The rest of the Gathering was spent mapping out the plan in detail, with even apprentices piping up to offer suggestions or ask questions that led to discovering holes in ideas that were quickly filled. It was a dark sort of unity to experience, a harmony of first-degree murder and danger. Fireheart wasn’t sore about that. He’d take any chance for the Clans to be friends as tightly as they were in this moment.
It was a particularly long Gathering; the leaders announced the ending late in the night when the moon was about to disappear behind the Houses. ThunderClan was not tired as they ran home, feeling the rush in their blood of a long-time nightmare finally being forcibly put to rest. No one spoke on the return trip, but the air sang with excitement and determination.
“There you all are,” Willowpelt said when Fireheart pushed through the tunnel and ended his race to camp. “What in the world took you so long? Not the dog, was it?”
“Yes and no,” Fireheart said. “Is Dustpelt home?”
“Right here.” The new deputy poked his head out of the elder’s den and trotted up to him, the elders themselves slowly following. “The hunting patrols have been back for a while. What happened?”
Fireheart unconsciously kneaded the sand. “We have a light of hope for us, and all the Clans. If anyone’s asleep, please call them out here.”
Dustpelt gave one brisk nod before twisting around and hurrying to the warriors’ den. Fireheart made his way to the meeting stump and stood atop it, his tail dancing energetically.
Soon, every member of the Clan was outside again, and quickly they clustered around the stump. Those that had stayed here were casting curious looks at the Gathering-goers, who were just as visibly excited as Fireheart was, but were not saying a word.
“I’m sorry we’re late coming home,” Fireheart began. “You have Ravenwing to thank for that, and I mean it genuinely.” Ravenwing didn’t quite flinch from that, but he did lower his head a little sheepishly. “The Clans have all reported seeing only one remaining dog, and humans are walking around looking for it. We came up with a plan to weaponize them to kill the dog, and every Clan is involved in this—”
Before he could finish his sentence, ThunderClan burst with noises of surprise and delight. He waited for them to quiet down before continuing.
“ThunderClan has been given the option to sit this one out and recover from everything that’s happened to us,” he said. He felt his eyes crinkle. “But I told the others, and I’m sure you would too, that we want to have a paw in on ending this dog’s haunting of our homes.”
“Damn right!” Sandstorm shouted. Her fur flared with bloodthirsty excitement, her claws out and catching the very last bit of moonlight. She looked ready to run out right now and kill the beast herself.
Several calls echoed her, some jumping in place and others growling their eagerness with a lash of their tails. From the back of the crowd, Brightpaw stood taller than she had since she was attacked, her single eye blazing hopefully, even as her own tail shivered nervously.
“I thought so,” Fireheart said with a purr. “So here’s the plan:
“Each Clan will have a scout ready on their border, checking for the dog and for humans. When the dog is spotted, WindClan will send out a cat to lure the dog onto RiverClan territory, if there are humans around with a rronakrak. If they’re closer to ShadowClan, the dog will be led that way, but we’re banking on RiverClan’s fields, since that’s where the humans have been the most. ThunderClan’s part in this is to serve as bait, pass on the chase to the WindClan cat, and follow after them and the dog as backup. We stand the most chance to distract it with aggression if it’s taking a bit for the human to show up, but—” He leaned forward, emphasizing his words “—we are not to engage it in anything but a chase. No one needs to die being a hero, and if it’s too much for us, we can fall back and let the other Clans deal with the rest.”
“What, no being torn apart for strangers?” Teaselfoot asked with joking sadness.
“No being torn apart for our neighbors, even if they are our friends,” Fireheart said firmly. “The Clans are going to wait four days for the dog to make itself known and for an armed human to show up. If it doesn’t, but we have the human by that time, we’ll send our fastest cats and best trackers to find it and engage the dog, then lead it to the human. WindClan and RiverClan have cats waiting on their borders for our signal, and ShadowClan is watching the Aulmir. We signal them as soon as we see the dog, and once we’re all ready, we start the plan. Does that all make sense?”
He was replied to by many nods and verbal confirmations. Tension settled over the crowd, mixed with eagerness to see this mission through.
“Good,” Fireheart said. “Then let’s rest up and be at the ready. If anyone wants to be the scout, speak to me. If not, I’ll choose one tomorrow.”
“This is ridiculous.”
Fireheart blinked in surprise, now seeing Darkstripe glaring at him from the back of the gathered cats.
“Is there a problem?” Fireheart asked politely, trying to fight back irritation.
“Yeah, there is,” Darkstripe growled. “You’re commanding us all to take part in a death trap.”
Mousefur turned her head to him, unusually annoyed. “We all agreed to do it, Darkstripe. The other Clans gave us an out and we aren’t taking it as a group.”
Darkstripe twitched his lip at her. “You’re just doing it because our ‘leader’ makes it sound like it’s such a good idea. All it’s going to do is kill us, and you’ll lament that you ever listened to him.”
“Darkstripe…” Fireheart took in a breath, trying to speak calmly. “You don’t have to participate with us, if you don’t want to. It’s an option for everyone.”
The dark tabby sneered at him. “And what, make myself look like a twit-headed coward because I’m the only sensible one?”
“You’re more than a twit-headed coward,” Greystripe growled. “You’re a slitprick and an idiot.”
Darkstripe whipped his head around to glare at Greystripe. “Excuse me?”
“And you’re being extremely obvious,” Ravenwing said sharply. “Quit being so petulant about everything just because Fireheart’s in charge. Are you that sore about it—?”
“You don’t know a thing!” Darkstripe snapped, bristling. “None of you do! You just accepted a kit not even two winters old as your leader, when he’s nowhere near qualified and doesn’t do a single thing right!”
Fireheart sighed. You are being obvious.
“Don’t yell at them,” he said, jumping down from the meeting stump and heading into the crowd that quickly parted to let him through. “Talk to me. I’m your issue.”
Darkstripe bared his teeth, claws in the sand as Fireheart approached. “I don’t need to waste words on you. None of us do. You’re weak and soft-hearted and a traitor, and you should’ve been kicked out of the Clan half a year ago.”
Fireheart restrained his own anger, simply meeting Darkstripe’s glare calmly. “I understand what you’re actually upset about. You haven’t been subtle about it. But it had to be done, even if I didn’t want it to.”
Darkstripe’s pale yellow eyes bored into Fireheart’s green, for once maintaining contact. “You don’t know a thing about anything. You or your stupid friends. You ruined everything.”
Fireheart let out a breath and tried to keep his tail from twitching. “I know how you feel, Darkstripe. You and I are both hurting—the whole Clan is, even if we aren’t allowed to talk about it. But Arpam—”
“DON’T YOU DARE CALL HIM THAT!” Darkstripe’s fur stuck out at every angle, his back arching. “He wasn’t your father!”
Ah.
Realization, perfect understanding, struck Fireheart’s mind. But sympathy, for once, did not strike his heart. Instead, long-boiling frustration suddenly chilled, icing him to the core of his bones and biting into his tongue, poisoning his words.
“And he didn’t even pretend to be yours,” he said coolly. “You still haven’t realized it, have you?”
Darkstripe stilled, confusion distorting his enraged face.
“You weren’t anything to him except a clingy, annoying former apprentice.” Fireheart’s eyes narrowed just a fraction. He could feel the chill coming out of them. “Didn’t you ever notice that he never started a conversation with you? He only spoke when you forced him to—otherwise, he was busy talking to Goldenflower. Or to me. You know, the one he chose as family.” Eyes narrowed a bit more. “You, though, made him afraid to start a family at all. We talked about that a couple times, when we were in the woods on father-son walks. He told me himself. All you did was cause him trouble and make him look bad as a mentor.”
Every single eye in camp was on Fireheart, and the shock emanated out of them, prickling his fur. He didn’t care. His gaze was zeroed in on Darkstripe’s growing confusion and faltering anger, and, deliciously, swelling self-doubt.
“That—” Darkstripe started. “That’s not true at all—”
“Then why didn’t he so much as look at you during the trial?” Fireheart took one step forward. Darkstripe scrambled backwards. “Why didn’t he ask you to defend him? Why weren’t you the one who stayed by his side, comforting him as he took his final breaths?” Mockingly, Fireheart widened his eyes in realization. “Why, that’s right! You were hiding in camp, cowering, because big mean Bluestar told you to shut up, weren’t you?” He enunciated his words with careful emphasis. “You never crossed his mind at all. He looked at Sandstorm before he even thought of you.”
Several attempts at words spat from Darkstripe’s mouth, but he had nothing. He almost looked afraid as Fireheart continued.
“But I was there,” he said. “I was the last thing he ever saw. I stayed by his side through everything, and when he left camp, I was the last one he looked at. I was the one who he adopted. Who made him want a family. Who he rescued before I could get hurt by one of his traps. Who he loved as his very own son.”
Darkstripe started shaking, every hair trembling individually.
“Isn’t that sad?” Fireheart tilted his head, his voice maliciously soft. “A kittypet meant more to him than you ever did. How do you plan to live with that?”
A dark grey paw flung upwards, claws out, like Darkstripe was about to hit him. His teeth were bared, his pale yellow eyes blazing, his ears pinned against his head. He was wheezing out his rage.
Fireheart looked him straight in the eyes, his own half-closed in a stony challenge.
Go on, his gaze said. It won’t change anything. He still didn’t love you.
Darkstripe almost hyperventilated, mouth open like he was about to speak…
Then he whipped around and stormed away, almost rushing to the camp entrance and disappearing through it in an instant. His steps and hard breathing faded quickly.
Through the stretch of silence that followed, Fireheart closed his eyes and took in a long, steadying breath. The chill released its grip on him, his stomach and bones warming again.
Ravenwing was the one to break the silence, sounding both awed and horrified. “Fireheart…”
“I know.” Fireheart breathed out and opened his eyes. “That wasn’t very kind of me.”
Sandstorm looked the way Darkstripe had gone, her eyes glittering. “That was kinda awesome. You should have done that a long time ago.”
Fireheart twitched his whiskers mirthlessly. “I should go after him—”
“Absolutely not,” Dustpelt said, stern. “We need you to stay safe while the dog’s out. He’ll come back on his own.”
The Clan muttered small agreements, things like “let him throw his tantrum” and “we need to rest”. Fireheart observed all of them, marveling how no one looked remotely sorry for Darkstripe.
Frankly, he wasn’t either. He didn’t know if he liked that.
“Alright,” he said aloud. “Let’s call it a night and rest. We’ll be ready tomorrow.”
---
Darkstripe did not come back on his own. In fact, he didn’t come back at all.
A night passed with no sign of him, even from Teaselfoot, who was stationed as a scout. He didn’t sound particularly sorry to report that the tabby was completely gone.
“Maybe the dog killed him,” Greystripe said hopefully.
Fireheart thwapped him with his tail, but was silent himself. He marveled at the total lack of concern on his Clanmates’ faces.
Another night went by, and then another. Still no Darkstripe.
There was no trail to follow: no blood, no stray hairs, no marked trees. Mousefur thought she caught something by the road, but no one was keen to investigate more thoroughly, not with the dog around.
“I should send someone to find him,” Fireheart said to Goldenflower as the two sat and ate together. “He could be in trouble.”
“That’s what he deserves, honeymouse.” Goldenflower rested a massive paw on his. “You did the right thing by getting him to leave. I’m sure he’s in the Houses or the Aulmir by now, and good riddance to him.”
“I don’t,” Goldenflower said. Her eyes had a glint of anger in them. “And even if we found him, he wouldn’t come back. He shouldn’t. He was never built for Clan life.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, he was a cuckoo chick from birth.” The matriarch sighed, her back-fur visibly forcing itself to relax. “Always arguing, always about to get into a fight, always picking on smaller and younger cats. His… mentor…. was the only one he ever respected. I don’t know what’s wrong with him, but he never got better.” She lowered her voice. “Truthfully, he was the only kit I’ve ever taken care of that I didn’t like.”
“Huh,” was all Fireheart could say. He looked down at his mole, processing. “He… must have been pretty awful. He never seems happy about it, though. He’s always some degree of miserable.”
“And it was entirely his own fault.” Goldenflower’s claws carded the sand below her stretched-out legs. “I can assure you his father and his brother loved him and the whole Clan treated him kindly. He was never grateful or aware of it. He just dedicated his life to being a—”
She cut herself off, tightening her jaw as Bramblekit and Tawnykit ran by, chasing each other. When they passed, she shook her fur out and looked fondly at Fireheart.
“He didn’t know a thing about what he was saying,” she said sweetly. “You’re going to be a wonderful leader, more than you already are. This Clan is happy to follow you.”
Fireheart knew a cue to change topics when he heard one. He gazed around camp, watching everyone talk or eat or groom themselves or each other.
“I’ll do what it takes to keep everyone safe and happy,” he said softly. “I just hope we can make it past this dog.”
“We will,” Goldenflower assured him. “You’ve got the other Clans to help us, too.” She gave him an amused look. “And you’ll finally stop putting off doing your leader ceremony and getting your name.”
“Wh—” Fireheart twisted his head sharply to look at her, almost hurting his neck. “I’m not putting it off! I’m just waiting until everything’s settled down and I can leave safely, that’s all!”
Goldenflower purred a low trill. “Of course, love. Of course.”
Fireheart nudged her jokingly, not budging her one bit. “I’ll get it done. It’s just taking a bit.”
“Mmhmm.”
Fireheart stuck his tongue out at her and she chuffed. The two fell silent and returned to their meals, the Clan buzzing on around them. Fireheart kept looking around as he chewed, trying to find any concern about Darkstripe.
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There’s always a crushing weight that settles around my shoulders when she looks at me like that. I never know what’s exactly going on in her head, what she’ll say next. And that’s what I’ve loved about her. She’s always kept me guessing, kept me paying attention and focused. It was one of the easiest ways I found to temper my anger when it flared up around anyone else. Even if she didn’t know it, she helped keep me on solid ground when I’d felt like I’d been adrift for so long. But now, I’d give anything to know what was going on in her head. She was furious with me about enrolling her in UW, I know, but I couldn’t risk losing her. It felt like there was danger all around us and the only way I felt like I could keep her safe was here with me. I knew she wouldn’t like it. I knew she would fight against it. But if I could just make her see that I wasn’t trying to ruin her life and that it was actually temporary, just until the danger died down, and she could go back to New York soon, she’d understand. But then she wasn’t there when I came back this time. And in the next second, I felt the earth fall out from under me.
The soft click of the hotel door behind him was the only thing that reminded him his feet were on solid ground. Paul staggered down the hallway only a few steps before his mouth burst open taking gasping breaths.
It felt as if someone was hollowing out the pit of his stomach with a jagged edged spoon, ripping and tearing at everything inside of him until he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. His hand shot out to grip the wall and keep from sinking to his knees.
It’ll pass. It’ll pass. It’ll pass. He chanted to himself in his head.
This undeniable pain of the imprint felt just as raw as it did when she first left him. She’d not broken the bond when she’d left, but still nearly cleaved it in two. The only thing holding the bond together was a dangerously thin connection that reacted like an exposed nerve whenever disturbed by simply the thought of her. Which for Paul, was all of the time.
And right now, that nerve was being ground with sandpaper as he walked further away from the door. This earth shattering ache was something that always echoed within him, to the point where it had nearly driven him crazy back on the reservation.
Maya had disappeared from his life that night and every day since. The imprint had been begging for him to get her back even if he knew what she needed—space and time away…from him. Paul tried to catch his breath, his hand coming to wind around his abdomen as he was reminded of the night she left him—the pain so acutely similar to that first night:
A little over a year ago…
Paul’s feet pounded on the forest floor, his breath huffing from his mouth in great bursts. All he could hear replaying in his head on repeat was her refusal, pushing him away, and he couldn’t stand it anymore. Paul knew he should have stayed to talk it through, to reassure her that the plan he’d made for them would work if she’d just tried it, but deep down he knew it all felt wrong—making her stay, holding her to him like this. And so, when she refused, he let himself fall into the familiar rush of the phase.
Soon enough, the weight of his mounting anger would be easily channeled into each limb as he dashed through the dense forest. There would be nothing left to feel once he was there and when he came back, she’d be there to talk it through and they’d figure it out together. But right now, his mind was a mess and he couldn’t see anything past the resounding anger that swelled and grew and wanted to rip every part of him to shreds.
Paul didn’t know how long he ran for, but the air grew cooler as he made his way further north, scaling mountains and focusing on anything but the anger pulsing in his chest. If he could just get some distance, it would subside. That’s how it always worked in the past. He remembered distinctly when he first phased and how that visceral anger he’d felt every day as a kid suddenly subsided as he would wind his way through the forest. He had finally found relief from the pain of that anger all these years. Through his mother’s absence, his father’s violence, and the falling away of every family he’d ever come to know before he was left all alone the one thing that remained was that anger. Like a companion, an old friend. But when the phase hit him, he realized there was something else for him to do. And Sam made sure that he made use of that anger, channeled it in a way that could help the pack rather than hurt them. He’d still slip up sometimes though, barking commands at his brothers, taking one too many risks when they were hunting down bloodsuckers. But it didn’t matter. Paul was all at once freed from himself when he phased and he truly had nothing to lose.
He went through a similar period as Jacob and Leah where he simply didn’t phase back for awhile. The relief from the anger was just too much and so he had leaned into it. But when you phase for too long, the world starts to get wobbly. You lose touch with your human senses and the wild can pull you under faster than you realize. When Sam had to pull him out after a Quil phased, he felt more feral and angry as ever when he was human. But he worked through it. Made a name for himself, put more energy into his work and his pack. And that anger stabilized.
But then came Maya. His Maya. The world stopped, no ground to a startling halt when he saw her and that anger took a new shape, seemingly it evaporated. But something happened as they grew closer. That anger swelled into jealousy, possessiveness, and the imprint took hold of a brand new side of him. One he didn’t quite feel in control of.
As he wound his way through the forest, crossing the border into Canada and sliding to a halt as he overlooked a stark cliff off of Britannia Beach, he felt lost. For the first time since Maya, he felt well and truly lost within himself. Paul stayed that way, gazing out over the cliffside into the dark swirling ocean below, waiting for some clarity, some reprieve from that mutated anger, but none came. He just felt exhausted. Night turned into day as he ran and now it had descended again. He watched the moon grow and change across the sky.
When the sun rose over the horizon, Paul felt stiff from his lack of movement. He hadn’t even laid down to rest, just let himself stare endlessly trying to find out where that anger ended and where he began again. A soft crunch behind him set him on high alert though and he growled and bared his teeth before whipping around.
He was faced with a towering russet brown alpha—Jacob. Paul slowly relaxed and waited for Jacob to say something, but it felt like he was trying to assess the situation. Figure out what part of Paul he was dealing with. But he was lost to himself, so he had no idea what Jacob would find.
I know what you’re going through. Jacob’s voice buzzed through Paul’s brain. He never minded his brothers communicating with him this way. Their overlapping voices made him feel much less alone in those early days. Still, the voice in Paul’s head growled in response. Jacob sighed and took a moment before carrying on. Paul tried to gather what the images flickering through Jacob’s head meant, but it was all moving too quickly it blurred and he couldn’t make anything out clearly. There’s never going to be a good time to let go, he continued. You’ll never want to truly let go. But this is how you lose her, Paul.
Paul felt his chest rumble with pain. But there were no words that came to mind. Just Maya’s face, broken and crying as he told her again and again that she couldn’t leave. Not like this.
She’s gone. Jacob said suddenly in response to that image. That got Paul’s attention. He whipped around to face Jacob, a sudden feral rage coursing through him. Uncontrolled, as usual. She went back to New York. With protection. You will not interfere with that. The last sentence was an order, an alpha command. And a carefully phrased one at that.
Jacob knew he was unable to order any of his brothers to stay away from their imprints. It was the one thing his commands couldn’t touch. But this was different.
Interfere? Paul seethed, his teeth bared, shoulders squared and his feet spread wide as if he was about to lunge. Jacob bared his teeth in response and mirrored Paul’s stance.
That’s right. You’re not in control right now and that puts your imprint at risk. This is for your own good and for her safety. Jacob continued firmly.
Her safety? Paul felt his entire body tremble with rage. He felt like he was going to explode out of his skin any moment, his fur rippled in waves down his back. If she’s not safe with me, then who is she safe with?
An image flashed in Jacob’s mind, just briefly, but Paul caught it. Golden eyes, blonde hair, and the tall stocky build of the blood sucker he knew all too well after a close call so many years ago. This was too much though.
Paul snapped, lunging for his alpha in one quick moment, his jaws clamping around Jacob’s throat as they tumbled backwards into the forest, crashing through trees and undergrowth. Jacob responded in kind, and quickly twisted away from his grip before pinning him between two broad paws. Paul writhed and snapped at Jacob, but he held fast, the blood from his gushing wound closing quickly.
TRAITOR! Paul bellowed at him. But Jacob held strong, holding his writhing form beneath him.
Listen to me! Jacob begged. It wasn’t an order, but a plea. But Paul was too far gone to hear much beyond the rushing rage blocking out all sound. She will be safe. You need to figure this out. Whatever this is Paul, it won’t work. You can’t keep her like this. It’s not fair to her or you. If you have any hope of her staying with you, you need to change whatever this is. This fucking monster inside of you. Get a fucking grip!
Paul snarled, snapped his jaws and found an opening. Jacob slipped and Paul righted himself quickly before bashing headfirst into Jacob’s chest. Jacob howled, thrown back by the sheer force of it and crashed a hundred feet away into a tree. Paul steadied himself, the blood pumping in his ears. He had to get back to Maya. Had to get to her, make her stay, keep her safe.
She’s gone! Jacob responded again to the flurry of thoughts rushing through Paul. He whipped his head back and howled in agony as a fresh pain ripped through him. He could feel it now, that absence, her absence, growing and pulling him apart from the inside. And so he did the only thing he thought he could do. He charged toward Jacob in the forest, blind with fury, thirsty for revenge, for blood, for sending her off with those fucking bloodsuckers.
Jacob was ready for him though and when Paul crashed into him a second time, he remained like a stone wall. Paul rammed against his frame again and again and again, feeling the bones breaking in his body. But with each slam against Jacob, he was losing ground. Jacob edged him closer to the cliffside. He wouldn’t win, but it didn’t matter. There was nothing left for him.
Go see the elders. Jacob said calmly. And with that, Jacob rammed at him, making him topple over the cliff and hurdle into the crashing water below, limp and broken.
Paul tried to catch his breath now outside of the hotel room door. He could do this. He could walk away and let her come to him. He’d practiced this for he didn’t know how long at this point, but it always seemed to get harder leaving and now that they had come back to together, the ache of the imprint seared through every part of his brain.
He turned toward the door, his hand hovering over the knob as he reached for the key card. Maybe he could just go back inside and explain everything and she would understand.
But he knew he couldn’t do that. It’s not what the elders had advised. And they had gotten him this far. When he heard Maya talking on the other side of the door into her phone, it solidified his resolve to leave, however agonizing it felt, and he walked off down the hallway toward the elevator.
-----------
The soft buzz of Maya’s phone rumbled beneath her. It must be Rose, or Emmett, trying to find out where she was. She hadn’t exactly planned on not coming home last night.
Without looking at her phone, Maya answered.
“Hello?” Her voice was low from her general disorientation and the best sleep she’d had in a year.
“Well, well, well, look who decided to come crawling back into my DMs,” the voice on the other line drawled conspiratorially.
“Keye?!” Maya let out a huff of surprised breath and tears immediately pricked the back of her eyes.
“Now, I thought that when we all watched Gone Girl that one time, we decided that if we ever had to fake our own disappearance, we would at least send a signal of some kind to one of the group. You know, to remind them that ‘hey! I’m not actually dead, just disappearing for a while’ kind of thing,” Keye continued rambling sarcastically. A sob broke through Maya’s throat and she put a hand over her eyes at hearing her best friend’s voice for the first time in a year. “Or, did you forget the moral of that story?”
“Keye,” was all Maya could get out as the tears fell in earnest. But Keye wasn’t even listening as she carried on, making Maya start to giggle.
“You know I can keep a secret. I never told anyone about that time Ashley Halliweth took me and the two Lake brothers to skinny dip at the rec center and Ashley gave Joey Lake a blowjob on top of the noodles that the elders use to do their swim aerobics.” Keye was talking a mile a minute and all Maya could think about was how good it felt to hear her voice.
“Keye, you literally told half our spanish class in ninth grade and Mrs. Gostavos,” Maya scoffed, still shaking with comforting laughter.
“No! She wasn’t there, I’m pretty sure,” Keye deflected and carried on rambling. Maya settled into the warmth of relief she felt at just hearing Keye’s voice and wondered if she had made a mistake cutting everyone out for so long. Especially Keye and Becks.
She glanced toward the closed door of the room and felt a pit drop in the center of her stomach. Had she made a mistake there too? He really just fucking left? The voice inside her head spat. Maya tried to drop back in and focused on Keye’s rambling before she took a huge breath and said,
“Anyway, what’s up with you?”
Maya burst into laughter and stared up at the ceiling.
“Honestly, babe. Nothing,” she replied nonchalantly. That made Keye erupt with laughter and for a few minutes, they just devolved into complete happiness, easy in their comfort with one another. Once they finally settled, a comfortable silence fell between them.
“Paul’s an idiot,” Keye said sighed. Maya nodded even though Keye couldn’t see her.
“I’ll say. He just one-night-stand-ghosted me,” Maya admitted, petting her own hair back against the pillow.
“What?!” Keye shouted. Maya shifted the phone away from her ear from the screech and then hummed in affirmation.
“I’m currently butt ass naked in a hotel bed. He just left after thanking me for the lovely evening,” Maya groaned, “I’m such an idiot. I folded like a road map.”
“No, you didn’t,” Keye interjected with a tone of annoyance.
“Yes, I did, ugh, I just fucking slept with him because I couldn’t help it and now he probably thinks—”
“No, My, you fucking didn’t. He’s being an asshole and you reacting to the imprint is not you being an idiot. You didn’t fold or fall for anything. Honestly, babe, it’s a little manipulative what he’s doing to you,” Keye said harshly. Maya stared at the ceiling in confusion.
“Wait, what do you mean?” How was Paul manipulating her? They were coming back together and he was…what was he doing? All of it made Maya’s head spin—the imprint, Paul, all of it.
“He’s blaming you for a decision he forced you to make!” Keye nearly screeched. Maya scrunched her forehead in confusion.
“Keye he…” Maya paused and really thought about it for a moment. She could feel Keye nearly boiling across the line as she thought through her last few interactions with Paul.
The chance encounter at the art museum, the meeting at the club, the lunch, and now her pseudo one-night-stand. He was mad sure, but manipulative? Maya couldn’t quite piece it together.
“Keye, he’s just mad and reacting to the imprint. It’s fucking driving me crazy too,” Maya defended. Why was she defending him again? As the words came out of her mouth, they even tasted wrong.
“Jesus…christ, Maya. I thought you were the smart one in our group. Listen, he literally forced you to run from your home because he was going to keep you here under some insane idea that he was protecting you. Then, he shows up in New York to ‘work’ and now he’s making you feel like a one-night stand?” Keye exclaimed. “Tell me how that’s not manipulative.”
“I—,” Maya paused again, trying again to piece it together, Maya really sat and thought for a moment. Paul loved her—she knew that as much as she knew how to breathe air. But sometimes, the things he said and did didn’t feel like love at all.
She hadn’t liked how the last year had gone between them. And when she really thought about it, while being around him these last few times had been like a welcomed salve to the raw emotions from the imprint, after she had just felt…empty. And confused. Most of her relationship had felt like a tug of war with him and her mind flashed back to when Paul had admitted that things were not this difficult between his brothers and the other imprints. That proclamation had always worried Maya and now it hit her full force in the chest.
Maya scrunched up her face in irritation and let out a huff of breath. She knew what she wanted with Paul, but this hadn’t been it. And now she wasn’t entirely sure how to fix it.
But she was determined to fix it. Whatever it took.
“Fuck,” she let out with an exasperated sigh. “I know. I know, Keye. Fuck. I just get so wrapped up in this shit and I can’t think straight when he’s around, sometimes. I thought the space would help, I really did.”
“It’s okay,” Keye said softly, “But babe, this can’t be your life. Running from home whenever Paul does something stupid. Break him so he doesn’t break you,” she said fiercely. Maya laughed at that. She didn’t think it would take that, not to mention, she didn’t want or even mean to break Paul. She just wanted to find the rhythm again. A rhythm with boundaries that they had never quite managed before.
“Okay, okay, I hear you. I’ll work on it,” she breathed out and then said swiftly, “What’s been going on with you?” Maya asked. Keye clammed up suddenly, and was completely silent to the point where Maya thought the line had gone dead, “Keye?” she said, pulling her phone back from her face to check and make sure the call hadn’t dropped.
Keye cleared her throat and then said in a rushed voice, “ Everything's good on my end. You know me.” Her voice sounded strained.
“You okay?” Maya asked slowly, “Is someone there with you?” Maya sat up in bed suddenly worrying about what Keye may have gotten herself into.
“No, no of course not. I’m at my apartment and I just—,” she cut herself off. Maya listened intently and thought she heard sniffling on the other end. But before she could point it out, Keye piped up, “I need to get some stuff done for this stupid class. And I just miss you. Any chance you’ll be coming this way soon?” A hopeful lilt in her voice put pressure on Maya’s heart.
“I—,” Maya choked. She always choked. Shutting her eyes tight with a hand to her head she took a deep breath.
“You can’t stay away forever, you know,” Keye laughed a little, but it sounded hollow. Maya’s suspicion piqued again.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Keye was always so straight with her, but now, it felt like the distance between them was hiding something else.
“Yes, My. Just think about coming home. Not a trap. You can even come stay with me in Seattle if you want,” Keye’s voice was clipped, but wrought with so much emotion that Maya thought she could hear the strain in the back of Keye’s throat trying to hold back a sob.
“Okay, yeah. I’ll think about it,” Maya said with a soft smile in her voice.
“Good. Good,” Keye said, her voice thick with spit.
-------
Two months later…
Maya watched the rain come down from her spot in Arden’s office. She was perched on the couch with a stack of papers to grade. Arden sat dutifully at his desk, answering emails and outlining his next lecture that Maya had already sent him her thoughts on for updating.
A soft fog rolled over campus, uncommon in the heated heart of the city. It made Maya ache for home more than ever. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t drag her eyes away from the window as she let herself get lost in the feeling of being home.
She and Keye had talked a bit more after that initial conversation and Maya knew now more than ever what she needed to do. Ever since she had made her decision though, she had begun craving her home, the beach, her family in La Push with new fervor. And this weather really didn’t help.
Maya blew out a soft breath and hadn’t realized she had been absently tapping the uncapped tip of her red pen on an unsuspecting student’s paper until her had nearly covered the cover page in marks.
“Everything okay?” Arden’s voice, usually so calm and soothing, jolted Maya from her reverie, causing her to jump and papers to slide from her lap onto the floor.
“Oh!” she exclaimed. Arden kneeled down in front of her to gather the papers, setting them neatly back on her lap and resting his warm palm on her denim clad thigh. Maya sucked in a sharp breath as she watched the look in his eyes change from concern to something darker. “Sorry, I…I was lost in thought,” Maya explained, shifting her legs and moving them under her body so that Arden was forced to drop his hand.
Arden stayed kneeled in front of her, not letting her out of it that easy. “You sure you’re okay?”
Maya gave him a small smile and nodded after a beat before patting her hand on the papers. “Just trying to get everything squared away before fall break. Plus, I have that interview coming up. I don’t know, it might just be getting to me,” she was trying to come across as reassuring, but Arden’s gaze tugged at something deeper she wasn’t willing to admit.
He hummed in acknowledgement, his eyes dropping to her mouth for a moment as if considering the last time they were this close on this couch in his office before rising back to his feet. “Well, be sure to get those graded before the week ends. I’ve got another batch of quizzes to give you once you’re finished and I don’t want it cutting into your coursework too much.” His tone was kind, if not a bit firm. Maya nodded and made a show of getting back to work.
But after a few minutes, once Arden had settled back at his desk, Maya’s gaze lifted to the shadowy gloom outside as she dipped back into her thoughts of home, her friends, her family, and most of all…of Paul.
------
“MY!” a sharp knock sounded on her bedroom door. Maya snapped her attention to the door and away from the long floor to ceiling windows that were streaked with rain in the warm lamp glow of the street below.
“Yeah?!” Maya called out just as Rosalie entered her room, eyes glued to her phone.
“Emmett was going to swing by that Thai place that you liked to check in on Bastion, do you want anything?” she glanced up quickly at Maya before letting her eyes fall to the massive fan of papers across her bed. “Still grading? Do you want my help?”
“Ah, no I think I can handle it. Thanks though, I’m just having a hard time focusing with the rain and all,” Maya explained, not quite sounding like herself even to her own ears.
“Okay,” Rosalie replied with a hint of skepticism. “So, Thai?”
“Yes! B4, spicy noodles, extra sauce please,” Maya stated matter of factly before looking diligently back at the papers on her bed. Rosalie shot off a text to Emmett and quietly exited her room, closing the door behind her. Letting out a deep sigh, she glanced at her phone, the screen inactive on her bed.
It had been a month and a half since she’d heard from Paul. And the text exchange that she had attempted made her feel…unsatisfied. She had written:
Hey.
To which he nonchalantly responded:
Hi. Everything okay?
Everything’s fine.
Maya hadn’t known what to say. Why had she texted him again? It was late and she had been sinking into herself, lost in that feeling he had left in her that night after the Met. And suddenly, she was in bed, texting him. She watched as the typing bubbles appeared and disappeared on Paul’s end a couple of times before a text finally popped up that read:
What can I do for you, baby?
Maya bit her lip as an aching need pulsed between her thighs. She couldn’t let him get to her like that with just a simple, seemingly benign text and promised herself that she’d have to work on that. So, she promptly turned off the screen on her phone and tried to sleep.
A few weeks later, Maya was in her room grading papers, a glass of wine in her hand, and clad in just her Columbia t-shirt and some black panties.
The unanswered text from Paul laid open on her phone, and Maya bit her lip. She had been contemplating texting him back but had no idea what to say. What did she need? For him to talk to her? For him to lure her back to the reservation? No.
But she did miss him. And that ache had steadily grown with every silent second he let tick by. She was used to Paul being ever present, almost overwhelming so, and this past year was a testament to how much he had let her be. Maybe he was finally getting it.
Or maybe it was a trick. The thought had crossed her mind a few times. That maybe he was doing this all as some elaborate way to get her to come back. But she couldn’t see the end of the game. If things were just as they would be before, she knew she’d leave again. She’d done it before.
But this somehow felt different. So, maybe it was different.
Maya grabbed her phone after downing her wine and setting the empty glass on her nightstand. She stared at the text: What can I do for you baby?
The longer she stared at it, reread it, heard it in his voice, warm and deep, the more that thrumming, tingling sensation welled up in her chest. She wanted him to feel that unsatisfying end as much as she felt it now from those seven little words on the screen.
Maya leaned back on the bed, tapping open the camera and twisted her body so that her ass jutted out and her waist twisted. She thumbed at her jutted bottom lip and quickly snapped the picture, sending it before she even had a second to reconsider.
And then she waited. Five. Ten. Fifteen minutes. He hadn’t even opened the text. Maybe he was on patrol. Maya’s eyes flitted to the clock on her nightstand but it felt too early for rounds even with the time difference. When the realization set in of what she just did—basically an open invitation to come and get her—Maya quickly hit unsend on the text.
He hadn’t seen it. She was sure of that. But still, she turned off her phone to avoid any further temptation and swallowed hard as the feeling of rejection swirled loosely in her stomach.
----
“I think I want to go home for fall break,” Maya said without any pretense, “To visit.” She rushed to clarify.
Emmett looked at her with a teasing smile and glanced nearly imperceptibly at Rosalie.
“Are you sure?” Rose asked gently, setting down her book.
Maya took a deep breath, still clutching her phone in her hand, “Yes,” she said firmly and nodded. “I want to visit my parents and…I’m going to have to go home eventually. Why not break the ice now?” Maya prompted. Rose watched her skeptically as Emmett began to shake with silent laughter.
Maya’s gaze fell to him and her eyes narrowed into a glare. Doesn’t mention Keye and what she suspects might be wrong.
“What?!” she finally prompted.
“Are you sure this isn’t a dick visit?” he joked. Maya let out a groan and Rosalie shot Emmett a glare.
“Emmett,” she whined in annoyance.
“What?!” Emmett feigned innocence. “All of the sudden she wants to go home on a whim? We know you and Paul had a little rendezvous after the Met thing, don’t lie,” that sly teasing grin fell across his face.
“That’s not it, it’s something else,” Rosalie said with a knowing, pointed look, “What’s going on Maya?”
Maya sighs and shakes her head, “Nothing that you two should be worried about. I’m mostly going on a hunch, but if I need a way out to get back here, will you help me again?”
“I don’t think it will come to that. Paul could have easily taken you back during any of the times that you’ve spent with him recently. Plus, Alice hasn’t mentioned the Volturri coming to visit in months, I think we’re in the clear in terms of danger for now,” Emmett said.
“Are you sure this is a good idea…for you?” Rosalie said gently. Maya pondered that for a moment, clutching her phone tightly.
“It’s important for me to see my family. And I’ve stayed away long enough,” Maya paused and let out a soft breath. Rosalie smiled gently and gave Maya’s arm a reassuring squeeze. She could feel the ice cold of her elegant fingers through her thick wool sweater. After a beat, Maya said softly, “I’ll be careful.”
To which Rosalie nodded and glanced at Emmett who had his arms crossed, leaning against the kitchen island.
“Then, we’re in,” Emmett confirmed. Maya sighed in relief and smiled.
She was finally going home. Maya could already feel a small part inside of her sag with relief. However, another larger part cinched anxiously around her heart. Home.
-------
Maya crossed her legs as she waited at the gate for her plane to start boarding. She had decided to forgo the private jet route that Rosalie insisted on to stay a few extra days and wrap up some last minute grading and planning projects with Arden.
Fall break felt different this year—gloomier somehow. Her cohort was in a tizzy regarding a new vetting process for landing internships affiliated with the university. Students had brought up the potential for favoritism to play a role, which had led to increased requests for office hours. Arden had been swamped with student meetings to reassure them that that wasn’t the case, but still, the last month had been stressful.
The need for additional meetings also meant that Maya had spent much less time alone in Arden’s office and more time at the library or at Noah’s. It had kind of been a relief if she was being honest with herself. Arden was picking up on Maya’s shifting mood as she got closer to heading home for the first time in over a year. Unfortunately for Maya, she couldn’t say she particularly enjoyed Arden’s increased perceptiveness.
She was nervous, sure, but mostly, she was just…excited. For what, she wasn’t sure. Because if there was one thing she knew it was that she was returning to the same, old complicated situation, if not worse. At least before she had people on her side. Now? She wasn’t sure considering she had iced everyone out for over a year.
Still, Arden’s attention to her had grown more invested and more affectionate. Before, it probably wouldn’t have even fazed her, but now, with the promise of her home on the horizon, she was feeling boxed in. How ironic, she thought to herself.
The intercom buzzed with a soft announcement and Maya lifted her head to listen carefully before her eyes settled back to the screen on her phone. The last text from Arden received just moments ago had shifted in tone rather quickly and Maya was still mulling over exactly how to tackle it:
Arden: Are you sure you can’t stay over fall break? There’s so much to get done before finals.
And then..
Arden: Plus, I miss seeing you in my office.
Maya bit her lower lip and turned off her phone before gathering her things hurriedly and walking toward the gate. She’d have to deal with that later. Right now, her biggest focus was getting to Keye and then getting home.
With a heavy sigh, Maya boarded the plane and said under her breath: “Here goes nothing.”
------
SeaTac airport was a well loved airport for Maya. She wove confidently through the throngs of tourists looking around confused about where to head as she made her way to the arrivals pick up area. She knew who she was looking for.
Maya let out a loud breath when she exited the airport, breathing in the briney, cool Seattle air. Nothing quite smelled like home like La Push but this would do for now. She let her eyes coast along the line of cars waiting to pick up their passengers. And no sooner had she reached in her bag for her phone did she hear a familiar squeal.
Keye hurtled toward her at a break neck speed, her face cheery and bright, her hair tied off in two braids down over her shoulder. She leapt at Maya when she was close enough and Maya caught her, the tears already coming.
“OH!” Keye screamed as she hugged Maya tightly. “You’re here! You’re real! You did it!” When Keye finally pulled back to look at her, Maya was sure she looked a mess with her puffy eyes and tears streaming down her cheeks. Keye was crying too and as she cupped her cheeks and smiled, she said in that bright, way of hers: “Welcome home, Maya.”
This wracked Maya with renewed sobs and Keye let out a wet laugh as she reach on Maya’s shoulder for her backpack.
“Come on, we’re holding up traffic.” Maya nodded and gripped tightly to Keye’s hand as she wove through crowds toward the light blue Subaru parked a little ways down. The trunk popped open and Maya heard a reassuring, warm voice coming from the driverside.
“Everything okay?” the strange, soft voice asked.
Maya wiped her eyes quickly. Keye hadn’t told her she’d bring someone else to come and get her and she was mortified at the thought of embarrassing Keye in front of one of her roommates.
“She’s fine. Just a little homecoming breakdown, you know how it is,” Keye quipped. Maya laughed and raised her eyes to the owner of the voice who had now come around the Subaru to help put Maya’s bags in the trunk.
“Sorry I—,” Maya said before swallowing, “It’s been awhile since I’ve been home.”
“It’s okay, I get it,” the woman looked familiar and her mere presence felt a little more like home to her.
“I’m sorry, who are—” Maya began slowly.
“Oh god, sorry!” Keye cried, “I forgot! Maya, this is Leah. Leah Clearwater.”
Maya’s eyes went wide as the name registered in her foggy, tired brain. Leah Clearwater? As in Seth Clearwater’s older estranged sister? As in the one pack mate who had left and not returned?
“Leah?” Maya said incredulously.
“The one and only,” Leah said almost begrudgingly.
“My girlfriend,” Keye said proudly. Maya nearly fell over.
“Oh!” she gasped as she looked from Keye to Leah and back again. Leah rolled her eyes as she slammed the trunk of the hatchback shut.
“Come on. Seems like we have a bit of explaining to do,” Leah said as she climbed into the car, the ghost of a smile on her face.
Maya remained frozen on the pavement for a second before looking hard at Keye.
“Is she?” Maya couldn’t bring herself to say it, but Keye’s face said it all.
TWO MONTHS PASSED, AND SUMMER FINALLY CAST ITS RELUCTANT LIGHT OVER THE GRIM DOORSTEP OF STALAG LUFT III... y/n was now three months pregnant, though she guarded her secret with a fierce determination. Subtle changes hadn't gone unnoticed by Bucky, who observed her newfound aversion to the stolen liquor she once enjoyed, and the careful way she moved during their makeshift exercise routines. He respected her privacy, never pressing for answers or making assumptions, but the thought lingered in the back of his mind. The quiet tension between them grew, unspoken truths and hidden fears weaving a complex web that both bound and separated them.
Now that the ground had loosened after the long, harsh winter, the men had a chance to gather some wood for cook fires. They worked hard, the prospect of a warm meal driving their efforts. After eight months here, y/n's mental health was fraying, though not as rapidly as that of the raven-haired Major. John Egan had taken to an odd pastime that teetered between amusing and worrisome — playing an imaginary game of baseball by himself in a secluded corner. With no bat, no ball, and no teammates, he hollered at the top of his lungs, mimicking pitches and swings, much to the bewilderment of anyone who passed by.
Y/n, on the other hand, had a glimmer of hope to hold onto—the prospect of starting a family with her lover once this nightmare was over. Although her impatience and negativity grew with each passing day, the life growing inside her reminded her of the preciousness of her own existence, and how fortunate she was to still be alive, even in the bleak confines of Stalag Luft III. The future she envisioned kept her grounded, fueling her determination to survive and find joy again. However, that didn't stop her from occasionally venting her frustrations to Gale, and today was one of those days.
"You okay, Major?" Gale asked, raising an eyebrow as he noticed y/n glaring daggers at a tree stump for over five minutes. "Of course. Why wouldn't I be?" She snapped, pulled back to reality. "Just asking..." Gale chuckled at her odd behavior. "Oh, you're just asking?" She gave a sarcastic smile. "Well, the truth is, I'm absolutely fantastic!" She began to rant, her voice dripping with irony. "Eight glorious months here—still trapped, still freezing, still eating scraps. Living the dream, really." She paced around, her indignity intensifying. "We keep waiting for something to happen, and guess what? It never does. So yeah, I'm really freaking great, Buck. Just peachy." She finished with an exaggerated deadpan expression.
"Well, it could be worse. We could be dead." Gale reminded her, trying to steer the conversation toward a brighter perspective. "I can tolerate death better than this shit." She retorted sharply. "Not for me. I need you around." He said, his tone softening as he scoffed. "Maybe Bucky's right... Maybe we should stop just waiting for things to happen and start making things happen." she mumbled to herself, beginning to calm down. "Oh, yeah? And look what happened to those Brits who tried. They got executed." Gale snapped, his frustration evident. She crossed her arms, acknowledging the truth in his words. "Well, what do you suggest, then?" y/n raised her brows.
Gale sighed, knowing they were stuck in a grim situation with no easy answers. "We need to be patient." He stated. "Whatever we do, we need to be smart about it. We can't afford any reckless moves." He explained to the girl. The y/h/c exhaled deeply, a sigh of resignation escaping her lips. "I guess you do have a point..." She admitted, her agitation slowly ebbing away. "Just try not to overthink things, Duck." He urged, his voice gentler now. "We'll get out of here before you know it, I promise." Gale leaned in, placing a tender kiss on top of her head, a gesture of comfort and solidarity. He lingered for a moment, feeling the gravity of his promise, before heading back to join the men, ready to tackle the giant stump.
"That's it, boys, we're getting it!" y/n urged, her voice cutting through the air as the men pushed themselves to the limit. "Almost there, fellas." Peter chimed in, his own determination adding to the collective effort. "Keep that pressure on- it's coming." Buck encouraged, jumping in to help whenever he could but primarily focused on keeping everyone's spirits high. "There you go, Simmons, that's it, keep going." He clapped an exhausted ginger on the back, driving him to push harder. "Woah, this looks like a work camp the way you jackasses are grinding away." Bucky's voice boomed suddenly as he strode up to them, shaking off the remnants of his ten-hour slumber.
"Now that the ground's loosened up, we've got a chance of getting some wood for cook fires," Gale explained, his tone steady but underscored with urgency. "Take a break, c'mon — let's play some ball." Scoffed the raven, smacking Buck playfully on the arm before starting to horse around as usual. "You boys wanna play some ball?" He called out, swinging his arm enthusiastically. When no one responded, he shrugged. "No? Ducky?" He asked, turning to the y/h/c. "Can't... cramps." She lied, settling herself in a shady corner to rest. "Again?" He asked absentmindedly, his brow furrowing. "Excuse me?" y/n raised an eyebrow in disbelief, her tone sharp.
"Ah, no, no... That came out worse than I expected." He sighed apologetically, realizing his mistake. "It's just that the dates don't seem to match, but that could be just me. Forget I said anything." He muttered, his words drawing skeptical glances from the other men. "Sorry, Duck." He added, trying to smooth things over, but the damage was done. The men exchanged looks, their curiosity piqued, and y/n felt their eyes on her, the weight of their suspicion pressing down like a heavy blanket. Clutching her stomach protectively, y/n realized too late that no one here knew about her secret.
In her efforts to keep it hidden, she had fumbled her cover story about having her cycle and mixed up the dates. "Get back to work, gentlemen. Give the lady some privacy." Gale intervened, rolling his eyes and trying to deflect attention from her. Undeterred, Bucky continued, "C'mon, Skins versus Bones — what do you say?" He pressed on, eager for a distraction. "Skins can be the away team... actually, no- we're all the away team. We're both away teams!" He rambled on, trying to lighten the mood. "Bones can take the first bat by mutual agreement, and--" Bucky's energetic spiel was cut off by Lawrence, who grumbled, "Either pitch in or knock it off."
"Alright, let's get back to it. The work won't do itself." Gale sighed, trying to diffuse the tension before he cast a reassuring glance at y/n before rejoining the men, unable to ignore the hint of doubt instilled in him by Bucky's atrocious statement. "Why don't you shut the hell up?" Bucky scoffed, shoving the man away. Gale, however, responded with a harder push, sending Bucky sprawling to the ground. "What the hell's wrong with you?!" Gale scolded, immediately regretting the force he'd used. "If you're not gonna help, stay outta the way." He walked over to Bucky, a hint of apology in his oceanic eyes as he approached his friend's collapsed body.
"Oh, so you're the new king of the camp, and I'm just in the way?" Bucky teased, lying comfortably on the ground with his head resting on his arms and one leg crossed over the other. "King Cleven says no baseball, just work, work, work... that's all he wants to do." He mocked, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "I'm sorry... c'mon." Gale sighed, extending his hand to his friend. "No no no no—work. You got a stump to pull, King Stumpity Stump; get to work!" Bucky kicked his hand away a few times. "Oh, get up, you loony," Gale urged, noticing the cold German eyes settling on them. "Come on, get up." He sighed, his patience wearing thin.
"No way, get back to work," Bucky remained stubborn, lounging on the ground defiantly. Gale finally grabbed Bucky's leg, trying to force him up. "Get off of me!" Bucky cried, kicking at the blonde. "Let go, you moron!" Gale grunted, struggling to free himself, but Bucky only got wilder. Within minutes, the two were wrestling on the ground, their grunts and yells filling the air as they threw kicks and punches at one another. The scuffle drew the attention of everyone around, turning the hard labor into a chaotic spectacle. "Take your shirts off!" y/n cheered, shamelessly enjoying the sight of her man getting his hands dirty.
The playful moment took a dark turn when Bucky twisted Gale's leg, prompting Gale to punch him square in the face, knocking him out. "HEY- That's enough, fellas!" Colonel yelled, stepping in to break up the fight before it could escalate further. Just then, the intercom blared with an unclear announcement in German. "Back in the base, men!" shouted the Krauts to one another. The guards began gathering the Americans, rushing them back into their barracks. "What's going on?" Gale wondered aloud as y/n helped him and then Bucky up. "Must be something serious." y/n murmured, glancing around at the frantic activity.
"Whatever it is, let's just stay together..." Gale said, his eyes meeting hers with a determined look. "Agreed." Bucky added, shaking off the daze from the punch. The three of them, along with the rest of the men, hurried back towards the base, their minds racing with uncertainty. "Looks like the Krauts got some bad news." y/n shrugged nonchalantly, trying to downplay the severity of the situation. "They landed, didn't they?" Gale surmised, his voice tinged with concern as he observed Glemnitz's pale face. "You think?" Bucky scoffed, still nursing his bruised ego from the earlier fight.
"We're in Western Europe." y/n said after a while, translating the ongoing talk between the guards, her tone tense with apprehension. "It finally happened?" Her eyes widened with shock as she glanced at Gale, her expression pleading for answers, uncertain of what this new development meant for their uncertain future. The atmosphere around them grew heavy with the weight of impending change, and the men exchanged worried glances, silently preparing themselves for whatever was to come next. "Quick, let's check the radio for any news." Bucky suggested as they rushed to their rooms.
"Get me some pen and paper... NOW, QUICK!"
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An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
The castle is completely trashed. It looks uninhabitable. Perfect. Their captive still complains from the back seat, even more now that his eyes are covered. “Where are we? I need something for pain! You didn’t need to shoot me.” He whines.
“Shut up or I will shoot you again. We need you to be able to speak, not walk.” Claire threatens. He gets immediately quiet. She turns to Jamie. “I will get J to guard him and we will take the others in. I don’t want them to…”
“Aye.” He waits as she goes to get Jenny. They won’t use names or let him know about the children. Even if she plans to kill him. She hasn’t said as much but he knows she must. He was the enemy. They are at war with no quarter given.
“Let me go. I won’t say anything to anyone. I swear. Not a word.” He pleads. Jamie stays still, not saying a word in response. He was part of the reason Ian is dead, Mary’s husband, Faith. No quarter given!
“I have him.” His sister’s eyes hold a glint like he has never seen before.
“Don’t kill him. We need to question him.”
“I shan’t . No promises on hurting him though.” Jamie just shrugs as he climbs out of the car and heads towards Claire, Mary, and the children. He takes Maggie. Mary and Claire take the hands of the boys and they start towards the castle.
“It looks broken.” Fergus says.
“That is the secret. You see, it looks broken on top but underneath, it is fixed. But you have to know the secret to get in.”
“A secret door.” Willie sounds excited.
“Just so. A secret the bad guys shouldn’t know.”
As they walk carefully around the rubble, Ian asks, “Uncle Jamie what about the bad guy you shot?”
“Well, he won’t know because he is blindfolded.”
“Why didn’t you just kill him?” Jamie stops, tightening his grip on his niece. He is shocked at his question.
“We need to question him. Find out about the other bad guys.” Claire smoothly answers. Jamie though, is concerned about his nephew’s question. Is he losing his humanity?
The door is hidden behind a big stack of rubble. If you didn’t know it was there, you wouldn’t find it. She opens it and leads them down. The difference is breathtaking. Under the cover of debris is corridors of old stone. They lead to rooms made out of the same.
“It is a bit primitive but safe.” She says.
Mary, who had been quiet since leaving the car says, “Safe. Everything else we can work with. It is safe.” Her hand not holding Willie’s feathers over her baby bump.
“Agree. This is perfect.”
“There is a huge room up ahead. They believe it was the main gathering room. Off it is a ancient kitchen. No loos, I am afraid. But we can fix something up.”
“Yes we can.” She reaches for Maggie. “Go, get the others. I have them. We will explore some.”
“Thank you Mary.”
They find their prisoner, huddled as far as he can back, against the seat. Jamie narrows his eyes at his sister. “We were just talking.”
“She was telling me what parts of me she could shoot off and still leave me able to talk.”
“Well, it was just the truth.” She justifies. Claire just sighs. She takes him out.
“Can you carry him?” Addressing Jamie.
“Hey, I can walk.”
“Aye.” He is lifted and thrown unceremoniously, over his shoulder. They start off. He gets it. She wants him to know nothing about where they are at.
They enter the livable space. He is deposited in a room and the heavy door bolted until they get settled and are able to start questioning him.
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He is welcomed with squeals of delight from both his siblings. When Jamie and Claire enter the house, the twins wait with barely controlled anticipation. When their Auntie Jenny tells them that, “ mammy and daddy are here,” they are up and off like a flash, running to the door.
“My darlings! Mammy has missed you.” She gathers them in her arms. The hug is tight. Jamie looks on with deep joy.
“Would you like to meet your brother?” They break away and look up at him and the buddle of blankets in his arms.
“Bubby!” William cries out. Faith starts jumping up and down.
“Wanna hold my baby.”
“Come my loves. Let’s get somewhere where you can see him.” They walk into the living room where Jenny and Ian wait. Their children are anxious to meet their new cousin but their parents are making them wait until William and Faith see him.
“How are you feeling Claire?” Jenny asks.
“Not to bad. A little sore. He is well worth it.” She eases into the couch and Jamie hands her Brian. “Come meet your brother.” The children scramble to take seats on either side of her and she unwraps him. “William and Faith meet Brian. Brian your brother and sister daddy and I told you about.” The twins are fascinated by the baby. As Jenny and Ian take pictures, they reach out and touch his hands and feet.
“Brian, I am Faith. Sister. You are pretty like mammy.” Jamie, standing behind the couch, chuckles.
“I am Willie, your big brother. Wanna play cars?” All the adults laugh.
“You may need to give him a bit of time for that.” His Uncle Ian advises.
“Willie, he is still wee.” His sister says with an eye roll.
After he is feed, to both twins amazement, they get a chance to hold him. Jamie hovers, ready to catch, if necessary but, both do well. It is a success introduction to Brian but they know it won’t always be that easy. For now, both Brian and his mammy need a nap. They go and lay down while Jamie catches up with his children. He is in for a shock.
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