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chickensarentcheap · 3 years

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Never Gonna Be Alone

A Tyler Rake/Established Female OC fic

Summary: A lot changes in five years. Now a family of nine, the Rakes are splitting their time between Australia and New York City. With Dhaka nothing but a distant yet still painful memory and the dirty work mostly behind him, Tyler is healthy and thriving. Not only as a husband and father, but as the acting founder and boss of his own mercenary business and co-owner of his wife's well loved and flourishing bookstore. But while love and domestic happiness abound, the past and its secrets are never far behind.

Huge thanks and tons of love to @tragiclyhip for never letting me give up! It’s thanks to her I ever actually finished off the last fic, or started this one. And she also made my incredible banner! <3 <3 <3

Warnings: none

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @alievans007, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @tragiclyhip

Prologue

FIVE YEARS LATER

******

The stand sits fifteen feet above ground and wraps halfway around the gnarled and twisted trunk of a centuries old Kapok tree. No hunter has made use of it in years; the stairs leading upwards weakened by harsh weather and neglect, wood cracking and bowing under the soles of well worn combat boots. Despite the added weight of gear and a kevlar utility vest, long legs and a wide stride make it easy to navigate the missing steps. His movements are purposeful and quiet; careful to avoid even the slightest snap of a twig or the rustle of dried and fallen leaves or the scratch of dirt and pebbles against the pitted and fragile wood. Any sound is a detriment in this environment; the lush and dense landscape so eerily still and silent that even a hint of noise would seem deafening. The slightest of movement has the potential to stir up the wildlife, which in turn would draw unwanted attention upwards from the banks of the Mekong River.

Even under the thick and expansive umbrella of the forest the heat is stifling. Humidity oppressive and choking. A thin layer of sweat gathers on his brow; errants droplets burning his eyes and gathering on the ends of his lashes. His shirt -long sleeved to not only provide cover in the jungle but protect from scrapes and cuts and the burn of the sun- nearly soaked right through; darkened patches under the arms and at the small of the back, the fabric clinging to dampened and slick skin. Fine beads settle around his mouth, and when he drops into a crouch at the top of the stand, he swipes his tongue over his top lip in an effort to clear away the sweat. It had been an hour hike through the jungle; moving swiftly and silently as he listened to directions being given through a transmitter he sports in his left ear. It’s sweltering and he’s thirsty; head pounding and his hands begin to tremble as the beginning stages of dehydration begin to settle in. He takes the time to remedy the situation. Shrugging off the rucksack slung over his left shoulder and dropping it onto the floor of the stand; hands shaking yet able to tear open the zipper. There’s two bottles of water packed in amongst the gear; extra pairs of socks in case of treks through swamps and marshes, two full clips of ammo that will only be used if someone on the other side is able to pinpoint his location and launch a full scale and fully armed search.

He hopes it doesn’t come to that.

Downing half a bottle of water, he uses the remains to cool himself down; splashing a handful of the liquid against his face and then dumping the rest over his head. Ten years ago, the elements wouldn’t have bothered him as much; he would have been thirty seven years old and still in relatively good shape. Physically AND mentally. And despite a consistent and punishing routine of heavy lifting, core training, and cardio, he’s definitely feeling the effects of both age and decades of hard and often dangerous living. Knees stiff and aching from the brisk hike over rough terrain and then through mud and thick brush; the arthritis that takes up residence in the small of his back and the right hip making its presence known. He’ll be sore tomorrow; every step he takes will send pain shooting through him, and for the next week he’ll wonder just why the hell he ever said ‘yes’ in the first place. Each stiff movement and slow step and aching muscle will remind him of just how things HAVE changed over the years. Gone are the days when he could skip a few days sleep; able to function on both little rest and minuscule amounts of food and drink. There’s no way he’d be able to do THAT now; push his body to the limits he’d been testing for so long. That man no longer exists. The one that would take the most dangerous and unpredictable jobs in hopes of catching a bullet. Who’d almost pray, beg and plead each and every time he went out that it would be his last; one sniper’s shot away from finally being put out of his miserable existence.

Things changed, of course. When he’d been least expecting them to. There’s way too much to lose now. It’s why every decision he makes now...every movement...matters so much. Even the smallest of mistakes can change the course of the future; one misstep potentially blowing his cover and leading to his untimely -and likely extremely brutal and bloody- demise. An hour away a helicopter waits for him; on standby to whisk him back to Vietnam and that little ‘hole in the wall’ hotel he’d been staying in. A quick shower and he’d back in the air; rushed to the nearest backwoods airport where a private jet would take him home. It’s been four days now; two spent in the planning stages before his first ‘hit’ in Laos and then the trek to Cambodia. Two for the price of one, Anil had said, although money matters very little now. These kinds of gigs are more a service; wiping out the dregs of society more of a gift to humanity than anything else.

He normally doesn’t take on jobs. A total of three in the past five years. This is the fourth AND fifth. The skills and the mindset quickly and effortlessly returning, the first kill a lot easier than he’d thought it would be. It’s like riding a bike; once the gun is in your hand and you’re peering through that scope, your finger easily finds and pulls the trigger. And this job had been impossible to turn down; the dirty and vile details hitting home and preying on his ‘human side’. Anyone in his position as a husband and father would have been enraged and disgusted. Drug runners and weapons smugglers that moonlight in abusing and torturing their wives and exploiting children. Sometimes even their own. People that evil don’t deserve to live; even a bullet between the eyes considered too kind. But it’s all he has time for. No ‘face to face’ meetings. He can’t be seen or even identified by name in order to protect his OWN family. He has to remain a ghost. An urban legend of sorts. Talked and gossiped about in drug circles and even among the local police and military who’d either been paid off by the criminals or had been hopeless and hapless when it came to stopping the activity. Nothing will be known about him. No glimpse of his appearance, no chance to hear his voice or even know his name. He’ll be known for just those ‘lucky shots’ he’d gotten in. Turned in to nothing more than rumours and speculation that will continue spreading long after he’s gone.

***

“T...you there?” Yaz’ voice through the earpiece. The reception is spotty; words broken up by heavy static.

He uses a forearm to wipe the mixture of water and sweat from his face, then lays a finger against the transmitter clipped to his vest. “I’m here.”

“Hot out there today, isn’t it.”

He smirks, then begins pulling pieces of a semi automatic rifle from the confines of the rucksack; hands moving quickly and efficiently as they snap and twist the weapon together. “I don’t want to hear your bitching. You’ve got air conditioning. I’m the one out in this shit.” His voice is low and quiet as he speaks. Even the smallest of sounds can travel great distances; echoing through the jungle and making its way down to the banks of the Mekong.

The river sits fifty yards to the south; muddy and heavily polluted and dotted with boats belonging to local fisherman. One vessel stands out from the crowd. A large and expensive houseboat; the chrome that lines the powerful motor and makes up the railings on the top deck sparkling in the sunlight. His mark is inside; meeting with some of Anil’s people acting under the guise of weapons buyers. When the time is right, the man in question will be led out onto the bottom deck and he’ll have one shot to get the job done. It’s another reason Anil had personally sought him out; his marksmanship impeccable, no other employee coming close to possessing that level of skill.

“You good?” Yaz inquires.

“Yeah…” he snaps the magazine in place and then switches off the safety. “...I’m good.”

“I’ll let you know when there’s movement. Going silent for now.”

He tears off the lid of the second bottle of water and takes a single sip before setting it down; using his sleeve to wipe both the opening and every side of the plastic. He can’t leave any trace of himself behind. Not a drop of sweat or a hint of saliva or his fingerprints. He’ll wipe the stand down before he leaves; methodically cleaning anything he may have come in contact with. IF his location is discovered, money talks. Anyone remotely related to his mark will pay to get answers, and the police will take what’s offered and collect every shred of possible evidence. He can’t take that chance. A single, unattached person may not care. Had he still been the guy living in the rundown and beaten up shack in the outback, he wouldn’t have thought twice about covering his tracks. But lives depend on him. A wife and seven beautiful little humans that count on him to protect them and keep them safe.

He CAN’T fuck this up.

Up in the stand he’s well hidden; camouflaged by the abundance of thick, lush greenery. It’ll be a tough shot through twisted and tangled branches; not even a foot of clearance between wood and leaves. Depending on exactly where his mark is led, he’ll compensate for that; pulling to the right or left in order to prevent the bullet from getting too ‘dirty’. He’s made tougher shots; mostly in his SASR days. And there’s no doubt he’ll make this one.

He bunches up the ruck sack and places it near the edge of the stand, facing the river. He’ll use it as both a ledge and a form of cushioning; balancing the long barrel of the rifle will provide stability and muffle the sound of the shot, disguising where it had originated from. He winces as he gingerly lowers himself onto his stomach; the cracking in his hip and the soreness in both knee and shoulder reminding him that he’s not as young as he used to be. Forty-seven is ancient in mercenary years. Most never make it that far. The odd few get to retire peacefully, but the majority are taken out by a bullet; one too many lapses in judgment and the smallest of errors leading to their deaths.

But most never get to have what he does either. A normal life with a family that loves him ; thousands of miles away, anxiously awaiting his return. It’s why he’s so careful; every decision he makes and every action he takes is done with them at the forefront of his mind. And he thinks about them now; warm and safe in the confines of a townhome in New York City. Four days ago they’d travelled from Australia and he’d promised to meet up with them as soon as the job was finished. It’s their third Christmas there; an eight bedroom brownstone in Gramercy Park. The kids especially enjoy spending the holidays there. Quickly falling in love with the idea of a white Christmas and enjoying all of the outdoor activities; sledding and skating and seeing the tree at Rockefeller Centre and visiting Santa and the reindeer in Central Park. And while life in the Big Apple had never appealed to him, the draw of Gramercy had been impossible to resist. Quiet and quaint; tree lined streets and a private park and neighbours that mind their own business and don’t ask too many questions. He’d initially worried about standing out like a sore thumb; tanned skinned and the array of tattoos and scars and the ‘Down Under’ accent. It turned out to be everything he HADN'T expected. The feeling of small town life within an enormous city.

The back of his hand swipes at the locusts and mosquitos that hover close to his face; their buzzing and humming both tickling and irritating his ears. The right isn’t as good as it used to be; hearing slightly muted and distorted thanks to years of both firing and coming in close contact with weapons. It’s another drawback to getting old. Along with his eyesight. Needing glasses to read or to spend anytime staring at a computer screen.

“They’re on the move.”

He blinks sweat from his eyes and wipes his lips and chin on the sleeve of his shirt. Then he settles in; bending his left leg at the knee and wriggling his stomach against the wood beneath him. The latter is mind over matter; as if the simple movement and the way he presses the toes of boots against the stand will improve both shot and stability. His finger hovers over the trigger; other hand lightly supporting the barrel of the gun, allowing the rucksack to bear the majority of the weight. Anil’s people come out first; identified by the tan linen suits he’d been told they’d be sporting. The ‘Mark’ is a middle aged man, clad in casual attire; olive green cargo shorts and a simple white golf shirt. He’s short and stocky with greying hair and a noticeable limp; a run in with a rival drug crew years ago resulting in the amputation of his leg and the acquisition of a prosthetic device.

His jaw clenches and his lips settle into a thin, pursed line. His heart hammers in his chest and both his shoulders and his chest tighten. It’s adrenaline. That unmistakable rush that comes before an imminent strike. He remembers it well. And it’s both surprising and disheartening how much he’s actually missed it.

As they chatter and laugh, one of Anil’s men places a hand on the Mark’s back and ever so slightly turns the other man in Tyler’s direction. It’s all he needs; just enough of the Mark’s forehead to ensure a ‘kill shot’. And he takes it; the sound slightly muffled but still deafening as it echoes through the jungle and stirs birds from their perches and wildlife from the safety of their nests and dens. The bullet easily tears through layers of leaves and bypasses branches; finding its target and sending the Mark sprawling backwards and then down into a pool of brain matter, fragments of skull, and quickly spreading blood.

“Target’s down.”

The words are simple. To the point. And as chaos erupts down by the river, he calmly begins his retreat; pushing himself up onto his feet and slinging the rifle over his shoulder. There’s no pressing need or rush; Anil’s people have made their quick escape and the screams and shouts are coming from startled fisherman and colleagues of the Mark that had been inside the houseboat. He has time; methodically cleaning every inch of both the stand and the stairs and making sure he’s left nothing behind.

“I’m heading back,” he says, shouldering the ruck sack and taking the stairs two at a time. He’s suddenly anxious to get on his way; feeling the relief that sets in as he begins his hour long trek.

A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. Not from the success of the mission or the satisfaction that comes with ridding the world of yet another monster. It’s one of happiness. One of peace.

The realization that each step he takes brings him closer to home.

#Tyler Rake #Tyler Rake fan fiction #Extraction fan fiction

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captainstressed · 4 years

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The Choice

Written for Day 2 of @whumptober2020 Prompt: “Pick Who Dies” Fandom: Doctor Who Characters: Thirteenth Doctor, Yasmin Khan, Rose Tyler, The Master (Dhawan) Word Count: 1,766 TW: mentions of a gun | off screen character death AO3:

Her mind was racing a mile a minute as she tried to work out a way to get them out of this, she ran through so many possible scenarios and the longer she paused, the bigger his grin grew, and her hearts felt as though they might actually burst out of her chest from the fear and panic that grew with every moment.

"Come on Doctor, we don't have all day."

His tone held a touch of boredom, as though what he was asking barely required a second thought, as though he wasn't asking her to literally choose between the lives of the two people who meant the most to her.

She looked across to the two women, both on their knees with their hands bound behind their backs. Yaz kept her expression neutral, refusing to add to The Masters satisfaction by showing her fear but The Doctor knew her well enough to sense her panic as she considered the possibility that she might not be able to get them out of this one. Rose had been the most vocal about their situation but it had taken the sound of a gun being cocked followed by a gentle pressure against the back of her head for her to fall silent. She'd paused for his warning, ready to bite back that if he was going to kill her anyway then there was no way in hell she was going down quietly. What he had said instead however made her blood run cold.

"Your daughter is turning four soon in your universe isn't she?"

Tears had filled her eyes and she locked eyes with The Doctor, who's expression was as unreadable as ever, she took a moment before responding and it was clear her words weren't only aimed at The Master.

"If anything happens to her, I will kill you."

"I'm the one with the gun here love." He had told her, increasing the pressure of the gun just a touch as though to emphasise his point before taking a step back and letting out a breath of a laugh.

She had remained quiet after that, her gaze burning into The Doctor as the latter's shifted between the three of them.

The Doctor hadn't known Rose had a child, she knew nothing about her, not since she had left her and the metacrisis Doctor in the parallel world so many lifetimes before. Was the child his? hers? It really had nothing to do with her but despite the situation they were currently in she couldn't help but wonder and found herself wanting to know, would it sway her decision?

There had to be something she could do, she'd been known to tear holes in the universe for less. How could this be happening, how could she have allowed this to happen. Rose had been safe in the parallel world, she and Yaz were in a good place, she had let her guard down, allowed herself just a moment of reprieve and he had used it against her in the worst way possible.

He was mad, she'd known that for a long time and she also knew what he was capable of but somehow she never fathomed that he would resort to this. He called it a truce of sorts, for all she had done to him, he would allow it to all be forgotten, she just had to choose who would die as penance. It was sick, and twisted, and so him.

"Doctor."

His sing song voice pulled her from her thoughts and her gaze snapped to his, he waved the hand that held the gun in her direction and she actually felt as though she might be sick. She had despised guns all her lives, something he was well aware of. He saw it as a permanent solution to their feud, but perhaps he was stupider than she ever thought possible if he didn't think for one moment that the pain she would inflict upon him for his actions would be so much greater than he could comprehend.

"I know what you're thinking."

He continued and her expression remained unflinching as she awaited for him to elaborate. If he had any idea of her current thought process then none of them would be here right now, or maybe he really was that stupid.

"If you even try and go back to change what happens here today, then I promise you Doctor, oh I promise you, things will turn out so much worser than even you could imagine."

He assured her, his tone contained a sliver of glee that didn't go amiss by her and she got the feeling that part of him wanted her to try just to give him an excuse.

Instead of responding, The Doctor looked back to the two women. First to Yaz, her beautiful, fantastic, brilliant Yaz. It had been just over a year since Ryan and Graham had left Team TARDIS and Yaz had chosen to stick around, they'd been teetering on the edge of something for a while before then but their newfound privacy of sorts had only allowed their growing feelings to blossom until finally they had decided to make it official. The Doctor had never been someones girlfriend before and although she'd never really cared much for labels it felt nice to have Yaz refer to her as such and she never tired of the look Yaz gave her every time she referred to Yaz as hers. The Doctor felt the prickle of tears at the thought of never seeing that look again, she had kept her emotions at bay throughout the ordeal thus far, letting only her anger show as to not play into The Masters hands any further.

She switched her gaze to Rose then, her pink and yellow human. Well, she supposed Rose hadn't been hers in a long long time, and in some ways she had never technically been hers at all. She looked different, older, her hair although still blonde was a touch darker these days. It had been millennia since she had last set eyes on her, many had walked in and out of her lives since Rose, some she loved, some she didn't, most of which had been there as a buffer, a reason to keep moving forward, to stop her going back and ripping another hole in the universe just to bring her back.

Then she'd met Yaz. She couldn't quite put into words her feelings towards Yaz much like she'd never quite been able to do so with Rose back when she was pinstripes. Her feelings towards both women had been and were so powerful yet at the same time they couldn't be compared to one and other. Both relationships had existed in different lifetimes and The Doctor had never expected for them to collide. Seeing Rose had brought back so many feelings for The Doctor, feelings even she wasn't aware she still felt.

Both women continued to stare back at her and she wondered what they were thinking. Did they think she had a plan in motion to get them all out of this? Did they expect her to actually choose one of them to die? Who did they think she would choose? She had to look away as the array of thoughts invaded her mind, it was suffocating and the more she thought about what she was being asked to do the more disgusted she felt with herself.

"How do I know you won't just kill them both, or me?"

It was the first time The Doctor had acknowledged what she was being asked to do out loud and she had to take a deep breath to try and keep her urge to throw up at bay. She averted her gaze from Rose and Yaz as she spoke, unable to look at either of them as she discussed the very matter of their lives.

"I'm nothing if not a reasonable man." He told her with a shrug and she laughed, a loud, short burst of noise that sounded odd coming from someone with an expression as stone faced and cold as The Doctor's.

"So, say I choose."

She paused when she heard a sharp intake of breath coming from where Yaz and Rose were still kneeling, the very possibility that she was considering going through with his sick game finally sinking in with the two women.

"Say I choose someone."

Her voice cracked every so slightly as she continued and she looked over at The Master, a quiet smirk on his lips as she finally played along with his game.

"You let the other one go."

If she thought by dropping their names and averting her gaze it would make this any easier she was wrong on so many levels, it was taking every ounce of self control she had not to throw up at the very thought of what she was considering.

The Master gave her a nod.

"I want your word."

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes and offered The Doctor what would be considered a friendly smile if not given the current circumstances.

"You have my word, Doctor."

The Doctor nodded. It was the smallest gesture, but it was acknowledgment that she was agreeing to his terms, agreeing to choose someone, someone she loved, to die. She heard another sound coming from where Yaz and Rose were, this time it was a sob. Looking over to them for a final time, she saw both women with tears streaming down their cheeks, there was no longer any reason for them to put up a front when the decision had already been made, one of them was going to die and there was nothing they could do about it.

Both women met her gaze despite their tears and The Doctor was unsurprised to feel tears slipping down her own cheeks, making no effort to wipe them away she looked each of them in the eyes, one of which would be for the final time.

"I'm sorry."

She whispered, her voice broken as she finally looked back to The Master who actually had the nerve to look like he felt sorry for her.

"I love you."

The tear-filled voiced reached her ears from behind and she squeezed her eyes shut in order to stop herself from looking back, she had to do this, she had no other choice. It was a handful of moments but felt like an eternity before she reopened her eyes and prepared herself to tell The Master who she had chosen.

#whumptober2020 #no.2 #day2 #fic #prompt #pick who dies #character death #doctor who #ao3 #yaz x thirteen #thirteen x rose #dhawan!master #tw mention of a gun

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oswildin · 4 years

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Chaos ~ Dhawan!Master x F!Reader

~ This is officially my first request! Yay! Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy. We all love a bit of a chaotic ship, it turned a bit sadder than intended but I hope you enjoy! ~

Summary: You’d lost everything. Your whole world changed. You’d lost hope. When one broken soul meets another, mix in a little chaos, and it’s one hell of a ride.

Request - Hi! I've never requested something from anyone before but I just finished reading your Dhawan!Master x Reader stories and I fell in love! Could I request one where Dhawan!Master's companion is the reader and they're both crazy and having a grand old time ruining the world together? It could also be cool if you throw in Thirteen and/or the fam trying to reason with the reader and it just not working out. Thank you, I can't wait to see what amazing things you write next!😊 ( @yourlocalspacebisexual )

Warnings: None except maybe some sadness.

(Y/N) had lost everything.

What was the point anymore?

The one person she adored. Loved. Craved... Gone.

It was during an accident at work... But she didn’t believe it. He worked in an office, for gods sake, what accident could possibly happen there except maybe accidentally stapling your hand?

It was the same day there were reports of sightings of strange creatures... Big metal robots...

It was no coincidence. (Y/N) wasn’t stupid, she remembered the attack a few years back with similar creatures. She was one of the few that didn’t believe the cover stories. None of them made sense.

It wasn’t fair.

(Y/N) sat at her dining room table, her eyes focused on the piping hot cup of tea in front of her. Nothing felt real anymore. Everything moved slow.

It had been 4 months. And it seemed like everyone had forgotten about him. Everyone except her.

Suddenly she was brought back to reality as she heard a crash from her back garden. She didn’t even react instantly. She slowly got up, heading through the kitchen to the back door. It was dark out, just passing 7pm on the clock as she reached for the handle, hesitantly opening the door.

(Y/N) switched on the garden light, as it illuminated the area. She peered our, her eyes scanning around as she saw nothing. She shrugged to herself before going to close the door, when she heard it again.

She reached back behind her, grabbing whatever was closest, which was an umbrella she’d left on the kitchen side. She held it up in defence as she stepped out.

“I’m giving you 5 seconds to leave, or I’m calling the police.” (Y/N) called out, her heart beginning to race. She could feel her blood pumping as she awaited whatever was outside to get her.

Her breath caught in her throat as she was suddenly faced with what she could only describe as a large green monster. She gasped as she fell back, tripping over her own foot as she jumped in surprise. She hit the cold hard floor as she looked up at the creature. It had a long neck, large black eyes with a small mouth and nose and giant claws.

It went to reach for her, lifting it’s arm in the air as there was another sound. Almost... electronic? Laser sounding. The creature turned to dust right before her eyes as she felt her chest rise and fall quickly. She looked down at the pile of ash in front of her as she quickly pushed herself off the floor, once again grabbing the umbrella holding it up as she finally saw who had killed the being.

“I just saved your life, and you’re threatening me?”

(Y/N)‘s wide eyes saw a man, with tanned skin, dark hair and beard, wearing a purple over coat as he held a device in his hand. His expression was smug as she stared at him.

“With an umbrella at that?” He shook his head. “No wonder you humans don’t live very long.”

“Who are you?!” She exclaimed, her voice strong.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He smirked, taking a step forward as he put the device in his inner coat pocket. “I know who you are. (Y/N) (L/N).” She felt her heart stop for a moment as he named her. “Tragic what happened to your little boyfriend.” He tutted to himself. (Y/N) narrowed her eyes, biting her inner cheek as she took a deep breath. “What would you say, if I told you, I knew why he died?”

“Who are you?” She repeated, her tone angry.

“I’m someone who wants someone dead.” He sneered, causing (Y/N) to furrow her brows. “That same someone who didn’t save your precious boyfriend.”

Quickly after that, The Master formally introduced himself, showing (Y/N) his TARDIS and what it could do. She couldn’t help but be in awe. It was the first time in a long time she’d felt something other than despair. He’d shown her space, planets, alien life. She knew he was no saint. But who was? He was almost intoxicating. She couldn’t explain it. It was like it was just the two of them, against the universe.

“I’m ready.”

(Y/N) declared, as the Master raised a brow, pushing himself away from the console as he put his hands in his trouser pockets.

“I want to meet the Doctor.” She told him, her voice monotone as he began to smile.

“I’m already a step ahead of you.” He smirked, moving back to the console as he set in the coordinates. (Y/N) took a deep breath as she joined him at the console, her face blank of expression.

She’d been wanting... revenge wasn’t the right word... but justice. She wanted justice for what happened to her loved one. And for herself. The months she spent locked away, grieving, hating the world. She wanted to release the anger that was buried deep within.

Maybe her and the Master weren’t so different. Of course, they had their spats, he was a difficult person to get along with. He was cocky, arrogant, unpredictable... but for some reason she couldn’t say no. She couldn’t bring herself to go back... to being alone.

In a strange way, he’d been there for her. Her rock. Causing chaos... was kind of fun. She’d became someone who she never thought she would. But she didn’t know if she liked it.

“I’ve sent the distress signal. Our plan is in motion!” The Master clapped his hands together, laughing to himself. “This is going to be... wonderful.” He grinned as (Y/N) stood, holding the same weapon the Master had used on the alien when she’d first met him. “And you...” He walked over to her as she stared up at him. He placed his hands on either side of her face, cupping it. “Are going to be... magnificent.” He smiled darkly, before kissing her forehead gently. She felt her heart skip a beat, something she hadn’t felt in ages. Was she attaching herself? Was she beginning to let herself move on? Was killing the Doctor the last step?

The pair landed on Gallifrey, the Doctor and Master’s home planet. The Master gritted his teeth as he stepped back onto the planet that made him. He despised it. He despised them. As if on cue, a wheezing noise could be heard, as a blue box appeared a few metres ahead of them.

“What- so your people may not be dead?!”

(Y/N) heard a girls voice ask as the door to the box opened. A blonde woman ran out, holding a device in her hand as it scanned the area. The Master had hidden behind his ship, waiting for the right moment to appear. He had managed to disguise it as some rubble that was left over after he had destroyed his home.

“I don’t know!” The blonde woman cried as she searched widely with her eyes. (Y/N) stood, watching as the woman finally noticed her in the distance. The woman paused before rushing towards the girl. However, when she got closer, her device beeped.

“Hang on, you’re human...” The woman said, sadness in her voice. “How are you here? How did you even get here?” She questioned, her brows furrowing.

“Wait, so she’s not one of you? Time kings or whatever you’re called?” An older man asked, gesturing to the girl.

“Timelord. And no. She’s not.” The woman, sensed something was wrong.

“You’re the Doctor, I presume.” (Y/N) stated, as the four newcomers to the planet exchanged glances.

“Yes, I am. Hello.” The Doctor replied cautiously.

“And you must be her companions.” (Y/N) looked at the people behind her as they looked confused. “It’s a shame we had to meet like this.” (Y/N) moved her arm from behind her back, revealing the device the Master had given her. The four backed up instantly, as the Doctor moved in front of her friends, blocking them from harm.

“Whatever you want, whatever you need, I can help!” The Doctor exclaimed, her eyes wide.

“Can you?” (Y/N) shook her head. “Really?” She laughed lightly, tears forming in her eyes. “Because in my books, you don’t have a good track record with that.”

“What?” The Doctor gave her a confused, concerned stare. “How did you get here?”

“Oh, that would’ve been me.”

The Masters voice appeared from behind (Y/N) as he revealed himself, giving the four a finger wave. The Doctor shook her head.

“I always come back.” The Master smirked.

“But how? How can he be there? He got taken by those light aliens with Barton!” Ryan exclaimed, trying to find an answer.

“And yet here I am.” He grinned. “You can’t get rid of me that easy, Doctor.”

“What’s he promised you?” The Doctor ignored the Master, keeping her eyes on (Y/N).

“Peace.” She answered truthfully as the Doctor snorted.

“Peace?!” She repeated.

“Yes, Doctor.” The Master confirmed. “Peace. Closure. Justice.” The Doctor sent him a confused glance.

“You were there.” (Y/N) began to explain. “You were there as my boyfriend died!” She exclaimed. “You let him die. You let them take him! Turn him into a heartless machine.” She let a tear fall, her hand shaking. “He would still be here if you had saved him. Saved all of them.” The Doctor stayed silent as her companions watched in worry.

“It got me thinking... what’s the point?” (Y/N) laughed lightly. The Doctor tried to take a step forward as (Y/N) reacted, letting the laser go off by the woman’s feet. “Do not move!” The Master clapped his hands, laughing manically. The human companions eyes widened as they realised how unhinged (Y/N) was getting.

“That’s my girl.” The Master commented, a proud look in his eyes as (Y/N) breathed in deeply.

“You don’t have to do this.” Yaz chimed in, trying to reason with the fellow girl. “Whatever he’s told you, it’s a lie. The Doctor is a good person.”

“Is she?!” (Y/N) cried. “I know there’s two sides to every story, but from where I’m standing it’s hard to understand the other side.” The Master grew closer to (Y/N) as he leant forward, leaning into her ear.

“Do it.” He said quietly. “Think of your boy. Think of his pain. His agony.” He taunted her as the Doctor shook her head.

“Would he want this?” She asked. “Would he want you to become this?”

“It doesn’t matter what he would want, because he is dead!” (Y/N) exclaimed, the laser still aimed at the Doctor.

“I’m sorry!” The Doctor raised her hands. “I’m so, so sorry.” She said more quietly, her tone sincere, sad. (Y/N) looked into the woman’s eyes as she saw the pain in them. She let more tears fall as she felt her heart break.

What was she doing?

What had she become?

(Y/N) slowly lowered her arm, as the Master furrowed his brows.

“What are you doing?” He hissed at her, his anger rising.

“I can’t.” She whispered. “Causing chaos with you is one thing... but killing is another.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry.”

The Doctor sighed in relief as her companions did the same. Yaz watched as the girl crumbled, her heart aching for her as she hesitantly approached the younger girl. She tried to calm her down as the Master bit his tongue.

“Humans. So much sentiment.” He spat.

“Is this what you’ve resorted to!?” The Doctor shook her head. “Look at what you’ve done!” She gestured around her. “You destroyed our home! Isn’t that enough?!” She laughed bitterly. “You prayed on a vulnerable human... Using her as a weapon!”

“Don’t lecture me, Doctor!” The Master hissed, snapping viciously. “Like you’re so innocent!” He narrowed his eyes. “I could say the same to you...” he paused. “You call these humans your friends... but they’re just an accessory. You fashion them into weapons and release them into the world!” The Doctor looked taken back by the Masters words, remembering Davros saying the same thing to her in her tenth regeneration.

“Well then perhaps you and me aren’t so different.” She replied quietly.

BONUS:

“I got it!”

(Y/N) cried, a smile on her face as she held the rare jewel from a far away alien planet. The Master looked at her in shock.

“How?!” He raised a brow.

“I have my ways.” She smirked as she tucked it in her pocket.

“Over there!” They heard a distant voice as they both began to run.

“You have to admit, I’m giving you a run for your money.” She commented as they ran along, heading back to the Masters’ TARDIS.

“Yeah, but you did learn from the best.” He smugly replied, setting a few paintings on fire with his laser as the aliens that inhabited the gallery began to run in fright. As they arrived at the TARDIS door, the Master turned to the guards who were holding up guns towards him.

“Oh, and one last thing before we go.” He paused. “I may or may not have detonated a bomb on the ground floor.” He grinned like a child as the guards instantly began to panic. “It’s ok, I’ll pay for any damages.” He waved his hand. “Just send the bill my way.” He quickly closed the door as they began to open fire, (Y/N) yelping as one shot through the door of the ship.

“Oh I do love to leave a lasting impression.” The Master commented dramatically as he ran to the console.

“You forgot the shields again!” She complained as the Master ignored her. She tossed him the jewel as he caught it, smirking.

“Time to get that favour we are owed.”

There was a ringing through the ship as (Y/N) gave the Master a knowing look.

“It’s her.” She commented, raising a brow. The Master rolled his eyes dramatically as he answered the old style phone that was lying on the console.

“Can I remind you we don’t need a babysitter?” The Master raised a brow as he spoke. (Y/N) laughed lightly as she knew they were going to get a telling off.

“Did you just blow up the Gallery of Callisto and steal the jewel of Vanth?!”

She could hear the Doctor shout from the other end of the phone. The Master sent (Y/N) a knowing look as she snickered to herself.

“I don’t know, I’ve blown up a lot of places and stolen a lot of things recently.” He shrugged.

“Master! I swear-“

“Sorry, you’re- you’re breaking up! Damn time vortex-“

(Y/N) laughed as the Master grinned at her, knowing that they were spending their time trying to cause as much chaos as possible, to the universe and most importantly the Doctor.

Taglist: @blamerogertaylor

#the master #dhawan master #dr who #doctor who imagine #doctor who #thirteenth doctor #13th doctor x reader #dhawan!master x reader #dhawan!master #the master x reader #master x reader #doctor x reader #request #reader insert #fanfic

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cosmicoceanfic · 4 years

Note

This might not be of any interest but I know you've been catching up on Doctor Who lately- if you fancy it, how about something about Dirk and Thirteen meeting/being buds? I think they would just adore one another

post DW series 11, post DGHDA season two

Todd’s learned to get used to lots of things being friends with Dirk, but he’s come to assume there’s some form of nonsensical pattern to it. Some weird shit will happen, and then some weird shit will follow. He’s gotten pretty good at understanding the level of weirdness, too. They’ll be minding their own business, and suddenly a dog will come into the office and ask them if they have the time, on account of the fact they’re a dog, and don’t have a watch. That kind of weird shit.

Some weirdness, of course, just comes from Dirk, and his way of being. That’s usually vaguely predictable too, though. Dirk will tell them strange things that probably aren’t true, or he’ll only eat sandwiches cut into thirds on Tuesdays. It’s just the kinda thing you get used to.

It’s why Todd is ultimately not that surprised when he, Dirk, and Farah are walking down the street and Dirk sees someone walking on the opposite sidewalk, screams, and starts jumping up and down and waving. He is surprised, though, when that stranger starts jumping up and down and waving and screaming back. Usually if Dirk attracts someone’s attention, they stare at him like a crazy person, unless he asks if they’ve experienced accelerated strangeness or maybe their goat has gone missing, or maybe if they’re gained a goat, and then they’re usually a surprise client.

This person doesn’t seem like a client, though. This person is waving her arms wildly and dashing across the street as several cars honk at her, three people trailing behind her looking suitably embarrassed and awkward as they wave at the cars apologetically. She collides with Dirk in a hug.

“Oh, you’re huggy this time!” Dirk says cheerfully, leaning back a bit with the force of the hug. “Look at that!”

“Sorry, is that alright?” The woman pulls back, beaming. She’s English, Todd can tell that much. She’s got short blond hair, a long grayish silver coat, a blue shirt with stripes on it, and mustard yellow suspenders holding up blue pants. It is, admittedly, a lot less ridiculous outfit than Todd would’ve anticipated from someone that Dirk might be friends with. He realizes this reflects on him, too, and looks down at his own outfit in concern. “You are huggy, aren’t you? I feel like I remember being annoyed about that a few times before.”

“Yes, very much so!” He beams back. “Look at you! Love the ear cuff.”

“Thank you!” She flicks it. “You should get one. Love an ear cuff. I think I might’ve invented them on a few planets. Hey, how d’you think you always recognize me on sight, no matter the, y’know-“ she gestures down herself.

“Oh, you know.” He wibbles a hand back and forth. “This is a new one, isn’t it?”

“Oh, yeah. Gender, you know how it is.” It’s her turn to wibble a hand back and forth. “Bit of a shot in the dark at the best of times. I like this one, though! Hair’s a nice color. Haven’t been blond since, oh, eight go rounds back or so? Not sure.”

Dirk nods sympathetically. “Math.”

She smiles at Todd and Farah. “Hullo, Todd, Farah, lovely to see you, as always.”

The three behind her wave and there’s a choruses of “hellos” and “alright, then?”.

“Hi…..?” Todd says uncertainly. Farah says nothing, but she squints at all of them in the way she does when she’s not sure what’s going on, and is assessing the situation to determine whether or not the situation calls for trouble.

Dirk perks up. “Oh, do we see you a few times this go round? That’s nice, you never know with you.”

The woman looks at Dirk. Then she looks at Farah. Then she looks back at Dirk. Then at Todd. Then, bizarrely, at Dirk’s hand resting at his side, and thenTodd’s hand resting at his side, and then the distance between them.

“Ah,” she says, eyes flicking up to Dirk. “Sorry. Timelines. Never know how it’s going to be. Are we meeting, then, am I doing introductions?” She wheels on Todd and Farah. “This is Graham, Ryan, and Yaz, I’m-“

“The Doctor,” Farah cuts in.

Todd stares. Dirk stares. The woman, who must be the Doctor, stares.

“Hi,” she says. “Sorry. Have I met you before? I don’t remember meeting you before I met you all at once, but-“

Farah shifts a little under the scrutiny, but lifts her chin. “The CIA, FBI, and MI6 all have lengthy files on the Doctor that I’ve been able to gain some access to.” She gives her a vaguely defiant look. “If we’re starting to deal with weird shit, I should be able to research weird shit.”

The Doctor does not look at all fazed. In fact, she looks thrilled. “Farah Black! You get more brilliant every time I see you, do I not say she’s brilliant, guys-“ she turns back to Graham, Ryan, and Yaz. “Don’t I talk about how brilliant Farah is?”

“Don’t think not meeting me yet’s gonna get you out of that four quid you owe me, mate,” Graham says, pointing at Todd. Ryan reaches out and gives him a light thwack on the arm. “What? He never paid me back, fair’s fair.”

“I don’t know what a quid is,” Todd says, nonplussed by this whole situation. “Sorry, are you time travelers? As a… habit?”

“To be fair.” Dirk turns to him. “We’re time travelers, Todd.”

“Yeah, but that was like… a one time thing. Past tense.”

“Ah,” the Doctor says. “Don’t expect that to last.”

“Oi.” Yaz walks up to her and giving her a sharp poke. “Aren’t you the one always going on about meddling-“

“Ow, no, listen, it’s fine, s’not that much, and Dirk’s used to it anyhow-“

Dirk nods. “It’s true. She’s very bad at keeping a secret. Do we time travel to anyplace interesting?”

The Doctor opens her mouth.

“Hey,” Ryan says.

“Better not, Doc,” Graham adds.

Yaz just gives her a poke again.

“Fuck,” Todd says, feeling a little out of depth. “So we’re gonna-“

“Oh, they let you say that one?” The Doctor looks disappointed. “I always want to say that one, but then these three yell at me if I ever get close.”

“S’weird,” Ryan says. “It’s like your nan swearing.”

Graham snorts. “Your nan swore fairly regularly, son, and more than once round you, if I recall.”

“Like someone’s nan swearing,” Ryan amends.

“What, nine hundred someodd years and I’ve never sworn before? I invented swearing on some planets, I’ll have you know.”

Yaz rolls her eyes. “You’re always saying you invented things on other planets and I think most of the time you’re taking the piss.”

“Nine hundred years of what?” Farah asks, looking distinctly unnerved.

“Oh, did you have a birthday I missed?” Dirk asks. “I mean, I assume I’ve missed quite a few, but still, I’ll have to get you something. Do you like jars with little bits of string in them? I’ve been collecting them.”

“Please,” Todd says, distracted from the fact they may have a thousand year old woman in their presence by the possibility of finally getting rid of the string jar. “God, take the string jar, he’ll just be shoving pieces of string in it in front of clients and it’s decreasing our credibility.”

“I love little bits of string,” the Doctor says fervently, and Todd can 100% believe her. “Hang on, though.” She leans in. “Are you guys solving a mystery?”

Dirk leans in, looking intrigued. “Not yet,” he says conspiratorially. “But that’s how life goes, isn’t it, one minute you’re not solving a mystery and the next you are. Why, are you solving a mystery?”

“I dunno, but we’ve got to be here for a reason.” She straightens, beaming. “Come on! Let’s wander around and see what happens to us, eh, if the two of us are in the same place at the time something odd’s bound to happen. Maybe we can get you an ear cuff along the way.”

“Oustanding idea.” Dirk pats her arm affectionately. Todd feels vaguely jealous, until it occurs to him that’s a stupid thing to be, and attempts to quash the feeling. “You’re so friendly this time.”

“Careful letting the Doc pick anything out for buying,” Graham tells him. “She’s never got a wallet on her.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I am extremely familiar with the Doctor’s propensity to travel like some outer space inner time hobo.”

The Doctor pulls a face. “Not extremely nice but accurate.” She gestures. “Come on, fam! Dirk’s fam!”

“I know we vetoed fam,” Ryan mutters.

“Yeah, I don’t like that, either,” Farah agrees.

“You never do!” She cheerfully leads the charge with Dirk, and the rest of them follow, because apparently this is their morning now. Todd sees her lean into him and whisper what she probably thinks is quietly. “He’s very nice, you know. I approve.”

Dirk, from what Todd can see, goes a little red. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he hisses back, a little tartly.

“Oof, you’re never any fun when you get all shirty. Say, do you have a fun hat? I’ve been thinking about giving hats a go again, although it will disguise the ear cuff, so maybe we’ll have to see.”

Thank you for this prompt, darlin! This was so much fun. It hit a sizable enough length that I may even post it to AO3.

prompts call and fandoms here! come keep me busy and sane during strange times

#dirk gently #dghda #dont-offend-the-bees #dirk gently fic #farah black #todd brotzman #dirk gently's holistic detective agency #the doctor #doctor who #yasmin khan #ryan sinclair #graham o'brien #doctor who fic #fic #ocean speaks #ocean's fic

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blueboxesandtrafficcones · 5 years

Text

Snowball Fight

Hello, hello!

Welcome to the 2018 31 Days of Ficmas! List provided by the wonderful @doctorroseprompts. @timepetalscollective for 13xRose and therefore fulfilling multiple bingo slots (including wearing another regeneration’s clothing, though it’s Rose wearing it)

31 Days of Ficmas masterlist

Summary: Rose and the Doctor disagree about 13's level of responsibility when it came to the Death Eye Turtle Army. Deciding to settle it like adults, they split Team TARDIS down the middle - and wage the snowball war for the ages.

AO3

Three weeks onboard the TARDIS had done little to diminish Yaz’s wonder for her new surroundings. While Ryan preferred to spend his free time in the Entertainment Room playing 23rd century video games and Graham took advantage of the library, she opted to wander the halls, learning the layout of the spaceship. Two years of training as a police officer had drilled into her the importance of knowing her whereabouts in relation to where she needed to be.

Of course, her explorations had limited value; every morning a different path led to the galley, and a single path never took her to the same place twice. The TARDIS is alive, Yaz, the Doctor had said, and that was never more evident than in the changing floorplans.

She loved it.

Surprisingly for someone who liked to have control, it didn’t bother her that she was habitually lost. The few times she’d grown worried enough to call for help, within two minutes she’d either walked through a doorway into the console room or the Doctor had appeared, leading her back to where she’d been trying to go, babbling a hundred miles an hour the whole way. That only made her more confident in her investigations.

So far she’d found two pools, four squash courts, a garden, an art gallery, and several disused bedrooms. Today, she was on the hunt for a fitness center or exercise room. The Sheffield Constabulary had certain expectations of its officers, and running with the Doctor proved that endurance was key. She was doing well so far, able to keep up, but without a training regimen she was worried that might change.

Ryan had scoffed, dismissing her concerns, but a few days before she had stumbled across him in a mostly empty room practicing climbing a ladder, padded cushions on the ground in case he fell. She’d quietly backed out, letting him have his privacy, all the while fiercely proud of her friend.

Feminine voices ahead alerted Yaz that she was about to get sidetracked, but she wasn’t too bothered as the hallway spilled into the console room. Leaning against the doorway with her arms folded, she smirked as she watched the Doctor and her wife argue.

Despite heated tones and hands perched on hips, their stance and closeness suggested flirting more than anything, and it never failed to make Yaz smile. Her new friend carried the universe on her shoulders – and as strong as she was, she still needed someone to help lighten the load, and the other woman appeared to do so with ease.

“-which is why I’m absolutely right, and Yaz agrees. Don’t you Yaz?” The Doctor’s raised pitch invited her in, and letting her arms fall to her sides, she stepped further into the room.

“What trouble are you causing now?”

The Doctor’s indignant splutter was drowned out by her wife’s laughter.

“Oh, she’s got your number, love,” Rose sniggered, leaning back against the console. “And it only took three weeks. That might be record. Well done, Yaz.”

“Thanks,” she grinned at the slightly more petite blonde. The couple looked very similar, standing at nearly the same height with matching bottle-blonde hair and mischievous grins. The only way she could tell them apart the first few trips was the Doctor’s tigger-like energy and manner compared to Rose’s steady, laidback attitude, and their outfits – the Doctor only ever seemed to change her shirt whereas Rose was always in a new, cute outfit that made Yaz jealous of her closet and apparent budget.

“You didn’t answer my question, though,” Yaz prompted, raising her eyes at the now-pouting Time Lord.

“I’m not causing trouble,” the alien denied hotly. “I was just saying that the Death Eye Turtle Army was not my fault.”

“Ehhh…” Yaz grimaced, considering, before shrugging one shoulder. “To be fair, it wasn’t not your fault either.”

“Traitor!” the Doctor gasped, before turning a glare on Rose who was bent in half, howling with laughter as she clung to the console for support. “And you, Rose Tyler!”

“What?” she gasped, holding her sides.

“You- you- you impugn my honor!”

“Oh, I’m really glad you didn’t say belittle,” her wife sniggered, before bursting into giggles again.

Yaz’s nose wrinkled, slightly lost. The couple clearly had a rich history, if their frequent incoherent asides were any indication.

“Inside joke,” Rose explained briefly, confirming the theory. “If you ever meet a Sontaran, it’ll make perfect sense. Long story.”

“Well, we all came out of it safe and sound, so no harm no foul,” Yaz offered, giving the Doctor a tentative smile.

“Thank you, Yaz. Nice to see someone appreciates me.”

Rose rolled her eyes, grinning at Yaz as she directed at her wife, “I appreciate you more when you when you get us out of trouble than when you get us into it. And even moreso when we can have a nice day out without any trouble at all.”

“You love it.”

“Yeah, and I love chocolate cake, doesn’t mean I need to experience it every single day.”

Yaz coughed deliberately, trying to derail another bickering session at least long enough to get out of the room; it tended to get a bit too close to the line between flirty and foreplay for her to feel comfortable observing. Never mind that Rose was staring at the Doctor like she was chocolate cake. “Are we going anywhere today?”

“Yes,” the Doctor said decisively, moving towards the controls as if struck with inspiration and starting to throw switches and press buttons in a possibly-meaningful order. “We’re going to settle this disagreement like adults.”

Rose sighed deeply, the knowing exhale of a fondly exasperated spouse. Yaz heard it often when her father started on his conspiracy theories. “Somehow I doubt your idea of what qualifies as ‘adult’ is vastly different from mine.” Turning, she began manipulating the controls in front of her with a familiarity Yaz found fascinating. Nothing was labeled yet she never hesitated in her movements, graceful and efficient. Even the Doctor sometimes struggled with apparently new systems, and if she didn’t know better she’d think Rose was the original operator of the craft. Though the Doctor’s occasional jealous look was usually humorous.

“Rose! Not that kind of adult!”

“I didn’t- that wasn’t- shut up,” Rose groaned, stretching to flick a switch almost out of reach before swatting at her spouse. “I meant something along the lines of just letting it go, being the bigger person. Accepting responsibility.”

“Ah.” The Doctor’s nose crinkled, and she shook her head. “Nope, no thanks, not me.”

“Where are we going?” Yaz cut in, grabbing onto a holdbar as they careened through the Vortex, watching with awe as the couple flew around the console, giving happy laughs at every bit of turbulence.

“There’s this planet called Woman Wept,” the Doctor started, only for Rose to immediately cut in.

“-An’ it’s absolutely gorgeous. Once upon a time it was pretty much all water, only the sun died suddenly and everything flash-froze. ‘S called that because when you look at it from above, it looks like a woman crying. Now it’s all snow and ice.”

“And what does that have to do with settling your disagreement like adults?”

“Snowball fight,” the Doctor said brightly, as though it were perfectly reasonable and obvious.

Yaz just shook her head, capitalizing on her last few moments with the women as she could hear Ryan and Graham stumbling down the hall. “You’re gonna settle it with a snowball fight?” For just a moment, she remembered the last call she’d taken before stumbling across Ryan in the forest – two grown women needing supervision to resolve a parking dispute. These two were far more entertaining.

The boys burst in then, Ryan in front with Graham hot on his heels.

“Wha’s goin’ on?” They moved to their stations, taking hold for dear life just as they hit a nasty bit of turbulence.

“Snowball fight on an alien planet. You up for it?” The Doctor’s indefatigable adventuring spirit made them all grin, and Ryan was the first to agree.

“Hell yeah.”

“Why not?” Graham added, as the ship landed with a final shudder.

“Brilliant!” The Doctor leapt towards the door, throwing them open and revealing a tantalizing glimpse of white.

The companions made to follow, only turning back when Rose cleared her throat.

“It’s freezing out there. There’s hats, gloves, scarves, and coats in this closet,” she said, throwing open a door in the wall to reveal a multitude of wintery items in all shapes sizes and colors, selecting an absurdly long, multi-colored scarf for herself.

“Really? You’ll trip and die on that thing,” Yaz muttered as she pawed through the items to find a matching set.

Rose winked, still winding it around her neck. “Not before the Doctor dies of hearts failure.”

Suitably kitted out, the four humans (though Yaz still wasn’t fully convinced about Rose) stepped out to find a dozen snowmen of various sizes and incredible detail in the snow around the ship. Each had a different face and body type, or as much as a snowman could have, but they must have meant something to Rose because she giggled and went up to the fourth one from the ship and gave it her scarf.

“Wicked,” Ryan breathed, making Yaz look up – and gasp.

“Oh my…”

A sixty-foot frozen wave towered over them, glistening in the moonlight. Rose was right; it was spectacular. Similar shapes rose out of the darkness in the distance, giving the place an eerie but serene feel.

“Does anyone live here?” Graham asked, looking around, his face showing the same marvel as Ryan’s and her own.

“Not anymore. Planet died when the sun did,” the Doctor reported sadly, dropping the snowball she held, her wife wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulders.

“So, how are we splitting up the teams?” Ryan stepped closer to the Doctor, staring at the wave overhead in awe.

“Boys against girls?” Rose suggested, making Ryan and Graham frown at her.

“What, the two of us against the three of you? Nah, man, that’s not fair!” Ryan protested, crossing his arms.

“What? No, the two of you with me,” the Doctor said cheerfully, kissing Rose quickly before moving away. “Then Rose and Yaz.”

Graham didn’t seem assuaged, raising an eyebrow. “Maybe I should sit out, keep score, that sort of thing. Make it even.”

“What? No!” The Doctor’s face fell as she wrapped her arm around his shoulders. “We’ve only barely got a chance the three of us.”

“And it’s not just two,” Rose smirked, disappearing through the TARDIS door only to return a moment later with Grace, who was grinning widely. “The TARDIS is a cheater, taking pity on the Doctor and not letting Grace know we’d landed.”

“Oh, you’re going down,” Ryan’s nan gloated, poking her husband in the chest. “You haven’t a prayer, love.”

“That’s not fair,” the Doctor whined, glaring at her wife. “You three’ll be too good.”

“All’s fair in love and war,” Rose retorted, “and this most certainly is war.”

“My dignity’s at stake!”

“What dignity?”

“Children, children,” Grace soothed, laughing, “three on three seems like a fair fight.”

“I heartily disagree-” the Doctor started, only to splutter at a sudden mouthful of snow as Rose shrieked with laughter and took off across the frozen tundra. “Saboteur! Come back here!”

The Doctor began chasing Rose as Grace, unseen by Graham, carefully packed a solid snowball, and with a wink to Yaz, lobbed it at her husband.

“Oi!” he yelped, before scooping up a ball as well and throwing at Yaz.

“Hey!”

And the war was on.

Twenty minutes later it had devolved into each of the married couples chasing their spouses around, fighting bitterly and taking no prisoners. Every so often someone would yelp or scream as snow was shoved unceremoniously down their shirtback, and Yaz and Ryan watched it all with a laugh.

“It’s nice to see them so happy,” Yaz commented, sipping at the hot chocolate the ship had provided. She and Ryan had easily declared a truce after the third snowball in a row she’d nailed him with, and they’d brought out a bench and pile of blankets to watch the ‘adults’ battle for supremacy play.

“Yeah. I think Nan loves this travelin’ more than the rest of us combined.”

“Definitely.” They shared a laugh, though Yaz’s smile slipped at the reminder of how closely they’d come to not having Grace with them. If Rose hadn’t been there to cushion her fall… Sure, both women hobbled away with bruised ribs and aching bodies, but they’d walked away.

“Hey, stop that,” Ryan chided, elbowing her in the side. “She’s fine, ‘s all good. What’s that Rose keeps saying, ‘Don’t borrow trouble’?”

Yaz nodded, forcing the thought from her mind as she nudged him back. “I think the TARDIS gave us a snowball gun – want to take them all down?”

“But the Doctor doesn’t like guns.” He gave her a wide-eyed, innocent look before he started laughing, throwing his head back and letting it ring out. “Hell. Yes. You pack, I’ll shoot.”

It didn’t take long to build a well-stocked cache, deciding that Ryan would aim and Yaz would load – part of the gun seemed to be an old automatic tennis ball launcher; all she had to do was feed the snowballs through as fast as she could, and Ryan would do the rest.

Within five minutes they were forevermore known as the undisputed Snowball Fight Champions.

#bbatcfic #doctorroseprompts #timepetalscollective #31 Days of Ficmas #ficandchips #Doctor Who #13xrose #13th doctor #rose tyler #snowball fight #yasmin khan #ryan sinclair #graham o'brien #grace o'brien #teamtardis

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timeagainreviews · 5 years

Text

The Doctor needs a medic!

Clarification: I did a little research after my article last week. That "sister," line from Arachnids was still getting to me. As an American living in the UK, I was unaware of the fact that head nurses were still called sisters, despite them no longer being nuns. So it turns out that the Doctor wasn’t implying she used to be a female, but rather than she was using sexist outdated language. Cool… cool. Can’t decide which is worse. I mean, she is a bit old. Perhaps she’s a bit old fashioned as well. I’d keep an eye on her if she starts reading the Daily Mail.

We’re now at the halfway point of the series. Five episodes in, and I would say this one was, if nothing else, fairly solid. "The Tsuranga Conundrum" may be one of my favourite episodes of the series thus far, and it’s a bottle episode! However, while Chris Chibnall wrote the episode, the alien threat in it was actually devised by writer Tim Price, so it was a bit of a group effort. It would appear, however, that the real antagonist of this story… is time.

In an odd way, the opening shot of the episode had me thinking of the previous "Arachnids in the UK," with its giant landfill. I almost wondered if they weren’t actually rooting around underground Sheffield. Instead we’re on a planet called "Seffilun 27," in what the Doctor refers to as a "junk galaxy." The planet seems to be covered in junk as far as the eye can see. I was reminded a bit of House from "The Doctor’s Wife," with all of the junk from discarded TARDISes lying around. The Doctor has Team TARDIS sweeping for junk she can use for unspecified Doctory stuff. Instead of finding the desired gadget, Graham discovers a sonic mine that lands them all in the hospital.

The hospital is your typical Doctor Who style futuristic building, all white and sleek. It’s what you’d expect, but there’s a bit more than meets the eye. The Doctor is the last to wake up and feels pretty awful. You can already tell it’s going to be a handicap for her throughout the episode. I was reminded of regeneration episodes where the Doctor is "still cooking," and has to deal with a bit of pain. Nothing really comes from the pain other than a bit of added suspense, which is all fine and good. This is not the only handicap the Doctor will face throughout the episode.

The two attending medics are Astos and Mabli. Both are young, attractive, and seem very capable at their jobs. The Doctor discovers from Astos, the head medic, that they have spent the last four days on a medical ship called the Tsuranga (as opposed to a hospital) on its way to a space station called Resus 1. This causes the Doctor to panic. She’s left her TARDIS behind on a junk planet, where people scavenge, and she’s "only just got it back!" However, Astos reminds her that the ship needs to reach it’s destination for the health and wellbeing of the ship’s passengers. It’s a reasonable argument and the Doctor can’t deny it.

Among the patients on the ship, other than the Doctor and her friends, is Eve Cicero, a famous pilot and general, accompanied by her brother Durkas and android assistant Ronan. There’s also a pregnant man named Yoss (YOSSSSS GAGA! Sorry, had to) who is about to pop. Eve has Ronan manipulating the less experienced Mabli to provide her with adrenaline blockers, all behind both Astos and her brother’s backs. Yoss’ species’ gestation period of about a week, hasn’t given him much time to come to terms with being a father. His anxiety is even further exacerbated by the fact that his pregnancy was the result of a bit of fun at a party. Ryan, who grew up with an absentee father, seems to latch onto this, despite his initial reaction to a pregnant man.

The Doctor can’t turn the vessel around to pick up her TARDIS as it’s locked in on a path, auto-piloted. It only seems to pick up people in distress along the way, acting as a space ambulance. To make matters worse, the ship will be detonated if anyone tampers with it, in case of a hijacking, which seems a bit extreme. Other reasons it may be detonated, would be for quarantine reasons, or if it posed a threat to anyone. Which seems like as good a time as any to introduce our alien threat- Item Seven Alpha Cubed, otherwise known as "Pting." (Probably named after the sound the hull of a ship makes whenever it turns up.)

This marks the second week in a row where the reveal of the baddie has made me react with an "Awww!" Look at that little face! What a little cutie. Sadly, that little cutie just caused the death of Astos, as it caused the escape pod he was inside to evacuate, and detonate. I’m not 100% sure why it actually detonated, even without life support. Is part of a ship’s life support system allotted to the not-exploding of things? Regardless though, the Pting isn’t really hostile like a Dalek is hostile, it just seems a bit hungry! It doesn’t seem to eat organic matter, though it makes a right meal of the Doctor’s sonic screwdriver. The cosplayer in me was worried I was going to have to order a whole new piece for a second, but it coughed it right back up! Though it no longer seems to work. Another handicap.

The Pting is a rather resilient little creature. General Cicero had encountered them before as one “massacred” her entire fleet. Their skin is toxic to the touch and unbreakable. It can survive the vacuum of space, and it seems to enjoy eating anything. Think of a mix between a tardigrade, a Gremlin, and Nibbler. The Doctor must stop it from destroying the life support (see: anti-exploding device), and also from alerting the people back on Resus 1 from detonating the ship as well. They also need to keep the little muncher away from the ship’s anti-matter generator, so the heat is on!

One of the things I’ve been paying close attention to this series is whether the companions are utilised properly. The decision to have three over the usual one is something of a self-imposed challenge. Writing for an ensemble is far more difficult than the usual duo. Even classic Doctor Who struggled to balance three companions at times. I mentioned previously Nyssa’s TARDIS naps. Graham gets a nice little moment where he questions Durkas as to why he’s looking into his sister’s medical records. His friendly, yet direct approach was as though he was channelling the Doctor. He seems to be taking her example to heart. Yaz gets put on guard duty with Ronan, protecting the anti-matter generator. And Ryan and Graham both get a bit of screen time as doulas helping Yoss through labour. I had my second "Awww!" moment when Yoss requested other men be there as support. It was cute, shut up.

While Yaz and Ryan were gathering up the people on the ship for an emergency meeting, they have a little heart to heart in a corridor. I couldn’t help but feel like this bit felt tacked on. The ship is in danger, and they stop to talk about how Ryan’s mum died. It stopped the momentum of the episode cold in its tracks. The only reason I can think they added it in at this point, was because they couldn’t think of a better place to put it. They needed to divulge Ryan’s backstory so they could tie it in with Yoss’ fatherhood. This seemed more of a writing choice than a directing choice. It’s fine, really, but not very graceful.

There were some really good Doctor moments in this episode. I loved her claim that she has a doctorate in Lego. It’s funny because in my classic-Who rewatch, I’m currently on "The Edge of Destruction," and the Doctor’s speech about anti-matter reminded me a bit of the First Doctor’s monologue about the formation of galaxies. I will say though, it fell short of some of the better Doctor monologues we’ve had in the past. Regardless, it was nice to see the Doctor nerd out on science and show her passion a little. My only real issue with the Doctor’s characterisation in this episode stems, once again, from her morality.

Chris Chibnall doesn’t seem to know what his Doctor’s stance on guns actually is. It’s not ok to shoot robots or dying spiders, but it’s way okay to shoot the Pting? Yaz and Ronan are both given staser guns to guard the generator. While I am glad to see such an old reference return (as well as the stethoscope!), I’m once again confused by what Chibnall considers an ok time to shoot something. Funnily enough, this episode is exactly how I think the Doctor’s attitude toward guns should be portrayed. Nothing can really kill the Pting, so it’s really tantamount to a Star Trek officer using a stun setting. But the main idea was that the gun was used as a defence, to protect life and because it was the best option. That should always be the Doctor’s attitude toward guns- are they the best option? The best hope? She’s a Doctor of hope, so of course, she always looks for the best option, but she’s not stupid either. In a lot of ways, that’s what she’s done this series when it comes to guns. But it’s in the dialogue where her aims get muddled. I agree with Chibnall. The Doctor should have a disdain for guns. Guns are the end of hope in most cases. But sometimes River shoots the Silence, Leela shoots some guys in a corridor, and the Brigadier holds off an invasion.

With Astos dead, it’s up to Mabli to take control of the situation, which in her case means considering what’s best for her patients. With Yoss in labour, she needs to help him deliver his baby. Wisely, she allows the Doctor to do what she needs to do to save everyone’s lives. With the Pting eating at the ship's systems, they decide they need to find a quicker way to get to Resus 1. They must fly the ship themselves, which will also alert the security protocols, causing it to detonate, but one thing at a time. The Doctor finds a way to bypass the ship’s auto-pilot and has Durkas, an engineer, build a makeshift neural interface with the piloting system. It’s revealed that due to her years of flying with a neural interface, Eve has developed a condition known as "Pilot’s Heart." Due to this, adrenaline has built up in her system. One big jolt could stop her heart and kill her. The Doctor offers to fly the ship, but Eve insists she’s the best woman for the job, despite the dangers involved.

Around this time Ryan and Graham are learning to rise to the occasion as doulas. Yoss is in full labour panic mode, and needs his guys there to cheer him on! Yaz and Ronan have to grapple with the Pting. After stunning it unconscious, Yaz wraps it in a blanket and bends it like Beckham down the corridor. Go Yaz! The Doctor enters the scene looking for the ship’s detonation device. Clearly, a ship in deep space is too far away for missiles, so the bomb must be onboard. It’s a bit contrived that such a device would exist, but the aforementioned reasons are fine. Whatever. Around this time, the sonic screwdriver boots itself back up, and the pieces all come together for the Doctor. The Pting isn’t eating matter, it’s eating energy.

The Doctor and Yaz locate the bomb and move it to an airlock. She speeds up the detonation so that the building energy attracts the Pting, and just before the device explodes, the Pting swallows it whole, with an adorable look of delight on its little face from the warm glow its tummy. Seriously, as Who monsters go, this thing is freaking cute. The Doctor ejects it from the airlock, and that’s two threats taken care of in one go. Two birds, one stone.

The imminent threat of piloting the ship still looms. While hooked into the interface, Eve was able to control the ship, despite the less than ideal conditions. But without any more adrenaline blockers onboard, her heart gives out on her. She dies a hero, but her work is unfinished. Durkas must now rise to the occasion as a Cicero. It’s more of a poetic solution than logical. Being related to a pilot somehow makes you a better candidate to fly the ship than the Doctor herself. But he does a fine enough job as he flies them to safety.

Yoss has his little boy, Avocado, and Ryan and Graham seem like they’re getting along, but Ryan leaves Graham’s fist bump hanging. And I gotta say, what the hell is Ryan’s deal still? I mean, come on man. He’s stopped asking you to call him granddad, but you could at least give the dude a fist bump. It’s getting to the point where I’m starting to think Ryan is being a bit of a dick toward Graham. Perhaps he’s closed off because the men in his life have abandoned him, but this is getting ridiculous. They’ve been through five onscreen adventures, and several offscreen adventures at this point. They’ve been through a lot, to put it lightly. Travelling with the Doctor should be far more of a bonding experience. While it is better to show than tell, Ryan’s standoffishness to Graham is getting old. Graham seems to take it in stride though. You’ve gotta give him credit for that.

Now on Resus 1, Ronan will probably shut down with nobody left to serve. Durkas apologises for not being kinder to him in the past. It’s weird that the Doctor doesn’t offer to take him to some sort of android planet or something. I kind of expected it. Yoss has decided to keep Avocado. Ryan, who was a big part in this decision, helped him come to grips with the idea of being a father by telling him that a father doesn’t need to be perfect, he just needs to be there. The Doctor and her friends are given assurances that they’ll be taken back to the TARDIS after they give their statements. The episode ends with Ronan reciting a kind of litany that Durkas, Yoss, and surprisingly the Doctor all know by heart. All in all, it’s not a bad way to leave the episode. In comparison to last week, there is far more of a feeling of resolution.

As I said, this episode was pretty solid. But one of the things I’m still holding out to see from this series is Jodie’s big "wow," moment. This is in no way me saying she has failed to wow me as the Doctor. I’ve not hidden my total joy over her performance. What I am waiting for is for the fury to come out. Christopher Eccleston spent a good chunk of his series being either sad, bossy, or silly. But when the episode "Dalek," came around, we got to see another side to his Doctor- his scary side! How about with the Tenth Doctor doomed the Family of Blood to an eternity of torture? Or how about when Eleven stared down his companions with intimidating eyes because he could see they were lying to him? I’m still waiting for Thirteen to get scary. We saw it come out in a microscopic amount when she warned Krasko not to threaten her. But I’m still waiting for that moment.

Thus far she’s been a rather friendly and forgiving Doctor. She’s shown more compassion than contempt. I’m waiting for one of the writers to give us a truly morally ambiguous moment of the Doctor. And no, having conflicting morality about guns doesn’t count! I was hoping that this episode would be the one. We would finally get that truly contemptible villain, and we’d get to see her dark side come out. If they’re going to make the brave decision of excluding Daleks and other classic baddies, we deserve a new one of the same calibre. What this episode gave us instead, was a pretty solid base in peril episode. I won’t fault it for not being the big evil monster I was hoping for, because what we got instead was pretty effective.

Again, we’re only halfway in. There’s plenty of time to up the stakes. We need a good dose of danger. I’d like to see some more planet threatening terror. We need more timeline meddling other than one racist pissing in the wind against change. But despite the lack of fear, this episode had one thing going for it above all else. This episode had a lot of heart. It may not have been a heart-stopping thrill ride, but in there were real moments of joy. Having a threat that was so cute was actually a welcome surprise. It wasn’t trying to be a big bad villain. Here’s to hoping that the second half of series eleven amps up the danger factor!

#Doctor Who #thirteenth doctor #jodie whittaker #chris chibnall #pting #ryan sinclair #yasmine khan #yaz #graham o'brien #the Tsuranga conundrum #series 11 #bbc #tardis #sonic screwdriver #time and time again

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Huntsville Arkansas Cheap car insurance quotes zip 72740

"Huntsville Arkansas Cheap car insurance quotes zip 72740

Huntsville Arkansas Cheap car insurance quotes zip 72740

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My father has recently passed and his house is currently vacant. It is a small home only around 1,000 sq. ft. It hasn't been estimated recently but I would guess it's value around $60,000. Homes in the area are going for foreclosure for less than $30,000. My son plans on living in the home a year from now. How should we insure the home in the mean time? If we can find someone we know and trust we may rent it out in the mean time, if not, how should we? The home is currently in my sister and I's name. What do we need to do to keep costs down? I'm talking about insurance and taxes. Thanks for any advice!""

May have a preexisting condition and i need affordable insurance?

i may have a preexisting condition i will find out monday ,anyway we are on a month to month with a high cobra premium and it is kicking our butts my husband's job closed after 20 yrs we both are not working and if i have a condition how do we pay for it, how can i get i get affordable health with no job .help somebody i feel for people i feel for everyone who needs health care and can't get it what a shame i pray that i am well and the doctor has good news for me so everyone please pray for a good outcome when prayers go up blessings come down and i need your prayers i love my yahoo family some people are rude but for the most part real decent people live here Sorry for my jumby words""

Insurance for pre- existing condition?

My friend was recently diagnosed with a brain tumor, she has scheduled a MRI for march and then they will determine whether she can go through surgery. The problem is she had recently exchanged jobs (just prior to the tumor news), and apparently cannot be covered with her present Insurance company as her condition is pre-existent. Now, the tumor is located in the fourth entricle of the brain (where the spinal/cerebral fluid is housed). She will probably need Chemotherapy. Can she be re-insured or covered by a different plan.? Can a single mother qualify for medi-care instead? She is in TX""

How soon until my fiances Insurance covers me getting married next week URGENT?

What will happen with my car insurance?

ok so i was driving my brothers car and i have my g1 i went to money mart and back home about an hour later police came knocking on my door asking if my brother was in a car accident so we went down to the station and the officer asked if i was driving his car i said yes , he then said that the other man that was sitting in the station got my plates and said i hit his car and cracked his bumper (very minor crack) so i said no and then officer assumed i was lying and made me write up an accident report. after when i was leaving the station the other guy asked if we could solving this without going through insurance so we exchanged numbers (their was no damage at all to my brothers car & no paint or anything on their car to prove i hit it) the next day they called and said the want a whole new bumper they dont want it patched up and they would get me a price quote they then got me a quote for $1475 for a while new bumper from ford i told them im not paying that much the only way im replacing the bumper is if my mechanic does it he said ok so i went to my mechanic told him the whole situation and he said i shouldnt be replacing the whole bumper for somthing that small but he still ordered the bumper for me i had to put a $400 down payment for the bumper and $300 after its put on. the bumper came in 2 days later and they brought their car for it to be put on when we got there they got pissed off and said this isnt a bumper straight from ford and they dont want it and left ( the bumper was brand new for the same model car and had the exact paint coat match just that it wasnt from ford) they then call me threating to take it through insurance if we dont get it from ford so i lost the $400 down payment for the bumper because they cant return it after its painted so i told my mechanic to order it from ford. but when he called for they said the dont have bumpers for that model anymore, i then call the people back and told them to take it through insurance because my mechanic cant get that bumper. So what will happen to my brothers insurance hes under 25 with his g2, and i had my g1 but it was on private property where they said the incident occurred the officer even said he cant charged me because its private property PLEASE HELP!""

How much does a moped cost?

I am looking into a cheap way to get around town and someone told me mopeds are pretty cheap. but i need to know how cheap. How much does a moped cost new? how much would gas cost me on average? what about license and registration? would i have to buy insurance and if so how much does that cost? links to a site that would tell me these things would be very helpful. thank you for your time. (i am an 18 year old female and this will be my first vehicle and first time driving anything, i don't know if that makes a difference)""

Health Insurance in RI?

Im 25, married, with a 1 year old baby.Im trying to find a family health insurance plan for my family.The company that I work for offers health insurance but the rates are very high, I can not afford what they offer, however it is hard to find Health Insurance elsewhere because my employer does offer it.What are my options?(I live in RI.)""

Can I still use my provisional car insurance?

I passed my test today, but my mum won't let me alter my insurance because she says I can still use my provisional insurance, as long as I have somebody in the car with me and don't go on motor ways . Is this true, or do I need new insurance?""

Do I need to have insurance to drive a car across country?

The car is registered in California under a family member's name. I'm 18 living in Pennsylvania. I want to be able to drive this car from California to Pennsylvania. So do I need to register for insurance before i start driving the vehicle across country?

Insurance ........................?

i m working for a insurance company and doing 100000 rs business(premium collected in regular plans what should be myjustified salary

Which car insurance company is cheapest on international licence in uk?

Home and contents insurance application form?

i need one of these for my commerce assignment where can i get one from.

Where can I get affordable child only insurance in Virginia?

We had Virginia FAMIS but they took it away after my husband got a new job. Though he does make more money now there is no way I can pay 200$ a month for my son to be added to the company health insurance! I work, but they take out 340$ a month for child care out of my check! Why doesn't FAMIS consider things like this? Anyway it seems everywhere I check for child only insurance it doesn't seem to exist. They want you to have a parent on the policy as well, and I really don't have money for that!""

Health insurance options for a college student?

One of my best friends is headed off to college, but she doesn't have health insurance, and her parents won't allow her to stay on theirs (they can't afford it, either). I'm concerned for her and obviously want to know if there are some options for her to get some affordable but decent health insurance. What are her options? For the sake of this question, assume that her university does NOT provide their own student health care options. Thanks in advance!""

How much does a sr22 policy cost?

I caught driving with out insurance. Now I have to carry an Sr22 policy. I was wondering if any one knew what that's going to cost. I drive a 97 f 150. I don't need exact numbers just a ball park. Thank you

What is the comparison between permanant life insurance and Roth IRA?

Advantages if any Disadvantages if any

Pregnancy insurance. I might not be eligible for medicaid.?

does anyone knows about any low cost pregnancy insurance?

Is it true people cannot afford health care insurance?

Is it true people cannot afford health care insurance? Or would many rather spend their money on weed, crack, strippers, whores, booze, cigarettes, gambling, body piercings, tattoos, cell phones, internet, cable, eating out, fast-food and other luxuries? People can afford health care; they chose to spend their money on other things.""

How much would insurance cost for a Porsche Boxster 2013?

I'm 18 my mom offered a Porsche boxster 2013 for my first car. She's putting a down payment and co signing it for me. But I was wondering how much the insurance would cost? Please help? And also if I should stick with this car or not?

What is a good affordable medical insurance for the California Area?

Medical insurance questions?

I've been considering on going to a psychologist, however I do not want my parents to find out. I still live with them and I am going to be 22 soon. I am still under their insurance. I have the means to go out on my own and I can pay the copay on my own. I am not sure how it works when you use insurance. Will my parents be able to find out through my insurance? (For example, will insurance alert them in any way?)""

What is the best / most reliable life insurance company?

I am a healthy 18 year old. Soon to move out of home and onto college. I plan for the future. I know how important it is to pre plan, I myself and going into the funeral business. What Life Insurance company offers affordable and reliable policies of $100,000 for a healthy young 18 year old male? How much would the monthly premium cost?""

I am looking at becoming a taxi driver and i am looking for quotes for insurance?

i need to find out how much it would cost me for hire and reward car insurance for the taxi and chauffering service on britians roads and if possible if i am able to pay with weekly payments

Is the new ford mustang a good 16 yr old car?

I'm either preferring that or a Chevy Avalanche. Which would be safer/better performance?

""Does anybody know of the cheapest car insurance company in Hamilton, Ontario?""

Getting car insurance these days is getting ridiculous...I've gotten quotes for $500, etc. but there has to be something cheaper out there. I'm getting an old car, so just basic insurance would be fine, so I can legally drive. Does anybody know of the cheapest car insurance company in Hamilton, Ontario?""

Second car insurance?

If I had a leased car with full coverage ($20,000 car), how much more would it cost each month to have liability insurance on another car. How much would each cost separately? (assuming 25 years old, good record, one driver would drive both cars).""

Rental car insurance?

I want my sisters friend to rent a car for me, because i am only 19. But i want to make sure if i buy rental car insurance that i will be covered because she wont be with me. Anything helps""

Do Muslims pay more for insurance?

I live in Slough, Bucks. My car insurance is very expensive due to where I live. Some insurance companies wont even provide insurance at all in my area. I looked at a map at an insurance brokers that showed high risk areas and I have noticed that the high risk/expensive areas happen to have a high Muslim population. Are the government aware of this.""

Married people question. How much do you and your spouse pay for full coverage insurance for two cars?

Thanks in advance for your replies.

How soon until my fiances Insurance covers me getting married next week URGENT?

Cheap car insurance for newly leased cars?

I am looking to start my own insurance with out my parents, I already consulted and figured out that I am about to lease a 2010 Honda Civic DX coupe. I am looking for the most reasonably cheap plan, any advice?""

Health insurance plans?

I live in Florida and I'm a college student. I want to know what are good affordable insurance companies for college students or people in general. I prefer to know about those that are well known and have a long record history and not some sketchy insurance company. Thank you!

Car insurance for older people?

im trying to renew my grandads car insurance,(hes 81) and looking for a cheap company that can beat his current price of 537pounds a year. thank you for any sugestions""

Car insurance for a teenage female?

i'll be turning sixteen soon and im curious as to what the average cost rate with state farm for a new driver is?

What are good insurance companies for young drivers?

I've used comparison sites and the cheapest quote was 850, Aviva was 690 are there any other good companies that offer cheap insurance to young drivers? I do not want one of those box things. I'm 20, held my licence for 20months and have 1y no claims.""

Car and car insurance?

Okay so I want to buy a car. My credit score is 633. I am 19 and in january I opened 2 credit cards which I pay my bills on time. I also have a phone bill i pay on time. If i wanted to buy a 10,000 dollar car or maybe 8,000, I was wondering how much my APR would be and how much my monthly bill would be. Also how much I would have to put down on the car at first. And I was also wondering how much my insurance cost would be seeing that I am a 19 year old female with 2 tickets on her driving record. (One for speeding, one for phone use.) i just need a rough estimation... Thank you :)""

No Insurance!?

No Insurance!? How much do you think a tooth will cost to be pulled?

How much would insurance cost around for a 2002 ford explorer for a 16 year old?

please don't tell me it depends and such...i just want a range Thanks

Teen car insurance (I NEED HELP KNOW!!!)?

I'm 16 year old and i want to get an car insurance for on my own policy separate from my parent how much would it cost if my car was a 2005 Ford Mustand Gt and i was leasing it out.

HOw much does PIP insurance cost in miami florida?

does anyone know how much would PIP insurance cost for a 18 year old female driving a white 2002 SATURN SL2 in miami florida

How much of your pay check would you take out for Health insurance?

this is my first job that offers health benefits. I am new to this and having problems deciding if i need to get it or not. My company is offering both HMO and PPO for about the same price. Both cost around 70 per check, but i only make around 850. That is almost 10%. Should i shop around or should i just go ahead and get it or not have insurance at all. I dont even like going to the doctors but i would like to have health insurance just in case. My deductible for ppo is 500. I dont even know what that means. any advice would be helpful. thank you""

Auto insurance for a teenager in a mustang?

I'm a female, 16, turning 17 in June. I have over a 3.6 GPA. I was rear ended about a month ago (not my fault) and I found a few mustangs (2003-2007). Anyway, I was wondering about how much insurance would be. Serious answers please?""

If you work at Progressive Insurance do you get a discount on insurance?

Financing a car with insurance?

I live in NJ so car insurance is expensive enough. I wanted to finance a used car, i would put down around $2500 and finance the other $7500. But when you finance a car you need collision insurance. Is it cheaper with a used car? I don't think i can afford both!""

Can I tax my car with learner driver insurance?

My cars tax is due soon and I understand that in order to renew the tax on it you must have valid driving insurance. As I am currently learning how to drive in my car I was wondering if I could still tax my car even though I have temporary learner driver insurance? Thanks

Looking to get auto insurance... should i get life insurance ?

My brother told me to check out http://quck-insurance-quote.com is this a good site to shop around for auto insurance and life insurance, I drive fast and don't want my girlfriend to have nothing if I die.""

Car insurance I'm paying alone?

I have to buy my own car unlike very other lucky kid that's 18. So after I buy a used car off of craigslist, what do I do? Where do I get car insurance and what's affordable for new drivers ?""

""I broke my brand new phone 2days after i got it, and i was still able to get insurance. Can i replace my phone?

I dripped my phone in a river 2 days after i got it. I called them and they said i can get insurance(but didnt tell them i broke it) i waited a few days and i was wondering if i can replace my phone?

How long does a speeding ticket affect my insurance in MA?

I got in a recent (minor) accident and was shocked at how much my insurance is going up. And it stays there for 6 years. Add that to a couple speeding tickets that are already there, and it becomes a very high rate -- particularly considering that my car is so old and worth so little, I'll be paying half what it's worth in insurance each year. When I was talking with my insurance agent about how much it would go up, I mentioned that at least the speeding tickets would be leaving soon. She disagreed. My tickets are both over 2 years old already, and I thought they would come off my insurance in 3 years. She says it's 6, just like the accident. I'd like another source to check, and am having trouble finding it. I'm currently in MA, with Commerce Insurance.""

""Where can u get the cheapest car insurance quote on the net or by phone, or any means nessesary?""

Where can u get the cheapest car insurance quote on the net or by phone, or any means nessesary?""

WOULD BEING A VEHICLE BODY REPAIRER AFFECT MY CAR INSURANCE IN ANY WAY?

I NEED TO KNOW IF IT WILL GO UP OR DOWN ON AVERAGE

Live in different states then parent: Car insurance?

Do I have to live in the same state as my dad to have my car under his insurance? I live in NC and he lives in SC if that makes a difference. Thank you!!

Is a Ford KA cheap to insure?

I am a new driver, just passed my test ( im 17 ) and thinkin to buy a ford ka as a first car. Is it cheap to insure tho? Around how much? Thanks""

How much is motorcycle insurance?

Soon I'll be looking to get an '08 or '09 CBR 600 rr. I'm 21, own a car, never been ticketed or anything else in my car. Wondering if that affects my rates at all, or if 21 with a sportbike = brain splatter just registers on their screen.""

How much money would insurance cost for a 16 year old boy with a 1982 dodge ramcharger?

i have allstate and i was just wondering if anyone new. and a ramcharger is a big truck/suv

How soon until my fiances Insurance covers me getting married next week URGENT?

https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/can-someone-explain-how-car-insurance-works-timothy-allen/"

0 notes

chickensarentcheap · 4 years

Text

Sanctuary -Chapter 24

Warnings: mentions of depression, death, grief, sad Tyler, a tad of smut

Tagging: @thunderintheshadows (although you read this already over on Ao3 lol), @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @alievans007, @innerpaperexpertcloud

The meeting is scheduled for one pm. Held in one of the hotel's smaller conference rooms; Nik hosting from Colorado through a secure satellite feed arranged by the FBI. At Esme's insistence, she'd sought out Mark's help, who in turn, had agreed to lend his assistance as long as it was kept strictly 'off the books'. Neither Tyler or Yaz made aware; a need to know situation that Nik was certain they didn't need to know. Not at this particular time, anyway. She'd also managed to convince the hotel management that the team -she'd spun a story about them providing private security for some of Ireland's elite- needed a meeting room for 'strategic purposes', and a hefty money transfer had been sent to them to ensure both their cooperation and their silence.

Yaz arrives last; arms and hands loaded down with bags of food and drink for lunch, along with his laptop and iPad.

“You went back to that coffee shop, didn't you,” Tyler grins, recognizing the logo emblazoned on the front of one of the paper bags. “Was she there? Did you see her? Did you talk to her?”

Esme sits alongside of him, their thighs touching under the table. The need for closeness...both physically and emotional...is overwhelming. On both their parts. As if something or someone was just waiting in the shadows to snatch them away from one another. Bot are nervous. Anxious. All of the missing information, the complexities of the case, the uneasiness that comes with being in an unfamiliar place and not knowing exactly who your enemy is. All mixing together to create a brutal and punishing force. All jobs come with their share of danger. With the unexpected twists and turns that jumped out at you without a moments notice. Always having to think three steps ahead of you; always wanting to ahead of your foes so you could take them by surprised, not vice versa. But this was different. The trouble had started before they ever set foot on Ireland soil. Danger could be lurking around every corner; in every dark alleyway or doorway.

She is feeling it more than the others. It's been almost six years since she'd last been on a job. She had thought that that part of her life was behind her. More than content to give up the almost nomadic lifestyle in favour or a quieter existence. Quite enjoying the routine and the familiarity that comes with being a stay at home mother and a housewife. It sounds old fashioned; the solace found in taking care of a house, in cooking dinners and doing laundry and other various chores, in keeping a husband happy and satisfied, in spending time with her children and loving on them as much as humanely possible. But after years of never forming true bonds with anyone and never having a stable place to live while running from her demons, being a spouse and a parent turned out to be exactly what she'd needed. She'd needed normal. Or at least their version of normal.

At the mention of a girl, she glances away from her laptop, fingers hovering over the keys; in the midst of sending an instant message to Ovi. Both he and Chloe were in constant contact. Always letting her know what is going on at home. Whether it be sharing stories about what the kids were up to, asking questions about things like favourite foods and things that would provide comfort when the little ones were emotional over the realization that both their mom and dad are gone, letting her know that things felt safe and secure and there had been no suspicious activity or threats. At least not yet.

“She was,” the grin that spreads across Yaz' face is enormous as he arranges the food and beverages in the middle of the table, then busies himself with setting up the tech needed to hold the meeting. They're running on Nik time, and her time -in her eyes- is extremely valuable and she expects others to recognize and abide by it. “Her name is Anna,” he says. “Anna O'Brian.”

“Oh how adorably Irish,” Esme quips. “Is she legal? Did you ask to see her driver's licences this time?”

Tyler gives an amused smirk.

“You're getting just as bad as he is,” Yaz complains, nodding in the other man's direction. “He's rubbing of on you.”

“She likes when I rub one off on her,” Tyler says, and then winces when his wife grabs a hold of what little excess fat he has above his hip and pinches as hard as she can.

“What?” he asks innocently. And when she huffs in disgusts and turns her attention back to the laptop, he playfully nudges her in the ribs with his elbow.

“You're disgusting,” she replies. “I can't believe you even said that.”

Yet at the same time, she can recognize the remarkable transformation -one of many- that he's gone through over the past five and a half years. He's no longer on guard twenty four seven; he's able to relax and actually live in the moment. No longer constantly haunted by the horrible decisions of the past. Comfortable enough in his own skin...his new skin...to not only let others in, but to be like everyone else. Sarcastic, humorous, finally content in his own skin. Yet when it's time for the seriousness of a situation to kick in, he will be back to all business.

He'll be the old Tyler again. A transformation so quick and subtle that its as if the new one never even existed.

“I read it's supposed to be good for the skin,” he reasons. “It's probably why you look as young as you do. Like a natural moisturizer.”

“You've got serious issues,” she huffs, and then yelps when he grabs a hold of the back of her knee, squeezing lightly and the proceeding to tickle her mercilessly. “Stop it!” she orders in between the laughing and the hiccups that soon make an appearance. “What is wrong with you? Tyler! For fuck sakes! You're going to make me pee myself!”

“You too make me sick,” Yaz declares, when Tyler finally relents; smiling and winking at her, running a hand over her hair and then pressing a kiss to her temple. “It's gross. The way you two are. All happy and in love and shit. It's been almost six years. Shouldn't you hate each other by now? Isn't this when things go south and you just stay together for the kids?”

“Oh there's days,” Esme says. “Where he is walking a very thin line. Believe me. He's too scared of me to push things too far.”

Tyler nods in agreement. She holds all the power. It doesn't matter that he's a foot taller or ninety pounds heavier. He knows when to just shut up and tow the line. “Then she gets over it when I hate fuck her,” he grins. “She's relatively harmless after that.”

She sighs in exasperation. “So who's this girl, Yaz?” she asks, as she returns to composing her message to Ovi. “Waitress? Bartender? Stripper?”

“Speaking of strippers,” Yaz grins. “Tyler...remember that red head in Russia. The one that kept rubbing her massive...” he gestures to his own chest, mimicking breasts. “...in your face.”

“Oh my god I do not need to hear this!” Esme makes a dramatic gagging noise and places her hands over her ears. “I want to remain oblivious to what he was up to before I met him. Those days didn't exist! I want to pretend they never happened!”

“She had a massive girl boner for your man. She did these things for free. She probably would have given him money for letting her.”

“Yaz...” her eyes are narrow as she glares at him. “...I will punch you in the throat, I swear to God.”

“You remind me of her,” he continues. “With the new hair. Only your boobs are real.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Tyler frowns, and smacks the younger man upside the head as he gets up to grab food. “Don't talk about my wife's body like that. Don't cross that line, mate. Don't make things weird.”

“My knight in shining armour,” Esme grins.

“Slightly tarnished and dented armour,” Yaz suggests to her “You like that one? Give me that one. Are you impressed by me?”

“I'll both accept it and allow it,” she nods. “I'm going to write that one down so when I get down to writing my book entitled 'Shit Yaz Says', I can include it. So who is she? This girl? Don't leave me out of the loop.”

“A waitress. At a place we went to the other day. She gave me her phone number and I wanted to go in and apologize for not calling her yet. I even brought her flowers.”

“Nicely done,” Tyler nods his approval. “You've been taking notes.”

“We're going for drinks tonight,” Yaz excitedly bounces up and down on his heels, like a little kid that just found out the Tooth Fairy now gives out twenties for a molar.

“Drinks?” Esme arches an eyebrow. “So that's what kids call it these days. Just call it what Tyler does. Studying.”

“For the record, I did not start that shit,” he places two plates of food on the table and slides one towards her. It's weird in a way; how you get to know someone so well that you know exactly what they'll eat, and be appreciative of even the small gesture of getting it for them. “I did not call it studying. Ovi said he and Chloe were studying. I just took it from there.”

“Tyler is a huge fan of studying,” she continues, briefly pressing her shoulder into his when he sits down, giving him a smile of appreciation. “He likes to study alone.”

“That is not what I said. I said if I have to study alone, I will. Not that I enjoy it. Just that it needs to be done sometimes. What are you supposed to do when your study partner gets a lot of headaches or doesn't feel well?”

“Excuse you, but when was the last time you heard any of those excuses from me? Months. Declan was still a tiny little thing.”

“You two are both fucked,” Yaz declares, and then adjusts the blinds covering the window; so there isn't too much sun streaming into the room and preventing them from seeing the smart board that Nik will appear on. “T minus six minutes. You guys ready for this shit? It's going to get weird, isn't it. Even more weird than it already is.”

“I have been eating at the buffet of strange all day,” Esme declares, then fills him on everything that has taken place since she'd opened up her eyes first thing in the morning. The strangers outside the hotel room; the nervous shuffling of feet and harsh whispers. How'd she attempted to glimpse a glimpse of them but had been just a few seconds too late. About the housekeeper insisting that no one was staying in the room that Esme had seen...with her own two eyes...the couple emerge from.

“Hmmm...” Yaz says in response to that piece of information, then looks at Tyler from across the table. Pointed stares. Tyler's eyebrows shooting up. So much communicated between them without even needing to use words.

She launches into what she knows about the Buckman family; no hands on knowledge, but history with colleagues that had gone toe to toe with them and had somehow managed to survive.

“They're not a family you want to fuck with,” she says, as she sips from a bottle of water. “This is Amir Asif on steroids. I'm not even joking. If you thought Dhaka went to shit, this has the chance to be a hundred times worse. If this blows up in our faces, it's going to be damn near impossible to get those kids out. Not when it's just one person doing the heavy lifting.”

“You think we need more help?” Yaz asks, and when she shrugs, he addresses Tyler. “You think you need more help? You're the one actually going in. How are you feeling about the chances? Or being able to get both of them? Two kids plus yourself? Do you think you can get all three of you out?”

“I'm fine with it,” Tyler replies. “I'll be okay. I can handle it.”

“Realistically what's the chances?” Yaz inquires. “That you can successfully get two kids out at once and go up against anyone coming at you? It isn't going to be as easy as just walking in there and grabbing them and taking off. There's going to be resistance. Big time. You think you can handle two kids plus all the other shit being thrown at you?”

“I think you need to let me worry about all of that and let me do my job. How many extractions have I done? Tons. Yet you think I'm some kind of rookie just walking in there blind? I know what I'm doing. I can handle getting two kids out.”

“And yourself?” Esme speaks up, not looking away from her laptop.

“We're not talking about that right now. This is about the kids.”

“Your life is just as important,” she gently argues. “Whether you think it is or not.”

“The job is a success if the kids get out,” he counters. “It doesn't matter if I do or not.”

“It matters to me. And to your kids.”

“Maybe we need an extra set of hands,” Yaz suggests. “Someone watching your back.”

“I don't need someone going in with me. What I need is people leaving me alone to do my job. I work better alone. I'll get the kids out. No matter what it takes. That's all that matters. Getting to them and getting the fuck out of there. I've done this before, remember? Have either of you gone in and done the bloody stuff?”

“That's not the point,” Esme says. “How many extractions have you done where you've had two people to get out?”

“None,” he admits.

“Exactly,” she huffs. “What harm does having back up do?”

“It's messy enough with just one person. I don't need someone all up in my ass questioning everything I do. I work alone. I've always worked alone. So just let me go in and do what I have to do. I'll have it under control. You need to trust me.”

“Two kids, two people,” Yaz reasons. “Would make it a hell of a lot easier.”

“Neither of you are listening to what I'm saying. I run this part of things. I call the shots. Not you. And not you,” he gives Esme's thigh a squeeze under the table. “You have to just back off and let me do what I do. You want things to run smooth? Or as smooth as they can? Then keep other people out of the way. That's all I ask. Please...” he presses a kiss to her temple. “...trust me. Just trust me.”

“Fine,” she relents. “But I don't like this. I don't like any of this. Two kids plus yourself? While trying to out run and out gun whoever is going to try and stop you? There's no Saju busting his ass to clear a path. There's no Nik and the team providing tactical support. There's no G to act as a sniper like he did in Dhaka.”

“You were a sniper,” Yaz points out. “In the corps.”

“I was not a sniper. I merely acted as one from time to time.”

“But you still did it,” Tyler says. “When you had to.”

“Oh hell no. You two are not putting this on me. I came here to help with intel. That's it. That is as far as I'm going. You two are not dragging me down into some fucked up rabbit hole because one of you is too stubborn to ask for outside help and the other just puts his tail between his legs and agrees to whatever the first one says. No. I'm not doing this. I won't do it.”

“You've got the experience,” Yaz continues. “And I trust you. Tyler trusts you. You can handle it. And we don't have to drag more people into this. Your intel stuff will be down by then, right? So why not stick around and help out? Better than bringing in outsiders, don't you think?”

“And you agree with this?” Esme address her husband. “You think this is a good idea? Getting me even more involved in this than I already am?”

“I trust you,” he says. “If there's anyone I want having my back...”

“This is fucked!” she cries. “You're both insane. What in the actual hell is wrong with the two of you? Where did all the common sense go? Both of you used to have tons of it and now it's just gone. It's disappeared. How does any of this make sense? How do I go from being the intel person to suddenly being tactical back up? Explain to me where this all went wrong.”

“You don't have to actually go in,” Tyler explains. “Just be there. Like G was in Dhaka when I went to see Ovi's captors.”

“Just be there in case you're needed,” Yaz adds. “You know this is going to go to shit. They're going to have a lot of fire power. And Tyler can't get those two kids and himself out of there and be one hundred percent effective when engaging. It's impossible. Not with two little kids tagging along. Just hang out. Find a nice high perch somewhere. Wait and see if you're needed.”

“This is crazy,” she runs her hands over her face. “This is just all so crazy. What are the chances of any of us actually surviving this?”

“Did you make it out of Dhaka?” Tyler inquires. “Did I not find a way to keep you alive? To get you across the bridge?”

“That's not the same thing and you know it.”

“I'll get you out of this too, ” he says. “I promise.”

****

“Talk to me,” Nik says in trademark fashion. “Who has information?”

“Esme knows the Buckmans. ” Yaz speaks up, and his sister arches a quizzical -yet extremely interested- eyebrow.

“I don't know them. I know of them. There's a huge difference.”

“What do you know?” Nik asks.

“I only what I've heard through the grapevine. In the circles that I travelled in. Word gets around. Especially about families like that. The old man was killed ten years ago. Everyone suspected it was a hit, but no one every really knew for sure. It was all hearsay. Water cooler chatter. And I saw his file. His rap sheet was enormous. There were charges on there that should have had him rotting away in jail. Yet he always found a way out of and around things.”

“Are they dangerous?”

“They were back then. When the old guy was running things. I've been out of this for five years, Nik. I'm not exactly up on all the gossip. They were powerful. Probably the most powerful crime family out there. But they were quiet about it. Always flying under the radar. But people knew about them and people feared them and that was enough. They had access to all kinds of shit. Money can buy you a lot of toys. Extremely dangerous and scary ones. So if the daughter really is running the show...”

“She has the same kind of resources and money available to her,” Nik concludes.

“And the pictures,” Esme taps her fingernails on one hand against the tabletop as she speaks, using the other hand to bring up the photos of Heather Buckman on the laptop. “The ones someone gave to Tyler. The ones with the kids are very real. There's no doubt about that. You can't fake that kind of terror in someone's eyes. Especially kids. But the wife? Those are not real, Nik. It gets more and more obvious every time I look at them. First of all, it makes no sense to keep mother and kids in two different spots. That's two separate places you have to constantly man and monitor. Second, she's only been given a minor working over. Nothing like the kids. The hair was a nice touch, but it was too much. Too much effort into trying to make something look real.”

“Any way of figuring out where she or the kids are being held?”

“Based just on those pictures? No. There's thousands of places that could look just what it's in the photos. Without actually narrowing down locations, it's impossible. What's the chances of going into McMann's house?”

“I can get you into anywhere you feel the need to be,” Nik confidently declares. “What are you thinking?”

“I'm not even sure to be honest. But maybe there's something there that can give us some sort of clue. It's a long shot. But...”

“I'll arrange it and contact you. In the meantime, I have a couple places for you to check out. I want you go in and ask some questions. Tell them that you're a journalist from over the pond that received an anonymous tip that there's trouble brewing between the IRA and a New Zealand crime family. That should be enough to loosen some lips. Charm them. Get them to warm up to you. Flirt with them if you have to. Pull out all the stops. I don't care how far you have to go to get information. Just get it. I'm sending the address to your SAT. It's a bar in downtown Belfast. Owned by an active IRA member.”

“She's not going alone.” Tyler speaks up. “No way. Not into something like that.”

“You tag along but you stay outside,” Nik says. “I don't want you in there. They'll recognize you when they see you and we can't have the two of you being connected in any way. Stay across the street. Or somewhere they won't spot you. But no more than a hundred yards away. Make sure you're armed. Just in case.”

“She should be armed too,” he suggests.

“They'll make her for sure. We can't take that chance. She goes in alone and does what she needs to do. You stay outside and keep an eye on things. You only go in if things go to shit and you have no other choice. Understand me?”

He nods.

“I have someone coming to meet you. He'll be there between six and nine pm, you're time. He's from Dublin. He's reliable. He's bringing you some more ammo and some weapons. He's on the up and up. You can trust him. Have you talked to McMann? Does he know that you're onto him?”

“I'm meeting with him tomorrow morning,” Tyler says. “He wants to talk. See where we are at with things. To be honest, I want to fucking strangle him.”

“Well try not to. I know you're pissed. And I understand it. But you should let him know. That you know everything he told you about his New Zealand extraction was a lie. Maybe if you lose it on him it will get him to talk. He knows more than he's letting on. Maybe seeing you pissed will scare some sense into him. Tell him everything. About the pictures. About the threats against your family. Lean on him and lean on him hard. As hard you can without physically hurting him.”

“I vote that Tyler at least gets to throw one punch,” Yaz pipes up. “To the throat. Nice and hard.”

Esme nods in agreement.

“Yaz,” his sister address him now. “I've got someone meeting up with you with some new technology. High tech. Ways that we can all communicate without it being noticeable. Ear wigs, bugs, things like that. Inconspicuous. The old radios won't cut it. Too noticeable. I'm sending you his information and you can reach out to him and arrange something.”

“Where are we at on this Erin girl?” Tyler inquires. “The one that showed up at my room.”

“I've done all the digging I can do,” Nik replies. “There is no Erin Ferguson in Belfast that matches her description. I don't know if Esme would have more luck.”

“I can try,” she offers. “But there's only so much I can do. Without facial recognition software and other high tech shit like that, my hands are pretty well tied. I can see if there's any security footage of her entering or leaving the hotel and maybe I'll get lucky with image search on google. But that's a big 'if', Nik.”

“See what you can do. I'm not expecting miracles.”

“How's things there?” Tyler asks.

“There's been no sign of anything even remotely suspicious. No threats. Nothing. But I'm going to stay here and keep the detail I have. Ovi and Chloe are handling things. The kids are happy. Calm. Well, as calm as they can be. You know what you're kids are like. Calm doesn't exactly describe them well. But they're fine. They miss you guys. I didn't realize how much they look and act just like you, Tyler. It's kind of unnerving. Scary even. You have some seriously strong genes.”

Esme nods in agreement, and he gives her a wink and a smile and takes her hand under the table.

“We've come up with a plan,” Yaz informs his sister. “When it comes to tactical support. For when it comes time for Tyler to get the kids out. It's going to be hard. Juggling two kids and fighting back. Because you just know the shit is going to hit the fan and they're going to come at him and they're going to come at him hard. With everything they've got.”

“What kind of plan?” Nik asks.

“Esme can do it. She has the experience. She can just find a place to watch and wait from. If things don't go wrong, then that's all she'll have to do. Watch. If things do blow up...”

“And they will,” Esme speaks up. “Because if Dhaka as bad as it did, this is going to go a hundred times worse. And that's being fatalistic. That's being realistic. These people? They're capable of bad shit. Horribly bad shit. They make Amir Asif seem tame in comparison. Dhaka was a shit show. This is going be Dhaka on a massive dose of steroids.”

“But will you do it?” Nik asks. “Can you do it? Because I think we all understand if you can't.”

Esme sighs, pushes her hair behind her ears. “I can do it,” she confidently. “I don't want to do it. But I will. Only because it's Tyler.”

****

They make love. The drapes drawn across the window; rays of sunlight poking through the small gaps in the fabric. His hands on her hips as she straddles him; guiding every slow, deliberate movement. Sex has always been what they do. A coping mechanism. The most pure yet raw way of experiencing the deepest and most primal form of intimacy. Driven out of need and desperation; fuelled by worry and stress and the fear that each time may be the last. So many unknowns lying ahead of them. The future suddenly terrifying unstable.

When she comes undone -nails scrapping painfully down his chest, his name exploding from her lips- he gives her little time to recuperate. One strong arm wrapping around her waist and throwing her down onto her stomach, legs flat against the bed, a knee pushing her tights apart before settling himself between them. Pausing long enough to run the tip of his tongue all the way down the length of her spine; eliciting a whimper from her, her entire body trembling from both the new sensation and the aftermath of her powerful orgasm. His hands running over her shoulders, fingertips grazing over her ribs and down to her hips, once more gripping them tightly as he pushes into her. The friction intense; the press of her body against the bed, the tightness of those barely spread legs, his hips sinking as far into her as they possibly can. A low, feral growl erupting from within his chest as he bottoms out inside of her. Dropping his head, longer strands of hair brushing against her bare skin as his teeth nip at her shoulders and the back of her neck. Holding back as he revels in the sensation of being so deep inside of her, until her hand is lifting up and blindly grabbing at his hair; a clear indication for him to continue. And he captures her hand in hers, holding her arm above her head, pinned to the mattress as he pulls out entirely and then slides back in with such force that it pushes her body up the body and causes her to cry out into the pillow underneath her.

His control is non existent. He'd felt it slipping away inside that conference room. Everything was going to shit and he knew it. The disaster was inevitable; looming on the horizon like some dark, threatening cloud that you can't possibly outrun. Things have already gone so wrong. The worry and the fear are already overwhelming. The stress all consuming. And he is physically channels those emotions; using her body as a way to relieve some of the burden. Bruising, painful thrusts that have her whimpering and crying out, his name repeatedly tumbling from her parched lips. Her nails digging into his fingers with enough force to break the top layer of skin, her other hand grasping at the sheets below. And he kneels above her, free hand sliding between her and the mattress, fingers pushing past her sopping lips to find her clit. Slowly rubbing at it until the second orgasm hits; tears streaming down her face, his name being screamed loud enough for anyone in the hallway or adjacent rooms to here. Continuing his ministrations until she's coming a third time; her eyes wide, delirious sounds escaping her. Fucking her until she can't quite possibly can't handle any more; both hands biting into her hips as he pushes his pelvis against her ass and empties himself inside of her. Sweat dripping from his brow, the droplets glistening on her bare skin.

Afterwards they rest. Letting their bodies settle. Their minds absorb -and fixate- on all of the information they'd be given early. He lays on back, a forearm over his eyes, a hand on Esme's hip as she naps on her side, ass tucked against his hip. He hears her stir; the long, soft sigh that she releases, followed by her quiet, sleepy voice.

“Tyler?”

He switches positions, rolling over onto his side; front pressed tightly against her back. The hand that was on her hip now coming to rest on her shoulder; palm gliding all the way down her arm, fingertips passing over her wrist and down onto the top of her hand, then retreating and sliding back up again, until his hand settles on her ribs.

“Yeah?” he asks, and presses a kiss to her shoulder.

“Are you okay? You seem...I don't know...different. Distant. Ever since the meeting with Nik.”

“I'm fine,” he assures her. “Just a lot on my mind.”

“Like?”

“Lots of things. About us. About you.”

“Bad things or...?”

“I'm just worried,” he admits.

“About?”

“You.”

She brings her arm across her body and places her hand over his, lacing their fingers together.

“I don’t want you going there,” he says. “To that bar. Alone.”

“You’ll be outside. A hundred feet away.”

“Outside,” he stresses the word. “You’ll be inside. Alone.”

“I’m only going in there to ask some questions,” she reasons. “See if I can’t lure them in. Get them to talk. Or send me in the direction of people who will. What do you think is going to happen?”

“They’re IRA,” he reminds her. “They’ll be armed. What if they make you?”

“They won’t. I know what I’m doing.”

“Do you?”

She sighs, slipping her hand out of his and then rolling over to face him. Their heads sharing the same pillow, the ends of their noses practically touching.

His hand moves to her thigh now, stroking it softly.

“Remember in the elevator?” she asks. “When that kid was armed and I was freaking out? And you said you weren’t some rookie?”

He nods.

“Well neither am I. This isn’t the first time I’ll be doing this. I spent years going into worse places. Mingling. Being accepted. Getting people to open up to me. I’ve deal with some pretty scary, hard core people and not once did I ever get made. You need to trust me, Tyler.”

“I do trust you. You’re my wife. I trust you with my kids, don’t I?”

“It’s not the same thing and you know it. I’m not talking about the trust that comes with sharing a life together. Sharing a bed. Sharing children. I’m talking about the trust that comes with the job.”

His brow furrows. “You’re not in the job. You never have been. And I don’t want you to be.”

“Then why am I here?” she challenges.

“Because I need your help.”

“Which means I’m in this. Whether you like it or not. You brought me into this, Tyler. I was more than happy to stay home and take care of a house and give you babies and raise those babies. That is what you wanted. You made that clear as soon as we got married. You wanted a housewife. You wanted someone to give you kids. You wanted a family. You wanted everything your mother was and then some. And I went with it. Because I knew it was what you needed. I knew you needed that normalcy. That if you were going to successfully balance the job and a regular life, that you needed things a certain way at home. And I’ve given you that. Or I’ve tried to, at least.”

“You have. You know you have. And you know how much I love you. How much I love my kids. How much I love our life. And you’re right. I did need all of that. I still do.”

“But I had a life before you. I had a life before all of this. Before marriage and kids.”

“I know.”

“And it bothers you to even think about. You hate thinking about what I was like before you. But this was my life, Tyler. Before you ever existed in it. I lied to people. I conned them. I made them trust me. Then I let other people…people like you…destroy them. And I was good at it. Damn good. Other mercenaries trusted me. So why don’t you?”

He regards her intently, drawing in a long, shaky breath, teeth grazing against his bottom lip. “Because it’s different.”

“How? And I’m not trying to be difficult. I’m genuinely curious. How is it different?”

“Because you weren’t married to any of them. I’m your husband. The father of your kids. They didn’t have any ties to you. I do. I love you. And I don’t want anything happening to you.”

“You trusted me in Dhaka,” she points out.

“Dhaka was different.”

“How so?”

“Because it fucking was,” his last shred of patience finally snaps, and he hates himself for it. How he doesn’t have a logical and sound explanation for why he feels the way he does. “Things were different then,” he attempts, and rolls over onto his back, running his hands over his face before sitting up and leaning back against the headboard. “We were different then.”

“We were just fucking then, you mean. Back then, I meant nothing to you. I was just some desperate and lonely girl. A warm body for you to occupy yourself with. It was easier for you that way. To just let me do what I needed to do because I meant absolutely nothing to you. It wouldn’t have mattered back then if something happened to me.”

He gives a derisive snort and shakes his head, then reaches for a bottle of water on the nightstand. “That’s bullshit and you know it. You meant something. Even then. I don’t know what it was. I can’t explain what I felt. I just know I felt it. I just know you meant something. Stop tying to fucking psychoanalyze me all the time. I know what I felt. About you. About what was happening. I shouldn’t have to explain it.”

“It was sex, Tyler. There’s nothing wrong with admitting it. That that’s all it was.”

“That’s not all it was. Maybe it started out that way. Maybe that’s all I wanted at first. ��But it changed, okay? Some time in those five days. I don’t know when or how. Just that it did. I knew I wanted more from you. That we could have something fucking amazing if we actually tried. If we trusted one another enough to try. And we were so close. So fucking close. To getting that. To getting to that boat and never looking back and just seeing where things took us.”

“Do you regret the path we had to take to get to where we are now?”

“I don’t regret anything. Do I sometimes wish things were different? That things didn’t go so wrong in Dhaka? I wish that all the time. That we just got across the bridge and got the fuck out of there. But we didn’t. Things happened the way they did. We can’t go back and change that. Do I wish we could have had more time to get to know each other? Before we found out we were having a baby and decided to get married? Yeah. Sometimes I do wish that. Only because I think it would have been better for you.”

“Tyler, I have you. I have our kids. How much better do you think I need things to be?”

“I don’t mean better in that way. I mean…I don’t know…easier…” he swallows half the bottle of water, and she plucks it from his hand and finishes it before pushing herself up onto her knees and shuffling towards him. “…don’t make me talk about these things. Please. Just don’t.”

“You’re doing fine,” she assures him, as she straddles his lap, a gentle smile on her lips as she pushes her fingers through his hair, nails scraping along his scalp before resting clasping her hands together at the nape of his neck. “What are you so scared of?”

“Nothing. I’m not scared of anything. I just don’t want to talk about shit like this. This isn’t me. You know that.”

“I think it is. Deep down. I think you need to talk about these things or you wouldn’t bring them up in the first place. Talk to me…” she pecks his lips, then rests her forehead against. “It’s okay…you can do this…you can be this way with me…you know that…”

He sighs, eyes closing as his palms run along her thighs, over her hips and up her back. Stopping briefly at her shoulders; fingers pressing into the flesh before his hands slide back down again, coming to rest of her sides.

“It’s okay…” she repeats. “Tyler…look at me…”

He opens his eyes. Brilliant blue locked on chocolate brown. And in that moment, Esme realizes that in almost six years, she’s never seen him like this. Not even when he was in the hospital fighting to not only heal, but to regain some sense of control over his life. Looking so confused and lost. Worried.

Vulnerable.

This big, strong and seemingly man for once wearing his heart on his sleeve.

“Tyler…you can say it. Whatever you need to say. You don’t have to do this. Keep things from me. Please. Just tell me. Talk to me.”

“Sometimes I think you hate me. For making things so hard on you.”

She blinks. “What?”

“For having to make the decisions you did. For having to give up your life. The job. Everything changed when we met. Everything changed once things went to shit on that bridge. I changed. So did you. And you could have just walked away afterwards. But you didn’t.”

“Because I didn’t want to. Because I wanted to be with you. You didn’t force me to stay. I stayed willingly.”

“But things were hard. They sucked. Huge. You shouldn’t have had to see the things you did. Hear the things you did. You should have just left. When I was in the hospital. You should have just walked away. And sometimes I wonder if you wish you did.”

“Not once have I ever wished that. Not once have I ever hated you. I don’t regret giving up my life for you. Did it suck sometimes? Did I hate seeing you like that? Did I feel like shit because I couldn’t help you more than I already was? Did I hate seeing you in pain and suffering? Of course I did. I hated the circumstances. Not you.”

He nods slowly, eyes never leaving hers, searching for even the smallest hint of regret.

“Do I sometimes wish none of that ever happened? That things never went wrong in Dhaka? Of course I do. I wish every day that you didn’t have to go through what you did. That you didn’t have to suffer like you did. All those months of rehab and all the pain. I would take those away in a heartbeat and you know I would. But everything else? Finding out we were having a baby? Deciding to get married? I don’t regret any of that. I mean, you’re a pain in my ass…”

He gives a small chuckle.

“…but I don’t regret marrying you. Or having your children. And I’ve never hated you. Not even during our worst fights. When you’ve said some brutal and hurtful shit. Not even then. I love you. More than I ever thought I could love someone. And I meant what I said. That there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. But you need to trust me, Tyler. You wanted my help. You brought me into this. And now you have to trust me to do what I need to do. I know what I’m doing.”

“I can’t lose you,” his voice is barely above a whisper, those eyes still locked on hers. “I just can’t. You always talk about how scared you are to lose me. But I’m just as scared as you are. I don’t want to lose you. I can’t do this by myself. Take care of four kids. I just can’t.”

“Yes. You can. You would do it because you wouldn’t have any other choice.”

He shakes his head, finally turning his face away from her when the emotion becomes too much to handle. The rawness of the situation. The blatant, heart breaking honesty.

“You’re stronger and braver than you give yourself credit for,” she says, and presses a kiss to his temple. “You’d be okay. And so would the kids.”

“I don’t…” the tears are hot and bitter as they trickle down his face. “….can we not talk about this….please…I don’t want to talk about this…”

Placing a soft, tender kiss on his cheek, she lays on hand on the back of his head, encouraging him to rest it upon her shoulder.

“I don’t want to talk about this,” he whispers, and then clings to her, arms wrapped tightly around her slender body. “Please…” he begs, barely able to get the words out. “…don’t make me talk about this…”

She tightens her hold on him, one arm wrapped around his neck, the fingers of her other hand pressing into his scalp. “It’s okay,” she assures him. “It’s okay, Tyler. I’ve got you.”

Those words hit with tremendous power. And he surrenders. Finally giving in to all the fear and the worry.

His entire body shaking with the ferocity of his sobs.

#tyler rake #tyler rake fan fic #tyler rake fan fiction #chris hemsworth character #extraction #extraction fan fic #sanctuary

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chickensarentcheap · 4 years

Text

Sanctuary -Chapter 33

Warnings: mentions of blood and violence

Tagging: @innerpaperexpertcloud, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @alievans007, @thorsbathroomchicken, @valkyrie-of-the-light

“Do you smell that?” Esme wrinkles her nose in disgust. “It smells like...”

“Death,” Tyler finishes for her.

“If we find a dead body down here, I am the first one running out screaming. I did not sign up for this.”

“I doubt it's a person. Probably an animal that got caught up in here and couldn't get out. How the hell were you ever in the Corps? Did you never see dead bodies and other gross shit when you were overseas?”

'That was almost fifteen years ago. I don't remember. I've had four kids. I have mom brain. I can't even remember what I had breakfast this morning never mind what I did fifteen years ago.”

“This one time, in Kandahar, on my third tour, we were on patrol and a guy three people in front of me stepped on a landmine and ended up in about a hundred different pieces. Nothing like being handed a shovel and a garbage bag and being told to clean up the mess.”

She makes an audible retching noise.

“Jesus Christ,” he grimaces. “Don't do that. You know that noise makes me puke.”

“And you're the one with the iron stomach and that is what makes you want to throw up? The sound of someone else throwing up? Yet you can impale someone's face on the end of a garden rake and not even blink?”

“That was kind of...gnarly...”

She laughs. “You sounded so surfer dude just then. You can take the boy out of the ocean, but you can't take the ocean out of the boy. Oh God...” she draws the front of her t-shirt up over her face when the smell becomes even stronger. “...I am sorry if I throw up on you, baby. This was not a good idea. Bringing me down here when I've been so sick the last few days.”

“Well I wasn't leaving you alone up there, so....” he reaches over her, placing a palm on the first door they encounter and pushing it open. A hand on her shoulder, applying slight pressure to get her to walk in front of him.

“Oh yeah put me in front so the bad guy gets me first. Thanks.”

“There's no one down here. Just relax. And if anyone comes down here while we're here, they'll come from behind and they'll get me before you. Why else would I do it? Calm down. Why are you shaking?”

“I'm freaking the fuck out. It's like the walls are closing in on me and it feels like I can't breathe. You know I hate tight, confined spaces. Remember the sewer? When I had a panic attack? What did you think was going to happen when you brought me down here? You should have just let me stay up there, outside.”

“By yourself? Fuck no. Just calm down, okay?” He wraps his arm around her, forearm snug against her chest, and pulls her tight against him, dropping a kiss on the top of her head. “Just breathe. Everything is fine. You're safer down here with me than you are up there by yourself. Just breathe.”

She briefly closes her eyes. Inhaling and exhaling slowly. Relaxing in the warmth that radiates off his body and the familiar, comforting scent that clings to his skin and clothes. It is little things like this that puts him in a league all his own; the reason why every man that had come before him no longer matters. The small ways in which he'd show her that he loves her. When he takes the time out of whatever he is doing...no matter how big or how small...to either support or comfort her. Or the way he'll finish household chores without having to be asked. Or when he knows she's struggling to hold her shit together and he'll just throw the kids in the car to get them out of her hair for a couple of hours.

“Good?” he asks, and pressing his lips to her ear. “Calm now?”

She nods.

“Just take it easy. Nothing is going to happen to you if you're down here with me. Go...inside...” he gives her a nudge in the ass with his knee, encouraging her to step into the room. It's pitch black; even with the light in hall way tumbling in. And with one hand firmly on her shoulder, he uses the other to blindly feel along the wall for a switch. Palm coming in contact with nothing but cold concrete. Relegating himself to using the flashlight option on his SAT. “Be careful,” he says, and hands her the phone. “I'm relying on you to be the eyes here. You trip, I'm going down with you. And that'll hurt. Just a bit.”

“I do not want you falling on me. You'll crush me for sure,” she slowly moves the phone in front of her, casting the light on every available surface. “There's nothing here. It's empty. There's no furniture, nothing on the walls, nothing but dirt on the floors. Not cabinets or counters. Nothing.”

'How far back does it go?”

“Maybe another five feet? There's nothing back there, either. I don't think anything ever has been in there by the looks of it.”

“We gotta keep moving. There's a couple more rooms...at least...to check out. Turn slowly. Don't elbow me in the face or the nuts. You'd be devastated if anything happened to either. You okay?

“Yeah, I'm okay.” She does as she's told, overly cautious where she puts her foot and how she turns her body. The room is incredibly narrow. Suffocating. And she breathes a sigh of relief when they finally reach the hallway.

“Keep going,” Tyler instructs, hand once more returning to her shoulder; the gentle yet firm pressure keeping her moving.

Her body is much more relaxed now. Comforted by the strong, solid presence behind her; soothed by his deep voice and the calm yet assertive way he is handling the situation. She's always been the higher strung of the two of them; she's liable to fly off the handle quickly, while he's able to keep his shit together for longer periods of time. There's very few things that send him into an immediate rage. Someone...or something...threatening his wife or his kids being the top culprits.

They search each room with the aide of the phone flashlight, yet find nothing but mould, cement, and dirt.

“Jesus ...fuck...” Tyler grimaces, the worsening smell even bothering him now; so strong and putrid that it makes him gag and his eyes water. “....I'm starting to think I was wrong.”

“Oh God,” Esme groans. “Please don't say what I think you're going to say.”

“Something's dead down here. But I don't think it's an animal. Put your shirt over your mouth and your nose. It's fucking gross and the last thing I need is you throwing up all over the place. You alright?”

“No...not really...” her voice is muffled by the layer of cotton now drawn over the lower half of her face. “You don't think it's Heather, do you? Or the kids?”

“It can't be the kids. We just got proof of life six hours ago. That smell? Well that's the smell of someone who's been down here a while.”

“I can't do this...” panic begins to take hold, and she digs her heels into the floor with such power and force that he has to put his hand against the wall to stop himself from stumbling into her. “I can't...I can't do this.”

“You're fine. Just take it easy. I'm right here. Nothing is going to happen to you. I won't let anything happen to you.”

“There is someone down here,” she sounds close to tears. “Someone dead.”

“You need to take it easy,” Tyler takes hold of her shoulders, turning her around to face him. “Everything is fine. You're fine. Just breathe. Close your eyes, listen to my voice, and just breathe.”

Her eyes flicker closed as she rests her forehead against him. His voice reverberating deep in his chest as he attempts to calm her, hands slowly moving up and down her shoulders and arms.

“Better?” he asks.

“Yeah...a little...”

“I won't let anything happen to you. You're safe with me. You're always safe with me. We have to keep moving. If there's anything down here, we need to find it now. Mark can't keep McMann tied up all day. You good now?”

“I think so.”

“You take the door on the right, I'll take the left. I'm right across the hall. You need me, just yell. Okay?

She nods.

“You're fine,” he assures her, and presses a kiss to her forehead. “There's just the two of us down here.”

“And whoever that smell belongs to.”

“They're dead. They can't hurt you. Got your phone? You're going to need the flashlight.”

She removes her SAT from the pocket of her jeans and holds it aloft for him to see. “I do not want to walk in there and find a dead body.”

“The smell is coming from the left. I'll take that one. Just try and stay calm and call me if you need anything. I'm less than twenty feet away,” he runs a hand over her hair, then places it on the back of her neck and gives her a quick peck on the lips. “You got this.”

****

This room is much larger than the rest; at least three feet wider, several longer, with water and drainage pipes that run across the high ceiling. Condensation glistens on the smooth concrete walls; water drops splatter on the dirt floor. She moves slowly, shining the flashlight over every possible surface, treading through the small puddles and mounds of left over mud. T-shirt stilled pulled over her mouth and nose; preventing the rancid smell from bothering her.

The toe of her runner catches something on the ground; creating a crackling noise that seems to echo throughout the entire room.

“What the hell...” she mutters, as the flashlight beam catches a pile of styrofoam containers that have tumbled out of an overturned black garbage bag. And she cautiously hooks a fingers around the edge of the plastic and draws it back, discovering the remnants of wasted food, plastic water bottles, and aluminum pop cans.

She presses the button on the radio, then continues her exploration of the room. “Yaz...can you hear me?”

“Yeah, I'm here. There's a lot of static. You might have to speak up.”

“Someone's been down here. Within the last few days. There's all kinds of garbage. Take out containers, pop cans, water bottles. The food hasn't even begun to rot yet. You need to get a hold of McMann and find out when the last time was that he was down here. Or if he knew of anyone being down here. I don't know how you're going to do it without letting him know we were here, but...”

“I could call Mark. Ask him to casually work it into conversation. Question him about anything weird he's seen going on at the house lately. I'll think of something. You guys okay down there?”

“I think so. Tyler found a dead body.”

“What?”

“Well he thinks it's a dead body. He's in checking it right now. I'm...fuck!” her knee collides with something; so caught up in her conversation and swinging the beam of the flashlight along the walls and the ceiling that she hadn't been paying attention to her surroundings.

“You okay?” Yaz asked. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing's wrong. I just...” her eyes widen as the light falls on the object she'd bumped into, and she runs a hand over the smooth wood, then kicks the toe of her sneaker against the broken zip ties that sit in the dirt below. “...you will not believe what I just found.”

“Another body?”

“No. The chair. The chair from Heather McMann's video and photos. I'm going to send you some pictures. To your SAT.”

“Okay. I'll be waiting.”

She turns the flashlight off just long enough to snap photos; pictures of the chair from all angles, followed by the plastic ties on the ground. Her anger growing stronger with each passing second as the truth becomes all to painful clear. It had all been a set up. Heather McMann had never been a victim. She'd been in on it all along. She'd planned and helped orchestrate a sick and twisted plan to get revenge against her husband that included using her children...who'd she'd nurtured and keep alive inside of her for nine months...as pawns. She let people abuse them. Physically. And there was no telling if she'd let the culprits stop there.

Tears burn her eyes; hot and angry. And she quickly sends the photos the Yaz.

“Tyler!” she calls. “You need to...” she turns on her heel, only to find him already standing in the room. “Jesus Christ! Would you stop doing that?! Why do you insist on sneaking up on me like that? You scare the shit out of me every time.”

“We gotta get out of here,” his tone is curt. “Let's go.”

“What's wrong? What happened? What...?”

“You remember that girl I told you about? The one that showed up at the other hotel? Gave me all those pictures?”

“Erin Ferguson. Nik wasn't able to track anyone down by that name. She said the last time there was any sign of her was when she left through the hotel's front doors that same night. What about her?”

“That's who's dead in the next room. We need to go. Now. We need to get the fuck out of here before someone shows up. They weren't done yet. I think we just missed them and I think they're coming back.”

“They definitely haven't been gone long. There's trash...” she points her cell phone in the direction of the bag on the ground. “...lots of it. The food isn't even spoiled yet. This is definitely where Heather McMann was kept. Or should I say, she pretended to be kept. The walls are the same as the ones that were in the videos and the pictures. The chair is even here,” she shines the flashlight upon it. “...she was totally in on this. She planned this whole goddamn thing, Tyler. This is all some sick and twisted game. She's using her own kids...” her voice cracks. “....and who knows what she's letting those people do too them.”

“We can't worry about that right now. We have worse shit to think about. Come on, let's go,” he steps forward, grabbing a hold of her by the upper arm and turning her towards the door. “We need to get the fuck out of here. Now.”

“How did she die? Could you tell?”

“Yeah....I could tell...”

“That bad?”

“That bad,” he confirms. “Just keep going. Walk in front of me,” he steps to the side, back pressed against the wall, pulling her by the arm and placing her where he wants her. “Move. Go. We need to get out of here. Now. Not five minutes from now. Now.”

“You could tell it was her?” she asks, his hand on the back of her neck, fingers digging into the skin. She's never seen him like this. At least not with her. That hurried, almost frantic pace. The harsh tone of his voice. Whatever he'd seen, it had unnerved him, and he was anxious to get away from it. Or get her away from it. If he was alone she was certain this wouldn't be the way he'd react; he'd be calm, cool, collected. It was her presence that bothered him; the thought that if someone did come back, she would be caught in the middle of it.

“I have eyes. I'm not blind. I could see it was her.”

“I didn't mean it like that. I meant, she still...you know...had a face.”

“It wasn't her face that was fucked up. It was everything else. Just drop it. Just keep moving. I do not want to get caught here. Not when you're with me. I need to get you out of here.”

“Tyler, what....?”

“Just go!” he snarls, and puts even more force into the grip on the back of her neck. “I'm not fucking around, Esme. I need to get you the hell out of here. If we got caught here...if you get caught here...well these people don't fuck around and they won't hesitate doing to you what they did to her. If not worse. So please...let's go...”

She relents, allowing herself to be pushed down the narrow corridor. And at the bottom of the stairs, he pushes her against the far wall, then removes the Glock from his holster.

“Wait here,” he orders. “Don't move. Not even an inch. Just stand there and wait for me to tell you it's okay to come up. Okay?”

“Tyler, what is going on? What did you see? What...?”

“We'll talk about it later. Just wait here. Stay quiet and just wait. Got it?”

She nods, pressing her back against the wall, chewing nervously on her bottom lip as he cautiously climbs the stairs; gun at his side, finger already on the trigger. Her nerves are shot; every bundle and ending completely on edge, a brutal headache beginning to settle in the base of her skull, chest impossibly tight. She's seen him on edge before; in Dhaka, when the threats had been everywhere and he'd been determined to get her and Ovi out of there alive. But this is another level of intense. His prey drive incredibly high, the rage in his eyes accompanied by fear and worry. And for a moment she can actually imagine what those young men...Ovi's captors...had felt like when Tyler had kicked down that door and taken them all down. Successfully. The rage and brutality that they had witnessed him inflicting on others while waiting for their own demise. This is the merciless Tyler. The savage Tyler. The one who will stop at nothing to protect the people he cares about.

“Come on,” he finally appears at the top of the stairs. “All clear. Let's go.”

When she reaches the the middle of the stairs, he offers assistance and she curls her fingers around his, comforted by the sheer size and strength of his hands, of the feel of his callouses against her skin. She is used to those hands; the power wrapped up in them, the punishment they can inflict one moment, and the tenderness they can possess the next. Such a juxtaposition; how someone can go from creating pain fear yet be capable of bringing about so much pleasure.

“We should have parked closer,” he laments, hand wrapped tightly around the base of her wrist, all but pulling her through the yard, her much shorter legs having to work twice as hard to keep up with his long, purposeful.

She can see practically she the wheels turning in his head. She knows he's questioning himself; doubting the decision that he'd made. It was second nature with him. The second guessing that often came with the intricacies of the job. He's always been hard on himself; his own worst critic. Exuding confidence on the outside, but struggling internally. And right there's a thousand and one possible scenarios running through that troubled brain of his.

“You didn't want anyone to see the SUV in the driveway,” she attempts to reason, knowing full well that no matter what she says, it won't be good enough. Once he's in this mindset...the job mindset...there's no reasoning with him. He becomes an entirely different person; the patience and the tenderness gone, replaced by a different Tyler. The old Tyler. The one that comes out to play under certain circumstances. Who can be brutal and savage and shows no fear.

“Shit...fuck...” he curses, when a car pulls up and parks alongside the back gate. “...other way...go...move...” he roughly spins her around to face the other direction, and gives a purposeful shove to get her to move. “Don't look back. Just go.”

It's a brisk walk at first, but then the hand around her arm tightens even more; grip tighter, the push behind is more forceful. The grass slick under the soles of her runners; twigs and leafs snapping and crackling with each step. A jog now; a desperate attempt to get away from whoever is now stepping through the back gate, a loud squeak as metal rubs upon metal.

“We gotta split up,” he says, as they reach the front corner of the house.

“What? No. Fuck that, Tyler. We stay together.”

“Go back to the car. I'll meet you there.”

“Are you insane? I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying with you.”

“Esme...listen to me...” his tone is dire, eyes dark and stormy, mouth set in a grim line. “...you need to get back to the car. This is the safest way. It's two blocks south. Just hang a right at the next corner and...”

“No,” she remains steadfast, even as he grabs her hand and aggressively shoves the car keys into it. “I am not leaving you here.”

“These people...those people?” he jerks his head in the direction of the back yard. “They don't fuck around. You don't need to be here. If they get you, you're not going to like where it leads. What happened to Erin? The end result? They'll make what happens before a hundred times worse on you than the did on her. And I do not want that happening to you. You need to go.”

“Tyler...don't do this...please...”

“You go. I need to see who these people are,”

“No! You come with me or we both stay. It doesn't matter who they are. We can find that out later. We either go together or neither of us go.”

“I said go!” he bellows, and pushes her into the into the sidewalk. “Run. And whatever you do, don't look back.”

*****

It's twenty minutes before she sees him approaching the car; watching through the passenger's side mirror as he hobbles towards her. His limp far more pronounced, right forearm across the chest, as if preventing the shoulder from bearing too much weight and strain. His clothes, hands and some of his face covered in dirt and much. And as he gets closer she sees the blood; starting from his hair line and trickling down the side of his face.

It makes her feel nauseous. Seeing him like that. The grimace on his face, the obvious pain he's in with every stride. It doesn't matter how serious of an injury it is; it doesn't have to be a gunshot wound to the next that leaves him bleeding out on bridge in Bangladesh. It can be nothing more than a bloody nose or a split lip and it rocks her to her very core. And she tosses open the SUV door and jumps out, rushing towards him.

“Tyler...oh my god...what happened? Are you okay? What...?”

He doesn't respond. At least not with words. Instead he takes her face in both hands and kisses her; his mouth pressing hard against hers. She can taste his blood and his sweat, yet doesn't pull away. Her hands tightly grasping the front of his shirt; not caring about the dirt and the grim of the blood that transfers onto her own face and clothes. It's a relief; feeling his hard chest and his heart pounding within it, being able to breathe in his scent.

“You're okay,” he says, relief evident in his voice, as he places a hand on the back of her head and holds her again. “You're okay.”

“I'm okay,” she confirms, and just allows him this moment. Letting him feel her against her, his stoic and brave persona disappearing momentarily as tears mix with the blood, sweat and filth. And she feels his body relax against her as the reality sets in that she is there in front of him. In his arms. Alive and breathing.

“What happened?” she tries her best to hold it together. Since his release from the hospital five years ago, he's always been the strong one. Always keeping his shit together during even the darkest and toughest of times. She'd once told him that the only time in her entire life that she'd ever felt safe and protected was when she was with him. And since then he's been holding onto that. Always believing that he has to be that way. That that...the protector, the provider...is what she needs.

Her hands are gentle as they investigate the various wounds on his face and hands; a large gash in the hair line, the bloody nose, the start of a black eye. Knuckles on both hands swollen, bruised and bleeding.

“I'm fine,” he breathlessly assures her. “Don't worry. I'm fine.”

“You don't look fine. Tyler, what the hell happened?”

“They're dead,” he says. “All of them. All four of them.”

“What did you....”

“It doesn't matter. I did it. I...” he lets out a groan and a string of expletives as her fingers press into his shoulder. “...it would be the bad one,” he manages through gritted teeth. “I couldn't fuck up the other one so they'd match?”

“I need to get you to the hospital. You need to see a doctor.”

“No. No hospital. No doctor. I'm fine.”

“You are not fine,” she pushes those wayward locks away from his forehead, gentle fingertips surveying the large wound that travels from the top of his eyebrow and travels several inches into his hair. “Tyler...you are not fine...at all...”

“We gotta get out of here. I put in an anonymous call. To the cops. They'll be swarming all over the place soon. We gotta go.”

“Let me at least call Nic. Maybe she knows someone. A nurse or a doctor that I can take you to see and...”

“I''m fine. I'll be fine. We have to move. You're going to have to drive. I can't...with my shoulder...”

She nods in understanding, struggling to help him along when he drapes an arm around her shoulders.

“Fuck...you're really short...” he manages to tease her. “...did you never grow again once you reached puberty?”

“You said my height was one of the things that attracted you to me,” she reminds him, wrapping an arm around his waist, trying her best to keep him upright and not to be pulled down by his weight. “You said it was cute. That I was cute.”

“Yeah...yeah I did...” he confirms. “...said I could pick you up and put you in my pocket.”

“Among some pretty X rated comments,” she teases him in return. “You're going to have to help me out here. You're insanely heavy. Can you at least get yourself into the car?”

He nods, grunting and swearing as he slides into the SUV, her hand over the top of his head so he doesn't catch it on the door frame.

“Legs,” she orders, and has to help him swing them into the car before shutting the door.

From the supply bag in the back seat she grabs a towel, then climbs in behind the wheel, snags the keys from where she'd drop them on the dash, and shoves them into the ignition. “Here...” she places the towel in his hands. “Tyler...” she grabs a hold of his thigh and shakes vigorously when his head falls forward; eyes glassy, disoriented. “...wake up...stay awake...use this...for your head...”

“What?” his voice is groggy, eyes closing and then opening again, head repeatedly nodding forward.

“Tyler...don't you do this to me...stay awake!” she presses the towel to his head, then grabs him by the wrist and forces his arm across his body, pressing his hand to the fabric now trying to staunch the flow of blood. “...you need to stay awake!” she scolds.

“I am,” he argues, even though that sleepy voice and the continued nods of his head give him away.

“Don't you pass out on me, Tyler Rake. There is no way I can get you of of this car if you pass out.”

“Okay...okay...relax...don't yell...”

“Don't you tell me to relax, you enormous pain in my ass. Here....” she grabs a bottle of water sitting in one of the cup holders, uncaps it and then holds it to his lips, one hand under his chin to catch any spillage. “Drink.”

“I'm not one of your kids. I don't need you to help me. I can drink on my own.”

“Listen, I love you, but I will kick your ass into the middle of next week, you hear me? Stop being so stubborn and combative and let me take care of you. You're bleeding all over the goddamn place, you act like you're going to faint...”

“I'm not going to faint,” he insists. “I'm fine. I'll be fine.”

“Just drink!” she orders, carefully tipping the bottle back and allow some of the liquid to enter his mouth. “Hang onto it,” she says after her swallows, and places the bottle between his thighs. “Keep your eyes open. I look over there and see your eyes are closed, I will pull over and beat your ass, understand me?”

“It's kinda hot when you think you can boss me around,” he quips.

“I don't think I can. I know I can,” she says, as she throws the SUV into drive, tires squealing on the pavement as she speeds away.

*****

“What the fuck happened?” Mark asks, as he and Yaz meet them in the underground parking lot of the hotel. Holding the driver's side door open and offering a hand as Esme slides out; she's at a disadvantage to due to her height, and needs both the aide of his hand and the running bars on the vehicle to safely get out.

“Everything went to shit,” she laments. “Story of our lives.”

“You're okay?” he takes her face in her hands, frowning as his eyes take in the blood and dirt that tarnish her skin.

“I'm fine,” she knocks his hands away from her. “Tyler's pretty fucked up though. Yaz is going to need some help.”

He just stares at her, concern registering on his face and in his eyes.

“Did you hear me? Yaz is going to need some help. Tyler's messed up and there's no way Yaz can get him out on his own. So do you think could stop eye fucking me and help out?”

“He's too heavy for just me,” Yaz says from the passenger side. “Someone want to give me a hand here.”

“I'm fine,” Tyler argues. The grogginess now replaced by sheer orneriness. Annoyed by all the hands touching him, hating the idea of appearing weak and needy. “Just fuck off and let me do it myself.”

“Please?” Esme pleads with Mark. “Help him?”

He nods, then journeys around the other side of the SUV. “Jesus Christ...” he chuckles. “...what does the other guy look like?”

“Dead,” Tyler responds, as he swings his legs out of the car, frowning at Yaz as he slips his hand under his arm. “I can do it.”

“Quit being such an asshole and let them help!” Esme snaps, as she slams the driver's side door closed. “He gets like this,” she explains. “After something happens. He gets totally bitchy and uncooperative.”

Her husband glares at her.

“Just let them help, Tyler. For crying out loud. Quit being so....I don't know...so you.”

“What the hell happened?” Yaz asks once again, as he drapes one of Tyler's arms around his shoulders, Mark following suit.

“It's all fucked up,” Esme laments, as she grabs the bag of gear out out of the backseat; shoving the bloody and dirty towel into it before using her hip to shut the door. “We found where Heather McMann was being help. Or at least where she was pretending to be held.”

“It was all a set up,” Yaz explains, as he and Mark help Tyler hobble through the lot and towards the elevator. “Esme found the room where Heather was being kept. Or where she made it look like she was being kept.”

“And Tyler found a dead body,” she pipes up. “An extremely smelly one.”

“It was Erin,” he says. “The one girl that showed up that night with the photos.”

“You're sure?” Mark inquires. “I mean, if she was dead long enough to smell that bad...”

“She still had a face. It wasn't her face that was messed up. It was everything else. From the neck down. I don't want to talk about,” he drops his voice, so only the two other men can hear as he adds, “...I don't want her knowing about it. About what they did to that girl.”

“That bad?” Yaz inquires.

“Yeah. That bad. Brutal doesn't even begin to describe it. Just...drop it...let it go...at least while she's with us, yeah?”

Both men nod in agreement.

“Nik says she'll have someone come by the room,” Yaz says, as he hits the button for the elevator. “A doctor she knows. It all be keep off the books, on the down low. You don't have to worry about that.”

“I don't need a doctor,” Tyler argues, and then winces when the simple act of leaning back against the wall while waiting for the lift sends shards of scalding, brutal pain shooting across his right shoulder and down his arms, fingers momentarily tingling.

“Yes, you do,” Esme insists, as she stands in front of him, facing him with her hands on his hips. “Tyler, you're a fucking mess. You need someone to look after you.”

“You can do it. You've done it before. In Dhaka. When I've come home after other jobs.”

“This isnt Dhaka and this isn't like the other jobs. I'm not a nurse. Or a doctor. My days of stitching you up with a sewing needle and thread are long behind me, okay?”

“You did that?” Mark asks, obviously impressed.

“I had to. His right arm got all torn up and it had to be done. What was I supposed to do? Let him just bleed out all over the place?”

“She gives really good sponge baths too,” Tyler adds, smirking when Mark gives him a dirty look for even suggesting such a thing. “Well, she does.”

“Can you two stop?” she huffs. “Seriously. Just stop. This is not the time for a pissing contest. It not matter at this moment whose dick is bigger than whose.”

“Or who gives her multiple orgasms,” Tyler tosses out. “Both are me, by the way.”

She sighs heavily. “Stop. Please. I know this is your way of dealing with shit, but you're only stressing me out more. We're going to get your upstairs and get you cleaned up and then someone is going to come and look at you. You don't get a say in this, Tyler. For once, let other people take care of things. You don't always have to be the one taking care of everyone else.”

“I love you,” he declares, and nearly stumbles into her as he leans in to kiss her.

“I love you too,” she says, and burying her face in his chest, holds onto him as tight as she can.

#tyler rake #tyler rake fan fiction #tyler rake fan fic #extraction #sanctuary #chris hemsworth character

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chickensarentcheap · 4 years

Text

Sanctuary -Chapter 54

Warnings: none

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @alievans007, @thordoodaday, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @valkyrie-of-the-light

“You know, I should really beat the shit out of you.”

Tyler glances up from his cell phone as his brother in law joins him on the front porch. He'd only woken up a half an hour before; hair still messy, sleep still clouding his vision, brain still slightly foggy. The lingering effects of jet lag and his body still getting used to being back on the meds. It's four thirty in afternoon and he feels as if he could sleep forever. And while Nik's security people patrol the perimeter of the property and the women have headed into town to grab groceries, he'd retreated to the front porch; a cup of steaming black coffee sitting on one side of him, and the roughly sketched out New Zealand plans (along with a bright yellow highlighter and a pen) on the other. For the time being he's focused on returning the many text messages that Ovi and Nathan -the young Marine- have sent him. New Zealand is still very much up in the air; he hasn't made his mind up yet one way or the other, but promised Yaz and the others that he'd at least look things over.

He smirks, then looks back down at his phone. “You can try if you want, mate. But I don't suggest it. Not if you know what's good for you.”

Tyler wouldn't go as far as calling them friends; close acquaintances, maybe. They talked on occasion; Kyle was the only member of Esme's entire family that wanted anything to do with him and had always been willing to give him a chance, even right from the get go when he'd wandered into their lives as the complete stranger who'd (in Esme's mother's words), 'stole her away from them'. Kyle had argued that his sister was a grown woman who was more than capable of making her own decisions when it came to what -and who- she wanted, and in turn that had ostracized him from most of his family. He didn't give a shit; in the same way Tyler didn't give a shit whether they liked him or what. And they'd bonded over that, along with the fact they both loved her and the kids.

But friends is stretching it. He's an immensely private person; he doesn't even like the people who are considered friends knowing his business.

“Want one?” Kyle asks, as he taps Tyler in the shoulder with the six pack of beer that dangles in his hand.

He shakes his head. “I told my wife I wouldn't drink anymore. I meant it.” He couldn't control it when he did; one would turn into two and two into half a dozen and pretty soon he was close to polishing over a case of twenty four on his own and was drunk off his ass. He'd been sober for a year and a half following Dhaka; the time in the hospital and all the rehab had him getting clean and sober. But he'd gone back on the job and the things he started both seeing and doing again had been too much to handle and booze had been a lot better than going back to the drugs. Or at least in his mind it had been.

“Things were getting out of hand?” Kyle takes a seat beside him on the top step.

“You could say that.”

“Guess it's probably best to avoid it when you're on meds anyway.”

It's a casual comment; thrown out there to see if it will get a reaction from Tyler. It doesn't. All he gives is a simple, “Guess so”, and takes a sip of his coffee.

Kyle takes a swig of his beer, then leans forward and picks up the pieces of paper that sit on the step below them; briefly scanning them, a frown on his face.

“None of your fucking business,” Tyler says before his brother in law can even ask, and he snatches the papers from Kyle's hand and places them beside him, underneath his coffee mug and cell phone. “If you're here to bust my balls about something, I'm not in the mood.”

“She's my sister.”

“Yeah? Well she's my wife.”

“Your pregnant wife,” Kyle points out. “And you're seriously thinking about going and doing this? Whatever the hell is going down in New Zealand?”

“Like I said, not your fucking business.”

“She is my business. She's my kid sister. It doesn't matter if she's married to you or not. I still have the right to protect her. To want what's best for her.”

“And you think I do that? Protect her? You think I don't want what's best for her?”

“How is leaving her here to go back to work what's best for her? When you know that she's not doing well and that there could be problems with the baby? How is that what's best for Esme? Don't you think it will just stress her out even more? Worrying about you? That's definitely not what she needs. Or what this baby needs.”

“Since when did you become a goddamn expert on what your sister needs? You think just coming around here once or twice a month means you know anything about her? I've been with her for five and a half years. I think I've got a little more experience in what's best for her.”

“Which is why you took off when she was having the twins right? When she was having all those problems and you still took off.”

“I know you think it was some kind of easy decision. And that I'm a selfish asshole for making it, but I had to make a hard call when it came to taking care of my family. Your mother isn't handing us all kinds of cash like she does with all the others. She doesn't even remember when the kids' birthdays are. I actually have to work. And I had a wife and a little girl to take care of, two kids on the way, and I had to pay a mortgage, put food on the table, pay the bills. You think I wanted to leave? I had to leave. I did it because I didn't have a fucking choice. And you can go back and tell your mother that. Because I bet that's not the version she tells everyone. Her version is me just up and abandoning my pregnant wife and my little girl. And that's not how it happened. Far from it.”

“But why this job? Why this kind of thing? Why not something else? Anything else?”

“Because I'm fucking good at it, that's why.”

“Maybe it's the kind of life for a single guy. Maybe when you didn't have a wife and kids it seemed like the ideal thing to do. But why now? When you have so much to lose? Why would want to even take that chance? That you might not come back and you'll leave her with four kids? Soon it'll be fine. Why would you want that for her? For them?”

“Look, I've been doing this job a long time. Before I even met your sister. I met her because of the job. She knew who I was. What I was. And she made the decision to stick around. She said yes when I asked her to marry me. Knowing what kind of life she was getting into. And let's not pretend she's completely innocent in all of this. Do you know what she used to do? And if you say she was into a business, I will honestly punch you in the fucking face.”

“She told me. That she was into intel.”

“Do you know the kind of people that she helped bring down? The kind of people she went up against? That she lied to and played and conned? She's who would lead guys like me to the bad guys. Not just bad guys. Horrible guys. Guys that hurt innocent people. Women and children, even. If it wasn't for her, guys like me wouldn't even have a body count or a payout. So let's not pretend that she wasn't in this life too.”

“But she gave it up. After what happened to you in Bangladesh.”

“She didn't have to. She did that willingly. Your sister doesn't do anything that's not her idea, trust me.”

“To stay there and take care of you,” Kyle points out.

“And she didn't have to do that either. But she did. And I'm glad she did. Because if she hadn't, we wouldn't have Millie. Or the boys. Or the baby we're having now. Where the fuck are you going with all this? How is this any of your business to begin with?”

“She's my sister.”

“I don't fucking care. She's my wife. I think that takes precedence, don't you. Look, I know you love her and I know you want to protect her. And you're a good brother and you're a great uncle. But don't stick your nose in my business. Our business. I don't let your mother do it and I'm not letting you do it. No matter how much I like you.”

“I'm just worried about her. And the baby.”

“And I'm not? I didn't just come back all the way from Ireland to make sure their okay? Fuck off, Kyle. I'm not in the mood for this shit. I'm tired, I'm sore, I've got a lot of shit on my plate. I appreciate that you're here for her and I don't care if you stick around, just stay out of our business.”

“So are you?”

“Am I what? Tired of your twenty fucking questions? Yeah, I am, actually.”

His cell phone vibrates next to him; another text from Ovi. And he picks it up to read and return it, hoping his brother in law will take the hint that this conversation is officially over. He'd told Ovi that he needed to stall for a couple days; not to return to Colorado until he knew for sure if he was going back to New Zealand or not. He didn't want the kids coming home, discovering that he was there, and then having their hearts broken when he left again.”

“Are you going to New Zealand?” Kyle presses.

“I don't know. I haven't made up my mind yet.”

“You really think you should?”

“What I think is that you need to mind your own business. This has nothing to do with you. It's a decision I'm going to make, with my wife. So drop it, yeah? Worry more about yourself and less about me.”

“I'm worried about my sister.”

Tyler sighs. “And so am I, mate. Which is why I came home and which is why I'm going to talk about this with her. Not you. Her.”

“Just tell me who you do this. I'm not talking about New Zealand. I'm talking about this in general. This kind of job.”

“Like I said, I'm good at it. What more do you need to know?”

“How'd you even get into this? Why not just stay in the military and...”

“We're not close enough for me to get into all the depressing and fucked up reasons why I started doing what I do. Or how I ended up as messed up as I am. I got into the job, I stayed in it, end of story.”

“And my sister just willingly stayed. Even knowing what you do. That you kill people.”

“I didn't hold a gun to her, did I? So yeah. She's willingly stayed. And when this is over...this job...I'm done. For good. And she knows that. She told me I had to choose and that's actually what I did. I chose her. And my kids. Now is there anything else you want to ask me or are you done pissing me off now?”

“Just tell me one thing...”

Tyler smirks. “That was actually a rhetorical question, mate.”

“If you love her as much as you claim you do, why get her involved in this in the first place? Why didn't you just cut her loose? When you woke up in the hospital and found out that she'd given up everything for you, why didn't you just tell her to go back home? To leave you alone? Why'd you let her stay?”

“What kind of fucking question is that? Because I was in love her, that's why. And I didn't want her to leave.”

“Do you realize how selfish that is? You know how screwed up this life would be for her. How hard it would be. How dangerous it would be. Why would you want that for her? I get that you guys found out she was having Millie. But that should have been an even bigger reason to let her go. Bring her and a baby into all of this?”

“You know what, you're overstepping big time here. Your sister had the choice. She could have left. She didn't go.”

“How hard did you try to convince her? Because something tells me if wasn't hard enough or she would have been on the next flight home. Why would you do that to her? Let her stay. Knowing what her life would be like?”

“Your sister and I have had a good life. We've had our issues. I'm not denying that. But our life together has been pretty good. It's been fucking amazing at times. So you need to back off and leave us alone. Let us be married, let us raise our kids together, grow old together. What does it matter what happened five and a half years ago? She chose to stay. End of story.”

“And you chose to let her life like this. The constant stress, the worry, the fear. And for what? Because you love her? If you loved her, you never would have wanted to get her involved in all of this. You wouldn't have let her. It's fucking selfish and you know it.”

“We're done here.” Tyler says, and gathering up the empty mug and stack of papers, stands up, knee cracking noisily. “I don't owe you an explanation. I love your sister. More than I ever thought it was possible to love someone. And if that makes me a selfish fuck, then I guess that's what I have to live with.. But don't come to my house and start this shit. You've got the wrong guy to pull this crap with. Why don't you go back to worrying about what Nik is up to. Go and jerk off some more while thinking about her. Whatever will keep you out of my business.”

“You know,” Kyle calls after him. “You can be a real dick.”

Tyler doesn't respond; the screen door slamming shut behind him.

****

They sit on the front porch swing; sun long set, a gentle breeze rustling the tree tops. She lays on her back, covered in an old tattered plaid blanket, head in his lap, his hand a familiar yet still welcome weight as it rests on her stomach, his one foot moving the seat back and forth. It's nice to have this; something normal and familiar. Even when everything around them seems anything but.

“The nurse said if I'm still keeping everything down tomorrow, I can get this stupid thing taken out,” Esme comments, her nose crinkled in disgust as she holds up the hand with IV in it. “Fuck this thing.”

“You're supposed to keep it flat,” Tyler scolds, and lifts his hand from her stomach long enough to take hold of her wrist and bring her hand down onto her body. “So air doesn't get into it and the line doesn't get fucked up.”

“Well if the line gets fucked, they'll just have to take it out sooner. Or maybe you can. You pulled your own at least a half a dozen times when you were in the hospital. So technically, you'd be able to take mine out, right?”

“That's a no,” he says, and lays his hand on her forearm, opting not to put the pressure and weight on the IV site. “It's there for a reason,” he reminds her.

“I haven't puked all day,” she points out.

“And that's good and I'm proud of you, but it has to stay. Until at least tomorrow when we go and see the doctor. It's his decision. Not mine. And definitely not yours.”

“While we're there we can ask him to clarify the sex thing. I'm sure he would have told me if I couldn't.”

“He said to avoid things that get your blood pressure up. I'm pretty sure that means sex is a no.”

“I'm surprised you're so agreeable. Knowing how intense your sex drive is.”

“It's better to be safe than sorry, yeah? Now shut up about sex.”

She laughs. “Nice poker face. It's bothering you more than you're letting on. You're good. You seem so clam and neutral about things. Inside you're dying, aren't you?”

“Maybe just a little.”

She stares at him pointedly.

“Okay, maybe a lot. We're not used to having to take things easy. We didn't even take things that easy after the kids were born. So yeah, I'm feeling it. Can you blame me? My wife is the most beautiful, insanely sexy woman on the planet.”

“Baby, you're so biased.”

“Maybe,” he grins. “But it doesn't make it less true.”

She smiles, and he leans down to kiss her softly.

“For what it's worth,” she says. “I'm dying too. Because my hormones are just going crazy and I am so horny for you right now.”

“Just now?”

“All the time,” she giggles. “And it's like that when I'm not pregnant. And now it's ten times as bad. And you talk about having to take cold showers. I should go just go and sit in the freezer to save water.'

He chuckles at that, then kisses her once more. Longer this time, but no less soft and tender, his eyes on hers as lays his free hand on the top of her head, thumb repeatedly brushing against her forehead.

“Don't look at me like that,” she pouts dramatically.

“Like what?”

“Like that. With your stupid blue eyes and your stupid crazy handsome face and your stupid hair falling in your eyes,” she reaches up to push the longer strands off his forehead.

Tyler grins. “I'm not allowed to look at you now?”

“Not like that.”

“I'm not looking at you any different than I do all the time.”

“Oh yes you are. You just can't tell. But I can. There are really dirty things going through your mind right now.”

“Maybe.”

“You can hide these things from me. I know you so well. I don't know why you underestimate that all the time. I've spent five and a half years with you. I know all your different looks. All your expressions. All your body language. You so want me right now.”

“In all fairness, I want you all the time.”

“But right now, it's extra bad isn't it. Admit it. Don't be shy. You want to fuck me so bad right now.”

He nods. “There's some really, really dirty shit I want to do to you right now.”

“And who says romance is dead?” she quips, and he kisses her even longer this time; the brief glide of tongue against tongue, their heart rates increasing, breath quickening. “I'm pretty sure it's okay,” she insists. “They would have said something at the hospital today.”

“And I'm pretty sure we can wait until we talk to the doctor tomorrow.”

She frowns. “You suck, Tyler. You're the worst.”

“It's just better to wait, okay? To know for sure. Humour me. Please.”

“I like this side of you. The dotting husband side. It's a very attractive look on you. Maybe I'll let you baby me and take care of me from now on.”

“I thought you hated when I did that shit. You've always complained about it before.”

“I promise I will never complain about it again. Because it makes me feel like a Queen and it's sexy as fuck on you. Not that you need to be any more sexier than you already are. What a terrible burden you have to bear. Looking like you do. I don't know how you do it every day. How can you stand looking at yourself in the mirror? I look like a troll and you look like that. Life is so unfair.”

“You do not look like a troll. Not anywhere close to it. You know I think you're beautiful. I always have. I always will.”

She smiles. “There you go being a softie again. You're just on a roll today. You're in fine form. What's gotten into you?”

“Nothing. What? I'm not allowed to be this way with my wife? You're the only one I can be this way with. Everyone else expects something different.”

“Doesn't mean you have to give it to them, You don't always have to be the assertive, confident, tough guy you know. You can be human.”

“I'll save being human for you. You won't get on my ass about it.”

“If people don't like you the way you are...the real way you are...well fuck them. I happen to love all sides of you.”

“And you're the only one that matters, so...” he pecks her lips. “....let it go.”

“You're so difficult,” she sighs, and reaching for his hand, she laces their fingers together and brings them down to rest on her stomach once more. “I need you to do something for me.”

“Okay....”

“And I don't want you to freak out. Promise me you won't freak out.”

“Why would I freak out? Is there where you tell me that Manny the UPS guy might be the father?”

She smirks.

“What is it? What do you need me to do.”

“I need you to be gone before the kids get back.”

He looks down at her, eyes narrowed.

“Don't look at me like that,” she pleads. “I don't mean it in the way you think I do. I just don't want them coming home and seeing you here and being excited about it and then you leave them the next day. That's not fair to them. They miss you so much and it kills them when you're away. I think it's just better that they don't know you were here.”

“Baby, I already told Ovi not to bring them back yet. Until I told him if I was leaving or not. I'm one step ahead of you.”

“That's the last time I will ever underestimate you. You're getting quick in your old age.”

“And who says I'm leaving anyway?”

“You just said you talked to Ovi and told him not to bring the kids back.”

“No, I told him to hold him to hold off for a couple of days until I told him one way or the other. Not that I was for sure leaving.”

“You're leaving.”

“Says who?”

“Me.”

Tyler chuckles. “And it's up to you because...”

“Because I know what will happen if you don't go. You will have it on your mind for the rest of your life. You'll constantly wonder what happened to those kids. If they were ever found. If they're still alive. I know you, Tyler. I know that will stay with you.”

“I'm sure I'll find out one way or another what happened to them.”

“That won't make things any better. Say they never get out of there and they die. You will blame yourself. You will always believe that they died because you weren't there to get them out. You will have that on your conscience for the rest of your life, and I do not want that for you. You're supposed to be retiring. It won't be much of a retirement if you can't rest. And you won't rest if you don't do this.”

“It doesn't need to be me, Esme. That goes in.”

“Yes. It does. And you know it does. And I know you've been thinking about those kids since you go home. I know they've been on your mind. I'm not faulting you for that. I know how your brain works. You gave your word that you'd get them out and it doesn't matter how big of a bastard McMann turned out to be. You promised you'd get those kids and it's been on your mind ever since you made that promise. You need to be there and you know it.”

“I need to be here,” he insists. “ With you.”

“No, you don't. Things are fine. I'm okay. The baby's okay. And the doctor is going to tell you the same thing tomorrow. Nik is here, my brother is here. You don't need to be here.”

“Bullshit. I'm your husband. That's my kid in there.”

“And we're both fine,” she insists. “And it's amazing you came and I love you so much for it. Because before you probably never would have done it. You would have been fine with people being here with me. Like when I was pregnant with the twins. So I think it's incredible that you came all this way. But you need to go. Not just for those kids. But for yourself.”

Sighing heavily, he closes his eyes and leans his head back against the brick behind him.

“You know I'm right,” she says. “And I know you think it makes you a shitty husband for wanting to go. But it doesn't. You think it means that you're abandoning me. But you're really abandoning those kids. Because you're their only hope. You want go, right? You can admit it. I'm not going to be mad. I'm not going to think less of you. You want to go New Zealand, don't you.”

He nods.

“Then go. I'm not going to stop you. I'm telling you to do it. I'm telling you I want you to do it. Because I don't want you staying and then spending the rest of your life blaming yourself for what happens to them. You have enough going on up in your head; enough to deal with. You don't need that too. I don't want that for you. That kind of torment. You've been through enough without putting yourself through that.”

“And if I don't make it back?” he asks. “Then what? Then you'll be on your own with four kids. Soon five. And then what? If we're going to talk about this, we might as talk about all of it. Say I go back and something happens, what then?”

“Well, I deal with it, I guess. I don't know what you want me to say. I don't even like thinking about that; something happening to you.”

“You said it yourself, these people are dangerous. More dangerous than I've ever gone up against it. So there's a chance I'm never coming back from this. You realize that, right?”

She nods, tears welling in her eyes. “I've known for five and a half years that it could happen. Every time you walk out the door. And it almost happened in Dhaka.”

“This going to be worse than Dhaka. Way worse.”

“And you'll be fine. You'll go in there and you'll get those kids and you'll get the hell out and you'll come home.”

“Esme, you need to prepare yourself. For the worst case scenario. And it fucking kills me inside to even talk about it. But I need you to think about it. I need you be ready for it.”

“How can I be ready for something like that? There's no way to be ready for something like that.”

“You know where everything is, right? All the paperwork? Everything you would need to take to a lawyer. You know where that all is, right?”

Nodding, she wipes at the tears that trickle down her cheeks.

“If something happens and I don't come back, you take the money and you take the kids and you go. You don't stay here. Because chances are, those people won't stop. So you take the money and get the fuck out of here and you don't look back. Promise me. That you'll do that.”

“I promise.”

“And you do whatever you have to do to change your name. To change their names. You have to do that. There can't be anything left of me. No trace. It has to be like I never existed. You understand that, right?”

She nods.

“Nik will help you. She can help with all that. She's had to do it for other people.”

“I don't want to talk about this,” she sobs. “Please stop. I don't want to hear this.”

“You'll be fine. You and the kids will be fine. You're strong. The strongest person I've ever met. And you'll go on with your life and you'll be fine. I promise.”

“Stop, Tyler,” she begs. “Please just stop. I don't want to hear this.”

“You have to. You have to hear it and you have to listen to me.”

She shakes her head. “You're going to be fine. You're going to get those kids and you're going to come home. There's no other choice. You have to come home.”

“I'm going to try my best. You know that.”

“That's not what I need to hear. I need to hear you say you're going to come back.”

“I can't, baby. I can't promise you that. Because that's not a promise I'm sure I can keep. But you'll be fine. You and the kids will be okay. That I can promise you.”

He leans down to kiss her. Tasting the salt of her tears on her lips.

“So you're going then?” she asks. “You're going to New Zealand?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “I'm going.”

#tyler rake #tyler rake fan fiction #tyler rake fan fic #extraction #sanctuary #chris hemsworth character

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chickensarentcheap · 4 years

Text

Sanctuary - Chapter 37

Warnings: angry Tyler. Is that a warning? lol

Tagging: @alievans007, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @thorsbathroomchicken, @innerpaperexpertcloud @valkyrie-of-the-light

It’s been two days since the incident at McMann’s house, and the worst of the physical aftereffects have begun to dissipate. The pain that lingers in the shoulder has lessened; nothing more than a dull, throbbing ache that settles right in the joint and often travels straight down to his fingers. The black eye is at its peak, a vivid shade of purple and some blue that spreads to the top of the cheek and over to the side of his nose. The scalp is still tender to the touch, but the headache is gone, and he’s no longer plagued by periods of dizziness and nausea; the concussion…or at least the worst of it…now behind him.

They’ve been in hiding for forty eight hours. No contact with the outside world aside from phone calls home and the video chats with Nik on the FBI’s secure satellite link. Even Yaz has stayed his distance; working closely with Mark on finding any information regarding Heather McMann’s -and the children’s- whereabouts. It’s been nothing but dead ends. McMann hasn’t attempted any communication; there’s been radio silence from his end of things. Yet Tyler knows he’s out there. That either he…or someone he’s recruited or hired…is just lying in wait for the chance to get revenge. In McMann’s eyes he’s crossed a line; going to the house without permission, discovering the things he had, leaving four men dead in the backyard. He’s out for blood now. The need for finding his children now outweighed by the need for vengeance. He’s in on it. Working side by side with his wife; a sick and twisted game that only leads to more questions and dead in. Tyler just can’t prove it. He knows there’s a connection, but he can’t seem to find what he needs to join all the loose ends. While Heather’s abduction was very much stage, the nightmare the kids are being put through is very real. What is the purpose? On faking one but following through with the others? With weaving a web so tight and so intricate? And what kind of sick person uses their children like that in the first place?

Proof. He needs proof.

And answers. So many answers.

He leaves Esme sleeping and journeys out onto the balcony; a cup of coffee from room service in one hand, SAT phone in the other, and he takes a seat on one of the plastic chairs and places his feet up on the metal railing. He’s tired; mentally and physically. It’s six in the morning; eleven at night -previous day- in Colorado, and he briefly considers calling the house phone before dialing Ovi’s cell instead. He doesn’t want to wake the kids, or startle his mother in law, or even let Nik know that he’s reaching out. He’s tired of things being sugar coated; of being told that everything is fine when his instincts are telling him that they’re far from it. Maybe the kids aren’t feeling it; they’re little and still so pure and innocent and the only thing that matters to them is that mommy and daddy call at least once a day. And eventually come home. But he knows there is more going on than what Nik is telling him. Things have been so fucked up from the get go and there’s no way some of that hasn’t reached Colorado by now.

“Did I wake you up?” he asks, after Ovi’s given the standard ‘what’s up?’ and a loud yawn.

“I was starting to doze. The kids made me sleep in the backyard in the tent. Again. This is the fifth night in a row. My back hurts.”

“You guys aren’t out there by yourselves, are you? There’s guys keeping in eye on things, yeah?”

“There’s a few,” Ovi confirms. “They switch out every couple of hours.”

“Have the kids said anything? About why these guys are there?”

“They’ve asked a couple times. Why there’s people walking around and checking things out. I just told them that it makes you and Esme feel better that they’re here. That you guys hate being that far from home and you worry about them and having people here makes you worry less. That makes them happy. They like that answer.”

“And they’re doing okay?”

He misses them…misses his life…terribly. So much it’s physically painful at times. And for a brief second he wishes he could back in time; to when they still been in that little apartment in Australia, before Ovi had started receiving all those threats and photos. So he could make a different decision. Say no when it became apparent that his help was needed and there was no one else would could do the job. Things would be so different. They never would have gotten caught up in that kind of bullshit; they’d never would have ended up in Mumbai and then back in Dhaka. Where the nightmare had started in the first place.

The other side of him holds onto the old adage that ‘things happen for a reason’. If he’d never gone to help Ovi the second time around, the chances were slim to none that he would have become part of their family. He’d never would have gone to see Mahajan Senior and pushed the issue of guardianship and Ovi would have been stuck in Mumbai and the vicious circle of him always needing Tyler’s help would have continued. Gaspar had been right about that; there was no way to keep him safe with his old man in jail. And the kid still would have never known what it was like to be loved. To have people that legitimately care about him and his well being. They hadn’t just taken Ovi in to protect him, but to give him somewhat of a normal life. The chance to respected and seen as a person, not an object. To be loved.

“They get a little sad every now and then,” Ovi says. “They miss you guys. TJ is taking it the worse. He gets really upset. Really angry.”

“Yeah, unfortunately he’s got a mix of his mother’s sensitive side and my temper. So he tends to go off from time to time. No more fights? No one has beaten the shit of anyone lately?”

“No lately. But Millie is a lot tougher than she looks. She totally kicked his ass.”

“She’s small, but she’s mighty. Like her mother. She’s a force to be reckoned with that one. But other than that, they’re okay? They haven’t driven anyone to drink excessively yet? Grandma hasn’t found a bridge to jump off of? That that would be a horrible thing, but…”

“No,” Ovi laughs. “Everything is good. No one has gone crazy. Yet. Chloe is really good with them. She has a lot more patience than I do. And they really love her. They like having her around.”

“Yeah?” Tyler grins. “I bet you like having her around too.”

“Maybe,” Ovi sheepishly admits. “Just a little.”

“That’s how it all starts. You get used to having them around, you realize how much you like it when they are, you don’t ever want them to leave, and the next thing you know, you’re married and you’ve got four kids and one on the way and…”

“Wait? What? I think there’s something wrong with the connection. I thought I just heard you say one on the way? Is that what you said?”

“Yeah,” he grins. “We just found out. Two days ago. You’re the only back home who knows. So if you’d just keep it on the down low for now…”

“This is amazing!” Ovi gushes. “Another baby! You guys make such cute babies. You should have more. Like two or three more and…”

“This is the last one. We’re done. We’re closing up shop. Five will be more than enough. Besides, in a few years you’re probably going to be out on your own and you’re going to find someone to have your own babies with. You won’t need to rely on us to get your baby fix.”

“I’m not going anywhere for a long time,” Ovi declares.

It’s the immaturity creeping in; the trauma that been inflicted on him making him seem so much younger than his years. As if he’s the old Ovi again; that terrified and scarred yet trusting teenager that got him to open up about his own life and the mistakes of his past. It seems like a lifetime ago; when he’d had nothing to lose and death seemed like a welcome escape. Now death is what terrifies him the most. Back then he would have welcomed it, now he’s desperately trying to escape it.

“I just want to stay with you guys,” Ovi says. “Forever.”

“Well, we don’t mind if you do. We kind of like having you around. But one day you are going to want to move on with your life. We’re not always going to be the most important people in your world.”

“Yes,” Ovi says. “You are. I don’t want to leave. I want to stay. With you and Esme. And the kids. I’d miss you all too much. You guys are my family. You’re not my real parents, but you’re still my parents. You’re still my mom and dad. Even if we don’t have the same blood and our skin isn’t the same.”

Emotion chokes at him; stunned by the teenager’s heartfelt honesty. He’d never really considered himself to be the kid’s dad. A big brother, maybe. A father figure for sure. But he’d never used the ‘d word’ and Ovi had never dropped it until now. But he knows he loves that kid; like one his own. And he’d lay his life down on the line for him the same way he would for the kids he’d actually had a hand in making.

“I’m happy for you guys,” Ovi says. “That you’re having another baby. That I get another brother or sister.”

“Well if Esme has her way, it’ll be another girl,” Tyler smiles at the mere thought of it. Having another little girl. One that looks like her mother; dark hair and huge dark eyes and a smile that can bring even the strongest of men to their knees. “ I think she’s tired of there being so many guys in the house. And Millie definitely will not want another brother. She wanted to trade Declan in for a puppy when he was born.”

Ovi laughs at that.

“Look, mate,” Tyler begins, and take a swig of coffee. “I need you to be straight with me. When I ask you what I’m about to ask. Because I don’t think I’m getting the honest truth from Nik. And I need you to tell me the truth. Even if you think it’s going to piss me off. Can you do that?”

“I think so.”

“I don’t need you to think so. I need you to know so. Because this is fucking hard; being so far from my kids. And I don’t trust a lot of people and I’m over here trying to put all I have into guys I’ve never even met. I’m trusting complete strangers to take care of my kids and it’s fucking killing me. There isn’t a second of the day that goes by where I don’t want to say ‘fuck it’ and get on the next plane and come home. So I need you to tell me the truth.”

“Okay,” the kid sounds nervous, but steadfast. “I’ll tell you the truth.”

“How are things really? Because shit is hitting the fan over here and I’ve pissed some people off that won’t think twice about bringing trouble there. They won’t hesitate getting revenge on me by going after my family. Because they know that’s what would hurt the most. What would destroy me. They won’t come after me because they know it would take a lot to kill me. So they’ll resort to doing anything they can to break me.”

It still haunts him. What he’d seen when he’d found Erin Ferguson in that room. The things that had been done to her. The way her naked body had been mutilated and put on display. And he knows…with one hundred conviction…that if they’d been caught in McMann’s ‘bunker’, the things they would have done to Esme would have been even worse. And they would have done whatever it took to make sure he was fully conscious and able to watch what they were doing.

There mere thought makes him feel sick to his stomach. Tears burn his eyes. And he squeezes them shut as tight as he can in hopes of ridding himself of not only what he saw, but what he imagines he could have seen.

“How are things there?” he asks. “How are they really? Don’t bullshit me, mate. I need the truth.”

“The kids are doing really good. They’re behaving themselves and Chloe and I are making sure we keep them busy and happy.”

“I don’t mean that. I trust you. You’re one of the few people I do trust. I know the kids are in good hands. What I need to know is if there’s been anything weird going on. If there’s been any kind of trouble. Any suspicious shit going on.”

Ovi sighs. “Nik told me not to talk to you about this…”

“Fuck Nik. I stopped listening to Nik a long time ago. She thinks she knows what’s best for me and in reality she knows shit. What’s going, kid? Tell me what’s going on.”

“There’s been some things,” he reluctantly admits. “Nothing too bad, but…”

“What kind of things?”

He knew it was coming. That it was bound to happen. As soon as he’d nearly crushed McMann’s throat and he became enemy number one, the clock was ticking. He went from being the only one who could save the McMann kids to being the first on the other man’s shit list. For that alone he wanted to tell McMann to go fuck himself and just get on the next plane home. But he can’t. His conscience won’t let him. Those kids are still out there. Still being tortured in some kind of sick and twisted game being conducted by their own mother. If he doesn’t get them out, no one will. And that guilt and blame will follow him forever.

“People calling the house and hanging up. There were some pictures. Someone put them in the mailbox.”

His stomach lurches. “What kind of pictures?”

“Pictures of the kids. Out on the street. Some of them at school. Pictures of Esme and Millie together downtown. Pictures of all of you together.”

In the grand scheme of things, pictures are relatively harmless. It’s the threat that usually accompanies them or follows them that’s the issue.

“What else? I can tell there’s something else, Ovi. What is it?” He doesn’t use the kid’s name that often, as strange as it sounds. The last time he’d used in while addressing him personally was when the kid had still been in the midst of all his mental health issues and causing all kinds of shit at home and they’d had an epic blow out about it.

“They showed up at the house.”

His chest tightens. As do his hands. The left one immediately forming a fist so tight his knuckles crack and start to turn to white. The fingers of the right pressing into the sides of the phone with enough force to crack the plastic protective covering. There’s no anxiety. No fear. Just rage. Pure, unadulterated rage.

“They? Who is ‘they’?” he asks, and he can hear it in his own voice; his temper threatening to take hold. In the same way it had when he’d nearly broken McMann’s neck with his bare hands.

“I don’t know. Three guys. They came here looking for you.”

“Did you see them? What did they look like?”

“I didn’t see them. I only heard them. As soon as Nik saw them pull into the driveway, she made me take the kids into the basement. Where you’ve always told me to take them in case there’s trouble. But I could hear them. Talking to her. They had accents. They weren’t American.”

“Were they Irish? Were they Irish accents?”

“No. I would have recognized that for sure. They almost sounded just like you. But different. Words sound a certain way when you say them. You have slang words for different things. Their slang words weren’t the same. But their accents sounded a lot like yours does, but they were still different at the same time.”

“New Zealand? Were they from New Zealand?”

“I don’t know what New Zealand people sound like,” he admits.

“They sound like me. But a little different like you said. Shit…fuck…” he drags a hand through his hair. His brain can’t quite possibly handle trying to put this all together on its own. The meds, the damage that had been when he’d lost so much blood and been oxygen deprived, the depression, the anxiety…all working together to completely fuck with him.

It doesn’t make any sense. He all but expected McMann to send someone. He’d been waiting for it, actually. But someone connected to the Buckman family? And why the fuck would they show up in Colorado in the first place? They have to know he is already Ireland, or else he wouldn’t have been made the second he got on the damn plane.

It’s a ploy. It has to be. Either a scare tactic to get him off the trail in Ireland and have him running back home to protect his own family, or to actually make sure he isn’t in Colorado, meaning that his family is alone and vulnerable.

“Do me a favour,” he says to Ovi. “Go on the internet and look up New Zealand accent. Go and google it. Do it right now. Don’t hang up. Go and look it up and listen to it and then tell me if it’s the same.”

“Okay…”

He sits with an elbow on his knee and his palm pressed to his forehead; the adrenaline has started to stir. And he can’t stop himself from vigorously shaking his thigh from side to side or repeatedly tapping his toes against the concrete below; top teeth digging into his bottom lip.

“It’s the same,” Ovi confirms when he finally returns. “That’s the accent I heard.”

“You’re one hundred percent sure? I need you to be one hundred percent sure, mate.”

“I’m sure. No doubt about it. I know that’s the accent I heard.”

“Okay, I want you to listen to me very carefully. I want you to do everything I say, alright?”

“Okay.”

“Go into the garage. You know where the loft area is? Go up there. There’s a trunk with a lock on it. I’ll text message you the combination. There’s money in there. A lot of money. And there’s weapons. Lots of them. I need you to take both, understand me?”

“I understand.”

“I want you to take the kids and Chloe and get them the fuck out of there. Even the dog. Take him too. He’s what will keep the kids from losing their shit. I want you to get away from the house. I don’t care if it’s just to Denver or if you have to go to an entirely different state. Don’t tell anyone where you’re going and do not call anyone except me when you get there. Tell Esme’s mom to go back home. Tell her I said not to talk to anyone. That if someone comes to her place looking for information, she doesn’t give them any. Are you getting all of this?”

“I am,” he confirms.

“I want you get a different cell phone. To call me from. Even get Chloe a new one. Use some of the money I told you about. You don’t use any phone but that one to get in contact with me, you hear me?”

“I do.”

“Do not go back to the house unless I tell you too. You find a place for all of you to stay and you keep your ass there. The only time I want you leaving is if you think people have found you.”

“What about Nik? What do I tell her?”

“I’ll worry about Nik. I’ll deal with her. She won’t want me to, but I will. I’ve to go. I’ve got shit I need to piece together somehow. As soon as I hang up, you start getting everything going. Do not contact me until you’ve got a new phone. Get rid of the other one. Burn it, stomp on it, I don’t give a shit. Just get rid of it.”

“Okay…” he sounds nervous. Like that fourteen year old kid back in Dhaka. “Tyler?”

“Yeah?”

“Things are going to be okay, right?”

“I hope so, mate,” he says. “I really hope so.”

****

He leaves a hastily written note on her pillow; right next to her head, so she won’t miss it. She’ll panic if she wakes up and not only finds his side of the bed empty, but him missing from the room entirely. So he let’s her know that he’s gone to see Yaz, and that if he’s not back in an hour after she discovers the note, THAT’s when she needs to start freaking out. And he tells her not to open the door. To anyone. Not room service, not housekeeping , not even Mark if he shows up.

He takes the stairs as opposed to the elevator. Less chance of running into someone; the confined space of the elevator only putting him at a serious disadvantage if someone did climb aboard with the sole intent of causing trouble. He takes the stairs two at a time; the rage has fully taken over, making him numb to any physical pain that he knows he should be feeling. He’s pissed off; at McMann for holding back information, at Heather McMann for using her kids and allowing people to abuse and torture them, at Nik for keeping the truth from him, at whoever has the goddamn nerve to show up at his house. At himself for even getting mixed up in such a godawful shitty mess.

He reaches Yaz’ room and pounds his fist against the door. To hell with your average, normal knocking. He is way beyond being being polite; all decorum and niceties completely out the window. And when he gets no answers, he uses the toe of one of his boots to get the job done; repeatedly slamming it against the wood until it violently shakes and makes an audible crack.

“What the fuck, man?” Yaz speaks from a slit in the door; not opening it farther than the chain will allow.

“Open the door.”

“No. This isn’t a good time. Can’t you read? The sign says ‘do not disturb’.”

“Open the fucking door, now!” Tyler bellows, and Yaz gives a started blink and then hurriedly tends to the chain.

“What the hell is wrong? What…?”

He pushes his way into the room. “Did you know? About the people that came to my house? Did you know about that?” And it’s then that he sees the half naked woman in Yaz’ bed, frazzled and embarrassed, trying her best to throw on some clothes. The waitress from the coffee shop they’d visited their second day in town.

“Do you mind?” she shrieks.

“Yeah, I fucking do! Get your shit…” Tyler snags the remaining apparel off the floor and tosses it at her. “…and get the fuck out!”

“Don’t argue,” Yaz address her. “Not when he’s like this. Not when he’s capable of tearing us both to pieces.”

He paces the room as Yaz helps his guest get herself sorted and out the door; raking his hands through his hair, wincing when his fingers come in too close of contact with the stitches in his scalp. The rage is intense; almost unbearable. Sweat beading on his brow, forming at his temples, his breathing irregular. He knows he needs to get it together; Yaz isn’t the enemy. And at this point he’s liable to beat the ever loving shit out of him if he even glances at him the wrong way.

“What the fuck man?” Yaz snarls. “Do you see me interrupting you when you’re about get laid?”

“I don’t give a shit where you were about to stick your dick, mate. I don’t give a fuck if it was the waitress from the coffee shop or you hired a hooker. Did you know? About what’s been going on at my house? About the pictures? About the phone calls? About people showing up there?”

“Tyler…just calm down, man…just…”

“Did you fucking know?!” he snarls, and Yaz holds his hands up in a plea for mercy when he takes a step towards him.

“Okay…okay…you need to just take a breath and calm down…”

“That’s my family! That’s my fucking kids! There’s people sending shit to my house! They’re showing up there. Where my fucking kids live! Don’t you tell me to take a breath and calm down. Did you know about it? Did your sister tell you?”

“Yes…” he reluctantly admits. “…she did. But…”

“But? How can there be a but?! You knew that people were threatening my family and you didn’t tell me?!”

“Nik asked me not to. She knows what you get like. We both know what you get like. I mean, you’re here, flipping your shit on me. I’m not the enemy here, Tyler. I’m not the one that is threatening your family. But you’re acting like I’m personally involved in it somehow.”

“You knew and you didn’t tell me. That makes you just as bad. So don’t give me that shit. Don’t play the victim.”

“I knew if I told you, this would happen. That you’d completely lose it.”

“Do you blame me? Do you really fucking blame me? Those are my kids, Yaz. My family. The only reason I’m still alive and I didn’t put a bullet in my head years ago. They’re the only reason I keep doing this shit; trying to solve everyone else’s goddamn problems while my own life feels like it’s falling apart! It never should have come to this. I should never have gotten mixed back up in this shit. When your sister asked four years ago, I should have told her to go fuck herself and to find someone else.”

“But you didn’t. And you know why?”

“I’m fucking brain damaged, that’s why. Maybe the doctors shouldn’t have worked so hard when I coded in the OR. Maybe it would have been better if they’d just let me die. Because I wouldn’t be here right now putting up with all this bullshit! I wouldn’t be thousands of miles away from kids while some asshole is sending people to prey on them.”

“If you’d died, those kids wouldn’t even exist,” Yaz reminds him. “Your life, the one you know, wouldn’t exist.”

“Yeah, and maybe that’s the way it should have been. None of this existing. Because my kids shouldn’t have to put up with this. My wife shouldn’t have to put up with this; me taking off to fight other peoples fucking battles and not even taking the time to fix ours.”

“I thought things were good. I thought…”

“I’m not talking about now. I’m talking about when she kicked my ass out because she was tired of me breaking her goddamn heart all the time. And yet she still took me back. Even though I didn’t deserve another chance. I promised her it would be different. That I’d be different. And now look. Now look at the fucking mess I’m in. That I’ve brought her into. She deserves better than this, Yaz. She’s always deserved better than this. Better than me.”

“You’re each other’s ride or die,” he says. “Always have been. Since the beginning.”

“Well I’d rather my wife not die, if it’s all the same to you. Why didn’t you tell me? Why’d you keep this from me?”

“Nik asked me to.”

“Excuse me for saying this, but fuck Nik. You should have told me. We’re friends. We’re friends and this is my family we’re talking about.”

“She knew if you found out that you’d leave. That you could back home.”

“Do you really blame me? I should go home. I should get on the next plane out of here and go home to my kids. Because they need me. Now more than ever.”

“The McMann kids need you too.”

“I’m sorry if this sounds harsh or makes me look like an asshole, but my kids are more important to me than those two.”

“And they should be. But you need to do this. And you know you need to do this. That you need to stay and find them. Would you be able to live with yourself, Tyler? Knowing you left them hear to die.”

He shakes his head, giving a derisive snort. “Don’t do that. Don’t put that on me. Don’t ask me to choose between my family and complete strangers. Because my family will come first. Every time.”

“Tyler, your family is safe. There’s people that can protect them. But the McMann kids? They have no one. There’s no one else looking for them. There’s just you. No one else cares. Not even their own parents. If you leave, they die. It’s as simple as that. They only have you. Whether they realize that or not. And I know you, man. I know how your brain works. You’d go home and you’d try and go on with your life but you wouldn’t stop thinking about them. You wouldn’t be able to live with yourself knowing that you just up and abandoned them and sealed their fate.”

He heaves a heavy sigh, then sinks into one of the chairs at the table near the patio window. Elbows on his knees, rocking slightly back and forth; eyes riveted on the floor, the fingers of his right hand absentmindedly fidgeting with his wedding band. Attempting to calm himself; to rid himself of the intense anger that has every nerve ending on fire and his chest feeling impossibly tight.

“Look…” Yaz approached cautiously, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “…I didn’t keep it from you to hurt you, okay? I kept in front you because I needed you to keep your head in the game. I knew once you found out, everything would just go to shit. That you’d be hell bent on getting home. Your kids are safe, Tyler. They’re in good hands. But the McMann kids? They have no one. Just you.”

“I can’t solve the world’s problems, Yaz. I’m sick of this fucking life. I’m sick of putting my wife through this. I’m sick of putting her and my kids in danger. They deserve better than that. You know they do.”

“I do. But I also know the McMann kids deserve better than what’s happening to them. Tyler, you’re all they have.”

“I don’t even know where they are. I’m no closer to finding them now than I was a week ago.”

“We’re getting closer. We know Heather McMann is involved. If we can find people who know her…if we can break her husband…”

“He’s out to kill me, Yaz. Or kill my family. He doesn’t want my help. All he cares about now is revenge.”

“You can break him, Tyler. You know you can. If you set something up…arrange to meet him…let him know everything you know…you can break him. You will break him.”

“What if he kills me first? Then I’m no good to his kids or mine.”

“Mark and I will keep an eye on things. And he has people. Here in Ireland. They’ve been watching you for the past week. Keeping an eye on you and Esme. Marines.”

“A lot of fucking good they did two days ago when I was getting my ass handed to me by four guys and a fucking shovel.”

“That was…unfortunate…”

Tyler snorts. “You think?”

“But we get them involved. We put eyes on you. And a wire. You go and you meet with McMann and you do whatever you have to get information out of him. And if you have to kill him after you get it out of him, I heard nothing and I saw nothing. You read me?”

He nods. “Loud and clear.”

“And we have Esme going tonight to talk that IRA guy. The bartender, so…”

“No. She’s not going. She changed her mind.”

“What? She can’t change her mind. This was her idea! It was her idea to do this in the first place and now she’s bailing? What the fuck?”

“She has her reasons. I’m not letting her go, Yaz. No way.”

“Just because you’ve got some jealous hang out about her being around other dudes…”

“That is not it. Trust me. That is not it.”

“…we need her to do this. This was all her idea. This was her baby. And because she doesn’t want to upset your fragile ego…”

“Yaz…drop it. She’s not going. I told her she wasn’t and she agreed with me. I’m not taking the chance that something could happen to her.”

“Nothing will happen to her. She’ll be wearing a wire. We won’t be far away. We will get there before anything could happen. What the fuck man? I get you two have your issues but…”

“This isn’t about our issues. This is about me wanting to keep her safe. I can’t have anything happen to her. Especially not now.”

“Especially not now? What the hell is that supposed to mean? What…?”

“She’s having a baby,” Tyler confesses, and he watches as the other man’s eyes widen in surprise.

“She’s pregnant? Esme’s pregnant?

“We just found out. Yesterday. We don’t even know how far along she is. She took a test…two tests…and they were both positive.”

“Are you sure?”

“Did you not just hear me? I said she took two tests. Both positive.”

“Was this intentional? Like were you guys planning on having another one or…”

“We’ve been trying,” Tyler confirms. “Actively.”

“Jesus…” Yaz sighs, and runs a palm over his mouth. “…I take back what I said. I’m not pissed now that she changed her mind.”

“I can’t take the chance, mate. I just can’t. Not just with her. But with the baby. And believe me, I’d send her home right now if I knew she’d be safe there. But she’s not. It’s better for her…and the baby…if she stays here with me. Where I can protect her. Protect them.”

Yaz nods in agreement. “I get it, man. I do. This is big. This is huge. Congrats…” he offers a hand, and Tyler shakes it. “…another Rake, huh? May God have mercy on us all.”

Tyler smirks.

“There’s a still a way you know. To get information out of this Billy guy.”

“How? I’m not sending her in there Yaz. There’s no way. So…”

“What if you both go in there. Just surprise him.”

“He’ll know who I am. I’ve been made. So have you. That’s why we had Esme come here to begin with.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore. Whether this guy knows you or not. He’s not involved. This isn’t the IRA that has these kids. The IRA is pissed right? At McMann? At the Buckmans? They’re pissed and they’re out for blood. So what if you help them. What if you offer your help to get McMann and the Buckmans? What if you worked with them?”

“Yaz, you’re asking me to team up with a terrorist organization.”

“You’re not teaming up with them to do terrorist shit though. You’re teaming up with them to get back at McMann. To get the Buckmans. To find those kids. If you go in there and just lay all your cards out on the table, tell this Billy what you’re there for and what you want from them, he’s going to go along with it. The IRA is after McMann and if they even have the slightest inkling about where Heather McMann is…”

“It could lead me to the kids,” Tyler finishes for him.

“Exactly! What do you think? Is it worth a shot?”

Tyler nods. “I think it could work.”

It has to work.

#tyler rake #tyler rake fan fiction #tyler rake fan fic #extraction #sanctuary #chris hemsworth character

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