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oh-styles · 4 years

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Something About a Beginning: Part II

First off, I want to thank each and every one of you for your immense patience. (More so than others, but I digress.) Writing on such topics when you yourself aren’t in the most healthiest mentality is a struggle alone, but we got here.

Second off, if you haven’t read the first part, you can so here. These chapters implicate bouts of depression and talks of miscarriage, so read at your own will.

I do want to note that I mention Robin in this story, and I was hesitant to include him because I felt it wasn’t appropriate, because he shouldn’t be used as entertainment purposes (i.e. in stories) but I mention him only with love and respect.

Again, thank you for your patience, and happy reading.

July 3, 2019 London, England

Harry lost his girl.

She vanished in the night – gone with the wind – and all that remained was a ghost of a woman, transparent and bleak. He hasn’t seen her smile since that night, coming close to a week now, and his gut retches at the thought he might never get his girl back.

She’s buried herself in the sheets; the window is opened a crack, and he spots an empty bottle of melatonin laying overturned on her bedside table. He stares intently at her body, watching as the sheets rise and fall to the pattern of her placid breathing, and he thinks for a moment that she’s finally found herself a better place. Not dead—not by any means. Whatever dream world she has found herself delved in, he knows she might have found a sliver of peace there, hopefully smiling.

“She’s sleeping, mum.” Harry says into his phone, taking a step back to gently close the bedroom door. “Rande and Cindy invited us to Muskoka but…” His words hung in the air, like the elephant in the room, but his mother knew all too well what was lingering on the precipice of her sons’ tongue.

But she’s too depressed.

But she can’t go a day without crying.

But I don’t think she has the energy to leave the house.

It’s been four days since the attack, and Harry hasn’t seen her take a step outside of their bedroom.

“Love, she’s wasting away in there. It might help her a little to get out, get some sun…”

“Mum, I can’t even get her to sit in the fucking garden.” He can hear his mother’s nettled sigh on the other end of the line, but how can anyone expect him to put her on a mother fucking airplane if she can’t even bother to walk the 30 meters to the fucking garden? “The sodding paps were outside the house last night.”

“They can’t—”

“I’m aware.” He begins to descend his way down the stairs, stopping to peer out from the front window – an old, worn out habit. “I think it’s best we get away for a bit. The story hasn’t died down… I think it’ll help—getting away. They won’t bother us there.”

Harry knew your answer before he even had the chance to ask; he knew he was wasting his time in even suggesting such a thing, but the guilt would eat away at him if he didn’t even try.

“Muskoka…Canada, remember? We went there last year.” He sat at the edge of the bed, running a hand over the sheets where a peek of your shoulder laid exposed. “It’ll be quiet. Nobody there to bug us. If you want to just hang out in the hotel room the whole time, I’d be fine with that. It’s just…”

I can’t stand to see you burrowed away another day.

“I’m really worried about you… I’m just trying to help.” He was powerless, and he knew it. He couldn’t take her by the arm and force her on a plane, but god forbid he try his damned hardest. “No paps, nobody. I promise. I wouldn’t take you there if it wasn’t safe.”

He feels a stir beneath him, and from underneath the covers, a small hand inches outward and lays upward, a silent plea for intimacy—a piece of familiarity he hasn’t touched in days. He reaches out and clasps her hand in his, and readjusts himself to lay beside her.

“You can think about it. I don’t need an answer this second, but give it a day or two, okay?”

He sees her nod, and her eyes blink open to meet his, only for a second, before they are closed once again for the remainder of the night.

July 6, 2019 Ontario, Canada

Muskoka came and went. Nothing advantageous to really capture your attention, though you kept your head nestled low in a book for most of your stay. You tossed a couple Stephen King novels into your bags without much thought, and by the time your trip was coming to an end, you had already completed one and started another.

A photo made its rounds online of you at dinner with Harry, Rande and Cindy, and even thinking back to that night, you couldn’t recount a time where you felt a pair of eyes boring at your table. You think it might be because you paid more attention to the drink menu than your friends, but you digressed. They only saw the back of your head, and not even the photographer mentioned you. You were also mistaken for Kaia on a couple occasions.

After Muskoka, you were back in London, and not much later Harry would be jetting off to Italy for Google Camp, and a few days after that, he was set to fly to Mexico for a video shoot. He was redundant to go, and even called Jeff to see if they could reschedule, but that would cause a delay for the next video they’d film only a week later. He asked if you wanted to join him, and you kindly declined. You were much aware of his past video sets, and how common it was to see photos and videos leaked online, and you were far from interested to be included.

You were much happier to find yourself under the watchful eyes of Anne Twist.

“I can meet you in Scotland if I’m feeling up to it.” You knew it was a scorching lie crawling right off your tongue, but if it meant he carried some hope with him, then you would feed him whatever white lies you could muster. Even Anne knew better than to believe you.

“I think Canada was good for you, love, but you need some rest, too. Can’t be travelling all over the bloody world, now, can you?”

It was a nice feeling to know she had your back.

In another life would a little green monster be envious of missing such a trip to Cancun, but the only desires you had were sitting in Anne’s garden being force fed a steady cup a tea and a plate of biscuits.

Anne didn’t pry; she knew well what you needed, but she would be keeping her sons promise on keeping you safe, and she knew there was no safer place for you to be.

It was August now, and the heat felt suffocating. You and Anne spent your mornings walking to the bakery her son once worked in, grabbing a quick breakfast before heading to the park. You would pick off pieces of your croissant and toss it at the squirrels, but you almost always scared them off. Anne told stories of when Harry was a child, and how he once tried to tell her Gemma was a drug dealer.

“She was only a child,” she hummed, laughing into her coffee. “But he was always a character to have around.”

“I feel like…between you and me, right?” You could hear in the distance the sound of a goose honking and a group of children wailing, running away. “I just…don’t want to upset him.”

Anne reached over and took your hand in hers. “Anything you say is always safe with me, love.”

“I’m mad he left me here.” There was a short beat, but you could feel your throat close, and that anger begin to well up in your chest. “This…this is also…”

“I know, love.” She scooted closer, squeezing your hand. “Everyone has their own ways of dealing with grief. Harry isn’t good at sitting around… Even when Robin passed, he didn’t like to sit. He needed to go do something.”

You remember, and yet you still recall him lying on his mother’s couch in tears. You don’t think he’s cried since the two of you left the hospital a couple weeks ago.

“He loves you, darling. He calls me every day to check in on you. Don’t think for a second he doesn’t care.”

Even with her words, you felt something was missing.

Harry was only in Scotland for a couple days before he was finally home, but it wouldn’t be long before he would be venturing off to Italy – again – for another work-related conquest. You weren’t sure why he was so content with country hopping every couple of weeks instead of resting at home with you, but you didn’t bother bludgeoning him with questions.

“After I’m through with Italy—I won’t even be there a day—I’ll be back home, but a couple weeks later, I have to go to LA for some meetings… I’d like you to come, if that’s okay.”

Again. There’s always something. It must be so fucking difficult to stay in one place for more than a couple weeks with your grieving girlfriend.

“Also…I was meaning to ask you. Ariana is in town in a few days… Wanted to know if you wanted to come with me and the guys… I think it’ll be fun.”

“Your child died a month ago and you want to go to a fucking Ariana Grande concert.” The words fell helplessly from you, but it was weeks of anguish and neglect that hit its final tier, and you were quite tired of hanging on. “Tell me….how does that make sense to you?”

“Excuse me?” For the first time that night, he looked at you. All before, he found excuses to shift his glances to anything but you, maybe in fear of reality finally hitting him in the face with what he’s been running from for weeks, but for the first time that night, he bared his eyes down at you, and his mouth fell open.

“I’m sorry—have I been hallucinating you just picking your shit up and leaving every chance you get?”

“I’ve had work—” He took to his feet, swiftly flinging his hand out to close the lid of his luggage.

“Any normal person—I swear, any normal person would stay home, and fucking grieve, except you, who wants to fucking fly everywhere and work, because that would require facing his fucking prob—”

“I have a job—I know it’s hard for you to relate to that, but I have commitments—”

“And what am I then? If not a commitment, then what, Harry?”

“You are a commitment—”

“Then where have you been? Why have I been staying with your mother? I know you invited me to go with you, but I shouldn’t have to. I’m fucking hurting, Harry! I don’t want to go to Cancun and Italy—I want to be here with you. Do you know how fucking hard it’s been dealing with this without you here?”

For once, he was silent, but he shifted on his feet.

“You haven’t cried. Not since the hospital. I can’t count how many times I’ve cried, and you sit around texting your band or going to video shoots… If you feel nothing—no grief or anything…if you didn’t even want the baby, just tell me. Make this easier on me, please.”

“How the fuck can you say that I didn’t want the baby? My heart is fucking hurt!”

“Then act like it!”

“You really think I can sit around every day and watch you fall apart? I have to be the strong one… If it can’t be you, then it has to be me, and I don’t like watching you hurt.”

“You know…you sometimes have a really shitty way showing people you care about them.”

You stood there, arms folded in resistance, and he couldn’t take his eyes from off the floor. He felt cornered, and he was defenseless with nothing else left to give. His bags still laid on the bed, clothes scattered over the sheets ready to be put up, and you knew this room was no place for you. Your purse was downstairs, and your phone in your pocket.

“I’m going to stay with Gemma tonight. I’ll have her pick me up. Please don’t follow me out.”

She’s always been the quiet one.

The first time she met you, at a family gathering you were reluctant to attend despite the persistent reassurance from your other half, she knew from the moment she saw you that you were different from all the others. You held yourself different, much shorter, like you knew you could never become the center of attention.

You studied the room, holding onto Harry’s hand as he introduced you to his mother, and that’s when Gemma appeared from over her mother’s shoulder.

“About time I meet you,” she chuckled, reaching her hand out. “I’m Gemma.”

She watches you now from the edge of the driveway, sitting on the steps of the porch with only the light above you illuminating your surroundings. From behind you, she spotted the silhouette of her brother peeking through the curtains, keeping a close eye for just in case.

Your track record wasn’t a good one.

As she approaches, you perk your head up with a sigh of relief. For the first time, she was the Styles you nothing but needed.

“Come on, Magoo,” she chirps as she finally reaches you, lifting her hand out for you to take. “We can hit the McDonald’s drive-thru.”

Laura Nyro played over her car stereo, a melodious tune you recall hearing once before on a long drive in Cheshire. You shut your eyes, and the memory floods you like a storm, like a stampede parading across your chest, and you lean over to rest your head on the window.

Gemma reached her hand over to find yours, giving it three squeezes of solace.

I. Love. You.

The cut that was tucked away in your hairline was in its last stages of healing, and a scar would most certainly take its place. You always felt the erratic throbbing, like a little reminder that no matter how far you run, your problems will always be chasing you like the devil.

“Did I make a mistake?”

Gemma turned her attention from the road, lifting your hand up with hers, and planting a soft kiss to your knuckles.

“No, Magoo. I’m sorry to tell you, but you’re dating a dumbass.” She heard a muted hum in response. “Nobody is perfect… Not even that shithead. I can see where he thought what he was doing was okay, because he was sacrificing his feelings for you, but… that’s just not how you do it.”

You could drink to that.

Gemma spotted the golden arches and took a left at the light. “I’m glad you texted me… Haven’t had a bloody girl’s night in ages. It sucks under the circumstances but…” She turned back to you with a wink. “I’ll take what I can get.”

On the journey back to her flat, you pleasantly sipped at your chocolate milkshake and tapped your feet to the music, and even sporadically hummed along to the few chords you knew. It really didn’t take much to please you.

Gemma was never gifted a sister as a child. Though, she did want one, and was thoroughly distraught when her mother brought home a brother all those years ago, she did grow accustomed and grew to love the curly haired boy who she would then share with the world. But the girl beside her, who slurped her drink and choked behind a laugh of a joke about a time traveler who walks into a bar, had burrowed herself deep within her heart, much like she does with any counterpart she meets.

It’s incredibly difficult not to meet this girl and not hold some sort of placement in her life. Her heart is massive, but the love she radiates is gracious and touches anyone who dares get too close.

And the love Gemma has for her is just as the same.

Michal was asleep when the two of you arrived; you knew your way around, and confidently walked to the spare room down the hall, last door on the right. Gemma trailed behind you, holding your milkshake as you flipped on the light, and kicked off your shoes.

Olivia was already sprawled out over the comforter.

“Could you stay with me, tonight?”

“You don’t have to ask me twice, babe.” Gemma smirked, setting your drink down on the bedside table. “Have you ate?”

You shook your head, even trying to recall if you had mustered an appetite to have some breakfast, but even then you think you took a couple bites out of an apple and forgot about it.

“I’ll make you something—actually, Michal and I have spinach ravioli left over… Want me to heat some of that up for you?”

You graciously nodded. “You’re too good for me.”

“I just love you is all.”

The next morning, the spot beside you was visibly vacant, and from down the hall you could vaguely hear a low, sullen voice talking over the sound of the television. Gemma fired back in response, and from your feet, Olivia peeked her head from the covers, turning towards the disrupting noise.

“Let her sleep—she’s exhausted—”

“Just give me five bloody minutes!”

You knew any chance of sleep you wish you had was far gone.

“I’m up—just fucking talk!” You hollered into your pillow, your eyes still adjusting to the sunlight cascading into the room. You could guess it wasn’t any later than nine that morning, and before you had a moment to check, his unquestionable footsteps neared your door, and you heard a light tap. “I’m obviously awake.”

After you walked out the night before, he ignored your wishes and followed you downstairs where the shortest reaction he got from you was the front door slamming in his face.

“Can I talk?”

I don’t know, can you?

“You literally came here and woke me up from some incredible sleep, mind you, and you’re asking me if you can talk.” He was in a blind panic and darted his eyes around the room. “Well, talk.”

“I’m a fucking twat, I know this. It’s inexcusable what I did—what I put you through—it was selfish—I’m so fucking selfish—I can’t fucking deal with this kind of stuff, and I’m a bloody twat for leaving you because I can’t handle it. It’s cowar—I’m a coward! I can’t face shit—and I love you so much, and I left you… I’m so sorry, please believe me. I’m such a twat—"

“Shut up, please—you’re giving me a migraine.” You held up a single finger as you adjusted yourself in bed. “Look, I don’t even know how early it is, and you know how much I hate mornings.”

“I know, but…I didn’t want to wait until the afternoon to talk to you.”

“That’s fair.”

“It’s 10:30 by the way.”

“Did you practice that speech in your car, or did you just wing it?”

While you were in bed with Gemma, watching King of the Hill on her iPad, Harry resided to his office where he spent much of the evening hunched over his journal, scrawling out endless messages to you about how much of a wanker he is, and by the time the sun began to rise, he had his eyes in his hand and began waiting for an appropriate time to come and see you.

“I…thought a little bit about it, yeah.”

“You really hurt me, alright? It’s not something I can just forget because you said you were sorry. When I needed you the most, you weren’t there. What kind of partner is that?” He stood silent in his spot; his hands dug deep into his trousers. Suddenly, he was a little boy again getting scolded by his mother. “I had your mom, I had Gemma, but not you. The only person I needed. I get this wasn’t part of the plan, and we got our hearts broken, but that doesn’t give you the right to run off because you can’t handle seeing me upset.”

Olivia stretched her limbs out over the covers, purring against the sheets.

“I appreciate you coming, I really do. This isn’t something I can just forget and move on from. I want to work on this, but it’s going to take time… I still love you though.”

September 19, 2019 Los Angeles, California

“Your shirt looks like amebae under a microscope.”

He stifled a grunt, looking down at his shirt with concentration, and every so subtly did you see him glance swiftly at the bathroom mirror. “I’m surprised you even know what ameba are.”

“Or it looks like those eye floaties you get, but…colorful, you know?”

“Will you stop bullying me?”

“Only when you tell me how much you paid for that shirt.”

For a second, and you saw it flash through his eyes, he considered telling you, but figured that was a fight for a different afternoon. His silence was all the answer you needed. You nodded and left the room.

He found himself eminently lucky that you even agreed to accompany him to Los Angeles, but it was under the one condition that he takes you to In-N-Out whenever you oh so politely asked. Though, after you harassed him over his attire that morning, he was undecided to change his mind.

He didn’t.

You did, however, apologize and say he looked like a sexy ameba, and he then locked you out of the car for five minutes.

To be fair, you only accepted his offer to travel with him because you missed your friends, and they were the one thing that remained untouched from the summer. You felt the emptiness being carried with you with every passing day, and all the books and websites said that was normal, but finding distractions and hobbies to pass the time was coming close to becoming a sport – way too laborious for you.

You even found yourself searching “Losing interest in things I used to like” and you were considerably shocked to discover the rabbit hole Google led you down.

You didn’t consider yourself depressed, not by any means. Sure, you were sad most of the day, you never really gained your appetite back, you stopped painting and watching King of the Hill and Breaking Bad, and if you didn’t spend the entire day sleeping, you would lay in bed with your eyes closed, praying you would eventually grow tired enough to slip away for a little while.

Harry even signed you both up for couple’s therapy.

“This is for people who cheated on each other and refuse to break up!”

But regardless of your inherent fussing, he refused to back down. Where the two of you stood mentally, this was your last chance at redemption, and he wasn’t letting you back out. The way he saw it, if you didn’t make an effort to try and fix what was broken, there was no hope for the relationship moving forward.

That was when you realized the outcome was more than just losing your baby.

After the first session, you made an appointment with your physician, who later prescribed not only you with anti-depressants, but Harry as well. Your world was spinning madly, in every which direction, but at least you had your boy holding on madly with you.

The first time you encountered a fan since the summer happened on that very first outing in Los Angeles when you and Harry were arriving for your lunch plans. (Not In-N-Out, but you let it go.) If it had been solely one girl, you trust that you could easily fight her off if given the opportunity. I mean, sure, you didn’t fight off that other girl, but she had the upper hand, or so you tell yourself.

But, no, she was with a group, and you felt the urge to vomit.

“I’m going to throw up—” You propel yourself in the other direction, ready to sprint back to the parking lot, and thinking back on it now, you can’t even remember the last time you even sprinted. “Let me sit in the car—let’s get the food to go—I don’t care—”

This is why we should have fucking gone to In-N-Out.

“Pet—you can’t run forever, okay? I know it’s fucking scary, but you have to face this one day.” You remember the exact quote Harry was reciting from the therapist, just with less profanity. “I won’t let them do shit, alright?”

They did stop him, of course, and you took a few steps away so they could have their moment, but you made sure he was still an arm grab away incase—

“Hey,” You had disregarded the voice, opening a game on your phone – Numberzilla – before you registered someone had spoken to you. “I’m sorry to bother you…”

At first glance, you could easily discern she was unsure of herself. She likely had a rush of confidence, and now standing blankly in front of you, she has lost all certainty. From behind, you peered up to find Harry staring at the back of her head, already inching into his pocket for his keys.

“Oh,” you gulp, clutching your phone in your hands. “Hi…”

“I just…was just hoping that you were doing okay.”

Doing okay, because of—

Your heart thudded to a stop.

“You alright?” Harry was at your side, and the young girl took a step back.

“Sorry—I’m sorry.” She gave a weak smile. “I just wish the best for you two.”

She was already walking off when you mustered up the words to thank her, but you were doubtful she heard you. Harry’s arm was in a tight grip around your backside, with his keys hung in his hand, ready to run.

The two of you cancelled your lunch plans and hit In-N-Out instead.

September 24, 2019 Los Angeles, California

“Is it okay?”

It was a Tuesday; you had a clear agenda for the day, and it was a little after lunch that you found yourself aimlessly clicking through channels, with your boyfriend sitting down by your feet, flipping through the pages of your current read.

You had felt the undeniable ache since the night before, and you thought maybe if you just ignore it, it’ll go away, but it only lingered, taunting you with its insatiable lust.

The itch you don’t want to scratch.

Your heart was racing, your palms were sweaty, and it didn’t matter how tightly you squeezed your legs together, nothing could rid you of this.

“H,” You poked his leg with your toe. “Bear with me on this, okay?” He didn’t respond, but he carefully set your book back down on the coffee table. “Will you have sex with me real quick?”

“I…you want to?”

“Do you have condoms? Because if not, I can take care of this myself—”

“Yes, yes, I have them. I have—they’re upstairs.”

And there you were, minutes later, his cock was inside of you, and he slowly rolled his hips carefully into you, dipping his toes into the water. He physically cannot express how much this meant to him, and how long he hid this desire deep in his gut, because God forbid he be the one to bring it up. If he had to wank off in the bathroom in between commercial breaks until you decided you were ready to have sex again, he’d find a way to tolerate it.

“Is it okay?” He choked out in between breaths; only minutes in, and he was cradling dangerously on the edge.

“Yeah—yeah, it’s okay. It feels good.” You readjusted your hips, stretching your leg out to wrap around his. “Maybe a little faster?”

“I’ll cum in a second—” He shook his head, halting his movements when that tiny, little knot inched closer to unravelling. “Just give me a sec.”

“Babe—”

“Hold—” He reached his arm under the bend of your knee, lifting it up as he thrusted back into you. “Fuck—”

He was relentless; you stretched your hand down between your thighs, rubbing and kneading that small bundle of nerves as his cock hit deep within you with no sign of letting up.

It had been way too long.

“Harry—fuck—” It was deep, pulsating, and you lifted your hips up as your orgasm radiated throughout your every limb, tightening around his cock as he thrusted hard, giving you one last nudge of pleasure as his grip tightened around the sheets, fucking into you with a lasting, animalistic moan, cumming thick ropes into you.

You made him access the condom, triple checking there wasn’t a hole unbeknownst to either of you, and after a fourth overview, he politely asked you if he could throw away his used condom now.

You would be okay this time.

He ran a bath a little later, and you submerged your body deep within the bubbles, letting them rest at your jawline. You felt like you lost your virginity all over again.

“H?” You asked, rubbing the bubbles up your arm.

“Yes, pet?”

“Do you want to get married?”

The question caught him, and he cracked his eyes open with curiosity. “I want to, yeah. You know I do.”

The conversation had only been passed around once, when you were terribly drunk and crying over some sob film where the boyfriend dies before they have a chance to elope despite their parent’s protests. The film stuck with you for weeks, and you always wondered, if you knew you were with the one, why wait? Why wait for tragedy to strike?

“Let’s get married.”

He chuckled, wiggling his toes against yours. “You’re mental.”

“No, I’m serious. Why wait? Seriously? I love you, you love me, and we aren’t getting any younger.”

“Pet, you’re 24.”

“And only getting older!”

“So, you want to find some Little White Chapel in Vegas and get hitched?” He leaned up a little, a smirk stretching out on his face.

“I want a real wedding, of course, someday, but right now…let’s do it. Let’s go to Vegas or Miami or somewhere, and just do it.”

It took an hour, but he eventually agreed, and was on the phone with Jeff to arrange a flight and hotel. The next day, the two of you ran around downtown to every consignment shop in the city, looking for a white dress – not as hard as you thought it would be – a diamond ring – a little tough, but you found one for cheap – and a nice pair of heels in your size – a lot harder; you bought a size too big by accident.

And in 24 hours, you would be marrying your best friend.

Miami, FL September 26, 2019

“Shit…fuck, we’re actually doing this?” You stuffed a wad of tissue paper into the toe box of your heels – one size too big – and stood up to test them for a final time. “No going back?”

“Cold feet, pet?”

“No, I’m fucking—it’s humid in here.” You swing around to face him, fanning yourself off with a loose People magazine, and its then you see him standing smugly in his slacks, a proper grin etching itself across his face.

“Cold feet—the expression, pet…”

“Harry—fuck, I’m nervous. My shoes are too big, I feel a pimple forming on my chin, and I’m pretty sure the wire in my bra broke ten minutes ago because something is stabbing my tit.”

“Well, I think your tits look great.”

“You can thank that bombshell bra I bought years ago for that.” You stroll back over to the sofa and toss the magazine carelessly onto the coffee table. “Did you have them sign an MDMA?”

“NDA, and Jeff got that covered.” Harry combs back a piece of his hair, that one strand that always gives him trouble. “Hold onto this for me?” You watch as he removes his H ring, and strolls over to the sofa. “Put it in your bra—can’t lose much in there.”

“You’re hilarious.”

“And you’re my wife.” His fucking smug grin falls over him like a tidal wave, and you wish you could just slap it right off his face.

“No, I’m not.”

“Give it a couple minutes.”

Your heart hurled itself up into your esophagus, the tremorous pounding radiating all throughout your head to your toes. Harry appeared quite relaxed as he staggered to the full-length mirror to adjust his collar, and from the reflection, he caught your watchful stare.

“Your mom is going to be pissed.” You think back to Anne, and all the good she’s done for you, and you are now repaying her by having her miss her son’s wedding. “We’ll need to plan the real thing soon.”

“We’ll tell her when we want to tell her, but for now,” he swung around on his heel to face you, “This is about you and me…and the rest of our lives.”

You make a mental note to thank Niall later.

You think back to those years ago, and how you almost bailed on Niall that night to stay home and watch The Young and the Restless with your roommate. You weren’t thrilled to get that phone call, but as long as Niall agreed to pay for a couple drinks, you found it in yourself to put on a pair of pants and enjoy a night out.

And maybe if you had inclined to stay home, your entire life would be a completely different world right now. Maybe you’d be in somebody else’s kitchen helping them prepare dinner, or on some lavish vacation with a guy you only met a month ago, or maybe you’d be alone in your apartment, binging a new show to pass the time you only let flutter by.

But you were here now, standing at an alter that smelled roughly of cigarettes and mildew, wearing shoes that were too big on you, in a dress that probably saw more weddings than you ever will, holding the hands of the man you were prepared to love for the rest of your life.

Nothing seemed to matter anymore, not the harassing, not the attack, not the stalking. It didn’t matter what anybody threw at you anymore; you were hard as fucking stone, and not a single person was going to damage what the two of you were building.

“You may now kiss your bride.”

#harry styles imagine #saaf series #miscarriage mention #miscarriage tw #harry styles #harry styles smut #one direction imagine #one direction

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melanielocke · 3 years

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Lost in the Shadows - Chapter 21

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Taglist: @nott-the-best @foxglove-airmid @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @justanormaldemon @styxdrawings @ipromiseiwillwrite @a-dream-dirty-and-bruised

Previous Chapter: Chapter 20

Next Chapter: Chapter 22

Cordelia returned to the entrance with the dead werewolf for a second time when Alastair had figured out how to operate the water mechanism. It was confusing, apparently there was a sewer system, but it was closed off and that’s why the flood water didn’t recede. Now it was, and Cordelia realized there were even more doors and corridors where the water had been. Perhaps the flood had been on purpose. Solving this couldn’t be impossible, but it could be a pain and Tatiana had probably designed it in such a way that it could take some time to solve.

‘Lucie, are you still up there?’

‘We’re alright!’ It wasn’t Lucie, but Thomas calling back down.

‘We solved the water mechanism and can now access the lower floor!’ Cordelia called back. ‘Alastair is in a different room, he’s trying to solve a puzzle to reveal… I don’t know what it will reveal but we figured it was important. Also, we found a few keys but for some reason they break after opening a door with them. Most so far led to dead end rooms with another key.’

‘Ah, that’s annoying,’ Thomas said. ‘Probably part of the puzzle though. I think it’s common in game dungeons that you can use a key on any locked door in the area but only once.’

Cordelia frowned. ‘That makes no sense,’ she called back.

‘I guess she could have made different keys for every door as well, but this works. Good luck, and come here if you need anything!’

Cordelia hesitated. ‘Is Lucie alright?’

‘Yes, just taking a nap. She reversed the changes but it’s tiring, so she’s trying to conserve energy. Right now, everything is as it was when we entered, but I’ll keep watch.’

‘Alright, I’ll be back,’ Cordelia called up.

‘Good luck.’

Cordelia returned into the dungeon. Alastair was no longer in the room with the puzzle, instead he was standing in the corridor that was formerly flooded. It smelled disgusting down there, and Alastair seemed quite vexed by it.

‘The bloody thing broke again!’

‘What?’

‘The key! I solved the sliding block puzzle, which was more of a physical effort than a mental one considering the blocks were heavy to move, but the only reward was another bloody key. So I figured I’d be careful with it and open this door here, and the key broke again.’

‘Thomas thinks that might be part of the puzzle design,’ Cordelia said. ‘Every key can only be used once. What’s behind that door?’

The key mechanism was a bit odd. Cordelia had tried to cut down another door, but there had been another magical barrier there. A key had been able to open it by sticking it into the air, which made no sense. Then the key had broken. None of the keys had opened the former door to Grace’ skin though, but if the design of this thing made any sense, she suspected there would be a special key. Cordelia hoped sticking the special key into the magical barrier would do the trick.

‘Another room with another puzzle. Come see.’

Cordelia took the ladder to descend into the lower floor and entered the room Alastair was in. It was a room lit by torches, one door on the other end. Along the walls were thick green vines that had overgrown another door. There was a table in the center with a cauldron, several bottles of differently colored liquids, and a recipe on a piece of paper.

Cordelia guessed it was a good thing there was another door, several of the previous rooms had been dead ends, with another puzzle to reveal another key. She suspected this one would take them deeper into the dungeon, which she imagined was where they needed to be.

‘I think we’re supposed to make a weed killer here.’ Alastair said. ‘We could probably bypass this with cortana.’

Cordelia wasn’t so sure. ‘Every time I tried to cheat with cortana, there was still a magical barrier. It looks like all the ingredients are here at least. All we have to do is follow the recipe.’

Following the recipe was not as easy as it sounded. Not all bottles were labeled, and they had to compare pictures. Some of the bottles looked very similar and were hard to distinguish on the drawing. Still, Alastair seemed sure of what he was doing. Cordelia not so much.

‘You’re not supposed to add that yet!’ Cordelia yelled.

‘Yes, I do,’ Alastair groaned. ‘It’s right here.’

‘No, that’s this bottle,’ Cordelia insisted.

‘No it’s not.’

‘And after that, you add exactly three petals of this flower,’ Cordelia added.

‘You do it then,’ Alastair said, putting down the bottle and stepping away from the potion.

Cordelia thankfully took his place and added a different bottle which she believed was the correct one. Not much later they were having a similar discussion, arguing about which of the two remaining bottles needed to emptied into the cauldron and which one was to be discarded.

‘You’re so bloody stubborn,’ Cordelia groaned. ‘Can’t you just accept that I’m right?’

‘I would if you were actually right,’ Alastair said in a superior tone. ‘As it is, I’m absolutely certain you need to use this bottle.’

Cordelia checked the instructions once more and guessed maybe Alastair was right. The drawing was inconclusive to say the least.

‘Alright, I’ll try this one. But if it all blows up, I’m blaming you.’

‘I can live with that. Just do it.’

Cordelia took the bottle Alastair believed was the right one, and emptied it over the cauldron, stirring three times counter clockwise as described.

‘This should be it.’

‘It didn’t explode,’ Alastair said. ‘So I’m hopeful that means it works.’

‘Help me carry this.’

Cordelia was quite strong herself after years of training with cortana, but carrying an entire cauldron of this stuff to the vines was a two person job.

The vines receded, allowing them to reach the door and open it. Cordelia was very thankful this door could simply be opened and was not dependent on another key.

‘This is turning into a bloody maze,’ Alastair said, looking into the next corridor.

He had a point, the door led into a corridor with several others branching off. The pathways were much narrower than before, just wide enough for the two of them, and dimly lit by torches high up.

‘We don’t happen to have a thread, do we?’ Cordelia asked.

‘No, but we can find our way through,’ Alastair promised. ‘You just need to stay with me Layla.’

‘I’ll go warn Thomas first,’ Cordelia said. ‘That we’re entering a maze and it might be some time until we make it through.’

Cordelia climbed up to the first room as quick as she could and shouted upward. ‘Everything still alright there?’

‘Lucie just did the spell again, but she’s getting really tired, she’s taking another nap. I’m not so sure she could do it again.’

‘The next room is a maze and we’re not sure how long it will take,’ Cordelia called back.

‘Are you sure you won’t get lost?’

‘With Alastair’s memory, we can retrace our steps. He can draw a map in his head.’

‘Alright, good luck!’

Cordelia returned to Alastair, who was waiting in front of the door, and the two of them entered the maze together, Cordelia staying close to her brother.

‘I already checked this corridor and it’s a dead end,’ Alastair said.

‘We can try that one,’ Cordelia said, pointing at a corridor to the right that seemed to branch off in several other corridors.

Cordelia followed her brother and it didn’t take long for her to have no clue where she was or how to get back. The maze was dimly lit by torches and Cordelia wondered if those were magic too, or if someone had lit them recently. Their pace was slow, Alastair glancing around, careful to take in enough information to keep track of the location. There were decorations on the wall, old Corinthian style pillar like structures. They weren’t quite pillars as they were part of the wall. There was a relief, something Roman or Greek, even though they were in Scotland and the Romans had never made it here. Perhaps Tatiana liked the classics, she created this right?

Cordelia wondered how someone could create such a structure. It undoubtedly involved making a deal first, although perhaps Lucie had the power to shape things here on her own. Would she be able to make a maze like this too?

They reached a dead end and Alastair turned back, choosing another corridor. Cordelia couldn’t be sure it wasn’t the one they’d been in before, everything looked so similar, but she trusted Alastair knew what he was doing.

‘I must say this is a proper defense,’ Alastair said. ‘Chances of getting lost in here are pretty high if you don’t know what you’re doing.’

‘They say that in a maze, you should put one hand on the wall and follow that wall so that your hand never leaves it,’ Cordelia said.

‘That would work eventually, but takes forever,’ Alastair said.

Cordelia stepped on something hard. ‘Hang on for a moment,’ she said as she bent down, taking the object into her hand.

It was a key, just like the others. ‘That one could have been easy to miss,’ Cordelia said, putting the key in her pocket. ‘Good thing I stepped on it.’

‘Not another key,’ Alastair groaned. ‘How many more of these things are out here?’

‘I don’t want to know,’ Cordelia said. ‘But I’m glad we found it now and don’t reach the exit and realize there we missed a key somewhere.’

‘I think if that happened, I would murder Tatiana, ask Lucie to bring me her ghost and then murder her again.’

Cordelia couldn’t say she disagreed. She guessed exploring such an underground structure would be fun in a video game, but in real life it involved a lot of walking and if you failed at something you couldn’t always just try again.

After some more time of trying different paths and Alastair telling her where to go next, they reached a door with a lock on it. The exit.

Cordelia tried her key and it fit. Once again, it broke off while Cordelia opened the door, rendering the key useless but the door opened.

‘Stupid key,’ Alastair muttered, along with a string or Persian curse words he would never have dared speak in their mother’s presence.

‘At least the door is open.’

The next room was a large dome shaped hall, much lighter than the others. There was an opening to the surface at the top of the room that let light from outside in, but they would never be able to reach it from here. Nor would they fit through, as there were bars blocking the exit.

There were no doors apart from the once through which they entered, and in the middle of the room on an elevated platform was a key.

‘If I were to design this dungeon to keep something of mine safe, this would definitely be a trap.’

‘I agree,’ Cordelia said. ‘But that key has to be the one to Grace’ skin.’

It was a golden key, bigger than the others. This had to be it. If it were a video game, the dungeon would probably end in a fight against some monster who was here to guard the key, but Cordelia had already fought a werewolf, and besides, where would a monster come from here? There was nowhere it could be hidden. But there could be a number of deadly traps on the platform itself.

Cordelia held cortana in front of her and carefully took a step closer until her sword reached the key. She used the dull edge to make sure the key wasn’t harmed in the process, and pulled it towards her, off the platform. She carefully picked up the key from the ground. As she did, the door behind her slammed shut.

‘Now you’ve done it,’ Alastair groaned, turning back and trying to open the door.

Locked, just as expected. She had the key, but now they had no way out. Water started filling up the room, slowly at first, but progressively faster.

‘There has to be a solution!’ Cordelia said. ‘Some way to stop the water and get the door to open.’

‘There’s no time! I knew it was a trap.’

The water reached Cordelia’s waist already. It was cold water, chilled her to the bone. If they didn’t drown, they might as well die from hypothermia.

‘Yes, we both did. But at least I have the key.’

‘Which is no use if we don’t get out of here,’ Alastair hissed. ‘We’ve come too far to drown in gross water.’

***

Thomas was growing worried. He hadn’t heard a thing from Alastair or Cordelia ever since they’d mentioned they had to go into a maze next. Which made sense, going into a maze might take a while and they might not be able to report back as easily anymore. If anyone could navigate a maze, it was Alastair. With his memory, he’d know where he’d been and where to go. He would be able to trace his own route back. They could do this. But Thomas had no idea what else was waiting down there. It seemed to be a rule that there had to be a solution, but that didn’t mean there weren’t any deadly traps.

Lucie was napping. Thomas didn’t think she was really asleep, but at least lying down as comfortably as she could with her eyes closed allowed her some rest. It was becoming difficult for her, Thomas could tell. The wall had changed again, the first sign, but Thomas wasn’t sure if he should wake Lucie already. It was only the first change, it wasn’t coming close to the land of the thief of souls yet.

Lucie sat up for a moment, rubbing her eyes, smudging some dark make up into the corner of her eye. ‘That’s odd,’ she said.

‘What is?’

‘There’s a ghost here,’ she said. ‘Just behind you.’

Thomas instinctively looked before realizing, of course, he wasn’t going to see a ghost.

Lucie tilted her head, her gaze fixated on something behind Thomas. ‘Well, I think it’s a ghost. But it looks like how people portray ghosts in movies, not the way ghosts usually look. White and transparent.’

‘I don’t see anything,’ Thomas said. ‘So that probably confirms it’s a ghost. Can you make them visible?’

Lucie looked into the distance, her gaze fixated on something Thomas did not see. ‘Show yourself.’ There was an air of authority in her voice, she was no longer asking, she was commanding.

A woman appeared in the middle of the ruins. She didn’t seem as Lucie had described, she did not look like a movie ghost, nor was she transparent. She looked vaguely familiar but Thomas couldn’t tell why. She had to be in her early thirties, he guessed. Long brown hair, kind eyes. Upon closer look, they seemed greenish, a rare color. Similar to his father’s eyes though.

‘Who are you?’ Lucie asked.

‘My name is Barbara. Barbara Lightwood.’

Thomas’ mouth fell open. ‘No, it can’t be. You’re not her.’

Barbara was his sister. Barbara was twenty three and had recently graduated as a nurse. Barbara was in Paris with her boyfriend Oliver, and they were having fun. She wasn’t a ghost. The woman did resemble Barbara, but Thomas could tell it wasn’t her. For one, she was too old. Some of the features didn’t match. His sister Barbara had brown eyes, this woman’s eyes were green like his father’s. But he had to admit the resemblance was startling. Then it hit him. His grandmother, Benedict’s wife, was also called Barbara. His father had named Thomas’ eldest sister Barbara in her memory, just like Thomas himself had been named after a close friend of his mother’s who’d died young. This woman was his grandmother, who’d died when his father was five.

‘What do you mean?’ the woman asked. ‘You do not know me, do you? Can you tell me where I am? I need to get home as soon as I can. My children aren’t safe. My husband is up to something and I need to get the children and run before something happens to them.’

‘Do not worry. Your children are fine,’ Lucie said.

Thomas wasn’t so sure that was true, but he suspected Barbara didn’t realize how much time had passed. She believed she had very young children who were with her husband. His father had been around five when she died. It occurred to Thomas that she’d figured out what he was up to. She’d tried to run. Thomas had never realized, he didn’t think his father had either. Was trying to leave why she’d died? Thomas had been told abusive partners were at their most dangerous when one tried to leave.

‘No, they’re not,’ Barbara insisted. She looked terrified. ‘I do not know what it is Benedict’s doing, but it’s bad and I cannot allow him to be around my children. It is not safe for them. I will contact my brother Silas, we can stay with him until I have it all worked out and know we’re safe from Benedict. I had it all planned out.’

‘You died,’ Lucie said. ‘Ghosts do not always realize. You’ve been dead for a very long time. Your children are all grown up.’

Barbara turned to Thomas and took him in. She squinted, taking all of him in. ‘You look so much like him… Is that you, are you my Gideon? I always knew you were going to grow to be very tall.’

Thomas tried to hide the tears in the corners of his eyes. It was all becoming a bit much. ‘No, my name is Thomas. Thomas Lightwood. Gideon Lightwood is my father. And he’s not as tall as me, although he is still taller than average.’

‘Your father… How long has it been? He was five, the last time I saw him. Just this high.’ She held up her hand to indicate how tall his father had been,.

‘He’s forty five now,’ Thomas said.

‘It’s been forty years?’ Barbara’s mouth fell open. ‘I’ve been gone for that long? And my children have grown up without me. I should have been there for them, I should not have left them alone in that big house. Benedict has gone mad.’

‘Benedict died years ago,’ Thomas assured her. ‘We’re all safe from him.’

‘I think it’s the same as with Jesse,’ Lucie said. ‘He didn’t remember anything from where he’d been, and I don’t think Barbara does either. Jesse did realize he was dead, but he could only tell how long it’s been because he recognized me and saw I’d aged.’

‘Where have I been?’ Barbara asked. ‘The last thing I remember is packing up to leave. I had to make sure he didn’t find out, so I hid a suitcase in my closet and secretly packed whatever I would need. He never looks there. I packed clothes, the children’s toys. All my jewelry so I’d have some funds.’

‘What happened after?’ Thomas asked. ‘Did he find out you were trying to leave?’

Barbara closed her eyes, as if she was trying to remember. ‘He did find my suitcase. He realized I planned to leave with the children. He got so mad, I don’t think I’d ever been so scared. I wanted to run, damn the suitcase, but Tatiana was in the nursery and Gabriel was in the play room, and I had to get to them first. I couldn’t leave without my babies. And then he went into his study and although I didn’t understand why, I rushed to my children. I thought I’d get Gabriel and Tatiana, get in the car and go to my brother, and then I could pick Gideon up from school. But I don’t think I ever reached my children. That is the last thing I remember.’

‘That must have been when he made the deal,’ Lucie said. ‘Perhaps he didn’t want to at first, or at least had some doubts, but when he realized Barbara was leaving he decided to make her the sacrifice.’

‘What did he do to me?’ Barbara’s voice broke as she asked that question.

‘Uhm, we’re not completely sure,’ Thomas said. ‘But we think he traded your soul for power. We’re still figuring out what’s going on or why you’re here. We think you can’t remember anything because you were with the thief of souls.’

Was that why she’d appeared more ghost like than usual? Perhaps because she’d been in the realm of the thief of souls, and they were in between, so she was only half there. Perhaps by demanding she show herself, Lucie had pulled her through. Would there be a cost if they set her free? Thomas imagined it wasn’t the same as trading him for Jesse, Benedict must have promised his wife and he never remarried so he didn’t have another wife for the thief of souls to take. Besides, Lucie hadn’t made a deal. She’d taken Barbara away from him, perhaps she could take her into their world as well.

‘I don’t understand,’ Barbara said. ‘He killed me, you say? But what then? Who is the thief of souls? Why can’t I remember?’

Thomas frowned, and then turned to Lucie. ‘Could you make her remember?’

‘I command you to remember what happened the past years.’

Barbara stared blankly. ‘I still don’t remember anything.’

‘That doesn’t work,’ Lucie mused. ‘Perhaps if Alastair helps me. Memory is his domain, ghosts are mine, perhaps if we somehow combine our powers we can help her remember.’

‘They haven’t checked in in a while,’ Thomas said. ‘I think it’s because they went into a maze and it takes longer, but I have no clue how they’re doing.’

‘If anyone can do it, it’s them,’ Lucie said. ‘They won’t get lost.’

‘I don’t understand what you are discussing,’ Barbara said. ‘What happened after I died? My husband killed me. But my children, they are fine? He didn’t hurt them?’

‘Mostly,’ Thomas said. ‘They grew up in Benedict’s house, and I think it wasn’t easy for them. They didn’t realize at the time just how dangerous it was what he was doing.’

Thomas guessed perhaps Benedict did somewhat care about his children, perhaps he would be proud that Tatiana was following in his footsteps. Perhaps it was what he would have wanted for his father and uncle Gabriel. But he was also the kind of man who’d neglected his children, expected them to be his heirs rather than human beings.

‘My father found out eventually, with the help of my mother, Sophie. And then Benedict turned into a giant worm, we’re not sure why exactly, and was killed. I think it was difficult, for them, to process, but my father and uncle Gabriel found ways to cope with it and found support.’

Thomas wasn’t sure exactly how much damage had never healed, but he suspected it was part of why his father cared so much about Alastair. Because like him, Alastair had never had a father he could love or respect. What would it take for Alastair to see that Thomas’ father cared about him, and not just his ability?

Barbara frowned. ‘And Tati? What happened to her?’

Thomas wasn’t sure how to tell her this. The last she remembered of her daughter was a one year old girl, a baby. He sighed, there was no easy way to say this but he couldn’t keep it from her. ‘Tatiana had a son. Jesse was his name. And at some point in his life, Benedict had promised a grandchild to the same being he sacrificed you to. The choice came down to me or Jesse. So when Jesse was twelve and I was nearly fourteen, he died. And now Tatiana made a deal to bring him back. We have not been on good terms with her in a long time.’

He heard a sound from beneath the trap door, something he could not make out. Thomas shone down with his flashlight and realized it was water. Water gushing into the hall, slowly flooding the area. Thomas’ breathing quickened. The place was flooding. Alastair and Cordelia were still in there. They were going to drown, and there was nothing Thomas could do about it. But perhaps Lucie could.

‘Lucie!’

‘What is it?’

‘The dungeon, it’s flooding and Alastair and Cordelia are still down there.’

In the distance, Thomas heard a song. He could make out a sweet feminine voice that sounded like the sea and all he wanted was to go to her. He forgot about Alastair and Cordelia, he forgot about his worries. The song, the girl, she was all that mattered. He would do whatever she asked of him, no questions asked. Why should he? There was nothing he wanted more than to serve her, to be near her always. He could not remember what else there was for him.

#Alastair Carstairs #Cordelia Carstairs #Thomas Lightwood #Lucie Herondale #Thomastair #Lucelia #fanfiction #the last hours #tlh

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poptod · 3 years

Text

Cambridge Ghouls pt. 3 (Ahkmenrah x Reader)

Description: Your friend’s antics has pulled you and Ahk out of your comfortable library and into Scotland.

Notes: been a hot minute since i updated this so renewal on what is going on here: you are a zombie named crayon who lives on the grounds of cambridge university. your friends are ahk, a revived mummy; amy, a ghost; phillip, a vampire; rose, a corpse; and benjamin, a human. i wrote and came up w this while high and i feel like im following in the footsteps of shawn, the writer of natm. enjoy the story i tacked onto the one drawing i made WC: 6.8k

The pressure of your head on his shoulder, face hidden in the beaded cloth of his collar, was the only sensation he cared to feel. Early hours of night often lead to this position––cradled in blankets, trying to learn English, and trying to cope with the new world the both of you were vomited into. Tonight was much the same, though the familiar warmth of the hearth was cold in the dusty dark of the library room.

Your friends had yet to join you, a fact that had Ahk glancing at the door every five minutes. It was unlike them to take so long. If he had to guess, he'd surmise they'd gotten into a spot of mischief, and were held up with their own problems. That happened an unfortunate amount of times, but Ahk didn't mind much, as it often left the two of you in peace and quiet. While the four of them cavorted off on school grounds, he kissed the top of your head.

"- and did I ever tell you where I got that from?" came from behind the door, muffled but growing steadily closer. The footfalls of several people followed, and Ahk assumed it was his friends finally visiting you and him.

The door slamming open startled you into a jump that pushed your cat off your lap, knocking Ahk's jaw as you frantically scanned the room. His lower teeth clashed with his upper, sending a sharp wave of pain through his skull, one that quickly dissipated upon seeing his friends. Phillip, leading the pack, was talking loud and fast with wildly fast hand movements, and was clearly not being understood by anyone present. Amy followed close behind, floating above the heads of the others for ease. Then came a very distressed-looking Ben, whose usual soft features were contorted into panic.

Phillip continued talking for a minute, unchallenged for attention, until Ahk, who grew easily irritated at times, finally stopped him.

"Phil!" He said, his accent still twisting his words. "None of us can understand you."

"Wh -" he paused at last, looking to each of them, "I – Ben lost my violin!"

"A what?" Ahk said, taken aback.

"I'm sorry!" said Ben in a fluster.

"He did what?!" said Amy.

You stumbled over quietly, hanging off of Ahk's arm as you attempted to listen.

"I got that violin from my grandfather, crafted out of this beautiful wood and enchanted, and... ohh! You are so irritating sometimes," Phillip whined, growing into a growl as he pointed a finger at Ben.

"Enchanted? What, like a magic violin?" Amy asked.

"Precisely like a magic violin," Phillip said with a sigh, looking dramatically morose. What else could you expect of a vampire from the 1600's?

"Can someone please tell me what a violin is?" Ahk said, glancing between Ben, Amy, and Phillip.

"It's an instrument like the harp or lyre," Amy quickly explained. "Ben borrowed a 'special' violin from Phil after almost failing music class."

"I can't afford to fail another class," Ben moaned, "I'm already two classes over the limit, and my parents can only do so much."

"Mein Gott," Phil said under his breath.

"Is your grandfather going to be mad?" Ben asked nervously, turning to Phil.

"No, they're not hard for him to make. He's just the only one who's capable of making them, and the wood is very specific. It's the only kind that can channel pure magic."

"So... the Tree of Life," Ahk said. He had his hands folded beneath his chin, eyes concentrated on the vampire.

"Something like that. It's just – look, I need that violin, too. We can go and try to find that tree and ask my grandfather to make another, and you can use it to pass the class, but after that it comes back to me. Don't take music next year," Phillip said, turning to face Ben.

"Damn it," Ben cursed. "Fine. Deal."

"Wonderful," Phillip said with a curt smile, shaking Ben's hand firmly.

Once he let go, Phillip went straight to the bookcase, supernaturally fast eyes scanning the many titles. Ahkmenrah watched on for a moment in mild confusion before his attention was diverted to you, your weight falling onto him as you leaned.

"Careful there," he murmured, helping to rebalance you. You wouldn't understand him, but the sentiment was there, and you stayed close-by.

Ben, being a tall lad, looked over Phillip's shoulder every time he pulled a book down. While he did that you got distracted by your cat Winchester purring at your feet, kneeling down to gather him in your clumsy arms. The undead cat––much like you––didn't weigh much after the rot.

"Amy, are these books up-to-date on their information?" Phillip asked, ignoring Ben's breathing in his ear.

"Why should I know that?"

"Because you know an absurd amount of things that don't really matter except for in certain, usually odd instances," Phillip replied without looking up.

"... most of them are up to date," she mumbled. Phillip thanked her before promptly returning to his search.

You tugged on Ahk's sleeve again, opening your mouth to say something but only a soft whine leaving you. He took your hand, facing you with concerned eyes, but said nothing. Instead he scanned your expression, waiting to see if you would motion or signify anything. You wouldn't understand his words, anyway.

"Hunngryy.." you suddenly breathed out, your fingers coming to rest on high on his cheek, dragging down to the end of his jaw. His eyes widened.

"Hungry?" He repeated.

Ahk turned to the others, contemplating how he would get you something to eat. There was no food in the library, and very little food in the whole of the school, what with the winter break nearing. Best choice would be to keep with the others, he decided.

"You'll be alright for a little bit, right?" He asked you. You showed no signs of any reaction, only staring at your fingers touching his face.

"Ahk, we need to go to Scotland," Phillip said, snapping a book shut and sliding it back into its' place on the bookshelf.

"What? Why?"

"Because of the British," he seethed, promptly whipping around and walking out the door.

Ahk watched on in his usual state of confusion, but knew better than to ask questions. As much of a leader as he was born and bred to be, he was happy to follow the vampire's lead, to look after you as the others panicked about their petty things.

So he took your hand––followed only when everyone else was out the door, and locked the library behind him, fingers still entwined with yours. Though your hands were in a constant clumsy blunder, you tried your best to keep still in his touch. He never minded. Your fingers, while a little cool, had a forgiving magic that calmed him easily.

Brisk night air hit his face the moment he exited the school, following his friends through the grassy fields growing outside the brick and mortar building. Disappointing as it was unavoidable, none of the stars showed in the sky, blurred by the bright streetlamps lining the puddle-filled roads. The distinct scent of rain––petrichor––intoxicated the air he breathed, a leftover of the rains plaguing the city all day. Cars passed by, though luckily not often, as the sound of a roaring engine followed by rainwater splashing up his leg was not something Ahk enjoyed. His beautiful, golden robes never fared well in dreary English weather.

You showed no aversion to the cold or the wet. He had never seen you shiver, or wipe rain off yourself, or avoid stepping in puddles. You tried to stay out of mud, yes, but that was about it.

Phillip paused at the roadside, glancing out at the street with wide, searching eyes. Ben joined him on his right, and the two of them began to look for a cab, a fact that Ahk only knew because it was how they always got around. Once you caught up to Ahk halting, you bumped into his shoulder. Winchester followed you in a quick strut, ever loyal to his owner. For a second you stumbled back, but with a tug from him you were centered, once again resting part of your weight on him. Without him, you slouched in a noticeably-undead way.

"Can I ask what we're doing?" Ahk asked Amy, though he kept his eyes on the two men trying to hail a cab.

"One moment," she said.

A second later and he noticed the car driving up, rolling wheels flicking water onto the shined ends of Ben's tailored shoes. He stepped back with a gasp, backing into Phillip, who quickly pushed him away. Once the cab came to a full stop, Phillip made his way to the front window to speak with the driver. After a quick conversation, the five of you crammed into the back of the cab, your knees held up high to your chests with each of your hands in your respective laps.

"Now can I ask what we're doing?" Ahk asked again.

"We're going to Scotland to get the tree," Amy said.

"It's a specific strain that doesn't exist in England, but there should be a few up in the highlands," Phillip further explained.

"Are we taking a cab all the time?"

His slip-up in english was overlooked as Phillip said, "we're getting to the train station. Won't be a comfy car but we should get there in time."

"We'll need you two to get the tickets for us. They see Ahkmenrah, or Crayon, they're going to ask questions. If they see me, well... um.. I suppose I could just act like a ghost," Amy said, trailing off as she thought strategically.

"Good point. And we need an excuse for when they come to check our tickets," Phillip said as he leaned inward into the group, his right leg bouncing up and down.

"Movies! Or – or a musical, how's that work?" Ben suggested in a sudden moment of brilliance, a wide smile matching his sporting tone.

"Good idea, for once. And – wait," Phillip paused, "is the screen between us and the driver...?"

"It's there," Amy said, sparking a sigh of relief out of Phil.

"Gott sei Dank," Phil mumbled.

For the next 10 minutes of driving that should've been six without traffic, the three of them discussed the technicalities, the lies they would have to formulate in order to achieve their goal. In that time you began to gnaw on your fingers, hunger tearing at your already shoddy intestines. Ahk scolded you twice, though it never worked, and the third time he did so you whined and hid your face in him. He sighed quietly, leaning in to kiss the top of your head.

As the cab began to slow to a halt, Benjamin pulled out his wallet, handing several notes to the driver through the tray given. With that the five of you stumbled out of the tiny black automobile, watching it speed off only to stop at the next hailing woman.

"Alright, you guys wait out here. Benjamin and I will be back in a couple minutes," Phillip said, halting you, Ahk, and Amy beside a bench near the entrance.

Though clearly irritated by the command, Amy took the invisible seat beside the bench. Ahk took a seat as well, and you easily followed, fidgeting with the skin on your hands.

"How long will they take do you think?" Ahk asked.

"Ten minutes maybe? Neither of them have great... people skills," Amy said hesitantly, her eyes never leaving the doors of the station.

A tug on his head stopped him from asking for clarification, and instead he turned back to you, patiently but quietly asking what you were doing. You hummed something unintelligible, continuing to pull at his crown. To spare himself the headache he took it off for you, handing the heavy gold to you, and chuckling softly when you couldn't quite carry it.

To your side sat Winchester, who gingerly sniffed the shining metal before shrinking away in disdain. You mumbled something again before landing a kiss on top of the cat's head.

"I'm going to need that back, you know," Ahk said with a chuckle, bringing your attention back to him.

You just tilted your head and smiled, slightly spaced out but eyes filled with a warmth. Every now and then he glimpsed this, this spirit that had nothing to give but kindness, who shone from the best center a human can have; honest adoration for another. You raised your hand, tangling your fingers in his dark hair and ruffling the curls there.

For a moment you tried to say something, but as it continually didn't come out right, you instead attempted bopping his nose with your fingertip. Attempted meaning not successfully; you missed and almost poked him in the eye, but Ahk flinched and you just poked him on his cheek. He chuckled, took your hand, and kissed the back of it.

A blush of sorts took to your cheeks. Like most times, you had little idea why you were feeling strangely, and thus pulled away from his touch. He knew not to mind by now.

"Amy?"

"Mm?"

"Do you think they have any food in there?"

"Nothing that's open. Might have a coffee place still up, but... well, they might have some croissants. Bread," she said, taking a moment to think before she spoke.

"I don't think Crayon would eat it," Ahk said.

"Probably not." Amy looked past Ahk to you, watching you for a moment before continuing. "The dinner car might be open, though. Depends on how expensive the tickets are."

"Hmm," he sighed. "Thank you."

She nodded with a smile before turning back to the train station, the warm light of lamps both indoor and outdoor illuminating the empty waiting lines and streetsides. Those still outside were dressed in coats and scarves, though weren't piled up in different layers––those would have to wait for colder months, which would not come until the warmer ones came and went.

Most people ignored the three of you. Close to no light shone on the bench shadowed by the overhang, and since you kept quiet, no one bothered to spare an extra glance. In the dark, Amy was mostly invisible. You and Ahk didn't have that power, but you mostly looked like a homeless person, and Ahk... well, he wrapped himself up in his cape, and that was about the best disguise he could manage.

The door of the station clicked open, drawing all eyes to the approaching figure of Phillip, silhouetted against the lights of the station inside.

"Ben's inside, we booked a room and we're leaving in five minutes," Phillip said, almost out of breath as he stopped in front of you.

"Five minutes?" Amy asked as the three of you stood. "Rather last minute, isn't it?"

"It's a night train, no one's got tickets anyway," Phillip said, tapping the backs of each of you as you passed him, coralling you all into the building.

It wasn't warmer inside as Ahk expected, leading him to thoughtlessly tuck his arms into himself. He'd been looking forward to some warmth. Hopefully he'd find that on the train. Just as Amy surmised, most of the restaurants inside the building were closed, iron grates pulled over once-colorful shops. Ahk paused to take in what little architecture he could see in the dark, but was soon pulled away by Phillip leading the group onwards.

Once again he tapped your backs, counting each of you as you entered the halted train. You reached for Ahk's hand as you walked down the long hallway, searching for the right room number, which only Benjamin and Phillip knew. Most of the lights outside the train were dimmed by the darkened windows, and instead the way was shown by tiny lamps lining the hallways and rooms.

"Here," Ben said, stopping those ahead of him. You and Ahk turned, and the five of you piled into the little room, whose velvet seats were soon covered up by your group.

As usual, you took your seat beside Ahk, who had claimed a window seat that happened to be near the table as well. On the other side of the train car, there was nothing but empty tracks and the eerie darkness of cities at evening. You sniffed and leaned back against the Pharaoh.

"Mmm," you mumbled, turning to press your face into his side, "hunngryy."

"I know," he said softly. "Do we have a food car?"

"I don't know if they'll have any real food, but they probably have snacks," Phillip said, still situating himself in the crowded room.

Ahk looked to Amy, who shrugged.

"Might as well try," she said, and with no reason to refute her, Ahk clumsily led you past the seated legs and back into the hallway.

The train began to rumble forward as the two of you walked. You bumped into Ahk's back when it happened, but you regained balance easily, and two train cars down you found the dining car. Only one light was on, sat upon the bartop beside a single bowl of nuts. The windows, lined by red and gold curtains, showed nothing but speeding darkness outside.

You moaned uneasily, tugging on Ahk's sleeve as your eyes remained entranced upon the flickering buildings outside.

"Fast, isn't it?" He said softly, glancing to you before looking back outside. "You'll be alright?"

Of course you didn't understand his words, but seeing as he wasn't upset by the high speeds, you calmed down. He then glanced over the bar counter, searching for any food besides the bowl of nuts. Upon finding nothing his face screwed up in dissatisfaction.

"Will you eat nuts?" He asked as he took the bowl, handing it to you.

You fingered through them, pushing aside the ones you deemed inedible. He watched you for a little while––and you did take a while to sort the whole bowl––but in the end you only ate about three. It might tide you for a little while, but you would have to eat again later.

After thoroughly searching the train car, the two of you returned to the rest of your friends, who had made busy discussing the fickle state of Phillip's teeth. Phillip himself wasn't engaging much considering he didn't find the topic an agreeable conversation point, and his stubbornness had led way to Ben and Amy getting once more embroiled in debate.

"I honestly think his teeth grow. I'm pretty sure I've heard of that being a condition, and I mean, it happens to rabbits. It could happen to humans," Ben said, crossing his arms but keeping a polite tone. Amy, however, had no consideration for such niceties.

"I... I don't care to unpack all that, but we've told you this before. He's a vampire. He can retract his teeth, and that's why they have different sizes at different times," she explained in a seething voice, her teeth clearly gritted behind her lips.

"Where would someone store a retracted tooth? It's not like claws, there's no space in the skull," Ben said, completely passing over the very clear indicator of something he had yet to figure out; Phillip was a vampire.

"Tiny bit of food over there, but I'm still going to be looking," Ahk said halfheartedly to Amy, crawling in beside her on the bench. "How long's this ride supposed to be?"

"Ten hours," Phillip replied gruffly, his half-lidded eyes staring vacantly out the window. He slouched against the wall, balancing his cheek on his palm, elbow rested on the tiny desk beneath the glass.

"Oh dear," Ahk said, his voice suddenly small.

"Yes, well," Phillip sniffed, shifting in his seat, "we'll have to be quick once we get there. Our ticket back is for the coming morning."

"Wait, morning?! Have you forgotten Crayon and I can't see the sun?"

"Oh, shit, my apologies," he said, eyes wide as he remembered your unfortunate curse. He stood, smoothing out the wrinkles in his suit. "I'll, um, I'll go see the director. I'm sure I can get something sorted, trade in your tickets for, um... tomorrow night. We can get you a hotel room or something."

He left quick after that, scooting past all your legs before pushing himself out the door. A deep uneasiness settled itself inside Ahk, appearing in the form of a racing heart, and paranoid thoughts. To die, to risk seeing the dawn just for a violin, seemed to him a strange way for his story to end. He had a feeling––one that would never go away––that he would not die to the sun. Not him, the undead King of a sunkissed land. Still, just because he was somewhat-certain about himself not dying, he had you to worry about. You didn't understand the whole 'sun will kill you' thing all that well, and you had no fear regarding the morning. He would have to keep an eye on you the later into the night it got.

The stars, once clogged by streetlamps and busy restaurant lights, shone brighter in the suburbia sprawling out across the land. Very slowly the tall buildings began to fade, and the homes grew less and less frequent till each one had a personality of its' own. Grass and overgrowing flora took the place of wide, car-lined streets, and eventually the short brick walls flanking either side of the train tracks fell away to show the whole of the land.

Ahk didn't need sleep. You didn't either, but the two of you nonetheless curled into one another, dozing in the warm light as the others conversed quietly. He overheard little (considering he didn't care to listen), but the others seemed to be in good spirits despite the loss of an apparently valuable violin.

Brakes screeching outside brought him to stir, dazed eyes landing first on the pale sky, and then to you, completely zonked out. He chuckled but had no time to comment on it before Phillip was rushing the five of you out, grabbing the few coats you kept in the top rack and coralling you down the hall.

The air here had a certain taste; that was what Ahk first noticed upon exiting the train. Although the sky was already beginning to lighten, it was clear the sun would not come for a good several hours, as the stars still shone in the darker pockets of space. Rolling hills and jagged mountains surrounded him, framing the tiny train station that remained entirely unoccupied save for him and his friends. Down the grass-filled valley lay a town whose houses consisted of wood, painted dull colors but decorated with flowers, petals of red, yellow, and purple lining the brick roads. Very little light from the horizon reached the town.

Phillip hit Amy on the side. "There," he said, eyes trained on the distance as he pointed across the outdoor station, "tree groves. Looks like pine."

"Indeed it is," she said with a smile.

"Is that what we need then? A pine tree?" Ben asked.

"Well... sort of," Phillip said, shrugging.

He scanned the train stop, and in less than a second he began to go in the right direction, headed for the tall bridges that crowned the railroad. The others followed quick behind, though Ahk had to grab your hand and pull you away from the alluring lights of the town.

"Hunng..gry," you whined, stumbling over your feet as you tried in vain to escape Ahk's grasp.

"Crayon, you can't go down there," he said, feeling more and more as though he was taking care of a child. "Come now."

You whined again but made no more attempts to refuse. Once you caught up to the rest of the group, the sudden loss of speed in Ahk's step had you bumping into him again, but once your head rested on the back of his shoulder you stayed put. Each time you rested yourself on him in any way, a fluttering light would suddenly overtake him with a blush. This was only strange because you did that a lot––each night, multiple times, you would put your head on his shoulder, lean on his chest, rest your hands in his lap. Another charm of yours.

Freezing damp surrounded his feet, open to the coming breezes since he never wore anything but sandals. His state of being mostly-undead kept him from feeling a good deal of the cold, there was still a tingling numbness, apparent in all of his fingers and the tip of his nose. For the first time he shivered, helpless to the vibrations pulsing through him.

"Ah, careful here," Phillip said, slowing the pace to make way for a long, stone fence ranging all the way down into the village. "The rocks are still very wet, so..."

Amy floated on over the wall, materializing her hand to help Phillip step over. He took it with a thank you, balancing himself on her, and soon helping Ben and Ahk over as well. Even Winchester got over, his large paws landing on the stones before jumping back down into the mud and grass. Unfortunately, you were still on the other side and incredibly confused. Your head tilted to the side, brows furrowed deeply as your mouth hung half-open.

"Take my hand, dear," Ahk said as he held out his own hand, which you gingerly took.

Your grip remained as gentle as you could manage, a habit you grew after accidentally hurting Ahk, but the habit had you nearly slipping and cracking your skull further.

"Woah there," Phillip said, instinctually zipping over to catch you. "Just – sit on the rocks."

Although you didn't understand, Ahk made sure to motion to you, and you reluctantly sat on the rocks. Your face scrunched up as your pant soaked from waist to ankles. With a little help, you swung your legs over.

"Alright, good?" Phillip asked the group at large, looking to each of you. When he received all nods, he continued onwards to the nearing grove of trees, searching carefully for any dips in the terrain.

"How are you, my dear?" Ahk asked to only you, his voice a murmur in your ear. He leant in to speak more secretively, an action that made you giggle, which in turn brought a smile to his face. Of course you couldn't verbally respond, so instead you gently headbumped him in the shoulder.

The same questions as always rang in his head as he watched you, wondering if you understood any part of him at all. It was clear by now there was something in your head––you had learned the word for hunger, and you showed affection to him specifically. Was that because he was a safe space, or because you loved him? He tried to never contemplate it, as it was likely he would never get answers, even if he wanted nothing more than that.

"Alright, so, we're looking for trees that can support magic. It's relatively easy to test it," Phillip said, ducking beneath the unavoidable branches to continue through the grove. "Just concentrate your magic into the tip of your finger and put it to the tree. If it leaves a burn mark, it isn't magic, but if the light flows through the bark, it works with magic. It'll look a bit like glowing veins."

"You'd know all about that," Amy mumbled beneath her breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," she said, and he didn't pry further.

"Um, Phillip?" Ahk said slowly, raising a single brow as he scanned the forest. "How do we, um, consecrate magic?"

"Concentrate," Amy corrected.

"What? I thought you could. You're a cursed mummy, why wouldn't you have magic?" Phillip said with a frown.

"I don't have it either," Amy said, raising her hand slowly, reluctant to meet his eye.

"You're – okay, alright, it's fine. I suppose I'll... just have to check myself," he grumbled, cursing under his breath as he turned back to the woods.

"So how do we do the magic?" Ben asked quietly once Phillip had left earshot.

"Unless you come from sorcerers, we don't," said Amy.

"What's sorcerers?" Ahk asked, and although he hadn't meant to, Amy began to grow irritated.

"A type of person who uses magic. Come on, let's catch back up," she said, expertly pulling the conversation off of her, and onto the path ahead.

He didn't remember when you stopped touching him, or when Winchester had disappeared from sight, but as he looked behind him panic filled his lungs. You were not there. Actually, you weren't anywhere in sight––you, and your cat, had run off.

"Amy!" Ahk said, eyes widening as his face paled. "We've got to find Crayon!"

"Wh- you let them run off?!"

"I thought they were still with me!" Ahk cried, holding his head in his hands as dread dripped from his eyes like tears.

"Ben, go find Phillip. We have to find Crayon," Amy said, and with that Ben sped off, and Amy floated above the trees. "I'll try and find them in this direction. Go fifty paces that way and then come directly back, it won't work if you get lost as well."

"Um – what's paces?"

"Fifty steps or something," she said.

"I'm.. really sorry, what's fifty?"

She sighed but floated back to the ground, patiently taking the time to write it out in Egyptian numerals in the dirt.

"Ohhh," he mumbled. "Thank you."

"Of course. Now go," she said, pushing him back to it.

Paranoia pounded in his heart as he walked, carefully counting the number of steps he took, and carefully keeping in the right direction. Much of his concentration stayed in keeping the right path, but the good rest of it was absorbed in looking for you. He was easy to spot in both day and night with his golden robes. You, on the other hand, blended in nearly everywhere. Perhaps your cat would give you away, but he didn't rely on that happenstance.

Throughout his search he remained in high alert, paying special attention to each of his senses. As much as he wanted to run through the forest, looking for you at every turn, it would do no more than waste his energy and get him as lost as you. So he kept to his pace no matter what his instincts told him, and retraced his steps once he hit 50.

"Any sight of them?" Ahk asked once Amy appeared from among the twisting branches.

"No," she said with a curt sigh. "No sign of the cat, either."

"Damn," he cursed. "Where would they have gone?"

"I don't –"

"AMY??!"

Phillip's voice nearly echoed with the strength of it. Amy just sighed, again, but took off in the direction of the yell. He followed quick after, following her ethereal form through the pines. The two of them soon came to find Phillip and Ben standing beside a tree that, as expected, had glowing tangles of string lining up and down the bark, much like veins.

"Find it?" Ahk asked, panting slightly from the exertion of running.

"Yes, but we've run into a horrible problem," he spluttered, clearly overwhelmed by the whole of the night.

"What's that?" said Amy.

"We forgot the ax," Ben said, hiding his face in his hands in such a way that his voice came out muffled.

"Oh... fuck," she said.

Muffled grumbling dragged him out of the conversation, though seeing as no one else turned, Ahk assumed he was the sole listener. For a moment it sounded like a wild animal, and his heart began preemptively racing in its' cage. Then came movement––the rustling of bushes and trees, footsteps sloshing in the mud as though something was being dragged.

Thick, clotted blood ran down from your mouth, streaking down your shirt and staining both of your hands. Flecks of it had landed all across your torso, coloring the dull mud caked onto the shirt. Winchester stood at your side, looking lovingly up at you, and on your other side you clutched the leg of a creature long-dead.

"Crayon," Ahk whispered out, and the conversation behind him fell silent, all eyes turning to you. No one moved, entranced in the strained breaths heaving your chest up and down.

You made your way forward, passing Phillip and coming to the tree, whose veins still held the eerie glow. Ignoring the sharp needles and branches, you grabbed the trunk. With a mighty shout and a horrible cracking that likened far too much to bones for anyone's comfort, the tree came crumbling down, a victim to the uncontrolled strength of the aggravated undead.

The four watched on in great surprise and mild horror as you turned back around, looking as though you'd done no more than picked up your cat.

"Ahhk..m," you mumbled past blood-soaked lips, shuffling forward. Halfway to him you dropped the leg of what was now clearly a sheep, and soon you bumped into him, leaning part of your frail weight on him.

He didn't react, too flabbergasted to do so. A number of things had him petrified, and all together it was too much––you going missing and then returning, covered in blood no less, and then the part he didn't know what to think of.

You said his name. Out of all the words you could have learned, you decided his name was most important; second to hunger, of course.

"Ummm..."

You hummed, satisfied, and wrapped your arms around Ahk, squeezing him. As much as he wanted to return the affection, you were still covered in blood that was now painting his stomach. Another horrid part was the smell––the raw meat you'd torn into and the half-dry blood beneath your fingernails, paired with the corpse of the sheep, whose white coat was now soaked in both blood and clotted sludge.

"Well... at least Crayon's back," Amy said, gesturing vaguely when Phillip raised his brow. Both were at a loss.

"Sun will rise soon, we need to get the tree back. Ahk," Phillip said, motioning the Pharaoh over, who quickly obeyed.

Phillip stood near the trunk end, split open to expose the raw wood, and Ahk stood at the tip on the other side. Once both were situated, they heaved upwards to balance the weight on each man.

Rain began to pour as the five of you made your way back to the train station, you remaining adamantly at Ahk's side despite his pace being a little too fast. After your massive splurge of strength, your muscles ached, and your mind was beginning to slow. Amy suggested that perhaps you got stronger––both physically and mentally––when you had a decent diet of raw meat.

"Do you think we could get food to them more often, then? Obviously it makes them feel better, so long as you don't exert too much of it at once," Ahk said, eyes narrowing playfully as they fell upon you. You made no sign that you understood but giggled from his expression.

"I don't know, raw meat can –"

"Crayon can just eat my leftovers," Phillip said, grunting as he adjusted the tree beneath his arm.

"Leftovers?" questioned Ahk.

"I get most of my blood from raw meat that you can get from a butcher. The meat'll be a tad pale, but it should work. Might even be less messy," he said.

"/Anything/ would be less messy than that," Ben said as he gestured to you.

"Don't bother about him," Ahk said, swiftly kissing your forehead. "He's just jealous you're stronger than him."

While Ben and Amy stood right outside the train station, guarding the tree, Phillip took you and Ahk down to the town down in the valley. The walk down was long and rainy eough that by the end of it, there was no need to go wash off in the river. Most of the mud and all of the blood had washed away. The only problem left was Ahk's clothes––to remedy that, Phillip gave him his long, sunproof coat, just for the morning.

Warmth finally enveloped him as the three of you entered the tiny hotel, glowing with yellow light but occupied by only a ticking clock and a woman behind the counter. Much of the rainy streets outside were blocked by the overgrowing flowers lining the windowsills. Phillip, using his human skills and human money, booked one of the five rooms available in the whole of the small hotel.

"Don't get much business here, do you?" Phillip asked as he rooted around in his wallet.

"Do, actually," the woman said with a sigh. "Ever since the castle got refurnished, that's the only place people want to stay. Plenty of customers, no business. Been here 50 years and that hasn't changed."

"... my apologies, ma'am."

The cheaper room happened to be the one with no windows which, for Ahk and Phillip, was a win-win. While Phillip could make do in the sunlight, wearing long coats, gloves, and bearing umbrellas, Ahk would not have that freedom. The two of you would have to stay in the little town with your tickets back until the next evening. Phillip left you there to rejoin Amy and Ben, hopefully to find Phil's grandfather and recarve that special violin.

"Nice enough room," Ahk commented once the two of you were left alone.

It wasn't anything grand––of course it wasn't, but it had that certain charm that made it feel quite cozy. An electric heater sat behind the door, and beside it stood a table, two chairs tucked into it and a small clock atop it.

He sat on the bed and you followed, fingering the scratchy blanket placed above soft, worn sheets.

"Don't wander off like that again," he said softly in his native tongue, concern in his tone as he raised your head to look him in the eye. "I get horribly worried about you."

Slowly you raised your hand, coming to rest your palm against his cheek. Your dull eyes, rimmed with red, told him of a sadness you couldn't quite articulate. In its' place you gave what would best substitute the words––a kiss on the forehead so carefully gentle he barely felt it. The way you moved, slow and cautious, made him feel as though he were made of porcelain.

"I feel as though we are the only sane people in the world," he admitted with a smile, blushing from your affection. "That's silly of me, isn't it? For the undead Pharaoh to think he and his undead friend are the sane ones. My old self would find this hilarious."

"Ahhk," you mumbled out, moving attentively till your arms wrapped around his shoulders and neck, your cheek squished against his head. You kept moving, moved to your knees, and soon you were pulling him down to lay on the bed. He laughed and held you back, keeping your fragile form comfortably on top of his chest.

"You are, undoubtedly, one of the kindest creatures I've met," he said, whispered against your temple. Energy was beginning to leave him––/life/ was beginning to leave him, as the sun rose hidden behind the hotel walls.

Since you couldn't manage any more strength for words, you kissed the top of his head once more. As numbness filled his limbs, he tried not to think of the coming hours, how the two of you would be no more than corpses in a bed.

You were the first to stop breathing.

In the next evening the two of you snuck back onto the train, enjoying 10 hours to yourself before you were racing back to Cambridge. The sun would rise soon enough, and neither of you had money for a cab home, thus leaving only one option: sprinting.

The two of you collapsed with laughter as you slammed the door of the library shut behind you, the light of the sun already peering over the horizon.

"Gott sei Dank, you're safe," Phillip said, greeting the both of you with a smile and outstretched arms.

"Phillip, my friend," Ahk said, laughing, "thank you for your jacket. I don't think they would've let me without it."

"Of course!"

"And of the filing?"

"The what?"

Soft violin came from around the hallways of bookcases, filling the room with music just as the fireplace filled the room with warm light. Ahk took your hand, and the three of you made your way to the hearth, Ahk taking his seat on the floor with you, cradled in a swath of blankets. Above the two of you Ben played, dressed in a fitted black and white suit that accentuated the strength of his chest and his lean waist.

"You two have a fun evening?" Amy asked, careful to keep her voice below the volume of the violin.

"Wonderful," he answered for both of you. You nuzzled further into him, and with your head tucked below his chin, the two of you finally relaxed back in your home.

#ahkmenrah x reader #Ahkmenrah #Night at the Museum #rami malek #ahkmenrah x male reader #ahkmenrah x female reader #rami malek character

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let-the-dream-begin · 4 years

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A Place to Belong Chapter 38: The Wandering Soul

Chapter 37

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Jenny crossed the threshold with a basket of wash, Maggie and Kitty trailing behind. Kitty was dragging her feet and groaning.

“Why doesn’t Brianna have tae help wi’ the wash?” she whined.

“Because Brianna isna my bairn, and she’ll do what yer Auntie says,” Jenny said simply. “And she had chores to do while ye were gallivanting all over the grounds on yer horse wi’ yer Da. Today is her turn tae be wi’ her horse.”

Kitty kicked a pebble with her big toe, grunting in annoyance.

“I like helping wi’ the wash, Mam,” Maggie piped up. “Especially on a fine day like this.”

“Och, shut yer gab!” Kitty rolled her eyes.

“Oi! None o’ that talk!” Jenny smacked Kitty upside the head with her free hand.

Kitty rubbed the back of her head and stuck her tongue out at Maggie, who was more than happy to return the gesture, however daintily.

“Come on, lass. Get the stool.”

Kitty obliged, not without kicking another pebble.

Jenny constantly had to remind Kitty to stay put, stopping her from harassing the goats and chickens or from wandering down the road and into the woods. She got away somehow -- again, leaving Jenny to call after her.

“Mam!” her little voice answered. “There’s a man comin’ up the road!”

Jenny’s throat went dry, and she dropped the sark she was scrubbing and rushed toward the grand archway. “A Redcoat, Kitty?”

“Nae! It’s a great big man, and he looks dirty!”

“Come here to me this instant,” Jenny called, and Kitty’s sandy head soon reappeared, bounding back to her mother. Jenny firmly seized her hand and dragged her back into the front yard. “See why it isna safe to be roaming around alone? See why ye must do as ye’re told?”

“What does he want, Mam?” Maggie asked.

“He’s giant, Maggie. Maybe he wants tae eat ye!” Kitty splashed Maggie with the water in the tub, eliciting a little squeal from her. “He’s got hair like fire, and he’s tall as a tree!”

Jenny felt her blood run cold.

“Brianna’s got hair like fire,” Maggie said haughtily. “And she’s never wanted tae eat anybody, ye numpty.”

Kitty giggled madly as if she were planning on announcing to her cousin that she must have been a goblin all along.

“Enough,” Jenny said shortly. “Back tae work. If he comes to us, I’ll deal wi’ him.”

Jenny was doing quite a poor job of hiding how her fingers trembled.

There are other redheaded men in Scotland, Janet. Redheaded men that are alive.

Yer brother is dead.

She briefly wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, then scoffed at her own stupidity, having gotten soapy water on her face.

She heard the sound of footsteps crunching up the road, getting closer and closer. She did her best to ignore them, to not appear as if she were ready to welcome a strange visitor without the menfolk nearby.

“Jenny.”

Her heart leapt into her throat, and she swore she stopped breathing. The hairs on the back of her neck stood straight up, and her hands froze in the water.

“He kens ye, Mam?” Maggie said in a small, frightened voice.

Jenny looked up from the washtub, and she screamed.

“Ma? Ma, what’s wrong?”

“Ma! Who is he?”

The girls were a cacophony of noise, tugging on her skirt.

“Thig an Diabhal a mhallachadh sinn!” Jenny cried, crossing herself several times. “Inside, girls, inside! Now!”

“But Ma!”

“Now, Katherine!” Maggie said, tugging on her sister’s hand, and they clambered up the steps, Kitty asking questions all the while.

“Begone!” Jenny shrieked. “We dinna welcome evil spirits in this home! Begone at once!”

“Janet -- ”

“Don’t ye dare say my name! I willna be Satan’s hoor!”

“Can’t ye see I’m flesh and blood?”

“Dinna come any closer!” Jenny lifted the washboard from the tub and held it over her shoulder, water dripping and all, poised to strike. She was aware of the absurdity of waiting to strike at a spirit, but every instinct in her could not listen to reason. “I rebuke Satan! We dinna want ye here!”

“It’s alright, a piuthar…” His voice was too soft, too sweet, too soothing. Too real.

Too Jamie.

“No!” Jenny shrieked, angry, hot tears spilling down her cheeks. “Enough! I’ll no’ bend to ye! I won’t!”

“I didna die, Jenny. I ken what ye’ve been told. All lies to keep ye safe. I’m home now. D’ye see?”

Jenny let out a fierce, high-pitched growl, hurling the washboard at him, which he sidestepped with ease as he moved closer to her.

“Our father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name…”

“It’s really me, Jenny. I swear it. I’ve come home.”

“Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on Earth -- Stop! Get away!” She was fully sobbing now, fully terrified, so deep in denial that even if it were true, she wasn’t sure she would ever accept it.

“Let me touch ye, sister. Let yerself feel that I’m no more than a mortal man.” He reached out with trembling hands.

“...as it is in Heaven. Give us this day, our daily bread, and forgive us our tresspasses…”

“Jenny…”

“As we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation…”

Dinna be tempted. It canna be true. It canna be true…

He was only arms’ length from her now.

“Jenny.”

“And deliver us from evil…”

His hand came to rest on her cheek, and she shrieked again.

“Janet!” he cried, very abruptly seizing her shoulders and shaking her violently, nearly lifting her off the ground, Jenny screaming all the while.

She stood on her toes, held firmly in place by it, whatever it was, frozen in terror. She couldn’t stop herself, could not resist the temptation to look in his eyes, her soul be damned.

“Christ…” she breathed.

No spirit could hold such depth in its eyes as her brother. No spirit could ever replicate their mother’s soul so completely.

It’s him.

“It canna be...It canna…”

“ ’Tis, Jenny. It’s me.”

She shook her head, her mouth flapping uselessly as her eyes watered again rapidly.

“It’s...very fine to see ye again, Janet.”

“You bloody bastard!” Jenny howled, her rage completely overshadowed by the guttural sobs of relief tearing through her. “Where in God’s name have ye been…? What the Devil d’ye mean just...just showin’ up here like this…?”

Jamie did not answer her. Instead, he crushed her to him and buried his face in the crown of her head. Despite herself, Jenny clung to the fabric of his shirt and buried her face in his chest.

“Damn you, Jamie...God bloody damn you…”

Jamie hushed her and held her tighter, whispering Gaelic into her hair.

She suddenly tensed in his arms. “My God...My God…”

Jamie released her immediately, pushing her away and gripping her shoulders, looking her desperately in the eye. “Where is she?”

Apparently he’d read her mind.

“She’s here, brother, she’s here...my God…” Her voice caught in her throat.

“I need to see her, Jenny.” His voice was tight and rough, his grip on her shoulders nearly bruising her.

Jenny nodded wordlessly and dashed off, nearly certain she was not running in a straight line.

“Claire!”

——

And then there she was.

She was even more beautiful than the image he’d conjured of her, even more beautiful than the angel that graced his dreams every night.

He watched as every possible thought and emotion danced over that glass face, and he thought his heart would burst.

“Will ye no’ say anything?” Jenny shoved her, but she remained rigid as wood, unblinking.

“It’s me, Claire.” It was difficult enough to breathe at the sight of her, let alone to speak.

She finally moved, however minutely; perhaps only he even noticed. Her chest spasmed, and her chin began trembling.

“I’ve come home to ye.”

She made a terrifying sound, and collapsed like a sack of grain, and whatever little was in his stomach leapt into his throat.

“Christ!” Jenny cried, dropping to her knees beside her. Before she could even blink, Jamie was upon her, scooping Claire into his arms, leaving Jenny to scramble to her feet, hiking her skirts and taking long strides to keep up with him. He stomped through the halls, right into the parlor. Jamie laid her limp form gently on the sofa, kneeling beside her on the floor.

“I dinna ken what ye expected!” Jenny said, exasperated. “Ye may very well have shocked her to her death!”

“Don’t. Say that.” Jamie burned his eyes intensely into Jenny. She blanched, feeling her face and neck getting hot.

“I…I’m sorry, brother…I only meant…”

“I ken what ye meant,” he said quickly, though less aggressive.

“I’ll…I’ll get her some water.”

Jamie nodded, returning his gaze to Claire. He looked down at his hands, suddenly very aware that they were touching her. Her. The real Claire. He removed his hands, suddenly overwhelmed by the sensation. They hovered over her face, ghosting over her features, afraid to touch her.

When he no longer felt like he would lose consciousness, he willed his violently trembling hands to move closer to her face. He swore he was lit afire as the very tips of his fingers came in contact with her skin again. He raked his fingertips down her cheeks, reverently, as if she were the Holy Mother of God herself. Still shaking fiercely, he willed his hands to cup her cheeks, ever-so-gently caressing her sweet face. He let his thumbs swipe over her eyelids, desperate to see them open, looking back at him with the same hunger that was in his eyes as he looked at her.

There was dirt on her forehead from her fall, and he gently wiped it with his thumb, smoothing her hair with his other hand. She suddenly whimpered, and his heart leapt into his throat. He dared not speak, lest he frighten her out of her wits again before she even opened her eyes. Her eyes fluttered open, dazed at first, but they quickly came into focus, and then widened. He heard her breath catch in her throat.

“You’re real…” she whispered.

“So are you,” he answered.

“You…they said…you’re dead…”

“I’ll explain it all…right now I…” Claire struggled to push herself into a sitting position, and Jamie helped her. “I’m sorry,” he said quickly, removing his hands from her. “I dinna mean to presume…”

Tears gathered in her eyes. “Presume…?”

“Well I…I want to touch ye of course…but only if ye want me to.”

Her chin trembled again. “I do.”

He took her hands in his; they were shaking as fiercely as his. “I want…” he stammered, pausing to lick his lips in hesitation. “I would very much like to kiss you.” Claire thought her heart would explode. “But only if ye want me to.”

She exhaled sharply, and he could taste her breath. “I do.”

Both of their lips now trembled like their hands. They hovered over each other, feeling the vibration of each other’s lips, but still not touching.

“I havnae done this in a very long time,” Jamie breathed. Claire finally closed the distance, and her stomach felt like liquid fire. They could each feel the other’s tears slipping onto their cheeks. The kiss deepened, only slightly so, before they pulled apart to look in each other’s eyes.

“I’ve dreamed of you for so long…” Claire’s voice hitched, and she swallowed thickly. Touching him, holding him, kissing him…it was enough for her to lose herself completely in the bliss of it all. But the realization of exactly what this meant was starting to come to her, and she blinked rapidly, her chin trembling.

“I mourned you…for eight years…” She shook her head, her eyes widening in a mix of horror and astonishment. “You were dead…we had a bloody funeral for you! We grieved you for eight fucking years…I…I buried my heart in that empty coffin…I raised…oh God…”

“Claire…” he groaned desperately. She was breaking his heart.

“There is a headstone with your name on it! I sat in front of it and talked to it like you were there…but you weren’t even there because they wouldn't give us your body…your body…and all this time you…Oh God!”

Her hands balled into tight fists, grasping the collar of his shirt, shaking him furiously.

“Where have you been?” she spat. “I have been your widow for eight fucking years…” She opened her mouth to say more, to scream, admonish him, but the only sound that came out was a wretched, miserable sob. Her fists loosened and trembling fingers spread over his chest, pressing her palms into him.

“Claire…oh, Claire…” His hands hovered over her uselessly, entirely unsure of what he should be doing.

“Oh, hold me…” Claire sobbed. “Hold me, Jamie. Please.”

He obeyed immediately, enveloping her in his strong arms. Rather than Jamie getting onto the sofa with her, she ended up slipping to the floor beside him, melting into his embrace. She buried her face in his chest, weeping freely into his shirt. He held her as tightly as he possibly could without crushing her, caressing her beautiful, brown curls with one hand, pressing her head into him, desperate to feel closer to her than he already was. If he could fold her into himself permanently he was sure he’d do it.

“Jamie…Jamie…Jamie…” She whispered his name, over and over, as if to convince herself he was really there.

“I’m here, Claire…Oh, Claire…mo nighean donn…Claire…”

Neither of them kept track of how long they’d held onto each other, but they were interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. Claire only partially moved, just her head so she could see. Jamie did not relinquish his hold on her.

“Glad to see ye’re awake, Claire,” Jenny said. “I’ve brought ye some water.”

“Thank you, Jenny,” Claire said, her voice hoarse. Jamie suddenly felt her tense. She gently pushed herself out of his embrace so she could sit up to address her. “Jenny, keep the children outside. Tell Fergus to keep them busy. We just…need a moment, first.”

Jenny immediately understood her meaning, and she nodded vigorously. “Aye, I’ll do that.” And she was gone.

“Fergus? The lad is still here?” Jamie said.

“Yes. He…he calls me Maman now. He has for…a long time.” Claire eased herself onto the sofa, and Jamie followed, their hands not leaving each other all the while. “I did as I promised, Jamie. I raised him as my own...our own. Our boy.” Two lone tears trickled down her cheeks, smiling bittersweetly.

Jamie exhaled with a great shudder, another single tear escaping his eye as well. “I had no doubt ye’d be a fine mother, mo ghraidh.” He pushed her hair back, threading it through his fingers.

Her stomach flipped at his words, and she nodded. “Yes...which...I...” Her heart was bruising her ribcage. “Jamie…there’s something I need to tell you.”

Jamie’s hands immediately left her. “Ye remarried.”

“No.” Claire said firmly, frantically taking his hands back into hers. “No. Never.”

He sighed in relief. “Even when ye let me kiss you, I couldna be sure.” He kissed her again, possessively this time. “That was my greatest fear, ye ken.”

“I…I couldn’t. Not ever, Jamie. You are the love of my life, only you.”

“And you are mine.” He hungrily kissed her again.

She put a gentle hand on his chest, separating their lips. “But Jamie,” she continued, their faces so close she couldn’t even discern his features. “There is something I didn’t tell you. At Culloden.”

“What are ye talking about?”

“Something I knew would…would make you change your mind about sending me to Lallybroch.” She took a deep breath, bracing herself. She backed up only slightly so they could look into each other’s eyes when she said it. “I was — ”

“Mummy!”

Fuck.

Her scampering footsteps got louder and louder, and Claire scrambled to detach herself from Jamie, scooting several inches away.

“Claire, why’ve ye — ?”

“Mummy!” Brianna appeared in the doorway to the parlor and immediately approached Claire at the sofa. “Oh, Mummy, I ken you didn’t want me going very fast, and I promise it wasna that fast, but Alastair got to a trot, and I promise Fergus didn’t let go the whole time, and the wind felt so lovely in my hair, and Alastair was so pleased, he was so very bored before when we were only walking, and — ”

“I am sorry, Maman.” Fergus appeared in the entryway, breathless. “I tried to keep her in the corral, but she was too excited, and she got away from me…” His voice trailed off as his eyes fell on Jamie, his jaw falling slack.

“Fergus, tell Mummy it wasn’t really that fast, tell her! Tell her how I was a good girl and that’s why you let me go fast! Tell her, mon frère!”

Jamie very abruptly stood from the sofa, stumbling over it as he backed away from Claire and the child.

“Fergus!” Brianna started to panic. “Tell her!” She fretfully looked back at Claire. “Oh, Mummy, I’ll never do it again. I’m sorry. Please don’t be cross wi’ me.” But Claire wasn’t looking at Brianna; she couldn’t take her eyes off of Jamie, who couldn’t take his eyes off of Brianna. Brianna followed her mother’s gaze. “Mummy! Is that man a giant? Did he come from a faery hill?”

Too little too late, Claire returned her attention to Brianna. “Darling, why don’t you and Fergus — ”

“He has hair like mine! Copper, and gold, and auburn, and red, and cinnamon,” she sang the words, a silly song that Claire had invented. It had first come about when she was a baby, still afraid of the water and the soap. It was a list of the “ingredients” that went into her hair. It was just nonsense words strung together in a sing-song pattern, meant to keep her calm while she got clean. Claire had planned on forgetting it after a while, but it kept coming back for every bath thereafter, and now they sang it together, in the bath and even when Claire brushed her hair.

Jamie turned suddenly, knocking over the little table that Jenny had placed the water pitcher on, shattering it as he quickly strode out of the room.

“Jamie!” Claire stood up, terror seizing her heart. She threw a distressed look to Fergus, then hurried after Jamie. “Jamie! Stop!”

“Mummy! Are ye angry wi’ me?”

“Viens, Brianna. Now.”

“Jamie! Wait!” Claire followed him through the house and out the back entrance.

He stopped several feet away from the back door, his back to her, running his hand through his hair.

“Jamie…”

“Is that — ” He whirled around, pointing into the house. “That…Is she…”

“Yours, Jamie. Yes,” Claire said. “She’s your daughter.”

Jamie opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. The hand that was pointing at the house ran through his hair again. He began pacing, putting the pieces together. “You were…you were with child, at Culloden. Ye were carrying my child…”

“I wanted to tell you, but I was afraid!” Claire cried. “I was afraid you’d send me back through the stones to keep her safe, and I couldn’t bear it! I couldn’t leave you!”

“The…the stones?” Jamie stammered. “The stones?”

“She’s safe here, Jamie! She always has been! We are both so much happier here than we ever could have been if you’d sent me back.”

“You…you lied to me?”

“No! I just…didn’t tell you…”

“That’s lying, Claire!” Jamie took several menacing steps toward her, pointing that finger again. “I canna believe…after what happened to Faith…ye gave up the chance to have yer modern medicines, ye risked yer life, and her life…my child’s life…”

“I know it was selfish! But I only regretted it one time, and only very briefly!” Claire’s voice threatened to break, so she paused, taking a breath and swallowing against the lump in her throat. “I never, ever thought of being happier in my own time with her,” she continued evenly, as calmly as she could muster. “I couldn’t leave Jenny, or Fergus. He needed me; you said he needed me to stay,” she reminded him pointedly. “My life at Lallybroch was just as much your idea as mine. She belongs here, and so do I. I’ve only ever once had cause to regret it.”

He took a deep breath, running his hand through his hair yet again. “Why…what made ye regret it? Even the one time?”

“Her birth was difficult…almost deadly. But your sister saved both of our lives. And I am grateful to her every day.”

“As am I, but she wouldnae had to do it if ye’d kept yer promise to me!”

Every word he said was another blow to her chest, widening the crack in her heart.

“Aren’t you happy I’m here? That she is here? You would never see me again, you’d never even meet her if I’d gone back!” Her voice was rising dangerously, her throat searing with pain. “I never could have known you weren’t dead! Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“Of course it does! Ye dinna think I’ve been burning for ye every day these past eight years? Ye dinna think I thanked the Lord and every Saint above to see ye still standing on this Earth? And ye dinna think…” His voice caught in his throat. “My heart wasnae fit to burst when I saw that…that bonny wee lass, calling ye her mam…” Tears spilled down both his cheeks, and Claire felt splinters in her heart. “It’s…it’s almost too much to bear.”

Fresh tears sprang out of Claire’s eyes as well. She fought the urge to run to him, to close the space between them and take him in her arms and never let go. Instead, she hugged herself around the middle, wetting her lips before she spoke, calm and level.

“I…I’ve told her all about you. How brave and strong you were…or, are. How you fought for your clan and country. How you…how you protected her from Heaven, how you…” She breathed shakily. “How you had to leave us to be Faith’s father in Heaven.” Her voice broke, and Jamie looked like he could collapse. “That’s what I told her. That’s how I got her to understand how you couldn’t be with us and still love us as much as I said you did. You’re…you’re her hero, Jamie.”

Jamie sank to his knees, and Claire could not stop herself from rushing forward and gathering his shuddering frame in her arms.

“I’m sorry, Claire,” he wept. “Please, forgive me. I dinna mean…it’s just…my heart…I canna bear it…”

“I know, Jamie, I know…” She was all the way up on her knees, and he was back on his haunches, leaning into her, so she was able to press a kiss to the top of his head. “Forgive me for betraying you all those years ago. It was never my intention. I just…I wanted you to be able to meet her if you survived.”

He gently pulled himself out of her embrace, rising to full height on his knees. “Forgiven.” He tilted her chin up to kiss her, sweetly, tenderly.

“All the times I imagined you coming back...none of them ended up like this.” Claire offered a weak smile, feeling foolish even as she said it.

“Aye...I’m sure my shock could rival yers at the moment.” His brows furrowed, and his gaze became far off as he slowly sank back on his haunches. Silently, they settled into the grass together, sitting side by side, holding each other.

“What are you thinking?” Claire said softly, looking up at his face, following the patterns of the protruding veins with concerned eyes.

He remained silent for another brief moment before answering. “I’m thinking that I canna imagine what I’ve done to deserve ye.”

“Whatever do you mean?” Claire sat up straighter, taking his face in her hands, holding on perhaps just a bit too tightly.

“All this time I’ve been...a shell of a man. My soul wandered aimlessly, reaching blindly fer any semblance of...of you. To come home to you, Sassenach, my wife, to see yer face and hear yer voice...Christ, I was grateful enough fer that.” His jaw hardened; he was struggling not to cry. “The pain I know I’ve caused ye these eight years...fer ye to take me in yer arms again is more than I deserve…”

“Jamie…”

“But to know that through it all...ye brought my child into this world, ye raised her, even in yer pain. Ye told her...about me.” He swallowed thickly, and another tear trickled down his cheek. “I dinna ken what I’ve done to be so blessed.”

Claire’s face screwed up with the effort of holding herself together. “Raising your child is the greatest gift I’ve ever been given. She has saved me over and over. And I only have her because of you.” She pressed her forehead to his, and he sighed shakily again. “I told myself...before...that you were saving me from beyond the grave through your daughter. And I was so...so grateful for that.”

He cupped the back of her head and kissed her, their tears mingling together on each other’s cheeks.

“No grave, Sassenach. I’m home now. To stay.”

Claire whimpered with a mixture of relief, disbelief, and fear -- fear that it was a vivid dream that would disappear any second.

“I mean to be yer husband again. And I mean to...to be a father to our child. If ye’ll have me...if she...will have me.”

“Of course. Of course we will have you.” Claire kissed him fervently, holding his face firmly in place for several seconds, only pulling away when she was sure she would faint again for lack of air.

“This is more than I’ve ever dreamed of,” she whispered.

“Aye. I could say the same.”

They smiled tearily at each other for a brief moment, before Jamie pulled her into his lap, cradling her like she was fragile as glass. They sat for a while in reverent silence, relishing in the strange familiarity of each other’s embrace.

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imagineaworlds · 3 years

Text

I Love You (Part Twenty-Four) -- Aaron Hotchner

Written By: @desperately-bisexual

Request: None.

Warnings: Cursing. Mentions of smut. Mentions of Dom/sub relationship. Talk of murder, shooting. terrorism, mention of bombing-- literally everything Criminal Minds.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Greenaway!Reader

Word Count: 15467

Timeline: Season 3 Episode 20. Two months after part twenty-three.

It was a quiet morning at the office. At ten o’clock, we all gathered in the conference room to discuss cases, but before we could even sit down, JJ told us that there was nothing for our unit. It wasn’t entirely uncommon for this to happen, and it was always a relief because it meant that we would all get to go home early, which meant getting to see Jack sooner. With no paperwork to do, either we were all free to just wait around until something came about for us to do. That was the odd part. If we didn’t have a case, we at least had paperwork… but, nope. Honestly, if we wanted to, Hotch could just send us home for the day, but I think that all of us were still hoping that something interesting would come up. Also, what was the point in leaving if we could just be called back at any point? Might as well just stick around until three when I was supposed to pick Jack up from school.

While all of us were hanging out in the bullpen, JJ, Garcia, and Rossi with us, too, Hotch was up in his office. His door was closed, the blinds were tilted slightly, yet I could still catch a glimpse of him talking with someone on the phone. He seemed worried. He wasn’t pacing the width of his office quite yet, but he was tapping his fountain pen against his desk as fast as he could in order to keep his anxious body up with his racing mind. No one else seemed to notice, though—probably because they didn’t want to know if it had to do with a case yet. We were all content with just sitting around, chatting and laughing. If a case came up, so be it. If a case didn’t come up, that would be a miracle we would happily take.

“Do you think it’s about those shootings in New York?” I finally asked, turning my attention away from Hotch’s office long enough to gauge the team’s reactions to my question.

It had been on my mind for the past few days since we first heard about it on the news. The FBI hadn’t been called in to investigate the crimes yet, but we were all keeping tabs on it to see if it would get worse. There had been five shootings in the past two weeks, each of them in public spaces, but no witnesses. No one could describe the Unsub, let alone describe what happened It was like a ghost was shooting random civilians in the streets. Yet the NYPD was convinced that the incidences were all unrelated. Considering New York’s rising crime rates, it was a fair assumption, I supposed, but with five murders with the same M.O., our team was starting to raise brows and ask if the NYPD was ever going to call someone in for an outside perspective.

“Why would you think that?” Rossi asked. “Has Hotch said something about it at home?”

I shook my head. “We haven’t talked about it at all.”

“So, then, maybe it’s nothing.”

I looked back up at Hotch’s office, keenly aware that it wasn’t nothing. Something was wrong, it was just a matter of what. Perhaps it had to do with Haley, or Jack, or the Director, or another case he was just learning about. But if it were a case, wouldn’t it have gone through JJ first? It must have been personal, then, which meant that I would hear about it from him sooner than later. There was nothing to be worried about right now.

And then he stood from his desk and hung up the phone. Everyone seemed to be watching him with me now, trying to figure out if either Rossi or I were correct. Hotch grabbed his cell, a few files from his desk, and hurried to his door. The second it was open, he caught us all watching him, but he didn’t waver.

“Conference room,” he ordered, still making his way there.

We all leapt to our feet and scurried together towards the boardroom. “My money’s on New York,” I whispered to Rossi.

“I’ll take that bet.”

Hotch was standing at the monitor, the remote in his hand as he pulled up the news. When it was on, I heard Rossi sigh disappointedly. I grinned and elbowed his side playfully. Maybe he shouldn’t have actually taken that deal. The news was already talking about yet another shooting in New York, this time at a subway station in the middle of the night. No witnesses. No evidence. No leads. It was amazing that we were being called in this late.

“Don’t sit,” Hotch said. “We won’t be here long. We’ve been called in to help the NYPD with the random shootings.” Finally. “We’ll debrief more on the plane, but for now, what you need to know is that the police have eliminated any connections to organized crime, terrorism, or vendettas. There are no ties between any of the victims, and all of their records are clean. We’re looking at a randomized killer. He does the same thing every time. He keeps his head down, hood on, hands covered to hide his skin color. He shoots the victims quickly as he’s walking and doesn’t look back.” Hotch turned off the TV. “Wheels up in twenty. Garcia—” She looked up at the mention of her name, shocked that she was being addressed during a meeting she technically wasn’t even supposed to be at. “You’re coming with us.”

“Sir—”

“See you all on the jet.” Hotch collected his things again and pushed past the team to make his way back to his office so that he could grab his go-bag.

The rest of us were left in the boardroom, glancing between each other, waiting for someone to make the first move. It was odd that we weren’t even taking the time to sit down and discuss more of the case first. I mean, what happened to the case going through JJ, talking about it as a team in the boardroom, then discussing more on the jet, and so on? Why go to Hotch first and why was he in such a rush?

I made the first move, rushing back down to my desk in the bullpen to call Jessica to see if she could pick up Jack, and then text Haley to let her know that we wouldn’t be back for a bit. Jessica said she was fine with picking up Jack, and when I texted Haley, she thanked me for letting her know. She also told me to keep an eye on Aaron and to call Jack when we were at the hotel. When that was sorted, I grabbed my go-bag from under my desk and walked with the rest of the team out of the building.

When we got on the jet, Hotch immediately called for us to huddle up and start discussing the case. Since it had come through him, Hotch knew the most about the case. He knew what the cops had done for the investigation, he knew the victimology, the M.O., the possible leads, everything. We were just there to play catch up and then try to give what insight we could before landing in New York.

“Each victim was killed in a different neighborhood. There was no relation with their homes, their jobs, their hobbies, or so on. No similar physical or personality traits, according to the victims’ friends and family.”

“What leads do they have that they haven’t told the press about?” I asked.

“None,” Hotch shook his head. “Agent Kate Joyner has been leading the FBI-NYPD joint task force—”

“The FBI’s been involved with this already?” Morgan interrupted.

“Pretty much since the beginning. Kate called for our help after the sixth murder last night, though.”

“Wait. Kate Joyner?” Rossi clarified. “Isn’t she the agent from Interpole we gained a few years back?”

“I heard she can be a bit of a pain in the ass,” Morgan chuckled.

“I didn’t think so. We worked together back in the day when she was still working for Scotland Yard,” Hotch admitted.

“You… worked together?” Emily raised a brow. None of us were aware that Hotch had ever liaised with Scotland Yard before. One would think that I would have known about that. “When?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Hotch deflected. “Let’s just focus on the case, please. She’s leading the case, we’re just there to profile. So, just… follow her lead on this one.”

‘Follow her lead’? We never followed anyone’s lead. We worked with other units, SWAT, and the local police departments that needed our help; but the only person we directly answered to was Hotch. Why was he changing that for this girl, Kate? What was more concerning to me was that Hotch knew who this woman was—they were clearly friends at one point or another, and I had never even heard of her. It was like Hotch covered up this entire part of his life that I didn’t know about. Like, when the hell did he go to England? When did he meet Kate? How long did they work together?

I took a breath to relax. I didn’t need to get caught up in my thoughts. The reality was that Hotch and Haley had been together since high school. He loved Haley with everything he had while they were still together. He would have never cheated on her, just as he would never cheat on me— though I couldn’t say she didn’t show him the same courtesy, but that was a theory for another time. Hotch was probably just old friends with this Kate lady, just as he was old friends with Rossi. There was nothing to be suspicious of, and there was definitely nothing to be jealous of. I just needed to remind myself that this was about a case, nothing else.

When we arrived at the New York field office, we headed up to Kate’s unit’s floor. She was supposedly waiting for us up there with the two lead detectives from the NYPD who were assigned to this case, too. On the way up, Hotch seemed nervous and fidgety, which certainly wasn’t like him. I mean, I knew from Rossi that Hotch used to be like that, so maybe it was just habits of seeing an old friend again; but it was still unsettling to see that he was so wrapped up in the thought of seeing Kate that he wasn’t even making eye contact with any of us or trying to tell me and Morgan that we needed to be on our best behavior.

Once the elevator doors were open, Hotch stepped out, leading us all into the office in search of Kate and the detectives. We looked around, taking in how big the office was. This unit that the FBI had given Kate was ridiculous. I mean, the BAU was considerably big, but this was almost twice that, and everyone was running around, busy with work around the case.

My shoulders fell and I stopped in place when I saw a woman approaching us with a smile on her face. That was definitely Kate, there was no doubt about it… She was gorgeous. She walked so smoothly, but still held a poise that commanded everyone’s reluctant respect. And when she saw Hotch, her smile grew even more.

“Aaron,” she welcomed with open arms.

“Kate,” he smiled back, accepting her hug.

My eyes stayed glued to them and their embrace, despite the fact that the rest of the team was glancing between them and me. ‘Aaron’? ‘Kate’? ‘Aaron’… I was still trying to convince myself that it was nothing, and I shouldn’t have to be that petty person who got all jealous suddenly without an explanation. It was nothing, right? Just two old friends reuniting… Two friends that happened to hug a little longer than necessary and then stare into each other’s eyes as they parted— Oh, my fucking god.

JJ linked her arm with mine and pulled me close. “Is it just me or does she look exactly like Haley?”

Oh, boy, I was relieved that I wasn’t the only one who took notice. I thought I was going fucking crazy. Kate’s blonde hair, her small nose, her brown eyes, her tight lips, her short height, her tall posture… She was a mirror image of Haley… Just… British. It was so odd. I hadn’t anticipated that I’d be meeting Haley’s doppelganger. I mean, I never even expected to meet Haley in the first place, but now there were two of her. What the hell was I supposed to do with that?

I remembered how I tried to convince myself on the plane that there was no chance in hell that Hotch would have cheated on Haley, but when I saw Kate, I realized that it was entirely possible. If he really spent a long time in England, then he probably ended up missing Haley a lot… With someone around him who looked eerily similar to the wife he missed so much, if there was a night with one too many drinks or something, it was entirely possible that something happened between them.

I felt so stupid. I wasn’t a jealous person, and I certainly wasn’t one to speculate about Hotch’s past. We had both done things that we weren’t proud of. We had done things that we just hadn’t gotten around to discussing yet. But all the signs seemed to be there. But the worst part was that it pointed to the fact that Hotch seemed to have a type… A type that I didn’t amount to. I felt my self-confidence crash just by looking at Kate.

“Kate, this is my team. David Rossi, Derek Morgan, Spencer, Reid, Emily Prentiss, Jennifer Jareau, Penelope Garcia, and—” Hotch hesitated when his eyes met mine. “And… Y/N Greenaway.” He must have recognized that the wheels in my mind were turning, and I was working overtime to understand what was going on. He must have also recognized my shyness and the way I didn’t wave or smile at Kate politely.

“Thank you all for being here.” Kate smiled less now, like she was just trying to be courteous compared to her genuine happiness in seeing Hotch for the first time in years. “If you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to ask. For now, I believe that accommodations have been made for your technical analyst to review the city’s security footage. The rest of you, these are Detectives Brustin and Cooper,” Kate gestured to the two men standing to her left. They nodded and smiled shortly, seemingly less than impressed with our appearance. “I’ll leave you all to discuss the case with them. All I ask is that you run everything by me first. It’s been my experiences that having one butt on the line is enough.”

Detective Brustin rolled his eyes and mocked Kate's accent, “Yes, ma’am.”

Kate tried to ignore his rudeness after stepping closer to Hotch to whisper something. “Is there a chance we could talk privately before you go running off?”

“Yeah,” Hotch nodded with a whisper. They waited for a moment, their faces close together, their eyes searching each other’s.

As they walked off together, Emily and Garcia shuffled over to me and JJ.

“They, um,” Emily cleared her throat, “liaised together.”

“I don’t understand,” I admitted quietly, my go-bag falling to the ground. The girls’ grins disappeared in an instant when they realized that I wasn’t taking it all as a joke. “I thought I was the only one besides Haley…” My eyes followed Kate and Hotch as they walked into her office. She leaned against her desk, crossing her arms a little too tightly over her chest. Hotch didn’t sit or keep his distance. My breath hitched as he stood just in front of her, their knees practically touching. “They were high school sweethearts,” I continued to explain about Haley and Hotch. “I didn’t think that there was any point where they weren’t together before their divorce.” I looked over at Morgan, who had turned away from Rossi, Reid, and the detectives to pay attention to our conversation. “What did I miss?” I practically asked him directly, my eyes pouting.

“Hey,” Rossi called us all over. I broke away from my trance long enough to grab my go-bag from the floor and walk over with the team. “Morgan and I will go with Detective Brustin to the latest crime scene, find out what we can about this guy. The rest of you will stay here to help Reid look at the geographical information and start building the profile.”

“And Hotch?” Morgan asked.

Everyone looked back over at Kate’s office.

“Hotch… He seems a little busy. Just catch him up with your work here when you’re done.” Rossi avoided making eye contact with me as he turned back to the team. “Get to work.”

We all dispersed. Morgan, Rossi, and Brustin headed for the elevators; meanwhile, Emily, JJ, and I went with Reid to the boardroom we were given to work in. While they all got to work, I sat down at the table in the middle of the room and spun around in my chair to face Kate’s office. Her and Hotch were still talking privately, but his demeanor had changed entirely. He was a few steps away from her now, his arms crossed over his chest, his back towards her. We both stared at each other for a quick moment before he looked away.

Suddenly, Hotch was moving towards her door. They were finishing up. I pushed myself out of my seat and quietly hurried over to the door of Kate’s office. Hotch was wrapping up their conversation, though he was switching his gaze towards me every other step I made towards him. When I was within reach of him, he closed Kate’s office door behind him.

“We need to talk,” I said, grabbing his hand and pulling him to the side of the room. I let go of his hand and turned back to face him with crossed arms. “I’m not a jealous person, Hotch. I never have been, and I don’t plan on starting now. I think it’s stupid and I think that we’re both mature enough to not run into any problems when it comes to any past relationships. But I need to know something, and I need you to be honest with me.” He nodded. “Were you and Kate ever together in any way?”

Hotch wrinkled his brows together and shook his head before chuckling at me like the question was unwarranted and unexpected. What else did he expect? Kate looked exactly like his ex-wife, and they hugged— something Hotch hardly did with anyone other than me— and they talked privately, and he was smiling at her, and laughing with her, and… Shit. I told him I wasn’t jealous, and I swore to myself that I wasn’t, but… Fuck. I didn’t know what else to think. Something happened between them and I wanted to know what. Not because I wanted to find reasons to be more jealous or protective because I knew that he would never cheat on me, but because… Well… I wasn’t entirely sure. But, dammit, I wanted to know.

“Kate and I are just friends,” he insisted. “We never did anything.” I cocked a brow at him, and he rolled his eyes slightly. “We never kissed, we never held hands, we never… did anything. Nothing. We’re just friends. I promise.”

I nodded. I felt like such an idiot. This wasn’t who I was. Hotch and I were both grown, mature people who loved each other more than anything. Even if something did happen, it would have been a long time ago, and it wouldn’t have affected our relationship. I was just relieved to know the truth, even though I felt like a total jealous moron.

“I’m glad you asked me, though,” he complimented with a smile. I looked up at him as he continued. “I’d rather you ask than silently get jealous over nothing and turn it into a thing.”

I knew in my mind that if Hotch truly did love me— which, of course, I knew that he did— then there was absolutely nothing to worry about. Hearing him say it to my face reassured me that all I needed to know was the truth, straight from his mouth, and I could move on and do my job. Like he said, there was no reason to ponder in silence and let jealousy build for no reason. Him and Kate were friends. I had to trust that. Hotch promised once that he would never lie to me, so if he said that there was no history between them, then there wasn’t. I believed him.

“I love you,” I whispered.

“I love you, too.” He grabbed my left hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Thank you. Seriously.” And then his phone started ringing. We both sighed at the ruined moment as he dug it out of his pocket. “Hotchner,” he said into it while still staring at me. “Alright. We’ll be there soon.” He hung up just as quickly as he answered. “Morgan says that there’s been another murder a few blocks from where him, Rossi, and the detectives are.”

“Let’s go,” I said quietly, turning away from him.

He held my hand tighter and pulled me back to face him. “We’re okay, right?”

I nodded. “I trust you, Hotch. If you say nothing happened, then nothing happened. I’m not going to question that.”

He searched my eyes for a moment. “Thank you.”

“You’ve gotta think of a more creative way of saying ‘thank you’ at some point.” I smirked, turning away from him again so that we could head down to the car, but he didn’t follow me like I expected. He was smiling at me, but he was waiting for an opportunity to go tell Kate about the new crime scene. Right. I forgot. Kate. Just as soon as I grew jealous of her, I had entirely forgotten about her. “Go,” I told him. “I’ll meet you in the car.”

He silently hurried off to her office to let her know. I rolled my eyes to myself and made my way to the elevators. I wasn’t jealous. I trusted Hotch. I loved Hotch. He made a promise to me a couple of months ago that he would never lie to me ever again. He looked me in the eye and told me that we would never hold secrets back. I asked Hotch straight up if him and Kate were involved, and he told me that they never were. I had to believe him. I did believe him. They were friends, just like he said. And he was only going to tell her because she was still the lead on this case, and she had asked us to keep her updated on any new developments. It made sense. I shouldn’t have been pondering it too long.

When they got to the car together, Hotch took the front seat with me, while Kate took the back. At least that didn’t change. I drove us down to the crime scene with Hotch’s navigation help. It was somewhat out there for us, but just like Hotch said, it wasn’t far from the other crime scene that Morgan and Rossi were looking at. But the scene had already been taped off, which made traffic horrible, and it was nearly impossible to get into our own damn crime scene. From the backseat, Kate had to argue with two different police officers about letting us in before Rossi finally noticed us from the street corner and waved us through.

“It’s definitely our guy,” Brustin said. “Same M.O. Middle of the day, random, no pattern in victimology, hurried off before anyone could get a good look at him.”

“There wasn’t a single witness?” I asked while getting out of the car. We were on a busy street corner. Hell, the cops were having trouble holding back the crowds. How did no one see a guy shoot someone in the middle of the day on a busy road in fucking New York?

Brustin shook his head. “Nothing.”

“Y/N, go talk with Rossi to catch up on what he knows,” Hotch ordered me.

Brustin squinted, almost like he was offended by that command. To be fair, the way Hotch phrased it made it sound like he didn’t trust Brustin or Cooper and what conclusions they had come to. While we obviously still held our team’s intuition to a higher standard and were more likely to trust what our friends would tell us, Hotch’s order was still offensive to the detective, and I didn’t blame him for feeling that way. That being said, I didn’t argue with him either. I nodded and walked up to Rossi, who was standing over the body.

“Seven murders and he’s finally communicating with us,” Rossi told me, handing me an evidence bag.

I looked down at what was inside the clear bag while raising a curious brow. It was a Tarot card— specifically the card for Death. If the title on the bottom of the card wasn’t obvious enough, the artwork of Death riding a rose that was trampling over a king was a sure tell of what was going on. But why do this now? Why send us a message after so many deaths? It didn’t make sense. It didn’t fit the M.O. Realistically, the obvious answer was that the Unsub was trying to tell us that he saw himself as Death. He viewed what he was doing as an act of defiance against a higher power, which would be the king in reference to the card, but outside of that, it could have been a number of things. This could have been personally or politically motivated, but it was unlikely that these killings were sadistic or sexual. We didn’t need a card to tell us that. These shootings were long distance kills. There was no satisfaction that came from them, especially with how fast the Unsub was fleeing the scene. But toying with us because he knew that the FBI was involved now… That changed how we were building the profile. It meant that this probably wasn’t personally motivated, which left politics.

“Are we absolutely sure that this is the same guy?” I asked Rossi. He looked confused, like he didn’t understand where I was coming from. I decided to clarify. “Sure, the M.O. is the same, but this card changes everything. Why would he deviate from what he knows?”

“To tell us that he knows we’re here.”

“Obviously. But why does he care? The killings are signal enough. Why communicate like this?”

“Maybe Reid will figure something out.” Rossi shrugged.

I nodded an agreement. Something was different about this whole crime scene compared to the last ones. Despite how rushed they seemed, they were still more… I don’t know, organized in some way. Before, the Unsub was waiting until the target was alone to shoot them. But this was the middle of the day, around hundreds of witnesses. And the change in M.O. almost made the scene feel sloppy, in some way. As much as I hated to admit it, Reid could possibly give us some insight into the card, or maybe Garcia would be able to find something on the street cameras. Either way, we were stuck where we were. Those who were still at the office would be more helpful.

The drive back to the office was slower. It felt like going down to the crime scene in the first place was a waste of our time. Maybe that was the purpose of the shootings. It was possible that the Unsubs were doing this just to lead us around on a wild goose chase while they were working on something bigger. If that were true, however, then what was the bigger picture? Why string along the police and the FBI rather than just go for it. Like 9/11, they could have gone for the big one first. Why this? Why make us run around?

None of my questions seemed answered by the time we got back to the field office. Kate and Hotch were trying to run through some theories, but I had tried to focus on putting the clues together myself. Unfortunately, that didn’t seem to help. We got out of the car, and we were walking in, but I had nothing to contribute to their conversation. I think my silence was noted by Hotch, but he didn’t say anything to me about it.

As we waited for the elevator, Rossi, Morgan, and Brustin met up with us. They all started talking with Hotch and Kate about hypotheses, but I still didn’t get it. My whole “thing” was taking a quick look at something and being able to put it together with a snap of my fingers. I liked that it was my thing. Sometimes it meant that I would come to conclusions faster than Reid, and that was always a win in my book. But this case. These crime scenes. This Unsub. None of it was adding up, and I hated that I was falling short.

The elevator doors opened to Kate’s floor and we all stepped out.

“What do you have?” Hotch asked after noticing how Reid, Emily, and JJ were all crowded around a computer.

JJ looked up at us shortly before returning her gaze to the computer. “Garcia sent us the latest shooting.”

Emily played the video for us as we all gathered around them. Kate pushed herself between me and Hotch, earning a slight scoff from me and Morgan as we were shoved around. I rolled my eyes slightly, then looked down at the computer. As the footage played, we saw our victim, still unidentified, hailing for a cab with a hot dog in hand. Classic New York. A few moments later, just as a taxi was pulling up, a hooded man walked up with a gun in hand, shot the victim in the back of his head, and hurried off in a sprint.

I cocked a brow. That wasn’t very nonchalant of the Unsub. His whole thing was making this as casual as possible. So now, not only did he break M.O. by shooting with witnesses around, then leaving a card to taunt us, but now he was racing away? It didn’t feel like our guy, if I were being honest. Maybe it was a copycat, or maybe this was just another random shooting like New York saw all the time. Since we hadn’t identified the victim yet, it was possible that this was a gang hit, or maybe a hire to kill situation, or something along those lines. But it didn’t match up with our Unsub.

“Garcia says that they’re different heights, too,” Reid told us while Emily played back the video footage of the first shooting. Again, the differences were standing out. It was so obvious. “And their body types are different.”

“We’ve got more than one Unsub,” Hotch sighed, putting a palm on his forehead.

That changed our entire profile. We weren’t dealing with one guy who was politically motivated anymore. We were dealing with a duo who were trying to make a point of something. Duos were always easy to profile, though, which was a relief. In every duo case, there was a dominant and a submissive. Much like mine and Hotch’s relationship, the dominant had control over the submissive, but their connection and attraction was through their crimes— which, obvious, wasn’t like me and Hotch at all. The question in this case was which of them was the submissive and which of them was the dominant? Based on behaviors, it seemed like the first Unsub, the one who had performed the first six kills, was relaxed during the whole endeavor, which meant that he had confidence about what he was doing. On the other hand, the last kill was sloppy and rushed. If I were to guess, I would’ve said that the first Unsub was the dominant. He wanted to perform the murders because he got the most enjoyment out of them and because he knew how to do it properly; whereas the second Unsub, the submissive, seemed less sure about what to do and if doing it was right at all.

The big question now that the dominant/submissive profile was built was… why? Why were they doing this? My original hypothesis based on deductions formed around the profile of one Unsub told me that this was related to politics, but a duo killing at random changed things… And why would the submissive leave the Tarot card at the crime scene?

“Until we know why we’re doing this, we can’t get ahead of them,” Morgan said. “I think that we should get out on the streets. Increase police presence to force them into hiding while we try to build a stronger profile.”

“I only brought you here to create a profile, Agent Morgan. I don’t need your advice about what to do on the streets,” Kate responded calmly, though there was a bite to her words.

Morgan shifted on his feet. “I understand that, Agent Joyner, and we’ll have the profile ready in the morning. However, I think that based on the profile we have as of now, the smart thing to do would be to—”

“I still didn’t ask, Agent Morgan. Thank you, but I won’t be tiring out our forces just for an overnight shift.”

“They’re targeting areas like 14th Street, 42nd, 59th, 63rd—”

“Morgan,” Hotch interrupted, “it’s not your call.”

Morgan glanced between me and Hotch, as though I’d give him backup on this. I didn’t know what to say or do, though. None of us did. The whole team was just standing there, listening to Morgan and Kate’s back and forth, and Hotch, with his boss tone, had to step in to diffuse the tension. I didn’t need to get mixed up in it. I didn’t need to choose between my best friend and my boyfriend. Hotch was right that this wasn’t Morgan’s call. We were asked in by Kate to consult, that was all. He tried to tell Kate what he thought was right, and if she didn’t want to hear it, then that was her choice. He didn’t need to argue with her about it.

“Take a walk for a bit,” Hotch offered quietly.

Morgan stared at me. “You’re not going to say anything?”

“Morgan—” I tried to explain, but he threw his hands up like he didn’t want to hear it, and he walked off.

I sighed, taking a defeated step back. Hotch and Kate both looked at me, but I didn’t look at them. Instead, I told Emily to play the two videos again so that we could get back to work. Morgan clearly didn’t want me to chase after him, so I wasn’t going to. Even though it made me feel like shit. If we were going to get these guys before they could kill again, then we needed to ignore distractions for a bit. I’d apologize to Morgan later. It would probably be a nasty argument, but I think he’d understand that I wasn’t about to choose between them while in front of the team and Kate. I wouldn’t choose between them anyhow. That wasn’t fair of him.

“I can’t stare at this any longer,” Emily sighed, giving up while moving out of the seat in front of the computer.

Hotch stood tall and crossed his arms. “We’re not finding anything new. I think it’s fair to say we’re all worn out after the long day we’ve had.” He looked to Kate, “I think it’s time to call it a night.”

She nodded. “Fair enough.”

“We’ll come back at seven in the morning to give our profile.”

Kate reached out for a hug to say goodnight, but Hotch dodged it just to give her a handshake. She awkwardly accepted his hand, then Hotch ordered the team to move out. Rossi and I exchanged a glance which said: “What the fuck?” as we all headed towards the elevators.

We all grabbed our go-bags from the trunks of our cars before heading into the hotel for the night. Emily, JJ, and Reid were talking ahead about the profile, meanwhile Morgan and Hotch were hanging back with me in silence. The three of us didn’t know what to say to each other. Morgan probably still felt stung by the fact that Hotch took Kate’s side and that I didn’t do anything to stand up for him. To be fair, though, Morgan was a big boy, and he could handle himself. He knew that he overstepped with Kate. He didn’t need me.

“JJ,” Reid croaked, coming to a stop.

I nearly ran into him when I noticed what he saw. The rest of the team took notice just as quickly, but we all stayed frozen in the lobby. JJ, however, perked up and hurried over to the lounge where Will was sitting, reading an article in the newspaper about the shootings we were working on. When he noticed that we were all standing there, he jumped to his feet so that he could hug JJ, who was running at him with full speed and force.

“What are you doing here?” she asked him as they parted.

“I tried goin’ to D.C., but when that didn’ work out, I took a train here to come see ya.” He bit his lip as he stared at her.

He was so in love with her. I wasn’t sure if anyone else could tell, or if even JJ and Will were aware, but he was absolutely head over heels for her. I could see it. I knew it because it was the same way Hotch looked at me. He looked at her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered, and that nothing could change the way he felt about her. She was one of the lucky ones. I hoped that she knew that.

“Detective,” Hotch greeted, sticking his hand out for Will after we all approached cautiously.

Will shook Hotch’s hand politely. “I’m sorry for showin’ up like this. I know that y’all are working. But, um…” He hesitated as he looked back at JJ. “I can’t stand you being on this case with what’s goin’ on.”

I furrowed my brows and looked at Hotch. Did he know what was going on and elected not to tell the team because JJ asked him not to? Telling by how confused he seemed, I could tell that he didn’t know what Will meant either. Especially when he asked, “Is there a problem?”

JJ slowly turned to face all of us. She gulped as she found the courage for what she wanted to say. “I’m pregnant.”

“And I’ve asked JJ to marry me,” he said to Hotch.

Hotch smiled and shook Will’s hand again. “Congratulations.”

My eyes brightened as I threw my arms around JJ after Emily hugged her. I whispered a thousand congratulations in her ear. This was great news. We needed some good news, especially with how messy and dark our jobs were. A bright light like a baby was a gift and a half for us. I was so happy for her. While I didn’t realize that they were that serious, that didn’t stop me from hugging JJ as tight as I could and telling her that I was so excited for her and Will.

“We’ll give you two some privacy to sort things out, then,” Hotch said after JJ and I parted.

“Thank you, Hotch,” JJ said, hugging him shortly.

He smiled politely, but not like he was genuinely happy like the rest of us. He turned away to head for the elevators, and I started following him like it was an obligation, but JJ chased after him. When his attention was caught, he turned back to her and huffed, “You could have told me, JJ.”

“I know, Hotch,” she told him with lowered shoulders. “But you and Y/N—” She stopped herself. “I heard about what happened in St. Louis, and I didn’t want to… I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

I stiffened slightly. St. Louis felt like a lifetime ago. Back then, Hotch and I talked about having kids and if it were realistic for us. It turned into us having a string of arguments about it over the few days we were there, and, ultimately, I gave up because he seemed adamant on not talking about kids. He didn’t want to talk about it, let alone come to a conclusion, so I decided that he meant he didn’t want to have kids. At least not with me. And while that broke my heart into a million pieces, he tried to apologize and explain to me that he was just scared— but all that told me was that he was scared of having kids with me.

JJ had stumbled into the room while we were having one of those arguments, but I thought that she didn’t hear anything or forgot about it entirely. I never thought in a million years that she would have kept something like this from us because she was worried about stirring up more arguments between me and Hotch. Of course I was excited for her. I thought Hotch would be, too… And maybe he was, but at the moment, he just looked disappointed that she felt like she couldn’t tell him what was going on. Even worse, she didn’t tell him, and he was letting her come out into the field, which wasn’t safe. He probably felt like shit. Meanwhile, I felt like shit because she felt like she couldn’t come to me, a friend, because she didn’t want her pregnancy to impact my relationship? What kind of sense did that make? Hotch and I were our own people. We made our own choices. If we fought, we fought. Fighting was healthy. Talking about our future was good. She shouldn’t have been afraid to talk to me. I was a horrible friend…

“We’ll see you in the morning,” Hotch said to her before turning again.

JJ and I stared at each other for a moment. We both looked sorry. “I’m so happy for you, JJ. He’ll come around. I promise.” I squeezed her shoulder quickly, then ran after Hotch who was holding the elevator for me.

When the elevator doors closed, Hotch snaked his arm around my waist and pulled me towards him so that our hips were touching. As I smiled lightly and hugged him by putting my palm on his chest, he kissed my temple and whispered that he loved me.

At our room, I sighed as I closed the door behind us. It had been an incredibly long day, but the good news we just received in the lobby made up for most of it. Hotch set his briefcase down on the desk, and I put my purse beside it. We both sighed again as we put our go-bags on the floor, then sat on the edge of the bed. I pulled off my shoes while he stared at the window for a bit. When my feet were finally free, I reached down to grab my pajamas from my go-bag. I started getting dressed as the deafening silence hung in the air.

“Do you ever think about it still?” Hotch asked, pulling off his shoes one at a time. I raised a brow. “Having kids, I mean. I know that we talked about it in St. Louis, and we said that we’d hold out, but… are there ever times when you think about it… or maybe… I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Regret the choice we made?”

I shook my head. “Not really. I mean, I know that we’ll talk about it again when we’re ready.”

“What if we’re ready now?”

I paused and looked at him. I asked myself what he meant by that, and if it was really what I thought it meant. I mean, there were a thousand different things he could have been insinuating, but I was scared to guess which one, or to take the words out of his mouth. We were obviously happy for JJ and Will, and baby fever was obviously a real thing, but I didn’t think that Hotch would ever let it get to him like this.

“I mean, would you even want to get married? I know that we said we’d wait to have kids for when it would make the most sense for us; and don’t you think that getting married first—”

“Aaron.”

I froze after saying his name to let the silence sit. I didn’t have to think about it. I knew what my answer would have been if he actually got around to asking me to marry him. Of course I’d marry him in a heartbeat. I would do the whole lavish wedding, or I’d do a spur of the moment, Vegas shotgun wedding where an Elvis Presley impersonator officiated it. I would have literally done anything to marry Aaron Hotchner. Whatever he wanted, I wanted. If he wanted to run away to Fiji and get married there, I would have booked the first flight. If he wanted to wait the appropriate two year engagement period, then have a wedding in a huge venue with all of our friends and family, I would have started saving up the money.

I didn’t need to think about marrying Hotch. I didn’t even need to think about having kids with him. He was the one in St. Louis who got all uptight about the prospect of it when I brought it up. If he thought that we were ready to get married and to have kids, then I was ready to ask him what the hell took him so long to come around.

“If you’d ever ask,” I began quietly, “I’d say yes.” I tied my hair back out of my face as I continued getting ready for bed, trying to break the tension in the room. I could tell that his eyes were following me, but I didn’t stop to take note. “But you can only ask if you do it properly and not while we’re on a case. Never, ever on a case. Do you hear me, Agent Hotchner?” I stopped long enough to see that he was grinning ear to ear while nodding. “Good.” I smirked as I headed towards the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face.

Hotch jumped up from the bed, took his shirt off, and joined me in the bathroom to get ready for bed, too. We both started with brushing our teeth, and nothing was said between us. I kept catching him watching me through the mirror, and I rolled my eyes a few times at him. His question was still echoing through my mind, and I was sure that my answer was racing through him. I loved him more than anything. Truly. But there were times when I’d ask myself why he would look at me like that. I always wondered a lot if St. Louis was proof of some kind that Hotch and I were ultimately doomed to fail, but then he brought up kids and marriage again tonight, and I knew that he meant it. But why?

I finished brushing my teeth and washing my face long before him, somehow. Still facing the mirror, my eyes avoiding his reflection, I spoke up with, “Can I ask you something?” Hotch’s reflection stared at me for a moment before he nodded slightly. “Why me?”

“I don’t understand.”

My gaze fell to the faucet in front of me. “I mean, why… why me, Aaron? What’s so… I don’t know… appealing about me…”

Truth was, since first laying eyes on Kate, I couldn’t get over the fact that Hotch obviously had a type. Despite his insistence that nothing happened between them, there was still no denying that at one point or another, they had a spark, and some of that chemistry was still there. I asked myself that if I didn’t know Hotch, or if we weren’t dating, would he be with Kate? She looked so much like Haley, just like everyone had been whispering about all day. The fact that they had chemistry and she resembled his ex-wife, that would have been reason enough for him to seek her out once he was no longer with Haley, right? I mean, if I weren’t in the picture, maybe it would be her in the hotel room with him and not me.

I just didn’t understand how he could have a clear type, and then somehow end up with me. I tried to not be an insecure person considering I needed to have enough self-confidence to work in the field I was in, to take the chance of dating my boss, to bite back at Morgan and Reid playfully, and to stand up to Strauss when she was a pain in my ass. I needed to believe in myself or else I would fail in my career and personal life. But I was human, and sometimes I would look in the mirror, like I was doing just then, and I’d ask myself what Hotch saw in me. Why did he choose me? Why did he spend years silently passing by my office just to smile at me when he was married or, afterwards, when he could have had anyone else? Why me? What was so amazing about me that he could look me in the eyes and tell me that he loved me every day?

“Look at me,” he told me as he dropped his hairbrush on the counter. I reluctantly faced him. “I came alive when I finally met you. I saw colors for the first time. I could hear things I couldn’t hear before. I could feel things that I could never feel before. I look at you, and I see a lifetime of happiness waiting for me in your arms. When you first told me you love me, I could feel my heart restarting in my chest. I have lost a lot, Y/N… but meeting you… loving you… It’s the one constant I know I will have for the rest of my life. Every morning, I wake up and I look at you, and I think to myself that I got so damn lucky to find someone like you who loves me for me, while still encouraging me to do more, learn more, be more. I ask myself how anyone could come into my mess of a life and somehow choose to stick around, but somehow you do it. You continue to amaze me every single day when I see you at work, doing what you love, saving people’s lives. My heart melts every time I see you with Jack. My knees buckle every time you tell me you love me, and I swear I could listen to it forever.” He stepped closer to me and put his palms on my cheeks. “I look at you and I fall in love with you over and over again. I hold you in my arms and I think to myself that I should never let go because I’m so afraid that if I do, I might lose you somehow— and the thought of not getting to look at you every day, to hold you in my arms, to kiss your lips—” he dragged his thumb over my bottom lip— “to tell you that I love you every chance I can get… The thought of not having that with you because I might fuck something up… It terrifies me. You are the one person in the world who gets me. That’s why it’s you. That’s why it will always be you. You once told me that you’d never stop fighting for me, is that still true?” I nodded, pressing into his touch lovingly. “I knew the day I met you that I would do anything for you. I know that I’ll always fight for you. I know that I’d even die for you. That’s why.”

Before I could respond, Hotch leaned in close and kissed me with a fiery passion that expressed every word he just said to me in a way that both of us could feel. It was almost like his words were echoing through my body. I felt electric and on fire, all at the same time. I felt his love, warmth, and compassion with every second that passed by. Everything he said to me finally made sense when he kissed me, because I remembered that what he said was just as true for me as it was for him.

I loved Aaron Hotchner so much that it hurt sometimes. There were times when I would look at him and I would nearly cry because I was so happy, because I was so in love. No one had ever loved me like he did, and no one took the time to tell me why. Most people would have brushed off my question or allowed it to spiral into an argument because they couldn’t actually think of something to say. But not Hotch. He knew exactly what to say.

I jumped onto my tip toes and started kissing him harder to let him know that I heard him, I believed him, and I felt it all for him, too. I’d fight and die for him. I loved him more than anything in the world. Nothing made me feel more alive than kissing him. Nothing made me feel more at home than his arms. Nothing was more loving and comforting than the way he said that he loved me. The tug in my chest towards his heart skipped a beat as I thought it. I loved him. I loved him so much. I couldn’t think about anything else but how much I loved him. There weren’t enough ways to tell him just how much I loved him. The words didn’t exist, and even if they did, I didn’t have enough time in life to tell him every piece of it. There were a million and one reasons to love Aaron Hotchner, but I loved him for a billion different reasons.

Hotch lifted me off the ground. I wrapped my legs around his hips, and with my sudden height over him, I used it to dominate our kiss shortly. He set me down on the counter and pushed me away with a gentle hand on my neck. “You meant it, baby?” he asked me quietly, pressing his forehead to mine. “You’d say yes?” He was so stupid sometimes, I swear. He couldn’t just take yes for what it was. “And… and the other thing…”

“Aaron,” I whispered against his nose, “I love you more than anything. I don’t want to lose you either. So what do you think?” I smiled in response to his smirk. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. Does that answer it?”

“Say it again.”

“Yes.” I pecked his lips. “I’d say yes, Aaron Hotchner. I’d always say yes.”

He grabbed my hips roughly and pressed a sudden, breathtaking kiss against my lips. I tried to grab ahold of him before I could fall back against the mirror behind me. We both giggled against each other. I loved him… I wanted to scream it from the top of my lungs— which I was sure was what he planned on making happen within the next hour or so— and I never wanted to stop saying it. I loved Aaron Hotchner. I would marry Aaron Hotchner. I wanted to have kids with Aaron Hotchner. I wanted to devote my entire life and being to Aaron Hotchner. I loved him, I loved him, I loved him. Yes, yes, yes. Always.

At seven, half of the team was already set up at the police station to give the profile there, while the other half of us were at the FBI New York Field Office to deliver the profile to the Bureau workers. Since this was a joint task force operation, it was imperative that the NYPD was also aware of what we were looking for. That being said, I was glad that I didn’t draw the short stick on that one. Emily, Spencer, and Morgan had to go downtown to talk with them, meanwhile Hotch, Rossi, and I went to the field office. They were well behaved and good listeners. The NYPD, on the other hand… with how Morgan lost it last night, I did not pity them.

Delivering the profile was fairly textbook, but the profile itself was anything but that. It seemed like the team heeded my advice about the Unsubs’ intentions, because the profile we built around them relied heavily on the fact that they were politically motivated. There was some kind of bigger plan at play, though we weren’t sure yet what it was. That was why we needed everyone else’s help. We knew that because there were two Unsubs completing the tasks of these seemingly random murders, we were dealing with a dominant/submissive pair. Explaining that part to the field office was fairly textbook, however. Because of how they had planned and executed these attacks, it was easy to conclude that they were sophisticated and intelligent. Therefore, at least the dominant had a steady job—which was also why they were only hitting at certain times.

When we concluded delivering the profile to the agents in the field office, I saw Hotch pull Kate to the side to discuss putting more men on the street. When they left, everyone turned to me. The snickers that had been plastered to their faces yesterday morning when joking about how they liaised together were now frowns and pouts of apologies. But I wasn’t jealous or upset. Not since last night. What Hotch and I discussed—what we practically decided—made me over the moon happy. How could I be jealous of Kate anymore when I knew that Hotch wanted to marry me and he saw us living our whole lives together? I trusted him. I had to remind myself of that. The team didn’t know these new developments, however. All they knew was that all of yesterday, I looked miserable while thinking about what could have potentially happened between Hotch and Kate. But last night… “Magical” felt like a hyperbolic term or one alluding to Disney, which in itself felt overdramatic, but… last night… Hotch and I… There were honestly no words.

While everyone went to go back to work after giving me soft, apologetic eyes, I grabbed JJ’s hand and practically yanked her into the women’s bathroom. She tried protesting, but I didn’t relent. Once the door was closed behind us, I turned to her with a giddy smile that only made her urge for answers more prominent.

“Hotch and I talked last night,” I told her, making sure all of the stalls were clear. She was watching me like I was a crazy person. I turned to her with a wider smile once I was sure that we were alone. “I think he’s going to propose once we get home.”

JJ’s eyes widened, but not in a good way like I had for her last night. She seemed genuinely shocked and almost… disturbed. “What?” she scoffed.

I tried to maintain my smile. “Yeah. We talked last night, and I think you bringing up St. Louis again brought up a good point for us, JJ. We’re ready. We’ve always been ready, but we’ve just been scared.” I took her hands. “JJ, I think this is it. Seriously.”

“I—” she chuckled back another scoff as she carefully tore her hands away from mine. “I didn’t realize that you two were that serious.”

My smile finally faded. “What?”

“I mean…” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You guys have only been dating for, what, a year? And you were already talking about kids around the six months mark or so? And now you’re talking about getting married? Don’t you think you’re moving things a little fast?”

I took a defensive, defeated step away from her. “What?” I repeated like a broken record.

“Listen, Y/N, dating Hotch and seeing Jack occasionally is one thing, but are you really willing to be Jack’s mother just as much as Haley is? Are you willing to spend more time with Haley for the sake of Hotch and Jack without making things awkward for them? Are you prepared for if Hotch makes a widow of you while on a case—or is he even prepared for if you make a widower of him? Have you considered any of this before taking the idea of marriage seriously?”

I thought that, of all people, JJ would get it. She hardly knew Will any longer than Hotch and I knew each other, and they were already having a kid together. Why was it that she got that opportunity freely, but I had to consider a thousand different things and jump through a million hoops to prove that I loved Hotch and that I would do anything for him? Yes, I was willing to be a mother to Jack—actually, I would have loved to be a mother to Jack. I practically already felt like I was. What was the difference in putting the actual label on it? And, of course I was willing to spend more time with Haley. There was obviously a cold shoulder feeling between us, but for the most part, we got along fairly well. If dealing with Haley meant being with Hotch and Jack, then, yes, I was willing to do that. And losing Hotch… No… I wasn’t ready for that. No one was ever ready for something like that. I was sure that Will and JJ weren’t even prepared for potentially losing each other. That wasn’t a fair jab on JJ’s behalf. It wasn’t. Losing Hotch was my worst nightmare. If anything bad ever happened to him, I’d die.

Before I could say anything to argue with JJ, there was a knock at the door. We both sighed off the tension as we looked away from one another. I cleared my throat. JJ opened the door slightly. I could see a sliver of Hotch’s silhouette, but he was keeping his back turned to not make it look like he was peeking into the women’s bathroom.

JJ looked at me slightly, “There’s another victim.”

I cursed under my breath. Before she could say anything else, I pushed past her and hurried out of the bathroom. Hotch and I brushed shoulders as I stormed out. I could sense that, behind me, Hotch and JJ were exchanging a glance where Hotch was asking for answers and JJ was shrugging off his gaze.

In the office space, I could hear that Morgan and Kate were fighting again. I wasn’t sure what was going on between them, but it was really starting to tick me off. There were a thousand reasons I should have been picking fights with Kate, but I knew that it wasn’t my place and there wasn’t time. I also talked to Hotch—you know, as adults do, and we solved the issue before it could be blown out of proportion. Whatever was going on with Morgan needed to be resolved soon or I was actually going to smack some sense into him.

“We could’ve had that guy!” Morgan exclaimed. “If you and Hotch just listened to me last night, this wouldn’t’ve happened.”

Kate rolled her eyes. “Even if we were on that platform, odds are that they would have targeted a different, less policed platform.”

“Yeah, well, at least that woman would still be alive.”

“Morgan,” Hotch said, coming up from behind me to step between them, “second-guessing isn’t going to do any of us any good right now—”

Morgan turned his attention. “Hotch, how am I supposed to look these cops in the eye and tell them that we’re here to help?”

“You’re not. We’re here to give the profile, that’s all.”

“I said to put us at express stops. 14th, 42nd, 59th, 63rd. That’s exactly where they hit!”

“It’s not your place to have this discussion or make this decision, Derek!”

“My place?” Morgan scoffed. “My place, Hotch? Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

“You need to back off. You need to stay focused here and not let your emotions get in the way.”

Morgan chuckled. “That’s funny, Hotch. Focused. From where I’m standing, all of your focus has been on her,” he pointed at Kate.

Kate rolled her eyes, Hotch bit the inside of his cheek, and I sighed to myself while trying to practically hide behind Rossi. I didn’t want to get mixed up in any of that. Morgan had a short fuse since coming to New York. Whatever possible reason there was for it, I needed to wait until he was cooled down to confront him about it. As for what he said about Hotch and Kate, he wasn’t necessarily wrong. Yes, Hotch was going out of his way to stand up for Kate, even though it wasn’t his job to. I supposed that should have made me mad, but I couldn’t focus on anything besides what JJ said to me in the bathroom. I confided in her as a friend. I thought that she would have been excited for me, yet I was only met with skepticism. I hated it.

“Take a walk. Now,” Hotch said quietly and angrily.

Morgan huffed, giving up on fighting with Hotch again. He didn’t look at me as he turned towards the elevators so that he could catch some of that “fresh” New York City air. There was silence for the longest time in the office. Kate was watching Hotch, but he was watching me, and I was watching JJ. We all had different things on our minds, and none of it had to do with the case. Great. How were we supposed to save people like this? How were we supposed to put our jobs first when Kate clearly still had feelings for Hotch, and he was worried about me and the conversation we had last night, all the while I was mad at JJ for what she said. And then there was Morgan… Morgan was mad at practically all of us. He was mad at Kate for who knew what, he was mad at Hotch for defending her over him, he was mad at me for not having his back, and he was mad at the rest of the team for not taking a side.

“Kate,” Hotch whispered, nodding towards her office. She caught his hint and followed him there.

The rest of us stood around, completely clueless as to what we should do. Normally, we would head down to the crime scene to investigate, but that system had proven to be useless over the past couple of murders. More was getting done around the office than the crime scenes. But not this time. It felt like we were always in the wrong place. Maybe Morgan really did have a point. If Hotch and Kate had just listened to him, this wouldn’t have happened—or maybe it still would’ve happened, but at least we would’ve had cops on the streets to try and stop the Unsub, or maybe someone on the team could race to the crime scene to tell us if it were worth taking a look at or not. But now we had nothing. Kate and Hotch were talking privately and the rest of us were doing fuck all.

It didn’t take long for them to talk, however. Hotch opened the door to her office again, ushering her through, and then they met us back in the office space.

“We’re going to be putting all of our forces on the streets today,” Kate announced to everyone.

“Now?” I questioned. We had no proof that they would hit more than once in one day. What was the point of taking Morgan’s advice now? It would have been better if they just waited until tomorrow.

Kate squinted at me. “Yes. Now. We’ll all pair up, taking different streets and stations where we anticipate their next attack. Even if they won’t strike again today, it’s very likely that they’ll be scouting their next targets, which means that they’ll stick out like sore thumbs. Our job today is to look for people out of place and to question them. That’s all.”

I scoffed quietly and looked at Hotch. Now I know how Morgan felt “I’ll go with Derek, I guess.” I threw my hands up in disbelief of what I was seeing and hearing. I couldn’t believe Hotch was agreeing to this. We could’ve been staying to work on the profile instead of stalking the streets for no reason.

So while everyone quietly started pairing up, they kept an eye on me as I headed for the elevator. When I reached the lobby, I saw Morgan pacing angrily, hitting the wall with his foot every time he ran into one. When he spotted me, though, he stopped pacing, and his face softened a bit. My face was still hot with the anger that was building in my chest. Morgan’s frustration was rubbing off on me and I didn’t exactly appreciate it.

“Let’s go,” I huffed, walking straight past him. He followed on my heels. “Kate’s finally putting everyone out on the street.”

“You’re kidding,” he chortled.

“We’re all one step behind these two Unsubs, yet Kate seems about three steps behind us. I don’t understand why Hotch trusts her so much.”

“Their history?”

I shook my head as we pushed through the front doors of the building. “I asked him about it, and he told me that nothing ever happened between them.”

“Be that as it may, but they still have some kind of feelings for each other. She definitely likes him more, and I’m not saying he likes her like that, but… There was something there at some point, Y/N, and that’s all getting dragged up again.”

“I get that,” I said when we reached the SUV on the road that we were going to take to our assignment. “But that still doesn’t excuse his ignorance.”

“I know.”

We got in the car and I told Morgan where we were headed.

We were sitting in the car for a few hours, scanning the road, watching pedestrians as they passed by. Morgan and I chatted a bit about stuff outside of work because that was clearly a sore, irritating topic for us both. Unfortunately, there was a good hour or so where I had to hear about some of his hookups. Every detail. I think he forgot that just because we were best friends didn’t exactly mean I needed to hear about how many women he could sleep with in one night. I mean, hey, I was glad he trusted me with that information, but there were some things that were better unsaid.

“What’s going on with you?” I asked quietly. Morgan looked at me suddenly. “Why are you and Kate arguing all the time?”

Morgan sighed. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing. She’s got you all riled up. For what?”

His grip tightened on the steering wheel out of frustration. “Hotch told me something yesterday.” I cocked a brow. “The Bureau’s going to fire Kate if she doesn’t close this case with a ribbon on top.”

“Okay. So? Why should you care? Do you like her or something?”

He shot me a glare. “No. If she’s kicked out, I’m at the top of her replacement list.”

My heart dropped to my stomach. That was why he was challenging authority. He could see the position in his future. He saw that he could potentially be running the New York Field Office soon, and he was letting it get to his head. The whole point of our job was that we weren’t supposed to let emotions get in the way, but he was doing the exact opposite, almost like he was hoping that Kate would fail. Obviously, we didn’t want this pair of Unsubs to keep killing, but… he wanted that job. And I didn’t blame him. I didn’t want him to leave us—to leave me, but it was a good fucking opportunity. If he ended up getting the job offer for one reason or another, I’d have to let him go, even though it would kill me. He was my best friend. He was my partner in the field. I didn’t know how to do this without him. But if I had to, then I had to. That was life.

“Morgan—”

“Garcia! We’ve got an officer down!” Emily shouted into the comms. Morgan immediately pressed his foot onto the gas pedal while l turned on the lights and sirens. “16th West of Union Square!”

We weren’t very far from 16th. I mean, in New York traffic, we were pretty far; but with the lights and sirens on, we moved somewhat faster through the crowd of cars. Morgan weaved his way through, honking at every car that refused to move, cursing at every pedestrian that was in our way, cursing to himself that we weren’t getting to Emily faster. This was what he wanted, though. He told Kate we should put cops on the streets. Yet look what happened. Cooper went with Emily, and she called it in, but what were we supposed to do if we found Emily lying on the concrete, too? I don’t think either of us would be able to handle it.

As we approached 17th, I could see the crowd surrounding an alleyway just on 16th. Morgan made a turn and sped up to them to see what was going on. While he slowed down, I popped my door open and jumped out, running with the momentum of the car a bit to make sure I wouldn’t fall flat on my face. I pushed through the crowd of pedestrians, calling out: “FBI! Move!” while shoving them around. When I got through, I saw them. Emily was crouched over Cooper, and there was an Unsub about ten feet away from them, bleeding out.

I cursed under my breath and ran to the Unsub, pulling off my jacket so that I could use it to put pressure on his wounds. He couldn’t die. We needed him. He was our only chance of getting answers. But he wasn’t conscious. He was breathing, yet he wasn’t awake. If we could keep him alive long enough, to keep the two bullet wounds in his chest at bay for just a few more hours, we could get answers.

I pressed onto my jacket on his chest with both of my palms. I was trying to stop the bleeding until the paramedics could arrive, but he was already bleeding through the fabric of my jacket. I didn’t know what else to do. The ambulances were close—I could hear their sirens just a few blocks away. But I didn’t know what else to do. With all the blood he lost… And then he started to crash. My breath hitched before I started performing CPR in a panic. We couldn’t lose him. We just couldn’t.

He suddenly woke up with a gasp. As his eyes adjusted to the sunlight, he tried to wiggle around, but I held him still to make sure he wouldn’t cause anymore internal harm. He looked up at me. “Let me die.”

I froze. I wasn’t going to let him die. No. “What’s your name?”

“Let me die…”

“No,” I answered quickly. “What’s your name, kid?”

“Ma’am, we’ll take it from here,” a paramedic said, racing up behind me. I didn’t even realize that they had already made it. So I moved back, letting them get to work since they could do more than I could. “Step away,” he insisted, pointing to the end of the alleyway.

I nodded silently, then slowly turned on my heels. As I slowly started making my way out of the alley, I glanced over my shoulder to get a look at the Unsub one last time. He was just a kid… seventeen or eighteen, maybe. He didn’t look like the type of submissive or dominant to be running around these streets. He just looked like any normal kid. So why? The dominant wouldn’t have gotten caught, and he didn’t fit the description of the submissive. So… what was going on?

“Are you okay?” Morgan asked worriedly, running up to a shell shocked Emily. She nodded slightly. “Is he going to make it?” We all looked at the ambulance where they were loading up Cooper to take him to the hospital.

Her gaze fell to the ground. “I— I don’t… I don’t know.”

I suddenly felt a hand on my shoulder. “You okay, kid?” Rossi asked me.

I didn’t say anything. That kid down there was going to die because I couldn’t do more… How was I supposed to live with that? I could shoot an Unsub, no problem, but trying to save a kid? It didn’t make sense why it was hitting me so hard. It shouldn’t have mattered. He should have been any old Unsub. But he was a kid… Hotch and I were talking about having kids… What if someone shot our— No.

“Let me get you something to wipe this off,” Rossi said, pointing to my bloody hands. He snapped at Reid, a signal to find a rag or something. “What happened?” he asked me, trying to get me to focus on something.

I shook my head. “I… Morgan and I got here afterwards… Emily… She…” I looked up at him as Reid returned with a rag and started gently wiping the blood off my hands. “He’s just a kid, Rossi. He doesn’t match the descriptions of our Unsubs.”

“You think that this is an unrelated, isolated case?” Reid inquired.

I glanced between him and my hands. The fucking blood wasn’t coming off. It was still wet, and it should have been wiped away with ease, but it was still there, drying, taunting me. I had a kid’s blood on my hands. “No,” I answered him quietly. “It’s the same; I just don’t understand how.” I shyly looked at Rossi. “He wanted me to let him die.”

Rossi’s face relaxed, almost like something important occurred to him. “I think we have a serious fucking problem,” he cursed under his breath. Reid stopped wiping my hands clean. When I looked down again, though, it didn’t look like he made any progress, so I started scratching at it. “We have multiple Unsubs, they’re willing to die— according to Y/N— they’re using counter-surveillance, there seems to be a hierarchy, a random thirst for blood, a need to create chaos amongst the masses—”

“Terrorists,” I mumbled.

“Exactly.”

“What do we have?” Hotch asked, running up to us with Kate hot on his heels.

Still scratching at my hands to get the blood off, I answered, “Cooper’s headed to the hospital, the Unsub’s too unstable to transport right now—”

“Do they think he’ll make it?” Kate inquired.

I stared at her for a moment before shaking my head. I continued talking to Hotch, “There’s a problem, though. This guy’s a third Unsub, and he begged me to let him die, Hotch. We were just talking about it…” I trailed off, unsure of how to proceed while still focusing on the damn blood that wouldn’t come off my hands.

Reid took over after noticing my awkward silence. “We think these guys might be terrorists.” Everyone’s posture changed. “The murders simulate bombings. Typically, with terrorist bombings, there’s one, less lethal bombing to gauge police response times, then there will be another bombing on another day with a second bombing to follow suit once the emergency responders get there. The targets are usually civilians for the test bombing and the first bombing so as to create chaos. The second bombing, however, is the main focus of the attacks, and that’s because attacking emergency responders is, in a way, attacking the government and the system itself. Today, what we saw was that plan finally being enacted. They’ve been test running with the past few shootings in order to get our attention, which is also what the Tarot card was for, and once they knew that they had first responders on the street, they went for it. If Emily didn’t shoot the Unsub, he would’ve shot her.”

I looked at the blood on my hands again to notice that it was gone. My palms were all red from scratching them up, but the blood had been gone ever since Reid wiped it away, and I hadn’t noticed. Something about how Reid mentioned that the Unsub lying on the ground probably seven feet away from us would’ve killed Emily made me suddenly less empathetic.

“This is the bigger play here, Aaron,” Rossi said. “This is what we’ve been missing.”

Hotch’s phone started ringing. He glanced at the caller ID first to see if it were something he could ignore while we were talking about a potential terror attack. It must have been important because he answered it and put it on speaker. “Garcia?”

“Sir, we’ve got a problem. I’ve been looking through all the cameras since the last shooting, and they’ve all been hacked into. That’s how they’ve been watching us. That’s how they’ve been ahead of us this entire time.”

“How did we not catch that sooner?”

“It was system wide. I had to check camera by camera to be sure.”

Hotch sighed. “Okay. Thanks, Garcia.” He hung up on her. “This isn’t just a theory anymore. If the shootings were just a test, there’s going to be something big.”

Hotch put his phone away in his pocket. “Morgan and Y/N, head to Homeland Security to discuss raising this to a terrorist watch level. It’s…” He hesitated. “It’s possible that there will be a bombing soon.”

“Morgan, you have bomb experience, so I want you to head this if it comes to that point,” Kate said. Morgan, Hotch, and I all seemed shocked. “If that’s alright with you.”

Morgan nodded. “Sure.”

Before jumping onto our toes so that we could hurry back to our car, Hotch stopped us to make sure that we would stay in contact. These guys were going after first responders and they were watching us. We had to consider that we were all targets. Morgan and I agreed. Then we hurried off. The second we were in our seats, Morgan started driving off. Neither of us had our seatbelts on.

The sun was already starting to set, which meant that it would be dark soon, and that we were running out of time. If this really was as bad as we figured it was, then it meant that a bomb could go off at any point. It could have happened before, during, or after our meeting with Homeland Security, and then what? The whole city would go under lock down, our whole team separated. It wasn’t ideal. So we had to race to convince Homeland Security that this was a real, viable threat.

My phone buzzed with a call that I picked up as soon as I could, not even bothering to look at the caller ID. “Greenaway,” I answered.

“Hey,” Hotch greeted, “I just wanted to let you know that Kate and I are heading back to the field office right now. When you and Morgan are done at Homeland, meet us there before we head to the hotel for the night.”

“Okay. Sounds good. I’ll let Morgan know.”

“Thanks. I love you.”

That caught me off guard for a moment, but I tried not to overthink it. It probably had to do with trying to prove to me and himself that nothing happened with Kate— at least nothing that mattered— or that our conversation last night shouldn’t matter, or maybe it really was just an accident. Either way, I returned the favor before hanging up and tossing my phone in the cup holder.

“What was that about?” Morgan inquired.

“Hotch wants us to meet up with him and Kate at the office before going back to the hotel for the night.”

“Did he say why?”

I shook my head. “I figure it’s probably just to review our meeting with Homeland Security, and then we’ll be set loose.”

“Hopefully. I’m exhausted.”

“I could use a drink.” I threw my head back against the headrest.

“What’s been up with you today?” he asked, keeping his eyes on the road. I raised a brow. “Come on, Greenaway. I know when something’s wrong with you.”

“How—”

“Don’t ask because I won’t tell you how I know. But, seriously, what is it?”

“Did JJ tell you?” I narrowed my eyes suspiciously.

He looked over at me. “No. But now you’ve piqued my interest.”

I silently cursed myself for saying anything at all. If I would have just kept my mouth shut, I could have denied that something was wrong, or I could have just avoided the topic altogether by not saying anything until we would get to the Homeland Security office. But now Morgan definitely wasn’t going to leave it alone. It wasn’t like I didn’t want to discuss Hotch with Morgan. I knew that Morgan loved me and he was glad that we were happy with each other… but after what JJ said, I was scared to talk about it with anyone else. I thought that, of all people, JJ would have understood; yet she took my heart in her hand and practically squeezed it into dust. I didn’t want Morgan to give me the same pessimistic opinion.

I let out a quiet sigh and stared at my sweaty palms. “Hotch and I talked last night about getting married and having kids.” I waited, trying to gauge if Morgan would protest just yet. He didn’t react, though. “I told him that I’d marry him in a heartbeat, and I’d have kids with him whenever. I mean… that wasn’t exactly what was said, but that was the gist of it… I was really excited about it, though, Derek. I felt like Hotch and I were on the same page about it, and I even figured that once this was all over with, he might even propose…” I hesitated when I saw his grip on the steering wheel tense. My shoulders fell in defeat. “JJ thinks we’re rushing and should hold off on making any big decisions like that.”

“I agree with JJ,” he insisted quickly before I could continue.

I felt my heart sink in my chest. My worst fear had been realized. It didn’t matter how happy anyone on the team was for me and Hotch, they didn’t understand why we were already talking about getting married a year into our relationship. Morgan would always give me shit for dating Hotch, but I thought that it was always because of the age difference, or the fact that he was my superior. But I never stopped to think that it was because he thought that Hotch and I weren’t actually that serious. We were. I couldn’t imagine my life with anyone else but Hotch. Of course I wanted to marry him and have a family with him. Why wait if we knew that it was what we wanted? What was the point of dancing around it? I was serious about it, Hotch was serious about it… Why could no one else seem to understand that?

Morgan took notice of my silence, so he decided to backpedal and explain himself. “You know I love you, sunshine, but… Come on. I know that things seem really good, and they probably are because you’re still technically in the honeymoon stage of your relationship, but I don’t want you to jump the gun on this and get hurt like Haley got hurt. Hotch is different around you, there’s no denying it. I just worry that he might wake up one day and realize that he doesn’t want to be this new person anymore. He might want to be who he’s always been. And if that happens, I don’t want you to get hurt because of it. It’s easy to wiggle out of a situation like that when you have no legal ties. But look at Haley. She wanted out, yet she’s still tied to him. If you get married, or if you have kids, and things fall apart, what are you going to do? Stick around like Haley does? Stay in the BAU and pretend like nothing happened?” He looked over at me, reading the disappointed look I was wearing, and he grabbed my hand. “I want what’s best for you. If you really think you’re ready for the next steps, then I can’t stop you. But maybe you should just think about it a little longer—”

My phone started ringing. I thanked literally every higher power imaginable from saving me from hearing the rest of that. And, honestly, Morgan was probably relieved, too. It seemed like he was rambling in order to try and save his rapport with me, but it wasn’t helping. I knew that he meant well. I knew that he loved me. I knew that he was just looking out for me. But I really wanted his support on this when JJ wouldn’t give it. I felt like if even one person could be happy for us, then that was good enough for me. But Hotch and I cared too much about our team and what they thought of us to not take into account how they each felt about us. If there was any chance that our relationship was going to impact the team, they had every right to know about it beforehand in the same way Jack and Haley deserved to know.

“Garcia?”

“Oh, my god, you’re okay,” she sighed with relief.

I raised a brow and put the call on speaker so that Morgan could listen in. “What’s going on?” I asked.

“You haven’t heard?”

Morgan and I shared a look of confusion. “Penelope, what happened?” Derek asked this time.

“I—Wh—” She sniffled.

“Penelope,” he insisted, getting worried.

“There was a bomb in one of the cars. I don’t know where anyone is, I don’t know who took which car, I don’t know who’s okay, I don’t—”

“Woah, woah, woah, baby girl. Calm down. Use your words. Explain what happened.”

We heard Garcia take in a deep, calming breath. “There was a bomb in one of the SUVs.”

“Where?”

“Just outside of the field office.”

I nearly dropped my phone. Hotch called me from the car he and Kate were in on their way to the field office. He told us to meet him there. He— He was in one of those SUVs. I just heard from him— It couldn’t be him, right? Right… Please. My head started to spin.

“Have you heard from Hotch?” Morgan asked for me.

“I haven’t heard from anyone. You guys are the first ones I called. I didn’t know what else to do—”

“Calm down. It’s going to be alright. Call my phone and keep me on the line while you try to get ahold of everyone else. Y/N’s going to call Hotch, alright?”

I silently thanked him for knowing me well enough to know that I would want to be the one to call Hotch. He probably understood that I was fearing the worst, thinking that it was Hotch and Kate in that bombing. He knew that I’d be desperate to get off the phone with Garcia so that I could get ahold of Hotch. I thanked him for knowing me like that. I thanked him for being my friend who looked out for me. Even if he was an asshole only a minute ago.

“Okay,” Garcia agreed. She hung up the call on my phone, and moments later, Morgan’s phone started to ring.

As he answered, I started dialing Hotch’s number. It started ringing. One. Beat. Two. Beat. Three. Beat. Four. Beat. Five. Beat. Click.

“You’ve reached Aaron Hotchner. Leave your name and message and I’ll get back to you when I can.”

#Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfic #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #Aaron Hotch Hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner imagine

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ginnyweasleywannabe · 3 years

Text

Treasure Hunt

Please enjoy the first chapter of my new fic "Treasure Hunt"

I will reblog with some authors notes. You can also read on AO3 under the username "inthemiddle2" (If I link it doesn't show up on tags, sorry) Final Word count:4499!!!!

Start:

“And you came to me for help because……?”

“Because you’re a greedy asshole.”

Two weeks prior….

“Marc, I don’t understand why I can’t just come with you!”

“Because Marlene, you’re about to finish up Uni, there’s still a lot of stuff for you to wrap up here… and you have the ceremony in two weeks”

Marlene let out a huff throwing her arms to the side, “Why do I even have to walk in that stupid ceremony, I’ve already done it once before. Besides what’s the point if you’re not going to be there, you’re the only one who cares about it.”

Marc stopped his packing with a quick roll of the eyes before turning around to face her, “Marley, I’ll be back in time for the ceremony, which is a big deal because you’re becoming a master!” He tried to get her excited, throwing his hands up and punctuating every following word, “Marlene McKinnon, Masters of Cryptology and Ancient History’, becoming an curse- breaker, like your ol’ bro.”

Marlene had to fight the sides of her mouth from twitching upward, “You’re the only one who calls themselves a ‘curse-breaker.”

Marc zipped up his duffle, “Marley, I’ll be back for the ceremony and then you’ll be done and you can join me on my next adventure.” He walked to the front door and gave her once last glance “I promise, finish up with your studies and then you can come with me.” He tried to give her a look of hope and understanding.

Marlene muttered a quick “fine” under her breathe and then lunged into his arms. She wouldn’t tell him but she was really going to miss him these up coming weeks. Curse-Breaking, as her brother liked to call it, was a bit of family tradition. Both her parents were in the field, which meant they were constantly traveling during her childhood. Gone for long periods of time of trying to chase down one ‘treasure’ or another. Marc was 12 years older than her which meant as soon as she was born her parents felt he was old enough to care for her while they were away.

“Stay out of trouble okay, kiddo?”

Marlene rolled her eyes, “I’m 23 years old you know, I can handle myself for two weeks.” She gave him a light shove out the door. She quickly checked her watch and saw she was running late to meet James. James was Marlene’s best friend, when Marlene was 11 Marc was getting to the age where he was having to travel more for work so Marlene was enrolled in a boarding school. Her mom’s best friend, Mia, had a son Marlene’s age who had been going to a boarding school since he was eight so off Marley was shipped away to Scotland. It was like no time had passed for her and James, they were instantly inseparable again. They spent the next seven years getting into all kinds of trouble but when it came time for Uni James went back home to London, to Hogwarts and Marlene went to a school in Glasgow. She had finished up her history and exploration degree there but had returned to London to attend Hogwarts for her yearlong master’s program. She was glad she had Marc and James to return home to, she need people to hang out with in the city and so began their tradition of getting a pint every Friday.

Marlene scanned the pub for James, she quickly found him because of the unmistakable red head with him. James had met Lily at Uni orientation and had been pining over her ever since, they had finally gotten together the winter holiday before Marlene had come back. You wouldn’t know it had only been a year in half though, they were perfect for each other. Marlene happened to know that James was hoping to pop the question this coming Christmas, Marlene however didn’t think he’d be able to wait the 7 months. She felt a sudden rush of nerves as she approached the group, doing a quick scan to see if he had shown up. She hadn’t expected him to, he never did if she was going to be there but still any time it was more than just her and James, she wondered if he would finally buck up the courage.

“Marley!!” Well, James had definitely spotted her, and had already had a couple pints it seemed. He was out of his seat and arms around her lighting fast. James was a professional football player for Chelsea.

Marlene let out a giggle, only Marc and James called her Marley, “Hiya Jamie! Had a few, have ya?”

James just gave her that dazzling lopsided grin, “Yeah well you’re late,” Marlene was always late places, “Marc left today, yeah?”

“Yeah”

James could tell she was a little down about the whole thing, even after all this time, she always was when he left.

“We’ll lets grab you one and you can tell me all about what treasure he’s chasing this time.” Marlene said a quick hello to the rest of the group; Lily, Remus, Mary, and Peter. She hadn’t know them before moving back to the city, they were all James’ friends from uni but they quickly accepted her into the group. With the promise of bring back some for everyone she and James made their way to the bar.

“Another round please Tom, and an extra for Marley here,” With a nod from Tom, James turned to Marlene, “So? What’s the gold this time? And how long will he be gone?” James and Marlene used to love hearing the stories her parents and Marc would tell them when they were little, usually a little embellished with Pirates, witches and wizards. James had idolized Marc growing up, he believed everything that came out of his mouth as fact.

Marlene turned to James with a big grin and said “Oh Jamie, you’re going to love this one! Its real, like really real! The Hogwarts treasure, Marcs figured it out- well mostly, but he sure of it. The sword, diadem, cup and even the locket! And with it gold, lots of it!” Marlene had rushed it all out almost in one big breathe. She was staring at him wide grin and big eyes waiting for him to react.

James just stared at her, “Marley, what are you talking about? That’s an old ghost story, and even if it was true its rumored that some Riddle guy stole it all like a couple hundred years ago. No one alive, heck most people dead, haven’t seen that treasure.” He gave a little laugh, “There’s no way it’s real or could even be found.”

“Come on James, its Marc, you know how he is, he doesn’t actually leave the office himself unless he’s sure!” Marlene pleaded with him. Marc had mostly done code translating desk work. Marc claims that’s just what he’s best at and gets more done if he hops from translation to translation rather than solving one and chasing down a lead for weeks that might go nowhere, Marlene knows it’s because of her though, he always needed to be close by to care for her.

James glanced at her hopeful eyes, he had always been bad with telling her no, taking a drink from one of the pints Tom had brought, “Alright let’s say it’s not some old witch tale, what’s he got that makes him so sure?” He said it with just a hint of a smile that let Marlene know he hadn’t truly grown out of their pirates and treasure hunting days.

Marlene was giddy, “Last week they were cleaning out old archives down in the ‘dungeon’ and I guess no one’s really cleared it out in a while but you know how it used to be an old dorm? Well between boxes and things, there was still stuff past students had left behind. So they sent all that stuff to the archives office to see if any could be displayed for ‘Hogwarts History’, kind of an invasion of past students privacy and property if you ask me-“

“Marley, focus.”

“Right, sorry, anyway I guess Marc was sorting through the stuff and he came about an old diary, like really old. And it belonged to….” She took a dramatic pause, really wanting to build it up for James “Tom. Riddle.” She waited for his reaction eyebrows raised in anticipation.

James loved seeing her getting excited about this kind of thing, she had had a rough spring semester, “You’re serious?” She gave a quick glare but for another reason, he was quick to apologize, “Sorry, but I mean Tom Riddle, you mean the guy who supposedly stole all of the treasure. I didn’t even think he was a real person..”

“Well, believe it Jamie. He’s real and his diary gave some clues as to where he hid all the treasure!” She squealed, James wasn’t sure when it happened but he had just realized she had already drained her pint, and Marley was a light weight. After finishing her excited squeal she went to start on another pint, taking big sips.

“Oi! What’s taking so long, some of us are trying to get a nice buzz before the long weekend!”

Remus was shuffling through the crowd, he always worked the graveyard shift at the library on full moons for extra cash because it was said to be haunted and nobody wanted to work it. The full moon was tomorrow night.

Marlene turned, after downing half her second pint, “Lupe!!” Throwing her arms around him.

“Hello again, Marlene, what’s taking you two so long?” he was ever so slightly holding her up, she seem just a tad off balance.

“Just talking ghosts and long lost treasure.” She stated matter of fact. At this Remus quirked an eyebrow over her shoulder to James who just gave a smile and a shrug. Grabbing the pints they could, not letting her carry any, they made their way back over to the group.

“Oh finally, you’re back, Pete passionately telling us about how they switched the detergent for the towels at Stamford” Mary said with a roll of her eyes, James had gotten Peter a job at the stadium.

The group let out a collective laugh while Peter had a blush creeping up his face, “Well I just worry the change in scent with mess with guys head, that’s all. Don’t you agree James?”

James turned at the sound of his name, previously whispering something Lily’s ear. He gave a quick shrug, “Yeah, sure I guess, really its whatever Petey”

The night continued on in much of the same fashion, by the time it was winding down James had just returned from walking Lily out, her and Mary sharing a flat just a block away. He could tell from across the bar he was going to need to walk Marley home, he would walk her anyway but she was talking wildly with her hands and leaning very close to poor Peter, who looked a little afraid of her.

“-And then I want to use it to go to Peru for a few month you know, live off the grid, no electricity, even no pluming!” She looked so excited for the prospect of having to go into a hole in the ground but Peter just stared right back at her.

“Alright Marley, let me walk you home” James said with a sigh

“Oh Jamie really, I’m fine,” She stood from her chair and rocked nearly tripping and falling flat on her face but his quick reflexes caught her.

“Oh I know but Marc would kill me if he knew a let you walk home alone besides, I basically pass it on the way to my place” Marlene knew she needed the help but she was glad he just blamed it on the Marc thing. Bidding Peter a goodbye, she wrapped an arm around James and they strolled home.

As they walked the few block home, they talked about this and that and had somehow landed on the stars. As Marlene looked up she let out a deep sigh, “I’m sorry if I ruined things. But I tried to be civil.”

James still had an arm wrapped around her shoulder and he just pulled her closer, with a quick kiss to the top of her head, he began to reassure her, “Marley, you didn’t ruin anything. He’s been a real asshole lately. And a coward, I love the guy but I’m proud of you for what you said.”

He was one Sirius Black. James’ best friend from Uni, they had been random roommates freshman year and continued to live together until the graduated, then James moved in with Remus and Sirius got his own place. Marley had met him briefly over the years when she would come home for the holidays but really didn’t know him. When she moved back a year ago and James brought her into their group she got to know him better. He was funny, and careless but she liked that about him. Marlene, working on her masters, was often stressed and uptight so it was nice that he was carefree. Nothing had ever happened between them besides a little flirting until after the past winter hols.

Marlene would go out with James early on Fridays but would often skip the later, wilder group hangs because of school. One night James had gotten her to stay out and well one thing led to another and pretty quickly her and Sirius were seeing each other. Marlene didn’t want to think too much about it with trying to finish school so she figured it would just be this fun thing to help ease stress until she finished uni but honestly things started to move fast and not because of her. Sirius was pursuing her, constantly talking about how much he liked her, talking about all the fun things they would do during summer once she finished school, he was the one who brought up being exclusive. Marlene had started to let her guard down, and then one day out of the blue, he calls her up and tells her ‘he doesn’t have time for a serious relationship right now but he hopes they can still be friends because of the group.’ Right. He wouldn’t want things to be weird for the group, he’s worried about their feelings.

Marlene was hurt by the conversation but she wasn’t going to let carefree playboy know that, she quickly told him it was no big deal they had only been going out for like a month and a half. He wouldn’t need to worry about things being weird on her end. It was a 3 minute conversation and that was it.

Honestly Marlene was more mad than sad about the situation. She decided to call him the next day, all she wanted was a simple apology for being tossed aside like nothing. So She called explained how she felt she deserved at least an apology when he was the one pursuing the relationship, he didn’t apologize. He just said “sorry for the mixed signals”. Sorry for the mixed signals? It wasn’t mixed, it was one signal and then dramatically the opposite signal. Marlene was so infuriated that that was all he had to say but she also didn’t want to cause drama in a friend group that she joined late. When he clearly wasn’t going to give her more, she said that now that was out in the open and she (kind of) said what she needed to say they could be cool, there wouldn’t be any weirdness and hung up. That whole conversation lasted 5 minutes and Marlene is pretty sure she rambled for the first 3. They hadn’t spoken since, he hadn’t gone out with group once when Marlene was there.

“Mar? Earth to Marley?” James had pulled her from her thoughts, she hadn’t even realized they had made it back to her doorstep.

“Huh, sorry I just got zoned, you were right I might have had one too many” She said with a small smile, hoping he would believe that was all it really was.

“Alright beautiful, I was just asking are you sure you don’t want me to stay the night?” James said it with a teasing smile, when Marlene was younger she was terrified of staying home alone so anytime Marc had to travel she would go stay at James’ house (she did this well into her 20’s).

Marlene rolled her eyes and gave him a shove, “Yes, you dolt. I haven’t been scared of staying home alone in like two years.”

With a ruffle of her hair and a quick hug, she was up the stairs in bed.

The next week passed by rather unceremoniously, she finished up her final studies and worked on the last of her paper. She was going to skip Friday night drinks this week because she wanted to focus on getting her paper done, besides James and Marc were planning quite the pub crawl for the Saturday following her graduation ceremony.

She hadn’t heard much from Marc, which wasn’t unusual on his trips. He had sent her a quick text letting her know that he made it to his first stop last Friday night and this morning she received a letter. Marc loved to write letters and Marlene loved to tease him about it, telling him it made him old. The letter didn’t say much, just that he thought he was on to something and the diary seemed to be leading him in the right direction. He was looking forward to her ceremony and he had talked to mom and dad, they wouldn’t be able to make it, shocker. With that small but expected disappointment she refocused on her work.

Before she knew it, it was Saturday morning. She ran down the stairs, on special occasions Marc would always bake her blueberry pancakes but when she rounded the hall into the kitchen it was empty. That’s odd. She had assumed Marc had gotten in after she went to bed.

“Marc?” She gave a quick shout but no response. Maybe he was still asleep, he did just have a two week trip so she padded up the stairs to his room but no it was also completely untouched.

Marlene had a frown on her face and pulled out her phone. It rang like it was on and charged but still went to voicemail.

“This is Marc, sorry I missed your call, I honestly don’t know how to work this thing but leave a message and Marley will show me how to listen and call back”

“Hey Marc, its Marley and its Saturday. I just wanted to touch base before the ceremony but I’m just going to assume you’ll meet me there. Remember 10 o’clock sharp. You still owe me pancakes, see you soon.” She ended the voicemail and checked the time, if she got ready now she would have time to stop at the diner on the way in and grab a muffin.

Marlene peaked around the curtain hoping to spot Marc. She was bundle of nerves, she hated this kind of thing. The only reason she was walking in this dumb ceremony was for him. As she scanned the crowd she was beginning to think that no one had shown. I mean sure, she hadn’t invited anyone because again, dumb ceremony but still felt a twinge of disappointment that she was alone.

“Samantha Mathis”

Oh shit, she was next.

“Marlene McKinnon”

Straightening her shoulders she walked out on stage. As soon as she stepped out from behind the curtain there was a loud cheer from the back left corner. She took the diploma shook hands and turned out to the crowd for her picture. Rather than looking at the camera man she zoned in on the cheering group in the back. There was James, jumping up being the loudest as usual, and the rest of their group. She smiled for the first time that day and continued of the stage. The rest of the ceremony seemed to pass quick.

Marlene was bidding Samantha goodbye when arms scooped her up from behind and twirled.

“James stop, you’re going to make her sick” Lily admonished lovingly

“Yeah besides you have to share her with the rest of us!” Mary said before lunging for hug. The whole group had come, minus two of the usual boys. Marlene hadn’t expected him to show but maybe a congratulations text at least would have been nice. James had also mentioned that Peter had some family thing come up but he said ‘congratulations’.

Marlene just laughed and said her thank you to the group. She was looking around with a frown on her face.

With a huff she turned to James, “Have you seen Marc?”

James gave her a confused look, Marc would never miss this, “No? you haven’t seen him today?”

“No, you think I should be worried?” She was biting her lip into bits.

“I’m sure he just got held up and forgot to charge his phone. You know how he is” James was doing his best to reassure her, “Look we made a reservation for lunch and maybe he’s just planning on meeting us there. If we don’t hear from him after lunch, then we’ll worry ok?”

Marlene still felt hurt that he would miss this after he made it a big deal but she gave a shrug and headed to lunch anyway. Everyone tried their best to help get Marlene’s mind on other things and she did her best to let them. About halfway through lunch she felt a buzz, she quick grabbed her phone from her bag. It was a text from Marc!

“Hey Marly, got held up. Gonna b longer than I thought. Not sure when I’ll b home. See u soon XX”

Marlene read the text again, he didn’t even mention the ceremony. Sure she hadn’t wanted them to make a big deal about it but still she worked really hard for this. She really wasn’t in the mood anymore. James had just paid the bill and the group was gathering up to go to the next place, He glanced over to see what Marley was staring at. He felt a wave of relief when he saw it was a text from Marc.

“See Marley, he’s just chasing down a treasure for you. I know it sucks he wasn’t here but he knows how excited you were about the Hogwarts treasure I bet he didn’t want to come back empty handed.” He was giving her the best encouraging face he could.

“Yeah, you’re probably right, he can be so hyper-focused sometimes. He probably doesn’t even realize what day it is.” She was trying not to show how let down she was feeling, “listen Jamie, I’m really thankful for lunch and all but I was up early this morning and the ceremony really took it out of me. I think I’m just going to head home.”

“Oh Marley are you sure? I could come with you? We could build a fort and watch a movie.” He could tell she was trying to hold it together.

“Yeah I’m sure but you go and have fun, honestly I’m probably going to go home and take a long nap.” Marlene gave James a sad smile.

Marlene really was exhausted by the time she got home. She took a quick shower and changed into her favorite lounge clothes, as soon as she hit the bed she was out like nox. When Marlene woke she glanced at the clock on her nightstand to see it read 6pm. She could believe she had slept for that long, but then her stomach growled and she knew sleeping through dinner had been a mistake. Pulling out some left over take out from the week before she sat down and decided to give Marc a call. It went straight to voicemail again. She flipped over to the text he had sent her.

“Hey Marly, got held up. Gonna b longer than I thought. Not sure when I’ll b home. See u soon XX”

It was odd but it the more she read it, the more paranoid she got. I mean “Marly” that’s not how Marc usually spelt it. And the “b” “U”, she was constantly teasing Marc about how he texted like an old man, always full sentences and proper grammar. AND he hadn’t even mentioned the ceremony. She knew she was being paranoid but she just couldn’t get it out of her head that something was wrong. Maybe it was that she was alone in this big house or the talks of ghost and pirates but by the time she had finished her orange chicken, Marlene was sure that this was not a text from Marc.

Ok, so somebody had taken Marcs phone and texted her. Now what? She was pacing around the kitchen island, her lip beginning to bleed from biting. She needed to confirm her suspicion, she decided when he didn’t answer yet another call she would try a text.

“Hey Marc! No worries on getting home, Mom happened to be passing through and decided to stay a few days. See you soon X”

Alright that would work, Marc knows him mom would never stay a few days, also she was in the Andes for the summer. Now we wait.

Her phone buzzed almost instantly, odd she thought, if he was near the phone why couldn’t he just answer her call?

“Great! Glad she can keep u company!”

Definitely not Marc. Happy she hadn’t been going crazy and making theories in her head, but also NOT Marc. Marlene quickly grabbed her things and went down to the station.

“So you’re telling me, that your brother was off to find the long lost treasures and gold of some old university and he’s been kidnapped. And you know this because he texted you the letter ‘b’ instead of the word ‘be’?”

The officer was looking at her with a unimpressed face.

Marlene gave him a sheepish smile, “Well, yes.”

“Right. Ok, do you know where your brother was going?” His voice was full of disinterest.

“Well no, not exactly. He didn’t say, just that he had a lead he wanted to check out, and he would be gone for a couple weeks” Marlene at least had the decency to look like she knew it was far-fetched.

“Ok Ma’am, he was only supposed to return yesterday so it’s likely he just got held up. If you don’t hear from him in a week, come back and I’ll see what I can do.” With that he got up and ushered her to the door.

Marlene stepped out into the rain with a disappointed frown. Fine. If he wasn’t going to take her seriously, she would just find Marc herself.

#blackinnon #sirius x marlene #treasure hunt #marlius #non magical au #modern au #my wrtitng

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halothenthehorns · 3 years

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TLTNL- THE ADVANCE GUARD

Remus gave a bleary look at the start of his chapter, he had no doubts that not a one of their questions was going to be answered, honestly he wouldn't be surprised if even more piled up, though at this point that didn't feel possible.

Harry at once wrote down three copies of the same note, telling he'd been attacked by Dementors, about to be expelled from school, and when he was getting out of here.

"I'm fairly confident you know about as much as what's going on as any of us," Sirius pointed out, "but the leaving part is relevant yes."

"I know someone knows more than they're telling me," Harry grumbled, "they always do."

He addressed them to Ron, Hermione, and Sirius.

"I thought Ron and Hermione had implied they were in the same place," Lily asked.

"Just in case," Harry shrugged, some biting words trying to creep across him about how even Sirius was in the same place as them, Harry was the only one left out.

Hedwig was not home right now, and Harry was left to pace furiously in front of the window awaiting her return. His mind still pounding as was his physical body from the night's events.

James twitched violently at all the blows Harry had gained in just one day from that place, but it was honestly of some small comfort that what Vernon had explicitly done to him wasn't a lingering pain in this moment.

Thinking was only making it worse, frustration still pouring from his every move as he kept glaring daggers at everything he passed.

Lily sighed softly as she watched that agitation reliving in her son now, he was being more twitchy from these remembered frustrations than he had when he was even in a life or death situation before. She'd wished countless times to be there for him in this future, his past, but now she wished it yet again for a new reason, to calm him and promise it would get better.

As if sensing her, their eyes met and his face smoothed for just a moment as he smiled at her, he knew.

His mind kept thinking of all the strange happenings from this one evening, and always coming back to his expulsion, and still no one was talking to him!

"Honestly though," Sirius shook his head at himself, "that really is just insulting, seeing as someone should have said something long before now anyways." Sirius couldn't shake that nasty little thought of where he was, if he was so busy still out looking for that traitor he was starting to slip on taking care of Harry. What that rat had done to his godson last year to help bring Voldemort back could have easily rekindled that fire to see him punished, but Sirius wouldn't really make the same mistake twice and drop everything to go after him, right?

His own burning question of what had just happened in that kitchen, who had that howler been from, was just as pressing to him.

Harry grumbled and rubbed at his forehead for his own mind throwing questions that hurt like the dickens now just to be asked, a name should be on the tip of his tongue.

Why was he still here, being treated like a naughty child?

James groaned on his son's behalf, he could only imagine how frustrating that would be, and told Harry, "do you know how impressive it is to me you haven't broken yet and gone there in person? You've far more restraint than I do by just pacing and grumbling."

Harry was well aware that everyone in here had tried to leave at least once by now from a snap of frustration, but Harry knew he wasn't too far off from doing the same in that moment.

He kicked his school trunk on his next pass by, but all that achieved was a sharp pain in his toe as he kept limping now.

"I think Harry's going for the Snitch and trying to receive an injury on every part of himself before the night's up," Remus grumbled.

"We should count ourselves lucky if he doesn't deck the person who arrives for him at this point," Sirius agreed.

Finally, on his next pass of the window, his snowy owl returned like a small ghost in the night.

Harry felt a sharp thwap against his mind for that description which he refused to linger on.

He snapped at once she'd taken her time, he had work for her!

"Haven't you learned by now not to take your anger out on your owl," Lily rolled her eyes at Harry, trying to remind him of Hedwig's deserved attitude last year.

"I hardly think that in the moment," Harry said sheepishly, though he hoped he wouldn't get too cross with her.

Hedwig gazed at him reproachfully over the dead frog clamped in her beak.

Harry's eyes did light with just a touch of warmth for a single moment, his owl always seemed to be more prone to bringing him back her dead catches whenever he'd had a fight with Vernon, she could just sense things about him like that.

He at once began tying the letters to her, saying she was to take these to them and peck their fingers until they started writing him good long replies.

Sirius flexed his hand in concern as he watched his pup with wide eyes, but there was pure understanding in his voice as he told, "guess I can't even blame you."

That hurt Harry worse than if he had been angry at him. He'd wanted all summer for someone to understand how upset he was, and now his godfather really seemed to, but still Harry never would have wanted him to see him like this.

Remus was honestly just confused at the Sirius in the book as well for not having done something long before now. What had happened to their Sirius who sent long, but disjointed letters like he'd been forced to stop and start it several times, the ink varying shades of dry and also full of random anythings he could cobble together to send for good news for them coupled with endless complaints of what his parents had done to annoy him this week. If Padfoot had sent him a letter like he'd been sending Harry, he'd think something was extremely wrong with his old friend. He'd tried to force himself not to linger on these changes to their friend as much as James clearly did, but some things he had problems pretending to overlook, and this was one.

Hedwig gave a muffled hooting noise, her beak still full of frog.

"Snack for the road," Sirius forced out with chipper.

The moment she was back out of sight, Harry felt guilty for being sharp with her, she was his only friend here.

Harry watched the orange owl in the corner for a moment cleaning its feathers and ruffling up its tail to the brown cat slinking along its post at the bottom. The image suddenly double layered with his own snowy white doing the same thing with Crookshanks around, and it left a soft pain in his heart he couldn't see this again in the foreseeable future. Hopefully whenever he'd come from, someone was taking care of his owl now.

but he knew he'd make it up to her when she returned the next morning with three long letters from them all. They couldn't ignore a dementor attack.

"I like to think they aren't ignoring you now," Lily still tried, her eyes still a little wider than should be as she kept trying to think of some way to get rid of this lingering anger she could still feel coming off of Harry. "It must be Ron's parents, and Dumbledore, stopping them telling you everything, which you must know would be a bad idea in letter form anyway." It didn't even make herself feel better for a moment, as letters should have ended ages ago and he should be with his friends rather than a place he detested so much.

"Right," Harry agreed without emphasis.

He'd probably wake up tomorrow to three fat letters full of sympathy and plans for his immediate removal to The Burrow.

If anything that seemed to make Harry feel worse though as he sunk deeper into his cushion, a part of him already forewarning him not to get his hopes up about that.

With some final comfort, his body sank into the bed and he finally passed out.

His owl did not return the next day though, and Harry spent the whole of it in his room only leaving for the loo. Food was supplied through the catflap by Petunia's hand.

"They didn't lock me in there again," Harry promised at once before the book could imply worse, "I just couldn't put up a farce of dealing with them when I was already in such a bad mood. With my luck I'd do more magic accidentally and blow Vernon over to Scotland."

"Honestly, at some point it'd be worth it," James grumbled, still infuriated Harry could be in a house full of people and not one of them were concerned Harry was keeping himself so isolated. It was a miracle Petunia noticed at all to feed him! How he could keep hearing this over and over and still feel that anger fresh every time couldn't be normal.

Every time Harry heard her approaching he tried to question her about the Howler, but he might as well have interrogated the doorknob for all the answers he got.

Lily still had the urge to curse the answer out of that stranger, frustrated beyond belief that they honestly might not get an answer for that as Petunia seemed to hate giving Harry a piece of bread, let alone information.

This went on for three days.

The room collectively groaned in frustration, they'd always hated hearing of time at the Dursleys, and it still somehow got worse every time. Now it was starting to feel like he wasn't getting any other options. The Burrow better have had a house fire or something for Harry not to have been invited there long ago. Even if they didn't know the extent of the problems at the Dursleys, it had been made clear they at least had suspicions, so there wasn't any excuse in their opinion for this continuing!

Harry was alternately restless, leaving him in manic pacing of his room while furiously doing nothing, and in long states of lethargy where he'd lay absently on his bed and think of nothing but that Ministry hearing with aching dread.

"You're not going to be expelled," Lily said at once with absolute confidence. "They just can't, the law's on your side, you've done nothing wrong."

Harry gave her a grateful smile as he envisioned her in that old courtroom, throwing the book at Fudge rather than himself for instigating all of this, then he blinked the vision away and wondered why that place still felt so foreboding to him. It helped that he truly did feel comforted by her words, so he let it go.

What if he was expelled and his wand was snapped? Where would he go next? He could not go back to living here all the time.

"I'd never let that happen," Sirius snarled at once. "You'd live in a cave with me and Buckbeak first." Sirius didn't exactly sound enthused at the idea, it hurt him he couldn't actually provide anything of use for his godson but company, but that didn't change his point.

Could he live with Sirius, as his godfather had once offered before he'd gone on the run from the Ministry himself.

Sirius relaxed back at once, nodding eagerly and saying, "don't know why you'd bother asking, Merlin I'm still ticked it hasn't happened already."

Harry just smiled at him, but it still felt more forced than he'd ever like. He still longed for something, anything in him to confirm this could happen one day, not this nasty ache inside.

Would Harry be allowed to live there alone, given that he was still underage?

"The Ministry does not rightly care where you live once you're no longer in school," James snorted in disgust. "You could live anywhere you wanted, even in an 'empty' house." He knew Harry wouldn't really be alone, Sirius would be there with him of course, not that anyone in the Ministry would know that.

Or would the matter be settled for him? Was his breech so bad he might be reallocated to Azkaban?

They all grumbled in furious dispute of that, but for once Remus shivered harder than Sirius at the thought. It was more because of self loathing though. Even at his lowest, Remus still never crossed Harry's mind as anything? His life kept feeling more useless the more pages that were turned, wondering what the point of his even living past James and Lily if he couldn't be of any help to anyone.

On the fourth night after Hedwig had left, Harry was in one of his apathetic phases slumped on his bed when Vernon opened the door in his best suit with a purely smug expression.

"Thank you Harry, I needed something to envision to punch," James scowled.

He informed Harry they were going out.

"And they are telling you, because?" Lily demanded.

"To rub in I wasn't going I suppose," he shrugged without care.

Harry was not to leave this room, or touch any of their possessions,

All of them still felt their lips curling in disgust as Vernon continued to treat Harry like that while he'd lived there, in the loosest term of the way.

or steal from the fridge,

"I wouldn't even want to eat that food," Sirius stated, "I'd put it in the bin for the local strays."

and Harry was going to be locked inside.

Harry emotionlessly complied with all.

James buried his face in his hands in pure frustration, both at Vernon actually doing that, and Harry's complete lack of care it being done. He had felt lethargic before, emotionally drained even, but never so much he would not kick down any door that he was locked in. He'd tried it now, even without success. What state did you have to be in to not care about this?

Vernon glared at Harry, clearly suspicious of this lack of argument,

"I really don't get that," Lily sneered, "you've honestly never been that much of a problem to them, and yet they treat you like you're constantly on the verge of burning down that house."

Harry just shrugged without comment, he always knew Vernon saw exactly what he expected to see in Harry no matter how he acted.

then stomped out and did as promised. Harry heard the key turning without care.

"He hadn't locked me in there until that point," Harry amended, making James laugh at least as Harry truly seemed to be striving not to let himself be caught in a lie to him again.

The faint noise of the house creaking around him barely penetrated Harry's stupor of misery.

"I'm fine," Harry insisted to those around him who had grown increasingly pale the longer Harry was left like this. "Sure I don't enjoy remembering how upset I was, but I promise I'm fine now."

They smiled grimly at him, but still that worry lingered of where his friends and more importantly Sirius were, why was Harry being left like this for so long?

Then, quite distinctly, he heard a crash in the kitchen below.

Harry watched those around him tense at once with concern, that fear from the first chapter of some Death Eater ambush was clearly still on their mind, but Harry had an indulgent smile in place. He couldn't think why right now, but there was absolutely no ill will towards that noise even as the ghost of adrenaline pumped through him for his reaction at the time. He didn't think he did a good job of soothing the others, as everyone still had one hand near their pocket while Remus forced himself to keep going.

Harry bolted out of his bed at once as he processed this, knowing it couldn't be the Dursley's as he'd never heard their car arrive back. Then he heard voices, and Harry thought burglars.

"While normally I'd actually enjoy the fun of that," Sirius gave a forced smile as he imagined some Muggle laughing while Sirius pulled his wand on them and then cursing whatever idiot thought he could steal their stuff, "now isn't a good time for anything to be in that place that shouldn't be."

"Anything?" Harry persisted innocently, causing all of them to take a step back and really asses that Harry was almost smiling for the first time since they'd started this book. If truly he felt no fear for this moment even as he rubbed at his temple to understand why, than that must mean that someone really had finally come for him to get him out of there.

They didn't get to bask long in their happy moment as baby Harry began crying upstairs, and Lily hopped out of James' lap to go fetch him. She came back down the stairs wiping angry tears out of his little eyes, clearly he did not appreciate having been put up so early. James quickly moved with her when he saw she was going to sit back in the other couch, an arm's reach from Harry, and the three settled comfortably there while Remus kept going.

Harry at once dismissed the idea though, as burglars would be more quiet, and those below were making plenty of noise.

"You really are quick on the uptake," Remus complemented Harry's logic.

His wand was in hand as he glared at the bedroom door thinking it over.

James still felt a spot of agitation Harry was locked in there, with no way to escape other than a two story drop, unless those bars had been put back up in his absence in which case his son was truly pinned down with no way out. Even if he wasn't in danger, that was still terrible for many different reasons.

Next moment, he jumped as the lock gave a loud click and his door swung open.*

"Did you do that?" Remus yelped, thinking Dumbledore might not be able to stop the Ministry a second time if Harry was doing more magic, even by accident.

"No," Harry said at once, he really hadn't quite gotten up to accidental magical levels.

"Then what on earth did unlock that?" James demanded with his eyes narrowed.

Harry felt something nagging at the edge of his consciousness, like he might have worked that out for himself later, but for now he just shrugged and crossed his fingers like everyone else another Ministry owl wouldn't be arriving.

Harry stood motionless, staring through the open doorway at the dark upstairs landing, straining his ears for further sounds, but none came.

That only made them start to feel edgy all over again. For a moment James had wondered if it had been the Weasley twins picking the lock on Harry's door again, but then it would have swung open to reveal them. This was blatant magic and someone hiding, not a good combination for his boy. If Harry wasn't all at ease he knew he'd be crawling out of his skin right now.

He hesitated for a moment, then moved swiftly and silently out of his room to the head of the stairs.

"More space to move," Sirius nodded absently while Harry gave him a nudge, trying to get them all to stop giving him tactical advice already.

His heart climbed into his throat with fright as he spotted at the bottom of the stairs a whole group of people staring at up at him, none recognizable in the dark.

"That's always a pleasant thing to see in the dark," Lily shivered as she pulled her baby closer into her lap. Even if every one of the Weasley's had arrived to get Harry out, which was rather odd in itself, she had no idea what was up with the surprise. Ron or someone should have thought to turn on a light by now.

A low, faintly familiar growling voice called up to Harry to lower his wand.

Harry's eyes flipped wide in surprise as he finally identified someone, "that's Professor Moody."

"I can't say that made me feel better," James jumped in surprise even as he smiled, "considering your last encounter with him."

"I guess they sent members of the Order rather than Weasley's," Sirius suddenly bounced with excitement, wondering what was taking him so long to run up the stairs and tackle his godson with a hug.

Harry's heart was thumping uncontrollably, even knowing that voice he did not lower his wand.

"You're getting more encouraging by the minute," Lily said approvingly this time, she hoped someone really was regularly taking Moody's hip flask away from him now for more than an hour. She didn't care if it sounded paranoid, she honestly wasn't sure if she could ever trust him fully again after his face had nearly murdered her son.

He called out the only title he knew Professor Moody by, but the man grumbled back he wasn't so sure of it considering he'd never gotten around to the teaching bit.

"Well he's got a point," Sirius shrugged, feeling all at ease now and still forcing himself not to take the book away from Moony to get to his reappearance already.

Remus would have honestly let him if Sirius asked, considering he was already ticked at himself for not being there, again.

Harry lowered his wand slightly but did not relax his grip on it, nor did he move.

"Something Moody would honestly be proud of," James chuckled.

He had no reason to trust Moody considering the last time he'd met him it was in fact an imposter for a whole year who'd tried to murder Harry.

"Just think for a moment if you had no idea what that meant," Lily shook her head in exasperation, "can you imagine how confusing that would be."

"Well then it's a good thing we got backstory," James rolled his eyes at her.

Before he'd come to a decision though, an even older voice from his past but far more welcome one called up to Harry it really was okay, they'd come to get him out of here.

This voice was even easier to recognize than the other as Harry yelped, "Remus!"

Remus jumped at first in confusion, then surprise as he eyed Harry, then the book like he was sure someone was lying. Then his face cracked into the widest smile in days as he demanded, "really?"

"Yep," Harry beamed.

Remus still sat there looking dumbstruck for a second before Sirius smacked him on the back, still bouncing around like he was sitting on a spring, "well I'm not surprised. Bout time Moony's made his reappearance, I'm sure you've been busy and you're dying to tell Harry what you've been up to." He seemed utterly confident of this, that Sirius himself had dragged Remus along so that the three of them could have a chat while the rest of the Order did whatever to get Harry out of there.

Harry's heart leapt even if he hadn't heard from Professor Lupin in a year, calling back to him in disbelief.

Remus was in such a good mood it was almost passable as he hid a wince. 'It's your own fault,' he mentally scolded himself, 'you haven't given him a reason to call you anything else.' Yet the contrast to Harry sitting next to him leisurely and Harry still at fifteen only calling him a title stung like he wouldn't have believed.

Next spoke up an unfamiliar woman's voice demanding why they were all still in the dark, answering her own question by lighting her wand tip.

"Is she mad!" Lily balked. "He's in trouble because he's done magic, now she's being utterly blatant."

Harry still managed an indifferent shrug as his smile kept widening at this new voice, there was something in the tone promising he liked this person.

Harry blinked in the sudden brightness to find the crowd of people below him all craning around to get a look.

Harry was in such a good mood, he hardly even rolled his eyes at being on display like this.

Remus Lupin stood nearest to him, and though still young in age, he looked even more ill and haggard since Harry had last seen him with more grey than ever in his hair and robes falling right off of him with patched shabbiness.

Remus kept reading loudly past anyone who was trying to make a comment about that.

He still managed an easy smile as he spotted Harry, while the witch holding her lit wand said Harry looked just as Remus had promised. She was clearly the youngest there,

"Explains the idiocy," Lily rolled her eyes at the idea of the Order sending some child to fetch her son.

with a heart shaped face, dark twinkling eyes, and spiky violet hair.

"Well I like her," Sirius said at once with a chuckle at that description, "any girl who can get away with that hair shade gets points with me."

Another man, black with a bald head and one golden hoop earring, agreed as well Harry did look just like James.

Sirius' face suddenly fell though as he realized he hadn't been mentioned next to Harry or Remus, which clearly meant he wasn't there at all.

Remus too realized this and turned curious eyes on him, but Sirius managed to wave the moment off, his eyes only just a bit tighter but his smile hadn't even dimmed. "Nah, probably had to do something just before this got started," he broke off without coming up with a good reason why he wouldn't come see his godson the second he could with this group, but still waved Remus on to get to that part already.

Except the eyes, those were his mother's eyes, a wheezy voiced man said in the back.

James and Lily still managed to exchange a proud smile for how their boy had turned out.

Mad-Eye Moody kept them on track by demanding of Lupin if he was sure this was Harry? Didn't want to bring an imposter back.

"Can't even blame him for that one," James frowned sadly at the thought of what his idol had been through.

Lupin asked what Harry's Patronus was, and he said a stag at once.

"That really is one of the easiest tells," James agreed fondly, a smile lighting right back up as he always enjoyed being reminded of that.

Lupin confirmed this was him, while Harry tried to tuck his wand away in his back pocket finally.

Moody at once barked not to go doing any such thing, be could blow a buttocks off.

Everyone full blown cracked up laughing at the imagery, even if they would have given the same warning.

The violet-haired girl asked who he knew had lost one?

Causing further giggles to erupt the girl had asked!

Mad-Eye snapped at her never mind that, elementary wand safety should still be followed. He began making his way towards the kitchen, but clearly his magical eye was on her as he snapped he saw her eye roll.

"Now I definitely like her," Remus chuckled in agreement with Sirius. "She's got some spunk doing that to him."

Lupin reached out and shook Harry's hand, asking how he was.

Remus rolled his eyes at himself, it had been long enough since he'd seen him.

Harry managed a stuttered fine in surprise, still unable to get over his surprise so many people were in this room as if it were a long standing arrangement.

"Maybe it was," James grumped, "and you just weren't in on it."

"That didn't make me feel better," Harry pointed out with a sigh.

He glanced at all these strangers and away, suddenly feeling self conscious he hadn't combed his hair in days.

"Not like that actually makes a difference," Lily pointed out.

He instead pointed out they were all lucky the Dursleys were out.

"Oh are they though?" Sirius leered, thinking of the timing of this.

The violet-haired woman just laughed, saying that was no luck, but her doing. She'd sent them the fake Lawn Competition invitation.

Everyone burst out laughing again, even Lily let her original ire melt a bit at the girl doing this to the Dursley's. She was already made clear she was good for a laugh, and they were all eager to find out who she was already.

Harry pictured Vernon's face when he found out he'd been duped, and prompted they were leaving soon?

"Afraid of his reaction when he comes home?" James demanded, smile dropping at once.

"It certainly wouldn't be fun to be around," Harry shrugged with indifference. He'd always been yelled at for anything going wrong, and some prank would most certainly fall under that. Still he was quick to reassure their worries he wouldn't have done much, just shouted at him to get his frustrations out. For some reason that didn't make them feel entirely better.

Lupin agreed almost at once, and Harry eagerly asked if they were going to The Burrow? He was denied, while being moved towards the kitchen and the gaggle all still followed watching him like a show.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," Lily sneered, she'd always hated people eyeballing her son, and these were supposed to be adults!

Lupin explained that the Burrow was too risky, and they'd set up Headquarters somewhere else. It had taken them awhile to get it all together.

"Is that why I haven't been out of there before now?" Harry asked, thinking that really could have been put in a letter to at least appease him.

"Don't know," Sirius shrugged, "we move our headquarters all the time to stay undetected, but those places are usually flimsy at best and even more a meeting place than an outright Headquarters."

"Sounds like the Order got an upgrade," James agreed, a funny feeling buzzing in him he wasn't, would never be again, apart of it.

Mad-Eye was already at the table sipping from his hip flask,

Lily had to fight the urge to demand someone take that away from him.

his magical eye keeping track of everything in his surroundings.

"I wonder how far away that thing can see," James asked as he pictured the sky above him and all the stars.

"I never asked," Harry answered.

"I'd imagine not too great a distance," Lily shrugged, "but who knows, maybe he can see all the way to Australia."

Lupin introduced Harry to him as Alastor Moody.

"Do I not know you've met?" Remus demanded, already feeling a rising sense of anger at every little thing he did.

"Don't know," Harry shrugged as he didn't seem too concerned with it.

Sirius had to work hard for a moment before saying, "I'm sure I've kept you up to speed, with everything I know at least. You're probably just going to introduce everyone, just for clarification to him." Then for a split second, Sirius wasn't even sure if that was true. He'd claimed to have forgiven Remus in the Shrieking Shack, but not once afterwards had Sirius made mention of his oldest, and now only friend. Had he really forgiven Remus? He viciously kicked the thought away to not be lingered on. Didn't matter, he was still his Moony now.

Harry uneasily said he was aware, it was strange to be introduced to someone you'd thought you'd known for a year.

"That is fair," James agreed absently as he watched the two, clearly something was bubbling between them, and while James got Remus' problem, he wasn't sure what was suddenly bothering Sirius.

Then he turned to introduce Nymphadora

Sirius was instantly distracted by something snatching at his mind before he yelped, "oh," in surprise.

"You know her?" Lily demanded.

"I think my cousin Andromeda has a daughter she named Nymphadora. We keep in loose contact since she's the only living member of my family I can stand." Sirius offered with a look of concentration. "Hold on, what's her surname?" He directed at Remus in hopes he'd finish. True it wasn't exactly a common name, but he'd still rather be sure.

but the violet-haired girl corrected at once it was just Tonks!

While Remus finished with a smile that she preferred to go by her surname only.

"Yeah, Tonks, that's right, that's the Muggle-born she married named Ted's surname. She sent me a letter about it when the little bloom was born, but that was already what, two, almost three years ago now. Kept meaning to go around and visit her, you keep saying you want Harry to meet more kids his age." He finished with a triumphant little smile that wavered just a bit as he added, "glory, she's as grown up as Harry and I never even meet her."

Remus' frown turned sharp as he turned on Sirius, fixing to tell him off that wasn't happening and he could go see her whenever he wanted, but James cut in with a lighter joke instead. "Well Remus is clearly still some fun, he could have introduced her the way she wanted, but oh no, he just went for the full name, clearly to annoy her."

Remus chuckled but didn't deny he could see himself picking on her already if she'd return in kind which seemed obvious.

Harry had an odd smile in place as he watched Remus for a moment, one that Lily thought she'd seen when he heard of Ron and Hermione's argument back during the Yule Ball. Harry could feel it in his mind, like two bits of metal being struck together and waiting for something to spark, but the memory refused to solidify any further and he mostly ignored it for now.

Tonks grumbled back so would he if he'd been named Nymphadora.

Sirius started snickering at the idea of this girl, it was clear she'd inherited her mother's spirit already, he knew he was going to like her.

Lupin moved onto the black wizard named Kingsley Shacklebolt, then the wheezy-voiced man Elphias Doge.

Harry blinked curiously at the name, sure for just a moment he might know him more than just a passing person like his mind was telling him. Something about Dumbledore...

Dedalus Diggle, who eagerly interrupted they'd met before while dropping his hat in excitement.

"Squealing every time you meet him isn't technically meeting him," Lily rolled her eyes even as she did smile a bit, she'd always liked him and he always asked to hold her son at least once every time they met.

Then Emmeline Vance,

Lily actually whooped with excitement to hear she'd lived long enough to see her niece be born, a topic she wouldn't stop discussing when they met up.

Sturgis Podmore,

James felt himself sitting back in relief as well, Sturgis had been in an undercover mission for the past two weeks and hadn't been at his last check in, they were already starting to wonder if he was another lost soul. Clearly he would make it back though.

and Hestia Jones.

Harry nodded awkwardly to every person who'd been introduced.

They were equal amounts as surprised as they were pleased that they only didn't know three names, Kingsley, Hestia, and Tonks. It was a good thing they supposed, that Dumbledore still had so many trustworthy people, but something about it seemed blackened as they heard these names. That Lily and James couldn't be a part of this, nor so many others. They'd heard of so many deaths and disturbing things happening to the ranks, and now they knew the source of who was behind it for those dwindling numbers, and it hurt.

Harry wished they'd look away from him, he was starting to feel like he was on stage.

Remus quietly told him that a surprising number of people had volunteered to come here and get him, his mouth twitching slightly.

"You already have that look written all over your face," Remus had that same twitching mouth now, Harry noticed, giving him the odd impression of seeing double again at the man in the room double layered with him fourteen years older and much more weathered. Still, it was honestly fun for him to see the Professor he knew acting like someone he had been seeing as an Uncle lately act the same.

Moody said the more the merrier, they needed this large guard for Potter.

Lupin told Harry they were just waiting for an all clear signal before they took off.

"Honestly, I think I prefer him calling you that," James said conversationally, as Remus still twitched uneasily every time he realized Harry was going to keep calling him by his last name only. "Makes it a tad less confusing than you referring to yourself."

"Sirius gets through it just fine," he muttered petulantly while reading even louder over Harry trying to say something. Either apologize or something else, Remus found it his own fault Harry was doing it so his problem to deal with.

Tonks interrupted by pointing out how clean these Muggles were. Her dad was Muggle-born, and he was a slob. Then she decided herself it must vary per Muggle just like wizards.

"She clearly hasn't met many Muggles then to not have realized that," Lily said a bit grimly as she still hated the idea of that house. To shake that off she directed at Sirius, "you should bring Andromeda around Sirius, if you like her so much."

"I keep meaning to bridge the gap," Sirius shrugged, "but I just keep forgetting and then getting busy. I know you want Harry to be around more kids though, so I promise I'll get on it," 'if we ever get out of here,' he finished mentally but it went unsaid.

Harry half heartedly agreed, then turned back to Lupin to keep asking him what had been going on and why he hadn't heard anything from anyone,

Lily snorted in surprise even as her maternal voice didn't quite kick into the scolding, "bit rude to dismiss her?" She couldn't even blame him though, she'd be a bit short with someone gaping at her as well, but at least this Tonks was trying to make conversation.

"He's kind of the only one I trust at the moment, and finally someone to talk to," Harry shrugged, at least seeming to make Remus better for just a second.

what was Vold- but several people hissed at him to such up and Moody outright said it.

"They all hate hearing the name that much huh?" Harry chuckled at what he saw as an overreaction.

"I think they're just being a little paranoid," Remus shrugged, "we don't usually discuss those types of things in places we consider unsafe, it's not out of the range of possibilities we could be watched."

Harry demanded what the problem was and Moody snapped it was too risky to be discussing that here. His eye even stayed trained on the ceiling.

"Are you going to get that smirk every time you say something that turns out to be true," Sirius rolled his eyes at Remus who kept flipping back and forth so much lately he was giving them a coronary. Moony was known to be moody even a few days after a full moon but this was getting ridiculous.

"Have I ever not?" Remus asked innocently enough.

Then it turned out the eye was just stuck in that position, it had been doing so ever since that scum wore it.

"Thank you for the reminder," Lily squished up her face in disgust at the idea.

With a popping noise like removing a plunger, he popped the eye right out of the socket.

Which turned into a full blown grimace of disgust while the boys honestly looked intrigued at the idea.

Tonks told him conversationally how disgusting that was.

"My sentiments," Lily shook her head while Remus snickered at someone saying that to Moody's face.

Moody ignored her and asked Harry to fetch him a glass of water, which he did with all eyes still on him, which was starting to annoy him.

"Past that," the others muttered, not even blaming Harry if he snapped and told them to knock it off soon.

Harry handed over the glass and Moody plopped the eye right into it.

"Can he see out of that when it's not in his head?" Sirius requested.

"Never asked," Harry shrugged, again. He was always far too afraid of Moody to ask him for anything, and that detail had hardly changed after the near murder experience.

"I'd imagine no," Lily pointed out, "the magic would have to be attached to something for him to be able to see out of it, not strictly attached to the nerve."

"More importantly," James' grin had turned scary, "please tell me you don't bother putting that up before you leave, I want to hear that one of the Dursleys took a drink out of it."

"I don't stick around to find out," Harry chuckled, having no clear memory of doing anything with it after this, so maybe James got his wish.

Harry asked how they were getting wherever they were going, and Lupin told they were going to fly, couldn't use any other magical means or the Ministry would know about it.

Harry got a bad feeling at the idea, of a group of Wizards traveling with him from the Dursley's house including Remus, Tonks, Moody- his brain suddenly fizzled out and he just settled for reassuring his mum that everything would be fine even if he didn't feel it at the moment.

Kingsley told that Lupin mentioned Harry was a good flier.

"Well someone's been bragging," James chuckled.

"I'm sure I'd never exaggerate," Remus grinned.

Lupin agreed with himself that Harry was excellent, then asked if Harry's trunk was all packed? They needed to leave as soon as they saw the signal.

"Then someone should have sent him a letter for warning," Sirius rolled his eyes at himself, thinking he definitely could have phrased that to give Harry some forewarning, and still annoyed at himself for not being there.

Tonks quickly offered to help him, following him out and still chatting about how this place was just too clean, it felt unnatural.

"It's not a home unless it's lived in," Lily smiled in agreement, eyeing some of the baby things she had scattered around and a few heavy treads in the carpet that had honestly been there before these readings, the boys had just made them more obvious.

Then they entered Harry's room and she proclaimed this was much more normal.

Harry didn't agree, as he'd been confined to it for days in a foul mood, so most of his stuff was scattered everywhere.

Tonks wasn't really paying the clothes much mind though, she'd spotted the mirror in Harry's room and was examining her violet hair, asking if it made her look peaky?

"There is no correct answer for that," Sirius said at once while James rolled his eyes and corrected, "you tell her she looks nice and then take the fallout even if she disagrees."

Lily pouted at him, fixing to protest she never told him off when he did that for her, but Remus was ignoring the lot of them.

Harry just erred in response, while Tonks agreed with herself it did indeed.

"Ha!" Sirius barked while James rolled his eyes.

She closed her eyes, screwed up her face like she was trying to remember something, and before Harry's eyes her hair turned bright pink.

"Wow," all five of them uttered in surprise, though for two different reason.

"How did she do that?" Harry yelped in surprise at the same time Remus said, "you didn't say she was a metamorphmagus."

"I didn't know," Sirius had a full blown smirk in place, "guess Andromeda was saving it as a surprise till I came to see the little nymph in person. Guess that got spoiled."

"What is it?" Harry persisted curiously.

"A born magical ability, to change your appearance at will," James explained. "Very, very rare, only passed down through magical bloodlines and often skips a few of those."

"I bet Cygnus and Druella are pissed," Sirius had a nasty smile in place as he imagined their faces. "They disowned Dromeda when she married Ted the muggle-born, now their granddaughter's got this rare gift they can't even claim credit for."

Harry was fascinated by the idea, though there was something trying to snatch up his attention in the back of his mind as his eyes casually flickered to Remus, then his own infant self in a redhead's arms- his brain felt like it had been sucker punched already and was thankful Remus was moving on.

Harry gaped in shock how she'd done that!

Tonks explained she was a Metamorphmagus, a person who could change their appearance at will. She'd made top marks in her Concealment and Disguise training becoming an Auror, hadn't even needed to study.

"I think I'm falling in love with this one," Remus said dramatically as he outright laughed now. "Glory Sirius, she's reminding me of a female version of you."

"Keep dreaming Moony," Sirius rolled his eyes even while he smiled proudly at that little toddler growing up to do something so spectacular.

His parents and Harry snickered at the pair, Harry hardest of all.

Harry was even more impressed now, an Auror was the only career he'd ever considered.

Tonks agreed with chipper, pointing out Kingsley was one as well, but more high ranked than her, she'd only just made her final qualifications a year ago. She'd nearly failed because of the Stealth and Tracking part, she was dead clumsy. Had he heard her break that plate when they'd first come in?

"Adds to her personality," James grinned, he'd applaud the girl in person for wrecking anything of the Dursleys.

Harry asked if being a Metamorphmagus could be learned? He'd picked up a shoe to throw in his trunk which had been dangling in his hand this whole time, he'd already forgotten about packing.

"This is certainly distracting enough," Lily smiled sadly for her boy, "but no, it's not something you learn, everybody else still has to use potions and magic to change their appearance."

Tonks chuckled at the question, asking if he'd use it to hide that scar? Her eyes found the fringe of Harry's hair, and the mark beneath it.

"Least she took longer than most," Harry sighed as he flattened his bangs.

Harry mumbled an agreement as he turned away.

Tonks explained he'd have to conceal himself the hard way, Metamorphmagus are born, not made. Then she seemed to realize she'd distracted him and that they had to get going, gazing around at the still messy room.

"Look at you distracting her," Sirius grinned at his little pup already swooning the ladies.

Harry rolled his eyes at the tone.

Harry tried to go back to it at once, but Tonks waved him off, saying it would be faster if she did. She waved her wand, and everything began soaring into the air at once.

Lily couldn't help frowning again though, there she was again using magic at her discretion with no regards to being in that Muggle house and Harry being in a heap of trouble. She hoped he offered a really good explanation when he remembered it.

Books, clothes, telescope and scales all soared pell-mell into the trunk.

Harry raised an impressed brow as he said, "now why hasn't that spell been taught already?" He may not have ever been allowed to use it at his house, but it would have made packing at the Weasley's better.

"Some spells they actually don't teach you during school," Lily shrugged, "that's a widely used charm that just passed from word of mouth. Molly's probably never done it for you because she's clearly the kind who thinks it's good of you not to get spoiled."

Tonks frowned at the jumble now inside, stating it wasn't that neat. Her mother could do it in a way that folded the socks.

"I think that's just a mother's gift," James grinned in agreement, "Lily's always been nifty at Charms so it didn't surprise me she does that, but my mum's the same way."

She gave her wand another hopeful flick, but a sock on top merely flopped over.

Causing more giggles and Lily an affectionate, "oh well, I'm sure she'll get there."

Tonks shrugged without caring as she closed the lid, then looked up astounded as Harry had pulled out his broom and she exclaimed that was a Firebolt!

Sirius' grin turned pompous at once. The treasured object hadn't even been used in Harry's last year except for one time Sirius would have rather done without hearing. At least now it was earning some more proper attention.

Her eyes fell on Harry's pride a joy, a gift from Sirius, an international broomstick.

"I'm going to take a pin to your head," Lily threatened Sirius, more for James's benefit than anything as she caught him rolling his eyes over something he'd normally be squealing and agreeing with.

Sirius just stuck his tongue out at her without further comment.

She groaned with envy her own model was only a Comet Two Sixty. She forced herself to derail though, saying if they were all done and he still had both buttocks?

Harry theatrically wiggled his butt in his seat while the others around him giggled at the reminder of that.

She then magicked the trunk into the air and floated it down the stairs for them.

Back in the kitchen, Moody had popped his eye back in which was whizzing in socket sickeningly, and most of the others were going through the drawers curiously and pulling out random appliances, like a potato peeler, in confusion.

The potato peeler at least James recognized as his wife owned one, she was prone to cook like a muggle even still and he found it fascinating to watch. He had no clue as to a microwave though, and was more than interested at Lily's quick whispered response.

Lupin was sealing a letter addressed to the Dursleys.

"That had better explode in someone's face with lasting damage, or I am officially taking away your Marauders card," Sirius declared.

Remus contemplated pushing his friend off his seat in hopes he'd hit his head and knock some sense into him, but this had never worked in the past, so he elected to ignore him instead.

He caught sight of them reentering and explained they'd be leaving any minute now, and that he'd written a letter to Harry's relatives telling them not to worry,

"They won't," Harry rolled his eyes at the same time Remus finished sadly.

while Harry inserted they wouldn't.

Remus wished he could laugh like Harry did, he just couldn't bring himself to find that funny because it was true.

Lupin ignored the insert and continued that he was safe,

which Harry still interrupted to say that would depress them,

"No, I mean it, ask about this," Lily huffed under her breath, long since giving up the hope anyone would, but unable to stop the words coming.

Remus winced in annoyance because he agreed with her, he wished he didn't think this was a joke.

and that Harry would see them next summer, to which Harry demanded if he had to?

Lupin smiled but made no answer.

"I think I had a Padfoot flashback," Remus told those around him as he gazed down at his depressing response. "Sirius made that comment all the time before he got off the train."

"Yeah, I suppose," James grumbled, still wanting to whack Remus over the head for taking it as a joke instead of really asking what Harry meant. Sirius had never meant it as a joke either though, and they'd never badgered him for details until far too late either.

Moody interrupted by pulling Harry aside to Disillusion him. Lupin had told that Harry had an Invisibility Cloak.

"Wouldn't he know about that anyways?" James asked in surprise. "If I left it to Dumbledore, surely the whole Order will be using it here soon."

"Maybe Dumbledore never told where he got it from," Lily shrugged.

but that wouldn't stay on while they were in flight.

He cracked his wand over Harry's head, and then there was the odd sensation of an egg trickling from his crown. When he looked at himself again, he'd turned into a chameleon.

"That's so cool," Harry's eyes lit up childishly pleased at the idea of this.

"Not as cool as the cloak," James swiftly reminded, "it wears off, and it's still easy enough to detect someone under that if you're looking."

"Quit being all paranoid over there dad," Sirius pouted at him, "let the kid enjoy the moment."

Then they stepped out into the night, pulling brooms that had been hidden away as Moody explained that Harry was to be tailing Tonks, Lupin would cover his rear, and everyone else would be circling him the whole time. If someone was killed-

Harry suddenly flashed concerned eyes to Remus, who just chuckled as he kept going while Sirius told Harry Moody was just exaggerating, if Death Eaters hadn't attacked yet it should be fine.

Harry interrupted to ask if that was likely?

Moody ignored him,

"Well he's just a right comfort," James snorted even as he did watch Remus just a little more closely.

continuing with his instructions that everyone was to keep flying and not to break ranks. If his whole guard is taken out, then Harry should keep flying east and there was a standby to meet up with him.

Harry opened and closed his mouth a few times as he had no clue how he was supposed to respond to that, let alone point out he had no clue which direction was east.

Tonks told him to stop being so cheerful, he'd think they weren't taking this seriously.

"But I sure hope they're taking you to see me," Sirius cackled while everyone else was still giggling over Tonks' comment, so Sirius got to delude himself for a moment everyone was laughing at his wit.

Moody growled back he was just telling the boy the whole plan, it was their job to deliver him to Headquarters safely and if they died,

"I really wish he'd stop mentioning that though," Harry murmured, not particularly comforted that Mad-Eye saying this put him ill at ease for this plan, but he was having a problem looking around the room and not meeting anyone's eye. He was being ridiculous of course though.

Kingsley cut in this time to say no one was going to die.

Lupin ignored all of them and told to start mounting brooms as red sparks could be seen far off in the distance.

"Moody wasn't kidding about that second group," James raised a curious brow at the complexity of this plan, though he was still convinced it wasn't all necessary, there would be no attack, Harry and Remus and everyone was going to be fine. Voldemort wouldn't be stupid enough to attack Harry up in the air like that surrounded by so many people, he clearly preferred sneak attacks and getting Harry alone so his son and friend would be safe.

Harry recognized wand sparks when he saw them as he swung his leg over. His broom began vibrating slightly, as if just as keen to be in the air as him.

"Brooms have been known to develop a bit of a personality as well as any magical object," Lily agreed with a small smile for Harry's suddenly beaming face he was finally being free of that place.

At the second signal, green sparks, they all took off, and Harry could feel every problem he'd had flying away as surely as he was.

Harry could finally feel some of the tension leaving his body as he relaxed back into his seat since this book had started. The memory of flying left him aching to go try it now, and he clearly wasn't the only one both finally grinning in relief from the release of that place and a want of their own.

The air in his face, the steady feel of the broom beneath him, Harry was finally living his fantasy as Privet Drive shrunk beneath him and he flew to the stars.

Remus had never been much of a flier, but even he was starting to feel restless and wanting to go have some fun out in the air now. He'd had to learn while he'd stayed a few times at the Potters, James would have nothing less, and he was suddenly more grateful than he ever had been before for those lessons.

Moody broke Harry's bliss by barking to make a hard left, someone was looking!

Harry quickly followed Tonks, and his creaking trunk beneath her, as they passed over a motorway. Cars were passing below them, and the Dursleys were likely to be in one of those, still angry over their failed win of a lawn, and Harry laughed at the thought.

Everyone else was already doing the same, all of their fears even temporarily being lifted felt like a haven at the thought of Harry finally enjoying himself.

He had not felt this alive in a month, or this happy.

Lily smiled warmly as she wrapped a blanket around her little Hare Bare for just a moment, more than happy he was away from that place that caused him so much misery, but wishing he'd put a jacket on first.

Moody continued giving instructions of directions they should be heading, and at one point even told them to start climbing to pass through a cloud for better cover.

"He really wants to pass through a cloud at that altitude?" Remus arched a brow and shivered at the thought.

"Here's hoping Tonks isn't the only one who'll tell him what she thinks," Sirius agreed.

Tonks bellowed for all to hear how mad Mad-Eye was.

"Or she can still do it," James chuckled.

Harry was starting to agree as he shivered on his broom, his hands were going numb. He wished he'd thought to put on a jacket.

Harry saw his mum twitch at the thought, so he gave an exaggerated stretch and nestled into his cushion with content, causing her to smile again.

Conditions only got worse the longer they flew, Harry hadn't been this cold since his Quidditch match in third year against Hufflepuff during a storm.

"Thanks, I really wanted to be reminded of that," James shivered, he hadn't thought he could feel lower than that time had caused him.

His guard around him weren't letting the weather be a distraction, always keeping in a circle around him as they kept going, at least for over an hour.

"How far away is this headquarters?" Sirius muttered, trying to map out in his head how fast Harry could go on a broom and the directions they'd been given.

Harry was beginning to wish longingly for Floo travel.

"Thought that was one of your least favorite ones," James kept things light by giving his glasses a nudge in reminder.

"You'll want the thing you don't have at the time when you're dealing with the bad," Remus reminded without looking up, causing James to roll his eyes at him.

It wasn't always comfortable shooting through magical chimneys, but at least the flames kept him warm.

Circling around Harry like giant birds, Kingsley, then Emmeline, then Sturgis were all randomly at Harry's right every time he glanced over with wands raised.

Lily still couldn't help an uneasy twitch as she realized how on guard they all were, a good thing for sure, but still worried at the necessity of so many coming to get Harry. Was there really a danger, or had Remus really just been playing off the moment?

Moody suggested they should double back for a bit before landing, but Tonks hollered at him for being mad! Everyone was frozen to their brooms!

"I really hope you get to know her quite well while you're hanging around the Order," Sirius' grin kept widening when he heard this. "I can already tell she's going to be fun to have around."

"Anyone who can holler at Moody like that will be of high entertainment," Remus agreed.

Lupin called from behind for Harry to keep on Tonks' tail as they descended.

Harry followed her down into a large patchwork of lights which quickly grew into neighborhoods, while Harry wondered if someone would have to unfreeze him from his broom.

"Don't worry, there's a charm for that," but Lily grinned in a way Harry honestly wasn't sure if she was kidding that time.

When they finally did land, Harry found himself in a dilapidated neighborhood that was all grimy bricks with trash heaped on the walkways and the streetlamps burnt out.

Sirius may have been trying to follow Moody's directions, but he still wasn't sure if he was picking the right area Harry was in, as Moody could have been going some roundabout way and Harry may not have even caught it all. The curiosity was high all around of where this new headquarters was, wondering if it was so good they could suggest it to the Order now with one glaring exception.

Harry asked where they were, but Lupin promised they'd explain in a minute.

Moody was fumbling around in his cloak with numb fingers before finally pulling out a silver cigarette lighter and clicking it, where one of the few remaining lights went out.

"Look, Dumbledore's thing is back," James beamed.

"Here's hoping we'll get a better explanation of it," Sirius agreed, he still wanted to know how to get his hands on one.

Moody continued clicking it until they were in total darkness, and all Harry could smell was the pungent odor of trash and some far off base thumping.

"This place sounds like a dump," Sirius smirked as James finished for him, "perfect cover."

Then Moody thrust a piece of paper into Harry's hands and lit his wand tip, telling Harry to memorize this, quickly.

"Err," they all muttered in confusion at something so random happening just as Harry got there.

Harry looked down at the piece of paper. The narrow handwriting was vaguely familiar.

"Familiar from where?" Remus asked.

Harry had to think hard for a moment, he'd recognized it at the time but hadn't thought much of it, but now his eyes blinked as he grasped, "it was the same writing that had first given me my cloak. That's Dumbledore's handwriting."

Lily frowned in confusion of why Harry was being passed a message from him now right as they were about to enter and more likely see the man.

It said, ′ The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London.′

Sirius at first laughed. Then he did a double take as he realized Remus wasn't joining in, then he turned popping eyes to James who held the same look of shock confirming he had heard that right! Then a million things toppled through him so fast he hadn't a second to process a thing as Harry asked, "what?"

"My brother's dead," Sirius answered simply, gazing at nothing.

HPHPHPHP

* All the moments where magic was blatantly used always bothered me, it's just never explained and it annoys me. I'll explain it in the next chapter and say how that plot hole could have been fixed, just thought I'd let you guys know now.

#Harry Potter #fanfiction #reading the books #The Life That Never Lived #HP #Ootp #Marauders #jilly #James Potter #Remus Lupin #Sirius black #Lily Potter

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dopescotlandwarrior · 4 years

Text

Beauty Chooses II-Chapter 12

A special thanks to @statell for all your help. Best beta ever.

Previous chapters at AO3

Chapter 12 A Deal With The Devil

An exhausting two days it was, high in the mountains above River Run. I missed Faith terribly feeling almost hysterical in my need to see her. When Jamie called us to load up, I was filled with relief and a full dose of ants in my pants. As we ambled down the mountain, I sighed a lot and flopped around on the seat shared with Jamie. I could tell he was getting annoyed but could do little to curb my constant movement.

“Murtagh, I’d be grateful if ye gave Claire a turn on the horse before she throws herself over in a restless fit.”

I smiled when Murtagh pulled alongside the wagon and I almost leaped on the horse in my joy to stretch my legs. As the wagon moved again, I trotted circles around it, smiling at the men before pushing the horse to canter a bit. I heard Jamie yelling for me to come back and slowed to a walk before turning around.

I couldn’t have been more surprised when two men flanked me out of nowhere. One of them covered my mouth with his fat hand and pulled me onto his saddle. I was thrashing hard enough to almost get away when he pressed me painfully into his lap and ceased any more movement. I heard the wagon come around the bend quickly and suddenly stop. I glanced at Jamie who stared wide-eyed at the two men, his rifle raised, and his eyes darted around them looking for more I expect.

“Please! We mean no harm to ye, we’re just passing through on our way back to the valley. I’ll thank ye to take yer hands off of my wife.”

The man looked at the two guns trained on his head and shoved me off his lap, quite unceremoniously. That is when I noticed the men were naked to the waist, wore long hair in a braid, and painted their faces. I was terrified looking at what I assumed were savages as stories of their raiding and killing came back to my memory. Before Jamie could utter another word, the men turned their ponies and galloped away.

Jamie pulled me into his arms asking if I was alright. I was so sick of my tears but felt them, once again, leaving evidence of my fright. He kept me close to him in the wagon while Murtagh caught the horse. I was not such a wiggle-worm for the rest of the trip and felt deep relief seeing River Run in the distance. I just wanted my arms around Faith for the rest of the night and tried to turn off my warring emotions as we passed more than a dozen slave shacks.

Jamie spent several hours downstairs with his aunt and I was grateful for the tray of soup and bread I could share with Misses Crook, Glavia, and Faith. The four of us relaxed around the food and spoke of the crazy road we had traveled to end up here again in this century. I was proud of Misses Crook and Glavia for their honest recounting of facts and how easily they had assimilated this truth. I warned them against sharing this information with anyone else and they both nodded their heads vigorously.

Little Faith grew sleepy from all the attention and lifted her arms to me. I put her to bed and we all disbanded for the evening to our separate rooms. I laid in the dark and tried to imagine our lives as we built our home and community so high above the plantation. How long would it take to have a door that locked, or feel safe against the woods, the cold, and the hunger? I wasn’t afraid, just curious, and maybe anxious to be a part of a thriving highlander community where Jamie would once again preside over the happiness and welfare of the people who depended on him. I felt my smile as I drifted off.

It was several days later when Jamie came back from seeing people in town that I finally saw a glimmer of hope and happiness in his face. I felt my stomach tighten, knowing he had secured some kind of agreement for the land. I could hardly make it through dinner, with Jocasta’s numerous guests, before I lifted my skirts and ran up to our bedroom to prepare for bed. I paced our room, straining to hear Jamie’s boots on the stairs and when the door opened, I almost jumped out of my skin.

“My darling Sassenach,” he cooed, “what has ye jumpin so?”

He looked dashing, confident, gloriously handsome in his dinner finery, and I felt my knees go weak from the sight of him. I watched him drop his sword and dirk on the table and remove his coat as he approached me. I was helpless to do anything but stare at his face, his lips, his broad shoulders while I clung to the bedpost. I surrendered to my wanton desire of him, my inability to think beyond this room, and kissing him, licking his skin, watching his eyes devour me eclipsed all else in my mind.

It would be another twenty-four hours before I finally asked about the land and then I stopped talking to Jamie altogether, or even looking at him, while my ire steeped. The deal he made for the land, the price for his soul in this endeavor was unacceptable. He had agreed to an officer’s position in the British army. The same army that drove us out of Scotland, killed thousands of Highlanders and banned our way of life, now had Jamie’s pledge of fealty. I believed he would unwind the deal when faced with my incredible unhappiness and waited for him to do just that.

Jamie made many attempts to talk to me only to see my back before I slipped into bed to sob into my pillow. After three days of silence between us I couldn’t take the brutal fear and unhappiness anymore. I was spent from tears, from fear, and from the disconnection to my husband. I felt like a walking ghost just passing time until we left for the great adventure I had come to dread. When Jamie reached for me the fourth night, he wrapped himself around me and spoke into my ear when I wouldn’t turn toward him.

“Sassenach, please talk to me lass. This is the only way to secure the land we want and need. I swore my service to the British knowin the war is still twenty years in the future. We both know this land faces challenges from Indians and the corrupt local justice, and I can deal with that. Why do ye doubt me to such an extent? I must know before my heart breaks completely.”

The betrayal I felt from Jamie’s agreement would not allow me to feel forgiveness, understanding, or even love. My insides felt as cold as ice and I blocked out his words and steeled myself against his pleading. I said not a word and waited to hear him breathing deep in sleep. I cried again until I was completely spent and fell asleep as the gray light of dawn was seeping into our room. When I woke up, Jamie and Murtagh were gone.

Jocasta bent over backward to make me feel comfortable and filled the house with interesting people and lavish dinner parties. I thanked her for each favor of dresses and introductions but inside I felt dead like I would never wake from this nightmare. Jamie had abandoned me rather than rescind his promise to the British. There was no coming back from that, especially in his absence. His priority was absolute, and Faith and I would have to find a place in his ambition or be forgotten I feared.

On three occasions, a traveler arrived at the plantation with a letter from Jamie. My heart rammed in my chest as I held it in my hands and the paper shook violently as I tried to read it. He poured his soul out with his words and begged me to forgive him for this deal. He explained the progress made on the house and the setbacks from skirmishes with the Indians and the local militia who were victimizing the settlers. My eyes glazed over reading about the events with other people feeling even more abandoned. The third letter was mostly about the challenges he faced, alone, without me. There were two brief lines about his love for me, and that was it. My tears flowed down my cheeks and I let the letter drop to the floor. It was obvious he had left us behind to pursue his dream of a Highland community on the mountain. I felt the tearing of my soul away from him and it physically hurt, like I had been cut with a knife.

Misses Crook gasped at the sight of me when she finally opened my door the next day. My eyelids were almost swollen shut from crying and I looked at her from bloodshot eyes. She rushed to my side and held me like a mother would, rocking and telling me all would be resolved.

“I’m taking Faith back to my century Misses Crook. I will take you and Glavia if you want to go.”

She was silent for a few minutes, “of course I will go with ye mistress, yer my charge and I will see ye safe. Glavia will come too I’m sure. It may be strange, that place in the future, but it was a happy home when we were there. Are ye sure the Laird isna comin back for ye?”

“I’m sure.”

Saying those two words turned my heart to stone and I was filled with the resolve to leave this wretched place. I stood up and started searching my drawers for the blue stones and started to panic until I heard the stones rumble in the drawer I pulled open. I grabbed the sack and we left to find Glavia and Faith.

I read Jamie’s letter over and over through the day, hoping to find something I missed, a promise to come for me, a lonely heart wanting to reconnect, but I found nothing. I sat with Jocasta and told her my heart was broken because Jamie didn’t want to find his way back to me. He was high in the mountain building his dream, so I was moving on. Jocasta was terribly worried, but I assured her we were going to a safe place. I couldn’t answer her questions so I broke away promising to continue the conversation at dinner, knowing we would be long gone by then.

In the late afternoon, while Jocasta was napping, Misses Crook, Glavia, Faith, and I gathered behind a barn and linked our arms together holding Faith tightly between us. I looked up at the mountain and tried to feel Jamie before I closed my eyes and concentrated on Lallybroch in 2019.

I felt the earth under my feet and opened my eyes to Lallybroch, pushing the women toward the house as we were very conspicuous in our long dresses and corsets. I felt the key above the window and opened the house to our sanctuary. I ran upstairs finding all my clothes still in the chest of drawers and knew Joe had not moved anything after our departure. I quickly changed into other clothes and pulled a sweater on against the chill. I felt cold on the inside as well as the outside and wondered if any amount of layers would help.

A neighbor’s boy walked out of the barn and I knew he had come to feed the horses. I ran outside and told him I would take over feeding from now on. He shrugged his shoulders and said okay before heading home. Donus lifted his head and whinnied when I entered the barn. He seemed to be looking behind me, looking for Jamie no doubt.

“We must both forget him Donus. We don’t belong to him anymore.”

Making the lonely walk from the barn I noticed Misses Crook inspecting the garden and pulling the weeds that had taken hold. Glavia and Faith were outside singing her favorite nursery rhymes. The three of them looked happy and relaxed with no sign we had just jumped almost three centuries to the other side of the world. I guess only I felt wasted, tired, empty, and heartbroken. I kept walking straight upstairs to lay down on our bed. My bed, shoving my face into the pillow so no one would hear me fall apart.

When I felt Misses Crook touch my arm I knew I had slept many hours and blinked at her while something sad and painful crept up my spine. Inch by inch I felt it moving toward my brain and my ramming heart wondered what tragedy had occurred. It felt rather like a sledgehammer brought down on my head when I remembered we were back in 2019 because Jamie left me.

Dear Misses Crook rocked me like a baby until my gasping sobs were finally under control. She pressed a whisky in my hand and then passed me a plate of food and told me when to take a bite, when to chew, when to swallow. Another whisky and I felt my muscles unlock allowing me to lie down. The covers were pulled up to my chin and Misses Crook sat in the rocking chair and read to me. It was a book from the Nancy Drew mystery series where Nancy and her trusted friends solved crimes. The characters were too young to know romantic love, too young to know heartbreak and betrayal, so it was safe as one word led to another for what seemed like hours. That act of kindness saved my life that night and the next and the next. Misses Crook’s compassion seemed to have no end.

When his hand touched my cheek the smell of him took me to a safe place in my dream where people were happy and encouraging and I was a queen. His touch was pulling me out of my slumber and I resisted, not wanting to face the pain of a new day.

“Pet, open your famous eyes please.”

My eyelids opened but I couldn’t bear to look up at him, so I stared at his leg and felt the hot tears slide down my cheeks. I wondered why I hadn’t died yet. It was the only solution to the crushing pain, and I had done little to sustain my existence so why was I still waking up each day. When his arms slid under me, I knew my arms and legs would fall off if he lifted me out of bed and I felt a glimmer of excitement the torment was almost over.

Joe pulled me into his lap amid my protests to let me be, but he wasn’t listening I guess. I heard him gasp when his hands touched my rib cage and he pushed my greasy hair away from my face.

“You have company, that would be me, so get up and take a shower, or maybe you would rather have a bath. What is your preference?”

I laid my head on his shoulder and tried to go back to sleep. Back to the black I had come to love. When I landed on my feet in the bathroom I wondered when Joe had become so annoyingly bossy and finally looked at his face. No tears, that was a shock, maybe my tear ducts had emptied a lifetime of tears and I was finally free of them. Joe felt the water and announced it was perfect for a nice shower, then he left me there. This seemed odd. Leave me alone in a room and close the door. It was time to go back to bed but when I opened the bathroom door, Joe was pushing me back while he pulled off my clothes.

The shower water was the height of discomfort and try as I might I could not get out. Joe pushed me right back under the water and finally stripped to his boxers and got in the shower with me. He shampooed my hair and then handed me a sponge gushing with lather from my shower gel. I rubbed it down my arm and looked at him for approval. The strong scent of aromatherapy was waking me up and clearing my head, so I was able to finish my shower without help. When I emerged, there were clean clothes on the vanity. I put them on with a deep sigh.

Joe stayed with us for a week, until Baritone could get back from his Paris show. It seemed like they were passing the baton of who would be in charge of me. I hugged them both hello and goodbye but felt nothing inside, just one more thing to do. Baritone was so happy to be reunited with the women, but Faith had his heart. He spent hours on the floor with her asking questions about what game they were playing to which she answered mostly gibberish while he smiled down at her.

The sun came up each day, I went through my chores, and the sun went down. Day after day, week after week, and I felt like a cold wasteland inside. I didn’t cry anymore, nor did I laugh, but it was okay because I didn’t feel pain.

Three months have passed, and snow now covers the ground. Only the horses are happy about the cold temperatures. We stay indoors and watch movies. Joe and Baritone are both here causing loud laughter during dinners and sparking stimulating discussions that I endure, like everything else. I need to get away from all of these people, so I head for the stairs saying goodnight. Seeing the door to my bedroom fills me with relief but during the first sigh, someone is knocking.

“I request the company of my best friend please.”

“For what?”

“A walk.”

“Don’t be ridiculous Joe, it’s freezing out there, goodnight.”

“Think of it as an incentive to get through our discussion without a lot of arguing. I have a small matter that I need your help with, Pet.”

We bundled up and headed out for whatever Joe needed. I only hoped it would be quick.

“I want to talk about your mental health, Claire.”

I was quite practiced at pretending I was in the conversation and most times it was enough. Not tonight. Joe forced me to look at him as he talked about Jamie and asked how I was feeling.

“Stay with me Pet. No, you cannot go inside and hide away from my questions. Do you realize you left him no way to find you, no way to message you or write to you? Jamie went to the mountain to start work on a home because you judged him and shut him out of your heart. I realize the hurt was devastating to you, so you didn’t speak to him for three or four days. But a deal was struck for the land and he was expected to be there doing his duty. I don’t see he had much of a choice. He had to go.”

“So he went. End of story.”

“Extraordinary love doesn’t happen every day, and it doesn’t go away, Pet. Maybe the only thing he could do is start building a house and hope with time you would forgive him, but you closed that door. Do you ever wonder if he is suffering, as you are?”

“No. He is quite busy chasing after savages and protecting settlers from the watch. He probably hasn’t had time to build his house yet. Who cares?”

“You do Pet, and he does, I would bet my life on it.”

“Are we done here, Joe?”

I was feeling weird inside like a piano was about to fall on my head, and it scared me. Wherever this conversation was going, I felt vulnerable and laid bare. I wanted it to stop.

“You owe him one conversation, Pet. You owe the man time to speak his peace and you speak yours. If you decide to quit each other after that you will have no regrets or guilt. I have never known you to be cruel until now and I don’t think you want to be that person.”

“I didn’t know you had such a thing for him.” I was grasping for something to say and could feel my nose in the air like some ridiculous power posture. I was starting to feel something and I didn’t want to. I couldn’t let this happen.

“Say his name, Claire”

“I am going back to the house, this conversation is over.”

“Say his name.”

“Jamie. Happy now”

One shaky stride after the other, I made my way to the house and then to my room. I didn’t want to see anyone, not even Faith. My back slid down the wall and I crumpled on the floor. I went minute by minute, hoping to gain some control over my emotions again. I wanted more than anything to feel nothing and was willing to give up every emotional high for the rest of my life, so I didn’t have to face the pain that was coming.

Maybe this is what warriors do before battle. I willed my thoughts away, closed my mind to everything I loved, and steeled myself against the coming war in my mind. When Jamie’s image filled my mind, I gasped as if I was mortally wounded. I didn’t want this, but there he was. His head was lowered, and his eyes were full of pain on the last day I saw him. He beckoned me to speak to him, pleaded with me to understand his decision. I could see his face and I felt his pain, but I turned my back on him. The man I swore to love until the end of time was shunned by me, his wife. Every minute of our encounters the last four days went through my head. Minute by minute, I saw him plead, with an open heart that I closed myself to. What kind of person does such a thing? That’s when the pain started, really started in my gut, where I couldn’t reach it to pull it away from me. I tried to imagine the same treatment from him and couldn’t because Jamie would never do such a thing to me.

The pain grew as the minute’s past. It felt like a knife slicing through me from the inside and I couldn’t take it anymore. I moaned and cried, holding myself while I rocked against the wall. When I let myself sob it felt like the end of time had come and I sobbed harder, calling out to Jamie in my mind, screaming at the stones for their passage to this disaster.

Hours passed as my sobbing continued. My gaze fell to the floor under our bed, to Jamie’s secret place. I crawled to it, pushing the bed away until the board was exposed. I had to touch something of my previous life, something of Jamie’s. Through bleary eyes I found the seam and popped the board loose, falling on my knees I tore through the ancient papers. The years had faded the ink so much I couldn’t read them, and I felt a helpless spiral toward everlasting sorrow. The papers fell to the floor and I heard a glass vial hit the wood. When I picked it up, my name was clearly written on the paper inside.

My Dearest Sassenach, Nothing could have prepared me for this heartache. I hoped to bring you back to the land when there was a door that could lock you safely inside. I prayed daily for God to bless yer heart with forgiveness. I did not know what else to do. When I learned you were gone, I lost my mind and jumped on a ship headed for Scotland. Poor weather made the journey twice as long and nearly cost my life from sickness, loneliness, and fear I would never find ye. I have been here for many days, avoiding capture from redcoats while I search the gorge for a blue stone. I won’t stop lookin for ye sweetheart. Not ever. JMF

Jamie’s note shook in my hands as I read it. I could not tear my eyes from the paper as I read it over and over again. My poor sweet Jamie, I thought, what have I done? I tried to think of him, searching the gorge in a country loaded with the enemy and felt my protectiveness over him seep into my consciousness. When I stood up, I felt the muscles of my youth flex and hold me steady while my mind cleared for the first time since leaving him. I’m coming, Jamie. Forgive me please. I’m coming for you.

Yanking my drawers open I layered the warmest clothes I had before searching my closet for the blue rocks. I looked for Jamie’s heavy coat and pulled it on before holding the rock and thinking of the gorge I had searched so many times. When I heard the rushing in my ears and felt the pressure of shooting through the centuries, I finally calmed down a little. I am coming, Jamie.

I felt the wind blow against my face and the earth under my feet. It was so dark I could not see my hand in front of my face and proceeded slowly, feeling my way toward the gorge I hoped. When my eyes became accustomed to the darkness, I could see the outline of trees and the jutting landmass that formed the gorge. I exhaled in relief that I had come to the right place but in this darkness, how would I find Jamie? I pressed on, stumbling over rocks until I lost my footing and landed hard on the ground. When I got to my feet, large hands pushed me hard into the side of the gorge knocking the wind out of me and I fell forward, caught by arms that seemed so familiar.

“Christ, Sassenach! Dear God, what have I done?”

I tried to pull air into my lungs, making horrible noises in the process. Jamie picked me up and moved us into the trees. He laid on the ground and spoke soothingly to me, telling me to calm myself and breathe. I felt his hand run down my arms and legs, searching for something.

“Are ye wounded, lass?”

“No.”

I could barely see the outline of his head and body, but my hands found his face and held him. He dropped to my side shushing my tears and holding me close. I wanted nothing more than to lay there in his embrace, knowing he was alive and holding onto me. Jamie shook from the cold, so I scrambled out of his coat and wrapped it around him. He tried to protest until I showed him my own coat worn underneath. I buttoned it around him and held him tightly.

I don’t know how long we laid there, asleep or awake, I just gripped his powerful arms and breathed him into me. When I felt a hand over my mouth, I knew danger was close by and my eyes flew open to the dawn. He looked at me and held a finger to his lips and then released my mouth. I heard men talking and rocks being kicked as they searched for something. We were much too close to the redcoats and I suddenly feared we would both be caught. I felt along the ground until my hand settled on my rock in the pillowcase. I held Jamie tightly and pulled the rock out, concentrating on Lallybroch in 2019.

I felt Jamie’s grip on me tighten as we sailed through time. I lifted my face to him, kissing him deeply, and felt time stand still. The wind in my ears stopped, the pressure lifted, and we were suspended in a space without earth, without a century, as we kissed. I clung to him and kissed him with all the love I felt for him and he did the same. When I broke the kiss, I closed my eyes as the wind came back to my ears.

We laid in a field close to Lallybroch for some time. I could not articulate my thoughts, so I just held him close as he did me. At one point, Jamie pressed his forehead to mine until my tears came, warm and wet on my cheeks.

“I’m sorry Jamie.”

“Sh. I know your pain, lass, as ye know mine. I have but one wish, to stay with ye, wherever ye choose. I will not be parted from ye again.”

It was dawn in this century and we stumbled to the house, still wrapped around each other, and made our way to the shower. I shaved Jamie’s long beard and threw his tattered clothes into the wash before making my way quietly back to our room. When I saw him laying on our bed I started to cry.

“Come here, love.”

His arms were reaching for me and I fell into them as he wrapped himself around me. He rocked me until my tears stopped. I wanted to feel his skin next to mine so I pulled my robe off and hugged him as I tried to assemble words into sentences that would convey my every emotion. The only sentence that formed is how sorry I was.

“I am sorry too, mo chridhe, more than I could ever say adequately. I am so damn glad for yer leap of faith to come and find me. I would have lost my will to live without ye lass, that is the truth of it.”

“I know exactly what you mean. But you’re here now, with me, and we can go home and forget the last three months alone. When we get there, I want to destroy these rocks. I have no interest in being anywhere without you.”

“Thank ye lass.”

His kiss restarted my heart, my hopes and dreams, and my belief in the greatest man. He broke the kiss and confessed he had eaten very little in many days. That is when I noticed his hands shake.

“Dear God! You need a breakfast fit for a king.” Come down whenever you’re ready, I love you.”

I bounced into the kitchen and shocked Misses Crook who was preparing oatmeal for the household. She stared at me in disbelief and asked if I was well. I had not said a word to her, but she could clearly see the change in my face. I held her hands and whispered the Laird was here and hungry. Her eyes went wide, and her smile would have lit up a dark night. I don’t often see Misses Crook move that fast, but she was on a mission. Her Laird was hungry.

The house filled with the aroma of bacon, sausage, eggs, and pancakes. Freshly brewed coffee and of course, oatmeal. It didn’t take long for the men to answer the call of morning hunger. Joe hugged me for a full minute and whispered “well done” in my ear. How could he possibly know I found Jamie last night? It seemed they were all mind readers suddenly and I giggled at that. I poured coffee for everyone and looked at the parlor wondering where Jamie was. When Glavia walked in smiling brightly she announced the Laird was with his daughter getting her dressed for the day.

I peeked into the nursery and felt my heart jump to my throat. Jamie sat in the rocking chair with Faith’s arms around his neck pressing into him. Neither of them moved, they just hugged each other. I waited for as long as they needed and tried not to make a sound. Faith turned her head to Jamie and kissed his cheek repeatedly, while Jamie smiled.

“She has grown so much, and where did all this hair come from?”

I had a choice between feeling remorse and guilt or happiness at seeing this reunion. I chose the latter. Jamie and I both had a hand in our separation, and we would forgive each other and get on with our lives. I smiled at him and suggested he could come for the feast we made when he was ready.

It wasn’t long before Joe and Baritone were on their feet shaking hands and slapping Jamie on the shoulder. Glavia smiled from ear to ear and Misses Crook shoveled food onto a plate and set it on the table for him. A tiny plate was set on the highchair tray waiting for one small, happy baby. Once Jamie swallowed two plates of food the mood became festive and lighthearted. I grabbed the cell phone from the counter and started snapping pictures of everyone. When I put it down, Baritone grabbed it and took many more.

“How is Donus?”

“He will be overjoyed to see you. I’ll get our coats.”

When we were all bundled up, we headed out to the barn. It was snowing big flakes that swirled around our faces. Inside the barn, it was warm from the propane heater. Jamie held Faith with one arm and hugged Donus with the other. He spoke Gaelic to the beast and I was delighted to hear it again.

“We ride, later my friend.”

He held his arm out to me and we walked back to the warm house. Misses Crook scolded Jamie with the utmost respect, telling him many days of food and rest was needed because he was much too thin. He looked down at me with his azure sparkling eyes.

“Perhaps we lay down for a bit when Faith takes her nap?”

“Perhaps we will.”

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