Rating: T (can anything with Mason be less than T?)
Warnings: None
My contribution to @wayhavenficexchange for @ejunkiet - just a little bit of fluff set after the main events of Book 3 but before th MC goes back to their apartment. I hope you like it!
Now with AO3 link!
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He remembers when he didn’t stay. And more, before that, he remembers when he didn’t care at all, when Wayhaven was just another mission – another too-loud, too-bright spot on a map, ripe with humanity, to be endured and then escaped like one of the tactical seminars Adam always insists they attend. Looking back at those first days, it’s hard to see the slow, inching change in him, the pull in his chest that led him to the sanctuary of having Olivia sleeping at his side. Her heartbeat is steady, her breath a roll of slow, even waves that ruffle his hair where it lies against his collarbone.
He doesn’t mind the sensation. In fact, he’s lulled by the reassurance of the motion, the measured swell of her ribcage with every inhale. She’s alive. Defiant but impossibly outnumbered, the image of her on the auction house stage is something he can’t get out of his head, and with it lingers the rage that welled within him, white hot and sharp as teeth, at the sight of all those covetous bastards in the room shouting over each other for her blood.
Birds are singing outside the window, the dawn chorus in full throat. So far out into the wilderness it’s deafening, and though he prefers it to the roar of car engines on the morning commute, the sheer vastness of the sound normally has him chaining cigarettes until the little fuckers decide they’ve had enough of screaming at each other for the day.
And he didn’t notice it.
Now he has, the tumble of song fills his ears, but not to the usual point of pain, and with the rhythm of Olivia’s pulse undercutting it, it’s even almost… tolerable. He can pick out threads in the tapestry to appreciate their melody. The realisation brings a frown to his features, and he turns further into her embrace, unsettled.
There’s been a growing awareness of the calming effect she has on his senses, but along with all the other changes in his moods – he ran out of cigarettes a week ago, he stayed to not disturb her sleep, and they didn’t even fuck first – this sudden burst of understanding reminds him too much of other things. In the past, his memory barriers have slipped, and every time the first early warning signs were always altered behaviour and senses blurring into confusion. This doesn’t feel exactly the same, but then there’s no other name for the tightness in his chest when he looks down at Olivia, either.
His movement has disturbed her. As she shifts, a moan rises from her throat and a fleeting smile touches his lips. Over the past few months he’s learned various ways to draw that sound from her, but this morning he has no interest in such exertion. He brushes his lips over her forehead instead.
“Sleep, sweetheart.” She’s had a rough few days, between the debrief over the auction and the slew of new training she’s been drafted into for her promotion to full agent. “I’ve got you.”
“What time is it?” she mumbles.
“Early.”
He turns slightly to better pick up the change in her heartrate, the barest quickening of her breath that he doubts anyone else would notice. That he does has ceased to be a surprise.
“Tell me what you’re thinking?” he asks, stroking a hand over her back.
There’s a small inhale, fingers twisting in the sheets. “You stayed again.”
At one time he didn’t – wouldn’t have considered it. He covers with a lazy smile.
“Would you rather I hadn’t?”
“More like I’m scared I’ll get used to it,” she admits.
Inside his ribcage, his heart clenches at the loneliness laid bare in those words, so strong that for a moment instead of a reply all he can muster is a phantom yearning for tobacco.
“I might get used to it myself,” he replies, once the moment has passed.
She sits up, eyes him warily. For an instant, struck by the tangles her hair has gained in sleep, he’s tempted to pull her into his lap and see how much wilder he can make it, but while he shifts against the pillow he doesn’t act on the impulse, only waits for her to decide if they’re going to talk about this uncertain, dangerous thing between them.
She breaks his gaze. “What about when my apartment is fixed?”
He hasn’t been thinking about it. He lives in the moment, because in his experience moments are all you get.
“What about it?”
“Never mind.” A fleeting smile. “It’ll feel weird going back after spending so much time here.”
Silence falls between them as she turns towards the window, the dawn light plenty for his vampire eyes to pick out fine details as it catches against dark eyelashes and the tempting curve of her lips. Who says she has to go? He never has the inclination to stay and he doesn’t ask others to stay either, but he’s used to her, to the calming if unexplainable effect she has on his senses. Instead of letting the words slip unguarded off his tongue, however, he focuses back on his observations, on the tremor in her heart that tells him as much about her mood as her half-turned away expression.
“If there’s something you want to say, sweetheart, I’m right here.”
“Hm?” She blinks. “Oh, no – it’s nothing. Just thinking.”
Lie.
He smooths a hand down her spine, under her pyjama top, her skin no more than a tingle against his fingertips.
“I don’t think there’s time for that, sunshine,” she chides gently. “Not with everything Adam has planned for me today.”
“Pity. But I wasn’t thinking about that.”
One dark eyebrow lifts. “Who are you and what have you done with Mason?”
I can think of other things, you know.” He smirks. “It’s just more fun not to most of the time.”
With a fond sigh and a roll of her eyes, she wriggles towards the side of the bed, only halting when he brushes a hand over her wrist.
“We don’t have to get up yet.”
“You want to cuddle?”
He manages to make his shrug look casual. “If you want to call it that.”
There’s another moment of wary scrutiny, but his open arm is an invitation she chooses to accept, and he catches her smile as she snuggles down with him once again. As her weight settles against his chest, right where she should be, he allows the contentment to escape in a sigh. He remembers when he didn’t stay, and this is much better.
Relationships: Nat Sewell x F!Detective (@stolenoc's Rory Kingston)
Word Count: 2,267
For the @wayhavenficexchange. This was a really fun challenge and I hope I did Rory justice! Click the title for AO3 link.
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Nat has spent centuries admiring poetic words about broken hearts, only to find them wanting when she needs them most. Her heart is not merely broken. It is shredded , and every day without finding Aurora, every mission where Unit Bravo finds her blood instead of her, rips away another piece of it.
Weeks have passed since Rory was taken from Nat— from all of them. There was no warning before it happened, no confrontation or suspicious sightings. One morning Nat kissed her beloved goodbye before she went to work, and she never came back.
The team found Rory’s apartment in a state of disarray and the air laden heavily with magic, but little else to help direct their search. The first few days after Rory’s disappearance were spent combing every inch of the town and the surrounding area outside of it. The Agency even sent in Unit Alpha to assist, tracking being one of their specialties.
Nat’s vivid imagination has gotten her through plenty of hardships in her past, but she curses it now. Visions of Rory calling out for Nat, needing her, as she is ripped from her apartment plague Nat. How frightened must she have been?
“She’ll produce more blood alive than dead,” Morgan offered as a comfort to Nat who, at the time, was on her knees in the middle of Rory’s apartment, refusing to leave until they found something . Unfortunately, they all know from experience that ‘alive’ does not mean ‘well’. As long as their product is breathing, that will be enough for her captors. In fact, it’s probably safer for them to break her mind than her body.
Nat forces herself to bury those thoughts every time they bubble up to the surface. They won’t help her find Rory, and Rory has to be alive. There is no other option. It has only been a few months, but already she cannot imagine a life without her.
A firm, solid hand lands on Nat’s shoulder, drawing her attention away from the pile of recent mission and patrol logs she has been poring over all day. Nat forces a small smile on her face as she turns to look at Ava, but she doesn’t get the chance to speak.
“We have a lead.”
Far Outside of Wayhaven
The dilapidated brick building looms behind Unit Bravo. At one point, decades ago, it had been a hospital. Now the building looks as though it doesn’t belong among the sprawling untamed field that has sprouted up around it.
“Commanding Agent Du Mortain?” Lesedi’s voice filters through over the radio.
“Copy.”
“Two suspects have fled the building on foot. One unit should pursue the suspects and the other should search the building.” Lesedi pauses, allowing the situation to sink in. “Who do you want to pursue?”
For a moment, there is conflict on Ava’s face as she considers the information provided, but it passes quickly. “Agreed. Unit Bravo will search the area. Unit Alpha can pursue the suspects,” Ava doles out tasks.
They are all exhausted, having spent weeks chasing down lead after lead, most of them dead ends. The situation only worsened once Rory’s blood hit the supernatural black market. The Agency needed their top teams (and the one most experienced with the detective’s blood) to help handle the outbreaks of massively powerful supernaturals.
None of them are at their best right now, but Nat has not slept in…she tries to remember the last time she got real sleep. More than just falling asleep for a few minutes on accident. Three weeks? Her healing abilities can only compensate for so much.
All eyes turn to Nat, whose eyes glisten with unshed tears.
“Thank you, Ava,” she says. Ava nods stiffly to Nat and then gestures to the building. The team launches into action.
Inside the Abandoned Hospital
Nat can smell Aurora’s blood in the distance, and she turns to the rest of the team to confirm that they too can smell it, that her mind has not taken to trying to appease her with hallucinations.
They are already looking back at her. The smell is strongest from the lower levels, but most of Unit Bravo know better than to get their hopes up now. Not Nat, though. Somehow, even after so many times, the scent of Aurora’s blood has hope swelling in Nat’s chest.
“According to our intelligence, the building has five levels including one below ground,” Ava begins. “We will clear the first floor together and then split up to cover the remaining levels. Nat, you will take the lower level. Farah, clear the top level and the stairwells. Morgan gets the third.”
As expected, the first floor is empty. The area is fairly open, a bad place for anyone to hide. Most likely it was a lobby and waiting area in the hospital’s heyday. Nat wastes no time, sprinting down the cracking concrete stairwell to reach the building’s basement. There are no windows, just sprawling hallways of rusted metal doors and cracking paint.
“Rory! Are you down here?” Nat calls out. There’s no answer, but she doesn’t truly expect one. Soon though, the sound of a rapid fluttering heartbeat comes into focus.
She recognizes it instantly. Aurora.
“She’s down here!” Nat shouts into the radio. There’s a response, but the words don’t register for Nat. She is much too busy pulling at the handle of one particular door with additional shiny silver locks, clearly out of place among the older hardware on all the other doors.“Rory!?”
The doorway breaks before the door, leaving behind splintered wood and plaster. At one point the small padded room behind the door may have been white, but age and lack of maintenance have turned the cushions a dingy beige color.
“Ya rouhi,” Nat gasps the endearment with equal measures of relief and horror. Ava is the first to make it down to Nat, and promptly takes the door from her hands, propping it up against the wall of the hallway. Morgan and Farah follow shortly after. Morgan gives the team leader a short nod, and Farah flashes a thumbs up, confirming the building is clear of any threats.
Rory is curled up in the corner, alive, wide-eyed with shock from the loud noises, and in one piece. That is the good news. The bad news is just about everything else.
Her wrists are red and swollen from the handcuffs she has on, a sharp contrast against her unusually pallid skin. Her breaths come short and shallow, and her expression is distant and weak. She’s lost weight. A few inches of medical tubing stick out of her arm, the ends covered by small plastic caps. Despite all of that, Rory’s expression lights up when she sees Nat, making warm affection bloom in Nat’s chest.
In a flash of motion, Nat crosses the room to kneel at Rory’s side one hand cupping her cheek reverently.
“Nat?” She asks, voice hoarse from disuse. Then she shifts a little to get a better view through the doorway. The movement is sluggish, but it doesn’t seem to cause her pain at least. “Ava? Is everyone here?”
“All here and ready to rescue you!” Farah pokes her head around the now crumbling doorway, a relieved grin on her face.
“It’s us,” Nat speaks softly, as though to a frightened animal. Rory isn’t well, of course, but Nat cannot find any injuries beyond the superficial wounds on her wrist and some bruising. “We’re getting you out of here. Can you walk?”
“I think so,” Rory says, shifting her weight to stand only to wobble unsteadily. Strong, toned arms reach out to stabilize her.
“Is it alright if I carry you?” Nat asks, doing her best to keep her voice from cracking. Rory’s gaze is hazy and unfocused, and she has to pause in order to process the question.
“Yeah,” she croaks. The word hardly gets out before Nat has her scooped up into a bridal-style carry. Morgan grabs Farah by the back of the shirt, yanking her out of the way of the doorway, while Ava advises Agent Kingston of their status. She will handle coordinating the medics.
Nat is grateful for the rest of the team, because she isn’t sure she could stand to leave Rory’s side though she knows she will have to eventually.
A Few Hours Later, At the Agency Facility
Nat shoves her hands into her pockets for what feels like the hundredth time. Her and Rebecca both stand outside of the infirmary, anxiously awaiting news. The door behind them bursts open, and Morgan trudges in with a bag of Rory’s things slung over her shoulder.
“There’s a couple books in there,” Morgan gruffs as she pushes the bag into Nat’s hands.
“Thank you, Morgan.” Nat manages a small smile when she takes the bag. Morgan glances at the door to the infirmary and then back to Nat.
“They haven’t let you see her yet?” Morgan asks, voice tinged with a thread of concern. Nat shakes her head.
“She’s gonna be okay, Natkins,” Farah slaps a reassuring hand on Nat’s back in an effort to lighten the mood.
The door to the waiting room swings open again, much more quietly this time. Ava strides in with two facility room keys in her hand and holds them out to Rebecca and Nat.
“Get some sleep. I will keep watch over Aurora. We will notify you when she is allowed visitors,” Ava says firmly. Rebecca hesitates, but she glances to the infirmary door, and then to Nat, and eventually takes the key.
“Thank you, Agent,” Rebecca says. She leaves the room quickly, perhaps eager to get away from prying eyes. Ava’s gaze then flicks to Nat, who wilts under the stare with a heavy sigh.
“I’ll go. You don’t need to order me.” She can’t help but look back at the infirmary door as she leaves. Rory may be safe now, but is she scared? Is there any permanent damage?
In the end, she gets a couple of hours of fitful sleep before Ava comes to get her.
Inside Rory’s Recovery Room
Rory is propped up in the hospital bed. She’s cleaner, wrists sanitized and bandaged, and more alert than she was at first, but the smile she plasters on when Nat enters the room is clearly fake.
“How are you feeling?” Nat asks gently, settling into a chair by the bed and taking one of Rory’s hands in her own.
“I’m alright. They’re just keeping me overnight for observation.”
“You know that it’s okay if you’re not alright, right? It took us so long to find you…” Nat trails off, words failing her yet again, as they often do when it comes to Aurora. “I can’t imagine what they must have put you through.”
“I’m not sure it feels real yet. That I’ve been rescued,” Rory admits. Her eyes flicker over to her left arm, where the IV is inserted. Nat follows her gaze, heart clenching in her chest as she realizes the Agency medics left in whatever permanent line Rory’s captors had given her.
It was Trappers as it turns out, using stolen supernatural powers to cover their tracks. Thankfully, Unit Alpha managed to capture the entire outfit of them, including the crooked doctor they’d been using to collect Aurora’s blood. Their work isn’t done, of course, the Agency suspects they do not have all of the blood in their possession,
The Agency must have had a good reason for keeping it, but that does nothing for the haunted look in Rory’s eyes. Nat squeezes Rory’s hand gently, in an effort to draw her attention back. It works, at least for a moment, Rory turns her head back to look at Nat.
“They were able to capture everyone that was in the building,” Nat assures her, as though that means anything. As though there are not a seemingly infinite number of Trappers.
“I’m really okay, Nat. You came and got me, just like I knew you would.” Rory truly means that when she says it. There is no resentment that Unit Bravo, that Nat, was not there sooner or to prevent the kidnapping at all.
The genuine acceptance is a balm for Nat’s wounded, guilty heart. In that moment, she falls just a little bit more in love with Rory. Beautiful, wonderful, incredibly resilient Rory who looks absolutely exhausted. Of course she would be, after the day she has had.
“You should rest,” Nat urges softly, eyes flooded with concern. Rory starts to blink, but her eyes stay closed for a little longer than they should as if she’s considering the suggestion. “I can read to you if you think it might help you sleep?”
Rory nods. With her free hand, Nat reaches down and unzips the duffle bag, not quite ready to let go just yet. There are, in fact, two books right at the top, though Nat can’t help but purse her lips at the improper storage of them. One of them is unfamiliar to her, most likely something Rory had in her room, so Nat grabs that one.
“Is this one alright, rouhi?” Nat asks. She turns the book’s cover to face Rory, gripping it carefully to try and use the heat of her hands the smooth out the paperback’s rumpled corners. In answer, Rory snuggles down into the thin hospital blanket and shuts her eyes. This time, the smile that crosses Nat’s face is more genuine, and she cracks open the book.
Rory falls asleep to the warm sound of Nat’s voice chasing away her fears.
thanks to @wayhavenficexchange for organizing such a lovely event and for letting me have the opportunity to write Val and Adam goodness for the amazing @grapecaseschoices. Hope you enjoy it!
Author’s note: Hi lovely! I know my ask said kdrama au but unfortunately life had other plans and I decided to write this instead. I hope you like it because I loved writing Val, they have completely made a home in my heart. Have a great great day love, and I hope you enjoy it!
Characters do not belong to me
Warning: Fluffyyyyyy
TW: Bobby Appearance
Adam masks his discomfort with an indifferent and stoic expression as he surveys the town’s annual summer fair. The town square is decorated with the most vibrant flower arrangements, balloons and strings hanging off of every surface, high and low, and all the town’s people dressed in their best, most colourful attires. Stalls line the streets, the town's residents playing vendors and customers for the day, and cheerful conversations occuring between the town residents as they applaud and appreciate their friends' efforts. How he was cajoled into attending this loud, sense-piercing event is beyond him. He was supposed to be the very picture of infallible leadership, he was meant to be seen as a force you couldn’t just mess with, meant to be in the training room or the battlefield- didn’t matter either way because that is where he was meant to be.
Val walks up to him and hands him a scoreboard and there he realizes that despite his best efforts to be intimidating and stoic, this one person can break his walls, his resolve and whatever reservations that hold him down. He finds it frustrating, and he finds himself particularly pathetic. When Val had announced that they'd be attending the fair and also manning Tina’s water gun shooting contest stall, he’d volunteered to help watch over the detective simply because he believed Felix and Val would end up getting distracted from their tasks and really, Adam was nothing but efficient and wanted to keep an out for the detective. That was it. Picture of professionalism. Professionalism led to Adam begrudgingly agreeing to help Val set the stall as the rest of Unit Bravo went to explore or to go brood under a tree. Felix had left with a smug grin as well as an unnecessary comment about how Val had Adam wrapped around their finger, prompting Mason to say something very inappropriate that made Adam grumble, prompting a laugh from Val. His resolve, as well as the furrow settled on his brows had softened at that sound; the thought -that he’d do anything to see them smile like that, to see their beautiful blue eyes light up that way, especially if he was the reason to illicit their joy- crossed his mind and he found it slightly alarming that the thought didn’t disturb him in the slightest. In fact, he found himself looking forward to the prospect. The stall was tiny, incredibly so and he had to fight to keep his focus on setting it up as he and Val brushed hands, legs and sides whilst working. “You sure you’re ok with this? I can manage it fine by myself, and you can keep watch over there.” Val juts their chin towards the lone spot where Mason has settled, smoke curling from his cigarette. I want to be here, next to you, he thinks. “Whether I find the task favourable or not isn’t important. It is to be completed and I will do so.” Adam reassures, trying hard to ignore the warmth spreading through his chest at their concern.
“Only if you're sure.”
“I am certain. I didn’t see you happy about it either. However, it doesn't matter. I find my present company makes this duty less bothersome.” The admittance earns him a slight gape from Val before they smile that sweet smile and Adam is suddenly very glad he didn’t keep it to himself. Val clears their throat before they send a cheeky grin their way. “I’m grateful for you being here too. Never know when I’d need someone to hold me back from ‘accidentally’ ruining the Mayor’s day.”
“My role is to see to your protection, not his, so please do not depend on any refraining from my side.”
They are rudely interrupted- well not really rudely if that's what they’re meant to be doing- by people lining up in two teams of two, couples and friends alike, ready to compete against each other to fill the balloons with as much water as they can to make them pop. Adam does a fine job of keeping score as Val hands the winners their prizes awkwardly. He finds it a bit surprising that despite his imposing glare and Val’s terrible people skills, the town residents don't deter from queuing up and gossiping, not even bothering to conceal their excited whispers. Adam notices some people whispering excitedly amongst themselves and he feels his cheeks turn slightly pink as he catches …are definitely together and …made for each other. He’s about to send a disapproving glare their way when he notices Bobby looking at him with a narrowed gaze. He walks over to their stall, much to Adam’s displeasure, with a woman Adam doesn’t know of. “Hi ang-I mean Detective Montemer. I see you’ve got plenty of help, though I am sorry I couldn’t be of much use. I have been…busy being the centre of someone’s attention.” Bobby throws his date a wink before his grin drops to a scowl when Val chimes, “You never really have proven yourself useful before, Bobby. I don’t see how you’d start now.” Adam doesn’t bother hiding his pride at Val’s witty retaliation, which only spurs Bobby’s annoyance. “Wouldn’t want to be manning this cheap set-up anyway.”
“If your presence here has no purpose, I’d suggest you step aside. Buy the ticket or go.”
“Calm down, Angel, no need to be so tense. Besides, it was her idea, not mine. And since I’m ever so generous, I’ll pay for two please.”
Adam hands Bobby his gun with a little more force than normal, making Bobby stumble forward slightly. Bobby looks up at him accusingly and Adam ignores it just as easily. Val hands his date a gun before sarcastically wishing them good luck. Bobby manages to shoot well before Val pipes in with “That’s shit form” and “Having him must be like losing ten good men” to his date. Bobby’s ego definitely doesn’t take it well, especially when his score is less than that of his partner. “Detective Montemer, would you be so kind as to show us what good form is?” His scowl has lessened and he’s attempting to put a charming front, but Adam can sense the human’s jealousy, as well as his annoyance with the whole situation in general. “The detective and I would be very happy to show you how to shoot a water gun. It is, after all, quite a difficult skill to master.” Adam quips wryly before he looks towards Val and asks with silent permission.
“I think his definition of friendly competition is way different from yours,” Val says uncertainly before they looked at Bobby’s shit-eating grin. “Actually, you know what, fuck it. He’s been asking for it.”
They take their place at opposite ends, Adam and Val playing against Bobby and someone else he’s managed to rope in. His ego really didn’t know how to take his partner’s win well. Someone shouts “Go!” and all four of them begin to shoot furiously at the targets. Adam’s gun has other plans as it simply refuses to shoot. He grits his teeth and presses the damn thing harder and then-
CRACK!
What remains in his hands are the broken remnants of the small, plastic gun. His furious action earns him a mocking laugh from Bobby, and Adam’s resolve to win only strengthens further. Before Val can say anything, he stands behind them and holds onto their gun. “We are meant to be a team, and I cannot grab a replacement quickly.” The excuse sounds terrible to his ears, but Val doesn’t protest and gives him a determined nod before they both work in sync and take down as many as they can. Adam feels lightheaded, and it has all to do with the close proximity between them. Adam can hear Val’s heart drum louder on the contact as well, and he has to steel himself to focus on the game instead of them. All efforts at being unaffected render futile when it comes to Val, but Adam reminds himself that this too is for Val. “Last one left.” Val point with their gun. “Whenever you say, Val.” Adam notices the shiver that runs through Val at the use of their name, and he ignores the pleasurable feeling that it elicits from him.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
After successfully beating Bobby at his shit bet, and after hesitantly untangling from Adam’s warm embrace, Val decides to clear the stall up. Adam had excused himself, saying something about seeing to the rest of the team. Val is left alone with their thoughts about the evening, about the attractive brooding vampire who’s taken up all their headspace and lets out a confused sigh. Val knows Adam’s hesitant to act on his feelings -they aren’t exactly forthcoming about the idea either. It is scary. To love and to lose. Val wonders if they even know what love truly is. Adam has been making them question their feelings and their standpoint on everything. There is always a rebuttal from him, be it during work or in their personal life. Val lets out a tired laugh at that observation. He’s always arguing back, intentionally and unintentionally, never really making things easy for them. He’s been like that from the first day, evading all their attempts at finding common ground and an attempt at establishing camaraderie. But Val has never backed down from it, from him, and neither his fears nor his denial will change Val’s determination. To show him that he is not hard to love, in fact, Val could say loving him is like breathing. So natural, so easy, so intrinsic to their being. But what do you know? A dark, nasty voice taunts. And maybe it's true. What do they know? Rebecca was never really around to act the part of a loving, doting mother, and Val naturally didn’t learn how to love either. They didn’t learn this shit, and it isn’t really their fault and-
Their train of thought stops when a nice, big cup of lemonade appears in their vision. Adam places some boxes on a makeshift table and offers them a seat. “I observed you did not take the time to replenish your energy during this entire ordeal,” Adam says with a slight wrinkle of his nose, mouth twisted in worry.
“Ordeal? You make it sound like we went through war.”
Adam smiles his dimples on full display. “I admit, I did exaggerate. It wasn’t entirely dreadful.”
“Awww, you’re learning to have fun now. Maybe I should let Tina know you’ll join us for her Halloween party this year since you’re loosening up and all.”
“Absolutely not.”
The immediate response, coupled with his disgusted expression, makes Val laugh. Adam smiles back at Val, eyes shining with affection. So much endearment in that gaze, that Val shifts and looks towards the food containers placed on the cardboard box they’re now using as a table.
“And it's fine, I wasn’t really hungry.” Val’s stomach grumbles to disagree and they look up at Adam sheepishly.
“If you are going to take these things so nonchalantly, I’m afraid I’ll have to keep a check. You shouldn’t place yourself as the last priority. I won’t let you be.” Adam quietly says the last part more to himself than Val, but Val hears it all the same and it hits them: perhaps they don’t know how to love, and perhaps Adam doesn’t either. It doesn’t matter though; this is more than enough.
Val watches endearingly as Adam sets up the small table and lines them carefully with plastic utensils and paper plates in a way Nate would be proud of. His face shows nothing but clear focus on his task and Val smiles. He gestures for them to begin, and Val shoots him a grateful look. Adam sits next to them and looks relieved, fretting less than before. This is more than enough.
Had the absolute pleasure getting to write for @ava-du-mortain, surprise hehe <3 Had a blast learning about your darling Areen - I adore her!! This was for the @wayhavenficexchange - had so much fun getting back in the groove to write!
Darkness. From the moment she opened and adjusted her eyes, pitch black was all that surrounded her. Complete and utter darkness. Shivers crawled up her spine. The hairs along her arms stood straight, unable to curl back into itself. Jaw clenched. Teeth grinded against one and another as she tried to find an exit. She has to find an exit, where was the exit -
Breathe Areen. You have to breathe.
What sort of abyss was she floating or falling amongst? A black hole that had collapsed within itself, that blocked out the light. There was nothing, to see nor to feel. She slammed her eyes shut again to calm her mind with deep breaths, hoped to wake up from the suffocating night and ignore the whiff of salt that brushed against her nose.
Salt?
No, that cannot be correct. Surely not.
Then as if she was in a movie, the scene was quick to change. From the black void that was once before, Areen found herself laid on top of a hard wooden surface. With a rough texture that had scraped against her back. She glanced up and saw that dark grey clouds had filled every inch of the night sky, not a single star nor constellation could have peaked through the water-filled fluff bubbles that won’t need much time to pop. When Areen had begun to stand, that whiff of salt had rushed back to tickle her nose. She glanced around to observe her surroundings and noted there was no doubt she was in fact on a boat. From the gentle rocking back and forth that could jumble your stomach, to hearing the sounds of the waves that crashed against the side of the boat. She could hear the flaps of the sails, the whistling winds and slow pitter patter of raindrops that started to fall. The coldness had returned, as if it never left. However, the more she gazed and wandered around the ship, there was only one question that remained in her mind.
Where is the crew? Anyone… Everyone – where are they?
Besides the crashing waves and the burst clouds, there had been nothing but silence. Areen knew she was alone. Alone and lost on a ship with no direction stated. In that moment of realisation her lungs started to tighten, eyes started to swell up with tears and she hugged her knees fiercely towards her chest. Was this how it ended for her? Lost and separated from those she loves, unable to figure out which way to turn to return home. To reunite with her friends, her family, her love.
The coldness swarm around her with the icy breath of the whistling winds that started to freeze her cheeks. However instead of a frozen statue, Areen felt herself melt with the sudden warmth. As she glanced up, she was greeted with the amber light highlighting the shore edge. Her ears perked up at the muffled voices that had become louder and louder as the boat drew near. The light beamed through the once grey clouds and tickled her cheek like sweet soft kisses to help calm her mind, which brought a smile when she could see –
Beep!
A smile that was bigger than her own, a face blurred –
Beep! Beep! Beep!
Areen groaned as she tiredly shut off the alarm that had ever so rudely interrupted a nice end to a terrible nightmare. One that had brought shivers when she was forced to think about it again. Half past seven in the morning, the sun arose for the day. The shine peaked through a gap in her curtains, warmed an already warm apartment. Areen had found herself humming to the melody of the early birds, a tune she had been used to each morning. Soft and peaceful. Despite the sudden loud beeps of her alarm, or the blinding sun that greets every day or even the bird’s melodic tune – it was another that truly could wake Areen up.
“Good morning, babes!! 🥰😘”
Her darling Farah. The most cheerful, colourful vampire she was forever thankful to meet that faithful day at the library. Not even the warmth of the sun itself could compare to how a single text from Farah was able to light up Areen’s face in an instance.
As Areen went to freshen up in the bathroom, Farah sent another message.
“Hope you dreamt of me 😉’cause you know I was dreaming about you hehe 💕”
The remembrance of her dream, or more so a nightmare, crawled up her back. The icy cold atmosphere brought back the shivers. She took a deep breath and glanced towards the mirror. Dark oceanic eyes piercing back towards her. Another breath in, another breath out.
It was not real. You are here, you are fine. Everything is fine.
“Morning to you as well, darling” Areen sent to Farah, “You know any dream with you could always cheer up my mornings x”.
“Aww babes! Sooo was that a yes, someone can’t keep me out her mind hm?”
“Of course, x,” More than you could realise. “and it seems that I am not the only one, I hope?”
“Thinking of you? How could I not! 😊 –“
Areen let out a soft chuckle when Farah listed every possible compliment she could give. With each passing compliment had caused her insides to flip. Her cheeks darken as she read on. That gorgeous vampire of hers never failed to make Areen fluster, even when she was not present in the room.
“You flatter me, darling. But that’s one of the things I adore about you.”
After the last message sent, Areen dusted herself off and made her way through the apartment. It was on the smaller side to most, but the warmer colourful décor and soft plush couches scattered with pillows helped her turn it from a bland boring apartment to a cosy respite she was glad to call home. Her style would be considered vintage, with intricate patterns and favouring natural wood over newer styles. Her apartment may look old or like ‘stepping out of a time machine’ as Farah ever so lovingly put it before, but it is what makes her most comfortable. Having a space that reflects her, regardless of if others considered it odd with the severe lack of modern technology. She preferred her space to be cluttered with books, as though she lived in her own personal library.
Areen reached over to pick up the book that was spilled open on her coffee table. It was an older tome, quite delicate that she had borrowed from Nate when she wished to research further into the arcane. An unusual topic to choose if she were to speak to others in town, but after meeting with Unit Bravo and found out about the supernatural world – It had become a topic she had more interest to learn about. If you had told her a year ago about belief in the arcane or supernaturals in general, she would’ve simply shaken her head at the absurd idea. Past Areen wouldn’t fathom the reality of magic or that she even ended up with a girlfriend who was an actual real-life vampire!
She let out a short laugh at how a year could’ve changed as she tucked the book in her bag – had made a mental note to return it back to Nate when she could meet up with him after work. Before she left, Areen took a final glance at herself in the hall mirror. She ran a hand over her tightly coiled braids, straightened out her cardigan and turtleneck. Took a breath as those blue eyes stared at her down. Kept the sounds of the crashing waves and an intruding storm at bay as she strolled through the door, was ready for the day to start.
♡♡♡
A benefit of having lived in such a small town as Wayhaven, the need to drive to get around places was practically non-existent. Instead of being stuck in traffic, Areen was able to enjoy the early summer breeze when she walked to work. The morning sky, whilst still had a few clouds, was a pleasant sight to see. The warm winds that blew her braids away from her face. The lush green trees, as full as a local at a dinner party, swayed without a care in the world. However, even if they made for a lovely sight, Areen was always mindful of those low hanging branches. With her long legs, she was one step away from getting smacked in the face.
Areen had kept her head high as she walked with purpose to the library. No distractions, only focused on the 10-minute walk from her apartment to her work. No distractions - but like a sailor who caught in a trap of a siren’s song, the smell of freshly baked bread and sweet sugary goodness geared her to a halt. Areen tended to pass on breakfast, as it doesn’t usually agree with her stomach so early in the day. However, it seemed that a whiff of sweetness tickled her nose and caused her to change direction into the local bakery. A short delay won’t hurt and at least she got to say morning to a dear friend.
The soft chimes rung as Areen entered and she was once again greeted with that gust of sweetness in the air. The bakery had been decorated with bold and bright summer colours, neat floral arrangements on every table - each slightly different from the other. A large chalkboard was seen behind the counter, with the day’s special offers written in colourful chalk. Considering it was very early in the morning, there had been no line and only a few patrons that had already sat down with a drink. As though she had sensed her arrival, Haley’s smile beamed brighter when she noticed Areen.
“Morning Areen! Did not expect to see you so early in the day.”
“It’s good to see you Haley, and I suppose the smell of the warm pastries baking drew me in” She maintained a soft yet calm smile, “But I can never say no to see a good friend.”
Haley had let out a soft laugh, “and I very much appreciate that, would you like your usual?”
Areen glanced at the glass counter then nodded at the question. Haley was one of her closest friends, someone who spent a while getting to know and enjoyed being around – both at the bakery or out of work. It was no surprise that Haley was able to memorise something as simple as Areen’s order regardless of the time or day, a warm green tea with a pastry.
Haley returned a pleasant smile, “very well, feel free to take a seat and I’ll bring it over in a moment.”
Areen glanced around the bakery when she went to grab a seat. The bakery patrons ranged from an elderly couple huddled close whilst working on the morning crossword puzzle to a group of young perky teens who clearly forgot to do the day’s homework with them fretting around. Her heart warmed when the elderly woman leaned to press a soft kiss on her partner’s cheek. The sheer idea of becoming old with the one you love and cherish made her heart flutter. Well until the partner sent a scolding glare towards Areen’s direction and muttered “what do you think you’re looking at?”. The wife sent an apologetic smile before she turned back to her love.
Speaking of love, Areen heard a ping from her mobile and her eyes lit up to another message from Farah.
“Missing you already babes , stuck in such a boooring meeting 😩!”
Attached to the message was a rather cute selfie of Farah with an exhausted expression. Despite Areen’s main focus was on the pretty vampire, she had not missed the blurriness of a grumpy Mason and unamused Ava in the back. The sight let a chuckle out of her and responded back.
“Focus Ferfer, As much as I want, you can’t spend all your time thinking of me haha. ”
After a few minutes’ past, Haley arrived with her order and her usual kind-hearted soft smile. “Here you go, one green tea and fresh pastry as expected.”
“Thank you, I was just glad that I arrived before the morning rush fully started – “
In a sudden flash, the bakery door fling wide open – almost knocked over the nearby plant – and stood was a curly haired, freckled, cheeky grinned detective. Tina’s voice booms “Work doesn’t start till the sugar hits!” Areen had a small smile from that whilst shaking her head.
Haley instantly brightened when she noticed who arrived. Her cheeks had gotten more rosey when Tina greeted her with her usual amount of perkiness. Their hands brushed when Haley handed Tina her drink order, with the pile of sugar packets on the side. Areen noticed how a small touch had caused Haley’s face to become warmer than it usually was. Similar to how Areen got when she was with Farah, that vampire seemed to know exactly what it took to make her fluster like she was a hormonal teenager again. Areen glanced over at Tina and sighed as it seemed she was completely unaware of how her presence affected the young baker.
When Areen eyed the packets and gave Tina a look as she sat down at her table, Tina scoffed with a smile “You can’t say anything, Ms sweet tooth that makes the dentist shiver.”
Areen raised her hands in peace with a calm smile, “I didn’t even say a word.”
Tina stuck her tongue out, “you didn’t have too.”
The banter continued between the three of them, majority from Tina with various funny anecdotes from the station. Areen was fine simply listening to her rambles. Another message interrupted the conversation, but it was not something Areen would ever be mad about.
“Surely you know by now I can never get tired thinking of you, 🌞 or 🌑 <3 !!”
Her smitten expression must have been noticeable, when she looked up and saw Haley had a sweet smile, whilst Tina let out a groan.
“Gonna make us jealous over here with you fawning over that girlfriend of yours.”
Areen paused with a raised brow, “How did you know who I could be talking to?”
Tina barked out a laugh, “Oh please! There’s only one person that can make you light up like a flame.” Haley did not respond but nodded in confirmation.
Areen’s cheeks darkened but let out a cough and got up from her seat “It was lovely to speak with you both, but it seems time has gotten away, don’t wish to be late for work.”
Tina smirked as she poured more sugar in her coffee, “No need to get shy Ari, it's sweet to see you like that. Gosh I wished I had someone to receive cute messages from” She let out an exaggerated loud sigh.
Areen stopped at the door, glanced over her shoulder at both women “Perhaps the person you are looking for has been near the whole time.”
Haley was quick to go back to her work, cleaning up dishes and cups, whilst Tina rolled her eyes and groaned “urgh I wish – that would make things easier huh?”
Areen shook her head with a short laugh after she said her goodbyes and made her way to work.
♡♡♡
One of Areen’s favourite parts from working at the library was to see everyone that walked through those doors. Maintained a relaxed yet polite smile when she greeted the visitors , answered any and all questions they had. She sorted out tasks to the employees that worked that day and managed any queries that arose. She was known to be a sociable woman, having easily flown conversations with the visitors and calmed rather excitable children down when she led them to the children’s section for story time. Being around a community was like a warm blanket and she had no intention to leave the comfort it provided.
Whilst she was reshelving a collection of recently returned books, her tall height prevented her the need to use a step ladder, a single paper aeroplane flew across and landed perfectly on her book. The aeroplane was slightly crumpled with various hand drawn doodles and stickers scattered around. No rhyme or order, just an array of stars, hearts, well drawn flowers and even a colourful unicorn. The unicorn had a speech bubble with a phase written in curly writing.
♡ Open Me ♡
Even before she opened the aeroplane, Areen knew exactly who it was from. The artistically messy handwriting, adorable doodles and explosion of bright colours was an obvious giveaway – and yet still brought a small, surprised smile on her face. Her heart bloomed when she read what was hidden inside.
“Human realm roses are red,
Your eyes are strikingly blue,
Turn around ‘cause behind …
there is a gorgeous gift waiting for you ”.
So, she did and stood there was her beautiful girlfriend that invaded her thoughts every passing moment. She had her usual purple woollen beanie that barely covered her coiled poofy hair and beaming smile that reached her eyes. Farah flicked a two-finger salute with one hand still behind her back.
Areen had a questioning yet slightly amused expression, “Farah? I thought you were busy with the agency business?”
Farah shrugged with a cheeky grin, “I mean my patrol route was nearby, so I just had to see my favourite girl” she sent her a wink “Something about your expression tells me you do not mind one bit, did I get that right babe?”
Areen rolled her eyes still with pure affection on display, “You are always welcome here, as your company is whose I treasure the most.”
Farah cooed as she moved closer then paused when she remembered that she had a surprise behind her back. “Oh! I almost forgot – I wanted to give you these,” She held out a collection of wildflowers wrapped with a golden coloured ribbon. “I know Nate would say to choose each flower carefully and coordinate with their meanings and what goes together blah blah blah – but I thought they looked pretty, like you and hoped you would like them too.” Then would pause when she started to wave a hand, “Unless you don’t like these types and I could find another that you prefer or – “
Areen moved closer, used her free hand, and interrupted her rambles by taking a hold of hers. She gave it a gentle squeeze and leaned down to press a soft kiss on Farah’s cheek. “I love them, habibti. Thank you.” She watched as Farah’s eyes fluttered closed for a second and the kiss seemed to help ease her darling’s breaths. Farah gazed up through her lashes, her eyes beaming bright like the sun and had a soft genuine smile.
“And I love you, Ari”.
Those three words caused instant heart palpitations and for the social butterfly to become stunned silent. Her whole body warmed even more as Areen’s hands brushed against Farahs to take the flowers.
“You don’t mind if I stick around for longer?” Farah had the audacity to ask, as though she was unaware Areen would never say no. Not ever, not in a million years. Areen leaned against the bookshelf and watched as Farah had slipped into conversation with some of the visitors, charming them with a grin.
Being stranded lost and alone had always been a dark fear in the back of her mind. But in that moment, Areen stood amongst the personification of sunshine and spoke a silent whisper of endearment, a secret only heard by the two of them.
She would not let herself drown within the darkness, not when those bright amber eyes found her gaze. Her own beacon of hope that shall guide her way back home.
Fandom: The Wayhaven Chronicles
Characters: Adam du Mortain & detective (Raziela Jakowlewna)
Word count: 2k
A/N: here's my contribution to the @wayhavenficexchange. @hypnostanatos I had so much fun trying to figure out Raziela and hope I did them justice. I couldn't resist going with implied polyam Adam x Raziela x Mason, so I hope you'll enjoy this!
Raziela has only been away for a few minutes, yet when she steps back into Tina’s garden, the scene she gazes upon is completely different from the one she had witnessed all evening.
Earlier this week, the newly appointed detective invited Raziela and the team for a dinner around the campfire. Surprisingly, it didn’t take much to convince Adam to let the team attend the party.
Their host is currently in the kitchen, clearing up the dishes, with Verda and Agent Pierson, whom Raziela had barely managed to avoid when coming out of the bathroom. Nat is sitting across from her, on the other side of the bonfire, speaking with Verda’s husband. She can’t hear what they’re talking about over the crackling of the fire, but judging by the way Eric’s hands are moving as he speaks, and knowing Nat’s enthusiasm for all kinds of subjects, this must be an interesting conversation. Farah is nowhere to be seen, but judging by the fits of laughter and screams following the sounds of water splashing, Raziela can easily guess that she has taken Verda and Eric’s daughters to the lake. Mason has also disappeared. She saw him walk away into the surrounding woods, the red glow of a cigarette hanging upon his lips following him. He hasn’t reappeared since.
Seeing that she has some time left before the rest of the party gathers back around the campfire, Raziela takes out the book she brought along - a collection of horror short-stories she had been saving for a gloomy autumn day. Yet, when Adam sits next to her a few minutes later, she hasn’t made it past the first sentence of the first short-story, reading it over and over again without being able to focus on it.
“Where have you been?” She asks without looking up.
“I was just making sure Farah is not letting your friends’ children too close to the water…”
Raziela snorts. “You know, you should give her a little more credit. She’s great at looking after me, and I’m way more insufferable than Verda’s kids.”
She’s not sure whether or not she should be offended over the fact that Adam takes a moment to debate whether he should agree or pretend that he doesn’t but, in true Adam fashion, he doesn’t spare her feelings. “You really are insufferable”
At least he has the decency to hold back a laugh when she gasps, feigning to be offended. She cannot resist teasing him back.
“She’s better with kids than you are, anyways-” she quips, deliberately marking a pause to gauge his reaction. He barely manages to hide a frown before she adds, “-so, leave her be.”
“I also went to look for Mason but couldn’t find him.” Adam says before silence can settle between them. She replies with a nod.
She can understand why Mason left. This whole party. The noises and scents coming from the bonfire. The smell of grilled meat and vegetables tainting the air. The mingled conversations and Verda’s daughters being their noisy selves. This can be a lot to deal with. She’s already struggling with it, so she can’t imagine what it must be like with heightened senses. So, she assumed he needed a break and would come back when he was ready.
Adam’s voice breaks her out of her own thoughts. “Horror stories? Really?”
“This is Tina’s doing. According to her, ‘campfire parties suck without scary stories’. I think she forgot to take into account the fact that there would be kids at her party.”
Adam laughs. It’s an actual laugh, not a repressed one, nor a snort. She cannot help but chuckle at the unexpected reaction.
Noticing that he seems to be in a good mood, she ventures to ask the question that’s been eating her up all evening. “You know, I think this is the first time I’ve seen you eat actual human food. I thought Nat was the only one who liked it.”
“She is, but we can’t risk your friends getting suspicious over our behavior. So we had to eat.”
“You say this as if your daily behavior isn’t the most suspicious thing ever.”
“We are not suspicious. We are professionals!” Raziela watches as Adam tries not to lose his cool.
“Professionals who often let a ‘you, humans’ slip in a conversation. Not to mention that one of us is absolutely shit with technology. Come on, I’m bad with it, but Nat is on another level. Even the local elders do better than her with a computer.” Seeing Adam’s frown deepen, she decides to stop before her comments actually get on his nerves. “Anyways, I really appreciate the effort you all put in, coming to dinner with me. You didn’t have to.”
“Of course, we did.” For a moment, she lets herself hope that he really did this for her, but then he adds: “We have to spend time with your friends if we do not want our cover to be blown away.”
She feels so stupid. It was obvious that was the sole reason they came. She should have known when he immediately agreed to come. They can’t risk having their secret uncovered because of her.
“You know I could have covered for you to, at least, avoid the dinner.” She says, trying her best to conceal her disappointment. “Although, it would have meant missing out on the hilarious grimaces you and Farah made, trying to act like this was the best food you’ve ever had. You’re lucky Tina knows about you, or she would have been offended. You’ll also have to thank Nat because she managed to keep Verda and Eric distracted long enough for them not to notice what was going on.”
“Cover for us?” Adam ignores the whole part about him and Farah making faces and asks, “What lie could you have possibly told them that would have given us a pass on this dinner?”
“That you guys were on patrol and would join later.” Raziela has to hold back a laugh as Adam’s mouth opens and closes multiple times without a single word coming out. Tears well in her eyes at his dumbfounded expressions when he realizes that this simple lie could have gotten them out of the awful dinner they had to go through. This is the most hilarious thing she has seen in a while. “It looked like you guys drew straws before coming to decide who would get to use the ‘I’m feeling sick’ card Mason played tonight.”
The loud silence that follows her observation tells her she is spot on and she has to pinch herself not to bark out a laugh.
“You guys really are bad liars for people who work in a secret agency.”
“We wouldn’t have to lie if it weren’t for you.” Adam retorts. His words feel like knives and she winces at his sharp tone. As he doesn’t seem to notice how cutting his words are, she can’t help but wonder if he’s doing it on purpose.
For a moment, she thinks that he’s going to walk away, just like he has been doing for the past weeks anytime he throws a hurtful jab her way. Yet, this time, he stays and a tense silence settles between them. She doesn’t know how to bring up the conversation, damn, she doesn’t even know what this is about.
So, she just sits there and considers picking her book back up, but that would only set back whatever discussion they need to have. Instead, she chooses to glare at Adam, realizing that this might be the only way to get him to talk.
He stares back and she wonders if she opted for the wrong option until, after a long silence, he finally speaks.
“I’m sorry…”
She waits for something more. She waits for him to explain why they can’t seem to spend more than five minutes in the same room without him spewing scorching comments her way. She waits for him to explain what has changed between them. But only silence meets her.
“No…” she sighs. “You don’t get to do that! You don’t get to apologize and leave me hanging there without a single clue as to why you’re acting that way!” She stops. Her voice had come out a little louder than she expected, catching Nat and Eric’s attention. “I thought we were past that. I thought that our lengthy bickering session had brought us closer…I thought we were friends.” She confesses under her breath, ignoring Nat and Eric’s gaze still turned towards them.
“We are.”
“Are we, really? Because, lately, you’ve been making it sound like hanging out with me is nothing more than some sort of work obligation, Adam!”
“Raziela…”
He has that pitiful look on his face, which she rarely sees, and she hates being on the receiving end of it. Not sure she wants to have that conversation after all, she makes to leave, when he grabs onto her wrist.
“I like you.”
“What!?” She flops down on her seat, thinking she misunderstood.
“I like you.” He repeats, before quickly adding, “Not romantically. There’s nothing like that between us, but I do really like you. As a friend. The same way I like Nat; although it seems to be a little different this time.” He rubs the back of his neck, looking a bit sheepish, not a word she ever thought of using to describe Adam.
“Wait a minute. I need to make sure I understand. You’re saying that you like me as a friend?” He nods. “Okay, now I’m lost. Why have you been acting like an asshole then?”
“It’s just that people don’t usually grow on me that fast.” He doesn’t even seem to notice the fact that Raziela called him an asshole.
“So, what? You panicked?”
“Yes… Not even Nat has ever managed to chip away at me this fast, so I guess I got scared, in a way.”
“Why? I mean, we’re just friends.” There’s a hint of hesitation in her voice as she says those words, because even she knows that the bond they’ve managed to create, over so little time, goes beyond that. She just never took the time to think about it.
“Because I’ve grown to care for you. Deeply.”
She thinks about all the little things she pretended not to notice, like the way he often seemed almost as worried as Mason whenever she got hurt. How he started looking for her approval, even for mundane things. The way they stopped arguing as often as they did in the beginning. How their quiet hanging out session had turned less boring and became moments to unwind in each other’s presence.
A sense of quiet overtakes Raziela as she reminisces about all the time they’ve spent together and how their relationship has evolved and, suddenly, she understands what he means because she feels the same way towards him. She enjoys the way they understand each other without having to talk. She loves knowing that she can confide in Adam without fearing like he’s going to judge her for anything she says and she loves that he feels comfortable enough around her to do the same.
So, she understands when he says that he likes her and that there isn’t anything romantic between them. He’s not attracted to her and neither is she attracted to him. Oh, he’s good looking, there’s no denying that. Tina would call her a fool if she did. He’s very dear to her, and with his confession, she now also knows that he has a soft spot for her. It’s just that those things don’t come into play when she thinks about Adam and the relationship they share and that is the main difference from what she shares with Mason.
Before she can say anything, Verda’s voice echoes from the kitchen.
“Tina, please be careful!” He’s following her closely as steps out of the French doors, carrying a cake which precariously slides on the glass stand Verda lent her.
Adam quickly moves to another seat, resuming their conversation but that might be for the best.
Right now, she feels like he has opened Pandora's box and she’s not quite sure she’s ready to deal with it, just yet. So, in the meantime, she’ll keep calling Adam her best friend.
Rating: E for everyone | Word Count: 1718 | Pairing: Adam x Jonah (@sustainably-du-mortain OC Detective) x Nate | Notes: I feel so lucky to have gotten Jonah in this draw. He has been an absolute delight to get to know and work with. Thank you, @sustainably-du-mortain for providing so much detail and information about him. This is actually my first TWC fic in general and I hope I did him and the others justice.
And thank you @wayhavenficexchange for hosting this event and giving me a reason to reach out of my comfort zone.
***
It’s quiet here in Wayhaven, not in the eerie sense, but in the sense that you can still hear footsteps over the gentle bustle of the streets. The few cars that pass by and the nearby cafe chatter won’t drown out the steady tread of shoes against brick sidewalks, even for non-vampires. Vampires, of which there are several in town now, hear even more.
For some, it’s a relief, a welcome distraction from the sensory overload that comes along with being an agent within the supernatural community’s Agency for peace. Peace and tranquility is what a town like Wayhaven promises, a small community where everyone knows everyone and the days pass by a little slower.
Peace is not what Commanding Agent du Mortain has found on the streets of Wayhaven this morning. A dense fog is blanketing the square, it has been since their arrival late last night. That the townspeople don’t seem to take special note of it tells him it’s typical for the area. How dreary.
But it’s not the low visibility or foreign territory that has dug itself under Adam’s skin and made itself at home. It’s one of those sounds that is so easily isolated in such a quiet town. This one is more prominent than the others. It is to him, at least. He furrows his brow and follows the trail without realizing he’d deviated away from the other members of his team.
The hunt doesn’t take him far; nothing in Wayhaven could be considered far. An apartment building. It mercifully blocks out what sun has dared to escape through the thick fog, casting Adam’s face in heavy shadows that feel cool and welcoming on his skin. It’s an interesting contrast to the warm feeling spreading through his chest. He might prefer the chill.
It’s easy to pinpoint the exact window; it would be, even if it weren’t one of the few ones propped open at this hour. Musical notes blossom from the open space and coast easily to where Adam stood in watch. They turn the westerly wind into their own personal stave, organizing their melody on the gentle breeze.
It’s familiar.
Not that he had heard it before, but that maybe he had felt those same emotions before. It was his mother’s lullaby; it was also the rich scent of rosemary from atop her coffin. It was the song he learned to waltz to. It was every melody Nate played in the background while he read late into the night.
Conjured by the very thought, Nate appeared in his peripheral view. Chances are he’d been there the whole time, and he knew the others were likely not far. They would, after all, follow wherever he led.
If he wasn’t imagining, he knew Nate would feel the same way, and turned to him. His eyes were fixed on the same window. Maybe the music drew him here instead of his sense of loyalty. He isn’t wholly here either. Their eyes meet on the crescendo and Adam wonders where the notes are taking Nate and if he could join him there.
Fumbling chords and rampant curses take the place of the entrancing melody. The spell is broken and Adam is left staring at the shameless grin on Nate’s lips. It’s not quite enough to shake the haunted feeling from his shoulders. The weight of his memories doesn’t feel as light as it had a moment ago. The good reasons he had for following the siren’s song are somewhere scattered on the asphalt around his feet.
For the first time in a long time, Adam thinks about prayer.
***
Nate stood with his usual graceful poise, the violin nestled beneath his chin as if it were an extension of his very being. His fingers, long and deft, poised lightly upon the strings, radiating a sense of familiarity and intimacy with the delicate wooden frame. The violin itself seemed to respond to his touch, the wood resonating with a knowing vibrancy.
As the bow made contact with the strings, a hushed magic filled the air. The initial stroke was soft, a tender caress that awakened the strings’ dormant melodies. The notes emerged with a sigh, a whisper that invited any listener to lean in, to partake in the secret world he was about to unveil.
With each sweep of the bow, Nate’s body swayed ever so slightly, as if he were a conduit for the music itself. His eyes, closed in concentration, felt every nuance, every emotion encapsulated in the composition. The bow danced with precision, weaving a tapestry of sound that carried both sorrow and joy, melancholy and exuberance.
His expression was a reflection of the music he conjured–a myriad of emotions painted across his face. A furrowed brow during a crescendo of tension, a soft smile as the melody took a hopeful turn, and the subtle lift of an eyebrow during an unexpected flourish–every detail communicated a profound connection to the composition.
And as the music reached its zenith, his body seemed to become one with the melody. The final notes quivered in the air, hanging for a breathless moment before fading away. Nate lowered the bow, his chest rising and falling with the rhythm of the piece they had just re-birthed.
For a few suspended moments, the world remained wrapped in the echoes of the performance. Nate’s world had been marinating in this melody ever since it found him outside that apartment building. He played it over and over in his head in a desperate attempt to cling to its every note, to carve it into his subconscious and never let it go.
He hadn’t felt like flesh and blood like this in too long. The melody was every word he couldn’t think of to describe his home, his life. It felt more like him than he did on some days.
Familiar.
In that, maybe he remembered a part of himself that he had laid down once before and never bothered to go back and pick up. Maybe the artist from the window had found it instead.
Nate turned towards the new presence standing in the doorway. Adam changed the atmosphere like a storm; he didn’t need to see him to know he was there. He wanted to ask him what the song felt like to him. The weight of it had filled the space between them since that morning, comfortably connecting all the ends they couldn’t make meet before. Had he remembered it correctly? Did he do it justice? Was it theirs now?
He didn’t need to ask any of these things out loud. They have known each other too long for that.
***
In the heart of Wayhaven, a subtle shift began to stir the very air that had once held a sense of cozy familiarity. It was as if the town itself had taken a collective breath, and with that breath, an unseen transformation began to unfold.
The sun, once casting its golden glow with a gentle warmth, now seemed to hang lower in the sky, casting elongated shadows that stretched across the streets. The daylight held a slightly different hue, carrying a touch of melancholy as it filtered through the leaves of trees.
The townspeople, often seen bustling about with carefree smiles, now moved with a different cadence. Their footsteps seemed softer, more contemplative, as if attuned to an underlying shift that had settled over their surroundings. Conversations held a hint of hushed anticipation, as though they were sharing secrets with the town itself.
Buildings that had stood for generations seemed to hold their breath, their aging facades taking on new character in the changing light. Shadows crept along the brickwork, adding depth and mystery to familiar landmarks.
The air itself carried a distinct crispness, a harbinger of the impending transition.
Amidst this shift, there was a sense of introspection that seemed to settle over the town like a soft mist, especially for Jonah. He gazed upon familiar vistas with fresh eyes, finding beauty in the nuances he might have overlooked just two days ago.
The atmosphere, once characterized by its lively rhythms, now held a more contemplative melody. It was a shift that acknowledged the passing of time, the cyclical nature of seasons, and the collective spirit of the ebb and flow of life.
It wouldn’t leave Jonah alone.
This new melody emerged from the ashes of every song he had ever written, ever listened to, and branded itself on his skin alongside every dragon keeping him company. He played it over and over, trying to capture the peculiar and haunting change that was happening around him, maybe just inside him. Something had changed.
He pulls his father’s jacket tighter around his shoulders and wonders when he had made the decision to walk to work. It wasn’t the type of day he would typically do this. Wind whips the hair around his face and into his field of vision. But something in the air needed savoring. The end of the song was on the wind.
The station was on the horizon. The rising sun peaking over the tall trees highlighted its familiar lines. Something was going to happen there. Nervous and excited energy filled his stomach and fluttered through his chest with each step closer to the front door. Vehicles with out-of-state license plates filled parking spots that were usually left empty.
The melody became louder in his head as he pushed through the front door. It spilled out through the low hum vibrating in his throat. He thinks it’s getting louder, but he’s hardly the one controlling it. Everyone in the front office goes unacknowledged for fear of losing the next note and the one after that.
He’s still humming it, overjoyed at every second it doesn’t get lost in the ever shifting composition in his mind, when he pushes through the door to his office. Visitors he hadn’t been expecting stared back at him. The melody dies on his lips, but he sees it in the eyes of one and then another. An impossible understanding passes through the three of them and it’s gone in the next moment.
The new sun and moon who have pulled the atmosphere of Wayhaven into this new reality are standing in Jonah’s office. The previous celestial bodies never stood a chance, surrendering the natural cadence of the town instantaneously. Jonah knew with absolute certainty that things were never going to go back to the way they were.
I’m excited to announce this Wayhaven gift exchange!
Now that Book 3 has been released for a while and we’ve had a change to read it and let everything sink in (and read it again), this seemed like a great time to do a fic exchange.
The idea of this exchange is that you will get assigned to another participant, your “giftee”. You will then write a fic featuring that person’s detective*, and someone else will write a fic for you, about your detective. This can be a sweet, romantic fic about the detective and their LI, but it can also be about found family feels with UB, or you could go in a more angsty direction. Whatever you think will make a great gift for the other person!
At the end of the exchange, all participants will share their gifts with their giftee and on here, so everyone will be able to see what has been created for this event ^^
When?
Deadline signing up: 9 July
Everyone will receive a message with the information of their giftee before 14 July
Deadline for turning in fic: Monday 14 August (09:00 CEST)
This corresponds to 17:00 AEST; 01:00 CST
Gifting: 20 - 27 August
Since the gift is meant to be a surprise, the gifter will only reveal themself to the giftee when sharing their fic.
The minimum word count is 800 words.
If you want to sign up, send me a message! You will get a link to a sign-up sheet on which you can give some basic info about your OC(s) and their worldstate.
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Looking forward to hearing from you and to reading the no doubt wonderful fics that will be written <3
