Words scrawled across my heart and onto my fics. The home for my fanfiction, including Criminal Minds, Narnia, Marvel, and Star Trek(AOS/Kelvin timeline), among other fandoms. Feel free to ask questions and leave stuff!
Magnar heard it first. The gasps of pain, fear. Turning, he saw Ulfric and Cyrilla, stopped together and clutching their chests.
“What is it?” Magnar asked, feeling the urgency as he rushed over, Vali not far behind. Cyrilla and Ulfric looked to one another, and he could see them speaking without words, the way only two with the same affinity could. Before he could reach them, they took off running.
“Not good.” Vali muttered, before he and Magnar followed close behind them. Whatever it was they felt, it was strong, and not good at all.
They were headed to the watchtower, which worried Magnar more. The magic in there wasn’t used often, only in times of great danger. Whatever they had felt, it warranted drastic measures to confirm what had happened. The couple had reached the top of the stairs and entered, by the time Magnar and Vali had reached the base, and the doors closed behind them.
The brothers waited, anxious, to hear what was discovered. It wasn’t long before they were joined by Tait and Alfrothal.
“Heard the commotion,” Alfrothal declared when he joined his brothers “any word?”
“None yet,” Vali replied “but it can’t be good.”
“Not with how scared they looked.” Magnar agreed, before they heard the doors open. The four men looked up to see Ulfric and Cyrilla walk out, looking pale and scared, as though they wanted to be sick.
Magnar took the stairs two at a time, the others right behind him, more concerned than ever.
“What is it?” he asked, seeing Cyrilla sit on the stairs, Ulfric lean against the wall with his head hanging down “what did you see?”
“The plague has reached the towns around Durnovaria,” Cyrilla declared, quiet as she stared into the distance “Matias, he’s…”
“Bricking up sick houses,” Ulfric continued, pain wrecking his tone “burning villages to the ground…people inside them…”
The silence was one filled with horror, all four of the brothers feeling their blood run cold. Killing his own people? Had Matias truly fallen so far into madness?
“We have healers that can help them,” Ulfric continued, hands curling into fists as his knuckles scraped against the brick “I trained under them, trained more of them…they’re some of the best in the world…he should be saving our people, but he’s killing them!”
(For reference, this is a collage of Cyrilla and her family, with the birth order being Magnar, Alfrothal, Cyrilla, Vali, and then Tait being the youngest. Ulfric is only a few years older than Cyrilla, younger than Magnar and about the same age and Alfrothal)
“You want me to what?” Ulfric stared at Vali, incredulous. Cyrilla understood his hesitance, with what was being asked.
“I know how it sounds,” Tait spoke up, standing ever so slightly between his brother and Ulfric “but he’s right. It’s something that we all went through, in our training. But we had years to master it, little by little. You don’t.”
“You want me to remember everything that happened to me as a child,” Ulfric declared, staring Tait down “memories that I haven’t been able to recall for years, they were that horrible. No, no I can’t.”
He turned and started to walk away, and Cyrilla could see his shaking. He hadn’t even gone into detail with her, all those weeks ago, about what his father had done. Yet what she had been told had made her blood boil. She knew he kept the worse events to himself. What could his mind be keeping from him?
“Can’t?” Vali challenged, causing Ulfric to pause, though he didn’t turn “or won’t?”
“I can’t,” he turned, and the seething gleam in his eye broke Cyrilla’s heart “don’t you understand? What I can remember is scarringly painful. If the nightmares I still live with are what my mind is letting me remember, then what horrors is it keeping from me?
“You can’t understand what it’s like,” Ulfric continued, eyes wide and voice shaking “you lot were lucky to have two parents while growing up, who didn’t leave you at the mercy of someone who hated and hurt you when they should have loved and cared for you. You never had to live in fear of being yourself, who you were truly meant to be, knowing that with one wrong move, one misspoken word, your entire world would come crashing down and the pain would be unbearable!”
She could see his world was crashing down around him, the glazed look in Ulfric’s eyes showing he barely saw them anymore. Cyrilla wanted to run to him, hold him, but Alfrothal was holding her back.
What were her brothers thinking, doing this to him?!
He was shaking, folding in on himself. Ulfric’s hands came up to his ears, eyes squeezing shut. He wanted to hide from the world, she could see it.
--
“Worthless! Useless!”
“Monster like your mother!”
“Nothing you don’t deserve, boy.”
Why was he hearing this? Why wouldn’t it go away?
‘No, no, please! Don’t hurt me!’
“Ulfric.”
He could hear this new voice, quiet, gentle like the hands on his arms. Ulfric couldn’t stop shaking, he could feel his tears escaping. The memories wouldn’t stop.
The beatings.
The screaming.
Being blamed for his mother leaving.
The anger on his father’s face that was only matched by that day on the battlefield. Every beating when he sung, used his magic, or showed compassion.
He was remembering all of it. Ulfric didn’t know if his heart could take it.
They ended as quickly as they started. His eyes flew open, wincing slightly at the pain in his lungs from how out of breath he was.
He’d dropped to his knees at one point, and he wasn’t alone. Magnar and Cyrilla were in front of him, and he was surrounded by their brothers. Cyrilla looked like she was ready to cry, and Magnar looked just as concerned.
Magnar was the one whose touch he felt, hands having gone from his arms to his own hands, holding them firmly.
“He’s never going to hurt you again, brother,” Magnar declared, the intensity of his tone only matched by his eyes “you’re not alone anymore.”
“…brother?” Ulfric repeated, confused at the smiles that came to Magnar and his brothers’ faces.
“You’re one of us,” Alfrothal declared, hand on Ulfric’s shoulder “Fyrkati by blood, and our sister’s beloved.”
“We’re by your side,” Vali agreed, dark eyes shining with the slightest of smiles “now, and always.”
“I really thought you hated me,” Ulfric admitted “after everything Oxanti has done…”
“But not you,” Tait insisted, his crooked smile earning one from the other prince in return “mistrust at first, maybe, but not because of where you’re from.”
“We needed to be sure our sister wouldn’t be hurt,” Magnar added “and after everything she told us?”
The nod the older man gave was enough, and Ulfric turned to Cyrilla with a teary smile.
She launched herself into his arms, holding him so tight he felt like his heart would burst.
He found a home, a place where people knew and accepted him, a woman who loved him for all he was. He had a family.
All he could do was stare. So many people, all the tension on the field, and all Ulfric could do was stare. Celina was-no, her name was Cyrilla.
Crown Princess Cyrilla. Of the Fyrkati people.
“You lied to me?” was all Ulfric could ask, eyes shining with the heartbreak he was feeling. He’d wanted to sound strong, especially in front of his father, but he’d barely managed to be heard. Was the person in front of him the same woman he’d grown to know and love over the last few weeks?
“Only my name,” Cyrilla replied, her father watching warily from a distance “my appearance was different because it needed to be. I was doing the same thing you were, living among my people before I took the throne. I swear, everything I told you was the truth.”
All the late-night talks about their ‘apprenticeships’, their lives, their families. The kiss they’d shared not even two days before all of this…
“Was any of it real?” Ulfric demanded, hand gripping his sword to keep from shaking in front of his father, who was watching like a hawk “any of it?”
All Cyrilla could do was nod, unable to speak past the lump in her throat. He couldn’t read her eyes, there was so much in them. Did she regret being caught, or regret how horribly he was feeling at the reveal of the truth? How did he even feel about this? Ulfric had borne his soul to this woman, whom his father considered the enemy. He’d told Cyrilla everything, more than he’d told anyone.
“You were tricked by Fyrkati falsehoods,” Matias declared, walking up next to his son and putting his hand on Ulfric’s armor-clad shoulder “now you know firsthand that you cannot trust them.”
“Oh, you are one to speak of trust, King Matias,” Cyrilla countered, eyes full of venom as she glared at the King “I know everything I need to know about you, and how you treat those under your protection. The people of our nations know that Ulfric is a good man, and will be a good king, but now I see the bar was not set very high for him.”
Ulfric felt his heart leap in fear as he watched his father hold his sword to her, though the blade at her neck did nothing to intimidate the Princess. Cyrilla almost looked vindicated.
“Kill me if you wish, but we both know the truth,” she hissed “you hate my people, and the thought of a Fyrkati woman standing up to you is too much for you to bear. The fact my words are enough of a threat proves my point, doesn’t it?”
“That’s quite enough out of you,” Matias growled as Arkyn kept the Fyrkati soldiers at bay “I won’t have you corrupting my son and destroying all I worked for.”
“Strike me down,” Cyrilla warned, hands at her sides clenched into fists “and the wrath of my entire people will rain upon you.”
Ulfric’s panic soared from his belly to his throat as his father was silent, before the grip on his sword tightened.
“So be it, then.” Matias muttered, before pulling his sword back and swinging.
Everything was in slow motion, as Ulfric watched his father’s sword swing for Cyrilla’s throat, the Fyrkati soldiers too far away to do anything. The fear in his heart spurred him to action, panic and terror escaping past his lips.
“NO!”
Everything happened so fast, Ulfric didn’t even know exactly what happened. Yet, there he was, hand outstretched, as Matias’ sword was stilled mid-air. The shimmer around the blade was distinctive as Cyrilla backed away to a safe distance, watching him in amazement.
When his hand dropped, so too did Matias’ sword, and father turned to son with rage in his eyes.
“So, the day has come,” Matias growled, sword quickly coming up to point at Ulfric “I swore on the day you were born, that if you ever took after your mother this way, I would do everything in my power to stop it.”
Took after his mother? There wasn’t time for Ulfric to think about it as he quickly blocked the first blow. His father was trying to kill him. Was this actually happening?
He blocked the first, but a third sword entered the fray as Matias swung again. A sword that was distinctly Fyrkati.
“Go with Cyrilla,” came Arkyn’s voice, pushing the other king’s sword aside as he put himself between father and son “I’ll handle this. Go, Ulfric!”
Spurred on by the order, the prince ran to join Cyrilla, sword in hand. For the first time in his life, Ulfric truly feared his father, and that fear drove him to run with Cyrilla, hand in hand, as her brothers quickly joined to guard their backs.
He didn’t understand it. He was Oxantian, their enemy. His people had made their lives hell. Why were they protecting him?
What had his father meant? The magic, had he done that?
Ulfric’s mind was racing as they retreated to Fyrkat in their boat, and the panic only settled a small bit in his throat when he saw in the distance that Arkyn was safe. The man put his life on the line for Ulfric. He didn’t know what he would do if the king had died for him.
The atmosphere of the boat was tense and silent, as they slowly approached the coast. Ulfric and Cyrilla were joined by Magnar and Vali, while Alfrothal and Tait had stayed with their father. The way Magnar was looking at him was a mix of tense curiosity, wonder, and gratefulness. It was only then that Ulfric realized he was still holding Cyrilla’s hand. Despite the reveal, she was the only one he was comfortable with. She was the only one he knew.
Was he shaking? Ulfric was pretty sure he was shaking. Cyrilla was the only one that was holding him together, at that point. He couldn’t let himself fall apart, not for anything. He had done magic, to save her life. How had he done it?
His father had nearly killed her, nearly killed him. Arkyn had saved him. The rage in Matias’ eyes had shaken Ulfric to his core. He’d never been looked at like that, by his father. Not even in his younger years, when the beatings were much more frequent.
His breathing was uneven, ragged, and he was definitely panicking at this point. The Fyrkati princes said nothing as Cyrilla gently whispered reassuring words in Ulfric’s ear, both men feeling sympathy for him. They didn’t know what Matias had said to his son, but they weren’t at all surprised when Ulfric had used magic.
Yet it seemed that he didn’t know how he’d done it. What else had the king of Oxanti hidden from his son?
They had a long journey ahead to get back to Perowal, and Ulfric would go through far more before it was all over.
Searching My Dreams for a Lifetime; Chapter Six (Criminal Minds)
“Distance means so little, when someone means so much.”
- Tom McNeal
◊
It had only been two months, but Shira knew that the bond between soul mates was different, compared to others, when they knew what they were to each other. There were texts and calls almost every night that Hotch was home, meeting every once and a while thanks to their busy schedules.
“So, we’re still on for this weekend, pending any new cases,” Shira chuckled, holding her phone to her ear with her shoulder as she made dinner “are you sure about this?”
“One hundred percent,” Hotch replied, and she could hear his smile “I want you guys to meet.”
Meeting Jack had been something that made Shira both excited and nervous, thinking about it. After all, this was her soul mate’s son. How would they get along? Would he think she’s just trying to replace his mother? She knew it was a stretch, but she was still nervous.
“So, we’ll go to that bagel place in Charlottesville that we talked about?” Hotch asked, earning some surprise from Shira.
“I thought it was my turn to come see you?” she replied, rolling her eyes fondly at the sound of his laughter.
“Something this important, you should feel comfortable,” he explained “besides, you made the menu sound delicious, so…”
“Way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, apparently,” Shira laughed “okay, that’ll be the plan. You can text me when you guys are on your way.”
“I will,” Hotch promised, and she could still hear his smile “good luck with your grading.”
“Another all-nighter,” she mused, shaking her head “stay safe at work. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
When they hung up, Shira stared at her phone, smiling still. Every conversation was bittersweet in it’s ending, but she was looking forward to the weekend.
~
Waking that Saturday morning, home on a rare weekend off, Hotch was excited. It was going to be a long drive, but Jack was looking forward to meeting the woman that ‘made daddy smile wide’.
After showering and getting dressed, he was getting ready to make breakfast when his phone went off.
[TEXT; Shira] I’m so sorry, Aaron, but I don’t think I’ll be able to make it today. My hip joints aren’t cooperating.
He was shocked to read it, but Hotch knew that these sorts of things happened with her EDS.
[REPLY] It’s okay. These things happen.
[TEXT; Shira] No, it’s not okay. I know how much you wanted Jack to meet me today, and this happened!
[REPLY] And how many times have we had to cancel plans because of me? I’m not upset. A little disappointed, maybe, but I understand it.
[TEXT; Shira] You’re too good to me, Aaron. Maybe we can do a video call, or something. Don’t argue with me on that, mister, I still want to meet the boy.
[REPLY] No such thing as too good. I know you want to meet him. I’ll think of something.
[TEXT; Shira] I know you will. I’ll let you get to breakfast.
[REPLY] Rest up, Shira. I’ll see you soon.
Mind racing as he sent the last text, Hotch was already coming up with a plan. As Jack came into the kitchen, he smiled for his son, giving him a tight hug.
“Hey buddy,” he greeted, kneeling down so he was eye-level with Jack “we have a slight change of plans, and I’ll need your help, okay?”
“Are we still gonna meet Miss Shira?” Jack asked, frowning a small bit.
“Of course,” Hotch replied, picking his son up as he stood and sitting the boy on the counter “but you remember what I told you, right? About how she sometimes has trouble because of her health?”
“She has a disorder that makes her joints not work sometimes,” Jack recited from memory “is it being mean to her again?”
“Yeah, it is,” he nodded “what do you say we bring food to her, huh?”
Jack’s happy nods made Hotch smile.
“Okay, you go get dressed, and we’ll eat breakfast on the way,” he told Jack, helping the boy down to the floor so he could scamper off “it’s a long drive!”
~
Shira felt like shit, in multiple ways. Arms taped up, stuck in her wheelchair, she was seriously not happy. It wasn’t often she needed to use her chair, but every time she did, she felt like people were staring at her, and the attention wasn’t at all welcome. Normally she wouldn’t mind, but the pain that came with it made her temper shorter and her emotions more frazzled.
She had been looking forward to meeting Jack, to seeing Aaron again. Yet she couldn’t embarrass them like that. She knew it wasn’t the case, that they wouldn’t be embarrassed, but the little voice in the back of her head would whisper otherwise. Aaron knew she needed a chair sometimes, and that she’d need it more in the future, but she was still scared of the first time he’d see her like this.
Texting Aaron, Shira couldn’t help wondering if he was up to something. She knew him, knew he would figure something out.
After she read the last text, she felt Michael put his head in her lap. The dog was as perceptive as a human, and knew when she was upset.
“Good boy,” Shira praised, smiling as she scratched behind his ears “to the kitchen, boy.”
Michael padded off to the kitchen, Shira rolling along close behind. She just had to figure out what to do to distract herself.
~
Pulling up to the apartment complex address, Hotch wondered how Shira would react to him and Jack showing up out of the blue. Hopefully the bagel order they were bringing would smooth things over.
“Okay, buddy, let’s go,” Hotch held onto Jack’s hand “hold onto the bags, okay?”
“Okay, daddy.” Jack nodded, focused on walking and holding the bags of food.
Hotch smiled at that, balancing the drink tray in his other hand as they went inside. Finally stopping in front of her apartment door, he took a deep breath before turning to look at Jack.
“You ready?” he asked, smiling as Jack nodded quickly “okay, here we go.”
Hotch knocked out a rhythm on the door, hearing Shira call out that she was coming, before a rolling sound was heard. Was that why she canceled? She had to be in her chair?
When the door opened, the look of surprise on her face was a mix of joy and apprehension.
“Surprise!” he greeted her, smiling nervously as Jack held up the bags for her to see “I know you weren’t expecting us, but hopefully these will smooth things over.”
“You two…” Shira sighed, smiling as she shook her head “not sure if telling you my weakness for Bodo’s was a good idea. Come on in, you guys.”
Once they were inside, and the door was closed, Hotch took the bags from Jack.
“Shira, this is my son Jack,” Hotch started, making the necessary introductions “Jack, this is my friend, Doctor Shira Amell.”
“It’s very nice to meet you, Jack,” Shira managed a smile, reaching and shaking his hand “your daddy has told me a lot about you.”
“It’s nice to meet you, too,” Jack replied, smiling shyly for her “daddy said your body is being mean to you, so we brought your favorite to help cheer you up!”
“And that’s very sweet of you both,” she declared, smiling a bit brighter “before we go enjoy all that delicious food, there’s someone you need to meet. He’s a bit wary, so it’s important you let him get the chance to smell you, okay?”
“Your dog Michael?” Jack asked “daddy said he was a soldier.”
“That’s right,” Shira nodded, glancing up and smiling at Hotch “he’s very protective, but he’s also pretty lovable. He just needs to get the chance to be familiar with you, okay?”
Only when Jack nodded did Shira call for Michael, and the older German Shepherd padded into the room.
“Come say hello.” Shira commanded, watching Michael come over and sniff Jack’s hand and face, taking a few moments before giving the kid’s cheek a big lick.
“Took him longer to get used to me.” Hotch declared, smiling wide at the sound of Jack’s laughter.
“Yeah, well, Jack smells like you, and Michael likes you,” Shira declared, smiling “hey Jack, why don’t you play with Michael while your daddy and I get the food set up in the kitchen?”
When Hotch nodded, Jack grinned, running off with Michael chasing close behind.
“I’m sorry we dropped by unannounced,” Hotch started, quiet, once Jack was out of earshot “but after this morning, I…”
“You were trying to help,” Shira finished “it’s okay, Aaron. I’m actually glad you guys came.”
“Is you needing your chair the reason you tried to cancel?” he asked, as they went into the kitchen “did you think it would bother us?”
Her silence spoke volumes, and he could feel his heart clench.
“People always stare,” she muttered, barely loud enough for him to hear “I didn’t want you to get embarrassed.”
“I wouldn’t be,” Hotch declared, determined and gentle in tone “and if anyone gave you trouble…”
Setting the drinks and bags on the counter, he walked over in front of her, kneeling so they were eye to eye.
“I would give it right back,” he promised, hand coming up to her cheek “you’re strong. You don’t deserve to be shamed for needing help sometimes.”
“Your kid’s in the other room and you’re gonna make me cry,” Shira muttered, smiling slightly as her hand came up to cover his “why are you so sweet to me?”
“Because you deserve it,” Hotch replied, smiling slightly “just like this.”
He rose from kneeling enough to reach her cheek, which he placed a gentle kiss upon. It wasn’t the first time he had kissed her on the cheek, they had grown more romantic over the last month, but Shira could feel the emotion behind it. The silent promise.
“Thank you,” she whispered, smiling as she watched him stand fully “though you shouldn’t crouch like that again. You have full permission to just lean in.”
“My knees thank you in return,” Hotch chuckled “so, hungry?”
“Starving.”
Lunch was laid out, and the three had a happy time enjoying their food. The conversation mostly focused on Shira and Jack getting to know each other. Hotch looked on, smiling, as the two most important people in his life bonded together.
“Are you daddy’s dragon?” Jack asked suddenly, nearly making Shira choke from the bluntness of it.
“What do you mean, buddy?” she asked, already picking up on the nickname his dad used.
“Daddy’s mark,” Jack explained, earning surprise from his father “mommy and Aunt Jessie said it’s what’ll help him find the person he’s gonna be with forever.”
Shira looked to Hotch in surprise, who returned the look just as shocked.
“Well…buddy…yes,” Shira nodded “I’m the one daddy’s mark is for.”
“Does that mean you’ll be my mommy someday?” Jack asked again, and Shira didn’t miss the sad flicker in her soul mate’s eyes.
“Depends on what you mean by that,” she replied, focusing on Jack “I’m not gonna replace your mommy. Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Aunt Jessie said I’d have a new mommy someday, when daddy met the person that he’s gonna be with forever,” Jack elaborated “you’re not gonna replace my mommy, but you’d be another one!”
“You are far too smart for your own good, you know that?” Shira gently teased, reaching and mussing up his hair “you know what? I’d be honored to be another mommy to you, sweetie. Probably not gonna be official for a while, though.”
Hotch looked on as Jack whined a bit at his hair being messed up, and he had to fight back a few tears. Jack was clearly okay with the relationship, and was enamored with Shira already. It made his heart light, to see his soul mate and son getting along so well.
As the afternoon wore on, Shira getting to spend more time with her two favorite guys, she’d nearly forgotten about her pain. It was still there, but the mental distraction was absolutely welcome.
Yet soon enough, the two needed to head out, to make the drive home. As Hotch gathered their things, Jack giving a sleepy Michael belly rubs, Shira’s phone rang. Seeing it was an international number, she had an idea of who it could be.
“Doctor Amell speaking,” she greeted as she answered “what can I do for you?”
Hotch watched as she spoke to whomever it was in quiet tones, her eyes shining brighter than when they had first arrived.
“Okay,” she nodded “okay, got it. I’ll look at the email and confirm everything. Thank you, professor. Thank you! Goodnight!”
“What was that about?” he asked, seeing her grinning as she hung up.
“That was the University of Cambridge, in England,” Shira explained “I’ve been asked to do a series of guest lectures there!”
“That’s amazing!” Hotch declared, smiling at how excited she was “congratulations!”
“There is a small problem, though,” she continued, smile fading a bit as she folded her hands in her lap “I’ll be gone for a while.”
“How long?” he asked, seeing Jack watch her just as closely.
“A month,” She answered, wincing at the surprise on both his and Jack’s faces “I’m not leaving for another three weeks, though.”
“Then we’ll have to make the most of it,” Hotch finally spoke up, offering her a comforting smile “the last two months were something like a dry run for this, I guess.”
“I suppose so,” Shira nodded “though I have to admit I might smuggle Jack with me, only because he’s small enough to fit in a suitcase and you’re not.”
“Hey!” he feigned offense as Jack laughed, smiling all the while “well, we’ll have to come back next week, won’t we buddy?”
Jack’s excited nods made Shira smile bright.
“I look forward to it.”
~
Three weeks flew by quicker than she wanted, and Shira soon found herself standing in Dulles in the early hours of the morning. Aaron had insisted on driving her, and a sleepy Jack equally insisted on being there.
“Call us when you land,” Aaron told her as they stopped at security “and when you’re settled in your quarters at the university.”
“I will,” she promised “and I’ll call every night. Just to talk to my two favorite guys in the whole world.”
“Gonna miss you,” Jack declared, giving her a tight hug around the waist “come home safe.”
“I’ll do my very best, buddy,” Shira promised, leaning down and kissing the top of Jack’s head “you keep your daddy out of trouble for me, okay?”
“Yeah, because I’m the one who needs to be kept out of trouble,” Aaron scoffed, smiling slightly “come here.”
He pulled Shira in for a tight hug, and she returned it just as tightly. Being gone for a month was going to be hard, compared to when he was gone for a case, but this was her own work. Her life, her passion.
“I’ll miss you,” he whispered, kissing her cheek before finally pulling away “have a safe flight.”
“I will,” she nodded, gathering her carry-on, checked luggage already taken care of with the airline “I’ll call you guys, I promise.”
She could feel the words tugging at her heart, as she waved goodbye once she was almost past security, but she didn’t say them. She couldn’t. Not with how long she was gonna be gone.
~
Hotch watched as she made it past security safely, before gathering a sad and sleepy Jack into his arms. Now he had a better idea of what it was like while he was gone, and he didn’t like it all that much. Focusing was going to be tough, and he knew Jack would be counting down the days until they were back to pick her up.
In his heart, he felt guilty. He’d said that he’d miss her, and that was the truth, but that wasn’t all that Hotch had wanted to say. He couldn’t, though, not with her leaving for a month. He wanted the moment to be special, and didn’t want them to be apart.
In three short months since meeting, he’d fallen in love with Shira, and he wanted her to know. He couldn’t tell her now, though. He’d have to wait.
The next four weeks were going to be damn hard.
◊
“Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.”
-Kahlil Gibran
Searching My Dreams for a Lifetime; Chapter Five (Criminal Minds)
“Don’t try to stop your heart from falling in love, because in the end it may be worth it.”
-Fad Ibra
◊
It was a long night of little sleep, Hotch unable to focus after closing the case with the Grand Rapids PD. Knowing Shira was in the hospital, where he couldn’t be by her side to make sure she was resting, he barely slept.
Rossi knew he was going to the hospital early that morning, so Hotch left without waking anyone else. Running on little sleep and coffee, Hotch spoke to the nurses, thanking them, before going to Shira’s room. Seeing her laying in a hospital bed, looking small and pale, he felt his heart clench.
He was silent as he sat down in the chair next to her bed, unsure any words would help make things better.
Hotch sighed, elbows on his knees and resting his head on his hands. The exhaustion was hitting him, but he couldn’t fall asleep.
He waited, watching her sleep, resisting the urge to take her hand. He could only hope she wouldn’t wake up with more pain. A sprained ankle, dislocated shoulder, and the bruise turning blue on her cheek…
“You look about as bad as I feel…”
He was startled from his exhausted haze, looking up to see Shira watching him.
“And just how do you feel?” he asked, straightening up.
“Like I got body slammed by a freight train,” she replied, wincing at the deep breath she took “and punched in the face.”
“Well, then you’re not wrong,” Hotch declared, offering her a small smile “the rest of the team wanted me to tell you they want you back soon.”
“Spencer probably wants to not be the only PHD holder again,” Shira muttered, smiling slightly “and JJ wants someone to talk to.”
Hotch smiled, turning as he heard a nurse come in. Sitting back, he watched as the nurse took Shira’s vitals, checking her over.
“Healing well,” the nurse told Shira, smiling for her “any pain outside of why you’re here?”
“Nothing out of the ordinary for me, no,” Shira replied, shaking her head “it’s all low-level. At least, compared to my shoulder and ankle.”
“Let me know if you need anything, okay hon?” the nurse replied, smiling, as she glanced from Hotch back to Shira “doc will be in soon to see you, but I think you’ll be well looked after until then.”
Shira blushed at the insinuation, earning a tired chuckle from Hotch. He thanked the nurse as she left, before turning back to Shira.
“Nurses told me that the doctor is looking to release you today,” he declared “if you haven’t gotten worse.”
“Oh, I’m definitely sore,” she sighed “but nothing unusually bad.”
Hotch watched her, studying her face intently.
“What?” Shira asked, giving him a confused look.
“Just wondering how you became so stubborn,” he replied, huffing a bit as she stuck her tongue out at him “other than your diagnosis and everything that led up to it. I’ve honestly never met a woman quite as stubborn and determined as you.”
“Well, that’s what happens when you have to survive a shitty childhood,” she sighed, looking away, not noticing the understanding gleam in his eyes “my mom wasn’t the greatest. I understand losing your soul mate affects people, but…”
“We can’t always understand why our parents do what they do,” Hotch declared, expression soft “or why they treat us how they do. We can only make ourselves better than what we had.”
Shira teared up as he spoke, turning to look at him as she took a shuddering breath. The way he spoke, she knew he understood. They’d been through similar experiences.
“It’s near impossible to go through hell and come out smiling,” she muttered “you have. You’re strong.”
“As are you.” He insisted, reaching and putting his hand over hers. She gave his hand a small squeeze.
“What did you do before joining the Bureau?” Shira asked, smiling slightly at the surprise on his face “what? We’ve got some time.”
“I was a prosecutor,” Hotch answered, smiling a bit “police officer while I went through college and law school.”
“Police?” that caught Shira’s interest “what did you leave the department as?”
“I was a hostage negotiator for SWAT,” he explained “one of the reasons I teach the unit at the Academy.”
“…what was your badge number?” Shira was quiet as she asked, earning Hotch’s interest at her curiosity.
“Is there a reason for wanting to know?” he wondered, seeing her fidget and try to avoid his gaze.
“I’ll explain,” she promised, nodding “just please…what was it?”
“4917.” Hotch recited, remembering it as clearly as when he was part of the department. The shocked breath that Shira took wasn’t lost on him.
“What is it?” he asked “what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she shook her head “I’m just…trying to process something.”
“Sometimes it helps to talk about it,” Hotch offered, eyebrows knitting together in concern “what is it?”
“I’ve only told one other person about my Mark,” Shira started, earning confusion from him “and why it encouraged me to join the FBI, before everything. A Justice Department shield, with a banner underneath that has the FBI motto on it, and a badge number.
“4917 is the number,” she continued, turning to look at Hotch “I can show you, if you need to see…”
“Hayley was the only one who’d ever seen mine in person,” it wasn’t the first thing he wanted to say, but the shock of the moment brought it out “saying a lot, since it takes up my upper back. A dragon, red and black, in flight- “
“With a shadow underneath it…” Shira finished with him, fighting back tears “dragons have always been my favorite mythical creature. My high school teacher, the one who started me on the historian path, gave me a painting at my graduation. It’s my most prized possession, the first thing I hung in my office when I became a professor. A dragon, red and black and in flight, with a shadow underneath.”
The two stared at each other for a moment, before Shira smiled.
“Hi.” She whispered, earning a small laugh from Hotch.
“Hi,” He replied, and Shira loved seeing the twinkle in his eyes “this is definitely not how I expected us to meet, I’ll be honest with you.”
“Didn’t think I’d ever get the chance to meet you,” Shira declared “god, thinking about what I said before…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so mean about myself.”
“Chronic illness takes its toll,” Hotch insisted, squeezing her hand “bad days and negative attitudes from it are a part of it. I’ll be honest; I didn’t think my soul mate would be someone like you.”
“Someone like me?” she repeated, curious and a little worried.
“Genius, strong, resilient,” he explained “beautiful. After everything I’ve gone through…I never expected someone as amazing as you.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere, Aaron,” Shira gently teased, smiling at the happy smile that came to his face “you’re a strong and smart man, a survivor. You’ve been through all the circles of hell and came out smiling. You have a son that I know adores you like you do him, with how you smile when he’s mentioned. How could you be meant for anyone less than someone just as amazing as you?”
“You do realize how well you just complimented yourself there, right?” Hotch teased in return, heart soaring as he listened to her laugh “the team’s been watching us, trying to figure out what our connection is.”
“First felt it in Quantico, right?” she asked, smiling at his surprised face “you didn’t seem like you were acting like yourself, from the way your team reacted.”
“Damn profilers,” he muttered, chuckling “if Rossi started a betting pool…”
“Guilt him out of some of the pot,” Shira suggested, smile growing as she heard him laugh “say it’s only fair we get a cut, since they were betting on us.”
“He’ll listen to you on that, more than he’d listen to me.” Hotch declared, smiling.
“Maybe,” She giggled, leaning back and giving a small sigh “You don’t mind if I start calling you Aaron so soon, do you?”
When his smile morphed into a look of confusion, Shira continued, nervous.
“It’s just that ‘Hotch’ seems like a nickname for friends, and…Aaron is more…”
“It’s okay,” he declared, seeing her fidgeting “I want you to. Besides, it’s only fair, Shira.”
His emphasis on her first name wasn’t lost on her, and she couldn’t help smiling at that.
“Okay, then, Aaron,” Shira replied, giving their joined hands a squeeze “so…how are we going to go forward?”
“I say we just let things progress,” Hotch said after mulling it over “We’re friends, still getting to know each other.”
“And we go at what pace feels right to us?” Shira continued, smiling as he nodded in reply “that sounds like a plan to me.”
Hotch smiled at that, gently lacing the fingers of their joined hands together.
This definitely wasn’t how he expected meeting his soul mate to go, but looking back on it, he wouldn’t have had it any other way.
~
Later that night, after her release and the work at the station was done, the team was getting ready to go to the airport. Between her cane, her arm in a sling, and her bag, Shira wasn’t quite sure how she was going to manage everything. As she left the elevator and started into the lobby, she managed a small smile as the rest of the team greeted her. Seeing Hotch, her smile widened, though it somewhat hurt.
When he walked over, she looked up at him with a soft smile, giving a small laugh as he immediately took her bag.
“Why thank you, good sir,” she gently teased, quiet “but seriously, thank you. I wouldn’t have been able to carry that easily.”
“That’s why I took it,” Hotch replied, smiling gently for her “come on, we’ve got a plane to catch.”
At the hospital, they agreed that they wouldn’t make an effort to hide their connection, but they wouldn’t go out of their way to show it or tell anyone. Shira had teased that it would mess with the team, the mixed signals. Hotch had only given a sly smile, saying that the team deserved no less.
“Hey, Doc,” Morgan greeted her, slyly smirking as he looked between the two as they came closer “how’re you feeling?”
“Like I went ten rounds with a boxing freight train and I just wanna go home,” she replied, laughing a bit “I think we all just want to get out of here, yeah?”
“Yeah, we got a plane to catch,” Rossi agreed, a pleased glint in his eyes “remind me not to try and pull one over on you, Doctor. You’re a damn brave and stubborn woman.”
“Well, it’s how I got this far.” Shira chuckled, wincing a bit at the pain from her jostled shoulder.
Aboard the jet an hour later, it was a quiet flight as everyone finally relaxed. Going over paperwork, reading, listening to music, each member of the team was unwinding in some way.
“What are you listening to, Doctor Amell?” JJ asked, seeing the other woman pulling up a playlist on her mp3 player.
“Just a mix for relaxing,” Shira replied, leaving an earbud out as she smiled for JJ “I’ve got a varied taste, when it comes to music. Everything from Kelly Clarkson and Pink, to Zac Brown Band and Reba, to Amaranthe and System of a Down.”
“Nice,” JJ chuckled “must make for interesting listening.”
“Well, to go from heavy metal ballads, to pop songs, to irish folk music, to fun classic country is definitely a roller coaster,” Shira laughed “but it’s a lot of fun.”
Out of the corner of her eye, JJ saw the admiring gaze that Hotch had as he watched Shira, and the blond couldn’t help her smile.
“So, when did you two figure it out?” she asked, earning their shocked attention “at the hospital?”
“Way to blow the whole thing, JJ!” Morgan groaned, earning laughter from the others.
“Yes, JJ, at the hospital,” Shira answered, laughing “no, I won’t give any details. That’s between us.”
“So, you guys really are soul mates?” Reid wondered, looking on as Shira and Hotch smiled for each other.
“Not exactly the way I had pictured us meeting,” Hotch declared, looking from Shira to Reid “but yes, we are.”
“I wouldn’t have had it any other way,” Shira mused, smiling softly “though that’s an opinion in hindsight, of course.”
“Not exactly the pair that you’d expect,” Rossi mused, loud enough for the two to hear “but you’re definitely meant to be.”
“Oh, you knew from the beginning, didn’t you?” Shira teased, smiling as he laughed “Aaron and I will take a cut of that pot, thank you very much. You guys WERE betting on us, after all.”
“Don’t try to deny it,” Hotch declared, before anyone could speak up “I know you guys too well.”
“Okay, okay,” Rossi laughed “soon as we land, you greedy lovebirds.”
The amusedly annoyed look that Hotch gave him, paired with Shira sticking her tongue out at him, had Rossi grinning. The two really were perfectly matched.
~
Once back in Virginia, back on BAU grounds, Hotch walked Shira to her car.
“You’ll be okay to drive home?” he asked, helping her put her bag in the passenger seat.
“Not my first time driving in a sling, won’t be the last,” she promised, smiling up at him as they walked around to the drivers side “I got sleep on the plane. Less than two hours to drive, anyway.”
“Let me know you got back safely?” Hotch requested, flushing a little at the emotional expression so close to work.
“Of course,” Shira nodded, standing on her toes to quickly kiss his cheek “I know you’re a worrier. I’ll call you.”
“Thank you,” he smiled, as she settled back on her feet “you’re very physically affectionate, aren’t you?”
“With everyone I care about,” she replied, grinning at the blush that had come to his cheeks “and it increases with how close I am to the person, so you have an idea of what you’re getting into.”
“I look forward to it,” Hotch declared, opening the drivers side door of her car “drive safely.”
“I will,” Shira promised, climbing into the car “I promise. You get back to your team. Clear the paperwork, so Kolbeck gets put away for good.”
“I will.” He promised in return, stepping back as she closed the door and started the engine. Before she left, he got a text message. Checking, he saw it was from Shira.
[TEXT; Shira] White knight manners and southern boy charm. Already worming your way in, Aaron. Gold star from teacher!
Hotch laughed as he read it, looking up to watch her drive away. When her car was out of sight, he turned to head back to the office, smile still on his lips.
He was a lucky, lucky man, and he looked forward to the weeks, months, and years to come.
◊
“The greatest love stories are not those in which love is only spoken, but those in which it is acted upon.”
– Steve Maraboli
Searching My Dreams for a Lifetime; Chapter Four (Criminal Minds)
“It takes courage to live, yes, but it takes true bravery to stand your ground in a world aligned against you.”
-Jake Bonsignore
◊
Shira didn’t know which forest she was in, but she knew it wasn’t far from the city. They hadn’t driven that long. Whoever it was, they had taken care not to hit her head or break her glasses, which meant they knew about her EDS and Brittle Cornea Syndrome. Bound with her arms above her head, forced to kneel, she looked for any sign of where she was.
“Alison, listen to me,” she called out to the girl, bound to another tree nearby “it’ll be okay. You’re going to be fine.”
“How can you promise her that?” the Unsub asked, voice deep and raspy “and here I thought you were a genius.”
“I can promise her that because I’m here,” Shira countered, focused on the area of his face “and it’s been me you’re after, this whole time.”
“And yet it took you this long to figure it out?” he replied, the laugh in his voice grating at her. Yet she knew not to antagonize.
“What can I say?” she shrugged “You make for some fierce competition.”
As she spoke, she wracked her brain for every fan name she could think of, trying to remember his name. Minnesota. OBK. Who was…
Her blood ran cold, as she finally remembered.
“You did all this for me, Kolbeck?” she asked as he walked towards Alison, causing him to stop in his tracks “I would be lying if I said I wasn’t flattered.”
“And here I thought you’d forgotten about me,” He turned, pulling his hood back so Shira could see him “you never responded to my letters.”
“A mistake on my part,” Shira replied, playing along to try and distract him “or maybe I was scared. You really were giving me a run for my money, Oscar.”
“Seems you’ve learned,” Kolbeck declared, walking over to Shira “just like me.”
The beat of silence, with him bringing the tip of his blade under her chin, had Shira resisting the urge to shiver.
“Pay attention, Doctor,” he told her “our fun is just beginning.”
~
When the team got to Kolbeck’s address, the house was dark and empty.
“Should have known he wouldn’t be here,” Rossi muttered, once they confirmed the house was clear “now that he’s got her, he’s not gonna wait.”
“Reid, Morgan, tear his office apart,” Hotch ordered, his desperation to stay calm almost visible “see what you can find to tell us about where he’d have taken Alison and Shira.”
“Shira’s abduction was about opportunity,” Emily declared as the others left “it was the first time she was anywhere close to vulnerable since we got here.”
“Takes guts to stage an abduction in front of a police station,” Rossi agreed “or desperation. After all, he still has Alison.”
“He wants to make her watch,” Emily replied “after all, he’s a fan of hers. Maybe he’s looking for her approval?”
“Or to show he’s better than her,” Hotch spoke up “prove to her that she isn’t the expert and genius that everyone makes her out to be.”
“Makes sense, if he’s a narcissistic misogynist,” Rossi nodded, watching Hotch closely “the idea of any woman being better than him is too much. Bet if we look at his history with the other victims, they’ll all have had interactions with him where he perceived them as acting superior.”
As silence fell on the three, Emily left to help the others, leaving Hotch and Rossi alone.
“We’ll find her, kid,” Rossi promised, seeing the younger man’s shoulders tense up “she’s strong, and smart. She’ll be able to keep him distracted. She knows we’re coming.”
“I just hope we don’t get there too late,” Hotch replied “for Alison’s sake, and…”
Their names were called, and both men rushed to the office, were the others were standing over a table.
“We found a map,” came Reid’s voice, moving so that Hotch could see it “it’s got the different crime scenes plotted out, but the organization is odd.”
Looking at the map, Hotch could see the pattern right away.
“Mannaz,” he declared “the rune for Man. There’s seven points. This one’s missing.”
He pointed to the spot in the middle, between the two lines of points.
“He’s focused on the mythology, he has to keep to the plan,” Rossi agreed “that’s where he’ll be.”
~
“Don’t close your eyes, Alison,” Shira called over, watching as the girl resisted the urge to pass out “stay with me! It’ll be okay!”
Shira tried to remember every detail, watching what Kolbeck was doing. He was taking blood from Alison to draw the sigil and runes.
“You know, there’s something I don’t get Oscar,” she continued, earning his attention from bandaging the other woman up “blood is a normal part of sacrifice, but why carve the symbol into each tree? Isn’t the blood enough? Or do you need to leave your scar where people can see?”
“See, more proof you’re not the genius people make you out to be,” Kolbeck taunted, pointing the knife at Shira “hypocritical of you to call someone out for making their mark.”
“At least I didn’t hurt anyone,” Shira growled, struggling against her restraints as he stalked closer “you could have done so much more, Oscar!”
“Didn’t hurt anyone?!” Kolbeck shouted “you coming on the scene destroyed any chance at a successful career! You stole that from me!”
“How can I steal something you never had?” Shira taunted, trying desperately to keep his attention on her.
Kolbeck’s slap to her face sent Shira to the ground, pulling her shoulder out of its socket and twisting her ankle.
“I was set to be a leader, the best!” he cried out, hands shaking in anger “but you, a young girl with no reputation, took the entire field by storm and stole that from me!”
“Then focus on me,” Shira hissed “she has nothing to do with this.”
“Oh, I have something better planned for you,” Kolbeck smirked, pulling her up by her hair “why do you think the chains and hooks are here?”
Shira immediately knew what he was referring to.
“You want revenge,” she growled “you’ll use Hrafnkel’s fate, from the Freysgoða.”
“You’ll be hung from the ankles like the piece of meat you are.” Kolbeck grinned.
“I don’t think so, Oscar!”
The sudden sound of Hotch’s voice had Kolbeck pulling Shira up as a human shield, his knife to her throat. Trying not to cry out, Shira watched as the team emerged from the forest with police backup. Hotch and Rossi were the closest, guns trained on Kolbeck.
“Alison’s lost blood, but he bandaged her up.” Shira called to them, wincing at the pull to her dislocated shoulder and weight on her ankle.
“Let her go, Oscar,” Rossi spoke up “you wanted to make a name for yourself, you don’t want to die before you can see it happen.”
“I’ll be remembered forever!” Kolbeck replied, growling “the entire country will know my name!”
“Not for long,” Hotch countered “you die, your name will be in the news for a while, but then they’ll move on.
“Let her go, Oscar.” Hotch continued, and even in the dark, Shira could see his eyes shining in anger and fear. Shira could feel the knife pulling away, but she knew that he wouldn’t go quietly. She had to act, they needed him alive to exact justice.
Stomped on his foot, forcing his legs apart.
Backwards kick to the groin to incapacitate.
Elbow to the nose when he let her go.
A punch to the face to disorient, and for her own satisfaction.
Rossi and Hotch ran up behind her, Rossi handcuffing Kolbeck as Hotch caught Shira, removing her restraints.
“He was going to make me watch Alison die,” she declared, shock starting to set in “then he was going to turn on me. Make me suffer like Hrafnkel in the Freysgoða. Pierce my ankles and hang me like a piece of meat…”
“You’re safe,” Hotch promised “you’re safe, Shira. We got him. He won't be able to hurt you.”
She let out a strangled sob, nearly collapsing from the pain of her ankle and shoulder. Yet she did her best to keep from breaking down. She couldn't let him see what he did to her. She wouldn't let Kolbeck have the satisfaction.
~
Hotch could tell she was having trouble standing, holding onto him. He kept Shira upright, until Kolbeck was gone. Once Rossi had the man gone, Hotch led Shira to a tree root to sit down.
“Where are you injured?” he asked, kneeling in front of her, seeing the way her left shoulder looked out of place.
“Got roughed up a good bit,” Shira replied, quiet “when I was tied up, my hands were above me. He slapped me hard enough to send me to the ground, so the force pulled my arm from my shoulder. Twisted my ankle on the way down.”
“I can see the bruises,” Hotch muttered, looking at the blooming red marks on her face and wrists “anything else?”
“Just that,” she declared, shaking her head “he only got as far as taking blood from Alison, to mark the trees.”
“We’ll get your statement after you’ve been taken care of,” he insisted, looking Shira in the eye “you’re in no condition to be doing anything else.”
“I…I don’t think I can walk,” she muttered, cradling her left arm to her chest “wouldn’t be able to lean on you…”
Morgan had come over while they were talking, after paramedics had taken care of Alison, standing far enough back so he could watch. Seeing the gentle way Hotch handled Shira, Morgan couldn’t help wondering at how everything had played out.
“Alison said that she’d probably be dead, if it weren’t for you,” he spoke up, earning Hotch and Shira’s attention “said you distracted him enough that he left her alone. That was good work, Doctor.”
“Thank you,” Shira replied, smiling tiredly “I just knew I couldn’t let him hurt her more…”
“Save your energy,” Morgan told her, seeing how tired she was “Hotch, we can take it from here, if you want to go to the hospital with her.”
“Keep in contact.” Hotch ordered, waiting for Morgan to nod before turning to Shira.
“Put your good arm around me,” he told her gently “I’m taking you to the ambulance.”
When Shira leaned in, putting her arm around his neck, Hotch an arm around her waist and one under her knees, gently lifting her and holding her close. Morgan watched as Hotch took her away, meeting with the second group of paramedics at the tree line.
“White knight rescuing his lady,” came Emily’s voice from right behind him, causing Morgan to jump a little “she’s one hell of a woman.”
“Perfect fit for him,” Morgan agreed, rolling his eyes at her laughter “wonder where they’ll take it from here.”
~
To say that Hotch was beside himself would be an understatement. On the ride to the hospital, Shira had fallen unconscious. He sat unmoving in the waiting room, left there by the doctors as they checked her over.
“Agent Hotchner?” he looked up at the sound of the doctor calling his name.
“How is she?” he asked, standing and walking to meet the other man.
“She passed out from the pain and adrenaline crash,” the doctor explained, smiling to reassure Hotch “we were able to get her shoulder back in place, and her ankle is being taken care of. We’ve sedated her so she can sleep the rest of the night, so she can get her rest despite her pain. Thanks to you telling us of her EDS, we were able to make her comfortable enough in the bed, so hopefully she won’t deal with any more dislocations or subluxations.”
“Has she been taken to a room?” Hotch asked, shoulders sagging in relief.
“She will be soon, but visiting hours will be over soon,” the doctor replied “I’ll get her room number for you, and you’ll be able to see her in the morning.”
“Thank you.” Hotch nodded, reaching and shaking the doctor’s hand. Once he was gone, Hotch nearly collapsed into a nearby chair, elbows on his knees as his head hung low.
Why was all of this affecting him so much? He knew her, to be sure, but not so well that he’d be so torn up about her.
There was only one conclusion, but he couldn’t think about it. Not after what had happened to Hayley. The thought of Shira dying because of his association with her was almost too much for him.
He had to be there when she woke up. Hotch needed to know for sure.
Was she his soul mate?
◊
“You come to love not by finding the perfect person, but by seeing an imperfect person perfectly.”
– Sam Keen
Searching My Dreams for a Lifetime; Chapter Three (Criminal Minds)
“Strong people stand up for themselves, but stronger people stand up for others.”
-Suzy Kassem
◊
Shira wanted to help, but she knew that there wasn’t much she could do. Her job was to focus on the ritualistic and occult aspects of the murders, not the missing persons search.
Yet sitting there in a sling, watching the others do what they did best, she felt almost useless. She knew the key to it all was the sigil, the one mark that she couldn’t figure out. It was the key.
Staying at the station with JJ, Shira was working on the sigil.
“What’s so difficult about the symbol?” the blonde asked, watching Shira trace different shapes to try and figure out how it was put together.
“This sigil is a personal one,” Shira explained, focused on her slow pencil movements “those are made up of symbols, letters, numbers, most anything that is personal to the magic user creating it. When I do work creating sigils, they’re usually from a word or phrase, and I use letters from them.”
“So, whatever this is made of is personal to the Unsub,” JJ mused “and could help us find him.”
“It’s his signature,” Shira declared, glancing up “just need to figure out how exactly.”
The quiet that descended started playing on Shira’s nerves, and she started to twirl her pencil.
“I wonder how their soul mates are doing…” she muttered, earning JJ’s attention. Seeing the curious look on the other woman’s face, Shira gave a small shrug.
“I just remember something that happened to me,” she explained “and I worry about the soul mates of these women. The amount of pain the women feel…it would be excruciating to their fated one, especially if they haven’t met yet.”
“You’ve felt your soul mate’s pain before?” JJ asked, sitting up in her seat a bit “if you haven’t met him yet…it must have been a lot that he went through.”
“I can imagine,” Shira nodded, falling silent for a moment before her hand ghosted over her abdomen “I don’t normally want to think about what happened to mine…”
“Do you want to talk about it?” JJ questioned, reaching and gently putting a hand on Shira’s shoulder.
“It was almost a year and a half ago,” Shira started, quiet “Late at night. I was up late, working on my book. I suddenly felt a stabbing in my torso. I felt it eight more times before the pain stopped.”
“Stabbed nine times?” now that sounded familiar to JJ “I’m sorry you had to feel that…”
“Just makes me wonder what sort of person my soul mate is,” Shira replied, smiling sadly “I know they’re still alive, but…how?”
“They’re strong,” JJ declared, smiling for Shira “that much is obvious. Would have to be, anyway, to be your match.”
Shira nodded, smiling for JJ before looking down at and continuing her work. The other woman watched her, wondering if she was going to tell the rest of the team after the case was over.
There was no doubt in her mind, that Shira and Hotch were meant to be.
~
When the rest of the team returned, the serious look on Hotch’s face was one that JJ absolutely didn’t like. It wasn’t often he was that angry.
“Doctor Amell,” Hotch started, entering the conference room “we need to talk.”
Shira’s confusion was evident, considering what happened that morning, but she stood and faced him anyway.
“Agent Hotchner?” she replied, watching him.
“All six previous victims, and the newest one, they all have one thing in common,” he continued, aware the rest of the team was watching “they look like you. And this newest victim, Allison Kane, she has your books on her shelf. Attended multiple lectures of yours.”
“So, they’re surrogates for me,” Shira continued, trying not to let her panic show “and you’re now convinced it’s someone I know.”
“Is it?” Hotch demanded “we both know the type of pain Allison is going to go through, so you need to think very carefully. Do you have any enemies?”
“I’m a woman in a male dominated field,” she countered “purported to be the best in the field. Of course, I have enemies. I get multiple death threats a week, Agent.”
“Death threats?” Rossi repeated “you’re a historian.”
“And a woman,” Shira replied, looking to the other agent “do you know how many narcissistic misogynists exist in career fields like mine? I was seen as a threat the day my first paper was published. Death threats started before the ink was even fucking dry and haven’t stopped since. Only increased when I became a teacher.”
“We need a list,” Hotch declared “everyone who sent you threats, especially the incredibly specific and violent ones.”
“I can do you better,” she reached for her phone, dialing a number and putting the phone on speaker “a lot better.”
“Doctor Amell!” came Garcia’s voice from the phone “what can I do for you, my fellow lady genius?”
“I need you to go into my computer at the school, please,” Shira explained “there’s a database on there, of death threats I’ve received. Names, copies of letters and emails, pictures if I could find them. It’s organized by type.”
“First of all, I’m so glad you’re so nice,” Garcia declared “second, I’m so sorry you have to have this because of how nice you are. I can have it quick as a flash! What am I running it against?”
“Not sure,” Shira replied “I’ll leave that to your team to tell you. I just know it’s become apparent that the unsub wants to target me as his endgame.”
“I’ll have the database ready to go for when the team has more to run!” Garcia reassured “best of luck, doctor.”
“Thank you, Miss Garcia.” Shira smiled, hanging up the phone.
“How many threats do you get?” Reid asked, tone clearly surprised.
“Ten or so a week,” Shira explained “more right after exams, or when a new book or paper get published. I’m telling you, though, the key is this symbol here.”
“Then we’ll need you to keep working on it,” Hotch told her “and you’ll be with an escort at all times. One of us, or a detective, am I clear?”
“As crystal,” she replied, shoulders tense “I won’t stop working on this. I’ll figure out what it means, Hotch, I promise you.”
“I know you will, Shira,” he nodded, tone softening “if you need anything, just say so.”
The rest of the team was surprised when she called him by their nickname, even more so when he called her by her first name. Yet they had to find Allison. It was time to focus.
~
It was late at night, the team still at the station. It had been nearly a week since they’d arrived, two days since Allison Kane was taken. Scared, frustrated, at the end of her rope, Shira was trying her hardest to figure out the sigil, but she was coming up short.
“Might make my own sacrifice to Odin…” she grumbled, looking down at the symbol “if I could just figure this…”
Shira paused, thinking it over. What if it wasn’t someone who’d threatened her? Sacrifices were meant to appease…what if it was someone who’d been an admirer of hers?
Looking at the symbol with new eyes, she studied the brush strokes, and it all clicked immediately.
“It’s a literal signature,” she muttered, earning JJ’s attention “a literal signature!”
“What do you mean?” JJ asked, jolting Shira out of her half-asleep daze.
“The sigil, it’s his initials!” Shira explained, showing the three letters “a combination of O B K. He’s literally putting his signature on the crime scene.”
“How did you figure it out?” JJ took the paper, looking it over.
“I realized we were looking at it wrong,” Shira elaborated, picking up her phone and punching in the familiar number “regardless of why he picked the method, these women are sacrifices. A sacrifice is meant to appease. It isn’t someone who wants me dead, not directly.”
“It’s a fan of yours.” JJ concluded, listening on speaker phone as Garcia picked up on the other end.
“What can I do ya for, good Doctor?” the technical analyst asked, peppy as always.
“Miss Garcia,” Shira greeted, smiling as JJ chuckled slightly “On my school computer, I keep another database. It’s of fans whose letters came across as weird, creepy, or too intense. It’s formatted the same as the other one. I need you to access it, please, and look for entries with combinations of the initials O.B.K.”
“Look for people who are from Minnesota, Garcia,” JJ added “this guy has been methodical in holding to his schedule. He won’t stray far from his home, at least not the state. Too much work to do.”
“Ugh, creepy fans,” Garcia groaned “always the worst. I’ll run through it and get back to you guys with what I find.”
“Thank you, Garcia.” JJ and Shira replied together, smiling as Shira hung up.
“This is good,” JJ nodded “you did great, Doctor Amell. We really couldn’t have solved this so quickly without you.”
“I hear a ‘thank you’ coming,” Shira laughed “and you can thank me when this is over and Allison Kane is back safe.”
Standing and stretching, she gave a tired smile.
“I’m gonna get some air,” she told the blonde “just be right out front.”
“If this is a fan of yours, you shouldn’t be alone, like Hotch said,” JJ told her, standing up “who knows what this fan could do?”
“I’ll just be out front, not even past the stairs,” Shira promised “I’ll be…oh god, I sound like the victim in a horror movie.”
That pulled a surprised laugh from JJ, causing Shira to smile.
“I’ll go with a detective,” Shira reassured her “I’ll be okay, I promise.”
JJ nodded, watching as Shira walked over to a Detective heading out, talking to him before they walked out together.
Fifteen minutes later, when the rest of the team came back, JJ’s phone rang, and seeing it was Garcia, she put it on speaker.
“Is Doctor Amell with you?” Garcia asked as soon as they connected.
“She stepped out for some air with a detective,” JJ replied “what did you find?”
“I ran the initials through the creepy fan database that she’d put together, like she asked,” Garcia explained, earning the curiosity of the rest of the team “O.B.K. and residence in Minnesota. Got one name. Oscar Bennet Kolbeck. Another historian who’d been researching Viking rituals. He started writing to Doctor Amell after her Master’s dissertation on Norse blood rituals, but she never responded.”
“Would have fueled his desire to make a connection,” Rossi mused “he wants her attention. How did Doctor Amell come to this conclusion?”
“She made the connection that this M.O. turns the victims into sacrifices,” JJ explained “and sacrifices are meant to appease. Someone who wanted her to directly suffer wouldn’t want to appease her.”
“Creepy fans,” Reid mused, wincing “I can relate.”
“We need to talk to Shira,” Hotch declared “what sort of letters did Kolbeck send her, Garcia?”
“He said she was a bright, rising star in their field,” Garcia replied “a beacon of wisdom that Odin would visit to learn from.”
“Hence choosing an execution method that relates to Odin.” Morgan said, looking to the others.
“Yet there’s all these references to his own work, and how her paper took attention away from it,” Garcia continued “yet it’s all very humble-brag, backhanded compliment in it’s phrasing. Very passive-aggressive.”
“He sees her as competition,” Hotch sighed “fierce competition, and it’s only a matter of time before he tries to take her out.”
“I tried calling her first, but her phone went straight to voicemail,” Garcia interjected “please tell me she’s okay, you guys.”
As the others were talking, JJ turned and saw the detective that Shira had been with run back inside, blood trailing down his face.
“She’s gone!” he called out “Doctor Amell. He took her!”
“Oh God,” JJ muttered, turning to the rest of the team. The pale, shocked look on Hotch’s face was almost as terrifying “guys, if Kolbeck took her from in front of the station…”
“We need to find her, and fast,” Rossi declared “Garcia, tell me you sent us the address.”
“Already done,” Garcia replied “bring her home, you guys.”
◊
“When a real battle starts, you'll always find that there is no bravest man.”
-Jackson Crawford, The Poetic Edda
Searching My Dreams for a Lifetime; Chapter Two (Criminal Minds)
“Be sure you put your feet in the right place, then stand firm.”
-Abraham Lincoln
◊
“She did WHAT?” Rossi asked, surprise written all over his face.
“Wouldn’t have believed it if I didn’t see it myself,” Derek replied, folding his arms over his chest “just popped it right back in place like it was nothing.”
“Well it makes sense,” Reid declared, turning to see Shira talking to one of the detectives “people with EDS have problems keeping their joints in place all the time. Makes sense she’d know how to put them back where they need to be without medical help.”
“What was weirder was how much Hotch knew of her condition,” Emily added, voice quiet “rare enough that it doesn’t seem like something he’d need to know off-hand.”
“Maybe researching genetic conditions when Hayley was pregnant,” Rossi mused “and it stuck.”
“Well, no matter how you look at it, Hotch definitely gained her respect with showing he knew about it,” Derek said “starting to look more like you might be right, Rossi.”
~
Shira was tucked into her own corner of the conference room, where the team was set up to work. Sketching out the crime scene, with the sigils, and the distances, Shira couldn’t figure out what was going on. To the untrained eye, it seemed like a complex ritual layered with meaning. Yet to Shira, who had done her masters dissertation on ancient blood rituals with a focus on the Norse, she was just confused.
They didn’t mean anything. Not in context. Though the arrangement was definitely familiar.
Ehwaz, Othala, Ansuz, Gebo.
“Loyalty, home, communication, gift,” she muttered “nothing to do with…wait…”
She knew those positions anywhere. How hadn’t she seen it right away?
Getting up, she made her way to the white board, quickly mapping out the scene with the runes and positions.
“Make a connection there, doctor?” Rossi asked, watching her “what’s the meaning behind the symbols?”
“I still can’t figure out the one that’s directly ahead,” Shira replied “but the others I recognize. Looking at them by themselves, their meaning is totally unrelated, but together? It’s one of the interpretations of the runed Helm of Awe.”
“A Norse symbol that serves like a compass,” Reid added, looking at the board “not much is known about it.”
“In mythology, it’s also been known as a symbol of protection, for those who cause chaos,” Shira continued “in the Poetic Edda, the dragon Fafnir gave the Helm credit for his seemingly being invincible. 'The Helm of Awe I wore before the sons of men in defense of my treasure; amongst all, I alone was strong, I thought to myself, for I found no power a match for my own'.”
“So, he’s basing the staging off something that gives power to those who cause chaos,” Hotch mused “he’s declaring himself invincible to our efforts. Getting off on the torture and the lack of progress from the officials.”
“He likes watching the police squirm,” Shira muttered “hopefully you’ll find a pattern with the victims before the next abduction.”
“That’s something we needed to speak with you about,” Rossi declared, earning cautious attention from her “all the victims; they’re women in their early thirties, with dark brown hair and blue eyes.”
“You fit the victimology to the letter,” Hotch added “and with your involvement in the case, that makes you more of a prime target. Needless to say, if you’re leaving the station, it won’t be without one of us or a detective.”
“You’re telling me this like I didn’t make the connection already,” Shira told them, smiling to reassure, though the glint in her eyes was a bit cheeky “a woman sees six of her near-doppelgangers dead, she connects the dots.”
“This could also mean that you might be the intended target,” Hotch continued, watching her “if it comes to that, we’ll have to interview you, and ask you to step away from the case.”
“Then I best do as much as I can, shouldn’t I?” she countered “give you all the help I can. After all, he isn’t gonna wait. Though if my presence hasn’t been made public or obvious, then that might buy some time, or it might make him angry. Either way, he might slip up.”
Watching the two talk, Rossi was both impressed and amused. Shira didn’t seem at all fazed that she might be a target. More that it seemed like fuel for her work. With her knowledge of profiling, as well, she almost sounded just like Hotch when she was talking. A quiet authority that had people listening whenever she spoke.
“I’ll bet you’re a favorite among students,” Rossi declared, earning a pleasantly surprised smile from Shira “direct and personable. How quick do your classes fill up?”
“Don’t even make it to the end of the first day of enrollment,” she replied, straightening up in pride “most students love having a younger teacher, and I like to think that I’m quite good at what I do.”
Rossi smiled at that, catching a quick glance at Hotch as Shira spoke. The slight smile on the younger agent’s face was a surprise, gone just as quick as it was seen, but Rossi was certain he saw it.
Already Rossi knew one thing for sure, about those two; Hotch was doomed, in the best way.
~
It was late, and the team was taking a break for dinner before calling it a night. Still at the police station, in case a call came in, Chinese food and small talk were the order of the night, as a reprieve from the work throughout the day.
Most of the talk was directed at Shira, the team wanting to get to know their consultant better.
“One of the youngest professors at the University, huh?” Morgan huffed, smirking a bit “starting to give pretty-boy here a run for his money.”
“Ah, I couldn’t measure up to the famous Doctor Reid,” Shira laughed “not many people who could! I was lucky to be granted one PHD.”
“Those committees are vicious,” Reid agreed, laughing “makes staring down an unsub look like nothing, sometimes. Takes guts to stand in front of people and have them question everything about your work. Give yourself credit, Doctor Amell.”
Shira laughed at that, dipping her head a bit in thanks at the compliment.
“And how about your personal life?” Emily asked “any pets?”
“One, a dog, though I definitely want more,” Shira replied “his name’s Michael. He’s a retired MWD.”
“Adopted a military working dog?” Rossi mused “good on you. They’re loyal and incredibly smart. Malinois?”
“German Shepard,” she answered “poor thing’s still skittish sometimes, but it makes sense. Most loyal man in my life, being the only one.”
“No soul mate yet?” Morgan wondered, noticing Hotch starting to watch her more closely “someone as smart and pretty as you should have found him by now.”
“Been busy,” Shira replied “master’s thesis, doctoral dissertation, books, teaching, and guest lectures. I noticeably value and show my intelligence. Most men are intimidated by that, and even if they aren’t…”
She trailed off for a moment, sitting up and rolling her shoulder a bit, before it audibly popped. Her smile was sad as she looked to Morgan.
“Even if they aren’t,” she continued “who would want to be saddled with all this?”
She gestured to herself, her joints, and shrugged. Looking down as she continued eating, she missed the surprise on most everyone’s face, including Hotch.
How much had she been through?
~
It was early morning, and the team was preparing to leave the hotel and go back to the station. Wanting to get in some quiet time to eat and think, Hotch made his way down to the dining room for some breakfast. Not many people were there, and he knew it wouldn’t be that way for long. Going to the coffee pots and water kettles, Hotch poured himself a mug, as someone came up beside him. Glancing over, he saw the person was in a sling, and was forced to do a double-take when he realized who it was.
“Doctor Amell?” Hotch felt his eyebrows go into his hairline, seeing her turn to him with a confused look “your arm?”
“It’s my shoulder, actually,” she replied, smiling sheepishly “won’t stay in easily, and it hurts. Afraid I won’t be doing any hiking today.”
“Hopefully it won’t come to that,” he mused “I imagine it must hurt quite a bit.”
“Nothing more than I’m used to,” she promised, reaching with her left hand for a mug “though it sucks that it’s my right, being right-handed and all.”
Hotch watched as she grabbed the mug, reaching for a hot kettle as she picked out a tea bag. When she had the package open, and bag in the mug, he went and filled her mug for her.
“Oh, thank you,” Shira declared, smiling, as he finished “my arm definitely couldn’t support that for long.”
“Least I can do,” he replied “we should eat while we can, before the rest of the team wakes up.”
The way he said ‘rest of the team’ was something she definitely noticed, yet she didn't get her hopes up. Clearly, he was referring to his relationship with the team, and not her.
“Are you always up before the rest of them?” She asked “burden of leadership, I imagine, getting ahead of everyone so you can stay on top of your game.”
“Doesn't help that I don't sleep much,” Hotch replied, taking her mug as they went to a table “hard to sleep in new places.”
“Yet you're used to it, from how you're handling this,” she mused, smiling “not all professional experience, I think. Kids?”
“Pity you weren't able to join the Bureau,” he declared, amused “just one. My son, Jack.”
“You fight for justice and come home to your son,” Shira grinned, sitting and taking her mug with a grateful nod “a family man. Regular Captain America.”
“Just a man raising his son on his own, trying to make the world safer for him,” Hotch countered, sitting across from her “hardly have time for much superhero work.”
“Says the one who's basically a superhero,” she teased, smile widening as she saw him smile “your son has a wonderful role model to look up to, with you.”
“Thank you,” he replied, dipping his head slightly “it’s been tough, especially after his mother passed, but we have a good support network.”
“I’m sorry to hear she’s gone,” Shira declared, eyebrows knitting together as her heart went out to him “was she your…”
“No,” Hotch shook his head “but we both didn’t think our marks were the be all, end all. Love is love and can last a lifetime no matter what, or so we thought.”
“Nothing wrong with that,” she reassured him “I’m sure she’d be happy, when you do find the one.”
The silence wasn’t as tense as Shira expected, and she was surprised when Hotch straightened up and looked her in the eye.
“Doctor Amell,” he started “I wanted to apologize for my behavior back at Quantico, and on the plane. You’re here to help us, and I was disrespectful.”
“Believe it or not, I figured it might have been out of character for you,” she replied, smiling to try and comfort him “though I had chalked it up to how bad this case is. Besides, you came around eventually. In my mind, there’s nothing to forgive, but I know it helps to hear it, so I’ll say it; I forgive you, Agent Hotchner.”
Shira watched as his eyes softened, and a small smile came back to his face. A soft, vulnerable, almost happy glance that showed more than she was sure any of the team saw on a normal basis.
“And please,” she continued, smiling as a twinkle came to her eye “you can call me Shira. If you want to, that is.”
“And you can call me Hotch,” he replied, giving the smallest chuckle “the rest of the team does.”
“The way you keep saying that,” Shira mused, slightly hesitant “it’s a bit strange…”
“Because you feel like you’re not part of the team,” Hotch mused “that I’m just referring to their connection to me, but it’s entirely the opposite. It’s temporary and new, but you’re doing just as much work to solve this as we are. We brought you in. You’re just as much a part of the team.”
The way her heart fluttered made Shira blush, and she smiled for him.
“That’s sweet of you to say,” she replied “thank you, Hotch. We should probably eat something, before we head into the station. Don’t know about you, but a muffin of any kind sounds great.”
Hotch smiled, turning to look at the tray that he could see she’d been eyeing. Going over and grabbing two, he brought them back to their table. Shira smiled wider when she saw the flavor that he brought for her.
“Blueberry?” she asked, immediately taking the top off so she could enjoy it last.
“Fruit tends to go better with black tea, in my opinion,” he answered, watching her closely “balances it out.”
“Only someone who enjoys tea could come to that conclusion,” Shira laughed between bites, grinning “blueberry’s one of my favorites.”
~
When he came down for breakfast, Rossi was distracted by thinking on the case. Yet when he heard familiar voices engaged in conversation, he was jolted to clarity. Looking around, he saw Hotch and Shira tucked into a corner, deep in conversation. The smile on Hotch’s face brought one to Rossi’s, seeing the way that the two were relaxed around each other.
“Is that Hotch…smiling? And eating?”
Rossi turned to see Morgan and Reid behind him, both looking equally shocked.
“This whole case just got more interesting,” Rossi chuckled “but we’ve got work to focus on.”
As the rest of the team came down, and everyone was able to eat something, they were getting ready to head in before Hotch got a call. Watching as he took it, expression falling, they knew it was bad news.
“Unsub’s taken another woman,” he told them “let’s get going. We have work to do.”
◊
“A heart worth loving is one you understand, even in silence.”
– Shannon L. Alder
Searching My Dreams for a Lifetime; Chapter One (Criminal Minds)
“A soul mate is… someone whose way of viewing life is not necessarily the same as yours but complements yours… there is not a compromise, there is a complement.”
–Paul Robear
◊
Another day, another case, and this one seemed to be particularly bad. JJ had dropped the file in Hotch’s office, and when he took one look at the pictures of the victims, he knew they needed help. Before she could leave, he had her calling the list of people he knew could consult on the case. Given the late hour, they’d brief the team in the morning, and be able to get where they needed to go before the end of the day.
Something about the case had Hotch thinking that it was going to be different from the rest, but he could only wait until morning before they knew anything.
Morning came, and he was again one of the first people in the office. JJ had beat him there and was setting up at the round table for the briefing.
“I put in the call, and our consultant should be here not too long after the rest of the team,” she told her boss by way of greeting “I think she’ll need to come with us on this one.”
“I agree,” Hotch nodded “who on the list was available?”
“First one I called,” she replied “Dr. Amell from the University of Virginia. She’s the best in the country, in this field, and she readily agreed to help us. It’s between semesters, anyway, so she didn’t have any scheduling conflicts.”
“Good,” he took a look at the file again “here’s hoping she can help.”
The name, title, and mention of a teaching position, as well as her reputation, it invoked the mental image of an older woman. Someone who would be seasoned enough to handle the gruesome nature of the murders. Thankfully there was a decent enough amount of time between kills that they could examine each crime scene without worrying about another body dropping just yet.
As the rest of the team was filing in, Hotch prepared for their reactions to what they were going to see. They dealt with gruesome deaths all the time, but this one was definitely on the list of some of the worst they’d see.
“The police in Grand Rapids, Minnesota need our help,” JJ started “over the last three months, six victims have been found, all dumped in the surrounding state forests.”
“Due to the nature of how they were found and what the M.E. determined to be their cause of death, we’ve had to call in a little extra help with this case.” Hotch told them, seeing the team grow confused “I should warn you, this is pretty gruesome, even for us.”
With that, the images of their latest victim appeared on the screen.
“Oh my god,” Emily gasped, and the expressions of each other member of the team matched her sentiment “what the hell happened?”
“Something highly ritualized,” a new voice rang out from the doorway “and incredibly specific. Whoever did this believed she did something to deserve it.”
Everyone turned to see a young woman, early thirties, standing in the doorway with a bag in one hand and cane in the other. Dark brown hair and light blue eyes hidden behind glasses, the visitors badge showed she wasn’t from the Bureau.
“Dr. Amell, thank you for coming so soon,” JJ walked over to greet the woman, shaking her hand before turning to make introductions “Everyone, this is Doctor Shira Amell, the country’s top expert on occult history and symbols.”
“This M.O. is something you recognize, Doctor?” Rossi asked, watching as she studied the screen intently, cane tapping as she walked closer.
“Would recognize it instantly,” she nodded, turning to JJ and the rest of the team “is there an image of the victim from straight above?”
“What is it?” Emily wondered as JJ found the right picture.
“This is an old method of execution from Norway,” Shira explained “from the time of the Vikings. It’s called the ‘blood eagle’, and you can see why here.” With the image up on screen, the entire team could see that it looked as though the victim had sprouted wings.
“How is this done?” Reid asked.
“They would restrain the victim, face down, and carve the shape of an eagle with its wings extended into their back.” Shira explained as best she could “Then, they’d hack the ribs until they detached from the spine. The ribs would be pulled out to create the illusion of protruding wings. While still alive and in agony, the victim’s lungs would be pulled from the gaping hole and set over their ‘wings.’ This would cause their wings to ‘flutter’ as they took their final breaths and died.”
“This is done while the victim is still alive?” Derek’s face was schooled in mostly neutrality, but the shock of the moment was still evident in his eyes “what makes you think the unsub thinks their victims deserved this?”
“It’s a form of execution, a sacrifice to the god Odin,” Shira explained “while they might be bastardizing it for their own means, execution is execution. These women have to either be doing something that your unsub sees as unforgivable and worthy of the death penalty, or they represent someone who the unsub thinks deserves punishment.”
“You know something of profiling.” Rossi mused.
“It was once my goal to join the FBI,” Shira replied, a small smile tugging at her lips “and as a historian, profiling is a tool we also use to figure out motivations for things we find at dig sites and in texts we find.”
“We’ll go over victimology on the plane,” Hotch declared, speaking up for the first time since Shira entered the room “Doctor Amell will be coming with us, to see evidence at the crime scene and help in any way she can. Wheels up in thirty.”
Shira watched as the rest of the team stood and gathered their things, going out the door. Clearly ‘wheels up in thirty’ was the sign they were done briefing. Agent Hotchner was the first to leave, but he stopped not too far from her.
“You can ride with Agents Prentiss and Morgan, Doctor,” he told her “we’ll see you on the plane.”
Just like that, he left, leaving Shira and some of the other agents looking surprised.
“Well, that was interesting,” Rossi mused, before going over to the young woman and offering his hand to her “thank you for agreeing to help us, Doctor. We could use it.”
“Glad to help,” she replied, shaking the older agent’s hand “just…quick question before we get started; is Agent Hotchner always so purposefully distant?”
“It’s just how he gets when it’s such a violent case,” Rossi promised “don’t let it get to you. Once we get on the ground and get to work, it’ll get easier.”
She nodded, concerned, but deciding to go along with it.
~
The entire ride to the airport, Hotch played over and over in his head what had happened, analyzing it from all angles. Why had seeing her set something off in him?
The instant that Shira Amell had walked into the conference room, something went….’ping’, in him. A small part of him waking up, recognizing her, even though he knew he’d never seen her before. It was like the tales he’d once heard, about what it was like to see your soulmate for the first time, even when you didn’t know it was them.
Hayley hadn’t been gone that long, only a year, and he was working a case that was extremely violent. He had no time for this.
So why was it that every time he was looking at Shira, he felt like he was home?
~
The flight was only two and a half hours, but there was a lot to go through in that time. Shira stayed tucked away, in her corner, going over every bit of evidence that they had that she could look at. She was still a civilian, after all.
Which was why she was surprised when Agent Rossi, he insisted she call him David, called over to her.
“Doctor Amell,” he spoke up “in your professional opinion, what sort of person would use this method to kill someone?”
Looking up and seeing all the agents staring at her, Shira stood and walked over, settling in the seat next to Hotch.
“Well, I’m not as versed in profiling as you all,” she started “but from what I know of what I was seeing, whoever this is? He’s angry, and has been for a long time. It takes a lot of strength to be able to do something like this and rage to want the victim to suffer so much, but also a clear head and planning in order to abduct his victims and do something so complicated.”
Whatever Shira had said, she could see it had made sense to them.
“Who would have access to information about it?” Derek asked.
“Anyone with an internet connection, really,” Shira replied, shrugging “but it really isn’t something you just stumble across by accident. You’d have to be looking for something involving Norse rituals or sacrifices.”
“Makes sense, given that Minnesota has one of the larger populations of Norwegian-Americans in the country.” Reid declared.
“It’s one of the reasons the Minnesota NFL team is called the Vikings,” she agreed “it’s a major part of life in the state, that heritage. So, your unsub is likely someone intensely dedicated to researching it.”
“Doesn’t exactly narrow down the pool of suspects.” Emily mused.
“It’s still a start,” Hotch declared, still looking at his papers before looking up at his team “Dave, you take Reid and JJ to the station, I’ll go with Morgan and Prentiss to the latest crime scene.”
There was silence for a moment as Shira looked to the other members of the team, missing the ‘look’ that Rossi gave Derek before subtly nodding at Hotch.
“Doctor Amell, you should join us,” Derek spoke up, earning her and Hotch’s attention “if there’s something there that’s significant to the ritual, you’d spot it before we could.”
“Or anything else specific to Viking rituals,” Emily added “you’d said earlier there was a possibility the unsub was using the blood eagle method for his own uses and not because of the historical significance, so any other things he might have cherry-picked might say something about him.”
“It’d do some good to see the site first-hand,” Shira nodded “something’s bothering me about the runes that I can’t quite put my finger on, so seeing it in person might help figure it out.”
With the plan in place, everyone settled back into what they were doing, so they could hit the ground running once they landed. In order to concentrate, taking a cue from Derek, Shira popped in her own headphones and turned on music.
~
With half an hour left in the flight, Rossi decided it was as good a time as any to try and see what the hell Hotch’s problem was. Now, the older FBI agent wasn’t a blind man, he knew that Doctor Amell was a lovely young woman, but there was more to it than that, as far as Hotch and his attitude was concerned.
“Okay, kid, be honest with me here,” Rossi quietly demanded, straight out of the gate and safely on the other side of the plane from the woman in question “what the hell’s going on?”
“What are you talking about?” Hotch replied, quirking an eyebrow as he looked at his friend and coworker.
“How you’re treating Doctor Amell,” the other man explained “like a damn teenager ignoring his crush or something. She IS here to help us, you know.”
“I know that,” the younger agent snapped, immediately slightly glaring “I’m trying to keep things professional on a very violent case.”
“And that involves not talking to her?” Rossi questioned, quirking an eyebrow before his tone softened “kid, what’s going on with you?”
“I have no idea,” Hotch sighed, glancing over Rossi’s shoulder to where Shira was sitting, absorbed in music and the photos from each crime scene “I saw her come in and just….”
“Okay, just try treating her like the lead detective on a case,” Rossi offered “or a new agent. Somewhat distant, but still in a way that she knows you don’t hate her?”
Hotch didn’t say anything in reply, and Rossi wondered whether or not….no, did it actually happen? Had Hotch finally found his soul-mate in the young historian? It would explain everything. He’d have to observe and see how Hotch and Shira interacted, see what the chemistry between them was like.
The rest of the team saw it, too, so maybe a betting pool to keep their minds off how bad the case was would come up. He’d have to suggest it.
Though if Hotch found out about it, he’d kick all of their asses.
~
The ride to the latest crime scene was, to say the least, one of the more awkward ones that Emily and Derek had been on. With Doctor Amell in the front with Hotch, both of them in the back, both Derek and Emily could feel the slight tension. They had a while before they’d reach the state park, and had agreed that the tension couldn’t last that long.
“So, what got you interested in studying history, Doctor?” Emily asked, to break the silence “hell of a career you’ve made for yourself with it.”
“I was a pretty active kid until my late teens,” Shira replied, looking in the rearview mirror to watch Emily “that’s when my hip, sight, and hypermobility problems started in earnest, and I knew I needed to change my career plans. History was always my best subject in school, so my teacher helped me plan out my studies, and how to pick a focus.”
“No small feat, to get your doctorate before your thirties,” Derek declared, smiling at Shira’s grateful smile “lot of late nights?”
“I think I’m still not caught up after all the all-nighters,” Shira laughed “it helps that I had a great mentor during my doctorate work. Going to digs wasn’t easy, but that just provided more motivation. I wasn’t going to let myself fall into the rut of thinking I couldn’t do anything an able-bodied person could.”
“Did your doctors find the cause of your health problems?” Hotch asked, surprising Emily and Derek. Shira turned and gave Hotch a look of surprise, yet not in a negative fashion.
“Not until I was in grad school, sadly,” she answered “I have EDS, Ehlers Danlos Syndrome. Brittle Cornea Syndrome subset.”
“Genetic disorder affecting your joints and, with BCS, your sight,” he mused, giving her a glance “pretty rare. Explains why it took so long.”
“Had to run quite a few tests,” Shira nodded “first in my family.”
“No hypotonia reactions?” Hotch questioned, just to be sure.
“Thankfully not unless I push myself too far,” she replied “which I’ve learned how to avoid.”
“Hypotonia?” Emily asked, finally finding her voice and a moment to butt in.
“Muscle weakness,” Shira explained “it means I lack muscle tone. I can’t do much exercise or exertion of any kind for long periods of time. Though I can go for a good while, walking or standing, now that I know how to operate within my limits.”
“That’s damn impressive,” Derek added, surprise finally leaving his face “We’re lucky to have you.”
“I’m just glad to help.” Shira replied, turning and giving him a small smile, before looking out to the road ahead.
When silence fell on the car again, Emily and Derek looked at each other in wordless amazement. That conversation was the most that Hotch had spoken to Shira in the entire time she had been with them. Maybe there was something to what Rossi had told them, after all.
There wasn’t time to dwell on it, though, as they found themselves at the state park soon enough. The dump site wasn’t too far from the entrance, but it was enough of a hike. As they all got out, Derek lingered behind to make sure that Shira was steady on her feet.
“You gonna be alright with the hike?” he asked, earning an amused and exasperated glance.
“I’ll be fine,” she replied, smiling “it’s not that far. I’ve walked further on campus getting from my office to my car. Thank you for the concern, though, Agent Morgan. It’s sweet of you.”
Throwing her hair up in a quick half-bun for the hike and work ahead, she gave Derek another smile before walking over to join Hotch, and be introduced to the local PD.
“There’s definitely something between them,” Emily mused quietly, walking up to stand next to Derek “can tell by their body language.”
“She definitely became more comfortable around him when Hotch showed he knew about her condition,” Derek agreed, seeing just how close their boss was standing next to Shira “must be rare to find anyone who knows about it outside the medical community.”
“Yet another tick in the ‘Rossi might be right’ box.” Emily teased, before they joined Hotch and Shira, and all started the hike to the dump site. It was short, compared to most others, and Emily and Derek hung back as Hotch spoke to the detective. Mainly listening, they also watched Hotch and Shira work together. As Hotch spoke, Shira walking beside him, they could see Hotch seem to hover closer to her, though resisting the urge to touch. Maybe he was resisting the urge to help her, with the revelation of her chronic illness. Maybe it was something else.
As they arrived on scene, everyone split up to do their respective jobs, with Shira staying close to a detective. As the agents did their own work, she walked the perimeter, observing each tree that sigils had been painted onto. Having been given permission to take photos with a police camera, Shira became absorbed in her own investigation. Looking at the way the sigils were painted, trying to find how the strokes were done. she focused on everything as though she was looking at a dig site.
“Look at spacing, details,” she muttered, side-stepping officers and evidence markers, making sure to note the distance between the center and each tree “nothing’s too small…”
Looking closely at one of the sigils, Shira noticed something that seemed off. On closer examination, she could see that the tree itself was carved with the same shape before being painted over. Taking close-up shots immediately, her brain going through the different reasons it could happen, she turned while looking down at the camera. Looking up at the sound of footsteps, she narrowly avoided collision with an evidence technician.
Twist, pivot, and the familiar sensation of a joint out of socket.
She nearly went down, wincing in pain, before the technician caught her.
~
The sound of a cane clattering on stone had Hotch whipping around. Seeing Shira in the hands of a technician, wincing in pain, he was over like a shot. Knowing what he did about her condition, he could only assume one of her joints started to act up.
“Doctor Amell?” He asked, tone showing his concern as he took over offering her support.
“Just get me somewhere where I’m sitting, please,” she muttered, one hand clutching the camera tight as the other went to her hip “I can take care of this.”
A bit doubtful, Hotch did as she asked anyway, bringing her over to a tree stump and helping her sit down. As Derek and Emily came over to check on the situation, Shira was quick to adjust herself, hands coming to her thigh and hip as she got a hold of them.
“Next part isn’t for the easily squeamish,” she warned, offering a wry smile as she stared at an unseen horizon point “though I know you guys aren’t, with what you see every day.”
Derek was about to ask what she meant when, with a swift motion and grunt of pain, she put her femur joint back into her hip socket.
“Okay, what the hell?” Derek muttered, watching Shira put her head between her knees and take some deep breaths “how often do you have to do that?”
“Depends on the day,” she replied, relaxing a bit more as she felt a comforting hand on her back “or what happens. I’ll be okay. Got enough while walking around that I can sit and try to organize my thoughts.”
Looking up, she saw that Hotch had been the one to put his hand on her back, and she offered him a small smile.
“My hero,” she muttered after Derek and Emily had turned away “thanks for your help.”
“Wasn’t about to let you hop over by yourself, though I’m sure you could have,” he replied, giving a small, wry smile “take your time. We’ll be here for a while.”
Shira nodded, watching Hotch stand as he walked back over to where he had been. She thanked the technician who brought her cane over, before starting to look through the camera.
From a distance, Hotch watched her, marveling at the strength of the woman helping them. Smart, unfazed by violence, high tolerance for pain, and somehow able to get under his skin with even the smallest moments and words. Shira Amell was an awe-inspiring woman all her own, and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t intimidated, and impressed.
There was the case to focus on, but he knew he’d keep getting distracted, so he came to a decision.
Stand by Shira, work with her, get to know her. With this case, she was the key to helping solve it. Yet she matched the victimology almost to the letter.
She needed to be protected.
◊
“I feel like a part of my soul has loved you since the beginning of everything. Maybe we’re from the same star.”
– Emery Allen
Searching My Dreams for a Lifetime; Prologue (Criminal Minds)
“A soul mate is not found. A soul mate is recognized.”
–Vironika Tugaleva
◊
A dragon, red and black, wings spanning his shoulders. There was even a shadow cast by the creature. It was a mark that would make even the most talented of tattoo artists envious. Every day in the mirror, he saw the mark that identified his soul mate, spanning half of his back. That creature had dictated his tastes ever since he was old enough to know what a dragon was, hoping that the knowledge would lead him to his soul mate.
Maybe he would find her, maybe he wouldn’t. With his age and job, he doubted that he would be seen as good enough for whomever the strong and graceful creature on his back represented.
~
It was true to size, and on her right hip. A shield, with the words ‘Fidelity, Bravery, Integrity’ written on a banner underneath it, and the Department of Justice emblem on it. The numbers on the shield itself, unlike any FBI badge she’d seen, were clearly indicative of the fact that-whomever it represented-they were once a police officer before joining the FBI.
Whoever they were, they were clearly a strong person. Yet would they see the strength in her and find she was good enough for them?
◊
“ In all the world, there is no heart for me like yours. In all the world, there is no love for you like mine.”
Born with superhuman abilities, Sara Schon dedicates her life to helping the needy of the LGBTQ+ community, and loves her work. Yet she’s always felt like she was meant for something more. Everything changes after she sees the battle for New York, and a year later she’s moved to live and work there. Life has settled into routine, until the moment two men ask for her help. Who knew the Avengers knew of her already?
(A/N: Takes place in one of the numerous alternate timelines spawned from the time travel in End Game. IDC what the Russos say; we have the MULTIVERSE)
~
The Lavender Star Project
“Otherwise known as TLSP, this up-and-coming non-profit organization puts support first. From partnering with shelters to help displaced LGBT+ youth, to providing meeting places for multiple LGBT+ support groups, to volunteering and organizing care for the Community’s elderly, TLSP is a shining example of how it doesn’t matter who you are; in the LGBT+ community, you have support and a family to rely on.”
-Windy City Times
To see her project, her baby, featured in Chicago’s LGBT newspaper had made Sara Schon happier than she ever thought possible. What had started as a website for her photography and activism after her graduation had quickly gained traction and become an integral part of both the Boy’s Town neighborhood and Chicago as a whole. Being the founder, face, and CEO behind an organization serving a city of two and a half million people was far from easy, but she had a…leg up, as it were.
Though they didn’t develop until her teenage years, Sara was born with two specific abilities; the gifts of psychometry and energy manipulation. While it was hard being able to know everything about a person or object in a single touch, thankfully it had to be full contact through the hand, so fingerless gloves were her security measure.
Sara didn’t abuse her ability for the sake of The Lavender Star Project, per say, but she wasn’t shy about using it when she had to.
As she made her way back into TLSP headquarters, she saw that everyone was glued to the TV in the back, and more than a few people were crying.
“What’s going on?” she asked, immediately running over. What greeted her on-screen was something she couldn’t quite believe.
New York was under attack. By Aliens. There were people on the ground, fighting back, but the soldiers and police weren’t who had her attention.
Six people. Six miraculously strong and skilled people. Heroes.
Sara wasn’t one for prayer, but as helicopter footage showed Tony Stark take a tactical missile through the wormhole, the thirty-two-year-old prayed for him. A strong person who went through hell and against all expectations worked to better the world? Of course she looked up to him.
A sob of relief escaped as she saw him come back through. The threat was eliminated. New York, and the world, was safe.
~
May 4th, 2012 was the day that Sara’s life changed. Seeing people with ability using those abilities to save the world? It had sparked something inside her. She had powers, strong ones she’d honed over twenty years of practice. Why couldn’t she be one of those people?
She always felt the need to help people, that’s why she started The Lavender Star Project in the first place, but this was different. That day, she decided to go through with her plans for expanding TLSP, and knew their next location needed to be in New York. After all, the West Village was where the movement started.
She had her own reasons for moving, of course, but she didn’t mention them to the Chicago crew.
That was a year ago, and to say that things were going well would be an understatement. She was able to open and hire a crew in only a few months. Probably would have been a shorter amount of time if Sara hadn’t insisted on opening in Hell’s Kitchen, but she loved a challenge.
Yet still, they were up and running, and already further along than expected. They played host to multiple support groups, worked outreach in multiple boroughs, and worked with the Ali Forney Center to help LGBT+ homeless youth.
In between all this, Sara somehow found time to do her own work with her psychometry power. Small things, so she wouldn’t pop up on SHIELD radar too soon, but enough that people in the know knew they could come to her.
It was another early morning in the offices, with the doors barely open an hour. Everything was quiet, which was what made Sara so curious when the door opened. No one was supposed to be in to work for another hour.
Looking up from her desk near the front, she saw two men; almost the same height, the African American gentleman was a bit taller and younger. Tight haircut and goatee, he absolutely had the posture of a veteran.
The blond next to him was a bit older, with spikey hair and a clean face. Not a veteran, but certainly highly trained, if his posture was anything to go by. Police officer, maybe?
Both were standing with purpose. Over the years, even without her ability, Sara was good at reading people. These men, they wanted something.
“Welcome to The Lavender Star Project,” she greeted them, making sure her fingerless gloves were on as she walked over to them “I’m Sara Schon, founder and CEO.”
“Sam Wilson,” the younger man introduced himself, immediately shaking her hand before nodding to his friend “this is my coworker Clint.”
“Clint Barton,” the blond elaborated, almost amused as he also shook Sara’s hand “pleasure to meet you, Miss Schon.”
“You as well, Mr. Barton, Mr. Wilson,” Sara replied, smiling for both men before turning to Sam “or should I be asking for a rank? What branch did you serve in?”
The surprise on Sam’s face had her smiling wider as Clint laughed.
“How could you tell?” Clint asked.
“Well, outside of knowing many veterans, because we host multiple support groups for LGBT+ veterans here and in our flagship space in Chicago,” she explained, smile turning cheeky “my mother served in the army, Military Police.”
Sam gave a low whistle at that, causing Sara to laugh.
“Retired air force, pararescue,” he explained “rank has got nothing to do with the life now, though.”
“Fair enough,” Sara nodded “so, I know two men on a mission when I see them. What brings you in today?”
She caught the look between Clint and Sam; a mix of surprise and concern.
“We need your help.” Sam told her.
“Is there somewhere more private, where we can talk?” Clint asked, frown causing Sara some concern.
“No one is scheduled to come in for another hour,” she promised “but I’ll flip the ‘open’ sign and we can go into the conference room in the back.”
At their nods, Sara did just that. After closing the conference room door, she turned to both men.
“Okay, tell me what’s going on.” she politely demanded, crossing her arms as she stood before them. This was her place; she was in charge.
“Clint and I are members of the Avengers,” Sam started “and there’s someone on the team that needs your particular skills.”
“He won’t talk to anyone,” Clint continued “barely talks to Steve. We just want to help him start to recover.”
“And you want me to figure out exactly what this unnamed teammate went through, to help you start to help him?” Sara asked, to make sure she understood “and the rest of the team is okay with this?”
“To a degree,” Clint nodded “Sam vouches for you, Steve trusts him, and the others trust Steve’s judgment.”
Sara nodded along, trying to wrap her head around it all. Two avengers were sitting in her conference room, asking for her help. It was enough to make anyone’s head spin.
“Right, I can leave with you in an hour,” she told them “but between now and then, I need to be filled in as much as I can about this person. I’m not just barging in and approaching this in a way that ruins all chances of them letting me help.”
Sara ignored the warmth in her chest when she saw the approval in Clint’s eyes, and for the next hour squeezed as much information out of the two men as she could.
By the time the first shift came in, Sara pretty much had a plan.
James Buchanan ‘Bucky’ Barnes, Howling Commando, The Winter Soldier. He was the person she was helping. Despite the vague answers she got, understandable given how little they really knew, Sara knew she needed to be careful. Not that she thought Barnes would hurt her; she didn’t want to hurt him.
It was easy enough to duck out of the office for the day, telling the others a small not-lie about a last-minute meeting with potential donors on Park Avenue.
Things were quiet, for the most part, as they made their way to the tower. Sam and Clint interjected some witty banter from time to time, mostly bird-themed, to keep the mood light, which Sara greatly appreciated.
Reasons for going to the tower aside, she was about to meet her heroes! It was enough to make anyone’s heart flutter.
“Once we’re inside, the others are gonna want to meet you before you help Bucky,” Clint warned her as they finally approached the tower doors “Steve’s the most protective of him, but Stark will probably do most of the talking.”
“When doesn’t he?” Sam scoffed, earning a frown from Sara.
“I’ll be able to handle it,” she promised Clint “once I get it into my mind to do something, I don’t let anything, or anyone, stop me without a fight.”
Both men seemed satisfied with her answer, and when they were at the door, Clint smiled and gestured for her to go first.
“Sara Schon, welcome to the Avengers Tower.” He told her, letting her open the door.
To say Sara’s breath was taken away would be an understatement. Stark Tower, now the Avengers Tower, was a marvel of modern design and technology. As someone who grew up without a lot, it impressed her for so many reasons.
Once past security, they took the private elevator up to the residential floors. Sara’s hands quietly tapped her legs from the pockets of her coat. Of course, she was nervous. Who wouldn’t be?
“They’re not gonna bite,” Sam reassured her “well, not in this case. Can’t speak for what Cap and the others do on their off time.”
Clint’s groan of disgust at the insinuation made Sara laugh, shoulders easing from the stress a bit.
“Thanks, Sam, I needed that.” She told him, smiling, when the elevator doors opened. The three stepped out into what looked like a mix of lobby, bar, and living room. Taking a quick look around, Sara noted there were five people waiting. Yet none of them looked like what she knew Bucky looked like.
That’s when she saw him on the far side of the room, back in a corner as he seemed to be watching everything and everyone at once. His eyes connected with hers, and Sara could see his emotionless expression change ever so slightly to a confused one.
She had to tear her eyes away as two more men approached. Now these two she’d have recognized in a heartbeat. Tony Stark and Steve Rogers.
“Miss Schon,” Tony greeted her, holding out a hand to shake hers “thank you for agreeing to help.”
“I’ll admit I was concerned at first,” she replied, stepping a bit closer as she shook his hand “but I don’t let much of anything stop me from doing the right thing.”
Not even the tingle she felt when her hand touched Tony’s, reluctantly breaking the contact not too long after.
“Are you sure you can help him?” Steve asked, and Sara did her best not to shift under his scrutinizing gaze.
“I’m only really sure about two things,” she told the group in front of her, eyes straying to Bucky again “one, that I’m going to try the best I can, and two, that we really shouldn’t be talking about him like he’s not here. After all, you can hear us loud and clear, can’t you?”
With her last statement obviously not directed at them, Tony and Steve turned to see Bucky give her a nod. With an impressed smile on his face, Tony turned back to Sara.
“We’ll be sure to give you space,” he promised “but I doubt anyone’s gonna be leaving the room.”
“Space is all I ask for,” she replied, putting a hand each on both Steve and Tony’s arms “now if you’ll excuse me.”
With a reassuring squeeze for both men, Sara made her way across the room alone, stopping once she was close enough to talk quietly to Bucky while still not crowding him.
“Hello,” she greeted him “mind if I sit? Bit of a long walk here from Hell’s Kitchen.”
It took a minute, but Sara was patient, and once he nodded, she took a seat facing him. Her back was to the rest of the room, so the others couldn’t try and figure out what she was saying.
They were quiet for a few moments, before she spoke up again.
“My name’s Sara,” she introduced herself “what should I call you? I know what they said your name is, but what would make you comfortable?”
She watched, hands in front of her, as the former assassin seemed to process what she said. It was the same approach she’d taken in the past with trans kids she’d helped. Give them the choice and reinforce their autonomy.
“Bucky,” he finally said after a few moments “that much I do remember.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Bucky,” Sara told him, smiling “that’s a good group you’ve got down there, wanting to help you. That’s why I’m here.”
“Help me?” he repeated “why would you help me?”
“You’re someone who needs help,” she shrugged “they told me you’re having trouble remembering things and telling the difference between what’s real and what memories might have been planted. I was born with an ability that can help with that.”
“Ability?” Bucky questioned, and the unasked ‘what kind of ability’ was easy to hear.
“I was born with a psychic ability called ‘psychometry’,” Sara explained, holding her gloved hand up for him to see “in this case, I was asked here specifically for the ‘biographic aptitude’ part of my ability. That means I can know everything there is to know about a person in a single, full hand contact, touch. Memories, emotions, all of it, seeing and feeling it as though they’re my own memories and emotions. Thing is, though, that I wouldn’t see anything that might have been planted. Only real things that a person has seen or been through.”
She could see his hesitance and understood it completely.
“What if I don’t want you picking through my brain?”
“Then I won’t do anything.”
“Why?”
“Because the little they told me?” she gestured over her shoulder to the rest of the team, who were sitting around doing their own things trying not to look like they were keeping watch “I know enough to know you haven’t had a single choice of your own in, what, seventy years?
“That’s why, if I do this, it’ll only be because you asked me to,” She continued, holding her right hand out, palm up, between them “and it will be you initiating contact. You remove the glove. You put your hand in mine. Your choices, the entire time.”
She wasn’t surprised when he sat back, studying her in detail. Even before the fall, he was a soldier. A sniper, if she remembered her history lessons correctly. He knew how to read a person.
“Why agree to this?” he asked.
“The million-dollar question,” Sara replied, sitting back as well, hand still between them “I’ve been the type of person that helps people all my life. That’s why I started a now successful non-profit that helps people in the queer community. This gift of mine has also helped people. After the battle of New York, which all those crazy heroes behind me were involved in, I knew I wanted to do more. Thanks to them, I know that I was born with my powers for a reason. I finally know what I have to do, and I know in my heart that it’s right.”
The silence was a little on the side of uncomfortable, lasting a good few minutes before she could see any sort of vulnerability or change in Bucky.
“I don’t know you, but I know you shouldn’t be seeing what’s inside my head,” he told her “it’s too dark for anyone. You shouldn’t go through seeing what I went through.”
“I also shouldn’t deal with five death threats a day,” Sara countered “I shouldn’t have to put myself physically between kids in the community and parents that would hurt or kill them. I shouldn’t have such a shitty non-existent relationship with my father. That’s my reality, though, and the reality is I’m not alone with those experiences. I know people I can talk with and relate to about those things. If you choose this, you’ll have the same thing; someone to talk to, to relate to. I won’t go through what you did the same way you did, but I’ll see and feel what you saw and felt. That’s the closest I could get to going through the same thing.”
“And you’re willing to put yourself through that for someone you don’t even know.” It was more statement than question.
“If it means helping one of my heroes, then yes,” she nodded “James Buchanan Barnes was a historical figure I looked up to. Someone who did what was right and stood by his friends and comrades no matter what he faced. You’re not that man anymore, how could you be with the passage of time? But you were him, and I know I want to help you remember him.”
Was it normal to leave one of the world’s most highly trained assassins stunned and speechless?
“The way you’re talking is almost too good to be true.” Bucky muttered, and she understood. She almost sounded too perfect.
“I, honest to God, don’t know where these words are coming from,” Sara admitted “I’m just trusting my heart. I’ve always been highly empathetic, even before my powers developed, and this is no different.”
“Trusting your heart….” He repeated, looking down at her hand, still outstretched between them.
“I should tell you,” she spoke up, voice quiet “if you decide you want to do this and want me to see memories going back all the way, I need to hold your right hand. The left one hasn’t been with you that long. As for when I see your memories…I’ve never worked with someone who’s lived as long a life as you have, so I have no idea how I’ll react outwardly. Hopefully no different, but I can’t guarantee anything.”
“Will it hurt you?” Bucky asked, and his concern touched her.
“I honestly don’t know, but I know it’s something I’m willing to put up with,” she admitted “but if you want a third party here, to be able to do something if something goes wrong, then I wouldn’t discourage it. I’ll likely have your hand in a vice-grip, that’s normal for this, so it wouldn’t be a bad idea. Is there someone you would choose?”
Sara watched his eyes flicker over her shoulder to the rest of the group, watching them all for a moment.
“Steve,” he declared “he’s the strongest, and calmest, that I’ve seen.”
“He’s also the most protective of you,” she pointed out, smiling a bit “I think some memories are already coming back, yeah? At least, subconsciously.”
Was that a smile? The barest twitch upwards of the corner of his mouth, but she was sitting close enough to see the change.
“Historians managed to save a few pictures of him before the serum,” Sara continued, smile turning cheeky “scrawniest little punk you ever did see. His list of ailments from his enlistment forms is now public knowledge, too, since people like to talk about what the serum cured in him. He shouldn’t have even been leaving the house, let alone trying to join the army!”
“Punk never knew when to stop,” Bucky muttered, smile growing just a bit at the realization he was remembering a bit more “but he was the perfect person for that damn serum.”
“Can’t argue with you there,” she agreed, smile growing “he’s a good guy, the little I’ve seen.”
Bucky nodded, and shifted in his seat to sit up straighter. She noticed the change, and did the same, wondering what he was going to do.
“Call him over,” Bucky told her “…please.”
Smiling, she nodded, holding up a finger before turning in her seat to face the rest of the Avengers.
“Steve?” Sara called out, watching the blond get to his feet quickly “could you come up and join us, please?”
She could tell he was trying not to run as the Captain made his way up the steps and to where they were.
“We just need your help,” she explained, turning to face towards Bucky again, though her eyes were on Steve “I’ve never worked with someone who has lived as long a life as you or Bucky, so I don’t know if anything will happen that’s different from normal. Bucky trusts you enough to ask you be here in case something happens.”
“What normally happens?” Steve asked, cautiously sitting next to Sara as he and Bucky both watched her closely.
“My grip on a person will go from normal to almost a vice-grip,” she explained “I’ll go very still, but if something is strong enough in memory or emotion, you’ll see some sort of reaction on the outside. It normally is only a few minutes, but then again, I’m usually only working with anywhere from fourteen to thirty years of memory. Never anything longer than that. This is new.”
“Will it hurt you, that much information?” the blond asked.
“Bucky asked the same thing,” Sara declared, smiling “I really don’t know if it will or not, but it’s something I’m willing to put up with.”
“She said…” Bucky spoke up, hesitant for the first time as Steve’s eyes went to him “she’s doing this because the person I once was…was one of her heroes.”
“I know he’s not the same man as before,” Sara elaborated “how could he be, with how much time has passed? But I want to help him remember who he once was.”
With that, Bucky reached for her outstretched hand, unlatching the button of her glove with a gentleness that she sensed came from a fear of hurting her.
“His choice, the whole way,” she gently explained to Steve as the glove came off “I wasn’t going to force him to do anything he didn’t 100% want to do.”
Once the glove was off, she moved her hand up so that it would be easier for him to grab.
“Whenever you’re ready, Bucky.” Sara told the brunette in front of her, blue eyes trained on his own blue eyes “I’ll just be closing my eyes, when it starts, so I can see things better.”
Slowly, his fingers curled around her hand, so their palms were facing each other, and that’s when she closed her eyes. The instant his palm was fully in contact with hers, her grip increased as she’d said it would.
She went almost unnaturally still, as the memories started flowing through her mind. Steve and Bucky watched, Steve ready to jump into action, as she didn’t move except for a few moments of smiles or frowns. A small mutter at one point of ‘crazy ass punk’ had Steve smiling. That sounded like the Bucky he once knew.
Yet things changed just as quickly. Her face contorted in fear and pain as her left arm wrapped around her middle, shivering as though she’d gone freezing cold. The fear barely left her face, only rarely replaced with anger.
Sara cried out in pain, reaching up with her left hand to grab her head, almost falling out of her seat if Steve hadn’t caught her. He could hear the rest of the team scramble to their feet, knowing they’d want to put a stop to this now that they’d heard her in pain.
“Stay there.” Steve called out to them, feeling her shiver against him as the process continued still. Of course, as stubborn as Tony was, he wouldn’t listen completely. He made his way up the stairs to the walkway where they were sitting but didn’t come any closer.
After a full ten minutes, Sara’s eyes snapped open, tears streaming from them as she panted to catch her breath like she’d just run a marathon.
“Sara?” Steve whispered, Tony walking a bit closer as the two super-soldiers watched her closely. She still hadn’t let go of Bucky.
“I’m sorry,” she told Bucky “I’m so, so sorry…”
The pain, the anger, the fear. Not being able to control your own body while you watched people die at your own hands.
Her mind screamed not to, but every instinct pushed her forward to wrap her arms around Bucky in a hug. Her arms didn’t squeeze, but only held him, as she continually muttered how sorry she was.
No words could describe the sorrow she felt at what he’d been through. It broke her heart into a million pieces.
She knew how starved he was for gentle touch, but so scared at the same time. So when Bucky’s own arms came up and wrapped around her in return, face buried in her neck, she was the only person who wasn’t surprised.
“Well I’ll be damned,” Tony muttered, watching the scene unfold “she’s good.”
Good, kind, thoughtful, strong. All those words described Sara, in Tony’s mind. How the hell did someone like her even exist in this cruel world?
They all lost track of how long she held onto Bucky, but as soon as she let go of him, they could see a difference. It was as though a weight had been lifted.
“Now what?” Bucky asked, voice stronger than it had been before.
“I can come by and talk to you, a bit every day,” Sara suggested, putting her glove back on before wiping residual tears from her face “when you’re comfortable enough, you can come see me at work? I honestly need a bit of time to develop a plan…”
“We’ll help you,” Tony spoke up, earning everyone’s attention “I think it’s safe to say you’re now probably the only person Barnes trusts more than Steve, and one of the few we trust to help him through anything.”
“What if she moves in?” Clint offered from his seat in the lounge area “you’ve got the space, and she’d be close enough to help at any hours she’s not at her office.”
Tony would have protested, but he knew the feeling of helplessness when no one knew what you were going through. Regardless of what Steve or anyone else might have thought, he wasn’t a selfish person.
“I can’t ask you to let me do that,” Sara spoke up “either way I’d be commuting, and I don’t mind traveling here. I don’t want to intrude, when you guys are in the public eye enough as it is.”
“It’s settled,” Tony declared “we’ll help you get things settled with your landlord and packed at the apartment, and we can have you moved in here by the end of next week.”
“Really, you don’t have to go through the trouble-” she protested, before Clint cut her off.
“It’s no trouble.” He insisted.
“Sara Schon; welcome to the Avengers.” Tony declared, and he could see her eyes light up.
“Well, if that’s the case then,” she sighed, smiling a bit “I need to go back to TLSP, talk to the crew there, and start paperwork with my landlord. Breaking my lease shouldn’t be too expensive, but it’ll be worth it in the end.”
“Would love to talk to you about your organization sometime, once you’re settled,” Steve spoke up, standing with Sara to make sure she was steady on her feet “Sam says you do great work for the queer community.”
“I’d be glad to.” Sara smiled, gently patting Bucky on his shoulder before heading down the stairs towards the elevator. As she passed, Tony fell into step with her, ignoring the looks the others gave him.
“I’ll see you down,” he explained, pressing the button so they both could get in the elevator “get some details.”
Sara nodded, quiet as she stepped inside with him. Here was the hero that she had always looked up to, that inspired her entire move to New York, and they were alone in the elevator together.
She was definitely overthinking. She needed to pay attention.
After a quick exchange of information, phone numbers and emails and such, Sara put her hands in her pockets, nervously fidgeting. Too much energy, a normal problem after using her psychometry ability.
“What you did was pretty brave,” Tony declared, after a small silence “not a lot of people would put themselves through that, especially to help someone they don’t know.”
“I’ve been doing it for years,” she replied, turning to look the millionaire in the eye “comes from being a part of a marginalized community. I have the ability to help, and there are people that need it.”
“Which is part of why you started The Lavender Star Project,” he quipped, smirking a bit “but that doesn’t explain why you agreed to help Barnes.”
“No one deserves to suffer in silence,” Sara countered after a moment of silence “and I know that’s what I’m meant to help people do. I’m meant to help them understand they’re not alone, to help them find a community, a family.”
“That’s a big goal,” Tony mused, seeing his new acquaintance in a new light “when’d you realize that’s what you wanted to do?”
“Battle of New York,” she replied, seeing they were near the ground floor “watching all of you fight, especially near the end when you saved the city. Thanks to you guys, I know that I was born with my powers for a reason. I finally know what I have to do, and I know in my heart that it’s right.”
The door opened, as though to punctuate the end of her statement, and Sara smiled for Tony.
“I’ll be in touch,” she said as she bid farewell, stepping out “see you later, boss.”
Tony was too stunned to speak, nodding to show he heard her, before the door closed. His mind raced as he pressed the button to head back up. Her final statement…he’d said the exact same thing to Pepper. He’d been reeling from everything that had happened, from Afghanistan, making the armor had given him something to do to help people. Helping people had given him a purpose outside himself. He understood where Sara was coming from, finding the motivation to use what you were born with for something outside yourself.
Sara Schon was definitely something else, and he looked forward to getting to know her better.
Shari Neilson and James T. Kirk. They're two very different people, or so they thought. Both damaged by the past, the Enterprise is their hope for the future. Leaders in their own right, a chance meeting when she joins the crew leads them down a path neither one expected.
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Shari’s Birthday (a fun, M rated side story happening between parts five and six)
Shari’s past her due date, and she and Jim are nervous about the delivery. However, the newlyweds are confident that things will go well. Jim is determined to be there when the twins are born, but everyone knows what they say about life and plans that are made.
~
~
“I swear to all that is good, I feel like a blimp,” Shari groaned “just call me Goodyear.”
“You’re as beautiful as ever,” Jim reassured his wife, smiling as he kissed her cheek “though I get why you feel like that.”
The twins were taking their sweet time, it would seem. Shari was already a week past her due date. Unusual, according to Leonard, considering this was her first pregnancy. Shari had chalked it up to the paternal DNA of the kids.
“They’re as stubborn as their father,” she’d quipped, earning a chuckle from Leonard “won’t do anything until they’re good and ready.”
Jim couldn’t even argue that point.
“I hate not being able to go anywhere,” Shari grumbled, arms crossed as she sat on their couch “you know that.”
“I know,” he nodded, hand coming up to gently rest on her stomach “but bedrest is what’s best, Bones says. Less stress on your body. First pregnancy being twins is hard enough. He’s ordered a change in schedule so you can have company, though. Knows it’s important for your mental health.”
“And he says he’s not a psychologist,” she chuckled, gesturing for Jim to lean in so she could kiss his cheek “go, my love. Anything happens, you know you’re the first I’ll call.”
“I’ll be back for lunch,” he promised, making sure she was comfortable “try not to let yourself go too crazy.”
“You too,” Shari replied, squeezing her husband’s hand “I know your soul beast has been agitated.”
She was right. Jim’s wolf within had been pacing back and forth since Shari had reached the seven-month mark, and he’d been rather overprotective. When Jim had told Shari about it, she could only smile.
“And you wanted proof you’ll be a good dad,” she’d reassured him “it’s okay, my love. It’s only natural for you to be so worried about me and the cubs.”
Cubs. They’d been calling the babies that since they only knew of one of them. It made sense, with their soul beasts, and was a rather cute nickname.
“I’ll be fine,” Jim declared, smiling as he quickly leaned in to press a kiss to her stomach “and you two be good for your mom. There’ll be plenty of time to cause trouble later, when you’re here.”
“Don’t encourage them,” Shari giggled, shooing him to the door “now go, Captain Kirk. The Enterprise needs you.”
“Aye-aye, Lieutenant Kirk.” Jim chuckled, giving a mock-salute as he finally left their rooms.
~
Jim felt horrible that Shari was going through so much for their kids. Of course, he knew that she wouldn’t regret it, but in the moment, she was going through a hell of a lot. Seeing it all firsthand; from her swelling joints, to the restless nights, to not being able to rest comfortably no matter how hard she tried. Jim had confided in Bones about his slight guilt, and the older man had reassured him it was normal.
“Just be there for her,” he’d told Jim “she’ll appreciate the support more than she’ll be able to say. Especially when it comes time for delivery.”
Now there was a moment that scared him. Jim knew that the entire medical staff on board would take the best care of her, and everything was going well so far, but he knew things could go wrong at the last moment. He was determined to be there through it all, to give her the support she needed no matter what happened.
He would be there when she went into labor. Jim was determined to start off their lives as parents by her side, not separate from her.
~
It was only a few days later, when she was eating lunch with Jim, that Shari felt the first bit of pain. She’d been feeling some most of the morning, about five hours or so at that point, but it was dull enough that she’d chalked it up to either soreness or just psychosomatic cramps. This one, however, was a bit worse than the last.
“You okay?” Jim asked, concerned, as he moved to stand.
“I’m okay,” Shari promised, once the pain passed “probably just false contractions.”
She could see him getting ready to say something, and she remembered what he had to do that afternoon.
“Oh no, you don’t,” she warned, pointing at him to keep him from talking “this away mission is too important. You need to go.”
“Shari, I-” Jim started, jumping a bit as she shushed him harshly.
“You need to go,” Shari insisted “the Dukes asked for you, and you can’t back down after promising you would be there. I promise I will keep in touch with you, and if anything changes, you and Leonard will be the first to know.”
He sighed, finally nodding in agreement.
“You know why I worry,” he told her, getting up and walking around so he could kiss the top of her head “after what my mom told me…”
“I know,” she replied, tone softer “but we both know how important your job is, both for the Federation and to you personally. I promised I would call if anything changes.”
“I know,” he agreed “just take it easy while I’m gone, okay?”
“I will,” Shari promised “now go. This mission needs to go well, and it will with you there.”
She watched as her husband prepared and left for the mission, smiling for him as the doors closed. In her gut, though, she knew he was right to worry about leaving. She had the feeling that this was it, but wouldn’t say anything until she knew for sure.
A few hours later, Shari knew it was definitely not a false alarm. Of course, the twins picked now, of all times!
Knowing they still had a few hours ahead, Shari made sure everything was in order, and was about to call M’Benga when she felt a shift, and distinctly uncomfortable.
Definitely time to make the call.
“M’Benga?” she greeted him, gripping the communicator tight and wincing as another contraction started “can you get word to Leonard and my husband? It…it’s time.”
Shari could hear M’Benga reassure her he would, as he called for a few nurses to go help Shari to the med bay.
“Please let Jim be able to get back in time…” she thought, standing as the nurses arrived. She didn’t know if she could do this without him.
~
The meeting had been going on for a few hours, tense but still thankfully progressing. He and Bones, along with the governing council of Dukes, were gathered at a table for negotiations. Jim’s hands were folded on the table in front of him, and when he turned to listen to another Duke as they spoke, the glint of gold on his left hand garnered the interest of the council leader.
“A strangely plain ornamentation for someone of your standing,” the leader declared, purely curious, as Jim turned back “what purpose does the ring have?”
“While much jewelry humans wear is purely for the sake of how we wish to look,” Jim explained, smiling a bit as he looked down at his wedding band “this is one that serves a purpose. The ring you see is my wedding band, showing that I have found and made a lifelong commitment to the woman I love.”
This earned the attention of the rest of the council, and the tension in the atmosphere seemed to lift.
“A momentous occasion in a man’s life,” the leader mused “you are quite fortunate.”
“I’m very lucky indeed, to have found her,” Jim agreed, smile growing somewhat “my wife is pregnant, and our children are expected any day now.”
“Conceived naturally?” the leader asked, explaining further upon Jim’s confused nod “forgive me. Such a thing is quite a rare occurrence here. You are indeed quite a lucky man.”
As the two spoke, Leonard had received a call through his COMM, and answered as quietly as he could. When he was done, he turned to Jim, an urgent and mischievous look in his eye.
“Jim, that was M’Benga,” Leonard told him, smiling to counter the fear that flickered in Jim’s eyes “Shari’s been moved to Med Bay. He said that things are moving fast, though.”
“Your wife, Captain?” The Council leader inquired, giving a reassuring nod to Jim when he nodded in confirmation “go, Captain Kirk. These talks can wait. It is important that a father is there when his children are born.”
With quick words of thanks for the whole council, Jim and Leonard left quickly. It didn’t take long at all for them to be beamed back on board the ship, and soon both were running to the Med Bay.
Word had spread that Shari had gone into labor, so none seemed surprised or worried as Jim and Leonard went rushing past. Arriving found them face to face with a pacing Shari, wincing as she was helped by one of the nurses.
Wordlessly, Jim went straight to her, helping her stand as he kissed her forehead.
“Sorry it took so long,” he muttered, once the contraction had passed “came as soon as I could.”
“Right on time,” Shari reassured him, smiling up at him “your kids have no patience, you know that? Took their sweet time deciding, and now they can’t wait to get here.”
“Sounds like you, too, you know,” he replied, smiling “come on, let’s get you back to the bed. You need to keep your strength up.”
The next few hours passed the same, with Jim helping her through the pain and periodic checks by Leonard to make sure things were going smoothly. They had developed their plan weeks in advance, and everything was going as close to it as it could be.
Watching her in so much pain had Jim feeling horrible, but he knew that it would be over in a few hours, and she likely wouldn’t remember the full extent of it afterwards.
Once the time had passed, and Leonard said that she appeared ready, Jim got into position behind Shari. Her back was against his chest, and he held both her hands in his. She could lean against him for support, squeeze his hands as tight as she needed. Jim made sure to say words of encouragement all the while, keeping an eye on things as they happened.
Even if everything hadn’t happened so quickly, Shari would have still said no to the painkillers during labor and delivery. As such, she would say later that she didn’t remember much of the delivery. The first thing she remembered was Jim’s whispered awe as they heard a baby crying.
“There’s little one number one,” he told her, watching the nurse take and clean up the baby “halfway there, my love. You can do this.”
It wasn’t too much longer afterwards that the delivery ended, and Shari collapsed back against Jim’s chest, panting to try and catch her breath.
“Nothing like a Kirk wanting to make a grand entrance,” Leonard quipped, smiling, as he and a nurse brought the children over “even more dramatics when there’s two.”
“Who made their debut first?” Shari asked, smiling as she watched Jim take their girl in his arms.
“Your daughter,” Leonard replied, setting her son in her arms “your little boy came ‘round not two minutes later.”
“Eager to not be outdone.” she chuckled, smiling through tears as she looked up at Jim next to her. The look on his face as he looked down at their daughter was one that she’d remember forever. Tears fell down his cheeks as he smiled softly, holding the newborn close to his heart.
“You did it, my queen,” Jim whispered, looking down to Shari “they’re beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.”
“Couldn’t have done it without you, my king,” she replied, leaning back against his shoulder as she looked back to their son “he has your eyes.”
“And she has yours.” Jim mused, sliding down enough that they could see both children easily.
“You two decide on names?” Leonard asked, having been standing back and watching the new parents meet their children.
“We did,” Jim looked up to his friend, smiling “Our son is George Brendan, for my dad and Shari’s mom.”
“Our daughter is Lenore Wynonna,” Shari added, smiling just as bright “for her god-father, and Jim’s mother.”
At the news, Leonard couldn’t help looking a bit misty. It was enough that his friends had decided to name him godfather, but to name one of their children after him?
“I’ll leave you four be,” he told them “come back to check on the kids and mom in a bit.”
As Leonard left, Jim smiled bright as he helped switch the twins around, so he was holding baby George, and Shari was holding Lenore. He smiled at the sight of blonde hair on his son, their daughter having dark brown hair like her mother.
“After all this time,” he muttered “they’re finally here. I can’t believe it.”
“Me neither,” Shari agreed, leaning tiredly against Jim “I’m sure the entire crew is eagerly waiting for the announcement.”
“Well, they can wait,” Jim declared “I want this time with you three, and you need your rest.”
She nodded, smiling as she looked down and watched their children. So peaceful and calm, for now, and she wanted to enjoy the moment while it lasted.
It was a day before Shari and the twins were cleared to leave Med Bay, and Jim was certain his kids were known by most everyone on the ship. He’d made the announcement through a PADD message that morning, of course, with a call from both himself and Shari to their mothers once Shari was up for it. Both women were honored that their names lived on in their grandchildren, and declared their eagerness to meet the two face to face soon enough.
Once they were in their quarters, Jim and Shari settled baby George and Lenore down for sleep. Jim smiled as he watched both of them sleeping, sitting next to the crib as Shari stood behind him.
“I still can’t quite believe they’re finally here,” he muttered, looking up at her “this…it changes everything, and in the best way.”
“Ever imagine life would go this way?” she asked, leaning down and wrapping her arms around his shoulders while she kissed his cheek “that we’d find each other, get married, have our wonderful children?”
“Not in a million years,” Jim replied, hands coming up to gently hold her arms “but I can’t imagine life going any other way, now. Can’t imagine life without you, or our cubs, moya koroleva yaguarov.”
“Me neither, moy korol’ volkov,” Shari declared, leaning into him “our family is complete, and the future is all the brighter.”
