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theasstour · 4 years

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𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐄 | 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 𝟏𝟑𝐤 𝐍𝐁: 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐬

AN: Massive thank you to my dearest @fromyourstrulyh who helped me sm with this chapter! Love you tons, Jess 🐚✨

Monday, 15 June

Fore Street wasn’t particularly busy this early in the morning. People were driving to work, and others were strolling by near the road, leaving the main shopping street of St Ives almost deserted. The bright yellow early morning sun peeked over the rooftops of the stone cottages, casting some of the street in a tad too chilly shadow and the other half in cool sunshine. Having just had breakfast with Bessie, Y/N was strolling along the cobblestoned street, relishing in the calmness at the start of the week.

Wearing her satin pleated forest green midi skirt, a white tee shirt and white Vans, Y/N was a little cold, but her walk wasn’t a long one. She walked by Vintage Divine a few times, but never gone inside, today that was going to change. With her tote bag at the ready in her purse, Y/N entered the vintage shop, quickly noticing she was the second customer there. She strolled on over to what looked to be a rack of dresses and long skirts. She had absolutely nothing else to do all day so she could spend all of it in here, she didn’t care. She’d most likely enjoy her time there very much.

Capital was being played over the speaker, and though Y/N wasn’t sure that was the kind of vibe a vintage shop had, she loved it regardless. It had been so long since she’d been in a vintage shop, and never had she had the privilege of buying something without having people inspect her finds when she got home. She was sure she walked around for an hour, maybe even a bit longer, before she recognised the voice talking behind the till.

Looking over, she saw Florence, one of the ladies in Bessie’s little knitting circle. She picked up the red and pink headband she’d been looking at before making her way toward her. When their eyes met, Y/N gave Florence a wide grin that she returned, waving Y/N over.

“Would you look at that? Speak of the devil, ey, Camila?” Florence said, gesturing at Y/N. A woman around the same age glanced at Y/N over the rim of her glasses, raising her eyebrows as she studied her.

“This is her?”

“Sure is.”

“Oh, my word, what an absolute beauty. Why Harry kept you away for so long is a mystery.”

“Aww,” Y/N chuckled. “Thanks. More to do with privacy than anything else, I suppose.”

“You know,” Florence said as she started scanning the items Y/N wanted to buy. “We were just saying, the person who most needs a partner right now is Harry.”

“Yeah, that lad’s been stuck in that lighthouse ever since his father died. It’s very sad,” Camila went on, making a point of looking at both Y/N and Florence over her glasses to see them clearly. “Maybe you can break him out of his shell a bit. Think having someone like you who can take him out will be good for him.”

“Harry likes being on his own.”

“That’s right,” Florence went on after Y/N, looking at Camila. “Y/N is living at the Crab Inn. At Bessie’s.”

Camila gasped. “He won’t even let her stay at his house?”

Y/N didn’t know why the two women were talking about her like she wasn’t there. Clearing her throat some, she said, “We don’t want to overwhelm each other. We haven’t stayed together for more than a few days before.”

“But don’t new couples bunny out in the first phase of their relationship?” Camila was as blunt as she was almost blind, Y/N thought.

This took Y/N off guard and she forced a breathy chuckle out, bringing a few quid out to pay Florence. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

Camila looked to Florence and Florence only shrugged, Y/N didn’t know if that meant Florence agreed with Y/N or Camila.

“Harry’s a handsome bloke, there’s no reason-“

“Have you at least been to the lighthouse?” Florence asked to speak over Camila, giving Y/N a friendly smile. Y/N appreciated Florence stepping in when she sensed Camila taking it a bit too far.

Y/N nodded, probably a bit too frantically. “Yes, quite a few times.”

“Harry won’t let anyone to the top, says it breaks some rule or something,” Florence said.

“Think it’s just him and his family being a bit selfish, if you ask me,” Camila went on.

“Oh, now you’re being proper arsey, Camila.” Florence only sighed before turning her attention back on Y/N. “Been to the top yet?”

“First place he took me.”

“Of course,” Florence smiled. “See you around, darling.”

“Bye, Florence. Bye, Camila.” Y/N waved at the both of them, walking on out of Vintage Divine and on her way back to the Inn. She felt her heart racing quickly with the lies she’d just told. How could she be fake dating the lighthouse keeper and not have been to the lighthouse yet? Though she hated to lie like that, she reminded herself that the reason she was doing it was to get people off Harry’s back. He seemed like such a genuine lad; she’d do anything to help him. But lying about something she could so quickly change by just taking a walk to the lighthouse seemed silly.

Wednesday, 17 June

Y/N had never been this close to a lighthouse. She’d watched them from afar, never really given them any proper thought. They were an essential part of navigation at sea, but she had no idea how they worked, and until a few days ago, she hadn’t given thought to how they were operated either. She didn’t think lighthouse keepers were a thing anymore, let alone that they even lived in the lighthouse still. Maybe they lived in town and occasionally spent time in the lighthouse, but surely, they didn’t live there.

However, as Y/N walked along the gravel road leading up to Clodgy Lighthouse, that seemed to be the case. It was an elegant white building. Strangely the lighthouse looked like it hadn’t endured a single storm in the decades Y/N knew it had stood there. That therefore made her draw the conclusion that Harry was the one keeping this lighthouse under pristine and incredible conditions. It shone in the sunbeams shining down on it. At the very top, surrounding the beacon at the top of the lighthouse, there was black fencing, so Y/N guessed one could sit out there and get a pretty grand view of the St Ives Bay. Well, not all of it, but a pretty good 360 shot regardless.

Beside the tall white building, stood a one-storey hut. It was white as well, matching transparent embroidered curtains hanging from all the windows Y/N could see from her vantage-point on the gravel road. They were neatly tucked to the side, letting natural daylight stream in through the windows and in on what she assumed to be Harry’s house. It was rectangular, with a dark blue door in the middle of one of the shorter lengths of the house. In front of what looked to be a pebbled driveway sat an old yellow Ford Econoline, a very out-there car for someone who was so incredibly shy.

She did a 360, looking about the open moor that surrounded her. It was completely empty, with no one living near the lighthouse, and St Ives a 40-minute walk from here. It must be equally liberating and lonely, Y/N thought, not sure if she could muster living all by herself like this. But Harry seemed to be just the guy for this job.

Different coloured flowers were strewn around the lighthouse and Harry’s cottage, wild and untamed. It didn’t seem like Harry bothered cutting the grass around his house either, just mainly around the lighthouse, probably for better access, Y/N had no idea. However, upon closer inspection, all types of insects flew to and from all the flowers and plants, zooming away once Y/N hunched down and picked two flowers she didn’t know the name of. She liked the fact that the bees could roam around the little field without problem. They were welcomed and encouraged to stay. Y/N didn’t know if this was Harry’s intention, but she liked to think it was. She’d always wanted to get into gardening, but she’d never had the time.

The door to the cottage opened and Harry came to view, taking a few steps outside to see what Y/N was doing by the ground. She stood, smiling and waving as she made her way over to him. He wore a pair of tapered retro black jeans, cuffed at the ankles, along with a loose fitted white, orange and blue shirt, one part of the front tucked into his jeans. His feet were bare, and his hair was a mess. It looked like she’d caught him off guard.

“Hiya,” Y/N smiled, walking closer. “Good morning.”

“Ehm…” Harry nodded, running a hand through his hair. While doing so it was as if he remembered he hadn’t styled it this morning, hurriedly trying to make it look somewhat decent without the help of a mirror. “Morning.”

“Did I startle you?”

“What? Oh! No, no, I…” He trailed off, pointing through the door with his thumb but letting his hand fall to his thigh, hitting it lightly. “Just drinking me morning cuppa reading the paper.”

“I’ve been up since 7, so I haven’t really done much besides eat and then walk here.”

Harry nodded, and for a few seconds, the two were left in silence as they just looked at one another. Neither knew what to say, or even what to talk about. They didn’t know what they had in common, or if they had anything in common at all. Y/N just knew she wanted to get to know the man she was supposed to be in a relationship with this summer. Coming to visit his lighthouse and home seemed like a good thing to do. She didn’t know what Harry was thinking, but by the blank look he was giving her, she was starting to regret coming here at all.

However, that was not going to stop her. If they wanted to make this work, she didn’t want to make it awkward for them by not knowing how to act around Harry when they were around people.

“So,” she started, walking past Harry and his van. “This is the tall, pointy house you were referring to the other day.”

Harry followed her towards the lighthouse, unbothered by the gravel under his bare feet. “Yeah, it draws attention, doesn’t it?”

Y/N giggled. “How much time do you spend keeping it clean? It doesn’t look weather-beaten at all. Would’ve thought lighthouses to be in much worse conditions.”

“Trinity House comes and does a thorough clean about once a year, but I do most of the work myself. As long as the sailors can tell this is Clodgy Lighthouse, then it’s fine.”

She paused. “Trinity House?”

“The official authority of lighthouses in the UK.”

“Ahh!” She nodded. “And how do sailors know this is Clodgy?”

Harry pointed at it, referring to the entire thing with a sweeping up and down hand motion. “From the sea, a lighthouse may be identified by the distinctive shape or colour of its structure, by the colour or flash pattern of its light, or by the coded pattern of its radio signal,” he explained and the more he talked, the more Y/N could detect a northern accent. “When ships pass here, they’ll know it’s Clodgy by the pattern of the beacon, as well as the fact it’s completely white. Others may be other colours, for example white and red stripes. But Clodgy’s always been white, I couldn’t really change it if I wanted to. Not that I do.”

That was the most she’d ever heard Harry speak, from what she knew about him so far he wasn’t much of a talker. Too nervous and shy by nature, it seemed.

“I didn’t think of that before.”

“You also didn’t think they were operated by lightkeepers anymore.”

Y/N gasped, smiling at Harry as he tore his eyes away from her, his dimples showing as he glanced to the ground again. “He’s got bants.”

Harry chuckled. “Career in stand-up comedy next.”

She laughed, walking around the lighthouse and looking about the cliffs. They were steep, looking right down on big rocks that made up most of the Clodgy Point where the lighthouse was positioned. Harry was standing a fair distance away, leaning against the white building with his hands in his jean pockets. Because of the constant wind, Y/N walked closer and leaned against the lighthouse as well, studying the landscape and the ocean before them.

“I’ve mostly seen masonry and brick lighthouses, this is concrete,” she said, not wanting their conversation to die out this early. She’d just gotten here. Maybe lighthouses weren’t their main concern seeing as they needed to establish their relationship before facing other people, but it seemed to be what Harry was most comfortable speaking about and she wanted him to feel comfortable around her.

“Concrete and steel are the most widely used materials,” he said. “Concrete especially makes for an aesthetically pleasing design for shore-based lighthouses.”

“Shore-based? There are different kinds. I mean, I always thought lighthouses would be out on islands rather than on land.”

“Yeah, there are-“ He stopped himself, looking at her to his right and meeting her eyes for a few seconds. “I won’t bore you with lighthouse facts.”

“Wouldn’t ask if I didn’t wanna know.”

He bit his lips together, turning to face the sea again. “Right.”

She continued to watch him, waiting patiently for him to find the right words to speak again.

He cleared his throat and went on. “There are two types of lighthouses, yeah? Those located on land and those located offshore. A land lighthouse like this one-“ Harry knocked on the concrete wall behind him. “-Its job is to aid navigation over land rather than water. They’re usually constructed in areas of flatland where the featureless landscape and prevailing weather conditions might cause travellers to get disoriented or lost. A tower like this is therefore visible for miles.”

“Makes sense.” Y/N nodded, glancing up at the house as Harry continued.

“Offshore lighthouses are the ones you seem to think of, they’re far from land. Reasons for them being built in that specific area can be ‘cause of a shoal, a reed, or a submerged island several miles from land. They’re there to warn sailors they’re close to dangerous territory, basically.”

“You know so much about this stuff.”

“It’s my job.”

Y/N laughed, maybe a little too loudly but she found it funny, so she didn’t see a reason to be embarrassed or excuse her loud exclamation of joy. “That explains your obsession.”

He smiled, meeting her eyes for a second before glancing at his bare feet. “What’s yours?”

“My job?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh…” Now it was her turn to not want to meet his eyes. It wasn’t that she was ashamed, it was just that her answer was so boring. Maybe even a little unusual, especially for someone who should’ve been in the middle of finishing uni right about now. “I don’t have one.”

“You doing uni then?”

“Nope.”

That got Harry to shut up. It was clear he didn’t know what other questions to ask after that. What did you ask someone who didn’t have a job and didn’t go to uni without sounding disrespectful or degrading? He glanced away, pursing his lips as he fell silent again.

“My Mum was a stay-at-home Mum, so I was kind of expected to end up the same way. Trained for it my whole life and all.”

“You don’t want to do that?”

“No.” Y/N shook her head. “I mean, it would be perfect in a sense ‘cause I could read all the time, but I don’t want to spend eternity reading, you know what I mean?”

“Know exactly what you mean.”

She smiled at him. “You don’t like reading?”

“It’s not something I do very often, no.”

“Boring.”

Harry chuckled.

“It’s fun,” Y/N said, trying to sound convincing, but she was sure that if some people didn’t like to read, she wasn’t about to force them to buy a book and read it. “Anyway, I got this one dream a few years back, but it’s silly, really.”

Just then, the same ringing tone she’d heard from Harry’s phone before sounded from his pocket again. He cursed under his breath and brought his phone up, looking at the screen for a few seconds as if reading something before shoving it into his pockets again.

“I…” He sighed, running a hand over his face. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

“No, if you have to take that, it’s no big deal.”

“It’s nothing, no one’s calling me-“ But he was interrupted by the ringing sounding again. He brought his phone out and brought it up to his upper right arm before checking it again, sighing before looking at Y/N. He gave her an apologetic smile before motioning back to the house. “Gotta get back in there.”

“That’s fine,” she said, really meaning it.

Harry nodded, biting at his bottom lip as the two of them walked back in silence. The wind was still harsh, but Y/N guessed that was because of the flat landscape and the ocean being right there. She was used to wind, but not as constant as this.

“Listen,” Harry said as they reached his front door that he’d left open. “I’m so sorry about the whole fake relationship thing. I feel like I pushed it on you, and you don’t really wanna do it. You don’t have to do it-“

“-I genuinely don’t have anything else to do all summer. I think it’d be fun.”

Harry nodded, running a hand through his hair. She could see the ghost of a smile on his lips. “Right, yeah.”

“We good?”

“Yeah, I just want to make it clear that we can break this off whenever. If it hadn’t been for me and my lie, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“It’s honestly fine. It’ll keep my otherwise dull summer eventful and it’ll help you out. Think it works out fine, we just have to establish our relationship a bit so we don’t go around telling stories that contradict one another.”

His smile grew some. “Smart. We should definitely just sit down and figure it out.”

“What’s your number?” she asked, walking over to him with her phone in her hand. He reached for it, meeting her eyes to ask if it was fine that he grabbed for it. She gave him a little smile; he took it and typed his number into her phone. “Just so we can get a hold of one another and figure everything out. I’ll send you a text so you get mine.”

He kissed his teeth for a second or two and gave her phone back to her before saying so quickly Y/N barely understood what he was getting at, “Would you mind coming to Gracie’s birthday party on Saturday?”

Y/N remembered Jessa and Grace inviting her when she met them a few days prior, but she hadn’t thought about it till now. Harry’s brows were knitted together, something that resembled worry on his face as if he expected her to turn him down.

“Yes, of course! When? Oh!” Y/N jumped a little, suddenly experiencing a jolt of excitement rolling through her. “Has she got a list of things she wants for her birthday? I should get her a present.”

“You really don’t have to,” Harry said, but he was smiling.

“I think I do, and I love shopping.”

Harry’s smile widened and he looked at the pebbles under Y/N’s feet. “I’ll pick you up at 2pm on Saturday, then. It’s on the family farm, just a five-minute drive from town.”

“That sounds so lovely.”

“It’s the best place on earth,” Harry agreed, staying quiet for a couple more seconds before he seemed to remember why the two had walked back to his house in the first place. He shook his head quickly, clearing his throat and taking a step closer to the door. “Right, I’m sorry I can’t hang out more today. I got to… work.”

“That’s completely fine, I’ll talk to you later. You know where to find me.” She deliberately used that last sentence as he’d used it when they last parted ways, and it seemed Harry recognised that as well. He met her eyes as she started walking backward, giving her a genuine smile, one of his dimples showing. She waved her bouquet of two wildflowers, hearing Harry’s phone ring again as she turned around to walk off, and then his front door shutting quickly after.

Saturday, 20 June

Two different massive books lay on the desk in front of Y/N, one a little bigger than the other. She wasn’t sure which one was better to get her started, she hadn’t researched that before buying them at the Waterstones at home in Hampshire. All she knew was that they would both help make her achieve the same thing: master the UCAT exam. She hadn’t signed up for it yet, didn’t know when the next one was, but she knew that before she did that, she had to study first. But which one of the massive books was she supposed to open first?

The University Clinical Aptitude Test was used by most UK Universities on top of general applications, and academic qualifications, for their medical and dental programs. It aimed to help Universities select applicants with the most appropriate skills and attributes required to be a successful doctor or dentist. It was a test that Y/N, who was usually good at not stressing herself out, was sure would make her very nervous.

Her parents had never been interested in her achievements at school. They were sure she’d end up like her mother, and quite liked the fact she’d picked up reading and that she read as she did. It was an intellectual and quiet hobby they thought suited her well. Though Y/N loved to read, she didn’t want to study it in school. She didn’t want to taint something she found so much peace in with sleepless nights and forced readings. No, she had always wanted to keep that part of her life in a separate box from her academic one.

In school, she’d always thought science subjects to be fascinating. She ended up studying chemistry, biology, and maths for A-levels, she realised she did well in them because she thoroughly enjoyed her time there. Though it was hard, she liked how it opened her up to everything she wanted. Her parents hadn’t cared much for what she studied in A-levels, but it seemed to have shocked them that she did so well in subjects that juxtaposed with everything they thought Y/N was interested in. A little part of her was proud of herself for startling her parents like that; for doing the unthinkable in their eyes.

However, that was years ago now. Y/N hadn’t touched an academic book since. She was 25 and hadn’t gone to University like her friends from school. She hadn’t pursued her dreams. In her strict, rich family, she didn’t have to work a single hour for the rest of her life because her Dad had all the money they’d ever need. Plus, she hadn’t helped herself when she started going out with Dominic, another man who studied Business Management at University and someone whom Y/N’s Dad very much approved of. Y/N had been set. That was her life.

But she didn’t want that. She’d never wanted that. When she told her parents and Dominic this, they agreed it could get a bit tedious sitting around doing nothing but house chores all day. Y/N and her Mum had therefore volunteered at the hospital in town a few days a week, and some other days Y/N spent volunteering at a dentist. That was when she realised, she wanted to be a dentist. She didn’t really know why, had never really harboured a proper explanation for her interest, but she knew she wanted to be one. When Y/N told her Mum this, she just shook her head and took Y/N’s hand.

“What’d I do if you went away to uni, darling?” she asked, something that immediately sent a jolt of sadness and guilt through Y/N. Her Mum was right, she couldn’t just leave her. Y/N was the only child her parents had; she couldn’t disappoint them.

Y/N ran her hands over her face and then through her hair, forcing back the tears that were threatening to spill over. She wasn’t going to cry. She just wasn’t. Why would she cry? She’d escaped the life she hated back in Winchester, the two UCAT practice books she’d bought in secret at Waterstones were right before her, waiting to be opened and devoured. Why was she thinking about her life before this?

Y/N jumped up from her seat, looking at herself in the mirror beside the dresser. She quickly wiped away the tears on her cheek, as if doing it fast enough would hide the fact she was crying. She refused to cry.

Walking downstairs, she helped herself to a cup of tea in the kitchen, saying a quick hi to Bessie and her ladies before walking back upstairs. Putting her cuppa down on the desk, she gave her cheeks a little slap each, then sat down.

“Concentrate,” she hissed at herself, opening the window in front of the desk to let in some fresh air and seagull song.

Taking a deep breath, she reached for the bigger of the two books, tapping her fingers against the blue cover as if bracing herself for what she’d find on the inside. Opening the book and starting to read it was a commitment. That was a big if, because so far she had a ton of money on her credit card, but she didn’t have enough to pay for University tuition or rent.

She closed her eyes and willed herself to not think about anything but the contents of the book before her. If she wanted to do this, she’d have to do it with her whole heart, she couldn’t let anything distract her when she wanted to read for the UCAT. Inhaling slowly, she opened the book, reading the table of contents before the introduction..

She could do this, she believed in herself. She told herself that over and over again the next three hours, not losing sight of what she wanted and deserved. At the end of the day, if she didn’t tell herself those things, who else would?

“You look lovely,” Bessie said as Y/N stood in the lobby of the Inn, grinning from ear to ear. “Heading somewhere special, dear?”

Y/N looked down at her baby blue mini smock dress, small daisies printed and sporadically littered all over it. She smiled at Bessie, nodding her head a little. “It’s Harry’s little sister’s birthday.”

Bessie raised her eyebrows a tad, a knowing smile on her lips. She looked Y/N up and down again. “You’re going to that are you?”

“Yes, is this inappropriate?”

“No, no!” Bessie laughed. “I’m just happy to see you and Harry hanging out. He’s such a sweet lad.”

“He is, yeah.” Y/N was unsure if she should thank Bessie for the other day, or if it had been so long now that it would be weird. The innkeeper had never brought it up again, never talked about Harry until today, but judging by the raised eyebrows and smile on her face, Y/N was sure Bessie knew more than she was supposed to. However, seeing as she’d lied with Harry and Y/N, Y/N trusted Bessie to not tell people. It’d break Jessa’s heart for sure, and Y/N had a hunch that if that woman’s heart was broken, the entire town’s would be as well.

The mellow yellow Ford van Y/N had seen a few days earlier at Harry’s pulled up in front of the Inn’s open entrance. A pair of orange pilot sunglasses were perched on his nose, almost matching the exterior of the car. He reached down rolling the window down manually, giving Y/N a smile when their eyes met, and then Bessie the same one when he noticed her standing by the reception desk.

“You alright?” he asked just as the window got a bit stuck. He yanked the handle a bit to get it all the way around and stopped when the window was fully open. Clearing his throat, he reached to rest his arm where the window was no more, bumping his elbow and top of his head in the process. Bessie chuckled some behind Y/N, but Y/N held her giggles back. Opting for a smile instead once Harry met her gaze again.

“Get yourself a proper car, Harry,” Bessie said.

“This one works just fine, Bess.” Harry pushed his sunglasses further up the bridge of his nose as they slid down some when he bumped his head. “Besides, it’s massive.”

“Why do you need a massive car?”

“Massive car for a massive hunk.” He glanced at Y/N again as both women laughed at his remark. “You ready?

“Tell you-“ Y/N said as she stepped outside, on her way around the front of the car when she stopped herself, waving at Bessie. “Bye, Bessie!”

“Bye, dear! Have fun!”

Y/N opened the passenger side door and jumped a little to get inside the van, sitting down in the seat and putting her seatbelt on as she talked. “Tell you what, you got bants.”

“What happens when you grow up overweight,” Harry said, a smile on his face so she’d know he was making light of the situation.

“Oh?” Y/N asked, rolling down her window as well when Harry motioned for her to do so.

“The AC’s a bit fucked,” he explained, giving Bessie one last wave before driving off down the Terrace. Wind blew in on them, nice contrast to the scorching sun outside, though it was a bit loud, but Harry just talked over it. “But yeah, you got to be the cracking bloke who always tells jokes and makes everyone laugh. Why else would they want you in their circle?” There was a slight pause. “Actually, forget I said that. That’s an incredibly depressing place to start our day together, I-“

Y/N just laughed, finding the way Harry’s cheekbones turned all red and how he scratched at his neck in embarrassment, adorable.

“Sorry,” he said.

“You don’t have to say you’re sorry, it’s completely fine.” She opened her purse, rummaging through it. “I got Grace this.” She held a headband out. Pink silk with red along the edges and red roses to match, Y/N had absolutely adored it when she saw it in Vintage Divine a few days before and she thought it’d look good in Gracie’s dark hair. “Dunno if she likes this kind of stuff, but if she doesn’t then Jessa’s free to take it.”

“If you give her something that nice, she’s going to cherish it and wear it every day. Mark my words.”

Y/N giggled. “Alright, I will mark them.”

Harry smiled a bit at that, keeping his eyes on the road ahead. When he didn’t notice her staring, Y/N took a few seconds to just study him and what he was wearing. A green and white tee shirt tucked into dark blue denim jeans, a pair of worn-down white Vans on his feet. He looked good, and the orange sunglasses made the whole outfit. She glanced away, not wanting to seem like a creep or like she was checking him out, because she was not.

“Who is coming to this birthday then?” she asked, putting the headband down in her purse again.

“Family. Maybe some of Gracie’s friends, but I think they’re having two separate birthday parties. Jessa and Gracie love a good social convention.”

Y/N smiled. “And you don’t?”

“I live by myself in a lighthouse.”

She laughed. “You don’t like people?”

“Nah, it’s not that,” Harry explained. “More the fact that I want to choose when to be around them, you know what I mean? I need a bit of breathing space, being around someone all the time makes me feel a bit claustrophobic.”

“Gotcha.”

Harry was silent for a few moments as he put on his turning signalled and then turned. “What about you?”

“Pardon?”

“Do you like people?”

Y/N sat back in her seat properly, thinking about that question for a little bit. “Depends.”

“Okay.”

“If I don’t particularly like spending time with them, I don’t want to be around them.”

“Understandable.”

“But if I don’t know them very well yet or if I like them, then I don’t mind. I don’t like feeling lonely.”

“But if you don’t know the people you’re around, that’s just as lonely as being alone, isn’t it?”

“Maybe, but if you don’t know someone, that’s potential to get to know them and make a friend,” she explained, watching as the town centre of St Ives started disappearing around them.

“Hmm,” Harry hummed, waving at someone out his window. “Can see that.”

Y/N smiled. “You seem popular, though.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, everyone seems to know who you are.”

“The former lighthouse keeper’s son, and now current lighthouse keeper. Think that’s why.”

Y/N shrugged, not wanting to press the subject as she didn’t want to force an image of him that she’d created in her head onto him before getting to know him. She had to trust what he was saying and make her own observations. “What’re you giving Grace for her birthday then?”

“Trip to St Austell next Friday,” he said, stepping down on the gas a bit once they were on a more deserted country road. “About an hour north from here. There’s gonna be a street market there and she loves going on trips with me. She gets to decide the music, what shops we go to, and I always buy her two ice creams even though Jessa has a strict ‘only one ice cream per trip’ policy. We usually don’t give one about that.”

“That sounds wonderful.”

“It kind of is, yeah.”

“Is there something special about St Austell, then?”

Harry turned his lips downward for a second. “Not really. Just know from a mate who travels there a lot that there’s gonna be a street market on their high street.”

“Every fortnight, there would be a market in the town centre at home. Anyone could put up a stall and sell their homemade stuff. There was always this cheese and this fish booth standing right next to one another, and they smelled absolutely rank.”

Harry smiled. “You don’t like the smell of cheese and fish?”

“I’ve never been a fan of cheese, and though fish isn’t bad smelling, it… right okay, doesn’t smell good, does it?”

Harry shrugged. “Dunno, I’ve lived here most of my life, so I’ve gotten quite used to the smell of fish over the years. Doesn’t really faze me now.”

“Lucky you, then.”

“And cheese is amazing.”

“That’s a blatant untruth. How dare you?”

Harry laughed, scrunching up his nose some before putting his turning signal on and then driving off the concrete road and onto a gravel one. They drove in silence the last part up to the farm. Forest rose up around them, but not thick enough so that you couldn’t make out distant houses or driveways leading up to other farms or neighbourhoods. It didn’t take long till Harry drove down a wider driveway, a thin line of trees along the edge of the estate that Y/N assumed was the Styles family’s.

A brick house along with a smaller brick house stood at the end of the small drive. Stone fencing surrounded the house, but the field outside of it was lush, green, and huge. Cars were parked there and people were hanging out inside the stone fence, sitting on tables or standing chatting. Different coloured flowers grew in front of the fence and by the looks of it, Jessa was growing a lot of vegetables on the other side. There were a few trees behind the house and inside what seemed to be the main area of the lot, so Y/N assumed they were trees that grew fruits as well. She couldn’t seem to remove her eyes from the little country oasis before her. It looked so tranquil that she almost wanted to live on a farm herself.

Harry parked his car on the grass outside the fence along with the rest of the guests. The second Grace noticed the mellow yellow van, she ran out to greet her older brother. Harry smiled at the sight of her and stopped the car, quickly turning to Y/N as he took his seatbelt off and started manually rolling up his window.

“I won’t leave your side, yeah? This can be a bit overwhelming, and you’ve never met my family before-“

“-And I won’t leave yours,” Y/N assured him, nodding as she took off her seatbelt as well. “Harry, we need to discuss our backstory-“

“-Harry!” Grace shouted, banging on the door and trying to get it open.

“One second, Gracie, I’m rolling the window up.” He turned his attention to Y/N. “Just keep yours down, it’ll get hot in here ‘cause of the sun.” He made sure his was shut before he paused for a moment, blinking once. “Fuck, we haven’t-“

“-Harry!” Grace knocked on the door again, jiggling the handle. “You haven’t said happy birthday to me yet!”

He sighed, giving Y/N a look before turning toward his door. “Step away, Grace. If I open the door now, I’ll mow you over.”

Y/N stepped outside as well, for the first time then paying attention to the noise of the farm. She thought she heard hens somewhere in between the chatter of the party guests, the smell of the open nature around her offering something besides the salt ocean and fish of St Ives. On the other side of the car, Harry pretended to struggle picking Grace up, something that had his little sister laughing. He walked over to the other side to Y/N, Grace grinning from ear to ear when she finally saw who’d come with Harry.

“You came!” Grace exclaimed, clapping her hands together.

“Couldn’t miss your birthday, could I?” Y/N grinned, opening her purse. “My birthday present isn’t as good as your brother’s, but here you go.”

She handed Grace the headband and as Harry gasped, Grace gasped with him. He put her down, letting her study her birthday present.

“It’s so pretty,” Grace said. “I think I like it more than Harry’s.”

“Oi!” Harry frowned down at her. “Hurting my feelings now, mate.”

Grace only giggled, giving Y/N a smile. “Thank you.”

“Happy birthday.”

“There’s food!” Grace pointed at the house and started making her way there, expecting the two to follow. Harry made sure Y/N was tagging along before the two strolled after his little sister.

“How old is she now?”

“Seven.”

“Oh.” Y/N blinked a few times. “Thought she was ten when I met her.”

Harry let out a breathy laugh. “That’s weird.”

“Hey now. I don’t know what seven-year-olds look like.” Y/N nudged his arm with her shoulder. It only made him laugh again.

“Oh, uhm…” He swallowed, glancing between the farm and Y/N. “You don’t have to do this, but with my grandpa – or step-grandpa, I usually call him lolo, which is Tagalog for grandpa – the pamilya and lolo would really appreciate if you did the mano po.”

“Mano po?”

“It’s a gesture of respect for the elders, basically. You take their hand-“ Harry pretended as if there was a hand before him. “And you take their knuckles or their hand and touch it to your forehead. Instead of a handshake, you do that. We don’t really do it to anyone else here as we don’t have that much Filipino family in Cornwall, but lolo is big on it. It’s dying out a bit, not a lot are doing it anymore, but lolo wants to keep the tradition going, and it’s not really asking for much, is it? Plus, it’s very nice.”

Y/N smiled. “How lovely.”

“It’s performed with the right hand.” Harry waved his right hand in the air in such a way that had a few of their family members waving back at him, he played it off as if that was his intent, clearing his throat as he turned back to Y/N. “You say ‘mano po’ to him to kind of ask permission to do it. I don’t do that anymore ‘cause he knows me and expects me to do it, but I think he’d appreciate you asking first.”

“Okay, nice to know.”

“It’s very important for Filipino children to do this as it shows respect to the elders, but they continue to do it to their elders even when they grow up. They’re kind of asking for a blessing from the elder, it’s usually done when entering their house or seeing them.”

“Oh, so… this is a bit of a big deal?”

Harry huffed, shrugging his shoulders. There was silence for a moment before a quick, “Yes.”

“Grand.”

“Also might want to do it to nanay.”

“Jessa?”

“She once grounded Grace for not doing the mano po when she came home from school.” Harry opened the small gate leading into the farm. “I don’t think she expects you to do it, but I usually do when I see her.”

Y/N took a big breath, for the first time since coming to the farm feeling nervous. “I shook her hand when I first met her. Was that wrong of me?”

“Again,” Harry said, trying to give Y/N a reassuring smile. “She didn’t expect you to do the mano, but I think she’ll appreciate you doing it.”

“Harry!” Jessa called from across the lawn, waving them both over. Beside her sat a very old man in a chair by a table, surrounded by others that Y/N guessed also were family members.

“Hiya,” Harry said as they got closer, taking Jessa’s hand and bringing it to his forehead, touching her so tenderly and with so much respect it took Y/N’s breath away. She now understood why it was such a big deal to Jessa, Harry’s lolo, Harry, and their entire family, not just their Filipino part. As Harry removed her hand from his forehead, she grinned up at him, giving his hand a quick kiss before turning to Y/N.

“When Harry told us you were actually coming I started crying,” Jessa said, beaming so genuinely and widely her eyes were mere slits of pure happiness on her face. “Welcome to the farm!”

“Thank you so much,” Y/N smiled back, offering her hand and before Jessa could reach forward and shake it, Y/N said a soft, “Mano po?”

Jessa didn’t hide her surprise, but she was quick to wipe it off her face and nod once at Y/N. Jessa’s hand was warm and rough, reflecting the many years she’d lived on this earth and the hardships she must’ve gone through. Gently and with as much care as she could muster, Y/N brought Jessa’s knuckles to her forehead and held them there for a moment before lowering it. She understood why it was such an important tradition to their family now; it was respect. Doing so told the elders how much the youngers admired them, Y/N really liked it. Jessa squeezed her hand, gesturing with a pout of her lips to the right where lolo was sitting.

Harry was already taking his lolo’s hand, holding it to his forehead before lowering his lolo’s hand again. Harry gestured behind him, saying something Y/N didn’t catch. She smiled at Harry’s grandpa, offering to take the lolo’s hand and saying another “Mano po” to ask permission first. The lolo held his hand out for Y/N and she took it carefully, pressing the knuckles gently to her forehead for three seconds before lowering it again. The lolo didn’t give Y/N as much of a smile as Jessa had, but Harry had again explained how important this was to him. He’d most likely expected her to do it upon arrival. They shared a look and he blinked once, and for some reason, Y/N understood that was him telling her he appreciated her effort.

“Y/N, you have to try some of the food!” Grace took Y/N’s hand, dragging her away from everyone to get something to eat.

“Sorry, I’ll come over in a bit,” Y/N said to the little group, feeling relieved when Harry followed her and his sister. They entered the house, taking the first open door to the left to the dining room. The walls were a relaxing white, filled with pictures and lamps and art clearly made by kids. In the middle of the room stood the table, filled with food and drinks. And in the middle of it, taking up most of the space and hard not to have your eyes immediately fall to it, laid a pig.

“This,” Grace said, giving Y/N a plate before pointing at the first casserole of food. “This is shanghai lumpia, it’s one of my favourites. It’s egg rolls with sweet chilli sauce. This is sausage rolls, and scotch eggs, and this is palabok-“

“-Gracie,” Harry interrupted, standing on the opposite side of the table from them with a plate in his hand as well, helping himself to some shanghai lumpia. “Take it easy. Let Y/N have a look herself.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll let you look,” Grace said, making Y/N laugh.

“And what’s that?” she asked, pointing to the pig on the table that Grace had forgot to mention.

“Oh! Lechon!” Grace grinned from ear to ear. “It’s my favourite.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a whole roasted pig,” Grace explained. “It’s been cooked over charcoal for 6 hours. The entrails are removed and after seasoning, nanay skews the entire pig on a large bamboo stick and places it over the charcoal. You gotta be super patient to do it, which is why nay is so good at it.”

“The slow process makes the skin of the pig become very crispy and the meat’s always very tasty,” Harry chimed in, smiling at Grace as she nodded enthusiastically.

“A Filipino party is never complete without one. You know it’s a special occasion when nanay serves lechon.”

“So it’s served on special occasions?” Y/N asked, watching as Grace asked Harry to help her to a serving of it. He did, putting it on her plate as an excited squeal erupted from the seven-year-olds mouth. Y/N could see parts of Jessa in the small human before her and it made her very happy.

“Graduations, marriages, birthdays, Christmas, New Year’s, you name it,” Harry said.

“It’s my favourite part of special occasions.” Grace reached for a fork.

“While this all sounds lovely,” Y/N started, looking at the table packed with food. “I’m vegetarian.”

Grace looked to Harry. “Nay is gonna be mad with you.”

“Uhm, I…” He looked at Y/N, mouth opening and closing as he tried to come with an explanation. “I-I… There’s gonna be a brutal murder at noon.”

Grace laughed, finding Harry’s helplessness entertaining. Y/N was aware she should’ve told him before this, but it had completely slipped her mind. The last week had been incredibly interesting trying to convert into vegetarianism. It had been hard, and she’d slipped up a few times, but she really wanted to make an effort. She noticed Harry looking down the table frantically, eyes moving between the different dishes.

“I mean, if there’s no vegetarian food, I’ll just eat-“

“-Tarte!”

All of them fell quiet, watching as Harry blinked a few times, realising he’d just shouted that out loud. Biting his bottom lip and running a hand through his hair, he gestured at the pan nonchalantly.

“The root vegetable tarte,” he said, a little more calmly.

“Oh?”

Grace pointed at it at the other end of the table and Y/N walked over. “Nay makes the best root vegetable tarte. You’ll love it,” Grace smiled, watching as Y/N helped herself to a serving.

“Thank you, Grace.”

Someone shouted something from the front garden, Y/N recognised the voice as Jessa’s and supposed other guests had arrived. She was probably calling for Grace to come say hi.

“Don’t tell your Mum,” Harry hissed as Grace started making her way out.

“She’ll find out eventually.”

“Not from you.”

Grace walked outside and Harry sighed, gesturing for Y/N to follow him into the living room where they could sit and eat in peace. There were some friends of the family in there, but Harry only said a quiet hello before sitting down, shielding Y/N a bit from view. She supposed he did it more so she wouldn’t be bombarded with questions than anything else, she really appreciated that.

The living room faced the back garden; big and open, a few trees every here and there along with a greenhouse. A fireplace stood by the far wall, one sofa placed beside it and a telly before the sofa. There was another sofa opposite the dining room entrance, Harry had made the two of them sit in that one, clearly so they wouldn’t have to chat with the small group huddled behind the television. Again, in the living room as well, pictures of Harry, Grace, and the family were everywhere. Y/N had never seen this many frames on a wall before, or in a house even.

They started eating in silence, but Harry had barely managed to eat one lumpia before someone came over. He put the plate away, smiling up at the two women in their late 30’s it seemed.

“Y/N, my aunts Rachel and Abby. Aunties, this is my girlfriend, Y/N.”

Y/N sat up a bit straighter as Rachel and Abby started talking over one another, high-pitched voices that showed of unapologetic excitement. They reached for her hand to shake it.

“Jessa has told us so much about you,” Abby said.

“Well, not much, anyway, but she’s talked about you. She’s obsessed,” Rachel went on.

“We’re Harry’s Dad’s sisters, by the way.”

“But Harry’s never told us where you’re from! Where are you from?”

“And how did you meet?!”

“Harry hasn’t talked much about you, he likes to be a bit mysterious, don’t you, Haz?” Rachel pinched Harry’s cheek, laughing a little at his grimace.

“No, but seriously, how did you meet? Where was your first date?”

“You’ve kept her a secret for so long, we need to know everything.”

“Auntie Abby, Rachel,” Harry said, chuckling a little as he sighed. “You’re gonna overwhelm her if you keep going.”

“It seems unlikely that a lad that quiet has a loud family, doesn’t it?” Abby asked, nodding in the direction of Harry, but asking Y/N the question. Y/N was about to say something when Rachel interrupted her.

“You look proper posh. Don’t reckon you’ve ever made a flowerbed, have you? Harry,” Rachel said, looking at Harry. “Did you get yourself one of them posh girls from London?”

“Alright.” Harry stood from the sofa. “We’re escaping.” He turned around, offering Y/N his hand. Him doing that took her a bit off guard. They’d never touched each other, and they were just going to start holding hands? She hadn’t felt a jolt of panic till then, she didn’t know why. Gently, she placed her hand in his. It was soft, rough as if he was used to handling mechanics and doing manual labour, but the skin was soft regardless. She didn’t know how he managed the combination.

He helped her up into a standing position, letting go of her hand when she stood right beside him. They left their plates behind as Harry manoeuvred his way around his aunties, making sure Y/N was following him as he made his way up the stairs in the foyer.

“It was nice meeting you,” Y/N called over her shoulder, smiling at them. She hoped it came across as genuine. Harry walked up the stairs and down the corridor to his right, entering the room on the left. He held the door open for her, closing it once they were inside.

He let go of a small groan. “Masters of doing my head in.”

“They were very chatty.”

“One way of putting it.” Harry sat on a single bed and it was then that she noticed they were in a bedroom. The walls were a bright green colour, posters of different Manchester United players and other football things. Y/N didn’t know enough about the sport to say anything definitely, but she knew the Manchester United logo when she saw it. The room was fairly small, only a wardrobe pushed up against the same wall the bed was and a tiny desk under the window. Judging by the picture of a man and a boy on the nightstand, Y/N concluded this had to be Harry’s childhood room. That picture was of him and his father. They looked so much alike it warmed her heart. She wouldn’t pry, but she continued to look around, letting Harry sit in silence on the bed for a minute or two.

“Wondered why you had a bit of a northern accent,” she said, gesturing at the posters. “You’re from Manchester?”

“Mancunian at heart, yeah.”

“Why’d you move down here? Don’t northerners hate the south and southerners?”

Harry smiled a little at that, looking at her. “Depends on what kind of southerner you’re talking about.”

Y/N chuckled, glancing at the posters again. “The posh ones.”

Harry let out a breathy chuckle. “Only those from London.”

Y/N kept her eyes on the posters. “So, why’d you move? If you don’t mind me asking, that is.”

“Hmm,” Harry said, looking out the window at the party going on outside. “Dad wanted us to move. He got the position as a lightkeeper since his Dad died, so we moved down here and on vacation in the Philippines a few years later, he met Jasmine.”

Y/N smiled. “I love that.”

“Yeah.” Harry let that word hang in the air between them for a few seconds. She looked down at him. “Anyway,” Harry got up from the bed, running his hands through his hair. “We need to figure out what we should do. When did we meet?”

A little taken aback by his sudden urge for them to establish their relationship, Y/N stood just glancing at him for a moment. Though she had no idea where to start, she thought nailing down location could be key first. “Have you been to Hampshire?”

“No.”

“Then, to keep some truth in there, we say we met in Newquay since it’s in Cornwall, ‘cause I’ve been there with my family a few years back. We met…” She narrowed her eyes, trying to think of an appropriate time.

“Last summer?” Harry suggested.

“And we’ve been talking on and off since.”

He nodded. “Didn’t get serious till April, since then we’ve kind of been seeing each other.”

Seeing how eager they were at building their backstory, Y/N smiled a little. She remembered something he’d mentioned earlier. “It wasn’t till the Exeter trip in May that we made it official,” she went on. “Did you actually go to Exeter? Do you have the hotel you stayed in?”

“I did and yes.”

“Right, we’ll use that if people ask us about where we stayed while there.” She brought her hand to her chin, looking out the window as she thought for a moment. “What did we do on our trip to Exeter? What kind of activities would two adults in a relationship be doing in Exeter?”

The room fell quiet. Harry cleared his throat. When Y/N turned around, he was scratching at his neck again, looking at the ground. “I mean…” There was a pause. “They do… Do…” Another pause. “New sightseeing.”

“Yeah,” Y/N said, dragging it out as she put her hands on her hips. “I suppose they do. What kind of sightseeing would we be doing?”

He seemed to be caught off guard by that, swallowing thickly. Y/N noticed a slight flare to his cheeks. “Dunno… Depends o-on what you’d wanna do.”

“What you mean?”

“What you’d be up for that early in the relationship.”

“Oh, I would be up for anything.”

Harry looked up at her, wide-eyed. “Any… anything?”

“Yeah, I want to experience everything.”

A whispered, “Everything,” left Harry’s lips.

“Think we’d spend a lot of time sightseeing, especially if we were in a town where there’s loads of places to do it.”

Harry just looked at her.

“Okay,” Y/N smiled, leaning against the desk. “So, we met in Newquay last summer. Where?”

“Oh, uhm-“ Harry’s voice broke towards the end, he cleared his throat quickly. “The beach.”

“Classic. Were we with friends?”

“No.”

“Even better.”

“Neither family knew till around the Exeter trip that we were together?”

“You play off what you’ve told Jessa and Gracie, I’ll say my family knows, but I didn’t tell them till I left just now for St Ives.”

“Why not?”

She waved it off. “Overprotective parents.”

“Okay, uhm…” He looked out the window behind her as he thought for a bit. “How did we start talking on that beach in Newquay?”

Y/N cocked her head to the side, allowing herself time to come up with something good. “I could’ve come up to you and just asked your name, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, alright.”

“I mean this in the least disrespectful way possible, but you seem very shy, no idea if that’s your kind of move.”

He smiled a little. “Shy or not, don’t think I would’ve had the courage to walk up and ask for your name and number.”

She narrowed her eyes a little at him, unsure how to interpret that. But Harry didn’t let her dwell on it for long.

He kneaded his palm with the thumb of his other hand, averted his eyes from hers as he hid his face in the little shadow the room provided. “But yeah, I… I like my own company, I guess.”

“Sorry, daft of me to just put it like that.”

“No, you’re completely right. We’ll go with you coming up to me.” He looked down at his hand. “Why were you in Newquay then? And why was I?”

“I was there with family, but I went to the beach alone that day.”

He nodded a little. “I’ll say it was a lads trip then.”

She smiled at him, feeling herself let out a small sigh of relief. They were getting a pretty good overview of the beginning of their supposed relationship. “And we went on a date in Newquay?”

Harry nodded just as the phone in his pocket started ringing. He sighed, reaching for it with a slight tremor to his hand. He dragged it out and pressed a button before turning back to Y/N.

“Aren’t you gonna answer it?”

“No, no one’s calling.”

“Then-“

She stopped as it rang again. Harry groaned and brought it up to his upper arm before checking it again, sighing as he gestured at the door.

“Need to go do something,” he said.

“Oh.”

He stepped out of the room and disappeared from view, but a second later he poked his head through the doorframe to look back at her.

“You’re not coming?”

That got her moving. She followed him downstairs and back into the kitchen. He opened the fridge, bringing a cartoon of milk out and putting it on the counter before reaching for the cupboard behind Y/N.

A hushed, “Sorry,” left his lips and he was quick to step away from her after retrieving the glass. He poured himself some milk and then chugged the glass. Y/N had just thought it was him getting a sudden urge to have a glass of milk, but as he started pouring himself another glass, she debunked that thought very quickly. She watched him till the second glass was down, not saying a word as she didn’t really know what to say to that. Did he just love milk? And why did they have to stop mid-conversation for him to have two glasses?

He looked at her and when he caught her staring, he let a breathy chuckle leave his lips before glancing at the milk carton again. “Sorry about that. It helps my blood sugar.”

Y/N furrowed her brows some. “Pardon?”

Harry turned his body so his right side was facing her, dragging the arm of his tee shirt up till his shoulders. A white patch was attached to his skin, a bit larger than a fifty pence coin, round and standing in soft contrast to his tanned skin. Y/N stared at it for a few seconds before meeting Harry’s eyes again, not knowing what to make of what he was showing her.

“Diabetic.”

She didn’t know what to say to that.

“Type 1. Had it for…” He trailed off as he thought. “About 12 years now. I think. Time’s a social construct.”

“And milk helps when your blood sugar is low?”

“Yeah, that alarm is to tell me my blood sugar’s getting low or too high. It doesn’t happen all the time, by the way. You’ve just caught me when I haven’t eaten in a bit and my blood sugar’s been low.”

“So, what’s that white thing got to do with you being a diabetic?”

“A needle’s attached to the sensor which constantly checks my blood sugar, and that’s connected to an app on my phone, yeah? So it sends signals when the blood sugar’s extra low or high… Makes sense?”

“Ahh,” Y/N said, nodding. “Got it. I think.”

Harry poured himself another glass before putting the milk back in the fridge. “Suppose I should’ve told you earlier, it’s a pretty big part of my life.” He laughed a bit as if to make light of the situation, but Y/N only shook her head.

“Just ‘cause we’re fake dating doesn’t mean you have to tell me things about yourself that you don’t want strangers to know.”

He held onto his glass of milk, only looking at Y/N for a few seconds as if he was thinking about something. He shook his head a little, bringing his glass to his lips. “I’m not ashamed of it, if that’s what you think.”

“There you are!” Jessa walked through the front door, grinning just as widely as always upon seeing Y/N. She practically skipped into the kitchen and up to the small round table positioned in the middle of it. “Have you introduced her to everyone, Harry?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, people are absolutely dying to meet the woman who has captured our Harry’s heart.” Jessa put a hand over her own heart, looking at Harry with so much love it made Y/N almost tear up a bit. “Everyone’s so happy for the two of you.”

Harry and Y/N looked at one another. Harry’s expression was blank as if he was waiting for her reaction to Jessa’s excited exclamation, so when Y/N scrunched up her nose and smiled at Harry, the dimples in Harry’s cheeks started to show some as well. They didn’t know what else to do or say to Jessa’s statement, but judging by her reaction, it was the correct response. Jessa gave the two an applause no one asked for, but she looked so incredibly happy Y/N didn’t mind.

“Y/N, you have to come to the beach with us on Monday!”

“Nay,” Harry sighed, opening one of the drawers by the counter he was leaning against and pulling out a bar of Dairy Milk. He got himself a row before placing the bar on the counter and then eating his row.

“No, it’ll be amazing. You’re always welcome around here, know that,” Jessa said, that bright beam of hers not once leaving her face once. “Monday we do kamayan on the beach. It’s a summer tradition in the Styles-Flores family!”

Harry looked at Y/N again, swallowing the last of his chocolate. “You don’t… You don’t have to come if you don’t wanna.”

Y/N looked back at him, her smile still present. “Of course I’ll come.”

“Yay!” Jessa clapped again. “I’ll go tell everyone then, they’re going to be ecstatic.” She jogged out the front door then, walking over to a small group of people and saying something that Y/N guessed was the news of Y/N coming along to the beach.

Harry downed the rest of his milk before putting the glass in the dishwasher.

“I almost feel a little bad that we’re going to break up at the end of summer now,” Y/N said, speaking so lowly that only the two of them would hear.

Harry glanced out the window of the kitchen at Jessa. “She’ll be devastated, but I just need to take her on a little road trip and play her some music and she’ll be fine.”

Y/N smiled. “Both Jessa and Gracie love it when you take them on a road trip and they get to listen to music.”

Harry chuckled some. “Guess they do.”

The both of them looked out the window at the garden where both sides of the Flores-Styles family were mingling. Jessa walked up to Harry’s lolo, grinning like always, and Y/N thought she might’ve seen Jessa’s Dad smile back at her. It was hard not to when the woman genuinely glowed and brought happiness with her wherever she went.

Y/N turned back to Harry again, catching him looking into the living room where his aunties were sitting on the sofa he and Y/N had been sitting in earlier. They had his abandoned plate of food between them, eating while they talked about some gossip Y/N couldn’t and wasn’t interested to keep up with.

“Harry,” she said, voice low. He looked back at her. “About… About the diabetes, I-“

“-No, I…” He averted his eyes to the tiled floor of the kitchen, a small furrow appearing between his brows. “Let’s not talk about that right now. My blood sugar will get better in a bit, I’ll stop shaking. We can go outside and chat with some of me family members.”

“You’re shaking?”

He let out what sounded like a short chuckle, holding his hand up so she could see that he was indeed trembling. “Hypoglycaemia. It’s normal.”

“Ahh, yeah, I’ve heard of that.”

“Anyway,” he said. “Let’s not think about that now.”

Y/N inhaled hugely, pushing away from the counter to look at Harry without turning her face. “Shall we mingle like couples do, boyfriend?”

He leaned his head back against the cupboard, running a hand over his face before taking his sunglasses off the top of his head and putting them back on. “We shall, girlfriend.”

He gestured with his arm for her to walk first and she did, waiting for him to appear beside her once they were outside. He walked her over to where Jessa was standing beside her Dad, saying something to a taller man who stood beside her. His grey hair was slicked back, the shirt and trousers he wore looked worn-down and old, but they looked good on him still.

“Uncle Tom,” Harry said as they approached, a smile on his face as the tall man glanced over. “Hi.”

“Harry! Heard someone say you were here and I saw your car, thought you were hiding from me.” Uncle Tom gave Harry a big hug, patting him on the back a few times before they stepped away from one another. Tom’s eyes settled on Y/N, a smirk on his face as his eyes darted between Harry and her a few times. “So, this is the infamous Y/N.”

“Oh,” Y/N said, waving her hand some as if to dismiss the ‘infamous’ part. “You lot make me feel like a celebrity.”

“Well, when you make our Harry happy, in our eyes you are a celebrity.” Uncle Tom opened his arms, bringing Y/N into a hug she returned quickly, wrapping her arms around him. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d hugged someone. “I’m Tom, Harry’s uncle,” Tom said as he pulled away from Y/N. “I’m not really his uncle, just very good friends with his late Dad.”

“I’ve called him Uncle Tom since forever.”

“It’s very nice to finally meet you, Tom,” Y/N said.

“And I hear,” Tom started, pointing at Jessa over his shoulder, who was still chatting to Harry’s lolo. “You’re coming to the beach next week.”

Harry made a noise. Y/N wasn’t sure what it meant. “Jessa forced her.”

“No, no. Don’t listen to him.” Y/N looked at Harry as he looked at her. She gave him a smile before looking back at Tom. “I want to come; it’ll be an honour.”

“Cheers. It’s one of those trips we take around the beginning of summer every year. The entire family comes, we bring food, and we spend most of the day there. It’s not an extravagant tradition, but it’s ours.”

“It sounds so nice.”

Tom smiled. “The way you’re dressed and judging by how polite and well put-together you are-“

“-Uncle-“

“-I would’ve thought a casual beach day with poor folks down south would sound dull?”

The way Tom said it wasn’t degrading, and Y/N could tell by his smile that he wasn’t saying it to challenge her in any way. With one hand dangling at his side and the other placed on Harry’s shoulder, he looked quite relaxed and not at all like he was trying to interrogate or make Y/N feel inferior. No, he was just wondering. Which was fair, because it seemed a lot of the people in Harry’s family and in St Ives had picked up on the fact Y/N had grown up in a very posh household. The question of why her wealth was so important for them to point out was something she didn’t bother thinking about. It didn’t define her any longer.

“Not dull at all. Maybe even a little refreshing. Don’t get to go to the beach much since I don’t live near one.”

Harry nodded. “We, uh… We actually met when the lads and I visited Newquay last summer. On the beach.”

“You mean you met on the beach?” Tom asked and Harry nodded. Tom glanced at Y/N again. “And you like the beach, Y/N?”

“Love it.”

“Maybe you should move here then. From what I’ve heard, Harry’s left the solitude of his lighthouse a few times already to be with you in town.”

“Only twice,” Harry mumbled, but Tom ignored him.

Y/N only laughed. “A bit too early to think about that. We’ve only been seeing each other for two months now.”

“Nah, this family moves fast, darling. If we fall in love, we fall hard, and we fall fast. Why measure love in hours spent together when it could be measured by the quality of that time, instead of the quantity?” Tom said, patting Harry’s shoulder. “Ain’t that right, mate?”

“No comment.”

Tom grinned. “Alright, alright.”

“I’m gonna take Y/N for a stroll so she can meet the rest, just wanted her to meet you first,” Harry said, looking to Y/N for some kind of confirmation, that she was okay with this.

“Yeah,” she said.

“I’ll see you two Monday, then,” Tom smiled, giving both a wink. He had the kind of old Dad charm that made you feel warm and safe, Y/N understood why Harry considered him family even though he wasn’t.

“Bye.”

“Good to meet you, Tom.”

“And you, Y/N.”

The rest of the afternoon went by very quickly. Harry introduced her to some other friends and family members, and though they asked them questions about their relationship, the two seemed to have already gotten a pretty good overview of what it was. That little chat in Harry’s childhood room had done wonders to get their head in the game. That, and the fact their relationship was so new meant there wasn’t a lot to tell, so some questions the two simply did not know because it wouldn’t be realistic for them to have experienced or thought about that yet.

At one point, Grace asked Y/N to help with her new headband. She didn’t know how to wear it in her hair, and she needed help. The two sat down on a bench beside the barn – which, by the sound and smell of it, housed hens – and Y/N helped Grace. The red and pink looked gorgeous in her black hair, and when she turned around and looked at Y/N once she was done putting it in, she grinned from ear to ear and asked, “Do I look pretty?” Y/N didn’t even have to hesitate before telling Grace she looked absolutely beautiful. The seven-year-old blushed and ran over to Harry who was walking over to them. He picked her up, throwing her small form in the air before bringing her to his hip again.

“Ready to leave?” Harry asked and Y/N said she was.

They said goodbye to everyone, and Jessa brought Y/N’s hand to her lips, kissing it quickly and giving it a warm pat before she let her walk off. Jessa, Grace, Uncle Tom, and Lolo stood by the white tree gate as Y/N and Harry left, watching the mellow yellow Ford van drive off down the gravel road. The sun was about to set, causing the sky overhead to bathe in a soothing orange and purple colour that promised sunny weather the following day. The drive back to the Inn was short and quiet. The silence lingered somewhere between exhaustion and awkwardness, and though Y/N wanted to say something to erase the tension, she couldn’t bring herself to.

When the town started appearing a bit more around them, she felt the phone in her purse vibrate. First she didn’t know what was happening, but then her heart suddenly dropped. She felt hot all over, the wind from the open window didn’t do anything to cool her down. Swallowing thickly, she tried to ignore it. But it was hard when the purse was in her lap. Harder when it was so loud. Even harder when her heartbeat sounded in her ears. As if the quiet in the car hadn’t been loud enough, the sound of her phone vibrating and her not picking up, was louder. There were only three people it could be. She didn’t want to bring her phone out to see which one it was. The ringing stopped after an excruciating 30 seconds, and Y/N closed her eyes. Just ignore it. Just ignore them. It’ll be fine. Ignore it and it’ll go away.

They arrived a minute later, and Y/N was grateful Harry didn’t ask about the phone incident. She stepped out and around the car, the smell of the sea surrounding them once again.

“The beach thing on Monday,” Harry said as Y/N stood by the entrance to the Inn, his window rolled down and orange sunglasses resting in his messy hair. “It’s on Porthmeor Beach. Send me a text when you start walking from here and I’ll walk in your direction, I’ll meet you, yeah?”

She smiled. “Thank you.”

He shook his head once to dismiss that. “Goodnight, Y/N. Cheers for today.”

“It was fun.” She gave him a little wave. “Goodnight.”

He started his engine as Y/N walked inside. Bessie stood by the reception desk sorting through some documents. When Y/N glanced in her direction and met her eyes, the innkeeper quickly glanced away, but the tiny smile on her face gave her away. Once in her room, Y/N checked who had called. It had been a few minutes now and they wouldn’t care to call again tonight, she thought. The ‘Mum’ on her locked screen made something inside her chest ache. She opened her phone to remove the notification but then closed it again a second later. Her Mum had called. After days of no one reaching out, of no one asking her where she was, of no one caring. Her Mum had called.

Changing out of her dress and removing her make-up, Y/N didn’t allow herself to think about anything. The only thing she allowed herself to focus on was a blackness. If you focused on nothing, nothing would hurt you. She didn’t want hurt. She’d had enough of that.

NEXT UPDATE: Sunday, 16 August, 9PM GMT!

A HUGEEE thank you to my amazing and beautiful beta readers! 🌊 @aileenacoustic 🌊 @bopbopstyles 🌊 @fromyourstrulyh 🌊 @harrys-creature 🌊 @honeydearly 🌊 @summerfeelng 🌊 @withallthelove-a 🌊

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles fic #het fic #1dff #:DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD #PLS DO COME CHAT ONCE YOU'RE DONE READING MWWAH

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smndragon · 3 years

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henlo!! i hope you're doing well! i'd love to get a reading from you, if that's okay! my placements are: sag sun (12h), aries moon (3h) and cap rising! thank you so much for this!

I swear I looked at my inbox and took a second for start the tv and get a drink of water. This is gonna be a long night, I don't think there are meant full readings left though. I'm doing very well thanks for that!

Hm, Sagittarius sun, Aries moon, and Capricorn ascendant.

The Aries moon is the loudest competing with the Capricorn ascendant. Possible glasses I feel from the Aries moon or bad eyesight. The Capricorn could cause you to cut your hair short since I feel some of them really like doing that either their chaotic energy at times✂️💇🏽‍♀️ (I always try to be careful when clicking edit ln these drafts cause it sucks to accidentally delete it ughh) SONG RECOMMENDATION LOVELIES creep by Radiohead! I'm back after getting an ice pop AND OMG IVE BEEN ANSWERING THINGS MY SHEETS ARE WARM AND I HAVEN'T OPENED IT HOW DID I FORGET. Anyways, I wondered if your profile was really you so I looked closer and now I regret I cause the characteristics will be thrown off later on sorry.

Gotta make a new paragraph that was long💀 the Aries moon is hard to see, the connection has been ruined. FOCUS I'm back okay let's go! The Aries Manor is large. I arrived immediately at gates. The place feels like a castle, all of a sudden I'm in a dress on the ground as if this is some kind of lost girl story. My expression looks really confused. As if they're asking "where tf am I" a tall figure comes down the stairs, dressed in a red dress as if her wedding with the world's biggest asshole had was cancelled. Red lips and styled back red hair, their eyes are sharp at the ends and wide in the middle (can't explain eyes lol) they offer their hand to me as if I look like the dumbest bitch at the ball lol. Long and manicured nails. Shes thin and lanky but beautiful non the less. (For all of you insecure people reading to this far I'm watching you😤 love yourself more please you deserve it) she has a butler on standby. "So what are you doing here?" A pretty basic question but I honestly feel so dumb rn lol. They act as if the quest never happened and look around for something in the room turning their head. "You're not Gemini/Sagittarius are you?" A skeptical look on their face. It's hard to interpret what they said. "Alright, maybe you're not here to pull a prank on me if you are." They grab a cigarette from a tin holder a worker offers them already lit and breathing rolls of smoke. "If not them, what are you doing here shorty?" Taking another hit, the cigarette finished by then. Time is going by faster than I thought. "Alright" I hear the click of the case in their hand closing. "If you aren't here for me then I know who, follow me." They get up to lead me up the stares. Hesitantly following after. Aura is red and flaming. Possible placements are the lover stomach or I feel the manor and small parts around it take yo the whole chest. You may have problems with heartburn, chest pains, or issues with the lungs. We leave the lavished hall. I feel there's somewhere you wanna go someday. Possible problems in class as a kid, too passionate or anger issues. Nowadays may be shy or hesitant. Aries people often are fiery, but we also turn more shy getting older.

I see a door down the hall opening it, the Aries moon is gone by now. I feel you have Gemini placements possibly tricksters with your Sagittarius sun. I see the Sagittarius sitting down on something soft and plush. Reading some kind of novel or paper. They seem very intimidating until seeing me. "Ah! Are you here to talk to me? I've been needing company!" Getting up to walk towards me. "Did Aries not come with you? They always avoid me." I see their earrings shine with the night sky. "I mean I did pull that paint trick a bit ago but to mean c'mon who wouldn't?" She once had an elegant purple dress, to match her heavy eyelashes and almost violet blue eyes. But I look into myself now. They are jokes on how we look the same now and they bet she asked me if I was them. They turn to me again after looking off for a bit. You the host may have issues with the contact under pressure or when holding conversations. They do the same thing the Aries does. They may go deeper than shown to me, lifetimes of being stuck with each other in the same hosts. May have liked each other in the beginning but something changed this. Possible placement now is the left side of the chest. Aura color is purple and starry blue. I'm no longer in contact.

I feel the Capricorn ascendant is the puzzle piece to what happened. Change that thought it's Gemini. It's not just you body but in others they've known each other I'm the placements. Possibly a love triangle turned into hate or something. The Aries moon once loved your Sagittarius, they still do. It's just things have changed and Gemini and Sagittarius are better together to Aries. This doesn't seem right. Idk how you could fix this maybe we'll see later. This imbalance could be the cause of some mental issues or your own love problems, both signs aren't as good with such things. They don't know how cause they haven't found true love yet. At least not reciprocated well enough.

The Capricorn ascendant lives in the middle of your chest in-between the abdomen and stomach proportions. This doesn't make sense to me since I believe the stairs were here. I get there, the Capricorn is sitting on the steps sketching. The Capricorn is more boyish. Dressed in a shorter green dress. Cut to the shoulders blonde hair with brown and green mixed eyes. A golden chain on the neck matching the sprinkle of gold on the cheeks and in the eyes. They look at me weirdly. As if they're appalled I ended up here. "Gonna sit or not?" They point to next to them on the steps. I sit down looking at the sketch set down for a second resting in their palms. "You can feel it too can't you?" Clearly they're talking of the energy between the other two zodiacs. "They've been like this for a long time-" "I know." I finally talk I believe after this whole reading. They look down at their drawing. "I'm pretty new here so yeah. I got it fast" they catch me looking at the pencil stokes. "You saw it before. Think it was good?" They look at me again head still down low. "yeah" I nod. "Great!" They pull me up. "Let's get away from here yeah?" There's fields outside the mansion. Green even in the night. Rolling down the grounds and getting grass covered stains and markings. This Capricorn is alive.

Characteristics: dark hair, wider eyes due to the Capricorn or Aries moon, I feel this creates bigger eyes at times. Possibly markings on the hands or arms. Height is fairly average or just an inch shy of it. Possibly have posters in your room. You may definitely need that cup of morning coffee. Strongly built with thicker bones. Took some scrapes and scratches as a kid lol.👷gap in the middle of the teeth. Your nose may scrunch and get bunny lines. Possible love for Halloween. Nice nails but they get broken easily do you have to cut them short. Struggled with self image issue younger. Causing some mental health problems. You aren't an angry person but if boundaries are crossed there's gonna be a problem.

Soulmates/ future relationship: (ignore if already in one unless curious) I feel Virgo influence here. Not the tallest person but also yes? One of those two either really tall ppl or not at all. You guys will try and keep up with each other a lot. Trying to manage schedules and make little completions on who cna do something better or first. On the couch watching movies and sharing food, okay cringey couple thing coming up. You guys may feed each other like it's normal and your friend just stare at you like "wtf??" They love our two though lol they'll get used to it. Possible meeting at s grocery store when in the bread isle or nearby. May have you call them lieutenant or some strengthening name at times or they won't even move to do what you want them to.

Other zodiac influence in your life through people: Gemini moon, Virgo moon, sun, ascendant. Possible same mercury and venus? Random. Cancer mars, Neptune.

Health/future: watch for dogs (i love dogs but I see some trouble here) cars when walking on roads or streets. Just saying duck and lay attention for the next 2 months when in a dangerous working areas or smth.

FINALLY DONE SORRY THIS TOOK LONG

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ofclaires · 3 years

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IV. CLAIRE WALSH

PAST SELF PARAS: april 2020 / september 2020 / march 2021.

hi, before the read more i just wanted to say THANK YOU. getting to play claire has been absolutely a treat, a challenge, and genuinely, a huge part of my life for the past year and a half or so. it occurred to me when writing this and looking back at other things i’ve written for claire that i didn’t just feel like i was writing this for myself or for claire ; but i was writing it for you guys, too ! that has been one of the most special things about gallagher for me is the writing community that i feel like we built, taking such a huge investment in our characters and everyone else’s writing. i feel like i’m writing with and for some of my best friends. i also feel like i’ve grown so much ( ok, i actually don’t just feel like it, i can look back at those three paras and SEE how my writing has improved. ) i am so blessed to have gotten to write claire with all of you and to share her story, i feel like she has been so fucking beloved & it’s given her so much life. i am so proud of her and it’s really bittersweet that i’m finally saying goodbye to her as well. so, thank you all so, so much, gallagher has been a writing experience like no other for me & i love you all !

trigger warnings : domestic violence & abuse, death

PART ONE: CHILDHOOD.

The trailer that Claire spent the back half of her childhood in never felt like home. Maybe because trailers are made to be temporary, or the fact that if she accepted that this was where she belonged, she’d have to give up hope.

It’s normal Maggie Walsh to be out late, Claire’s usually cleaned up the kitchen and tucked herself into bed by the time her mother comes in the door – but she’s not sleeping. She’s always had trouble with that, brain bouncing around from one thought to the next until eventually she hears the creak of the door.

Her mom’s home.

She hears the usual stumbling, the clatter of dishes falling from where she’d neatly placed them on the drying rack. Maggie’s drunk, Claire’s sure of that. Ten years old and she knows what it means to be so drunk that you can hardly see straight, that the words you say under the influence are a different reflection from the person that you really are. She inhales deeply and crawls out from under the covers to check on her. Ten years old and she knows the steps: Help her take her makeup off, make sure she sleeps on her side, glass of water on the bedside table, trash can on the floor. Maggie is only twenty-six years old herself now, not done with her childhood by the time that Claire was born, not ready to be a mother. Claire’s had to figure it out most of it herself.

“Mom?” Claire knocks on the door lightly, plastic cup full of water already in hand.

“Don’t – don’t come in!” Maggie sputters, and Claire’s confused. She defies her request and opens the bedroom door the rest of the way. When she sees her mom, she drops the cup on the floor, small hands curling into fists.

“What happened? Who did that to you?”

“I told you not to come in here, Claire,” Maggie repeats, but Claire has always been on to disregard commands. She learns at a young age that authority only means older than you or some assigned title, not that they know best.

“Who did that? Why?” She repeats her questions. Despite being mature for her age, it’s hard for Claire to wrap her head around the black eye obscuring Maggie’s face, and the swelling on her cheek.

“It doesn’t matter,” Maggie sighs, dejected as she flops down on the bed. Even in her state, she knows that there’s not much use telling Claire to back off or go away once she’s decided that she’s not going to. Her little girl is a spitfire, strangely enough reminds Maggie a lot of her own mom, like living with a miniature version of her. Maybe that’s why Claire wins most arguments. “Come here.”

Claire walks closer to the bed, kicking the cup aside on her way for no reason other than to kick something. She crawls into bed next to her mom and looks up at her, waiting for more of an explanation or literally anything but silence.

“I don’t know why I keep looking for a happy ending. I leave you home alone, I come home like this...not helping either of us,” Maggie presses a kiss to the top of Claire’s head, runs her fingers through her daughter’s hair. It’s so soft and Claire is so little, she can’t help but look at the spilled cup on the floor with a pang of guilt. “I’m sorry,” she adds, voice choked up and words a little slurred. Tears squeeze out of the corners of her eyes when she closes them, hugging her daughter closer, “I’ve blamed you for my fucked up life for so long...that’s not fair.”

Now, Claire is only ten, but those are the kind of words that you remember forever. Still, she smiles. “It doesn’t have to stay fucked up. It can get better,” a childish spark of optimism in her heart that hasn’t yet been put out. It makes Maggie smile back though, kissing her daughter on the top of her head yet again.

“I like that,” she says, and they fall asleep curled up beside each other. Claire sleeps soundly, thinking that it’s possible. Things really could get better, and for a while, it seems like there really is a sort of shift. Maggie starts cooking, cleaning again, and she doesn’t even stay out so late. That’s when she meets Martin.

He seems better than the rest. Until he isn’t.

But Claire does her job as her mother’s protector, just as she’s been doing all of her life, and it’s that event that jumpstarts the rest of everything that happens next.

PART TWO: GRADUATION.

Claire’s come to the formal conclusion that graduation ceremonies are a waste of time. There’s all this build up, everyone’s so excited, and then you have to sit around and wait for your name to be called so you can spend two seconds walking across a stage while everyone claps. She would have skipped it entirely if her mother hadn’t already come up, and if she knew that people were going to insist. The small talk afterward is even more agonizing than the ceremony itself. It is sort of painful saying goodbye to everyone, and it occurs to Claire that there’s more people that she’s going to miss than she ever expected.

“Callum and his mother are here,” Maggie points out.

“And?” Claire rolls her eyes. Seeing Callum again to begin with had brought up a lot of old feelings, and generally, even though they’d resolved things, she tries to avoid him whenever possible.

“Well, it’s probably weird if we don’t say hello, at least, right? I’m going to say hello,” Maggie interjects, “he’s such a sweet boy.”

Claire’s eyebrows rise on her forehead as she crosses her arms over her chest. “Go ahead then,” she sighs, “I’ll wait right here.”

“Claire,” Maggie draws out her name with a withering stare, but Maggie has never been able to establish that sort of authority with Claire that would prompt any inclination of obedience, so Claire just shrugs her shoulders, unimpressed. She’s not going to budge. “Fine, I’ll be right back.”

Claire’s done her best to put the chapter of their life that includes Martin out of her mind when rekindling things with her mother, and she certainly doesn’t want to stand around making small talk with his other ex-wife, trying not to look at Callum with his matching jawline, trying not to remember everything she hates. It all comes back in a flash. The horrible cracking sound that her mother’s head had made when it connected with the wall, the blood on the marble floor. They say you don’t remember trauma properly, that your memory doesn’t work quite right, but she will never forget the way her fist connected with Martin’s face : like a puzzle piece, like it BELONGED there, and she’d done it over and over again until she heard sirens.

And yet, Claire can’t deny that it’s a part of her life that got her here, where she is today. She thinks life is shitty and random, and that not everything has to happen ‘for a reason.’ Still, she’ll catch Kass’s eye across the room and see her smiling so brightly that it seems impossible not to believe in something. Claire can’t help herself anyway – she smiles back. No one has ever been able to produce Claire’s smile in its truest form the way Kass has, unashamed of being so happy to look at someone. She once thought the idea of looking at a person and seeing your whole future was ridiculous, that you’d have to be stupid to put that much of yourself into someone, but it isn’t like that at all. All of it was unintentional, like by the time she realized it, Kass was already everything. And she feels so safe with that thought that she doesn’t mind at all.

“Am I interrupting something?” A figure steps in front of her, cutting off her line of sight. She’s not really fond of being snuck up on, so she opens her mouth to say something snarky when she’s met with the gaze of Lisanna Harlin, one of last year’s mentors. Her daughter, Elisa, is there, but she’s not graduating, so Claire’s confused by Lisanna’s presence.

“No, Ms. Harlin,” Claire says, though there’s a spark of indignation in her words that practically goes hand in hand whenever an adult commands authority.

“Lisanna is fine,” she says with a light laugh, like she’s amused Claire’s greeted her this way.

“Can I...help you with something?” Claire asks, mostly curious about how long this interaction has gone on. While she’s friendly with Elisa, she was Kass’s roommate last year, they’re not exceedingly close, so she’s not sure what else Lisanna would have to say to her other than maybe a polite hello.

It’s more than a polite hello. Lisanna Harlin works for Lexon Corp in Durham, North Carolina, a private military company that provides armed guards, bodyguards, and guns for hire. They’re the sort of place that would be looking for the best of the best in combat, and they have a bit of a reputation for hiring Gallagher girls. Claire had given up on the job search months ago since the video went out, in fact, she’s had a job lined up for graduation already : at a boxing gym in D.C., where the scene isn’t too bad. It was suited to her, but not exactly the sort of thing that her Gallagher education had prepared her for. Lexon Corp? Everything her rigorous love of January boot camps were tailored to. And they want to interview her.

A month later, Claire’s sitting on the cusp of a completely fresh start. It wasn’t easy to backtrack on the plans that she and Kass had made together, knowing how much was changing for the both of them, it had been nice to have the stable idea of an apartment together on the horizon. Now, she’s a four hour drive away, and she goes home to her one-bedroom studio in Durham after rigorous training throughout the day. But she’s grateful for the chance to work her way back into the field, and she can remember what Lisanna said to her when they gave her the offer.

“We’re aware that with your history that we’re taking a chance on you, Claire,” Lisanna said. “But we think the reasons that made other agencies look past you are exactly what makes you an asset. You care about your jobs, the people that you’re involved in, and you’d have a partner’s back until the bitter end. You listen to your intuition, trust your gut...and above all else, you have follow-through. I’m excited to be able to offer this position. Don’t prove me wrong.”

Claire swears that she won’t.

PART THREE: KIPTYN.

Kiptyn isn’t supposed to be in the left hall closet.

In fact, he’s not supposed to be awake at all. But who can sleep the night before their birthday anyway? Sure, he’ll be thirteen, and that’s probably old enough to have gotten over the magic of it all, but...he’d still been lying awake with excitement, the anticipation keeping his eyes open for hours on end. Well, that and the video game he’d been playing under the covers, but he’d obviously only been playing it because he couldn’t sleep in the first place.

Then he started thinking about the left hall closet and the conversation that they had at dinner the other night. In Kiptyn’s defense, Dahvia – his younger sister – had totally started it and he was an innocent bystander. After all, Kiptyn’s old enough to know that they don’t bring up Claire to mom, because it just puts her in a mood and then you can forget about doing anything else for the rest of the evening. But Dahvia’s ten, practically a baby, and she doesn’t know any better.

“Hey, mom? What sort of accident did Claire die in? Nina asked me at recess and I didn’t know,” Dahvia pipes up, before she’s even properly sat down. Kip visibly cringes. He’s older, wiser, knows this won’t go well. Still, he dares to look at his mom’s face and he notes the faraway look in her eye, like she seems to experience a bunch of things at once. Kip notices how even though her eyes are glassy, she doesn’t cry. Though sometimes, their mom will just cry randomly, like two weeks ago when he asked for help with his Spanish homework and she couldn’t even help him finish the first worksheet.

“It was a car accident,” she says stiffly, “eat your dinner.”

Kiptyn kicks his sister under the table and flashes her a look that says : Great. Look what you did, ruined dinner. Dahvia sticks her tongue out at him.

So, he knows that he’s not supposed to be in the left hall closet because he could ruin many more dinners, but he’s here anyway. He’s been thinking about it ever since they sat in silence for the rest of that half hour, and he’s come to the conclusion – his mother was lying. Because all sorts of things make their mother cry, like a bowl of mac and cheese or Spanish class, or motorcycles, and she won’t let Kiptyn take boxing lessons though his friend Robert is and he thought it sounded really cool, but she doesn’t have any problem with cars or driving, and also, she’s never told them a single thing about Claire except that. They aren’t allowed to know anything about her, especially not anything true, so Kiptyn is pretty sure that’s a lie. There’s just something just weird about it.

So, in the middle of the night before his thirteenth birthday, he looks up a video on how you pick locks and then he figures it out on the door of the left hall closet. He’s there for at least forty-five minutes, practically ready to give it all up when he hears the clicking sound, and then it opens. His first thought is : Woah. This is a load of junk.

And he’s right. There’s boxes upon boxes of paperwork, old clothes. Some things start to click, like when he finds a pair of worn boxing gloves with Claire’s initials embroidered on them. His favorite thing that he finds is the fattest scrapbook he’s ever seen – his mom always makes them, there’s one for every year of his life. Dahvia’s too, they love looking at them. The cover of this one, though, says Italy 2021. It’s all pictures of his mom and Claire, probably in their early twenties. Kiptyn mostly notices his mother’s smile, how he’s only seen her look like that a couple times in his life and yet it looks so EASY here, like she wears it all the time. It’s so strange to him. He sets the scrapbook down and crawls toward the back of the closet. His eyes land on two leather folders with gold embroidery, and he opens up the first one. In big letters at the top : GALLAGHER ACADEMY.

It’s a diploma.

This certifies that Kassandra Sutton has satisfactorily completed the…

“What are you doing?”

Kiptyn yells out like a child, not having heard anyone creeping up on him. He claps his hand over his mouth as if to shush himself. “The door was open! I don’t know how, but I just...noticed it was open and wanted to make sure that...no one was stealing your stuff!” he grins sheepishly, hoping that he can ride on the high of his birthday week to get him out of this one.

“It was just...open?” his mother looks down at him with raised eyebrows before brandishing a twisted paper clip between two fingers. The one that had formerly been stuck in the door. His guilty expression widens, he can’t help it.

“Okay, I might know how it opened,” Kiptyn admits. He hesitates for a moment, before he realizes that he’s ALREADY in trouble, he might as well just come out with it and pray to the birthday gods. He holds up the diploma with her name on it : “What’s Gallagher Academy?”

Kass’s sigh is heavy and deep, accompanied by the amount of exhaustion that comes with raising two curious kids by herself. After Claire died, she moved her family to London to be closer to their aunt and away from everything that reminded her of Claire. She never told her children why. From hiding that world from them, the world that took so many people from her : her father, her ex-girlfriend, and the love of her life. She swore that she would never lose her children to it, too. But Kiptyn looks up at her with wide eyes, desperate to know about his mother and his past, and Kass also knows what it’s like to have part of yourself missing due to family secrets that are being kept from you. He is practically a teenager now. So, she relents.

Kass doesn’t go into all of the details, of course. Just that Gallagher Academy was a school for spies, and that’s where it all started. Kiptyn already knew that his moms met in college, so it’s the spy part that’s most interesting to him. She talks about Claire with a light in her eyes he’s unfamiliar with, how she was one of the best fighters in their year, that she grew up with such a talent in the ring that she probably could’ve gone pro if her life had gone in a different direction. She talks about how they had to part ways after graduation, because Claire got a job in North Carolina and she got a job in Washington, DC, but they made it work, and both got very accustomed to the four hour drive – though it was sometimes closer to three for Claire, because she always drove too fast, even on this big, black motorcycle which Kass swears that she hated. She tells Kiptyn about how they got married, the way she’d almost moved to England for a dream job and that long distance threatened to drive them apart again – until Claire chased her down in the airport with a ring and proposal.

She also talks about how Claire really died : the abridged version. It was an overseas mission where they’d been cornered, and Claire risked her life to save the rest of their team. There were no other casualties, and the information they were able to bring back helped stop the terrorist organization they’d been chasing to end them for good. Kass tells the abridged version for her son, gives Claire a hero’s death. In some ways, it was. She doesn’t mention the ways that Claire was consumed by the case, it was an organization hellbent on killing spies and it likely reminded her of the brotherhood. Kass had been worried about the case the whole time, because it felt like Claire was taking it too personally. In the end, she may have been right : because Claire had let it take her life in order to close it. She also doesn’t mention that such a sacrificial death means that her wife died fighting alone, swinging her fists until her very last breath. But still, she was all alone.

She had no choice but to take her kids as far away from that life as possible.

Kiptyn tries, but he doesn’t really remember Claire. He’d only been three years old when she passed away, and before then, she’d been so consumed by her last case that she was barely present. Still, he thinks she sounds badass.

He falls asleep on his mother’s shoulder that night, looking through the scrapbook of pictures from their trip to Italy in 2021. He’s animated for the first part, pointing out buildings and asking questions, wonders if Claire was sweating in all that leather, but he slowly starts to drift off. He wakes up on the couch the next morning, no trace of the book or any of the other papers he’d hauled out of the closet the night before. He looks at the closet and there’s an extra padlock. Figures.

It comes up in little ways, like a private joke that he has with his mother, like she’ll say something and flash him a secretive smile. He likes that, and he understands that this is a big secret that he has to keep. It doesn’t come up again until his fourteenth birthday the next year, the summer before high school. It’s a strange letter in a manila envelope, sealed with some expensive red wax, his name written in fancy calligraphy. The most attention-grabbing part, however, is not Kiptyn Sutton-Walsh in big cursive letters. It’s the return address :

GALLAGHER ACADEMY.

learn her skills, honor her sword. keep her secrets.

#*#self para

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iwadori · 3 years

Note

hi i wanna try for ur matchup event <33

my name is qhloee its like chloe but spelled like qhloee, i use she/her and id like to be paired with a male character pls

im not rlly sure if im intro or extro im just a mix of both depending on my mood, i dont know my exact height but i think im somewhere near 5'0ft. im usually assigned as group leader in school group activities/projects and i love it. im not rlly the smartest in class but i have okay grades because i dont like studying at all but i do get serious when it comes to school i just listen to the discussion so that i dont have to study. i have a lot of friends but none im close enough to be best friends with. i think im quite carefree but not all the time i can get very serious because i like being responsible. i pull a lot of all nighters but i love sleeping i just procrastinate a lot so i feel tired almost everyday. i cry easily but i dont like being seen crying lol. I rlly like watching horror, thriller, mustery, comedy, psychological, and romance movies. im very quiet but i can get very talkative with the right person, i love cuddling and hugging. the arcade is my go to mall destination and i rlly like taking photos & videos. i often drift to sleep in the middle of the day, i love bubblegum and salted caramel flavored ice cream. my love language is acts of service, quality time, and physical touch. I dont rlly have any current hobbies but i do draw from time to time. im very straightforward sometimes and i like having things go my way so i sometimes get very bossy and serious. i wear glasses because my vision is so extremely bad and i have a resting b face but my friends say its vry different when i smile. im sometimes just sometimes sarcastic and petty depending on the situation. i like helping people with projects and assignments even if i dont get anything in return but ofcourse theres a line i dont cross. i hate getting looked down on so i get very rude but its usually mutual, im nice to people who are nice. I believe i can succeed anything that i want to, i like listening to music and im very forgetful. Even if im confident, i still need some reassurance here and there and i like peace.

i think ive written too much lol

i want a fluff scenario please,,, thank u so much writer～♡

Haikyu scenario event

Word count:500

Genre:minor minor angst,fluff

Apply for the event here

I match you with Kageyama.

Yours and Kageyama’s relationship is like a push and pull between you both, but you always find stable ground in the end. With both of you having ‘straightforward,’ ‘bossy,’ persona’s it can be a handle for the people around however whenever you clash on certain things you always manage to find a compromise in the end. When you and Kageyama first met, he definitely commented you on your short height and other aspects about you. However, you definitely checked him on that and that was when he knew you were the one. He is attracted to your fiery personality, and he thinks you look extremely cute in your glasses.

Kageyama comforting you after you had a bad day,

You heard the door open and you quickly wiped your eyes and blew your nose to hide your tears that you were just having.

“Hey tobio,” you say forcing a smile.

“You’ve been crying,” he says, ignoring your greeting.

“No, I haven’t” you say sniffling again.

Kageyama leaves your room shutting your door, leaving you dumbfounded. You were a bit shocked but didn’t pay much mind to it since you were still upset from your bad day before. You spend the new few hours with Kageyama gone, so you decided to watch a repeat of one of your favourite thriller movies. On one of the scariest parts, Kageyama enters the house at the exact same time making you jump. “Gosh Tobio, you scared me.”

“’Sorry Qhloee” He said putting a bag on the side and taking out his contents “This is for you.” He handed you your favourite brands of salted caramel and bubble gum ice cream, to which you happily took.

“Whats the occasion Tobi?” you asks with a smile on your face, digging into the ice cream.

“Your sad.” he said simply “And when you sad, I need to make you happy so... ice cream?

You laughed at his awkwardness but heated up at the kind gesture. From your lack of response Kageyama looked panicked and said “Did I get the wrong flavour? Do you need me to get a new one?”

“No Tobio, it’s all perfect.” You scoot over and pat the seat besides you “Now come sit down and watch this movie with me.”

“Is it a thriller movie?” he asks scowling at your nod “But I hate – fine then.” he sits on the couch and digs into the ice cream you gave him.

You guys end the movie with Tobio’s head in your lap, as you stroke through his hair explaining about your terrible day. Kageyama was a great listener he always knew when to chime in with his thoughts and opinoins and when to let you continue to speak. Before you went to bed you say “Tobio, you know we already have the ice cream in the freezer right?” to which Kageyama facepalms.

#empasks🤍#EVENT!600 #haikyuu x reader comfort #haikyu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyu headcanons #kageyama x reader #Kageyama fluff

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samwritesforyou · 4 years

Text

We’re gonna be okay

Diego x reader

Summary: You and Diego worked out a system for a situation if he ever comes to your place while being in the highest form of distress and needs your help. He assured you it won’t happen often. Until one night, it finally did.

A/N: i feel like i’ve read the whole tumblr dot com worth of diego x reader fanfics and yet i still wanted more, so the desperate need to finally write something myself has been fulfilled. i would actually love to take requests, so if you want, dont hesitate to message/ask me! im ready to write fics and headcanons :) (my blog might seem new but ive been on tumblr for years and years and i finally dedicated a new blog to mostly reader inserts, either my own or reblogging others)

Warnings: Mentions of a panic attack, gender neutral reader

Wordcount: 3,350

There was a knock on the door.

It was pretty late, but not too late for it to be Diego yet.

Or so you thought.

You got up kinda lazily from a comfortable chair you had situated in the corner of a room, at first designed mainly for reading or napping, but ending up doing absolutely whatever you could on the spot. Eating pizza, watching netflix, browsing through the internet after long working hours that you put in into your tiny art selling business.

You slightly opened the door and already plastered a semi-fake smile for a possible neighbor, but in front of you stood Diego.

Your dear friend, who was at the moment soaked from the rain outside, with big eyes, fast breathing and bloody hands.

Bloody hands?!

“Hello to you too, friend!” you said quite worried, quickly patting him down for signs of any physical pain. For the first time in a while he seemed fine, unscarred.

Your eyes finally went up, literally scanning his face but it was completely unreadable.

His eyes were wide and he looked as if he couldn’t comprehend what was going on around him.

You looked down again and took his fists into your hands. His own palms unclenched and you could see that they were heavily bloodied.

“Diego.. whose blood is it?”

No answer.

You rushed him inside and closed the door behind the two of you, facing the damn vigilante again.

“Diego, I need to know who’s blood is on your hands,” your voice grew steadier as you knitted your brows together in worry and confusion.

Only then the guy decided to move his arms and you noticed how shaky he is. He connected his two index fingers in the form of a cross, pressing it to his chest.

Your own eyes went wide now as you stumbled back a few steps and your mind went blank.

You instantly remembered a night that happened a few years back. He has come in crumbling through your window and was obviously in some new form of distress, that you couldn’t quite understand yet.

“Diego?” it seemed like your voice didn’t reach his ears, so you tried calling out his name again, getting up from the couch and patting him lightly on the body, to determine any sign of an injury.

It looked like there was none, so you tried to reach his gaze that was somewhat absentminded, all over the place, scanning everything but not meeting your eyes.

He was a tough guy, and you knew it. You knew that if you want to get answers, you need to either get them yourself or make yourself heard, until he cannot ignore you any longer.

“Diego Hargreeves, what is going on?” your voice was soft yet determined.

His dark orbs finally stopped on your face and he just shook his head, his breathing oddly fast for a man who was just simply standing.

You continued to push. You didn’t have the best day either, and to be interrupted at 1am by his visit was nothing new, but you couldn’t let him have this behaviour. Even though you’re friends, that didn’t automatically mean that he could do whatever he wanted.

Throughout the whole night he didn’t say a thing, but when you started adding volume to your voice, he.. he just broke down.

That night, you’ve witnessed Diego experience a panic attack. Caused by yourself.

You couldn’t fall asleep that night, even after you eventually calmed him down and the only thing that was left to do for you was to watch him sleep and slowly rubbing circles on his exposed arm out of the blanket.

It felt like neons before you noticed a first ray of sunshine drawing from the half-closed curtains, making you spring to your feet and drag your ass to the kitchen, trying to think of what to do for breakfast.

When you figured the recipe out and finished cooking, Diego was already up and joined you near the kitchen counter, next to which you had two stools.

He settled on one of them, looking at you.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” you couldn’t muster anything better, so you just put a plate in front of him and then sat next to his side, simply digging into your portion of scrambled eggs.

“About last night, y/n..” he drifted off, probably at first deciding that it’s better to fill his stomach a little bit.

In the meantime you didn’t dare to speak up and just waited for him to say something, anything.

When he finished his meal, he finally turned to you with a sigh.

“You know that one guy I told you ‘bout? That we.. we do some vigilante shit together from time to time?”

You just nodded, not meeting his eyes.

“Well. I guess I could count him as a close friend. You know.. and,” this was followed by a slight pause and clearing of the throat.

“He died yesterday. I couldn’t save him.”

Your eyes immediately shot up to Diego and all that vulnerability and hurt that you’ve clearly seen yesterday just overtaking him were completely gone. Now present only a strong facade that he mastered whenever he needed to hide from showing emotions. You hated it.

“Shit, Diego..” you spoke quietly and softly, all the words seemed to have left you in all the things unsaid in your throat. But you tried to continue.

“I’m sorry. And I’m also sorry for pushing you over the edge. I.. I didn’t know what happened so I just acted how we would normally do,” he smirked at that, merely for a second, but you still caught it.

“Look, I.. I know, “ he simply said and then it felt as if he was weighting pros and cons of telling you something else that was clearly on his chest.

“You always help me out. Every single night I come to you.. Why do you do it, y/n?” Diego’s eyes were steadily turned your way.

At the sudden question you raised an eyebrow, “well, I.. I care about you.”

He lightly bit his lower lip and turned his gaze away, clearly thinking about something really hard.

“Okay,” he finally said, “y/n, do you think I could ask you for a favour then?”

At that your eyes met and you felt nervous, for some reason.

You really liked him. Not just like a friend. But you understood that there probably won’t be a chance for you two to ever become a couple (mostly considering that you didn’t believe that he could feel about you this way), so you settled for friendship anyways, since you two really got along well.

And having this handsome tough guy as a friend? Damn, just that is already some kind of luck swinging your way.

But your feelings of course meant that.. you’d do more for him than what you’d do just for a friend. You would get out of your comfort zone just to help him with injuries or hear him talk about his girlfriend (at the time, now they were broken up) and how they argued so much that he ended up on the streets and didn’t really want to go to his lonely place at the gym.

And you took him in. You always did. And since the day you became friends you always care for him.

And you’d care now once again.

“What is it?” in your tone danced a question, troubled with what he might ask for.

“Well, yesterday-“ he cut himself from finishing and cleared his throat, starting over.

“I imagine we’re gonna be friends for a long time, right?”

You just pushed your brows up with a small nod in affirmation.

“I never had.. anyone, really, to help me with the states I often got into,” you immediately thought of Eudora, wasn’t his ex-girlfriend supposed to be his support pillar? Or is he just making you feel sorry for him-

“Or I didn’t ever trust anyone that much, you know,” oh, okay, that kind of explains that then.

“And I guess.. I trust you enough? To share this?” he talked quietly and mumbled a lot so you realised soon you won’t be able to hear him at all.

You grabbed his hands with yours and caught his attention this way.

You were never really touchy together, but occasional hugs and even holding hands was kind of a standard for you from time to time.

His eyes met yours again and you cursed yourself for your heartbeat getting faster. This is not an appropriate moment to get butterflies in your stomach, dammit.

“I’m listening, Diego,” you confirmed, nodding again.

“Okay. It’s- it’s just really h-hard to talk about this,” he stuttered a bit, but with the next breath continued again, “When there’s some situation that’s just completely fucked up, like losing someone close to me, or- or somethin’ else, I don’t know.. I finish what I need at the scene where it happened but when I come home I just,” he breathed some air in and you felt his hands squeeze yours a bit tighter, “I just break down, you know? Sometimes it’s just all too much for me and I don’t know how to deal with it and I would just wanna.. someone to hold me, I guess? Otherwise when someone’s trying to talk at me or somethin’ I just get even more worked up and it’s even worse.”

It all started to come together in your mind. Even though it sounded really strange to hear Diego talk about things like.. wanting to be held and shit. But you always guessed there’s a far bigger sweetheart and a soft boy underneath all those harness and knives.

You tried to pick your words carefully.

“So when I started to ask you shit.. You just flipped. Basically because I was talking at you a lot and you couldn’t take it anymore, right?”

He sighed and looked somewhere up, nodding bit by bit.

“Yeah, yep. That was it.”

You clapped at his hands lightly, to bring his focus back again and he looked at you and mustered a sad, faint smile.

You did the same. In the world you lived in, unforeseen and unfortunate events were happening left and right and thinking about his childhood and everything.. no wonders he developed such a huge reaction and coping mechanism to something catastrophic happening.

“That’s okay, Diego. I’m here for you, I mean it. Let’s just talk about some things what I should and shouldn’t do when you come here in that state, alright? I just want you to feel comfortable.”

“Alright. Thank you, y/n,” he was looking down now, the whole morning kinda failing to meet your gaze and just rubbed his thumb across your hand, which send you heart into a race again.

You slowly let go of him, making an excuse to go wash the dishes.

After a while you looked behind you where he sat and said, “We also need some sort of a sign that you can easily show me, since you’re not really talkative when you get like this.”

Apparently he already used said “sign” somewhere, because he had it on the ready.

It was his hands clutching in fists, index fingers crossing each other in a form of a cross, pressed to his chest.

“Something like this. But don’t worry, I don’t think it’ll happen often. That would be really sad,” he laughed a little and then looked at you somewhat longingly and you averted your eyes back to the sink, nodding.

You almost forgot about that and now it all come flooding back.

Something terrible must’ve happened. You were panicking, but you had to stay strong, for him.

He was still standing in your hallway, with a crossed index fingers pressed to his chest.

“Okay, okay..” you mumbled more to yourself than to him, taking his hands into yours and looking him up and down.

He really seemed.. disconnected. It was kind of scary and you tried so hard not to think about what happened. Or about who died.

“Here, come with me, Diego,” you led him by the hand towards your couch as he was holding onto you, but his usual grip was gone.

You both ended up on a sofa and you really didn’t know how to act around him now, because.. he didn’t talk, didn’t look at you but when he did, his eyes were wide and big and he just seemed suddenly like a small boy to you.

Hopefully he won’t remember this tomorrow, you thought and tried to smile a little bit at him.

“Okay. Can you get your hands up for me, baby boy?” You’ve decided to approach this situation as if you were just babysitting an overgrown child.

Because nothing bad happens to children normally, right? And if you kept thinking about him as usual grown man Diego, you’d lose your mind in the process, wanting to scream and shake him by the shoulders until he spills you what happened.

Being Diego’s friend pushed you to new limits each day, truly.

He didn’t bat an eyelid at your tone change and word choosing, just obliging and putting his hands up.

You helped him to get his knives down and put his black turtleneck over his head, so now he sat shirtless right next to you, hands still smeared with blood.

Goddamit the blood!

You took him by the elbows and lead Diego to the bathroom, where you helped to get the red out of his hands. At the sight of blood dripping down into the sink you deciphered a whimper from him, even through the sound of running water and looked up.

Diego couldn’t stop looking down at his hands and tears were running down his cheeks.

You quickly took his face into your wet hands from the water and forced him to look away and lock his gaze with yours.

“Hey, don’t look at it, okay? It’ll only make you stressed. Until I’m done you can just close you eyes, okay?”

“Oh-okay,” he said and just closed his eyes here and there.

You sighed and tried to finish washing his hands as fast as possible, cursing under your breath pretty often.

“I’m sorry..” you heard him mumble and when you looked up, his eyes were still shut.

“Nothin’ to be sorry about.. We’ll talk about this tomorrow, right? Don’t worry. You’re safe now,” you smiled as you were already wrapping his hands in a towel and his eyelashes fluttered, eyes opening.

You stayed looking at each other for a second longer than necessary, but then you already lead him away to the bedroom area, where you actually tucked him in, wrapping in a soft blanket and then rushed to the kitchen, grabbing a few cookies and then leaving it on a plate next to him on the night table.

You almost made yourself comfortable on the couch, when he suddenly called out your name from the bed.

You sprung to your feet, thinking he’s actually hurt but you didn’t notice or that- “Can you... stay with me? P-please?” he asked, disrupting your train of thought. You did expect this, but still felt really shy about that.

Diego is vulnerable right now and does need your help and presence though.

And there wouldn’t be anything you wouldn’t do for him.

“Sure,” and after this simple answer you carefully climbed in next to him covering you both with a blanket and he curled up closer to you, almost immediately falling asleep.

From one point of view it felt like you wouldn’t sleep at all tonight, but from the other one.. you actually fell asleep just as fast as he did.

To nobody’s surprise you woke up first and actually flinched at the sight of sleeping Diego inches from your own face.

Your mind went running with ideas what happened and what’s going on until you realised the real deal and your brain caught up to yesterday’s shenanigans.

It was a wild ride and you were thankful that now it’s - most probably - over.

Your eyes were subconsciously scanning his face, until you realised what you’re doing, but you didn’t stop even then.

You’ve never been this close to his face yet and now you could admire and explore every part of it.

Having feelings for a friend that’s laying in the same bed with you at the moment is really not the healthiest thing that could’ve happened to you, huh..

You actually froze and your heart started racing billion times faster when you realised that you have a weight of his arm around your waist, pulling you closer from his sleep.

He grunted and his nose was now in your hair, shuffling a little to get more comfortable.

You had no idea how to change positions, especially when being held by such a strong arm as his and you got a feeling like Diego might actually wake up just about now, so the best solution that came into your mind was to forcefully close your eyes shut and pretend that you’re still sleeping.

He did, indeed, wake up. You were suddenly pushed to the other side of the bed, arm disappearing from your waist and a waterfall of curses fell from his lips quietly.

You used up all your acting stamina to make a believable scene of you gaining your conscious from the deep slumber that you were obviously in, stretched your arms for a good effect and finally opened your eyes.

You immediately signed up for a staring contest as soon as you looked at him and smiled a little. His face remained unreadable but perhaps a little bit flustered?.. But you may be reading too much into it.

“Hi,” you said with a higher tone than intended and Diego just nodded at that.

You tried your luck by addressing the elephant in the room right away, you never liked ignoring the problems that were always looming over you, “care to tell me what happened yesterday?”

He drew a big sigh and rested his head back on the pillow, looking up at the ceiling.

You couldn’t stop looking at him. At first because you really wanted to know the mystery, but the longer you looked at him, the more you realised that you’re just admiring the beauty that he holds, until his words fell like a dead weight right onto your shoulders.

“I found Eudora’s body yesterday. I couldn’t get to the place in time and someone killed her.”

What?

It felt like what he said was simply a trick of your imagination. You liked Eudora yourself, she was a very intelligent and an interesting person, you two often hung out and that feeling didn’t cease even after you found out that she and Diego started dating.

And even when they broke up some months after, you still found your way to spend time with her. So did Diego.

You wanted to cry, but thought that it might be insensitive towards him, because he was much closer to her than you were, so you tried to swallow your forming tears down.

“I’m.. I’m so sorry, Diego..”

“It’s your loss too, I know it, y/n,” he looked at you with much softer look this time.

“Come here,” he said a little bit hesitantly and opened up one arm towards you.

This was unusual, but maybe last night’s events tore down some walls?.. Who knows.

You almost threw yourself into his embrace and once your forehead rested on his chest, you started crying.

From everything, honestly. There’s been problems at work, your seemingly unrequited feelings for Diego didn’t help much either and now you learned that you lost one of your friends.

He started rubbing circles on your back, just letting you get those emotions out, while you two were hugging each other on the bed in your apartment.

And as you slowly started to calm down, he said a gentle, “it’s gonna be okay. We’re gonna be okay”

#diego x reader #diego hargreeves x reader #tua diego #diego reader insert #the umbrella academy #tua fanfic #umbrella academy x reader #diego hargreeves #number two

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fan4196 · 3 years

Note

Hi 😊 I don‘t know if you take requests right now but it would be great to read a story line where Jo has Covid and Alex is really worried about her. Thank you so much 😊

First of all thank you so much for this request, it is my first one and it was really fun to write it. I'm so sorry that it took so long, but here it is finally. I changed it a little bit because I really have no experience with Covid, so it would have been hard to write it automatically. Hope you like it nevertheless.

Also thank you to @angry-slytherin for beta reading 💜

"You feeling better?" Alex askes his wife as they wait in line to get their temperature taken before work, like every time they have to do now, since the global pandemic hit Grey-Sloan too.

"Yes." She answers shortly, smiling under her mask, while she squeezes his hand that is intertwined with hers.

Before Alex can ask any further questions it's their turn. Alex goes first, getting his temperature checked and checked off, that he's clear to work. Jo's next and about to follow her husband when she gets called back by the nurse behind the table.

"Ahm doctor Karev? I'm sorry but I have to ask you to immediately go to the Covid tent and get yourself tested."

"What?" She asks confused; she's neither showing any symptoms nor feeling sick. Well except from this when she puked her guts out because they had crappy food last night, but other than that she felt fine to work.

But looks like she's not. Alex also immediately stops and turns back to his wife. Watching the scene before him, walking back closer, to hear the conversation between Jo and the nurse that resently took their temperature.

"Your temperature is 106 degrees. Above 100 degrees I have to send you to the Covid tent to get yourself tested before you can work. I'm very sorry but it's one of the new hospital laws." The nurse behind the table explains; her mask and face shield hiding her sorry smile.

"Well, alright. See you later then." Jo says, turning to Alex to kiss him through their masks. She's about to walk away when he, instead of taking the other way to the attendings room, follows her.

"What are you doing? Your temperature was fine. Go work." She complaines, as she makes her way to the Covid tent followed by Alex.

"You really think if you have it, I don't? We sleep in the freaking same bed and we definitely didn't stay six feet apart in the last time." He smirks, grabbing Jo's hand again as he holds the door open for her.

In the tent they got a number and had to wait until it's their turn. They got tested and are now waiting for their results.

"Alright, the Karevs." Doctor Bailey speaks as she walks towards them with their results. "Both of your tests have been negative. You can go to work." She declares as she hands them their test results.

"Negativ? Are you sure? Her temperature was 106." Alex askes, looking from Bailey to Jo, who also looks confused and paler by every minute.

"Are you question my testings here, Karev?" Bailey asks in her typical Bailey tone, propping her hands in her hips.

"No, but-"

"Then don't ask stupid questions and take your wife to the ER to get her blood tested." Without another word she's gone.

They do as Bailey told them. Alex takes Jo to the ER, insisting that she lays down on a gurney, while he draws her blood.

"Schmitt!" He shouts at the resident as soon as he walks by. "Are you going to the lab?" Alex asks pointing towards the bags and cups in the residents hands.

"Ahm yes." Schmitt answeres a little terrified by Alex tone.

"Take this and let them test it." He hands Schmitt the blood draw. "And tell them to do it fast. If they ask tell them it's for the chief."

With that the resident is out the door. Alex takes his seat beside Jo's gurney again. She's turned towards Alex, eyes closed. He hates seeing her like that. He knows that she's uncomfortable and feeling like shit.

"You're sure you're still ok?" He once again askes concerned, stroking her hair, as he pulls her slipped mask back over her nose with his other hand.

She answers with a head shake as she opens her eyes, looking up to him.

"I think I'm gonna puke in my mask any second." She answers, closing her eyes again to calm her nausea.

"We will never get take out from that place again." Alex mumbles, still stroking her hair as he leans back on his chair, waiting for Jo's test results in silence.

It's his fault. He should have got them the stupid pizza Jo had wanted, but no he had been way to tired last night after his shift and got them Chinese food from this crappy place in their street. Now he food poisoned his wife and has to watch her while she's feeling more and more crappy, in the middle of a pendemic. He really deserves the award for crappiest husband of the year.

"You should really work, instead of messing up my hair." Jo complains, not making a move, afraid to puke all over her husband if she just moves an inch to much.

"Shut up. I'm not going anywhere. You don't feel well and I doubt that you can get up from this gurney without anyone's help. Also just freaking tell me if I should stop stroking your hair." He answers, stopping his fingers in her hair.

"No don't stop. It helps with the headache." She contradicts.

"What? What headache? When did that start?" He askes immediately even more concerned than before. This is obviously not just food poisoning.

"Don't know, since the nausea subsided a little bit. I'm also a little dizzy."

"Parker!" Alex shouts from his chair towards the resident that is just cleaning up the bed next to them. "Get me an IV bag. Now!"

Two minutes later Parker's back and hooking Jo up to the IV bag. He just finishes as Schmitt rounds the corner with Jo's test results in his hand.

"Here doctor Karev." He hands the paper to Alex. "Ahm congratulations." With that he's gone, leaving Alex and Jo confused behind.

"What does he mean?" Jo asks, trying to sit up but immediately lying back down as a new wave of nausea washes over her. "What does it say?"

"-you're pregnant." Alex answers his wife's question, looking up from the paper with watery eyes.

"What?" She can't believe what she just heard.

"You are pregnant, Jo. 100% pregnant. Knocked up. Ten week pregnant with our baby."

They are both speechless. No one saying a word. They just stare at each other. Not completely getting that their life was just turned upside down within a second. They are going to be freaking parent in about seven months. They haven't really been trying for a baby. But it had been their new year's plan to start a family, they stopped using any kind of protection, but then the Corona virus hit the world and Grey-Sloan and they had other things to think about.

Well not anymore. Now they have a tiny human to think about.

Alex still can't wrap his head around the fact that he's gonna be a Dad soon. The tears in his eyes have found their way down his cheeks, mirroring the tears on his wife's cheeks.

They still just stare at each other until Jo reaches for his cheek and pulls Alex down in her arms. With his face buried in her hair he also wrapps his arms tight around his wife.

"Thank you." He mumbles in her neck, lifting his head to put his forehead on hers. "Thank you, for letting me knock you up." He repeats again. Pulling his mask down first, then pulling hers down to finally kiss her. Both of them are way to happy to care about the people around them, captured in their little bubble of joy. Until the determining voice of Bailey pops it.

"Karev! Karev! Masks back on! Now!"

They seperate with the biggest grins on their faces, putting their masks back over their mouths and noses.

"So if it's a boy I would say Covid and Corona if it's a girl?" He asks sitting back up on his chair, stroking his wife's hair again, looking at her like the smiliest idiot.

"Shut up!"

#jolex #alex #alex karev #fan4196 #fanfiction #fanfic #jo #jo wilson #jo karev #grey's #grey's anatomy #grey's fic #request

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summahsunlight · 4 years

Note

I’ve loved your prompts so far, could I request #6 with Poe? Congrats on 150 followers! ❤️

Thanks! I hope you enjoy this, this one was fun to write, might not be as angsty as some of the other things I’ve posted, but I like it❤️

Title: For Breaking Her Heart

Rating: T

Word Count: 1124

Pairing: Poe Dameron/Pilot!Reader

Summary: From 50 Angsty Questions Prompt list (here), #6 “Why are you eyes so red?”

Warnings: angsty, but with a bit of fluff at the end

BB-8 was the one to find you, huddled behind a shipping crate, sniffling. It was an excellent hiding place; you’d lost count of how many members of the Resistance had strolled by here while you’d been sitting with your back against the crate. You had been there since returning from Black Squadron’s latest mission.

You weren’t surprised that BB-8 had found you; there was a good chance that Poe had sent the little droid out looking for you since no one had probably seen you in several hours. BB-8 confirmed your suspicions when he swiveled around and called out that he’d found you. This was followed by footsteps on the duracrete floor of the hanger.

“Hey! There you are!” Poe’s friendly voice exclaimed. “Is this where you disappeared too this afternoon? Kind of...an odd place, flygirl.”

Why did his cute little pet name for you make you cry? Poe was your best friend, you’d known each since you were children and when you’d heard the Resistance needed pilots, he needed pilots, you left your little house on Yavin IV and joined him. Ever since arriving he’d taken extra care of you, some of the newer recruits accused him of favoritism but your squadron knew the truth--that you were a damn good pilot--and you were his best friend. Naturally, Poe would take extra care of his best friend.

Poe sat down next to you when you remained silent and didn’t even bother to lift your head to look at him. He reached out and played with your ponytail. “Everyone is about to go the mess and have dinner... are you going to join us tonight? Thinking about going down to the beach later to celebrate a successful mission.”

You shook your head. You were not in the mood to have dinner with your friends, you were not in the mood to go down to the beach and celebrate your success. Blinking some tears out of your eyes, you finally raised your head and looked at Poe. Even though his face was blurry thanks to your tears you could clearly see his expression change from relaxed and carefree to deep concern for you.

“Why are your eyes so red?” Poe asked, brow furrowed. “Have you... have you been crying, Y/N?”

“Yes,” you whimpered, tears escaping your eyes. You were surprised you had any tears left to shed. “Yes, I’ve been crying.”

His jaw clenched tightly. “Who? Who made you cry like this?”

Sobbing you told him everything; how when you landed, you went to your boyfriend’s quarters--another pilot on base--and you found him in bed with his sultry mechanic. “Everyone warned me that it was going to happen but I thought he loved me, Poe. I didn't think...I didn’t think he’d hurt me like this.”

Poe hated that you’d had your heart broken like this. He opened his arms to you, “C’mere, sweetheart,” he whispered, just as you fell into his embrace. He wrapped his arms around you and held you close. “Don’t shed another tear over him, Y/N. He doesn’t deserve it; he didn’t deserve you. Obviously he had no idea what he had because if he had any clue he’d have looked at you like you were the sun, the moon, and the stars. He would have treated you like a princess and he never would have thrown away your affection like that.”

He set you away from his chest, wiping at the tears on your cheeks. “You deserve someone who is going to look at you like you’re the sun, the moon, and the stars. You deserve someone who is going to treat you like a princess because you’re kind and strong and beautiful.”

You smiled, sadly, and a large part of you wanted to ask if he would look at you that way--if he would be the one to treat you like a princess. Maybe you had never really loved that other pilot, maybe you were just waiting for Poe to man up and admit he had feelings for you.

“I wish I had said something sooner,” Poe confessed. “I knew that guy was trouble, but you were happy with him. I didn’t want to interfere. I’m sorry I stayed silent, I’m sorry I let him break your heart.”

“Poe, it’s not your fault,” you assured him, feeling his arms tighten around your waist. “You couldn’t have possibly known what was going to happen no matter how much you insist that you did.”

“Who says I was going to tell you he was going to cheat?”

“What...what do you wish you had said sooner than?”

His lips brushed against yours, drawing you in for a soft kiss. “I love you,” Poe said, the words leaving his mouth in a hot breath against your skin. “I love you and it killed me to see you with him. I want to be the one to make you laugh and smile. I want to be the one that you steal little looks across the command center from, I want to be the one you kiss... I just want to be the one, sweetheart.”

Your heart leapt up into your throat. You had been dying to hear him say those words. “I want you to be the one, too, Poe. I’ve loved you since we were teenagers but I didn’t think... I thought I was just a friend to you.”

Poe kissed you again, this time his tongue ran along your lower lip, enticing you to part your lips and allow him inside. He tasted like stale caf and you loved how his tongue swept over yours, caressing it. When he pulled away this time, he gently tugged on your lower lip, smiling, coyly at you. “I really did come find you to let you know about dinner...”

“Can I just go to my room and wash my face?”

“Sure. Meet in the mess?”

You nodded, letting him help you to your feet. As you walked away, you heard BB-8 blurt finally at Poe, who chuckled. Poe watched until you were gone, then with BB-8 in tow, made his way to the mess hall. Black Squadron was seated at their normal table. Snap called him over, asking if he had found you.

Poe confirmed he’d found you just as he spotted your now ex-boyfriend across the mess hall. “I’ll be right back, I have to take care of something,” he said, striding over to the table your ex was seated at.

“Hey Dameron, can I--”

Your ex-boyfriend didn’t get to finish his question; Poe punched him right between the eyes and while the others in the mess hall looked on in shock, he snapped, “That was for breaking her heart.”

#ask summah #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron x you #poe x reader #poe x you #poe dameron angst #150 followers celebration #reader request

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butterflies-dragons · 4 years

Note

Hi. You said in your Jon and women meta that Lyanna is a combination of both Sansa and Arya. Can you give her parallels with both girls?

Hello Anon,

Yes this past week I’ve said that Lyanna Stark was a mixture of the Stark Sisters.

I also said that I always thought that the Sansa from the original outline was very similar to Lyanna Stark:

Now ¿How marrying the heir of the Iron Throne/King of the 7K is supposed to be an act of dubious loyalty? Because GRRM has stated that in high nobility there is no marriage without the Lord Father of the bride’s blessing. Furthermore, from the wedding the bride belongs to her husband’s house, that’s all the fuzz with the cloaking ceremony, going from the maiden’s cloak to your husband’s cloak. You left your paternal house to belong with your husbands house. Sansa’s loyalty was with her husband, and more important, Sansa’s love and loyalty was with her baby boy. So, how choosing his baby over her paternal house could be seem as an act of dubious loyalty then? And even if she wanted to come back to her paternal family, does she really get a chance without the risk of being captured, separated from her baby, accused of treason and executed, leaving her baby boy motherless?

Oh I get it, there was an enmity between Starks and Lannisters. So, Or Joffrey abducted Sansa? Or Sansa eloped to marry Joffrey? How very Shakespearean of you George! This is Romeo and Juliet all over again. Or even better, this is Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark oll over again.

Original Outline Sansa was Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and mother of the heir to the Iron Throne.

It is implied by the fandom that this Sansa dies because the outline says that Jaime dethrones and kills Joffrey and “everyone ahead of him in the line of succession” (Sansa’s baby). Well, Sansa was not in the line of succession, but it’s probable that Jaime had to kill her to get to her baby boy, which reminds me of Elia Martell & her babies’ tragic and devastating deaths.

And landing more on the subject, I said that: Arya and Sansa play different roles in Jon’s life: Sansa is the distant half sister, the archetype of the princess in the tower, that he thinks he would never get. While Arya is the closest sister, the comfortable presence of a girl with less feminine inclinations. And both of them resemblance different aspects of Lyanna Stark. While Arya got Lyanna’s spirit and physical features, Sansa Stark got the less known romantic nature of Lyanna, after all, Lyanna cried while listening Rhaegar playing the harp, eloped with him, bore him a son, found herself trapped in a tower, and unwillingly caused the death of her father and older brother. Like a Lady in a sad and beautiful song.

We can draw parallels between Lyanna and her two nieces, but there are also parallels shared by the three of these She-wolves of Winterfell. Let’s see:

LYANNA & ARYA

Appearance:

“You remind me of her sometimes. You even look like her." "Lyanna was beautiful," Arya said, startled. Everybody said so. It was not a thing that was ever said of Arya. "She was," Eddard Stark agreed, "beautiful, and willful, and dead before her time." —AGOT - Arya II

Carrying a sword:

"Lyanna might have carried a sword, if my lord father had allowed it. You remind me of her sometimes. —AGOT - Arya II

The wolf-blood:

“Arya, you have a wildness in you, child. The wolf blood, my father would call it. Lyanna had a touch of it."—AGOT - Arya II

"She was," Eddard Stark agreed, "beautiful, and willful, and dead before her time." —AGOT - Arya II

This willfulness of yours, the running off, the angry words, the disobedience … at home, these were only the summer games of a child. Here and now, with winter soon upon us, that is a different matter. It is time to begin growing up." —AGOT - Arya II

Punching annoying brothers & friends:

Now two children danced across the godswood, hooting at one another as they dueled with broken branches. The girl was the older and taller of the two. Arya! Bran thought eagerly, as he watched her leap up onto a rock and cut at the boy. But that couldn't be right. If the girl was Arya, the boy was Bran himself, and he had never worn his hair so long. And Arya never beat me playing swords, the way that girl is beating him. She slashed the boy across his thigh, so hard that his leg went out from under him and he fell into the pool and began to splash and shout. "You be quiet, stupid," the girl said, tossing her own branch aside. "It's just water. Do you want Old Nan to hear and run tell Father?" She knelt and pulled her brother from the pool, but before she got him out again, the two of them were gone. — ADWD - Bran III

When the spirit stepped out of the open tomb, pale white and moaning for blood, Sansa ran shrieking for the stairs, and Bran wrapped himself around Robb's leg, sobbing. Arya stood her ground and gave the spirit a punch. It was only Jon, covered with flour. "You stupid," she told him, "you scared the baby," but Jon and Robb just laughed and laughed, and pretty soon Bran and Arya were laughing too. —AGOT - Arya IV

The dragon prince sang a song so sad it made the wolf maid sniffle, but when her pup brother teased her for crying she poured wine over his head. —ASOS - Bran II

"My lady?" Ned looked embarrassed. "I'm Edric Dayne, the . . . the Lord of Starfall." Behind them, Gendry groaned. "Lords and ladies," he proclaimed in a disgusted tone. Arya plucked a withered crabapple off a passing branch and whipped it at him, bouncing it off his thick bull head. "Ow," he said. "That hurt." He felt the skin above his eye. "What kind of lady throws crabapples at people?" "The bad kind," said Arya, suddenly contrite. She turned back to Ned. "I'm sorry I didn't know who you were. My lord." —ASOS - Arya VIII

Half-horses:

"You ride like a northman, milady," Harwin said when he'd drawn them to a halt. "Your aunt was the same. Lady Lyanna. But my father was master of horse, remember." —ASOS - Arya III

Horses … the boy was mad for horses, Lady Dustin will tell you. Not even Lord Rickard's daughter could outrace him, and that one was half a horse herself. —ADWD - Reek III

"Brandon was fostered at Barrowton with old Lord Dustin, the father of the one I'd later wed, but he spent most of his time riding the Rills. He loved to ride. His little sister took after him in that. A pair of centaurs, those two. —ADWD - The Turncloak

This is a contrast with Sansa: "I hate riding," Sansa said fervently. "All it does is get you soiled and dusty and sore." —AGOT - Sansa I

LYANNA & SANSA

Beauty:

Both Lyanna and Sansa are considered beautiful:

Lyanna:

"She [Lyanna] was," Eddard Stark agreed, "beautiful, and willful, and dead before her time." —AGOT - Arya II

Lyanna had only been sixteen, a child-woman of surpassing loveliness. Ned had loved her with all his heart. Robert had loved her even more. She was to have been his bride. —AGOT - Eddard I

"The maid's a fair one," Osha said. —AGOT - Bran VII

The northern girl had a wild beauty, as he recalled. —ADWD - Epilogue

Sansa:

Sansa’s needlework was exquisite. Everyone said so. “Sansa’s work is as pretty as she is.”

Sansa had the grace to blush. She blushed prettily. She did everything prettily.

Worse, she was beautiful. Sansa had gotten their mother’s fine high cheekbones and the thick auburn hair of the Tullys.

“I saw Sansa at the court, the day Tyrion told me his terms. She looked most beautiful, my lady. Perhaps a, a bit wan. Drawn, as it were.”

Men would say she had my look, but she will grow into a woman far more beautiful than I ever was.

“You are very beautiful, my lady,” the seamstress said when she was dressed.

Ser Kevan told her she was beautiful, Jalabhar Xho said something she did not understand in the Summer Tongue, and Lord Redwyne wished her many fat children and long years of joy.

"Ser Ossifer speaks truly, you are the most beautiful maid in all the Seven Kingdoms.”

“Had we known such beauty awaited us at the Gates, we would have flown,” Ser Roland said. Though his words were addressed to Myranda Royce, he smiled at Alayne as he said them.

Inner Strength:

"You never knew Lyanna as I did, Robert," Ned told him. "You saw her beauty, but not the iron underneath”. —AGOT - Eddard VII

My skin has turned to porcelain, to ivory, to steel. —ASOS - Sansa V

Pleading Ned to protect part of themselves:

He could still hear Sansa pleading, as Lyanna had pleaded once. —AGOT - Eddard IV

Lyanna was pleading to her brother Ned to protect her son, while Sansa was pleading to her father Ned to protect her direwolf, Lady, part of Sansa’s soul. Later, Ned regretted failing Sansa...

Knights & Queens of Love and Beauty:

Lyanna was a Mystery Knight AND was crowned Queen of Love and Beauty at the Tourney of Harrenhal.

Lyanna as the Knight of the Laughing Tree:

But late on the afternoon of that second day, as the shadows grew long, a mystery knight appeared in the lists. Bran nodded sagely. [...] “It was the little crannogman, I bet.” “No one knew,” said Meera, “but the mystery knight was short of stature, and clad in ill-fitting armor made up of bits and pieces. The device upon his shield was a heart tree of the old gods, a white weirwood with a laughing red face.” [...] “Whoever he was, the old gods gave strength to his arm. The porcupine knight fell first, then the pitchfork knight, and lastly the knight of the two towers. None were well loved, so the common folk cheered lustily for the Knight of the Laughing Tree, as the new champion soon was called.” —ASOS - Bran II

Lyanna as the Queen of love and beauty. Rhaegar wearing rubies (red) gave her a crown of winter roses (blue):

The Targaryen prince armored all in black. On his breastplate was the three-headed dragon of his House, wrought all in rubies that flashed like fire in the sunlight. —AGOT - Eddard I

Ned remembered the moment when all the smiles died, when Prince Rhaegar Targaryen urged his horse past his own wife, the Dornish princess Elia Martell, to lay the queen of beauty's laurel in Lyanna's lap. He could see it still: a crown of winter roses, blue as frost. —AGOT - Eddard XV

Sansa attended the Tourney of the Hand at Kings Landing, met Petyr Baelish who told her that Catelyn was his Queen of Love and Beauty, and received a (red) rose from Ser Loras Tyrell, the Knight of Flowers, who was wearing an armor adorned with sapphires (blue). During the second day of the tourney, Sansa wore the red rose in her hair:

"Your mother was my queen of beauty once," the man said quietly. His breath smelled of mint. "You have her hair." His fingers brushed against her cheek as he stroked one auburn lock. Quite abruptly he turned and walked away. —AGOT - Sansa II

When the Knight of Flowers made his entrance, a murmur ran through the crowd, and he heard Sansa's fervent whisper, "Oh, he's so beautiful." Ser Loras Tyrell was slender as a reed, dressed in a suit of fabulous silver armor polished to a blinding sheen and filigreed with twining black vines and tiny blue forget-me-nots. The commons realized in the same instant as Ned that the blue of the flowers came from sapphires; a gasp went up from a thousand throats. Across the boy's shoulders his cloak hung heavy. It was woven of forget-me-nots, real ones, hundreds of fresh blooms sewn to a heavy woolen cape. —AGOT - Eddard VII

Her eyes were only for Ser Loras. When the white horse stopped in front of her, she thought her heart would burst. To the other maidens he had given white roses, but the one he plucked for her was red. "Sweet lady," he said, "no victory is half so beautiful as you." Sansa took the flower timidly, struck dumb by his gallantry. His hair was a mass of lazy brown curls, his eyes like liquid gold. She inhaled the sweet fragrance of the rose and sat clutching it long after Ser Loras had ridden off. —AGOT - Sansa II

The boy from Highgarden did something with his legs, and his horse pranced sideways, nimble as a dancer. Sansa clutched at his arm. "Father, don't let Ser Gregor hurt him," she said. Ned saw she was wearing the rose that Ser Loras had given her yesterday. Jory had told him about that as well. —AGOT - Eddard VII

At this point in the Books, Sansa, as Alayne Stone, is organizing a Tourney to elect the members of Robert Arryn personal guard, named the Brotherhood of the Winged Knights. As the daughter of Petyr Baelish, Lord Protector of the Vale, Alayne Stone could be crowned as the Queen of Love and Beauty.

This is a contrast with Arya who thinks tourneys are stupid: "I don't care about their stupid tourney." —AGOT - Arya II

Failed betrothal to a Baratheon:

Both Lyanna and Sansa were betrothed with a Baratheon, Lyanna with Robert and Sansa with Joffrey:

If Lyanna had lived, we should have been brothers, bound by blood as well as affection. Well, it is not too late. I have a son. You have a daughter. My Joff and your Sansa shall join our houses, as Lyanna and I might once have done. —AGOT - Eddard I

There is also this parallel between Jenny of Oldstones, Lyanna & Sansa [I wrote about it here]:

Note the parallels between Duncan Targaryen, his betrothed Baratheon and Jenny of Oldstones & Rhaegar Targaryen, Lyanna Stark and her betrothed Robert Baratheon: A Targaryen prince breaking an engagement with a member of House Baratheon that then originates a rebellion.

And this: Sansa was betrothed with Joffrey “Baratheon” and the engagement was broken in the middle of a war with Robb Stark leading an army against King Joffrey, and Jon almost breaking his vows to join Robb’s army to avenge Ned’s death and rescue their sisters. All of which makes me think about these parallels: Sansa being a hostage in King’s Landing & Lyanna’s “abduction”, Ned’s death & Rickard’s death, Robb’s death & Brandon’s death. And that leaves Jon to possibly play the role of Ned Stark in the future.

Basically if Jon and Sansa happens, they will parallel two stories: Rhaegar and Lyanna, a Targaryen/Stark couple; and Ned and Cat, a Stark/Tully couple.

And right now in the Books, Sansa Stark, under the disguise of Alayne Stone, is betrothed with a Robert-like young man: Harry Hardyn.

The Rose of Winterfell:

This is the tale:

According to free folk legend, Lord Brandon Stark, the liege of the north, once called Bael a coward. To take revenge for this affront and prove his courage, Bael climbed the Wall, took the kingsroad, and entered Winterfell under the guise of a singer named Sygerrik of Skagos. ("Sygerrik" means "deceiver" in the Old Tongue.) There, he sang until midnight for the lord.

Impressed by his skills as a singer, Lord Stark asked Bael what he wanted as a reward, but he requested only the most beautiful flower blooming in Winterfell's gardens. As the blue winter roses were just blooming, Brandon Stark presented him with one. The following morning, the maiden daughter of Lord Stark had disappeared, his only child, and in her bed was the blue winter rose.

Lord Brandon sent the members of the Night's Watch looking for them beyond the Wall, but they never found Bael or the girl. The Stark line was on the verge of extinction, when one day the girl was back in her room, holding in her arms an infant: they had actually never left Winterfell, staying hidden in the crypts. Bael's bastard with Brandon's daughter became the new Lord Stark.

Thirty years later, Bael was King-Beyond-the-Wall and led the wildlings' army south, and he had to fight his own son at the Frozen Ford. There, incapable of killing his own blood, he let himself be killed by Lord Stark. His son brought back Bael's head to Winterfell, and his mother who had loved the bard, seeing the trophy, killed herself by leaping from the top of a tower. The son was eventually slain by the Boltons.

[Source]

Ygritte told this story to Jon in ACOK - Jon VI, and it resembles Jon’s own story: Bael/Rhaegar (both harp players/bards) abducting/eloping Brandon's daughter/Lyanna, ‘the fairest flower that blooms in the gardens o' Winterfell’. Immediately after this chapter, comes ACOK - Sansa IV, where she flowered for the first time, next chapter is Jon again. (Jon-Sansa-Jon).

Also take note that Sansa was “abducted” by Petyr Baelish, a known deceiver, whose surname has a resemblance with the name Bael.

Ladies of Winterfell

Lyanna’s and Lady’s bones are buried at Winterfell, what makes them literally Ladies of Winterfell:

"She was more beautiful than that," the king said after a silence. His eyes lingered on Lyanna's face, as if he could will her back to life. Finally he rose, made awkward by his weight. "Ah, damn it, Ned, did you have to bury her in a place like this?" His voice was hoarse with remembered grief. "She deserved more than darkness …" "She was a Stark of Winterfell," Ned said quietly. "This is her place." —AGOT - Eddard I

Shortly, Jory brought him Ice. When it was over, he said, “Choose four men and have them take the body north. Bury her at Winterfell.” “All that way?” Jory said, astonished. “All that way,” Ned affirmed. “The Lannister woman shall never have this skin.” —AGOT - Eddard III

Bran felt all cold inside. "She lost her wolf," he said, weakly, remembering the day when four of his father's guardsmen had returned from the south with Lady's bones. Summer and Grey Wind and Shaggydog had begun to howl before they crossed the drawbridge, in voices drawn and desolate. Beneath the shadow of the First Keep was an ancient lichyard, its headstones spotted with pale lichen, where the old Kings of Winter had laid their faithful servants. It was there they buried Lady, while her brothers stalked between the graves like restless shadows. She had gone south, and only her bones had returned. —AGOT - Bran VI

I wrote about this before:

Now, back to Lady’s death. We know that this event is a turning point in Sansa’s arc, but other than that, the paragraphs leading to the direwolf’s execution are laden with symbolism and foreshadowing, not only for Sansa, but for Ned as well.

During the “trial”, Ned decides that he will take Lady’s life himself, in order to avoid having a butcher like Ilyn Payne do the execution. Then, before he struck, he pronounced her name in the same fashion Robb and Jon called the name of their direwolves before they both died. This for me foreshadows Ned’s own death. Also, before Lady’s death, Ned pleads King Robert to change his decision on putting down the direwolf, appealing to the memory of Lyanna, the woman Robert loved. Similarly, before Ned’s execution at the steps of the Sept of Baelor, Sansa pleads King Joffrey to spare her father’s life, appealing to the love he has for her. As we know, both pleas fell on deaf ears and both Lady and Ned lost their lives; bringing the story full circle, as Ilyn Payne himself cut off Ned’s head.

Another interesting thing is that before Lady’s death we have direct and indirect references to Lyanna Stark. We have the direct reference when Ned appealed to the love Robert Baratheon bore Lyanna, in order to save Lady’s life, and the indirect one when he ordered Jory to choose four men to return Lady’s body to the north, to bury her in Winterfell. This order Ned gave to his men alludes to his own decision to take Lyanna’s body to Winterfell to be buried in the crypts, after her demise, brought on by her doomed love affair with Rhaegar Targaryen.

Dubious Loyalty?

Both Lyanna and Sansa got infatuated by Golden Princes: Rhaegar Targaryen and Joffrey Baratheon, and because of that they both unintentionally played a part in the deaths of their fathers and older brothers, Rickard and Brandon & Ned and Robb. They both also ended trapped in towers regretting their doomed romances.

As I mentioned before, I always thought that the Sansa from the original outline was very similar to Lyanna Stark. That Sansa was described as member of dubious loyalty for her family; but while Lyanna is glorified by the fandom, both Outline Sansa and Asoiaf Sansa are unfairly vilified for committing the same actions that Lyanna did.

Also, as it was pointed out before, Rickard Stark and Catelyn Stark both saw their firstborn sons murdered in front of them, while convinced that their daughters were far away being raped and abused by cruel princes, and then were brutally murdered themselves.

Dead before their time:

"She [Lyanna] was," Eddard Stark agreed, "beautiful, and willful, and dead before her time." —AGOT - Arya II

And so many others were missing. Where had the rest of them gone? Sansa wondered. Vainly, she searched for friendly faces. Not one of them would meet her eyes. It was as if she had become a ghost, dead before her time. —A Game Of Thrones, Sansa V

Lyanna and Lady (part of Sansa’s soul) both died in the south, before their time.

Lyanna’s ghost has haunted Cersei: Cersei wanted to marry Rhaegar but ended married with Robert. Both Rhaegar and Robert loved Lyanna.

Lady is mentioned in the Books as a “shade”, a synonym for ghost. And after Ned’s death, Sansa became a ghost at the Red Keep’s court.

And to finish this section, here some gifsets that illustrate some of the Lyanna & Sansa parallels that were mentioned:

Sansa Stark and Lyanna Stark + parallels

Pleading

She-wolves of Winterfell

Beautiful, Captivating Child-Women

Hidden Metal ft. hair parallels

Broken ‘Baratheon’ Engagements ft. more hair parallels

Fair Maidens

LYANNA & ARYA & SANSA

The wolf-blood:

I have already mentioned this aspect of Lyanna and Arya above, but Sansa has the wolf-blood too. It’s subtle, but it’s there:

"I've never seen an aurochs," Sansa said, feeding a piece of bacon to Lady under the table. The direwolf took it from her hand, as delicate as a queen. Septa Mordane sniffed in disapproval. "A noble lady does not feed dogs at her table," she said, breaking off another piece of comb and letting the honey drip down onto her bread. "She's not a dog, she's a direwolf," Sansa pointed out as Lady licked her fingers with a rough tongue. "Anyway, Father said we could keep them with us if we want." The septa was not appeased. "You're a good girl, Sansa, but I do vow, when it comes to that creature you're as willful as your sister Arya." She scowled. "And where is Arya this morning?" —AGOT - Sansa I

"It won't be so bad, Sansa," Arya said. "We're going to sail on a galley. It will be an adventure, and then we'll be with Bran and Robb again, and Old Nan and Hodor and the rest." She touched her on the arm. "Hodor!" Sansa yelled. "You ought to marry Hodor, you're just like him, stupid and hairy and ugly!" She wrenched away from her sister's hand, stormed into her bedchamber, and barred the door behind her. —AGOT - Sansa III

Jeyne yawned. "Are there any lemon cakes?" Sansa did not like being interrupted, but she had to admit, lemon cakes sounded more interesting than most of what had gone on in the throne room. "Let's see," she said. The kitchen yielded no lemon cakes, but they did find half of a cold strawberry pie, and that was almost as good. They ate it on the tower steps, giggling and gossiping and sharing secrets, and Sansa went to bed that night feeling almost as wicked as Arya. —AGOT - Sansa III

After my name day feast, I'm going to raise a host and kill your brother myself. That's what I'll give you, Lady Sansa. Your brother's head." A kind of madness took over her then, and she heard herself say, "Maybe my brother will give me your head." —AGOT - Sansa VI

Knights protect the innocent:

Lyanna, as herself and as the Knight of the Laughing Tree, defended Howland Reed, a bannerman of House Stark:

"None offered a name, but he marked their faces well so he could revenge himself upon them later. They shoved him down every time he tried to rise, and kicked him when he curled up on the ground. But then they heard a roar. 'That's my father's man you're kicking,' howled the she-wolf." "A wolf on four legs, or two?" "Two," said Meera. "The she-wolf laid into the squires with a tourney sword, scattering them all. The crannogman was bruised and bloodied, so she took him back to her lair to clean his cuts and bind them up with linen. There he met her pack brothers: the wild wolf who led them, the quiet wolf beside him, and the pup who was youngest of the four.

(...)

“Whoever he was, the old gods gave strength to his arm. The porcupine knight fell first, then the pitchfork knight, and lastly the knight of the two towers. None were well loved, so the common folk cheered lustily for the Knight of the Laughing Tree, as the new champion soon was called.” —ASOS - Bran II

Arya defended Mycah, the butcher’s boy:

Mycah shook his head. "It's only a stick, m'lord. It's not no sword, it's only a stick." "And you're only a butcher's boy, and no knight." Joffrey lifted Lion's Tooth and laid its point on Mycah's cheek below the eye, as the butcher's boy stood trembling. "That was my lady's sister you were hitting, do you know that?" A bright bud of blood blossomed where his sword pressed into Mycah's flesh, and a slow red line trickled down the boy's cheek. "Stop it!" Arya screamed. She grabbed up her fallen stick. Sansa was afraid. "Arya, you stay out of this." "I won't hurt him … much," Prince Joffrey told Arya, never taking his eyes off the butcher's boy. Arya went for him. Sansa slid off her mare, but she was too slow. Arya swung with both hands. There was a loud crack as the wood split against the back of the prince's head, and then everything happened at once before Sansa's horrified eyes. — AGOT - Sansa I

Sansa, as a lady armored with her courtesy and wits, defended a defenestrated knight turned fool:

The king stood. "A cask from the cellars! I'll see him drowned in it." Sansa heard herself gasp. "No, you can't." Joffrey turned his head. "What did you say?" Sansa could not believe she had spoken. Was she mad? To tell him no in front of half the court? She hadn't meant to say anything, only . . . Ser Dontos was drunk and silly and useless, but he meant no harm. "Did you say I can't? Did you?" "Please," Sansa said, "I only meant . . . it would be ill luck, Your Grace . . . to, to kill a man on your name day." "You're lying," Joffrey said. "I ought to drown you with him, if you care for him so much." "I don't care for him, Your Grace." The words tumbled out desperately. "Drown him or have his head off, only . . . kill him on the morrow, if you like, but please . . . not today, not on your name day. I couldn't bear for you to have ill luck . . . terrible luck, even for kings, the singers all say so . . ." Joffrey scowled. He knew she was lying, she could see it. He would make her bleed for this. "The girl speaks truly," the Hound rasped. "What a man sows on his name day, he reaps throughout the year." His voice was flat, as if he did not care a whit whether the king believed him or no. Could it be true? Sansa had not known. It was just something she'd said, desperate to avoid punishment. Unhappy, Joffrey shifted in his seat and flicked his fingers at Ser Dontos. "Take him away. I'll have him killed on the morrow, the fool." "He is," Sansa said. "A fool. You're so clever, to see it. He's better fitted to be a fool than a knight, isn't he? You ought to dress him in motley and make him clown for you. He doesn't deserve the mercy of a quick death." The king studied her a moment. "Perhaps you're not so stupid as Mother says." He raised his voice. "Did you hear my lady, Dontos? From this day on, you're my new fool. You can sleep with Moon Boy and dress in motley." —ACOK - Sansa I

She-Wolves of Winterfell:

Lyanna and Arya are often referred as She-Wolves in the Books, but in a very subtle and poetical way, Sansa is referred as a She-Wolf too:

He smiled at her. "Now, wolf girl, if you can put a name to me as well, then I must concede that you are truly our Hand's daughter." —AGOT - Sansa I

"I forgot, you've been hiding under a rock. The northern girl. Winterfell's daughter. We heard she killed the king with a spell, and afterward changed into a wolf with big leather wings like a bat, and flew out a tower window. But she left the dwarf behind and Cersei means to have his head." —ASOS - Arya XIII

"May the Father judge him justly," murmured a septon. "The dwarf's wife did the murder with him," swore an archer in Lord Rowan's livery. "Afterward, she vanished from the hall in a puff of brimstone, and a ghostly direwolf was seen prowling the Red Keep, blood dripping from his jaws." —ASOS - Jaime VII

"Your Grace has forgotten the Lady Sansa," said Pycelle. The queen bristled. "I most certainly have not forgotten that little she-wolf." She refused to say the girl's name. "I ought to have shown her to the black cells as the daughter of a traitor, but instead I made her part of mine own household. She shared my hearth and hall, played with my own children. I fed her, dressed her, tried to make her a little less ignorant about the world, and how did she repay me for my kindness? She helped murder my son. —AFFC - Cersei IV

What a kick-ass reputation: Sansa, the wolf that killed King Joffrey!

Fond of Flowers:

Lyanna, Arya and Sansa are linked with flowers:

Ned could recall none of it. "I bring her flowers when I can," he said. "Lyanna was … fond of flowers." —A Game Of Thrones - Eddard I

None of which stopped Arya, of course. One day she came back grinning her horsey grin, her hair all tangled and her clothes covered in mud, clutching a raggedy bunch of purple and green flowers for Father. Sansa kept hoping he would tell Arya to behave herself and act like the highborn lady she was supposed to be, but he never did, he only hugged her and thanked her for the flowers. That just made her worse. Then it turned out the purple flowers were called poison kisses, and Arya got a rash on her arms. —AGOT - Sansa I

It was enough that she could walk in the yard, pick flowers in Myrcella's garden, and visit the sept to pray for her father. Sometimes she prayed in the godswood as well, since the Starks kept the old gods. —AGOT - Sansa V

"Do you require guarding?" Marillion said lightly. "I am composing a new song, you should know. A song so sweet and sad it will melt even your frozen heart. 'The Roadside Rose,' I mean to call it. About a baseborn girl so beautiful she bewitched every man who laid eyes upon her." — ASOS - Sansa VII

Songs:

While Arya likes songs about heroes and adventures:

Arya named hers after some old witch queen in the songs. —Bran II - AGOT

She could stay with Hot Pie, or maybe Lord Beric would find her there. Anguy would teach her to use a bow, and she could ride with Gendry and be an outlaw, like Wenda the White Fawn in the songs. —ASOS - Arya XII

Lyanna and Sansa are linked with singers and romantic songs and stories that move them to cry.

As I said before, the story about Bael the Bard and the Rose of Winterfell resembles Jon’s own story: Bael/Rhaegar (both harp players/bards) abducting/eloping Brandon's daughter/Lyanna, ‘the fairest flower that blooms in the gardens o' Winterfell’. Sansa is also linked with this story, as was explained above.

The dragon prince sang a song so sad it made the wolf maid sniffle. —ASOS - Bran II

Later, while Sansa was off listening to a troupe of singers perform the complex round of interwoven ballads called the “Dance of the Dragons,” [sung in High Valyrian] Ned inspected the bruise himself. “I hope Forel is not being too hard on you,” he said. —AGOT - Eddard VII

She pulled a chair close to the hearth, took down one of her favorite books, and lost herself in the stories of Florian and Jonquil, of Lady Shella and the Rainbow Knight, of valiant Prince Aemon and his doomed love for his brother’s queen. —AGOT - Sansa IV

After the meal had been cleared away, many of the guests asked leave to go to the sept. Cersei graciously granted their request. Lady Tanda and her daughters were among those who fled. For those who remained, a singer was brought forth to fill the hall with the sweet music of the high harp. He sang of Jonquil and Florian, of Prince Aemon the Dragonknight and his love for his brother's queen, of Nymeria's ten thousand ships. They were beautiful songs, but terribly sad. Several of the women began to weep, and Sansa felt her own eyes growing moist. —ACOK - Sansa VI

So the singer played for her, so soft and sad that Arya only heard snatches of the words, though the tune was half-familiar. Sansa would know it, I bet. Her sister had known all the songs, and she could even play a little, and sing so sweetly. All I could ever do was shout the words.—A Storm of Swords - Arya IV

Once, when she was just a little girl, a wandering singer had stayed with them at Winterfell for half a year. An old man he was, with white hair and windburnt cheeks, but he sang of knights and quests and ladies fair, and Sansa had cried bitter tears when he left them, and begged her father not to let him go. “The man has played us every song he knows thrice over,” Lord Eddard told her gently. “I cannot keep him here against his will. You need not weep, though. I promise you, other singers will come.” They hadn’t, though, not for a year or more. Sansa had prayed to the Seven in their sept and old gods of the heart tree, asking them to bring the old man back, or better still to send another singer, young and handsome. But the gods never answered, and the halls of Winterfell stayed silent. But that was when she was a little girl, and foolish. She was a maiden now, three-and-ten and flowered. All her nights were full of song, and by day she prayed for silence. —A Feast for Crows - Sansa I

This is a contrast with Arya who thinks love songs are stupid: Another stupid love song. Lanna was always begging the singer to play her stupid love songs. —AFFC - Cat Of The Canals

So there you have it. There is more to say, but I think I covered the basics.

Thanks for your message.

#anon ask #sansa stark #arya stark #lyanna stark

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champhangman · 4 years

Text

Bleed Into the Night

Title: Bleed Into the Night Part: Five / ? Characters: Hangman Adam Page x OFC Summary: She wasn’t looking. Neither was he. For a brief flash, they found each other. Word Count: 12,222 Warnings: Cursing? Vague medical things in regards to concussions and injuries. Previous: Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | A/N: :)

Tagging: @adampage / @cowboyshit / @baysexuality / @lilmisswhiskeygypsy / @bigpixiefoot / @mindofasagittaruis / @kalliravenne / @sadlittlecountess / @baronsbelleevangeline / @brie-mode-activated / @xbreezymeadowsx / @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch / @allizoneme / @heelsamizayn / @what-does-mine-say / @waywardwrestlewritingwaif / @drewshoneybadger / @mysteryoflovve / @knnyomega / @rampagewriting (I HOPE I got everyone)

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Part Five

Floating.

Falling.

She was doing both. Spinning and watching the ground get closer and closer. Each time she came within an inch of landing, though, the ground disappeared and she began to fall all over again. But after every restart the ground was closer.

Until, suddenly, she slammed into it.

Serena jerked, whimpering as pain rocked through her body. Her head felt as though it were on fire and being squeezed. She tried to reach up, to check it, but her hand wouldn't move. Gasping, she opened her eyes. Tried to turn away from the blinding light.

"Serena?"

She knew that voice. She tried to turn to it, but it was too far away. "Shawn?"

"You're okay, sweetie."

"Light," she croaked, squeezing her eyes shut.

"Hold on." The grip on her hand released. "Don't go back to sleep, honey."

Methodic beeping. She could feel her pulse in her scalp. Could smell antiseptic. The back of her hand was cold, as though someone had placed an ice cube against her skin. "Shawn?"

"I'm right here. The light's off."

The grip returned to her hand. Gentler this time. "Where am I?"

"The hospital. I rang for the nurse, she'll be here to check on you. How you feel?"

She opened her eyes slowly. It was still too bright. And too blurry. But a different blurry from when she didn't have her contacts in. "What?"

"It's okay, Serena…"

Floating. Voices. That steady beeping. Head pounding. The beeping stopped. She heard whispers as she fell to the ground and attempted to call out to them for help but all that came out was a rush of breath as her body landed with a thud.

Shawn again. Her vision cleared enough for her to recognize him standing by her. His raspy voice saying something she couldn't understand above the banging in her head.

Floating.

Slamming.

She jerked, gasping, at the sound of a different voice. She could only make out the tone. Anguish. Other voices, more hushed. Why was he so distressed? Was he upset with her? She had to know. Pushing at the weight lying over her, she frowned when she felt a tug at her hand. She shifted, whining as the movement sent a wave of pain crashing through her head. Blinded with the throbbing, she grabbed at the wire taped to her hand and cried out. Why couldn't she move? Why couldn't she get to him?

A shrieking alarm. Footsteps. An unfamiliar voice, with an unfamiliar face. Gentle hands urging her to lie back. Gloved fingers messing with her hand.

"Is she okay?"

His voice. Clearer now. He was closer. He still sounded so hurt. She frowned. She didn't like him being hurt. "Adam?"

"Serena." It was a gasp. A rush.

Nothing smelled right. She breathed in, tried to catch him. But she couldn't, not until she felt his warm hand on her arm. Then she found his scent. The Pantene shampoo and his deodorant. She moved her eyes over and there he was.

"Serena," he whispered.

She watched him drop down at her bedside. His forehead was creased, his lips turned down into a frown. And his eyes filled with torment. "Adam?"

"You're gonna be okay," he said. Voice as soothing as his hand. "It's okay, baby. It's okay."

Baby? "What are you doing here?"

"Because you are."

"Heart Eyes?" A gentler voice. She recognized it but couldn't look away from Adam. Couldn't stop worrying over the pain in his expression.

"You brought the angel man," she whispered.

Adam's chuckle sounded strangled, like it had caught in his throat. But he still looked sad. She didn't like a sad looking Adam, she decided. He was too beautiful to be sad. Too nice. Too sweet. She lifted her hand, frowning at the tug.

"Hold on." That gentle voice again. Serena hissed as she turned her head to see his face. Kenny leaned to untangle the thin tube, and his smile was one of relief. "How you feeling?"

"Like shit," she whispered.

He patted her arm then backed away. With another hiss, she moved to look at Adam again. Finally able to lift her hand, she brought it to his cheek.

"Hey," she whispered. Talking louder made her head hurt worse. It already felt like elephants were taking turns stepping on it.

"Hey," he whispered back.

There were tears in his eyes. For her? Why was he even there? She frowned. "Did you come all this way because I wouldn't answer your calls?"

"No," he promised, lips twisting into almost a smile. "I came because…"

She felt sleepy and tried to fight it. Tried to keep her hand on his cheek but it was already falling. He caught it between his, and she felt his lips against her knuckles.

And began floating again.

***

"Adam."

He looked up, wincing at the ache in his neck from being bent so awkwardly at Serena's bedside. "Yeah?"

Kenny frowned. "Let's go take a walk, okay? While they examine her."

It was then that Adam saw the other people in the room. He released Serena's hand with care, making sure to uncurl her fingers before pushing himself to his feet. "Sorry," he whispered, shuffling to one side so the doctors and nurses could get to the bed. He stood, looking on, feeling helpless, until one of the nurses yanked the curtain closed. Feeling a hand on his arm, he jumped, looking to Kenny. He still felt helpless. Lost.

"Come on," Kenny said gently, guiding him from the room.

The brightness of the lights in the hallway caused him to squint. A low rumbling sound alerted him to an employee pushing a trash cart, and he nodded dumbly when the man jerked his head in greeting. After the man and the cart had gone, he looked at Kenny.

"You need to rest," his friend said as they began walking down the hallway.

"I'm okay."

"You're dead on your feet."

"I'm better than her," he pointed out, turning quickly when he heard a door open. Seeing one of the nurses come into the hallway, he held his breath, sighing when she plucked a couple of towels from the supply cart next to the door.

"She's gonna be okay. You can't—"

"I know. But I can't go. I can't leave her."

Kenny looked at him sadly. "I'm going to draw on years of knowing you, and letting my own exhaustion tell you something brutally honest."

"Okay?"

"I don't know what she's done to you to make you lose your shit like you have been for the past twenty-four hours, but for the love of all that's good in the world? Fucking tell her it's real to you as soon as she can understand what you're saying."

"I'm planning to," he muttered.

"No you're not, you're planning to just sit there and hold her hand and expect her to figure it out. I know you, Adam. You're not the type to open up unless someone's poking you with a knife."

"I open up to her," he whispered. He had. A little. And each day he was finding that she had chipped away just a tiny bit more at the wall he'd built around himself. "She understands me, Kenny."

"You understand her, too."

He nodded, steps slowing when he saw the glow of a vending machine. Before he could reach into his pocket, Kenny was approaching the machine and feeding money into the slot. Without a word, his friend bought him a soda and handed it over, then they continued their walk. Still silent, they stopped just outside Serena's room. The door was ajar, and Adam wondered what they had found out when they'd done their examination. He knew they wouldn't tell him, which meant he would have to wait until morning to know. It was the waiting that was killing him. The uncertainty. Not knowing for sure if she was really okay.

"You sure you don't want to go to a hotel and crash for a little bit?"

"I'm staying," Adam insisted.

"Okay, okay." Kenny's voice was calm, his expression understanding. "We'll stay, alright?"

"I can't just leave her here alone," he continued. "They won't check on her unless alarms start going off. What if she wakes up and tries to get out of bed? What if she starts pulling at her IVs? What if—"

"Adam," Kenny interrupted. "It's okay. We'll stay."

"You can go," he muttered, scrubbing at his eyes with his hand.

"I'm staying," his friend said softly.

"You don't gotta." He sighed, hating how anguished the sound was to his own ears, and glanced to the open door of Serena's room.

"You're staying to look after Heart Eyes," Kenny pointed out. "I'm staying to look after you."

"Why do you keep calling her that?" he asked, feeling guilty for the smile that tugged at his lips. He had no right to smile.

"Because whenever you talk about her or get off the phone with her, you are literally heart eyes." Kenny smiled. "Go on, check on her. I'll talk to the nurse and see about getting another chair for the room."

"Hey," Adam called softly, grabbing Kenny's sleeve. He needed to thank him. For keeping him from exploding in the locker room. For helping him pack his shit. For getting the Uber and keeping him calm on the long ride. For just being there. He groped inside his brain for the words of appreciation and gratefulness. But all he could manage was, "Thank you."

***

Serena could hear talking again. It was Adam's voice. Her entire body ached so she lay still as consciousness slowly claimed her. Opening her eyes, she saw him perched on the chair next to the bed, the lights on the IV machine casting an eerie glow on his cheek. Behind him, through the blinds, she could see it was still dark outside.

Her hand was cradled between his. She kept her eyes on his face, though, watching his lips move while he spoke in a low voice. As she focused on him she was able to finally catch the words.

"…need you to be okay. Not just for your wrestling. But because…" He sighed, fingers stroking hers tenderly. "You're my girl, Dimples. I know you don't want to be. I didn't want you to be. And if I tell you that, you might laugh in my face… But after last night I can't keep pretending it's not real. I can't pretend I don't want it to be real."

What the hell was he talking about? Wrestling being real? She couldn't understand. Maybe she needed to go back to sleep. Or was she still asleep? That was it, this was a dream. She wasn't in a hospital listening to Adam talk about wanting things to be real while Kenny sat in the corner sleeping. How bizarre. Why would Kenny even come to the hospital? He didn't even know her that well.

She sighed, closing her eyes, and tried to focus on dream-Adam's words.

"…Don't know where this is going… …Don't want to fuck it up… I fuck everything up, Dimples…"

"No," she croaked, frowning.

"Dimples?" he gasped.

"You don't fuck everything up," she promised, forcing her eyes open again. "Turn that frown upside down, Cowboy."

"Cowboy?" he repeated.

"You're my cowboy." She wanted to talk to him. To hear his voice. Even if it was just a dream. "Made it my ringtone and everything."

"What?" Adam chuckled. "What did you make your ringtone?"

"The cowboy song." She cursed her dream self for being unable to remember the name of it. She could hear it, for crying out loud. The gentle guitar. The strings. The lines about wanting to be the only one for miles and miles. Except for… "You, and your simple smile…"

"Cowboy Take Me Away?" he asked.

Oh, but his smile was beautiful. She wanted a picture of it. She wanted to see it everywhere. "That one." She brought her hand up, felt his bearded cheek. "You're really here."

"I wouldn't be anywhere else."

"You really are a good man, Cowboy," she sighed. "I'd be stupid not to really date you. I'd be even stupider not to fall."

"I don't want you to fall, Dimples."

"I like you call me that. Don't stop, even when I wake up, okay? It's cute. It's sweet and fucking makes my heart…" She frowned. "Why don't you want me to fall?"

"I can't have you getting hurt again." He caught her hand when it began to slip and she watched him watch their fingers twine.

"I'm already falling. It doesn't hurt." She felt a sudden wave of giddiness and even though it hurt, managed a laugh. "It feels really good. You should try it. I know you don't want to, though."

"You're not falling."

"Sure I am. Falling for you." She smiled at him, though she knew it wasn't half as pretty as his smile. Then a wave of exhaustion swept over her and she yawned. "Wish I could really tell you that…"

***

Adam watched her eyes drift shut and released a soft sigh. Reaching over, he carefully smoothed the hair from her face while her grip on his hand eased. "I wish you could, too," he whispered. "I hope you can…"

"She okay?" Kenny asked softly.

He pulled his gaze from her and looked to his friend, who was still slumped in the chair. "Yeah. Still a little loopy, though."

"You're her cowboy."

"Not really," he murmured.

"What happened last night?" Kenny asked after a few moments.

Inhaling deeply, he held it in before letting the air out slowly. "She, uh…" He cleared his throat. Reached for the soda Kenny had bought him earlier. It was no longer cold, but it was wet, and gulping down the rest gave him the time to think up an answer that would be vague yet satisfying. "She called me. And, um, she didn't know she was calling me."

"Butt-dial?"

"Something like that."

Kenny frowned. "She wasn't with someone else, was she?"

"No, no, god no," Adam said quickly. Feeling his cheeks start to burn, he was grateful the from was somewhat dark. "She was definitely alone."

There was a long silence. After ripping the label from the bottle and crumpling it into a tight ball, he finally looked over to Kenny to see him rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

He pushed the label into the bottle and tightened the cap, knee bouncing erratically as Kenny continued to be silent.

"I see," his friend finally said.

Adam blinked. "You do?"

"I do."

And that, he realized, was enough for Kenny. He didn't need to go into the details. Didn't need to tell him what he'd heard and done.

Kenny stretched out his legs and slumped down further in his seat. "Wake me if you need me."

"I will." It was enough that he was there. Just his being in the room, even if he was asleep, kept Adam from freaking out. He watched until Kenny's face relaxed with sleep, then turned his attention back to Serena, carefully slipping her hand between his.

Time passed in miniscule increments. He alternated between watching her face and watching the bag of fluid being pumped into her body. He watched the numbers on the screen as her blood pressure was taken. Unable to remember what a good set of numbers were, he asked the nurse that came in to replace the IV bag. Then fretted each time the numbers were higher or lower.

Each time she came to, he felt a rush of relief.

Each time she drifted off, he felt a sense of dread.

But, when she was awake, her words were clearer. She was able to tell him how she felt. That her head felt as though it had been caught in a vice. That she ached all over. Even the smallest bit of light made her wince. And even though her head hurt, she wanted to talk to him. To ask him what had happened to her. He explained as best he could until she drifted off again.

His hand went to sleep but he couldn't bring himself to let go. The pressure of her fingers was his first indication that she was waking back up, and while she was awake, she tightened her hold as though his hand kept her from growing anxious.

The sky was just beginning to brighten when the nurse and a doctor came in to check her over. She awoke easily when they spoke to her, and Adam listened, knee bouncing fretfully, while she said that she couldn't remember what had happened. She couldn't remember going out for her match. The last thing she remembered was talking to him on the phone.

"I'd been avoiding him all day," she went on, and Adam felt her thumb hook tightly around his. "Because I called him last night… Night before? I had called him the night before by accident and he heard me—"

"Dimples," he whispered, ducking his head so the nurse and doctor wouldn't see his reddening cheeks.

"Oh. Sorry," she murmured, looking at him with wide eyes before turning to look at the doctor. "You don't need to know that, huh? Anyway, that's all I remember. And it's just bits and pieces of being here."

Adam reluctantly let go of her hand and moved away so they could examine her, grateful the curtain wasn't snatched closed. Leaning against the wall next to Kenny, who seemed surprisingly wide-awake after napping all night, he looked on while her vision was checked. Looked away when the nurse began to remove the IV. Held his breath as she was asked to sit up and move to the edge of the bed so they could check her reflexes. He exhaled when Kenny placed a hand on his arm, then held his breath again when the doctor asked Serena to stand.

She was a little unsteady, but the nurse supported her, then helped her walk to the bathroom and back to the bed. No, she wasn't nauseated, she just felt a little dizzy. And hungry. That made him smile. And, when the doctor began listing off instructions for when she got home later in the morning, he continued to smile.

His smile faltered when the doctor turned to him.

"Will you be staying with her while she recovers?"

"Of course," he answered, ignoring Serena's look of surprise.

"We'll get a packet of instructions and things to look for," the doctor said, slipping a card from her pocket and handing it over. "If you have any questions, please call or text me, Mr.…?"

"Page." He looked down at the card, hoping he would remember her name in five minutes. "How long do you think it'll be? Her recovery, I mean."

"At least a week. We'll be seeing her again in a couple of days." She rattled off a few instructions, then softened his worry by promising everything he would need to know would be on the printouts. Then, turning to Serena, she said she could go home after breakfast, so they could make sure she didn't have any nausea.

After she left, there was a flurry of activity. It seemed every time Adam sat down someone new came into the room to check something, to ask something, or to see if Serena needed anything.

Her only request was clothes.

"I've got some clean sweats and a shirt you can wear," he offered.

Her smile showed her dimple and he knew she was going to be okay.

***

"I can't believe you sent Kenny to the store with a list," Serena groaned as she lay back against the mountain of pillows Adam had created for her. Smiling when he brought the sheet and blanket up over her legs, she shifted so she was more comfortable. "I have food here."

"Protein and antioxidants," Adam reminded her, smoothing the blanket before stepping back. "Plus he's big on clean eating so he'll get you the best stuff."

"I just want coffee," she mourned.

"I know, but you don't need it right now." He gathered his hair into a bun and secured it. "I'll go get you some water?"

"Can I have something sweet?" she requested. "I bought all that fruit the other day…"

"I can make you a smoothie," he offered.

"That would be great." She reached to tap his arm before he could leave the room. "Hey… Thank you."

"No problem." He leaned over. His lips were cool against her forehead as he pressed the softest kiss to her skin. "Get some rest."

"Not tired," she murmured, even as exhaustion suddenly kicked in. "Can you hand me the remote?"

"No TV. No phone. Rest."

"Can I read a book?"

"Maybe later."

"Thanks, Dad," she muttered.

He chuckled and moved to the windows to close the blinds and curtains. She half-watched, marveling that he was actually inside her apartment, as he moved around the room, brow furrowing when she saw that he was gathering the clothes she'd left lying around.

"What are you doing?"

"Just straightening up."

"You don't have to." A yawn slipped out, and she reached to pull the covers up further. Her head was starting to hurt again. For a little while, after she'd eaten, the pain had eased to an almost-bearable ache. And when she had been wheeled outside to get into the Uber and had breathed in fresh air it had eased a little bit more.

Settling back, she thought of telling him how much she appreciated his being there. How much she had liked waking up and seeing him by her side all night long. But when she opened her mouth the only thing that came out was another yawn, and she sensed she was about to fall asleep when his shadow slipped out of the room.

***

Adam took the empty bowl from Serena's hands and reached to switch off the lamp.

"Don't go," she whispered.

"I ain't leaving," he promised. "Just going to put these away."

"Mm." It was a sleepy sound, and he heard her sigh as he left the room. He moved as quietly as possible, knowing without her telling him that her head was aching. She tried to put up a brave front, but her little winces each time he turned on the light and every time she sat up made it obvious she was in pain. He had finally talked her into taking some Tylenol before she ate some ice cream, and hoped it would at least ease her pains enough for her to get some sleep.

Good sleep, not the drifting in-and-out she'd been doing since her fall.

Her fall. He muttered a curse while washing the bowls and spoons. He'd forgotten to check her staples. She wouldn't be able to wash her hair until the next day, but he had been told to clean the area gently and watch for signs of infection. He had hated cleaning the site, the cloth turning rusty with the dried blood. He'd hated hearing her little gasps of pain, because he loathed hurting her even a tiny bit. Had despised seeing the neat row of metal lines in her scalp.

Drying his hands on a towel, he sighed and debated whether he should just wait until morning. The debate ended in a split second and he tossed the towel on the counter, switching out the light and making his way to the bedroom. He just had to take a peek, he wouldn't have to wake her up to clean it or slather more Vaseline on it. Tiptoeing, because he wasn't used to the layout of her room, he felt his way to the bed, hissing when his toe banged into the nightstand.

"Fuck," he gasped.

"Adam?"

"Fuck," he said again. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake—"

"I wasn't asleep. What's wrong."

"Just hit my stupid toe." He wriggled his toes. "Alright if I turn on the light?"

"Yeah."

When he turned it on, she was sitting up. He frowned. "Dimples…"

"I'm okay. I can't go to sleep."

"You—"

"I'm not sick or dizzy or anything. My head doesn't hurt as much. I think it was the chocolate in the ice cream." She carefully moved her hair behind her shoulders. "How's your toe?"

"Still stupid." He sat on the edge of the bed. "Let me check your staples, okay?"

She made a noncommittal sound but laid back and shifted onto her side. "Do you think you can put my hair up? All I can smell is the hospital."

"Sure." Adam gently parted her hair and leaned close to squint at the row of staples. It all looked as it had when he'd cleaned it. Blinking in hopes of getting rid of the gritty feeling in his eyes, he plucked one of the hair ties from the nightstand and did his best to fashion a loose bun above the staples. Her hair didn't smell like the hospital to him. The locks still held the scent of cocoa and coconut. Sitting back, he rubbed the heel of his palms against his eyes. "You gonna be okay if I go shower? Is it okay if I take a shower? I'm grimy as hell."

She turned to face him, her brow slightly furrowed. "Adam… Of course it's okay."

"Just wanted to be sure."

"Use this bathroom," she said, waving to the open door leading to the master bathroom. "It has better water pressure. And I don't think the other bathroom has any towels, anyway."

"Okay. Try to get some sleep, Dimples."

"I will."

His suitcase was where he'd left it in the small space she called the hall. He dug out what he would need then pushed the suitcase into the little second bedroom, frowning as he gauged the difference between the bed inside and where she was. As exhausted as he was, he didn't think he'd hear her if she woke up and called to him. With a sigh, he hesitated in the doorway of her bedroom.

"You can sleep in here," she said softly. "I don't mind."

"You sure?"

"Positive. Otherwise you'll worry yourself to death over not being able to hear me. Or thinking I might get up to go pee and get dizzy." She gave him a look he couldn't decipher before glancing away. "And I think I'll rest better if you're closer."

He didn't know what to say to that. Didn't know how to take the words. Nodding, even though she couldn't see, he headed into the bathroom to take out his contacts and shower, pausing every few moments to listen. Just in case. He heard nothing, though, and hoped she had finally gone to sleep.

When he came out, though, she was sitting up against the headboard. Still awake.

"I can't sleep," she said in a tiny voice.

Sighing, he moved to the bed. "How come?"

"Every time I think I'm comfortable my head moves a little. Or the pillow sinks and makes my staples hurt." She was twisting her fingers, wringing them together in her lap. "And I keep worrying that if I go to sleep I'll jerk awake and hurt worse than I already do."

He wished they'd given her something stronger for the pain. Something strong enough to help her go to sleep. Though he understood why they hadn't and doubted she would have taken it willingly. He grabbed the pillows that weren't behind her and stacked them against the headboard before crawling in next to her. Once situated, he covered her jittery hands with his. "C'mere."

She moved slowly, as though unsure, and he could feel the anxious tension in her body as he guided her to lie on his chest. She shifted, curling close. And when her leg slid over his he tucked his arm around her.

"I won't sink," he murmured.

"Thank you." She was quiet for a moment, hand sliding to rest over his heartbeat. "…Adam?"

"Mm-hmm?" He needed to turn off the light. It would require moving, but it had to be done.

"Sing for me?"

He smiled. "You need a lullaby, huh?"

"Sing me something from The Chicks," she requested, and even though he couldn't see her face, he knew she was smiling. "Please."

"Well, since you said please…" He sighed and pulled his arm from her. Just long enough to stretch and turn off the lamp. He wrapped it around her as soon as the room was dark and waited until he felt her relax before he began to sing.

He knew his singing wasn't anywhere near good, as tired as he was. His throat was tired and scratchy. But he did his best, stumbling over the words when she joined him for the last line of the chorus.

"I wanna walk and not run. I wanna skip and not fall…" He carefully smoothed his hand over her hair. "I wanna look at the horizon and not see a building standing tall. I wanna be the only one for miles and miles, except for maybe you and your simple smile…"

"Oh it sounds good to me," she sang softly, fingers idly tracing over his chest. "Yes it sounds so good to me…"

His heart squeezed when she joined him in the chorus. Covering her fidgeting hand with his, he felt it twist until their palms rested against each other. Their fingers spread at the same time, and he marveled at how perfectly her hand fit in his. How, when their fingers twined, it felt as natural to him as breathing.

"Adam?" she murmured. Sleepiness made her voice soft.

"Yeah?"

"You're my cowboy." She snuggled closer, pressing her cheek just above his heart. "I didn't want you to be. But you are."

"I am?" he asked.

"Mm-hmm."

"Dimples?"

"Mm?"

"I wouldn't wanna be anybody else's." He dipped his head, pressing a kiss into her hair.

"Mm…" In the darkness, he could feel her smile. Her thumb hooked around his. "Good."

"Goodnight, Dimples," he whispered.

She didn't reply immediately. Then, just when he was certain she'd gone to sleep, she whispered, "Goodnight, Cowboy."

***

Despite the dull ache in her head, Serena awoke feeling refreshed. She was warm and almost cozy feeling, as though she'd been wrapped in a warm blanket all night long. She sighed, and the firm mattress beneath her head lifted slightly. When had she gotten soft jersey cotton sheets?

"Mornin'."

Her eyes snapped open. Oh. Right. She was sleeping on Adam. There wasn't a blanket over her, it was his arm. That wasn't a jersey cotton sheet, it was his t-shirt. Her hand wasn't tucked under the pillow, it was tucked between his hand and the steady thump of his heartbeat. With the blink of an eye it all came rushing back. Concussion. Staples. Adam with her in the hospital. Adam coming home with her. Adam waiting on her. Adam crawling into bed with her.

Adam singing sweetly so she could go to sleep.

"Morning," she murmured. Stretching out her legs, she felt the thickness of his and was about to move away from him when she decided she didn't want to. She wanted to enjoy the cocoon of warmth that his body offered.

"You slept all night."

"That's good, right?"

"Yeah. It's good."

She looked at his hand over hers. "…I need to pee."

His chuckle rumbled through his chest. "C'mon."

There was something embarrassing about having to be helped out of bed. She was used to just rolling out and doing what she had to do. But just sliding to the edge made her feel weak. So, when he offered her his hands for support, she accepted them. Her head spun as she stood, and she gripped his hands tightly until her balance restored.

Adam frowned. "Okay?"

"Just a little dizzy. It went away quick," she promised, not wanting him to worry more than she knew he already was. Still holding his hands, she took a tentative step away from the bed and breathed a sigh of relief. "It's gone."

Still, he held onto her hand until she was in the bathroom. Then he stood just outside the door while she used it. She moved slowly, not wanting the dizziness return, and when she saw her reflection in the mirror she grimaced. There was still makeup on her eyes from… Had it been the night before last? Turning on the water, she reached for a washcloth and her face wash.

"You okay?" he called, knocking gently on the half-open door.

"I'm fine. Just washing my face."

"What do you want for breakfast?"

"Coffee."

"Try again."

"Iced coffee?"

"Dimples…" There was a gentle thump against the door and she knew he'd banged his forehead against it.

"Anything you fix is fine," she answered with a sigh. "But I'd really, really like some coffee."

"How do you like your eggs?"

"Sunny side up."

"Alright."

Serena washed her face slowly, frowning when it occurred to her that he was still outside the door. "Are you going to cook?"

"Once you come out."

"You really are a sweetheart, you know that?" she asked after drying her face and nudging the door open.

"I keep telling you I am, I don't know why you're so surprised."

"When can I take a shower?" she asked after he helped her back into the bed.

"Later." He adjusted the pillow behind her head. "I'll go get your breakfast."

She nodded, eyes drifting to his ass as he walked out. Funny, she thought absentmindedly, how it looked firmer in a pair of pajama pants. Firm enough to bounce a quarter off. Biting her lip, she glanced to the nightstand on the off chance there was change there. Of course there was none, and she wasn't about to fling a water bottle at him. Besides, she didn't have the nerve to toss a quarter at his ass either, did she?

She grabbed the water bottle and took a sip, wishing he'd handed over her phone so she could at least text her parents. She vaguely remembered talking to them the day before, after Adam had tucked her into bed and she'd said she wanted to call them. He had told her she'd talked to them while at the hospital but she couldn't remember that. Could only remember her mother's concerned voice, and her father's worry. And Adam's gentle voice as he promised them he would be there to take care of her.

She could smell coffee. Was he making it for himself? Knowing he wouldn't give her any?

"Bastard," she muttered under her breath, reaching to undo the bun. At the last second she thought better of it, not wanting to smell her dirty hair. Her fingers inched to the back of her scalp and she tentatively touched the staples, shuddering with revulsion. She needed coffee. She was sure it could clear some of the cloudiness from her brain.

To hell with it. She pushed her legs over the edge of the bed and sat up. No dizziness. That was good, right? Her gaze slid to the papers on the dresser, which Adam had read through countless times the day before, answering the questions she had whenever she was awake enough to think. Surely she wasn't supposed to completely avoid caffeine. It was her number one vice. Her only addiction. Besides, she'd had chocolate ice cream, and didn't chocolate have caffeine?

"What are you doing?"

Serena blinked stupidly. "Going to the kitchen?"

"Why?"

"To get—" She saw the mug in his hands. The aroma of coffee was suddenly overpowering and she felt her mouth water. "What's that?"

"I fixed you coffee."

"You did?" she whispered. Now her eyes were watering.

"I figured if I didn't, you'd drag your ass to the kitchen and fix it yourself." One corner of his mouth lifted. "Obviously I was right."

"Yes, yes, you're a genius when it comes to my psyche. Now gimme."

"Get in bed."

"Coffee."

"Bed."

With a huff, she backed up until she could sit on the edge of the mattress. Coffee. She needed the coffee. She made grabbing motions with her hands. She didn't even care if he'd put enough sugar and creamer in it. For once, she wouldn't care if it was pure black. She just needed… Sighing as her hands wrapped around the warm mug, she closed her eyes and breathed in the decadent fragrance. She slowly lifted the mug for a sip, a tiny moan escaping after the first taste. Heaven, she thought, lowering her head to savor the flavor.

"That good?" he asked with a soft chuckle.

"It's perfect," she whispered, feeling a lock of hair slip across her cheek.

"You told me you like a lot of sugar and cream."

"I did?" She couldn't remember that. But it didn't matter. The coffee was perfect and he was perfect and she should never have called him a bastard.

"Yesterday when you were begging for coffee." His fingers swept the lock of hair behind her ear, lingering before sliding away. "You stay here and enjoy that while I fix your eggs."

"I will," she promised. She wasn't going anywhere until she'd enjoyed every drop.

"You want some toast?"

She nodded, mouth full of coffee. After swallowing, she sighed with satisfaction. She could already feel the fogginess starting to clear. "Butter and jam, please."

"Bacon?"

"Absolutely." She was starving. Lifting her head, she smiled up at him. And was happy when he smiled back. "Could I eat in the kitchen?"

"Dimples—"

"I don't want to be in bed all day. I'll go crazy."

"Okay," he relented. "How about you eat on the couch?"

"Sure."

"I'll come get you when it's ready."

"Yes, sir," she murmured. She thought she caught a glimmer of something in his eyes before he left the room. Deciding she hadn't, she focused on enjoying her coffee.

By the time she finished it she could smell bacon. She could hear him talking. Had he called her parents again? She looked to the clock on the nightstand. No, too early for her parents. It was barely six in California, and they didn't get up until after seven. She supposed they could have gotten up early… Her curiosity got the better of her and she got to her feet to make her way to the kitchen.

She could smell citrus. Blinking, she stopped in the living room, eyes sweeping the room. It was neat. The coffee table was clear, the blankets she kept on the couch were neatly folded and lying over the back. The bits and pieces of stuff that she left lying around – extra phone charger, lip balm, hand cream, hair ties – were all in the basket on the end table that she always intended to keep them in. Her bookshelf had been straightened. The shoes she always left in a pile near the door had been arranged. There was a laundry basket in the armchair, and she could see that it contained folded clothes. And, she realized, digging her bare toes into the carpet, the floor had been vacuumed.

"What the hell," she muttered under her breath. When had he done all that?

She pushed forward to go into the kitchen, drawing in a breath to ask him when he'd cleaned. But she stopped when she saw him standing in front of the sliding glass door. His head was bent, his phone to his ear.

"Look, I know it's shitty timing, but…" He sighed. "I need to stay here, alright? My girl needs me."

His girl. The words warmed her more than the coffee had.

"Her folks are in California. And all her friends around here are from work, which means – Right. Right. Yeah." He was nodding at whatever the person he was talking to was saying. "Yup. She's better. Not sick or anything. I just can't leave her, y'know? Not 'til I know she's gonna be alright."

Oh, he really was a goddamned sweetheart.

"Thanks, Tony," he said with a sigh of relief. "I'll let you know how she is in a few days – What?"

She loved the way he said what. Especially when his Virginia accent thickened and it came out as drawled wut as it was now. And can't always came out as cain't. She loved that, too.

She loved—

"Alright. Sorry I woke you up, Matt…" He laughed. "Yeah, you're right. I'm not. Bye, ya'll. Thanks."

He lowered his phone and looked at the screen for a moment. And suddenly she didn't want to disturb him. Didn't want him to know she'd overheard part of his conversation. Backing up, she was about to turn when he moved away from the door. He glanced over, saw her, and did a double-take.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Being nosy wouldn't be a good answer, she supposed. So she went for the second reason she'd left the bedroom. "It's lonely back there."

"Dimples—"

"I know, I know, I need to rest. But I'm wide-awake now. And I'm starving. And I didn't want you to have to come all the way back there when I can obviously get to the living room without help." She pressed her lips together, a little surprised at her outburst. "Who were you talking to?"

"Oh… Matt and Tony." He looked almost embarrassed. "I, uh… I got the next week off. So your folks don't have to come all the way out here? And so somebody can be here with you—"

"Oh, Adam…"

The empty mug fell to the floor with a soft thump and she moved forward. He met her halfway, muttering that she shouldn't be moving so fast, but all she cared was that he accepted her embrace. He returned it, arms wrapping snugly around her, and her eyes stung with tears when she felt him curl over so his face was pressed into her hair.

"I'm sorry I'm a bitchy patient," she muttered against his chest.

"I don't expect you to be an angel when you're in pain," he promised. His hands smoothed up and down her back. She felt his lips push deeper into her hair. "Go on, get on the couch and I'll finish your breakfast."

She ate every bite on her plate, and even stole two slices of his bacon. He rolled his eyes and playfully swatted her hand away. Then, with a sigh, he slipped another slice onto her plate. They didn't talk much while they ate and for that she was grateful, because her head was starting to ache again. From sitting up so long, she surmised. Watching him carry the dishes into the kitchen, she pulled her feet up onto the couch and laid her head back.

"Here," he murmured. She lifted her head and saw him holding a steaming mug. "Some herbal tea. The doctor said it would help, remember?"

"Thank you." She didn't remember, but he had no reason to lie. Her memory of the doctor was mostly vague, foggy snippets. She pulled her feet closer to her body and took the mug.

"And take this, I know you're head's hurting," he said, dropping two Tylenol into her free hand.

"How did you—"

"You get this little wrinkle here." He indicated the space between his eyebrows. "It came back while we were eating."

Damn, he was observant. With a nod, she took the pills and swallowed them down. She supposed after she drank the tea, he would want her to go back to bed. She wondered how many days of rest she had to look forward to. In the same moment she reminded herself that however many days of rest she had, she would at least have his wonderful, comforting company.

Adam yawned. A large, loud yawn that ended with a soft groan. He mumbled an apology, and she frowned when he rubbed the heel of his palms against his eyes.

"You can go to bed," she said after taking a sip of her tea. "I'll be alright."

"Nah, nah, I'm good," he murmured, stretching his arms above his head before letting them flop.

"Have you slept?" she asked, frown deepening. There were dark shadows beneath his eyes. She knew he'd showered. She had no clue. Those first hours were a fog. Coming to consciousness and feeling his arm around her. Drifting off to the sound of his voice.

"I got a nap. How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," she promised. And she was. If she held her head up too long, she got a bit of a headache. But she was fine. She hadn't gotten sick anymore. She hadn't gotten confused or had any problems with her vision. And she hadn't felt dizzy. "Adam…"

"I'm just gonna close my eyes for a few minutes." He leaned his head back against the couch and sighed. "If you need something kick me."

"Adam," she groaned, slowly leaning over and tugging on his sleeve. "Lay down."

"I'm fine," he insisted.

"You're dead on your feet and making me feel guilty about it. At least stretch out on the couch." She shifted, pushed her feet onto the coffee table. Patting her thigh, she motioned for him to lie down.

With a groan, he turned and stretched out, slowly lowering his head into her lap. Just before his cheek hit her thigh, he stopped. "You sure?"

"Rest, cowboy," she insisted.

He turned onto his back, and she found it oddly adorable how his blonde curls spilled over her thigh. "I'm not gonna go to sleep."

"Just rest," she murmured. Unable to resist, she smoothed her fingers over his brow. Until the deep furrows lessened and she heard his sigh. Leaning, she placed her mug on the end table and then brought her other hand to his head, smiling down at him when his eyes slowly drifted shut.

"That feels good," he said softly, stretching his legs out.

"Shh." She wanted him to get some rest. Couldn't fathom him staying awake just because of her. Couldn't bear to think that her stupidity and clumsiness had caused him to lose precious sleep. He had to be exhausted. Not to mention sore. When her fingers slipped to his temples he groaned softly and she paused. "Do you have a headache?"

"Little bit. But it's okay."

She rolled her eyes and gently began to massage his temples. Rewarded with another groan and a deep sigh, she kept at it. Until she felt the tension in his body ease. Until his fingers stopped drumming his chest. Until his face relaxed with slumber.

She smoothed her fingers along his jaw, hesitating briefly before allowing her thumb to lightly caress his cheek. His head turned slightly, cheek pressing tighter against her palm, and she felt her heart jump.

"I do like you, Cowboy," she whispered. She felt liberated for admitting it, even if he was asleep and wouldn't hear her. Which was probably why she had the nerve to utter the words. "How could a woman not fall in love with you?"

Especially after the past twenty-four hours. Even though she had been completely out of it, the sight of him rushing in her hospital room was burned in her memory. The worry. The anguish. The way his hands shook when they held hers. The hoarseness of his voice when he'd asked how she was. She would never forget the elation that had risen in her from just seeing him there. Or how waking up to see him sitting at her bedside, hands folded beneath his chin, lips moving silently in a fervent prayer, had made her heart swell.

There were other memories. Or perhaps hallucinations. She couldn't be sure because they weren't as clear. But she thought she had come to at one point and heard him saying words sweeter than any prayer.

You're my girl, Dimples. I can't pretend I don't want it to be real.

She couldn't, either.

She frowned, wondering when it had all changed. And how she hadn't fully realized until now.

He hadn't said anything about his feelings for her since she'd been released from the hospital. He'd told her how worried he'd been when he'd heard the news, and how he had worried all night long. How he was so glad she was going to be okay, that it could have been so much worse. And she couldn't even be sure if some of those admissions were real or if she'd dreamed them. But he didn't have to say them. Not really.

Because he'd been showing he cared every moment.

Insisting he would stay with her. Making her bed with fresh sheets. Washing the blood from her staples. Cooking for her. Cleaning for her. God only knew how many phone calls he'd answered for her while she drifted in and out. He'd done everything for her, short of carrying her to the toilet. And hadn't complained once.

No wonder he was exhausted. When had he last slept? Really slept. The night before she'd gotten injured? He'd said he'd napped, but that didn't count. It was a miracle he hadn't collapsed.

He sighed in his sleep. His body shifted, rolling up onto his side, and he burrowed his face into her thigh, his hand sliding to clutch her shirt.

His shirt. She was still wearing the clothes he'd given her to wear home from the hospital. She remembered joking that she was glad he was thick, because otherwise her hips would never have fit into his sweatpants. She remembered his little frown when she'd said that, and wondered suddenly if the words had hurt his feelings.

She stroked his hair. Ran her fingers gently through the curls, which were softer than a man's hair should be. Let his locks wind around her finger. Smoothed it back from his face. And when she heard a gentle snore from him, she smiled. Reaching for the blanket on the back of the couch, she dragged it over him, wanting him to be as comfortable as he possibly could.

When he woke up, she would make him go to bed. If she had to, she would tie him down. She blinked at that thought and pushed away the non-sleepy images that flashed in her mind. Grabbing the other blanket, she bunched it up to make a pillow and tucked it in the corner so she could rest her head.

And slept.

***

"You sure you're feeling up to this?"

Serena sighed. But Adam could tell it wasn't with annoyance. "Yes. I'm sure. I've been cooped up in my place for a week—"

"Hey, you've seen the doctor three times."

"Doesn't count. Anyway, I need to get out. Breathe the air. Enjoy the sunshine."

"You're such a country girl at heart," he said with pride. "Alright, let's go."

"Where are we going?" she asked once they'd gotten into the car.

"A place." He handed over her sunglasses, not wanting the bright sun to cause a headache. She hadn't had one in days, but he couldn't keep from worrying over her. He had a feeling he would worry even more when the time came for him to leave. He had an even stronger feeling that he would never stop worrying for her.

He had another feeling, too. That he knew what all this worrying about her he was doing meant.

"Where is this place?"

"Down the road."

"Oh god," she groaned. "You're really not gonna tell me?"

"I will, but damn is it fun to torture you," he said with a grin. "We're going to the lake."

"The lake," she repeated. Her brow creased. "Adam, there's a million lakes around here."

"It's about an hour away." He cleared his throat. "We're not going on the lake. Just… To it."

"Like a public beach?"

"Tony has a little cabin," Adam said. "He's letting us use the place for the day. Well, okay, it's not little, it's actually bigger than my house, but to him it's little. I figured you'd enjoy getting out of town for the day, though, and there's—"

He was silenced when she leaned over the console and flung her arms around him. Grunting in surprise, he immediately brought his arms around her, smiling when her lips met his cheek in an exuberant kiss.

"I take it you like the idea?" he asked, turning to kiss her cheek in return.

"I love it." She kissed his cheek again before sitting back. "There's what?"

"Huh?"

"You were gonna say there's… Something?"

"Oh!" Grinning, he finally put the car in reverse and backed out of the parking spot. "There's a big yard with lots of shade, so I thought we'd have a picnic for lunch."

"Damn," she murmured. "I'm impressed."

"Me too," he admitted. "I didn't think a lake house would be that big a deal."

"It's not the lake house. It's… It's you wanting to do something special for me."

"You went through hell, Dimples," he reminded her, arm dropping onto the console once they were on the highway. "You deserve special."

Her hand slid into his, and her head leaned against his bicep. "You've been giving me special all week."

"Maybe you just deserve special," he murmured.

She hummed at that. "I might start believing that one day."

Which meant she didn't already believe that. That soured his mood, but he squeezed her hand. And when she reached to turn on music he didn't complain, having learned that after revealing just the smallest of insecurities she had to do something to shift the focus. So he kept his arguments to himself, letting her drag him into singing along with the upbeat, happy songs she played.

"This is little?" Serena blurted when he parked at the end of the gravel drive.

"I told you," he sighed.

"Can we go see the lake?" she asked, already climbing out of the car.

"It's quicker to go through the house," he called after her when she headed across the grass.

She turned on her heel and skipped up the steps to the door, bouncing with excitement while he pulled out his phone to find the code Tony had texted him. "He said the cleaner hasn't been out in a few weeks so it might be dusty."

"It's probably cleaner than my place was when I moved in," she muttered.

He laughed, because she was probably right, and pushed the door open after punching in the code.

"Tell him he's a big fucking liar," she said as soon as they entered.

"Oh, sure, lemme just text my fucking boss that he's a fucking liar, that'll go over great," he drawled, reaching to turn off the alarm with the second code Tony had sent him. Once it gave a quick beep and all the lights went off, he closed the door and let her pull him through the house. He didn't see more than a blur of the rooms before they were going out the front door and onto the large deck that overlooked the lake.

"Holy shit," she breathed, stopping at the top of the stairs that led down to a small dock.

He agreed. The lawn was terraced but rolling, and only at the stairs could they see the lake through the large weeping willows. The grass looked an almost impossible shade of green and was scattered with dandelions. There was a sweet, almost heady scent coming from the flowering bushes around the deck, and he could smell the aroma of pine trees and dirt and, faintly, meat being cooked on a grill.

They walked down to the dock together, hand in hand, and even when they reached the end of the dock and she leaned to dip her toes in the water he didn't let go. He didn't let go when she sat to swing her feet through the gently lapping current. He didn't let go when he sat next to her. He didn't let go as she laid her head on his shoulder. Or when she tucked her other arm around him.

"This is beautiful, Adam," she whispered.

He pulled his gaze from the top of her head. He hadn't been able to see much. Just her bright hair and the dark roots she had started to complain about, and the tip of her nose. He barely glanced at the water, at the boats speeding across the way, at the swimmers bobbing in the wakes. Looking back at her just as she tipped her head back, he felt his breath catch in his throat. "Yeah, you really are."

She blinked. "What?"

"You're beautiful."

She started to pull away, but he caught her arm before she could. She shook her head.

And for the millionth time, he cursed the asshole that had crushed her to the worst depths of hell. "Dimples—"

"I'm not beautiful."

"The fuck you ain't." The words snapped from his mouth with force and he watched her pretty eyes widen. "Look, I don't know who the fuck made you feel less than gorgeous, but they fucking lied, alright? Whatever they said, whatever they did, it don't change the fact that every time I look at you, you take my breath away. It don't change the fact that I get lost in your eyes. That… That… And don't you dare say I'm only saying this to be nice. I ain't that nice. I don't care what anyone else says or thinks. When I look at you, I see beautiful."

There were tears in her pretty amber eyes. "Adam…"

"I didn't want to at first. But every time I look at you I see something that makes you even more beautiful. Like that dimple. And your eyes. Or the way you can lift one eyebrow. How your nose wrinkles when you laugh. Or…" He lifted his hand, faintly tracing the curve of her upper lip. "Or how your lip does that curve…"

She tried to duck her head but he gently caught her chin, needing her to keep looking at him. And when he saw a tear slip free he frowned.

"Don't cry, Dimples."

"No one's ever called me beautiful," she whispered brokenly.

His frown deepened. "No one?"

"Oh, I've been told I'm pretty. Or cute. People love to call me cute." She reached to swipe the tear away. "But I've always been the funny one, you know? The smart one. 'Hey, let's bring Serena, she's a fun time' and that kind of stuff. N-never…"

"Beautiful," he said.

"That."

"Not even your family?" He'd talked to her parents half a dozen times during the past week. Had found them to be friendly, caring, and just as vibrant as their daughter. When Serena had had them on speakerphone, they'd said several times how much they loved her and how proud they were of her. The thought they hadn't called her beautiful made him like them a little less.

"They don't count." She sniffled. "They love me as family. They have to think I'm beautiful."

"I'm sorry," he murmured, resting his forehead against hers briefly. He slid his hand to her cheek, brushing away another tear that had slipped down. "I'll just keep telling you you're beautiful until you believe it."

"You—" She cut off with a sharp gasp. "You don't have to put on the act out here, Adam."

"It's…" Bewildered when she pulled away and got to her feet, he dragged his hand over his face and hopped up. "You think I'm lying to you?"

"No. But you don't have to keep saying it."

"Why the hell not?"

"Because it's not true!"

"What's not true?" he asked, confused. Hadn't he just explained to her how she was beautiful?

"None of this. You've been…" She threw her hands up and waved them as though she couldn't think of the right word. "Ever since the hospital."

"I've been what?"

"Different."

"How?"

"Sweet. Affectionate. Like you care."

"I—"

"And I have to keep reminding myself that it's not real. And I don't know if I said something that made you think you had to treat me like a queen all week or…" She looked at him, panic in her eyes. "Did I say something?"

"You were saying some strange stuff, Dimples," he admitted with a shake of his head. He didn't want to bring them up. Didn't want to run the risk of her saying she hadn't meant any of it. Didn't want the rejection he could sense coming. Didn't want to ruin the great day they were having. Although it looked as though it were already ruined.

"I know that. Cole said I sounded high as a kite. But what was I saying?"

"It's not important."

"Cowboy." The worry in her eyes caused his heart to squeeze. "I need to know. It's… It's like I got drunk and don't remember. But worse. At least when I've gotten drunk, I had people around to tell me what stupid shit I did and said. And you not telling me… Was it bad? Did I say something mean?"

"No," he promised quickly. "Dimples, baby, no. You were… Spaced out. Your brain got rattled. What you said isn't important because it was like a drunken confession. Not to be taken seriously."

"Adam. Drunken confessions are, most of the time, the person's true feelings. Haven't you let your feelings bare when you've gotten drunk?"

"I'm a quiet drunk," he admitted, taking a step toward the stairs. "C'mon, let's get back, okay? I don't want you to do too much."

"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what I said."

"God you're stubborn," he muttered, turning to face her. "Okay. Fine. You want to know what you said? You said I was your cowboy. You said a lot of stuff. How you like smelling me. That you like when I call you Dimples. How you'd be stupid to not date me. That you'd be stupid to not fall."

Her eyes widened and her hand slid from his. "I…"

"And you said I should try it, too."

"I…" It was a croak. A faint squeak. She looked shocked and embarrassed and, he thought, still had the ability to be the most adorable woman he'd ever had the pleasure of looking upon. "What?"

"You wanted to know," he said. Waiting. Hoping she would say she meant the words. That her rattle-brained confession had been true. But she just stood there. Staring up at him. Still with that look of shock on her face.

Then her face shifted. Her eyes softened. "You said some stuff too, Adam."

He'd been looking down at his feet and jerked his head up suddenly. "What?"

"You probably thought I was asleep. But I was in and out of it. And I heard a lot of things." Her eyes softened further. "You prayed for me."

Adam drew in a breath. He'd prayed harder and more than he'd ever prayed in his life. He didn't like thinking of those nerve-wracking moments between when he'd learned she'd been injured and had seen her for himself. Didn't like remembering the anguish and worry that hadn't gone away until he had held her hand and looked into her eyes. Unless dragged into one by Nick and Matt, he rarely prayed. But it was all he'd done that night, in between his ramblings to her while she slept.

Right now he was praying she hadn't heard any of his blathering.

"Yeah, I prayed for you," he said, catching the lock of hair that danced against her cheek and sweeping it back. "It was all I did from the second I heard you were hurt."

"You said other things."

"Did I?"

"I think you did. Or maybe I was dreaming." Her brow furrowed and he couldn't help but smooth his fingers over it until the creases eased. "Adam, I don't know if you really said what I heard or if I dreamed it or if it was some hallucination, but…"

"What did I say?"

"I can't remember all of it." When his hand moved to her cheek she leaned against his palm and sighed. "Just bits and pieces like how you couldn't take it if I was badly hurt. And you knew you weren't supposed to but you like me. And how I didn't need to get you a shirt because you bought one when you came to the show that night to see me."

She smiled. That pretty smile that did things to his heart and his stomach. But her eyes were still troubled. Which only made him want to pull her into his arms and reassure her that everything would be okay. And that, if she wanted him to, he'd always be right there to help her make things okay again.

"And you were talking to someone. A nurse I think?" She frowned again, one hand coming up to cup his wrist. "She was talking about you being there all night and you said…"

He knew what he'd said. Could remember the scene perfectly. Serena lying in the bed, seemingly asleep. The nurse coming in to check her vital signs and adjust her IV. Smiling at him and saying she was surprised he hadn't fallen asleep.

Not until I know for sure it's minor. Holding her hand in both of his. Feeling her fingers squeeze occasionally. The softness of her palm against his lips when he'd kissed it. She's my girl, you know. I need to make sure she's okay.

The nurse, cooing that Serena was a lucky woman, then leaving and closing the door. He couldn't remember what she looked like, or even how her voice had sounded. Because he'd been too busy focusing on Serena. And the little smile that had pulled at her lips when he'd called her his girl.

"You said I was your girl," she whispered.

"I did."

"And when you called Matt and Tony the other day. You said you had to stay because your girl needs you."

He hadn't known she'd overheard that. He'd thought she'd been asleep on the couch. Nodding, he allowed his thumb to sweep over her cheek. "I know what I said, Dimples."

"I hate this," she groaned.

His heart snatched in his chest. And he began to pull away from her. "I'm sorry—"

"No, no!" She tightened her grip on his wrist. "I hate not knowing. I hate that the lie and the truth have gotten so twisted and turned around I can't tell them apart anymore. I hate that it took a fucking concussion for me to admit I actually do like you and that it took the concussion for you to say like me, too."

"What do you want, Serena?"

"I don't know. I-I don't want to pretend anymore. But I don't want to force this…whatever we've got. Every little step has felt so natural and genuine. At least, to me it has. I like this." She gestured between them. "And I don't want you saying you like it too just because my head bounced off the apron. I want… I want honesty. I want baby steps because I'm scared to death."

"Why are you scared?" he whispered, frowning.

"Because I think I like it too much," she gasped.

"C'mere." He pulled his wrist from her grasp and spread his arms. Folded them around her as soon as she stepped into them. Closed his eyes so he could enjoy the sensation of completeness that settled over him each time she was in his arms.

***

Serena enjoyed their picnic lunch, despite the air of incompletion hovering around them. It wasn't an elaborate meal. Just sandwiches, potato salad he'd made using his mom's recipe. For dessert he'd baked cookies. She smiled as she ate them, remembering his fumbling answer when she'd asked why she could smell cookies that morning. There was a jug of sweet tea to wash it all down, and he'd even packed some peaches he said were from his favorite farmer's market.

Sitting on the soft blanket in the shade of the largest weeping willow, she enjoyed the heavily dapped sunlight and the fresh breeze that rolled up the hill from the lake. She enjoyed the birdsong and the music playing softly from his phone. She enjoyed a full belly and his quiet, comforting company. She enjoyed that he'd indulged her and blown dandelions before they ate. She enjoyed looking over and seeing him, leaning against the tree trunk looking worthy of the cover of some romance novel.

"Dimples?" He said the nickname softly, as though fearful of disturbing their enjoyment.

"Yeah, Cowboy?" She liked how his smile widened when she called him that. Liked how it made his eyes crinkle. Liked that he always looked down as though a little embarrassed by the nickname. Loved that when he raised his eyes again they shone with happiness.

"What we were talking about earlier…" He took a sip of his tea and brushed cookie crumbs from his lap. "About us?"

Us. She loved being us. "What about us?"

His eyes brightened and she thought that, maybe, he liked being us too. "I wanna try."

"You… You really want to try?" she whispered, scared to speak louder. She feared that if she raised her voice to even a normal tone it would ruin the moment.

He reached forward, thumb sweeping her cheek. "I do. If you think we should. I mean… We seem to be doing alright, don't we? We have for a few weeks now."

"Yeah." There was a dandelion seed caught in one of his curls. She reached to pluck it away, the light breeze carrying her gasp away when he turned his head and lightly kissed the inside of her wrist. "I mean, really, nothing's changing. Right?"

"Well I sure as hell hope I get to kiss you now, but no, nothing's really changing."

"Now?"

"Now… In a little while, when we go back inside. Later, when we get back to your place. Tonight, before you go to sleep… Tomorrow, after we wake up."

"That many times, huh?" she murmured.

"Well," he drawled, kissing her wrist again before stretching out on the blanket. Head propped on his elbow, he grinned up at her. "We've got a lot of catching up to do, y'know."

"Oh we do?" She knew she had to have the stupidest grin on her face. In fact, she seemed to have that grin on her face a lot lately. "How do you figure that?"

"Dimples," he sighed, grin widening as she moved to lie next to him. "We've been seeing each other for weeks now. I know you keep saying I'm old-fashioned, but I do try to get a kiss in after the first couple of dates."

"Ah, but our seeing each other doesn't count because we weren't really seeing each other," she pointed out. "Therefore, your reasoning is flawed."

"Okay, fine," he grunted. "How about we both deserve a kiss?"

"Do we?"

"You helped me cum," he whispered. "And, going by what I heard, I helped you, too."

Her eyes widened and she tried to pull oxygen into her lungs. "Wh-what?"

"I'm sick of dancing around it," he muttered. "You called me. On accident, I guess. And I heard you. I heard you…"

She almost laughed at the way his cheeks reddened and he waved his hand. "You heard me masturbating."

"Y-yeah."

"It was an accident," she admitted, finally sucking in a deep breath. Pulling her knees to her chest, she wondered if wishing she couldn't remember that night made her a bad person. "I was… Worked up from being around you all night. And… Okay, fine, I was looking at the pics you sent me of you in your new gear. And, well… I had to get off. I guess when I put my phone down, I hit the screen to call you. I'm sorry. I didn't know until after."

"Don't apologize."

"Right, because you really wanted to hear me fingering myself—" She jerked her head up and stared at him. "You came, too?"

"I was keyed up from being around you all night. Maybe I shouldn't admit it, but listening to you turned me on. And when you screamed my name?" He licked his lips in a way that made her long to feel his tongue on her. "I came hard, Dimples."

"Oh."

"I was gonna try to talk to you after, but I hung up. And I didn't want it to be weird so I didn't call you back. And—"

"So you texted me," she whispered.

"Yeah."

And, suddenly, she had to know. "Did you think of me?"

"Yes."

That gave her a thrill. Slowly, she lowered her knees and dragged her tongue over her lips.

"I thought about it being my fingers instead of yours. Thought about you moaning for me. Thought about how good you'd feel under me," he whispered.

She didn't know where the courage came from. Had she not known him better, she might have thought he'd spiked the tea. She took a sip just to make sure, then set her cup down next to the cooler. Her teeth caught her bottom lip and, watching him sit up slowly, she swallowed. "You wanna find out?"

#adam page fanfiction #hangman page fanfiction #aew fanfiction #multipart:BITN #my fics #adam page #hangman adam page

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miss-tc-nova · 4 years

Text

A SOLDIER’s Memories - Cloud Strife x Fem!Reader Pt 11

Bit cliche, but I love it.

Part 11: Acknowledgement

One Week Later…

I failed; and now here I lie in the darkness, banished to the furthest corner of my mind while Sephiroth uses me. I’m a terrible excuse for a hero, unable to vanquish my greatest foe for a third time. Now the planet will perish, taking what I love most with it. I don’t know what I hate more, the fact that I couldn’t win or the fact that I couldn’t get over Cloud. I tried everything to keep him at arm’s length, not to let him get to me, but even in the end all I want is to see him one last time.

The echo travels forever to reach me, but the tone is familiar. It sounds again, a little closer. “Stop!”

You shouldn’t have come here… My thoughts are so heavy and bogged.

“You are not his puppet!”

Just let me die. I’m so tired of fighting.

“You can’t give up now!” Flashes of Cloud’s face flicker in my mind. “Are you gonna let him win?!”

There’s nothing I can do about it. I tried. I failed.

“Are you gonna let some maniac with a god complex beat you again?!” I can see him, brandishing his sword, holding back mine. “Are gonna let him tear us apart again?!”

Those words spark something. Cloud?

I shove him back but he skids to a halt. My legs rush for him. He readies his sword, but a thrown khopesh ties it up and pulls it out of the way. The second is prepared to strike him down from above.

“BECAUSE YOU OWE ME! NO EXCEPTIONS!”

My arm swings forward; however, instead of cutting through the blonde, my hand flips the blade, sending it right through my stomach. His words gave me just enough of a shock to break through.

“_____!”

The pain is enough to bring my sanity back and also bring me down. Knees hitting the ground, I watch the tears drip into the dirt.

“Look at me. Look at me!” Cloud’s hands against my face bring my gaze up. The look of worry in his eyes grips at my heart. “I thought you were gone.”

“I’m sorry,” I cry.

His forehead rests against mine. “I know. I know it wasn’t you. But you’re gonna be okay. I’m gonna end this and we’re gonna get you some help.” Carefully, the man lowers me to my side. “Just don’t go dying on me okay,” he warns, pulling the belts from his waist.

“I don’t know if I can promise that.” My voice breaks.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he growls. I wince as he tightens the first belt just below my weapon. The second goes just above, placing pressure on the injury without removing the protruding object. “Just hang in there. You’re gonna be fine.” His voice softens, tightening the vice in my chest. “You have to be.”

“Cloud…”

“No! We made a bet and you lost! You owe me one favor and you’re not allowed to die! No exceptions! Say it!” The man is determined with a hint of fear in his voice. “Say it!”

I swallow the sob threatening to come up. “No exceptions.”

His gaze softens, full of the love I’ve been missing for so long. “I’ll be back soon.”

With that, Cloud stands and heads deeper into the Northern Cave. I break down crying. This is the end and I just lied to him. I want so badly to call him back, have him here in my last moments, but I can just watch him walk away from me for the last time.

Why did it have to be now of all times? Why do you remember at the very end?

Alone, in mourning, I slip away from the conscious world.

~~~~~

“Hey, you’re slacking.”

“Huh?” I’m blinded by the white world around me.

“You’re slacking. Come on. You can’t be here when you’re supposed to be taking care of that legacy of mine.”

A pair of boots stops in front of me. Following them up, I find a friend I haven’t seen in years and it breaks my heart.

“Zack.” I take a step forward, throwing my arms around his neck. Laughing, he returns the gesture. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

I lean back to get a better look at his face. “Wait…are you…”

His weary smile is answer enough. “Yeah.”

That single word is enough to break my composure. “I’m sorry.”

Zack pulls me back in. “Hey, it’s not your fault. Besides, I’m not alone.”

“What?”

“I hope we don’t get any other visitors.” Her voice rings in my ears like an angel’s. Whirling around, I find the flower girl standing there with a serene smile on her face. I can’t help embracing her just as I had Zack.

“No no no! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” I blather on.

She giggles. “Why are you blaming yourself? Thanks to you, Cloud and the others could save the world.”

My mind jolts. “Cloud…He’s going to be so upset when he finds me.”

Zack folds his arms. “Well you did let him carry on with warped memories.”

“Not that…” I let my gaze fall to the flowers around us. “I told him I’d hold on but I just couldn’t.”

“But aren’t you still holding on?” My gaze snaps back to my friend. A grin lights up his face. “Wait, you thought just because you’re here that you’re dead?” He laughs like I’ve just told a punch line to some joke.

I hesitate, my gaze zipping between the two. “But the both of you are…So I must be…”

“Nope.” A hand ruffles my hair. “You’re just here for a visit. I told you you were slacking. That chocobo is worried sick down there waiting for you to wake up.”

When I hesitate in responding, Aerith leans closer with her signature, sunshine smile. “Just open your eyes.” I dwell on her answer. “Go on. He’s waiting for you.”

“Thank you,” I mumble watching the waving pair fade to darkness.

~~~~~

I wake up feeling sore but somehow better. The weight in my chest, that’s been there for so long, is gone. The fact I’m alive, that the world still exists, and my future is brighter, it all brings tears to my eyes.

This is a hospital room. I’ve got an IV and blood bag in my arm and a heart monitor disrupting my peaceful silence. I contemplate doing something, ultimately being too lazy to do so and instead rest a bit longer.

A light knock wakes me. The door opens before I can answer, revealing a blonde that brings tears to my eyes. He looks exhausted. His blank expression holds as he sets a bag on an empty chair and sits in the one beside my bed; he must’ve been doing this for a while. The emptiness instantly replaced by shock when he realizes I’m watching him. I’m so overwhelmed with relief that I can’t even say anything, fearing my voice will fail. Back on his feet, he’s leaning over me, arms threatening to choke me with his face buried in my hair. I managed to hold on, but when I hear the man sniffling, I fall apart.

“I don’t know how I ever could’ve forgotten you,” he murmurs, spurring my sobbing. Finally, he leans back to get a look at my face. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You thought you were Zack and something about even looking at me freaked you out. I was afraid that if I reminded you, you might break.” Hands to my face, I try to slow the flow of tears. “Even if I reminded you there was no guarantee you’d accept it.”

“You should’ve told me.”

I mutter bitterly, “Why? So you’d have another reason to hate me?”

A chilly hand slips around my face, guiding my gaze to meet his, and he’s very serious. “Because you never should’ve had to deal with that on your own. Even if you had to beat it into me, I would’ve believed you eventually.” Sighing, his hand retreats, instead sliding through his golden hair. “It made more sense than the nonsense I was telling everyone.”

Cloud tells me about what happened and why he claimed to be Zack; of course Shinra would be behind the whole thing. At least it gives me some closure about what happened to him and Zack, but I have to wonder why I didn’t become a test subject too. I have to chalk it up to not being discovered by Hojo after the Mako carried me away.

“So what’s everybody doing now?”

“Going home.”

“What does that mean for you?”

He shrugs. “It means where ever you wanna go.”

My mind freezes and I’m kind of pissed that the heart monitor betrays the slight pace change of my heart. Even though his blue eyes travel to the machine that’s quickly becoming an enemy, I try to ignore it. “Why?”

His attention returns to me. “Because there are things we need to work out.” His hand takes mine and I curse that machine again. “Including what we’re going to do about us.”

That’s an iffy subject I’ve been arguing with myself over for a long time now. “I don’t know.” He frowns. “We’re a far stretch from the people we used to be.”

His thumb draws soothing circles against the back of my hand. “Even if we are different people, maybe we still fit together.”

I emit a puff of laughter. “Your tragedies to compliment mine?”

Cloud’s deep wondering lightens somewhat. “More like I’m pretty sure I’m still in love with you.” Fire surges up my spine, burning in my ears and bleeding across my face. I’m about to throw the heart monitor out the window. A soft chuckle escapes the blonde. Slightly aggressively, I reach into my gown, ripping the little patches off. “Hey hey! Be careful,” the blonde scolds through a grin. I stick my tongue out at him but he’s none deterred. “I forgot how cute you look when you blush.”

And I forgot just how easy it was for him to make me blush.

But maybe he was right; people grow and change, whether together or apart. He’s not the Cloud I fell in love with, but perhaps that doesn’t mean I can’t love who he is now. I was focused on what I lost and terrified of having it flaunted in front of me only to be torn away again; it probably would’ve haunted me for the rest of my life. But he remembers now, he can relate and understand; I don’t have to hide anything from him anymore. The conversations I thought we’d never have now seem far less frightening.

“So is that no?”

Feeling the lightest I’ve felt in a very long time, I let a pure, true smile take over. “Get me out of here and then we’ll talk about where we’re going next.”

#cloud strife #cloud x reader #cloud strife x reader #ffvii cloud #ff7 cloud #fem!reader

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petertingle-yipyip · 4 years

Text

Where Happiness Begins - Peter Parker

Chapter Nine: Used To Be

// WHB Masterlist //

//Series Inspo: @stuckonspidey @cxptain-capsicle // Series Tags: @writingsbychlo @mc225g @fandom-princess-forevermore @istg-lyssa-stop @olliekookie @rosegoldhome @chubsluda @missmulti @eternaleviee @freerebel @peterparker-glee-other @disgustangg @jackiehollanderr@imsobored3000 @eridanuswave @drunklili //

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Word Count: 14,475

Summary: Five years is a long time, but it’s time that Tony takes to rebuild his life and his family. He never forgot his oldest daughter, but he did learn to move on. When Steve comes to him asking for help, can Tony get things back to they way they Used To Be?

Things weren’t what they used to be on Earth. No one understood the full extent of what was lost. Half of humanity was gone, that much was the easy part to understand. But what no one knew how to cope with, was why it was the people they loved.

Tony hated that Y/N and Peter were gone. Steve hated that Bucky, and as far as he knew, Tony was gone. Okoye had lost T’Challa and Shuri. Rocket lost all the Guardians. Sam, Stephen Strange, Wanda, and millions of others had turned to ash in front of their friends and loved ones. There is no way to cope with that. And Pepper… Pepper didn’t know what she had lost.

Nebula and Tony were left to find a way home from Titan. They were the only two on that planet that survived. While Tony was friendly to Nebula, he couldn’t ignore the hollow feeling in his chest. The place where his daughter had been, where the ghost of his daughter is.

“What was her name?” Nebula suddenly asked. They had been playing finger football, a game so ordinary that it felt out of place to do in that ship. “Your daughter.”

“Y/N.” Tony said softly. “Her name is Y/N.”

He emphasized the word ‘is’. His brain was refusing to admit that she had disappeared before his eyes. He loved her. He raised her. He had done everything in his power to protect her, and he still failed her. He knew that he should’ve sent her home the minute he sent Peter home. But that didn’t work for the kid either.

Thinking of Peter hurt Tony almost as bad as thinking of Y/N. He remembered that he had told Y/N not to get too attached to Peter because he wasn’t meant to be a permanent addition to their lives, but he ended up finding a place in their hearts. A place in their family.

“I’m sorry you lost her.” Nebula said earnestly, despite her voice being the same monotonous voice she always used.

“Yeah… Me too.” He nodded carefully. “So you won!” He exclaimed, feigning happiness. He didn’t think he could sit and talk about Y/N any longer. It was still so fresh, the image of losing his only daughter. “Have fun?” Tony asked, offering his hand to shake.

“It was fun.” Nebula nodded, shaking his hand.

That was less than a week after Thanos and the battle on Titan. It was pushing the three week mark, maybe even beyond it, by the time he was able to gather the strength to make the message he was dreading. He leaned forward to tap the side of his damaged helmet.

“Guess I should say something, huh?” Tony sighed, a heavy sadness falling on him. “I don’t know, Y/N/N, maybe there’s nothing to say. You’ll never get the chance to see this, and maybe that’s my fault. This is just so I know that I said it to you, even if you can’t hear it…

“Y/N, honey, I’m sorry. I wish more than anything I could’ve saved you. Because you and your mother were what got me out of bed everyday. You were undoubtedly the best thing to ever happen to me. And if I had the chance, I’d trade my life for yours.

“Oh, man. This is hard. I love you, so so much. More than I could ever put into words… But I guess you did that when you were a kid, huh? Forever and ever... Just didn’t think there’d be an end to our forever.

“Well, I’m not gonna bore you with the details of what’s going over here. Just wanted to check in and let you know that I love you and I really messed up time. I failed you, and I have to live with that… Just- Just know that when the inevitable catches up to me and I can’t pull an ace out my sleeve - that ace was usually you - that I’m gonna think about you. Love you, Cupcake.”

Tony ended that message and decided he had to deliver one more. There was someone else who needed to hear Tony’s voice, for possibly the last time.

“This thing on?” He opened with. Tony wanted to leave a message for Pepper, praying that she was okay. But a different part of him was afraid there was going to be no one to receive the message. “ Hey, Miss Potts... Pep. If you find this recording, don't post it on social media. It's gonna be a real tear-jerker. I don't know if you're ever going to see these. I don't even know if you're... if you're still... Oh god, I hope so.” Tony didn’t think he could cope with losing his wife and daughter. “Today is day 21, uh 22. You know, if it wasn't for the existential terror of staring into a void of space, I'd say I'm feeling better today. The infection's run its course, Thanks to the blue meanie back there. You'd love her. Very practical. Only a tiny bit sadistic. Some fuel cells were cracked during battle, but we figured out a way to reverse the ion charge to buy ourselves about 48 hours of time. But it's now dead in the water. We're 1000 light years from the nearest 7-11. Oxygen will run out tomorrow. And that'll be it... And Pep, I- I know I said no more surprises, but I was really hoping to pull off one last one. But it looks like... well you know what it looks like. Don't feel bad about this. I mean, if you grovel for a couple of weeks, and then move on with enormous guilt. I should probably lie down. Please know that... when I drift off, I will think about the two people that meant the world to me… And that’s you and Y/N.... Because it's always you two.”

Nebula helped Tony off the floor and into one of the seats. She even got him a blanket. Nebula knew there was nothing left to do for Tony. There was no way to get the Benatar back to Earth, and no way to help Tony. He would die in the middle of nowhere in space, alone.

As Tony was drifting off, a bright light shone in his face. He tried to ignore it, but it grew brighter and brighter until he couldn’t ignore it. When he opened his eyes, he saw a woman. A woman with blonde hair, a red and blue suit, and glowing a strange blue glow. But Tony didn’t care to ask how she found them. Maybe she could get them home. He felt hope in his chest, a feeling he hadn’t felt in weeks.

And that was exactly what she did. The mysterious space woman was able to guide the Benatar back to Earth, more specifically to the Avengers Compound. Inside was Steve, Nat, Bruce, Pepper, and Rhodey. The incoming ship caused the compound to shake, steadily picking up intensity until the Benatar landed. Nebula helped Tony out the ship and down to the ground as Steve ran to his friend to help.

“Couldn’t stop him.” Tony managed as he walked with Steve.

“Neither could I.” Steve admitted. Steve glanced behind Tony, expecting to see Y/N right behind him.

“I lost the kids.” Tony mumbled, saying it out loud to someone who wasn’t there to see it made it feel fresh again. The image of his daughter disappearing mid-sentence and then the image of Peter disappearing in his arms flashed in his mind.

“Tony, we lost.” Steve said, hoping to console and show solidarity.

“Is uh..” Tony couldn’t ask the question. He couldn’t get his brain to ask Is Pepper alive.

“Oh my god!” Pepper said, rushing to Tony so she could hug him tightly. “Oh my god!”

“It’s okay.” Tony said gently as he held her close. And for the first time in nearly a month, something actually was okay.

Tony now sat inside, an IV inserted into his arm as everyone tried to brief him on what he missed on Earth. The words Rhodey spoke held no weight in Tony’s frazzled mind. Behind his friend were projections, images that resembled mugshots. Images that showed the people that were gone. Some were smiling, like Peter’s, while others were more serious, like his daughter’s.

“It’s been 23 days since Thanos came to Earth.” Rhodey began.

But Tony’s mind wandered. He saw things that were his daughter’s. Her childhood drawings were still on the fridge. Her picture was still hanging on the wall. A framed photo of her and Peter was still on the desk. The mask plate to her first suit was still on the corner of her desk, right beneath her computer screen.

“So where is he?” Tony asked, suddenly full of anger. Full of pain.

“We don’t know.” Steve shrugged. “He just opened a portal and walked through…. Tony, you and Y/N fought him.”

“What?” Tony asked in shock. “Who told you that? No, he wiped my face with a planet and used my daughter as a punching bag while the Bleecker Street magician gave away the Stone. There was no fight, alright? He’s unbeatable.”

“Did he give you any clues?” Steve pressed. He knew he shouldn’t have. He knew he should’ve let Tony rest and ask questions later. But his own grief was pushing him to continue, pushing him to find some sort of lead. “Any coordinates? Anything?” Steve was practically begging.

“I saw this coming a few years back.” Tony said casually, in an ‘I-Told-You-So’ type way. “I had a vision… I didn’t wanna believe it. Thought I was dreaming. You know, I told Y/N about it? And she was ready to wade through Hell and high water with me, if that’s what it took.”

“Tony, I’m gonna need you to focus.” Steve tried to steer Tony back to the present.

“And I needed you.” Tony emphasized. His anger now to a point that he didn’t care to try to control. “As in past tense. Oh, and so did Y/N. Did you know she looked for you for weeks after Germany?”

“No, I didn’t know.” He admitted sadly. “But you knew. Why didn’t you tell her?”

“Because obviously, we can’t count on you for anything.” Tony replied simply. “But that trumps what you need. It’s too late, buddy. Sorry.” Tony shrugged weakly. “You know what I need? I need to shave. And I believe I remember telling all youse-” Tony’s balance faltered as he went for Steve, but Rhodey was able to catch him. Rhodey tried to calm Tony, but the stubborn man continued his rage fueled rant. “Alive and otherwise what we needed was a suit of armor around the world! Remember that? Whether it impacted our precious freedoms or not- that’s what we needed!”

“Well, that didn’t work out. Did it?” Steve snapped. He understood that Tony was in pain, that Tony was grieving arguably more than he was. But Steve wanted to find a way to bring everyone back, to fix what they couldn’t stop. “We’ve got to do something. We owe it to those people-”

“I don’t owe anybody shit!” Tony countered angrily. “I owe my daughter a future. I owe Peter a future. But I can’t give it to them now, because you were too concerned about our freedoms. Look where that got up, Cap.” Tony said, his arms out to the side in a grand gesture.

“I said we’d lose.” Tony continued, his voice no longer full of rage. Instead, his voice was soft, the voice of a man who had given up. Who had lost everything. “You said ‘We’ll do that together too’. And guess what? We lost. And you weren’t there… But that’s what we do, right?” Tony’s anger was resurfacing as his daughter’s face flashed on the holograms again. “We’re the Avengers, we’re the Avengers. Not the Pre-vengers?”

“You made your point.” Rhodey tried, hoping to settle his unstable friend. Rhodey knew Tony better than anyone, could read him better than everyone. He could see the grief in his face, the loss in his eyes. Tony had been through a lot in the past ten years, since Loki first came to New York. But losing his daughter and the kid he had been mentoring at the same time, in the same way, that was a whole different kind of hurt. A kind of hurt that no person deserved. “Just sit down, okay?”

“Nah, nah.” Tony scoffed. “Here’s my point. You know what?”

“Tony, you’re sick.” Rhodey tried again.

“She’s great, by the way.” He pointed to the mysterious space woman. He learned her name was Carol Danvers, an Air Force pilot from the 80’s who had gotten her powers by exploding a Kree reactor. “We need you. You’re new blood. Bunch of tired old mules!” He ranted as he crossed the room to stand face-to-face with Steve. “I got nothing for you, Cap. I got no coordinates, no clues, no strategies, no options. Zero. Zip. Nada. No trust. Liar.” He spat, the venom soaked his words. Tony didn’t care to be polite or kind. Tony didn’t care about anything anymore. He pulled his housing unit off his chest and slammed it into Steve’s hand. “Here. Take this. You find him, and you put that on. Then you hide.”

“Tony-”

“No, cause that’s what you’re good at, right?” Tony mocked. “Hiding? Running away when people need you the most? You lost someone a month ago? So what. I lost my daughter. I don’t care who you lost. It’s not the same. So don’t talk to me like it is.” After that sentence, Tony fell to the floor, losing consciousness on the way down. But he dreamt of her.

You’re twelve years old, designing your own suit. You aren’t planning any of the specifics. You don’t worry about the technical aspects or the functionality of it. You are more concerned with what it would look like. You draw a suit like your dad’s, red with gold accents and the centerpiece of a glowing, blue Arc Reactor. You draw the suit without the mask, filling it in with your own face instead.

“Dad?” You ask, running up to his desk and waving your paper at him. “Dad, when can I be a superhero? I want to be like you!”

Tony laughs a little, picking you up and placing you in his lap. He stares at you with a delighted smile and proud eyes. He doesn’t know how he got as lucky as he is, but he thanks the universe everyday that he has you. “How about this?” He says happily, sliding the glove he’s working on onto your hand. The glove tightens to fit your skinny wrist, lighting up and moving with your hand. “This is a starter piece. When you build the rest of the suit around it, you can be a superhero.”

“Do I get a superhero name?” You ask excitedly, posing heroically with your dad’s glove. “Something cool, like yours!”

“Nope, you don’t get to copy mine.” He shakes his head with finality. “You’ve gotta come up with your own.”

“But I want something cool like yours..” You whine.

“How about this? You can buy it for the low, low price of a million dollars.” He offers with a wink.

You huff and cross your arm, thinking of a counter offer. “How about my dessert for the next month and I promise to only put on the suit when you need help. I’ll be your sidekick!”

“Hmm, no.” He shakes his head, putting you back on the ground and pulling the glove off your hand. “Nope. Iron Man works alone.”

“But Tony Stark works with Y/N Stark.” You counter with a coy smile. “So it’s not ‘Iron Man’ working with anyone. It’s like father-daughter bonding!”

“Father-daughter bonding.” Tony laughs. “That’s a good one. I’ll use that on your mom later when she asks why you’re always drawing suits.”

“You’re the best.” You smile.

“I know.”

“I love you, Dad.”

“I know.”

“Forever.” You hold your hand out for him to take.

“And ever.” He grins, taking your hand. You two lift your joined hands up and then come back down, solidifying your promise. No matter what happens, you know you’ll always love and trust you’ll dad. You’ll follow him anywhere, help him with anything. And Tony knows just how amazing you’re going to be, and he couldn’t be prouder.

Outside the room where Tony rested, the others talked about going after Thanos. They had managed to pinpoint where Thanos was, thanks to Nebula’s help. Bruce tried to reason with the small group, acknowledging that they were lacking in numbers. Carol was the one who suggested using the Stones to bring everyone back. While it seemed unlikely, impossible even, the Avengers knew there was no other option.

Later that day, everyone except Tony was aboard the Benatar and headed to Thanos. But they were too late. Thanos had used the Stones to destroy the Stones, leaving no chance of changing what he had done. The only outcome that had any effect was that Thor decapitated the Titan, offering himself closure but no real comfort.

There were no options left, no hope. No second chances. All of those that were left had no choice but to move on, to start over. But no matter how much time passed, there was a void in everyone’s hearts. A void that no amount of time could heal, that no new people could replace. But people had to try.

Five years had passed. Five years since Tony had watched Peter and Y/N fade away. He could finally talk about her without wanting to cry. He could remember her fondly instead of painfully. He could tell Morgan about her without feeling like he was leaving her behind. He wouldn’t say he felt whole again, but he had learned how to live with the hollow feeling. He knew Pepper was beside him, feeling the same emptiness that he did. But Tony would argue that he felt it deeper since he watched her go, since he heard her final sentence be cut short.

Tony wandered his property, clapping his hands. He had hoped that would’ve gotten their attention.

“Chow time!” He announced happily. But when he got no response, he called her name. “Maguna? Morgan H. Stark. You want some lunch?” He sat on a log near a small tent, waiting for Morgan’s appearance.

She came out of the tent wearing an all-too-familiar helmet. “Define lunch or be disintegrated.” She responded playfully.

“Okay, you should not be wearing that, okay?” Tony said, gently taking the helmet off her head only to be greeted by a mischievous smile that reminded him of Y/N. “That was a part of Y/N’s first suit designs. She was very proud of this.”

“Okay.” She nodded.

“Are you thinking about lunch?” Tony continued his original conversation. “I can give you a handful of crickets on a bed of lettuce.” He teased.

“No.” Morgan laughed.

“That’s what you want.” Tony joked. “How did you find this?”

“Garage.”

“Really? Were you looking for it?”

“No!” She responded quickly. “I found it, though. Y/N had all the cool stuff.”

“Yeah, she did.” He smiled fondly. “You like going to the garage, huh? So does daddy.. It’s fine, actually. Y/N hadn’t touched that thing since she upgraded.”

As Tony was walking Morgan back into the house, a black car rolled up. Steve, Scott, and Nat exited the vehicle. Tony hadn’t heard from them since he returned to Earth five years ago, so he knew whatever they wanted to talk to him about wouldn't be anything he had wanted to be involved in.

They talked on the porch, Scott explaining his wild idea.

“Now, we know what it sounds like…” Scott tried to reason.

“Quantum fluctuation messes with the Planck Scale, which then triggers the Deutsch Proposition. Can we agree on that?” Tony offered. The three looked between each other, visibly confused, as Tony handed each of them a drink.

“Thank you.” Steve quickly added politely.

“In Layman’s terms, it means you’re not coming home.” Tony simplified.

“I did.” Scott defended.

“No, you accidentally survived.” Tony corrected. “It’s a billion to one cosmic fluke. And now you wanna pull off a… What do you call it?”

“A time heist.” Scott chuckled.

“Yeah, a time heist.” Tony nodded. “Of course, why didn’t we think of this before? Oh, because it’s laughable? Because it’s a pipe-dream?”

“The Stones are in the past. We can go back and get them.” Scott pushed.

“We can snap our own fingers.” Nat added. “We can bring everyone back.”

“Or screw it up worse than he already has, right?” Tony countered.

“I don’t believe we would.” Steve said honestly.

“Gotta say, sometimes I miss that giddy optimism. However, high hopes won’t help if there is no logical, tangible way for me to safely execute said time heist,” Tony said firmly. “I believe the most likely outcome would be our collective demise.”

“Not if we strictly follow the rules of time travel.” Scott defended. “That means no talking to our past selves, no betting on sporting events-”

“I’m gonna stop you right there, Scott. Are you seriously telling me that your plan to save the universe is based on Back to the Future?” The fact that it was reminded Tony of Peter, the way he made plans based on what he saw in movies.

“No.” Scott answered, now embarrassed.

“Good. You had me worried there.” Tony nodded. “Cause that’d be horse shit. That’s not how quantum physics works.”

“Tony..” Nat pressed. “We have to take a stand.”

“We did stand.” He replied sadly. “And yet, here we are.. Some of us, anyway.”

“I know you got a lot on the line. You got a wife, a daughter. But I lost someone very important to me. A lot of people did.” Scott desperately said. He practically begged for Tony’s help. “And now- now we have a chance to bring her back. To bring everyone back. And you’re telling me you won’t even-”

“That’s right, Scott. I won’t even. I got a kid.” Tony agreed. “I already lost my daughter, five years ago. She would’ve been twenty two this year, but I watched her turn to dust. So, no. I won’t.”

“Mommy told me to come save you.” Morgan said as she ran up to her dad, who picked her up easily.

“Good job, I’m saved.” He told her before turning to Steve. “I wish you’d come here to ask me something else. Anything else. Honestly, I- I missed you guys, It was… Oh, and the table’s set for six.”

“Tony, I get it.” Steve spoke up. “And I’m happy for you. I really am. But this is a second chance for all of us.”

“I got my second chance right here, Cap.” Tony sighed. “I can’t roll the dice again. If you don’t talk shop, you can stay for lunch.”

“You think if it was the other way around, and you were gone, Y/N would say no?” Steve tried.

“You think Y/N would risk all of your lives just for me?” Tony scoffed.

“I think Y/N would take on Thanos by herself if it meant she could get you back.” Steve said simply. “You were everything to her and you know that. If there was even the slightest chance to get you back, she would do it.”

“She was a kid.” Tony argued, careful not to raise his voice since he was holding Morgan still. “She’d be stupid to try your Time Heist. The answer is no, Steve. I’m sorry, but I’m not losing again.”

Later that night, Tony was washing dishes after dinner. He had accidentally rinsed a spoon with too much water, and it shot out on the surrounding photo frames. When he was drying them off, he realized it was the photo of him, Y/n and Peter took with his Stark Internship certificate. The excitement in Peter’s eyes was obvious, as was the admiration in Y/N’s. He figured he might as well run some numbers, see what the actual probability of the Time Heist was.

“And don’t worry if it doesn’t pan out. I’m just kinda-” Tony rambled as F.R.I.D.A.Y. completed the sim.

“Model rendered.” Her automated voice said, showing a 99.987% success rate.

“Shit!” Tony exclaimed with a chuckle.

“Shit.” A small voice repeated from behind him.

“What are you doing up, little miss?” He whispered.

“Shit.” She repeated.

“No, we don’t say that. Only Mommy says that word. She coined it, belongs to her.”

“Why you up?”

“Cause I got some important shit going on here.” Morgan gave her dad a look. “What do you think? No, I got something on my mind… I got something on my mind.”

“Was it Juice pops?” Morgan asked excitedly.

“Sure was.” Tony nodded. “That’s extortion. Great minds think alike. Juice pops, exactly was on my mind.” Tony said, leading Morgan to the kitchen after glancing at the rendered model one last time.

After the two got their Juice Pops, Tony brought Morgan back to her room.

“That face goes there.” Tony said, pushing Morgan’s face into her pillow.

“Tell me a story.” Morgan said tiredly.

“Once upon a time, Maguna went to bed. The end.”

“That’s a horrible story.” She laughed.

“C’mon, that’s your favorite story.”

“Tell me a story about Y/N.”

“A story about Y/N..” Tony repeated. He thought of what story to tell Morgan. He had so many amazing memories with his daughter, so many laughs, so many triumphs. But there were just as many pitfalls. Every high had a low. “Once upon a time, there was a girl named Y/N. She was super smart and crazy popular, just like her dad. She wanted to be a superhero. She wanted to help people. But she wanted to help her dad the most. And she did. She helped her dad everyday from the moment she woke up to the moment she fell asleep. And then she did it all again the next day. But then, she had to go. She didn’t want to, but she had to.”

“She coming back?” Morgan asked, her eyes half shut.

“Love you tons.” Tony smiled, not wanting to promise anything. Tony wasn’t even sure he wanted to do anything with his successful model.

“I love you 3000.” Morgan replied.

I love you forever. And ever.

“Wow.” He whispered. “3000. That’s crazy… Go to bed or I’ll sell all your toys.”

He went downstairs and found Pepper, reading a book on composting. He tried to listen, but his attention kept shifting back to the successful model that still illuminated his table.

“I figured it out, by the way.” He interjected, unable to keep it in any longer.

“You know, just so we’re talking about the same thing-” Pepper said, wanting to make sure she knew what he meant.

“Time travel.”

“What?” She asked in obvious amazement. “Wow… That’s amazing and terrifying.”

“That’s right.”

“We got really lucky.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“A lot of people didn’t.”

“No, I can’t help everybody.”

“It sort of seems like you can.” Pepper pressed. “Or at least help the person you even considered this for.”

“Not if I stop.” Tony countered. “I can put a pin in it right now, and stop.”

“Trying to get you to stop had been one of the few failures of my life.” She joked. “And so was trying to get Y/N to stop..”

“I sometimes feel I should put it in a locked box and drop it at the bottom of a lake… Go to bed.”

“But would you be able to rest?” She offered gently. “Tony, you did all of this because there’s the chance that you can get our daughter back. I know that’s why you did it. And I also know that you’ve hardly gotten any real rest in the past five years. You’re happy with Morgan, but you still need Y/N.”

“She was the best parts of both of us.” He smiled fondly.

“And the worst parts of you.” Pepper joked.

“She was not!” Tony said, feigning offense.

“She was just as stubborn as you are!”

“I can get her back..” He whispered, as if the words hadn’t truly set in yet. There was a viable chance to bring Y/N back. And he had to take it. “Morgan is gonna love her.”

“Morgan already loves her.” Pepper laughed.

The next day, Tony rode over to the Compound. He was conflicted still. Yes, he had the chance to get his daughter back but was it worth risking the daughter he had now? Tony would have to make sure that he didn’t lose what he found. As he drove up, Steve was waiting outside, seemingly distraught.

“Why the long face?” Tony asked as he rolled down his window. “Let me guess. He turned into a baby.” Tony teased, jumping out the car and heading to the trunk.

“Among other things.” Steve answered hesitantly. “What are you doing here?”

“That’s the EPR Paradox.” Tony explained. “Instead of pushing Lang through time, you pushed time through Lang. It’s tricky, dangerous. Someone should’ve cautioned you against it.”

“You did.”

“Oh, did I?” Tony joked. “Thank God I’m here. Regardless, I fixed it.” He proudly lifted his newest toy. “A fully functional time-space GPS. I just want peace.” Tony threw up a peace sign. “Turns out resentment is corrosive. I hate it.”

“Me too.” Steve agreed.

“We got a shot at getting these stones, but I gotta tell you my priorities. Bring back what we lost? I hope to God, yes. I’d absolutely love to have Y/N and Peter back. Keep what I got? I have to, at all costs. I can’t lose another kid, Cap. And… maybe not die trying would be nice.”

“Sounds like a deal.” Steve smiled, offering his hand for Tony to shake. “We’re gonna get her back.” Before heading inside, Tony pulled something else out of the trunk. He had a new shield for Steve.

“Tony…” Steve hesitated.

“Why?” Tony questioned. “He made it for you. Plus, I don’t think Y/N would recognize you without it and I need to get it out of the garage before Morgan takes it sledding.”

“Thank you.” Steve said honestly.

“Will you keep that a little quiet? Didn’t bring one for the whole team.” Tony stopped and turned to Steve. “We are getting the whole team, yeah?”

“We’re working on that.” Steve replied.

Tony worked with Bruce and Scott to design the Quantum Suits. They resembled the Ant-Man suit with Stark styling. Nebula contributed the helmet design. She said Peter Quill used the same tech. Tony jokingly called her friends the Rings of Uranus. The only thing left was a test run, to which Clint volunteered for.

After the test was successful, they had to figure out when to go to get the Stones. Nat and Clint went after the Soul Stone, Thor and Rocket for the Reality Stone, Bruce for the Time Stone, Tony and Scott for the Tesseract which contained the Space Stone, Steve went for the Mind Stone, and Rhodey and Nebula went for the Power Stone. Everyone had enough Pym particles for one round trip. No one could afford to mess up.

“We can all stand around posing up a storm later.” Past Tony said, hauling Loki to his feet. “By the way, feel free to clean up.”

While the familiar scene played out in front of Tony and Scott, they conversated with Steve about the unflattering fit of his old suit. Scott said that he could tell the undercover HYDRA agents, because they even looked like bad guys.

“Miss Stark?” JARVIS had alerted 2012 Y/N, unbeknownst to either Tony. “There appears to be a second Tony Stark in the building. Your father is descending in the elevator with the others. Should I alert Mr. Stark?”

“What?” 2012 Y/N questioned, leaving the table in your dad’s lab to see the projection JARVIS had given you. It was Y/N’s dad but older. He carried himself with the same Stark pride, but Y/N could tell something heavy was weighing on his shoulders. “Where is this?”

“He is headed to the ground floor.” JARVIS replied. “Dr. Banner is in the stairwell so it seems he’ll be taking the elevator.”

“I’ll intercept him.” 2012 Y/N said, her curiosity taking over. “Let me know if he changes course.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

2012 Y/N headed out of the lab and towards one of the elevators. Y/N knew her dad and the rest of the team was heading down with Loki. The SHIELD team designated to take the Scepter would be in a different elevator. So she had hoped she’d get an empty one and you did. She quickly made her way to the ground floor, able to beat her dad’s doppelganger.

“Who are you?” 2012 Y/N asked when face to face with the older version of her dad. “Well, I know who you are but it doesn’t make sense.”

“Uh, Y/N..” He said softly. A part of him knew that he would see her, but he still wasn’t prepared for it. She was so young, so innocent. The fights and bruises and scars and tiredness hadn’t gotten to her yet. “What are you doing down here? I thought you were working on-”

“I was in the lab until JARVIS told me-” She began before shaking her head quickly. “Don’t distract me! When are you from?”

“Y/N, hon, listen.” Tony said, a slight sigh in his voice. “I’ll be gone in a few minutes. Please. Just pretend you never saw me.”

“Pretend I-” She said in shock. “Do you really expect me to forget that an older Tony Stark lookalike was wandering the Tower the exact day Loki was here? No, you came here for a reason.”

“Y/N?” 2012 Tony called, drawing her attention.

“Don’t move.” She told Tony before hurrying to her dad.

“Alright, move it Stuart Little.” Tony said to Scott, who had slid into 2012 Tony’s Arc Reactor. “Things are getting a little dicey and she won’t leave me alone for long.”

“You promise me you won’t die?” Scott checked.

“You’re only giving me a mild cardiac dysrhythmia.”

“That doesn’t sound mild.”

“Pull my pin!” Tony insisted quietly.

“Here goes!” Scott exclaimed before disconnecting 2012 Tony’s reactor. 2012 Tony fell to the ground, grasping his chest. 2012 Y/N dropped to her knees, calling for a medic. Scott kicked the case to Tony, who picked it up and headed off. Just as it seemed to have gone to plan, 2012 Hulk came barrelling through the door as he yelled about hating stairs. The door flying opened knocked the case from Tony’s hands and sent the Tesseract sliding away.

So Tony and Scott sat in a broken down car, waiting for Steve to leave the Tower. They had one chance. It had to be perfect, but it wasn’t. He had the Tesseract in his hand and he lost it.

“Sorry, buddy.” Tony explained when Steve came out. “We got a problem.”

“Huh, yeah we do.” Scott agreed quickly.

“Well, what are we gonna do now?” Steve asked in defeat.

“You know what, give me a break Steve.” Tony defended himself. “Y/N just interrogated me like I was in cahoots with Loki and I got hit in the head with a Hulk.”

“You talked to Y/N?” Steve asked with raised eyebrows. He was almost insinuating that his conversation with Y/N was the reason he lost the Tesseract.

“No, it was more like she was yelling at me for being in my own building.” Tony countered. “Imagine that. My own daughter scolding me for being in my building.”

“You said we had one shot. This- this was our shot. We shot it. It’s shot.” Scott ranted anxiously. “Six stones or nothing. Six stones or nothing.”

“You’re repeating yourself, you know that?” Tony interrupted. “You’re repeating yourself.”

“You’re repeating yourself.” Scott countered childishly. “You’re repeating yourself.”

“I dropped the ball.” Tony said simply.

“You ruined the time heist.” Scott whined.

“Is that what I did?”

“Yeah!”

“Are there any other options with the Tesseract?” Steve asked loudly, trying to refocus the two.

“No, no, no. There’s no other options. There’s no do-overs. We’re not going anywhere else.” Scott argued. “We have one particle left. Each. That’s it, alright? We use that- Bye bye. You’re not going home.”

“Well if we don’t try-” Steve emphasized. “No one else is going home either. Not Bucky.. Not Hope.. And not Y/N.”

“I got it.” Tony said simply. “There’s another way, to retake the Tesseract and acquire new particles. We’ll stroll down memory lane, military installation. Garden State.”

“When were they both there?” Steve questioned.

“They were there at a- I’ve a vaguely exact idea.”

“How vague?”

While Tony and Steve conversated as if it was obvious, Scott was left in the dark to ask questions that no one would answer. Tony told Scott to get back to the Compound, while he and Steve went to the 70’s. Tony headed off to find the Tesseract, where he ran into his father on the way. Steve went to find Dr. Pym, where he saw Peggy on his way.

“I guess I’ll be eating dinner in the pantry again.” Howard joked.

“I have a little girl. Well, two girls but my oldest is in high school.” Tony said with a proud smile.

“A girl would be nice… Less of a chance she’d turn out exactly like me.”

“What’d be so awful about that?” Tony asked. “My oldest is just like me.”

“Let’s just say that the greater good has rarely outweighed my own self-interests.”

“Where are you with names?” Tony asked, trying to make light conversation until Steve showed up.

“My wife likes Elmonzo for a boy.”

“Might wanna let that stew awhile.. You got time.”

“Let me ask you a question.” Howard said in turn. “When your kid was born- either of them- were you nervous?”

“Wildly, yeah.” Tony laughed. “But those two are the best things that ever happened to me.”

The two finished their conversation before Tony snuck off with Steve. The two went back to the present, where they met with the rest of the team. Everyone except Natasha. She had given up her life so Clint could bring back the Soul Stone. After a tense interaction by the lake, they agreed that Nat’s sacrifice had to be worth it. It had to work.

Rocket and Tony fit the Stones into a Gauntlet. Thor argued to be the one to snap, his personal grief was leaking out. He wanted to do something right, to help fix what he didn’t stop. But Bruce was the one to snap. He said he was made for it since the radiation from the Stones was mostly gamma.

“Remember, just bring back everyone Thanos snapped away to today. Don’t change anything from the past five years.” Tony reminded his friend.

“Got it.” Bruce nodded.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. do me a favor and activate Barn Door protocol. Will you?” Tony asked as he gave Bruce space.

Metal sheets covered every window in the Compound, locking down the facility. Bruce put on the gauntlet, screaming in pain as the power surged his body. Painfully, he snapped his fingers before passing out, allowing the gauntlet to slide from his hand.

Everyone waited, time seemingly froze. They had no idea if it had worked. They started to wonder if it had been for nothing. Until Clint’s phone rang. It was his wife, his wife who had been lost in the Snap five years prior. They could hear the birds outside the Compound. Everything seemed to be looking up, until a barrage of missiles hit the Compound.

Back on Titan, you finished your original thought.

“-ever.” You said slowly, stepping in a small circle. Your dad was gone. But Quill and the rest of his friends were back, holding onto each other and checking on one another. Strange was there, watching as if he was waiting for something specific to change whatever path you were all on. “Peter…” When you didn’t get a response, you tried again. “Peter!?”

“What?” Quill yelled.

“Not you, moron.” You rolled your eyes. “Where’s my Peter?” You asked Strange.

“Why would I know that?” Strange questioned.

“You seem to know everything else.” You rolled your eyes. “While we’re at it, where’s my dad?”

“And Nebula.” Quill added.

“What happened?” You asked finally.

“Y/N?” Peter asked from the ground. He was laying on his back a few feet away from you. “What the hell just happened?”

“Oh my god!” You exclaimed in relief. You rushed to his side and dropped to your knees. He quickly took your hand in his, squeezing it tightly. “Are you alright?”

“Little queasy but otherwise, I think I’m alright.” He offered a small smile.

“Hey, promise me something.” You said quickly, your joy of seeing him again taking over any rational thoughts.

“Anything.” He grinned.

“Once everything is in the clear, you take me on a date.” You said with a smirk. “A real date too, not just hanging out at my place.”

“Uh, yeah!” He said happily. “Yeah, for sure. Any- anything you want, Y/N.”

“We need to get back to Earth.” Strange announced. “It’s been five years since Thanos and the fight on this planet. Thanos won and snapped his fingers, wiped out half of all life. The ones left on Earth managed to reverse what Thanos did, which is how we’re all here right now.”

“So where’s my dad?” You asked again, helping Peter to his feet. “If we’re all back and everything was reversed, why isn’t he here with us?”

“Your dad didn’t disappear when we did. He’s back on Earth but Thanos is there, right now. We need to get to Earth.”

“In case you forgot, my suit is wrecked.” You laughed. “When we fought Thanos last time, we got our asses kicked. What makes this time different? Is this the one?”

“I can’t tell you that. But it’s different because you’ll be together this time.” Strange vaguely answered. “Now, you need to get to your lab to deal with all of that.” He gestured to your lack of a suit, as well as the gash you had forgotten about.

Strange opened a portal to a lake house. He stepped through and motioned for you to follow. When you crossed through, you didn’t recognize the area. The lake was new. The house was new. A lot had changed in five years apparently. A gentle squeeze of your hand let you know Peter was with you.

“Wait…” You said, taking a couple cautious steps forward. “Where are we? I thought you were taking me to my lab. My suit is- I need-”

“You’re where you’re supposed to be.” Strange interjected. “Go to the front door.”

“I’m not going up to a random person’s front door.” You laughed.

“Uh, Y/N?” Peter interjected quietly, pointing to something low behind you. You slowly turned and saw a small girl standing behind you, staring at you in confusion.

“Hi.” You said awkwardly. “What, uh- What’s your name?”

“Morgan.” She smiled. “Who are you?”

You opened your mouth to speak but saw something familiar around her neck. You knelt to her level, reaching for the pendant but deciding against it. You noted small details about her. Her brown hair, her round face. She seemed sweet, welcoming. Her eyes were kind, full of wonder and hope for the world. You wondered if she knew what happened five years ago.

“That’s a pretty necklace.” You commented. It was the prototype housing unit you designed. After you wore it, you realized you didn’t like the long necklace so you ditched it for the bracelets. The necklace was still a cute accessory, but you wondered how Morgan got it. “Can I ask where it came from?”

“Garage.” She said simply, her small fingers grasping the pendant. “Daddy said Y/N would let me have it.”

“Who’s Y/N?” You asked carefully.

“Daddy said she wanted to be a superhero, but she left. She was smart and popular.”

“Y- Your daddy?” You stammered. “Is your dad’s name Tony?”

“No.” She shook her head. “He’s just Daddy.”

“Okay, fair enough.” You chuckled. “Listen, I uh- I know your dad. Can you take me to the garage? The garage where you found the necklace.”

“I have to ask Mommy.” She held out a hand for you to take. You stood and took her hand, reaching quickly for Peter with the other. “Do you know Mommy too?”

“Y/N, it’s okay.” He nodded, squeezing your hand once before stepping back. Once you felt his grip disappear, you nodded for Morgan to start walking.

“Yeah.” You said suddenly, remembering she had asked a question. “I knew her a few years ago, before this super crazy thing happened.”

“Crazy?”

“Totally.” You nodded, earning a small chuckle from her.

“Mommy!?” She yelled as she entered the home. “I found Y/N!”

“Wha- How did you know?” You said, stopping in your tracks.

“Daddy talks bout you a lot.” She said before pointing to a collection of photos on the wall. “And your picture is everywhere.”

“Huh.” You smiled. “Guess he did miss me.”

“Morgan, honey, what are you yelling about?” Your mom came around the corner. “Oh my god.”

“Hi mom.” You smiled, hurrying across the room to hug her tightly.

“I can’t believe it.” She mumbled into your shoulder. “You’re here. Oh, my god, you’re here. Your dad really did it.”

“Wait, Dad? What did he do?” You asked, the smile still stuck on your lips as you pulled away slightly. “How did he do it?”

“Your dad figured out time travel, Y/N.” She said, still in amazement.

“That’s awesome.” You laughed. “But also terrifying! Anyway, Morgan said she found some of my stuff in the garage… I need to reload my bracelets and if there’s time, update to Dad’s new network.”

“You’re not gonna find what you need in the garage.” She shook her head, heading to a table in a room off of the Living Room. “One, cause it’s a mess. Two, cause your dad told me to give you these if you came by.”

She handed you a set of bracelets, engraved with an arc reactor and the word Stark. They fit your wrist perfectly, a slight blue tint to the metal. They were light, light enough that you could barely tell you were wearing them.

“Woah.” You mumbled in amazement. “These are awesome.”

“And fully upgraded from what I heard.” Your mom added.

“No shit.” You exclaimed, tempted to tap them together and see what upgrades your dad gave you.

“Shit.” Morgan repeated from beside you.

“No, no, no!” You exclaimed quickly. “That’s an adult word, Morgan. You can’t say it.”

“Shit.” She giggled.

“No!” You whined. “Mom is gonna kill me!”

“You’re right about that.” She nodded.

“Hi, sorry to interrupt.” Strange said, suddenly at your side. “But we need to go. Pepper, you’re gonna wanna suit up and come too.”

“I forgot about Rescue!” You exclaimed.

“What about Morgan?�� Pepper countered.

“Happy Hogan.” He said, gesturing to Happy who was sitting on your parents’ couch. “We have to go now. Steve Rogers is standing up to Thanos alone.”

“Alone?” You asked, a heavy feeling in your chest. “Where’s my dad?”

“We have to go.” Strange said simply.

“If I get there and he isn’t okay-” You said seriously, knocking your bracelets together. “You are going to be the one to answer for it.”

The suit was remarkably light. You watched the reflection in the window as the nanites spread to cover your body. It moved with ease, as if you weren’t wearing a suit at all. The design was sleek, the way you had always made your suits. It was colored to mimic your dad’s, but your dad had added more gold accents to yours. You wondered what else your dad had upgraded it with, but you knew you’d find out in time.

Strange turned and opened a portal for you, Peter, and your mom to step through. Your mom hurried into the room wearing Rescue. You all quickly went through, armed and ready to fight. The scene you came out to was insane. Strange and his friend Wong had gathered everyone willing to fight.

You recognized T’Challa and his sister Shuri, who you had yet to meet but knew to be brilliant. You saw Bucky and Wanda on the other side of the battlefield. Hundreds of people from Wakanda, spaceships full of people, a woman on a Pegasus, a woman who could shrink the way Scott could. People from all over the universe were collected for the fight.

You saw who you thought was Thor, now holding an axe and seemingly gained a belly the size of a basketball. Steve had a broken shield and Mjolnir, which didn’t quite surprise you. But you still couldn’t see your dad.

“Do you see him?” You asked Peter.

“I do.” Your mom answered. “He’s alright.”

“Avengers..” Steve said over comms. Your body tensed, your heart rate picked up. The adrenaline began rushing through your veins. You weren’t quite sure if it was fear or excitement taking over your thoughts, but you let it wash over you. You looked out at the vast army before you, stretching into what seemed like forever. You sent out a silent prayer to whatever God would hear you, asking to keep you on the one path that would save everyone. “Assemble.”

All hell broke loose. Fighters charged from either side. You were separated from Peter early, having to fend for yourself. Your new suit was highly responsive, picking up on things before they entered your peripherals. The power it had was insane, cutting through Thanos’ army like butter. Your dad had added new extensions to the suit; displacer sentries, stabilizing thrusters, energy refocusers, an upgraded unibeam, and liquid nitrogen cannons.

Finally, you made your way to your dad. The fighting seemed to go around you two, as if the universe knew you two needed a minute. You let your helmet fall away, as did your dad. You both stood frozen for a minute, wondering if it was real.

“I got back and you were gone.” You said simply, your throat now tight. You blamed it on the dirt being kicked up from the fight. “Strange didn’t tell me where you were… Kinda freaked me out.”

“Well, I didn’t wanna hang out on an abandoned planet for five years.” He tried to joke. “Had to get back to your mom.”

“When I came back, I- I thought you-” You felt the tears coming. “I thought you were gone, Dad. And not just gone, like somewhere else, but gone as in dead. And then I thought how I didn’t want to live without you and I- I got really scared, Dad.”

“Y/N/N..” He said gently. You quickly closed the distance between you two and hugged him tightly. “It’s alright. We’re alright.”

“I love you, forever.” You mumbled into his shoulder.

“And ever.” He smiled.

You pulled away and sniffled, wiping your eyes quickly. “You have to tell me how you did it later. Time travel!? That’s insane. Oh! And Morgan, she’s super cute.”

“Morgan?” Tony eyebrows furrowed. “You met Morgan?” He smiled softly.

“Yeah, I met her when I went to get Mom and this awesome new suit.” You smiled, gesturing grandly to the suit you wore. “Which is incredible, by the way. I’m in love.”

“Hey! Holy cow!” Peter exclaimed as he ran into your dad. “You will not believe what’s going on. Do you remember when we were in space? And I got all dusty? I must’ve passed out, because I woke up and you were gone. But Doctor Strange was there, right? He was like ‘It’s been five years. Come on, they need us.’ and then he started doing the yellow sparkly thing that he does all the time and-”

You rolled your eyes in amusement as Peter rambled. Your dad was watching him with a soft look in his eyes, glancing quickly between Peter and you. Tony felt a deep sense of relief, a heavy weight lifted from his chest by seeing you two in front of him. The two people that he wanted to bring back were now in front of him. You stepped behind Peter and nudged him forward. Peter stumbled into Tony, who hugged the boy tightly. “This is nice.” Peter said gently.

“As grateful as I am to have you two alive, we have bigger issues.” You commented, seeing the van that was sounding off with La Cucaracha. “We need to get the Stones to that van.”

“How long do you need to get it working?” Tony asked Scott.

“Ten minutes, maybe.” He answered.

“Who has the Stones?” You asked as you, your dad, and Peter jumped back into the fight. You dodged attacks from either side, effortlessly spinning and ducking shots and projectiles. You saw Clint running through the crowd, one arm tucked against his chest. “Clint has them but he’s gonna need help.”

You were headed that way when you felt your leg being dragged down. You looked and saw a Chitauri soldier had grabbed your ankle and was pulling you down to the ground. You let yourself fall for a moment before turning gravity against the Chitauri and getting your feet aligned with it’s chest. You bent your knees slightly, using the alien as a push off. The thrust from your boosters burnt the Chitauri’s wrist to the point where it released you. You quickly shot off a blast to put a hole in it’s chest as it hit the ground. Your attention turned back to Clint as you saw him become surrounded.

“Hey.” Tony told Strange below you, causing your path to stop so you could listen. “You said one out of 14 million we win, yeah? Tell me this is it.”

Strange glanced up and saw you waiting for his answer. “If I tell you what happens, it won’t happen.”

You rolled your eyes within your helmet and took off. T’Challa got to Clint so you changed your course. You decided on a bit of revenge until you were needed to help move the Stones. “F.R.I.D.A.Y., give me locations on Thanos and Peter.”

“Peter is approximately 36 feet to your left with Shuri, no critical damage to the suit indicates no dire injuries.” Her automated voice answered quickly. “Thanos is six feet straight ahead. Maximoff approaching the target.” She showed you a zoomed image of where the Titan was.

“Keep me posted when those Stones change hands.” You ordered as you landed next to Wanda.

“You took everything from me.” She said angrily.

“From us.” You added, charging a blast from your palm.

“I don’t even know who either of you are.” Thanos replied.

“You will.” Wanda said simply, her eyes glowing red as her power swirled around her.

You stood watching in awe for a moment before remembering where you were. You shot your blast at the charging Thanos, knocking him off balance. Wanda quickly followed up with two huge rock piles, both were knocked in pieces by his sword. Wanda launched quick bursts at him, each one more powerful than the last.

You flipped over Thanos, sending off shots from above and then behind him. Together, you and Wanda brought the Titan to his knees. Wanda kept applying pressure, Thanos groaning in pain.

“The Stones have transferred hands to Peter.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. told you.

“You got this?” You asked, your focus now completely shifted. “I gotta go.”

“Go.” She nodded.

You took off quickly, F.R.I.D.A.Y. guiding you to Peter’s location. You find him surrounded by Chitauri, but his artificial limbs assisted him in the fight. You landed with enough force to push the last few Chitauri away from him and into someone else’s attack.

“You know, I was on the fence about the instant-kill. But it came in handy, didn’t it?” You joked.

Peter chuckled before more Chitauri came at you both. They grabbed at you, throwing you to the side and focusing on Peter. Everytime you tried to help, five of them shoved you off. You heard Peter call for help, to which Steve threw Mjolnir for him to grab. You took off ahead of the Hammer, hoping to keep a clear path for Peter. Peter shot a web, using Mjolnir as a ride out of the chaos.

A shot from one of the ships sliced Peter’s web, sending him to the ground fast. You dropped until you were able to grab him.

“I’m always having to help you out, aren’t I?” You commented teasingly as you tossed him to the woman on the Pegasus. You flew alongside her until a shot came too close for you to successfully dodge and threw you into Peter. It knocked him off the Pegasus and sent both of you crashing to the ground.

Peter had gotten up and tried to run, to get the Stones a little bit closer. A blast from the cannon landed right in front of him, sending him flying backwards so he would land in front of you. The impact shattered his artificial limbs and he let his mask fall away. He grabbed the gauntlet and tucked into a ball to protect himself from the shots still coming. You pushed yourself to your side as you put up an energy shield over you and Peter.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., what are they firing at?” Tony asked as some of the cannons changed direction, the question playing in your helmet too as the system showed a projection of an incoming object.

“Something just entered the upper atmosphere.” She responded.

“Let’s hope it’s on our side.” You mumbled, momentarily dropping the shield to watch.

You looked up to see a bright flash of light break through one of the ships, disabling it and going through it once again to slice it in half. You were so impressed by the power it had that you almost didn’t notice the falling rubble.

“Little help would be nice!” You yelled over comms as you threw up another shield, to which Steve asked Danvers to help. You had assumed Danvers was the one who broke the ship in half so you kept still until help arrived. You dropped the shield and stared in awe as Peter spoke.

“Hi.” He said quickly, still keeping the gauntlet close. “I’m Peter Parker. She’s Y/N Stark.”

“So cool.” You said simply.

“Hey, Peter Parker.” She chuckled. “Y/N Stark. I saved your dad once. He ever tell you that?”

“He did not. But I came back to a giant war so there hasn’t really been time..” You nodded, pushing yourself to your feet and put your helmet on again.

“You got something for me?” She asked Peter, nodding towards the Stones.

“I don’t know how you’re gonna get it through all that.” Peter said tiredly as he stood and handed over the gauntlet.

You noted how tired he was, how beat up he was. But he was still ready to fight. Your heart ached, and you quickly realized that you didn’t just like Peter Parker. You loved Peter Parker. The revelation didn’t surprise you, but you wished it had come at a better time than that moment.

“Don’t worry.” Wanda said as she landed next to you.

“She’s got help.” One of the Wakandan warriors who you later learned to be Okoye added. Your mom joined the group, along with Pegasus woman, Valkyrie. Mantis, Hope Van Dyne, and Nebula showed up, along with Shuri and Nebula’s sister, Gamora. Together, you fought through the army to get the Stones to Scott’s van.

You and your mom focused your fire high, aiming at ships and taller enemies. You followed behind Danvers, working on keeping her path clear. Thanos charged Danvers, dead set on stopping her for the Stones. You, your mom, Shuri, and Hope shot beams at him, knocking him to the ground.

“After this, you gotta show me how you made those.” You yelled to Shuri, who looked over and laughed slightly. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Shuri. You seem to be doing well with what you have.” She teased. “Is it new?”

“First time in it.” You answered with a proud nod.

“Really, Y/N?” Your mom commented. “Now? Your dad just upgraded that suit for you.”

“You wanted me to make friends.” You defended, focusing back on the task at hand.

You all added extra force to throw Thanos back. He rolled, lifting his attention to where Danvers was headed. Since you all wouldn’t let him get to Danvers, he decided to destroy where she was headed. He threw his sword into the tunnel, destroying it and sending a massive energy wave that launched everyone back.

“The gauntlet is about twenty meters behind you.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. told you. “Mr. Stark can reach it but Thanos is already on his way.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it.” You replied, pushing yourself to your feet. You took off in a sprint before pushing off a short ledge, taking flight and headed that way. You watched your dad tackle Thanos before getting elbowed away. Thor and Steve kept him back, using Mjolnir and Thor’s new axe to their aid. Danvers beat you there and fought him off a minute, until Thanos threw her to the side.

You helped your dad up to his knees and watched Thanos put the gauntlet on. You and your dad dropped your masks, not worried about them anymore.

“Not again.” You whispered fearfully.

Danvers came back just in time, stopping him from snapping his fingers. She had the upper hand until Thanos pulled out one Stone and used it to send her flying. Strange looked over at you two, holding up one finger to tell you both that there was only one way.

Your dad stood slowly, understanding what he was meant to do. You understood it at the same time so you grabbed his hand, hoping to pull him back to you. “Dad, please.” You begged. “No. No! It’s not worth it.”

“I can’t lose again.” He said softly.

“Think about Morgan.” You tried desperately. “A-and me. I just got you back.”

“I am thinking of you two.” He replied gently. “I love you, forever.” He said before running to Thanos, trying to take the Stones from him.

You looked to Strange again in anger. You wanted to take it out on Strange, but the look he gave you made you reconsider. Strange looked at you as if you had a role to play, as if it wasn’t just about Tony. You and your dad had been through everything together. You had been glued to his side since Loki first arrived in New York. Every fight, every training session, every injury, and every upgrade you were there. You started it together. You had to end it together.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., did my dad ever add the suit-to-suit interface to exchange nanites?” You asked quickly, running through the possibilities. “If he gets those Stones away from Thanos, it’s too much energy for him to handle. It needs to be dispersed.”

“It’s added but I’ll need time to activate it.” Her automated voice said. “Opening the entirety of both suits to interface with each other-”

“I don’t need a whole suit.” You cut her off. “My left palm. His right shoulder, upper shoulder. Clavicular region.”

“Less than a minute. Initiating interface.”

You ran over to your dad as he was knocked away. Your steps froze when Thanos raised his hand again and your dad laid face down.

“I am inevitable.” Thanos said in triumph. You braced for the second Snap, but nothing happened. You noticed a faint glow from your dad’s suit so you started running again.

“Interface available in 5… 4… 3… 2… 1… Interface active.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. announced to you.

Tony knelt in front of the Titan, Stones in hand. He shoved them into his suit, a Stone aligned with each knuckle. He thought about what he was going to do, the risk he was going to take. Someone had to do it, and it seemed only Tony could. But his mind brought back words that weighed on his heart..

Years ago, Steve had told him “The only thing you really fight for is yourself. You’re not the guy to make the sacrifice play, to lay down on a wire and let the other guy crawl over you.”

Peter said “I just wanted to be like you.”

Y/N had argued “I don’t know how to live a life without you and I don’t want to. I shouldn’t have to!”

Morgan had told him with a smile “I love you, 3000.”

Pepper once told him “You’re all I have too, you know.”

Y/N would always say “I love you, forever.”

But the heaviest one was what Strange had told him just minutes before, “If I tell you what happens, it won’t happen.”

“And I…” Your dad panted. You could see the power of the Stones coursing up his suit, scorched marks climbing to his neck. You got to him quickly, standing beside him. You placed your hand on his shoulder, the energy diverting up into your body as the nanites mixed.

It was white hot, burning every cell in your body. It was intense, scorching every nerve it touched. Your fingers trembled, your pulse beat unevenly. Your stomach muscle clenched, your knees shook. But despite it all, you stood tall. You gathered yourself with a deep breath and spoke.

“We.” You emphasized.

“We-” Your dad nodded slightly.

“-are Starks.” You two said together before he snapped his fingers. The surge brought you to your knees beside your dad, who used his other hand to reach across himself and steady you. You made sure to keep your left hand where it was, refusing to move it until you could get the Stones out. You two watched as every soldier Thanos brought, his whole army, turned to dust the way you did five years ago. Thanos sat on a nearby rock as he turned to dust himself.

You and your dad manage to get to a nearby debris pile where you turned and leaned your backs against. Your dad coughed as you reached over and pulled the Stones from his suit and dropped them next to you. You saw the relief in his posture once you took the Stones away.

“One hell of a day back.” You tried to joke, to which you both laughed weakly.

“You shouldn't have done that, Y/N/N.” Tony said weakly.

“There was only one way, remember?” You countered. “I had to. We started this together, we end it together.”

“Love you, kiddo.” Your dad smiled at you.

“Forever.”

“And ever.”

“Y/N?” Peter said gently. “Mr. Stark?” Peter ran up to you both, falling to his knees between you two. He gently took one of your hands in his. “Hey. Can you guys hear me? It’s Peter. We won. Y/N, Mr. Stark, we won. You did it. You guys did it.”

“You-” You coughed, smiling weakly at him. “You still owe me… a date, Petey.”

“Anywhere you want, Y/N/N.” He laughed sadly. He leaned forward and hugged both of you. “You’re gonna be fine, I promise.”

“Maybe not this time.”

Gently, Peter was guided away from you two, tears slowly falling down his face and leaving streaks in the dirt that covered his cheeks. You smiled softly, knowing you really did love the boy. You wanted to get up and comfort him, wrap your arms around him and hold him tight. But you didn’t have it in you. You could barely manage to keep your eyes open.

Your mom knelt in front of you two where Peter was. She sighed gently, trying to put on a brave face, but she was hurt the most. Your heart sank when you saw the pain she was in. She was looking at two of the three people that meant the world to her, sitting before her and fighting for their lives. She had watched her family sacrifice themselves for the world, a sacrifice those two - especially those two - never should’ve had to make.

“Hey.” She said softly. “You’ve both looked better.”

“Hey, mom.” You said as your dad answered, “Hey, Pep.”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” She said, hoping for good news.

“Intense emergency surgeries needed. Immediate treatment raises survival rate by about 60%.” Her automated voice answered.

“Brother.” Shuri whispered to T’Challa as Pepper gently comforted her family. “I think I can heal them in my lab. They don’t have to die.”

“How would we get them there?” T’Challa asked honestly. He wanted to help them, but he didn’t think it’d be possible. “It is too far to guarantee there’d be time.”

“We can’t leave them to die here.” Rhodey commented. “We gotta at least take them home.”

“It’s okay.” Pepper nodded to you two. “We’re gonna be okay, alright? You two can rest now.”

“Love you, Mom.” You whispered. “Tell Peter… Tell him I love him too.”

You smiled softly at your mother before leaning your head back against the debris. Your eyes drifted shut, your body feeling heavy. You gave into the darkness as your dad did the same. The reactors in both of your suits faded to a dull glow, not quite off yet.

“The reactors aren’t off.” Peter noted, his voice strained from his pain. Not physical pain, but emotional pain. He had become so close to Y/N Stark to the point where he thought he loved her. She meant so much to him in the short time he knew her, so much so that he convinced himself she was his soulmate. He didn’t even believe in that kind of thing until he met her. Now he really wished he hadn’t hesitated. “They’re not gone.”

“Peter-” Steve tried to console him. Steve was feeling the loss too. He was devastated. Y/N and Tony were both practically family to him, the only family he had left. And now they were gone. They gave up their lives to save the world. Steve felt a pang of guilt, that even though they got everyone back, they still lost. Steve had insisted on it, that they would win this time around, but they still managed to lose.

“I can hear it!” He yelled, his voice breaking. “Their hearts are still beating.” He looked back to Y/N and Tony, their eyes shut. “They’re not gone. Just look!” He threw both hands forward, gesturing to the center glow of their chests.

“So what do we do then?” Thor asked. “The Compound is ruined. How are we supposed to help them?”

“Take them home.” Carol suggested. “You, Sparkles.” Carol pointed to Dr. Strange. “You can make portals. Make a portal to take them home, and then we go from there.”

“What do you actually think we can do for them?” Strange questioned defensively. “Those Stones-”

“I think that Peter Parker is onto something.” Carol countered easily. “Make a portal to take them home.”

“They won’t survive.”

“If you’re so sure, at least let them die somewhere they’d be comfortable.” She rolled her eyes.

“We have the technology to heal them.” T’Challa spoke up. He figured it was the least he could do, to offer whatever Wakanda could give to help. “If you can get them home and keep them stable, Shuri and I can get what we need and bring it to you. But we’d have to hurry.”

“And you’re sure they’re alive?” Strange asked Peter.

“One hundred percent.” He responded confidently, his eyes on Y/N. “I know it.”

Strange opened two portals, one to Wakanda and one to the Stark’s lakehouse. Carefully, Rhodey scooped up Tony and Peter carried Y/N. Pepper went through first, hurrying to get Morgan out of the house so she wouldn’t see what her dad and sister looked like. Tony and Y/N were carried to their rooms and gently set up in their beds.

Wong helped the rest of those who fought get home. Steve, Bruce, Clint, and Thor followed the Stark family to their home, as did Carol. Dr. Strange went with T’Challa so he and Shuri would have a quick way back to Tony and Y/N. Pepper asked F.R.I.D.A.Y. to disable the suits so their housing units could be taken off and to keep their vitals posted. Both of their pulses were extremely weak, but they were still there. They were both put on ventilators - Tony kept a few on hand just in case the Compound wasn’t the best option for treatment - and were given an injection of painkillers.

Peter had been right.

Pepper stayed with Tony in their room, while Peter argued to stay with Y/N. Steve had offered, told Peter he should get home and get some rest, but Peter set himself up in the window nook and refused to get up.He had washed the dirt and blood off his face and out of his hair, his wet curls still dripping onto his shirt slightly. Despite using cold water to wake himself up, he still just wanted to curl up and sleep.

He called May after Steve left the room and went downstairs to talk to others. He had taken off his suit, leaving him in the clothes he had worn to the field trip, before he had gotten on the spaceship.

“Hey, May.” Peter said tiredly. He was exhausted, every muscle ached. He wanted to lay in his own bed and sleep for a year, but he knew what his priority was at the moment. “You okay?”

“Where are you, Peter?” She asked anxiously. “I- I called you twelve times and you didn’t answer. Are you okay? You- you never came home from your MOMA field trip and I-”

“I’m fine.” Peter cut in. “I- I got caught up in that dusty thing a few years ago.”

“Yeah, yeah, I think I did too.” She paused, letting out a heavy sigh. “Come home, Peter.”

“I can’t.” He said sadly. “Y/N, she got hurt real bad, May… I can’t leave her right now.”

“You love her, don’t you?” May asked, a small smile on her lips that Peter didn’t need to see to know it was there.

“Yeah.. I think I do.” Peter chuckled nervously. “I never got a chance to tell her.”

“You’ll get one… Don’t miss it.”

“Love you, May.”

“Love you too, Peter. Text me before you go to sleep and call me in the morning.”

“Will do.” And with that, Peter hung up the phone.

A small knock on the door sounded before it was cracked open enough for a small child to slip inside. She shut the door carefully behind her, as if she was used to sneaking around the house. She ran across the room until she stood in front of Peter, looking at him with her head tilted slightly. Slowly, unsure of what to do, Peter pulled his legs to his chest to make room for her. She climbed into the open space and crossed her legs, dropping her hands in her lap.

“Morgan, right?” Peter asked, leaning his head back as he tried to stay awake.

“Who are you?” She asked plainly.

“Peter Parker.” He gave a lazy salute.

“Are you her boyfriend?”

Peter chuckled. “No.. Not yet, at least.”

“You like her?”

“I do.” He nodded with a lazy smile. “I like her a lot.”

“She’s pretty.” Morgan said, as if Peter hadn’t noticed that. “Is she hurt the way Daddy is?”

“How do you know that?”

“I was sneaky.” She whispered, bringing one finger to her lips to emphasize how quiet she was. Peter chuckled in response.

“Yeah, Y/N is hurt.” Peter said carefully. “But she’s gonna be okay. You know why?”

“Cause she’s like Daddy.” She said confidently. “And Daddy is Iron Man.”

“Yeah, but also because she has to come back to her family. You and your mom and-”

“And you.” Morgan cut in. “Want to make a card with me?”

“You go get started and I’ll meet you down there.” Peter responded, holding out his pinky. “I just need a minute and I’ll go downstairs after. Pinky promise.”

“Okay.” She nodded, quickly finishing the pinky promise. “Bye, Peter!” She said before quickly sneaking out of the room, leaving just Y/N and Peter.

“When we met, I never thought we’d end up here..” Peter said to Y/N, even though he knew she probably couldn’t hear him. “After everything we’ve been through, it kinda seemed like you were invincible. Nothing could really take you out like this. I mean, yeah, we both came out of everything with some sort of aches and pains, but not like this.

“I know you’re fighting for your life, Y/N/N. And I know you have your own reasons to fight, but I gotta ask you to fight for me. Please… I just- I love you, Y/N Stark. And I want to be able to tell you when you can actually acknowledge it. I- I want to take you to parties and school dances. I want you to come to Decathlon a-and laugh at how easy the questions are because you’re brilliant.” He chuckled lightly before closing his eyes, curling in on himself a little more. “Just come back for me, please.”

A light knock sounded before Shuri entered, a cart of equipment being led in behind her. Two Wakandan soldiers followed behind with her equipment, setting things up while Shuri went and spoke to Peter. Peter sat up slowly, unsure of how long he had been asleep.

“We can take it from here.” She told Peter, gently putting a hand on his shoulder. “You should get something to eat, Peter. You look starved.”

“Yeah..” He nodded slightly. “But I have a card to make first.” He smiled lazily before taking one last look at Y/N. “She’s gonna make it, right?”

“I’m going to do everything I can.”

“Oh, she kinda got stabbed like right here-” Peter’s hand hovered over Y/N’s side, where he remembered Thanos using her suit’s blade against her. “That was before we got dusted so I don’t know if it’s still there but…” He shrugged, pausing to decide if he wanted to ask his next question. “How’s Mr. Stark doing?” Peter asked carefully, now fully knowing if he was ready to hear how his mentor was. “Is he gonna..”

“Mr. Stark is going to be okay.” Shuri promised. “We could not save his arm, but we saved him. The only thing I don’t know is how soon he’ll wake up. His injuries were rather traumatic and that kind of shock takes a toll on the human body.”

“Thank you.” Peter said honestly. “For being on my side back there and believing they could be helped. And for being willing to help them.”

“The world owes them a debt that can never be repaid.” Shuri said honestly, scanning Y/N with her Kimoyo Beads. “It is the least I could do.”

“I’ll leave you to it then.” Peter nodded before heading downstairs to join Morgan in her card making.

Steve handed Peter a plate of food and two water bottles, reminding Peter that he had to take care of himself too. Most of the adults stayed in the other room, discussing their worry in quiet whispers. Carol sat with Peter and Morgan around the coffee table, each of them making a card. Morgan was finishing her card for Tony, while Peter worked on one for Y/N and Carol made one that was meant for both of them. Carol and Peter took turns telling jokes or making fun of their own drawings to make Morgan laugh. By the time they were done, they each made a card for Y/N and Tony, until Morgan fell asleep against Peter.

“You really care about them, don’t you?” Carol asked Peter once Morgan was asleep.

“Y/N and Mr. Stark believed in me when no one else did.” Peter began fondly. “When I went with them to Germany to fight Captain America, she told me that I was going to have to put up with her for a long time. She told me that she wasn’t gonna let anything bad happen to me, that we had to stick together. But now... It’s different. When she smiles at me, I feel dizzy. When she laughs, I can’t help but laugh with her. Even when she looks at me, I- I don’t know how to explain it.”

“I can explain it.” She smirked at him. “That’s love, kid.”

“It is?” Peter asked. “That’s kinda what I had hoped it all meant.”

“Did you ever tell her?”

“I had a chance… But I hesitated.” He admitted, remembering on Titan when he wanted to kiss her. “But if I had known this would’ve happened-”

“Yeah, but you didn’t know.” She cut him off. “What matters now is if you’re gonna hesitate next time?” She challenged.

“God, I hope not.” Peter chuckled.

Soon, Shuri and her brother, along with the two Wakandans that came with her, were coming down the stairs. Most of the equipment was packed and being carried with her. Peter was careful not to move and wake Morgan when Shuri came downstairs.

“They’re both going to make it.” She said with a proud smile. “However, there are some things we could not fix.”

“Like what?” Steve asked tensely.

“We could not save Mr. Stark’s right arm. The damage was too severe.” Shuri explained. “They’ll both have burn scars up into their chest and neck area. Mr. Stark’s may even reach the side of his face. As for Y/N..” She paused to show a detailed image of the inner workings of the lower arm, the nervous system breakdown and muscular system. “This is what her right arm looks like, the one that didn’t take on the energy of the Stones. And this-” She swiped to a new image, an image where some of the nerves were in pieces. “-is her left arm. Unfortunately, her damage seemed to have found its way to her nervous system. Some nerves were seared through, meaning she has lost all sensation in her left arm, as well as some of her finer motor control.”

“So what exactly does that mean for her?” Pepper asked anxiously.

“It means she will not be able to fully move her fingers and possibly her wrist, and she won’t physically feel anything at any point on her left arm. But she will live.” Shuri explained. “I’ve also healed a stab wound she had from her first fight with Thanos, and there won’t even be a scar.. They should wake in a few days. They are both on IV drips with painkillers. I’ve done all I can.”

And with that, Shuri left. One by one, the rest of the Avengers that were there left. Peter left the following morning, having fallen asleep on the floor with Morgan. Happy drove him home, but Peter fell asleep again on the way. His body was more exhausted than he had been letting on, and now it had caught up to him.

He tried to get back to normal life. He went back to school, saw Ned and MJ. He went back to Decathlon, but it just didn’t feel right to him until he could hear your voice again. A few days after he was settling back in, he got a call from a number he didn’t recognize.

“Hey, Spiderman.” You said. Your voice was as sweet as honey, making his heart beat three times faster. “Got time for a visit?”

“For you?” Peter replied, pretending he had to think about it. “Definitely. Where at?”

“Right here.” You said, stepping out of the car to stand in front of him. “Hey, Peter.”

“Hi.” He breathed a sigh of relief. Seeing you standing before him, your long-sleeved shirt buttoned up to the top to hide the burns, it made his chest feel tight. He wanted to hug you, to pull you against his chest and never let you go. But he hesitated, just slightly. His biggest concern was how fragile you were.

“You’re looking at me like you’re scared.” You commented, scrunching your eyebrows in confusion. “I thought you’d be happy to see me.”

“I am!” He promised quickly. “I am happy to see you. I just… I have something I want to tell you.”

“I have something I need to tell you too… But it can wait till that date you owe me.” You winked.

“No, it can’t wait.” Peter said, swallowing hard and gathering all his courage. “I wanted to tell you this back on Titan, but I chickened out.”

“Peter, it’s not that serious.” You laughed nervously. “It can wait until tonight, okay?”

“No. It can’t.” He insisted, grabbing your hand. “Y/N, I- I love you and I really want to be with you.”

“That’s great.” You smiled widely, squeezing his hand gently.

“What?”

“Peter, I realized something before this.” You gestured to your left arm. “When Carol came to help us, and I got a good look at how beat up you were but you were still willing to fight… When we were on the beach and you wanted to make sure Toomes didn’t die even though we were on opposite sides… When we were in Germany and you said you trusted me… There are so many little moments between now and the moment I met you that have brought me to this one, single, recurring idea.”

“And what idea is that?” Peter asked smugly, taking a step closer to you. Suddenly, his confidence was through the roof.

“That I love you, Peter Parker.” You smiled widely. “And I really want to be with you.”

“That’s… amazing.” He sighed happily. “Otherwise this could’ve been really awkward."

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