#gonna play block tales eventually... maybe

[trasho-pando2011]

y'all know any ACTUALLY good roblox games?

[astralspen]

Unconditionally, We Will Cherish You

Synopsis; Reader fakes their own death, but everyone still finds them, even if it took a year

Reader is mc, Hurt/Comfort, All Li's x Reader, Can be read as platonic or romantic, Implied Self-Harm

2k words

AO3|Masterlist

Well, shit. Maybe you should've thought twice about joining, and then staying, in that server. Maybe you should've called the cops, or at least left them a tip. Actually, no, that's one of the few good decisions you've made. Ronin definitely would've hunted you down for that. Well, you say that like he hadn't been doing that from the beginning.

Well, either way, you're not part of that anymore. You shouldn't have been in the first place. You're no killer, you're not ruthless, hard set on some ideal or moral code, angry at some group of people, or even simply insane enough to even warrant that kind of behavior. Even if you wish you were, sometimes.

Not that you're gonna go out stabbing people or anything! I mean, its tempting, sometimes, especially when you see whatever the media is covering, or remember the things your old job made you cover, and think about how better it could be if people like that never existed, but you're never going to be that kind of person. Not with the mental wall blocking you. What it's built of, you don't know, but you've never been one to want to break it down to care.

But that's why you left, isn't it? You didn't feel alone, for once in your life, but that was never your space to make a home in. You thought you could hide, could pretend to be something you're not, but you suppose all tales must be told eventually.

Ronin always knew, but he let you slide. Still, it let an unease settle permanently in your gut. Like you were being watched, observed. The others, though, they had thought you were one of them. You thought it'd be alright, stupidly enough. Even though you had been too scared to get close enough to someone for them to want to defend you.

You still have a cold, dreadful chill flowing down your spine whenever you think about it. Your throat tightening as your mind forgets to make your body breathe. When Ronin became accusatory, slowly pulling back the layers of how you weren't what you said you were. Sure, Felicie and Luca half defended you, and Ronin let you off the hook after a bit, but you knew you weren't safe anymore.

You could imagine Ronin's taunts, that even after being there for months you still couldn't become close enough for anyone to defend you, even though you obviously adored them. Maybe he wouldn't. You doubt it. He never tried to hide the fact that he played with his prey, after all. And right now, you were as much prey as a mouse was to a snake. Not just to him, either, but to everyone else at this point, probably.

So, you disappeared. You faded into a simple news article, a headline for a day to never be spoken of again. Perhaps your office would give everyone courtesy leave, a simple excuse to take the day off. They'd thank you for the rest, and you'd never be thought of again. It's not like you had any friends outside of that server, and it's not like you could really call them friends, either. After all, you were always too scared to talk. The love you felt wasn't enough to overcome or forget your fear.

It took a month of prep, during which you never spoke in that server, for fear of destroying it before you could flee, but after that, you had quietly turned that little apartment into a murder scene.

Your blood, not a lot, but enough to stain a knife and your floor a bit. Quick mentions of how it felt like someone was watching you, something that wasn't odd, considering how recently an officer stationed nearby kept throwing glances at you when he thought you weren't looking. Getting new papers, setting up a new job with them, and renting a new apartment, all for a different city, half a month in advance. A little expensive, but you had plenty of money saved for when you wrote your novel, as you had always wanted to self publish it.

Now, you worked from home, in a new apartment, in a new city. You still wrote, but the genre had changed. It was peaceful for a year. No killers, no hunting, just you, your computer, and the quiet things in life. You'd watch Angel's videos, read mangas Misaki had mentioned to the server, and occasionally, look at the news articles covering everyone's latest kills.

Of course, you shouldn't have expected it to last forever.

A knock on your door. Controlled, methodical, and precise. You didn't think much of it at first, you usually had something arriving on your doorstep. Whether that be the groceries you had gotten too scared the day before to go out and get yourself, or a package of whatever random things you had ordered this week.

So you didn't think twice about opening up the door. You really should have.

You froze when you saw V there. What had happened? Was it not convincing enough? Should you have held off longer, waited till more of your own blood spilled to place it amongst the mess you left behind? Should you have hidden somewhere temporarily before going to your new life? Should you not have been watching Angel's videos, or reading those stories, or checking those articles?

You couldn't move. Your throat felt tight and everything was stiff and you thought that this was the moment where you truly would die. You wanted to scream, to run, to do anything aside from stare stupidly at the man in front of you like a deer in the headlights.

What were you supposed to do in this situation? What could you possibly do to not even survive this but just make it hurt less than it was—

"I will not hurt you, Mc."

What?

"Why—"

He took a deep breath.

What would he say? You couldn't run from this. You wanted to. You were always good at that, if nothing else, so why can't you—

"I will not hurt you, Mc."

You don't get it. You really just can't understand it. Does he not know? That's ridiculous, you disappeared from the sever days after that event, there's no way he wouldn't connect the dots. You can't understand this— any of this..!!

You felt something grab onto you, and you tried to pull away. You don't care if he hurts you, but please, please, you can't handle him pretending to care— pretending that he didn't want you buried six feet under! You can't handle facing the fact that none of them really—!

…you felt someone's thumb rubbing your wrist. Slow and steady circles. There was talking, you think it was there earlier, but you can't tell. You can never tell.

Your eyes clear— when did they grow foggy? —and you see V, staring at you.

He looks concerned. Why does he look concerned?

"Please, allow me to explain myself," He spoke as if pained.

You couldn't understand any of this. You didn't want to, anymore. It would just hurt, and you can't handle that again—

But… you always were weak, weren't you?

So, you step aside, and let him in. He let's go of your wrist as you do, and you breathe. No more pretending, no more lying.

He shuts the door behind him. You stiffen a bit. No more running.

"You.. are not a serial killer, correct?"

You nod. You wait for your execution. Your heart squeezes in preparation for its own demise, your brain overwhelms with fear and preparation for living with a broken organ, beating but dead.

He sighs. It's coming, you know it is, and all you can do is stand here pathetically waiting for—

"Mc. I promise, I will not hurt you. Not now, and not ever. If you believe nothing else, then believe that."

"Why— Why wouldn't you— I lied to you, I lied to all of you!! I was just someone pretending to be something else, something I can never be just because—!!"

He's holding your arms, tight, squeezing, just like how your chest feels as the tears just won't stop flowing and the fear won't stop suffocating and you can't help but shake as—

As someone talks to you. Who- who is talking to you? It's so kind, much kinder than whatever has been drowning you.

"Mc—! You're really— are you— no stupid question— what happened?!?"

Misaki?

They hurry towards you and V are in the couch—when did you two end up here?—and begin fussing over you.

"Misaki, calm down a bit. You're going to overwhelm them more."

Angel??

She's standing to the side, and you can see her nervously fidgeting with her hands while she tries to give you a reassuring smile.

"Aw, c'mon Angel, our little writer darling handled us for so long, surely they can handle a little appreciation."

Ronin???

He's halfway through an open window. You're pretty sure you're giving him a really weird face, since Misaki and Angel start laughing. You can even feel Vs hands shaking a bit as he stifles his own.

"What— What the hell is happening…?" Oh your voice is cracked to shit.

"You really thought we were just gonna let you run away, tail between your legs, after so long with us? C'mon, darling, you should've known by now that were not the type to let our prey go," Ronin speaks with that signature smirk of his plastered on his face.

Angel elbows him.

"What he means to say is that we missed you, Mc. You had us all worried when you disappeared."

"Yeah!! No matter what, you're one of us now!"

V nods.

"And if I recall, you've said before how you considered us your closest friends. I don't believe we could call ourselves worthy of the title if we didn't try searching for you."

You scoff.

"That's not— why would you need to be worthy of that? I don't even know how you guys figured out I was alive…"

"Like we'd believe you'd been done in my some random person. Besides, if anyone's gonna end you in, it's gonna be us."

"That and a certain someone—"

Angel side eyes Ronin as she speaks.

"Refused to believe you were gone. Even when the police records showed your blood was on the scene."

"It was impressive to see that the notorious Devils Butcher had a heart."

"Yeah!! You should've been there, Mc. I mean, how many times does anyone get to see sappy Ronin!? We've gotta make that a server holiday or something!!"

You laugh.

"A server holiday? Really, Misaki?"

"Oh come on, you know it'd be cool!! Ooh!!! And— if we're doing that— we've definitely gotta commemorate today too!!"

"Oh I can definitely set both of those up."

Angel laughs again, bright and unfettered, this time.

"I won't ever say no to seeing our impenetrable server owner have his guard down for once. Besides, we have to celebrate our dear writer coming back somehow."

"And what better way to celebrate your resurrection than to eat some good food, yeah?"

Ronin calls out from the kitchen.

"Wha— hey! Are you looking my pantry!?"

"It's not looting if I'm a guest, darling."

"You broke the lock on my window!! How is that being a guest??"

"Wait I call chips!!!"

Misaki hurries over.

"I think we should catch up, unless you want an empty pantry and nothing for the rest of us," Angel chimes in, and despite the exasperation, you can tell she's having fun.

"Even if they do, I will pay for a restock. This is partially my doing, after all, considering I am the one who told everyone you were here."

You smile.

"Don't worry about it, V. Let's just go claim our share before they hoard it all."

With that you two get up from the couch, and, alongside Angel, head over to the chaos in your kitchen. You're smiling the whole way there.

You know, you think, you're going to be ok now. Now that you've got your friends with you. Now that you know they're sticking around for good.

You think that now, no matter what comes next, you'll be ready to face it, especially with them by your side.

A/N; Tysm for reading! This was originally meant to be around 1k, but it ended up double that, whoops lmao. I had fun writing it though!

AO3|Masterlist

[sebdoesthings]

So I follow you because I stumbled on your Witcher fic on AO3. But the tags on the "unskippable cutscene" post got me curious. What are your headcanons on the Plague Tale games?

God, you've really gone and done it now

Idk if you've played the second game, so if you haven't uhhhh don't read this? idk, suit yourself, I'm gonna share one headcanon that isn't too spoilery (meaning it's from the middle of the game and not the end)

So my headcanon is that before Arnaud was a knight, he was a sailor. I think this is pretty much confirmed by various things, some in the context of the game, others outside of it.

[Edit: I have had to reformat this post because apparently on dash if you click expand on a long post it automatically opens a read more, so I'm moving the read more up here for spoiler reasons. It's not what I'd like, but oh well.]

Firstly, my in-game evidence

Hugo and Amicia go through the game telling multiple people about the island they're searching for, but no one can ever pinpoint it from the description they give. Then at the beginning of chapter 7, we learn that Arnaud knows not only exactly what island they're looking for, he knows its name and location (as evidenced by the fact he tells Amicia it's a "ten mile fucking swim" from where they are).

Now, how did he learn about La Cuna? How did he learn the siblings were looking for it? Surely not from Hugo at the end of chapter 6, because that was a very time sensitive situation, as Amicia was about to be eaten by rats. And besides, at that point, Arnaud had already hunted them down again, but obviously had no longer any intentions of killing Amicia, since he stepped up to Hugo instead of just watching her be eaten from afar.

This means that he knew about the island before he made his deal with Hugo. So my guess is that it has to do with why he was looking for Vaudin in chapter 2 (a question i've seen pop up multiple times online). It's never exactly specified whether the Count was affiliated with the order (or if it was I missed it in the chaos that was the last third of the game), but I don't think it's a coincidence that he moved to the very place where the macula originated. SO I think that Arnaud was looking for Vaudin to trace Victor through the order. Obviously Amicia got there first (probably leading Arnaud to believe she works with the order, fuelling his disdain for her), but what if Arnaud eventually made it into Vaudin's lab? What if he saw the mural of La Cuna and recognised it? And how would he recognise it from just a picture? That's right, by being familiar with the mediterranean sea.

Another piece of evidence is that he knows a lot about ships. In Chapter 7, when the siblings crest the hill and overlook the sea, Arnaud comes up from behind them and tells them about Sophia's ship. A discreet, fast ship. I don't know about you, but I don't think I could tell whether a ship is fast just from looking at it. Discreet, maybe, but not fast.

We know from Arnaud that Sophia owes him for not killing her when he was ordered to. And wouldn't you agree that it would be pretty idiotic to send footmen to deal with smugglers in their sailing ships? You need sailors for that. Preferably soldiers who were once sailors, so they can both capture the smugglers' ship and do away with the smugglers themselves.

And then, once they get to the ship, Sophia trusts Arnaud to get the ship ready to set sail. And when the anchor gets stuck, he knows right away that it was blocked. He doesn't think it might have caught on something, he knows its blocked, probably from experience and the way it feels. Then, when it comes to hoisting the sail, he knows right away which ropes to pull, and he says he'll "take port-side". If he didn't know about ships, he would hardly know that term - I sure don't.

Later, during an optional scene at the beginning of chapter 8, Sophia says she needs a hand because "the sail's pulling port side", so Arnaud takes charge and tells Amicia to pull the rope on the other side, and that he'll give her some slack on his. Again, he knows which ropes to pull and how to fix Sophia's problem, and she doesn't feel the need to instruct the two on what to do. The same thing happens again in chapter 14, as well.

This man knows what he's doing. Clearly he has sailing experience.

Now for my evidence from sources other than in-game. There are more serious endgame spoilers here, so don't read if you haven't finished the game yet (Pii, if you're reading this, click off now. I mean it. Don't.)

Right, so in the gameplay reveal trailer for Requiem, Harry Myers, who is Arnaud's voice actor, recites the poem "Requiem" by Robert Louis Stevenson (I know, I went insane when I learned the poem is called Requiem too).

When I first heard it I already thought it actually fit Arnaud well even outside of his VA performing it, but I told myself I was just being delusional, and that it was obviously intended for Amicia and Hugo, since they are the focus of the trailer.

Well.

I was wrong.

This set of tweets pretty much confirms that the poem was chosen with Arnaud in mind.

And with THAT in mind, the line "Home is the sailor, home from sea" is also applied to him. Maybe this seems like a reach, maybe I'm reading too much into it because I want it to be true, but I would not put it past the people who chose a poem whose title matches the game title to do this on purpose.

So yeah.

this is my case for why Arnaud Malpart used to be a sailor.

Thanks for coming to my TED talk. I DID turn into an unskippable cutscene.

[ynscrazylife]

The Cold is Her Savior

A Wanda version was requested of “50% Ice, 50% Fire, 100% Smitten” so you ask and you shall receive! 

Requested by @capmarvelq

Summary: Y/N has a crush on Wanda, and Wanda has a crush on her. Y/N doesn’t like using her ice powers because she hates the cold, but she’s forced to when Wanda is in danger, and feelings are revealed. 

“Y/N, Wanda,” Steve said as he entered the Avengers Tower living room. The team had been sitting there, all chatting and watching the T.V. Y/N had been talking with Natasha and Wanda with Clint, but both women looked up when they heard their names. 

The Captain smiled, pausing before continuing. “I have a mission for you two.” 

Y/N’s eyebrows raised and her eyes lit up with interest - it wasn’t so common that you’d go on a mission with not all of the team, but that wasn’t it. Y/N was going on a mission with her crush, and she was beyond excited.

Little did she know that Wanda had returned her feelings, and she had gasped and grasped onto Clint’s arm in her surprise, nearly breaking it. 

Immediately, the two scrambled up to follow Steve to the conference room. The rest of the team poorly concealed their chuckles, seeing them both so energetic. Everyone was aware of their crushes on each other, except them. 

“I think Rogers paired them up on purpose,” Natasha whispered to Clint with a smirk. 

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“Okay,” Steve began, closing the conference door and turning to the two Avengers. “We need you to gather intel on this private organization. We got a tip that they’re planning something against the Avengers and important information regarding it is stored inside one of the old members’ house. His family, who seem to be unaware of what he is doing, is hosting a gala and we expect some of the members of this organization to be there. You need to find the information before they do and, if possible, take the guys back to S.H.I.E.L.D. Banner will be coming for medical, just in case, and Barton will be coming to act from the van. We need you two out there because we think the guys have powers - Inhumans, maybe.” 

Y/N and Wanda nodded. 

“When do we leave?” Wanda asked. 

“Right after you get your disguises,” Steve answered. 

Y/N grinned. 

------------------------------------------------------- 

“See anyone suspicious?” 

“Clint, we literally just set foot into the place,” Y/N said quietly into her headpiece, rolling her eyes at the archer who couldn’t see her. Wanda caught that and flashed her a smile, obviously amused. 

Y/N nearly fainted. ‘Mission, Y/N. You and Wanda have a mission,’ she reminded herself sternly. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’m gonna get cracking on seeing if I can identify our enemies,” Clint said, and they heard some shuffling. 

“You do that,” Wanda said, Y/N having joined the witch by her side so it wouldn’t look like Wanda was just talking to herself. “Y/N and I will dance.” 

Y/N stopped in her tracks, fear flooding her. She stared dumbly at the redhead for a moment. “W-what?” She spluttered, confused. 

“Dance, Y/N! We need to blend in,” Wanda said with a giggle. 

Oh, boy, did that giggle make Y/N’s heart flutter. 

“Okay,” she agreed quietly and nervously, and barely contained her excitement when Wanda led her onto the dance floor, as more classical music started playing. 

“You know the waltz?” Wanda asked, teasingly. 

As they danced, Y/N was sure that this was what heaven was. Wanda danced so gracefully, and Y/N’s cheeks burned, imagining how clumsy she was. She nearly stepped on her friend’s toes! Occasionally, the redhead would twirl her around, and Y/N couldn’t ignore the chill that’d go down her spine, nor could she deny how she felt so special and so loved.

“I’ve identified them and found out where the information is,” Clint broke in, effectively ruining Y/N’s great dream. She found herself feeling a little out of sorts. While dancing she almost forgot that they were doing something important. 

“The two guys by the bar, the one dancing with the women in the white dress to your right, and the two guys by the food table are them. I think whatever information is stored on a computer on the second floor, third room to the left,” Clint continued. 

Wanda twirled Y/N around once more before responding to him. “I can go find the information, and I’ll turn off comms to secure the cover. Y/N, you wanna keep them occupied?” She asked. 

Y/N nodded, but didn’t like the idea of Wanda turning her comms off. 

Together, the two thought up a tale and then managed to get to the two men by the bar. 

“You gentleman wouldn’t happen to know where the bathroom is?” Wanda asked. 

The men shared a glance. “Second floor, fourth door to your right,” the guy on the left answered. 

Wanda nodded, thanking him, before leaving. 

Y/N put on a smile as another song came on. She gasped. “Would one of you care to dance with me whilst I wait for my friend?” She asked. 

“Uhh, sure,” the guy on the right answered, and he stepped forward to take Y/N’s hands. 

“I’ll get drinks,” the other guy said. 

Y/N and the man danced for a couple minutes and his friend handed them drinks. Y/N sipped hers and continued to dance, while also casting glances on the room, keeping her eyes on all of their enemies. 

However, she started to feel a bit odd . . . It was probably nothing, however Y/N excused herself from her dancing partner for a moment to alert Clint. The dress she was wearing was actually her superhero suit (it could change its appearance quickly). The suit had a cool feature where it could analyze a liquid or food that seemed abnormal, in case of poison or knock-out gas. 

It only took a couple of moments for Clint to get back to her. “Y/N, Bruce looked it over. It’s slowly blocking your powers so eventually you won’t be able to use them until the liquid is out of your system. It only detects and works if it’s ingested by someone with powers,” he said quickly. 

“Shit,” Y/N whispered, because at the same time she saw two of the guys disappearing the same way Wanda had gone. 

She had to follow them, and she had to be quick.

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Y/N took off frantically, but not that frantically to cause too much suspicion. As she walked to the stairs she saw the men get to the second floor, and when she got there herself, she heard a scream. 

Y/N ran forward, unable to comprehend what Clint was telling her, and burst into the room. 

Her amazing Wanda had her arms over her head, stumbling around in pain, as she stood in front of the computer. The men were on either side of her using their powers on her. 

Y/N went to use her ice power to send a fireball their way, so powerful that it’d make them both crash into the wall but would otherwise do no damage. However, nothing was happening. Whatever was in her drink must have deactivated her heating powers already. 

She had to use her cold powers, which she hated, or else both of them, plus the mission, were screwed. 

Y/N took a deep breath and with a wave of her hands, she made the floor underneath the two men pure ice. Then, thrusting her hands down and breaking her concentration, the ice cracked and both men fell through the floor to the first floor. 

Seconds later, though, Y/N screamed as she felt some sort of immense pain hit her. She stumbled, and the last thing she saw before collapsing and passing out was Wanda angrily using her powers on someone. 

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“Please, Y/N, wake up, okay? I really, really need you too! Oh, god, I should have told you earlier, and now that Bruce says you might slip into a coma . . . I-I love you, Y/N! And . . . I need you to be awake so that I can actually tell you, cause I’ve had a crush on you for the longest time.” 

Y/N didn’t open her eyes, but she was able to make out what this person - Wanda, was it? - was saying. Before she could respond, though, she drifted back into unconsciousness. 

-------------------------------------------------------  

When Y/N came to, she found herself lying in the Avengers Tower medical bay, hooked up to an I.V and other machines. She tried to recall what happened . . . Wanda was in danger . . . She used her ice powers . . . The rest was blank. Looking around the room, she spotted the very women in question sitting in a chair. 

“Y/N!” Wanda said, scrambling to get up and leaping to her side. 

“Hey . . .” Y/N said, finding that her voice was croaking. “What happened?” 

“Right after you saved me, one of the guys used his powers on you. Caused you a lot of pain, even more so because your powers were deactivating, and it overwhelmed you. You nearly slipped into a coma . . . but it’s been a day since the mission,” Wanda answered. 

Y/N nodded slowly, although her eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she remembered something else . . . 

“Did you, uh, happen to confess your love to me?” She asked sheepishly. 

Wanda’s eyes went wide. “You heard that?” She asked, horrified. 

Y/N nodded again. “Yeah . . . For the record, I love you, too.” She smiled.

[sunlight-moonrise]

The Five Dates (Reid Request)

Summary: Reader decides that she wants to help Spencer experience the things he missed out on when he was a teenager. 

A/N: I had a couple of people ask for a part 2 to The Five Times so here it is. Originally was gonna leave that fic as a standalone but writer’s block on my other WIPs led to this sequel. I strongly recommend reading the first part before reading this one so that the story-line makes more sense. As always, thank you to the lovely @spencer-reid-in-a-pool and​ @wishingwellwriting​ for being fantastic betas. They have amazing fics, so if you need another Spencer Reid fix, they can most definitely deliver. Enjoy!

Category: Fluff

Content Warnings: None

Word Count: 6.0K

Masterlist

The first date I had with my neighbor, I don’t think it really counted as a date.

Spencer and I were eating dinner at my apartment after he told me the man who tried to attack me was in custody. We were sitting on the couch with the TV on but I didn’t know what was playing since we were talking the whole time.

He told me that he does magic tricks, enjoys ghost stories, and loves to learn. In return, I told him my favorite hobbies, some habits that I can’t get out of, and food that I enjoy cooking. He listened with rapt attention, hanging on to every word I said. It was amazing being able to spend time with someone like this. It felt like I’ve known him for years rather than a few months.

“…and that’s probably my worst experience from school,” I finished, recounting the tales of my teenage years. “What about you? Anything you wish you can take back from the early days?”

Spencer suddenly turned away from me and became silent. I looked at him in confusion. Was it something I said? Did I offend him?

“Oh, I—I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?” I asked, my voice coming out as a whisper because of how low I spoke.

He quickly shook his head, as if driving away some bad thoughts that plagued his mind. “It’s not you. It’s just that I was a 12-year-old prodigy at a public high school in Vegas. I didn’t have a lot of fun experiences.”

I could hear the sorrow in his words when he told me this. I know how cruel kids could be, especially to someone they considered an outcast. My heart ached for the little boy who went through so much misery at such an early age.

There were a few more seconds of silence before I had a lightbulb moment. “Well, maybe we can change that,” I suggested. “We can do some things that typical teenagers do.” A million ideas immediately came to mind. We can go bowling or ice skating or bike riding.

“I don’t know. I kind of got over that point of my life.”

“Oh.” There was no hiding the sadness in my voice, which made me feel worse. There’s no reason for me to feel dejected over his statement. I shouldn’t be so selfish.

Spencer must have sensed that something was off with me because he quickly tried to correct himself. “It’s not that I don’t want to have these experiences. I just find it embarrassing that I haven’t had them yet, even now.”

“I’m not going to judge you, Spencer. I don’t want you to feel embarrassed with me,” I assured him. I moved my hand towards his as an offer to hold, which he surprisingly took. His hand completely enveloped mine. “Tell me some things that you’ve always wanted to do when you were younger but never got the chance.”

He took a moment to think while I anxiously waited for his response. “I never had the chance to have a sleepover. I had too many responsibilities at the time. I always wanted to go to a festival or a carnival. I also—” he suddenly stopped talking. I noticed his face turning slightly red as he bit his lower lip, his other hand patting against his leg.

“What is it, Spencer?”

“I-uh always wanted to wine and dine a girl, maybe take her to see a play or movie. I wanted to take an evening stroll and just stargaze for a while.” His voice became smaller the more he talked. I hated that he started to feel self-conscious around me but knew that it couldn’t be helped. I was going to change that. I was going to make sure that Spencer Reid experienced teenage fun.

“Anyway, it’s getting late,” he said, removing his hand from mine. “I have to go in tomorrow and I am sure you have an early day as well.”

“Let me put these dishes away and I’ll walk you to the door.” I grabbed our plates and walked to the kitchen, placing them in the sink. My mind was racing with thoughts on what to do for Spencer. When I returned to the living room, he was already by the hallway, grabbing his belongings.

I slowly opened the door for him, watching as he stepped out of the apartment. Before he made it too far, I grabbed the sleeve of his arm, prompting him to turn around. Here goes nothing.

“Spencer Reid, would you like to go on a date with me?” I asked, the pitch of my voice a lot higher than normal. Despite feeling nervous, I made sure to look him in the eye and maintain contact. He stared back at me, mouth agape while his face was turning pink.

“Are you sure?” he questioned, looking down at his feet. Mental note: build up Dr. Reid’s confidence, at least around me.

“I have never been more certain of anything in my life,” I answered honestly. I smiled at him when I noticed his lips tugging upwards.

“Yes. I would like to go on a date with you, (Y/N).” The smile on his face was adorable and I was happy to be the cause of it. “Uh m-maybe I could get your number, so that we can talk,” he added.

“Sure.” I took my phone from my pocket before giving it to him. He put in his number, a bit slowly but I wasn’t complaining. I saw it as more time I got to spend with him. Once he handed my phone back, we just stood in front of each other for a while.

Before I lost my resolve, I stood on my tiptoes and pressed my lips against his cheek. Before either of us could do anything, I muttered a quick “Goodnight Dr. Reid,” and closed the door. My heart thumped erratically as I slid down the door.

“Goodnight (Y/N)” I heard through the block keeping us apart. His footsteps got quieter and quieter until he eventually opened and closed his own door.

At that moment I couldn’t help but think that I was definitely infatuated with Spencer Reid.

●●●

The second date I had with Dr. Reid, I was a nervous wreck.

Spencer and I have been texting back and forth these last few days. Luckily, we were both free this weekend, so we planned on going out. I haven’t told him yet where we’re going, much to his dismay. The only hint I gave him was to dress casually.

I’ve done some research and found that there was a food festival happening Saturday afternoon. A lot of local restaurants will have stands and distant establishments will be sending food trucks. Their theme is “Around the World” so we’ll get to explore various cultures. I’m hoping we can learn some new things from the different cuisines that would be showcased.

Saturday came around and I made sure I had everything ready. I wanted our date to go off without a hitch. I wanted this to be one of Spencer’s best experiences.

I heard a knock on my door, causing my heart to pick up a bit. I don’t know why I started to sweat. Sure, I’m going on a date with a good looking and successful man but there’s nothing to be nervous about, right? Right.

I heard another knock, more hesitant this time. I quickly made my way towards my door, taking a deep breath before opening it. Thank the angels I took in that breath because I immediately lost it again at the sight of him. 

Spencer was holding a bouquet of flowers in his hand. Lavender roses and red carnations were a few that I could identify. I think the purple flower might be an orchid. 

He lifted them towards me, a slight tremor in his hands. “These are for you.” 

“They’re lovely Spencer, thank you.” I grabbed the flowers from him, taking in the smell of the blossoms. “I’m going to put these in a vase. I’ll be right back.”

I made my way to the living room to do just that. I grabbed my bag and a jacket before checking myself in the mirror one last time. Happy with my appearance, I returned back to Spencer. I shut the door behind us as we walked towards the elevator.

“You look beautiful, by the way,” Spencer said as we entered the elevator. I can tell he was still nervous, the thrumming of his fingers against one another and the bouncing on his feet a few signs hinting towards his anxious state.

“You look dashing as well. Although I do remember telling you to dress casually, mister,” I said, a small smile appearing on my face at the sight of his own.

Spencer was wearing a dark pair of slacks with a light purple button-down shirt. His hair was slicked and combed back. He was rocking back and forth on his beat-upped chucks and I can see the mismatched socks peeking through. He looked a bit silly, especially considering where we are going, but handsome nonetheless.

“I don’t have casual clothing. Plus I wanted to look good for you.” I could feel my face getting warm because of his words. “By the way, it’s doctor.”

I giggled at his comment, which caused him to laugh as well. We exited the elevator and out of the lobby.

“We’re going to take the subway to our destination,” I informed him. “It should take less than half an hour to get there.”

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going now?”

“It’s still a surprise, doctor,” I beamed at him.

Fortunately, we did not experience any delays on the train. We spent the duration of the commute getting to know one another even more. He told me some stories involving outings with his co-workers and I could tell that he really loved each and every one of them. I shared some work stories and funny memories with my colleagues as well.

Once we got to our stop, I grabbed his hand and led us to the festival. It was a 10-minute walk from the exit. I turned to him as soon as I saw our destination within our sights.

“A food and wine festival?” he questioned.

“Yeah, I know this isn’t exactly what you had in mind when we were talking the other day but I thou—“

“I like it, especially since I’m  spending the day with you.” There goes my heart again, picking up pace as if I ran a marathon. I’m sure he says these things on purpose just to see me flustered.  

Spencer squeezed my hand in his and we explored the grounds. We decided to share a plate from each stall so that we can experience as much as possible. Spencer walked us to the first stall he saw, which showcased food from the Philippines.

“Did you know that Filipino food draws roots from their neighboring Asian nations as well as some Spanish countries?” he stated as we looked at the menu, “It is considered to be a perfect blend of Western and Eastern food. Actually—” he suddenly stopped himself. I looked at him curiously, wondering what caused his interruption.

“Sorry, I have a tendency to ramble.”

“There’s no need to apologize. I want to hear what you have to say. Let’s order something and you can finish telling me.”

He smiled brightly at me and squeezed my hand. After ordering a siopao to share, we sat at a table while he finished telling me facts about Filipino cuisine. As a matter of fact, he told me a lot of information about various cultures and countries as we walked from vendor to vendor.

We tried risotto from an Italian booth, which Spencer said was not as good as his friend’s cooking. We also got carne asada tacos from a Mexican food truck, where I discovered that tomatoes, dragon fruit, and vanilla originated from Mexico. We ate some sake nigiri sushi from a Japanese stand. I found out that Spencer cannot use chopsticks to save his life. I decided to feed him so that he doesn’t accidentally drop our food. We ventured to numerous vendors and had our fill in almost everything that was offered. We even had desserts and some drinks.

By the time Spencer and I made it back to our apartments, we were both stuffed. I was close to going into a food coma and I knew Spencer wasn’t far behind either.

“I don’t think I’ve ever eaten that much food in my life,” he commented as we stood in front of my door.

“You and me both. I’m sure I gained 10 pounds,” I joked, enjoying the way he laughed at my attempt at being humorous. I still held his hand in mine, not wanting the evening to end, but I knew it had to. We had spent the whole day together and we were tired.

Spencer made the decision for us. He lifted my hand, placed a chaste kiss on my knuckles and wished me sweet dreams before he retreated to his own home.

At that moment I couldn’t help but think that I was definitely charmed by Spencer Reid.

●●●

The third date I had with Spencer was ruined, but then fixed.

I was organizing a picnic basket when I received a call from him. I was puzzled as to why he was calling, especially when we’re supposed to meet up in a couple of hours.

“Hey (Y/N)” His voice came out gruff as if he just woke up.

“Hi Spencer, are you okay?” I heard some coughs coming from his end and I immediately became concerned over his well-being

“I don’t think I can go out this afternoon. I’ve been sick these past few days. I was really hoping to get back on my feet by now. I am so sorry.”

Before he could say anything else, because I knew he would in his remorseful state, I interrupted him. “Spencer, it's fine. We’ll raincheck,” I assured him. He tried to thank me, but another set of coughs came over. These sounded worse than the first ones.

Spencer managed to get out a goodbye before hanging up the phone. I contemplated what to do. He sounded so sick and miserable on the phone. He likely has a sore throat, maybe even muscle aches. The idea of him alone and shivering caused a dull pain in me.

I decided that I was going to see this man. I could make him something warm to eat and lend him my thickest blanket. We could even watch a movie together too.

With that in mind, I made some chicken soup and herbal tea. I put the items in containers before placing them in my picnic basket. I grabbed my largest and heaviest blanket, placing it over my shoulder. It wouldn’t fit in the basket, no matter how many times I folded it. Lastly, I grabbed my laptop, so that we can stream movies. Spencer once told me he wasn’t big on technology so I had no idea whether he owned a TV or not.

Once I had all the essential items, I made my way across the hall, knocking on his door. Unsurprisingly, it took a while for him to open the door. I waited a minute or two before he answered and was disheartened by what I saw.

Spencer was pale, well paler than usual, with a light sheen of sweat on his forehead.  His under eyes were dark and his nose was so red. He wore a robe over his pajamas. He looked as if he was about to fall over any second now.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, eyeing the blanket wrapped around me. His voice was slightly slurred and he was leaning on the doorframe to keep himself up.

“Well I figured since I couldn’t take you out on a picnic, I’ll take the picnic to you.”

He looked down at my hands, noticing the basket I was holding.

“You shouldn’t be around me, you’ll get sick.”

“Spencer Reid, you’re worth the cooties. May I please come in?”

He relented, leaving the door open for me to follow. I took in his apartment, appreciating his more vintage style. He had a massive collection of books, some of them in languages I couldn’t even identify.

“You have a miniature bookstore in here,” I commented. I turned towards him, seeing his figure laying down on the couch. 

“I like to read,” he simply said, the words muffled by the couch cushion he was lying on. I went towards him, shrugging off the blanket from me and placing it on top of his lap.

“If you get cold, use this to keep you warm. I’m going to heat up the soup and tea. Try to stay awake for me.”

Spencer nodded his head, bunching up the soft material in his hands. I quickly grabbed the content from the basket and dashed to the kitchen. It took me a few minutes to find where he puts his utensils, but I had everything taken care of in no time. I even found a tray to help me carry the food.

I brought the dishes to him, warning him of the heat. “I hope you like chicken soup and ginger tea. I added some honey to satisfy your sweet tooth.” He thanked me, holding the bowl close to him to keep him warm. I settled myself on the couch next to him, happy that he wasn’t complaining about our proximity.

“I have my laptop with me. We can watch some movies if you want.”

“I’d like that a lot.” We ended up watching The Matrix and Minority Report. Spencer tried his best to stay quiet during the films, but couldn’t help but to comment about certain technicalities and improbabilities. I found his rambling endearing, adding in my own opinions after he finished sharing his thoughts. I had to remind him to not strain his voice when he got on a tangent on how the idea of living in a simulation is not possible. He lost me once he started talking about quantum physics.

Spencer looked at the clock, noticing the late hour. “Are you going to leave?” His voice was low, and I am positive it was not because of his ill state. He was talking with passion and intensity a few moments ago.

“Do you want me to?”

“No. Is that selfish of me?” My heart skipped a beat. Knowing that he wanted me to stay with him gave me feelings I couldn’t quite describe.

“Of course not, Spence. We could have that sleepover you missed out on,” I stated enthusiastically. He stared at me for a moment, and I wondered if I misunderstood the situation. Before I could apologize for my assumption, he started talking.

“That’s the first time you called me Spence.” He’s right. All this time I’ve been addressing him as Spencer or Dr. Reid. “I like it,” he finished.         

“Let me grab my pajamas and some toiletries. I’ll be back before you know it.”

I sprinted to my apartment, changing into my sleepwear and grabbing my necessities before returning to Spencer’s. I am sure I was there and back under five minutes.

Spencer and I continued our evening playing board games. We played some chess (which I lost at) as well as poker (which I also lost at). He showed some card tricks and tried to teach me a basic one. I couldn’t do it as smoothly, but he said that with practice I could become a magician.

I knew the night was coming to an end when he began to yawn every few minutes. Despite saying that he could stay up longer, his body needed to recover.

“You should take my bedroom,” he offered after coming back from the restroom, “You’ll be comfortable there.”

“Absolutely not. Slumber Party rules dictate that we sleep in the same room.” He laughed at my proclamation.

“That’s not true.”

“Yes, it is. Now I’m going to use your bathroom. Do you keep your spare sheets in the closet?”

He nodded drowsily as I made my way to his bathroom. I did my nightly routine and grabbed a blanket from the closet. When I returned to Spencer, he was already dozing off.   

He looked so peaceful at this moment, I’ve never seen such a look on him. I kissed the bridge of his nose and made my way to the armchair.

 I settled myself as comfortably as I can.. Before I fell asleep, I could have sworn I heard a “Goodnight” coming from his direction. When I peeked to see if he was awake, his eyes were still closed but he had a wide smile on his face.

At that moment I couldn’t help but think that I was definitely captivated by Spencer Reid.

●●●

The fourth date I had with Spence, he was in charge.

Spencer told me that he wanted to take me out as a way to show his gratitude. I wanted to tell him that it was unnecessary, but he looked so eager and I didn’t want to take that away. Plus, I was looking forward to whatever he came up with. I know that with Spencer, I am bound to have a good time.

He kept everything a secret for me, which was no surprise considering how our first official date went down. The only thing he told me was to dress nicely, yet comfortably.

My body was pulsating with excitement. I made sure to spend extra time with my makeup. I didn’t want to go overboard, but I definitely wanted to accentuate my features. I chose to wear a maxi skirt with my favorite blouse. I added a few accessories and paired everything with some heels.

I didn’t have to wait long before hearing a knock on the door. He always seems to have impeccable timing. I practically floated towards my door with how happy I was.

Spencer was dressed in black dress pants and a deep blue button-down. The outfit was accompanied with a dark tie and blazer combo. He even had dress shoes on, which came as a surprise since this man loves his chucks.

“You look as handsome as always, Doc.” He smiled at my words. I love that he was more comfortable with my compliments. It seems like we came a long way from him stammering over his words and fidgeting with his hands. Although I must admit that I am going to miss his bashful behavior.

“I got this for you.” He revealed what appeared to be a corsage in his hands, the flowers of the accessory matching the one pinned to his blazer. “Uh- I-I know it is probably a bit um juvenile. You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to.”

“Spence, I love it. And I’ll love it more if you put it on me.”

He beamed at me, taking the corsage out of the casing and carefully securing it on my wrist. He was so gentle and patient while doing the task. Once he was done, we headed down to the lobby.

“I hope you don’t mind that I am driving,” he said as we made our way to what I assumed to be his car, a two-door pale blue Volvo. I was not surprised, this is his exact style.

“As long as you get us to our location in one piece, I don’t mind at all.” He opened my door for me before settling in on the driver’s side.

As Spencer drove, we talked about the antique style of his possessions. He shared that his Mom had a similar taste and he was very close to her when he was younger. I wanted to ask more, elated that he was telling me about his family, but decided to hold back. The way his voice wavered as he was talking showed me that this was a major effort for him. I decided to share some stories about my family and their influence over my own lifestyle.

Time always seems to fly with Spencer because before I knew it we were already parked. Being the chivalrous man that he is, Spencer made sure to open my door for me. He held my hand as we walked to the restaurant. I admired the ambiance of the venue. There was a band playing soft jazz music and lights scattered upon the ceiling. The décor was beautiful and the overall atmosphere was very cozy.

The hostess led us to our seats after Spencer informed her of our reservation. We sat at a corner table, providing us the perfect amount of privacy.

“Have you been here before?” I asked.

“No, I haven’t. As a matter of fact, a friend of mine recommended this place. He said that it was the perfect place to...uh, woo a girl.”

“Well, I am entirely wooed. But that is mostly due to the present company.” He smiled at me, before looking at the menu. I decided to do the same after noticing the pink tint at the tip of his ears. I still got it.

The rest of our dinner went smoothly. We ordered our meals as well as a glass of wine, in which I was informed of the many health benefits that come with drinking a glass of red. I was able to convince Spencer to show me a magic trick using a coin and napkin. He did it multiple times, yet I couldn’t find out how it worked. We talked about music, literature, art and so much more. We were so deep into our conversation that we didn’t notice our food had arrived.

My food smelled amazing and tasted even better. I couldn’t help but ask Spencer for a bite of his. He was willing to share as long as he got a piece of my food as well. We ended up splitting our meals with each other.

After paying for the entire bill, much to my protest, Spencer took my hand and led me out of the restaurant. I thought it would be the end of our night together but was wrong. Spencer said that there was one more surprise for me.

The car ride this time was a bit on the longer side and I wondered where on earth he could be taking us. It wasn’t until I saw a sign that a large smile appeared on my face.

“A drive-in theater?” I excitedly asked.

“Yes,” he confirmed, “I hope you don’t mind watching a scary movie.”

“As long as you don’t mind me holding you when I get scared.”

“Deal.” 

It was not difficult to find a good spot to enjoy the film. I screamed and jumped multiple times for two hours straight, much to Spencer’s amusement. He attempted to distract me by telling me facts about certain aspects of the movie which marginally helped. By the end of the film, I had started to get drowsy due to all the mini shots of adrenaline.

“Did you have fun?” he asked as he drove us home. I could hear the uneasiness in his question. I’m not sure why he was nervous, this was hands down the most fun I ever had on a date.

“Of course, Spence. This had to be the best date I ever went on. Thank you.”

He smiled widely at the road and I made sure to cherish the moment. It was not often that I got to see such a large grin on Spencer’s face. Happiness was such a good look on him. It makes him appear much more lively and handsome.

I closed my eyes, allowing them to rest momentarily. I didn’t expect to be so tired from an outing. The motion of the car driving on smooth pavement was almost like a lullaby that lured me into a light slumber.

I’m not sure how much time has passed before I was lifted into someone’s arms. If it wasn’t for the scent of coffee and cinnamon, I surely would have panicked. I felt the press of warm lips on my forehead and couldn’t stop the sigh that left my mouth. I buried my head deeper into the arms that cradled me.

At that moment I couldn’t help but think that I definitely adored Spencer Reid.

●●●

The fifth date I had with Spencer was unplanned.

Spencer has been going on cases more often recently, so we didn’t have a chance to meet. We’ve been texting one another, even calling if time allows it, but I wanted to see him.

When he told me that he was finally flying back home, I decided to meet him at his job. I considered whether or not this would be crossing boundaries, but chose to accept the consequences of my actions later.

The drive to the building where Spencer works was not as long as I imagined. After receiving a visitor’s pass from the front desk and a vague direction of where to go, I found myself lost on the sixth floor.

“Can I help you sweetheart?” a feminine voice asked me. I turned to see a brightly colored fashionista in front of me. I was in awe of her vibrant attire. “Hun?”

“Oh uh, I’m sorry. I’m—I’m waiting for Spencer Reid to return. Umm, is there a place where I can wait for him?”

She beamed at me, her comforting smile providing me some relief. “The team isn’t coming for another half hour. You can wait in my office if you’d like.”

I nodded my head and followed her, taking in my surroundings. I have never been in such an official building before.

“Here we are,” said the kind stranger, leading me to a room filled with a bunch of monitors and computers. “I’m Penelope by the way. I work with Spencer and friends.”

“I’m (Y/N), Spencer’s neighbor.” I practically saw a lightbulb go over her head as she let out a squeal. Penelope started talking a mile a minute, I couldn’t understand what she was saying. It wasn’t until she saw the bewildered expression on my face that she paused and took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that Spencer has spoken about you a few times. I didn’t want to assume initially but I figured who you were earlier. Our resident genius doesn’t get many visitors here.”

My face heated up. I was stuck on the fact that Spencer spoke about me to his colleagues, the people he considers his second family. I wondered what he said. Hopefully nothing too embarrassing, he always seems to catch me at some mortifying moments.

“Anyway,” Penelope continued, “you have to tell me about yourself. Spencer doesn’t share enough details and I promised not to search you up.”

For the next half hour, Penelope and I traded information about ourselves. She told me how she got the job as a technical analyst and some other activities she does outside of work while I told her about my typical routine and favorite pastimes.

Penelope’s phone vibrated and she immediately looked at her screen. “They’re here. Let’s go meet them upfront.”

We walked back to where I came from, standing in front of the elevators. We didn’t have to wait long for the doors to open before I saw a pack of people exiting. My eyes instantly landed on Spencer, he was the tallest in the group.

Spencer was currently looking at his phone, typing something on the screen. He finally brought his head up once he put his cell away and I felt mine vibrate with a notification. Once his eyes landed on me, he pushed past the people he was with and darted towards me.

I opened my arms as he drew me into a tight hug. It is a shame that I have not embraced Spencer more because he gives the best hugs. Everything about him automatically puts me in a tranquil state of mind.

“What are you doing here?” he asked once he put some space between us.

“I wanted to see you. Is that okay?”

“It’s more than okay. I missed you.” That beautiful smile graced his face one more. How is it possible that this man is in my life?

The sound of someone clearing their throat pulled Spencer and I away from our bubble. My face heated up as I saw his friends surrounding us.

“Who’s this pretty lady Reid?” asked the muscular man. I looked at all his colleagues, recognizing the blonde as the woman who was at his apartment a couple of months ago. That was when I mistakenly thought she was his girlfriend. She smiled at me, no doubt knowing who I was.

“This is (Y/N), she’s my gi—uh she’s my ummm …” he trailed off, glancing at me. I didn’t notice that we have yet to establish our relationship with one another.

“I’m his neighbor,” I finished. Spencer introduced me to his team before telling me to wait while he gathered his belongings. During his absence, Penelope convinced me to join her for a girl’s night out in the future with the other ladies. I couldn’t say no to the offer, her enthusiasm was seeping through her pores.

When Spencer returned, he grabbed my hand and said his goodbyes while leading us to the elevator. I saw Penelope whisper excitedly to the muscular man that I learned was named Derek, before the doors even got a chance to close.

“My car is here. I can drive us back home,” I informed Spencer.

He nodded his head as we exited the building and made our way to the car. I know that Spencer does not particularly like to discuss his cases, so instead I asked him questions of the places he has been at recently and whether he had the chance to explore. He animatedly told me of a book he purchased that was in a foreign language as well as a vinyl record he got at a music store.

“Can we go to the park?” he suddenly asked. I was a bit confused but decided not to question him.

“Yea, sure.”

The park was not far from where we currently were. After finding a spot and getting out, he took my hand in his once again, leading us down a serene trail. The sound of crickets chirping while the soft wind breezed through us was very relaxing. I looked up at the sky, taking in the tiny visible stars and full moon.

Spencer stopped walking in the middle of the trail, tugging my hand so that I was closer to him. He stared at me as his tongue brushed across his lips.   

“(Y/N)?” His voice had that shy tone once again.

“Yes, Spencer?” He brought his hand up to tuck some loose strands of hair behind my ear.

“May I kiss you?”

My heart started racing at his question. Yes, yes, a thousand times yes. My voice was stuck in my throat so I nodded my head instead.

Spencer’s hand gently held my cheek as he leaned down towards me. I closed my eyes once his soft lips landed on mine, wrapping my free hand around his neck. He tasted sweet, as I knew he would. I pressed more firmly against him, enjoying the sound of his moan when I swept my tongue across his lower lip. He allowed me to explore his mouth as he did the same to me.

I pulled away after a while to catch my breath. Spencer placed his forehead against mine, breathing heavier than I have ever seen.

“(Y/N)?” he panted out, his voice a lot more confident than it was beforehand.

“Yes, Spencer?”

“Would you like to be my girlfriend?”

I looked into his gentle hazel eyes, embracing all the emotions he was showing me through them. That gorgeous smile adorned his face once more. He looked so beautiful right here.

“I would love to be your girlfriend, Spence.”

I captured his lips this time around, relishing the warmth of his mouth on mine.

At that moment I couldn’t help but think that I was definitely in love with Spencer Reid.

[crystalninjaphoenix]

Together

A Stitched Story (END)

JSE Fanfic

Man...this is it. The last one. That’s...wow. This was an AU three years in the writing, and with this, it’s over. I just...wow. I’m gonna need to just think about that for a second. Maybe wait a bit before starting something new. Anyway, this is basically wrapping everything up, taking care of all the final plot points and loose ends. There are emotional moments, including one big one, but...wow. I just have to keep saying that over and over again, it’s all I feel. The boys are settling down. Finally. Man, they’ve earned it. 

Tagging @septic-dr-schneep for inspiring this AU with this post.

Read the whole story: Stitched Together | Season One | Season Two | Torn Apart | Tales to Tell | Threads | Twice Bitten, Never Shy | Two of Souls | The Tower | Time to End

Taglist (finally): @bupine @violet--majesty @ari-trash

It was surprisingly sunny, for an autumn day. Busy, too. Cars rushed through the streets, and pedestrians populated the pavement. Jameson shielded his eyes from the sun’s glare as he peered around a street corner and saw their destination. We’re almost there. One more block, he said, tapping the message out in Morse code on a nearby lamppost.

“Good, I hope we are not late,” Schneep replied. “What time is it?”

JJ checked the clock on his phone. 1:25. Do you think it’s already over?

“Possibly. In any case, it would be better to be early.” Schneep turned the corner, speeding up, running his cane over the sidewalk to check for cracks. JJ hurried to catch up. “Chase would be upset if we are not there.”

He’ll be fine, JJ said reassuringly, now tapping the message on Schneep’s arm. But I suppose we can make haste.

The two of them soon arrived at their destination, turning into the hospital parking lot and walking towards the building’s front entrance. “Oh! I think he is here, yes?” Schneep said.

Yes, I can see him. JJ waved. Chase was standing outside the glass doors, bouncing on his feet and scanning the area. He had his usual bandanna and cap, but was wearing a new sweater, one that the others had given him as a group birthday present to make up for missing it a few months ago, and an old backpack Stacy had lent him. Once he saw JJ waving he smiled, and waved back.

“Ha! Knew it. I am getting good at this,” Schneep said proudly. “If only sensing souls could help with telling apart the toothpaste and burn cream.”

JJ laughed, muffled as usual, and the two of them hurried across the parking lot. Chase ran up to meet them at the edge of the sidewalk. “Hey guys!” he said. “Good to see you.”

“Good to see you too,” Schneep said lightheartedly. “Well, well? Did everything go fine?”

“Oh, uh, mostly.” Chase rolled up the sleeves of his sweater. He wasn’t wearing his wristbands. Instead, there were white bandages. “She managed to get the ones on my wrists off, but said she didn’t want to risk messing with the one on my neck. It’s close to an artery or something? I don’t know, it was some complicated medical stuff.”

“Ah. That is too bad,” Schneep said sadly. Jameson shook his head sympathetically. “But it is glad to hear some of the stitches are gone. I told you that Darla was good. Trustworthy, too. She will not tell anyone.”

“If you say so, doc.” Pulling his sleeves down, Chase turned to JJ. “Are you sure you don’t want to try? I mean, it’s a lot more inconvenient for you than it is for me.”

JJ hesitated, then nodded. I am fine, he signed. I’ve gotten used to it, and yes, there are many downsides, but considering what happened last week, I think it is good enough.

“Man. If you’re really sure,” Chase said reluctantly. “They’re already a bit looser, right? Maybe whatever magic’s making them hard to cut through will fade over time.”

“Wait, Jameson, did you bring up last week?” Schneep whacked JJ’s legs with his cane. “I said that you should not try yourself! Things could go wrong!” He paused. “But everything is fine, right?”

Yes, it was a shallow cut, JJ said. Your scissors are pretty sharp.

“I know. They are not normal, and I am starting to think they were always supposed to be weapons.” Schneep sighed. “Well, I am putting them away soon.”

JJ and Chase exchanged a significant look. “You’re gonna put them away?” Chase repeated.

Schneep nodded. “If I need them again, it won’t be hard to pull them out.”

In the month since they’d finally gotten rid of the strings, Schneep had kept carrying the scissors around. Just in case, he’d said. Just in case those glowing green strands of black magic managed to worm their way back into the world. But the past month had been quiet. Busy in other ways, but nothing had appeared to attack any of them. So maybe ‘just in case’ wasn’t going to come. Maybe it would be fine to leave them at home. Or, well, in whatever pocket dimension they came from.

“If you’re sure, doc,” Chase said. “A-anyway, it’s a bit past 1:30. We should hurry, or we’ll be late to meet up with the others. You guys walked here? C’mon, there’s a bus stop across the street.”

We’d definitely be on time if you drove us, JJ said teasingly.

“Hey, I can’t be blamed for not having a car.”

Ask Stacy.

“Nah, it’s fine. I should practice a bit before I do any serious driving, anyway. It’s been a while.”

“You took the bus here?” Schneep asked, puzzled. “But what about people sitting next to you?”

“It’s okay, I just put the backpack next to me. And it’s alright if it’s you guys.” Chase stepped off the sidewalk curb and onto the parking lot asphalt. “Now let’s go.”

The bus ride was short, and soon the three of them were getting off at a stop outside a small restaurant—or, more of a cafe, really. Despite being near lunchtime, the place was almost empty when they walked in. Soft piano music was playing over a speaker system, and a chalk signboard near the front entrance read “Please Seat Yourselves” with a hand-drawn smiley face. Chase read the sign out loud, and the three of them spotted the rest of the group, sitting at a table in the corner of the dining area, right by a window.

Jack had looked up at the sound of the bell chiming when the door opened. “Hey, they’re here,” he said to the other two sitting at the table.

“Huh? Oh, good.” Jackie was turning the menu over and over, listening to the sound of the laminated paper against the air. Marvin didn’t say anything. His head was leaning against the glass of the window, eyes closed, a pair of earbuds blocking out most sound. But he did make a small sound of acknowledgement.

“Hey guys.” Chase arrived first, taking the chair across from Marvin, next to the wall. Schneep and JJ took the next two. “Did you already order?”

“No, I told the waiter that we were waiting for people,” Jack explained. “But, more importantly, how’d it go? Are they gone?”

“Wrists are.” Chase once again pulled back his sleeves. For a moment, Jackie glanced at the bandages on his wrists, then bit his lip and looked away. “Apparently the neck stitches are too close to an artery or something. She didn’t want to mess with it.”

“Shit. Well, two out of three’s not bad,” Jack said.

“Jack, my friend, how are the repairs going?” Schneep asked.

“Pretty good, I think. The walls just got repainted, and the living room has new chairs and stuff. Still a long way to go.” Jack laughed. “Honestly I’m just glad that the water and Internet didn’t go out.”

Are the police still talking to you? JJ asked.

“No, not really. You guys?”

The other three all shook their heads. Dealing with the police had been...complicated. They had to, of course. They couldn’t just go back to their old lives without people asking “what the hell happened to you?!”JJ had it the easiest, in a way. Nobody had reported him missing, which was a bit sad when he thought about it, and all the regular patrons of his shop had assumed it closed down. Jack and Chase had more difficulty, since they were pretty public figures. The moment Jack had uploaded a video explaining he was back, the Internet had gone up in flames wondering where he’d been.

In the end, they all decided on the same story. It was pretty lame, as Chase often said, but it worked. They all just lied and said they didn’t remember anything. Weird stitches on Chase’s wrists and neck? Nope. Scars all over Jack’s body? Don’t know what happened there. Schneep losing an entire sense and gaining weird scars that looked like tears dripping from his eyes? No idea, officer. The police had prodded them, but eventually given up, essentially leaving the case unsolved and concluding it was a strange psychological phenomenon. The case would go down in history, but nobody would know the truth.

Of course, when it came to Marvin and Jackie coming back to life, things were going to be a bit difficult. Fortunately, they had magic on their side.

“Have any of you heard from Yvonne?” Jack asked, sliding each of them a menu.

“Dude, why would she talk to me? I’m the least magical person here,” Chase said.

Not since she offered to help, JJ added.

Schneep merely shook his head and picked up the menu. “Oh! They actually have—”

“Yeah, I explained the situation when the waiter came over and he gave me a Braille copy,” Jack explained. “Anyway, she called me the other day. Says that the records should be all fixed now.”

“I still say that can’t be legal,” Chase muttered.

“It’s not.” Everyone jumped, a bit surprised to hear Marvin talk. He didn’t move from his position against the window or open his eyes, but he did continue. “She’s not really into stuff being legal, you know. Normal laws or magic laws. Always thought they got in the way, that...that...her. That...name.”

“Yvonne.” Jackie gently bumped Marvin’s shoulder with his own.

“Right.”

Jack gave the others a meaningful look. Memory issues. One of the lingering side effects Marvin and Jackie were dealing with. They could forget something in seconds. Jackie had taken to writing things down, if not with an actual pen and paper, then by finger-spelling it on his hand over and over. Marvin just sort of let it happen, only writing down the really important stuff. “Anyway, it’s all fixed,” Jack continued, looking back over at the other two. “You guys can...y’know, start doing stuff again. When you want. Move out, if you feel like it.”

“Thanks,” Jackie said. He sounded oddly reluctant. Marvin didn’t even bother to answer.

Chase cleared his throat. “Speaking of moving out, Schneep, did you get your apartment back yet?”

Schneep scowled. “I am so close. The stupid building owner is still insisting on keeping it all preserved, and I say, ‘for what?!’ You are clearly not going to sell it, if everything is still how it is when I was living there. So just let me live in! The police do not care anymore, anyway, so there is no crime scene!”

He probably liked the idea of having a flat where someone who disappeared lived, JJ suggested. It lends a bit of mystery and gives the building a reputation. People might want to move in because of that.

“Well he will still have it! I will just be actually there!” Schneep folded his arms and leaned back in the chair. “Ugh. Jamie, I like you, but your guest room is tiny.”

JJ gave a huff of a laugh. Sorry, Hen. I’d never really needed one before so I didn’t hear any complaints. 

“Oh, Chase, what about you? How’s the house search coming?” Jack asked.

“Fine.” Chase shrugged. “I got a few to look at. Y’know Stacy doesn’t seem to mind me staying over. I was surprised, given how she, um...wanted to move out so much a few years ago.”

“Well, things change,” Jack said cheerfully.

“Yeah. I guess that’s an upside of this, we’re, like...friends.” Chase said the word in a tone of bewildered, but welcomed, happiness. The way someone would react to hearing good news that they’d thought was no longer an option. “Again, I mean. A-and I don’t think it’s gonna go further, but...still.”

“That’s great, my friend.” Schneep patted the back of Chase’s hand.

“Yeah, that’s great!” Jackie repeated, suddenly enthusiastic. “So, like, we should order food, right?”

“Oh right.” Jack nodded. “Hang on.” He stood up, looking towards the back of the restaurant where the door to the kitchen was. A waiter was walking out at that moment, and caught sight of the group, quickly indicating he’d be right there. “Oh, nice. I was confused, really, if like this was the type of place where people would come over or if we had to go up there.” Jack sat back down and picked up the menu. “We should go all out. This is a celebration.”

I think I can get a drink, JJ signed slowly.

“Really?” Jack asked, surprised.

Yes, I think the stitches have loosened up enough for that, JJ said more confidently. A small straw or a bit of liquid. Just so long as nobody’s looking when I take off my mask.

“Awesome, man,” Chase said cheerfully. “Honestly, this place looked good on the website. We should get a lot.”

“Celebration,” Schneep repeated, then nodded. “Yes. Yes, that sounds wonderful. Celebration lunch.”

And for most of them, it was just that, wonderful. They were meeting up again, the last of their troubles were ending. Things were looking up.

But a corner of the table was a bit gloomier. Jackie and Marvin were pretty quiet all throughout the lunch. Neither of them ate that much. Marvin kept his eyes closed or looking down at his plate, and Jackie paid more attention to the salt and pepper shakers than anything else. Once the lunch was over and after everyone said their goodbyes, they followed Jack back to his apartment, where they were staying, and drifted off to separate activities. A book for Marvin, an old laptop for Jackie.

They never once said anything to each other.

— — — — — — —

Ignisa: a spell to conjure fire.

Marvin read the simple command word over and over, repeating it mentally. Ignisa. Ignisa. It was one of the simplest spells out there, and one of the first ones he learned. He could visualize the page of the book he read it in. He remembered it. Really, he did. Most of the time. For the occasions that he didn’t he’d written down the command and what it did on a spare bit of paper.

“Ignisa,” he whispered, staring down at his hands, cupped as if to hold water. He sat in the center of the floor in the spare bedroom, as far away from furniture as possible. “Ignisa. Ig-NI-sa. IG-ni-sa. Ig-ni-SA.” Yet, no matter how many times he repeated it, no matter how he pronounced it or how loud he spoke it, no matter how much he concentrated on the feeling of fire bursting forth in his hands...there wasn’t even a spark.

“Fuck.” Marvin gave up, burying his face in his hands. He squeezed his eyes to contain tears of frustration, but he still let one or two sobs slip out. Why couldn’t he do anything? No fire, no lights, no telekinesis. All the magic he remembered was useless. The only spell that sort of worked was teleportation, in fact he actually found it easier now than it used to be, but he couldn’t quite control it. If he was lucky, he’d end up close to where he wanted to be, and if he was unlucky, he teleported to the middle of the sky twenty miles away. That...hadn’t been a fun evening.

There were only a few spells that worked perfectly for him. Taking a few deep breaths, Marvin lifted his head up, and pressed his hands close together, palm to palm. Slowly, he pulled them away from each other. In the space between them were blue glowing threads of magic, which got longer the farther apart his hands got. If he wanted, he could use these strings like a weapon, grabbing things, pinning them to the wall, and maybe with practice he could use them to swing, like some sort of discount magical Spider-Man. But he didn’t want to. He didn’t want anything to do with these. Scowling, Marvin brushed his hands together, and the strings disappeared.

Someone knocked on the door, and Marvin yelped in surprise. He quickly got to his feet. “Wh-who is it?”

“It’s Jack,” a voice said. “Can I come in?”

“Um...sure.”

Jack opened the door, poking his head in through the gap. “Hey Jackie’s making noodles for dinner. Do you want any?”

Did he? Marvin wasn’t really hungry. He didn’t really feel hungry that often anymore. Or maybe he did, and just couldn’t recognize the feeling. Jackie was the same way, but that didn’t stop him from trying to eat. After a bit, Marvin decided it would probably be better safe than sorry. “...Sure.”

“Okay, I’ll tell him.” Jack hesitated. “Do you...want anything? Need anything?”

Marvin hesitated. He glanced over at Jack before looking away. Wait, why was one of Jack’s eyes a slightly different shade of blue? When had that—oh. Right. “No.”

“Alright...if you’re sure,” Jack said reluctantly. “Come out whenever you’re ready.” And with that, he left.

Just in time, too. Marvin backed up until his legs hit the edge of the bed. Immediately, he fell back onto the mattress, pressing his hands against his eyes. “Stop thinking about it,” he said to himself. “Stop thinking about it, stop it, stop.” That only seemed to make it worse. Images flashed in his head, leftover memories that weren’t his, but also were, and were also Jackie’s and someone else’s. The others called him Anti. Anti’s memories. They would pop up whenever something triggered them, and that ‘something’ was usually one of the others. Right now, the memories were about Jack, about what happened to his eye. Marvin could hear himself—no, Anti—laughing.

Shaking, Marvin slowly stood up again, staggering across the room to the door. Why was it that sometimes, his balance just didn’t work? Why was he so clumsy now? He grabbed the doorknob but didn’t open it, just pressing his forehead into the wood. These were the consequences for his actions. The memories, the problems with his magic, the lack of balance. It was all his fault. If he hadn’t gotten into his head that trying the transference spell would be fine, that not telling Jackie wouldn’t cause any problems...It hadn’t even been about helping people, like how Jackie probably wanted to, he just wanted to see if he could do it, to see if he could increase his power. And he caused everything. So this was his punishment. Served him right.

— — — — — — —

“Marvin says he wants dinner,” Jack said, leaning into the kitchen/dining room.

“Okay,” Jackie said cheerfully, grabbing another bowl from the cabinet. It was easy, since that particular cabinet was missing its door. It would probably stay that way for a while, too, since with all the other repairs the apartment required it wasn’t a high enough priority. Jackie set the bowl on the counter next to two others, then looked over at the pot of water. It wasn’t steaming or boiling. Did he forget to turn the heat on? He tapped the edge of the burner under the pot.

“Jackie!” Jack gasped.

“Oh, it’s fine, it’s not on,” Jackie assured him. “I was just checking.”

“You mean you didn’t know if it was on?!”

“It probably wasn’t.” Jackie looked up to see the dial hadn’t been turned. Oh. He probably could have looked at the dial before touching the burner. Well, whatever. He reached over and turned the dial to the 7 mark.

“Please be careful,” Jack said, looking nervous. “You could get hurt.”

“I am being careful,” Jackie said. It didn’t really matter, anyway. He was having trouble feeling pain lately. Or...most things, actually. It was weird, he was a bit numb. Not by too much, but enough to be noticeable, to know that he hadn’t been like that before. Marvin was just the opposite, nowadays he was constantly being overwhelmed with the texture and feel of things. But he was always more sensitive to sensations than the rest of them.

“Well, be even more careful,” Jack insisted. He backed out of the kitchen. “I’m gonna, uh, hang out in the living room. Tell me if you need anything.”

“Okay,” Jackie nodded. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Alright.” Jack hesitated for a second before turning away and leaving.

Everything was fine. Jack really didn’t need to worry, Jackie had everything covered. Making food was easy, really. It was something that he did all the time. The process was automatic, especially for making pasta. Just wait for a bit, occasionally stirring, then drain the water. It was all good. This was a normal thing that normal people did. Things were normal.

Of course, Jackie knew that every single thing he’d just thought to himself was a lie. But it was easier to pretend. Sometimes he pretended so hard that it felt like he was watching a movie filmed in the first-person, instead of actually existing in this body.

Oh, it was happening now, actually. Jackie watched as his hand pulled open the cutlery drawer and took out a long spoon. Then the hand started stirring the pasta in the pot. It was starting to get hot now. There was steam. How hot was it? The other hand reached forward and—

“Shit!” Jackie snapped back to reality, pulling his hand away from the side of the metal pot. “Ah. Fuck.” He looked down. The skin of his fingers was a bit red and tender. He opened and closed his fist a few times to help the leftover burning feeling fade away.

“Is everything okay?” Jack was back, apparently having heard Jackie shout. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, just brushed against the side,” Jackie explained.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Of course.”

“Well...okay, then.” Jack reluctantly backed out of view.

Everything was fine. Oh look, the pasta was suddenly done. Time had just flown past. Jackie poured the pasta into the strainer and then scooped it into the bowls. Marvin showed up, and then Jack, and they all ate in silence, after which Jack excused himself to go back to his recording room to do some editing. The moment he’d replaced all the broken computer parts, he’d gone back to making videos, though not nearly as frequently as before. That was...nice. Nice that he could do that.

Jackie wondered what he was supposed to do now. Not just for the rest of the day, but...for the rest of ever. He wanted things to be fine, to be normal, and he was pretty good at pretending they were. But they. Just. Weren’t. He couldn’t find the energy to start looking for a job, or for a new apartment, or even for new clothes. But at the same time, he didn’t want to keep borrowing from Jack. He didn’t want to just stay in place, but he couldn’t move forward.

At one point, he’d thought about going back out onto the streets. He didn’t know what happened to his old super suit, but he could make a new one. Then that train of thought had immediately crashed to a halt with a flash of memory. Not his, but also his. Anti’s. A memory with so much pain in it, and feeling glad at that pain. Somehow triumphantly vindicated to see suffering. No. Someone like that couldn’t be a hero.

So things continued. The same things. Every day.

Everything was fine.

— — — — — — —

Time passed. Autumn progressed, and it became cooler as September blended into October. Jack kept fixing up the apartment, and it was beginning to look good as new. Schneep finally convinced the building owner to let him back into his place, and so he moved out of JJ’s building. Chase was still having trouble finding a house, but he was glad to spend more time with Lily and Moira, absolutely doting on the two of them. Business at JJ’s shop started to pick up again, though he had to get used to carrying around a notepad since most customers didn’t know sign language.

Jackie and Marvin stayed where they were.

One night, a storm rolled over the city. Rain pounded the ground, thunder rumbled in the distance, and nobody went out of their houses. That night, Marvin went into the apartment’s bathroom and pressed his face against the small window to watch the storm. There wasn’t much to see. The glass was cloudy for privacy. But there was water running down the other side, droplets racing each other to the bottom.

Then there was a flash, and a fork of lightning split the window in half. A second later came the thunder. Marvin heard someone gasp, and jumped, spinning around to see Jackie standing in the open bathroom doorway. “Oh. Sorry,” Jackie muttered. “I just saw the lights on in here and—nevermind.”

Marvin just looked at him for a bit, then turned back to the window. Jackie stood there for a moment, then started to turn away.

“Jackie?”

He stopped at the sound of Marvin’s quiet voice. “Yeah?”

“Are we...bad people?”

Jackie didn’t answer, and that was an answer on its own.

“Should we...be here?”

“What do you mean?” Jackie asked.

Marvin started pulling at his fingers. “Just...what if something...happens?”

Jackie paled. “I-it’ll be okay. It’s all okay.”

“Okay.”

Neither of them moved. Then, quietly, Jackie admitted something. “I don’t want to be here.”

“You don’t?” Marvin finally turned around.

“I don’t think I should,” Jackie whispered. “Just...everyone is nice to us. But we...hurt them. Or, kind of us. I mean, he was still us, right?”

Marvin nodded. “I remember doing it.”

“Me too.”

“He can’t come back, though. Right?”

“I mean...no,” Jackie said slowly. “But what if we...what if something happens?” He echoed Marvin’s own words back at him.

Marvin was silent for a moment. “I don’t want to be here, either.”

“Should we leave?”

“What would we do?”

“I don’t know.” Jackie glanced down the hall, towards Jack’s bedroom. “But they’re...good people. And we’re.... We don’t...” He trailed off.

Another crack of thunder.

“Should we leave a note?” Marvin asked.

“No. They can figure it out. Should we stay together?”

“Maybe at first.”

“Okay.”

A few minutes later, the power in the apartment building went out. Jack left his bedroom, holding a flashlight. “Hey guys? The storm knocked the lights out. You okay?”

No answer. Not surprising, Jackie and Marvin could be pretty quiet. So Jack went to look for them.

But...they weren’t there. Not in the spare bedroom, not in the bathroom, not in the kitchen, not in the living room. “Guys?” he called, voice rising in worry. “Guys?!”

Still no answer. Swearing under his breath, Jack went back to his bedroom and picked up his phone from where he’d left it. He opened up the group chat and sent a message.

Jackie and Marvin are gone. I think they’ve left.

— — — — — — —

It was still storming when they got off the bus to look around. With the rain pouring down, it was hard to make out details of anything. There were the vague, tall shapes of buildings, the long stretches of clear roads and sidewalks...but everything else was a bit cloudy. “We should’ve brought an umbrella,” Marvin said, trying to shield himself from the rain by covering his head with his arms. It didn’t work.

“I didn’t think he had one,” Jackie said, peering through the falling water. “Do you want my jacket?”

“No, I’m fine.” Marvin shivered.

“I...okay, if you’re sure you’re alright,” Jackie said reluctantly. “Here, there’s a street sign over on that corner.” He walked up to the sign, Marvin trailing after him. “Uh...Everwood Lane. I...I don’t remember where that is. Do you?”

“No,” Marvin admitted. They hadn’t really had much of a plan, had they? Just up and left, trusting they’d figure it out in the moment. Saw a bus stopping at a nearby station, and hopped aboard, pretending to swipe bus passes so the driver, who wasn’t really paying any attention, wouldn’t notice. Then they’d gotten off at random, once they realized they’d been sitting in the bus for a while and they had to be far away by then. Why had they thought any of that would be a good idea? Why had he just gone along with it? 

“Well, uh. Let’s get inside.” Jackie pressed on, now walking up to the entrance of the nearest building. “Maybe we can ask someone in there, and it’ll be dry.” See? This would work out.

Luckily, that building turned out to be open, and they stepped into a front hall. It looked nice, but was completely empty. The only things of note were the pair of elevators, the door labelled ‘Stairwell,’ another unlabelled door, and a directory on a sign attached to the wall.

“No one’s here,” Marvin muttered.

“Someone has to be here, everything’s on.” Jackie scanned the directory. The building was nine floors tall, plus the ground floor, and every floor was listed as belonging to some business, each with operating hours attached. “Uh...what time is it?”

“...I don’t remember,” Marvin said. “And there’s no clock here. And we don’t have phones.”

“It’s fine, we’ll—we’ll just check around,” Jackie said optimistically. He walked over to the unmarked door and grabbed the handle, starting to push it open. Only to stop short when the door wouldn’t budge. Locked. Okay. That was fine. There were more options. Jackie turned around. “C’mon, we’ll take the lifts.”

“Mm-hmm.” Marvin nodded, following him to the elevators.

The elevator arrived, doors sliding open, and the two of them stepped in. “Right, we’ll just start with the first floor,” Jackie said, pressing the button. He waited for a few seconds, but the elevator wasn’t moving. The button hadn’t lit up. “Um...” He pressed it again. Then a couple more times. Then he tried the other buttons, pushing them hard.

“There’s a card reader attached,” Marvin pointed out, nodding towards a black box mounted on the elevator’s panel. “I don’t think it’ll work without the right card.”

“Oh.” Jackie was momentarily at a loss, but then he recovered. They just had to keep moving. That’s all. “I guess we’ll take the stairs, then.”

The stairwell was tall, white, and empty, metal stairs spiralling upwards with only a railing keeping the people walking up and down from falling off. Jackie led the way, climbing up the stairs quickly with Marvin a bit behind. But there was no luck. All the doors that led into the floors were blocked by the same card readers as in the elevators. Just in case, Jackie still tried to open them, both pushing and pulling, but to no avail. So they just kept climbing, stopping at every story so Jackie could try the doors with increasing desperation, while Marvin watched him with increasing annoyance.

Until finally, they reached the last door, this one labelled ‘Roof Access.’ Surprisingly, this one didn’t have a card reader. Jackie hesitated, then pushed it open, letting in a spray of rain from the storm outside. 

“Okay, this was useless,” Marvin said. “Let’s—”

“Well, maybe there’s someone outside,” Jackie suggested.

“In the rain?”

But Jackie was already heading out, pulling on his hood as he stepped into the storm.

Of course there wasn’t anyone there. Disregarding the misery of the weather, it was hard to see anything, including the railing that marked the edge of the roof. It would be dangerous to be up there. But Jackie still walked forward, looking around, until he eventually found that railing along the edge, grabbing the rain-slicked metal to orient himself.

“No one’s here!” Marvin shouted over a clap of thunder. He’d followed Jackie out onto the roof and was now standing about an arm’s length behind him, looking extremely unhappy about the whole situation. “Let’s go!”

“Right.” Jackie nodded. “We’ll just—just try another building, and ask where we are.”

“Then what?”

“Then we’ll—we’ll get a hotel.”

“How will we pay for it?”

“Uh...okay, not a hotel. We’ll...find our way to someone’s house, o-or something, and ask if we can stay.”

“What if no one lets us in?”

“We’ll—we’ll find an empty building.” Jackie grasped desperately at a way to salvage this situation, a way that wouldn’t involve them going back. He wasn’t even sure he could find his way back; he’d forgotten Jack’s address somewhere on the way. “Yeah. And then we’ll go to sleep, and in the morning, figure out a better plan. Yeah! It’s fine. Everything will be fi—”

“Everything will not be fucking fine, Jackie!” Marvin suddenly burst out. “This was a terrible idea! Why did we think to do this?! Why did I go along with it?! It’s raining, there’s lightning, we’re lost, my clothes are wet which I hate more than murder, and you’re being delusional!”

“I—I am being optimistic!” Jackie spluttered, letting go of the railing so he could face Marvin head-on. “I am trying to make the best of a difficult situation—”

“We shouldn’t even be out here!” Marvin interrupted. Another crack of thunder rang throughout the sky, even louder than before. “You suggested this! Why’d you suggest it?”

“Well, why did you ask if we should’ve been staying with the others if you weren’t prepared to leave?” Jackie countered. “You didn’t have to come with me! You didn’t have to go out at all!”

“Oh yeah, what was I going to do, tell Jack and the others, ‘sorry, I don’t know where they went, they said they were leaving and I thought that was alright’? No!”

“You could’ve convinced me to stay!” Jackie shouted. “You could’ve shot it down when I said it! But you went along, so you must have wanted to leave, too!”

“I—yeah, but it was more of a vague thing!” Marvin protested. “A what-if! I didn’t expect us to go right then!”

Jackie grabbed Marvin by the shirt. “Then why did you leave?! Why did we leave?! Why did we want to leave?!”

The sky lit up a brilliant white, electricity crashing. A bolt of lightning had hit a lightning rod attached to the building’s roof, only a room’s width away from the two of them. Sparks flew. Marvin screamed. Jackie instinctively covered him, hugging him tight to his chest and bending over. The sound was deafening, thunder right next to their heads, and even after it faded their ears echoed with the remains of it.

“Holy shit!” Jackie gasped, blinking the brilliant light from his eyes. His eyes...which were now glowing. The left was bright green, the right an equally bright red. Marvin’s were also glowing, though his right eye was the green one, and the other one was blue. “That was—oh my god. Marvin, are you okay?”

Marvin didn’t answer for a moment. He just stared at the lightning rod, still faintly glowing from being struck. And then...he let out a quiet sob.

“M...Marvin?” Jackie took a closer look at him, and realized his face wasn’t just wet from the rain. “Hey, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s fucking not,” Marvin cried. “All I could think about while we were walking up those stairs—all I could think about were the memories, the—you know the ones, the—I wasn’t even there, I was somewhere else. I hate this. I hate this! I hate what’s happened to me! I hate that it’s my fault!”

“Your fault?!” Jackie repeated.

“My stupid fucking selfish spell,” Marvin sobbed. “It’s all because of that! Everything happened because of that! Of course I should’ve realized, if the things I did after the spell were—were like that, then of course! Of course I’m a horrible fucking person that wouldn’t care about what that spell might do!”

“Marvin—”

“And you’re just going around acting like everything is alright!” Marvin said, jabbing a finger into Jackie’s chest. “You just like—like nothing happened, you keep saying everything is fine, it might be for you, but it’s not for me! No it’s fine, it doesn’t matter!”

“I just want everything to move on, Marvin!” Jackie said, grasping Marvin’s upper arms and pulling him close. “Everything has to be fine, but it’s not, so I have to pretend it is! Because if I stop pretending, all I can think about is what I’ve done. Every time I look at the others, I remember how I hurt them! Every time I look at you, I remember how I killed you!”

Silence, and the sound of rain.

“I didn’t...didn’t know you felt that way,” Marvin said, barely audible.

“I didn’t know you did, either,” Jackie whispered.

“That’s ironic, isn’t it?” Marvin commented dully. “Aren’t we connected now? Aren’t our souls all...mixed up with each other?”

“Yeah...” Jackie nodded. “Yeah.”

The two of them stared at each other. Eyes wide, hearts pounding, breathing heavy. Letting themselves be rained on. Until—

The door to the rooftop burst open, and a couple flashlight beams fell onto the two of them.

“Marv!”

“Jackie!”

“My friends!”

It was the others. All of them. Chase was in front with Jack close behind, then Schneep in the back holding onto Jameson’s arm for extra support. “Are you two okay?!” Chase asked.

“What happened?!” Jack added.

Is everything alright? JJ signed.

“Why did you go?” Schneep said.

Jackie took a step backwards, letting go of Marvin, who was too in shock to even notice. “You guys...h-how’d you find us?”

“JJ did,” Chase explained.

Luckily the tracking spell still works, JJ said. How did you two even get here? It’s the other side of town!

“I...we took the bus,” Jackie said numbly. “How—why are you here?”

“We came to find you, of course!” Schneep said, as if it was obvious.

“Why?” Marvin asked quietly.

“What?! Because you’re our friends!” Chase said, gaping. “If you leave to go out with no note, no anything, in the middle of a thunderstorm—” Thunder rumbled in the distance as if to prove his point. “—and without any way for anyone to contact you, anything could have happened! We were so fucking worried!”

“...why?” Marvin repeated.

“You’re our friends,” Jack reiterated. “We care about you. What if you got hurt? That would be—fuck. I-I don’t even want to think about it.”

Jackie felt tears in his eyes, and he let them slip out, hidden by the rain. “But—but it was going to be better this way.”

“Better? Better?!” Schneep repeated incredulously. “No no no no no no, we went through so much to see you again. You cannot just disappear! And less expect us to be fine with it!”

“But...w-we—I—I hurt you!” Jackie blurted out. “So much! I mean, look at yourselves! You still have the scars!”

“That wasn’t you,” Chase said gently, slowly approaching. “That was Anti.”

“Well, Anti was us.”

“Anti was two parts you guys and, like, seventeen parts black magic,” Chase said. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“It feels like it,” Marvin muttered. “You’d say the same if you remembered doing it.”

“What if something happens?” Jackie said, his voice hushed. “What if we...while we’re around you guys, what if we...hurt you? Th-there’s a possibility, right? As long as we’re around.”

Jack’s next question was soft, almost unheard through the rain. “You don’t want to hurt anyone, right?”

“No!” Jackie said, aghast. Marvin shook his head furiously.

“Then you won’t,” Jack said firmly. “I mean, sure, there will be accidents. But you can’t run from everyone because you’re afraid you might hurt them. A life like that would be so lonely. We trust you. Both of you. And you trust us. That’s what friendship’s built on, isn’t it? Trust.”

Jackie fell silent. The four of them stood firm, agreeing with Jack’s sentiment. Did they...really want them to stay?

“We don’t—” Marvin stammered. “I-I-I don’t—we’re—I’m—not...the type of person...who should have friends.”

“What?” Jack asked, shocked.

“You’re all so nice, a-and good,” Marvin said. “We...I don’t...deserve you.”

“That is ridiculous,” Schneep said. “Marvin, and Jackie, you are both some of the best friends I ever had, and the same goes for everyone else.”

“We’re not...good people,” Marvin said desperately. “If we were Anti, we can’t have been. Good people wouldn’t become...that. A-and you’re all just saying it ‘cause you’re friends.”

Can I say something? JJ, who’d been waiting on the sidelines, finally spoke up. Look, I barely know either of you. I’m new to all this. But I can tell that neither of you are bad people. Flawed, yes, but so is everyone. Chase said that Anti was mostly black magic, and he’s right. You can’t be blamed for what that entity did; its perception was warped and broken. You two are nice, you seem smart, you’re friendly to others. You are not bad people.

“Look, I know, it’s hard to accept that you deserve nice things,” Chase jumped in. “But you do. You want to step away from friends and good things because you think you’re not worthy. It’s gonna be hard to accept that you are. But that’s why we’re here, okay? To help you accept that.”

“And to point out when you need something,” Schneep added. “Something that you think is above you. I swear, I will fight every single bad thought you have, anything that tells you that you do not deserve all the care and love that you do.”

Jack laughed a bit. “Yeah. We all will.”

Both of them were crying, and despite the falling rain, it was quite obvious. Marvin reached over and grabbed Jackie’s hand, pulling him close. “I...I’m sorry,” he choked out.

Jackie nodded. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice rasping. “I...we should...I’m going to go back. Are you going to?”

“Yeah. I’m going back, too.”

Jackie nodded again, then let go of Marvin’s hand. He took a deep breath, and walked over to join the others.

Marvin shivered. The rain was starting to feel even colder than it had before. But as he carefully stepped towards the group, it felt a bit warmer.

The moment the two were close, the remaining four huddled around them. Hands were held and tears were shed, slowly joining together in a tight group hug. Everyone kept saying how proud they were of them, how happy they were to have them back, how much they loved them. And more tears leaked out, though of a different sort of emotion altogether. They were so caught up in the moment that they didn’t even notice the rain until they headed back down the stairs.

And as the six headed home, the storm started to lessen.

— — — — — — —

“Can’t believe it’s actually snowing,” Jack muttered, brushing white flakes off his coat. “It never snows here.”

“I like it.” Jackie looked around, taking in the white blanket covering the park, then up at the sky. “Everything looks all clean. I like how the snow is all smooth.”

“Mm. Won’t be for long.” Jack pointed. The two of them were content to sit at a picnic table, sheltered from the snowfall by a nearby tree. But some ways away, two girls were running through the snow, pelting their dad with snowballs. Chase was laughing. It was good to see. Lily tripped over something in the snow, and he bent over to help her up. “There’s gonna be so many footprints when they’re done with it.”

“Aw.” Jackie frowned, pulling his coat closer. He didn’t really feel the cold, but it still affected him, so he had to make sure to dress appropriately for any weather. “Hey...when will the others be here? Do you think they forgot we were going to meet up?”

“I don’t—wait.” Jack paused. “Nope, there they are.”

A car pulled into the nearby lot, and three people stepped out. JJ recently got his license, so he and Chase had become the chauffeurs of the group. He looked around, then waved at the others, turning back to point them out to Marvin and Schneep. The three headed over, and Jack and Jackie made room for them at the table.

“It is so cold!” Schneep immediately started complaining. “There is going to be so much ice later, it is awful!”

“Oh shush, you like having cold weather so you can have warm drinks and stuff,” Marvin said.

“Okay, yes, but that is inside, where I cannot risk the chance of slipping,” Schneep griped.

JJ laughed. Speaking of warm drinks. He pulled his backpack off and rifled through it, taking out a couple thermoses. I thought if we were going to be meeting up out here, we should keep hot.

“Oh nice!” Jack grabbed one with his name written on the side in sharpie. “What’s this?”

Tea and coffee. And hot chocolate for the kids, JJ explained.

“Sweet,” Jackie said, leaning over to grab one as well.

“So, uh...” Jack cleared his throat, and turned to Marvin. “How’d it go?”

Marvin leaned back, rocking slightly on the picnic bench. “Good, I think. I mean, it’s just the first session, but...it was a good sign, I guess.”

“Hey, uh, Marv?” Jackie said. “I...forgot the address.”

“Oh. Right. It’s uh...Hang on a moment.” Marvin pulled out his phone, opening up the notes. “547 Norwich, on the east side. You can’t miss it, there’s a big sign with ‘Riverwood Counseling” on the front. You’re, uh...going soon?”

“Next week.” Jackie copied the address into his own phone. “‘M a bit nervous,” he mumbled.

“Nothing to be afraid of,” Schneep said encouragingly. “They are very good, very reputable. And if things are not working, they will transfer you to someone new without any charge.”

Jackie smiled a bit. “Well, I guess if you guys trust them.”

At that moment, Chase and the girls got tired of their snowball fight and came over to the table. “Hi!” Lily said brightly. “Ooooh, what’s that?”

“It’s a thermos,” Moira explained to her sister. “They’re for hot things like soup. And hot chocolate.”

“Well, would you look at that? There are two with your names on them,” Chase said brightly. “Here you go. JJ, you brought them, right?”

JJ nodded. Cocoa for them. And this one has some tea for you.

“Oh sweet! Thanks, Jays.”

It had been a few months, and the group had decided to meet up for some casual catching up. Chase had finally gotten a new house, just a rental but he hoped to find one for himself eventually. Schneep had started taking online classes. Since he couldn’t exactly continue his surgeon profession he decided to go back and find something else to do. He was particularly interested in physics, and he was convinced that it could explain how his new magic worked. Jack’s apartment was almost entirely repaired, and the Internet had finally settled down about his disappearance. JJ’s shop was picking up business again.

And Marvin and Jackie? Well, they’d found themselves a new place. A small townhouse, just big enough for both of them, part of a row of houses with connected walls. At first, they’d debated whether or not to continue living together or to live separately, but eventually decided on the former. After all, they still had problems, with memory and movement, and more, and decided it would be easier to live with someone who could help out. They were still working on finding new jobs. Jackie wanted something active, and Marvin wanted something quiet. The search was slow going, but they were making do. Jackie had been particularly bored at night, but didn’t want to go out and try being a vigilante again. Maybe eventually. Marvin was still relearning how to use his magic, and was teaching Jackie how to, as well, given Jackie’s new abilities.

The group had been talking for about half an hour when suddenly Moira tugged on the edge of Chase’s coat. “Dad? Who’s that? She’s been staring at us.”

Chase looked over towards where Moira was pointing, and his eyes widened. “Guys. Look who it is,” he said quietly.

The others all glanced in the same direction. “Shi—oh no,” Jack muttered. “It’s that—that magician. Delyth.”

JJ sighed. Well, I suppose it was only a matter of time.

“Who?” Marvin asked.

“She’s with the, uh, the magic police,” Jack explained.

“Oh fu—” Marvin quickly ducked his head, deliberately not looking over to where Delyth was standing, casually leaning against a tree.

“Should we talk to her?” Chase asked.

“I think so,” Schneep said. He paused, then stood up. “I will.”

“Wait, no, she’s coming over here!” Jackie gasped.

There was a sudden flurry of activity as the group tried to act casually, pretending they hadn’t seen her and weren’t keeping an eye on her as she walked over. Until eventually, they couldn’t pretend any longer.

Delyth stopped next to the table. “So...it is you,” she said slowly. “You know, you gave us one hell of a scare when you disappeared.”

“Hey, language,” Chase said, indicating the two small girls sitting next to him.

“Oh. Sorry.” Delyth paused. “We were looking for you, but it was like you all just...disappeared. Correct me if I’m wrong, but was a certain other magician helping with that?” Nobody answered. They weren’t about to throw Yvonne under the bus. Delyth shook her head. “Never should’ve given her access to ABIM systems,” she muttered.

“Did you want something?” Schneep asked.

“Hmm...well, no, not really.” Delyth looked them over, making eye contact with each. “You know, the ABIM is pretty busy. If a case hasn’t been active for two months, it’s deemed low priority, provided there’s no significant danger. If four months pass, we have to permanently shelve it, until there’s evidence for it becoming active again. Marked as unsolved, and people tend to forget about it.” She looked down at her watch. “Well, I have to go. It’s been nice seeing you all again. It’s been, what, five months?” After a moment, she nodded towards Jackie and Marvin. “Glad to see it all worked out. Goodbye.”

 The group remained mostly silent as she left, though Jack muttered a quiet “goodbye” and JJ waved as Delyth disappeared into a car in the parking lot and drove away. Then, once she was gone, Chase turned to the others. “What was that about?”

I think that was her saying the magicians won’t bother us, JJ signed, a bit in awe.

“Oh thank god,” Marvin breathed. “I don’t want to be on their bad side anymore. No more magic police, thank you very much.”

“She could have been a bit more direct with it, though,” Jackie added.

Jack just laughed. “Wow. So, I guess that’s the last we’ll see of her, then?”

“Provided nothing else strange happens to us,” Schneep pointed out.

“Well, I hope it doesn’t. I’ve had enough strangeness for my entire life.”

So...is it over, then? JJ asked slowly.

“Dad, what was that about?” Lily asked. “Who was that? What did she mean?” Moira nodded, agreeing with all the questions.

“Oh, it’s a bit complicated.” Chase pulled his daughter close and gave her a quick hug. “But it’s nothing to worry about anymore. I’ll explain when you’re older.”

“I guess it’s over,” Jackie repeated.

“Yeah...guess so,” Jack agreed.

Time went on, as it always does. The group ended their get-together shortly after, parting ways for a short while. After a few more months, the strange disappearances faded into local legend, with people speculating what happened but nobody getting close to the truth that was only known to a small group of six friends. Magic remained, side effects lingered, but they settled back into their place, becoming the new normal.

Still, none of them forgot what happened to them for those three years. It would be hard not to. They had scars to prove it, and some memories would never fade. But the past was the past. And together, they moved on, looking forward to the future.

[oodlyenough]

If you ever imagined a reverse AU of Anachronism where Vaughn and Sasha disappeared (with Fiona learning about the 9 mill) and reappeared 12 years later, how would you imagine Rhys and Fiona reacting?

Ok for starters I'm sorry this took me so long to answer, lol, I've been contemplating it on and off since you sent it and this got long. But then I guess I had 90k+ words to say about the scenario as it was in the fic, lmao, so.

An early stumbling block for me is that it's pretty hard for me to imagine a scenario where Sasha and Vaughn go into the vault first and by themselves, just doesn't really... seem like something they'd do tbh, they don't have protagonist syndrome like Rhys and Fiona do loool. But I guess for sake of argument let's assume they did for XYZ reason and the same set-up happens.

The core external plot, with Helios etc, would all be different obviously... I'm not gonna delve into that because it took me, like, years to come up with the original version LOL. But here is where I think I'd take the various characters and relationships, roughly:

Rhys & Fiona as the left-behind

Obviously, I think Rhys and Fiona would spend a long time searching for them -- to no avail, because like in the fic, because Sasha and Vaughn aren't anywhere to be found. But I think Rhys and Fiona's relationship might fall apart though ... I think Fiona would respond to the stress/worry by looking for someone to blame, and uh Rhys is... there. Lol I mean already canonically in Tales even if you play Rhys as fairly inoffensive in his decision-making, Fiona is furious with him, so I think it's just kind of how she processes things, and the nature of her relationship with Rhys in particular.

So, while in my fic I have Sasha and Vaughn's relationship as strained -- particulary in the off-screen period -- but ultimately friendly, I think I'd have Rhys & Fiona's friendship totally dissolved, their amicable bickering turning more and more to genuine fights, resentment and eventual estrangement years before Sasha & Vaughn come back. I think I'd have Rhys eventually go off and start Atlas and Fiona as a sort of lone wolf slash Vault Hunter character, always keeping an ear out for Sasha. :P Athena 2.0. I guess honestly I kind of see them becoming the worst versions of themselves, both detached from the relationships that kept them grounded.

(Plus, if I were writing this as a fic, I'd want conflict and places for character growth... so... I think this would be the most interesting route, lol.)

Fiona & Sasha

On the other hand I DON'T think Fiona would fall into the same thinking as Sasha wrt the money and Felix, despite the similar evidence on the face of it. I guess this is partly a function of the relationship between Fiona, Felix and Sasha. As the favoured child I don't think Fiona would have that same feeling of insecurity or worry about being left out, etc... so I don't think it would occur to her that Sasha was conspiring against her.

So I think the Sasha-Fiona reunion would be simpler, because Fiona wouldn't be angry with or push Sasha away the way that Sasha reacted to Fiona's return. I think the tension I'd want to explore with that relationship would just be sort of Sasha dealing with guilt over how Fiona has changed in her absence.

Rhys & Vaughn

Meanwhile I think Vaughn missing 12 years and coming back to find Rhys having decent success with Atlas would just underscore every insecurity Vaughn ever had about their relationship, Rhys not needing him, etc.

I guess it would also depend how Rhys develops in this universe... without Sasha or Fiona or Vaughn's influence, I could see him reverting to being more corporate-focused and career-driven again, putting him automatically at odds with the others. So the struggle with their relationship would be how to deal with being two extremely different people now. Actually this is kind of like their Bl3 arc, as I'm describing it, lmao. Except in this story Vaughn still wears pants. :P

Rhys & Sasha

So the shipper in me wants to say, like, meeting Sasha again would remind Rhys of the better person he was growing to be during tftbl and the growth he had since abandoned and help him rediscover that part of himself, etc. And maybe it would.

But from Sasha's POV... I don't know. I think Sasha would feel a deep loss at coming back to discover this guy she was coming around to liking and believing in turned out to be the person she feared he was when they first met. I think she'd feel sad and sort of betrayed and weary. My shipping it is already sort of conditional on Rhys making certain choices/behaving a particular way during Tales.

Realistically if I were writing this fic I would probably want it to be shippy LMAO so I'd be trying to make it work somehow. But it would be an uphill battle, I think, for the two of them to come together romantically.

Fiona & Vaughn / Vaughn & Sasha

....... Honestly I have no idea what I'd do with Fiona and Vaughn, lmao, I can't see them having much of a relationship in this; I don't think Fiona would resent him but I also don't think Fiona would feel much connection. They weren't super close in canon to begin with, and I don't think there'd be much pushing them together in this scenario.

Sasha and Vaughn I think would become closer due to the mutual weirdness of the situation they're in and how different Rhys and Fiona are. Consciously or not I think they'd wind up playing a role trying to peacemake between Rhys and Fiona.

[searchingwardrobes]

Early Leaf’s a Flower: 4/11

Now we reach the part of the story that has me nervous even though I am immensely proud of it. Emma and Killian will be separated for a bit here in the middle, but I just need ya'll to hang with me and trust me, okay? This is where the "fate" part of the summary begins to come into play.

This is also when Emma meets Neal and Killian meets Milah. I am writing these relationships more along the lines of being young and making immature decisions rather than villainizing Neal and Milah. In canon, Neal and Milah were both significantly older than Emma and Killian (which is an interesting parallel I have never thought much about before, come to think of it), but in this story, all four of them are the same age (17). There is no relation whatsoever between Neal and Milah in this story. Neal is also just Neal, not Bae. In other words, he has no connection to the fairy tale realms. He's just another runaway teenager.

I have to once again thank the mods of the @captainswanbigbang​ , and my betas @shippingtheswann​, @distant-rose​, and @optomisticgirl​ for believing in this fic, especially this section and for encouraging me when I doubted myself. I especially want to give a shout out to Ro who encouraged me to write Milah in the way I had envisioned instead of changing her character to please the fandom.

So, fingers crossed, here we go! Got your tissues ready?

Summary: She saw eyes that were the blue of the forget me not peering at her through the cracked door of the wardrobe. He saw hair as gold as the buttercups. Why does the wardrobe keep bringing them back to one another, if fate keeps tearing them apart? Or maybe fate has her reasons …

Rating: M for eventual sexy times, violence, canonical character death, and attempted rape

Trigger warnings: vague references to child abuse (physical and sexual), violence, and positive Millian

Words: Around 7k in this chapter (all chapters will be rather lengthy from here on out)

** Complete and updated every Monday** Also on Ao3

Emma: Age 17

Emma wipes at her cheeks, frustrated with herself for crying. Those people don’t deserve her tears. She plops down on the bench in front of the bus stop in downtown Bangor, Maine, the one bag she always keeps packed at her feet. She’s fully aware of what running away at seventeen means.

There will be no more chances.

That makes her frustrated with herself, too. The fact that a tiny part of her still clings to hope, even now. Even after the words her foster father spoke just this evening.

“We have to think of our children, Emma, if you’re going to act this way.”

“Our” children - and that didn’t include her. They didn’t even wait to hear her side of the story. They never asked why she got into the fight in the first place and never once thought that maybe the pot in her book bag wasn’t even hers. It was clear how they saw her - a screwed up orphan who couldn’t be trusted.

She sees the bus coming towards her, and she snatches her bag. She’s not sure how far she can get on the cash she’s got, but any place is better than here. She never belonged in the suburbs anyway.

All she has in her pocket is a little cash that she lifted from her former foster mother’s purse. Portland - that’s how far the cash gets her, with a few bucks left over. She blows it all on a grilled cheese and onion rings in a greasy diner next to the bus stop. She gets as many refills of her soda as she can before the waitress starts to get suspicious.

A year in the suburbs has made Emma rusty, and she wastes way too much time wandering around the city. She hopes that she’s at least walking with a purpose. The most important rule on the streets is to never show vulnerability or weakness.

It begins to rain, and she needs a place to sleep. The corner of her mouth kicks up in the hint of a smile when she sees what’s a block ahead near the pier. It’s a carnival, closed for the season. Better yet, there’s a gap in the gate of the chain link just wide enough for a slender girl to slip through. Surely there’s a warm, dry place to spend the night somewhere on the grounds.

As Emma walks around the silent carnival, she has to admit that it’s a bit eerie. The swings move subtly in the breeze, their chains clanking. Rain pelts the colorful awnings and drips down the boarded up booths. The rain starts to come down harder, and Emma dashes across the grounds with her hoodie over her head. It’s getting dark fast.

“Hey! Hey, you!”

The voice is jolting in the abandoned setting, and Emma’s feet move faster. She clambers aboard a dark carousel just as the pouring rain turns into a full blown storm. The wind whistles around the still carousel, and lightning illuminates the immobile faces of horses, zebras, and unicorns.

Emma hears the shouts again, almost inaudible over the storm, and she drops down on all fours. She scrambles beneath the feet of the wooden menagerie to the very center of the carousel. She presses her back against the wood, heart pounding.

The beam of a flashlight cuts through the darkness, and Emma claps her hands to her mouth as if that can help cloak her from the light.

“Who’s there?”

Emma’s hands slip from her face as she realizes that it isn’t the voice of an adult. Still, she looks around frantically, hoping to see a service door somewhere. A security guard would call the cops, but another teenager might do something ten times worse to a girl alone out here. Emma can’t see a damn thing between the flashes of lightning, so she crawls along the edges of the center of the carousel, hands groping for an opening.

“Hey, stop!” the voice shouts again, and the light of the flashlight blinds Emma. Hands reach out, but she fights against them. “Stop it, I’m not gonna hurt you!”

The only reason she believes him is because he releases her. Her eyes blink open, but all she can see is a shadowy figure leaning over her. The flashlight is rolling away on the floor of the carousel. The lightning flashes again, just long enough to show her the face of a teenage boy. They’re plunged back into darkness, however, just as quickly.

“You a runaway too?”

“Too?”

“Hey listen,” he says, gently touching her arm, “I’m gonna go get my flashlight, okay? Don’t run off.”

Emma isn’t sure if it’s his youth or her fear of the storm that keeps her where she is. He comes back, shining the flashlight at her feet so he doesn’t blind her again. When he hunkers down in front of her, the light fully illuminates him, and she’s able to get a good look at him: extremely thick, slightly curly brown hair that falls into his dark brown eyes, a boyish smile, and a nose that’s a tad too large for his face. The hoodie he’s wearing is stained, ripped, and soaked from the rain.

“I’m Neal,” he tells her, “Neal Cassidy.”

She simply regards him suspiciously.

“This is the part where you tell me your name,” he adds with a grin.

Emma turns away from his gaze and crosses her arms stubbornly. He sighs.

“I get it, I really do, but you’re gonna have to trust me.”

“I don’t have to do anything,” she snaps.

“If you want to survive, you do,” he replies solemnly. “Now, do you wanna see where we sleep or not? Cause it’s a lot better than this carousel.”

“We?”

Killian: Age 17

“Man overboard!”

The crew of the Jolly Roger rush to get ropes as soon as the words leave Curly’s mouth from where he stands guard in the crow’s nest. It’s a mission they’ve been through many times, fishing lost boys out of the water.

“Starboard!” Curly yells, and they hurry to that side of the ship.

The Jolly Roger, despite being captained by a boy of seventeen, is still the finest ship to sail the seas in any realm, just as it was under its other name - The Jewel of the Realm. And despite its crew ranging in age from twelve to eighteen, her familiar outline shimmering on the horizon is already enough to strike fear in the hearts of the most experienced sailors. For one, the Jolly Roger with its pegasus sail has been known to drop upon a ship from the skies above. Then there are the tales of the demon pirate children and their one-handed captain, stories that have almost reached the status of legend. Enough so that Hook and his crew have to shed very little blood. Their intent is to avenge the death of Liam Jones, and to that end, crippling the navy of King George is enough.

Killian Jones is no longer the navy's disciplined sailor he was a year ago, but more importantly, he also is no longer a boy. Plenty of sailors underestimate him because of his age, but few seventeen year olds carry the experience or the tragedy of Captain Hook.

As for Pan, Killian hasn’t forgotten the day he slashed his brother with dreamshade. Though Captain Hook longs for a more violent revenge, the best he can do for the moment is rescue Pan’s boys from thinning, and occasionally, save a boy from Pan’s shadow. Not all boys come to Peter willingly, and many used to perish in the waves around the island until Hook started fishing them out of the water. Both practices have caused The Jolly Roger’s crew to swell over the past year.

On this particular day, his crew is fishing their latest recruit out of the water. Two in as many days? Pan doesn’t usually send his shadow out that frequently. Then again, he’d thinned a few recently. No matter how hard the pirates try to save them, not all Lost Boys realize the intent of their leader until it’s too late. Hook’s current cabin boy also fought off the shadow just yesterday. Killian grins as he thinks of Pan’s frustration. He lounges against a few barrels, crossing his legs at the ankles, and casually watches his crew work the ropes. He arches a brow as the wet figure flops to the deck.

“Looks like it’s a pirate’s life for you, boy,” he says. As the “boy” stands, Captain Hook finds himself speechless, something that hasn’t happened in well over a year.

The entire crew gasps, for standing before them, dripping wet, chest heaving, and fire in her eyes is not a lost boy but a lost girl. She wears a corseted dress that shows off an ample amount of her bosom, and Hook’s been in enough ports to know a lady of the night when he sees one. Yet she is, indeed, a girl. Not a woman. Anger flashes clearly in his suddenly darkening eyes. His crew misinterprets it as frustration towards the girl herself. They all eye her warily and step a few paces away from her.

Hook draws closer to her, removing his long leather duster as he does so. She lifts her chin defiantly, almost hiding the shiver that courses through her body. He swings the duster towards her, the words of a gentleman on his tongue, but she slaps his hand away. The crew murmurs nervously, but all Hook does is smirk at her.

“You are cold, lass, I was offering my coat.”

“I don’t need your charity,” she spits, “all I need is to find someone, and I’ll be on my way.”

Killian’s brow arches as he regards her. “I see. Unfortunately for you, that will be rather difficult to accomplish without the aid of me and my crew.”

She props her hands on her hips and scowls at him. “Doubtful.”

He draws closer and leans forward to whisper in her ear. “No. Fact.”

She narrows her stormy gray eyes at him, and he’s close enough to see the swirls of blue in them. Some of her dark curls have stuck to her wet face, and he wants to reach out and brush them away, but he refrains. She strikes him as the type of lass who would not welcome such a gesture.

A sudden, high pitched shout of delight breaks the tension, and the girl lets out a cry as she shoves past Killian. She falls to her knees in front of Hook’s new cabin boy, a lad of only six, and envelops him in her arms.

“Mason!” she says, her hard facade slipping away as she holds the boy tight and cries with joy. “I’ve been so worried ever since that shadow -”

“It’s okay!” the boy interrupts with childish exuberance. He rushes over to his Captain and tugs on his hook. “Captain Hook let me join his crew! I’m his cabin boy!”

Those eyes of hers become tumultuous again, and Killian regards her in contemplation. The boy is six, the lad told him so, but surely this girl can’t be his mother. He knows, however, that not all the girls in the brothels are of age, nor are they all there by choice. He guesses the young lady before him would have had to give birth at the age of only thirteen, at the most, if she truly is the boy’s mother.

“What have you been doing to him?” she snaps.

“Taking care of him,” Killian says calmly but with authority, “and a thank you would be in order that we fished him out of the sea.”

“And kept him hidden from Peter Pan,” Starkey, his first mate, adds.

Killian kneels before Mason. “How about you go below and get some hardtack from cook while I talk to your -”

“Sister. And her name is Milah.”

Killian lets out a small sigh of relief. “Yes, your sister.”

“Okay!” Mason chirps as he skips off. Killian watches him go fondly. They normally don’t take on boys as young as he is, but Mason had fought the shadow tooth and nail where most lads his age are eager to see The Neverland. He sees a jadedness in the boy’s eyes that is much too familiar.

Killian stands and turns to Mason’s sister. He bows. “Milah, I believe it is?”

“Yes,” she says coolly.

“If I may have a word with you, m’lady?”

She tosses her hair saucily over one shoulder, yet takes the arm he offers her anyway. He glares at his crew and shouts for them to get back to work. He and Milah stroll to the ship’s bow.

“May I ask,” he begins, knowing he must proceed with caution, “how you managed to follow your brother here?”

Milah sighs and lets go of his arm. “A week ago, Mason told me about the shadow coming to our window. He said it whispered to him about a place where orphan boys can be free. I’m ashamed to say that I brushed it off as a dream.”

“But it kept coming back.”

Milah nods. “It began to frighten Mason, too. He said that the shadow wanted to take him away from me. I told him to keep the window locked. I have to work nights, you see . . . “ Milah trails off, a blush rising to her cheeks as she looks away from him in shame.

“Hey,” Killian says softly, turning her chin gently towards him, “I was sold as a slave when I wasn’t much older than Mason. I know what it means to just survive.”

She holds his gaze for only a moment before turning away, her hard demeanor back in place. “Anyway, I came home one night to see the shadow for myself, but it already had Mason. I lunged for my brother, but it was too late, the shadow was flying away with him.”

“Then how did you get here?” He glances up at the pegasus sail fluttering above them. “It is no easy feat, lass.”

Milah smiles with a bit of pride behind her eyes. “I went to a sorceress in the village square. It took far too much of my coin, but she had the information I sought. She said if I stood before my open window and said I believe, the shadow would come for me.”

“And it did,” Killian says, unable to keep the admiration from his voice.

She nods. “Aye, but the sorceress warned me not to let the shadow take me all the way to the island. I wasn’t sure why, but figured I should listen, so -”

“So here we are.” Killian leans against the railing, admiring the way the sea air rustles her curls. She shivers again, and he once again offers his coat. This time, she accepts.

“Here we are,” she says, suddenly shy. He sees now a hint of her real age.

“How old are you?” he asks gently, hoping she won’t take the question as anything more than genuine curiosity.

She bites her bottom lip as she clutches his duster tighter. “Seventeen.”

His cheeks dimple with the force of his smile. “So am I .”

“Are you serious?” Her jaw drops. “The fearsome Captain Hook is just a boy?”

“A boy!”

She laughs teasingly, then cocks her head at him. “So, does the offer still stand?”

He tilts his head. “Offer?”

“You know, a pirate’s life for me.”

He reaches out and adjusts the heavy coat that rests on her slim shoulders. “Yes, Milah. I think you’ll make a damn good pirate.”

Emma: Age 17

Emma stares out across the dark carnival grounds, pushing the swing around idly with her foot. She hears chains clink behind her and sighs wearily.

“Hey,” Neal says, grasping the chains of her swing and spinning her to face him.

“Hey.”

He searches her face and gives her a boyish grin. “Don’t let them get to you, Ems.”

She says nothing. She searches his eyes, for what she isn’t sure. He tugs the swing forward and captures her lips in a kiss. She kisses him back for a moment, then pushes gently on his chest.

“I’m still mad at you,” she grumbles.

He shakes his head and chuckles, which causes Emma a tiny prick of irritation. He lifts the metal bar of the swing nearest her and sits, his long, awkward teenage legs sprawled out on either side of hers.

“They were just messing with us. They know we’re a thing, so -”

“It was my first time, Neal!” Emma snaps before he can finish.

“It’s not like I planned it or anything,” he shoots back, still with that infuriating grin on his face, “one thing led to another -”

“I was there, Neal,” she tells him dryly.

“My point is, I didn’t mean for it to happen that way.”

Emma blushes as the memories of the night before come back to her. “You said they wouldn’t be able to hear us.”

“I didn’t know you were going to moan that loud.”

She kicks him, but can’t help smiling shyly at his teasing. He leans forward and yanks her swing close to his until their noses are brushing.

“I also didn’t know you were going to cry out my name like that.”

She bites her lip at the heated look in his eyes. Honestly, she had yelped his name more than crying it out. It had hurt at first, but she’s too embarrassed to tell him that.

“I . . . “ she swallows thickly as he presses a kiss right at the corner of her mouth, “Neal, I . . . “

“Yes?” he mumbles against her neck.

Emma stops the explorations of his lips with her hands to his cheeks so she can look him in the eye. “I think . . . that is, I . . . I love you, Neal.”

He smiles brightly then, pulling her close and kissing her with incredible passion. He doesn’t say anything back, doesn’t say he loves her too. She tells herself that’s okay, though. After all, they’re only seventeen.

*************************************

Lily is the leader. Emma isn’t sure exactly how that came to be, though she guesses it has something to do with Lily’s intimidating demeanor. There’s something darkly intense about her, an edge behind her dusky eyes that makes everyone in their crew afraid to question her authority.

There are seven of them, including Emma, forming a loose sort of family. Neal had been correct that first night - the supply warehouse they’re squatting in is a much better place to crash than the carousel. It’s a slightly macabre final resting place for anything broken or out of use, from rusted coaster cars to broken haunted house furniture. There’s even an old red sleigh and a troupe of ten-foot tall nutcrackers when the carnival had apparently been open for the holidays.

Neal was also telling the truth that they’re all runaways. Emma, however, is the only actual orphan. Truth be told, she secretly thinks the rest of them are all a little self absorbed in their reasons to leave home. Neal’s dad apparently had become angry and bitter after his mother’s death. Emma has to keep from rolling her eyes every time Neal tells her how the man “just didn’t understand him anymore.” Claudia and Jamie felt overlooked in a big family, Sam just longed for adventure, and August chafed against his father’s rules. Then there’s Lily, adopted as an infant by parents who she claims never loved her and - naturally - didn’t understand her. The whole “they don’t understand me” thing is a constant refrain, and one Emma is frankly a little tired of hearing.

When Neal had brought her to the group that first night, he’d gone straight to Lily who had regarded Emma, shivering and dripping water on the concrete floor, with casual disdain. Then her mouth had ticked up into a smile that Emma couldn’t quite read.

“Welcome to the family,” she’d told her, and only then had the rest of the group even approached her. They’d each carved out space amongst all the junk, using bits of this and pieces of that to make beds. There wasn’t really a “bed” for Emma, though, so Neal had offered to share his. When Jamie, who is only thirteen, snickered, Emma had blushed and said she’d figure something else out.

“Oh don’t be such a baby,” Lily had snapped with a roll of her eyes, “we already know he wants to fuck you. Emma’s staying with Neal, and that’s just how it is.”

She’d said the last as if it were a royal proclamation, and everyone had scattered to go to bed for the night. Neal’s face had been bright red, and he’d not only mumbled an apology, but had been a perfect gentleman that first night.

But only the first night. And now here she is, in the first real relationship of her young life, and five other kids heard every word of it. It’s humiliating and degrading. Yet Emma knows better than to mess this thing up. Lily’s crew means protection, it means seven kids pulling cons and picking pockets and sharing the spoils. And it may not be the family she’s spent her whole life dreaming of, but it’s better than being alone.

Emma isn’t sure where Neal is at the moment. She’s attempting to get a moment to herself, hidden behind the broken down cotton candy machine that makes one “wall” of the “bedroom” she shares with Neal. Claudia had swiped a pad of paper and some pencils from a discount store yesterday and hadn’t minded sharing with Emma. It’s been years since she’s sketched, but inspiration struck. Her pencil flies across the paper, and when she’s finished, tears sting inexplicably at the corner of her eyes. It’s the wardrobe. She bites on her lower lip and swallows back a sudden lump in her throat. She remembers the sparkle in Killian’s eyes and a bit of sadness sweeps over her as she wonders where he is right now. She shakes her head and crumples the paper in her hand. Why the hell is she thinking about that wardrobe today?

“Emma?”

She jolts and turns to see Jamie standing there. “Neal wanted me to give you this,” he tells her as he hands her a piece of paper.

Emma rolls her eyes as she takes the paper from him. “You can wipe that shit-eating grin off your face, Jamie.”

His grin only gets wider. “Did Claude tell you she swiped some ear plugs for me? She doesn’t want your sex noises corrupting me.”

She jumps up to smack the kid across his smug face, but he darts away laughing before she can reach him. Letting out a frustrated huff of breath, she opens the note he’s given her.

“Meet me at the spot where we first met. xoxo Neal”

Even though the xoxo postscript is a little middle school, she can’t help the smile that fills her face. She heads eagerly for the carousel and finds Neal waiting for her. He grabs her around the waist and kisses her in greeting, and when they part Emma has to catch her breath.

“Where have you been all day?” she asks him.

The grin he gives her fills his face and lights up his brown eyes. “Working on a surprise.”

She smiles back, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. “A surprise? For who?”

He shrugs teasingly. “I was thinking maybe Claudia would like it - ow!” He rubs at where she punched him in the arm, though her indignation seems to only make his smile broader. “Just kidding, Ems, you know it’s for you. Come on!”

Neal pulls her across the carnival grounds almost at a run, and Emma is breathless again when he stops in front of an office door. She quirks a brow at him.

“What’s in there?”

He shuffles his feet back and forth, nervous for the first time. “Um, just close your eyes.”

Emma eyes him suspiciously.

“Please?”

She shrugs and complies. She hears the door swing open, and Neal tugs her hands gently to lead her inside. The door shuts behind her, and she feels Neal pressed up against her back. He leans forward and whispers in her ear.

“Keep your eyes closed until I say.”

“Okay,” she agrees, letting her breath out in a huff.

“I’m really sorry about how our first time went. I should have planned it - made it special. So . . . maybe this will make it up to you?”

He tells her to open her eyes, and when she does, she sees a small, modest office with wood paneling, filing cabinets, and a musty smell. However, there’s also a couch along one wall that Neal has scattered with rose petals and on every flat surface in the room, tea candles flicker.

“Well?” he asks her, shoving his hands in his pockets and rocking back on his heels.

“I . . . I . . . “ Emma swallows around the sudden lump in her throat. “How did you even get in here?”

She worries that maybe she’s hurt his feelings, but Neal just shrugs. “I picked the lock. It was a simple one with no deadbolt, so . . . “

Emma wanders around the small room, taking in every candle, reaching out to touch some of the rose petals.

“They’re fake,” he tells her apologetically. “The convenience store didn’t have real ones. Oh, and I got you something else!”

Neal reaches into his jeans pocket and pulls out a key chain which he dangles in front of her. Emma reaches out to take it, smiling down at the round pendant.

“It’s a swan.” She throws her arms around him and gives him a brief kiss. “I love it!”

She wraps her arms tighter around him as he pulls her close. She buries her nose in his shoulder and revels in his embrace. Then, suddenly, a bright fluorescent light catches her eye. Just over Neal’s shoulder is another door, and through the square window in its center she sees something she remembers from her past.

“What’s that?” she whispers as she steps away from Neal and draws closer to the door.

“Oh, that’s the arcade,” Neal tells her, “this office must be for the manager.”

Emma turns the knob and is surprised to find it unlocked. She steps out into the dark arcade, drawing closer to the glass cube that pulses with a neon glow.

“I wonder why that one’s still plugged in,” Neal muses.

Emma presses her palm to the glass and draws closer. Voices from the past drift to the forefront of her memory. Now, decide which prize you want, and focus. Emma remembers the way the game had sparked, how Sarah hadn’t seemed fazed at all. The claw in this machine hangs immobile, and Emma gives a soft gasp as she sees the prize right below it - a stuffed white rabbit with a pink ribbon around its neck.

“Emma?” Neal asks hesitantly.

What if you did have magic, Emma?

I travel to you through an enchanted wardrobe, Emma. And you think magic sounds crazy?

“Emma?” Neal tries again.

“Do you believe in magic?” she whispers, her hand still pressed to the glass, her gaze still fixed on that stuffed rabbit.

Neal laughs. “I don’t know if you’ve been paying attention, but this life of ours ain’t no fairy tale.”

A tear slips from the corner of Emma’s eye and rolls down her cheek. “But there are things that can’t be explained. Aren’t there?”

Neal steps closer and grasps her loosely by the elbow. “Emma, what’s wrong? You’re kind of freaking me out.”

Emma shakes her head, swiping at the wet spot on her cheek. “Nothing.”

Neal turns her to face him, his eyes searching hers carefully. “Is this still about the sex thing?”

Emma can’t help it, she blurts out a laugh. “Don’t worry, Cassidy, you didn’t waste all those candles.”

His pupils widen as he grins eagerly. “Well, I’m relieved to hear that. Although I stole the candles so . . . “

Emma shakes her head and throws her arms around his neck. “It’s the thought that counts.”

“You know,” Neal says softly, rubbing her arms, “everyone’s on edge because the carnival’s off season is almost over.”

Emma sighs and presses her forehead to his. “I know. Lily wants to have a meeting tomorrow to talk about it.”

“What if we . . . took off on our own?”

Emma rolls her eyes. “You can’t be serious. Where would we even go?”

“Well, don’t tell Lily this,” he says, looking around nervously as if Lily might be hiding behind the pinball machines, “but I’ve had a few big scores that I’ve kept to myself.”

“Seriously? How much?”

“Enough to get us pretty far,” he tells her confidently, then he’s yanking her hand eagerly back inside the office. He stops in front of a map of the United States hanging next to a small desk. Grinning broadly, he sweeps his hand across the expanse of it. “Come on, Emma, dream big. Where do you want to go?”

She shakes her head. “You’re crazy.”

He wraps his arms around her waist. “Only about you.” Then he releases her, and turns her towards the map. “Go ahead, pick someplace, and it’s yours.”

“Mine? Or ours?”

“Ours.”

Emma smiles, her cheeks flushed, then she closes her eyes, extends her hand and walks blindly towards the map. When her finger collides with its surface, she opens her eyes.

“Tallahassee,” she reads aloud, then she spins to face Neal, “is there a beach?”

“It’s Florida.” He shrugs. “It’s all beach.”

Emma rests her hands on his shoulders and gives him a slow, tender kiss. “So we’re doing this?”

“Yeah. Tallahassee it is.”

****************************************

Emma really doesn’t like riding in the back of this van. Or more specifically, her stomach doesn’t like it. She moans and rests her head on Neal’s shoulder.

“Are you okay?” he asks her.

“You two aren’t naked back there are you?” Jamie asks in a loud, obnoxious voice.

“Shut up, you little shit!” Emma yells back.

Correction, Emma doesn’t like being in this van at all. This ugly, avocado van from the early 80s that smells like a sickening combination of pot and urine. Neal had said they were going to head off on their own once the crew left the carnival, yet here they are. They’d had a fight about it, but Neal had insisted that they needed a bit more cash. Lily had a big con planned, and once they pulled it off, getting to Tallahassee would be child’s play.

Emma’s stomach roils, and she scrambles over the three rows of bench seats to the front passenger seat. She almost pukes all over Jamie, which would have been great karma, come to think of it. She plops down next to Lily, who’s driving, and quickly rolls the manual window down. She sighs in relief once the cool air hits her face.

“Car sick?” Lily asks.

“Yeah,” Emma sighs as she presses her temple against the side of the window.

“Well, you can stay up here with me.”

“Thanks. Where are we going, again?”

Lily grins as she glances at Emma, then back to the road. “All the ski resorts up here are closing up for the summer. The people who own cabins up here are loaded. We can squat in style until fall.”

Emma narrows her eyes. “But Neal said we’d be flush with cash.”

Lily gives her that icy look that says she finds Emma incredibly naive. “Of course we will. Before we head out, we’ll clean the place out. We’re talking major electronics - TVs, gaming systems, DVD players.”

“Okay,” Emma says warily.

“Just you wait,” Lily assures, “it’s gonna be incredible.”

****************************************

On her third night in the vacation home in the mountains, Emma wakes up to a flashlight blinding her eyes and questions being shouted at her. As the cops escort her down the stairs and out the front door, she sees that the others have cleaned the place out already. Nothing but wires stick out of the wall in the family room where the tv, vcr, and gaming system had been connected. She’s barefoot and in a pair of pajamas that she’d found in the master bedroom drawer, but none of the cops seem to care as they put her in the squad car. She’s not handcuffed, though, maybe because she was too disoriented to resist.

Emma sits there in the back seat, cursing her stupidity. She should have seen this coming the moment Lily smirked at her that first night. There were so many signs that the girl was a complete narcissist, and Emma had missed them all. How could she ever think Lily was her friend?

Emma reaches into the pocket of her pajama pants and clutches the small white stick she’d slipped inside before going to bed. Why she’d put it there, she doesn’t even know. She shouldn’t be surprised that Neal bailed on her after the way he reacted when she’d told him. He’d literally recoiled from her, his face pale.

Well, they’d taken care of her, hadn’t they? The expensive silver from the dining room slipped into her bag was an especially nice touch. A clean break from the girl who was nothing but a burden.

After all, what crew of teen runaways wants a pregnant seventeen year old?

Killian: Age 17

Killian’s eyes blink open drowsily, and he doesn’t feel particularly ready to get out of bed. He shoves his pillow under his chest, groans, and then reaches out to pull Milah close. All he feels is empty sheets. He rolls over to look around the cabin, and there she is, clad in her shift, her dark curls a riotous mess down her back. She’s standing in front of the wardrobe, running her fingers over the intricate carvings that cover the doors.

“How did you get this?” she asks.

Killian hops up out of bed, wrapping the sheets around his waist. “It’s um, always been here, even back when this was a naval ship.”

“What do you even keep in this thing?”

“No, don’t!” he shouts, slamming his good hand against the door before she can open it. He isn’t wearing his hook, so the sheets he was grasping tumble to the floor.

Milah looks him up and down appreciatively and smirks. “Though I like the view better without the sheet, why are you so jumpy about a piece of furniture?”

“I um . . . I just . . .” Killian snatches up the sheets and holds them in front of himself while he turns and presses his back to the wardrobe. “I don’t want anything to happen to you. This wardrobe - it’s magic.”

Milah’s eyes widen. “Magic? How?”

“It opens a portal to another realm.”

“Really?” she replies, skeptically. “Prove it.”

Killian blinks rapidly, his brain scrambling for a reply, but all that comes out is one word. “No.”

“No?” Her hands are on her hips, and her glare could curdle milk. “What are you hiding?”

“I’m not hiding anything!”

“Then why are you blushing?”

He feels his cheeks heat even more under her icy stare. What’s he hiding? Only that he checks the wardrobe every day? That despite the fact that he cares deeply for Milah, he still sometimes wonders where Emma is and if she’s okay? He feels so nervous under Milah’s intense stare that he stumbles sideways when she shoves him in the shoulder.

“Milah!” he shouts as she flings open the wardrobe. He lets out a relieved breath when all that’s inside is an empty rod for hanging clothes.

“Is this some kind of joke?” she demands when she whirls back to face him.

Killian collapses on the edge of the bed and reaches out a hand to her. “Come here, and I’ll tell you.”

She eyes him warily but sits anyway. He runs his hand nervously through his hair, unsure where to begin. He finally decides to just start at the beginning when he was ten. Once he starts talking, he can’t seem to stop, and he tells her everything: his crush on Emma, the white rabbit, even the kiss. When he finally finishes, he looks at Milah sheepishly.

“I’m sorry.”

Milah smiles softly and cups his face gently. “Why? Because you loved someone before you met me?”

Killian blinks rapidly. “Loved?”

She shrugs. “I mean, it was puppy love, maybe, but it was real. And pretty cute, actually.”

He tilts his head in surprise. “Really?”

She brushes a kiss to his cheek. “Really.” She looks back over at the wardrobe. “So you were nervous that I might end up face to face with her. With Emma?”

Killian rubs his face. “Aye, I suppose.”

Milah laughs. “I guess that could have been awkward, especially since you’re wearing nothing but a sheet right now.”

Milah’s eyes turn a darker shade of gray as she runs her hands over his chest and pushes him back down on his cot. He was nervous six months ago when their relationship first turned physical. Milah was obviously very experienced and was used to men, not boys. Yet she told him as he held her close in the afterglow that before him, all she had known were men who took from her, often violently. He was different.

Still, there was a part of Milah he felt that he could never quite reach.Her homelife had been difficult and became worse once her mother remarried. However, she had never told him exactly what life had been like with her stepfather. All she would say was that the man had planned to marry her off to a local farmer when she was fourteen, so she’d run away. The thing was, she’d taken Mason with her. Killian knew there had to be more to the story than that.

It felt as if Milah was holding back when they were making love, too. She was definitely teaching him things, and he certainly didn’t mind that. It was more that she seemed to get uncomfortable anytime Killian tried to initiate anything. She wanted to be in control, so he let her. As long as she felt safe, that was all that mattered.

Besides, it wasn’t as if he had much to offer her. A seventeen year old boy with a mutilated stump instead of a left hand leading a crew of kids. Milah took to being a pirate naturally, however, wielding a sword and fighting just as well as the rest of them. There was even a type of manic joy on her face when they overtook a crew, as if she were getting vengeance on every man who had ever touched her.

Emma had always been a mystery to him, but it was because her entire existence felt like a fantasy. Milah was a mystery to him in a different way. She confused him and fascinated him in equal measure. She was a deep well, jaded and wounded, that he wasn’t sure he could ever plumb even though he wanted to. Thoughts of Emma Swan, though they still plagued him at times, seemed to belong to an entirely different boy. A boy he wasn’t sure still existed.

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