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fanfic-archive · 3 years

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Meeting the Baron (3/7)

Chapter 3. Riga, Latvia

Summary: Next stop? Riga and Zemo’s Latvian flat. Zemo proves that breaking him out of prison wasn’t an all-bad idea, providing you with invaluable information and leads, but it’s not that surprising that the new Captain America had finally caught up with your ragtag group.

Part 1, Part 2

Word Count: 4695

The search for Karli took the four of you to Riga, Latvia. And, thankfully, Zemo had somewhere there for you all to stay. He really was proving himself useful, if nothing else he had funded everything for the three of you. Clothes, travel, lodging, it certainly made things easier.

Now, Zemo was guiding the there of you through the streets of Riga and towards his place where you would all be staying.

“I heard what became of Sokovia. Cannibalised by its neighbours before the land was even cleared of rubble, erased from the map” Zemo spoke up, making you a little curious. Of course, Sam and Bucky had explained what had happened to Sokovia but this was the first time that he was speaking of it. “I don’t suppose any of you bothered visiting the memorial?” he asked, the question pointed more towards Sam. “Of course not. Why would you?” he continued when Sam didn’t respond, sounding calm but you sensed the underlying annoyance. “We are here” he announced as you arrived outside his property.

“I’m gonna go on a walk” Bucky stopped, making you all turn back to him.

“You good?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, I’ll see you guys in a bit” Bucky just nodded before walking off in the opposite direction.

“I worry about him sometimes” you sighed to yourself.

“Yeah, me too” Sam patted your shoulder before the two of you followed Zemo inside.

Now, this was much closer to what you expected from the Baron when it came to housing. This safehouse, if you could call it that, was much nicer and more spacious than where you had stayed in Madripoor. The room was warmly lit, the sun coming through stain glass windows. The décor was much more of what you expected as well, the style and furniture a mix between traditional and modern. In summary, you liked the space, and if this was a safehouse of his, it was still much nicer than your apartment back home.

The three of you settled in, Sam sitting down to do some research, Zemo disappearing into the bathroom, and you making yourself a drink before falling down onto the couch. Here you were, on the run, tracking down a rebel group, but living in much better conditions.

Taking a sip from your glass, your attention turned to the opening bathroom doors, where Zemo stepped out. You couldn’t help but stare despite your better judgement, he was a sight to take in like this. Blue bathrobe, tied securely but revealing the top of his chest, letting you catch a glimpse of the silver chain that hung around his neck and just the right amount of chest hair.

As your gaze travelled up his body, finally landing on his face, you saw that he was already looking at you. Knowing you had been caught, you placed your glass down and stood up, walking over to Sam to see if he had found any information. Just anything to make it look like you hadn’t been checking him out, but Zemo had noticed. He didn’t say anything, just smirking to himself as he made himself a drink.

Thankfully, Bucky returned from his ‘walk’, closing the door behind him. “Well, the Wakandans are here. They want Zemo. Bought us some more time” Bucky informed you all, just adding another complication into the mess you had all found yourselves in.

“Were you followed?” Sam asked, standing as you both followed Bucky over to the kitchen.

“No” Bucky answered.

“How can you be so sure?” Zemo questioned, joining the four of you in the kitchen.

“Because I know when I’m being followed” Bucky shot him a glare.

“It was sweet of you to defend me at least” Zemo hummed, sipping from his drink.

“Hey, you shut it. No one’s defending you. You killed Nagel” Sam reminded him.

“Do we really have to litigate what may or may not have happened?” Zemo asked as if it meant nothing.

“There’s nothing to litigate. You straight shot the man” Sam couldn’t believe he was having this argument but you just smiled to yourself, knowing that Zemo was just trying to bother him. The Baron just shrugged, moving to stand on the opposite side of the kitchen island from you.

“Sam” Bucky got his attention, and you were about to listen to what he had to say but Zemo got your attention.

“Schatzi” the nickname made you turn to the Baron. You weren’t sure what the word translated to specifically, but you were sure it was a term of endearment of some kind, something that should have bothered you but didn’t even in the slightest.

“What?” you asked, turning your attention to him.

“Turkish Delight?” Zemo offered, completely throwing you off.

“Uh…” you weren’t sure how to answer that, this man repeatedly confused and surprised you. He just found out that the Wakandans were here for him and he was offering you candy?

Even though you didn’t really answer, he handed you one of the wrapped candies, placing it in your palm. “There. Irresistible” he smiled, looking you in the eye as he spoke. You had no idea why, it was just something about the way he said it, about the way that he looked at you, but it made heat rise to your cheeks and you just knew that he noticed. But neither of you commented, you just unwrapped the treat and ate it.

“Y/n” Bucky said your name to get your attention when he realised you hadn’t heard anything they had been talking about.

“Sorry, what?” you asked, looking back at Bucky and Sam.

“Did you hear what we were just talking about” Bucky asked.

“Uh no, I was…eating” you confused, blushing some more but this time from embarrassment.

“Karli bombed a GRC supply depot. There were eleven injured and three dead, and they’re threatening more attacks if their demands aren’t met” Bucky informed you.

“What? They haven’t done anything like that before” your eyes widened in shock.

“She’s getting worse” Zemo commented disapprovingly.

It was becoming even more important that you found Karli. Sam made the point that they would probably be holding a memorial for Donya and that the best way of finding Karli was to get some information on where it was being held.

And so, the four of you got ready and headed back out into Riga. Zemo lead the way, your own personal tour guide, to a refugee camp.

“Shame what’s become of this place” Zemo spoke as you stepped into the camp, looking around with a sense of familiarity but a little distain. “When I was young, we used to come here for fabulous dinners and parties. I knew nothing of the politics of the time, of course, but I remember it being beautiful” he told you, and his words did seem more directed towards you than the men you were with.

“It still has a certain beauty to it” you claimed, and you meant it. You couldn’t picture what it was like all those years ago but if you took away the pain that was happening here, you would find it rather beautiful.

“I envy you, being able to see it with fresh eyes” Zemo looked down at you, and he seemed sincere.

“I’m gonna take a look around upstairs. See what you can find out here” uninterested in the conversation, Sam took a step back from the group. “And keep an eye on him” he ordered the two of you.

“I’ll stay out of your way” Zemo assured Bucky, who just nodded before going to look around and see what he could find. “Liebling, would you mind accompanying me?” the Baron asked you.

“Sure…why?” you nodded, wondering what he was planning.

With a small smile, Zemo placed a hand on your back and led you over to where a group of children were playing. “Children usually have an easier time trusting women” he lent down towards your ear to explain.

Still wondering what he was up to, you walked with him, it was your job to keep an eye on him after all. He removed his hand from your back and pulled a wooden stool out in front of him, sitting down on a bench behind it. On top of the stool, he emptied out wrapped candies from a brown paper bag that he retrieved from a pocket in his coat. That had certainly gained the interest of the children.

“Turkish Delight” he informed the young girl who had stepped closer, “it was always my son’s favourite.”

The comment had made you glance at him, a feeling of sympathy settling in your chest. You knew what had happened to his family, Sam had explained his motives to you when he was explaining who Zemo was, but this was the first time he had spoken of either his son or his wife. He had only just mentioned Sokovia for the first time when you arrive in Riga, but you understood, you couldn’t imagine how painful the subject must be.

The girl came closer and took one of the Turkish Delights, waiting to see what the two of you wanted. “My old friend, Donya, passed away. Did you know her?” Zemo asked and she nodded. “I would like to pay my last respects. Do you know where her funeral will be?” again, she nodded.

Zemo smiled and pointed towards his ear, to which the girl hurried around to his side to whisper to him. Once the girl stepped away again, Zemo looked up at you and nodded, letting you know that he had the location.

“Thank you” you gave the girl a kind smile and gestured for her to take another Turkish Delight, and she did with a smile of her own.

Zemo stood, picking up a handful of sweets. “This is our little secret, okay?” he asked and all of the children nodded. In return, he handed them the remaining sweets for them to divide between themselves. “Liebling?” he offered you his arm and you couldn’t help but smile a little as you took it, letting him guide you back towards Bucky and Sam, who had returned.

Bucky gave you a questioning look as you approached but you just shrugged at him. “Cute kids” Zemo commented as the two of you walked past them.

It wasn’t until you all returned to the safehouse that Zemo revealed what he had learnt. You, Sam and Bucky sat on the couch while Zemo headed for the kitchen.

“That little girl. What did she tell you?” Bucky asked as Zemo approached you all with a tray of tea.

“The funeral is this afternoon” Zemo told you, placing the tray down.

“You know the Dora’s coming for you any minute. In fact, they’re probably lurking outside right now. Keep talking” Bucky reminded him but it sounded more like a threat.

“Leaving you to turn on me once we get to Karli. I prefer to keep my leverage” while it was irritating to the three of you, Zemo made sense. He was a wanted criminal, why would he give you all the information he had so that you didn’t need him anymore.

Bucky abruptly stood up, rounding the coffee table. He took the glass straight out of Zemo’s hand and threw it at the wall behind him, causing it to shatter. “You wanna see what someone can do with leverage?” he threated, trying to intimidate him.

“Bucky, calm down” you jumped up from your seat and got between the two men, your back to Zemo. “Don’t let him use this against you” you pleaded with Bucky, you knew he was better than threats of physical violence and you didn’t need him beating himself up about this later on.

“She’s right, man” Sam spoke calmly, and Bucky thankfully backed off. “Let me make a phone call” he gave Bucky one last look before leaving the room, and Bucky followed after him.

“Very sweet of you, thank you” Zemo smirked slightly as you turned to face him. You had defended him against your friend, and he suspected multiple motivations behind your actions.

“Don’t mention it” you sighed, shaking your head at him.

“Want some Cherry Blossom tea?” Zemo offered, as if the confrontation just never happened.

“That actually sounds pretty good” you confessed.

He smiled and gestured towards the remaining cups on the tray, you picked one up and took a seat on the couch, letting out a small sigh as you did so. Zemo picked up another cup before sitting beside you.

“I, uh…I’m sorry about your family…and your country, I can’t imagine what you went through” you spoke up after a moment of silence. You contemplated bringing up the subject but decided to give it a shot.

You knew that the others found it hard to sympathise with him after everything he put them through and you understood that, but it felt like something that had to be said. The Baron looked at you before looking back at his drink, and you noticed his hesitation about speaking. It was understandably painful for him and you were ready to drop the subject if needs be.

“Now, why should you apologise? You didn’t even know about it until recently” Zemo asked. It wasn’t the response you had expected but you weren’t too surprised, he had been acting unphased by nearly everything happening, he was just keeping up that act now.

“I…guess I just thought someone should” you admitted, and that answer made him think for a moment. “If you would like to talk about it, I’d listen” you offered, assuming he hadn’t had anyone to confide in for a long time, “or we can pretend I never mentioned it.”

He hesitated but finally spoke. “My father lived outside the city, I thought we would be safe there” Zemo started and instantly all of your attention was on him, you hadn’t really expected him to speak about it but now that he was, all you would do was listen. “My son was excited, he could see the Iron Man from the car window. I told my wife ‘Don’t worry, they’re fighting in the city. We’re miles from harm.’” You couldn’t imagine the guilt is must have felt for that. “When the dust cleared…and the screaming stopped…it took me two days until I found their bodies. My father…still holding my wife and son in his arms” the way he stared at the tea in his hands told you that he was reliving that moment, it was one of those things that just sticks with you. You can’t forget, you can only move forward. “And the Avengers? They went home…I admit, I let vengeance consume me, but my time alone provided plenty of opportunities for insight. Perhaps I have changed to an extent since my arrest, but I still stand by what I believe. Idols, superheroes, they are dangerous.”

You didn’t say anything, there was nothing to be said, so you just reached over and placed your hand on his, stroking your thumb back and forth in a comforting manner. Nothing could change the past, nothing could make it better, and you knew that he didn’t want or need to hear your condolences. You just wanted him to know that he wasn’t alone, he had formed an unlikely alliance here. Zemo looked down at where your hand sat atop his, the gesture was appreciated.

The sound of voices approaching caught your attention, you pulled your hand away from his just as Sam and Bucky came back into the room. Neither of the noticing.

“Ready?” Sam asked, not wanting to miss the memorial. You just nodded as you stood up.

The way you pulled your hand away when your friends entered the room suggested to Zemo that the gesture had meant a little more than simple sympathy. It was something you thought you should hide from your friends, and it made him all the more curious.

Once again, Zemo was leading the three of you through Riga. You were a little distracted, taking a moment to just look around and admire the unfamiliar streets. Cobblestone streets, old fashioned streetlamps, bright flowers decorating windows, it wasn’t what you were used too, and you loved it.

“Hey, Y/n, you with us?” Sam tapped your arm, bringing you back to reality.

“Yeah, sorry…just looking around” you told them honestly, with a small laugh.

“I take it you’re enjoying Riga?” Zemo asked rhetorically, glad that you were enjoying your visit.

“I definitely think I could take a vacation here” you nodded.

“When was the last time you had a vacation?” Bucky asked, knowing that wasn’t really something you had much opportunity for.

“Uh…since I was a child I guess, and I never left the States” you answered.

“Well, I’d be honoured to be your tour guide if we get the chance” Zemo offered with a smile.

“I’d like that” you returned the smile, definitely liking the sound of having Zemo show you more of the country, maybe even more of the world.

“Karli Morgenthau is too dangerous for you guys to be pulling this shit” a loud voice interrupted, making you look ahead to see John Walker approaching.

“How’d you find us now?” Bucky called to him.

“Come on, you think two Avengers can walk around Latvia without drawing attention?” Lemar asked and you couldn’t really argue with that, it wasn’t a miracle that they found you.

“No more keeping us in the dark” Walker told them. “You can start by telling us why you broke him out of prison” he pointed towards Zemo.

“He did that himself, technically” Bucky corrected him.

“This better be an unbelievable explana-” Walker began but was interrupted.

“Hey, take it easy before it gets weird” Sam stepped in when he noticed how agitated John was getting.

“And who’s this?” John asked, pointing towards you this time.

“A friend” you told him simply.

“Of who? Them or him?” he questioned you, gesturing towards Zemo, accusing you of being a partner in crime of the Baron.

“Them…but more him than you” you shrugged, but he didn’t seem pleased with your answer.

“I know where Karli is” Zemo told the soldiers, tired of the conversation, and began to pass John but was stopped by a hand against his chest.

“Where?” John demanded an answer.

“All we know is it’s a memorial” Sam answered when Zemo remained silent.

Seeing something up ahead, Zemo pushed John’s hand away and passed him anyway. “Liebling?” he looked back at you, encouraging you to follow, so you nodded and did.

When John realised that you were both walking away, John placed a hand on your shoulder to halt you. “Look, we’re kinda busy and don’t have time to argue, so get out the way, okay?” you gave him a sarcastic smile as you pushed his hand off of you.

“Do you know who I am? I’m Captain America” John was clearly angry with the way you responded to him, annoyed that you truly didn’t care about who he was.

“You’re a guy in a star-spangled suit, alright? Calm down” you scoffed at his arrogance before pushing past him to catch up with Zemo, missing the look of anger on John’s face.

The other four followed behind the two of you, John and Sam arguing about how to handle the situation with Karli. John planned on fighting no matter what, but Sam wanted to try to talk to Karli, which was the plan you agreed with.

“So, where exactly are we going?” you asked Zemo, ignoring the bickering that was happening behind you.

“My associate is just up ahead” Zemo announced, which seemed to get the attention of the others.

At the end of the road was the girl from the camp who had given you the location of the funeral. You all approached her, Zemo and you standing in front of the others since she better recognised the two of you.

“Hello, my friend” Zemo greeted her kindly. “This is for your family” he handed her a generous amount of money, making you smile. He didn’t have to offer her so much, but he did. “Can you show us the way?” he asked.

The girl nodded, gesturing for you all to follow her before walking ahead, and so you all did. She took you to where the memorial was being held before disappearing futher into the building, leaving you all to your business.

Once alone, John handcuffed Zemo to a boiler, telling Sam that he had ten minutes before you were doing things ‘his way’. Sam nodded to you and Bucky before following the path that the young girl had gone, going to find Karli, while the rest of you would wait.

Bucky stood in the doorway to prevent John from interfering too early, John sat against the wall looking agitated, Lemar sat on the ground beside him, and you stood by Zemo. All of you just waiting.

“No, no, no. This is a bad idea” John mumbled to himself as he started pacing.

“It hasn’t been ten minutes, John. Just sit tight” Bucky watched him carefully.

“Don’t do that. Don’t patronise me” John snapped.

“He’s not, we all just have to stay calm” you spoke up calmly, trying to talk the man down. Sam knew what he was doing.

“Who even are you?” John’s anger and frustration was peaking now as he walked over to you, beginning to get in your face.

Before John could get too close, Zemo had stepped out and got in between you both, his wrist still attached to the boiler. Looking between you both, John just scoffed, a comment forming on his tongue.

“Sam knows what he’s doing” Bucky assured the two men, getting John’s attention back on him. Instantly, the two men started arguing again.

“What are you thinking?” Zemo asked you quietly, keeping your attention on him.

“He’s antsy…” you commented, squinting at the back of the blonde’s head, “something’s going on with him.”

“What do you think it is?” he wanted to know what you thought.

“…performance issues” you half-joked, earning an eyebrow raise from Zemo. “I mean it, probably feels a little…emasculated. Plus, the pressure is probably getting to him. He thinks he’s Captain America, but he knows he’s not Steve Rogers” you explained yourself.

“Good observation” Zemo nodded in approval.

“Thanks. Do I get a Turkish Delight for my troubles?” you joked, smiling up at him.

“You can have whatever you like” Zemo promised you and it felt like a very real offer. For a moment, you just looked at each other, you trying to figure out exactly what he meant by that and him allowing you to do so.

“Ah, crap” you sighed, the moment ruined when you saw Bucky following John and Lemar further into the building.

“Impatient” Zemo chastised under his breath, equally annoyed about being interrupted.

“Alright, let’s get you out of these” you turned to the handcuffs, examining them.

“You know how to pick locks?” Zemo asked, digging into an inside pocket of his coat before holding a lockpick out for you. “Always prepared” he told you proudly when you gave him a questioning look.

“Of course I know how to pick a lock, who do you think I am?” you answered, taking the pick from him. “Honestly just surprised that you haven’t already picked it” you hummed, using the lockpick he had provided to open the cuffs.

“I was enjoying my time with you” the Baron smiled when you looked up at him, a little surprised by the comment, as the cuffs opened. Was he…flirting with you? So blatantly?

Once again, the moment was cut short by the sound of fighting and gunshots. “Come on” you handed him the lockpick back before the two of you headed further into the building.

You pulled your gun out of your holster, readying it in case you ran into trouble, but Zemo pulled out a gun of his own.

“Again, with the gun?” you looked at him in disbelief, where does he keep getting them from and why is nobody noticing?

“Will you allow me to keep it this time?” Zemo asked.

“Yes, whatever” you nodded, you weren’t going to unarm him in a dangerous situation, you could use the extra gun.

The building was like a maze, you had been following corridor after corridor and you still hadn’t come across anyone. Neither of you knew the building and so took it in turns to decide which turn to take.

The two of you were walking down the next corridor, passing the start of another when a gunshot rang out. Without hesitation, Zemo grabbed you and pulled you both away from the corridor’s entrance, pinning you to the wall beside it by your shoulders.

Your breathing was heavy as you processed what had happened, that Zemo had pulled you out of the way of potentially being shot. Now the two of you stood a little too close, his body shielding yours against the wall, chests falling and rising as your breathing steadied, wide eyes looking up at him.

You couldn’t have been there for long, just looking at each other, before his lips were suddenly on yours, his hands sliding up from your shoulders to cup your face. With an almost embarrassing lack of restraint, you returned the kiss with an equal passion. Your hands gripped his arms, holding each other close as an unspoken tension was slightly released.

It reminded you of that night in Madripoor, of the pull you felt towards him and the spark that he ignited within you. The difference right now was that there was no reason for the two of you two kiss, no act to keep up, nobody to convince, it was simply because you both wanted too.

Another gunshot pulled you both away from each other. Zemo took a step back as you raised your gun, stepping out from behind the corner to shoot the attacker, landing a non-fatal hit to the leg. Aiming to disable but not to kill. Zemo tapped your shoulder before you both hurried down the corridor, not having the time to linger on the moment you both just shared or address what it meant.

The two of you came to a room, your eyes widening when you saw Karli. Zemo didn’t even hesitate before shooting at her, he managed to hit her once but when he shot again, she jumped over a table and took cover.

“Zemo” you warned as he approached, knowing Sam wouldn’t be okay with him killing her.

As the two of you approached the table, he shot at the ground to keep her behind it, but got distracted by multiple small vials of a blue substance that had fallen to the floor.

“Is this what I think it is?” Zemo picked up a vial, examining it. It could only be one thing, the super soldier serum.

You flinched a little at the sound of glass shattering when he started destroying the vials, but you couldn’t say that you completely disagreed with the destruction of them. In the end, it was probably for the best.

While he was distracted, Karli quickly got up and ran for the stairs. You acted as quickly as you could and shot in her direction but missed and she escaped with another one of the Flag Smashers. Next thing you knew, Captain America’s shield was flying in front of your face, hitting Zemo in the side of the head and knocking him unconscious.

“Zemo” you gasped under your breath before kneeling down to check on him.

You carefully took his head in your hands and examined his face, he wasn’t bleeding. You checked his pulse and gently lay his head back down, he seemed alright for the most part. While you were fretting over the Baron, you didn’t see John picking up and pocketing a surviving vial, and then Sam, Bucky, and Lemar were running into the room.

You looked up at Sam and Bucky, and they just looked at you as if to ask ‘what the hell happened?’

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sisterspooky1013 · 3 years

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Only One Choice, Part 2, Chapter 16

Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

May passes into June and they quietly acknowledge that it has been one year since the day Mulder walked into the autopsy bay. They spend their weekends watching movies, making love, and hanging out with the Gunmen, Missy often in attendance as she and Byers become somewhat of an item. Every other Sunday they have lunch with her mother, Mulder meeting Bill by way of an awkward phone call and a promise that they will come out to visit San Diego sometime soon. The moratorium on weekday overnights fades away and the days they spend in each other’s beds begin to outnumber those that they don’t.

One day in early August, Mulder laments how lonely Priscilla gets when he’s gone for the night, crying and following him from room to room when he comes home and plaguing him with guilt. Scully suggests that he bring her over with him, setting up a litter box and food bowl in an unused corner of the living room. Without the daily need to care for a cat, he spends more and more time at her apartment, his suits taking over half her closet and his T-shirts occupying one of her drawers. He still has his fish to feed and so they can tell themselves that they don’t technically live together, though it’s been weeks since anyone slept at his apartment. The excitement of new love gives way to the familiar comfort of domesticity, questions about their lives prior to meeting morphing into what they’re having for dinner and whether someone can pick up toilet paper on the way home from work. They each visit the doctor for a full workup and, everything coming back clear, stop using condoms, relying on the progestin shot Scully goes in for every three months to prevent pregnancy.

Far from boring, they find worthy sparring partners in one another, debating everything from whether the moon landing was a hoax to the merits of String Theory, arguing their points of view passionately before they agree to disagree and then let their clothes fall to the floor. They discover the things they love best about one another; Mulder’s unrelenting curiosity and Scully’s bottomless compassion, as well as those they like the least; his forgetfulness when he’s focused on something and her tendency to shut him out when she’s upset. Whether completing a crossword puzzle together or watching Jeopardy, they embrace the ways that they are different and how they balance one another out; his creativity to her order, her planning to his impulsivity, his acceptance to her skepticism. Yin and yang, tall and small, bold and tempered; there is a completeness in their union that makes them each feel whole.

Even in their intensity and their commitment, Mulder has never again uttered the words ‘I love you’ and Scully has never said them at all. Far from a red flag or a hesitance to be vulnerable, they simply don’t feel the need to express it aloud. She knows he loves her when he drives forty minutes out of his way to pick up her favorite donuts or reads the latest issue of JAMA just so he can discuss the articles with her. He knows she loves him when she indulges him in theoretical discussions on the mating rituals of Sasquatch, not bothering to point out that the creature doesn’t exist, or wastes entire Saturdays watching movies that were bad enough to earn Razzies because he finds poorly made films entertaining.

Scully has never met Mulder’s parents, accepting his explanation that his mother is cold and his father distant, which is why she feels caught off guard when he calls her at work on a Tuesday to tell her that his mother had a stroke, and he is on his way to the hospital. He doesn’t ask her for anything, but she leaves work anyway, approaching the reception desk of the emergency department with a level of calm only a doctor is capable of.

“I’m looking for Teena Mulder, she should have been admitted within the last few hours,” she says to the young woman behind the desk.

“Yes, she’s here,” the woman answers, “but visiting hours don’t start until 4:00 and someone is already with her now. Are you family?” The woman looks at her expectantly.

“Um, no, I’m not,” she replies, not bothering to explain that Tenna Mulder is her boyfriend’s mother, who she’s never met.

“You can take a seat then,” the woman says with a well-practiced smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.

She finds an empty seat and pulls in a deep breath, taking out her cell phone in hopes she can reach Mulder, though cell reception in hospitals is notoriously bad.

“Excuse me, are you Dana?” someone says from a few seats away, and she turns to see an older man, perhaps in his sixties, with receding dark brown hair and tired bags under his eyes.

“Yes,” she replies, eyeing him skeptically as he rises from his seat and takes the one just beside her.

“I’m Bill Mulder, Fox’s father,” he says, offering his hand.

She takes it, scanning him for similarities to Mulder and finding none, other than his complexion and hair color.

“Oh, hello, it’s nice to meet you Mr. Mulder,” she stumbles, a bit confused. As Mulder tells it, his parents are divorced and not on friendly terms.

“Please, you can call me Bill,” he says with a small smile, and she nods. “Fox is with her now, though I don’t think she’s awake,” he offers.

They sit in awkward silence, Scully realizing she has absolutely no information with which to start a conversation. Mulder has told her nothing about his parents, aside from the details relevant to his sister’s abduction. She doesn’t know what Bill Mulder does, or did, for a living, or where he lives. Just when she’s considering going home, Mulder emerges from a set of double doors.

He was clearly looking for his father, but when he sees Scully his eyebrows knit and his chin puckers in relief. She stands and he scoops her up, squeezing her so tight it hurts.

“Thank you for coming,” he whispers hoarsely into her ear.

They part, hands clasped, and he addresses his father.

“Mom just woke up, you can go see her soon, but since Scully is here I’d like to take her back first.”

Scully gives him an incredulous look.

“Mulder, I’m sure your mom doesn’t want to meet me for the first time from a hospital bed,” she pleads.

“I know, but I want you to look at her chart. I just want to make sure that what the doctors are saying is accurate,” he says with desperate eyes, and she nods.

He leads her back through the double doors and into a room where a tall white-haired woman is reclining in the bed, an oxygen cannula tucked under her nose. While she saw little resemblance between Mulder and his father, the likeness to his mother is almost jarring; her stately nose and hooded eyes curating in Scully an immediate fondness for her. She blinks slowly at them, confusion furrowing her brow.

“Mom, this is Dana,” he says, and her expression shifts into one that is slightly pained.

She attempts to speak, one side of her mouth rooting for words that she can’t quite find.

“Hi Mrs. Mulder, I’m sorry we’re meeting under these circumstances,” Scully offers, “I’m a medical doctor, Fox asked me to take a look at your chart, if that’s okay?”

Teena nods and closes her eyes, and Scully goes to retrieve her chart from near the door. After she’s looked it over, they say goodbye and return to the lobby to find Mulder’s father.

“Go ahead, Dad, I’ll see you in there,” Mulder says, and then walks Scully to her car.

“So, what do you think?” he asks as they stand next to her open car door, worry crumpling his features.

“I don’t see anything out of the ordinary, Mulder. Her stroke was significant, you can see that by the degree to which it’s impacting her speech and gross motor function. It shouldn't get any worse, but she’ll need to go through rehab, and likely need some in-home care for a bit until we know the long term impact. It’s very possible that she’ll be able to continue living independently, but not right away.”

Mulder heaves a big sigh and nods. “I’m gonna stay here for a bit, but I think I’ll be home before you go to bed.”

“Of course, whatever you need,” she replies, bringing her palm to his cheek. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I think so. Thank you, again, for coming down here. You didn’t have to.”

“Mulder, of course I did,” she says with concern. “I’ll see you when you get home, okay?”

He kisses her one, two, three times, pulling her close for a beat, clinging to her for dear life.

“I love you,” he chokes out, and she hugs him tighter.

“I love you too,” she replies, her chin tucked tight into the crook of his neck.

When he releases his grip on her, she brings her hands to his jaw, brushing her thumbs over his cheeks.

“We’ll get through this, okay? We’ll figure it out,” she assures him, and he nods tersely.

———

She’s in bed reading, Priscilla curled up on her stomach, when she hears the thunk of the deadbolt.

“Mulder?” she calls out, and he pokes his head through the door.

“I’m gonna take a quick shower, I’ll be in in a minute,” he says, then disappears again.

He returns ten minutes later, shower-fresh and warm. She sets her book aside to envelop him in her arms, his head finding a home on her chest as his arms snake around her ribcage.

“How is she?” she asks as she strokes her fingers through his hair and down his neck soothingly.

“The same,” he says with a defeated tone, “they might release her to rehab tomorrow.”

“And how are you?” she asks, giving his neck a little squeeze.

He groans. “I don’t know. I’ve been thinking a lot.”

“About your mom?”

“No,” he says, propping up on his elbow to look at her, “about life, I guess.”

She lifts her eyebrows expectantly, waiting for him to continue.

“I don’t want to toil away in the BSU for the rest of my life, Scully. If I die tomorrow, what will I have to show for it?”

She frowns at him sympathetically.

“You make a difference in the BSU, Mulder. You help catch murderers, prevent further loss of life. It may not seem like it because you’re so far removed from the people it impacts, but you do.”

He flops back onto the bed, eyes on the ceiling.

“You’re probably right, but it still feels pretty pointless.”

“What would you rather be doing?” she asks gently, rolling on to her side to face him.

“Honestly?” he steals a glance at her before continuing, “investigating The X Files. Making progress in understanding what happened to my sister. Working to expose those who are responsible for the coverup of secret government operations.”

“Maybe you should talk to AD Skinner, try again. Maybe The X files could be reopened,” she says softly, brushing her palm over his arm.

Mulder shakes his head. “Nothing has changed, Scully. They won’t let me operate without a partner and no one wants to work with me.”

“I’d work with you, but that’s against bureau policy,” she says with a small smile, and he looks at her with an affectionate gaze.

“I’m sure you’d have a field day debunking all my work,” he says coyly.

“I would never,” she retorts sarcastically.

He rolls back towards her, pulling her close with her head tucked under his chin.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he says, his voice full of emotion.

“Well you do have me, so there’s no point in thinking about it,” she replies.

He sighs deeply, reaching past her to turn off the bedside lamp, and they sleep.

#the x files #txf #dana scully #fox mulder #gillovny #msr #sculder #x files fanfic #alternate universe

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itsmeevie01 · 4 years

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Bio!dad Bruce Day 7-Fashion Show

Marinette laughed as she linked arms with Alix and hurried out of school. Today, the girls had arranged to go out for the evening, and they were insistent that nothing would ruin their fun, even an akuma. As the shorter girls hurried away, Alya watched from where she stood on the steps. When she had transferred, she had hoped that the girl she had made a connection with would become her best friend. Now, as they neared the end of April, she had resigned herself to the fact that she wasn’t part of the other’s inner circle.

Although she was friendly with the entire class, Marinette had quickly proven to be hard to get close to. She had her life out of school, and she had her life in school. They didn’t mix.

Unknown to the rest of the school, Marinette’s birthday was coming up. Every year, she would do something small with Tom and Sabine. Sometimes she would invite a friend over. Mostly, she kept her birthday quiet. The teen knew that if she offered, her class would love to celebrate with her, but she didn’t see it as a big deal. three years earlier, Bruce had asked her if she wanted to do anything for her birthday. When she had mentioned that she didn’t really celebrate it that much, he had nodded in acceptance. Each year, he flew into Paris and took her out for a day of shopping, an amusement park, or a fancy dinner. This year, he had invited her to join him in Gotham so that her brothers could come along. Since the event earlier in the month, Bruce had been more at ease when talking about many of the things going on in his home city. Now that he knew that Marinette was already entrenched in the hero life that he had been working so hard to keep her out of, he had opened up about the times that the family had vanished during her visits.

When Marinette had eagerly agreed to join him in Gotham, Bruce had asked his daughter of she had any preferences on what they did. The girl, as expected, shook her head and told him to surprise her. As long as they were together, it didn’t really matter. Imagine her surprise, when she got home from her late-night movie with Alix, to find her parents waiting for her, both buzzing in excitement.

“Mariette! Oh good, we were afraid that you would be out later. Bruce got in contact with us, he is going to fly you our for the entire weekend, instead of just one day!” While the bakers continued to gush about how wonderful it was for Bruce to fly Marinette out for her birthday, the girl paused. Usually, as much as she enjoyed her brothers, they were very upfront with her. When she had asked if they knew what Bruce was planning, they had been cagey. Now, he was flying her out on a Thursday, and bringing her back on a Tuesday? That was a long time considering she still had school.

Later that week as she packed her carry on, the noirette crinkled her nose in concentration. She had been doing the best she could to figure out what it could be, but she still had found nothing on their plans for the next few days. Once she had finished, she plopped the bag next to her suitcase. Whatever her family had planned, she could only hope that she was ready for it.

The next day at school, Marinette rolled her eyes as Alya started to chatter at her. The girl was nice, yes, but Marinette had seen what had happened when she had started to zero in on information. Alya was not likely to let anything go, which sadly, meant that for the sake of her secret identity, Marinette had t keep her distance. When Nino plopped into his seat in front of her, he turned to flash Marinette a grin. “you ready for your trip, dudette?” Marinette smiled in return,

“So ready! I finished packing last night, so Maman is going to pick me up at noon. That makes sure I have a little under four hours to get on my plane.” Nino nodded in understanding.

“International travel is nothing to mess with. You may be joined by Chloe; she is flying out to visit her mother. Where are you flying into?”

“New York! They said that they would meet me there, and that we would head back after whatever surprise they’ve been planning.” Nino snickered at his friend’s frustration. It was well known within their friend group that the girl liked to know what was going on so that she could plan accordingly. The last time they had tried to surprise her, Kim had ended up with a broken arm, and Alix had gotten enough blackmail to last a lifetime. It was also pretty common for the girl to refer to her family in vague terms. As much as she trusted her friends, her class was more than willing to dig into her personal life in an attempt to force friendship. Because of this, Marinette tried to keep her personal life a vague as possible. In situations like this, she was grateful that Nino understood what she meant, because Alya had caught onto their conversation and started to ask as many questions as she could. Thankfully, Chloe must have gotten the notice from Nino to rescue her, because the blonde swaggered into the room and made a beeline for the duo’s desk.

“So, Mari trash, what this I hear about you leaving the country?” while Alya bristled at the name that the heiress had thrown out, Marinette sent her friend a secret smile. Chloe sent her a nod before returning to riling up Alya until Madame Bustier made her way in, effectively shutting down all conversations.

The girls giggled as they hurried through the airport. When they had realized that they were on the same flight, they had agreed to meet up at the airport and wait out the extra time together. As the duo sat there, they chatted and traded pictures, and discussed fashion. When Chloe mentioned that her mother was taking her to meet a ‘rich client who she wont name. Ridiculous!’ Marinette paused. “Chloe, that’s not the only reason that your flying out, right?” the blond gave an undignified snot.

“Honestly Mari, I wish! She’s dragging me to her ‘secret fashion show for the ages’ as she calls it.” Soon the girls were giggling and discussing the latest trends. When the flight attendants called for first class, the two girls gather their bags and made their way over to the line that was forming. When they had gotten settled (conveniently next to each other, which spoke of manipulation to Marinette, although she refrained from mentioning it to the diva next to her), they each pulled out a book and got ready for their flight. Thankfully, they both made the transatlantic flights enough to know what to expect.

That evening, when they arrived, the girls hurried to get through security and collect their bags. As they exited the baggage claim, both girls started to scan for their rides. On one side of the airport, was Audrey Bourgeois’ personal assistant. Next to her stood the stately figure of Alfred Pennyworth. While Marinette threw herself at Alfred in a hug, Chloe nodded to the frazzled looking brunette who had greeted them. The girls hugged and parted ways, promising to meet up on Monday if they didn’t see each other before hand.

While Chloe settled in her mother’s penthouse, Marinette was buried in a pile of hugs from her brothers. When they had finally given her room to breathe, her father introduced her to a girl who had been standing nearby. Cassandra (her sister!!) smiled at her and waved shyly. Marinette had sent her a smile worthy of the sun and given the girl a hug in return.

The next morning, the two girls were the first to join Alfred in the kitchen. Was Marinette caught Alfred up on the last few months, she started to help him with breakfast. Cassandra (Cass, Marinette scolded herself) settled on a stool to watch her move through the kitchen with a fluidity that spoke of many, many hours of experience. Once Bruce and they boys had joined them, the group settled at the dining table.

When the food had been cleared up, Marinette turned to her father, “you know, you made it really hard to pack for this trip, when I had no idea what we are going to do!” Bruce smiled at her ire and easily brushed aside her worries.

“it’s a good thing that we’re going shopping then, isn’t it, Marinette?” the way the girls face lit up made Tim snort.

“B, you really shouldn’t have said that, now she’s not going to sit still for the rest of the day.” The teen made a face at the look sent his way and Marinette huffed at her older brother.

“At least I know how to dress myself nicely without having someone pick my clothes out for me!” Dick sniggered at her response before wincing as she directed her fury his way. “don’t think I’m ignoring you, Richard.” The man froze, because his sister had used his first name only once and that occasion was not to be brought up unless the world was ending. “your fashion choices are even worse than Dad’s!” As the family started to argue about the validity of her statements, Marinette slipped away, beckoning for Cassandra (Cass!) to follow her.

Once they were in Marinette’s temporary room, the girl handed her sister (!!) a small wrapped package. “Tim gave me a heads up that there was a new addition to the family, and I wanted to make something for you.” The other girl studied her for a moment before hesitantly ripping the paper. Inside was a small journal that was leather bound and had the name Cass written in an elegant script (A/N Cass is probably the character that I am the least familiar with the origin of. That said, I’m going to run off the assumption that she is learning to read when she is brought to join n the Wayne family. If I am wrong, lmk, for now, this is what we are vibing with). The quiet girl gave Marinette a tentative hug as a thank you before Tim knocked on the doorframe.

“Time to go, ladies. Your chariot awaits.” Marinate rolled her eyes at their brother while throwing a pair of balled up socks at him.

“We’re coming, boy genius. Be fearful though, this is the start of an alliance. Soon, maybe ill be able to finally compete against you boys on game night without rigging the games!” Tim spluttered at her declaration as she strode past him. He huffed and hurried after the girls, bemoaning Bruce for making this trip a ‘family affair’.

Three hours later, Tim and Dick were each carrying handfuls of shopping bags, as the family of five re-entered their temporary living space. The girls were walking together, Marinette explaining some of her ideas for different designs. Alfred smiled at them as they all stood talking together, until an unfamiliar ringtone broke the low ambiance. The brothers looked at each other in confusion, while Bruce raised an eye at his youngest daughter. The girl flushed in embarrassment and dug into her purse for a long moment before pulling out a phone that was very obviously not her own. “hey! Is everything ok?” her immediate switch to French made the others pause and zero in on her conversation. “Oh, you caught it. How much damage was there?” A pause and then, “do I need to- I know I’m supposed to be on vacation but- oh fine! Leave it on my balcony in the jar, ill take care of as soon as I can.” A beat, and the girl made a face at whatever the person on the other end of the phone said. “stay safe, and call me if you need me, yeah?” once she had hung up, the girl turned back to them with a raised eyebrow. “what? Are you saying you don’t have a second phone for emergencies?”

The next day, Saturday, was a whirlwind, as Alfred got everyone up and moving by7 am. When asked what was going on by Marinette, the butler simply smiled and moved to lure Dick out of bed. When the family was once again gathered around the breakfast table, Marinette turned to her father and demanded an explanation at the reason for a wakeup call before what she considered ‘reasonable hours’. The man smiled in return, “Today, Marinette, we are going to celebrate your birthday. As promised, this year, the entire fairly will be able to join in.” the girl protested at his declaration.

“what was yesterday? I thought that was us celebrating my birthday without going overboard!” Dick laughed at her shock before jumping into the conversation.

“well, Net, yesterday was part one. Today is part two…and the part that we think you’ll like the most.” At her confusion, Tim leaned over from his spot across the dining table, pushing a stack of six tickets towards her,

“were going to Audrey Bourgeois’ secret fashion show.” The screech that came from the youngest in the family was well worth the suspense.

As the family approached the hidden venue, Marinette felt excitement bubble up once again. She had spent the day making sure that the entire family was dressed appropriately for the event. Somehow, Bruce had managed to buy a dress on the sly for her, after catching her gazing longingly at it for the duration of their time in the shop. As for the others, for the most part, they had the necessary pieces to put together a look that would be presentable at the secret show. The door was opened once they had handed over their tickets, and the Wayne family were handed a stack of passes that they hurriedly settled around their necks as they were show their way to their seats.

When the catwalk lit up, Marinette sat there, frozen, anticipating the beginning of the show. The lights blacked out, and a spotlight followed the first model on her way towards the middle of the room. Marinette’s breath caught in shock at the beauty of the coat that was trailing down the runway. As the next model made his way out, Marinette lost herself in the world of fashion.

After, Bruce turned to the girl and raised an eyebrow, “so…was this too over the top for your birthday?” the 14-year-old smiled at her father.

“no,” she breathed, “it was perfect”

whew! that was a long one! obviously, this one is not compleate, but it’s other half is going to be coming soon! any feedback is more than welcome, im going to try to keep these a little longer if i can...

also, what did y’all think of Alya? i’m not her biggest fan, but didnt want to make her a villian?

#b!dbwm2020 #b!dbwm #miraculous ladybug #maribat #My writing #shit this was supposed to be short #i love Chloe #so she will probably play a bigger role in mari's life #idk where this came from man...

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soyforramen · 3 years

Text

28. i’ve been crushing on you for so long and when i get your name in secret santa i decide to write you a love note except there’s a last minute shuffle with people trading and my gift is given to someone else (bonus: ot3! ot3!)

I know this was a prompt sent in by @arsenicpanda, but lord help me if I can find the ask.

“So, who’d you pull for Secret Santa?” Fangs asked.

Betty picked at her sandwich. The reminder of Cheryl’s forced Christmas cheer drove away what little appetite she had. Nervously, she glanced over at Jughead who seemed oblivious to her internal struggle. When he glanced at her, she smiled and shoved her sandwich towards him.

“Veronica,” he mumbled through bites. He shot Betty a glance, a concerned warning that he’d be making sure she ate later.

“Cheryl,” Betty said miserably. “I don’t even know what she’d want.”

While she and her cousin had been on better terms now that the babies were older, it was still rocky. Alice Cooper and Penelope still hadn’t learned how to co-grandparent, forcing Cheryl and Betty to work together to avoid a Hatfield and McCoy situation for every holiday."

“Something red,” Fangs said with a laugh.

“Or stupidly expensive,” Jughead added.

Betty sighed and stared out at nothing in particular. Between finals, editing the school paper, and Christmas shopping for her own family, not to mention the long list of things she hadn’t managed to get to this month, it looked more and more like she wouldn’t be getting much sleep until the New Year.

“If you wanted to stare at me, all you had to do was ask. I'll send you as many pictures as you want.”

Betty’s eyes refocused to find Toni sitting across from her. Her knowing smirk made Betty flush. Suddenly, Toni was all she could see, bright eyes twinkling with mirth and her lips temptingly full and pink. Before Betty could stammer out a response, Jughead laughed and slung his arm across her shoulders.

“Toni, are you flirting with my girlfriend?”

At the reminder of his presence, Betty squirmed and stared onto the old picnic table. Guilt crawled across her skin; after all, Toni hadn’t been the only one flirting lately.

“Have been for a while Jones,” Toni shot back with a wicked grin. “You gonna do something about it?”

Betty held her breath, waiting for an irritated response or jealous sulking, but instead Jughead threw his head back and laughed. The sound shook out the tension that had suddenly risen within in her, and she couldn’t help but join in with him. When she glanced across the table, Toni shot her a wink. This time Betty’s skin crawled with something far different than guilt.

It was the last day of finals, and Cheryl had finally rounded everyone up. A vast array of presents, the wrapping of each a reflection of the giver, was piled in the center of the common room. Betty’s was meticulously wrapped, a hand made bow sitting on top. Archie’s was wrapped with more tape than paper, and Jughead’s had been thrown into a plastic shopping bag. Veronica’s was wrapped in expensive, holographic paper, no doubt wrapped at a chic New York boutique, while Kevin’s sat in a reusable tote that proudly thanked him for his donation.

“Can we get this over with Cheryl,” Veronica said over a latte, “I have an economics test in fifteen minutes.”

“So much for holiday cheer,” Kevin said in a soto voice.

“She’s even wearing Grinch green,” Fangs added.

“Do any of you humbugs have any holiday cheer?” Cheryl asked. She set her hands on her hips as she surveyed them. “No? Then how about we make things extra interesting. We’re all redrawing names.”

A collective groan rang out. Not to be discouraged, Cheryl picked up the first gift, a small package topped off with tinsel.

“Archie, pour vous.”

Before he could take the package, Toni leapt forward and grabbed the package.

“Sorry Red, you'll have to take a rain check,” she apologized, ignoring Cheryl’s harsh look. When Cheryl started to object, Toni said, “You’re the one who changed the rules on us.”

Cheryl huffed. “Fine, I’ll allow it just this once. But anyone else who tries it -“

She let the threat hang in the air before reaching for the next present.

“And this one will be for …”

Betty watched Jughead pack from the comfort of her bed. Outside the snow fell, it’s soft plinking noise lulling her back to sleep.

“Are you sure you have to be in Ohio the whole time?”

He turned, smiling, and kissed her on the forehead. “Jellybean’s been threatening me since August that if I didn’t come up there she’d drag me there herself.”

Betty reached out and grabbed his flannel shirt, pulling him back for another kiss. “I’m sure I can fend her off.”

“I’ll miss you too," he said.

His eyes were so soft when he looked at her like that. It was almost enough for her to volunteer to drive him to his mother’s. Almost. Knowing that they had holidays to spend together years from now made it easy enough to let him leave today. That, and the fact that if she did go she’d miss the twins’ first visit Santa. (And, worse than that, she'd have to hear about it all second hand from Cheryl).

“Why don’t you ask Toni to hangout? She wants to go see that weird alien movie you've been gushing about,” Jughead said, turning back to his luggage.

All of the warm, gooeyness that she’d felt evaporated immediately. Desperate to relieve her discomfort, Betty pulled the blankets tighter around her. There wasn’t really a reason she could give as to why she could say no; after all, they were part of the same friend group and they did get along splendidly. Not to mention the inappropriateness of admitting to one’s long term boyfriend that you had a maddeningly, infuriatingly, deep crush on someone else.

“Maybe," Betty said while she picked at a loose thread.

Then again, maybe spending more time with Toni would cure her of this crush; after all, it had happened with Veronica and they’d settled into a close friendship, one Betty wouldn’t give up for anything.

“Don’t have too much fun while I’m gone,” Jughead said, picking up his bag and helmet.

He kissed her cheek and Betty mumbled out an ‘I love you’ that felt just as real, just as strong as it ever had. A few minutes later Betty’s phone chimed and she saw a text from Toni. Betty groaned and burrowed deeper into her bed.

“It’s fine, really. I can walk. It’s only a few blocks,” Toni repeated as she pulled on her jacket.

Betty glanced out the diner window. Outside, drifts of snow were quickly growing.

“Just because you can doesn’t mean you should,” Betty replied.

Despite the tension that had been building up within her, despite the fear (exhilaration? increasing desire?) of being alone in such a close space with Toni, Betty couldn’t let her walk home in this kind of weather. Even if their friendship hadn’t grown deeper over the past week and a half she still would have made the offer.

“Are you worried about me, Cooper?” Toni teased.

“Yes.”

The smile fell from Toni’s face. She searched Betty’s face, and finding what she was looking for, smiled softly at her. It was so similar to the one Jughead had given her before she left that Betty had to look away.

“Alright. Lead the way,” Toni said.

Pop’s bid them a good night on their way out, and they braced themselves for the cold. Impulsively, Betty slipped an arm through Toni’s. After all, they were friends now, closer than they had been. She did this sort of thing with Veronica all the time, though unlike with Veronica, Betty only found her crush on Toni growing deeper.

“So, what are you doing tomorrow?”

Toni shrugged and stepped closer to Betty. “Same thing we always do. Watch reruns of It’s a Wonderful Life with Grandpa and eat too much. You?”

“The Blossoms invited us over for Christmas dinner.”

“Yikes,” Toni said with a slow whistle.

Betty pulled out her keys and opened up the passenger side door. Toni nodded her thanks and sat down. A minute later they were pulling out of Pop’s parking lot.

“I take it you and Cheryl are running interference?” Betty nodded and turned on her blinker. Despite there being no one on the street, it was a ingrained habit that made Toni smile at her.

“Something like that. Mom’s convinced they’re going to cancel last minute to make us host it, so she’s been on a cleaning and decorating rampage this past week. But the kids love that Cheryl’s been staying with us.”

“That’s good. I'm down there. ” Toni pointed to the right side of the Sunnyside Trailer Park. “The most drama we get is when some idiot decides to shoot off firecrackers at 4 am.”

Betty laughed and pulled in next to the trailer surrounded by half rebuild cars. She sat on her hands to keep from rushing out of her car and checking the models of each.

“Well, this is me,” Toni said.

Betty nodded, unsure of what else to say. In her peripheral vision she saw Toni pull something out of her bag.

“You were supposed to get this at Cheryl’s Christmas exchange,” Toni said.

She held out a package with crushed tinsel wrapped around it. When Betty looked closer she realized there were different kinds of vintage cars driving along a highway, each with a pine tree strapped to the top. Glancing at Toni, she gently pulled the paper apart. She almost fainted when she realized what it was.

“Toni, this is too much, I can’t -“

Toni held up a hand. “It’s really nothing. I just got lucky at the thrift store and thought of you.”

Betty stared at the first edition copy of The Secret of the Old Clock, scared to open it least it fall to pieces in her hands. A paper peeked out of the pages, and she gently tugged it out.

‘Merry Christmas Betty!

Thought you might like this (and don’t forget to check the inside cover before you put it under glass).

From,

Your Secret Admirer.’

Upon reading those words, Betty couldn’t help but keep the smile from her face. Something like this was so heartfelt, so personal, she couldn’t help but want to take Toni into her arms and thank her profusely. Opening the book ever so gently, Betty gasped at the author's faded signature.

“Toni -“

Her voice had taken on a tone of anguish. Torn between her loyalty and the sudden tenderness she felt, Betty was at a crossroads without a map.

“Is this about Jughead?” Toni asked. Betty whipped around to look at her. With a gentle smile, Toni wrapped her hands around Betty’s.

“Call your boyfriend.”

Betty squinted at Toni, unsure. Was Toni asking her to choose between them? As if reading her mind, Toni laughed. She slipped the book out of Betty’s hands and set it on the dash.

“Call your boyfriend, Coop.”

Frowning, Betty pulled out her phone and dialed Jughead. With every ring, her heart beat more painfully against her chest.

“Hey, happy Christmas Eve eve,” came Jughead’s sleepy voice.

“Hey, I didn’t wake you did I?”

She could her him shifting in the background. “No, we were just watching the worst movie of all time.”

Jellybean yelled out in the background and there was a scuffling as the phone exchanged hands.

“Break up with him, Betty, he has no taste.”

“Santa’s Slay should never had been made,” came his tinny voice. A second later and his voice was as clear as if he were sitting next to her. “What’s up?”

“Toni’s with me, and -“

“Oh, she finally gave you her Secret Santa gift?”

Betty’s eyes drew together and she glanced over at Toni. “You knew she drew my name?”

“Actually, I drew it, but -“

“You?”

Jughead’s chuckle was throaty and deep. The sound of it sent shivers down her spin in much the same way that Toni’s look did right now. “She wanted to trade, and neither of you have been subtle.”

“But -“ There was a silence that hung in the air as Betty processed what was happening. “Do you mean -“

“I’m secure in our relationship Bets. If you want to, then you have my blessing.”

“Oh.”

He laughed again. “Merry Christmas Betts. I love you.”

“I love you too,” she said, her voice sounding far off.

The line went dead and she sat there, watching the falling snow. It felt as if her chest were going to explode. The world had expanded three times since she’d first picked up the phone and suddenly it felt as if there was a wealth of new possibilities open to her.

“Well?” Toni asked, breaking Betty out of her reverie.

Betty turned to her slowly, taking her all in. Setting her hand on the console between them, Betty slowly leaned in, hesitantly touching her lips to Toni’s.

“Thank you,” she said softly. “I really like my Christmas gift.”

Toni wrapped her hand around Betty’s and tugged her closer. “Than you’re going to have to do a better job of showing it than that.”

#toni/betty/jughead dynamic #ot3 #listen this took far too long to get done #but here's christmas in june

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ollieofthebeholder · 3 years

Text

leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall): a TMA fanfic

Read from the beginning on Tumblr || Also on AO3

Chapter 46: Martin

Having Melanie definitely helps, in ways Martin hasn’t been expecting.

In the first place, having someone new in the Archives who needs to learn the ropes—never mind that they’re still basically making it up as they go in a lot of ways—gives him a new project to focus on, and one that he doesn’t have to stress about hiding from Elias. He suspects Melanie catches on a lot quicker than she lets on, and really there’s not that much to pick up on, but she plays it a bit stupid and asks a lot of questions. On Thursday, when Elias is distracted by his weekly meeting with the library staff (which goes on longer now that Diana is gone, especially since he doesn’t seem to be telling them oh, yeah, she’s been dead for at least a year and got replaced by a monster and I let it happen to torture the Archivist), she points out that if he thinks they’re spending time trying to get her up to speed, he’ll leave them alone a bit longer. Martin isn’t sure about that, but he lets it go.

Besides that, while he doesn’t want to admit it aloud, Martin likes having someone around who’s more on his level. Melanie might have a degree, but it’s what a lot of the people up in the Library would have disparagingly called a “fluff” degree, one where she didn’t have to do the same level of intense research or the same types of papers. It means that, like Martin, she doesn’t have the same precision and academic style that Sasha and Tim do to their research and notes. At the same time, she’s been running her own thing for so long that, unlike Martin (or at least unlike Martin when he started), she isn’t afraid of operating on a hunch and a load of guesswork.

She fits in well. She’s got a bit of a bite to her, but her sense of humor is close to Martin’s, and they have similar enough tastes that they can have decent discussions but differing enough tastes that they can have spirited but ultimately friendly debates. They’ve also discovered an ability to riff off of one another. Melanie even installed a little widget on her computer that keeps track of how long she and Martin can toss jokes back and forth with a straight face before one of the others begs them to stop or laughs so hard they can’t breathe. So far their record is forty-seven minutes, but it’s only been a few days.

It’s enough to keep him distracted while he’s at work, at least. Same with Tim, or so he says. And when they’re actually focusing on the research and filing and recording of statements, it’s hard to focus on anything else. The problem is that they really can’t let themselves get too deep into it and risk falling deeper into the Eye’s thrall, so they have to pace themselves. Martin’s pretty sure it’s harder for him than it is for Tim, at least at first, but when he sees Tim’s hands shaking as he tries to resist picking up a statement, he reevaluates that a bit.

Weirdly, it’s harder to resist without Sasha there—she takes Jon Prime’s suggestion and skips out for the rest of the week—which tells Martin she’s absorbing a lot of the Beholder’s power. He ends up enlisting Melanie to make sure he and Tim don’t take work home on Friday. She practically frog-marches them down the block, then hugs them both and tells them to take care before peeling off to do whatever it is she’s planning to do for the weekend.

The weekend is the hardest part. Martin and Tim try to distract themselves, and each other, but so much of what they do reminds them that Jon isn’t there and they haven’t heard from him, except occasional texts. In sheer desperation, they collect Charlie—who misses Jon almost as much as they do—and take him to the London Zoo on Saturday. It takes a little bit for all of them to relax, but soon they’re enjoying themselves, laughing and eagerly talking about the animals and exploring the exhibits. Martin’s phone isn’t going to have enough space for all the pictures he’s taking, but he decides it’s worth it.

“You have a lovely family,” a zoo worker tells Martin with a grin as he’s snapping a photo of Tim lifting Charlie up so he can high-five a monkey through the glass of the enclosure, and Martin thanks him for the compliment without thinking twice about it. It’s not until they’re halfway home, Charlie worn out from excitement and exertion and sound asleep against Tim’s shoulder, that it catches up to him and he realizes that people they encounter out in public lump them together as a family—that people weren’t seeing him and Tim as babysitters or even uncles, but as a couple and Charlie’s fathers.

What surprises him is that he doesn’t start panicking over it. He just thinks well, that’s a thing and moves on.

Sunday they take Charlie to the St. Patrick’s Day parade; none of them have any interest in it, it’s just something to do to keep their minds occupied. Tim gets into a chat with a woman whose son is a little bit older than Charlie and seems thoughtful afterward, but won’t say anything. He’s a lot clingier that night, though, not that Martin minds.

Sasha’s back on Monday, seeming none the worse for the wear, and they settle into the usual business of things. Tim and Sasha do their usual weekly lunch; when they get back, Melanie offers to buy Martin lunch and they end up talking about the weekend. It turns out she was at the parade herself, with Georgie, and they have a decent laugh about not having run into each other. She’s curious about Charlie, though, and Martin ends up showing her the pictures he took over the weekend.

“So when are you going to adopt this kid?” Melanie asks as they head back to the Institute. It’s the first day of spring, but you wouldn’t know it from the grey and gloomy weather. It’s also started raining—shocker—and they’re huddled into their jackets with the hoods pulled up because both of them are too stubborn to carry umbrellas unless it’s pouring buckets. “I mean, you said he’s an orphan, and his grandmother doesn’t seem to care much about him. And it’s obvious he adores you all. Could do worse than having the three of you as dads.”

Martin nearly misses his step, but manages to recover. “It’s not really something we’ve talked about. But…hypothetically, if we were going to try and convince Mrs. Calloway to let us take him off her hands, we’d probably want to wait until after we’re sure it’s safe, you know? He’s a little kid. He doesn’t need to be mixed up in…all of this.”

“Fair. Meanwhile, you can just keep spoiling the hell out of him and rescuing him when you can.”

“That’s the plan.” Martin holds the Archives door open for her.

Elias is unusually present all afternoon, which puts all of them on edge. It’s not until they’re home and making dinner that Tim says quietly to Martin, “I think something’s wrong with Jon.”

Fear lances through Martin’s chest. “What makes you think that?”

Tim shrugs and hands him the lettuce. “We haven’t really heard from him since he left, except in texts. Sasha says he got in touch with her over the weekend and asked her to look into something for him—apparently Gertrude got arrested while she was in America—and she said he sounded kind of off. And now Elias is lurking about? I don’t doubt for a minute that something’s gone wrong and Elias is trying to either make things worse or find out if we know.”

“Surprised he didn’t say anything,” Martin mutters. He bites his lower lip hard enough that he feels it split and forces himself to stop. “U-unless, unless he was trying to see whether or not we could See across the ocean or whatever.”

“I’d like to think we would. Know if he was in danger, I mean. But…God. We didn’t know he’d been kidnapped or threatened or any of it. Anything could be happening and we’re not there to help.” Tim’s voice breaks on the last words.

“He’ll be okay,” Martin says, less because he actually believes it and more because he needs to believe it. “He promised.”

“Yeah.” Tim leans into Martin for a minute, then goes back to cooking.

Somehow they make it through dinner, and a couple games of backgammon after, but Martin can tell they’re both still tense and he’s already resigning himself to a restless night for both of them as they start to settle in. Melanie’s going to give them hell in the morning, he can feel it…

As the thought passes through his mind, his phone rings. A phone call this late at night is never good news, and Martin’s anxiety goes into overdrive. Something’s happened to Jon, or to Charlie, or to Sasha or Melanie…or else it’s the home calling about his mum.

He grabs for the phone and answers without looking at the display. “Hello?”

“Martin?”

Just his name, but the soft draw of the first syllable is as familiar to Martin as his own heartbeat, and he sits up straighter. “Jon? Jon, are—h-hang on.” He makes eye contact with Tim, whose head jerked up as Martin said Jon’s name, and fumbles with the phone for a minute before activating the speaker button and holding it out in front of him. “Can you still hear me?”

“Yes, I hear you just fine.” Jon’s voice is a little tinny but perfectly clear.

Tim gives a near-silent sigh and sinks down onto the side of the bed next to Martin. “Jon, thank God. We were starting to worry about you.”

“Tim?” Jon’s sigh is far more audible. “I’m sorry. I—I didn’t mean to—i-it’s been a rough week. How—is everything all right with you?”

“We’re fine. No problems.” Martin puts the arm not occupied with his phone around Tim’s shoulders, and Tim slides an arm around his waist. “Are you—how’s the—did you find anything?”

“I—I don’t know. The address Gertrude gave Zhang Xiaoling to forward anything to didn’t really pan out; it’s a short-term rental place, there must have been a dozen people through there since she and Gerard Keay stayed. The owner said he heard calliope music from West Pullman park a few nights when they were staying here, but nothing more than that.” Jon takes a deep breath. “I’m in Pittsburgh now. The records you found—that’s where Gerard Keay died, so I just…wanted to check up on that. The hospital—I could only find one nurse who remembered him being admitted. His cancer was pretty far advanced…he’d had a seizure, and they did their best, but he had another one and they couldn’t save him. The nurse was the one who told me Gertrude had been arrested—did Sasha tell you about that?”

“She did,” Tim says. “She also said you sounded…off.”

Jon’s silent for a moment. “I—was. I wasn’t feeling well. It took me far too long to realize, but—th-there was a statement I read while I was at Pu Songling, I thought I’d be okay, but a-apparently things have…progressed faster than I expected. I was—hungry, I suppose. I hadn’t thought to bring a statement. I was dizzy and weak and close to passing out, and—I opened the front pocket of my bag and found a statement in there. Was that—was it one of you?”

“Martin thought of it,” Tim says. “Right before you left, while you were showering, he asked if you’d brought a statement with you.”

“Tim’s the one who put it in your bag, though,” Martin adds.

“I should have thought of it. I should have—I really didn’t expect to be gone this long.” Jon sighs heavily. “Thank you both. Seriously. I—I might have been in actual danger if you hadn’t. But I’m okay now. I promise. I read the statement and…well, I’ve been asleep most of the day, honestly. I think I needed it.”

“Jesus,” Martin mutters. He has to close his eyes for a moment, and he feels Tim press closer to him. “The—did you, um, did you find out anything else about Gertrude?”

“Oh. Yes. She was arrested for trespassing—they found her in the morgue stood over Gerard Keay’s body, reading from a large, strangely-shaped book. Apparently his body was…mutilated, though they didn’t know if she did it, and she managed to talk them out of pressing charges somehow. The officer I spoke to doesn’t remember how. I—I may not have been able to draw as much power, being as drained as I was, but it’s also possible, even probable, that he really doesn’t remember.”

Martin looks at Tim, whose eyes reflect the worry Martin’s feeling himself. “So now what?”

Jon is silent again, but before Martin can repeat the question, he says, quietly but firmly, “I think it’s just another dead end, and I’ve decided it’s the last one. I’ve booked a ticket on a Greyhound to Washington, DC tomorrow. I’m going to stop in at the Usher Foundation, just in case they have anything that might be helpful, and then I’m coming home.”

Martin relaxes, and he feels a lot of the tension bleed out of Tim as well. “So you should be back…”

“Well, the bus doesn’t get into Washington until…hold on.” There’s the sound of fumbling and clicking. “I’d be there around five o’clock in the evening, so I likely won’t be able to even stop by the Usher Foundation until Wednesday morning. My intention is to be there as soon as they open. I don’t anticipate them having anything useful, honestly, so…if I’m fortunate, I’ll be home by Wednesday night. Worst-case scenario, early Thursday morning.”

“Call us when you know,” Tim says. “We’ll pick you up.”

“If it’s too early in the morning—”

“We’ll know enough in advance that we can set alarms. Come on, Jon, we’re not making you take the Underground home—or worse, a taxi. You’ve been away long enough. We’ll come and get you.”

“Okay. Okay,” Jon says softly. He clears his throat and adds, “How are you doing? How are—is Elias leaving you all alone?”

“For the most part. He was hovering today,” Martin answers. “We think he’s been watching you a bit, and…maybe just leaving us be to see what happens. He, um—we’ve got a new Archival Assistant.”

“We do? Who? Oh, God, did he transfer someone in?”

“Nope.” Tim pops the P hard. “He intercepted Melanie when she came by on Tuesday to read the Ivy Meadows file. Suggested she might want the job.”

“And she accepted?” Jon sounds horrified. “We warned her!”

“I know, but she’s good at this,” Martin tells him. “The researching and all. And…well, at least she knew what she was getting into. I don’t think it’s a bad thing, Jon.”

Jon sighs. “I trust your judgment. Other than that…outside of work. Are you two okay? You’re not…overloading yourselves or—or overworking or anything, right?”

“No. We’re taking it easy,” Tim promises. “Checking each other. Sasha did a bit much, got a bit close, but she took a long weekend and she’s fine. And Melanie stopped us from bringing anything home over the weekend. We actually spent it with Charlie. Took him to the zoo, the parade, that sort of thing.”

“The p—right, right, it’s St. Patrick’s Day weekend. How was it?”

They take turns telling Jon about the weekend. Martin’s already transferred the photos off his phone and onto his laptop to save space, but he promises to show Jon when he gets home. Jon laughs in all the right places.

“It sounds like you had fun,” he says, and there’s a definite wistful note to his voice. “It sounds like Charlie did, too.”

“He did,” Martin says. “He kept saying how much he wished you were there, though. He misses you. A lot.”

“I miss him, too.” Jon sighs. “And I miss both of you. Badly. I-it’s not…this hasn’t been an easy trip. Not just the, the usual issues of travel. Airport food and customs and layovers. Mechanical issues and weather delays and people who don’t seem to have grasped the concept of deodorant. Hotels and taxis and…all of that is bad enough. Open-ended travel is bad. But…then there’s the issue of just being me. Of being the Archivist.” He’s quiet for a moment. “It’s a lot harder to resist using these abilities when I’m alone. When I don’t have you two there to—counterbalance me, I suppose. It’s like I’m constantly balancing on a tightrope, and I know I have to keep walking the line, I know it’s what I’m supposed to do, but…”

“But?” Tim prompts when Jon trails off and doesn’t continue.

“The rope is only a few inches off the ground,” Jon says in a low voice. “Or that’s what it looks like. When I, when I look to one side or the other…it doesn’t look like I have so far to fall. I could so easily step off and be on the ground, and it wouldn’t hurt at all. I don’t have to balance so carefully. There’s a voice just over my shoulder, whispering for me to step off, to save my feet, that there’s more to life than this narrow back and forth…”

A chill runs up Martin’s spine. He recognizes the description, actually. What they’re doing, the way they’re all trying to avoid overusing their abilities…it does feel a bit like walking a high wire. Martin keeps telling himself not to look down, to take it slow, to put one foot in front of the other, because he knows if he loses his concentration for even a second, he’ll fall. In his mind, there’s a platform at either end of the wire, and Tim stands at one end and Jon stands at the other, so no matter which way he turns, one of them is there, reaching for him, waiting for him when he’s done. He’s safe as long as he focuses on them.

Somehow, he doesn’t think that metaphor will help Jon.

“Are you sure, though?” he asks. “A-about…the rope not being so high.”

“No,” Jon whispers. “If I look at my feet…if I look straight down, I know how deep the chasm goes, so deep I can’t see the bottom. It’s just—it’s so tempting, Martin. I d-don’t want to put the burden of my humanity on the two of you. I need to be able to do it on my own. But it’s hard. It’s so much harder when I’m alone. And the worst of it is that there’s a part of me, a tiny voice, telling me that it’s just me, that I’m alone, that no one will ever know if I give in to temptation, just for a moment. Just to try.”

Tim huffs. “That tiny voice sounds an awful lot like Elias to me, boss.”

“I know. A-and I know I’d…I don’t want to let you down.”

Martin can’t really explain what those words mean to him, but from the way Tim leans into him, he feels the same way. He swallows around the sudden lump in his throat and tries to sound practical. “We’ll talk about it when you’re home. But it’s okay, Jon. I promise it’s okay. You’re—you’re stronger than Elias wants you to be.”

“It’s so much easier to believe these things when you say them.” Jon laughs softly, but there’s a genuine lightness to it—like some of the dark dread has lifted from his mind. “It’s—God, what time is it? Five o’clock? You’re not still at work, are you?”

“Time difference,” Tim reminds him. “It’s ten here.”

“For God’s sake, why didn’t you tell me? You both need sleep,” Jon scolds. “You have work in the morning.”

“Fine, but only if you promise to go get food,” Martin retorts. “Actual food. You’ve been asleep all day, you probably need it. Get some food and take it easy.”

“All right. All right. I think there’s a restaurant attached to the hotel.” Jon takes a deep breath. “I’ll call you when I’m on the bus.”

“You do that,” Tim says.

“Please be careful, Jon,” Martin says softly. “We can’t lose you.”

“I promise,” Jon says, his voice solemn. “Get some sleep. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Love you both.”

He ends the call before Martin can respond, or actually process what Jon’s just said. The stunned look on Tim’s face indicates he feels the same. For just a second, Martin lets himself hope…but no, that can’t be. And even if it is, it’s a conversation all three of them need to have, not just him and Tim. They can’t make decisions like that without getting Jon’s input.

“Come on,” he says instead, reaching for the charging cable to plug his phone in. “Jon’s right, we need sleep.”

“Yeah,” Tim says, sounding a bit dazed. “Sounds good.”

They crawl under the blankets and turn off the light. Tim rests his head on Martin’s shoulder, and Martin runs a hand through Tim’s hair without conscious thought. For a long time, there’s no sound but their breathing. Martin assumes Tim has fallen asleep, but as relieved as he is to have heard from Jon, his mind is buzzing too hard to actually let him rest.

Suddenly, Tim murmurs, “She’d seen us before.”

“Who?” Martin is instantly on the alert, wondering who he needs to be worried about, who might be set to hurt them.

“The woman at the parade. She’d seen us before, when we took Charlie to the fireworks. She was asking where Jon was.” Tim’s head shifts restlessly. “She thought Jon was Charlie’s bio-dad and…”

Martin nods slowly. “One of the zookeepers complimented me on my ‘lovely family.’ I—I think a lot of people just…assume we are one.”

“I’m not upset by that.” Tim’s voice is drowsy. It’s like this is the last thing he had to get out to keep him from sleeping.

“No,” Martin agrees. There’s another lump in his throat and he has to swallow around it before finishing. “Me, neither.”

And maybe that is what’s blocking him from sleeping, because the next thing he knows the alarm is going off and sunlight is poking through the gap in the curtains and Tim is still warm and safe in his arms, and they’re one day closer to having Jon home.

#ollie writes fanfic #leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall)#tma #the magnus archives #jonmartim

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smcc212 · 4 years

Text

Softer

(A sequel to “Painless”)

Pairings- Thomas Shelby x son, Shelby family x Shelby!reader(you get it)

Word count- 1,319

Warnings- Mostly fluff, Tommy being a cute dad, bullying, self-harm

A/N- So... a little bit ago I saw a post that inspired me to write “Painless”, and today I saw that @zerosinner (the person that made the post that inspired me) wanted more peaky blinders x kid reader, so I wrote this. Also, as the original post called for some fluff, this is fluffer. Hope you enjoy!

About a month had pasted since the incident between Liam and John’s feral army. Tommy was reluctant to trust anyone that went near Liam, as usual, but especially now. His heart still hurt whenever he thought about Liam letting people hurt him. He was glad, however, that he’d stopped, and that he had two really great friends.

As bad as it sounds, he didn’t like the kids when he first met them. He couldn’t help but worry that they could be the same as the kids that bullied his sweet boy. But they weren’t. It took Tommy far too long to realise, but he did.

Liam was outside playing with Ashley and Brendon, Tommy was watching them from his office window when three other kids showed up. Tommy had seen them before when he’d taken Liam to school. Knowing Liam said only Ashley and Brendon were nice to him at school, made Tommy head out to see what was happening.

“You’re just a freak!”

“Yeah, what are you? Some government experiment?”

“A failed one!”

Tommy felt anger flood his veins when he heard what the kids were saying. He was just about to step when-

“Hey! Leave him alone, you’re just jealous,” The girl, Ashley, said.

“Why would we be jealous of a freak, huh?” One of the other kids retorted.

“Because-“ The boy, Brendon, began. “-you know no matter who tries to fight him, he’ll always win. That’s why you call him names, ‘cause you know he’d kick all of your asses!” The three kids-arseholes, Tommy decided- looked between each other before fleeing. A smile tugged at Tommy face.

“You okay, Lee?” Ashley asked, placing her hands on Liam’s shoulders.

“Yeah, thanks guys.” Ashley and Brendon enveloped Liam in tight hug. Liam tried to hugged them both back. Tommy’s heart warmed as he looked at the three of them. It’s one thing to have lots of friends, most people can do that without a problem, but to have two friends that care so deeply for you? Only some people are lucky enough to have that.

Tommy’s thoughts were interrupted when he felt a small hand tugging on his trousers. He looked down to see the his boy.

“Yes, Liam?” Liam let go of his trousers.

“When’s dinner?”

“In-“ Tommy looked at his watch. “-Fifteen minutes, Why?”

“Ashley needs to go home, can I walk her?” The boy pleaded with his father through his eyes. “Please? I want to make sure she gets home safe.”

“How about this, we’ll both walk her home, eh?”

“Okay!” Liam run across the street to tell his friends, Tommy followed slowly after him.

They took the long way to Ashley’s house as it passed by Brendon’s. Liam and Ashley hugged the boy tightly before continuing on their way. Tommy was certain that nothing could make him happier today, but he was wrong.

Liam had a problem whenever he needed to rub his eyes, he couldn’t tell when he was putting to much pressure on them. When Tommy noticed Liam was rubbing his eyes too hard, he was, again, about the step in and, again, Ashley beat him to it. She gently grabbed his wrists and pulled them away from his face.

“You’re being too rough, Lee,” She spoke softly. Liam looked down at his feet, embarrassed. “It’s okay, Lee. Sometimes, when I’m drawing, I forget to take my pencil off the paper and end up ruining my drawing. Everyone does things like that.” When Liam looked up he a slight smile on his face. Ashley clearly didn’t think that it was a good enough smile, as she started making silly faces and didn’t stop until Liam was laughing uncontrollably. She beamed at her best friend, continuing to walk to her house.

Just as before, the two hugged and bid each other farewell. Tommy felt his heart warming even more as he heard Ashley warning Liam to “not do anything stupid” when she wasn’t there. After Liam agreed to her terms, Tommy and Liam headed home.

“You okay? I heard what those kids said.” Tommy spoke up after a few minutes.

“Yeah, I’m getting used to it,” Liam replied. That wasn’t the answer Tommy wanted to hear. He didn’t want his son “getting used” to people bullying him.

“Do you want me to talk to them?” He offered but Liam shook his head.

“Nah, it’s fine. Plus, Brendon’s right, if they do try to fight me or something, I’ll win.” Liam giggled.

“Liam, that’s not funny. If someone’s trying to fight you, you come to me, okay?” Liam nodded, biting his lip to try and stop laughing. “Good.”

“Oops...” Liam murmured, quietly.

“What did you do now, eh?” Tommy asked but didn’t stop walking. The way Liam sounded then, was the same as when he spilled a glass of water or something, so Tommy thought nothing of it.

“I bit my lip too hard.” Without thinking, Tommy picking the boy up, placing him on his hip so he could get to the house faster to deal with it. He gave Liam his handkerchief, telling him to put it on his lip, and hurried home.

“Where the bloody hell have you two been, eh?” Polly snapped. everyone else was sitting at the table, waiting for Tommy and Liam before they ate. “You were supposed to be here at-“

“Yeah, well, Liam wanted to walk his friends home, and now he’s bitten through his lip. So dinner is going to have to wait, okay?” Tommy snapped through gritted teeth.

“Bloody hell.” Polly took Liam out of Tommy’s arms so he could get the needle and thread ready, and placed him on the counter.

“How did you manage that, Lee loo?” Ada asked, trying to smile reassuringly at him, but it was hard when his lip was gushing of blood.

“I bit my lip too hard. I was trying to stop laughing,” He mumbled.

“You’ve got to be more carefully, little man,” John spoke up, ruffling his hair.

“Right, Liam, stay still. This won’t take long, okay?” Tommy said as he thread the needle he’d just sanitised.

“Okay, dad.” Tommy carefully took hold of Liam’s lip; he didn’t want to make the wound any worse than it already was. There was a slight upside to Liam not being able to feel pain. He couldn’t feel it when he needed stitches. Tommy carefully stitched his lip up. It always hurt when he had to do this.

As a baby Liam would bite his hands and mouth constantly. The doctor down the road was a close family friend as a result of being there all the time. It was hard enough seeing his boy needing stitches, but it was ten times harder when he did it himself. Tommy was positive it would never get easier, especially knowing the boy didn’t mean to do it.

“There. All stitched up. Just don’t bit your lip anytime soon, okay?” Tommy said, standing up and ruffling Liam’s hair.

“Okay, thank you, dad!” Liam beamed up at him.

“You’re welcome, Lee. Now, dinner.”

After dinner, Tommy gave Liam a bath before putting him to bed. After searching for Peter, a teddy of a horse that Polly got Liam for Christmas, Tommy tucking him in and started to leave.

But the soft “Dad?” That Liam murmured stopped him.

“Yeah, Lee?”

“Can you read me a story? A happy one?” Liam’s voice was strangely timid, but Tommy just nodded and grabbed Liam’s favourite book and started reading. No one would ever believe that Tommy Shelby sat and read stories, doing voices for all the characters to make his son laugh, but he did. Whenever his boy wanted him to.

As the story came to a close, Liam cuddled into Peter letting out an adorable yawn.

“Goodnight, Lee,” Tommy said softly, placing a kiss on his forehead.

“Night, dad, love you.”

“I love you too, my boy.”

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ghostiewriter · 3 years

Note

7 and 54 for jiara

This one is kinda cute too🥺not me falling in love with Parents!Jiara🤡

Word Count: 2.2K

Prompts: “You’ve gone to the bathroom fifty times today.” // “Why’s there a pregnancy test in the trash?”

It had hit Kiara like a truck. Out of nowhere. Boom. Right in her face.

She didn’t understand how it happened. Okay, well of course she did. She was twenty-two years old, she knew very well how babies were made. But her and JJ were generally quite safe. They were young and neither of them were in the place for children. They had so many adventures they wanted to go on, places to see, countries and cultures to explore. Starting a family wasn’t in their short-term future.

Except, now it was.

It took Kiara a couple of weeks before she began to pick up on the signs. At first it was waves of fatigue, just generally feeling quite dizzy or tired. But she just pegged that as low iron or the jetlag from all the journey back to the States after their latest trip to Australia. Then came the feelings of nausea throughout the day. Once again, Kiara brushed it off, just thinking she was stressed from all the apartment searching back home. She didn’t think much of it.

It wasn’t until Thanksgiving rocked about that she finally realised something was up. Kiara and JJ were half way into moving into their new apartment (it was small and on the cheaper side, but it wasn’t like they planned to stay there for more than a few weeks at a time). The symptoms were only getting worse, and Kiara was too wrapped up in moving boxes in and out of storage that it only hit her a couple of hours before her parents’ Thanksgiving dinner party that she was a few days late.

She didn’t tell JJ. She didn’t tell anyone. She just rushed out to the shops, grabbed the first pregnancy test she could find and quickly paid for it.

Those three minutes were the longest of her life. She just stared at it. Stared at the stick that sat on the bathroom countered as she waited for the alarm to go off. And when it did, Kiara found herself staring at two pink lines.

Positive. She was pregnant.

Having to act like she was not having an internal breakdown and coming up with an excuse not to drink was probably the hardest part of that night. She saw JJ giving her curious glances, ones of concern but she assured him that she was just not up for drinking with the jetlag. He seemed to buy it.

It was her grandmother who made her nervous. She kept giving Kiara these looks all night, ones that looked straight through her façade and into her soul. It was like she knew, like she had some sort of sixth sense or pregnancy radar. And Kiara’s suspicions were confirmed when her grandmother stopped her just before she left, both of them the only ones in the room, as placed her hand on her stomach and simply smiled before wishing her a goodnight.

Thanksgiving also convinced Kiara that her grandmother was some sort of psychic.

However, Kiara was grateful that her grandmother didn’t tell anyone. And neither did Kiara. She wanted to tell JJ, she just didn’t know how. Every night, right before they went to bed, she would glance over at the drawer she had been hiding the pregnancy test in and just think about all the different ways she could tell him the news.

She could just hand him it and let him figure it out. Maybe put it in a box. She could maybe even make one of those cheesy ‘you’re going to be a dad!’ shirts (but she quickly decided against this one). Because the truth was, Kiara didn’t know how he would react. It was no secret that JJ’s childhood was less than ideal, and his father was the cause of so many issues that JJ still fought and dealt with today. It had taken him so long to even get him to where he was now, where they had a healthy relationship with good communication and a trust within each other—and even that took JJ a while to really grasp onto after years of flings and one-night-stands and bottling everything up.

But was he ready to be a father? To start a family? Was she?

She kept the secret bottled up for days, keeping it to herself. JJ noticed pretty quickly that something was up. She was zoning out more than usual, a lot more skittish as well. She was keeping something from him, he wasn’t that oblivious that he didn’t realise that. But he also respected Kiara enough to take a step back and give her space to work everything out. She would tell him when she was ready, he knew that. So, he stepped back and let her breathe.

She did appreciate it, she truly did. But it was one of the situations where she wished he was a little more pushy, that he would prod and question her so she could just blurt it out and get it off her chest. But JJ was too good for that. He just gave her comforting smiles and pressed a kiss to her forehead as if to say ‘I’m here whenever you need me’. God, it made her want to cry just at the thought of it.

She lasted a week after Thanksgiving before she came to the conclusion that she would explode if she didn’t tell JJ soon. He deserved to know, and this wasn’t something she had to face alone.

But still those doubts of his reaction lived in her mind, kept her up at night. So, she took the easy way out. They were still in the process of moving boxes in and out of the apartment, unpacking everything and making the place feel a bit more theirs. It was the perfect predicament. So, Kiara took the pregnancy test and placed it strategically in the bathroom where she was sure JJ would stumble upon it. And then she waited for him to find it.

She had hidden it that morning when she woke up earlier than him to find the perfect spot. It was now just after lunch, and JJ had still not seen the test. She was beginning to get angsty, and slightly worried for his eyesight. She made a mental note to book him an eye test later at the opticians.

Kiara had even gone to the extent of constantly checking the bathroom, making sure the test was still there and it hadn’t been moved. Maybe he had seen it and freaked out and decided to stay silent. But every time she entered the bathroom, it was sitting right where she left it.

This was supposed to be the easy solution and JJ had singlehandedly made it far more complex than it was meant to be.

JJ, however, was more concerned for his girlfriend’s bladder. Throughout their day of oh-so fun unpacking and decorating, he noticed the obscene number of times Kiara visited the bathroom. It was getting to the point where he was sure she had a UTI. He made a mental note to pick up some cranberry juice from the store later. But he didn’t understand why she didn’t say anything, that is if her UTI was the thing that had been stressing her out the last few days.

“Hey, you good?” He eventually asked as she stood on the other side of the living room, unpacking some books onto the shelves along the wall.

She froze for a few seconds before she turned to him, an easy smile on her face. “Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

He frowned a little. “No reason, it’s just—” He paused for a moment. “You’ve gone to the bathroom fifty times today. I thought maybe…you like…had an issue.”

Her eyebrows furrowed together, not quite understanding what he was insinuating. “Nope. Perfectly fine. Just your usual Kie.” She said with a small, tense smile on her lips. He only nodded his head but he couldn’t brush off the fact she was still acting odd.

Odder than she had been acting the past week.

When dinner had come around, they had decided to order something from outside since both of them were far too tired to even bother cooking. However, Kie had been on edge since their conversation earlier that day. Her heart stopped in that moment, she thought he had finally noticed. But he was as oblivious as always. So, Kiara was forced to step it up a notch.

When their food had arrived, Kie had taken the liberty of making JJ open the fortune cookies before they started. He didn’t think anything of it, just shrugging and opening his one.

“Enter unknown territory.” He read aloud before letting out a small chuckle. “Oh, how insightful.”

She gave him a pathetic smile in response before she opened hers, reading the words over a few times before she said them out loud. “To be found, stop hiding.”

“Who even writes these?” He muttered as he glanced down at the slip of paper in his hand. “Why not put useful messages on them. Like ‘don’t eat yellow snow’ or ‘never eat random berries you find in the woods’. Now those are insightful and useful.”

She rolled her eyes. “They are meant to be vague, Jay. Not things that are meant to just be common sense.”

“Hey, that yellow snow could’ve been lemon-flavoured.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it.”

“Tomayto, tomahto!”

The blond soon forgot about the fortune cookies as he reached over to open the containers and dig into the food. However, Kiara quickly slapped his hand away. He looked at her with a confused frown.

“You have to push the rubbish in the pin.” She said, pointing towards their abandoned fortune cookies.

“Uh, why? We can do it later—”

“No! You have to do it now. Like right now.” She pressed on, lips pressed together as she simply stared at him.

“Oh-kay.” He murmured as he stood up, picking up the trash before heading towards the kitchen before she spoke up again.

“NO! The bathroom bin. The kitchen one is full.”

He frowned. “But I just—”

“Nope!”

“Alright, geez! I’ll use the bathroom bin.” He muttered, shaking his head before heading down the hall instead.

Kiara waited. Waited and waited and waited. She sat there, fiddling with her fingers as she glared at the hallway he had just walked down. He would’ve seen it by now, she knew that. But she was only greeted with silence. Deafening silence that was just making her even more anxious than she was before.

“Kiara.” She heard his footsteps approaching. “Why’s there a pregnancy test in the trash?”

She looked up, seeing JJ standing there with the test in his hands and tears welling up in his eyes. Even his voice as he spoke was quiet, soft, hopeful.

“Surprise.” She whispered, nervously nibbling her lower lip.

She was waiting. Waiting for him to explode or start freaking. To start rambling away about how they are too young and that they aren’t ready. She was waiting for him to completely deny or even fathom the idea of them starting a family.

But he didn’t do that.

Instead, he shuffled towards her before falling to his knees in front of her. He softly placed a hand on her stomach before looking up at her with a soft smile, tears streaming down his face.

“I’m going to be a father?” She nodded. “Holy shit, I’m going to be a dad.” A few seconds passed as though he was letting that information properly set in when suddenly he was lifting Kie up and spinning her around.

“JJ!” She shrieked, but there was a smile on her face. He finally set her down, hands coming to cup her cheeks as he wiped away her escaped tears.

“We’re going to be parents.” He murmured with a huge grin on his face.

“Yeah, we are.” She replied, hands resting on his wrists.

“How long have you known?”

“Since Thanksgiving.”

“And you waited until now to tell me?”

She gave him a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to tell you and I didn’t think you’d react so…happily, I don’t know.” She whispered, feeling a bit guilty for how long she had kept it from him.

“Oh no, I’m scared shitless.” He admitted. “But…I’ve got you so I know everything is going to be okay.”

Her expression softened before she wasted no time in pulling his face down to hers and finally kissing him. “We’re going to be parents.” She whispered against his lips.

“Hell yeah we are.” He whispered back with a grin, pressing a few chaste kisses on her lips before their rumbling stomachs finally broke them out of the trance they were in.

Soon after dinner, they had found themselves sprawled on the couch as some shitty reruns played on the TV in front of them. JJ’s hands had barely left her stomach, not that she minded too much, his fingers tracing small shapes and words on her skin. She smiled when she felt him trace ‘dad loves you’.

“I can’t wait to meet this little guy.” JJ murmured, his faze nuzzled against her neck.

She lightly elbowed him. “It could be a girl.”

“No way, definitely a boy.” JJ argued.

“You don’t know that.” She scoffed.

“Of course I can,” He looked down at her with a grin on his face. “Sixth sense.”

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

There was a few moments of silence before he eventually spoke up.

“What do you think about an army of J named kids?”

“You have enough Js for the family.”

“Wow, harsh.”

#jiara #outer banks #obx #jiara prompts #writing prompts #my writing

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recurring-polynya · 4 years

Note

Do we have a Byakuya giving Renji marriage advice fic? I'd love to read one!

I know this is gonna seem like I can’t read the prompt, because it’s 95% Byakuya giving Rukia marriage advice, but I just honestly think Byakuya trusts Renji on this, given that Renji has worked for him for years at this point and just sort of anticipates all his needs and understands him better than really anyone, and also, Byakuya does not understand Renji at all and has no idea how his dumb jock brain works. He knows exactly how Rukia’s brain works, though.

Anyway, I am back on my Byakuya-writing-letters bullshit, please enjoy some Sunday afternoon feels. I think it should be obvious, but this takes place the night after Rukia and Renji’s wedding.

❤️ 🥂 🎊

It was late at night, but Rukia couldn’t sleep. Too much excitement, maybe, the unfamiliarity of a new house, the evening’s pleasant alcoholic haze fading into the beginnings of a hangover. It certainly couldn’t be the idea of a new life entirely, looming in front of her like an iceberg, complete with a new name and all sorts of new possibilities. Primarily, there was a new bed and a new person who slept in it with her, and she found the idea of waking him up terrifying, so she slipped out from under the blankets and crept downstairs.

She was digging around in the kitchen, wondering if Renji had gotten around to making any pickles since he moved in a month ago (there was an entire cabinet full, wonderful man!), when she remembered the note.

Rukia had briefly flipped through the envelopes of wedding money they had received earlier. The one from her brother bulged, and when she opened it up, the bills inside were large. Renji got nervous in the presence of large sums of money and she suspected he would attempt to give it back, so put it away quickly to deal with later, but not before she noticed a sheet of paper tucked inside among the bills. It had only her name on it, in her brother’s finest handwriting.

After retrieving the note, she settled on the couch (which had been Renji’s but was now theirs because that’s how this worked) with the jar of pickles tucked beside her (the pickles were hers because they were the spicy kind Renji made specially for her even though he couldn’t eat them himself).

My beloved sister, the note opened.

It is my impression that one of the important roles of an older brother is to go before one’s younger siblings, to chart the unknown terrain of life, and to act as guide and mentor. My own marriage was characterized by deep love and joy in the face of hardship, and I hope that yours will contain all of its happiness and none of its heartache. Unfortunately, I regret to inform you, I have no idea how I did it.

When our lots were first cast together, as you know, I declined to form a close relationship with you. This was a mistake on my part, born of the fear that you would remind me too much of Hisana. Later on, to my horror, I found the truth to be far worse-- although you do share some of your sister’s fine qualities, in personality, you bear a much greater resemblance to myself.

That being the case, I imagine that by the time you find this note, you will have tied yourself up into knots over whether or not you ‘deserve this’ or if you can ever be a satisfactory partner. We are very fine Kuchiki, you and I, Rukia. We are strong of body and of will. We are dignified in all we do. We devote ourselves to our duties before our else. Our hearts are strong and love strongly, but we hold them close, as we must. Our family is our pride, which, paradoxically, makes it nearly impossible to share ourselves with those we hold closest.

Your sister Hisana was an exceedingly stubborn person, who formed her own opinions of me, which may or may not have had any grounding in reality. She frequently told me that I was ‘kind’ and ‘thoughtful’ and ‘sweet’ and a variety of other adjectives that no other thinking person would dare to apply to me. It is very difficult to live with such a person for long before you find yourself trying to live up to their misguided delusions.

As it happens, this is among the distressing number of personality traits my adjutant shares with my late wife. His optimism is endless, his vision is permanently rose-tinted, even when he insists upon wearing those horrendous goggles. Any yet, time and again, I have seen him bring out the best qualities in the horrible ne’er-do-wells under our mutual command. Indeed, if I have ever been a good brother to you, it is mostly due to his belief that I could be so. It is a verifiable fact that you are one of the best best souls in all of Soul Society, one would think it would be unimaginable to inflate your worth beyond its actual measure, and yet, somewhere, he manages that, as well.

How is one supposed to live up to these sorts of expectations from the person they love most of all? It is impossible. At least in my case, Hisana was quite aware that I am a pompous buffoon, whereas Abarai fully believes the sun rises and sets for your personal benefit. I am going to tell you something that may be difficult to hear: you have to simply deal with it. He is never going to stop. If you are truly as like to me as I suspect, you will rebel against this, your brain constantly trying to sabotage your happiness.

The fact of the matter is, Rukia, these feelings of inadequacy spring from the very fact that you hold him so dearly that your own estimation of him is also blown out of proportion. Do not misinterpret me. I am very fond of Abarai, but he is a mess. A disaster. You have probably never seen his filing system, but it would give you the vapors. (I do suggest that you take responsibility over that aspect of your household management.) Again, I sympathize. He is actually not nearly so bad as your sister, whom I once watched deface a centerpiece at a very fancy benefit dinner (the end result was extremely offensive and also very humorous). In my mind, she is still the most perfect person I have ever met.

Perhaps I am mistaken. Perhaps you are plagued with none of the insecurities that troubled the early days of my marriage, and that I was only able to come to terms with once it became evident that our time together would be finite. I desperately hope this is the case, and if so, please do me the courtesy of destroying this letter, and forgetting all of this.

In either case, I wish you the utmost happiness with your horrible husband.

Your affectionate brother,

Byakuya

Rukia’s fingers clenched on the edges of the paper. The edges of her eyes were burning. How dare he do this to her, after all these years? How many times had they crossed paths in the gardens in the hours when they should have been sleeping? Since when did they need to say things in order to show how well they understood each other? Rukia had half a mind to march over there right now and punch him in his perfect face. He was most likely sitting out next to the koi pond this very minute.

“Thinkin’ of skippin’ out on me already?” a sleepy voice asked behind her, and Rukia jumped nearly a foot in the air.

“What? No!” Rukia rubbed at her hair and frowned apologetically at Renji, who seemed more interested in yawning. "I was thinking too loud and I didn’t want to wake you up.”

“Nah, my skull is too thick, I can’t even hear my own thoughts most of the time.” Renji leaned over the back of the couch, and Rukia guiltily folded her note in half. “Letter from Captain?”

“Uh, yeah,” Rukia excused. “Sorry. It was kinda personal.”

“I understand. I got one, too. It was less personal.”

A piece of paper dropped in her lap and as she was busy unfolded it, Renji grabbed her jar of pickles.

“Hey, that’s mine!” she protested.

“You don’t gotta tell me what your brother wrote to you,” Renji yawned, tucking the pickles under his arm. “But I think you should probably listen to him. He knows what’s he’s on about.”

Rukia looked at the piece of Squad Six letterhead in her hands. In precise, businesslike handwriting, it read:

To: Abarai Renji, Assistant Captain, Sixth Division

From: Kuchiki Byakuya, Captain Sixth Division

Re: My sister/Your pending wife

Lieutenant Abarai,

Please be aware that Rukia is prone to poor decisions when she has insomnia and it is in your best interest to prevent her from consuming excessively spicy and/or vinegared goods past a respectable bedtime.

Sincerely,

Captain Kuchiki

“Rat fink!” Rukia exclaimed.

“Come back to bed,” Renji implored, pressing a kiss into her hair. “I know some good ways to make your brain shut up.”

“Okay,” Rukia agreed grumpily. “I’m eating those pickles for breakfast, though.”

“I’m makin’ pancakes, but suit yourself.”

Rukia decided that maybe it was best to try and get some rest. She had a big rest-of-her-life coming up the next day.

#my writing #byakuya kuchiki #rukia kuchiki #renji abarai #renruki #byakuya feels are the worst feels #but pining-for-his-dead-wife byakuya is the best byakuya #the paradox of byakuya

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let-the-dream-begin · 4 years

Text

In My Daughter’s Eyes Chapter 4: The Past Can Hurt

Chapter 3

Read on AO3

Claire peeked at the rear view mirror again, and smiled again at the sight of her happy daughter. Faith's favorite "reward meal" was McDonald's. Claire had pinky-promised that if she was a good girl with the horses today, they would get McDonald's for dinner on the way home. She was contentedly waving around the Minion toy that had come in the happy meal, humming and kicking her little legs. Claire had both of their meals on the passenger seat, knowing full well that her daughter would make quite the mess if she let her eat in the car. So would Claire, to be frank.

Claire had made it abundantly clear how proud she was of Faith, had reminded her several times already how she'd been such a good girl. Whether this made Faith happy to hear, or she was simply still in the afterglow of petting a horse, was anyone's guess. Claire hoped Faith could see, could truly understand how happy her mother was. She supposed if she said it enough it might sink in, if it hadn't already.

Back at home, the moment Claire unbuckled Faith from her carseat, she insisted on carrying her meal in herself, to which Claire was more than happy to oblige. She watched, amused, as Faith scampered up the steps to their front door, waiting rather impatiently for her mother to catch up. This was something that Faith had done whenever they'd arrived at their home in Oxfordshire: squirm out of Claire's grip and bolt to the porch, rocking on her heels or bouncing while she waited for the door to open. As Claire pushed the key into the lock, her heart felt a little lighter.

She already feels like this is her home.

Faith immediately scampered inside and right to the kitchen, and by the time Claire got the door shut, stuffed horse onto the couch, and shoes off, Faith was already halfway through her chicken nuggets, sitting up on her knees at the kitchen table. Claire shook her head, laughing.

"You are certainly in a good mood, aren't you, darling?" She ruffled her curly hair and sat down across from her, opening her own paper bag, pulling out her burger and french fries. The teenager at the drive-thru had been quite bewildered when she'd asked for crisps. Such strange lingo these Americans used.

Faith was finished eating before Claire was even halfway through her burger, and she slid off her chair and reached for the chocolate shake that Claire put on the counter to be out of her reach until she finished. Claire sprung out of her seat to grab it herself before Faith could cause it to topple and make a mess.

"Let Mummy help, Faith," Claire said, frantically. "You have to ask for help..." Claire sighed in defeat, handing over the milkshake. She sat back down as Faith settled in again, knowing better than to leave the kitchen with food of any kind. Claire watched her little cheeks hollow out as she guzzled down the liquid, her honey eyes light with joy.

Faith's being nonverbal was not as much of an issue as it could have been, but it was an issue nonetheless. The worst of it was when she was clearly distraught and could not communicate the source of her distress. Had she made a mess of her chocolate shake due to her inability to ask for help, it would have been quite the inconvenience, but Claire supposed mealtime could have gone much worse. Claire knew her daughter by now, better than Claire even knew herself. She'd become accustomed to the various grunts and whines, associating meaning to each different sound over the years. She supposed, however, that this would not be a sufficient way to communicate to a teacher someday, or Mrs. Lickett when Claire was no longer able to stay home with them.

Claire's anxiety lessened a bit at the thought of the woman; Mrs. Lickett was certified to teach American Sign Language to nonverbal autistic children, and she promised Claire she'd have Faith doing basic signs by the time she was ready to start school, whenever that may be.

Then she remembered how close they'd come to a meltdown in the stable, and how easily Jamie had calmed her, how proud he'd been to introduce the horse to her as a reward, how happy it had made Faith. Claire's heart swelled for perhaps the hundredth time since they'd left. The sound of slurping filled the room as Faith reached the end of her milkshake.

"All done, lovie?" Faith took her mouth off the straw and smiled contentedly at her mother. "Clean up now, Faith. Garbage in the bin, please."

Faith did as she was told, and then Claire beckoned her into her lap.

"Come here, darling," she crooned, enveloping her in her arms. "Mummy is so very proud of you, baby. I'll never stop saying it." She kissed her cheek, and Faith giggled. "Are you happy, Faith? Hm?" She rocked her gently, but Faith just hummed and traced patterns on Claire's arms with her fingertips.

"Happy, Faith?" Claire said again, remembering the thumbs-up maneuver from earlier, and employing it now. "Are you happy, love?"

Faith giggled again and grabbed Claire's thumb in her little hand.

"Faith, no..." Claire couldn't help but chuckle, as well. "See? Thumbs-up if you're happy, Faith. Happy?" She tried again with her free thumb.

Faith giggled yet again, but this time, she returned the gesture. Claire laughed out loud and brought the little fist, still holding her thumb, to her lips to cover with kisses.

"I'm happy, too, baby girl," Claire said. "Very happy."

She gave another little giggle before squirming out of Claire's arms and pattering out of the kitchen. Claire cleaned up after herself and returned to the table to continue nursing her own milkshake. Faith bounded back in with a DVD box in hand and held it expectantly up to Claire. Claire smiled and took it in her hands.

"Ah, all about animals today, hm?" She cocked an eyebrow at Faith. Tonight's choice was The Lion King. This was typical, even back in Oxfordshire. Faith would toddle up to either Claire or Frank with a DVD after dinner and expect help to get it ready, so she could watch her movie before bed. More often than not, Frank would wordlessly hand the box over to Claire instead, and after a while Faith learned to only bring it to Claire.

Claire put the DVD in as Faith went into her room, returning with her baby Simba stuffed animal to watch with. She settled onto the couch, now righted to its position in the middle of the room, centered and straightened. There were still boxes and messes, but things were slowly coming together. Claire took this opportunity while Faith was glued to the telly to get to some more boxes. She peeled the tape off a particularly heavy box, and smiled to herself at the sight of the picture frames inside, covered in bubble wrap. She moved behind the couch to the long table pushed against it, exactly where she'd planned to put said pictures. She unwrapped them all lovingly and arranged them on the table: an infant Faith fast asleep like a little angel on Claire's shoulder; Faith in the photo studio with a large, plastic number "1" for her first birthday; Claire holding Faith on a carousel, smiling like a fool at her toddler aged daughter; Faith, two-and-a-half, grabbing at Frank's cheeks and laughing her head off.

Christ.

Claire froze, a hard lump forming in her throat as the opening chords to "Circle of Life" filled her ears. What was she supposed to do with this? Why had she even packed it? Well, that was easy enough: Faith looked simply darling. But...

She ran trembling fingers over both of their faces behind the glass, sighing with a shudder.

Oh, Frank...How happy we once were.

Indecisive, Claire put the frame back in the box, reaching for another to unwrap: Faith mid-bite of a chocolate-chip pancake at the breakfast table. The older she got, the less complacent she'd been for photo opportunities, so Claire had to content herself with capturing candid, silly moments like this, and she honestly would not have had it any other way. She stood it up next to the carousel shot and reached for another.

God damn it.

Claire holding Faith at the church the day of her christening, Frank's arm wrapped around Claire's shoulders, smiling proudly.

Fuck you.

Claire pressed the frame face-down into the table, biting her bottom lip to stifle a sob. How dare he stand there, looking so proud of the family that he would so quickly discard? How dare he let that little girl touch his face like that, how dare he smile at her so brightly, lead her to believe he'd always be there?

Her fingers trembled as they hovered over the keypad of numbers. Was it worth it? Couldn't she just put Faith on the plane and change her number, disappear forever?

She supposed that might not exactly be legal, no matter the terms on which Frank had left the house two weeks ago.

She somehow found the nerve to finish dialing the number and bring the phone to her ear.

"Hello?"

She gulped. "Hello, Frank."

"Hello, Claire."

She cleared her throat. "I'm...I'm taking Faith to the states. And I don't think you have any right to try and stop me."

"I shouldn't think I do."

She shuddered with hatred at his indifference; though she'd expected as much, it didn't sting any less. "Alright. Good. I don't want anything from you, Frank. I am perfectly capable of taking care of her basic needs on my residency salary."

"Alright."

"But there's one thing. It's the least you can do. For the love you once bore me."

"I did not stop loving you, Claire."

"Oh, yes, you did," Claire spat.

“Claire — ”

“No, that’s enough,” she said, firmly. “Listen. I want nothing from you but the exact amount a certain therapy will cost. It’s expensive, but the doctor thinks it can really help Faith. I’m asking nothing else of you, Frank. Just around six thousand a year, broken up monthly, to pay for the therapy.”

Claire knew she likely could afford the therapy, but things would be tight. Rent on Long Island was not cheap by any means; neither was the general cost of living there, and neither was the kind of babysitter with the qualifications necessary for taking care of someone with Faith’s needs. Not to mention she wanted to start setting money aside for a service dog, which would be an enormous investment in and of itself, but one that would certainly be worth it if it would make it easier for them to be in public places. The extra money from Frank would be worth it, no matter how sick to her stomach it made her to ask it of him.

“What sort of therapy costs that much?”

“Equine therapy.”

He scoffed. “You really believe — ”

“Yes. I do.” She had to clench her teeth and take a very deep breath through her nose to stop herself from attacking again. “Will you pay for it or not? As the man who sired her, who owes her something? Will you?”

A slight pause, then he sighed. “Fine. I don’t care how much it is, I just don’t want to deal with it.”

Claire almost choked on the expletives she swallowed. “I understand. I’ve already set aside a separate bank account for you to make deposits.” She read him the account number and the routing number, along with exact amounts needed each month.

“All you need to do is make the deposits every month. And you’ll never hear from us again.”

He sighed again. “Claire…If I could change things…”

Claire almost fell for it…but she knew what he meant.

He did not mean: “If I could change my behavior, the things I said.” He meant: “If I could change what our daughter is.”

And it made her sick.

“Goodbye, Frank.”

Faith’s humming and rocking brought Claire back to Earth. She looked up from the box to see Faith holding her stuffed Simba in the air, mirroring Rafiki on the screen doing just that. Claire chuckled to herself and swallowed any remaining urge to cry. Claire put the christening picture back in the box, deciding that she’d make a decision on what to do with it later. Perhaps she could try her hand at scissors, combine the two pictures in one frame. It would certainly be satisfying to literally cut him out of those moments in Faith’s life.

But on the other hand…was that cruel? Would Faith someday learn to verbally or otherwise communicate the question: Where did Daddy go? Should she keep these pictures intact for that purpose? What Claire would want to say in response to such a question would be that Faith did not have a Daddy and that she didn’t need one. But perhaps that was doing her an injustice.

Claire reached for another picture.

Yes…that was something that could wait to be decided on.

Claire had made a considerable dent in her unpacking venture by the time Faith’s movie finished, and she was altogether quite satisfied with her work.

“What do you think of that, Faith?” Claire sighed contentedly as she removed the DVD from the player and put it back in the box. “Your disorganized-as-all-get-out Mummy is actually getting somewhere with her organizing.” Faith slid off the couch to take the box from her so she could put it back where she found it. “Isn’t that a marvel?”

Claire watched with piqued interest as Faith sat on her knees in front of the little entertainment center, the cupboard beneath the telly opened for her inspection. Faith had a system, some sort of arrangement of her movies that she always abided by. Not a single movie was ever out of place. Claire could not for the life of her decipherer what the system was; it was something created and used only by Faith. Claire had unpacked all their movies and put them inside, only for Faith to gut the entire thing and arrange them herself. It had greatly amused Claire at the time. She’d been at it for hours.

It didn’t take long for her to return The Lion King to its apparent correct position, and then Faith shut the cupboard.

“Alright, lovie. Time to brush your teeth.”

Claire stood and led Faith into the bathroom. Claire lifted her up onto the counter to sit and Claire got to work brushing her own teeth first. Faith had not yet mastered the coordination of tooth-brushing, and Claire still did it for her every night. But her psychiatrist had said that if Faith watched her mother do it enough times, something might strike a chord one day, and she’d suddenly be an expert at dental hygiene. Apparently, Doctor Garner had seen this happen plenty of times before.

So Claire brushed, tilting her head slightly toward Faith as usual, and then moving on to brush Faith’s teeth. When she finished, Claire handed her one of the little paper cups they kept in the bathroom.

"Rinse and spit," she crooned, as she did every night.

Routine was everything to Faith, and Claire had even begun clinging to the lifeline that was knowing every next move for every day. It soothed Faith's ever present anxiety and gave her expectations for every day, and it kept Claire grounded in the reality of their lives. This was why she'd been so scared to move. Moving to the house next door to them in Oxfordshire would have been a big enough change to merit Faith's discomfort, let alone moving across an ocean to a completely different style of living. There'd certainly been an adjustment period for her routine-conditioned little girl, but it hadn't been nearly as long or as difficult as Claire had anticipated.

Doctor Garner had suggested that no matter how disorienting things were when they'd arrived at the new apartment, the sooner Claire could reestablish that same routine that Faith had been accustomed to in Oxfordshire, the better. It was the reason she'd had furniture sent to the apartment before they'd even arrived. The sooner Faith could associate the new home with the commonplace furniture, the sooner she'd begin to realize this was home now. And all that, combined with maintaining their old routines in a new place was actually working quite well.

Teeth brushed and pajamas on, Claire tucked Faith into her bed. Faith's brand new princess comforter had arrived on Wednesday, and Faith was over the moon. Claire hadn't yet had a problem getting her to sleep since they'd put it on the bed. Claire filled the medicine dropper from the liquid Risperdal bottle, and Faith dutifully opened her mouth to let Claire drop it in, her face screwing up in the usual disgust to taste the bitter liquid.

"Swallow, please," Claire said, cocking an eyebrow. Faith grimaced, but obeyed. "Good girl."

Claire knew full well that Faith hated the taste of her medicine; it had been an utter nightmare to get her to take it every night at first. She'd had to bribe her with a Smartie every time she took it. Claire had a little stash of M&Ms (apparently the American equivalent) just in case Faith was ever particularly stubborn.

Claire set the medicine aside on the nightstand and tucked Horsie (who had been properly cleaned and disinfected after being dropped in the dirt in the stable) under her arm.

"There's Horsie, darling. So you can dream of all the horses you saw today, like Pippi." She leaned down and kissed her forehead. "Goodnight, love. Today was a very, very good day."

Faith smiled a toothy grin as Claire rose to turn on the nightlight. She stopped at the door to flicker off the main light and take one last look at her daughter, savoring the contentment settling in her chest and warming her from the inside out before shutting the door.

——

The next few days were not as smooth sailing.

Jamie had been quite right when he’d predicted the riding helmet would bother Faith. Since Mrs. Lickett only came by on weekdays, Claire decided it was as good a time as ever to give the helmet a try. After breakfast, Claire sat Faith on the couch and retrieved the helmet and Horsie.

“Alright, little girl.” She sat down, horse and helmet in hand. “Mister Jamie gave us this helmet. See?” She held it up to Faith. “Mister Jamie said you can’t ride Pippi unless you learn to wear the helmet.” She held both the horse and the helmet in front of Faith. “See? Horsie and helmet have to go together. Yes?”

Faith hummed happily and reached for Horsie.

“Alright…let’s see…” Claire carefully attempted to lower the helmet onto Faith’s head, but her face immediately darkened and she groaned in annoyance, averting her head.

“It’s okay, baby, it’s just a little hat. Come on, now…”

She groaned again, louder, shoving the helmet away with both of her hands.

“Wait,” Claire said quickly. “Wait here, Faith.”

Claire scrambled into her bedroom and into her closet, tearing through its contents, throwing things behind her until she found what she was looking for. A plain blue visor that she hadn’t worn in years, but kept around just in case.

“Here, Faith, look.” Claire returned to the couch and sat down. She put the visor on her own head. “See? A hat.” Faith stared at her blankly. Claire smiled and took off the visor, plopping it onto Faith’s curly head. “See?”

Faith giggled, and Claire felt a renewed sense of hope. She took the helmet back in her hands and placed it precariously atop her head. “See? It’s just a hat. It doesn’t fit Mummy’s big head, though. It was made just for you.”

Claire playfully swiped the visor off Faith's head and replaced it with the helmet, and she did not squirm away.

Claire gasped with contrived shock. "Look at you!" she gushed. Faith was beaming. "What a lovely hat, Faith!"

She hummed and bounced, and Claire laughed.

Victory!

And that was when she made her fatal mistake. She got cocky.

"Now let's just fasten it, and then you're properly wearing your new hat, yes?" Claire reached for the chin strap and fastened it. "There! All ready to ride!"

Faith's entire demeanor changed, her little brow furrowing. She reached for the chinstrap and tucked her fingers underneath, starting to tug.

"It's okay, darling."

Faith began groaning.

"Hey, it's okay, Faith." Claire, having prepared for exactly this, reached for the yellow stress ball from the stables on the coffee table. "Faith, here, love. It's okay." She put the ball in one of her hands, but Faith did not latch on. She let it fall to the ground, not removing her fingers from beneath the chin strap. Dread settled into the pit of her stomach.

“Faith…” Claire stooped down to retrieve the ball, then realized it had rolled halfway across the room. She got up from the couch to pick it up, and when she turned around, Faith was tugging forcefully on the helmet, the chin strap digging into her throat.

“Faith!” Claire dropped the ball again and practically leapt back onto the couch. “Stop!”

Fingers trembling, Claire frantically fumbled with the clasp of the chin strap, desperately trying to stop her daughter from choking herself. The second she was free, Faith gave a loud wail and hurled the helmet across the room, causing Claire to jump back in shock.

Claire was too stunned to scold her right away, her medical degree kicking into full gear as she examined her neck and throat for any marks, listened to see if her breathing was normal. Once she was certain everything was alright, Claire firmly seized one of her wrists.

“We do not throw things, Faith.” Faith began squirming, pawing at her mother’s hand. “Faith, look at me, please. I need you to look at my eyes, Faith.”

She gave a loud wail and a particularly hard yank.

“We do not throw things. Do you hear me, young lady?”

A sharp pain suddenly stuck itself into Claire’s hand, and she cried out. She immediately released Faith’s wrist and recoiled her hand into herself.

She bloody bit me.

Faith wriggled off the couch and bolted for the front door. She started tugging on the handle, determined to open the door and get as far away as her little legs would carry. Claire knew she’d really do it, too, if the door wasn’t locked.

Claire briefly sucked at the blood that started slowly trickling from her hand and then strode to the front door.

“You’re not going anywhere, little girl.” She scooped Faith around the torso with one arm and carried her, kicking and screaming into her bedroom to deposit her on the bed.

“Listen to me, Faith. If you do not calm down this instant you’ll not have any dessert tonight. Do you hear me?”

Faith shrieked. She’d certainly heard.

“I’m going to count to ten! If I get to ten and you’ve not stopped crying, no dessert.”

Claire hadn’t even gotten to three when Faith started throwing her stuffed animals in her direction. Claire continued counting calmly, knowing full well that the cotton toys would not hurt her. It was only when she reached for the lamp on her nightstand that she stopped at seven, lurching forward to stop her.

“No!” Claire shouted. Faith immediately released the lamp and clamped her hands over her ears, and a horrible, searing guilt burned her gut.

“Faith, baby, I’m sorry…I’m sorry, darling…” Claire sat down on the bed beside her and made to wrap her arms around her daughter, but she hesitated. Would she bite again, or punch, or kick?

Claire felt shameful tears stinging her eyes. Was she no better than Frank, raising her voice at her audio-sensitive daughter when she was being slightly difficult?

She shouldn’t have fastened the chin strap. She should have just let her get used to the helmet itself first. She maybe should have even waited for Mrs. Lickett to try the chinstrap. And now, because of her carelessness, she’d triggered her daughter’s biggest anxiety, and the poor girl was screaming her little head off, red in the face, because of her own mother.

Claire noticed, almost too late, that her hand was about to bleed on Faith’s brand new comforter. She hissed a frustrated “fuck” under her breath and quickly made her way to the bathroom to tend to it. She hastily wrapped some gauze around it and made her way back into Faith’s room to find her in the exact same position, hands on her ears, screaming. Claire sighed in defeat and quickly wiped her eyes clear of the tears that threatened to spill over. Perhaps it would be best if she just left her for now. There was no telling if she’d do something violent again if Claire tried to comfort her, and there was no consoling her otherwise. Claire decided to remove the lamp and anything else heavy that she could throw before leaving the room and shutting the door behind her.

Only when the door was shut did Claire finally allow herself to cry.

She didn’t care that Faith could have broken a lamp and shattered a lightbulb on the new wood floors; she didn’t even care that her own daughter had drawn blood from her with her teeth. What hurt worse than that was knowing that her little girl was in turmoil because of triggers that her own mother couldn’t understand, couldn’t make better, things that Faith was not able to communicate to her or to anyone. And to make matters worse, she couldn’t even comfort her. When she was a baby, before she was symptomatic, all Claire had to do was scoop her out of her crib and rock her, bounce her, sing to her, and all her anxieties would cease, her crying would stop. But now, the older Faith got, it felt like Claire was less and less capable of providing that comfort, that sense of security.

I’m her mother. That’s my job.

And I’m failing.

Claire dumped the contents of Faith’s room that she’d emptied onto the couch and collapsed next to them, letting her tears fall freely. Somewhere in her fevered brain, she had the sense to pick up her phone from the coffee table and text Gillian. She typed: “Hey, could I call you right now?” then quickly backspaced and tried again: “Hey, are you busy right now?” She hit send, and then frantically added in a second message: “No emergency. Just miss you and want to hear your voice.”

After she hit send the second time, she let her phone rest in her lap and rested her head back on the couch cushion. Leaving Gillian had been the hardest part of leaving England. She’d been Claire’s best friend all throughout college and medical school. They’d decided to be roommates sophomore year after meeting in the pre-med program, and they’d never lived separately again until Claire’s wedding, at which, of course, Gillian had been the maid of honor. They were two peas in a pod, though one wouldn’t think so to see them separately. Gillian was brash and loud, and delightfully inappropriate more often than not. Gillian liked to say that Claire was the odd one out, that she was much too proper.

Gillian had been there for Claire after Faith’s diagnosis when Frank had not. He’d muttered something about needing some air the minute they got home from the doctor, and Claire had immediately phoned Gillian, sobbing into the phone for hours.

“He’s going to leave me, he’s going to leave us…I can’t do this alone…”

Gillian scoffed. “Wi’ the way he’s acting now, I bloody hope he does leave. Feckin’ louse.”

Well, she’d gotten what she wanted.

“I never bloody liked the bastard. I knew I should ha’ said something when he proposed. God dammit.”

Gillian had been the one to assure her that she was a good mother, that Faith’s triggers were not her fault, that she was doing the best she could.

Claire just needed to hear that right now.

As expected, Claire’s phone buzzed shortly after. She picked it up, expecting it to be a text in response, but Gillian was already calling her. Claire smiled to herself and sniffled.

“Hello?” she said, already embarrassed at how snuffly she sounded.

Gillian was quiet for a moment, then said: “Oh, is that wee Faith?”

Apparently, her shrieks were loud enough to be heard across the ocean. Claire sighed. “Yup.”

“She’s having one of her meltdowns, and ye’re all upset and feelin’ like you failed her, aye? That ye made the wrong decisions?”

Claire’s eyes quickly welled up again. “Yes,” she croaked.

“Oh, Claire. Ye ken that lass thinks ye’re a bloody queen, don’t ye? She worships ye.”

“When she’s not biting me. Or throwing things at me.”

“Och, biting again, aye? Well…ye ken that’s the autism. That’s no’ yer wee Faith. She canna help it when it takes over.”

“I know. I just…”

“She loves ye, Claire. I’ve seen it wi’ my own eyes. And I ken that she knows how fiercely ye love her. The autism just makes it hard fer her to see sometimes, aye?”

Claire breathed shakily. “I know you’re right. I mean…I know all this already. It just…”

“I ken. Ye need the reassurance. ’Specially since the Sperm Donor hasnae given ye any such thing his whole miserable life.”

Despite the pain that that fact caused, Claire could not help but smirk at Gillian’s newest term of endearment for the man who sired Faith. “Right.”

“Must be hard over there, all alone.” Claire could hear the twinge of sadness in her voice.

“I miss you, too, Gi.”

“I’m counting down the days ’till Christmas. Canna wait to see my two favorite lasses.”

Claire smiled. “And I can’t wait to see my best friend, and my daughter’s Godmother.”

“I’ve got to run, I had to sneak into a supply closet to call ye. I’m in the middle of a shift — ”

“Gillian,” Claire admonished. “You shouldn’t be doing that — ”

“Nothing more important than making sure my girls are okay. Aye?”

Claire sighed and rolled her eyes, but her smile widened.

“I hear she’s still carrying on, but just let her get it out of her wee system. She’ll be back to her humming and her movies soon enough. Just wait it out. Ye ken.”

“Yeah…I know.”

“I love ye, Claire. And I miss ye. Hang in there. I’ll call ye again sometime this week when I’m no’ in the middle of a shift. I wanna hear all about this Long Island of yers.”

Claire chuckled. “Alright. I eagerly await.”

“G’bye.”

“Bye, Gi. Thank you. Love you.”

“Quite welcome.”

She hung up, and Claire dropped her phone in her lap again. Faith was going to be inconsolable for at least another half hour, and Claire didn’t think she could bear just sitting there and listening. She didn’t turn on the telly or any music, lest she miss a suspicious noise or not hear that she stopped crying, but she did get to work sorting through a few more boxes. On her way over to a particular stack, she tripped over something. She looked down to see the riding helmet. Claire grimaced and gave it a strong kick, sending it rolling under the coffee table. She almost laughed: she’d only just admonished her daughter for doing almost the exact same thing.

“Bloody fucking helmet bastard piece of shit…”

She dissolved into an incoherent string of expletives, grateful that Faith, nor anyone else, could hear her.

#outlander #outlander au #outlander fanfic #outlandwr fanfiction #claire fraser #fergus fraser #faith fraser

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maybeimamuppet · 3 years

Text

dream a better dream

hello my little muppets!! happy wednesday!

this is a request fill for @erikascadys who requested sharkboy and lavagirl au! janis is lavagirl and damian is shark boy. and cady is just cady :))

i don't think i need any trigger warnings, but as always if I've missed one please let me know so I can add it!

anyway, please enjoy!

---

Cady has always been a dreamer.

Growing up in Kenya, it was nearly the only thing she could do to entertain herself. Sure, she had a few toys, or books to read, or lions to chase. But in terms of other humans, all she had were her parents and her dreams.

Her personal favorite dream first appeared one night when she was ten. Cady’s family had just gotten the news that her older brother, Rhys, had been killed in the line of combat. The only place Cady has as an escape from her grief is in her dreams.

She dreams of two people. Friends. A boy and a girl. The boy is part human, part shark. He has legs, but also fins. A human face, but shark teeth. And human hands, but sharp claws. In spite of everything, he seems kind. He cares for his shark friends and all the fish, carefully tends to the corals and feeds the seaweed and anemones. Cady cleverly dubs him Sharkboy.

The girl is very different. She’s made of lava and fire, with bright pink hair and the ability to shoot lava from her hands. Cady doesn’t know much else about her. She names her Lavagirl and leaves it at that.

Cady frantically writes her dream in her dream journal when she wakes up the next morning. She’s kept one since she learned how to write, detailing all her most precious dreams. She has a feeling this one is extra special.

“I’m going to the watering hole to take a bath!” She yells to her parents as she runs out of their tent. Her dad grabs her by the back of her shirt and scoops her up before she can make it out. “Hey!”

“Why are you suddenly so eager to take a bath?” Her dad asks, setting her down again.

“I’m not! I’m just excited for the day! I had a super special dream!” Cady says, bouncing up and down a few times. Her dad gives her a sad smile and ruffles her hair.

“Okay. Watch for crocs and hurry back for breakfast, binti.”

“I will!” Cady says, dashing out again.

After a quick but expert assessment, Cady dubs the small pool to be free of crocodiles and any other predators. The zebras wouldn’t be drinking here for so long, otherwise. Cady leaps in with a small splash and opens her eyes under the water. She’s been trying to learn how to do that recently.

But someone else is there. She screams and pops her head back above the surface. The figure follows. “Sharkboy?”

“Yeah!” Sharkboy says. “Hi!”

“You’re real?” Cady asks in awe.

“Yeah, duh! I’m right here,” Sharkboy says.

“Whoa,” Cady whispers. “Um… can I finish my bath, please? Then we can get to know each other!”

“Oh! Yeah, sorry!” Sharkboy says, turning around and covering his eyes. Cady swims back down and finishes cleaning herself, then dries herself off and gets dressed. Sharkboy swims up and rests on the shore.

“I thought you were a dream,” Cady murmurs, tilting her head. Sharkboy shakes his head.

“Nope! Well, kinda. But everything that is, or was, or will be, began with a dream.”

“Huh,” Cady says, tilting her head. “Okay, do you wanna go play? I’ve never… I’ve never had a human friend before.”

“I’m not human,” Sharkboy says, smiling so she can see his teeth.

“Oh, right,” Cady giggles. “I’ve never had a shark friend before either.”

Sharkboy smiles wider. “Yeah, come on. I bet you’re pretty fast growing up out here.”

“Tag! You’re it!”

Cady shares her breakfast with Sharkboy, and they play together in between Cady’s chores. She learns his real name is Damian, and that he was a marine biologist with his mother. Their research base was destroyed in a storm, and he was practically adopted by the sharks. And now he searches the universe for his mother.

“I hope you find her,” Cady says genuinely. “We lost my brother a while ago. But he’s not coming back.”

“I heard. I’m sorry,” Sharkboy says. Cady shrugs.

“It’s okay. I miss him a lot, but my parents say he’s still with me. Anyway, you wanna come see the lions? They’re my favorite.”

Sharkboy nods and runs after her to help feed the lions their dinner. The sun is setting, painting the sky gold and orange and pink as it makes its way down for the day. Once the first stars are just beginning to twinkle for the night, a bright flash of pink light suddenly glows from behind them.

“Lavagirl,” Cady breathes when she turns around. Lavagirl smiles slightly and nods. Maybe that really is her name. “You’re real too!”

“Sharkboy, I need your help,” Lavagirl says. “You have to come with me. A great crisis is developing on the Planet Drool.”

Sharkboy nods and heads to her side. They begin to run off together, before freezing and turning back to Cady.

“Can you come as well, Cady?”

“Er… I would,” Cady stutters. “I’d really like to, but… I have homeschool tomorrow.”

Lavagirl nods in understanding, and they both turn back and continue running off. Cady doesn’t see them again.

—-

Until six years later. Cady’s parents have lost their funding and are forced to move back to America. Cady is both upset and excited. She’s sad to be leaving the only home she’s known, but eager to experience life in the west. And go to real school for the first time.

She starts at North Shore High three days after they move to Chicago. Her wishes for a happy American life are quickly dashed.

The building is massive and meandering, built of a labyrinth of hallways and classrooms that all look the same and packed wall to wall with other kids all shoving and pushing and yelling. Like sardines.

Sharkboy would like that, she thinks with a little smile. And he could use his navigation instincts to help me get around this place.

By some miracle she makes it to homeroom on time and plops herself in an empty seat near the front of the room. She looks up when it suddenly goes quiet and the teacher begins speaking.

“Hello class, I’m Ms. Norbury, I teach AP Calculus,” she begins. Cady looks up in relief and checks her schedule. This is her math teacher. “And we have a new student this year, I see. Caddy Heron?”

“Uh-it’s Cady,” Cady stutters quietly, raising her hand. “I used to be homeschooled.”

That gets a few snickers from people in the back of the room, and Ms. Norbury’s demeanor seems to change slightly. “That’s a fun way to steal from my union.”

“Oh! No, no,” Cady says immediately. “I grew up in Kenya, my parents are zoologists. Not many unions there.”

Much to her relief, Ms. Norbury relaxes slightly and gives her a kind smile. “In that case, welcome to North Shore. I saw you on my roster for the afternoon, I look forward to seeing what you can do.”

Cady gives her an eager smile back and nods as she gathers her things once the bell goes off.

—-

In her English class, she gets an assignment to write a short story about her favorite childhood memory. Cady thinks long and hard about which moment to choose. The time a lion broke into her tent and cuddled her all night? Or the time she got to see the city of Nairobi for the first time? Her first airplane trip?

Suddenly, it hits her. She had never had more fun as a kid than when she spent the day with Sharkboy. So Cady writes about that. What could go wrong?

As it turns out, reading the essay aloud in front of the whole class is what can go wrong. Cady eagerly volunteers to go first. Mistake one.

She looks up when she finishes reading, to the sneers and smirks of her classmates. And that’s before they start laughing out loud. One of them even throws a ball of paper at her.

“Sit down, Cady,” her teacher says gently. Cady sits down quietly back at her spot, trying to ignore the jeers of the other students. “Cady appears to have merely misunderstood the assignment. I asked for true stories. But that was a very well done work of fiction.”

“It is true!” Cady says, much louder than she’s spoken all day. Another paper ball hits her. Cady pulls her dream journal out of her backpack, where she also wrote about the day she got to spend with Sharkboy. “He said everything that is, or was, started with a dream. It’s true.”

Her teacher looks at her sadly and gives a slight head shake as the next kid gets up to read their essay. Cady doesn’t speak up again until the bell rings.

“Cady, a moment please,” her teacher asks quietly. Cady sheepishly heads over to her desk. “You have a real way with words. But you’re sixteen, in the eleventh grade. It’s time to stop dreaming, okay?”

Cady takes the pencil she had tucked behind her ear and scratches that down in her journal. “No dreaming. Got it. I-I’ll try harder.”

Her teacher looks at her sadly but nods, sending her off to her next class. Cady is pulling her schedule out of her backpack to check the room number when she’s suddenly knocked to the ground.

“Watch where you’re going, jungle freak,” the girl she’s bumped into spits.

“I’m sorry,” Cady says desperately. “I didn’t see you, I didn’t mean it-“

“I’m sure you didn’t. As payback… what is that?”

“My-my dream journal,” Cady says, clutching it to her chest.

“Can I see it?” The girl asks. Cady naively hands it over. The girl flips through it and laughs. “You’ll get an edited version tomorrow.”

“Wait, give it back!” Cady yells, trying to run after her. The girl’s two cronies block her path.

“Trust us, don’t mess with Regina. We’ll try to keep her from doing too much to it. But she can do a lot worse,” the blonde one murmurs.

Cady hollowly stops fighting them and steps back. The girls give her an apologetic look before they run after their friend.

————-

Cady cries herself to sleep that night. America is nothing like she thought it would be. She wishes she could be back in Kenya, where the only things around for miles to laugh at her were the hyenas. Or, at the very least, that she wouldn’t have to go to school tomorrow. Maybe there’ll be a bad storm. With tornados.

In her dreams, Sharkboy and Lavagirl make an appearance for the first time since she was eleven. She’d gotten little glimpses of their work on planet Drool, as they helped make it into the awesome planet of Cady’s dreams. They seemed happy.

But something is wrong, now. Cady can’t quite piece it together, but the scenes she can see clearly aren’t right. She wakes up with a gasp and runs to the window. A bright, clear day greets her mockingly.

“Guess I didn’t dream hard enough.”

—————

Cady trudges through the morning. Her parents are arguing over something or other, probably trying to get her father a job again. Cady’s mom asks her to come right home after school so they can all talk. Cady suddenly starts wishing something will happen at school so she doesn’t have to go home.

By lunch, the sky about matches her mood. Dark clouds block out any hint of blue that wanted to shine through, and loom ominously over the building. Her science teacher takes the opportunity to teach about tornados and their origins.

Regina strolls in casually about ten minutes after the bell, holding a bag that must be too small to carry all her books. Not that she cares.

Cady stands and goes to her desk, holding out a hand. “Give it back.”

“Ladies, is there an issue?” the teacher asks.

“Regina took my dream journal yesterday.”

“Ooh, a liar, too, how fun,” Regina titters.

“Regina, give Cady her book. It hasn’t even been a week and you’re already picking up the bullying again,” the teacher huffs. Something tells Cady that Regina had never set the bullying down in the first place.

Begrudgingly, Regina picks up her designer bag and roots through it. Cady thankfully takes her precious book back. But as she opens it to check that all her dreams are where they were before, she gasps in horror.

Every single page has been scratched out one way or another. Lipstick, black marker in swirly handwriting, even a few pages covered in letter stickers that spell out particularly cruel taunts.

“She ruined it!”

“Where’s your proof, you little freak?” Regina retaliates.

“That’s enough! Both of you will be reporting with me to the principal’s office after school. With your parents,” the teacher yells, trying to get her class back under control. It turns out to be a futile effort when the windows suddenly blow open with the force of the winds outside. “I do not get paid enough for this.”

Everyone ducks underneath their desks as papers start flying around the room, covering their heads and faces for protection. In her haste to get back to her desk, Cady accidentally drops the journal by Regina’s feet, who bends down to pick it up with a coy smirk.

Cady has curled up in a ball beneath her desk when there’s suddenly a thunderous crash accompanied by the sounds of breaking glass. Carefully, Cady peeks up above to see…

Sharkboy and Lavagirl. Evidently having entered through a new hole in the wall.

“I’m looking for Cady,” Lavagirl says, staring down Cady’s classmates. Everyone points to Cady’s desk in the far corner. Cady squeaks and ducks back down. Lavagirl makes her way over regardless, setting homework alight on her way. When she reaches her, Lavagirl lifts Cady’s desk off the ground with just one hand, revealing Cady curled in a frightened ball. “We need your help, Cady. Come with us.”

“Wh-what do I have to do?” Cady stutters, following after the girl made of fire.

“Just come with us, we’ll explain on the way.”

“Hi Cady!” Sharkboy says, waving eagerly. Lavagirl whacks him gently.

“I can’t go with you.” Cady says.

“Why not?”

“Be-because you’re not real! Both of you! You’re just a dream,” Cady says, trying to admit it to herself as well. “And-and you’ll be gone when I open my eyes.”

Cady squeezes her eyes shut for a moment.

When she opens them again, Sharkboy and Lavagirl are gone. Or so she thinks.

“We’re still here, Cady,” Sharkboy says from behind her. Cady screams and whirls around.

“If you want to stop The Darkness from destroying our worlds,” Lavagirl growls slightly. “You’ll come with us.”

“You should probably go with them,” Cady’s teacher squeaks, poking her head up from behind her desk. Cady nods.

“Okay. I-I’ll go with you.”

——————

“Where are we going?” Cady yells, trying to keep up with her friends. Creations? No, friends is much better.

“Planet Drool!” Sharkboy yells over his shoulder.

“It’s real?!”

“Yeah! We just punched a hole in your school, is it so hard to believe?”

“How are we getting there?”

“Enough with the questions!” Lavagirl demands. Cady suddenly notices the shark shaped rocket ship in front of them.

“Oh. Sorry.”

“Put on the goggles,” Lavagirl says, handing Cady a pair of electric blue ones. Hers are purple, and Sharkboy’s are pink. Cady doesn’t judge.

“So how do you fly this thing?” Sharkboy asks. Cady looks at him.

“You don’t know?”

“That’s our whole problem!” Lavagirl says angrily. Cady blinks at her a few times sheepishly before she slams her foot on a pedal. It reveals a green ‘GO’ button. Cady presses it, and they’re off.

Cady looks out the window at the tornados, before they’re suddenly in the atmosphere.

“How do you control it?!” Lavagirl yells at her over the roaring of the engines.

“It has an auto-pilot!” Cady yells back. Lavagirl smacks the button in front of her.

“Wow, you really thought of everything!” Sharkboy says happily.

“Er… not exactly,” Cady says.

“How the fuck do we land?!” Lavagirl says when she realizes.

“That’s the bit I forgot!”

“Well, there’s Neptune,” Lavagirl spits. “Hold on to your asses!”

Cady braces and shuts her eyes, clinging to her harness for safety. Luckily they don’t seem to crash too hard. The ground is almost… squishy.

The mouth of the shark-rocket opens for them to step out onto the surface of the planet. Cady looks out in awe at the world she’s created.

“Do you recognize it, Cady?” Sharkboy asks quietly.

“Not really,” Cady admits shyly. “I feel like I should, but I just… don’t.”

“It’s affecting you too, then,” Sharkboy says sadly. Lavagirl glares at him. “I thought she’d remember!”

“Remember what?”

“Your dreams,” Lavagirl says. “The whole fucking planet? Us? Your powers?”

“I’ve got powers?”

“More than any of us,” Sharkboy says. “Remember what I told you when we met? Everything that is, or was, or will be, began with a dream. And you dreamt us, and this whole place!”

“Every dream you ever had landed here,” Lavagirl says.

“Oh. Why-why is it so dark? I don’t have that many nightmares,” Cady says.

“It began yesterday. What’s the calculation, Sharkboy?” Lavagirl asks. Sharkboy pulls out a shark-shaped device. It’s beeping quietly and seems to be scanning the environment for something.

“About forty-five minutes,” he replies.

“Forty-five minutes until what?” Cady asks.

“Until the planet… is… destroyed,” Sharkboy says sheepishly.

“We didn’t pick you up to save you,” Lavagirl says, looking out over the darkening horizon. “We need you to save us.”

“Oh. How-how do I do that?” Cady asks anxiously. This is way more responsibility than she asked for when she started keeping a dream journal.

“The dream lair over there. That’s where your dreams are going bad,” Sharkboy says sadly. “We have to get you there and find out what’s happening to them. And hopefully reverse it.”

Sounds simple enough.

“We’ll have to travel through the Passage of Time, catch the Train of Thought, swim down the Stream of Consciousness, and skate across the Sea of Confusion. Because it’s frozen now. Nice going, Cady,” Lavagirl grumbles.

“Lava, don’t be mean! It’s not her fault,” Sharkboy admonishes. “We brought Cady here to put things back in order. We just have to stay positive! It’s not the end of the world.”

“It literally is, though!” Lavagirl yells from a ways away. She turns around and walks backwards away from them for a moment. “The planet is dying, come on!”

“What’s her deal?” Cady asks anxiously as she and Sharkboy run after Lavagirl. Suddenly, a groaning creak is heard, and they both turn around to find the shark rocket being swallowed by the Darkness. “Run!”

Everyone picks up the pace, until they’re suddenly on a platform moving rapidly towards a sort of carnival.

“How is this here if you’ve never been to a carnival?” Lavagirl asks.

“I read about them in books and stuff. I always wanted to go to one,” Cady says sheepishly. “I was, like, ten, give me a break!” Lavagirl shrugs and turns away from her with a huff. “Where is everyone? My dream planet shouldn’t be so lonely.”

“They’re stuck,” Sharkboy says, pointing to a roller coaster weaving around a tall mountain that looks remarkably like Kilimanjaro. “Trapped. Ms. Neverbury has everyone kind of held hostage.”

“How awful,” Cady says sadly. “My world was supposed to be fun.”

“Oh, it’s fun, alright,” Lavagirl chuckles sardonically. “Endless fun. Once you get on, you can’t get off.”

“Kids aren’t allowed to rest here, because if they rest, they sleep, if they sleep, they dream, and if they dream…”

“It takes power away from Neverbury. But we have a secret weapon to stop her,” Lavagirl says mischievously.

“Oh, good,” Cady says in relief.

“It’s you, dipshit,” Lavagirl huffs.

“Oh. You know, you’re a lot more rude than I remember!” Cady yells as Lavagirl rushes up to the coaster. “You’re very dismissive!”

“Get used to it!” Lavagirl yells back, reaching up a fist and floating up to the carts rushing around.

“Don’t mind her, she’s having a sort of… identity crisis,” Sharkboy says apologetically. “She’s usually pretty nice, but she’s scared, and she gets angry when she’s afraid.”

“Would you two shut up? We’re on a time crunch here!” Lavagirl reminds them, dangling upside down from the coaster.

“Oh, oops,” Sharkboy says. He does the same motion and joins Lavagirl above their heads, moving to stop the coaster. Cady tries it too, but she can only jump about a foot.

“Man, why can’t I do that?”

Luckily for her, there’s a ladder a few feet away. She’ll have to use that until she figures out how to jump the way her new friends do.

“Whoa,” she breathes as Lavagirl suddenly lands on the cart of the coaster, somehow perfectly steady even as it hurtles around the winding track. Everyone on the cart cheers in relief. Lavagirl hops down in front of it, causing sparks to fly as she attempts to stop it with one hand and shoots lava to weaken the tracks with the other. Sharkboy grabs onto the back and pulls, and their combined strength makes the coaster grind to a halt.

“Who knows where Neverbury is hiding?” Lavagirl demands. She tilts her head in confusion as everyone appears to have both hands raised. “All of you?”

“You’re all upside down,” Cady giggles from her position on the ladder.

“Oh.”

Suddenly, a booming voice echos around them. “Who is stopping my unstoppable fun?!”

Lavagirl gasps and shoots small jets from both hands to release the bars on all the kids, allowing them to fall gently to the ground and run to safety.

“Who is Neverbury?” Cady asks, hopping into the coaster herself and bringing the bar down for protection as it begins to move again. Sharkboy sits next to her, and Lavagirl stands on the front to coast along.

“She’s supposed to be the sort of protector here,” Sharkboy says. “Keep everyone safe. Be a light. But all she brings now is darkness.”

Cady is about to respond when she’s suddenly slammed backwards into her seat. She screams as the coaster suddenly rockets off, hurtling down the track at impossible speeds. Nothing is impossible here, she reminds herself.

“She’s taking us up!” Sharkboy yells. Cady clings to his arm in fright. She decides she’s not quite so interested in riding roller coasters anymore.

Cady peeks up from Sharkboy when they finally come to a blessed stop, letting out a little squeak of fright. Sharkboy gently pats her head to let her know it’s alright before he hops out of the cart. Lavagirl follows him, and Cady scrambles out once she can feel her extremities again.

A large robot has its back to them, fiddling with various buttons and levers to bring images up on the large screens in front of it. It yells something at whatever she sees before it turns to see them. Cady screams quietly. It looks a lot like Ms. Norbury. What I wouldn’t give to be in calculus class right now.

“Well well well, if it isn’t Sharkboy and Lavagirl,” the robot says. “What do you want? Why have you halted my endless fun and infiltrated my lair?”

“We don’t need permission from you, you circular bitch,” Lavagirl huffs.

“Man. Fiery today,” Neverbury huffs. She appears to notice Cady then. “Hello, I don’t believe we’ve met. I am Ms. Neverbury.”

“Um-hi,” Cady says anxiously.

“Why are you doing this to our planet? You’re supposed to be running it,” Sharkboy demands.

“You’re supposed to be running it,” Neverbury mocks. “I am running it, I do run it. Right into the ground. Er, those are my orders.”

Maybe Cady has less control here than Sharkboy and Lavagirl thought. Everything here is supposed to be under her command, but she would’ve never ordered something like this. “Who ordered that?”

“No school, no discipline, no rules,” Neverbury continues. Cady loves school. She loves rules. This is clearly the work of someone else. Not even childhood Cady would’ve done something like this. “And no dreaming.”

“Dreams can destroy you, can’t they?” Lavagirl asks coyly. “That’s why we have to stop you.”

“You and what army?” Neverbury scoffs.

“Guys,” Cady says quietly, pointing behind them. A series of electrical plugs appear to have come to life behind them, sparking ominously. That’s probably not good.

Sharkboy and Lavagirl snap to attention, doing a series of very sophisticated moves and fighting the plugs back. Lavagirl looks very eager to be demonstrating some rather violent tendencies.

“Hey Sparky,” she calls loudly, getting Neverbury’s attention. “Catch me if you can.”

Cady and Sharkboy watch as she sets her hands and feet alight and rockets herself upwards, to another metal platform higher up. Neverbury follows and winces as Lavagirl shoots jets of magma out of her hands.

Cady doesn’t quite know what to do. She was never much good at fighting. Sharkboy snaps back into his fights, punching out several of the plugs and grinding their circuits with his sharp teeth. Wanting to be helpful, Cady grabs a cord and tugs as hard as she can. Eventually, it gives, and Cady winds up on her behind looking up at a plug. It rattles rather ominously and gives chase, so Cady bolts. So to speak.

She runs as fast as she can, and being Kenyan, she’s still pretty fast. She turns to check that she’s lost her pursuer at one point, and finds the plug straining at the confines of its cord.

“Aww, are you a bit short?” She teases. “We’ve all been there. Come get me, loser!”

“Cady, stop trash talking, it doesn’t suit you,” Lavagirl yells, still fighting off Neverbury above them.

“Fine,” Cady huffs. She tips her head and coos quietly as the plug continues straining. Suddenly it appears to ‘look’ to its left and spies another plug. Cady watches in horror as it plugs itself in and gives itself more reach. “Ah, shuck!”

She runs again, but pauses when she hears crunching behind her. Sharkboy is jumping up

and down on the plug, smashing it to bits and stomping out any hint of current still running through it. He smiles at Cady when the last spark flies and fizzles out.

“You’re amazing,” Cady beams.

“You had to be scared of electricity?!” Lavagirl yells.

“I grew up in a tent, I don’t like it!” Cady yells back.

“Both of you shut up!” Neverbury yells. Lavagirl shoots a stronger jet at her face. Neverbury closes her eyes and drifts down slightly. Lavagirl relaxes, but Neverbury quickly pops back up. “Haha, pranked.”

“Good one,” Lavagirl huffs, grinding her heels in an attempt to get a good stance to continue fighting.

“Did you really believe you could stop me? Aww,” Neverbury coos.

Lavagirl kites her back down to Cady and Sharkboy. Sharkboy runs up to aid in the fight.

“I know we can’t,” he says threateningly. “But she can!”

They both point to Cady, who stands there uselessly. Neverbury laughs. Cady holds up her fists.

“Show ‘em what you’re made of, Cades,” Lavagirl huffs.

“What am I supposed to do?” Cady asks urgently. Lavagirl takes a moment to smack Sharkboy upside the head.

“I told you this would happen!”

“I thought she would remember!” Sharkboy defends, rubbing his sore spot.

“Remember what?!” Cady demands from the both of them.

Lavagirl is about to answer when she’s suddenly snatched up by one of Neverbury’s metal claws. Cady shrieks as the other claw grabs her by the foot and dangles her upside down.

“Your dream! Remember the dream,” Sharkboy yells at her.

“I don’t remember half my dreams!” Cady yells back. “That’s why I write them in my journal!”

“What part of your dream do you remember?” Lavagirl yells, trying to get free from Neverbury’s grasp.

“I remember this,” Cady says, feeling like she’s about to hurl. Keep it together. Sharkboy is grabbed by a third claw and brought up to their level.

“Where are you taking us?!” He demands.

“Oh, where all useless dreams go. The dream dump,” Neverbury shrugs. The three of them are suddenly dangled over the chasm below, and dropped.

“This is not what I signed up for!” Cady yells on her way down.

—-

They fall for who knows how long before thudding down onto a metal platform. It spits them back out, onto a sort of conveyor belt. At least they all made it.

“Cuckoo!” Sharkboy warns. Everyone ducks down to avoid being decapitated by a large bird. “At least we’re on the passage of time! Maybe it’ll take us to the dream lair!”

Cady looks around at the various clocks they’re surrounded by. Something isn’t right with them. They’re going backwards.

“It’s going the wrong way,” Lavagirl huffs. “Dream lair is that way, genius.”

“What is the dream lair?” Cady asks quietly.

“It’s where all the dreams that fuel the planet are stored,” Sharkboy replies. “But they’re being destroyed.”

“How?”

“That’s what we have to find out. Soon, even the two of us will cease to exist,” Sharkboy sighs, gesturing to himself and Lavagirl.

“Duck!” Lavagirl yells, pointing. Everyone hits the deck again to avoid a duck-shaped cuckoo. “Heh.”

“Cady, just out of curiosity,” Sharkboy asks as they warily stand once again. “Where is this dream journal?”

“Oh, good idea,” Lavagirl says, the first positive thing she’s said all day. “We can read it out loud and set everything back the way it was!” She adds in a whisper, “And maybe find out my true identity.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Where is it?”

“I… uh…,” Cady stutters, feeling around in her pockets. “I don’t have it. I must have dropped it during the storm.”

Lavagirl’s hair suddenly sets ablaze in anger, and she shatters the next cuckoo in a single punch. “I was really starting to think you were the answer, Cady.”

“Don’t listen to her,” Sharkboy grumbles protectively. “She’s just mad because she’s having an identity crisis and you didn’t fix it for her.”

“Shut up, Sharky!” Lavagirl yells. “Look who’s talking. You’re mad she didn’t make you… king of the ocean or whatever the fuck, with a giant fish army. Cady thought her dream world would be a happy place. We’ve all been had.”

“Guys!” Cady yells, interrupting their bickering. “End of the line.”

“Oh, shit,” Sharkboy says, as the end of the conveyor belt gets ever nearer. There’s nowhere to go but down. Lavagirl falls first, followed by Cady and Sharkboy.

Cady yelps in pain as she lands smack on top of Lavagirl, scrambling away to avoid any serious burns. Lavagirl buries her face in the dirt and groans. “I think you dislocated a few of my craters.”

“Sorry,” Cady says frantically. “Ow, you’re hot.”

“Thanks,” Lavagirl teases. “We gotta find a way out of here.”

The three of them stand and dust themselves off carefully, before setting off in an attempt to find an exit.

“I don’t think there is a way out of here,” Sharkboy says after a while. “And the Darkness is coming.” He appears to realize something, suddenly. “Wait! Cady, sit down.”

“Uh… okay,” Cady says confusedly, sitting down on a pile of calculus textbooks.

“Now dream,” Sharkboy commands. “What do you see?”

Cady closes her eyes carefully and tries to dream. “I see… a giant… Kälteen bar.” Both her companions look very unimpressed when she opens her eyes again. “I’m sorry, I’m starving! I never got my lunch.”

“For the love of magma,” Lavagirl huffs, massaging the bridge of her nose.

“Here,” Sharkboy offers, brandishing a… fish? Maybe? “Fresh sushi.”

“Blech, that’s not fresh,” Cady nearly-heaves. “I don’t even know if that’s sushi anymore.”

“Just a few weeks old,” Sharkboy shrugs.

“You want me to cook it for you?” Lavagirl asks, wrapping a fist around the poor… thing. When she pulls away, it’s been charred to a crisp. “Oops.”

“Er… on second thought, I’m not that hungry, it’s fine,” Cady says. “Let me try again.”

“Hey, um… if you happen to dream about, like, who I am… how I fit into this world,” Lavagirl murmurs. “That would… really be helpful for me.”

“Stop distracting her. Focus on the problem at hand,” Sharkboy insists.

“I can put her to sleep,” Lavagirl huffs. Sharkboy grabs her and pulls her away. “Come on, one punch?”

“She made us!”

“And where has that gotten us?!” Lavagirl roars. Cady backs away in fright, until she hits something with a metallic clang. She whirls around and looks up to see…

“Tobor!”

“Huh?”

“It’s Tobor! I tried to build him out of our old food cans and stuff when I was little,” Cady says happily. “But… I could never get him to work.”

“So here he is, forgotten in the dream dump,” Lavagirl says, finally seeming to calm down.

“He’s supposed to be very smart. Maybe he can help,” Cady says. “Tobor, wake up!”

“Yeees?” Tobor replies. Cady gasps in shock. That voice is… familiar.

“Rhys?” She asks, eyes brimming with tears. She hasn’t heard that voice since she was eight years old. She thought she had forgotten. Tobor just gives her a wink. That’s all the confirmation she needs.

“Hello, Cady Heron.”

“You can answer anything, right?” Cady asks, wiping her eyes and looking up at Tobor’s large tin head.

“That I can. Whether it is correct is another matter entirely,” Tobor replies ominously.

“It can answer anything?” Lavagirl asks, unceremoniously shoving Cady out of the way. “Tell me something about me. Please.”

“Never heard you say please before,” Sharkboy grumbles under his breath.

“You are extremely bright,” Tobor says to Lavagirl. Her brow furrows, but she gets a slight grin as she tries to work out what that could mean. Sharkboy goes next.

“Hi Tobor! Am I king of the ocean?”

“No.”

“Damn it.”

Cady chuckles and pats his shoulder comfortingly before she goes to ask Tobor her question. “How do I save this planet?”

“The answer… is in your dreams,” Tobor says.

“You mean if I put her to sleep?” Lavagirl asks, brandishing what looks to be a tire iron.

“No, where did you even find that?!” Sharkboy says, wrestling her to take it and throwing it as far away from them as he can.

“No… at least, not here. Darkness is falling. Any dream of hers will become a nightmare. And you don’t want those becoming a reality,” Tobor continues. “But, if you go to the land of Kälteen bars… that’s where the good dreams are.”

“Oh, duh!” Sharkboy says, as if it should’ve been obvious the whole time.

“That’s where the answers are.”

“Can you take us there?” Cady asks Tobor.

“I would, but I have no body. I can’t move,” Tobor says sadly.

Lavagirl looks him up and down suspiciously. “You can move your eyes and your mouth.”

“I suppose that might work.”

Lavagirl and Sharkboy each take one of his eyes, and Cady climbs into his mouth. Suddenly, they detach from the large tin can that made up Tobor’s head a drift off to the land of Kälteen bars. What a day.

——

“Tobor, why didn’t you work when I built you?” Cady asks, drifting peacefully over what looks like a forest of brains.

“Some dreams are so powerful they become real on their own, like Sharkboy and Lavagirl. I, on the other hand, am still only a dream.”

“Oh.”

“Um…” Tobor says.

“What’s the matter?”

“Train of thought. I’m losing it.”

“Land of Kälteen bars,” Lavagirl huffs.

“No, I’m literally losing the train of thought,” Tobor says. “Down there.”

“Huh,” Cady says interestedly, looking down. “I never thought I had a train.”

“What did you think you had?” Sharkboy chuckles.

“I dunno,” Cady shrugs. “Maybe a race car. Doesn’t get too much use, but when it does it goes fast and needs frequent pit stops.”

Lavagirl chuckles at that, but stops abruptly and tries to cover it up with a cough.

“Well, since I do actually have a train… how do I keep it on track?” Cady asks anxiously.

“With your mind. You are easily distracted. Stay focused, and it will speed you directly to the land of Kälteen bars,” Tobor explains. “The rest is up to you.”

Cady and her companions jump down onto the train. Cady looks back at her old creation for a moment. “I’m sorry I forgot you.”

“Are you kidding? You’ve just saved me,” Tobor chuckles gently. “I’m free.”

“Cady!” Lavagirl yells. “Get your ass down here!”

Cady gasps and whirls around. Lavagirl has her head poking out the window of the engine car.

“What’s wrong?!” Cady yells over the roar of the train engine.

“We can’t control it!” Sharkboy says as he and Lavagirl frantically press every button and flip every lever they can reach. Cady joins in as if she knows what she’s doing.

“All you have to do is keep it on track,” she says. Sounds easy enough.

“There is no track!” Lavagirl reminds them. Cady freezes and looks out the window. She’s right.

“What do we do?” Sharkboy asks anxiously.

“Uh… scream?” Lavagirl says. “I don’t know.”

Sharkboy flips another lever, and the door opens. “Jump! It’ll be fine!”

He leaps out the door and is quickly blown off by a gust of wind. Lavagirl follows almost immediately. Cady is left alone on a crashing train. At least if she jumps she’ll crash with her friends.

Cady closes her eyes and leaps, hoping for a miracle. The wind blows her hair everywhere and stings her skin as she hurtles to the ground. Until it stops. Warily, she opens her eyes.

“A Kälteen bar!” She says happily, pushing herself upright. It tips slightly, so she puts her arms out for balance. “Whoa. In a river of milk. Huh. Um… do you guys know what it means when your train of thought… crashes?”

“Nothing good,” Lavagirl says, sounding remarkably chipper. “How much time, Sharky?”

“Twenty minutes,” Sharkboy replies anxiously. He takes a step forward to look around, but his foot suddenly sinks into a puddle of something. He yelps in surprise, but crouches down to inspect it. “Chocolate?”

“It must be the s’mores flavor,” Cady chuckles. “There’s marshmallows too.”

“Why Kälteen bars, though?” Lavagirl asks. “And not, like, cookies, or something?”

“I never had cookies as a kid,” Cady replies. “But we always had Kälteens. And I wasn’t really allowed to eat them, I ate a whole box in a row once and got sick, so my parents hid them and I could only get them if they gave them to me. They were a special thing.”

Lavagirl gives this a moment’s thought and nods. “Try to dream again. Lie down.”

Cady does, using a bit of marshmallow as a pillow. She closes her eyes, but the bar beneath her begins to shake. “It’s too shaky.”

“I hear it too,” Sharkboy says, listening around with his highly trained ears. Lavagirl raises a suspicious eyebrow at the two of them.

“Let me try.”

“No, Lava-“ Sharkboy says, but it’s too late. Lavagirl rests her head on the marshmallow, and the whole thing is suddenly charred. “Hothead.”

“Cady,” Lavagirl says suddenly. “When you dreamt up these giant bars… who did you expect to be able to eat them?”

Cady shrugs. “I dunno, I never really thought about that part.”

“Because if you dream giant bars, something has to be created to consume giant bars,” Lavagirl explains. The rumbling sounds get louder, suddenly, and everyone looks around for the source.

“Giants!” Sharkboy yells, pointing off to the left. He abandons ship again, followed by Lavagirl. Cady is so distracted looking at the giants that she nearly doesn’t make it off, leaping at the very last second before one of the giants chomps down on the Kälteen bar raft.

Luckily for them, they appear to land on…

“Hey, this was my ninth birthday cake! That thing was awesome,” Cady laughs. “Nice and springy.”

“Too much frosting,” Lavagirl grumbles, trying to brush herself clean.

Cady removes herself from her cake and turns around, watching the giants leave peacefully hand in hand. Sharkboy approaches her and rests a hand on her shoulder.

“Those giants look a lot like my parents,” Cady murmurs.

“They seem happy together,” Sharkboy nods. “Is that… another dream of yours?”

“Family,” Cady nods. “Hasn’t really been coming true lately.”

“Well, most dreams don’t come true on their own. You have to make them true,” Sharkboy says. “It takes a lot of work. Not easy. But it’s not impossible either.”

“Alright, we’ve had enough sweets, go to sleep,” Lavagirl huffs, joining them.

“I’ll try,” Cady says anxiously, laying down on the granola ground. Sharkboy gently plays with her hair to help her drift off while Lavagirl paces around.

Flowers begin to bloom around them as Cady dreams, and a shark-shaped motorcycle suddenly drives up. Sharkboy gasps excitedly and runs to check it out, so Lavagirl takes over his position by Cady’s head.

“Dream about me next,” she says quietly. “I need to know who I am. Dream of me as something good.”

A clap of thunder suddenly booms overhead, making Lavagirl whirl around. She looks back to Cady’s face and finds it pinched in concern. “She’s having a nightmare. Sharkboy, get back here!”

Sharkboy runs over and tries to shake Cady back awake, to no avail. Lavagirl stands and aims her hands carefully at Cady’s backside.

“Sorry Cady,” she murmurs, firing a jet of lava.

“Jesus!” Cady yells, her eyes snapping open as she leaps to her feet. “Ow! What the hell was that for?”

“You weren’t waking up,” Lavagirl shrugs sheepishly. Sharkboy kindly fires a jet of water to help cool her off. “Thanks Sharky. Cady… your nightmare… it was about me, wasn’t it?”

Cady tries to think. Surely that can’t be right. She can see bits and pieces, but can’t quite reach them enough to put them back together. “I don’t remember. I’m sorry.”

“Plug hounds!” Sharkboy suddenly yells, pointing to an ice cream hill above them. Neverbury makes her way to the top.

“I have the high ground!”

The hounds suddenly run towards them, stumbling down the hill. Cady and her friends run to the shark bike, but nothing happens when Sharkboy attempts to start the engine. Other than…

“Ah, fudge,” Cady says. “I forgot to dream of gas.”

“Oh my-“ Lavagirl says angrily, storming off in a huff to fight the hounds off. Sharkboy joins her. Lavagirl shoots a jet of lava at one, before she looks at her hands. “My powers are weakening.”

One of the hounds suddenly unravels, wrapping her up in tight confines while a few others zap at her toes. Sharkboy, on the other hand, is doing remarkably well, punching out several with a series of very elaborate karate moves.

He rips off a part to the shark bike to use as a staff, and takes out several more. Unfortunately, he doesn’t notice one that hasn’t quite been beat down rise to its feet, followed by another. They both shock him, causing him to fall to the ground with a pained moan.

“Hey! Leave my friends alone!” Cady yells, bending down and swiping some frosting onto her face like war paint. She’s in the middle of a battle cry when she also gets shocked and falls to the ground. It didn’t quite go to plan, but it did allow Sharkboy to escape his attackers and rush to her side.

“I don’t-I don’t have much fight left in me, Cades,” he pants.

“Where’s Lavagirl?” Cady puffs back. Lavagirl comes… flowing over, so to speak.

“What?” She asks when they both give her confused looks. “How else was I supposed to escape? Oh, don’t look at me like that, I’m literally made of lava. It’s up to you now, Cady.”

“Cady, you can dream us out of here,” Sharkboy realizes. “We believe in you, go on.”

Cady squeezes her eyes shut and tries her hardest to dream. Lavagirl quietly pleads for a lava bike behind her, and Sharkboy asks for a shark boat. Cady opens her eyes to reveal…

“A banana split?” Lavagirl spits. “Seriously?”

“They’re really good!” Cady defends, crossing her arms over her chest protectively.

“Still hungry?” Lavagirl says threateningly, popping back into her human body and holding up a fist. “How about a knuckle sandwich?”

“Lava, chill,” Sharkboy says, batting her hands away from poor Cady’s face. “Look at it, it’s a banana split boat!”

“Then let’s split,” Lavagirl yells as another wave of plug hounds rounds over the hill. Cady helps Sharkboy push it into the milk river and start rowing just before the hounds reach them.

Once they’re steadily drifting down the river and being steered by Lavagirl, Cady and Sharkboy finally get to sit down on a swiss roll bench. “This is great, Cades. You’re starting to daydream. If you can keep this up, they’ll never get us!”

“Really?”

“Yeah! If you learn to dream with your eyes open, you don’t have to be asleep to dream,” Sharkboy explains. “You’ll be able to make anything happen at any time. You’ll be unstoppable.”

“Grool,” Cady says. She freezes suddenly. “I-uh… I meant to say great, and then started to say cool…”

Lavagirl bursts out laughing, a remarkably bright, clean sound. Cady likes it. She smiles back at her before scooping some whipped cream onto a finger to taste it. “Mm!”

“Sugar will give you nightmares,” Lavagirl says, already back to her typical brooding. Cady immediately spits out her mouthful before she swallows any. “How much time, Sharky?”

“Uhm… best not to ask,” Sharkboy says anxiously, checking his radar. “The lair of dreams is across the ocean of ice. We’ll have to travel there on foot. What did you see in your dream, Cady? Anything we can use?”

“I saw an object, shaped like… do you have something I can draw with?” Cady asks. Lavagirl holds up one of her fingers and shrugs.

“Sharky, come steer.”

Sharkboy takes hold of the cherry stem to steer their raft, and Lavagirl offers Cady her hand. Cady takes it gently and aims at one of the ice cream scoops. Lavagirl fires a jet of lava from it, letting Cady steer it around.

“A heart?” She asks, tilting her head when Cady finishes. Her eyes go wide when she puts it together. “The crystalheart!”

“It’s the treasure of the kingdom of ice, it can freeze anything!” Sharkboy says excitedly, coming to join them. The raft spins wildly until Lavagirl leaps to grab the cherry stem to keep steering. “Even time.”

“Wow,” Cady breathes. “I’ve only ever dreamt of freezing a moment in time.”

“And, even better,” Sharkboy says. “The ice kingdom is ruled by the ice princess. She’s said to be the most beautiful girl in the world.”

Lavagirl’s jaw drops open indignantly, and she fires some magma at Sharkboy’s bum.

“Ow! What the hell, man?” Sharkboy pouts, rubbing his sore backside.

“She is not! She’s cold and cruel and cares for nobody but herself! And you don’t even like girls,” Lavagirl accuses.

“Cady does!”

“I do?” Cady says in shock. She thinks for a second about her past crushes, and then shrugs. Lavagirl certainly doesn’t look too bad. “Eh, yeah, I probably do. Have you met her, Lavagirl?”

“No,” Lavagirl replies sheepishly. She puffs out her chest before continuing, “But I know we don’t get along! She’s ice. I’m fire. We must be enemies.”

“We need that crystal heart,” Cady says pleadingly. “But I’ll need you both to get it.”

Lavagirl sighs and lets go of the cherry stem. Sharkboy leaps to grab it so they don’t drift away too far. Lavagirl looks out off the edge of the raft and huffs. “I just hope this isn’t a trap.”

—————-

“Wow,” Cady breathes happily, looking around at all the beautiful crystal clear ice and powdery white snow surrounding them. It’s absolutely gorgeous, and clearly very intricate, but the air is barely chilly. Even in her thin flannel, Cady isn’t cold.

They approach a thin bridge, made of solid ice. Cady is a little apprehensive at the height, but carefully steps out onto it. Sharkboy follows. Lavagirl thinks about it, but pauses and hunches in on herself a bit just before she tries.

“I can’t go with you,” she calls. Cady and Sharkboy pause and turn around. “I’ll melt the bridge.”

“Can you chill enough to get across?” Cady asks, reaching a hand for her. Lavagirl looks at her feet, then back at her.

“I’d have to be asleep.”

“Try sleepwalking!” Cady calls to her. “You can do it!”

Lavagirl nods slightly and closes her eyes, shaking out some of the tension in her muscles before warily taking a few steps forward. She mumbles under her breath about… a dream of her own. To live on Earth. Someplace warm. And to be accepted.

“Oh no,” Sharkboy says suddenly, anxiously watching his best friend as she crosses the bridge. “No, Lava, don’t sneeze!”

He runs to block her nose with a finger, and breathes a sigh of relief when she relaxes again. He carefully removes his finger and takes a small step back.

“Achoo!”

Lavagirl sneezes, unleashing a rush of hot wind that blows Sharkboy backwards and off the bridge. He grabs onto it with one hand just before he topples all the way off to a certain doom. Cady runs to help him back up.

“Look,” she says quietly, gesturing to Lavagirl. She’s somehow still upright, but deeply asleep. She’s actually snoring quietly, which is remarkably cute. “She’s sleeping.”

Lavagirl sleepwalks towards them carefully, slowly, but isn’t melting the bridge. Cady watches her with a small smile. Until she looks behind her.

“They found us again,” Cady says, her heart sinking. “Lavagirl, behind yo-“

Sharkboy claps a hand over her mouth before she can finish her sentence. “If you wake her up, she’ll reheat. She can make it.”

Cady nods and clings to his arm in fright. “Come on, Lava.”

Sharkboy holds her back, feeling himself growing more tense. They’re all in danger, and his instincts are demanding he protect his best friend. “Lavagirl, they’re behind you!”

Cady frantically slams a hand over his mouth, and he covers it with his own hands in shame. But it’s too late. Lavagirl opens her eyes and looks behind her, bursting into flame when she sees the hounds closing in.

Cady and Sharkboy both scream in fright and run away, barreling for the other end of the bridge. Lavagirl follows them, the bridge melting and crumbling away beneath her feet as she goes.

“Come on, Lava, hurry!” Sharkboy yells. He and Cady both reach out to help her make it onto the platform holding up the castle, but yelp and quickly pull away as she burns them. They made it.

But the ground beneath them begins to crumble. The three of them whirl around.

“It’s a trap!” Cady yelps, instinctively shoving her friends behind her. A small pit suddenly forms from the ground that’s crumbled away, and Neverbury leaps out at them. Cady furrows her brow in thought. “This can’t be right. Someone-someone else’s dreams are in here.”

That’s the last thought she has before the world goes black.

—-

When she comes to, she’s suspended from the ceiling by a spring over a hole in the ground. Sharkboy is also hanging next to her, and Lavagirl is on the other side with her feet stuck in a block of solid ice.

“Welcome to the dream lair,” an ominous voice says. Ominous but… familiar, somehow. “I am the leader of this planet.”

“No you’re not!” Sharkboy yells, wriggling to try and get down. “Cady is!”

“Cady might have dreamed it originally,” the voice says with an airy titter. The large chair in front of them suddenly rotates to reveal none other than Regina George. “But I’m, like, so much cooler, wouldn’t you say? I… am Requiem.”

“How did you get so much power here?” Cady asks. “This is my world.”

Requiem pulls out a small book and holds it up to show them. Cady gasps in understanding.

“My dream journal! That’s why all my dreams are going wrong! You’re changing it!”

Requiem gives a quiet chuckle and sashays her way down in front of them. Sharkboy gasps and goes into a sort of Superman pose when he spies the tank of electric eels beneath them.

“Shocking, isn’t it Sharkboy?” Requiem hums. “Reminds me of… when an electrical storm blew apart your mother’s research lab.”

Sharkboy stops struggling for a moment and looks at her. “Where is my mother?”

Requiem flips through the journal to see if it says anything, and gives a particularly evil sounding chuckle when she finds the right page. “Check the bottom of the ocean.”

Sharkboy snarls at her and tries to get loose again. Requiem moves to Lavagirl. “And you. Once I figure out how to freeze the core of this planet, all your powers will disappear.”

“I have powers?” Lavagirl asks quietly. “What powers?”

Requiem doesn’t grace her with a response, walking to stand in front of Cady. “And last, but least. You. You thought you could escape fear by running to dreamland, hm? But fear exists in the one place you can never escape.” She hops a few times, and is suddenly floating at Cady’s eye level. “Your mind. I’ll show you the true meaning of fear.

“Anyway, for now, you must all leave. I have dreaming to do. Kisses!”

She blows them a mocking kiss with two fingers before they’re dropped, plummeting through the holes beneath them. Sigmund Freud would love it here, Cady thinks to herself.

——————

They land in a large bird cage. Lavagirl paces back and forth while Sharkboy sits next to Cady on the uncomfortable bricks they have for chairs. “If only I had my journal. Then I could turn everything back to the way it was.”

“My fire is dimming,” Lavagirl says quietly. Sharkboy looks at her sadly. He grabs one of the bars behind him and pulls as hard as he can. Nothing happens.

“My strength is fading too.”

“How much time is left?” Cady asks.

“Who cares?” Lavagirl huffs. “We’re never getting out of here.”

Cady frowns at her, but looks up in confusion when a quiet song can be heard. “That’s freaky.”

“Aww, hi La-La’s,” Sharkboy says, playing with the small bubble creatures. Lavagirl bats them away from her face angrily.

“Where did these come from? They’re so annoying.”

“Don’t listen to her, she’s just mad you’re not made of fire,” Sharkboy comforts the little things.

“They piss me off,” Lavagirl grumbles. “That song. Disturbing. It’s so high!”

“Sing louder. Higher,” Cady encourages them quietly. Lavagirl’s hair is on fire again, and she’s visibly tense. Sharkboy grabs her and pulls her close.

“You don’t want to be too close to her when she erupts,” he says quietly.

“Enough!” Lavagirl yells, firing lava out of both hands at as many La-La’s as she can reach. Inadvertently, she also melts them a way out.

“Nice progress, Lava! Much more control this time,” Sharkboy praises. Lavagirl grins at him sarcastically before she crawls out of the hole she’s made. Sharkboy and Cady follow quickly.

—————

“She’s asleep,” Lavagirl whispers to her friends beneath her. Cady crawls her way back up into the dream lair and tiptoes back over to Requiem. Ever so gently, Cady lifts her journal off of Requiem’s chest. She tiptoes back to her friends, and slides down the pillar holding the lair aloft.

“Okay, first things first,” Cady says, flipping through the pages. “A way out of here.” Suddenly, she finds the perfect page. “Oh, Lavagirl! You have a lava bike!”

“I do?” Lavagirl asks. The bike suddenly materializes next to her and she gives a delighted cackle. “I do!” She eagerly gets on and revs the engine. “Hehe, this is tits!”

“Chill out, babes,” Sharkboy chuckles.

“Even has fuel this time! Now, Sharkboy,” Cady continues, flicking through to another page. She quiets when she reads the first few sentences of it. “Your mother really is at the bottom of the ocean.”

“Oh,” he says quietly. Lavagirl takes his hand and squeezes it gently.

“She’s in a submarine, she’s looking for you! She has been since the storm,” Cady continues, looking up at him with a smile.

“Oh!” He says again. Lavagirl squeezes him one more time and smiles at him too. Sharkboy comes to read over her shoulder to figure out specifics of where it is. “I’ve gotta get back to Earth.”

“What does it say about me?” Lavagirl asks quietly. Cady flicks to yet another page.

“I’m not sure what this is.”

“I can figure it out!” Lavagirl replies, climbing off her bike and running over to them.

“Lavagirl, no, you’ll-“ Cady tries to warn, but it’s too late. Lavagirl grabs the book and turns it to ash. “Burn it.”

Lavagirl stares at her hands in shame. “What have I done?”

“Hey, it’s okay-“

“Why the fuck did you make me out of lava? Why? What fucking good am I?” Lavagirl yells, holding up glowing fists and with her hair on fire yet again. “Look at me! Why, Cady?!”

Cady looks at her sadly, and tries to follow as she storms off, but Sharkboy grabs her shoulder and pulls her back. “Let her cool off a little.”

Cady doesn’t listen, running over to where Lavagirl is sitting on a rock, head in her hands. “All I’ve ever wanted is to be good. I know I can be. I-I can feel it. But I destroy everything I touch.” She turns to Cady with tears in her eyes, boiling away into steam the second they touch her cheeks. “Why-why did you make me like this? I have-I have more potential.”

“I’m sure you do,” Cady says quietly. Lavagirl stands suddenly and turns around to see her.

“And why did you make us a team?” She continues, pointing to Sharkboy. “We’re nothing alike! I fizzle out when I touch water. When he’s near heat, he shrivels. We aren’t compatible!”

“You’re… really on fire,” Cady murmurs sheepishly.

“Yeah. I do that,” Lavagirl huffs. Sharkboy shoots some water at her to put her out. “Thanks, Sharky.” Sharkboy nods.

“No problem.”

“Maybe I really am evil. So far, everything sure looks that way,” Lavagirl murmurs, sitting down again. “Everything else you’ve dreamed has been right. Maybe I do need to learn to accept it.”

“That’s it!” Cady says. “Everything else I’ve dreamt has been right, the crystal heart!”

“We were captured last time,” Lavagirl sniffles.

“Because Requiem doesn’t want me to have it! That must mean it’s important, we must be able to use it to stop her!”

Lavagirl’s face suddenly splits into a wide smile, and she rejoins her companions.

“We have to get back to the ice kingdom!”

“We only have ten minutes left,” Sharkboy says. “We’ll never make it!”

“We can do it!” Cady yells, running off.

“How?!” Sharkboy and Lavagirl yell at the same time as they follow her.

Cady freezes in her tracks and turns back to look at them with a small smirk. “You’re Sharkboy and Lavagirl. You can do anything.”

—————

“This way,” Cady says, beckoning Sharkboy and Lavagirl over to a sort of slide into the ice palace.

“You had to pick ice?” Lavagirl grumbles.

“Hey, Kenya is really hot,” Cady defends. “Not my fault that’s where I wound up. I’m sure if my parents were studying penguins we’d be somewhere hot and you’d be having a better time right now.”

Lavagirl just crosses her arms and pouts. She’s remarkably precious, for a girl made of fire. Cady chuckles before turning back around, stopping just in time to avoid crashing face first into a tall ice pillar. Sharkboy is already looking up at the large heart shaped crystal floating above it.

“Is that what you saw, Cades?”

“Uhhuh,” Cady nods. “You’ll have to climb up there and get it. But it’s as delicate as a snowflake, so don’t drop it. And don’t touch it or you’ll freeze, use your claws.”

“Got it,” Sharkboy says, using his claws as a sort of ice pick to climb up the ice pillar. He makes it rapidly up the tower, but as he’s reaching for it, he loses his grip and slides back down. He ends up dangling from his fin a few feet off the ground. “You’re up.”

“Lava, can-“ Cady asks. Lavagirl raises an eyebrow at her. “Er… nevermind. Chew on some ice, it’ll help you cool off a bit.”

Lavagirl looks confused when Cady hands her a chunk of ice, but gnaws a bit off with her molars. “Hmm.”

Sharkboy removes his claw gloves and hands them to Cady to climb the pillar herself. It’s slower going for her, but she finds enough hand and footholds to make it to the top. Carefully, she puts on the gloves and reaches out.

“Hey, nice job, Cady!” Sharkboy calls up at her when she grabs it. Just then, he slips, and the crack caused by his fin splits the whole tower in two. It crumbles beneath Cady and she’s forced to drop the heart to save herself.

“I got it!” Lavagirl yells, lunging to grab it before it can hit the ground. She makes it, but is immediately frozen into a solid block of ice.

“Lavagirl!” Cady yells, sliding down what she has left to hold and helping Sharkboy out. She knocks carefully on Lavagirl’s forehead. “She’s frozen solid.”

Just then, a creaky rumbling echoes throughout the cavern as several ice golems rise from the ground and come to life. One with a large club looms over them threateningly and escorts them to a different room.

Once they arrive, they’re roughly shoved to the ground with a command to, “Kneel before the ice princesses.”

Princesses? Cady thinks. There’s more than one?

Sure enough, two girls in white dresses come out onto what appears to be a small stage, hand in hand. They look familiar too. An uncanny resemblance to Regina’s little minions back on Earth.

“You try to steal our crystal heart,” the one on the left asks gently. “Why?”

Cady is too distracted staring at the both of them to hear her. Why are they here? Sharboy nudges her gently to get her back into the moment. “Oh! Uh, we believe it can stop time. Long enough for us to defeat Requiem.”

“Our crystal heart cannot help you,” the other one says. “Only the two of us have the power to use it.”

“Then you can come with us!” Cady says.

“They cannot leave this castle. The crystal is the only thing that protects our kingdom,” one of the ice golems says.

“Please, princesses, we’re running out of time,” Cady begs.

“Perhaps we could… give it to you?” The first princess says. “But are you worthy to wield it?”

“I think so!” Cady chirps. “I hope so.”

“The crystal you stole was a decoy,” the second one says. A rumbling noise sounds off behind them, and several more ice pillars rise from the ground. “The real one is somewhere in this room. Choose the correct one, and you may take it with you.”

Cady and Sharkboy both turn around and look at all the crystal hearts glimmering above them. Sharkboy points to the one nearest them. “That one looks nice, pick that one.”

But Cady shakes her head and turns back to the princesses. “It’s around your hands. Tying you together.”

Sure enough, the gem dangling from what Cady originally thought to be a simple bracelet gives a magical glimmer, and the princesses give her a kind smile. She heads to stand before them politely.

“How’d you know?” Sharkboy asks in awe.

“Saw it in a dream,” Cady murmurs.

“Be aware, Cady,” the first princess says, more serious this time. They gently remove the necklace they had looped around their entwined hands and rest it in the palm of Cady’s. “If anything happens to the crystal heart, our entire kingdom will be destroyed.”

“I won’t let anything happen to it,” Cady says bravely. “I promise.”

“The crystal will now work, but we must stay here,” the second one says. “Good luck.”

And with that, they’re all tossed from the palace onto the frozen sea of confusion. Sharkboy and Cady have no choice but to push a still-frozen Lavagirl to their destination themselves.

—-

“We’re almost back to the dream lair!” Cady yells when she has it in her sights. “How much time do we have?!”

“Uh… we’re out of time!” Sharkboy yells back. “Ten seconds!”

Cady stops Lavagirl and hops off, standing on the frozen sea. She holds the crystal heart aloft. “Here goes nothing.”

The crystal gives a promising glimmer, but then… everything goes dark. Including the crystal.

“What happened?”

Sharkboy shrugs. “It didn’t work.”

“How could it not work?”

Suddenly, a crunching noise can be heard as Lavagirl finally frees herself from her ice cocoon. “Only the ice princesses can use it. I was trying to tell you.”

“There’s nothing,” Sharkboy says, staring at his shark radar. “No readings, no nothing.”

Suddenly, a small crack forms in the ice, revealing a melted chasm. Neverbury’s cackling laughter can be heard.

“Sharkboy, no!” Lavagirl says. “She’s baiting you.”

Sharkboy tenses, and clenches his jaw. “I can’t… resist my instincts!”

Before either of them can react, stop him, Sharkboy dives into the water in front of them and swims rapidly to the other side. Neverbury stands ominously above him. Sharkboy tilts his head in confusion as she tries to make a poorly timed electrical joke.

“Oh, fuck it,” Neverbury huffs. “Electric eels, eat up.”

“Sharky, no!” Lavagirl yells, lunging for him. Cady grabs her to hold her back. “Swim away! Run!”

Sharkboy tries, swimming as fast as he possibly can. But the eels are faster, and quickly surround him. Cady and Lavagirl watch in horror as he suddenly goes limp and sinks to the bottom.

“No!” Cady says, trying to touch the water. It’s still electrified, the current nearly melting off the rubber sole of her shoe. “Can-can he survive down there?”

“He can hold his breath,” Lavagirl replies, staring hollowly at the water. “But not forever. He’ll drown if I don’t save him.”

“No, I can’t let you go,” Cady says with a sob, clinging to her arm. “You’ll die too.”

Lavagirl turns to look at her, gently cupping her cheek with a warm hand and kissing her. She pulls away before Cady has time to process what’s happening. “He’s my best friend. I have to. We love you.”

With that, she turns back and dives into the water, swimming down to Sharkboy on the sea floor. Cady watches as she grabs him by a hand and hauls him back up to the surface. Cady helps lift them both back onto the shore.

“Sharkboy?” Cady asks frantically, trying to shake him awake. “Wake up, please! Come on, please, please please.”

She’s so distracted with Sharkboy that she doesn’t notice Lavagirl crawling away from the water before collapsing. She’s not breathing, and her fire has been extinguished.

Cady whirls around when she hears a rattling breath, and finds Lavagirl’s lifeless form. “No, no, no, Lavagirl, please! Not both of you!”

Neither of them wake. Cady frantically shakes them, crying harder than she thinks she ever has, but to no avail.

“I can’t do this without you!” She sobs. “What am I supposed to do now?”

Suddenly, the disembodied face and voice of Tobor appears. “What do you think you should do, child?”

“Dr-dream… a better dream,” Cady whimpers, holding the lifeless hands of both her friends.

“Interesting,” Tobor says kindly. “Explain.”

“I wanted all my dreams to come true,” Cady sniffles. “But… I only dreamed for myself. This whole place only exists because I wanted to escape my real world. But I should’ve dreamed to make my real world a better place. Selfish dreams shouldn’t come true.”

“You’re becoming a very good dreamer, Cady,” Tobor says. “You always were, monkey. Get it back.”

“What do you do?” Cady asks hollowly. “When your dreams have been destroyed?”

“Dream a better dream,” Tobor replies. “An unselfish dream. You can do it. I believe in you, monkey.”

“I love you,” Cady says as Tobor floats away. She never thought she’d hear her brother call her ‘monkey’ again. She needs to say it. Tobor winks at her, and then he’s out of sight.

Cady takes a deep breath, and squeezes both of the hands in her own. “Dream a better dream.”

Sharkboy suddenly snaps awake next to her, coughing some water out of his lungs. Cady tips him onto his side and pats his back to help. He looks at her thankfully before crawling over to Lavagirl.

“She knew this would happen,” Cady murmurs. “If she saved you. I couldn’t stop her.”

Sharkboy nods sadly, taking Lavagirl’s hand. It’s cool to the touch, for the first time since their creation. Suddenly, a bright light is visible from behind them. Sharkboy and Cady turn around to see Lavagirl’s volcano home glowing brightly.

“Lava,” Cady breathes. “We have to get her there.”

“I’ll go,” Sharkboy says. Cady grabs his arm to stop him. “I’m stronger, and faster.”

“No, I can’t let you go again. You’ll burn up,” she says desperately.

Sharkboy doesn’t listen, cradling Lavagirl’s body in his arms. “Are you sure this will save her?”

“It’ll do more than save her,” Cady agrees quietly. They have a stronger bond than they’ll ever have with her. She knows she can’t stop him now. She blinks, and Sharkboy is gone. She can faintly see a blue and pink blur running at inhuman speeds towards the volcano. Cady hunches in on herself and says a little prayer.

“I know who you are now, Lavagirl. You are not fire, or a simple flame. You are greater than that. Something more important, and so necessary. That is why you have to live. You are not destruction. You are not evil.”

Cady winces as she sees Sharkboy chuck Lavagirl into the mouth of the volcano, and watches in horror as he’s thrown back by the force of the eruption once she makes contact.

But then, she sees Lavagirl standing where he just was, and watches her hands suddenly glow bright like beacons.

“You are light.”

Cady closes her eyes as a bright glow rushes over her. Lavagirl has realized her true power. And so has Cady.

“Holy shit!” Sharkboy screams when she suddenly appears beside him. He holds a hand over his heart as he tries to get his breath back. “How-how did you get here so quick?”

Cady doesn’t answer that. “Hold off Neverbury. I’m off to deal with Requiem.”

“I’ll need my fish army,” Sharkboy says. Cady turns to look at the frozen ocean they were just on.

“I’ll unfreeze the ocean.” With a snap of her fingers, it’s done. “Good luck. I love you both.”

“I’ve become what you feared most,” Cady murmurs to Requiem’s turned back. “Requiem.”

Requiem whirls around in surprise. “How’d you get in here?”

“I’m the day dreamer,” Cady replies. “Able to dream with my eyes open.”

“Hate to burst your bubble here, dream girl, but I’ve read your little book,” Requiem says. “There’s not one dream you have that I haven’t already seen. So what do you say? Let’s blow the roof off this place.” She raises her arms, and suddenly they’re on what appears to be a battlefield. “May the best dream win.”

She sticks out a hand towards Cady, releasing a wave of piranhas. Cady winds up and sticks out her own hand, releasing a wave of…

“Bubbles? Come on,” she whispers. But, as the bubbles make contact with the chomping fish, they’re suddenly trapped inside and carried off with the wind. “Oh. I guess that worked.”

She winds up again, and blows a wave of butterflies towards Requiem. Requiem unleashes her own swarm of wasps.

“Wait!” Cady yells. All the bugs suddenly disappear. She puts a finger to her temple and closes her eyes. “Brain storm.”

Requiem looks at her in confusion before she puts the pieces together and looks up in horror. “Eww!”

Brains splat down to the ground all around her, and she puts her arms up to protect her head from the falling craniums. She screams when one lands in her hands and throws it as far as she can, wiping off the fluid on her cape.

“Brain… freeze!” She yells, lifting her arms to the sky. All the brains raining down pause in place before landing in the ground in a single sheet.

“Brain.. fart,” Cady replies with a giggle. Requiem’s head suddenly swells to roughly one hundred times the size it’s meant to be, and she leans from side to side in a ditch attempt to keep her balance. Before she knows it, she’s completely upside down resting on top of her hand. “Nice headstand!”

Requiem’s head deflates, and she lands back on her feet. She looks at Cady and gives her a quiet chuckle. “You’re afraid of me, aren’t you?”

Cady watches in horror as she moves her hands down her sides in a quick motion, and suddenly rockets off into the sky on a stone tower. Cady repeats the motion and rises to the same height on a pillar of her own.

“I used to be,” she says quietly. “But now I understand. Someone ruined your dreams, and now all you can do is ruin everyone else’s.”

Requiem scowls at her, and sends her tower even higher. Cady follows again. The air is getting a bit thin up here. Hopefully she won’t have to go any higher.

“We can create a better dream than this,” Cady pleads. “A better world. Don’t you see?” She snaps her fingers, and a makeshift bridge suddenly appears between each of their towers. Cady carefully walks halfway across it and reaches out a hand. “What do you say? Regina?”

Regina looks at her in shock for a moment, but slowly joins her on the bridge. She looks at her own hand, before inching it toward’s Cady’s.

Just before they touch, a creaking can be heard and the bridge gives way beneath them. Cady uses her day dreamer powers to sort of float, rushing quickly after Regina.

“Don’t let me fall!” Regina screams, covering her face so as not to see her rapidly approaching doom. Cady grabs her wrist and floats them gently to the dream lair.

“Wouldn’t dream of it. Don’t ruin people’s dreams, Regina. Because you ruin your own, too. And then you’ll stop believing.”

Cady is suddenly tackled to the soft ground from behind. She screams, but looks up just in time to see Lavagirl before their lips are slammed together. Her warmth is back.

“Cady,” Lavagirl whispers against her lips. “I am light. Thank you.”

“You always were,” Cady replies, holding Lavagirl’s hips as she straddles her. “Nothing to do with me.”

Lavagirl kisses her again. “But now I know. So thank you.”

“Big deal,” Sharkboy teases. “The real news is what I am!”

“A pain in the ass?” Lavagirl asks, finally standing and helping Cady up.

“I’m king of the ocean!”

Cady giggles at their bickering.

“Yeah, yeah. Thanks for saving me,” Lavagirl says quietly, leaning in to kiss his cheek. There’s a quiet sizzle and flash of light when she makes contact.

“Ouch,” Sharkboy says, rubbing his cheek. At least he’s smiling.

“Everything will return to the way it was,” Regina says from behind them, joining the conversation. “You will be able to travel to Earth and back again as you wish.” She gestures to Sharkboy. “You can search for your mother.” To Lavagirl. “You can rule Earth’s lava realm.”

“And just what am I supposed to do?” Neverbury asks, appearing out of nowhere. “Now that you’re all… buddy buddy.”

“You can go back to being the good guardian of the planet,” Regina replies.

Neverbury cackles. “Oh, really? Keeping everything running? Making sure this loud, obnoxious world is a happy place?”

“Hey!” Cady says sadly.

“You’re dreaming.” Neverbury chuckles.

“I dreamt you,” Cady says boldly, letting go of Lavagirl’s hand and puffing out her chest at Neverbury. “And I can un-dream you.”

“You think you can just snap your eyes open and make me vanish?” Neverbury threatens. “Not so easy. I am the danger of dreaming. For every person who dreams up the lightbulb, there’s the one who dreams up the atom bomb. This is one dream you won’t be waking up from. I’m gonna put an end to this ridiculous tangent at it’s source.”

With that, she takes off towards Earth. Cady yelps and leaps out of the way. “Where did she go?”

“She’s headed to Earth,” Sharkboy says, tracking her on his radar.

“She’s going to try to destroy you in your sleep,” Regina says.

“In my sleep?” Cady asks quietly. “You mean I’m asleep?! All this time I’ve been asleep?!”

“No,” Lavagirl says calmly, coming over to her. “You’re dreaming, Cady.”

“With your eyes open,” Sharkboy adds.

“Make the dream real,” Lavagirl says, taking her hand again. “And you can live out your dreams on Earth. Just like you made us real.”

“Make it real,” Sharkboy commands gently. “You can do it.”

“Blink three times,” Lavagirl murmurs, gently cupping Cady’s face in her hot hands. “One.”

Cady listens. “Wait, but-“

“Two,” Sharkboy says. Cady blinks again.

“Will I ever see you again?”

Lavagirl kisses her one more time before letting her go. “Three.”

Cady blinks.

——

When she opens her eyes, she’s back on Earth, huddled under her desk in the science room. The teacher is trying to gather everyone to head to shelter from the storm, with the help of Ms. Norbury.

Ms. Norbury lifts the desk off of Cady. “Cady, get up! There’s a tornado heading our way!”

Cady scrambles to her feet and dusts herself off. “It’s not a tornado!” She yells over the gusts of the wind. “It’s worse!”

“Regina, wake up,” Ms. Norbury commands, tapping Regina at her desk. Regina snaps awake and winces at the large puddle of drool coating her desk. Gross.

Cady leads them to the gaping hole in the wall, created by Sharkboy and Lavagirl. That was a mere moment ago, but it feels like years. “Look!”

The tornado barreling towards them suddenly begins sparking, and Neverbury emerges from the cyclone before it dissipates into a simple thunderstorm.

“It’s Ms. Neverbury, from planet Drool! The one from my dreams!” Cady explains.

Ms. Norbury and the science teacher both look at it in confusion. “You mean… this is real? Your dreams are real?”

“Some dreams are so powerful they become real,” Cady says.

“I don’t believe it,” Ms. Norbury says.

“It’s literally right there!” Cady yells.

“No, yeah, I can see that!” Norbury replies. “What I can’t believe is… you dreamt me! As a big, round bad guy!”

“Sorry!” Cady says. “Kinda took on a life of its own!”

Ms. Norbury sighs before turning to the class, watching in horror as the storms grow again and Neverbury looms ominously just outside.

“Okay class, we’re just teachers,” Cady’s science teacher says. “And we are here to inspire the answers in you! And there’s some damn good inspiration outside. So, this is now a pop quiz. We need to defeat that lady! Any ideas?!”

Regina raises her hand, surprising everyone.

“Wow, Regina. Yes?��

“I can take her,” Regina says boldly, running outside.

“No, you can’t!” Cady yells, grabbing her hand and pulling her back in. “Not by yourself. We need another idea.”

“No dumb ideas, come on,” Ms. Norbury says.

“Maybe we can freeze her circuits,” Regina suggests.

“That’s literally the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard,” Ms. Norbury replies. “We’re in Illinois in August. Next?”

“No, that might work!” Cady says. “Regina, where are your friends?”

“Gretchen and Karen?”

“Yeah, where are they?”

“Uh… English, I think?” Regina says with a shrug.

“Then come on!” Cady yells, grabbing her hand and hauling her out the door. The English wing is on the other side of the school.

“I am in heels!” Regina yells.

“Take them off, then! This is kind of an emergency!” Cady yells back, breaking ahead. Regina pauses to snatch her shoes off before barreling after her.

The teacher looks up in shock as a very disheveled Cady and Regina suddenly slam the door open. Cady points at them and pants, “We need… Gretchen and… and Karen.”

They already seem to have known this was coming, and stand to join them. Regina says, “Take off your shoes now, save yourselves. Just come on.”

When they make it back to the science room, Cady reaches into her pocket.

“Those jeans are horrific, by the way,” Regina says. Cady waves her off as she pulls out the crystal heart.

“Is this yours?” Cady asks, holding it up to show Gretchen and Karen. They both look at it and each other in shock.

“I’ve only seen it in my dreams,” Karen says quietly, gently running a finger over it.

“Me too,” Gretchen murmurs.

“It can freeze anything,” Cady murmurs, looping it gently around their intertwined hands and fastening it.

“Even time,” they both say at the same time before looking at each other with a small smile.

“Let them out,” Cady commands. Everyone parts like the Red Sea to make way for them to get outside. “Do you know what to do?”

“Yes,” they say. “Stand back.”

Cady watches with a smile as they approach Neverbury casually and each hold up a hand. They still hold each other with one, and fire a beam of ice at Neverbury with the other. Neverbury freezes solid, and then shatters. Snow begins to fall around them.

Everyone cheers and runs outside to play in the magical snow, except for Cady.

“You’ve made me a great teacher today, Cady,” Ms. Norbury says.

“How did I do that?” Cady asks. “I punched a hole in the school.”

“A good teacher learns as much from her students as they learn from her,” Ms. Norbury explains. “You’ve awakened something in me. That being said, I’m going to start looking into a different career.”

“I don’t blame you,” Cady chuckles, before Ms. Norbury pushes her outside to join her peers. Cady heads out aimlessly, not really knowing who to join. Until she sees Sharkboy and Lavagirl standing with her parents. “Sharkboy! Lavagirl!”

“Hey!” They both say. Lavagirl catches Cady as she barrels into her and slams their lips together.

“Oh, um…” Cady says sheepishly when they break apart. “Mom, Dad, I’m bi.”

“After today, we’re just glad you’re alive,” her dad chuckles, ruffling her hair. Cady throws her arms around both of them, and smiles as they squeeze her tightly. They feel like a family for the first time in years.

—————-

epilogue

“The following story is true,” Cady begins. “It may have began as a dream, but as we all saw last month, when you let your dreams become reality, reality becomes a dream.

“Sharkboy and Lavagirl both live here now. Sharkboy rules the ocean as king, and is searching for his mother. He says his instincts tell him he’s getting closer every second, so he’ll find her soon. And Lavagirl lives with me. We just have to keep the heat on max.”

That gets a chuckle from everyone.

“She gets to live her dream too, don’t worry. She rules all of Earth’s volcanos, a source of light and life for all of us. Just from a distance. So… so she can be with me. My advice to you all is… dream your best dreams. Then work to make them real.”

The end.

---

hope you enjoyed!

I'm sorry it wasn't the most romantic, but i did my best to make it fit with the story. we'll be back on earth next week :))

thanks for reading!

lots of love,

ezzy

#cadnis #space safari #paint by numbers #cady heron x janis sarkisian #cady x janis #cady heron #damian hubbard #janis sarkisian #mean girls #mean girls musical #mean girls the musical #mean girls broadway #mean girls on broadway #regina george #gretchen wieners #karen smith

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immabethehero · 4 years

Text

Schneeplestein Apparently Has a Heart

The good doctor’s birthday is here and of course I wrote a story! Just warning, this story is quite dark. Read the trigger warnings below.

TW: Suicide attempt by gunshot (not seen, just implied), suicidal thoughts and words, extreme distress, minor violence, blood mentioned.

For the short amount of time that Jackieboy Man and Marvin the Magnificent have lived with Dr. Henrik Nicholas von Schneeplestein, MD, PhD, MVP, FFS, they have learned a few important lessons, or rules:

NEVER, under any circumstances, touch the top left cupboard on the outside of the kitchen opening. That’s where Schneep’s coffee supply is, and if you touch it, even ONCE, Schneep will be out for your blood.

UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES should you mention Schneep’s wife, Lisette Schneeplestein. Apparently, the French brunette whom Schneep has been married to for the past 7 years has fucked off (Schneep’s words) back to France with her tennis instructor, Rick, short for Ricardo (Italian, apparently) and taken their two daughters with her. (Schneep has cleaned out Lisette and the girls’ rooms, and all the belongings they have left behind, in their efforts to leave so quickly, are packed away in storage containers in the garage. Schneep has yet to mail them to Lisette’s new address.)

DO NOT wake Schneep earlier than 10 AM in the morning if it’s his one day off. Despite having an early bird’s job, Schneep is not a morning person. Another reason why Schneep is dependent on coffee.

UNLESS it is an emergency, no one but Schneep is allowed in his office. As there are so many things to keep track of, and so many papers that could easily be misplaced, it is best not to touch, or even go inside the office, lest you want to throw the doctor off his game or have the doctor throw you off a cliff.

Despite these four unspoken yet very specific rules, Marvin and Jackie have learned one more this past month: despite the doctor’s arrogant, haughty, snappy, disgusting, even FERAL demeanour, he truly is a good person.

It just took a new ego to show them that.

March 30th, 2017. Schneep’s mail has been unceremoniously thrown onto the dining room table. Schneep’s hands, long and graceful, slide through the envelopes and fliers, organizing them into piles, from taxes and business inquiries to subscriptions and sales.

Jackie lazily eats his cereal, watching Schneep sort through the mail like a madman. Geez, just how popular is this guy?! It’s almost as wild as Jack’s mail. At least there’s more interesting stuff for Jack... drawings, letters of encouragement and thanks, even the rare crocheted or sculpted gift.

Schneep freezes when he comes across a particular letter, one with a cutesy pin cupcake logo. His eyes grow solemn as he picks it up and shakily opens it. Jackie cocks his head.

“Something wrong, doctor?” he asks lightly.

Schneep looks up. “Hm? Oh!” He sighs. “It’s from a baking class Sophia and I used to take together. Lisette had insisted I learn how to cook as well, so it wouldn’t always be her making the meals, and she figured it would be good bonding for me and Sophia. Soph loved those classes. We’d learn all sorts of fascinating recipes and bring the results home. They were fun, and very sweet.”

Jackie nods seriously. He knows he should leave it there, but something’s confusing him. “It’s been quite a few months since you stopped going. Why are they sending you stuff now?”

Schneep unfolds the letter. As he reads it, his eyes widen and a smile begins curling at his lips.

Somehow, that only makes more questions. “What…?”

“It’s not the company themself, it’s Chase! He was a friend from the classes! I haven’t spoken to him in forever! He’s such a lovely person, it’d be nice to see him again!” Schneep grabs his phone and hastily types in the number at the bottom of the letter. He squeals and runs off, like a teenager who just got a text from their crush.

The letter lies on the table, open for all to read. Jackie knows better than to pry into other people’s lives, but this letter is wide open, and it’s not like Schneep needs to know, so the superhero leans over and reads.

Hey Henrik,

This is probably weird to get, but I lost your phone number and I don’t know what your address is, so I asked the dudes at the baking class if I could send a letter to you via their services.

It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other, and I thought I’d better check in and see how you’re doing, see how bachelor life is treating you. Stacy and the kids miss seeing you as well. I wanna talk to you again.

My cell is #1273-545-8903.

Hope to see you soon!

Chase Brody

Chase Brody. That sounds like an American to Jackie’s ears. He does seem like a good person, if Schneep’s reaction wasn’t enough. He must have been a friend for Schneep when the doctor went through his divorce.

The name itself sounds familiar, like a local celebrity or something. Jackie makes a mental note to look it up later. He leans back and finishes his cereal just as Schneep comes back, holding his phone out. Marvin finally emerges, his green hair resembling a rat’s nest, and no mask. Jackie takes pride in the fact that Marvin now feels comfortable enough to show his face in front of Schneep and Jackie.

“Well, change of plans, I won’t be able to come home in time for dinner with you guys,” Schneep announces. Jackie nods.

“Wait what? Why?” Marvin slurs, slumping down at the dining room table.

“I’m going to see Chase after my shift today. We agreed to meet in the park,” Schneep explains curtly, and leaves.

“Did I miss something?” Marvin asks, turning to Jackie. Jackie nods down to the letter. Marvin leans over to read, only for the letter to be snatched up by the doctor.

“Who said you could go through my stuff?!” Schneep snapped. He stormed off, letter clutched firmly in his hand. Marvin sneers at Jackie, who only shrugs and winks. The magician rolls his eyes, but he understands. A shrug and a wink means I’ll tell you later.

Schneep throws on his brown coat and grabs his bag. “Have a nice day, boys. If I don’t see you later tonight, sweet dreams and I’ll see you in the morning.” He flies out, coat flapping behind him.

“He’s gotta show me how he rocks an overcoat so well. I’m jealous of the way he holds himself. So professional,” Marvin remarks. He quickly turns to Jackie. “Spill the tea.”

“Schneep’s meeting an old friend from a baking class he used to take with his daughter,” Jackie says. “His name is Chase Brody. The name sounds so familiar to me, and I don’t know why.”

“Look it up on your phone,” Marvin suggests. Jackie does just that.

Immediately, Wikipedia comes to the egos’ rescue. Chase Brody, (born April 11th, 1988) is an American-Irish Youtuber who is best known for his Youtube channel, Bro Average. As of February 2017, his channel has over 20 million views and over 10 million subscribers.

“Oh yeah, the trickshot vlogger!” Jackie says. “I like watching his stuff, he’s a funny dude.”

Marvin nods. “He must have kids as well. He wouldn’t be taking classes if he didn’t.”

Jackie scrolls down to Personal Life. “‘Chase is married to Stacy Matthews, and they have three children as of 2017, two biological twins, and one recently adopted daughter.’” The selfie provided shows a man with fair skin and bright blue eyes standing next to a red-headed lady doing a duckface.

“Hm. Sounds like he’s living the good life,” Marvin says. “A well-paid job, a nice family, a happy life.”

Boy, is he wrong.

At 5 PM exactly, Schneep sits at the bench by the great oak tree, waiting for Chase. He wraps his blue and navy scarf tighter around his neck as a cool breeze whisks by. Despite what the weather people promised, Athlone is nowhere near warm, despite it being spring. He examines the park-goers who walk by, picking up on every accident that could occur.

Parents swinging their child up and down: a broken arm, arms could pull out of their sockets, or the child could fall on their head and get a concussion. Or worse, permanent brain injuries.

Kids climbing trees: Another chance to fall and hit their tiny heads and sustain brain damage, if not that, broken limbs and splinters.

Teenagers skateboarding: more broken bones and limbs, but at least SOME are smart enough to put pads and helmets on. Others have no chance of recovering fully from brain damage or concussions should they fall on their heads-

“Henrik!” Henrik snaps to life and looks around. A man wearing a puffy black jacket, torn jeans and a snapback with a pink skull on it runs over to him. Schneep stands up.

“Chase Brody! Wie geht es dir mein freund?” Schneep cries out in delight, holding his arms out. Chase happily throws himself into them.

“I’m doing as well as I can, at least. It’s so good to see your face,” Chase sighs. He nuzzles Henrik’s hair, taking in the sanitizer and mint smell he’s gotten used to. “I’ve missed you.”

“The feeling is mutual,” Schneep says. “Come, sit down next to me! Tell me how things have been. How are Stacy and your kids? Has Chloe adjusted to the new timezone yet?” Chloe is Chase’s recently adopted daughter from China. Schneep’s last visit with the Brody��s involved meeting her.

Chase’s smile fades and he sits down next to Schneep. “Um…”

Schneep’s stomach sinks. “That’s never good. What happened? Who died?!”

“Calm down, Henrik!” Chase exclaims. “No one died! Everyone’s fine. Chloe’s adjusted quite nicely.”

“Then why do you look so sad?!” Schneep cries.

Chase fidgets with his jacket zipper, mumbling incomprehensibly. Henrik leans closer. “Didn’t catch that.”

“StacyandIaregettingadivorce,” Chase whispers. Schneep’s stomach flips and sinks.

“What?”

“Stacy and I are getting divorced,” Chase repeats, louder now. “She said she still loves me, but not quite in a… romantic way, I guess. She wants us to just be friends.”

“Well, at least she still wants to be on friendly terms, I guess!” Schneep says. “Still, I can’t believe it… you two were such a sweet couple… so in love…”

“There’s another reason why she wants a divorce,” Chase admits. Schneep’s eyes turn wide as saucers.

“She’s seeing someone. An old friend from high school. I’ve seen her texts,” Chase says. He scrunches up the end of his shirt, nose wrinkling. Schneep hears him sniff.

“I don’t know how long it’s gone on… and I know she didn’t mean to… but still…” Chase finally looks up, eyes tearing. “How could she do that? I would have been okay with it! Maybe. I don’t know!” Chase buries his face in his hands.

Schneep pats Chase’s shoulder gently. He can’t believe Stacy cheated! She and Chase were such a romantic couple! They seemed so happy! Why would Stacy throw that all away for some whore? “What a bitch…”

Chase suddenly whacks Schneep’s hand off, eyes fierce. “Don’t call her that! It’s not like that! At least she still wants me in her life! She’s not like Lisette!” An awkward silence fills the air.

Chase gasps. “Henrik, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it that way-”

“Oh!” Schneep cries. “It’s fine! It’s no big deal!” Yeah, that was a low blow, but he would rather Chase doesn’t end up like him: cranky, alienating, friendless, alone. He needs a friend more than ever.

“No it’s not, I just sunk really low! You must be furious-”

“I’m not, I promise!” He’s not, surprisingly. Is this growth?! What the fuck?!

“I need to control myself better. I’m a grownup, for fuck’s sake, I should know better…” Chase moans, burrowing his head in his hands again.

“Chase!” Schneep exclaims. “You mustn’t beat yourself up like that! You’re one of my very best friends, which isn’t saying much because I don’t have any, but still! You have to be one of the nicest people I know! You’re anything but a dick!”

“I feel like you’re just saying that to make me feel better,” Chase mumbles, rubbing his eyes.

“I’m not, I swear !” Schneep says.

“I’m sorry, Henrik, I really am,” Chase says.

“I forgive you,” Schneep says, and means it. “I’m serious.”

“I should go,” Chase decides, standing. Schneep gets up as well.

“What? No! I’m not mad!” he protests.

“It’s my turn to pick the kids up,” Chase snaps. “I’ll see you around, Henrik. Sorry I can’t stay long.” He briskly runs off.

Schneeplestein yells and kicks the bench. “FUCK! FUCK! AAAHHH!!!”

Other park visitors turn in confusion, watching the strange man kick the bench and scream.

Schneep freezes when he notices everyone staring at him. He storms back to his car, slams the door shut and continues his screaming.

Once Schneep has finished “releasing his anger” (Jackie’s words, not his) he “reflects on the situation” (also Jackie’s words). What could he do to make Chase feel better?

He stays in the car for an hour, letting the world pass by as he thinks. By the time the sun has set, he has an idea.

Jackie and Marvin glare at each other from across the hall. Sirius the cat has hidden, choosing not to get involved. The little pegs in the cribbage board are neck-in-neck, both pegs exactly 4 steps away from the end hole. The egos stare at their cards.

“Four,” Jackie announces, putting the card down.

“Fourteen,” Marvin says.

The door flies open and Schneep rushes in, hair windswept and out of breath. “Where’s Jack?!” he demands.

“Out in his universe,” Jackie responds. “Fifteen for two!” He puts down an ace.

“Sixteen for two!” Marvin slams the ace down, looking triumphant. Jackie flips him off.

“When will he visit?!” Schneep questions.

“When he wishes,” Jackie responds. “Twenty-five!”

“How can I contact him?!”

“Why are you so interested?!” Marvin asks. “Thirty-one, bitch!” He flips Jackie off.

“I have a request for him!” Schneep responds curtly.

“What kind?” Jackie asks.

“It’s for a friend,” Schneep brushes him off, heading to his lab.

“Chase Brody?” Marvin guesses. Jackie kicks him.

Schneep turns around. “What did you say?”

Marvin gulps. “You left your letter on the table for me to read. I was fast enough to catch the gist before you snatched it up. So how is Chase Brody?”

Schneep growls softly and walks back to the table. Marvin sits up with his head held high, bracing himself for the punishment. No matter what Schneep does, slugging, kicking, ruining his hair, the magician can take it. He’s been through worse.

To Marvin and Jackie’s surprise, Schneep pulls up a chair and sits down. The doctor takes a deep breath. “Chase Brody is divorcing his wife. That’s all I’m going to say.”

Jackie and Marvin nod in understanding. “That’s sad to hear,” Jackie remarks, solemnly.

“But how’s talking to Jack going to help?” Marvin queries.

“I want him to make a video for Chase,” Schneep says. “If this so-called community exists, I want to see them show their love for Chase! It’s the least he deserves!”

Marvin and Jackie catch each other’s gaze. Schneep glares at Jackie expectantly.

“Well? You’ve lived with Jack the longest. How do you contact him?!” Schneep demands.

“I have his number in case of emergencies, but I’ve never had a reason to call him! I don’t even know if he’s available,” Jackie explains.

“He has to be. What else does a man who plays video games for a living do?!” Schneep snaps, incredulous. “It’s not like he has to be places or anything!” He looms over Jackie, a desperate, pleading look in his eyes. Jackie nearly topples out of his chair.

“I guess I could give it a shot,” the superhero mumbles.

Schneep squeals in delight and wraps his arms tightly around Jackie in what Jackie assumes to be a hug. The superhero pats the doctor’s arms, taken aback by his strength.

After a few sickeningly sweet seconds, Marvin pipes up, “Uh, doc? I think Jackie needs to be able to breathe in order to call Jack.”

Sheepishly, Schneeplestein lets Jackie go. The superhero gulps in big gasps of air, before grabbing his phone and dialing Jack’s number.

A day later, Jack McLoughlin sits at the egos’ dining room table, chomping away on mashed potatoes and a juicy steak.

“My goodness, you never told me what a good chef you were, Schneep!” he sighs in ecstasy.

Schneep bows his head, face glowing red. Jackie raises an eyebrow. Schneep almost NEVER blushes when given a compliment. It’s strange to see the doctor act so shy and humble around someone, especially Jack. It feels like only yesterday Schneep was bombarding Jack with questions about where he came from and how the alternate universe worked. Since that day, Jack has quickly risen to become one of Schneep’s favourite people on the planet. Not that Jackie is jealous or anything…

“Just a little recipe I learned for my wife…” Schneep mutters, playing with the end of his lab coat. Across the table, Marvin snickers lightly, watching the doctor fumble for words. Finally, some entertainment!

“So, what was the call for?” Jack asks. “Just wanted to say hi?” His expression darkens. “Is it Anti? What did he do?!”

“It’s not Anti. We haven’t heard from him for a while!” Jackie says. Jack sighs in relief.

“I mean, I know I made that video for PAX and all but I just wanted to make sure,” Jack says.

“You made an Anti video for PAX?!” Marvin cries. “Why?”

“Because the fans would enjoy it! Also because I was running out of ideas for what to do for an opening,” Jack admits. “It just seemed like the right amount of fun and originality without being too over the top!”

“When is Anti not over the top?” Jackie scoffs. That earns a laugh from the others.

“Actually, it’s Schneep who has a question for you,” Marvin says.

Jack turns to Schneeplestein. Schneep’s smile disappears. He looks around the table, watching everyone’s gaze. He grins nervously at Jack.

“Could I ask you in private? This stuff… it is… personal.”

“Sure. Let’s go,” Jack says, standing up. Schneep follows after him.

In the upstairs hallway, Schneep spills everything. He explains who Chase is, what’s going on in his life, and how he believes making Chase an ego could help his situation.

“Make another ego? Oh god, I’m having enough trouble managing you all right now,” Jack admits.

“All you have to do is make one video. The fans can do the rest,” Schneep presses.

“How?”

“By showing their love for Chase! He’s a funny and sweet guy! Your fans would love him!”

“How will the community’s love help a man struggling with a divorce?” Jack questions.

“Their love will lift his spirits and he will feel more confident and happy! You said you noticed a difference in us after the community made content of us! If that is really true, then I want to see them show their love for Chase. It’s the least he deserves!”

Jack is silent, contemplating the pros and cons. Finally, he sighs and says, “Can you show me what he usually does?”

Schneep types something into his phone. He logs onto Youtube and types a channel name into the search bar. Bro Average.

“Bro Average? Is that a parody of Dude Perfect?” Jack asks, chuckling.

“Well, it’s because there’s only one person performing every stunt, and because it’s less... professional than the other channel,” Schneep explains. “For example-”

The video shows Chase at a park, holding a Nerf gun and wearing a goofy grin. “Sup, guys! I’m Chase, and welcome to Bro Average!” He shoots a nerf dart off-screen, only for it to crash into something, invoking a cat screech. Chase pretends to be startled.

It flashes forward to Chase in a tree. “This one’s called, ‘Multitasking’!” He hangs off a branch while trying to knock over six cups stacked up on each other with darts. Jack can’t stop snickering at Chase’s antics, as he wobbles and threatens to lose his balance. Chase yelps and squeals, and a few times, swearing can be heard, though it’s censored by loud beeps. Finally, Chase hits his target, just as the branch snaps. Chase whoops with glee as he crashes onto the ground, the branch smacking into his head. His cameraman runs over to him, worried, but Chase is rolling on the ground in laughter as tears run down his face.

“He is not nearly as good as the professionals, but his humour and authenticness bring in the fans,” Schneep says, smiling.

“He sounds like a blast!” Jack takes the phone and begins to skim through Chase’s videos. “I bet I could make something work! I’ll borrow an office space, bring a couple friends and film a few shots! Can’t be that hard!”

“So you will do it?!” Schneep cries.

“Absolutely! Give me a couple days and it will be ready!”

Schneep cheers and engulfs Jack in a bear hug. Jack laughs and pats his friend’s back. It’s nice to see the doctor open up at last to his new roommates and creator, and so quickly, as well. Jack decides Schneep can be rewarded for his good nature by granting his wish and helping out a new friend.

A few weeks pass. Schneeplestein schedules more visits with Chase. The two fathers laugh and chat, learning more about each other and discussing whatever they please without the worry of kids hearing. Schneep feels his spirits lift whenever he sees Chase’s snapback and hears his cheerful voice.

In the night, a familiar sensation returns to the egos’ dreams. Sounds of a Nerf gun, kids laughing and on the rare occasion, a man crying fills the egos’ heads as they sleep. Schneep feels his heart break when he hears Chase’s cries. He hopes this video will help Chase. It has to.

April 11th, 2017. The egos are gathered around the dining room table, Jack’s Youtube account open on his laptop.

Jack idly sits at the centre, waiting for Schneep to arrive with Chase. Marvin and Jackie play another round of cribbage, and this time Jackie seems to be way ahead on the board, much to the magician’s dismay.

“I’m going to be skunked! I hate this game so fucking much!” Marvin gripes, as he receives two points for his math efforts.

Jackie snickers as he counts his cards. “This takes both luck and skill. You’re a fast learner, Marv. I’m sure you’ll pull through soon.”

“Not soon enough,” grumbles Marvin as Jackie moves his peg 16 points.

The door opens and Schneep walks in with Chase Brody right behind him. Compared to the laughing man with the warm aura in Google Images, this Chase looks cold and kind of grumpy.

“Chase, this is Jack McLoughlin, our ‘creator’ and a wonderful man,” Schneep introduces. Jack awkwardly holds his hand out for a shake. Even though he’s seen versions of himself several times this past year, it’s still rather unnerving to be given death stares by himself but with yellow hair, snapback and a fair share of freckles.

“Jack, this is Chase Brody, your newest ego and the face of Bro Average!” Schneep continues. Chase raises an eyebrow.

“Ego? Like alter ego?” Chase turns to the others, and realizes that they share the same hair and face. “Oh... my... dog. Am I a fictional character?! Is this a character intervention with the narrator?! Whatever happened, I promise, I didn’t do it! Sally encouraged me to eat the worm!” Chase kneels before Jack, cowering and whimpering.

Jack chuckles nervously. “Relax, Chase! Technically, you are a fictional character-” Chase shrieks in alarm.

“But only in another universe. You’re very much a real person in this one,” Schneep concludes, helping Chase up by the arm. Chase shakes the doctor off and Schneep tries his best to hide his hurt.

“To put it simply, some of the videos on my channel don’t exist in this universe. This is because they’re about you… egos,” Jack recites. “You’re the most recent ego, however, your video and beginnings are a bit different because I already had some course material to go off of.”

Jack clicks play on the video. Chase sits down and gasps as Jack-as-Chase flies around the office, performing trickshots and screaming like a toddler who drank too much apple juice. Is… is this him?! The accuracy! Holy shit! They even got his bloopers right! Creepy!!! Is he being stalked?!

Schneep watches from afar, fidgeting with his lab coat. Chase hasn’t moved once since the video started. He doesn’t look angry… but at the same time, he doesn’t seem to be enjoying his Power Hour. Truth be told, it’s not like the Doctor particularly likes his Power Hour either. Jack didn’t have to go and mention his cheating wife… or the fact that Peter did die at one point… Nonetheless, Chase is just sitting there, with wide eyes.

Jack, on the other hand, is already regretting what he did. Perhaps he emphasized too much on the “Not-As-Professional-Or-Successful” part. Maybe he made Chase too goofy or not as three-dimensional as he could have. The Youtuber catches a glimpse of the screen. Oh no. It’s the part with-

“Stacy, please, I know, I’m trying to get all the shots, look, just please don’t take the kids!” Jack-as-Chase pleads. Schneep and Jack-in-the-flesh turn white as a ghost. Chase frowns.

“This one’s called, ‘I’m Staying At My Sister’s This Weekend’!” Jack-as-Chase announces. It flashes back to him on the phone. “Well, I don’t care what your sister says! Just please! At least let me see them on the weekend still!”

Jack scratched his neck nervously and teethed on his knuckles, face beet red. Chase looks horrified. Schneep looks just as worried. Marvin and Jackie awkwardly stand up to leave.

Chase pauses the video just as Jack-as-Chase sobs. He takes a deep breath and turns to face his “creator”. “So… are you the reason my wife and I are getting a divorce?”

Jack gapes, taken aback by Chase’s accusation. He doesn’t want to throw Schneep under the bus, but at the same time, Chase wasn’t exactly “created” like the others-

“Not exactly!” Schneep interferes. “It… it was my idea. I thought if I got Jack to make a tribute video in honour of you, it would help you!”

“Help me?!” Chase laughs, a harsh and cold sound compared to his whoops and chuckles in his videos. “How?! By running my wife’s name through the dirt?!” Jack flinches.

“Fair enough,” Schneep says with a groan. “I should have been more specific when I said divorce and kids.”

“You told-?!”

“I thought if you knew you had a big name on your side you’d feel better! It was supposed to be a little treat!” Schneep counters.

“Oh, what am I, a little pity party to you?” Chase snaps. “My divorce was private information, Schneep. Why else did you think I wanted to talk to you alone?! Now the whole world knows and Stacy’s going to be treated horribly because of you shits-”

“Not the whole world!” Schneep exclaims. “Just… all… of Jack’s world.”

“Shut up,” Chase hisses. “I don’t care that there’s more than one universe. So be it. What I care about is the fact that you betrayed my trust and now people are going to treat Stacy like she was a freaking bitch. This may come as a surprise to both you and Jack, but not all women are cheating whores like Lisette, asshole!”

SMACK. Chase cries out. The egos and Jack huddle together. Schneep’s breathing slows as he registers the sting in his hand and Chase rubbing his red cheek.

Schneep takes a deep breath, and in chilling, low, icy words, he snarls, “Don’t ever say her name again.”

Chase recovers from the slap and storms over to the door. “Whatever. You know what?! Stay away from me and whatever’s left of my family. I don’t care if I’m a part of your ‘creator’s’ story or whatever, I JUST WANT YOU OUT OF MY LIFE.” Chase grabs his coat and slams the door shut with a loud BANG. Schneep remains at the dining room, breathing unsteadily, vision somewhat blurry.

“Doctor? Are you alright?” Jackie whispers, reaching a hand out.

“DON’T TOUCH ME!” Schneep runs upstairs to his room and slams the door. Muffled sobs soon echo down the hallway.

Jack’s heart breaks in two. He really thought this video was a good idea. Somehow, all it brought was pain. He sighs defeatedly and slumps down at the table. Marvin closes the laptop.

“Shit… that was awful…”

“And it was supposed to be Chase’s birthday present!” Jack moans. “Ahhhhh, I feel like an asshole… I shouldn’t have been so mean…”

“It’s not your fault…” Jackie soothes. “You made an assumption and played it with satire. Schneep shares some of the blame as well. He should have kept that part quiet.”

“And I should have kept that out of the video…” Jack sighs. “Now Chase feels even worse about the divorce and he wants nothing to do with us…”

Jackie and Marvin sit down beside Jack and rub his back. Jack sighs again and rests his head on the table.

Upstairs, Schneep screams into his pillow, tears finally flowing. He hates himself and Chase and everything that’s happened. That’s what he gets for helping a friend. Ungrateful bastard-

No. Schneep should have known better! That was private information, he had no right poking his nose in and telling everyone. Well, it was just one person, but still! Now Chase never wants to speak to him again and he’s lost the only friend he’s had in a while and everything sucks and he just wants to curl up and die. Schneep pulls his hair and screams again. He can’t sleep, but at the same time, he can’t do anything else. So he remains in bed, crying and thinking. Eventually, long into the night, he falls asleep, cheeks wet and eyes sore.

Schneep wakes up feeling like absolute shit. His cheeks are somewhat sticky and damp. He must have been crying in his sleep. His stomach feels awful. But it’s a work day, so he gets out of bed.

Schneep stumbles into his ensuite bathroom and splashes cold water on his face. He shudders when he sees his reflection. Grey skin, messy hair, red eyes. He doesn’t smell so good either. Sighing sadly, Schneep throws off his clothes and turns on the shower faucet.

When he hops out of the shower, he puts on his scrubs and grabs his spare labcoat. He trudges downstairs, where Marvin is waiting with fluffy chocolate-chip pancakes on the table.

“Morning, doc,” Marvin greets cheerfully. His smile fades when he sees Schneep’s ashen face. “Everything alright?”

“I’m fine,” Schneep replies hoarsely.

“I made you some coffee,” Marvin continues. “I know you like it.”

Schneep grunts softly and pours himself a large cup. As he drinks he heads to the hook of keys by the front door, only to find-

“Where are my keys?” Schneep asks, staring at the space where his car keys used to hang.

“I saw Sirius knock them off earlier,” Marvin replies, flipping through the nearest magazine. “I tried to catch her, but she’s so fast.”

“Where is she right now?” Schneep inquires, trying to sound as calm as possible.

“Beats me. I can’t control her,” Marvin says calmly.

Schneep growls and pounds on the table. Marvin jumps slightly, but quickly recovers and goes back to his reading.

“This isn’t funny, Marvin. I need to get to work!” Schneep snaps. “I’m already falling behind schedule.”

Marvin snorts, looking up from the magazine. “You think you’re fit to go to work? Your face is bright pink, you’ve got large shadows under your eyes and I heard you crying for who knows how many hours last night.”

“I have allergies! They were just acting up!” Schneep snaps.

“Oh, really? Allergies? That’s rich coming from the man who claims to have ‘the strongest immune system in the world’!” Marvin scoffs.

“Even the strongest immune systems have off days, okay?!”

“That doesn’t even make any sense! Henrik, are you even hearing yourself?!”

Schneep fights back more tears. “Marvin, please, tell me where the keys are! I can’t be late for work!”

“And you won’t be! I called the hospital and asked them to give you a day off!” Marvin says.

Schneep almost drops his mug. “You… you did what?!”

“I told them it was a family emergency,” Marvin admits. “And that we didn’t know how long it would be. They understood, told me to tell you to take as many days off as you need.”

“Which is none,” Schneep scowls. “I’m fine.”

“No you’re not.”

“Yes, I am!”

“Henrik, you said you didn’t want Chase to go through his divorce alone and friendless, like you. You’re going through a tough time right now. The last thing you need is to be alone.”

Schneep gapes at the magician, tears threatening to fall. Marvin stares back, heart thumping loudly. He prays he didn’t say the wrong thing. He hopes this works.

Maybe it’s because he didn't get enough sleep, or maybe it’s because he’s never had anyone be so concerned for his well-being that they screwed up his schedule, but Henrik finally lets his anguish go, and collapses, bawling like a little baby. Marvin gets down from his seat and wraps his arms around the doctor, soothing him and singing softly.

Jackie finally emerges from the bathroom, and joins the cuddle pile in the kitchen. As Henrik finally slumps completely into Marvin’s arms, he and the superhero high-five and move the sleeping doctor into the living room for a day of Netflix and cuddles.

Five days pass. Henrik sits at his desk, tapping his pen. In front of him is the start of a letter, with only the words “Dear Chase,” written on it. He needs to apologize to Chase, but just doing it by text seems insensitive. So written letter it is! Now… where to start…

Dear Chase,

I’m sorry. What I did was wrong and there’s no way to excuse my behaviour. I really believed I was doing the right thing by telling Jack, but I should have known better than to air dirty laundry.

The doctor shakes his head and crumples up the page. He can do better than that. Now to start over-

His phone begins playing the familiar sound of a monitor beeping. He really needs to change his ringtone. It’s too painful to hear after all the dead patients that came with it.

Henrik freezes when he notices the name. Chase. Why is he calling? Heart thumping and hands shaking, Henrik picks up the phone.

“Hello? Chase?”

“H-hi, d-doc…” Chase answers in a raspy whisper. The sound of sniffling is not lost on Henrik.

“Chase? Are you okay?”

“Not really…” Another sniffle. “But I will be… soon.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m sorry for all the shit I said… It was wrong of me to bring up your own divorce… I-I shouldn’t have been so harsh…”

“No, Chase, I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have brought up your divorce in the first place! I thought I was doing good by telling Jack, but he clearly misinterpreted it. I shouldn’t have mentioned it…”

“It’s alright… you were just trying to make me feel bet-better… I just overreacted… I overreact to eve-everything… I’m such a bay-baby.” Chase sounds like he’s holding back tears.

“No you’re not. You had every right to be mad… I’m sorry for slapping you. How’s your cheek?”

Schneep hears Chase chuckle softly. “It’s fine… It doesn’t hurt as much as other injuries…” The laugh turns into a sob.

“Other injuries?! What do you mean?!” Henrik demands. “Chase, you’re worrying me!”

“I’m sorry… I can’t seem to do anything right… All I do is upset people…” Chase is outright crying now.

“Chase, please tell me where you are,” Henrik pleads, getting up. “I need to make sure you’re okay!”

“No… I don’t think you’ll want to see this…” Chase mumbles. He takes a deep but shuddery breath. “I have to go. Goodbye, Henrik.”

“Chase?! CHASE?!” Henrik screams. The phone line goes dead. Henrik yelps and quickly rushes into his contacts. He finds Stacy’s name and calls her.

She answers on the first ring. “Henrik? It’s been so long! How are you?”

“Where is Chase right now?”

“What?”

“Where is he living?”

“What’s going on? What did he say to you? Is he okay?”

“Call 999. I don’t believe so.”

Henrik hangs up and dashes out of his office, up the stairs and to the front door, where he grabs his keys and coat. Marvin and Jackie sit at the kitchen island, both on their phones.

“Henrik? What’s going on?”

“I have to go to the hospital. I’ll be back,” Henrik answers curtly. He throws on his coat and leaves.

Henrik runs into the hospital and quickly signs himself in. A nurse comes by and squeaks in surprise when she sees him.

“Dr. Schneeplestein? What are you doing here? Isn’t today your day off?”

“Time is broken, Cass,” Dr. Schneeplestein replies. He dashes off to the emergency room. Cass quickens her pace, trying her best to catch up to him.

“Have there been any emergencies yet?” Schneep demands.

“I think an ambulance is arriving soon-” Cass begins.

“Who’s the patient?” Schneep asks.

“A man attempted suicide-” Cass starts.

“I’ll treat him,” Schneep announces.

The doors open and medics rush in, driving a man on a gurney. Schneep pales when he sees red. The good doctor swallows his fear and tears. Now is not the time to be a baby. He’s not called the good doctor for nothing. Time to save Chase’s life.

Hours later, five nurses come in to find Dr. Schneeplestein exhaustedly sobbing against the wall, shoulders convulsing as he cries into his hands. On the gurney lies a man with yellow hair poking out of a large bandage wrapped around his head. The monitor beeps rhythmically, and the man’s chest rises and falls slowly. So why is the doctor crying?

Three nurses wheel Chase out while the other two bend down next to Schneep. One nurse, Kate, tentatively places a hand on his shoulder. He jumps in shock.

“Schneeplestein? Are you alright?” Kate asks.

Schneep smiles shakily. “He’ll live…” He shivers and whimpers. “Oh god… so much could have happened… So much could have gone wrong… I thought I lost him a few times...” the doctor breaks off with another sob.

“Why don’t you head home? Today is your day off,” Kate suggests.

“In a little while… I need to speak to the patient first…” Schneep replies in a raspy voice. Kate nods. She and the other nurse, Matt, help the doctor up. His legs wobble and almost give out. Schneep takes a deep breath and slowly makes his way out of the operating room and into his office.

An hour later, Henrik reappears, wearing his comfy labcoat and drinking some tea, a rarity considering how much the doctor prefers coffee. But he needs to relax, and so Matt whipped up a nice cup of tea.

Henrik pulls up a chair and sets his cup down. He looks down at the sleeping man, face as white as the bandage wrapped around his head. Chase has never looked more fragile and vulnerable. His cheeks are sunken and there are large bags under his eyes.

Henrik rubs his face. Truthfully, he’s just as tired. He looks up at the clock. 1:11 am. God, he was in the operating room for quite a while. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be as stressed as he was today. He leans back and closes his eyes. Maybe he can get a quick nap before-

“Dr. Schneeplestein?” He opens his eyes and looks up. His stomach flips when he notices a woman with red hair that falls in waves down her shoulders. Her soft brown eyes are full of compassion and worry. Stacy Brody. Or Stacy Matthews, to be more precise.

“Stacy…” Henrik mumbles. “What… I mean, I’m sorry. I understand this must be a lot for you.”

“I can’t believe it… I mean, I knew about his depression, I just didn’t think it would get this bad,” Stacy says, voice soft and sad.

Henrik nods. “Yes. One can’t help but wonder what the breaking point was.”

“It’s because of me, isn’t it?” Stacy whispers hoarsely, staring down at her ex-husband’s skinny frame. “I did cheat on him. I told him I wanted a divorce after he found out… I wonder what would have happened if I told him straight up about Delilah… I wonder how he would have reacted…”

Henrik is speechless. He can’t really say it isn’t her fault, but at the same time, it wasn’t as if she could straight up tell him. There really was no way of telling how he would have reacted. Henrik groans and rubs his eyes again. He can’t think straight.

His mind flickers back to the video, and his stomach sinks. Did that video… influence his decision? Should he tell her about it? Would she be mad? He takes a deep breath.

“I mentioned your divorce to another friend,” he finally says. “Said friend made a video that I think mocked Chase more than flattered him. I thought it would help… but it didn’t. Only made him even more upset.”

“A video? Was this the video that ‘Jack’ made?” Stacy asks. Henrik opens his eyes, horrified. How long has she known?! Oh god, she must despise him! Henrik whirls around to face her, face riddled with guilt.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t think he’d take it in that direction- It was a shitty idea, I was so invasive and it was absolutely despicable of me and-”

“Hey, calm down, it’s okay! It was an honest mistake!” Stacy responds calmly. “Chase told me about it. He felt awful and he was so pissed with you guys. I will admit I was a bit peeved at first, but Chase said he yelled at you and broke off his friendship with you, so I figured it was punishment enough.”

“He also brought up my wife,” Henrik says. “So I punched him.”

Stacy nods. “Ah, that’s where the bruise came from.”

Henrik cringes. Damn, did he actually hit Chase that hard? He really is a dick. He sighs and stands up. “You are more than welcome to punch me. I deserve it. I never should have brought up the divorce. It was hateful of me, really.”

Stacy shakes her head. “Oh no, I couldn’t! You saved Chase from the brink of death. It’d be so insensitive of me!”

“I insist.” Henrik holds his head up. Stacy reluctantly stands up, and raises an open palm.

“I’m sorry,” she squeaks.

“It’s fine, I can handle it,” Henrik says.

Stacy takes a deep breath… and punches him. Henrik falls back into the chair from the force. Stacy cringes.

“You… have a very strong punch,” Henrik remarks, holding his throbbing cheek. He holds a finger up when he sees her mouth move. “Don’t apologize. You were right to do so.”

“I took karate as a kid,” Stacy boasts. “I won a black belt at age five.”

“Good for you! To be honest, it wasn’t nearly as hard as my wife’s,” Henrik admits.

“Well, at least I got my ‘revenge’- wait, what?!” Stacy does a double take. “Lisette used to punch you?!”

“She only did it once,” Henrik quickly adds. “After I called her a whore.”

“Oh. That explains a lot,” Stacy deadpans.

“I deserved that as well,” Henrik says. “I just wish she hadn’t moved so far away… I wonder how the girls are doing...”

“Have your children contacted you?” Stacy lightly presses.

“I’ve tried to contact them,” Henrik says. “I don’t think Lisette lets them write or call me.”

“Then Lisette really is an ass,” Stacy explodes. “What if they do want to talk to you? She can’t hide them from you just because she doesn’t like you.”

“That doesn’t seem to stop her. I keep my phone nearby in case Sophia calls when her mother isn’t around.” Henrik pats his pocket. “Or maybe Rick will let her. He’s quite nice and he’s good with kids, which is why I was quite surprised when he turned out to be-”

“A homewrecker?” Stacy suggests. Henrik glares at her, scandalized, but she can tell he’s trying to suppress a smile.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, snickering.

“I was gonna say an ass, but that’s better,” he says. Stacy bursts out laughing, but it quickly fades when she notices Chase. She clears her throat.

“I’m going to take the kids away for a while,” she reveals. “At least until he’s emotionally stable to look after the kids.”

“You know Chase would never let his depression get in the way of being a good father,” Henrik protests.

“I know. I just feel he needs a break from it all,” Stacy says. “Mostly family life, me and Delilah in particular. Maybe she and I could go to my cottage in Scotland. We can stay there until he feels ready to share custody once more. He can’t be alone, though. We know what will happen if he does. He can’t go back home either. We still need to wash out the blood and dispose of any guns he might have. Of course I mean the real guns, but he might not want his Nerf toys either. He needs to be with someone , and that can’t be me. I just don’t know anyone he could stay with who lives in Athlone. We only just moved here.”

Henrik lights up. Holy shit. It’s like destiny! This is the perfect opportunity! “He can move in with us. He’s already an ego. He’d love it there. Sure it’s a bit chaotic, but I think he’d love it!”

Stacy raises an eyebrow. “What sort of chaotic?” she questions.

“The local superhero likes to crash there, we have a magician who INSISTS on using us for test subjects for his latest tricks, and me, the ‘feral doctor’,” Henrik lists off. “Come to think of it, I’m actually the voice of reason.”

Stacy tries her best to hide a shudder. “I feel a little worried about his safety. And no offense, but it’s a bit concerning that you’re the voice of reason in that house.”

Henrik scoffs in mock insult and shoves her gently. “Oh screw you! To be honest, Jackie is actually the smart one. I’m the one who pays the taxes and keeps a roof over their head. They’re the ones who overstayed their visit.”

Stacy rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. She looks more relaxed than when she walked in. She stands up.

“I think it’s time I left. Good luck, Chase. I wish you all the best with your recovery.” Stacy leans over and gently kisses Chase’s cheek before turning to Henrik and holding her hand out. Henrik returns it and gives it a small squeeze, only to be pulled in for a hug. He gasps in surprise.

“Thank you Henrik,” she whispers. Henrik nods and returns the hug, holding her tightly until she signals to let go. Stacy picks up her bag and leaves.

Henrik sits back down and takes out his cellphone to call the egos. Jackie picks up after the first ring.

“Henrik? Are you okay?”

“I want you to clean the house and make some hot chocolate. We’ve got a new roommate coming to stay with us!” Henrik announces.

“Is it Chase? Is that who we’re taking in?” Jackie asks.

“Yes. I want everything to be perfect, so go! Get cleaning!” the doctor commands.

“Need us to pick you up?” Marvin suggests.

“I can drive just fine! See you soon!” Henrik hangs up just as Chase begins to stir. The doctor watches him apprehensively. He hasn’t seen Chase since the argument. How will he react?

Chase groggily opens his eyes. He can see a bright light shining down on him and closes his eyes. “Where… where am I?”

He slowly attempts to sit up. A soft pair of hands gently help him sit up and rub his back.

Chase blinks, trying to clear his vision. The blurry blue shape slowly comes into view… Henrik! The good doctor sits beside him with an anxious expression on his face.

Chase wracks his memory to try to remember what had happened. He can feel a heavy fabric wrapped around his head. He lifts a hand to better investigate… oh.

Henrik’s heart breaks when he sees Chase drop his hand, expression forlorn. Here we go, he thinks.

“Chase?” Chase looks up. “Before you say anything, know that you have every right to be mad at me and Jack. What we did was despicable and absolutely awful. You don’t have to forgive us, and I completely understand if you never do. But you can’t be alone right now. You’re going through a really tough time, and the last thing you need to be is alone. I don’t know if you’ll accept it, but we have an extra room at home that would be a perfect spot for you to stay while you recover. I know you might not want to talk to me, but Jackie and Marvin are living with me, and they will ensure your time there will be as comfortable as possible. It’s fine if you don’t want to go, but just know that we will always be there when you need a place to stay.”

Chase is silent, simply gazing at Henrik with unshed tears. Finally, he throws his arms around Henrik’s neck. Henrik startles, but returns the hug.

“Is that a yes?” Henrik mumbles. Chase nods. Henrik sighs in relief and squeezes Chase tighter. Now all he has to do is hope Jackie and Marvin have the house ready by the time he returns.

Henrik parks the car in the driveway and turns to Chase. The vlogger fidgets with his t-shirt. Henrik puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Just warning you now, while Jackie and Marvin have good hearts and intentions, they can be little shits and there’s a good chance the house will still be a mess when we get back in. Good luck.”

Chase whimpers in fear. Henrik nods solemnly. “My thoughts exactly.”

The fathers unload the car and walk up to the front steps. Henrik takes a deep breath and opens the door.

“FIFTEEN FUCKING POINTS! I WIN AGAIN MOTHERFUCKER!” Jackie screeches. Marvin roars in anger and tosses a pillow at Jackie, who backhands it. The pillow soars across the house and slams into Henrik, who grunts in alarm and falls backward. Chase shrieks in alarm, gaping at his fallen friend.

Marvin and Jackie turn around, bright blue eyes glaring into Chase. Marvin’s eye twitches sporadically and Jackie smiles like a madman. Chase nervously waves. Marvin clears his throat and forces a sleep-deprived smile.

“Howdy, Chase!”

#attempted suicide tw #suicidal ideation tw #blood mention tw #extreme distress tw #apparently i can write #jacksepticeye #dr. schneeplestein #chase brody #jackieboy man #marvin the magnificent #writersofjack #writers of jack

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