Danielle.

" We set visions to make our mark. " Writer, Teacher, Scripted by #DevilSwan

[scriptofdevilswan]

Waves

Events of S14, of Chicago Fire, Stellaride based. This will be a 2 parter.

Waves 

Expected to say the words I’m fine. To brave a smile, to be strong. To go on with your normal routine as if her heart hadn’t been separated in two. That day kept replaying in her mind. The words Miscarrage, it happens sometimes before you even know your pregnant. There was nothing stopping you from having a healthy pregnancy moving forward. The guilt, the repressed feelings of family, it ripped through Stella. The words, Kelly spoke “ Baby, it’s okay.” That day felt like a whirlwind. Stella didn’t know how to process her thoughts, her feelings. 

She was a firefighter, she had experienced being scared to carry a baby, not because she didn’t want to take that leap. Kelly and myself took the biggest leap of all when we said I do, when we leaned on each other to love one another. It was what she witnessed, she was scared of feeling detached, of not being a good mother. Of letting Kelly and their child down. But the image of Kelly in their bedroom that night, his tears, how happy he was that we were pregnant, all my fears had washed away. I knew expectation was unknown, our jobs, the risk of a baby. But in that moment I felt relief, that joy, we were gonna be a family. 

And now.. Stella liked control, she liked knowing she was in control of her own body, of how she handled herself. She could feel the concern on her husband’s face each time he felt she wasn’t looking. Stella found it hard for herself to look at him for weeks after, he said it wasn’t her fault. But she couldn’t help but wonder if she had suspected sooner, her emotions on a high, how irritated she’d been maybe she would’ve been more careful. And no Kelly won’t blame her, but she blamed herself. All he’s wanted was a family, he was patient with me, he waited for my direction to feel where my head was at. He understood it was primarily my choice. He understood it was my future, my body that was affected, and I loved him more for it. But I also hated him for walking on eggshells around me. It had been months, and Stella was focused at the house, each time Kelly had given an indication to check in on her; she bolted. Why? Because she felt sad, she felt heartbroken a piece of her was gone. And she couldn’t look at her husband. Because she felt like it was her fault, she let him down. 

Someone she loved, someone she would risk it all for, who she used to lean on, vent anything to, suddenly felt like Kelly and herself were miles apart. And Kelly loves her enough not to push her. Not to force her to talk to him. But all this bottled up energy, feelings it hits in waves. And tonight was one of those nights; she and Kelly had just stepped through the loft doors, after a long shift. Vasquuez was a pain in the ass, a cocky the attitude and I was frustrated. A audible sigh left my lips but it felt like I was suddenly back to square one, trying to train and raise a teenager who wanted to break records, who didn’t have respect for me and my authority. Plopping down on the couch, I leaned my head back against the couch, staring at the ceiling, our home, it nearly felt broken at this point, and I didn’t know how to open that wound. I felt Kelly next to me, his arm wrapped around the back of the couch where my head was. “ If anyone can train him, and reach him the 51 way it’s you Stell.” 

And I blinked raised my head to allow my hues to meet his own. “ I know, I broke in Carver, I did it with Damon, or should I say they respect you more.” He rolled his head back because we all know Carver respected me, but Damon was family. “ Damon was a special case.” And I nodded knowing this. He apologized, he owned up to his own faults in the end. I just felt guilt, I felt like each time another member left from my rigg it was on me, I was failing at home and at the job, and I felt disgusted about it. 

Shifting in my spot, I leaned farther into my knees, and leaned my hands into my pants, because I was struggling, it wasn’t about Vasquez, it was about my pain, what I didn’t know how to fix. “ I’m sorry.” I said without looking at him. Instantly Kelly replied ‘ For what baby?” And I arched my head back; to look at him, his blue eyes; piercingly so. “ For pushing you away, for being okay. I don’t want you to have to walk around me like I’m broken, like I’ve stopped moving.” And he laughed, as he leaned to my level. “ It’s okay, and you have nothing to be sorry for Stell, it’s okay to hurt, but i’m here when your ready.” 

And I knew he was; and each time I wanted to open my mouth to elaborate; I paused, because I felt like I was hard to process now, Our baby, gone, how do I say what I want to say? I didn’t utter another word, before I had leaned into his chest feeling his arms slip around me. And I crushed into his chest, a safety, a feeling of wholeness, of love.

And for a second a mend a piece was peeling back together.

[scriptofdevilswan]

Time stands still.

Time stands still. 

Scott had heard the story before. A boy takes bit and his life changes. It had never felt true until he experienced it himself. Except that bite did change him, but it also benefitted him. Scott had left Beacon Hills, he had found himself. He was now based in Los Angeles. He was based at a shelter where he used his powers for good. Where he was able to heal wounded animals. He was able to jump into the line of duty, have a purpose for himself. It had been years since he last saw his friends. The last time he felt that feeling, like he was being pulled back. To a past, to Beacon Hills. 

And he had felt like the dust had settled. He had forgiven himself for the pain he caused himself and those around him. But this feeling this tingle in his finger tips, it was dark, the brisk skies now. He was at the shelter, and he felt in the wind from the door. The wind of dusk. And he saw her; an image, her face felt so clear to him. And the memory of when Allison had brought that dog she ran over to his shelter, and the way she brushed her lock of hair behind her ear, and he felt his breath get caught in his throat. No words; he was memorized by her. And he missed her; he felt her presence for the first time. 

And that’s where this story started; he was pulled back to the place he left. The supernational world, his friends, his family were at risk, and he felt the responsibility to save them and himself. It was her; that helped guide him. The Nogitsune, it fed on our pain, and Scott knew the plan from the start. It wanted Allison to kill him, to dive that blade the arrows through his heart. And he felt the breeze against his skin. He was meant for death now; but it was her that had the power, but Scott he was still desperately in love with her; and he knew time had paused and passed. But this was Allison, it wasn’t until the scream, did he hold hope. When he was on the tree, and the hellhound, Derek it felt so clear to him; he was going to sacrifice himself; he wanted to sace Derek he had a kid. And I locked eyes with her; I saw Allison now; and I felt my chest swell up because she was okay; she remembered on her own. She knew me. And Now I had that choice, the one to live or sacrifice. But Derek he was the one to push me away, I felt myself fall to the hard ground. And It flashed before my eyes, as I smelled the flames. Where I had stood to my feet, feeling the ache in my body; and I felt relief, when I felt her hand in mine; as if no time stopped between us. 

I glanced over at her; and I smiled our fingers locked onto each other; I wondered, what comes next? Our worlds our powers now ours; and I loved her; and I wanted her in my life; but only if Allison desired to.

[scriptofdevilswan]

The darkness caves in

A darkness caves in 

“ i’m here because she wants me here.” The words felt easy on his lips. Like showing up for Ginny was the easiest concept in the world. Marcus was barely hanging on, even just the day before, when he felt Ginny, her arms wrapped tightly around his waist, her head nestled on his shoulder. He should feel love because he loves this girl. But he felt numb, he felt selfish because he broke up with her; for himself, for her, to stop himself from hurting her in the long run. Yet she was the one to hold me. To tell me in her sweet voice it’ll be okay. 

She blamed herself for thinking my claim to Max was solely because I didn’t want to be with her. If only, I’ve never loved like this before. I’ve never wanted to be okay, I never wanted to fight for my own sanity like this before. Because of how deeply I love her. Ginny was this compass of light for me, I never wanted someone as much as I wanted her. But when I close my eyes my mind was darkness, the grief, the pain I harbored inside of myself it was heavy enough to where I allowed those dark thoughts to creep in. Why did I live? What was my purpose? Marcus felt lost, he was devastated by his own mind. He felt better until it hit in waves. He felt like a walking zombie, he had no motivation to learn, to attend class, and as much as he felt for Ginny, he couldn’t live for one person. He had to live for himself too. But being friends with Ginny meant you show up; even if you had no control of where you landed. 

The wedding, he stood in the distance, he nodded and he saw that smile of hers; that made his heart jump. Him existing made her happy. And for a split moment it was enough, until the darkness caved in, Until her whole world crashed down. It was all in slow motion, the cops, arresting Georgia.. My mother and sister grasping, and I felt still. I remembered the horrified expression on Ginny’s face, the frantic looking Paul attempting to calm the guest down, as he was aiming to ride after the vehicle that just left, Austin tear stained face screaming “ Mom.” An echo of voices, yet I stood there in the dusk air, unable to move, I should’ve reached for my family, or be a shoulder for Ginny, but I was unmoveable in that moment. 

48 hours later, Marcus had barely moved from his bed, he was laying down staring at the ceiling. He hadn’t eaten since that day. He vaguely remembered the hushed tones of Max and his mother; whispered of “ How was Ginny?” And Max had mentioned she hadn’t been home. And I knew for a fact Ginny hadn’t been home since her mother’s arrest. Because I had listened for the cars, I had listened and also debated pushing myself onto my feet to look out my window, to hers. But I couldn’t bare to move, nor did I want to keep hurting her; I made a promise to her mother to not hold her back, and I didn’t. I let her go even if it hurt like hell. I missed her, I longed to see if she was okay. The trauma, all the trauma she’s been through, no secrets, nothing was hidden between us. I saw beneath the strong exterior, I saw Ginny for who she was, and I loved her endlessly. I was left with the obvious love wasn’t enough. If I could barely keep my eyes open, I had wandering thoughts, I was on my meds, but I still thought about closing my eyes and knocking the pain out; and never breathing the air again. 

How fucked up was that? I was a kid, I was in love, and I let darkness, consume me, even in her darkest hour.

[scriptofdevilswan]

" I could hold you in my arms.

I could hold you in my arms, 

I could hold you forever 

When you kissed my lips 

With my mouth  full of questions

My worried mind that you quiet. 

                         Max Evans, a hero, his complex of savior. He knew his purpose when he landed on earth, from that horrible night in the wood, the desert we had only been kids. Kids that felt different, didn’t know if the way we moved was normal. The fear that kept us alive. That night abilities were found, the ability to kill; to protect his sister, his brother in need. His purpose was to blend in, to step up, to be a hero for those who felt too little to save themselves. 

           It’s why he became a sheriff; he wore the badge, he had the protective defense of a gun. He stayed became a guy from Roswell because its all he’s ever known. He wanted to be someone you counted on, someone who was able to make others feel safe, to lean on. And suddenly Max didn’t look at himself in the mirror with that same clarity. Not since the night he and his siblings uncovered Jones, being told he was different he was a sacrifice, a savior. The power he emblem in himself, the lighting, the power to kill, to cause harm it affected him. Max was afraid of himself, the lengths he’d go for others. He destroyed Liz, he lost her because he was protective of himself, he was protective of the samples she collected from him, that fear that rippled through you. He sacrificed the love he had for her; for himself, for his family. He could’ve said the words I’m sorry, but instead he let Liz leave. 

That day, kept repeating out in his mind. Blame, for hurting her, for tossing out her life's work, except Max wasn’t stupid he kept the tapes, he kept her vision alive. He kept her voice in his head. He was dying, he felt the shift within his chest, and for months he’s been drowning himself to forget. Forget her, that joyous smile of hers when she made process. When she was rambling from excitement. But he also was trying to remember her voice, the voice that didn’t make him scared for when his light, his heart gave out. And he wanted to thank her for loving him, for protecting him, but the thought of saying the words his heart was dying on him, it would make Liz feel guilty, it would make her doubt her abilities for that innovation, her brilliant mind. My abilities the savior inside of me was my fault; not hers. So I kept my mouth shut. I’d drink and pretend to have fun, and each time Iz attempted to invade my mind a mindscape and Max was positive he’s cleaned his mind of doubts, he was afraid to say the words aloud. So instead on this beautiful afternoon at his place he sat at one of the longe chairs, his notes on his lap, Each note had a name; and inside was a letter to those he loved. Who he’d be saying goodbye to. A sigh left his lips as he felt the beating sun drown down on him. “ With time they’ll understand.” Why I was silent in the clouds, why a savior is the one to sacrifice himself.

[scriptofdevilswan]

All the cycles running through my head.

John B solo.

All the cycles roping through my head. 

              All I hear is the fire that loops through my mind. 

All the close calls, all the times I felt the sweat dripping from my face moments after the shots fired. After I ducked, all the times I came face to face with death. John B was fearless, he was a fighter, his motive for as long as he remembered was for his dad. For closure, and then when he had the disbelief of his life, he was alive. And what was meant to be a reunion, to feel whole John B had isolated himself, he had followed rules of his own dad. He kept secrets, he nearly lost Sarah due to heat of moment comments, he lost himself in this adventure. The adventure for gold. 

But now as this chapter closes, he wonders.. What’s next? The gold was found, my house was gone. Burnt down. We spent most of our time at JJ’s evicted place. Me more so on the hammock. It was a sense of home, laying there on the netted material feeling the swing of movement. Sarah laid next to me. The last thing I’d remember before drifting off to sleep was her head nestled into her shoulder, my lips grazing her forehead with a “ Goodnight.” Before my eyes blinked shut watching the stars. 

It was sleep, peaceful for a moment, an hour before the nightmares started. Before I saw Singh, his men guns up and blazing aimed at me. And I felt the sweat, I felt that terrifying feeling, pressure in my chest. As I in this dream raised my hands, His other men came up behind me and I felt the tightness his arm around my neck, the tainting words of death “ No more lives John B.” I felt like my lungs were closing in. I felt like I couldn’t breathe as if i was suffocating. My eyes closed waiting for the last straw the pull of the trigger, before my life would be taken. When the shots rang my eyes jointed awake, my head lifted as if my was experiencing a panic. Sweat dripping from my forehead. Heart racing rapidly. I was confused and dazed, I had nearly fallen off the hammock. 

Pain in my chest, my hand went to my chest as if to attempt to calm myself. I was here, I was okay. No, It was Sarah who drew me back. Her hand on my arm, her calming voice. ‘ John B.” Whispered nothings to me as she made me look at her. Her hands coming to my face, my eyes dropped from the grass under us to her softness of a hues. I was visibly scared, a nightmare. Her hands brushed against my cheeks as she brought her lips to my lips with a brush of a kiss as she whispered. “ Baby, it’s okay, I’m right here.” I could see she wanted to ask what happened.. 

But how do I say the words a nightmare the same one I’ve been having for days.. Because my dad, the guns consistently fired at me, all the times I felt like my life was flashing before my eyes? It was an endless cycle, of pain, of torment.. When do we break free? 

[scriptofdevilswan]

Walking alone.. In the dark skies no recall, it makes you want to scream.

Walking alone.. In the dark skies no recall, it makes you want to scream. 

One second you’ve recovered, made it on the other side. Of the scars, the darkness that peeled against your skin. From near death, from losing a wife. You’ve found love again. You felt happy, yet each night when you closed your eyes, you felt fear. The fear you’d wake up and be somewhere unfamiliar. Clay pretended to be fine. Each night he fell asleep in a peaceful bliss, arm wrapped around Quinn’s dainty frame. And hours, of bliss of sleep, the morning.. 

It’s when it’s hazy. He’d wake up on playgrounds. A spinning while of swings. He’d open his eyes and feel dizzy. He had always been the dependable guy. The guy to lean on, no more secrets. Sleep walking, was fine. Fine enough to where Clay wore a smile, said the words enough to reassure the dirty blonde he was okay. But in the back of his head he was freaking out. Sleep walking, no memory of what occurred during these hours, it was terrifying. And I lied. I told quinn I brought the drugs, because my prescription ran out, I was so terrified of myself if I said the words. The words I dreaded upon, what she dreaded upon. Did it make me insane? Delusional? Honestly it was a give or take. Clay was devoted, he was happy. But when Dan showed up today, the killer that man was, I didn’t feel fear. I felt relief when he pushed my dark locks under the ocean waves. Because for those seconds I wasn’t a fraud, I wasn’t a guy lying to his girlfriend. I was free from the scars, from the demons of my own mind. 

Wetness over my face, holding my breath now, the haunting words echoed through my mind. “ Do you ever learn? Buying drugs? Putting my family in danger.” Now he was one to chat, considering but in fear he actually wanted to kill me, Clay tied his tongue shut until his head lifted up for air, breathing heavily now. As the water spilled from his lips, as he coughed out the amount of ocean water. “ I’m not buying drugs, I lied.” And the ask the obvious why? A stone cold expression layered over my features, as I said the words aloud, that made my skin cold, curl with fear. “ I didn’t want to scare her, I don’t remember why I was there. I don’t remember when I leave this house. I wake up and don’t remember a thing.” Dan was someone i didn’t trust, which is probably why I felt free saying the words aloud. I owed him nothing. He hated me enough, and I hated him yet he had the tenacity to motivate me in my career, to better mentally for myself. And I felt it the shock, the stare, dreading turning around, I knew it Quinn. Tilting my head back, jaw flat open. “ Baby..” I echoed the words; because I never wanted to scare her, I never wanted Quinn to hold the burden to where my nightmares were.. 

Socked in my legs, the ocean I wanted to roll over, fall, rather than face her; the woman I loved , the girl I never wanted to disappoint, and face my fears. No memories, our demons we hold close, do we fight or roll over into darkness? 

[scriptofdevilswan]

Part 2 to John B solo

" I can't stand to say goodbye"

“ If I say yes you’re not allow to die.” 

It was the promise we made. John B was known for reckless impulses. He was known to bend the rules when it came to getting the gold; Ward had double crossed him what felt like a thousand times especially when you include my dad. And John B thought at the time it was crazy to insinuate that he was probably gonna die if he continued to be reckless. Continued to do instead of think. At the time John B felt anger vengeance. He wanted the gold, and he was willing to break an entering to get it. But in the path of discovery he found that real treasure for him was Sarah; the passion the love he had for her. 

And that quote stuck with him now, the storm that separated himself from her. Himself from JJ. He promised not to die, and it was the deal we made. No more hunting for treasure; the thrill is what kept us alive. The day we said I do, on that boat heading back home to OBX, to trusting Sarah; I felt joy, happiness in that moment because I loved her. I wanted to build this life together; I had recently spoken about settling down. Because I wanted to; I wasn’t scared of the unknown. Of death if it meant I experienced a meaningful life with her. I was terrified about this adventure when she told me she was pregnant, and I knew how terrified we were. A life of risk, a life of wonder. And here we were on the last hunt; for JJ; the blue crown. I had no idea one wrong move would cost me her. Our baby. John B memory of the boat; the storm felt hasty now. As he slowly moved his eyes. His face dug into the sand. He barely heard Pope and Cleo as they dusted themselves off. His head lifted the ocean blues, the waves that kept mounting on top of us, our legs with each crash of a wave. He mumbled “ where’s Sarah.” His only concern was Sarah now, As he moved to stand up. The wound on his knee was clear. He noticed Kie was emotionless now as she stood, And Rafe oh god Rafe he was alive and walking. “ Where’s Sarah?” I yelled into the void. 

The memory of her going overboard, of JJ jumping after her it hit me. I felt devastated now, I felt the tears pool at my eyes as I glanced at the open ocean blues. “ We have to look.” I said, and I barely felt the hand of Kie come to my shoulder now. “ John B..” She said with a tearful eyes. And I brushed her off. I didn’t care about injuries I held. I didn’t care I was limping into the ocean now. But I ran like hell feeling the height of waters rach my knees. I dove under water at one point, and I swam like hell looking for her. The shoes, the white dress, for my love. For Sarah. I felt numb when I came up for air. John B was lost without his treasure. 

And It had been hours now. While the others made a camp. Kie and I searched high and low for JJ and Sarah. I remembered it all too well. I felt the stain of tears that threatened my cheeks. I noticed the sunrise hitting. Kie spoke in a low tone. “ John B.. He went in after her for you.” And I knew JJ felt guilty for how he dismissed me about fatherhood, claiming I wouldn’t be a good dad. And how do I hold a grudge when he jumped into a sea of water after her? I was so mad. But I also couldn’t bare the thought of not seeing them again. Never holding Sarah’s hand. Our last kiss, having my hand flat on her stomach; the last talk being we’re scared.. And yeah it made sense but now.. John B barely felt his limbs he fell to the sand his knees weak now. And he felt Kie lay her head on his shoulder “ We’ll find them John B.” without bodies all we held onto was hope. To see our loves, the love of our lives again. In our seas of oceans now. And John B screamed “ Sarah” He screamed thousands of times until he couldn’t feel his lungs anymore. Hands grasping hold of the sand now, and He was lost. 

A promise we made; not to die, it was the sliver line of thread John B had left. His other piece missing.

[scriptofdevilswan]

‘ And I hold you every night 

   And that’s a feeling I want to get used to 

         But there’s no man as terrified 

                As a man who stands to lose you’ 

“ Don’t you leave me again.” 

“ I can’t lose you.” The words echoed in his head. John B knew the heartache of broken promise. He lived through his father who went missing, who was alive reentered his life, and then died at the hands of finding gold, a sacrifice he made for me, for Sarah in that cave. The same sacrifice Ward Cameron made to redeem himself in his daughter’s eyes. Was all the pain forgiven? Yes and no. For John B he ached to see the pain in Sarah’s eyes, and truth be told Ward did the same action John B was terrified in the moment of finishing. John B was going to step in front of that bullet, to save Sarah, and a part of him knew Sarah would scold him for it. We sacrifice, we spent days thinking treasure is the right move, to provide, to make a living. Ward helped us in the end, and Sarah was alive; so yeah For John B it felt like water was under the bridge. 

The only family we had left, heartache devastated and all, we both experienced trauma. Guns pointed at heads, the battle wounds of our own family putting us in harms way. And we were alive, Sarah had become my whole world, the person I woke up to, the pearson I smiled to myself over. Each morning, I felt her head rested either on my chest or her hair was scrolled out over my arm that was hanging under her head. And I’d smile watch her wistfully sleep, peaceful, We’re home. A place John found happiness and content with. After all the close calls, all the times he nearly lost himself, his friends and Sarah, he believed he signed off from the G game. That morning, just hours ago we were okay, we agreed one last mission. 

Was I curious? Of course the blue crowd? The next attempt at gold? To save our home? To build a house for just Sarah and I? The power of devotion of love, a protective instinct was more powerful than ever. Just hours ago, Sarah told me we’re pregnant. I felt shock, The waves of fear because my mother left me at a young age, and my dad was far from steller half the time. He cared more about treasure, the next big win than being there for me. I learned that when he forced me into lying to people I loved, he was willing to risk death. But John B his real gold was Sarah and I knew she was scared, so was I. I was felt terrified when the words left my lips that night, Resting my hand upon her stomach with more importance than any other time I held her in my arms. 

And that’s where he stood, motivated for the win, the gold once more because he wanted desperately to provide for his family. To not be his dad. He was going to be a good dad, and Sarah was going to be a spectacular mother, her caring nature, her caring touch, I knew we both wanted to survive this ship, one last trip to Morocco, for JJ, who had been done dirty, this trip gave us a chance to redeem, a chance to forgive, earn trust. And although I wanted to punch Rafe myself; John B reminded himself he wasn’t a fighter, not anymore. Any urge he had was swept under the rug the second he looked at Sarah and saw that small smile of hers, every move he made was for her. 

Sacrifices, why was it every person had to risk it all for me? For Sarah? It all happened at once, in fast motion. The waves, the storm crashing in, the boat wasn’t able to handle it. John B held tightly to that wheel attempting to maneuver the boat forward; to survive the storm. One second he was holding on for dear life and the next he was knocked down to his knees, he felt a wave of pain on his leg from the impact, but he didn’t care. “ John B” her voice of an angel creeped up, and he was prepared to stand; on his feel unsteady now. 

“ Sarah!” I yelled through the open waves, She was so far on the end of the boat to reach, I tried to move my body towards her, and I swore I felt numb the second I saw it. She fell into a barrial, she fell, an ache in my body formed and I was pushing my body to jump down, but the waves, the storm surrounding us ran deep. Enough and at once Sarah; the woman I loved, my wife disappeared from sight overboard. I vaguely heard the commotions under the cabin, JJ; and I was so angry at him for calling me a bad dad, when all I wanted was to believe in him, the friend he’s always been. But how how do you stay angry when you just witnessed your best friend jump willingly overboard after your wife? My child? John b swore he couldn’t breath, the agonizing pain in his chest, “ Sa” He tried to speak but no words came out. His eyes were blurry from the wetness the tears that dared to fall. He barely heard Kiara come on board to the area I was, hand on the wheel of the boat. “ what happened? John B? “ Sacrifice is a funny thing, our bodies more without a muscle memory of knowing why. 

I couldn’t speak, I was speechless, eyes watered up, the shock in my body now as all I could do was reach for Kie and pull her close to my chest. The ocean blues lifting and falling, All I saw was the life preserve, No sign Of Sarah, No Sign of JJ, and I felt like I had no air within me. All the times, the promises, I can’t lose you, I wanted to scream, I wanted jump ship, but I had Sarah’s voice echoing in my head now. “ Don’t make stupid decisions John B, think of us.” And I was, but it wasn’t one aching heart, but two. 

Devastated, loss at sea.. I was nothing but numbness, as the shouts the worried consumed around me.

[scriptofdevilswan]

The waves of voices

The waves of voices that never stops. 

“ Where are they?” 

           “ Go Get them” The round of voices that ranted in his head. John B had his own fair share of reservations when it came to getting back into the hunt for money; gold. Treasure hunting; he once told himself the gold, the royal Merchant it was a means of tied ends. To avenge my dad; his work; his life’s work until the day he disappeared. Then the cross was a means for Pogue; his family’s legacy, and although John B loved the rush the adrenaline that rocked through him at each chase. At each potential to be rich to provide for himself; for Sarah. When blackbeard came to head; he said no to himself. Of course JJ only cared about the advance money; money to sum it right correctly. And John was left to play along; it was fun at first but in the back of his head he was terrified of becoming his dad. He had the potential to lose it all. Love, happiness, our house we built.. And he worried if he continued down this path of great treasure it would consume him. 

All the times he had the nightmares; of guns being fired at him. The nightmares of witnessing the lengths his father  was willing to go; for a lead, the gold. It was like someone possessed him; and he lost all senses of morals. John B told himself he knew when to walk away; the pogue life; everything we built now on the cut; and I found love, marriage with Sarah, I was scared intentionally when a new treasure came to fall in our laps. But John B folded; the reminded of what Sarah said to him on the fairy when he only wore pure love on his features for her. “ I like us just the way we are.” Had I jumped the gun upon mentioning family, kids, a dog? Possibly.. But what John B’s learned in the last few days tomorrow was never promised; her biological clock was an excuse because he swore Sarah laughed in his face then, because John B mentioning kids? What was he on.. But the truth was all I wanted was to build a life with Sarah; I knew any one of us could drown, get shot at, blow up just you name it. But I also felt relief in knowing I wasn’t dragging Sarah into our hunt for gold again, she wanted to be here; risk it all with me. And he kept her voice in his head now. As he felt his own palms shaking; he ran like hell. Like hell to the twinkie. He swore his poor car had made it through hell and high waters on many occasions like himself; if not more; and he was scrambling as his shoes paused; glancing over his shoulder to ensure he wasn’t made; to ensure the people that just went down a tome, and crawled their asses back up, who tried to kill Kie and JJ, who killed Terrance. I felt the blood rush to his face; as he moved with hast, and John B had just grabbed the gun. The gun where he found the clicker and he had himself in position. Headlights in view; as the pair the mercenaries had yet to get into the car; and I felt like my heart was beating rapidly out of my chest. I was nervous I had the perfect shot all I had to do was fire. 

But John B froze, his head telling him like a speed of light that he had an obligation to make the shot. These people tried to hurt his family; put a threat to our mission. But John B he heard Big John’s voice in his head “ Aren’t you gonna help me?” Help him finish the job. But all I felt was fear; and I had to wonder if that gene of lengths of morals was inside of him. John B couldn’t be ruthless like Big John, the guilt would eat him alive. He was more of the man that steals shit back on our terms; he didn’t want to fire unless his life depended on it. That day; of the high seas; the boat; my dad pushing two dead men off their boat; for the journal it haunted him. The same nightmare that him jolting awake at night; sweat draining over his forehead. John B thought he was past it; but standing here hearing the crackling of thunder; he felt himself unfold, his fingers shaking as he tried once more to fire; his aim there; and one would fall to the ground; but killing that instinct wasn’t inside of him. 

He failed himself, Cleo.. as the car started away; my grip on the gun loosen and he angrily tossed it into the Twinkie; in frustration; it was one of those times the male knew the right move but failed. This is when Sarah would place a hand on his arm lift her head to his shoulder and whisper “ It’s okay, we’ll find a way.” Her comfort; she was home to me, and I felt helpless now. The feel of raindrops hitting my sweaty face; and I looked up to the darken skies and I screamed. I screamed into the void. As high as my lungs would allow as I came to sit at the edge of the twinkie because I failed, I let them get away; I couldn’t follow through and make the kill. Sarah and Pope were where? I beg to ask again “ WHERE ARE THEY?” in the church it was meant to be safe; and now all I felt was failure and loss. I felt the defeat in my face as I placed my hands on my knees; and I exhaled loudly in a grumble. 

Split up; facing our own demons; where do we go from here? Our trauma has a way of flipping us upside down.

[scriptofdevilswan]

The G game fell back in our hands.

The G game fell back in our hands. 

The gold; the hunt it was ours; retrieving the gold in El Dorado. John B won; the pogues came out on the other side. And it was normal; we found a new normal with each other. We built a loving home for us to share at JJ’s old place. John B could say it took time to adapt, to get used to not being on the run. Used to feeling relieved and safe. His made family; the pogues we had all the odds stacked against us; and in return he felt like we came out on top. The bait shop, the charter boat; the sandwich shop; it was filled with everything he dreamed up; and he was lucky enough to spend the future with his friends; with his girl. We survived; no more hiding. 

But all feeling of normalize comes to an end. A new hunt; a new treasure came knocking on our door. John b would be lying if he said he wasn’t hopeful that when we went out to take a look at blackbeard’s location; the ship that sunk he was hoping to come out empty handed. Did he want to jump back into the G game? Not necessarily, but he also did miss the adrenaline it came with. But John B had this sinking feeling; the knot in the pit of his stomach; his dad a reminder of the deaths that haunted us. Big John, Ward.. they died for us; and I couldn’t help but fearing i’d be just like my dad. Never slowing down; letting the G game consume me until I was left alone. Locked in a back room with only myself; the stir crazy in my head to figure out a clue. All I’d have is my research. In the now I was happy; with the life us pogues built; with Sarah my deepest love; and I was terrified it would flicker and all be gone. I wanted the money; we needed it to keep our business and our home afloat; not to mention JJ and his reckless behaviors; but I had fears. Pope’s words echoed in my ears today; the amount of alcohol we consumed due to excitement; the real G game falling in our laps; and how us treasure hunters couldn’t say no.. 

An ache in my stomach said stay back; but I had to put my fears aside; I wasn’t my dad. I learned how to prioritize what stood in front of me. I didn’t want to jump into action; into the leads with regrets. We got lucky all the obstacles that stood in our way; all the reasons Sarah and I could’ve fallen apart; and I knew she was joking in the twinkie about a ring; needing proof but I wanted to find a way to solidify a promise; a promise to us before we dove head first into the treasure hunting business. So that afternoon which the safely made ring I had in my back pocket. No no I didn’t buy one; with what money? I made one; I had sat at the place that used to be my home; The place that used to feel like home, the same tree that had my name engraved upon it; the place that now was left for ash, the place I once lived with my dad. But home wasn’t a place; it was a person; Sarah was my person; how insane it was we fell deeply in love; she was the anchor that kept me whole. And as I sat there this afternoon; in the rare time I had; I used the knife to scrap the edges together; to make a ring; for her; to make it official. And I know we’ve been home for 18 months; with money; I could’ve bought a princess cut as she requested back when we said I do; a promise under the stars each other. But I suppose I stopped thinking about how I could be enough to provide for her; for us; instead I accepted where we were; blissfully in love, happy despite all the deaths; the trauma that once held us back. And now I felt giddy in my bones; the fire blowing under the stars. A few drinks in us, the crackling of flames, the laugher of our friends; Pope and Cleo were near the hammock talking; while Kie and JJ were on one of the sets of couches on the porch, and i was here; that goofy grin of mine as I echoed the words “ Hi.” Joy on my features; and Sarah had that gorgeous smile of hers; as if two people couldn’t be more in sync. 

Home is where our hearts were; united as one; we fight the storms together; I couldn’t worry about the future; the treasure hunting game; I had the now with the girl I loved; and I felt home. 

Tomorrow could wait.

[scriptofdevilswan]

Cut that paralyzes you.

Cut that paralyzes you. 

It all felt like a speed of light; a breakthrough; blackbeard, a new hunt; the concerns Pope wore at the back of his head. His responsible was to be the responsible one; the one that thinks three steps ahead. A mastermind on planning; the key was Charlsen, the north star; where it all colloids, death and the living. Pope felt excitement; a rush of adrenaline until his world crashed. 

One phone call that can twist your arm. One phone call that forces your insides to drop. Cleo; she was in trouble, only 24 minutes; to get to her. I wasn’t worried about myself or the consequences of walking or in my case running into this fight alone. I only cared about Cleo ensuring her safety. I was worried; I was fearful; if it was the same guy from the deep seas; from the seas that tried to bring death to Kie and JJ, if a gun was involved; whos to say those shots wouldn’t be fired…

A speed of light; from the biking; the motorbike down the lanes of streets; to crossing the threshold of our home; the place we peeled apart to make our own; a second Pogulandia. We built it from the ground up; we had a business; and up until JJ had risked it all with our money; and it blew up in his face, did we feel the stress; the building of trouble. But like John B said how long did we believe we’d stay afloat out of trouble? Our necks bent over; and now Pope felt harbored into the lion’s den. No backup; right as the clock served 4, he felt the lump that formed in his throat.. The sight before terrified him; he felt his knees shake. A gun aimed right at Cleo; and he cared so deeply about her; he couldn’t let her die. And Pope supposed this was one of the rare times his brain stopped; and he moved before his thoughts caught up with him. A speed of light like he said; one second he echoed her name; and made a move to knock the musical guy over; gun in hand, and he found himself over on the ground. He was the brains not the muscle besides John B and JJ got in enough fights for the pogues; not me. But my strengths were far from on my side now. The sight felt like a blur and when the shots fired; the amulet fell from the cloth of my pocket. In a moment I felt paralyzed. Was I frozen in the spot because Terrence was shot and currently on our kitchen floor bleeding out, or was it because I didn’t move fast enough. Tackle the guy down from snatching our clue; our artifact.. I was stone cold in the now. Lips pursed forward almost forming an O shape. 

Cleo kept calling me to come over; stop the blood, but I felt paralyzed, I didn’t think, or register that our clue artifact was now gone; I barely caught sight of the older man; the man who caused this chaos leave. My feet wanted to move; but I felt still. A no think plan wasn’t my forte, and I swore I had let myself down and Cleo right now; not to mention the pogues; our lead now gone. Pogue barely made sense of where he was; until his eyes finally blinked and he moved forward; feet slowly until he was able to feel his limbs again. Kneed down next to the brunette shaking palms as he pressed the wound; but he knew it; Terrence was dead; no movement; eyes glanced to his stone cold face; we had bigger troubles. 

A dead body in our house; along with the string of them; this was one problem I doubted we’d fix, In the moment; I noticed a distraught Cleo; and all I could do was place a comforting hand on her shoulder. “ Baby. it’s okay.” Okay? Was I dumb? 

And suddenly all the risk didn’t feel so risky not in our world; a mess, a trouble we constantly found ourselves in.

[scriptofdevilswan]

Healer who echos death

Healer who echos death 

For Camille she was a girl that had the desire to help others. She was a healer; she sat and listened to each person’s darkest thoughts, desires. Cami up until recently had no idea of the earth shattering supernatural that explored the town the city. Vampires being her close friends. Witches, the werewolves just you name it. Clarity is what kept the dirty blonde sane. Did she feel fear when it came to interactions? Some yes; but not with Klaus or Marcel. She felt safer, deep down she could tell Klaus held a soft spot for her. Since he’s been a father. 

And Cami tried to deny it but she loved Klaus, he wasn’t all the awful things the whispers spoke up. He wanted you to fear him; he liked to feel in control of every move. He could be infuriating, but when it came to those he loved; he fought like hell to protect you. Cami was on the receiving end of it once. And that’s where my new chapter my new story begins. Cami was once a human; a normal women who ended up falling for a vampire. Naive to the consequences it may bring. Holidays in the mirror; one night of giving into your emotions. Feelings that you held up inside; but if you were on that balcony, with Klaus his dark eyes looking at you as if you were special. You would’ve allowed the kiss to happen. A longing that pooled into my stomach. One touch sent all my senses tingling. It felt like magic to be in his arms and hold no regrets. To say Cami fell asleep that night soundly. 

A bliss, a joy that filled her veins but all that was cut short when the female woke up. Felt the coolness against her skin. Hand reached up to her neck the exposed skin, and she felt the wet blood, She forced her eyes to lift and see the dark red strains on her fingers. Blood, her neck was slit, when? Had she slept through the pain? She felt a sting of numbness through her body as she swore her expression was wide eyed shock she felt paralyzed now. “ Klaus..” She said and he was rolled over instantly. For someone who wanted to live the answer to the course of action should’ve been simple. Feed on blood and survive, become the thing she once despised despite her being friends with one of the most beneficial families in history. But for Cami it wasn’t simple, she recalled the urging in Klaus’s eyes as he offered up his hand to drink, he wanted me to drink he wanted me to become one of  them. And I was angry how could I get edged in this deep. Damn Aurora we all knew her powers of deceit and it had to be her, her claws she wanted to get into Klaus and Klaus never sugarcoated anything. I got caught in the crossfire. 

A day; of spirling of the burry visions with me locked away in this hellhole in the Mikaelson palace and I felt defeated. It felt as if the choice was made for me. I had morals, I didn’t want to kill to survive, but I also was terrified of leaping into death. How did a healer like myself become the echos of a pending death? Insanity  right? Cami didn’t want to give it, she felt the pain in her mouth; the fangs small attempting to come in. Her senses all heightened as she listened to the mild footsteps outside her door the whispers of Freya and Elijah speaking “ He’s going to lose it, but he has to know he can’t make her do it.” And I heard a few hushes of movement. I felt weak in my own skin, I laid motionless on the slick covers of the mattress. If my eyes closed i’d be gone, do I die or live? Eyes blinked rapidly staring at the ceiling, and I knew a decision was made; for myself, it came down could I still hold power control of myself? Or would I have to feel the looming Mikaelson name over my skin?

[scriptofdevilswan]

Sweet Nothings turned cold.

Sweet Nothings turned cold. 

Dark skies in the air. A brustle of movement as feet trailed against the pavement. A brick of town; far from mayfair; the luxury homes far from the view. Colin was only here for her; to unmask what brewed in the air; an intense tension that filled the darken evening. Why on earth would Pen be here? Why did her carriage take her to a printer? To an unfamiliar sense of territory for us? Colin felt disbelief in himself. A slowness to himself as he felt haunted halted in himself. Her face, the pure shock that he’d found her here. The clothing covering the beauty of her red locks. The clever brave, beautiful Penelope Featherington was a women of decent? A women that I trusted that I loved deeply. 

In the moment it felt like a stranger looking me in the eye. The air gone from my lungs, for a moment my mouth dropped in shock? Betrayal? She was Lady  Whistledown, she was the one that wrote those god awful stories, the details of the Bridgerton name? Of me at the beginning of the season? Of my sister last season. A part of me felt impressed by Pen, her writing that always left me waiting to read her words again. I had longed to read her journeys, to read her letters that made my pulse race. But now I felt like a wave of betrayal, I had no idea what to say besides “ You’re her.” I felt left in the dark, I felt hurt despite all the callings tonight at the party, Eloise desperately wanting to share something with me, and Pen she looked nervous, I was worried for her. And  I was the fool. Secret meetings behind closed doors; with Eloise someone she had a falling out with last season; had my own sister kept me in the lion’s den too? I was the fool to fall hard; to give my heart completely to Pen; who had been my best friend; a longing of desire that pooled in the pit of my stomach. 

And now I felt a wind of coldness, I felt like I couldn’t glance at my soon to be bride without feeling that pain, the ache that had made hillside into my body. Colin was a man of action; the kind of man to stick to his honors; his morals. And he knew the obvious question was weather he intended on following through with the wedding, We were intimate; we loved like no other; the way our bodies danced against the other’s skin. The way my breath hitched exhaling deeply when my eyes traveled merely over her face, feeling the proximity of her presence. It made me mad. So close yet I couldn’t touch. I still loved Pen; but how can a marriage upstand built on a lie? How can one say I do when I was scared for her; I was scared what kind of words would end up in that damn collum. I knew Pen, she probably held her reasons, but was I brave enough to hear her out? Colin had rustled with ideas of her; dreaming of her when his eyes closed was the only way he felt close to her; the brush of our fingers against the other; holding her face in my hands; intense staring of the eyes before my mouth would capture hers. Did I sleep for long? No not since that night. The night I felt like my hopes for us had shattered into a million of pieces. 

Restless of a swirling mind, Colin that morning swore his mother knew he and Pen were off, it’s why she forced him to attend the morning with the Featheringtons. He promised to keep up appearances, despite his mood to lock the doors, and isolate himself. We hadn’t spoken, not that Pen didn’t place the effort to stop me in the hall, but I turned away; I wasn’t brave enough to face her. I felt myself crumbling down. But Colin was a man of his word, the fancy doors opening and he felt eyes zoom straight on him. 

Eyes laced upon him, and despite the heartache; despite the hurt he felt; his aching to protect her; to love her felt alluring, and his eyes gravitated to her; an urge to reach for her hand; but he kept a distance, coldness, until I felt ready to say the words again I love you, itching in his body; for now an easy pace to comfort.

[scriptofdevilswan]

  After the wreckage, 

                        After the Dust

                      I still hear the howling, I still feel the rush

                    Over the riots, above all the noise

                  Through all the worry I still hear your voice

                          After the wreckage, 

                        After the Dust

                      I still hear the howling, I still feel the rush

                    Over the riots, above all the noise

                  Through all the worry I still hear your voice

The cracks of the headache, the forces staked against him. Hardin felt wobbly on his knees, he felt like he didn’t know how to breathe without her. Able to move on when he felt our souls were the same, meant to be. Hardin feared he was slowly falling through the cracks of himself. He told himself he could be better. He told himself he was done with the lies, done with falling back into old habits. He loves Tessa, she was all he thought about. Each time he closed his eyes he heard the sound of her voice. He recalled the touch; the tingling sensation of her lips against his skin, it was wicked how one touch of her fingers trailing along his chest, the way our bodies felt that attachment an addiction to each other. 

An addiction Hardin didn’t want to quit. He wrote the book not to hurt Tessa, he felt the story after her I knew nothing without her. I felt bare like I was lost without her presence. Lost without her; Our story was real and beautiful through the pain through the lies. Hardin wrote down his thoughts; the events that made him want to pursue being sober because of her. Because Tessa made him believe in himself; he was better confident more so because of loving her. But now it begged the question what was I without my muse? Was I able to write another word? 

Tessa she was beautiful, smart, she was gifted, she had a tender heart, she was funny, she made me want more for myself; she was why I decided to pursue writing, to be able to make noise of our story deep inside the pages. Hardin spent months trying; he found himself frustrated at the desk, his sobriety out the window; a glass of whisky by the computer, fingers traced the keys of the computer a countless number of times. A complete blank filled his mind. His lit up phone as his eyes narrowed down to the lit up screen. Her name, the last message an eagerness of moving on. As if Hardin Scott could ever move on from her; his heart ached each time he read the words. A spinning of thoughts; had she moved on? Was Tessa happy? Was our love not enough to deem forgiveness? 

It had been weeks since that message; not that Hardin didn’t have a list of calls out labeled to Tessa over his weeks of traveling, Lisbon, A friend from the past; the first girl he truly wronged, It was Natilie the girl who he once was infatuated with, her laugh; and Hardin liked her; but it was the first bet that haunted him. These weeks on the beach; an attempt of failing, defeated with himself; it was her that helped him recover, to realize the pain; what the consequences of his words; behavior had done not to his own heart; but to hers. The girl he wanted; Tessa; his heart felt broken, hands shaken as he thought of seeing her face again. Racing of beats in his chest. Hardin wasn’t perfect, but he knew how to love deeply, he knew how to hand his heart and soul over to someone, and he asked himself how does he live in this world without her? He doesn’t he believed in us; in a world of forgiveness; a world of feeling her body her soul with his. 

A taunting memory as he sat on his flight; back home, to where his heart still was. Head leaned back, he felt the jitters in the pit of his stomach, yet a content grin played at the corners of his lips. Her face a vision of Tessa in his mind as he closed his eyes; he was coming home for Landon for the wedding he was coming home for her; to heal our hearts. 

A rope of forgiveness; a rope I held on tight of; because I wasn’t Hardin Scott without Tessa Young.

[scriptofdevilswan]

A sea of fear, lands me back with you

Steady hands, the resources we learned dated back to the academy. Kelly Severide made decisions that he knew would jeopardized his future now. In the moment when he climbed himself onto the rig; on the top it was a means of hiding. He calculated the chances of him dodging for cover the second he heard the commotion saw the guns, he swore he had a growing lump in his throat. Severide was a risk taker but in this case he knew had no way of escaping, as if his back was pressed up against a wall. Trapped. 

From that moment the house in between to now felt blurry, as if my body was in fight or flight. Quick thinking; the amustions that my skills guided me, that the crackling of wires helped tell 51 where he was. To help Stella know I was okay. Severide had one thing to fight for which was to keep to his promise that he’d always come home to her. He could never admit to anyone who looked him in the eye but he was scared. One wrong move would land him with a bullet in his skin, a bullet that would force his life to flash before his own eyes. He had pride, but it was his belief in Stella, in house 51 that guided him through these trenches. 

Tied up, a threat looked Kelly right in the eyes, Blinking back the memories of a shot fired at their own men, the man he had shot on defense. Even as his back was trapped, a guy wanting to kill him he was a hero at heart; he walked through fires; he couldn’t let a guy die at his own hands. Blooded hands bore into his skin. If these men who stole our rig; essentially kidnapped me, were killing to aim a bullet through their own man on the payroll what? What would they do to me? That grappling fear shook through his bones. Not that Severide batted an eye. He knew the number from memory; he had Stella on speed dail and if he was going to play risk taker he was always going to call her, proudness of himself now, speaking any annoy detail he was capable of getting out of these crooks, these ambulance firetruck stealers on the  horizons. 

He swore his life kept flashing before his eyes. But this moment; the moment the pickle he landed himself in now. Highways, the tightness of the cuffs that laced over his wrist, he swore he could feel the scars forming. Heart racing feeling that gun aimed at him. Severide had no idea if his move would work. He had sneaky tenacious on his side. His skills pulled him to safety on more than one occasion now. Hands steady on the wheel, eyes darting almost nervously from the high end road; to the man holding the loaded weapon.  A chatter of his teeth as he slowly moved the lighter near, the movement of vents, knowing the flames would give him time, a minute to consider. Heat was felt within the truck, the gunman aimed his gun for him, and he pulled over. He had about 30 seconds before this rig exploded on its own. And he was desperately jammed up now. Cuffs to the wheel, he kept trying to discretely tug on the wheel to no vail. He felt the flames starting to get heavy, in front of his face, taking in the smoke before the explosives, those seconds felt like a blur. One second he was forcefully tugging on the steering wheel for freedom, and the next he was using his own body as a shield to jump. Was it the heat? Or the force that knocked his body tumbling through the air. Steering wheel in hand. 

Impacted, head hitting the ground, the wild smoke in the air. Body felt numb, eyes barely recognizing where he was. Blurry vision on its own. Blood scars on his cheeks, his legs felt wobbly. He swore he couldn’t move. The debris from the impact, he had to use any strength he had to stand. A limb in his step. Eyes barely having full vision through the layers of smoke. He heard vague voices, he only cared about her. Stella. “ Stella.” he echoed out her name with desperation, he had to find her in the sea of smoke. Feeling run down exhausted the steering wheel still in hand as he slowly but fast moved through the smoke; the dirt from the explosion he saw her. 

The fear clear on his own face and her own. A hesitant smile  tugged as his lips as he nearly raced to her. The run down feeling hitting his body as he echoed those words.  ‘ Stell..” Right before his arm came out and wrapped around her, or collapsing give or take. Breathing in as if for the first time, he was with her. In her arms again. A future he wanted for a lifetime. 

As tightly as he could, he held onto his wife; the guiding light to his heart. He witnessed trenches in hours now, but he only thought of her; he only wanted to come home be in her arms again. Like fresh air coming from a storm. His home. 

[scriptofdevilswan]

Home always with you.

Oh home, let me come home

Home is wherever I’m with you. 

Oh, Home, let me come home..

                Blurs of sounds. Rustling of movement entering and closing around him. Peeta had no idea what was real and what was false. All the memories loosen in his head, of spinning circles. The last year swirls of thoughts vague visions that whished through his mind. The capital wanted him as a mutt as a weapon. The true meaning behind the warning each time Finnick enter. Ensuring I was locked away, in the cuffs that kept me guarded under control. I hated feeling restrained, I hated feeling like I was incapable of control. Peeta had always been a follower. The Baker boy who only knew how to design each cake, each perfect pastries. He was never seen as the survivor. 

No one expected him to return alive, he only did because of Katniss. At least that’s what I was told. In my blurred mind the capital were pulling strings, telling me the war, the rebels it was all because of Katniss. She was the rebellious and perhaps that was true. Snow told me I was in danger because of her, I needed to end her life; and each time i saw her face I felt the skin on my body boil. I felt the rage, the uncontrollable rage to hurt her, to wrap my palms around her neck and squeeze until her face turned blue, until her color was drained from her skin, and it made me feel powerful, like I was in charge of my own body again. It occurred in phases. I didn’t want to be a monster, I never wanted to be a toy in those games. 

And now all I was, was a pun in the games. In Snow’s games, I was afraid to ask what was real and what wasn’t. I felt numbness, the slight tingling in my fingertips as we held up in this abandoned building, near the capital. The hunt for the rebellion was on. Our frames pictures on the screen, each capital member would be hunting us down, one by one. Peeta was shaken, he felt out of place. He felt like at any second he was capable of pulling free from the cuffs and hurting those around him, it was suffocating. Finnick was the one that held him back, he was the one that glanced in his direction, and told him to stand down, that touch of comfort, of a friend, as if Finnick understood the hold the capital had. And now all I felt was sorrow because Finnick died in the hands of the capital. It was silence tonight; the fear of being drawn, caught, the game was never ending. Peeta always wished it been him. And Gale and others felt that truth; no one uttered a word. Told to rest; we had a long day tomorrow. And Peeta sat in his corner; palms restrained in the circled cuffs, head pounding, he leaned his head back against the wooden wall. 

Gale and Katniss huddled in the corner; spurs of whispers, Cressida sat besides me, the tapping of her weapon against the floorboards was heard; taking first watch. His eyes batted shut in the darkness, repeating the reminders to himself. “ You keep your windows open.” At night; he did? Katiess had spit out facts; about himself, did Peeta have it wrong? Was the enemy Snow? Was the rebellion the war we needed to survive? Mixed notions; hands rolled into fist as he listened to his own raising and falling of his breathing. In a dream, one that felt real. 

Surrounded by trees, the whistles of the songbirds in the distance, Clothed in game gear, by the ocean, sat Peeta and he felt helpless, he felt like there was no way to survive. Together again, the single peal in his palm as he felt the brunette; the braid instantly he felt her lock of hair brush against his shoulder, Katniss, breath hitched on his skin, and he handed the white peal to her; she was the winner, always had been. A moment of silence in the air as she enclosed her fingers around his own. “ Stay with me.” Always he always would. 

And that’s when he jointed awakened; eyes snapped open adjusting to the darkness. Across the room he saw her; her eyes shut, head leaning against the wall same as him. Blurred in the darkness, I tried to kill her; was all the fights lost? Or would I be redeemable, love, real or not.

[scriptofdevilswan]

When you hurt under the surface,

Like Troubled water running cold

Well, time can heal, but this won’t..

                                    Heal the wounds that you never thought you’d have to bare. The scars of mistrust, the scars of your own sins piercing at you. John B was loyal, once he felt safe with you. Once he believed he could trust you he’d fall. John B wasn’t one who was afraid to fight back, given all the near death experiences he’s encountered in the last year. Reckless fights on the beach with the kooks, the fight for dominance with men who had gun pointed at his head. One blink and he’d hear each gunshot fresh in his mind. 

Blinking back the fear, the fear of his life ending before his eyes. His life halted when he felt like he was in scrambles. He let his dad get in his head; reminding him that the only people Routedge men trust are ourselves. John B tried; he knew the Pogues, he knew Sarah he felt sick to himself lying, throwing out fibs to cover his tracks. And when he was asked “ We’re together right?” Sarah’s vulnerable lowered tone; and instantly in my mind I screamed yes; she wasn’t just with me, she was my wife. But my dad; I felt torn within myself. Trapped against loyalty to the pogues and to my dad, my old man who just emerged out of thin air. I longed to see him, to feel his arms around me again, to feel at home. But now I realized I was wrong. 

My dad got controlling in his body; he only trusted me, and I understood. He trusted Ward, the man he was working with to find the treasure and each time he got burned. He was forced into hiding; he lied to me for a year about his death. It made sense in my head. Yet John B couldn’t stop himself from wondering what if? What if I had come clean about the city of gold to Sarah right then? At the Chateau. Maybe I could’ve prevented the secrets; the being dragged against my will towards my death? Or maybe if we stuck together the consequences wouldn’t of resulted in my father being kidnapped. 

Spiraling thoughts; the what’s the cracked knuckles I wore. John B made mistakes; and maybe it would’ve been easy to admit last night at the Wreck where he made a scene in front of thousands of the island, in front of her was a mistake. But he felt so much satisfaction when his fist collide with his stupid smug face. The whole we’re good, no hard feelings. Was Topper for real? He knew Sarah and I were together and somehow he felt it was okay to hook up with her? John be meant it when he said “ We’re done.” He loved Sarah he would’ve given up it all for her. In the long journey the treasure wasn’t gold it was her. 

And now he felt like every vow we made was a lie. She didn’t waste one night after our fight to go running back to him. In the moment I just cracked, I wanted to shut him up. I made a mess, I should be used to being locked behind bars. In a cell, maybe it was made in my blood to end up here. To pick a fight, to throw punches. When he felt small in a sea of people. John B felt his life crumbling, because he followed down the wrong path. He let love slip between his fingers. And now he blamed himself. 

Anger, betrayal it was playing with his head. The second he felt Shoupe place the cuffs on his wrist he knew; he felt the color drain from his face. He knew he probably deserved the punishment. He had bruises knuckles to prove what he did. He acted out of anger; out of hurt. It wasn’t the answer to lose senses, to lose your temper especially on Topper, we’ve done this dance before. 

My father; his life was hanging in a balance. And here I was stone cold in a holding cell. Seated on the cold mental bench; the male held his hands down in the palm of his hands. Bruised knuckles, he felt opening and closing his wrist. He was furious, he was so mad at her. Everything we’ve been through? Hell and high water? The gold, her family, the insecure that crept in. John B was betrayed by the women he thought was his forever. She ran right back to Topper; fell into his arms, hooked up with him, for what? To hurt me? Because I lied? Because I said something stupid in a moment of weakness? Or perhaps the kook life is what the blonde desired? Maybe we’d only been kidding ourselves. To believe our love was forever. 

To believe A girl like Sarah could love me endlessly, I definitely never saw this future coming. Lost in thought; the male had closed his eyes exhaling a loud sigh; trembling lips when he heard the crackling of chains, the keys into the cell and approaching footsteps. He heard the voice, Shoupe. “ It must be your lucky day, Charged dropped.” I heard it the defeat and the instinct whisper of “ For Now.” Eyes snapped open as I slowly pulled myself onto the balls of my feet. Relief to be free; to help my dad, but each step I took I felt like the aching in my chest was persistent. 

One promise broken? How many more times can I forgive? Are we good? Did I want to be good? Or face the wrath of the fight for gold and my father alone again?