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Blackwater, everything feels just a little too polished, like a town trying very hard to prove it belongs to the future, even while the past still clings to its edges.
The streets are wide and orderly, packed down by carriage wheels and the steady rhythm of progress. Wooden boardwalks run neatly along storefronts, keeping boots clean from the mud that still gathers at the edges of the road. There’s a constant hum, voices overlapping, horses snorting, wagon wheels creaking, and somewhere in the distance, the faint whistle of industry creeping closer. It’s not loud in the way a frontier town is loud; it’s controlled, purposeful, almost rehearsed.
Buildings stand taller here than they have any right to be in the middle of the West—painted facades, glass windows that catch the sun, and signs that promise banking, law, and opportunity. The scent of fresh lumber mixes with cigar smoke and river air drifting in from the docks. That river is the town’s lifeline, carrying in goods, people, and change. Always change.
But beneath that refinement, there’s tension.
Lawmen walk with straighter backs, their eyes sharper, as if they expect trouble before it even begins. Conversations dip into hushed tones when certain names are mentioned. People dress nicer, speak cleaner but their hands still hover a little too close to their holsters. It’s a place caught between two worlds: not quite wild, not fully tame.
By evening, the golden light softens everything, turning the town almost beautiful. Lamps flicker to life along the streets, and the saloons begin to glow warm and inviting. Laughter spills out through swinging doors, piano keys dancing over the noise. Yet even then, there’s a sense that something is waiting just beneath the surface. A memory of violence, or the promise of it.
Blackwater isn’t just a town.
It’s a turning point.
A place where outlaws start to feel out of place…
and where the world they belong to is quietly slipping away.
Where Y/n Holmes was that same evening.
Luna trotted slowly toward the town. The slow pace where you took it as a precaution. You can feel the tension in the town even though you haven't gone back to the town yet. The feeling that after a month of the massacre is still lingering. Pinkertons and law camping around the opening. Not once did they recognize you or they did recognize, only they were not warned to arrest you.
You don't know if Milton said anything about this because during the trip to Blackwater, a few Pinkertons did share a look at you but they didn't do anything. They just.. Walked past you as if you were a normal person. A person who didn't cooperate with the most violent outlaw gangs.
That's.. That's good, right?
Or Milton didn't say anything about the last time he encountered you with the others because to him, one warning from him you might have run away to which you didn't.
As good as this situation is now, it doesn't mean no other law after you. The so-called army people. You are sure that they are one division with Ford. Like Dhani shared. Same army force
Granger probably said this if his soldiers were suddenly on your back since you stepped into Blackwater for the first time without you knowing.
He knows you.
You know that but like Sherlock once said don't act recklessly. You need evidence to drop him to which coming back to Blackwater might be one of them. That and find out who killed your brother.
Sherrinford found something that made the whole division burning. And that something is what? The records are all suspiciously clean as if someone is trying to hide something. The thing is, what did he discover? How long has he discovered this? How much did he discover?
Is he working on it alone?
Whatever, that's the reason you came back to Blackwater. If you find what you want. Might visit the police station to meet an old friend.
It's been a month since you went to Blackwater. The last time was a bit unpleasant but thankfully Mrs Morris was fine. Just a bit of a shock. Hell she's not even there when the fire started. Thankfully. And so was you.
Those people who burned your flat must have calculated your move. But why didn't they do it while you were in the flat? That's — That's strange. As if they just wanted to destroy the evidence rather than kill you. Like whoever gave the orders surely wanted you to live.
For what?
Final problem?
Ironic.
You lead Luna to the police station compound. The town is in a normal state after the massacre. Arthur himself tells you that the gang did cause all this but he himself along with Hosea and Dhani were not in the plan. They three had other plans going on at the same time the massacre happened.
But from what he tells you, well, Javier tells him and he tells you that they don't expect the law alongside Pinkerton to do it as quickly as if someone set them up for it. But he knows that Micah did mention something about robbing a ferry to Dutch. Coaxing him to take that so-called opportunity. He and Dhani have long suspected that there is something wrong with Micah but they can't do anything.
It's just Micah being Micah.
Know him for six months anyways.
But you. Well, Micah always has bad vibes about him that you can't just place what it is. The long conversation with him before was a bit suspicious when he mentioned fire and a scarf around his neck. But well, if he killed Ford. You need solid evidence to confront him.
You can't just attack him without reason. Sherlock always taught you that. If you know who the suspect is, you can't just attack them. You need a strategy on how to attack them. Mentally of course. Make them rattle.
If Sherlock was in your place. He probably deduced Micah on the spot with confidence but you're not him so you need to get solid evidence before attacking Micah or anyone involved.
So far, your journey has been uninterrupted. Everything goes smoothly like a wind. The best times for you to think about your plan are when you are in Blackwater. Now that you hitched Luna to the post and entered the police station.
Oswald Dunbar, the Officer on duty in the police department here looked up from his report. His eyes landed on you and he immediately stood up in surprise. Recognizing you.
He laughed. "I’ll be damned. Miss Holmes. What a surprise to see you back in Blackwater" he walked towards you.
You smirked. "well, Officer Dunbar. Nice to see you again. Nice wedding I believe?" you noted towards the ring on Oswald's finger.
He smiled. "You should see Edith in a suit"
You chuckled. "Ah, well. I miss it, don't I?" you paused for a moment. "Where is he, anyway?"
Oswald nodded before he walked towards the table. "He is at Tall Trees now. Lately, there has been an attack around there. Best stay away from the Tall Trees area as of now." he informed before he took a seat at his desk and looked up at you. "So, what are you doing here? A case maybe? Like always. We got plenty lately" he gestured towards the piling files on the other table.
You shook your head. "I would love to, but I have other things to attend too" you looked at him sorry.
Oswald frowned. "That's strange. You never reject such opportunities"
You shook your head with a smile before you moved and sat on the chair in front of Oswald. You looked around the place with interest. Taking note of the new things they added.
"When is he coming back?" You asked, referring to Edith's absence.
Oswald replied without looking at you, instead his eyes focused on the report, busy writing it. "Probably night. His shift ends at 1 am."
You frowned. "that's probably overtime. When does he start his shift?"
Oswald hummed. "He starts work at 10 am. Well, with what happened months ago. I think we all work overtime"
You looked at him with sympathy. Of course it was because of what happened months ago. Those tragedies leave a very fatal scar on this town. A black history.
"And those Pinkertons also gave you a handful of trouble here, I believe," you added.
Dunbar sighed. "Very" he rubbed his nose. "Anyway, I'm just gonna finish my reports, you well, you settle in here I guess. You know the drills"
You smirked. Putting down your satchel on Dunbar's desk. Away from some important reports Dunbar needed to finish. You walked around the police station with interest.
Some of the things were new and old. Some looked clean and some a bit dusty. The jail also looked a little upgraded like new beds. It looked clean but still the cells still had a lot of dirt on the walls and floors. Well, the prisoners couldn't be too comfortable in jail, right?
You pursed your lips and looked at Dunbar who was focused on his work. You didn't want to bother him but if you had to wait for Edith here for a long time without doing anything you could go crazy. You needed to do something. Something to pass the time. Something to distract your boredom.
Case.
You needed a case. Why did you reject Dunbar's offer anyway? You cursed under your breath and slowly walked back to Dunbar's desk.
You looked at him with a mix of guilt and hesitation in your heart.
"uh, Dunbar?" you called hesitantly.
Dunbar looked up from his work. He raised his eyebrow. "yes, Miss Holmes?"
"about the case... Uh, mind if I take a look? " you looked at him nervously. Hands fidgeting with each other.
Dunbar blinked a few times before he shook his head and chuckled to himself. "yeah. Which one?"
"uh.. all of them?"
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Edith sighed as he hitched his trusty horse to the post in front of the police station. He rolled his shoulders a few times trying to relieve the tension in his shoulders. It was a tough case. Tall Trees is famous for their own tall trees there along with animals and hunters who lived there. It was kind of isolated with the atmosphere of the city unlike Blackwater.
No noise of construction, people or the sound of people working. It was just quiet there. With only nature to be the companion of the people there. Mostly those who live there are hunters or people who want to start a new life or people who want to get away from the city atmosphere.
Also it was kind of lonely there. People there just get on with their day like normal. With no compliance from the residents. Only it's a bit strange when they report there's a murder going around there.
Shocking coming from a place that is popular with its story.
It was late at night in Blackwater that Edith finally returned to the police station. Kind of late that he still has to run the rest of his duties before off duty for the day. It was nothing new to him. Coming home late. His wife used to him coming home late. HIs sweet Marilyn.
Oh, god what would he do if he could be in his wife's arms. The wife he was with for 5 years. The one he fell in love with.
They never had a child. Even after 5 years of marriage. They did talk about it from time to time but with work and all. Those same thoughts need to be put on hold. Not after what happened a few months ago.
Those outlaws. The Van Der Linde gang.
Pinkerton already took over it so he couldn't do anything but let those government agents take over the case. He also heard that the same gang caused chaos in Valentine. Something to do with Cornwall's company.
The same outlaws who keep on robbing him. At this point Edith will not be surprised if Cornwall hires those agents to arrest them.
Well, even the Pinkerton take over the case doesn't mean the police don't have to do anything. They're just here to investigate the outlaws' whereabouts. It doesn't mean the crime rate here is decreasing. It still increases from time to time. Which is why he and his other employees have to end their shifts a little later.
Which is always. The reports and all. Those piling files. It just gets more and more. Not like before.
Well, before Miss Holmes found a new place like Mrs. Morris mentioned. Oh, what should he do to bring her back to help him. He's not helpless or desperate. It just some cases end up cold. He missed some detail that only Holmes can see. That same person that he always prevented from interrupting police work.
The same person who came to him with a newspaper asking him about the murder case for the first time. That case alone made her famous until Edith discovered that she was related to the infamous Consulting Detective in London.
Those determined look. The one he hesitated at first but at the end he let her do the job. She doesn't take any credit. Instead she gives the credit to him for solving the case. That alone makes him too famous around here. Thanks to her.
Well, things happened. These past few months, it's not exactly a good or a bad month. Those outlaws around here will not survive a day here due to being heavily guarded by Pinkerton. They're still trying to find Dutch Van Der Linde and his goons.
The crime rate? Not so much. Still there. Which is why he and his colleagues have a late shift to finish.
He sighed as he adjusted his coat. Both hands were put in the coat pocket before one hand held the door knob of the police station. The door opened. Sergeant Edith Williams entered with a professional mannerism that his employees knew by the glance.
Firm, calm and guarded.
All that was forgotten when his eyes landed on the person who was slamming a file on Dunbar's desk.
A sense of familiarity hits him. Hard. When he sees the person he just thought about earlier.
"It's the son. Arrest him and punish him with a fair sentence. Reason, he killed his step mother because he thought his father would give all the property to his step mother. Also, The father cheated on her. He's a playboy. He loves women. Obviously"
"That's... Shocking" Dunbar muttered in disbelief.
You nodded. Already open another file before responding to Dunbar's statement. "yes. Shocking." You frowned and rolled your eyes after you read the contents of this file.
"ugh, suicide. The note he made was just a joke to his friend. Not murder. He accidentally drank a bottle of clean fluid that he thought was water after his maid cleaned the table. Slash the murder and replace it with suicide" you stated.
Dunbar blinked. "How is that possible? you were not at the scene"
"Ugh, Dunbar. The letter. Overly theatrical. 'By the time you read this, I will be gone. Forgive me.'" you exhale sharply through your nose. "No hesitation marks in the writing, no ink blots, no trembling hand. Whoever wrote this was perfectly calm... amused, even." you flip the evidence clipped in the file.
"The victim did not expect to die. If he had, he would not have chosen such an inelegant method. Nor would he compose a letter so... melodramatic. Besides, the paper has a faint chemical smell." you ended.
Dunbar blinked a few times before he snapped his mind and nodded. Hand already took the pen to slash the correction in the file.
You hummed with satisfaction. Edith walked slowly towards where you were with hesitation. Dunbar's eyes snapped to him and he sat down straight.
"Sergeant. You're back" Dunbar stood up and saluted him.
Edith nodded towards Dunbar. "yeah just done looking at the scene" his eyes focused on you who was seemingly intently reading another file.
He cleared his throat making you snap and turned to him. Yup, that's you.
"i'll be damned" he blurted.
You rolled your eyes. "you're not the first person to be damned when you see me"
Dunbar snorted. Edith rolled his eyes. Yup, he knew that.
"So uh, when are you coming back?" he crossed his arms.
"this evening. Apparently, you got lots of unsolving and fixing cases here" you leaned back in your chair. Your face showed a smug smile at him.
Edith exhaled. He shook his head and walked to his office. "come on"
If you're here. It's personal. Personal means his office where no other ears can hear what you have to say to him.
You smiled broadly before graciously standing up and brushing your outfit from the imaginary dust and nodding to Dunbar gratefully before following Edith to his office like a chick following its mother.
The office door opened, Edith walked towards his desk and landed heavily on his chair. You walked and closed the office door. Eyes looked at all the contents in his office. His batch, files, books, pictures, etc. Things that only a police officer has in his office.
Edith sighed. "it's been a long time since I last saw ya"
You turned your gaze to him. "Yes. Months"
"Right," he nodded. "sit" he ordered.
You smiled. "I don't like taking orders"
"Just sit and speak now." he looked at you tiredly.
"Okay" you sat down. Hands are placed on the table. "right. I speak then"
Edith crossed his arms. "where have you been?"
"I don't think this is the same topic I want to talk about," you replied.
Edith sighed heavily. "cut the bullshit. Where have you been? Mrs Morris is worried about you." he held up one finger. "i know that she said you had somewhere else to stay but at least visit Mrs Morris. She's been nothing but a person who helped you a lot before, you know?"
you sighed. "I know. It's just.. It's complicated."
"what's not complicated?" he leaned forward. "listen, you got all of us worried. Disappeared suddenly and no news. And suddenly you reappeared like nothing happened"
You tapped your finger on the table. A sense of guilt welled up inside you. "i.. uh. Sorry. Sorry I disappeared and made you all worry about me. You see, I'm not very familiar with this but. I appreciate you worrying about me. Which I find strange considering you seem relieved to see me right now."
Edith shook his head. He seemed done with this. He leaned his head back on the chair with eyes closing as he sighed tiredly,
He opened his eyes again and looked at you with a tired expression. He tsked.
"To hell with this. Now speak. What do you want?"
You nodded. "right yes. Back to my topic." you rubbed your hands together. " I want a report on the train ambush that happened last year involving Captain Sherrinford Holmes' death"
Edith frowned. "your brother?"
You nodded. "yes, my brother. Like I told you. I'm still on it"
Edith didn't answer immediately.
The shift in the room was almost physical like the air itself had tightened.
He leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing just slightly as he studied you. Not as a friend this time. Not as the woman who had helped him close impossible cases.
But as someone asking for something dangerous.
"Miss Holmes..." he said slowly, voice quieter now, measured. "That report isn't exactly... public reading."
You tilted your head, expression calm but expectant. "Neither am I."
A corner of his mouth twitched despite himself, but it didn't last.
He leaned forward, forearms resting on the desk, fingers lacing together.
"That ambush," he continued, "was handled by the military first. By the time it reached us, most of it was already... processed." He paused, choosing the word carefully. "Or cleaned."
Your eyes sharpened at that.
"Cleaned," you repeated softly.
"Files came in thin," Edith added. "Too thin. Statements missing. Timelines... inconsistent. Half the witnesses either 'relocated' or suddenly couldn't remember a damn thing." He exhaled through his nose. "I didn't like it then. I like it even less now."
You leaned forward slightly, mirroring him.
"Who signed off on it?"
Edith hesitated.
That was all the confirmation you needed.
"Edith."
He rubbed his jaw, gaze drifting briefly to the closed door before returning to you.
“…Colonel Beckett Granger.”
There it was.
The name settled between you like a loaded gun.
Your fingers are still on the table.
So Dhani was right.
So your instincts were right.
So Sherlock—
No. Focus.
“Do you still have the report?” you asked, voice steady despite the storm tightening in your chest.
Edith didn't answer right away, instead he stood up and walked towards the cabinet behind him. The metal drawer creaked open, and he shuffled through a set of files—older ones, tucked far deeper than the rest.
Hidden.
Not discarded.
Interesting.
He pulled one out.
Thicker than you expected.
But not thick enough.
Edith returned to the desk and dropped it in front of you with a quiet thud.
"I kept a copy," he said. "Off the record."
You slowly reach it as if its contents are a bomb when in fact it is far worse than that.
The files themselves are neither old nor new. The cover is still intact with its yellow color still. What catches your attention is how thin it is. As if there is only one record from it. Is this how Sherlock found the record in the War Archive? Thin.
"this is what we got after.Like i said, cleaned and some of the information, statement missing. Timeline inconsistent. Those military treat the case as a regular ambush case."
You opened the file cover. One by one the contents inside it were taken out and placed on the table.
One by one you read it.
Date.
Timeline.
Location.
routes,
Names.
Some of them redacted. Some of them seemed off. The last statement itself is a bit different from what the police officers told you in London.
"he died because he saved a pregnant woman"
Where's that statement then? No mention of that pregnant lady in it. Instead it says.
Shot dead.
You exhale sharply. "it's a bit different from what I got from Sherlock." you frowned.
A map of the rail line, marked in red ink.
Your mind started moving, fast, precise, relentless.
"Four carriages," you murmured. "Military escort positioned at the rear instead of the front... odd."
"Thought so too," Edith muttered.
"Ambush occurred at a bend," you continued, flipping the page. "Limited visibility. Predictable slowdown."
"no witness is written in this"
"That's what we got. At first we refused to take this as the case closed because of the lack of information but the military itself said like they already take care of it so what we got is some of the 'truth' from them. Some of the things they have solved within their own regiment." Edith stated. "Like I said, the military got there first before us so what we got was the leftovers from them."
You didn't say anything. Eyes read some information that was redacted and missing. Only one statement catches your eye.
"...No defensive formation."
Edith frowned. "What?"
You tapped the page.
"No repositioning. No attempt to secure the perimeter before engagement." Your gaze lifted to him, sharp. "They walked into it."
Silence.
Edith straightened slightly. "You're saying—"
"I'm saying," you cut in calmly, "this was not just an ambush."
You turned to another page.
"—it was expected."
The word falls heavily.
Edith exhaled sharply. "this is a serious claim, Holmes"
"an accurate one" you replied coolly. "Sherlock finds out that Ford was reassigned. Not for protocol, nor accident. The internal memo he found? misfiled, of course. Places him on escort duty for an ammunition delivery, just one day before his death. That reassignment came under the direct authority of-"
"-Colonel Beckett Granger" Edith ended.
“Yes” you nodded firmly and final.
You slid the file slightly towards him, pointing at a section.
"Look here. Response time from nearby units. Delayed."
"Here, communication lines 'failed' at the exact moment of attack. Plus someone altered the guard routes twenty four hours before his death"
"And here-" you tapped again, more firmly now, "-Captain Sherrinford Holmes separated from the main group."
Edith leaned in, eyes scanning faster now.
"...Yeah," he muttered. "Says he broke formation during the chaos."
"No," you said.
Your voice was quiet.
Certain.
"He was isolated."
A beat.
Then another.
Edith looked up at you slowly.
"On purpose?"
You met his gaze.
"Yes."
The room fell silent again, heavier this time.
Outside, faintly, the muffled sounds of the station carried on boots on wood, distant voices, the world continuing as if nothing had just shifted.
"There was never a civilian on the train" Edith muttered.
"indeed"
"And the scarf? The one piece of evidence you got before? The people who are after you? Does it have anything to do with what you got?"
Micah. And those formal looking suits men.
Dammit. How come you forget them? The scarf itself is on Micah. The notes, the encounters.
"Always," you replied lightly, although your gaze had already dropped back to the file.
Deflection.
Clean.
Efficient.
But not enough to completely ease him.
He leaned back, watching you now instead of the paper. “Holmes…”
Before he could press further-
A knock.
Sharp.
Twice.
Both of you froze.
Then-
"Sergeant?" Dunbar's voice came through the door. "Someone's here"
Both of you didn't move. The files were still scattered on the table before Edith's attention snapped to the office door.
"Who?"
"uh, woman. Late thirties. Say something about the same attack around Tall Trees" Dunbar replied trying to calm down the sobbing woman.
"my husband. He.. Oh god" she sobbed.
Edith turned his gaze to you and pointed to the file on the table. "take it"
"It's illegal to take police records, you know?" you replied.
"like you've never done anything illegal. Just take it. Solve it. Find out your own justice." Edith stood up. Stepped in line towards the office door.
You didn’t move at first.
Your eyes lingered on the file.
On the thin stack of paper that held more lies than truth.
On your brother’s name buried somewhere between redactions and silence.
Then-
You reached for it.
“Noted,” you muttered dryly as you slipped the file into your satchel.
Edith didn’t look back, but you caught the faintest exhale from him.
Approval.
Or resignation.
Hard to tell with him sometimes.
The moment the file disappeared from sight, you straightened-expression smoothing out, posture shifting back into something lighter, almost disinterested.
By the time Edith opened the door-
You were no longer a sister hunting for answers.
You were just… you.
The door creaked open.
Dunbar stood there, one hand awkwardly hovering near the shoulder of a woman who looked like she might collapse at any second.
Late thirties, like he said.
Hair disheveled, dress slightly torn at the hem as if she hadn’t bothered to fix it after running through rough ground. Her eyes were red, swollen, hands trembling uncontrollably.
Grief.
Raw.
Unfiltered.
“Sergeant,” Dunbar said, relief clear in his voice.
Edith nodded once, stepping forward. “Ma’am. Tell me what happened.”
The woman tried to speak.
Failed.
Her breath hitched violently before she managed. “It’s my husband... He went out this morning. Tall Trees. He didn’t come back. Someone said.. someone said they found-”
She broke again.
Edith’s expression softened, but his tone remained steady. “Alright. Take your time.”
You stepped out of the office quietly, moving just enough to observe without intruding.
Your eyes scanned her.
Mud on the hem. Fresh.
Boots, worn, but not for heavy travel.
Hands, calloused.
A working woman.
Not fragile.
Not usually.
Which meant whatever she saw,
or was told,
was enough to break her composure entirely.
Interesting.
“When was the last time you saw him?” Edith asked.
“This morning,” she said, forcing the words through uneven breaths. “He always goes out early. Hunting. Same route. Same time.” Her voice cracked. “He knows those woods.”
Routine.
Predictable.
Dangerous.
Edith nodded. “Who told you he was found?”
“A man. One of the hunters. He didn’t stay, just said.. said I should come here. Said it weren’t… right…”
Not right.
Your head tilted slightly.
Edith caught it.
He knew that look.
“Where exactly?” he pressed.
“Near the ridge, east side by the broken pine” she wiped her face roughly. “He said it looked like… like an animal did it but…”
“But?” Edith prompted.
The woman shook her head, panic rising again. “He wouldn’t say more. Just told me to get the law”
You stepped forward then.
Quiet.
Measured.
“Did your husband have enemies?” you asked.
Edith shot you a look.
Not now.
You ignored him.
The woman blinked at you, disoriented. “No.. I..no-...he’s just... he hunts. keeps to himself-”
“Any recent arguments? Disputes? Land issues?”
“No!”
Too quick.
Too defensive.
You noted it.
“Holmes-” Edith started.
You lifted a hand slightly.
One second.
Then, softer-
“Did anything change recently?” you asked. “Anything at all.”
The woman hesitated.
There it was.
“…He’s been… uneasy,” she admitted. “Past few days. Said he thought someone was watching the woods.”
Edith frowned.
You didn’t.
Of course.
“Did he say who?” you asked.
She shook her head. “No… just said it didn’t feel right anymore.”
You exchanged a look with Edith.
Not right.
Tall Trees again.
The same place.
The same pattern.
Edith turned back to her, already shifting into action. “Alright. We’re going to head out there now.”
Relief flooded her face instantly.
“Thank you, thank you-”
“Dunbar,” Edith called. “Get two men ready.”
Dunbar nodded and rushed off.
Edith grabbed his coat, already moving.
Then he paused.
Turned to you.
A look.
You knew it.
Stay out of it.
Which, of course, meant-
You smiled faintly.
“I’m coming.”
“No,” he said immediately.
“Yes.”
“Holmes-”
“You have a potential staged animal attack,” you cut in calmly. “In the same area tied to your ongoing case. With a victim who reported being watched before his death.”
A beat.
Then-
“You need me.”
Edith stared at you.
Long.
Tired.
Knowing he’d already lost this argument.
“…You stay close,” he muttered.
Your smile widened just slightly.
“Always.”
Outside, the night had deepened.
Blackwater’s lights flickered behind you as the group prepared to move out - horses saddled, lanterns lit, tension settling in like a familiar weight.
Tall Trees awaited.
And whatever was hiding inside it-
Was starting to feel less like a coincidence…
…and more like a pattern.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
The ride out of Blackwater is quiet in a thousand languages. No jokes among the deputies or giving orders.
The night is late. Dark and ink black with no stars decorate the night atmosphere. Gloomy. Too gloomy.
The dry land ahead does not help this feeling of tension. The silence. The emptiness around the Great Plains. Just a bit unsettling. You glanced at Edith who focused only on the path ahead. Two officers behind kept watching the surroundings.
You straightened your posture above Luna. "How long has this been going on?"
Edith glanced at you. But he didn't answer the question you asked straight away. Instead he kept quiet meaning it had been a long time. Multiple times you believed seeing that he himself wasn't comfortable to answer your questions.
Too ashamed of himself? That's very unlikely of him. Sometimes he can be tricky to read anyways but here, you see everything going on in his mind. His posture, his body language.
The case itself is too overwhelming to him, you notice. Constantly happened.
"How long have you been waiting for this case? The gap after before?" you asked again.
Edith pursed his lips. "every 4 days"
"How many victims so far?"
"3. including this new one" he replied, absently.
You nodded. "same pattern? 'Animal attacks' I mean"
"yup" Edith sighed as the four of you entered the Tall Trees grounds.
Big and tall trees, typically.
There's a few cabins up ahead. After that it's fully forest. Deep forest with various animals of various species. Not a very human thing to live in this place. Except for hunters.
Oh, it's a paradise for hunters here. Lots of games they can get. Big and small. The only thing is whether they are hunting or being hunted. Predator attacks are not uncommon. It's very common, especially this place.
Same reason. Protecting itself, their habitat and their own species from being hunted by hunters. So it's not surprising that prey becomes predators.
The thing is, that woman from before said something to her husband is being watched. Predator animals are known for their stealth and cunning. Their stealth is so expert that even hunters who have lived for years in one place can die from such animal attacks. Stalking is very common among those animals.
They stalk their prey first.
Waiting,
When the time comes, they attack.
Patience is what kills.
They can stalk for a few minutes, hours or even days depending on the victim.
This place.. Bears, cougars and wolves, it's their place. Their habitats, their territories.
They can do whatever the hell they want. The only thing that stops them is humans.
"open chest, they say. The victim died with chest open. Like torn apart. Sometimes lost limbs" Edith's voice broke your daydream. "very gruesome" he shook his head when he remembered the first time it happened.
You didn't answer him right away. Your eyes narrowed as you went through your past cases similar to this one in your mind.
Same pattern. Supposedly animal attack. Chest open… Lost limbs
"Was the body organ still intact?" you asked.
"A post mortem examination reported that all organs in all victims were still intact. No organs missing." Edith replied.
You nodded. "i see. Meaning we're not dealing with organ trafficking." you replied coolly.
Edith glanced at you. "we're dealing with human work?"
You glanced at him. "i dealt with this kind of thing before. Back in London. Similar pattern and all. The only difference is, it only happened to one person. So we're dealing with a serial killer"
One of the officers looked at you unsurely. "not animal attacks?"
"It's not always animal attacks. Animals, like predators, usually finish off their victims. Messy and not recognizable. But. Those victims, you can still know them, right?"
Two officers nodded hesitantly. Edith furrowed his eyebrows.
"You haven't seen the scene yet and you're making a very big assumption." Edith retorted.
You shrugged. "I didn't need to. Like I said, I dealt with this before"
Edith didn't answer. His lips pursed as he heard that. “must be messy"
You grinned. "very"
Their horses slow and soon they reach an opening. Trees and bushes hide this place well. People might overlook it.
You see three people on the scene already. One of them wears a black jacket, dark fast and no hat. The other also wears a black jacket with fur on the collar and dark pants. Soot and dirt are on their clothes. The third hunter, wearing a big brown jacket and racoon hat raised his gaze from the corpse on the ground upon hearing you all arrive there. He slings his rolling block rifle and walks towards Edith. Two men, probably his friends, tailed behind him.
Edith slid off his horse. The two officers and you followed him.
The hunter with a racoon hat stopped in front of Edith. "yer the police?" he said with a thick southern accent.
Edith nodded. "Sergeant Williams. Blackwater Police station" he introduced himself. "These two are my men and this woman is also my.." he paused and looked at you for a moment.
You raised an eyebrow. 'just say it'
"she's my assistant"
You shrugged. Not really care about that anyway.
The hunter tilted his hat to one side in confusion. "they let women work at the police station now?"
Two men behind him scoffed.
You rolled your eyes.
Edith clenched his jaw. Biting back he retorted. "Can we see the body now?"
Into business we go. The hunter stared at him then turned his attention to you and nodded towards where the body was.
You, Edith and two officers followed him from behind. His two friends stood aside.
There was a body. Very recognizable. Pale, lifeless, wide-eyed. Face covered in blood. In fact one body was covered in blood. His shirt was torn open and so was his chest. You can probably see organs still intact inside it. Meaning this man was just left alone. You were a bit surprised to see a very large amount of blood there and yet no animals intervened.
It was a bit lucky. The body itself looked like it had been there for a while. Blood still didn't dry. A lantern not far from the body, still burning and lit. The whole place is dark but thanks to the other lanterns there. You can clearly see the whole scene in the dark.
Edith wore his gloves. Two officers start their work. Tools were taken out to find the odds while you already kneeled next to the body.
Already looking at the big hole in the victim's chest. Clean cut. Bruises on the hand already turning purple. A sign of struggle screams in your mind. Edith grunted as he kneels on the other side of the body.
"How long do you think he's been here?" you asked him
Edith's eyes darted towards the blood. "hours. Judging by the blood that hasn't dried yet."
You nodded. "one hour. If it's been a few hours, the body can attract predators already" you tilted your head to the side, eyes squinting at the arms. "he was struggling"
Edith frowned. "how so?"
"bruises, both arms. He clearly used his arms to stop something or someone." you looked at the hunters.
"how did you find him?" you asked.
The racoon hat replied. "Heard something. A scream. Assume the man was attacked by the bear. Found him already dead" his friends nodded, confirming that statement.
You looked back at the corpse. "not bear" you muttered.
Edith looked at you. "still assume it's a serial killer?"
"not assume. But it's the work of a serial killer. Look at the cut. Clean. The victim probably died before the killer tore open his chest to make it look like an animal attack. His arms only have bruises, no scratch from the bear. The bear won't do this cleanly but the killer does" you explained.
The hunter scoffed. "it's bear. Everyone knows that. The big bastard with a scar on his eye" the racoon hat exclaimed.
His friend with fur collar added. "bastard called Brumas. Very big and nasty"
His friend nodded confidently.
You looked at Edith confused. "Brumas?"
Edith shook his head. "it's something that the people here are afraid of. Lots of sightings and attacks have happened before involving this bear"
"so, the bear is our prime suspect?" you muttered.
"Like I said. It's something that people are afraid of" he shrugged. "but I believe it's something else."
"because bears won't do the same patterns" you stated.
Edith nodded. "yeah" he looked at the man's face and frowned. "I know this feller. Man is always in the saloon doing god knows what and with who. He's kind of always sleeping in jail because he's always getting in trouble while drunk."
"So he got a bit of a criminal record," you nodded. "the wife denies that he doesn't have an enemy but when you say things like that. I don't think he doesn't have one" you remarked.
Edith nodded. "could be the person who has a sour feeling with him"
"bad blood." you muttered then stood up. "wife said he went out in the morning to hunt, but the weapon was not with him"
"could be somewhere around here." Edith stood up. Taking a lantern to spread throughout the scene. "Alright you two, we gotta find some hunting weapon here. Make sure you don't touch it. It's evidence. And sirs" he looked at the three hunters. "You can go now. We can handle it just fine"
The raccoon hat shrugged and turned to leave. "come on, yer two let the law handle it. We got games to hunt."
The two friends looked at the scene one more time before they walked away with rifles in hand.
Edith sighed. "right. Straight to business I guess." he looked at you. "make it like your own home" he joked lightly.
You shook your head and looked around.
You took a slow breath, letting the cold air settle your thoughts before moving.
The ground told stories that people just rarely knew how to listen to.
You lifted the lantern from where it hung low in your grip and stepped carefully around the body, boots avoiding the thickest patches of blood. Your gaze drifted outward, past the corpse, past the immediate horror… into the quieter details.
No drag marks.
You crouched again, this time a few feet away, fingers hovering just above the dirt before brushing lightly against it.
“Edith,” you called, not looking up, “come here a moment.”
He walked over, boots crunching softly. “What is it?”
You pointed.
“See this?”
He leaned in, squinting. “Footprints?”
“Not just footprints.” You shifted the lantern closer. “Two sets. One belongs to the victim. Uneven stride, heavier on the right foot. He was either limping… or already injured before he fell.”
Edith hummed. “And the other?”
You traced the second set with your finger without touching it. “Deliberate. Measured. Whoever this is… they weren’t running.”
Edith’s jaw tightened slightly. “Confident.”
“Or patient,” you corrected quietly.
You stood, following the trail with your eyes. “They came from there…” you gestured toward the darker stretch of trees, “…and they left the same way.”
Edith lifted his lantern, scanning the direction. “No signs of struggle out here.”
“Exactly.” You turned back toward the body. “Which means whatever happened… happened fast.”
A pause.
Then your eyes flicked to something else.
“…That lantern.”
Edith followed your gaze. “What about it?”
You walked toward it slowly, crouching beside it. The flame flickered steadily, untouched by wind.
“Still lit,” you murmured. “Hours in the wild, and no one thought to take it… or it wasn’t dropped in panic.”
Edith crossed his arms. “You’re saying?”
You looked up at him.
“He didn’t run.”
That landed.
Edith frowned. “No one stands still when a bear charges.”
“Exactly.”
You rose to your feet again, eyes sharpening. “He was either lured… or he trusted the person he met.”
Edith exhaled slowly. “So our victim walks out here in the morning, no weapon, meets someone he knows… and ends up dead with his chest cut open.”
“And staged,” you added.
A beat of silence passed between you.
One of the officers called out from behind. “Sir! Found something!”
Edith turned. “What is it?”
“A bit further out by the brush!”
You and Edith exchanged a glance before moving quickly toward the voice.
The officer stood near a cluster of low shrubs, careful not to step too close. He pointed down.
“There.”
Half-hidden beneath leaves and dirt… was a rifle.
You crouched beside it, studying without touching. “Hunting weapon,” you murmured. “So he did bring one.”
Edith tilted his head. “Then why wasn’t it near the body?”
You looked up at him, eyes narrowing slightly.
“Because he never got the chance to use it.”
Edith’s expression hardened. “Take him off.”
“Or set aside willingly,” you countered.
He let out a quiet scoff. “You trust too easily.”
You gave him a small, humorless smile. “And you don’t trust at all. That’s why this works.”
He didn’t argue with that.
Instead, he looked back toward the corpse, then at the trail, then finally into the dark woods beyond.
“…We’re looking for someone he knew,” Edith said.
“And someone who knew how to cut,” you added.
The wind shifted slightly, rustling the trees.
For a brief moment, everything felt… watched.
You straightened slowly, eyes scanning the darkness.
“…and,” you added under your breath, “someone who wanted us to believe in a monster.”
Edith followed your gaze into the trees.
“Brumas,” he muttered.
You didn’t answer.
Edith narrowed his eyes. "so.. All victims are related to the same legend or someone. So it's the same person who did this. Right?"
"indeed. Must be someone who knows the ins and outs of this place. Someone who has lived around here for a long time" you stated.
"There's a few cabins around here. Could be one of them who knows this." the first officer interrupted.
"Old man Grimly always goes to the saloon, I believe. Talking nonsense. Always with his war time stories. Billy Jones also goes to the saloon. Gambling too. Man got a bad temper when he lost gambling" the second officer added.
Edith nodded with confirmation. "some residents here prefer the sound of nature than people. But some of them just want to get away from it."
You nodded. "that's going to be the first interrogation we will do this morning. Call this Old Man Grimly to the station, will you?"
The first officer laughed in disbelief. "that old man won't help us with his war time story, miss"
You grinned. "then we make him talk. Bring Billy Jones to the station too, will you?"
The second officer nodded hesitantly. "yes, miss"
Edith looked at you strangely. "I should be the one who handles this case."
You blinked at him innocently. "yeah, but you need me"
Edith sighed in defeat. "come on, back to station"
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
The flat door was knocked on three times. Mrs Morris came out of her own flat with only a robe tied around her waist. She adjusted her robe as she walked toward the door.
The flat had finally been renovated after the burn. Mostly some of the interior was still the same along with the wall paint and wallpaper. A sense of familiarity was what she preferred.
The door was knocked on again. Mrs Morris opened the door cautiously. Well, she didn't expect anyone to come this late.
Upon seeing who was behind the door, she changed her face. Both hands went to her waist as she looked at you with disappointment - not really.
"Miss Holmes" her soft tone called.
You adjusted your hold on your bag in your hand. Feet shifted. You pursed your lips. "Mrs Morris"
"i thought you wouldn't visit this old woman" she scolded.
You furrowed your eyebrows. "Just something hold me back from visiting you. Wouldn't dream of it to not visit you." you nodded. "Can I come in? It's.. Well it's night and i have no place to stay."
Mrs Morris opened the flat door wide, letting you in. The chill temperature now turned warm as you stepped inside.
The flat is still the same, you notice. New furniture and picture frames. New floor with new carpet. New wall with the same wallpaper. The burn on the floor and wall was polished clean leaving only a mark which was painted over or wallpapered.
It's as if no fire occurred here. Seems like the law did their job right.
You put your bag on the floor and looked at Mrs Morris.
"uh, you see. Well. I only came to Blackwater only temporarily but.. Well, I don't want to book a hotel here.. Too much noise and people. If you don't mind, I can-"
"oh, Y/n." Mrs Morris looked at you like a mother looks at her child. "You know you are always welcome to stay here. You did pay rent on time anyway" she walked upstairs. "come, your flat is still the same as before. Well, the furniture I mean. I might put the position a bit different. But your flat is here"
You nodded and picked up your bag from the floor. Follow her upstairs while eyes darted around the flat.
"So, any new tenants?" you questioned.
"A researcher rented a flat above you." Mrs Morris replied.
Your eyebrows raised in surprise. "oh, really? The flat with the gas leak?"
Mrs Morris hummed. "yeah, the flat was really messy before but now it's fine to live in. The researcher though, he's a bit strange. Well, not like I'm used to strange before." she joked.
You chuckled. "can't say I'm surprised"
Soon, you two arrived at a familiar door. Your old flat. Same door and handle.
"Must be a long time to recover the flat?" you stated.
"oh, it is. Months before they came to my sister's house to inform me that this flat was safe to live in" She replied, hand pulling out the flat key before she inserted the key into the lock. Unlocking the flat.
Click.
The lock unlocks. The flat door was opened wide letting the wind from inside the empty flat come out. Mrs Morris looked at you expectantly, She stepped aside, letting you take your time to go inside.
You hold your bag tightly. The memory of the burn and the reason you are here makes you hesitate a bit for a second.
Then, having enough confidence. You crossed the threshold. A warmth greeted you, along with something else... something quieter. A memory that clung to the corners of the room like dust no one could quite sweep away.
Still the same.
Still familiar.
The layout hasn't changed. The window still sat where it always had, curtains drawn halfway. The small table by the corner remained, though newer, polished. The bed had been replaced, the frame sturdier now. Even the bookshelf, emptied, but standing.
Your gaze drifted to the far wall.
The wallpaper.
New... yet patterned exactly like the old one.
Carefully chosen.
Carefully restored.
As if someone had tried to rebuild not just a flat but a life interrupted.
"I can't really change something here because I have a feeling that.. You might come back here. Well, the furniture is new. I hope it still brings a familiar feeling to you" Mrs Morris said gently behind you.
You nodded, though your eyes still didn't leave the wall. "I see that." you turned to look at Mrs Morris. "Thank you, Mrs Morris. It's.. Well, I can't say it's too much but.. Thank you for this." you smiled gently at her.
Mrs Morris shook her head. "It's never too much for me anyway. You're my favorite tenant. You always paid rent on time."
You frowned. "and the new one didn't pay on time?"
Mrs Morris laughed, waving her hand as she stepped inside the flat. "oh, he did pay on time but he doesn't really enjoy people's company, I believe. Always avoid people. Well, except for me as he needs to pay the rent." she paused. "always say something about his finding. Ancient artifacts, I remember he said it"
"ancient artifacts" you echoed.
Mrs. Morris nodded. "Last time I saw him bring home a viking hatchet. He said he found it near Roanoke Ridge. I said it was from an old tomb."
"that far, huh?" you muttered.
Mrs. Morris shook her head in disbelief. "He's a strange one," she looked around the flat. "Anyway, it's late. I'm sure you've settled in here. Get some rest. Anything you need just knock on my door, okay?"
You nodded frankly. "yeah.. Yeah, I will" you send her a soft smile. “Thank you”
She smiled, the kind that didn't press for more. “Get some rest, Y/n.”
With that, she stepped out, gently pulling the door closed behind her.
Click.
Silence settled in.
You stood there for a moment, unmoving.
Then slowly... you exhaled.
Your eyes swept the room again—more carefully this time.
Details.
You moved towards the window first, fingers brushing lightly against the curtain before pulling it aside just enough to peek out. The street below was quiet, dimly lit by lanterns. Nothing unusual.
Good.
You let the curtain fall back into place.
Your grip tightened slightly around the strap of your bag before you finally stepped further inside, placing it down near the bed.
Thud.
You frowned, looking down at the wooden floor. You crouched, running your fingers across the wooden boards. Smooth. Too smooth in some places. Replaced.
Of course.
Fire doesn't leave much behind.
You stood again, turning towards the wall.
That same wall.
Your gaze sharpened.
You stepped closer, raising your hand, hesitating only briefly before pressing your fingers lightly against the wallpaper.
Flat.
Seamless.
But…
Your fingers moved, tracing slowly along the pattern.
There.
A slight inconsistency.
A line that didn't quite belong.
You narrowed your eyes.
“…patched,” you murmured.
Not just repaired.
Covered.
You leaned in closer, studying it in the dim light. The pattern alignment was near perfect but not perfect enough.
Whoever did this..
Rushed.
Or hide something quickly.
A soft creak sounded above you.
You froze.
Your head tilted slightly upwards, listening.
Footsteps.
Slow.
Measured.
From the flat above.
The researcher.
You remained still, eyes lifting towards the ceiling as the sound continued. One step... then another...
Then it stopped.
Just like that.
Your gaze didn't drop.
“…Strange,” you whispered.
You look back at the patched wall for a moment. It’s probably a messy work left by the construction. Human error. Sherlock’s voice crossed your mind. You sighed heavily. Letting all the tension disappear. All the thinking is gone, all that remains is peace and silence. Or you try.
The animal attack and Sherrinford's death. Too much happening in one day. Oh, how you miss this kind of feeling. The adventure, the rushing and all.
Not like your stay with the gang is not so extreme, it's just that the aura there is a bit dark. Violence. Just to survive but here, the violence still there but only for the sake of justice.
To hide the wrong.
Not for the greater good.
Even high class people do wrong things, let alone another class.
Humans. That's the way humans are. Rules or not, if it leads to what they want, they will do anything to get it.
That's what people do.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
"Shut up, Micah."
"oh, ho. Miss Morgan" he sniffled. "The fire is still burning I see. After what happened"
Dhani glared at him. "This same fire will also spread to you if you don't shut up"
Micah raised his hand in defeat. "Just want to see how you're doing, that's all. No hard feeling"
Dhani looked back at her campfire. Hands tightly holding a bottle of whiskey. "fuck off" she cursed.
Micah chuckled under his breath, the sound low and needling, like something that refused to die.
"Still got that bite," he muttered, rocking back on his heels. "Shame it didn't help you none that day."
Dhani's grip on the bottle tightened.
The glass creaked faintly.
"Careful," Micah added lightly, eyes glinting. "Wouldn't want you breakin' that too."
That did it.
In a blink, Dhani was on her feet.
The bottle slammed down beside the fire, forgotten, as she stepped into him close enough that the heat between them had nothing to do with the flames.
"You talk too much for someone still breathin'," she said, voice low and sharp.
Micah didn't move.
Didn't flinch.
If anything, his grin grew.
"Ain't you a sight," he drawled. "All that anger... but no one to point it at properly."
Dhani's jaw clenched. "I know exactly where to point it."
Micah is flattered but quickly hides it. Instead he masked it with his smug grin. Oh, he finds it amusing.
"Do you now?" he said softly.
Dhani darkened her eyes at him. The camp around them had gone quieter.
Not silent but quieter.
A few heads turned. No one stepped in.
They never did.
Although, if they weren't here, Micah probably wouldn't be safe if Dhani just took out her gun and put a bullet in his forehead, saving the day. Or saving the game from this parasite.
"You parasite" she seethed.
Micah tilted his head in amusement. "I've been called many names. That only adds to my many titles"
Dhani stared at him hard but didn't say anything. Arthur, who just returned from hunting with Charles, stopped at the entrance.
Arthur slowed the moment he felt it.
That tension.
Thick. Wrong.
His eyes flicked from Dhani… to Micah… then back again.
Charles stopped beside him, quieter, but just as alert. “What’s goin’ on?” he murmured.
Arthur didn’t answer. Didn’t need to.
He stepped forward instead.
“Alright,” Arthur called, voice cutting through the air like a blade. “That’s enough.”
Micah didn’t even look at him at first.
His attention was still on Dhani like he was enjoying this a little too much.
Then, slowly, he glanced over. “Well, if it ain’t the prodigal son,” he drawled. “Come to break up a friendly conversation?”
Arthur’s jaw tightened. “Didn’t look friendly to me.”
Dhani didn’t move.
Didn’t blink.
Her stare stayed locked on Micah like she was trying to burn a hole straight through him.
Micah noticed.
Of course he did.
“…You got a real interest in me, Miss Morgan,” he said, voice low, almost teasing. “Might start thinkin’ you’re obsessed.”
That snapped something.
Dhani stepped forward again but Arthur moved quicker. A hand shot out, catching her arm.
“Dhani,” he said, firm.
She tried to pull free.
“Let go, Arthur.”
“No.”
Her head snapped toward him, eyes blazing. “You don’t know what-”
“I know enough,” he cut in, voice quieter now but heavier. “This ain’t the place.”
A beat.
The fire crackled between them.
Charles shifted slightly behind Arthur, his gaze now fixed on Micah. Not aggressive just… watching.
Measuring.
Micah noticed that too.
“Look at that,” Micah chuckled. “Got yourself a whole audience now.”
Arthur didn’t take his eyes off Dhani. “Drop it.”
Her breathing was sharp. Uneven.
For a moment, it looked like she wouldn’t.
Then slowly…
She yanked her arm free.
But she didn’t reach for her gun.
Didn’t move toward Micah again.
Instead, she took a step back.
Then another.
Not retreating.
Choosing.
Her eyes returned to Micah one last time.
Cold.
Certain.
“This ain’t over,” she said.
Micah’s grin widened. “Wouldn’t want it to be.”
Arthur finally turned his head toward him. “You,” he said flatly, “oughta start learnin’ when to shut your mouth.”
Micah gave a mock salute. “Yes, sir.”
But there was no respect in it.
None at all.
Arthur stared at him a second longer… then turned away.
“Come on,” he muttered to Dhani.
She didn’t follow immediately.
Still staring at Micah.
Like she was memorizing him.
Every detail.
Every movement.
Every lie.
Then finally, she turned and walked past Arthur, brushing his shoulder as she did.
Charles watched her go, then glanced at Arthur. “She’s not wrong, you know.”
Arthur exhaled through his nose. “I know.”
His gaze flicked back to where Micah stood.
Still smiling.
Still watching.
“…That’s the problem,” Arthur added quietly.
Charles stared where Dhani disappeared. Her tent. The flap has been closed. The lantern inside extinguished.
"You should see her. Must have been something going on in that mind of hers" Charles suggested.
Arthur looked at him confused. "me?"
"You're her older brother. Her only family. Hell, you two are twins. There must be a connection between you two who sense when the other feels wrong. Go to her, ask her what's wrong and offer her some comfort or advice. Must be something to do with the job" Charles stated.
Arthur let out a huff. Somewhere between sigh and scoff. The kind he always lets out whenever someone gives him an order.
"Since when did you start sounding like Hosea?" Arthur grumbled.
Charles didn't take the bait. "since I started noticing you pretend not to" Charles looked at him.
Arthur clenched his jaw. Eyes looked at Dhani's tent. "she doesn't like bein' fuss over"
Charles shrugged slightly. "Then don't fuss. Just.. Be there. For her"
A pause between them. The sound of crickets is heard between them.
Charles glanced at him. "You'd want her to do the same."
That landed.
Arthur's jaw shifted, his gaze dropping to the dirt for a second before he exhaled again.
"...Yeah," he admitted.
Charles gave a small nod, then stepped back. "I'll keep an eye on things here."
Arthur didn't answer this time.
He just turned and walked.
Dhani shifted in her seat. Journal on her lap while hand holding pencil,
Heavy footsteps and yet familiar. Arthur. She huffed as she slammed shut her journal. The fire of anger still burns even after the fight between her and Micah is over.
She reached for her satchel and shoved the journal inside along with the pencil. Her hand smudged with a pencil mark. She really is pissed off with the incident that her pencil smudge was on her.
The footsteps stopped in front of her tent. Whoever out there started pissing her off too if they didn't start talking. But she knows who is outside.
"what is it, Arthur?" she called out. Huffed with temper.
The flap shifted.
"Mind if I come in?" he replied, still outside with uncertain posture.
Dhani rolled her eyes. "Go away, Arthur" she echoed.
Arthur took it as an invitation to come in when in fact Dhani didn't say anything to invite him in but he knows her. She's pissed - really pissed.
"Oi. I didn't tell you to come in" Dhani barked, still sitting on her cot. Didn't make a move to kick him out.
Arthur let the flap close her tent. He rolled his eyes as if he's the one who got annoyed by her. The audacity of this man defeats the actors in the theater.
"Don't care. I'm here to check on you" Arthur stated. Standing in front of her, presently. Like a medieval child showing his outfit to their mother. Awkward.
Dhani looked at him judgmentally. "you check on me? Please tell me it was Hosea who told me." she adjusted her pillow, ready to sleep. "you see me now, you can go report it to Hosea. I'm going to sleep" she waved her hand, shooing him away like a dog.
"like hell I want to go. Charles told me to. Think you need someone with ya" he replied walking closer to her and sitting on her cot.
Dhani shifted. "Charles thinks a lot"
Arthur rolled his eyes. Once again he did that, he's going to lose his vision with how much nonsense Dhani replied at him.
"yeah, but he ain't usually wrong" He replied, matter of fact.
Dhani grumbled. "what do you want, Arthur? You're planning to sit here in the dark or just want to annoy me like how sibling do?"
Arthur frowned. "I said I want to check on you"
Dhani gestured to herself. "as you can see, I'm fine and I need to sleep. So, brother please give me some space and let me sleep peacefully" she hit her pillow. "the exit there and go away it's late"
Arthur grumbled but didn't move, making Dhani stare at him expectantly. Dhani rolled her eyes and bumped her head to the pillow, eyes closing to catch a sleep.
"Fine. Sit there quietly and shut up" she muttered.
Arthur pursed his lips. He looked around her tent with interest. Picture frames on the small table, newspapers, books, ammo, weapons and all the things she collected are all there.
Arthur stared at the picture frame. Two picture frames on the table next to her cot.
One copy of a picture of their own mother, Beatrice Morgan and the other is a picture of Dutch, Hosea, him and her in their younger days. Back then when the gang wasn't that many like now.
Hosea sitting on a chair with Dutch on his right also sitting on a chair with his legs crossed and a cigarette in his hand still smoking unlike Hosea who sits with one leg crossed over the other leg. Young Arthur stood next to Dutch while young Dhani stood next to Hosea. Arthur with his hardened features and yet his young face does not show his hard face. While Dhani with arms crossed to her chest. Face clearly looks annoyed but with perfect masking. An empty smile. A smile that doesn't reach the eyes. She wasn't joking when she said she didn't like to be photographed.
Arthur shifted his gaze to Dhani. Who now peacefully relaxed. Breathing softly though he knows she's not sleeping yet.
Arthur fiddled with his fingers. Still sitting on her cot. "so. Is it the time of the month or Micah being stupid?"
Dhani grumbled. "When did Micah stop being stupid?"
Arthur nodded in agreement. "fair point". Not the time of the month. Great. Meaning she didn't rip him apart or Micah still survives. The last part made him grumble with dissatisfaction.
"Is it something he said?" he asked, trying to test the water.
"sort of. Got some work with him early." Dhani grumbled. "oh, fuck him. He's making me want to kill him and pretend it was an accident."
Arthur nodded. "Can I help?"
Dhani opened her eyes and looked at him. "you can. But better don't let Dutch see it. I don't want to hear him speech about loyalty or not killing other gang members."
Arthur chuckled. "sure" he shook his head with amusement.
The silent return. Dhani now shifted, moving to sit instead of lying down. She leaned her back against the side wagon parked near her cot. Like Arthur's tent but hers with cover.
Arthur observed her. From her tired features, scar on the temple. Wrinkles at the ends of her eyes and faint eyebags under the eyes showing that she sure as hell needs her rest. Arthur began to feel guilty. But at the same time, he sure needs to check on her from time to time.
That's what brother do, right?
Dhani's head was propped against the wagon. A quiet thud was heard between them. Eyes closed, Dhani rubbed his forehead and sighed in frustration.
"He asked me to come with him. A wagon full with the rich around Dewberry Creek." She explained. "Well, you can guess what happened after that. The wagon had 4 passengers in it including the driver. The driver is already dead. Micah's the one who shot him. One of the passengers was a 6-year-old boy."
Arthur just kept quiet. Dhani's eyes were fixed on the end of the tent. Recalling the moment inside her mind.
"The father refuses to be corporated. He's using his body to shield his family but Micah urged him to give us money or any valuables. He points his gun to the mother after he pushes the father away. Said something like if the father doesn't cooperate, he's going to shoot her. The boy watches it all, I try to reason with Micah but Micah already shot her. In front of the boy the father shielded him away." She shook her head in disbelief.
"he laughed, you know. Micah. Turns out the wagon didn't have anything very valuable. Just family, moved. Normal family. We returned empty-handed. The father and the boy, well.... I helped them get away. The mother.. I buried her somewhere quiet." She looked at her own hands that were clenched into fists.
Arthur's jaw clenched when he heard the story. Micah, that bastard. The one with no empathy in himself. The known bastard who only cares about wealth and himself. Typical outlaw. But then again, Arthur is no different when it comes to doing the task that Dutch asks him to do. The only thing that can differentiate him from Micah is his cruelty only to those who deserve it.
Micah is not the same as that at all. His cruelty to everyone whether they deserve it or not and makes it his entertainment when he is bored or when he feels like doing it. His cruelty has no limits. And Dutch sees it as loyalty and an opportunity to achieve his plan.
Arthur can only send her a sympathetic look. "You did good. At burying the mother anyway. And for sending the father and the boy away from him. God knows what would have happened to them if you weren't there."
Dhani sighed, eyes closing. "Fuck Micah" she cursed.
Arthur snickered. "yeah, fuck him"
Dhani opened her eyes and looked at her brother. "Y/n really went to Blackwater, did she?"
Arthur only sighed. "can't stop her. She wins"
Dhani scoffed. "You never win when it comes to her"
Arthur looked at her with offense. "what's that supposed to mean?"
"it means, you are going soft on her. Not a bad thing but in a good way. Her effect starts to rub on you and I can see how it affects you based on how you treat others." Dhani replied.
"and I can see her effect also starting to rub on you with how you talk. You're starting to sound like her" Arthur replied, frowning.
Dhani shrugged. "I only see what I see"
"That too sounds like her," Arthur retorted.
Dhani smacks his shoulder. "shut up"
Arthur laughed. "it's a compliment, ok. I only said you started to look that you have a brain. Unlike Marston"
"I hear that" John's raspy voice was heard from outside the tent.
"Go away, John," Dhani replied loudly.
"My name was mentioned out of nowhere. Now you want to stop me from defending myself?" John flipped Dhani's tent cloth aside. Looking at her with offense.
Arthur snickered. "can't even defend yourself from a wolf. Let alone defend yourself from a simple insult"
John huffed a breath, hands placed on his hips. "kids" he muttered.
"We are practically older than you," replied Dhani.
"yeah well, Jack is more mature than you two" John retorted.
"No. Jack is more mature than you when it comes to countin' a bugs" Arthur teased.
John shook his head. "I'm going to fucking bed"
Arthur scoffed. "yeah, go ahead and cry"
"fuck you, Arthur" John shouted one last time before he walked away.
The Morgan twins laughed at this. Here they are. The mischief between them did not go away after their years in this gang. But then, their laughter ceased. Faces were still smiling before they sighed in unison. Arthur looked at her like brother always did. Protective, concerned, you named it.
He reached her hand and rubbed the back of her hand reassuringly. Arthur wasn't the type to always reassure. He wasn't good at dealing with it let alone reassuring others that everything would be ok when in fact it wasn't. It was bad. Very bad.
He can't lie with it but, sometimes we have to lie for the good of someone.
Day by day with Dutch's plan and constant Pinkerton's sighting made it more complicated to deal with it. Make it more complicated to survive.
"It's going to get worse, isn't it?" Dhani asked, her voice dropping to a whisper. She didn't pull her hand away from Arthur's; she needed the anchor. "I feel like we're just running in circles, waiting for the ground to finally give way beneath us."
Arthur looked at the flickering lantern light reflecting in her eyes. He wanted to tell her they'd make it to Tahiti, or that the Dutch had a master plan that would wash all this blood off their hands, but the words felt like ash in his mouth. He was tired of the grand speeches. He was just tired.
"We keep moving," Arthur said eventually, his voice gravelly. "That's what we do. We find a new spot, we keep our heads down, and we try to keep the people who actually matter out of the crossfire."
Dhani scoffed and looked away. That same sentence she kept on hearing from Dutch.
'keep a low profile, don't cause trouble'
And then next thing she knows, you are packing to find another place to survive when things become too much to handle. Same old way with the same solution.
"Micah's not out of the crossfire, Arthur. He's the one pulling the trigger," Dhani pointed out, her expression hardening again. "and now that we are messing up those families. Hmph, I don't think we will stay here much longer"
Arthur went silent, the weight of the question hanging in the air. He thought about the trail of bodies they'd left across the heartland, the way the world felt smaller every day, and the way the law—not just the Pinkertons, but those ghosts in army uniforms—seemed to be closing in like a tightening noose.
"Dutch seem so eager in playing both sides, The Gray and Braithwaite" Dhani muttered.
Arthur looked at her. "It's Dutch we're talking about. Of course he has a way to make a profit."
"yeah and how long will they realize that we are playing them? Manipulating them, robbing them.. Hosea himself doesn't feel right in this whole operation." Dhani said in doubt. "bet Y/n too feels that something doesn't feel right"
Arthur sighed heavily. "i can't say anything in this, you know that. Dutch.. He.. He probably has a way for this. You know that. As for Y/n.. She always knows something doesn't feel right and chooses not to say anything."
"Does Dutch know she went to Blackwater?" Dhani looked at Arthur.
"no.. Everything is done discreetly. You know how Dutch will feel if he knows that she went to Blackwater in the middle of this" Arthur replied. "told Dutch that someone contacted her to solve some murder case"
"Of course. Who else knows it?"
"Me, you and Hosea.. " Arthur replied.
"Of course." she nodded.
Arthur shifted now he turned his body to his sister. "Listen, whatever is going on with you now, you should hide it from Dutch.. Oh hell, even anyone. I know things are a bit complicated now but.. I don't want to see you get kicked out of the gang or something. You know how he is if you doubt him. I've had to deal with him about that and I don't want you to have to deal with Dutch just because you question him. He's- I'm not defending him or something but be careful.. That's all.."
"hmm.. things are not the same as before.. Dutch.. Day by day he seems to be different. Not the same Dutch that we know.. Maybe I'm the one who feels different" she replied, looking down and fidgeting with her own fingers.
"I know.. Me too. But right now we have people who need us" He sent her a gentle smile.
Dhani could only sigh before she shifted to lay down on her cot, gently patting Arthur's thigh to make him move.
"Only time can tell," she murmured before landing her head on the pillow.
Arthur moved himself to stand. "yeah.. only time can tell" he muttered back before he flipped open the tent and walked out to the opening.
Seeing that some of the members were already asleep in a dream, Arthur walked to his own tent. Stealing a glance towards your empty tent which is not far from him.
"Oh my God" Maisie cursed out loud. Eyes were amazed at what she saw inside the TARDIS.
You smiled proudly and crossed your arms and leaned against the door. "i know, i know, it's big-"
"-bigger than my room" Maisie cut off.
You blinked in disbelief. Surely you expected her to say bigger on the inside but well, humans have different reactions. But compare this and her room, you wonder how big her room is if she compared your TARDIS and her room.
"bigger... than your room? "You said slowly one by one.
Maisie hummed. "i meant, bigger than my house but my brain suddenly thought of my room. So yeah, bigger than my room. " She walked towards the control panel and frowned looking at the many strange buttons and levers. "what's this buttons and levers? They look like fidget toys in big sized"
You moved quickly and pulled her shoulders quickly and yet not firmly. "Don't touch those." you said.
"Are those buttons working? or are they just decorations there" Maisie said as she attempted to press some buttons on the control panel which you stopped her by holding her hand.
"yes, they work and no, they're not decorations either" you replied slightly annoyed with what she had just said. "and don't touch them if you don't want us to suddenly be in a black hole or something" you muttered quietly, mind reminded of moments where you 'accidentally' pressed some buttons that took you to the wrong place.. the wrong planet by the way. With the wrong time..
You shivered remembering that scary moment. But slightly happy because there you met Bounty. That little robot wasn't supposed to be thrown there.
Maisie frowned upon hearing that. "what do you mean?"
Your lips became thin lines. "i- uh.. well! he's a time spaceship, of course he'll take us wherever we want. Sometimes he'll take us instead of us taking him" you replied, patting the control panel to annoy the TARDIS which TARDIS grumbled, lights flashing telling you to stop.
"he?"
You beamed. "Yes! He! TARDIS is a male! or.. i should think he's a male but well, he sounds like a man. So yes! He's a man!"
Maisie glanced around. "you mean to tell me.. This time machine is a living thing? and it's a man?" she looked at you like you were crazy. But then again, what she had seen before was enough to drive her crazy too.
You scoffed. "Of course he is a living thing! I practically grew him up by myself!"
Maisie raised an eyebrow, disbelieving. "you grow him up? My god, how can you grow this machine up by yourself? Like you grew him from a baby or something. If you said you built it by yourself I might believe you. But you grew him up? Well. That's bullshit" she crossed her arms.
You glared at her. "no swearing in the TARDIS" you noted.
Maisie raised her hands as if in surrender. "Alright... No need to be angry"
"i have a very good reason to be angry when someone swears in the TARDIS" you crossed your arms, head tilted to the side. Hand patting the control panel as if comforting the TARDIS. Your baby.
"And do you often have visitors here? Or just me?" Maisie looked around.
"Not often but sometimes. Sometimes they stay, sometimes they go and sometimes, I'm their taxi" you muttered in the last part.
Maisie heard it. Obviously. "Taxi? what like time Taxi or-"
"why do you put the word Time on everything?" you looked at her strangely.
Maisie shrugged. "i don't know. Probably because you yourself told me what you were doing and what you are"
You sighed. "fair enough" you pulled the lever. A whirring sound could be heard from inside and outside the TARDIS. A hologram screen appeared in front of you. A circle and waves on the screen.
Maisie walked around the TARDIS in a circle. Noting the light and decoration inside it with interest. She hummed.
"nice decoration" she said.
You glanced at her through the hologram screen. "not my taste by the way"
"Then why did you make it if it wasn't to your taste?" Maisie looked at you strangely.
"Ask my old self. She's the one who wanted this decoration and apparently the TARDIS likes it" you scoffed.
"I don't" the TARDIS replied.
You glared upwards as if glaring at the TARDIS. "yes you are"
"Well, your old self... has a unique taste" TARDIS replied sarcastically.
"Well, I have a unique taste too," you replied.
"Really? The way you're dressed is so.. It's.. boring" the TARDIS countered.
"Boring?! What's wrong with wearing a trench coat? It's not boring. I'm not boring, am I boring?" you looked at Bounty.
Bounty beeped as if confirming what you said. He seemed to agree with what the TARDIS said. You protested and grumbled.
"ugh, I hate you two" you muttered as you bitterly swiped the code on the hologram screen.
Bounty beeped. 'no you don't' teasing way.
TARDIS hummed. "whatever you say"
Maisie, who witnessed this conversation, started to open her mouth. "so.. uh. what do you mean by asking your old self?"
"Did I mention I regenerated?" You looked at her with wide eyes.
Maisie shook her head. "Like a lizard? Growing their own limbs?"
You looked at her with disgust. "What no. Why does everyone I meet always associate me with a species of lizard?"
Maisie shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe you are one?"
"Wha- I'm not a lizard"
Maisie hummed. "Sure,.. I've seen a blood sucking alien who practically needed blood to be alive and all.. so yeah" she shrugged.
You sighed before grinned, eyes still on the screen. "Well, ever heard of cheating death?" you raised an eyebrow.
Maisie frowned. "you can't cheat death"
"Well, I can" you nodded and moved, now both hands on the control panel. Eyes looked at Maisie with a smug face. "we, time people have a hormone in our body where when we are in major injuries or almost die, we will release a burst of energy from our body. Basically we repair our body to prevent death. But only 12 times. After that, well we finally die" you simply explained, Leaning against the control panel to look at Maisie.
Maisie looked at you like you had two heads. Mind tried to understand. She's just an intern who still wants to know all those medical things even though she has passed her final exams and assignments during her studies but when she thinks back, there's more she doesn't know. No test or final exam can help her understand this.
Maisie blinked. "so, you are indeed an alien"
You huffed and rolled your eyes. "yeah, if that's what makes it easy for you to understand" you started to fiddle with the control panel. "so! where are you going?"
Maisie shifted her standing. "sorry?"
You started waving your hands to gesture to yourself and him. "Where are we going? I mean, where are you going to go so I can prove that this is my time machine or spaceship as you want to put it is real." You paused and looked at the hologram screen. "As if being bigger on the inside isn't real enough for you" you muttered quietly.
"Oi, I hear that," Maisie frowned. She crossed her arms in offense. "and I want to make it simple. I don't know where because you're the one driving, you're the one who knows all this timey spacey. So, it's you who wants to take me where"
You blinked. "well, huh. That's true too. Hmm, stupid me finally encountered someone with a brain" you made a face. "wha- is that what i am now? Insulting too?" you muttered to yourself as you turned to the control panel to fumble with the buttons and levers.
"Are you talking to yourself?" Maisie was getting more and more weird about you.
You turned to her quickly. "Sorry! I recently regenerated and then just saved the world from massive space fish from invading the Earth and then saved the world again with those slimey blood sucking aliens. I didn't really get enough rest and I barely knew this new self, apparently." you explained quickly and energetically. You then ran to the shelf at the end of the TARDIS. You saw a red square sticker with words on it that meant:
'still trying to know myself'
Maisie looked at you strangely as she watched you stick the sticker to your chest. You patted it a few times.
You smiled wide. "heh, i forgot to put this"
Maisie pointed at the sticker. "you think people will know if you're normal or not?"
You looked at her a bit offended. "who says I'm normal? I'm abnormal! I got two hearts!"
Maisie blinked a few times. She then threw her hands up in disbelief. "i don't know what i got myself into"
You blew your lips, creating a fart noise, "you'll get used to it anyway." You waved your hand as you walked back to the control panel. "right! destination. Usually I tell Bounty to choose or just the TARDIS to take us wherever but today it's my turn to take you wherever I want to go. Or so I thought" you were silent for a moment.
Maisie walked towards you. "Just don't take me to the end of the world. I don't want to watch the earth explode. That's it" she shrugged.
You slowly grinning making Maisie look at you in disbelief. The TARDIS hummed, Bounty making a beeping noise as if he also agreed with what you were thinking. Here Maisie knew she fucked up.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
"Who in the world taught you to drive this thing?"
"He's not a thing! He has feelings and a soul, ok!" you argued.
"You got a license to drive this? Then why are you driving it like a drunk driver? You're trying to kill us?!" Maisie shot back as she held the control panel tightly.
"Heh, last time I checked, my license expired a few hundred years ago" you simply shot back as you started to twist the lever making the TARDIS jerk.
"Well, here goes my gas," TARDIS said.
"You don't use gas, TARDIS" you shouted.
"Well, I'm just being sarcastic with how reckless you drive me," he shot back.
Bounty beeped from his charging port. Agree with the TARDIS.
You looked up in offended. "wha- Why are so many people insulting me today? What did I do? Messing with your tea?" You smacked the side of the console dramatically. "I did not mess with anyone's tea. I respect tea."
"You poured soda into it last time," the TARDIS replied flatly.
"That was an experiment."
Maisie screamed as the TARDIS lurched sideways. The floor tilted, the lights dimmed, then flared back to life in a violent orange glow. She stumbled and grabbed the railing, knuckles white.
"I TAKE IT BACK," she yelled. "I'LL NEVER PUT 'TIME' ON EVERYTHING, JUST PLEASE DRIVE STRAIGHT!"
"I am driving straight!" you protested, yanking a lever back into place. "Time-space just… bends. Dramatically. Like me."
"That is not comforting!"
The wheezing, grinding roar grew louder, deeper like the universe itself was coughing. The hologram screen flickered, symbols spinning wildly.
Bounty beeped rapidly.
"Oh no," you muttered.
Maisie heard the tone shift in your voice. Not kidding. Not smug. Focused.
"What?" she asked. "What's 'oh no'?"
You stared at the screen, hearts pounding in sync. "...We overshot."
"Overshot what?"
The TARDIS suddenly slammed to a stop.
Silence.
Then-
a soft, mournful hum filled the air.
Maisie frowned. "Why is it so quiet?"
You didn't answer.
You slowly walked towards the doors, fingers brushing the frame as if you already knew what waited outside. The TARDIS lights dimmed to a low amber, almost… respectful.
"Doctor?" Maisie's voice softened. "Where are we?"
You swallowed.
"... Earth"
Her breath hitched, confused. "So we're back home?"
You pressed the door release.
With a hiss, the doors opened.
Outside wasn't darkness.
It was Earth.
Or what remains of it.
The sky burned in deep crimson and violet, clouds torn apart like shredded silk. Continents glowed faintly along cracked fault lines, oceans pulled into unnatural spirals by unseen forces. Satellites drifted lifelessly, frozen in orbit like forgotten bones.
The sun loomed enormous, unstable, furious, shedding flares that licked the atmosphere.
"Oh my God..." she whispered again but this time, there was no wonder in her voice. Only grief.
Cities were silent. No lights. No sound. No people.
Just the slow, inevitable dying of a planet.
Maisie is shaking. Hands now clutching her clothes as she witnesses what is happening to the Earth now. Or what she thought was Earth.
"What happened here? Y/n? Is this my Earth or-"
"It is.. It’s Earth. 64 years in the future. Or what remains of it. Where the last human breathed their last. Where everything... Die" you said as you slowly stepped out to observe the surroundings.
The world is ash and gray. Depressing. Gloomy and Fire everywhere. Building destroyed. No sign of any human where you are. Overcast clouds. And yet the oxygen is still there meaning this earth still spins despite it being destroyed. The plants are still there but only just. The clinging of life in a dying world.
"what happened? Why is everything destroyed? I mean... 64 years and the earth is like this?" Maisie shifted closer towards you in anxiety. Empty. No other living creature can be seen alive. Everything just ceases to exist.
You take out your sonic screwdriver. The sound of whirring fills the silent atmosphere. Scanning the air, the cause and time. The sonic stops ringing as you see the results it produces. A small hologram comes out of the side of your sonic screwdriver shoving a variety of results including dates.
Earth.
7 February 2076
BOSTON.
INVASION BY THE BROOD.
"The Brood" you muttered.
Maisie frowned in confusion. "The Brood?"
You looked around carefully before taking Maisie's shoulders and moving her back into the TARDIS.
Maisie yelled as she was brought into the TARDIS. "hey! watch it" she glared at you. Watching you walk past her without glancing at her.
You ignored her as you started walking towards the control panel. Hands started pressing some codes to get out of here. "TARDIS, find us somewhere else. This place is invalid." you say
"i can't" the TARDIS replied.
"What do you mean you can't? I already put the coordinate" you looked up in confusion.
Bounty rolled towards the control panel. Big eyes looked up at you with concern. Maisie walked up to you confused.
"It appears that my navigation system is not working." TARDIS announced. "Something is messing with my sys-" the TARDIS suddenly shut down.
Every light shut down and so was the atmosphere, quiet and gloomy. The lights dimmed. Only the emergency light was on but the atmosphere inside the TARDIS was still dark. Barely. Maisie gulped as she looked around. Bounty whined in fear while you looked at the control panel in disbelief.
You shook your head. "no.. no no no no" you tried pressing a few buttons and pulling a few levers. Hoping some of them would work but nothing happened. You slammed your hands on the control panel in frustration loudly making Maisie and Bounty flinch in surprise, Bounty made a small sound as if trying to get your attention. Asking what was wrong.
Maisie hesitated to approach you. "Y/n? Wha- what's wrong? What happened?" she rubbed her arms anxiously.
You exhaled slowly. "he shut down. The TARDIS locked himself."
Maisie frowned in confusion. "What do you mean? Does it mean he's broken? Can he be broken? You said he's a living thing. He can't be broken" Maisie tried to reason.
You shook your head." no. No he's not broken. He- Something is wrong in his system and the best way to not damage his system again is to shut himself. As if something is trying to infect his system and he's trying to protect everything."
Maisie gulped. "The Brood. You said something about The Brood. What is that?" Maisie is now by your side. Her face clearly shows fear. Stuck in this god knows where or what day she is even though she knows this is Earth but she sure knows this is not Earth she knows.
You walked towards Bounty who now looked at you with fear. He let out a low whine as he saw you approach him with urgency. He knew what you were going to do. Being a bounty robot (formerly a bounty robot) has its own perk and one of them is having information about almost all species. So watching you approach him with urgency made him ready to find any information. Like a digital dictionary.
You kneeled in front of him and made him spin around. His back to you leaving you see some buttons behind him that he had long since opened himself. You pressed some specific buttons behind the small robot and finally, Bounty's head looked up as his big eyes were used as a projector to produce a holographic image in front of the three of you.
In front of you. A hologram showing an alien in the form of a scorpion with a big tail just like a scorpion but the body is almost humanoid. Eyes big and red, teeth sharp with sinister grin. Body brown and sickly wrinkles. You then stood and looked at the hologram with seriousness and yet you were actually nervous. Your shaking hands were hidden in your coat pocket. Trying to ease the nervousness. Trying to hide the fact that you were nervous from Maisie. Trying to appear professional.
Not wanting to do any scenes that might make Maisie nervous and scared. You know this. You know how to handle this situation. You've been through this situation countless times. And yet it's still making you nervous sometimes. Just like the Chituari. Like the time Gallifrey was destroyed. And you stood there. Up in the mountain overlooking the destroyed planet before you left Gallifrey with the TARDIS.
But you can't do the same thing you did on Gallifrey. Run away. Flee from the scene. A coward. A traitor to the Time Council and all. Alone. Your hands fisted in your pockets. You sighed heavily.
You nodded your head towards the hologram. "that's The Brood. It's a group of brutal creatures. Hive mind and all just like the Volerians. The blood sucking alien we fought before but this one" you were silent for a moment. "this one more brutal. They don't drink blood instead they infect every living creature they see to become The Brood. Brood is not one creature It's a colony of creatures controlled by the Hive mind. Brood Queen. They invaded big planets like Earth just to make every living creature like them. They implemented their eggs into living things and enough time it will mature and the host will become The Brood. They are brutal, they kill in a slow way. They torture the mind of the host and kill them. Making them do things that the host can't control”
Maisie gulped at the hologram that rotated slowly in front of her. The Creature's red eyes seemingly stared at her making her stomach twist. Shivers run down her spines.
"That- that's horrible," she muttered.
You nodded grimly. "it gets worse"
You hated saying those words. Hell, even every companion who has ever traveled with you hates those words.
Those words alone do not lead to good news. Never.
Because whenever you said it gets worse, it always did.
Maisie looked at you.
You shifted leaning on the control panel. Hands crossing over your chest. You stared at the hologram hard.
"How?" Maisie asked.
"The hosts stay conscious." you swallowed.
Silence.
No words spoken between the two of you.
"the whole time"
Maisie's face was drained of color.
"No."
You nodded once.
"Yes. They can see. They can hear. They can feel everything. They scream inside their own minds while the Brood uses their body like a puppet."
Bounty let out a sad beep.
Even the TARDIS's emergency lights seemed dimmer somehow.
Maisie stared at the hologram again.
"The humans..."
You closed your eyes briefly.
"Most of them probably died long before the invasion finished."
"Probably?"
You looked away.
"The Brood likes survivors."
That answer told her enough.
Neither of you spoke for several seconds.
Only the faint hum of emergency power filled the TARDIS.
Maisie shook her head and gestured towards the hologram. "but, why Earth? Why bring me here just to show me the destruction of it?"
You looked away for a moment. "The TARDIS' system is overshot. Something probably wants us here. As for why Earth. The Brood will look for a planet with a large population so that you can expand your colony. The more the merrier." you pushed yourself off the control panel and turned to look at the shut screen. Hands pressing some buttons, hoping some of them work.
It's not.
Bounty shut the hologram. Eyes blinking a few times before he rolled down the control panel probably back to his charging port for comfort. Although the electricity is not strong enough for him to be charged, finding comfort near you will help to settle his gears.
Maisie paced back and forth a few times. Hands sweating, heart pounding anxiously.
"So what do we do now? Is there- Is there anything we can do- i can do.. Like help you fix the TARDIS or-"
You shook your head. "last time I knew, you were a Doctor. Intern. Not engineer or Mechanic. Even if you were one of those, you wouldn't understand aliens mechanics." you voiced, starting to lie down under the control panel after having opened the hatch beneath it. Sonic Screwdriver scans the entire system underneath.
Maisie pursed her lips. A bit offended by it, honestly. "well, you can't judge someone without asking" she crossed her arms.
You stopped and out from underneath the control panel with a raised eyebrow.
"oh, really?" you groaned as you started shifting from lying down to sitting up. Gesturing towards the system underneath her with your hand.
"Be my guest," you ushered.
Maisie was silent for a moment. Eyes looked at you before her gaze turned to the opening below the control panel. She seemed unsure.
You raised your eyebrows when you saw Maisie step forward and kneel beside you. Her eyes already saw the system opening. Not with the focus that had knowledge of alien technology but with the unsure and dumbfounded look etched on her face when she saw the complicated systems.Maisie looked at you nervously. Watching you now kneel beside the opening with expectations on her face. Not challenging her but the one look that allowed her to try.
At least that's what she thought. She plodded towards you. Kneeling beside the opening before she stretched her neck to look into the opening.
She blinked.
There was a gear. Which she knew it was. Some wires and some weird looking round things that had carvings that she didn't recognize. It looks... Aliens. Well, it is. She mentally slapped herself in the face. Some of the wires attached to the round things and gears. Complicated arrangements which only the most expert would know how to repair.
She gulped and looked at you. You raised an eyebrow.
"so?" you asked. Not with the tone that mocked her but with questions. You genuinely didn't want to embarrass her.
Maisie averted her gaze to the opening again. She blinked. "Well, heh. Yeah.. It's... Aliens technology"
You chuckled and shook your head. Really enjoy watching her dumfounded self.
"told you. You wouldn't know how to help me." you teased, lying back under the control panel. Sonic whirring in hand.
The tips of Maisie's ears turned bright red as did her face, but she covered her embarrassment with the scolded and offended look etched on her face. "well- Shut up.. At least I'm trying to help." She crosses her arms over her chest. The feeling of shame is still there.
You snorted. "heh, thank you, truly" you replied, hands working under the control panel.
Maisie looked around uneasily. One hand rubbed the other hand uneasily. Being in this unsettling situation wasn't her first time but being in a situation in a strange place with aliens was her first time. The feeling of knowing danger but not knowing the danger made her uncomfortable.
This however caught Bounty's attention. Seeing this human who was not happy made him roll towards her with his big round mechanical eyes looking at her with interest. The old robot stopped near her feet. Mechanical head looked up at her.
Maisie looked down upon feeling like she was being watched and saw Bounty looking at her. She didn't say anything. The both of them looked at each other without saying anything. She tilted her head to the side a little, Bounty imitated her doing the same thing. Left and right, Bounty followed her with child like innocent.
She blinked, he blinked too. Maisie frowned and looked at you who still lay under the control panel, unbothered with the interaction between the two of you. You seemed to be so absorbed in what you were doing down there while humming a Bohemian Rhapsody under your breath. It seemed like Queen songs were all over the universe.
Maisie looked back at Bounty before she kneeled in front of him. Well, actually squatting in front of him to look at him better. His rusted head and body. Brown and old. Scratch all over his little body. Iron, obviously. Some gears could be seen moving in his body. Turning and turning non-stop. So were some channels that had black fluid in some visible places like blood vessels that flowed to the heart to be pumped through the body. Mechanical blood vessels. Only the oil that was brought to the mechanical heart, to keep him moving and alive.
Maisie stared at him before he muttered under her breath. "So are you her pet robot?"
Bounty beeped offended. This however made Maisie raise her hand in surrender.
"ok, not a pet robot." She put her arms back to her knees. She hummed.
"her friend?"
Bounty beeped approvingly while nodding. Maisie nodded.
"I see," she replied. "Tell me, is she always like that?" Maisie paused before she slapped her forehead. "Dammit. You can't talk" she cursed under her breath.
Bounty beeped, agreeing. That however made Maisie feel stupid for not noticing it.
"Right. So you're her friend and this ship is also her friend." Maisie concluded.
You got out from under the control panel and stood up and looked and pressed a few buttons on the control panel, testing. To your surprise, it seemed fully shut down and not working. You sighed in defeat. Eyes closed and you put your head on the control panel in resignation.
"He really shut down, eh" you muttered.
Maisie stood up and looked at you unsurely. "so, are we stuck here?"
"well, technically.. Usually he doesn't shut down like his emergency power or system doesn't fully shut down and I can still press some coordinates to get out of the area that makes him shut down. But this time it shuts down completely. Like whatever's out there, absorbing or messing with his system." you explained, not looking at her.
Maisie pursed her lips. "so I can't go back to my mom?"
"I guess.." you replied. before sighing. "depends on how long we're stuck here. It could be hours, days or years" you replied, shrugging.
Maisie's eyes widened before she walked quickly towards you with head shaking several times in panic. "no no no no, you don't mean it. I can't be here like this for a long time. My mom will worry about me, Hell she's probably worrying about me right now because I disappeared so suddenly. She's going to think that I was probably kidnapped or I don't know murdered? Hell, I just know that she'll file a police report after 24 hours of not seeing me and not knowing where I am and then the police will question my friends or people who last saw me and then when they don't find me anywhere, they will conclude that I was taken away abroad to be sold for organs or human trafficking-"
"wow wow wow, relax. Seriously, even though we've been stuck here for years, did you forget that I have a time machine? I mean, I can just take you back a few minutes earlier or a few minutes later and that nonsense you said wouldn't happen" you looked at her strangely.
Maisie still wasn't sure. Her hands trembled with anxiety. "ok, right.. I forgot about that but.. Stuck here for a long time with a place I don't know and who I'm with.. Yeah, everything will be ok"
You frowned. "well, I can assure you I'm not a man-eater"
Maisie looked at you sharply. You automatically fell silent.
"right.. Bad joke" you muttered. "But seriously, though.. I'm not what you think I am."
Maisie was still uneasy. "So what are we going to do here..?"
You hummed. "right. I can make an assumption that the reason why the TARDIS is like this is probably because there is something that wants us here. It has happened before but the TARDIS never shuts down when something like that happens." You looked at the control panel for a long time. "and usually I go investigate it. But right now, with The Brood out there, maybe it's not the best time to go investigate."
Maisie seemed to forget why the two of them were locked up in the TARDIS. "right those aliens who are going to turn us into one of them."
"and I don't like being a skunk," you grimaced.
"So if we can't go out and investigate. What are we going to do?" Maisie questioned.
"that.. That's the point. We wait. Either something comes to us or something happens while we wait" you leaned against the control panel, hands crossed over your chest.
Maisie made a face. "wha- We can't just.. wait. I mean well, yeah we wait but by not doing anything? That's.. wow.. Ok.. I don't know what to say"
You shrugged. "Unless you want to be a humanoid scorpion, be my guest. Actually, I changed my mind. Try to stay human.. I have no reason to give your mother why her daughter is a humanoid scorpion"
Maisie rolled her eyes. "oh great"
You nodded. "Great indeed. So-" you clapped your hands. "-fancy a game of clued-"
BANG.
BANG.
BANG.
You two immediately fell silent. You could hear a pin drop to the ground with how fast and silent you both became. The once noisy moment disappeared like sand blown by the wind with just 3 knocks on the door.
You looked at Maisie, Maisie looked at you. Two sets of eyes looked at each other before being directed to the dark blue door of the TARDIS. Two species of creatures looked at the door without saying anything. Letting the silent past before the same rhythm of knocks on the door sounded again but this time, you three, including Bounty walked slowly towards the door before you held out your hand to Maisie and Bounty who was behind you protectively.
BANG
BANG
BANG
"Doctor.."
"Stay behind me." you warned, walked slowly towards the door with a sonic screwdriver ready.
Hand reached towards the door knob, slowly you turned the door knob and pulled slowly. Waiting for whoever was out there with your hearts pounding.
But the only thing that appeared in front of your face was not The Brood. Instead the rifle was pointed at your face. You froze.
The hand holding the door was released and your two hands were raised in surrender showing that you were not dangerous. Sonic screwdriver already in pocket showing that you had no weapon in hand. If sonic screwdriver could be called a weapon.
"who the fuck are you?" a male voice growled outside.
You see a man in his late 50s, a rough bearded face and you see some scar on his right temple and on the bridge of his nose, thick silver hair on his head along with some black hair. He's wearing a black flannel shirt with some buttons open at the collar showing a little of his chest hair on his tan skin. He also has a backpack in the back with some stuff that you can see camping stuff along with some spare rifle sling on his shoulder. Boots and black pants complete his rough self.
"I ask again, who the fuck are you?" the man with his hoarse voice growled.
You shifted your posture and walked out of the TARDIS with your hands still raised. "hello, I'm Y/n.. uhh,, Well some call me The Doctor.. You can call me either of those." you introduced.
The man still pointed his rifle at your face. "Doctor? Are you one of those people?"
You frowned strangely. "what people?"
"The scientist. The one who claims they can cure all infected people. The one who makes empty promises about saving the world" the man spat in disgust. "Are you one of those crazy scientists?"
You blinked. "wow wow wow. Wait.. Listen. I don't know what you mean but I can assure you I'm not those scientist people you mean. " you reasoned.
"Yeah, I've heard this bullshit from them many times." he spat, finger already on the trigger.
"Wait, wait, wait. No no.. Listen. I can explain that I'm not them, ok.. Doctor is kind of my title like.. uh name? yeah my name is Doctor along with Y/n.. uh well,, that's my alias name but no no no I'm not the scientist you said. And please put the rifle away, I understand we're all in a bad situation but right now why don't we discuss it inside, eh? It's safer." you assure him.
He tsked. "So you can do an experiment on me? Is that how you want to trap people?" he said, his voice dripping with venom.
You shook your head. "nope no... I won't do anything to you, promise. It's just.. Well, if we want to talk about things for a long time, we might do it inside. Right now, those Brood can attack anytime"
"The Brood?" the man repeated.
"The infected people you called." you reply
His grip on his rifle is tight. "So you know what they are?"
The question makes you silent. You looked around the place carefully.
"We must go inside," you replied. Avoided the question.
The rifle is still pointed. "answer me" he growled.
You stared at him. "I'm a well traveler"
He scoffed. "that's the most stupidest answer I've ever heard"
You blink. "Fair."
Behind you, Maisie peeked around your shoulder.
The man immediately jerked the rifle towards her.
Maisie yelped.
"Whoa!" you quickly stepped between them. "Human! She's human!"
The man's eyes darted between both of you.
Then to the TARDIS.
Then back to you.
The blue box.
The strange clothes.
The young woman.
The tiny robot peeking through the doorway.
Nothing about any of this made sense.
Finally he lowered the rifle slightly.
Not completely.
Just enough.
But his guard still didn't drop.
That is actually an improvement on your part. But to him, not yet.
The man is now suspicious with the turned out event. Rifle now down, his posture still protective.
You sigh in relief. "Now, why don't we go in?"
The man clenched his jaw before he nodded and stepped in hesitantly on how this small police box could fit 3 people inside it. But he still entered without saying anything, just his eyes looking all over the TARDIS with silent awe.
His mind blank on how come inside this big police box.
As soon as he went in, you immediately closed the TARDIS door with a thud after making sure there are no unwanted eyes around. You then turn around and see the man looking around with a not so visible astonishment etched on his face. You rubbed both your hands on your shirt,
Maisie looked to be putting herself at a safe distance from this man and so was Bounty. Whoever this man is, he surely knows how to use those rifles if something goes wrong. One wrong move, well, you guess what happened.
You slowly walked towards the man and stopped at a safe distance too. Not letting the man feel that he was in danger. Though he wasn't.
"So uh, are you alone?" you questioned.
The man turned to look at you. "why? because you outnumber me and you think I don't know how to use this rifle?" he seethed, his grip on the rifle tightened
You raised your hand in surrender. "oh, no no.. It's just..uh, it's a little dangerous for you to be out there alone with the Brood. You know?" you reasoned. “Besides, I know you know how to use that rifle"
"Yeah? Then be sure to remember that" the man replied.
You nodded in understanding. "Yes, I understand." you saluted. "noted" you grinned.
Maisie looked at the man with concern. "But really though.. What are you doing alone out there?"
The man looked at her. "looking for some stuff."
"alone?"
"People slow me down," the man replied in his gruff voice.
"no partner?" you were now next to Maisie. Bounty lingered near you.
"no" he said simply.
"ok" Maisie nodded. And after that no question was asked by her.
You stepped forward. "well, now that we're all in the TARDIS-"
"TARDIS?" the man repeated.
You grinned cheekily. "Yes, my TARDIS. My home and ship"
The man scoffed. "ship? Bullshit. This is a police box."
"and you seem to not mind that it's big inside" you retorted.
The man was silent before he scoffed. "i'm not easily impressed"
You nodded with amusement. "Sure, sure" you grinned. "This is Maisie, my well.. She's a guest and Bounty, my companion.. We from.. Uh, well Maisie from Earth but not from this year.. uh.. me and Bounty come from anywhere" you grinned.
"what do you mean not from this year?" The man looked at you and Maisie like you were both crazy.
Maybe just you.
"ah, she's from.. how do I explain this.. " you snapped your fingers repeatedly trying to remember the year you were currently in not long before. "ahh 2012" you snapped your fingers.
The man raised his eyebrows. "2012?..tch, that's 64 years ago. Don't fucking with me"
"We're not." Maisie replied quickly. "We are from 2012.. 64 years ago, yes. Probably where the car is still on the road.. Not like.. uh flying or sort of" Maisie muttered under her breath.
You glanced at Maisie strangely before looking at the man. The man frowned.
“I remember, cars were still on the road before the world became like this.” the man replied, crossing his arms. “only crazy people make flying cars and end up dead”
Maisie looked away shyly. “right..”
You interrupted. “so! What's your name? You know, it’s not fair if we give you our name and you don’t tell us your name.”
The man looked at you sharply. “i don’t give my name to anyone”
You pursed your lips before nodding in understanding. “right.. Privacy.. So uh, what did people call you then? Or what name do you prefer us to call you?” you put your hands on your hips while raising an eyebrow at him.
The man tilted his head before he sighed. “i’ve been called many names.. But the one that always stuck is Texas because that’s where I came from”
Maisie's eyes widened. "Texas? That's a long way"
"There ain't far or near in this world now" Texas replied.
You nodded with understanding. You then clapped your hands. "right, back to our topic earlier. I don't think you're alone actually. Not to be weird or anything but. I know those Brood wouldn't let a lone human like you just walk away without making them one of them. You surely know how those Brood move if you survive in this world." you now leaned back you went to control, hands crossing over your chest.
Texas scoffed. "20 years of experience tend to do that to you"
Maisie frowned. "20 years? 20 years they've conquered the earth?"
Texas sighed. "What do I know, the outbreak started 20 years ago. But I think those Brood you're calling have probably been on earth for a long time. They just haven't grown big yet"
"The Brood usually doesn't take long to breed. They're greedy and quick to act. Their Queen rarely lets her kids breed for long enough to make an outbreak" you explained, starting to find this a bit strange.
Texas looked at you suspiciously. "so you did know this things"
You met his gaze. "Well, like I said earlier, I'm a well traveler. I see many things in my travels and the Brood is not a rare thing to happen on a planet I've landed on in terms of conquest." You cracked your fingers while you said that.
Texas walked closer to you. "then you know how to stop this"
You sighed. Bounty decided to wheel himself to his charging port and watched the interaction from his port. Maisie still stood where she was. Not knowing how to speak about things she wasn't familiar with and yet this was her world.. It was the future. She wondered what would happen to her and what happened to her mom. Whether she would survive or not.. She didn't know.
Oh, damn. She's in her 80s this year. No doubt her old self would survive this. Ceh.
You turned your back on him and looked at the control panel with jaw clenching. "i don't. The only way to stop them is to destroy the planet they have infected. I witnessed a lot of planets that have been destroyed before from various species of evil but this.. i know it's cruel and this is your planet but without them, other planets won't get the same thing." You turned back to look at Texas and Maisie,
Maisie looked at you with disbelief. "but.. they're not just here right? I mean.. there are many, aren't there? Out there."
you shook your head. "Queen Brood only has one meaning once the Queen decides to make one planet a place to breed then that's her offspring. The Queen doesn't have a husband or sort of partner. It starts with just one queen and then when the queen breeds her offspring and her children infect the population then that's them. Enough time and how many they have, they can infect other planets." you explained in detail. "That's why the infected planet needs to be destroyed."
"the cure those scientists said was, there ain't no cure" you added.
"So we need to kill the queen right? I mean you explained earlier that they were controlled by the queen. So if the queen dies then they die too, right?" Maisie made an assumption. "like the-"
"-the blood sucking alien in the hospital, I know. But this one is different. That blood sucking monster dies if we attack its hive mind but this one doesn't. Do whatever to the Queen, her children are still alive and keep breeding and infecting other creatures. That monster has only one goal, which is to make every living creature in the universe a colony of Brood. The end." you paused. "20 years is a bit long. They probably have infected other planets by this time." you looked at Bounty.
"Come here, boy. I want to check something" you beckoned your little robot.
Bounty made an 'affirmative' sound to you and wheeled towards you. The little robot stopped at your feet.
You kneeled down and started to press the back of the Bounty. A sound of scanning began to be heard. Texas and Maisie looked at you curiously.
BANG.
Everything stopped. The four of you stiffened. Eyes looked at each other. Texas' grip on his rifle tightened as he looked at the door. You stood up slowly with your gaze pinned to the door. Maisie shifted and moved close to the Bounty.
BANG.
Maisie jerked in surprise. This time, the banging got louder. Not loud enough to shake the TARDIS-
A sudden jerk made the four of you stagger inside the TARDIS. Something was moving the TARDIS from outside. Texas grabbed the rail, Maisie grabbed the control panel, Bounty grabbed your legs while you held the rail. That jerked enough to make a TARDIS shake. Whatever out there, they were either strong or had a machine to make the TARDIS shake this much.
Suddenly, a hologram appeared in front of you. You realize the scan you did earlier has loaded and now Bounty is displaying it.
Planet Earth is displayed before you, turning red to signal that the Brood has infected it. Then, another planet of the same red hue appears, followed by other planets emerging one by one before you, all glowing with that same burning red color.
You're right. 20 years is not a long time for them to spread to other planets. Over a thousand planets in outer space have been infected by them and Earth is the source.
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Just On the outskirt. (Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem! reader ft Soap)
Summary: little did you know...
Warning: FIRST SIMON RILEY FIC HERE. I wrote this from my heart (I've never dated anyone in my 20 years of life anyway) BUT I'VE BEEN LISTENING MALAY SONG COUNTLESS OF TIMES AND I FEEL LIKE I NEED TO WROTE IT WITH THIS SONG MEANING. high angst, obviously, cheating not exactly but it sure feels like one, one sided love, reader and Simon in a relationship, strain love, lost feeling, sad, change of heart. Second choice. Hurts no comfort.. something like that, trying to fix the relationship.
As usual, I'm sorry if there are any wrong sentences or typos or grammatical mistakes, please forgive me and again English is not my first language, so I try to improve my language and writing in this way.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
'at the bar with Johny. Might come back late'
The message popped up. If you scroll back to the old message, it's always the same sentence. It's like a template for him whenever he comes back late.
His reason. You know. The moment Simon's words are typing popping out, you know his reason for coming back late
He's been doing this the moment you two are dating. At first it was just an excuse to spend time with his friend after a deployment that took months.
You're like. That's okay, he deserves a break, he deserves to celebrate their return together at the bar. And then he goes to the bar, to dinner and to Johny's house. Things are, Gaz and Price are rarely mentioned by Simon.
You know his team through him. They sometimes come to the house to hang out or you invite them to dinner together.
But the message he always sends only mentions Johny. You know he and Johny have known each other for a long time. In fact, they fought a war together. Bleed together, hell on the same team.
It's not odd that they both hang out together. I mean, men. They always do some random shits together. Game night and all.
When you ask him about what he's doing, he always mentions something he did with Johny like
'yeah, me and the team got deployed somewhere. Johny take care of this...'
No matter what he does he doesn't hesitate to mention Johny's name as if Price and Gaz didn't deploy together. It's like the mission is just for him and Johny.
Heck, whenever you ask something about like something wrong with him, he always brush it off like it's nothing to worry about or nothing at all.
There was a moment where you asked him if he got anyone behind your back, he looked at you offended that lead to an argument between you two which ended up him sleeping on the couch and not talking for 5 to 6 days until one of you decided to apologize. Which is always you.
Thing is, the relationship between you two is getting strained. He always comes back late, always disappears before you wake up. His sweet treatment seems increasingly distant. Like he is getting more and more discouraged.
Like the old love is getting lost. The chemistry is getting less and less. Sour. Like poison that slowly poisons the system in the body. It hurts. The kind of hurts that you notice but can't quite identify.
He's been fine. Treats you like you normally would. Sleep next to you but his presence, the air around him seems different. Like a dark cloud. Cloudy.
And then there's Johny. The sun. You notice whenever he and Johny are together, he seems relaxed. Like his old self.
In comparison, if he's with you, you feel like he's there but at one point he's not. But looking at him with Johny, you notice like the air around him doesn't seem like cloudy or empty like when he's with you. Something like he's there.
That just hurts.
Not the loud kind. Not the kind that explodes into shouting or slammed doors.
It's quieter than that.
It settles in your chest like something heavy and cold, something that doesn't leave even when he's right next to you.
You don't remember when you started noticing the pattern so clearly. Maybe it was always there and you just… chose not to see it.
Or maybe it got worse.
Because now it's not just the message.
It's everything.
So worse that even when the two of you have a conversation it's getting a little dry. Thin. Like you two only talk when necessary.
Like you are not lovers but co-workers.
Thumb hovered on the screen. You fought with yourself whether to respond to it or not instead you just replied with -
'okay'
sent
Delivered
Two blue ticks indicating he read but didn't reply.
Only seen.
And then there's Johnny.
Always Johnny.
You try not to make it something ugly in your head. You really do.
They've been through war together. That kind of bond - people don't just understand it. You've told yourself that a hundred times.
But still…
You've seen Simon laugh. Not the small, quiet huff he gives you sometimes. A real one. Head tilted back slightly, shoulders loose, eyes not guarded. You saw it once when Johnny was over. And it hit you harder than any argument ever did.
Because it wasn't something he gave you anymore. It becomes rare.
To hear him laugh or say something not because he has to but because he needs to. He needs to say something to prove to you that he is right. This relationship is correct. Not because you are his second choice. Though he never said you were his second choice but damn sure it felt like it.
Like you weren't enough. All the love, the touches and the expressions weren't enough for him. That's why he looked for all that in Johny. Or so you thought. No. Not what you thought.
It's clear. Very clear. The clock ticks louder than usual.
You don't turn on the lights. The house feels too big tonight. Too empty for two people who are supposed to live in it. You sit on the edge of the bed, staring at nothing. And the thought comes back again. The one you keep pushing away.
Maybe it's not Johnny.
Your fingers curl into the bedsheet.
Maybe it's me.
Simon isn't cruel. He doesn't yell. He doesn't cheat... at least, not in any way you can prove. He still comes home. Still sleeps beside you. Still says your name the same way. But something is missing.
And the worst part?
You don't know when he stopped choosing you first.
In the blink of an eye. It's gone. Missing.
Did you fail?
Or worse. Did you lose?
In what? Loving him. Did Johny win? Did he win his heart? Did he get what Simon wanted? Did he enough?
The front door didn't open that night. No Simon sleeping next to you. He didn't come back yet. Perhaps something important going on. His bedside was cold that night.
You were cold that night even though you were wrapped in a blanket. No arms around you to share the warmth. No sweet nothing in your ears. No kisses from someone you love.
It was the next day you woke up from your sleep that you heard the door open. He didn't come back last night.
You sat up and stayed in bed for a while. Listening to him around the house. Not once did you call him like you usually do.
Asking him about his days or his work. Nothing. Because you knew he stayed at Johnny's place last night.
Soon, the shared bedroom was opened by Simon. He was still in the same outfit the last time you saw him come out last night. Only slightly wrinkled. He looked at you for a moment but didn't say anything. Neither did you. He walked inside slowly and moved to the bathroom.
You. Still didn't say anything. Listened to the water from the bathroom. It was at this moment that you realized that the spark you always felt between Simon and yourself was fading. Drastically. You didn't blame him. You didn't blame Johnny. In fact you didn't blame anything about the situation.
It was a feeling you had for yourself about Simon. You had suspected it for a long time. Perhaps you might call it overthinking for wrongly feeling that Simon had lost the feeling on you that he finds comfort in his friend. Perhaps it was just your feeling. You didn't know what you were doing wrong to him.
You almost laughed at yourself for blaming yourself for blaming yourself such as that actually. It was always this. The game that always ended up being your fault. Simon always reminds you of that. Not everything is your fault. Perhaps, you both had suspected that the relationship between you two was getting looser.
After what feels like an hour or so, that's all you feel, Simon finally comes out of the bathroom with damp hair and a clean shirt. His blonde wet hair sticking to his forehead before being rubbed with a towel to dry. He hooks the damp towel behind the bathroom door. You're still in the same place. Silent and not saying anything. Simon feels the tension. He steps forward to you and slowly leans back down next to you. The bed dips after he sits down. Not far and not close to you. Neither of you say anything. Only silent and not looking at each other.
For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence stretched. Not comfortable. Not angry. Just tired. Simon glanced at you.
"you're alright?" he spoke. You didn't look at him.
"fine" you lied or rather masked the pain with the words just to let Simon know.
Simon didn't say anything. He knew what the words meant. You weren't okay. And he know why. Seems like you're not the only one feeling this much tension. It's been months. Months of avoidance but not really avoiding. He's there but not truly there.
"we need to talk" you said, not looking at him.
"yes" he replied.
You were silent for a moment before sighing. "i think you know what I'm talking about"
Simon was silent. "yes" he muttered now looking at you side face.
You sighed slowly and looked at him tiredly. "I'm not mad at you"
Simon didn't say anything.
you continued. "I'm just hurt that you didn't tell me that you felt differently. On us." you looked at your hand in your lap.
Simon still didn't say anything.
"I've been noticing things and I don't blame you for finding comfort in another person besides me..." you blinked. "and I don't blame you if you feel like I'm not enough for you" tears started to fall from your eyes.
Simon's hand finding you. He held your hand tightly with thumb rubbing the back of your hand.
You let him.
"I never said you weren't enough" he replied.
"you didn't have too" you replied.
Simon held your hand tightly. That made him look away. Because it was true.
People didn't always need words to leave. Sometimes they left little pieces of themselves behind every day until there was almost nothing left.
"you stopped looking at me" you said, voice cracked. Another tear slid down your cheek.
"every time I need you. You're not there" you added.
Simon opened his mouth. Closed it again. Because he knew. He knew exactly what you meant.
The messages.
The late nights.
The distance.
The way he would come home exhausted and immediately retreat into himself.
The way conversations became shorter.
The way he would stare at his phone instead of you.
The way he seemed somewhere else entirely.
And the worst part? You had spent months trying to convince yourself it wasn't happening.
"I thought..." You swallowed hard. "I thought maybe you just needed space."
"I did" Simon squeezed your hand tighter.
You nodded slowly. "I know."
"But that's not the whole truth."
Your chest is tight.
Simon lowered his head.
For the first time in months, he looked genuinely tired. Not physically. Emotionally.
"I didn't know how to talk to you."
This however makes you frown.
"what does it mean?"
"It means I was drowning" he replied. His jaw clenched. "and every time I looked at you, I felt guilty for it" he confessed. "think I found comfort somewhere else? I wasn't running to Johnny because I wanted someone else. Was running because talking to him was easy"
Your heart hurts at that. Not because it was cruel. Because it was honest.
"With him, I didn't have to explain why I was angry all the time. Or exhausted. Or scared." His voice dropped lower. "With you, I wanted to be better."
A tear slipped from Simon's eye before he could stop it.
"and i wasn't"
You stared at him. Simon 'Ghost' Riley. A soldier who people were afraid of how cold and quiet he is now looking so vulnerable and heartbroken and human. Something only you can see because it's about you and him. Something private that only two parties can solve.
He shook his head. "I've been noticing too. How distant we've been lately. Was trying to talk to you about it but.. I don't know how so i waited. Only for it to become months" he laughed bitterly.
"and you never did"
"-no"
The answer came immediately.
There was no defense.
There was no excuse.
Only the truth was released.
You stared at him for a moment. Before letting out a heavy sigh and surrendering. It was like something heavy to release from your chest. But it was very hard to let go.
"Do you still love me?"
Simon's entire face crumpled. Not dramatically. Not loudly but just enough for you to see how much that question hurt him. Broke him. Destroy him.
"is there any more of us for you?" you added.
Simon looked away. "i never stopped" He looked at you again. "I just stopped knowing how to show it. How to see anymore of us."
The room fell silent again. But for the first time in months, it wasn't the silence of avoidance. It was the silence of two people finally looking at the wound instead of pretending it wasn't there.
"I failed to be better for you. I failed you and us because I was afraid to lose you that I looked for Johnny instead of talking to you about this. I failed in being the person who can comfort you when you need it." he sighed heavily. "and i failed to know if there is anymore of us to fix it"
You nodded in resignation. Having expected the answer. "well then.. there's nothing more to say"
Simon flinched. You put his hand to wipe him again before getting up making Simon look up at you. You stared at him with your puffy and red eyes.
"is he making you happy?" you ask
Simon was silent. But then he muttered. "yes"
"is he making you feel safe?"
"yes"
You nodded. "Okay" you walked towards the bathroom door.
"Wait" Simon stood up.
You stopped and turned towards him.
Simon looked like he wanted to say something that would save everything.
Crowley (Good Omens) (actually it's Anthony Crowley.. Human)
The Cipher between us new chapter
And probably some new horror fictional character fic ✨
idk when I'm going to post these fics but stay tuned! Cuz currently I'm still trying to find a place for an internship (which I'm still waiting for some response from where i apply) HAPPY THURSDAY Y'ALL
Warning: sorry it takes a long time for new updates. Writer block and college been killing me since the start of this year. High angsty, major character death, love, one shot fic, sad, Arthur deserve better, he deserves sunshine. Short one cuz i need to try to get back into writing different timeline. Reader from today timeline, Arthur from the past.
As usual, I'm sorry if there are any wrong sentences or typos or grammatical mistakes, please forgive me and again English is not my first language, so I try to improve my language and writing in this way.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
You found the journal in an antique bookstore tucked between a laundromat and a vape shop on the edge of your town. The shop was dim, filled with the scent of dust and time - pages too old to speak, shelves whispering of forgotten hands. You weren’t searching for anything special that day. Just walking. Just thinking.
But the leather-bound book called to you. Its surface cracked with age, gold-embossed edges flaked away by fingers long gone. It had no title. No date. Just… presence.
When you brought it home, the pages were blank.
Completely.
Yet something told you to keep it.
That night, sitting by the window with rain tapping against the glass and the hum of city life faint outside, you wrote:
“The world feels loud, and I feel small. I don’t know why I’m writing in this. Maybe it just feels less lonely this way.”
You closed the book, tucked it beneath your pillow, and went to sleep.
The next morning, you found something new.
Not your handwriting.
It was rough, older, slanted - written in ink that looked faded but not smeared.
“It don’t gotta feel so lonely, miss. I reckon I don’t mind listening.”
You stared at it for a long time. Your heart stumbled, like it forgot how to beat.
You blinked. Flipped pages. Nothing else.
You picked up your pen.
“Who are you?”
Moments passed.
Then slowly, like a breath in winter air, letters formed.
“Name’s Arthur Morgan.”
“Where are you?”
“Camp. Horseshoe Overlook. Out in the Heartlands.”
Your brows furrowed. You’d never heard of it. Not in real life.
So you searched. You googled. You pulled up maps.
And it wasn’t on the map. Not now.
But in old records? yes. In dated documents, faded articles from the 1800s, there it was. A region of high ridges, tree-lined cliffs, wide rivers. Settlements long vanished.
The more you wrote, the more he replied.
You told him about smartphones. Microwaves. Music you loved. He asked strange, curious questions.
“So y’mean to tell me folks today carry telegraphs in their damn pockets?”
He made you laugh. You made him smile.
Through the weeks, you learned his voice.
You learned how he softened when you asked about his horse, how quiet he grew when he mentioned the gang, and how gentle he became when he called you “darlin’.”
You told him about your loneliness. Your anxiety. How the world often moved too fast, how sometimes it felt like you were drifting.
He never told you to "just get over it." He never tried to fix you.
He just stayed.
Night after night, entry after entry.
You fell in love slowly, like autumn creeping into summer.
And then, one evening, you asked.
“Arthur… what year is it for you?”
There was a long pause before he answered.
“1899.”
The pen slipped from your hand.
You covered your mouth.
And typed the name.
Arthur Morgan. Outlaw. Van der Linde gang. Died in 1899. No social media. No modern photo. Just a whisper in time, buried beneath fictional retellings and the forgotten west.
You stared at the journal.
“You’re already gone,” you wrote.
He replied. “Not to me. To me, you’re right here.”
You cried that night. Not loud. Just softly, into your pillow, the journal resting beside you like a ghost with weight.
You kept writing.
But the ink grew thinner. His words slower. Fainter.
Until one morning, you opened the book and there was nothing.
No reply.
No new words.
You wrote pages.
“Please, come back.”
“Arthur.”
“I miss you.”
“I need you.”
Nothing.
Not even a flicker.
And then the journal was gone.
You tore apart your apartment. The shelves, the closets. Nothing.
It had disappeared.
Just like him.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Weeks passed. You didn’t laugh much. Friends didn’t understand. How could they? You had fallen for a man who existed only in ink and whispers, who walked a world of horses and smoke while you lived in the buzz of neon and static.
Eventually, you joined a friend on a camping trip. You weren’t in the mood, but something about the idea of wilderness - open sky, trees, firelight - felt like breathing again.
The campsite was deep in New Hanover, along cliffs where rivers carved like veins into stone. It wasn’t meant to mean anything.
Until you wandered.
Until you climbed the ridge where the wind curled in golden grass and sat on a weathered rock, a stone warmed by sun and time.
And saw it.
A carving.
Faint.
Worn.
“Y/N.”
Etched beneath it, in slow, scratched letters:
“+ A. Morgan.”
And one more:
“Still with you.”
Your breath hitched.
The sky blurred.
You sank to your knees and touched the stone like it might vanish.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Good Omens Season 1 & 2 Full Logoless Episodes Download
Season 1:
6 files
Season 2:
6 files
INFORMATION:
Quality: 1080p (HD)
Channels: 6
Language: English (original)
File type: mp4 (suitable for video editors)
Subtitles: No
Watermark: No (see disclaimer for season 2)
Free: Yes
DISCLAIMERS:
General: The following episodes are NOT intended for commercial use. Personal use only (edits etc).
General #2: All files are virus-free and safe to open and download.
For season 1: These files were previously uploaded by someone else, however since I cannot find the link, I re-uploaded them. If you are the rightful owner of the files above and wish for them to be removed, please contact me. I do not take credit for these files.
For season 2: Regarding the watermark, there is one that appears at the bottom of the screen for 30 seconds around the 15 minute mark for each episode. For the most part it does not affect extremely important scenes. There is no other logo or watermark before or after these 30 seconds, and even this can be cropped out if necessary.
Also for season 2: These files were converted from mkv format to mp4 format and uploaded to mega.nz by me. Credit is welcome but not required. Thank you.
Finally playing Modern Warfare and I'm in love with him again and again 😛 plus i did failed a lot of missions and rounds on both MW and Codm just because I'm busy admiring him 🥰
Finally playing Modern Warfare and I'm in love with him again and again 😛 plus i did failed a lot of missions and rounds on both MW and Codm just because I'm busy admiring him 🥰
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Hey! I just wanted to let you know that I reported your account when I meant to report someone else. It was a mistake, and I hope it didn’t cause any problems. If you want to see the ticket Tumblr sent me, let me know I can’t message you directly for some reason.
I've seen this trick before, my friend.
DON'T FALL FOR IT! (Good thing i set my message to followers only 🥰) might as well tagged others just to warn this
