. You spoiled me for anyone else.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Maybe it’s just that my heart was so thoroughly broken, no ordinary guy had a chance.” The silence stretches, and then Patrick says, his voice thready, “How about you?”

There’s a catch in his voice, but something in his tone makes David’s heart skip a beat. It’s an opening he never expected.

“I never met anyone else either. Didn’t even try.” David clears his throat and looks up, catching Patrick’s gaze. For all the fear he’s shown in the past, for all that his insecurities ruined them, David feels like he owes Patrick a moment of bravery. “There was no point, not when I’m still in love with you.”

Patrick stares at him, eyes wide, and then abruptly stands up. “Save my seat,” he says, and strides away, hands clenched in fists at his sides.

“Well, maybe now I get can some sleep,” the rude kid with the beanie grumbles, and David barely restrains himself from throwing something at him.

“We’re having a moment, here,” David says.

“Might go better if you fucking apologized,” the kid replies, pulling his orange airline blanket up over his head.

“He’s got a point.” The woman on the other side of Patrick’s seat gives David a pointed look that would put Ronnie Lee to shame. “Sounds like you really messed up.”

“Who are you, anyway?” David snaps.

“Audrey. Nice to meet you, David,” the woman sasses back, tossing her short black hair.

“Oh my god.” David stands up, arms wrapped tight around his body, and scans the lobby for Patrick. ��He probably just went to the bathroom. I’m sure he’ll be back soon.”

“I hope for your sake you’re right,” Audrey replies. “But if you want to go look for him, I’ll keep an eye on your stuff. There’s no way I’m falling asleep in this place. Too noisy.”

David looks her up and down, and then decides he doesn’t care whether she steals his bag. There’s more at stake here than an aging laptop. “Thanks.”

He weaves his way through the seating area, stepping around families sleeping on the floor and people stretched out in every available space. He shudders to think about putting his face anywhere near the carpet and the plethora of germs that must live there. He’ll never be that tired.

There’s a food court around the corner, all the restaurants closed with metal gates drawn down. It’s darker here, and quiet. The scattered tables and chairs are mostly empty, the metal furniture not particularly conducive to sleeping.

Patrick’s standing in front of the Cinnabon.

“They open at 5,” he says, not looking at David. “Only four hours to go.”

“Good to know.” David moves closer, trying to see Patrick’s face, but between the dim lighting and the way Patrick keeps ducking his head, he can’t see much.

“Look, Patrick. I, um, I know it’s probably too late, but.” David leans his head back and blinks up at the ceiling. “I’m sorry. Truly sorry. I should have trusted you.”

Patrick shrugs. “Yeah. You should have.”

David sucks on his lip, not sure where to go from here. “Maybe we could talk about it?” This sounds like torture, but he doesn’t see too many other options, and they’re already in hell.

Patrick nods, and David tries to tell himself that this is a good sign. He spots a nearby open table and reaches to pull Patrick towards it, but he has barely grasped Patrick’s arm when he flinches and pulls away.

“Patrick?” David moves closer. Patrick’s eyes are squeezed together in pain.

“Patrick, wait, are you hurt? What’s wrong?” David’s hands flutter towards Patrick’s shoulders, afraid to cause further distress.

“No, sorry, I’m fine, it’s nothing,” Patrick turns away, but now David sees how stiffy he’s holding himself, how the puffiness in his face probably isn’t just due to airport overheating. All of David’s anger and hurt flow out of him, replaced by an urgent concern. Something isn’t right.

“Patrick,” David says, as calmly as he can. “Come sit down with me?”

Patrick glances at him and nods, and lets David lead them over to a table.

They sit next to each other, Patrick’s whole body radiating discomfort. David forces himself to wait, to breathe. To give Patrick a moment. “Sweetheart,” he says finally, the endearment purposeful and honest, “what happened?”

Patrick takes in a long breath and lets it out. “I was attacked.” He’s speaking softly but steadily, his gaze fixed straight ahead. “Three nights ago, coming out of a bar with my cousin Jamie. He’s only nineteen-” Patrick’s voice breaks and he sucks in air, then goes on. “He wasn’t hurt, thank god. He got away. But I-” Patrick huffs a bitter laugh. “I got a little banged up.”

Patrick turns towards David, sliding his hoodie off of his head and removing his hat. There’s a dark purple bruise on his temple, and a bandage running from the top right corner of his forehead back to his ear.

“Oh my god, Patrick,” David reaches for him, then stops himself. “Where – where else, I don’t want to hurt you-”

“Couple of broken ribs, bruises,” Patrick indicates his right side and upper arm. “Eight stitches my on head.”

“Come here, come here,” David can’t help himself, he walks his fingers onto Patrick’s shoulders and eases him in. Patrick sags into the embrace, his face nestling into that space against David’s neck that used to belong only to him. “I’m so sorry, Patrick, I’m so sorry.” David holds him gently, rubbing his back with careful strokes. He feels like his heart is going to burst. Patrick sniffles into David’s neck, trying not to cry, and David circles his arms around him. “I’ve got you,” David soothes. “You’re okay.”

David doesn’t ever want to let Patrick go, but after a minute or so Patrick starts to pull back, and David has no choice. He lets his fingers skim down Patrick’s arms as he straightens up.

“Thank you, David,” Patrick says into the awkward silence.

“Yeah, well. After screwing everything else up, seems like the least I can do.” David looks around and stands up, rubbing his hands on his thighs. “Shall we go back and make sure Audrey hasn’t stolen our bags?”

“Who’s Audrey?”

David can’t help but stay near Patrick as they make their way to their seats, his hand on the small of his back. Patrick lets him, leaning into his side, a hundred and eighty degree reversal from where they were an hour ago.

He can’t imagine what Patrick is feeling. Despite all the crap David has gone through in his life, he’s never been the victim of a what he assumes was a hate crime. And the fact that Patrick is traveling by himself… where was he when he got assaulted? Who was there for him?

You should have been there, David’s guilty mind supplies. If David hadn’t ruined their lives with his self-doubt, he would have been there for Patrick. For better or for worse. Of course, if they were still together, nothing like this would have happened to Patrick in the first place, because they would have been safe in Schitt’s Creek where they belonged.

They arrange themselves in their miraculously still empty seats, David pulling the orange blanket up over them both. He holds out his arm and Patrick leans into him, resting his head on his shoulder. Patrick’s seated to his right, so it’s his uninjured left side up against David.

The feel of Patrick’s body against his is so familiar and yet it’s been so long, it makes David want to cry. Instead he gently curls himself protectively around Patrick’s body and closes his eyes.

Patrick turns into him, his arm going around David’s waist and his face pressing against his neck. “Missed you,” he whispers into David’s skin.

“You too,” David sighs into Patrick’s hair. “So much, Patrick. So much.”

David dozes for a while and eventually falls asleep, waking only when the PA system starts making incomprehensible flight announcements. Patrick is already awake, leaning forward and digging around in his backpack.

David blinks blearily at him as he remembers the events of the night before. It seems like a dream, but Patrick is right there in front of him, solid and real. He glances up at the clock on the wall. Five-fifteen. “Wanna get a Cinnabon?” he asks, his voice scratchy. It’s not the best line he could have come up with, but he figures Patrick must be hungry too.

“No, sorry, they said my flight’s here. I have to go to the gate.”

David suddenly feels faint. “What – no – that’s impossible. The first flight to Toronto isn’t until eight something, they put me on the earliest one, that’s what they told me at the desk-”

“David.” Patrick’s eyes are heavy and sad. “I’m not going to Toronto.”

“But you said-” He didn’t say, David realizes. He just assumed they were both on their way back home.

“It happened in Toronto,” Patrick says, not needing to identify what “it” he’s referring to as he tugs the hood of his sweatshirt over his ball cap. “I decided I needed to get away for a while. Put some distance between me and all that.”

David’s heart is pounding hard in his chest. It’s a wonder Patrick can’t hear it. “Where are you going?”

“Florida. My parents bought a little house there, they use it in the winter but not until after Christmas, so it’s empty now.” Patrick sighs and hoists his backpack up, wincing. “It’s been really good to see you, David.”

Patrick gives David a sad little smile, and starts walking away.

There’s a moment when David actually imagines letting Patrick go, and he wants to slap himself silly.

“Patrick, wait.” He scrambles to grab his bag and jogs after him. “Let me come with you.”

Patrick looks puzzled as they join the line of bleary-eyed people waiting to take off their shoes and slide their belongings through the scanner. “Okay, but once you go through you won’t be able to get to the food court.”

“No, Patrick – I mean to Florida.”

“You hate Florida,” Patrick replies automatically.

“That is entirely besides the point.”

“You can’t come with me. You have a life, David.”

“Patrick, I don’t. Not one I want. Not without you.”

This gets Patrick’s attention, and he steps out of the line. “What are you talking about?

David moves towards him, his whole body trembling. “I am so, so sorry I messed things up between us. I know how badly I hurt you. I have changed, though, I’ve been in therapy for real, and I’ll do whatever it takes…” He sucks in a breath and races on before Patrick can interrupt. “I will regret it forever, what I did to you, and it’s probably unforgivable. But if – if you think it’s not, if you think maybe you could give me another chance, please, let me come with you.”

“David…”

“I won’t give up on us again. And I don’t… I don’t want to say goodbye. Not yet.” David can feel his throat tightening up. “Not if there’s any possibility… Let’s try. On whatever terms you want, for however long. Please.”

“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” But Patrick’s eyes are saying what his words aren’t, and David holds his gaze, hope building in his chest.

“I think it’s the only decent idea I’ve had in years.” David reaches out and twines his index finger around Patrick’s, a single point of contact holding them together. “I bet we can find someplace to go hiking in Florida. With lots of bugs, and, um, maybe alligators?”

Patrick’s eyes flicker down to their hands, and back up to David. “You’d face alligators for me?”

“Yes.”

“And bugs too?”

David feels his heart leap, and he struggles not to smile. “Yes. I will face a reasonable number of bugs for you.” He takes a deep breath. “It doesn’t have to mean we’re together, you don’t have to commit to anything-”

“What if I want to?”

David pulls Patrick’s hand up and presses it tight against his chest. “Then I’m not going to argue with you,” David says breathlessly.

“That would be a first,” Patrick says, and David chokes out a laugh.

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

They crash together lips first, David’s arms going around Patrick’s shoulders and Patrick’s hands grabbing at David’s hips. David can’t get enough, and apparently neither can Patrick, mouths open and tongues tasting in a mad rush. It’s sloppy and ridiculous and David is going to remember it for the rest of his life. When they finally come up for air, they realize that everyone in the security line is cheering and clapping, and David rests his forehead against Patrick’s.

“They’re taking video, aren’t they,” David says.

“Hashtag ‘one night in Milwaukee,’” Audrey hoots at them as she takes off her boots and sets them in a plastic bin. “Glad you got your head out of your ass, David.”

“Me too,” says Patrick, herding David back towards the screening line. “Just promise me one thing.”

David searches Patrick’s face, but he’s smiling, and he can’t help a matching smile from stretching his own cheeks. “Anything.”

“Pretty sure our flight’s going to be packed. I get the window seat.”

#David x Patrick #Schitt's Creek #Schitt's Creek fic #Hurt/Comfort #David Rose #Patrick Brewer

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ericsonclan · 4 years

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Rainy Day at the Diner

Summary: Ericson's Diner experiences a rainy day where all of the staff gets stormed in and has an impromptu sleepover.

Read on A03:

It was raining hard that morning at Ericson’s Diner.

Louis ran inside out of the rain, a sopping wet newspaper doing little to protect him. “It’s raining!”

“A brilliant discovery as always, Louis,” Prisha noted dryly from the bar.

“Morning, Lou,” Clementine said, coming over and patting his damp dreadlocks. “You don’t own an umbrella?”

“I do, but I lent it to Violet once and she never gave it back. It looks like you had one though,”

Clem nodded. “Yep. Prisha and I were talking a while back and she mentioned that she always kept a spare umbrella in her trunk in case she ever got caught out in the rain. I took her advice and did the same. The spare’s still in my trunk if you want it,”

“Aaw, babe, that’s sweet to offer,” Louis said, giving her a quick peck on the cheek. “You’re always looking out for me. I think I’ll be good though. Not planning to go out anymore with it pouring like that. Think I’ll text whoever hasn’t come in yet and tell them not to bother. You’d have to be crazy to keep on driving in weather like this,”

As soon as the words had finished leaving his mouth, the front door to Ericson slammed open. Violet strode in, clothed in a poncho she’d clearly constructed from trash bags. “made it for my shift,”

“Vi, are you alright?” Prisha exclaimed, rushing forward to check on her girlfriend. “What in God’s name are you wearing?”

“Made it myself,” Violet said with a small smile, doing a 360 to show off the full ensemble.

“What happened to the umbrella I lent you?” Louis asked, his nose scrunching in apprehension.

Violet shrugged. “Lost it,”

Louis rolled his eyes. “Once this storm has blown over, you and I are going umbrella shopping. And we’re each buying like ten extras,”

“Nah. I think my trash poncho works just fine,” Violet strode over to the bar, hopping up onto one of the stools. She immediately slid off the seat and plopped onto the floor. “Actually, maybe you’re right,”

The kitchen doors opened and Ruby walked out, Omar close behind her. “Goodness me, it’s ragin’ out there! Marlon just dropped by with a shipment. We told him to come wait inside for the rain to calm down before trying to drive anywhere else,”

“Mitch is here too,” Prisha added. “He came in early to fix that light that blew out in the staff room. Brody’s in there helping him,”

“So the people we have here…” Louis said, counting on his fingers, “Are me, Clem, Vi, Prisha, Ruby, Omar, Marlon, Mitch and Brody?”

“Oh, Aasim’s here too,” Ruby answered. “He dropped by to see me, but ended up staying when the weather got so bad,”

“Alright, here’s what we’re going to do,” Louis said to the group. “I’ll text everyone who’s not here yet and tell them to take the day off. We change the sign in the window to closed and then…” he patted against the nearby wall for a drumroll. “We throw the best slumber party ever! Who’s in?”

Suddenly, a large branch came flying against one of the nearby windows, smacking against it loudly as thunder boomed. They all jumped in fright.

“Tiny change of plans,” Louis said, raising a finger. “First we storm proof the restaurant, then we throw the best slumber party ever!”

They all set out to their given tasks. Mitch came out to the front and directed everyone in how to reinforce the windows and doors to make sure nothing broke and no water got inside. Ruby and Omar made food for everybody. Clementine got ahold of her father and confirmed that A.J. was safe. He would be having a sleepover of his own with Willy and Tenn as their school had gone on lockdown due to the storm conditions.

Once everything was safe and secured, they sat down at the booths and tables in the dining area, playing games and eating snacks. Louis had his trusty pack of cards on him, and the staff room was also stocked with several board games they’d accumulated from staff donations and thrifting adventures. Violet broke out her blanket stash that she kept at the restaurant for “emergencies”. It turned out the diner made a pretty cozy haven away from all the worries and cares of the stormy world outside.

There were a few phone calls that came through on the main line. It was mind-blowing that there were people out there who thought that since they couldn’t make it out to get food, delivery options were still open to them. When Louis’ explanations that no, they didn’t deliver in the first place, and certainly not in these conditions fell on deaf ears, Violet was more than happy to chew out the delusional callers before wishing them a less than pleasant day. Eventually the phone stopped ringing as the phone lines had gone down, a fact that normally would have been distressing, but the blissful quiet was enjoyed by all.

By noon the rain was still pouring. The forecasts had said to expect rain into the night, so this was no surprise. Ruby and Omar decided that personalized pizzas were the way to go for lunch. Everyone was able to make theirs just as they liked and mercilessly tease each others’ topping choices. Once everyone’s pizzas were ready, they settled down to watch a movie on Louis’ old laptop that he kept in the manager’s office. After much heated debate, they settled on Toy Story, a perennial classic in everyone’s eyes. They all snuggled up together with their blankets and bags of rice, potatoes and other produce for pillows, commenting throughout the movie on what their favorite parts had been growing up and applauding every time Woody, Buzz or the rest of the toy crew had a victory.

They decided to continue the trend of comfort food into the evening, working together to make an enormous pot of mac’n’cheese. The power cut out shortly afterwards, so there were several minutes of scrambling around in the dark looking for alternate light sources. Using the flashlights on their phones, they made their way over to the bar where Prisha had a supply of candles that they occasionally used on holidays like Valentine’s Day and during Christmas to brighten things up. Candles were placed at every table and booth and all along the bar, casting the restaurant in a warm, dreamy glow. They ate their mac’n’cheese at the bar, enjoying a few rounds of drinks as they played a lively round of truth or dare. Laughter filled the restaurant as the evening winded down.

When it was time to sleep, there was a short debate on how they should do things. At first it was suggested by Aasim that for propriety’s sake they should probably stick to men and women sleeping separately.

“Screw propriety,” Violet muttered. “Who are we trying to impress? I say we all do whatever we want,”

Louis wrapped his arms around Clementine from behind, his face nuzzled against her ear. “I wouldn’t mind snuggling up with Clem tonight,”

Clementine giggled. “Funny, I was about to make a similar suggestion,”

“Then we pair off,” Prisha said matter-of-factly. “The only problem with that is it leaves Brody alone with Omar, Mitch and Marlon,”

“Actually…” Brody jumped in, “Mitch and I have sorta been seeing each other for the past few months. We didn’t want to say anything till we were really sure it was official, but.. yeah,”

Mitch looked surprised for a second before a large grin spread across his face. “Fuck yeah! Making it official!” He and Brody high fived before Mitch wrapped his arm protectively around her waist. The group applauded them happily, congratulations being given all around.

Louis looked to Omar and Marlon. “Guess that makes you two cuddle buddies!”

“Sounds fine with me,” Marlon answered, warmly placing a hand on Omar’s shoulder. Omar returned the gesture, nodding placidly.

Thus the sleeping arrangements were set. They pushed the center tables back, clearing an area large enough for all of them. Candles were blown out and people used their phones for light as they settled down to sleep. Louis offered his arm to Clementine as a cushion in place of the rice sack. Prisha and Violet curled up in each other’s arms, forming a snug cocoon. Ruby and Aasim each had their own sack of flour to rest their heads on as they lay side by side. Brody and Mitch had moved a bit father from the group, a table standing between them and the others. Occasionally giggles would erupt from the two that everyone hoped was just early relationship jitters. Marlon and Omar settled down with their backs touching, quickly falling asleep. There were whispers amongst some of the pairs as they wound down from the events of the day. Eventually they all drifted off into peaceful slumber, content in the warmth of each other and the pleasant atmosphere of the diner. It had truly been a perfect sleepover, a wonderful way to be stuck inside on this very rainy day.

Series this work belongs to:

#twdg #fanfic #clouis #twdg moody #twdg bitch #twdg privet #twdg prisha #twdg violet #twdg louis #twdg clementine #louistine

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tisfan · 7 years

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Holiday Spending

All I Buy For Christmas - Renting in the New Year - Will you Steal My Valentine - Up for (Mardi) Grabs - Hopping Down the Money Trail - (In) Memorial Day Sale - (Folding) Paper Anniversary - (Financial) Independence Day - Back to School (Fundraiser) - Fruit of our Labors

A/N: Contains unbelievable amounts of sap. Sorry.

Chapter 12: (Giving) Thanks

“Yaaaaaaasha!” Nat was yelling as she pounded up the stairs and into the little flat. For someone who was a dancer and supposedly graceful, Nat often sounded like a herd of very small brontosauruses. “Yaaaaaaasha!”

She stopped dead two steps into the living room, scowling. “You’re not Yasha.”

Tony laughed, cynical. “How observant of you, dear sister.”

“You’re not my brother-in-law yet,” Nat said, hands on her hips. “Where’s Yasha?”

Tony flipped the channel on the television. Oh, look, something with a gun fight. Flip. Something with a man forcing a woman into a kiss to shut her up. Flip. More gun fighting. Flip. Tony sighed. It’d be nice to watch some television some time without feeling like he was being personally attacked in high definition. Oh, cooking show. That might be okay.

“He went out to get some take-away,” Tony said.

And Tony was doing his best not to panic about everything. It’d been a bad day for both of them, starting out with a stupid argument about whose turn it was to do the dishes (for the record, it was Bucky’s turn and Tony was feeling both petty and guilty about feeling petty) and then they’d attempted to have some make-up sex that had gone terribly wrong when they discovered someone (Tony that time) had left half a bottle of juice on the bed and it spilled, soaking the comforter and sheets with orange juice. They’d had to put sexy times on hold to wash the linens, and by the time they were done with that, neither of them were in the mood to do more than try to be decent human beings another day.

Logically, Tony knew that Bucky wasn’t going to leave him over stupid fights. Logically, he knew the people on the television weren’t going to shoot him, either. Didn’t help with the stupid brain.

And the more stupid things happened, the snappier and uglier and prone to picking a fight Tony got until Bucky had grabbed his smokes and headed out to get dinner, rather than dealing with Tony and his attitude any longer. Tony wasn’t going to admit that his first reaction to that was “and stay out.”

“Hmph,” Nat said, flouncing into the kitchen. She pulled the vodka bottle out from under the sink. “I hope he brings enough for me. We have a celebration, tonight.”

“Do we?”

“Yes, mister pouty-pout face,” Nat said. She poured two shots and handed him one. “Drink with me.”

(more below the cut, or read the whole thing at A03)

“What are we celebrating?” A little good news might help get Tony and Bucky out of their funk.

“Wait,” Nat said. She knocked back the shot and licked the droplets from the side of her glass. “I will not tell you first. Yasha would be cross with me.”

“We could form a team,” Tony said, a touch bitter. He drank down the vodka she poured for him. “People that your brother is pissed with.”

Nat gave him a sharp look, refilled the shot glasses. “You are arguing?”

Tony shrugged. “It’s not even important, you know. Just…”

“The pain of a dozen blisters,” Nat said.

God, Tony hoped not; he’d seen Nat’s feet after some of her bad rehearsals, nights where the director made them do it again, and again, and again and she would drag herself home, feet bleeding and heels red and raw.

“I’m not that bad,” Tony protested.

“You are not,” Nat agreed. She poured them more shots.

“Just feel… shitty,” Tony admitted. “That I’m pissed at him about stupid shit.”

“Make a gratitude list,” Nat said. “My therapist tells me to do this every day, but that is ridiculous. If I must make a list every night, it becomes work, and I am not grateful for the things I have and love, I resent making the damn list. But sometimes, especially when I am feeling out of sorts, I sit down and make the list.”

“Coffee,” Tony said. That was easy.

“No, no,” Nat said. “We will make a written list.”

“You expect me to write after you dumped four shots of vodka into me?”

Nat’s look was so flat it could have served as a level. “Yes.”

Nat fetched notepads and ridiculously colored gel pens -- Tony’s was brilliant emerald green, hers was eggplant purple -- and an old-fashioned hour glass, the kind that actually had sand in it. Tony hadn’t seen anything like it in… well, maybe even ever, except on television and Nat actually slapped his hand when he tried to inspect it.

“Make your list.”

Nat’s ridiculousness Coffee Waking up before the alarm goes off and being able to go back to sleep Bucky loves me

A small wince there, because Tony hadn’t exactly been loveable recently, but he supposed that was what unconditionally meant. I still love him, even when I’m mad.

loving Bucky Believing both of those things are true The money

Another flinch, because he also felt guilty about the Stark fortune; he hadn’t done anything to earn it except being born to the right parents. And having those same parents die unexpectedly. Because of the fucking money. He resented it even as he was grateful for the comfort it provided, for the fact that he didn’t have to worry. That he could pay Bucky’s hospital bills. All the things that the money could purchase, without consideration for all the things the money was. He made a mental note to get with his accountants and look at the current charity donations. Surely there were things he could do to even the score a little bit.

The ability to make other people’s lives easier

People, yes, he had some people in his life that he was grateful for. Rhodey Pepper Jan Bruce

Tony made a note to call them all and get together for a lunch or dinner or something. He’d been neglecting his friendships. He wasn’t quite sure why, maybe something to do with Jan’s party and not wanting to look at his friends and remember that they’d seen him in the aftermath and fucking resenting that they’d seen him that way. You won’t get past it unless you deal with it.

He was grateful for his mom, much as he missed her.

Mom teaching me to play piano. The times she took me to the ballet.

Maria had loved the ballet; she was thrilled when she found out that Bucky’s sister was a dancer. They’d gone to the Nutcracker every year until Tony went off to college, and even then, she’d asked him every year if he wanted to go. He nursed a small regret that he’d said no last year, too eager to avoid questions about his lack of significant other. On the other hand, that had lead him to grabbing Bucky’s advertisement.

Bucky’s ridiculousness Bucky’s patience Bucky’s terrible bedhead

That had given him a bright spurt, first thing in the morning, on so many days. Bucky’s hair was shoulder length, thick and silky-soft, prone to curling up if it was humid or drizzly, and after sleeping on it, the whole thing had a mind and life of its own. Tony was almost convinced that Bucky’s hair was what lead to tales of the medusa with her crown of snakes.

Bubblewrap

Tony was prone to abusing his Amazon Now account and the last batch of stuff he needed without bothering to get the fuck off the sofa had come wrapped in yards of it. Tony’d put the widget aside without even playing with it, just so he could snap a few dozen air pockets.

Doughnuts. Grapes. Peppermint frappuccinos. Good beer. Bad vodka. Really terrible marshmallow flavored vodka. Cold pizza for breakfast. Bucky’s tomato soup out of a mug when I’m not feeling well.

Cheese.

Cheese whiz.

Stop judging me from across the living room Nat, I can feel the judgement here.

Roller skates.

Bucky’s kisses. Blow jobs. Sleepy morning sex.

There were a lot of other sex things to be grateful for, but he wasn’t sure if he and Nat were going to be exchanging lists, and Nat had made it perfectly clear that while she didn’t care that her brother was having sex, she really didn’t want to hear about it (or hear it) in any great detail.

Metallica. AC/DC. Black Sabbath.

Baby Metal.

Guilty pleasure that, and he was sure there were hundreds of hard-core metal fans that were going to come for his head-banging card for admitting it, but the Japanese jpop/heavy metal group were weirdly… cute, for lack of a better word. Like shiny, sparkly vampires, he couldn’t help but love it, even if people with sense, taste, and dignity thought they were awful.

Tony thought dignity was over-rated anyway.

Bucky’s eyes. The way he looks at me The way he looks at kitten videos The fact that he shares stupid kitten videos with me Because he knows I won’t look at them on my own

Bucky. Bucky Bucky Bucky Bucky.

November was a good time to take a cool down walk.

First, it was cool -- cold, even. Walking angrily while bundled up in sweatshirts and a hoodie and a coat and a scarf, with gloves and hands shoved in your pockets was oddly satisfying.

Sweat formed and dried against Bucky’s throat, keeping him mostly comfortable. His chest ached as he dragged in cold air and expelled it in a puff of steamy condensation. Like being a dragon.

All he needed was claws and the ability to fly away from his problems for a while.

Which just got him feeling weirdly guilty because there were so many people who would commit murder (not funny, brain) to have the kinds of problems that Bucky had. Smokin’ hot boyfriend who was smart, funny, and rich? What was there to complain about?

The fucking dishes and who left their trash around the house?

Like, what even was that?

Of course, Tony’s desire to throw money at problems was a bit annoying. Bucky’d taken the phone away from him at one point in the middle of calling a plumber for a loose flap in the tank that had taken Bucky all of fifteen minutes to fix.

Except Bucky could kinda see Tony’s point.

The kind of money Tony had, the kind he made just existing, it seemed a little silly to waste his time putting in new toilet guts and saving a hundred dollars on a plumber fee. Bucky wasn’t even sure why they still lived in Bucky’s tiny, overcrowded flat. Tony’d never even brought it up, but after seeing where Tony had grown up, it was strange that Tony didn’t seem stifled in his place.

Didn’t really make Bucky feel better about the situation. It was a little easier, back when he was bodyguarding for Tony, but that had gone over like a lead balloon. Epic fail.

Bucky didn’t like feeling useless. It bent back to the times when his father had yelled at him about dreaming his life away. The military had gone and shattered that dreamy boy, left him with a man who needed work to have worth.

It wasn’t fair to take it out on Tony, though. Bucky’s ego problems were his own damn problems. He shouldn’t need Tony to prop up his self-esteem, or worse, trying to make Tony feel small so that Bucky could feel better.

That wasn’t the man he wanted to be.

Of course, he didn’t know who he was. He hadn’t been Sergeant Barnes since an IED had tried to erase half of him from existence.

He’d been a bouncer, a bodyguard. He defined himself by what he did, and now that he wasn’t doing anything, he didn’t know who he was.

Tony, at least, had school, and eventually he’d have a company to run. He had court dates and therapy visits.

Bucky had four walls and an inferiority complex.

Fuck.

What… what the hell did he do now?

“Hey, man,” someone said, and Bucky jerked to a stop. People didn’t usually talk to him, especially when he was walking with his resting bitchface on. “Spare a dollar?”

Bucky blinked, suddenly aware of how cold it was. Looked down at the man sitting in the lee side of a staircase. Hard to tell how thin he was, bundled up in a bunch of discards. His face was covered in a thin beard, but he smiled when Bucky actually made eye contact. It was a harsh sort of smile, the guy had a face like a brick wall.

“Yeah,” Bucky said. He dug into his back pocket for his wallet. He didn’t have anything smaller than a twenty in there. What the hell. Bucky thumbed out three of them. Twisted into a squat. Handed them over.

The guy had a young man’s face but old-man hands, the knuckles swollen and bent, fingers red and peeling.

“Thank you,” he said.

“You’re welcome. I’m Bucky, it’s nice to meet you. Cold out here, today, yeah?”

“Oh, man, yeah,” the man said. “Name’s Frank Castle. An’ it’s one of those days, man. Fallish wind is blowin, and it finds the hole in your pants, blows straight up the crack of your ass, don’t it just?”

Bucky couldn’t help a rueful smile at that, pretty damn good description, really. “When was the last time you had a warm bed?”

Frank shrugged a shoulder. “What, man, you writin’ a book?” Bucky couldn’t imagine how bad things had to be to sit on a street and beg for cash, what people probably said and thought and knowing that no way in hell it was ever going to be enough. Little booze to cut the chill, let you forget about that empty feeling in your stomach.

“No,” Bucky said, honestly, “just… come into some money recently and I want to help.”

Frank gave him a sharp glance. “Havin’ a crisis of conscience man, wanna pay back karma by doing a good deed. Fuck off, dude.”

“The room’s no less warm if I’m getting feelgood points out of it,” Bucky pointed out. His father had never held any traction with beggars and homeless before. Bucky’d given a dollar to a wino one day and his dad had yelled at him about it. You feed a homeless guy, give him shelter, and what happens? Well, you just have to feed him again tomorrow. You got extra money, put it someplace where it’ll do some good, kiddo.

Frank tipped his head. “Yeah, truth.”

“Come on, then,” Bucky said, offering a hand up. “I’ll buy you dinner and get you a room for the night.”

“I ain’t gonna blow you,” Frank said, scowling.

“I’m not asking,” Bucky said. He shuddered inwardly. What a fucking world this was, that even something as simple as giving a hungry guy some food was suspicious.

Frank scorned the offered hand up and scrambled to his feet.

“Christ, you’re a big guy.”

“Don’t you forget it, neither,” Frank said. “Street people go missin’ all the time. I ain’t gonna be one of ‘em.”

Bucky nodded. He pulled out his phone, popped off a brief text to Tony to let him know he’d be a bit later than expected. Checked the map to see what food was nearby.

Chinese take-away acquired and it wasn’t too far for a Day’s Inn. He got a room for two days while Frank lurked under the staircase, aware that any hotel check-in manager wasn’t going to want a streeter in their room. Bucky cringed a bit; he knew what Frank must be thinking, must be worried about. How easy it would be for someone like Bucky to make someone like Frank vanish.

“So, what now?” Frank asked, arms crossed over his chest.

Bucky put his load of food down on the tiny table near the television. “Now nothing. You can eat. Have a shower. Get a few night’s sleep. Here’s my cell number. You can call me if you want.”

“You just doing your good deed, and poof, vanishing?”

“I ain’t gotten that far in my head yet, pal,” Bucky admitted.

“Well, whoever you killed that you need this much redemption, I hope he was an asshole,” Frank said.

“Take care of yourself, Frank,” Bucky said.

Frank was already deep in a paper container of Kung Pao chicken. “Thanksgiving came early, got it.” He gave Bucky a thumbs up and turned his attention back to more important things. Like food.

Tony wasn’t always as good with people as he thought he should be. Genius, right? He should be able to figure things out, except the one thing that he had figured out was that people didn’t make sense. They weren’t like circuits that traveled from A to B to C neatly, and they weren’t like science, where doing the exact same thing got you the exact same results.

“Biology,” one of his teachers had stressed, “is not chemistry.”

A biological system could mutate. Could randomize. Could end up being purple for absolutely no reason whatsoever, and sometimes you could track that reason down, and sometimes you just had to throw up your hands and say “magic.”

People were huge biological systems. Not just the meat and bones parts, either. He’d taken a few classes on human bio, just to round out his education a little, and just the basic studies of pharmaceutical science made his head hurt. Nothing in pharma made sense at all. Theory, where everything worked, except medication, where none of it did what it was supposed to and things that did were nonsense and should not have done that at all.

But even Tony could tell that Bucky was in a vastly improved state of mind by the time he got home. He hugged and kissed his sister and then hugged and kissed Tony with a little more heat. Apologized for the take-away being cold and needing to be microwaved, and Tony might have raised his eyebrows a little when he realized that Bucky had walked all the way to Genghis Connie’s rather than grabbing the slightly less expensive and much, much closer (if not as good, Genghis Connie’s made the best egg rolls!) No1. China.

“Well, this explains where you’ve been,” Tony said, taking his chicken and cashew out of the microwave. He was reminded, stuffing a mouthful of saucy chicken into his mouth, that Bucky paid attention. When he’d stormed out to get dinner, which was code for I need to not throw something at you right now, he hadn’t taken an order, or gotten Tony’s opinion on what to eat. But Bucky knew… he knew Tony’s preferences, had remembered them. Sure, Tony sometimes liked to wander off the beaten path and get something else -- particularly at No1, which did not do very good eggrolls, and he usually got the crab wonton there instead -- but he’d commented aside once that Connie’s did the best chicken cashew.

And after a fight, where they’d yelled at each other and gotten exasperated and had to stomp off to sulk like recalcitrant toddlers for fuck’s sake… Bucky had remembered. Had, as the phrase went, gone the extra mile (quite literally) for one of Tony’s favorites.

Tony was honest enough with himself to know that if he hadn’t been doing gratitude exercises with Nat, he might not have fucking noticed.

Bucky warmed up hot and sour soup for himself, handed his sister a packet of crunchies for her egg drop. “Yeah, I was thinking. Sorry it took me so long.” He gave Tony a long, significant look. “I’ll tell you about it later.”

Which was code for I don’t want to talk in front of my sister. Which was understandable. Having an audience for those kind of conversations was awkward at best. Tony stuffed another mouthful of chicken into his face and sat on his mental hands to keep from dragging Bucky off to their bedroom and demand to talk now.

“So,” Nat said, running her spoon up her chin to catch bits of spillover soup. “If you do not want to talk, I will talk. I have news.”

Oh, right. She’d come home with good news, she’d said. “Spill, Nat,” Tony encouraged. “I’ve waited long enough.”

Nat put her food down, finished chewing, and wiped her lips with her fingers.

“I am going to be Clara,” she said. “Dottie Underwood’s pregnant.”

Nat had been Vivandière at first, one of the doll-toys, and also a snowflake, and a Marzipan dancer, but she’d been understudy to the lead-dancer’s role, the child Clara, to whom the Nutcracker Prince was given. Dottie, who was lead, had been prima donna for a long time. Nat had barely been even looking at the role, because no one expected anything to happen to Dottie.

Bucky practically knocked over his food getting up to hug his sister. “Oh, Tash, that’s… that’s a leading role! That’s great!”

“It is… a great opportunity,” Nat said. “She is pregnant with the producer’s child. There have been rumors that she will not be coming back after the baby. We shall see about that, but in the meanwhile, I have this role. And if I perform with excellence, I may be prima dona for the spring show as well. But I must practice, all the time, now. There will be no second chances.”

“Anything we can do to make it easier,” Bucky promised.

“Yeah, congrats,” Tony said, and he joined them in the group hug, happy for his little family. Happy for his to-be sister.

Just… happy.

Grateful.

#winteriron #tony x bucky #holiday spending AU #thanksgiving #gratitude list #tony stark #bucky barnes #fic #fluff

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danvssomethingorother · 7 years

Text

Start Of Something More P2

A03

The second part of my long ass story for @yonduweek

-Ten years later, Half World-

In and out, not gonna stay too long, don’t talk to no one, drop the shit off and we go.

Meredith shoulda known that man was full’a shit.

She ran her fingers gently over her large stomach keeping an eye on Kraglin’s data pad, making sure everything they owed this man was off their ship and none of the men decided to keep any of the dangerous supplies they were dropping off. She couldn’t quite tell you the reason but none of this was sitting right with her. A lotta the people they worked with didn’t sit right with her but half world was so empty. It was barren, surrounded by a jungle of alien life that none of the hardened men around her dared step foot in. The only speck of civilization in this hell-scape was the medical facility dab in the middle of the meteor. She didn’t want to go near it, it reeked of death and made shivers run down her spine, arms protectively wrapping around her swollen stomach.

What was taking him so long?

In and out, yet, he had been inside negotiating with that man for two hours now. She and Kraglin had been in and out of the ship four times now and still no sign of him. This was keeping in mind her personal quarters were a very long distance from the docking bay.

Some of the men, growing as bored as she and her adopted son, were setting games up on the crates she and Kraglin were keeping a close eye on.

“Ma,” Kraglin said through a yawn, “Ya think the captain got side tracked again?”

“It’s possible,” she said making circles around the baby kicking her insides growing as impatient as her, “Might be trying to swindle him out of more money than this junk is worth like he did to them folks on Xandar.”

Kraglin snorted leaning against one of the crates, “That’s what we need. Get into a gun fight when Kraglin Jr. is so close to joining us.”

“I think Yondu settled on his name being little bastard,” Meredith chuckled.

“Nah,” Kraglin said picking at his teeth, “That’ll be his nickname.”

“His name is gonna be David Bowie!” Horuz called over to them pausing in his card game, “I will be quite the rich man when ya name him after that singer yer always going on about.”

“Mick Jagger,” snarled Tulk in disagreement laying down a winning hand making Horuz begin to curse.

“It’s gonna be Yondu Jr,” another argued.

Meredith shook her head, those were not gonna be her son’s name. She had settled on Peter months ago but telling them now would ruin the fun, she liked watching them fight. She liked helping get them riled up suggesting a new singer every week. She had Kraglin put in a bet a week ago for Peter so they could split this money between them, it would be their little secret.

“I can’t wait no longer, I’m gonna go see what’s taking his blue ass,” Meredith decided making each man look towards her with a mix of worry and restraint.

Meredith Quill wasn’t just first mate because she was banging the captain and now carrying his child. This woman was a fire cracker with a quick hand that would have drawn her gun and killed them before they even rose.

“Ma, let me come with you,” Kraglin begged knowing this was trouble. Either Yondu was going to do something rash seeing his girlfriend enter or Meredith was gonna over react and shoot the place up (again) for someone disrespecting her captain.

“Stay with the idiots, baby, mama will only be a minute. You need to be here in case one of these morons tries to steal the cargo.”

“And if we do?” Tulk asked watching her with a raised eye brow.

“Kraglin will shoot ya.”

“Alright, so we’re safe,” Tulk laughed watching Meredith disappear. She opened her mouth to make a witty retort but couldn’t find the words so continued to venture into the compound in hopes of finding Yondu and leaving this place.

“Give me the money ya owe me and I’ll give ya yer shit,” Yondu growled out leaning across the table so the scientist could see his glare and know he was done messing around.

“Mr. Udonta, I paid you to be on time and you weren’t. That is highly unprofessional and due to you breaking our agreement, I lost a patient due to not having the supplies I paid for in advance. You are not getting the second half because you broke our contract.”

“Maybe if’n ya would have warned me the supplies were coming from a Xandarian military base, I could have arranged things better to be on time. I lost fifty men in that dog fight and risked my unborn son’s safety for yer shit! Least ya can do is give me what ya owe me!”

“I wasn’t aware you were having a child,” the man said and Yondu felt his stomach drop at the intrigued look he gave him, “I was under the impression most Centaurians were dead and those who were alive couldn’t breed. What species is the mother?”

“None of yer damn business,” Yondu didn’t like this, he needed to get his money and go before this turned out ugly for them, “All that matters is ya owe me money.”

“The Kree were very good at modifying Centaurians. You of all people should know how miraculous it is for one to have a child at all, that child must be very special. I will give you all the money you want for just the opportunity to study this child.”

Yondu’s patience was lost at that, he let out a low whistle and his arrow was inches from the doctor’s goggles.

The doctor sighed and shrugged in annoyance as if Yondu was the one being unreasonable here.

“You act like I would hurt your child, if anything it would be nothing more than a free check up from a real doctor. I am a leading doctor in my field Mr. Udonta, I do not harm my patients, I merely enhance them and make them more than they ever expected they could be.”

“Yer no better than a filthy slaver if you really think that way and ya best give me good reason not to kill ya now.”

“Calm yourself, Mr. Udonta,” he said not even phased by the arrow still floating close to his face, “A slaver and a researcher are very different. I am taking away no one’s free will. I always ask for permission and as the father you have denied access to your child. So, I will not bring it up any further.”

He paused picking up a stack of papers and sliding them over to Yondu who didn’t touch them. This did not phase the doctor any either, almost expecting it at this point.

“That is the reason I cannot pay you. Your lateness cost us a life, a life more valuable than any of your low life crew will ever be worth.”

“She was in need of those parts so I could complete her new functioning lung as hers was giving out and life support was becoming too costly. I had to put her down to end her suffering because of you. A fine specimen she was, taken too soon.”

Yondu opened up the file and quirked an eyebrow at the man.

“What the hell was she?”

“When I picked her up from a man who was obsessed with all things Terran, she was nothing. A barely evolved, non-sentient creature known as an otter. The other creature I got that day is all I have left. I suppose I can cut the price in half to keep him alive and as an apology for nearly killing your son who seems quite valuable himself.”

“You want to keep yer life now you better double the original offer,” Yondu hissed shoving the papers to the ground, “Let’s get something straight: I don’t like you. We ain’t friends and no one, god damn no one, is allowed to even suggest my boy needs to be caged for the name of shit. Especially yer god damn science.”

“I never said that.”

“But ya implied it. I know yer type. Thinkin’ my boy must be worth somethin’, he ain’t even out of his mama yet and I got to worry about scum like you wanting to buy him.”

“For the love of the gods,” the man hissed, his patience finally cracking, “I will pay you to just leave at this point. You are wasting valuable time. I need to get back to my patients.”

He slid Yondu over a units card before turning his attention away from Yondu entirely, holding up his finger to signal Yondu to be silent before answering his communicator.

“Yes?”

“Is that so? I’ll be there in a minute.”

He smiled at Yondu, a smile that made even Yondu’s insides twist a little.

“It was a pleasure dealing with you. Leave the supplies where we instructed and please leave, our business is done here.”

Yondu opened his mouth to demand an explanation but he got none from the man who was already disappearing.

Yondu wasn’t the trusting sort and didn’t leave anything to chance. Something wasn’t right and he was gonna find out why the hell the doctor gave up on this so easily.

---

Meredith frowned it was too easy to get into this place, all she did was walk into the back entrance. No security, no check points, nothing but a sterile smell and an eerie silence that made goosebumps break across her arms. She didn’t like this, it didn’t feel right.

The place felt like a Terran hospital. Cold, devoid of emotion or life, a beeping coming from one of the rooms and just so damn quiet.

She ran her finger over her stomach feeling Peter kicking up a storm in there, he must have sensed her unease.

“Its alright baby boy, we’re just gettin’ daddy before they decide to check him in this place.”

She had heard stories about Half World and none were pleasant ones. Former employees of this facility coming back to their home worlds changed, all talking about what monsters this place turned them into for the sake of progress and science. No patient had ever been recorded to leave this place. Once you checked it, that was it, you were done for, you were donating your body to science.

That lump in the pit of her stomach grew tighter knowing this was all legal. Half world didn’t have to go by any laws set by the Galactic Federation nor The Kree Empire (which had been enforcing more Federation laws since the signing of the treaty) making anything they did to you behind these walls legal. First class with health care, they had found cures to a number of diseases that many planets accepted happily but the cost was what happened to the patients to get those results.

She wasn’t letting Yondu face this thing alone, something bad was keeping him and this planet wasn’t getting the father of her son.

“Peter, baby, its ok,” she whispered again running her fingers over her stomach taking peaks into the rooms. There weren’t many patients here and the ones she did see were on full life support making her more uneasy.

Peter was restless today, kicking and kicking. Not even born yet and he knew when they were in a bad situation. She needed to turn back for his sake, but she was stubborn and needed to do this on her own.

Something caught her attention ahead of her, it was someone yelling and it seemed all the staff was with that person yelling. Slowly she crept forward, sliding across the wall, fingers latching onto each door knob she passed by testing them in case she needed somewhere to disappear into fast.

“You fucking killed her!!!”

“Calm down, you are only doing harm to yourself. The female otter had no way of surviving as we have been telling you---”

“No!! SHUT THE FUCK UP!!! You could have done more but you didn’t because she didn’t matter---!!!”

“That is very untrue, all our patients matter immensely and we are sad the otter did not make it.”

“Then call her by her fucking name and not treat her as some kind of animal!”

“Calm yourself or we will be forced to drug you---”

Meredith was finally at the door where the screaming was coming from, she peaked into the room and did not like what she saw.

A raccoon (she learned long ago not to question these things) was hanging off one of the large lights in the room and several doctors were surrounding him.

They were trying to get the raccoon down and by the looks of it, he had every right to stay where he was far away from these people. The pink shade of skin peaking from their white scrubs told Meredith they were kree and that meant this would not be an easy fight if she got caught. They were armed with more than just needles too she noted eying the blasters on their sides, this would not end good for her or her son. The smart thing would be turn away while they were distracted and leave, go back to her crew but she couldn’t leave the poor creature by himself. That wasn’t in her nature. She did a lot of shitty things since she joined Yondu but leaving someone to suffer wouldn’t be on that list.

She took a deep breath and decided to use her condition to her advantage. A room full of doctors weren’t likely to kill a pregnant woman.

“Excuse me!” she yelled opening the door clinging to her stomach for good measure.

“I’m going into labor! My captain is doing a deal right now for medical supplies and we can’t leave and I need help right now desperately!”

“Please calm down ma’am, “one of the five doctors said turning away from the raccoon refusing to come down from his spot.

“We can help please just give us a moment.”

“I don’t have a moment, ya idiot! The baby is comin’ now and he’s impatient!! Please!!!” she dropped to the ground letting fake sobs travel through her, clinging tighter to Peter still kicking away, “I need to make sure my baby is OK!!! Yer doctors aren’t ya?!”

She latched onto one of the doctor’s hands, screaming louder in fake agony making a few more of them turn towards her fearing the worst. She looked up, letting out one of her best fake cries to date and caught eyes with the raccoon for just a second and sent him a wink that he returned with a shake of the head at her display.

It was his only chance to take her distraction and he seemed to get that, climbing down slowly while all eyes were on Meredith screaming loudly. One of the doctors com’d for the head doctor to please come to them immediately.

“What species are you, ma’am? Are you Xandarian?”

“No…Terran…please just help me!!! I can’t hold on much longer!! My baby boy is coming!!! I need my boyfriend here. He’s with your head doctor!”

“We have called him, ma’am, please just be patient. Breath. Your life is not in any danger, you are perfectly safe here.”

The scowl the raccoon wore as he unscrewed the vent while Meredith had all eyes on her told a different story.

Luck wasn’t completely on their side though, one doctor glanced up during the commotion and spotted the raccoon trying to make his getaway. He yelled out and two other doctors jumped up with him going towards the rodent. Meredith had always been a quick shot though, pulling out her blaster and shooting two in the back before they could get too far.

At that moment, their gig was sadly up. The head doctor had arrived and he didn’t look happy. The momentary distraction of his arrival was all they needed to disarm Meredith, her heart began to beat erratically. She was fucked now. She may have saved the rodent but now she was taking poor Peter down with her.

“We may have lost the raccoon but I think you should be a more then welcome replacement, miss. Welcome to half - world, you and your son’s new home.”

An arrow flew through at that moment, taking out two of the doctors holding her and she smiled seeing her boyfriend enter the fray.

Her happiness was short lived as the head doctor grabbed her and shoved a blaster against her neck.

“Hi, sugar…” she said meekly smiling at her boyfriend who was glaring daggers at her, the fallen doctors surrounding his feet.

“Hello sweetheart, ya havin’ fun gettin’ caught and endangering our son for some rat?”

“Not my idea of an afternoon but it wasn’t completely awful, I shot some guys before ya came and ruined ma fun,” she chuckled and scowled as the blaster was shoved more forcefully against her head.

“I think you both have had more than enough ‘’fun’’ destroying my facility. Leave now Udonta or your wife…”

“Girlfriend, we ain’t ready to settle down like that yet.”

“Fine, girlfriend, fuck toy, what ever this bitch is,” he snarled his cool composure breaking further tightening his grip on Meredith who groaned in protest.

“You let my patient escape. Go who knows where and I think its fair to say you owe me. I have never encountered a Terran before and certainly not a Terran hybrid, so the child will be enough for me. Whether you get the woman back alive or not is to be seen.”

“You shoot me and I shoot the woman. Both die. You stand down and maybe I will show mercy on your ‘woman’ here and you can both leave together but after all the trouble you have cost me, you are not keeping the child. He is mine now as payment for all my work you have ruined!”

Meredith began squirming at that, he was not having her son. She looked towards Yondu with fear but his eyes promised he wouldn’t touch a hair on their son’s head.

Before either could decide what to do though, the doctor let go of Meredith letting her stumble away from the man who had been holding her. Her arm tight around her stomach, desperately trying to protect her son as Yondu grabbed hold of her, pushing her protectively behind him.

The raccoon from earlier was standing on top of the doctor’s unmoving form, a needle in his hand that was shaking.

“Don’t worry about him, he won’t be getting up. I did to him what he did to Lyla.”

He began walking away from them and Meredith shoved away from her scowling boyfriend in a flash chasing after him the best she could asking him to wait.

He turned his head towards her and she smiled.

“Please allow us to repay ya for helpin us out there and give ya a lift to where ever ya want ta go.”

He shrugged.

“Not like I had anywhere to go anyway.”

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#yondu week #yondu udonta #meredith quill #space lily #Rocket Raccoon #guardians of the galaxy #Dan's fics

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