#what did abel think when his brother brought down his fists to him?

[tojisun]

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#i dont know what it is but i cant stop thinking about religious stories beyond the scriptures #how the first death in the bible is murder #what did abel think when his brother brought down his fists to him? #im a younger sister; my older sister is my beacon of light—the very person i try to emulate #i honour her in a way that is different. i am loyal to her more than i am to my mother #i wonder if abel was too. i wonder what he must have felt when his brother #who was so indifferent if not outright ignoring him #invited him out to the fields; did he think ‘‘my brother finally loves me?’’ #did he think ‘‘brother im so happy to be with you’’? #did he think ‘‘please let your kindness run forever’’? #‘​‘please keep inviting me to your fields’’ #‘​‘please let me be in your life’’? #sun rambles

[noladyme]

La Cuervo - Chapter 14

She is used to the biker-life, having grown into a woman in the familiar embrace of SAMCRO. A bad decision and a gun-shot later, she gets whisked off to Santo Padre, and put under the protection of another club. What is supposed to be a short stint in the Mayan headquarters just north of the border to Mexico, turns into something more; when la quervo begins to develop feelings for el angel - and he seems to return them in kind...

TW: violence, blood, drug use, alcohol, smut, fluff, angst

In the spirit of "The Crown Princess of Charming", this is a story about O.C. Nina and Angel Reyes. It is obviously non-canon, as characters who have passed on on Mayans M.C. are present in it, and others have been excluded completely. Nina is written as a cis-female, but I have tried to keep her race and looks as ambigous as possible. Should you find any of this story offensive, please let me know.

It wasn’t until Nina was alone, that realization struck her. She’d just agreed to leave Angel. Her Angel. The man who had brought her back to life. The thought struck her like a freight train, and she froze in place, almost literally. Her whole body went cold, and she felt like she couldn’t move for the longest time. The light in the room told her she must have sat like that for at least an hour. Finally able to move her head to look down, she looked at the crescent shaped cuts in her palms from her nails. Something wet began dripping onto them, and she found tears had begun running down her cheeks, without her even noticing it. Forcing her arm to reach for the pillow next to her, she took a deep breath, and held it to her face; before a wail like no other left her mouth. She screamed out her agony, not having felt anything like it since she’d been told that Jackson had gone through with his plan to kill himself. It was as if an actual death had occurred again; but this time it felt like her own.

After a while she put down the pillow again, and got to her feet. She opened the cabinets, and began pulling out he few belongings she’d brought to Santo Padre, and stuffed them in her backpack. Then she made the bed, and went into the small bathroom for her toothbrush. It looked so alone there, as if it missed standing next to Angel’s. She tore herself from the thought, and went to put that into her bag as well. Only the gun and her inhaler were left, and she went to pick them up, when she noticed the phone Bishop had given her laying on the counter by the sink. She picked it up, and sat down on the cot again.

She wasn’t sure who to call. No one could change her situation as it was; but she needed something – anything – to help her through. Just a voice to remind her that it wasn’t all for nothing. Looking at Jackson’s journal and the photo of his boys – which she’d saved for last – the answer came to her. She dialed up the number, praying to god that it was still the same as last time she’d used it. The call was picked up at the second ring.

“Hello?”. “Wendy? It’s Nina”, she said. “Hey, Nina. How is everything?”, Wendy replied. Nina heard a ruckus in the background. “Thomas, no more cookies…! Sorry. Someone decided sugar was a good replacement for lunch... Chibs told me you were going to Mexico”. Nina swallowed thickly. “Yeah… No, not really. I’m somewhere else”. “Well, I hope you’re enjoying yourself. What I’d give for a vacation…”, Wendy said. Nina knew she was just kidding. Wendy had never been happier than since she moved to the farm with the boys and Nero. “Yeah, well; vacation is over”, Nina muttered. “I was wondering if I could talk to the kids for a minute”. “Of course! They miss you”, Wendy said. There was another sound of something crashing in the background. “Sorry, I need to give Tommy a bath. No! We don’t wipe peanut butter on our faces…!”. Another crash. “Goddammit. Abel! Come to talk to aunt Nina while I help your brother… Take care, Nina”. Nina couldn’t help but smile a little, as she heard Wendy chase Tommy around the room. There was a short scrambling noise, before someone spoke again. “Hi, aunt Nina!”, a bright, young voice said on the other end. “Abel… Hi, buddy”, Nina said, instantly falling back into tears; but trying to stifle her sniveling. “How are you doing?”. “I’m ok… But Tommy broke my supersoaker…”. “Aw, that sucks. I’m sure he’s sorry”, Nina said. “Yeah, mommy Wendy made him apologize… You sound sad…”, Abel said. Nina wiped her eyes, as if the boy was right there in front of her. “No, I’m not sad. I just smelled your feet through the phone, and it made me cry”, she replied. “No, you didn’t!”, Abel laughed. “When are you gonna come visit? There’s a mule here, and we named him after you, even though he’s a boy; because daddy always said you were stubborn as a mule. And we have a trampoline, which is really cool, ‘cuz you can jump high. When I stretch up my arms when I jump, I’m almost as tall as Nero! And…”. “That’s great Abel. I’d love to see that…”. Nina sighed and closed her eyes, trying to picture the boy in front of her. He’d probably grown quite a bit, even after the picture Wendy had sent her was taken. “Are you being good for mommy Wendy?”. “Yeah, I eat my broccoli and everything. And I help Nero clean the horse-stalls”, Abel said. “That’s good. And you’re doing good in school?”, she asked, having to wipe her nose a bit. “Yeah… Do you have a cold? Your voice is funny”, Abel replied. “No, it’s still your feet, stinky!”, Nina chuckled. She heard bikes arriving on the lot, and felt another crying fit threatening to attack. “Look, buddy; I gotta run. I just wanted to make sure you were ok”. “I’m ok. Come visit us soon!”. “I promise, Abel. I love you!”. “Love you too. Bye!”. Abel hung up the call before Nina could say anything more. She quickly slipped the photo into the journal, and put it in her bag, before getting to her feet to face Angel.

---

The Mayans all looked to be in a good mood, when Nina opened the trailer door to step outside. EZ, Gilly and Coco went to gather the loaded sleep rolls, while Angel turned to look at her; a bright smile on his face.

Daniella came out of the clubhouse, and stood on the porch. She smiled shortly at Nina, before Angel noticed the blonde, and began approaching her. “Dani, we gotta talk”, he said. “Angel!”, Nina called out. He turned around, and looked at her confusedly. “Give me a minute”, he replied. “No. Now”, Nina declared, and stepped back inside the trailer. The Mayans all looked confused at this point, but didn’t intervene. Angel frowned, and gave Daniella a short look. She shrugged, before looking at Nina; palming her phone. Don’t try anything, she seemed to be saying. “Don’t go anywhere”, Angel said to her, and walked towards the trailer. “I’ll be right here, baby”, Daniella said.

Once inside the trailer, Angel closed the door. “Nina, what the fuck? I was just about to…”. “Daniella’s not the snitch. I talked to her”, Nina cut him off. “You what?”, Angel growled. “Girl talk”, Nina said. “She’s just here for you. Not to sell out your club”. She made herself keep an indifferent face while she spoke. “You should give her a chance”. “I’m not… What are you talking about?”.

Nina sighed deeply, and took a step back. “You and me… That was never gonna work out”. He tried to reach for her hand, but she turned around to throw her inhaler and gun into the bag. “Nina… What are you doing?”, Angel asked. “I’m leaving… Going home”, she replied. “Or somewhere else. I haven’t decided yet”. “You’re not going anywhere!”, Angel exclaimed, and yanked her bag out of her hands. “What the fuck is going on?”. Nina clenched her fists to hide the fact that her hands were shaking. Angel wouldn’t let her go unless she did something drastic. She swallowed thickly, and met his eyes with an indifferent gaze. “You people can’t protect me. I’m safer with SOA; what happened to Camille is proof of that”, she said. The furrow between Angel’s brows was deeper than ever. “I wasn’t gonna tell you this, but I talked to SAMDINO. I’m gonna take up Packer’s offer”. Angel looked like he’d been punched in the gut with a sledgehammer. “Packer… You wanna go be with Packer…”, he croaked. “Yeah… He’s… We’ve got history”, Nina lied. Angel’s expression was growing pained, but in spite of wanting to take him in her arms, and comfort him, Nina had to continue her ruse. “You said I was too good for this life. I’m not. I just want more than what you can give me. Queen of SAMDINO is the right step for me”.

She tried taking her bag back from Angel, but he threw it behind him; and grabbed a hold of her shoulders. “This is bullshit. What happened?”, he said. “I changed my mind. I don’t want to stay here”, Nina replied. “I’m sorry about that year I owe the club, but I’ll try to get some money, and have Chibs pay you whatever Bishop thinks I owe”. “This isn’t about money. You said you love me!”, Angel said, his voice breaking. Nina couldn’t say she didn’t; the words simply would not form in her mouth. She closed her eyes to avoid meeting Angel’s gaze, and let out a deep breath. “This isn’t about whatever I said or… felt”, she finally said. “We should have ended this the night we first slept together. It shouldn’t have gone further”. “Cuervo…”, Angel tried. “We’re done”, Nina declared, and forced his hands off her shoulders, before pushing past him, and grabbing her bag. “I’m sorry”. She almost ran out of the trailer, knowing Angel would physically try to stop her if she didn’t. “Nina!”, he called after her. She looked towards the porch; and through a haze of unshed tears, she saw Daniella smiling as she went.

Before anyone had a chance to stop her, Nina slipped into the front office, and dug out the small cashbox Chucky kept there. She felt bad for taking money from it, but she needed cash for wherever she was going. A few notes in hand, she ran off the lot, and down the road. Avoiding getting found in Santo Padre was difficult, as Nina had spent very little time away from the scrap yard. She knew she had to work fast to get as far away as possible, as soon as possible. There was no doubt in her mind that Angel would try to come after her – he was probably already on his way – and if he didn’t, Bishop might, to get her to fulfill her one-year promise.

Once out on the main road, she flagged down a car, and convinced the driver that she needed to get to a bus station; because her brother was sick, and she had to go see him. She was only half lying, she realized, as there was really only one place in the world she wanted to go in that moment. She had to go see her brother.

---

It took a little over a day to make the trip back to north California. The cash Nina had taken from the scrapyard could only get her so far by bus, and she had to hitch rides the rest of the way. Each time she heard the sound of a motorbike, or saw anyone wearing leather, she had the instinct to duck her head. She wasn’t sure what she was afraid of. Clearly, her cover wasn’t blown yet. Daniella wanted her alive, and if there was another snitch, they didn’t seem to be focused on her. It might have been the shame of how she’d run; how she’d been too weak to fight Daniella for what she wanted. Then again, that shame would have been greater and even more devastating, if fighting back had meant it would hurt her nephews. Ultimately, she was just distraught; and only wanted to speak with one person – even if he couldn’t reply.

It was just past midnight, when Nina finally made it to Redwood Memorial Cemetery, just outside of Charming. She’d gotten used to the heat in Santo Padre, and it was a cold night. With nothing more than a light jacket to cover herself, she was shivering as she walked down the rows of gravestones. She halted for a moment by a white stone, engraved with the name John Thomas Teller. Taking a moment to brush some stray leaves from the top of it, Nina sent a thought to the man who’d sired one of the most important people in her life; before moving on. Someone had left a bouquet of lilies on Tara’s grave. Her coworkers at St. Thomas, Nina figured. She chided herself for not having visited the grave more often, but coming to the cemetery had been painful the last couple of years. A fresh grave nearby sported multiple flower arrangements, and as no one was around, Nina nabbed a few roses from it, and left them next to the lilies. “Abel and Thomas are loved and safe. Sleep tight”, she whispered to the stone.

The last ten yards she had to walk towards her end goal felt like miles. A cold gush of wind made Nina shudder, and she threw her arms around herself; trying to rub some heat into them.

Jackson’s stone looked lonely, in spite of all the other’s surrounding it. It was like he had been in the last year of his life; surrounded by people, but alone in his pain. At the same time, it was incredibly peaceful; like it should be. He’d found rest from his torment and sorrow. Nina imagined him riding his bike down an ethereal highway; his father next to him, and Tara riding pivot. “Fucking soppy”, Nina chuckled to herself.

She sat down on the ground next to the stone, and ran her fingertips over the lettering. Jackson Nathaniel Teller. “I miss you…”, she began. She chewed her lips, and wiped away a stray tear. After a moment searching for the right words, she finally sighed. “I am so angry with you, Jackson. You left me… And I love you as well. I love you for everything you taught me about being a good person; which just makes me even more angry, because I’ll never be able to live up to the example you set… I fucked up. I took so many wrong turns after you died; even though I promised… I know you expected more from me, and I’m so sorry; but I’m not strong enough to…”. The stray tears had become two steady streams falling from her eyes. “You said, be happy… And I was really happy for the first time in what felt like forever. But I can’t be happy, and also live up to your example of protecting your family… My family”. She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes, as if trying to force herself to stop crying. “Your boys are safe, and I’m gonna keep them that way. That means breaking my promise of being happy to you, but I also know it’s what you would do… So, I guess in some way, I’m still doing what you taught me…”. She took a deep breath, and finally the tears stilled.

Nina moved behind the stone, and leaned her back against it; as she had sat back-to-back with Jackson on the roof of the old clubhouse in Charming, before the explosion. She remembered how her whole body would rumble along with Jax’s; as he laughed at whatever ridiculous thing she would tell him about her day – or the time she’d told him she was planning to drop out of high school, and sign up with CaraCara once she turned 18. Yeah, that’s not happening, darlin’. I’ll tie your ass to the seat, until you’re wearing that cap and gown. I don’t wanna see my little sister’s naked ass on camera. It was that conversation, and his response, that made her keep the fact that she’d quit community college hidden for a full week; before Chucky sold her out. A pang of pain struck her heart as she remembered that she hadn’t even said goodbye to the good-humored little man.

After a long moment, Nina began speaking again “I know I can’t live in memories, but it’s the closest thing to happiness that I have now… And I want to tell you about him”. She took a deep breath, almost as nervous as if Jackson would have been able to respond. “His name is Angel… and you would hate him”, she chuckled. “He’s a biker… surprise! Bet you didn’t see that coming… He’s smug, and a smartass; and a horny little shit… He’s also a Mayan… I know! But he’s also… so kind and full of life… and sofucking hot… which is something I guess you didn’t need to know”. She chewed her lower lip, and closed her eyes, seeing Angel in front of her. “He’s got this dimple between his eyebrows when he gets frustrated or confused – which is quite often, if I’m gonna be honest… And he’s so much smarter and warm and lovable than he gives himself credit for. I’ve never felt more loved and cared for, than when I was with him… I mean, I felt that from you, and from Filip and the rest; but… This was different, because I wasn’t just a sister or a friend. I love him. Like love him…”. She frowned. “But it’s over. I had to end it”.

The cold was getting to her, so the shivers from her pain mixed with ones of freezing. She hadn’t eaten or drank anything for more than a day, and she was exhausted. She looked around her, not ready to leave; and not really knowing where to go anyway. Opening her backpack, Nina got out the journal, and opened a random page; running her fingers over the handwritten words. “Know that the decisions that you make effect everyone and everything, along with yourself. It has taken me a long time to realize that, and I wish I would have sooner. And as much as I want to help you, tell you what to do; I can't. Those choices will be yours, and yours alone. The only advice I can give you, is to examine who you are as a person and what you choose as your path in your life. Find your own truth. It will lead you to the things you love”. “I wish you could help me too”, she whispered. “I don’t know what my path is, and I can’t promise to get over this. I can’t promise that I will be happy; and we both know me well enough to know, that I’m not gonna handle this well… So, I’m just not gonna make any of those promises; it wouldn’t be honest of me if I did…”. She clutched the journal against her chest, and fished the .38 out of the bag; holding it in her hand. Nina sat for a long time, just looking at it. “I’m gonna sleep now. And then I’m gonna drink, and smoke, and try to get laid… and do everything else unhealthy, until I can finally become numb enough to… not chose your path”.

She had nothing else to say; simply couldn’t find the words. Instead, she curled up on the cold ground, closed her eyes; and let sleep take her over.

---

“Nina?”. She heard footsteps heading her way. Filip looked down at her disheveled state, and then at the gravestone and the gun in her hand; and his face dropped. “She’s here”, he said. Tig and Happy came up behind him. “Shit, muffin. What happened?”, Tig asked. Happy frowned. “Chibs, why is she here?”. “Not now, Hap’”, Filip said. “Let’s just get her out of here. Get the gun”. One of them scooped her into their arms; she was too exhausted to notice who…

---

The radio was turned all the way up, and she was swaying her hips to the music.

“Nina, get off the counter!”, Filip called out from across the room. He looked almost angry. Nina took a sip of her beer, and stretched her arms into the air. “Why? I thought the party was about to start…”, she laughed. Filip walked over to her, and wrapped his arms around her legs, making her fall over his shoulder. “Yes. A children’s birthday party. This is an ice cream shop, you lush”, he growled, and carried her out the back door; setting her down at the foot of the stairs going up to the actual SAMCRO clubhouse. She noticed Rat smiling apologetically at the arriving guests; which consisted of a group of 7-yearolds, and the flabbergasted mother of the birthday-boy. “Tell them I’m sorry”, Nina whispered very loudly to Filip, before looking towards the mother. “I’m sorry!”, she yelled.

Filip dragged her up the stairs, and more or less threw her on one of the leather couches. “Jesus Christ, Nina…”, he sighed exasperatedly. “We do actually need the front of this operation functioning”. “Pfft”, Nina sputtered. “Everyone in town knows what this place is. You’re leather clad bikers who sell guns, for fucks sake! I need a drink”. She went to get off the couch, but Filip pushed her back down, and took the beer bottle from her hand. “You’ve had enough”, he said. “Get some sleep”. “No sleep ‘til Charming!”, Nina sang. “You’re in Charming", Tig said, having come over from the bar area. He snatched her pack of smokes from her, before she could get them from the coffee table, and held out a glass of water. Nina scrunched up her nose. “Fish pee in that”, she said. Tig sat down, and lifted the glass to her lips. “Don’t make me hold your nose”, he said. The water looked a little murky, but Nina accepted the glass, and drank it all, before throwing it into the air. Filip caught it mid-air, and rolled his eyes. “Buzz-kill”, Nina sneered.

She leaned back in her seat, before suddenly, her stomach began rumbling violently. Tig sprang for a trashcan, and held it in front of her; just in time for Nina to hurl a week's worth of alcohol and Happy’s scrambled eggs into it. “What was in that?”, Filip grunted. “Bit of charcoal”, Tig said. “Better than taking her to get her stomach pumped at St. Thomas’”. “I hate you…”, Nina heaved between two streams of vomit leaving her mouth. “I know, muffin. I love you too”, Tig smiled, and stroked her back.

After what seemed like hours, Nina finally had nothing left inside her to throw up, and she curled up on the couch. “Now I’m sober… thanks”, she said sarcastically. “Give me my cigarettes”. Filip went to get her bag, and dug out her toothbrush; handing it to her. “This is all you’re putting in your mouth for now”, he said. “Add toothpaste. You smell like death”. Nina disgruntledly took the toothbrush from him, and got on her feet to go to the bathroom; grabbing the toothpaste from her bag on the way.

Once she’d finished brushing her teeth, and splashed some cold water in her face, she went back into the bar area. “You’ve kept me here for days. I wanna go back to my apartment”, she said. “You can’t. Lyla’s using it as a set today”, Tig said. Nina groaned. “They’re gonna get porn-cum on my sheets”, she said. “Wouldn’t be the first time. What was that fella’s name again…? Kirk?”, Filip laughed, and went behind the bar to pour himself a scotch, and fill a mug of coffee. Happy and T.O. came up the stairs as they spoke. “I just remember him as; Please-god-no-I-swear-I’ll-never-talk-to-her-again-guy”, Tig said indifferently. “I think Opie took care of that one”. “Nah, that was Jax himself”, Happy said. “He’s teaching history in Milwaukee now”. “The history of his once functioning penis, I gather”, Filip muttered and looked at Nina, who’d sat down by a table. “Did he know you were 17?”. “I was 19!”, Nina sneered. “And his name was… Fuck, I can’t remember… Look, call Lyla, and then take me home!”.

Filip sat down across from her, and slid the coffee over the table. Nina took a welcome sip of it. “I don’t trust you on your own”, he said softly. “Is that why you won’t give me back my gun?”, she muttered. “You remind me too much of your brother at the moment”, he replied. Rage and sadness streamed through her body, and Nina got up; kicking her chair hard, making it fall to the floor. “Then give me a goddamn bike, and I’ll hit the road. There are trucks enough out there!”. She speed across the room, trying to reach the stairs; but T.O. got in her way, and grabbed her shoulders. He pushed her backwards into Happy’s arms. He picked her up like she weighed nothing more than a small child, and deposited her on the couch. He looked down at her with enraged eyes, tears forming in the corners of them. “Don’t ever say that again! Ever!”, he growled. Nina was shook, and suddenly her body began quaking. She sobbed quietly, and covered her eyes with her hands. Happy sat down next to her, and pulled her into his arms. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry”, she whimpered. “I know, princess”. He rocked her back and forth, and kissed the top of her head.

Nina looked up, and was struck by each of the Sons’ expressions; ranging from sad, to angry, to pained. “I can’t stop fucking up… All I do is hurt people…”, she sobbed. Filip reached his hands out, and Happy released her to take them, and be pulled into the president’s embrace. “You are pure light, my love”, he said, before cupping her tear-streaked face in his hands. “Stop trying to snuff it out… I’m not talking about threatening to off yourself; we both know that will never happen, because we won’t allow it”. He pressed his forehead to hers. “You have to stop thinking of yourself like a failure not worthy of happiness. Stop killing that flame inside you”. “But I can’t be happy…”, Nina croaked. “If I try to be…”. She halted herself. She hadn’t told anyone of her deal with Danielle. “Tell me…”, Filip said. “I can’t”, Nina replied resolutely. “It’s… life or death”.

She pulled herself out of his grasp, and went for her cigarettes; which Tig had put on the top shelf behind the bar. He didn’t try to stop her. “Everything we do is life or death”, T.O. said. It was the first words he’d spoken since he’d arrived, but they were poignant. Nina lit her cigarette, and hesitantly met his eyes. “This is different”, she said. “If it was just… No”. She took a draw of her cigarette, picked up the chair from the floor, and sat down by the table again. “This is how it is now. I’m home, and I’ll try to… be better”.

They were interrupted by Quinn coming up the stairs. He looked around at the emotional faces in the room, and frowned. “Did you guys watch the Notebook again?”, he asked with a smirk. “Whatever; wrap it up. We got the in-laws incoming”. Nina frowned in confusion. “What’s going on?”, she asked. Filip gave her a half smile. “You wanted to go home; didn’t you…?”.

A roar of motorcycles sounded from outside, and Nina looked out of the window. A group of bikes came down the street, led by a brusque looking man on a roadking – handlebars high as the sky.

---

tag: @cole-winchester @doloreschanal

#angel reyes #angel reyes fic #angel reyes x oc #sons of anarchy #mayans mc #mayans mc fic #sons of anarchy fic #jax teller

[mercysought]

She hated that place. But not in the same way that she hated home.

Her home was all that she had known for a very long time, the glimpses of the outside world only visible through small and short visits to the city. Unrecognisable, dressed in men’s clothing with her hair kept in the same style as her brother’s would if he let it grow. 

Her home was beautiful, comfortable, exactly all that she could want. Carefully curated books from her mother and father, only sensible ones for a Lady’s mind (despite her mother’s complaints). Tutors that could keep boredom away. Physicians that would try to keep her nightmares subdued. Her mother keeping her within the home, with fear hanging like a heavy curtain over a large window: the fear that one day those same physicians would take her baby away.

This place? This place taunted her.

She had traded her skirts for a pair of trousers much like what she had in the past. Her heavy coat having been discarded once they had reached warmer climates. Still, she wore a corset above the looser and lighter blouse. A lighter coat hid most of her small frame. 

Émilie stared at the lively beach, feeling the weight of the sword that rested horizontally on her lap. The weight of the barrel of a small firearm swaddled against the palm of her hand. Thin fingers drew circles over the metal as she watched people go. Short dirty nails scratch it absently as the warm breeze brushes aside light blonde hair. 

   “You should not have come. Do you understand how dangerous these people are, Émilie?! What could have happened to you?!” 

She didn’t know what she had expected. A hug, perhaps. A flash of a smile and surprise when she turned around to see Abel walk into this small tavern on the island of Nassau. Shock had certainly crossed her brother’s face, a rare sight, but that had not remained for long. Instead she still felt the burning on her upper arm as he had grabbed her towards a more isolated corner, room, of the house. 

Abel did not know how to scream, or shout, to anyone. Émilie had learnt this first when they were still children and she had cut his knee with his own training weapon. Nor was he the type to scold. She had not expected the strength with which he had grabbed her arm. She had not expected the scolding. Émilie’s bright eyes still hold his confusion, the same deepening frown when they come to a stop.

Everything is loud in this place and Abel had always been small, softer. Even now in the middle of this, standing so close where she could see how much longer his hair had grown and how the sun had burnt his eyebrows. He is still soft. So soft she can barely hear him regardless of how much she focused in, how much she tried. His hand dives into the light brown hair, pulling it back as his back turns to her. She can see the bright freckles around his neck, the same ones that had dashed across his cheeks. The same ones that splash hers.

   “You stopped sending letters!” her voice shakes, her hand still wrapped around her arm. She had heard stories from the pirates that had taken her here of this place: the single piece of the free world. A free world. This place that had taken her brother hostage. These people that lived a life according to their own rules. How Émiliie both loathed and envied them. Half the thoughts pulling at her to come closer and the other disgusted at the violence that was offered so freely “I knew something was wrong, and I knew you were still alive! I had to help! I had to come!” 

His brother turns to face her and in her face he finds a challenge: if it was the other way around; deny it. Deny that you wouldn’t have done the same way. A bait. Émilie watches him, mirroring much of his stance. Straightened shoulders, tense jaw. In a place filled to the brim with expert fishermen and large sharks, it seemed Abel had only set himself deeper into his ways: and so her bait remains untouched.

   “You are going to wait for me to find you safe passage back to France.” he says simply and matter of fact.

Abel starts walking, walking past her and with his hand pushing aside the curtains that make out for a poor divider. Her mind does not run so much as it sprints, swirling around. She could feel it. This place. It is a poor excuse and yet it does nothing but embolden her in the volume with which her words come out, in the loud French that starts to fill the space over the cups.

   “What?!“ Émilie’s shock could only be compared to the anger that erupts from her mouth, to the speed with which she turns and grabs his arm, preventing him from leaving. Her hair, loose into long and pale strips, so unlike what she would have worn at any other time, sways over her coat. Grey eyes find his “I’m NOT leaving without you! I’m not going back to our parents to tell them that you became a pirate and chose to stay to pay an imaginary debt instead of returning!“

   “Because our parents know that you’re here?” he shoots back, softly. And how that only made her angrier. Not that he knew that she had found a way of leaving their home and that they were likely more concerned over her than him. The fact that Abel never raised his voice. It drove her mad “I cannot leave. Not yet.”

His hand covers hers over his arm, as they do they release of the curtain. His fingers curl around hers and start to pull away. Her nails dig deeper.

   “Why?! Because of your STUPID sense of HONOUR?” his brows shoot up. And there is hurt lingering in grey eyes that stare back at hers and she cannot stop herself from feeling glad. Glad that he seems to be showing something, anything. That her words seem to have finally reached him “They are PIRATES, Abel!” she points out, out towards the tavern. Her eyes do not leave her brother’s “Thieves, murderers! That they didn’t kill you outright is a miracle! You would lay down your life for them because you think they spared you, when they would not think twice before leaving you to ROT after you stop being useful!”

He holds his breath and she feels like she just ran across the whole beach full sprint. Her teeth sink into her lower lip and her free hand falls beside her body. Small hand closing into a fist. The silence holds, hangs in the air while Abel holds his sister’s hand that had found purchase on his arm.

   “Émilie.” 

— Don’t start.  — Don’t ask this of me. — I know you don’t mean it. But this changes nothing.

Any one of those options could have been what followed and yet nothing did. Only his stare and the silence. The gentle hold of his hand. Émilie lip quivers and her hold tightens around his arm “I can’t protect you and you don — ”

   “Then you better be ready to tie me up and drag me to the boat back to France.” she hears herself say, pulling her hand from his arm. It jolts down to the side of her body. Her jaw could snap. Between gritted teeth she warns: “I’m not leaving.” 

Émilie brushes past her older brother, dodging the hold on her arm. Her hand pulls the curtain aside, her boots heavy against the old wood floor and she walks past the row of murdering thieves out into the bright sun of Nassau. Not sure where to, it didn’t matter.

She still didn’t know where she was. Not too far from the tavern. Close enough to the sea that she could see the same ship that had brought her in but no familiar face. 

   “I heard the fight.” 

With a jump, her hold on the pistol tightens but it does not move it towards the source of the voice. She did not recognise the man that had walked into the small shack that she had found herself in, hidden away from the sun and the searing heat. He was speaking English, and while her knowledge of the language had certainly improved in the few months that she had travelled to reach Nassau, it was not good. Still, she understood one word at least: fight. 

The hold loosens as she watches him approach. Both hands raised briefly and he sits next to her against some crates. Émilie’s weight shifts, moving only slightly further from where he was.

   “You’re Abel’s…?” her eyes remain on the beach, on the men picking up crates and the way they brought them to the shade of rickety constructs such as this one. She breathes in slowly, her eyes lower to her hands before they once again move to the beach. He didn’t pose a danger, not yet at least. But could she even trust her gut feeling in this island? 

Émilie glances in the man’s direction. She recognised him, or at least his features were somewhat familiar. One of the men that Abel had arrived with. With a deep breath she looks again at the beach, considering his question. Abel’s name sounded wrong when spoken in that accent. 

Still, if it was a question and her brother’s name was mentioned she was almost certain she knew what he was asking, seeking confirmation of “Sister.”

   “Sister…”

He repeats, nodding, looking out to the same spot that Émilie was once again staring at the men and the many ships docked by the beach. While the noise from them was loud, the man sitting beside her grew louder. Not him, not himself per se, but an anxiety that grew louder every second that he spent there. The warm breeze brushed against them both as the silence continued, growing heavier by the second until a soft breeze came and seemed to brush it away. His anxiety, however, grew louder.

How she wished he would just leave her alone.

Émilie looks to the other for another moment. An empty paper. Something about an empty paper, about the safety of his crew. Captain Flint. Her breathing grows heavier and when she feels his eyes turn to her she quickly looks to the sea, turning her face completely from him. She had heard of him. Heard some. Enough.

   “I don’t know how to speak English well. And you won’t understand me speaking French.” she turns to face him once again, speaking in French because it was easier. Easier and because she wanted him to be gone, to understand that she didn’t want him there. Her sentence comes to a close with an exasperated sight and her lips held into a thin line.

The pure confused expression on his face would have been endearing if she hadn’t been in such a sour mood. Instead he simply looks at her for a solid second, much like her also likely attempting to pierce together what she had just said.

The crates creak under his weight as he gets up. Only now that she can have a good look at him does she realise how tall he was. He nods once again, her attention turns to the beach when she thinks he starts to turn to leave. And yet, he remains, standing, his hand pointing towards the weapons at her lap.

   “Do you know how to use those?” her eyes immediately follow where he pointed, down to the pistol and sword.

The sword she had brought from home. It was hers. The same way that Abel had been given one when he was younger. And this one? This one was old, old and small but what she had considered serviceable. Easy to hold and to use, if she needed. The pistol had been given to her from the Captain of the ship that had taken her there.

   You’re good at sniffing out trouble, and that’s good, but that can lead to a lot of shit being thrown your way so...

Good at sniffing (the same as smelling he had come to realise, but what a dog would do) out trouble. Good at understanding when the mood of the ship was turning dour, when it was turning dangerous. 

She brings them closer to her. Her cheeks and ears burn with each second that passed in the silence after his question was asked. Light grey eyes lift to look at his eyes, finally. He didn’t seem to speak as if to show off how defenceless she was, a threat. There was concern, plain and simple.

Small and thin hands hold the weapons tighter as the frown on her face grows deeper. No. She didn’t know how to use it.

   “What’s your name?” 

   “Émilie.”

#émilie de clair ( muses ) #émilie de clair ( headcanon ) #( émilie / billy ) #( SHUT UP. I DON'T WANT TO HEAR IT ) #( I LOVE EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS AND THAT'S THAT ) #long post tw #( this got really long lmao ) #( 2k words?? on a headcanon / non rp post??? who IS SHE )

[halfgclden]

Cards for Sorrow... | Abel&Gabriele

Date: October 30th, 2020

Summary: A page delivers a message. A plan is made.

It took a lot of Abel's strength to not immediately tell Gabriele everything that had happened that night when they saw him, but they restrained themself, if only for Rory's sake. However, once them and their cousin parted ways for the evening, Abel was back at the tarot reading tent, and, once through the queue, they sat in front of Gab and placed their hands face down on the table. "I have a problem, and I think you might be helpful in solving it. At least interested in it."

The night was nearing the end and Gabriele was starting to feel the strain of continually reading cards for the citizens of New Athens. Still, he smiled when Abel sat before him, not noticing the strain on their face. He shuffled his deck as they spoke. "Awesome. I can't promise tarot will give you answers to your problem, but we can definitely uncover some signs and guidance. Want to tell me more about it?"

Abel shook their head. "No, not tarot. Ag, I should've explained that better." They moved past lamenting the fact that they had not been clear in their first statement in order to be clear in the next one. "It's a ghost problem." They watched as Gabriele shuffled the cards. "Have you ever dealt with a possession?"

His hand slipped mid shuffle and one card fell face-up to the table— the Page of Pentacles. Gabriele frowned at the card, then at Abel, blinking for a few moments. A slight chill travelled through his body. "No, I haven't," he said. "But I believe I'm meant to be helping you with whatever is going on. Can you tell me more?"

Abel looked from the card on the table to Gabriele’s face, and their lips twitched upward involuntarily, reminded of Jacob. “Ah,” they sighed when he admitted that he had no experience, but had to admit that their spirits were slightly lifted (no pun intended) to know that someone would be helping them. “It’s Major. Being possessed. By... There’s one main ghost, but I believe there’s more, stuffed in there, and loud, and violent.”

Another chill moved down his spine and a small weight settled in his stomach; Gabriele's frown deepened as Abel explained. "Major," he mumbled, then he pressed a hand to his chin as his worry grew. "Do you know when this happened?" he asked. "Is he still in there? I only spoke to him once and I felt something strange, but he told me it was because he had a near death experience." Had he really missed something this drastic?

Abel shook their head again. "Nee. I had a dream about it, I believe, a few weeks ago, but I didn't know what it meant until I saw him." They frowned deeply under their mask. "I believe he's still in there. I silenced the ghosts, and he still spoke, and he seemed dazed. The ghost is not that good of an actor. He regained control after a few moments, then ran off again." Abel cleared their throat. "This was after the near death experience."

The more he learned, the more sure Gabriele was that this was exactly what he'd been looking for all this time. "Okay," he said quietly. He was partially relieved that he hadn't overlooked a possession, but it was still disturbing to know there was one at all. "I had a vision, too, about two months ago. I'm sure this is related." He glanced around the room, then picked up the card, folding it back into his deck. "Do you know who the ghost is?"

Abel nodded now, not taking their eyes off of Gab. "I doubt two visions about the same event are not connected." They ran their tongue over their teeth and sighed. "I think that it's the one that died on the quest in February. Lucien?"

Gabriele made a disconcerted noise. "I see..." He closed his eyes, rubbed his brow. "It was a violent death, yes? Sometimes ghosts have a hard time moving on when they are suddenly killed. But I'm surprised I didn't see anything between then and when... this happened." He shuddered, disturbed anew at the idea.

Abel nodded once more. “Violent, jarring, and now he’s been brought back.” They curled their hand into a fist on the table. “Ya, well... I don’t know. If it was his body, I could turn a blind eye, but now I have to get him out of there.” They sighed and leaned back in their chair. “Every time I’ve encountered him, I’ve been missing my spear, or else I would have reaped him on the spot.”

Gabriele nodded in agreement, up until Abel mentioned their spear. His face grew a little guarded and he leaned forward. “Are you sure that won’t also hurt Major?” he asked. He drummed his fingers on the table as he thought about it. “I’d like to help you, but I want to... try to make sure the host has minimal damage done to him.”

Abel set their jaw, pushing their headband up so that they could look at Gabriele with both eyes. "I'm not sure," they admitted, "but Major is in a worse pain right now. I don't know how... lucid he is, but having someone else in charge of you while you watch? A fate worse than death."

"Porca troia..." Gabriele mumbled as a wave of nausea rolled over him. "I hope for his sake that he's not lucid at all. I can't imagine what it must be— Well, I think I can, but whatever I'm picturing must be tamer than reality." He frowned again, fighting the urge to do a reading for himself for where he should even begin. "He doesn't deserve to spend the final weeks of his life like this. Let's try to make sure he comes out of this still living. Do you know where he's gone off to?"

Abel let Gabriele roll the thought over in his mind and shook their head. "No, but I know who brought him back from the dead. Do you know Jordan? He's a child of Hecate, and I saw him in my dream." They sighed. "He's a brother of my friend. Known to be reclusive, but not this demented."

Gabriele pressed his fingers to his temple and rubbed small circles there. "In my vision, I saw... A bird, coming back to life. Maybe he's done this before on a small scale." He was quiet again for a few moments. "I have heard of Jordan, but I don't believe we've spoken. I can't understand why he'd do this, unless he knew Lucien."

Abel set their jaw once more, a wave of anger at their inability to do anything thus far shooting through them. "Because he could? Do people not just test out their power to see if they can do things? Have you seen Jurassic Park?"

Despite the seriousness of this conversation, Gabriele smiled just a little. "I have not," he said, shaking his head. "You could be right. But I suppose I like to believe people are slightly more... forgivable? Regardless, we should try to figure out what spell he did."

Abel dragged their fingertips along the table, wishing there was some splinter to pick at. "I do not wish to give people the benefit of the doubt when they do horrific things. Can't stand the heat, don't attempt necromancy." They frowned again. "How will we figure that out? I can ask him."

Gabriele nodded in understanding, not wishing to argue the philosophy of this when there were more pressing issues. “Only if you believe that he will speak on it willingly.” He snapped his fingers. “I was hoping to talk to the children of Hecate for some personal research, maybe I can discover something that way.”

Abel shrugged one shoulder. "If I ask him directly and present him with the facts, I can gauge by his reaction what the best course of action would be. Maybe you can figure out the spell, and then I can speak with my father to decide what the necessary punishment is."

Gabriele didn't comment on the subject of punishment— he would happily let that be Abel's domain unless his goddess asked him to do otherwise. Letting the comment glide past him, he instead focused in on how he could get into the Hecate cabin. "I believe I've seen Jordan at the library, so I can approach him there."

Abel picked uselessly at the table again and nodded. "Sure. Let me know what information you glean from him, and I'll follow up, I suppose."

"Can I have your phone number?" he asked, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He had to admit, he thought they'd be exchanging information under different circumstances, but he could accept this.

Abel reached out as though to take Gab's phone, but didn't want a mishap with technology to turn this conversation (even more) sour. They recited it to him instead, then drummed their fingers on the table. "If I don't answer right away, don't be afraid to send a smoke signal or whisper my name into a hollowed out tree."

Gabriele, once again, was amused despite the seriousness of the situation. He also wasn’t sure if Abel meant it (their abilities were strange so Gabriele was willing to accept anything) or if it was a joke. This just made it funnier. “Noted,” he said with a small hum as he saved Abel as a contact. “If you need to reach me, I’m almost always on Instagram. No magical forms of contact for me, unfortunately.”

"Just the magic of technology," Abel sighed and pushed their chair back so that they could stand. "Your cards are lovely, by the way," they said once they'd made sure that they had everything. "I meant to say that earlier, but the other subject seemed a bit more pressing.”

“Oh,” Gabriele looked down at his deck and smiled. “Grazie. Yes, this was definitely more pressing. I will reach out to you very soon as soon as I learn more. And... I appreciate you coming to me. I think we can both help each other a great deal to save our friend.”

Abel felt that it would be in poor taste to point out that they weren't really friends with Major and were just doing this because it felt like the right thing to do, so they nodded. "I appreciate the help. You were the first person I thought of." Knowing that there were undoubtedly more people lined up for a reading from Gab, they took a step back into the shadows, held up a hand, and disappeared.

#c: abel #c: abelgabriele #cards for sorrow

[breanime]

Unsaid (Part Three)

Final part! Thanks for indulging me in this one, you guys. Hope you enjoy!

*gif not mine*

It was a surprisingly good day for Jax so far; he’d been able to secure a deal with the Mayans, sent some cash to Big Otto in the pen, finished producing a new series for the Cara Cara girls, and was able to talk Clay down from doing some sketchy shit to the club. Plus, you had stopped by the clubhouse to bring him lunch, which he ate after he ate you…

…It was a good day.

There was still some shit going on, of course. There was always shit. Hale was sniffing around the club again. He’d gone to your job a few weeks ago to interview you, but Jax had very clearly expressed to him his displeasure with that (he may have punched a hole in Hale’s office door), and that had been that. Gemma was pissed at Clay, which meant he was being a bitch to everyone else, and Tig and Kozik were at each other’s throats—still. Plus, the Nords were back on their bullshit, which meant trouble for the Sons. But, all things considered, Jax was happy with the way things were going. Particularly, he was happy with how things were going with you. So much so, in fact, that he was ready to take the next step with you. Upstairs, hidden in his dorm in his lockbox beside the first bullet he ever got pulled out of him, his passport, his Dad’s half-burnt manuscript, Abel’s first tooth, and a small velvet box containing an engagement ring.

“What kind of cut does she like?” Chibs had asked.

Jax, Chibs, and Opie were standing in the middle of a brightly lit jewelry store, actively ignoring the confused and suspicious looks they were getting from the customers and staff alike.

Jax shrugged. “This one?” He tried, pulling at his kutte, proudly showing his VP patch off.

Opie rolled his eyes, and Chibs chuckled despite himself. “Jesus Christ, Jackie, I meant what kind of diamond does she like? Like the style?”

“Oh shit,” Jax moved over to a display and looked down at the collection of sparkling rings, “I don’t know. Does it matter much?”

Chibs shook his head at the younger man’s stupidity. “To a woman? You bet your ass it matters, boy.”

“How’d the hell you do it the first time?” Opie asked.

“With Wendy?” Jax shrugged one shoulder. “It was easy, she was so loaded all the time, I could’ve given her a half-eaten Ring Pop and she wouldn’t have noticed.” He paused. “Actually, I don’t think I gave her a ring at all.”

“Well, you’re doing it right this time,” Chibs said, placing his hand on Jax’s shoulder encouragingly, “Although now I’m starting to think that maybe we should have brought Lyla or your ma.”

“Lyla’s working,” Opie said, voice tight. Neither Jax nor Chibs asked him to elaborate; they all knew what that meant.

“And Gem?” Chibs asked, effectively changing the subject.

Jax made a face. “If I brought my Mom, she’d be the one who ended up proposing.” He looked down at the display of spinning diamonds with a frown on his face. When the hell did they come up with these?

“That’s true,” Opie chuckled, coming to stand beside Jax, “Wow, that’s… new. When the hell did they come up with spinning jewelry?”

“Right?” Jax agreed.

“How about these?” Chibs pointed to a row of rings off to the side.

Jax leaned over to have a better look. “These aren’t bad,” he caught a saleswoman’s eye as he straightened up. The look she gave him was half-suspicious, half-interested.

“Can I help you…” She eyed their kuttes. “…gentlemen?”

“Yeah,” Jax smiled and watched her stance soften, “I’m looking for a ring to propose with, but there’s so many options…”

The girl’s face lit up, and she clasped her hands together in glee. “Oh, congratulations,” she cheered, her suspicious demeanor completely gone away now, “What’s her name?”

“Y/N,” Jax said, your name coming out of his mouth like a prayer. Just saying it once had him feeling all soft.

“Well I’m Michelle, let me show you some of our newer pieces. Does she have a preference?”

“She likes the pink-looking ones,” Chibs said eagerly, “I saw her showing some of her favorite earrings off to a couple of the girls the other night.”

“Pink?” Michelle asked, tilting her head.

Jax put a hand over his face as Opie huffed out a laugh. “You mean rose-gold, Irishman?” Ope said.

“Yeah,” Jax ignored Chibs and Opie’s arguing in the background and turned to Michelle, “She really likes rose-gold. You got anything in that color?”

It took Jax, Chibs, Opie, and the delightfully helpful Michelle about two hours to pick out the perfect ring. They thanked Michelle and tipped her heavily for her help, and though he was nervous, Jax was excited as well.

He had the ring, now all he had to do was drop to one knee and ask the most beautiful, loyal, amazing woman on Earth to agree to be his wife.

He looked up when Chibs, Tig, Happy, and Bobby came into the clubhouse, laughing and talking. Chibs came up to him and put his arm around Jax’s shoulders.

“Tonight’s the night, right Jackie boy?” He asked.

Jax laughed. “Maybe.”

“Maybe? How much longer are you gonna make us wait?” Tig asked, moving behind the bar and grabbing a few shot glasses.

“Make you wait?” Jax asked, still laughing. “Fuck off, Trager.”

“Never thought I’d see Jax shy away from a woman,” Bobby joked, sliding the now-full shot glasses over to the rest of them.

“I ain’t shying away from shit, fat boy,” Jax took his shot in one gulp.

“So do it tonight,” Tig said, shrugging as he refilled the glass, “Gemma says she’s gonna be throwing a big party tonight, everyone’s gonna be here.”

Jax tapped his fingers on the bar. “Yeah,” he nodded, “Yeah, I’ll do it tonight.”

The guys cheered, throwing their shot glasses up. Tig actually giggled as he filled them up again.

“Just don’t puss out, man,” Happy cautioned, tipping his glass to Jax.

“I won’t brother,” he promised—and he meant it, “I won’t.”

By the time you got to the clubhouse to help Gemma set up, the guys were all gone. You didn’t ask where they were—you never did—you just helped put the tables together and get the place ready for the party. Some of the other girls were there, and they all gave you and Gemma a certain width of respectful distance, only coming up to you to ask if there was anything else they could do. You were still getting used to that—everyone knew you were with Jax, and they treated you accordingly. He was the VP, after all, and he had an…explosive temper. But then again, so did you.

“Baby,” Jax had one hand up and the other in his hair, pushing the blonde locks back, “You gotta talk to me, what’s going on?”

You were in his dorm, slamming as much of your stuff as possible into the big ass purse Gemma had gotten you for your birthday a few weeks back. “Fuck all the way off, Teller,” you growled, shoving one of your shirts into the bag.

“Hey, hey,” he came up behind you, grabbing you by the elbow and spinning you around, “You gotta talk to me, Y/N, I have no idea what’s got you so pissed.”

“Oh, you don’t?” You asked, pushing his chest, “So you have no idea why some sweetbutt is out there wearing MY goddamn shirt? You have no clue how she got something that was in your room and how it got on her body?!” You yelled, pushing him again even though he didn’t move from the action.

Jax blinked. “What—what the hell are you talking about? Some chick’s got the same shirt as you, so you flip your shit at me?”

“No, she’s wearing my shirt that was in your room,” you glared up at him, “So tell me how she got in your room, Jax!”

Jax took a breath. He understood where your anger was coming from, but it was all a misunderstanding. Still, if some guy was walking around in one of his shirts that he’d left at your place, he’d be beyond pissed too. “Y/N,” he spoke carefully, “I swear, I have no idea how this happened.” He watched the doubt, confusion, and hurt flash through your eyes and set his jaw. “But I’m gonna find out.”

You had followed him down into the club and watched as he scanned the small crowd until he saw her. Jax stomped over to her, grabbing her and pushing her against a table. Glass shattered as it hit the floor, and the girl gasped at Jax’s roughness. He pushed his finger into her face and glared down at her. “You got two seconds to open that rancid mouth and tell me where you got that shirt,” he growled.

“I—I got it from your room,” she stammered, eyes wide, “I wanted to surprise you, but one of the other girls saw me and made me leave, I—I just wanted you to notice me, so I took the shirt, I didn’t know—”

“—didn’t know that it belonged to my Old Lady? That I belong to my Old Lady?” He yelled back. “Take that fucking shirt off and get out—NOW!” He roared.

Teary-eyed, she took the shirt off and threw it on the floor. You didn’t move to grab it, you didn’t even want it anymore. The girl turned to run off, but Jax grabbed her by the wrist and stopped her.

“You upset my lady,” he said, voice low, “Apologize.”

She turned to you, lip quivering in a way that was meant to be devasting but fell flat. “I—I’m sorry. I was just trying to get Jax’s attention…”

“And then his dick, am I right?” You asked, stepping up and balling your fist. You felt the anger course through you—you were so sick and tired of chicks like her, coming out of the woodwork and trying to get with your man. None of them really cared about Jax, none of them were equipped to deal with his lifestyle, none of them wanted him for the man he was—they just saw the kutte, not the man. “I’m gonna say this once,” you told her, “And I want you to listen close and tell all the other little kittens that Jax Teller is mine, and if I see your face around here again, I’m gonna break into your house, bathe you in gasoline, and light you on fire.” You smiled, all teeth, and saw her shrink away in fear. “We clear?”

“Y—yes,” she stammered, taking a few small steps back, “I am so, so sorry, Mrs. Teller!” And with that, she was gone.

Jax laughed, wrapping his arm around you and placing a kiss to the side of your head. “Mrs. Teller, huh?” He threw you a wink. “I like the sound of that.”

You rolled your eyes, not telling him that you liked it, too. “Let’s go put my shit back, Teller,” you said, “and then we’re getting a fucking lock for your door.”

After that, your issues with the other girls became pretty much non-existent. You liked the easy rhythm you and Jax had fallen into; there were still things about his lifestyle that were hard for you to grasp, but you knew there wasn’t another person on this planet who loved you more, or who you wanted to be with. So when he walked into the warehouse, followed by his brothers, laughing with his head thrown back, you smiled. Just the sight of him, just the sound of his laughter made you happy. Your grin widened when Jax looked up and locked eyes with you. You heard Gemma sniff from behind you, and when you turned to look at her, she was dabbing her eyes with her sleeve.

“Gem?” You stepped over to her, concern clear in your voice. “You alright?”

She nodded, opening her arms to pull you into a tight hug. “Everything’s fine, baby,” she said, smiling as she stepped back, “I’m just so happy to have you is all.” She reached over and pressed a kiss to your temple. “I’m happy you’re with my Jackson.”

You smiled back, a little confused, but happy. “Me too, Gem.” You giggled when you felt a pair of strong arms wrap around you, and the smell of leather and cigarettes and pure, unbridled man hit you. “Hi Jax.”

“Hey darlin’,” he said against your lips, he looked up and grinned at Gemma, “Hey, Mom.”

“Hi, baby,” Gemma smiled back, “I’m gonna go get the cake ready.”

“Cake?” You asked, but Gemma was already rushing back to the kitchen, snapping her fingers at two Croweaters and demanding they follow her. You looked over at Jax, who was licking his lips and running a hand through his slicked back hair. “We got a cake?”

He shrugged. “Eh, who knows with Gemma?” He put an arm around your waist and pulled you closer. “Come outside with me?” He asked.

You nodded, letting Jax lead you outside to the picnic tables. He was acting a little strange, he kept looking behind him, and you could swear you saw Opie, Bobby, Chibs, Tig, and Juice peeking in through the window. You sat on the table, hands folded in your lap, as Jax took out a cigarette and lit it. He walked in front of you, pacing, and you knew he was building himself up to say something. You decided to give him a little push.

“Missed you today,” you said, smiling.

He smirked. “That’s the goal, sweetheart.”

You leaned forward a bit, giving him a little glimpse at your cleavage. “Did you miss me?”

Jax laughed, tossing his cigarette to the ground and stomping it out. “Course I did,” he answered, “That’s why I lured you out here.”

“I thought you just wanted me out here to steal my virtue.”

He stood over you, kissing your nose with a smirk. “Already did. And I ain’t ever getting it back.” He kissed you, lips soft and gentle on yours. “Gotta ask you something,” he said, mouth still on yours, “and I want to ask you the right way, but… I can’t give you a speech.”

“Okay,” you cocked an eyebrow, “I don’t need a speech. Just ask me.” You put both hands on his face, forcing him to meet your eyes. “You know I’d do anything for you.”

Jax let out a breath. You’d never seen him like this before—you’d seen him anxious before, you’ve seen him question himself before, but this… He seemed genuinely nervous. “Tell me you love me,” he said, voice soft.

“I love you,” you said.

He smiled. “I love you, too.” He took another breath before taking a step back…and getting down on one knee.

You stood up, eyes wide, barely registering the intake of breath from inside of the clubhouse (you were pretty sure you heard Tig say “yay!”). You watched as Jax reached into his pocket and took out a small blue box, your heart pounding. He popped the box open to reveal a gorgeous rose-gold ring with a huge diamond in the center and several other diamonds leading up to it. It took your breath away.

“Marry me,” Jax said, voice steady but eyes full of energy, “I love you. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, and I need you. Marry me, Y/N.”

You clasped your hand over your mouth, feeling tears spring to your eyes, and nodded vigorously. You let out a laugh behind your hand when you saw the smile on Jax’s face. “Yes!” You were crying now. “Yes!”

Jax stood up and grabbed you, pulling you into his arms and kissing you as he spun you around. You heard cheering, clapping, and laughter in the background, and before you knew it, you were engulfed in a sea of giddy bikers hugging and congratulating you while Gemma held a huge cake with the Reaper saying “WE’RE GETTING MARRIED” in black frosting. You buried your face in Jax’s shoulder, wordlessly telling him how much you loved him and how grateful you were to have him in life.

Jax pulled back, grinning, and slid the ring onto your finger. Neither of you said anything, you just kissed, blissful and happy and in love, as your friends—and family, now—cheered you on. You knew that this was exactly where you belonged. This was exactly where he belonged.

And even though neither of you ever said it, you knew exactly where this was headed…

…a happily ever after.

******************************************************************************************

The end! Heh heh, comments and reblogs are super duper appreciated. Thanks for reading! Here’s the pic of the ring, if you were curious (I’m bad at jewelry, so I just picked the first one that caught my eye lol)

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#jax teller x reader #jax teller imagine #soa #charlie hunnam

[foxydivaxx]

Abel and Cain Chapter 4

I owe you all this chapter so here we go.

Iblis and Beelzebub snicker as they walk down the hallway of the dorm. They had just finished terrorizing some of the students there and it was so much fun. Although Beelzebub can be a bit of a blubbering idiot, he can be competent when they] get down to business. “Hehe. That was pretty refreshing ya know? Seeing their faces.” Says Iblis with a sadistic smirk in place. 

“Is that so?” 

The two Demon Kings stopped in their tracks. The last thing they wanted was to bump into their older brother Samael or any of the other Demon Kings. But alas, the Demon King of Time was right behind them with their three brothers. 

“What are you doing here?!” Iblis snarled. Mephisto folds his arms. “Same question we ought to ask you given your meddling.” He says in a stern tone. Beelzebub cowers in fear. Shit. I hope he does not know the truth!!

“H-Hey….d-don’t ya think you are taking things outta context?” says Beelzebub in his usual cowardly manner. Amaimon glares at him. “Those wounds inflicted on Kirigakure….surely that can’t be any of our minions or familiars. Those seem to be your handiwork. Or are we lying?” Astaroth says as he scrutinizes his brothers. Wherever those two bumbling idiots go, there is always some form of mischief involved.

“Tch!! What’s the big deal over that anyways?” says Iblis. “To you, it may not be a big deal but you do know that I am the Headmaster of this school and if anything happens to the staff, I would be the first suspect due to my demonic heritage.” Says Mephisto as he squints at his brothers who simply keep quiet.

“Ah Mr. Pheles, fancy seeing….” Yukio stops in his tracks as soon as he sees Mephisto and their other brothers. He figured that sooner or later the Headmaster would figure out their wicked game. However, he can still manipulate things for a while until the jig is up. “Am I interrupting something?” he asked, using his acting skills to feign innocence despite being the one that brought the duo there.

Mephisto simply shakes his head with a fake smile in place. He had always been suspicious of Yukio for a while and would need to keep a close watch on the boy just to see what mischief he gets up to. That is if his theory on the boy turns out to be true.

“Oh just saw these two miscreants here and was having a chat is all.” He said. Yukio nods. “Ah well if you excuse me, I have a couple of errands to run.” With that, he walks off. Once Yukio was out of earshot, Mephisto then turns to his brothers. “You both better leave these premises or else..” With that, he and the other two Demon Kings walk off.

“That was close.” Says Iblis, heaving with a sigh of relief. “You both were not smart.” They whip around in shock to see Yukio standing there, arms folded. “B-But you said you had errands to run…” says Beelzebub, earning a knock in the head from Iblis. Yukio simply rolls his eyes. “I am shocked that Mephisto did not see through my deception or magic. So-Called King of Time manipulation.” He says. He then smirks. “But no matter. This will make our game even more fun…”

Meanwhile, Rin, Paku and Izumo were in the limo on their way to Mephisto’s mansion. “So what next Rin?” Paku asked. Rin raises an eyebrow. “You mean like whether I would continue with Exorcist stuff right?” Paku nods. Izumo leans forward, waiting for his reply.

Rin then sighs. “To be honest with you. Even I don’t know. Part of me wants to continue and another part of me wants to take a different path. The question now is which path.” 

“Do not rush yourself. You will figure it out eventually.” Says Izumo. Rin then smiles softly. “You know Izumo. I prefer people like you because at least you are honest about shit unlike the other pussies in that class.”

Izumo chuckles. “Me? Oh, come on. Sometimes it isn’t nice to be brutally honest.” She says. “But sometimes it is necessary.” Says Paku. 

“Depends on some people. Back then, I used to think that it was better to be nice but now I learned the hard way that niceness does not help anyone. One needs a thick skin to survive in this world.” Says Rin. 

Izumo then turns to him. “Heard that you had a rough childhood.” Rin nods. “Yeah. Was called a demon even before finding out that I was one.” Izumo then looks down. “I can relate since I got bullied as a child not just because of my eyebrows. But also because I was able to see spirits from a young age. Curse of being a descendant of shrine maidens.”

Rin then looks at her, a sad expression on his face. No wonder she is often a bitch to others. I guessed as much. “I understand that feeling well. This world is so cruel at times. No matter what good one does, people would shit on your efforts like there’s no tomorrow.”

As soon as he says those words, Mephisto and the other Demon Kings arrive. “So anything?” Rin asked. “Nothing yet though we still have our suspects who so happen to be the other Demon Kings.” Says Astaroth. “Except Lucifer. Lucifer has his own separate agenda but Iblis and Beelzebub like to mess around at times so they are the main suspects.”

“But why Mrs Kirigakure?” says Paku. “There is no way those two would attack her unless….someone who hates her struck a deal with them.” Says Izumo. “Someone like Yukio.” The others stare at him. “Why do you think it is your brother?” Izumo asked.

Rin lets out a mirthless laugh. “I know that fool like the back of my head. You see, the two of us have always been rivals right from day one and always tried to upstage each other. My biggest mistake was ever showing that boy mercy. Now, I am no longer the merciful Rin that I used to be.”

A devilish smirk appears on the older Okumura twin’s face, something that scares the girls a bit. “I miss being the bad boy that I once was.” He then begins pacing around. “Now we agreed to not attend the funeral. However, there is only way to truly confirm my suspicions about Yukio and his possible meddling and I believe you can help me here Mephisto.”

Mephisto raises an eyebrow. “How so?” Rin’s smirk broadens. “Oh it’s that simple but Izumo and Paku might not like what I am about to suggest…”

Weeks later, Shura’s funeral is held at True Cross Academy and Rin, Izumo and Paku kept their word and chose not to attend the funeral, a move that did not sit down well with the other Exwires. “So he actually made good on his promise, that good for nothing bastard!!” Bon yells angrily. A couple Exorcists glare angrily at them. “Hey keep it down. We are at a funeral. No need to act disrespectful.” Konekomaru warns him. Shiemi meanwhile keeps on sobbing. Yukio who was next to her, holds her close and pretends to comfort her.

Hmmmph….the foolish girl. She would be the perfect pawn for my game. Just need the right opportunity.

Mephisto attended and keeps a close eye on Yukio. So far, nothing out of the ordinary unless said boy was just being very cautious and if he is, then he is truly smarter than they would give him credit for. But probably not as smart as Rin actually is when he decides to drop the sweet act and actually shows his true colours.

Will have to check in on that boy later.

Once the funeral was over, Shiemi prepares to take her leave when Yukio calls out to her. “Ah Yuki.” She says in a soft tone, a sad smile on her face. Yukio plasters his signature friendly smile. “Say, mind coming over to my house for some tea? You look like you could do with some company.” He says. “O-Oh…yeah sure.” She stutters as she runs over to him and follows him to the dorm.

Meanwhile in Gehenna, Rin and Mephisto arrive in Hell. Satan who was seated on his black throne stares at them in amusement. “Oooh…..what’s this? You brought Rin here?” Mephisto smirks. “Actually Father, Rin wishes to speak to you.”

“Really? What a change in character.” The King of Gehenna says as he carefully watches his son. He is aware of the animosity between the twins and the chaos that unfolded following Rin’s heritage getting exposed. What baffles him was how Rin bore the brunt of the hate and Yukio never once got heat for that.

Rin steps forward, all the demons staring at the boy cautiously in order to see what the boy would do next. The boy stops in front of his father’s throne. “How much do you know about Yukio?”

Satan then nods. Of course, the child would ask him that and he deserves to know. “Enough to know that he is a menace to all.” He then raises from his seat, his imposing height looming over his son’s. “I am aware of the nefarious activities of that boy alongside Iblis and Beelzebub.”

“Just as I suspected.” Says Mephisto. Rin simply glares at his father. “I thought that the fool came to you for powers.” Satan scoffs at that. “Him? Come to me? Bah!! That boy already had powers ever since he was a baby and had always been good at deception right from birth. He had been manipulating not just you but also your earthly father too.”

As soon as Rin heard this, he clenched his fist. This is what happens when you become too trusting of others and allow them to manipulate you. “That bastard will pay for this!!” Satan raises an eyebrow. “And what do you intend to do son? That boy might turn True Cross into an actual army and wage a war against us at Gehenna.”

Rin simply smirks. “Simple. We fight fire for fire and also prepare ourselves should he be planning what I believe it is he could be planning.”

This chapter was a lot harder to write than I thought.

#blue exorcist #ao no exorcist #fanfiction #rin okumura #shiemi moriyama #izumo kamiki #yukio okumura #bon suguro #shima renzou #konekomaru miwa #mephisto pheles #amaimon #astaroth #beelzebub

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

Ladybird, Ladybird

[Ficlet set during The Beginning, more or less canon-compliant.  Title from the children’s rhyme.]

For the first time after the war, Jean has a good dream about Tom.  Nothing special or particular, just a dream of lying in out on the sun-soaked lawn on a Saturday morning with her chubby six-year-old pushed up against her body, wiggly and snuggly.  No day in particular, she doesn’t think.  Just an aggregate: memory, imagination, longing.

“Ladybug, ladybug, fly away home...” he sings in her dream, pulling petals from a flower one by one.  Jean doesn’t have the heart to tell him that he’s doing it wrong.

For a long time the dreams were of him crying out somewhere Jean couldn’t reach to help.  It wasn’t hard to figure out what those dreams meant.  They started too late, but they warn her anyway.  That her little boy was hurt.  That he was in pain.  That even as he sat across the kitchen table with the corners of his mouth pulled into a smile, he was begging her for help so loudly that the black thing inside him had to hurt him just to shut him up.

Mommy, I’m hurt.  Mommy, I’m scared.  Help me, Mommy.

And Jean didn’t hear, back then.  She didn’t know.  She couldn’t fling herself halfway out of bed the way she did the other night.  Half-asleep, half-frantic, murmuring to Steve, “Just gotta check on the boys—”  Before she remembers.  That Tom is dead.  That Jake...

Jake doesn’t need her help anymore.

Anyway, Jean wakes gently this time.  And she thinks maybe this is the first sign of healing.  That maybe she’s crested to that place where the memories become treasures rather than shards.  She’s heard that can happen, from her counseling group.

The dream was still sad, of course.  The memory of it, slanting gold sun over Tom’s tiny fists and dark curls, awakes an emptiness inside her.  It probably always will.

Because that’s what grief is: a thousand shades of regret.  Sometimes even regret for the regret.  “I just want to stop feeling this way,” Jean told her therapist once, before slamming her hand over her mouth too late to keep the words inside.

It’s been almost two years.  Maybe it’s time for it to start to hurt less.

“Jeannie?  You all right?”  Steve sits up next to her now, fumbles to slide his glasses on so that he can make out her expression.

“Sure.”  She presses a hand to her face, unsurprised to find last night’s salt tracks painted on her cheeks.  “Sure, honey.  I’ll get breakfast going, yeah?  You get Jake up this time.”

****************

There are four chairs at their kitchen table, still.  Again, Jean reaches down four plates before breakfast.  Again, she finds she lacks the strength to lift and put the extra one back.

It sits there on the counter, more often than not, a silent testimony throughout their meals.

“Thanks, Mom,” her son’s murderer says.  He smiles up at her, mouth still full of pancake.  “These are really good.”

****************

It was a mercy kill, according to the newspapers.  Or else, it was self-defense.  When feeling charitable, Jean thinks defense of an innocent life might apply.  But then, who’s innocent?  Tom was, when Rachel’s blow cut through his spine.

“That’s great, sweetheart,” Jean says, no inflection to her voice.

Jake sets the scrap of gilded aluminum on the mantelpiece and walks away.  It’s a Medal of Honor.

Apparently that’s the going price for fratricide, these days.

****************

“Ladybug, ladybug, fly away home,” Tom recites in her dreams.  He crouches over a blade of grass with the kind of intensity only a four-year-old can muster.  “Your house is on fire, your children all gone.  All but the little one, asleep in his bed.  Fly away now, before he is dead.”

I know, Jean thinks, when she wakes.  Baby, I know now.  It’s not enough, it’s too late.  But at least now she knows that all along her home did burn.

****************

The rabbi speaks of the deaths of the firstborn.  How the Angel of Mercy came through Egypt, and took the eldest son from every home.  How that was what it took to be free.  How the Israelis had to learn to cling tight to what they had left, even when flung from their homes.

Jean doesn’t think of Passover, when she looks at Jake.  She doesn’t think of Teshuva.  She thinks of God asking after Abel: Where has your brother gone?  Thinks of how Cain had one last chance to repent and confess, and of how pride made him refuse.

Eve cast him out, after that happened.  She had no choice, really, with her baby’s blood crying out from the land.

****************

There’s footage of her son’s death.  Footage, and everyone has seen it.  Jean only knows because her sister-in-law called to tell her.

Rage choked Naomi’s voice through the tears, that whole conversation.  “How dare they,” Naomi said.  “How dare those bastards think they can... they can...”

It was a mercy kill, CNN says, or it was love, or at least he tried.

Anyway, she’s not surprised that they dare.  That her coworkers, her greengrocer, her next-door neighbors have all watched her son die, somewhere between the weather and the six o’clock news.  It fits, given the way they look at her and then look away.

****************

Jake gives her things all the time, these days.  He custom-orders a new lawn mower.  Slides million-dollar checks across the kitchen counter.  Sets a twenty-carat diamond gifted by the Queen of England into the hand-carved bowl for Jean’s car keys.

(Jean snatched the diamond out, the instant he left the room.  It’d felt like blasphemy; the letters T-O-M-M-Y carved on the underside of the bowl made it no place for such blood money.  She dropped the jewel in the trash, not knowing what else to do.)

Today it’s something new.  Today, Jake presses an envelope onto the table between her and Steve.  “It’s upstate a little ways,” he says.  “Santa Barbara.  You don’t have to move if you don’t want, but I paid it off in full, and I figured...”

Figured what, Jean would like to know.  Figured that they’d abandon their home, abandon its memories of Tom, in exchange for this latest guilt gift?

“Thanks, kiddo.”  Steve sounds like he means it, which hurts.  “This means a lot.”

****************

Jean is running up the stairs before she consciously registers why.  It is daytime, and there was a noise from Tom’s room.  She’s awake.  But she heard the half-muffled sob, and it came from the empty bedroom at the end of the hall.

It’s the middle of the afternoon.  She’s not dreaming.  Her baby is calling out to her, and she can reach him.

When she wrenches the door open, she freezes.

Jake stands amidst the wreckage of Tom’s things.  A box sits at his feet, half filled with t-shirts and basketball trophies.  The tears on his face are fresh-flowing, badly muffled.

“What are you doing in here.”  Jean’s voice comes out hard-edged and cold.  And also: how dare you.  How dare you.

It was all arranged, exactly how it should be.  Clothes in the closet.  Gameboy in the desk drawer.  Bed made.  All his things where they belonged.

Jake moved it all.  Jake touched it.  Defiled it.  Ruined it.

“I was just...”  Jake swallows hard.  Rubs a hand over both cheeks.  He’s still got one of Tom’s sweatshirts in hand; how dare he.  “Just figured we could sort through all this, see what makes sense to keep when we move and what...”

“Get out.”  Jean doesn’t recognize the woman speaking with her voice.  All she knows is this: she’s giving it all up.  Motherhood has brought her nothing but pain.  It’s high time she relinquished it.  She will box up Tom’s things to donate or destroy.  She will make the call about what stays, and she will get rid of the things that need to go.

Starting with Tom’s killer.

“Get out,” she says again.

“Yeah.”  Jake takes a breath.  “Yeah.  Okay.  Sorry, I’ll let you finish up.”

GET OUT OF MY HOUSE, she screams inside, when she realizes he doesn’t understand.  GET OUT OF MY LIFE.  “You’re eighteen,” she forces herself to say.  “It’s high time you found your own place.  And goodness knows you can afford it.  Your father and I will take the house in Santa Barbara.  You can find your own place.”

Something happens on Jake’s face then.  Something vulnerable breaks.  Stops being wounded, because now it is dead.

She’s ready, now.  To stop being Mom, to anyone or anything.  To box up her sons and throw them away.  To learn, all over, what it is to be Jean.  Jean with the potted plant on her desk.  Jean who leaves little presents for the sanitation workers.  Jean the writer.  Jean the wife.  Jean, herself and nothing else.  She’s done with pain.  Done with love.  Done with Mommy, help me.

It takes Jake less than a day to pack up and leave.  Neither of them explains it to Steve.

****************

Fool, fool.  Your house is on fire.

It’s Steve who answers the door, when the cops’ hard knock shatters the quiet of their new kitchen.  Steve whose voice wavers as he says, “What do you mean, missing and presumed?”  Steve who whispers, “Thank you for taking the time.”

Steve who holds her, when the air leaves her body as a senseless scream of disbelief and pain.  When she rocks on the floor, moaning, whimpering, like a wounded animal.

Jean, you fool.  Fool, to think she could cut him out of her heart.  What a fool, to think she could ever not care.

Jake.  Jake.  Her baby boy.  Her clumsy, solemn, second child.  Her only son.

Ladybug, ladybug, fly away home, Steve once recorded Tom saying, his little voice lisping, the tape hissing.  All but the little one, asleep in his bed.  Fly away now—

But she never dreams about it again.  The warning only lasted while there was still time to warn her.

Instead she sleeps, and hears both their voices crying in the night.

#animorphs #animorphs fic #animorphs spoilers #jean berenson #jake berenson #tom berenson #hypnagogic hallucinations #grief #trauma #emotional neglect #creepy children's rhymes #tom my darling #the beginning #ficlet #major character death

[buckyscrystalqueen]

Found

Pairings: Ex-Jax x Reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff, domestic abuse for a minute.... fuck, y’all I hate warnings!

Word Count: 3,429

A/N: So y’all really didn’t ask for it but you got a continuation of ‘Running’.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Abel, stay close, please.” You called out to your five year old as you picked up your one year old daughter, Charlotte, from the stroller on the first day of Abel’s summer break.

“Mumma, I go slide.” Thomas said in his half American, half English accent as the three year old slid out of his seat, and ran off to join his brother.

“Stay with Abel.” You told him as you ran your fingers through your dyed, dark red hair, pulled it over your shoulder, and walked a few steps over to the swing set. Your oldest, who had become the most caring, compassionate, and patient little boy in the world in the two years you had been in England, stopped on the steps to wait for his brother as you put your baby girl in the left most swing in the set so you could see the boy’s favorite slide.

“Are we swinging?” You asked little Charlie. Her smile was infectious as she kicked her legs and laughed at you. “Yea, we’re swinging.”

“Mama, watch!” Abel yelled as he sat down behind Thomas on the slide. You looked up and yelled ‘woo’ for the boys as they slid down the spiral slide together. “Good job! You gunna do it again?” The two brothers nodded and raced each other back around the playground to get to the stairs again. Just like you did each and every day you went to the park by your house with your children, watching them play and just be kids without having to worry about someone coming to kidnap them or a drive by shooting because of who their father was, you let out a sigh of relief.

“Mumma!” Charlie screeched with a laugh as she whacked her chubby fist on the front of the swing chair. Your smile grew as you took a step to the side and looked down at her.

“What? What are you doin?” You growled playfully. You held the swing in place for a moment and gave her a few loud kisses on the cheek so she would laugh loudly and whack at your face. With a laugh of your own, you stood up straight and went back to pushing her for a little while longer before you took her down the baby slide.

——

“Yea?” Jax asked into his phone as he walked away from the Red Woody door toward his bike. 

“Teller?” A voice asked. “Toby Anderson, Manchester charter. Listen, my old lady and I were at the park today with my boy. Saw a young red head with two little boys, and a little girl… She had a crow on the back of her left shoulder.” Jax’s stomach turned violently, and he felt his blood run cold as he stopped in the middle of the parking lot.

“The boys… how old…”

“One looked to be about five and the other three, maybe four. Little girl was no older than a year. She called one of ‘em Abel…”

“You fucking sure about that?” Jax said as he kneeled down, and put his hand on the hot asphalt to keep himself from falling over.

“I’d bet my kutte on it, brother.” Tears welled in the president’s eyes as he nodded his head.

“I want eyes on her.” He choked before he cleared his throat and sat back on his heels. “But my wife is smart. Keep your distance, no kutte’s, no bikes. She will spot you, and she spooks easy. I’ll take the first flight out I can get.” Jax looked over at Chibs as he hung up the phone and shook his head. “She has my kids in Manchester. (Y/N)… she has Abel and Thomas… and my daughter…”

“A’righ’, le’s go.” Chibs said as he helped Jax to his feet. “Le’s get a flight out’a ‘ere…”

“Just me.” He said with a shake of his head. “I need to do this…”

“I’m no’ lettin ye go alone, Jackie. ’s’not ‘appenin.” With a nod of his head, he grabbed his helmet from his motorcycle.

“We gotta go now. Before she moves them again.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Thomas, don’t climb up the slide.” You scolded as you changed Charlotte on the park bench. You put your hand on your daughter’s stomach and turned to look at him with your eyebrows raised. “One…” In typical Thomas fashion, he sighed dramatically and flopped down on the slide on his stomach. “That’s what I though.” You said with a nod as you went back to changing your little girl. You looked up again at the woman about your age that had been leaning against her black SUV since you arrived at the park as she dropped her fourth cigarette on the ground and finally went around to get in her car. You picked up Charlie carefully as an unease washed over you.

“Abel…” You called out hesitantly as the woman drove off. “Thomas, it’s time to go…”

“Daddy!” Abel cheered as he slid down the slide his brother had just tried to climb up, and went running. You lurched to your feet and whipped around as Jax crouched down behind you and picked up his oldest son. You felt Thomas slam into your legs and you put your hand on the back of his head as you held Charlie to your chest.

“(Y/N).” Your ex said as he walked over to you, as calm as could be. You shook your head, and slowly backed away from him, terrified of what he was capable of. He stopped directly in front of you, and put Abel down so he could reach out and take Charlotte from you.

“No… please…” You said as tears filled your eyes. He stayed deathly silent as he pulled his daughter from your arms and sat her on his hip.

“It’s time to go.” He said as he looked down at Thomas and held out his hand. “Come on, buddy.” You shook your head, and quickly picked up Thomas to keep him out of Jax’s reach.

“Give me back my daughter.” You nearly whispered as you searched Jax’s blue eyes. “Now.”

“We’re going home.” Was all he said as he grabbed your wrist and pulled you away from the jungle gym. “Let’s go, Abel.”

“It’s alright, Charlie.” You said to your daughter as she started to cry. “Mumma’s here.”

“For now.” Jax responded as he stopped long enough to put Charlotte in her stroller spot. “Abel, I won’t ask again!” Your oldest sighed and jumped down from the stairs. You scrambled to grab his arm but missed, which meant he ran to hold his dad’s hand instead. Never in your life had you actually been afraid of the man you had called your husband for almost ten years but in that moment, as he walked toward your car, and the car next to yours where Chibs was standing, with two of your three children in his reach, you were terrified.

——

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Jax yelled as he paced the kitchen of your home as you stood between him and the stairs that lead up to the three bedrooms of your fiancé’s house. “Think I’d give up looking for my kids?”

“I never thought that.” You said with a shake of your head. “All I thought about was getting my children away from the club and all the death and danger that came with it.”

“Oh, that’s bullshit.” He snapped. “They were never…”

“Don’t you fucking dare tell me they were never in danger, Jackson!” You screeched as you pointed behind you up the stairs. “Abel was kidnapped when he was a few months old and taken to Ireland by the IRA. I was kidnapped when I was pregnant with Thomas, and how can we fucking forget that both boys, the daughter I didn’t even know I was pregnant with, and I were almost blown up IN the supposedly safe clubhouse! So don’t you fucking dare tell me they were safe! They’re safe here!”

“No, you fucking kidnapped them.” He spat as he pointed at you. “You are the one who took them away from their father…”

“Jax, did you really not see how fucked up our son was?” You interrupted. “He brought a fucking knife for show and tell to fucking pre-school and told kids they needed to protect themselves.”

“Well they do…” Jax tried but you quickly shook your head.

“He was three years old, Jackson! He shouldn’t even know what fucking protection even meant…”

“The hell he shouldn’t!” Your ex tried but you continued.

“And Thomas? He was only one. After the bomb, he stopped eating, he stopped sleeping. He had night terrors for weeks after I brought him here. Weeks! His pediatrician was concerned that we were going to have to hospitalize him! He was just a baby! I almost miscarried our daughter from all the stress. So tell me how safe you think our children were.”

“You still had no fucking right to take my kids away from me!” He roared as the front door to your home opened behind you. “They are my Goddamn kids…”

“Not any more.” You said with a shake of your head as your fiancé, James walked quickly into the kitchen to find out what was going on.

“Who the bloody ‘ell are you?” He asked as he pulled you back a step behind him.

“Someone who’s taking my fucking kids home where they fucking belong.” Jax growled back as he grabbed a knife from the block on the counter and walked toward the stairs.

“You’re not touching one hair on my kids’ heads.”

“Jax stop.” You said as you forced yourself around James as he took a step back toward the stairs to protect the kids he had raised since a couple weeks after you got to the UK.

“Move.” He growled as he went to shove you out of the way.

“No!” You shouted as you pushed him a step back with all your might. You gasped and reached out to grab his shirt when he reflexively swung his arm out to stop you, sending the blade of your kitchen knife into your stomach. You felt the stainless steel cut easily through your skin just to the left of your belly button, and your muscles clenched around it, making it feel a thousand times worse. You let out another guttural gasp and stumbled a couple steps in sheer agony as he dropped the knife and grabbed your arms.

“Fuck! FUCK! Baby, I’m sorry! No!” Jax shouted as he pulled you into his arms and gently laid you down on the tile floor. Tears welled in your eyes as your blood pooled under your palms on your stomach. You tried to catch your breath and looked over to find your fiancé’s face as he ripped off his work suit jacket and balled it up.

“Move your hands, love. Move ‘em for me.” He said softly as he put his hands on your stomach, and pressed the material into your wound.

“Ba-bies…” You tried as Jax scrambled to find some mail or something with your address on it to give to the emergency operator.

“They’re alright, my love. It’s OK.” He said as he kneeled down beside you, fighting his own tears. “I’ll call my mum to take them when the paramedics come.”

“(Y/N), I’m so sorry.” Jax tried as he took off his flannel button down to help but your fiancé, who knew all about your ex husband and all your family had gone through because of him, glared at him, threateningly.

“Don’t you think you’ve done enough?” He snapped. “Piss off, mate.” Jax nodded his head as you took a strangled gasp, and held on to James’ wrist.

“I l-love…” You tried as your vision started to tunnel.

“Stay with me, my love.” James said as Jax got up and ran to get the door to let the medics in before going to tell Chibs to keep the kids upstairs until your mother in law got there. Your eyes darted over to find his and a small smile pulled at your lips.

“Thank you.” You whispered before you lost consciousness.

——

“…Did you eat all your vegetables?” You heard James ask quietly from somewhere close but seemingly so far away. “Well, you know you can’t have any brownies until you’ve finished them, Abel… Yes, even if mummy is sick.” Your brow furrowed as you tried to figure out what happened and you whined as your mind started to catch up with the physical pain you were in. “Abel, let me talk to Nana.” He said over the squeak of a chair. “It’s alright, love. You’re in the hospital.” You shook your head, not understanding much of anything at that moment.

“Mum, I’ll call you later. She’s comin’ round. Make sure Abel finishes… thanks, Mum. I will. Love you, too.” You felt the bed dip at your hip as James sat down at your side and very gently picked up your hand. “I’m right here, (Y/N). You don’t have to wake up if you don’t want to. The kids are still with me mum. Been there all week…” Your brow furrowed even more as you finally forced your eyes open and looked at his blurry figure. He smiled broadly as a few tears fell from his eyes onto his blue button down shirt.

“Hi beautiful.” He breathed as he brushed your hair back off your face. “You came back to me.”

“What… hap…?” You tried, before cringing in pain.

“You were stabbed, baby.” He whispered. “It was an accident…”

“It hurts.” You groaned as you closed your eyes. 

“I know, my love. But they can’t give you anything for the pain. You’re pregnant, (Y/N).” Your eyes flew open and tried to focus on your fiancé as a mix of emotions flooded your soul.

“What?” He nodded his head, and cupped your jaw in his hand.

“Breathe for me, love. We’ll figure this out together.” You nodded in his palm and squeezed his hand, needing him to ground you. 

“Baby…” You whined in pain, fear, and happiness as tears fell on your cheeks and exhaustion hit you again. Your eyes fluttered as you tried to wrap your mind around everything and your fiancé nodded his head, and leaned forward to kiss your forehead.

“Get some sleep, darling. I’ll be right here.” You nodded your head once more and let your eyes fall closed as you snuggled into his palm. “I love you, (Y/N). It’s all going to be OK.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“… Look, I get that you don’t fucking like me.” Jax said a little loudly, pulling you from the dream you were having about walking on the beach with your family of four and James by your side. “I’m gone, alright. But you need to give this to her.”

“Give me what?” You groaned without opening your eyes. You sighed and pulled your heavy eye lids open as Jax stepped around James and came over to your bed.

“Baby, I’m so sorry.” He said as he pulled a chair over to sit beside you.

“I know.” You whispered as he set something your eyes couldn’t yet focus on on the bed by your leg. 

“You’re right…”

“I’m always right, Jax.” You breathed as you looked around for some water. As if he read your mind, your fiancé came over with a small glass of water. He told you to sip slow, as Jax nodded his head and ran his fingers through his hair.

“I know you are, babe.” He agreed. “You have been right since we were kids. You were right in saying that we shouldn’t legally get married. You were right in saying we shouldn’t bring kids into my world. You were right in getting them out and you were right in staying away from me.” You nodded your head and looked over at him as he picked up whatever he had brought with him and showed it to you. “It’s all the cash I could get Opie to send to me from the house. It’s a few hundred thousand and I know you left that shit behind on purpose but you need it…”

“Jax…” You tried but he shook his head.

“You need it.” He repeated as he held the cash up to James. “Take it.” With a glance down at your slightly annoyed sigh, and a moments hesitation, he took the cash from your ex. “I’m not coming back.” He finished as he looked back down at you. “I’m not seeing the boys before I go. I want you to tell them that I did this to you. No…” He said with a shake of his head when you opened your mouth to protest. “I’m a fucking monster (Y/N). I fucking stabbed the mother of my kids. And if you don’t fucking tell them, he will. I know he will.” He gestured to James, who was already nodding his head slowly. “You’re gunna tell all of them. Abel, Thomas, and our daughter…”

“Charlotte.” You whispered. He nodded his head and swallowed his feelings back, hard.

“You’re gunna tell them every single bad thing that I’ve put you through. All of it. I want them to fucking hate the idea of me. Thomas and Charlotte know him as dad… Abel will give into it one day, too. He’s obviously been a better father than I could ever be. So it’s for the best. You were right.” He said once more as he reached into his kutte pocket and pulled out a folded stack of papers. “So they’re yours.” You blinked a few times as he put the papers down on your thighs, and stood up from the chair. He searched your eyes with a sad, tight lipped smile and sighed. “I love you, (Y/N). But I hope I never see you again.” You closed your eyes and bowed your head as he gave you a chaste kiss on the forehead and walked out of the room. Tears welled in your eyes as James walked over and took the chair Jax had just vacated.

“I’m sorry, baby.” He whispered as he moved the papers off your lap so he could have his lawyer look at them later. “I know it hurts.”

“I just want it all to be over.” You cried, in both heart break and physical pain.

“It is, darling.” He said with a nod. “It’s all over now.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You could feel eyes on you as you stepped out of the church in your fitted mermaid dress, and they weren’t just the eyes of the hundreds of guests that attended your wedding behind you. You didn’t want to look, but you couldn’t stop yourself. Your eyes found those baby blues easily, leaning against a tree in the park across the street, sad, lost, lonely, but grateful all the same. His eyes left yours for a moment as Abel came running out of the church, calling for his dad, and you knew this was about to break your ex even more. 

“What are you doing?” James laughed as he turned and caught his son around the middle with a laugh.

“We can eat now, right dad?” The seven year old asked as he reached up his hand for your husband’s. James nodded his head as he picked up three year old Charlotte and headed down the stairs toward the waiting limo. You watched Abel wait long enough to take Thomas’ hand to help him down the stairs before looking back up at Jax. He nodded his head subtly, telling you so much in such a simple gesture, before he pushed off the tree and turned to walk away.

“(Y/N)?” Your mother in law, Anne said as she tapped your arm. “She wants you.” You put a smile on your face and a single tear fell from your eye as you turned to take one year old Grace from her arms.

“You ready to go dance?” You asked her as you fixed her light pink, ruffled dress over your arm and grabbed the hand rail and walked carefully down the stairs. “Let’s go dance, baby.” Your youngest giggled and reached up to play with your curls as you walked over to the limo.

“You alright?” James asked as he looked at your face in concern. You smiled and nodded your head as you glanced back up at the park.

“I’m perfect.” You said as you looked back at him. “I found my home.”

#Jax x Reader #Found #Running

[pixel-playstation]

McCaroll Ranch

Summary: Clementine is forever haunted by the memory of McCaroll Ranch. And after the horrors of the raider attack, Clem finally tells someone about her nightmare...and about an amazing man named Javier Garcia.

Clem sat silently on her bed, rubbing her tired eyes. Glancing at the empty bed in front of her, she released a sigh, shaking her head gently. Fuck.... fuck it went worse than any of them had hoped. Mitch was dead... The raiders took three of their own, Omar, Aasim...and Louis.

God, Louis. She panicked watching them take Violet. The girl had just saved her, she was being dragged away, Clem had to help her! But then they took Louis. The girl had thought of so many ways that she could've helped him...but that didn't matter now...just like it didn't matter with him...

The girl was brought back to a knock on the door, and turned towards it. "Come in." She spoke, half expecting it to be AJ. To her surprise though, it was Violet standing at the door. The blonde girl appeared just as tired as Clementine did. Concerned gray-green eyes looked over to her, a frown tugging on her lips. "Hey...are...are you okay?" Violet asked, folding her arms. Clem rose a brow seeing the blood staining Violet's pale hands, and tilted her head slightly. "How was interrogating Abel?" She asked. A scowl crossed Violet's face, "You didn't answer my question.". "Violet, they have three of our friends. We can't waste time worrying about me, we need to get them back!" Clem snapped.

Violet was caught off guard momentarily, before glaring at Clem, putting her hands on her hips. "You think your the only one worried Clem? They were our friends too, okay?! I'm sorry to say it like that, but we've been friends with everyone for eight years or longer!" Violet exclaimed. "I liked Louis!" Clem blurted out.

The two of them stood in a stunned silence, looking at each other. Fuck. Violet slowly spoke, "Was...did you, when you went with him to piano duty?" She asked. Clem gave a heavy sigh, sitting back on the bed. She lowered her head, sticking her fingers through her hair. "I... we kissed." Clem confessed with a deep inhale. "Holy shit." Violet gaped, looking at Clem, "But...you saved me.". Shit, why'd she have to ask that? Clem wanted to save Louis, but she hated the thought of giving anyone up. She didn't want to lose Louis, but she wouldn't give up Violet to take his place.

Noticing her silence, Violet gave a sigh, pushing her bangs out of her face. "You should get some rest." Violet spoke. "No... I... I can't." Clem uttered out, knowing she'd have that nightmare again. If it wasn't that one, it'd definitely be one about the raider attack. Violet noticed this, walking over to her friend, sitting by her on the bed. "You get nightmares, don't you?" Violet questioned. Clem looked at the girl besides her, and gave a sigh, maybe it was time to tell someone. AJ knew she had the nightmares, but he was too young when it happened. He only remembered the horrors. Closing her eyes, Clem began to reminisce, retelling the story.

"It was three years ago. I just turned 14, and AJ was only 2. We had been separated for a while now, and I was finally going to find him." There was no need to tell her all the old details about the New Frontier, "A friend I had made around that time promised to help me find AJ... his name was Javier Garcia...and I'm the reason he died.".

"Come on Clem, you walk any slower and we'll never get there." The girl scowled at the bearded man before her. "Fuck off Javi." The girl spoke, making the man chuckle. "Come on Clementine, I know you can do so much better than that." Javier smirked as he looked back at her, before continuing to walk. "Your the worst." Clem scowled. "If I was, would I be helping you find your kid?" He asked. The girl rolled her eyes, but a faint smile tugged at her lips. God, he was annoying.

The two of them continued walking down the road, searching for the ranch. "If Linguard's right, it should be just down this conjoined road." Javier stated, pointing at the dirt road leading off to an over grown forest area. Clem rose a brow to the area, folding her arms. "I don't trust it." She stated. "It's best we got." Javier retorted, walking with her down the dirt path.

Trailing down the path, the duo, mostly Clem, was shocked to find a ranch, looking rather intact, there. "It's really here." Clem uttered out. "Told you." Javier smiled, walking forward. The girl glanced around the ranch, getting an...off feeling, but for once she ignored it, just wanting to reunite with AJ already. Javier lead the way, approaching the main house of the settlement. Looking around, seeing no one, the man knocked on the wooden door. There wasn't a reply, and he turned to the red leather wearing girl shrugging. "Knock again?" Clem asked. Javier turned, hitting his fist on the door again, surprised as it swung open. "I swear I did not break it.".

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Clem pushed past Javier, looking into the dark house. Linguard spoke of this place like it was a paradise, but it just looked abandoned. Glancing around, Clem pulled out her knife, walking into the dark home. "Keep your focus up." Clem stated, moving forward, traveling up the stairs first. Javier guarded her from behind, wielding his iconic metal bat.

The two made their way up the stairs, searching for any sign of life. Or even any sign of AJ. Looking around, Clem froze hearing a faint crying. "AJ?" She gasped out, looking around. The girl walked forward, following the noise to the very end of the hallway. Her boots creaked against the wood with ever step she took, before finally stopping at the room. Keeping a firm grip on her knife, the girl twisted the nob, opening it to a nursery. Amber eyes frantically glanced around, until she heard the crying again, and saw the child in the crib.

"AJ!" Clem rushed forward, picking the child up, "It's okay, it's okay i'm here.". Tears ran down her eyes, as she gently bounced the child up and down in her arms, cradling him close to her body.

"You found him, how is that a nightmare? Your luckier than most of us here." Violet interrupted, making Clem frown. "Just wait.." Clem continued.

The girl was so focused on the reunion, she didn't even hear the walker growling as it came out of the closet. AJ let out a frantic whine, pointing, making the girl turn around wide eyed. The walker reached for her, but was knocked back by a metal bat. "Fucking muertos!" Javier growled, fighting off the walker as it latched onto him. Clem went wide eyed, turning to put AJ down so she can fight, when a loud scream made her turn.

Javier's screams echoed through the air, screaming as the walker dug it's teeth into the man's collar bone.

"JAVI!" With a feral cry of anger, Clementine impaled the walker in the head, kicking it off the man. Anger turned into worry as she turned to the man, in complete disbelief. Javier gasped in pain, a hand clasped over the bloody wound. "Oh my god, Javi, i'm sorry..!" She picked AJ back up, going to the man. He hissed in pain, leaning against the wall and looked at her with a pained smile. "You were right, he's a cute kid." Javi gritted out, clasping his injury tightly.

He was doomed, there was no way they could cut it off. Tears ran down the girls face, as she looked at the man. They had become close friends over the short time they knew each other. Biting back a sob, she spoke, "We need to get you back to Richmond.". He deserved to say goodbye to his brother and nephew... Taking a shaky breathe, Clem began walking, not giving the man any time to stop her. Releasing a sigh, Javi began following her, his skin already paling.

Clem stepped downstairs, and froze hearing loud growls. "Oh no." She gasped out. "If there was one walker...there's bound to be more." Javier grimaced, it was a fucking ranch, there had to be more people. Clem held AJ closer, pulling out her knife quivering, listening to the growls.

The girl went silent, staring at the wooden floor. Violet gave her a concerned look, putting a hand on her friend's back. "Clem...what happened?" Violet asked. "Javi...Javi never got out of the ranch." Clem breathed out, shaking.

"There's too many..!" Javier grunted, seeing the walker's swarming into the home. "Their blocking off the front door." Clem hissed out, gripping her knife, ready to fight, when Javi put a hand in front of her. "Go, check the back, there has to be an exit." Javi stated, gripping his bat. Clementine looked at the man wide eyed. "Javi, no..!" Clem pleaded. "Clem go, you got him back, you can't lose him this close!" Javi exclaimed, making the girl tense. Biting her lip, she held the baby the baby close, "I'm so glad I got to meet you." Without another look, the girl ran forward, clutching AJ. Rushing down the hall, she spotted a door in the kitchen. Violently pulling the sliding door open, Clem tensed hearing screams. Shutting her eyes, Clem rushed forward, leaving the ranch.

Violet stared at the girl stunned, in complete disbelief. Clem sat up, taking a shaky breathe as tears streamed down her cheeks. "I ran...and never looked back. I couldn't bring myself to go to Richmond...I just kept AJ...and left..."

#twdg #twdg final season #twdg anf #twdg s4 #twdg a new frontier #twdg clem #twdg clementine #twdg aj #twdg louis #twdg violet #twdg javier #my story

[featherquillpen]

Missing scene: “Abel or Cain”

So sometimes I write a scene in Dæmorphing from a character’s POV and then I realize it would be much better written from a different character’s POV. Here is an alternate take on a scene from Chapter 2 of Abel or Cain, when the Animorphs take Tom to the Hork-Bajir after rescuing him from the cabin. In the published version, this scene is told from Rachel’s POV. Here is the original version I wrote, from Toby Hamee’s POV.

Toby

They came with Jake’s brother, the Controller, in the late morning. We had a latrine dug for him, and an area of even ground shaded by a tree near a rill of fresh water where the Chee could pitch a tent for him. Elgat Kar and her welcoming committee were already planning a ceremony for him once he was free of his Yeerk, with necessary adjustments from the one they usually did for newly freed Hork-Bajir.

Two Chee, chrome and canine just as Tobias and Ax had described them, climbed down the steep valley wall, holding the unconscious young man and his dæmon, as if rock climbing while holding someone in a fireman’s carry were an everyday aspect of their lives. My people gathered to stare. Even prepared as I was by my mentors’ stories, I was amazed by the sight of them. Still, I tried not to look too impressed.

“Shiny metal people,” my mother said, looking up at them. “These are Chee friends?”

“Yes,” I said, projecting enough to make it an announcement. “These are Chee friends. They have Tom with them.”

Halfway down the cliff wall, the gazelle dæmon began to stir. Tom’s eyes opened. He stiffened when he saw where he was.

«Uh oh,» Tobias said above me. «He’s awake. Get ready to catch him at the bottom if he tries to make a break for it.»

“Hopefully he won’t be that stupid,” I muttered. Out loud, I said, “Tak! Meret! Peera! I need you ready to restrain the Controller. Be careful, friends. Tom is not as strong as a Hork-Bajir, so you don’t need to use as much force.”

The three warriors gathered at the bottom of the cliff, below the two Chee and their burden. But they turned out to be unnecessary. When Tom and his dæmon got down from the Chee’s shoulders, they both collapsed to the ground before they could take a step.

“He’s still weak,” one of the Chee said. It nodded to the warriors. “My name is Luis Javier Turner. I’m a Chee.”

My warriors introduced themselves. I came forward. “I’m Toby Hamee,” I said. “The Seer of my people.”

“An honor,” said Luis. “Why don’t you show us where to make our guest comfortable?” With that, Luis and its fellow Chee picked up Tom and his dæmon and followed me to the area we’d cleared. The Chee holding the gazelle dæmon passed her off to Tak Shipa, took off the large backpack it was wearing, and quickly set up a tent large enough for several tall humans to stand in. It took the dæmon back from Tak, and the two Chee brought the young human and his dæmon inside the tent and made arrangements.

“Where did the Chee learn how to camp?” said a voice behind me. I turned around. Marco, of course.

“You probably pick it up after the first thousand years or so,” said Rachel, tossing her long sheet of hair over her shoulder.

“They’ll be looking after him?” I said.

“Yes,” said Cassie. Everyone was here, now, except for Jake. “Until he can look after himself, I guess.”

“That could take a long time,” I said. “I’m not sure how it is for humans. But when we get young Hork-Bajir, who were infested as kids… it’s hard on them. They’re stunted, in a lot of ways. Are they in it for the long haul?”

“We’ll talk to them,” Loren said quietly.

“You’ll probably want to set up something more permanent than a tent,” I said.

“The Chee are in charge of that,” Marco said. “We’re suburban kids. We have no idea how to live in the woods. They know what’s up.”

“You’ll visit him,” I said.

“Duh,” Rachel said. Her dæmon’s eyes were intent and fierce. “He’s my cousin. I won’t let him live out here all alone. I mean, not alone. There’s you guys. But you know what I mean.”

“Before you go speak to him,” I said. “I have some advice, from dealing with Controllers in the past. Offer him a swift death and a water burial if he’ll come out right away. Death by starvation is a difficult and dreaded one for a Yeerk. And they believe their bodies belong in the water after they die. You might be able to free Tom right now if you cut a deal with his Yeerk.”

“Don’t the dead Yeerks poison your water?” Cassie said.

“I thought they might,” I said. “There’s a cave at the southern end of the valley with a little underground lake in it. That’s where we dump them.”

Marco rubbed his hands together. “All right. Let’s make a deal.”

Quincy flew over to Diamanta and spoke to her quietly, then landed back on Cassie’s shoulder.

“All right,” Marco said. “Cassie makes a deal.” All of them ducked inside the tent, except for Ax and Abineng, who were both too large. The three of us gathered around the open tent flap to watch the proceedings.

Tom was lying on some kind of soft surface the Chee had set up inside the tent, his dæmon curled up next to him. The light on him was yellow, filtered through the material of the tent. The Chee had their famed holograms up. Luis had the appearance of an old, dark-skinned man in somewhat professional clothing, while his companion looked like a young medium-skinned woman in plain dirty clothing.

The Controller looked up at the Chee and the Animorphs. “Human,” he said, wonderingly. “All human. Jake, his best friend, his cousin, his crush, whoever the rest of you are…”

Cassie knelt beside him. “Under your nose all this time. Think what Visser Three would do to you if he knew.”

“Tom remembers you as such a nice girl,” the Yeerk said mockingly. “And look at you now. Still, you’re right. He’d do much worse than the simple Kandrona starvation you have planned for me.”

“It doesn’t have to be Kandrona starvation,” Cassie said. “We can make it quick, if you let us. One second and it’ll be over. Then a proper water burial.”

“You think you’ve saved him, don’t you?” the Yeerk said coldly. In that moment, I could see the similarities to Jake clearly, the strong serious set of his brow. “You haven’t. He can’t be saved. I’ve broken him.”

“I think Tom ought to be the judge of that,” Cassie said evenly.

“Well,” said the Yeerk. “I guess this is only fair. I would have killed his father quickly, after all. And it was well done, I have to say. My superiors will never look for me.” He closed his eyes. A brown slime glistened in Tom’s ear, then expanded. The Yeerk. Cassie took it and tossed it to me. I sliced it in half with a swift cut of my wrist blade, and held the severed pieces in my fist.

Tom’s eyes fluttered open. He opened his mouth. Only a raw rasp came out.

“Tell him not to talk,” I whispered. “It’s too soon. He needs time. Someone just touch him. Give him something to connect to.”

Rachel nudged Cassie aside and took her place beside her cousin. She held his hand. “Shhhh. You don’t need to talk. I’ve got you, Tom. It’s me. It’s Rachel.” Abineng lowered his head and poked it in through the tent flap. “See, look, there’s Abineng. We’re here. We’ve got you. I won’t leave you, Tom.”

Tom closed his mouth. Tears flowed silently from his eyes. Such a strange human thing, tears, the body overflowing its salt water to make room for the pain inside. His hand lay limply in hers. But Delareyne stood up on wobbly legs and teetered over to Abineng like a newborn colt. He lowered his face and pressed it to hers.

“You’re free,” he said. “I’ll kill any Yeerk who tries to touch you, Del, I swear it. You’ll never be a slave again. You’re free.”

#daemorphing #animorphs #my fic