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dream-a-little-bigger-x · 2 months

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The Stranger | Spencer Reid

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Your usual CriMi stuff. Guns. Someone's being shot.

Author's note: Was on my nth rewatch when I thought about this. It's basically season 6 episode 21 - The Stranger. This isn't any good, but I needed to let the idea out and figured I could share it with you.

Words: 4.939

“It’s so unnecessary. There’s too much blood and gore and… bleh…”

When Spencer invited me to the horror movie festival at the cinema complex in town, I didn’t expect it to be a group activity. For a stupid, naive moment, I thought the resident genius had actually asked me out on a date but when Penelope and Derek rocked up, I realized it wasn’t a date.

I had been working at the BAU for about four years. When I first started working there, it was very hard for me to merge with the already super tight group. I didn’t want to impose, so I merely stayed in the background and only did what was asked of me. Until there was one time where I didn’t agree with our boss, Aaron Hotchner, and told that right to his face.

Ever since, the team held me in high esteem, even Aaron.

It also brought me and Spencer closer together. Our bond had grown stronger on the field, and subsequently also off the field. I can’t remember at what point we started hanging out after work, too, but it was long before I actually started to develop feelings for my coworker.

So, when he asked me out to the movies, my heart leapt with joy.

I had donned a cute outfit, did my hair and makeup all prettily, despite having just come off a twelve-hour workday.

And then Penelope and Derek joined and I realized Spencer had not only asked me, but our coworkers, as well. It stung, at first, but in the end, I had such a nice time that I didn’t care for it as much anymore.

“Garcia, it’s a slasher film,” Spencer retorted to our blonde coworker. “How do you do a slasher film without violence?”

“You imply it,” Penelope said, almost angrily.

“Baby, the movie is called Slice 6. What were you expecting?” Derek questioned, grinning.

Penelope’s eyes widened, an answer at the ready. “Uh, a refreshing beverage with a twist of comedy.” Spencer and I chuckled at the same time, and our eyes met for a second. “I’m gonna have nightmares for a week.”

I tilted my head slightly so I could look past Spencer at Penelope. “With everything that we do and see on a daily basis, that got to you?” I asked her.

“Listen, Blaze, you may be all Sigourney Weaver ass-kicking tough, which is awesome–” I giggled at the nickname Penelope had baptized me with on that day I stood up against Hotch. “But the mystical mavens of innocence like myself jump at things that go bump in the night.”

Penelope was so intense and dramatic most times, it was my favorite thing about her.

“Why are you worried? I’m sure that Morgan will protect you,” Spencer added, then looked up at me to share in the upcoming joke. “As long as he’s not jumping out of his chair like a prepubescent schoolgirl.”

The three of us laughed at Derek’s expense before he started to defend himself. “The only reason I jumped is ‘cause you guys woke me up.”

“How could you sleep during that?” Penelope asked, grabbing onto Derek’s bicep. It gave me the urge to do the same with Spencer, but I withheld myself from doing so. Instead, I looked up at him and studied his features for a second.

His side profile really was remarkable. With his sharp jawline and his button nose. I liked his hair short, in comparison to how long it was just a year prior. I liked the dimples in his cheeks when he smiled and I liked how his tie was perpetually crooked. I knew I shouldn’t fall for my coworker, but with Spencer, you couldn’t help but fall for him.

“Villain,” Spencer’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

“What?” Derek asked, which reassured me he wasn’t talking to me.

“In movies, UnSubs are called “villains”.”

Derek chuckled. “My bad.”

As the four of us continued our walk towards the car, I couldn’t help my mind to wander. While I was disappointed it wasn’t an actual date, I actually really enjoyed it. Mostly because I had Spencer whispering facts into my ear about the movie or things that didn’t make a lot of sense scientifically, calming the fear that had built up inside of me due to the suspense.

“Do you wanna know why horror movies are so successful?” Spencer then asked us.

I couldn’t help but smile while Derek asked, “Why’s that, Genius?”

“They prey on our instinctual need to survive,” he started. “In tribal days, a woman’s scream would signal danger and the men would return from hunting to protect their pack. That’s why it’s always the women and not the men who fall victim to the bogeyman.”

I smiled and finally stopped fighting my instincts to grab his arm. “Count on you, Reid, to break a movie down to science,” I said, softly squeezing the fabric of his coat. Almost like a secret code to tell him that I loved it when he whispered facts to me during the movie. “My favorite thing about horror movies is the suspense factor,” I then continued.

“Oh, the ticking clock,” Spencer added, eyes widened slightly for dramatic effect.

I wiggled my eyebrows, a grin tugging at my lips as I lowered my voice to a suspenseful hush. “The helpless victim walks through the dark… Shadows reaching out to get her.”

Then, Spencer went on, his voice lowering an octave to add a bit of spookiness to his own words. “A sudden noise draws her attention. Is someone there–” He leaned down to say in my ear, “or is it just in her head?”

“It’s totally unrealistic,” Penelope cut through our scary-movie-rundown. “No one should be walking through a dark alley by themselves at night.”

Derek cleared his throat, drawing attention to himself. “Hello?”

“Ah, no one should be walking through a dark alley without a Derek Morgan by their side,” Penelope corrected herself, grinning up at the man beside her.

“But the best part of a horror movie,” Spencer went on. “You never know when the end is gonna come.”

In my mind, I thought, I don’t think I wanna know when the end is gonna come, though I was only thinking of the end of our night.

“Well, I think the end of this lovely night has come,” Derek said when we had reached the cars and Pen was stifling a yawn. “Another day at work tomorrow,” he reminded us as though we needed it.

Spencer had carpooled with Penelope and Derek. They had just returned from work while I had to go home first to feed my cat. But instead of joining them by Derek’s car, he remained by my side, even though I had let go of his arm to do so. Seemingly having noticed this, Derek looked at his coworker.

“You coming with us, Reid?” he asked.

Glancing over at me, he shook his head. “I think we’ve learned from this movie that we should never leave a woman alone during the night. I’ll see to it that Blaze gets home safe.”

A flutter erupted in my stomach whilst heat crept up to my cheeks. I was lucky that it was so dark, so no one would be able to notice. “Oh, that’s fine, Spence. I’m sure I won’t be murdered on the way home.”

“No, I insist,” he said and stepped forward towards my car.

Penelope grinned and winked at me before saying, “Well, Blaze, seems you’ve got your very own knight in shining armor.”

Completely ignoring the effect this insinuation had on my body, I chuckled. “More like brains in shining armor, you mean.”

Only momentarily, and only to give me a hug, Penelope let go of Derek’s arm. “Tell him how you feel tonight,” she whispered into my ear.

Penelope Garcia was the sole confidante privy to my secret crush on Spencer. Surrounded by a team of keen profilers, one might assume others would catch on, yet fortunately, my feelings remained unnoticed by all except Penelope. It was she who skillfully coaxed the admission from me. Since then, our weekly girls' nights became a sanctuary, overflowing with ice cream and dissecting Spencer Reid's flirtations of the week. Penelope's enthusiasm often led me to believe Spencer reciprocated, only for reality to swiftly dispel such notions upon our next encounter.

“You know I won’t,” I whispered back, only to earn a glare from the blonde.

“Bye, my loves!” Penelope waved as she made a beeline towards Derek’s car.

Once Spencer and I had returned the goodbyes to our coworkers, we got into my car. Silence engulfed us, only broken by the soft hum of the engine and soon thereafter, the music playing from the radio. I felt a tingle on the back of my neck, suddenly completely aware that I was all alone with my best friend.

“Did you enjoy the movie?” He then asked when we drove off.

I hummed. “Mm-mmm, yeah. My favorite moment was when the slicer’s brother was in the closet. I did not see that coming.” From the corner of my eye, I caught Spencer’s wide smile and the nod of his head.

“Yeah, I noticed that. I believe you nearly broke my hand from how hard you were squeezing it.”

My cheeks flushed again at the memory of us holding hands during the movie, just because I was scared. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered, chuckling.

“No, don’t be,” he said. “I didn’t mind it.”

When I looked over at him for a split second, he was already looking at me, giving me a warm smile. Spencer had the most beautiful smile, one that reached his eyes with a twinkle. Not falling in love with this man was impossible.

During the car ride, the two of us rehashed our favorite parts of the movie before we lapsed into conversation about work. It was inevitable not to talk about the most recent case we had as it was still so fresh in our minds.

“Why don’t you come up for a moment?” Spencer asked when we had arrived at his place. “I can tell you’re still a bit shaken up from the case and the movie hasn’t done much good to help that feeling.”

I hesitated. It wasn’t like I hadn’t been to his apartment before, we’d spent many a day together after hours, just hanging out. But the idea that this evening was a date still haunted the back of my mind. Then again, the idea of being home alone with the anxiety still sitting on my chest didn’t entice me either.

“Uhm, sure,” I heard myself say before unbuckling and putting the car in park.

His apartment was cold when we walked in. We had been on the case for a couple of days, so Spencer had turned down the heating, of course. Whilst he took care of turning it back on, I kicked off my shoes and went to find a blanket to wrap around me in hopes it would warm me up a bit.

As I waited for Spencer to return, I replied to a couple of messages from my mother, my sister and Penelope that I had missed during the movie or, in the last case, during the drive home.

Tell him!!!

Penelope’s message read, but it was quickly forgotten when Spencer returned with cups of tea, handing one over to me before sitting down next to me. The steam of the hot beverage wafted in my face and the aroma of it alone told me it was chamomile tea, my favorite.

As Spencer and I settled onto the cozy couch, steaming cups of tea in hand, the ambiance of the dimly lit room enveloped us in a sense of tranquility. Conversation flowed effortlessly between us, seamlessly transitioning from discussions about our latest case to lighter, more random topics. Spencer's animated gestures and thoughtful insights never failed to captivate me, his intellect a constant source of admiration.

Lost in our exchange, time seemed to slip away unnoticed, until the credits of the movie we had intended to watch began to roll. With a shared chuckle, we realized we had become so engrossed in conversation that we hadn't even started the film. Determined not to let the evening go to waste, we decided to press play anyway.

However, the warmth of the room combined with the soothing rhythm of the movie soon lulled us into a state of relaxation. Before we knew it, our eyes grew heavy, and the soft cushions of the couch beckoned us into a peaceful slumber. Side by side, cups of tea empty on the coffee table, we drifted off into a contented sleep, the gentle glow of the screen casting a serene aura over the room.

I was startled awake the next morning by the sound of my phone ringing and buzzing on the coffee table. Slowly but surely, my brain started to wake too, which was the moment it dawned on me where I was and what was happening.

Spencer and I had fallen asleep on the couch, my head on his shoulder, his arm wrapped around me. The idea of it alone sent shivers down my spine. Though I couldn’t revel in the feeling for too long when my mind snapped back to the ringing on the coffee table.

Garcia was calling me.

“Hello?” I greeted, unsure about what she was calling me about.

“Sorry to be calling so early, my sweetling, but duty’s calling,” she informed me. “So, get Reid up and get your sweet asses to the BAU.” At the mention of his name, my eyes flicked towards Spencer next to me. He was rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, making him look like an adorable toddler.

The words finally registered in my brain, causing me to furrow my brows in confusion. “Wait– How do you–”

“I came to pick you up at your place, but when you weren’t here, I figured you’d have stayed at Spencer’s considering the movie we watched last night,” she explained with that cheeky tone in her voice that told me she was smirking all the way through.

I cleared my throat as I removed the blanket from my body. “Right – We’ll be right there.”

“Drive careful, my love. Toodaloo.”

Once Penelope had hung up, I nudged Spencer along. The two of us got ready in silence before heading out the door and getting into my car. We only stopped at the coffee shop at the corner of the street where Spencer got us both coffees.

Entering the BAU, the two of us were quickly joined by some of the team, though only Penelope shot me a knowing look at the outfit I was wearing; yesterday’s clothes. Rossi, however, was only interested in hearing about the movie we watched, which Spencer was all too happy to divulge into.

“What we didn’t see coming was that the slicer’s brother was in the closet,” he mentioned, which made me smile. It was the exact moment we had talked about the night before.

“Frightening,” Rossi commented as the four of us moved through the hallways.

“Did you tell him?” Penelope asked in a whisper, hooking her arm with mine.

I shook my head. “I chickened out,” I said, earning a stern glare from the blonde. “I just– I don’t want anything to change between us, Pen. We’re in a really good place right now a-and I don’t wanna blow that.”

“Speaking of horror,” Rossi’s comment had us all stopping in our tracks when we noticed Strauss talking to Hotch in his office.

The four of us looked at the scene in front of us as Spencer asked, “What’s Strauss doing here?”

“Whatever it is, I cast my vote on “not good”,” Penelope replied.

The four of us piled into the briefing room where Derek already was, ready to be presented with the case. It took a few moments before Hotch joined us, undoubtedly getting a stern talking to from Strauss. “Let’s get started,” he muttered once he walked through the door.

Penelope briefed us about the case and we were soon on the jet to San Diego, bouncing theories off one another with the first impressions we had about the case. As we started building the profile, the UnSub attacked again, leaving us with four victims before we were able to give a profile.

While Morgan, Rossi and Hotch delivered the profile to the rest of the police department, Spencer and I were tasked to inform the officers on-campus. The entire time we were there, Spencer allowed me to do most of the talking, only chiming in when he felt necessary. It was the perfect dynamic of going back-and-forth.

Spencer and I turned away from the girls we had been talking to and convened together a little further away, bouncing theories off each other. I was in the middle of a sentence when Spencer reached out and wiped my cheek with his thumb.

"Eyelash," he said, showing me the single lash he had caught on his thumb. The tantilizing electricity zapped between us, sending shivers down my spine.

Before I could say anything else, we were whisked away on the next part of our case. There was never a moment to breathe.

There were two more victims after that, two in one go before we found who the UnSub could be. As we all geared up to get Greg Phinney, Spencer turned towards me with a worried look on his face.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Will you be careful?” his question was intertwined with mine, making it almost impossible to hear it.

I wasn’t sure where this sudden worry had come from. We’d been doing fine for over four years. He had never worried about me until now. “Of course. Always.”

With a quick nod, Spencer turned on his heel to join Derek while I tagged along with Hotch and Rossi. Soon enough, we were informed that Greg Phinney wasn’t at his own apartment and that we’d better floor it towards Kate’s. It was a whirlwind of phone calls and theories and words until Hotch snapped me out of it.

“y/l/n, I want you to come in with me. Leave your firearm here.” There was no time to object, so I handed my gun over to the officer next to me before falling into step with my boss. “Be compassionate and sympathetic to him. Let him tell you how Kate betrayed him and how much you understand his devastation,” he informed me.

I simply nodded my head and with feigned confidence, I knocked on the mahogany door. As the door softly creaked open, a chill swept through me, raising the fine hairs on the back of my neck.

Greg's appearance was ordinary yet unsettling, his features shrouded in an eerie stillness. His eyes, a piercing blue, bore into mine with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. They seemed to hold secrets untold, each glance a silent invitation into the depths of his darkness.

His jawline was sharp, set in a firm line that betrayed no emotion. A hint of fear pooled in his eyes, sending a ripple of unease coursing through me. It was as if he knew something I didn't, as if he held the upper hand in a game whose rules remained a mystery.

In that moment, as our eyes locked in a silent standoff, I couldn't shake the feeling that Greg Phinney was more than just a suspect—he was a predator, waiting patiently in the shadows for his next opportunity to strike.

“I never said you could bring in anyone else,” he said to Hotch, but keeping his eyes on mine.

“I know, but I thought if we talked inside we could work this out ourselves,” I retorted, surprising myself with the amount of strength that was audible in my voice.

Greg blinked. “Are you some kind of a negotiator?”

I didn’t respond, but waited for Greg to make the first move. He looked out towards the police cars standing behind me, officers ready to go in when necessary.

“No guns,” he finally said.

“No guns,” I agreed.

Greg opened the door further, revealing that he had Kate in a chokehold with one arm and a knife against her throat, a gun in his other hand. “Okay,” he whispered and cocked his head to the side, urging us to come in. He moved towards the living room with Kate as Hotch and I followed behind.

“Close the door,” he ordered to Hotch, who obeyed politely. “All right. Stand over there.”

Hotch moved over towards the spot Greg was pointing at. “You need to put the gun down,” he said.

“We need to get out of here. Is that gonna happen?” Greg asked instead.

“As long as you’ve got a gun, if one of the agents outside has a clear shot, he’ll take it.”

Inhaling deeply, regaining my determination, I took a tentative step forward. “Tell me what you want, Greg.”

“You know, I don’t want to get locked up again,” said Greg, still holding on very tightly to Kate with a knife against her throat and a gun waving around.

A thousand ideas were whirling inside my head until I landed on one. “Don’t you really want Kate to apologize for making your dad forget your mom?” I asked, cautiously and very slowly approaching Greg.

“No, I didn’t do that though,” Kate chimed in.

My eyes flicked towards Kate, my jaw clenched and my eyebrows furrowed in feigned anger. “Unless the next words out of your mouth are “I’m sorry”, I don’t wanna hear anything else from you.” When I looked back at Greg, I made sure to soften my features. “I understand, Greg. I do. She took care of you. You trusted her. And then she betrayed you as soon as your mother was gone. It must have crushed you when Kate married your dad. How did it make you feel, Greg?”

Greg didn’t know what was happening. I could see the gears behind his eyes whirling whilst he became more and more agitated.

“I’m sorry,” Kate whimpered.

“You felt betrayed, didn’t you, Greg?” I continued, certain of my tactics and it seemed Hotch was on the same page I was.

“Ask her the question, Greg,” he said. Greg looked at my boss in surprise. “Go ahead.” The young man opened his mouth to ask the question he wanted to ask, but hesitated. “Ask her,” Hotch ordered again.

Then, the question Hotch and I had both anticipated rolled off Greg’s lips. “Why not me?” A single tear slipped down Kate’s cheek. “Why not me?!” he asked louder.

“Answer him, Kate,” Hotch ordered.

Kate whimpered and gasped for air before her answer came out in a whisper. “Because you were just a … boy.”

Glancing from Kate towards us and back, Greg said, “But I loved you,” and he almost sounded incredulous as if he couldn’t believe she would never reciprocate his feelings. He tightened the knife against Kate’s throat and I knew something needed to happen. “I loved you.”

Hushed apologies rushed from Kate’s lips as Greg continued to declare his love for the old babysitter.

Behind them, I noticed Rossi sneaking up, gun aimed. Hotch was quick to dive away and as Greg turned, wanting to fire back, I took the opportunity to grab Kate and bring her to safety in a small hallway to our right. Two gunshots went off.

Greg fell to the floor against the sofa. Through the whirlwind happening in my mind, I heard Hotch call for backup as he himself approached the unconscious young man, discarting him of his firearm before checking his pulse.

Once the scene was deemed safe, I guided the distraught Kate outside where I brought her to the EMT’s to get checked up. I made sure she was all right before turning to rejoin my coworkers on the scene when another EMT stopped me.

“Agent y/l/n, is that your blood?” she asked, pointing at my left arm.

When I looked down, the sleeve of my burgundy long sleeve shirt had turned even darker and was slightly ripped. Only then did I realize that the second gunshot wasn’t Rossi firing twice. It had been Greg, wanting to shoot at Rossi but instead nicking my arm.

“Huh,” I said before everything went completely dark.

“You fainted at the sight of blood?” Morgan’s voice chimed through the hospital foyer when he came to pick me up afterwards. I was cleared to go after being treated for the gunshot wound that had grazed my skin. Though I didn’t think it was so bad, I still had to wear a sling for a couple of days.

I shrugged as the two of us fell into step to walk out to the car. “You know, I think it was the adrenaline of it all more than the blood itself,” I retorted with a giggle and hopped into the passenger’s seat while he took the driver’s.

“There’s someone who isn’t all too happy with your actions,” he commented.

I furrowed my brows. “Who?” I asked, certain it wasn’t our boss since it was all his idea.

“Reid, of course,” he replied as though I should’ve known the answer. For a fleeting moment, our eyes met before Morgan focused back on the road. “I think it’s time you and Reid had a good conversation because this is ludicrous.”

Before I could even ask him about any of it, we had arrived at the airport where everyone was waiting for us on the jet. Determined to ask Spencer about what was wrong, I approached him but as soon as he saw me, he put on his headphones. Okay, that’s clear, I thought and instead sat down on the other side of the jet.

“Hey,” Rossi captured my attention. “Good job today, kid.”

I mustered up the best smile I could give. “Thanks, Dave.”

All the way back to Quantico, I pondered about what might be happening inside that genius’ brain. Why could he be upset about me doing my job? He had gotten into danger more often than I had, much to my dismay. Those had been the most harrowing cases; where I’d almost lost him or any of our other team members.

I tried to talk to him when we got back to the BAU, but he simply walked past me and ignored me completely. Though he was going to change his course in a couple of days, I didn’t have much patience for that. So, after a frustrating shower and a change of clothes, I rocked up to his apartment in a fury.

“What the hell did I do wrong that you don’t want to talk to me?!” I asked as soon as he opened his door, pushing past him and dropping my back on the sofa.

“Are you kidding?” he asked, then scoffed. “You put yourself in danger and I’m not allowed to be angry?!” His voice matched mine, the anger dripping from his words.

I shook my head. “No! You put yourself in danger more often than I have and I have never been allowed to be angry at you! I was doing my job, Spence! A dumb bullet just grazed my skin. It’s not like I was inside a building that exploded or got shot in the fucking knee! I’m fine!”

Spencer’s face faltered. His eyes fell to the floor as he tucked his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. “I was… I was scared to lose you, y/n. I heard you were shot and you were in the hospital and I just… I couldn’t believe Hotch would ever put your life in danger like that. I just– I can’t stand to lose you.”

Suddenly everything clicked in my mind. Every subtle touch, every glance sent my way, all the coffees he’d bought me or when he ordered my favorite food on cases, … All along, Spencer Reid might have felt the same way for me as I did for him.

As he kept on babbling about how he was so scared to lose me and what the statistics are of people in our field dying during cases, I took a few tentative steps towards him until I was mere inches before him. For a heartbeat, I hesitated, but then a surge of confidence boosted me. I lifted his chin between my index finger and thumb, forcing him to meet my eyes before I softly kissed his lips.

For a second, I thought I’d made the wrong move until he kissed me back. His lips moved with passion and fervor, his hands covering the sides of my face while my hands moved to his waist, fingers gripping at his shirt.

In the midst of our passionate embrace, the weight of unspoken words hung heavy in the air, mingling with the heat of our entwined bodies. With each tender caress and fervent kiss, it was as if a lifetime of longing was finally being released, flooding our senses with an overwhelming rush of emotion. In that moment, there was no room for doubt or hesitation, only the undeniable truth of our connection, burning brighter than any statistic or fear. As we lost ourselves in the sweet surrender of our love, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, bound by a love that was as unstoppable as it was undeniable. And as the world faded into the background, all that mattered was the beating of our hearts, entwined in a timeless rhythm of love and devotion.

Everything taglist: @calamitykaty @n0wornever @wanniiieeee @unnowhatthisistbh

Criminal Minds Taglist:

@kenseverything @samsbirks @tinaasthings @dysphoricsanity @love4lando @elenamoncada-ibarra @r-3dlips @magstheslayer @astess @sylvcaplath @tillypettitt @mordechaisworld @ssameadows @spikedhe4rt @spencers-bookworm @littlemissaddict @kirbybean

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader

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stevie-petey · 6 months

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episode three: holly, jolly

Jonathan, your Jonathan, would never do this. He tries to approach you again but you find yourself stumbling back, knocking against Steve’s chest. Hurt flashes in his eyes, you’ve never flinched at Jonathan’s touch, but what he did has changed everything. Steve places a hand on your shoulder. “See, you can tell that he knows it was wrong, but that’s the thing about perverts. It’s hard-wired into them. They just can’t help themselves.” He begins tearing up the pictures, and you can’t believe Jonathan of all people is making you agree with Harrington, yet here you are.

summary: you and jonathan talk it out and things are better (spoiler alert: they aren't), you somehow end up agreeing with steve harrington ?? then you have a minor breakdown in front of the kids and once again fail to prevent them from experiencing more trauma.

rating: general, slight cursing.

warnings: cursing, use of the word “slut”, fem!reader, use of y/n, and description of a dead body. this chapter is pure angst, steve is steve, jonathan is jonathan, and... well. we know how this episode ends.

words: 6.2k

before you swing in: hello ! i'm currently in the early stages of chapter 5, and it's a loooong chapter, so i figured i'd treat y'all to this one before taking my time with updating. this chapter was a bit difficult in terms of bug and jonathan, but i promise that they'll have more time later to really figure out why they keep clashing - for better or for worse lol. if their relationship feels stilted: that's why ! after all, season 1 is literally titled: we don't talk about it or have the time. the title has immense meaning for the overall tone of season 1 (and the song for the series shhh). anyways, enjoy <3

The next day you bike to school alone, not bothering to see if Jonathan’s car will pick you up as usual.

The two of you have never fought before, at least not like this. From the moment you met him when you were twelve, there has never been a time where the two of you haven’t been on the same page. You’ve been in sync from the moment you met.

Now it feels like everything is off between the two of you. It feels as if the tiny planet you live on is now off kilter, angled ever so slightly now, rotating out of sync. The change is almost imperceptible, but it’s there. You can feel it.

Last night just proved that there’s something wrong with your relationship with Jonathan, but you can’t figure out what.

Jonathan has never yelled at you before, and you’ve never turned your back on him; then again, he’s also never kept anything from you. While he didn’t admit it last night, you know him. He was hiding something from you last night and it frightens you that he seems too ashamed to tell you what it is.

You trust him, you do, but the guilt you saw in his eyes makes you uneasy.

As you walk the school hallway towards your locker, you overhear some girls from your English class talking about Steve and Nancy. You normally wouldn’t eavesdrop on such a conversation, but the girls were talking obnoxiously loud and by the tone of their voice, they weren’t being kind about what they were saying.

“I heard Harrington got little Miss Wheeler to sleep with him.” One of the girls giggles, looking around to make sure no one is listening.

“What a slut!” Her friend sneers.

You clear your throat loudly, making sure they hear it, and send a glare their way. “Well, aren’t you guys just peachy?”

The girls lower their eyes and shift uncomfortably, which pleases you. Good. They should feel bad. What does it matter if Nancy slept with Harrington? It’s always the girls who get labeled the slut, never the man who has slept with more girls than classes he’s passed.

Typical.

You roll your eyes at them and continue towards your locker, spotting the couple in question up ahead. Your locker is a few down from Nancy’s and usually you’ve been able to avoid their gross lovey-dovey sessions in the mornings since Jonathan is always running late, but since you didn’t ride with him, you’re forced to deal with two hormonal teens who you don’t necessarily like.

“Hey, Henderson!”

Steve stops you as you walk past, causing you to look up in confusion. “Yeah?”

“How’s Byers doing? Ya know, with everything going on?”

You stare at him, trying to figure out what the punchline is supposed to be. Steve may not be a massive dick, but he’s still a dick, and you can’t imagine he’d ever ask about Jonathan given the fact that he can’t even remember Will’s name.

“He’s… dealing.” You say, uncomfortable with the entire conversation.

Steve nods, letting out a slight hum. “Well, tell your guy that any friend of Henderson’s is a friend of mine.” He sends a wink Nancy’s way, and it’s then that you figure out what he’s doing. He’s playing the nice guy card, trying to impress her with his “generosity”, and you’ve had enough of idiotic and emotionally constipated men these last 24 hours.

“Funny, I don’t tell my friends to get fucked, yet here we are: get fucked, Harrington.” Steve’s eyes widen at your words, taken aback, and Nancy goes to say something but you cut her off. “You sure know how to pick ‘em, Nancy. Why don’t you ask him why everyone’s staring at you? I’m sure it’ll be a thrilling conversation.”

You shove past the two of them and make your way to class.

–

You don’t see Jonathan for your next three classes, which only makes your shitty day worse. Not only have you guys never fought before, but you’ve never done the silent treatment either. As far as you can tell, there’s no reason for him not to be in class today besides your fight the night before.

When it’s your lunch hour you try to find him, because at this point you just want to put it all behind you and move on to focus on Will. You never got the chance to tell Jonathan about El last night, you hadn’t had the time to before things blew up.

You wait at your usual corner of the lunchroom for Jonathan, but he never appears. You sigh in defeat and pick at your meal, which honestly looks more like prison food than anything else, trying to figure out what you should do next.

While you’re thinking, Carol’s obnoxious moans carry through the lunchroom. “Oh, Steve! Steeeve!”

Tommy joins in now, banging the table to get a bigger reaction. You see Steve trying not to smile at their antics, but it’s obvious to everyone how uncomfortable Nancy is. You feel pity for her, she deserves better than Harrington and his immature friends. Then again, you suppose she chose this for herself the second she started dating him.

King Steve has never hidden who he is.

You watch as Steve says something to appease her, but something catches Nancy’s eye and she turns to face it. Curious, you turn as well and spot Jonathan staring right back at her. They share a look, one that you can’t decipher, and you feel something twist within your stomach.

It’s not jealousy, at least, not in that way. Jonathan is your only real friend in Hawkins (the kids don’t count, you recognize how embarrassing that is), and you’ve never had to share him before. Clearly Nancy has taken an interest in him of some sort and Jonathan, being ever the private person, has allowed her to, so you just have to swallow down your pride and accept it.

Besides, you did always tell Jonathan that the two of you needed more friends.

Taking a deep breath to will your nerves away, you ditch your lunch and follow after Jonathan. Screw whatever silent treatment is in place, he’s your best friend and you honestly don’t think it’s possible for you to ever be angry at him. It just isn’t in your nature.

For better or for worse, you could never hate Jonathan Byers.

You catch Jonathan as he’s leaving the photo developing room. He’s holding some pictures in his hands but quickly hides them away when he sees you.

“Y/N, hi.”

You ignore the voice in the back of your head telling you that something’s wrong, that he’s still acting weird with you, but you ignore it because you just want some normalcy in your life. You need your best friend. “Hey,”

“Look, I’m so sorry for what I said last night…”

You brush him off, “It’s okay, I promise.”

Jonathan huffs at you, exasperated as always whenever you let people get away with things that they shouldn’t. “No, it’s not okay. You’ve been nothing short of amazing and I was the dick who yelled at you for it.”

The two of you are walking out of the school as you talk, and you let out a weak laugh. “I guess you were pretty awful, huh?”

He doesn’t laugh along with you, instead shaking his head in shame. “You didn’t deserve that, not after all you’ve done for me and my mom. I was lying through my teeth last night, you are family, Y/N.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, but it’s genuinely okay-”

“Bug, I was a dick. End of discussion. I just… sometimes it feels like I don’t deserve your help, you do so much for us. I let it get to me last night, and I’ll never stop apologizing for it.”

You don’t know what to say, caught off guard by the vulnerability. “Just… don’t do that again, alright? If something is bothering you I’d rather you tell me about it than take your frustration out on me.”

“Deal.”

“Anything else on your mind?”

Jonathan thinks for a moment and you can tell he’s trying to word whatever is on his mind correctly. “While I know you’ve always loved to help, there’s some things that I have to do on my own, okay? Will, my mom… they’re my responsibility, not yours. I mean, not in a bad way-”

“Hey, I understand. I need to back off a bit, I recognize that now. I’m sorry, bee.” You kick at a rock in the parking lot, “so we’ve got ourselves a deal?”

The boy gives you a quizzical look and you laugh at him, extending your hand. When he grabs it, you turn the hold into a handshake. “I’ll calm down my fretting antics and you’ll come to me about whatever is on your mind, no matter what; we don’t hide anything from each other.”

The slight smile Jonathan briefly had on his face vanishes. He pales slightly and quickly releases your hand. “Right.”

You eye him. “Bee, what aren’t you telling me?”

Caught up in conversation, you and Jonathan don’t see Steve and his gang resting against his car until it’s too late.

“Hey, man.” Steve approaches, effectively ending your conversation with Jonathan. He glances at you. “Henderson, good to see you again.”

“I highly doubt it.”

“What’s going on?” Jonathan asks, putting himself between you and Steve.

“Nicole here was telling us about your work.”

Confused, you look at Jonathan. “What, did you start another photo series or something?”

Steve laughs coldly. “You could say that.”

Jonathan ignores him and pulls you close behind him, ducking his head down to whisper into your ear, “it’s not what it looks like, trust me.”

“Bee, what-”

“Henderson, want to take a look with us as, you know, connoisseurs of art?”

You look at Steve now, more confused than ever, but you feel a slight sense of dread. You know that whatever photo he’s about to pull out will be bad. You know it’ll be connected to Jonathan’s behavior last night, to the guilt he’s been carrying, to the way he hid the same pictures from you not even ten minutes ago.

You look back to Jonathan now, silently pleading with him for more of an explanation, but he averts his eyes. Exhaling deeply, you face Steve. “Show me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jonathan says, trying to walk away, but Tommy grabs at his backpack.

“Hey!” You run up to Tommy and start pulling at the bag, but the guy is twice your size and easily wins, accidentally flinging you to the ground.

Jonathan runs over to check on you. “Y/N!”

At the same time, Steve berates his friend. “Woah, Tommy, easy man! Henderson isn’t who we’re here for, leave her out of this.”

Both boys crouch next to you and offer you a hand, but you bat them away. You’re irritated and confused and pissed the fuck off at both of them right now for vastly different reasons. You pick yourself up and brush away some dirt that got on your jeans. “Show me the photos, Jonathan.”

He looks at you, hurt. “Do you not trust me?”

“Do you trust me?” Your words hang in the air.

Steve is now right behind you. “Oh man he’s like, totally trembling. He must really have something to hide.”

Jonathan tries to step closer to you, but Steve is now the one who blocks him. You watch silently as he unzips Jonathan’s bag and pulls out the photos, ignoring the pleading look that your friend sends your way. You trust Jonathan more than anyone else in this world, but something doesn’t feel right.

The photos are tame at first, though admittedly creepy. They’re all still shots of Steve and his friends from the night before, you recognize the famous pool that the whole school talks about when it comes to Harrington’s parties.

“Your boyfriend is a creep, Y/N.” Steve says, nudging you with his shoulder as he continues to flick through the pictures.

“He isn’t my-”

“I was looking for my brother.”

Jonathan’s words make you freeze. “You went looking for Will without me?”

Steve says something else, but you don’t catch it. You stare at Jonathan, hurt that he’d search for Will without even telling you first. He’s his brother, you understand that, but what would you do if Jonathan went missing too?

Nancy then appears, causing Jonathan to finally look up to catch your eye, but he quickly looks away. “Here’s the starring lady!”

She laughs nervously. “What?”

Carol explains what was going on, and you’re too upset to speak. There’s too many thoughts going through your mind, but when Carol flashes you a picture of Nancy, naked, it takes everything in you not to throw up.

Jonathan, your Jonathan, would never do this.

He tries to approach you again but you find yourself stumbling back, knocking against Steve’s chest. Hurt flashes in his eyes, you’ve never flinched at Jonathan’s touch, but what he did has changed everything.

Steve places a hand on your shoulder. “See, you can tell that he knows it was wrong, but that’s the thing about perverts. It’s hard-wired into them. They just can’t help themselves.”

He begins tearing up the pictures, and you can’t believe Jonathan of all people is making you agree with Harrington, yet here you are.

Nancy is his girlfriend, and even outside of that, Jonathan had no right taking pictures of her naked without her consent. You agree with Steve’s actions, but then the camera comes into play. He reaches for Jonathan’s camera, causing him to dive forward to stop anything from happening to it, and it’s finally what breaks you from your shock.

You react as well, shoving past Steve to try and get to the camera first, but it’s no use. He beats you to it, Carol now holding you back as she digs her claws into your skin. Jonathan is being held back by Tommy, and all the two of you can do is watch helplessly as Steve dangles the camera high in the air.

What Jonathan did was wrong, there’s no denying that, but you know how long it took him to save up for the thing. How many awful shifts he picked up at the theater to pay for it, adamantly refusing any money both you and Joyce offered him to help pay for it.

This camera was his and his alone. Paid for with his own money, bought for his own enjoyment, his pride and joy.

“Here you go, man.” Without even hesitating, Steve lets the camera fall to the ground.

You gasp, watching as the lens shatters and you crouch down to try and piece it back together. Your hands are shaking, you don’t know what to feel right now, but with how badly your hands shake, it’s no use trying to fix the camera; you need something to distract yourself with.

Jonathan and Nancy join you on the ground, but you’re too overwhelmed to really notice them. The combination of emotions leaves you wondering if you’re about to cry, throw up, or both. It’s only when Nancy begins snatching up the torn pictures that you acknowledge her presence.

You grab her hand and catch her eye, “I’m so, so sorry.”

She doesn’t respond, only giving you a slightly confused look, and you recognize how stupid it is that you feel the need to apologize for Jonathan’s actions. You aren’t his keeper, and until now you never even considered he’d do something like this, and yet the guilt creeps in. You open your mouth to say something else, but Steve calls her over to join them and she leaves.

Jonathan is still next to you, remaining silent even after Nancy’s departure. You can feel his eyes on you as you continue to fumble with the broken camera pieces as a gust of wind blows away the remaining photo shreds.

“Shit!” A shard of glass from the lens cuts your finger, drawing blood.

“Bug, let me-” Jonathan grabs at your hand to inspect the cut, but you pull away harshly.

“Don’t touch me!”

“Y/N…” The hurt look on his face is almost enough to make you crack, but the blood drips from your finger and falls onto a picture that somehow didn’t blow away. You look at it, seeing the outline of Nancy’s back in the photo, her beautiful side profile perfectly captured.

The urge to throw up returns.

“You’re hurt, let me look at it.” Jonathan pleads, his voice soft, with more empathy than he’s ever shown you these last few days. It’s as if last night never happened. As if you’re some idiot who is always ready and willing to come crawling back to those who discard you whenever they please.

In a way, you suppose that you are.

You hate it.

Jonathan tries to grab your hand again but you stand up before he can. “I said don’t touch me.”

He tries to grab you once more but again you pull away. Your brain is a mess right now trying to comprehend everything that happened within the last fifteen minutes. You look down at the broken camera pieces still laying on the ground, its glass reflecting in the late afternoon light.

Those photos of Nancy…

God, you’re an idiot.

“Nancy is the reason you were such an asshole to me last night, isn’t she?”

“Y/N, those photos-”

“You knew that the second I looked at you I’d know you’d done something terrible.”

Jonathan is silent beside you, but you don’t need to hear whatever excuse he’ll give you to know that you’re right. Instead of telling you what he did last night, he kicked you out of his home in a guilt-crazed daze, saying horrible things to you that he can never take back.

Instead of being honest with you, he had been a goddamn coward who hurt you in the cruelest way possible.

Jonathan runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “Look, you know I’ve never been able to lie to you-”

“So naturally you resorted to screaming at me and saying we aren’t family-”

“I regret what I said, but how was I supposed to tell you about the photos if I don’t even know why I took them in the first place?”

You start pacing around the parking lot, too overwhelmed to stay put. Jonathan’s words only confuse and upset you more. In the midst of your frantic pacing the cut on your finger begins to bleed more, which causes you to wince and catch Jonathan’s attention.

“Bug, you’re in pain,” his voice is gentle now, the worried crease between his brows now prominent in a way that you’ve always found cute. “I’m not just going to stand around while you’re hurt. Let me help.”

Unfortunately for Jonathan, his words only piss you off more.

“You’re not just going to stand around while I’m hurt? That’s fucking rich coming from you, Jonathan.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“This entire week I’ve been hurting! I mean,” you let out a laugh laced with tears threatening to spill out. “I lost Will too, did you ever consider that? And I understand he’s your brother and I would lose my mind if anything ever happened to Dustin, but I’ve done nothing but love and support you through this shit show and you haven’t even asked how I’m holding up. I mean, what kind of best friend does that?”

Shame washes over Jonathan. “I didn’t think-”

“I’ve been exhausting myself trying to help and not once have I considered it a burden because I’m doing this for Will, for you. I’m doing what any decent person is supposed to do, and I’m not asking for praise or-or for a reward but holy fuck, Jonathan! I mean, I understand now that maybe I was bit too much but,”

You’re yelling at him now, all the frustration you’ve been swallowing down these last few days now spills out. “At least treat me like a human being! I mean, the stunt you pulled last night was such bullshit and I was ready to excuse your actions because you’re my best friend and you’re hurting, but then you hide those damn photos from me? Scream at me like I’m some pathetic fucking child because you’re too ashamed of your own actions? We don’t lie to each other.”

Jonathan steps towards you and it isn’t until he’s cradling your head in his hands to wipe away your tears do you realize you’re crying. He’s so tender, gently wiping the tears as they fall, and you feel weak against him, closing your eyes as you soak up the affection.

“Bug…” His voice cracks, not knowing what else to say.

You open your eyes now. “You went looking for Will without me… did you even think about what your mom would do if you disappeared too? What I would do if you disappeared?”

“I…”

“And Nancy…” you pull away so that he’s no longer touching you. “That was a line I never thought you would cross. And to lie to me about it, I just… why?”

Jonathan shakes his head, a few tears of his own now beginning to fall. “I don’t know.”

There’s nothing else you can say; you’ve drained all your energy. A headache is beginning to form and with the parking lot clearing out, indicating the end of the school day, you know you need to leave for work soon.

Normally when you look at Jonathan, you feel a sense of security, but now all you feel is dread. His shoulders are hunched, the bags under his eyes darker than ever, and at this moment you’re not sure you know who he is anymore. It terrifies the shit out of you.

“I should go,” you wipe your nose with your sleeve, side stepping Jonathan as you start walking towards the bike stand.

“You’re leaving?” There’s fear in his voice, and you can hear the undertones of are you leaving me, too?

“I have to work tonight, so I need to-”

“Let me drive you then, it’s cold and-and we can talk more about this-”

He follows you to your bike and you feel such pity for him. You know he’s right about needing to talk more, but all you want right now is to crawl into bed and pretend that this whole week has been a dream. A horrible, awful dream.

You offer Jonathan your hand, the cut on your finger no longer bleeding, and intertwine your fingers with his. “I want to be alone right now, okay? Please, just give me some time.”

He wants to argue with you, you can see it in his eyes, but just like you know him better than anyone else, he knows you just as well. He knows there’s no use trying to change your mind when you get like this; when the feelings become too much and solitude is your only solution. It's happened before in the past, but never with him.

All he can do is wait for you to come back when you're ready.

“Okay, I can do that.”

You squeeze his hand, like you always do, before you let go and bike away.

He watches as you leave.

–

Tonight’s shift is another slow one, which you’re grateful for.

It was just last week that Jonathan had been driving you, Will, and Dustin to school. You’d been singing some song on the radio and the November air had a slight nostalgia of August warmth. Will and Dustin complained about your singing as you wailed on, Jonathan eventually joining in so that the two younger boys could only cover their ears with their hands and groan in annoyance.

Now Will is gone, taking the August warmth with him and leaving behind only November cold that leaves your bones feeling raw.

The laughter is gone, and now you’re afraid that your best friend is gone as well.

You come home to an empty house, a note on the kitchen counter informing you that your mother is at her knitting club and that Dustin is off with his friends.

Wonderful. Your brother has once again gone off on some adventure without informing you first. What a lovely addition to your already horrible day.

You call the Wheeler’s first, hoping that maybe you don’t have to bike around the entire town to find the little shit, but like always: you’re mistaken.

“I’m sorry, but the boys went out biking right after school.”

“Oh, lovely then. Thanks, Mrs. Wheeler, have a good night.”

“You too, dear!”

As soon as you hang up, you allow yourself a moment to just scream. The headache that formed during your fight with Jonathan hasn’t left, you’re tired, you have so much homework that you’re too afraid to even look at, and you still have no idea who El is or what she really knows about Will.

And now you have to bike all around Hawkins to find said girl, because there’s no way the morons have listened to your orders to stay put with her.

You check Lucas’ house first, but Erica tells you that they aren’t there and requests that you inform Lucas that her lying fee has been raised to $5.

“That’s a bit steep, don’t you think?”

“Do you wanna pay?”

“Good point, have a good night then Erica.”

You then search around the middle school, but there’s no sign of them anywhere. After another thirty minutes of nothing, you finally give in to your hunch and bike to the Byers. You’re not sure if Jonathan will be home, but your idiot brother may need you, so you just have to suck it up and check.

Ultimately you’re glad you do, because as you ride up the driveway you see the boys circling around El.

“Why did you bring us here?”

“I have a better question Mike, why did you bring us here?” None of the kids had noticed your arrival, so they all jump at your voice.

Dustin’s face goes pale. “Y/N! What-what are you doing here?”

“I’ve been looking for you little assholes for an hour now,” you park your bike and step closer to the kids. “Why do you never listen to me when I tell you guys to keep me updated, huh? Do I have a giant sign on my head that says ‘hey, ignore me and treat me like utter shit!’, is that it?”

No one responds, too stunned by your words. You never cuss at them, and apart from last night, they don’t think they’ve ever seen you so angry before.

“I’m just so sick and tired of people treating me like I’m some throwaway toy, just casting me aside and forgetting about me until it’s convenient. I have feelings too, isn’t that a wild concept? I mean, who knew Y/N Henderson had any real emotions behind her pathetic need to help everyone around her!”

Dustin can hear the hurt in your voice and knows that this isn’t just about them sneaking off. You’re upset about something else, someone hurt you and he needs to know who, so he softly asks, “Y/N, what happened?”

You spin around to face him. “Nothing! That’s what happened! None of you told me anything, everyone has just decided to keep me out of the loop because god forbid I deserve any honesty after years of being there for you guys-”

“Okay, this is definitely about Jonathan then.” Lucas mumbles, which Mike nods in agreement to.

“This is not about Jonathan-” The sound of sirens cuts you off.

Everyone freezes, and your heart stops. This is Hawkins, where nothing ever happens; cops don’t just go flying down the street late at night.

You know, even before you can fully comprehend how, that it’s Will. You can feel it; the sirens are for him, the precious boy you’ve come to love like your own brother.

Then, to confirm your fears, an ambulance follows behind the line of cop cars, and you feel your entire world shatter.

“Will…” Mike exhales, and the second the name leaves his lips everyone scrambles for their bikes to follow the cars.

You know you shouldn’t, you know this won’t end well, but it’s Will. Maybe he’s alive, maybe he simply got lost in the woods and has been wandering around the last three days or so. There’s so many other possibilities, an endless array of explanations, and yet…

Your legs feel heavy as you pedal after the kids. You know that, no matter what you guys end up finding, that nothing will ever be the same again. As you follow, the route you take begins to look familiar, back when you and Jonathan would spend your summers exploring the forest and its surroundings.

The quarry.

Suddenly you can’t breathe. “I… I can’t-”

“Y/N, we have to see if it’s Will!” Dustin calls behind him, too eager to realize exactly where you guys are going.

If you could just warn them, maybe speed up to block their paths, you could convince them to turn around, but it’s too late. The five of you arrive at the quarry’s edge and toss your bikes behind the fire truck. You see the firemen in the water, sloshing around for something, and you realize what they’re doing a second too late.

Immediately you begin to pull the kids away, not wanting them to see what you desperately hope you’re wrong about, but you’re too late. “Guys, get away from the truck, we shouldn’t be here-”

You’re always too fucking late.

“Please, we need to leave,” your voice shakes as you try to shield the kids from the sight of Will’s body being pulled from the water.

Mike pulls away from you. “No, it’s not Will. It can’t be.”

“Mike…”

The firemen lift the raft up higher and the light lands on Will’s lifeless body, and you feel a piece of you die. He’s always been the smallest of the boys, but as the men lift his dead body out of the water, he’s never looked so small. Will is gone; he’s taken all the light with him.

Dustin reaches for your hand and is the first to start crying. You pull him into your chest as he sobs. Lucas looks over at you, a silent acceptance in his eyes. “It’s Will. It’s really Will.”

You grab the boy and pull him into you as well, the two of them now crying as you hold them. All you can do right is hold your boys, staring off into space as you feel them shake with grief against you. This isn’t real.

From the corner of your eye you see El approaching Mike, and you’re too numb to warn her against it. “Mike…”

“‘Mike’? ‘Mike,’ what?” He slaps her hand away, which causes you to become alert. He’s hurting, you know Mike loved Will more than anyone else, but he’ll only hurt himself more if he pushes everyone away.

“Mike, I know you’re upset-”

He faces you, a betrayed look in his eyes. “Upset? She was supposed to help us find him alive. She said he was alive!” he turns to El now, “why did you lie to us? What’s wrong with you?”

As he yells at the girl you hear his own tears beginning to form, and as you hold his friends, you lean closer to Mike and use your other hand to console him, but he begins to run away.

Dustin and Lucas watch helplessly as their friend leaves, you all call after him but are ignored. They beg him to stay, too scared to be separated once more now that Will is gone, but Mike doesn’t listen. He grabs his bike, leaving you and the boys alone with El.

She looks at you, tears in her eyes and a pleading look on her face. She’s looking to you for reassurance, to console her and tell her that everything will be okay with Mike, that he’ll forgive her, but you can’t.

You also feel betrayed by the girl. You don’t think she was lying, in a sense, but then how can she explain Will’s dead body 50 feet away? El promised you and the boys that Will was alive, but he’s not.

Tears start to fall down her face. “Y/N?”

You’re sure that when you look back on this moment later, you will have wished that you had done something braver, something more kind to the terrified girl, but you don’t. Instead of wrapping her into your arms alongside Lucas and Dustin, you give El a curt shake of your head, dismissing her.

It hurts to watch her leave, and you’re ashamed of yourself, but then Dustin lets out another sob while Lucas tightens his hold around you, and you know that you’ve made the right choice for now. You don’t know El or her intentions, but her actions have hurt the people you love the most, and right now you have to put them first.

You let the boys cry, barely registering anything else.

–

Later, much later, after getting Lucas home and tucking Dustin into bed, you finally allow yourself to grieve. You lay in your bed, staring at the framed drawing on your desk that Will had made you for your birthday this year. It was a sweet gift, having drawn you as a princess in one of their DnD campaigns with your sword and shield. Jonathan stands next to you in the picture, holding his own sword and wearing a crown, while Will and the boys are next to him, dressed in their own armor.

In the picture the six of you are facing a dragon, but there’s a smile on all of your faces as you fight the creature together. You, Jonathan, and your boys; together, there’s nothing that you guys cannot defeat.

It’s your favorite drawing of Will’s.

And now it’s your last drawing from him.

The tears come slowly at first, then all at once. You find yourself hunched over, letting out anguished sobs as you mourn for the boy, for Jonathan and Joyce, for your brother and his friends. You mourn for the Byers losing a child, a brother. You mourn for your brother’s now tainted childhood. He’s too young, they all are too young to be experiencing such a loss.

Will was too young.

You cry until there’s nothing left within you, and yet the sobs still wrack against your body long after the tears have dried up. It’s a pain like no else.

Then, as you’re finally beginning to calm down, you hear a knock at your window.

You get up and fling your curtain open to find Jonathan on the other side.

Neither of you say anything as you open the window and let him in. Once he’s inside the two of you face each other, unmoving and silent for what feels like years. There’s still a tension there from earlier, though this afternoon feels like decades ago. Jonathan stares at you, a guarded and unsure look on his face, as though he’s afraid that if he breaks in front of you that you’ll push him away.

Instead, you surprise him by throwing yourself against his chest and into his arms.

You’re not sure who begins to cry first, but it doesn’t matter. His cries only make you cry harder, having never seen your best friend this heartbroken before, and it’s all so fucking unfair. He doesn’t deserve this, no one does, but especially not Jonathan. He loved his brother so much, with such an intensity that rivaled your own love for Dustin.

Jonathan pulls away a bit so that he can look at you; tears stream down his face. “He’s gone, bug.”

“Bee,” you don’t know what more to say. What can you even say? While it feels like your heart has been ripped from your chest along with your bones, you know it only feels worse for Jonathan. No words could ever soothe that ache.

“He’s gone,”

You grab at his jacket and gently guide him so that you sit on your bed. “Jonathan, look at me.” It takes some coaxing, but eventually he listens. “I’m here, okay? I’m here.”

Your voice cracks at the end, your own grief getting in the way, but it’s all you can say right now. You’re not sure how else to phrase it, how else to tell him that even if everything and everyone else is gone, you’re still here. You’ll never, ever leave him, especially not when he needs you the most now.

Despite the vague words, Jonathan nods, always able to understand you, and he rests his head against your shoulder as the two of you cry. Faintly you can hear Dustin’s cries through the wall, but you leave him alone. You know he needs to process this alone, just like you needed to, just like Jonathan had before coming here.

Tomorrow you’ll comfort your brother, you’ll bake the cookies that Joyce loves, and tonight will pass. A day must always end. This day will end, and tomorrow will come. Then, you’ll face this together with everyone you love.

For now, your best friend needs you, so you let him cry into your shoulder and you run your nails against his scalp and whisper soothing words. Fuck whatever is going on between the two of you.

Will is dead. The best of you, the purest of you, is dead.

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#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #wdtai #m's writing #jonathan my beloved...#i promise he gets better guys #and steve was valid for his reaction to jonathans pics of nancy yall can argue with a wall #and the ending :(#the trauma these kids go through so young is insane

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ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes · 1 year

Text

The Phoenix and the Crow

masterlist

kaz brekker x inferni!fem!reader

In order to rise from its own ashes, a phoenix must first burn. That’s what Y/N reminded herself over and over again. It’s just a stage of life, it’ll get better and you’ll always come back stronger. She scoffed, “Some phoenix.” Aren’t the birds supposed to be powerful, elegant, and brave? Then why was she running away? Out of fear? Yes.

part one - content: season 1 episode 7/8.

part two - content: season 1 episode 8.

part three - content: season 2 episode 1

part four - content: season 2 episode 1

part five - content: season 2 episode 1/2

part six - content: season 2 episode 3

part seven - content: season 2 episode 4

part eight - content: season 2 episode 5

part nine - content: season 2 episode 5/6

part ten - content: season 2 episode 6

part eleven - content: all original material

part twelve - content: season 2 episode 7/8

part thirteen - content: season 2 episode 8

part fourteen - content: season 2 episode 8

part fifteen - content: six of crows (book)

part sixteen - content: six of crows (book)

part seventeen - content: six of crows (book)

part eighteen - content: six of crows (book)

part nineteen - content: six of crows (book)

part twenty - content: six of crows (book)

part twenty-one - content: six of crows (book)

part twenty-two - content: six of crows (book)

part twenty-three - content: six of crows (book)

part twenty-four - content: six of crows (book)

part twenty-five - content: six of crows (book)

part twenty-six - content: six of crows (book)

part twenty-seven - content: six of crows (book)

part twenty-eight - content: six of crows (book)

part twenty-nine - content: six of crows (book)

part thirty - content: six of crows (book)

part thirty-one - content: six of crows (book)

part thirty-two - content: six of crows (book)

part thirty-three - content: six of crows (book)

part thirty-four - content: six of crows (book)

disclaimer: this is basically my version of the netflix show we all know and love shadow and bone. i've included small details from the books, but no book spoilers. if there is any warnings that i'm missing please let me know so i can label the properly. reblogs and comments are always appreciated :)

taglist

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker masterlist #kaz brekker x reader #fic: the phoenix and the crow #ellora's.series #ellora.writes

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sardonic-the-writer · 7 months

Text

𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

↳ summary: you befriend a cat and somehow end up having to save new york in the process. or; a reader insert of season two episode twelve, of rats and men

↳ warnings: some mentions of violence, and one slight sexual innuendo

↳ notes: part two to this tmnt series that i'm doing. reader is autistic and a bitch. again, it can be read as a stand alone, but it's more enjoyable if you read these in order. once again, mainly a reader insert with a slight lean to a budding relationship between donnie & reader. can be with any other turtle if you want

↳ song: turtle power—partners in kryme

part one | next part | masterlist! | commissions! | carrd

"I know they said that pizza was gluten free, but I definitely tasted gluten."

The cold wind of a New York afternoon nipped at your heels as you meandered down the sidewalk, three figures in tow. Rocks and stray bits of litter dotted the crooked sidewalk, occasionally brushing an untied shoestring of yours.

It was the weekend. A time when school was at the back of your mind and pizza in the front. You had been called up by April this morning whilst lounging in bed, a sense of urgency in her voice as she invited you out with her and Casey for lunch. From the sound of it, she had been asked on a not-date-date again and was relying on you to break the ice. And since you were such a good friend, you changed out of your ratty pajamas to catch up, cursing teenage love under your breath all the way.

It was only after pulling up to Antonio's with a blank expression that you'd saw Irma loitering outside at the same time, tossing a limp wave to her as you both headed in to join your collective friends. Predictably, Casey hadn't been very happy to see either of you, and you responded by politely sticking him with the bill.

Now the four of you were walking aimlessly. Not in the direction of anyone's apartment, which was to assume that you knew where Irma lived. Which you didn't. You weren't sure you were on that level of friendship with her; or any level of friendship really.

Caseys bike ached and creaked with age as he pushed it along beside him. Occasionally you'd find yourself looking back at it, as if expecting it to fall to pieces at any moment. You wonder how long he'd had it for; and why he insited on bringing it along with him if he thought this would have been a romantic getaway. Maybe he was hoping to go on a couples ride or something. The thought of it made you smile wryly.

"Thanks for hanging out with us on our date, Irma." Casey cleared his throat, sending a dry look the purple haired girls way. "We really needed a chaperone."

At that last bit he sent a pointed look April's way, who whistled as she pretended to hear nothing.

"Anything I can do to help." Irma responded, nonplussed.

"Who said that was supposed to be a date, Jones?" You questioned whilst playing with your hoodie strings. "Pretty sure I heard April call it a hang out when she asked me to come."

You heard the squeak of his bike hesitate before continuing, most likely taking your words with a grain of salt.

He might have responded to your poking with some of his own, if a sudden shadow hadn't darted out onto the sidewalk, stopping Casey dead in his tracks.

The beady red eyes of a rat stared curiously at you all as the hockey player jumped three feet in the air, immediately pushing his bike out in front of him as a makeshift barrier. It skittered off once deciding you weren't of any use, dissapearing down a sewer drain.

"I can't belive someone as big as you is afraid of a little rat!" Irma smirked. Or smiled. You could never tell with her. Casey just frowned in response, looking a little embarrassed.

"Well I can't belive that rat was afraid of this adorable kitty!" April kneeled to the ground inbetween Casey and Irma's bickering, picking up a mangy tabby that looked like it had seen better days. It yowled a little at her touch, squirming uncomfortably. You hadn't seen the animal before, but now there was no doubt in your mind that that's what the rat was running from.

"Give it here." You held your hand out to April, then hesitated and repeated yourself in a more softer tone. She looked at the cat and then you before shrugging, handing it over.

Immediately after securing your hold, you picked it up by the scruff. It's fussing ceased, and you took the moment to run a hand down it's neck, all the way to the back of it's tail. After a moment or two, it began to purr like a well oiled machine, leaning into you.

"Wow! You're really good with animals." April awed with her hands clasped.

"Not really. Raph tried to kill me when I first met him." You offhandedly mentioned, still running a concentrated hand down the cats back.

"Who's Raph? Is that your dog?"

You stilled as Casey and April exchanged nervous looks. No one answered Irma's question for a second, surely garnering suspicion from the fourth party.

"Uh, sure Irma. My dog."

"Hm." She pushed her glasses up and squinted at you. "What breed is he?"

You blinked. Your hand came down on the cat a bit harsher this time, resulting in a hiss to sound.

"He's a poodle!" April cut in. "Now can we get a move on? It's getting kind of cold." She looked happy to change the subject, even faking a shiver for effect.

"Sure. Your place this time April?" Irma said as she smoothed out nonexistent wrinkles along her skirt.

"Actually, I was hoping me and Red here could head off. You know. Alone." Casey slung an arm around April with a less than genuine gap toothed smile.

"If alone means with me and April, then yeah." You didn't miss the way April tossed you thankful look as you spoke. "We've got to find some place for this cat, and I'm not exactly fond of bringing it home to my parents. They've already got their hands full with, er, Raph."

Irma stared at you all unimpressed. April tossed her a sheepish smile while hopping on the back of Casey's bike; the former looking happy at the premise of her holding his waist. You just rolled your eyes.

"Sure. I'll walk beside you guys. No biggie."

"Hey, did you want to be the one to hold onto Casey's back?"

"Nevermind. Carry on."

The three of you parted from Irma, tossing seperate waves of your own back at the girl as she grew farther away. Her deadpan look never once faded.

"So. We're all thinking of bringing this to the guys, right?"

April and you nodded at Casey, immediately steering towards the closest alleyway as soon as Irma could no longer be seen. The cat stiffened in your arms at the change in scenery. With a gentle whisper to settle down, you scratched behind its ears. A cough was the thing to break you out of the little trance.

"Having fun you two?" Casey said smugly. You glared at him as he parked his bike and leaned it against an alley wall.

"Stuff it, Jones." You flipped him off the best you could with a cat in your arms, starting forward to where April was wrestling with the manhole.

None of you heard the distant scream as you slid the cover open, sliping into total darkness.

You had come to expect an overwhelming greeting anytime you showed up.

Mikey launched himself out of Donnie's lab the second he'd heard your voice. Nevermind that you were talking with Leo, nodding your approval at the showing of Space Heros on TV. You weren't even sure that Mikey registered that. Once he had his sights set on something, he was like a missile. A very loud very playful missile.

No sooner than stepping a foot into the living room, you were tackled with a exhale of air, falling over while somehow managing to keep the cat from clawing your face off. An impressive feat if you do say so yourself.

"You're back!" Mikey screamed your name, hitting his forehead on your chest with a frantic smile. "We thought we'd scared you off!"

After a few weak growls for him to 'get the fuck of of me Michelangelo', you stood up and brushed yourself off. Mikey bounced excitedly all around you, thankfully not touching. You might have kicked him if he did.

"Dont worry bud. It'll take a lot more than just some mushrooms to get rid of me." You eventually answered, looking very unsurprised for someone that had just been tackled by two hundered pounds of turtle.

"Yeah! I bet you eat mushrooms for breakfast!" Mikey struck a very crude ninja pose. Something that almost made you laugh, considering he was an actual ninja.

"That's what humans do, Mikey. They literally eat mushrooms with their breakfast." Leo called from the couch. You couldn't see his face from where you were standing, but you could practically hear the eyeroll in his voice.

"Oh."

"I know what you meant. Don't worry dude." You waved it off. Mikeys smile returned in no time flat, and you could see questions about the cat bubbling in his throat as he moved on. You were quick to start moving, not really up for a tirade of questions at the moment.

The turtle skipped after you as you headed in the direction of Donatello's lab. His door was still ajar from when Mikey had sprung out of it, and you could hear the faint clinking of lab equipment drifting from it.

"Did anyone order a flea infested cat?" You said as you strolled in, ignoring the many warning signs plastered around the room screaming at you to not enter.

You watched as Donnie looked up from whatever he was doing with a glowing green beaker, face breaking out into a smile at the sight of you. For a moment you did your best attempt to smile back, and it seemed to only increase the size of his. At least before his eyes dropped to the animal you were holding.

"Hey hey hey! Don't bring that thing in here!" His arms immediately shot out to cover any of the open substances he was dealing with. You paid no mind to him, just strolling over to the opposite side of his desk and leaning against it.

"What. The cat or Mikey?"

"Both!"

"Hey!" Mikey whined and pouted at you, still evidently hot on your trail. You snickered, continuing your stroking of the cat that had haulted earlier.

Donnie took one more look between you and the stray before sighing. He seemingly gave up before turning back to his work, probably glad you were entertaining Mikey for a bit. It always seemed to go that way when you came down here.

"So Mike." You watched Mikey stick his tounge out at you at the nickname and you mirrored him. "How do you feel about getting a new pet?"

"Seriously!" He gasped. Donnie stiffened from where he was sitting but didn't turn around.

"Yeah." You shrugged. "We found him up top, and he seems to be tame enough. You might want to make sure he gets some shots though. For worms and all."

You knew everything you were saying was going one ear and out the other for Michelangelo as he reached out to pluck the cat from your arms.

"Aww look at you!" He gushed before proceeding to spout ooey gooey nonsense at the animal. You faked vomiting.

"And Donnie?" You yawned as you felt the after effects of lunch taking hold of you, stretching your arms above your head. "Before you ask, yes, April's here."

You didn't even need to turn around to know that the crashing sound was probably Donnie falling out of his chair with a dopey smile.

"So is Casey." You finished with a slight smirk. Looking back, Donnie glared at you as he pulled himself up, cheeks still tinted red.

"You just had to add that part in last didn't you?"

"Save the best for last as they say!" The confident call of Casey came from the doorway. You looked over to see him leaning against it, trying his best to look what he most likey thought was cool as April strolled right past him.

"Hey my dudes!" Mikey popped up from somewhere behind you to wave frantically at them. He was holding ice cream for some reason now. You'd learned not to question his ways a long time ago.

"I see you've already introduced them to the little guy we found on the streets." April smiled. You rolled your eyes as Donatello made heart eyes at her, stuttering something out about how charitable she was.

"Can we keep her Donnie?" An excited Mikey squealed.

"You know, Master Splinter is a rat." The question from his brother seemed to snap some temporary sense into Donatello, turning in place to cock an eyebrow.

"Yeah! What if that cat goes nuts and attacks him? She'll feed off his body for months!"

"Thanks for the visual, Casey." You walked over to flick him on the crown of his head. A few panicked noises and thumps came from behind you, but you were too busy relishing in the look on Casey's face to notice.

"Alright, well you guys have fun. I'm going to raid your fridge." You stuffed your hands in your pockets and rocked on the balls of your feet. Faintly, you noticed Mikey rush out of the room with something in his hands.

"But we just ate?" April tilted her head at you. You smiled at her without any real emotion.

"I never said I was going to eat anything. Just save it for later."

"I guess I'll come with you." Donnie looked at the wall above you, no doubt checking the time. "I could use a break."

"Sure." You shrugged and turned. "You guys going to stick around or—" The last bit was directed at Casey and April, but they just shook their head and began to follow you out. On the way to the kitchen you were all joined by Leo and Raph, eventually reaching the kitchen table.

"Mikey, please for the love of god stop making out with the fridge." You didn't spare anyone a second look before balancing on your tip toes to open a cabinet. Rustling around, you came up with a bag of marshmallows. Letting a celebratory smile loose, you stuffed it in your hoodie pocket for later.

"Master? Are you okay?"

You turned around. True to Leo's question, Splinter was lumbering into the room. And not looking to hot. You noticed he lacked his usual poise. Instead, he was slouching and blinking slowly. He looked groggy, and you wondered for a moment if mutant rats could have nightmares.

"I need ice for my head." He mummbled. "And also. Possibly a cheese-sicle."

"Cheese-sicle?" You asked Casey from the corner of your mouth. He shook his head with a look that told you he knew about as much as you did.

"No sensei! You can't!"

All of you watched as Mikey slammed the freezer door on Splinter. The speed of it took even you by surprise. Either he had become self aware of the cost of electricity, or Mikey'd lost his mind.

"No?" The room seemed to ice over with the amount of coldness in Splinters voice. Your eyes grew big, and you resisted the urge to start snacking on the marshmallows like a bag of popcorn at the movies.

"You tell me no?" Splinter was hissing now. Any joke you would have made flown out the kitchen. Much like Mikey's body as Splinter sent a punch to his plastron.

"Jesus fucking christ!" You scrambled back, your cry getting lost in everyone else's as they yelled with surprise.

Splinter lowered to his arms and legs like a feral animal, and you managed to get a glimpse at his eyes. Normally, they were the exact same color as Donnie's. But now, they were covered in a sharp red film. Much like the rat that had crossed your path not too long ago on the surface.

Everyone scrambled in different directions as Splinter launched himself around the room. You included. You found yourself up on top of the fridge somehow, looking down with eyes as big as saucers at the scene before you. The thought of the tazer you carry with you crossed your mind, but you immediately felt guilty afterward. This was Master Splinter. The one who had made you feel the safest down here after meeting them. And you had just contemplated shocking him.

You didn't have long to feel guilty though. The turtles all eventually wised up and lunged at their master, pinning all four of his limbs to the kitchen table with difficulty. He continued to writhe violently, and a bead of sweat rolled down your neck.

"Would it help if I jumped onto his chest?" You yelled out, trying to find some way to help. You were met with an astounding amount of no's as an answer.

A few more moments of grunting and struggling played out before you. It didn't take long for Splinter, or whatever had taken his place, to gain the upper hand. Kicking everyone away, he sprung up onto his legs again.

"I have got what I came for." A slight echo tinged his voice. "Soon New York, then the world, will be mine!"

It was then he collapsed, and you finally allowed yourself to clamber down from the top of the fridge. Dust littered the bottom of your arms and legs from how you had been clinging onto it.

"Master, are you okay?" Leonardo was the first to approach him. April next, asking the same exact thing. Splinter grunted lowly in response. You waited with baited breath from him to open his eyes.

You let out a sigh when he did. They were back to brown again.

"The Rat King." Splinter uttered somberly. "He has returned."

You noticed everyone but Casey exchange looks with each other, looking very disturbed at this news.

A brief moment of silence. You blinked twice before speaking.

"The rat who?"

The lair's TV screen blared in front of you. Images of giant rats crossed the screen, and your eyes were trained on a very shrewd looking blonde reporter.

You and Casey had been filled in durring the amount of time it took to help Splinter from the kitchen counter to the living room. Tales of mind control, scientists turned into monkeys, and thousands of rats danced around in your head. You looked no worse than Casey at the news, who had done a horrible job at containing his horror when learning about a literal rat army.

You had barely begun to wonder how the news was still on air when a rat launched itself at the reporter. She dropped to the ground with a scream, and the feed cut to static before you were able to see if she was okay.

"Why did it have to be giant rats." Casey moaned as he flopped onto the couch.

"Er, maybe you should sit this one out Casey." April suggested with a wince. Beside you Donatello allowed himself a smile.

"Do you think tazers could take those things down?" You half heartedly asked no one in particular. Raph crossed his arms and shook his head in your peripheral. You slumped from your spot on the floor with a frown. He patted your shoulder hesitantly. Maybe you could kick them to death instead.

"Donnie, are you sure you can't build a giant mouse trap?"

"Please don't subject my intelligence to something so meaningless." Donnie said your name, rolling his eyes as he messed with his t-phone.

"I bet you'd do it if April asked." You spoke into your hand, not caring if he heard. You heard Mikey laugh at that from somewhere in the distance. If he was anywhere near you, you would have offered him a high-five at the backup.

"Alright guys." Leo now was standing in the center of you all with his hands on his hips. He was doing what you called his Captian Ryan pose, and the sight of it made the corner of your lips twitch into a small smile. If you had to bet, he was probably imagining himself as the fictional character right now.

Master Splinter stood off to the side, watching his son. His own mouth was pulled into a tight line, and he looked the most serious you had seen him in a while. You took one more moment to study him before slowly turning back to Leo.

"I have an idea."

If there was one thing you knew for certain, it was that the turtles definitely did not have a driver's license.

A helmet clunked noisily against your head as you raced through downtown New York City. Rain pelted your vision, and you really regretted not asking for a pair of sunglasses ahead of time.

A four person race-cart sat beneath you, the seats filled by you, April, Donnie and Raph. The latter was driving, occasionally making sharp turns that would send you and Donnie clashing against each other respectively. You accidentally nailed him straight in his shell at one point, and now your elbow was throbbing something awful.

Screams floated to you from behind the cart. You knew if you turned your head, you'd see Mikey holding onto a rope and shouting his shell off, skating like his life depended on it. Which, technically, you guess it did.

The final piece de resistance was the giant foam cheese hat strapped to the top of his head. While you got fitted with an orange helmet that smelled faintly of pizza and sweat, he had been wrestled to the ground and forced to wear the yellow abomination. Apparently he was to be the bait for the giant rats, something that you got the feeling happened very often with him. The bait part you mean. Not giant rats. That was only a two time thing.

Casey was biking around somewhere a few blocks off, hitting stray mutants in the snout with his trusty hockey sticks. The only reason you knew he was still alive and kicking was the faint sounds of shrill screams bouncing off surrounding buildings. You might have laughed if you didn't feel like doing the same thing.

Another tight curb sent you face first into Donnie's lap. With a temper as hot as Raph's own, you scrambled up and yelled at the driver to watch it. You didn't even spare a glance at Donnie, skipping over how incredibly red his face had gotten.

"You try steering in this traffic!" Raphael shouted right back at you. You proceeded to make some not so nice gestures with your hands that April frowned at, the rain making you shake slightly in the cold, before falling back into your seat and awaiting part two of the plan. Something you'd named Grab That Turtle.

Mikey eventually got close enough to the bumper where you could grab his hand. With more effort than it would probably take a normal person, you snatched him up and into the cart. The result was a lovely three person dog pile in the back seat; something that you quickly remedied by pinching Mikey in the arms until he got himself and Donnie off of you.

You didn't even stop to yell at them. In exchange for that, you whipped out your tazer to sent a volt of electricity at a rat that had gotten too close, whooping excitedly when it yelped and fell back. It was nothing like what any of the turtles could have done, but that didn't stop you from feeling way too proud of yourself.

Your moment of celebration was cut short only when you noticed that you were no longer in the race-cart.

Cuts formed all along your face and arms as you tumbled out of the cart and to asphalt. You'd never wanted to discover what street tasted like, but you don't think you'd ever be able to forget it now.

Gravel found its way into your mouth and you felt something pop in your back as a slimey paw trodded on you. Before you could even gather enough strength to push yourself onto your hands and knees, a beak that felt too sharp and too precise for a rat closed around your middle.

Preparing for a quick snip and searing pain, you closed your eyes and grit your teeth. When it didn't come, you peaked an eye open. It was with much shock that you realized the rat wasn't attempting you eat you. Rather carry you, it seemed. Granted, it wasn't being the gentlest about it, but neither were you when you zapped it's brother on the neck.

At the thought of your weapon, you squirmed to try and reach it. Your attempts were stopped by the giant bite around you increasing in strength, practically cutting off all circulation in your arms now.

"Jesus! Fine I'll stop!" You snapped. It responded by dropping you and kicking you forward, growling when you hissed at it in pain.

For the second time that day, the world fell out from beneath you. Where the street should have been, a giant hole gaped. In the split second it took for you to fall through it, you recognized it as an entrance into the sewers.

"Urgh." Was all you could manage to say as the giant rat slid down the same hole, landing on you. Something made a loud cracking sound, and it was only after you felt the back of your head that you realized it had been you.

Your hand came back tinted with red. You glared at it before going cross eyed. And then nothing.

You awoke in a cage, next to the last person you wanted to see at the moment.

A spray painted mask stared back at you as you lifted your head up. It took you a moment for your eyes to adjust, but once they did, nausea slapped you in the face.

"God damnit." You groaned and rolled over. You tried not to vomit. Of course Casey had been caught too. Now instead of just him, the turtles had to rescue you too. Way to go.

Before you could say anything else, your mouth was quickly covered. With half a mind to bite him, you growled. Casey just hit you in the head and no so subtly pointed next to you.

When you turned, you were met with the sight of Irma, who looked thoroughly confused.

The place all of you stood suspended above smelled horrible, and looked worse. You were sure you looked right at home with your torn clothes and hair matted with blood. Casey didn't look that good either, but miraculously Irma didn't have a single scratch on her. The only sign she was even witnessing the same thing as you was the telltale quiver of fear in her eyes.

"Irma?" You questioned with a blink. "What are you doing here?"

"Remember how we went out for pizza?" She frowned.

You nodded.

"I got attacked by a giant rat thing after you left. I tried screaming, but no one was around to help."

You resisted the urge to wince at that last part. Yowch. That had totally been you guy's fault. It seemed like she knew it too. You'd have to take her out for a snack after this or something to make up for it.

"Hey, at least most of us are together now." You reasoned, looking over at Casey. "We can probably try to find a way ou—"

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I've never seen the two of you before." Casey grumbled, his voice a much deeper and much faker octave. You looked over at him with a crazed look in your eyes, not up for games. He just stared right back at you, silently gesturing to himself, his mask, and then a confused Irma while you watched.

"Fine. Whatever. Just, fucking, whatever mystery man." You grabbed the cage bars and hit your head against them twice before stopping.

"That won't work." Irma motioned to your head banging and did her signature move of pushing her glasses up. "I've been down here practically all day. Nothing budges these cages."

At the mention of more cages, you looked past your own to the outside. Sure enough, dangling a good ten feet off the ground and even more away from you, hung other people in mesh boxes just as reinforced as yours. Some cried, while most just looked horrified. They all shared that one thing in common, and you were sure they wished they didn't.

"Welcome esteemed guests."

"Oh please don't tell me it's this guy." You frowned.

"There's no need to fear, I will not hurt you. That I promise." A chuckle rang darkly through the room— cavern? it felt more like a cavern —that you were being kept in. You didn't have to think hard to figure out who it belonged to. It already reaked with enoigh pretentiousness.

Sure enough, when the figure stepped out of hiding and into the light, you got a good look at what had been described to you back at the lair. Tall, covered in bandages, and sporting a horrible choice of a trench coat. You barely held yourself back from booing at him, figuring that it probably wasn't the best way to go undetected. Casey didn't seem to share your carefully thought out sentiment.

"Let us out of here you freak!" He said, still donning his modified voice as he shook the bars to the cage. You kicked him in the back of the knee. A universal sign recognized all over the world to shut the hell up.

"All in good time." The Rat King echoed back.

You groaned and massaged your temples. This was really going to give you another tension headache, wasn't it.

You were left wishing for some Tylenol as your captor dove into an explination, calmly explaining how he had come to capture you. Something about rats, mutagen, science, rats, rats, his intelligence, and more rats. Probably. You stopped listening half way through and started feeling around the cage for anything sharp.

Right as you thought your search would turn out to be fruitless, your hand brushed against the bulk of your waistline. Cool metal met your hand, and with a start, you realized that they hadn't taken your tazer.

They hadn't taken your tazer.

Wracking your mind all the way back to after Splinter freaked out, you remembered the turtles telling you something. About how the Rat King used to be normal, before a freak electrical fire left him blind. Only able to see through the eyes of rats.

Your hand tightened around the base of the tazer. The words electrical fire bounced around in your head.

If a shock got him into this, maybe a shock could get him out.

You paid no attention to Irma as she dropped to the floor in a fainting stupor. The adrenaline and lack of food getting to her probably. You only felt somewhat guilty for your flippant attitude toward her well being.

Tapping Casey on his shoulder, you held a finger up to your lips. Even with his mask on, you could feel the confusion coming off of him in waves as you gestured down to your pants.

"Uh. Dude, you know I sort of have a thing with Red right?" He laughed awkwardly, stepping away. You glared at him with the force of a thousand suns before lifting up your hoodie to reveal the head of your tazer. Pointing out at the Rat King, you watched as his eyes widened in realization.

"I know you have something similar in those goalie gloves of yours Casey." You murmered. "When its our turn for whatever he's planning, let the rats drag us. But when it comes time for him to touch us, zap him."

"You think that will work?" Casey shuddered. You could only imagine that he was thinking about being touched by those rats again. And voluntarily this time.

"It better. If not, it might buy us enough time for the others to get here." You cracked your knuckles nervously. The look that Casey gave you made you tilt your head.

"What?"

"Nothing. I just forget how scary you can get when you're not yelling at me." He rubbed the back of his neck. "The guys should really start letting you come on missions with us."

You snorted and went to say something else. Maybe that he was crazy, or that you didn't quite hate the sound of that. Whatever it was going to be, you were cut off by the clashing of metal against metal.

The door to your cage swung open, and a furry paw grabbed you by the face. Struggling to breathe through the must of rat droppings coming from the living restraint around your face, you weren't aware that you were being lifted off the ground and dragged in the nearest direction of the Rat Kings makeshift lab. Somewhere in the shadows, five sets of hidden eyes widened. The other pair began to turn red.

"Here we have our first volunteer for the serum." The point of a needle came into view as the giant mutated rat dropped you. Brown fur stick to the inside of your mouth as you sputtered like a fish out of water.

Many cries for you to watch out came from the surrounding cages, New Yorkers feeling powerless while watching a teenager get stalked by a needle.

You grasped blindly at your waist. For a horrific split second, you could smell the sourness of his breath as he approached you. And then you felt your fingers close down around plastic.

Flipping the switch on your tazer, you sat up and poked him in the eyes with two fingers. Predictably, it did nothing but make him grunt in annoyance. But it was to his detriment. The action gave you enough time to scramble up and point the tazer at his face, rushing forward and sticking it right between his forhead.

"Suck my dick." You said heavily. Not exactly action hero movie material, but there would be plenty of time to worry about it later.

Blue light lit up his head and upper torso in a painful sparkle. Rats from all around screamed and squealed as their master fell to his knees, clawing at his face. Somewhere inbetween all the tiny cries, you thought you heard a much larger one and then a scuffle.

Your chest heaved as you turned on your heel to climb back up over the cage you had just been sitting in. An enraged cry followed your movements, and you were sure thousands of rats were now surging in your direction. Your only hope was that the zap had slowed all of them down, not just the Rat King.

You began to shimmy up the rope keeping Casey and Irma from falling. Old cuts from tumbling on the street earlier opened back up, staining the rope and ends of your sleeves.

Somewhere in the amount of time it took for you to get to the top of the rope, a fight had broken out underneath you. A part of your mind hoped it was Casey holding his own, and the other part really hoped it wasn't. You weren't sure how long his hockey sticks would hold under a tidal wave of sharp teeth and wormy tails.

Sparing a look down, your eyes were assaulted with flashes of green and silver. Surprise over took your features as you watched the guys emerge from the shadows, weapons batting away any adversary that dare to attack.

And was that—?

"Master Splinter?" You choked, and slipped down the rope slightly before scaling back up.

The sensei, sure enough, was in the midst of all the seperate battles. He appeared to battling with himself, clutching the sides of his head as he stumbled around.

A loud call of your name tore your gaze away from him, coming to settle on a struggling Mikey. He was balancing his nunchucks in one hand, and a blob of pink white and brown in the other.

"Mikey!" You yelled back, still hanging on to avoid the swarm of rats approaching. "Is that the cat I gave you? What the hell is going on!"

"We were coming to save you—" He stopped talking as he dodged another wave of rats before popping back up. "—and then sensei just went crazy! He's chasing after the Rat King now!"

You noticed that Mikey purposefully didn't answer your question about the cat, instead just smiling innocently. Filing it away for later, you continued to make frantic conversation.

"Is there anything I can do!?"

"Help get everyone out of these cages! We can't let any of the civilians see us!" Leonardo butted in from somewhere. You couldn't see him, but it sounded like he was wrestling with something. Nonetheless, you nodded, and positioned yourself in preperation to jump off the rope.

It worked. With dificulty, you managed to land on the top of another cage near to Casey and Irma's. It teetered dangerously in the air, and you swung your hands in a windmill like fashion to avoid falling off.

Grabbing at a lone rat that ran over your foot, you held it to the base of the rope. It squirmed in your clutch angrily before latching onto the fibers and chewing. It didn't take long before breaking through it, and you barely managed to grab onto the end of the rope as it seperated itself from the cage.

The cage fell to the ground in a heap. Smiling, you watched the doors lock break on impact and it's captors rush out. They looked back up at you for a second, and you gestured at them to go.

"Help the others if you can!" Was all you had time to say before jumping to another cage.

Rope after rope snapped under your efforts, and cages fell from the sky like rain from heavy clouds. By the time you had reached the last one, you hadn't even noticed that the fighting below had stopped. Now all of the people had fled, and giant rats lay defeated all over the ground.

You dropped from the last rope, chucking the rat you had been using as a makeshift saw into the distance, sincerely hoping that the stupid Rat King felt that.

"I think that's the last of them." Raph spoke. You saw him and his brothers perched on a ledge above you, and waved. Mikey was the only one to wave back, and what you now knew as his cat from earlier copied the movement.

"What about Master Splinter?" Leo worried.

"He can hold his own." You piped up, bringing the rest of their attention down to you. "And I'm pretty sure he's already won. I don't see any more rats scurrying around after all. Either the mental link has been broken, or your dad beat the Rat King."

The boys seemed to consider your words. Leaping down next to you, they all watched as Donatello placed a hand on your head briefly.

"You did a good job helping today." He grinned good naturedly at you as you swiped at his hands, trying desperately to fix your hair. His smile only grew as you stuck your tounge out at him.

"Whatever. Can we leave now? I'm about done with search and rescue missions for today."

Murmurs of agreement rang out, and you all started towards the exit and back to the lair. All you could think about as the turtles bragged on each other about their performance was a nice long nap. Preferably on their couch. Their nice, soft couch.

Master Splinter returned late into the night. His robe was dirty, and paws aching. But his heart lightened at the sight before him; all of his sons curled up in a deep sleep as you yourself snored on the living room floor. April and Casey weren't far off, slumped over in a sitting position as they slept.

Grabbing the remote from Leonardo's limp hand, he turned the TV's volume down. A quiet snort came from you, and Splinter watched as you reached out to grab at something. A soft smile spread agross his face as you latched onto the nearest thing, which just so happened to be Donnie's leg, and began to lean into it.

"Rest well my children." He surveyed you all, eyes shining. "You have done well today."

The door to his dojo swung shut without a sound, and Splinter fell into a deep slumber of his own.

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