Summary: After you die in the final battle, Steve believes he can still see you everywhere.
Warnings! Major character death (reader), angst, PTSD, swearing, hallucinations, Steve believes he's going crazy, medication, depression
Word Count: 1.8k
a/n: First fic on tumblr hurray! I didnât think my first fic would be angsty, but here we are! I canât stop thinking about the west end proshot of Next to Normal, so this fic is inspired by it. Specifically, âIâm Alive (Reprise)â.
Steve Harrington usually had everything together, or at least he could pretend to. That fact changed 18 months ago, since they defeated Vecna. Since he lost the love of his life. Since he lost you. Every night when he goes to sleep, he dreams of you, the light you brought into his life, and the moment someone blew it out.Â
Steve still blames himself; he was supposed to protect you, but you shoved him out of the way. Everyone was attacking the Mindflayer, giving it their all to end the terror of the abyss, the upside down, and Vecna. You, Steve, and Dustin were attacking underneath the Mindflayer, stabbing it as much as you could with your makeshift spears. When Vecna was killed, the Mindflayer collapsed, causing the three of you to run as fast as you could to get out from underneath. But you werenât fast enough. One of the Mindflayerâs arms was flying towards Steve, and you shoved him out of the way, but you got impaled by it.Â
It was like the world silenced around him. He cried over your body until he was physically dragged away from you. He will never forgive himself for letting them leave your body there, never to be found again. It was supposed to be him, but you and your damn heart of gold had to save him because that was just you.Â
Ever since then, everyoneâs moved on, but not Steve. He couldnât eat or sleep, just wanting to see you again, and eventually he did. Deep inside, he knew it wasnât real, but he believed it was because he couldnât imagine a world without you in it. He was able to hide that you were there for a long time until he slipped in front of Robin.
They were having just a casual hangout that felt weird when their trio was now a duo. Robin was going through her own grief, but knew Steve needed someone to lean on while he was learning how to live in a world without you. Robin thought he was learning how to process his grief, and he was, but not in the way Robin thought he was.
âYou seem to be doing better. I know itâs been tough, but youâre getting through it, and that's what matters,â Robin spoke up while they were hanging out at the WSQK.
âYeah, that final battle, Vecnaâs final moments left scars on us all. Y/N has said that we need to remember that weâre all going through what happened in our own ways, and we need to be there for everyone. Iâm trying to listen to her, but it's hard because the kids act fine and wonât talk to us.â
âSteveâ Robin treaded carefully. âWhat do you mean, Y/N has said. Did she tell you that before what happened?â
âWhat? No. She told me that two days ago, after Dustin came by. You know she really misses you, Rob. You should come by and visit.â Steve replied.
Robin put her hand on Steves not fully knowing how to handle the conversation.
âSteve, you know that's not possible. Y/N⌠Y/N died during the final battle, remember?âÂ
âWhat do you mean? Robin, I think I would know if the love of my life died. I saw her yesterday and the day before that. Sheâs alive,â Steve defended.
It was worse than Robin thought. How does one help someone who is dealing with their grief like Steve is?
âNo, she was killed by the Mindflayer. Steve, whatever youâre seeing, it isnât real. Y/N isnât here. Sheâs gone.â
âNo, No sheâs not, she can't be.â Steve became quiet, thinking, and eventually he remembered. He cried harder than he did when you first died. He was reliving his grief. Robin held onto him and stayed with him to make sure he was okay. This instance had happened several times afterwards.
Eventually, Robin was able to convince Steve to go to therapy. The therapist put Steve on medication to make his visions go away. It seemed to be working; Steve hasnât mentioned you, and he seemed like he was actually processing his grief. He got a job and seemed to be just starting to find comfort in his life.
It was the partyâs graduation day. Steve went to support the little nuggets that were yours and his. You would be so proud of them, and that fact alone made Steve want to cry. He let Robin convince him to hang out with her, Jonatha,n and Nancy afterwards at the WSQK. Everything seemed to be going well. They were all talking, facing the transmitter tower, just talking.
Then it happened.
Steve heard you before he saw you.
âI am more than memory.â
Steve stared at the transmitter until his eyes hurt, and he saw you standing all the way at the top. Your hair was blowing in the wind, and the light was hitting you just right. You looked like an angel.
âI am what might be. I am mystery. Come closerâ
Steve put his arm on Robin's shoulder to steady himself.
âRobin,â Steve said breathlessly.
âCome closer.â
Steve listened and started to move to the ladder that would let him off the building to go to you.
âSteve, thereâs nothing there,â Nancy said carefully.
âI am old as time and forever young. I am every song that will stay unsung, I'll find you.â You spoke again causing Steve to move faster.
âDamnit!â Robin exclaimed and started to chase after Steve before he got himself killed.
âRemind you,â You were calling to him, and Steve was answering, wanting, needing to see you.
âY/N,â Steve said, running toward the tower shed to turn off the electricity.
âSteve, come back!â Robin was full-on chasing him now.
Steve got inside the shed and turned the dial. For a split second, he was confused. He was sure the dial color was grey, but now it was red. But that didnât matter now; you were what mattered. Steve began to climb the tower to get to you. Robin was still at the bottom and was looking up at the tower in disbelief.
âUntil you name me, you can't tame me; this is one old game that I can play so well.â
Robin shook her head, convincing herself it was just a trick of the light. She started climbing up the tower chasing after Steve. At this point, Nancy and Jonathon stood at the bottom of the tower, noticing that the lights started flickering. Steve was almost to you.
âI'm alive, I am so alive, and the medicine failed, and the doctors lied.â
The WSQK started to play music even though no one was there. Take a Chance on Me by ABBA started to play, and that was the song. The song that you decided was yours and Steveâs. The lights started to flicker even more. Something was very wrong.Â
âI'm alive, I'm alive. I am death defied, I'm alive.â
Much to their disbelief, Robin, Nancy, and Jonathon could all hear you now.Â
âItâs a code. Sheâs telling us something,â Nancy said. Nancy and Jonathon ran inside to radio the others to get over the WSQK as soon as they could. Steve finally made it up to you with Robin not far behind. Steve ran up to you, and when he tried to hug you, there was nothing but air. He started to cry, tugging at his prized hair, realizing it was just another hallucination, which meant his meds werenât working anymore. Robin finally caught up with him, engulfing him in a hug.Â
âSheâs not there, Robin. I canât keep doing this. Why isnât she there? Iâm going crazy, I donât know what to do,â Steve said between sobs.
âSteve, I need you to look at me. I see her too.â Robin said, and Steve looked at her, stunned.
âI'm alive, Iâm alive,â you said again, and Steve and Robin both acknowledged you now.
âWhat, Robin-â Steve began.
âNo, listen to me. I donât know what's going on, but the lights are flickering, your guy's song is playing over and over. Somehow, we all see and hear her. I donât know what's going on, but this is real, and you have to talk to her,â Robin said, while Steve nodded his head.
âY/N, are you there? Speak to me, please. Iâm right here, and so is Robin. We just need you to talk to us.â
At the sound of his voice, you look straight at Steve.
âSteve,â you said, like you couldnât believe he heard you.
Nancy and Jonathon then ran out of the tower with a walkie in hand, hearing your voice through the walkie.
âYeah, yeah. Itâs Steve, I'm here.â
âSteve, I need you to listen to me.â You tried to grab him but couldnât; you knew your time was short, and you had to tell him. âI have been trying to reach you for a long time. Iâm alive, none of this is real. You guys are all trapped in Vecnaâs mind. You are the twelve, not the kids, you. Vecnaâs alive, and you need to find a way out.â You said hurriedly.Â
âWhat, no, we defeated Vecna. You and El died to save us.â Steve said, still believing he is crazy.
âEl is here with me, we woke up after we âdiedâ and got out. Weâre hiding, weâre trying to get you guys out. I know itâs hard to believe, but Iâm real, and Iâm alive, I promise. Take a Chance on me, Steve Harrington,â you said, referencing something special between you two.
âIf you are telling the truth, how would we even know how to get out? This doesnât look like Vecnaâs mind from how Holly and Max described it,â Robin said.
âYou need to find something that looks wrong, something that has changed or shouldnât be here. I donât know how much time I have, find the party, Holly, Joyce, Hop, Nancy, and Jonathon. It's only you guys; everyone else isnât real. Donât let them find out you know whatâs going on. Weâll keep trying to play your songs to help you. I love you, Steve Harrington, come and find me,â You said, and you started to disappear.
âRobin, sheâs right. The color on the dial is wrong. I didnât think anything of it before, but now?â Steve said, realizing the situation.
âOkay, we need to get out of here. Thank goodness your girlfriend is a badass.â Robin replied, trying to make light of their situation.
They started to head down the tower, and Steve looked back at you as you were disappearing again. He still couldnât believe that you were real and he wasnât crazy. You seemed to notice his hope, but also his doubt. As a goodbye, you said two final words to remind him it's real.
âIâm alive.â
a/n: So, I decided to do conformity gate! There will be a part two to this one, so stay tuned! Also, I don't own any rights to Next to Normal or Stranger Things.
so. whoâs gonna do it. whoâs gonna be the first to write the fic with bob and yelena crawling around in the vents and alexei eating pop tarts and walker and ava fighting about what theyâre watching for movie night
idk how to articulate how fucking stupid it is to call it a "creative decision" after killing off the character whose whole storyline is about creating his second chance and building a family again and being worthy of love despite your past and just. for what. for him to die alone. all 8 seasons of that just for him to fucking die alone.
warnings: readerâs wrist is accidentally sprained from being grabbed too hard
You could hear scuttling from somewhere else in the garden, an estate more than sizable enough than the game afoot.
You were under the distinct impression though that the bats and birds are playing with you similar to how they would a child. Slower, weaker, and less experienced than the big kids. You weren't complaining though. Because, frankly, it was stressful. They tend to operate more like theyâre in a warzone than a game, you felt like you were about to be sniped out at any second.
Rightfully so, apparently, seeing how silently Stephanie had crept up on you.
âHey,â Stephanie hissed, ignoring the way you jumped. âWeâre doing alright for ourselves,â she said smugly.Â
âYeah,â youâd nodded, like you agreed with her more than you probably did.Â
âOkay listen, I think the flagââ what flag? ââis by the fountain so, I think because thereâs three of us and two of them, we should bait-and-switch.â
âWeâre on teams?â you asked, no longer completely sure you know what youâre playing.Â
âWe are now!â she smiled, starting to run. âIâll bait!â
She stopped briefly in her tracks and turned back to you hissing, âDonât trust Cass,â before scurrying away.
Rather than sit around and wait there forâŚsomething?...to happen, you jumped up darting in the opposite direction with little to no indication whether this is a good move.
What you didnât see is Cass rapidly approaching from your rear.Â
What you also didnât see was Dick crouched down in a row of shrubbery, which gave him the perfect opportunity to snatch your arm up and yank you down with him. Youâd mewled a bit as your wrist made contact harshly with the grass, immediately buckling under you.
Cass was keen to your pain immediately, slowing her sprint to a stroll as she observed you.
âAre you okay?â she signs.
âYeah, yeah, Iâm good.âÂ
The response was instinctual and you didnât actually have time to register whether or not you were okay by the time you gave it.Â
You pushed up on your elbows, trying to figure out whether Dick is even on your team, but the way the others approached had you halting consideration. Theyâre savvy to the situation at a speed in which you can only attribute to their vigilantism, looking at you with concern.Â
âYou good?â Tim asked, approaching languidly.
âThat looked like it hurt,â Cass commented, crouching down next to you to see your wrist better.
Dick shook his head, âNo, sheâs okay.â He turned to you, prodding, âYouâre okay.â
âYeah, Iâm, umâŚâ you winced, looking at your wrist. âIt hurts a little.â
Cass examined it closely, tilting it gently to the side. âIt might be sprained.â
Dick paled.Â
âNo.â
Tim pointed a thumb back towards the manor, âWe can get it wrapped upstairs.â
âNo.â
You were only then able to clock the barely contained grin on Stephanieâs face, begging to break. Â
âOoooh. Heâs gonna kill you.â
Cass had then kindly offered to take you inside and wrap it up for you, which you accepted, unexpecting of the plus-one of Dick trailing behind you like a guilty puppy all the while.
âYou know I didnât mean to grab you that hard right? IââÂ
Cass laughs quietly as she wraps the bandage around your wrist, amused by Dickâs now-third explanation/apology for the incident.Â
âI know, Dick,â you say, trying to appease him.Â
âIâm sorry,â he tells you genuinely, but you can tell thereâs more there that he isnât verbalizing.
You nod, âI know, Dick. Itâs okay. It was just an accident.â
Cass pins the wrapping in place securely and with a smile, signs to you that sheâs all done.Â
You rotate your arm a bit, testing your movement under the wrap. As Cass leaves with the first aid kit, Dick remains sat at your side, leg thumping up and down.
He takes a deep breath, âWhat ifâŚwhat if you avoid him until it heals?â
âDick.â
He takes your uninjured hand in his with urgency in his eyes,Â
He looks down at your jointed hands before loosening his already mild grip significantly.
âAre you going to tell him?â he asks, looking like heâs bracing for bad news.
You shake your head sympathetically, âNo. I canât guarantee you that he wonât find out, but I wonât tell him.â
Dick takes a deep breath, looking at the ground with intense focus. âOkay. Okay.â He stands, âI need to go.â
You watch in amused bewilderment as he staggers out the door, looking around frantically.Â
Within the next few minutes, he creates and enacts his plan A. He walks into the living room, sitting down next to a very disinterested Tim, eyes forward and serious.
âIâll give you two grand right now if you tell him it was you.â
Tim barks out, âAbsolutely not.â He looks at his brother, still laughing. âNo fucking way.â
Dick breaks the serious facade immediately, looking at him. âFive.â
A deadpan from Tim.Â
âYou donât have five thousand dollars.â
Dick throws his head back, back thudding against the couch. âDude, please! Heâll kill me!â
Tim scoffs, âHeâd kill me!â
Dick huffs, âNo, itâs different for me! Do you have any idea how many times he told me not to do that?âÂ
âWell then it sounds like you fucked up,â Tim sneers.
âOh my God.â
He takes off again, combing through different rooms in the house with hope of finding a quick but effective hiding place for, say, the next twenty years?
He bursts through the study, unwittingly interrupting Bruce and Alfred having a discussion over tea.
The latter sits up with a tense brow, âMaster Dick?â
The former turns around in his seat, âWhatâs the matter?â
Dick struggles for a second before confessing, âI accidentally sprained someone's wrist.âÂ
Bruce scans his face slowly, nodding. âAlrightâŚyouâll have to take responsibility for their patrol dutiesââ
Dick cuts him off with a sharp breath, âSaid person doesnât have any patrol duties to be affected...â
Bruce processes for a moment before shaking his head.
âI canât help you.â
Dickâs panic takes over again, prompting him to continue his scurry through the room, towards the other door.
Alfred interrupts his process with a very logical argument, âYou donât think running away will make this worse, Master Dick?â
âIâI donât know!â Dick whines, stopping in his tracks. âI donât know what to do!â
Bruce purses his lips, gesturing, âDick, when you make a mistakeâŚyou have to submit to the consequences, you know that.â
Dick gapes, âThis is not a normal consequence!â
Meanwhile, youâve busied yourself with fiddling with the knick knacks and mementos lining the shelves of Jasonâs childhood bedroom.Â
Youâre admiring a picture of him and Alfred from when he was young as the door creaks open behind you.Â
âSweetheart?â Your boyfriend calls out, head barely poked in through the crack.
âHey, Jay,â you smile, setting the picture frame back on the shelf.
He enters fully, covered in motor oil and grease, and smiles his sweet, easy smile when he sees you.Â
Moving onto the next trinket on the shelf, you pick up a stuffed animal placed intentionally at the front. Your gaze finds the mirror, watching his reflection as he pulls the stained shirt off his back.Â
You smile to yourself, noticing the way his back muscles flex as he adjusts. âHowâs the bike?â
âBetter than it was this morning,â he sighs. âWhereâve you been?â
He turns around to look at you, taking easy steps towards you.Â
You return the toy elephant to its place, moving to face him. âUh, we were outside, playingâŚat least three separate games at once.â
The second youâre in proximity, your hands join like itâs second nature.Â
He nods, all too familiar with the familyâs unique methods of gamefair.
âDid thââ He looks down at your intertwined hands, brow furrowing as soon as he spots the bandage wrapped around your wrist. âWhat happened?â
You glance down, shrugging. âOverexerted myself playing tag.â
He looks at you skeptically, but says nothing about it.
He turns your hand over gently, asking, âIs it sprained?â
You nod, relaxed. âYeah. Cass said itâs mild.â
âDoes it still hurt?â
âNo,â you say, sweeping his hair back with your other hand. âBarely hurt then.â
He nods, but he doesnât look satisfied with the conversation.
Regardless, he turns away again, shuffling through a drawer for a clean shirt.Â
âYou, uh, you wanna stay for dinner tonight?â he asks, pulling his arms through, his head following.Â
âYeah,â you say gaily. âAlfred said heâs making his âspecial spaghettiâ, apparently itâs a household favorite?â
He wavers, halfway to between decisions. âYeahâŚâ
He huffs quietly, turning back to face you fully. âCan I see it?â
You nod, happy to ease his mind.Â
You start to unwrap the bandaging, him doing half the work for you. The work is done silently until your wrist is exposed, revealing your bruised skin.
You both see it at the same timeâthe hand-shaped bruise wrapped around your wrist.
Youâre both quiet for a secondâhim putting pieces together and you waiting for the shoe to drop.
He takes off suddenly, clearly having come to a likely very accurate conclusion about what had happened.
âFucking idiotââ
You try for his hand but heâs out of reach before you can grab it.
âIâll be right back,â he grumbles behind him.
âJasonââ you sigh, âAt least help me wrap it back up first.â
He hesitates, halfway to the door, ultimately returning to you in defeat. He takes your forearm gently, scanning it over again before beginning to wrap it.
You watch his face closely, noting the clear vexation. âIt was just an accident,â you tell him.Â
He scoffs, âIt better have been.â
You drop your shoulders and lull your head to the side. âJason. Iâm not made of glass, you canât expect other people to act like it.â
âI donât. I expect him to mind his own strength, and if he canât do that, he needs to keep his fucking hands to himself.â
You sigh, âJust donât do anything harsh. Please. I think heâs worried youâre gonna punch him.â
âHe should be,â he says shortly. He finishes off the wrapping, pinning it in place firmly.Â
You grab onto his forearm before he can pull away, âYouâre not going to. Right?â
He doesnât answer so you try to make his gaze meet yours, âRight?â
His eyes roll, âYeah, fine.â
You smile, holding his face. âI love you.â
He huffs as though heâs inconvenienced, but confesses the obvious truth nonetheless. âI love you.â
He looks you in the eye, face serious. âYou promise me it doesnât hurt?â
âI promise,â you nod, brushing your fingers against his palm.
âDick!â
The angry voice bellows through the tall halls of the manor, heavy footsteps thudding.
He stomps into the living room, Tim, Cass, and Stephanie watching the entryway with wide eyes.Â
âWhere is he?â
Unwitting shoulders shrug and heads shake. Truthfully, at that. Dick, smartly, did not tell anyone where he was hiding.Â
Jason scans the trios faces, looking for any sign of apprehension.
He clocks the grin shamelessly plastered across his sister's face quickly. âStephanie?â
âI donât know,â she says honestly. âBut let me know when you find him, I wanna seeââ
But Jasonâs moving onto the next room before she can get the last words out.
He enters the dining room, looking right to left before finding his target, halfway to stuffing himself behind the fine china cabinet in the corner.
Thereâs a brief, tense moment in between where the pair realize what theyâre seeing and when Dick sets off in a sprint towards the kitchen, Jason quick on his tail.Â
âReally? Really?â Jason shouts.Â
âIt was an accident! It was a fuckingââÂ
He narrowly dodges a swipe from Jason, then ducking before a ladle could make contact with his head.
âAre you stupid? Are you the dumbest motherfââ
Dick rounds the kitchen island as fast as possible, Jason testing him on the other side.
Dick takes a breath, âDude, itâs fine now, itâs not that big of aââ
Jason recoils, ââItâs not a big dealâ? Come here. Let me sprain your wrist, asshole!â
He circles the counter quicker than the elder boy can think to move away and lunges at him.Â
Dick throws his hands up in front of him, âWait, wait, wait! Truce! Truce! Truce?â
Jason drops his shoulders, leveling his older brother with a look. âYou canât call a truce if youâre the only one who did anything wrong.â
âIâŚâ It doesnât take him long to piece together that his defense makes no sense, so he resorts to his last option.Â
âPlease?â Dick asks, nothing short of imploring.Â
Jason relentsâslightlyâupon hearing his brother's tone, but still finds it in him to shove him, though not nearly as hard as heâd been planning to.Â
âI told you a hundred fucking times not to grab her so hardââÂ
Dick nods heavily, waving a hand. âI know, I knowââ
âClearly you fucking donât!â Jason shouts. He huffs, running a hand over his face. âYou sprained her wrist. Youâve been doing this vigilante shit for fifteen years, how do you still not fucking know how to control your own strength?â
Dick grimaces, âI do! I do, I just screwed up, Iâm sorry!â
âDonâtââ Jason narrowly holds back a scowl, âDid you apologize to her?â
 âYeah, of course I did!â
For a split second, Jason looks ready to keep arguing before purposefully dropping the anger from his body.Â
The resulting relief almost drowns Dick.
It only lasts a moment though, before Jason looks at him again, sneering, âIdiot,â before pushing him once more.Â
âJason.â
Your voice has Jason dropping all turbulence in an instant. He and Dick both whip their heads towards the door, equally unexpecting of the interruption.Â
You tilt your head at your boyfriend with a knowing but disappointed stare.
He looks back at you like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, lips parted.
âI didnât hit him.â
âď¸ your options are: (1) reblog fics or (2) be a little bitch âď¸
I hope this message finds you well. My name is Aziz, and Iâm reaching out with a heartfelt plea to help my family find safety and reunite with our mother. đ
The ongoing war in Gaza has torn my family apart. My mother and newborn sister are stranded in Egypt, while I, along with the rest of my sex family members, am trapped in the midst of the genocide in Gaza. We have not only been separated but have also lost our home and are enduring unimaginable hardships. đ
Your support can make a difference. Whether by reading our story, donating, or sharing our campaign with others, you can help us reunite, find safety, and start anew. đđ
Thank you, from the depths of my heart, for your kindness, compassion, and solidarity during this difficult time. â¤đ
Please stay away from @scentedbananadefendor. He's a predator that has a history of catfishing and manipulating women in the Cillian Murphy/Peaky Blinders fandom. BLOCK HIM and do not give him attention! For added context, you can read through the PSA - Community Predator made back in March where the people victimized reveal his abuse.
tagging a few of my mutuals to help spread awareness: @emotionalcadaver @zablife @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @copinghex @thomashelbyswife @moral-terpitude @julyzaa @justrainandcoffee @call-sign-shark @peakyltd
deadpool 3 was such a refreshingly good comic book film because the writers like what theyâre writing about. the actors like the characters theyâre playing. the source material & decades of storytelling was actually taken into account. there was lots of explosions n shit but the most important part of the story were the characters. imagine that
I have so many ideas but I'm not a talented writer so here's one
-your logans wife pre striker you get taken by striker after logan gets shot as a way to kinda get back at him. Logan always had visions of a woman that he doesn't remember glimpses of domestic bliss. When striker attacks (in x2) striker name drops or says smth like "your wife has been waiting" as a way to antagonize logan.
Also, a cute detail to add if a fic takes place before he loses his memory would be the reader to call him james
I really love how your reader in has a plant mutation. Everything you write is just so good
I hope I wasn't to detailed feel free to take bits and pieces.
contingency
running through the base at Alkali Lake, Logan stumbles across a top secret room... only to find his whole entire world inside.
CW: suggestive, profanity, takes place during X2, has some elements from X-Men Origins: Wolverine, reader has been through some shit, Logan is so relieved, you don't really need to squint to see the angst, i'm iffy on how this turned out, etc.
'Think, dammit! What the hell was he talking about?'
With a roar of frustration, Logan unsheathed his claws, sprinting around the bend and slicing right through the stomach of a nearby soldier, waiting until the man fell with a disgusting plop before continuing on his way.
Why couldn't he just remember?
He knew that, for whatever reason, his memories had been tampered with, and that he couldn't recall anything about his life before the claws.
But ever since his run-in with Stryker back at the mansion, he couldn't help but feel like he was forgetting something especially important.
Something crucial.
"Wolverine..." Stryker grinned, eyes widening stepping forward out of the shadows. "I must admit, you are the last person I'd expect to find here."
Logan's claws revealed themselves with their signature shink, his brows furrowing as he warily stalked closer.
"How long has it been? Fifteen years?"
Stryker let out a small chuckle, but Logan was having a hard time finding what was so funny.
In fact, he was having a hard time with everything about this manâconfused as to why he seemed so familiar.
"(y/n) says hello," Stryker goaded, adjusting his glasses. "Or, at least... I believe she would... If I'm being honest, she's feeling a little under the weather at the moment."
A sadistic smirk settled on his lips, his eyes glinting with sick satisfaction.
"But then again... there's seldom a time where she isn't feeling under the weather these days..."
"DAMMIT!" Logan barked, slamming his fist into a wall.
Not knowing was tearing him apart.
Who was (y/n)?
What were you to him?
And how the hell did he end up on the complete opposite side of the compound?
All questions that he furiously wanted to be answered.
Though, somehowâthrough his fit of blind frustrationâhe managed to stumble across a door, which had printed in big, bold, yellow letters:
CAUTION: KEEP OUT. HYDROSTASIS IN PROCESS.
"Hydrostasis?" Logan cocked a brow.
He didn't know why, but whatever was housed inside seemed to be pulling him in, silently urging him to open the door and investigate.
'Fuck it.'
Using one claw, he stabbed the retina scanner, the thick lock clicking with a satisfying beep.
He pushed past the door with ease, entering a seemingly large, dark, and oddly cold room, a lamp on one of the workbenches the only thing illuminating the space.
Cautiously, he approached it, sniffing and snapping his head around to make sure he was alone.
Yet he knew he wasn't.
He'd caught whiff of a faint scent emanating from somewhere further into the room, but it was so familiar, it seemed almost instinct to pay it no mind.
For some reason, he knew it wasn't hostileâand if anything, it calmed him, soothing his spiked nerves.
Reaching the table, he found that right next to the lamp laid a file labeled EXPERIMENT 25-8: CLASSIFIED.
He snatched it up with lightening speed, quickly skimming over the latest entry.
EXPERIMENT 25-8
a.k.a Weapon X Contingency
Name: (y/n) (l/n)
Age: Unknown
Sex: Female
Height: X" X
Weight: X
Rank: Class 5
Report: 25-8 reviles authority. But her connection to Weapon X and general strength makes her a perfect candidate for Project Contingency. Her mutation and overall will to live have rejected all known forms of mind control. Will be kept in hydrostasis until new methods found.
Conclusion: Further research required. Could possibly be the only creature known to man that can stop the Wolverine besides the Wolverine himself.
"(y/n)..." Logan tested out the name, confused as to why it sounded so natural.
So home-like.
Looking away from the pages, he glanced down at the table, catching sight of a large switch not too far away.
Without hesitation, he flicked it, the lights in the room suddenly cutting on, along with the lights to your chamber.
And there you were right before himâunconscious and floating in vibrant blue water.
Looking upon you, it felt like he was suddenly hit by a freight train, years of love, care, and warmth flooding his mind.
"James!" you squealed, unable to dim your smile as he hoisted you over his shoulder. "Put me down!"
"Not a chance," he smirked, carrying you toward your shared bedroom. "You know what you did..."
"No..."
"C'mere. I need a taste tester," you smiled, cupping your hand under your fork as you held up a chunk of steak.
He grinned, placing down his newspaper and taking a bite, groaning at the good taste as he wrapped his arms around your waist.
"Well?" you asked, nervous.
"Baby..." he paused for dramatic effect, wanting to see you squirm. "This is the best damn steak I've ever eaten."
"You ass!" you scoffed, playfully slapping him in the shoulder as he laughed, rocking you back and forth.
"I can't..."
"I love you, y'know that?" he asked, holding you close as you both relaxed in the bathtub. "I feel like I don't tell ya enough."
"You tell me every day, baby," you smiled, looking up at him as you rested your back against his chest.
"Well, then," he smirked, his hand rising from the water, holding a beautiful diamond engagement ring. "You alright with me tellin' ya a little bit more?"
Your eyes went as wide as saucers, and you gasped so loud the neighbors (which were three miles away) would certainly hear.
"YES!" you squealed, scrambling to turn around and give him a kiss, the water sloshing around violently.
"Careful, hon! You're gonna knock me out the tub!" he chuckled, steadying you as your lips began peppering kisses all over his face.
"She can't..."
"James," you started, timidly, tracing mindless shapes in his chest as you both laid in bed. "That man you told me about... Stryker... he came by the house today."
Logan tensed at the name, his grip around you tightening.
"He didn't do anything, did he?" he asked, tone rising.
"No," you shook your head. "But he asked for you. Said it was important that you come and talk to him."
He sighed, taking your hand in his, smoothing his thumb over your knuckles.
"I'll go over tomorrow. Straighten everything out," he assured.
"I don't think you should," you quickly denied, nervous. "This man... I don't trust him... He gives me a bad feeling, y'know?"
He cracked a small smile, placing a tender kiss on your forehead.
"I promise you, he can't do nothin' to me that hasn't already been done."
"RAAAAH!" Logan roared, blindly slashing at the table and all nearby equipment.
How could he have ever forgotten you?
Fury consumed his being in every sense of the word, the anger swelling inside him in a way he had never felt before.
Sparks flew as Logan destroyed any and everything in his path, teetering on the edge between rage and regret.
He could remember so clearly now.
You were his worldâhis reason for drawing breath, his reason for existing.
No matter how bad things gotâangry, frustrating, or lonelyâyou were there.
You were his escape, his safety, his peace.
Comparing his life from before to the current, he couldn't fathom how he'd survived so long without being in your presence.
Through his slicing, he managed to cut something important, a loud warning siren blaring before all the water began draining from your pod, rapidly pouring onto the floor.
With a loud hiss, the door opened, sending you falling out the chamber.
Logan rushed over faster than he'd ever done anything, catching you in his arms and cradling you bridal style.
He looked upon you as if you were a ghost, a figment of his imagination.
After years and years of separation, he was finally allowed a chance to see your face, now able to recall all its fine details with perfect accuracy.
The softness of your cheeks.
The kindness of your eyes.
The plumpness of your lips.
Suddenly, you let out a loud cough, spitting up some water as your eyes snapped open, frantically looking around.
Logan couldn't find the words.
The love of his life was sitting in his arms and after fifteen years... and he had no idea what to say to her.
"James?" you asked, weakly, disbelieving of the sight before you.
That's right!
James!
His name was James!
"Yeah, baby..." he nodded, bitter-sweetly, getting a bit choked up. "It's meâ"
You threw your arms around his neck without a second thought, pulling him into a bone crushing hug as tears began pouring down your cheeks, your shoulders shaking with cries of relief.
"I thought you weren't coming!" you sobbed.
Your throat felt swollen as you stuttered, scrambling to say all the things you've been wanting to for so long.
"Oh, God, I love you, Jimmy! I love you so much! Please don't leave me again!"
"I'm so sorry, baby! I'm so, so sorry!" he sputtered, his hand finding home in your hair as he rocked you back and forth, stray tears escaping his eyes. "I shoulda been here! I shoulda protected you!"
He buried his face in your hair, peppering the side of your head with kisses.
"I love you so much, honey... I'm right here. I'm not goin' anywhere."
Suddenly, you went limp in his arms, panic and fear spiking up his spine.
"(n/n)?!" he pulled back, frantically scanning over you to see what was wrong."(y/n)?!"
Quickly, he pressed his ear against your chest, thanking whatever god in heaven that your heart was beating.
'It might be a side effect of the chamber... or maybe she's tired...'
Without warning, the entire compound began to shake, a familiar blue devil popping up next to him out of nowhere.
"Zere you are!" Kurt exclaimed, quickly grabbing onto his friend. "Vee must go! Zee place is goink to flood!"
In an instant, the three were back with the others, the mysterious woman in Logan's arms posing a question to everyone.
"Logan?" Ororo raised a brow, confused, as they began running toward the exit.
"Who the hell is that?" Scott asked, much blunter than Storm intended.
Logan looked down at your peacefully sleeping face, brushing a stray strand of hair out your face.