Grouchy as usual pre coffee, Mickey knelt by the door and felt at the ground. "Yeah, a lion," he murmured.
Ian's heart grew cold. "Impossible!"
👻
Summary: When Ian lands himself an internship with famous wildlife photographer Mickey Milkovich he can't believe his luck. Spending one month traveling through South Africa with his big hero is a dream come true. The two are off on a wild adventure but there's something mysterious about Mickey who seems to be holding more to his chest than just the tricks of the trade Ian had hoped to learn from him.
Click here to read chapter 08 or here to start from the beginning!
Falling for the Freak - Eddie Munson Fix-It Fic Chapter 08
I’m literally over the moon with how kind you all are with your responses to this. I’m so happy you are enjoying reading this as much as I am writing it. <3
CHAPTER SUMMARY: Some confessions are made...but will the big one be made? I don’t know, guess you’ll have to just read it to see!
WARNINGS: Sticking with the fluff for now. And the slow burn. I’m fan of a good slow burn. Also sorry if it’s kinda short! My week has been crazy so far and I hardly could find time to sit down and type this out. I hope you enjoy it!
Chapter 8
“Hey, can I tell you something?” Eddie asked quietly. I heard the blankets rustle on the floor as he rolled towards me.
I felt a pinch in my stomach. The air hitched in my lungs. “Yeah,” I breathed out, rolling onto my back. I stared at the ceiling as I waited for Eddie to continue speaking. The silence seemed to drag on for too long.
“I’m happy you came to Hawkins,” Eddie finally said. It came out in a rush. I opened my mouth to respond but he kept talking. “I’m happy that the stupid guitarist of that stupid band who was supposed to play at the festival with us broke his hand. I’m happy that your band was able to play it. I’m happy that you helped me carry the amp back to the van that night. I’m happy that Dustin bailed on us on Halloween. I’m happy that you came to see the band the other night.”
“Eddie-” I stuttered in the dark.
“I’m not finished,” he said, “I’m happy you brought me food tonight because of course you did. And I’m happy that it snowed and you have to stay here for the night.” He paused for a moment. “Basically, I’m just happy that we met. I’m happy to know you,”
There was a very heavy silence when he stopped talking. My heart was pounding so hard that I thought he most certainly could hear it. My mouth felt dry but the rest of my body was sweaty. I eventually rolled over so that I was almost at the edge of the bed. Eddie was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling. His hands were resting on his chest, his fingers laced together. I let my hand drop and I reached out for him. I wiggled my fingers until he turned to look at me and slipped his hand in mine.
“I’m happy we met too,” I said, giving his hand a squeeze. “I’m glad to know you. Like, really know you,”
Eddie nodded and brushed his thumb over my fingers. His skin was rough, but I liked the way it felt against mine. His eyes were glossy in the dim light. He was staring at our connected hands. Then his eyes flicked up and met mine. I felt my cheeks flush.
“Would you just get up here?” I asked. “I feel too guilty making you sleep on the floor,”
“It’s really not that big of a deal,” Eddie said, rubbing my fingers as he said it.
“You’re just saying that,” I said. “I’ve done enough floor camp outs to know you can never put down enough blankets to make the floor comfortable. Just get up here, there’s enough space,”
“You’re sure?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said, “it’s not like anything hinky is gonna happen, we’re friends,”
“Right,” Eddie sighed as he sat up.
I scooted over against the wall as Eddie pulled the sheets and blankets back. I felt so small as he crawled in next to me. He lay facing me and I couldn’t help but notice how much more of the bed he took up than I did.
“You’re so small,” Eddie chuckled, pushing his hair out of his face.
“Hey,” I teased, “that’s rude,”
“Like look at you though,” he laughed. “This is ridiculous,”
“You’re being rude,” I said.
“I’m stating the obvious,” Eddie said.
“Are we going to talk all night or are we actually going to sleep?” I asked.
“There’s other things people do during the night that isn’t either of those things,” Eddie muttered.
“Yeah other things that other people do,” I said. “You’ve come to the wrong bed if that’s what you’re looking for,”
“If my memory is serving me correctly, you’re the one invited me up here and it’s my bed anyway,”
“Shut up,” I said, elbowing him.
I rolled over away from him. He was still chuckling as he rolled onto his back.
“Goodnight, Y/N,” Eddie said.
“Goodnight, Eddie,” I said.
---
When I woke up the next morning, I was curled up against Eddie, with my head resting on his shoulder. Early morning sun was peaking through the slats in the shades, drawing lines over the room. Eddie was lying on his back, his hair sprawled around his head. It brushed against my nose. I sleepily swiped it again and my hand landed on Eddie’s chest. I was only half awake and didn’t realize where my hand was now resting. Still asleep, Eddie mumbled something and then his hand slipped up and met mine on his chest.
It was the sound of the front door of the trailer closing that made me fully wake up. I froze in place against Eddie’s body. His eyelids fluttered as he woke up. I felt his body tense and then he was sitting up. I decided it would be best to just act like I was still waking up and that I hadn’t been aware of the fact that I was cuddled up to him like a kitten.
Eddie nudged my shoulder gently with his hand. “Hey, Y/N. I think my uncle made it home. I’m going to go see how he’s doing,”
I sat up next to him and started to pull the blankets away from my legs. But then I realized that the shirt he had given me to sleep in had completely ridden up above my hips while I was sleeping.
“What’s wrong?” Eddie asked.
“I’ve had a wardrobe malfunction,” I said.
“I’m not even gonna ask,” Eddie smirked.
He stood up from the bed and stepped over the blankets he had left on the floor the previous night. I watched him from the bed until he stepped out of the room. I crawled out of bed and slipped my jeans on. I left Eddie’s shirt on - I wasn’t quite ready to give it up.
Once I had pants on, I stepped out of the room. Eddie sat at the kitchen table with his uncle. Wayne looked absolutely beat. They both were picking at the Thanksgiving leftovers I had brought the night before.
“Hi there, Miss Y/LN,” Wayne said.
“Hi Mr. Munson,” I said, quietly. “How are you?”
“I’m tired as hell,” he said, “but at least I’m home. Just telling Eddie that it finally stopped snowing at about two in the morning. Me and few guys decided to chance it. Still took an hour to get home,”
“Did the others stay at the plant over night?” I asked, taking a seat next to Eddie at the table.
“Yeah,” Wayne sighed. “They had longer drives though. There was no way in hell I was gonna stay at that plant all night. I already spend too much time there,”
“Glad you’re home safe,” Eddie said, tossing a piece of stuffing into his mouth.
“Me too,” Wayne said. “And I’m glad you kids are safe,”
“Thank you for letting me stay here,” I said.
“You’re more than welcome.” Wayne said. “Thank you for bringing us all this food. That was quite kind of you,”
“You’re welcome,” I said.
“Looks like we’re gonna need it,” Eddie said. “Those roads still won’t be cleared for a while. If it didn’t stop snowing until two, they won’t be cleared yet,” Eddie turned to me with a wicked grin on his face. “Looks like you’re stuck a little while longer,”
“Oh God,” I said, rolling my eyes. “You mean I have to keep putting up with you? I don’t know if I can take it, I may have to chance getting home,”
“I’m hurt,” Eddie said, placing a hand over his chest.
“Good,” I smirked.
---
I ended up staying at the Munson’s for most of the morning. Eddie and I were both of break from school because of the holiday and we were both were thankful for the respite. In our study sessions, I could tell he was trying desperately to graduate this year. It wasn’t that Eddie was dumb or stupid or any of the ridiculous excuses people made up for why he hadn’t gotten out of high school yet. It was because he was focused on everything outside of high school. He focused on the real things, like what he was passionate about and what he wanted to do with himself once he was independent. Sure, he struggled in school, but it wasn’t because he couldn’t understand the concepts taught in his classes. He just couldn’t focus long enough to listen to them. He had been working hard for the last few weeks though. I could see it in our time spent working together. Eddie had done the work and his grades were rising.
My own academic career was going more than fine. It wasn’t without hard work though. I had spent most of my free time for the last month working on homework and then prepping for midterms. My grades were good. I was happy with them. I was set to pass all of my classes. It certainly felt good to have a break though. Especially when that meant I could see Eddie.
“Teach me like, one new chord on the guitar, we’ve got the time,” I said.
“Um aren’t we on break?” Eddie asked. “You’re not tutoring me over this break, so no guitar lessons?”
“That’s not fair,” I whined from my place on the bed.
“How is it not fair?” Eddie asked. Even though he was protesting my suggestion, he still pulled his guitar down from its place of glory on the wall.
“Because guitar lessons are fun,” I said.
“For you maybe,” Eddie said. “Don’t you know how stressful it is to see you handle my baby?”
“Don’t you know how stressful it is for me to watch you solve a math problem?” I teased.
“Shush,” Eddie said, “Here,”
He handed me the guitar as he sat down with me. I held it in my lap, the weight of it pressing into my leg. He decided to teach me F major. Eddie pointed out which frets to put my fingers on. My hands were child sized and hardly fit on his guitar. He spent most of his time grumbling about this and suggesting I buy a smaller guitar.
“No, move this finger over,” Eddie said. “A bit further, now put the other one here,” he added as he picked my fingers up and moved them on the guitar neck. “Ugh, let me just show you,” he said.
I went to hand him the guitar, but he moved behind me and placed his hand over mine. I could feel his legs on either side of me and his chest pressed up against my back. If he couldn’t hear my heart beating he most definitely would feel it in this position. Eddie pushed my fingers around with his and then held them in place. He reached his other arm around me and then strummbed the guitar.
“See?” Eddie asked, peaking his head around my shoulder. I could feel his breath on my neck.
“Yeah,” I said, breathlessly.
“Now you try,” Eddie said. I clumsily strummed the strings as Eddie held my fingers in place on the neck. “There you go, now you can officially play F major. A few more chords and you’ll be able to play any song you want,”
Eddie moved so he was sitting beside me again. We began to review chords that he had taught me in our previous lessons but all I could think about was his body pressed up against mine.
Around noon, we saw a snow plow going through the trailer park. I called home to let Aunt Claudia know I was on my way. She was more upset that her Black Friday shopping plans had been canceled than she was about my sleeping over at a boy’s house.
The roads had definitely been worked on over the morning, but they still weren’t great. It took me at least twice as long to get home as it normally would. When I got home, I hugged Aunt Claudia in the kitchen and grabbed a plate of food she had made for me out of the microwave. I went to go find Dustin in his room.
“Hey, you’re alive!” he laughed from his place on his bed as I entered the room. He was still in his pajamas and reading an X-Men comic.
“Yeah,” I laughed. “It was a close call for a minute there,”
“It got crazy last night. I haven’t seen it snow this early for a while in Hawkins,”
“It better snow like this on Christmas,” I said. “They wrote that “White Christmas” song about me, ya know,”
I sat down on the bed with Dustin and he started excitedly telling me about his comic. About halfway through his explanation of Jean Grey’s transformation into the Phoenix, Dustin stopped talking.
“Hey,” he said suddenly, “that’s not you’re shirt, you didn’t have that on when you left,”
I looked down and realized I was still wearing Eddie’s clothes. I froze and tried ot think of something to say that didn’t make it sound like Eddie and I had hooked up.
“It’s Eddie’s,” I said. “He gave it to me to sleep in and I must’ve just forgotten to change out of it before I left,”
“What about your shirt from last night?” Dustin asked.
“Shit,” I said, biting down on my lip.
I had left my clothes at Eddie’s. Well fuck.
Previous Chapter: Chapter 07
Next Chapter: Chapter 09
We finally made it to the end of Chapter 08! This has been my longest chapter yet and I want to thank everyone who has been so patient with me. Chapter 09 is now in concept development. You guys might not see new pages on here for a while, but if you’re going through withdrawals and want to see behind the scenes process for Chapter 09, I’ll be posting exclusively on patreon for the next few months. And of course, any official page releases will of course still be posted here :)
---
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While the cops had been called, it was the local news station that got there first. The once empty woods was suddenly full of people peeping, pleading to procure a parable from my personage. Of course, top priority belonged to the victims of the whole ordeal. While I had been busy thwarting the likes of Larry Lemonade, Felix DID find another entrance to the cave.
And with it, Red and Maybelle Fawcett tied and gagged in the back room.
But that hardly mattered now. My more sociable sidekick had set on making them tea to relax their nerves, and once reporters arrived on the scene I had set on retelling the tale with every passion within me!
Unfortunately, the police had arrived shortly afterwards, and with it… taking my attention away from the lovely redhead fluttering her lashes my way. I was prepared to make a fuss about it. Who dared to interrupt the hero who had cracked open the lid on the whole case and thwart the thief?!
It was our old pal Constable Ogol who wanted my testimony first. Her glare was intense, and I’m sure the smug grin on my face wasn’t helping the matter any. But could you blame me? She HAD called me useless the last we spoke!
“Well well well, if it isn’t the Constable.” I greeted her. “ Last we spoke, I believe you were working on a case of your own. How did that go for ya, mac?”
The way she glared down at me, a puff of smoke exiting her nose as she snorted, told me it hadn’t gone well. I’ll admit, her sour mood may have felt kind of nice this time around.
“So, we had the wrong wolf.” She admitted, and I almost couldn’t believe it.
“You’re darn right you had the wrong wolf!” Her frown deepened and she took out her little notepad and began asking her questions.
“Larry Lemonade, huh? What did he want the Fawcetts for?”
She knew why! I’m sure she must have been briefed on the whole ordeal. And if not, well, there were very few reasons anybody snatched up anyone, I suppose. No matter, I wasn’t about to turn down another retelling of my heroic deeds.
“Ransom, naturally. He knew Maybelle’s son just so happened to be pretty well off, and no doubt planned to squeeze him for every dime he had.”
“Uh huh. And how, pray tell, did you figure this out? How did you even find this guy?”
At this I momentarily stumbled. I.. wasn’t exactly keen on sharing the fact I may have dug my own grave, with getting tied to Rumpelstiltskin. But surely she didn’t need to know all that… right?
Right.
I straightened myself up, making myself look broader as I wagged my head with pride.
“Well, if you must know, I took inspiration from you.”
“Me?”
Now this clearly caught the ogress off guard. And I must admit, the way it made her face light up in youthful surprise will be enough to keep me fueled with my gloating for some time to come.
“Yes, you.” I looked at my claws, inspecting them as if the conversation was trite-- a huge contrast to the giddiness I could barely contain. “ It was you that suggested meeting friends down at the pub. Mentioned meeting mutuals meandering about with information. You didn’t believe he was behind the crime, but seeing as I knew it wasn’t me… I had nothing to lose.”
This was followed by a grumble, as Constable Ogol was busy jotting down my every word-- and I could tell she was hating it all the while. Especially as she had to ask her follow up:
“How, exactly, did you apprehend the suspect?”
Ah, my favorite question! I flashed the constable my best smile and answered her inquiry.
“Larry Lemonade was no match for my wit, my muscle...” I pulled out my trusty tranquilizer gun, being careful not to point it at her, and patted it affectionately. “Or my sharp shooting. Yup! One dart from this baby and he was out like a light.”
I took this moment to, perhaps a bit foolishly, spin said gun around my furred finger ... and regretted it a moment later when I heard it fire and felt a sharp pain in my foot. I glanced down, my moment in the proverbial sun extinguished along with the light fading from my vision.
“That’s… not good.” I slurred, even as I found myself falling face first into darkness-- and no doubt into the arms of the looming annoyed ogress.
The case of HOW I got home after the embarrassing fumble… well. Let’s just say that was a mystery for another day.
Links: Chapter overview, Character list, Map, Glossar
Rating: M over all
Publishing cycle: each Friday on (link)
Remarks: all my chapters contain carefully selected music tracks. It’s your own decision if you want to use them or not while reading. The purpose is to musically support the respective mood of the plot. If you can please use a browser for reading (not the Tumblr app) due to the text formatting.
It was just before dawn when Mattias rode off to meet his companions. There was hardly anyone on the streets and he greeted friendly when he came past someone. After he passed the last house and took the path to the upper rock gate, he saw in the distance a vehicle with a canvas-covered body standing at the side of the road. When his companions noticed him, they waved at him.
When he reached them, he did not dismount but bent down and gave each of them a hand as a greeting. Both wore unobtrusive civil clothing.
“Good morning Trygve, good morning Kristina,” he said, sat up again and put both hands on top of each other on the pommel. “Ready for another trip to the Enchanted Forest?” he asked jokingly.
Trygve pulled a face, “Not really. It cost me almost my whole life.”
Kristina agreed and said, “Yes, I feel the same way. But you know, General Mattias, that we will always stand by your side faithfully. I hope we'll be away from there as soon as possible and I can enjoy my retirement on my little houseboat. The fjord is always better than that dreadful forest.”
Mattias nodded seriously, “I can understand that very well and I'm thankful for your willing to help me on this, hopefully very short mission, to get Elsa back to Arendelle incognito. I also want to return to Arendelle as soon as possible, to my dearest Halima. How have you been doing since you came back? We haven't had much of a chance to talk about it.”
“Well, I am back with my family and we are all doing very well. The financial support from the royal family, respectively from Queen Anna, has helped us all a lot and it makes life more comfortable,” answered Trygve.
Kristina looked far less satisfied and hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Unfortunately I have no one else. My relatives died three and four years ago. I visited their grave only last week. But I have made new friends and we do a lot together. I was also able to buy a houseboat and a small sloop with my severance pay. I sail out with it very often on the fjord.” After a little while, she added, “Over all, I'm doing quite well and I can be happy to spend my retirement in Arendelle this way.”
“I'm happy for you,” said Mattias and smiled, but then, turning to Kristina with a sad expression on his face, he added, “I'm sorry for you, Kristina, that you were not able to see your relatives again. My deepest condolences.”
She nodded sadly, "Thank you."
Trygve had looked at her with concern during her narration and now put a hand on her shoulder. “Sorry for you, Kristina, I didn't know.” They looked at each other. “Let's do something together when we get back ... and hey, if you don't mind I'd like to go for a sail on your sloop with you. I'll bring the food too.”
She laughed and nodded. “I'd love to, Trygve.” But then they both lapsed into thoughtful silence.
“All right, folks, the sun's coming up over the horizon. We should slowly set off,” Mattias interrupted their thoughts and took the reins in his hand.
The two nodded and got on the wagon side by side. Trygve had the draught horse trotted, Mattias rode after them. When they had passed the rock gate, Mattias looked back. The first sunrays had already reached the upper part of the castle and bathed the top in a warm light.
~~~
It was of course Olaf who was the first to notice that something was different than usual. While Kristoff and Anna were still enjoying their togetherness in bed, he had already gone outside in the early morning hours and looked around the camp. Since he had been able to read and write, had read all the books he found in the castle for the last two years, and was now even a regular guest in the Arendelle library, he had developed a new view of the world around him. He was curious and liked to combine contexts that no one else saw as he did. Where others took many things for granted, he questioned everything and was the only one who noticed that the Northuldra camp was unusually empty this morning. Apart from women and children, not a single one of the men was to be seen.
“Tell me, guys, isn't it curious that there are barely any men around the camp today? All I see are some women and their little ones.”
Anna and Kristoff sat together with him still a bit sleepy at the fireplace and looked now first at him, but then also peered around surprised.
“You are right, Olaf,” Anna said and raised her eyebrows. “Where did they all go?”
“Maybe they have heavy work to do and need all the strong men for it?” Kristoff surmised and shrugged his shoulders.
“Or maybe they are doing what they often do in Arendelle Castle in the morning when one of those council meetings is taking place,” Olaf replied. Anna and Kristoff looked at him in amazement.
“Might well be,” Anna pondered and nodded thoughtfully, but what could be so important and why didn't they tell me about it; she asked herself. It certainly has something to do with Elsa, but I am her sister and Queen of Arendelle after all, so I should also be informed about everything that concerns her. She made a thoughtful face.
“Let’s gonna find it out,” Kristoff said and stood up. Then he went straight to the next Northuldra woman who was repairing the tunic of one of her children. “Excuse me, but we were just wondering where all your men went. It's so empty in the camp today.”
“They have important things to do today,” she said with a smile and returned to her work. Kristoff turned to Anna, pursed his lips and, with his shoulders raised, spread his arms wide to communicate the disappointing answer.
Anna frowned and now also stood up to ask the next woman the same question. She headed for a young woman who was cutting vegetables for the morning soup in front of her kota. But Anna did not receive a satisfactory answer either, as her expression indicated, when she turned around again and looked at her companions helplessly.
Shaking her head, she went back. “I guess we won't get an answer from anyone else either, by the looks of it.” They both sat down again and looked at one another questioningly.
What have they got to hide; Anna asked herself, and above all why? She put her head in her hands and pondered.
~~~
Two Northuldra men waded through a shallow part of a quietly flowing wide creek and started to run faster once they reached the other side. The forest was slowly getting denser and man-sized bushes seemed to block the way. But the men knew exactly where a hidden path led through the undergrowth, and shortly afterwards they were no longer to be seen.
When they came out on the other side they stepped into a wide clearing. In the center was a large, elongated building, the upper part of which consisted of a tower-like construction, with skilfully timbered beams that protruded from the symmetrically built roof and ended at the upper end under a pyramid-shaped, open spire. Inside, a narrow wooden staircase led to the top, ending in a small platform. The lower part of the building had some narrow window openings placed remarkably high below the long roof boards, designed exclusively to let light into the interior.
Besides from the central entrance no windows were visible. Instead, at regular intervals long white birch branches were attached to the house in such a way that it almost looked as if they would support the whole structure. The branches protruded through the overhanging roof and then branched filigree upwards. Around the house, large birch trees grew at regular intervals, which were conspicuously straight and with their foliage formed a natural roof over the entire clearing and the building. This place looked impressive and almost magical.
The men rushed through the open double door and one of them pulled it shut behind him.
“Oh man, there you are at last, you're late! You must have been up against a big fish again, Joná?” joked one of the men standing near the entrance, laughing at the fisherman. It was the same one who had been on the beach the day before with a few others to interrogate Joná. Behind him, the hall was filled with Northuldra men, who seemed to be waiting for something, and some of them were talking animatedly.
Joná pulled a face, “Of course not, Völund, but the catch has to be brought to the camp by somebody, or do you want to have stinking fish on your plate later?” Völund waved off bored and turned around again.
The two fishermen looked at each other for a moment, nodded suspiciously and sneaked to the right side of the hall, where there was a second, smaller entrance. This door was wide open. Joná looked around and had to admit to himself that they had apparently really been the last, all the men from the camp were already present. Then he looked up in amazement. The room was very high with an open beam construction. Daylight flooded through the narrow windows. Torch holders were placed under each opening, and underneath them ran a balustrade around the entire interior. At the front, opposite the double doorway, a narrow staircase wound upwards, part of which led inwards in a semicircle and ended in a small opening at the top leading to the tower they had seen from the outside.
Joná had never been here, but of course he knew about the place and the purpose of it. In earlier days there was always a big kota in their camp, with a second entrance remarkably similar to the one he was standing next to now. This access was usually reserved for the shaman, the Noaidi of their people and this kota was used exclusively for rituals and the Norting, a grand assembly of his people. But this was long before his time and on recent decades, as he knew, there was no need of calling out a Great Ting. The last time was before the dam was built and the diplomatic negotiations with the foreigners from Arendelle were started. On these days, their elder had called for a meeting, but was shortly after murdered by this king behind his back. Today Yelana was their unspoken leader, and now it fell to her to proclaim a Norting if neccessary.
Joná was too young back then to attend such a meeting, but his father had told him all about it. Every man in his tribe ought to attend it as they came of age. At least when the opportunity arose. Today was apparently such a day, and Yelana, although not a Noaidi, just came in through the side door. She glanced around the hall for a moment and nodded at him briefly when she noticed him. Joná raised an eyebrow in surprise. Then she circled the waiting men and stood on one of the lower stairs to be heard well everywhere. It became quiet among those present.
She cleared her throat. “Traditionally, I am obliged to call a Norting when an important decision is about to be made and its consequence affect all of us. There are disturbing news related to recent events.”
In the hall there was a low murmur and many looked at each other with concern.
“However, I must first point out that my conclusions are based on suppositions, some of which have not yet been confirmed. Highly plausible assumptions, however. Our fifth spirit Elsa was probably attacked on purpose and there is possibly a certain person behind all this, someone who might have a good reason for it. That someone is also most likely behind the disappearance of the other four nature spirits.”
The worried murmurings in the hall abruptly increased.
“Hear me. I had a hunch, so I went to see Gyda yesterday.”
From the ranks of those present, someone shouted out loud and clear, “Gyda? What does this old witch have to do with it?”
Yelana's gaze swept around, angrily fixating on the one who presumed to disturb her speech and pointing at him with an admonishing index finger. “Be quiet and don't interrupt me! You have no idea what you are talking about. Gyda is not who many of us think she is. She is a solitary person, I admit, but she has been through a lot in her life, and if you would let me finish, you would understand.”
Yelana took a deep breath and outlined in short, rough words what Gyda had told her and how much it had burdened her. However, she left out the climax for now. Yelana was known for her seriousness, but there was one thing she did not miss out on, and that was to bring certain things to the point at the right time. Some of the younger men opened their eyes in surprise when she ended, but didn't dare say anything. Yelana noticed it, of course.
“Yes, those of you who were born under the mist may not have known it yet, but before Elsa, we had another fifth spirit. The older ones among you, including me, still knew him. He was difficult to deal with him, to say the least.”
Some nodded affirmatively.
“It was Gyda's own decision that she lived in seclusion ever since, and many of us have supported it. We have all, in our gullibility, judged her prematurely.”
One could see how many of the heads were lowered and it became quiet as a mouse.
And then Yelana got to the point, and somehow she enjoyed that moment, “Gyda had a son!”
It was quiet for a second, and everyone remained motionless to process what they had heard, but in the next second a wave of excited, loud word fragments burst onto Yelana, when most people suddenly realized what it meant. Yelana let them go for a few moments, but then struck several times hard with her gnarled birch cane on one of the steps above her. The whole construction vibrated and boomed and it became instantly quiet again in the hall.
“We do not know what he is capable of. But the fact that he apparently has the spirits under control and tried to kill Elsa and almost succeeded tells me that he is not to be underestimated by no means. He is different from his father in one crucial respect. He's out for revenge. Revenge on all those who were partly responsible for his father's death. Revenge on all those who came from Arendelle, home of that murderer Runeard.” She let the words sink in, then continued in a softer, but insistent voice.
“I deliberately did not invite Queen Anna and her companions, for as long as they are among us, we too may be the target of Kolgrimr, the name Gyda gave to him. For the time being, none of them may know our secret of the old fifth spirit and his son, and if they had not already planned to leave tomorrow and take Elsa with them, I would have arranged for it myself. Both Anna and Elsa are half Northuldra and half Arendellian and are descended from one of our oldest families. We owe them both so much when they freed us last year and we have made a new peace between us and Arendelle. But I admonish you all anyway. All this is something that we cannot control and we all have to decide this way, because unfortunately there is still something you do not know.”
Yelana paused in the silence and then looked over to Joná. “Come here, Joná,” she said forcefully and waved him over.
All heads turned and looked into the corner where he was standing. Völund's jaw dropped and Joná didn't know what was happening to him. He hesitated and looked around him nervously.
“You need not be afraid. Come...,” Yelana added reassuringly. Slowly he moved towards her, his head lowered and he wished he could hide now, it was clearly visible on his face. Finally he stood next to her and she put her hand on his shoulder.
“Because we had just talked about the fact that many of us have many prejudices and show a lack of respect for one of our own. Here stands Joná and he has done something that showed a lot of courage and conviction to want to help us all. He dared to approach Ahtohallan with his boat despite the ban, because he wanted to find out what was behind all these events. I don't mean to say that I approve, but he found out something that we otherwise wouldn’t know and which was ultimately decisive in convening this Norting.” She whispered to him that he could go back, and Joná hurried to comply.
“Ahtohallan lies beneath a magical fog wall, identical to the one that trapped most of us here for over 34 years. This is probably also the reason why Ahtohallan no longer has a connection to the nature spirits and can no longer help us. There is only one person who can be responsible for this and I hope you now understand why we are all in great danger if this kind of threat should come upon us.”
The ensuing turmoil was indescribable and Yelana had a hard time bringing everyone back to their senses. In the end, she raised both arms and moved her hands up and down to appease them.
“Please calm down again! I can understand your concern, but we are not his main target, please be aware of that. Kolgrimr survived somewhere under the mist completely alone for over 35 years since he was a seven year old kid and he never turned against us once. I guess none of us can even imagine the hatred and despise he has for Arendelle. That is also the reason why none of them can stay among us here. He has only recently started to put his plans into action and I can only hope that Elsa will very soon remember who she was before and what powers she once had. Keep your eyes and ears open and tell me immediately if you discover anything unusual. But please, stay away from him. He may be Northuldra, but no one can say what has become of him in all this time.”
Yelana took a deep breath and finally dissolved the assembly. “That's all for now. You can go back to camp now.”
As the last of them had streamed out of the hall, she sat down on the stairs, a little exhausted. “I don't want to be in the shoes of the Arendellians and I hope that Elsa still has her magic,” she muttered softly to herself and it sounded almost like a prayer.
~~~
---
I hope you have enjoyed this chapter! Please leave a comment if you liked the story, I would be pleased to read your opinions, even criticisms. If you want to be tagged as soon I publish the next chapter please let me know.
Remarks: Back when I was writing this chapter, I dreamed of this hidden building and always wished that someone might be able to draw it for me or that I would be able to do it myself. It wasn't until recently that I dared to do an edit and took Disney's concept art of the Northuldra-style Arendelle Castle as a basis for my story and modified it accordingly. I wish I had better quality imagery for the two Northuldra fishermen there, it took me quite a bit of effort. Hope you like the result.
Frisk jumped with a small squeal. Whipping around, their eyes settled on something that made their heart stop for a moment. The child stumbled back and hit their head against the prison bars with a twang.
“Oh darling, are you alright?” The voice of the stranger was syrupy sweet and twinged with flamboyance, but it sounded genuine.
Frisk nodded, their eyes wide to take in the surprise guest. It was a ghostly figure, rounded at the top with a misty white body fluttering beneath them, not unlike a beach ball covered in a bed sheet. They were semi-transparent and had no arms or legs, instead floating at about eye height from the floor. In the middle of their “face” were two enormous eyes over a wide, smiling mouth.
“Who are you?” Frisk asked, “How’d you get in here?”
“Through the wall, of course!” the ghost gestured with a turn of its body towards the back end of the cell, “Perks of being incorporeal. We weren’t planning on coming in but all that shouting got our attention. That Chara certainly has a mouth on them, don’t they?” They did not pause long enough for Frisk to answer, “Though you’re no push over either, darling. Good for you! Blooky could learn a thing or two from you.”
“Um, thank you...” Frisk trailed off, then hesitated. They had a lot of questions, but were unsure of where to start.
The ghost took the pause as an invitation to continue. “So tell me, darling, whatever did you do to make Chara so angry? They may be a little strict at times, but Chara’s certainly not the type to threaten lives!”
“I’ve been trying to figure that out myself,” Frisk sighed, then murmured, “They’ve been trying to kill me since I got here.”
“Speak up dear, we can barely hear you.”
“We?” Frisk repeated, “Who’s we?”
“Why, myself and Napstablook of course, they— wait a minute—” the ghost looked to the left and right, before turning to the empty wall behind them, “Blooky, become visible this instant! It’s rude to lurk!”
“Sorry…” a weak voice lilted from the corner. A second ghost faded into view: it was nearly identical to the first, but had downcast eyes and a small, pensive mouth, “I didn’t want... to interrupt…”
“Seriously? What am I going to do with you?” the first ghost turned back to Frisk, its expression twinged with irritation, “I apologize for my cousin’s lack of manners. Blooky isn’t much of a social butterfly.”
“It’s okay, I understand,” Frisk smiled, “I would turn invisible too, if I could.”
“Well now, enough about that,” the first ghost said, “As the only two members of the human fanclub, we have questions that need answering. Tell us, human, who are you and how did you get yourself tossed in the slammer? Spare us no detail!”
“Well, my name is Frisk,” the child answered, “And the rest is kind of a long story.”
***
With arms crossed, Chara tapped their foot as the castle elevator lifted them upwards. Frisk’s propensity to not only survive but to charm had accelerated their plans, but the plan was still firmly in place as long as they moved fast.
Chara checked the time on their phone, but the glowing 12:38 AM wasn’t of much use to them. After everything they did and undid, they could no longer remember when they had left the castle. The doors of the elevator rolled open, and Chara burst out, running the full length of the way home. Every other step caused their knee to throb with pain, the bruises from Frisk’s attack still freshly coagulating in their leg.
They only slowed when they reached the front yard, taking a few moments to catch their breath and rub their aching knee.
The living room light flicked on.
Fresh fear seized them. Were they too late?
Chara raced forward before halting again to open the door as quietly as their shaking hands would allow. Inside, the foyer was dark and comforting. Quiet.
“Chara?” Asriel said, near silhouetted in the doorway of the living room, “Where did you go?”
Chara put a finger to their lips, glancing down the bedroom hall before shutting the door with a soft click. “Are your parents awake?” Chara hissed.
“No, I don’t think so,” Asriel whispered back, “What’s going on? Were you running?”
“Not important.” Chara’s gaze was piercing in the low light, “Get dressed and meet me outside. Whatever you do, do not wake Asgore and Toriel. Go now.”
***
“...And I’ve been in this cell ever since.” Frisk finished their story with a sigh. Their spectral audience of two were perched at the end of the cot with Frisk seated on the other side. Frisk hadn’t had much opportunity to process everything that had happened, let alone explain it, and doing so left them feeling exhausted. The only other time they’d told their story was to the Dreemurrs, and that had been erased by a swing of Chara’s blade.
“Since they put me here, Chara’s prevented me from speaking to anyone,” Frisk added. It was tempting to tell the ghost monsters of how they had been killed and revived through some sort of time travel, but Frisk decided against it. Their experience was unbelievable, even to Frisk. The fact that they were alive to tell the tale contradicted their own story, and it was clear Chara was too beloved for an accusation of murder to be believed. Instead, Frisk only admitted that they had been attacked and chased by Chara, and the monsters had trouble accepting even that much.
“I’m sure if I just had a chance to talk to the King or Queen or Asriel, they’d let me go home,” Frisk looked at both ghosts in turn for some sort of affirmation, but the specters only exchanged a tense glance.
“It’s not that simple, sweetheart,” the outspoken ghost replied, “If we could just walk out, no one would be in the Underground.”
“What do you mean?”
“Yes, I suppose you wouldn’t know the prophecy, would you?” the ghost mused, “I’ll give you the short version. A long time ago, humans trapped us in this mountain using a magical barrier. They say only a powerful soul can pass through it, much more powerful than that of a monster! But! If a monster absorbs a human soul, they can walk right through the barrier. With seven human souls, they can break it and free everyone!”
“Human souls?” Frisk placed a hand over their heart. If souls served such an important purpose, Chara’s demented antics might make at least some sort of sense. “But Chara is a human. Why haven’t they left yet?” Frisk asked.
“Now that’s the million dollar question, isn’t it? Chara has made it clear that they prefer the company of monsters to humans, so perhaps they’d rather just stay down here with us.” The ghost smirked, leaning forward, “But you know what I think? I don’t think their single human soul is strong enough to pass through the barrier. Otherwise they would have already left to fetch us more souls.”
“Maybe... Chara would be able to cross the barrier... if they absorbed a boss monster soul…...” Napstablook added meekly.
“Blooky, don’t be ridiculous! Chara wouldn’t dream of harming the Dreemurrs!”
“But they’ll harm me,” Frisk stated. Both ghosts froze as if Frisk’s words chilled the very air.
“So, I’m trapped here forever?” Frisk asked. A pit formed in their stomach. They had only just arrived in the Underground, yet had experienced enough stress to last a lifetime. Being unable to die wasn’t much comfort when they still had the capacity to suffer. Frisk bowed their head, “Trapped until Chara... takes my soul?”
The ghosts frowned at each other, and for a moment, they looked almost identical. An uneasy quiet filled the room for a few solemn seconds. The quiet ghost was the first to break the silence.
“Frisk… please don’t give up…..”
Frisk’s vision swam as they tried to look up at Napstablook. They pressed the sleeve of their sweater to their eyes before any tears could fall.
“That’s right, you aren’t out of options, dear!” the cheery ghost exclaimed, “After all they say a strong soul can pass the barrier, and you may have one that’s sufficient, darling!”
“You think so?” Frisk placed a hand over their heart.
“Yes yes, there’s nothing in the prophecy that says humans can’t get through the barrier on their own. And maybe your soul is stronger than Chara’s. It’s worth a shot, isn’t it?”
Frisk took a deep breath and nodded. The excitable ghost continued, “Do you know where the barrier is? It’s in the King and Queen’s house, in the basement. I’d be lying if I said I haven’t wandered in there once or twice,” they said with a wink.
Frisk thought back to their short time in the Dreemurr’s house. There were a set of stairs leading down near the front door. “Yeah, I know where it is. But how can I get there? I can’t pass through walls like y—”
“Do you hear that?” the talkative one interrupted and glanced towards the hallway. Frisk strained their ears, but couldn’t hear a thing. “I think the guards are coming, I’ll check.” With impressive speed, the specter zipped through the stone wall towards the exterior doors of the jail, leaving Frisk alone with Napstablook.
“I know it’s not much…” Napstablook spoke softly, “But I do hope... you can go home...”
“Me, too. Thank you,” Frisk smiled.
Napstablook’s cousin returned, this time carefully passing through the jail bars, “Just my imagination it seems, but I think we’ve overstayed our welcome. Blooky, let’s head out.”
“Already? But—” Frisk protested, only to be interrupted by the flamboyant specter.
“Yes, already, but it was lovely meeting you, dear!” the ghost rushed Frisk in what could only be interpreted as an armless hug. Perplexed, Frisk raised their arms in an attempt to hug them back. While they attempted to embrace the incorporeal being, they felt something fall into their lap with a clink.
“I think you should get going too, darling,” the ghost whispered before pulling away. “Now, Blooky! Let’s get out of here before those insufferable dogs show up, chop chop!”
“Good luck, Frisk...” Nabstablook murmured as their cousin ushered them out of the cell, “You’ll be okay…”
With that final word of encouragement, they were gone. Frisk examined the ghosts’ parting gift with renewed determination. It was the key to the cell.
***
The worn interior of the elevator hummed softly as it plunged Chara and Asriel deeper into the Earth. The lowest light on the button panel was illuminated, foreshadowing a long, long elevator ride.
“Chara…” Asriel hesitated, waiting for his partner to give him acknowledgement. None came, however, and he was forced to continue without it. “Chara, where are we going?”
“You should know,” Chara responded, still facing the button panel, “You were here recently. Counting souls, correct?”
Asriel stilled. He swallowed before answering, “Yes, a few weeks ago. How did you know—”
“I have my ways, Asriel. I must say, I don’t appreciate you keeping secrets from me.”
Asriel shook his head, “It wasn’t a secret. I just—”
Chara turned their head, looking Asriel up and down from the corner of their eye.
He backpedaled, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hide it from you. It had been so long since we talked about— you know— the barrier, and I wanted to know if… if...” He trailed off, not expecting to make it to the end of the sentence without being interrupted. Chara turned their body to face him, crossing their arms. The elevator continued to hum. “...If there were any more added,” he finished.
“And? Are you satisfied? Was it worth sneaking around behind my back?”
“No, I’m sorry,” Asriel hung his head.
“‘I’m sorry.’ I have been hearing nothing but apologies from you recently.”
“I’m sorr—”
“Stop.”
Asriel bit back the urge to apologize again. Not knowing what to say, he stayed silent.
“I do not want to hear apologies. I want you to do better.” Chara waited for Asriel to nod, then sighed. They leaned against the corner of the elevator and closed their eyes, “I do not want to be so hard on you, Asriel. But the truth is: there is something important I have to tell you, and I am not sure if you are ready to hear it. This… might be the most difficult thing I have ever done.”
“You can tell me,” Asriel said.
“I can tell you,” Chara repeated, “But can I trust you?”
“Of course, you can always trust me.”
Chara’s eyes flicked open with a glare, “No. I cannot.”
Asriel’s protest was interrupted by the soft ping of the elevator reaching its destination. The Lab. Chara watched the doors slide open, and one by one sickly blue-white lights flicked on down the length of the hallway beyond.
“But I do not have much choice. Come.” Chara ordered, leading the way.
The familiar smell of old rubber and musty drywall cloyed at Asriel’s senses, but the oppressive atmosphere was nothing compared to the shame weighing in his stomach. There was only one location of interest left in the lab and Chara took him right to it: the room that stored the souls. Chara unlocked the door and ushered Asriel inside. The room was once a lab, now empty save for counter tops, cabinets, and a flimsy table and chair covered in dust. Chara grabbed the table and dragged it noisily along the floor towards the back of the room, where a large steel cabinet was fixed with a deadbolt. A second key from Chara’s pocket unlocked it.
Asriel fidgeted. He had so many questions to ask, but he knew asking them would put his trust into question. Chara said this was important and difficult, and he wasn’t going to make this harder for them, even as dread welled up inside him.
Chara pulled the cabinet doors open, and the room was softly illuminated with multicolored light. One by one they removed the soul jars within and set them in a row along the table. Orange. Purple. Blue. Green. Yellow. The light from the souls was cold and unnerving.
“Asriel,” Chara finally spoke.
Asriel straightened, tearing his eyes away from the specters, “Yes, Chara?”
Chara walked around the table and leaned against it to face Asriel. The light of the souls cast their shape in near silhouette. “What I’m about to tell you is not going to be easy to accept. But you must not doubt me.”
“Of course,” Asriel answered.
Chara chuckled, weariness edging into their voice, “I wish I could believe you. You are going to accuse me of losing my mind.”
“No, I won’t!” his words were emphatic, “I know I mess up all the time, but I love you more than anyone. Please let me prove that to you!”
“If you insist,” Chara paused, gathering their thoughts. The suspense hung in the air.
Finally they spoke, “The little human you have grown a soft spot for. It is not what it seems.”
“You mentioned something about that,” Asriel nodded, “You said they were dangerous.”
“That was an understatement,” Chara’s eyes narrowed, “At the time I had no idea how deep their depravity went. That human can manipulate time itself.”
“What?” Asriel’s eyebrows knitted together.
“Ah. You don’t believe me.”
“No, no!” Asriel shook his head, “I do. What do you mean by that?”
“Exactly what I said. The human is able to do as it pleases— lying, hunting, attacking— then moves the clock back to undo the consequences of its behavior. The effect of this power causes everyone to forget what the human has done, save for me.”
“That’s…” Asriel started, searching for the right word.
“Crazy?” Chara’s eyes widened as they smiled, “Impossible? Insane?”
“...Horrible.”
“Yes it is,” Chara frowned, “While it has been only one evening for you, I have experienced days worth of torment at the hands of that vermin. They have tortured and even murdered me while manipulating you to believe them to be harmless and innocent.”
“Murdered?” Asriel felt dizzy. He thought of Frisk’s soft voice and small smile; how small and vulnerable they seemed under Chara’s capture. That was all an act? He wanted to say it was unbelievable. He wanted to ask for proof. But how could he? If the child really was so deceptive and powerful, he’d have to take Chara at their word.
“The funny thing is,” Chara continued, “What I have suffered at its hands is not even the worst part. No. The worst part is watching it turn you against me.”
“I’m not against you,” Asriel replied in a hushed voice.
“Not presently, but you have been. You will be. I’ve watched you betray me over and over and over. That despicable thing is driving us apart, endearing itself to you while making me look insane for fighting against it. I’m the only one who knows the truth, and yet, completely powerless. Completely alone.”
“I’m sorry, Chara,” Asriel felt tears welling in the corner of his eyes. The doubt he felt ached with guilt, so he forced his mind to accept Chara’s story. Frisk was a manipulator. Frisk was a killer. He took a deep breath and tried to will the tears from falling, “I’m sorry for betraying you. How can we stop Frisk? Is there anything I can do?” His voice wavered as he asked. The souls continued to gleam behind Chara.
“Yes. I have a plan, but first you must swear never to doubt me again.”
“Okay.”
“And that you will never betray me, no matter what the human says.”
“I won’t!”
“And that you will trust me unconditionally.”
“Yes, I promise.”
“Say it.” Chara demanded.
Asriel’s voice shook, “I promise I’ll never doubt you or betray you, no matter what happens.”
Chara relaxed, and they smiled with an earnestness that Asriel had missed, “Thank you. You have given me the courage I needed, Asriel.” They pushed themself off the table and turned around to face the souls. “Now to do what I should have done a long time ago.”
With one swift gesture, Chara swept their arm in an arc, knocking the soul jars to the ground. Asriel cried out as glass sprayed across the concrete floor, releasing the souls from containment. The glowing specters rose up from the floor around the caretaker, their multicolored light casting Chara’s deranged smile in stark relief.
“Chara, what are you doing?!” Asriel shouted, pressing back against the closed door behind him.
“We are going to the surface, Asriel. And you are going to take us there,” Grinning, Chara pointed their knife toward their partner. A knife? When did they get the knife?
Chara continued, “Every minute the human remains in the Underground is putting us on a path of irreversible calamity. With the power from these souls, we will retrieve the seventh soul from the surface and bring justice and balance to the world.”
“No!” Asriel cried out in spite of himself, “There has to be another way!”
“I have tried everything else already. This is the only way. Asriel, you must trust me.”
“Chara!” Asriel choked. Hot tears ran down his face, “Please, I can’t do this!”
“You will not be alone, Asriel,” Chara pointed their knife to their chest, the tip carefully positioned between their ribs, “After all, we will always be together.”
Asriel surged forward, the fear of the souls pushed away by a much greater threat.
Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions
Chapter 8
I graciously accepted the platter, and leaned in a little closer to McKenzie so that our arms touched. “Potatoes?” I asked in a soft whisper.
Those sexy, sultry, slutty potatoes. God, how can anybody stand the sexual tension of this scene?
I cannot with this book. Why is he whispering this in her ear?
“Your phone, Drew.” She nodded toward my pants. “Answer it.”
I blinked several times, lost and confused, before I lifted my hips,
pulling the phone from my pocket. Within an instant my stomach soured. I closed my hand around the phone, clenching my jaw in aggravation. “What the hell could she want?” I muttered under my breath.
McKenzie leaned in closer to me. “You really should take that.”
I shook my head, lifting my hips to put the phone back in my pocket. “Not right now.”
“Andy,” the cadence of her tone held a strong warning. “Take the call.”
JFC, I don't even know what the hell that McKenzie even wants anymore. Like she clearly missed Drew a lot, but she's encouraging him to take calls from Olivia.
I looked down into the crystal blue water, wanting nothing more than to throw my cell phone into its depths.
He really should.
Well, maybe not so dramatic as a pool toss, but a change of number would really start to hammer the point to Olivia that she isn't welcome in Drew's life at all.
“I have no reason to disbelieve Olivia, except for my need to disprove that this baby could be mine.”
Actually, from my perspective, there's literally nothing Olivia has done to prove that the baby IS Drew's. She's lied to him over and over, and went so far as to LIE ABOUT BEING IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH DREW.
I don't know why he's so eager to believe her, especially when this broke up him and McKenzie and is LITERALLY RUINING HIS LIFE.
“You’re saying Mickie was going to allow herself to be happy, even if it might hurt Olivia? Are you sure?”
To be fair, have you met Olivia? The girl was openly lying to everybody about being in a relationship with Drew, despite it having ended months earlier.
There's “this is out of character for her to be so cruel”. And then there's “she's really out of line and we're staging an intervention”.
“Because,” she curled her fingers against my chest; a mischievous smirk expanded over her lips, “this.” And that’s when she pushed me over the edge.
Chapter 8 summary: Everybody is having their dinner, and generally just having a good time. Drew is openly flirting with McKenzie, and she's responding in kind.
But then he gets a call from Olivia. And McKenzie tells him to go out back to take it. So he does.
And that goes about as you'd expect. She's jealous and angry that he's going on holiday, and didn't immediately respond to her call. However, at least Drew weaponizes Olivia's own stupidity and uses it against her in regards to time zones. (She thinks that they're in Vegas, remember? It's a couple hours behind Texas.)
After he hangs up, Bill comes out. They talk a lot about the Olivia situation, including how Drew and McKenzie were going to tell Olivia to fuck all the way off... when Olivia dropped the baby bomb on them. Bill asks Drew what he'd do if McKenzie no longer wants him. He responds by saying that he'd give up. If only because him coming to Texas IS him fighting for McKenzie. But this pleases Bill, and he tells Drew to be patient and try to push past McKenzie's stubbornness.
McKenzie comes out as Bill goes in. She kind of alludes to how much she misses Florida. Drew leans in for a kiss, but McKenzie, as mature as she is, pushes him into the pool.
Chapter 9
“Five mowe minutes,” Justice demanded.
I'm honestly getting really fucking sick of this character.
What autistic people want: representation in novels. A character who is openly autistic
What autistic people don't want: a belittling mockery of their disorder played up for the cute factor.
Olivia was pregnant, and unless a test proved otherwise, I was going to be a father.
I'm getting really tired of saying this over and over again, so I'm probably not going to talk about it much anymore.
I leaned in and brushed a tender kiss to her cheek, and then left the house without so much as looking back.
Chapter 9 summary: In the pool, Drew grabs onto McKenzie and pulls her in, too. The two of them play-fight in the water, and they're just about to kiss when Gage comes out and makes trouble. His shout draws everybody else out. And then McKenzie's 12 year old cousin with the mental capacity of a four year old decides to dive into the pool, too. Despite his mother's screams “no! I don't have other clothes for you!”
So they get out, and make a big fuss over Justice being all wet. Everybody starts to leave after that. Once they're alone again, McKenzie asks Drew for breakfast the next morning. But then they remember that Drew's phone has been in his pocket, and he finds it funny how he wanted to chuck it into the pool earlier. He promises that it's not a big deal, and that he'll just get a new one. McKenzie tells him to come to her apartment tomorrow morning, and gives him a list of groceries to bring.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
A feather leads, a demon follows, and a concert is not attended.
Written by @syl-writes-stuff
Beta’d by the incomparable @skimmingmilk
—
Chapter 08
1984
Soho, London
Something had gone wrong in Heaven. It was the only explanation Crowley had for why he spent fifteen years searching for and unable to track down Aziraphale. He’d known the moment the angel had arrived back on Earth, as he’d known for millennia, but no matter how hard he looked, he couldn’t pinpoint the exact location. It was like a blanket had fallen across the UK one sweltering July day in 1969 and just hadn’t left. It kept any attempts to find his angel muffled and tangled.
And it ratcheted up his anxiety like- like something extremely bloody stressful. He couldn't simile when his mind was reeling, and it was most definitely reeling. What could’ve gone wrong? Had they amped up their punishment because of the possession thing? Had they known? An angel could Fall for something that outside the lines, but he’d know if his angel ever had his holiness burned away. As much as he didn’t want it to happen, he’d catch him on the way down if it did.
He hoped She knew that.
He hoped more that it wouldn’t always be like this. There was no going back to Eden, and he wasn’t nearly naive enough to believe things would ever be that simple again for anyone. But to actually have an angel who remembered would be...
It would be better than good.
Crowley sighed to himself, taking the angel feather out of his jacket pocket. It was as white and pristine as it had been the day it had fluttered down to him in 1941.
