A Song of Sigils and Secrets
This was originally a one-shot. Then it was a WIP I abandoned for over two years after chapter three. Now it's a one-shot again. I updated the ending enough that a new publication date felt warranted.
Excerpt:
The old gods have given Sansa a soulmark, a sigil on her chest, a gift and a curse rolled into one.
Jon feels his own soulmark — the patch of colorless raised skin, the sigil of House Stark — growing hot and irritated at the memory of its forming. Even with the salve Maester Luwin prepared for him, he had cried himself to sleep for nearly a fortnight. He’d never known a more horrific combination of itching and burning in all his life.
And yet Sansa’s been hiding hers? Without a salve to aid her?
Summary: Daniel Fenton was only a teenager when the hole in his parents’ basement ate him alive. (Also available on AO3)
Pairings: Danny Fenton & Tucker Foley & Sam Manson
Warnings: graphic depiction of flesh melting off a kid's face, one brief but detailed vomit scene, Danny cutting his fingers on glass (not detailed)
Prompt: From Whumptober Day 24 "equipment failure" (and the title of the day which was "radiation poisoning")
Notable tags: graphic depictions of violence, H/C, angst, character death, radiation poisoning, gore, body horror, hazmat au
The zipper of the hazmat suit caught on Danny’s tank top as he zipped it up, forcing him to yank it back down briefly before pulling it back up, rougher than before. The sight of his Dad’s face plastered to the front of it forced a heavy sigh from his nostrils as he tried to remove it, failing miserably due to his now lacking fingernails. He gestured over to Sam and she quit fiddling with her camera long enough to come over and start peeling the sticker off.
“So,” Danny started, drawing out the word, “why are we doing this again?”
“Because.”
Danny rolled his eyes when Sam didn’t elaborate. “Right, of course. How could I forget?”
“Oh, come on, dude. Where’s your sense of adventure?” Tucker piped up from his spot leaning against a counter, not bothering to look up from his PDA.
“Upstairs and out of my parent’s lab that’s full of unstable and highly explosive equipment?”
Sam managed to get a purple-painted nail wedged under the sticker and ripped it off, rolling it into a ball and dunking it into a trash can on the other side of the lab. Danny’s spandex-muffled clapping was interrupted by Sam then putting a hand on his shoulder.
“Danny,” she started, drawing out the word, “this was your idea, remember?”
He did. He had excitedly told his friends about the busted “ghost portal” down in his basement and they had joined in his excitement to go and check it out. That had been before he got a good look at it.
Now, Danny glanced over his shoulder to the jerry-rigged hole in the wall. A bleak tunnel full of cold metal and jagged wires. A gaping maw ready to close around anyone foolish enough to enter it.
Okay, maybe he was being a little dramatic.
He looked back to his friends, seeing the way Sam was practically bouncing up and down over the whole situation and how Tucker kept repeatedly looking up from his PDA, waiting for Danny to make his move.
“Alright, alright. Fine.” Danny inhaled deeply and ran his hands through his hair to psych himself up. “Let’s do this!”
“Wait!” Sam held up a finger directly in Danny’s face. “Lemme get a picture.”
Danny rolled his eyes once more, only slightly irked that Sam just killed his mojo, but went along with her ushering to create her perfect picture. He ended up positioned between the portal and something labeled the “Ecto-filtrator”, standing uncomfortably in his baggy hazmat suit as Sam eyed her shots through the camera lens.
“Hm…” she began, “something’s missing. Something like—that!” Sam excitedly pointed to something to Danny’s left, already dashing over before he could turn to look at it.
“This!” She heaved, rummaging through the pile of teal and orange hazmat suits that had fallen out of their locker when Danny went to look for a suit his size. “This is perfect!” Sam sprang from her digging with a hazmat mask in hand, showing it to Danny like it was her new puppy.
Danny raised an eyebrow. “Perfect for…?”
“My picture, duh.” Danny blinked. Sam sighed heavily, like the perfection of some mask should’ve been obvious. “It’ll come out so perfectly uncanny. Like you're one of the guys who worked at Chernobyl going to check on the reactor, seconds before disaster!”
Danny blinked again, eyebrow still raised as he took the mask from Sam’s hand, holding it between his own two as he eyed it down. “Disaster? Sam, it's a hole in the wall.”
Sam shrugged. “Yeah, I know. Pretty boring.” An evil smirk crossed her face as her voice rose in excitement. “But just think. An uncanny picture of you, full hazmat gear, totally fine before going in. And then, once inside, you go all the way to the back, where the lighting will be perfect, so I can snap another pic of you looking ghostly!”
A smirk of amusement grew on Danny’s face. “Ghostly?”
“It is a ‘Ghost Portal’,” Tucker piped up, air-quoting Ghost Portal.
“See!” Sam tossed out her hand in Tucker’s direction, “Tucker understands my vision!” She decided to ignore his snort following her statement.
Danny shook his head, smiling at his friend’s antics as he pulled back the strap of the mask and fit it over his head. He gripped the large filter hanging out the left side and readjusted it to fit better on his face. After finding the proper placement, the eyepieces rested snuggly around his eyes and the mouthpiece actually felt… comfortable?
“Well, how does it look?” He asked Sam, his voice muffled under the mask as he held out his hands theatrically.
Sam eyed him down, finger tapping at her chin. She glanced around from the black gloves, boots, and white body of his baggy hazmat suit to the gas mask covering most of face. The harness on the back of it had effectively made his messy hair even worse, making Danny look just slightly crazed. She smiled.
“Perfect.”
After more urging from Sam for Danny to look as “weird” as possible standing next to the portal in his getup, she eventually got her oh-so-perfect picture.
“Okay!” She exclaimed, waving her polaroid back and forth, “Now we just need one of you in the Ghost Portal.”
Danny was already way ahead of her, standing on the black and yellow striped threshold to the cold, metallic void. He started breathing comically loud, sounding like a poor imitation of Darth Vader. He put one foot forward, over the caution line. “That’s one small step for man.” And then the other. “And one giant leap for mankind.”
Tucker booed from behind him. Danny couldn’t help his shit-eating grin.
His booted footfalls echoed off of the metal plating in the small chamber. It wasn’t noticeable from the outside looking in, but the walls were covered in electronics that Tucker would probably have a better name for. Geometric patterns lined the walls glowing a bright blue. Danny imagined it’s what the guts of a PC would look like. It was actually… kinda nice to look at. Calming, in a way.
In his admiration of the patterns running through the chamber, Danny missteped and tripped over a pipe lining the bottom of the portal. His hands shot out in front of him as he tried to brace himself for the fall. His left hand caught him easily. His right hand, however, made contact and slipped on the floor, sliding to the left where his elbow then caught him.
“Ow,” he whispered, only slightly embarrassed by his usual clumsiness, “‘Cause two bruised knees just wasn’t enough?”
Danny brought his right hand back up and pushed himself back to sit on his knees. As he raised his left hand, he noticed the feeling of something jabbing into the center of it. He looked at the palm of his gloved hand, expecting to see something stuck to it but found nothing. Looking back down to the floor, in the dim illumination of the geometry lining the walls, he saw two buttons. One labeled “OFF”, the other labeled “ON”. The “ON” button was depressed.
“Uh oh.”
Danny got back on his feet, still eyeing the buttons on the floor. Almost immediately, the patterns on the wall started glowing brighter. A whirring sound began as the lights faded from a neon blue to an acid green.
“Danny?” He heard Sam call from the entrance.
In front of Danny, the back of the portal started sparking, the whirring increasing in volume. The lights grew brighter still.
“Hey, dude,” Tucker called this time, worry evident in his tone, “I think you should get out of there.”
Danny took a few steps back from the sparks in the portal before turning around to look at his friends. He was completely engulfed in bright green light before he could even think to make a move toward them.
Pain enveloped him entirely, ripping a scream from his throat so piercing it felt as if his vocal cords would snap. It felt as if he were falling apart. Every nerve was set on fire, the pain irradiating; it was the only thing his brain could process as his body began to melt.
The white suit “protecting” him began to fade as the portal started to eat away at it, burning holes all across his person. It left him nude and at the complete mercy of the end that was quickly approaching Danny.
Danny jumped harshly as a crack popped up on the face of his gas mask, quickly spreading further and further. He lifted shaking hands to his face, one hand wrapping around the filter while the other gently pressed to the glass cover. He jumped again as the glass broke completely at the contact, the filter in his hand snapping off like a twig. In a panic, he reached up to wrap his hands around the harnesses keeping the mask on his face, only for them to dissolve the second he made contact with them. His mask fell to the floor with a clatter, slowly melting into it almost immediately.
Danny’s breathing became quick as he covered his face with his hands, desperate for some kind of protection. His fingers slid across his skin, taking globs of flesh with them like a knife through butter. His exposed muscle burned as he brought his hands further up to his ears, feeling them droop in between his fingers. One lobe dripped down to the floor, sizzling as it went and burning up completely before it hit the ground. Danny let out a sob as the remaining cartilage followed after it.
His whole body began to burn as he grasped at his hair, chunks of it and the skin it was attached to coming along with his fingers as they squeezed his head. The scent of singed hair was just strong enough to smell over the blood and cartilage clogged in Danny’s nose.
The burning began to escalate and Danny brought shaking hands down from his head to watch in horror as his skin started to eat itself, turning him a raw red before it started sinking deeper from the top layer. Large bits of flesh were slowly disappearing, leaving behind purplish-black chucks of meat surrounding red-stained bone. His left arm barely remained, the skin eaten and bones turning black.
He could feel his organs liquifying. Blood rushed from his nostrils, trailing down over the exposed muscles of his face to connect to the red river pouring out of his mouth. The warm liquid burned its way down the sides of his head as what he could only assume to be his brain began to ooze out from his ears. He tried to inhale to continue his painful screaming but started choking on the bloodied goop of his melted organs instead.
Danny began to fall forward, blood splattering on the green-glowing floor as the flesh of his skinless knees connected with the ground. His hands reached out to brace his fall, the bones of his left cracking once they reached their target, sending shockwaves up his arm and through the rest of his body. He moaned pitifully.
Moments went by as Danny sat there, experiencing every unbearable second of his own demise.
Suddenly, the bright green glow surrounding him began to get brighter. Brighter, brighter, brighter, tears filling his eyes at the abuse they were forced to take due to his lacking eyelids. It came to an end so sudden, Danny was left stunned in complete darkness. It didn’t take him long to realize his eyelids had closed.
He opened them quickly in shock only to be met with the sight of a solid, glowing green mass wrapped around his boney hand. He fell back on his haunches, hyperventilating at the sight, bringing up his right hand to try and rip the goop from his arm. Digging his fingers into the green matter, he ripped it from his arm. It splattered against the floor before it jumped back up and reattached itself to Danny’s arm. Danny continued his actions desperately before giving up, violently shaking as sobs racked his body.
He slowly brought his slime covered arm down to rest on his skin-covered knee, eyeing it carefully as if it would jump out at him. He turned it over, back and forth, as his eyes wandered up the rest of his arm. Spots where chunks of flesh had been missing were now filled in with more of the green ooze, the rest of his body looking much the same.
He brought his hands up to face, feeling his skin, squeezing his nose, and rubbing at his ears. He rubbed at his neck, confused. Even the pimple sitting at his jugular that’d been bugging him for days had grown back.
Danny brought his hands back down to his knees, looking over them as if the green goop on them would start telling him what was happening.
“What…?” He uttered, voice clear, if a bit echoey sitting in the portal chamber.
His eyebrows raised when the color of the goo started to dull and then change. The remains of his tattered flesh began to change as well, losing its color to match against the now pale white, glowy goop of his once missing skin.
Danny stood quickly, worried something else was going to begin happening to him. Eerily, what appeared to be clothing began to fade in from nowhere to cover his skin. He yelped, trying to flick off the white gloves fading in on his hands. It led further down his arm, turning black as it did. He looked down to see the black clothing spreading to his torso from every limb. He kicked his feet in an attempt to rid himself of glowing white boots, panic once again settling in as the black suit completely overtook him. The black…hazmat suit.
“What…?” Danny uttered again, desperate to know what was going on.
He startled at the sight of glass appearing in his vision, hands shooting up to his face to protect it, only for them to collide with the gas mask he saw melt away. He stood stock still in confusion. Whatever had happened, whatever was happening, he was totally lost. He unconsciously began walking backward toward the portal entrance as he fiddled with the filter on the mask.
The back of his newly white boot collided with the same stretch of pipe that tripped him in the first place and Danny stumbled backward, exiting out of the chamber of bright green light. He was forced into an awkward full body spin, arms outstretched and ready for another fall, but he caught himself this time, standing uncomfortably with his legs twisted as he rapidly blinked his eyes to adjust to the dark room he’d just entered. He brought his hands up to rub at his eyes and when they smacked against the glass of his mask, he instead settled with squeezing his eyes shut as hard as he could.
“Danny?” A voice called from in front of him.
Danny’s eyes flew open in an instant. He immediately squinted at the light emanating from the portal, lighting up the room in a bright green. After a moment of letting his eyes adjust he got a closer look of what was in front of him: his best friends huddled together in distress. He met the red, tear-filled eyes of Sam, then Tucker’s, who was sitting next to her, arms around her in a hug. His tears were still rolling down his cheeks.
“Is that you, Danny?” Sam asked gently.
Danny stood in silence for a moment, still trying to grasp at the details of what just happened. His friends began to look concerned at his continued silence so he answered, “Yeah?”
Sam slowly removed herself from Tucker’s hold, meeting some resistance when he refused to remove the hand he had wrapped around her arm. She placed her own hand on his and patted it calmly. Tucker shook his head at her desperately, shrinking slightly when Sam glared back but not letting her go.
“Tucker,” she hissed.
Tucker gulped. “Sam, what if—”
“What if what? That’s Danny, Tucker. Who else could it be?”
“But—”
Danny watched the exchange in front of him, eyes darting back and forth at his friend’s arguing before he brought his hands up. “Alright. Stop. What’s going on?”
Sam and Tucker went silent immediately as Danny’s voice echoed around the lab. They looked at each other briefly before looking back at Danny. The silence stretched awkwardly as Danny waited for them to say something, staring them down the same way they were doing to him. After seemingly having enough, Sam inhaled deeply and opened her mouth, only to be cut off by Tucker shooting to his feet.
“What’s going on?! What’s going on is you walking into that portal and it kicking on and then you screaming bloody murder like your dying and then you just waltz out of there like nothing happened and like you aren’t—aren’t—”
“Glowing.” Sam finished.
Danny blinked and shook his head in confusion. “Weird timing for a compliment, Sam.”
“No, Danny, you’re,” she sighed, rolling her eyes, “you’re literally glowing. Like glow-in-the-dark type glowing.”
The hands Danny had brought up became his center focus, checking to see that they were, in fact, glowing. He looked down to the rest of his body, turning this way and that to see that an ever-present, soft, white glow covered every inch of him.
“What happened?” Danny repeated quietly, staring off into space for a moment before the rush of memory completely overwhelmed him.
His skin turning red and raw, oozing and bubbling as it melted. His stomach churning as blood ran down his throat, mixing with the acid burning holes in his stomach lining. His lungs aching with every inhale of the putrid air, forcing him to gasp and wheeze with every breath he wished he didn’t have to take. His ligaments and tendons fraying and snapping as they slowly disintegrated. The mix of hot and cold as that goop enveloped his exposed bits of skin and bone, bringing stars to his eyes and bile to his throat.
The confusing jumble of rapid-fire moments that he just experienced came at him in a new light.
What happened? Something that should’ve killed him.
He should be dead.
Danny fell to his knees and hurriedly reached up to yank off his mask as bile quickly rose up in his throat. It burned its path through his esophagus and over his tongue as he spewed it on the floor of the lab.
Tears fell from his eyes and into the puddle below him, blurring his vision as he heaved and gasped. When it seemed his stomach had given up the upchucks, Danny reached up to wipe the drool from his mouth connecting it to the vomit by his knees. The tears kept falling and with every sniffle came a hard jerk from his whole body.
The more tears that fell, the more clear his vision became and with that clear vision came the sight of his glowing, acid-colored vomit, tinted with a concerning amount of red specks.
A hand gently pressing on his back startled Danny, making his head shoot up to be greeted by the sight of sad, purple eyes.
“Danny,” Sam began, rubbing his back in soothing circles, “are you okay?”
A guilt-filled voice from Danny’s other side sent his neck snapping in that direction. “Yeah, man. I’m sorry if I scared you, or made you feel bad, or something.”
Tucker’s quiet apology brought Danny back to the present, helping to force his memories back down. “No, no. It’s alright, Tuck. I’m fine. Not your fault.”
Tucker stared at him for a few seconds before breaking eye contact and staring over at Sam. Danny knew she was looking back with the same concerned expression on her face. He wanted to roll his eyes at his friend’s overprotectiveness but decided against it on the off chance it made him throw up again.
They sat quietly together, Sam rubbing Danny’s back and Tucker holding onto his bicep while occasionally offering an attempt at a reassuring back pat. When Danny was sure he wouldn’t throw up again at any sort of movement he sighed shakily and began making a move to get up.
“Could I, uh, get some help?”
His friends were quick to spring into action and began helping him up on wobbly legs. The grip they both had on Danny’s arms made it obvious he wasn’t going anywhere without them. His lips quirked despite himself.
“The sink? Please?” Danny urged, taking a step forward, desperate to get the taste of bile out of his mouth in case it made him nauseous again. Sam and Tucker gave each other another look before Tucker’s stare turned toward the sink and Sam met Danny’s eyes.
“Um, actually, Danny. There’s probably something else we should tell you.” Sam started slowly.
“Is it that I’m, like, super pale? Because trust me,”—memories of skin, charred and bleeding as he melts to the floor come to Danny’s mind, leading into the afterimage of black veins standing stark against bone white skin. He couldn’t help his wince—“I know.”
Sam shrugged, tightening her hold on Danny’s bicep. “Well, yeah, but…” she trailed off. Biting her lip, she looked at Tucker.
Tucker’s eyes widened, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he gulped. “Uh well—what Sam is trying to say is—um—that you… should see for yourself!” Tucker squared his shoulders at the end of sentence, cockily proud of the solution he came up with. Sam groaned.
“I guess that is the easiest option but,” Sam looked at Danny once more, “I’m… not sure it’s the best.”
Danny sighed. “Look, guys, I don’t know what you two are worried about but I do know that I want the throw up out of my mouth. So can we just get there? Please?”
Sam nodded sourly and Tucker uttered a quick “Let’s do it!” before they both started pulling Danny forward once more. He tried to help as he was before, dragging his feet forward in a facsimile of walking. He was quickly losing speed though and his friends were all but dragging him before too long.
“Danny,” Tucker heaved as he slung Danny’s arm over his shoulder, “you sure you’re okay, dude?”
“Ugh, you’re getting sweat on me,” Sam tried to joke, the attempt falling flat as she flailed Danny’s arm around her own shoulder.
“I’m good. Just a little tired,” Danny huffed, heartbeat pounding in his ears as he tried to catch his breath.
Each step between his friends was slow and careful, making the time to the sink that much longer. At least to Danny, as a drop of bile-tasting saliva slid down his crusted throat. He eyed the distant faucet, dying to wash out his mouth. He saw the mirror above it, reflecting the ominous green light from the portal back at them. Yet another glass object to explode at the slightest miscalculation. He wondered why his parents had it down here at all.
It was only a few more agonizingly slow steps before the trio reached their destination. Danny’s eyes were drawn downward toward the basin as he reached out his hands to grip the edge of it. Sam kept her tight grip on his arm while Tucker loosened his but didn’t let go.
Tucker was nice enough to turn the cold faucet handle on and Danny immediately reached his gloved hands under the stream, taking the water cupped in his hands and splashing it in his face. He reached back down and started to gather more water in his hands, bringing it up to his mouth with the intent to drink from it.
“Wait!” Sam yelled, startling Danny bad enough to send the water flying at his face.
“What?” Danny asked, not bothering to hide the whine in his tone.
“You don’t know what kind of… things got on your gloves in there! You can’t just drink from them!”
“Sam,” Tucker piped up from the other side of Danny, “I think whatever… things got on his suit probably already got to him.” He further made his point by nudging his head toward the mirror.
“Yeah, okay, maybe, but let’s not take any more chances. I can go get a cup from upstairs.”
“Look, Sam, if it’ll make you feel better, there’s some paper cups behind the—” Danny’s sentence came to an abrupt halt as he finally saw the person staring back at him in the mirror.
He met the toxic, glowing, green eyes in the reflection, opened as wide as his were. The hair on their head was an unnatural snowy white. Their ears ended in pointed tips. The glow surrounding their body helped to accent the sheer paleness of their skin and made the dead veins on their face stand out even more. Danny opened his mouth in a gasp and caught a glance of fangs lining the reflection’s mouth.
“Is that—” Danny stopped himself short again, discomforted at the sight of the person in the mirror mimicking his mouth movement.
Sam and Tucker’s own reflections stood behind the ghastly figure, their brows both furrowed with worry as Tucker nodded.
“That’s you, dude.”
Danny brought a hand up and pinched one of his cheeks, making the eye of that side twitch briefly. The reflection made all of the same motions he’d just done. A shaky sigh left Danny as he slowly came to terms with the drastic change to his appearance. He kept staring in the mirror, familiarity bubbling up as he continued to look at himself. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, hoping the sight before him would change upon opening them. It was only when he reopened his eyes and caught sight of the radioactive green glow that the memories nagging at his brain came forth.
Memories of him listening with rapt attention as his parents talk about ghosts over breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Theories for how they’re naturally luminous and why that was. Talks of ectoplasm taking shape to resemble something vaguely human. Discussions of how the ectoplasm took advantage of human emotion to replicate the personality of the once living being it was replicating. The assurance when his parents stated that the ectoplasm making up the ghosts in question would be a radioactive, unnaturally bright green.
Danny reached out his violently shaking hands and grabbed hold of the edges of the mirror in front of him as he looked deep into his own eyes, his eyes that glowed a green not natural to any human being on Earth. His thumbs dug further into the glass, first causing a crack before the mirror completely shattered before him. Tucker gasped and Sam uttered his name in concern as one of her hands left his bicep and attached itself to his shoulder. The glass fell into the sink, along with bright, green drops of liquid falling from his thumb. Danny brought his hands from the mirror, peering down at his spread palms and saw a cut in his suit. Underneath the safe material was the origin of the liquid; a cut against his skin, oozing the putrid, green goop. The same shade and texture as the slime that coated his skin in the portal.
Ectoplasm.
Ringing filled Danny’s ears as he slumped forward, bracing himself up on the sink. Tucker’s grip tightened on his arm and Sam was shaking his shoulder but he was progressively losing the ability to focus as a loud, pulsing beat began to grow louder, nearly overwhelming the ringing. His breathing became rapid, each inhale feeling more and more pointless as his lungs didn’t fill.
Danny’s legs collapsed out from under him, forcing Sam to release her grip and bringing Tucker down to the floor with him. Their voices were still muffled by the ringing, pulsing, beating that completely overwhelmed his senses. He could feel the hot tears streaming down his face as he brought his hands palm up once more and inspected the glowing green dripping down one of his white gloves. His shaking was only helping the ectoplasm flowing through his veins to ooze more as drops from his palm began to stain the floor of his parents lab.
In an instant, everything stopped. No more ringing or pulsing, no more talking from his friends. Reality started setting in and Danny was getting a full view of the high beams driving straight toward him.
“I’m dead,” he stated simply.
The silence accompanied him for a few moments more before Tucker started yelling.
“What?! Dude, don’t say that! You’re just… irradiated or something!” The grip Tucker had on Danny’s tightened to the point of being painful. Danny could barely feel it.
“Whoa, hey, Tucker, calm down. I think Danny’s just having a panic attack. Or something,” Sam piped up, yelling as well to try and overpower Tucker’s vocals.
The two kept arguing with each other, voices increasing in volume as panic made itself obvious from their outbursts. Danny sat between them silent, hearing neither of them as he continued to contemplate everything that had happened so quickly.
As the two kept arguing, it went unnoticed as their hands slipped through the arms they were holding, right up until their foreheads smacked against one another. Tucker flung himself back and rubbed at his head while Sam calmly sat back on her heels.
“Ow, jeez. Hardheaded much, Sam?”
Sam raised an unimpressed brow. “Says the guy with the thickest skull I’ve ever—wait.”
Sam was aware that they’d just been talking across Danny, too distracted by their own shock to really be concerned about his. But now… they were talking through him. A blurry half-image of their now glowing friend sat between them, still as out of it as he was before. Sam reached out to him, only for her hand to go right through him. Tucker saw this and reached out as well, waving an arm back and forth in his friend’s transparent form.
Sam started to breathe deeply to try to keep herself calm. On Danny’s other side she saw Tucker’s heckles raise and she knew his gasp was about to lead into a scream.
“Tucker!” she shouted, clearly not maintaining her composure over the situation. Tucker’s mouth snapped shut. “How about we all take a moment to breathe and just… relax.”
Tucker shook his head rapidly but at the glare Sam was giving decided she was more scary than their half-present friend and nodded instead.
“Okay! Okay.” Sam slowly inhaled through her nose and exhaled through her mouth. Tucker tried to repeat her actions but made it obvious he was still very much freaking out. She would take what she could get.
“Alright. Danny?” Silence. “Danny.” No response. Sam huffed, crossing her arms. “Daniel James.”
That caught his attention. “What, yes?”
“We’re calming down here. Care to join us?” Danny lapsed back into silence, seemingly in thought. “I’m not taking no for an answer, Danny.”
“Alright, alright,” Danny reluctantly responded. Sam inhaled deeply through her nose again, waiting for Danny to follow. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. He reopened his eyes. “Yeah, okay, I—what.”
Danny finally caught sight of his blurry hands, easily seeing the lab floor through them. He bent all around looking at the rest of his body, his breath quickening once more. “Guys?”
Sam reached out a hand to try and comfort Danny but her hand phased right through him, causing Danny to jump to his feet and back away from his friends.
“See?! This is what I mean! I’m dead! I’m a ghost!”
Sam and Tucker both stood up after their friend, Sam raising up her hands as if she were trying to calm a startled animal and Tucker keeping his cradled hands close to chest.
“No, Danny. That’s—that’s not possible. You’re—you’re not a—”
“Yeah, man. I mean, ghosts aren’t real or—or your parents—”
“Oh, god, my parents!” Danny grabbed at his hair. “My parents are gonna kill me! I can’t be a ghost! I can’t—oh god!”
In an instant, Danny stood half-visible in front of his friends before he disappeared completely.
“Danny!” Sam and Tucker shouted simultaneously.
“What?!” Danny shouted back, panicked.
“Dude, you’re gone!” Tucker yelled to an empty corner of the lab. Sam stood next to him looking around the lab in confusion.
Danny looked down to his arms once more, no longer seeing a transparent image of himself but a much blurrier and colorless form of his body. Bringing his hand up left an image of it slowly trailing behind before it eventually reached where his hand actually was. And all at once, he popped back into reality, full color and no transparency.
His hands fell back down to his sides as he looked toward his friends. They were both staring at him in shock. Danny’s eyes began to fill with tears.
“See?” He said to them, “Ghost.” He choked on the word and sniffled as the tears started to flow.
Sam and Tucker continued to stare at their sobbing friend. Sam took a step forward and Tucker turned to look at her movement. She swallowed once, twice, blinking rapidly, before darting forward toward Danny, slamming into and nearly knocking him over as she wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. She began to sob as well.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have forced you. I shouldn’t have made you go in there, Danny. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Sam's apologies didn’t end even as they turned into hiccuped gibberish. Her arms kept tightening around Danny to the point it was getting harder to breathe. Tucker’s approach was much slower than Sam’s, almost nervous. He inched up to them and came to a stop just off to the side, looking over Danny like something else might start happening. His inspection came to a stop at Danny’s eyes, maintaining eye contact for a few seconds before his face completely shifted to despair and Tucker began sobbing as well.
“Dude,” he began, sniffling to keep more snot from running down his nose, “I’m sorry.”
Once again, Danny was nearly knocked over as Tucker came at him and wrapped him in a hug, one arm around his back, the other around Sam.
Danny cautiously brought his arms up and wrapped them both around his friends, leaning his head forward and resting his chin on Sam’s shoulder while pressing his cheek against Tucker’s. The trio stood together for a while, all trying to take comfort in one another as they continued grieving.
Suddenly, the group's sorrow was interrupted by a bright, white light that began to surround Danny. They all pulled back as the light grew brighter. Danny took a few steps back from his friends. They both began to follow after him.
“Wait, guys, don’t—”
The light grew even brighter, forcing Sam and Tucker to cover their eyes as it completely engulfed Danny. When it had seemingly dimmed, the two opened their eyes, only to be met with their friend, shoulders scrunched up to his ears and eyes squeezed shut, looking exactly as he had before he had entered that stupid portal.
The lab was completely silent as Danny cautiously opened one blue eye before opening the other at the sight of his friends staring at him in shock once again. Danny’s shoulders dropped.
“Now what?”
If he didn’t know any better, Danny would’ve thought his friends were part of the football team, what with the way they tackled him in yet another group hug. Danny’s legs got pushed a little too far back by the surprise and was actually forced back onto the floor this time, his friends coming with him as he landed squarely on his butt. His utterance of an “ow” was drowned out by Sam and Tucker excitedly shouting his name at him.
“You’re back! Danny, you’re back!”
“You’re alive, Danny!”
They continued to smother him with Sam pressing her tear stained cheek against his and Tucker choking on happy sobs. Danny could only sit in confusion at the complete one-eighty of the mood.
“Wait, what happened?”
Sam released her death grip from around his neck and sat back on her heels, wiping at her eyes before lifting up Danny’s hand and pointing at his palm. “Look, Danny.” Danny looked at the black gloves leading into the white hazmat suit covering his whole body. “No glow,” she finished with a smile.
“Yeah!” Tucker cheered, reaching up to Danny’s hair and pulling a few strands down toward his eyes. Danny winced as he eyed his black hair.
His two friends sat back, smiles wide on their faces as they looked at him expectantly. Danny stared off into the space between them.
“I’m alive?” He whispered. “I’m alive!” He then shouted, jumping to his feet in excitement. Sam and Tucker joined him in his elation, the trio all clinging to one another as they shout and cheer at the newest revelation in their weird journey.
“Oh, man. Maybe—maybe it was some kind of after effect and—and now! Now, I’m fine! I’m alive again!”
Sam and Tucker listened to Danny’s rambling theories at his predicament, first with smiles on their faces that slowly morphed into frowns as they watched Danny get…shorter? Danny, lost in his solo conversation, didn’t initially notice until he looked over toward his friends, only to look up at them in confusion. He looked down toward his legs, half expecting them to be collapsing from all the stress in such a short time, or at least something similar, but he was not expecting to not see his legs at all. He screamed.
Sam rushed forward, grabbing hold of Danny’s arm and trying to pull him up, Tucker eventually coming over to help as well. Together, they pulled him up abruptly fast, clearly expecting more weight to accompany their friend… and legs too. Sam gasped and Tucker yelled at the sight of their legless friend, only an upper torso being held between them. Danny, despite being able to see some semblance of his legs, was just as freaked. Just before the group could completely lose their composure, Danny’s legs reappeared, along with his extra weight as Sam and Tucker dropped him to his feet. The trio stared at one another in silence before Tucker piped up.
“But—I thought—”
“Maybe, some kind of after effect like you were saying, Danny,” Sam suggested, unsure of her statement.
“Huh,” Danny uttered in response before his eyes rolled back in his head and he fell back, landing on the basement floor in a heap. Sam and Tucker quickly rushed down to his body.
“Danny? Danny?!” Sam yelled, grabbing his shoulders and shaking them in an attempt to wake him. On Danny’s other side, Tucker placed his fingers against Danny’s neck.
“He—oh! Sam! He has a pulse! He is alive! He’s—he’s—” Sam went around to Danny’s head and began lifting him up from his armpits, “—what are you doing?”
“Picking him up, what’s it look like?” She huffed as she managed to bring up his top end, making his head loll forward.
“Okay… why?”
Sam heaved, “I don’t know about you, Tucker, but I think it’d be better for everyone if we got out of this stupid basement.” She turned her head toward the active portal, Tucker following her gaze at the unnerving, swirling mass floating in it. “At least for now.”
Tucker swallowed. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re probably right.” He then went to Danny’s bottom half, picking up his legs and waiting for Sam’s cue to start moving. She nodded her head toward the stairs out of the lab and the two began to make their way out, their unconscious friend between them.
“We dropping him in his room?” Tucker asked, eyeing the stairs behind him.
“Where else? I don’t think he’d be super comfortable waking up on the living room couch for everyone to see.”
“Well, yeah, but… should we tell his parents?”
Sam considered Tucker’s question, momentarily stopping in her tracks to look down at the unconscious boy in her arms. “I think,” she began, “we should leave that to him.” Tucker nodded in agreement and the two continued up the stairs.
Out of sight of the portal, the trio didn’t get to see as it shut itself off behind them.
Unforeseen Reunion | TP Ratchet x Drift/Deadlock | NSFW 18+
Word count: 7000+ 😲
Warnings: Smut ( valve and plug interfacing ), mentions of violence, near death experiance and angst. NSFW 18+.
Notes: So yeah, I lost complete control of myself. Holy crap, I'm impressed with myself. I decided I wanted to go with Prime universe as that's what my hyperfixation went with. I didn't completely focus on canon just so everyone is aware. I had way too much fun with this and I'm so obsessed with these two. Enjoy this work of art you beautiful sinners. 🥰
The crash landing was the sign that his luck had run out. Deadlock had been travelling for far too long, isolated in his barely hanging on ship without contact, that's until he managed to receive a transmission from decepticons. He should've been pleased, yet he didn't feel it, just emptiness.
It wasn't until he hit the earth's atmosphere that his ship decided it had enough, power shut off and he came plummeting towards the earth. He tried gaining control but that failed so he tried contacting the decepticons requesting assistance, but even that was a deadend. No help was coming for him.
Bracing for impact he thought he might have a chance but the rough landing was much harsher than expected, throwing him around and a sharp piece of metal punctured through him, slicing his fuel tank and severed a fuel line. Terrific.
Deadlock manages to get himself out of his piece of scrap ship and take a few steps forward, only to collapse onto the ground with a pained grunt and look down at his servo that held his wounded area to see a lot of energon was leaking from him. He can't help but let out a vented chuckle, convinced this was going to be it for him.
Only managing to get a short distance away from the crash site he couldn't walk anymore and slid his back down against a tree, venting out heavily as if a pressure was lifted from him. He knew though, his systems were struggling, warnings flashing before his optics, it won't be long before he shuts down and slowly offline from bleeding out. One more time he tried making contact but got nothing in return. Either his com links weren't working or they didn't care about him.
There used to be someone in his life who was very dear to him. He saved his life after getting himself hooked up on circuit boosters, gave him a chance, and he stayed with him. He loved him with all his spark, then the war started and that's where it all went wrong.
Eventually he would make choices and every choice has a price. Whether it was worth it or not, Deadlock never wanted to answer that himself.
He was one of Megatron's favourites. He's the one who gave him his new name and grew from that back on cybertron. He thought he was making the right choice, but he was wrong, and he's had to live with that all this time. He became emotionless, making him willing to kill when needed or ordered, leaving a trail of horrors behind which was enough to make any autobot and decepticon worst nightmare.
Now, he was dying, alone. Just as he deserved.
Leaning himself against the tree all he could do was observe his surroundings, take in what might be his last memories. Everything grew weaker, more burned out as his fuel tank pumped harshly to get energon through him, only for it to leak out.
His audios managed to pick up some sounds of a ground bridge. Had they finally decided to show pity and come for him? He onlines his hazy optics only to be met with the end of a blaster and an autobot symbol.
"Oh just my luck." Deadlock manages to say between harsh vents. "An autobot gets to watch me die in my final moments....or, you can take the shot, put me out of my misery?"
"Is that what you want?" Arcee keeps her guard up and weapons ready, not wanting to give him any chance to attack if he was faking.
"Does it matter what I want?"
"No, it doesn't." Bulkhead comes up behind, forcing Deadlock to move his helm up to look at him.
"Well you're a big one." He casually smirks through his pain. "So, what's it going to be? What's the...autobot thing to do?"
Arcee and Bulkhead had been sent to investigate the crash sight after it made impact. They knew it was a decepticon shuttle but weren't sure if it was occupied. Upon arrival it's confirmed. Neither wanted to let their guard down just in case he had any tricks or if the decepticons might show up.
"What do you think?" Bulkhead asks Arcee, unsure what they should do. Letting him die without them helping didn't seem right, but he was a con.
"Let's call Optimus, see what he has to say." Arcee answers.
Deadlock heard the autobot leader's name causing him to let out another vented chuckle. "Your big boss is here? Huh. Alright, call him, see if he has mercy on a filthy con." He was just talking, it's all he can do for his final moments.
While Bulkhead makes the call Arcee keeps her optics on him with her blaster still drawn. "You got a name?"
The big ask. "If I told you...you're going to wish you pulled the trigger." He decided to not say his name. If she found out, she might just pull the trigger on him without hesitation, not that he cared.
"I don't recognize you. You're not someone I've bumped into before, and I remember every bot I have. So who are you?"
"How about you tell me your name first?" Deadlock manages to tilt his helm to the side as he meets her optics, letting out a smirk when all she gives is silence, his pearly white dentas and sharp fangs pressing over his bottom lips. "Yeah...that's what I thought."
Deadlock notices Arcee say something else but it all goes deaf to his audios. He's lost a lot of energon and he knows he's in trouble as things in him start slowly shutting down. He manages to activate his audios again and this is when he hears more voices and steps coming closer. If he was to survive, he wasn't even sure what he'd do next, not anymore.
A part of him did want to be offline. It'll end everything for good, and perhaps give him some peace of mind, not that he deserved it.
"Hey, you still with us?" Bulkhead taps the top of his helm to bring him back, causing him to let out a groan and online again.
"Sort of..." Is his only honest answer.
"Well, today is your lucky day con. Our medic is going to come and patch you up. Try to remember this moment that we helped you." Bulkhead adds firmly for him to think about.
"I'm jumping with joy." Deadlock chuckles dryly, a little energon drops from his mouth as he tastes it flooding in his intake. Yeah, he felt it was too late.
"Drift?"
That voice.
He manages to move his helm back up and his amber optics flickered as he meets the gaze of the ghostly familiar figure standing before the ground. Ratchet. His Ratchet.
"You know him?" Arcee was surprised to hear Ratchet say the decepticons name. But Ratchet couldn't answer, he was frozen, as if he was petrified or enthralled by the very sight of what he thought he lost those years ago.
Deadlock, his given decepticon name, lets out a softly dry laugh that lingers longer with a smile, disbelief and sadness overwhelming his struggling processor. He finally found him.
"Perhaps I am lucky." He says with his wide smile, sharp dentas glittering in under the sunlight. "It's good to see you Ratty."
Under Optimus' orders Ratchet came to patch up the new decepticon before sending him on their way. He was a medic, he treated the wounded, but treating a decepticon was different. He's done it before of course, but not often. Ratchet felt his servos shake as he stood there. Hearing the old pet name made his vents hitch a little and his own emotions boiling up, completely deaf to Arcee as she questions him.
It's not until Deadlock slumps against the tree that Ratchet finally acted. Hurrying forward he came to his side and started to work on him. His wounds were bad, he knew this already just simply looking at him from afar.
"How do you know him?" Arcee repeats coming to the medics side.
"Later." Ratchet's focus was on him. "Let me work."
Neither Bulkhead or Arcee have ever seen Ratchet like this before. Sure, they've seen him sad, angry, annoyed, happy, but this is different.
When he feels his servos against his frame Deadlock lets out a shutter, both relief and pain. He tilts his helm up to get a better look at Ratchet and manages to hold a soft smile that feels foreign to him, he hasn't smiled like that in a very long time. There was a deep history there, and the two went through a lot together, right before he hurt his Ratty. He didn't deserve to be saved, or given a chance. Damage was done.
"Saving your life, again." Ratchet mutters mostly to himself, his own emotions rattled. "Reckless. Stupid. All this time and you're online, still. I'm out of my mind. I should hate you, no, I do hate you, but my spark is aching for you." His voice is low as if he's whispering to himself but Deadlock hears it. "Why did you....How could you...." His words break apart and that hits Deadlock hard.
"I'm sorry." Is all he can whisper, touching Ratchet's working servo and gaining his attention. "I'm sorry....I'm so sorry." Apologising won't fix the past or his choices, but it's the first time he's ever said it to him.
As much as Ratchet is hurting he knew he couldn't lose him again. Whatever happens next will be whether it was too late or not.
"Kids, stay back." Bulkhead hurries through the ground bridge first and warns the kids all hanging around the raised platform along with Agent Fowler and June.
"What's going on?" Raf asks curiously, noticing his worried expression.
"Optimus, he won't listen. Can you talk to him? This is crazy!" Arcee is next feeling enraged about Ratchet's decision.
Ratchet comes through next, carrying a badly wounded Deadlock in his arms with strength no one else had seen him with for a long time.
"You brought a Decepticon back here?" June raises her hand over Raf and makes sure the kids stay behind her. "Ratchet the kids are here!"
"Don't like it, find the door." Ratchet barks back, taking many of them off guard. He ignores everyone and places him on the medical berth, quickly gathering tools to start stabilising him.
Deadlock was hanging close over the edge, everything in him hurt and his processor was swimming wildly. He had no idea where he was, only that Ratchet was with him, and that's all that mattered.
"So cool." Miko comes closer to get a better view. Jack tries to stop her.
"Miko-"
"No way I want to watch!"
Optimus comes closer but stays out of Ratchet's way and stares at the decepticon brought in, his optics widening a little as if something clicked in his processor, and Arcee notices this.
"You know him too. Ratchet called him Drift. Who is that?"
Optimus is quiet before looking at his comrades. "Ratchet knows him. Let him work."
"But-"
"Please, Arcee." Optimus knew just how sensitive this would be for his old friend, and can't imagine but he must be feeling right now.
Arcee finally backs off but that doesn't mean she was alright with this. Most of everyone wasn't. Miko sits on the edge of the lower platform as she watches Ratchet do his magic on the decepticon, a fascination. June only manages to keep Jack and Raf away, still not liking that a decepticon was near the kids base.
"Prime, is this safe?" Agent Fowler questions him quietly. "I get that he's a friend of Ratchet's, but that doesn't change he's a decepticon."
"I understand your concern. But please, I'm asking you all to let Ratchet handle this." Optimus didn't want to explain everything in that moment, respecting Ratchet and hoping everyone will follow the same.
Deadlock was in and out of it for a bit, gold optics flashing repeatedly as Ratchet tried to stop the bleeding and keep him stable. Everything hurt through him, but not as bad as the ache in his spark that throbs with grief for his Ratty. He was saving his life yet again, trying to at least.
"Are you still with me?" Ratchet's tone is more gentle as he hovers over him once he manages to stop the bleeding.
"Ah huh..." He manages to say between heavy vents.
"I need to repair the damage and get energon running through you again. Try to keep still, you're at the start of a long road recovery."
Before he could say anything else, Ratchet had gone to get a few things. Deadlock tilts his helm a little to the side and through his flickering vision he spots something, or someone. The pink is what catches his attention first and gives himself a moment to adjust his vision before it clears up almost.
"Well, you're tiny." He manages to say softly through a short chuckle.
"I might be small, but I can rip your spark out." Miko doesn't hold back.
"I better...stay on your good side than. What are you?"
"What am I? I'm human. The names Miko. You've never seen a human before?"
"Nah, you're the first, Miko."
"What are your first impressions?"
"Well...you did threaten to rip my spark out...so I'm fearful of you." He only meant it as a joke and Miko knew this, and she gave a small smirk at him. She didn't like cons, but this one seems different.
Even Ratchet didn't seem bothered about his interaction with her. June slowly comes closer, Jack and Raf right behind her, still being careful.
"You're Drift, right?" Miko leans her chin against the railing feeling a bit more comfortable to stay.
"Yes." It's Ratchet that answers quickly before Deadlock could. He understood. Meeting his gaze there was that firm and serious blaze he knew all too well from his Ratty. It meant there was going to be no further mention about it.
"Yeah...I'm Drift." Saying the name again after so long felt weird, but guess he'll adjust to it again.
Suddenly, he jolts and groans in pain through clenched dentas as Ratchet wields something into place. It hurts a lot, but at least it doesn’t last too long.
"Could you give me a warning next time?" He vents once it stops.
"Nope." Ratchet answers simply.
He understands.
"How do you two know each other?" It's Raf that bravely asks, mainly both of them.
"We...go way back." Drift answers, optics shifting at the medic at his side. "Ain't that right Ratty?"
"Hm." Ratchet doesn't answer much after hearing his old nickname.
"Ratty?" Miko can't help but smirk at the medic.
"Only he is allowed to call me that." He tells her. No one else ever did.
"He hates it, but I get away with it." Drift smirks lightly before wincing again. "Frag..." Optics manage to cast over at the other autobots standing together outside the bay and staring, most of them looking not too happy causing him to vent out. "Stop."
Ratchet does but only because he's confused. "What?"
"Just...stop. Just...you shouldn't be helping, you know?"
"Do you want to be offline?" Ratchet hits his tool against the table causing the humans the jump and gives an intense stare at Drift. "Do you just want to give up?"
"Your friends don't want to waste resources on a filthy con...I don't deserve it. You...you shouldn't be helping me."
"Well, too bad. You don't get to have a say in what I do, we're well past that. Perhaps you're right about not deserving to be saved, but the only one that gets to decide your fate is me." Ratchet leans closer to Drift, optics burning, before he erupts. "The only way you will be offline is if I allow it, because I'm the only one who has every right to let you bleed out right now! You don't get to decide your fate! I do! Is that understood?!"
His outburst is heard by everyone. Even the humans shrink away a little, never seeing Ratchet this angry before. Something deep was there, but no one knew just how deep.
Drift doesn't flinch. He takes it, accepts Ratchet's rage. He's right, only he has the right to decide what happens next. All he can do is let him do what he wants, he is no longer in control of his fate.
"Understood."
Ratchet lets out a heavy vent and goes back to work on him, only to look up when he feels everyone staring. "What?" He snaps, bothered that everyone was just staring.
"Everyone, let's give them space." Optimus finally says. "Ratchet has work to do." He'll give that privacy to his old friend without distractions.
June leads the kids away and Miko follows to let Ratchet work. Only Optimus understands what Ratchet must be feeling, he knew what Drift meant to him, and knew just what they've both dealt with over the years. The others all had raising questions but at least they weren't hammering either him or Ratchet with them to get answers, and respected what Optimus had said.
It is a long recovery for Drift. Weeks go by, but he is doing better. Ratchet worked hard to repair the damage he received from the crash and make sure his fuel lines were pumping correctly. He worked his magic and did a good job on Drift, never giving up.
"Alright, follow my digit." Ratchet was doing simple tests, everyday he did them, and Drift obeys as his optics follow the moving digit in front of him, clearing and without struggle. "Good. Better today."
Drift was feeling better, both physically and mentally. After being by himself so long it was going to take time adjusting to have others around.
Not the autobots, mainly the humans kept him company. Drift was curious about these organics. Sure, he's come across them before, but not humans. He doesn't mind them.
"Does this mean I'm off bed rest?" Drift asks as he straightens his back. Ratchet shakes his helm with a short chuckle.
"Yeah right. You're clear when I say you're clear. Just because you look and feel better doesn't mean you're fit for duty."
"Duty?
Ratchet stops and looks at him, optics unreadable before venting softly. "You're staying, right?"
It hasn't been something they've talked about really. Drift had no idea what to do next honestly. Since finding Ratchet he didn't want to leave him behind, not again.
"You're here, so I'll stay. Don't think your friends are going to like that though." He didn't think they would welcome him into team prime. "Does that mean I've got to become an autobot?"
"Don't worry about them, I'll handle it. They don't know your decepticon name, yet. I don't want to hear that name ever again. And yes, you'll become an autobot, because I said so."
Drift understands. "Alright." He was willing to do whatever Ratchet wanted. All he wanted was to have him back in his life again, to not throw away his second chance.
"Good. Now, let's have a closer look."
Drift feels Ratchet's servos touch both sides of his cheek platings, examining him further and making sure he didn't miss anything. But Drift slowly leans into the touch, purring, and reaches up to touch them both under his own. The action gets Ratchet's attention and they both stare at one another, the fondness slowly growing as the medic's optics soften.
Ratchet does like the purrs Drift makes, he always did, and hearing it again makes his knees feel weak. Such a strange effect it gives, yet so addictive. It's been so long since he last heard them, causing his feelings to stir wildly. As much as he hated him for his choices, he never stopped loving him.
Neither did Drift. He has a lot of regrets, but the one he'll always carry is he hurt Ratchet. He'll always carry the weight of that.
Leaning closer, Drift presses the front of their helms together, savouring the moment for as long as he can as his optics shutter closed. Ratchet doesn't lean away and lets it happen.
Drift wants to kiss him, and he tries to do this by leaning closer towards his lips, but Ratchet stops him. The moment is gone.
"It's too soon." Ratchet can only whisper, trying to keep his emotions from pouring out. "You left a deep wound, one I could never repair."
Drift knew he deserved that.
"Your injuries aren't the only recovery you'll be going through. There's a lot....between us, that needs time to heal. Won't be simple, but I need time to adjust to this, to trust you again."
"So there's a chance?" Drift held onto that hope.
Ratchet vents softly and caresses his servo against his cheek plating again, running his digit under his optics gently. "I hope so."
That's all Drift needs. "Take your time then."
Optimus gathered everything, even the humans, so they can all listen to what Ratchet has to say. Drift was resting and took this moment to explain some details to his friends. They've all been very patient.
"How's he doing?" It's June that asks, the only one who was kind enough to ask about Drift.
"Doing better. Still recovering, but he's making good progress." Ratchet answers.
He looks up at everyone who stares at him, all focus and attention. His optics glance over at Optimus who was there for him through this. It's time to reveal it.
"Drift and I have a long history, all the way to the time before the war started on cybertron. He hasn't made the best choices in his life, which is why things are messy between us, but he wants to change, make better choices. I'm willing to give him that second chance."
"I understand your concerns." Optimus then jumps in and speaks to everyone. "We both do, but I trust Ratchet to take charge of him, and I believe there's hope for Drift, to become better."
"So he's becoming an autobot?" Jack asked curiously.
"He will. It's a lot to ask but it would be a great help if everyone treated him fairly, so he can settle into this life. He's been alone for a long time without contact, it has affected him, but with time he'll adjust and do better." Ratchet explains.
"Is he like your best friend?" Raf asks innocently.
The medic gives himself a moment before finally saying it. "Drift is my conjunx endura."
"What?' Arcee quirks quickly in surprise.
"You never said you had one!" Bulkhead is just as surprised while Bumblebee lets out a bunch of whirls and beeps along with them.
"Ah, sorry, humans are confused here." Agent Fowler raises his hand. "What's a...conjunx endura?"
"Well, for humans to understand, we're married." Ratchet clarifies.
"What?!"
Ratchet knew this was going to be a shock to everyone, and he'll silently admit he was trying to avoid this moment, but knew that wasn't going to last forever. They had a right to know what Drift meant to him, and what happened.
"Drift comes from a troubled life. He got himself addicted to circuit boosters, drugs for humans to understand, lost himself, and Optimus found him, or at the time he was Orion. He brought him to me where I had my own medical centre, doing what I could for those who were considered lower classes. I saved his life there, and I saw just how lost he looked, so I gave him a choice to stay and help me out, or he could leave. He got clean and stayed, few of the smart choices he's ever made. Over time we grew fond of one another and...well, we ended up together for a long while, fell in love, things were good and we were happy." Ratchet remembers those fond memories with him before he close his optics.
"Than the war started. Megatron approached me, offered me a position as his head medic officer, but I declined. I thought that was it, but I was very wrong. Megatron got to Drift, manipulated his mind, gave him false hope, and he fell for it. The next time I saw him he wore the Decepticon badge. He was already convinced I was going to join him, but I refused. I got angry, expressed my disappointment loudly. The Drift I grew to love left that day and he became stone cold. Megatron gave him the order to destroy the medical centre and he did it, leaving me in ruins. Megatron gives him a new name..." Ratchet went quiet. He couldn't say it, and looks at Optimus, who understands
"Deadlock."
The name rings through the autobots. They all knew that name all too well. The horrors they've heard, the carnage left behind by the same bot that was now in their base.
The humans all take notice of their reactions. "You've heard of that name?"
"The very name that a lot feared." Arcee says to them, voice full of dread. "I never bumped into him, only heard what he had done, and it's nothing good."
"Drift is Deadlock? The very con that Megatron favoured?" Bulkhead struggled to process this.
"Why did Megatron favour him?" Jack sounds worried.
"Because of his lack of emotion, no empathy, and did as he was told without hesitation." Ratchet adds through a shaky vent. "But...he's coming back around, the Drift I know. After what happened, I joined Optimus to try to do what I could for the autobots, all the while trying to silently mend the damage done to my spark. As much as I hated Drift, I never stopped loving him, and always held on some hope he might come back."
"And he did." June says softly, moved by the story he told everyone to have a better understanding of what just happened. Though they were concerned about his past with the decepticons, they understood what Ratchet must be feeling to get his lover back again after so long.
Ratchet lets out a shaky vent and looks at everyone. "I'm willing to forgive for his mistakes, because that's my choice. I need to ask you all to respect our privacy, our past, and for there to be no further questions about Drift's time with the decepticons. Please, don't shut him out, give him a chance, get to know him. He might not be the smartest, and he's made terrible choices, but there is good in him."
"I don't like cons, but he seems...different." Miko perks up, looking over at Bulkhead. "I've gotten to know him a little, he's not so bad. Just have to ignore that history part with the cons."
Bulkhead groaned in displeasement but knew there wasn't really going to be any other way around this. Drift was going to become one of them, so they might as well start opening up to him.
"We'll do that." Arcee then says through a soft vent. "For you Ratchet, we'll give him a chance."
Ratchet feels himself relax a little hearing this. He had a pretty good team here. "Thank you."
Drift is up and walking. He then finds himself facing the autobots and humans, all looking at him as Optimus and Ratchet approach. Least they didn't have weapons drawn on him, it's a start.
Optimus is first to speak. "Drift, we've all talked to one another and Ratchet has informed the others about your bondage with him. It is Ratchet's wish to give you a second chance, for you to leave behind your past with the decepticons and to become one of our own. I ask for you to have zero connections with any decepticon and to prove yourself among our team here."
Drift looks at Ratchet who gives a simple nod at him. This was his chance to fix what he tore apart between them, to show he could be something better. He wanted that.
"Thanks, Optimus. I'll do whatever Ratty says, I don't want to let him down again, or anyone for that matter."
"Ratty?" June can't help but repeat through a small smile.
"None of you are allowed to call me that." Ratchet points at everyone with a firm glare.
"Only I can." Drift sends him a smirk knowing he was right about that.
"I'm going to lay down a few things as well." Ratchet starts as he steps closer towards him. "You'll follow our rules, our ways, no arguments or whining about it. You'll treat everyone here with respect and you'll be treated the same in return. Everything is going to be stripped, your model, colours, nothing that will give any decepticon a hint who you used to be, a complete new look. Understood?"
Drift listens and doesn't hesitate to nod. Like he said, whatever his Ratty wanted. He was in his control now. "Sure, alright." He gives a smile, sharp denta's lightly exposed.
Ratchet stares before pointing. "I'm removing those modified dentas." Drift's smile slips and goes to say something but Ratchet raises his servo. "Nope! They're going. They look ridiculous on you."
Drift vents heavily. Complete new look. "Alright...whatever you want."
"Wow, who are you and what have you done with Drift?" Miko asks the completely new looking robot sitting in the medical bay. She had just arrived with the others. It seemed Ratchet was very serious.
Drift sends the girl a soft smirk, sharp dentas now back to their default model along with most of his amour, colours neutral grey, ready for a new scan and colour.
"Ratchet wasn't kidding." He answers through a gentle chuckle. "But hey, I think it will be good to have something different."
"Something calm." Ratchet points out as he sets up some programs for Drift to scan and choose from. "Soft, nice, you know? Nothing dramatic."
"Ugh, such a control freak." Miko comes up onto the ramp along with the others.
Drift can't help but snicker. He liked humans. They were different, had a lot of character, he grew to like them very quickly in his short time there.
"What colour, Ratty?" Drift asks as he looks through some models.
"That's for you to decide."
"I want what you want."
"I want you to pick yourself. I'm sure you can't mess up on that." Ratchet doesn't mean for that to sound harsh, but it did. Drift shifts his amber optics at him, looking like a wounded feline, and Ratchet vents softly, lowering his voice. "I didn't mean-"
"It's fine." Drift doesn't want him to apologise, so he forces a smile. "I'll pick myself." He says trying to sound positive.
Ratchet nods and leaves him to it.
"Ouch." Miko whispers while hanging over the railing.
"Are things alright between you two?" The youngest Raf asks kindly.
"It's not simple, but it's progress." Drift answers honestly.
For a moment he scans through the new designs before looking up at Ratchet talking with Optimus. His optics scan over him and he smiles. He's picked a colour. Adding the program he scans the new look, his armour shifting colour and shape right in front of the kids to watch, astonished by the change happening before it finishes.
Drift looks at his reflection and smiles more. He looks good, very good. He now holds a very similar colour matching with Ratchet.
Drift shifts his optics at Ratchet who is looking at him now, a lingering enchantment holds in his optics as he stares at Drift. They both do indeed share the same colours, a similar design, with Drift only being more slender framed.
"It is cute." Drift sends Ratchet a wink.
Ratchet has to try to cool himself when he sees Drift. He wouldn't say it, but he feels himself heat up at the sight of his long lost mate looking like that. He likes the new look. Clearing his vocals, he nods simply. "Very nice."
Drift doesn't miss the pink hue at his white cheek plating.
Laying on his berth in his given room Drift finds himself staring at the ceiling and letting his processor run over everything that's happened. He was now an autobot, one of team prime. His servo runs over the new symbol over his chest and lets out a soft vent.
It's not that he was disgusted by it, but it does feel foreign still. All this was going to take time to adjust, to move on from his troubled past and do better for him and for Ratchet.
All that time ago, when he hurt him, he lost himself. He became something dark, horrible, one of Megatron's favourites because he did anything he was told. All those memories will forever haunt him, but he hopes he can move past all that and start over with Ratchet. It's all he wants.
The sudden knock at his door jolts him out of his thoughts and goes to open it. He stares at Ratchet who stands on the other side.
"Did I wake you?" Ratchet asks through a soft tone.
"No, recharge is...it's not easy these days." Drift admits.
Ratchet nods lightly. "Can I come in?"
Drift feels his spark thump rapidly as he nods, allowing him to enter and closing the door behind. He watches as Ratchet turns to face him, and there's that struggling look he held, when he wanted to say something but couldn't find the words.
Drift comes closer, calmly stepping in front of him and trying to look into his optics. He can feel the heat radiating from his charris that he wants to touch, but holds back.
"I wanted to see you." Ratchet manages to say. "I...I just want to be with you." Hearing this makes Drift smile, only for it to slip away hearing his next words. "But I'm scared you're going to hurt me again."
"I know." Drift knows he hurt him badly, he'll never forget that. "And...I'm scared you're never going to stop hating me."
"I don't hate you. I'm just trying to trust you again."
"What can I do?" Drift doesn't know himself. "Tell me what to do."
"No." Ratchet shakes his helm, face hardening. "I want you to decide for yourself, not what I or anyone else tells you." On his own free will, not in control.
Drift gets it now. So, he does that. He touches his face plating, running his digits across and savouring the warm feeling, before closing the distance and kissing him gently.
The kiss is simple and short, but it's what Drift wants, what Ratchet wants. It's broken for just a mere moment before Drift dives in again, slowly deepening it as he slides his servos across Ratchet's shoulders and running behind his neck. Without holding back anymore ratchet consumes the kiss they share and backs him back against the berth, leaning over and pressing himself between his thighs as their lingering heated moans fill the room.
"I've missed you." Ratchet manages to whisper between kisses. "Primus...I've missed you so much."
"I'm here, I'm right here, and I'm never leaving you." Drift says before he retracts his panel, revealing his already soaking valve and the housing opens for his spike to throb out. "Please, Ratty, I need you inside me."
Climbing up over him, Ratchet retracts his panel and his throbbing spike emerges from its housing. He rubs himself against Drift, sliding between the lips of his valve, catching his sensitive node with each thrust. Drift throws his helm back against the berth and wraps his legs tightly around his waist, tugging him close and eager to get him inside.
Finally, Ratchet sinks in, groaning lowly as his spike fills Drift, feeling every ridge running against his inner walls, all the while Drift arches his back as he's filled so perfectly, mouth open as he mewls lowly. He missed this, he missed Ratchet.
Ratchet holds himself up as best he could over Drift before he sets a pace, thrusting his hips against Drift while grunting and venting heavily.
"Ratty, so good, so fragging good!" Drift chants as he holds onto him, clenching his valve around his thickness while running his servos along Ratchet's arms.
However, Ratchet makes a blunt noise, as if he's trying something but is struggling, right before he stops moving and lets out an annoyed heavy vent.
"What's wrong?" Drift vents densely as he feels Ratchet's hesitation and tries to avoid his lingering stare, removing himself from his valve as he backs up. "Hey, hey, Ratty, talk to me. D-did I do something wrong?" He touches his face plating and watches as Ratchet's optics shutter closes and leans into his touch.
"No, no, you did nothing wrong. It's me."
"What do you mean?" Drift shifts closer, placing his other servo over his shoulder and listening to whatever he might want to say.
"It's embarrassing." Ratchet rolls his helm a little. Though he knew Drift wasn't going to let this slide, the concern hanging over his face causing him to vent once more. "I'm old. My stamina isn't what it use to be."
Realization hits Drift. So that's it. He can't hold back a smile.
"Don't you dare laugh." Ratchet warns but this only causes Drift to giggle lightly. "It's not funny."
"I'm not laughing." Drift only fails as he continues to giggle.
"Stop that, you're still laughing."
"I'm not, I'm not." Drift forces himself to calm down and bit back his smile before caressing his face. "Ratty, it's alright. Don't worry about it." Leaning close he kisses him gently. "How about you let me on top? Let me take care of you."
Drift gently pushes Ratchet onto the berth and has him lay down before straddling his lap, thighs trapping against his waist while his exposed valve rubs along Ratchet's throbbing spike, causing soft moans to leave from both of them. Drift hovers closer towards Ratchet's face with a tender smile.
"You always took care of me, now it's my turn to take care of you." Leaning closer, Drift kisses him, letting it linger before gently pushing his glossa inside, coiling with Ratchet's.
Positioning himself he sinks back down onto Ratchet's thick spike and starts to ride him, rolling his hips slowly, rocking himself and riding his spike slowly.
Ratchet moves his servos to his waist, gripping his digits into his soft armour while keeping the kiss deep between them, letting out short moans and feeling more comfortable like this.
Drift vents softly into the kiss, letting out short muffled moans as he sucks at Ratchet's glossa, clenching in sync with his movements as he rides him. He moves his servo between them and he starts to stroke himself, rubbing his tip gently before pumping his servo over, arousal and pleasure quickly boiling between them.
"Drift...Primus....you're so tight." Ratchet gently praises between heated moans against his lips.
"Ratty, oh Ratty! I feel so full, filling me so good." Drift presses his forehead against Ratchet's, keeping close while riding his thick spike buried deep in his valve, rubbing against his ceiling node while Ratchet takes over to stroke Drift's cable then.
Moments like these were dreamed between the two over their time apart from each other. So much war, hate, and now reunited, lost in the moment as if nothing happened.
Drift holds a firmer grip, throwing his weight down over again more firmly, clenching around the perfectly ridged spike throbbing in his valve and rubbing against his inner walls. Moans grew more feral between the two as Ratchet kept his moving servo around Drift, feeling ever twitch and transfluid coating his digits and along the length, wet sounds growing more louder as fluids start to build and pool
Tossing his helm back, Drift lets out a louder mewl, crying out in bliss as he rides Ratchet's spike more densely. "Frag, Ratty, frag, I won't be able to hold it back!"
"Do it, let yourself go." Ratchet gives the all clear between heated vents, because he too wasn't too far off from overloading either. "Let's do it together, same time."
Drift beams warmly through the intense pleasure boiling through him as he grinds himself down over again, venting and gasping sharply, soon muffled as Ratchet kisses him firmly and feels his spike suddenly erupt deep within him, thick ropes of fluids coating his inner walls with some dripping out. Within a moment he bites his lips and gasps out sharply as his own transfluids coat between him and Ratchet, a pink glow covering over Ratchet's digits as well.
Taking his servo, Drift lifts it up to his mouth and sucks at his digits to clean to fluids, tasting himself and letting out a delightful hum around each of them. Ratchet is always heated and flushed, he didn't think it would be possible to be even more, but he was wrong when Drift did this.
"So beautiful." He whispers, allured by the delightful sight as his cooling fans kick in along with Drift's.
"You're just as pretty." Drift whispers through a luminous smile. "I love you, Ratty. I never stopped loving you. My spark will always belong to you, my beloved."
Ratchet feels his very spark jump at his words. "I love you too, Drift. Always have and always will. We'll make this work, I promise."
Drift ends up snuggled up against Ratchet, tangled under his embrace as he purrs gently against his charris. Ratchet missed that purr, a soothing vibration and sound he always cherished.
"We'll be alright, won't we?" Ratchet asks as he caresses the back of Drift's helm.
"I believe so." He hums lightly, giving him a gentle nuzzle. "You've never loosing me ever again."
*after writing half a dozen drafts and not getting the chapter tone quite right*
Me: I need a distraction. Plot bunnies, come to me!
Me: it'll just be a little one-shot, something cracky to reset my brain...
*a week later*
Me: that was a really good idea. I'm writing it!
*an entire holiday weekend later*
Me: shit, this is definitely gonna need another chapter. Did I just wrote half a fic while sleep-deprived?
Me: there's something missing. *writes some more*
Me *looks at word count*: 6K?! WTF? *sigh* so much for a little one-shot. Let's plot the other chapter.
basically college byler where will draws on Mike you’ll see if you read it 😎 my writers block is gone, although my crappy fics are back, I wrote this in three hours - have fun!
Mike had quite a day.
College was…. a lot. Mike was only a freshman, but it was about three months into the school year. It was marginally better than highschool, seeing as there was a lot more diversity outside of Hawkins, and much less insufferable characters like Troy.
Mike found that being bullied in college was a rare thing, and that everyone is struggling just as much as you are.
Besides the rich assholes who don’t have jobs, of course.
But another think Mike was grateful for at this school was his roommate. Thankfully, Mike and Will were able to room together, because they both sent in request forms and the school had approved it.
He was used to sharing a room with Will, because the Byers had moved in once before. It was after they had saved the world, something Mike liked to bring up in the company of the party quite often. He did save Will, and Will was forever in his debt for it. Although since Mike always felt bad for making Will feel like a damsel in distress, he simply stated that he helped in saving the world.
Sharing a dorm with Will was - odd. He of course was an angel, and respectful of any privacy Mike might’ve had. He picked up after himself, kept his side organized, and was generally an amazing roommate.
Mike however, was not. Sure he was kind and picked up after himself, but he was the opposite of organized. Piled of clothes lined his floors, papers, journals filled with essays and short stories, and finally empty cans of Coke.
“Are you ever gonna clean all that up?” Will asked as Mike looked up from lying atop his useless little twin bed. He didn’t have a bed frame, so it was just two mattresses stacked on top of eachother laying on the floor.
“Clean what?” He asked, feigning innocence.
“Your room, dude. It’s gross.” Will was sitting on his bed respectively, staring at Mike, who was reading The Lord of the Rings.
“Pfft, it’s fine. I’ll get to it soon enough.”
“Seriously?” Will continued to stare, although he couldn’t help but smile a little at Mike’s idiocracy.
“Didn’t Einstein say people with messy rooms have higher IQ’s?”
“Are you saying you have a higher IQ because your side is disgusting?”
“Maybe…?”
“No. Nobody said that. Clean. Now.” Will said with a chuckle.
Mike smiled back, in their lighthearted jabbing. He didn’t want to be a burden for Will, even if it was half-jokingly. So he closed his book, and sat up. He stood, and began to pick his things up.
“Wait- you’re actually gonna do it this time?” Will said, looking surprised as ever.
“Might as well. If I don’t do it now, I’m not going to later.” Mike replied, putting his book on their endless shared bookshelf.
The room was quite nice, really. It was fit for three people, and fit the two of them nicely. There was an en suite bathroom, and Mike had the courtesy to get an item holder for the shower.
Mike’s side was, as you know, messy. But it was also quite cool. He had posters hanging on every inch of the walls, and even one on the ceiling. He had a corkboard on the wall his bed was pushed up against, and it had graded creative writing papers on it, as well as a drawing Will made, and some planning stuff. He had a calendar, nailed to the wall his headboard should’ve been on. On occasion, Will would write little notes on it, like have a great day!, or reminders like ‘finish your gd essay, it’s due in two days! :(‘.
He didn’t plan on using it much that year, but the little notes made it all the more fun.
Will’s side was organized and clean. His bed was always made, with a soft yellow bedspread, and pictures on the walls. He had a shelf above his bed, and it was filled to the brim with miniature figurines he painted. At the end of his bed was his desk, where he painted things or worked on art projects. Off to the side of this desk was an energy drink can, and two flags sticking out of it. One was an assortment of green, white, and blue colors, while the other was a rainbow.
Mike never paid much attention to these flags, until he learned their meanings. Will had come out to him far before their college expidition, in junior year of highschool.
Mike seemed to understand more than he thought he would, although still had many questions. Will was always open to them, but it was odd to try and ask.
The last time he asked about something similar to it was when he didn’t know why someone had a green checkered flag in their back pocket.
He knew somewhat what it meant, but asked just to clarify. After that, he kept asking, and learning more about the culture.
Usually he didn’t care very much, or was just overwhelmed by how much there was of it. But these little flags seemed to have a chokehold on his brain.
It wasn’t that he disliked them, he thought they were very pretty. Blue and green were his favorite colors, and he liked the rainbow.
It was just odd to see how much they meant in a community.
The rest of Will’s room was quite pretty, covered in twinkle lights and practically basking in the golden hour when their window lit up.
It was like a sunset had swept the entire school up in a warm hug.
As Mike cleaned, he thought about Will. His room, his clothes, the pictures on his walls. He thought about all the drawings he had asked to pin ok his corkboard, and the ones he watched Will scrap.
Picking up all his clothes and putting them in the dresser they shared, he thought about how Will kept up with all his outfits. They always looked quite nice, but he tended to fuss over it a lot.
Smoothing out his newly placed blankets, he thought about how will’s bed was always made, and how the yellow bedspread complimented the room so nicely.
Finally he was done. His bed was made, his clothes were put away, and he threw away any trash in the room. All that was on his bed was his book, his headphones, and his MacBook.
He sat down, and looked at Will, who was in the same place as before.
He saw Will’s head move quickly, to look back at the pen in his hands.
“You okay there?” Mike questioned, watching as Will’s neck began to turn pink, along with his ears.
“What?” Will looked up again, and Mike saw the pink spread to his cheeks.
“Oh.. ye-yep! All good.” He responded in an odd tone.
“Whoa, what’re you doing?” Mike walked over to Will’s bed, and saw his hand.
His arms and legs were covered in little drawings, fish bones, frogs, hands, stars, anything.
It was honestly kind of amazing.
“Oh, that. I uh, I like to draw on myself. Is that… weird…?” He asked slowly with an embarsssed look on his face.
“No!” Mike said far too quickly for his liking.
“No, no it’s awesome! How did you do that?”
“I mean, I just kinda start drawing, really.”
“Can you do me?” The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them, but they were out in the open and he couldn’t take them back.
He felt his face become redder than Will’s.
“I,” Will began, and Mike interrupted him.
“You don’t have to, if you don’t want to.”
“I want to!” Will said, even faster this time. His eyes got wide as he said this, until Mike grinned, and his face softened marginally.
“Great!”
Will patted the bed in front of him and Mike sat down. He crossed his legs, but he didn’t know what to do with his hands.
Will grabbed his hand from his knee, and placed it on his own. He grabbed his pen, and began drawing.
“Geez, that’s sharp.” Mike said, making a face as Will dragged the pen on his skin.
“Oh, I can st-“
“No, no keep going. It’s nice.”
Mike got used to the ballpoint on his skin, although it still hurt.
After mike made another face, Will stopped drawing. He looked at Mike and his face lit up.
“I have an idea. Stay here.” He said as he got up, and rushed to his desk.
“I dunno if you’re up for it, but what if I painted on you instead?”
His face flushed even harder, looking redder than a tomato, but he looked excited nonetheless. Paint sounded much more soothing than a ballpoint pen, so Mike nodded.
“Go put on clothes you can get paint on.”
“Are you kidding? I’m wearing them.”
Mike genuinely didn’t care if his clothes had paint on them, or at least he didn’t in the moment.
“Oh, well I’ll be right back.”
Will went to the dresser and pulled out a heavily paint stained pair of overalls, and a black tshirt. It was hardly black though, with the amount of rainbow colored paint splattered on it.
He walked to the bathroom and came out wearing the clothes.
He was so… cute, in those little overalls.
His hair was messy from getting it on, and his socks were bright purple.
“Get up for a second, I’ve gotta put my canvas tarp over the bed so we can sit on it while I paint on you.”
The scentence was odd to hear, but Mike complied, and stood up as Will grabbed it from his desk, unfolded it, and draped it over the bed.
It was covered in an assortment of colors, but mostly blue. A lot of blue.
“Will?”
“Hm?”
“Why is there so much blue on your tarp?”
His face got even brighter red than before, before looking down at his socks and walking to grab his paintbrushes as he mumbled.
“I… use a lot of blue. I like blue.”
“Oh…. Cool.”
“Yeah, cool. Now come on, sit down while I get my paints.”
Mike complied, and laid on his back on the bed.
“Hey, your paints aren’t toxic or anything, right?” He asked as he stared at the ceiling.
“What? No, no, this is just acrylics. Long as I don’t get it in your eyes you’ll be fine.”
“Oh, ok good.”
Mike paused.
“Wait are you gonna paint my face?”
“Only if you want me to.”
“Oh.”
“Well…?”
“What?”
“Do you want me to?”
“Uhh… let’s cross that bridge when we get to it, yeah?”
“Sure.”
It would be overstepping to paint Mike’s face right? He couldn’t ask Will to do that, that’s weird. What if Will thinks it’s crossing a line that best friends shouldn’t cross?
To be honest, painting on your best friend is already crossing some lines, but they were really close. And it was Will’s idea, so he must be okay with it, right?
Will had gathered his paints, and made little dollops of them on a paint pallette, that he held with his thumb.
He walked to the bed, and Mike sat up, resuming their previous places.
Will took his hand once again, and rolled up his sleeve.
“Wait, are you gonna do my whole arm?”
“I can, yeah. Why?”
Mike got off the bed, and walked to his own. He had one shirt that was perfect for this, but it made him quite uncomfortable around anybody else.
It was his muscle shirt. It was tight, although it was the only shirt he had who’s sleeves were short enough for Will.
He pulled at the hem of his own shirt, and removed it. He could practically feel Will’s piercing stare from behind, as he put on this tight shirt. It was very comfy, and it made him look nice, but it was noticably tight.
If it was anybody but Will, he would cover his stomach, or choose a different shirt altogether, but it wasn’t.
It was Will. So he meandered back to the bed, and saw Will keep looking away from Mike once again.
“You good?” He asked, as he sat crossing his legs in front of Will.
“Yeah, yep. Come on.” Will replied, grabbing his hand again, and placing it on his knee.
He held his paint pallette gently, and began to paint. Little swirls, color blocking Mike’s hand.
First was light greens, and then purples. Will chose paste colors to compliment Mike’s already pale skin.
Then came the blues, yellows, and pinks.
The paintbrush and the chilly paint were tingly and soft on his skin. It felt really nice, and extremely relaxing.
He felt his eyes begin to droop. Slower and slower, he got more tired.
He remembered that he didn’t sleep the night before, because he kept having nightmares.
With his hand on will’s knee, and their knees touching, he slowly leaned forward, and laid his forehead on Will’s shoulder.
He closed his eyes. Will’s neck was so close. He bet his neck was nice and warm.
Mike was getting oddly delerious.
Will paused, and then continued to paint, covering oatches of untouched skin on Mike’s arm.
As Will moved up his arm, to his bicep, Mike could feel himself drifting into sleep.
But sleep did not come.
What did, was the fantasies. And the daydreaming.
As his eyes fluttered in and out of his dreamy state, he bagan to think.
He sat up, and stared at Will.
“Do you wanna paint my back?”
“Yeah.”
He took off his shirt, and turned around. He could feel the cold paintbrush moving along his spine. Swirling, creating beautiful patterns on his skin.
He turned back around to look at the adorable boy that sit before him.
He gently takes the paintbrush out of his hands, and grabs his shoulders.
He leans in, and-
Mike wakes up.
Head still on Will’s shoulder, but in a different situation. The sun had just set, so rays of pink and yellow light were shining through the window and lighting up the room.
By now, will had moved onto painting Mike’s other arm.
He was just about to finish painting his bicep.
Mike was still heavily delerious, and he could feel it in his muscles. He felt heavy, and weak at the same time. His eyes were tired, so he kept them closed, and just felt the soft paintbrush on his skin.
Will had created a masterpiece on his arm. It was a a galaxy, covered in stars, and colors.
The most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
Besides the creator of it.
Without even opening his eyes, he could see how amazing will looked basked in the light.
He could imagine how perfectly it lit up his eyes, or how amazingly it made his hair and his skin glow. How the light would hit his face, his soft features, and his adorable freckles.
He basically belonged in this post-sunset light. It couldn’t ever fit anyone else this perfectly.
Delerious and tired, Mike felt the warmth of Will’s neck. He had gotten closer, and how his face was buried in Will’s neck instead of his forehead on his shoulder.
His cologne was so perfectly intoxicating. Not only did it smell like pine needles and art supplies, it was so identifiably Will.
He smelled amazing, he looked intricate and adorable and he was so talented. Creating beautiful works of art on people who could never deserve it.
As slowly as humanly possible, Mike tilted up his chin. The side of his face was now tucked into the crook of his neck, and he could feel the skin of will’s neck on his nose. He tilted his face up more, and more and…
His lips met skin. He planted the tiniest kiss on Will’s neck.
His paintbrush stopped moving. His shoulders tensed up, and Mike realised what he did.
Just as slowly as before, he picked his head up, squeezed his eyes shut, and faced will. Their hands were still together, and he finally opened his eyes.
“M-Mike?” Will stuttered out in a quiet whisper.
His eyes were wide, his face was the color of blood. His eyes sparkled in the sunlight.
Mike was right.
He was gorgeous.
The pink lighting made him look so perfect.
The way his hair was messed up, how the light made his long eyelashes glow, the way it perfectly complimented his skin.
All Mike could do is think about how much he wanted to keep kissing his neck.
How much he wanted to plant kisses all over Will’s perfect face.
“I’m sorry, Will.” He mumbled almost silently.
They sat there for a moment, just staring at eachother as Mike sat in his own personal hell, looking the most gorgeous person alive, knowing he made a mistake.
Until…
“For what?” Will whispered back.
Mike couldn’t help but smile, and leaned in.
Hesitantly at first, he skowly kissed Will’s neck. Planting soft and warm kisses in a trail, his neck, his Adam’s apple, his jaw.
All the way to his adorable lips.
Will cupped Mike’s face in his and pulled him into a swift kiss.
Rather than the soft ones Mike had began with, Will turned this kiss into something more. Something desparate.
Pulling apart and being pulled back together, over and over. Every swipe of their tongues was just another memory of when they couldn’t. Of when they took care of eachother as teenagers. How they knew everything about eachother for their whole lives, just waiting for this exact moment.
Drowning and living in Will’s perfectness, dying for more and more, every second of it.
Mike moved forward, and Will laid back, their chests on top of one another, as if they were being ripped from eachother and they needed to be as close as possible.
The kiss turned from desparate, to kind.
They pulled away and kissed again, this time slower. Everything a first kiss should be. Sweet memories, even sweeter tastes. Will tastes like caramel, and everythibg Mike ever imagined. He tasted like the brownies they would make together, like the snacks they would have at sleepovers. He felt soft, and kind, like all the times they held hands as kids when they went anywhere. Mike pulled away, his nose still touching Will’s face, breathing in eachother’s scent.
“Thank you will.” He breathed, before continuing to pepper kisses all over Will’s face, and back down his jaw.
“For what?”
Mike stopped.
He looked up and into Will’s intoxicating eyes.
“Everything.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means… that I l-love you. I love you will.”
Will’s face lit up with happiness, and grabbed Mike’s face with a clutch like he was being torn away from him.
“Mike. I have loved you for so- fucking- long. You were just too dumb to see it. I love you, you dumbass. I didn’t even know you liked guys.”
“Are you kidding me? I didn’t even know I liked guys.”
They chuckled, and Will pulled Mike’s face in and kissed him again.
“Well? You do, right?”
“Fuck yeah. I assumed that was obvious.”
“To everyone else, yes, apparently.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I mean when I asked Robin, she knew immediately.”
“You asked Robin if I liked guys?”
“Well, yeah…? Not like I could ask Steve, or Johnathan.”
“Why not them?”
“Robin’s gay. She likes girls. Specifically this girl we went to highschool with.”
“Wow.”
“What?”
“No, I just didn’t know Robin was gay. I can’t believe she thought I was.”
“Is that so bad?”
“Not here, now. A year ago it might’ve been, but I’ve known for a while. I’m getting used to it.”
“How long have you known?”
“Since junior year of highschool. I hated it, really. Felt like this-“
“This monster, like the ones in stories.”
“Well - yeah, how’d you know that?”
“I went through all that way before you did.”
“Really? How long did you know?”
“Try seventh grade.”
“Oh my god, I didn’t know that.”
“I think everyone else did.”
“Eugh, I don’t miss that. The bullying, those moronic idiots just standing there waiting for us to say something back.”
“Me either.”
Their conversation trailed off, and this time, Will nuzzled his face into Mike’s neck.
After a few pecks on his jaw, they both began to drift into sleep. Peaceful, nightmareless sleep.
Clouds Hidden Beneath The Sun - [Yuta Okkotsu x Reader]
Chapter 1: In that common summer season, I fell in love like it was magic
August 2017
“If you don’t take me seriously,” Y/n leered, “I’ll just kill you.”
Blood dripped down Okkotsu’s arm and soaked his white jacket while light bruises littered Y/n’s body. She was livid—this boy had the audacity to go easy on her during their first encounter. It didn’t matter whether or not this was only a Goodwill Event, she wanted to experience his full potential. She wanted to feel the other special grade’s wrath. Gojo-sensei’s judgments are never wrong, having him speak about your potential was no small feat—there had to be more to this timid boy than what he showed. Y/n no longer cared about the rules of this event, she would force Okkotsu Yuta to show his hand.
“You don’t understand how dangerous Rika is,” he repeated.
Y/n could sense that the curse was itching to join the fight, after the way she thrashed Yuta around.
“You don’t understand how much I couldn’t care less, so be it.” She stood up straight, “Domain Expansion…”
Okkotsu’s eyes widened as he understood just how serious she was.
“Hys-”
“Fine, you’ll get your way” Okkotsu sighed, “But I apologize in advance.”
Y/n only smiled.
“Rika,” he said with a grim expression.
Y/n’s heart pounded in her chest as she narrowly dodged the curse’s massive claws—the inhumane shriek was enough of a warning for Y/n to go on the offensive. Her eyes widened as she sensed Okkotsu appear behind her and send a kick to her stomach, sending her flying into the nearest construct. Rika was already rushing towards her by the time Y/n stood up, blood trickling down her forehead and onto her jacket. Y/n just barely dodged the attack this time, her claws grazing Y/n’s throat and ripping up her jacket. Their attacks were coordinated and lethal, Y/n had to concentrate closely to keep up with both of them. She panted heavily as she watched Okkotsu and Rika stand a few meters away, watching her.
Y/n’s breath was erratic, sweat and blood trickling onto her jacket as her body ached and burned—She was excited! Okkotsu maintained his offensive stance as Y/n threw her jacket aside and pulled out her daggers.
“Cursed Technique: Distortion.” Y/n said.
Okkotsu’s eyes widened as he saw multiple Y/n’s appear and disappear. He blinked and when he opened his eyes, Y/n appeared and landed multiple hits on his body then countered Rika’s attack, landing multiple hits on her. Okkotsu gritted his teeth, he could barely see his surroundings or hear Y/n’s movements but he could hear Rika’s loud shrieks of rage and pain. He took a deep breath, giving up on seeing and focused on feeling their cursed energy. Y/n knew Okkotsu would find a way to counter her distortion, but focused her attention on Rika—Y/n was unable to land a hit on her normally so relied on harshly countering her attacks. Y/n’s body was completely numb, the only thing she felt was the way her heart pounded in her chest and blood thrummed in her veins.
She felt something swell inside her as Okkotsu spoke and called back Rika, “Cursed Technique: Mimicry.”
“Cursed Technique: Passion” Y/n couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped her lips, the sound was amplified in her ears almost as loud as her heart beat.
“That’s the attitude,” she said enthusiastically as all her wounds healed instantly, “give me your all, Okkotsu Yuta!”
The next few events were a blur for them both because they lost consciousness.
—
Okkotsu opened his eyes to see the orange hues of the evening sky outside through the window of his hospital room. All his senses had returned and he turned his head to the other side to see Gojo Satoru leaning against a wall, his head hanging low—he remembered the Goodwill event.
“Oh my god is she dead!?” Okkotsu panicked and sat up, wincing slightly. His arms, knee and ankle were wrapped tightly in bandages.
“Yes,” Gojo said grimly.
Okkotsu’s heart dropped to his feet and his eyes glossed over.
“Just kidding,” Gojo laughed.
Utahime entered their hospital room, scowling at Gojo, “Y/n is perfectly fine, her body just needs more time to recover.”
“Oh, and we won the goodwill event,”Gojo added after wiping away his tears.
“Really?…we both passed out though,” Okkotsu said sheepishly, “I felt like she was still attacking when I lost consciousness…is she always so aggressive?”
“No, she’s usually very reserved actually.” Utahime smiled.
“We won because Y/n violated a few rules by threatening your life and all, nothing severe enough for punishment unless you have a problem with it.” Gojo smirked.
“Do you?” Utahime asked.
“No…not at all,” Yuta trailed off, ‘I actually thought she was going to kill me.’
“Her cursed energy is almost endless and she held her own against me and Rika without even using her domain expansion. Her power is insane. Her physical capabilities are almost as good as Maki’s…Is she really the same age and grade as me?” Okkotsu reflected, “She’s not even at her full potential yet and that’s…the power of a special grade.”
His face turned a light shade of pink as he recalled the events.
“It’s scary, really.” Utahime said before leaving.
“You’re not at your full potential either,” Gojo walked towards the exit, “..I’m gonna go check on Y/n.”
Okkotsu could hear Gojo’s unsaid words, ‘So you better keep training rigorously.’ He planned to take them to heart, so he could proudly say he’s on the same level as someone as skilled as Y/n.
Okkotsu reached for his phone and saw a few messages.
Jujutsu High School First Years
Panda: Okkotsu won us the Goodwill Event! 🎉
Maki: I heard Y/n wiped the floor with him.
Inumaki: Same.
Yuuta: Guys 😅 she was really scary….
Inumaki: Isn’t Maki scary?
Inumaki: Isn’t Rika scary?! 💀
Panda: You see scary women everyday, there is no excuse…
Maki: 😐
In truth, Okkotsu hadn’t intended on using Rika at all. He was comfortable with using them against curses but not other sorcerers, much less fellow students. Y/n knew how to press his buttons and force his hand. Rather than swiftly defeating him, she chose to drag out the fight and let the humility set in. When that didn’t work she became frustrated and simply threatened his life with a domain expansion. It wasn’t Y/n’s aggression that made him comply, but her confidence that convinced him she could handle Rika too. He decided to go on the offensive in order to satiate her curiosity but that only seemed to feed it. Although it was most likely unintentional, Okkotsu hated the noises Rika made as Y/n began to overpower her—and it was what pushed him to use his cursed technique. Y/n went absolutely feral and forced Okkotsu to keep up, pushing the limits he had set for himself until he had passed out with no clear recollection of the fight’s conclusion. He couldn’t stop his mind from repeating the sound of her voice as she activated her second cursed technique; passion. Her vehement expressions were burned into his mind, whether he liked it or not—Okkotsu couldn’t decide.
—
Mrs. Fujino’s lips were in a thin line as she stared down at her 3 month old baby. The father was away on a mission while she was forced to take maternity leave. It was suffocating and lonely to bear a child to a man you have no affection for. It was the middle of the night, past 3am when the baby continued to cry.
“What do you want from me, affection?” she sneered.
She fed it. She kept it clean. She walked around with it for hours. The woman was going insane trying to consider what else the baby could possibly need. She was exhausted, her eyebags prominent, cheeks sunken and puke stained her clothes. Her eyes closed and hands gripped the pillow tightly and pressed it onto the source of noise. Her breath of relief was caught in her throat as she was harshly shoved to the ground.
“ARE YOU MAD!?” Mr. Fujino had come home early.
“I’M TIRED!!” the woman stayed on the floor, hands tugging at the hair on her scalp, “OF YOU AND THAT STUPID FUCKING-”
Mr. Fujino’s body moved on its own when he backhanded her. The woman froze in place and didn’t even look back at him. He opened his mouth to apologize but his expression hardened when the baby began to cry again.
He reached into the crib and took the child into his arms, “Neither of us wanted this arrangement but we had established a mutual respect. It won’t be so anymore if I see you put a hand on my child again. I won’t let my months of suffering with you go to waste.”
The woman began to sob as he left the room with the baby.
~~
Y/n’s eyebrows furrowed as she woke up from a nightmare, her throat dry and the smell of hospital and flowers filled her nose. She opened her eyes to see the cloudy night sky, almost void of stars. Gojo Satoru sat in a chair facing the hospital bed with his usual smirk on his face, Y/n blinked at him for a few moments—she stiffened as she remembered the events.
“What’s my damage?”
“No streak for Kyoto!” he cheered, “You lost the Goodwill event”
“That’s all?” Y/n asked.
“On Tokyo’s behalf, yes.” Gojo mused, “Though, I have no idea what Yoshinobu has in store for you.”
“During the fight, I was able to use Passion...and I realized that I need more practice with simultaneously using my cursed techniques.” Y/n stated, “I might want to see him again in the future so I hope I didn’t terrify him.”
“Ah, teen romance,” Gojo jested, “I remember my first love.”
Y/n stared blankly at him, opting to leave her poisonous words unsaid.
“On a serious note, it’s nothing he can’t recover from” Gojo continued, ”I believe you’ll make a lot of progress after fighting Okkotsu but remember to take it easy first. I’m late to a meeting, see ya!”
Y/n picked up her phone and saw multiple messages.
2017 Goodwill event
Momo: We lost the goodwill event 😒Okkotsu could barely keep up with Y/n
Aoi: If Y/n wanted to win, she would have
Aoi: Boring people like you wouldn’t understand
Noritoshi: We should respect Y/n’s decision no matter what the outcome was.
Aoi: You have a crush on her. We get it, Kamo.
Momo: The principal is gonna be fuming
Noritoshi: I don’t think he’ll do anything excessive
Y/n: *one attachment*
Y/n: I’m awake
Momo: 😗 you’re always so pretty
Y/n: I was aware of what the consequences would be when I got carried away in the fight
Y/n: I have no regrets so don’t worry about what happens to me
Y/n: I am looking forward to being discharged 😚 hospital food isn’t very good
Y/n swallowed hard as she opened her mother’s message, it was a 10 minute long voice note. A chill ran down her spine as she played it. There was some static in the background, she was traveling somewhere.
‘Are you stupid or just insane?’ She began until my father’s voice cut her off.
‘Ignore your mother, she’s just very tired. We heard about what happened at the Goodwill event. That behavior was very-’ He was cut off by her this time.
‘Irresponsible and foolish!! I thought we raised you better than this’ she spat.
‘Anyways, I heard you threatened to use your domain expansion. You do realize the amount of trouble you would have caused us if you successfully initiated it, don’t you? I understand that boy is also a special grade but that doesn’t justify your recklessness. In fact, that person was only introduced to the Jujutsu world a few months ago. Unlike you, he was a normie for the majority of his life. You rarely make these types of bad decisions so principal Yoshinobu won’t give you a judgment too harsh, but it is out of our hands.’ My father spoke in a condescending but neutral tone.
He never raised his voice or showed anger towards his family. He was quite straightforward with us because he was confident he knew what was best, ignoring our feelings in the process. Y/n knew her father had a hard time expressing his feelings. It’s ironic that his marriage was arranged with a woman who could barely contain hers. The rest of the voicenote was her mother being angry, Y/n was unsure if this anger ever came from a place of concern for her daughter. The woman never hesitated to say the most hurtful things to anybody because she was one of the strongest Jujutsu Sorcerers in the world. Who could humble her, really?
‘Even if he is a special grade, behaving like that over a boy is embarrassing. Are you desperate for attention? Did we not give you enough? You’re disappointing me.’ Y/n felt her excitement rapidly drain from her body to be replaced with a disgusting feeling—shame. She knew she was better off not taking her mother’s words to heart and held back her tears, she was good at it.
Both of Y/n’s parents were grade one sorcerers—borderline special grade and happened to be decent acquaintances. Which is why they were arranged to be married and give birth to a child who could be a special grade. Everyone’s expectations for Y/n were always high and she was capable of fulfilling them. However, nobody gets praised for doing something that’s expected of them. Her parents made that clear.
At the end of the voicenote her father took the phone from her mother and sighed, ‘Don’t take her words to heart, you know how she just speaks nonsense sometimes. Our mission is almost over so we’ll be home in a few days. Goodbye Y/n.’
Y/n looked down at her lap as a few heavy tears left her eyes, “shit.”
—
The Sister-Exchange event was called to an abrupt end due to the amount of damage done to the area and Y/n was being discharged from the hospital today. Her friends were waiting for her return but she had one more thing to do.
“Okkotsu Yuta.” she called out.
She was hesitant about this encounter and approached him with a cold expression. The familiar voice instantly caught his attention—although, there was no longer that terrifying edge to it that activated his fight or flight.
“Y/n Fujino…I’m glad that you recovered well,” he said awkwardly.
His timid nature brought a smirk to her lips, “Are you scared of me?”
“Kind of,” he said honestly.
“As a fellow special-grade first year, I was only curious to see where your current power ceiling was,” she said, “I mean, you were only a normie a few months ago. It was foolish for me to make you show your hand when I have more experience with sorcery than you…experience means more than classification, so I apologize if you felt threatened by a few of my parlor tricks.”
The aggressive edge to her voice was replaced with a passive poison, Okkotsu recognized when he was being patronized. In fact, he disliked this passive aggressiveness more than Maki’s straightforward attitude.
‘This girl…really knows how to get on my nerves.’
“Is that your version of an apology?”
“Were you expecting one?”
“No, but I expected accountability. I don’t think a domain expansion would be classified as a ‘parlor trick’.”
“Okay, I’ll admit my last comment was unnecessary.” Y/n paused, “...my words weren’t meant to be that offensive. What I meant is that you have a lot of potential as a Jujutsu Sorcerer and seeing a glimpse of your power made me expect more. What I did was irresponsible and in the moment I used your classification to excuse my actions.”
“Oh, thank you…” he felt his face turn red, “I don’t think you owe me an apology or anything. I’ve heard alot of things about you and none of them mentioned being unhinged so for a moment I wondered if you had something personal against me. Fighting you made me realize all the things I have to continue working on so I can accomplish my goals, so there’s really no hard feelings.”
Y/n laughed and felt herself become flustered too, “I don’t hate you or anything, I assure you….where are you headed? I’m assuming you’re unfamiliar with Kyoto.”
‘Okay, maybe she’s not too bad.’ Okkotsu thought, ‘Alot of Jujutsu Sorcerers are bad at expressing themselves so I probably shouldn’t take it too personally…’
“I’m headed to Kyoto station. You don’t have to accompany me if you’re busy.”
“I’m headed in that direction too, so it’s not a bother” she began to walk.
Y/n’s parents were opportunists, like any other respected Jujutsu Family; they taught her how to properly reconcile. Okkotsu didn’t seem like the type of person to hold grudges so this was unnecessary, Y/n knew that but she did want to know more about him—let’s call it—networking. That is what this was.
The sky was clear and the sun shined brightly. The cool breeze blew softly on this warm summer day. The street was busy and the sidewalks were mostly empty until they reached the main road. The silence weighed heavily on Okkotsu as they walked together on the sidewalk. Since making friends at Jujutsu High, Okkotsu was convinced his social skills had improved but in this situation, it felt like all his progress was evaporating into thin air.
Y/n’s attitude was relaxed, perhaps borderline uninterested as they walked together but she was just as aware of the awkwardness. It was intentional because she didn’t want to carry the conversation. If Yuta wanted to speak, she resolved that he would.
“Why did you become a Jujutsu Sorcerer?” Okkotsu spoke up.
“Both my parents are exceptional grade 1 sorcerers, so I was put on the jujutsu path from the day I was born. Everyone would have been quite disappointed in me if I let my talents go to waste and besides, I couldn’t imagine living as a normie…completely unaware of the danger right in front of them. It’s scary to imagine.”
“What if you get tired of sorcery?” He asked.
“Humans will always get tired of routine whether it’s working an office job or exorcizing curses. I mean, most sorcerers don’t put their lives on the line to save other people because they’re passionate about it. Most people do it for money, status or simply because they’re good at it. I know that there’s a lot of corruption in the Jujutsu world and I don’t consider myself a reformer or anything….but there must be a reason why I have the power that I do. A lot of sorcerers already have morally righteous goals but not me… I’ll discover it eventually. Why are you a sorcerer?”
“I appreciate your honesty, I can tell you thought alot about it.” He paused, “In simple terms, I want to unravel a curse.”
Y/n laughed, “Don’t put it in simple terms after I gave you a monologue. I didn’t ask you to be nice, I’m genuinely curious.”
Okkotsu explained everything to her from how he became cursed to how he became a sorcerer with the goal of unraveling the curse.
“I’m sorry for your loss, you both must have loved each other very much…” her face burned, “I attacked her during the event…I feel like a bitch.”
“I mean, Rika did wipe out your comrades almost immediately in the first event. Like you said earlier, it wasn’t anything personal.”
“You’re right,” Y/n said. If only her parents loved each other as much as those two did. “When I was first introduced to the Jujutsu world the snobby major clan kids would call me a ‘government baby’ so I beat them up alot.” Y/n smirked, “That’s how I became friends with Maki and Noritoshi. Although, I haven't talked to Maki as much since we started highschool. My point is, to tell her I hope she’s doing well.”
“Isn’t Kamo Noritoshi also a snobby heir?” he asked.
“Noritoshi is my boyfriend.” she laughed as Yuta became embarrassed, “Most of the kids from renowned sorcerer families are obnoxious but some are better when you get to know them.”
‘They’re on a first name basis and everything…’ Okkotsu nodded, “Sorry.”
Before they knew it, they both arrived in front of the train station, “It was nice meeting you Y/n, wanna exchange numbers?”
Y/n took her phone out of her pocket and unlocked it, handing it to Yuta.
“I look forward to seeing you again.” Y/n said, more earnest than intended when he handed back her phone.
‘I threaten to kill him and then befriend him….how am I gonna explain this to Noritoshi or anyone? I’m late to my own party because I had to take a walk with another boy? Oh god.’ she thought as she began to walk, ‘It’d be more incriminating to lie about it…oh god.’
—
When Y/n stepped foot into the Jujutsu High Dorms, she was smothered instantly.
“Y/n!” They all called out as they all ran towards her, except for Mai, Noritoshi and Kokichi.
“You did so well, I’m proud of my favorite underclassman!” Aoi Todo cried, “I apologize for assuming you’re boring because of your taste in men.”
“You guys are going to smother her, give Y/n some space.” Noritoshi said.
“Why are you so late?” Momo pouted, “We haven’t seen you in days and you basically tip-toed your way here.”
“Oh, I saw Okkotsu on my way here and decided to be nice so I don’t have a reputation for being a lunatic.” She admitted.
“You spent 30 minutes reconciling?” Mai hinted something suggestive.
“What? No, are you forgetting that I had to walk here?” Y/n was visibly offended.
“You’re almost an hour late,” Kasumi added.
“Y/n’s taste in men is getting more interesting,” Aoi laughed.
“It’s not like that!” Y/n unintentionally raised her voice, ‘I’m not like that…why would Mai even suggest that idea.’
“You all need to stop jumping to conclusions.” Noritoshi spoke up.
“You and Okkotsu are monsters,” Momo decided to change the topic.
“It was so strange seeing you struggle in a fight, I was worried!” Kasumi added.
“I never realized you could be so unhinged,” Kokichi commented.
“I knew you had it in you! I could never be friends with a boring person.” Aoi bragged.
“Oh really? A few months ago you called her a ‘boring girl with no passions’.” Mai called out his hypocrisy.
They all continued to bicker over the events while Noritoshi remained silent for the most part—-he scarcely made eye contact with Y/n. It was unnoticeable to everyone but her, it made her uneasy. She was too busy contemplating all the reasons he could be upset and how she could apologize to register to chaos happening in front of her.
Mai and Todo were recreating the fight.
“If you don’t take me seriously, I’ll kill you!” Mai impersonated.
“You don’t understand the true extent of my power…” Todo replied.
“That’s not what he said!” Kasumi interrupted.
“Guys stop being silly,” Y/n pleaded.
“Seriously,” Noritoshi spoke.
Everyone dispersed after a few hours, leaving Y/n and Noritoshi sitting next to each other with lots of tension.
“I was being selfish during the event and I made all your efforts go to waste, I apologize.” She intertwined their fingers, “Will you stop being so cold?”
“I’m not upset about your actions at the exchange event,” he said.
“Then…is this about Yuta?” Y/n noticed the way he tensed at the name, “You don’t seriously think I’m that easy.”
“Yuta Okkotsu wasn’t holding back his own power during the event, he was struggling to control it” Kamo continued, “He’s a stain on Jujutsu High’s legacy more than anything….but he intrigues you.”
“I don’t judge people based on orthodox jujutsu values, you know that. I respect Yuta as a sorcerer, that’s all” Y/n began to withdraw from him.
“So if you don’t mind, what could you have possibly been talking about for more than 30 minutes?”
“I apologized to him, talked about sorcery and then we exchanged numbers because he asked. I also told him that you’re my boyfriend because everything that happened was platonic.”
It was Noritoshi’s turn to feel guilty, “I’m sorry for doubting you, that was immature of me.”
Honestly, Y/n questioned her actions earlier too. She questioned the way her heart beat sped up when they spoke to each other and the way honest words easily fell from her lips rather than lies. She questioned the faint disappointment she experienced when hearing about Yuta’s love for Rika. Y/n was a liar and a deceiver, but she was not a cheater.
“No, I understand where you’re coming from,” Y/n leaned into Noritoshi’s touch, “I would be jealous too, if you spent time with another girl.”
He kissed her hand softly, “I shouldn’t waste the precious time we have together by arguing over hypotheticals.”
“Would it kill you to let me be mad at you for once?” Y/n smiled, “It’s hard having such a perfect boyfriend.”
Noritoshi’s hands wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer to him so their faces were inches apart. Y/n’s face burned as their breaths mingled. His hand cupped the side of her face gently as his eyes flickered down to her lips. He loved to take his time, to admire his gorgeous girlfriend before indulging in her. Y/n always found the anticipation more enjoyable than when their lips actually connected. Her boyfriend was by no means a bad kisser. She appreciated him, which is why she put in the effort to return his admiration. There was no reason for her not to return his feelings. Perhaps only certain people can feel a spark—people like Okkotsu Yuta.
—
Okkotsu couldn’t stop thinking about Y/n’s duality on his way back to Tokyo. The malicious girl who threatened to kill him and the seemingly sincere one. He wanted to continue being an object of her attention; whether it was criticism or praise but he knew it was unreasonable.
‘Besides, she has a boyfriend’ Yuta pushed the silly thoughts out of his mind for once and for all as he entered the Jujutsu High dorms in the late afternoon. The other first years sat at a table playing Uno and barely glanced in his direction.
“Oh, Yuta’s here.” Panda glanced up from his cards.
“Salmon,” Inumaki said.
“Hey loser,” Maki stated.
“You guys missed me a lot.” He said sarcastically as he sat in the empty chair at the table.
“Fish flakes.”
“It’s not like you went and intentionally risked your life or anything.” Maki placed down a plus 4.
Panda’s brows furrowed before he placed a plus 6 on top. Inumaki placed down another plus 4, bringing it right back to Maki who had no choice but to pick up 14 cards.
“How’s Y/n?” Maki asked.
“She’s doing well. She was really nice to me for someone who threatened my life a few days ago. We had a civil conversation before I left and she said she hopes you’re doing well.”
“Y/n is one of the creepy humans. She doesn’t have a passion for sorcery but does it anyway—Uno.” Panda placed down a green 3, “It’s not like she was born a normal human, so I guess I shouldn’t judge her.”
“Cod roe,” Inumaki placed down a green plus two,
Maki placed down 4 plus twos, “She’s bad at expressing her emotions and is a bit of a liar, but you’d know if she disliked you.”
Veins popped out of Panda's forehead as he picked up 10 cards. In the end, Inumaki won by placing down his last two cards at the same time.
“Does she have a boyfriend?” Yuta asked.
He heard a chuckle come from Inumaki.
“She’s been with Noritoshi for months, everyone knows that.” Panda laughed too, “It’s okay Yuta, heartbreak builds character for humans.”
“Even if she didn’t have a boyfriend, you’re not Y/n’s type.” Maki said bluntly.
“That wasn’t my motive-”
They teased him for the rest of the night.
—
“We already decided Y/n won’t be receiving any punishment” Gojo’s lips remained in a thin line, “What is left to talk about?”
“Our deal with the Fujino’s should be coming to a close soon,” one of the higher ups said.
“Starting January 2018, Y/n will be transferred to Tokyo Jujutsu High.” Yoshinobu said.
Gojo looked around the room with the usual smirk on his face, ‘What are you all planning to do this time…’
Gojo’s smile vanished as he exited the building. There was something they were keeping from Y/n. Something that if the higher-ups discovered, would lead to a secret execution of the Fujino’s immediately.
‘In a situation like that, Y/n would have to be my first priority.’ Gojo resolved, ‘She’s essential to reform Jujutsu Society and…she’s too young to be executed like that.’
“Aren’t you too young to be in your rebellious phase?” Gojo said.
“Aren’t you too old to be talking to random little girls on the street?” Y/n folded her arms.
Gojo continued to stand tall, but he was holding back tears beneath his blind fold, “Children are so harsh…”
“At Least take off your blindfold when you talk to me, creep.”
“If I do it will you stop calling me that? I have a reputation to uphold,” he tugged his blind fold down to his neck.
“I just want to confirm something…” she did a sassy hand motion for him to bend down.
Gojo’s brown furrowed as he complied, stooping down to be on her eye level , “Happy now?”
Her finger was suspended in the air, a little less than a centimeter away from his eyeball, “You’re the real deal.”
He laughed, “Gojo Satoru in the flesh. Are you a fan?”
“No, the opposite.” she pouted, “How can one person have so much power?”
He patted Y/n’s head, “awww, little Y/n’s jealous of me~”
“...if I take sorcery seriously, will I be untouchable too?” she asked.
“Hm, is something bothering you?” a small smile still graced his face.
“It’s just a constant life of bloodshed. Why would anybody willingly become a Jujutsu Sorcerer?”
“Well, that’s for you to figure out. What if I told you there was potential for you to be as strong as me?”
“I’d say you’re a liar.”
“True, I am the strongest and I always have been,” He stood up and held out his hand to Y/n.
She took it as they began to walk together, ‘He’s probably taking me back home…’
“I never thought too much about why I wanted to become a sorcerer, It’s just what I’m the best at. Every sorcerer has their own reasons, so you just have to find yours.”
“What if you die wishing you did something else?” she asked.
“...how old are you?” He jested.
“Ten.”
September 2017
It was late in the afternoon and Y/n had just finished practicing with Aoi Todo, a man with endless energy who insisted on pushing Y/n’s physical limits. Earlier this morning, principal Yoshinobu had informed her that she’d be transferred to Tokyo Jujutsu High in January. Y/n told her classmates about it nonchalantly, but was off-put by it.
“That’s so excessive…” Kasumi had frowned.
“I guess, but I’ll be fine no matter where I go” Y/n smirked, “Maybe I’ll learn something new there.”
The revelation answered just as many questions as it gave her. It explained why they had been giving her so many cakewalk missions recently—it had almost been insulting. It also explained why her parents had been so upset about the situation, but Y/n wasn’t a trouble maker. She followed all Jujutsu Regulations and this was her very first offense.
‘Why would Gakuganji have it out for me?’ Y/n was lost in thought as she stretched while Aoi ranted about idols, ‘What could anybody gain from me being in Tokyo? Why didn’t Gojo warn me about this? Is there something being hidden from me?’
“You stressed about your transfer?” Todo asked.
“What makes you think that?” Y/n switched legs.
“You’re one of those people who like to mislead others to stop yourself from being vulnerable. I don’t know what the higher-ups' intentions are with sending you to Tokyo. But as your big brother, I’m confident you’ll still kick ass there.”
Y/n gave a small smile, “Thanks Todo.”
There was no point in arguing the nickname, Aoi Todo had ridiculously unshakeable resolve.
The months went by very quickly. Y/n wasn’t allowed to go on missions during December “Due to the transfer process”. She spent time with her other classmates very often, and slowly distanced herself from Noritoshi. The way Y/n saw it, their relationship was a result of proximity. She was a talented sorcerer from a respected family, and he was the heir to one of the Major Clans—someone her parents wouldn’t despise. Figuring out the right way to breakup was more difficult than Y/n imagined, so she’d save it until last minute.
Whether she spent time with friends, or tiptoed around her boyfriend; nights were always the same. Every night she stared at her white room ceiling, in a silent, cold house with not a single thought passing her mind. As time passed, she felt uneasy. She could not remember the last time she went so long without fighting curses.
December was the most difficult time of year for Y/n. Her parents forbid her from spending holidays with other families, but they never came home for them, either. To compensate for this, her friends insisted on celebrating her birthday on December 24, 2017, a day where they were all free. Y/n remember the unease she felt as she got ready, she wore a white knitted sweater, brown pleated skirt, black stockings and black platform boots. She brushed it off as the same feeling she usually had, but when she stepped out of her house—every fiber of her being screamed that something was wrong. Her father stood outside, waiting for her.
“Happy birthday, Y/n.” He donned the usual neutral expression, and held his hands behind his back with elegance.
“Good evening, father.” She bowed, “If I knew you would come, I would have prepared something.”
“Don’t worry about that, I’m here on urgent matters.” He said nothing, and Y/n followed him silently inside their car.
“Where is Mother?” Y/n asked.
“There’s been a terrorist attack on Kyoto and Tokyo. She is busy.” His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, and Y/n’s blood ran cold when she saw. On his nail beds were bright crimson. That’s usual for a Jujutsu Sorcerer, but not for her father. Her father barely ever dirtied his hands when fighting a sorcerer, and he always washed them thoroughly after work. He was a germaphobe, and could only make a mistake like this if he was panicked, or under duress.
‘A terrorist attack? Shouldn’t we be out there, then?” Y/n knew better than to raise her tone at her father.
“We have more important matters to attend to.”
“Most important matters?” She couldn’t contain the rage, and suspicion that was beginning to consume her. She wanted her father to banish her skepticism, and give her an explanation for this strange behavior, “You’re separated from mother, and thousands of people are about to lose their lives. What could be more important than doing your job?”
He didn’t yell at her, or patronize her for asking questions.“Your mother made her decision, and so have I.” The car ride was silent as they drove to the outskirts of the city, and into the mountains. Y/n couldn’t win a fight against her father. Attempting an escape would only make matters worse for her.
They arrived at an abandoned temple with vines growing along the infrastructure. The aura there was quiet, and unsettling. This energy was the crux of the anxiety that plagued her these past few months. Emptiness. An alluring kind.
She felt as if she were half her age. She had the urge to grab her fathers sleeve, and beg him to not make her go in there. She lunged backwards, and materialized her dual blades.
Her father grinned, “If only you fought back sooner, my dear daughter.”
She reached for her cursed energy, but nothing came to her. In a flash, her father smashed his knee into her gut/ She coughed up blood, and collapsed onto the floor. She had never felt a hit that hard in her life.
Mr. Fujino placed a cloth over her nose, and Y/n couldn’t escape his death grip. This man is not my father, he can’t be.
Summary: 4 times Percy ditched Annabeth for missions and she didn't know why, and 1 time he didn't. Angst and fluff and a lot of percabeth. AU, where Percy is a special forces agent and Annabeth is a doctor. Rated T for mentions of death and mild swearing.
Author's Note: Credits go to @redlion8123 for letting me use their headcanon while writing this fic. The idea is theirs and I am so thankful to them for letting me use it. I let myself go wild with this one, and as this is my first 4+1 fic, I hope you all like it. :D As always, I will be immensely grateful for all those who take the time to read this. Reviews will be much appreciated, and I always welcome constructive criticism.
...
I
...
"He's coding," Annabeth stated plainly, her voice tight as years of training set into place, and she handed over her scalpel to the attending nurse, starting on chest compressions.
Thirty seconds in and she knew it was of no use.
"Charge to 150," she barked as the nurse brought over the defibrillator paddles. "Clear!"
She watched the monitor burst into activity and then die down again.
"Push one of epi!" she commanded. "Resume chest compressions."
Inside, a thin veil of panic was taking over her chest. This man couldn't die, she thought to herself. She'd known Henry for far too long, attended his wedding, been in the room when his daughter was born. She couldn't afford to lose him.
"Charge to 200," she said, peering intently at the chest monitor. A minute had already passed. With his condition, a minute was too long to last.
She waited with bated breath as the shock passed through his body, and then sighed in relief as she saw the heart monitor changing.
"ROSC," she stated, her heart hammering in her chest. "I'll finish off the surgery, and then we'll move him to ICU for further monitoring."
Voices around her agreed in unison as she was yet again handed her ten-blade and forceps, as yet again, her fingers descended into the chest of a decade old friend.
Annabeth really needed a break.
…
She sighed as she walked through the halls of the hospital and reached her office, collapsing immediately on her sofa. Annabeth ran her hands through her hair, which over the years, had lost its shine and was falling apart in her hands.
She really needed to stop taking on back to back 36 hour shifts.
Annabeth groaned as her neck snapped painfully as she turned to lay on her side, her eyes settling on the wall hanging that her boyfriend had given to her on their anniversary. At just the right angle, the sunlight hit the ornament in such a way that the wall above became a mural of waves crashing against each other. It was mesmerising to watch, and on hard days, it had become her solace.
"Hey!" Annabeth turned, as Piper walked in, the familiar scent of lavenders wafting into her office. Annabeth smiled in welcome, as Piper settled in on her sofa. The latter peered in concern as she took in the resigned figure of her counterpart.
"How many hours has it been since you properly slept?"
"A couple of days at most." Annabeth grunted as she struggled to find a proper place to rest her neck in.
"Mother of Zeus, you've got to stop doing that!" Piper exclaimed, her light brown hair glinting in the sunlight, and appearing a gorgeous amber. Piper was stunning, and Annabeth had once questioned whether surgery was really the line for her instead of more fashion oriented professions. But then, Piper had put her in her place, and once she did, that was all.
"I know," Annabeth muttered, her eyes once again floating towards the waves on her ceiling. They were now a bright sea-green, and Annabeth smiled as she was reminded of the eyes of her beloved.
"You heading home?" she asked Piper, who nodded in response.
"Jason wants me back for something."
"Jason always wants you back for something."
"Yeah, well." Piper smiled fondly and Annabeth chuckled as she saw a dreamy expression settling in on her friend' s face. A year into their relationship, but Annabeth had never seen that expression on Piper for anybody else.
"You have that date too, don't you?" she fired back, and Annabeth blushed, as she looked away in embarrassment.
Piper cackled in response.
Truth be told, it was the only thing Annabeth had been looking forward to for weeks to come. Her boyfriend was an international aid worker, meaning he was more often than not, travelling to various places for his job. This meant they couldn't meet up as often as Annabeth would have liked, but it made no difference. In her thirty four years of life, he was the first person with whom Annabeth could truly let go of herself, and her job and all the tribulations it brought.
Now, three weeks later, they would finally be meeting again, and after hours and hours of surgery and stress, not that those never overlapped, those few hours she'd spend with him would make up for it.
"Few hours doing what, exactly?" Annabeth smiled, as Percy's voice resonated through her head, his crooked smile making home in her mind.
She wouldn't admit to herself, but she was completely and irrevocably in love with him.
"What's it been, a few weeks?" Piper asked, after she'd finally calmed down and gathered herself.
"Hmm," Annabeth said, "Speaking of, I should really be going now. He'll be here any minute."
Piper smiled again, that same coy expression on her face, and Annabeth whacked her as she got up from the sofa. "You're not going to change?" she yelled, as Annabeth headed towards the door.
"I won't need to," she quipped as the door closed behind her.
Annabeth laughed softly as she heard the thud of a pillow against the door.
…
Where are you?
She typed, sighing as she felt a few drops of rain on her head.
Percy was never this late. And he'd never not replied to her texts before.
She heard the ring of her phone and her hands fumbled as her fingers swiped at the screen to accept the call.
"Percy?"
"Annabeth!" She jerked away as his voice boomed across the receiver. Annabeth glared at a passerby as she hurriedly walked over to a corner on the street, ignoring the now constant slew of rain over her.
"Percy?"
"Annabeth," his voice came through again, a note of urgency in it. "Annabeth, I'm so sorry I don't think I can make it. My flight's been redirected to Chicago, and I don't think I'll be on time for the date."
Annabeth felt her heart sinking, as she mustered up the voice to answer back. "You're already late!" she yelled back, and smiled sadly as she heard Percy laugh through the phone.
"I'll make it up to you!" he yelled. "I'm sorry, I have to go now!"
"It's okay!" she said, but the call had already ended. Annabeth looked at the phone screen, willing his name back. She couldn't help it, but she felt small pinpricks of tears at the back of her eyes.
She'd been looking forward to seeing him again.
"Annabeth!" she heard someone yell her name. Annabeth looked up to see Piper in a small Bentley, Jason by her side, both of them peering at her, through the rain, "What's wrong?"
"Percy couldn't make it." she replied, as she walked over to them. "Drop me home?"
"You never have to ask." Piper said gently, as Jason smiled warmly back at her, tipping his cap in greeting.
Annabeth smiled, her throat clogged, as she got into the back of his car.
Even the rain didn't seem to appease her today.
...
II
...
"So, its like a ball, but for doctors?" Percy quipped, one eyebrow raised, and Annabeth shoved him, laughing as he feigned injury.
"It's not a ball," she argued.
"And yet, you're still going?"
Annabeth chuckled incredulously, as the couple walked hand in hand across the streets of New York. Percy had picked her up to get doughnuts, and she'd gotten the plain glazed, while he'd settled for blueberry. Apparently, her choice was extremely basic, but Percy had sneaked in a few bites from her nonetheless.
"What do you mean?" she asked, her eyebrows furrowed together.
"You know that fairytale that little children like to hear before going to bed?"
Annabeth looked back blankly.
"There's a movie too."
"What-"
"The one where the girl goes to a ball and there's a prince-"
"Cinderella?" she offered and Percy snapped his fingers, elated.
"That's the one!" he exclaimed and Annabeth laughed.
"This is absolutely not a Cinderella story," she argued back, shaking her head in exasperation. Around them, people sped across trying to reach their destination in the shortest amount of time possible. It was like a race against time, but Annabeth had by now, accepted that they'd always be on the losing side.
"Of course it is! There's a ball, and there's a prince, that's me," Percy pointed to him in all seriousness. "There's you-"
"This is ridiculous. You're ridiculous." She shook her head again and Percy put his head back as he laughed, letting go of Annabeth's hand and putting it across her shoulders, pulling her closer to him.
"You know I'm right."
"Absolutely not."
He made a face, and Annabeth poked him on his side, while he squirmed away. The couple walked hand in hand and they slowed down as they neared Annabeth's apartment, a small cosy set-up in a three story brownstone.
"You're sure you're coming?" she asked worriedly, and Percy turned around, taking her face in his hands.
"There'll be no prince without his Cinderella now, would it?" he said in mock seriousness, and Annabeth chuckled, shoving him gently.
She stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his waist, while he reciprocated, enveloping her in his warmth. Annabeth closed her eyes, enjoying a moment away from the chaos of New York City.
"I'm just saying, you don't have to come."
"But I will," she heard Percy say and sighed in content. "I promise."
October had arrived and in consequence, the leaves had started falling. New York changed colour, Annabeth had observed, unlike San Francisco, which seemed never changing. No, in New York, there was always something to be seen, and felt.
Right now, it seemed orange.
"I have to go," she muttered.
"Don't."
Annabeth smiled, then raised her face to look into his eyes. Percy bent forward, kissing her softly.
"Six pm. Sharp." she said sternly as she stepped away from him, and towards the door.
"Yes ma'am."
…
Three hours later, Annabeth walked towards her mirror, checking her reflection in it for the umpteenth time.
She was wearing a light blue dress that hugged her waist and went flowing down to her ankles. Her hair had been let down for once, and her eyelashes had been curled and painted as per Piper's instructions.
She didn't look like herself.
Annabeth fussed over her earrings, smoothing her hair down, as she debated upon tying it up in a bun just for the sake of it.
Who'd care?
Percy would, she thought to herself, then realising he actually wouldn't. Annabeth smiled, as she thought about him, his ever-ready tongue that had got him into more trouble than he could account for, his eyes which seemed to understand everything and everyone in the world, and his heart, that had made room for her in the same way hers had done for him.
Sunlight flickered in through the window in her bedroom, as Annabeth paced to and fro, waiting for Percy's call.
She'd called him twice, and he'd disconnected every time, and Annabeth was slowly getting worried.
Her phone pinged, and she unlocked it, scanning through Percy's new message.
I'm sorry
'What?', she thought to herself, and called Percy again.
This time, he picked up.
"What the hell, Percy?" she barked into the phone, sensing Percy wincing on the other end.
"Someone I know got into an accident," he explained hurriedly, but Annabeth snapped.
"What in the world are you talking about? What accident?"
"Uhh.." Percy stammered, "car accident. It's bad, and I'm so sorry -"
"Cut it out, Seaweed Brain," Annabeth sighed. "Do I need to go to the hospital? How bad is it, do I-"
"No, no," Percy denied, and Annabeth frowned as static came through the other end. "You don't need to do that. You just go to the party. You don't need to come, it's fine. It's okay."
"Percy - "
"I'm so sorry, Annabeth. I know I promised."
Annabeth bit her lip, stopping it from trembling. She ran her hands through her hair, messing up her little hairdo, as she resigned herself to the bed.
"It's fine," she said, more to convince herself. "It's okay."
"I'll make it up to you."
Annabeth nodded, feeling like a jerk for feeling like this, as static came though the call, and it disconnected. She blinked away rapid tears, not wanting to ruin her makeup.
She hadn't wanted to go to this party alone, but she'd make do.
Annabeth sighed, letting her hands fall down to her sides, composing herself for the upcoming slew of discomfort.
Cinderella would have to go alone, she quipped to herself, smiling sadly.
...
III
...
They'd fallen into an easy schedule after that. On the days he'd be in New York City, he'd come to pick up Annabeth at the hospital at the end of her shifts. He'd become popular among the nurses, having won them over by his quick wit and charm. Around the hospital, he'd started being known as Doctor Chase's new guy, something that Annabeth had secretly liked.
However, an incessant suspicion had settled itself in her head that something was up with him. With his untimely disappearances and excuses that didn't line up with each other, Annabeth had that feeling in the back of her mind that something was wrong.
Piper and her had chalked it up to her paranoia.
Today had been one of her worser days. She had lost two of her patients in a span of three hours from each other, and each time she had had to listen to the daunting sound of the heart monitor flatlining.
Ten years as a cardiothoracic surgeon, and she could still never get herself accustomed to that sound.
All doctors unanimously agreed that the worst thing about losing a patient was telling their family. There was nothing worse than to see their expectant faces as they approached them, and then seeing the light leave their eyes. Annabeth had once been on the receiving end of it, and till date, she could never decide which evil was better.
Worst of all, their faces always seemed to stay with her.
"Miss Charlton's mother, please," she asked the receptionist, Margot, as she reached the waiting room.
Margot pointed to a seat at the extreme right corner at the back of the hall. Annabeth sucked in a big breath, steeling her nerves as she entered the room.
Her heart hammered painfully as she saw the woman get up and run to her expectantly.
"Ma'am," she began softly, but Annabeth could already see that the woman had understood.
"No-"
"Ma'am, the moment I opened up her heart-"
"My baby," the woman wailed, clutching at her heart, as she staggered towards the bench beside them.
Annabeth looked to the ground, her chest feeling tighter by the second. She didn't even think she knew the mother's name. Annabeth had always addressed her as Mrs. Charlton. Or Evelyn's mother.
Curse the Gods.
It was protocol that the doctor couldn't leave until they had informed the guardian about the happenings in the O.R.
After all, it was their ward the doctor had been operating on. It was their ward the doctor had killed. Annabeth had killed.
She sucked in a breath, blinking back tears as she approached Mrs. Charlton again. Annabeth had no right. No right to feel what she felt, when a mother in front of her had lost her baby.
Mrs Charlton howled in her grief.
"Ma'am," she said, and she stepped back as the woman turned on her, her eyes blazing, clouded with grief and anger, as she walked over to Annabeth and slapped her across the cheek.
Annabeth gasped, her hands flying towards her cheek, as she staggered away from the woman in front of her.
"You killed her," she snarled.
"I," Annabeth stammered. "I," she said, her voice breaking.
She tried to explain, but then turned and ran.
…
Outside, she took her phone out, ignoring the looks that she was receiving, as she dialled Percy's number, hoping to Zeus he'd pick up.
Still sobbing, she slipped into an empty on-call room, locking it shut as she sank to the floor, her legs trembling, the emotions of the day catching up to her.
As the call disconnected, she frantically dialled his number again.
"Hey, Annabeth," she heard his voice, and scrambled to put the receiver close to her ear. "I'm sorry, can I call you-"
"Percy," she sobbed, completely breaking apart, as she tried desperately to get herself under control. She'd killed that girl, and that was all she could think about.
"Annabeth?" Percy's voice turned frantic. "Annabeth? Are you okay? Are you hurt? Where are you?"
"No, no, no," she shook her head. "I'm fine, I'm fine," she blubbered. Somebody was yelling behind Percy, yelling at someone, at him? Annabeth heaved in a breath, as she fumbled to reduce the call volume.
"Hey, hey," Percy said. "What's wrong? Where are you?" His voice seemed urgent, and the person behind him was still yelling, making things inside her head seem even more deafening.
The voice in her head was mocking her for trying to find comfort in her boyfriend when she had just left a life destroyed, not a few metres away from her.
Annabeth stifled a sob, as she answered. "I'm at the hospital. I just…I just, had a bad day."
"Fuck, Annabeth," Percy said, her voice growing more frantic by the minute.
Annabeth jerked away from the phone as a weird static came up, followed by Percy yelling that he'd call later.
"No, wait," Annabeth cried, as the phone disconnected, "Wait!"
She screamed into her hand, pulling at her hair in frustration as she flung the phone away from her.
Tears leaked out, as the day's events flashed across her mind. The first patient, who'd been a John Doe, then Evelyn, Evelyn's mom, and now….and now Percy.
Annabeth heaved out a sob, as she finally rested her head against the door, her body slumping in defeat. She closed her eyes, and let herself be lost to the world.
Days later, Percy appeared at her door, enveloping her in his arms. With him, came an excuse and the sound of Annabeth's heart breaking.
...
IV
...
"Can I see the trauma entry records for last month?" Annabeth asked the nurse behind the counter. She had a slight idea her name was Olivia, but Annabeth had never met her before other than by word of mouth from the other nurses.
"May I know why, Doctor Chase?" the nurse(Olivia?) questioned, as she got up from her chair, rummaging under her desk for a second, before she got out a slim file, filled with patient records.
"I just," Annabeth hesitated, "I just want to check something."
Olivia nodded, handing her the file, and Annabeth flipped through it, looking for the records under July 15. A few broken bones, a heart attack, and yes, a car accident. For a second, Annabeth's hopes were lifted, a cruel irony, until she saw that the time of entry had been at 11 pm in the night.
She had called Percy in the evening.
Annabeth felt her heart sinking as she read through the contents of the patient record, eyes flickering back to the time of entry.
11:58 pm. Annabeth had talked to him that evening at 6:59. She knew because she had checked.
"Everything okay, Doctor Chase?" the nurse questioned, and Annabeth hurriedly blinked back tears as she closed the file, returning it back to her.
"Yeah," she managed to say, "everything's fine." She turned to go, before pausing and briefly turning back. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name - "
"Olivia. Olivia Hansley."
Annabeth smiled, nodding in thanks, then turned to go.
…
There had been no flight redirected to Chicago either. There hadn't been a flight in the first place.
Annabeth sat down heavily on her sofa, running her hands through her hair. He had bailed on her. Percy had bailed on her.
Already, a lump had set in on her throat, as she clenched and unclenched her fingers, trying to distract herself.
She had been cheated on once by her ex. Annabeth wouldn't be surprised if Percy had done that to her too.
She stifled a sob, raising her head as her eyes fell on the mural that he had given to her. Again, the waves seemed iridescent compared to her bland grey walls, but this time, unlike all the other times when it had managed to calm her, Annabeth felt enraged.
He had lied to her so many times. Disappointed her, left her waiting while he screwed some other girl.
But still, it was Percy.
And until a few hours ago, Annabeth had felt that she had known him. Known him just like he had known her. She had fallen in love with the boy with the green eyes and crooked smile. Who had shown up when she'd needed him Who'd brought her back from the broken shell of a person that she had once been.
He at least deserved a chance. And Annabeth hoped to all the gods of Olympus that she was wrong. For once.
She got up from her sofa, dialling the ever-familiar number on her phone. She heard it ring once….twice…..thrice, then heard Percy's voice on the other end.
"Hello?"
"I want to meet up," she declared, her voice assuming the one she adopted in the operating room, when she meant business and nothing else.
"Annabeth, what?" Percy's voice came through the other end, and again, she could hear the familiar sound of static, that she had gotten used to on calls with Percy.
"I want to meet up," she repeated.
"Annabeth, I don't think I'll be able to -"
"Why?" Annabeth demanded, anger coursing through her veins. "What could you have possibly going on today, on a Saturday, that you won't be able to meet me for a few hours?"
"Annabeth, I'm sorry - "
"I'm so sick of you apologising," she interrupted. "What, you have some flight that's been redirected to the Philippines now, or somebody's dying again? Is it some other girlfriend that I don't know-"
"Annabeth, just hear me out," Percy's voice reverberated through the speaker, but Annabeth could hurl her phone at the very mural he'd given her.
"What, Percy? What can you explain? Because I have waited for you for so many months, overlooked all of your excuses," her voice broke, but she went on, "hoping…praying that you weren't like all the other guys who had left me hanging."
"Annabeth-"
"But you ... .you have completely exhausted me," she finished, sinking down on the floor, back against the wall, a stray tear escaping down her cheek. She gulped, breathing in deeply through her nose, but the lump was still there, hurting her throat.
"Just give me a chance to explain," his voice came through the speaker, and Annabeth shut her eyes, willing the past few hours to just go away.
"Explain then. Right now. Explain to me why you've been lying to me for the past few months," she said into the phone, voice clogged with desperation.
"I…..I can't," his voice came through again, and Annabeth closed her eyes, finally letting her tears flow.
Percy went on. "Not right now. Just… just one day. Give me one day, and I'll tell you everything. Please."
The sun was setting as the last few rays came pouring into the room, lighting up a few select tiles on the floor. Annabeth stifled a cry, as she snapped back.
"Don't fucking call me again, Percy."
...
+1
...
I'll come. Jason will drop me.
Annabeth saw Piper's text, her fingers flying over the keypad.
Don't. I'm fine. I'll come over tomorrow.
Annabeth watched as the familiar three dots appeared on the screen, indicating she was typing again. Annabeth sighed, then typed back.
It's 3 am already. I just need some time alone.
The dots disappeared. Then a message popped up.
I'll be there first thing tomorrow.
Annabeth smiled sadly, then switched off the phone. Her phone screen flashed as the clock turned to three, and she sighed.
Outside, the night had taken on its darkest, the wind blowing against the window shutters, making the room inside deafening. The night felt like her, had become her, and Annabeth could barely do anything without being reminded of the hurt in her chest.
Try as she may, she couldn't shake it. Hadn't ever even met with this hurt before.
Annabeth had fucked up. After Luke, she had vowed to neve give her heart away to anybody ever again. But then Percy Jackson had appeared, and got under her skin. And try as she may, she hadn't been able to stop it.
Annabeth buried her head in her pillow, letting her tears soak into the linen.
Outside the storm raged on, unrelenting, unyielding.
How Dickensian indeed.
Then, the bell rang. Annabeth jerked up from the sofa, immediately reaching for her phone. Was it Piper? No, Piper had a key. She'd walk right in.
Annabeth crept closer to the door, her thumb just inches away from dialling 911. She'd seen reports of people being robbed at gunpoint by late night visitors. She'd even treated them in the ER.
The bell rang again, and Annabeth hyperventilated, furiously typing in the digits, hands trembling, when a voice came through.
"Annabeth, it's me!" the voice yelled through, and shestilled, her heart in her throat. "It's Percy, don't call the police!"
Annabeth frowned, phone away, as she slammed open the door, wincing at the onslaught of the wind against her face. She glared at Percy, who was heavily leaning on the wall beside her, hand on his side.
"What the hell are you doing here?" she demanded, eyes flashing, her back against the harsh drops of rain.
"Just hear me out, Annabeth, please," Percy begged, and for the first time in a few weeks, she looked into his eyes, really looked and saw, to her surprise the desperation in his face, an emotion that she had never before seen on him.
"Are you going to lie to me again?" she bit back, and Percy tilted his head, his eyes boring into hers.
"Just the truth," he replied. "Nothing else."
She glared at him, and then let the door open wide. Percy got up, shuffling forward, before his legs buckled. Annabeth rushed forward and caught him before his knees reached the ground.
"The fuck," she muttered. It was then, her eyes scanned over his body, noticing the gaping wound on his side. It was why he was leaning against her wall, and looking at it now, the blood had seeped into the wall as well. On top of that, he was soaking wet too.
"I'm fine," Percy muttered, looking at her expression, but Annabeth looped his hand around her neck, as she hauled him up. Percy grunted, but complied as they both shuffled into the house, Annabeth kicking the door shut in the process.
Once inside, she settled him on her sofa, before rushing into the kitchen, taking out the rubbing alcohol and the first aid kit. On second thought, she got up a few select pain meds as well, before sprinting back towards him.
"How the hell did this happen?" she demanded, as she cut open his shirt. Annabeth cursed internally, as she touched his cold skin, knowing it was because he had been in the rain for so long.
"I…" Percy hesitated.
Annabeth raised an eyebrow challengingly, as she examined the wound. In the light, she could see a few bruises forming on his face as well, and not for the first time, she wondered what he had been up to.
"Bullet graze," he muttered, and Annabeth smarted back.
"What?" she cried out. "What the fuck do you mean by a bullet graze?"
"I…"
"No, don't speak," she commanded. "Wait until I've patched you up."
Under the yellow light of her tungsten bulbs, Annabeth poured the rubbing alcohol on his wound, ignoring his wince, as she pulled out a cauterised needle and thread from the first aid box.
"I'm going to stitch you up, okay?" she said, gently swatching a generous amount of numbing cream on his wound.
Annabeth worked on the stitches, her fingers flying over the broken patch of skin in record-breaking speed, trained from years and years of practice and experience.
She noted briefly how he barely winced, and as she finished up, wrapping a roll of gauze around his abdomen, Annabeth noticed Percy's eyes on her, silent through the entire ordeal.
She handed him a towel instead and a pair of shorts that he had left in her house last time he had been there, which now that she thought about it, had been over six months ago.
The familiar burst of anger ignited in her veins again, as she turned away from him, giving him the space to change. She wrapped up the gauze and needle in a cellophane plastic, all the time being acutely aware of the deafening silence in the room. Annabeth disappeared into the kitchen, sucking in a few heaving breaths before going back into the room again.
Percy was now standing beside the sofa, waiting for her.
"Sit," she commanded, and Percy opened his mouth, as if to argue, but she wouldn't hear of it. "You'll rip the stitches."
He nodded, facing her as she leaned opposite to him, biding him to start.
"I lied." He said, hsi voice barely above a whisper, his voice hoarse as if he had been yelling for a long time.
Annabeth said nothing.
"I lied about my job. About what I do," he admitted. "I am not an international aid worker, or whatever the fuck I told you I was," he said, his eyes looking straight at hers.
"I work in the special forces," he ended, and Annabeth imperceptibly sucked in a breath. "I work for an organisation, named Olympus. They give me my missions, and I carry them out. They give me my orders, and I follow them."
Annabeth's eyes softened, and she dared to ask. "So, all the times you lied to me -"
"I was in Jakarta. Slovakia. Portugal. Venice," he finished. "While I'm working, I'm in multiple places at once. The only time I'm at one place is ... .is when I'm with you," Percy's voice broke, and he looked away.
Annabeth gulped, her mind running through all the scenarios where she'd sensed something wrong, where Percy had had to leave suddenly after some call in the middle of their date, the number of times he had not been able to meet her for something after being excited for the same for much longer than her. It was all falling in place for her.
"And," Annabeth paused. "And, what does this entail?"
Percy looked back at her. "I'm breaking enough protocols to tell you this anyway," he chuckled bitterly. "But, I….I have lied to you about everything I do. I have let you down, but," his voice broke, "I have never lied to you once about how I feel about you."
Annabeth felt a lump rising in her throat.
"When I met you," Percy said, his voice heavy, "you were this brilliant cardiothoracic surgeon I'd met in the ER, who'd looked at me once and deemed me too far gone for my own good. And I was. My life is full of people who I've killed in order to protect myself, who've died in my crossfire, and those who I've killed under orders."
Annabeth watched as a few tears streaked down his face, landing on his hands. She frowned, blinking back her own tears as they threatened to overcome her.
"I'm a murderer," he went on, and Annabeth winced. "I kill people for a living. But then you…you have shown me how different life could be from my own, and I've fallen in love with it. I've….I've fallen in love with you."
Percy looked up at her, and Annabeth gasped as their eyes met, both of them overcome with emotion. She had pushed this man to the edge, hoping he'd leave her, but he'd come back. He'd come back.
She stepped forward, hesitating, before Percy gently caught her hands, pulling her over his lap. Annabeth yelped, before rushing to get up. "Your wound -"
"I'll be fine," Percy interrupted, one hand slinging around her waist, holding her in place.
Annabeth let her hand rest on his cheek, wiping away the tear trails on his face, as she felt a light shudder pass through his body.
"I can't lose you," he whispered, letting a few of his tears escape again.
"You won't," Annabeth replied, letting her forehead rest on his. "I'm sorry I didn't give you a chance-"
"No," Percy shook his head. "You…you have done everything right. I…" he shut his eyes tightly., shaking his head again. "I quit."
"What?" Annabeth jerked back. "What do you mean?"
"I quit today after I got back from my mission. I've been wanting to for so many years now, and after last night, I….I just couldn't afford to lose you to do something that was about destroying everything around me and losing everything I'd ever loved. I can't. I can't keep doing this job, leading this life anymore."
"Percy," Annabeth whispered, her voice heavy with tears.
"Annabeth," he said back, cracking a smile.
"I love you," Annabeth settled on saying. She smiled, looking into the eyes of the man she loved. Yes, she could say that now. She loved him.
Percy's eyes shone with tears, as he raised his hand and cupped her cheek, raising himself just barely above the sofa to capture her lips in his. And unlike all the kisses they had shared before, this one was full of fervent passion, as the both of them clung to each other, sharing a mutual sense of need, brushing away tears and letting the midnight rain in.
"I love you," Percy whispered back.
Outside, the storm eased, as the rain found in itself the grace to die down into a drizzle. And as the soft pattering of the rain lulled into a wind that soothed away the lashes of the day. Annabeth drew back, eyes furrowed in question.
"So, your bullet graze is a -"
"Crossfire. Stray bullet," Percy accepted, wincing as he shuffled to get into a more comfortable position.
Annabeth nodded, before declaring. "I'm making an executive decision that you need to sleep."
Percy chuckled, complying as she helped him lie down on her sofa, getting up to go, before he pulled her back close to his chest, snuggling together, their warmth blending together to create one.
"I'm sorry I got blood on your coach," Percy muttered into Annabeth's hair, resting his head over hers.
"Make it up to me later," she smiled back.
"I'll do a lot more than that tomorrow," he replied, an evident smirk in his voice, and Annabeth laughed.
GenLoss crew as avatars! Biblically accurate formatting! Footnotes! Banter! Gore implied though auditory descriptions! Spiders! No content warnings! A 6k word count! Mall exploration!
THE SUMMARY? GLAD YOU ASKED:
[THE RECORDING APPEARS TO HAVE BEGUN MIDWAY THROUGH THE SENTENCE, SLIGHTLY MUFFLED]
GERARD
-u’re sure this is worth it?
GERTRUDE
Aldelard Dekker certainly seems to think so.
GERARD
[muttered] I think you’re finally losing the battle against old age.
GERTRUDE
You want to stop the birth of The Extinction as much as I do, Gerard, and the location seems rather promising.
or: Life changing fieldtrip with Gertrude Robinson, next stop, an abandoned mall.
