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hearts-hunger · 2 months

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Summary: Back at the haunted house in the off-season, Danny and the boys are working on repairs to the set. You're still a scaredy-cat, and Danny's still your biggest fan. || Sequel to Kitkat

Pairings: Danny x Reader | Genre: fluff, hurt/comfort | Word Count: 6k | Warnings: anxiety, general Halloween spookiness

A/N: Danny and Kitkat are back!! When I first introduced them, I was so humbled and delighted by how much you guys loved them. I hope this sequel does justice to how much love you've lavished on them, and I hope you love it too! ♡

Can you make it through the woods of horror? Enter if you dare!

You smiled to yourself as you passed the signs along the winding country road, watching each slogan become more and more threatening the closer you came to the most highly rated haunted house in your state. They didn’t seem very ominous in the golden light of late afternoon; despite their menacing promises of terror and danger, you found yourself looking forward to reaching the place they advertised.

Of course, that hadn't been true the first time you came down this road nearly two months ago; that night, you’d already worked yourself into an anxious spin just reading the signs before you’d even stepped foot on the property. Still, it had worked out alright in the end; so well, in fact, that you had willingly made many trips back despite being the biggest scaredy-cat in the world.

Finding a parking spot in the near vacant, grassy lot was easy enough, and you carefully juggled the drink carrier out of the passenger seat and started the walk into the woods. The trees were a wash of vibrant color, fiery reds and oranges and yellows; the sunshine came dappled through the leaves, rays of honey-golden warmth on the path. You took a deep breath of the crisp air as you held the armful of coffees close, thankful for their cosy warmth against your chest as you walked.

After a few minutes of leisurely walking, using the shortcuts that Danny and the guys had shown you, you reached the gate that led to the set and couldn’t manage to open it just by pushing your hip against it. You knew the boys couldn’t be far; you heard strains of their conversation mixed in with the sounds of repair work being done. You got a better grip on the drink carrier, careful of the precarious ones on top, and called to them.

“Honey, I’m home!” you said, making your voice carry. “I have your presents!”

You heard jogging footsteps come up the path, and a second later, Sam rounded the corner. He opened the gate for you and gave you a sweet smile.

“Hey, kitkat,” he said. “Glad you could make it.”

You smiled. “Thanks,” you said. You nodded to the topmost coffee. “Yours is the one on top. Oatmilk, right?” You had the sudden thought that you might have gotten it wrong and felt terrible. “Unless it’s almond milk you usually get and I totally messed it up.”

“No, you didn’t,” he said quickly, taking it from you. “Oatmilk’s perfect, thank you. It’s really nice of you to bring us coffee, kitkat.”

“I figured you could use a little treat after working so hard all day,” you teased.

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, sure. Jake and Josh have spent more time writing music than repairing the set, but yeah, we’re working hard all right.”

You laughed as you started to walk with him towards the set the guys were working on. “You don’t think they can multitask?”

Sam grinned. “Have you met them?” He shook his head. “I mean, they’re writing some good stuff, so I guess I can't complain. But we’re also trying to get these sets repaired before Christmas.”

“What does Danny think?”

“Oh, you know Dan. He’s totally in the zone. He’ll have the whole place looking like Buckingham Palace by the end of the day.”

You smiled. “If Buckingham Palace was haunted.”

He laughed. “You’re getting the idea.”

The set was only a short walk from the gate, and when you reached it, you took a moment to look over the swampy pirate shack that looked much less threatening in the daylight than it had every other time you’d seen it. The boys had asked for overtime after the season was officially finished, getting a list of sets and props from the owners that needed repairs or new paint or just a little bit of cleaning. They'd been working their way through the woods for a few days, and when they were finished with the outdoor sets, they’d tackle the crown jewel of the haunted house up on the hill.

You noticed with amusement that Sam had been right about his brothers; they were working, putting a new coat of paint on the “beware of alligators” sign and the accompanying reptilian skull, but they were rather passionately working on the lyrics for a new song while they did. It was probably a good thing that the paint job could be passed off as “artistically sloppy” to fit with the ramshackle aesthetic.

“Here, glimmer twins,” you said, handing them each a cup of coffee. They gave you a pair of matching smiles.

“Aw, thanks, kitkat,” Jake said. He touched up a drip of red paint to make it a little more grisly. “How’s it looking?”

“Scary,” you said cheerfully. “How’s the songwriting?”

Jake laughed. “Good, actually. Too bad Josh isn’t as good at painting as he is at coming up with lyrics.”

Josh pointed an accusing paintbrush at his twin. “I’m terrific at painting, Jacob.”

Jake gave him a dry smile. “Start doing some, and then we can talk.”

“I’ve been painting all morning!” Josh said, gesticulating with the paintbrush again and sending drops of paint flying.

“Hey!” Sam protested. “You’re getting paint everywhere.”

“You could use a little paint on you, Sammy,” Josh teased. “The only reason you’re all pristine is because you’ve been too busy not painting to actually get anything on you.”

“Now, Josh, them’s fightin’ words,” Sam said in an exaggerated Texas twang. He took another paintbrush from the bucket and twirled it like a cowboy would spin his pistol. “This shack ain’t big enough fer the two of us.”

Smiling to yourself, you left the brothers to their playing and painting and bickering, walking around to the other side of the pirate shack to find your boyfriend. You followed the sound of a hammer and found Danny working on the porch, straddling the railing as he reached to put nails in a beam along the underside of the tin roof.

“Hey, Dan,” you called up to him. He didn’t answer, and you noticed he had earbuds in. You came closer and put your hand on his thigh.

He stopped hammering and looked down at you, his face breaking into a handsome smile when he saw you.

“Hi, honey,” he said, surprised and happy. He paused his music and put his earbuds in his pocket. “I didn’t know you were here yet.”

You felt yourself blush a little under the affection in his gaze, the warmth of his smile as he looked at you. Nearly a month after you’d made it official, you still got butterflies from how clearly he loved you and enjoyed your company.

“Here I am,” you said, almost shy. “What were you listening to?”

“Palomino,” he said. “First Aid Kit.” He kept one hand on the railing as he leaned close to kiss your nose. “I’m glad you’re here, kitkat.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of you, endeared to how sweet he always was to you. You presented him with your gift. “I brought you some coffee.”

“Aw, thanks honey,” he said. “Can you hold onto it for me until I’m done? I just have a couple more things to hang, and then I can take a break.”

“Can I stay with you while you do?” you asked, not wanting to be a bother while he worked. “I promise I won’t get in your way.”

He chuckled. “Of course you can stay.” He left his work for a moment to brush off the porch’s top step for you. “I’ll only be a few more minutes.”

You sat on the step and sipped your coffee, thankful for the warmth of your sweater as a chilly breeze fanned through the woods. Danny wore a long sleeved black shirt and jeans; you allowed yourself a long, pleasant moment of admiring how he looked in them, big and strong and limber, particularly enjoying the way the hem of his shirt rode up as he reached to hang decorations on the nails. His backwards baseball cap was the finishing touch on his mop of curls, and you liked to watch him focus on his work and look very handsome doing it.

“How’s it been going so far?” you asked.

He didn’t answer right away, and you thought maybe you should save conversation for when he was done.

“Is it distracting if I talk?”

“No,” he said, making sure the bear trap prop he was hanging was secure before looking over at you. “Sorry, I'm listening. We’ve made good progress today. I think we’ll be able to start on the house when we’re finished here.”

“Really?” you said, a little surprised. “I thought you still had the spider tunnel thing to work on.”

“That’s actually being completely torn down,” he said. He drove a nail in with a few hard whacks of the hammer and looked around for the decoration he was supposed to hang. “Can you hand me that shrunken head?”

“Oh, uh, sure.” You grimaced a little as you picked it out of the prop box. “If they’re tearing it down, what are they putting there instead?”

He took the head from you. “Thanks.” He tied a piece of fishing line to it, pulling it tight with his teeth. “I don't think they know what they’re changing it to yet, so there’s no work to do on it right now. They’re keeping the spider web tunnel, just making it shorter, and putting it between the house and the woods. So I guess we’ll have to do it when we do the house.”

You leaned against his thigh. “What do you think they should put in the spot it used to be? Or are you going to miss it being there?”

He smiled, and there was a little wryness to it that intrigued you.

“No, I don’t think I’ll miss it,” he said.

“You don’t like it?”

He shrugged. “It’s not my favorite scene. I think they should do an alien abduction thing in that spot.”

“Ooh, like a crop circle or something?” you asked. Though you didn’t like haunted houses, this one was a big part of your life since your boyfriend and three best friends spent a lot of their time there, and you'd kind of gotten into the idea side of things. “It could be like a corn maze with aliens in it.”

“Yeah, and when they snatch you, they take you to their ship to do experiments on you.” Danny wiggled his fingers at you. “Spooky.”

You laughed and took his hands in yours. “That’d probably get you lots and lots of kitkats, what do you think?” If any guest used the safeword, “kitkat”, the actors would stop scaring them and escort them out safely. That was how you’d met Danny, and the nickname had stuck.

He chuckled and gave you a kiss. “You’re the only kitkat I want. You know that.”

You gave a pleased hum and kissed him back. “Yeah, I do.”

After one more kiss, you let him get back to work, and when he was finished hanging the decorations he came to sit on the porch steps with you. You drank your coffee and talked for a while as the sun sank lower behind the trees; the air grew colder, and you snuggled close to Danny when he put an arm around you and tucked you close to his side.

“We should get dinner later,” he said. “I feel like I haven't seen you a lot this week.”

“Me too,” you said, playing absently with the macrame bracelet on his wrist. “What about pizza and a movie?”

“Sure.” He nuzzled against your cheek. “In my bedroom, not in the living room. I'm not in a sharing mood tonight.”

You smiled. “And what might you be asked to share, exactly?” Danny and the Kiszkas split rent on a big, beautiful old house, and you’d spent a lot of time over there since you all became friends.

“The pizza,” he said, matter-of-fact. “They’re not getting any.”

You laughed and turned your head to let him kiss you properly, and it took about two seconds of that for you to decide you weren’t in a sharing mood either. Jake, Josh, and Sam could fend for themselves as far as dinner was concerned.

Danny reluctantly pulled away after a few more deep kisses, and you protested by closing the distance again.

“Don’t go back to work,” you said, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

He gave you a wry smile. “Got to, honey. I want to at least get started on the house before it gets too dark.”

“How much longer?”

He gave you a goofy smooch. “Not long. You’re so sweet to be so patient, kitkat.”

“Fine,” you agreed, mollified by his affectionate tone and touch. “But all these kisses you could be giving me instead of working — I want double when we get back home.”

He smiled, showing crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes. “Yes ma'am.”

You put your hands against his cheeks. “Wait one more second, okay?”

He did as you said. You cradled his beloved face, studying the gold the sunshine brought out in his hazel irises.

“You want to know something?” you asked softly.

“Yeah,” he whispered back. “Tell me.”

You smiled. “You give me the honeyglow something awful, Danny.”

He gave a sweet laugh, and you loved the sound of it.

“What does that mean?” he asked. “I make you feel all melty and sweet and golden?”

“Something like that,” you agreed.

He kissed you tenderly. “Well, kitkat, you give me to the honeyglow too. I love you.”

Your sigh was dreamy and happy. “I love you too.”

Content with the promise of many more kisses later, you let him get back to work and helped the guys carry their tools up to the house. They wanted to get in as much work as they could before the sun set, and you didn’t mind, not really; you enjoyed keeping them company, despite the eerie atmosphere of the inside of the haunted house as it got darker outside.

“It’s missing something,” Danny said, standing back to survey the grisly surgery scene he’d just cleaned top to bottom. “What do you think, kitkat?”

Your expression scrunched in distaste, remembering the times you'd been jumpscared from a creepy doctor from behind the table. “It looks plenty scary to me.”

He gave you a fond smile. “Look at it from an artist's perspective,” he said. He pointed to a bare spot on the rack of rusty surgical instruments. “That space needs to be filled in.”

You tried to look at it as he'd said, ignoring the impulse to look away, and you had to admit he was right. “What are you going to put there?”

He shook his head. “I dunno. You want to come to the storage shed with me?”

“It’s my one and only dream,” you said dryly.

He grinned. “Attagirl. Let’s go find a bloody saw or something.”

You told the boys you were leaving for a minute, but you weren't sure they heard you as they tried to get a huge skeleton to stand up without toppling over every two seconds. Danny led you out of the house and towards the big storage shed full of props, pushing his shoulder against the door to get it to open.

He coughed a little as sawdust rained down from the ceiling. “Add this door to the list of ones that need fixing,” he said. “Good night!”

You followed him inside, feeling a little better when he pulled the chain on the overhead lightbulb. The props stacked high on shelves and hung on the walls were cast in a shadowed light, and you skirted them expertly as you helped Danny look for what he wanted.

“What about this?” he said, holding up a fake blood bag.

“Too small,” you said. “It's a pretty big spot to fill in.”

He tossed the bag back with the rest. “You’re right.”

You ventured towards the far end of the shed, looking with a critical eye through the props, and found that there was another doorway in the back wall.

“What’s in here?” you asked.

“More stuff,” he said, sifting through a box of sawed-off arms and ice picks. “This shed is actually two units stuck end to end.”

You looked through the doorway and saw something catching the light, shining faintly in the gloom — a gigantic pair of pliers painted to look recently used on some unfortunate soul.

“Hey, I think I might have found something,” you said. “In the other shed.”

He looked up from his searching. “You want me to go get it?”

“Nope,” you said stoutly. “I’m brave enough.”

He smiled. “Okay, honey. Don’t make yourself uncomfortable. If you get two steps in and ask for me, I won't even make fun of you.”

You snorted a laugh. “My hero.” You knew Danny would be nothing but kind, but surely you could handle a little walk into a dark shed full of creepy props. Right?

Getting inside the other shed turned out to be the least of your problems, since the pliers you wanted were sitting in a box on the top shelf of a very tall storage rack. You thought about asking Danny for help, since he would be able to reach them with ease, but you also wanted to get them yourself and have the bragging rights of retrieving the perfect prop. You stepped up on the bottom shelf and reached up, your fingers just grazing the handle.

“Come on,” you muttered. You stood on tiptoes and stretched out your hand — there! You grabbed the handle and pulled.

Your sense of triumph lasted half a second, because as you pulled the pliers down, the whole box came with it. You stumbled backwards to avoid the falling box, forgetting you were on the shelf and not on the floor, and careened backwards into something solid.

You whirled to see that you’d knocked into a giant Dracula, which was propped against the door you hadn’t noticed coming in. Like the world’s worst domino effect, the Dracula dummy listed to the side and swung against the door as it fell to the ground, bending the doorknob until it hung off-kilter. The door slammed closed with the momentum; the light from the other room was cut off, leaving you in complete darkness.

The effect was immediate. The prop room that had seemed harmlessly unsettling now became truly frightening, and you raced to the door to try and open it.

“Danny!” you called, starting to feel frantic. You tripped over something — Dracula, you guessed, or maybe the box — and searched feverishly for the doorknob.

It turned under your grip, and even though you knew it was Danny, the feeling of something moving without the ability to see it was nauseating.

“Kitkat?” came his voice, muffled through the door. “I’m right here, honey. Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

Your eyes welled with tears. “No, but I — I’m scared, Danny. Please get me out.”

“I’m trying, baby. Hold on.”

You heard him turn the doorknob this way and that, but the door still didn't open. Rationally, you knew that the doorknob was probably so bent that it was unusable, but the rational part of your brain wasn’t exactly in charge at the moment. You put your hand on the door and pleaded with him as if he wasn’t doing everything he could to get you out.

“Please hurry, Danny,” you all but sobbed. “Please get me out.”

“I’m trying, but I can’t — ” He swore. “I gotta get this doorknob off, honey. I’m going to get a screwdriver.”

“No! Don’t go.”

“I have to, sweetheart.” You heard his palm thump against the door. “Hey. You’re okay, kitkat. Take a few deep breaths for me, okay?”

You tried to do as he said, but they were choppy and uneven. “Danny,” you said pitifully.

“I know,” he said, and you knew his voice well enough to know he was upset. “Listen to me. I’m going to get you out just as quick as I can. Do you trust me?”

You nodded miserably, then remembered he couldn't see you. “Y-yes, Danny, I trust you.”

“There’s my brave girl. I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Okay,” you managed. “Please hurry.”

He didn't answer, and you hoped it was because he’d gone to get the screwdriver and not because he was questioning if he could leave you without sacrificing your sanity. It seemed a near thing at the moment — you wanted to stay put, but something brushed your face in the darkness, and you gave a shrill yelp and fell back against some other prop behind you.

The prop must have been set up with a motion sensor, and a gruesome clown face lit up and cackled at you. Your breath caught on a sob as you pulled back from it, stumbling over the box and the props on the floor. When you finally got your balance, you stood stock still and pressed your hands to your ears to try and block out the shrieking laugh of the clown face that seemed like it would never turn off.

“Kitkat!”

You heaved a sigh of intense relief when you heard his voice. “Danny!”

“Two seconds,” he said, already working on getting the doorknob off. It hit the floor with a metallic clang, but when he tried to open the door, the stupid Dracula mannequin blocked his way.

“There’s something in front of the door,” you said weakly. “Dracula.”

“What is it?” he asked. “Nevermind. Step back from the door, honey.”

You did, careful of the things on the floor you couldn’t see, and listened as Danny put his weight into muscling open the door. Finally, it opened with a wrenching sound that made you jump; you blinked in the light, dazed, still rooted to the spot as tears tracked down your face.

“Kitkat,” Danny said, stepping over Dracula and turning the clown head off, bringing its cackling to an abrupt end. He hovered near you, his hands extended cautiously as if he was afraid to touch you and make it worse. “Are you okay, honey? You’re not hurt, are you?”

“No, I’m not hurt,” you said in a small voice. Your expression crumpled. “Th-thank you for coming to get me, Danny.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” He gathered you in his arms then, holding you close as you grabbed a fistful of his shirt like a lifeline and gave into another round of crying. He ran his hands over your back, slow and gentle.

“I’m sorry you got stuck, baby,” he said, keeping his voice low and soothing. “That scared you pretty bad, huh?”

You nodded and pressed closer to him. He hugged you tight.

“Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if it wasn’t completely dark,” you said, your voice muffled against him. You shuddered at the memory of being locked in total darkness.

“Why didn't you turn on your flashlight?” he asked.

You looked up at him. “What?”

His smile was sympathetic and a little bemused. “The flashlight on your phone. You didn’t turn it on?”

“N-no,” you said, realizing you’d never even thought of it. You’d been so panicky that you hadn’t even used the light you carried with you all the time, and it made you feel stupid on top of everything else.

You hid behind your hands. “Great. I'm an idiot and a total wimp.”

Danny chuckled, and the sound was warm and colored with sympathy.

“My poor baby,” he said. “You just got scared, kitkat. It’s okay.”

“You wouldn't have gotten scared,” you said.

“Aw, well, I don't know. Getting locked in anywhere is kinda scary.” He gently tugged your hands away from your face and kissed the tears from your cheeks. “I’m sorry you got scared, honey.”

You put your arms around his neck. “Thanks for getting me. I’m sorry I’m such a scaredy-cat.”

“You don’t have to apologize, kitkat,” he said, gentle and amused. “I knew you were a scaredy-cat when I met you, and I still liked you just fine. I just wish I could have hulk-smashed the door open for you and rescued you like that.”

You gave a watery laugh, and he smiled and gave you a bear hug.

“There’s that smile I love so much,” he said. “Can I take you out of this creepy shed now?”

“Into the creepy house?” you asked. The sun had almost set, casting long shadows into the shed, and it wouldn’t be long before the house and the woods were completely dark too.

“No,” he said. “I figure you’ve been traumatized enough for one day. I’ll take you home.”

“To your home, right?”

He smiled. “Yeah, to my home. If that’s what you want.”

After another big squeeze, you unwound yourself from him so you could put the props to rights. He found the light, and in the amber glow of the bare bulb, you put the scattered props back in the box as he hefted Dracula into an upright position.

“No wonder this guy is in the very back,” he said, panting a little. “He weighs a freakin’ ton.”

You found the pair of pliers you'd been after and held them behind your back.

“You want to see what all this fuss was about anyway?” you asked.

He raised a brow. “Sure.”

You showed him the pliers, and his mouth tipped up in a crooked smile.

“Those are perfect, kitkat. Too bad you had to go through all that just to get them, though.”

You have a theatrical sigh. “The sacrifices I make for art.”

He laughed and took your hand as he closed up the shed, leading you back out to the dusky woods alive with birdsong and the drifting sound of your friends’ laughter. You followed their voices up to the house, thankful Danny was still holding your hand.

“Hey Dan?” you asked.

“Hm?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

He held the gate open for you. “Sure. Shoot.”

“If you’re not afraid of the dark or clowns or axe murderers or any of this stuff... what are you afraid of?”

He gave you a wry smile. “Not telling.”

You laughed. “But there is something, right? Not something fancy like the inevitability of failure or existential dread, but something normal, right?”

“There is something,” he admitted. “Something you’d probably never think of, because it's kind of stupid.”

“Oh, Danny, no,” you said kindly. “I wouldn't think it’s stupid. I'm scared of everything, so I’m probably scared of whatever it is too.”

He smiled. “Maybe. Tell you what — if you guess it correctly, I’ll tell you.”

“You promise?”

He gave a soft laugh. “Yes, kitkat, I promise.”

You found Sam and the twins working just outside the house, putting up the structure of the spider-web tunnel. They waved you over, telling Danny to get a move on to help them.

“We’re actually gonna head home,” Danny said. He held up the pliers. “I just have to put these in the surgery scene, and then we’re out of here.”

You reluctantly withdrew your hand from his. “I don't think I'll go with you to put those up.”

He smiled and kissed your cheek. “Okay, honey. I’ll be right back.”

You ventured over to where Jake, Josh, and Sam were working, watching as they fit PVC pipes together to make a few feet of tunnel. The trash bags nearby held swaths of cotton webs that went with the dozens of boxes of fake spiders.

You pulled one of the spiders out, studying the painted red eyes and big fangs.

“These aren’t so bad,” you said, kind of proud that you could hold it without flinching.

Josh grinned. “Hey, good for you, kitkat. You’re getting the hang of this haunted house thing.”

“I don't know,” you said with a laugh. You told them what had happened at the shed, and all three of them winced.

“Well, that’s not even the fun kind of scary,” Jake said. “I’m sorry, kitkat.”

“But you found ten-ton Dracula?” Sam asked, skating over the “locked in a dark storage shed” part of the story. “I’ve been wondering where he went.”

You rolled your eyes and gave him a fond smile. “Glad I could help.”

The first half of the tunnel’s structure was already finished, and you volunteered to string webbing over it until it looked like a gigantic spider’s nest. When Danny came back from his errand, you told him you wanted to stay for a little while and set it up.

“You sure?” he asked. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” you assured him. “Besides, you said you wanted to get a little more work done, and I think we found something I can do without losing my ever-loving mind.”

He smiled. “Okay. If you’re sure.” He glanced at the sinking sun. “I think we have maybe half an hour of light left.”

You all agreed to work for thirty more minutes, and there was a festive and companionable atmosphere as you put up the webs and made it look as spooky as you could. You quizzed Danny on what he was afraid of, guessing everything you were afraid of; the boys joined in the game with silly guesses like “tomato soup” and “a waterslide but instead of water it’s maple syrup”. Danny just laughed and said he wasn’t afraid of any of those things, though a few of them sounded downright unpleasant.

“I give up,” you said dramatically, sitting on an empty plastic tub. “You’re just not afraid of anything.”

“There’s something,” he assured you. “But I’m telling you, you’ll never guess. Especially considering what I do for a living.”

You narrowed your eyes. “I’ve got it. You’re afraid of drumsticks, aren’t you?”

He laughed, big and bright and joyful. “No, it’s not that. It doesn’t have to do with music.”

You kept thinking of things to guess as you worked, but you were distracted from your game when Jake started pulling out the spiders to put on the webs. He unearthed a huge fake spider from the box and made it sing “Boris the Spider” in his British accent, earning a round of laughter and cheers for such a good impression of The Who.

You looked over at Danny, intending to ask him what he thought of a slightly drunk-sounding British spider, but you were surprised to see a little uneasiness in his expression. You followed his gaze, trying to see what was making him nervous; the only thing in your vicinity was the spider in Jake’s hand.

“Danny?”

He looked from the spider to you. “Yeah, honey.”

“Are you... afraid of the fake spiders?”

He didn’t answer right away, and you knew you had him. He hadn’t hesitated answering any of the other guesses.

You gave a triumphant laugh. “Ha! I guessed it, didn’t I?”

You could have sworn you saw him blush. You pulled another spider out of the box and carried it over to him, watching his expression become more and more apprehensive the closer it got.

“You promised you would tell me if I got it right,” you said, a teasing lilt to your voice. You held the spider up, just inches from him. “Does this little guy freak you out, Daniel?”

He endured it for a few seconds before he batted it away. “Yes, fine, it freaks me out. You win.”

You laughed, not unkindly, and tossed the spider back in the box before you draped your arms over his shoulders.

“My poor baby,” you said, mimicking with affection the way he’d soothed you earlier. “I’m sorry I teased you with it. It’s okay if you’re scared of it.”

“I’m not scared, exactly,” he said, looking with distaste at the box overflowing with the plastic critters. “They’re just... creepy. They give me the heebie-jeebies.”

You smiled and gave him a consoling kiss. “My big guy’s one weakness,” you said, entirely amused. “Fake spiders. What about real spiders?”

He shrugged. “They’re fine.”

You laughed. “Of course they are.”

He watched your face, studying the lines and colors of joy he always brought out in it without even trying. His expression warmed, and you loved when you coaxed out a grudging smile.

“It’s dumb, right?” he asked.

You shook your head. “No way. I’m just surprised we found something you’re afraid of that I’m not afraid of.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, I guess that is pretty remarkable.” He kissed your cheek. “Now that you’ve uncovered my deepest, darkest secret, can we go home and order the deepest, dishiest pizza?”

You laughed. “Sure thing, honey.”

At home, you and Danny didn’t actually have the heart not to share your pizza with the boys; you got enough for everyone and watched a true crime documentary that had you hiding behind your hands during the more grisly parts.

“Okay, now I have to have a cleanse,” you said afterwards, rinsing off the plates to put them in the dishwasher. “I’m watching New Girl or something.”

Danny came up behind you and snuck a kiss under your jaw. “In my room,” he said, his voice low and meant only for you.

You gave a fluttery little laugh and pulled way when his kisses started to tickle. “Can I watch whatever I want?”

“Whatever you want,” he agreed. He bracketed you in with his arms, kissing along the column of your neck.

You considered that. “Can it be an old movie?”

“You could pick the most awful black and white silent film ever made and I absolutely would not care,” he promised. His hands snuck under the hem of your sweater and skated over your tummy, and despite how quickly you were warming to his touch, you couldn’t give up teasing him just yet.

“Okay, I know what I want to watch,” you said primly.

“Finally,” he said with a contented sigh, pulling you close to him. “What is it?”

You grinned. “The Giant Spider Invasion.”

He hummed in agreement. “Sure, honey, that sounds — ” He pulled back. “Wait, what?”

You couldn’t help but dissolve in giggles, and when his warm laugh joined in with yours, you felt the honeyglow something awful.

“Alright, trouble,” he said, kissing your cheek. “You’re a handful, you know that?”

“But I’m your handful.”

“Yes, kitkat. You’re my handful. You know what else?”

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

You smiled, feeling all melty and sweet and golden inside. “I love you too.”

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Hello there! We’ve reached Act II of Bootleggers! The second act does deal with a lot of issues that some may find difficult. As we know from Act 1 Junie was married to Mr. Archer, to which things are not so good. Just be aware that there is a lot of action, some violence, violence towards women specifically, in this piece. We continue to focus on our wildflowers, Cora (and her romance with Jacob), Molly, and Susannah. There’s a lot that happens right off the bat, so let’s get to it. Did I mention, Cora finally gets into the Lantern?!

If you're just coming across this, here is the Master List to catch up.

Thank you always to @lvnterninthenight, @gardensgatedaisy and @whitesuitjake for all of the love and support during the time I was writing this.

Also just a quick thank you and sweet hugs going out to @vanfleeter and @jakekiszkasbuttsweat for the support of this story! *mwah*

This is a work of fiction, and is totally mine. Please do not take it for your own personal use. I’ve put in hours of research, hours upon hours of writing, re-writing, screaming, yelling and vomiting over this epic of a story. But it is mine.

Content warnings: Drinking, threats of violence, imagery of violence, hopelessness, anxiousness.

Word Count: approx 6300

Chapter Eleven: Bank, The Moon, and the Lantern, Junie’s Plight - Jacob POV

The weight of the air crushed his lungs and scalded the inside of his body. Josh continued speaking, reading the letter from their father, but Jake was only focused on one thing - there was dissent amongst the families that their affiliation rode upon. One of the top bosses had split, claiming distribution was not what it could be. Their father was merely alerting his boys to possible issues coming their way over the next months. With winter coming, and the driving routes effectively shut down due to snow, their father was warning them of shit coming their way no matter what they did.

“It’s time we get the bank,” Josh said, tossing the paper on the desk. “It may smooth some of the feathers for a while.”

Jacob was shaking his head. The bank. Josh had been obsessed for nearly a year. His contacts were saying that it was time - Archer had been dealt a blow served by his own stupidity. His affairs were unraveling and the venomous gossip was turning into facts. He puffed out his cheeks as he shifted against the window.

“How many more runs you think we can complete?” Josh asked.

Jacob shrugged as Sam and Danny leaned back in their seats. “If I had the Earl, I would get maybe five majors where I’m involved - four smaller ones that it’s just the trucks. But as is, we’re having to make up the large runs with twice as many small runs. Marquette county has become off limits to the trucks without me to be the bait. We add a shit ton of miles by having to run south through Delta and Menominee counties, not to mention a lot more area to get fucked by not having friends. We’re running behind as it is and won’t have enough product to last the winter for Iron County, let alone to fulfill expected deliveries to Chicago. We can’t be running the trucks beyond October anyway unless we want to dig out every few miles.”

Danny nodded. “Our first year we got in that one run in November, but I wouldn’t count on it. Even with the damn chains on the tires, a few of the trucks didn’t make the target.”

“Yeah, and we said we wouldn’t do that again,” Jake remarked with a grimace. “Remember? We almost lost three trucks on swampy assed roads. And - we lost that one skating off into a goddamn lake.”

“It’s all fucking moot anyway,” Sam remarked. “The Earl is dead.”

“She’s not dead,” Jake grumbled. “There’s nothing wrong with the engine.”

“But the fucking shell that makes it a car is dead. There’s nothing left for me to fix if there’s no body left, Jake. I sent word to Father when you dragged her into the shop. There’s something on the way. Should be here at any time.”

“It’s going to be a fucking disaster,” Jake whispered angrily.

“I’m going before the board of trustees for the bank in two weeks,” Josh said before lighting up a cigarette and cutting off the direction of the conversation. “I have all but a few votes for no confidence on the part of Mr. Archer. It will be enough to remove him as bank president. I have an offering to present that will put us into control. The last round of acquisitions put our line above my expected results, and offers more than enough holdings to solidify our position as main shareholder and bank president.”

Jacob sat up straight. Josh nodded to let Danny and Sam leave, but he stayed behind, closing the door behind the men. Turning, he felt his twin’s gaze on him in question.

“I have two weeks?” he asked as he watched Josh stamp out his smoke.

“Two weeks for what?” Josh returned disinterested.

“Junie? Cora’s sister,” Jake answered. “If you make a move now, and Archer is removed, he will disappear with her. You and I both know that girl won’t have a chance of survival if he ‘moves’ her. Hell, I don’t know if she’s actually surviving now. They won’t even let the mother inside to see the girl.”

Josh’s brows knitted in thought. Jake knew if there was one thing that his brother did not tolerate was a man who mistreated women in the fashion that Archer was accustomed to. His brother was thinking things through as he kicked his feet up on the desk.

“I may not show it, Jake, but I’ve grown very fond of Cora. I am envious of you,” he said quietly. “She has a softness and fortitude that is very comely. She’s been good for you.”

He rubbed the pad of his thumb across stray stubbles on the underside of his chin. “You and I both know that the current Mrs. Archer will not have a chance if we make this move on the bank.”

Josh nodded. Jacob could see the storm clouds behind his brother’s thoughts as he tapped the top of the desk. “I’ll get us over there Sunday. Have Cora with you. It will give me time to think this through.”

Jake lit up a smoke before reaching for his hat. “Thank you.”

“Are you avoiding taking her to the Lantern?” Josh asked as he moved towards the door.

He stopped before reaching for the doorknob. “Not avoiding. Just never asked if that’d be something she’d-”

“Jacob,” his twin said, moving around behind him. “It’s not like how things are with Susannah and Molly - or shit, even Catherine. Do not say it - I know that mistake was blatant on my part. But Cora’s a different breed. She’s a different caliper altogether. People in this town know her as something on the side of respectable - no reputation other than a churchgoing woman of no rank. You literally can mold her into anything you want her to be at this point.”

“I don’t want to mold her into anything. I love her as she is,” he whispered.

Josh hummed, drawing his attention back to his brother. “Then we should protect her and her own as is, shouldn’t we?”

He felt his eyes close for a moment and relief poured in. His brother was accepting the situation and offering a life line. This was his Joshua. His hand came down on Jake’s arm, giving it a bit of a squeeze. It was an acquiescence of events that had to be buried in the past and never revisited.

“I know you want out, same as I,” Josh said quietly. “It is still the goal. What I am trying to do, Brother, is to never have to return to this life. Once we are done here - we are done.”

Jake nodded slowly. “It’s going to get messy.”

“Let’s be honest and say what it will be, Jacob. It’s going to be a fucking bloody matter. The bank is just the first of many steps.”

His throat constricted as he opened the office door. Josh was right, of course. It was juvenile to think that they were going to be able to leave the life unscathed. Sam was just coming in the shop door, his face full of light as Jacob refocused his thoughts to the task at hand.

“It’s here, Jake!” his younger brother’s voice was full of excitement. “You’ve got to see this.”

Change was not high on Jake’s list of likes. Since the last disastrous run of the Earl, it was clear that his baby needed to be replaced. Josh was right behind him as he walked quickly past customers with his best professional smile. Sam was already around the corner and through the alley, while the twins tried to keep cool. The first he saw was the shiny black and chrome, followed by the sheer size of the vehicle. Sam was full of glint as he was already in the engine, making sounds of delight as he poked and prodded.

“It’s a goddamn roadster! I can already tell you it’s too fucking heavy!” Jake grumbled, his eyes on the bulk of the car. “There’s no way to have this shit ready for the next run.”

“We’ve got work to do, sure,” Sam said with a shrug. A demon grin came across his mouth. “But I can get this bitch up to sixty five, maybe seventy. We’ve just got to get her skinny.”

Jacob felt his jaw slacken. “One week, Samuel.”

“Considering it’ll take forever to bring the Earl back to life…”

“Then let’s get to work, Sam.”

Chapter Eleven: Pt. 2, Cora POV

Jacob did not arrive on time to collect the box. Instead of waiting for him, or stowing it in the locker, Cora decided to take it around to the shop office herself. Gathering her things, she took hold of the cashbox and headed out, waving at Marcus on her way down to the main door. The bouncer had taken a shine to her since she showed up unannounced. He would drop her treats and sandwiches with a grin, just to let her know he was there. She started bringing him bits of scratch biscuits and jam in trade. His beam at the sight would last her through the entire evening.

Making her way up the alley, she could hear Sam cursing up a storm, underscored by Jake scolding him for being a dumbass. She stepped into the store to find it closed and Renee was already gone. She could smell fresh tobacco, so she was sure Mr. Joshua was still in his office.

“Mr. Kiszka?” she called out before she reached the door to alert him of her presence.

“Good evening, Cora,” he said with a smile. His face warmed as he stood up. “I think it would be fine if we dropped the formalities, even for work, don’t you think?”

Cora nodded as she held out the box. “It was a really busy day back there and I didn’t feel right leaving this in the locker.”

He took it from her and moved towards the safe. “I didn’t think that Jake would get back there at closing time. Means you didn’t see the new lady.”

“Lady? Did you hire another shop girl?” she asked, looking over her shoulder into the shop.

“No. Come on, lovely. Jacob got himself a new toy today,” he said. “I’m quite curious to see how it’s panning out actually. Shall we? I wanted to speak with you anyway.”

“Me?”

He nodded as he stepped out of the office with her and locked the door. “I spoke with Jacob earlier. Sunday, we will be going to the Archer residence. It will just be the three of us, however. I fear that we will have to be a little pushy and use some subterfuge to get ourselves inside, but the man honestly does not like a public scene, so there’s that.”

Cora took his offered elbow as they moved outside and locked the heavy shop door. He waited until they were around the corner in the alley to continue.

“I will be reaching out to our Aunt Dotty. She’s good people, Cora. Her distance from here will provide safety.” She turned and looked at him as his words began to sink into her mind. “Sunday, I need you to assess if your sister is well enough to travel. There are events coming up that will take some finesse, but if it goes right - I will send her to Wisconsin, away from that fuck of a husband. Is that well with you?”

Her jaw dropped as Josh turned his dark eyes on her. This man was offering his help in the only way he knew how - abrupt, precise, and well-planned. She nodded and he patted her hand on his arm. The language spilling out of the garage made her stomach feel sour. The tones were hard and angry as tools sounded like they were smashing on benches and the concrete.

“There’s just one thing,” she said as they stood away from the carriage building doors. “If she wants to leave.”

Joshua’s face grew still, reflective. “Cora, I think I know you well enough to speak plainly. Harold Archer is a villain. Do not underestimate that man. There’s a reason why he has ‘lost’ three wives in six years, and it’s not due to childbirth.”

Shock percolated under her skin. She swallowed words that wanted to bubble out. Joshua smoothed his fingers across her hand once more.

“Sounds like they are going to rip each other apart in there,” he said with a smirk. “What fun.”

They stepped in to find both men red faced with heaving chests. Sam was the first to spot them, his lip curled in anger. Cora drew in a breath at the sight of Jacob, hand drawn back with a heavy metal tool. He whipped his head around, eyes flared on her the moment Sam moved.

“I was going to use the term ‘gentlemen’ but, here we are,” Josh remarked smoothly. “Perhaps I should walk you home, Cora, let these two beat some sense into each other.”

Jacob straightened up, glaring at his younger sibling as he set the implement against one of the workbenches, close to his shirt and jacket. Sam remained on guard, albeit not as tight as Jacob slid into his dress shirt.

“Right, so Cora,” Josh whispered as Jacob dressed, “tomorrow night, I would like you to come down to the Lantern with us. I think you’ll like the canary that will be visiting, and if Sammy doesn’t break any fingers fighting, he’s going to be playing as well.”

Cora found that she could not look away from Josh’s dark eyes. This was not professional businessman Mr. Kiszka. There was a humor in his eyes that she had never noticed, a mischievousness that Jacob did not possess. “I’d like that,” she answered with a nod.

“What’s that now?” Jacob asked as he was yanking at his tie.

“Your girl will be accompanying you tomorrow night to the Lantern,” Josh remarked with a toothy grin.

Jacob paused, eyes froze on his twin. “Really?”

“Why Miss Cora, you comin’ to see little old me play tomorrow?” Sam called from across the garage. “The girls are going to love having you there.”

Chapter Eleven: Pt. 3, Molly POV

“I have something I want you to try, dolly,” she said, dragging Cora towards the spare bedroom of her house.

“I was going to wear the rose gold number,” Cora remarked, giving her a bit of resistance.

“While that is very lovely and all, you’re visiting the Lantern,” Molly reminded, achieving her goal of getting to the clothes den. “You need something… more.”

When Cora raised her eyes to the ceiling, Molly knew this was more about her friend’s need to do things for herself. She more than understood the need - having had to carve everything out for herself. However, to be able to provide for her friends - her sisters - was beyond anything that Molly could have dreamed of achieving. She knew there would be resistance, so she made sure to leave the little black number on the bed specifically for ease of access.

“Trust me, Cora love,” she said with a wave of her hands. “This one is specifically for the Lantern. Your silk number is perfect for The Boudreau, even the tea parlor, or church and Sunday visits. This chiffon is what is required at the speakeasy.”

She watched as the woman’s jaw dropped. The black chiffon had intricate Art Deco designed glass beadwork that covered the entire piece. Cora picked the material up, her eyes closing against the feel of the textile.

“And look at these oyster fruits - aren’t they the cat’s meow?” She held up the choker that had strands that hung down the back.

Cora looked skeptical until she held the cocktail dress up and turned it around to reveal the extreme low cut that would expose the back until just above the swell of the bottom. Her eyes bulged.

“Now hold it there, missy boo,” Molly was quick to say as her friend was shutting down the idea of wearing the garment. “This is the Lantern. This rag will be more modest on the attire spectrum that you will be seeing tonight. The difference here is, Cora, you can pull this off without garment aids.”

“Molly!”

“I want you to just try it on, don’t worry about the choker, or the lovely hair piece that will go with it,” she held the feather and pearl and beaded band up for her to see. “Just put the dress on. Give it a chance. Susannah will be here to do your hair any moment.”

Cora made a sound as Molly hurried from the room. Honestly, the girl needed to figure it out. She was less of a prude than she knew, or at least needed to be. Molly was sure the moment she had the dress on, she would change her mind. The moment Jake saw her would be the tipping point. The man would most likely melt on the spot at first sight. He would also probably be fighting every other man in the room who happened to look at her a certain way.

Susannah was just walking into the house as Molly walked back to the main room. She was dressed in a sleek steel blue number that complimented her pale skin. Molly smiled as she tried to not listen to Cora’s scoffs and guffaws.

“What’s going on?” Susannah asked, setting her small bag of supplies down for doing hair and makeup.

“I’ve got Cora trying on something a little different,” Molly whispered with a devilish grin.

The two friends laughed quietly as Cora let out a huff before opening the door.

“I can’t do this!” she trilled, unwilling to walk out.

“Come on, dolly. Let us old hens be the judge of that,” Susannah called out.

Molly felt her lips drag in between her teeth to keep from getting upset. The woman was more stubborn than need be at times, and it was one of those times. Finally, she stepped into the light of the sitting room, her face stoic in her upset. Susannah’s head tilted as the air seemed to escape from the room.

“Might as well start calling you ‘Sticks’ because you got fucking gams, baby,” Susannah said, her tone shocked.

The dress hung on Cora’s frame exactly how she had imagined it would; clinging to her hips just right to lay against her legs to make them look like they were long and strong but delicate at the ankle. The high neckline made her torso look long and lean. Molly let out a soft breath.

“Maybe that dress was not the right one. You’ll make the two of us look like we’re dressed for the slops,” she said softly. “Damn. You’re beautiful.”

Cora’s cheeks flushed red. “Are you sure it’s not too risque?”

Both women shook their heads slowly. Susannah set in to doing Cora’s hair while Molly dressed in her ruby colored mini that had the fringe that kissed her calves. She was thankful that the two women were laughing by the time she finished, bringing out shoes for her and Cora. Susannah made gooey eyes at her as she slid into the black heels to complete her look.

“Looks like you were right, mama,” Susannah sighed as Cora stood up to reveal the completed look. “The rest of us might as well check out tonight. All eyes are going to be on this one.”

“Jacob is so going to be gobsmacked,” Molly cooed. “That poor man is not going to know what hit him.”

Much like the evening of taking Cora to the dancehall, the three friends walked into the evening together. Danny met them outside of the dancehall, leading them through the crowded space towards the employee only door. Molly held her lover back to allow Susannah and Cora to walk ahead of them just to take in the reaction of those who saw her handiwork.

They all said hello to Marcus as they took the back stairs down to the Lantern. The bouncer tipped his hat to Cora who laughed and reached out to hand the man something from her clutch.

“Thank you, Miss Cora,” he said smoothly as he watched them go down the stairs. At Molly’s raised eyebrow, he laughed. “The woman is kind enough to bring me cookies and biscuits. You lot don’t do that – at all.”

“I’ll remember that, Marcus, for next time! Promise!” Molly called out as Danny held the door open for the ladies to pass.

Danny’s hand landed in a press against her hip as they walked into the speakeasy. “I don’t know what you’re expecting tonight, but you really did up Cora, didn’t you love?” he asked as they trailed behind Susannah.

“No expectations, just dolling her up for the evening,” she answered with a grin and a batting of her eyelashes.

Jacob was on his feet before they had crossed the dance floor. His dark eyes were shimmering as they took in the sight of his girl. Molly felt a little smug. Putting the window dressing on Cora gave her such pleasure in seeing the impact that she could have on those around her. She watched as Jacob moved around the table, walking on a collision course with them. The sheer possession that radiated out of the man’s face reminded her of the rare times that she could elicit from Danny. He reached for her, slamming his mouth into hers, effectively letting everyone in that room know it was hands off of little Miss Cora.

Chapter Eleven: Pt. 4, Cora POV

The nerves that jolted her stomach as she followed Susannah into the Lantern made her want to vomit. She felt ridiculous as the first eyes to take her in seemed to stay glued to her. The smell of the room was tobacco and liquor and an assault of several perfumes blending together to make an overwhelming musk. The air was hot with a current that could only be described as a Saturday night - expectations of fun and music filled the air. The laughter was loud and the jazz band was louder. Unlike her previous appearance, Cora felt as if she was still trespassing, but only because the space was new to her. Her eyes went right to Jacob to find that he was already moving towards her. The look on his face was nothing like anything she had seen from him.

Before she could say hello, he had her around the waist, his fingers pressing into the exposed skin of her back and his mouth against hers in a deep kiss. Her heart thundered in her chest as his heat pressed against her, rooting her to the spot. There was no one else in the room. Just him holding onto her. She was slow to open her eyes to look at him.

“You look like you’re a heroine in a movie,” he whispered, dragging a finger down her cheek as his other hand ghosted down her back.

Sharp notes on the piano pierced the air as the lights dimmed. Jacob grinned as he nearly seemed reluctant to lead her to the table, but he held a chair out next to his seat. A waiter brought a few bottles of wine and glasses for the table. Joshua whispered a hello and shared a smile. Cora felt the nerves fall away to finally allow her to realize that Samuel sat at the piano. The room hushed as he settled himself in.

“Rhapsody in Blue,” he said without looking out at the crowd that waited. “Gershwin.”

The notes that started to fill the space made her heart feel like it was journeying through a space that was crowded and wonder filled. Samuel’s face was full of concentration and his body was rigid as he played. Not a sound was uttered by anyone. It was like he held the room enthralled. Pressure on the pad of her thumb drew her attention down to her lap. Jacob tugged the digit along, before caressing across the back of her hand, only to flip it and trace the lines of her palm. Looking into his face, she wanted to touch him, trace the lines of his cheekbones and jaw and brows. Instead, he continued to trace her fingers, the ridges of her knuckles, the planes of her palm.

She twirled her fingers into his, and he let her turn his palm up in her lap, running the pads of her own fingers across his, only to have him enclose her hand and take over. Looking up into his eyes, she discovered he had shifted to return her gaze. Cora felt her insides grow anxious. Her breath grew hot as her brain seized on one notion - she was in love. Her eyes began to tear as his brow flinched with concern. Sniffing, she felt silly and reached for a sip of wine to tear herself away from the moment. It was not like the wine Joshua had during their Sunday suppers, this was sweeter and lighter. Cora swallowed it down, only to look back at him and find herself wanting.

Gently, he tugged her back against him so that his mouth could land against her ear. “What’s happening, Finch?”

“I’m all jumbled up,” she whispered back.

He cupped her cheek as he placed a chaste kiss against her temple. “”What’s causing that, baby?”

“I’m in love with a good man,” she whispered into his ear, watching as the skin of his cheek became a soft shade of pink.

His eyes widened for a moment. Cora’s heart raced all the faster as he stared back at her, his face blank of emotion. He brushed his thumb across her jaw before cradling her cheek in his palm. A small smile graced his face as his brother played furiously to a crowd that seemed just as mesmerized as she felt. The room erupted in cheers, but all she could do was stay in stillness with Jacob. He barely leaned forward, his mouth pressing against her for the briefest of moments.

“You’re my beautiful finch, aren’t you?” he whispered into her skin.

Her heart swelled as he looped his finger through a curl by her ear. She felt loved. Her body hummed with each touch and caress. Her brain barely registered the intricate song that flowed across the air, but knew the moment was something special. The night twirled around her and Jacob, filled with wine and dance and music and friends that had become her family. Her heart did not just feel full. It was brimming out into the air, tethering her to a moment that she dared not forget. Not ever.

Chapter Eleven: Pt. 5, Cora POV

The anxiety spiked in her belly as the housekeeper blocked the door. She tightened her hold on Jacob’s elbow, capturing his attention, albeit briefly.

“Mr. Archer is not receiving visitors today,” the woman remarked, but Josh was already standing in the way of the door.

“I have a receipt of appointment, Mrs. Meyerson,” he said, holding out a piece of heavy writing paper. “We have private business to speak about and we are already running tardy.”

She took the slip, looking at it skeptically. Cora realized the woman was simply looking for her employer’s mark, her eyes obviously unable to read.

“The girl is not welcomed as Mrs. Archer is ill and unable to-”

“Unwelcomed?” Jacob breathed his tone incredulous. “This is Mrs. Archer’s sister. Perhaps instead of looking after her yourself, she can look in on the woman. Tend to her for you.”

“Give yourself a respite,” Joshua echoed. “Lord knows you deserve one, Mrs. Meyerson. This big old house to run by yourself. With no help and all.”

Cora shoved her nerves to the side, placing as much warmth into her smile as she could muster. “Absolutely. Please, Mrs. Meyerson - I’m more than happy to provide you with assistance in June’s matter,” she said calmly.

She looked down at the appointment receipt once more. Nodding slowly, she moved to the side, admitting them into the foyer. She waved at Cora to stay, while she led Joshua and Jacob into the parlor. Standing alone, she tried to not fidget, not appear to be anxious. Mrs. Meyerson returned, motioning for her to follow her up the stairs. Three closed doors down the lavishly wood clad hallway and the woman stopped. Cora noticed a sour smell in the air that made her stomach churn.

“Perhaps if your sister knew how to take better care of herself, she would not be in this predicament,” the woman replied with an air of dispassion.

Cora did not look at her, instead opening the door to the dark room beyond. She heard a whimper that prickled at her heart. The fear that flooded her in the air made her sick. Mrs. Meyerson let out a scoff before turning and walking away.

“Junie? Junebug? It’s me, Cora,” she whispered as she stepped inside.

The slab of a bed surprised her. As her eyes adjusted, she realized the bed was little more than bales of straw with material covering the top of it. June was curled onto herself, her tiny frame shivering.

“Junie?” Cora asked once more, trying to sound anything but scared.

The form in the makeshift bed quivered but did not make large movements. The frame of the girl was sickly, her belly swollen, but her limbs were near bones.

“Oh baby sister,” she cooed as she drew closer. “It’s Cora.”

Junie’s shoulders tensed as Cora reached out to touch her arm. Recognition flitted through her wild eyes. Cora choked as a shattering realization crashed into her chest as her heart strangled with pain. Her sister looked near inhuman from wounds and bruising that stemmed from the top of her head to the soles of her feet. The smell of urine and feces struck her nose as Junie tried to hide herself in the flimsy, soiled nightdress she wore. Again, Cora tried to wrap her hand around her sister’s frail arm.

“Junebug,” she soothed. “Junie, it’s me. I’m here.”

Junie’s eyes were little more than voids as she wildly looked at her. It was obvious the girl had come to know cruelty. Her lips were heavily scabbed and her cheeks were sunk against her once pretty face. The pain that her sister was experiencing turned her skin to flame with hopelessness.

“Cora?” the word came out as a dry, fragile shriek.

Cora cursed under her breath before she could stop herself. She turned towards the door, waiting, listening to anyone who may have heard. Bringing her hands back up so that Junie could see she meant no harm, she tried to lean in closer.

“Junie, just listen to me. Be strong. One more week, and I’m coming for you,” she whispered, trying to keep her features calm. “One more week and a bit. Ten days. You count the days. I will be coming for you and you’ll never set foot in this damned house again. But it has to be our secret. Just ours - do not tell anyone.”

“Sister…”

Cora hushed her. There were footfalls approaching. “Ten days. I’m coming back for you, Junie. You be strong and hold on. Do you hear me?”

Her sister’s haunted eyes flared as Mrs. Meyerson stepped inside. “That’s quite enough of this lot, miss. You’re obviously only upsetting her.”

Cora had never wanted to cause anyone harm of any kind before that moment. Not even Kilbourne and his smarmy ways of taking advantage of the family caused her such a wish to do harm. The woman before her sent fury through her veins and punched at her spirit. Glancing back at Junie, she shored up her emotions before following the housekeeper back into the hallway and down the stairs. Jacob and Joshua were standing just inside the doors of the parlor, their voices hushed as she descended. She could hear Archer’s voice, low and threatening but the actual words were muffled across the distance.

Jacob caught her gaze, tapping his twin’s elbow before he turned his body towards her. Silently, he offered his hand for her to take.

“Thank you, Mr. Archer,” Joshua was saying in a smooth, professional manner. “I look forward to the board meeting next Wednesday. I think you and I have some wonderful opportunities to grow these plans, sir.”

Jacob had her out the door before Archer could see her. Cora felt her eyes and mouth twitching as she forced herself to remain stoic. Her chest started heaving by the time they reached the white fence of the front lawn. She heard him curse as he wrapped an arm around her waist.

“Let’s get you to the house,” he whispered, holding her up as he started walking quickly. “Hold on, baby, just a little further.”

She heard him call out for his brother and the fast clack of heels on the concrete walk rang out in answer. The two men worked together to get the three of them to the Kiszka household without allowing anyone to notice the mess that they actually were at the moment. Inside, Jacob whisked her up the stairs to his room. Josh was right behind, pouring glasses of amber colored liquid on the sideboard. She had not realized that she was gasping for breath in between sobs. Jacob helped her to sit on the edge of the bed before kneeling before her, hands wrapped around hers tightly. The two gently patted and rubbed against her in an attempt to soothe.

“They treat her like an animal,” she cried. “Worse than an animal.”

Josh handed her one glass before bringing his own to his lips. She mirrored him, taking a large sip of whatever it was he had given her. She gasped and sputtered as the liquid shocked and burned its way down her gullet.

“Not helping, Josh,” Jacob scolded, taking her glass away. “What the hell happened in there?”

Cora realized the question was pointed at her and both men waited for her answer. “It doesn’t matter if she’s strong enough to travel or not. She’s dying in that house. She doesn’t even know if she’s human. She can’t travel - not alone.”

Both men paused with heat in their eyes and curses on their lips. Cora felt the defeat cool in her veins as Jacob slid his hand against hers, threading their fingers together.

“There’s no way for my family to hide her,” she whispered. “I can’t leave them behind. There would be no way they could just go like that - it’s been so hard as it is… Jacob, I can’t leave you behind.”

He took in an audible breath and squeezed her hand, his forehead coming to rest on her knee. Josh placed a calming touch to his brother’s back.

“There are some pieces for me to figure out,” Josh said, before taking down the rest of his drink. “After we do this, it’s going to be important we all just keep to our roles.”

All three froze hearing Samuel and Daniel banging around downstairs. Josh picked up Cora’s glass and set them on the sideboard.

“I’ll, uh, run interference with those four. Cora, don’t worry about anything today,” Josh said, his voice gentle. “I’ll have something planned out soon.”

“Thank you, Joshua,” she said before he walked out.

“It’s what we’re supposed to do for each other right? Now that we’re family?” Josh asked with a smile.

The room was silent. Cora found her fingers smoothing across Jacob’s hair as he remained still, resting against her knees.

“You can leave, Finch,” he whispered. “You can get Junie out of here.”

“No,” she said firmly as he sat back on his heels to look at her. “Joshua said it himself, we’re all going to have to remain in the roles we play. If I am gone, my family has no means for anything, let alone cover the rent. I cannot leave them vulnerable.”

“You can lean on me,” he said softly. “I’m more than happy to watch after them.”

She was shaking her head. “It’s my responsibility.”

“Cora, I’m not saying leave forever. Just get her to safety. She is going to need someone she knows - someone she trusts - to be with her.”

Cora watched as he pressed his mouth against her hands. Her heart was fracturing. “It would be selfish of me to ask you to come with me,” she eeked out as he rose up against her.

“Baby, I’d go anywhere with you,” he said, his hand cupping her cheek. “But this time, let me take care of your family while you settle Junie. It is what I can do. I’ll protect them, make sure they are secure. You can do this. Take care of your baby sister.”

She nodded as a sob sighed from her. He smiled before kissing her, slow at first, deepening as he tugged at her to slide down against his frame to land on his lap. He passed his knuckles down her jaw before he wiped at the few tears that had escaped.

“I love a good woman,” he whispered, studying her face, his fingers tracing the shell of her ear. “I love a strong woman.”

She threw her arms around his shoulders. Josh called her family. Jacob loved her. She was going to shelter her sister. A steadfast strength began to pump through her as he held tight to her. Cora could not help but to cry and laugh and sigh against him, absorbing every ounce of confidence he would give her.

Hi again. I hope you liked today’s chapter. Leave me a comment about your thoughts, or just a like. I do have a tag list - you can find it here. I will have Chapter 12 AND Chapter 13 up on Friday, sometime around noon CST. There’s a reason for having both. You’ll see.

@lvnterninthenight @doodle417 @luverleaver @jakesgrapejuice @fictional-duchess @whitesuitjake @milkgemini @positivegvfthings @songbirds-sweet @streamingcolors-gvf @gretavanbitches @samsurfgreenbass @gardensgatedaisy @babyhoneygvfarchive @myownparadise96 @josh-iamyour-mama @starcatchercarol @loveisonaroll @jakesstarlight @myownparadise96 @reesetrippingthelight @kyrose11 @builtby-gvf @ignite-my-fire @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @wetkleenex-gvf @gold-mines-melting @starsasone @puzzle-gvf @mysticalstarcatcher @montenegroisr @takenbythemadness @brookes-so-done @way-to-go-lad @cal-a-bungaa @lightmylove-gvf @thewritingbeforesunrise @leftjudgeempathsuitcase @brokenbells11 @imborrowedshesblue @vanfleeter @sammysvanfeet @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @jaketlove @redsierra1960 @gvfmarge @becinabubblegvf @wildbluesorbit

#greta van fleet #gvf #jake gvf #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #josh gvf #sammy gvf #sam gvf #daniel gvf #danny gvf #greta van fleet fanfic #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet fanfic au #greta van fleet au fic #greta van fleet x ocs #bootleggers and wildflowers

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living-carto0n · 6 months

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Manager had me put a sign up over the dish sink at work.

I decided to add a little bit of funny to it

Don't feed the Drain Ogre...

He's trying to build an indoor swamp...

If you want soggy swamp sandwiches, go down the road a little... This is Jimmy John's, not Swampy Sam's

#Drain Ogre #DO NOT FEED HIM #say no to the indoor swamp #pls reblog #lol #shitposting #shitty mcshitpost #memes #funny #please say is funny #beep beep #my work #fun at work #posting dumb shit #jimmy jobs #I'm a jimployee

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giuliamarcovaldo · 3 months

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some of my thoughts on octopia so far !! (spoilers i guess?)

i love that daniel and daniel are existing together and so far no one has questioned that william gave them the same name

the scarecrow’s face changing to predict the weather is so cute (and sam copying its face of course)

additionally- making the scarecrow this universe’s mayor hoffman is so fucking funny

magical self-refilling watering can is a W

being able to use the axe for the trees AND rocks also a W (no switching between tools is so convenient)

the clock at the top of the screen/progress bar so that you can see how much of the day is left is a nice inclusion

love the cute moon and sun graphics that show up when it’s loading between days!!

petting the animals!!! :D i wish i could name them too 😭

absolutely LOVE the character album... i can’t wait to see all of the character icons :3

no fridge so far… i miss its quotes :(

mysterious bunker in the swampy area?? feels very familiar… what is it for… where does it go….

all in all i’m really enjoying it!! i’m so glad that sam and john are finally getting to live a peaceful life 😭

#definitely have more but this is just off the top of my head #eastward octopia #eastward octopia spoilers #eastward game #eastward #octopia #mine

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ahit-oc-corner · 2 months

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Their so silly there's totally nothing wrong with them-

#kaileedraws #a hat in time #the snatcher #ahit snatcher #a hat in time oc #ahit oc #swampy sam #subcon swamp #i did have an idea to do an oc interaction thing?? with Sam where it was with their shady shop where people could reply with their ahit ocs #reacting/ how they might talk to Sam at their shady junk shop :] then id draw response back #but i haven't finished it and I'm not sure if anyone would want to? i think i posted the wip of it here?? not sure #Sam is very chill and silly and up to no good

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fujobrainrot · 19 days

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Part 1: ill wind

I can't draw rn but I keep having thoughts™, so I decided to try to write them instead. This is part 1 of however many. I already wrote 3 parts and I'll post them soon, after I finish editing them. This is unbeta'd so I welcome any constructive criticism. The lore is completely fucked because of changes in the timeline so just roll with it. Title is from a Radiohead song

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1600-ish words, gen, no ships, no TWs (may change in the future), John centric/John's POV

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Summary: John didn't die and Sam is deep into his blood addiction.

He never thought he'd live to see the day that Sam would succumb to the filth inside him. He always knew he'd be the one to kill him once he did.

John had followed Sam from the motel where he shared a room with the demon Ruby. Whose blood he drank regularly. Azazel’s rot - his Sammy would never do something so vile of his own volition. His plan had been to confront Sam there, in the parking lot of the motel, and kill the monster his son had become. After that, he would hunt down Ruby and deal with her. He had never told his sons, didn’t want them to use it, but he possessed a knife that could kill demons, acquired through means he was not proud of. He had used it only once, in a scuffle where he had no choice, it was either kill or die, no time for an exorcism. But as the demon died, so did the host. John was no stranger to murder - he had done unspeakable things in his time with the marines, and more yet to protect his Sammy from a group of hunters who had learned of the boy’s tainted blood and decided to take matters into their own hands - but his vow as a hunter was to protect people, and he would uphold it as best he could. God help him, though, he would make an exception for Ruby. He knew nothing of the poor woman she had locked away inside herself. Was she a sister? A mother? What were her dreams, aspirations, hobbies, talents? It didn’t matter, she would die too.

There, in that parking lot, looking at Sam, however, he couldn’t do it. With his heart beating fast, mouth dry, his hands trembling, his blood rushing so fast he could hear nothing else, he hesitated. By the time he came to his senses, Sam was already in his car. So he followed him. John had hotwired the oldest, most decrepit car he could find before coming here, couldn't just take the Impala given the circumstances, and used it to follow Sam expertly. He had taught his boys everything they knew, everything that made them, including their faults and weaknesses. Maybe those most of all. So he knew exactly how to tail them unnoticed, had done it before.

It had to be tonight. Not another day could pass, John refused to let his boy deteriorate further.

Sam seemed to have been headed to the closest dive bar at first, but after parking, he walked past it and into the wilderness behind it. John knew how to traverse any environment, be it urban or wild, without making a sound, knew how to take advantage of blind spots and shadows. Especially an environment like this, with thick flora, hot and damp and alive. It reminded him of his service, put him in a very specific mindset, like he could go through with any order, regardless of how opposed to it he may be. Made him feel like a soldier. Ready - and yet unprepared.

After some time stalking his son, when he feels he’s far enough away from civilization, he decides it’s time, can’t delay this any longer. He raises his gun and shouts Sam’s name.

Sam turns quickly and meets his father’s eyes in the gloom, his own demon-black and large in surprise, and John's full of anger and the fear he can't allow himself to feel. John grips his gun with both hands on the handle, finger on the trigger, safety off, muzzle trained on Sam’s heart. He’s marine steady.

The air is stale and humid in this swampy forest and his boots caked in mud. John's feet are uncomfortable inside damp are socks. Surrounding them are the sounds of insects, frogs, the occasional howl of some canid. It makes John sweat with anticipation, but he can see that his son's skin is dry, unnaturally so. Lit by the full moon filtered by the canopy above them, he looks pale, long dead. Marble smooth.

Sam's mouth slowly curls into a mirthful and derisive smile, one that looks like it should show sharp blood-covered fangs instead of his son’s perfect white teeth. His dimples frame that disgusting grin in a way that turns John's stomach with the wrongness of it. It's uncanny. His hands are still steady though. It has to be tonight.

Sam breaks the silence with a snicker. “What do you think you’re doing?” he pauses, but John can’t say a word. “Are you here to kill me?”, he laughs again, louder, cruel. John’s doesn’t falter, but his throat is tight and dry, can’t force out a single word. He won’t admit it but the fact is that, under Sam’s gaze, he doesn’t know what to say. Sam spreads his arms, “Go on, then.”

His son. His boy, his baby, his Sammy. A bead of sweat rolls down his temple. Pull the trigger, he tells himself, but he doesn’t. He’s not your Sammy anymore. He’s Azazel’s weapon. “It’s not too late, Sam”, John finally manages, his voice gravel rough but thankfully steady. He takes his finger away from the trigger. What the fuck? Yes it is, he’s too far gone. There’s nothing you can do for him now. “You can be cured, Sammy, I know how. I can help you”, he pleads.You can’t. Finish him. He clicks the safety on, lowers his gun. Idiot. “You don’t have to do this, don’t have to be this - this-” Crap. He hates it when he stutters.

“Yes I do. You know it, don’t lie to me - to yourself.” Sam finally drops his arms, and his demeanor changes. He tilts his head down a bit, somber. His eyes look bigger like this. “You’ve always known there was something dirty in me, since I was a little kid. You’ve known so much about this, about me, and - and you lied, and you kept lying. Hell, you even know his name! How long, huh? How long have you known his name and you never told me?” Sam barks out a laugh, sardonic and defeated at the same time. After a moment he continues. John thinks he sounds exhausted. “You know why I need to do this dad. I need to stop Lilith, I’m the only one -”

“No, you’re not”, John interrupts, loud and assertive. He’s glad his trepidation doesn’t come through. “We can figure this out, Sam, we have other options. We can figure out how to make more bullets. And even if we can’t use the Colt for whatever damn reason, there’s gotta be something somewhere on how to stop her. We’ll find another way. We always do” John begs. Sam’s expression doesn’t change.

There’s a pregnant pause between them. The air feels thick, heavy, suffocating in John’s lungs. He can do this, needs to do this, to bring his baby back to him, to protect and fix him. He needs to kill him. He needs to wash away his sickness, he needs to destroy Azazel’s weapon no matter what it takes, he needs -

Sam takes an apprehensive step towards his father. Yes baby, please, please come to me. The closer Sam gets, the more John’s relaxes. His chest fills with warmth and although Sam’s eyes are still hard and black, John can already feel his son in his arms. He lets go of himself then, his hands shaky and his furrowed brows relaxing, his breath quick, though he doesn’t let himself smile yet. He thinks he’s about to cry. When Sam reaches him, John's eyes are wet. Sam’s face is still unreadable to him however. It doesn’t look light and hopeful like it should be in a moment like this, but he chooses to ignore it. He hasn’t had his boy this close to him in months.

Then, Sam wraps one hand around John’s own on the grip, and the other around the barrel, and part of John feels delirious at the skin to skin contact he missed so much with his youngest, so desperate he was that this feels like a caress, that he doesn’t register Sam’s intention immediately. Slowly, firmly, Sam brings the gun back up, lines it with his heart again, and John’s blood goes cold. In Sam’s eyes, John sees a veil of sadness, anger, and something else he’s too emotionally illiterate to understand.

Despair paints John’s own face then, mouth agape, eyebrows raised and eyes big, scared. The tears he was holding back break, roll down his cheeks and disappear into his days-old scruffy beard. His chin quivers like a child's, and he shakes his head in disbelief. His thoughts devolve into no no no no no no no no no no Sammy no!

“Do it. ”

I can’t.

Sam’s face twists into a snarl, and he demands again, louder, harsher, “Do it!”.

I can’t. I never could.

Sam disengages the safety, brings John’s index finger into the trigger with ease. John’s hands have gone slack, and if he had the mental bandwidth to think of anything, he would be surprised that he’s still standing.

“This is what you do, isn’t it, John? Kill monsters? One shot, that’s all it takes, one squeeze of your finger and this will all be over. You’ll have done your job.”

A long moment passes, and Sam sighs. He seems disappointed somehow. He removes John’s hands from the gun and John lets them fall to his sides. He hasn’t blinked once since Sam held up the gun, but tears continue to trail down his cheeks. Sam takes John’s gun with him as he steps away, and John does nothing.

When he’s some meters away from his father, Sam turns and says, cutting like a blade, “Coward.”

I am.

Sam keeps walking away and John’s legs finally give. He doesn’t register the cold mud seeping into his jeans where he fell to his knees, or on the tips of his fingers, low because his shoulders are slumped and his body is curling into itself. His gaze is fixed on Sam’s back, and when his boy disappears among the foliage, he hiccups, and then starts to sob.

#supernatural #john winchester #dean winchester #sam winchester #fanfic #fic #mine #dean isn't in this part but he will be in the future

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dimity-lawn · 7 months

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#discworld #gnu terry pratchett #meme #discworld meme #created by yours truly #the watch #guards! guards!#sam vimes #vimes #errol #swamp dragon #swampie #sybil's swampies

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ilovedamsels1962 · 1 year

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Continuing my October reviews.

The Mad Monster (1942) is one of those pesky little poverty row horror films that had the potential to be so much better. The cast of George Zucco, Glenn Strange, and Anne Nagel are top notch for poverty row. OK, top billed Johnny Downs is pretty weak but still, there's a lot to work with here. We had great spooky swampy sets. We had Anne Nagel, as pretty as pretty gets. And we had George Zucco just as evil as evil can be. But other than a few scenes, it just doesn't work. Sam Newfield's direction is all over the place with awkward and embarrassing scenes (see the woods scene with the villagers all turning to face the camera) followed by fairly good action scenes like the climax. Still worth the effort if you can find it if nothing else to say that you've seen Glenn Strange play a werewolf.

#poverty row #1940's #classic horror #anne nagel

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coolchevistianofficialsite · 4 months

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So what would you love to see for Disney TVA's 40th next year? asking this in terms of celebration from Disney themselves

I would love to see more greenlights for new shows many from BCG crew members, in terms of reboots i think there should be official PRs for the TaleSpin and Recess reboots but specially would love to see series greenlight order for C.H. Greenblatt - Disney Channel series, i think he really deserves to find sucess at Disney.

Speaking of D23 Expo, would love to see Disney Legends Awards giving awards to Tad Stones, Bob Schooley, Mark McCorkle, Rob LaDuca, Bob Roth , Bill Motz, Paul Germain, Joe Ansolabehere, Dan Povenmire, Jeff Swampy Marsh, Jose Zelaya, Bobs Gannaway, Craig Gerber,Mark Seidenberg, Paul Rudish and Noah Z. Jones for their contributions on the studio over it's 40 years.

Would love to see something akin to Once Upon a Studio, my perfect idea would be Mickey and the entire characters of the studio getting ready to welcome to StuGo, Sam Witch, North Woods, Dog & Frog, Fantasy Sports, Neon Galaxy, InterCats, Rhona, Witchverse, Dusty Dupree, Cookies & Milk, North Woods, Tiny Trailblazers casts on a big party for the 100 series and next 100 shows.

Finally would love to see Very Important House getting revived this time for Disney Channel as next year is also the 10th anniversary of the pilot getting picked up for Disney XD

Finally something like Wish did with it's end credits with each show created at Disney TVA on the credits of The School Of Sensitive Souls.

#question #anonymous #disney television animation #disney tva

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mastermata · 7 months

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Palmgor

These big reptilians can be found in swampy waters, searching for anything that they can eat in one gulp; Their common prey is bugs and certain fish. They can also jump 14bfeet into the air, which Sam found out the hard way.

-IOXianArmy

Tag List:

@sleepysigil

@salamifuposey

@spookyqueenart

@itisdoibs

@heystayawesome

@yuumelish

@frootsycollins

@kayas-kosmos

#oc #art #writing #world building #fiction #fantasy #sketch #storytelling #ya books #books #adventure #creature #alien life #monster lore #author #lore #writers on tumblr

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colorfulcockroach · 8 months

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罗马尼亚夏日神像

Sebastion的妹妹要结婚了，在罗马尼亚。

妹妹本来不想大费周章，但是母亲建议来次旅行婚礼。自己年轻的时候从康斯坦察搬到维也纳又搬到美国纽约州，太繁琐太仓促的路途上都没有好好看看风景，而且妹妹一直说想去看看维也纳墨蓝色的多瑙河。

上路的时候带上了seb。

现在是夏天。晚上sebastion在长滩拍完最后一场戏——骑摩托甩掉背后追自己饰演角色的敌人，sebastion摸了一把自己的脸，脸上有很多水珠，洛杉矶临海夜晚的空气湿湿的。

“seb，有人找。”助理在旁边招手，指了指拍摄公路旁边亮着霓虹牌子的休息站餐厅。sebastion吸了吸鼻子，下了摩托。推开门听到铃铛发出响声，可能因为潮湿的空气没有那么清脆。现在已经很晚了，没有客人，sebastion看到自己的妹妹一个人坐在角落里，桌子上印着“Old Chub”烫金泡泡字的空易拉罐已经堆了很多。

“sebby，你爱喝的。”妹妹扔了一瓶在sebastion怀里，是Oskar Blues Brewery出的新款。sebastion叩开易拉罐环喝了一口脚勾着凳子坐下。妹妹今天穿的白色碎花裙子，很好看。

休息站餐厅窗户很大，风会吹进来。看不清的灌木在窗边沙沙的响，但是sebastion知道灌木那一边就是Sunny Jim's Sea ，那里的山洞到傍晚会变成紫色，还可以看见成群的海鸟。

“sebby，别发呆了。我知道你很难。”

妹妹放下易拉罐狠狠磕到了桌子，sebastion觉得或许一会儿自己该给这张木质桌板道个歉。他歪着头盯着那个易拉罐，水雾在上面领结汇聚然后沿着瓶子滑下来，干涩而缓滞。

“sebby，我知道你什么打算。但是，嘿，看在妈妈的份上，你这个戏拍完了就给我回家来，去罗马尼亚小时候的房子里休息一段时间，然后参加我的婚礼，好吗？”

sebastion还是盯着那些水珠，它里面装着一座蓬莱仙岛。

“你不准又消失掉，你不能一直这个状态，”妹妹顿了一下，“不是演戏就是发呆。你本来的自己哪去了？”

本来的自己哪去了？陷入角色的困境或者抽出身穿着亮粉色出席名流的宴会，很多次sebastion自己要求戴上墨镜，这样就可以把四处缠绕的笑脸，像微小宇宙爆裂发出白昼亮斑的记者摄影灯，时而沉闷时而刺眼的目光，所有的东西都模糊掉，然后快速完成工作逃离现场。之后的一段时间，sebastion发现自己可以不用墨镜也可以逐渐把眼前的一切看成流动的油画，摸不到的这些事物一点点变成五彩斑斓的油墨滴飘在空中。

“Chris最近找了女朋友。”妹妹抬头盯着seb的眼睛。

“Chiyako。I know。”说话了，终于。sebastion感觉嗓子也糊上了水汽，还想说点什么的时候，字母音节就已经融化在水雾里不见了。seb知道自己的声音这样听起来软绵绵的。seb讨厌自己的声音。

“跟我回去，听到没有。”有的时候seb感觉自己一直都是一场盛夏的暴雨，带着某种隔天就要腐朽的死亡气息，所以才会有如此决绝的盛大，然后像蝉一样突然闭嘴，终结在夏天。

“OK。fine，fine。”sebastion敢打赌自己如果不答应的话，妹妹今晚估计就不走了。

但，事实上今晚立即被领走的是seb自己。妹妹直接在片场拽了助理，助理点头说拍完了可以放sebastion回家。seb真的有些恍惚，所有人都看得出来。

之后妹妹好像松了口气，出去的时候骄傲的拍了拍一辆停在星球形状白赤灯下的红色小SL。那个灯下面有很多扑簌的小虫。“爸爸送的结婚礼物。”sebastion吸气笑了笑，钻进了车里。

看不见一点光的山路只有妹妹的奔驰发亮的铺着前路，旁边的海树有点像高大的浮萍，空气里有海腥气息和海鸟喝雨水的味道，皮椅咯吱咯吱的seb不喜欢听，所以打开了车载音响。

For the love. I'd fallen on

In the swampy August dawn

What a mischief you would bring young, darling

When the onus is not all your own

When vou're up for it before you've grown

Wow-wow

或许seb听过这首歌。它唱着——

我落入潮湿的八月，我受过太多痛苦。

seb在黑暗里看到海市蜃楼。

几个月前拍「The Falcon and the Winter Soldier」的时候sebastion在布拉格呆了很长一段时间，他们都住在橘色小砖砌成的prague街区44号——剧组专门为zoom男爵这个皇族角色租借的一套别墅。Chris没有戏却大老远飞过来了。

他胡子又长了。装模作样地站在门口，叉着腰开玩笑说让退役的美国队长来看看他的老朋友。在场的MCU编剧导演都笑了，他到底来看谁的大家一清二楚。

chirs径直踏了进来，seb坐在那个布满灰尘但仍然五颜六色的希腊硬沙发上。chirs好像谁都没空理，像一个徒步旅行很久的流浪者，不坐上那个沙发休息的话下一秒就要累死。seb感到身边的沙发位置轻轻的震了一下，然后chirs的手搭了上来。

seb想站起来走人，或者像刚刚演戏那样——用自己套着瓦坎达机械臂的左胳膊，给那个人来一下。当然后来在剧里他确实情绪激动的摔了zoom的白瓷茶杯，还差点掐上他的脖子。

现在没有在拍摄，但是seb要求自己一直沉浸在角色里。The endgame里chirs跳了那个该死的舞之后就不再饰演美国队长了，按剧里的说法，well，他到月球上享福去了，但是特么的自己仍然要按照MCU的要求像James Buchanan Barnes一样生活。seb现在就是恢复记忆之后被某个人残忍留在现代的可怜小鹿仔。

Chirs不会不知道他这张脸现在出现在尚未出戏的seb面前意味着什么。

拍完endgame之后seb想这是最后一次做了，和chirs，或者正确的说是steve。

seb还留着长发穿着bucky的褐色夹克，Chris来敲他休息室的门。seb手里拿着卷成筒的台词薄被chirs抵在墙上亲吻。外面就是电影里那个美国队长去还宝石并永远消失直到变老才回来的树林。seb突然很委屈，他任由chirs的手插进自己的头发里，然后一点点尝着chirs嘴唇的味道，像半罐过期的桃子酱，像满束衰败的野雏菊。

chirs进入的时候叫他seb。可是sebastion觉得他是steve，他现在一点也不像chirs，steve是理性的箴言、神圣的条约、至高无上的律法。seb有点痛，但是更多的是难过。在无数次的顶弄里，seb听到脑海里有人叫他bucky。

委屈到了顶点就像吞了玻璃碎片，满口的鲜血却吐不出来。

seb的手指尖冒了细密的汗珠，但仍然死死抓住台词本。chirs松开搂着seb腰的手去拨开衣服拉链，然后把sebastion套着机械戏服的胳膊猛的抬高，从seb的颈窝亲到胳膊内侧的软肉。seb手有一点软，被chirs抽掉了台词本，扔在地上。

“求你了，求求你……”seb在chirs咬自己耳朵的时候抱住他，并且有点想哭，但到底在求什么自己也不知道，只是在chirs告诉自己他不走的时候，seb整个人溺在暗色里喷薄而出。

现在他来干嘛。又想装防止巴恩斯落入深渊的好人吗？

sebastion转头看着蓝色眼睛笑的特别像金毛的chirs，语气还保留在刚刚拍戏跟Sam讲话时的不耐烦。“你来这里干什么，拍狗粮广告吗？”

Anthony在一边儿笑。“他想你了，过来看看你不行吗？”anthony在一边也穿着戏服，chirs感激的看了他一眼，算是打了招呼。

“OK，come on，这里没有他的戏请他出去好吗？”seb干脆直接站起来转到导演面前，另一手拽着穿着米色衬衫的chirs，把他送出了prague44号。外面有点飘着小雨，chirs还是一脸笑的任由seb把他推到门外的台阶上，黑色带一点金的短头发立刻沾上了细小的雨珠。

Chirs翘着嘴角，瞳孔里装着蓝色星星。

小的时候seb经常听莎士比亚的歌剧「罗密欧与朱丽叶」，剧中经常唱‘把我的罗密欧给我，当他死的时候，把他带走，把他刻成一个个星星，他会使天堂的面貌变得那么美丽，全世界都会爱上黑夜，而不会崇拜太阳。’seb疑惑为什么会因为星星爱上黑夜。

chirs还在笑，他知道这个时候自己的脸就是seb委屈的解药。sebastion好像明白了或许朱丽叶爱得从来就不是那个男孩西装革履发胶的香味飘到鼻子里，而是回家路上下雨他把扣子解开额发湿了一点在等车的那一刻。

戏演到三分之二了，中午阳光很好的时候导演要求拍sam与bucky抢夺新美队盾牌的打戏，bucky被击中要害吐了口血，跪在了那个粘着血浆的红蓝盾牌前。seb有点恍惚，他想起曾经很多次拍Captain America系列的时候自己跪在chirs裤裆前也是这个姿势，湿漉漉地张着嘴。

seb现在又开始感到很委屈，他有点分不清是bucky barnes在委屈还是真正的sebastion stan在委屈。

黑漆漆的拍摄镜头怼在seb脸上，他爬了起来，手里抓着盾站在从破旧大楼窗户射进来的阳光里。导演很满意的得到了他想要的镜头效果，随后bucky把盾牌扔给了sam，很重的盾牌从Bucky的金属臂上滑落，发出索索的摩擦声。

“我再给你一次机会，Sam。这是steve留给你的。”seb喘着气说了bucky的台词。

可他什么都没有留给我。

傍晚sebastion回自己房间，在上楼的时候就忍不住哭了，或许演一个一百多岁不太理解现代的二战老兵对自己情绪影响太大了。结果打开门就撞见chirs端端正正坐在自己的床上。seb啧了一声，眼睛还红红的，他赌气不去看chirs，伸手把钥匙摔在了跟那个希腊沙发款式一样的床头柜上，这里的家具都像五颜六色滚了一身灰的虫子。

肯定是Anthony这个坏人把自己房间的备用钥匙给了chirs这个坏人。妈的，两个坏人。

与此同时在酒吧放松的anthony还搂着一个摄影大哥摇头晃脑的说：“well，你们都知道的，最近seb的情绪特别特别不好，我也是尽点兄弟情义嘛，希望他们俩今晚能好好休息……”

“seb。你很委屈。”chirs没有再像早上一样温柔的笑了，他站起来冲seb伸出双臂，蓝色眼睛里依然有亮的星星。seb闻到很香的味道。

“我买了你喜欢吃的派，桃子果酱的。”

seb没有把自己放进chirs怀里，只是站在床前，眼泪还没有擦干净就直接问派在哪里，意识到自己声音还带哭腔后seb尴尬的清了清嗓子，气鼓鼓地看着他，“我饿了。”

Anthony在酒吧里喝酒跳舞，另一边的seb又一次被chirs抵在墙上，chirs敲开seb的嘴唇，手也向seb衣服里滑去。“我看见剧本了seb，他们让你和anthony滚在一起。告诉我你不想，你很难受对不对？今天中午的打戏你很痛对不对？我还看见你摸那个盾牌了，你在想念steve，或者说你在想念我对不对？我知道你脸上那个表情是什么意思宝贝，我很了解你，sebby。”

chirs的手指狠狠探了进去，seb吃痛咬了chirs的肩膀，努力不让自己再哭出来。

“我也很想你。”chirs在亲他。“所以我来了。”

“我以为……亚特兰大是最后一次…”拍摄终局之战的最后部分他们在亚特兰大，他们俩在没上锁的休息室做爱，seb一直以为那是最后一次，bucky再也见不到steve就像自己再也见不到chirs一样。理论上来说seb是一个很悲观很被动的人，他在那之后是绝对不会去主动找chirs的，更不要说做其他的了。

chirs褪下seb牛仔裤子，钳住他的双腿把seb整个人卷在怀里，seb的腿缠上chirs的腰被chirs挺身进入。seb贴着墙被硌着很不舒服，于是两个人又换到那张硕大的coda四角床上。

chirs顶到很深的位置时掐了seb的脖子，seb开始出现幻觉，有烟花在他脑海里炸开，在chirs贴近的时候他亲了亲chirs的脸叫了声steve。

接着seb胯下的抽插就停止了，chirs退了出来。

seb有一点清醒，感知无限放大，他突然发现面前的chirs既没有穿蓝白相间的作战戏服，胸前也没有那颗银色凸起的星星。

“sebastion。”chirs叫了自己的全名。“你这样不行。”下体没有充盈的感觉了，seb讨好的凑上去，泥泞的穴口开合着，他知道刚刚chirs因为这个生气了。

“你好好看着我，seb。”chirs现在就在这里，捧着sebastion的脸，但就是不再进入了，这让seb想射又射不出来。

seb终于崩溃了。

“你真的太他妈贱了…chirs也是，steve也是，你们全他妈是贱货…你之前走的那么干脆，你现在回来又是什么意思？”

“chirs，你他妈的，你知不知道我想你，你回来好不好，我需要你…你不能让steve把我一个人丢在这里…”

chirs现在简直就是乘人之危，他用手去擦seb的眼泪，seb还在哭，跟上次亚特兰大的情况一模一样，他入戏的时候做爱会一直喊steve的名字，而chirs则每次都会佯装生气的在seb马上高潮的时候抽离，设法把他恢复成sebastion自己，而不是bucky或者其他什么抑郁的角色。

chirs又重新进入，seb发出一声闷哼，“steve怎么样没有人知道，但chirs永远不会离开sebastion，永远不会。”

每次都是这样。chirs想起在endgame结束不久seb就被叫去拍winter solider电视剧了，原因是导演想让seb一直处于创伤状态，软软呼呼的小王子被残忍的割裂撕扯成杀人武器，尘世一遭每个人都要烟熏火燎的落俗，但是chirs觉得seb也好，bucky也好，他们都像明亮透底的镜子，即使碎的四分五裂，也能从片片碎屑里倒映出自己。

chirs看到镜子碎屑里蜷缩着曾经那个布鲁克林的中世士兵和那个罗马尼亚笑起来很甜的小熊。他拼凑碎毅的镜子，他拯救碎毅的镜子，他爱碎毅的镜子。

MCU得到了他们想要的被全世界无缘无故踩踏的冬日战士，sebastion也理应得到罗密欧星星的眼睛和无穷无尽充盈的爱。

妹妹的婚礼筹办的差不多了，seb坐飞机独自先到了罗马尼亚。妹妹执意要开着她的那辆sl在维也纳转一圈，为此还专门买了相配墨蓝色的裤裙和墨西哥帽。

罗马尼亚老房子在树林里，4公里外还有一处豁然开朗的草坪，中央立了一座被废止的农牧神像，当地人叫它西蒙·圣列奥多，长得很像潘神花园里的法翁。

seb单肩挎着背包，伸手摘掉墨镜打量着神像石雕，孩童时觉得它高大无比形色怪异，再次见到它时seb跟它一样高，伫立良久seb无端想起白头大干的维也纳山神举行婚礼时下起过白色花瓣雨，是深爱主的花草清风在告别，不过现在罗马尼亚没有神，seb也没有。

安静的过了一天，seb卷着袖子在修缮房子的木板楼梯，来到时候带了很多Old Chub罐装啤酒，seb晚上没吃东西，但啤酒罐堆了一地，不过楼梯下面草丛很高，看不到歪七扭八的易拉罐，只能听到戚戚的虫鸣。

seb有点想笑，他想到昨天自己还在纽约长滩拍海边公路追逐戏，今天就到了罗马尼亚丛林，一个人修房子修到半夜。seb一只脚踏上楼梯使劲踩了踩，楼梯没怎么晃动倒是自己的Loake麂皮靴子发出咯吱的声音。看来是修好了，seb嘴角扬了扬。

他回屋的时候甚至有点开始喜欢这个地方了，小时候妈妈每一天都在告诉他要离开，现在四周没有尖叫没有摔打碗筷的声音，没有铅块颜色的IMAX高清镜头和无人机，这里从窗外看不到银河流淌的霓虹车灯，而且seb知道，4公里外的石雕任然伫立在那里，任何永远不会离开的东西都让seb感到安心。

seb用手机放了那首歌，他关了灯躺在床上。

From the faun forever gone

In the towers of your honeycomb

I'd a tore your hair out just to climbback.darling

When vou're filling out vour only form

Can vou tell that it's just ceremon'

Now vou've added up to what vou're from

Wow-wow

它唱着——

在农牧神像前，你还是你吗。在绿色高塔里，你还爱我吗。

在夏天这个时候seb会很难睡着，他想起chirs。

chirs推了所有的商务在第二天早上抵达罗马尼亚。

一路上跟助理和Chiyako打去了电话说自己想去东欧放个假，刚好「Ghosted」的宣传也差不多结束了，就直接上了飞机。助理一听到是东欧就那副自己懂了的样子，阴阳怪气的跟chirs说好好宠你的小男朋友，别又让他哭鼻子。至于chiyako那边无所谓的公关女友，就没有什么需要过多解释的了。

chirs和seb的妹妹一直有来往，只不过这个可怜的小男朋友还被蒙在鼓里。

早上seb起的很晚，他刚打开房门想来个晨跑就看见chirs蹲坐在自己昨天晚上刚修好的楼梯上。

“我操！？Chirs Evans？你他妈…你他妈犯什么贱？”这下seb跑不了了。

“heybaby，easy。”chirs拍了拍坐麻的腿，心说你再不起来我就私闯民宅然后给你来个早安吻了。他一脸无事发生自顾自进了屋，把自己的行李包扔在了seb卧室的地板上。“早餐吃什么？我来看看冰箱…”

seb一脸见了鬼的表情还呆站在屋外草地上，chirs已经到厨房熟练的煎鸡蛋了。场面有点好笑，chirs用有发达肱二头的肌胳膊小心翼翼敲着鸡蛋壳，seb反应过来后从屋外一路吼叫到chirs面前。

“你干嘛啊chirs，你把话说清楚。你他妈，你是不是跟我妹妹串通好了，还是我妹妹找的你？不是，关键是我现在好得很，我他妈一个人呆在这里好得很啊！你给我滚出去！”

“你妹妹说你昨天在长滩拍戏的时候还想钻到山洞里去。”黄油烧化了在滋滋的响，chirs一边说，一边摆弄平底锅。

seb气笑了，“那是Sunny Jim's Sea的海崖洞穴景点！我认识那边酒吧的老板！你们能不能搞清楚状况再来关心我，chirs，你能不能在乎下别人啊你这样随便放下工作跑来…”

“别人我不在乎。”chirs大义凛然的语气又出现了，就好像在说“为了公民自由”一样，这是演美国队长的后遗症。

十分钟后seb撅着嘴在餐桌上吃煎鸡蛋，chirs问他牛奶要不要煮热了喝。

抬头看到外面阳光正好，两个人穿好衣服徒步走了很久，到了神像前他们俩躺在草坪里chirs说seb你还记得吗，我们在德克萨斯州第一次相知相识第一次看山上的日出。

其实十多年以来两人在一起就像是刀刃深划般冷冽的伤痛，被戏中角色混乱的关系逼迫恢复，又被好莱坞似有似无的规则裹挟飞奔。

太阳照射seb的绿色眼睛。chirs在近处，法翁石雕的脸色冷峻发沉，他们都在噩梦里望到seb几乎维持不住的身形，眼底有什么东西饱满欲滴，极像悲哀和怜惜。seb身体在发烫，作一阵烟落进衣角的褶皱，天色被眺望，湛蓝又清明，清明得让人想爱上。

梦里chirs很神经质地突然出现，迤迤然途径这个男孩的枯萎，按动了seb某个触发键，闸门开调，洪水倾污而出，淹没河口洲毫无防备的人，在现实里破碎一千次，在幻想里就会破碎一万次。

时间是阶梯，托举上下沉浮的人短暂停留，理不清的缘分往后也就没有再多，而seb害怕chirs只是偶然施救，然后永远离开。

seb花十分钟回神，梦里的救世主近在眼前，等他醒透。他要起身，享受着亲吻来势汹汹时那些纷纷情欲，最后半点心也被掏光，好像两个人都停止了流浪。chirs 说你是个坏男孩。在这样的描述中seb睫毛乱刮，从心里升起的飓风被缝进chirs星星的眼里，落地成细密的针脚。

他们俩躺在石像前亲吻，seb的余光看到农牧神像怪异的鹿角沾到了天上的云，他现在一点脾气也没有了。chirs开始脱掉自己的衣服。

seb想去的山洞外面是岩褐色里面是紫色的，这里天空是亮蓝色草地是翠色的，相比之下倒也没有那么不堪，seb骑上chirs丰盈的肉体，看着紫红色的性器在自己的下体里没入又抽出。现在seb有神了，他想起很早之前自己看过的佛罗伦萨教堂壁画「圣母与圣徒同坐」，红色披风的圣母在哺乳，神在慢慢出现。

seb又被chirs翻过压在身下，所有农牧神的一切都被亵渎了，他们纠缠着做爱，白花就在他们的唇边盛开。

神不爱世人。

神爱世人。

seb在chirs怀里控制不住的上下晃动，这一切让他想要立即死去或者永远活着。seb一辈子去不到一个万神殿，却无师自通地找到伊甸园，他要闭眼聆听，心底却有声音说苹果从树上落下来了，去看看吧。走近看又不仅是苹果，树下还有虚幻的瓦坎达山坡，化成一滩水的布鲁克林雪糕，开幕式烟火和圣诞节的平安钟，还有一张床，有人躺在上面，翻过身大义凛然的问seb要不要去佛罗伦萨教堂一起祷告，这句话听起来就像我们要永远在一起。

濒临释放的时候seb看到从chirs胸口掉出来的sani项链，这是在Captain America 3宣传的时候seb送给他的，送的时候他跟chirs说这个项链上嵌了蓝色星星石头，chirs几乎整个宣传期都带着它。

后来的两人拍不同的戏chirs会偶尔寄来明信片，在一张法国坎塔布连海的明信片背面chirs说“燃烧的星星会落在海底开成珊瑚，珊瑚会亲吻海浪，我会亲吻你。 ”

下午转凉，温存之余chirs咬着seb的耳朵：“我们回去吧，回去洗个澡我给你做烤羊肉。”他知道seb不吃牛肉。

晚上两个人躺在床上，seb掰着指头算自己以后要准备哪些东西，自己妈妈什么时候过来，妹妹的婚礼还有不到10天了。chirs嘿嘿笑着说有他在怕什么，明��开始seb长官命令的全都搞定。

seb说你得了吧，两个男人一天到晚只知道做爱。

chirs不服气，“比如现在就没有啊，你待在你的位置，我待在我的位置。”seb指了指chirs放在自己腰上的手，“那你这是在干嘛我请问呢。”

两个人就都笑，随后还谈论了很多。chirs问seb最近还有没有再做噩梦，像seb刚演winter solider的时候就天天睡不好；然后seb又问chirs和chiyako的生活怎么样，两人在ins里看起来很甜蜜。chirs阴阳怪气的学seb叫chiyako的名字，说公关女友就是活在ins里的好吧，seb这是在吃飞醋。seb打了他一巴掌，回怼说自己找公关女友的那段时间也不知道是谁在破防，搞得经常大半夜喝多了打电话让seb从斯洛伐克飞回纽约，就为了从酒吧把chirs接回家。

四周没有一点亮光，沉默了片刻seb问你准备呆多久呢chirs？

“你想让我呆多久呢？”chirs反问。

身侧久久没有应答，seb阖着眼，眉却皱得相当紧，chirs抚不平，手心在男人眼皮上轻轻拂过，停在两颊。

seb就在此时产生错觉，就好像chirs只是无忧无虑地报出世界上的很多地方，seb就有和他私奔的念头。爱情这种亘古的魔幻把戏将人变成坏家伙，告别真理，重拾本性，让人想隐瞒，想改变，想真的捞到星星。

chirs翻身爬起来放歌，恰巧的是他们俩的品味好像差不多。seb也终于搞清楚这首歌的名字叫「Towers」，好听的有点像神明低声呓语，他在歌里看到一幅画。

Build our tether rain-out from vour fragment

Break the sailor's table on your sacrum

Fuck the fiercest fables

I'm with Hagen

seb听到chirs在自己身边躺下，它唱着——

我回到13世纪的教堂，我看到上帝的诞生，我看到撒旦的死亡。

我需要你，需要你永远在这里，你快降临。

或许有点像西语字幕的电影，这里的罗马尼亚拥有炽热与神秘，过深的美丽和寂真，seb和chirs逃离生长在任何地方的拍摄镜头，过着「Eté 85」电影里殉难之前的灿烂生活。

他们俩修好了继父刚跟seb母亲在一起时送的JAWA摩托。chirs带着seb骑行，穿过溪流之上的廊桥，他停车和seb一起趴在桥沿上眺望，溪流旁边的矮树长得很好，极像瓦格顿笔下的山脉漆画。

荷兰黄金时代的诗人卡乐伯特说：“当你沉浸在这些独特的景色与活泼的爱恋中，你就不会再介意时常阴雨的交色天空了。”chirs俯身过来亲他，seb想如果这是爱情电影，那么他们会在伊拉斯谟斯大桥重逢，牵手赏风车，在木登城堡的人潮里求爱，seb会以被永生记住的口吻再次告知chirs他的名宇，然后获得神明的恩准。

凌晨chirs把seb叫了起来，把他拽到屋顶上指着天空。seb视野里满是辉煌的黎明，太阳从群山的一侧跃出，耀目的金光撞进两人的视网膜。

然后chirs猝不及防的对seb说了那句，像是终于在日积月累里发现了誓言是神明祝福的延续，告白可以规避情感井喷后的阵痛。

“我爱你。”

远方，群山连绵。

朝阳喷薄而出。

在seb无数次的角色转换中，有多么期待这句话？

1930年James无数次安慰还没有注射血清的Rogers小豆芽，他们俩在闪烁的街灯下拥抱。巴恩斯拍拍那个揪不起来一点肉的肩膀然后邀请他来家里做客，今天妈妈又做了rogers喜欢吃的热狗。

1943年变成队长的steve在纳粹九头蛇屠杀神明的实验室找到bucky，bucky问他会不会疼，会不会一直疼。他们回到酒吧steve开始频频找那个美女特工，可是bucky只是在想，如果是那个瘦小的steve呢？自己会爱，其他人还会爱吗。

1944年巴恩斯中士在历史上落幕，圣彼得在这一天被尼禄皇帝倒吊着钉死，劫难也从此开始。神明死的时候也如此落魄，却还在倒钉上十字架的过程中为他的耶稣三次祈祷，那么steve呢？有没有为barnes祈祷？哪怕一次？

1945年的steve还会想念吗？在看到北方列车驶进漫天大雪的时候。

2014年冬日战士被带回钉死过很多个圣彼得的房间，让一种矩促如击打三角铁的电击刺痛伤及内里，眼泪在皮尔斯和朗姆洛的面前大颗滚落，掉到地上，变成带血萎缩的毒苹果。

2016年的冬日战士对不起所有人。

2018年Bucky用剩下的右臂清理瓦坎达刚生出来带着胎盘的小羊，用剩下的右臂抱住来片刻休息的罪犯captain rogers，用剩下的右臂赎罪。只是从来没有人向bucky赎罪。他坐在瓦坎达山坡上，bucky在很小的时候就看波提切利的画，所以孩子们会很大方地剪下文艺复兴部分的作品图片送给他。bucky让孩子们帮忙扎头发，一个小女孩跑过来说白狼哥哥，队长坐黑色大鸟又来看你了。

21世纪是故事的终点，战争发生的太快，好像从来都没有人说过with you till the end of the line这种话，也好像Steve rogers这个人从来没有在这个世纪里存活。世界的内核是悲剧，无神论者的供奉始终是凡间世人。

seb依靠在厨房的木门沿上看着里面做中午饭的chirs，“你看看你在电影里，欠了我多少句我爱你？”

seb其实特别介意endgame的结局，以至于到后来拍电视剧的时候跟MUC编剧开玩笑说请Doctor Strange过来吧，求他开个多重宇宙把另一个时空的steve薅过来。导演一边调试拍摄的滑轨车一边笑眯眯的打官腔：“Maybe，we will see。”

chirs今天煮意大利面，他把番茄酱汁倒进锅里，转身示意seb帮自己解开围裙带子，“sebby，你现在想让我说多少遍我爱你都行，steve欠bucky的让chirs全补给你。”

你有跌倒过吗？鞋带系成漂亮的结，好像只是为了跌倒做准备。chirs遇见过很多人。聪明、寡言、漂亮、虚伪、聒噪，或者顽劣、恶趣味——学会视而不见像演员的天资。chirs年轻时对他们产生过短暂的愔恨，最后趋于平和，是不再寄希望于计较的原谅。世界不断重构，时间缓缓流动。

chirs在德克萨斯州第一次见到seb，他穿着浅蓝色的西装，像玛丽·布拉德·梅伦在19世纪哈德逊河上创作的画布「格洛斯特港的景色」，远方的左边是十磅岛的灯塔，无定形的岩石，seb是海浪，他轻轻推了一下chirs驾驶搁浅的船。

助理会在chirs打来电话的时候调笑，说他“对啊你陷进去了”，这是多么狡诈的话，现在他被seb的情网笼罩收紧，用红线缠住双脚自愿跪在高大的神父面前。

十年，sebastion演了十年的冬日战士，chirs在罗马尼亚老屋对seb说了十遍我爱你。

三天之后seb的母亲和继父来了，他们夸chirs房屋修缮的不错，连JAWA老古董都可以骑到很远。继父高兴的拍着他那辆80年代的捷克摩托，大声叫seb和chirs喜欢的话就送给你们俩了。母亲在一边假装乍舌说这不是当年你送给我的定情信物吗，怎么还能再传给你儿子。然后翻了个白眼走到chirs面前，“等什么时候结婚了，妈送你们一辆新的。”

老一代的人总是拿现在男人们不敢轻易说出的词语开玩笑，电影快结束的时候总是震撼人心的万籁俱寂，天上的神说，有些东西永远不会发生。

妹妹回来的前一天晚上他们又一次做爱。老屋子狭窄逼仄的二楼，父母在熟睡，他们在落锁的杂物间脱好外衣，seb喝了一杯母亲酿的酒，里面有切成小丁的莓肉。杂物间里放着家人参加斋期结束后的嘉年华号角。号角吹响，seb睁开眼看到chirs，闭上眼看到圣洁的基督。

chirs低头舔咬seb的乳尖。seb喜欢吻人嘴角，有时候被这羽毛轻排似的痒意侍弄舒服了chirs会忘记回吻。地中海气候的国家降雨强劲，地面常常潮湿，可夏雨再猛烈也无法比拟穴口大雨降临般的滂沱。seb向上攀辕，chirs在几秒内缴械投降后又塞进seb嘴里。动作半天seb吞咽不及时脸颊沾上精液，chirs被激的浑身一震，心疼的蹲下给seb擦拭，seb从昏沉状态中醒来，瞳孔聚焦半天才对淮，唇瓣开合说不出一个字。

他们是两条蛇，性爱则是鲜红的信子，他们在撒旦休憩的时候啃咬苹果。seb回家了，而chirs在太阳将落末落的时候找到这个家。

妹妹最后一站的旅行婚礼在下午三点半举行，他们在农牧神像草坪上铺了红毯撒上花瓣，不辞辛苦的用租借卡车运送蛋糕和香槟，妹妹换上洁白的婚纱和seb跳舞，chirs在一旁，带着sani蓝色星星项链。

很多朋友打来电话祝贺，包括anthony，他还缺德的明知故问chirs在哪。搞得seb突然想起来还没找妹妹算账，她和chirs到底串通了多久以至于chirs能直接来罗马尼亚，而seb却一点都没有察觉。

seb穿浅蓝色的西装，跑到妹妹面前说你们俩长本事了，肯定背后还互相讲了我很多坏话吧？妹妹捂着嘴坏笑，把seb往chirs方向一边推，一边说sebby我今天结婚，你就饶了我吧。

来宾们坐在正对着草坪的观礼座上，seb和chirs坐在第一排，看着妹妹和她的妻子从两个方向朝花亭中间走来。她们俩站在神像前互相喊对方的名字，风扬起两个新娘子的头纱，就像山神打开魔法书念悬浮咒，所有人都会在Wingardium leviosa号令声中幸福的飞起，然后拿香槟酒杯在天上喝一口彩虹。

柏拉图的会饮篇说起初人是Androgynous,球形，四条胳膊四条腿，两张一模一样的脸，宙斯就把人全都劈成两半，既削弱了人的能力也能增加信仰侍奉神的人数。恋人就好像曾被神劈开似的那么需要彼此，灵魂伴侣是阿尼玛和阿尼姆斯投射后的转译，我爱你，我在你身上看见自己。

Afterparty开始前妹妹的妻子要抛自己手里的鲜花，妹妹拿着话筒说要不就别抛了，直接给sebastion，我看他和他旁边的人挺想要的。大家哄堂大笑，都转头看向seb和chirs，chirs笑着扶额，seb则冲台上的妹妹比了个中指。

妹妹的妻子很喜欢抽中国烟，宴会上seb拿起蓝色的盒子说这是红金龙enne，然后又指着enne英文字符上面的中文教chirs读。

“它叫爱你。是吗。”chirs问。

对，意思是爱你。

打开看到里面修长典雅的烟体，seb说这东西在中国很常见，还没反应过来就听chirs说那我也给你看个常见的东西。chirs摊开手，手心里有一枚素戒。他抬头看一眼农牧神像，然后把戒指堂而皇之的给seb带上，又若无其事的转向enne烟盒，大义凛然的语气，学seb念了一遍中文——爱你。

seb觉得自己是一场暴雨。chirs外壳坚硬，心却软到要用一生去消化这种恢宏，可行至此处，seb终于不用再浪费心愿去祈祷终焉后的睛天。雨幕中穿行，天空降下爱意，浸濡全身。多好的爱，多好的雨。

确实在下雨，夜晚所有人都回家了留seb和chirs在草坪上收捡。两个人收到一半的时候开始有点点雨珠最后变成暴雨。

seb很开心，他冲chirs叫到把留下的那个音响打开，连上蓝牙大声放歌。

还是那首歌，雨滴在神像的头壳上炸裂开，结成星星，结成海浪。酒，鲜花，精致的素戒都淋着大雨，seb和chirs抱在一起。

For the love,comes the burning young

From the liver, sweating through your tonque

Well.you're standing on my sternum

Don't you climb down darling

Oh the sermons are the first to rest

Smoke on Sundays when you're drunk and dressed

Out the hollows where the swallow nests

Wow-wow

它唱着——

你现在问我，这是我的想法，这是我的感情。

我们是高塔里的神明。

我们汇聚在一起卧轨，在罗马尼亚的夏天。

#bucky barnes #sebastian stan #stucky #winter solider #mcu #chirs evans #evanstan

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