#high angst

***

Sometimes You Just Can’t Fake It

“You know what would be great in here?” Kensi asks, waiting for either Callen or Sam to respond. It’s early afternoon on a Friday and so quiet she can hear every tap of finger on keyboard. When they say nothing, she answers for herself. “A taco bar. We could set it up in one of the storage rooms. No one would ever need to know, because no one ever goes in there except for Nell, and then we could have burritos whenever we want.”

“I think Deeks is rubbing off on you,” Sam comments with a gentle smile.

He’s not entirely wrong. The last few weeks have been rough, to put it mildly. She’s so used to Deeks being the cheerleader, the eternal optimist in their relationship and among the team. Her efforts to fill in the gaps, all seem to fall flat or come off as forced.

What Kensi wants to say more than anything, is this sucks. They were supposed to be buying their own house, starting a family, and instead the bar is beyond struggling, Deeks all but fired, and they’re months into trying to get pregnant.

“Why don’t you go home?” Callen suggests, not even bothering to check his watch. “Your paperwork’s done and I have it on good authority that the new boss is pretty lenient.”

Kensi allows a smile as she imagines Nell’s reaction to being called the boss. “Ok, thanks. I’m just going to give Deeks a call.”

“Tell him he owes me a game of pool,” Sam adds.

“I will.”

Deeks picks up after a few rings. “Kens, hi, what’s going on?”

“Hey, Callen said I could skip out early,” she explains, settling on the sofa set up beyond the bullpen. “I was thinking maybe I could pick you up and take you out to dinner. We’ve never gotten around to trying that New Mexican place with the couples margaritas.”

Her tone is decidedly flirtatious, but she doesn’t really care if someone overhears. With Deeks laid off, they’ve had even less time together, and she’s feeling the strain.

“That sounds amazing, baby,” Deeks sighs, and there’s a thread of exhaustion in his voice that never quite leaves these days. It’s different from the weariness that comes with a week of chasing after ad guys. “But there’s so much to do at the bar. Can I have a rain check.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” She’s pretty proud of how well she hides her disappointment.

“You could go without me though. I, uh, know how much you love your margaritas and a good taco.”

“It wouldn’t be the same,” Kensi admits. “We’ll go another time. I’ll see you in a little bit.”

“Kay. Love you,” he says, a little sad and distracted like he’s been for weeks.

“Love you,” she murmurs back. Clasping her phone between her palms, she leans forward, pressing her lips together to stave off a wave of tears.

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale & Stiles Stilinski Characters: Stiles Stilinski Additional Tags: Love, Friendship/Love, Falling In Love, References to Depression, Struggling, Struggling Stiles Stilinski, Hurt Stiles Stilinski, POV Stiles Stilinski, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Tragedy, Hurt/Comfort, not really comfort, not your happy story, i am not doing well, I'm Sorry, Stiles Stilinski Deserves Nice Things, could be considered sad ending, Not Really Character Death, but you could say so, i guess, tagging it in case it's a trigger for you Summary:

Definitely! Thanks for asking! This is AUish where Tavra doesn’t die or get spiderfied. It’s very angsty and I upset myself writing it. But I’m taking that to mean it’s pretty good given the prompt. Under the cut because it’s long. Hope you like it!

Who would fight an impossible battle to give the other time to escape

A/N: For our final day, I present the following speculative story for season 14. I suggested the premise earlier this week, and @anonkp convinced me (very easily) to write it.

Can’t wait to watch the premiere with all of you in about 15 minutes!

***

He’ll Pay The Price

“Deeks, you’re here early,” Callen observed as he walked in with a cup of coffee in one hand and a paper bag in the other.

“Yeah, needed to catch up on some paperwork,” Deeks explained. “Besides, I was already up. School drop off you know.”

Callen made a face that Deeks interpreted as relief that he wasn’t responsible for any drop offs.

“Got it. What about your other, better-looking half?”

“A training. We were supposed to do it together, but there was only room for one, so I’ll have my turn next week. She’ll be in soon.”

“Sounds good,” Callen said, pulling his cell from his pocket when it buzzed. “Hmm, looks like both of our partners ditched us. Sam had to take his dad in for a blood test.”

“Slackers,” Deeks joked, grinning slightly as he looked at his laptop long enough to submit an expense report. “Is Mr. Hanna ok?”

“Yeah, Sam says it’s just routine. But,” Callen reached into the bag. “That means you get his breakfast sandwich.”

“Sweet.” As they munched on their sandwiches, Callen shared his recent engagement woes which included dodging Arkady’s various requests for the wedding, and resisting the urge to elope.

“I knew it was going to be rough, but I didn’t anticipate that Arkady would have an opinion, a very extravagant opinion, on everything while Anna doesn’t care about any of it,” Callen told him, sounding truly fed up.

Deeks chuckled in sympathy, but also relief that he wouldn’t have to make any of those decisions ever again.

“I do not miss that part of getting married at all. Good luck to you, brother,” Deeks said, crossing between their desks to give Callen a supportive pat on the back. “Just keep thinking that no matter how many crazy family are involved or how many wild swans they want to bring, it’ll all be over soon, and then you get to spend the rest of your life with the person you love most.”

“That’s surprisingly touching. Wait, wild swans?”

“The swans will have to wait for now, Callen,” Kilbride interrupted dryly, stalking into the bullpen. “The FBI just found a body that matches the MO of Robert Griffin and his gang. If you’ll recall—”

“They abducted people, and put on a sadistic show while mutilating their bodies,” Deeks filled in quickly. His sandwich suddenly felt like barbell in his stomach and he grimaced as Kilbride nodded.

“Thank you for summary, Deeks. That is correct. As you can imagine, we’d like to get these guys for good this time, and as quickly as possible. And since this was a joint case last time, FBI would like our assistance again.

“Of course. I wasn’t directly involved last time,” Callen told Kilbride, but I know the case.”

“Not one I ever wanted to revisit,” Deeks said honestly, paperwork and wedding conversation immediately forgotten. “What do we need to do?”

“The victim, Harry Pulver, was found late yesterday outside a condemned school store. FBI Agent Rand is on scene with her team. She’d like us to start interviewing anyone Pulver had contact with in the last few weeks.”

“Got it.”

“Good. I’ll send Sam and Kensi when they arrive.”

***

Three hours in, and so far they’d learned that Harry Pulver was was respected at work, and had a few friends and family, but otherwise kept to himself. It made sense why Griffin would target someone like him. According to his sister, she hadn’t heard from him in a week, which wasn’t all that unusual. No one had missed him until days after he was taken.

Their next stop was a greenhouse and nursery Pulver had called 8 days ago. As soon as they walked in, they were greeted by a woman with long curly hair, a green apron tied around her waist.

“Hi, how can I help you?” she asked with a friendly smile.

“Hi. We’re Agents Callen and Investigator Deeks with NCIS,” Callen told her, holding up his badge. Her smile faltered ever so slightly, but she recovered quickly as he added, “We have a few questions.”

“Oh sure, whatever we can do to help. Let me just check something in the back.”

“Don’t move and put your hands on the counter,” Deeks shouted unexpectedly. “Callen, she’s—”

Whatever Deeks was a second too late as the woman at the counter jammed a taser into Callen’s chest. He gasped, reaching for his gun, but his hand refuses to follow his commands as his body shook with spasms.

As he fell to the ground, he heard Deeks fighting off someone behind him. The sound of a gun firing echoed in his ear before he lost consciousness.

***

Kensi hands were clamped into tight fists, nails breaking through skin as she tried not to shout at Sam to go faster. He’d already broken half a dozen law, including speeding through multiple red lights.

It still wasn’t fast enough. Deeks’ request for assistance had come through over half an hour ago, and he would never use the alert without an extremely good reason. It had to be bad.

They’d left before Fatima could tell them more than Deeks and Callen’s last location, and that they’d been investigating the Robert Griffin case. That last part terrified her. She’d seen what Griffin and his gang were capable of.

“Don’t worry Kensi, they’ll be ok,” Sam told her, even as his jaw clenched. She didn’t respond, unable to tell herself such lies.

They reached the nursery in another 10 minutes, and she hopped out of the vehicle before it fully stopped, ignoring Sam’s shout of warning. Her stomach sank even further as she took in the scene.

There were emergency vehicles everywhere, FBI agents, LAPD. She searched until she spotted Callen sitting on the back of an ambulance, two EMTs working around him, relief filling her.

When he saw her approaching, he brushed off the EMTs, hopping off the ambulance with a slight waver in his step before he recovered. Blood covered the right side of his face, descending from a cut above his eyebrow.

“Callen, where’s Deeks?” she asked when he stopped in front of her, relief fading as she realized Deeks wasn’t there. There was more blood on his sleeve, down the front of his shirt, and based on his battered face, he’d been in a hard fight.

He looked down and pressed a hand to her stomach.

“I think Griffin and the other took him,” he answered quietly. Fear shot through her. There hadn’t been any reported deaths. Surely someone would have given them warning.

“What do you mean think?” she demanded. “What happened?”

“When we walked in, there was a woman at the counter. I think it was Cindy Ferguson, but I didn’t recognize her right away. Deeks just have though, because he tried to give me a warning. She tased me, and someone attacked Deeks before we could move.”

“So you just let them take him?”

“I passed out for a minute and when I came too, two men were dragging Deeks out of the room. Another was dead. Deeks shot him.”

“Oh my god.” Her knees shook as the name brought up images of mutilated bodies. The world shifted and grayed around her, and for a second, she thought she might pass out.

“I went after them, and tried to fight them off, but I couldn’t. They’d taken my gun, and one guy shoved me in the wall. By the time I got back up they were gone.” He shook his head.

“I’m sorry, Kensi,” he murmured, grasping her shoulder. She glanced up, not acknowledging his apology.

“Those monsters took Deeks,” she said, voice shaking with horror, fear, and rising anger. Shaking off his hand, she stared at Callen in disbelief. “How could you let that happen? You were supposed to be watching his back.” Her voice had risen to a shout, but she didn’t care. Not about the people who were watching them or Sam’s soft admonishment behind her.

“Kensi if I could have—”

“But you didn’t,” she interrupted. “You were supposed to have his back,” she repeated quietly. “And you didn’t. Now he’s in the hands of killers who enjoy mutilating people for sport. That’s 100% on you.”

Callen’s face fell in despair, but she squared herself against any compassion or guilt. She had more important things to worry about his hurt feelings.

Stalking past him, Kensi ducked under a length of caution tape.

“Kensi, where are you going?” Sam called after her. If she’d look back, she would have scene him lay a comforting hand Callen’s shoulder, but she had one focus right now.

“I’m going to get my husband back,” she said grimly. And she would tear down anything and anyone who stood in her way.

***

***

Add Another Failure to the List

Deeks shifted in his seat, trying to find room for his legs, and grimaced as he inadvertently put pressure on his abdomen. God, something was definitely fractured or broken. He’d been hoping the pain would ease up after a couple days, but it had only gotten worse.

To think, he’d forced himself through this last day of training, not letting on that he was injured, and pretty badly at that, only to get kicked out shortly before graduation.

He made a bitter sound in the back of his throat and tucked his arms against his sides in the position that caused the least amount of pain.

No one would tell him what he’d done wrong; the associate director had just called him into his office and bluntly said he was dismissed and to pack up his belongings. When Deeks had numbly asked why, he’d ignored him and said he needed to be off campus by the end of the day. Deeks left in a daze, which quickly turned to anger (at himself) and self-flagellation.

The call to Kensi was one of the most difficult he’d ever made. She’d been so proud and supportive through the whole process and now he’d failed her. He’d failed Hetty. He failed himself.

His abdomen gave a sharp twinge again without him even moving and he was once again reminded of just another thing he’d managed to mess up. Maybe one of the instructors had caught onto his injury and decided that was the leverage they needed to get rid of him. Or maybe he needed stop lying to himself and admit that he’d never been good enough for FLETC.

He was an idiot for ever thinking that someone his age, who was more suited to playing homeless guys and janitors would ever make it as a potential agent. It was just another thing to add the list: failing bar, fired liaison, impotent husband, and now a wanna-be Agent.

The pilot announced that the plane would be descending in 30 minutes and Deeks mechanically put on his seat belt, wincing again as it strained against his stomach. If he’d been paying attention, he might have noticed the woman sitting next to him give him a sympathetic look. But he was too consumed by his own thoughts.

As the plane landed on the tarmac, he glanced out the window. It would be the first time he’d seen Kensi in person in weeks. He dreaded and longed for the moment at the same time. She’d been so understanding, concerned, but encouraging on the phone. It made him feel even worse.

He knew she had to be disappointed deep inside. On top of everything else, now they’d miss their vacation too. Imagining it made him feel slightly sick to his stomach.

Pulling in a deep breath, he tried to calm himself and mask the true depth of his feelings. Kensi didn’t need to see how upset he was. She didn’t deserve that burden on top of everything else.

***

Saving Jesse’s Girl by Lauren Biel

Out Now

Blurb

She may be my brother's girl... but she's mine

Benji

My voice was stolen from me years ago. Silence is all I've known ever since.

Until her.

She understands sign language, and for the first time, someone actually hears me.

There's just one problem.

She's my brother's girlfriend.

No matter how badly he hurts her, she won't leave him.

Even when she's falling apart in my arms, we break together.

We both know this has to end.

But I'm not ready to walk away.

Which means there's only one thing left to do...

I have to save Jessie's girl.

---

Chapter 10: Last One On The Roll

WIP | E | Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter | Romance, Angst, Smut, Mental Health Issues, Sobriety, Disability, Chronic Illness, Gender Identity, Anxiety, Depression, Eating Disorders, BDSM

Snippet:

Noah’s grin is broad. Draco's austere beauty is such that he looks like he wouldn't know how to arrange his features into a smile if he tried. It is marred only by the purple scab down the centre of his lip and dark smudges, like bruises, under his eyes.

He collects his clothes from among the crushed aluminium cans and plastic bottles of boot shine, empty crisps packets, and the soft, smashed cardboard packets of fags. He kicks at boots that aren't his and stands, nude, clutching the ball of clothes to his pubic bone, staring at the front door.

Harry wonders if he's considering putting on his trousers and shirt and leaving. Fuck the shoes. They're off Berwick—Harry recognises the businesses out the window, so Pansy's flat is within walking distance. So is Draco's place. He could, in theory, go home and ward the door.

He enters the washroom instead and takes inventory. Touches all the places that are darkened by the threat of bruises. Tugs at the skin under his eyes.

"What new low have you endured now," Draco whispers to the mirror.

Recent Release: On Wings of Passion (On Wings Saga 0.5) by M.D. Grimm

Dreamspinner

https://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/books/on-wings-of-passion-by-md-grimm-10629-b

Blurb

A Story from the On Wings Saga Prequel to On Wings of Thunder

Every story has a beginning….Dragons. Angels fear them and demons follow them. Formidable beasts of incredible power, they fight each other to the death for dominance. But dwindling dragon numbers cause alarm among the angelic ranks.…