A handy collection of all my fics for ISWM, WKM, and other assorted fandoms!
Don't Wake the Captain
Summary: Head Engineer Mark wakes up in a new universe - but the captain doesn't.
Warnings: major character death
Fandom: In Space with Markiplier
The Missing Piece
Summary: a musing on transdimensional scars and their symbolic meaning
Warnings: descriptions of violence and scars
Fandom: In Space with Markiplier
Tattoos
Summary: Yancy learns something about his tattoos.
Warnings: none
Fandom: A Heist with Markiplier
Out and About
Summary: Yancy is finally out of Happy Trails, and has moved in with the very person who inspired him to take parole. Today, they decide to take him shopping.
Warnings: none
Fandom: A Heist with Markiplier
The Other Kelvina (ISWM series)
Two Kelvinas are Better Than One
Summary: The Captain and Mark meet the colony's meteorologist, aka the resulting brainchild of a fervent discord discussion that started with "wouldn't it be funny if celci had a twin brother named degrees"
Friends New and Old
Interrogation
Summary: Abe meets with the assistant district attorney to discuss a case.
Warnings: none
Fandom: Who Killed Markiplier
A Short Walk
Summary: Damien and friends take a walk in the park
Warnings: none
Fandom: Who Killed Markiplier
Found
Summary: Celine returns to the manor to find a family heirloom.
Warnings: suicide, self harm, blood
Fandom: Who Killed Markiplier
The Obligatory Western AU
Summary: There's a new sheriff in the town of Invincible.
Warnings: gun mention
Fandom: In Space with Markiplier
One Last Smoke
Summary: Gunther is injured while fixing ADS.
Warnings: injury, burns, blood, smoking, death
Fandom: In Space with Markiplier
Stuck Together
Summary: the crew leads come up with a plan to get Mark and the captain to confess their feelings for each other.
Warnings: claustrophobia, panic
Fandom: In Space with Markiplier
Scary Stories
Summary: On a chill night, at the edge of the woods, the crew gathers round for some scary stories
Warnings: asphyxiation
Fandom: In Space with Markiplier, Who Killed Markiplier
Echo
Summary: Echo feels someone new in the IRIS facility
Warnings: none
Fandom: Jacksepticeye/ALTRverse
Muscle Memory
Summary: Dark plays the piano
Warnings: none
Fandom: Who Killed Markiplier
Captain to Captain
Summary: There are infinite universes out there. In one, Gunther was successful in staging his mutiny and stopping the captain.
Warnings: none
Fandom: In Space with Markiplier
The Perfect Gift
Summary: Mark struggles to find the perfect gift for the crew's holiday gift exchange
Warnings: none
Fandom: In Space with Markiplier
Maintenance
Summary: Gunther helps Bandit with a broken cybernetic
Warnings: none
Fandom: In Space with Markiplier
Strange Fluffy Creature
Summary: Allu meets with the captain and holds a bunny, that's it lol
Warnings: none
Fandom: In Space with Markiplier
The Comet Vignettes
Summary: One night, three scenes of budding romance
Warnings: none
Fandom: In Space with Markiplier
One Year
Summary: Mark and Cap reflect on an anniversary
Warnings: characters experiencing derealization
Fandom: In Space with Markiplier
The Deep End
Summary: A character study of Actor and his mindset shortly before Who Killed Markiplier
Warnings: suicide, suicidal ideation, drowning
Fandom: Who Killed Markiplier
Closing Time at the Singing Mandrake
Summary: A short scene based on Stupendium's Fallen London musical, Neath! Cassie closes up for the night.
Warnings: none
Fandom: Stupendium, Fallen London
Invincible
Summary: Gordon is injured, and Alyx needs to grapple with that
Warnings: major character injury, mentions of bugs and needles
Fandom: Half-Life
It Followed You
Summary: After finally disabling the mimic with the code from moon.exe, Arnold is finally ready to head home. The only problem - the mimic follows him.
Warnings: none
Fandom: FNAF: Secret of the Mimic
Final Girls in the Fog (Dead by Daylight collection)
Summary: During a religious crisis, Taurie comes face to face with the High Priestess of Babylon
Fandom: Dead by Daylight
Warnings: canon typical violence, major character death, religious cults, sickness, vomit (its the Plague i don't know what to tell you)
now on ao3!
---
The cycle begins again.
Taurie found herself standing side by side with her fellow survivors. The fog had parted to reveal a dark forest, dotted with ruined stone structures. This would be the stage in which their trial took place, where a disciple of the Black Talon would hunt them down and sacrifice them to the god's appetite.
At the center of the trial grounds was a temple, tall and imposing. While the other survivors ran off into the trees, Taurie dared to enter the temple. At first she looked for a generator, but eventually she found herself searching for something more intangible.
The temple gave her an odd sense of comfort. She ran a hand over the ancient stonework and thought of home. Back when she knew her place in the world, when she knew what was expected of her from her elders and her god.
In a corner of the temple, she found an alter laden with candles and bowls, sitting beneath a gold tablet inscribed with sanskrit. In the low light, it was hard to make out what it said. She recognized just enough to know they were holy words.
She dropped to her knees, and clutched the prayer beads that hung from her wrist.
"Let me serve."
A shaking prayer escaped her lips, a desperate plea for mercy.
Outside, her fellow survivors screamed, finding no mercy in the clutches of the Black Talon's disciple.
From the archways besides the altar, she caught glimpses of the disciple as she methodically picked off the other survivors. She was a tall shadow, slender and graceful. She was draped in silks and gold, a crown framing her head like a halo. From her gold-tipped fingers she held a censur, trailing sickly-sweet smoke in her wake.
Taurie knew if she stayed here, the disciple would find her eventually. She heaved out a sigh, finishing her prayer and sparing one last glance up at the alter.
She reluctantly stood and went back the way she came. As she crossed through the temple's central chamber, she heard someone climbing up the stone steps outside. She ducked behind a crumbling wall.
The disciple entered the temple with the last of Taurie's sorry companions, Dwight, hanging limp over her shoulder. The only sign he was still alive was a weak cough, followed by a trickle of vomit escaping this mouth.
Taurie gagged, clapping a hand over her mouth. She couldn't look away. She just watched as he was hauled onto a sacrificial hook.
As Dwight screamed and wretched, the disciple spoke with a voice like honey. It took a moment for Taurie to decipher the words, but the intent was clear. A prayer to the Black Talon, an offering of blood in exchange for its blessing.
Taurie slowly crept out from her hiding place, hoping to sneak away while the disciple was lost in reverie. She placed a hand on the wall to steady herself, but it shuddered under her grasp. A stone fell and clattered across the floor.
The disciple snapped to face her, eyes narrowing on her next sacrifice.
Taurie gasped in recognition. She blinked, dumbfounded.
This was a face that had been immortalized by ancient artists. A face described in equal measures terrible and beautiful by her most devout followers. A face Taurie had been captivated by since she was young, when she was first studying the history of her order.
Adiris. High Priestess of Babylon. The First Disciple of the Black Talon.
The priestess' grip tightened on her censur's chain. She closed the distance between them in an instant, lashing out with a cry.
Taurie finally broke from her stupor. She tried to dodge, but she wasn't quick enough. The heavy censur came crashing down on her shoulder, jagged metal cutting into her skin as the priestess yanked it back.
Taurie staggered away, raising her aching arms to defend herself. She braced for another attack.
It never came.
Taurie peeked out from behind her arms. Adiris was simply staring at her, brow furrowed. More aptly, she was staring at the prayer beads dangling from her wrist.
"Where did you get that?" she spat in her ancient tongue. "Who are you?"
"I am servant to the Black Talon," Taurie said slowly, awkwardly. She'd studied the language when she was young, but never had to use it in conversation.
Taurie slowly sunk to her knees as she spoke, raising her arms in reverence. She mentally cursed herself for not donning her ceremonial mask, which was still tied fast to her back. Adiris deserved more respect than her disheveled, dirty clothes could offer.
She dared meet Adiris' eyes. She was as radiant as the legends said, the candles surrounding the temple giving her even more of an ethereal glow.
"And servant to you, High Priestess."
Adiris straightened, regaining her composure. Her scowl melted into something more like curiousity. As poised as royalty, she approached. She slowly placed her hand under Taurie's chin, lifting her face to meet hers. The clawed rings adorning her fingers cut into her skin, just enough to keep her from daring to move.
Taurie's breath hitched in her throat. She couldn't believe the priestess would bless her with her touch.
With half-lidded eyes, Adiris took in the brand burned into Taurie's face and neck, the brand of the Black Talon. She traced it slowly, almost tortuously, from her chin to her throat.
She drew in a short breath. Then she coughed, suddenly, violently. Taurie lifted a hand to offer aid. But Adiris only narrowed her eyes at her follower, now her victim.
Adiris wretched. A deluge of bile spewed from her mouth. It hit Taurie with such a force it nearly knocked her over. It coated her skin, splashing into her eyes, her nose, her mouth. The noxious smell burned her nostrils.
Taurie tried her best to remain calm. This was no time to lose her composure, no matter how disgusting the assault was.
But the plague Adiris carried was unnatural, infectious beyond earthly design. The Black Talon had seen to that.
She shivered, already feeling her body heat up in an attempt to fight the sickness. She fell forward, leaning her head against the cold stone of the temple floor. She laid her arms out in front of her, balling her hands into fist.
She gagged. Her stomach was roiling. She fought the urge to expel her own sick as it bubbled up her throat. She swallowed hard, the priestess's bile mingling with her own as she forced it down.
Adiris smiled. She crouched down. Taurie involuntarily shook her head. She didn't deserve to have Adiris stoop to her level.
"Your devotion is admirable," she cooed.
Taurie felt her stomach flip, a strange sense of elation amidst the sickness wracking her body. A shiver ran down her spine.
Adiris placed her hand under Taurie's chin again, bidding her to stand. She obeyed as best she could, legs shaking and threatening to give out beneath her.
"But you have not earned the Black Talon's mercy." Her honeyed voice turned to venom. Adiris suddenly dug her nails deeper into Taurie's skin. She yanked her upward with unnatural strength until she was at eye level.
Taurie let out a strangled cry. She kicked out, trying to regain her footing, but she could barely reach the temple floor. She grabbed at Adiris' hands. It was a bold transgression, but that didn't matter anymore. She was already damned.
The ghost of lips against hers and another wretch from Adiris was her only warning before she was assaulted by another deluge of vomit. She felt the acidic bile burning, cutting her throat.
She was violently thrown to the ground, her head slamming into the stone so hard she saw stars.
She shuddered. She was too weak to move, let alone get up. It was hard to focus. It was hard to even breath as she choked on bile.
The last thing she saw as her vision faded was Adiris, her radiant face framed in gold and candlelight.
In her fading mind, she didn't feel anger, remorse, or even fear. She only felt one thing.
Summary: Yun-jin is attacked by MiNA, and encounters a familiar face
Fandom: Dead by Daylight
Warnings: cuts, mentions of violence
also on ao3!
---
"Magnum Opus!"
MiNA stalked through the streets of the Sleepless District. She twirled the knives in her hands, neon glinting against metal. She chuckled low in her throat.
Yun-jin hid in a dark alleyway, leaning her back against the wall. She breathed heavily, a hand clamped over a bleeding cut on her arm.
She'd been on edge ever since the fog whisked her away from the campfire and abandoned her in this place. It was a twisted version of her home city, a nightmare tailor-made for her. Every poster, billboard, and street sign was a reminder of her past mistakes, emblazoned in neon.
One of those mistakes was stalking her now.
MiNA.
Yun-jin didn't believe it at first. The last time she saw the virtual idol was at her debut, when she was nothing but a hologram.
It wasn't until she felt a throwing knife slice through her arm that she realized MiNa was real, and just as bloodthirsty as the man she was designed to replace.
"Magnum Opus," MiNA repeated in a sing-song voice. "Where did you go? I just want to meet my biggest fan!"
Yun-jin shuddered. She hadn't heard her artist name in so long. In her old life, Magnum Opus was her brand. Her public persona. Her shield. Only her closest colleagues knew her real name. The few allies she'd made in this place used her real name, too. No use insisting on being Magnum Opus when the world wasn't watching.
Hearing it now made her sick to her stomach.
She screwed her eyes shut and held her breath. She listened intently as MiNA's footsteps clicked closer and closer. She hoped she'd simply pass her by.
The sound of a knife slamming into the wall beside her shattered that hope.
"There you are!" MiNA giggled, before breaking into full, hysterical laughter. The sound bubbled up around her, echoing off the abandoned buildings.
Her eyes burst opened and locked with MiNA's, pure gold and glinting with madness. She laughed as she drew closer, poised to strike.
"Ms. Lee!" a voice called out behind her.
She snapped around, finding a figure standing at the other end of the alley, beckoning her towards him. It took her a moment to recognize him.
"Kwon?" she gasped.
Tae-young nodded. "This way, hurry!"
Yun-jin shook off her confusion. She nodded back, running as fast as her legs could take her. Knives flew around her, one catching her across the cheek when she dared look over her shoulder.
The world became a blur of neon as tears welled in her eyes. She didn't watch where she was going, just focusing on following the man ahead of her. She had no choice but to trust he was leading her somewhere safe.
She barely registered when Tae-young skidded to a stop ahead of her, letting her pass by as he slammed into something on the wall beside him.
MiNA was closing in behind them. She laughed and laughed, until something finally shut her up. There was a whir of machinery and something came clattering down from above. MiNa couldn't stop her momentum, and crashed into it.
Yun-jin finally staggered and stopped, legs burning and chest heaving. She blinked, taking stock of her surroundings. They were in an old subway station, open to a tunnel that stretched endlessly into the dark. Behind her, a metal gate separated her from the city, and her pursuer.
Tae-young stood panting off to the side, his hand still firmly on the gate controls and eyes locked with MiNA.
MiNA stood on the other side of the gate, glaring at him. She grunted, rattling the bars. When they wouldn't budge, she leaned forward, her lips curling into a sickly sweet smile. "Tae, you know love to play with you, but I was hoping to have some girl time with Magnum Opus."
Yun-jin shuddered, too out of breath to make a comment.
Tae-young backed away, shaking his head. He leaned over to Yun-jin. "Come now."
With a weary nod, she followed him into the dimly lit subway tunnel.
"Tae..." MiNA crooned. When he didn't turn around, her face dropped into a scowl. Her gold eyes flared. She rattled the bars again. "Tae! Open this gate!" She let out a cold chuckle. "Fine! Leave! I'll find you again, both of you!"
---
MiNA's threats turned to distant echoes, then to silence.
The two survivors limped down the subway tunnel. It was sparsely lit by the occasional flickering lamp, hanging from tile walls coated in grime and graffiti. Dead leaves were beginning to pile up on the railway tracks below, a sign they were getting closer to the forest that everything in this world looped back to. Closer to the campfire. Rest. Safety.
Yun-jin took a steadying breath. She glanced at Tae-young's profile, his face set in that same determined, analytical look she remembered from her past life. Her mind began to spin.
She supposed she shouldn't be surprised, to find someone else she knew in this place. She had seen it happen to the other survivors she'd met. Siblings found each other. Lovers reunited. Victims ran from monsters they'd thought they had escaped.
"So, this is where you've been all this time," she said after a moment.
"Yes," he said, flat. Simply relaying information.
Yun-jin waited for something more. When nothing came, she rolled her eyes. He was never one to cloud the facts with emotion or metaphor. She supposed at some point she found that quality admirable. But the longer she worked with him, the more it got under her skin.
Like it was now.
She was getting irritated, she could admit that. She was tired, her body ached, her nerves were shot. She sighed, lifting her hand to her face. The cut there had stopped bleeding, but it still stung.
Tae-young looked her way. He reached out a hand towards her face. "Are you okay?"
She recoiled, then batted his hand away. "I'm fine."
Tae-young withdrew. "My apologies. I only meant to -"
"Don't. Don't try to comfort me, or whatever it is you're trying to do." Yun-jin turned to him and stared daggers. "This is all your fault!"
Tae-young startled back.
She knew it was ridiculous as soon as she spat it out. Something stupid blurted out of pain and panic.
Yes, Tae-young created MiNA. But it was the executives at Mightee One who commissioned her in the first place.
She knew the MiNA project was trouble from the start. She fought it every step of the way, offended both as an artist and a career woman. But even the great Magnum Opus couldn't stop it. The executives just pushed past her like she was nothing. So she changed tactics. She watched the development carefully, handpicked what data got used. She couldn't stop the project, but she could control it.
That's what the whole venture was about, wasn't it? Control? That's what the executives wanted, anyway. But they weren't here now. As much as she wanted to tear them into bloody pieces, someone beat her to it.
She'd have to take who she could get.
"You just had to make that stupid thing! You took my life's work and twisted it into an artificial monster! " she hissed, voice laced with pure venom. She jammed an accusing finger into Tae-young's chest. "And you didn't just take my work. You took Ji-woon's work! Why, just why did it have to be him?"
Tae-young watched her tirade, shocked speechless. But then, slowly, his wide-eyed stare melted into something more subtle, analytical.
After a beat, he spoke. "You knew."
All her fury was snuffed out by those simple words. She froze in place, her turn to be wide-eyed with shock. "What?" she whispered.
"You knew," he repeated, an edge to his voice now. "That Ji-woon was a killer."
"I... I didn't..." It was a weak excuse, she knew. She hated feeling weak. She looked down, hands into balling into fists at her sides.
"Why didn't you say anything?" He accused more than asked. He threw his arms out wide. "You could've stopped all pf this."
In other circumstances, she would've found it amusing to see the pragmatic man so animated.
"What was I supposed to do?" she said at length. She could feel her nails cutting into her palms. "It would've destroyed everything I built."
Yun-jin dared to meet his gaze. His face twisted up in a look of disgust.
Her shame quickly turned back to anger.
How dare he judge her. He had a perfect life handed to him by his family. He never had to claw his way up from nothing. He never had to scrape and fight and sacrifice for what he deserved.
"You could never understand," she spat.
Tae-young stared at her. "No," he scoffed. "I couldn't."
Yun-jin hated it, but she blinked first. She turned away, wrapping her arms around herself and taking a few steps away from Tae-young. The only sound was the click of her heels against the floor echoing down the tunnel.
She took a breath. They had reached a crossroads, literally. The tunnel split off in two ways. It had to let out at some point.
She picked a direction and stormed off without another word. She didn't look back, even when Tae-young called her name, warned her that MiNA could be after them at any moment, that it'd be safer if they stuck together.
idk if ill write it because im afraid aw2 will directly contradict it but ive had this story idea bumping around in my head since finishing the awe expansion where like. after taking care of the third thing jesse finds herself in the oceanview motel so she stops and knocks on the spiral door. maybe alan is writing or maybe hes sinking again like in the signal but the two of them just. talk. enjoy a moment of peace in the middle of their respective supernatural crises. i think itd be nice
i started an attempt at writing this and i keep writing and rewriting this one scene because i can't find a version that i like and i realize ive just recreated the experience of being Alan Wake
idk if ill write it because im afraid aw2 will directly contradict it but ive had this story idea bumping around in my head since finishing the awe expansion where like. after taking care of the third thing jesse finds herself in the oceanview motel so she stops and knocks on the spiral door. maybe alan is writing or maybe hes sinking again like in the signal but the two of them just. talk. enjoy a moment of peace in the middle of their respective supernatural crises. i think itd be nice
Summary: I'm in love with the current winter game mode so here are three vignettes of three couples enjoying the winter decor
Fandom: Dead by Daylight
Warnings: Severed body parts I guess? It's a reference to the in-game event offering
also on ao3!
---
"This way, my dear," Aestri whispered. She glanced back at Kate, who shivered as she followed her towards the creaking, wooden steps. She took her hand, and the two descended into the basement of Mt. Ormond Resort.
It was as dangerous a place as any, but it would give them a short rest from the harsh trial.
The fog was colder than usual. Even its more arid realms were covered in sheets of snow. Yet, there was an odd sense of warmth, with lights and baubles strung up across the usually desolate structures that dotted the realm. They reminded Aestri of the winter festivals of her childhood.
Kate lit up when she first saw them. She was good enough to explain it all to Aestri. These were the traditional trappings of Christmas, a holiday from Kate's home plane.
Aestri was surprised to find the basement similarly decorated. Lights and garlands lined the walls and ceiling, even the sacrificial hooks that groaned from the rack in the center of the room. Rotting pine trees sagged under the weight of shiny baubles. Crumpled presents dotted the floor, with colorful packaging that couldn't hide the smell of something rotting underneath.
Despite the gruesome twist on the decor, Kate still had a glimmer in her eye. A sad smile tugged at her lips.
Aestri gave her a sympathetic look, and squeezed her hand. "Over here."
She lead them over to a solitary corner, sitting them both down on the floor. She quickly wrapped an arm around Kate, rubbing her bare arms to try to warm her up.
Kate smiled, cuddling in closer to Aestri. She hummed contently, gaze drifting back to the decorations. Her eyes widened as she caught sight of something above them. "Oh my..."
"What is it, my dear?" She followed Kate's gaze upward. Hanging from the ceiling, wrapped in a red bow, was a bundle of severed toes. "Ah. Lovely."
"I think it's supposed to be mistletoe."
Aestri blinked up at the toes. "Ah, well. Of all the things one could say of the patron goddess of this plane, you can't say she doesn't have a sense of humor." She chuckled to herself.
Kate was quiet for a moment. "Do you... not have mistletoe where you're from?"
"It's not uncommon," she said. "I've known druids who use it to focus their magic."
"Oh, well, we don't quite use it for that." Kate looked down, partially hiding her face as she leaned against Aestri's shoulder. "Where I'm from, when two people are caught under the mistletoe, well, they have to kiss. It's Christmas tradition."
Aestri's eyes widened, a grin spreading across her face. "That sounds like a wonderful tradition!"
"I figured you'd like it," Kate giggled.
She looked up at Aestri with a gentle smile, the lights around her twinkling in her eyes. She brushed a gentle hand across her cheek. She leaned in.
The kiss was soft, gentle. Warm.
Kate sighed as they parted, leaning her forehead against Aestri's. The two laid there, content, rested.
---
A freezing wind blew across the remains of the old resort, snow drifts gathering high among abandoned ski racks and picnic tables.
Taurie shivered, wrapping her arms around herself as she trudged through the snow. She couldn't stand the turn in weather. If this trial didn't kill her, the cold just might.
Yun-Jin had been with her when the fog dropped them here. She came up beside her, simply watching her for a moment. "Are you going to be okay?"
"I'm fine," she scoffed. "It's not that bad. You should've seen the weather back in Glasgow."
Yun-Jin side-eyed her, noticing the cultist pull the open front of her vest closed around her midsection. She sighed, slipping off her own faux fur jacket and holding it out. "Here."
Taurie's eyes widened. She shook her head. "I'm fine," she repeated, trying to sound resolute through her chattering teeth.
Yun-Jin rolled her eyes. "Just take it. You're no use to us as an icicle."
Taurie stared at the plush coat. After a moment, she grumbled, snatching it from her hand and shrugging it on.
She was surprised at how soft it was. She already felt warmer as the faux fur glided across her bare arms. She felt herself melt into it, pulling the collar closer around her neck. She smiled warmly.
Yun-Jin smiled back.
Taurie caught herself, looking away and chuckling half-heartedly. "Can't believe you really wear this thing."
She rolled her eyes, seeing the obvious attempt to escape the tender moment. "Let's get moving."
The two took off across the snow, eventually finding themselves in a dilapidated wooden shack tucked away in a corner of the resort grounds.
To the survivors' relief, there was a generator inside. To the survivors' confusion, it was wrapped in fairy lights. The walls of the shack were similarly decorated with ornaments and garlands.
Taurie shrugged off her confusion. She was taught never to question the Black Talon's will.
No sooner had they started repairs on the generator did Taurie feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Heavy footsteps approached in the snow outside.
Both survivors leapt up from the generator in a panic. There weren't many places to hide in the small shack. Taurie acted first, grabbing Yun-Jin's wrist and pulling her into a corner behind a pile of debris.
Taurie pressed her back as far into the corner as she could, Yun-Jin pressing against her chest. She could feel her shivering - maybe from the cold, maybe from the fear. Without a second thought she wrapped her arms around Yun-Jin. It was only right to share the warmth.
Yun-Jin took a steadying breath, leaning into the warmth of Taurie's chest. Her heart pounded, listening intently for the danger to pass. Her wide eyes landed on the dazzling decorations around them.
"Did you ever celebrate Christmas, Taurie?" she whispered.
Taurie raised an eyebrow. "I didn't exactly grow up in a Christian household."
She looked down, noticing the fear in her dark eyes. She sighed, obliging to give her the distraction she was so clearly looking for.
"Uh, but what about you?" She rubbed her shivering arms. "Bet ya threw some massive Christmas parties with your popstar friends."
"No," Yun-Jin sighed. "Not really. I usually spent the holidays alone."
Taurie sucked in a breath. "Ah, well. It's all overrated anyway. The ugly sweaters, annoyin' songs..."
She glanced around, grasping for another example. Her eyes caught a gruesome decoration hanging above her head from a red ribbon. A bundle of severed toes.
"... the mistle... toes? Ugh, that's disgustin'."
Yun-Jin let out a low chuckle.
Taurie beamed inside.
Outside the shack, the heavy footsteps disappeared. Both let out a sigh of relief.
"Thank you," Yun-Jin said after a moment, looking at Taurie's arms around her.
Taurie felt her face flush, glancing away. "It's nothing."
Before she could react, Yun-Jin closed the gap between them, and pressed a kiss to her cheek.
She then pulled away, the ghost of a smile on her face. Without another word, she returned to repairing the generator.
Taurie stayed in the corner for much longer than she meant to. Her legs felt frozen, her mind still trying to catch up with what just happened. She suddenly became very conscious of herself. Of the soft faux fur clinging to her arms. Of the ghost of the kiss, leaving behind a thrilling chill on her cheek.
---
Meg laid her head against a log, basking in the warmth of the campfire. In the strange winter season that had passed over the Entity's realm, she was more grateful than ever for the roaring fire. And the company that surrounded it.
"People mix up mistletoe and holly all the time, but they couldn't be more different." Claudette was sitting straight against the same log as Meg, giving an impromptu lecture on botany. "Holly is an evergreen tree, and mistletoe is actually a parasitic plant."
The topic came up when the two had found a bundle of human toes dangling from a nearby tree by a red ribbon. They both quickly realized it was supposed to be mistletoe, yet another twisted Christmas decoration to join the growing collection that dotted the realms.
"It's pretty easy to identify them once you know what you're looking for. Holly has pointy leaves and red berries, whereas mistletoe has round leaves and white berries." She glanced down at Meg.
Meg slowly blinked, watching the fire.
"There are more differences, but they don't really matter. Next time you look at a Christmas card, you'll see the difference," she trailed off. She was quiet a moment, shoulders slumped. "Sorry for rambling."
Meg sat up to look her friend in the eye. "Nothing to be sorry about." She gave her a reassuring smile. "I like listening to you talk."
Claudette blushed, looking away. "You're just saying that to be nice."
"No, really. When you talk about botany, it's like..."
She struggled to think of how to put it. She wasn't as eloquent as someone like Kate or Aestri. She rubbed her fingers together until something came to mind.
"It's like you light up the room!" She held her hand up in a bright gesture.
The metaphor felt awkward, but it landed.
Claudette looked back at her with an anxious smile and a hand on her heart. "You're too nice to me, Meg. I wish..." she sighed. She fidgeted in place. She could feel herself starting to ramble again. "I wish I could've met you before all this. In the real world, not this awful place. I know it wouldn't have happened. Our lives before this, we couldn't be more different."
Meg smiled. "Like holly and mistletoe?"
Claudette shook her head and chuckled. "Yeah, I guess so."
Both went silent, only the crackling fire filling the air around them. Neither quite sure what to say, but it didn't seem to matter. Something palpable passed between them, feelings long bottled up finally poured out.
Meg was the first to lean in, Claudette quickly following suit. The kiss was slow, painfully so, and awkward. But it was worth the wait.
---
"Are we interruptin' somethin'?"
Claudette jumped. Meg snapped her attention the voice, finding four figures emerging from the snowy forest around them. She hadn't noticed the sound of crunching footsteps before. She scowled.
Taurie was staring at the two, eyebrow raised. Yun-Jin walked up beside her, passing her to find a place to sit across the campfire. Aestri and Kate followed soon after, hand and hand, settling next to each other against a log
Meg rolled her eyes. "Nice coat."
Taurie scoffed. She quickly shrugged off the white faux fur coat, stalking past Meg to plop down next to Yun-Jin. She dropped the coat in the producer's lap and muttered a curt "Thanks."
Claudette cleared her throat. "How did the trial go?"
Aestri was eager as always. She pumped a triumphant fist in the air. "It was our greatest yet! Why, it would make an epic song. It had everything. Acts of bravery, daring escapes, romance..." She shot a wink to Kate.
Kate blushed. "Oh, stop," she said lovingly.
"God," Taurie scoffed, screwing up her face.
"Don't invoke your patron here, girl," Aestri said sternly. She pointed an accusing finger. "Since my retelling is so distasteful, why don't you regale us with your story of the trial?"
Kate put a gentle hand on Aestri's shoulder. She looked between her and Taurie, her calm demeanor calling for peace. "We did lose track of you and Yun for a while there. Did anything happen?"
Taurie felt her face turn red, shooting a look at Yun-Jin. She quickly huffed, crossing her arms and slumping over. "No," was all she said. "Nothing happened."
Yun-Jin looked at her, the slightest smirk on her face. She'd never admit it, but she thought Taurie was so cute when she was flustered. "Mhm," she hummed. "Nothing at all."
Kate gave her a soft smile. "I'm glad we all got back safe."
A murmur of agreement rippled throughout the camp. The conversation turned from the trial, to the snow, to the Christmas decorations, to at last the mistle-toes hanging above them.
"It's disgustin'," Taurie said.
Kate nodded. "Yes, but... oh, I don't know. It's kind of sweet, in a way. It's nice to have a little Christmas magic." She leaned against Aestri, who smiled and wrapped an arm around her shoulder.
"We have to enjoy the little things," Meg agreed. She shuffled closer to Claudette. "Right?"
Taurie took a moment to consider. She glanced towards Yun-Jin. "I guess so."
Summary: Taurie is an outsider at the campfire. Yun-Jin tries to relate.
Fandom: Dead by Daylight
Warnings: hopelessness/pessimism
also on ao3!
---
Taurie sat in shadow. She was far from the light of the campfire, facing the dark, fog-cloaked forest that seemed to stretch endlessly into the night.
Before her was a wreath. It was crafted from twigs and animal bones, bound together with her string of prayer beads. An offering to the Black Talon.
She closed her eyes and held her hands up in reverence. She began muttering in a language forgotten to all but the followers of the Black Talon. She prayed to her god to receive its blessing. To ascend to the role of the hunter. To serve it not as a sacrifice, but as its willing disciple -
"What's she doing over there?"
"Oh, um ... I think she's praying?"
- and to get her away from these idiots.
Taurie grumbled, one eye popping open. She glanced over her shoulder. Three silhouettes watched her from the campfire. They were her fellow survivors.
That's what they called themselves.
Survivors.
What a pointlessly optimistic title. They didn't like being called what they truly were, sacrifices to the Black Talon.
She took a breath, and resumed her prayer.
"Hey! New girl!
"Meg, stop."
"Cut it out!" Meg shouted at her. "If you lead that monster here, I swear- !"
Meg didn't like Taurie, that much was clear. They'd butted heads from the moment she arrived. Taurie was blunt about their situation, but Meg refused to accept their fate. That boundless energy would serve her little here. No one could outrun the Black Talon.
"Meg, please, just leave it," begged Dwight, the so-called leader of the group. A sorry sheep dog leading his flock to the slaughter.
What would that make her, then? Taurie wondered. A wolf, she hoped, only temporarily forced into sheep's clothing.
Taurie rubbed her temples. She didn't even bother trying to finish her prayer, she couldn't focus with those two bickering behind her. She cursed under her breath.
She hated it here. She hated being stuck with these so-called survivors. She hated cowering around a dying campfire, scraping together meager supplies in the hopes of making it through the next trial.
It was all pointless.
She curled up, wrapping her arms around her legs and resting her chin on her knees. She stared down at the wreath. She grunted in frustration and dashed her hand through it. The pieces scattered across the forest floor, disappearing into the tall grass.
Taurie heard footsteps approaching her from behind. She tensed up, preparing for another fight with Meg. She glanced over, but instead of beat-up trainers, she saw a pair of expensive heels.
She looked up, seeing a woman's face framed with silver hair. She was dressed in silk and faux-fur, though her clothes had long since been soiled with blood and dirt. Even under all the grime she still looked poised, and, Taurie had to admit, beautiful.
It was Yun-Jin.
Taurie recognized her, even if they hadn't spoken much. From what she'd overheard, she used to be someone important in the music industry. Not that it mattered anymore.
Yun-Jin just stood there for a moment, hands on her hips, looking out into the forest. Her eyes flickered to Taurie, then to the ground next to her. She frowned slightly, hunching down and dusting away some of the debris with her hand. She sat down.
"Need something?" Taurie was blunt as always.
"No," Yun-Jin replied shortly. "I just didn't want to sit and listen to those two argue."
Taurie rolled her eyes.
Why couldn't she find somewhere else to sit, she stewed. There was plenty of space in the clearing around the campfire. Hell, she could wander off into the fog for all she cared.
Taurie watched Yun-Jin as she began inspecting her fingernails, as if they were freshly manicured. Like her clothes, they'd been ruined by her time in this realm. They were chipped, and caked with dirt.
Yun-Jin glanced past her nails to something on the ground, and raised an eyebrow. She put her hand down, and began digging into the grass.
Taurie furrowed her brow. If this was a habit of hers, no wonder her nails were so dirty.
Yun-Jin lifted her hand, a finger hooked around Taurie's prayer beads. "Is this yours?"
Taurie snatched it out of her hand.
Yun-Jin scoffed, leaning back. "You're welcome."
"I didn't ask for your help," she snapped. She held the string of beads close to her chest.
"No, I suppose you didn't." She turned away in a swirl of silver hair. She stared out to the forest with a scowl on her face.
Taurie squirmed in place. She could sense she had more to say. She glared at Yun-Jin's profile. "What?" she demanded.
Yun-Jin took a deep breath. "I know what it's like," she said at length. She turned to Taurie, but couldn't quite hold eye contact. She seemed to be struggling with this. "To be the odd one out."
Taurie furrowed her brow.
She continued. "When I first arrived, I only looked out for myself. It's how I survived before, it's how I thought I could survive here. I obviously didn't make many friends that way. But I realized - "
"Oh please," Taurie scoffed, putting an abrupt end to her attempt at a heart-to-heart.
Yun-Jin stared at her, mouth agape.
"I don't need another lecture on teamwork. I get enough of that shite from the geek back there." Taurie stood up. She fiddled with the prayer beads in her hand. "It's all pointless, anyway. We'll all be dead soon."
She was about to walk away, but a hand on her wrist stopped her.
Yun-Jin was on her feet and in her face in seconds. She scowled at Taurie. She had no trouble making eye contact now.
"Listen, I can't stand these morons either. But we're stuck together, whether you like it or not!" She drove one of her chipped fingernails into Taurie's chest. "So you need to decide if you're going to die with us, or die alone."
Taurie's mouth dropped open. A dozen retorts died on her tongue.
She was shocked to say the least. She was used to the empty platitudes, hearing how they'd all make it out if they just worked together. No other survivor had been so direct with her.
No other survivor had made the effort. She was touched, in a way.
She took a breathe. "Die with you or die alone," she repeated softly. She turned over the prayer beads in her hand. Despite herself, she chuckled. "Are you volunteerin' to die with me then?"
"Yes," Yun-Jin scoffed, backing away and putting her hands on her hips. "Don't make me regret it."
"Wouldn't dream of it," Taurie said, voice dripping with sarcasm. She rolled her eyes. "We'll be best mates. We can gossip and braid each other's hair." She ran a hand over her shaved head.
"Clearly not." Yun-Jin narrowed her eyes. She closed the gap between them. She ran a fingernail just along Taurie's face, causing her eyelids to flutter. "Maybe we'll do makeovers. Your makeup is awful."
Taurie scoffed, grabbing her hand. The sudden touch made more than her eyelids flutter. "You're one to talk," she deflected.
"About this." Yun-Jin squeezed her hand. "We're all stuck together, whether you like it or not," she repeated, though her tone was less severe this time. It was borderline sentimental. "Even if we won't survive, we can at least make our final days less miserable for each other."
Taurie took a breath. She fidgeted with her prayer beads with one hand, and savored the warmth of Yun-Jin's touch in the other.
Slowly, she loosened her grip on the beads, letting them slip into her robe pocket. She breathed out, "I'm willing to give it a shot."
Orela burst through the trees. She fumbled with the first aid kit in her hand as she threw herself through the overgrowth. Her heart pounded, it felt like it was about to beat out of her chest.
Somewhere behind her, a behemoth of a man growled and shouted. He was chasing her, sledgehammer in one hand, chainsaw in the other. She had put some distance between them, but she could hear him closing in.
Run, she commanded herself. Run and don't look back.
A grunt of pain drew her attention. Against her better judgment, she looked back.
Another survivor pushed through the trees. She was drenched in blood and sweat, plastering her white-dyed hair to her face. She held a hand to her abdomen, her dark clothing torn and bloody. She limped as fast as she could on a mangled leg.
Orela immediately doubled back. She refused to leave anyone behind.
In moments, she was by the woman's side. "Come on, I ain't gonna leave you here." She slid an arm under hers, pulling her upright.
She urged her patient along as quickly as possible, but her muttered words of encouragement couldn't drown out the quickly approaching sound of a revving chainsaw.
She looked around the dark woods, eyes landing on a large, stone outcrop nearby.
Orela lead her patient towards it. "This way."
Her patient couldn't speak, only nodding between pained groans.
They made it to the outcrop. Orela gently laid her patient against the rock, before ducking down behind it herself. She pushed her back to it, and listened as the chainsaw grew closer, and closer.
The brute was practically on top of them now. They could hear his snarling as he rushed past with the chainsaw in hand. Orela listened with wide eyes, glancing over at her patient, who was biting the palm of her hand in an attempt to muffle her labored breathing.
Eventually, the brute yelled in frustration, the sound so jarring it stirred crows from the branches overhead. He threw his chainsaw around, before running off into the forest. The sound of trampling leaves died off into the distance.
Orela sighed in relief.
Her patient let out a pained gasp, before beginning to hyperventilate.
Orela quickly went to work, cracking open her first aid kit. Supplies were low after the run in with the brutal killer, only one roll of gauze and a sponge left over. It wasn't ideal, but she would have to make due.
She rolled up her sleeves and shuffled in front of her patient. "I'm gonna help you through this. Let me see the wound."
The woman shuffled back, gripping even tighter. She looked between the wound and Orela in a panic.
"You ain't gonna die on my watch," she assured. She wouldn't lose a patient. Not here, not like this. She refused. She gently touched the hand clamped to her abdomen. "I've got you."
Slowly, she nodded. Her hand slipped to the ground.
Orela cleaned up the blood and grime as best she could with the sponge. It was completely soaked through by the time she was done. She tossed the dark red lump to the side, it landed with an unpleasant squelch.
She could examine the wound now. It was deep, and jagged. Definitely from that awful brute's chainsaw. Thankfully, he didn't hit anything major.
"Sit up for me." Orela guided her upwards, applying pressure to the wound with her own hand. She pulled out the gauze and began wrapping it around her midsection.
Her patient squirmed in place. Slowly, her breath returned to a normal pace. Still ragged, but not panicked. "Thanks," she said quietly.
"Happy to help." Orela finished with the gauze, checking that it was tight and secure. She shuffled down to her patient's leg. It was bruised and bent in an unnatural way. "I'm going to examine your leg now, okay?"
She nodded.
Orela rubbed her hand slowly and gently down her leg. She reached a bump - that and the sharp inhale from her patient confirmed the worse. "Yep," she sighed. "It's broken. I'm gonna have to reset it if you want to walk out of here."
"Super," her patient groaned, leaning her head back against the rock. She rested her hand over her newly bandaged abdomen. "So, are you a doctor or something?"
"The name's Orela. I'm an EMT," she said proudly.
Orela slowly stood up, looking around the clearing. She'd need something for a makeshift splint. There were plenty of debris around here that could do the job. She set about gathering her supplies. She stooped down and picked up a stick.
"Well aren't I lucky," she chuckled. "I'm Sable."
Orela nearly dropped the stick. "Sable?" she repeated, whipping around. "Sable Ward?"
Sable shuffled in place. "Yes?"
"Oh. Oh my goodness." Orela came and kneeled back down beside her. "I'm sorry, just, wow - I'm a big fan of All Things Wicked. I used to listen to it all the time before, well." She finished her tirade with a shrug.
Sable stared at her, then grinned. "Thank you, I guess," she chuckled. "I didn't expect to meet a fan here of all places."
Orela blushed. "I never expected to meet you, either. Especially after..." She shook her head. She was getting off task. She took the stick in her hand and began fashioning it into something suitable for a splint. "Nevermind."
"After what? After I disappeared?" she teased. She pressed on, her morbid curiosity evident in her cheshire grin. "Tell me, what did you all think happened to me? Did you think it was some psycho killer? Or an evil cult killing me to cover their tracks?"
Orela shrugged. "I'll be honest, I didn't pay too much attention to the rumors. By then, I was already in training to become an EMT. I didn't have time for horror."
She felt a familiar ache in her chest. It was the lowest moment of her life, and it was her fascination with horror that put her there. She vowed never to feel like that again. Useless. Helpless.
She snapped the stick in her hand, in turn snapping herself back to the present.
She glanced over at Sable. Her expression was hard to read, a mix of guilt and disappointment.
Orela chuckled nervously. "But from what I remember, most people thought you were eaten by the Unknown."
Sable softened, chuckling with her. "Now that's juicy."
"Would've made a good podcast episode."
"So the moral of the story is," she said, quoting her podcast outro in the same mysterious, whispy voice she used on the air. "Don't go into the mysterious fog, or you'll disappear into a living nightmare, never to be seen again."
"Just like the Barra story."
"Yeah! Wow, you really are a fan!"
"He's my favorite writer. I always loved it when you talked about his work on the show." Orela sat up, looking at the sticks in her hand. They were the right length, suitable for a splint.
It was time.
She gently placed a hand on her leg. Sable shuddered.
Orela gave her a calming look. "I'm going to reset the bone. Please, keep talking. What's your favorite horror movie?" A simple topic, something to keep her patient's mind busy. She slowly shuffled into place, putting both hands on her leg.
Sable took a deep breath. "Oh, well, it's hard to pick a favorite. I love all the classic slashers. The gorier, the better. But if I had to chose I'd say - "
Orela snapped the bone back into place with a sickening crack. Sable screamed in pain, jolting back against the rock.
She felt a twinge of guilt, but knew it was for the best. She examined the leg again. The break was set. "It'll take some time to heal, but you're gonna be alright."
She leaned back, unbuckling her belt. Using the belt and the sticks she prepared, she fashioned a splint.
"Thanks..." Sable panted, slowly regaining her breath. She gave a wry smile. "Let's get out of here."
Orela nodded, looping her arm around her waist and slowly lifting her to her feet. "I've got you," she reassured.
Sable grabbed the first aid kit, putting her free arm over Orela's shoulder. Orela took her hand, steadying her.
The two limped through the forest, slowly making their way through the thick foliage. They moved quietly. They quite literally weren't out of the woods yet. That chainsaw-weilding maniac could come barreling at them at any moment.
Sable broke through the silence. "Descend Beyond."
"Excuse me?" Orela stopped, giving them both a momentary rest. She gave Sable a confused look.
"You asked me what my favorite horror movie is. It's Descend Beyond."
Orela raised an eyebrow. "The Nic Cage movie?"
"Yeah." She squinted at Orela. "What?"
She shrugged. "No, nothing. I'm just surprised. You always talked about elevated horror on the show and... Descend Beyond was pretty corny."
"Well I liked," she huffed. "Besides, it's the behind-the-scenes side of it that really fascinates me. You know, no one's seen Nic Cage since they finished filming."
"I thought he retired." Orela readjusted her hold on Sable, and began walking again.
"No, he just disappeared without a trace. The whole thing is very suspicious. I was actually working on an episode about it." Sable paused and thought a moment. "You don't think...?"
Orela followed her line of thought. "Maybe." She smiled. "Who knows, I've already met one celebrity out here."
Sable giggled and turned away. "I guess so."
Orela looked ahead, spying a pinprick of light beyond the trees. "There's the campfire," she sighed. She lead them towards it with a renewed sense of hope. "Let's get you off that leg."
"Sure." Sable smiled up at her, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "And maybe we could talk more about horror movies?"
Orela's mouth fell open. She composed herself, and smiled back. "I'd like that."
Description: Kate and Aestri bond over their love of music
Warnings: none
Fandom: Dead by Daylight
also on ao3!
---
"Kate."
Kate stood still, her eyes closed. She held her breath and listened.
Wind rushed through the trees, carrying the sound of rustling leaves and distant crows. There was something else there on the wind. Something melodic. Something familiar and warm.
"Kate."
She opened her eyes, pulled back to reality. Dark trees towered over her, casting long shadows even in the endless night. She lifted the flashlight in her hand, illuminating her companion.
Claudette was crouched among the thick plant life of the forest floor. She looked up, eyes wide behind her glasses. "Kate," she repeated a third time. "Are you alright?"
"Yes." She gave a thin smile. "Sorry, hon. Got distracted."
Claudette nodded. "It's okay." She finished her work, harvesting the leaves from a thorny plant and adding it to a bundle in the open medkit beside her. She closed the kit and stood up. "This way."
The two hiked through the heavy underbrush. Kate let Claudette lead the way. Even with all her time spent in the woods back home, before entering this nightmare, she didn't know much about botany. But she knew their supplies were scarce, so she was happy to help where she could. Even if it was just holding the flashlight.
Claudette stooped down in the underbrush and began her work again. Kate looked around. Just beyond the trees was the flickering of a campfire. Light in the endless dark.
She heard that sound on the wind again. It was clearer now, unmistakable. The gentle strumming of a guitar.
She took a shaking breath. "Do you hear that?"
Claudette froze, her eyes wide. "What? What is it?"
Kate realized how she must sound. It wasn't good to be cryptic in a place like this. "No, nothing like that. The music."
She sighed with relief. "Oh, that. It must be Aestri. She's new around here. She's nice."
Kate was entranced by the sound. She felt a deep longing in her heart. "I think... I think I'll introduce myself. If you don't mind."
"It's okay. I'm almost done here." Claudette resumed her work, picking leaves from the underbrush. "I'll join you in a bit."
Kate gave her the flashlight. She slowly made her way through the trees towards the music.
In the light of the campfire, she saw Aestri sitting with her back to a log, strumming her guitar. The scene reminded her of her time before this place, in her favorite clearing, playing to the trees.
Though, looking closer now, maybe the similarities ended there. Aestri was dressed in bright colors, with embellishments of gold and leather. Beneath her short-cropped brown hair she wore what looked like a gold crown... and pointed ears? Kate certainly never wore anything as elaborate during her solo hikes. But she had to admit, she made the gaudy get-up work.
Snap
Kate stepped on a twig. Aestri jumped, her song ending in an abrupt, discordant note.
Aestri's face sunk with fear. It was the same look Claudette had when she thought Kate heard something lurking in the dark.
"Please, don't stop." Kate held her hands up, moving into the firelight. "I didn't mean to frighten you... Aestri, right?"
She sighed, and smiled. "Yes, I am Aestri Yazar of Greyhawk." She put a hand to her heart and bowed her head. She then held her hand out with a flourish. "What is your name, friend?"
"Kate Denson... of... Pennsylvania." She shuffled in place a moment, before giving a hesitant curtsy. She rounded the fire, gesturing to the guitar in her hands. "I heard you playing. You sound lovely."
Aestri smiled. She gestured to the ground beside her. "Come, sit. Listen."
Kate joined her against the log as Aestri readjusted her hold on her instrument. Looking at it closely, it wasn't like any guitar Kate had ever seen. But Aestri wasn't like any singer she'd ever seen, either.
Aestri began playing again. She sung in a low, soothing voice. Through her song she wove a story of gods and heroes, magic and monsters.
Kate sat and listened. Watching her fingers dance across the strings, she was entranced. The firelight reflected in the silver embellishments of the instrument, and Kate swore she saw visions of dragons and sorcerers swirling about the flames.
"That was lovely," she said dreamily as the song ended. "Like something out of a fairy tale."
"Songs of heroes have always been my specialty." She smiled. Her eyes grew distant after a moment. "Many thanks, for lending me your ear. I've so missed the thrill of performing."
She felt that deep longing again. "I understand. I was a singer too, before all this."
Aestri lit up. "A fellow troubadour!" She sat up, leaning closer to Kate. "Tell me, of what did you sing?"
She hummed in thought. "Oh, a bit of everything. Home, family." She curled up, wrapping her arms around her legs. "Love."
Aestri grinned. "The noblest of things."
"I always tried to speak from the heart," she sighed.
"I have spent my life trading in songs and stories. I know no greater joy than hearing the work of a fellow artist." She held up her instrument. "Please, do me the honor of singing for me?"
Kate looks at the instrument in her hands. She held it like it was the most precious thing in the world to her. She understood that it was.
She still felt the loss of her own guitar. She remembered it slipping from her grasp as that hideous monster dragged her from everything she held dear. She wondered if anyone ever found it, or if it was still abandoned in that clearing. Maybe it was taken too, by another hiker, or even nature itself.
She longs more than anything to have it back. But still, she hesitates.
"Oh, I don't know." She shook her head with a polite smile. "I'm a bit rusty. I haven't played since... well... since I got here."
Aestri thinks for a moment, then shrugs. "I care not."
Kate chuckled. She took a deep breath, taking the instrument with the greatest of care.
She simply held it for a moment. She considered, what would she even sing? She mentally sorted through her catalog, so much of it felt too lively for a place like this. She hummed in thought, a tiny warm-up.
She let her muscle memory guide her, beginning with a simple chord.
She settled on a love song. A ballad, slow and filled with emotion. It wasn't the most exciting song. It never made people to jump out of their seats and dance; no, it would bring a hush over the crowd, who would watch in simple admiration.
That's what happened to Aestri. She laid back on the log, leaning her head in her hand. She smiled and simply listened.
Kate closed her eyes as she sang. She felt a sense of relief flow through her, the pent up longing spilling out with each note. It was almost overwhelming.
She stumbled into the final chord, singing the last line in a voice more shakey than she would've liked. She then just held the instrument, pulling it closer to her chest.
Kate opened her eyes and met Aestri's gaze, her smile even wider now. She sat up and clapped.
"Beautiful," she cried. "Beautiful!"
Kate blushed, setting the instrument down beside her. "Oh, it was nothing."
"Nothing? Indeed!" She said it so incredulously. She shuffled closer to Kate, taking her hand. "Thank you, for this gift of your song. You are truly a shining light in this dark realm."
Aestri drew her hand to her lips, placing a gentle kiss to her knuckles.
Kate felt her face grow even warmer. That was like something out of a fairy tale.
She withdrew her hand, though she wasn't sure what to do with it from there. She ended up turning away, wrapping her arms around her legs again.
A bright light from the treeline blissfully gave her something else to look at. "That'll be Claudette." She was quiet a moment. "Thank you, Aestri. For giving me the chance to sing again." She hesitated, then leaned over, giving her a peck on the cheek.
"It is my honor." Aestri held her hand to her heart. "If you ever wish to play again, I would be more than happy to lend my lute."
She didn't mind the idea of an encore performance. "I may just take you up on that."
Summary: After finally disabling the mimic with the code from moon.exe, Arnold is finally ready to head home. The only problem - the mimic follows him.
Warning: none
Fandom: FNAF: Secret of the Mimic
also on ao3!
---
Arnold was frozen in fear. He stood in a child's bedroom in the abandoned Murray family home, staring at the machine that had tormented him all night, tiny and curled up like a sleeping child.
Eventually, he relaxed. Almost too much. The adrenaline that had carried him for 6 hours - on top of another 36 hours awake - was finally subsiding. His legs buckled, and if it weren't for the killing machine sleeping right in front of him, he would've let himself pass out then and there on the floor.
He forced himself upright, and slowly crept out of the room.
Once in the hall, he sighed, and looked to the data diver clipped to his belt. He had what he came for.
Time to go.
He left the abandoned house, and trudged down the hill to his van.
He fumbled for his keys, but his hands were heavy and awkward in his tired state, so he dropped them. He kneeled down to pick them up, and noticed something in his peripheral vision.
A pair of stubby, mechanical legs.
He let out a gasp and joined his keys on the pavement.
Staring at him was that thing. M2. The "rogue endoskeleton" itself. It must've followed him. It just stood there, watching him with wide, blue halogen bulb eyes. It tilted its head to the side, its arms tightening around its white tiger plushie.
"What -, " Arnold sputtered. "What are you doing here?"
It rocked back and forth for a moment. It then spoke, a squeaky recreation of a young child's voice. "I couldn't sleep."
Arnold stared in horror. He thought he was rid of this thing, that the program that strange computer gave him would shut it down for good. But even still, it followed him. In his tired state, he couldn't even think of running anymore. He just sat on the ground, and weakly waved his arms. "Go... go back to bed. Just go."
M2 shook its head. "I don't want to. It's scary up there."
If he had energy left, he would've laughed.
It looked away, half-burying its face in the tiger plushie. Its voice then changed, mimicking someone older. "Everyone's gone."
Arnold recognized it. It was a recording of Edwin Murray, buried in one of those Helpful stations.
He looked at the small machine. It really did look like a child now. From what he gathered, that's what it was designed to be. A recreation of Edwin's son. And now its parents - if you could even call a computer and a deranged inventor "parents" - they were gone. It had no one.
He sighed, pulling himself to his feet. "Fine." He unlocked the van door and slid it open. "Come on, let's go."
M2 looked up, and he swears it was smiling. It hopped on its little feet, then crawled into the van.
Arnold followed after it. It was already poking around his toolbox, his workspace. It even held up its tiger plush to show it what it found. Wow, it really was like a kid.
He looked to his front seat, covered in garbage - pizza boxes, soda cups, crumpled napkins. The remnants of too many lunches rushed between jobs. It seemed all he ate these days was pizza. Not that he could complain, at least it was convenient to get on the job site and cheap with his Fazbear employee discount.
He grabbed the pile of trash and shoved it behind his toolbox.
He climbed into the driver's seat. M2 followed right behind him, crawling into the passenger's seat. It kicked its legs, looking out the window.
Arnold hesitated a moment. "Um..." He reached across the robot, grabbing the seatbelt and buckling it in.
He buckled himself in and started the car. He was grateful to see Murray's Costume Manor disappear into the rear view mirror.
---
Arnold drove down the same pine tree lined road he arrived on. A short while into the journey, his radio crackled to life.
"-nold? Arnold? Do you copy?"
He fumbled for the receiver, swerving across the yellow line. He righted the van, and looked down at M2 in the seat beside him. It looked up at him and smiled. He held his finger to his lips. "Sssh."
M2 copied his movements, and repeated back the "Sssh."
"Uh, copy," Arnold said into the receiver.
"Arnold!" The dispatcher cried in amazement. A rare hint of emotion behind his usual corporate-approved demeanor. "There you are, we've been trying to reach you all night! What happened?"
Oh nothing, he thought in his tired stupor. Spent 6 straight hours being chased by a murderous robot. But it's okay now, I turned it into a kid. Yeah, a computer lady helped me do it. After she stopped pretending to be you, that is. I didn't even realize it wasn't you because she got your grating voice down pat, you pompous as-
"I got the schematics," was all he actually said.
"Great! The motion sensors have gone quiet, does that mean you were able to deactivate the endoskeleton?"
Arnold looked at the passengers seat. "Yeah."
"That's amazing," the dispatcher said smoothly. "We'll check back in on Monday to finish out the job. Keep that data diver safe until then. Enjoy your weekend, you've earned it."
Not much of a weekend, he thought. It was 6 am on a Sunday. But any time off would be welcome at this point.
---
Arnold pulled the van into his driveway. His single-story house seemed miniscule compared to the high-tech manor he'd been in earlier, but it was home.
He looked at the robot in his passenger's seat. It eagerly looked out at the neighborhood outside the window.
Arnold crawled out of his seat, and quickly shuffled M2 inside. It was early morning, so no one was around. He just hoped no one was watching from the other houses.
He closed the door behind him, kicking off his work boots. He watched the little robot begin exploring the house, but his eyes could barely stay open. He yawned. "Just... don't break anything," he muttered.
He shuffled off to his bedroom, leaving his work gloves, jacket, and belt in a trail behind him. He plopped the data diver on his nightstand and collapsed into bed.
The moment his head hit the pillow, he was fast asleep.
---
Arnold startled awake to loud music blaring from another room. He blinked his eyes, still groggy. He rolled over in bed and grabbed his alarm clock. It was 3 o'clock in the afternoon.
He sat up, scratching his head and yawning. He rolled out of bed and shuffled into the living room, looking for the source of the music.
There was M2, clutching its tiger plushie with halogen bulb eyes glued to his TV. It was watching some kids' show, with a band of cartoon animals singing a song about how the real treasure is friendship.
He blinked.
Oh.
So that wasn't a dream. He really did bring that thing home with him.
Before he could catastrophize about what he'd done, his stomach rumbled. Keeping his eyes on the little robot, he crossed the living room, and entered his kitchen.
He heated up some leftover pizza and sat down at the kitchen table. It looked like M2 had been here, too. The notepad and loose pens he kept in the junk drawer were laying on the table. A few pages were ripped out and covered in what looked like a child's drawings. He supposed, in a way, they were a child's drawings.
He sifted through them while he ate. They were mostly of the Murrays' characters - the white tiger, the elephant, that creepy clown girl. One drawing caught him off guard. It was M2, holding hands with a crude drawing of Arnold.
He felt a tug at his heartstrings.
He stared at it for a long time. His pizza got cold.
---
Arnold still didn't know what to think of the tiny robot he'd brought to his house. He tried to distract himself with chores. He cleaned the trash out of his van, put his dirty work clothes in the laundry, and now he was vacuuming. But the noise did nothing to drown out his thoughts.
This thing killed people.
It tried to kill him.
It wasn't even human.
And yet, it acted like one. It explored and watched cartoons and drew pictures. It was a kid.
He sighed, turning off the vacuum. It was nighttime now and he was still tired. He ate some cold pizza for dinner, then went to go sleep.
He found M2 standing behind him and jumped. Even in its kid form, it was always sneaking up on him.
It too looked tired, if it was even capable of being tired. Its eyes had dimmed, and its head drooped.
He thought for a moment. It had a bedroom before, in that creepy old house. Maybe it did need to sleep like a human. Hesitantly, he stooped down to the robot. "Is it... your bedtime?"
M2 nodded its head, and even mimicked a yawn.
"Okay..." He lead it down the hall, to the den. He didn't use this room often. It was more aspirational than anything. There was a shelf full of books he hadn't read, and a desk ready for all the projects he never started. But most importantly at this moment, there was a bed in the corner for guests he rarely hosted.
The robot crossed the room, and crawled into bed. It kicked its feet, before rolling over and cuddling its tiger plushie. "Goodnight," it said, in its mimicked child voice.
"Goodnight," Arnold said back. "Uh... sleep tight."
He closed the door behind him. He paused in the hallway. This was all so, so strange, he thought. He shook his head, walking off to his own bedroom.
---
Arnold awoke the next morning to his alarm going off. He flipped over in bed, blindly slamming his fist into his alarm clock.
He sat up in bed, rubbing his face. He had to get ready for work. He opened his eyes, and found M2 staring at him from the doorway.
He jumped.
It waved. "Good morning!"
He rubbed his face again. "Good morning," he grumbled.
It smiled, then padded off down the hall. Moments later, he heard the TV turn on.
He was suddenly very, very awake.
He couldn't just leave this child... robot... thing alone all day. What if somebody saw it? What if it wandered outside?
But he couldn't skip work, either. He didn't have any sick days saved up.
He got out of bed, and started pacing. He eventually opened his closet, pulling out his work clothes. His eyes flickered down to a cardboard box shoved to the back. His mom had dropped it off on her last visit. It was filled with old mementos and clothes from his childhood.
It gave him an idea. A really stupid idea.
---
Arnold was dressed for work. And M2 was dressed, too.
Arnold had bundled it up in his old clothes. Under all those bulky layers, it almost looked human. "Okay," he said, placing a baseball cap on its head. "What do you think?"
It looked at itself in the mirror. It hopped up and down. "I like it!"
He sighed in relief. "Good."
It smiled up at him. He frowned slightly. There was no hiding that robotic face. Unless... "I've got one more thing for you. Wait here."
It nodded, and plopped down on the floor in front of the mirror.
He walked outside to his van, and dug around in the cabinets in back. They were filled with random junk from his jobs with Fazbear Ent. He pushed aside old arcade machine parts and the broken arm of an animatronic to find what he was looking for - a box of defective prizes. He grabbed the whole thing and took it inside.
He dropped it on the floor in front of M2, who joined him in rummaging through it. The robot was clearly more interested in the toys, the broken figurines and torn plushies. Arnold instead went for the masks. They had cracks and broken strings, but would be easy enough to fix.
He pulled out a Chica mask. He remembered the old Chica costume back at MCM, the harrowing chase though a maze of cubicles and mailboxes. He shuddered. He was pretty sure he'd never be able to hear the sound of rollerskates the same again.
He held up the mask to the little robot. "Here, you like Chica, right?"
M2 gasped, bouncing excitedly up and down on its knees.
---
Arnold pulled his work van out of the driveway, M2 sitting beside him. It was now fully disguised in Arnold's old clothes and the Chica mask.
Right on schedule, the radio crackled to life. "Arnold, this is dispatch, over."
"This is Arnold."
"We got a request for a technician over at the flagship Fredbear's location. Their kiddie carousel broke down. Should be a pretty simple fix, especially compared to your last job," the dispatcher sounded as smarmy as ever. "Speaking of, you can go ahead and drop off that data diver at the manager's office once you get to Fredbear's. They'll take it from here."
"Got it," Arnold said.
"Amazing," the dispatcher said, before disconnecting.
---
The van pulled into the parking lot of Fredbear's Family Dinner. Arnold grabbed his toolbox and stepped out, M2 stepping out next to him.
It hopped up and down, pointing excitedly at the neon sign depicting the bear himself.
"Remember what I said, stay close to me." Arnold held out his hand.
M2 nodded. It took his hand and gave it a squeeze.
He took a deep breath, and lead it inside.
Inside the pizzeria was a cacophony of sights and sounds. Even in the morning, packs of laughing children ran around the arcade, clambered around the prize counter, and sat in the dining area eating pizza. Music poured from the stage, where the animatronic duo of Fredbear and Spring Bonnie lip-synced to the latest pop music.
He felt M2 tug at his hand. He looked down to see it pointing at the band. "Uh... we'll watch the show after we're done."
M2 in tow, he turned into the arcade. They passed through rows of arcade cabinets and kiddie rides to a pair of doors labeled "Employees Only." He'd finally he able to get rid of the data diver burning a hole in his toolbelt.
Just as he went to open the door, someone opened it from the other side. He stepped back as a man stepped out. He was tall with pointed features, and wore a purple tie to match the pizzeria's mascots. Arnold recognized him from photos that hung in just about every location.
"M-Mr. Afton!" He blurted out.
The company's co-founder chuckled. "You must the technician I've heard so much about - Arnold, right?" He reached out and took his hand.
"Oh - um," Arnold started, fumbling into the handshake. "You've heard of me?"
Afton smiled, far too wide. It reminded Arnold of the smile you'd see on a mascot costume. "Of course, I make it my business to learn about all my employees." His eyes flickered down to M2, who stared up at him with bright, blue eyes. He raised an eyebrow. "And who's this?"
"Um... this is my... nephew." He sputtered. "Uh, not really nephew, per-se, more of a kid of a family friend. I'm watching him today. Uh, will be watching him for a while, really."
"I see." Afton stooped down to M2's height. "And what's your name?"
Arnold froze. "Uh..." They never decided on a name. He braced for his lie to all come crashing down.
"I'm David," M2 answered.
Afton's eyes went wide for a moment. He furrowed his brow, then relaxed back into his wide smile. "Hi David, I'm William. It's nice to meet you."
Arnold sputtered, then cut in. "I hope this isn't a problem. It was sort of last minute."
Afton just stood up. "It's no trouble at all. My children are here today, too. What better place to for the kids to spend the day?" He chuckled.
Arnold nervously chuckled with him.
"In fact," he continued. "You look about my eldest's age." He looked around the arcade, eyes landing on a group of children crowded around the skee-ball machines. "Michael, come here," he called.
A boy wearing a Foxy mask pulled away from the others. He quietly walked up, sheepishly removing the mask. He was the striking image of his father, 20 years younger. "Yeah?" he grumbled. He clearly wasn't happy being called away from his game.
"Michael, this is David. His uncle and I have important grown-up things to discuss, would you mind playing with him for a while?"
Michael looked at the other child and hesitated, a sneer still lingering on his face. M2 pointed at the Foxy mask in his hands. "I like your mask."
Michael relaxed. He gave a small grin, and put his mask back on. "Come on," he said, leading him over to the skee-ball machines. In no time, they began playing together.
Arnold unconsciously held a hand out to stop them. He knew its disguise was a flimsy one. "Be safe!" he called after it.
Afton chuckled. "It's always hard seeing them go off on their own." He clapped Arnold on the shoulder. "Come on, let's discuss your last job."
Arnold had hoped to simply drop off the data diver and move on. But Mr. Afton left no room to refuse. He let him lead him into the back office.
Afton easily settled behind the desk. He gestured for Arnold to sit in one of the folding chairs across from him. Once he sat down, Afton held out his hand. "The data diver, please."
"Oh, yeah." Arnold twisted to the side, pulling the diver off his toolbelt. "Here."
Afton took it eagerly. He turned to the blocky computer on the desk. He opened a drawer, pulling out what looked like a crude recreation of a data diver port. He plugged that into the computer, then plugged the diver into the port.
There was a beep, and the files appeared on the computer screen. He smiled, wide and toothy. "Excellent. Good job, Arnold."
Arnold shifted in his seat. "Yeah, it's all there." He slowly started to rise. "Now I have to go, the carousel is-"
Afton held up a hand, commanding him to sit down. "The carousel can wait. I want to hear about the job. The endoskeleton, the one from these schematics. What happened to it?"
Arnold swallowed a lump in his throat. "It - it was destroyed." He hoped he sounded convincing. "The place was practically falling apart. It got crushed under the rubble."
He sat back, folding his hands together. "I see," he said at length.
"Was that all, or...?"
Afton shook his head. "No. I need to ask, did you take anything? I wouldn't blame you, the Murrays created a lot of wonderful things, and it'd be a shame to leave it all rotting in that old building. But anything taken from the MCM premises is legally Fazbear Entertainment property. So if you took any souvenirs... they'd need to be returned promptly."
"No - no, sir," he sputtered. "Trust me, I don't want anything to do with that stuff."
Afton raised an eyebrow. He just stared for the longest time.
Arnold squirmed under his cold gaze.
Eventually, he relaxed. "Good." Afton sat back, and began to reminisce. "You know, the Murrays were friends of mine. They were such brilliant creators. But Edwin, well, he was a terrible businessman. He just let it all fall apart. Such a shame..."
He then smiled, all too wide. Again he reminded Arnold of a mascot costume. A wide smile, but with blank eyes and empty insides.
"Thanks to you, we'll be able to send full reclamation team out to MCM. All that brilliant work won't go to waste."
"Uh... good. That's good." Arnold shifted in his seat. "Will I be...?"
"Assigned to the reclamation team?" Afton finished. "Maybe, the logistics of the project still needs to be worked out. You certainly have the expertise for it. But I understand your circumstances have changed since your last job. You have a child to take care of."
Arnold relaxed slightly. "Oh?"
"I'm a father. I understand how difficult it can be juggling work and family." He smiled, standing and holding out his hand. "So, I won't hold you up any longer. I'll put in a word with dispatch, make sure you schedule isn't quite as grueling. You've earned it."
He sat there, dumbfounded. "Oh, uh..." He jumped to his feet, and shook his hand. "Thank you, Mr. Afton."
He chuckled again. His eyes flickered back to the computer screen. "Thank you, Arnold."
---
Arnold stepped out of the office feeling strange. He certainly felt a weight off his shoulder. He'd finally cleaned his hands of that awful job, and would be rewarded with an easier schedule.
But he felt a new weight settling around him. Afton's words echoed in his head.
You have a child to take care of.
He really hadn't thought ahead when he brought M2 home. He had just reacted.
He never planned to have a kid to care for. It was just another aspiration he never got around to - maybe some day, if he met the right partner. And this certainly wasn't the kind of kid he thought he'd ever have. Who plans to have a robot child?
Edwin Murray, he thinks wryly, that's who. But Edwin's... dead, probably, because even he didn't know what to do with this thing.
Arnold blinked. Where was M2 anyway? He felt panic grip him as he wildly looked around the arcade.
The moment of panic passed quickly though, as he saw M2 standing at an arcade cabinet with Michael. Both held rubber mallets, and excitedly slammed down at tiny rabbits as they popped out of the cabinet. M2 was doing well. A little too well for Arnold's comfort.
He walked over as the game buzzed and stopped.
M2 didn't notice him at first, high-fiving Michael before ducking down to grab the tickets pouring out.
"Hey... David," he said the name slowly. He wasn't quite comfortable calling him that. Wait, him? When did he start thinking of this thing as him?
M2 jumped up, hands filled with tickets. "Uncle Arnold! Look!"
Oh. He didn't tell him to call him that. He felt that tug at his heartstrings again. He smiled. "Good job."
M2 hopped up and down. He looked to Michael, then back at Arnold. "Can I keep playing?"
"Yeah, I still have to fix the carousel. I'll come get you when I'm done, okay?"
He nodded. In a blink of an eye, he was running off with Michael again, clambering around the next open game.
---
Arnold stooped down inside the carousel, surrounded on all sides by smiling, plastic animals. He tried to ignore them as he opened up the hatch in the middle. Looks liked the fuses had burned out, and the circuits were fried.
He flipped open his toolbox, finding some replacement fuses. It would be a quick repair, but it was slow going. He couldn't stop looking over his shoulder to watch M2.
He saw M2 and his new playmate had abandoned the arcade cabinets for a game of tag. They raced between the rows of games at breakneck speeds. They were laughing. They were having fun.
Michael was "it", running fast after M2. He caught him, shoving him hard. Too hard.
M2 stumbled forward, falling to the ground. The Chica mask fell away, bouncing across the floor.
Arnold dropped the fuses in his hand. "Oh no," he muttered. He jumped to his feet and clambered off of the carousel. "No, no, nonono -"
Michael stood over M2's prone body, eyes wide behind the Foxy mask. "Hey, are you...?"
M2 suddenly sat up, clapping a hand over his face. He began to whimper, and ran off. "Uncle Arnold!" he wailed, colliding with Arnold just as he reached the arcade floor.
"Hey!" Arnold exclaimed, as the heavy metal endoskeleton hit his knees. He felt a pit in his stomach as he heard M2 begin to cry. He didn't know if he was just mimicking the sound to cover his face. He didn't care. He comforted him all the same. "Hey, you're okay. You're okay." He patted his back.
Michael came up moments later. He held the Chica mask in his hands, and looked at the floor. "I'm sorry," he muttered, holding out the mask.
Arnold took it. He placed the mask over M2's face, careful to keep his exposed, robotic face hidden. "Is that better?"
M2 slowly nodded. He turned to Michael, and nodded again. "I'm okay." He then suddenly tapped the boy on the shoulder. "You're it!"
He ran off. Michael laughed, and chased after him, shouting "No fair!"
Arnold watched them run off. He took a deep breath. Crisis averted.
---
Arnold finished the repairs on the carousel. He found M2 alone at the prize counter, cashing in his tickets. The girl at the counter handed him a plushie of Fredbear. He grabbed it eagerly and pulled it to his chest.
"Hey," Arnold said. "I'm all done here. Let's go."
M2 blinked up at him, then shook his head. "We'll watch the show after we're done," he said, perfectly mimicking Arnold's voice.
"I did say that, didn't I?" He sighed. "Alright, but we're leaving when it's over."
M2 hopped up and down. He took Arnold's hand, and dragged him towards the show area.
After a quick pitstop at the pizza counter, they settled at a small table right in front of the stage. The lights dimmed and spotlights shown on the animatronic band. M2 clapped as music poured from the stage speakers.
Arnold chewed on a slice of pizza, watching him with a gentle smile.
He never planned for this. He supposed he'd handle it like he did any other job, react to what came next.
Summary: Gordon is injured, and Alyx needs to grapple with that (aka my first hl fic. It takes place near the end of HL2 ep2 following the stalker fight)
Fandom: Half-Life
Warnings: major character injury, bug + needle mentions
also on ao3!
---
Gordon pulled the car outside White Forest base to the sounds of cheering rebels. He clambered out and entered the base. The rebels crowded around him, clapping him on the back and pumping their fists.
With the Combine's last desperate assault against the resistance averted, they were free to enact their own final assault - sealing the portal above City 17.
"Vital signs critical - seek immediate medical attention."
No one else seemed to hear the HEV suit's automated warning. Gordon didn't even need to hear it, he felt it. The mad fight against the Combine's invading force had left him fatigued.
At some point, Alyx had joined the celebration. "Wow, Gordon. You were amazing out there," she said. She beckoned him to follow her. "Come on."
He smiled at her arrival. He straightened up, pushing through the warnings the suit and his body were giving him. He still had work to do.
He followed her deeper into the base. As they rounded a corner, he felt lightheaded. He stopped, putting a hand against the wall to steady himself.
Alyx turned, her easy smile melting into a frown. "Woah, are you okay?" She went over to Gordon, placing a hand on his shoulder.
He put his free hand up, signaling he was fine.
That did nothing to soothe her worries. Alyx furrowed her brow, eyes darting to a blinking light on the back of the HEV suit. "I've never seen that before..." she mumbled. She looked down at the multitool on her belt, then back at the suit with a frown. "Listen, I don't know much about how this thing works. Let's get you to Dr. Kleiner," she said decidedly, snaking an arm under his and helping him up.
She lead him through the base in silence. Gordon let himself lean on her as they went.
They arrived at the rocket launch site, where the remnants of Black Mesa's Anomalous Materials department were hard at work. Dr. Kleiner and Eli worked at a console, Magnusson watched over their shoulders from a monitor on the wall.
"Dr. Kleiner," Alyx said, trying to hide the worry in her voice. "We need your help."
Kleiner and Eli looked up from their work. "Alyx, what is it?" Kleiner said.
Eli was already walking over, eyes darting between Gordon and his daughter. "Sweetheart, what's wrong?"
"It's Gordon." She looks over at him, readjusting her hold on him. "I don't know what happened but... I think something's wrong with the HEV suit?"
Kleiner rounded behind them, taking a look at the back of the suit. "Hm, it's hard to tell. We'll have to do a full diagnostic."
"Is that really the most pressing matter?" Magnusson chimed in.
Eli grumbled. "He's right. Let's get you out of this thing, Gordon. We'll run the diagnostic after the launch."
Gordon nodded.
It felt odd, after so much time, to not be wearing the HEV suit.
He took a step forward, his movements quick and jerky, still used to compensating for the bulk of the suit. He staggered, and a sharp pain shot through his leg. He became lightheaded again, but this time his vision began fading. He wobbled, and fell to the floor.
"Gordon!" Alyx immediately skidded to her knees beside him.
He heard some yell "Get a medic!", before everything went black.
---
Alyx paced outside one of the base's medbays. She hugged her arms around herself. She really shouldn't be so worried - the rocket launch was a success, there was a team headed to the arctic to help Mossman, her family was safe. For the first time in years, humanity had hope for a free future.
But she couldn't relax. Not with Gordon still unconscious.
The door opened and Eli stepped out. Alyx took the opportunity to look into the room. She only caught a glimpse of Gordon lying in a cot, surrounded by medics, before Eli shut the door behind him.
"What's happening, dad?" She spoke quickly. "What's wrong with him?"
"He'll be fine," he said. "The medics are still looking into the extent of his injuries. The readout from the HEV suit listed multiple lacerations and fractures, among other things."
"How is that possible? I mean, I know we both got pretty banged up, but he was fine!"
Eli looked at her, patient as always. "The HEV suit administers morphine whenever the person wearing it suffers an injury. It was designed as a short-term solution for injuries sustained during testing. No one at Black Mesa ever expected it to be worn in an active warzone for weeks at a time. I'm guessing as soon as the suit came off, all of those injuries caught up with him."
Alyx nodded, understanding. She was silent for a moment, then asked. "Can I see him?"
"Not yet, sweetheart." He patted her shoulder. "Why don't you go get some rest. Considering what you've been through the last few days, I'm surprised you're not out cold with him."
She managed a half-hearted smile. "Okay, dad. Let me know as soon as he wakes up."
"Will do."
---
Alyx couldn't get much rest. She turned over in her cot, screwing her eyes shut in another attempt at sleep.
"He'll be fine," she repeated under her breath. The medics were on it, he'd be on his feet in no time.
She turned again. She then sat up, and put her head in her hands. She finally sighed in defeat, opening her eyes and throwing back the covers. She need to clear her head.
Again, she found herself pacing the halls of White Forest.
She eventually wandered into the mess hall. A few people milled about, enjoying whatever meager rations the resistance had on hand. It would be good for her to get something to eat, she figured. She walked over to a storage crate and pulled out a ration pack.
"Did you hear what happened to Freeman?"
She froze. She looked over her shoulder and saw a pair of rebels talking at one of the tables. So, word of his condition had gotten out to the base. News traveled fast in the resistance, especially where Gordon was involved.
"Yeah," his friend replied solemnly. "I thought he was invincible."
Alyx dropped the pack in her hand. She didn't feel like eating anymore.
She walked out of the mess hall. She wouldn't stand around listening to the gossip. She stopped in the hallway, leaning against the wall and crossing her arms.
I thought he was invincible.
Had she thought the same? Maybe that's why she was so anxious. She'd fought with Gordon for weeks now, and yet she never noticed how badly he was injured. Even today when he stumbled right in front of her, she'd thought it was just a malfunction of that stupid suit - !
She sighed.
She supposed part of her still believed the legend. The One Free Man. The unstoppable force who fought through Black Mesa with nothing but a crowbar. But that legend just crumbled before her very eyes.
She sat up as someone else came out of the mess hall - a vortigaunt. She involuntarily placed a hand on her abdomen, and got an idea. "Hey!"
The vortigaunt stopped. "Ah, the Alyx Vance."
"Yeah, hey," she said, walking up to them. "So... have you heard about what happened to Gordon?"
"Yes," they said sadly. "We are aware of the Freeman and his injured state."
"Can you help him?" She blurted it out without any build up. No point trying to be subtle. "Like you helped me?"
The vortigaunt looked down and shook their head. "We cannot. To heal the Freeman would require the larval extract."
"We could go get some! It's a little far, but I'm sure we could get there quickly if we take the car -"
They held up their hand to stop her from rambling any further. She trailed off, and frowned.
"Even so," they said. "We cannot risk diverting the Vortessence to heal such small injuries. We must remain vigilant to threats to the Freeman."
Alyx furrowed her brow. That was... ominous. But it wasn't uncommon for vortigaunts to say something ominous without explanation. They were odd like that.
The vortigaunt clasped their three hands together. "Worry not, Alyx Vance. The Freeman will heal in due time."
She slumped her shoulders. There wouldn't be a quick fix for this. All she could do was wait.
She didn't like that.
Alyx was always a woman of action. She had to be - her whole life was spent running and fighting. She wasn't one to wait around for anything.
She walked off, determined to find something she could do, though she wasn't sure what yet. Even if she couldn't help Gordon, she was sure she could put her restless energy to good use somewhere else.
---
Gordon's eyes opened. He blinked a few times, squinting up at the gray blur that was the ceiling. He sat up with a groan. His whole body ached. His leg was stiff, and he felt a pin prick at his arm.
Groggy and sore, he patted around for his glasses. Eventually he found them on a crate beside him. He put them on and blinked a few times. The room came into focus.
He was in a small concrete room, lying in a cot under a thin blanket. There wasn't much in the room besides the cot, just a few medical supply crates and an old desk chair.
There was a medkit sitting on the crate next to him. Medical tubing pumped neon green liquid from the near-empty cannister on its side into his arm. He shuddered at the makeshift IV, noticing the crushed remains of an antlion grub floating inside the cannister.
He inspected himself. His arms were covered in bandages and bruises. He shifted, pulling back the blanket to see one of his legs in a splint.
The door opened, stealing his attention. He suddenly felt on edge - he wasn't used to being in such a vulnerable position.
It was one of the medics. She visually brightened when she saw him. "Dr. Freeman!" she said with a smile. She leaned out of the door and called to someone behind her. "Dr. Vance, he's awake!"
The medic came into the room and began fiddling with the medkit. With a click, she removed the grub cannister, and replaced it with a new one.
Eli came in after her. "Gordon, good to see you're awake." He pulled up the chair to sit beside him. "You gave us quite a scare yesterday."
Yesterday... how long had he been out? Against his better judgment, he tried to get out of bed. He winced as pain shot through his body.
"Woah," Eli said, putting his hands up. He and the medic shared nervous glances. "Settle down, son. Everything is alright."
Gordon sighed. He settled back into the cot. The medic shared another unspoken exchange with Eli. They nodded, and she exited the room, leaving the two alone.
"Don't worry about the rocket, or the Borealis, or any of it. We've got it taken care of. You need to rest. You've taken quite a beating." Eli frowned. "I'm sorry I let it get this bad, Gordon. I didn't think about the toll that suit would have on you."
He waved him off. He wasn't to blame for all this.
Eli stood up with a groan. "Get some rest. You deserve it." He put his hand on his shoulder. "You've done so much for all of us, and I couldn't be prouder. If you need anything, just let me know."
Gordon nodded, then watched as Eli left.
He sat there, staring at the door for a while. He then laid back, blinking slowly at the ceiling.
He had to admit, he was tired. Even after sleeping for the last day. He hadn't relaxed in weeks - or years, he supposed. He was still wrapping his mind around all of it. But there was one thing he was certain of - he was ready to rest.
---
Alyx sat atop the entrance to White Forest. She had volunteered for guard duty. With the portal closed and the majority of their force scattered, the Combine didn't attempt another attack. So it was pretty boring. But it was better than sitting inside, worried and useless.
Late that afternoon, a group of people came over the hill. Alyx stood up, gun at the ready, until she recognized their leader.
"Barney!" She shouted, waving down to the group. She was ecstatic, she hadn't seen or heard from him since they evacuated City 17.
"Hey, Alyx! Glad to see you made it out in one piece!" Barney shouted back, smiling up at her with a hand on his hip. "Say, where's Gordon?"
She noticed a certain confidence in his voice. It was a question of where he was - now, at this moment - not what had happened to him. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that Gordon hadn't made it.
Part of her wishes she still had that same confidence.
"He's inside. It's a long story - hold on, I'll be right down." She nodded to the other guard, who relieved her of duty. She climbed down the back and went inside the bunker.
A few minutes later, she was face to face with Barney, relaying everything that'd happened since they'd sent him off at the train station. The evacuees in his group had settled down. They all looked exhausted. Some were still on edge and clutching to their weapons, others had sat down while medics attended to them.
Barney looked tired, too. He'd been on foot for the last few days to bring this group to safety. It seemed the final push against the Combine had broken everyone.
"Damn," Barney said. "Hope he pulls through."
"Yeah." Alyx looked down. "Me too."
He gave her an encouraging smile. "Hey, don't worry about it. Gordon's been through much worse."
One of the medics perked up. She turned around. "You guys talking about Dr. Freeman?"
Alyx nodded.
"Didn't you hear? He's awake."
"He is?" The medic was barely able to nod before Alyx started sprinting down the corridor.
"Wh- Alyx, wait!" Barney called after her. He then chuckled to himself. "Crazy."
---
Alyx skidded around a corner and finally screeched to a halt outside the medbay door. She hesitated with her hand over the doorknob. She took a breath and opened the door. "Gordon?
Gordon sat up in his cot, straightening his glasses. He smiled weakly.
"Gordon!" She crossed the room in an instant, and just about threw herself at him. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into a hug. "You're okay!"
Gordon groaned, pain shooting through his body from the sudden squeeze. He patted her shoulder - though he wasn't really sure if he was returning the hug or trying to get her to release him.
"Oh," she said. She stood up with a sheepish smile. "Sorry, I'm just so glad you're alright."
Up close now, she could really see the extent of his injuries. Not just the bruises and cuts along his arms, but the gash on the side of his face where his glasses cut him when he fell. He had heavy bags under his eyes, either from lack of sleep or a punch to the face by a Metrocop.
"So..." She settled into the chair beside his bed, and scooted forward. "How are you feeling?"
He shrugged, and gestured to her.
"I'm fine. We all are, thanks to you."
She paused after saying that. Giving him praise had felt like second nature. He did save them, after all. But look where that got him.
I thought he was invincible.
She cleared her throat. "Things are looking up for the first time in... well, forever. And I just wanted..."
She didn't know what she wanted to do. Thank him again? Apologize?
Thankfully, the sound of the opening door and clinking glass interrupted her.
"So here's where you ran off to." Barney stood in the doorway. He had three beer bottles clumsily held in one hand. He grimaced when he laid eyes on Gordon. "Damn, Gordon, you look like hell."
Gordon looked him up and down, and raised an eyebrow.
Alyx snorted, and agreed with his unspoken sentiment. "Yeah, look at yourself."
Barney rolled his eyes. "Real funny, you two." He handed a bottle to Alyx, then Gordon.
Gordon looked down at the bottle in his hands and chuckled.
Barney picked up on it. "I figured after all this time, now is as good a time as ever to make good on my promise."
Alyx looked over at Gordon, battered and bruised in his cot. "Are you sure?"
"Hell yes, I am. We've got the Combine on the run. And soon we'll chase them off this planet once and for all. Don't worry, Gordon, we'll wait 'til you're back on your feet so you can join in on the fun." Barney settled on the edge of the cot, and clapped him on the shoulder. He winced, but returned it with a smile.
Alyx managed a weak smile of her own. She was accepting it finally. This wasn't the One Free Man, the invincible legend. This was Gordon, her friend, a human being with the scars to prove it.
She held up her beer. "To a speedy recovery."
Barney raised his in kind. "I'll drink to that."
Gordon joined the toast. They clinked their bottles and drank.
Summary: A quick scene based in Stupendium's Fallen London musical, Neath! Because the implied character dynamics make me ill
Warnings: none
---
"Last orders! Last orders, your horrible lot! I need my beauty sleep!"
The familiar call heralded the end of another night at the Singing Mandrake. Slowly the crowd dissipated, carrying drunken songs into the streets of London.
Cassie stood at the bar bidding farewell to the regulars, even shooting a knowing wink at the good Mr. Brimstone. He didn't respond, of course, he simply tucked his notebook into his coat pocket and strode out of the bar with practiced nonchalance. His cheeks were red, a shade befitting a devil like him.
She chuckled to herself and went back to work collecting the half-full bottles of liquor left behind on the bar. She swept them into an old milk crate and carried it towards the kitchen. She'd refill them with the pitcher of river water she collected earlier - it was nasty work, but it saved them from spending precious pence on the overpriced stuff from the Bazaar. Besides, it's not like anyone noticed the difference.
"-'S closing time already?" came a mumble from the back of the bar.
Cassie stopped suddenly. The bottles clinked together in the crate.
They turned and saw Robert Rackett lying face-down on a table, a metal cup clenched in his hand. It wasn't strange to find him like this, although he was usually slumped on the stairs or in the hall outside his rented room. It was a startling sight to the guests she often brought up to her own rooms, but she was fond enough of the thief to shrug it off. She found very few things startled her these days - and she liked it that way.
She gave him a sly smile. "What are you still doing down here, you old crook?"
He reached up and idly scratched his overgrown beard. "-'m not a crook," he said, unable to keep his words from slurring. "Tha-'s why they call me Honest Bob."
She laughed, placing a free hand on her hip. "If you're honest, then I'm the empress." She put her crate down on the table, gently pulled the cup from his hand, and dropped it in. She patted his back. "Go upstairs. You'll hurt your neck sleepin' down here."
"Oh alright, alright." He stood up, only making it a couple steps before stumbling into the next table.
She winced at the clatter, concerned he may have hurt himself - or worse, scraped up the floorboards. She watched him struggle for a moment longer before taking matters into her own hands. She snaked an arm under his. "Come on, then," she groaned as she lifted him from the table.
He leaned heavily on Cassie as she led him out of the bar and upstairs. When they got to his door, she reached into her skirt pocket and pulled out her ring of keys. It was a hassle to find Bob's in the jumble of spare keys one-handed, but eventually she managed it, and dragged him inside.
It was a small room, not much in it but a fireplace and some old furniture from before the Fall. A bed was shoved into one corner, next to a trunk full of Bob's belongings - whoever's belongings they were before Bob got his fingers on them, Cassie would never know.
"Here we are." She lead him over to the bed and sat him down.
He collapsed sideways onto the bed, the metal frame squealing in protest. "You're too good to me, Cassie," he said, half muffled by his pillow.
"Yes, I am," she huffed, yanking off his boots and tossing them to the floor. She wasn't about to let him sleep in his shoes. "Alright. See you tomorrow, Bob." She turned to dart out of the room.
"Wait." He sat up and gently, if not clumsily, took their hand. "Cassie, will you marry me?"
She stopped and stared at her hand in his. A soft frown tugged at her lips.
Then she smiled, rolled her eyes, and clicked her tongue. "Oh, you old romantic. That's the third time you've asked me that." There was nothing but fondness in their voice. She patted his hand. "My answer's still no."
He muttered something unintelligible and fell back against his pillow. His eyes fluttered closed.
She gave him a warm smile. She leaned down, sweeping back his hat and unkempt hair to press a kiss to his forehead. "Goodnight, Bob."
She heard him barely manage a "G'night, Cassie." before he began snoring.
Miss Holloway and Duke? For the Hatchetfield writing thing? Pls?
Duke sat in the parking lot of Hatchetfield High, letting out a deep sigh as he rested his head against the steering wheel.
He jumped when he heard a beep, thinking he hit his horn by mistake. He looked up to see the car parked next to him, a familiar 1987 Pontiac Firebird. The occupant gave him a smile before climbing out to see him.
He rolled down his window and smiled back. "Heya, Miss Holiday."
"Hiya, Duke," she said, leaning against the roof of his car. She tipped down her oversized sunglasses. "Bad day?"
"The school still won't budge in my client's medical bills."
She frowned. "I'm sorry to hear that." She glanced back to her car then turned back with a grin. "Do you know what always cheers me up?"
"What?"
"Pie."
He chuckled. "Pie?"
"Yes," she said, putting her hands on her hips. "In fact, I have some in my car right now."
"Really?" He chuckled as he watched her cross back to her car and pull out a pie tin wrapped in foil. "Why do you-?"
"I offered to help out with the drama club's bake sale. Luckily, there were a couple slices leftover." She rounded the car, opened the passenger's side door and easily slid in. She seemed comfortable.
That struck Duke as odd - he'd only known her for a short while, since she started her job as a guidance councilor. He didn't know what she did before that, hell, he didn't even know her first name. Still, he couldn't bring himself to stop her. He, too, felt comfortable.
She held out a pair of plastic forks. He took one as she peeled back the tin foil. He took a bite. "Mmm," he said, his mouth still full.
She chuckled. "Good, huh?"
"Yeah, it reminds me of..." he paused for a moment. He couldn't quite find the words.
"Of what?" She seemed to lean in, hopeful for something.
"I'm not sure." He shrugged. "But it's good! You were right, I do feel better."
I posted this drabble yesterday only to get a preview of a Nightmare Time 3 episode today where Duke has a very similar moment reflecting on how he doesn't know Miss Holloway's first name. Holy shit
