Doesn't sleep with men, just a man- though Gerard barely counts at that. The others are either like Frank- too Macho to be fun- or they walk around like girls- if he wanted that he'd get it. Gerard is just... Both and neither at the same time. Someone he can check out girls with, but also the guy who gets on his back when they both strike out. Sometimes he's the better choice.
It's comfortable.
Until it's not.
Until he starts to like the feeling of Gerard next to him at night- he's real soft in places Frank's not. Gets weirder when Frank starts to miss the smell on his pillow. Sweat and turpentine- feels like less of a intrusion than it used to.
But it mostly just feels like hanging out.
Wearing the tie was supposed to help things, at least Gerard thought it would, but it doesn't.
Just gets called cute and told to walk in behind his friend.
Gotta stop letting Frank talk him into things.
Last week it was skipping dinner with his folks, tonight it’s singing. In front of people who just can’t wait to hate him. The band’s been nice, guys he doesn’t pay much attention to.
One song.
That’s what he promised Frank.
One song then he gets to bolt. He’d wrote it a week ago. Figured he’d get ahead of the crowd- say what they were thinking before it felt like a big deal.
“If you get nervous, just look at me, “ Frank reminded him, “or find a nice pair in the crowd,”
An eyeroll and a tap on the shoulder. Gerard took a deep breath and started to sing:
Fat and alone
You're on your own
And no one is calling
On your telephone
A couple of snickers, a few faces of confusion. But the stage lights are dim so it feels like hiding. Frank jumping in on the chorus made him keep going:
Things aren't getting any better
(You're fat and alone)
And you stretched out all your sweaters
(So fat and alone)
Things aren't getting any better
They never, no never
It’s over before he can feel the judgement. Doesn’t even care if they liked it or not, just that his friend saw. Can’t wait until the show is over. That’s when he gets the hug. If it was good he’d get a kiss.
He gets a seat in the corner. Close enough that their thighs touch, but Frank keeps getting closer. He’s being very...nice tonight. Can't keep his hands out of Gerard's hair, called him pretty like three times...he likes that- not many 19 year old guys do.
He also likes the way Frank looks at him, like guys do in the movies just before they kiss the girl.
"Got a nice face," he slurs.
Gerard feels himself blush as he brushes his hand away but it's too late-
"Yo, aren’t one of you guys in the faggy band?" Gerard's eyes follow the sound of that word he never thought would be thrown at him.
He recognizes the guy from a few other parties, always too loud. Too drunk. Takes the girls even Frank can't get. Thinks one of them's following behind him. Doesn't go to art school that's for sure- never sees frat symbols in his classes.
Still, too many guys like that around tonight. Gerard wondered if this one would let them off the hook.
Gerard looks at Frank silently begging to leave, but frank is smirking, playing with that new lip ring of his...he's got a nice tongue Gerard thinks.
"That's my faggy little band,” He laughs, “he just sings and lets me bend him over after the set, "
Embarrassment almost makes him spit out his Zima, the same reason he forced it back down. Glaring at Frank, begging him to knock it off before they both ended up crying in the bathroom.
Frank smiles wider and sips his drink, he leans back and asks the guy for one more... one more what? he says. "Insult about my friend...was hoping tonight could get fun."
The guy scoffs, almost laughs as he turns to Gerard who is trying his best to use the force to get him out of it.
“Him? The fat guy? If you were gonna switch teams could’ve gone for something better? Or did you still want tits?”
Gerard freezes- he always considered himself a pacifist. Frank liked ‘pussy’ better.
Never seen him do much except smile at whoever looked easiest. The look on his face tonight, though? Like he was asking for it.
"Whatever, just- keep your weird make out sessions to the dorm- oh wait- aren't you the guy that tried to off himself last year? What a pussy.”
That’s it, Frank thinks. He stands up, hands Gerard his beer and cracks his knuckles.
Gerard finds anywhere else to be, doesn’t want to be roped in to whatever this was going to be.
Still, he watches from the corner...almost feels bad for the guy, feels something else watching Frank get so mad- for him. That's probably what made him feel that flutter under his belt buckle.
But then he thinks he sees a tooth on the floor.
Follows his best friend into the bathroom afterwards. Finds him rinsing red streaks down the drain. Flexing his fingers under the water.
Gerard leans against the sink, watching him splash cold water over raw knuckles. Blood swirls down the drain in thin, fast circles.
"You hurt your hand?" Gerard asks, voice low.
Frank glances over his shoulder, grinning, "That's not my blood."
Gerard lifts an eyebrow, "I think he might be missing some teeth."
Frank shrugs, pleased with the new information, "Good. Shouldn't have talked about you like that."
Gerard huffs a laugh, shaking his head. "I'm the one that wore the eyeliner, Frank. I'm the one who picked out these jeans."
Frank turns, hands dripping, "Yeah, and you just showed up here to—" He cuts himself off with a tight, crooked grin, "We were having a good time. He tried to ruin it."
Gerard crosses his arms. "You were laying it on a little thick, don't you think? What'd you think was gonna happen"
Frank shrugs again, lazy, "What difference does it make? If you were a real girl, no one would have said shit. If I had my hand up your skirt instead of under your belt, it would've been just another Friday night for everybody"
Gerard looks away, feeling his face heat. "But I'm not. And you knew that before you started fucking with my hair. You saw them staring before you kissed me."
Frank wipes his hands on the front of his hoodie, “I wanted to anyway," he says simply, "Shouldn't matter."
Gerard swallows. His palms are sweaty. He laughs, a little more than embarrassed. "Well. Thanks, you know. For defending my honor or whatever."
Frank snorts. "I see you on your back making that stupid little face with words that barely sound like English, dude. You got no honor to defend. I just don't like people being dicks to my..." He hesitates, then says too fast, "Friend."
Friend.
Friends don't kiss the way Frank kisses.
Friends don't share jeans pulled from the floor after a night tangled up in each other.
Gerard shifts, "You can't just go around punching everyone who has a problem with it," he mutters.
Frank deadpans, "Why not- they do? You know what they do to guys that do what we do? Why cant I get even?"
Gerard laughs despite himself, "Because your hands'll hurt too much for what I want to do to thank you." Frank flexes his fingers, blood flicking onto the mirror.
He steps in close, crowding Gerard against the sink the way he does in the mornings, breath warm against his mouth. "What're you gonna do if I don't stop? " Frank asks.
Gerard smirks, the edges of him tipping reckless. "Nothing. I like it. I just... I think you should give them a chance. You know. A warning. Like baseball."
Frank quirks a brow. "Three strikes?"
Gerard nods. "Yeah. That way I know you're not just using me for an excuse to play tooth fairy.." Frank grins, wolfish.
"You get me bloody and laid without the punching," he says, amused. "But okay. Three strikes."
"Thanks," Gerard breathes. There's no one else in the bathroom. No one watching. So he does it first-He kisses him. It's his choice this time.
Soft, almost shy, but real.
Frank's face tingles from it. He nudges Gerard's shoulder, muttering, "Don't be such a pansy about it."
Still, he lets his eyes roam—slow, deliberate—the way Gerard's jeans fit now, not ripped at the knees for once, not dirty. He looks...clean. Good. Good enough that Frank doesn't feel guilty about what he’s about to ask for.
"You wanna go back to my place?"
"Why? So you can take out the rest of your mood on me,"
Frank laughs, pulling him out of the bathroom, "I'll be nice- I swear."
Gerard raises an eyebrow but follows him anyway- Frank holds his hand on the way out.
Apparently the american way to dance blues is much different from what they teach you in the czech voluntarily mandatory ballroom dancing classes? I only know that, though, so...
Here’s the song, amazingly sung by The King
May I Have This Dance? - 1K
You would never have guessed how many things were stored in the small rectory. When Father Paul asked you to help him sort through Monsignor Pruitt's things you were obviously more than willing to help. The old priest would be staying on the mainland in a nursing facility and so Paul wanted to move some of his things there to make him feel more at home. When citizens of Crockett Island learned that they wouldn't be getting their Monsignor back some of them decided to visit him in his new home. One of them was Bev, obviously, but then there were Annie and Ed, Erin and also the Scraboroughs. Leeza was very excited to visit the old priest, as she hoped he would remember her and see that she didn't need her wheelchair anymore. You actually saw the family come back on the Belle, all of them had puffy eyes and big smiles on their faces. He remembered.
Now though, you sat cross-legged in the rectory living area going through a box after box Father Paul produced from god knows where. There were trinkets, old postcards and newspapers. You put some of the more touching cards to the side, surely Monsignor Pruitt would like to read them to remind himself that he was very much loved. And then something caught your eye. On the very bottom of the box were some stiff pieces of paper - and on closer inspection you found out they were actually cases of LP records. "Hey!" you called out to Paul who also was elbow deep in another box. "Wouldn't take the Monsignor for an Elvis fan!" You waved the record above your head. Father Paul just smiled at you and carried on with his work.
On the cover there was a list of songs the record contained. You were delighted to find one of them was 'You don't have to say you love me'. Immediately you started to look for a record player with your eyes, and after a while, you finally spotted it. It was sitting on a low shelf in the rectory study area.
You checked the electronics out - it was an older model, the cover was a bit dusty, but after you plugged it in you saw that the turntable was spinning. "Paul," you called over your shoulder. There were footsteps behind you: "What is it?" he asked, crouching down beside you. You grinned at him and took his hand without thinking: "Dance with me, please?" The priest looked at you strangely for a bit: "what, really?" "Yes! Please, I love this song!" You tried your best puppy eyes at him, hoping he would take mercy on you. He had the audacity to actually throw his head back and chuckle: "Okay. But, well, I have no idea how to dance." Your eyes shone as you took a hold of his hand, stood up, and pulled him up with you. "That's absolutely fine, this is very simple-" You immediately got to explaining to the priest how to move into the rhythm, when to walk and when to spin you and, after you were satisfied with his understanding, you put the record onto the turntable and gently put the needle on it.
When you put his right hand onto your waist and took hold of his other hand he seemed to be blushing a bit.
When I said, I needed you
You said you would always stay
You started the basic move and he followed, looking at his feet, trying to match the rhythm and remember what you taught him while avoiding stepping on your toes.
It wasn't me who changed, but you
And now you've gone away.
Don't you see that now you're gone
And I'm left here on my own
Then I have to follow you
And beg you to come home.
He was getting better at this. Father Paul actually stopped looking at his feet and moved to gaze into your eyes, moving slowly and rhythmically. He span you when he was supposed to spin you and he did so quite gracefully. It was your turn to blush, as his eyes were so intense, you felt your legs tremble a little bit. You failed to notice that he was rather closer to you than he was when you began dancing.
You don't have to say you love me
Just be close at hand
You don't have to stay forever
I will understand
He truly was leading now, leading you and spinning you and you couldn't help but submit to him while letting yourself get lost in the music. The song was beautiful, and Presley's voice was beautiful, and your dance partner was absolutely breathtakingly beautiful. "I can't believe you haven't done this before," you said after he actually improvised some move, spinning you into the other direction and twice as fast. He only smiled softly and kept dancing.
Believe me, believe me,
I can't help but love you,
But believe me,
I'll never tie you down.
Feeling nearly faint you held onto him, by now you were so close your bodies were almost touching. God, you wanted to kiss him, he was looking at you like you were the most amazing person in the world and your gaze fell onto his perfect cupid's bow. You leaned into each other even more and were now flush against one another. You could feel every move he made before he made it, and he was solid and warm, and his right arm was wrapped around your waist holding you tights. He foregone the spinning part some time ago, choosing to sway you softly instead.
Right as you were sure you were actually going to kiss him though,
Left alone with just a- just a- just a- just a-
"Oh," you sighed softly, not yet quite back on earth, "it's busted." Now Father Paul and you were standing still, yet holding onto each other, impossibly close. Against your chest you felt the rapid thumping of both of your hearts. Looking into his eyes again, you saw such softness and fondness it could have made you cry. He was smiling now, his hold of you tightening a bit, this was no longer a dancing stance, he was embracing you.
"I'll get us a new one."
Thank you for reading and thank you @fatherpaulsimp again for requesting. You can read this story and the entire collection on AO3. I adore feedback.
Summary: Spencer figures out that Aria's relationship has turned abusive and starts trying to help her (First person)
Tw: domestic violence,physical abuse, mild description of gore (anything else that can be applied to the show lol)
I see the bruise, I see the truth
I see what he's been doin' to you
Blood on the shoes, what's his excuse?
He say he doin' some new kung fu
You always use his bullshit excuse
But I see what he's been doin' to you
There was no point in trying to hide it anymore. No matter how many different techniques I knew about makeup, this was still there. Raw, fresh, and now very irritated. It was getting harder to hide this and I couldn’t do it anymore. So why can’t I leave? Why am I at my job so early in the morning when I know he’ll lose his shit on me when I get home for not being there. I tried my best, but I settled for a bandage instead. I can just make something up. I’m already accident prone. I start on some paperwork, trying to take my mind off things.
I technically wouldn’t have any issues leaving. Think about it realistically. I literally work in a department to help these kinds of situations. It would be so easy to just tell Hotch or Rossi and go into witness protection. I could stop my checks so he wouldn’t be able to use my card. I wouldn’t have a home… My mother won’t take me back; she loves him more than me.
My thoughts are interrupted when I hear Spencer setting a cup of coffee down next to me.
“Hey… Donovan… what happened?” I shook my head at him.
“I burned it with a straightener.” No. You were so close to telling him that bastard put his cigarette out on your face. About how he… No. Not now if Spencer’s here it means everyone else will be.
When everyone got there and Hotch pulled everyone in for briefing I breathed a sigh of relief. It was a case, all the way in Colorado. I sat and listened to anyone, but had nothing to offer, opting to just take notes instead. I called him on the way to the plane, knowing he wouldn’t answer.
“Please leave a message after the tone”
“Hey, Kev. It’s me um. Our case is out of state so I’m going to be gone for a few days. Reception might be spotty but I…” I choked a little. “I will call to check in when I can.” I hung up and turned my phone off as we pulled up to the jet. I felt Spencer’s eyes on me, but I couldn’t dare meet them. I just took my usual seat in the back corner, tucking myself against the window. Even if this was only for a couple days it could really give me the break I need. Maybe that’s what we both need. He’s much nicer after I’ve been gone for a while. It reminds me of the first couple years we were together. Back when he still called me pet names like, sugar or bunny. I shut my eyes, trying to get some rest. Everything would be fine.
Spencer set his things down, in his usual seat next to Aria, and moved to sit with the group at the table.
“So is anyone else going to acknowledge it too?” His voice was quiet and everyone else had solemn expressions on their faces.
“Look… as much as I want to do something, you know as well as I do that getting involved before she’s ready could be even more dangerous.” Rossi’s voice was quiet, anger lacing his words.
“We’re going back to her hometown. Her mother is there, we could-” Derek cut him off.
“Reid. This is a part of keeping her safe. We can’t corner her like that; she'll associate it with whatever he’s doing at home and slip into a trauma response.” Emily stayed silently, Looking over at her, sleeping and tucked away under Spencer’s cardigan.
Hotch had been in the opposite corner, watching the team. “We do have a ‘No Profiling’ rule on each other.” Spencer’s face fell, guilt ridden in his eyes. “But we can bend the rules a little. Her behavior has indicated it’s only getting worse. It’s a matter of time before he snaps and kills her.” Hotch knew the severity of the situation all too well. Derek had seen his sister go through that and now he was seeing another sister hide it.
“It would be best if Garcia approached her about it.” Everyone looked over at Emily, who had been quiet until now. “The two of them are close and she’s the only one out of us who's actually spent time around him.” She was trying to sound rational, but she knew Penelope had a tenderness they didn’t quite understand.
I felt a warm hand on my shoulder, and opened my eyes to see Reid’s dark red cardigan on me, his touch gentle.
“Hey we landed.” He grabs my bag, along with his, and gets off the plane with everyone else.
I got off and slid into the passenger seat of the car Hotch was driving, Spencer climbing into the seat behind him, he had such a cute clueless expression on his face. Poor thing never really liked change.
“Hotch, I need a favor to ask of you.” I kept my voice low, but I knew Spencer and Derek would hear it anyway. Hotch titled his ear towards me, the silent indicator that he was listening. “Since we’ll be in town, I’d like to take a couple hours for some personal business.” He nodded knowingly, like he always does.
Fight for me
We can leave, I'm beggin'
Please, on my, on my knees
Go to Hawaii
Fight for me
Said we can leave, I'm beggin'
Please, on my, on my knees
Hawa-hawaii
“That’s okay. But I want your head in case at all working times.” You nodded, and settled in for the long car ride from the airport to Granby Ranch.
I did attempt to call Kevin when we arrived, but the cell service had always been awful out here.
When we pulled up to the ranch, the first thing I noticed was the sculpture at the entrance had been damaged. We got out of the Jeep and Hotch went directly to talk to the County police. I stepped towards the crime scene, taking a look at everything. Right in the edge of the woods. Man this was getting creepy. A voice behind me registers as Spencer’s but my mind is racing. There was blood everywhere. The trees were lined, reaching as high as 6 feet. I step further, slipping on a pair of gloves before I stop dead in my tracks.
“Hey… Um… did they miss a body in the initial report?” It was like a bad car crash. I couldn’t look away from her mangled body. This was definitely not a wild animal. I doubt any Elk or bear could make a clean cut like that. The world started spinning the longer I stared and just as I was expecting to hit the hard ground I felt something soft and warm.
You got balloons
New flowers too
Last one's dyin' in your bedroom
He's squeezin' you
Blame-blaming you
Mama just usin' her red perfume
“Donovan. Hey, hey you have to wake up.” Spencer's voice is warm above me, nurturing almost. It doesn’t take long for my ears to ring and for my hearing to drop.
When I’m fully conscious, there’s a bright light in my eye. I blink slowly, trying to shield my face.
“Oh Aria, thank god.” Rossi is above me, putting the flashlight away, and I feel a warm hand on my cheek. I tilt my eyes and realize I’m in Spencer’s lap, furiously blushing. “Do you know where you are right now?” Spencer’s voice is soft above me and I wrack my memory. The second I close my eyes I’m looking at that poor woman’s dismembered head again and I stifle a scream. “Hey, hey take it easy. You need to move slowly.” Spencer’s hand on my shoulder is a warm reminder. I’m okay. Rossi and Spencer slowly helped me up. Hotch sent Spencer, Derek, and I to the police station in Frasier, where they had set up shop. With me driving, we pulled up in 15 minutes. Granted, they both were pale, but they weren’t dead.
Eventually we started piecing everything together. It was 8 pm when Kevin called me.
I answered, putting him on speaker so I could continue working. “Hey Kev.”
“Don’t fucking Hey Kev me. Where are you?” I was really glad Derek and Spencer had left the room.
“I called you earlier before we left but it went to voicemail. Did you not get my message?”
“You know what I’m fucking asking you. Don’t be a bitch to me.”
“I’m in Wyoming in the mountains.” Lie. Don’t give yourself away. “Kevin, I have work to do.”
“Fine but don’t expect anything from me when you get back. Lying bitch.” He spit the words at me like venom before the line clicked off. I closed my phone. Whatever God or Gods existed in this universe surely wouldn’t let me stay like this… but it had been 3 years now. I had to do it myself. I couldn’t rely on anyone else.
Domestic bliss
I know how bad you wanted it
Why'd you put up with that shit?
Why'd you go back for that kiss?
Maybe it tastes like him
When you got tears in your lips
Why'd you put up with that shit?
Why don't we pack and leave this?
Why do you smile when he cries?
Why do you cry when he wins?
“Aria?” Spencer’s face had fallen. I didn’t realize I was crying. “Hey… is everything okay?” He slid into the seat next to me, his hand on my knee. I shook my head, and just leaned into him. “I’m here for you. You know that right? You’re not alone.” I didn’t say anything, just letting myself sink further.
“I don’t think you’re much help like this Donovan.” Derek put his hand on my shoulder. “Why don’t you and Reid go get checked in. I’m sure everyone will follow shortly.” I nodded, walking out of the station with Spencer, and climbing into the passenger seat of the SUV, letting him take the helm. I closed my eyes and rested against the window of the door.
I think I vaguely remember him getting a bag of food on the way, but I couldn’t pay attention. There was too much going on. Spencer woke me up gently, letting me get my bearings before heading inside.
“Here’s your room keys. You’ll both be in 117.” My jaw almost fell to the floor. Crap there was no way this would end out okay. He’s gonna find out and he’ll get hurt trying to help me.
Spencer thanked her, and we went to our room, The door clicking softly behind us.
“Aria… I need to talk to you.” I sat on one of the beds, staking my claim, taking my shoes off. “I know Kevin is abusing you.” I stared at him for a minute, unblinking. His voice was soft, and he knelt in front of me, wiping away the tears that came. “I need to know how to help you. Please. I can’t see you like this anymore.” The floodgates opened and I threw myself around him, his hands lacing into my hair.
“Please… Don’t make me go back. I can’t do it anymore.” I feel his hand push down my sweater, the various bruises and scabs littered my collarbone and his face fell.
Fight for me
We can leave, I'm beggin'
Please, on my, on my knees
Go to Hawaii
Fight for me
Said we can leave, I'm beggin'
Please, on my, on my knees
Hawa-hawaii
“Aria… I’m going to kill him.” I’ve never seen him this upset. “He won’t get away with hurting the person I love like this.” He met my eyes realizing he said that out loud.
“Spencer…” He pulled me into him for a kiss, sweet and tender just like him. “I love you too…”
Spencer’s hands never left me, pulling me into bed with him, pulling me close. He littered my back and shoulder with kisses, being extra careful around my bruises.
The next morning we wrapped up the profile, my phone staying off. Spencer never left my side.
It took another day or two to catch the guy. He’d been dating all the victims and playing them off of each other. I hated that I drew the comparisons to Kevin, and now that the case was over, I had to face him again…
Spencer and I packed our hotel room, and he agreed to come with me to see my mom
I knocked on the door, and he squeezed my hand quickly, letting go as the door opened.
“Hi mom.”
“Oh baby hi. What are you doing here? Where’s that sweet Kevin.”
“Actually, that’s why I’m here. Can I come inside?” She stepped aside to let us through, pulling out the coffee mugs and pouring us both a cup from the freshly made pot.
“What’s going on honeybee?” She leaned back in her chair, sipping her coffee.
“I don’t know how to tell you this so I figured I’d just show you.” I shrugged my jacket off for the first time in days around someone, the bruises covering almost every surface of my arms and shoulders, various scabbing in areas.
“Oh honey. I told you you need to quit this job. You’re hurting yourself.” I tried not to sound too annoyed.
“No ma. It’s Kevin… He’s been abusing me for 3 years now.” Her eyes widened.
“Aria you will not lie in this house.”
“Ma’am it’s not a lie.” Spencer spoke to her, not even introducing himself. “If you heard the things he says to her over the phone, you would know she isn’t lying.”
“You both need to leave.” Mom stood up and snatched the mugs away retreating to the kitchen. “You’re a disgrace.” I sighed, and grabbed Spencer’s hand, walking to the door.
“I guess that makes two of us. Have a good life mom. I hope you’re not so lonely with Kevin in it.” I closed the door without another word, basically running with Spencer to the SUV.
My God, I'll be right in
A trickle of lighting
I knew before I heard
I felt in my skin
My God, I'll be right in
A trickle of lighting
I knew before I heard
I felt in my skin
The phone call with Penelope was rough. She was crying more than I was, but within minutes she confirmed there was now a protection order in place, and that the police were detaining him for the night so I could gather my things.
“You can stay with me.” Spencer’s hand was soft on mine, and I nodded, falling asleep on his shoulder on the jet ride home. All of the guys insisted on coming with me to my old apartment, on the off chance he was still there, so as soon as we finished the last bit of paperwork, Rossi, Hotch, and Derek all followed me over. It was quiet when we entered, my cat trotting over, meowing at me.
“Looks like he trashed the place before they took him.” Derek flipped over a cracked photo frame, and Spencer picked up the black fluffy void, her purring as loud as a lawn mower. Rossi helped me pack my clothes in a bag, and Hotch grabbed various things of mine from the shelf for a box, everything he deemed important, while Derek stole all the batteries out of the electronics, and took all the food and alcohol out of the cabinets, leaving behind only sugar, flour, and ketchup.
Spencer helped me gather the cat’s things and helped me take them to the car. When we got back up I heard Kevin shouting. Spencer pushed me behind him walking into the living room.
“You have no right to be packing her things. She can’t leave me, I'm the only one she has left.”
“Obviously that’s a lie.” Spencer’s comment made everyone stop and stare at him. “She has 4 people who are here to clearly collect her things and protect her from you. Where is your support Kev?” I never heard him speak like that, my hands were gripping his cardigan so tightly my knuckles were white. Rossi and Hotch pushed past him with the last of my boxes, Rossi taking me by the hand and leading me out.
Spencer turned and Derek put the final nail in the coffin, knocking a photo off the wall, while making eye contact with him.
He didn’t try to come after me. He didn’t acknowledge my existence, and he let me leave.
The guys dropped everything off at Spencer’s with me, Birdie immediately making herself at home on his sofa, her face buried in her long black fur.
Jordan’s Choice for Starker Song Sunday: Woman of the Hour by Stela Cole
After Tony and Peter's world-crushing break up, the world had expected for Peter Parker to slowly disappear out of the celebrity world. Except they had forgotten that Peter doesn't lower his head; ever. So everyone is surpised when the next week's headlines are of the sight of him and one Harry Osborn. Together. And well was anyone really surprised when the headlines for the next day were, "Stark and Parker Back Together!"
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Hood/Arsenal (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Roy Harper/Jason Todd
Characters: Roy Harper, Jason Todd, Batfamily Members
Additional Tags: Holiday time, Christmas Shopping, gift shopping, Family, Holidays, Songfic, Holiday Songs, a light sprinkle of Angst, It's Jason what do you expect
Series: Part 2 of Jayroy Holiday Song Fics
Summary:
The duo had been wandering around Gotham for hours now, doing the very holiday activity that Jason dreaded: Gift Shopping.
//Tag along with Jason and Roy as they try to take on the holidays, one bat-sibling gift at a time...//
Prompt: Dean has a nightmare, and you end up singing him to sleep.
Word Count: 1,214
Fandom: SPN
Note: I got this idea at 2 AM while going on a TOP binge
Your mind slowly woke itself up, against its own will. It forced your eyelids open, no matter how much you wanted them closed. You looked around for the source of what startled your brain awake, only to find out that it was Dean. You groggily stared at him for a moment before realizing what it was. Dean was having one of his nightmares again. As common as it was for him, it still worried you every time it happened.
Your brain felt like it was going through mud, slowly processing everything. Once your brain fully realized what was going on, it sprung into action. You gently started shaking him awake, it usually worked. This time, it seemed as though the nightmare was worse than normal. Like when you get to the Boss Battle at the end of a level, except in a dream state. Your eyebrows furrowed together before you sat up a bit more, scooting closer to him.
“Dean, babe, wake up.” You said, voice still soft and groggy.
“Dean, wake up.” You said again, this time louder than before.
“Dean!” You quietly yelled, not wanting to wake up the other person in the room.
When that didn’t work, your brain decided to resort to the last thing it could think of. Which resulted in you crawling on him, straddling his chest, and slapping him with just enough force to wake him up. He jolted awake, your body being the only thing preventing him from fully sitting up. He looked very clearly confused for a moment, and calmed down once your hand found its way to his cheek. He sighed before rubbing his eyes then looking up at you.
Your eyebrows furrowed together, fear still very evident on his face. You could tell that this was going to be one that he definitely did not want to talk about. You didn’t quite know what his nightmare had been about, but you weren’t going to force him to say anything to you. Though, you did wish that there was something you could do to stop these damn things, but there wasn’t anything. All you could do was be there when he needed you, and that’s exactly what you intended to do.
“Babe, you alright?” You questioned, and he nodded.
“Uh, yeah, yeah, I’m good.” He lied.
“Did you want to talk about it?” You offered, already knowing the answer.
“No, no, I’m good,” He denied, “Don’t worry about it.”
“Let me go get you some water.” You said, beginning to get up before he grabbed your wrist.
“No!” He paused, “No, I’m good. Can you just lay with me?” He asked.
“Of course, anything you need.” You agreed.
Your back rested against the headboard, pillows providing your back a bit of comfort. Dean’s head rested on your stomach, your hand gently playing with his hair. After a moment, he appeared to have calmed down, but you knew better than to assume that. You also knew that if you pushed him to tell you something, it’d do the opposite. One of his hands held your other one, with a comfortable silence filling the air.
After a moment he began to speak, which surprised your greatly. Usually when the nightmares are that bad, he doesn’t speak of it. He’d eventually drift off back to sleep, and then apologize for waking you up in the morning. Apparently this dream had to do with you dying, which has been a frequent event in his dreams lately. He didn’t give out any other information than that. You kissed the top of his head, since that was the only part of him you could get to without inconveniencing the both of you.
“Well, it’ll take a lot more than a creature of Hell to send my stubborn ass to the grave.” You joked and you felt him smile a little.
“Yeah...” He trailed off, obviously holding back from saying something else.
“You should go back to sleep, you need the rest.” You urged.
“I don’t want to dream that again, or lose you.” He confessed a little.
“Well, I’m not going anywhere.” You reassured.
“I’ll go back to sleep on one condition.” He bargained.
“And what’s that?” You questioned.
“Sing for me?” He asked.
“I’m terrible, besides, what song would I even sing anyway?” He began making up excuses.
“I dunno,” He shrugged, “But you’ve sang to be once before.”
You sighed, staying silent for a moment before agreeing to it. If it would help him sleep, then you decided that were more than willing to do it. You took a deep breath, trying to think of a song to sing to him. You decided on the one you sang to him before, House Of Gold by Twenty One Pilots. Of course, instead of screaming that one part, you’d still be singing softly. You tapped a beat with one of your fingers for a moment before beginning to sing.
“She asked me, ‘Son, when I grow old, will you buy me a house of gold? And when your father turns to stone, will you take care of me?’”
Your mother had sung you a song with a similar beat when you were younger, which is why you liked this song so much. Well, one of the reasons, anyway. You continued the song as you brought your mind closer to it’s thoughts. Your mother had died some time ago on a hunt, a fate that was ever present for hunters. While she wasn’t exactly the best mother in the world, she wasn’t the worst either.
“Let's say we up and left this town, and turned our future upside down. We'll make pretend that you and me, lived ever after happily.”
Most of the hunters you knew or grew up with always ended up dying on a hunt. That was one of the reasons why you were so reluctant to get close to either of them. Dean was the one that changed your mind, and manged to wiggle his way into your heart. So, with the two of them, your guard was always down. While Dean could start the most ridiculous fights some times, neither of them had ever done anything to hurt you.
“And since we know that dreams are dead, and life turns plans up on their head; I will plan to be a bum, so I just might become someone.”
You could feel his breathing slow, and you could tell he had fallen asleep. You were glad, he’d hardly gotten any sleep between his nightmares and you were beginning to get worried. You just hoped he wouldn’t have any more of those, at least not tonight. You wiggled yourself a little lower so that you were fully on the bed, and not propped up against the headboard. Now, Dean’s head rested on your chest instead of your stomach.
“I will make you queen of everything you see, I'll put you on the map, I'll cure you of disease.”
You studied Dean for a moment after you finished singing the song. You were making sure that he was okay before you went back to sleep yourself. After you were sure that he was alright, you closed your own eyes. The idea of sleep luring your mind into it’s dream state.
Song fic based on Lucky by Jason Mraz. https://youtu.be/acvIVA9-FMQ
"I'm lucky to be in love with my best friend" is literally one of lines in the song.
