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roman-writing · 3 years

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bring home a haunting (4/12)

Fandom: The Haunting of Bly Manor

Pairing: Dani Clayton/Jamie Taylor

Rating: M

Wordcount: 20,133

Summary: Dani almost has her life together, when a familiar face arrives back in town after ten years. A childhood friends AU written with @youngbloodbuzz

read it below or read it on AO3 here

It was well and truly autumn. The air had a bite to it and the ground crinkled with every footstep. Everything had lost its vibrant edge and had become brown and wet and stagnant. Nothing but mud and rain and fresh crops on the produce shelves in the grocery store. The nights grew longer and the days shorter, and winter would be fast upon them.

In other words, Dani's least favorite time of year. She had long come to the conclusion that she was not built for the cold. Even now, sky overcast and gloomy, struck through with bared tree branches like black lightning, she wore a thick coat, scarf, and hat. Her boots were splattered with mud from the walk, and she would occasionally admire the way her breath steamed in the air like a cloud with every exhalation. Meanwhile, Jamie wore nothing more than a woollen jumper over her usual t-shirt and jean ensemble. Her scuffed and battered shoes looked even more worse for wear with a layer of caked dirt all up the soles.

They were digging through the illegal dump found midway down the abandoned rail line, affectionately called 'Mount Tire' by the locals. Dani had heard her mother complain about it along with other townsfolk at the annual general meeting of the Council, as though it were a dark mark on the face of the town rather than a treasure trove of objects that otherwise might have gone without a home.

From further along, Jamie made a triumphant noise, and Dani lifted her head.

"Did you find something?" Dani asked.

Jamie's reply was a series of grunts and the sound of something clattering. Dani wandered over to find her brushing off an unearthed bicycle that had seen better days.

Jamie held it propped up with both hands while she inspected it with a critical eye. "I can fix this," she said.

Dani's eyebrows rose and she gave the bike a dubious once over. "It's missing a seat."

Jamie made a dismissive sound while she crouched down to test the chain. "Damn," she swore. "This'll need replacing. Spokes are fine though. And it all looks like surface rust to me. I can fix it."

"Again," said Dani, pointing out the obvious. "There's no seat."

"Always such a Debbie downer," Jamie said even as she aimed a grin at Dani over her shoulder. She straightened. "C'mon. Let's go down to the petrol station."

"What for?" Dani asked, following along beside Jamie as she guided the bicycle with her hands, rolling it along down to the train tracks.

"Tires are flat," Jamie said, tapping one of said tires with the toe of her shoe for good measure. "Tread's fine, though. They've got free air down at the station, and I want to see how bad the damage is."

It was miles away to the gas station, but Dani didn't mind. Not when it was with Jamie. Not when their Saturday was free and they could spend their time aimlessly chatting about everything and nothing in particular. They were still talking and laughing when they arrived at the station, the bike ticking like a clock with every rotation of its old wheels.

Jamie propped the bike against the wall outside before they went in. The owner, Mr. Thompson, was wearing a baseball cap and reading a magazine inside. His head lifted when the bell attached to the door rang, but as he saw who it was that entered — not a customer, just a few kids — he swiftly lost interest. His gaze dropped back down to the magazine on the counter.

"Afternoon, Mr. Thompson," Dani greeted with a little wave.

He grunted a wordless reply, then said, "I don't do candy discounts."

Beside her, Jamie bristled. "We're not that young."

As he flicked to another page — some sort of automobile magazine with shiny cars and motorcycles splashed across it — his eyes moved up to them with a lazy sort of indifference. "You really are, kid."

There was a determined set to Jamie's jaw as she approached the counter and placed her hands on it. "I want to use your air pump outside."

"It's free, isn't it?" he said, his attention firmly back on the magazine. "Don't need to tell me you're going to use it. Just use it."

"I also want to buy some stuff to fix up a bicycle. Tire repair kit. New chain," Jamie ticked off items on her fingers. "Do you have anything that'll help clean up rust?"

Mr. Thompson was watching her now, cheek resting on one fist. "Matter of fact, I do."

"And I want to use your tools out back."

His eyebrows rose and he blinked slowly at her. "You got money to back up that mouth of yours, Miss Taylor?"

Jamie dug her hands into her pockets and pulled out a few crumpled up bills and spare bits of change. She slapped them onto the countertop. Mr. Thompson glanced down. "That's enough for a new chain and none of the others. Sorry, kid. Come back when you have more."

Slowly, Jamie deflated. She began to drag the money back into her hands from the table, but Dani stepped up beside her, rising up on her toes to better be seen. "Excuse me?"

Both of them turned to look at her.

Clearing her throat, Dani forged on. "Can we pay in something other than cash?"

Mr. Thompson's brow crinkled. Somehow he still managed to look bored despite it. "Like what?"

"Well, no offense, Mr. Thompson, but your shop -" Dani gestured around them, "- is kind of a mess. How about we clean it? Windows. Floors. Or -" she said hurriedly as he leaned back, "- we can operate the pump for anyone who comes around? That's -? That's worth something? Right?"

Glancing around the shop, he tipped back his baseball cap with the knuckle of one finger, then swiped at his nose with a thoughtful sniff. Jamie opened her mouth to say something, but Dani stood on her foot and surreptitiously shook her head. Jamie scowled but closed her mouth and kept silent.

Finally, he waved towards the door that led to the little warehouse and service shop out back. "Brooms and cleaning equipment is back there. And for God's sake don't touch the pumps. Last thing I need is you two spilling gas all over the road."

The effect was immediate. Jamie's face lit up like a Christmas tree, and she began tugging Dani towards the back room, saying, "I get the windows! I'm taller!"

"Hey!" Dani complained, but grudgingly accepted mop duties when push came to shove.

It was slow work, with very few customers to interrupt the boredom. Jamie made a game of pulling faces at Dani through the glass as she cleaned the windows from outside. Dani laughed and would pretend to descend down stairs as she walked. Mr. Thompson kept an eye on them from behind the counter, shaking his head and flipping through his magazine with a mutter under his breath, "Kids."

When a car eventually did roll up to one of the pump stations, Mr. Thompson straightened in his seat. Dani and Jamie were just about finished cleaning when Judy stepped out of her car and saw them. She hesitated, cocking her head curiously, before striding inside. As she opened the door, she kept it propped open with her hip and lifted her sunglasses so that they were perched atop her head.

"What on earth are you two doing?" she asked, looking between Jamie and Dani.

"Trading," said Dani.

"For bicycle parts," Jamie added, and she gestured with a rag towards the old bicycle leaning against the wall.

Judy aimed a questioning look at Mr. Thompson. "That right, Hunter?"

If anything, he looked a bit bashful. "Place needed cleaning, and they don't have money," he grumbled. "Didn't think there was any harm in it."

With a shrug, Judy said, "All right, then. If everyone's happy, then I'm happy. Can I get this filled up?" She pointed to her sedan. "Should only be half a tank, but I'm driving to Cedar Rapids to visit my sister tomorrow."

"Sure thing," Mr. Thompson said. He rose from his seat and ambled out to fill up the car.

Judy kept the door open for him and remained standing in the doorway. She crossed her arms. "And what are your plans for Christmas this year?" she asked Jamie.

Jamie lifted a spray bottle and squeezed some solution onto the window before wiping at the glass with the rag. "Dunno," she answered. "Same as last year. Home with Nan."

"Well, Dani's coming over to my place with her mom," Judy said, nodding towards Dani in question, who listened with a keen ear. "Why don't you and Ruth come over like you did for Thanksgiving? We usually open presents in the morning and have a big lunch."

"Oh, uh -" Jamie hesitated. She glanced through the glass at Dani, who was nodding furiously and all but bouncing on the balls of her feet. Even then, Jamie's expression was unsure. "I'll have to talk to Nan about it."

"Well, you tell Ruth to give me a call, all right?"

Jamie nodded and mumbled something that was too muffled through the glass for Dani to hear properly. Whatever it was made Judy laugh. "Oh, you're going to be trouble one day, Missy," Judy said with a good-natured chuckle.

Jamie’s only response was an impish grin.

When Mr. Thompson had finished refuelling Judy’s car, Judy approached the register to pay. As she pulled out a few bills from her wallet and handed them over, she said, “You know, you should hire the Jones’ boy. Stanley? I hear he’s looking for part time work.”

Mr. Thompson took the money and punched in a few buttons on the register to get her change. “Shop’s fine.”

Judy took the change with a shrug. “If you say so.” And on her way out, she paused, door held open. “Don’t work them too hard, Hunter. I’ll see you girls later.”

After her car had pulled away from the station and they were left alone with Mr. Thompson once more, Dani and Jamie turned to look at him. He had returned to his place ensconced behind the till, magazine open on the countertop, hiding behind a row of confectionaries and chewing gum. When he felt their eyes upon him, he went very still, hand frozen in place as he turned the page of a new magazine.

Sighing, he jerked his thumb to indicate the wall behind him. “Tools are in the back. Don’t hurt yourself. Especially you.” He jabbed his finger in Jamie’s direction. “Your grandmother puts the fear of God in me.”

The news of it spread like wildfire across the school the moment it happened. A fight in the east wing.

Dani and Eddie were already on their way there in search of Carson and Jamie who were late to lunch, when other students rushed past them shouting back the news. The pair exchanged a worried glance before taking off, following the clamor around the corner to where a group of kids were shouting and cheering on at a pile of indistinguishable bodies scuffling on the floor, swinging and pulling violently on each other.

Dani’s stomach dropped, and immediately cast her eyes around in search of Jamie, worrying at her lower lip when she couldn’t spot her in the crowd. In that same moment, a group of teachers came rushing through.

“All right, all right, settle down!” Mr. Roberts shouted, pushing his way through the crowd and pulling apart the wrestling bodies with the help of the art teacher, Mr. Keller.

When Mr. Roberts pulled up the recognizable form of a disheveled Jamie, breathing heavy, her nose bleeding, and a righteous fury burning in her eyes that Dani hadn’t seen since that day in the back alley, Dani sucked in a sharp breath.

Eddie sighed exasperatedly. “Again?”

“Nan’s gonna kill her,” Dani murmured, frowning in concern. When Jamie wiped at the blood pooling from her nose down to her mouth and chin with the sleeve of her shirt, wincing as she smeared it over her face, Dani winced along with her.

It didn’t make any sense. No one had bothered Jamie since the first year she arrived at North Liberty after her fight with Roger in the stairwell. The knowledge that Jamie was perfectly capable of defending herself, and fought like a caged beast when cornered had grown widespread across the school. Dani knew. She’d seen Jamie fearlessly tackle one of the twins during a playfight session at the river where, at the time, Tommy had already stood well over a foot taller than Jamie.

Dani took a step forward, scanning the pile of students being pulled to their feet to see who was responsible. A hand grasped her arm, pulling her to a stop.

“Danielle,” Eddie hissed.

Dani almost spun around to glare at him, but her eyes unexpectedly caught Jamie’s. Jamie’s eyes darted pointedly to a corner in the hallway before catching Dani’s again. Dani frowned, but Jamie only responded by pressing her mouth into a thin line and jerking her head towards the same direction, slowly being pulled away by the arm down the hall.

With one last grimace of a smile, Dani watched her go as another teacher began dispersing the crowd. When Jamie turned a corner, Dani finally exhaled, her shoulders dropping from where they had bunched up, and she scanned the direction of the hallway where Jamie gestured towards. Stepping towards it, she was once again tugged to a stop. She looked down at her hand where Eddie’s had at some point slinked down from her forearm to her hand, holding it in a loose grip. Dani darted her eyes up at him to see that he wasn’t even paying attention, still frowning uncomfortably at the laughing kids who still loitered the hallway.

Dani huffed. “Eddie.”

“Yeah?”

“Can I have my hand back?”

He turned to blink blankly at her, and then down at their clasped hands. “Oh,” he said, snatching his hand away, his cheeks turning pink. “Sorry.”

Dani sighed, and returned to scanning the hallway, stepping further through groups of her classmates, until she spotted a familiar figure on the ground, curled up and trembling against the lockers with their head buried in their arms.

Dani gasped. “Carson!” She rushed towards him, kneeling on the dusty floor and pressed a hand to his shoulder, “Carson, are you okay?”

He flinched away, head jerking up to stare at her with wide watery eyes. He relaxed when he saw it was just Dani, his face crumpling in relief as he nodded and wiped his cheeks.

Eddie kneeled on the other side of him, eyes fearful. “Are you sure? What happened?”

Risking a glance around them, there were still students being ushered away, some even staring and snickering in their direction. Dani’s stare hardened into a scowl. “Not here,” she said, pushing to her feet, holding out a hand for Carson, “Let’s go outside.”

With downcast eyes, Carson took her hand for her to help pull him up and didn’t let go as she guided both boys outside to their usual spot along the brick walls. They huddled together in a circle with their lunch bags in their laps.

“Well?” Eddie said, his knee bouncing, wearing a worried frown. “What happened?” Carson sighed and didn’t answer. “Are you in trouble?”

“No,” Carson said, then twisted his face. “At least, I don’t think so.”

“What do you mean you don’t think so? It’s a yes or no question.”

“Eddie,” Dani said, and his mouth promptly snapped shut, looking sheepish. Shaking her head, Dani returned her gaze back at Carson, the youngest O’Mara looking so unusually despondent. She shifted a little closer to him, their knees knocking together, rested a hand on his back and said softly, “It’s okay, you can tell us.”

Carson sighed again, and after a moment, he finally said, “You remember those guys I told you about?”

Dani’s heart sank, knowing immediately what he was referring to. She caught Eddie’s eyes and saw the realization slowly hit him, his face pulling into a grimace. It was only the natural state of things, when Tommy and David graduated from elementary school to the golden gates of high school, for opportunities to arise on the pecking order. With the twins gone, they had taken with them a safety net that had left their little group in peace for the past few years, and out of all of them, the ire of a particular group of the student body had zeroed in on Carson.

“What did they do?” Dani asked.

Carson shrugged morosely. “Calling me names again. Shoving me. Whatever.”

“But why was Jamie there?” Eddie asked, pushing his glasses up his nose.

“She walks with me to lunch sometimes,” Carson said.

Slowly, Dani softened, recalling all those moments in the past month where Jamie would rush off after the lunch bell rang, claiming to need the washroom, and arriving later at the lunchroom with Carson by her side.

The rest of the story came out of Carson gradually. Jamie not being there on time to accompany Carson to lunch. Being cornered by a group of boys in the hall, and by the time they were shoving Carson and getting aggressive, Jamie jumped into the fray.

“And she just -!” Carson’s eyes by now were wide and fervent, “She came out of nowhere and told them to the piss off!”

“Please don’t say that in front of mom,” Eddie groaned.

“And then, I don’t know, someone started shoving again, and suddenly they were just all fighting,” Carson said, taking a wild bite of his sandwich that he had pulled out in the middle of the story, “Oh! And then Roger jumped in — “

“Roger?” Dani and Eddie blurted in unison.

Swallowing hard, Dani leaned forward with a worried frown, “Was - was he fighting Jamie, too?”

The thought of Jamie taking on not just three, but four boys by herself sent her heart crashing, but Carson was already shaking his head before Dani even finished the question. “No! He was helping her!”

Dani blinked. Roger Simmons helping Jamie in a school fight. Maybe pigs really did fly.

As Carson’s story began to wind down to what Dani and Eddie already knew, Dani sobered, biting at her thumb. “I think you should go to the principal and tell them what happened.”

Eddie frowned. “Why?”

“Because he was there and the fight started because they were bullying him in the first place!”

Shifting on the concrete, Eddie hunched his shoulders. “I don’t know. It might make things worse.”

Dani huffed. “How?”

At Eddie’s noncommittal shrug, Carson shrank back, his eyes darting between Dani and Eddie before landing back on Dani. “I didn’t mean to get Jamie in trouble, I swear,” he mumbled.

Dani sighed and grasped his hand. “You didn’t,” she said, “Jamie knew what she was getting into. But if we go to the principal’s office now and tell them what happened, she might be in less trouble if they knew she was defending you and herself.”

Nodding eagerly, Carson was already haphazardly packing away the rest of his lunch and pushing to his feet. Dani almost smiled as she followed him to stand, but the tight lines of Eddie’s mouth stopped her.

They retreated back inside and towards the school office in silence. When they arrived, Dani immediately scanned the room for Jamie, but there was no sign of her and the office was empty. She eyed Principal Davis’ office, her brow knitted as they stepped towards Ms. Reeves.

After a short conversation with Ms. Reeves, Carson was guided towards the principal’s office with Ms. Reeves' hand on his back. Dani balled her hand into fists and bit her lip as she watched him, his shoulders bunched and his head bowed. Beside her, Eddie was anxiously bouncing on his toes, before abruptly blurting out, “Wait - uh. Ms. Reeves?” At the sound of her name, Ms. Reeves glanced back. Eddie stood up straight, pushing his shoulders back, and said, “Can we come with him?”

Ms. Reeves sighed and gave them a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry, honey, but no,” she said,

“But he’s my brother.”

Ms. Reeves gestured towards the bench. “You can wait here for the rest of lunch if you’d like, but I’m afraid unless you have something important to add, you can’t go in.”

Both Dani and Eddie deflated, giving Carson one last grim smile and thumbs up that he returned with a small wave. When Ms. Reeves knocked and opened the principal’s door, Dani craned her neck for any sightings of Jamie, but all she could see were the backs of chairs populated by boys, and a stone faced Principal Davis. Carson was guided inside, and then the door was shut with a thud of finality.

Giving them one last pointed look, Ms. Reeves gestured towards the bench before retreating back to her desk, picking up the phone with a sigh.

There was nothing more to be done except to take a seat and wait, pretending like they couldn’t hear Ms. Reeves explaining to parents that they needed to come down to the school. Dani winced, a pool of dread whirling in her stomach for the oncoming hurricane of Nan. They snacked on the remains of their lunch as they waited silently.

When ten minutes had passed, and Carson still hadn’t made a reappearance, Eddie sighed anxiously. “He’s okay, right?”

Dani almost didn’t hear him, absentmindedly snacking on peanuts as she stared at the principal’s office door. “Yeah, if Jamie’s there, of course he is,” Dani replied.

“God, mom’s gonna kill me.”

“Why?” Dani finally pulled her eyes away to frown at him.

“‘Cause I didn’t watch out for him like Tommy and David,” he said, bouncing his knee, staring at the floor, his face distressed. “Or like you and Jamie.”

Dani’s shoulders dropped and she reached out to grasp his hand, easing it out of its clenched fist to clasp their palms together. “It’s not your fault,” she said, “There was nothing we could’ve done. Jamie was just lucky to be there at the right time today.”

Eddie huffed, his mouth twisting, still visibly concerned and displeased. Dani didn’t know what else to say, she opened her mouth, hoping to find the words to comfort him, but the distinct ominous sound of a tapping cane stopped her. At the sight of a scowling Nan marching in the office, the first to arrive as if the wrath of God had lit a fire under her, Dani immediately shot upright, pulling her hand from Eddie to stand.

Nan’s mouth thinned when she caught sight of her. She tisked, tapped Dani on the ankle with her cane, and said, “Sit.” Dani did as she was told, biting her lip as Nan stared at her, and then said, “Well? Where is the little shite?”

Swallowing hard, Dani pointed towards Principal Davis’ office. “Already in there,” she murmured.

With a grunt, Nan didn’t even bother checking in with Ms. Reeves. She marched towards the door and knocked hard on it with her cane. “Harvey Davis, open this door before I break it open.”

The door swung open to reveal Principal Davis wearing a grim smile, just short of paling. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Heron, thank you for — “

“Shut it, and let’s get this over with,” Nan said, pushing past him in the room. Principal Davis exhaled and shut the door.

Lunch passed quickly after that, a few other parents arrived but there was still no reappearance of Carson or either one of Eddie’s parents yet. They unwillingly shuffled off back to class where they waited out the rest of their day anxiously. Eddie was only able to finally relax when he received a note from the office telling him that Carson was taken home early by their dad, his head thunking on his desk with a loud sigh of relief. Dani chuckled at him, but she still felt worry pulling at her stomach. By the time the final bell rang, Jamie hadn’t returned to class at all, not even for the few things still remaining atop her desk. Dani took it upon herself to gather it all up and stuff them in her locker, careful to keep any loose pages wrinkle free.

When they were outside, free from school for the weekend, walking towards the beige car that was already waiting for them by the curb a little ways down the street, Eddie looked to her with an eager expression. “Hey, do you want to sleep over this weekend? David and Tommy promised to play Dungeons and Dragons with us.”

Dani’s face twisted. “To play what?”

“Don’t you remember? I told you ages ago. You said you’d play with us.”

“Oh, I - I wanted to go to Jamie’s to see if she’s okay,” she said, grimacing, and then added, “I was gonna sleep over.”

Eddie’s face fell. “But you promised.”

Dani did remember promising, absentmindedly nodding along to the idea in the O’Mara’s basement where they had all congregated around the tv to watch the latest animated Robin Hood movie, snickering quietly to Jamie’s commentary.

“I know,” Dani said, “I’m sorry. I’m just worried.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “She’s probably fine.”

“She was bleeding everywhere!”

“So? She gets hurt like every other week, it’s nothing special,” he said, scowling at the ground.

Dani grabbed his arm and pulled him to a stop, her mouth thinned. “I’m sorry, Eddie,” she said, “I promise we can hang out soon, but Jamie’s my best friend, I can’t just not see if she’s okay.”

“I’m your best friend, too,” Eddie shot back, his face flushed and his eyes bright, and then froze, ducking his head with a timid expression, and murmured, “I just wanted to hang out.”

Dani’s heart sank. She didn’t know what else to do or to say. She squeezed at his arm that she still held and moved to slip her hand down to his, but he pulled away with a huff.

“It’s fine, just forget it,” he said, and continued towards the car.

She followed after him. “Eddie,” she called out, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he said, resignation in his voice, not looking at her.

Quietly, Dani worried at her lower lip and followed Eddie into the car where Mike was waiting for them. They settled into the backseat and buckled up, both visibly troubled that Mike twisted in his seat to give them an awkward consoling grin. “Hard day, huh?” Mike said, eyes darting between them. “Don’t you kids worry. Carson’s doing all right.”

When they both silently nodded, Mike’s gaze landed on Dani. While for the most part, Dani and Mike rarely spoke more than five minutes at a time with each other, he was still always a kind and welcoming man. He gave her a tight grin and a nod. “Jamie, too. I think. Lord knows with that grandmother of hers. Never seen Davis turn that color before.”

Dani breathed out a chuckle.

“Ah, there it is,” he said, shaking a finger at her, “Knew that was hidden there somewhere.”

Dani ducked her head as Mike twisted back around in his seat to start the engine. As they took off down the street, Dani risked a glance at Eddie out of the corner of her eye to see him already staring at her. When she caught his eyes, he spun his head away sharply. Dani rolled her eyes and nudged at his feet with her own. When he didn’t respond she did it again, knocking it hard enough that there was an audible thud. He sighed and gave her a look that she returned with a grin. He huffed and turned back to the window, but Dani could still see his smile in the slant of his profile.

When they arrived home, Eddie was the first to offer a murmured goodbye once they got out of the car. Seeing the peace offering for what it was, Dani hugged him tight and said, “I really am sorry.”

“I know,” he murmured, a dejected slump to his shoulders, before pulling away and starting towards the front door of his house where Mike was already shuffling inside.

With the O’Mara’s front door shut, Dani was off like a shot towards her own house. Unlocking the door with her keys and shoving her way into the empty house to rush upstairs to her room and pack.

Nan gave her a withering stare when she finally opened the door to Dani’s insistent knocking. Lungs just short of burning from speed walking to the white bungalow, Dani almost shrank back when Nan arched an eyebrow, but she stood her ground and gave Nan a hesitant grin.

Breathing out sharply through her nose in what bizarrely sounded like laugh, Nan shook her head and dryly said, “Took your sweet time, did you?”

“Um.”

Nan huffed, and jerked her head towards the house. “Well, get inside. I’ve got a pot brewing already,” she said, disappearing back into the house. “And take your bloody inhaler before you pass out on my floor.”

Dani did as she was told, shuffling inside and shutting the door behind her to peel off her shoes and coat. She could hear Nan moving around in the kitchen, porcelain cups and plates clinking as Dani quickly took a puff from her inhaler, feeling better already as she stuffed it back in her bag and followed the sounds.

Nan was already setting the table with three sets of cups and a blue tin that Dani knew held Nan’s coveted cookies, the old rickety table wobbling with every gentle movement due to its uneven legs. Dani dropped her bag in the corner of the kitchen as she scanned the rooms, not finding Jamie anywhere. “Where is she?” she asked quietly.

“Out back working on that mess of a bike,” Nan said.

Dani eagerly turned to make her way to the door leading to the backyard, but jerked to a stop when Nan held up the length of her cane to Dani’s stomach. She darted her eyes up towards Nan, blinking in surprise. Nan’s mouth thinned and she jerked her head to the table. “Sit,” she said in a tone of voice that brooked no room for argument.

Feeling her stomach sink, Dani spared a glance towards the back door, and followed Nan to the table, sitting opposite where she stood, stiff in her seat and her hands balled into fists in her lap. “Is she grounded?” Dani carefully asked.

“Aye, she is,” Nan said, busy making a single cup of tea and setting up a saucer of what Dani recognized were Jamie’s favorite cookies.

Dani waited for a moment before asking, “How long?”

“As long she needs to be,” Nan sharply replied.

Dani sank back into her seat, biting her lip, watching as Nan set the cup of tea and saucer of cookies onto a small tray before sliding over an empty cup towards Dani. “Make your tea,” she said, her eyes so piercing that Dani slowly sat back up and reached for the pot. Nan nodded once and gathered the tray in her hand. “Wait here,” she said, and started towards the back screen door.

Straining her ears towards the backyard, Dani made her tea as silently as she could, hearing the tap of Nan’s cane and the whooshing sound of the door being pulled open, letting in a cool draft. But when all she could hear from the pair outside were muffled voices, words indistinguishable and muted, Dani huffed. For a moment, she strongly considered sneaking closer, taking advantage of her socked feet sliding against the floor, but the fear of getting caught kept her rooted to her chair.

The muffled voices abruptly grew louder. “But that’s not fair!” Jamie whined.

“You don’t see me complaining about missing half a day’s paycheck, do you?” Nan retorted, “You sit out here, have your cuppa and biscuits, and keep your hands busy or so help me God.”

“But —”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, girl. It’s not the end of the world,” Nan said, and stomped back inside, closing the screen door shut with a hard thud.

Wincing in sympathy, Dani could easily picture the indignant glower on Jamie’s face, her cheeks flushed and her brows deeply furrowed.

Nan returned with a scowl, sitting in her seat opposite Dani and resting her cane on the table that wobbled slightly at the movement. Holding her cup in her hands, letting the heat warm her skin, Dani sat quietly as Nan made her own cup of tea, not knowing where to start. It wasn’t that Nan was that terribly difficult to talk to, with her shrewd eyes, endless tales of her time during both World Wars, the spite that kept her going, and a sixth sense for whenever Dani and Jamie somehow managed to find themselves doing something they shouldn't, but well — she was difficult to talk to.

Shoving the tin of cookies towards Dani, Nan gave her a sharp look and said, “Before you get ahead of yourself, I’ve already heard the sorry tale of it.”

Dani paused, and then reached into the tin for a Jammie Dodger. “So you know it’s not her fault?” Dani tried, blinking her eyes innocently, taking a small bite of the cookie, “That she was defending herself?”

Nan snorted, pointing at her with a cookie. “Don’t try that look with me,” she said, “It may work on Judy, but it sure as hell won’t work on me.” Dani ducked her head and took a morose sip of her tea. Nan continued, “I know she was defending the O’Mara boy. But she broke her promise. Got into another fight. Got into trouble. Sure, she helped the boy, but she got nothing for it except a week's worth of detention and the threat of suspension. Again.”

Dani shrank further back in her seat, her frown deepening as she let the words sink in and ate her cookie, and finally said, “But she did though. Get something out of it, that is.”

She looked up and caught Nan’s eye, expression unchanged save for the arch of an eyebrow. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. What she wanted to say — that Jamie proved how much she cared, that Jamie earned a wealth of loyalty that Dani witnessed bloom in Carson’s eyes that she hadn’t seen before — all of it seemed to lodge itself in the back of her throat. Instead, she needed Nan to know the truth of it, she needed Nan to see Jamie for who she was, the importance of it pressing on her chest.

“Jamie’s a good person,” Dani finally murmured.

Nan’s mouth pulled tight. “Well, of course she is,” she said sharply, “She may be a bleeding pain in my arse, but she’s a far sight better than her mother and her knob of a father.”

Dani blinked. Taken aback at not only Nan’s irritation, as if annoyed that Dani reminded her of something that should’ve been obvious, but at the mention of Jamie’s parents. Parents who Jamie had never once mentioned before besides that one time during Dani’s birthday. Always shrugging off questions and changing the subject when mention of them were brought up. It felt strange, discussing something so deeply personal about Jamie, something that Jamie seemed to avoid at all costs, when she was only a few feet away out of hearing range. Dani chanced a glance behind her to where the screen door would be, fearing that any second Jamie might crack and stomp back inside.

“Doesn’t talk much about them, does she?” Nan said, pulling back Dani’s attention. At Nan’s questioning stare, Dani quietly shook her head. Nan hummed, and then she too shook her head, leaning forward on the table, ignoring the way it shifted again, the pull of her stare so acute that Dani couldn’t blink or turn away.

“Now, you listen here. I’ll tell you exactly what I told her,” Nan said, ”She did a good thing, truly. But she went about it the wrong way, you see. There are more ways to go about things than with the end of your fist. I won’t tolerate it. Not in this house. Not again. Nothing good will ever come of it if she keeps it up. Do you understand?”

Dani was quiet for a long moment, absorbing the words, and then nodded.

“Good,” Nan said, leaning back and taking a sip of her tea. “Figured as much. Lord knows the girl was as wild as the wind blew back in England. But ever since coming here and meeting you, she’s been mellowing in her own way, so I suppose…I suppose I should offer you my thanks for your bit in it.”

Dani’s eyes widened, a hot flush warming her cheeks and spreading across her chest. It wasn’t often Nan handed out such free praise or thanks. A pleased thrill ran down Dani’s spine, and the corners of her mouth curled into a shy smile that she hid behind her cup as she finished her tea.

Tisking, Nan took a healthy bite of a cookie. “Don’t let that get to your head. And don’t expect me to ever say that again. You both still drive me mad,” she said, and after a moment, she sighed. “And I reckon you should be getting home now before it gets too dark. Last thing I need is your mother over here.”

“Oh,” Dani murmured, and then finding her courage, she added, “Could you — um. Could you not tell Jamie that I was here, then? I just — I don’t think she’d be happy that I was here, and she didn’t get to see me.”

Nan harrumphed. “Would serve her right,” she said with a displeased twist to her mouth.

“Please?”

Nan watched her for a long moment, expression blank save for a squared jaw, and said, “I’ll think about it.”

Dani’s mouth dared to pull into a grin. Nan huffed and stood, moving to gather her cup. Seeing this, Dani rushed out of her seat to help, gathering both her own and Nan’s cup to set in the sink.

“Buttering me up now, eh?” Nan said, a hand on her cane and the other on her hip. When Dani merely grinned and shrugged, Nan shook her head and then abruptly paused, her eyes scrutinizing. “Did you walk all the way here?”

Nodding, Dani ducked her eyes away from the intensity of Nan’s gaze. Nan hummed again, made a gesture towards the front door and simply said, “Get your things.”

While Nan disappeared somewhere deeper in the house where the bedrooms were, Dani gathered one last cookie, her bag, and slipped back on her shoes and coat. As she waited by the door, itching to see Jamie just once before she left, Nan reappeared wearing a thick coat. Dani offered her arm for Nan to hold as she pushed her feet into a pair of boots and spared one last glance towards the back of the house, letting Nan guide her outside.

The drive home was silent between the pair, the cabin quiet besides the rickety rumble of Nan’s truck and the radio on low playing some oldies station. When Nan pulled up to Dani’s house, the skyline pink and purple in the evening twilight, she turned to thank Nan only to find her scowling towards her home. Frowning, Dani followed Nan’s gaze to look it over, seeing nothing amiss. An empty driveway, a neat lawn, porch lights off.

“You got something to eat for dinner?” Nan abruptly asked.

Dani caught her eyes again and shrugged, vaguely recalling leftovers in the fridge. Peanut butter and bread in the cupboard. “I think so, yeah.”

“Best pop over to Judy’s then.”

Her eyes drifted away to the O’Mara’s house, recalling Eddie’s dejected face. A spark of hope lit inside her. Maybe there was still time to turn things around. Turning back to Nan, Dani nodded, and said, “Thank you for tea. And the ride home.”

Nan grunted in response, and just as Dani unbuckled her seat belt and moved to open the door, Nan’s voice stopped her. “Dani,” she said, her voice demanding attention. Dani paused as Nan gave her a look, knowing and firm. “Two days. Then you’ll see her.”

Dani nodded faintly. Two days. Two days without Jamie. An entire weekend. Almost a lifetime really. Not once in the past two years could Dani recall going more than a day without talking to or seeing Jamie. The idea of it felt almost like cutting off a limb.

“Two days,” Dani repeated, nodding again. She could manage that, she thought, resignation settling heavy on her shoulders. What could be worse than two days?

The moment Dani saw Jamie stepping foot back on the school grounds the following Monday morning, Dani nearly took her off her feet in a running hug. Jamie grunted upon impact, forced back a foot or two.

“Ow, fuck.”

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Dani said, starting to remove her arms from around Jamie’s shoulders, but Jamie just laughed, pulling her back into the hug.

“Missed you too,” Jamie said, a smile in her voice.

They stood there hugging for a good minute, giggling as they roughly rocked each other back and forth, as if they hadn’t seen each other for years instead of two days.

“Okay, okay, let me see,” Dani finally said, pulling away to rest her hands on Jamie’s shoulders, getting a good look at her face. Jamie sighed and rolled her eyes under the scrutiny, but sure enough, her face was a discolored mess. The skin around her left eye was bruised purple and red, looking tender to the touch, and her cheek and jaw were mottled a dark purple. Dani winced and said, “You look worse than you did last time.”

“What? You don’t think it brings out the color of my eyes?”

Dani snorted and shoved her by the shoulders. Jamie allowed herself to rock back with a good-natured grin.

“Least my nose didn’t break, thank god,” Jamie said, gently prodding the bridge of her nose, knuckles also discolored, then grimaced. “Though one wanker did manage to get a grip on my braid. Felt like my scalp was gonna rip off. Had a headache all weekend.”

Dani winced again, leaning closer to get a better look, and then gently poked at her bruised cheek. At the slight touch, Jamie jerked back as though Dani had struck her. “Ow! Christ, what’s wrong with you?” she said, though there was a teasing glint in her eyes.

Biting back a laugh, Dani poked her again, this time in the chest. “You don’t get to do that again,” she said, sobering.

“Or what? You gonna call the sheriff on me?”

“No,” Dani said hotly, “You just — you scared me. And I’m pretty sure Nan will lock you away forever next time, so please don’t.”

Jamie’s face blanched, and then shook her head, scowling. “That old nag has it out for me, I swear.”

“She cares for you.”

Jamie gave her a look. “That right?”

“Yes,” Dani said earnestly.

At that, Jamie’s shoulders dropped, her face softening for a moment and then she huffed. “Right. Or you were just that bored without me,” she said, smirking.

Dani rolled her eyes. The weekend hadn’t been a complete waste in truth. Eddie had brightened immeasurably when Dani returned with only the simple explanation that Jamie was grounded. He had even managed a sympathetic grin before leading her deeper into the house. It was like any other weekend spent at the O’Mara’s, except this time there was no Jamie with her silly commentary or teasing as Dani fumbled her way through some game involving fantasy creatures and dice. It almost felt like the days before Jamie and Nan had arrived at North Liberty, except now there had been a distinct large gap of the puzzle missing.

Before Dani could respond however, there was the sound of shoes slapping on concrete.

“Jamie!” was all the warning they both got before Jamie was once again nearly bowled over by the slim frame of Carson. Dani laughed when Jamie swore again, hugging Carson back and laughing, ruffling his hair.

When the bell eventually rang to signal the start of the school day, they made their way to class. There wasn’t much fanfare to Jamie’s return beyond the quiet stares and hushed whispers behind hands through the halls and during class. Jamie at this point had learned to ignore it all, sighing and rolling her eyes whenever she managed to find herself the centerpoint of gossip. Dani on the other hand had no issues with scowling back until those staring spun away. By the time lunch rolled around and they were settling in their seats in the lunchroom, Dani was in the middle of pinning a smirking Jackie with a hard stare when Carson slid next to Jamie with a large tupperware in hand.

Jamie snorted. “Don’t tell me you brought an entire meal with you for lunch,” she said, pulling back Dani’s attention.

Shyly shaking his head, Carson pushed the container towards Jamie. “It’s for you.”

Jamie blinked. “For me?”

Nodding, Carson grinned and said, “Open it!”

A look of uncertainty crossed Jamie’s face. She caught Dani’s eyes, quirking an eyebrow, but Dani just shrugged in response, at a loss herself. Shaking her head, Jamie finally opened the container and her eyes went wide at the sight of a pile of chocolate chip cookies and a big ziploc bag of puppy chow packed inside.

“Holy shit,” Jamie said. “This all for me?”

Biting into his sandwich, Carson nodded and grinned around a mouthful of food. Chuckling, Jamie immediately snatched up a cookie and took a bite. Dani laughed, and reached forward for one of her own.

Jamie swiped at her hand. “Ah, haven’t you heard? These are mine,” Jamie said. Eddie snorted into his own lunch as Dani scoffed, pulling her hand back. “What? You telling me you don’t have your own stash somewhere at home?”

“No,” Dani glowered, her mouth threatening to pull into a smile.

“We made them only for you,” Carson said.

Jamie paused, frowning. “Why?”

Growing shy again, Carson shrugged. “When mom heard what happened, she thought it would be nice if we made you some cookies.”

A grin slowly grew on Jamie’s face. “You helped make these?” she asked, gesturing with the half bitten cookie in hand. At Carson’s slow nod, her grin grew wide and she stuffed the rest of the cookie in her mouth, “Think you’ve found your future calling.”

Carson brightened, shooting upright, but then pulled his lips between his teeth, growing visibly anxious. “I’m sorry you got in trouble.”

Jamie’s chewing slowed. “Don’t worry about it, mate,” she said, shrugging.

Carson’s face twisted. “But, you got beat up! And detention! And grounded! And -!” he paused, pointing at Dani “ — Dani was sad you weren’t with us for the sleepover!”

Pausing, Eddie blinked at Dani. “You were?”

Warmth spread across Dani’s cheeks as all eyes turned towards her. She shrugged helplessly under their stares.

“Well, duh,” Carson said, like it should’ve been obvious. Then he sobered again, remorse in his eyes, “But yeah, I’m — I’m sorry.”

Jamie sighed, and was silent for a long moment before meeting Carson’s eyes. “Well...have any of them bugged you since? Looked at you funny at all?” Slowly, Carson shook his head. Jamie grinned softly in response and shrugged. “Then it was worth it.”

At that, Carson’s shoulders dropped from where they were bunched to his ears, and he matched Jamie’s grin when she ruffled his hair. Even as she did so, she slid the container closer to Dani, who happily took a cookie.

“Ed?” Jamie said, smirking as she shook the container at Eddie. “Biscuit for your clearly shattered nerves last week?”

He rolled his eyes. “Stop calling me that,” he mumbled for what seemed the millionth time, but eventually grinned and took a cookie, “Thanks.”

The rest of the school day passed by in a blur, happy that Jamie was back, happy that things were back to normal.

After waiting out Jamie’s detention, they all exited the school together where Jamie jostled Carson with a wide grin and egged him on into a race towards the car. Before either of them could start a proper countdown, Jamie shoved her books into Dani’s arms and took off like a shot, laughing madly.

“Hey! That’s cheating!” Carson shouted, shoving his own books in Eddie’s arms and ran off after her.

Dani smiled broadly and shook her head as she watched them go, juggling the books in hand. Jamie, already far ahead with her speed and jumpstart, twisted her head around to shout something back at Carson, and abruptly tripped over her own feet in the slick frozen grass and went tumbling across the ground. Dani somehow managed to wince and laugh at the same time as Carson sped past Jamie’s sprawling form, pointing and cackling before tripping himself, going flying on the grass. Even Eddie managed to double over laughing with Dani as they reached the prone pair.

When Jamie hitched along for the ride home, Mike, who had been patiently waiting with a magazine in the car, twisted in his seat to give Jamie a grin. “Nice shiner, bud. Welcome back.”

Jamie’s shoulders straightened proudly. When Dani snorted and rolled her eyes, Jamie nudged her in the ribs, and Dani quickly nudged her back, the pair grinning wide.

But when they arrived at the O’Mara household, a strange tension coiled at Jamie’s shoulders when they stepped inside and slipped off their shoes. Dani frowned curiously at her and the tightness of her mouth and the hard grip she had on her school books that were held together by an old brown belt, an unusual apprehension about her. When they all wandered to the kitchen where Judy already set up shop, chopping at vegetables, Jamie stood even more upright.

“Oh, there she is!” Judy said, brightening into a smile when she caught sight of them. She left her kitchen knife on the counter and made a beeline towards Jamie. “All right, come here. Let me take a look.”

At the sound of the boys snickering, Jamie’s eyes went wide as Judy carefully framed her face with her hands, gently tilting her head side to side, Judy’s face one of concentration as she studied Jamie’s bruises. “Hmm, just as I thought,” Judy said, nodding decisively and smiled wide, resting her hands on Jamie’s shoulders. “A raging case of moxie and a heart of gold.”

Underneath the bruises, Jamie’s face went red as she blinked, the tension easing from her shoulders. Judy merely laughed, and pulled her into a hug, murmuring something that Dani couldn’t hear. Jamie stood stiff before slowly returning the hug, her arms held loose and awkward.

When Judy finally pulled away, Jamie ducked her head and murmured, “Um. Thank you, Mrs. O’Mara.” She raised her head, meeting Judy’s eyes, only to drop her gaze once more. “And for the biscuits, too.”

“I should be thanking you. Carson hasn’t stopped talking about it.”

Carson sputtered, an arm elbow deep in a bag of chips he had pulled out from a cupboard. “No, I haven’t!”

Eddie laughed, making a grab for the bag, but Carson snatched it away just in time with a scowl.

Judy hummed, unconvinced, and turned to give Dani a knowing grin. “He even mentioned what you did, Danielle,” she said, “What you did for Jamie when she first got here.” At the mention of that old memory, of stepping between Jamie and a group of bullies before they were ever friends, Dani blushed hotly, catching Jamie’s eyes as she smirked at Dani. “So, I figured, I’d make us all something special today, just for my two brave girls.”

Jamie blinked again, seemingly frozen as Dani lit up and asked, “Lasagna?”

“Got it in one,” Judy grinned, but then sobered as she looked back at Jamie, “Just please, promise me no more fights? The twins give me enough stress as it is. Not just for the sake of my own heart, but the health of your grandmother’s?”

Jamie’s mouth twisted. “Did Nan talk to you?”

“She may have mentioned it.” Judy’s face gave away nothing.

Jamie’s brows knitted into a slight resigned frown, and slowly she nodded. Pleased, Judy grinned again and gently nudged Jamie towards Dani with a pat to her back. “You kids go wash up and do your schoolwork, and then maybe you could come help me put the lasagna together. And — “ she sighed exasperatedly, returning to the counter “ — boys, put that away before you ruin your appetite.”

Carson nodded eagerly as Eddie groaned, his mouth full of chips, rolling the bag up and stuffing it carelessly back into the cupboard before they both shuffled out of the kitchen. Dani snorted, shaking her head after them, and turned to see Jamie stepping quietly towards her, an odd look on her face.

When Dani led her out of the kitchen, Jamie turned to her, her eyes filled with quiet bewilderment, and slowly asked, “What just happened?”

Dani smiled faintly, recognizing the look in Jamie’s eyes, one that Dani occasionally wore herself after long days in the O’Mara household. If there were words for it, an explanation to it all, then Dani couldn’t even begin to name or explain it, so she shrugged helplessly, grinning when Jamie rolled her eyes.

Later, as Eddie and Jamie were finishing the last of their math homework at the kitchen table, and Carson and Dani helped Judy layer massive baking pans with lasagna noodles, sauce, and various fillings, they heard the sound of the front door opening and the twins crashing in.

“Is she here?” one of them called.

“She better be here!”

Judy pointed. “She’s here.”

Tommy and David rushed into the kitchen, and made a beeline towards Jamie.

“Oh, Christ,” Jamie groaned, already tensing her shoulders.

Judy tisked. “Language.”

Dani laughed, a warmth settling over her as she watched the twins accost Jamie, jostling her shoulders as they proudly remarked at her bruises, comparing them to their own old fighting tokens, and demanded she tell her side of the tale. Jamie tried shoving them off, grumbling and elbowing them in the ribs, but couldn't hide her wide smile.

On the day after the first snowfall of the year, Jamie insisted they go for a walk.

"Don't you have snow in England?" Dani asked.

They were sitting on the back porch of Jamie's house, jamming their feet into boots. Dani was dressed in a pink puffy jacket and swaddled up with a hat and scarf. Meanwhile Jamie had haphazardly tossed on a baggy jacket over her woollen sweater with some ragged fingerless gloves, as if that ensemble would be enough protection from the cold. Years of experience of Iowa winters told Dani that would not be the case.

"Yeah, but not like -" Jamie gestured with one of her boots towards the backyard, "- this."

The blanket of snow was deep and utterly untouched, extending beyond the treeline. The front lawn was another matter entirely. Jamie had spent the previous day shovelling a path from the sidewalk to the front steps until she was pink in the face from exertion, all while Nan watched with a waiting cup of tea in hand as Jamie's reward.

Dani squinted across the glare of sunlight that glittered across the white bank of fresh snowfall. "Not sure why this is so impressive," she said. "It happens every year, and just makes it difficult to walk everywhere."

"You love it," Jamie said.

Dani made a face. "I don’t. It's so cold. And I hate slipping on the sidewalks."

"Yeah, but it means the outdoor track days are cancelled for gym class."

At that, Dani paused. "Well. Yeah. Okay. I do like that."

"Told you." Jamie grinned and Dani rolled her eyes.

Jamie stamped her heel into the final boot, and stood, holding her hands out to Dani, who grabbed hold and allowed herself to be hauled to her feet. Jamie tugged her upright with such force, that Dani — eyes wide — lost her balance, and they went toppling over backwards off the porch into the snow with a chorus of cries and laughter and a spray of white all round.

Dani shuffled into a crouch, Jamie's body warm beneath her and shaking with laughter. "You did that on purpose!"

"I didn't! I swear!" Jamie said, and her smile was so broad it beamed almost as brightly as the sun's reflection. "This, I'm doing on purpose though."

Dani screwed up her face in confusion. "What -?"

In answer, Jamie reached to either side, grabbed two handfuls of snow, and shoved them into Dani's face and neck. A burst of icy water melted down the gap in Dani's scarf, and she shrieked, rolling off Jamie and further into the bank, limbs flailing in her attempts to escape. If this had been the twins, they would have pounced, turning it into a fight to test the trammels of time. Instead, Jamie cackled with laughter and scrambled to her feet, already bounding off towards the treeline with unwieldy steps.

"C'mon!" she shouted over her shoulder.

Shaking herself off, Dani pushed herself upright and started after her, ire singing in her teeth. She slipped and caught herself and stumbled along in Jamie’s wake. Jamie's footsteps were less dainty little impressions and more great gouges taken out of the snow, as though two tracks had been dragged from the porch and off to the trees. Jamie waited for her to catch up beneath the oak from which they had hung a tire swing the two years before. Her dark hair was struck through with snow as if it were a net of clustered stars, and her eyes sparkled. Whatever vengeance Dani had been planning to exact withered and died at the root when Jamie looked at her like that.

"Where are we going?" Dani asked.

Jamie shrugged and turned, stomping away with Dani at her side. "Dunno. Wherever we like. Don't suppose that old tire dump is still a few miles that way?"

"Probably," said Dani. "Why?"

"It's the closest thing to a hill in these parts. I was thinking if it's covered in snow, we might be able to slide down it."

The logic was sound, so Dani nodded. "All right. Are there lots of hills where you're from?"

They stepped up and onto the slightly elevated ground which indicated the train tracks. When Jamie's footing slipped, Dani grabbed hold of her arm to keep her from face-planting into the snow.

"Cheers," Jamie said, but she did not let go of Dani's hand, instead weaving their fingers together and tugging Dani straight down the abandoned track line. "Some hills, yeah. Bigger than here, by far. No mountains though. I'd love to see some honest mountains."

"We can go sometime. You know -" Dani swung their arms back and forth in an exaggerated arc. "When we learn to drive. Maybe before college."

Jamie's brow furrowed. "College? That's not old enough, is it?"

"Yeah, it is. I want to go to one out of state. Somewhere -" Dani hesitated to even voice the idea, but here, alone with Jamie, a pale sky overhead and a pale earth stretching out before her for miles in every direction, she felt brave enough to admit it. "Somewhere not here."

Jamie's gloves were scratchy against her fingers. "You mean university?" she snorted. "Christ. Never imagined myself going to one of those."

"Well, why not?" Dani asked. "Doesn't your Nan want you to go?"

"Not sure if she could afford it even if she did," said Jamie dryly. "But, nah. Not for me. After this, I'm done. Can you imagine me sitting around reading books and writing papers all day? What a laugh."

Jamie chuckled and shook her head, and a fine dusting of snow was knocked loose from the shoulders of her jacket. Dani didn't join her. She contemplated the idea — finishing school here, running off somewhere else, anywhere else, incurring the wrath of her mother, who had always insisted Danielle would go to university — and found the very notion thrilling in a way that made her feel slightly ill. She swallowed, and Jamie squeezed her hand before letting go.

The train tracks were lifted just enough that they poked up through the snow, narrow twin mounds that ran for miles and miles and ended at an old shunt that was still in operation beyond the next town's fertilizer plant. Jamie stood atop one track and walked the steel. The toe of her boots brushed away any snow atop it as she went. She held her arms outstretched to balance herself, and Dani stayed within reach so that Jamie could grab onto her shoulder should she need to regain her balance.

"What do you want to do?" Dani asked.

"Don't know. Don't care," Jamie answered. "I'll figure it out. One day at a time. What about you?"

Dani cast her mind back. She considered the question carefully. Jamie's outstretched hand tapped her on the shoulder, not out of a request for her to answer, but only because Jamie was see-sawing her arms back and forth to keep her footing without needing to hop off the track.

Eventually, Dani said, "Teach kids, maybe."

Jamie snorted, and a plume of white left her mouth like a cloud. "What? Like Mary Poppins?"

Dani could feel her own cheeks burn, and knew she must have been as pink as her puffy jacket. "No," she said primly. "Like Miss Blythe."

Miss Blythe, their new homeroom teacher this year, was young and smart and pretty. She smiled a lot, and she always wore nice skirts and flowing blouses. She remembered everyone's names, and her hair was shiny and dark when she bowed her head at her desk to read their assignments. Dani couldn't think of anyone she would like to resemble so much as Miss Blythe.

Jamie shot her a grin. "You like her, don't you?"

"Of course, I like her," said Dani. “I think she’s wonderful.”

"Not like that. You like like her."

If Dani's cheeks had been flushed before, it was nothing to the way heat flooded her face now. "I -! I do not!"

"Mhmm," said Jamie, and her grin had graduated into a fully fledged smirk now. "Sure."

Dani spluttered indignantly. "That’s not -! I don't -! Well, she's very pretty, but that's hardly -! I just think she's nice. And she always treats everyone fairly. And she - she makes you feel included, and she's so good at - Stop laughing! Jamie!"

"Aw! Poor Poppins with a crush on teacher!" Jamie laughed. "Don't let Ed hear about that. He'll be jealous."

With a huff, Dani shoved at Jamie's shoulder, and Jamie staggered off into the snow — arms pinwheeling — but didn't fall down. Jamie snickered good-naturedly and stepped back into place atop the rail to continue balancing her way down the track. "You'd make a good teacher."

Dani sucked in a lungful of icy air so fast it made her chest burn. She glanced up at Jamie, who was concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. "You think so?"

"Yup," said Jamie, and for all her earlier teasing her voice now was sure and firm. She did not expand; she had only certainty. Then she added with an exaggerated shiver, "Wish we'd brought a thermos with a cuppa. Bloody freezing out here."

"I told you to bring Nan's extra scarf."

Jamie pulled a grotesque face as though she'd bitten into something rotten. "It smells like mothballs."

"Better that than be cold."

"Rather be cold than smell like pure shite."

Shaking her head, Dani reached up and unwound her own white scarf. She zipped up her jacket the rest of the way to accommodate the cold, and held the scarf out to Jamie. "Here."

Jamie blinked down at her. She lowered her arms and her steps slowed. "Really," she said. "I'm fine. Don't worry about me."

"Just take the scarf, dummy," said Dani, shaking it at her so that one of the tasselled ends trailed from her fist.

"You get cold easier than me."

"True," Dani said. "But my jacket is puffier and I also have my hat."

Reluctantly, Jamie took the scarf with a mumbled, "Thanks."

"You're welcome," Dani replied and began to continue on her way.

Jamie did not immediately follow. Confused, Dani turned around after a few steps to find Jamie still staring down at the scarf with an odd expression on her face, as though she didn't quite know what to do with it.

"Do you need help?" Dani asked. "Is your collarbone okay?"

At that Jamie gave a derisive snort. "Collarbone's fine. That was ages ago, anyway."

Dani frowned. She knew Jamie was stubborn. And she knew that some sub-surface injuries could ache for years. Nan was always cursing about her knee in the cold weather, after all. She herself had never broken a bone in all twelve and a half years of her life, and had only the experiences of others to go by.

Before she could say anything else though, Jamie had begun walking along the track again, scarf stretched between her hands. “It’s just -” she lifted it round her neck “- still warm. Wasn’t really expecting -”

It happened in an instant. One moment, Jamie was balancing her way across the rail track. The next, she had slipped headlong and was writhing on the ground, gloved hands clutching her face. Dani’s eyes went wide. A splash of red sliced all across the snow.

“Fuck!” Jamie’s shout was muffled into her palms. “Fuck!”

“Jamie!”

Stumbling forward, Dani rushed to her side. As gently as she could, she pulled Jamie’s hands away from her face. The honed and frosted edge of the old railway track had split a broad line along Jamie’s chin and lower lip, so that the skin there had burst at the seams like the flesh of an overripe fruit. Blood dripped steadily from Jamie’s chin and the line of her jaw, splattering the ivory-coloured scarf around her neck with wine-dark splotches.

“Are you all right?” Dani asked, trembling hands still holding Jamie by the wrists.

Jamie’s eyes were squeezed shut. She nodded. “Yeah. Absolutely peachy. Shit -!” Her tongue darted out and she hissed when the tip of it touched the gash in her lip.

“Here.” Dani grabbed the ends of the scarf and pressed them tightly against the wound, stemming the flow of blood.

Jamie tried to pull away. “Your scarf - It’ll get all -”

“Who cares about the scarf?” Dani said, and she wound the scarf in such a way that it could act as makeshift gauze. Even after it was tied and tethered in place, her fingers lingered against the warm skin of Jamie’s neck. She brushed her thumbs against the bluffs of Jamie’s cheeks, rubbing away a smatter of blood there. “Let’s get you home. You’ll probably need to see a doctor and get stitches.”

Jamie’s eyes were wide and she was staring up at her. The scarf bobbed as she opened and closed her mouth, but said nothing. Then she winced. “Yeah. Yeah, all right.”

Dropping her hand to Jamie’s shoulder, Dani helped her up and guided her around so they could slowly make their way back to the house. Jamie shivered, and Dani draped her arm across her shoulders to huddle her closer, so that their hips jostled when they walked. When Jamie made a soft noise muffled by the scarf, Dani stole a glance at her profile.

“Does it hurt a lot?” she asked.

Jamie shook her head. Then after a pause she nodded in defeat. She groaned faintly. “Nan’s gonna kill me," she mumbled. "Again.”

"Danielle, slow down!"

Reluctantly Dani did as asked, her boots skidding to a walk. The street between Dani's house and the O'Mara residence was deep with snow. Christmas morning was crisp, the sky a blue so bright it almost hurt to look at. Her breath shivered on the air, and her mother's fingers were bright with the spot of an ember from a lit cigarette. Karen had a hastily wrapped present beneath one arm, while Dani carried the rest, so that she crinkled with foil paper and excitement with every step.

Dani reached the front door first and bounced on the balls of her feet until her mother arrived. Sighing, her mother flicked the cigarette into a bank of snow, where it hissed and vanished in a thread of smoke. Judy was the only person Dani knew who observed a strict ‘no smoking indoors’ policy. Not due to any health benefits, but because she complained that cigarette smoke stained the wallpaper yellow. The moment Karen stood beside her on the top step, Dani reached out to ring the doorbell only for her mother to stop her with a hand on Dani's cheek.

"Look at you. What a mess," her mother muttered, licking the pad of her thumb and using it to rub at a spot of syrup on Dani's cheek, all pink from the cold.

"Mom," Dani whined, but when Karen gave her a look she went quiet. Her nose scrunched up and she closed one eye until Karen deemed her suitable for company.

"I told you to wash your face before we left," Karen said. "Obviously I wasn't worth listening to."

"Sorry," Dani mumbled.

Lowering her hand, Karen made an abrupt gesture towards the door. Dani did not wait a second longer to push the doorbell. She could hear the two-toned chime inside followed by the sound of thudding footsteps, and then Eddie wrenched open the door. His face broke into a beaming smile when he saw who it was.

"You made it!"

"Merry Christmas," Dani said, returning his smile.

"Come on. Let's get these under the tree." Eddie reached out to take some of the presents, but froze when Karen cleared her throat pointedly. "Uh - I mean -" he pushed his glasses further up his nose and shuffled his feet. "Merry Christmas, Mrs. Clayton. Won't you please come inside? My mom and dad are in the kitchen making coffee."

"Thank you," said Karen and as she stepped past him into the house, she pressed the present she was carrying into his hands.

They waited awkwardly for her to take off her boots and leave them on the towel stretched out in the foyer for just that purpose. Only when she had left did Eddie turn back to Dani, "Bad morning?" he asked.

Dani shrugged. "Not really. Just normal."

"Ah.” Eddie nodded in solemn understanding, then gave her a smile. “Okay. Here let me take those." He freed her arms of presents so Dani could take off her own boots and coat and scarf. Then he shut the door with his foot and nodded towards the living room beyond. "Let's go."

Every inch of the living room had been transformed by the addition of Christmas decorations strewn about — wreaths and holly, pine cones and tinsel, a tree that scraped the ceiling and a nativity set on the mantelpiece over the crackling fireplace. Tommy and David were already bickering over a card game, while Carson looked on, whining about not being dealt a hand.

“C’mon,” he said. “I wanna play, too!”

“You can’t,” said Tommy, frowning down at his hand.

“But it’s better with more people! Why is it you two always do stuff alone!”

David drew a card and shrugged, sharing a secret grin with Tommy. “It’s a twin thing,” he said.

The moment Carson saw that Dani had entered the room however, his eyes lit up and he abandoned his older brothers.

“Hi!” he said, rushing forward. “Need help with those?”

Without waiting for an answer, he took what remained of the presents still in Dani’s hands and went with Eddie to place them under the tree with the mound of other presents already assembled there. Dani could see him looking over the presents she had brought for any sign of names, and when he found his own he tossed down the others in favor of shaking the box to determine its contents.

“Knock it off!” Eddie swatted the back of Carson’s head and took the present from him.

“Hey! That’s mine!”

Carson tried to snatch the present back, but Eddie held it high above his head where Carson couldn’t reach.

“Mom!” Carson called out towards the kitchen. “Eddie took my present!”

“Edmund, give Carson back his present!” Judy’s voice called from the other room over the murmur of adults sequestering themselves away for as long as possible before they had to face the onslaught of kids with too much sugar in their systems for ten in the morning.

Rolling his eyes, Eddie shoved the box into Carson’s chest, so that Carson grunted and had to take a step back. “Whatever,” Eddie said. “Just don’t open it before everyone else gets here.”

"Who else is coming?" Carson asked. He turned the box over a few more times and shook it, only to give up and put it beneath the tree.

"Jamie and Nan," Dani said.

"Oh! Great!" said Carson. "More presents!"

Dani glanced around towards Tommy and David, but the twins were engrossed in a way that she knew meant they wouldn't be open to intruders — especially not ones they thought were young and annoying. So, she instead said, "Monopoly?"

Eddie scratched at the side of his head, dark curls mussed beneath his fingers. "Kind of a long game to start. Don't you think?"

"Well -" said Dani, but Carson had already darted towards a wooden chest that doubled as a coffee table, opening it to pull out the Monopoly board.

"I get to be the dog!" Carson called out, yanking open the box's lid and setting up the board on the floor before the Christmas tree.

Eddie sighed, but Dani just smiled at him. She grabbed his arm and hauled him over to play a game while they waited. Dani picked the unassuming little iron token, and led the other two on a merry chase around the board. Fake paper money slowly flowed onto her side of the board, neatly tucked away in piles of descending order, whilst Eddie and Carson frowned and puzzled over how she managed it.

"You're cheating," Eddie said with narrowed eyes behind his round spectacles. "I don't know how, but you're cheating."

Dani held out her hand primly towards Carson, who was glum as he counted out bills and pressed them into her waiting palm. "I am not cheating," she said. "Carson, you've stiffed me twenty dollars."

Carson screwed up his face and stuck his tongue out at her, but handed over the final twenty that he'd slipped beneath his leg in the hopes that she wouldn't notice.

"Thank you," she said in a light sing-song tone that made Carson harrumph wordlessly in reply.

Eddie craned his neck and looked over his shoulder at the clock hanging on the wall. "Where are they?"

Dani glanced up from where she was dividing up her cash into their respective piles. An hour had come and gone, and still no sign of the others. As if summoned, there was a knock at the door.

"Thank god," Carson muttered, darting to his feet and scampering towards the door. "Game's over. Dani cheated."

"I didn't cheat!" she called after him, exasperated.

But Carson was already pulling open the door, and she could hear his voice floating into the living room from down the hall. "Hi, Jamie! Hi Mrs. Heron! You're late!"

"Don't just say that!" Eddie shouted. Then he shook his head and began helping Dani clean up the board. "Still don't know how you managed to get all those hotels."

"Maybe if you're nice to me, I'll tell you," Dani teased.

Going stock still, Eddie blinked at her.

"What?" Dani asked slowly.

The odd expression on his face washed away like yesterday's sunlight, and he shook his head with a huff of nervous laughter. “Nothing.”

Briefly puzzled, she watched him place the lid back over the box and put the game away. There was movement at the edges of her vision, and when Dani looked up it was to find Nan and Jamie removing their coats and hanging them on hooks that lined the wall by the door. Jamie was brushing snow from her long hair, brow furrowed, while her other hand was balancing gifts that were expertly wrapped, not a crease or fold out of place. The gash slicing through her chin and lower lip had healed somewhat since their last fiasco — the stitches removed — but the skin around it stretched and pulled, looking reddened and angry.

Dani waved and Jamie’s expression brightened. Jamie started towards her, only for Nan to reach out and haul her back by the scruff of her neck.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Nan said. “Shoes off. And don’t roll your eyes at me.”

With an extra exaggerated roll of her eyes for good measure, Jamie leaned over to undo her laces and rid herself of her snow-dusted boots.

Judy emerged from the kitchen. "Oh, Ruth! I'm so glad you could make it! Do you want coffee?"

Nan shook her head and began limping in her direction. "No, thank you, Judy. Just some boiled water for me should do the trick." As she went, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a ziploc bag filled with tea bags.

Judy smiled. "Sure thing. I'll stick a mug of water in the microwave for you."

Judy disappeared back into the kitchen, and Nan's expression was completely horrified. Dani watched this interaction and bit her lip to keep from laughing. Nan noticed and glowered. "Think that's funny, do you?"

Dani shook her head furiously. "No, ma'am. It's just — they don't have a kettle."

Nan sighed. "Uncivilized country." And, muttering to herself, she retreated into the kitchen after Judy to meet her fate.

Footsteps padded across the carpet and Jamie approached. "Can I put these down?" she asked, cradling a small tower of packages.

"Yeah, of course," said Eddie, darting up to help.

"Sorry we're late," Jamie said as they arranged the last of the presents beneath the tree. "Nan's fussy about wrapping. Likes everything to be perfect."

"They look really nice," Dani assured her, admiring the pristine packaging with a tilt of her head.

Jamie snorted. "Made me do that one three times. And then I had to clean up everything before we left."

"Mom!" Carson yelled, running so fast down the hall towards the kitchen that he skidded across the wooden flooring in a blur. "Mom! Everyone's here! Can we open presents now? Please?"

Jamie arched an eyebrow after him. "He always this mental during the holidays?" she asked.

"Yes," said both Dani and Eddie in unison.

"Don't see what all the fuss is about, personally."

"Well," said Eddie, drawling out the word in a thoughtful manner, "Getting new stuff is always nice."

At that, Jamie seemed a bit dubious. She scratched contemplatively at the raised pink tissue of her chin until Dani reached out to still her hand.

"You shouldn't scratch," Dani said.

Curling her fingers into a fist, Jamie dropped her own hand into her lap, looking churlish. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Still itches, though." And then her eyes skimmed over Dani’s outfit, blinking, as though now just noticing it. “Why do you look like you just jumped out of one of your mum’s catalogues?”

“Because I did,” Dani said, fighting back a sigh. “Or well, the dress did. Mom got it for me for Christmas.”

Dani glanced down at the outfit in question, a long sleeved dark green dress with a red floral pattern by the hem and a lace neckline. It was a dress that felt more suited to warmer weather, the thin material doing next to nothing to help keep Dani warm, regardless of the white tights she wore or how warm Judy kept the house. What Dani didn’t mention was that while it wasn’t a terrible dress, she’d had a completely different outfit in mind this morning, but when she had pulled out the dress from its box, her mom had held it up to the length of Dani with such a wide pleased smile and demanded that Dani wear it in a tone the brooked no room for argument.

Jamie scanned over the dress again, humming in contemplation, and shrugged. “Looks nice, actually,” she said, catching Dani’s eyes and giving her a grin.

Before Dani could respond, her cheeks warm, the kitchen door opened and the parents began to filter out into the living room. The Christmas tree sparkled, casting a warm glow against Jamie's profile as she craned her neck to watch. Dani barely registered everyone else, and when Jamie turned to find her staring, Dani smiled.

With a befuddled smile of her own, Jamie asked, "What?"

Dani shrugged. "It's just nice to have you over."

"I come over here all the time."

"Yeah, but this is different."

"If you say so."

The couches and armchairs were quickly taken up by adults, while anyone under the age of eighteen was forced to continue sitting on the floor. Nan lowered herself into a chair with care, maneuvering her cup of tea and her cane. Karen perched herself idly on the arm of the couch right beside Judy, sipping on a cup of coffee. Mike sat by his wife, looking tired but content in his Argyle patterned sweater vest and matching socks.

"All right -" Judy started.

"Me first!" Carson blurted out, diving for the nearest present with his name on it.

With a grin and a rueful shake of her head, Judy motioned towards Eddie and Dani. “Just start passing everything around, won’t you?”

Nodding, Dani and Eddie reached for the presents. Dani read out the name scrawled across the wrapping paper and handed it over to Mike, who had to lean half out of the sofa to take it with a smile and a murmured, "Thanks." Carson was already ripping the paper off of a racing kit set for toy cars, but Dani set one of her own presents aside until everyone else had one in their hands. She kept her eyes on Jamie sitting next to her, as Jamie turned over a lumpy package that Dani had wrapped just earlier that morning. The expression on Jamie's face was both odd and awed, as if she couldn't quite believe that she had received presents at all. Every now and then she would dart her eyes towards Nan like she was checking to see that she was even allowed to do this, to be here, surrounded by people who liked her enough to buy her gifts.

Dani nudged Jamie's elbow with her own. "Open it," she said.

Jamie did not immediately do so. She turned the package over once more before carefully running her thumb beneath a fold in the wrapping, tearing through a scrap of tape holding the pieces together. Dani opened the present from Jamie at the same time — which was far better wrapped than her own — and the two of them blinked at each other in startled confusion when they each revealed a scarf.

"I got you one because I ruined yours," Jamie said.

"Well, I got you one because you don't have one," said Dani.

They held each other's gazes for a beat longer, until they cracked and snorted with laughter.

"Okay," Jamie said with a grin. "We're dumb."

"Funny, though," Dani replied.

Jamie shook her head, but her smile was broad as she leaned across Dani to reach for another present beneath the tree. "Hey, Ed," she said, tossing the present towards him. "This one's for you."

Eddie caught the gift. "Thanks. I wonder what it could be," he said dryly, weighing the package that was so clearly in the shape of a baseball mitt it would be impossible to mistake.

"A cricket bat, maybe," Jamie said.

Eddie made a face at her, but when he opened the gift to reveal a brand new mitt, his voice was warm when he said, "My old one is falling apart. Thanks, Jamie."

"Thank Nan. I can't afford shit."

"Language!" Nan barked, while at the same time Judy scolded, "Jamie Taylor!"

Jamie ducked her head and grimaced, reaching for another gift and handing it off to one of the twins. "Whoops," she muttered under her breath, not sounding sorry at all.

Dani shook her head but smiled. One by one the gifts were parceled out until Judy's living room floor was a mess of shredded wrapping paper and opened boxes spilling out with packing peanuts and bubble wrap. David and Tommy fought over who got to play the Mattel Electronics Football Game first. Carson had encloistered himself in a corner nearest the fireplace and was busy setting up his racing kit set with a single-minded focus, tongue between his teeth. Dani smiled at a jar labelled 'Travel Fund' that she had received from Jamie in a rucksack that already had a US flag patch sewn onto the red canvas fabric with space left for other future flags. And all of them had received a signature sweater from Judy, which was ugly beyond compare and which made Karen's face pucker up when Dani immediately pulled it on over her dress.

"Do they have to look like that?" Karen asked.

"What?" said Judy with a guileless shrug. "They're warm!"

Sighing, Karen stood and started towards the kitchen. "I'll put on another pot of coffee."

"Ruth, do you want another cup of boiling water for your tea?" Judy asked.

Nan's answering smile looked forced. "Cheers, but I'll be right."

Most of the presents had now been opened. Mike had pulled on a new pair of socks — the same gift he received every year, but which he always seemed pleased — and Eddie was fiddling with a pair of walkie talkies, trying to figure out how they worked.

"Hey, dad?" he asked. "Do we have any batteries?"

"Garage," Mike said, and Eddie went off in search, taking the walkie talkie set with him.

"Bring back some double As for me, too!" Jamie called after him. She waved with the pocket transistor radio that she'd been given by Judy and Mike, and which hadn't left her lap since she had first opened it with wide eyes.

"Yeah, sure," answered Eddie.

Dani ducked down to reach the last of the gifts hidden beneath the low-slung branches, dragging them out into the light. "This one's for -" she tilted her head and twisted the package around. "- Jamie. From Nan."

Jamie opened the gift and rolled her eyes. "A new pair of gardening gloves," she said in a deadpan voice, holding up the leather gloves. "Joy of joys."

"Ones that fit this time," said Nan, nodding. "And if you lose this pair like you did the last, you'll be paying for the next yourself."

Jamie grumbled something under her breath.

Nan sniffed. "In my day, we were thankful if a bomb didn't drop on us during Christmas."

"Oh my god. The Blitz is over, Nan. Give it a rest," Jamie groaned, but dutifully set the gloves aside atop her transistor radio.

From the couch, Judy gestured towards one of the remaining presents with the toe of her slipper. "Danielle, there's another one there for you that you missed."

"Oh." Dani turned it over to see that it was labelled for her from the O'Maras. While she opened it, beside her Jamie began pulling on every article of clothing she had received as a gift — sweater, scarf, and garden gloves — until she was wrapped up and ready to brave the elements at the drop of a hat. Dani grinned at her, but then blinked in surprise at the box beneath the wrapping paper portraying a new polaroid camera.

"Oh, wow," she breathed.

Hastily, Dani pushed aside the wrapping paper and pulled open the box. The camera was small enough to fit in both her hands. She fiddled with it, reading the instructions so she could point the camera and squint into the eyepiece at Jamie. Through the lens, Jamie's figure was slightly distorted. Jamie turned, saw the camera aimed in her direction, and waved. Dani pressed a button down, and there was a resultant click, a flash and whir, and a square slip of film was spat out by the camera. Lowering it, she tugged at the film. Its surface was greyish, the image slowly taking hold, a silhouette as faintly visible as a specter cast in watery sunlight.

"This the last one?"

Dani's head jerked up before she could watch the image fully materialize. When she saw Jamie inspecting the final present to be unwrapped, she set the camera and the square strip of film down. "Yeah. That one's from me."

Jamie's eyebrows rose. "But you already got me something," she said. She took off the gardening gloves and tugged at the scarf wound about her neck, tossing both onto the ground.

"I wanted to get you something else, too," Dani said.

Jamie stared at her for a moment, her expression unreadable. In the background, Tommy had wrestled the handheld video game from his twin brother. Mike and Nan were chatting away about something boring and adult — war and history, perhaps. Judy had leaned back against the couch, neck craned so she could peer into the kitchen and say something to Karen, who was standing in the doorway with an unlit cigarette dangling from her mouth. Dani smiled and made a motion for Jamie to open her final gift.

Clearing her throat, Jamie began unwrapping the present, taking great pains not to rip a single section of the paper no matter how hastily wrapped in the first place. The box beneath was small, small enough to fit in Jamie's palm. Brows furrowed, she opened it and sucked in a lungful of air. The two identical necklaces entwined inside were cheap and plated, but they gleamed in the Christmas tree lights when Jamie pulled them from their box, sinuous chains pinched between thumb and forefinger.

"Why are there two?" Jamie asked.

"One for you," said Dani, reaching out and taking a necklace with a self-satisfied grin. "And one for me."

Even after Dani had put her own necklace on, Jamie remained frozen in place. The simple chain rotated slowly in place, suspended from her hand, and the half dollar piece pierced midway down the length was a match to the coin that now hung at the hollow of Dani's throat.

"Mike helped me drill the holes," Dani said proudly. "But the rest I did myself."

Jamie swallowed, her throat working, but she said nothing.

Dani frowned and said slowly, "Do you want this one instead?" She lifted the chain away from her neck with her thumb.

Jerking as if from a reverie, Jamie shook her head. "No," she said. She cleared her throat and continued, “No, I like this one. Thank you.”

“Dad, I can’t find them!” Eddie’s voice called from down the hall.

Sighing, Mike pushed himself to his feet and went off to help look for batteries. “Did you check the drawer above the tool set, bud?”

“I did!” Eddie insisted. “They’re not there!”

Jamie was tugging aside her braid so she could fasten the necklace in place beneath it. Behind her, Judy leaned forward in her seat. “Jamie, I told Mike that you were working on that old bike you found.”

Glancing up at her, Jamie gave a nod that she was listening.

“And,” Judy continued, “he said you’re welcome to bring the bike around any time to work on it over here. If you need tools or spare parts, the garage is your oyster.”

Jamie lowered her hands and the necklace was a silvery glimmer that hung down her chest, disappearing beneath the neck of her sweater. “Thanks, Mrs. O’Mara.”

“Please. Call me Judy.”

From the sidelines, Nan lifted a finger to point threateningly at Jamie and growled, “Do not do that.”

Jamie gave Judy an apologetic grin and lifted both hands, palms up, as if in surrender. Judy laughed fondly, eyes bright as she watched Jamie resettle her braid. “Honey, you have such beautiful long hair, why didn’t you leave it open today?”

Nan snorted. “Hell would have to freeze over for that girl to leave her hair down.”

Visibly fighting back a scowl, Jamie shrugged and offered Judy a weak smile. “Just gets in the way, is all.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t have to worry about that if you’d let me help,” Judy said, “We could tie some of it back and tame those curls to some lovely waves like Danielle’s hair.”

At the mention of Dani’s hair, Jamie’s eyes darted to the loose blonde waves cascading over Dani’s shoulders, and both Dani and Judy laughed when Jamie failed to hide her wince.

Meanwhile in the nearby corner, Carson threw down a piece of plastic car track in exasperation. “Jamie,” he called across the room. “Can you help me build this? It’s not working.”

“Sure. Hold up.” Seeing her chance to escape, Jamie quickly stood and wandered over to him, crouching down before the warren of track he had assembled already. “What on earth have you done?”

“I followed the instructions!” Carson whined, holding up a piece of paper.

“Why don’t I believe you?” Jamie snatched the instructions from his hand, then rolled them up to lightly smack him over the head with the pages. He spluttered and slapped her hand away.

“Look at them,” Judy said to Nan while they watched Jamie help Carson set up the toy car track. “Aren’t they cute together?”

“Bit young for that sort of thing, don’t you think?”

“Well, she did defend him from all those bullies. And afterwards, Carson spoke of nothing else. It was ‘Jamie this’ and ‘Jamie that’ for a week solid.”

Jamie overheard the adults talking. She shared a befuddled look with Dani and then mimed being sick. Beside her, Carson had gone bright red, trying and failing to pretend he hadn’t heard anything, while Dani bit back a smile.

“Gross,” Carson said under his breath.

“You can say that again,” Jamie muttered.

“Gross.”

“That’s the spirit. Now, hand me that bit of track over there. No, no, the other one.”

Dani’s gaze dropped to the picture she had taken. She picked it up from the carpet to inspect it more closely. It had finally taken form, and she smiled at the image of Jamie’s half-hidden grin behind a big scarf, her hand bulky from the gardening gloves and blurred from movement. Tucking it away for safekeeping, Dani lifted the camera into her hands once more and pointed it in Jamie and Carson’s direction for another picture.

Much later after lunch, still laughing at the way Nan had spooked Mike and the twins into action to clear the dining room table and clean up the dishes with just a single look and comment, Dani and the others had taken to testing out the limits of Eddie’s walkie talkies around the house. At the moment, she and Jamie were holed up in the upstairs bathroom with one set while Eddie and Carson were running around with the other.

“Can you hear me now? Over.” Eddie’s voice came through the speakers, tinny and muffled.

“Yeah,” Dani responded, “Where are you?”

“You’re supposed to say Over,” Eddie said, “Over.”

Jamie sighed and rolled her eyes, pulling the walkie talkie in Dani’s hand close to her mouth, pressing down on Dani’s thumb that she held over the push to talk button. “Just answer the question, you tit.”

Dani snorted as Eddie grumbled on the other side. “Hold on,” he said, and then a beat passed before he said, “We’re in the garage, how about now?”

“Loud and clear, soldier,” Jamie said dryly and let go of the walkie talkie to turn to Dani with a glint in her eyes, “Y’know, I reckon this thing could even reach beyond your house. Could you imagine putting one under his bed and being able to scare the shite out of him and he wouldn’t even know you were a block away.”

Dani laughed, but said, “That’s mean.”

“Oh, come off it. You’ve thought about it.”

In truth, Dani hadn’t. While Carson had already laid claim to one half of the set much to Eddie’s annoyance, Eddie had already quietly offered Dani to share so they’d could have conversations between their houses without Dani having to come over or hog the house phone. It was a sweet offer, and a tempting one, being able to talk to Eddie whenever she wanted, but looking at Carson’s eager expression, she couldn’t bear to take away the excitement from him.

“Nope,” Dani replied, ignoring Jamie’s dubious look, and continued, “What I am thinking about though, is if there’s any cookies left downstairs.”

Jamie’s eyes lit up just as Eddie’s voice returned. “Okay, we’re in the basement, how about now?”

Taking the walkie talkie from Dani, Jamie said, “Perfectly. Are Tweedledee and Tweedledum down there yet?”

“Yeah,” Eddie replied.

“Ask them if they’ve eaten all the biscuits yet.”

“Biscuits?”

Jamie huffed. “Cookies,” she said, then pulled her finger off the button to mutter, “Christ's sake, you Yanks.”

Snorting again, Dani gave Jamie a curious look, but Jamie just grinned at her until Eddie finally responded, “They said no, but they laughed so I’m not really sure.”

“Means they probably left the shite kind,” Jamie said, “Doesn’t matter, I’ve got a plan. Dani’s gonna run down to grab us a plate, and I’m gonna sneak out to her house to see if this thing can reach there.”

Dani’s eyes went wide.

“Roger that, over and out,” Eddie said, and then there was silence.

“Jamie,” Dani hissed, “Nan will kill you.”

The look Jamie gave her was exasperated. “You’d think she’d done it by now after everything, yeah?”

That made Dani pause, recollecting all the moments when she was sure Nan was about to pop a blood vessel, but never once did anything more beyond a light thwack on the head with her hand or on the ankle with her cane.

Seeing the realization creep onto Dani’s face, Jamie grinned. “See? Won’t take but a minute,” she said, already rushing out the bathroom door.

“Wear a jacket,” Dani called out, and in response, Jamie grinned and saluted her with two fingers before disappearing.

Sighing, Dani waited a minute to give Jamie the time to sneak out without making too big of a scene and then finally descended the stairs. When she reached the ground floor with no Jamie in sight, Dani carefully peeked into the living room to see that all of the adults were none the wiser, Christmas music playing on low as they talked and laughed, the tv playing some movie on mute. The only thing that was curious, was that her mom was missing. Shrugging, Dani ventured off to the kitchen.

True to word, there were cookies left, and just as Jamie had said, they were the kind that would always be left for last on the plate or in the tin. But cookies were cookies, so Dani began helping herself pile some on a plate for the four of them, and just as she decided that some milk would do nicely to go with it, her mother wandered into the kitchen from the back door. Her hand jerked back from the fridge door handle when her mother caught sight of her and the plate of cookies on the counter.

“Cookies? Danielle, you just had a big lunch,” Karen said, stepping closer with a near empty glass of wine in hand, her cheeks flushed pink from the cold, and smelling strong of fresh cigarette smoke.

Dani shrugged, and murmured, “We wanted snacks.”

Her mother sighed, a hand on her hip, her eyes darting over Dani’s sweater. Dani looked away, shying away from her mother’s scrutiny, her shoulders bunching up. “Are you going to wear that all day?” Karen asked. “It’s covering up your pretty dress.”

“I like it,” Dani said, chancing a glance up at her mother to see her mouth slowly twist into a displeased frown. Dani quickly added, “It’s warm, and-and it’s a little cold, so I thought — “

“Danielle, if you didn’t like the dress, all you had to do was say so,” Karen said, her voice sharp, taking another step closer.

Dani blinked up at her, taking a step back until she was pressing against the counter. “I didn’t — I didn’t say that,” Dani murmured, her hands clenched into fists. “I like it. It’s just cold.”

Gradually, the firm lines of her mother’s face cleared until she was staring down at Dani with a near unrecognizable expression. Her mother glanced down at the glass in her hand for a moment before slowly holding it out to Dani. Frowning, Dani looked down at it. Dark red wine swirled in the glass, just only a mouthful left. She had lost track by now since escaping deeper into the house with the others; she couldn’t tell if this was the third glass after the first two Dani counted her mother having during lunch, or if this was somewhere in the realm of the fourth or fifth.

Dani glanced back up to give her mother a questioning look. “Try it,” Karen said, gesturing with the glass. The wine swirled dangerously near the lip of the glass. “Just a sip.”

Hesitantly, Dani unclenched one fist and reached out to the glass, slowly taking it from her mother’s grasp. She swallowed hard, staring down at the ominous burgundy liquid, and darted her eyes back up to her mother for any sharp glint in her eyes, any tension to the corners of her mouth, any clue to see if this was some trick, some test. But her mother only breathed out a laugh and murmured, “Go on.”

Taking a second to gather her courage, Dani lifted the glass to her mouth and took a small sip, and almost immediately twisted up her face. It was bitter, settling heavy and thick on her tongue even as she swallowed it down. Her mom laughed at the expression on her face as Dani pushed the glass back in her hand, wine still remaining at the bottom.

Dani wiped her mouth as though the motion could remove the sour taste in her mouth. Her mom stepped away, still laughing and lifting a finger from the glass to point at Dani. “Consider yourself lucky,” she said, “The first drink my father ever let me try was scotch when I was nine. Now that burned.”

That made Dani pause, staring at her mom as she downed the rest of the wine with ease. It wasn’t often her mother spoke of Dani’s grandfather. “He always used to do that,” Karen said, a rueful look in her glassy eyes, “He was always such a sweet man when he was drinking, like it was the only way he knew how to show affection. But when he was sober though —” her mother chuckled, a short bitter thing “ — that was an entirely different story.”

Dani stood frozen, watching her mother swallow thickly and clear her throat, opening a cabinet to pull out a bottle of wine. An uncomfortable churning began in Dani’s stomach, though she couldn’t tell if it was from the sip of wine she tasted, or from watching her mother pour herself another glass, more than she had in previous drinks. As though sensing Dani’s discomfort, her mother stared at her, resting the bottle on the kitchen table with a heavy ominous thud.

“Don’t you start,” Karen said, her eyes suddenly and inexplicably hardened.

“Start what?” Dani asked, her eyes darting up to her mother’s, curling further into the hunch of her shoulders. She hadn’t done anything beyond stare at the wine with some measure of concern, but at the sight of mother’s face shadowed with a severe frown, Dani knew immediately that she had misstepped somewhere over the course of the day.

“You think I haven’t seen your little looks all day? Counting? Judging?”

Dani could hear it then, the slight slur to her mother’s voice. Could see it in her piercing glassy eyes. Could feel it in the way her mother stepped closer again, her shoulders tense and feet moving with purpose. The urge to run struck Dani hard in the chest, but she remained frozen, pressing back harder into the counter behind her as her mother loomed over her.

“I didn’t - I wasn’t doing anything,” Dani stuttered, her heart crashing against her ribs.

Karen scoffed. “No? So, I imagined it then. Like a fool.”

“N-no, I — “ Unable to look her mother in the eyes anymore, Dani bowed her head to stare at the ground, her feet so small compared to her mother’s stocking covered pair.

“You couldn’t give me just this one day, Danielle,” Karen said, “You know how hard Christmas can be for me.”

Dani nodded, words trapped in her throat. Her mother exhaled sharply. “You always have to do this, don’t you?” Karen said, her voice low and acrid with strained bitterness. “First with the sweater, and now this.”

The words seemed to wrap around Dani’s heart and clench painfully tight until a dull but deep ache spread across her chest, leaving her throat thick and her eyes burning. Any cheer or joy Dani had managed to revel in throughout the day seemed to slip away and vanish like a cloud of smoke.

“I’m sorry,” she finally murmured, “I won’t do it again.”

Her mother scoffed again, and just when it felt like she was about to say something else, there was a distinct tapping sound nearing the kitchen. Her mother paused, and after what felt like an eternity, Dani watched her feet step away with a sigh. All at once it felt like Dani could breathe again. She glanced up as the tapping cane came closer, and fiddled with the cookies on the plate.

“Ruth,” Karen said, her voice sounding so clear, as if nothing had just transpired, “Would you like a glass of wine?”

Dani reached for a cookie and bit into it, with nothing else to distract her from the roiling in her stomach and the thickness in her throat.

“None for me, thank you,” Nan said, stepping towards the sink, “Afraid I’ve damned myself to another cup of microwaved tea. Dani, be a dear and fetch me the milk.”

At the sound of her name — her preferred name — Dani jumped, twisting around to blink at Nan who was already busy filling her cup with water from the tap. Dani stared, frozen for a moment before jumping into action, setting down her cookie to pull out the carton of milk from the fridge without looking in her mother’s direction. After a moment of contemplation as Nan heated up her mug in the microwave, Dani helped herself and poured the glass of milk she had wanted for the cookies in the first place, a noticeable tremble in her hands.

With nothing more to do, Dani stood there staring at the glass, the room eerily silent save for the buzzing hum of the microwave, until —

“Dani,” Nan said. Jerking just slightly out of her reverie, her hands clenched into fists, her eyes darted to Nan who was watching her steadily, soft around the edges and so unfamiliar that Dani could do nothing but blink. Nan gestured her head towards the kitchen entrance, and murmured, “They’re all waiting for you downstairs, love.”

Dani nodded, biting her lip hard at the unrelenting feeling of her mother’s piercing gaze on her back. She picked up the plate and glass of milk and slowly made her way out of the room, her head ducked. In between the moments of taking her leave from the kitchen and gradually making her way down the stairs towards the basement, Dani’s heart settled and she managed to push down the lump in her throat, but the ache in her chest remained.

When she reached downstairs, the room packed with mismatched furniture and a tv in the corner that was surrounded by the boys arguing over which program or movie to watch, there was Jamie, laughing brightly with her cheeks flushed red and her hair cluttered in a starburst of melting snow. But when Jamie turned, catching her eyes, instead of a smile Dani expected, victorious from her quick jaunt outside, Jamie frowned and started towards her.

“You all right?” Jamie asked, her eyes darting between Dani’s.

Dani nodded, her mouth pulling into a smile. “Yeah, of course,” she said, and held up the plate for Jamie to see, “These cookies just really suck.”

Jamie glanced down at the plate before returning her gaze to Dani, arching a disbelieving eyebrow.

“Seriously, I think there’s raisins in them,” Dani added. Pulling her mouth into a thin line, Jamie took the plate and glass from her hand to set them on a nearby table. Dani frowned. “Hey, wha — “

“C’mon,” Jamie said, grabbing her hand and pulling her back towards the stairs. “I want to show you something.”

Dani’s stomach twisted. “Jamie — “

“S’alright,” Jamie said, turning to grin at her, her eyes soft. “You’ll like it, I promise.”

Slowly, Dani’s mouth shut, Jamie’s cold hand squeezing her own in a careful grip. Dani couldn’t help but match Jamie’s grin and follow her back up the stairs, the pull of her hand insistent but gentle as she guided Dani up to the second floor towards a window on the landing that overlooked the backyard.

“C’mon, take a look,” Jamie said, leaning against the windowsill with a smile over her shoulder at Dani, their hands still clasped.

Shooting Jamie a puzzled grin, Dani stood next to her to look out the window, and felt her breath catch in her chest. Outside, flurries of white gently floated down from the sky in a dance to unheard music.

“Pretty, right?” Jamie asked, her voice unusually soft. Dani nodded, her eyes wide as she stared up at the sky, the sound of Christmas music muffled through the floor. And then, Jamie carefully said, “Dunno why it seemed like you just went through the ringer in the minute I was outside, but I felt like this could cheer you up a bit.”

Dani squeezed the hand in her own, feeling the ghost of the pressure returned. “It did,” Dani said softly, “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Jamie murmured, and then added, “You wanna come over soon? Escape your mum for a bit? We could eat leftovers ‘til we’re sick and make Nan watch White Christmas again? She may actually try to kill us this time, but worth the risk.”

Dani laughed, feeling an inexplicable lightness to her shoulders and chest, the aching pressure gone. Dani turned to catch Jamie’s eyes, only to see that Jamie was already staring at her with a pleased grin. “Yeah, I’d love to,” Dani said, her smile wide, and Jamie’s hand warm in her own.

The first thing Jamie said when she opened the door was, "You've got to help me."

Dani blinked in surprise. She stood, dumb-struck, on Jamie's front step with an overnight bag slung over her shoulder. Night was already swiftly descending even though it was only six in the evening. Behind her headlights like a pair of eyes flashed through the gloom against the windows as her mother's car pulled away from the curb, where moments before Dani had hopped out and trotted up to Jamie's house without a backward glance. Dani glanced down to where Jamie's fist was clenched around a pair of kitchen scissors, spotted with rust.

"What -?" she asked, and had barely enough time to toe off her snow-struck shoes before Jamie was grabbing her by the wrist and hauling her inside, shutting the door with a kick of her socked foot.

"Shh! Keep it down!" Jamie hissed.

Her head whipped around to see if anyone had heard them, but the living room was empty and there were no tell-tale sounds of the tap of a walking stick down the hall or in the kitchen. Her hair was uncharacteristically down, Dani noticed. Long and auburn-dark as autumn leaves, curled from all its time spent coiled up in a braid.

"Okay," Jamie whispered, "We're clear. Follow me."

Dani made an abortive noise in the back of her throat, but tamped it down as Jamie tightened her hold on her hand. They scurried through the house like thieves. Jamie led them on a circuitous route around the furniture, as though stalking a beast through the jungle. The tops of their heads peeped out over the cushions of a green couch with a lacy throw draped across its back like delicate snow. With a final dart down the hall, their footsteps muffled by the carpet bearing tea stains and cigarette burns — tea stains from Jamie, cigarette burns from the previous owner — they made it to the spare half bathroom, which had no shower. Jamie locked the door behind them with careful precision, so that the sound was only the lightest of clicks against the brass knob.

"What's happening?" Dani asked, voice hushed in the dark.

Jamie only flicked on the light when she had grabbed a towel from the rack and pressed it up against the bottom of the door to keep as much light from leaking out as possible. Then, she rounded on Dani and held up the scissors. "I need you to cut my hair."

"Is that it?" Dani asked, straightening her spine.

Jamie made a motion for Dani to keep her voice down. "She'll hear you!"

Rolling her eyes, Dani nevertheless gamely kept her voice to a low murmur, "Why doesn't Nan just take you to the hairdresser in town?"

"She did! Look!" Jamie pointed at her own hair, which admittedly did look to be an inch or so shorter than when Dani had seen her last.

"What's wrong with it?"

"Everything!" Jamie hissed. "I wanted it all off, but Nan said no! And the barber refused to take the money I tried to give her when Nan wasn’t looking! Fucking coward.”

"And you want me to do it instead?" Dani asked. "So I can face Nan's wrath? No way!"

"She won't hurt a child!" Jamie said. Then after a moment, she added, "Much. Anyway, she likes you. Way more than she likes me."

"Now, that's not true."

"Inn'it though?" Jamie said, narrowing her eyes and nodding as though they both knew the answer to that rhetorical question.

"It's not!" Dani insisted.

Through the door, they could hear a distant cough. Both of them froze, deer in the headlights, trapped in a looming, luminous stare. There followed a shuffling as if of someone shifting their weight atop bed springs, and the papery turning of a page. When it became clear that Nan wasn't coming to investigate, they both breathed a sigh of relief.

"If you're not going to help me, then I'll just do it myself," said Jamie, already grabbing hold of her own hair and lifting the scissors.

With a groan, Dani dropped her overnight bag to the peeling linoleum floor. She held out her hand. "Give me the scissors."

"Oh, hell yes," Jamie breathed.

Scissors in hand, Dani directed Jamie to sit atop the scarred wooden toilet seat. Jamie eagerly complied, facing away from her so that Dani could have easy access. For a moment Dani hesitated. She reached out and touched Jamie's long hair, combing her fingers through the wild tangle of dark untamable curls. It was, she realised with an odd thread of excitement weaving a warm path through her chest, the first time she had ever touched Jamie's hair like this. When she dragged her fingernails lightly along Jamie's scalp, Jamie's shoulders relaxed and she swayed back into Dani's hand with a soft sound.

Dani withdrew her hand as though scalded. "Sorry," she mumbled.

"S'alright," Jamie said without turning around. "Feels nice. You can touch my hair."

"Yeah?"

Now, Jamie did turn her head, angled just enough so that Dani could see her roll her eyes. "How else are you supposed to cut it? Christ. You are thick sometimes."

Dani flicked the back of her head as revenge. Jamie flinched from the contact, but Dani could hear her laugh quietly, could catch a glimpse of her smile.

"Go on, then," Jamie said, squaring her shoulders once more as though readying herself for a march into battle. "Do it."

Carefully, taking her time so that Jamie could back out if she wanted, Dani pulled around as much of her hair as she could so that it draped down Jamie's back. "You're going to owe me big time for this," Dani muttered as she worked.

"Name the price."

"I want the good pillow tonight," Dani said. Jamie's bedroom was small and cramped and there were no other spare rooms in the house, so every time Dani stayed over it always ended up with the two of them crammed together on Jamie's narrow mattress, where one of them — usually Dani — was inevitably stuck with a lumpy pillow from the couch.

"Done," Jamie agreed without a hint of hesitation.

“All right,” Dani said. She steadied herself with a deep breath and placed the flat of the closed scissor blade against Jamie’s shoulder. “Here?”

“Shorter.”

Dani dragged the scissors up a few inches higher. “Here?”

“Shorter.”

Swallowing down her nerves, Dani lifted the scissors so that they hovered over the back of Jamie’s neck just below the base of her skull. “Here?”

Jamie nodded, her head bumping gently against the scissors. “Yeah. Perfect.”

“All right,” Dani repeated. She opened the scissors and held them in place so that a good portion of Jamie’s long hair was folded across the sharp edges of the blades. Still, she did not cut. Her pulse thundered in her ears.

“Hurry up,” Jamie said and she cast a furtive glance towards the door. “She could come any second.”

And, taking her life into her own hands, Dani squeezed the scissors shut. The first section of Jamie’s hair fell away like a curtain with a single clean snip. As if watching herself perform the deed from out of her own body with a kind of dull horror, Dani continued along — two more great big cuts in a horizontal line — until Jamie’s curls brushed the back of her neck and no further.

“Is that -?” Dani lowered the scissors. “Is that what you wanted?”

One of Jamie’s hands reached up and she felt at her own hair with a silent wonder.

“Jamie,” Dani breathed nervously. “Please, tell me that it’s all right.”

There was no mirror in this bathroom. Indeed, the only mirror in the whole house was a small rectangle of reflective glass in the bathroom with only a shower over a bath adjoining Nan’s room further down the hall. And there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell they would be braving that tonight.

Jamie turned around so that she sat facing Dani, and she beamed up at her. “Perfect,” Jamie said. “Absolutely bloody perfect.”

The creak of bed springs, and the tap of a cane, and both of their eyes widened.

“Shit,” Jamie hissed, leaping off the toilet so she could lift the lid and begin shoving hair into the bowl. “Help me hide the evidence!”

“Hide the evidence?” Dani repeated incredulously. “You think she’s not going to notice?”

Even so, Dani scrambled to help, while they continued whispering and hissing at one another like a pair of angry geese. Except Jamie was wearing the biggest smile on her face, one Dani could not hope but mirror, and biting her lip as they tried to stifle their giggles and flush the toilet quickly enough.

There was a knock on the door, and Nan’s suspicious voice from the other side, “What are you two up to this time?”

Stuffing the pair of scissors under her sweater even though the door hadn’t opened, Dani straightened, Jamie’s shoulder and elbow jostling her own, and they both chorused in unison, “Nothing!”

#thobm #the haunting of bly manor #damie #dani clayton #jamie taylor #dani/jamie #roman writes #I hate tagging on tumblr #cfau #bring home a haunting

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archadianskies · 3 years

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wingspan

→ on Ao3

@dbhrarepairs Monday Day 1: Post-Apocalypse • Sacrifice; Hank Anderson/Rose Chapman TLOU AU

“Alice needs medicine.” It’s said in a whispered hush, paired with nervous glances over at the feverish child labouring in bed. “Her coughs are wet and her chest sounds congested.”

“Adam’s still about a week out from being able to drive back here,” Rose chews her lip, shaking her head.

“Doesn’t matter,” Hank shrugs, “I’ll make the exchange by myself.”

“No!” Her voice is stern, her gaze even moreso but she knows it won’t dissuade him. They both know this has to be done.

“Make the call. Luther can help me load up the truck and I’ll go.”

“Hank-” Kara, sweet Kara with anguish on her face weighing her down, wearier and wearier with a sick child already.

“I’ll get it done, for your little girl,” he pats her hand and there’s conflict mixed with her gratitude. “Luther will keep everyone safe here while I’m gone.”

They’re easing into winter and they all know if he doesn’t go now, there won’t be a chance later when the roads are covered in snow. Doesn’t mean Rose is any more comfortable with the plan, not when the world isn’t what it was and every single day they’re out here they know they’re all on a knife’s edge.

“The cold slows them down,” Hank tries to placate and she raises one brow and he drops that line and goes for another. “I’ll be careful.”

“You better,” Rose says firmly and eases the beanie on his head. “North’s making the drop this time.”

“Doubly, extra triple careful then,” he mutters. North’s tempestuous at the best of times, so Hank knows there won’t be any casual banter or interesting snippets of news exchanged with the goods.

Usually Josh is the one he meets with, sometimes Simon, and on that one occasion which he still is half-convinced never happened- Markus himself turned up. Jericho is one of the largest communities flourishing in the aftermath and has a functioning hospital, and the Chapman farm has, well, fresh vegetables and poultry. It’s a good relationship in this hellscape, one that gives him hope for a future.

“Truck’s all loaded,” Luther thumps the hatch as Hank makes his way over. “If you leave now you’ll make it back before nightfall. I’ll keep an eye on the house, I promise.”

Hank claps his shoulder. “Thanks Luther, I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Thank you,” the man murmurs, his voice more like a deep rumble in that broad chest. “Thank you for doing this for us.”

“Hey, I’d do anything for her,” it’s the goddamn truth and he isn’t too proud to admit it. “I’d do anything for any of you.”

“Be safe,” Luther squeezes his arm. “It’s your turn to read to Alice tonight, remember?”

“Wouldn’t dream of missing it.”

He pulls out of the driveway, sparing Luther one last glance in the rearview mirror before it’s just him and the road and all the thoughts he tries so desperately to keep at bay. It’s been ten years since the outbreak, ten whole years since that cursed day he held Cole as his son bled out in his arms. It’s been nearly five years since Rose Chapman found him, half mad with grief and nearly feral with hunger yet too stubborn to die.

He doesn’t really remember the years between Cole’s death and him wandering onto the outskirts of Rose’s farm. She’d saved him, continues to save him day in and day out because he has a purpose here, he matters here, and there are people here he’d kill to protect.

Once the initial wave was over, once the violence cannibalised itself, people did what people do best- they come together, they rebuild, they reconcile, they strive forward. It doesn’t mean it’s completely safe, it doesn’t mean it’s all smooth sailing, but Hank can see a future now where he couldn’t see one before.

*~*

There’s three kids walking along the tree line; it’s a blink and miss situation, but he definitely didn’t miss it. Three kids, all alone, heading somewhere but nowhere close enough they’ll make it by nightfall. Ah shit. Hank pulls over and the kids are smart enough to dart for cover.

“You kids alright?” He takes out his gun and sweeps his gaze around, trying to spot any infected who might be lurking nearby.

“We’re alright!” One of them calls out.

“Shut up Connor!” One of them hushes the one named Connor.

“It’s only a couple of hours until sundown and there’s no camp you can reach safely on foot in time,” Hank approaches slowly, keeping his voice low. He sees them now, all three of them, skinny boys in ill fitting clothing with backpacks too big for them.

One of them has a bandaid stuck to an old crusted wound right in the middle of his forehead. The other has a bandage wrapped around his forearm, brown with age. And the last one is pointing a gun at him.

“We said we are alright.” The one holding a gun says icily. He can’t be more than ten, yet the look in his eyes says everything; the boy has been through things a ten year old shouldn’t have, but then the same could be said about most children in this hellscape.

“Two of you are hurt. I’m going to Jericho and-”

“Jericho?” The one named Connor perks up. “We’re going to Jericho!”

“Shut up Connor!” The other says exasperatedly, and Hank can see they’re identical twins with the only difference to be found in their expressions.

“I can take you there. Plenty of room in the truck.”

“What will it cost us?” The one with the gun demands, and Hank shakes his head.

“Nothin’. I just don’t want you boys out here all alone, especially once it gets dark and the temperature plummets,” he tries to reason with them, but can’t fault them for their caution.

“We managed to make camp just fine,” one of the twins says stubbornly but Hank can see it, can see that small hopeful expression he’s trying so desperately to mask.

“I’m sure you did, and I’m sure you can tonight. You just shouldn’t have to, that’s all,” he gestures at his truck. “This way’s pretty deserted but Jericho’s much safer and the truck’s much faster than going on foot. What do you say?”

“If you try something funny, Ronan will shoot you,” the stubborn twin threatens, and Hank nods.

“Alright.”

It’s a tight squeeze but three boys under ten are about the size of one grown man so it spares Hank the effort of rearranging the produce on the back. There’s a blanket Kara crocheted on one of the seats, and he tucks it over them and doesn’t miss the way they snuggle closer, huddling for warmth.

“Is Jericho nice? How long have you lived there?” Connor asks after a while.

“Jericho is very nice. It’s big and safe and there’s other kids in there too,” Hank explains, “but I don’t live there. I live on a farm down the other way, and we supply vegetables and chickens to them in exchange for meds and materials and shi- stuff.”

“You’re making an exchange now?” The one named Ronan asks quietly, the gun still held tightly in his hands now resting on his lap.

“Yeah, uh, Alice, a little girl about your age, she’s sick,” Hank spares them a glance. “Her cough’s getting pretty bad so we’re hoping to get some meds to help.”

“Maybe they’ll have something for me there?” Connor says so softly Hank barely hears him.

“Are you sick? What do you think you need? I’m sure they’ll have it there.”

“You’re not sick!” The other twin hisses, and Connor huffs stubbornly.

“That’s the problem Sean, and maybe that’s why I need help!”

“Wait, what do you mean by that?” Hank looks over at them and both boys click their jaws shut and refuse to meet his gaze.

“It’s fine,” Ronan says, the ice back in his tone. “We just need to get to Jericho.”

They spend the rest of the drive in silence, and Hank’s glad when the large gates loom up on the horizon. He doesn’t drive up to the main entrance, but takes a side road and stops the truck by a clearing where there’s another car waiting.

“Hey Hank,” the redhead greets with a lazy wave, leaning against the trunk.

“Hey North,” he nods respectfully as he kills the engine and hops out.

“Oh,” she blinks in surprise, “new survivors?”

“Yeah I picked ‘em up on the way,” Hank gestures over at them before busying himself with removing the tarp over the cargo. “They were headed this way so I thought I’d get ‘em here safely.”

“Doc will want to check them over,” North looks at the boys and Connor is the only one who offers a wave. “It’s just protocol of course.”

“They’ll need her help anyway- Sean has that wound on his forehead and Connor has the bandage on his arm,” Hank looks over his shoulder at the boys. “Blood looks old but it can’t hurt to give it a once over and a dressing change.”

“And the other one who looks ready to murder me?”

“That’s Ronan. He’s holding a gun.”

“Clever boy,” North smirks, coming around to the driver’s side and peeking in through the open door. “You boys want to come stay here with us, you have to get checked by the Doc first okay?”

“Okay,” they chorus obediently and Hank finds himself grinning helplessly.

“Got the meds and some honest to god wool yarn for Kara,” North informs him as she loads up a crate onto the back. “Otto farm about six hours away made the exchange and I kept a couple of skeins for her.”

“She’ll love that, thanks North,” he pats the crate happily. “And we all profit it from it, so…”

“It’s more an investment than a gift,” she grins before beckoning to the brothers. “Alright kiddos let’s go. Come in and grab a coffee Hank, while the guys unload the rest and refuel.”

“You’re a saint, thanks.”

*~*

Jericho is a nice place. It’s a really really nice place. It’s full of life and learning and healing. No matter how hard others try to take this place for themselves, no matter how much violence they try and inflict, the sheer resilience of its people keeps the place running. That, and well, having nearly an entire SWAT team complete with a Captain in residence can’t hurt.

Far better, kinder, saner team than the rabid FBI team led by Prickins from a few years back who tried to destroy Jericho and take it for themselves. The whole debacle saw over half of Jericho burned to the ground and dozens slaughtered.

It’s when he and Rose took in Kara and her family, because the sheer trauma was too much for Alice to process and she could never return. Adam stayed on as a nurse and found his calling. It feels like a lifetime ago too.

He takes his coffee over to the little clinic at the side entrance where newcomers are screened because he wants to make sure the boys are alright.

“This is a burn,” Adam frowns as he inspects the wound on Sean’s forehead. “How did you get this?”

The boy doesn’t answer, looking over nervously as doctor Anthea unwraps the bandage from Connor’s arm.

“Oh my god-”

“Fuck!” The expletive leaves his mouth before he can stop himself.

“It’s three weeks old we swear!” Connor cries, nursing his arm to his chest, tears in his eyes. “It’s three weeks old!”

Before Hank can comment any further he’s being slammed to the wall, North placing a gun under his jaw. “You brought a fucking kid with a bite into Jericho and expected to leave him here?!”

“I didn’t-”

“He didn’t know!” Ronan shouts, clenching his trembling hands into fists. “We didn’t tell him in case he left us behind!”

“He should’ve left you behind!” North growls.

“It’s old,” Anthea raises her voice. “The teeth indentations have healed over. This is new scar tissue right here.” She’s gently tracing the mark on Connor’s arm, the boy’s bottom lip trembling as tears spill down his cheeks.

“How the fuck is that possible?” North steps away and lowers her gun, too shocked to be angry now it seems. “Everyone who’s ever been bitten turns after eight hours at the most.”

“He must be immune, then,” Anthea smiles in disbelief as she smooths Connor’s hair away from his face. “You are one of a kind, Connor.”

“We keep him in holding overnight,” North declares, crossing her arms over her chest. “Just to be sure.”

“No, you keep us together!” Sean spits, fuming at the mere suggestion of separation.

“I don’t have time for that, I have to get back to Alice!” Hank argues and North cocks her brow.

“No one’s asking you to stay, Hank, you can go.”

“Bullshit! I’m not letting you lock up these kids outside of Jericho’s walls!”

“You can go, you got us to Jericho, you don’t need to do anything else!” Ronan adds and oh Hank can see it, Hank can see the fear of being left alone in those big grey eyes.

“I’ll go, I know the way,” Adam offers, holding his hand out for the keys. “It’s my home, after all. I’ll be back in the morning.”

“I’ll spend the night in holding, then,” Hank nods as he hands over the keys to the truck. “Tell Alice I’m sorry I’ll miss storytime.”

“You spend the night in holding,” North orders as takes his gun from the table and presses it back into his hand, “and you put him down yourself if he turns.”

“And then us too,” Ronan says in a voice so steady, so resigned for a child. “If you shoot him, you have to shoot us too.”

“It won’t come to that,” Hank says firmly.

“For everyone’s sake, I hope you’re right,” Anthea runs her fingers over the bite on Connor’s arm again before gently thumbing away his tears. “I guess we shall see in the morning, hm?”

The holding area must have been a security control room at some point. It’s now been caged by wire completely, with a chained and padlocked gate. He must be losing what little sanity he has left, but at least he’s not losing his compassion. No way in hell he’s about to abandon three boys to an uncertain fate, no matter how brave they’re trying to be.

“You could’ve gone back to the farm,” Ronan points out as Connor curls up on the lumpy mattress under the covers with his twin.

“Yeah I know,” Hank shrugs, nursing his coffee mug. Simon had left them with provisions to last the night, including a large thermos of coffee because he’s an angel in this apocalyptic hellscape.

“What if we’re lying and Connor turns and kills you?” Sean demands, though it’s not so effective given Connor’s clinging to him tiredly.

“Then I’d die,” Hank offers them the soup thermos. “Alice is still getting her medicine tonight, so that’s perfectly fine.”

“Don’t you have family at the farm?” Ronan accepts the thermos and pours out a cupful, handing it straight to Connor.

“Losing me won’t be that big a loss for them.”

“That’s a lie! Everyone has someone who’d miss them!” Connor shouts, nearly spilling the soup in his outburst. Hank admits defeat there. Rose would miss him, he thinks, because she’s all heart and soul.

She took him in when he was a husk of a man and together with Adam they toiled and tilled the land, took in every broken survivor and sent them on their way to Jericho with a full belly and provisions to spare. And Hank shot anyone who ever dared to raise their hand against Rose because people like that, greedy fuckers who want to take and take, have no place in this new world.

“What happened to you boys out there? What happened three weeks ago?” It’s The Question and no one seems to want to answer it.

“We wanted to go to the stream to see the fish,” Ronan eventually starts quietly. “We snuck out because Amanda didn’t give her permission.”

“It’s all my fault, I shouldn’t have insisted,” Connor stares into the soup as if it could offer comfort. “I just really wanted to see them.”

“We didn’t see the infected one until it was too late and it bit Connor,” Ronan reaches over to hold his hand. “We tried to hide it but it was bleeding a lot and Amanda heard us in the bathroom getting the first aid kit.”

There’s a pause and Hank realises Sean hasn’t said a single word, resolutely avoiding everyone’s gaze.

“She dragged Connor out the back and-” Ronan falters, pressing his lips into a tight line as he darts a look at Sean. “She gave Sean a gun and told him to shoot Connor as punishment for sneaking out.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Hank swears, recoiling in horror and it makes sense now; the small burn mark on his forehead is from the shell casing hitting him.

“She made you do it, Sean, I don’t hate you!”

“Well you should!” Sean yells. “You should because I pulled the trigger!”

“She made you do it!” His twin insists, squeezing his hand. “She made you and if you didn’t she would’ve killed you!”

“So I killed her,” Ronan says evenly, as if he’s simply stating the sky is indeed blue. “I took the gun from Sean after he missed, and I shot her in the chest and after she fell over I shot her in the head.” Ronan looks at him defiantly. “So we’re fine. We can look after ourselves, you don’t have to care about us.”

Hank slowly sinks to his knees, taking the cup of soup from Connor and setting it aside before gently gathering the boy into his arms and reaching for the other two. He’s a big guy, he has enough wingspan for all three, and he enfolds them in as tight a hug as he can manage and that’s it, that’s what sends the last of their defences tumbling down. They cry loudly, the trauma of it all finally being given a proper outlet and he holds them and he vows to himself that he’s never letting them go. There will be no more Amandas in their life, not now, not ever again.

“Takes us with you,” Connor sobs. “Don’t leave us here.”

“We’re leaving once Adam gets back. All of us,” Hank promises. “I’m never letting you out of my sight.”

He’s used to watching the dawn, used to getting up this early now to feed the chickens and collect the eggs. He’s even used to waking up with a child still fast asleep on him, now that Alice treats him like a grandfather. There’s something different about this moment, though, with all three boys snuggled against him.

There’s something hopeful about this because it’s eight hours later and he’s still whole and alive and unbitten. And that means Connor is indeed immune. With Sean being an identical twin, that means he too could carry the natural immunity. The hope of the entire world, fast asleep in his arms. It’s a beautiful sentiment.

“Good morning Hank,” greets a voice at the gate and there’s Mister Markus Manfred himself; Jericho’s saviour and leader. “It’s good to see you.”

“Is Adam here yet?”

“Not yet,” the man shakes his head. “But Simon made breakfast for you and the boys. They’ll have a room near the creche with the other children, and we can get them settled in afterward.”

“We’ll have breakfast, and then as soon as Adam gets back, we’re heading for the farm,” he meets Markus’ gaze steadily. “They’re not staying.”

“Hank, Dr Anthea told me Connor is immune. That means we could work towards developing a vaccine.”

“You still can,” he shrugs as best he can with three sleeping kids piled on him. “We can make the trip every weekend. But these boys are coming home with me.”

Markus looks at him, scrutinising him, and Hank can see both the leader and the saviour at work, weighing up the pros and cons and trying to find the common ground for the greater good. Hank would never want to be in his shoes, no sir, no thank you.

“Breakfast, then?” Markus smiles one of his charming presidential smiles as he unlocks the gate and gestures towards the entrance. “Simon made pancakes and we cut up some of the strawberries you brought over from the farm.”

“Pancakes?” Connor stirs sleepily, rubbing his eyes and there it is, there’s the bite on his arm, three weeks and one day older.

“Yeah kiddo, pancakes for breakfast before we head home.”

“Home,” Ronan echoes with a soft smile.

“We’ll be good, we’ll help out on the farm and work extra hard,” Sean whispers nervously, and Hank runs a hand through his sleep-tousled hair.

“I know you will.”

Connor and Sean Dechart are ten years old- very nearly almost eleven, Connor points out. Ronan Dechart turned nine two weeks ago, a birthday forgotten entirely in the struggle to survive so Hank makes note to bake a cake. Their parents had died in the initial outbreak, and Professor Amanda Stern had taken them in after finding them hiding at the nearby university where she taught. The story unfolds on the drive back to the farm and the more he learns about their time with Amanda the more he’s glad Ronan shot her and shot her again.

Luther greets them on the driveway, Alice bundled up in a thick down jacket and blanket sitting on his arm. She waves enthusiastically, cheeks rosy and smile bright and Hank feels his heart squeeze in his chest at the sight. Rose is standing on the porch and she’s giving him A Look and he wants to say sorry reflexively but he’s not actually sorry for anything.

Alice takes Connor’s hand and drags him inside, the boys trailing, and she announces loudly that she’s giving them the grand tour. Luther claps him on the shoulder before following Alice.

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” Rose sighs heavily as she pours him a generous mug of freshly brewed coffee. Her tone is reprimanding, but there’s something fond in her eyes as they take a seat at the dining table.

“I couldn’t leave them,” he shakes his head. “Not out there on their own, and not even at Jericho. Not after all the shit they’ve been through.”

“Because you’re a parent, Hank,” she says it so softly, so gently and his breath hitches in his throat. “You’re a father. It’s just what you do. It’s just who you are.”

“They’ve been through hell, and they deserve better. They deserve a second chance.” His vision blurs as he raises his head and looks at you. “You taught me that.”

“I did, and now you’re teaching them that,” Rose is smiling, a big radiant smile and he can’t help but lean over to kiss that beautiful smile. As far as second chances go, he reckons this is about as perfect as it gets.

#Hank Anderson #rose chapman #connor rk800 #rk800 60 #rk900 #Detroit: Become Human #detroit become dad #dbhrarepairsweek #tlou au #annie writes: dbh

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scaredyships · 3 years

Text

Renegades (Din Djarin x gn!Reader) | pt. II

summary: You attempt to get settled into their new life as best as they can, and are mildly appalled at how bare-bones Mando is living.

word count: 6.5k (I guess I just don’t know how to write short things)

author’s notes: More setting the stage before progressing on to following the plot of the show. Sorgan is next chapter, I promise. But for now it's the two idiots and the tiny green gremlin getting accustomed to one another. ngl, as I got to the last little bit I just wanted to get it DONE, so apologies about any awkward writing there.

I spent so much time looking up food and kitchen-equivalents on Wookieepedia for this chapter.

Part 1 / Part 2 (you are here) // ao3 link

---

It wasn’t clear just how little you had to work with until you started to go about trying to figure out your new place as crewmate on the Razor Crest.

You’d think a full-time bounty hunter, even one that worked solo, would have a little more in storage other than the vast amount of weapons, like an extra bed roll or blankets or something. But no, not this one. He seemed more concerned with having extra firepower than additional living necessities.

You sighed, putting the lid back on the storage crate you'd opened up. You had hoped to find something other than weaponry inside, and while it wasn't exactly weapons, it sure looked like it contained canisters like the ones you saw attached to the mobile carbon-freezing unit he had on board. There were no other places to look.

Standing up straight, you turned to face the length of the hold. If you'd really wanted to, you could have tried to get Mando to let you have the space he normally reserved for housing captive bounty as a space for you to claim. But between you not having the courage, and certainly not wanting to deal with the possibility of a carbonite-frozen bounty being stored there to stare endlessly at you, it was off the table. The hold it was. It was narrow and not exactly intended as a living space, but you could make it work. There was already a dip in the wall where you stood, and with some rearranging of the crates, you could create more of a "wall" to provide some semblance of privacy - and to provide a barrier so you didn't have to deal with seeing the entire refresher unit every time you turned your head.

Unfortunately, that's where your resources ended. The closest thing Mando had to extra bedding was the rough, heavy-duty netting he kept to tie cargo down with. Hardly suitable for what you were needing. You also had no additional change of clothes. You were already starting to feel self-conscious about it, hoping you didn't start to smell funky too quickly. A shower would only go so far when your clothes hadn't been washed.

A trip to some kind of market was needed. It was a good thing Mando was already intending to stop somewhere to refuel.

You flipped open one of the pouches on your belt, pulling out its contents. Several loose credits, and a couple credit chips. Thank Maker you still had those. With your usual living expenses having significantly downsized now that you were out of a home and all the associated bills that came with it, your budget gave you much more to work with. You had more than enough to get you what you might need. You tucked your credits back into your belt.

There was one more thing you needed to check, but didn't know where it was. The pantry. There was no doubt that Mando's current stock was meant for a single adult individual, and not two adults and a small alien child, so it would need to be supplemented anyways. But what did he already have? Had he recently stocked up, or was he nearing the last of his rations?

You made your way over to the ladder that led up to the helm, where Mando was piloting to wherever he was going to stop for fuel. The kid must've heard you coming, because his head suddenly popped over the edge of the hatch to watch you, twittering curiously. You half-heartedly waved at him, hoping he didn't try to come down by himself.

"Hey, Mando!"

The heavy sound of boots hitting the floor reverberated through the ceiling and came closer to the hatch, until the reflective helmet of the bounty hunter stared down at you.

"Where's your pantry hold at?"

He stood still for just a moment, fingers twitching at his side - a nervous tic? - and then reaching for the kid, began to climb down the ladder. You stepped back and allowed him ample space to get down, and for him to set the kid down. The little green child looked around and waited to see what the two of you were up to. Mando trudged towards a panel near the armory just across from the ladder, and pushed a switch.

"Here."

A panel on the wall swished aside and a conservator was revealed, along with a small set of shelves containing tins, ration packs, and an extremely modest set of dish ware that itself looked like it had come from a military ration pack.

It was difficult to stop your eyebrows from raising to the top of your forehead. There was so little here. And what was here, was so incredibly basic that you couldn't imagine trying to live off of it for every single meal. A few packs of basic rations, a dwindling container of mealgrain. You cautiously pulled open the conservator, and it was what you expected. More basic ration packs, a single almost-empty package of some kind of sausage links, and a couple small jars of paste that could be added to water to make a basic soup. You closed the door, and leafed through the shelves' contents. There was an old heating plate in there and a small pot, and maybe enough utensils that you could count them all on one hand. Pulling out a packet of vacuum-sealed veg-meat, watching it glisten sickeningly in the light, you turned and gave the Mandalorian a pointed look as if you were waiting for an explanation.

He was trying so hard not to come off as sheepish. But the hands-on-the-hips stance and his visor turned away from you said otherwise. He'd never had anyone come on board and inspect his pantry hold before, and while he didn't think at the time it would bother him, it was completely different now that you were down on one knee, thinly-veiled disgust on your face at the food options, looking up at him with an intense expression that could surely bore a hole through his armor. Not even the kid staring at the shelves like he had an enormous buffet in front of him softened any of the situation.

"I don't know how you live like this." You lightly tossed the veg-meat back onto the shelf, standing up and righting your clothing. Mando flipped the switch to close the panel back up, the child drooping disappointedly now that everything was shut away. He crossed his arms defensively just as you rested a fist on your hip, looking down at the child and exhaling through your nose.

"Looks like I've got my work cut out for me, huh, kid."

He tilted his head questioningly at you.

"Your 'work'?" You could hear the edge of offense in his tone.

You turned that piercing gaze back to him for a moment.

"Besides being unable to find something to make myself a bed from, and needing some kind of change of clothes, your pantry is appalling and barely suitable for one adult. Let alone two plus a small child. You told me to help out, so I'm going to help out. When we stop for fuel, I'm going to go find a market." You tapped the pouch on your belt that contained your credits forcefully enough to make the loose pieces jingle, emphasizing that you had your own means of payment.

Mando sighed. He was the one that suggested you stay, so it was nobody's fault but his own that things were unfolding like this. He might as well resign himself to it.

You knew Mando would go for a backwater world of some sort, so you didn't get your hopes up for your options at any markets. Mando let you empty out a rucksack he had sitting in the hold and use it to carry what you might find. He watched as you briskly walked away with determination, as he stood at the ship dock preparing to get the Razor Crest hooked up and refueled. The Child wanted very badly to go with you, but he forbade it and made him stay in his pod, only an arm's length away and hopefully high enough off the ground that he wouldn't try to climb out and toddle off. The small green child pouted in his blankets, staring out in the direction he had last seen you.

Mando was mystified as to why the kid took such a liking to you. Sure, he seemed friendly enough towards anyone he was allowed to interact with (not that there were many, considering his status as a bounty target), but the way he was drawn to you was different. It was almost like he recognized you from somewhere, though you both knew that wasn't possible. In all honesty, he may have been more reluctant to offer you a place on board if the kid hadn't acted the way he did, and just kept his end of helping you after losing your entire livelihood to dropping you off at a nearby planet of your choosing.

It wasn't that he didn't like you, quite the opposite. In the few times he'd gone to you for information for hunting down certain quarry, you were nothing but helpful. You asked just the right questions, made sure he knew about the societies on the planets he was going to be investigating, and also gave him what you had about lesser-known places that would make for good hiding spots. You didn't ever seem afraid of him, like others could be when a fully-armored Mandalorian carrying who knows what kind of firepower came looking for something. You treated him like any other person, maybe one you'd come to consider a friend, based on how with each further visit you'd remember what kind of things he liked to know, or just useful things in general, and tailor your information packets to it. He didn't really need to know things like which fueling stations were more suited for a ship like his and had better overall service, or which markets had more selection on weaponry for restocking purchases, or which food places were better and which to avoid at all costs. But they were there when he'd plug the data stick into his navigation computer. He got the impression you didn't do that for just any client, without an extra charge at least.

You said it yourself, you didn't know much about taking care of kids. Mando didn't, either. But two people trying to figure it out was better than one stumbling around blindly. It helped to have someone the kid liked, too. And even if it didn't directly involve watching out for him, he knew you'd make yourself useful with upkeep of the Razor Crest and any other odd jobs that might need tending to.

The ship refueling took some time, but you still weren't back by the time it was finished. Mando went to the nearest food stand at the dock to buy something for the kid to eat in the meantime - a simple bowl of Mando and the kid went inside, keeping the hold ramp down and simply waiting inside, him using that time to maintain some of his more neglected firearms in the armory. He got lost in the muscle memory of taking apart each weapon, cleaning its individual pieces, and slotting everything back together to move on to the next one.

The child chirping and standing up to clutch the edge of his pram signaled your return. Mando looked up from where he was cleaning one of his blasters, probably the fourth or fifth since he started, and there you were, walking up the ramp with the borrowed rucksack stuffed full and a few bundles under your arm. You gave him a small nod of acknowledgement and made a beeline for what he could only assume was the spot you'd chosen to be "yours", dumping the bundles unceremoniously onto the floor - except one, which you held almost gingerly - and swinging the rucksack down on top of them with a huff. You plunked down beside the pile, pulling your legs up at an angle and resting your head against the hull, exhaling dramatically.

"Can we get out of here now?"

Mando had to smirk under his helmet at how comically tired you seemed. He couldn't blame you, he felt the same way after he had to deal with purchase-related errands. Standing, he put away the gun he'd been working on and shut away the armory, and issued the command for the ramp to close.

The child clambered out of his pram onto a nearby storage crate, slipping to the ground and toddling over to you and your pile of spoils. You lifted your head to watch what he was doing. Mando watched him, too, to be sure he didn't get into anything he shouldn't. Of everything he could easily try to pick through, the kid of course went straight for the bundle you still held in your lap, reaching out but not quite touching the fabric. It was oddly puffy at the top, and tied around the bottom with some sort of twine.

"Wait, wait. I'll show you, but no touching."

You undid the twine, and in doing so Mando got a glimpse of an earthenware material underneath the fabric. You shook the fabric loose, and swept it off by gripping the corner. There, balanced in the palm of your hand, was a tiny engraved pot. Inside the pot sat an equally-tiny, gnarled tree, capped with sprays of delicately bristling greenery.

You tilted the plant towards the child, wide eyes taking in the sight. A tiny claw reached up, but halted and slowly lowered at the last moment. The corner of your mouth lifted at the kid remembering to behave.

You glanced up at the Mandalorian, who you realized had been watching the interaction the whole time. You looked quickly down at the plant and picked slightly at the gravel in the pot, almost bashfully, like you were mildly ashamed of what you'd bought.

"It's not real, but I can pretend it is." Your voice was quiet. Mando remembered the sizable collection of plants that took up an entire corner of your living quarters he had broken into hardly a day or two ago. He felt a pang of something in his chest, slightly different than the sense of guilt he felt towards your situation. Sympathy, maybe?

The synthetic plant was carefully placed on top of a storage container, far from the edges so it wouldn't fall. Your quiet demeanor suddenly shifted, and a new focus appeared as you stood, grabbing the rucksack by its handle, and made your way over to open up the pantry hold and begin unpacking its contents.

"I mostly picked up things that can be indefinitely stored, so no worries about anything spoiling." You began to pull out your purchases and put them away, careful to make sure the kid didn't scoop anything up. He was too busy being enamored with watching your hand disappear into the rucksack and pull out new item after item, like you were a magician. You said the name of each thing as you put it away on either the shelves or in the conservator: Anoat oats, shroomchips, kukuia nuts, dehydrated nuna egg, jhen honey, Kodari rice, jarred garlic, Corellian buckwheat noodles... and then some vacuum-packed fresh items; redsprouts, cuts of dewback, some kind of flatbread you weren't able to immediately identify but thought looked good, and-

"- I don't know if this is the same as what you had before, but I got more of these, too." You said as you set down a package of sausages.

Truth be told, Mando wasn't at all a picky eater, and had been content with the rations he lived off of. But watching the array of ingredients fill the shelves had him feeling like he hadn't eaten right in a very long time. And he was oddly looking forward to what you might have planned.

You put away the last of the contents, mostly flavor additives, and a clear container of nuctrose crystals for the kid, given he behaved. Shutting the panel to the pantry hold, you stood back up and took the last contents from the rucksack - an odd bound stack of something, and a few styluses. They were placed next to the little tree on the crate. You shook out the rucksack so it was flat, and handed it back to the Mandalorian with a small thanks. He took it from you without a word and hung it on a hook nearby. You went back to your other bundles and began unpacking them, shaking out the bedroll and beginning to situate it.

"Once I'm done with all this, I'm going to make something to eat. Any requests?"

Mando could only shrug vaguely. You looked off to the side, eyes darting as you no doubt mentally ran through your various options now that nothing was off the table.

"Okay, then. I'll try not to make anything too awful."

The kid was at your side the moment you'd mentioned food, and was looking up at you with wide, excited eyes. You looked down at him awkwardly, movements slowing. He stared back, audibly swallowing.

"...he's not going to leave me alone, is he."

The Mandalorian shook his head, crossing his arms and leaning against the hull, amused expression hidden beneath his helmet. You suddenly felt extremely self-conscious about simply existing in that spot and Mando standing there like he was, watching your every move. He wasn't even doing anything malicious, he was just... looking. Maker, you couldn't do anything other than glance up at him for a half-second before you had to rip your gaze back to what you'd been doing before, hoping he didn't notice. This wasn’t even your standard inability to maintain a shared gaze, this was something else. It was the armor, you told yourself. You'd always thought the Mandalorian style of armor was beautifully crafted, but there was something so different about admiring it from an image and having a flesh-and-blood being inside a suit of it, standing like that just a few feet away, staring you down.

Mando, however, didn't read any of your behavior as being flustered - just uncomfortable that you were being stared at. He could appreciate that, more than you might think. As much as he might find it interesting to watch whatever else you were going to do, he knew it was more important to allow you some space. He righted himself and strode over to the ladder.

"Let the kid help you out."

He said it so matter-of-factly over his shoulder before he began to ascend that there was no doubt it wasn't a request.

You blinked, and looked down at the child. Mando needed to concentrate on piloting. So it fell to you to be on kid-watching duty. The kid blinked back up at you, ears pricked and head tilted. You moved to unwrap the next bundle.

”Alright, kiddo. Let me finish getting all this set up, then we’ll start on dinner.”

The excited squeal as the kid toddled over to the pantry hold panel to wait for you made you chuckle.

If it wasn't the aroma of cooking that got his attention, it was definitely the sound of you urgently scolding the kid with what almost sounded like terror in your voice. Mando quickly set the controls to autopilot and rushed over to the ladder, not even using the rungs to get down to the hold. The sudden sight and sound of an entire Mandalorian slamming to the floor from above startled you so badly you nearly knocked over your little makeshift kitchen area.

His gaze landed on the child, who was staring back at him with unblinking eyes as he smacked his lips like he had just been eating something. Just out of the kid's reach, was a piece of a food wrapper, covered in teeth marks and saliva, pinched between your fingers. You had a makeshift waste bin in the other hand, into which you flung the offending piece of trash. The look on your face was nothing short of disgust.

"Does he... often... try to eat garbage?"

Mando sighed deeply, swearing to himself under his breath. He should have warned you before he just left like he did to go man the controls.

"It's not the worst thing he's tried to eat." The child’s ears flicked, a hint of smugness on his face.

You chuckled nervously, setting the waste bin out of reach of the child. You wiped your hands on a nearby rag, as Mando approached to pick the child up and move him a little bit away.

The set-up you had was fairly impressive, considering what was available. You'd taken the old heating plate out and set it on top of a storage container, and repurposed a larger rations tin intended to be heated up anyways into an extra pan, so you had more to work with besides the old pot. You'd pulled out all the utensils he had and had them laid out on top of a loose scrap of fabric, and a cluster of ingredients on another. The cutting board looked new, you must've bought that earlier. The pot had something boiling in it, and the pan, while it looked empty, had something browning in the bottom that smelled delicious.

"Do you have any knives I can use?" You started to inspect one of the packages of meat you'd purchased earlier. "I need to dice some things."

The question wasn't did he have knives, the question was which ones was he willing to part with for kitchen use?

He paused, wandering over to the armory and peering pensively inside. You leaned over to try and watch what he was doing. The kid in turn watched you, no doubt hoping you might drop what you had so he could scarf it down.

Mando leaned into the armory to pick something out from its depths, and when he returned he displayed several small blades. They weren't all that tiny, but his broad hands made them look even smaller than they should be. You ignored that as best as you could. Your eyes flashed amongst the different blades, and you carefully pointed at two - a butterfly knife, and a small hunting knife. You didn’t dare just reach out and grab them yourself. With great dexterity Mando maneuvered them into one hand and the rest into the other, offering them to you with the blades flat in his hand and the handles presented. You carefully took them and set them beside your other utensils. Wordlessly he went to put the rest of the knives away.

You expected him to return to the cockpit, but he didn't. Instead, he moved to sit in the opening of the hole in the wall that was his bunk. You raised your eyebrows at him questioningly.

"Making sure you don't completely ruin my knives. Or let the kid eat more trash."

You huffed at that. Well, back to work.

The kid had wandered closer again and was intently watching as you prepared the food, cubing the meat, tossing it into the makeshift pan with a satisfying sizzle.

Mando never really cooked much for himself besides prepping a basic bowl of mealgrain with whatever ration packs he had on hand. Sometimes he'd build a fire whenever he was camped out on a planet's surface and roast skewers of food over the fire, he knew how to hunt and gather and field-dress, but nothing extravagant. Watching you work was something else. It was mesmerizing, the way you maneuvered between the "pan" and the pot you'd removed from the heat, adding whatever seasoning or extra ingredients with no hesitation, completely focused on what you were doing.

At some point, you picked a piece of the cooked meat out of the "pan" with a fork, blowing on it a few times before picking a corner off to taste-test it. You looked deep in thought as you mulled over what else it might need. With a shrug it seemed you decided it was alright as it was. You lowered the fork towards the child.

"Here, try."

The speed at which he snatched the morsel off the fork and downed it was incredible, you didn't even think he had time to taste it. The shine in his eyes and his ears perking up told you, however, that he absolutely wanted more. You gave him a pointed look.

"No, no more handouts. It's almost done, anyways."

The kid turned his head to look back at Mando, his face begging him to tell you that he needed more. He shook his head slowly, biting back a chuckle at how the kid pouted.

"Okay, I think it's done."

Somehow, in the time he had taken his eyes off of you to simply tell the kid "no", you had combined the contents of the pot and "pan" and were separating it out into portions - two of the larger bowls, and one of the smaller bowls that may have been a mug for the child. He could see better what it was - looked to be some sort of hearty stir-fry, the rice and meat you'd bought earlier being the most obvious part of the dish. Mando had already forgotten what you'd purchased in the way of vegetables and other seasonings, but the finished product was colorful and looked very appetizing, especially with the way the steam trailed slowly into the air from its surface.

The kid was visibly excited, bouncing on his little feet, and though he wouldn’t admit it out loud, Mando was looking forward to trying it too. What he wasn't looking forward to, though, was having to explain to you that he couldn't take his helmet off to eat, that he'd have to take his helping and go somewhere else where you couldn't see him. You'd never seen him with his helmet off, even in his own ship, so it only made sense that you'd ask about it eventually. He didn't know how much of the Mandalorian Creed you were familiar with. He expected more than most, considering your former occupation and being fairly savvy to various cultural practices, but he couldn't be sure.

"So, uh.. this might be weird..."

He braced himself internally, anticipating something being said about his helmet.

"Would you mind if I ate, uh... over there?" You jabbed a thumb towards the semi-walled off area you'd set up since he was last down there.

...he wasn't expecting that.

His confused stare probably only came off as a cold one through his helmet.

"It sounds stupid, but I have a hard time eating if I feel like I'm being watched. So that's where I'll be."

He nodded slowly. Well, that wasn't what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn't a bad thing. It made things a little easier, at least, with him not having to give the Talk just yet.

You took your helping in one hand, used your free hand to maneuver the smaller bowl into the child's grabbing hands, and sheepishly left to your secluded area, ducking down to sit in your newly-arranged space.

The bedroll was laid out, a pile of folded clothes sitting near the foot of it. You'd located some smaller crates, one acting as a makeshift stool, another as a low table, where you sat your bowl down for a moment to get situated. In addition to the larger crates and the dip in the hull acting as a wall, you'd also tacked up a sheet on each "side" of the hull to act as a curtain - not wide enough to completely block off the hall, but enough that there was at least more of a definitive barrier that made you feel enclosed from the rest of it. The tiny synthetic tree sat perched on the low crate-table beside some of the other odds and ends you'd procured at the market. It wasn't much, but you felt less like a temporary stowaway like this.

Once you settled down, you picked your bowl back up and were about to take a bite when a familiar green head poked around the curtain. Once he spotted you, he turned back as if he was looking to Mando for permission, and then he trundled over, his own bowl carefully clutched between his hands.

Try as you might to form words to tell the kid to please go sit with Mando, or anywhere else, every sentence dried up in your throat before you could finish it. It didn't seem like he was listening, anyways, the way he didn't even so much as glance at you while you tried to speak. He was too busy getting himself settled down on the floor, and then lifting the bowl to his face to continue eating, sticky eating sounds filling the air as he shoveled spoonfuls into his mouth. That alone was enough to make you stop trying to tell him to go. It was almost shocking how noisy the kid could be with his food. You watched with something between fascination and the slightest bit of revulsion, slowly taking bites of your own food. He finished faster than you'd anticipated, greedily trying to lick the inside of the bowl to get the last morsels stuck to the sides, his eating utensil forgotten. Considering what you saw Mando's food supply was before you came on board, you didn't blame the kid for downing it like he did.

You, however, couldn't quite finish your meal. You had done your best with what you could, but something about the finished product left something to be desired in your opinion. You always had been critical of your own cooking, and knew what you were going for versus the actual outcome. With a brief glance towards the opening of your space, almost as if you expected Mando to appear, you took the kid's bowl and scraped what remained of your meal into it. He was almost vibrating with excitement when you handed it back to him, and you grimaced slightly as he started to scarf it down. Did his species get the equivalent of heartburn?

“That good, huh?”

He peered at you over the edge of his dish, tiny mouth working. He’d made fast work of it, putting the now-clean bowl on the ground. His bright eyes now lingered on your own bowl, like somehow he might find more food in it even though he just watched you empty its contents moments ago. Your morbid curiosity got the better of you and you held it out for him to take. The kid quickly took it from you, and with no hesitation, began to lick the inside to get the most out of it. You could feel a grimace trying to creep its way onto your face. The kid was cute, no doubt about that, but this was still a little gross to be watching.

A light rap on the side of the hull caught the attention of both of you, and there stood the Mandalorian in the gap between the hull wall and the curtain, empty dish held almost forgotten by his side. The kid greeted his caregiver with a small, yet surprisingly big for his size, burp. You swear you heard a quiet snort from Mando’s direction.

“You’d think he hasn’t eaten in days.” You nodded at the child, who was inspecting the bowl for anything else he may have missed. Mando shrugged lightly.

“He’s always excited for food.” He semi-consciously began turning his own bowl in his hands, still watching the little green one’s antics.

“Well, at least he liked it. It didn’t turn out quite like I wanted it to. Hopefully it was still okay.” While Mando had clearly finished his helping, with what he had apparently been living off of before, it was a fair assumption on your part that he didn’t care much for how things tasted - as long as they were edible. You really did try to go out of your way to make things palatable and not just edible, generally, so when you felt like you slipped up, you also felt the need to apologize.

“I didn’t think there was anything wrong with it.”

Truth be told, whatever you had done, it was one of the better meals Mando had had in a good while. Unfortunately for Mando, words were not at all his strong suit.

“I guess I’ll take that as a compliment.” You said with a brief smile. With a groan you got to your feet, stooping to gather the dish-ware and utensils you and the child had used. “These can be washed in the same place I got water from behind the refresher, right--?”

“I’ll do it.” You froze in your tracks when Mando stopped you and took the things from your hands. “I’ll get the other things you used, too.” He motioned vaguely back towards where your kitchen set-up had been.

“You sure? I made the mess, I’d be okay with cleaning it up.”

The prolonged stare from the unreadable visor told you that this was not up for debate.

“...okay, if you insist.” You let yourself sink back to where you’d been sitting. The Mandalorian disappeared from your field of view beyond the curtain, and the sound of him gathering up the rest of the kitchenware and making his way to the washing area made its way to your ears. There was a quick-cleaning rack back there for exactly this kind of thing, and you could hear him loading it.

Never in your life had you expected to picture someone as stoic as this bounty hunter, doing something as domestic as washing dishes. You bit the inside of your lip to suppress snickering to yourself about it. The kid looked questioningly at you, head tilted. That alone was enough for you to crack a smile and snort.

That snort morphed into a yawn, and you realized just how tired you were. It had been a long day, dealing with people at the market, setting up your new “room”, and cooking a meal from scratch. Not to mention, the turmoil of losing your home was still a raw wound. You noticed the heavy feeling beneath your eyes that told you it was well past time for a good rest.

“Well, kid, I think I’m going to lie down for a bit.” You nonchalantly began taking your boots off, other items that would undoubtedly be uncomfortable following - your belt, your wrist pieces, some of your outerwear that would get too warm too quickly once you dozed off. The child curiously watched as you placed these things in a small pile by the crate acting as a table.

With a sigh that almost sounded like you were deflating, you laid down on the bedroll and turned onto your side. It wasn’t anything like your old bed. You hadn’t expected it to be, but the difference between your old broken-in bed and this imitation of a cot laid out on a hard, metal floor, really drove home that things were different now, with no going back. You closed your eyes, exhaling softly through your nose, the melancholy settling in now that you were more or less alone with your thoughts.

You felt a light touch on your temple, and opened your eyes to have your field of vision filled with a big pair of dark eyes staring back. The child had wandered closer and had touched his tiny clawed hand to your face, and was looking at you with concern, as if he could sense those emotions that were starting to roll around your head. You gave him a thin-lipped smile, reaching out to pat him on the head.

“I’m okay, kid, just tired.”

He made a small noise that sounded almost sad, and you didn’t miss the slight droop in his ears as he gave you a pat in return. Your smile turned a little more genuine at that.

You closed your eyes again, and quicker than you’d ever managed to before, you drifted off.

Mando took his time putting things away. When it was just himself, and the kid, there was a lot less clean-up involved. With the quality of what you’d made, though, extra clean-up was a reasonable trade-off.

Clattering noises from your corner caught his attention. It didn’t sound like organized rummaging, more like the noise made when a womp rat was going through things looking for food. He sighed. It must be the kid up to something. Why you weren’t stopping him, he didn’t know.

He put extra weight into his footsteps to make sure the kid could hear him coming, and hoped that would be enough to get him to stop. As he pushed the curtain out of the way, he was met with the sight of the child quickly turning to make eye contact - the pouches of your belt clutched in his hands with the rest of the strap tossed over his arm, and what must have once been a more organized pile of your other accessories messily pushed around. And then there was you, laid out on your bedroll, eyes closed as you slept.

Even in sleep you managed to look exhausted, but at peace. Your form was curled in loosely on itself, somewhere between defensive and haphazard, like you had fallen in that position. The crease between your eyebrows had smoothed out and was nearly invisible. You breathed deeply through your nose, almost snoring. You had a hand wedged between your face and pillow, squishing your cheek up and distorting your features.

Mando had seen plenty of people asleep. It was usually a restless sleep, followed by waking in a state of terror when they realized there was a blaster pointed at them and he was there to take them in for a bounty.

Seeing you in a genuine state of relaxation, completely vulnerable, was jarring. He wasn’t used to it. He didn’t even let himself get to that point when he rested.

With everything you’d dealt with lately, though, you deserved to have a good, deep sleep. You were safe here on the Razor Crest with him.

The Mandalorian shook himself mentally from watching your sleeping form. It was strange to be staring like he was. He bent down on one knee to untangle the child from your belt and lift him carefully. The little one cooed, looking up at the armored man questioningly.

“Come on, kid. Let’s give them some space.” He stood back up, shifting the child into one arm and leaving as quietly as he could. The little one peeked over Mando’s shoulder at you until you were out of his line of sight, and then swiveled around to watch where he and the bounty hunter were headed.

Very carefully, the child was maneuvered into his sling so Mando could climb up the ladder to the cockpit with both hands. Once on his feet again, the child was deposited into his pram, and Mando took his place in the pilot’s seat.

Now that there was fuel in the tank and supplies on board for everyone, it was time to get back to finding somewhere to hide out.

#the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #mando x reader #gender neutral reader #din djarin #mando #reader insert

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25centsoda · 4 years

Text

An Unintended Side Effect, Part 2/?

This time when Luke woke up his mind was clear and the Force came readily when he called. He breathed deeply, savoring the clear connection to the energy of the universe for a moment before drawing shields tight around himself, ensuring Vader couldn’t reach him. He sat up, scrubbed his eyes with the heel of his hands, and sighed, looking out over the room.

He really was stuck on the Executor with his father, wasn’t he?

Well. Nothing for it. He would have to find a way to escape, as soon as possible. He had friends and a Rebellion to get back to, after all, and he would not turn to the dark side.

Luke stood and stretched, again noting the lush carpet and wondering just how out of it he’d been the previous day to not have noticed where he was immediately. Now able to actually process things, he took in the room properly. Deep red carpet, grey durasteel walls, no closet that he could see but three doors broke up the monotony of the walls, along with...was that…

Luke crossed the room in wonder, staring open-mouthed at the view of the stars outside his viewport. A viewport, in starship quarters!

After admiring the view for an indeterminate amount of time, Luke mentally shook himself and went to explore the rest of the room. On a small nightstand by the bed he hadn’t noticed before was a chrono, brightly declaring the time and date on its face. Luke grimaced. Two days since he’d seen his friends, what they must be thinking about his disappearance… Had they seen Vader take him? Or did they think something else happened to him?

One of the doors led to ‘fresher, fully stocked with anything he could need, plus water settings in the shower. He looked critically at the long handle on the shower door; could he rip that off and use it as a weapon? Something to come back to later. Maybe the mirror shards would make good improvised weapons as well, if it came to that.

The second door led to the closet he’d been looking for yesterday, but of course instead of Rebel fatigues it was filled with black outfits, both with and without the Imperial cog stitched to a sleeve or breast pocket. From here Luke took a pair of boots - new ones were hard to come by, in the Rebellion, best to take them whenever you can - and a belt with weapons holsters.

The third led into a hallway, which ended in another door. Luke looked back to the door he came from; looked like it could be locked from the outside. Lovely. He tucked that piece of information away, resolving to escape the ship before it became something he had to work around.

The door at the end of the hallway opened as he approached, into a larger room containing a couch and desk, lots of open floor space, and another door with a large keypad next to it, the small light on top glowing firmly red. He couldn’t quite get that open on his own, it was too complex a mechanism to tease open with the Force without knowing anything about how it was supposed to work - likely Vader had deeply considered the place he was going to stash his son - but he could sense the energy of two Stormtroopers just outside it.

Banging on the door, using the Force to make each blow as loud as possible, Luke shouted, “Hey! Please, I need help!”

“Quiet in there,” came the reply.

“Please!”

Luke could only hope Vader had given them instructions to keep him not just alive but well, otherwise this wouldn’t work and he’d have to try something else.

His suspicions were confirmed moments later when the door slid open to show two Stormtroopers as expected. He smiled.

Perfect.

---------

Vader kneeled before a hologram of the Emperor in his private chambers.

“And the boy is cooperative?” the Emperor asked.

“Yes, master. At the very least, he has not yet opposed me.”

“Hmm. Ensure that he does not. Remember that you have already failed to bring him to heel once; I will not be so forgiving of another failure. Next time, the boy will come straight to me, and I will put him to rights.”

Vader strengthened his shields and held himself still, even as Palpatine’s words brought a most unwelcome image to his mind. His anger blazed, and he fed the flames behind his shields, vowing to never let Luke near Palpatine if he could help it. In this the son would not follow the father; he wouldn’t allow it.

“I understand, my master.”

“Good. I’ve allowed you to keep the boy, but you must not neglect your duty to wipe out the rest of that pathetic rebellion.”

“They shall not be a plague on our galaxy for much longer, master.”

“See that they aren’t, Lord Vader. Dismissed.”

The hologram winked out and Vader stood, wincing at the strain holding such a position for long periods of time caused his prosthetics. He ached for the day he could give the empire he’d built to his son, but they were in no position to attack Palpatine yet. That day would have to wait until he could find a way to train his son without the Emperor finding out, for he had no doubt that as soon as they began Palpatine would find an excuse to spirit Luke away from him, preventing them from joining together to defeat him.

Stalking out of his rooms into the hallways of the Executor proper, Vader found Piett and said, “Admiral, report.”

Admiral Piett snapped a salute and fell into step with his commander. “My lord, we will be arriving at Tarra soon to refuel. All aspects of the ship are running smoothly, and after refueling we should be en-route to Coruscant within the cycle.”

“And what of my...guest?”

“The last report I saw some fifteen minutes ago said all was quiet on that front, my lord. He’s not been an issue.”

As soon as Piett finished speaking, the hum of stun shots echoed down the corridor along with aborted screams. Vader threw his awareness out in the Force, seeking his son’s bright energy, but it was like looking at the surface of a lake in the sunlight; the image shimmered and flickered away from him, impossible to make out. He cursed and began moving quickly - not running, Sith Lords did not run - towards the quarters his son was housed in. The boy could hardly have been awake much longer than an hour, how could he already be causing trouble?

By the time Vader arrived at the door outside his son’s quarters, the boy was already gone, leaving both troopers who had been posted outside collapsed on the floor in his wake, presumably the recipients of the stun shots he’d heard. He growled low, the vocoder in his suit picking it up as crackling static, and tried to reach for his son again. This time, he was able to pick up a sense of the boy in the vague direction of the hangars. Of course he would immediately try to reach the ships.

Suddenly Vader remembered the ship was about to dock at a planet, and his heart seized in fear. If Luke was still loose when that happened, he would actually stand a chance of getting off the ship.

“Lock down all hangars, no one will leave this ship until I give the order,” Vader said into his comlink, moving to follow the faint light of his son’s Force signature.

There is no escape, my son, he sent along their fledgling bond. He felt Luke flinch in response, and smiled in satisfaction under his mask. The boy’s shields had slipped just enough in that flinch to give him a better location.

“Send a detachment of troops to Hangar Bay Three, and have them set their weapons to stun. A prisoner is loose; he cannot be allowed to escape.”

Vader strolled into the aforementioned hangar bay, casting his awareness out, scanning the room for his wayward son. The boy’s shields deflected his senses, but it was that refraction of light that gave him away, a distortion in the Force in a corner of the hangar.

“It is no use hiding, young one,” he boomed. “Come out before I am forced to stun you.”

The spot of refracted light in the weave of the Force shifted, drawing tighter about itself, but it was no use. Vader had already located it.

He motioned to a small group of troopers, directing them to surround the crate that Luke was hidden behind, and they took up positions in a loose semi-circle, guns aimed at the crate.

After a moment, Luke emerged, scowling, his hands behind his head. Without a word, two troopers surged forward and none too gently dragged his hands down behind his back, clasping his wrists in binders. He purposefully avoided his father’s gaze as he was marched back to his quarters. Vader watched him go.

----

Luke broke out of his quarters twice more, managing to disable the lock on his door, and after the sickening way the boy’s head hit the durasteel floor collapsing from a stun shot the second time, Vader decided he couldn’t take any more risks.

His son was a lot quieter and easy to contain with a drug tailor-designed for Jedi coursing through his veins, living in Vader’s quarters.

-------

Luke was falling asleep again, leaning against his father on the couch as various Imperial servants flitted about the room taking his measurements, proposing outfit and fabric ideas. He tuned them out. Vader was just going to choose what he felt was best anyway, and Palpatine got final say. Luke had picked out several of the main fabrics. That was enough.

Without realizing it, he had fallen completely asleep. When he woke, it was to Vader gently pulling him into a sitting position and beginning to apply a thick white powder to his face. Luke blearily looked down at the table filled with cosmetics, then tried to lean his head on one hand, but he was prevented from doing so by Vader pushing him back up.

“You’ll smear the Nubian makeup, Luke,” he chided.

Luke made a face at him. “I wouldn’t be so tired if you didn’t keep drugging me, father. Either let me sleep or let me think clearly.”

“It’s this or giving you to Palpatine for training, my son, and neither of us want that for you. Especially in light of your many failed escape attempts.”

Luke made another face, then an effort to sit up straight and stay awake. At least being paraded around as the Imperial Prince sounded like a cushy job…

“Why am I being styled after the Naboo, anyway?” he asked, hoping a conversation would help him stay awake. Vader paused, frozen, and Luke could just pick up the edge of a maelstrom of emotion from his father before the Force slipped from his grasp again and he sighed quietly.

“It was your...mother’s home planet.” Vader said carefully. “As well as Palpatine’s. He believes using the style will serve to endear him to the galaxy, and use you to evoke his own image.”

Luke hummed, closing his eyes for a minute. Vader prodded him gently with a tendril of the Force and as he opened his eyes again Luke thought longingly of being able to do more than passively sense it, himself. He would throw all this finery about the room and steal a ship, return to Han and Leia and Chewie, R2 and 3PO.

Deciding he definitely needed something to focus on to keep himself awake, Luke tried to reach out to the Force himself, clumsily brushing against his father’s signature. He felt the edge of his father’s amusement and Vader reaching back to him in response, like holding their hands up to opposite sides of glass.

“My Lord, you are needed in a meeting about introducing the Imperial Prince,” Piett said, shattering Luke’s meager focus. He sighed and gave up, leaning his head on a hand while Vader too distracted to tell him not to.

“Why?” Vader demanded, standing. “He is to be announced in a few hours, what more is there to discuss?”

“There are some last minute security concerns they want to go over, my Lord.”

Vader scoffed, then looked down at his son for a long moment, thinking. Looking back at Piett, he said, “I leave you in charge of the boy, Admiral. Stay here with him and ensure he does not attempt another escape.” Piett seemed like he very much doubted that would be a concern, but nodded anyway. To Luke, Vader said “I will return as soon as I can and help you finish getting ready, my son.”

“Whatever,” Luke said.

With a sigh, Vader swept out of the room.

#my writing star wars fanfic fanfiction luke skywalker darth vader admiral piett palpatine #an unintended side effect #no beta we die like men

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mythicalcanary-literature · 3 years

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FanFiction - Crossing the Stars

Hetalia (c) Hidekaz Himaruya

FTL: Faster Than Light (c) Subset Games

[CHAPTER LIST]

Author’s Note: This FanFiction is a crossover between the sci-fi strategy game ‘FTL: Faster Than Light’ by Subset Games and the manga/anime called ‘Hetalia’ by Hidekaz Himaruya. The story will follow closely to the events of the rougue-like gameplay in FTL and the human characters will be replaced with the human versions of the national personifications in ‘Hetalia’. This is a fun personal project and it requires no knowledge of either fandom to enjoy this story. I’d encourage checking the original sources out though! Use of screenshots in this FanFiction are to supplement the storytelling to help plot the course of our heroes’ journey in the universe. Whatever the outcome of the gameplay I base this story on (as each playthrough is very unique) will be translated into the plot of this story. i.e. If the spaceship gets damaged, it gets damaged in the story. If a character dies in the game, they’re dead in this fiction. (Please note that I find this kind of storytelling entertaining to play/write and I plan to do more in the future if time allows!)

Chapter 1

The Federation was struggling with the advancing Rebel fleet. One lone ship carried some vital information that could turn the tides of the war and the Federation allied Star Ship APH was going to be their champion.

At the helm was Captain Alfred Jones, a spry young American whom fit the Golden Boy persona to a tee. Sure, he wore square-rimmed glasses but he was still awesome. Don’t let his cute blue-eyed, blond haired, ripped body mislead you! He had the courage to lead his crew to the very end. He was the youngest of his crew and had a Hero Complex but his heart helped him to make some decent moral choices. His friends might disagree and say that his Hero Complex leads to some very immoral choices, but how could he be wrong? He’s great!

Stationed at weapons was his best friend from the academy called Arthur Kirkland. He was an officer from England and was keen to aid in an international project. Arthur was rather lean in build with messy blond hair that matched his sassy personality. His piercing emerald eyes held a wisdom beyond his years. He was tasked with weaponry because of his strategic skills and fearless judgement. Unfortunately his friends and colleagues often made fun of him for his bushy eyebrows, apparent inability to cook, and his obsession with the occult.

Last but not least was the Frenchman Francis Bonnefoy, a flamboyant friend of Arthur’s and on-and-off enemy of his. Much like Alfred, don’t let his looks fool you! Francis’ long, golden hair, sea blue eyes and wispy blond beard could charm many but he was a calculated thinker. He graduated with flying colours in engineering, which is why he was manning the FTL (Faster Than Light) Drive in the engine room.

The blond trio were in their twenties, young and wise together. If they could avoid their normal bickering maybe they would survive this after all!

“This is the awesome Captain Jones speakin’! Get your butts over to the Bridge, we need to figure out where we’re goin’,” the voice on the PA system called in a chirpy American accent.

“We’re already here, dipshit,” Arthur countered as he and Francis joined him on deck. “We’ve best be quick about this, the Rebel fleet is gaining speed.” He pulled up the Beacon Map on screen and surveyed their options. “Unfortunately we have no data on the properties of each beacon towards the exit into the next sector, but hopefully we can acquire that as we go along. The faster we get to the exit the better, our mission is too important to mess around.”

Alfred was sipping some coffee. “Psh, who’s messin’? I won’t lead you dudes astray! Hero’s promise!”

Francis sighed. “Let’s avoid battles if we can, ze stress gives me wrinkles.”

“We’re in a civilian sector! How bad could it be?”

Arthur glared at him. “You’ve best be joking. This area will be littered with Rebel scouts. We need to get a move on.”

Alfred dumped his coffee cup in the rubbish bin and winked. “Fine. Back to your stations! Off to our first stop! Warp us there, Francis!”

“Aye, sir,” Francis responded as they all returned to their posts.

The S.S. APH warped to the next beacon. If they were expecting a calming tour of space they were greatly mistaken. Alfred’s voice carried over the announcement system. “Hey, y’all! We have a hostile Rebel Scout attacking a small refuelling outpost here. That’s totes uncool so we’re gonna kick their asses! Kirkland, fire up the weapons! Try out our Burst Laser II on their weapons!”

“Aye, Captain! Locked on and charging.”

The small ship was quick with a laser drone circling the S.S. APH. An alert blared. “Shields took a hit!” Alfred informed them quickly. “Just an ion blast, it’ll be back online soon, stay at your posts!”

Francis’ voice joined him on the announcement channel. “The drone knocked out our door controls!”

“That’s alright, I destroyed their weapons room,” Arthur chipped in confidently.

“Good work, Artie!” Alfred cheered. “Lock on the drones now.”

“Roger that!”

The ship shook and Alfred’s voice called out in concern. “Yo, Francis? Are you okay? The shields are back online but it says the engines got hit.”

“I’m fine, mon ami! Minor damage to ze FTL Drive, I’m working on a fix. I’m not hurt.”

Arthur switched focus from the enemy drones to the helm. He cursed as he saw that the interior scan of the enemy vessel had repaired their weapons in the time his lasers charged. Luckily, his final few attacks took out the scout and they could safely proceed. He sighed with relief. “Danger has passed, let’s pull in the loot.”

Alfred congratulated them over the announcement system. “Well done, dudes! Artie, join me in the door room. We’re not moving on until that system is running again.”

“On my way!”

Francis kept an eye on the FTL charge as his friends repaired the door functions.

Arthur hummed as he replaced some fried wires and Alfred ran the diagnostics. Oddly enough, they didn’t chat the entire time. It was nice working together. “Alright, let’s get back to our posts. Who knows how many of these automated ships are lurking?”

“Just don’t lead us into a black hole or something.”

“Hahahaha! Noted.”

Back on the Bridge, Alfred pulled up his upgrades panel. They had enough scrap to give them a new edge. He grinned as he added an extra unit of power to their reactor and instructed the Frenchman to monitor the upgrade. He also treated himself to a more slick piloting upgrade. Having auto pilot help him to dodge attacks with a fifty percent advantage was too amazing to pass up! “I’m gonna jump to the next beacon. Hold on to your asses!”

The crew warped into the aftermath of a battle. The battlefield was littered with debris from Federation ships and Rebels alike. Their allies had been sadly outnumbered but it was clear they fought valiantly and Captain Jones respected that. He began performing a more detailed scan of the wreckage when his sensors picked up an enemy ship. He gasped and switched on the comms. “To battle stations! We have a Rebel Disrupter in our vicinity!”

The orange spaceship faced the S.S. APH head-on and momentarily knocked out the shields, just in time for the orbiting drone to shoot their door systems.

“Why do they always target our doors?” Francis complained over the communications system. “It’s hardly a vital system.”

“I think it was potluck,” Arthur answered as his return fire knocked out the enemy weapons. “Got the weapons room! I’m going to knock out that drone and then alternate. I wouldn’t put it past them to begin repairs.”

“As you are, Kirkland!” Alfred chimed in as he kept an eye on the enemy movements from the helm. They made quick work of this battle and reaped the rewards. “Good job. You know the drill, Artie. Gotta get those door systems online again. Meet me there.”

“Aye, sir!”

The next beacon jump was nothing special. Beautiful, but nothing interesting. Francis stared out of his nearby airlock windows to view the dancing binary star before they warped to the next point.

“I’m gonna do a triangular-shaped loop here, dudes. I detect a merchant nearby and I wanna see what they have,” Captain Jones announced to his crew.

“Don’t let us get caught by the Rebels, Alfred!” Arthur’s voice warned him.

“They’re not close enough yet. We’ll be fine. We can’t risk running low on supplies and if we can get this hull fixed that would be great.”

“Good point. Carry on.”

The next jump led them to a destroyed space station. Alfred had reservations about this as life signs could be detected onboard. He bit his lip and weighed up the options of investigating. On the one hand, if he could recruit a new member that would be useful! Although he was well aware that doing these kind of investigations could risk damage to his current crew’s lives. After a moment of hesitation he decided not to risk his friends. They collected miscellaneous debris to repurpose for their own mission and jumped them to the next beacon.

The crew assembled on the Bridge to witness the hails of a Rock Scout. The Rockmen were a powerful race but these aliens seemed to be relatively friendly. “Hey, this is Captain Alfred F. Jones of the Federation Star Ship APH. How can we be of service today, my dudes?”

Arthur stared at his friend unhappily. “You could use proper English, idiot. Did you learn nothing from etiquette lessons when dealing with foreign entities?”

“There was nothin’ wrong with my lingo, Artie! Don’t make me pull rank.”

“Insufferable git.”

The Rockman Captain simply stared at these weird humans before gaining their attention. “We could really use some help.”

Alfred saluted. “How can we help?”

“Our FTL navigation system is shot. Can you help us to a nearby station for them to patch us up?”

“Sure thing, rock friend! I’m receiving your fuel down payment right now and I’ll key in the co-ordinates you sent.”

“Thank you. We will be one step behind you, following your jump signatures.”

Francis beamed at his Captain as their communications shut off with their neutral acquaintance. “That was very kind of you, Alfred!”

The American beamed. “If we can help anyone in distress on the way we damn well will! We’re still gonna do our planned route unless we’re forced to change direction, but those Rebel scumbags ain’t gonna take all of us down.”

Francis patted him on the back and returned to his post. Arthur shook his head. “I wish you’d let me deal with the foreign comms once in a while, Alfred, but you did well. I’m heading back to weapons. Try to get our hull fixed at the shop.”

The next jump led them to an outpost that certainly had merchants selling some wares! Arthur and Francis volunteered to be the away party as Alfred kept an eye on the advancing enemy fleet from the Bridge. Their tailing Rockmen friends also spent a bit of time gathering resources for the journey ahead.

Aware of the encroaching danger and their limited supply of scrap to trade for goods, the European representatives agreed that they should spend all of it on an Advanced FTL Navigation Augmentation that would allow them to leap to any previously visited beacon in one hop no matter the distance and the rest of the scrap was allocated to hull repairs. They promptly beamed back on deck and installed their new augment and checked with the Rockmen to make sure that they were ready to follow.

The S.S. APH jumped back the way they came and immediately leapt to the subsequent beacon. It was a tough decision because they had to completely ignore a distress call. The Rebel fleet was advancing far too quickly, they had to put as much distance between them as possible. Alfred felt terrible but his crew and the Rockmen following them depended on forward thinking. There was no helping those in distress right now.

“Rebel transport ship detected!” Captain Jones announced on the communications system. “It doesn’t seem to wanna fight but we can’t take risks. Plus we need the scrap, we’re kinda poor right now.”

“Engaging weapons, Captain!” Arthur replied, powering up the Burst Laser II to lock onto their weapons room. He was going to target the drones next as those little bastards were a pain to deal with.

“CANCEL THAT INTERACTION, KIRKLAND! ATTACK THEIR ENGINES, THEY’RE GONNA JUMP AND WARN THE FLEET!”

“Fuck, really?! Alright, locking both the lasers and missiles onto their FTL Drive!”

It was a tense moment as their weapons warmed up and as they celebrated decimating the enemy FTL Drive, a missile hit their own engines.

“ENGINES, DAMAGE REPORT!” Captain Jones cried.

“Ze bastards damaged ze FTL Drive. I’m working on a fix but my head…”

“Focus, Bonnefoy. You can heal after we destroy these idiots!” Arthur chipped in urgently. He switched the lasers to focus on the Rebel weapons room whilst keeping their Artemis missile locked on the enemy engines.

An explosion rocked the Bridge and Alfred coughed through the smoke. “Dammit, they’re breaking my controls. Kirkland, finish this now.” He gritted his teeth as he repaired the system damage. His wrist was pretty sore but nothing too dire.

“Aye, Captain!”

Fortunately, the battle was over with soon after and repairs could be finished to both the engines and the piloting systems. Jones and Bonnefoy met up in the medbay to heal their injuries before moving on. It was becoming clear how dangerous this mission was.

Back on the Bridge, Alfred instructed his crew that to get to the quest marker they needed to enter a nebula. Nebula zones were always risky as they knocked out sensors but they could also be beneficial in slowing down the enemy fleet. “We’re heading to the nebula. Be prepared for anything! Warp ahead, Bonnefoy!”

This felt like a mistake. Nebulas can be rather peaceful but today was not their day! A plasma storm was active so not only were their sensors dead but their reactor was crippled to half-capacity. The crew was in a mild panic trying to figure out what systems were down as a Rebel automated scout swooped in to cause them hell.

“GUYS, WE HAVE A PROBLEM. SEVERAL PROBLEMS,” Alfred yelled through the communications system.

“No shit!” Arthur shot back as he examined the diagnostics from his post. “Our oxygen isn’t powered, we’ll suffocate!”

“Heat up the weapons, Artie, we have company! I’ll divert power from the medbay to the oxygen room!”

“SHIELDS ARE DOWN AND THEY HAVE A DRONE!” Francis cried from the engine room. “We’re sitting ducks!”

“Divert ALL power from engines to the shields NOW!”

��Aye!”

“I’m locked on their weapons, Captain!” Arthur informed them. “The shield is holding off the drone, thank God.”

“Fire on that and then the drone. Destroy it as quickly as possible.”

“Thanks, Captain Obvious.”

Thankfully the battle was over swiftly. Shaken and worried, Alfred gave the order to drop the shields and restore power to the FTL Drive. They would drop off their Rockmen friends at the next beacon and make their way to the exit.

“Approaching the quest marker,” Captain Jones announced keeping the ship steady, ready for a break. “I’ll inform our little convoy back there.”

“Can one ship in addition to ours really be considered a convoy?” Francis responded contemplatively.

He didn’t receive an answer as the Rockmen’s ship zoomed away without warning and Alfred flipped the Red Alert siren. “AGH! IT’S A TRAP! How could they? We trusted them!” He turned on the power to all systems after they were clear of the plasma storm and glared at the Rebel Disrupter ship. How dare they! HOW. DARE. THEY.

Ignoring the possible melodrama his best friend was stewing in, Arthur had already locked their weapons on the Rebel weapons and drones with their Burst Laser II and the Artemis missile. DIRECT HIT! That’s getting business taken care of. He disabled the Artemis and focused the laser onto enemy shields. He needed no consultation on this strategy, they would not be made fools of! With the shields down and the enemies focused on repairing the damage he dealt to the drones, he fired once again at the weapons room. The Rebel scum would not get a say in this!

VICTORY! The crew celebrated briefly as they collected the remains of their enemy vessel.

“Let’s get the hell outta here,” Alfred urged, turning them towards the next beacon. “I don’t want to try my luck with another one of these guys.”

“We can make it to ze Exit Beacon in two jumps, Captain!” Francis informed him over the comms. “With ze Rebels gaining ground we shouldn’t take anymore detours.”

“Agreed, buddy! Full speed ahead!”

The Rebels were determined to control this star system! The subsequent beacon greeted them with another Rebel Rigger patrol. It stood between them and the exit. This could not be tolerated.

“I’m way ahead of you, Captain!” Arthur called over the communications. “I’ve locked on their weapons and drone rooms. I’ll target their FTL Drive afterwards, we can’t let them get away to inform the Rebel fleet of our location.”

“Show no mercy, Kirkland!”

“Aye, sir!”

Direct hits!

“The enemy is powering up it’s FTL Drive!” Alfred informed them urgently. “This could be bad!”

The landed hits on the enemy vessel weren’t enough to destroy the hull and the Rebels were an inch from jumping out of reach. Fortune dealt them an unexpected hand, though.

Alfred opened up the screen to receive a hail from the Rebel Rigger Captain. “Captain Jones speaking. Stop right there!”

The enemy Captain scowled but offered a metaphorical white flag. “The day is yours! Show us your honour by allowing us to leave with our lives.”

This was a very fragile situation. The enemy hull was weak but their FTL Drive was primed to jump any second. There would be no time to stop them unless they agreed to a truce. Alfred growled in frustration but knew there was no choice. “Kirkland, cease fire! We’re entering a truce.”

“What? Um, okay?” came Arthur’s puzzled response. There was probably a good reason to cease fire so he complied. He would demand answers later.

Captain Jones accepted the supplies from the Rebel Rigger and the enemy did not warp away. Phew, that was a close one. The advancing enemy fleet would not gain speed on them.

Tense, Alfred called a meeting on the Bridge. He turned to his crewmates gravely. “We’re getting real lucky with these battles, our damage has been minimal. With Rebels so close to our Exit Beacon we need to be ready for a possible interception between us and the warp point. Don’t let your guard down and we’ll decide which sector to head to next once the coast is clear.”

Arthur nodded and returned to the weapons room without any answers, but he didn’t need them. It was clear they were in trouble and Alfred made a solid judgement call. He would be ready to defend.

Francis remained by Alfred’s side as they made the final jump to the Exit Beacon.

There was an asteroid field not far from their destination. They decided to risk navigating it for some materials that would help them in the next sector. Luck truly was not on their side as asteroids violently knocked down their shields and damaged their hull!

“Fire in ze portside airlocks, Captain!” Francis cried.

“I’ll open the airlocks to extinguish it. Everyone meet me in shields! We’ll repair and move on!”

Once that crisis was averted, the crew met up to decide where to go next.

Would they jump to the Engi Controlled area, or the Zoltan Controlled area? Both were civilian sectors but carried their own unique risks.

TO BE CONTINUED IN THE NEXT SECTOR...

Chapter 1 - END

[CHAPTER LIST]

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[Cover Art] This image was drawn in HB pencil and painted in watercolour paints on the 8th August 2021. It was digitally enhanced in GIMP Image Editor on the 9th August 2021. Paper type = 130 gsm

This chapter was written on the 8th August 2021.

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Please do not repost, modify, resell or claim this work as your own.

(Reblogging is fine, though!)

[Mythical Canary Info]

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tngrace · 3 years

Text

Road Trip

Written for @911lonestarangstweek day 4. This really got away from me 🙈 it was supposed to a short one shot, but now I'm debating making it into an AU series - so please leave me your thoughts on if that is something you'd like to see -and if it is something you'd like, I'd be open to request for the series.

This also takes my Road Trip square on my GTHB square for my bestie @justkillingtimewhileiwait thanks for letting change your original idea and run with this. I hope you like it boo! ❤

As always thank you @moviegeek03 for all your support on my writing.

GTHB masterlist; Read on A03

TK and Carlos met when they were freshmen in college at Austin Community College. They had a joint Lit class, and instantly became best friends. TK had escaped to Austin from NYC, having picked a random place on the map just wanting to get away from his parents. He was taking some classes to appease his mother, but he wasn't sure he'd make it past the first semester. He was debating between a career as a paramedic or a firefighter, but his mother insisted he needed to try college and find his own path. Carlos was struggling with his own career path as much as TK; he'd had a chance to go to the University of Texas on a soccer scholarship, but had turned it down in favor of finding his way at the community college first. He still played in a league in town on the weekends, but he knew it wasn't his career path. His father was a Texas Ranger, but Carlos wasn't sure that was the path he wanted to take. He was taking a mixture of classes between criminal justice, social work, and psychology to see if something stuck out more than the rest.

Their first semester was just general entrance level classes, but TK had already started some EMT classes alongside his Gen Ed ones. Carlos had started a psychology class with his Gen Ed ones, but he was waiting until he could delve deeper into all three programs before making any decisions. TK ended up liking Austin more than he expected and not just because of Carlos, so he ended up making it a whole year in the EMT program at Carlos's insistence. Carlos wasn't ready to lose his best friend just yet, even though he knew after that year, he probably would.

After that one year, TK joined the fire academy at ACC, electing to stay in Austin much to everyone's surprise. He still wasn't sure if he wanted to be a paramedic or follow in his father's footsteps, but with his level one EMT certification completed through ACC, he was able to join the academy fairly easily to see if he would like it. Carlos supported TK's decision either way.

They ended up renting an apartment in town together close to campus over summer break once TK decided he was staying. Once fall classes started back up, Carlos worked shifts at a community center that offered activities for kids, teens and elderly, around his class and soccer schedule, and TK worked weekend shifts at a coffee shop and restaurant. Thankfully real estate was cheaper in Austin than NYC, and they were able to afford the apartment on their part time jobs. Living together led to new challenges of getting to know one another better, but it also brought the greatest change to both their lives. Ever since the day they met, they were both slowly falling. Getting together was inevitable; falling in love was easy; making it last, well that was to be determined.

Sophomore year seemed to fly by and before Carlos knew it, he was having to make a decision on what he wanted to do next. TK had joined station 126 when he graduated from the fire academy. He was dual certified, and a total badass at his job in Carlos’s opinion, making him one of the most sought after probies of his class. Carlos ultimately decided to go on to UT and get a bachelor's in criminal justice with a minor in psychology. He still wasn't one hundred percent sure what he would do after, but having that extra time to decide eased his anxiety.

With TK working full time now at the station, Carlos was able to take on more classes if he wanted. He chose not to though; instead TK encouraged him to get back into soccer more, knowing how much Carlos missed it. His first semester at UT, he watched a soccer practice and decided to try out. Surprisingly he was able to walk on that year. TK supported all of Carlos’s decisions, just like Carlos did of TK. TK did his best to never miss a game, although sometimes his shifts coincided with them.

It was senior year, and there was a soccer match in Florida over spring break. The team elected to drive having convinced the coach to let them all drive separately so they could fully experience spring break after the games. Carlos was fine with driving on his own because he was known for getting car sick, sometimes exceptionally bad. He was surprised, however, when TK announced he'd taken the week off work to go with him. "Are you sure?" Carlos asked him when TK had told him.

"Yes. I saved up vacation for this. I might not have wanted the full college experience, but I don't want to miss your last spring break, or games," he grinned.

Carlos gave him a soft kiss that they both smiled into. "Ok," he whispers, not breaking their bubble. They packed that night and loaded the car so they could head out first thing the next morning. They had a sixteen and half hour drive ahead of them, so they wanted to hit the road as early as possible. They technically didn't have to be there til Monday, but Carlos liked having this extra time with TK since he was off work.

In the two and half years they'd been together, Carlos had managed to only catch a cold or bad allergies on TK. He had forewarned him on their first ever adventure together that he was prone to car sickness, but thankfully he'd not had any. The first part of the journey, Carlos was going to drive. TK was coming off a twenty four hour shift, and he wanted TK to get as much as sleep as possible. They'd just crossed into Alabama nine hours after leaving home. They'd stopped a couple times, but Carlos had insisted he was fine to keep driving. They were stopping for food, gas, and to stretch their bodies for a bit. TK was feeling more refreshed after his long nap, and he insisted on driving afterwards. Their goal was to make it as close to Orlando as they could before having to stop to sleep.

They eat at a roadside diner and discuss their plans for the week ahead. Carlos has a game Monday and if they win they'll play Tuesday; lose and they'll go home. He has to admit he's glad TK pushed him to pick it back up because it's been a great distraction when life feels too stressful. After they walk around for a little bit, and refuel, TK takes over driving and they hit the road again.

They've been driving for about five hours when TK notices Carlos has gone exceptionally quiet. "Babe? You ok?"

"Yea. Yea. I'm ok." He reaches over and squeezes TK's knee in reassurance even though he's not that convincing.

"Carlos?" TK tries again with a little more worry lacing his tone.

"Ok. Maybe I'm not so ok. I think I'm starting to get a little queasy, so I should probably try to sleep." He says it almost apologetically, but he also isn't sure he wants TK to see how sick he can get.

"Of course. You lay back and sleep and just let me know if we need to stop," TK says the worry clear in his voice as he runs a hand through Carlos's curls. He'd come prepared with some sprite, Gatorade, dramamine, and even his medic bag just to be safe. He knew Carlos said sometimes his car sick episodes could be pretty rough and he just wanted to be prepared to make Carlos feel better. He keeps an eye on him out of the corner of his eye, and while Carlos appears to be asleep, TK can tell from the furrow of his brow that he's still feeling rough.

After another hour, TK pulls into a gas station to refuel. He softly rubs Carlos’s cheek. "You want some dramamine?"

"Not really. It knocks me out and leaves me feeling fuzzy afterwards," Carlos murmurs.

"Ok. Gonna get some gas, and then we'll figure out a plan." TK softly kisses Carlos's forehead before he gets out. He hates that Carlos is feeling so sick, and he looks up motels nearby in case he can convince Carlos to stop and rest since they're so close to Orlando.

Carlos insists he'll be fine the last hour of the drive, even though TK is skeptical. He does get Carlos to take some sips of a sprite before they get back on the road. Carlos does his best to sleep the last hour to the hotel they'll be staying at for the soccer games, but it's hard with the way his stomach is rolling. Carlos elects to stay in the car while TK checks them in, and it's only once they've stopped moving that he realizes how sick he is.

He makes it over to the nearest bushes, and he violently loses everything he'd put into his body that day. If there's one thing Carlos hates, it's puking. It's the worst in his book, but he hates even more that it makes his eyes water to the point he cries. TK finds him mere seconds after he started puking, but Carlos is too sick to care at this point. He feels TK rubbing his back until he is done, ending with dry heaves. He stays bent over trying to catch his breath as his head pounds in time with his heartbeat. It's the sickest he's been in a long time.

"Here small sips. We'll stay right here until you think you can make it to the room." TK passes him a Gatorade he seemingly pulled out of thin air and rubs a piece of ice on Carlos's neck since he doesn't have a towel or washcloth. Gatorade is his least favorite, but he knows he'll need the electrolytes so he does as TK says and takes small sips.

After a few small sips and a few more gags at the taste, Carlos finally stands up and wipes at his eyes to try and hide and dispel the tears. "Sorry you had to see that."

"Hey no. I don't mind. I just hate that you were sick. Think you can make it to the room?" TK asks wiping at Carlos's face.

"Yea. Think so." His body feels heavy with exhaustion as always after being car sick and his head pounds still. He really just wants to lay down. TK wraps an arm around him and gets him back to the car. He drives around to their room and then helps Carlos out. When Carlos moves to grab some of their stuff TK stops him. "I've got it. Let's get you on the bed."

"You shouldn't have to carry all this in," Carlos pouts.

"And you need to rest ," TK counters. "You were pretty sick babe and you're still looking a little pale."

Carlos tries to hide his face, hating that TK had witnessed that, but TK just stops him with soft reassurances and leads him to the room. He hurries out for their bags, promising Carlos he can brush his teeth soon, and then he's back. Carlos’s eyes feel like they weigh a ton, but he stays awake long enough for TK to dig out his toothbrush. He let's TK help him over to he bathroom, hating how weak and tired he feels, but TK keeps up the quiet reassurances that he doesn't mind helping. It's nothing he hasn't seen on the job, and he loves Carlos, therefore he doesn't mind taking care of him.

Once his mouth feels fresh, he let's TK strip him down for bed. TK gets a cold wash cloth and rubs it over Carlos’s face and neck making Carlos hum in contentment. He gets Carlos settled in bed, and Carlos clings, not wanting TK to move far. "Ok. Let's cuddle," TK says fondly. He hates that Carlos is sick, but he's kinda enjoying seeing Carlos in a different element of being vulnerable in front of TK.

He softly rubs Carlos’s back as Carlos gets comfy. "Tomorrow should be better," Carlos murmurs softly.

"If it's not it'll be ok. I have some of the sea sick bands in my medic bag if you'd like to try them. You have to wear them at least thirty minutes before going anywhere or I would've suggested them earlier when we stopped. I just wasn't sure they'd do much for you then. "

"Mmm I might. Dramamine works. I just don't like the after feeling."

"I get that babe. But don't worry about it now. You just rest and let me take care of you." Carlos murmurs his assent, and with TK rubbing his back, he drifts off to sleep fairly quickly. TK makes sure he's good and asleep before he goes to get the rest of their stuff. He's quiet as he carries it in and starts to unpack. Once he's got the cooler situated, with most of the food in the mini fridge, he feels his own exhaustion creeping in. He strips down and crawls in bed with Carlos, smiling as Carlos instantly curls back around him. He's glad to see his boyfriend finally resting.

Carlos is still a bit sluggish the next day, so they sleep in and take it easy. After a light lunch and more Gatorade for Carlos, they try out the bands when they do some light exploring. They seem to help, but the true test will be on the trip home. By Monday, Carlos is back to full speed, and the soccer team wins. They lose on Tuesday though so the rest of the week is theirs to do as they please. One day is spent at Disney since neither had been before and despite knowing they won't be able to do it all, and the rest of the week is spent on the beach. They talk about coming back to Disney one day, wanting the full experience of all the parks. They have a blast together just relaxing and enjoying each other's company. Carlos wears the bands on the way home when TK drives, and he doesn't get sick so he takes the win. TK is just glad he was able to take care of Carlos for a change and hopefully found a permanent solution to keep his love from being that sick ever again.

#911lsangstweek #911 lone star angst week #911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos #tarlos fic #tarlos au fic #writers life #gthb #good things happen bingo

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gumnut-logic · 4 years

Text

Who do you save, John? (Bit 10c + The End)

Bit 1 | Bit 2 | Bit 3 | Bit 4 | Bit 5a | Bit 5b | Bit 6 | Bit 7 | Bit 8 | Bit 9 | Bit 10a | Bit 10b | Bit 10c

Always end up rushed. Didn’t have a chance to edit the end so I’m likely to be swearing at it later. Sorry for the delay, muse crashed and burned on Friday. here’s hoping I’ve resuscitated it. 17,000 words. So much for the under 10K I estimated. Typical.

For @5hadow-alpha cos they wanted Shopping and a Tracy brother. They got more than one, and I got more than I expected.

-o-o-o-

The next time Alan woke, the room was full of golden family.

The sun was setting through the window, lighting up the room in shades of gold. His brothers were lit up as they clustered around Virgil’s bed.

They didn’t notice Alan, and it gave him the opportunity to both wake up fully and observe his family undetected.

He was feeling much better. His head was a lot clearer and he was calmer.

The reason why no one noticed his wakefulness was because Virgil was already awake.

His brother was smiling and poking fun at a sunlit Gordon near the end of his bed. Gordon appeared to be enjoying it. When the attention drifted away from him and whether or not he was allowed to film Virgil on drugs, the expression on his fish brother’s face was one of fondness and hope. His eyes barely left the prone man.

That fact could have been annoying from a little brother’s perspective, but Alan found himself doing the same thing.

Virgil, who had literally died in his arms, was supported by his bed, sitting up at an angle and talking quite animatedly. There was a healthy flush to his cheeks that hadn’t been there before.

John was standing calmly on the other side of the bed, the setting sun catching his hair from behind as it darted through the hospital window.

John had a habit of striking such a pose. It was unclear if he did it on purpose or was completely unaware of his surroundings in those moments.

Virgil had photographed him on multiple occasions for that exact reason, much to the astronaut’s annoyance.

Grandma stood beside him; her arms wrapped around his. That was an unusual sight. But then they had almost lost a brother and the threat had been to John.

That thought led into unpleasant directions so he brought it to a halt.

He could only see Scott’s back, but his brother was gesticulating, making a point about digging up Gordon’s baby videos and broadcasting them to the world if he didn’t behave.

As if Scott would ever do something like that.

Though, come to think of it, the threat at least wasn’t a bad idea. Alan had much less a solid reputation than Scott and could probably carry the threat enough to get some good ones out of his brother.

“How did you know it was a fake detonator?” John’s voice cut across the conversation, his expression puzzled. The question came out of the blue, ever a sign that John’s mind worked on more than one track at a time.

Virgil blinked up at him. “I…I didn’t at first. It was a good replica of a T-325. But I noticed he was holding his hand strangely. The T-325 has a trigger rest here.” His brother held up a hand as if to sketch out the design in the air, only wince and withdraw the gesture.

Grandma frowned at him from the other side of the bed.

“Long story short…if you waved a T-325 around as much as he did, with that grip, chances are we would have blown up long before he had started his second rant. That one is a touchy model.” Virgil shifted awkwardly and Scott laid a hand on his arm.

“Well, I’m glad we had our expert on hand.”

Scott’s smile was reflected in Virgil’s eyes.

“Oh, ho, ho, look who’s awake!”

Trust Gordon to dob him in.

Suddenly all the eyes in the room were on Alan. His father and eldest brother spun, both faces lighting up when they realised Alan was awake.

Alan couldn’t help but grin back. “Hey.” His voice caught and he coughed.

Talk about ruining a moment. Scott was on him immediately, his dad not far behind.

“How are you feeling, Alan?”

He cleared his throat. “I’m good.” He reached out his uninjured arm and nudged his worried brother aside gently. “Virgil?”

Soft brown eyes caught his and his big brother smiled. “Hey, Allie.”

A hand landed on Alan’s leg and he looked up to find a pair of grey eyes peering down at him. Alan frowned. “Dad, you should sit down.”

“I’m fine, Allie. Are you comfortable?”

An arched eyebrow. “I’m good, honest.” And he was. There was definitely still something in his system. It was keeping him quite happy. Too much movement probably wasn’t on the cards yet, but to be honest, the sight of Virgil smiling at him was enough endorphins to keep him going for weeks.

He turned back to Virgil and soaked it in.

The smile turned to a grin and Alan flushed in embarrassment.

But those brown eyes were reassurance itself.

“Hmm, did you two want to be alone?”

“Shut up, Gordon.” It was sharp, but no less reassuring that Virgil could spin the familiar phrase off so easily.

Alan laughed. “Good to see you, Virg.”

Again with the smile. “Likewise.” Those eyes turned inwards for a second before fixating on him. “And thank you.”

The line ‘just doing my job’ climbed onto his lips, but he vetoed it. “Always, bro.”

The room was embarrassingly silent after that and the moment broke.

“Dad, I would rather you sat down.” Virgil was definitely feeling better.

“I can look after myself, son.” It was firm and a touch threatening if Virgil chose to push the point.

But his father took a seat.

Alan shifted position and his arm twinged. He must have shown it on his face, because Scott reached out and touched his shoulder. He looked up to find worried blue eyes staring down at him.

Apparently, he needed to repeat himself. “I’m okay, Scott.”

His brother grunted before letting go, grabbing his plastic chair and dumping himself in it.

The room fell silent.

Turquoise hit him from across the room as the sun dipped behind a cloud and the room chilled.

“So, who was that guy?” Anything to get the conversation moving.

For a second, he regretted the topic as Scott’s lips thinned, but he had to know and clearing the air wouldn’t hurt, would it?

It was John who answered, though. “Timothy was a rescue we were unable to attend. Eos pulled the records and what he said was true. He lost his family. Any other day and we would have been there, but the Tsunami Disaster had all our attention.” A pause. “I am sorry.”

Scott started at that. “Hey, it was not your fault.”

A copper eyebrow arched. “Really? Do you want me to list exactly where our forces were deployed at that moment? It was Day Three. Scott was en route to Tracy Island for refueling, Virgil, you were asleep. Gordon had dragged you to the bunk on Two. He had threatened to tie you down. You were all down for the count. His call was one of twenty-three we couldn’t respond to on that particular day.”

“Johnny-“ Gordon held out a hand.

It was almost snapped off. “Don’t call me Johnny.”

“John.” Their father’s voice managed to be both warning and worried at the same time.”

His astronaut brother didn’t back down. “This isn’t out of the ordinary. It happens every day. It is happening now. People are dying because we are not there.”

“We can’t save everyone.” His father’s voice was firm.

“I know that, Dad.” John’s expression was exasperation itself. “It doesn’t make it any easier.”

Silence fell again and all Alan could think of was how this whole thing had been aimed at John and how it had obviously reached its target despite Timothy not succeeding in his plan.

Something was burning in his brother. He could see it from here. John was tense and agitated.

It was likely the drugs, but Alan just wanted to climb out of bed and hug him.

“Well now, I think, you could all do with something to eat.” Grandma squeezed John’s arm and he looked down at her as if snapped from a dream. “Don’t look at me like that, young man. I know you haven’t been eating.”

“What?” Scott sat up straighter, his eyes narrowing in on his brother. “John?”

The astronaut rolled his eyes. “Fine. Whatever.” And Grandma was nudging him towards the door.

His father stood up and followed.

Scott eyed Alan a moment, but stayed seated.

As their grandmother and father herded John out the door, Gordon took the opportunity to steal the chair beside Scott.

“Is John okay?” The words fell from Alan’s mouth before he could think twice.

Scott sighed. “He will be.” There was a silent ‘I hope’ after that.

“Eh, he’s just pissed Eos got found out.”

Alan blinked. “What?”

“Gordon!”

“Just trying to lighten the atmosphere. Cool it, bro.”

Alan frowned. “What?”

“Eos electrocuted a guard with his own comms circuit.” Gordon was smirking.

“What? How?”

“Upped the signal power enough to arc through his baldric.”

Alan stared at his brother. “She hurt him?” He turned to Scott. “She can do that?” To us?

“Don’t worry, it is not happening again.”

“He deserved it.” Gordon snarled the words. “Betraying us for money. He’s lucky it was Eos and not Kayo.”

Scott tilted his head. “Kayo hasn’t finished with him yet.”

Alan’s eyes were bugging out. “Who? And why?”

Scott sighed just a little. “The guard outside the dressing room was an accomplice.”

“One of our own?”

“Yes.” That single word said so much. Kayo wasn’t the only person angry at such a betrayal. No doubt whoever it was would have to face the Commander at some point.

Alan had faced an angry Scott before. Not an experience for the faint hearted.

“And Eos was able to electrocute him with his comms?”

“Brains is working on it as we speak. It won’t happen again.”

Scott would never be entirely comfortable with Eos. Alan had to admit he had a few issues of his own having had to scoop up his astronaut brother as he lay dying in space, because of her.

A hand landed on his. “It won’t happen again.”

Alan swallowed. “Good.”

“Well, we’re lucky it happened this once. John found traces of an alien computer program in the z band network. Brains is having conniptions. This one security breach could have destroyed everything.”

“But it didn’t.” Virgil’s voice was quiet, but strong enough to stop the conversation. “We’re all safe. It’s over.” Brown eyes flickered in his direction.

The same brown eyes that had closed on Alan as his brother died in his arms.

Anger flared up. “So, this security breach let Timothy do what he wanted and Virgil died because of it.” Three pairs of eyes widened at Alan’s sharp tone. “How did this happen? How did he get past all our security checks? Kayo is pedantic to the point that I sometime wonder if I’ll be allowed access to anything. How did we not know?”

“Allie, it’s okay.” Again, Virgil’s voice was soft. “We’ll fix it.”

“You died, Virgil!”

“No, I didn’t.” Those eyes blinked slowly.

“You did!”

“Alan!”

And he found himself breathing fast and hard. Scott was holding him down. Gordon had a hand on his leg.

“Calm down, Allie.” Intense blue eyes caught his. “Virgil is safe. You are safe. We will fix this.”

Alan stared up at his big brother, soaking in the reassurance Scott was broadcasting. A deeper breath and he willed his heart rate to slow. He swallowed and managed the briefest of nods.

“The guy had money and resources. Kayo will, no doubt, rake our entire security force over hot coals. We will learn from this experience and it will not happen again.”

“It should not have happened in the first place.” Alan found his voice cold and as Scott flinched, he knew it had hit home.

“Allie…” Virgil looked half asleep and Alan realised that he probably was. “We’ll fix this.”

Alan pressed his lips together and glanced between all three of his brothers before once again fixating on Scott.

“We better.”

-o-o-o-

Jeff dragged John out of the hospital room with the full intention of cornering him. The fact his mother came with them was only an inconvenience.

“Mom, could you run ahead and dig up some menus from the cafeteria and perhaps let the nurses station know that the boys are awake?”

His mother eyed him and arched a silver eyebrow. “Certainly.” A flick of that gaze at his son before she turned and walked off.

No doubt he would be paying for that one later.

But first he wanted to speak to John.

“Walk with me?”

The astronaut frowned at him, but nodded once.

Jeff cursed being so slow, but he led his son down to the hospital garden. Security made itself known as Iz appeared from nowhere and he caught a glimpse of Leone not far off. Kayo was laying it on thick, but he couldn’t blame her.

The garden was a small one and this late in the day, quite dark and empty. Most patients had been hustled off to bed and their visitors went with them.

If Iz was seen to lock the door behind them and secure the green patch for them alone, Jeff wasn’t going to argue, just this once.

He found a bench under a large shrub that gave them some privacy and ushered John to sit down beside him as he lowered himself on to the seat.

“Dad, I’m okay.”

“That seems to be a theme in this family even when it is a blatant lie.”

That shut his boy up for a moment.

Jeff sighed. “John, when I sent you up there, I knew it was going to be hard. I am sorry.”

“No, Dad. I knew what I was getting into. This is not your fault.”

“Isn’t it? Aren’t I hailed the creator of International Rescue?” He tried hard to catch those turquoise eyes, but John refused to look at him.“Pfft. The media. What do they know?”

That got a reaction. Copper eyebrows arched and his son looked up. Jeff took every advantage.

“I may have taken the first steps, but it is you boys who have kept it all going. Lived it. You’ve lived it for ten years. That is four times as long as I have and, trust me, I have guilt for those numbers.”

“Dad-“

He held up a hand. “No. This is where you listen, John.”

Something flashed in those eyes and Jeff’s lips twisted in response. “I set you boys on this path and you have succeeded beyond my wildest dreams. You have made both your mother and I ever so proud.”

John just stared at him, eyes a little wide.

“But there has been a cost. You carry scars that have me questioning every decision I ever made.” He swallowed, all of it suddenly threatening to overwhelm. He shifted in his seat. “John, I know you sit up there day in and day out with lives in your hands. I can see that every life lost has as much effect on you as it does your brothers and often even more so because you see more of them.”

Jeff paused and tilted his head. “What’s the average number?”

John blinked. “Excuse me?”

“How many lives are lost per day because we can’t respond?”

There was a flicker of the professional emergency responder and his son’s face fell calm. “Ten to fifteen. It varies. The number includes rescues that fail due to local authorities incapability, situations that become more severe than predicted on initial assessment and situations we can not attend simply because we do not have the resources.”

“And what do you tell these callers?”

“What I can.” John’s voice grew quiet. “We do our best, Dad.”

Little more than breath. “Exactly.” He held his son’s eyes and couldn’t help but see the young man he had once been during that cyclone all those years ago. That same youth and concern. That care for those he couldn’t help.

“What’s the average daily rescue count?”

John blinked. “Uh, it varies between ten and several hundred.”

It was Jeff’s turn to blink. “That many?”

John shrugged. “Well, the statistics were blown during the asteroid crisis with Fischler and the aurora generator was full of hypotheticals.” His son was frowning, his hands expressive.

Jeff grabbed them.

“If you had a choice, all over again, as to whether you would take this path or another, what would you choose?”

The frown he received was castigating. “Dad, that’s asking the ridiculous.”

“No, who do you save, John? Them or yourself.”

“That’s a stupid question. Of course, I, we, choose to save everyone we can. We do it every day, Dad.” His son looked offended.

“Even despite the cost?”

“Of course.” The offense turned to an expression questioning Jeff’s sanity.

“Why?”

“Because it is worth it, Dad. When someone calls for help, they have to know there is someone out there who will answer. That’s what I do, Dad. I’m The Voice Who Answers.”

Jeff couldn’t help but smile. His boys made him so proud. Worried, yes, but so, so proud. His own words from so many years ago, echoed back at him by the very son who enacted them on a daily basis. The son who sacrificed so much to be up there, apart from his family, apart from the world, just so he could do exactly that.

The Voice Who Answers didn’t even consider the question, a question.

Who do you save?

Everyone you can.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #John Tracy #Virgil Tracy #Alan Tracy #Scott Tracy #Gordon Tracy #Jeff Tracy #Grandma Tracy #Sally Tracy #nuttys fandomversary

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wayhavnsfinest · 4 years

Text

R&R

Reader convinces Cal to let the crew have some much deserved R&R. I was inspired partially by this and by my own need for vacation even though it’s only the second full week of school. As I wrote this I decided I am probably going to a Damon one as well. So stayed tuned for that!

Pairing: Reader X Cal.

You walk into the bridge as you watch the captain and his second-in-command verbally battle it out. The crew had just collected their third bounty in two weeks time, to say they were overworked would be an understatement.

Cal pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation as Damon slinks off to his room like an angry cat.

You turn to Aya who was uncharacteristically quiet during the exchange. “What did I miss?” Your brow furrows as you try to decode the last of the argument you observed.

“Damon basically completed a contract on his own and pissed off some hoity toity in the process.” Aya activates the ship’s autopilot as she turns to you. “Honestly under normal circumstances it wouldn’t be that big of a deal. However everyone is just exhausted and tempers are high because of it.”

You definitely noticed the strained tensions between the crew the past week. Damon’s dark circles were darker. Cal’s frown lines were deeper. Aya was considerably less chipper. Bash was actually quiet. Only Ryona and June managed to remain calm under the additional pressure. You were tired as well. Your new “boss” had you working all sorts of odd jobs around the ship as well as additional hand to hand combat and weapons training.

You bite your lip and rack your brain for a way to try to cheer up the crew. “Hey, we’re not far from Teranium are we? What if we visited that oasis you told me about.”

Aya snorts and manages to grin at you. “If you can get grump ass over there to agree, I’ll set the course immediately.” She turns back to the controls to monitor the course as the ship sails on autopilot.

In the short time of your exchange with Aya; Calderon managed to disappear. You wouldn’t say you were close to the former commander but you hoped you were friendly enough to convince the guy to let the crew take a break. You make your way to his quarters as you rehearse your case in your head.

After knocking on his door and getting no response you walk into his quarters. His door was unlocked, so it’s not like you picked it or anything, he can’t get too mad.

“Can I help you?”

You look down to see a very shirtless, very agitated looking commander doing sit ups.

“I knocked and you didn’t answer so I wanted-“

“I didn’t answer because I wanted to be left alone.”

Yikes. Okay.

“Just hear me out okay.” Damn he’s ripped. Like his muscles have muscles. You collect yourself and concentrate on those gorgeous baby blues of his. “The crew is tired. We’ve been working hard, we’re cranky. We won’t do well if we keep running ourselves ragged.”

Calderon shoots you an indecipherable look. You continue. “We’re not far from Teranium, Aya told me about this oasis. It seems far enough removed where we won’t attract attention if we land there for a few days, but it’s also close enough where we can refuel and restock before heading out on our next contract. I think it would be really good for the crew to just take a few days and rest.”

You gnaw on your bottom lip as you wait for his response.

“Alright. You convinced me. Go tell your partner in crime that she can set the course. You can also tell her that sending you to do the dirty work, was a well calculated move and I respect that.” He gives you a small smirk and you feel your heart beat just a little faster as you make your way to Aya.

Aya sets the course for the oasis and you smile triumphantly as she tells you the ETA.

It takes about 18 hours but you finally arrive at the oasis. Aya wasn’t hyping this place up for nothing. It is gorgeous, white sand, palm trees, crystal clear water. Best of all, it is completely deserted. The Andromeda Six crew has the run of the place and you can already sense everyone relaxing.

You watch as everyone splits off to do their own thing. Your eyes meet Cal’s and he gives you a slight nod, you interpret it as a sign to follow him. You walk over to him and take in the sight of the normally buttoned up captain in a tank and swim trunks.

“You up for a bit of swimming?” He asks as he shrugs off his shirt. You once again get a view of his physique. You make a mental note to ask what his arm tattoo stands for.

“Sure!” You quickly shed your clothes and reveal your swimsuit underneath. You walk with Cal into the water and try to keep up with him as he leads you to an unknown destination.

After a few minutes of swimming you get to a spot where you can once again stand. You take a breather and look around. Cal has led you to a shallow cave where small schools of exotic fish swim in the tide pools.

“Oh wow!” You are mesmerized by the colors of the fish. They are colors of periwinkle, lavender, teal, rose and chartreuse. You have never seen fish like these before and they take your breath away with their beauty.

“They’re beautiful.”

“Yeah they are, but they are nothing compared to you.”

You turn and look at the captain in shock. Did he really just say that?!

“I know we didn’t get off on the right foot, but I wanted to let you know I felt. You haven’t had it easy, but you’ve taken it all in stride. You’ve handled your situation with grace and poise. I…” The captain takes a breath and looks at you. “I really admire you.”

You can’t help it, you close the gap between the two of you and kiss him passionately. You wrap your arms around his neck as he pulls you close and holds you against his body. The heat of your bodies and the coolness of the water has a small moan escaping from your lips. He takes this opportunity to have his tongue slip past your lips and battle yours for dominance, it’s not much of a fight as you surrender yourself to him.

Breathless you pull yourself away from him. “I really admire you as well Cal.”

Calderon smiles and kisses you again.

#andromeda six #andromeda 6 #a6 #a6 fanfic #andromeda six fanfic #andromeda six cal #andromeda six calderon #calderon lynch #cal lynch #andromeda six traveler #a6 traveler #calderon lynch x reader #calderon lynch x traveler

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spookyold-saintjm · 4 years

Text

Things Unspoken

Mandalorian x female reader

Part of the Pilot series [Masterlist]

Warnings: two big dummies who need to say they love each other already

Word Count: 2,260

Hey friends! I figured we could use something soft this time around, which usually is not my thing because I love to cry I guess, but here we are! As always, I’d love to hear your thoughts. If you’d like to be tagged in future installments, I’d love to have you join us! Much love. x

—

“You sure you don’t want to come with us?"

You stood at the still-closed hatch of the Crest, your hand hovering over the switch to open it and reveal the world outside. The child stood by your feet, his tiny round head covered by the hood that Mando had encouraged him to keep on while the two of you journeyed off the ship and into the nearby town for supplies and a meal. He, on the other hand, had opted to stay back and be in charge of refueling the ship.

The Mandalorian slipped his blaster into the holster at his side as he neared you both, his helmet tilted slightly downward at the image of the child struggling to pull the hood off of his head. He eventually succeeded by tossing it backwards with a quick flick of his ears. Mando knelt down only to pull the fabric back over his head, at which the small thing began to fuss all over again.

“He’s not going to keep that on,” you noted.

“At least try to get him to leave it alone.” Mando rose again, his eyes not leaving the child.

“He’s not going to.”

To prove a point, the child yanked back the hood yet again with a frustrated grunt.

Mando sighed, and you laughed. Even if it was at his expense, his heart skipped at the sound.

“No one’s going to be concerned with him here,” you offered, although you tossed the hood over the child’s head again anyway, in an effort to ease his mind. "I’ve been here a couple times before. Everyone minds their own business unless you manage to make a scene.”

“How do you know?” he asked, crossing his arms.

You tilted your head up ever so slightly, your lips slightly pursed, and shrugged as you flicked your eyes away from his stare.

“I made a scene."

You then spun on your heel so that you had your back to both of them, not giving him a chance to reply. After giving himself a few buffer seconds to recover from considering what your comment could have possibly meant, he again reached down for the child. Mando lifted him gently with both hands, and placed the bundle into the small compartment of your pack that he happened to fit in just perfectly. The child propped his chin up comfortably on the top of the material at the opening of your bag, and gurgled in excitement as you adjusted the straps over your shoulders before turning back around to face your human companion.

“Last offer to join us.”

Mando shook his head. “I’m good.”

“Suit yourself,” you replied. You then turned back to open the hatch. Bright sunlight poured into the ship, and you made your way down the ramp with the child in tow.

Mando stood. Watched. Waited for you to eventually fade from view when you turned the corner that led to the exit of the hangar.

Or he would have, if he hadn’t started following behind you.

Your ears picked up the soft thud of his footsteps behind you, and you slowed your pace. At your back, the child was babbling gleefully at his caretaker, ensuring that there was no way the bounty hunter could sneak up on you even if he’d wanted to.

You glanced over your shoulder at him. “Can I help you?”

“I…changed my mind.”

You stopped then, turning around to face him as he halted his own footsteps a couple feet away from you.

“Why’s that?” You asked, taken aback his admission. Had he decided not to trust you alone with the child, after all? Was he still going to try to make some sort of argument about you not being able to handle things yourself?

He stepped closer to you then, now beside you, his voice surprisingly light when he answered.

“Someone has make sure you don’t make a scene.”

You opened your mouth, prepared to snap back at him, but then you noticed the slight, almost sarcastic tilt of his head to one side as he looked down at you.

You couldn’t hold back your grin as you elbowed him in the ribs before leading the way into town.

—

You shifted your hold on the child against your hip as you began to drop the supplies you’d just purchased into your bag that now rested on the counter of the bustling shop. Your bag had quickly begun to fill up not long after you had arrived in the town’s center, and you now opted to hold the child in your arms instead of having him take up extra room that could be used for the necessities you were currently tucking away.

Or, at least, what you thought were necessities.

“Do we really need all of that?” Mando asked, again, as you thanked the shop owner and walked back outside with him, tossing your bag back over your shoulder.

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t trust half of the what you’ve got stashed away in that med pack.”

“I’ve learned plenty of different ways to take care of a wound,” he offered, as if it would justify the lack of supplies stored within the confines of the Crest.

You glanced to him with a mildly annoyed and definitely disturbed frown. “I know. That’s exactly what worries me.”

“Hey,” Mando's clipped voice claimed offense, but you knew better, side-eyeing him with a smug grin as you made your way through the humming life of a busy afternoon in the small down’s central market. He was secretly glad that you at least vaguely recalled the layout of the bustling town. He was not all too fond of the crowds, part of the reason he’d initially offered to stay behind on the Crest in the first place.

But, damn you, you’d won him over, and now he was on high alert, scanning every direction for any potential threats as he trailed a step behind you and the child.

“Cut it out,” you finally muttered under your breath, slowing your pace so that you now walked side-by-side. “Everything’s fine.”

To be fair, you had been keeping a lookout as well, but much more casually and less like the hulking bodyguard that the Mandalorian next to you was making himself out to be.

“We don’t know for certain that we weren’t followed here,” he replied lowly, falling in step closer to you as he spoke the words.

You shook your head.“No, we don’t. But…I don’t think so,” you answered quietly back, glancing down at the child, who was busy taking in every sound and color of the bustling scene around you with bright eyes. “At least, for now. I can’t explain it. I think we’re okay here.”

You tapped the child on the head with your finger. “What do you think, little one?”

The child leaned his head back to meet your eyes with low hum and a miniature smile, the hood covering his head long gone as you’d predicted. He silently reassured your unusual sense of calm contentment…he, too, felt at ease here. You nodded down at him in a settled agreement. You then gestured to make a left turn ahead, and Mando followed behind.

“So, I’m outnumbered,” he concluded.

“‘Fraid so.” You shrugged teasingly, and he sighed. While he didn’t necessarily put much stock in this strange magic and the many forms that it seemed to take within both you and the child, it hadn’t steered you wrong yet.

Yet, being the primary word of that argument. But it was one he knew he wouldn’t win. Despite his lingering reservations, Mando attempted to relax his shoulders a bit.

Just as you vanished from his sight.

He jerked to a halt, spinning his head around in every direction as a jolt of panic shot through his veins. How had you disappeared so damned fast?

The sound of the child’s squeal sent him nearly whipping out his blaster, but he managed to catch sight of you both while he was reaching for the weapon at his side.

He released the tight breath he’d been holding as he walked over to the canopy that you now stood underneath. You’d set the child on an open spot at the end of the table you stood in front of, and were chuckling down at him as your wrapped a scarf easily three times his size around his neck. His ears perked up and his own giggles erupted when the material nearly bunched over his entire face. You quickly removed it to wrap it around your own neck, at which the child gave an immediate nod of approval.

You looked down, running the material between your fingers in consideration, but shook your head. “It’s really nice, but my old one back on the ship does just fine. Has for years.”

A shifting, bright color from the corner of your eye caught your attention as you replaced the scarf onto the table. You softly smiled down at the child as he turned a bright yellow flower that he had pulled from a bundle for sale at the end of the table back and forth in his small hands, his tiny clawed fingers running gently across the thin petals.

You knelt down to meet him at eye-level, taken aback in the moment by his simple, glittering wonder, and unable to resist the wide smile spreading across your face. When he looked to you, he uttered a low coo as he reached toward you, the flower still in his hands. You motioned to pick him up, but he quickly shook his head.

“What is it?” You paused and let your arms drop, your eyebrows narrowing amusedly at him. You rested your hands on your bent knees as he reached again, as far as he could manage, and tucked the flower behind your ear. He slowly pulled back his arms, his eyes falling in a slow blink as you met his eyes again.

“Thank you,” you replied, an unfamiliar warmth spreading through your chest as you reached to stroke his cheek with your thumb.

Mando was then again at your side, his approaching presence hard to miss. You both looked up to him, attempting to appear the very picture of innocence.

“Pretty, huh?” You asked, gesturing to the flower still resting over your ear. It was an effort to distract him from telling you off for so suddenly ducking under the canopy and out of sight.

But Mando had seen the entire exchange between you and the child as he'd caught up with you, and was considering something much different as he looked back at you, your bright eyes and the smile still painted across your softened features, the strand of hair that had fallen halfway down across your forehead and just…you.

“...Yes.” His reply was short, hardly loud enough to be heard over the bustling noise surrounding you, but something in the tone of his answer held you captive, and you rose slowly to your feet without breaking your gaze up at him.

Gods, gods, how you wanted to see his face then. Wanted to know just what he was thinking. The thought hit you in spontaneous waves like this. Your fingers twitched at your side at the ghosting, already vanishing memory of his skin beneath the palm of your hand, and you wished now you could reach up and glide your fingers along the stubble on his chin or the curve of his nose or around a curl of his hair…

Instead, you forced yourself to turn to the aging woman across the table from you, whom you had spoken briefly with while browsing, and dropped the needed amount of credits into her palm as you pulled the flower from behind your ear and dropped it back into the child’s eager grasp.

You then took the child back into your arms. He didn’t stick with you for long, however, instead giddily reaching for Mando. You passed him off, and the child immediately began to excitedly chatter and repeatedly tap the flower against the visor of Mando’s helmet.

“I see.” He stated, taking the child’s tiny arm between his first two fingers and moving it gently away from his face. “It’s nice.”

You gestured toward a building across from where you then stood. “This kind woman says food is good there.” You pocketed your leftover credits as you then looked over at the child. “He’s probably getting hungry."

Mando glanced across the street and nodded. “Lead the way.”

You politely thanked the woman, who smiled fondly back at you as you turned to leave. Mando had of course intended to follow directly behind, but the woman’s voice behind him momentarily struck him immobile.

“You are a beautiful family.” Her accent was think, her sentence compiled in a broken form of Basic, but still yet enough to nearly knock Din Djarin off his feet like he’d taken a blaster shot through the chest.

It was a word that he hadn’t so much as heard in a very long time. A word that had not been used in a context relevant to him for as long as he could remember. And a word that he never thought would apply to him again. The woman had vastly, vastly misjudged the situation…but he couldn’t find the words to correct her. Couldn’t find words at all, really.

He instead found himself only replying with a single, quick nod before reaching to place a small stack of credits on to the table.

“I’ll take the scarf."

—

tag list: @nadia-rosea @capsironunderoos @electricprincess888 @smolashie @iwatobiswimbros @backontheolebullshit @100kindsofblake @pandacookieowo @biolo-tea @baby-yodas-cool-aunt @heyitsjaybird @krtslxx @edgy-hufflepuff-bro @dirty-dancefl00r5 @fastidious-and-a-mess @officiallydeceased @sunkissed-winter @crushingonmando @ah-callie @linenprimrose @holamor @din-and-juice @cosmo-bear @goburnurflowercrown @mabelleen @b0n-chann @the-obsession-ship @operation-spot @atletino @immundusspiritu @jellyfishpoptart @dyn-djarin @tired-bisexual-fool @weakling-grace @icanbringyouincold @pisss-offf-ghostt @taman-a @mamalorian @avoreahspromise @c0recl0wn @tedpicklez @miartian @disn3yfreak @ihaveashield

#i wanted to keep going tbh #i have a LOT OF FLUFF IN ME RN #the pilot #mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #mandalorian x female reader #din djarin x female reader

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stellar-imagines · 4 years

Text

SCENARIO REQUEST: ❝aggressive encouragement.❞

[ Fandom: Kimetsu no Yaiba ] [ Characters: Hashibira Inosuke ]

「Scenario of Inosuke who comforts an insecure reader in the most aggressive ways.」

HASHIBIRA INOSUKE

Inosuke was raised by boars, everyone knows that. It was surprising to you but when you studied his mannerisms, it became obvious that his behavior was a bit weird. He possessed little understanding of normal human interaction. When you first approached him, he was aggressive and tried attacking you but was held back by Tanjirou. It was obvious that he wasn't used to kindness seeing as how odd he reacted when you and Tanjirou showed generosity. It wasn't long until he develop feelings of friendship towards you like how he warmed up to Tanjirou and Zenitsu. There weren't much female demon slayers at their level so having someone like you was like a breath of fresh air. The four of you were often sent on missions together so you all knew each other better than anyone else.

You were there to keep him in check because of how he acts during battle. He tends to charge straight ahead without putting too much thought into his strategy, often overestimating his own abilities. This often led to you or Tanijrou scolding him for rushing in without any plan. Inosuke admits out loud that he has mixed feelings towards you, not the normal kind. When he says mixed, he means a lot of feelings that he doesn't really understand. Tanjirou and Zenitsu had to step in to help the boar boy understand the feelings he has towards you.

"Hey! Aren't you going to eat!?" Inosuke spotted you picking at your food. The plate was almost empty, only a quarter of the rice left untouched and some of the vegetable kakiage sitting on the side plates. You shook your head and pushed your tray to his side, offering him your leftovers. He seemed pretty happy with having more food to eat while you sat by, watching him finish off whatever you left.

"[First Name], you've been eating less. Are you not hungry?" Tanjirou noticed it earlier that you haven't been eating a bit less than usual. You waved it off, telling him that you're not that hungry. However, after all that training session to strengthen your body, you needed to refuel your body with food.

After a long day of training, running around and working on your body endurance, everyone was eager for some rest. On the other hand, you were still at the yard of the Butterfly Estate, swinging at your blade. You didn't do any simple training either, you were going all out, praciting your Total Concentration. Inhaling the maximum amount of oxygen within a specific breath pattern to raise their physical and mental strength to your utmost limits. After all that harsh training, he was pretty amazed that you were still practicing all on your own. Seeing you swinging at your Nichirin blade got him going to.

Before you even realized it, he was yelling about how he can do whatever you're doing. Inosuke was already swinging at his sword wildly while laughing maniacally. It wasn't long until the two of you stopped swinging. Sweat glistened along the side of your face, a tired gleam in your eyes. He didn't understand why you were pushing yourself, you weren't that bad during training and it was obvious that you were pushing yourself.

"Why are you training so much?" Inosuke asked, rising from his position abruptly and glancing at you. It was hard to tell what he was thinking because it was hidden by his boar mask. He seemed a bit agitated like usual which was nothing unusual to anyone.

"Don't tell me you're trying to get better!? Of course you can't be get better than me! I'm clearly the better one!" the boy boasted loudly, laughing with his hands on his hips as he gazed at you. There was something about the way he expressed himself that made you feel a bit at ease. You sat down by the engawa while Inosuke stood at the yard, looking extremely proud of himself.

You had been training your techniques a lot and you were able to use Total Concentration for 24 hours straight so you had improved vastly from when you passed the entrance exam. But it wasn't only you, everyone around you was improving at a very fast pace and you were starting to get left behind. You didn't want to admit it out loud but you were quite insecure, over a few things. However, that wasn't the only reason. After missions, you'd get injuries, some deep enough to leave scars. So it's not only that you were insecure of your abilities but also your body image.

"Well, that's not the only thing....." you said.

“So why? Is it because that your body isn't as flexible as mine!? Right?!" Inosuke pointed at himself proudly, seemingly a bit excited to show off how flexible his body truly was. You knew he was spouting whatever same to his mind but you were shocked to hear him assume something that was close. He seemed to notice a change in your expression and instantly knew that he's right.

Zenitsu always boasted about how girls are and practically drilled into the mountain boy everything about girls. Tanjirou taught him about delicacy so he knew that girls have a few topics that they're quite sensitive with. Even so, with that information, Inosuke wasn't able to act because he has no idea what to do. He was a straightforward and honest guy, so he decided to be honest and tell you how he truly feels about you.

"But what's wrong with it?

"You're hard-working! Having scars are pretty cool, you know! That a sign of strength, you're strong! It's pretty cool!" there was a visible lack in his vocabulary but despite that, you were able to hear how honest he is. Deep inside, you have a feeling that tells you Inosuke might not understand how you feel and just say whatever he thinks. In a way, it made you feel better.

"Really? I don't think I am though." you replied.

"Hah!? You think I'm lying, don't you!? You think you're better at this game!?" Inosuke seemed a bit frustrated, much to your surprise.

"It's not like that Inosuke―"

"What's wrong with having scars!? They're cool! What's wrong with having an imperfect body!? I just don't understand! You look nice! You have a nice face! Your eyes are pretty, your skin is soft and you smell good every time you stand next to me!" he aggressively pointed at you, getting close to your face. You didn't know what to say, Inosuke was not the type to lie about his feelings and thoughts. He was being genuine. You found yourself smiling at the mountain boy who clearly had no idea how much his words affected you.

"Thank you, Inosuke." you stepped closer and pecked the side of his boar mask. He was a blushing mess and his body felt oddly light at the sight of your smiling face. Inosuke was unable to respond properly but he had the sudden urge to hold you right now.

And so he did. Tackling you to the ground and engulfing you in one of the most awkward hugs in your entire life.

Total: 1196 words Published: 23.03.2020

Thank you for requesting! *｡٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و*｡ Inosuke is just too cute for me uwu We hope that he’s not too out of character. Sorry to make you wait, anon. ― author Lou

Thank you for requesting! Inosuke is one of the most interesting characters to write for to be honest. Sorry to make you wait. ― author Natsuki

Requests are open! Matchups are closed!

Please do not mind the grammar mistakes and typos.

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guigz1-coldwar · 3 years

Text

"The House of the Rising Sun" : New chapter for "Redemption in a Spirit in a Cold War" is out !

"The House of the Rising Sun"

Chapter Summary : Bell, along with Park & Sims, is flying to the New Orleans for their mission against Remy Duvall

To read it on AO3, click here !

Words : +3100

Warning : Little NSFW content !

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Three of us on Remy Duvall....the other three on Amram Rabalwi. The first group is going to the New Orleans to take care of a corrupt politician while the other one is going right in the middle of the Iran-Irak War to kill an important irakian general. I think it was the only better choice to do, we couldn't let one of them escape if we had our focus completely on the other one. I thought that Adler was going to send right in Irak but instead and unexpected, he decided to send me, Park and Sims to the US......a pleasant surprise, I can say !.....

He assigned Sims to be the one in charge of the group and since we were going to act on the US soil, he was a good choice from Adler. After we have finished our briefing and discussing on our new plan to take care of these two Perseus agents, Sims has started to pull out some calls to Washington and to a CIA agent based in New Orleans that will help us to set the scene to act against Duvall while Park also make some calls to London, updating them of the situation but the CIA is going to be our only support in the New Orleans...just them.

While they were doing that, I decided to prepare me & Park's equipment for our mission as we were going to stay in the US for a while until we got rid of Duvall. We needed to take the minimum as the CIA were going to supply us at the safehouse Sims's contact is preparing for us but also because we couldn't risk to transform the city in a warzone, we are directly acting in the United States and I think that no one want to see that happening at all. We got the american city....Adler, Mason & Woods got the warzone in the Middle-East.

They were the first group to leave the safehouse after one hour as their preparation were quite easy as us, we needed more of it and after 2 hours, we were finally ready and we were out of the place, going to the plane that were going to make us fly to the US. Instead of using an usual cargo plane, it was more like an private jet that we're going to use...thanksfully.....It was going to change from the last time I took a plane.....and also, I have started to have enough of West-Berlin, still staying in that safehouse for days and having for some days only rain to fall.

We finally left behind the city and we were pretty quiet during the flight as we preferred to let ourselves rest a little, allowing me to have some peace to think. It wasn't a direct flight as we had to make a stop in Lisbon to refuel the plane before taking off again to reach Miami as our second and final stop before New Orleans. It was weird for me to see from the skies and from afar the Europeans coasts....it was my first time, since I woke up almost a month ago that I left Europe to go to America and I was wondering if I did go there for Perseus or not.

3 hours to go from West-Berlin to Lisbon.....and more than 8 hours from Lisbon to Miami. It was pretty quiet but damn long with that weird silence in the plane. We all had something to do except for talking : reading a book for Park & me....she gave one to me as she wanted me to do something instead of looking outside for hours and for Sims....well, he was sleeping....He finally awake suddenly when we were going approach Miami.

"Did I miss anything ?" It was the first thing he said, breaking the long silence in the plane, putting back in place, his baseball cap he used to hide his eyes as I start to look at him.

"We're going to land soon in Miami, the pilot just make the announcement two minutes ago." Park answered, lowering her book to look at Sims. She was siting in front of me as Sims was at the other side of the plane. "We have at least 2 mores hours before we're finally in the New Orleans at 1900 approximatively." She added, getting her book inside her own bag,

"2 hours ?" I exclaimed nervously as I was feeling to be on that plane for days, we left West-Berlin at 1 PM and we're going to arrive in Louisiana at 7 PM "It's like 11 hours that we're on that place."

"Jet lag, Yirina...Jet lag...." Park scoffed, having saw me nervous before she rolled her eyes in a lovely way.

"Are you giving me a lesson on how the time work ?" I asked to her, narrowing my eyes in a joking tone

"By seeing Park, I guess it's a yes..." Sims replied, almost laughing before Park put her eyes on him, faking a curious and confused look. "What ?" He shrugged his shoulders in incomprehesion before she smiled at him.

"Joking, Sims." She breathed "You should take some rest again." She added as in me, I start to feel weird in a second, remembering something that happened a lot to me,

"You know....it's something that I heard by a lot 3 years ago." I told them, getting our attention on me, very curious.

"About rest ?" Sims asked, I nodded

"At that time, each time I was asking about some gasps on my memories, you were all like 'Take some rest, Bell, you're looking tired !' or 'You might work too much, get some sleep.'" I said as it was the thing I remembered, it was always like that, almost everyone told me that at least once.

"Hey, it was true !" Sims defended, getting comfy in his seat and his voice, as I raised an eyebrow to him as the same time as Park. "You worked too much." I gave him a look that could say 'it's true !'

"And to talk about my memories, I worked too much ?" I asked, changing my look, narrowing my eyes to him now.

"Well...." Park started, taking a breath by talking of that "At first, the CIA would have liked to 'put you in their ranks' but I forced them to have you 'join the MI6'"

"Meaning ?" I turned my eyes to her

"Since you were now in the MI6, we had no choices but to limit the memories that Adler could give you." Sims was the one to speak. "Only memories about Vietnam was given and everything else was put into a bin." He explained, giving me the reasons of why 'Bell' only had memories of Vietnam.

"Adler has...well....considered the option to have part of my memories in you but...." Park whispered, not sure of telling it as it was sounding like a big secret to hide. "I wouldn't want that to happen, fearing that it could have break you..."

"It would have allowed you to not be harassed by me with all these questions about my past." I tried to joke but why joking about that I was brainwashed ? I could maybe laugh of that but not in these times.

"Yes but if we had did this, your real memories would have been gone and I didn't wanted to do that." Park admitted as inside of me, I was relieved that she didn't do it. "Even if some saw you as an enemy, some care about you and they wouldn't wanted that too."

"Having Adler and my memories in you was risky...." Sims said, making me realizing that Adler's memories wasn't the only one I had in head "Having Park's ones would have been deadly to you."

"That could have killed me ?" They nodded at me

"With what you have faced in a short time, you would have freaked out the day you woke up." Sims added, readjusting his cap, refering to what happened between the day I was captured by the CIA and the day I woke up as 'Bell'...a day I can't even remember ! As he was finished, we started to hear some noises....it was the pilot going to speak.

"We'll land in a minute in Miami !" He announced in the speaker before hanging out as I looked outside to see that we were above the city, soon arriving at the airport for our stop for a short time. I was wondering something when I removed my head from the porthole.

"Did I go to the US before ?" I asked, looking at Sims & Park.

"Well, you were there..." Sims started to reply "Not freely in reality, Adler got you and brought you in Langley."

"Guess you don't have any memories or recalls that said to you that you came here before ?" Park added, looking curious

"I don't know, I was working as a cryptographer in the KGB at the Lubyanka for Perseus and also as a field agent but.....I couldn't tell." I responded, giving in short, what my old life was exactly. "Guess I will find out soon." I added before the plane lowered itself as it was landing.

"Well..." Sims looked at me, smiling. "Welcome back to the USA....freely !" He greeted, making me laugh a little as the plane finally landed.

We didn't step out of the plane as it was just a little stop to refuel the plane enough to make the flight to the New Orleans. It was weird now to be in the US-of-A for me after everything that happened to me. What a life ! We only stayed for a least 20 minutes to let the maintenance crew to get the fuel in the plane before it finally take off again, leaving Miami and Florida behind us to join the Louisiana, the New Orleans.....'The Crescent City' as I heard, it was like its little nickname and it was quite....good.

During the 2 remaining hours we had in flight, we didn't talk too much again and if we have talked, it was just about Sims telling us the good things they had in the US, explaining it like if we were tourists in a trip. Finally, we were arrived at 7:50 PM in the New Orleans at the airport as we had just finished to eat and we could finally move from our seats, getting our bags on us and leaving the plane, allowing me to set foot on the 'New World' by my own will and not forced and tied up by the CIA.

But no time for us to play the tourists....well, we're spies...Sims led us to a car that the CIA left for us and he took the wheel, driving us to the safehouse we were going to use for the following days....at least a week for Sims as Duvall is not an easy target to deal with. It took us more than 5 minutes less to arrive at the safehouse that was in a well-keep house just at the city's outskirts. Sims was the first to get out of the car as a man was waiting for us at the porch's house.

"Hey, Wolf !" Sims waved at the guy that was leaned against a pillar before he start to move to get to Sims.

"Sims, my man !" Wolf exclaimed as the two shook hands, making an friendly acolades "Hope that the flight wasn't so disturbing !"

"Nope at all, I slept all the way to here." Sims replied, giving him a friendly tap on the shoulder before Wolf looked at us, getting out of the car with our bags.

"So, is this your team ?" Wolf asked, Sims nodded.

"This is Helen Park from the MI6 !" He pointed at Park where the two shook hands before he looked at me "And this is Yirina Grigoriev, she's a russian defector working with us." I could see Wolf, getting a little bit confused before he smiled at me, offering his hand.

"It's a pleasure to meet you both." He told us as we finally shook hands

"So, this is our new place ?" I asked, looking behind him.

"Yeap." Wolf simply answered

"Wolf is going to help us with dealing with Duvall, he's the one in charge of this safehouse." Sims added, crossing his arms before he looked at him "You got the necessary material for us ?"

"Of course, there's still things missing but tomorrow, we will have everything to start working on Duvall's case." Wolf responded before slowly walking inside the house "Let's get inside before you all catch a cold." He added as we started to follow him.

We took our bags in hand and then, we entered the safehouse that was going to be our little home for days before we are returning to West-Berlin, it's gonna change from the rainy weather from the german city, that's for sure. It was more going to be sunny and hot in here, it's what I wanted really. Wolf start to show us the basics of the house : the kitchen and the bathroom before we arrived in the living room that was in fact, our operations room with an dashboard, looking like the same as the one in West-Berlin.

"Damn, the CIA is well equipped !" I said, almost loudly as I saw multiple equipment all around the room, like listening devices, radios and also guns.

"Well..." Wolf started, scratching the back of his head "All of this is coming from the FBI, stole it to Webster's brigade !"

"You stole from your own countrymens ?" Park asked, amused by that fact.

"We had no choices, we're likely making an illegal CIA operation on the US soil and we have to use our own means....including stealing." Sims was the one to reply, already looking aware of that. "It's just the four of us with a part of CIA against Duvall." I then started to move near the dashboard, full of intels about Duvall.

"Duvall has big means, I can see...." I looked at everything on it, discovering what Duvall can do and what are his hobbies.

"Politician but also radio host who has an big support from the New Orleans high society." Wolf explained behind me. "A big asshole leading the America First Party."

"So, when do we start ?" Park questioned as I looked around to face the others again.

"It's better that we start tomorrow, we need to have everything in place before we can start to make our moves and scout out to eliminate Duvall." Sims replied, leaning on a couch. "You might need to rest, Yirina....as well as you, Park." He joked, refering to our discussion we all had 2 hours ago, making me rolling my eyes around.

"I'm going to show you your rooms !" Wolf said before waving to us to follow him and we complied. "We got 4 four rooms, each one for us." He added as we were getting up the stairs with him....well, we're not sleeping in a dorm but damn....I would have liked to be with Park....

He presented to her the first room we came across and she took it, getting inside before she closed the door with a small grin on her face before Wolf led me to the second room that was just next to hers. It was kinda small but at least, it was better than the dorm itself back in West-Berlin. After showcasing me the room, he left me alone, allowing me to install myself in that temporary bedroom as I had a view on the city skyline. Once I was finished, I sat on the side of my bed, blank stare in front of me.

I was thinking all the way about Park and only her. I was happy to be with her, to love her and to be at her side and I thought that we were going to sleep in the same room for once....on the same bed but no, we were separated and it was normal since the other don't know of us. I removed my jacket.....before I decided to leave the room to join hers. I arrived in front of it, hesitating before I finally knocked.

"Come in !" I could hear her through the door in a low voice and I opened it, discovering her, sit on the side of the bed. "Yiri..." She smiled at me as I closed the door behind me and locked it.

"So, how do you feel ?" I asked, staying next to the door.

"Well, we're in the New Orleans, changing from West-Berlin and it's better !" She responded before getting up to move next to the bed's end. "About you ?" She asked back

"Same thing, can finally walk in here without been tied up." I joked as I moved to face her, looking around before our eyes finally met.

"Yirina...." She whispered before we both moved at the same time to kiss each other on the lips, getting our arms around each other and then, we fall on the bed still kissing passionately before I withdraw to take some air.

"Can.....Can I ?" I asked, looking at the scarf she had around her neck, wanting to remove it and surprisely, she took it off herself, revealing to me her scar that didn't change over time....still highlighting her beauty. I then leaned forwards to slowly give her kiss along her scar, making her to do silent groans, her hands posed on my back.

"Oh.....fuck...." She tried to speak, losing her own words as she was getting pleasured by me, I was moving my hands along her curves, still kissing her neck before she looked at me. "Remove them, we're doing this !"

"Your clothes ?" I asked, naive and she rolled her eyes in a lovely way.

"Yes....fuck the others, we're doing this now !" She repeated before she redressed herself to remove her own jacket, helped by me. She then started to remove her shirt too as we were both getting lost ourselves, doing the same thing for me....just loving each other, revealing to her the white bra I was using....and her red bra she was using.

"You're so gorgeous, Park !" I said, amazed by her body before I moved to give her kiss, starting by her neck, going down slowly before I reached her pants that I start to remove too.

"Yes, you're my world, Yiri." She whispered, making me remember my memory with her in the Dark Room as I was finished to remove her pants that I threw on the ground before I moved next to her underwear. She then get her bra off her, showing me her breasts. "Please, it's time to catch back our lost years !" She didn't move her eyes away from me.

"You're my world too." I breathed as I move her underwear to the side, showing me her clint, finally happy to have a moment that we should have done years ago. "I love you so fucking much, Helen Park !" I looked at her before I start to slowly lick her clint with my tongue, she start to be taken over by all the lust and pleasure, groaning at the same time, happy with me, and finally feeling free,

"My god....Yiri !"

#black ops cold war #bocw #call of duty cold war #cod cw #cod black ops cold war #cod cold war #fanfic #fem!bell #helen park

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harrylee94 · 3 years

Text

Log Entry XXXXXX - Chapter 5

Summary: A new space station, complete with the most high spec and up to date technology there is to offer, has been set up at the edge of the known universe, a new way point for explorers to keep in contact with the rest of the human race. It has been carefully designed by the best scientists and engineers Earth could offer, and now 7 brave souls are being sent out to ensure everything works perfectly.

However, when Logan wakes from cryosleep from the journey, he is informed that several things are now in need of repair, though everything had been in perfect working condition when the station had been reconstructed before he and his crew had arrived. They will have to solve the problems they’ve been left with before the station is up and running, and yet Logan can’t help but feel he’s done this before…

Relationships: Intrulogical (Remus/Logan)

Warnings: Blood, Gore, Parasites, Remus having an overactive imagination, It’s an Among Us crossover so there will be bad stuff afoot.

A/N: The ending was heavily inspired by this post, which I loved so much I had to include it!

For those of you who don’t know, this story is based off of a comic by @fangirltothefullest which I HIGHLY recommend you check them out on the link above! Their art is AMAZING.

Note to everyone before we begin; there will be graphic descriptions of gore, dismemberment, possibly torture, and any other awful things that come with the territory of writing a story in an Among Us universe.

Link to; Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

To read it on AO3 please click here.

Chapter 5: Log Entry #59

Stardate: October 17th XX20. 6:17 AM

Logan was tired. He’d lived the same six hours over fifty times now, give or take an hour or so each time, and not once had he been given a chance to rest. Though his body might have been able to handle the strain this time loop was creating due to its very nature, his mind could not. He had snapped at Remus for the first time today, had pushed him away before Remus pushed past his defences and held him close until he told him what was going on with the briefest of explanations.

Remus had become a Host to one of the parasites no more than five times, the lowest number of all the others barring himself, mostly because Logan had been with him almost all the time save for those four instances when they'd been separated, and yet, despite knowing that time had been reset, making the last run essentially non-existent, Logan still couldn’t bring himself to trust the man he loved most in the world until those arms were around him. He felt disgusted with himself for ever doing so, and the guilt still riddled him for being so frozen when it had happened that first time, but the experience took its toll.

The worst time had been when they had been forced to vent him, sending the feral creature in Remus’s form shooting into space. Logan had watched as he’d drifted slowly away, his body expanding, a small splatter of blood escaping his lips as the oxygen was pulled from his lungs, rupturing them, until he grew still. Waking up after that, despite knowing that the real Remus had been dead long before that moment, Logan had hovered over Remus as he recovered from falling out of his cryotube until, after that initial contact, he clung to his partner and sobbed into his shirt for a long time.

It was a similar situation to the one he was in now actually, sitting in Remus’s lap as the man hummed, swaying back and forth and rubbing at his back. He wanted to sleep here, to just drift off and forget all of this was happening. He needed to recharge, but he couldn't.

“I can tell them that the cryosleep messed you up,” Remus suggested softly, pressing a kiss to his hair. “We can say that you need time to recover and you can stay here and sleep.”

Logan shook his head. “But then everyone will die.”

“Sounds like we do anyway,” Remus said. It was supposed to be comforting, or at least reassuring that taking a break would be okay, but Logan couldn’t help but to flinch. “Okay, not the right thing to say, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re burning yourself out.”

“I can’t stop.”

“You have to.” Remus held his face softly in his hands. “Why don’t you go back to sleep? Rest. Recuperate. Even I know I have to stop every so often or I’ll crash worse than the Hindenburg.”

“I can’t leave you to face this alone,” Logan said, leaning into his hand.

“You’re not. You’ve told me what’s happening and where to find the information I need to prepare.”

“That’s not the same.”

“Well I’m not letting you leave this room.”

Logan scowled at his boyfriend. “They will kill you. They will pull you apart, shred you from within, vent you into space, turn you inside out-”

Remus stopped his words with his lips. Logan hated how he still couldn’t resist this, that he would still kiss him back with desperation when he knew it was a distraction, but he couldn’t resist. These moments were sometimes few and far between, and he clung to them like a man starved of affection.

“I would die for you a million times if I had to,” Remus said against his mouth as he pulled a little away, even as Logan followed him. “I can see how tired you are. Sleep.”

Logan shook his head. “I can’t. I won’t.”

“You have to, or you’ll collapse.”

“Then I’ll collapse.”

“Logan!”

He huffed. “I won’t be able to anyway. My body is well rested.”

“That’s what drugs are for,” Remus said with a roll of his eyes.

Drugs? “You mean sedatives?”

“That’s what I said.”

Even though Remus was giving him one of his many smirks, undoubtedly a little proud of himself, Logan could see the worry etched into the faint lines by his eyes and the edges of his mouth, even in the way his fingers were still holding onto his face a little harder than usual. Remus was scared for him and that was just about enough to convince him.

“Janus is in charge of the mission,” he said after deflating with a sigh. “Patton and Virgil are usually the targets of the parasites, though I haven’t been able to figure out why yet, just that they have been most frequently chosen as the hosts. Orange is usually the first victim, probably because he is the one with the most advanced knowledge of the reactor and the engines. And work with Roman when you can; I know you can be a formidable team when you get past your differences.”

Remus nodded to each point, even if he looked disappointed at not being chosen to be the new leader, and rubbed his thumb over Logan’s cheek. “You’re making the right decision.”

“The only right decision I’ve made since this started was telling you,” Logan said and turned his head to kiss Remus’s palm. “I could never regret you.”

“I love you too, Lo,” Remus said, pressing a kiss to his lips again. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“I know,” Logan replied, unable to keep his sadness from tainting his words. “You always are.”

_______________________________

Stardate: October 17th XX20. 6:00 AM

Logan woke with the rising light of the fake dawn. The sting of the needle from the sedative had vanished, and the tingle of the cryosleep still sat in his muscles. He sighed, closing his eyes as he remembered his last conscious moments and smiled to himself when he heard the familiar thump of Remus falling out of the cryotube. The sound was more comforting than he thought could be possible, especially considering Remus was getting hurt every time, but it was a confirmation that Remus was there, that even though all these horrible things were happening, he was still able to have these moments with the love of his life.

He did feel more rested now, even if not recovered completely (though he doubted there would be much that would help him recover from what he was experiencing), and he heaved his still aching body up to look down at the one that was groaning on the floor with a fond smile.

“You’re supposed to wait for your blood flow to return to normal,” he said, voice gravelly as it always was just after waking.

Remus groaned again and looked up with a squint and a blink before he rolled over and grinned up at him. “Hey, beautiful,” he said, his voice sending shivers up Logan’s spine. “Did they make a mistake at the gates of heaven, because I’m pretty sure I’m meant to be roasting with a spit up my butt right now and not looking at a beautiful angel.”

Logan grinned, blushing a little. “Are you sure I’m not some sort of demon here to trick you into Hell?”

“I’d follow you anywhere; heaven or hell” Remus said, and Logan hummed at the sound of awe the man made.

“I know you would,” Logan said, only for his smile to fall a fraction. “I’ve already led you to your death.”

Remus blinked at him again. “Huh?”

_______________________________

Stardate: October 17th XX20. 7:06 AM

“How many of those notes have you made?” Remus asked as Logan walked with him towards the storage room, having decided to start his journey there this time.

“Fifty-two,” Logan replied, waiting for the bar to finish loading while absently picking up the empty fuel container to set Orange up for refuelling later. “I have, unfortunately, been unable to make notes in some instances, though I have made up for some of those delays in future loops.”

“And you’ve relived this day…?”

“This will be my fifty-ninth time,” Logan replied, setting his tablet aside so he could fill up the container.

Remus whistled. “And you don’t even know how many times we’d gone through the loop before!”

Before? Oh, he should have thought of that. It was entirely possible that the first time he could recall living through this ‘cursed’ day (if he was using the expression correctly) was not in fact the first time he had lived it. No one else could remember after all, and he had not made any notes the first time, so there would have been no proof left behind.

“It’s getting kinda full there, Logie.”

Logan flinched and quickly turned off the tap before the container could spill. “I… had not considered that.”

“Well it kinda makes sense, doesn’t it?” Remus said, screwing the cap onto the container and pulling Logan’s hand into his. “Do you think anyone else will remember? One of the aliens maybe!”

“Please, don’t even suggest that!”

“Sorry.”

Logan took a deep breath to calm himself and banish the thought of an even more challenging experience, and nodded. “It’s possible.”

Remus hummed and gave his hand a squeeze. “Can I look at the notes?”

“Of course.” He reached for his tablet and handed it over without looking at the screen, prying his fingers away so he could go in search of the next container.

“Um, how many notes did you say you’ve made?” Remus asked, the light of the screen reflecting on the surface of his visor.

“Fifty-two,” Logan replied, finding the container behind a box. “Why?”

“Because there’s fifty-three.”

Logan paused. “... What does the last one say?”

“It doesn’t say anything,” Remus said. “It’s a video, but it says I have to access it in Communications.”

A video? “You must have made it. I was asleep all of… yesterday.”

“Should we watch it?”

“I think we all should.”

_______________________________

Stardate: October 17th XX20. 7:18 AM

“I don’t see why you couldn’t have done this earlier,” Orange said as he leaned against the wall, arms folded across his chest. “We’ve only been here for fifteen minutes. I haven’t had the chance to do anything yet.”

“Fifteen minutes is plenty of time to set up a deep space communications network,” Janus chipped in. “It’s not like we’ll need it or anything.”

“I am well aware that I am causing a great frustration to all of you, but I must insist on everyone watching this,” Logan said, still searching the system for the file.

“Haven’t we got more important things to be doing?” Virgil said. “Fixing the Station, maybe?”

“This is important,” Remus said, and Logan smiled. He’d stationed himself next to him, keeping watch on their team to make sure none of them would leave without making them feel trapped.

“Why?” Roman asked, suspicious.

“Because it is.”

His skills in defending this argument needed a little work though. At least now he’d found the file, and he opened it. A video file opened on the main screen as a black box, the play button waiting to be clicked.

“What’s the video about?” Patton asked as Logan stood up from his chair to allow everyone to see.

“I don’t know,” he replied softly and, taking Remus’s hand, pressed play.

For a few seconds the screen remained blank, only a timestamp in the corner counting the seconds giving any real indication of time passing as heavy breathing could be heard.

“Twelve thirty?” Janus said, looking at the numbers. “But the system-”

Whatever the man in yellow was about to say was lost as there was some rustling and the camera was uncovered. It was the Communications room from the perspective of the screen; the lights were off, but the screen was giving off enough light to reveal the mess the room had become. They couldn’t see the floor, but they could see that the door was closed, and there were streaks of what had to be blood across the wall.

And then there was the figure. Remus’s fingers tightened in Logan’s as they watched him haul Janus’s torso from the desk to set him down on the ground, the eyes already milking over. The body left a stain on his green suit, and when he looked back at the camera, it revealed that the visor on his helmet had been broken, a chunk of it missing entirely. He huffed and quickly removed it, tossing it aside.

He looked pale, his eyes holding an edge of mania, and his entire right ear and a section of his hair was missing dripping blood down his chin, which they saw with more clarity when Remus turned his head, his eyes on where the screen must have been. He laughed.

“Oh man, they got me good,” they said with a cracking voice, and Logan noticed a few side-glances towards them, but he was more focused on how the Remus on the screen was trembling ever so slightly. “Shit. I’m not going to have time to start this again, so uh, I’m sorry you had to see... “ He looked down at where he’d just put Janus’s body and swallowed. “They’ll be here any minute. I’ll be torn to shreds for sure.”

This laugh was broken and he sounded so close to snapping. “You told me! Patton and Virgil, you said. I kept an eye on them, but then Orange…” He shook his head. “Fuck. Fuck! Why did I let him leave?”

There was a bang on the door behind him and he spun around, but quickly turned back. “Rambling. Shit. They’ll get through-- I read all your notes. All of them. You’ve been through some fucked up shit, Logie! I mean, I believed you when you told me, but when I read it… This loop is fucked up.”

There was another bang.

“Oh Re~mus!” It was Patton’s voice, still so familiar and joyful, and yet punctuated with another hit to the door. “Come out and play!”

Remus had shut his eyes, leaning against the desk. “I watched them pull Roman’s heart out of his chest,” he said, a tear dripping from his cheek. “Janus is… Well, you saw that. Orange is scattered across one of the Engine rooms and they… they found you. They took you and they made me watch as they put you in the trash shoot and--” He cut himself off as another bang rattled the door and looked up into the camera, eyes filled with tears.

“You had to do that to me once. I don’t know how you survived. It felt like my soul was being torn out of my chest when I watched you die.” He wiped at his cheeks, wincing as he caught the torn flesh, but otherwise he didn’t seem to care. He looked down again, his face hidden by his hair. “I don’t know if this will even work, but I wanted to leave a note, like you do.” When he looked up again his face was scarily blank.

“Log Entry number fifty-three. The parasites have taken Patton and Virgil as hosts again. It was in the Medbay. They went after Janus first, as he was alone. There’s evidence they played with him before they pulled him in two.”

“Who are you talking to, Remus?” came Virgil’s voice from beyond the door. “We’re the only ones left.”

Remus stalwartly ignored them, eyes fixed on the camera. “Orange and I found the body. He left to fetch the fuel so we could try to burn whatever they are. I heard his screams when I found Virgil, or the thing he’d become, with Roman. My brother had been pinned to the wall by its tentacles, and it ripped his heart out as he begged for mercy.”

Another thud, this one louder than the others before it, and Remus flinched.

“They must have run out of energy or something, because they only captured me and dragged me into Storage. The Thing with Patton’s face had dragged your body off the shuttle. You were still asleep when they stuffed you in the trash shoot. I… I couldn’t tear my eyes away. I must have screamed myself hoarse.”

He looked over his shoulder as the metal of the door groaned with the next hit, then turned quickly back.

“I somehow managed to escape, though not before they did this.” He motioned to his missing ear. “I ran everywhere. I think I must have slipped in Orange’s blood when I found what was left of him in that Engine room, because I left footprints. This is the first room I could find without vents. You mentioned vents a lot.”

The door groaned again and bent a little behind Remus, but he didn’t look this time. He just smiled.

“I wish I could have done more. I wish I could have saved you, but… I know I’ll see you again. I’ll wake up and fall out of the cryotube and I’ll make you pesto pasta for breakfast just to try to make you smile. You’ll tell me about this fucking time loop and I’ll believe you, because I know you. I know you would never lie to me about this. And I will tell you I love you. I’ll tell you that you mean more to me than life itself. I’ll-”

The door behind him tore open, the metal shredding like cardboard, and the figures of Virgil and Patton stepped through. Remus tried desperately to reach something on the desk but he was pulled away by Patton, who had barely moved, before he was given the chance. Remus’s helmet flew at Patton before Janus’s followed, and the wheely chair started to move across the screen as Remus yelled profanities at the creatures.

Virgil and Patton, meanwhile, had begun to unfurl, their tentacles escaping and their bodies splitting into gaping maws.

“Now that wasn’t very nice,” Not-Patton said as he pulled a struggling Remus up into the air by his foot, even as he continued to try and fight. A second, third and fourth tentacle stretched out to hold him still, and still he struggled.

“Fuck you! Fuck both of you! You dickasses both deserve to-” Remus’s shouts became muffled as Not-Virgil covered his mouth and gave the struggling man a considering look.

“You know, you’ve always been so fond of medieval torture,” it said. “Why don’t we try that, what was it? Ah yes, being hung, drawn and quartered.”

“That sounds like fun!” Not-Patton said. “Let’s do it in the cafeteria. The tables are better there.”

Not-Virgil nodded with a double grin and helped drag the screaming Remus from the room.

It took Logan a few seconds to remember how to breathe, staring at the screen as the silence around him threatened to engulf him, but then Remus pulled him closer and gave him the best hug he could while they were still in their suits. Logan clutched back at him, turning away from the screen as Remus continued to stare at it over his shoulder, and his entire body flinched when his own agonised screams came from the speakers.

“So-someone turn it off,” Remus said, shaken but still standing strong somehow.

There was some shuffling and the screams suddenly cut off, making the silence somehow even more unbearable. Remus gave Logan another squeeze.

“That… that can’t be real,” Virgil said after a few more moments, the edges of panic staining his words. “I’m not… Patton and I…”

“Remus?” Roman said, and Logan pulled away from his partner enough so they could both turn towards the rest.

They were all in various states of shock or disbelief; Patton had tears streaming down his cheeks, Virgil was clutching at his body, Janus looked to be trying to figure out if it had been an elaborate joke or not, and Roman looked blank. Orange, however, was the only one to look somewhat angry, which Logan thought was fair considering the circumstances.

“It’s real,” Remus said, his eyes still on the screen as he spoke but they landed on his brother soon after. “Everything I… he said is true.”

“You can’t expect me to believe that,” Orange said with a snort. “It’s very clever though. Did you set it up before we left Earth?”

“He can’t have.” Janus said hesitantly. “The plans for the Station were kept confidential, to be released to the public after we’d already left, and no one else would have helped him gain access.”

Orange frowned. “That… That can’t be right. If it was then…”

“Is everybody okay?” Patton asked beyond the tears.

“Oh yes,” Janus drawled. “I absolutely love watching one of my best friends get dragged away to be tortured and killed. It hasn’t affected me at all. Especially not the part where he had to drag my own lifeless body away from the camera.”

“... Yeah, me too,” Patton said softly, and he leaned into the hand Roman had set on his shoulder. “How is this possible?”

“Remus was talking to Logan in the video,” Roman pointed out.

“I don’t know,” Logan said. “I… I haven’t been able to find an answer. There must be some sort of… rift or something. A black hole near our orbit that’s distorting the flow of time. There is so much we don’t know about them after all, and it’s possible, but I haven’t seen any that would be close enough to cause any real changes to the environment. Perhaps it’s the parasites themselves, but that doesn’t make any sense or they would remember as well, and that hasn’t happened. Not yet at least, and I hope it never does.”

“It won’t,” Remus said, and Logan graced him with a brief smile.

“Believe us or not, this is still a problem,” he continued. “The parasites only take a host after 9:30am, though I cannot tell you the exact time as it changes depending on a variety of variables, but it is always near the Medbay or the Reactor. I suspect they might be found in the vents but I cannot be certain.”

“Oh. Great,” Virgil said, Orange having to step to his side to guide him into the chair, He immediately ducked his head between his knees and Logan could hear him trying to control his breathing. Patton was at his side a moment later to hold his hand and help guide him through his breathing techniques.

“Perhaps we should have a codeword!” Roman suggested with forced charm. “Something to say to each other so we know if anyone’s… you know.”

Logan shook his head. “It wouldn’t work. The parasite essentially becomes us once it’s in our system. The host knows that it’s a host, that it was once human, they just don’t care anymore.”

“And how would you know that?” Janus asked.

“I’ve… been one, once,” Logan replied quietly, looking away as Remus’s hand squeezed him in comfort. It was really a miracle that he hadn't been caught again, and it had been a close call on a few occasions, but somehow that first time had remained the only time.

“What do you propose we do then?” Orange asked.

“We stick together, get through as many tasks as we can to get the Station back to full operation before the creatures emerge, and find a way to get them off the Station.”

_______________________________

Stardate: October 17th XX20. 10:35 AM

There had been no sign of the aliens. It had been an hour since they should have appeared, and yet there had been nothing but a growing sense of dread and, in Orange's case, annoyance. It was becoming increasingly clear that the engineer was growing impatient, and that his belief in the credibility of the video was tenuous at best. The further notes on what Logan had been able to assess from his observation of the creatures had not helped either, though the others had been enough to keep him satisfied for a time. However, it seemed that his patience had finally run its course.

"Look, you guys can all huddle together like scared little bunnies," he said, as they waited for Virgil to finish sorting out the medical supplies, "but we have a job to do, and we can't do it if we're doing everything one bit at a time!"

"Kiddo, we're trying to-" Patton started, but Orange huffed and started walking towards the door.

"Spare me," he spat. "I'll be in the engine rooms if anyone needs me, doing my job."

With that he stormed out of the Medbay, heading out of sight around the corner. Logan, who had been taking notes about their situation on his pad on the bed nearest the door, looked after him and didn't even blink when the door shut immediately after. He wouldn't have been able to reach him in time either way. He turned back around and gave Remus a look.

"That… that was you, right, Sherlock?" Roman asked as his brother heaved the mattress he'd been lying on off the bed frame. The lights went out a moment later and Patton squeaked in alarm as the room plunged into a pitch darkness.

"No," Logan replied, glancing up at the fading glow in the bulbs. "No it wasn't." He turned back to his pad and started to hack into the door to open it again.

The mattress hit the floor.

"Shit, where's the vent?" Remus cursed, and Logan could hear him dragging the mattress around.

"Over here." Janus.

"Get away from it," Remus growled, even as he dragged the mattress closer.

"Be careful," Patton said from next to Virgil, the two of whom were the only people visible thanks to the faint light of the isolated test lab.

Remus grunted and, after some sounds of shuffling, the mattress flopped down heavily again, this time with a slight echo.

"Got it," Remus said after a little more shuffling. "How are the doors, Lo?"

Logan tapped a few more keys and had the door ready to open. "I'll open it when you get here. We don't know if they're waiting for us out there."

"You mean Orange might be-?" Roman asked, but couldn't bring himself to finish.

"I believe it is all but certain," Logan confirmed, and he heard someone -- probably Patton or Virgil -- whimper.

There was some more shuffling and Logan turned his screen around to shed some light on the room. From the shadows cast and the sight his suit could offer him, he could just about see Roman coming slowly closer, his arms outstretched so he wouldn't go into anything. Janus, Remus, Patton and Virgil were all clustered as a group, Remus keeping his hand on Janus's shoulder as he glanced back at where the mattress (and therefore the vent) must have been while Virgil seemed to twitch at every sound.

Once everyone had reached him Logan slid off the bed and joined the cluster. "Let's go."

_______________________________

Stardate: October 17th XX20. 10:52 AM

Walking around so close together was not only cumbersome but also a little claustrophobic. Logan could hear every breath, every footstep, feel each unexpected touch and each slide of shoes against his own. Patton and Roman would occasionally whisper the breathing exercises to Virgil to keep him from panicking too much, but otherwise it was a slow walk in near silence.

They had walked through both engine rooms on their journey to Electrical, and while it was dark, there had been no sound of Orange on the entire journey. It was all but certain that he was now a Host. Now, however, they had all stopped to look into the ominous darkness of the room before.

"This doesn't feel like a trap at all," Janus said.

"Do you think Orange might be in there?" Patton asked.

"Either that, or the second parasite is lying in wait," Logan replied, squeezing Remus's hand. "Either way, something has to be in there."

"So someone's either going to end up becoming a big tentacle monster with a mouth that tears their body in two, or they're going to end up as a kebab," Remus said with a nod. "I think I'd prefer kebab myself."

"I would prefer it if neither situation happened," Roman said, Virgil making a noise of agreement.

There were a few seconds where nothing happened, but then Logan sighed and released Remus's hand to step forward; or at least he tried to.

"What are you doing?" he asked, Remus's hold having only grown stronger.

"I'm not letting you go in there alone."

"Who said I was doing that?"

"You did." Remus caught his shoulder and turned in to face him. "You're never silent in group projects."

Logan clenched his jaw. "You know me too well."

"You know me better," Remus said with a slow grin.

Logan huffed in annoyance but turned back to the others. "The fuse box is at the back, next to a vent," he said. "If we stick together and keep an eye on it then we should be able to get through this easily enough."

"And if Orange is in there?" Virgil asked.

Logan shared a look with Remus (as much as he could in the almost complete darkness anyway). "We will have to… take action."

"... Oh," Virgil said, sounding a little queasy.

In a way Logan envied their naivety. He envied their ability to hope for a better solution, their expectations of getting out of this alive, but his own experiences had worn that away. He had always been defined by the truths and facts that had become his life, but now even that was being worn away, and he knew he was becoming more jaded in each loop.

"Let's get this over with," Roman said, bringing Logan out from his thoughts.

The scientist nodded and pulled Remus after him into Electrical. "The fuse box is just around-"

The door slammed shut, cutting the couple off from everyone else.

“-... the corner.”

Remus stepped closer as a few bangs came from the door. “We’re dead, aren’t we.”

Logan swallowed. “Yes.”

Remus hummed. “These aliens; they take on our memories when they take us for a host?”

“I… yes, that’s right.”

“And we just want to kill everyone in sight.”

“Yes,” Logan replied, trying to block out the noises that were coming from outside the door. He needed all of his senses if he was going to get them both through this, though every calculation he was making was only leading them towards one bloody and awful end. “You’re just… angry, and there’s this hunger, and you crave it. Nothing from before matters. You simply loath humanity.”

Remus hummed again, and they both froze when they saw something moving in the dark. Logan was so focused on it that he barely registered the click-hiss that came from beside him, from Remus, and he only understood that he had removed his helmet when he was shoved back into the wall behind them.

“No!”

He could see it happening, the lights of the Medbay blinding in his memory as Remus threw himself forwards, but this time he would not be frozen. There was shouting coming from the other side of the door as he pushed himself off the wall, chasing Remus into the dark, but when the love of his stopped short and Logan crashed into his back, he knew he was too late.

“Remus,” he breathed, catching him as his knees gave out and holding him close as he choked on his own blood. “Oh God, what did you do?”

Remus grinned. “Saved… you.”

There was no time to argue, and the smile fell quickly to a cough as the parasite ravaged his body, making its home inside him. “Yes. You saved me, Remus,” he said, all but tearing his own helmet from his head. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

He kissed Remus’s blood spattered lips and carded his fingers through his hair as the door opened, ten seconds too late.

“L-Love… yo-you,” Remus stuttered, only to choke, his body stiffening as the shaking began.

“I love you too,” Logan said, vaguely aware that the others were talking, that someone was moving, and a second later the lights were on again.

There were tears streaming down Remus’s cheeks, and tears running down his own. He could see the patches of red where the parasite was chewing away at Remus’s body, seeping into the fibres of the suit, and Remus struggled with himself until he roared in pain. Logan watched as it clouded his eyes, his gaze only briefly leaving his partner’s when Roman tried to come to their side, but was mercifully held back by Virgil and Patton.

“It’s okay,” he muttered as Remus’s body slowly went limp in his arms. “I love you, Remus. I love you. It’s going to be okay.”

The dark threads he had seen before started to seep from each blood-soaked spot, crawling out to start encompassing Remus’s body, and he choked on a sob, holding Remus closer. All too soon the body was completely encompassed, and the shape in his arms congealed with the pressure he was exerting with his arms. Someone tried to pull him away but he shook them off.

“I’ll distract him,” he said, though the tears threatened to choke him.

“Logan-”

“Go!”

There was only a brief hesitation before they left. He tried not to think of the anguish in Roman’s eyes.

As the mass in his arms solidified back into the shape of his lover, his strands of hair growing back between Logan’s fingers, he looked into those eyes that he had grown to love and saw the brief flash of recognition.

“Logan…” Remus said, the pain gone but the fear he had seen before still hanging onto its last threads, but then even that was snuffed out, and all that was left was a growing hunger. The grin that stretched Remus’s lips grew inhumanly wide as sharp tendrils extended out from him to puncture Logan in every way possible. He gasped as he clung to Remus’s form, vowing to never let this happen again.

“You smell delicious.”

_______________________________

Stardate: October 17th XX20. 6:00 AM

Logan woke with wet cheeks. The light of the cyrodeck had never felt so cold.

#fanfiction #sanders sides #among us #sanders sides among us au #sanders side fic #logan sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #orange sanders #tw blood #tw gore #tw character death #time loop #writing

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