Character/s: Rick Grimes x Female!reader, Carl Grimes, Judith Grimes, Carol Peletier, other characters mentioned
Request: @ashwilliamscoveredinblood - hi hailey! I loved your last rick grimes fic so much, I love the modern AU. I thought you wrote rick worrying just enough so it wasn't like overbearing ig? you're a really talented writer! When I read it I knew I had to request for my mans rick if that's alright! Would you be able to do something where rick is on a supply run and when he gets back he finds out the reader has left for some reason? Maybe they needed to grab something for an emergency or were checking some sort of herd. But like, she/they (whichever floats your boat) have never really gone out without him so he's like super worried the whole time they're gone? If this doesn't vibe with you that is totally okay!!! Regardless thank you for reading and I hope you have a good day!
Summary: While Rick is out on a run, Y/n decides to go get something for herself. When she gets back, she gets an earful from her husband, but a pleasant surprise manages to shut him up.
Note: Thank you for the request darling! I went a bit off base (as I always seem to do), but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless <3
Masterlist | Navigation
Your throat felt dry as you stood in the living room, eyes on your husband as he spoke, anger and hurt dripping from his tone. You knew you shouldn't have left, but you came back without a scratch and with supplies for Alexandria, so you were justified in your actions for going on the run, even if you had done it alone.
To be fair, though, you had really wanted those cookies.
You woke up with a deep intake of air. Eyes still closed, your arms stretched across the bed, feeling the empty sheets sliding across your skin. Rick was nowhere to be found, and the thought scared you for a moment, until you remembered that he and a few others were supposed to leave on a run this morning. You guessed you’d slept in later than you planned.
A little upset that you didn’t get to say goodbye before he left, you got up and ready for the day. Skipping down the stairs, you found Judith and Carl sitting on the couch, the latter feeding his little sister small chunks of a cookie, which he held tightly in the hand pressed to Judith’s side.
“Morning,” you nodded with a smile, catching their attention as you headed into the kitchen.
“Morning? It’s practically noon, Y/n.” Carl laughed as you rooted through the cupboards.
You didn’t respond, only rolling your eyes with a smile - neither of which the boy could see. Your hands gripped the handles of the cupboards tightly, tapping your foot as you scanned the contents. Your mind screamed at you, stomach begging for your favorite oatmeal chocolate chip cookies. They were slightly soft and chewy, and you’d been eating them for as long as you could remember.
When your visual search came up empty, you cursed under your breath. You could’ve sworn there was a box of them in here yesterday. “Carl?” You called. “Did you eat the last of the cookies?”
“Uhh, no,” the boy’s voice wavered. That little shit.
“Are you lying?” You asked, stepping into the living room with accusatory eyes.
He shook his head, feeding the final piece of food to Judith. “Technically, no.” He remarked, shifting his hold on his sister to wipe his crumb-covered hand on his pants before standing up and placing her at his hip. “Technically, Judith ate the last cookie. I just fed it to her.”
You huffed, taking the baby from the boy’s arms. “Technically I should ground you, you know.”
“For… eating cookies?”
“Yeah, for eating my cookies.”
He only laughed, handing Judith to you before heading upstairs. Your eyes followed him before sighing and heading out the door to find Carol and ask her a favor.
To no surprise, you found her in the kitchen next door. “Carol, can I ask you a favor?”
“Sure, hun, what’s up?” She smiled, taking a moment to smile at Judith.
“Can you watch her today? I’ve gotta go do something and I think Carl’s hanging out with some friends today.” You asked, face scrunching up with guilt. You didn’t want to put this on her last minute, but you also knew that Carl wanted to hang out with Enid today and you didn’t trust Judith with anyone else.
“Sure, no problem! I’d love to spend a day with this little one,” she nodded, enthusiastic to spend more time with Judith.
Relivedly, you sighed and smiled. “Thank you, Carol. I owe you one, whatever you want.” The woman just nodded, taking the baby from your arms and bouncing her lightly. Leaning down, you pressed a kiss to Judith’s cheeks. “Bye, bye, baby,” you cooed, “I’ll see you later, okay?”
After saying your goodbyes to Carol, you went back home to tell Carl where you were. “Carl!” You shouted as you closed the door behind you, hoping he was still home.
“What’s up?” He said, stepping out of the kitchen, startling you. He laughed and you sent him a playful glare.
Walking with him to the kitchen, you told him what you were doing. “Gonna go on a quick run, okay? I shouldn’t be more than a couple of hours, at most.”
He only nodded, making his way back to the food he was making. “Okay, but if dad gets back before you…”
“He won’t.” You assured him. “Him, Daryl, and Glenn went out at the damn crack of dawn, and they’ll probably be back way later in the day than I will.”
“Whatever you say,” Carl shrugged, continuing to make his sandwich. You watched him close the sandwich together and reach into the fridge to grab a bottle of water before handing both of them to you. “Here. You didn’t eat anything when you got up this morning.”
“Oh, Carl, I don’t-”
“Yes, you do.” He pushed. “You’re going on a run with an empty stomach. Eat something, you need it. None of us need anything happening to you because you didn’t eat and got tired trying to outrun something.”
Sighing, you smiled at the boy’s thoughtfulness and took the food and drink. Stepping around the island, you bit into the sandwich, finding that it was peanut butter and jelly. Carl let you pull him into a hug, telling him you’d be back soon before heading out and to the pantry.
You chatted with Oliva as you checked out a gun and some ammo, briefly explaining that you were going on a quick run to find some groceries and would be back in a couple of hours. Going through the same usual steps, you waved a goodbye to Rosita, who was standing watch this afternoon, and peeled out of the gates, map and canvas bag filled only with the food Carl supplied you with resting on the passenger seat. Olivia had said something about a grocery store about an hour southwest that hadn’t been checked by anyone in the group yet, so you decided that going there would be best.
You cruised down the middle of the empty two-lane blacktop, windows cracked open and speeding far too quickly than what would’ve been acceptable if the world hadn’t ended. Taking the time to enjoy the fresh air and smells of spring, you leaned your head against the headrest, occasionally taking the time to glance at the map to see if you were still headed in the right direction, as well as snacking on your peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
Before you knew it, you’d reached the small town, and then, the grocery store. The building itself didn’t look too run down and was pretty big, and the parking lot was almost barren, save for a car or two. You pulled up to the doors, parking right in front of them and shoving the keys in your pocket.
Thick layers of dust covered the glass windows and sliding doors of the supermarket, making it difficult for you to find out if there was anyone - or anything - in there waiting for you. Gathering the end of your sleeve in your palm, you wiped the dust away in big, circular motions, squinting as you looked inside the store.
It seemed like it was clear, no noticeable signs of walkers or humans. So, taking out your knife, you jammed it into the doors, prying them open and pushing them to the side. Stale air berated your nostrils, making you cough as you inhaled. Stepping in, you noticed that dust had gathered over almost everything in the store, and you were sure that, even if anyone had been in here, they hadn’t been around in a long time.
Most of the shelves were barren as you walked through them, pushing a squeaky cart in front of you. It was silent aside from the old wheels squealing and groaning, but your mind made up for the lack of noise, presenting you with hundreds of rapidly paced thoughts, even though one was on the forefront. Finding a box of those damned cookies.
Turning onto the canned goods aisle, you felt like you’d hit a gold mine. It seemed like even during the end of the world, people were picky about the foods they wanted to eat. The shelves were stocked full of different kinds of canned fruits and vegetables. Beans, corn, carrots, peas, pears, peaches. Excitedly, you loaded your cart with the cans, filling it almost to its limit with food.
Turning into the next aisle, you found the last remaining bags of corn chips sitting destitudidly on a shelf, and you piled them in, as well. When you reached the gardening aisle, you realized that you’d have to put all this stuff in the car and come back. You dumped all the packets of seeds into your cart without care, adding in a few more gardening tools that you remembered Maggie mentioned needing before heading toward the store entrance.
When everything was stocked into the crates you brought you headed back in, looking through the rest of the aisles. When you reached the second to last aisle, you felt your knees go weak with pure joy.
There, sitting on the shelf, beckoning you like a moth to a flame, stood a single box of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies.
Barely suppressing a squeal, you pushed the empty cart and ran toward them, placing them gently in the child seating section of the cart. You continued on, a slight skip in your step as you turned into the final aisle of the store: the pharmaceutical aisle. You stopped short, wondering how you managed to miss the slight shuffling and groaning of the walker at the end of the aisle.
It was a woman. She’d been trapped in here so long that her bones were protruding through her rotting flesh, but there was no missing the hole torn into her clothing, dried blood staining and crusting onto her flower print blouse. She had been killed. With a heavy breath, you pulled out your knife and approached, putting her - it, you reminded yourself - out of its misery.
As the frail body of the walker fell to the floor, you wiped its blood on your already dirty overshirt before beginning your raid on whatever was left. You took the few bottles of painkillers, vitamins, and medicine that were left. On your way back to the cart with an armful of things your group needed, a small pink box hanging on the shelf caught your eye. Dumping everything into the cart, you hurried back to the collection of boxes, grabbing one and tucking it into your waistband, hoping that it wasn’t noticeable.
Pushing the much lighter cart back to the car, you loaded the final crate with your new findings, getting back into the car and peeling away, heading back home. You nearly chugged your water bottle on the way back, heart thumping irregularly every once in a while as your fingers drummed along the steering wheel to an invisible song.
The drive didn’t feel too long, and once more, you were at your destination before you knew it. The gates peeled open and, to your surprise, you found someone standing just fifteen feet away from the gate.
It was Rick, hands on his hips as his foot tapped impatiently on the asphalt. If you weren’t about to find out if you were in shit or not didn’t matter. You were definitely in shit now.
You never left the gates without Rick anymore. He had made it somewhat of an unspoken rule between the two of you after you got married. Well, married in the eyes of God, at least. It’s not like there was a government to legalize it anymore. You understood why, though. He only wanted to make sure you were safe.
As soon as you stepped out from the car, you felt the disappointment and anger rolling off of him, even if he was still a ways away. Handing the keys to someone, Rosita started unloading the pharmaceuticals, and as she passed you, you plucked the box of cookies from her crate, watching her try not to laugh as you did.
Anxiously, you made your way toward Rick, whose eyes were burning as they locked onto yours. He turned and began to walk away as soon as you were within a few feet of him, and you knew he wanted you to follow him. It felt like you were taking the walk of shame as you did, down the street and up the porch steps, through the yellow door of your home.
Looking around, you felt all too uncomfortable in the silence that blanketed the house. You followed Rick into the living room, placing the box of cookies on the table as you went. “Where are the kids?”
“I sent ‘em over to Carol’s.” He replied shortly.
“Why?”
Rick, whose hands had returned to his hips, looked away from the window and back at you. “‘Cause I don’t know how well I’m gonna keep myself from yellin’ at you and I didn’t want ‘em here for that,”
Your throat dried up quickly, and you felt yourself clamming up. Rick never yelled at you. Not even when you were at the prison and forced yourself into the sick ward to help Hershel, not knowing if you’d catch whatever deadly virus was rampaging its way through your people.
“Rick, I-”
“Don’t.” He snipped. “Don’t start. Do you have any idea how worried I was? You were gone for two hours.” Two hours? It didn’t feel like you’d even been gone that long. “I got back and Carl was in the house, you and Judith weren’t. He told me not to be mad, after he told me you left for a run.” His voice was eerily calm, but you could hear the slight shake in it as he tried to keep his composure. “Why the hell did you leave? Why didn’t you just wait for me to come back, I would’ve gone with you.”
“I-” you sighed, eyeing the box of cookies and feeling the cardboard edges of the box tucked into your waistband digging into your skin when you shifted your weight from one foot to the other. “I needed a few things, so did the community. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to go looking, and I was right. I only ran into one walker and I took it down easy, and now Maggie has more stuff to plant, and there’s more medicine in the infirmary.” Your voice grew steadier and more confident in your decision with every word you spoke.
“Still, it could’ve waited. You could’ve waited.” Rick pointed out, anger rising slowly. “What if you got hurt? What if you ended up somewhere, trapped and surrounded by walkers? What if-” he stopped, as if the words he was about to speak were winding around his throat, choking him. “What if you died out there? Alone?”
You stilled, the pain in his voice shocking you like a bucket of cold water being dumped over your head. A lump formed in your throat, tears slowly building. Still, you knew you were justified. “I- Rick, I couldn’t wait. I know, I know, I should’ve waited, but I couldn’t. I really wanted those cookies, and I-”
“You went out for cookies?” Rick blanched, anger boiling under his skin, burning and seething. “You risked your life for cookies?” He yelled, shocking your body into a flinch. “Why the hell would you do that!”
“Would you listen to me?!” You shouted over him, knowing he would continue on. “I didn’t just leave for some damn cookies, Rick! I left because I might be pregnant and I needed a damn test!”
Rick froze, eyes wide. Your chest heaved, eyes locked onto his frame. “I might be pregnant, okay? Now if you’ll excuse me, I drank a whole bottle of water on the way back, and I really need to pee.”
Stunned, your husband nodded as you turned and headed up the stairs, pulling the box from your waistband as you closed the bathroom door, taking a deep breath and prying it open, shaking the contents out onto the counter before grabbing the stick and heading to the toilet.
When it was done, you clutched the test and headed back downstairs, finding that Rick had only moved from the middle of the living room to the couch, shock still freezing his features. His head snapped up when he heard you step closer, eyes softening when he saw the test in your hand.
Sitting beside him, you said, “You know, if this test is positive, I’m gonna be shit outta luck.”
“Why?”
“‘Cause I’m really craving those cookies, and I drove an hour just for one box.” You said, heart lightening when Rick laughed. He took your left hand in his, the right one holding the test, and lifted it to his lips, kissing the ring on your finger.
You rested your head on his shoulder, sighing contentedly. You were anxious for the results, but you knew that with Rick, with your family, and with Alexandria, your baby would be safe. And if it ended up to be just the two of you, you’d do anything to keep them safe.
You and Rick stayed in that position for a while, Rick kissing your hair before resting his head on yours, simply enjoying each other’s presence and the peace between the two of you until a line decided your future from here on out. When you finally felt ready, you lifted your head and moved your right hand closer to the both of you. It shook as you did, and Rick squeezed your other hand for reassurance.
Uncurling your fingers, your breath caught in your throat when your eyes landed on the pink markings on the test. Two lines means positive.
Character/s: Rick Grimes x Female!reader, Carl Grimes, Phoebe Grimes (OC), other characters mentioned
Request: @gabymiller - Hiiii would you write Maybe a cute little fic series of modern au Rick grimes x reader and they have a baby girl and Rick is worried about sending her off to kindergarten and just cute little at home moments
Summary: It’s the first day of kindergarten for your and Rick’s daughter, Phoebe.
Warnings: Modern/no apocalypse AU, age gap (reader is about nine years younger than rick), slice of life, fluff
Word count: 1,772
Note: The fact that I spent like an hour working out a timeline to make everything work is baffling to me, but I hope you like it! I don’t think I focused on Rick worrying enough ):
Waking up was the worst part of your mornings. Everything else about the morning was just fine; taking a shower, making breakfast, getting everyone ready. None of that bothered you except for the actual waking up part.
The sun glared at you through the curtains, and just like every other morning, you cursed the layout of your bedroom for positioning the window at the opposite end of your bed. Squinting, you rolled over, finding relief from the burning ball of gas in the sky when you tucked your face into the neck of your husband.
“Well, look who finally woke up,” Rick teased, a breathy laugh falling from his lips as his arm pulled you closer to his body.
An upset laugh escaped you as you pulled back, looking up at the man. His blue eyes were already on you, an adoring smile stretching his stubble-covered cheeks. Reaching up, you scratched at the facial hair with a smile. “Good morning to you, too, cowboy.”
Chuckling, Rick pressed his lips to yours. His hand grazed your thigh as he began to turn you on your back. Both your hands reached to cup his cheeks as he continued pressing kisses to your lips. Unfortunately, before anything really happened, your bedroom door creaked open, followed by the patter of little feet.
“Mama! Daddy! Wake up!” A little voice called, crossing the room. Rick rolled back to his side of the bed as you sat up, watching your daughter climb up the bed. “It’s my first day of school! Come on!”
Phoebe crawled her way to you as Rick sat up, a bright smile lighting up his features. When your daughter got close enough, he picked her up and sat her on his lap, brushing her tangled hair from her face as she talked adamantly about what she thought would happen in school.
The picture before you warmed your heart like nothing else. Your husband, watching your daughter talk with so much passion. Everyone told you Phoebe looked so much like her father, and you knew they were right. She and Carl shared the same dark hair and blue eyes, but if it weren’t for the fact that she had your nose and bone structure, no one would’ve known she was yours.
Right now, her bed head was at its worst, tangled and sticking out in every direction. She was wearing her pink white bunny pajama set, one leg ridden halfway up her calf. Phoebe, like you, was famous for tossing and turning in her sleep. In one hand, she clutched the stuffed bunny Carl got for her before she was even born. Over the years, the fur became more matted and the white was starting to fade, but Phoebe still carried it wherever she went.
When the clock hit 7:15, Rick put Phoebe back on the ground and headed to the shower, while you took your daughter back to her room to get her ready for school. Since she insisted that she wanted to dress herself, you went across the hall to Carl’s room. “Carl?” You knocked on the door. “Come on, bud, you gotta get up. School starts in an hour.”
“I’m up,” his reply came through the door, muffled by the wood.
You nodded, deciding to check in on Phoebe, only to find that she had finished getting dressed and was trying to velcro her shoes. Looking up from her shoes, she asked, “Mama, can you do my hair? Like the way Maggie does it?”
“I can try, bug, but I don’t know how good I can do it,” you told her, “Maggie’s braids are extra special, remember?”
“I know,” she nodded. “But I think you can do it!”
Laughing, you stepped into the room and followed her over to her vanity, kneeling down to match her height. Hair ties littered the surface, but you started with the obvious: detangling her nest of hair as gently as you could. Once that was done, you did your best to pull Phoebe’s hair into a Dutch braid. After a few attempts, you had gotten pretty close to what Maggie’s braids usually look like, and finished it off by sliding a white headband onto Phoebe’s head.
Once she was out of the room, you stepped out, watching Carl leave his own room. He looked at you and you told him, “Head downstairs, I’ll be down in a minute to make some breakfast.”
Nodding, Carl followed Phoebe. You headed into your room to get dressed, opening the closet door as Rick stepped out of the bathroom. He sat on the bed before saying, “I can’t believe she’s going to school already.”
“I know,” you agreed, sorting through your shirts. “It feels like only yesterday I was in the hospital bed. And Carl’s going into high school next year, too. God, I feel old.”
Rick came over, standing behind you as he reached for one of his white undershirts. “What if the other kids pick on her? What if she doesn’t like it there?”
You laughed, turning to face your husband. “Relax, hon. She’ll do just fine. Remember, she’s your daughter, so she’ll probably have half the damn school charmed and wrapped around her finger by lunch.”
Rick laughed, slipping the shirt on. “Oh, really?”
“Yeah, really. How else do you think you had me blushing and stumbling over my words at a seven-year-old’s birthday party? Because of your supposedly amazing balloon animal-making skills?” You teased, mind wandering back to how you met.
“Nah, I just saw the most beautiful woman in the world and decided to shoot my best shot.” He smirked, causing your cheeks to heat up.
You pulled him into a quick kiss. “Well, it’s a good thing you’re a cop, sheriff Grimes.”
Rick pulled you in, pressing another kiss to your lips. When you pulled away, he slipped on and buttoned up his uniform shirt as you put on a pair of jeans and a blouse, being the last person in the house to make it into the kitchen.
Carl and Phoebe sat at the table, talking amongst themselves as Rick cooked up some bacon to go with their waffles. You poured them up some juice - orange for Carl, apple for Phoebe - and two cups of coffee for you and Rick. Breakfast passed simply, waffles and bacon being a regular and well-loved meal between the four of you.
By the time everyone was finished eating and getting ready, you barely had enough time to get Carl and Phoebe to the school. On the car ride there, Phoebe finally admitted, “Mama, I’m scared. I don’t wanna go to school. I wanna go to Maggie’s house.”
You and Rick shared a look as you turned onto the street where the school was, but before you had a chance to comfort your daughter, Carl stepped in. “It’s okay, Pheebs. I’ll walk in with you, okay? And there’s three outside breaks, you can come and stay with me if you want to. I’ll be there all the time, and if you need me you can ask your teacher, okay?”
“Okay,” the girl nodded, and your heart nearly melted. Ever since you and Rick first told Carl that you were having a baby, he fell in love with her, and with being a big brother. He’d do anything for her, including sleeping on the floor next to her crib when she cried at night just so you and Rick wouldn’t have to get up and rock her back to sleep.
“Carl, did you talk to your mom last night?” Rick asked, turning in his seat to look at his son.
The boy behind you nodded. “Yeah, she called me before bed. Said she couldn’t wait to see me for Thanksgiving and that Judy and Shane missed me.”
Rick nodded, not pushing the conversation any further. Up until about two years ago, Shane and Lori were still living in Kings County. That is, until they got engaged and moved out to Atlanta, opting to see Carl every other holiday instead of every other week. But somehow, even eight years later, the topic was a sore subject for your husband (understandably).
When you pulled into a parking spot and everyone had filed out of the car, your heart felt a little heavy. You didn’t have to be at the high school for another twenty minutes, but you did have to drop Rick off at the station. In his truest fashion, your husband managed to plan a way to leave his patrol car at the station the night before, hitching a ride with Glenn (Maggie’s husband, and, coincidentally, one of the deputies) so he could go to school with you and the kids.
You carried Phoebe’s bag as you walked, her hand enveloped by her father’s much larger one. Carl walked beside you, his bag haphazardly slung over one shoulder, creasing the flannel overshirt he wore.
There were so many parents gathered near the front doors, some of which you recognized, most of which you couldn’t identify. When your family slowed to a stop, you were the first to kneel down to your daughter’s height. Slipping her pink backpack onto her shoulders, you told her, “Be good, okay? Make some new friends, Maggie will be here to pick you up after school, okay?”
Your daughter’s face lit up at the mention of your friend. “Okay!” She nodded. Pulling her close, you pressed a kiss to her forehead and enveloped her in a hug before letting her say goodbye to her dad.
Rick did the same as you, eyes cloudy as he rested his hands on Phoebe’s arms. “Do as your mother says, got it?” The little girl nodded. “Okay. Now, daddy loves you,”
“I love you too, daddy,” she smiled, wrapping her arms around her father's neck. He pulled her close, and your heart melted at the tears in his eyes.
Like you did, Rick pressed a kiss to the side of Phoebe’s head before letting her go and standing to his full height. Both he and you turned to Carl, exchanging quick hugs, goodbyes, and ‘I love you's. (They were only so quick because he was getting a little too embarrassed for his own liking.)
Stepping back, you watched Carl make his way to his sister, outstretching his hand. “Come on, Pheebs, we gotta head inside now.”
Your daughter took her brother’s hand as you took your husbands, resting your head on his shoulder. With a happy heart, the two of you watched as your children turned to wave one final goodbye before disappearing into the building.
[ID: a tweet by adam howes (@/howsito) that reads, “you are now cursed with the job that the main character has in the last movie/TV show you watched. what’s your new profession?” End ID.]
Character/s: Peter Pevensie x Peters!reader, Susan Pevenise, Edmund Pevensie, Lucy Pevensie, Reggie Peters, Julie Molina, Luke Patterson, Alex Mercer, other characters mentioned
Summary: Y/n Peters went missing - and was presumed dead - mere months before the deaths of her brother and friends. When she returns from a life she never thought she’d live, she finds that everything in her life changed.
Warnings: Angst, mentions of pregnancy, fluff, not peter x reader centric, etc.
Word Count: 4,392
Note: this idea has had me in a chokehold for so long and i just couldn’t write it for so long but now it’s here !!
Note 2: i actually might expand this into a whole fic it has so much potential
Growing up, no one ever tells you how fast things can change. Accidents happen, people leave, you get a promotion. Things change so quickly and in so many different ways that it feels surreal when it happens to you.
Maybe that was because nothing in your life ever really changed. Your parents had been fighting on and off ever since you could remember, your brother and his friends were always by your side, and you were always really smart. Nothing ever changed. Not until you decided to take a shortcut.
That was all it was, really. A simple shortcut. A walk through the woods to avoid the busy sidewalks of your neighborhood. You didn’t think you were too deep into the patch of forest, and one of the kids that lived on your street said that he took that trail all the time coming home.
Normally you would’ve walked home with your brother, but you were held back for an hour due to your new tutoring position. It got you volunteer hours and you had good enough grades to help people out, so you didn’t see the harm in studying with ninth graders for an hour or two every week.
The February chill settled in your bones, the occasional wind shaking the barren trees. Your view of the outside world was blocked by branches and pine, so you could only assume that you were still close to the houses in the area as you walked along.
It may have been a bad idea to wear a leather jacket and fishnets to school, especially now since you were so cold, but you didn’t care. You liked your outfit. You’d sewn the plaid skirt yourself out of one of the flannels that your brother outgrew, and even if the pleats were difficult, you managed.
As you walked, boots crunching against the ground, you spotted something. A small clearing, just off the trail. The pull in your chest made your feet wander, through the grouping of skinny trees and into the clearing. There were still trees scattered around, though not as tightly grouped together as before.
Somehow, it felt like the sun that had been hiding behind the clouds all day had finally come out, its light directing you to the middle of the clearing. Two trees stood, covered in moss and fallen pine needles. Their branches, however, twisted together, forming a pointed arch.
You smiled, curious as to what happened to make them grow like that. Inching closer, you reached out to touch the bark. The pull in your chest grew, telling you to walk through it. It clouded your mind, like the only thing that made sense to you was that you needed to walk through that arch.
And so, you did.
And everything changed.
You didn’t know what you were expecting when you first walked through the archway. Maybe you were just expecting nothing to happen, that you would walk through and nothing would change and you could get home in time to go to your brother’s band practice.
Instead, a wonderful feeling washed over you, and you felt incredible. Well, you felt incredible until your face came into contact with someone’s chest. You stumbled, breathless from the contact, when a pair of arms wrapped around your torso and caught you.
The boy in front of you looked you up and down as you caught your balance, his eyebrows furrowed as he asked, “Who are you?”
“I could ask the same about you,” you said. You looked him up and down, noting his accent and expensive dress. There was no mistaking the crown he so casually wore on his head. “Did I stumble into some sort of costume party? Or did I somehow teleport to Buckingham Palace?”
“I’m sorry?” He asked. “Ma’am, are you okay? You’re in Cair Paravel.”
“What the hell is a ‘Cair Paravel?’ And who are you?”
The boy’s lips tugged into a smile, somewhere between coy and understanding. “I’m High King Peter, the Magnificent.” You looked at him, one eyebrow raised. He coughed, readjusting his stance. “I’m Peter. Peter Pevensie.”
His words no longer carried the royal air, and he now spoke just as he was - an awkward 17-year-old.
You couldn’t help the smile that crossed your face. “Well, then, Peter Pevensie, High King, could you tell me exactly what happened to me? I was just trying to get home from school and I ended up, well, here.”
Peter’s brows furrowed, like he knew something you didn’t. And it didn’t look like it was something good. The boy motioned to the corridor behind you and lightly rested his hand at the small of your back, walking you through the intricately designed halls of what must be his castle.
When he finally came to a stop, it was at a dark oak door, held together with metal near the top and bottom. It all felt too medieval to you, but when he opened the door, things got weirder. A boy, not much younger than Peter, two girls, one very obviously older than the other, and a centaur were gathered around a table, poring over a map.
The older of the girls looked up, annoyance clear in her features. “Peter, there you are! We’ve been waiting for you for-” she stopped when she finally saw you, standing to Peter’s left.
You couldn’t help but hold your hand up in a half-assed wave, a tight smile on your lips. You prayed they saw it as polite and not uncomfortable.
“Who’s this?” The younger girl asked, her words slow and curious as she smiled.
“This is… um, you know what- I never got your name.”
You laughed, smiling at the boy and trying to forget the anxiety building in your stomach. “I’m Y/n. Y/n Peters. And I’d very much like to know how I got here and how I can get back home.”
The other three royals shared a look before the darker-haired boy said, “Orieus, excuse us for a moment?”
With a slight bow, the centaur - you couldn’t believe you were even looking at one, let alone that they were real - left through a door on the left wall. Peter motioned for you to step inside and you did, boots scuffing against the stone floor as he escorted you to an empty chair. The map on the table wasn’t a map of anywhere that looked familiar, and your head began to swim as you read unusual words on it, places you don’t recall existing.
“Y/n?” The eldest girl called, forcing your gaze to snap from the map up to where she sat across from you.
Now that you looked at them, they were all dressed the same, but distinctly different. The girls wore dresses, thin yet elegant, with velvet torsos and front pieces that were dark, where the sleeves and sides of the skirts were a lighter shade. The older girl wore a silver tiara, whereas the younger girl’s was gold, both designed to look like leaves.
The boys both wore crowns, the dark haired boy’s crown was silver, whereas Peter’s was gold. Peter wore a light blue velvet overshirt, whereas his counterpart’s shirt was darker.
“Can you tell us what happened?”
“I can try,” you shrugged. Everyone was dressed so differently than you, and you wanted your special skirt to magically grow to reach the floor. “I was walking home, in the woods behind my neighborhood. It was later than normal, and I never walk home in the woods. Now that I think about it, I don’t think I ever will again. But I found this clearing and there were these two trees, and their branches formed some sort of arch, or something - anyway, I walked through it, and now I’m here, which is weird because I didn’t think anything would actually happen.”
Again, the four shared a look, and you knew something was wrong.
“Well, Y/n,” the older girl said. “I’m Susan. Susan Pevensie. You’ve met my brother, Peter. This is our younger brother, Edmund,” she pointed to the dark haired boy, who nodded at you, “and this is our younger sister, Lucy.” Lucy waved excitedly, a bright smile on her face.
“Nice to meet you guys,” you told them. “But does anyone know when I can go home? My brother’s gonna start to worry if I don’t get back soon. Especially because I always go to band practice with him and I never miss his band practice.”
“What’s band practice?” Asked Lucy.
Edmund sent her a short glare. “Lu, that’s not the point right now.” He scolded, though he did look a little curious.
“What’s important,” Susan stressed, bringing your attention back to her, “is that… you can’t go back.”
You felt the color drain from your face. “What?”
“You can’t go back.” Susan repeated. “The same thing that’s happened to you, it happened to us, too. We’ve been here for four years, and we haven’t found a way back yet, either.”
“Your Highness,” Luisa called. “Your Highness, it’s your husband.”
Turning away from the view that never failed to captivate you, you found Luisa, your maid, standing in the doorway. Politely, you smiled as you asked, “What’s he done now?”
“Nothing bad, Your Highness,” she assured, “he just wanted to talk to you about something. He didn’t say what.”
Nodding, you began following her through the courtyard. “Of course. As long as it doesn’t take too long, he knows I have places to be.” Luisa turned, heading down the south entrance of the courtyard, while you continued into the west entrance.
Every step echoed through the empty halls, your heels growing uncomfortable under your dress. Even after eleven years, you were never quite used to the way your clothes felt. When you first arrived, your dresses were thinner and comfortable, but after you married Peter, the skirts grew in volume, the colors got more rich, and there were more silks and velvets woven into your wardrobe.
As you passed through the archway that led into the western wing, there was a split second when cold washed over you. A shiver traveled down your spine, making you close your eyes to embrace it. But when you opened them, you were no longer in the castle.
Turning around, you expected to see the perfect spring weather shining through the glass roof of the courtyard. Instead, you were faced with a warped archway made of tree branches. The memories came flooding back, as if you’d never even left the place you used to call home.
The breath was stripped from your lungs in an instant. Gone were the sunny days in the royal garden, the constant smell of sea salt wafting gently into your chambers. No more silk and velvet dresses, balls, or diplomatic missions. No Peter, no Susan, no Edmund, no Lucy. Everything you had was gone, replaced with the life you had completely forgotten about.
Looking down, you realized that the outfit you were wearing when you first left, the one you’d tucked away in the very back of your wardrobe in Cair Paravel, was back. The pleated skirt made of your brother’s flannel, combat boots with fishnets, and the Sunset Curve shirt and leather jacket have all - somehow - followed you back.
When you finally recovered from the shock, you found your way back to the forest path to wander back home. You remembered hearing Lucy recount what she could remember about when she first found the wardrobe, and how no time at all had passed. You hoped that was the case for you, too, but you could only be sure by finding your way back to your house.
The crunch of the leaves beneath your feet was the only comfort that could currently calm the anxiety in your chest. Not knowing how much time passed in this world was eating at you, killing you softly.
It was only when you reached the beachfront that you realized how screwed you were. Instead of homes, empty space and stores occupied the neighborhood you once lived in. The smell of sea salt comforted you, as did the sound of the waves crashing against the sand. It was the only constant in both worlds, and you were glad that at least you had something to hold on to.
Although the sea was comforting, it did nothing to stop the flood of heartbreak when you realized that your home had been replaced by a bike shop, your parents and brother nowhere to be found. Trying to hold it together, you moved on, walking from the bike shop that stood where your childhood used to be.
You didn’t stop walking until you found the place on the beach where you used to spend all your time with your friends. The sun was beginning to set, painting the sky and water an array of beautiful colors. You sat on the sand, crossing your legs and taking off your backpack, finding your Walkman resting on the bottom.
The device was loaded with a mixtape Alex had made you, composed of however many songs he could fit on it that you both loved to sing along to. As you listened to the songs, watching the few people that were left on the beach, you couldn’t stop your mind from wondering what they were doing. Most people carried devices that were thinner and taller than your Walkman, with bright screens. Some held them up to their ears, so you assumed they were using phones, but you were confused as to how compact they had become - and exactly how much time had passed for you to reach a time where phones fit in your pocket.
You were interrupted from your mixtape not long after the sky began to truly darken. A girl had tapped you on the shoulder, a curious but worried look on her face as she stood behind you. It was only when you paused the device and slipped the headphones around your neck that you realized that there was no one on the beach anymore.
“Can I help you?” You asked, tucking your Walkman back in your bag.
“Sorry if I interrupted you, but I just-” she scratched the back of her neck, “I noticed that you were still here and everyone else went home and I just thought- maybe you needed someone to talk to or something,”
You couldn’t help the shock on your face. “It’s funny that you say that, you know.” You smiled, standing up and slinging your bag over your shoulder. “I, uh- a lot happened to me today, you know? I mean, I don’t know where I’m supposed to go, or-or what to do, really.” Why were you telling a stranger this? “I’m sorry, you don’t need to hear this.”
“No, no, it’s okay.” The girl assured you. “I’m Julie, by the way. Do you have anywhere to stay tonight?”
“Oh, I’m sure I’ll find a shelter nearby or something.” You said. “There’s gotta be one close by, right?”
You watched Julie’s mouth pull into a frown. “You could come stay with my family for the night.” You tried to protest. After all, you’d only just met this girl, and she was already offering so much. “No, no, don’t worry. Let me call my dad and ask him, I’m sure he’ll say yes. He’s sort of done it before, so…”
With a guilty heart, you watched Julie pull out her phone and call her dad. Even though you only heard one side of the conversation, the joy in Julie’s tone and elation on her face as she hung up with her father told you everything you needed to know. You had a place to stay for the night.
“He said you could stay as long as you’d like.” She smiled, though it was abruptly replaced by furrowed brows as she said, “Oh, my God, I totally forgot. What’s your name?”
You laughed. She reminded you of Reggie. “Y/n. My name’s Y/n.”
The girl smiled and told you that she liked your name, before pulling you by the wrist and dragging you all the way to her house. You quite liked the way it was decorated - at least, on the outside - full of shrubbery and plants. Before bringing you into the actual home, Julie led you into the backyard, where an all too familiar garage rested in the back. You supposed the new plants in the front had transformed the house so much that you hadn’t connected the dots.
“There’s some guys I want you to meet.” Julie told you as she led you through the gates. “I’m in a band with them, and they’re… a little weird, if I’m being honest. You’ll see what I mean in a minute.”
She let go of your wrist and pulled the garage doors open, revealing a completely transformed - and void of people - studio. It was so different from what you were used to, but you were glad that the couch you spent so much time sitting on was still there.
Despite the room being empty, Julie spoke out into the air. “Guys, this is-”
Somehow, three teenage boys appeared a few feet from you, cutting Julie’s sentence short. The boy in the middle, an all too familiar figure, breathed out a simple word. “Y/n.”
Tears fought their way to your waterline, as they did Reggie’s. He looked the same as he did when you saw him after school, supposedly such a long time ago. Letting your bag slip to the floor, you looked between the three boys that meant so much to you, not missing the fact that a certain someone wasn’t there with them.
Without a second thought, though, you stepped forward, nearly crashing into your brother’s body. Your arms went under his, gripping at his leather jacket as his arms twisted around your shoulders. Feeling the leather of his jacket against your cheek was a comfort you haven’t had for eleven years, and it was one that you sorely missed. Neither of you stopped the tears that streamed from your eyes, happy to have each other back.
After you had similar reunions with both Alex and Luke, Julie spoke up. “How do you guys know each other?”
“She’s Reggie’s little sister,” Alex said, “the one he wouldn’t talk about, remember? The sticker on his bass?”
Julie nodded, seeming to understand. Your lips broke into a smile, thinking back to the honeybee sticker you’d put on Reggie’s bass one summer. Even though he was mad at you for it, he refused to take it off, and instead got a guitar strap to match it.
Reggie guided you back to the couch, already knowing how many questions you would have. The first one you blurted out, though, was, “What year is it? I mean, mom and dad’s house is gone, and people have phones that fit in their pockets, and- how are you guys here? Where’s Bobby?”
Your eyes widened, shock freezing your body. “2021? Then how are you guys-? You should be in your forties!”
The boys shared a look, Alex coming to sit on your left, Luke sitting on the arm of the couch next to Reggie. “We died, Y/n,” Alex started.
“Almost 26 years ago.” Luke continued. “We were about to play at the Orpheum, and we ate bad hotdogs, and we just-” he looked down at his hands for a moment. “Julie brought us back a few months ago. A lot’s happened since then.”
“And Bobby? Is he-” you took a deep breath. “Did Bobby die too?”
“No.” Reggie told you. “He didn’t come out with us. He’s famous now, he has a daughter and a helicopter and a really big house.”
You nodded, watching Julie come sit on the chair beside Luke, who rested his hand on her shoulder. “If that was 25 years ago, then how did I end up here? I mean, I spent eleven years in Narnia and I came back 25 years after I left, but it’s like I never did.”
“What the hell is a Narnia?”
“It’s- hard to explain, really,” you told Alex, before turning to Reggie. “If I only came back just now, then what did mom and dad do? What happened to me?”
Reggie tensed. “They reported you missing the second I got home and you weren’t with me. It broke mom and dad, you know. Worse than before. It only took the police four months to declare you dead. They stopped looking for you, and because you just disappeared, they had nothing to go on, so they thought that saying you were dead was what was best.” He exhaled a shaky breath, and you took his hand to assure him that you were still here. “A month later, we died. I don’t think they could cope with it, y’know? Losing both of their kids so fast.”
More tears built along your waterline, but you had no time to focus on them when Luke asked, “You said you were in a place called ‘Narnia?’ Where even is that?”
“It’s- not here, exactly.” You started. “I was taking this shortcut home through the woods that some of the other kids in our neighborhood took. I wanted to make it back so I could get to your band practice, and I felt this sort of… I dunno, a pull? Like something was calling out to me. And I found this clearing, with these trees, and they were all twisted and it looked like an archway, so I went through it. I didn’t think it would do anything, but the next thing I knew… I was in a castle and I bumped into this guy and it all just-”
“Take a breath, N/n,” Reggie told you, rubbing his hand across your back. “You’re okay.”
You looked up from your hands, eyes darting between the four people before landing on your brother. “I’m not okay, Reg. I had a life, I built a life with someone. I grew up, I got married. I wore expensive dresses and made decisions about a whole country every day. What am I supposed to do now?” The confusion on everyone’s faces made you sigh. “Narnia is a country. It’s not a country here, obviously. Everything there’s medieval there. Royalty, candle-lit rooms, courts and big wooden ships and all that. Reg, I learned how to ride a horse.”
“Really?” The awe that carried his words was adorable, and one of the many things you missed about your brother. You smiled, but the nagging at the back of your mind was killing you.
“Yeah, I did.” No one missed the sadness dripping from your words as you bit your lip, looking back at your hands as you picked at your fingers. Despite the utter joy that you felt at the fact that you were finally with your brother again, the waves of sorrow were stronger. You couldn’t fight the sobs that started to shake your body as the dam broke.
All three boys rushed to attempt to comfort you, but it was Alex who asked what was wrong, and gave you the opportunity to finally say what had been nagging at the back of your mind. “You know how I told you I got married?”
“What about it?” Luke questioned, brows furrowed.
“My husband’s name was Peter. He was the first person that I met when I got there, and he was the most understanding. Him and his siblings were the ones ruling, but it was sort of odd. All of them were Kings and Queens, not Princes and Princesses like it is in Britain.”
Alex shrugged. “Well, the British Royal Family is messed up, anyway.”
You laughed. “That’s true. But he was the oldest, so he was what they called a ‘High King’. He had two sisters and a brother, and all of them are truly amazing people.” You told them. “They helped me through a lot. But after a while, my memories of here started fading, and their memories of home did, too. I remembered I had a brother and that I went to school, but I barely remembered anything past that. And I got back here and I remembered everything again.” Reggie’s eyes cast down, and you squeezed his hand. “Believe it or not, there’s more.”
“Seriously?” Luke chimed.
“I was there for like, eleven years, Luke. Of course there’s more.” You said, a temporary smile painting itself onto your face. When your mind wandered back to what you wanted to say, your shoulders sagged. “Peter and I have been married for five or so years now. And about four months ago…” you sucked in a large breath, bowing your head and fighting tears. “About four months ago, we had a son.”
A collective gasp rang through the room. Looking up, you picked at your fingers. “We named him Reginald, but I always called him ‘Reg’ or ‘Reggie’. I was adamant that he had that name, but I never knew exactly why I did it until I came back. And now,” you paused, swallowing a sob, “now I’m here and he’s there. He doesn’t have a mother anymore.”
You allowed yourself to break further, to rest your arms on your knees and press the heels of your palms into your eyes. Everything you had slipped away in mere seconds, and you didn’t know how to get back.
Arms held you close, a hand rubbed along your back in an attempt to comfort you. None of it worked, but you were grateful that your family was able to hold you as you cried, mourned for the life you didn’t mean to leave behind. For the son who’d never remember his mother, for the husband who’d never know what became of his wife. For the country that would never know where their matriarch went.
The life you had led was torn from you too quickly, like someone pulling a rug from under your feet. The uncertainty of being able to go back - or even coming back exactly when you left, as if nothing happened - stuttered your breaths. There was no going back, no matter how desperate you were.
Everything you built was gone in the blink of an eye, and you were left in ruins.
theartofmadeline
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
yousharknotpass
areudirty
prguitarman
discoholicmusic
stormborns
ellievsbear
