Okay so I know Julieta’s not having triplets in your ‘something unexpected’ fic. Buuuut! Just for funsies, what would’ve been the reaction if she was?
Like Bruno’s says “congrats Juli, they’re adorable”
There’s a pause and then suddenly the whole table shouts some variation of “they! As in more than one!!?
The chaos would be epic!
Actually, gonna be honest, the thought of her having triplets did cross my mind when I was writing that chapter, though mostly to just tease Julieta and make her frozen on the spot lmao, but let's do an alteration of that chapter!
vvvvvvvvvvvvvv
“I hear a new heartbeat,” Dolores muttered weakly.
And after no longer than a second, Pepa stood up so suddenly her chair fell to the floor. “You’re pregnant?!” she roared, glaring daggers at Mariano as if she was ready to kill him with a bolt of lightning that barely missed his chair.
Julieta only blinked. So Antonio would get a baby – who cared if it was a cousin or a nephew – sooner than she anticipated–
–but Dolores suddenly shook her head, gaping at her mother in shock. “I’m not?! We never–”
“Then who?” Alma demanded sharply, her gaze stopping at Isabela and Luisa who looked equally surprised by the revelation. “Girls?”
Luisa started coughing and Isabela just stared back at her, her eyes wide, her head shaking the tiniest bit.
“Mirabel…?” Alma started hesitantly.
Julieta felt her heart racing. Surely, it couldn't be her baby girl, right–
Mirabel choked on her sip of juice and Camilo patted her on her back so hard it sounded like all her organs did a flip inside. “What?!”
Alma wanted to repeat the question, it was clear, but at the same time Dolores slammed her both hands on the table, yelling “It’s tía!” and Bruno’s eyes went shining green at the same second.
Julieta was fairly certain her heart stopped. The wine glass dropped from Agustín’s hand and broke into three pieces on the table, spilling the remaining wine onto the surface.
But otherwise, there was silence.
The only sound anyone emitted was heavy breathing coming from Bruno as he grasped the edges of the table and leaned over it to blink quickly a few times just a few seconds later, getting rid of the shiny glimmer that had just lit up his eyes.
Then he looked around, a little confused, smacking himself on the head lightly, and a small smile appeared on his lips. “Congratulations Juli, they're adorable.”
Silence.
Camilo was the first to recover. “They? As in more than one?”
Bruno opened his mouth to answer but Dolores beat him to it. “There are three new heartbeats.”
Pepa thundered. “Three–”
“Triplets?!”
“Santa Maria–”
“Bruno, Brunito, hermanito, what did you see?!” Pepa asked loudly.
All people at the table looked at him. He chuckled nervously. “Ah-uh, three babies?”
“Three babies!”
“Well, no babies, more like toddlers but yeah–”
“Girls, boys?! Two and one, like us?!”
Bruno smiled, his eyes wide. “Three cute girls.”
“Three new sobrinas!”
“Three hermanitas...”
“Three nietas...”
“It looks like Julieta’s doing your part of the job, hermanito,” Pepa laughed out loud. “Three! Three girls! Three oopsie girls!”
“Mami, what’s going on?” Antonio asked after giving the table a wide, confused look.
Pepa turned to him and grabbed his chubby cheeks between her hands. “Your tía Julieta’s going to have three babies! You’ll have three little primas!”
“Three?! At the same time?!”
“Yes!”
“But I asked for one!” he exclaimed, looking in shock at Julieta. “Three?! You’re the best, tía Julieta!”
Julieta blinked and her gaze flickered to Antonio. “Mhm,” she mumbled and laughed suddenly. She covered her mouth with her hand and ignoring concerned glances sent her way, she reached for a glass of water. Her hand shook terribly and half of the liquid spilt on the table. “Dios mío...”
Agustín grabbed her other hand suddenly, his palm sweaty and his fingers trembling as he squeezed her left hand. She squeezed back, trying to root herself in place and took a sip of water.
The silence lasted for a five more seconds.
Then Isabela turned to them, both eyebrows raised. “That’s it? That’s your reaction to the whole situation?”
“Hey, they look shocked...”
“Shocked! They have children, they know how to make them, they shouldn’t be shocked!”
“Pa?” Luisa asked in a pitchy voice, her eye twitching. “You okay? You seem... Pale.”
“Mhm,” Agustín squeaked, his hand around Julieta’s toghtening even more, his other hand drumming on the table. “Absolutely. Perfectly okay. I’m fine.”
“Mira’s a more subtle liar,” Camilo shot them a pitiful look for what he was smacked on the back of the head by Mirabel. “Ouch! What was that for?!”
“For being stupid,” she hissed to him, before turning to look at her parents. “You’re awfully quiet mamá, are you feeling alright?”
Without any word, Julieta shook her head slowly.
“Your heartbeats are very, very quick,” Dolores piped in quietly. “Too quick, I’d say,” she added, looking between her aunt and uncle. “I think you should go and rest...”
“A wonderful idea,” Agustín shot out of his chair and the piece of furniture fell to the ground. Julieta didn’t ever flinch but let herself be pulled to her feet. “We need a moment,” he said and took her hand, both of them walking out of the kitchen on wobbly legs.
“I’d say no funny business but the damage is already done!” Isabela called after them.
There was silence. Then–
“Félix, help me prepare some drinks. Strong drinks,” Alma looked around the table and sighed, getting up. “We’ll make ones for Camilo and Mirabel too. We all need it–”
“Yes!” both mentioned cousins bumped their fists in triumph.
Antonio pouted. “Can I have a drink too?”
“No!” screamed everyone at the table.
Pepa patted his head. “You’ll let some orange juice. Your tía’s absolute favourite!”
Antonio beamed at them, exclaiming an excited “okay!”. Julieta made a good bribe material these days.
Alternate chapter 2 for You Look So Alive
words: 3,401 (yep, I never ended up using them. I’m the worst)
context: picks up right after Finn and Poe separated in chapter 1, Pe goes home with Bee-Bee
A/N: this is for @imtheoutgoingsidekick-baby, completely unedited, I didn’t even read through it again before posting so I’m sorry lmao please bear in mind that there’s a reason I abandoned this
“Pa, we’re back,” Poe called as he pulled off his shoes and put his keys in the little bowl like the responsible adult he almost was. He followed Bee to free her from the harness and lead and stashed them in their rightful place.
“I’m in the kitchen,” his dad called back, followed by the distinctive clatter of him obviously trying to sort through their mess of pans.
Poe looked at the clock above the door. It was only 5:17. Wasn’t it a bit early for dinner? He decided to go see what his dad was up to.
And really, there he was, several pots and pans on the stove, apparently trying to figure out what pan to use for whatever he had planned next.
“Hey,” he greeted. “Are we expecting guests?”
His dad nodded while stirring something that smelled like his dad’s famous chili, then moved to chop veggies before checking the oven. “Yeah, turns out we are. Leia and Han are coming over for dinner.” He sounded tense, even pissed, and Poe was massively confused. Leia, Han and his dad were like Snap, Jess and he. Best friends and always up to spending time together even though their schedules didn’t align as often as they’d like.
“Is that not a good thing,” asked Poe, frowning.
“Oh, it is. Let me just--“ he stirred the pot some more before grabbing a fresh spoon and checking if he was satisfied with the taste. Then he took another spoon and put it in the pot right next to it and offered it to Poe. “Try this, this is the one for you and whoever else is veggie or vegan.”
Poe did. It was delicious. As always when Kes Dameron cooked, which was almost every day under Poe’s watchful eyes so he could learn some tricks. “Mmmh,” he nodded. “Very good. And it’s vegan, yeah?” Poe was a bit confused there, he wasn’t vegan and neither were Han or Leia.
“Yeah, don’t know everyone’s dietary preferences, so I though better safe than sorry.”
“Everyones? Paps, what’s going on? Who’s coming for dinner?”
Kes looked at the clock, turned down the heat on the two pots and oven to pull out a bunch of self-made tortillas. They always put them in the oven twice but not too long or they’s get too dry. Really, his dad cooking was more of a science than anything else and Poe usually liked to watch him be very concentrated. Now, though, he wanted answers.
Kes closed the oven and finally turned to look at his son, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. He looked Poe up and down and frowned slightly. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” Poe dismissed. “So, what’s happening? What was it with the phone call earlier? Why are you preparing dinner for, like, ten people?”
“Leia called me earlier,” his dad began to explain, turning back around to check if everything was okay, if the heat was off and if it was safe to leave the kitchen. Then he gestured for Poe to follow him into the living room where Bee-Bee was excited to see them but didn’t move from her place on the couch, pretty sure that Poe would come to her. And he did. He was easy like that.
“So, Leia called,” Poe reminded his dad, hoping he would keep going.
He nodded. “She told me Luke was back.”
“Luke?” Poe frowned. “Wait, you mean… uncle Luke? Leia’s brother? He’s still alive?” He felt incredibly stupid to be asking that, because obviously he was still alive, man. It’s just that for years nobody had seen him or heard of him. “It must be, like, what? Ten years?”
“Eleven,” his dad sighed and ran a hand down his face. “He didn’t call, didn’t leave a text or a note. Just disappeared on us and comes back eleven years later, apparently with the brightest smile on his face and two kids in tow.”
“Excuse me?” Surely, that was a joke.
“Yeah. Apparently, he decided to adopt. Because apparently, he can do that now.”
Poe didn’t know what to say but also didn’t feel the right to judge Luke. He had last seen him when he was seven, right after… well. Right after his mother died. He took a deep breath and really, really didn’t want to judge Luke.
“So he has two little kids now, lives here again, and they’re all gonna come here for dinner to have an awkward and possibly bitter family reunion?” he clarified.
“Yup, seems like it. Leia wanted neutral ground. She doesn’t know me if she thinks I’m neutral ground for Luke fucking Skywalker.” The bitterness in his voice, the barely suppressed anger kind of broke Poe’s heart a bit because he knew where it was coming from.
“Paps, hey. Maybe he can explain.” Poe moved to sit beside his old man, rubbing a hand up and down his back. “Let’s just see what happens, okay? Maybe it won’t be too bad. And if it does get bad, this is your house, feel free to kick him out whenever you want to.”
At that, his dad grinned. “You’re right, I’ll just be a real Dameron and kick his ass if I smell funny business.”
“That’s the spirit,” Poe laughed.
After a while, his dad added, “They’re not little kids, though.”
“They’re not?”
Kes shook his head. “From what Leia told me, they’re your age.” He shrugged. “But I guess we’ll see anyway, he’s bringing them along.”
Yeah, that made sense… Poe didn’t really know how to feel about everything he’d just learned. But he tried to be open to anything, maybe Luke was this really cool and outgoing and charming guy and the adults would forget all about being mad at him. And maybe his kids were cool, too, and they’d all be having a good time.
Speaking of a good time! “Hey, is it still cool if Jess and Snap are coming?”
Kes grinned and got up. “Sure, I’ll make some more churros then.”
Poe laughed and stood as well, stretching his back with a groan. He found his dad looking at him, his head tilted, squinting a little.
“Poe. You sure you’re okay? You look beat.” Hah. The irony.
“I’m fine, paps, really. Just tired. And I really wanna go out and cuddle with Bee in the garden for a while. Call me when you need help in the kitchen or wherever?”
“Will do. Call me when you wanna talk about it?”
Poe huffed a laugh but nodded. “Will do. Thanks, paps.”
And as much as he wanted to go lie in the grass with his dog and not be a person for a few minutes, what he needed right now was a hug. So he went in for one, wrapped his arms lightly around his old man and felt him hug back tightly, making Poe tighten his arms, too. Dameron men were always down for hugs and Poe loved it, especially now. His dad was just a few inches taller than him but it always made him feel like he was just a little boy being held safely in his dad’s arms. Nothing could get to him here, nothing could hurt him here, not even Ben Solo. It was weird, it was probably stupid to be feeling that way about his father’s hugs at 18, but he didn’t particularly care about that. Society telling him it was stupid would probably only be one more reason for him to hug his dad, so there was that.
After a while, they let go of each other and Kes gave him a sort of bittersweet “I am your father and I love you but I am worried about you, son”-smile before returning to the kitchen.
“C’mon, Bee, let’s go outside and lie in the sun for a while,” Poe said to his already very excited dog. She yapped and seemed very happy at the prospect of just lying in the sun and getting all the scratches and belly rubs from Poe.
And so they lay there in the warm, soft grass. Poe on his back with his eyes closed, Bee-Bee next to him, her head on his chest, enjoying his gentle strokes and scratches. Lots of people didn’t think dogs could purr but Bee-Bee was ready to prove them wrong as she was practically vibrating, and Poe just loved her a lot, okay.
He was feeling calmer by the minute, breathing slowly and evenly, his eyes closed against the world and feeling safe again. Sometimes he was pretty sure his dad was watching them through the glass door leading to the garden but he was too comfortable to move and see if the was right, trusting his dad would call for him if he needed help.
After a while – it could have been an hour or five minutes, Poe didn’t know and he was pretty sure he nodded off once or twice – he did call, asking if he could prepare the table outside because there was more room in their garden than anywhere else in the house. A delicious smell tickled his nose which definitely made getting up easier. As he stood, so did his loyal, wonderful dog, looking up expectantly, and he smiled.
“Stay, Bee, I’m gonna be right back.” Before he went inside, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her head and scratched behind her ear again. “Good girl,” he cooed when she returned to lying in the grass, her watchful eyes never leaving him.
Poe went to wipe down the table and chairs before getting the cushions to make them more comfortable for their guests. “Paps, how many people are we gonna be?”
“When are Jess and Temmin coming again?”
“Not until after dinner, you know them,” he called back from where he was fastening the cushions.
“Then it’s Leia, Han, Luke and his kids, you and me. That makes seven.”
“So Ben is not coming?” Poe asked just to be sure.
“Is he ever?” his dad grumbled, and Poe could not answer from the sheer relief he felt. Ben was not coming. He was probably out bullying another kid who wasn’t white, rich and hetero. Idiot Nazi piece of shit.
“Poe?” his dad called again.
“Huh?”
“I asked if you could help me set the table, the plates are already on the counter.”
“Yeah, sorry, that one chair gave me trouble,” he tried to deflect from his actual thoughts.
Thankfully his dad did not press and either chose to ignore him or really had more pressing matters to attend to in the kitchen.
Before long, Poe had set the table, prepared the other chairs so they would be clean, warm and comfortable, and helped his dad chop the rest of the vegetables into small bits for the burritos they were going to have for dinner.
6:30 came sooner than either of them had expected and just as the clock went from 29 to 30 the doorbell rang. Wow, someone sure loved being exactly on time.
“I’ll get it, can you put the tortillas in the oven again, por favor?” Kes said, wiping his hands on a towel and greeting their guests. Poe hoped his dad opening the door and dealing with the first inevitable awkwardness would lighten up the whole situation a little. So stayed back happily, preparing the tortillas and checking if the salsa and kidney-bean mix in the pots was warm enough, careful not to let it get too hot.
He could hear his dad and their guests, obviously, their house was not exactly spacious. Leia and Han were there and had apparently brought a bottle of wine that was way too expensive, so his dad made a fuss that Leia chose to ignore. And then there were other voices, strange voices that struck him as familiar in a very weird way. Must be Luke then. It made sense for his voice to be strange yet familiar, it had been eleven years after all.
They hadn’t really moved into the house yet but stayed in the hallway, probably still by the door, and Poe if Poe weren’t surrounded by delicious food, he’d think he could smell the awkwardness in the air. It was very unlike Kes Dameron to let any kind of awkwardness last more than two seconds, and this situation was a testament to how much Like Skywalker seemed to unnerve him. And Han and Leia, too, since nobody spoke for a while.
Well, couldn’t have that! “Dinner’s almost ready! Paps, get our guests something to drink and go outside, I’ve got this!”
That seemed to do the trick. There was a bustle as Kes led everyone outside and asked for their drink orders. After all, he took a Dameron Dinner very seriously, even though it was a very common occurrence. His dad was a picture-perfect people person. And Poe apparently into alliterations. Huh.
Poe took the tortillas out of the oven and covered the plate so they would stay warm, and filled the contents from the pots into bowls. He balanced the two plates of tortillas on one arm and grabbed one bowl of salsa-mix to bring them outside while his dad carried a tray with drinks after him.
He greeted their guests with a charming smile but concentrated on not being an idiot and dropping anything. “Good evening, everyone. I’m Poe, I’m your server tonight,” he joked as he set down the dishes. “Let me just get the rest and I’ll be all yours,” he added before he disappeared again.
He grabbed the last bowls and something to drink for himself before heading out again to properly greet everyone.
This time, he nearly did drop something. Because there, sitting next to who must have been Luke his daughter – a very beautiful girl – sat the boy. His boy. The boy who saved him!
“Poe?” his dad asked, a concerned frown on his face and Poe realised he had stopped in his tracks. In the door. And he was staring. At the boy. The beautiful boy who was looking at his plate and didn’t look like he wanted to be around a bunch of strangers in a stranger’s house.
“Yeah, sorry, hi everyone!” he grinned and set down the last bowl. Then he moved to Leia, greeting her first with a quick hug that could have been awkward for anyone who was not Poe Dameron, Master Of Hugs.
“Hello, Poe, so nice to see you again,” she smiled up at him from where she was sitting in her chair.
“You say that now,” he winked. “Just wait until tomorrow, you’ll wish you wouldn’t be seeing me all that often, General.”
She swatted at him and rolled her eyes. “Just keep out of my office a little more than last year, Dameron, I swear to God!”
Poe laughed. “No promises, ma’am.” Then he moved on to Han who gave him an eyeroll and a handshake, which was their usual greeting. Sometimes Poe thought Han didn’t really like him, but they had their moments. He’d figured a while ago that Han was just a grumpy and cynical person in general.
Then he reached Luke who actually got up again to greet him. Or he thought he did. But Luke was just staring at him. “You’ve really grown up, hm?” was all he said, awe in his eyes, realisation, and maybe something a little sadder.
Before Poe could say something, he heard his dad clear his throat and mutter something but he didn’t quite catch it. He ignored him and smiled at Luke, willing to give the man a chance.
“Well, you’d think that, but in here,” he tapped his temple, “I’m still that little boy that gets himself in trouble. So if I were you, I wouldn’t get my hopes up.”
Luke grinned, then laughed which sounded a lot like relief and pulled Poe into a hug that he reciprocated gladly. He didn’t seem so bad – he laughed at Poe’s jokes after all.
“I’m Rey,” the girl sitting beside Luke said and raised her hand, clearly expecting him to shake it. So he did.
“Poe. Nice to meet you, Rey. I love your hair,” he remarked and while he usually tried to make strangers more comfortable by complimenting them, he really absolutely did love her hair. Three buns of exactly the same size, it seemed.
She grinned and blushed a little, taking her hand back more slowly than she had reached out. “Thank you, Poe,” she said and she really sounded flattered and happier, less tense than just a second before.
And then he moved on. To the boy who was not just in Poe’s garden right after meeting him in a less than flattering situation! Nope, Poe must be dreaming or something. He fell asleep earlier and this was a dream, because the boy was now looking up at him, an eyebrow raised, and a little smile on his face.
“And you are?” Poe asked with an air of what he hoped was nonchalance, smiling politely at the beautiful boy and his big dark eyes.
“Finn,” he answered, very amused or intrigued or shocked or maybe all of the above.
“Poe, hi.”
“Hi, Poe. Nice to meet you,” he grinned and Poe actually felt heat rise in his cheeks. This was not happening! He couldn’t decide if he wanted to be happy or embarrassed or curious or all of the above. And he was staring at the boy, a grin plastered on his face, and Finn was staring at him, too, a very similar grin dancing on his lips. And this was not happening!
“Well,” his dad cleared his throat again and Poe realised everyone was staring at them, curious looks of confusion and even amusement on their faces – or in Leia’s case, a smug smile Poe couldn’t get behind. “Let’s get some food, shall we?”
And so the Dameron Dinner in capital letters, because everything was home-made and his dad a magician in the kitchen, began. “This looks very delicious, Kes,” Leia praised as she grabbed a tortilla and helped herself. There were nods of agreement from all around the table.
“Thank you for this, Mr Dameron,” Finn said and Poe’s heart raced because his voice was so smooth and the smile he gave his dad was so genuine and sweet.
“Stop it with the formalities, I’m Kes to you! And no problem, kid, I hope you’ll like what Poe and I made.”
“Oh, you helped?” Finn asked, curious. And Poe knew exactly where he was coming from. When did you manage to help with that between getting the shit scared out of you and getting punched in the gut. Twice.
“Nah,” Poe shook his head as he swallowed a bite of his burrito. “He just likes to share the praise. I literally just set the table, al the magic happening here is his fault.”
“You did help, though,” his dad insisted and Poe rolled his eyes but smiled. And Finn smiled, too, carefully taking a bite of his burrito and managing to keep the thing from falling apart.
Luke and Rey looked a bit overwhelmed and unsure of their technique, so Poe felt obligated to show them how to eat a burrito and not make a mess of themselves. He was met with grateful smiles and just so nobody would feel too bad, he loosened his grip a little, causing a bit of salad and cheese and salsa to fall on his plate. One of the two only plates who had until then been very clean.
Naturally, his eyes moved to Finn. Not because he was, like, drawn to him or something, nope. Only because they were sitting opposite each other and really had no choice but to meet each other’s eyes again and again. Because Finn was looking at him, too. And he was smiling a soft smile like he knew exactly what Poe had done just now. That soft smile of his, it was making Poe feel bold above all else. Still meeting Finn’s eyes, he winked at the boy, who looked away immediately, trying to suppress that sweet smile of his from happening, and Poe was sure he saw a flush a little. Although he could not be entirely sure with that wonderful dark skin of his. Anyway, a boy could dream.
Now that I've posted Jack's version, I can post the alternate version. If you're a long time follower of "Dance to the Tune He Plays", please read Jack's version first. Otherwise, enjoy!
Tet's Point of View:
There was a knock on the door and shouting. Sally quickly turned to me from where she’d been sitting on a chest of drawers. “Jack,” she whispered. “Oh, what in the name of Mayhem could he be doing here?”
I began to tremble. Maybe he’d found out I was here and wanted to yell at me some more. I was failure enough without bringing up Dante. And, now that I had, he was probably furious with me.
Sally must have noted my terror because she quickly pulled out the chest of drawers. “Get back here,” she said. “Hurry!”
I quickly did as I was told and got behind the drawers. Sally slid the furniture roughly back into place, giving me just enough room to breathe. She then slammed the wooden spoon she’d been using to make soup against her cauldron and walked over to the door. “Jack!” she exclaimed as if surprised. “What are you doing here? If the Doctor…!” But Sally didn’t have time to complete her sentence before he had brushed past her into the room. I curled up even more tightly behind the chest of drawers as he looked around him, blinking the light out of his sockets. He was surely looking for me. Why else would he just have barged in? I closed my eye and tried to count backwards like Sally had taught me to when I’d first been going through bandage changing. It had been hard to pay attention then, with my flesh being exposed, and it was hard now with Jack Skellington looking for me. I trembled slightly.
“Jack what’s going on?” Sally protested as she slammed the door shut behind him. “I barely see you for months and then you just barge in here like…!”
“There’s something wrong with my ribs,” he interrupted.
I opened my eye. So it wasn’t me. Skellington was... hurt? That didn’t make any sense. Jack Skellington never got hurt. He was renowned for never having gotten an injury during Halloween or reviews. I peered out from behind the furniture to see him looking about angrily. Well, I would’ve said he was angry, only he was trembling and the quirk of his sockets made him seem like he was in pain.
“Your… Your ribs?” Sally echoed, sounding just as surprised as I was. “What sort of problem?”
“They hurt,” he growled.
I rolled my eye from where I was secreted. Of course they hurt or he wouldn’t be here. It suddenly occurred to me that Skellington would have no idea how to deal with an injury since he’d never had one. I knew more about something than Jack Skellington. The thought was oddly pride-boosting.
“Jack, you’re going to have to be more specific,” Sally said, walking over to the set of drawers I was hiding behind. She nonchalantly took the notebook she kept case histories in, flipped to a blank page, and wrote his name at the top. Then, under that, she wrote “ribs”. She settled against the chest of drawers, squishing me even more. “Is it a dull or…?”
“Dull,” he replied tersely.
She wrote that down. “Is it continuous or only when you do certain…?”
“Continuous,” he interrupted.
Her foot tapped against the floor, the slow clacking sound reminding me of all the times she'd cross-examined me like this. Usually, my ailment was fairly straightforward: festering wounds. Sometimes, though, it was a more complex problem, and that's when Sally took to tapping her foot.
“Have you been in any sort of…”
“No! Sally, I haven’t been in any sort of accident!”
I frowned at him from behind the chest of drawers. He had no right to treat Sally that way, even if he was the most accomplished ghoul in all of Halloween Town! I started to move, only to have Sally squish me further against the wall.
“My ribs just… hurt!” he continued. “All the time. And I don’t know how to make it stop. It keeps binding my chest whenever I…”
“Whenever you what?” Sally said. I could hear her set down the pen.
There was a pause. Finally, Jack said, “Whenever I tutor or have my own lessons. Or anything, for that matter! They hurt all the time. Although…” There was another pause. “It got worse when I was with Tet.”
I felt her get up from the chest of drawers at the mention of my name. I panicked for a moment, thinking she was going to reveal where I was hiding. Then I reminded myself that this was Sally. She didn’t do that sort of thing. So instead, I focused on what he had to say about my lesson. Now that Sally had gotten up I could see Skellington more clearly. He looked upset.
“What happened with Tet?” she asked.
His whole frame drooped and he looked away from her. “I… I sort of yelled at him,” he said in a subdued voice. “And he said… He said I reminded him of Mr. Stoker.”
I could hear the clack of Sally’s heels as she crossed over to the stove and the slosh of her stirring the Worm's Wart soup. “Well, were you?” she said.
“What?” he asked, looking up at the ragdoll.
“Were you acting like Mr. Stoker?”
“No! Of course I… Why would I…?” he sputtered. “I hate Mr. Stoker!”
So he didn’t even realize what had happened. I shifted uncomfortably behind the chest of drawers. This wasn’t good. If Skellington didn’t know he was becoming more like Mr. Stoker, it would just be a matter of time before they were one and the same. I shuddered. Of the ghouls I feared more than Jack Skellington, Mr. Stoker was at the top of that list. He was cold, menacing, and didn't seem to care about anyone in Halloween Town other than himself. With perhaps the exception of his precious "group" of ghouls. They were the golden ones since they never got sacked and he nearly always chose from them the ghoul that was going to be primary scare. Jack Skellington was part of Stoker's group, which is part of what made me afraid of him. And confused as to why he'd hate Stoker. Surely, he'd love the ghoul who kept him from the Sack. Or did he think that was pure talent?
“Just because you hate someone doesn’t mean you don’t act like them sometimes,” Sally replied. I heard her heels against the stone floor again and then saw her stand in front of Skellington. “Your ribs are a little compressed,” she said. “But no more than they would be if you were nervous or upset.”
“Nervous!” he exclaimed. “I don’t get nervous!” There was a moment of silence and I could guess Sally was giving one of her admonishing looks. Among ghouls with any sort of ailment, she was practically famous for them. “Alright," I heard. "Maybe I do… But not often!”
“Jack, I’m fairly sure this has something to do with Tet,” she said. Her tone turned mischievous and her head turned towards me a little, “Call it a feeling I have, but I’m almost positive that what you’re experiencing has something to do with how you treated Tet.”
“How do you know how I treated Tet?” he argued. “For all you know, I could have been the perfect gentleman!”
“Would you be here if you had?” she countered. “Besides, you know me and the senses I get. And I sense that you’ve been a boorish numbskull.”
“Thanks a lot,” he replied sourly. “Now I know why I never come to you for injuries. You only make them… Ow! …Worse.”
“They are a bit tighter,” she said. “Oh, Jack, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make it hurt.”
“Yes, you did,” he said. “As revenge for barely talking to you for seven… I guess now it’s eight months.” He hissed in pain. “I’d be pretty mad at me too.”
Sally said something I couldn't hear then walked over to my chest of drawers again. She looked angry.
Meanwhile, Jack Skellington let out a little gasp of pain. “Sally!” he exclaimed as she walked over to her notebook again and began flipping through the pages. “I don’t want to leave. I’ve been busy! Stoker’s been working me night and day. Then, on top of that, I have other ghouls to tutor. I can barely keep my skull on straight!”
“Has it occurred to you that maybe I could help?” she snapped. I'd never heard her so angry before. “Honestly, you are such a…”
“Bonehead?” he suggested with a small smile.
“Well, you’ve always been a bonehead,” she teased, sounding less angry.
He grinned at her. “True enough.” He looked down at his chest. “That’s odd,” he murmured.
“What?”
“It doesn’t hurt as much… I mean… It still hurts just…”
“Less,” she supplied for him. I could hear the snap of her notebook closing. “Well, this only cements my theory that this has a lot to do with your emotions... Oh Jack! What in the name of Mayhem have you been doing?”
“I told you! Doing Stoker’s bidding day in and day out. I barely get the chance to sleep anymore. He’s been grinding me into the dust, Sally.” He began pacing the room, at times getting so close to Sally and I that I felt sure he'd discover me. But he seemed caught up in other things. “And I’m constantly worried about the ghouls I don’t have the chance to tutor and I’m always tired and I barely see you anymore and I just want to…” He trailed off, stopping his pacing. “I-I just want it all to stop,” he confessed. “The worry and the tiredness and the pain.” He touched his ribs. “Especially the pain. I thought they were going to crack, Sally. Or split right in half. And that you wouldn’t patch me up or ever want to see me again because I’d barely talked to you. So I’d just have to live with broken ribs. Forever.”
I closed my eye as Sally hugged him. Sally assured me that someday I'd understand why ghouls wanted to be around other ghouls and do things like hug or kiss, but right now it made my stomach turn. I only opened my eye again when I heard my name.
“Tet. Tet, you can come out. Jack’s not going to hurt you.”
I peeked out from behind the chest of drawers.
Skellington’s jaw went slack. “Y-you were there the whole time?” he asked as I wriggled out and pushed the furniture flush against the wall.
I nodded.
“He got here before you did, Jack,” Sally explained. “And then, when you started banging on the door, we both got frightened and I didn’t have time to get him out so…”
“You hid him behind the furniture,” Skellington supplied for her. He turned his gaze back to me. “Well, I guess you know the whole story then,” he said. “My ribs, Sally... Mr. Stoker…”
I nodded again, too afraid to speak.
“Should I leave you two alone…?” Sally began. I turned to her and began frantically shaking my head. If Sally left, it would just be Jack Skellington and me. I trembled as I thought of his black sockets staring at me, devoid of any light.
“Still scared of me, huh?”
I turned back to him and tried to think of the right thing to say. Finally, I ended up just nodding again.
He looked down at the floor. “I guess I don’t blame you,” he said, crouching down so that he was at eye level with me. “I’ve been a bit of a…” He looked up at Sally. “What was that you said, Sally?”
She blushed. “A boorish numbskull,” she murmured, turning her head away.
I smiled beneath my bandages.
He nodded. “I’ve been one of those,” he continued. “And I wasn’t very nice. At all. And I apologize for that. I hope we can still work together to get you ready for Halloween. …If you feel you can trust me, that is.”
There was a pause as I thought about this. I still didn't trust Jack Skellington completely and I wasn't sure if he'd be able to keep me from getting sacked. I didn't want to spend my last few months in Halloween Town going through rigorous exercises in vain. Besides, there were his eyes. I could read just about everyone in Town based off their eyes: how they were feeling, what they were thinking, sometimes even what they didn't know themselves. I couldn't read him like that. He was a terrible silence in an otherwise noisy world of flickers and looks. Something about that scared me more than stew. I could barely move when he was looking at me.
I looked up into those voids in his skull and decided to try something.
“Could you… close your eyes?” I murmured.
He obediently closed them. Instantly, I felt some of the tension I felt leave. For once, I noticed that his mouth was set in an almost permanent grin and that he didn't have much of a nose either--just two small holes in his skull. Somehow seeing that made him less scary.
“Sorry,” I said more loudly. “I just… They scare me.”
“My sockets?” he asked. He grinned nervously. “Why? There’s nothing there.”
“Exactly.”
He peeked at me from behind half-closed sockets. Since they weren't as frightening as just the empty holes in his skull, I continued, “What I mean is… I’m usually able to tell what a ghoul is thinking by looking at their eyes. But with you…”
“I don’t have any,” He finished for me. He closed his eyes again. “Just sockets.”
“Exactly.”
“Well, I’m going to have to look at you at some point.”
“I know," I assured him. "And I know we don’t have much time left. I’ll try to get over it, but if you could possibly… When you can…”
“Of course,” he replied, a sad smile playing across his skull. He held out a bony hand towards me. “As long as you promise to try your best not to get sacked. Deal?”
While going through my Wip folder (and realising that I have two?!!) I found an alternate chapter 11 I totally forgot that I even ever wrote it?!!
In this one Clint got captured by tony not Nat, and Jarvis isn't much of a voice of reason. Bu tI like it, somehow, o I thought I could post it here??
Again, this is an abandoned WIP, no spilers, no continuation of that line, no stuff. Just Clint being and oddball and mad!tony.
"LOKI !!!"
With his own voice still ringing in his ears Tony could barely hear the Mark 42 assembling around him, or Jarvis notifying him that The Membrane had been activated for the Tower. An incredibly powerful energy shield, that did require the secondary Arc Reactor to be hooked up on, but what needs must.
Tony instead already shot through the hole in the window, unaffected by the energy shield, and was just in time to see Loki getting pulled into a quinjet.
He wanted to shoot it down.
No.
He wanted to tear it apart bolt for bolt and-
"Sir!" Jarvis' voice called him back from his mental spiral of rage, "The Helicarrier is directly over us, we cannot blindly attack and expect to be victorious! If either of us get's compromised the probability of our all freedom and health will be greatly decreased! I recommend to instead to capture Hawkeye as leverage, he's on a roof behind you, about to escape."
"You fucking Voice of Reason!" Tony hissed inside the helmet but quickly turned around and literally snatched Barton mid-jump from a roof.
"Someone has to be, Sir."
Stunning Barton the moment he could, had definitely been one of Tony's better ideas, looking at the quite impressive arsenal the Archer had carried with him.
The most worrying of it all were Barton's (seemingly) new and improved explosive arrows that had made it possible to break the highly resistant, DUM-E-proof glass in the first place.
Now though the agent was lying, with a water bottle but stripped of anything that was a weapon, or could be used as one and still blacked out, in one of the two experimental 'god-mode' rooms Tony had.
Entirely empty and silent, highly resistible, white cubes (what was also their name, Cube) without visible doors, windows or even light sources that allowed flawless readings on whatever he needed in whatever environmental situation necessary. Usually machines, but today it would make quite an admirable cell.
Entirely to Clint's advantage Tony sometimes locked himself into them when his mind got too cramped and cluttered, needing a literally white slate where he could scribble the walls full until everything made sense again.
Aside from excellent inventions it also resulted in easy access to a toilet and sink, what of course wouldn't be immediately visible.
But no matter how furious Tony was with SHIELD, he would not deny Clint a piss or water.
He didn't hate the guy, quite the opposite actually, they had gotten along like a house on fire during the time they had worked together, it was just that he worked for the wrong people in Tony's book.
While they waited for their guest to wake up again Tony and Jarvis began their preparations to get Loki back, and therefore for a possible attack on the Helicarrier. Double-checking doors into the control systems for Jarvis, and deciding on a Suit for Tony (The Casanova, Stealth Artillery Level- RT Suit).
They weren't entirely sure how to get Loki out, but both of them steadfast refused to suggest modifying one of the suits to fit the god.
It showed too much trust, and both knew it.
But they did agree that they should play the 'By God-King assigned owner of Loki'-card for Fury. There was only so much that ass would go against.
Though before they could come to further conclusions, or make up their mind if Barton was important enough to Fury to maybe trade him for Loki, Jarvis announced that their guests heart rate had suddenly spiked, despite not moving at all.
Tony opened one of the camera (and microphone feeds) into it from where he sat. There was no need to go anywhere. It wasn't like the Cubes had something primitive as one way mirrors.
"No need to play possum, Barton." Tony said through Jarvis' speaker systems, "Your heart rate is too high for that."
"Hi Stark." Clint said while sitting up and looking around, rubbing his undoubtedly sore shoulder where Tony knew the repulsors had hit and stunned the man.
Once the Archers eyes had surveyed every (empty) inch of the cell, Tony could see the heart rate spike again on a feed next to the video where Barton's face visibly blanched.
Though Tony didn't hold it against him. If someone (besides himself) locked him in an entirely empty white room he'd have a bit of a freak-out too.
"Not that I couldn't find out myself, " Tony said, "but I could need some answers."
"Didn't think you were one for torture after your holidays in Afghanistan and all." Clint retorted while examining the water bottle, "but we also didn't take you for someone who has prison cells in the basement."
Oh that was how Clint wanted to play this? Well Tony wasn't in a mood to play, so fuck you Barton.
"Don't be cute. That's an environmental chamber. Had to put you somewhere, because no, I actually don't have cells in my basement. At least none of the cage-y sort. So, why the hell did Shield steal my property?"
Clint, who had deemed the water bottle safe and had just taken a sip literally spluttered.
"What the fuck, Stark. Property?"
Tony smirked behind the screen, "Answer my questions and I answer yours." he singsong, but seeing the archer contemplate the offer a bit too long he added "There's a bathroom and entertainment in for you till this shit is over and I can let you out."
That seemed to do the job as Clint looked surprised and said, "Sure, fine."
"Not so loyal after all, hm?"
"Well I'm not stupid enough to piss you off more than necessary. Besides, I'll probably need a leak soon."
Tony snorted at that, and at Jarvis carefully regulating the air temperature of Loki's cell, an 'improved' Hulk-cage, in the Helicarrier without anyone noticing. Though the feed's image (which J was hijacking from the security camera) of Loki, still unconscious but at least not bleeding anymore, sent the man's blood pressure back up in an instant.
"Ok Birdbrain, quiz time..."
Almost three hours since Loki's capture Tony had everything necessary ready and suited up, while Barton lounged on the floor of his cube, watching a movie.
Their talk had shed a little more light on Shield in general. He had all the files, that was obvious.
What wasn't in the files though was that the world counsel kept closer track on them.
They were also who had named Tony as a target, according to what Clint had 'accidentally' overheard climbing around in some air ducts.
It was almost a bit too easy to get Clint to talk, and the way he talked almost felt like reports.
Either it was planned to feed Tony that stuff, or Barton had a bit of a grudge on his employers and had only waited to get back at them.
Though having Jarvis double-check with the Shield database most of it got supported by files or reports.
Though right now Tony didn't <em>care</em> if it was some fed shit, if this was a trap for him, since right now he had let himself drop onto the Helicarrier landing platform.
Unaffected by the howling wind thanks to the armours weight he walked straight to the closest door, almost ripped it from it's hinges in his annoyance.
As expected there was no one waiting for him, the stealth suit having outmanoeuvred any type of surveillance. So Tony opened it just long enough to exit it, Jarvis deleting it's image from the cameras and the camouflage making it hard to pinpoint, and impossible to identify with the bare eye.
Straitening out a few creases on his suit Tony kept on walking further into 'the belly of the beast', his armour trailing him as Jarvis remote controlled it.
God damn it he was mad. So mad in fact that he could feel this distinct feeling of calmness wash over him and all his senses, making everything sharper and much clearer.
Entirely ignoring the Agents that were gaping (Newbies) or drawing guns on him (Regulars) or slowly stepping away from Tony, staring at what was behind him (Experts) he walked into the general direction of the main control centre.
Ok, not quite the 'general direction', more the shortest route possible without tearing down walls. He <em>did</em> design the thing.
A group of four Agents suddenly got the balls to actually step into his way, and he almost thought about having Jarvis swat them away for him when a woman bellowed some orders at them, making them slink away like little dogs with their tails between their legs.
