▬ ⁽ 𝓈𝒽𝒶𝒹𝑒 ⁾
𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ♡︎: ₂˖₁ₖ ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡
𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ♡︎: unedited----- attempted murder, fluff(??), angst. ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎
꒰shade ₊⊹ gn!reader꒱
thinking of a shade, just a little more powerful and smarter than the rest, becoming your protector. little ol' you who's had severe insomnia since you were a child. ♡
shade who didnt want to at first, since it usually didn't meddle in human affairs; besides you were nothing special. ♡
shade who ignores you for the first couple of days before begrudgingly shooing away the pesky, lower demons who crawl over your body. ♡
shade who lays next to you and wraps you within its arms ˙◠˙
shade who finds immense satisfaction in watching you sleep for the first time in a long time. ♡
shade who watches as the demons instead prey on your family. ♡
shade who is too enamored with you to even care. ♡
shade who watches your family fall apart. ♡
𝒴 our lashes flutter open in the inky black room, eyes reflecting a glossy sheen from the remnants of sleep, all while the sound of your sniveling fills the darkness that surrounds you. Against your pale complexion, the deep, dark circles under your eyes become prominent, now moistened by the tears streaming down your cheeks in small rivers. You struggle to recall the last time you experienced a full night's sleep, the memory fading away as you reach the tender age of seven.
Despite the numerous prescriptions, medical professionals, therapists, and even herbal teas you have tried, none have succeeded in lulling you to sleep. You remain confined to your bed, yearning for the day when your eyes will finally close and you’lll find respite in sleep, yet that day never arrives. Occasionally, you manage to drift off into a state of unconsciousness, albeit for a mere five or ten minutes, but it never feels like true sleep. Every now and then your plagued by nightmares—disturbing and horrifying dreams that startle you awake, leaving you gasping for breath.
Ever since you were a small child, you had been wanting, no craving to have a good night's rest– though your weren't so sure anymore. Not if the black abyss that threatens to swallow you whole almost every night is the thing greeting you happily when you finally succumb to the person that is sleep.
Nevertheless, you refuses to let it impact you social life. Each morning, as the sun warmly embraces you with a melancholic smile, you rise from your bed and diligently apply layers of concealer and foundation to mask the exhaustion evident in your eyes. Peering into the mirror, you practice a smile, willing your eyes to sparkle, and whisper softly to yourself, "I'm okay."
You're not okay, you swerve gently in and out of traffic, eyelids heavy as you force yourself to work. All you want is to sleep, to feel normal again. Deep down, you knows that what you yearn for is something you can never truly have, but yiu can always ‘dream’.
As the day finally draws to a close, you retreat to your bed – the same bed that bears the imprint of your body from countless nights, the same pillow that holds your thoughts and tears captive, and the same dusty dream catcher that fails to capture any dreams. You're anxious for what your mind might conjure up tonight, but you embrace it with ease – slipping beneath your cozy comforter and switching off the lamp.
A cool warmth envelops your body, your tense muscles finally finding release, and you feel a sense of relief wash over you. You nestle yourself into that snug cocoon – savoring the way it makes your eyes grow heavy with the blissful weight of sleep. It's not the kind of sleep that startles you awake in a panic every night, but rather one that feels natural and inviting.
You're too comfortable to notice the faint outline of a body beside you, mind too far gone to notice the emaciated arms that tighten themselves around your body, pressing your form into the depths of its torso. Even if you were of sound mind, you would simply attribute any strange sensations to your lack of sleep.
That night you sleep for the first time in twelve years, without any nightmares to ruin the unusual but sweet moment. You, this time, don't greet the sun as it rises in the sky, no, you don't wake up until late evening, waving goodbye to the sun as it drifts away from your sight.
Suddenly, your alarm blares from your nightstand, reminding you of your impending night shift. Dread fills you as you recall the eerie occurrences that often plague you during these dark hours– shadows come to life, items are in places you didn’t put them and customers come in faceless.
You feel fine today, energized even. You don't want to push your luck though; and so when you leave for work, passing your mother and older sister- who seem to be completely out of it, you grab an energy drink and wave them goodbye.
You worked diligently and quickly that night, your manager thoroughly surprised that your movements aren’t sluggish anymore and so he praises you enthusiastically– you can only smile in thanks as you rings up another customer.
The night goes on smoothly, and as the sun begins to rise and wave its warmth at you, you realize that the energy drink is still next to you, untouched. You're tired from working the night though and you clock out as soon as the time strikes 6AM.
Cool brisk air greets you as you exit the gas station, wisps of cold brushing your cheeks while you walk to your car. Excitement fills you as you look forward to finally getting some rest after a long day. However, a lingering sense of caution remains, reminding you that what occurred earlier might have been a mere coincidence; and so the car ride home is made up of your thumb tapping against the steering wheel and the sound of your heart pumping quickly.
Silently, you ease open the door to the house, moving with delicate steps as you enter. You gently places your keys into a bowl, its transparent purple hue catching the light. You hang up your thin jacket and slide out of your shoes, placing them in front of the shoe closet haphazardly.
As you ascend the staircase, your movements are hushed, making sure to avoid any creaks on the staircase. You reach your room door, a contented sigh escaping your lips.
You plop down on your bed without a second thought, still clad in your work attire. With the room pitch black, You sleep easily. Cocooned in warmth once more, your body relaxes itself. Despite feeling a slight pressure on your body, you pay it no mind.
Sleep comes quick for you, but not your family. The moment your head touches the pillow, their nightmares start to rear their ugly heads, their once peaceful sleep is no more.
The dark figure that graces you with sweet dreams, relishes in the way your skin gains color, the way your dark circles lighten and your forehead creases smoothe out. You weren't special in any way, many humans out there had the exact same condition that you did- maybe even a bit worse off than you.
The entity couldn't resist being irresistibly drawn to you, despite its own reservations. Seeing a human with so much potential- wasted, was excruciating. So, it clings onto you tightly, using its presence as a protective barrier against the demons that are inexplicably lured by your human essence and dormant state.
However, the shade finds itself far from bored. It observes as your chest rises and falls with each breath, watches as your lips curve sporadically with sleeping ticks; and the serene expression that graces your face.
It can even discern the muffled whimpers and groans emanating from the rest of your family in the adjacent hallway, as the demons voraciously feed on their fear and anguish, draining their life force.
The shade doesn’t care if your family suffers for a bit longer though, now they can fill your shoes. It was only fair.
Your lashes flutter and then open at 8:19 PM, you can hear the sound of pots and pans in the kitchen just down the stairs and the soft jazz music that only plays when your mom is cooking. You slide out of bed and pad softly out of the room, stretching your body as you walk down the stairs.
"Good morning," you playfully mumble to your older sister, who is seated at the kitchen island. Your eyebrows knit together in confusion when your sister doesn't reply. Curiosity piqued, you took a few steps closer, gasp of surprise quickly stifled.
Jo-Lene’s face is pale, her lips are chapped and her cheeks a bit sunken in. Around her eyes are dark circles that the girl has never gotten before. You cups your sister's face in your hands, titling it back and forth. “ Have you stayed up late working on your book?” Jo shakes her head, softly removing your hands from her cheeks. The older of the two of you shrugs her shoulders and covers a yawn with her hand. "I haven't been getting much sleep lately."
Slowly, she trails off and shakes her head, taking a moment to savor the dark coffee in her cup. "You know, besides the fact that I can't sleep, I also have the most terrible nightmares," she admits. You nod in understanding, settling down beside her and grabbing a banana from the fruit bowl. "You're starting to sound just like me," You tease, playfully rubbing her shoulder to offer comfort.
With a slow fade in her voice, she trails off and shakes her head, taking a deliberate sip of her dark coffee. "You know, it's not just me. Mom and Dad struggle with sleep too," she reveals. You glance at your mother, eyes widening in disbelief. "You're not kidding," You bite into your banana before pushing it against the side of your cheek to speak. “Weirdly? I’ve been able to sleep for the past 2 days. No nightmares; and for hours at a time.”
Your mother stops chopping up vegetables, mouth slightly ajar and eyebrows raised. “Oh! Honey, that's amazing, I’m so happy for you. How did you do it?” You can't recall doing anything out of the ordinary, except praying to sleep well.
You shrug your shoulders and chew the banana some more before swallowing. “I didn’t do anything, it just happened.” Jo nudges you with a smile. “Maybe you’re cured.” You give her a sarcastic smile, grabbing her coffee and taking a sip. "I highly doubt it, probably just a one-time thing."
“Also, this could be temporary for you guys as well. I’m sure it’ll pass soon.”
Little did they know, this temporary situation was about to become a never-ending nightmare. Days turned into weeks, and your restful slumber continued while the rest of the family suffered from sleepless nights. As sleep deprivation took its toll, the atmosphere in the house became increasingly tense.
Your fathers short fuse ignited violent outbursts, leaving you helpless as you watch your family crumbled before your eyes. Initially, you played the role of peacemaker, but as time went on, resentment grew.
As the weeks pass, younotices a shift in the house. Your family seems to be keeping their distance, observing your peaceful sleep and well-rested demeanor with suspicion. Slowly, they begin to direct their frustrations and animosity towards you.
You learn to sleep with your door locked, especially after a harrowing night where you wake up to an alarming pressure against your neck, feeling your father's chubby, thick hands squeezing your throat. Determined to protect yourself, you start sleeping with your door locked and even go as far as barricading it, when your mother begins sleeping beside you, clutching a knife tightly between the two of you.
Your once close-knit family becomes a source of fear and suspicion, leading you to distance yourself and cut off communication. Preferring solitude, you opt to order food instead of joining them for dinner and secretly slip out of your window to go to work. You’re consumed by terror when it comes to your family, but you refuse to surrender to the sleepless nights you endured in the past.
Even if it kills you, you think your family can suffer for a little longer. You’ve dealt with severe Insomnia since you were little, and you were still sane. As a sharp knock resonates through the door, your body tenses. You hear your sister's gentle, drowsy voice calling out, "Are you awake?" Though cautious, you respond with a soft hum, ensuring Jo-Lene can hear you.
“I want to apologize. Mom and Dad have gone a bit crazy.” You cut Jo off with a scoff. “A bit? Dad tried to strangle me and Mom isn’t any better.” Jo is silent for a moment before sniffling. “You're right, which is why I think you need to leave.” You blinked owlishly at the door, eyebrows furrowing. “What? What do you mean?”
“Mom and Dad have set up an account to transfer money to you.” A small envelope is slid underneath your door. “Find a motel to stay at until you think you’re ready for an apartment.” You bite the inside of your cheek, contemplating your decision. "Ok, then what.” Jo shrugs despite you not being able to see her. “We’ll see each other on Holidays?” She jokes softly but you don't laugh.
“For how long?”
“Until we can figure out this whole situation.”
You hum before getting out of bed and grabbing the envelope that has the credit card in it. “Okay. I’ll leave.”
You leave in the morning, without saying goodbye to your family and without looking back. You smile softly at the faint, dark outline of the entity next to you and sit on a bench in front of a bus stop.
“ Thank you.”
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geyser
series masterlist
pairing: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader
summary: percy learns about the first girl luke castellan ever loved.
a/n: this is a lil sad. sorry about that. but i really like it and it came out of nowhere in like 2 days so i hope you enjoy despite the sadness. title from the mitski song
wc: 6.5k
warning(s): major character death; not shown but hangs over the whole fic. angst made angstier by fluffy flashbacks. mostly told through percy’s pov but includes luke, annabeth, and reader povs
also if you saw this before on another account DONT WORRY... that account was also me. im just doing some stuff behind the scenes right now as i figure stuff out lol i promise no plagiarism is going on
Percy thought that his head might explode.
He didn’t know how he was still walking, honestly. His mom died, he killed a— no, the— Minotaur, all the Greek myths were real and his dad was one of them, and now he had to deal with that freak accident with Clarisse and the toilets.
At least he would be ready next time she tried to beat him up. Percy had been the new kid enough to know there would be a next time.
All he could do was stare at the Minotaur horn in his hands, the only sign that what happened outside the border was real. The horn in his hands and the hole in his heart.
Percy swallowed the lump in his throat. He’d been thrown into the deep end, and the only thing on his mind was when he would start to drown.
“Hey.” Percy looked up to see the counselor he’d met earlier with Annabeth—Luke. He tossed a ziploc bag at him and he caught it, taking a moment to look at what was in it.
“I stole you some toiletries from the camp store,” he explained. “Thought it might make you feel more at home.”
“…Thanks.” He didn’t know if Luke was joking, but the damage had already been done. And it was the nicest thing someone had done for him so far. He set it down next to his Minotaur shoebox. “Is this the best that it gets?”
Luke’s lips quirked up in a slight smile. “For now. We’re a little crowded, if you couldn’t tell.”
“Just a little bit.” Percy stood up from his sleeping bag and worked out the knot in his shoulder. “Where’s your bed? Assuming you have one.”
“I couldn’t wrangle all these cats without some back support,” he said, and he pointed to a bed in the corner. It was the only one on its own without a bunk, and he had a fair amount of decorations. Counselor privileges, he figured. Percy walked over, Luke trailing behind him.
“Nice place,” he said. Percy picked up the Yankee’s cap on his bedside table and nodded as he looked back at him. “Nice taste.”
“It’s for Annabeth,” Luke said. “She wanted us to match.”
Percy nodded again in approval. “Good taste for both of you.”
Luke had various other things around — an alarm clock knocked over next to the baseball cap, a huskie sticker on the wall half-scraped off, a poster for an album he didn’t recognize.
But the thing that caught his eye was a polaroid hanging on the wall, surrounded by a smattering of others varying in size.
The first one had to be an old picture—Luke didn’t have his scar, and the biggest smile stretched across his face. He had a girl close with an arm slung around her waist, and she might’ve been smiling even more than Luke. A bright energy emanated around her, something that must have transferred through the picture, because Percy found himself feeling a little better just looking at her. He wondered if she was a camper.
His eyes flicked to the next picture, which was another one of Luke and that girl. They were both laughing as she tried to put a blue hat on Luke’s head, and he protested with a hand on her wrist. They were in the forefront of a baseball game, Percy noticed.
There were other pictures, too—Luke, a girl dressed all punk, and what looked like a young version of Annabeth, most notably—but a majority of them were either Luke and that girl, or the girl all on her own. In every single one, she beamed brighter than the sun.
Percy pointed at the picture of Luke and the girl at the baseball game, his curiosity getting the better of him. “Who’s that?”
That seemed to catch Luke off-guard, his lips parting for a moment as if he wanted to say something. It barely took him any time to get back on track, but Percy found himself frowning.
“That’s…” Luke cleared his throat, wet his lips, shook his head. “A friend. A very good friend.”
“Does she go here?” Percy asked.
“She did.”
He frowned. “Where is she, then?”
“Percy—” Luke’s voice was strained, but he didn’t really notice as he went on.
“I didn’t see her around,” he continued, “and you look pretty close.”
Luke blinked a couple times, and Percy swore he could see the telltale glimmer of tears starting in his eyes. A muscle worked in his jaw, and suddenly Percy was worried that he’d said something horribly wrong. He had a talent for that, it seemed.
Fortunately, he was saved by the bell—conch shell?—and something like relief flooded through Luke’s expression. Tension still coiled in his body.
“Come on,” he said, that camp counselor smile coming back as he put his hand on Percy’s shoulder and guided him away from the enclave. “That means dinner’s about to start.”
Percy’s frown deepened as curiosity won out again. “Was she your—”
“You don’t wanna be late,” Luke continued, ignoring his attempt. “I assume you’re pretty hungry after two days spent out?”
Well, that only made him want to push harder. But Percy figured he wouldn’t get anything out of him—especially not now.
“…Yeah,” Percy said. “Starving.”
An odd look flickered across his face, but again, it only lasted for a second before he was back to normal. He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “Eleven! Fall in!”
Percy was at the back of the line by virtue of him being the new kid, and he found himself looking back at that picture of Luke and the girl. He didn’t know why, but something drew him to her. Before Percy could think about it more, the line was moving and his growling stomach drew his attention away.
He would have plenty of time to ask Luke about it later.
Or rather, ask him and piss off the only person who’d tried to be his friend so far.
…Gods.
Maybe he was going to drown sooner than he thought.
-
“Luke—”
“No!”
“Luke, please!”
“Annabeth will kill me if she knows—”
“She won’t know!”
“Alright, alright— stay still, you two!”
Your mother laughed from behind the camera as you and Luke fought with each other, you trying your damnedest to get your Red Sox cap on his head as he tried his damnedest to stop you. The frantic laughter on both sides made it a little difficult for either of you to succeed in your quest, but eventually, you got the rock up the hill and the hat on his head.
“Take the picture, Mom!” you exclaimed, pulling Luke even closer by his arms so he couldn’t get it off. “I need the proof!”
“I knew this was a bad idea,” Luke groaned, staring at the camera as you wrapped your arm around his side and leaned into him. He could already imagine your victorious smile, brighter than the sun beating down on them in the stadium, and just the thought of it made one of his own flit across his lips.
“Oh, shut up, Castellan,” you said. “You chose to come to this game. Everyone’s gonna know you’re a Red Sox fan now.”
“You said you wouldn’t tell her!” Luke defended, wrenching his arms free of your control to take the hat off his head. “I don’t even care about baseball!”
“You care so much about it,” you said cloyingly, “and you’re ride or die for the Boston Red Sox.”
“If you say a single word—”
“Okay, kids!” Your mother pointed at the seats next to her. “The game’s about to start—you can keep arguing, but only if you sit down so I can see.”
“Sorry, Mom.” You grinned at her as you pulled Luke over to your seats—they were a step up from nosebleeds, but they were the ones closest to the balcony so you could at least peer over the railing down to the diamond.
“It’s alright, sweetheart.” She glanced at Luke with a smile, and he could really see where you got it from. “We’ve gotta make him a fan somehow.”
“I guess I can live with the brand.” Luke set the cap back on your head once you were seated, purposefully pulling the brim a little over your eyes, and he smiled at you. “Even though it looks better on you, anyways.”
“You just don’t have what it takes to be a Red Sox fan in the heart of Yank territory,” you mused, pushing the hat back up so you could see. “It’s fine.”
Luke rolled his eyes, but he could hardly bite back his smile.
“I am glad you came, though,” you said, glancing back at him. “I’m glad you came with me in the first place. This is gonna be the best semester.”
“Thanks for having me,” Luke said. “It’s… it’s been a while since I’ve left camp.”
“Fingers crossed for no monster attacks, eh?” You held up your hand. “At least, not during the game. I could live with it happening any other time.”
“Don’t speak it into existence,” your mom said. “We’re going to have a monster-free school year.”
To humor her, you made a claw over your heart and pushed out. She hummed in satisfaction, and you looked over at Luke. “It’s gonna be fine.”
“Yeah,” he said. “Because two kids like us aren’t gonna draw any attention.”
“Oh, I know we will,” you said. “But I know it’ll be fine.”
Luke frowned. “How can you be so sure?”
You shrugged with a smile. “I’ve got you.”
And in that moment, he was thankful for the freakish heat that honestly made no sense in the spring—at least it covered up any sign of what your words did to him.
Luke thought you were joking when you asked him if he wanted to come back home with you for the school year. He didn’t know why you wanted to go back in the first place, being a Big Three kid that apparently had a death wish, but the thought of him leaving camp was almost inconceivable.
Even after you assured him you weren’t joking, he still wasn’t sure. He was on the run with you for three years, then…
Well, he couldn’t think about it for too long. But Luke had been on the outskirts of regular society for so long, doing nothing but fighting for his life, that he didn’t know if he could actually function at a normal school.
But it felt right for you two to get some normal time together after you were separated for so long. It took him a semester to decide, but one day during your usual Iris message conversations, he told you he’d love to spend the rest of the year in Boston with you. Luke still remembered the grin you wore, your disbelieving but victorious cheers, the apology you yelled back at your mother for your noise.
Luke watched you as you talked with your mom, discussing Boston’s chances and player statistics and baseball jargon he didn’t think he’d ever understand, and he knew he would sit through a thousand Red Sox games if it meant he would get to keep seeing your smile.
You must have felt his eyes on you, because you glanced over at him. “Are you okay?”
Luke smiled. Gods, he was so glad you were here.
“Never better.”
-
“That one nearly got me,” Luke said.
Percy huffed as he picked up his sword from the ground—he was pretty sure he would officially lose his mind if Luke disarmed him with that stupid move one more time. One benefit to the Hermes cabin being too scared to associate with him after getting claimed was that he wasn’t making a fool out of himself in front of other people.
“Maybe I can only beat you when I pour water on myself,” he said.
Luke chuckled as he took a bottle from the cooler on the side and held it up. “Wanna try?”
He shook his head. “I think my arms will fall off if I keep going with you.”
He tipped his shoulder. “Fair.”
Percy stared at the ground as Luke gathered himself, trying to put the free range thoughts roaming around his head in order. It didn’t help that he’d gained a million questions after Poseidon claimed him, and it didn’t help that there’s been a newest addition to his dream last night.
He still felt strange asking Luke about it, but he had to know more about her. Percy didn’t know why it felt like his mission to find out who this mysterious girl was, or why he felt that strange connection to her. Maybe it was the way Luke acted whenever he brought her up, maybe it was that she’d popped up in his dream next to him at the very end, maybe it was just plain old curiosity.
“I’m not supposed to be alive,” Percy said, breaking the silence. “I could die at any time in a bunch of different horrible ways. So will you tell me more about that girl on your wall?”
Again, Luke seemed to be caught off guard by it. Percy heard the crunch of plastic as his hand clenched ever so slightly around the bottle, and he tried to cover it up with an arched eyebrow. “Why do you want to know so badly?”
He shrugged. What was he supposed to say?
“I’m curious,” he decided.
Luke huffed a dry laugh before he took a sip of water, and he stared off into the distance for a while. He did a lot of staring whenever this girl was brought up. They looked like they were best friends in those pictures, but maybe whatever they had ended badly. And if she was a demigod too…
Well, it would make sense why he didn’t want to talk about her.
“You know that phrase about curiosity?” Luke asked.
“And how it killed the cat?”
He nodded, drinking some more. “It goes double for demigods.”
“Everything else wants to kill me,” Percy said. “So curiosity’s gonna have to get in line.”
Luke’s laugh was a little more genuine this time, and he shook his head. “I guess I can tell you a little about her. You actually probably have a right to know.”
“Is she a half-blood?” Percy asked immediately.
He nodded. “Yeah.”
“Who’s her parent?”
Luke capped his water bottle and looked at Percy for a good, long moment. His face glowed in the warm afternoon sun, his scar cast in a softer light than usual. The scar used to unnerve him, but he’d gotten used to it after weeks staring at it during sword fighting.
“She was a child of Poseidon, Percy,” he said. “Just like you.”
Percy felt short of breath, like Luke had just knocked his sword out of his hand and shoved him to the ground. But he stood on his own two legs that somehow still worked, and Luke hadn’t moved.
He had a sister?
“I have a sister?”
“…Had,” Luke corrected. “She… she died a few years back.”
A vice latched onto Percy’s heart. He was still having a hard time breathing. No wonder Luke always used past tense when he was talking about her.
He had a sister, he wasn’t alone, but he was because she was dead. And if Luke was one of her friends, that meant she died young.
Gods.
“What about their oath?” Percy asked, trying to ignore the aching in his chest. “I’m already on thin ice for my whole existing thing. How did Poseidon get away with two kids so close to each other?”
Luke shrugged. “I’ve never known why gods do things. Her mother was a great woman, though—I could see what drew Poseidon to her against the oath.”
One half of Percy wanted to ask every question that kept popping into his head. The other side of him wanted to break down and cry.
“How did you meet her?”
“We ran into each other when we were both young,” he said. “Both child runaways, both demigods, both New Englanders—we decided to rough it out on the road together. Couldn’t be any worse than doing it on our own.”
Percy tried to imagine it. A young Luke and a younger version of that girl—maybe Percy’s age—living together in the wilderness and fighting monsters. Surviving off of nothing but their wit and skill, facing death each day before they’d even reached middle school.
“It… it didn’t happen then, did it?” he asked hesitantly.
Luke shook his head. “Couple years later. All we did was watch each other’s backs out there.”
Percy couldn’t help himself. “What happened to her?”
“The same thing that happens to everyone,” Luke said flatly. “There’s a reason I’m the oldest one here.”
“That doesn’t make it better,” Percy insisted. “It— it makes it worse, Luke. You see that, right?”
Luke stared at his empty water bottle then tossed it back into the cooler. When his gaze met Percy’s, he was shocked by how… tired he looked. Beyond exhausted—bone-weary. Percy wanted to say more, but he didn’t get the chance.
“This isn’t good conversation,” Luke said, “and it’s getting late. You should hit the showers before dinner.”
The sun still beat down on them, bright and angry in the sky, but Percy provided no argument. He had a lot to think about.
Before they went their separate ways, Percy stopped and looked back at him. “I’m sorry she’s gone, Luke.”
Luke’s gaze went unfocused for a moment, his eyes growing glossy. “So am I.”
-
Percy sat on the floor of the Hermes cabin in the corner that used to be his, staring at his meager belongings. He had to decide what to take on his quest, which was made easier by the fact that he hardly had anything to his name. Things could always be worse, though. At least he would have a change of clothes.
He should’ve been doing this in his own cabin, but it felt too empty, too suffocating in its silence. Eleven was still more familiar. He heard the door open and saw Luke walk in, and his eyes lit up when he saw Percy.
“Hey,” he said. “I wanted to see you before you left. How’re you feeling pre-quest?”
“Like the world’s about to end,” he said.
Luke’s lips twitched into a smile as he sat on the bed across from Percy. “Understandable. It kinda is.”
“It’s just overwhelming.” Percy shoved the unfolded clothes into his backpack. “I have to clear mine and my dad’s names and get Zeus’s bolt back, or else war will start. No pressure at all.”
“You were chosen for a reason,” Luke said. “You may not see it, Percy, but you’ve improved a lot since you got here. If anyone can do this, I think it’s you.”
Percy looked up at him, and he was reminded of the way their last conversation went. He was asking before he could really stop himself.
“I could die on this quest and never see you again,” Percy said. “So could you tell me more about my sister before I go?”
Luke smiled wistfully and sighed. “You really won’t let this go, will you?”
“It’s not really something you just let go,” he said. “Besides, I… I saw her in my dream last night.”
Luke’s smile faded. “You did?”
Percy nodded. “For a split second, but I know it was her. I felt the same way I did whenever I looked at her pictures. And… it’s the second time she’s shown up.”
He let out a long sigh and shook his head, his gaze trailing off to the wall. He always looked so much older when he talked about this girl, like he was a war veteran reminiscing on his lost love. And from what he’d gathered, it might not have been too far off.
“I told you we ran together when we were young,” he said, and Percy nodded. “We were both nine, and it should’ve been terrible, but she had a way of making everything better. Always found the bright side of things, was always able to make me laugh.”
“She was from Massachusetts—right in the middle of Boston.” Luke chuckled as he looked at Percy. “Huge Red Sox fan.”
Percy grimaced. “We all make mistakes.”
Luke smiled, though it faded a bit. “We got separated for a while, but we found each other again when I got to camp. Things were more peaceful than they are now, so she’d been claimed at camp pretty quickly. I figure Poseidon wanted her to have the protection of him openly standing behind her after what happened.”
He frowned. “What do you mean, ‘what happened’?”
Luke shook his head. “That would be an awful story to send you off on.”
Percy wanted to protest, but he didn’t. Luke was probably right—Percy didn’t want to make him relive it and then have to go on a death quest right after.
“A happier part, then,” he suggested.
“She ran away from home as a kid to protect her mom, but now that she had an idea of what she was doing, she started going back to school. She invited me to stay with her during the school year one year, and I accepted. That—” Luke’s throat bobbed, and the other hand clenched into a fist— “that was when she died.”
In his stunned silence, Luke got up and went over to his alcove. He pulled the drawer open on his bedside table and pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper. It must’ve been folded and crumpled a million other times in messier ways by all the creases he could see, but when Luke opened it, he could see handwriting all over the front.
A letter.
“We Iris messaged each other constantly while she was at school,” he said, “and we wrote back and forth when we couldn’t. This was the last letter she sent me.”
Percy’s first instinct was to say he wouldn’t be able to read it, but he realized that he didn’t really care. These were words that his sister wrote—he would sit here the rest of the day forcing sentences to make sense if that was what it took.
So he took the letter when Luke offered it.
To the one and only Luke Castellan,
My mom said yes! After a very long interrogation (she now knows basically everything about you) and a million promises that you would be as careful as possible and that you were good enough at sword fighting to take down anything that could come after us, she said you can spend the year here. We spent a couple hours every day making my mom’s study into a guest room, so you have a place to stay.
I’m an idiot that didn’t bring enough drachmas so that’s why I have to send this letter—hopefully it gets to you soon enough, because we’re gonna come get you a week before my winter break is over. Mom is letting me drive down because she says I have to get my permit soon. It makes sense that my first big test is getting to you. If we don’t make it, it’s because we died in a fiery crash.
Just kidding. I’m a great driver. But tell me some of your favorite songs when you reply and I’ll burn a CD for the ride—I figured out how to use LimeWire. Oh, and throw in a couple drachmas with the envelope so I can Iris message you next time. I miss your face and your voice, and my hand is cramping up writing all of this.
But this is so exciting! I can’t wait to introduce you to all my friends at school, and show you my favorite places in the city, and make you into a Red Sox fan. And you can come to my soccer games— I’m the greatest forward there is.
Jokes aside, I’m going to make sure you have the best time. We’ll spend every second together, Luke. We’re gonna make up for the time we lost.
I can’t wait to see you again.
Your hurricane.
It took Percy a long time to get through it with the words swimming all over, and it didn’t help that his vision had grown blurry.
Tears, he realized as he blinked, and he did it again to make sure they wouldn’t fall. He couldn’t cry in front of Luke, not over a girl he didn’t even know—even if she was his sister. But maybe he was grieving that—the fact that he would never get to know her.
“God, man. I— I’m sorry.” Percy couldn’t think of anything else to say. “She sounds like she was great.”
Luke couldn’t even manage a smile this time as he stared at the wall. Percy was surprised he could even talk to him about it.
“She was,” he murmured. “You would’ve liked her. And gods,” this time, a bit of a smile broke through despite it all, “she would have loved a little brother.”
“I’m gonna make her proud on this quest,” Percy vowed. “I’m gonna clear our dad’s name for her.”
Something in Luke’s gaze had changed—sadness, almost regret. “You’re a good kid, Percy. I hope your quest doesn’t change that.”
I hope I come back alive, he wanted to say. But given the topic matter, he didn’t. Percy carefully folded the letter back up and handed it to Luke.
“Thank you for telling me about her, man,” Percy said. “I… I know it can’t be easy.”
Luke let out a shuddering breath as he stared at the closed letter—Percy wondered how many times he must have sat in this same position, reading her words. “No better way to honor her memory than helping her brother.” He glanced at Percy. “I see a lot of her in you.”
He’d been wondering if he had anything in common with her. Percy felt a sudden flare of anger shoot through him—it wasn’t fair that she was dead. Poseidon was a god, and she was a teenager. He should have saved her.
Percy’s mouth was drier than a desert. A part of him wanted to curl up in a ball and sob over the sister he never got the chance to know, but the other part of him knew—from what little Luke had told him about her—that she wouldn’t want him to.
“I should get going,” Percy said, standing up from the floor. “We have to leave for the quest soon, and Annabeth and Grover are probably wondering where I am, and…”
Percy trailed off, and Luke nodded in understanding. He turned around and took one of the photos off the wall—one of you alone in the middle of a park, wearing a bucket hat and absolutely beaming.
“You deserve to have a part of her with you,” he said. “For good luck.”
He felt himself choking up, and he pushed it down as he accepted the photo. “Thanks, man. It means a lot.”
“Good luck, Percy,” Luke said. “You’ve got a lot of people rooting for you.”
Percy found himself studying the picture of you once he made it outside, trying to memorize your face. With your wide, infectious smile that emanated pure sunlight, he could have mistaken you for an Apollo kid. But when he looked at you, he got that same warmth that he felt every time he imagined his father.
“I won’t let you down,” he murmured. “I promise.”
-
After sleeping in his train seat for half the day, Percy vowed to never complain about his bed in Cabin Three again. He was gonna be going down to the Underworld with permanent cricks in his neck.
Grover was still sound asleep—Percy envied him for how easily it came to him in the worst conditions—but thankfully, Annabeth wasn’t. Her gaze was focused on the view as their train chugged along.
Percy cleared his throat in a flawless attempt at getting her attention, and it worked.
“You’re awake,” she said.
“Unfortunately.” Percy sighed. “How much longer do you think it’ll be?”
“Another day, at least,” she said. “And we’ve got a layover in St. Louis.”
“St. Louis,” he hummed. “Nice.”
They sat in silence for a while—there wasn’t much to talk about when they were coming off of two— or was it three, now?—near-death experiences. But eventually, Annabeth cleared her throat, taking a page from his book, and it worked again.
“There— there’s probably something you should know,” Annabeth said, and that worked even better than clearing her throat. “You’re not the only Big Three kid to come through Camp Half-blood lately.”
“I know,” he said. “Grover and Luke explained it.”
Her eyes widened slightly and she leaned forward in her seat. “Luke did?”
“…Yeah. You all already told me about Thalia.” Percy glanced away, suddenly feeling a chill in the train car. “Luke told me about my sister.”
Annabeth went silent.
“It’s okay,” he said. “I kind of annoyed Luke until he told me. Doesn’t really seem like a subject people at camp like to talk about.”
“I’m just surprised he did,” she murmured. “They were… they were close, Percy. Her death destroyed him—Thalia and your sister. All of it’s complicated.”
“Yeah,” he sighed, “I got some of that.”
“I only knew her for a year at camp, but everyone loved her,” she said. “She was nice. Popular. Always helped when she could, always had the biggest, most infectious smile on her face.” Annabeth looked down at her hands. “She didn’t deserve the fate she got.”
Percy didn’t think he’d ever grieved so much for someone he never knew. “But her and Luke—were they…?”
“Yeah,” Annabeth said, “they were a thing, later on.”
That seemed to be all she wanted to say on the matter. Percy decided not to push.
“How did you meet her?” he asked.
Annabeth’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I met her on the day I thought I would die.”
-
For the first time in her life, Annabeth Chase couldn’t think.
It had all happened so fast. One second she was running with Luke and Thalia and Grover, praying to her mother and any other gods that would listen to make the horde of monsters let up even a centimeter.
The next, she’d collapsed on the ground, never so grateful to have grass and dirt and dust in her face. But she could hear Luke yelling, barely able to make it out in her delirious state—she didn’t know when she’d last had a sip of water, and they’d been running for at least three miles—but he sounded hysterical.
She remembered her last clear thought: they weren’t going to make it.
But they had. They had, so why was Luke losing his mind?
Annabeth pulled herself up from the ground—how long had she been bleeding out of those slashes on her arm?—and looked for the rest of her friends. Luke wasn’t yelling anymore, instead arguing with someone she didn’t recognize in a bright orange shirt. Grover’s furry legs trembled as he stared down the hill they’d just gotten up, completely silent, and Thalia—
Where was Thalia?
Annabeth tried to get up but her legs gave out almost immediately, and steady arms caught her before she could fall to the ground again. Kind eyes served to ease some of her panic—she was older than Annabeth, maybe around Luke or Thalia’s age.
Thalia—
“Hey, you’re okay,” the voice said, and Annabeth’s attention was drawn back to you. “I’ve got you.”
“Where’s Thalia?” she blurted out, because now she couldn’t think of anything else.
Your brows creased and you glanced back down the hill—Annabeth did too, and she saw Grover and Luke arguing with each other. Or rather, Luke was yelling at him as Grover anxiously hooked his hands through his hair.
“I don’t know,” you said, “but right now, I need to make sure you’re okay. Are you hurt?”
Annabeth absentmindedly held up her arm, but she was only focused on her friends. Why wasn’t Thalia with them? Why was Luke so upset?
You cursed under your breath in Ancient Greek as you cradled her arm, and you looked back down the hill. Annabeth could see at least half a dozen other kids.
“We’ve got two half-bloods and a satyr, one injured!” you yelled back. “Get Molly and Brayden!”
“Three,” Annabeth found herself saying. “There’s three half-bloods—”
“Annabeth!”
Her head shot up at the sound of Luke calling her name as he bounded over, and her eyes widened at the blood steadily spidering across the fabric of his shirt.
“Luke, you’re hurt—”
“I’m fine,” he insisted. “It’s fine.”
“We have Apollo kids coming,” you said, looking up at him, still cradling Annabeth’s arm. “We’ll get y—”
Your sentence stuck in your throat, and Annabeth could see tears welling in your eyes as your brows furrowed. She thought Luke’s eyes might burst out of his skull as he stared at you, his lips parted but nothing coming out. Neither of you were able to form words.
When he finally did get something out, it was a single name. One Annabeth knew by heart, one that he’d mourned for years.
“Luke?” you whispered.
Before he had the chance to do anything, two teenagers got over the hill and called out your name, the same one Luke used. He always said you were dead, but you clearly weren’t dead, because you were here and you had her arm in your grasp and while your hands were cold, they weren’t cold enough to be dead—
“Molly’s gonna take care of you,” you said, looking back at Annabeth and cutting off her inner dialogue. “She’ll get you to the infirmary and heal you up, okay?”
“My friends—”
“They’re gonna be okay too,” you said. “I promise.”
Annabeth looked up at Luke, and he nodded. “We’ll be with you soon, Annabeth. We— we have to talk about some things.”
So she went with Molly down the hill, and Annabeth put pressure on her bleeding wound when she told her to—it had started to sting like hell now that her adrenaline was fading.
She looked back just in time to see you and Luke share the tightest hug ever.
The hug of two people who realized they weren’t seeing ghosts, Annabeth thought.
-
You bolted up in bed, eyes wide and your chest heaving as you rapidly sucked in air. Your fingers found purchase in your bedsheets, desperate for something familiar—it took a second for you to recognize your surroundings, that you weren’t in an endless void, but your childhood bedroom offered little comfort.
You ran a hand over your forehead, damp with sweat, as you tried to calm down. Your breathing slowed, but you couldn’t shake that awful feeling that hung over you in your sleep.
Your nightmares were getting worse, you knew that much. That raspy, demented voice used to be a rarity, and now it appeared every night. You could usually deal with your nightmares, but the sense of absolute dread that voice and the pit fostered in you was too much. You hadn’t managed to sleep through the night once since you came home for the school year.
You could deal with the monsters—to you, this was the worst part of your godly blood.
A knock rattled on the door out of nowhere, and you nearly jumped out of your skin. The only thing that calmed you down was the thought that monsters didn’t knock.
“Come in,” you croaked, your throat drier than a desert.
Thankfully, a monster hadn’t come to make your night even more miserable. Luke stood in the doorway, his eyebrows creased in concern, messy curls hanging just above his eyes. He wore the Red Sox t-shirt you’d bought for him at the game you dragged him to, and in your addled state, you didn’t even think to tease him about it.
“Are you okay?” He should’ve been as disoriented as you, but his alerted eyes told a different story.
You could only think of one thing. “How did you know?”
Luke’s lips parted for a moment, as if he hadn’t even considered it. “I could just feel it.”
You managed a smile despite every atom in your body screaming at you. “I think that means you can come in.”
He closed the door behind him, and you shifted over in your bed to make room for him. There wasn’t much in a twin, but you made it work. Luke’s weight pressed into the mattress, making you adjust your position, and it was more comforting than any amount of blankets.
“You’re so cold,” he murmured, laying the back of his hand against your arm. “How do you live like that?”
“Blame my dad,” you said. “I’ve got water in my blood.”
“I think that’s probably a bad thing,” Luke said, and you knocked your shoulder into his with a huff.
“You know what I mean.”
Luke let his hand fall back in his lap, and as you brought your knees up to your chest, you pulled the covers with them.
“So,” Luke said, glancing at you, “what’s got you awake at the witching hour?”
“The usual,” you mumbled.
“Nightmares that might be prophetic?” he asked.
You made a lazy gesture with your hand. “Bingo.”
“The worst sense of dread imaginable?”
“Bullseye.”
“I’m sorry,” he said.
You shrugged. “It’s nothing I can’t deal with.”
“You don’t always have to put on a front, y’know,” Luke said. You felt his eyes on you. “You don’t always have to be strong.”
“I’m naturally strong,” you said with mock austerity. “Comes with the god for a dad.”
Luke chuckled and shook his head. “You know what I mean.”
“Yeah,” you murmured.
You leaned into his side, fitting your head into the crook of his neck. Luke wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer, and you let out a contented sigh.
That voice in your nightmares seemed so small when you had Luke.
“Can you stay?” you asked softly.
He didn’t hesitate. “Of course.”
“Just like old times,” you whispered.
“Just like old times,” he agreed.
Luke ran hot, and you’d never been more thankful for it as you fully settled into his side. Icy blood ran through your veins, and you let out a shaky sigh. You could hear his steady breathing, feel his heartbeat through his chest, and the anxiety from earlier began to steadily fade. You never felt safer than when you were with Luke.
There was something between you—you weren’t that stupid—but you hadn’t talked about it. With you and Luke, it was just… you and Luke. You didn’t have to put a label to it.
How could you put a label to your relationship, when you’d spent your first few years together fighting for each day, and then the next few thinking the other was dead?
Maybe someday, you would talk about it. But for now, this was more than enough.
“Don’t worry,” Luke murmured in your ear as your eyes began to droop. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”
And by the gods, you believed him.
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First Trimester
(This is a short drabble I couldn’t get out of my head, idk what this is lol)
Bucky kept his head in his hands, eyes closed tightly. His breath ragged.
He could hear Steve’s loud footsteps pacing the room while Sam stood rooted in place. He could hear his friends’ heartbeats thumping rapidly.
“And you two-“ Steve couldn’t get the words out.
“That’s usually how that happens.” Sam retorted sarcastically.
Steve’s hands shot up. “I’m just trying to understand how this happened!”
“Looks like I should have had the birds and the bees conversation with both of you.” Sam rolled his eyes.
“What am I going to do?” Bucky croaked, his throat dry and scratchy. The question was mostly for himself, wondering just how he would manage everything happening in his life.
“You aren’t going to do anything.” Sam ran his hand over his face. “Before you go into crisis mode like a chicken running with its head chopped off, you need to make sure it’s yours.”
Bucky’s eyes snapped open.
“Sam-“ Steve’s cautious tone only made the Falcon more angry.
“Here’s what we know,” Sam’s voice was firm. “You two have got super soldier serum running through your veins, it changed your bodies drastically. Which obviously means your swimmers were altered, doctors told you the probabilities of you two getting someone knocked up are zero.”
“Close to zero.” Steve corrected.
“Whatever,” Sam rolled his eyes again. “Now- this one goes around the tri state are area banging anything with legs.”
Buckys cheeks burned red.
“Two months later, someone comes around saying they’ve got a super soldier baby brewing- does that not sound shady to anyone else?”
Steve rubbed his hand against his chin. “When did Dr. Cho say she could get a paternity test?”
“Two weeks.” Bucky whispered.
“Then these are going to be the most stressful two weeks of your life, kid.” Steve slumped his shoulders.
She hadn’t let the crippling nervousness seep into her body, work, friends and exhaustion had been great distractors. But now, as the steel gates of the Avengers compound opened she felt it.
She was the one who had encouraged a paternity test when she knocked on Bucky’s door weeks ago.
She hadn’t thought twice about missing her period the first month. Long hours at the art gallery we’re to blame, right? But as the days turned into weeks and the strange knot in her throat tightened, she decided to take a test.
Not thinking anything would pop up except the not pregnant label on the plastic test, she left it on the counter and forgot about it. That is, until a three minute timer rang and the scariest word ever written was staring at her. Pregnant.
(Y/n) waited a full week before visiting a gynecologist. Some gel, and ultrasound and some probing later, she was pregnant and that was that. She didn’t even register the bean sized blob on the screen. A muffled sound replaced the cheery doctor’s voice.
“Is Dad excited?” The young doctor smiled. Dad, fuck there’s a dad that needs to be notified.
(Y/n felt as if she’d stuffed a handful of gravel down her throat. She nodded weakly and lied. “He’s ecstatic.”
What she should have said is: he’s terrified.
When Bucky saw (Y/n)’s text on his phone, he’s ego shot up. He whistled as he prepared some eggs that morning, thinking highly of himself.
I don’t usually go back for seconds but I guess I can make an exception. Bucky thought as he shaved his face that morning. He wore a pair of grey sweatpants and a tight shirt, a combination he’d read online was the bee’s knees for getting women riled up these days.
But there might as well have been nothing underneath those boxers he was wearing because the shocking news killed any kind of vibe he had been feeling.
(Y/n) rocked backwards and forwards nervously as she stood in his living room. She didn’t even want to come in but he’d insisted. Now, Bucky was slumped back on his couch with his eyes set on the floor.
“I know this sounds strange-“ she swallowed. “But I don’t usually do what we did, I don’t do one night stands. I love relationships which is why my friends convinced me to sleep with you- not that I needed convincing you’re like so hot but you know what I mean. Well, I guess you don’t know what I mean because you barely know me, barely know I exist.”
“You love relationships?” Bucky’s eyes widened.
“I-well- shit- I shouldn’t have said that. It sounds-“ You sighed deeply, trying to collect her thoughts. “What I’m trying to say is that, you’re the only person I’ve had sex with in- a long time. And I want you to know that I’m not telling you this to make you feel like you have to be involved- that is if we decide to keep it. I just thought you should know that I’m pregnant.”
She tried to make her voice sound firm and confident but her whole body rejected the idea. There was nothing she was more afraid of than this. This life altering decision.
“And you’re thinking of keeping it.” He whispered, blue eyes staring back at her.
(Y/n) nodded slowly then shook her head. “I don’t know. Yes, maybe. I have a stable job, pretty decent insurance and a nice apartment downtown so, I’ve got the basics covered. I’ve always wanted children, not now but- I don’t know.”
“I’m also aware this is insane news so, I understand if you need time to process or decide if you want to- be involved, I guess.”
Bucky slowly nodded. She wrapped her cardigan closer to her body and his whole body jerked up, standing from the couch.
“Ar-are you, showing?” Bucky’s curious tone made her lips tweak upwards.
“It‘s been like two months and it’s the size of a bean so, no.” She tried to lighten the mood.
“You’ve been to the doctor?”
She nodded. “She told me I could have a paternity test done in a couple of weeks, if that’s something you’re interested in.”
Paternity test- paternity. Those words didn’t even seem real to Bucky. It had been such a distant thing that the thought hadn’t registered in his mind yet.
“I’ve got a couple of doctors that would probably know how to handle that-“ he said pointing to her stomach. “With the whole, serum and everything. Would you mind if I talked to them?”
“I don’t mind, whatever’s better for bean, right?”
Bucky’s body was enveloped in a foreign feeling. So different than anything he’d felt before, an unsettling feeling in his stomach that brought goosebumps to his skin.
“The bean?” Bucky furrowed his eyebrows.
“Not the bean. Just, bean.” Her cheeks burned and a smile developed on her lips. “The doctor said it’s going to be a while until I can find out the sex so, I’ve been calling it that. Bean.”
“Bean.” Bucky repeated quietly, fighting from letting out a smile. He couldn’t let himself get involved, not before a decision was made. Did he want to be in bean- the baby’s life? Was he even the father?
(Y/n) and Bucky walked through the white corridors at the Avengers med bay in silence.
Both of them stopped at an opened door.
“You sure you don’t want to come in and check I don’t switch up the viles, rig the paternity results?” She regretted the joke as soon as the words flew out of her mouth. Bucky’s blue eyes widened. She had tried to lighten the mood but the only thing she succeeded was to make Bucky uncomfortable-
“Good thinking,” Bucky’s lips twitched upwards. “I’m sure having my old ass sperm in there was your plan all along.”
She couldn’t help a giggle escape her mouth. Bucky placed his hand on her lower back and lead her into the room.
He held her hand through the procedure and followed her back to her car after everything was done.
“I guess I’ll call you once the results are in.” Bucky bit his bottom lip as she nodded, the tired look on (Y/n) worried him. “I just wanted to say, again, how grateful I am you’re being so cooperative.”
(Y/n) saluted him. “Anything for our troops.”
Bucky tipped his head back with laughter. “Please let me know when you get home safe.”
—
Her feet ached, scratch that, her whole body hurt. (Y/n) usually worked a double shift on Sunday’s to get double pay since that was the day rich people usually liked to shop at the gallery. Even though this was routine for her, she felt extremely tired this time. Pregnancy was starting to take a toll on her body.
(Y/n) heard the rain patter intensify as someone opened the glass doors.
“H-hi.” Was all she heard.
“We’re closed.” She called out but no one answered.
A sopping wet Bucky stood at the front of the gallery.
“Looks like you need to buy an umbrella.” She smiled.
“I’m going to be a dad.” The words came out stuttered, like he was trying to stop them.
Bucky stopped talking the second he received the email. DNA test result came back positive. He was the father. A father. That word echoed through his mind all day but he didn’t tell anyone a single thing, not until he could figure out how to manage the information. Steve would try to find solutions, Sam would freak out, Nat would laugh and Tony would probably ignore him. Each and every one of his friends’ reactions would stress him out more than he already was. He had no one, no one to talk to about this. Except her.
(Y/n) sighed deeply, taking her heels off and walking towards him. Without saying anything, she wrapped her arms around his neck and brought Bucky close to her. The tension he felt between his shoulder blades disappeared the second he was in her arms.
She softly held his face in her hands. “I haven’t decided anything and we still have time to figure out wether or not we want to keep bean-“
“Bean, oh God bean.” Becky’s eyes met hers. I can’t let bean down. He thought.
“I understand if you don’t want to go through with this.”
“Look at me.” Bucky’s voice was hoarse. “I need you to know that I want this- I want bean so much you have no idea. The thought of me having a kid was so lost but you’ve- I- I am forever grateful and indebted with you, you have no idea.”
(Y/n) smiled. “So we’re doing this? We’re having a baby?”
“Let’s have a baby.” He said.
Part 2: Second Trimester
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