#(((((((':

So about the gnomes?

NOCTIS  KNOWS  WHAT  HE’S  IN  FOR   the  second  he  hears  a  screech  from  his  best  friend,   hears  the  sound  of  footsteps  breaking  into  a  run  as  they  draw  nearer.   he’s already prepared himself for the inevitable,  by the time prompto arrives,  loops an arm around noctis’s neck and  assaults  him with a full nelson and noogie combo.

“  h - hey,  get off  !  ”   he tries,  only half - heartedly,  to give prompto a good shove off of him,  continues his  ‘ struggle, ’  until  ------

i  finally  got  a  date  !

“  no kidding  ?  ”   and he sees his opening,  anyway,  as prompto goes on  ---  he slides himself out of the hold.  and though he crosses his arms,  shifts his weight to one leg and leans back almost too casually,  it’s in his eyes that prompto will see how  happy  noctis is for him.

we  gotta  stay  !   tell  iggy  we  gotta  stay  !   she  doesn’t  even  care  that  i’m  ------

he doesn’t need prompto to finish the sentence,  although he still wishes for a world where prompto wouldn’t even need to  start  it.   he remembers the first time he met prompto,  helped him after he’d stumbled,  with some effort  ---  you’re  heavy  ---  and he very nearly didn’t realize the effect his words had,  hadn’t even  thought  about it until he saw the way prompto’s head had drooped.

------  w - wait.   sorry.   i  ---  i didn’t mean it that way.

he’d  tried  to apologize,  anyway,  but the next time he saw prompto,  it was almost like he was  avoiding  him  ------  or,  rather,  it was like he  wanted  to talk to him,  never could summon the courage to do so.   then,  one day,  while noctis had decided to walk home from classes,  he saw prompto,  running.

noctis didn’t like to think that he was running  because  of noctis  ------  didn’t want to assume anything,  didn’t want to seem  self - absorbed,  because if he was running for himself,  fine.   but his gut told him to speak up.

hey  ---  look,   about  the  other  day  ---it’s  cool  !   i’m  not  mad.right.   listen,   if  you’re  doing  this  for  you   ---   i  don’t  know,   keep  at  it,   i  guess.   but  if  this  happens  to  be  for  me,   because  of  what  i  said   ---   don’t.   you’re  fine  the  way  you  are.   you  do  you   ---   and  anyone  who  has  an  issue  can  answer  to  me.   yeah  ?

and he’s glad that prompto didn’t try for such a dramatic change.   he adores his best friend  ---  just the way he is.   and he’s almost exasperated it took this long for someone else to see precisely what he sees.

“  ---  nor should she,  ”   noctis answers,  resolute.   “  that’s  great  news,  prompto.   it’s gonna go great.  ”   he claps a hand on his friend’s shoulder,  brings him back in for a half hug that  he’s  in control of.

connor considers himself lucky,  because he knows that he can’t trust the other cops in his precinct to  ---  well,  not  be racist.   he knows that if it weren’t  him  showing up to control the situation,  he’d see markus in a holding cell,  or shot.   no amount of evidence against leo would stop the others from believing the man if he said that markus had been the one to attack him.

his father hates responding to those calls because of the  actual  threat,  leo  ;   has always been nervous about connor seeing markus for that reason.   but leo’s done enough damage this time to put him away for a long while,  he hopes.   and he trusts that if something  had  happened to connor,  hank would know who to believe.   and he trusts that with leo out of the way now,  he’ll be far more amenable to the prospect of his and markus’s relationship.

connor considers himself lucky  that markus is  okay.   markus has instilled in him the most warm and pleasant feelings sprouting from his chest,  all throughout him.   he feels warm at the thought of him,  feels at ease just to hear his voice.   without him,  he felt cold,  inhuman.   he doesn’t want to feel that way ever again.   he doesn’t want to be in a world without markus’s light.

but,  he can tell that markus is badly hurt.   not just from doing a once - over of his condition  ------  he can see it in his attempts to flex his fingers,  as connor carefully takes markus’s hand in his own,  brushes his thumb across his knuckles with the softest of touches.   he can  hear  it in his voice,  especially in that pained whine  ---  a noise that he’s  sure  markus didn’t intend on sounding quite so pained.

y’gotta  stop  blaming  yourself  for  everything,   babe.

he sighs,  doesn’t answer,  isn’t quite sure  how  to,  is unsure of how to express how he feels  ------  instead he lifts markus’s hand so carefully to his lips,  brushes them carefully across his knuckles.

leo’s  an  asshole,   and  my  dad  and  i  have  ------------  an  ‘ arrangement. ’

“  an arrangement,  ”   he echoes,  brows furrowed,  perplexed.   “  about  ...   leo  ?  ”

there’s  nothing  you  could  have  done.

connor doesn’t believe that  ;   there’s  always  other paths that could have been taken.   one different choice could have put himself in front of markus  ;   but he won’t  express  that out loud,  though,  knows there’s no use in it.   he doesn’t want to remind markus that he  would  put himself in front of markus for anything,  because he knows markus  knows,  and he knows markus  hates  it.

now,   quit  moping  over  there  and  come  hold  me.

another sigh,  although this time,  there’s a soft smile pulling at connor’s lips,  and he kicks off his shoes and stands from his seat,  frees markus’s hand.   “  i’m going to move you over a little,  ”   he warns,  because he absolutely doesn’t want markus to attempt to move himself  ;   carefully sets his hands to shift markus closer to the other side of the bed,  just enough so that he can squeeze himself in,  slide his arms around markus and curl up around him.

“  ------------  better  ?  ”   he asks,  a teasing smile upon his lips,  and he presses a tender kiss to his cheek  ;   settles his hand upon his cheek,  kisses his forehead,  the bridge of his nose,  his lips.

“  i  am  glad that you’ll be okay,  ”   he breathes,  finally allowing himself to relax.   “  i was so  ---  afraid.  ”   as afraid of losing markus as he was of losing cole.   maybe more  ---  because this fear was of losing someone  else  who mattered to him,  because connor has so few.   because markus would have been the second person he’s lost due to an incident related to drugs.

one would think that with the life danny has lived,  he would know better than to want to think that nobody could ever possibly conceive of doing this to actual people.   danny doesn’t  want  to believe that this was orchestrated,  that somebody,  or worse,  some people,  deliberately brought them to this planet just to be thresher maw  chew  toys.

at the same time,  as much as he doesn’t want to believe,  he can’t say he’s  surprised.

their entire squad is  dead,  now.   it’s just the two of them.   and danny doesn’t know if they’re going to be rescued in time  ------  maybe they’ll be stranded until the thresher maws finally finish picking what’s left of the two of them apart.   what danny  does  know is that there’s still even the smallest chance that help will arrive in time,  and if that’s the case then there’s no way in hell kaidan isn’t coming back with him.   bad enough danny couldn’t help the rest of their squad.   he’ll be damned if he can’t help kaidan.

and kaidan seems to know this,  as much as he wanted to try to protest before,  and he feels the grip on his wrist slacken,  and it’s such a warm touch against his cheek  ------  even by clammy hands belonging to a man bleeding almost to death,  the touch is  revitalizing  ;   makes him feel like,  just for a moment,  he’s back  home.

i  have  something  to  tell  you.   but,  you  have  to  come  back.

maybe for the first time,  it won’t be  only  for his kids that he stays alive.   and for the first time since the monsters struck,  there’s a smile on danny’s lips.

“  be back in a  flash.  ” 

and he’s gone just as fast,  with only so much ammo left in his rifle and a reopened gash in his arm,  disappearing beneath a tactical cloak.

and kaidan will wait:   three minutes,  five,  ten,  in silence.   and then he’ll hear sudden bursts of gunfire   (  danny’s got a backpack filled with leftover gear on his back,  and there’s  two  of those godforsaken things on him,  and not even on the streets of southie did he know  fear  like this  ).

he’ll hear the roars of the two thresher maws,  a smoke grenade  ------  and out there danny’s blinded them temporarily,  his tactical cloak has cooled off enough that he’s hiding beneath it again as he escapes,  all silence,  impressing himself that he’s not screamed or cried  once   (  not  yet  ).   adrenaline rushes through him,  and he’s never run so fast in his life.   and he re-enters their hideout,  and his face is covered in blood,  both his own and the thresher maws’,  and his legs give out in front of kaidan immediately  ------

and  now  he’s crying,  but he’s not going to make a big show of it,  because he  has  to open the bag,  show off the spoils,  a resupply of first aid and  food.

“  ------------  ho - ly  shit,  i ran like i w - was gunnin’ fawra touch down,  i’m - i’m tellin’ ya.   whole  hic  !   hundred - yahd dash an’ all.  ”   he’s trying to wipe his face,  his eyes,  so fervently,  and he’s huffing and puffing like he’s trying to ride out a panic attack   (  he  is  ).   “  i - i need ya t’ vouch fah me when i go try out foah th’ - th’ pats though.   yeah  ?  ”

a beat.   he’s managed to scoot himself even  closer  to kaidan,  graduated from his knees to sitting right on his ass,  and he’s pulling out medical supplies   (  even through tears  ),  ready to redress kaidan’s wounds.

“  look at all this,  ‘uh  ?   we’ah gonna have ya feelin’  fresh  in no time.   whew  !   an’ y’ can’t fuhget t’ tell me what y’ was gonna tell me.   i was makin’  guesses  while i was out theah ‘baht what it was gonna be.  ”   like if he rambles enough,  he’ll calm himself down.   “  i’d  tell  ya what my guesses ah,  but i don’ wanna ruin it fah myself,  yanno what i mean  ?  ”

fuck  new york   (  if the both of them make it out,  he’ll say it to nathen’s face  ).

he might not be bothered by the gun that’s occasionally pointed in  his  direction  ;   what  is  bothering him  ------  what is  terrifying  him  ------  is that their captor was a millisecond away from pulling the trigger on  taylor,  all the while screaming at everyone on the other end of that call   (  and nathen’s loud,  panicked voice was unmistakable in response  ).

tell  me  you  did  it,   or  this  kid   dies  ! you  better  fucking  tell  this  dickhead  everything  !

maybe it’s lucky that this isn’t danny’s  first,  that he’s the one on this train alongside taylor and not nathen.   the both of them might be dead already otherwise   (  still,  danny isn’t sure he won’t throw himself at their captor the next time he points a gun in their direction  ).

can  i  tell  you  something  ?

a wary glance in the direction of the gunmen,  and danny’s nodding,  subtle.

i  was  going  to  see  if  he  wanted  to  adopt  me  officially.

and there’s something in danny’s chest that  seizes  up on him,  makes it that much harder to breathe for just a moment.   and if he’s certain of anything,  it’s that he’s getting this kid off this train alive   (  he thinks of his own kids:   he’s getting the  both  of them off this train alive,  one way or another  ).

“  yoah not going to,  ”   he finally says,  still quiet,  but firm.   “  y’ got me  ?   yoah puttin’ those papuhs in ya fathah’s hands himself on fathah’s day.   ‘cause i  know  he’ll say yes.   theah ain’t nothin’ in this univuhse that he cayuhs abaht moah’n you.  ”

another beat  ;   he quiets himself as the patrolmen pass by,  one end of the train and back to the next,  as one of them looks his way.   he’s looked like he’s been suspicious of everyone all night,  but now danny’s paranoid.

they’re out of earshot again.   danny continues.