Chapter Eleven: I Wish I Didn’t Feel Like A Burden All The Time
Summary: It’s your birthday, but The Pitt doesn’t slow down for that. Between subway accidents, drownings, shootings, and the quiet heartbreak of patients who come back again and again, you do your best to keep your hands steady and your head clear. Somewhere in the blur of alarms and blood, you realize you’re holding onto something you shouldn’t—feelings for your quietly grieving chief attending. At The Pitt, you don’t just learn how to save lives.
You learn how hard it is to ignore your own heart.
Pairing: Dr. Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x FilipinaNurseFem!Reader
Warnings: 18+ Unrequited Love, Second-Chance, ANGST, Friends-to-Lovers, Slow Burn Romance, She falls first, but He falls harder, Yearning, Delayed Hurt to Comfort, Depression, PTSD, Flashbacks, Medical Inaccuracies, Suicidal Ideation, Anxiety, Age-Gap (Robby is in his 50s, what did you think?), Insecurities, Longing, PittFest, Blood, Needles, Death of a patient, Reader has a nickname (Ducky), Gossip, Passive Aggressiveness, Sassy!Robby, Sad!Robby, Dark Humor, Jokes about unaliving (its unserious I swear), Medicated!Reader, Hospitals, EMTs, Lots of medical jargon, Miscommunication, Flirting, Slight Jealousy, Teasing, Awkward Flirting, Scratching, Grief, Crying, Reader has Allergies, Avoidance Final Boss, Crash Out in the Gender Neutral Bathroom, Mentions Mass Shooting,
Word Count: 6.2k
A/N: My mental illness knows no bounds 😀 Rough chapter incoming… chin up girl, you got this.
Side note: Gif in the moodboard from @/preacherboyd. I’m not a doctor or a nurse. I’m dyslexic, and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!
Songs: Wishes by Tiny Habits, Nothing Can by NIKI, and This is what the drugs are for by Gracie Abrams
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5:00 P.M.
PTMC, EMERGENCY DEPARTMENT — DAY
The ER is loud in that particular five-o’clock way—shift change creeping closer, monitors chiming in uneven harmony, the trauma bay doors sighing open and shut.
Robby stands at Central, scanning the department for you.
You’re not by the board. Not at the computers. Not hovering outside a room with your arms folded the way you do when you’re thinking.
Your phone is still in his cargo pants pocket. He slides his hand over it briefly, as if checking a pulse. He should have given it back. He should have run after you. He should have apologized. The fact that he hasn’t sits heavily in his chest.
Myrna appears at his shoulder, sing-song and relentless.
“Not now, Myrna,” he says without looking at her.
“Aw.”
Dana hangs up the desk phone just as he approaches. “Woman in labor. Ten minutes out.”
He blinks. “What are you still doing here?”
“I have one hour left on my shift. If I get home before 6:00, Benji will know something’s up.”
Robby leans across the counter, studying her face. The swelling under her left eye has deepened into a bruised violet. “Pretty sure the black eye is going to give you away.”
Dana exhales. “Well, sadly, it’s not the first time I’ve gone home with a war wound from a patient.”
“Hey, Doc,” Earl calls from near the wall. “You got a sandwich?”
Robby rubs his forehead. “Uh, you know what, Earl? I can do you one better. I’m going to order Tagari’s pizza. I think we could all use a morale boost around here.”
“No sandwich?”
“You could fold it in half, New York style, just like a sandwich.”
“Better not be pineapple…”
“No pineapple, I promise. Not this time, okay? We good?”
Earl nods, appeased.
Robby turns back to Dana, voice lowering. “I say this with all the love and respect in my heart. I honestly do. Get the hell out of here.”
“You need me. The CT came back normal. Nasal bone just has a hairline fracture. I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. I don’t like it.”
“You sound like me,” he says quietly. “That’s not a good thing.”
“Just let me finish my day.”
He hesitates, then nods once. “Okay. I’m not going to argue with you.”
“Yeah, all that knowledge and still learning. It really is impressive.”
“Yes. Well,” he sighs, “can you at least keep a cold pack on it?”
“No promises.”
He shifts his weight, restless. His eyes flick once more across the department, looking for you without meaning to.
“I’ve had so much coffee, I’ve got to pee again. Walk with me… I also need to fill you in on some things.”
They step away from Central, the noise dimming slightly in the corridor.
“Have you seen Ducky?” Robby asks.
“Wasn’t she with you a minute ago?” Dana asks.
He swallows. “I fucked up.”
Dana stops walking when they make it just outside the men’s bathroom door. “What the hell did you do?”
Robby lowers his voice. “Did you know she was on SSRI’s?”
Dana’s expression hardens instantly. She leans closer, whispering sharply. “Yes, that’s because she felt safe enough to tell me in case it would affect her ability to provide proper patient care. What the fuck did you say to her, Robby?”
“Fuck. Fuck.” He shakes his head, hands dragging through his thinning hair. He looks wrecked—like a man who just realized he pulled the wrong thread and unraveled something fragile. “I accused her of stealing meds from the ER.”
“What the fuck, Robinavitch?” she hisses.
“I—”
“What even made you think she was doing such a fucking thing?”
There it is—the protective edge. Not just an administrator or a colleague. She’s full-on mother bear mode.
Robby’s jaw tightens. He gives her a look that says this is bigger than Ducky.
Dana narrows her eyes. “What?”
“So Langdon is gone.”
“Gone? Where?”
“Home. I will handle his caseload. It won’t fall on anybody else. And Dr. Ellis usually comes in early.”
“I get punched in the face, and he goes home early?”
“Nope. It’s not like that. Trust me. You do not want to be Langdon right now.” He exhales through his nose. “And I need a favor. I need you to run a pharmacy audit on Langdon for the last three days. I need a list of all the patients he’s treated and all the medications he’s prescribed.”
Controlled substances and narcotics. The kind of list that triggers compliance reviews and quiet HR meetings.
Dana studies him. “Do I want to know why?”
“No, you do not.” He pauses, searching her face. “You sure you’re still good to stay?”
She lets out a long breath. “Yeah. Are you?”
He doesn’t answer right away.
Across the department, a fetal monitor cart is being wheeled into triage in preparation for the laboring patient—ten minutes out, contractions likely under three minutes apart if EMS called ahead. Another life is about to crash into this messy world.
“Honestly,” he says finally, voice thin, “I’m beginning to have my doubts.”
Dana tilts her head. “Yeah, you feel like God’s trying to tell you something?”
Robby stares down the hallway—the one that leads back toward Central. Toward the place you should be standing.
“We stopped talking a long time ago.”
He doesn’t clarify whether he means God.
Or you.
GENDER NEUTRAL BATHROOM — DAY
The lights hum overhead, too bright, too unforgiving. The tile is hospital-white and mercilessly clean. The air smells like disinfectant and industrial soap.
You grip the edge of the toilet as your stomach empties itself in sharp, humiliating waves. Acid burns the back of your throat. Your eyes water. Your ribs ache with the force of it.
You flush. Breathe. Try again.
There’s nothing left, but your body doesn’t believe you. It keeps trying anyway.
When it’s over, you stay there—knees pressed into tile, forehead resting against the cool porcelain. Your pulse is everywhere. In your throat. In your ears. Behind your eyes.
There is no one knocking on the door. No one calling your name.
Of course, there isn’t.
You’re the one people call.
You swallow hard and sit back against the tiled wall. It’s cool to the touch. Your scrubs feel too tight. Your skin feels too small.
It’s just you.
It’s always just you.
You drag your heels. Don’t draw a line. Don’t make it bigger than it is.
Be strong.
Your heart keeps racing like you’re running from something that isn’t even here.
You squeeze your eyes shut.
You are not dying.
You are not dying.
You are not dying.
It just feels like it.
Your mind swings—pendulum-fast—between humiliation and anger and something dangerously close to laughter. Because, of course, this would happen now. Of course it would.
You almost laugh.
It bubbles up, sharp and unhinged.
Instead, your eyes burn.
You don’t cry.
You refuse to cry anymore.
There’s no one coming to steady your breathing. No one pressing a grounding hand to your back. No one is whispering that it’s okay.
No one and nothing can save you, and maybe that’s the point.
Because you will walk back out there, pick up a chart, smile at a stranger, and explain lab results in a calm, measured voice.
You will still text about weekend plans. Still pretend you’re deciding between Thai or Italian. Still say, “I’m good.”
You press your fingertips against the inside of your wrist and count your pulse.
Fast, but steady, so you breathe again. Slower this time.
Four in.
Hold.
Six out.
The dizziness begins to recede, like a tide reluctantly pulling back from shore. You reach up and flush again, just in case anyone heard.
You stand carefully. Your knees protest. You place a flat palm on the wall until the room stops tilting.
At the sink, you turn the water on full cold and let it run over your wrists. The shock of it grounds you. You cup some in your hands and press it to the back of your neck.
Your reflection stares back at you from the mirror.
Your eyes are red, and your mascara is smudged.
You look… human.
You grab a paper towel and blot under your eyes with clinical precision, like you’re cleaning a wound. Controlled and methodical.
You rinse your mouth. Spit. Rinse again.
You straighten your scrub top. Smooth your hair back. Roll your shoulders once, twice, like you’re resetting a dislocated joint.
You lean both hands on the sink and meet your own gaze. You’re still swinging, and you’re still here.
The monitor alarms and overhead pages bleed faintly through the door. Life continuing.
You unlock the door, and you step back into the noise like nothing ever happened.
CENTRAL WORK AREA — DAY
The automatic bathroom door closes behind you with a soft hydraulic sigh.
Central is exactly as you left it—monitors chiming, printers spitting out discharge paperwork, the tracking board blinking with names that don’t care how your chest still feels tight.
You adjust your shoulders back into place and walk in like nothing happened.
Perlah and Princess are huddled at one of the workstations, whispering with the intensity of people discussing national security instead of ER gossip. Santos is just behind them, typing steadily, posture perfect, focused on her charting.
You drift toward them casually. Then you stay, just slightly behind. Close enough to blend in.
Princess leans in, voice barely above a breath. “Di ko siya nakita na nagalit na galit.” (I’ve never seen Robby that mad.)
Perlah’s eyebrows shoot up. “Mas grabe doon sa napatay na squirrel?” (Worse than the dead squirrel?)
Princess shakes her head. “Ay sobra! At least yun nakakatawa, ito hindi eh.” (Way worse. That ended up being funny. This was not funny.)
Your stomach tightens again—but this time it isn’t panic. It’s him.
Across Central, Robby stands with his phone pressed to his ear. His jaw is tight, posture rigid. He says something quietly into the receiver, listening hard.
Then his eyes lift.
They find you.
It’s brief—but it lands like a pulse under your skin.
His gaze shifts from you to Santos. Assessing and calculating.
Perlah mutters under her breath, “Sigurado alam niya pinaguusapan siya.” (He’s looking at us. He definitely knows we’re talking about him.)
She flashes an exaggerated peace sign. Princess gives an overly sweet smile and a tiny wave.
Robby, confused, glances behind him as if trying to locate whoever they’re greeting. Finding no one, he awkwardly waves back.
You almost smile.
Almost.
He turns away and finishes the call. “Okay. Thank you very much.”
He slips the phone into his pocket and walks toward your cluster, stopping deliberately between Princess and Santos.
“Can I have a word?”
Princess stiffens. “With us?”
Robby’s eyes flicker—just for a second—past Perlah’s shoulder.
To you.
You’re not as good at hiding as you think you are. Your eyes are still faintly red. Your skin slightly washed out. You’re making yourself smaller without realizing it—arms tucked close, shoulders slightly rounded.
He sees it.
And something in his face softens before he schools it.
“With Dr. Santos.”
Santos finishes typing the last few lines of her note. The rhythmic clack of the keyboard stops. “Sure. Let me just wrap this up.”
“Okay,” Robby says.
He doesn’t look at you again.
But he wants to.
You feel it like a phantom touch.
Santos stands and smooths her coat. “O sya. Kita tayo mamaya ha.” (See you later, ladies.)
Perlah smacks Princess’ arm. “I told you she was Filipina.”
Princess giggles. “Sobraing mistisa noh!” (But she’s so white!)
They both turn—
And freeze.
Because you’ve been standing there the entire time.
Silent.
“Uy, okay ka lang ba? You look pale.” (Hey, are you okay?) Princess immediately grabs your arms, thumbs pressing into your sleeves like she’s checking perfusion.
Perlah crowds in, eyes scanning your face with frightening efficiency. “Did something happen? Did someone hurt you again? Who was it? Did someone say something?”
The concern is loud, warm, and immediate.
Your throat tightens.
You did not budget for kindness.
You inhale too quickly and have to steady it before it turns into something else.
“I’m fine.” Your voice almost betrays you, but you force it steady. “Just needed a good cry in the bathroom. That’s all.”
You shrug lightly, waving it off as if tears are routine maintenance.
Perlah narrows her eyes. She doesn’t believe you. Not entirely.
Princess squeezes your arms once more before letting go.
You let out a slow breath. “I’ll be fine. One more hour left with this shift, and then I would like to curl into a ball in my bed and sleep.”
It comes out half-joke, half-confession.
Across Central, Robby is speaking quietly with Santos now. His body is angled toward her, but his attention keeps drifting.
Back to you.
You don’t look at him.
If you do, you might not swing back.
And you have exactly one more hour left.
CENTRAL WORK AREA — DAY
The tracking board glows an unforgiving red at the top of the screen.
Perlah squints at it. “We’re 20 behind in triage.”
Twenty names. Twenty waiting rooms full of crossed arms, worsening pain, rising blood pressures, chest tightness that might be anxiety—or might not.
Dana and Mateo lean against the workstation desk. Dana holds her iPad in one hand, Apple Pencil tucked between her fingers like a conductor’s baton.
“Mateo,” she says evenly, “treat ’em and street ’em. See how many you can dispo.”
Fast but safe. Rule out the dangerous things first. Chest pain gets an EKG within ten minutes. Abdominal pain gets labs. Ankle sprain with negative Ottawa rules? Wrap, discharge, next.
Mateo nods once and heads toward Chairs.
Santos approaches, adjusting the stethoscope around her neck. “I hear we’re down a senior resident. How can I help?”
Perlah glances sideways. “Oh, yeah? What senior?”
“Langdon had to go home early to deal with something,” Dana replies without missing a beat. “Robby’s covering. You can follow Mateo to Chairs. That’s where we could really use you.”
Princess, Perlah, and you exchange a silent look.
Santos smiles, rolling her shoulders back. “Chairs is about to be my bitch.”
Perlah leans forward conspiratorially. “So, D… is… is this all about the fight?”
Dana’s eyes lift. “What fight?”
Princess straightens. “Robby and Langdon got into it at the lockers. Shit was flying. Literal shit.”
Whitaker and Samira hover nearby, pretending not to listen and absolutely listening.
Dana fixes Princess and Perlah with a look sharp enough to suture with. “That’s enough from you two. Not another word.”
Perlah leans over the back of her chair anyway. “Ay nako sasabog dito.” (Shit’s gonna explode.)
Dana doesn’t understand the Tagalog, but she understands tone. “Keep it up! You’ll both be working the holidays!”
That shuts them up.
Then Dana’s eyes shift.
To you.
She really looks.
The puffiness around your eyelids. The way your shoulders fold inward. The careful neutrality pasted over your face like gauze over a wound.
Her voice softens instantly. “Come on, Ducky, let’s take a walk. Yeah?”
Princess whispers to Perlah, “Sabi ko sayo eh.” (I told you so.)
Perlah nods. “Nako oo.” (You may be right.)
You follow Dana toward the stairwell. Each step feels heavier than it should. You already know what this is.
The stairwell door closes behind you, muting the sounds of the ER into a distant mechanical hum.
It’s quieter here. Cooler.
Dana turns to you.
Her eyes are gentle. The kind she uses when one of her kids has scraped a knee and insists they’re fine.
“Are you okay?”
And just like that—
You break.
The first sob escapes before you can stop it. It folds you in half, small and embarrassed and painfully human.
Dana doesn’t hesitate. She steps forward and pulls you into her.
You cry into her shoulder, fists clenching into the fabric of her scrubs. It’s not pretty. It’s not controlled. It’s the kind of crying that leaves your chest sore.
“Robby told me,” Dana murmurs into your hair. “And I swear to God, I was gonna kill him then and there.”
A weak, watery laugh escapes you.
You pull back just enough to look at her, tears tracking down your face. “I would never, Dana. Never.” Your voice trembles. “That is a federal offense and I could be deported. They would send me home, Dana.”
The fear in your voice is real.
“I know. I know.” She cups your face firmly, steadying you. “I know you would never, and you didn’t do it.”
You nod, crying harder now because she believes you.
Because she doesn’t hesitate.
“Does he still have my phone?” you ask through a shaky breath.
“Yeah, hon. I can get it for you when I see him.”
“Thank you.” You swipe under your eyes uselessly. “I’ll be getting a FaceTime call from my sister and friends after shift.”
“The birthday call?”
You nod. “Yeah. It’s stupid.”
Dana pulls back just enough to look offended on your behalf. “No, it’s not. I’m sorry this hasn’t been a good birthday for you.”
You shrug, attempting indifference and failing. “It’s whatever.”
But it’s not, it’s your birthday.
And you’re in a stairwell crying because the man you—No.
You inhale sharply and force it down.
Dana smooths your hair back like you’re ten and lost in a mall instead of a nurse in an ER.
“Listen to me,” she says softly. “You’ve already overcome battles that were challenging. I have faith you’ll conquer this one, too. You are one of the best people in that department. You hear me? This doesn’t get to take that from you.”
You nod again.
Outside the stairwell, a code alarm blips faintly.
Life goes on.
Dana squeezes your shoulders once more. “Okay. We’re going to wipe your face. We’re going to fix your scrubs. And then we’re going back out there.”
You let out a trembling breath.
Because you will.
You always do.
TRAUMA ONE — DAY
The doors burst open as you and Jesse steer the ICU boarder from Central 6 into Trauma One. The stretcher rattles over the threshold.
“ICU boarder, 48-year-old cirrhotic, here for hematemesis,” you say quickly as McKay rushes in, already gloving up.
The patient’s gown is soaked through at the collar. Dark red stains the sheets. The metallic smell of blood fills the room.
Perlah moves alongside you, adjusting the monitor leads as she speaks. “Intubated overnight and after one unit pRBCs and FFP was supposedly stable.”
“Not anymore,” McKay says, fingers pressing into the side of the patient’s neck. “Weak carotid. Javadi? I need you on suction.”
The monitor shrieks—sinus tachycardia, heart rate climbing. Oxygen saturation flickering in the low 90s despite the tube.
At the doorway stands Lucy, Murphy Rottenstein’s daughter, both hands clasped at her chest.
“W-why is she bleeding all of a sudden?” she asks, voice trembling.
McKay glances briefly toward her while scanning the standing workstation. “Most likely, bleeding is from the esophageal varices. With cirrhosis, you get enlarged veins under pressure at the entry of the stomach. Varicose veins, and they can burst.”
Lucy stares. “What does that mean?”
McKay softens just a fraction. “The cirrhosis from hepatitis B caused a vein to burst where the esophagus meets the stomach, and that’s where the blood is coming from.”
Portal hypertension. Backed-up blood flow through scarred liver tissue. Fragile veins ballooned thin as paper.
You glance at the monitor. The numbers are unforgiving. “BP’s only 82 over 46.”
Hypotensive. Hemorrhagic shock.
Lucy presses a fist to her mouth, whispering, “Hey, Mom, you’re going to be okay,” as if the words might anchor her mother back to shore.
McKay doesn’t waste another second. “Rapid infuser, massive transfusion protocol, octreotide bolus and drip, 80 pantoprazole and ceftriaxone.”
Octreotide to constrict the splanchnic circulation. Pantoprazole for acid suppression. Ceftriaxone prophylactically—cirrhotics bleed and get infected easily.
“Perlah, get Robby in here.”
Perlah nods and shoulders through the door, gloves still on, pushing it open with her hip.
The room feels smaller by the second.
Blood pools in the suction canister, dark and thick.
Two minutes later, Perlah reappears. “He said set up.”
You reposition at the head of the bed, hands steady despite the tremor that still lingers under your skin from earlier. You squeeze the ambu bag rhythmically, watching chest rise.
From Trauma Two, a newborn’s cry pierces the air.
Life entering the world just feet away from where another might be leaving it.
The contrast makes your chest tighten.
Robby steps through the sliding side door, already pulling gloves on. His presence shifts the energy—controlled, decisive.
McKay doesn’t look up. “Hemorrhagic shock from varices. Failed medical therapy.”
“Suction stopped working,” Javadi says.
You’re still bagging when Robby glances over. “Because your canister is full.”
“I'm on it,” Jesse says, moving fast to switch it out.
Lucy gasps. “Oh, my God.”
“Someone please take her out,” Robby says firmly.
A nurse gently guides Lucy away.
“Mom!” Lucy cries as the curtain closes.
“Thank you very much,” Robby mutters under his breath. “By the way, that is not how you raise patient-satisfaction scores.” He turns back immediately. “Okay, Dr. McKay, do you want to explain to Javadi here all about the Minnesota?”
The Minnesota tube.
McKay nods. “Yeah. So best way to stop the bleeding is direct pressure. First balloon goes in the stomach as an anchor. Second runs the length of the esophagus for direct pressure on the varices.”
Robby adds, “First, we want to inflate the balloon under water like a bicycle inner tube to check for any air leaks.”
“Yeah,” Javadi answers, focused.
“Javadi, stopcock in the ports,” McKay instructs.
“Use the 50-cc syringe,” Robby says.
“Suction’s good and running,” Jesse calls.
“I got it,” Perlah says, taking over suctioning, clearing the airway so the field isn’t flooded with blood.
You keep bagging. Slow. Controlled. Watching end-tidal CO₂.
Dana steps in briefly, laying a warmed blanket over the patient’s legs. “Here you go, hon.”
Then she leans toward Robby. “Langdon called the main line.”
“You got to be kidding me,” Robby mutters.
“Princess answered. Told him you were busy. Just wanted you to know.”
“Okay, noted. Thank you.”
Dana’s gaze shifts to you. “You good here, Ducky?”
For a split second, you glance at Robby.
He’s already looking at you. Concern, regret, and something heavier.
You look away first.
You nod.
Dana studies you one beat longer, then exits.
“Can you see anything?” Javadi asks.
“I don’t have to,” McKay replies.
“You just have to push the tongue out of the way in order to pass the tube,” Robby says calmly.
“Okay. Here we go.”
You flick your eyes to the monitor again. “Heart rate’s 124. BP’s still only 84 over 42.”
“Bleeding is still brisk,” Javadi says.
“Get another unit on that infuser, please,” Robby orders. “How far did you go?”
“50 centimeters. Dr. Robby?”
“Did you say 50 centimeters? Yes, that’s plenty. Inflate the gastric balloon. Start with 50, and then we’ll check the placement in the stomach with an X-ray.”
You watch as the syringe depresses, inflating the gastric balloon to anchor it against the gastroesophageal junction. Across the bed, Robby’s eyes lift once more. Not long enough for anyone else to notice. But long enough for you to feel it.
The portable X-ray machine hums as the tech steps back. The image flashes onto the monitor.
McKay squints at it. “Why is Dana still here?”
Robby shakes his head, eyes fixed on the film. “She refuses to leave.” He steps closer and points at the screen. “That’s perfect placement. She wants to finish her shift.”
The Minnesota tube coils down the esophagus, the gastric balloon sitting exactly where it should—below the diaphragm, anchored in the stomach.
McKay exhales through her nose and turns back to the bed. “Of course she does. I’ve never met a charge nurse who wasn’t a stubborn bitch.”
You and Perlah look up at the same time.
“McKay.”
She raises both hands immediately. “In an adorable way, of course.”
Robby’s mouth twitches faintly. “I honestly don’t know what we’d do without her.”
You don’t miss the sincerity in that.
At the head of the bed, Javadi swallows hard. “The mouth is filling up again. It’s like a fountain.”
You step in automatically, suction in hand, clearing the pooling blood before it spills past the tube. The sound is wet, mechanical, relentless.
The heart rate on the monitor remains in the 120s. Blood pressure still hovering in the 80s systolic. The rapid infuser hums as another unit of packed red blood cells pushes through the line.
Donnie appears at the side sliding door, breathless from Trauma Two. “Dr. Robby, we need you in Trauma Two.”
Robby doesn’t look away from the patient. “Yeah, okay, I’ll be right there. She’s still bleeding higher up in the esophagus.”
“We got it,” McKay says firmly. Then she looks at you. “Ducky?”
“Yeah,” you answer, already bracing.
“She’s not bleeding in her stomach. We have to inflate the second balloon up in the esophagus.”
You nod once. Your gloves are slick. Your pulse is steady now—not calm, exactly—but functional. This is where your hands know what to do even if your heart is still bruised.
“Dr. Robby, we need you!” Donnie insists from the doorway.
Robby strips off his gloves, checks the phone vibrating angrily in his pocket, and his jaw tightens. “Yes! Fuck! I’m coming, I’m coming! Fucking Langdon.”
He storms out and back into Trauma Two.
McKay refocuses instantly. “This port is in the esophagus.”
“With a ton of blood,” Javadi says, eyes wide.
“Mystery solved.” McKay’s voice is calm, instructional. “Pump up the esophageal balloon to 30 millimeters mercury.”
You grab the manometer and insufflator, connecting them to the esophageal port. “That’s an insufflator and a manometer?” Javadi asks.
“Yep,” McKay replies. “Just like a fancy bike pump.”
You begin inflating carefully, watching the pressure gauge climb. Too much pressure risks necrosis. Too little, and the varices keep bleeding.
“Thirty,” you say quietly.
“We are at 30, and shut the stopcock,” McKay instructs.
You close it.
Everyone watches.
The suction continues for a few seconds.
Then—
Less.
“Barely any blood coming from the esophageal port,” Javadi says, relief creeping into her voice.
McKay nods. “The balloon stopped the bleeding. Tomorrow GI can cauterize the veins.”
Band ligation. Definitive management once she’s stable.
Javadi exhales shakily. “That was awesome.”
McKay gives a small shrug. “I learned from the best.”
You glance at the monitor again. The blood pressure inches upward—88 over 50. Not safe yet, but better. You secure the tubing, double-check the pressure reading, wipe blood from the patient’s chin. Your movements are methodical, gentle.
Through the glass panel in the door, you catch a glimpse of Robby moving quickly moving around Trauma Two.
He doesn’t look back.
The room is quieter now. Not calm—but no longer spiraling.
The rapid infuser has slowed. The suction canister isn’t filling as fast. The Minnesota tube sits secured at the patient’s mouth, taped carefully, the manometer holding steady at 30 mmHg.
Jesse peels off his contact gown, the white fabric snapping softly as he rolls it inward. “BP’s 98 over 70. Heart rate’s 104.”
It’s not perfect.
But it’s perfusing.
You glance at the monitor yourself—mean arterial pressure finally acceptable. The kind of number that buys time.
Lucy is allowed back in.
She steps carefully to the bedside, like sudden movement might undo everything. Her eyes are swollen, cheeks blotchy. She reaches for her mother’s hand, careful around the IV lines and arterial tubing.
“So w-what happens next?” she asks.
McKay steps closer, her voice measured but gentle. “Once, uh, she’s stabilized, the GI specialist can do an endoscopy to try to cauterize the bleeders. Or they might put in a shunt to take pressure off the bleeding veins. And she’ll go to the top of the transplant list for a new liver.”
Lucy’s voice shakes. “‘The top of the list’? It’s that serious?”
“It is, yeah,” McKay says quietly. “But, um… once she gets her new liver, she should be able to return to normal life.”
Lucy nods slowly. “Okay. I—I guess I always knew that this day would come, but… somewhere in the back of my mind, I hoped that maybe it wouldn’t.”
There it is.
That thin, fragile hope everyone carries.
McKay softens further. “It’s a lot for someone your age to handle. Is there anybody we can call or—”
“Oh, no. No, it’s just us. It’s been that way for a long time.”
Javadi swallows. “I’m sorry. That’s really hard.”
“Yeah,” McKay adds. “It’s good she has you.”
While they talk, you and Kim adjust the blankets, check the Foley output, ensure the blood tubing is labeled correctly. You reposition the patient slightly to prevent skin breakdown, careful not to dislodge the tube. Perlah checks the infusion pump again.
You smooth the sheet over the patient’s shoulder.
Even sedated, even intubated, she looks smaller now.
You peel off your contact gown, rolling it inward the way infection control drilled into you years ago. Kim does the same.
You step out into Central.
The noise hits you immediately—phones ringing, overhead pages, printers, footsteps.
Your brain slides into autopilot.
Badge tap.
Login.
The charting screen opens, and you begin typing.
Time of intervention. Balloon inflation to 30 mmHg. Massive transfusion protocol initiated. Hemodynamics improving post-tamponade.
Your fingers move mechanically across the keyboard, documenting someone else’s survival while your own insides still feel bruised.
Dana appears beside you without fanfare.
She pats your head lightly, a gesture that would annoy anyone else and somehow doesn’t with her. “You sure you’re okay? You can go home early if you need to.”
The offer lands gently.
You shake your head faintly, eyes still on the screen. “I still need my phone.”
It comes out more defeated than you intended.
Dana huffs. “I’ll harass him for it when he finishes his call with Jake.”
Your typing falters for half a second at the mention of his name.
“Thank you,” you murmur to Dana.
She squeezes your shoulder once. “You did good in there.”
You nod, and you keep typing.
You hate that you still think of him constantly, endlessly, and relentlessly.
CENTRAL WORK AREA — DAY
You see him before he sees you.
Robby is standing near Theresa at the Central Work Area, posture slightly leaned in, listening. His hand rests on the counter, fingers tapping once in thought. He looks tired. Not physically—something deeper. Like the day has been scraping at him.
You almost make it past.
Almost.
He turns.
Your name leaves his mouth before you can stop it.
You don’t look back.
You pivot cleanly and walk away—fast enough to make a point, not fast enough to look like you’re running.
“Hey—” he calls again.
Your badge bounces lightly against your chest as you round the corner toward Fast Track. You hear his footsteps behind you for three strides—
—and then—
“Dr. Robby?” Samira’s voice cuts through, and Whitaker is standing next to her.
You don’t slow down, you don’t turn around.
You keep walking.
Later, you swing by Louie’s room to check on him. His oxygen is humming steadily at two liters, sats stable. You adjust his blanket and check his IV site.
When you step back into the hallway—
Robby is there.
Not close enough to corner you.
Close enough to try.
Your stomach flips.
You lower your gaze to your tablet like you’re checking vitals and pivot again, taking the opposite hallway.
“Can we just—” he starts.
But a transport tech pushes a stretcher between you.
You slip past him, and he doesn’t follow this time.
By the time you finish charting and double-checking your patients, the clock on the wall reads 5:52 P.M.
Eight minutes.
You consider it.
Just walking up to him. Holding out your hand. Asking for your phone.
Screw pride. Screw whatever this is.
You scan Central for Dana instead.
Santos notices you scanning. “She’s in the ambulance bay.”
Of course she is.
You push through the doors toward the bay, already bracing for the faint smell of cigarette smoke.
The cool air hits your face first.
You slow down when you hear Robby’s voice.
“You realize that this is the second person to accuse you of that today. You starting to see a pattern?”
Dana exhales smoke. “No. But I am starting to see why Gloria’s unhappy with your patient-satisfaction scores.”
Robby laughs.
It’s brief. Tired.
“You need something?” Dana asks. “Or you just here to ruin one of the few things that still brings me a little joy in life?”
“I sent Collins home.”
“You don’t want to work with anybody today. You must be in a mood.”
“She’s had a rough day.”
“It’s going around.” Dana flicks ash to the pavement. “Also, you need to give Ducky her phone back.”
Your breath stalls.
There’s a pause.
Robby sighs. “I was gonna give it back to her earlier, but she’s been avoiding me.”
You swallow.
“I wonder why,” Dana says dryly. “Give it to me, I’ll make sure she gets it back.”
“No,” he answers immediately. “I want to apologize to her first.”
The words hit somewhere low and vulnerable.
“You better fuckin’ hurry up and do that,” Dana says. “You really hurt her.”
Silence.
You don’t move. You shouldn’t be listening.
But you are.
“You should leave, too,” Robby tells her.
“Yeah. You’re good. You’re not that good,” Dana replies. “You know I was born at this hospital? I even volunteered here in high school. I’ve been punched, kicked, spit at, pissed on, had feces thrown at me.”
“I talked to Gloria,” Robby says. “I told her, listen, we got to do something to beef up security. This can’t happen again.”
“It will,” Dana says. “Maybe not to me, but to somebody. World’s changed. People are angry. Our tempers are shorter. And we’re still just trying to help.”
“You do help. You do make a difference. One asshole doesn’t get to change that.”
There’s a long pause.
“I think I’m done,” Dana says quietly.
You feel that in your bones.
“Yeah,” Robby answers. “I know that one. And I don’t blame you. I, uh… I-I-I-I don’t know. I don’t know. Maybe what I want and what the patients need isn’t what’s best for you anymore.”
“Yeah.”
“I just honestly don’t know what I’m going to do without you.”
“You’ll figure it out. You always do. You’re a good man, Robinavitch. Don’t let this place take that from you. Okay?”
Your chest tightens at the way she says it.
Like she believes it. Like she’s trying to save something in him.
Then her phone rings.
“Yeah?” Dana answers. Her face changes instantly. “Code triage. Multiple GSWs. There’s an active shooter at Pittfest.”
Everything inside you goes cold.
Robby freezes. “Jake and his girlfriend are there.”
The cigarette drops from Dana’s fingers, forgotten.
And just like that—The avoided apologies. Your phone. Your birthday.
None of it matters.
Glossary:
Tsismis
/ˈtʃismis/ or /ˈtsismis/
tsees-mis (sounds like "cheese-miss")
It is widely used in the Philippines to describe passing on unverified information or personal stories about someone else.
End Notes:
Avoidance final boss fr
Don’t you worry, your pretty little head, we will get more groveling from Robby in the next few chapters.
Not him holding your phone hostage HELP—
YAY ABSOLUTE TRAGEDY IN THE NEXT FEW CHAPTERS HOW FUN
AT LEAST WE GET TO SEE ABBOT
My other fav grump I can’t wait to write for him too heheheheehehehehehe
Would we want him with a Filipina Nurse too, or do I just make a civilian fic idk I’m still cooking on that one
Thank you all for your kind comments in the previous chapter. I send you all my love and hugs!!
WARNINGS: blowjob, semi-voyeurism, bj during a meeting, lingerie, power-play, bratty reader
summary: you have decided to get back at the panty-thief, also known as Roman Godfrey, through an elaborate scheme. will it go as planned, though?
word count: 8,672
← previous chapter | next chapter →
a/n: sorry about the gif, but that'd 100% be the faces he'd pull during a bj so......... tihi<333 also this was originally a chapter spanning over 20k words, but I've cut it up!! so take this as part one of the unravelling tihi, ENJOY the scene we've all been waiting for;)
Roman might've won the battle yesterday, but I was set on winning the war.
The plan I had come up with to counter the panty-thief, also known as my boss, was fool-proof-- I was sure of it. I shimmied my skirt further down my thighs after I stepped into the elevator, not wanting to reveal what I had worn beneath it for the group of people in here, before folding out the newspaper I had picked up after getting out of the metro.
"Frederic Arnault Removed From LVMH Amid Sexual Misconduct Scandal."
God, it was better than porn. Thank you, Roman, dear.
I could only grin as the elevator doors opened with a soft chime, stepping out feeling lighter than ever. This day was about to be fucking fantastic-- I could feel it in my bones. With my chin up high, I made my way to my desk, heart thrumming steadily in my chest as I tried to slow it down with deep, controlled breaths. Every inch of lace under my clothes made me feel taller, sharper, and that more dangerous as the hallway ahead of me hummed with the usual morning quiet-- screens flickering on, keyboards starting to click, voices low and polite, and I walked through it like it was air, like I wasn't even part of the same dimension.
I set my coffee on my desk, then placed the folded newspaper next to it like a crown, like a trophy. And then, as casually as a breath, I turned to look over my shoulder to see the man who had me tossing and turning all night.
Oh, of course.
Roman's green, piercing gaze was already on me, practically Kubrick-staring at me through the glass walls of his office as he pressed the office landline phone to his ear, the cord of it wrapped lazily around his fingers like he might seduce me with that action alone.
He was up and walking, but he wasn't pacing-- not today. Today, he stalked. Each step was slow, deliberate, like the floor owed him something, and he circled his desk once, then leaned into the edge of it with his free hand, knuckles flat against the polished surface, weight shifting through his frame like a fuse being lit.
Roman's eyes were on me-- not flicking, not glancing, no.
Locked.
The same way he might look at something he was planning to ruin for fun... or worship, depending on the hour.
I decided to act like it didn't affect me, not flashing the soft, beaming smile he usually got from me every morning. I tried not to stare at the tie he wore today, getting flashbacks from yesterday with each second I looked at him, and don't make me mention the suit... oh, the suit.
No, no. I had a plan. Had to follow it. Couldn't stray. No, no, no.
Turning on my heels like I had been scorned, I put down my Birkin, eyes glazing over the initials Roman had personally gotten engraved into the gold plating for me-- such a thoughtful gift from the man that had been colder than stone just mere days ago.
Then, just as I expected, the sound of his door unlocking pulled at me before I even heard the handle turn. It was quiet, almost delicate, the kind of movement that wouldn't register unless you were waiting for it-- and I was. Of course I was. I didn't turn around, not yet-- I wanted him to watch me like this for a moment longer; composed and indifferent, like I hadn't spent the night thinking about his mouth, his hands, and like I didn't feel the intoxicating weight of his stare against my ass. Perv.
Everything was going according to plan without me even trying-- this was fucking delightful.
I slowly turned, letting my head move before my body like I wasn't dying to obey, like my pulse wasn't already flaring in my wrists.
Roman stood halfway in the doorway, one hand gripping the frame above his head like he needed to hold something to keep from reaching for me. The tie (that goddamn tie) was loosened just enough to show the line of his collarbone, and his mouth was set in that usual smug grin-- hungry, like he missed the way I looked in his backseat yesterday, like he hadn't stopped thinking about it, not even while he had been standing there on the phone.
"Problem, sir?" I asked, chin tilting.
Roman's green gaze slid slowly over me, up and down. "No," he murmured. "Am I not allowed to say good morning to my secretary?"
The way he said secretary made it sound like a kink-- that fucker.
"You are," I said, voice calm and clipped as my fingers smoothed down a nonexistent wrinkle on my skirt. "You just usually say it before you steal my underwear, so excuse my caution."
Roman's mouth curved, a flicker of something filthy behind his teeth. When my heart thudded harder at the look of his expression, my eyes darted down to his suit, which caught the light in all the right places-- the edge of his shoulders, the sleek line down his thigh; he looked like money, like danger, and like the most exquisite mistake I'd ever want to make again.
"Mm," he hummed, gaze catching on my legs. "I suppose that's fair." His eyes dragged back up to mine, slow as smoke. "Would you dare to step into my office, or are you perhaps too traumatized?"
My lips curved slowly-- not into a smile, not quite into anything. "Not that traumatized, no," I said, voice light as I smoothed a palm over my hip, letting his eyes follow the motion. "But you've proven I can't be alone in enclosed spaces with you if I want to keep all my belongings."
Roman tilted his head, the movement subtle, deliberate. He was still leaning in the doorway, his height exaggerated by the angle, one shoulder dipped just slightly as he looked down at me like he was already undressing me with his gaze. His eyes were darker now, more shadow than colour, and every part of him radiated restraint on the edge of ruin; like he could be good, but didn't want to be. "That's not a no," he murmured, voice dipped in amusement, almost fond.
"It's not a yes either," I countered.
Roman's eyes flicked to my mouth; "You're stalling,"
I met his gaze, dead-on, daring him to blink. "You're the one blocking the door,"
That earned me a smile-- a real one. Small, sharp, and dangerously slow.
And then, Roman moved, shifting just enough to the side, opening the door behind him with a graceful, almost theatrical sweep of his arm. The hallway buzzed behind us with the oblivious rhythm of a normal morning, but the silence between us pulsed thick and private, as if we had stepped out of time. "After you," he said, voice pitched low in a way that made my pulse throb behind my knees. "Unless you're scared you won't make it out this time."
I stared at Roman for a beat longer, making him wait. Cunt. Manwhore. Panty-kleptomaniac.
But eventually, I stepped forward, my heels clicking against the floor like punctuation, skirt swaying at the backs of my thighs. As I passed him, I felt his big eyes dip, drag, and pause just a little too long; did he have no shame, perhaps? How many times was he going to shamelessly stare at my ass today?
I didn't look back-- not yet. That would give him something, and he didn't get anything from me today.
I had made sure of that.
Because what he didn't know, what he couldn't possibly see from up there, was that beneath the neatly pressed fabric of my skirt and the demure swing of my hips, I was wearing a full lace garter set. Bra, panties, garter belt, stockings. Clipped, strapped, and cinched like armour.
There would be no stealing today.
And if he tried? He'd have to unclip four garter straps, slide down my sheer thigh-highs, and deal with a level of complicated fastening that no man could manage with one hand and a smug grin.
Let him try.
At that, my smile returned-- slow, sweet, and a little mocking. My plan was fucking fantastic.
I slid into the seat opposite Roman's desk, deliberately letting the hem of my skirt ride up just enough to catch attention. I didn't glance up to see him approach-- I didn't need to. I could feel him watching like static in the air, like heat against the back of my neck, and I knew everything was going as planned.
Roman circled me slowly, his steps silent against the polished floor, not in any rush. He moved like a man with all the time in the world to decide what he was going to do with me, and just as I guessed, he started rolling the blinds down one by one, closing us off from the rest of the office.
I watched his reflection in the uncovered glass wall behind him, refusing to turn my head, savouring the small thrill of pretending to be indifferent while his shadow loomed closer. He passed behind me, pausing, just for a moment, before he walked over to his chair. I felt his gaze like a hand on the back of my neck.
When Roman finally sat down, it was with that signature grace of his-- one long leg stretching out beneath the desk, fingers brushing over the edge of the wood. He then leaned back slightly in his chair, one arm draped lazily over the armrest, the other bringing his fingertips to his lips in thought. "I see you're in good spirits this morning," he teased at last, his voice all silk and venom, soft yet loaded. "Still salty from your loss?"
I exhaled once through my nose, a sound that might've been a laugh if I wasn't so busy holding onto my composure with both hands. My legs crossed slowly beneath the desk, heel dangling from the arch of my foot in a rhythm I knew he'd notice. "You mean the theft," I said, finally flicking my gaze up to meet his. "You make it sound like I had a fighting chance after the shit you pulled."
Roman's smile deepened, slow and sharp; "You did. You just lost,"
I tilted my head, the motion slight, almost feline. "So, what did you do with your trophy? Did you hang my panties over your bed, or did you use them to get off, perhaps?"
Roman's smile didn't falter-- if anything, it darkened. Spread. Turned indulgent in that maddening way of his, the one that said careful, little girl, you're playing with fire. He didn't answer right away; he just tapped his finger once against his lip, as if genuinely considering how much to unveil, like I had given him a pleasant errand instead of a burn. "I thought about it," he murmured, shrugging. "But I'm not going to disclose anything... confidential. That's between me and your underwear."
Ugh. I bet they hung over his bed like an animal bust.
"Was there anything else, sir?" I asked, returning to my play of indifference. "Anything of importance, perhaps? I'm not too interested in sitting here and listening to you gloat."
"... Gloat?" Roman huffed a soft breath of laughter, but it didn't quite make it to his mouth. His eyes were too dark now, too focused, like he had already started stripping me down in his mind with the same attention to detail he gave to contracts and corporate acquisitions. "I like reminders," he said, voice lowering again, slipping into that private, conspiratorial tone that curled somewhere behind my navel. "Especially when you come in here acting like I didn't make you cum in the backseat of my car with your skirt bunched around your waist."
I would've blushed, had I not been so pissed off.
Instead, I smiled wider.
"So that's your thing, then?" I asked, almost sweetly. "Wrecking women in office-appropriate skirts and collecting what's left of them in lace?"
Roman exhaled a slow breath through his nose. "No. You're my thing,"
"... Right," I muttered, leaning back in my seat, slow and regal. Thing? His thing?
Oh well... Now was the time to strike-- I'd had enough of his gloating.
I shifted in my seat before deliberately inching my skirt up further, unveiling the black garter that connected to my thigh-high stockings. I watched with passive interest as Roman's gaze dropped like a magnet to the motion-- he didn't even try to hide the way his eyes rounded out.
"Sir," I said smoothly, voice slipping into that polished, practiced ease I wore for his boardrooms. "If you're so fond of trophies, I figured I'd show you what you're not getting today."
Roman blinked once, twice, before catching up-- his expression slipped from mild shock to something way more entertained, perhaps amused, before he let out a quiet, controlled aah, accepting the challenge I had thrown at him like a lit match across the desk. He nodded slowly to himself as he sank back further into his chair, absorbing it.
It was followed by the kind of filthy smile that said he wanted to devour me whole, but would rather take his time watching me squirm first. The kind that said you think you've won, even as his eyes dragged like a slow hand across the exposed garter, the flash of bare thigh, the black lace biting softly into my skin.
"Well, well," he purred, voice rough now, coloured with heat. "You've come prepared."
"Of course,"
"This is war to you, huh?"
"Oh, certainly, sir," At that, I stood slowly, fluid and controlled, like the decision had already been made in my bones, and my body was merely catching up. I had planned this bit last night, but actually executing it was somewhat nerve-wracking-- I was sure it didn't show, though. I took a rather leisurely stroll around the desk, and I didn't have to look at him to recognise the shape of Roman leaning back, watching me with parted lips and darkened eyes, and his tie sinfully loosened.
"I admit yesterday's defeat," I purred, getting close enough to trail my fingers across Roman's left shoulder, avoiding his hungry eyes. "But I realized I can't win against you on your terms, because you'll always make it impossible. Therefore... I've concluded that I'll simply have to make it harder for you to steal my underwear, point blank."
Roman bit the inside of his cheek, probably trying to keep his excitement contained, yet to no avail. My fingers had barely skimmed the fabric of his jacket, but I could already feel the tension radiating off him like heat through glass-- I didn't need to look at him to know his jaw was tight, that his fingers had probably curled into the arms of the chair, and that somewhere in the back of his mind, he was already tearing the garter off me with his teeth.
But he didn't move-- Roman was letting me make my move. "You think a garter will stop me?" he murmured, almost mockingly, as he turned his chair to face me fully. "It's just a piece of fabric. Easy to get your panties around. You've got to make a better plan, if this is what you've come up with."
I could only sigh. "Oh, Roman," I purred. "You think this is it?"
My hands drifted to my skirt; I watched as he held his breath, eyes burning with excitement. I did a slow sweep across the fabric. Another. Then another. And then, with two fingers and the softest sigh of motion, I began to inch the hem upward to my waist. I held my skirt up, finally revealing the whole contraption.
The sheer, black stockings were connected to a garter, yes-- but what kept the garters up reached all the way up to the garter belt around my waist, which consequently caged in my lace, black underwear.
Roman's reaction was immediate; I could see it ripple through him like a slow wave. His pupils, already wide, dilated even further-- black eating green. His mouth parted just slightly, but no words came out, not even one of his cocky little remarks.
Not this time, no-- he was speechless.
And God, it was delicious.
I held my skirt where it was, unapologetically high, letting the silence stretch, letting him look. The garter wasn't just a deterrent-- it was a statement. The treasure he wanted to steal, my poor panties, were framed in lace and restraint, held tightly in place by clips that connected from thigh to waist like armour, like I had engineered the whole thing for the sole purpose of driving him insane.
Which, of course, I had.
"Fuck," Roman breathed, lips parted in complete enthralment. He leaned forward, placed his hands behind my knees to motion me to step closer between his legs, which I allowed-- only because he wasn't anywhere near my lingerie. Something told me that he knew not to touch, and I ignored the way my grin only grew wider and wider.
"Well, aren't you gorgeous," Roman murmured with awe, reaching forward despite his better judgement. His fingers were warm against my skin; they skimmed upward from the delicate bend behind my knee, tracing the curve of my hip in a slow, reverent glide. "You pretty thing... I didn't know you owned this sort of stuff."
Well... Um. Roman didn't need to know that I got up early to run to the nearest lingerie store in my area, and tried out different designs for about twenty-five minutes, until I found this one. He didn't need to know any of that, actually. Instead, I gave a casual shrug, trying to keep my impending blush away from my cheeks in regards to all the compliments-- trying, and failing a little, because God, his voice when he said pretty thing? That was going to live behind my ribcage for weeks.
"I have a few secrets," I teased, even as my breath caught at the second pass of Roman's fingertips.
As I imagined he would when I planned this last night, his hands skimmed up to brush over my garter belt, now tracing around my waist. He really thought he could just touch me whenever, that I was his whenever, ready for him to grope and feel up whenever-- and sure, to some extent, he was right... but not right now.
Roman's fingertips brushed the front, slow and curious, and I let him linger there and think I'd let him unclasp it for exactly one second too long.
Then, I dropped my skirt.
The fabric slipped from my hand in one fluid motion, falling back into place like a curtain being drawn, hiding everything-- the garter, the lace, the vulnerability, and erasing it in a whisper of cotton. I went for Roman's hands, gently prying them off me; at that, he blinked, stunned, like someone had shut the lights off mid-sentence. "Oh, what's this?" he asked, souring. "Petty revenge?"
I shrugged as I gently smoothed my skirt, palms running over the curve of my hips, ignoring the fact that I was burning inside with excitement, that my breath was shallow and tight, and that my heart was doing dangerous things in my chest. I didn't let any of that show. I just looked down at him like he was a child caught with sticky fingers in a cabinet full of things that weren't his. "I just don't think you should be touching my lingerie," I said, voice calm and poised, like I wasn't seconds away from falling apart. "I never know what you might try to steal next."
Roman let out a short, disbelieving laugh, halfway to a snort. "And I think you should think twice before going through with this plan of yours," he said, the threat laced in his honeyed voice. "What even is it? To get me mad?"
"No, sir," I glanced past his annoyed gaze, past the way his fingers were impatiently trailing the arms of his chair, and down where I knew I had affected him most-- and unmistakably so, he was affected, alright. I could see the way Roman's pants had tightened, his cock having swelled with interest in his suit slacks, and that engaged phase two of my plan; "I just... wanted to thank you."
Roman followed the trail of my eyes and let out a huff, visibly displeased with my behaviour. "For what?" he mumbled, wary. "I know you're up to something."
I tilted my head, the picture of perfect innocence as I batted my lashes at him. "I saw what you did with Frederic,"
Removed From LVMH Amid Sexual Misconduct Scandal, as he should be.
"And I wanted to thank you, sir,"
Roman let out a low sound-- half a scoff, half a breath. "I made a few calls," he mumbled. "Not a big deal. I'd rather he was executed by firing squad, the French way."
"You avenged me," I corrected, my tone laced with something deeper. "And I... wanted to thank you for that. It means a lot." Which, in truth, it did. It made me feel all warm and tingly inside that he had taken the time to do that, that he had put his career on the line, that he had dared to show that he cared.
"So," I said sweetly, bending down just a smidge. "Let me thank you properly, sir."
Roman's green eyes flared. "You're not--"
Oh, I was.
Before he could finish the sentence, I bent down gracefully, hands light on his thighs-- not to part them, but to anchor myself, like I was just getting comfortable. I didn't break eye contact as I slipped beneath the desk with a fluid, practiced elegance, skirt brushing along the carpet as I kneeled between his legs, all calm, deliberate submission.
Immediately, Roman sucked in a sharp breath. All that ease, all that bravado, disappeared with a blink of an eye as he reached for my wrists on his knees, staring down at me like I was a bad, misbehaving dog. "We are not doing this," he hissed.
I blinked up at him. "We aren't?"
"I have a meeting in three minutes!" Roman continued through gritted teeth. "With the head of the Brazilian branch, for fuck's sake!"
Head? Oh, the irony. I tilted my head again, batting my lashes, smiling sweetly-- I knew all of this worked, because I could see the way his cock twitched in his slacks. How many times hadn't he pressed it up against me? How many times hadn't he deliberately done so to make me aware, to make me feel it? I had only seen it once, when he put a vibe to my clit during lunch, but this... this was way more intriguing. "And are you going to do so with a hard-on, sir?" I purred, my hands gently twisting out of his grip, before trailing them slowly up his thighs. "I'll take care of it. I'll be a good secretary. And after all, sir, if I am to be frank... I really want to know how you taste."
Roman leaned back in his chair with a guttural sound that was half groan, half a curse, swallowed behind clenched teeth. His large palms dragged through his hair like he was physically trying to reboot himself, like maybe if he tugged hard enough at his scalp, he'd wake up and find this wasn't happening. "You're nuts. I know what you're doing, do you really think it's that easy to derail me?"
If I had a tail, it would wag now. "Yes, sir," I whispered sweetly, leaning in just a little further, my breath brushing over the stiff line in his pants. "I think so."
Roman's head tipped back against the leather chair with a muted thud. "You knew I had this meeting," he hissed, voice fraying at the edges now. "You planned this to fuck me over, didn't you?"
"I only wanted to thank you... And perhaps help you relax before it," I cooed. "You always say I should be more supportive."
His eyes dropped back down to me with a look so sharp it could've split me open. His jaw flexed hard enough to crack; "I'm not going to let you mess with me like this," he threatened, low and strained. "You have no power over me. This is not how this works."
I smiled wider, pressing my cheek to the inside of his thigh-- it was almost comical to see Roman like this, panicked about being on the receiving end of anything. "But I'm being so sweet," I cooed, eyes still locked on his. "And I'm not looking to take any power from you. I don't want that. What would silly little me do with power? I just want to please you, that's all."
Roman stared down at me, chest rising fast now as his hands braced on the arms of his chair as though he needed to physically hold himself back. "I swear to God," he muttered. "If someone knocks on this door-- if anyone even nears this office during that call!--"
"Then you'll have to stay very quiet, sir," I murmured, voice silken as my nails lightly trailed over his zipper. "And let your good secretary handle it."
Roman's hands twitched like he didn't know whether to drag me out from under the desk and ruin me against the window, or let me have my wicked way. He chose neither-- at least, not yet. Instead, he gritted out; "If you bite me, I'll pan the camera down to you and let everybody see. Don't be cute,"
I smiled against the fabric, all charm and heat and threat as I unbuckled his belt. His empty threats didn't mean anything to me at the moment-- I knew him too well. "Do I take that as a yes, sir?"
Roman rolled his eyes, contained another groan, and nodded. "Only 'cause you look pretty like this," he grumbled. "But if you pull any of this shit on me again, I'll bend you over my desk and rip through every strap of that little set you're so damn proud of."
With a pout, I let the belt drop to the floor, slowly unzipping his slacks with the kind of care you only reserve for silk ribbons. "Well," I murmured, nuzzling my cheek against his thigh. "That's certainly one way to show appreciation for my initiative."
Roman groaned again, this time not bothering to hide it. His fingers flexed around the arms of his chair like he was holding himself back from grabbing me by the hair and showing me exactly what happened to disobedient little secretaries-- but I kept going, breath warm against him, lashes lowered, pretending I wasn't already dripping from the threat he'd just thrown at me.
"If you rip through it," I murmured, tracing one finger along the seam of his boxers; "You'll have to buy me another set. Possibly two. And let's be honest..." I looked up at him now, chin tilted, voice honeyed. "My taste is expensive. I will break your bank account."
The second those words left my mind, something in my brain clicked; what did I just say? That didn't sound like me. Within a split second, I felt my cheeks heat up, but I tried to cover it with a tiny giggle. Was I perhaps getting drunk on the power he had so desperately wanted to keep away from me?
Roman's nostrils flared-- his annoyed expression didn't hide the way his cock twitched at the thought of me using his card, though. "They're gonna call me any minute now. Last chance to stop fucking with me,"
"I'm not," I corrected softly, sliding my hands slowly along his thighs. "And if you're smart, you'll let me do this. You'll let me thank you."
At that, he seemed to stop resisting.
Roman got busy with his keyboard, getting ready to enter the online meeting as I pulled his hard cock out of his briefs, watching as it stood proud, and listened to him let out a small sigh of relief-- bet that felt good to get out of its constraints. My initial thought was that I thought his cock was pretty, which immediately felt odd to think; it was, though. I felt my heart soar, realizing that I was actually going to get to suck off the Roman Godfrey-- but then again, to be completely honest, it had been a hot minute since I had done anything like this at all. Still, it didn't hinder me from remembering the basics; I leaned forward, wetting my lips before placing them at the tip of his cock, giving it a small, wet kiss.
Fuck-- he was delightfully soft to the touch. I was about to get addicted to this, wasn't I?
Roman's cock twitched against my lips, and I felt the restrained tension ripple through him, as though the gentlest touch threatened to undo him. My heart thrummed with triumph and excitement, my pulse echoing softly in my ears as I carefully parted my lips, gently easing just the swollen head of him into my mouth. The taste was rich, intoxicating-- purely Roman, warmth and silk over my tongue. What an honour, what a pleasure.
He exhaled sharply above me, the sound barely audible but unmistakable-- tense, bitten-back desire laced through every controlled breath. His hips shifted slightly beneath me, betraying the struggle he was already enduring to stay composed.
Slowly, almost shyly, I slid my lips further down, enveloping more of him, letting my tongue slide along the underside of his hard cock. I sucked softly, my cheeks hollowing just enough to coax another breathy groan from Roman's tightly pressed lips, one I knew he fought hard to silence. Holy fuck. My lashes fluttered closed, savouring the weight of him on my tongue, the heat of him filling my mouth inch by aching inch-- oh, how I had dreamed of this. Oh, how I had longed for this.
Roman's hand finally moved away from the computer-- hesitantly at first, his fingers grazed my cheek with unexpected gentleness, and his thumb brushed along my jawline in a silent caress of appreciation. It sent a spark of electricity across my skin, making me bolder; I let my mouth relax more, slowly working him deeper, relishing the small, involuntary thrust of his hips that followed as he struggled to stay silent, to keep still.
My pace remained deliberately slow and teasing; each time I drew back, my tongue swirled softly around the sensitive crown, lingering long enough to feel him shudder beneath my palms. Then I'd sink down again, wetter, more insistently, but still maintaining that shy, demure rhythm designed solely to unravel his composure inch by delicious inch.
"God, fuck--" he whispered hoarsely, so softly that only I could hear. His fingers tightened gently in my hair, a silent plea that urged me onward, telling me not to stop. I felt his pulse quicken beneath my fingertips, throbbing through his thighs, his cock swelling impossibly harder against the soft, wet pressure of my tongue.
I couldn't help the quiet moan that escaped my throat in response, sending a vibration coursing through him. His entire body stiffened, muscles tight as he fought against every primal instinct to fuck his cock into my mouth.
"Behave," Roman muttered, voice thick and ragged as his fingers stroked my hair, holding me firmly in place.
I smiled softly around his cock, eyes lifting coyly to his strained expression as I slowly, deliberately, took him even deeper, daring him to break, to lose himself completely beneath the careful ministrations of his oh-so-devoted secretary.
Then, just as he began to buck over and over into my mouth, the screen lit up with the incoming video call. Roman tensed, his grip tightening in my hair just enough to warn me; "Don't do anything stupid," he said, voice tight and rough with restraint.
I batted my lashes up at him, coming off his cock to press a kiss to the sensitive underside of the pink tip-- "Wouldn't dream of it, sir," I purred.
Roman had no option but to trust me, now. Sorry, not sorry. With a flustered shake of his head, he caressed my hair twice, signaling me to get back to what I was doing so he could get back to what he had to do.
Okay, okay.
As he greeted the head of the Brazilian delegation, his voice was smooth, professional, betraying nothing of the secret pleasure beneath his desk. I continued my slow rhythm, each slide of my lips deliberate and careful, drawing out the torment as my hand joined, stroking his cock with each bob of my head. Above me, Roman stuttered slightly at the added friction, disguising it quickly with a cough; "Ah-- apologies, good morning. Yes, I'm fine. Just a... minor cold,"
His fingers tightened in my hair again, swatting my hand away before silently directing me to slow down even more, guiding my movements carefully as I obeyed his unspoken command. His cock pulsed eagerly in my mouth, and I felt him swell impossibly harder against my tongue, fighting desperately for composure as he managed his words with strained ease.
My tongue teased the sensitive underside of his shaft, pressing just firmly enough to send a ripple of tension through him. Roman's breathing grew heavier, even as he forced his voice steady and calm, discussing figures, logistics, and contracts. Each time he paused, I could feel his self-control straining, his fingers gripping tighter, silently hoping for mercy and release.
With an almost imperceptible urgency, Roman finally guided me faster, hips lifting subtly to match my rhythm as I took him deeper, wetter, pushing him ever closer to the edge. His thighs tensed beneath my palms, his pulse hammering wildly through his skin-- I could feel it from under his desk.
Then, with a quiet, shuddering breath disguised as a cough, Roman came, his hips jerking gently as he spilled down my throat, filling my mouth with his release. I swallowed obediently, savouring the taste, the sensation, and the triumphant intimacy of the moment-- honestly, I had never wanted to swallow before, but this was different. This was Roman. When it was him, I enjoyed it. This was the man of all my dreams, and I didn't care that it was warm, didn't care about the consistency as I had with others, because this? This was it. Roman was it for me, and this whole ordeal had gone better than I could've ever imagined.
As Roman silently recovered, he loosened his grip on my hair, stroking it affectionately as he seamlessly continued the conversation, his voice perfectly composed, leaving no trace of the wicked indulgence he had just enjoyed beneath his desk. And just for a split second, his green eyes darted down to look at me-- he scanned the way my lips had slightly swelled, and how my half-lidded gaze stared up at him with a sweetness that betrayed my every action. I felt the twitch of his thighs beneath my palms as I tucked him back into his slacks, the residual tension laced through his muscles like a low electric hum, and that was when he snapped.
Roman adjusted in his chair, cleared his throat, and gave a shallow nod toward the screen. "Just a moment," he said smoothly, holding up a finger toward the camera. "There's something I need to attend to."
Before I knew it, Roman muted the mic, reached for the small icon, and turned off the camera. And then, in one swift, unhesitating movement, he grabbed me by the hair, harshly enough to make my heart jolt. I would've complained, would've whined, but I knew what this was; this was Roman saying you're mine.
He pulled me up from beneath the desk, forcing me to rise higher between his legs, and before I could say a word or catch a breath, Roman leaned forward beneath the desk and kissed me like he was still tasting the moment we'd shared. His mouth was hot and forgiving, all tongue and frustration, the kind of kiss that left no air, no doubt, and no room to hide.
His hand cradled the side of my neck as he kissed me again, longer this time, his tongue moving against mine with slow, deliberate possession. I whimpered faintly against his mouth, and his hand tightened in my hair again, grounding me.
"You are--" he muttered between kisses; "--completely out of your mind."
"I just want you," I whispered back, breathless.
He let out a soft huff that might've been a laugh, had it not been drenched in disbelief, and then dragged his thumb across my lower lip like he needed the contact to anchor him. "You're fucking unbelievable," he murmured. "Get comfortable."
I didn't need to be told twice.
I slid down to the floor again and curled up lazily between his legs, resting my head in his lap like a cat who had just gotten the best tummy rubs of her life. It didn't take long before Roman turned his camera back on and resumed the meeting-- he adjusted his seat slightly to accommodate me, one hand drifting absently into my hair, stroking it with the same fingers that had just clutched the arms of his chair like restraints.
For this, all the anguish had been worth it. For this, I could go through a dozen Frederic Arnaults-- no, ew, I take that back. That was enough trauma for a lifetime. Still, I quietly sighed against Roman's thigh, nuzzling it as I made myself comfortable. This felt so... right. How had I ever lived without this? How had I ever functioned? I couldn't without him, even though I was in the middle of getting back at him for stealing my underwear.
However, I wasn't thinking about the plan.
Because right now, I was thinking about Roman and me, and how wonderfully warm I was sure we both felt in the aftermath of my endeavours.
｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ
By the time we were seated in Roman's private lunch lounge, glass walls dimmed with switchable film, and a view of the skyline he barely acknowledged, I was already halfway through my Caesar salad and sipping a Coke with the kind of reverence most people reserved for vintage wine.
It wasn't fancy or elegant, or in any way appropriate for the space, but I didn't care-- it had been a long, emotionally complicated morning, and Roman had told me I could get whatever I wanted. My knees hurt. My nerves were fried. And this? This was my comfort food. Shredded romaine, grilled chicken, maybe-too-much dressing, and a Coke so cold it made my teeth hurt. Bliss.
Across from me, Roman sat perfectly straight in his sleek chair, his OCD lunch untouched before him. His napkin was still folded neatly, his hands were clasped in front of him like he was observing a ritual he wasn't invited to, and the biggest tell of his mood was how he said nothing. Roman just watched me with that particular blend of disdain and disbelief.
I took another bite, sighing happily through my nose. "What?"
Roman blinked, slowly. "You're drinking Coke. With a Caesar salad,"
"Yes?" I said. "Is that a felony in your world, sir?"
He narrowed his eyes. "It's just... violent,"
"It's delicious," I corrected, stabbing my fork down for another bite. "Not everything has to be rabbit food cut up in perfect squares to be digestible. I mean... for me, that is. I know it's not your thing."
Roman didn't answer-- his expression caught somewhere between a sulk and a smolder. I could tell he hadn't recovered from earlier, from the moment I had slid under his desk with sweet little words and a wicked mouth and derailed his entire existence before a major call. Now, I was just eating lunch like nothing happened, like I wasn't the reason he had to mute himself mid-meeting just to breathe through the aftermath of his orgasm.
"Sir," I said, lips around the rim of my glass of Coke. "You're glaring. Have I done something bad?"
Roman's jaw ticked; "Well. I'm... recalibrating,"
"To what?"
"To the fact that I let you do that,"
My heart gave a soft, painful jolt. I tucked my hands under the table for a second, smoothing my skirt just to give myself something to do. "Did you... not like it?" I asked, quieter now.
Roman leaned back in his chair, exhaling hard through his nose. "I didn't say that," he grumbled. "That would be lying. I'm just trying to decipher what you've planned, because that was... unexpected. And very out of character. All I know is that you're keen on avenging your underwear."
I dabbed the corner of my mouth with my napkin, posture straightening just slightly in my chair-- prim, even ladylike, if one could ignore the Coca-Cola. My fork moved with slow, graceful precision, spearing a perfectly dressed leaf of romaine before I brought it to my lips. I chewed like I was at a garden party, not a post-blowjob debrief.
Roman watched all of this with a stare that bordered on clinically disturbed; "I'm serious," he said. "What else are you planning?"
I blinked up at him, all doe-eyed sweetness. "Planning?"
"Yes. Planning," He gestured vaguely toward me, his expression vaguely tortured. "I have a feeling this isn't the end of it."
I tilted my head, feigning thought. "No plan," I said. "Just gratitude. You were very helpful with Frederic, so... I thought I'd return the favour. Make you feel good."
Roman narrowed his eyes, leaned forward, and laced his fingers together like he was about to cross-examine me. "So, you just decided to crawl under my desk like some demonic little secretary and suck me off during a meeting with international delegates. No ulterior motive,"
"None," I beamed, sipping my Coke. "Well... okay, maybe one?"
He stilled. "A-ha... Go on,"
"I just wanted to prove a point," I said, shrugging as I laid my fork down with intentional calm. "You seemed to think I wasn't the type."
Roman's brow furrowed. "The type?"
"Mhm," I murmured. "You remember yesterday in the car? I told you I wouldn't blow you there, and you got that smug little look like, oh, of course she wouldn't, like I'm all prim and proper and sexually repressed." I reached for my napkin again, gently blotting my lips. "I just wanted to be clear that I do go down on guys. I'm not a nun."
Phase three was in motion. I was slowly getting to my main incentive by introducing the topic.
Roman gave the faintest huff of a laugh, like he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "And hallelujah for that," he muttered, picking up his water glass with a dry twist of his mouth. "I never took you for a nun, anyway. Repressed... perhaps. But you're always running around making trouble in hopes of me dealing with you, so there is something peculiar about you."
I folded my napkin neatly, keeping my gaze low as I murmured; "That's funny, sir... I was just thinking the same thing about you,"
His glass paused at his lips.
I looked up sweetly; "I mean, you steal girls' underwear, hide vibrators in your briefcase, and you've gone as far as to make me hump your shoe. Is that not peculiar, too?"
Roman let out a sharp breath through his nose-- half a laugh, half a threat. His jaw ticked, his knuckles now resting tight against the edge of the table, like he needed the hard surface to keep himself grounded. I could see it happening in real time, that short-circuit of disbelief-- that deeply personal discomfort of being outmanoeuvred in a game he invented.
He stared at me like I was a test he hadn't studied for. "Cut the crap. What are you getting at?"
"Oh, nothing crazy, sir,"
Roman's green stare sharpened. "You're acting out,"
"And you," I said, spearing a crouton delicately; "Strike me as a man who doesn't go down on women."
Bingo. I watched as Roman's brow arched in disbelief at the audacity of that sentence. "I what?" he asked, slowly, like he wasn't sure he'd heard me correctly.
I didn't look at him-- I just delicately nibbled the edge of my crouton, calm as you please, as my insides screamed at me to shut the fuck up before he pulled out a whip or something. When had I managed to grow this big a pair of balls? Seriously, what was happening to me today? "I mean, it's fine," I murmured. "You get whoever you want, whenever you want, and I suppose there is an incentive as to... what you can get away with not doing, as a man like you, with status like you."
Roman stared at me, stunned-- truly, violently stunned. This wasn't the secretary he knew; this was the ghost of vengeance. May my panties rest in peace, wherever they were.
I kept my eyes on my plate, shrugging nonchalantly as my heart hammered in my chest. I was truly playing with fire now, which is why I had to get going through the flames to avoid any long-term burns. "You weren't okay with me touching you until, like, three days ago," I continued. "You strike me as someone who... wouldn't be too comfortable with your face between a woman's legs. Too intimate. Too personal. Too... close, right?"
Roman slowly leaned back in his chair, gaze raking over me like he was trying to decide if I was being serious or suicidal-- and that was when I knew I had aced phase three. Get him pissed. Get him ready to prove you wrong.
Because what I actually wanted out of this day? After he stole my fucking underwear and kept it?
I wanted him to eat me out like he was sorry.
That would make me feel like I had my dignity back, and nothing less. This was just the build-up that was needed to get him to do it of his own volition.
Roman's head tilted back slowly, his lips parting in a disbelieving smile. He looked like someone trying to remember whether or not murder was still considered a felony in the state of Pennsylvania. "You think I don't go down on women," he said flatly, as though reciting back the charges in court.
I finally lifted my eyes to him, sipping my Coke with something close to innocent politeness. "That's what I said, sir,"
"You think I don't--" He cut himself off, face tightening like the words physically offended him. "You have absolutely no idea what the fuck you're talking about."
I widened my eyes in a faux-demure way. "Oh? So you do?" I said, cocking my head.
Roman stared at me like he wanted to flip the table, or climb over it, or pull me across it by the back of my neck and silence me with his mouth. I couldn't read him now that I was too busy stepping through this landmine of my kamikaze plan.
"You think I don't eat pussy?" he said, voice low and furious, like it physically pained him to say the words. "Are we really having this conversation?"
I pursed my lips. "I think if you did, we'd all know by now,"
Roman looked like I had just punched him square in the reputation. His jaw set so hard I could hear the grind of his teeth. "You-- God, you are unbelievable," he snarled, eyes narrowing. "I know you're trying to make me prove it, but at this point, I don't give a damn. I will, right fucking now, if that will shut you up for today."
The chair behind him scraped harshly against the polished floor as he stood at full height, hands braced on the edge of the table like it was the only thing keeping him from launching over it. His eyes were wild with intention, a full-throttle kind of fury that wasn't just about sex-- it was about pride, about power, about someone finally poking a hole in the mask he had spent his whole adult life wearing.
Roman was practically vibrating-- his suit jacket shifted with the rise and fall of his chest, and he looked at me like I was the final straw, the final provocation, the match tossed on gasoline.
And me?
I smiled.
Slow and steady, full of that unbearable, infuriating grace I knew he loathed most when it came from me. "I'm very flattered," I purred, folding my hands politely over my lap, like we were still in some corporate negotiation. "But... I'm a bit shy. I think you gotta buy me dinner before something like that."
The silence that followed was nuclear.
Roman's mouth parted in shock, his entire posture glitching like someone had just slammed the brakes in his mind. One second, he was locked and loaded, ready to destroy me in ways the Geneva Conventions would frown upon, and the next, I had pulled the rug out from under his feet. His big, green eyes scanned my face like he was double-checking for signs of brain injury. "Are you--" he choked out, disbelieving; "--fucking kidding me?"
I gave him a teeny tiny little shrug. "What?" I asked, blinking sweetly. "I'm just saying... Respectfully, of course, that even though you're my dom, and even though we've done a few things here and there, that I'm still shy. It's been a while for me, y'know."
Roman stared at me like he wanted to scream into a pillow, or kiss me hard enough to leave teeth marks. Possibly both. His knuckles were white against the wood; "Respectfully?" he repeated, dangerously quiet.
"Very respectfully," I said, lifting my Coke again like a toast. "Sir." I took a long, icy sip while he stood there, seething, recalibrating for the second time today.
Roman sat back down like gravity had forced him into it, the chair groaning faintly beneath the weight of his frustration. He didn't just sit-- he dropped, spine stiff, hands braced on the arms like they were the only thing keeping him from reaching across the table and dragging me into his lap and spanking me blue. His tie was slightly askew now, and his hair looked like he had run his fingers through it one too many times-- he was, in every visible way, undone. "I am buying you lunch," he said, flatly gesturing toward my Caesar salad like it was suddenly an exhibit in a trial. "You are currently eating a lunch I paid for. It's the same shit."
"Oh, is that what this is?" I said, gently tapping my fork to the edge of my plate. "I thought it was a peace offering after you stole my underwear."
Roman closed his eyes like he needed to mentally search for his will to live. "I should've hired the candidate before you. You're smug, you're disobedient, you're infuriating, you're a fucking brat--" Roman dragged a hand down his face. "And now," he added, voice fraying at the edges. "You apparently want me to court you? Take you out to dinner?"
I pretended to consider that for a moment. "I mean, technically, I'm already courted. Just... maybe stop stealing my underwear like a pervert and commit to one proper evening. I hear Nobu takes last-minute reservations for billionaires with anger management issues,"
Roman stared at me, and then, finally, he huffed a low laugh. "I'm going to ruin you," he said, quiet and sure, the kind of promise that made heat pool low in my belly. "You're not getting away with this plan of yours unscathed. Be aware of that."
... Didn't expect any less.
I smiled, soft and excited, as I stabbed my last piece of romaine. "Can't wait, sir,"
Roman stared at me, his knuckles flexing lightly against the arms of the chair. I expected another retort, something cutting, maybe obscene, but instead... he went quiet. He leaned back slowly, bracing himself like the air had gotten too thick. His jaw moved like he was debating what to say, and then, almost... timid, like he couldn't believe he was saying it, he muttered; "Okay. It's a date,"
I blinked.
Oh?
Oh.
A date? Hold on. This part of my plan didn't seem so terrifying in my head, but now? Oh, I was screwed.
Roman's green eyes flicked to mine and back to the skyline, as if he couldn't quite look at me now. "Nobu sucks. I know a better place," A pause. "Or... y'know, whatever," He scratched the side of his neck; "... Whatever."
The air between us shifted-- I hadn't thought about this part, not to this extent. Roman wasn't just mad anymore. He was actually taking me to dinner.
In the midst of my evil plan, my revenge, my plotting and scheming, I had somehow... secured a date with Roman Godfrey.
(a/n: oh y'all are not ready for what's about to come.... it all goes up and down from here (get it?) (ok sorry bad joke lol) ANWAYYY THANK U FOR READING THIS FARRRR!!<3)
This show gets crazier with every ep and i could not be happier <3
I like how the show begins with a peek into Thee and Mok's relationship. They're friends but they can't be. I think Mok is a really good bodyguard because he really cares, at a level deeper than just professional, about Thee and his well being.
My babie is so delulu i love him 😭🫶🏼
Jesus Christ, his family is a killjoy in the truest sense. The tension in the room and Thee's inner struggle is very visible. And since i haven't said it once till now in this post, Pond's acting is amazing he is nailing this.
Oh he's in deep, naming an entire line of perfume after the love of his life <3
Oho, the perfume or the Peach? 🤭
Okay I'll give his mom the benefit of doubt since she does encourage him to love
THE DANCING SCENE. I've already screamed about it in this post and i have no more words for it 1111/10 possible favourite scene of the entire series. I loved it so much i learnt to gif just for this (here).
(OKAY SO i saw this entirely by accident but in the 1st shot, in the background there's a family portrait and there are FOUR PEOPLE THERE. I haven't read the novel but i got some spoilers so is the 4th person who think it is???)
Damn this man is down bad. We love a simp in this house <3
I love how Mok answers to only 2 (3?) people and one of them is the man his boss is simping over <3
Thee: but I'd die if something happened to you in the war *hand to forehead like a Victorian maiden*
Peach: ...literally what war -_-
WE ARE FLASHBACKS. Corporate needs you to find the difference between these two pictures
Outside taking off his tie makes him feel naked, but inside the house all he wears is a silk robe. Yeah, that checks out. (He is my babie and i will kill everyone in the room and then myself if anything happened to him.)
LOOK AT THAT SMITTEN SMILE he's so cute please how is Peach not already babying him
Peach, babe, i say this with all the love and affection in my fujoshi heart, you're already in love with that crazy soapie baby mafia man <3
Some things to say about this shot. *deep breath*
Your Honour, it's a match made in heaven.
As an introvert who's good at one random thing and has 101 hobbies she can never really master, Peach is so so close to my heart.
This line changes the entire direction the narrative seemed to initially take. See, before, Peach was this really nice but straightforward person with so many people around him who really love and admire him, but now you realize, at the core of it all, Peach is very similar to Thee. He lives alone, has only his sister – sometimes – to talk to and all he does is work, play some handpan by himself and sleep.
At this moment, Peach starts seeing Thee just a little differently. The chasm between them becomes an inch shorter.
Oh and thanks to our resident colour specialist @respectthepetty i noticed that the entire frame is blue except that corner of that red painting there.
Or maybe I'm just talking outta my ass who knows <3
THIS WAS SUCH AN ADORABLE MOMENT PLEASE
"This one wouldn't have a home" Thee, the cutest mafia you will ever see. I may sound like a broken record but goddamn Pond is really really good as Thee.
Again, Peach takes Chao Bwu (silly face) from a red cap and pins it on Thee's red tie
Peach looks so slayy here please (anyone else here waiting for Thee to absolutely decimate that asshole Wiwid so not even his pinky can ever be found? 👀🫶🏼)
And you know he counted the exact minutes and seconds
Who's gonna tell him 😶 (he's so cute please, the little added "like me")
The music in this scene was so awesome.
*hard thriller music when the camera turns to Thee*
*soft, serene music when the camera turns to Peach*
Reminds me of that meme music that keeps playing in my head but I can't articulate it – that *fast paced music* contrasted with the *lullaby music* you know the one
ALSO that moment when Thee grabs Peach's hand to place on his own 🥹
That moment when Peach got the flashback hurt me physically, but my babie Thee rectified that error so fast 🙂↕️🥹🫶🏼
Mok is the real MVP of this show. He basically runs the entire company.
First hints of "R" 👀
Thee basically appeared out of thin air my god 😭
This is one of my absolute favourite scenes (my new header <3)
This whole sequence has some of the best cinematography I've ever seen
THEE IS LEARNING. The way he gets upset even thinking about making Peach upset he loves that boy so much i hope they get to kiss and cuddle soon 🥹🫶🏼
The way Thee hesitates but Peach doesn't. It's so childish and playful and Peach is healing Thee's heart one piece at a time.
I love this last shot especially. It's ingrained in my brain.
See how their shadows almost cross?? The entire narrative in this single shot is just unbelievable
If you made it this far, thank you so much 🥹🫶🏼
Here, have a 🍓
(This took me so long to coordinate between my phone and tab my gods 😵💫)
Summary: Luciana, a highly experienced and tough nurse (ex-Red Cross) working in a busy ER, is haunted by traumatic memories from her past humanitarian work in a war zone. One day, during a shift, she is suddenly overwhelmed by flashbacks of a deadly battlefield, reliving the chaos, pain, and loss she witnessed, which causes her to have a panic attack. Thankfully, Jack is there to pull her back.
Warnings: PTSD, panic attacks, war, injuries. Luciana is Latina, so a few words are in Spanish. English is not my main language.
Word count: 2.4k
A/N: it's been a while since I wrote something but I was inspired after watching the Pitt. Also, this is my first time writing in englsih, so forgive my grammar.
Hope you like it!!!
Gif de emziess
Sometimes, the noises are enough to drag her back—ironic because she works in a place where silence is a pipe dream. If she can’t stand the noise, she shouldn’t work in an ER, but she does and now has to pay the price.
This does not always happen; after all, she’s been in The Pitt for years. What dragged her to the past today was a combination of shouting and the wind hitting the doors. She was so concentrated on looking at the board, analyzing the patients while searching for an opportunity to clear more beds, that she was startled when the wind hit the glass door.
The only thing she can hear is her heart beating strongly and her rapid breaths, but her mind isn’t in the PItt anymore. She’s back in hell, the heat of an explosion surrounding her, making it hard to breathe, bullets everywhere, and the only thing she sees is blood.
Blood in her clothes, in the sand, in her body.
Blood pouring from a soldier’s leg
“Stay with me!” she hears herself screaming. “Don’t close your eyes!”
She acted fast, making a tourniquet with her belt and using her shirt to bandage the wound. She needs to get him out of here. They were in the open in the middle of a battle between soldiers and terrorists, so she grabbed his arms and tried to ignore his screams while she dragged him to hide behind a vehicle.
“Where the hell is our backup?!” she screams to another soldier. They needed to get the hell out of there if she wanted to save the wounded.
From a distance, another scream, a familiar one. Miles, a senior doctor, the one who recruited her was now dead. One second, he was helping a soldier, the next he was on the sand with a bullet hole between his eyes.
This was supposed to be another humanitarian mission, like the many others they did in the past; they weren’t even soldiers. They were sent to a small village to help the women and children, the military was just there for protection.
This was supposed to be an offer of peace, but it turned out to be a deadly trap, and she was in the middle of it.
Her body was on autopilot, she couldn't stop to cry over the deaths. There were lives still to be saved. From her pocket, she grabs gauze and uses it to keep the soldier alive. She prayed for the helicopter to arrive soon, the soldier needed surgery fast. The medic looked around, her eyes settling on one of the four soldiers who were still fighting, firing his gun with his right arm while his left was bleeding from a gunshot.
“Hey, you!” she shouted, “come over here!”
The soldier, not much older than her and definitely terrified, crawled faster to her side. When his eyes landed on the man on the ground, he paled.
“Fuck, that’s Abbot, our medic” the soldier, a latin boy she figured by his accent, said barely in a whisper but she managed to hear it.
“Well right now he’s my patient” she snapped, her patience running thin. “I need you to keep his leg elevated and hold pressure on the wound” she told him while looking for more bandages to cover that gunshot wound. But the soldier didn’t answer, his eyes still on Abbot’s leg - or the lack of it.
“Soldado!” She switched to spanish and finally the soldier looked at her. “Necesito que tengas elevada su pierna y hagas presión así puedo revisar tu herida. Can you do that?!”
He gave her a nod and moved quickly to help. The adrenaline was high for him as he didn’t feel the pain when the medic started to apply pressure on his arm. She used her last roll of bandage and prayed to be enough.
“Where’s our damn helicopter?” she asked again, finally getting an answer “Two minutes!”
Two minutes, one hundred and twenty seconds. A lot can happen in that time.
“Grenade!” someone shouts, and she drops to the ground, her body covering the army medic. An explosion steals the air from her lungs, and pain erupts from her side. Something hit her.
“Shit, Abbot!” the young soldier screams, grabbing the medics attention. She didn’t have time to assess the situation, see if any of them were hurt, or determine her own pain; Abbot was pale as a ghost and wasn’t responding. She quickly pressed two fingers to his throat. There was no pulse
“La puta madre” she cursed and started compressions. “Don’t you dare to fucking die, ¡¿me escuchaste?!”
You are not allowed to give up.
There’s ringing in her ears, and her vision is dizzy, but she only stops to breathe in his mouth and resumes compressions again. That’s when the wind started, making it hard to see anything, but she didn’t stop CPR. They had already lost so much, and the idea of Abbot dying under her hands was a thought she couldn’t conceive. She looked around, searching for something that could help her. She cursed, when did she let go of her medic bag? How could she be so dumb to let go of the most important thing- there it was.
“Somebody fucking get me that bag!” she shouted, hoping to be heard. If she could grab the epi, maybe she could save him.
A hand is on her shoulder, and someone is talking to her.
L-
Luci-
“Luciana!” someone’s shaking her by the arms, and suddenly she isn’t in the desert anymore, fighting to save a life.
No sand surrounded her, just concrete, and the wind wasn’t from a helicopter. She’s back in Pittsburgh, on the rooftop of the hospital where she works.
How did she get here?
“Luciana, hey, look at me” A warm hand is on her cheek, guiding her face to the person in front of her.
Brown's eyes met their mirror, and the door guarding her soul was wide open, making her feel bare under his eyes. The thought of being so vulnerable increased the panic in her veins. She’s not used to showing her feelings, always maintaining a stoic face when it comes to her problems. Luciana made empathy her armor, prioritizing other’s problems over hers. That way, her trauma keeps being deep inside and her mind would never have the time to address it.
Luciana Suarez built her personality around being a strong woman who has seen it all and doesn’t shed a single tear about it. When her eyes met Abbot’s, her walls crumbled down into tiny pieces, and her facade no longer existed, making it all worse.
“I need you to breathe,” he instructed her, as he would to any other patient, at least that was what she told herself.
But air seemed like the wrong option when her lungs were burning like a forest in the middle of the summer.
“I - I can’t” It was an impossible task, how can she calm down when everything feels like a nightmare? Her eyes might be seeing Jack in front of her, but her body is still in hell.
Suddenly she felt something cold and her mind stopped. It was unexpected, for a moment all she could feel was the heat - imaginary but nonetheless. When her eyes looked for the source, her heart stopped. A hand she’d seen too many times doing impossible procedures, had grabbed her with such gentleness and placed it on something metal.
It was a prosthetic foot. His prosthetic foot.
“Feel this?” he asked “ I’m alive, we survived”
He wanted to tell her so many things. That his moments on this very roof aren’t a debate over suicide, on the contrary, he’s grateful he’s still breathing and it’s all because of her. Because she didn’t give up on him, she fought and brought him back to the land of living. Yes, he lost his leg but that would never be her fault. Thanks to this angel - as he usually calls her in his mind -, he got to live. Fifteen extra years and plenty of opportunities.
If it weren’t for her, he wouldn’t have married his wife. He wouldn’t be alive to go home, marry Isabel, and live her last years with her. He wouldn’t have met his brother in everything but blood, Robby.
If it weren’t for her, he wouldn’t have this job that made him feel useful without putting his life in danger. He isn’t going to lie, some shifts still took a toll on him, where the death felt like a weight he was holding. Some nights, he was Atlas holding the sky on his shoulders and that’s why he goes back to the roof. And when the sun rise again, she appears and suddenly, the weight isn’t as heavy as before: she’s holding the sky with him, together.
God, she was barely a child when she saved his lame ass. She was twenty years old, a prodigy child who graduated early and just wanted to be a doctor and do humanitarian work he discovered after waking up in a foreign hospital.
Definitely an angel.
As soon as he opened his eyes and learned the news - learned what he’d lost -, she visited him. In his pain, he was surprised: the person who saved him was a young girl… in a wheelchair. A bullet to her back, she had to be operated on twice to get the remains off or she could risk being paralyzed for life.
She was badly hurt while saving his life and she told him all that with a little smile. In the beginning, he hated that smile. How can she be fine after all that? He lost part of his leg and already felt like his life was ending - it took him a very long time, with the help of his therapist and his wife, to make peace with this new and broken body.
It took him a few years to realize she was broken too.
He hates to see his salvation hiding the pain behind a smile, hoping nobody would notice. But he did and did nothing about it: maybe it was because Luciana was too stubborn to accept help and he didn’t know how to act on these feelings. He remembered when he saw her again, a few years ago, when she started working at The Pitt. The world stopped but his heart started beating again after a long time. Regret filled his heart at his cowardice, guilt swimming in his heart.
Jack let himself be used to toeing between the lines: between being colleagues and something more. He already has a soft spot for her, everyone knows it. Always praising her for her good work, or consolating her when the shift was being a nightmare. He even let his fingers graze her every now and then, a small act of selfishness for his heart. But that was it. When the opportunity of doing something else, of doing something more crossed his mind, he closed the door.
Oh how Jack wished to go back in time, but that was just a fantasy. So, in return, he vowed to not be that version of himself anymore.
A hand brushing the scar on her back made her open her eyes - she didn’t know when she closed them. It took her a few seconds to remember what was happening, her mind shut down when she met the cold of-
Jack
She lifted her gaze and there he was, still looking at her like he could read her mind and maybe he could as he managed to bring her back.
“Hey”
“Hola” Jack speaking Spanish almost makes her smile again, and he relaxed slightly. “¿Estas bien?”
When did the wind stop?
Lu took a deep breath, something that felt impossible moments ago, and cleaned her tears with her hand. “A little peachy,” she said, giving him a small smile “Sorry you had to come”. The hate of being a burden was burning her throat.
“Don’t” he interrupted her. “You are not a burden to me, Luciana”. How did he know? She swears every time his eyes found hers, he could read her mind.
She hid her face in his chest and strong arms involved her. She’s not used to opening up about her problems, even though her therapist told her plenty of times that she shouldn’t be embarrassed about her feelings.
She protected her heart because it was too big for her own sake: she felt too much about everything, a curse rather than a gift. That’s why she hid her true feelings, she doesn’t want to suffer.
Maybe that’s why she did nothing about her feelings for Jack. He would never hurt her, she knows that, but what if they weren’t ready? What if she was too much? She would never recover from the bleeding.
“Damm my heart” she murmured, still between his arms. Her hand was still on the prosthetic, the cold metal grounding her
“Hey, don’t be hard on yourself” he rests his chin on top of her head, his fingers running small circles on her scar.
“Jack, I got a panic attack from a little wind, don’t tell me that’s normal”
A hand on her cheek brought her back to the starring contest (when she loses every time).
“You have PTSD, just like I have. You told me plenty of times that there’s nothing wrong with that”.
It’s okay to be broken sometimes.
He hugged her again, knowing she still needed the contention. They stayed like that, feeling each other heartbeat while watching the sunset. That’s when she grabbed the courage.
“I was searching for a place like this”
“A rooftop?” that made her laugh and for Jack it felt like heaven.
“No, tonto. I mean in a metaphorical sense. I was looking for a place to finally wake up and be the full version of myself”
“And where’s that?” he asks, but his eyes are shining like he knows the answer.
“Here, between your arms” there, she finally said it.
“It was time you let me hold the weight with you” he placed a kiss on her forehead and that almost made her cry again “and I intend to do it for as long as you have me”.
“¿Y si digo para siempre?” she asked in her mother language, can’t help but feel a little insecure. She just asked him forever and they haven’t even-
“Then forever it is” and he kissed all her insecurities goodbye.
Another week has passed and a brand new episode's out YESSS!!! Yall already know I'm always up for my Saturday Morning Cartoon (TM). Let's see what we got this time—
*dramatic gasp*
......chat, is it arc time? Has the math finally come to this?? (moot, you might've actually called it fr)
(the following is my live reaction:)
That's-a so nice! haha, how can I not love the intro :)
OH Meggy, you good? I certainly didn't expect it to start like this
it kinda reminds me the start of "Enough is Enough" ngl (let's just hope nothing terrible happened)
wait, was the last episode the actual start? Or is it this one? 🤔 Well, either way that was pretty good to bring her job searching back. And seamless from the silly episodes if this one was the start
ah yes, experience.... *job war flashbacks*
"lab rat assistant" and that's the lesson for the day, folks: always read the fine print
LOBOTOMIES?! 😦 we already had one of the Crew go through that, Meggy. Let's not.... we gotta go.... *tiptoe toward the exit*
when I said I love found family, I didn't expect this. welp, E Gadd's her grandpa now 👍
good question :) (<- also said by E Gadd, most likely)
also also *WHEEZE* I shouldn't be laughing and that bit shouldn't be as funny as it should be, but it got me. Dementia -> forget what the test was for, that was good
an awfully large remote, that is
HUH???!?!?
wha... how... huh???? I mean, I know it's E Gadd's inventions and all, but can they actually co-exist?
aw Leggy misses Puzzles, huh
🫵 WOTFI '24 AND MEMEWAVE FLASHBACK
huh? why can't she stand up?
Leggy's stronger?! well, didn't expect that tbh
EMERGENCY MEETING 🚨
ay, the star trio's here!!!
can we just take a second to appreciate this? :)
and it certainly reminds me of a certain AU hmmm
Mario: "That was easy!" You can say that again, dude
4, hun, love you and you're one of my fave characters however uh. you haven't exactly been gentle with Leggy, given the previous times. With kids, oh yeah dad mode. With Leggy, wellll *shrug*
THAT POV THO *WHEEZE*
I'm making a gif outta that
aw 4, you tried
dang, that was pretty good, 3
weakness, huh? *sees the ramen* fair enough (<- is broke college student)
this frame means everything to me:
also the fact 4 does the bare minimum taking care of himself but more concerned for his friends instead......
those handcuffs aren't gonna work, bro
oh hey, Bob! any crimes today :D
she pulled off a Snoopy haha
Mario spacing out for a sec is such a mood
BOOPKIN'S OLD MODEL
waitwaitwait, hang on a second....
purple subtitles? *looks at you* purple?
(eh, I'm sure that's an editing mistake but. purple? 👀)
wha. Puzzles?
DANG 4, that was a pretty good voice impression ngl
alright first off, to get this out of the way: two sides, same coin
and two: very interesting that each 4 and Puzzles have a black and white view of the other, when they're said coin. They share many parallels and probably if circumstances align, they would've come to an understanding. Would they tho? As things stand now, not likely
Honestly, that's reasonable and I love that we're getting to address this for her
a tv station? you don't say 👀
that door's familiar (no, not the boarded-up one in the Castle. From WOTFI '24 arc)
Meggy: "I don't plan on fighting. But I have to do this." Nah, she's right! Leggy's a part of her, she has to deal with this herself
that little animation bit of the star trio taking a step back, it's so silly to me :)
well, same dartboard where Puzzles last left it, just less sharp things
👏👏👏
This, right there, I love it!! Things aren't as black and white, things are left unaddressed. Just as the rest of the Crew has, Meggy went through so much and isn't able to acknowledge it, accept it. Whether the circumstances didn't let her or did it herself intentionally, she's suppressing it. Like she said, this isn't a fight. And I find it interesting that this conversation feels like an adult explaining thing to their child. Not saying that it is, Meggy and Leggy are one of the same, but it is bringing terms into an understanding. Especially with our own conflicts, I'd say this is pretty natural. (<- I'll talk about this more)
🫵 LAWYER MEGGY MENTION (sorry, ace attorney brain go brrrr)
Hmmm, okay. I can already sense a bad feeling about this. She did say she'll consider it tho, that doesn't automatically mean she's all onboard
She's whole again, YAY!!
ofc 4's freaking out about this deal
I feel like this convo is gonna come back somehow
:O This screenshot says a lot
"Fruity personality" Alright, how many of you posted this? Also, the one in the Team who decided to add this, c'mon 'fess up too. Either way, glad we're on the same page and by the end of pride month no less. I mean, it was pretty obvious
also I'm going to be analytical about these charges there in a second
Hold on, is it just me or is Meggy's gasps a bit pitched up like Leggy's? They're the same person, yes, but I still got questions
Wait, did Meggy not know? Definitely knows that Puzzles' in jail but not the sentencing?
And that cut to black is how y'know it's an arc
Congrats to MovArtss for your art being featured at the end credits 🎉 look at the Crew :D
.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.
Well, chat, looks like we're officially entering an arc! Y'know what that means :) a bunch of teasers, theories, and ofc bingo AAAAAAA I'm so hyped!! This was a really episode and while it was short, I very much enjoyed it. Team, as always, incredible work. The writing, dude, oh that was great.
Now, yall remember when I said I had a bad feeling? I could sense that the fandom would have mixed reactions about the end there. It's only natural that I would be aware of it, being my role and all, and I thought I should give my two-cents:
Some aren't happy at the fact that Meggy's getting another arc, others more so at the fact that she would agree to do the deal. I could sense the torches and pitchforks coming for me, but I'll say it: I think this arc is necessary for Meggy.
And some of you might be thinking, "didn't Meggy say in WOTFI '24 that Leggy's gone? Why did they have to bring her back?"
Well, I can only explain it in the only way I know how, through my terms: If you think about it, this is the goop!4 but for Meggy.
Just as 4 has the goo, Leggy never truly left. Leggy is the physical manifestation of her flaw: seeing the good in people and bringing justice. She always had this flaw but it has a form now. While the flaw itself is not a bad thing, it doesn't necessarily mean it's good either. It's learning how to manage it, know when it's right to act upon it. For Meggy tho, this would be the challenge for her. Follow my train of thought here:
(1) Leggy is a side of Meggy she's yet to connect with. The previous times, Meggy and Leggy exactly don't correlate with the other. Meggy's only been able to see some of Leggy's memories, but not the other way around. The switch up between forms only really happens through force, never voluntarily.
(2) According to this episode, only the Meggy part of the whole experienced the harsh stuff and therefore she can't fully move on without Leggy. Like I said before, Meggy's suppressing her trauma whether she does it intentionally or circumstances aren't letting her process it. If her suppression is influencing her flaw to the decisions she makes, Leggy would naturally refuse to accept that Puzzles isn't as good as he seems. Again, Leggy doesn't see Meggy's memories. In order for Meggy as whole to move on, she would have to process her trauma -> challenges her flaw/accept the truth -> Can finally move on. It's why I thought it was good to have a scene of Meggy trying to explain things with Leggy.
(3) Meggy's reaction to Puzzles' sentencing is very interesting to me bc how much did she know before? The basic level is that she knew he was in jail and hoped he would get some help, but to what extent was she aware of the conditions he was in? Did any of the Crew know? That's the question isn't it, huh.
(4, and let's just hope tumblr doesn't shut this post down) Speaking of sentences, I'm assuming the list of charges at the ending were the ones Puzzles was convicted of, as in guilty. Legally, I have to say that I am not a criminal justice lawyer and whatever I say isn't 100% correct. That being said, I'm gonna overanalyze a cartoon when it's absolutely not necessary :D
if my observation isn't correct, a few charges were left out such as kidnapping and second-degree murder. It could be that the court has decided to not go along with these charges due to the lack of evidence or word of the jury. As for the sentencing itself, I truly can't give a number as it depends on factors such as: on the country these crimes were committed, severity of each charge, court proceedings, and the judge themselves. And ofc, no one knows Mushroom Kingdom law (in a digital world where death isn't the same as ours, mind you), so I wouldn't pass by them to give Puzzles in death row. At the very least, he's sentenced to "life in prison".
As silly as the SMG4 universe is, the justice system's pretty iffy (terrible even). Ace Attorney, is that you? No law is perfect but it's really telling that Meggy, someone who learned from said system to become a lawyer, to be shocked at Puzzles sentence. Well, for all we know, her reaction could be that the sentencing doesn't line up with the charges, or she didn't know about the conditions itself. And what exactly happened in the beginning of this episode? She didn't read the fine print. Hmm, it's too early to jump to conclusions.
(5) Meggy, and by extension the Crew, doesn't know what we know. Hell, we don't even know what the Team plans. The Crew doesn't know Puzzles recruited WPNZ and plans to break out in order to execute his revenge plan. We don't even know if Puzzles is in his cell rn. And this is definitely going to be brought back somehow.
Hopefully my train of thought made sense. Now, does her reaction automatically mean Meggy forgives Puzzles? No. Does it mean Puzzles would redeem himself? Not now, at least. I could sense that this arc would touch upon the redemption topic, just as I talked about it in previous posts. Meggy already tried persuading Puzzles to redeem in WOTFI, he refused. It's gonna happen again but with some major consequences.
If I could imagine a scene, here's how I see it: as part of the deal, Lawyer Meggy would meet up with Puzzles. Naturally, he's not going to be happy to see her, WOTFI '24 being some sort of betrayal, and might even be confused why she's here if the Crew seems overjoyed leaving him here. She might explain what her reaction was all about and why she's here with him. This time, there's no WOTFI or super abilities. Face to face, just as civilized and ordinary they can be. Besides, she would have questions of her own and there's no point in fighting to hide the truth now, is there? At a certain time, she might propose a deal that she would review his case in exchange for something from him in return. Perhaps some form of jail therapy or something, whatever it may be that Puzzles wouldn't go after the Crew again. Puzzles could outright refuse but it would be interesting to see him contemplate it and stay silent. Maybe Meggy would ask lastly before leaving, if he had any regrets, and even then he wouldn't answer. Leggy, perhaps optimistic as a voice inside her head, might think Puzzles would accept bc he's good. But they don't know what we know, that Puzzles recruited WPNZ and is all set on revenge. After all, it's on thing to receive help, it's another to accept it. "I have to change" versus "I want to change". He'll break out, his way of refusal, and Meggy might take his decision as final bc it's not like she can force him. Even if she knew what Puzzles went through. Who am I to say? I simply could see this prison breakout being a major turning point for Meggy and confront her trauma. Also having potential to explore more of Puzzles' past.
In short, for the regulars here, this is if redemption talk was explored in an arc, which I'm all for it.
Anyway, all this is why it took a while to get this review out there. Was any of this what the writers intended? Probably not. But I wanted to be careful how to word what I wanted to express, so I hope what I said is understandable. I might talk more about redemption in another post. Regardless, I know not everyone's satisfied with this but please don't go after the writers/Team. The arc just started after all, have a bit of grace for them. As I like to say, LET THEM COOK!! Anyway, that's all from me. I'll see you all on the next one and remember: numbers always go first!!
Welp, looks like writer me got carried away again. Whoops. But wouldn't y'know it? LAWYER MEGGY IS BACK YESSS!! I wished for that to come back for so long 😭 Also unlike Meggy, 4 isn't as willing to face his problems. He ain't even looking at them. As evident, goop!4. His turn will come, I'm sure. Hmm, but now that I think about it. The Crew now knows about Puzzles' hideout, he might need to find a new one if he's gonna be careful with his revenge plan. New building perhaps.....
Summary: Being separated from one another had taken it's toll and the search had been hard but in all the darkness, a glimmer of hope remains
Warnings: Mentioned canon-typical violence, swearing, my made-up timeline, limited use of y/n, some choice interrogation techniques, sad flashbacks, mentions/descriptions of torture, mentions of death, mentions/descriptions of injury and sickness, reader is not in the greatest of headspaces and takes it out on Lyra, talks of self-sabotage/sacrifice and self-loathing, my interpretation of all things Force, dodgy Star Wars medical techniques, slight manipulation/miscommunication, kissing, overall a pretty angsty time but there's some fluff sprinkled in
Masterlist for S1 and S2
Word Count: 18.2K (don't look at me, idk what happened lol)
Rating: 18+
Author's note: Huge shoutout and thanks to my friend @burningfieldof-clover who supported and provided many helpful tips as I struggled though this!! And its finally here! I am so sorry it took so long but I hope you all enjoy it despite the wait! I have another one planned to follow that hopefully will not take as long haha so I'm excited to get to work on that too! Also praying that by posting this, I can manifest a S3 trailer haha
Nelvaan
Ever since the disaster of Ord Mantell and from the second they’d managed to flee; Hunter had been doing everything he could to find you and Omega again. He’d tormented himself with the various possibilities of what could be happening to the two of you. Every day he’d been apart from you both had seen him fighting with himself. Possible informants and Imperial soldiers he could cope with just fine, what had been proving to be a struggle was fighting the complete hopelessness that had overwhelmed him as the weeks dragged on with no sign or information on the whereabouts of either of you. Every failed lead had left the bitter taste of disappointment and there were times when he felt like he would be crushed by the weight each defeat brought.
Things had started to shift however when they came across the various wanted posters and holoimages of you that were strewn across the galaxy, particularly in the Outer Rim. So, when Echo had decided to do some work on his own and went back to working with his contacts within the Empire and reported back that you hadn’t actually been taken, he’d felt that flicker of hope he hadn’t been able to find for a long time and the plan changed. Echo would continue to utilise his allies in the search for Omega whilst he and Wrecker looked for you. Once Hunter had you back, the four of you would reconvene and find Omega.
To get to Omega, they needed your skills and… and Hunter just needed you but there were moments in the early stages of the search where it seemed impossible. Knowing you were out on your own helped with finding his way out of the darkness but knowing you were alive and finding you alive were very different things, the latter was proving to be incredibly challenging.
You may had stopped hiding what you were, but you were remarkably good at making an impression somewhere but still finding a way to go unseen. Every location they’d gone to, they’d been too late, and you appeared to have moved on. You never stuck around anywhere for too long and it was making things a lot harder.
The most recent trail of half-baked information he and Wrecker had followed had led them to this pawn shop- ‘Hidden Gems’. According to rumour, you’d been in asking about them, yet another piece of knowledge that only added to his frustration that they always seemed to miss you by a matter of weeks. Hunter opened the door, but the owner’s back was still turned to them as they pashed the threshold.
Kedrin heard the bell clang as the door opened and shut. “I’ll be with you in a flash.” He said as he finished writing up the recent sales. He closed the book and turned around with a salesman smile on his face, but that and his words of welcome instantly died on his lips as he saw who had walked in.
Immediately upon seeing these men, Kedrin was reminded of a description given to him a while ago by the Jedi everyone had been talking about and he did not want them here. He did not want to deal with this anymore. “Ah, well actually gentlemen, I was just closing up for the afternoon. You’ll have to come back.” He said, wringing his hands nervously as the bigger one split off and began wandering the shop whilst the one with the bandana stayed where he was.
Hunter leaned his back against the door and lazily played with his vibroblade. He knew by the beads of sweat on the owner’s brow and the anxious pounding of his heart that they were in the right place. “Where is she?” He asked, his voice low and hostile as he turned the sign from open to closed, his eyes never leaving the owner.
Kedrin retreated to behind the counter. “I um…” His throat was as dry as sand and he swallowed to get some moisture back so he could speak properly. “I don’t know who-” He cleared his throat again. “Who you are referring to. Perhaps-”
“There’s not point in lying to him. If I can tell you are, he definitely can.”
Kedrin’s eyes darted to the bigger one who had offered the advice, but he had to bring his attention back to the tattooed soldier who was staring at him with such cold and dark eyes that fear creeped up his spine, making his hair stand on end and goosebumps rise on his flesh.
“Where is she?” Hunter asked again as he pushed off the door and steadily walked towards the man.
“I’m- I’m afraid I don’t- don’t have the answer you seek.” Kedrin stuttered. As the soldier drew closer, Kedrin reached under the table and grabbed the blaster he kept concealed there. But, as he lifted it out, in the blink of an eye, the weapon was shot out of his hand and his head was smacked down and being pressed harshly into the countertop- a strong hand on the back of his neck reducing his struggles to break free to be no more than a pitiful effort. His resistance ceased altogether when he felt the sharp tip of a blade being pushed into the back of his hand and he cried out in discomfort as the metal broke the skin and blood began to spill from the cut but there would be no respite for him.
“Try again.” Hunter hissed as he brought his head down to the man’s level.
But all Kedrin could do was whimper in pain.
“She was here. We know she was here. Where did she go?” Hunter growled into his ear, applying more pressure to the point of the blade, ignoring the agonised yelp.
“I don’t know!” Kedrin protested in distress, his voice slightly muffled as his lips touched the cold material of the counter. He hated this part of the job, it wasn’t his fault he had access to other ports of information, it just worked out that way and for the most part he hadn’t gotten into too much bother. But ever since that Jedi woman had come to him with her threats, he’d vowed to himself that he would turn over a new leaf. He’d leave this element of his work behind, and he wouldn’t just be a pushover to whatever or whoever came in demanding his extra services. He felt the hand leave the back of his neck. He uneasily straightened up and tenderly analysed his injury on his hand but was grateful to see that it had felt and looked worse than it was. He took out a handkerchief from the lapel of his jacket and wrapped it up before he tidied his hair in an attempt to regain some calm and control over the situation. “Now, I ask that you leave this instance before I call the proper authorities.” He demanded, but he couldn’t shake the quiver in his speech which removed any forcefulness. He walked around the counter and gestured to the door.
Hunter ignored his requested. He simply took a step back and nodded sharply to Wrecker who cracked his knuckles and neck in intimidation.
Well, he could always start next week. “Wait wait wait! I actually might have something!” Kedrin back peddled fearfully as the larger one stalked towards him and grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket, raising him to his tiptoes. “My brother runs our partner pawn shop on Christophsis and he’s said there’s been Jedi activity there. Apparently, it’s been going on for a while now. Could be who you’re looking for?”
Wrecker glanced back at Hunter who signalled to him to drop the man.
Hunter silently turned on his heels and led the way out of the shop and back to the Marauder. He’d been powerless for far too long and had failed one too many times but that wasn’t going to happen anymore.
This time they weren’t going to miss you.
--
Christophsis
When the hour had finally got late enough, you grabbed your blaster and sheathed your vibroblade and made the final adjustments to your armour before you sneakily opened your door to dark and empty main room of the run-down apartment. You pulled your hood and mask up as you stepped out and headed for the exit.
You got as far as activating the panel for the door to open before the lights turned on.
“You’re going out again.”
You closed the door and huffed out an irritated breath. You swivelled on your heels to see Lyra standing in the doorway of her room. You tugged down your mask. “Yeah… and?”
“And I thought after the last time, you were going to take some time and-”
“You know I can’t do that.” You interrupted icily.
“You’ve barely recovered. I just think-”
“I’ve recovered enough.”
“It’s just one more night. If not for your sake, then do it for mine… please.”
“We’ve already settled here for you, didn’t we?” You retorted.
“After I begged you too! If it were up to you, we’d still be living on that hellhole of a ship and never staying anywhere for more than two weeks! And I don’t know if what we have right now is all that better!”
“I gave you an out months ago! Back on Ord Mantell and again on Corellia! You didn’t have to follow me!” You snapped angrily.
Lyra scoffed. “Corellia was when you finally deemed it fit to fill me in on the whole story after I saw you choke the life out of a man without laying a hand on him. I had known something was off in the weeks since Ord Mantell and then Corellia told me you needed someone. Forgive me if I wanted to stick around to try to help you!”
“I don’t need saving.” You said tightly. “And anyway, he got what was coming to him.” You said utterly uncaring with a simple shrug of your shoulders. “Now, can I go now? Are you done scolding me?”
Lyra looked at you imploringly. “Don’t you see what this is doing to you? You’re losing who you are and it’s-”
You couldn’t listen to the speech again. “I’m not doing this with you again, Lyra. Just go back to bed and I’ll be back later.”
Lyra looked at you in disbelief. “Later? Last time you said that I didn’t see you for three weeks and you came back tortured and half-dead! You’re no good to them if you die in the process of finding them!”
You just shook your head and lifted your mask and turned to open the door again.
“I can’t watch you kill yourself for this anymore.” Lyra said quietly to your back, her words laced with pity and sadness.
“Then don’t look.” With that, you stepped outside into the night.
--
Kirion stepped into the small kitchen in the back of his shop and sifted through the second cupboard. Instinct meant he didn’t need the light and he found what he was looking for.
“Trouble sleeping?”
Kirion yelped and dropped his mug. It smashed to the ground but that was not his concern anymore. The dark outline by the window was. “I don’t want any trouble.” His voice trembling.
“Do you know what they say about people who can’t sleep at night, Kirion?” You asked as you hopped off the counter, the yellow hue of the streetlights coming through the window illuminating your figure.
“N- no.”
“Plagued by a guilty conscience. The crushing weight of knowing you’re not doing enough, or you’ve gone too far can get to you. Or say, being a pawn shop owner intent on ripping everyone off for that extra bit of profit.”
Kirion cleared his throat nervously. He didn’t know how you knew that, but you’d gathered quite the reputation in the time you’d lived here, and he didn’t want you around. “Why are you here then?” He asked shakily. “Guilty conscience too?”
You laughed humourlessly. “You get the pleasure of my company because you have something for me.” Somewhere deep down, you had a different answer, but you wouldn’t allow yourself to bring that to the surface. It would get you nowhere.
“I don’t. I swear I-”
“Oh, this’ll go a lot better if you don’t lie to me.” You said, your voice hardening. You patted him roughly on the shoulder as you stepped past him.
“I don’t know if I have the information you’re looking for.”
“You know who I am?” You flicked the light on and waltzed into the storefront filled with clear glass cases with various pawned off items. Heirlooms, artifacts, jewellery, random items- all seemed to have a place here, whether they were genuine or not. You beckoned him to come in.
“It’s um kind of hard not to.” He wringed his hands anxiously as he followed you in and signalled to the front of the store. He took that opportunity to press the button under the table by the credit register.
You followed his stare and chuckled as you saw the backs of the posters in the front window. “I can sign one for you later.” You started scanning variety of items he possessed. “Quite the business you’ve got here.”
“Keeps-” He swallowed nervously. “Keeps the credits coming in.”
“Shame a lot of it is all garbage.” You smashed your elbow against one of the glass panels. “Anakin Skywalker’s lightsaber?” You snickered as you picked up the item and sure enough, you got nothing from it. “Please. Nothing here but a bunch of dressed up metal material and a design anyone with access to an old holonet could copy. Then again, you probably knew that, but it doesn’t stop you underpaying for it and then charging a steep fee for the poor sucker that falls for it.”
Kirion gulped as he watched you continue your assault on his store.
You shattered a few more glass panes with claims of ‘Jedi artifacts’ in them. “Some of this is just embarrassing. You actual convince people that this stuff is worth the price?”
“What do you want?” Kirion interjected swiftly as he saw you getting ready to break another one.
You paused your movement and angled yourself to face him. You mimed applause. “That’s the right question. See, you gave yourself away earlier, Kirion. I’d expect you to know who I am, but to know that I’m after information? You had no way of knowing that, not officially and it’s the fact that you do know, that makes you of use to me.”
“Of use?” Kirion repeated fretfully.
You stalked closer to the desk register, the broken glass crunching beneath your feet. “You run this place in a back alley and get everyone from all walks of life coming in here pawning off their shit that you then rip off, but I really don’t give a fuck about that. What I do give a fuck about is that you hear things. People will tell you their stories, the things they’ve seen and overheard in the streets or on their travels. You are a fountain of knowledge of the underground happenings in this galaxy. Or, at the very least, you know people that run in the circles that have what I’m searching for.
“I-”
You placed a finger on his lips to shush him. “Here’s how this will work: So long as you don’t lie to me, and you don’t call the Empire, I won’t hurt you and you get to keep your life. Are we clear?” You removed your finger.
“C-crystal.” Kirion stuttered, very much regretting what he’d done in the beginning of this meeting.
“Good.” You released a short breath. “Now, I’m looking for a group of clones. They don’t look like the ones you may come across these days, rare as that seems to be now. One wears a red bandana and has a tattoo on the left-side of his face. Looks like this.” You pointed to the white insignia on your top. “But it’s black. The other is tall and bald with a scar on his left temple and he’s blind in his left eye. Heard of anyone like that?”
“I don’t know. No one like that’s come here.” Kirion shifted his feet awkwardly.
You tossed your head back in aggravation. “I really don’t have time for this.” You summoned the Force and lifted him against the wall and started to compress his airway. “I told you; I don’t like liars.” You gave him a pitying stare as he couldn’t help but clutch desperately at his throat. “Wanna try again?” You relaxed your hold slightly to give him the chance to speak.
“Okay- they- they- could be- be- coming here.” He gasped.
“They’re coming here?” You double checked as you eased your grip and let him get his feet back on the ground.
Kirion panted as he felt the invisible hold around his neck loosen. “Yes, my other store got a visit from some men that match what you’re saying. The manager there told them there was a Jedi here and called me earlier to let me know they might pass this way. That’s all I know, please, get out!”
You narrowed your eyes at him because despite his now honest words, you could tell he was getting anxious, and it wasn’t all because of you now. It was then that you heard the familiar pounding footsteps grow closer and halt outside the front door. You released an exasperated sigh and tutted. “Kirion… I thought we had an understanding.”
“No- wait! I-”
You called on the Force and snapped his neck before he had a chance to finish his plea and a second later, you heard the door crash open.
“You’re-”
“Under arrest?” You finished as you watched Kirion’s limp body slide to the floor. You heaved a sigh and turned to face the squad of ten stormtroopers that were lining the rows and blocking the path between you and the door.
“Get-”
“On my knees? Place my hands behind my head?” You interrupted, boredom evident in your tone as you crossed your arms and leaned against the till counter.
The troopers faltered slightly at your blatant dismissiveness of them.
You pretended to look confused for a moment. “Now, I can never keep track of where the Empire is in that whole phasing out thing so I always gotta ask this- any of you got a CT number?” You straightened up and hovered your hand over your blaster. “It’s always much simpler when none of you do.”
“Last chance, Jedi!” One of them called out as they readjusted their stances.
You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “Yeah… you all say the same thing.”
--
You quietly walked into your place and pulled your hood and mask down, ignoring the sting of pain as the material caught on the cuts on the bridge of your nose and your lip. You ran your tongue along your mouth and could still taste the harsh metallic taste of blood as it continued to ooze from the wound. Your nose was also still bleeding so you turned on the dim kitchen light to find something to stop it.
“Thought you’d be outta here by now.” You commented cooly without looking up as you heard her door open, and the soft padding of footsteps walk towards you. You fished out a cloth and ran it under some cold water and wiped away the congealed blood on your face before you held it to your nose.
“We don’t have a ship anymore, remember?” Lyra reminded you as she sat by the small kitchen table.
You’d forgotten about that. After the two of you had found this place, you’d sold it to someone who claimed to have word from Hunter. Unfortunately, that had turned out to be a rather bad deal and it was your first experience of dealing with the Imperials stationed here. “There are transports.”
Lyra just shook her head at you. “You still don’t get it.”
“Don’t really see what there is to get. Just hop on the next ship outta here, I won’t stop you.”
“I care about you, dumbass. Whatever is happening to you, I can’t just leave you alone in it.” Lyra replied wearily. Part of her wanted to, she’d even started packing a bag this time, but after these months spent with you and especially after what you went through recently told her you were one step away from a full-on breakdown and whether you would admit it or not, you still needed someone.
You ground out a sigh and stared down at the floor. She kept doing this. She kept having that faith in you that you couldn’t see but you didn’t deserve it. She should leave, she’d be better off without you but you didn’t have it in you to give her that final push. So, you worked on freezing her out, pushing her away until she realised you weren’t good for her or anyone else. But she refused, she was still here with you, and you couldn’t fathom why.
“Did you get what you were looking for?” Lyra asked, deliberately avoiding asking the state of the people that had clearly got in your way tonight. She’d seen what you were capable of but found that living in as much ignorance as she could saved her a lot of trouble. That and reminding herself you were not yourself right now.
“Yup.” You rinsed out the cloth and got ready to move into your room.
“I need to check your stitches. You weren’t ready for a fight yet.”
You knew what she would find if she looked. “No, you don’t.”
“(Y/N), let me see.” Lyra caught your arm as you went to move past her.
You huffed out another irritated breath but took your armour off before you lifted your first layer over your head. “Knock yourself out.”
She pushed up your vest top. “Yeah, you ripped a few open.” Lyra winced as she saw the lines of blood secreting from the sore and irritated looking now open wounds on your back.
“It’s fine.” You said dismissively. The pain wasn’t bothering you. You needed to come up with a plan of how to know when they got here.
“It’s not. Sit down.” She insisted as she went for the medkit. She had gotten well-acquainted with the item over the months, the most recent incident in particular had really tested her skills.
You released a resigned sigh and sat across from her and let her start cleaning them and closing them up again.
“They’re coming here, Lyra.” You found yourself whispering into the silence.
Lyra paused her process. “You’ve been told that before. The same thing happened on Cermau a couple months ago and it didn’t pan out. You-”
“I know what happened on Cermau. This isn’t like that.” You said defensively. It had to be different. You thought to yourself. You weren’t sure how many more dead ends you could take.
Lyra finished up the last few stitches. “You can’t know that.”
As soon as you felt her complete that last stitch, you stood. “Yes, I can.” You grabbed your armour and strode had over to your room without another word and shut the door.
You braced your hands against it and took a few deep breaths. You did have a way you could do but it had been so long since you’d gone near it, and you didn’t know if you could cope with the failure it might bring.
--
You settled in the middle of your crappy bed, the mattress sinking to the bedframe beneath as you shifted around to attempt to find some level of comfort. When you had found what you figured would be the ‘best’ spot, you crossed your legs and placed your hands on your knees.
You inhaled slowly, deeply, blocking out all the distractions of your mind and the sounds of the late-night life outside, and closed your eyes. You reached into the Force but what met you wasn’t any familiar signature. It was scenes and voices that you had tried so hard to forget.
Flashes of the people you’d hurt… you’d killed.
All that happened to you a week ago.
Tech hanging below the rail car.
Plan 99.
Omega, unconscious and injured on the ground.
Such an exquisite creature.
The torture he made you go through... and enjoyed.
His words to Hunter- To lose one of your own, it must weigh heavily on you as their leader.
Omega being carried off.
Hemlock letting you and Hunter have one last goodbye before you were taken away.
I love you.
No, it was too much. You couldn’t do it. Your breathing was shaky as you tore yourself out. You wiped the cold sweat from your palms. “Come on, get it together.” You told yourself as you took a long calming breath. You needed to do this right.
You centred yourself and went again. Except this time, all you could see was a vast space of darkness. No light, no hope, only darkness. Was this to be your fate? To be tormented by the fact you had let yourself fall and there was nothing left for you. How could you find them in this? You had no light left in you to give.
Spark.
You felt yourself twitch in discomfort. You knew that voice. That name. Only one person ever called you that.
Spark, you’re still not focused.
Let go of your anger. You’re not as lost as you view yourself to be.
No, no it couldn’t be. How could it be? No, this wasn’t right. You pulled yourself out and you looked around your room in a blind panic as you fought to get your distressed breathing back under control.
But it was only you in there. How could you hear him? It had to be some trick your mind was playing on you. Payback for all you’d done.
You exhaled heavily and braced your hands behind your neck as you looked to the ceiling. You stood and paced the confined space, shaking your hands as if you could shake away the bad feeling sitting on your chest.
You sat back on the bed and rolled your shoulders as you found your focus again. Faint rays of sun now came through the cracks in your window along with the sound of rain pattering against the fractured glass, but the new time meant nothing to you.
You didn’t care how long it would take; you were going to find them.
--
Hunter and Wrecker walked out of the ship and departed the bay to enter the streets of Christophsis- the rain sliding down their armour as they moved between the crowds.
“Well, we’re in the right place.” Wrecker commented as he nudged Hunter in the direction of the first holoscreen that had your image appear and a quick look at the immediate buildings followed that theme since they all had multiple paper posters in their windows and on their doors.
Hunter swallowed tightly as he saw holographic picture of you. There’d been one too many ‘right places’ in his search for you. He wasn’t going to accept that philosophy until he had something more than a wanted sign for you. “Come on. We’ll start with Kendrin’s brother.”
--
“So, you’re saying you saw a figure head in that direction after the disturbance last night?” A trooper pointed in said direction as she questioned the current resident on her list whilst the rest of her squad proceeded to clear the pawnshop.
“This looks like her handiwork, Sarge.” Wrecker uttered from the corner of the street they were observing from as he studied the scene ahead. Squads of troopers had cornered off the street and where questioning the civilians that appeared to live in the neighbourhood. And being carried out on stretchers were the dead bodies of troopers, but not all had blaster burns on their armour.
Hunter nodded his agreement and felt his heart beat that little bit faster with the flutter of hope. “Come on, we can’t stay here too long.” He directed as he and Wrecker turned away from the pawnshop.
As Hunter began to track your movements based on what he’d heard the trooper say, this finally being the right location was starting to feel a lot more plausible now.
--
There it was! You saw that faint glimmer of light in all the dark. It had to be them! You could feel it!
You jumped from your bed and grabbed your top and armour, hastily putting them on as you opened your door and bolted for the exit.
--
The weather had taken a turn for the worst, but you barely registered the pouring rain as you left the building. Your clothes were already soaked but it didn’t matter, you were too focused on holding onto that feeling of them.
“You’re the Jedi everyone is searching for.”
You whipped out your blaster and turned in the direction of the voice.
“No, wait! I don’t mean you any harm!” She came out from behind the skip with her hands in the air. “My name is-”
“Don’t tell me.” You interrupted sharply as you studied the Twilek before you. “How’d you find me?” You asked coldly. You didn’t lower your blaster either.
“It wasn’t easy. I’ve been following you since I knew of your arrival here. I thought I’d lost you when you disappeared for those three weeks.”
The fact you hadn’t sensed her presence at all told you that you were not what you used to be. You never used to be so sloppy. “I can’t have you knowing where I am.” You rested your hand over the trigger.
“Wait!” She reached a hand out to you. “I haven’t told anyone, and I won’t. I just need your help!”
“My help?” You repeated. “I can’t help you and I’ve got somewhere to be so-”
“Please.” She begged. “My sister, she’s sick and we barely have enough credits to feed ourselves, let alone get medicine.”
“Not my problem, I’m sorry.” Satisfied though that she wasn’t a true threat, you put your blaster away and got ready to leave.
“It wasn’t my sister’s problem that she got caught in a blaster fight and her wound got infected! No one asks for that!”
That made you pause. You’d had your fair share of shootouts in this place but you’d also you’re your best to minimise the damage to outsiders. “Where was the fight?” You found yourself asking quietly.
“About a month ago by the old shipyard on the outskirts of the city. We’d been told we could find some cheap transport off world, but something went down with the Imperials stationed there and my sister… I didn’t tug her down fast enough. I didn’t know what to do and then I heard of the Jedi that had landed in Christophsis and I knew I had to find you.”
A month ago… but that was where and when you’d gone to sell the ship… where’d you’d first been ambushed by the Imperials… no, there wasn’t meant to be anyone else there. Maybe you could… no, you didn’t have the time. Your aim was always good, it wouldn’t have been your shot that hit her. “I can’t.” You said dismissively, but there was a fading sense of conviction in your voice. Some part of you wanted to do the right thing by her. But it wasn’t enough to stop you pushing past her.
“I thought Jedi helped people!”
You stopped in your tracks and made a noise of resigned frustration as you turned around to face the young Twilek. “Wait here.”
You hastily ran back into your building, silently entered, and grabbed a few spare medical supplies from your kit before you ran back out to meet her again. “Alright, show me.”
--
Your place looked like a luxurious penthouse compared to where this young twilek and her sister were staying. It was virtually a single room with cracks in the walls and ceiling and there was a distinct damp aroma in the air. It was no wonder that they wanted to leave this place.
You then saw the smaller and younger twilek lying on a small mattress in the middle of the floor. There were drops of sweat dotted across her brow and she was shivering uncontrollably.
You’d never wanted anyone innocent to be affected by what you were doing yet it had happened with Lyra and now this child. “I’m sorry.” You whispered to her as you kneeled down beside her. You saw the bloodstain on her clothing and delicately lifted the end of her shirt to see the wound on her hip being covered by nothing more than a ripped piece of a shirt.
“Can you help her?”
You half- turned to face the sister who was looking on fretfully. “I can clean the wound and reclose it. After that, it’ll be down to her. But the fact that she’d held on for so long is a good sign. She’s strong, she should be okay.”
The sister sighed in relief.
You brought out the supplies and recleaned and applied to bacta before you re-dressed the wound. “Do you have water?” You asked.
The sister nodded and dashed over to grab a cannister. She passed it to you.
“Lift her head.” You instructed gently.
She murmured words of comfort to her sister as she propped up her head.
As tenderly but as effectively as you could, you pushed the pill past her lips and got her to swallow it down with some water.
When her breathing had grown more controlled and her shivering had subsided, you go to your feet. “I’m leaving you some bacta and wound dressings along with some pills that’ll help with the fever. That’s all I can do now.”
“Thank you.” She clasped your hand tightly. “I won’t forget this.”
“It’s better that you do.” You said grimly. “And once she’s better, if you still need a way out of here, use the actual transports off this planet.” You chucked a bag of credits on the ground before you walked out of the room.
You rounded the corner but swiftly pressed your back against the wall since there was a group of stormtroopers directly in your path. You would have no chance of finding them with those soldiers in your way. You needed to find a way around them and what better way to do that than going from roof to roof. You summoned the Force and jumped to the top of the building and got moving.
You would get a better view from above anyway.
--
When another small squad of troopers made their presence known ahead, Hunter signalled him and Wrecker to an alleyway out of the line of their sight. He knew they were close to you, but the Imperial presence was making it hard to track you effectively.
“We can’t keep hiding like this, Hunter.” Wrecker grunted in frustration.
“I know, Wrecker.” Hunter agreed, equally as irritated. “If I could just-” He stopped suddenly.
“Hunter?”
“Someone’s here.” Hunter muttered quietly as his hand fell over his blaster.
“You’re getting sloppy, Sergeant. I’ve been following you the past 3 blocks.”
The voice that he’d been longing to hear and that was so familiar, he’d recognise it anywhere. His breath hitched with the realisation at what this finally meant. Hunter took off his helmet and turned around to the distant sound of feet hitting a puddle in the ground. And it was you. Standing there before him. It was finally you.
“Hello, Hunter.” You said softly, so softly you could barely hear the words themselves due to the sound of your own heart thundering in your ears. If it wasn’t for the flash of recognition in his eyes or the way Wrecker’s jaw dropped as he propped his helmet atop his head, you wouldn’t have been certain that you’d said anything at all. You tugged down your coverings and let yourself be unprotected to the rain.
He felt like the air had been punched out of his lungs. Hunter dropped his helmet and something akin to a choked gasp fell from his mouth as he could at long last lay his eyes on you. He started to slowly walk towards you but that soon became a run, water kicking up against him, but he didn’t care.
Your feet slapped against the wet ground as you met him halfway and crashed into his arms with a thankful sigh and buried your face in his neck. Even as you held him tightly to you, part of you still couldn’t believe that it was him. You felt something swell in your heart, a feeling you couldn’t place but knew you hadn’t felt in a long time.
Did you deserve this? Did you deserve to have him back after all you’d done? Pushing the thought away, you readjusted your embrace as if you could somehow hold him even closer.
He twisted his hands in your clothing and breathed you in. He’d imagined this moment for so long. When things seemed too dark and hopeless, he’d clung on to this. To think about how it would feel to finally see you again. To hold you again. And imagination couldn’t compare to the utter joy in his heart that reality brought him. He almost didn’t want to let you go for fear that you could be taken away again but practicality took precedence, the two of you couldn’t stay this way forever, as much as he might want to.
Tears mixed with rain streamed down both your cheeks as you parted from one another.
You cupped his face in your hands. “You’re here? You’re actually here?” You murmured, your voice cracking with emotion. You’d driven yourself crazy with picturing this moment, you needed to make sure this wasn’t your brain’s idea of a cruel joke.
Hunter removed your hands from his face and kissed your gloved knuckles. “I’m here.” He whispered back, his breathing still shaky as he pressed pressing his forehead into yours.
“You’re here.” You repeated as you looked into his soft brown eyes.
Hunter’s thumb gently caressed the cut on your lip, and he noticed the other wound on your nose. “Did they-”
You pulled his hand away. “Doesn’t matter. This is all I care about right now.”
Before Hunter could push the matter, he felt his brother approach.
“And what about me?”
You glanced past Hunter to the indignant but affectionate voice. “Hi, Wrecker.” You met his open armed invitation and let him swing your around as he hugged you.
“Good to see you, (Y/N)!”
“How’d you find me?” You asked as he placed you back down.
“You didn’t make it easy.” Wrecker griped. “We always seemed to be two steps behind you.”
“I haven’t exactly been hiding though.” You disputed as you pointed to a discarded wanted poster on the ground beside you.
“Between the Imperials and dead end leads and your rather annoying ability to hide in plain sight, it was tough. We got a lucky break with a guy whose brother owned another pawn shop here. Saw the results of a fight and figured we’d finally caught up with you.” Hunter explained as he came to stand in front of you and took his helmet from his brother.
You gulped. You’d be careful to make sure the people you’d gone after had no one they’d be leaving behind. You didn’t realise you’d messed up with that this time. “He- he had a brother?”
Hunter tilted his head at the unusually emotive response. “Apparently but I’m assuming you had a good reason for ending it the way you did.”
You coughed. “Yeah, totally.” You straightened your back and changed the subject. “Where’s Echo?”
“Using his contact to try to get more intel on Hemlock. We still don’t know where he’s holding Omega.” Hunter kicked the ground. “Don’t suppose you have anything?”
“I wish I did but everything I gathered was either old or what we knew already. He’s good at laying low.” You seethed.
“We’ll get him, though. We have too.” Wrecker stated firmly.
“How soon can you leave?” Hunter asked.
“Um, well-” You cut yourself off as your sight drifted past Hunter’s shoulder to the end of the alley at the lone trooper that had a blaster pointed at Hunter’s back.
“Watch out!” You yelled as you pushed Hunter out the way of the incoming blaster bolt. You drew your blaster and fired a shot that landed in the centre of the trooper’s chest, and he dropped to the ground. But you knew, where there was one stormtrooper, there would be at least five more behind them.
“We need to move out.” Hunter urged as he got back to his feet and put his helmet on. “A firefight will draw too much attention.”
“No time.” You stated simply as you pulled your hood and mask back up.
“We’ve got more incoming!” Wrecker confirmed as he lowered his helmet and opened fire on the small squad of troopers that had arrived.
The three of you took cover behind a skip, only firing defensive shots back. You needed to draw the soldiers closer before going on the offensive.
When they had gotten close enough, Hunter threw a smoke bomb, the action allowing the three of you to advance and take out the troopers one shot at a time.
As the firefight continued, however, you began to feel unsteady on your feet and your movements felt unbalanced. Your tingling limbs ensured that your aim was skewed too. All that, combined with the wetness you felt pooling from your stomach meant the trooper had better aim than you credited them for- you’d been hit. You couldn’t afford to think about what this meant, right now, you needed to get outta here.
But you’d been distracted long enough for one downed soldier you’d dismissed as being a threat to come around and jab their blaster against your knee. You grunted with the impact but turned your blaster on him and he lay limp on the ground.
Hunter and Wrecker tidied off the few retreating stragglers. They could deal with this small group but anything more would prove difficult.
With the last trooper taken care of, you braced yourself against the wet wall. The fading adrenaline in your system now being replaced by agony and you ripped your mask down and took deep but laboured breaths.
“Their reinforcements won’t be long. We made a bit of noise.” Wrecker said as he holstered his blaster.
But Hunter wasn’t paying attention to what Wrecker was saying. His gaze was fixed on you and the way you were struggling to hold yourself up against the wall. “(Y/N), what-” He stopped as he saw the crimson drops that mixed with the rainwater drip from the hand pressed to your stomach onto the ground. No, no, no. He thought to himself. This couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t lose you when he’d only just found you again.
Your knees buckled and you fell to the ground, Hunter catching your shoulder was the only reason you were able to stay sitting up but without the distraction of the fight, the pain was overwhelming. Black spots danced in the corners of your vision, but you couldn’t succumb to them, not now. Not after all this. You tried to lift your head to speak but all that left your mouth was a tortured groan.
As collected as he wanted to be to deal with this, he couldn’t totally keep his panic at bay. His hands trembled as he attempted to get you to look at him. He delicately brushed some loose strands of hair from your face. “Sshh, I’ve got you.” He whispered tenderly, fighting to keep the worry out of his voice. What made it all the worse was that he knew this wound didn’t occur through the fight they’d just seen out, you’d been hurt shoving him out the way of that first shot that drew the rest of the stormtroopers in.
How could he have allowed this to happen? What good were his enhanced senses if he couldn’t protect the people he loved. You shouldn’t have needed to push him out the way of that blaster bolt, he should’ve known the trooper was there and now you were paying the price for his mistake.
“What can we do?” Wrecker asked quickly.
You winced and tried for words again. “Medical centres are a no. Where’s- where’s the ship?”
“Landing bay 6.” Wrecker replied.
You inhaled sharply. Your current state made things all too easy for the Imperials to catch you making your way there. “Too far. We- we gotta get to my place. She- she might kill me but- argh!” You broke off with a cry of pain as you reached a hand up to Hunter. “But it’s safe there and- and she’ll know what to do.”
“Hold on.” Hunter rasped as he took a grip of your forearm and signalled to Wrecker to keep an eye out as he pulled you to your feet.
You pressed your hand into your side with a pained gasp as Hunter put his arm around you and supported most of your weight and the three of you got on the move.
--
“This is it?” Wrecker asked- his scepticism evident despite the pressing matter at hand- as he stared at the condemned building.
“All the regular penthouses were taken.” You kidded before you swayed on your feet as a wave of dizziness struck.
“Woah, easy.” Hunter cautioned as he strengthened his grip.
“Second floor.” You hissed. “And mind the fourth step on the second staircase. Half of it is missing.”
“It can never just be simple.” Hunter grumbled anxiously as Wrecker opened the decrepit door to the building.
“Would it really be a reunion if everything went well?” You joked deliriously.
“Right now, yes I would definitely prefer it.” Hunter fretted as he saw your head dip. You were losing the battle of staying conscious with each passing second. The next time it happened, he wasn’t sure you would be able to lift your head again.
--
Lyra had barely any time to process the familiar people standing in her doorway as she answered the pounding knock. All she could do was stare at you, half collapsed against Hunter’s side, your hand cradling your stomach, and then her eyes caught sight of the trail of blood that had followed your path up. “What-”
“Hey, girl. Remember- remember how I promised I wouldn’t put you through something like this again? Turns out, I shouldn’t- shouldn’t have done that.” You said through gritted teeth before you stumbled as you tried to take a step forward, prompting Hunter to lift you up.
“Please.” The hoarse plea was all Hunter managed to say.
“Lay her here.” Lyra quickly stepped aside to let the three of you in and pointed to the couch.
Hunter hustled inside and delicately placed you on the worn soft. He took off his helmet and kneeled by your head and stroked your hair back from your forehead. “You’re going to be alright. You need to hold on for me, okay? I’m not losing you again.” He whispered against your temple before he left a light kiss on your brow.
“Good news, it’s not as bad as last time.” Lyra said as she examined the wound before getting up to go gather the medical supplies.
“The bar is rather low on that front, Lyra.” You moaned.
“Last time?” Hunter found himself asking as he tore his stare from your bloody injury to Lyra.
Lyra didn’t respond, she was too busy staring at the depleted supply of medical care. She took a deep breath and braced her hands against the countertop. “(Y/N)… what happened to the bacta?”
Seemingly forgetting that you were currently in severe pain and bleeding out, you went to prop yourself up but Hunter’s hand gently pushing against your shoulder stopped you. “Hey.” You protested wearily.
“You can answer the question like that.” Hunter chastised.
“The bacta?” Lyra pressed as she rifled through the other cupboards in case it had somehow been misplaced.
No, not yet. You told yourself as the black dots returned. You blinked them away and took a strained breath before you answered. “I- I may have given it away…”
“You-” Lyra had to take a deep, calming breath and pinched the bridge of her nose. “You gave it away? What in all the galaxy would possess you to do that?”
“Well, I saw someone in need and decided-” You broke off with another pained wince. “Decided to finally be a good citizen.”
Lyra released an exasperated sigh. “Do I need to remind you of your track record? You need bacta like the rest of us need water.”
“In my defence, I wasn’t planning on needing it anymore. This- this time really wasn’t my fault.”
“I quite frankly don’t give a fuck! You can’t just-”
“Can we do this later?” Hunter interrupted as he saw your face contort in discomfort. “Preferably when she’s able to hold a conversation without convulsing in pain?”
“I can run back to our ship and get some.” Wrecker offered as he lifted his helmet.
“Go.” Hunter said with a nod, but Lyra held out a hand to stop the bigger clone from going.
“She doesn’t have that kinda time. I can cauterise it the old-fashioned way, but it’ll just hurt like hell.” Lyra said with a grimace.
“That’s fine because I don’t think I’m going to be conscious for much longer.” The darkness encroaching on your vision was all too tempting and you were completely exhausted.
“No, you stay awake.” Lyra ordered sternly.
Hunter and Wrecker turned their attention sharply to you.
“Come on, (Y/N). You gotta hang in there.” Wrecker urged as he reached over the back of the couch and placed a large hand on your shoulder.
“Sweetheart, keep your eyes on me.” Hunter begged as he saw them flicker open and shut but it was a battle that he knew you were going to lose.
You wanted to; you really did but you just couldn’t. You shut your eyes and embraced the peace of the darkness.
“Hunter, she’s still breathing right?” Lyra asked as she picked up the last few things she needed.
“Shallowly but yes.” Hunter said with a thankful sigh.
“That’s good enough.” Lyra ran back to the couch and began to start to process of stabilising you.
--
You were in a dim corridor. The only light seemed to at the end of the long passageway. You made to walk towards it, hoping it would show you a way out but as you walked, it seemed to move away from you. You broke into a run but the distance between you and the light only grew. You paused your run as you thought about what this could mean. It was then though that a voice spoke up and a figure appeared next to you.
You won’t get to it.
You faced the figure. It almost sounded and looked like you but there was something off about it. There was a yellow shimmer in the eyes and the face was gaunt and mean-looking, with lips that seemed to be in a permanent sneer. The voice carried a cruel, sinister overtone that made your blood run cold and the hair on the back of your neck stand up.
It’ll keep staying away from you.
But why? You studied whatever it was before you as they circled you. When it walked, it was cast in constant shadow.
You think after all you’ve done; you can have that light back? You think you deserve it?
Before you could form a reply, your attention was drawn to a scene unfolding to your right.
Aww this was your first failure. But it brought me to the surface, so I remain pretty grateful.
Your breath caught in your throat as you recognised the moment. You saw your master completely surrounded by battle droids, taking hit after hit. And you saw yourself as a Jedi Knight sprinting to reach him. You went to turn away, but a strong hand grabbed the back of your neck, forcing you to keep looking.
There’s you. Being too late to save him. Do you remember the last words you said to him?
You did and they were words you had regretted ever since.
‘Stubborn, foolish, out of touch, old timer whose only purpose was to be a pawn for the orders of the Jedi Council’ I believe they were.
Stop it.
He died knowing you failed him.
You squeezed your eyes shut as you heard the final shot that sent your master crumbling to the ground.
You got a taste for it then.
Despite the fact you wanted to refuse, you found yourself opening your eyes to seeing yourself utterly decimate the remaining droids by your master’s dead body. You saw the merciless gleam in your eyes and the callous smile that graced your face as you destroyed them. You had enjoyed that. The scene finished with you repeatedly bringing your lightsaber down on the final droid, the blue blade moving in unrestrained fury. Why did you show me that? You asked bleakly.
But the darkness didn’t give you a proper answer. It only pushed an icy finger on your lips. Pay attention, we’re not done yet. It took you a while to accept that this was always in you. You worked on shutting me out. You managed for a while… but then she left.
You wanted nothing more than to leave this place and this darkness before you, but all control had been taken from your body. Your feet began moving of their own accord and you were directed to another moment on your left this time. You were stopped and the hand took a harsh grip of your neck again. You were forced to watch Ahsoka walk out the Council Chamber doors, with Anakin following her and then you viewed yourself in horror as you saw the rage written across your face and heard the venom in your words as you yelled at the Council. Had you really been that uncontrolled? That angry?
Even though you finally left those uptight pricks, you still insisted on keeping me hidden though. Rather irritating I must say. I wondered what it would take for you to accept me. And then he came into your life.
You were pushed along the hall again to the next part which was replaying your first interaction with Hunter and your chest felt tight. Leave him out of this.
Oh, but he’s the best part. Your figure taunted nastily.
The scene switched and were now being greeted with flashes of your intimate moments with Hunter. Enough.
The only reply came in the form was an unkind laugh.
Giving into that lust felt good, didn’t it? The possessiveness, the selfishness that came with having someone just for you was too enticing to pass up.
No, that wasn’t what it was at all. Stop.
You liked the feeling of knowing you could use that attachment to excuse any darker actions. You would be doing it for him, so it made it okay. It wasn’t love for him you were feeling, it was a love for the freedom to channel me that you craved. He was merely a convenient vessel.
No, you’re wrong! You insisted but your voice lacked conviction, everything was getting so twisted that you were now doubting the feelings you thought you never would.
The darkness just gave you a pitying look. Just keep watching and you’ll see I’m right.
So, you did. You were shoved further up the corridor to see you and the Batch together. Memories that you once would’ve looked back on in fondness were now tainted by pain and disappointment that you’d dragged them into your mess. The darkness took no notice of your distress, it just continued talking.
Much to my delight, you grew to care for all of that group. I knew that attachment would lead to something marvellous for us and then it finally happened.
You moved along to the next scene and your breathing grew uneven as the image of Eriadu appeared. You couldn’t bear seeing this again but once more, you were left with no choice but to hear Tech say that dreaded plan and watch him fall to his death.
Of course, he was another one you were too slow to save but-
You wouldn’t hear this. No, we didn’t have the time. There was nothing I could’ve done. What happened was-
Oh, I know you tried telling yourself that, but my very existence tells me that you know if you’d allowed me in earlier, the situation itself wouldn’t have happened. You’d have killed Gerrera before he even had a chance to set those explosives off.
No, you’re wrong. You said through a shaken whisper, but you didn’t believe the words you were saying anymore.
Although I must say, I’m glad you didn’t quite give in then since I am rather pleased with how it all turned out. His death was the catalyst to a glorious chain of events. So much loss and broken trust. Finally, you had the reason to welcome me without restraint or regret.
You felt your anger rise as the voice kept talking whilst the scene changed from his death to Cid’s betrayal and Omega being captured and you being separated from Hunter. Nothing about that had been a blessing. It couldn’t have been. Shut up. You snarled. But the figure only smugly beamed.
There it is. There’s that power. You can deny it all you want but that was the best thing that happened to you. You let me in and from that point on, nothing stopped you getting what you wanted. And it felt divine. You know it did. Look at how formidable you are with me being a part of things.
You were dragged along the hall and all that appeared around you were the people in the galaxy you’d threatened, brutalised, and murdered. You had no other option but to watch and hear their tortured pleas and screams. You didn’t need the darkness to talk you through these this time, you recalled very clearly that during all of this, you’d felt not one bit of remorse. You’d thought they deserved it. You’d fallen so far, and a way back now seemed impossible.
The darkness commented on a particular time where you were torturing a woman who’d been very difficult to track and get information from. Even when you did find her, she’d been loyal to the Empire, insisting you should’ve died with the rest of the Jedi traitors. You’d responded by cracking the individual bones in her fingers and hands before moving up to the bones in her arm. You’d broken her right clavicle before she’d finally told you what you needed to know. I particularly liked this moment. Do you remember how she couldn’t stand afterwards? All she could do was writhe on the floor in agony. Quite a humorous sight.
You remembered them all and it made you feel sick to your stomach now as you watched the endless stream of tormented and pained faces of people you had tortured and killed in your quest for information.
The last scene disappeared and despite the fact you had been walking along the corridor that whole time, the light had still remained far out of reach.
See? No matter how far you go, you’ll never reach that light. Why bother searching for it anymore? You know you’re better off alone. All you need is this power and you’ll be unstoppable. But since I know some part of you still cares for your clones, don’t trouble them with this. It’s not something that can be shared or fixed.
The figure faded and you collapsed to your knees in defeat. You had succumbed to that darkness and hurt and killed too many people. You’d crossed that line, and you weren’t sure there was a way back for you and you wouldn’t take Hunter down with you. Or Wrecker and Echo. They deserved a chance to rescue Omega and set things right, and if being with Hunter meant that chance would be at risk, you wouldn’t take that from them. Even if it would kill you, it would be the last thing you did to protect your family. ‘No attachments. There is no emotion, there is peace.’ You had to finally listen to that part of the Jedi Code that you had fought against for years and… and you would let them go.
--
Once it seemed things were more under control, Wrecker broke the quiet. “I’m going to go keep watch.” He said before walking out.
There were a few minutes of silence, the only noise being the quiet hiss of Lyra sealing shut your injury now that she’d cleaned it.
“Didn’t know you had this skill set.” Hunter said into the quiet as he watched Lyra.
“I tell myself it’s not so different from stitching and making clothes. Plus, she kinda made it that I had to learn quick. There were just some things she couldn’t handle on her own.”
There was a dip in conversation again.
“I was sorry to hear about your kid... and Tech.” Lyra said quietly as she worked on you. She placed a bandage over your now closed injury and started to put away the medical supplies.
The mention of his brother’s name had him stiffening his posture. “Yeah, well, we’re going to find her.”
Lyra nodded understandingly before she indicated to you. “She’s been non-stop since Ord Mantell. She wouldn’t rest until she found you. Didn’t matter how dangerous things got, she wouldn’t stop.”
Hunter continued to stroke your brow. “She’s not the only one.”
“I almost wished she would. I thought the search was going to kill her. Especially after what happened last time.”
This wasn’t the first time she’d mentioned this now. And from the dynamic between the two of you since arriving here, he figured there was key subtext he was missing. He glanced over to Lyra. “What are you talking about?”
Lyra took a short breath. “It was a few weeks ago. She-” Lyra stopped as she heard you let out a soft groan.
“Hey you.” Hunter said softly as you slowly opened your eyes. “How are you feeling?”
You didn’t answer him. Whatever soreness you were experiencing wouldn’t come close to the misery your next course of action would cause you. “Thank you. Again.” You said to Lyra instead.
Lyra nodded. “I’ll go keep Wrecker company.” She said before grabbing her sniper rifle and making her exit.
Hunter brought his focus back to you and provided a supportive hand on your back as you sat up. “Take as long as you need. I figured once you’re feeling more up to it, you can say your goodbyes and leave with us. After-”
“You have to go.”
“Yes, I know…” Hunter said, tilting his head at you. “But you need a bit of time and-”
“No, you need to leave without me.”
Without you? No, you couldn’t mean that. “What’s-” He stopped for a moment to try and recover from the confusion your statement caused him. “What’s changed between that alleyway and now?”
You knew he wasn’t going to make this easy but every minute you had to do this was tearing you apart. “Everything has. The Empire knows what I am. It’ll add unnecessary heat.”
“We’ll cope.”
You swallowed harshly and grimaced as you readjusted your sitting position. “It’s not just that. Things changed when we got separated. I changed.”
“That doesn’t scare me.”
“It should. All I’ve done…” You trailed off and gulped. “I’m not who I used to be.”
“I’ve done things I’m not proud of too. But we can-”
“Hunter, I don’t belong with you anymore.”
Hunter couldn’t accept that. “You’re one of us. You always have been. Since the first moment you stepped in front of those droids on Devaron, you were one of us. I don’t understand why-”
“There’s someone else.” You blurted out and fuck you hated yourself for it. You knew by the way he recoiled from you and from deep hurt and betrayal that flashed across his face, you would’ve been better off hitting him. You knew you had to hurt him. Even if he left hating you, you could find a way to let him go. But you hated that you had to do it.
“There’s someone else.” Hunter repeated quietly, his throat bobbing as he kept his voice tight.
You had to push it. It was the only way, but it felt like your heart was being ripped out of your chest as you said the next words. You forced yourself to keep your voice cold and level. “I’ve moved on. I only needed to know that you were alive. And now I do. You can go now. Just leave and don’t think about me again. It’ll save us all a lot of bother.” You couldn’t face the wounded look in his eyes and you turned your own away from him and had to blink away the tears that threatened to fall.
Hunter clenched his jaw and swallowed thickly. “Look me in the eye and tell me that again.” He implored.
He knew you too well. You wouldn’t do it. If you did, he would know you were lying. So, you opted for something worse- you would manipulate his heart. “If any part of you still cares about me, you will go. That’s all I want now. I need you to leave. You’ll only be hurting me more if you stay.” You said firmly as you faced him again.
You sounded so sure, and even if he thought he could see something in your eyes that took the conviction out of your words, he’d never want to cause you pain, he wouldn’t be able to stand it. Better him be the one to take the hurt, no matter how unnatural it felt, no matter how much every fibre of his being yearned to stay by your side and work this out. So, Hunter got to his feet and walked over to the door. “Every part of me still cares about you.” He murmured back to you before the door opened and he walked out. He was walking out on you- something he thought he’d never do- and it left him feeling like he had a gaping hole in his chest.
--
As you heard the door shut, a broken sob left your lips and you let the tears fall.
--
“Where is she?” Lyra asked as Hunter came out from the door behind them.
“Keep her alive.” Hunter said numbly to Lyra before he walked away.
“Hunter-” Lyra started to say but the clone wasn’t stopping.
“Eh, well, I guess it was nice to see you.” Wrecker said hurriedly before he darted after his brother.
“Bye.” Lyra said with confusion as she watched the two clones go. She turned to go back inside and hopefully knock some sense into you.
--
You’d managed to drag yourself into the sanctity of your room, but the isolation wasn’t helping things. The regret you were feeling was overwhelming but what was done was done. You needed to stand by your choice, it was what was best for them, you just needed to learn how to cope. You needed something, anything, to distract your brain from the self-doubt running rampant in your head so, staying mindful of your wound, you tentatively sat back on your bed and closed your eyes, drowned out the pouring rain smacking against the glass, and found your centre again.
Not to your surprise, you were only surrounded by darkness. You’d let the last light in your life go, there was nothing left for you now.
Spark.
Not that voice. Not again, you couldn’t handle that. “No, I’m not doing this.”
Yes, you are. You need to listen to me, Spark.
You sighed and saw the figure of your old master appear in the vast space before you. “So, either I somehow took a turn and I’m dead or I’m hallucinating.”
Your master simply chuckled. Must it always be extremes with you?
“You taught me what I know, you tell me.”
Well, based off your past choices, I would say you’ve forgotten much of what I taught you.
“This is why you’re in my head? To lecture me about my choices? Yes, I broke the code, big whoop. I never liked it anyway. And now I’ve given into the dark side, sorry to have disappointed you.” You grumbled as you looked down at your feet.
He sighed. It hurt him to see you look so defeated, this wasn’t the young Jedi he’d raised. Evidently, you were going to need more help than he expected. This isn’t some meditative trick. I’ve always been with you, Spark, and now I’m with you because you need help. You’ve strayed from your path, and you need guidance.
“You’re a few months too late, Master.” The title came back into your vocabulary so naturally, you’d nearly missed the fact that you’d reverted back to your student/teacher dynamic so quickly.
That defeat you’re feeling is exactly why I’m here now. This dark side you seem to think is your destiny is not decided, but if you continue to stand by the decision that you just made, it will be. There’s a chance for you, Spark, don’t throw it away.
You couldn’t bring yourself to believe him. “If you’ve truly been around for all of this, you’ll know what I’ve done. You’ve seen what I’ve become. I wasn’t as strong I thought I was.”
You haven’t fallen yet. He reiterated. What you’ve gone through would wreck most people, the fact that you’ve only strayed from the light now is a credit to you. But this choice you’ve made to let them go is what will seal your fate.
“What are you talking about? I was on this path long before what happened on Ord Mantell. I saw it!” You said, your voice rising in frustration and distress. Why was everyone around you so insistent that you could heal from this? You’d shown your true colours years ago, you were only doing what you were obviously meant for.
He raised his hands to calm you. Spark, listen to me. You’re not-
“I had to let him go! I had to let them all go! You should be glad, Master! I’m finally following the teaching you worked so hard on getting through to me!” Your breathing grew more uneven and the word that left your mouth were filled with self-loathing, but you couldn’t stop them. “I’m damaged goods, I have been from the beginning, and I couldn’t bring him down with me! I couldn’t bring any of them down with me!” You felt tears slide down your cheeks as the emotion you had been trying to hard to push down came crashing to the surface.
And is letting attachments go part of the Jedi or Sith philosophy? He asked gently.
His genteel manner caught you off guard. You huffed out a quick breath. “Why does that matter?”
Answer the question, please.
You released an agitated sigh. “Jedi, I guess but-”
And let me ask you this, you said you saw what you’ve done? How?
You regained some composure. “I don’t know how to describe what it was I saw, but whatever it was took me down a lovely stroll through memory lane and I saw what I was. There’s no denying it now.”
It was starting to make sense to him now and with this new understanding, he finally knew the best way to help you. Yes, the dark side can be very manipulative that way. Especially when it knows there’s been pain plenty of pain and sorrow. It preys upon that and I’m just sorry it got to you before I could.
“What are you talking about?”
What you saw, it wasn’t the whole truth.
Not the whole truth? “What do you mean?”
He looked at you with intrigue. What do you think I mean?
You inhaled deeply to find some patience. “Master, please. I’m not your padawan anymore.”
He bowed his head in acknowledgement. You’ll always be my padawan, Spark. But I understand this may not be the best time for one of my lessons.
Despite everything, the nostalgia his teaching persona brought you had you humming out a quiet laugh. “I guess working together on whatever cryptic lesson you’re going to impart on me will be fine, for old times sake if nothing else. Just don’t leave it all to me. I’m not clear-headed enough to do all the thinking.”
He nodded and smiled knowingly at you. It will be less cryptic that the lessons I used to give you. Let us begin.
You knew that gleam in his eye and you forgot that no matter how agitated or frustrated you’d been growing up as his pupil, he’d always found a way to put you at ease and you’d been more open to learning again. Even dead, he still seemed to possess that ability. And it was because of that, you found yourself getting ready to welcome whatever wisdom he felt could get you out of this hell you’d put yourself in.
Now, I understand that you are feeling a lot of guilt and self-loathing, correct?
Feeling it? You felt like you were drowning in it.
And you have convinced yourself that your clones, particularly… Hunter, isn’t it? He waited for your nod before continuing, are better off without you because you’ve done too much. Stepped over that line one too many times? A lost cause, yes?
“I guess you could say that.” You mumbled.
He hummed in thought before he spoke again. You mentioned something about you were this way from the beginning. Can you tell me to which beginning you are referring to?
You inhaled shakily. “I- I saw you die again. I watched myself destroy the rest of those droids in undisciplined rage and- and I was reminded of what I’d said to you.”
Ah yes, that was quite the day. Rather humiliating on my part, I must say. I should’ve just listened to you from the start. My we exchanged some choice words. He ruminated with a small chuckle.
You remembered him having a rather dry sense of humour, but this just seemed absurd. You’re laughing about this?! I was awful to you! I saw you die and all I could do was wreak havoc on a group of droids and I enjoyed it! I held your dead body in my arms and the last thing I had done was insult you and forget everything you’d taught me for some fucking battle droids!”
He held up his hands to appease you. You’re right, I shouldn’t have laughed but that wasn’t quite how it went.
You furrowed your brow. “What? I saw it! I remember it pretty clearly, even without the reminder. I’m haunted by it and you’re telling me that wasn’t what happened?!”
He shook his head. Not quite. Remember, the dark side has a remarkable ability to alter events to fit its needs. It only picks out the moments necessary to draw out those darker emotions. What you saw was true, from a certain point of view, but it didn’t show you everything.
“Then what am I missing?” You asked, desperation in your voice because if there was anything that could help ease the ache from that day, you needed it.
I wasn’t dead when I hit the ground. Fret not, no amount of medical attention would’ve saved me. He interjected hastily as he saw the panic that graced your face. Although the sadder truth is I did in fact die in your arms but… He angled his head to catch your eye again as you had shied away from him upon hearing that. He started again, but your last words to me were not fuelled by irritation or cruelty, you apologised for what you said as well as how you handled those droids. You told me that I was the best teacher you’d ever had, and you promised you would continue to work on what I taught you and to make me proud. That was the last thing you said to me before I passed on. And I can honestly say, Spark, that you kept your promise, despite how it might seem currently.
You went to speak but found that you didn’t have the words. All these years spent being tormented by a memory that in fact had another side to it, could that be right? Seeing it again had made it seem all the more true but there was nothing but sincerity in his face and voice as he told you this. He wasn’t looking to feed you a false narrative, there was no vindictiveness in his tone.
You don’t have to believe me immediately, I know things have been tough but we’re going to go through this and I’m going to help you see the truth, okay? He said tenderly.
You could only nod.
Okay. He straightened up. I’m going to make an educated guess and say that if that incident was the starting point, the next situation would’ve been that unfortunate time with Ahsoka and the Jedi Council and also the day you decided to leave?
You gulped and found your voice again. “Um, yeah.”
And I expect you were shown yourself in an untamed rage with little concern over the words you used?
You gave a stiff nod of your head.
Uh huh, well, once again, you were shown a manipulated memory created from shame. You were unhappy, and I can’t say I blame you, they really fucked that up if you pardon the phrase.
You couldn’t help but snort at his gentlemanly manner and you were reminded of the many telling offs for language you’d received growing up.
And while you were disappointed in them and frustrated, you never lost control of yourself. Your voice was raised but level. You were clear in your points, and you never said anything untoward save for some unsavoury language sprinkled in. He watched you impart the familiar eye roll as he said that last statement, but he took that as a positive sign. Your attachment to Ahsoka didn’t cloud your judgment, your decision to leave was made with a steady heart and a focused head. And I watched you do it and I knew it was the best decision for you. It did set things in motion, but they were good things for you, Spark, and it’s important that you realise that again. He looked at you earnestly.
You held his gaze, and, in his eyes, you saw the master that had been with you through thick and thin. The master that had put up with your questions and doubts about the Jedi Order that the Jedi Council could hardly tolerate. You saw the master that had mentored you and fought by your side for years. He was one of the people that had known you best. He wouldn’t lie to you, and you felt your heart opening up to what he was saying to you.
Shall we continue? He asked after giving you a minute to process.
You shook your shoulders and exhaled heavily before you looked at him and give him a single, firm nod.
--
He had taken you through various events bit by bit. Pointing out that elements that demonstrated you were still being pulled towards the light. Things like you would’ve either left or killed Lyra the second she’d gotten you out of Ord Mantell and her use was over. Things like you wouldn’t have offered so many opportunities for people to talk to you before you injured or killed them, you would have hurt them first and asked questions later- killing and pain had never been your first port of call. And any firefight that ensued, when possible, you made sure you remained the primary target and civilians would be out of harms way.
Concern for others and worry about the consequences of your actions… Sith and dark side users tend not to feel or allow for these things. He surmised.
Even if what he was revealing to you was the whole picture, there was still the pressing matter of how you’d been in the recent months. “But Eriadu and everything that followed after… I let something in, what was it if not the dark side?”
He gave you a sympathetic smile. You had never experienced loss and betrayal in such quick succession before. What you let in was the anger and anguish you were feeling which you weren’t trained to handle properly. The more you went on, the more those emotions twisted your brain which allowed the darkness to creep in and make it more effortless to act on said emotions. It was easier for you to get what you needed with your emotions being what they were, and you didn’t have to think about who was getting hurt. You got a rather bad case of tunnel vision- you were doing bad things for good reasons, but they were not senseless acts of violence.
“But I have done so many bad things.” You said with self-directed disgust.
Yes, but what you can do now is work towards finding that line again. To finding that control you had in the past. You’ve been on that path since this morning, the self-awareness of what you’ve been doing wasn’t present in the months before today. However, you cannot get back to that place alone anymore, you’ve changed since you left the Order and most of it was for the better, but more attachment means more support. You will not be able to find that balance if you let your family go. He said with a sense of urgency. He needed you to grasp what he was telling you, no matter how unnatural it might feel.
Your pulse quickened. Surely, he wasn’t suggesting what you thought he was? “What are you saying, Master?”
Do you know where your nickname originated?
Confused as you why this was suddenly relevant, you angled your head at him. “I always figured it was because word spread that I made my lightsaber slightly wrong the first time and nearly set it on fire when I first ignited it.”
He chortled. That acted more as a visual aid and a helpful addition to the true origin.
“Then where did it come from?”
He took a deep breath. In the weeks leading up to the time for us to choose a youngling to take under our wing, you caught my eye from the start. It wasn’t just your natural ability with a lightsaber or your quick grasp of the Force, it was how you interacted with the people around you. During the trials, you had a heightened care for how the others were performing and you aided them whenever you could without a second thought. It made you more focused, more effective. You were unique from your peers in that sense and in a way that I’d never seen before, and I knew I had to get to know you more to understand what it was I was picking up on.
“Yeah, I remember. I’d never expected someone to choose me so eagerly, especially since my disciplinary record was far from perfect, even at that age.” Youreminisced with a sigh.
Yes, my fellow Jedi were surprised at my decision, but there was just something within you I had to see for myself. As we got to understand each other and I could officially begin your training, I watched you continue to demonstrate this quality and I could feel it residing in the Force within you. You had this spark, this fire that drove you which would worry even the most disciplined Jedi Masters but with you, it was as much a part of you as the Force was with the rest of us. You were completely at peace with it, and it was something you probably didn’t realise was so rare. You could feel attachment without rejecting the light side of the Force to do so.
So, the name made a bit more sense after all these years, but you still couldn’t see why this was being brought up. “Okay…”
He could tell you were still hesitant to all this. Do you know which General had the most victories with the fewest casualty numbers? Quite a feat to have during war time I might add.
You huffed a heavy breath from your lips. “I have no idea. The war was such a mess and there were so many of us that it was hard to keep up with the results of each battle.”
Fair point. He conceded, but that doesn’t change the answer which is that it was you.
You were taken aback for a moment before you thought back to that period and part of it did make sense. Many of your strategies had seen you take on the most dangerous elements for the sake of the clones in your battalion despite protests from them, your master and pretty much everyone that was involved, but all that mattered to you was that they worked, and you did what you could to protect everyone else.
He knew you enough to recognise that face and he figured whatever it was you were thinking about would relate to his next question. And which General had the most visits to the medical wing? Another impressive award. He added with a hint of disapproval, his mask of control slipping slightly as he frowned at the memories of the countless notifications he’d receive of your admittance to the healing wards of the Jedi Temple.
You cringed as you remembered the fact you had been on a first name basis with all the medical personnel. “I did.”
He nodded. Attachments didn’t bring you down, they lifted you up. Their most negative consequence in that period seemed to be the recklessness they gave you- and my hair greying faster than I would’ve liked. He couldn’t help but say before he continued, but they didn’t unbalance you like they did most of us. And it is on that point my dear Spark, that I failed you.
“Failed me?” In what galaxy could he have possibly failed you when you were the one that had forgone all you stood for and was one slip away from total self-destruction.
When it became clear to me that this was indeed one of your best qualities and strengths, I was thrilled! It presented a challenge for me as you Master that I was looking forward to exploring! Your emotional attachment to people and causes was one I wanted to teach you to manage, not forbid. Your love and care didn’t make you more susceptible to the dark side and its dangers, it drew you closer to the light. That fire that burns within you isn’t a threat, it’s your way to become something greater. But the Council… He trailed off with a regretful sigh. They rejected my proposal that I mentor you in this way. So instead, as you got older, I worked on forcing you to dampen that flame within you but- He stopped for a moment and chuckled wryly. As you may remember, that was when the root of our conflicts started. Foolishly and rather selfishly-and this is an example of how even those of us that followed the Jedi Code to the letter slip from time to time- you passing your trials into Knighthood gave me profound relief. Not only did it mean I could see you become the Jedi you were always meant to be, but it meant my duty as your teacher was over and I could stop doing something I was against. But I shied away too much and stopped teaching you altogether, had I just been less of a ‘pawn of the Council’ as you quite rightly put it, what you’re experiencing now could have been avoided.
You took a moment to let his words sink in, but you wouldn’t let him blame himself for how you’d behaved in recent times. “I still made the choices to hurt those people, Master. You’re not responsible for my actions.”
Perhaps not, but I could’ve done more to make sure you were better equipped to deal with the loss attachment could bring rather than just tell you to stop feeling it altogether. Not that you listened to that anyway. He added with a slight grin.
You allowed yourself half a smile at that before his face turned sombre again.
But I should’ve stood up for you and for that I’m sorry.
You bowed your head in acceptance of his apology. “But what does all of what we’ve talked about have to do with where I am now?”
Everything I’ve shown you, everything you’ve felt in these recent months illustrates someone who had to cope with a tremendous amount of grief when they had been told their whole life to not feel or get attached. Even with your strength and abilities, Spark, that was a big ask, your actions, and the internal conflict you’re going through is an understandable outcome. But even in dealing with that struggle, you were never purely evil or sought to abandon your Jedi teachings. The only time I grew truly worried before now was whatever you did a few weeks ago. Even I couldn’t see you; it was like the very light around you was getting snuffed out. Care to tell me what you did?
You shook your head adamantly.
Very well. As I was saying, all you’ve learned, all you’ve done and means you can heal from this. You are not a lost cause, not a source of darkness and despair. You are good at heart, Spark!
But Master, I-
No, don’t talk yourself out of this. Really think about what I’m telling you. You never abandoned Lyra, you did your best to ensure no civilian would be caught up in your fights, you offered chances to those people before you hurt them. And you were able to sense Hunter and Wrecker arrive. That source of light wouldn’t have shown itself if you were too far down that dark path.
Maybe so but-
He wouldn’t let you second guess yourself anymore. And when you realised that they were indeed on this planet… what did you do first?
You pondered for a moment before you remembered. I helped those sisters.
And when you found one another, you felt alive and hopeful again but because you’d been lost and confused for so long, it got manipulated into that guilt and regret and hurt you are experiencing right now that has left you exposed to this darkness. But before that, you were ready to free yourself of it, whether you truly realised it or not.
“Right…” You said distantly as you were slowly starting to understand what revelation he was guiding you towards.
I can see you working it out, you’re almost there. He encouraged.
Each lesson and aspect of this entire conversation began to click into place. “So, you’re saying that Hunter’s my light? He’s my way out of this?” You uttered quietly.
Isn’t he? He challenged with a supportive smile. And I believe he too made that fact very clear before you sent him away.
“I thought that was what I was supposed to do.” You said in dismay as your mind finally began to listen to what your Master had been telling you and you gained some proper clarity. What had you done?
He looked at you fondly. You were always a bad student when it came to applying and learning the history of our Code, it would fit that the first time you apply the philosophy to your life would be the poorer choice. They never unbalanced you, Spark. At the very least, they’re your way of staying true to the light side and your dark side knew that, hence it’s enthusiastic efforts to turn you.
You hid you head in your hands in embarrassment. You wouldn’t know a right decision if it smacked you in the face.
Oh, and with regards to Cid and Hemlock, I leave that side of things entirely up to you, with your family by your side, I know punishing them however you like won’t ruin you.
“Thanks, Master.” You replied, a smile in your voice.
Not every Jedi gets the chance at a family, Spark, don’t throw it away now.
You glanced up in time to see him fade away but what was around you wasn’t pure darkness anymore; rays of light had broken into the gloomy space, with more fighting to get through.
--
You opened your eyes sharply and wiped away the damp residue of the tears that had escaped your eyes from your cheeks. He was right, they were the light in your life, and you’d been so stupid to let them go.
Ignoring the lingering pain of your injury, you hastily got to your feet, grabbed a couple bags of credits, and left your room only to be greeted by the disappointed and unhappy face of Lyra. “Hey, I was just-”
“You need to go after them. I’m sorry but I’m drawing the line here. I have not watched you put yourself through hell and risk your life month after month to find your family again only for you to throw it away for some stupid, fucked up, self-sabotaging reason! If you let them go, it will destroy you and as someone else who cares about you, I cannot allow you to do that! They’re your family, you need them, and they need you. And your kid needs you, you can’t just stop! And Hunter… that man is so in love with you it’s sickening, and you are as equally disgustingly in love with him! Whatever is holding you back, the two of you can get through together!”
“Lyra-” But she held up a finger to stop you.
“And you don’t need to worry about me, I will be fine. I’ll get a job and might even find a place that’s not a condemned building to live. You have to go!” She finished with a nervous exhale as she awaited your reaction.
“You’re right.” You agreed.
“Yeah, I am and- wait… what?” Lyra stared at you, shocked.
“I’m going after them.”
“You are?” She double checked.
“Yup.”
“Oh, thank fuck!” Lyra exclaimed before she darted forward and wrapped you up in her arms.
“How long were you coming up with that speech?” You kidded as the two of you hugged.
“For however long you were holed up in your room.” Lyra said with a laugh. “And in case you didn’t listen to that, I had my rifle set to stun and was fully prepared to drag you.”
“Glad we could avoid that.” You replied drily. “Also, ‘sickeningly in love?’” You quoted.
“I meant that as a compliment. Most people can only dream of that.”
You managed a short laugh. “I was an ass to you.” You mumbled shamefully.
“You were, but you were going through a lot.” Lyra said kindly as she removed herself from your hold.
“I was broken and hurting but that wasn’t an excuse to treat you how I did and I’m so sorry. I’m truly grateful for you and your friendship and well, just everything you’ve done for me. I won’t ever forget it. There are some spare bags of credits from those jobs I pulled whilst we were on the move in my bedside drawer, take them. And if there’s anything, and I mean anything you need, I will be there. You only have to get in touch.” You passed her the details of the Marauder’s comm channel.
“Go get ‘em.” Lyra said with a grin.
You gave her one last quick hug before you ran out the door, concern for your injury was pushed far to the back of your mind. You only prayed to the Force that you hadn’t left it too late.
--
“But I still don’t understand why we’re going without her. What you’ve said makes no sense.” Wrecker questioned as he followed Hunter up and down the Marauder as he got stuff ready for take-off.
“Not my problem, Wrecker. I don’t really want to relive it all again so that it makes sense to you.” Hunter said gruffly as he avoided making eye-contact with his brother and instead focused on keeping himself busy.
“She met someone else and you’re basically doing the whole ‘if you love someone you let them go?’”
“I guess that about sums it up.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“Wrecker-”
“I’m sorry, Sarge, but it’s true.”
“You weren’t there. You didn’t hear her.”
“She can’t have meant it! She still has your insignia, if there was someone else, why would she keep that?!”
“Wrecker, drop it.” Hunter said sharply. His brother’s insistence that you were making all this up was only rubbing salt in the wound.
“We’re really just going to leave and forget about her?”
“Yup.”
Wrecker just couldn’t accept that. “If you love someone, you fight for them! Otherwise, what’s the point in what we’re doing right now, why should we bother going after Omega?”
Hunter paused his pacing by the doorway and released an exasperated sigh. “What do you expect me to do?”
Wrecker went to speak but changed his mind as to what he was going to say as he saw the figure in the background. “Actually, I don’t think you’ll have to do anything.” Wrecker said, looking past Hunter’s shoulder.
Hunter turned to follow his gaze and that was when he saw you. Standing in the torrential rain a few feet away from the steps to the Marauder, was you and you were obviously trying to catch your breath.
--
You started to speak before you caught your breath, so your words were leaving you in a desperate and winded manner. “I was always a bad student.” You raised your voice over the sound of the pouring way. You wiped some drops away from your face, a futile gesture given the intensity of the downpour, but the motion assisted in grounding you for this moment.
Hunter studied you from afar for a second, unsure as to why you’d started this way.
Sensing his uncertainty, you cleared your throat and started again but your words still spilled from your lips in a nervous ramble. “So, it turns out I was always a Jedi who developed attachments and love for people, but apparently that’s a pretty strong and unique quality and applying the Jedi philosophy of ‘letting attachment go’ is a mistake and- and it felt like one. I have such a poor grasp of that concept that even when I went to use it properly, I got it all wrong. I was always a terrible student but for once, for once in my life, I have never been more grateful for it.” Your voice quivered as you said these next words. “I love you! I love you so much it hurts but it’s the kind of hurt that I can’t imagine not having in my life. You, this team, are what keep me balanced and alive, and I was stupid to think letting you go was the solution to everything I have done!”
Hunter could feel his heart thundering in his chest as he listened to what you were saying.
“Finally seeing you again made me feel hope and brought a newfound sense of purpose in my life I didn’t think I’d have again but it got all twisted, I let it get all messed up! I saw you and Wrecker, and I felt that love again and it terrified me at first! I had been acting out and miserable for so long that I didn’t think I deserved to feel this way again or that I should burden you all with my past. I needed to be punished and this was the best way I could think of. I allowed whatever darkness that had been driving me for that period we were apart to convince me that you were better of alone and I had to say whatever I could to get that to happen and for that, I am sorry!” You were in full flow now, all the emotions you’d been supressing came crashing to the surface and for once, it actually felt good. You weren’t existing as a husk of armour anymore.
Hunter couldn’t stand the gap between you anymore and he got his feet in motion. He needed to be near you, he needed to hold you again. You didn’t seem to notice his movement though because you carried on talking.
“There was never anyone else, there could never be anyone else! You’re it for me and this-” You stopped and gestured to the half white skull insignia on your top layer. “When I had this and said that you were a part of me, I truly meant it! Even when we weren’t together, that feeling never faltered. Half my heart beats for myself and this family I was fortunate enough to find. The other half beats for you! You are so deeply engrained in my very being that when I didn’t have you, I could hardly call it living! And then I got you back, and I was flooded with all the emotions I’d been missing since that day we were separated, and they collided with everything I’d done wrong, and I just panicked! I entered self-sabotage mode and thought letting you out of my life was what I had to do! I ruined one of the few remaining good things in my life and was preparing myself to let it be so. Thankfully, it was pointed out to me just how incorrect I was and I’m sorry!”
Hunter kept slowly walking down the steps towards you, the heavy rain instantly cascading down his face and body, but he didn’t care. His sole focus was on you now and the words you were saying. The words that were now healing the open wound he’d had since leaving you in that run down apartment.
“I need to come back. I need to be with you and I’m sorry I got everything so wrong! I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you, but you have to let me come back!”
“Yes.” He said as he continued to shorten the distance between you both.
“This family is the light of my life. You are the light of my life. So, either, let me come with you or just shoot me because without you, without this squad, I am just a shell of a human being and I’m done feeling like that now! You have to let me come back!”
“Yes.” Hunter said again as he stopped in front of you.
“And I-” You cut yourself off as you finally registered what he was saying and that the space between you both was now only a matter of inches. “Really?”
Hunter nodded and his hand fell to your waist whilst the other cradled the side of your face.
“I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.” You whispered softly as your hand rested on his now unarmoured chest and you got utterly absorbed in the feeling of his heart pounding beneath your fingertips- each beat emphasising that this was real, you were actually with him now- and you had no doubt that he could pick up on the way your own pulse was racing.
“It’s okay.” He breathed. “I love you too.”
“I love you.” You croaked out again as you felt the emotions rise in the back of your throat.
“You never stopped being a part of me either.” He murmured, his breathing heavy as his self-restraint was hanging by a thread, but he needed you to be sure. “Can I-” Hunter started to ask as he angled his head and slowly brought his lips closer to yours.
“Yes.” You cut him off. If he didn’t kiss you now, you felt as though you might stop breathing.
Hunter swiftly bridged the remaining distance and the dread he’d been experiencing at the idea of never finding you, at the idea of leaving you behind instantly evaporated in this moment as he finally placed his lips on yours.
You sighed into the sensation of experiencing this again and what began as hesitant and careful, soon became a kiss between two people fuelled by passion who had been apart for far too long and who would never be apart again. You wrapped your arms around him and pressed yourself against him.
Hunter first made sure he held you securely in his arms but as the kiss progressed and both of you became more immersed in feeling each other once more, his hands started caressing everything he could find. The actions elicited a small but desperate noise from you which he already felt drunk off of and he needed to hear more of you. The rain that had once felt like a harsh cascade of cold, damp water now felt gentle and tepid. He got utterly absorbed in your warmth and he tasted the water on your lips, but the interference didn’t bother him, he just relished the feeling of having you back in his embrace again.
You faintly registered the sun breaking through and the rain lightened in its deluge as you kissed him. If it wasn’t such a perfect moment, you might’ve laughed at the cliched nature of it all, but you were too caught up in this feeling that you ignored it. You threaded your fingers in his hair and lightly tugged, soliciting that raspy and familiar groan from him and your stomach fluttered at the feeling.
Unfortunately, you couldn’t ignore your current injury any longer and you felt it strain as Hunter held you tighter to him in response to your actions.
Hunter forced himself to pull away upon feeling your wince, his chest heaving as he worked on getting oxygen back into his lungs, but you interrupted his incoming question by continuing to plant light, affectionate kisses on the rest of his face and he couldn’t help the low but happy laugh that he let out. He lightly grabbed your shoulders and took a slight step back to take you in. The way the sun fell across your face had his breath catching in his throat. Your eyes were bright and looking at him with an adoration that he knew was reflected in his own gaze and the blissful smile on your lips beautifully captured the feelings of this moment. He rested a hand on the side of your face.
You looked into his own shining dark brown eyes and leaned into his touch with a soft and content sigh.
Hunter continued to slowly caress your cheek. “Not to disrupt your healing journey, but I have to ask… where do you stand on Cid and Hemlock?”
“Oh, don’t worry, they’re getting fucked up. I have permission on that front.” You said with a decisive nod. “I just have to watch the line with those that aren’t exactly personally involved.”
Not going to question where this permission came from exactly, he was just grateful whatever had happened, had brought you back to him so he just focused on the last part. “I can help with that. And you can look out for me too. We don’t have to do this alone anymore.”
You gave him an agreeing and grateful smile before you planted another tender kiss to his lips and grabbed his hand as the two of you walked back to the ship.
“This you officially back with us now?” Wrecker asked with a grin as you stepped aboard.
“You won’t be able to get rid of me.” You replied with a small smile as you gazed around you. There were times where you had felt uncertain as to whether you would stand amongst these comforting and familiar walls again, and your senses were flooded with the memories you had created and shared here. You swallowed harshly as you saw Omega’s and Tech’s spaces, but you regained your composure as you walked along the hallway. Your hand traced along the bunk you shared with Hunter and a soft sigh left your lips as you were instantly reminded of the slightly more personal moments you had experienced there.
It felt good to be home.
“Ready?” Hunter asked as you finished in the cockpit. He came beside you and wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you tight to him as Wrecker put the ship in hyperspace.
The Man Out of Time [A ShadAmy and Silver Story]: Chapter 1
Pairing: Shadow the Hedgehog x Amy Rose
Description: It has been seven years of peace following the grueling war with Eggman and his army. Though it took time to rebuild what they have lost, life for the Freedom Fighters could not be better. Whether it's finding love or trying to run from their past, celebrating post-war times has been different for each of them.
All is well until a silver hedgehog comes knocking on Amy Rose's door to deliver the tragic news about an incredible force that seems to be the cause of the future's destruction.
Will anyone believe the mysterious hedgehog's cry for help? Or will he be left to fight for his future alone? Read to find out!
Warnings: None
Word Count: 2.1k
POV: Amy Rose
!! I do not own any of the art/gifs/borders used in my chapters. All credits to the rightful owners !!
I squinted my eyes as the unbarring, golden light of the sun shone in my face. I groaned and let out a small yawn and turned my back to the light before I blinded myself.
"Ugh, there goes my eight hours of sleep," I affirmed to myself as I relentlessly arose from my bed and rubbed my eyes. "What else could go wrong today?"
Today was yet another failed, semi-sleepless night for me. Recently, I have been having a lot of those because of restless nights filled with flashbacks and nightmares about my past.
About...him.
He has been the one plaguing the back of my mind for the last 10 years since the day he left me without a single goodbye. As much I tried to push the memory of his sudden disappearance, I couldn't help but wonder about the reason behind his sudden abandonment of me. Why did he leave me when he knew he was the only one I had left? The only thing I had left of the mess I call a family.
I looked to my right, my phone was still ringing.
'If you hadn't interrupted me, how would I have laid awake here? What else what I have dreamed about?'
I shook my head, and when the phone stopped vibrating, I saw that Sonic had called me nine times.
'Oh no! The get-together! I completely forgot!' I reached for my phone and nearly melted into my bed when I saw I still had an hour to get ready. 'I still have time!'
I jerked up when my phone started to ring again. Sonic's name and photo shined in my face and I quickly answered it.
"Morning Ames," Sonic's usual friendly voice flooded the phone. "You're still pulling through, right?"
"Yeah, sorry, I was busy with something! Is everything okay?"
"Yeah, everything is more than okay. Cream and Tails just showed, it was weird not seeing you with them. I thought it was a good idea to check up in with you."
"Oh, yeah, I'm fine, sorry I was busy this morning, but I'll be there soon!"
"Okay, take your time, see you then!"
"Bye!" I exclaimed and hung up before he could say anything in return. "I need to get ready, fast!"
I rushed to my closet and began to change out of my nightwear and into a fresh, cherry red dress along with a cool-toned peach blazer. I took a brief second to check myself in the mirror, and I realized the tiredness on my face.
I was much paler than usual, and I had deep, dark bags under my eyes that not even concealer could fix.
'I won't be able to excuse myself out of this one,' I winced, looking away from my reflection. 'Knowing Rouge...she'll interrogate me for sure!'
I sighed, mentally preparing myself for what to come and dashed out the door, almost tripping as I tried to close it.
'It's so lively out today!' I smile, taking in the soft morning rays.
The view of the clear blue sky and the feel of the fresh, spring breeze were the first things to greet me as I walked down from my doorstep to the sidewalk. I was sure to take in the rest of the lovely nature that surrounded me. I watched with a smile as the birds chirped in the peach and cherry trees, and colorful butterflies fluttered around fruit bushes and sweet nectar flowers.
'Maybe today won't be so bad after all.'
"Sonic sounded really excited on the phone, I wonder what this party is about!" I giggled to myself, letting my mind race at the number of things Sonic could be so ecstatic about.
'Then again, I might be giving him too much credit,' My shoulders drop as I remember that the former Freedom Fighter leader called me distress when he found out his girlfriend never tired a chilly dog. 'He can win a war, but has the maturity level of a child.'
I sigh as I approached his doorstep and walked up to the slate-covered door to give it a soft knock. I heard loud footsteps approach, and the sudden opening of the door made me take a step back and squeak in surprise.
"Amy!" Sonic's loud voice greeted me as he engulfed me in a bear hug. I hugged him back and quietly said hello to him. He pulled back and smiled at me. "Come in, the rest of the gang already here!"
Sonic rushed inside his house, and I slowly followed in suit, closing the door behind me. A quick rush of anxiety filled my body when I saw all my friends in Sonic's living room, talking amongst themselves. It's been about a month since I have seen or spoken to any of my friends, mostly due to my own anxiety of telling anyone of them about him.
I felt as everyone's eyes fell on me, and I awkwardly gave a small wave as I approached them.
"Good morning, everybody!" I heard a union of 'morning' greetings and warm smiles from my friends. Cream, Cheese, and Rouge got up from where they were sitting to come and greet me. 'So far, so good!'
"Amy! It's so great to see you again!" Cream squealed as she and Cheese embraced me.
"Chao Chao!"
I smiled and hugged her tightly, a wave of sadness hit me slightly, I really did miss her warm, honey-sweet voice.
"Hey hun, don't forget about me!" I gently unwrap my arms from Cream to greet Rouge, who I also missed in the past month. She hugged me tightly and swung me from side to side a little. "Ah, I missed you girl, where have you been?" I felt my body stiffen as she asked me that. My mind seemed to go blank as I let out an unsure 'uh' from my mouth. Rouge let go of me and clasped her hands on my cheeks to examen my face. "Are you okay? You look tired."
I averted my eyes from her concerned gaze and took a step back. The room grew quiet, and the anxiety in me rose once more. The feeling of everyone's eyes burning holes into me drove me mad.
"Yeah, I'm fine!" I flashed a fake, reassuring smile and gave out an exhausted laugh. "Don't worry about me. I just didn't get enough sleep last night, that's all."
"Are you sure nothing is wrong, Amy? You can always talk to us, we are your friends," I looked at Cream nervously and lightly sighed. "We care about you."
"I know. I just couldn't sleep, I swear." I shut my eyes, pleading for this interrogation to stop. "You know I'm a terrible liar."
'Smooth way to out yourself as a good liar.'
"Well, if you say so, hun. We just worry, okay?" Rouge reassured me in a calming tone. "Can you blame us for asking? It's been a while since any of us have seen you in person."
"I'm going to head to the restroom," I blurted out nervously. "I'll be back in a second."
"Sally and Sonic made breakfast, I'll fix you a plate, okay hun?"
"Thanks Rouge, I'll only be a bit!"
I gave the two girls a smile before excusing myself and headed in the direction of Sonic's bathroom. I felt as if my heart was going to erupt from the pent up frustration of not being able to express myself openly in front of my own friends.
"Rose."
The sound of that name startled me. I knew only one person who called me that.
"Shadow! Good morning, sorry, I didn't see you, I assumed you had passed off on this offer."
Shadow was reclining against a blue slate wall. He was only inches away from the doorway that lead to the bathroom and other rooms in the house. His eyes were shut, and he looked relaxed from what I could see.
"It seemed important to him," I smiled a bit, wanting to laugh. Shadow has a mind of his own, only showing up when he wants to, or if he needs too. "He also wouldn't shut up about it."
'So that's the real reason.'
"Y-yeah, I wonder what it could be. I imagine something important if he was pestering you so much about it."
"I suppose."
I stood there for a second, just staring over him. Last time I saw Shadow, I was having lunch with him. It was the anniversary of Maria's death. He doesn't usually like to be alone on those days.
I felt something pang in my lower abdomen. I remember why I was near this doorway now.
"S-sorry, give me one second."
I rushed into the bathroom and quickly when to relieve myself. When I was done, I went to wash my hands. Suddenly, I felt sweaty while I thought of my conversation with Shadow.
'Did he seem mad? He wasn't talking to much when I saw him.' I shut off the water, and when to dry my hands with the towel hanging beside the sink. 'No, why would he be mad. I haven't even seen him all this month. What is there to be mad about?'
I sighed, gripping onto the edges of the sink.
'Why am I so bad at this?' I shook my head. 'I need to calm down. Rouge and Cream are probably still waiting for me outside.'
I wiped my hands on the fluffy blue towel by the sink and folded it back up nicely. I looked up at the mirror and pushed a few quills to the side.
'I'll worry about it later. Shadow's probably talking with everyone else by now. He won't be there when I get out anyway. There is nothing to worry about!'
I shut the light off and, with a shaky hand, unlocked the door. When I opened it, I was relieved to see no one was there.
'Nothing to worry about!'
"I know you're lying."
The words surged through my body like piercing electricity. Shadow was in the exact same place as he was before. His eyes were still shut, his stance hadn't changed a bit. Which wasn't surprising. I hadn't been away for too long. Still, it was out of character for him to say something like that to me.
'He seems to care about what I'm feeling. We've had out small moments in the past. I wouldn't expect for him to confront me about this like this.'
I smiled at him nervously. I would hope he'd assume I'm awkward rather than anxiously trying to hid what was really going wrong in my life.
"Don't avoid the obvious, Rose. I know you're not telling us something. You've been gone for well over a month without any explanation or contact with anyone, and when you do suddenly appear, you look frail, drained, and exhausted. Something isn't right."
I stood there in troubled awe.
'How was he able to read me so well?'
A cold shiver of fear erupted in my body as a tear slide down my cheek. I attempted to laugh it off to get him off my tail but obviously failed miserably as more tears escaped my eyes. I quickly looked away from him when I felt his piercing stares. The stares of people always made me anxious, no matter how many times I try to ignore it, it always makes me feel nervous. I squeezed my eyes shut, preparing myself to walk away from him to not further embarrass myself when I felt something warm wrap around me tightly.
'Was Shadow...hugging me?'
I gained the courage to open my eyes and was met with my face near a tuft of white fur and arms place softly on my waist. I felt the heat rush to my cheeks and the pounding of my heart in my chest, but not out of anxiety, but out of giddy nervousness.
"No more tears, Rose, talk to me after. Please."
With wide eyes, I nodded and slowly released myself out of his grip. As I walked back down to Rouge and Cream, they stopped their conversation to look up at me.
"Are you okay?" Rouge asked as I sat down next to here. "Here, I fixed you something."
"Don't forget the fork!" Cream added, stabbing the fork into the stack of pancakes.
"Seriously, it looks like you've seen a ghost," Rouge handed me the plate. I silently thanked her and situated it on my lap. "Or worse."
"No, I'm okay," I responded. "Thanks girls, I'm just hungry."
"Alright, well, eat up. Who knows what Sonic gathered us here for in such a hurry." Rouge smiled. I couldn't bear to smile back.
'He's right,' I thought as I shoveled a pieces of berries and whipped cream into my mouth. 'I'm a liar.'
The Kind Of Love You Only Find Once In A Lifetime - Steve Rogers x Reader (Prologue)
A/N: This whole fic is dedicated to the wonderful @anika-ann because she was the one who reblogged the wartime footage gifs that inspired all this and I promised I'd write it 😉
Summary: Tony finds some old war footage of Steve which features someone very special to him
Word Count: 892
Warnings: Angst! Flashbacks!
Dividers by @firefly-graphics
Masterlist
The Kind Of Love You Only Find Once In A Lifetime
Steve took a deep breath, screwing his eyes shut as he waited for the most recent flashback to leave his mind, but it just seemed permanently seared in his brain, tattooed on the inside of his eyelids. Clenching his fists he threw his first punch at the bag, the satisfying crack making his eyes snap open as he continued to throw punches. Praying that with every punch the pain would just stop.
Steve had been living in this new modern world for just under a year now, his new friends had tried to help him adjust some more than others, but settled was not the word he would use. Frankly, he didn’t think he’d ever feel settled in this new life. How could he when everything and everyone he had was back in the forties?
With his last punch, he spotted a small droplet of blood running down the leather of the bag. He paused, brows furrowing as he watched the droplet work down the bag before dropping onto the floor. Looking down at his fists he saw the wrapping around his knuckles was soaked with blood.
He needed to stop, he knew that. He could practically hear that voice in his head, the one that he simultaneously wished would stop and never go away, telling him to stop. He gave into that voice, knowing it was right, it was always right. He stepped away from the bag and began to unwrap his hands, seeing just how damaged his knuckles were. They would heal up perfectly fine and quickly on their own but that voice told him to go clean them properly so he did.
As he made his way back to his room he heard the rest of the team talking in the cinema room, as well as a voice that did not belong to this time period. Curiosity got the better of him, as he walked in he instantly recognised the footage on the screen. It was all the old footage from his time in the war.
“Where- where did you get this?” he asks, clearing his throat when he feels it begin to break.
“Dad’s old archives, it proved useful in the past,” Tony says tapping his arc reactor “So I thought I’d go through everything else see if there was anything important” he explains “found all these old reels, some said unusable on them but I asked JARVIS to compile it all together and Ta-Da” he says gesturing to the large screen.
Steve just hummed with a small nod of his head as he stared up at the screen. His heart was pounding in his chest and his mind was telling him to leave, save himself the heartbreak. But his heart kept his feet firmly planted where he stood because only it knew the connection Steve had to this footage.
The first reel with the narration ended and there were a couple of seconds of a black screen before it came back to life with more footage of him. However this time almost every clip had him looking towards the camera. To begin with, it was only for a split second but over time the gazes became longer and a smile would form on his face.
“No wonder they couldn’t use this footage, Cap keeps looking into the camera! You’re breaking the number one rule!” Nat laughs shaking her head at him.
“I wasn’t” Steve mutters.
“Yeah you are look at you” Nat argues pointing up at the screen.
“I wasn’t looking at the camera” Steve states quietly, unable to say it any louder with the lump in his throat, looking down at the floor so they wouldn’t see the tears in his eyes.
When the screen went black again Steve cleared his throat and went to leave, he was by the door but he froze when he heard Clint say “Who’s the girl?”
Steve didn’t even need to look at the screen to know exactly what girl it was and it was not just some girl. It was the owner of the voice in his head that he couldn't help but listen to. His body operated on autopilot as he walked back into the room and looked back up at the screen.
His breath caught and the lump in his throat doubled in size. There was no sound but Steve could hear the laughter so clearly, there was no way Steve would ever forget that laugh. He had no clue this footage even existed, his heart ached as watched as the girl on the screen laughed and tried to push the camera away.
Eventually, the screen went black and remained that way but Steve could not take his eyes off the screen praying that it would restart and he could see it all over again.
“Who was that Steve?” Nat asked her voice softer than before.
“It… it uh was someone very special to me” Steve manages to say, he quickly sniffles before glancing back at Tony “Can um… is there a way I could have a copy?” he asks.
Tony shifted in his seat “Sure, JARVIS can you get on that?”
“Already did Sir” The AI responded.
“Thank you,” Steve said quietly before quickly turning to make his way back to his room so he could go rewatch the footage of you over and over again.
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