The reason why Jaskier is such a great singer is because he learned breath control early on as a child. He didn't know yet that you needed that for singing, no, he had a different motive for training his lungs. He loved wishing on dandelions, but surely a single dandelion only allowed for a small wish. One dandelion would make it so that he would find a cat he could befriend. Something inconsequential. But little Jaskier was convinced that the bigger the wish, the more dandelions he had to wish on. And so he trained to one day be able to make a wish worthy of a whole bouquet of dandelions.
It isn't until he meets Geralt that his lungs have grown strong enough to support such a wish. Uncharacteristically for him, he thinks long and hard about what sort wish he should make, until finally, he settles on wishing for Geralt's happiness.
The dandelion seeds dance in the wind and Geralt looks at Jaskier curiously as he asks him what he had wished for.
"The most important thing, my friend."
Geralt hums and there is a smile dancing across his lips as he watches Jaskier pluck some more dandelions. Jaskier is a dreamer. He wholeheartedly believes in the power of wishes, so it doesn't even cross his mind that maybe Geralt has his happiness already and that it isn't the dandelions that made it so.
Years later, Jaskier is gathering dandelions again. More than he ever had before, enough that he's afraid even his impressive set of lungs won't be enough to blow them all away and grant him his wish. But it's an important wish, a huge one, so he keeps gathering dandelions.
Geralt is watching him with an amused expression that does nothing to hide the softness in his eyes.
"What are you going to wish for?" Geralt asks, crossing the field of wildflowers until he is by Jaskier's side.
"I can't tell you or else it won't work." It might not work anyway, Jaskier's treacherously bearing heart supplies. You've kept this wish a secret for years and it still hasn't come true, no matter how many shooting stars or dandelions you wished on.
Jaskier ignores the voice of doubt and insecurity and stubbornly plucks another flower.
"You could paraphrase it," Geralt says. "You're good at describing things without outright saying them."
Jaskier hesitates. This might work.
"I'm wishing for my own happiness," Jaskier says.
Immediately, Geralt's brows furrorw. "Are you not happy? We can go to more towns if you're tired of the woods. Or we can find some festival for you to play at."
Something inside Jaskier softens.
"I am happy." With one hand, he takes home of Geralt's, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "There's just one thing that would make me even happier."
"What is it?" There's an unknown eagerness to Geralt's voice and his eyes are searching Jaskier's face.
"Can't tell. Rules are rules." He winks at Geralt, takes a deep breath and releases all the air.
Dandelion seeds dance around them like snowflakes. Some get caught in their hair, some fly away like a flock of birds - and some stick to the flowers, refusing to be blown away.
Jaskier's face falls as he runs out of air and not all the stems in his hand are bare. It didn't work. He isn't good enough to make this wish.
"Hey," Geralt says softly, tilting Jaskier's chin up, so that he's looking at him instead of the sad dandelions. "Don't worry about it. We'll get your happiness." He hesitates. "Can you tell me what I need to do to make you happy now?"
Jaskier's throat is thick as he looks into Geralt's eyes, his open and warm expression. His wish didn't work. He has nothing to lose, no other way of getting what he so desperately wants.
"I wish you would kiss me." His voice is but a whisper, but Geralt hears it anyway.
His hand trails up to Jaskier's cheek, caressing it tenderly, before leaving him again. Without breaking eye contact, Geralt takes Jaskier's hand that is still holding the dandelions and lifts it up so it it almost at a hight with his face.
"See, that's why it didn't work," Geralt says. "We had to blow the dandelions together."
"What do you -"
"It wasn't only your wish." With that, Geralt blows on the remaining dandelions. The last seeds fly away. Jaskier's eyes follow them, but Geralt's head comes up again cupping his cheek and turning his face towards him.
And finally, finally, Jaskier's wish is granted. His two wishes, really. In the end, they both get their happiness.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: William T. Spears/Grell Sutcliff
Characters: William T. Spears, Grell Sutcliff
Additional Tags: Presents, Gifts, fluff?
Summary:
Short piece where William receives order to go to Germany with Grell.
The popularity of my head cannon post on the origins of Grell's coat in Germany has convinced me to write a short story on it. Enjoy.
Fluff and Stuff, not a native speaker. Read on Ao3
By now the Tv was only background noise. Eliotts head was resting on his chest, their fingers intertwined, their conversation long stopped. Lucas wasn’t sure, but he thinks Eliott had fallen asleep again. He was like a large dog, cuddled to his side, one leg draped over his body, trying to make himself as small as possible, squeezing himself into all the small spaces next to Lucas.
The whole weekend had been much of the same. After running back to the apartment, still on their soaring high, they turned the bathtub into a rainbow coloured mess. When they finally decided to be clean enough, after maybe showering a little too long, loosing themselves in each other again, they fell onto the sofa, continuing to kiss each other breathless, just feeling the other one. Being so close, Lucas had never imagined it possible. After all this hardship, all this heart break to finally be next to him like this. Feeling Eliotts finger drawing burning patterns on his back, feeling his breath on his neck and lighting him on fire. It was overwhelming.
Of course they also talked about it, about what happened, about their “relationship”. He didn’t even have to think twice, when he told Eliott that he wanted something serious. It was such a stark contrast to the last weekend he still didn’t feel 100 percent certain of everything. But with Eliott next to him like this, it was hard not to hope and fall for him more than ever. And he really was falling hard. In the hours spend with him, Lucas learned more and more about him, so how could he not fall deeper down that rabbit hole?
For once, Eliott was the worst cook, with also the strangest taste out there. He would mix the most uncommon ingredients and conjure the most gruesome meals, Lucas literally had to barf his breakfast into the sink. He was also the most cuddliest person on this planet. Not a second went by where he didn’t reach out for the smaller boy. Like he had to make sure Lucas was really here and not a manifestation of some kind. Constantly Eliotts hands where somewhere on his body, running over his arms, clinging around his waist, his head in Lucas hair. But what he loved even more, was when Lucas pulled him in, hugging him closely from behind, playing big spoon and keeping him safe. Running his fingers through Eliotts wild mane. He nearly purred. No joke. Eliott also slept a lot. He could nearly see the rings under his eyes disappear. The separation seemingly also took a toll on him. But then again, Eliott only fell asleep when his large body was nestled against Lucas, and the smaller boy absently stroked his cheek and dropped kisses after kisses on top of his head. But Lucas wouldn't dare to complain, he was happy to serve as a pillow for this boy, more than he could ever tell.
Over the weekend they watched countless movies, Eliotts and Lucas taste of course a vast difference. Himself living for horror movies and thrillers, the older boy loving independent ones, the artsy kind, with epic love stories. Yes, he was that kind of cliché. But he really should have guessed, after the whole Polaris thing. Somehow though, they never really seemed to catch more than the intro of a film, too quickly getting lost in each other’s eyes and touches. Lucas heart constantly beating in hyper speed. Eliotts showering him with kisses, playfully biting light bruises onto his neck.
Slowly but surely Lucas could feel himself getting hungry again. He smiled, so the saying was right, you couldn’t just live a lush life off nothing but mere air and love. Quietly he slipped out of the covers into some sweats and made his way into the kitchen. He was just putting the pasta into a boiling pot when he heard steps behind him. It was really endearing, seeing Eliott like this. His hair tousled, his eyes still heavy from sleep. He was wearing one of Lucas jackets, which looked really hilarious, as it was at least two numbers to small, the sleeves far too short, not even covering his wrists. Lucas smiled as Eliotts hands encircled him and he pressed a small kiss onto his forehead. “Why did you leave? What are you doing?” - “I thought we should probably eat something eatable for once.” The taller boy chuckled lightly and tightened the embrace. “Maybe for people without taste buds. I thought the Poni was delicious.” - “I think you are the one without taste buds. It tasted like feet!” He just got his hair tousled for that comment. “hm, would you rather eat Poni for the rest of your life? Or feet once?”
That was another thing Eliott did, playing a little game of would you rather. It ranged from just plain preposterous questions of “would you rather have three arms or three eyes”, to more serious ones. Like the one he asked the night before. They were lying comfortable on the sofa, darkness stretching over them, Lucas mind unable to focus on anything but Eliott. Feeling every movement, feeling every kiss igniting a firework on his skin. Their clothes somewhere on the floor, the room filled just with heavy breaths and small moans. “Lulu?” He pouted as Eliott stopped dragging his lips over his body. He tried to catch them again, pulling his head closer to Eliotts, but Eliott himself seemed determinded to keep Lucas a few centimetres away. “Lucas?” “Hmh?” He was still pouting, damn it, he really never thought he would be that kind of guy, so unbelievable needy. “What is it?” - “Would you rather…” - “Really? That’s why you stopped kissing me? I still don’t know, probably the jumping 6 feet high all the time thing. Now kiss me. ” Eliott smirked and Lucas knew he could see right through his annoyed facade. “That’s not what I wanted to ask.” Eliotts voice was soft, uneven. This was something serious and he wanted an earnest answer, Lucas could tell. “Would you rather… do this all again with me? Or have the chance to go back and change everything back to the way it was?”
He could see the insecurity in Eliotts eyes. Could tell that there was a deeper meaning, a deeper fear even if he wasn’t sure what exactly it was just yet. But nonetheless the answer still was easy, simple really. “I would. I have never felt something like this. It never happened before.” He felt Eliott nuzzling closer, his mouth near Lucas ear. A soft whisper “Me neither.” This weren’t just butterflys in his stomach. It was a whole zoo.
“Are you staying tonight?” this time it was Lucas soft, uncertain voice breaking through the silence. “I told you, I am not going anywhere.” - “So, we’ll go to school together tomorrow?” - “Yes, lulu. I have to show you off tomorrow, so everybody knows.” A light laugh escaping his lips. “How are you planning to do that?” - “Well first I will walk into the common room and label that butt print on the wall as yours.” - “There weren’t any butt prints! I checked!” Eliott only huffed. “Yes, there where and you know it! But for now, I know something I like to do.” In anticipation of a kiss Lucas etched even closer, as if it was possible to be any closer than this. “Hmh and what’s that?” Instead of an answer Eliott leaned away from him and picked up his phone from the table next to the couch, opening Instagram and snapping a quick picture of both of them. He quickly wrote a caption and posted it. Lucas would be lying if his heart didn’t fly out of his chest right then and there, happiness practically overflowing. Lui. “You like it?” As answer Lucas just kissed him, trying to take his breath away, just as much as Eliott did his. Trying to tell him all the things he couldn’t yet manage to tell. You are the only one that matters. And I love you, I love you, I love you.
@feministfangirl, I have Part II of III of the Korrasami fic ready for you! Hope it’s at least as good as the first part. A little longer than the first one I suspect.
(See Part I here and Part III here)
The swearing in ceremony for President Jiang Sun had gone exceptionally well. While Korra was there as part of the ceremonies, she was also on the lookout for the last remnants of the Earth Empire army. They’d had to offer Kuvira some deals for information on who she suspected would still be running the remaining resistance from those not taken into custody, but it had led to Suyin and Lin and their groups to ruin the EE’s last attempt at preventing the new government even before the ceremonies had gotten underway.
With the plot revealed and stopped and the Beifong sisters remaining to oversee the next several days, Korra had felt comfortable leaving that night after the State Dinner and so she had.
It’s not that she didn’t want to stay and help the Earth Kingdom with the next several days—in fact she was intrigued by the whole process—it was just that she had felt so uncomfortable leaving home when she knew it was right around the anniversary of Asami’s mother’s death. She hadn’t said this to her girlfriend; otherwise, Asami would have felt wrong with Korra returning early if she could, but Korra had resolved herself to get back home as soon as she could.
It meant she got home very late that night, tired and disheveled. She didn’t even bother to unpack, just dropped her things in the coat closet just inside the mansion Asami had reclaimed after the death of her father, and headed straight for the attached garage/workspace Asami had added. She was almost always there, and Korra knew she was better suited going there to collect her girlfriend and then get them off to bed.
When Korra entered Asami’s lair, she was surprised that all the lights weren’t on. The little illumination that reached beyond the doorway was enough to let her know that her lamp light at her desk was on, which made Korra smile. Of course her girlfriend had fallen asleep at her desk again.
Korra padded tiredly into the room and headed for Asami’s office space. There was no silhouette against the light as Korra came in view of the desk; Asami wasn’t there. It wasn’t like her to leave the desk lamp on…
Making the rest of her way to the desk, Korra lifted a hand, keeping it far from the desk and its papers, and called fire to her palm. She then turned to pull the chain to click the light off. As she reached, something glinted in the firelight.
Korra closed her fingers around the flame, extinguishing it, as she turned to fully face the desk and see what had caused the glimmer. Probably a mechanical part for one of Asami’s projects… but she could have sworn the flicker was blue. As she leaned onto the desk, her eyes fell upon the piece of jewelry. It looked like… was a Northern Water Tribe engagement necklace.
Korra dropped into the chair in front of the desk, her skin suddenly flushed with warmth. She swooped the item into her palms and looked down, butterflies in her stomach. “Asami!” She whispered. Of course Korra was from the Southern Water Tribe and not the north, but her father was from the North, and ever since the end of the 100 year war, many northerners had migrated to the south and brought their traditions with them; those traditions had quickly become popular after the large dwindling of the south’s population as a result of the war.
It took her eyes a moment to work out the shape of the design on the pendant and then grinned without even meaning to. It was clearly some heavily water tribed version of Raava.
It was then that Korra’s eyes found the papers under the treasure. Page after page of sketches of a Northern Water Tribe engagement necklace were strewn all across the length of it. Each one was tweaked differently, but she found it particularly interesting that in all of them, Raava’s form was more obvious. Looking back at the piece, Korra smiled. Raava didn’t have a particularly water tribe look to her; it made sense that the artist, not knowing what Asami was going for, had come up with design they had.
Korra frowned then. Asami had then clearly gown to a water tribe artisan, but the quality of the piece wasn’t nearly on par with some of Asami’s finer jewelry. Korra frowned for a moment, thinking, and then it clicked. Because of all the sketches, she had assumed Asami had been working on it long enough to be done, but she wasn’t. This was what she liked to refer to as a prototype. Not only was Korra not supposed to have seen this, but she was seeing it much, much earlier than Asami ever intended.
Exhaustion finally catching up with her, Korra leaned over and rested her head on one arm. She used the other hand to hold the necklace in front of her so she could take it all in.
Marriage.
What would it be like to marry Asami? Their lives wouldn’t change much… They lived together, were seen together, worked well together. It would be a nice statement of commitment…
Of course, it would need to be in Republic City! Except… there was almost no way the avatar and the CEO of Sato Industries to wed in Republic City without it being nearly as huge a ceremony as the one she’d just left. She… didn’t want that. She wanted something low key and intimate. She’d want a little more… quiet… to take in making Asami her wife—becoming Asami’s wife… instead of playing the politician.
Asami would be happy to marry at the South Pole. Korra could wear traditional garb of the water tribe more comfortably in that climate, and she closed her eyes, imagining what sort of garment Asami would put together. She’d make an effort to keep it in line with Southern Water Tribe traditions—just like she had with the engagement piece—but she’d have her own, modernly stylish flair to the piece that would blow Korra away.
Although Korra pictured it fondly—Katara performing? Her father and chief presiding over the reception, her mother at his side… it still didn’t feel right. She and Asami had met in Republic City, cultivated a life together here, made friends and had so many special moments here. But the politics! If only there was someplace neutral, someplace people wouldn’t expect…
Air Temple Island. They could marry there. That had come to be seen less as a part of Republic City and more like some sort of embassy for the Air Nomads. That sounded political, but given the nature of the Air Nomads, they were distinctly neutral.
Yes, she could see it. She felt her body relaxe as she saw them on some isthmus of earth, surrounded by water, a fire nearby, wind swirling around them as she and Asami looked at each other, while Tenzin stood before them to join them in harmony and grace. Mako would attend to Korra and Bolin to Asami. There’d be room for the others—her parents, Lin and Suyin, Pema and the children and all the others.
They would all look dashing,
but no one more so than Asami and herself. They would glow.
There would be so much happiness.
So much Celebration…
An ache in Korra’s arm and a faint smell of orchids pulled her up from sleep. She opened her eyes and looked up to see the necklace, still resting in her palm. Warmth bloomed anew through her. It hadn’t just been a dream!
Nearly popping out of her seat, Korra looked around. Sunlight poured through the high windows of the fancy garage. Rolling her should to work out the stiffness, she used her metal bending this time to click the lamp at the desk off.
Filled with excitement, Korra headed to her and Asami’s room. She simply had to see her! Discuss with her the dreams she’d had that night—about beautiful weddings at sunset on the cliffs of Air Temple Island. But as she reached their shared space, the bed was empty. Korra stopped abruptly, that extra warmth draining away from her. Asami wasn’t here. And she hadn’t been in her lair. The shower wasn’t running. These were the places she would usually be at, this time of day when she didn’t have work. She didn’t usually have work right about now.
Although who was Korra to say? Asami didn’t know Korra had been here at all! This meant Korra had options. Asami was going to surprise her, and Korra would have been flummoxed! Although she had reached such a companionship with the woman over their time together, marriage just hadn’t occurred to her. Oh sure, wistfully she’d think about it from time to time, but it just didn’t occur to her to do it soon.
Korra paced the room a little then, mulling it over. It made sense, when she saw the engagement necklace, that of course they would marry now, but was there a reason she hadn’t considered it before? Was she afraid of taking that step? Did she feel like there was a chance Asami wasn’t right for her?
Korra shook her head, causing her growing hair to fall in her face a little. She pushed it back. No. It just simply hadn’t occurred to her. She had been happy and content, so she hadn’t looked beyond that between everything that kept her life busy. Clearly Asami had.
“Well, that’s settled!” She said to herself. She then headed for their balcony. She needed to leave without risking seeing Asami. It would be a better surprise if the woman had yet to realize she was home. Grinning, Korra airbended over the side of the balcony to the ground below and headed for the city. She needed to find jeweler herself.
Going through your blog, because I have been tumblr absent! I always want more of your writing, so Sanctuary and number one of the prompts? Please!
Than you for the prompt :D Here you go:
1. “Care to explain why my bathtub is full of frogs?” (Sanctuary)
“Careto explain why my bathtub is full of frogs?”
Helenlooked from Henry's sheepish face to Nikola's completely unrepentantone and a strange sense of deja vu stole over her.
“Well,anyone?”
Henryrubbed a hand over the back of his neck, his other hand clutching athis tablet computer like it was a life preserver. It was a nervousgesture she remembered from as far back as when he was barely tallenough to reach door handles and carried around his blanket insteadof a computer.
Nikola,on the other hand, was just smirking and, uncharacteristically, nottalking. When was the last time he'd been silent this long,Helen wondered.
“They'reabnormal frogs!”, Henry finally sputtered when he couldn't take thesilence any longer. “They're...we...well, they're called AnuraHerketis...they do, well...”
Henryjust wiggled his hand to indicate the equally wiggly mass in herbathtub.
Helenwatched them for a moment, her brain quite unable to pick out whatthe individual frogs were doing. All she saw was a brown-green massof sluggish movement.
“I'msorry, Henry, but I fail to see how they are doing anythingnon-abnormal frogs wouldn't do.”
Henryopened and closed his mouth a few times, clearly trying and failingto string together a coherent sentence, a blush starting to spreadover his cheeks.
Finallyhe turned with a frustrated Dude! towardsTesla and waved his hands about again, clearly urging him to join theconversation.
Helenlifted an eyebrow and looked questioningly at her old friend.
“Careto help Henry out, Nikola?”
Hetilted his head to the side as if considering it.
“Oh,actually I was enjoying watching Wolfgang falling over his own wordsquite a lot. Maybe we should give him another chance?”
“Dude!”
“Ormaybe not, he seems to be stuck on single word sentences now.”
Helenrolled her eyes and admired Henry's self control because he clearlylooked like he wanted to punch Tesla.
“Outwith it, Nikola.”
“Oh,so we are back to assuming everything is my fault? And here I wasjust trying to help out Heinrich with his little amphibian problem.Why would I put frogsin your bathtub?”
Helooked decidedly disgusted at the prospect and Helen rubbed herforehead in frustration for a second.
“Fine,I don't care who put them in there, I just want to know why.”
“BecauseI found them, on the surface. I was doing a supply run for computerparts, you know, because I still need to fix the cameras Dr. Vampiroblew out when he overloaded the circuit last week, which really heshould be doing himself...”
Helenlooked at him fondly and mildly said: “Henry, you're rambling. Thefrogs?”
“Yes,sorry Doc, the frogs...well, they were so close to the road and Iknew they were abnormals, they didn't smell right for normal frogs,you see, and I didn't want them to get run over so I kind of put themin a box and brought them here”, Henry finished, talking so fastthe words nearly blurred together.
BothHelen and Henry wisely ignored Nikola's sarcastic “Do you always goabout smelling frogs, Wolfboy?”
AfterHelen had finally worked through Henry's recital she threw anotherglance at the bathtub.
“Wait,you put all of these into a box and brought them here?”
Agrin spread over Nikola's face.
“Ah,she's finally catching on. You see, Helen, you have been asking thewrong questions. The one you should be asking is How manyfrogs are there.”
Helenthrew up her hands in frustration.
“Enoughwith the riddles already. Nikola, explain, with as few words aspossible, what is going on here!”
“Well,it's a form of protection, you see, an illusion, that the frogs canproject into minds of any animal that might happen to discover themin flagranti delicto.They can't get eaten if the predator doesn't know which ones are thereal frogs. We're just waiting for them to, well, finish, so Henrycan put them in separate cages.”
Helenlooked at him for a moment, trying to gauge whether he was tellingthe truth or pulling her leg, but the blush spreading farther onHenry's face convinced her that Nikola might actually be telling thetruth.
“Thereare abnormal frogs having sex in my bathtub? And here I thought I'dseen it all...”
Nikola'sgrin got even wider and he wiggled his eyebrows at her. She shot himan exasperated look before turning back to Henry, who was acting likea teenager when their parents were flirting a bit tooenthusiastically in front of them.
“Henry,could you please find a suitable habitat for the frogs once theyhave...once they stop projecting illusions, and please make sure thatwe do not get a repeat of the Nubbin situation.”
“Yes,boss, of course, right away...”
Stabbingaway at his tablet furiously Henry still didn't quite meet her eyes.
“Comeon, Nikola, I am sure Henry has this well in hand and would rather bewithout an unnecessary audience, or comments.”
TakingNikola's arm she pulled him from the room, hoping to save Henry frommore embarrassment.
“Iguess this is a new definition of safer sex...”, Tesla said as thedoor closed behind them.
“Ohwill you shut up?”, she groaned, mentally preparing herself fordecades of references about this situation, especially in Henry'spresence.
“What? I’m sorry?” Hermann turned sideways as far as his sore body would allow and cocked an eyebrow in Newton’s direction.
“I said, handsome, what’ya in here for?”
“I beg your pardon, that is none of your business.”
“Fine, be a fuddy duddy.”
“I see no reason to make small talk in a place such as this.” Hermann looked over at the scruffy man. He was dressed like a 20-year-old but clearly over 30. He was handsome, not particularly tall of stature, and holding some sort of make-shift cold pack to an unknown injury.
“Newton Geiszler?” a nurse called from the doorway after consulting his clipboard.
“On my way,” Newt said, getting up cautiously, and then adding to Hermann, “I hope you’re still here when I get back, handsome.”
Hermann scrutinized him and did not respond. He sniffed and hunched his shoulders in an effort to stay warm even though he was wearing a green parka and a scarf. Several minutes passed and he fought the urge to fall asleep.
“Hermann Gottlieb?”
“Here,” he said, raising his hand and getting up with considerable strain, putting most of his weight on his cane. After a brief check-up he discovered he had a sinus infection and was given a good old fashioned dose of amoxicillin. He limped his way down the hall and back into the waiting room, thinking of nothing but his warm bed.
“Hey!” Newton called as he ran after Hermann.
“Oh you again.”
“Yup. Me again. Look, do you have a way to get home?”
“Yes, I drove myself here.”
“Dude, you don’t look well.”
“How astute of you. I can’t imagine I would be here if I felt well.”
“Well, I think I should drive you home.”
Hermann stopped and looked at the shorter man up and down. “Why should I trust you.”
“Cause I may have a chemical burn that missed my tattoo sleeve by a centimeter and I have been given some pain meds, but I’m much more alert and able to drive than you.”
“I suppose you do have a point. I am beginning to get rather sleepy.”
“Sweet! Let’s go.”
“You may drive my vehicle on the one condition that you do not exceed the speed limit.”
“That’s fair. I agree to the terms and conditions.”
Once they had gotten into the car, Hermann felt the strong urge to drift off. Halfway to his flat he woke with a start and said “Mr. Geiszler, your car!”
“Oh, I can pick it up later.”
“Ah, alright,” Hermann said, drifting off again.
They pulled up in front of Hermann’s building but Newt didn’t want to wake the lovely man next to him just yet. He gently brushed the man’s hair off his brow. Unable to resist the urge, he stroked his brown hair.
“That’s nice,” Hermann mumbled in his sleep.
“Maybe it’s the pain meds,” Newt said to himself, “but I think I’m in love.”
The house is locked as tight as a family fresh from grief and a tenuous grasp of hope can manage. Boards cross the windows and front door, the curtains drawn to keep out the light, keep away the interested traveler.
Not that they’d get close to the gate without being warned away. The place is a funeral home waiting for a body. The place is a sanctuary; hallowed ground waiting for a miracle.
He looks down at the pale face and blonde hair of an angel. An angel who’d cracked open his chest like a walnut and gently rested hope into its cavity.
It hurt, looking at her, sharpened the acute ache.
They’d wiped away the blood, piled blankets to keep her warm. As if it might help. But, he mused, it just might. Anything might. Anything was better than nothing.
Sitting around waiting for a miracle wasn’t going to do her any good: it was up to her, now. Her, and maybe a little bit of help, if he - if they - could get it to her. So he’s doing the only thing he can, what he’s good at, what he wouldn’t trust to anyone else.
“C’mon,” called Maggie from the doorway. Hope tightened her voice and shoulders. She was waiting there, with Glenn and Tyreese. “Siphoned enough gas, we’re ready.”
“We’ve got this, brother,” said Rick from behind him. He felt himself nod. But he stood looking down at her, the dark purple shadows like bruises beneath her large eyes and lips so pale they barely held any color at all, like the softest shade of rose in winter. The greatest sin, the mark of bullet that even now might still take her from them. From him.
He’d carried her so far, already grieved her for miles as he’d held her in his arms like the dead-weight they’d all thought her to be. He couldn’t let her go. Not when he’d finally found her. Lost her.
Not until he’d bent to rest his forehead to hers and felt the first shiver of horror at the smallest of sounds and thought she’d turned. Not until the impossible turning of his tear-rusted clockwork mind as he registered the faintest copper-scented air escaping her lungs.
And drawn back in.
He looked up, Rick’s eyes an echo of recognition. He knew: he’d carried Rick’s family through losing Lori and helped Judith, still sitting quietly with Carl in the next room, when Rick couldn’t be there; now Rick would take care of her until her family returned.
If it were anyone else, the burly redhead or his people, the coward-priest who dared to pray for her like she was some sinner, he wouldn’t be leaving.
But Rick was his brother.
And Carol, despite her injuries, was recovering. She’d been a silent presence since it happened, watching over them both when they’d found this place and holed up to wait on the final moment, whichever it was. She hadn’t said anything, but the look on her face reminded him of a moment they’d shared while he’d looked for Sophia, like this was her turn to care for them both. Or something like that. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to say how grateful he was for it.
He didn’t brush the stray gold from her forehead. Didn’t bend down and kiss her pale petal lips. Didn’t whisper to her the promise of his return.
But he wanted to.
He gave Rick a silent look and muttered, “We’ll make it fast.” He shouldered his crossbow and an empty bag and followed Maggie out the door.
He’d be damned before he let this angel - his angel - return to Heaven without a fight.
