Aaron Hotchner: First And Last Phone Call

Aaron Hotchner: First and Last Phone Call

Imagine being followed, so you call your brother (Aaron Hotchner), hoping he might save you:

Y/N's POV:

The walk to my dorm was taking me longer than usual, the recent injury to my leg was definitely not helping me.

The sun had long since set, and the darkness of the night had fully set in, my only light sources being the sparse lamp posts dotting along the sidewalk. The dark has always been a fear of mine, but my fear is reaching a whole new level right now. I'm injured, alone, and in a new environment; anything could happen to me. I keep my head up and on a swivel, turning at anything and everything.

I eventually calm down after a few minutes of excessive paranoia, instead finding comfort in the soft breeze, the leaves russling under the trees, and gazing at the orange glow of the lamps against the dark blue sky, it's actually quite calming.

Rain lightly begins to sprinkle from above, something that I embrace as I love rainy weather. Of course my clothes and bag are getting wet, but I don't care.

I almost miss the quiet scuffle behind me, the sound of light footsteps against the wet sidewalk. I turn around quickly, but I see nothing. Turning back around, I shake my head, thinking I'm being paranoid again. I continue my slow walk, my dorm is still several minutes away.

After another few moments of walking, the light scuffle is heard again, this time I immediately turn around, once again seeing nothing behind me. I glare at my surroundings harshly, I'm about to continue my trek when something catches my attention.

Along the sidewalk is a dirt area with bushes and trees, large oaks that are spread every 7 feet along the sidewalk. Nothing about that is odd, but carefully surveying the tree, I noticed the rubber toe of a shoe, it reminds me of the thick rubber sole of Vans.

My breathing feels harder, an eerie sense of understanding floods through my body. I don't have my pepper spray or any of my knives on me, I made the stupid decision that a philosophy textbooks was more important. I'm wearing my Ariat leather books, good for walking and work, but not so amazing when it comes to having to outrun somebody.

My brain is turning with thoughts of what to do, but the first thing I know I must do is turn back around and start walking as if nothing is wrong; this may seem stupid, but I can't let this person know that I've spotted them. I force my breaths to be even, and I grasp my bag loosely to my side.

Continuing to walk was very hard, especially when you know somebody is following you, and you have no idea what their intentions are.

Grasping my bag, I swiftly undo its buckles, taking care not to look like I'm rushing. Rain drips down my skin as I pull my phone out of my bag, looking closely, I notice the slight tremble in my hands and the burning of my eyes. Clicking on the only contact I can think of, I hold the phone tightly to my ear.

———————

Aaron Hotchner's POV:

I hear my phone ringing, it causes the conference room to fall silent, all eyes going to me. Sheepishly reaching into my coat pocket, I glance at the name and know it must be important.

"What is it Aaron?" Rossi questions, clearly seeing the confusion in my eyes.

"It's my sister?" My voice is deep and raspy, I haven't spoken to her since I left home, and she has never reached out to me. I don't know why she's calling, but I know I need to answer it.

"Continue without me, give me the summary on the jet." Is all I say before pushing out of my chair and exiting the room, leaving it full of confused and concerned profilers.

———

"....Y/N?" I listen closely, hearing the slight pattering of rain through the line.

"...Hey Aaron." Her voice is tight, it only increases my concern.

"Why are you calling?" My question can't help but be asked, my personality doesn't allow for the polite bullshitting, instead wanting to get straight to the point.

"I'm doing great, heading to my dorm right now actually, I know you're waiting for me." Her response is confusing, we haven't kept in contact at all, and I didn't even know she was in university. Something starts to scratch in the back of my mind, this conversation feels off.

"What are you talking about? Why did you call me?" My question is overflowing with the need for an answer, my voice lowering so that prying ears can't hear.

"Yah, I did go down to California for spring break. The horse races were crazy!" With this sentence my thoughts still. When Y/N was just a little girl, I taught her certain phrases to say when something is happening to her; and this was one of the scariest scenarios:

She was being actively followed.

My breathing gets heavier, and my heart feels like it's ramming against my rib cage. I grip my phone so tight it feels like I might crush it. Thinking quickly, I stride out of my office and back into the conference room, JJ falls silent as they all look at me.

Motioning for everyone to stay quiet, I pull the phone away from my ear and put it on silent.

"I'm with my team Y/N, tell me where you are."

"...I'm walking to (university name), I was just in town, but I'm currently passing some gas station. I should only be about 10 minutes away, so I'll meet you there." I can hear her straining to keep a normal pitch and her breaths becoming faster, alerting me that she is worried. I point at Garcia, her eyes lighting up with understanding as she begins typing away on her computer.

By now, everyone looks confused and worried, but all are in work mode.

"Y/N, you need to get into a building, I don't care which one, you just need to find other people. NOW." My voice is harsh, and I know it's not helping the situation, but I need her to be safe.

———————

Y/N's POV:

He's almost shouting at me, but I know he's just worried, I can hear the almost inaudible waver in his voice. The tears are freely falling now, I've already passed the last building between town and my university.

The footsteps behind me speed up, it seems they noticed my predicament as well, they are going to do something to me, and there is nothing I can do. I speed up as well, wanting to be able to explain everything to Aaron.

"Aar.. A-Aaron...I-I'm sorry." I can't stop my voice from stuttering, sobs now mixing with my talking.

"I'm sorry I said I hated you. I was angry at myself, not you" My words drip with emotion, the guilt that flows through me is almost as painful as knowing I'm about to die.

"Y/N-" He tries to speak, but I interrupt him as I know I have little time.

"I'm sorry that your last memory of me will be over the phone, please forgive m-" My apologies are cut short, my phone being smacked to the ground. I try to face my attacker, but a punch to the face causes me to take a detour to the floor.

The rough asphalt rips into the flesh of my hands, it burns, but not as much as the kick I receive to the gut. I scream in pain, hoping someone will hear, but knowing deep down that no one will.

The person jumps on top of me, their weight forcing my already empty lungs to collapse even further, I feel like I'm gasping, but no air enters. Everything is blurry, and wet, it's all so disorienting.

Two large hands wrap around my throat, the pressure quickly increasing; I try to fight, feebly punching him with my weakening limbs.

I feel heavy, my head foggy, I kind of just want to close my eyes and sleep. As my eyelids droop closed, the last memory I have is of a blurry warm light from a lamp post a little ways away.

———————

Aaron Hotchner's POV:

After the screams and scuffle end, all we hear through the phone is silence, someone(I assume the attacker) picks up the phone, and ends the call after another few seconds. Sadness is surging through my body, I already know tears are dripping down my cheeks, but even through all my sorrow, I remain silent.

Everyone looks uncomfortable, looks of fear, anger, shock, and concern mingling in all of their expressions. JJ is about to say something when Garcia comes bustling through the door, she looks just as depressed as I feel.

"Sir, I know where she is."

David Bowie: The Actress

Imagine David Bowie being interviewed, and the conversation suddenly focuses on you:

David Bowie's POV:

"So David, in the newest music video you had a lovely woman beside you. Would you mind telling us about her?" The question caught me off guard, we had previously been talking about advice for younger artists, so this was a drastic change.

I find myself tilting my head in confusion, Y/N was a well kept secret. She is beloved by all of America, yet somehow managed to stay hidden away from all of Europe; but I never thought she was so niche that the British media couldn't find any information on her.

The interviewer noticed my change in mood, deciding to reword her rather blunt question.

"I don't mean that in a rude way, we know that she is the lovely actress Y/N L/N. I was simply wondering how it was that you stumbled upon her... Over here many haven't even heard of her." She leans forward, eagerly awaiting my response.

"Of course, what would you like to know?" I don't really know what to expect, Y/N is quite the spectacular woman, and the questions are sure to be spectacular as well.

"Well... How did you two meet? Did her people contact you? Was it pure chance?" The interviewer clasps her hands together as she awaits my answer. I start thinking about how I got in contact with her, having to stifle a smirk at the memory of her manager's surprise when he learned that David Bowie wanted Y/N in his newest music video.

"I reached out to her." I state calmly as I imagine her serene voice, smiling slightly as I replay her moments of stubbornness during filming. She wasn't a rude sort of stubborn, but she stuck firm to her beliefs, and always knew how to win my approval.

"You did!?" She's clearly taken aback at hearing I specifically wanted such an 'unknown' actress starring with me. I can't help but want to sigh in annoyance, Y/N deserves much more recognition for her amazing skill. Her acting is stunning, and I learned over filming that her musical talent is just as brilliant, if not better. That reminds me, I'll have to ask her about a possible future collaboration.

"Yes... I had seen her in the film 'Poem to a Murderer,' and had subsequently written a song in admiration of her. Then when the song was chosen from my album to get a music video, I simply couldn't pass up on the chance to meet the wonderful actress herself." She was breathtaking in that film, gaining both my admiration and attention in the psychological thriller. The interviewer nods in thought, mulling my answer before opening her mouth to respond.

"Can you tell us anything about her role that caught your attention?" There's so much I could say, so much I want to say, but I don't want to spoil the amazing movie. How do I word this into a short sentence whilst still exclaiming my admiration for Y/N?

"Well, the movie itself was a beautifully written and produced piece of art in itself, disturbingly surreal in a way with the imagery they created. I don't want to spoil too much, but I can tell you that every second of that film keeps you on your toes, and Y/N's character kept me on the edge of my seat every scene she was in." I can't help but praise everything about her. She was exceptional in the film, and started me on a search to find and watch everything that she starred in.

"Ever since the music video, theories about you have been flying all through England. Any chance there might be some truth to them?" She asked the question so bluntly that I'm almost stunned. I'll never get used to interviewers being borderline rude while asking intrusive questions.

"Well it really depends on what's being said. I always have rumors circulating about me." I chuckle slightly, both in humor as well as hidden disdain at the truth of my statement. I am slightly intrigued about what she is talking about specifically, what theories have formed about me this time?

"I have sources who claim to have been on set during filming. They said you two were incredibly flirty with one another. They reckon a romantic fling occurred behind closed doors?" Her question isn't said cruelly, she genuinely seems curious; as does the audience from the looks of it. I hate these questions, why does everyone always have to spread rumors?

"Sorry to disappoint you, but there was no 'romantic fling'. Y/N was a very polite and professional person, so much so that I actually thought she didn't like me at first." I laugh through the latter part of my sentence, but I also cringe faintly at the feeling of dejection I had during that time.

"Really! She didn't like you at all?" This is becoming vaguely annoying, I tell them something, then they restate it wrong.

"That's not what I said, I said I thought she didn't like me. During the beginning of filming she was very closed off and focused, but even when the cameras were off she was professional to the point I thought she didn't like me." I explain with a sigh, remembering those moments where I shyly would try talking to her, only to be met with what I perceived as a closed off response.

"Oh, but... did she like you?"

"Luckily she did. It was funny, I remember the specific moment I realized that she didn't hate me. We were filming the fight scene, and the person I was sparring with, Jeffrey Callos, actually caught me in the jaw." I explained before she burst forward in astonishment.

"You were punched? Bet he got the sack." Her eyes are wide open as she surveys me, the crowd laughing lightly at the second half of her sentence.

"Ha ha, not quite. You see, my crew plotted this because they said I was being daft thinking she hated me. I had bet that she would stay in character and play it off, maybe even laugh. Practically everyone else bet that she might kill Jeff."

"Well! What did she do!"

"Funny enough, she nearly killed Jeff... " The audience burst out laughing at my statement, the interviewer and I were chuckling as well. I waited for everyone to settle before continuing my story.

"No no, she didn't kill him. She did run right over, fretting over me and asking if I was okay before running off IN HEELS to get me an ice pack and towel. I can't tell you the relief I felt at that moment. I was worried that she really hated me, but deep down she was incredibly caring and very sweet." I feel embarrassed in a way, describing how caring this reserved woman became when she saw me topple over from the punch.

"So... Does she know? The truth I mean?" Her question is quick to follow my explanation, so quick I don't understand it completely.

"What's that now?"

"Does she know the truth? Did she find out it was a set up?"

"Ah, yes well, it is kind of hard to miss when everyone is smirking at us as she helped me up. I had to explain the situation, and she got awfully flustered." A warm smile spreads across my face at the memory of her with a deep blush across her cheeks.

"I almost thought she would punch me as well, but she just kissed my cheek before saying she could never hate me."

"Aww." The crowd 'oohs' and 'awwws' at the story, I admit that the memory has me blushing slightly as well.

"She seems like quite the memorable lady." She smiles at me, raising her eyebrows slightly.

"Oh, she was great... I only wish I could've gotten to know her better, but her manager was getting calls for her every second of filming. She's probably much too busy to even remember me." I drop my smile slightly, I hope she remembers me, because I'll always remember her.

"I wouldn't say that David." Her response caught me off guard, what's she talking about?

"What do you mean?" My tone shows a little confusion, but I try to keep a check on my emotions.

"You know we invited you here to not only talk about this album, but also your future role in the film Merry Christmas Mr. Lawrence?" She's grinning widely now, but I just want to know what she's building up to already.

"Yes... But what does that have to do with Y/N?" I squint my eyes slightly as I watch her sit up sharply.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the lovely Y/N L/N, who will be starring alongside David Bowie in Merry Christmas Mr. Lawrence." The shock on my face must have been priceless as I turned and watched as Y/N gracefully walked towards us, the crowd's cheers quickly shifting into a mixture of giggles and laughter.

I stand up quickly, wanting to be polite as well as impress her. I may have neglected to tell the interviewer, but I did develop a slight attraction towards Y/N during filming.

"Hello Jonesey." Her sweet voice has me ignoring the name, a wide smile erupting across my face. She leans forward to hug me, kissing my cheek softly in greeting before shaking hands with our interviewer. I wait for her to sit before following suit, nervously glancing sideways to see her smiling at me already.

The crowd cheers for a few more moments, gradually beginning to quiet down.

"It's been a while, hasn't it, Jonesey?" I blush at the nickname, remembering when she first started calling me it. I don't even know how it started, but she first called me 'Jonesey' to make me laugh when I was filming a serious scene in the video, and laugh I did. From then on, 'Jonesey' was her go to nickname whenever she saw me.

"It's only been a few weeks, love." I grin, patting her hand gently as it rests on the armrest. Surprise gripping me as she lifts up my hand to her lips, gently kissing it before speaking.

"Too long for me." She smirks playfully to me, and I offer her a warm smile in reply before nervously glancing away.

The crowd has quieted down enough now, hopefully not noticing the intimate moment that passed between us.

"What was that? Seems like a lot more than costars catching up." Of course, the interviewer is sadly never one to miss a possible question. My mind stutters as I try to think of what to say, luckily not having to.

"I just love making Jonesey blush, surely he's told you that."

"What do you mean miss L/N?" Oh no, why do interviewers always manage to dig up embarrassing personal things. I'm usually okay with this, but being so near Y/N just has my mind fried.

"I mean, hasn't David told you of all the times I purposely just tried to make him blush during filming? I have a wonderful amount of memories where he couldn't even get a word out with how flustered he was." She giggles at the end of her sentence, lightly shoving my shoulder humorously as a blush dusts my cheeks again.

"David? You've been holding back on me?" The interviewer looks at me in a jokingly accusing way, crossing her arms as she looks at me.

"Nooooo... I've just been.. Selectively sharing?" My voice is uneven, I couldn't even form a proper sentence when she was near me. I glance to Y/N as I practically ask my sentence, waiting for her to nod in confirmation before shifting back to the interviewer a little more confident.

However, that confidence was a little damaged when the audience laughed at the interaction.

"Well, I think we know who wears the pants in the relationship. Anyways... " The interviewer continues on as I struggle to try and find my words to argue with her, but I'm quickly silenced by Y/N's gentle tug on my sleeve. She pulls me back in my seat, quietly whispering in my ears,

"You can show me who's the boss after... " Her words are delicate, no longer exuding the confidence from earlier, clearly unsure of how I'll respond.

The interviewer continues rambling, but I simply gaze deeply into her eyes, calmly kissing her hand in response before we both turn our attention back to the interviewer. But we aren't really paying attention, our minds wandering to scenarios of what might play out when this interview finishes.

Unraveled Ch.6: I Fucking Hate Reporters

Ch.5 Ch.7

The anger continues boiling inside me as I cut off from the road to the station, instead driving towards the Broadchurch Echo; the audacity of Oliver to publicly give Danny's name is appalling and a new low for him. This is going to be gaining too much attention, we're probably going to have some uppity reporter from national down here to stir up some trouble now.

I park my car right in front of the Echo, revving my engine in irritation before turning it off, stepping out, and slamming my door noisily before turning to look inside the building. Everyone near the door looks at my angry movements hesitantly, knowing I'm not just there to pop in and say hello; I ignore them, slamming the door open and furiously stride over to Oliver's desk. As I near him he looks up at me, almost as if he might smile until he realizes that I'm incredibly agitated right now. He opens his mouth, about to ask what is wrong, but I quickly silence him by harshly smacking him, everyone immediately quieting down at the audible smack that interrupted them.

"Ow! What the hell was that for!" He shouts at me, holding his cheek as he looks at me as if I'm crazy. My messy hair falls slightly into my eyes as I harshly grab his arm tightly, forcefully ripping it off his face and dragging him to Maggie's office, Oliver tripping slightly as I make no move to slow down. Maggie looks over at me in welcoming before seeing my facial expression,

"Elspeth! What can I do for you petal?" She questions as she looks at me, I harshly push Oliver forward, himself stumbling to the floor, both of them giving me an extremely surprised look due to how I'm usually quite a kind and mellow person.

"Sorry for barging in like this Maggie, but it seems you need a little help controlling your reporters." I grate out through clenched teeth, my face blank but my voice and eyes conveying the rage I am withholding. Oliver quickly brushes himself off as he fixes his now ruffled shirt, looking at me incredulously.

"What's he done this time?" Maggie sighs as she gets up from her desk.

"Go on Oliver, tell her what you did." I sternly growl as I sharply push him forwards. He looks down as though only now feeling guilty because he was caught, eyeing me before quickly turning away from the ferocious glare I was giving him.

"I announced that the body on the beach was Daniel Latimer's." He hesitantly spoke, sheepishly looking up at Maggie to see she was now just as angry as I am. We both make eye contact, I give her a look and she nods as a 'go ahead', I quickly give him another harsh smack, but this time on the back of the head, sending him reeling forward from the impact.

I slowly take a step back as I attempt to gather myself, the last time I got this angry I ended up attacking a man I knew was guilty but got let off. Needless to say, I don't want to almost kill someone again, I like my life in Broadchurch too much to give it up for some lousy reporter.

Taking in a deep breath, I ignore the yelling Oliver is receiving, clenching my fists and closing my eyes as I think back to when I was happy, mainly memories of when I was with Daisy and Alec. The anger in me gradually dissipates, though not completely, but enough that I can restrain myself. Finally opening my eyes, I glance over at Oliver, my first slap having left a bright red imprint that is sure to bruise later on, and he is currently still holding the back of his head. Maggie seems to still be yelling, but my mind is ignoring it. Finally stepping in I calmly explain,

"Maggie. You know what he's done, I'm not going to allow the Latimer's to blame Alec over something one of your reporters did." As I look over at my friend I watch as she runs a hand over her face in frustration, sighing as she nods for me to go on.

"You're both coming with me to explain what happened to Alec, then you're going to explain to the Latimer's, the last thing this case needs is the family not wanting to cooperate with the police." I sternly state in a tone of finality, glowering at Oliver one last time before motioning for them to follow me out. I don't wait for them to respond, I simply walk out of the office, knowing that both will follow.

Leading them down the road we approach the Traders hotel, I nod over to Becca in acknowledgement before herding the two into the bar. I leave them and head back over to Becca.

"Hi Becca, how's the hotel?" I ask out of politeness, leaning against the desk as I rub my tired eyes in hidden frustration. She smiles at me before responding,

"It's been fine, business has been a little bit slow, but that is to be expected. Can I help you in the bar?" She responds back with an uneasy smile, Becca and I have had our fair share of altercations, most were nonviolent, but I know she's being polite now cause she needs the money.

I motioned for her to walk to the bar, "Please, and while we're waiting in the bar, will you please tell D.I. Hardy that he has visitors when he arrives." I say as more of a statement than a request, Becca simply nods as she finally walks behind the bar and starts getting us our drinks.

————————

Oliver and Maggie were having a quiet conversation as we waited, mostly Maggie explaining to Oliver what he was going to say, how his actions will cause problems for the police, and that he should know that his actions were incredibly rude and inappropriate. She had attempted conversation with me as well since we are friends, but right now I am still irate at the situation. To be as nice as possible I only give short replies to avoid any possibility of snapping, and I completely ignore anything Oliver says, instead focusing on the Italian soda I am drinking, the peppermint syrup taste watered down slightly.

After a few more minutes of waiting I can hear footsteps entering the hotel as well as Becca trying to make conversation and find out if the beach will be open. People wondering that already just angers me even more, my tightening grasp on the glass is starting to turn my knuckles white. I look over my back to see my favorite disgruntled D.I. entering the room, looking warily at the two reporters sitting beside me before giving me a subtle friendly glance.

I run my eyes over his appearance swiftly, his hair is messier than usual, his loose tie is disastrous, and his shirt wrinkled. Judging by his stressed look, he most definitely is feeling pressured by the information being leaked, and probably gave the team a good shouting at.

He looks between us, having a harsh glare on Oliver before Maggie speaks,

"Well, go on." She urges, seeing Oliver's hesitance when facing the rigid D.I.

"I was, uh, I was wrong to post that news. I'm sorry." Oliver explains, I release my grip on the glass in fear of breaking it, turning away from them both and walking next to Alec, eyeing Oliver as I stop.

"I should hang him by the bollocks from the town hall spire. All reporting on this will come through me now. The Echo works with the police. I'll, uh, I'll speak to the Latimer family, give them our apologies." Maggie states, exasperated that one of her reporters would do such a thing. Our gazes drift away from Maggie and back to Oliver, who I know for a fact is not going to stop reporting on this whether Maggie likes it or not.

"Stay out of my way." Alec voices, his words not harshly spoken, but seeming to carry a silent threat. Oliver's slightly scared look is enough for me to allow myself to be pulled away by Alec as he walks away from them. He let's go of my arm and I turn to leave as well when he reaches out and stops me.

"You and I need to have a talk before the press conference." He states in his business tone since we are in hearing range of Becca, lord knows neither of us want this town to know about the past. After observing Alec's stern gaze I simply nod, knowing that we're talking whether I agree or not, allowing him to lead me to his room.

As we enter I hear the door close, taking a deep breath I turn and face Alec. Not expecting what happens next, I am pleasantly surprised to be pulled into a lingering embrace, returning it happily. We both pull away, and it is only now that I glimpse a boyish grin I haven't seen in quite awhile.

"What's got you all happy and smiley?" I tease with a questioning smirk, squinting my eyes playfully at his expression. He maintains the grin as he pushes me away bashfully.

"Oh nothing extraordinary, I've just finally come to the realization that my best friend is back." He states in his thick Scottish brogue, glancing over at me before back to the ground in embarrassment of how he's acting. I can't withhold my joyous smug grin at knowing he missed me as much as I missed him.

"You have no idea how much I've missed that accent." I state just above a whisper as I pull him back towards me, my arms resting on his while his rest lazily on my waist, both of us smiling at each other in glee in spite of recent events. Pushing away from him gently, I pull him over so we are both sitting on the bed, myself glancing at the time before quickly around his room while missing the fact that he is simply looking at me.

Finally stopping my wandering gaze I focus onto Alec, giving him a sheepish smile, my eyes drifting to the ground as I wring my hands slightly.

"Sorry... about Oliver. He's quite a brat, first he claims he's my boyfriend, and now he's giving away a dead child's information to the world." I explain in disgust, emphasizing on how he's a brat. Alec reaches over, grasping both my hands delicately to stop me from wringing them, his eyes visibly soften at how I'm apologizing for Oliver.

"No need to apologize Els, I knew from the first time I saw him that he was going to be a thorn in my side, so don't you dare go apologizing for him." He answers in a serious tone as he subconsciously runs his thumb lightly over the top of my hand. I grin back at him, I've always noticed that he was kind to me and only me, even with Tess he never seemed to be this gentle and vulnerable.

"I've really missed you." He quietly states, bringing me out of my thoughts, looking up into his amber brown eyes. A slight smile formed on my lips at their warmness.

"I'm really sorry about leaving, I understand if you hold a grudge against me for that. After all, I didn't even tell you where I was going, or that I even was going." I respond and retract my hands, fearful that even with him being so kind, he would still hold a grudge. I am pleasantly surprised when he lets out a gruff chuckle, not sinister or anything, more of an amused one. I looked up at him in confusion, I was sure he would hold a grudge against me.

"Oh Els, after all our years of friendship! I was sure you would know by now, that it is impossible for me to stay angry at you." He exclaims in amusement, holding out his hands for me to grasp them again, which I willingly do.

After talking with him, we ended up with us laying down and staring at the ceiling as we talked, almost forgetting about the conference in a few hours. We quickly catch up on what we've missed since we've been separated. I learned more about the divorce, like how the rumors about Tess cheating were true, how he didn't even fight to get her back, and how he and Daisy seem to have an even greater tension in their relationship now, apparently she barely even answers let alone returns his calls; and then, worst of all, how Tess lost evidence and Alec took the blame for it.

The guilt of me leaving returns, I openly apologize for leaving him alone, but he is so forgiving to me that it makes me feel even more guilty, though I withhold telling him that. In return to his explanation, I explain how I've been doing in Broadchurch, how I've become a fairly popular person, most people in the area at least know me, though my closest friends would be Ellie and Beth. The things I do keep from him are all my health issues I have now, depression, insomnia, and panic attacks would only make him worry, and I am most definitely not going to tell him about what happened in my first month of being in Broadchurch that caused the panic attacks. Continuing on, Alec questions how I can even put up with Ellie, which ends up with both of us having a laugh as we argue about Ellie.

"She's not that bad, she welcomed me without a question when I arrived." I state as I look over at Alec with a giggle, thinking back to when I first arrived and felt like a fish out of water.

"I can't bloody stand her, she just smiles so much, and can't remain objective, and she acts like she's everybody's bloody solicitor." He replies with slight frustration at Ellie's friendly attitude. I simply give him a grin as I turn over onto my side and poke his chest in an amused way.

"Maybe if you weren't such an ass, you would get along with her better." I playfully accuse, emphasizing him acting like an ass to everyone. He glares at me before quickly grabbing my hand, though surprisingly gentle. His playful glare slips away as a new look enters his eyes, one I haven't seen him give me since back in high school.

The look in his eyes is one of love, placing a soft kiss on my hand as he looks up at me. My eyes widened slightly, I've liked him since high school, but I never acted on it in fear of the repercussions and my feelings became dormant, and when he married Tess I thought his feelings for me were gone, but clearly not.

"Never knew you as the romantic type Alec." I state quietly, trying to play it off as if he were simply teasing me. We both sit up now, still looking at each other in silent tension, both unsure about what to do next, though neither of us is uncomfortable. I make no move away from him as he lightly cups my jaw in his hand, and slowly brings us closer together.

We are mere centimeters away from each other now, he hesitates slightly as he glances down at my lips momentarily before searching my eyes.

"Tell me to stop, and I will." He voices, slightly hoarse in anticipation and nervousness. I swallow slightly as I look into his warm and welcoming eyes, only nodding my head in fear my voice will fail me.

He quickly searches my eyes once more for any signs of rejection before swiftly moving forward, our lips meeting before I can truly believe what's going on.

Once, then twice, the first seeming as a hesitant one, almost as if testing the water to make sure it's safe to go further. The second was far different, almost as if all his pent up emotion was trying to be conveyed in one moment, it was during the second that I realized I'd never have enough of him. Both of us feel a fervent, almost urgent need for each other, as if all our years of dormant feelings are trying to make up for it in this one moment.

————————

The conference was now only about 40 minutes away, and Alec still hadn't changed out of his disgruntled clothes and into his other suit, but then again, we both were a bit distracted.

After a couple more minutes of indulgence I finally had enough self-control to break apart, both of us panting slightly though still looking at each other hungrily.

I softly place my hand on his chest before giving him a short kiss and pushing him away.

"Come on, we had a couple hours to get ready for that conference, and now we are nearing only having a half hour left." I say as we continue to look at each other. Neither of us truly want to separate, but knowing that we have to. He slowly pushes himself up and stands, holding out his hand and helping me up as well.

"I have to pop off back home to get changed, but I'll meet you at the station." I explain as I walk towards a mirror and straighten my shirt and hair to make it look like I didn't just have a snog.

"Fair enough." Alec responds as he grabs another suit, though surprising me by walking up and softly kissing my cheek.

"I'll see you at the station." He states, his voice hoarse as he smiles at me before I leave.

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Driving back to the station, my normal blue business suit changed to a formal black one, a pair of black Dr. Martens boots shined to perfection, my hair also neatly combed.

I enter the code and drive into the parking area, quickly pulling the top up and locking the doors. Entering the station I greet the uniforms before heading off to our section of the building.

As I walk in I am greeted by Alec nearly bumping into me, a blush rising on my cheeks before our attention is pulled over to Ellie talking to us.

"Look at this. CCTV from the town center, last night." Both of us walked over to different sides of her chair and leaned over her desk to watch.

"Is that Danny?" Alec questions.

"It matches his clothes and his height. And that looks like his skateboard. He wasn't abducted." Ellie states as we watch the footage.

"He snuck out?" I mumble, wondering why, where or who he would possibly be going to see that late at night.

"Why? Where was he going? Who was he meeting?" Alec vocalizes everything I was just thinking.

"And where's his skateboard?" I fire back, earning a 'yeah' in response.

"Oh, and another thing. I was checking through the list of belongings recovered from Danny's body and at home, and there's no mobile phone. He definitely had one, because he and Tom, my son, had the same model. Virtually identical." Ellie continues, causing only more questions to pop into my head. Ignoring the rest of what they were saying as I think about what I've heard, where is his phone and skateboard? Someone is definitely keeping them, so who? They would've had to either be out really late/early, or be the killer, did the phone have proof of them meeting?

I'm dragged out of my thoughts, realizing Alec had just walked off and Ellie looked surprised.

"Spacing off again, CARLISLE?" Ellie sarcastically questions, over-emphasizing my last name.

"No idea what you're talking about, MILLER." I sassily reply before walking off, both of us giggling to ourselves because of our childish antics.

————————

Alec is a few minutes away from going up in front of the cameras. I quickly pull him aside, fretting over his messy hair and loose tie, only earning an amused look from him.

"I'll be fine, I always look this way." He says as I do up the top button, brushing his hair out of his face.

"That's what worries me." I respond before finishing his look by tightening his tie and smoothing his shirt. Giving him a small smile before kissing him on the cheek and sending him to wait to be called up. The only thought running through my head is,

"What am I going to do with that man?"

Ch.5 Ch.7

Unraveled Ch.3: The Family

Ch.2 Ch.4

After doing some paperwork for about an hour Ellie suddenly runs into the office, rushing over to my desk.

"Come on Els! The beach has been blocked off and we're both being called down there. Apparently there is a body." Ellie whispers quickly to me in distress.

I look up at her, feeling my memories attempting to resurface, but I quickly push them back, swallowing my nerves as I put on my cold, stern exterior. We quickly walked out of the department, hopping into our respective cars and heading over to the beach. I can constantly feel the memories of that little girl's body in the water trying to pick its way into my vision, but I shake it off. I couldn't avenge her, but I can try and solve whoever it is that we find.

Flashing our badges we park our cars and get access to the beach, I stumble slightly in the sand as Ellie and I weave through the small group of people beginning to crowd against the police tape.

We walk straight up to the tape, quickly being allowed in by the uniforms, Ellie going first and walking towards the body. I, however, feel myself slowing down, the waves rolling and the image of a child's dead body being all too similar. My mind and my body feel disconnected, like I am physically here but my mind is simply watching the nauseating scene unfold.

The only thought in my mind being, 'Is this penance for my downfalls, God?', closing my eyes and sharply reopening them I push myself forwards, watching Ellie beginning to get emotional, I think I heard her saying 'no' and 'I know this boy.' Both of these caused my blood to run just that much colder.

I trek towards the body with false confidence, keeping my eyes trained on the body. I can see figures of the D.I. and Ellie having a slight confrontation in my peripheral vision, but I pay them no mind as I spot the body of Danny Latimer lying in the cold sand.

I then look up when I hear an all too familiar accent and tone. The buried feeling of longing resurfacing as the voice awakens old memories.

"Shut it down. You're working a case now!" His voice was serious and his accent Scottish, I finally look up to see his face. He luckily hasn't seen me yet, but seeing him causes my striding over there to hesitate greatly as I feel my facade of confidence crumbling in mere seconds.

He introduced himself to Ellie but I care not about that, all I can focus on is the face of my best friend, Alec Hardy. Luckily they are talking about Danny, him turning around as Ellie identifies the body, Alec turning around as he learns this information. The sickening feeling in my gut is only growing in this whole situation, but I push myself forward. I've got a crime to solve now and I can't let past personal experience interfere with that.

I walk forwards, my feet feeling heavy, the type of heavy like when your boots are filled with water that can never be emptied. I only stop when I reach Ellie, trying to stay out of Alec's view.

"Ellie? Is that who I think it is?" My question rang through the tense air, my voice soft and accent not as noticeable. Ellie jumped in fright before realizing it's me.

"How bad are the uniforms at keeping civilians out of a crime scene?!" Alec exclaims in anger, luckily not looking at me yet.

"They're not that bad, seeing as I'm no civilian Alec." I state. Ellie looks at me in surprise and confusion as I call our new D.I. by his first name. Even he freezes at my tense greeting, almost as if having a moment of realization at hearing my voice. He slowly turns to see my face, the face of his missing best friend, the face of a person he desperately longed for though thought he would never see again.

"Elswyth?" His soft yet gruff voice is full of longing and questioning. His eyes seemingly darkening in sadness as he remembers our past together. Sadly we don't get long to remember as I hear the sound of someone who is not going to take this situation well at all, Beth Latimer.

"Oh, God, who's that?" Alec questions as he shifts his gaze to the distraught mother.

Ellie and I both looked as well with wide eyes, seeing one of our closest friends and mother to the now deceased Danny. We both glance at each other before stumbling forwards, holding our arms out to catch Beth before she can reach Danny. Ellie is telling her she can't be here, but my only focus is to keep her from reaching Danny. I grab her, struggling as she pulls me slightly forward, Alec grabbing her too until the uniforms finally rush over and drag her back, Beth fighting violently as she screams about how those are Danny's trainers, screaming both of our names in despair.

I quickly look away, stumbling backwards slightly, this is all wrong, it's happening all over again. I feel as though I'm going to collapse and be sick when two strong arms grasp me quickly, holding me against their chest as comforting words are spoken quietly. I recognize him, his smell and touch are the same even after not seeing him for so long. He turns me around, as I rest my head against him, his arms wrapped tightly around me as we both understand how this is affecting each other.

After a few more moments I push away from him, I can't let Ellie see this, she would quickly catch on to what happened in my past, and I don't want her hating me like how she loathes Alec. He looks at me as I stumble back again, reaching out to steady me but I push his hands away, he stops immediately, looking down slightly and lowering his hand at my rejection. I can't stand looking at him sad, so instead I turn to Ellie, her hands against her forehead at the despair of Beth. I quickly pull her into a hug, I know this is going to be one of the worst experiences of her life, and I have to be there to make sure it doesn't end up how my case did.

——————————

We're walking along the cliffs, the tape now blocking the edge. We all walk through the y'all grass, I cross my arms across my body as a form of comfort, the waves below splashing loudly.

"They let people walk along here, no safety barriers?" Alec questions, his tone confused as to why.

"It's the coastal path, people know to be careful." Ellie responds simply, all of us continuing to trudge through the tall grass.

"It's a death trap." Alec states as he looks behind us then back around. I give a small, almost nonexistent smile at how blunt he still is, hopefully he doesn't realize how much I've missed his rudely blunt and socially awkward personality.

We continue walking, finally running into SOCO at the crime scene.

"How's it going?" Alec asks as we stop to speak with Brian.

"Well, from what we've got up here, sir, it's looking like the rockfall around the body was faked." Brian responded solemnly. My eyes going dark as I now know for sure that this is a murder.

"What do you mean?" Ellie questions. I hold in my sigh of annoyance as I remember that I can't be mad, this is after all her first murder, as well as this town's first murder; I'm going to have to be patient for Ellie. Brian continues to talk but I feel my mind wandering elsewhere as I examine the area in my head, already having seen that there was no proof Danny was even up here, I then begin to think of all possible suspects, the family are always suspects at first, as well as anyone he might've seen on a day to day basis.

I don't even realize we're leaving until I hear my name being yelled, "Els! Let's go!" I quickly look over to see Alec glance over at my frozen form before walking down the path and Ellie waving me over before following Alec. I quickly run over to catch up, hearing Alec telling Ellie to get the pathologist to hurry up even if it's preliminary. I walk a few feet behind them both, my head looking down at the steps until I hear a sharp yell that grabs my attention.

"D.S. Miller! D.S. Carlisle!"

"Who's that?" Alec questions Ellie as to why someone is shouting our names. I look up to see the one and only obnoxious reporter, Olly Stevens. I push in between them, pushing both of them forwards faster.

"Just keep walking." Ellie sighs as she picks up the pace.

"Ellie! Els!" Olly shouts as if we're best buds.

"He seems to know both of you." Alec states, albeit a little bitterly as he looks at me. I roll my eyes knowing exactly what he's thinking.

"Auntie Ellie! Auntie Els!"

"No no no, don't pull that bullshit Olly." I angrily snarl as I continue walking, now leaving the other two behind as I head to my car.

"I told you, don't do that!" I hear Ellie practically growl at him in annoyance. I ignore them as I go to open my door, looking back to see Alec scowl and release a disgusted sound when hearing Olly works for the Broadchurch Echo. I smile slightly at that scowl upon his face, it makes me remember back to when I would call him Hardy when we were younger and he would scowl in annoyance before returning the favor and calling me Carlisle. I realize what I'm doing and wipe the smile off my face, slipping into my old Alfa Romeo and waiting for Ellie to leave, hearing bits of their conversation and how they're not giving statements.

Olly, seeming to not have any luck with them, instead rushes over to my car.

"Auntie Els, I heard there was a body?"

"Don't pull that shit Oliver, we're not giving statements right now, and you are not allowed to speculate. Now shut it and wait till we give a proper statement." Feeling pissed I slam my door, harshly shifting gears before I speed off to follow Ellie to the Latimer house.

——————————

We all exit our vehicles, Ellie looking a little confused and perturbed. Alec must've told her to tell him if the family we're acting odd. I understand why she's acting like that, but she needs to understand that right now everybody's a suspect. Ellie walks up to the doors first, Alec hangs back and pulls me aside.

"Els, I know this case is bringing up bad memories, if you want to hang back in the cars I understand." Alec states, his normally rough Scottish voice now quiet and concerned. I smile slightly, resting my hand against his shoulder as he looks at my eyes.

"I would love to take up that offer, but this is Ellie's first homicide, and I can't let her face that with you, I know you understand what you're doing, but Ellie won't listen to you, she needs me there to guide her." I pat his chest before walking up to the door, Mark answering it. A flash of uncertainty streaming across his eyes as he greets Alec, Ellie, and myself.

We enter their home, meeting the whole family in the living room. Beth standing up, anxious and restless as she already knows why we're here. Her daughter Chloe, gazing up at me as if begging me to tell them it's not Danny. I look away, the ground becoming my sole focus as they take their seats.

"Hi I'm Detective Inspector Alec Hardy, and I believe you know D.S. Miller and D.S. Carlisle" Alec introduces, inviting them to sit down as he grabs me and himself a chair. We all sit down, the whole family distraught, Ellie barely keeping it together, and Alec being the one forced to keep it together. I'm simply there, I'm there for Ellie and the family, and now I'm also here to make sure that Alec is alright as well.

"The body of a young boy was found..." Alec starts before Beth interrupts, being hushed by Mark before he tells Alec to continue.

"We believe it's Danny's body." Alec states.

Beth looks over at us as she breaks down, "Please Ellie, Elspeth... Was it him?" Beth's question destroys Ellie, she looks over at me before nodding in confirmation to Beth. Beth breaking down even more now, Ellie being unable to hold in some of her tears.

The whole family shudders, the dread of the situation amplifies as everyone cries and Mark attempts to keep it together and hold the family.

I have a feeling of complete emptiness, this is the second murder of a child I have to investigate where I know the family personally, and this is going to be the one to destroy what was left of my shattered soul. My hands shake slightly, and Alec discreetly reaches over to hold them, running his thumb over the top of my hand to calm me down whilst still keeping an eye on the family's reaction. I knew this case was hitting close to home for him as well, so I attempted to soothe him as well, squeezing his hands in thanks and comfort.

Ch.2 Ch.4

Rockstar: Your Story(Interview)

You're a famous rock star being interviewed about the beginning of your career to the current (includes mentions of Mick Ronson, David Bowie, and Mick Jagger):

"Ma'am, can you tell us a little bit about when you first met David Bowie?" The question was so sudden that I could only scrunch my eyebrows at it. I expected David to be brought up sometime, but I didn't expect the first question to be about him.

"Sure, let's see.... I can't remember the exact date, but my dear friend - Mick Ronson - had called me up saying some band was interested in having us as guitar players. I was hesitant because I enjoyed my job as an architect, but something pushed me to go with him; we hopped on the next train to London and did the audition." I explain, tilting my head up at the memories resurfacing. Ronno had been unsure as well, but I'm glad we went.

"We heard it wasn't a pleasant experience? What happened?" They emphasize 'wasn't', clearly looking for some juicy gossip on Bowie, and who am I to disappoint.

"Well, David had accepted Mick but rejected me, and Ronno originally turned down the offer because of that. He didn't even tell me the truth, just grabbed me by the arm and lugged me as well as the guitars out of the building. I knew it hadn't gone well because he had this angry glare in his eyes, which is strange, because if you've ever met him, then you'd know he's rather sweet, and has a very discerning disposition.

I asked what was wrong and he just said that they didn't want us. I knew he was lying, but I didn't want to argue with him. We spent the rest of the time wandering around London sightseeing." I state, folding my hands up in my lap as I look at the interviewer. I don't like looking back to the '70s, a lot of stuff happened, and I fear what they will bring up.

"What happened after that?" The interviewer continues hastily digging, wanting more information. I guess this person isn't going to quit until they get the full story.

"We had stopped by a restaurant and were having lunch. Ronno was saying we should catch the train home after, but we were interrupted by David. I don't know how he found us, I just remember being shocked when he started begging Ronno to join his band. I was also a little confused, and I remember saying, 'I thought you didn't want us?'

To which David responded, 'No, I want him, I just don't want you.' That line had run through my head the following 3 years until I realized how lucky I was David didn't want me." I say the last few sentences in a softer voice, not liking to relive that particular memory.

"He said what?!" The interviewer over exaggerates their movements, getting the audience laughing just as they had hoped. I laugh a little too, David saying something so rude does seem rather uncharacteristic.

"Yah, I was rather astonished as well because the words left him in such a casual way, as if choosing what bread to buy at the market." I say, gently chuckling at the visual of David buying bread in such a critical way.

"What- How, how did Mick react to that." Their eyes widen, the crowd quiets down as they await my answer.

"Oh, he almost punched David! But I grabbed him and pulled him aside, asking why he lied and all that stuff." I respond, remembering the beautiful anger that he so desperately wanted to act on.

"I bet the last thing you wanted was for him to join David's band, right?" The interviewer asks the question humorously.

"That's... Wrong actually. He was vehemently against playing in a band without me, this is mainly due to the fact that ever since we were 12, we've always played together. But, I wanted him to take the opportunity, to show the world his ability, and to be able to be a confident player without me." I explain in a gentle voice, vaguely thinking of how self-conscious he was at the time when it came to him playing guitar.

"You seem to be a really supportive friend, (Y/N)." The tone of their voice turns genuine, the whole conversation losing the humorous quality that had been sustained.

"I try to be, the last thing I want is for people's failings or regrets to be because of me." I smile, my relieved guilt ebbing away as I think of where he and I are now.

"As well as being supportive, you also seem to be fairly protective, at least, that's what I got when Mick told us the story of you traumatizing his high school bully! With that in mind, how did you feel when you learned he was earning next to nothing during the tour?" The beginning of the sentence sent the interviewer and audience into a bit of a laugh, I laugh as well at the memory of scaring off Ronno's bully.

The laughter lightly quiets down to a more serious tone at the end discussion.

"I was appalled! I hated myself for a while because of that, because I pushed him into this situation where he was barely getting paid. Which was the opposite of what I thought would happen, especially after their popularity went through the roof!"I exclaimed, my eyes widening as I relived the shock; the ebbing guilt rushing forward tenfold.

"I heard you went to some extreme measures in order to help him out, what exactly did you do?" The interviewer goes on, the questions digging into lesser known information.

"Well, I joined any band I could, I would try and get hired by restaurants for live music during nights, and then during the day I had a job as a waitress as well as working part time as a lyricist." I explain, just saying that makes me remember how tiring my schedule was back then.

"Now that's a lot to juggle, and I'm sure you have some great stories from those days, but we have a specific story. What happened during one of your many tiring nights of live music?" They ask, this question is sort of a bore to me, one I'm frequently asked to retell.

"I had been band hopping at the time, and was hired for a gig when I didn't have a supportive group, so I improvised. I played my guitar and was singing live, but before that I had recorded the drums and rhythm guitar parts for the songs I was scheduled to play, so when I got up there I just started the recording and played along.

This was for a club where they wanted rock, so it was heavier playing. It was during my guitar solo I noticed someone in the crowd." I divulged, deciding to add in some information I had never shared before.

"Ooh, is this when you met the Rolling Stones?!" Someone screams out, the crowd and interviewer looking in shock before they all burst out laughing at the person's eagerness.

"Yes... but I technically only met Mick Jagger that night. I wasn't a big fan of the Rolling Stones at the time, but I did have an appreciation for their music. I was actually playing one of their songs at the time. Either way, it just surprised me to see him." I continued after we had all calmed down.

"I know you joined their band after that, but can you tell us what exactly went down?" I squint slightly at my interviewer's vernacular before deciding to just answer them.

"I don't think I can tell you all the details, I worry J might get embarrassed! But, I can tell you that he met me backstage after I was done and asked me if I was available tomorrow to meet him at a recording studio. It was the weekend the next day, so I said yes, he wrote down the address and time on a piece of paper, handed it to me, then said goodbye and walked away." I state in a jovial tone, Jagger is one of my favorite people to talk about, because he loves to call immediately after the interview and schedule a meet up. He's strange like that.

"Sounds strange? How did you feel after that?" They looked intrigued, clearly wanting me to divulge the information that I withheld.

"I was shocked. The next day I went and met him and his band mates, then they started playing a song together and asked me to improv. I had never heard the song before, so I just started watching their movements and playing off of that; by the end they asked if I was interested in joining their band, which I clearly said yes to." I exclaim, the interviewer's face looking shocked by what I just said.

"Wow, that all sounds like it went really fast?"

"Oh it was, we had only been playing for 20 minutes when they all stopped and asked me to join. I was going to say no because I needed to make enough money to send to Ronno, but when they mentioned how much I would make weekly I immediately accepted." I reply, chuckling as I remember my astonishment.

"I know after joining the Stones, your career skyrocketed, your solo albums have done well, and you write all your own songs?" They continue, motioning to my newest album sitting on their desk.

"Yes, my solo albums have done surprisingly well, and I write my own songs. I do accept and sing other songs sometimes, but I usually have a story told throughout my albums, and throwing in a random song messes that up." I explained.

"Did you and Mick Ronson keep in contact during this?" They question, looking at me in interest.

"Of course! In the beginning, Ronno and I called every week at the least, and we would send letters sometimes too!" I state ecstatically before calming myself down.

"How did that work? He was touring at the time right?" They ask in a befuddled way.

"Yes he was, but he would tell me the places he would be as well as the dates that he would be there, and I would do the same with him. It was a little complicated, but it was worth it." I reply, my hands waving as I mimic us writing letters.

"Honestly though, what would you send him that couldn't be said over the phone?" They ask after a few moments, laughing as their mind runs.

"Photos, drawings, songs, food-"

"Photos?" I can hear what they're implying, and I can't help but squint my face in disgust. The crowd's laughter magnified at my reaction.

"Stop thinking like that, you all have dirty minds! I would take pictures of me and the band, as well as the places around me. I loved drawing as well, so I would send him some, as well as some songs that I thought he would enjoy playing. Lastly, I knew he was getting food, but I knew it wasn't food he was used to, so I would bake him something, or buy him local snacks and ship them off to the correct address." I explain, describing the different things I would send him.

"Did he ask you to do any of this?"

"No, Ronno was never a complainer, he hated telling people his issues. I was usually the exception, but he prefers telling me in person as compared to over the phone or in a letter. He did enjoy them though, and he would send me songs and pictures as well. I remember him snapping a picture of his drummer scarfing down some cookies I made!" I jubilantly state, smirking as I remember that the picture is still hanging on my fridge.

"You sent him all these lovely things, what did he send you?"

"I never asked for anything more than a letter or a phone call, but he would send me these extravagant songs, asking me how I thought they sounded and if I liked them. He would also send me drawings - he's not really an artist, but he knows I love the little doodles he does randomly, so he started sending them to me." I grin, knowing Ronni will be embarrassed by me sharing this information.

"Was this an easier time in your life or would you consider it one of the more stressful?" Ah, here it comes, the questions I am most dreading.

"The fame and fortune made my financial issues about none, but socially I felt isolated. I had played in popular bands before, but never like this, I was only consistently around my band mates and the people that worked for them. I only really talked with Jagger and Keith, and then Keith randomly started hating me, so I was down to only talking to Jagger." I reply almost subconsciously, my mind wanting to distance itself from these memories.

"What about Ronson? I thought you said you had weekly phone calls and sent letters?" They ask in confusion.

"We did, but about 3 months into that, David started complaining to Ronno that he spent too much time talking to me, and that he was ignoring his band mates for someone he might never see again." The answer in a short tone, clearly still holding resentment for David's decision.

"David said that?" They say in shock.

"Yah, he said it straight to Ronno's face. We obviously didn't stop talking, we kept calling and messaging each other, but it lessened after that to about 1 call every 2 weeks. They became much longer phone calls though, he said that David was limiting his amount of calls, but stated that David couldn't limit his time, so we would end up talking through the entire night!" I smile on glee, our weak form of rebellion still makes my heart warm.

"We've talked about Ronson and his band mates reactions, but how did your bandmates react?" They continue, going down a different avenue.

"Well, everyone basically made fun of me and said we were in love. They told me to stop being so desperate because I was probably annoying Ronno, that remark actually made me start to overthink a lot. I started worrying that I was annoying him, and that he didn't like talking to me anymore. I think that's around the time I began to develop anxiety, I was already depressed, so that just added on to my plate." I responded before realizing I was over sharing on live TV.

"Did you tell Ronson about that? How did he react?" They gratefully kept moving right along, not leaving an awkward silence.

"Well, I never actually told him about that, I think this is the first time he's hearing this." I smile in discomfort, and an uncertain smile on my face.

"Really? You never spoke to him about any of this?" They ask in surprise, slightly taken aback.

"My anxiety had me thinking that saying a single word to him was annoying him, so no, I didn't just start talking about this to him. It was a really dark spot for me, the person to pull me through was Jagger actually. He noticed my extensive isolation, how I stopped eating around others, how I stopped talking. He really pulled through for me, which is probably why I'm still friends with him." I voice solemnly, deciding that I might as well be honest about the situation since there is no going back now.

"I know this is a heavy topic for you, I have some more questions, but if you're uncomfortable we can move on." Wish you had said that earlier, but oh well.

"Ask away, we can just skip the ones I'm uncomfortable with." I smile in response.

"Alright, what did Mick do? Did he just pull you aside and talk to you?"

"No actually, he wrote a song and asked if I would listen to it." I responded.

"What?" Perhaps I should rephrase my vague response.

"That's honestly what he did. But he wrote a song with true meaning, it was rather dark, and it actually made me cry and begin to hyperventilate. We were alone, so he just rushed over and helped calm me down; he didn't ask me any questions until I had completely relaxed." I explained honestly.

"What did he say exactly?" They continue.

"He just apologized, asking if I wanted to talk. I said no at first, but then he asked why I've been distancing myself from him and the band, why all the songs I was writing were either dark or sad.

I told him the truth, that I was depressed, that I felt so intensely alone, and that I could no longer talk to Ronno because I was probably annoying him." An uncomfortable shiver ran up my spine, reliving those memories makes me feel nauseous.

"How did he react to that? I can't really picture him being the best at giving advice and comfort." She smiles in a joking way, attempting to lighten the conversation.

"He was lovely, he hugged me like a giant teddy bear and told me that he would help me through this. We talked for a while, he asked me why I thought I was annoying Ronno, and I told him what the band had said to me." I answer, feeling a small smile appear at the memory of Mick comforting me.

"What did he say to that?"

"He told me that they were a bunch of single idiots who were jealous, and that I shouldn't ruin a meaningful relationship with my best friend by believing the words of immature drug addicts." I respond, barely withholding my laughter as I watch everyone's reaction.

"He said that?!" They nearly yell, everyone laughing at my answer.

"Yes, and the next day he told them all off for belittling me. During our talk he spoke to me about my isolation, I explained that I did that when I was sad or feeling out of place, and he asked what he could do to make me feel like a part of the team. He honestly made me cry a couple of times from how caring he was. Then he started talking about heavier subjects, such as why I wasn't eating during lunch breaks, why I never accepted snacks, and why I was noticeably losing weight." I state, realizing that I was now broaching the subject of my eating disorder.

"That must've been tough." They state seriously.

"It was, I realized at that moment, how much I missed Ronno. I asked Jagger if he wanted me to leave the band since I was such a problem, but he told me to stop being an idiot. The next day I was given a few sheepish apologies from my band mates, and Jagger became a very prominent person in my life from that day on." I explained.

"That's good. So Mick Jagger stepping up to help you must've put him pretty high on your list of friends right?"

"Yes, I only realized how much he was doing for me when he barged into my room during a depressive episode and all but shoved the phone into my hand. I distinctly remember him telling me not to come out until tomorrow morning. When I held the phone up, he had actually dialed up Ronno, who sounded very tired and confused, as well as concerned." I smile, these are the memories that I hold onto dearly.

"Really? How did he know what number to call?"

"I assume he went snooping around my desk, in one of my drawers was a paper with dates, addresses, and numbers. It was one of the sweetest things anybody had ever done for me." The look on my face was genuine, that was honestly one of the sweetest things anyone has done for me.

"I know you two are still good friends, but was there ever the possibility of anything more?" Oh boy, I hate it when they try to talk about this subject.

"I did find him to be attractive if that's what you're asking, but I was never in love with him. He did ask me out on a date and I had said yes, the date was lovely, but we got caught in a crowd of fans and he was like how he normally is. It made me remember how many groupies I'd seen leaving his room, and how many women I've seen smothered over him at all times, and it scared me away from ever allowing myself to love him." I reply sincerely.

"Could there have been something? If you hadn't cut it off?" They continue to push the topic.

"There could've been something eventually - from the despondent look on his face when I said I didn't want a relationship, I think he wanted us to become something more. I don't regret what I did, I like the friendship I have with him, the last thing I wanted to do was ruin it with his promiscuity and my need for loyalty. We've moved on though, I kind of see him as the older brother I never had." I reply, explaining my reasoning and the aftermath.

"Well, since that ship has definitely sunk, what about Ronson? Was there ever anything there?" They just won't give up will they?

"No... Well, there was one time in high school when we thought we should try dating, but that was spurred on by our teenage inability to understand that we loved each other, but not in that way. We realized that that wasn't us when we tried to act like a couple and both noticed that it felt forced. Ever since then we've been best friends." I state.

"Gosh, you're shooting down all of the fan favorites. Are you interested in anyone? Anyone at all?" They sound slightly exasperated, maybe I should throw them a bone.

"Hmmm... Maybe." I smile, a mischievous glint surely in my eye.

"What do you mean maybe? You can't leave the fans hanging like that!" I can tell that I have their genuine attention now.

"Well, ever since David and I have become friends, I've been... slightly interested in him." I say, jumping straight into the deep end.

"..." The silence could almost be described as palpable, it almost makes me want to laugh at how everyone is stunned into silence.

"Well, don't just stare at me." I laugh lightly.

"... I'm sorry, just processing. Does David know this?" They ask in hurried confusion.

"Well, if he's watching like he said he would, then he knows now." I laughed once again, but this time it had an air of uncertainty to it.

"Don't tell me you just confessed over live TV, in an interview no less!" They say in shock, looking at me with wide eyes.

"What can I say! If he likes me back then this has worked out great." I respond, grinning at their reaction.

"What if he doesn't!" Their response makes me shiver in discomfort at that possibility, but I respond in humor.

"Then I die of embarrassment, cut all ties, and become a hermit!" I state loudly.

"Oh don't do that Y/N! Only healthy reactions are allowed on this show." The crowd laughs lightly at our convo.

I'm about to respond, but my Motorola starts ringing in my bag. I look to the interviewer before quickly digging through my bag and pulling out the phone. I sheepishly glance at it, the audience having fallen silent at the interruption.

"Is it alright if I answer this? It might be important." I state, I know this sounds bad, but it could actually be important since I left my home and animals under the care of my neighbor.

"Of course, but you owe us one more question before you leave then." They respond, holding out their hand.

"Deal!" I agree, shaking their hand quickly.

"Hello, this is Y/N." I state in a professional tone, getting a funny look from the interviewer at my seriousness.

"Y/N darling!" I am thrown off by the happy and familiar tone.

"...David?!" I state in slight confusion, everyone seeming to lean in closer.

"...Yes?" He responds in the same tone, making fun of the way I responded.

"Why are you calling me? I'm in an interview." I explain, swiftly going back to my professional tone.

"Yes well, when someone confesses they are interested in dating you, I thought the first thing one should do is accept." He responds in a joking yet serious tone.

I'm silent for a few moments in surprise, did David just say he wants to date me too?

"Well, don't leave me without a response darling... Will you go on a date with me." His serious and self assured tone dwindled slightly, I can hear his uncertainty.

"Yes." My response was short, it was rushed and all I could muster with my amount of shock.

"Good, I'll pick you up after the interview, so I'll see you in a few minutes." He stated before hanging up.

I can't contain the overjoyed smile that spreads across my face, most certainly accompanied by a warm blush. The audience snickers as I clumsily put my phone away, then they start laughing as the interviewer stares at me with a smug grin.

"Who was that?" They ask tauntingly.

"Ohhh... no one." I try to brush it off, but I know no one is believing.

"Really! Does this no one happen to be named David Bowie?" They continue.

I avert my eyes in embarrassment, the audience laughing even louder as I sheepishly nod my head.

Alfred Pennyworth: Alone

Imagine your dad(Bruce Wayne) is an absolute ass, and Alfred ends up becoming your emotional support after you go through a terrible event:

- Lil warning: sexual battery, battery, kidnapping, hints alluding to rape, Bruce is an asshole, depression, thoughts of self harm -

Being the daughter of Bruce Wayne carries a lot of weight, you are expected to be great at everything, get amazing grades, have good friends, be a good person, etc, but the truth is that you can't always be that person.

Sure, I get good grades most of the time, but they never seem to be enough for dad. My friends are great and supportive, they know all about my feelings, and they never use me because of my last name, but that doesn't mean my father approves of them. And last but not least, I am who I am, I can't be the socialite and extrovert my father wants me to be, I can't dress the way he wants me to, and I can't act the way he wants me to.

This isn't done out of rebellion, I really want to be the daughter my dad wants, I want him to be proud of me, but I just feel like a hollow shell whenever I try.

———————

Today I went to hangout with some people, I decided to try and be friends with people my father has openly approved of, but everything just feels so shallow.

They all dressed fancy, most of them wearing expensive brands. I even dressed like them in an attempt to fit in, but I felt like such a fake. Remembering my fathers look of approval when he saw me and when I told him about my plans makes me push away my discomfort, just wanting to get through the day.

We had gone out to eat after school, and now were just messing around in a park. It was getting late, and I really wanted to head home, but I don't even know where I am anymore.

I'm in a group of about 5 people, 3 of them being guys and the other 2 are girls. The guys and girls are dating, so just me and this other guy are basically third wheeling. The couples want to go to the movies, but I know they are just going to be making out, so I decline, stating I'll just wait in the park for their movie to end; the other guy also declines, stating he'll also wait.

The guy - I think his name is Chase - and I went and sat on a bench near the outskirts of the park. It was really getting dark now, and I desperately wanted to go home and curl up in my bed and forget about this day, but Chase simply will not stop talking. He's actually not that annoying, and he's not half bad to look at with his brown hair swept to the side, his green eyes looking at me intently.

I stand up and Chase stops talking, his expression almost looking irritated that I interrupted.

"I think I'll be heading home now." For a moment I glimpsed anger flashing through his eyes, but it was gone just as immediately, instead being replaced by an extravagant smile.

"Sure, I'll walk you to your bus stop." I almost feel like blushing, but he probably only offered because I'm a young girl alone in Gotham at night. I smile instead, and say 'thank you' before beginning my walk to the bus stop. It's not too far, only about a half mile walk, but as we pass an alley, Chase motions for me to follow him though it, stating it was a shortcut.

I don't feel comfortable, I don't like alleys in the first place, adding in the fact that it's night makes it even worse. I go to tell Chase no, but looking into the alley I realize I can't see him anymore. Fear surges within me, is he okay? Where did he go? I hesitantly step into the alley when I hear him urgently shouting my name.

I run to his voice, hoping to see that he's okay, but as I turn into a corner within the alley I'm quickly shoved into the rough brick wall. My head is aching in pain, as well as my back. I try to shove the person away, but they secure my hands with theirs, their chest grazing against mine. I don't know what's happening, I can't tell who this is because it's so dark.

I can feel the tears running down my cheeks as one of their hands gropingly wanders over my body.

"Oh, don't tell me you're crying." That mocking voice stabs me, betrayal radiating through my bones. That voice belongs to Chase, I feel like fighting and dying at the same time.

My free hand acts without thought, a loud smack ringing through the tense silence. He seems stunned, but he soon reacts in violence as well, punching my lower abdomen, my body hunching over. He gives me no time to suffer, as he pulls my body back up, holding my face up with one hand and delivering a forceful punch with the other.

I can't remember much after that other than falling to the ground, the last thing I saw was him walking towards me with a sickening grin.

———————

Pain radiates through my body, everything ached, but my pelvis and hips felt like they were  burning. My shoulder stings, and my face felt like I had been beat; my eyes aren't even open, yet I already want to go back to sleep.

It's only when the memories of last night resurface that I jump awake, my body feels like its being torn in half, but I ignore it, instead hastily surveying my surroundings. It's still dark, though how late, I do not know.

It takes me a few more moments to realize that my clothes are strewn across the floor, it's at this moment when the sickening feeling strongly radiating through both my body and mind finally makes sense. The intense need to vomit sweeping over me.

My eyes flood with tears as I hastily put my clothes on, it hurts to move but I really need to get home. I walk to the bus stop, paranoia running rampant within me, I find myself flinching at anything and everything.

I look at the clock in the bus and realize it's 11pm, I was supposed to be home by 8pm at the latest. I look at myself through my phone camera, attempting to fix my hair and clothes so that my father doesn't realize what happened to me; knowing him he would probably just be angry with me.

I shakily exit the bus, just walking hurts so much, but I put on a neutral expression, entering my home slowly. The lights are off, maybe he went to sleep early for once?

Those thoughts of hope are sharply stripped away when the cold light filters through the room.

"Where have you been, young lady?" I lower my head subconsciously, knowing I'm in trouble. I keep myself facing the door, I don't need him seeing my tear-streaked face, he'll probably just shout at me.

"I was just hanging out with my friends." I try to make it sound like I did nothing wrong, but I know it's just making him angrier.

"You were supposed to be home by 8pm, mind telling me what you were doing till 11 at night." His tone is becoming sharper and more demanding, this tone always leads to him yelling at me. That's honestly the last thing I need him to do, but what am I going to say, 'Hey dad, will you please not yell at me?' Yah, he'll probably scream if I say that.

I maintain my silence, hoping he'll just send me to my room.

"I asked you a question." I stay silent, praying that he'll just drop the conversation.

"LOOK AT ME!" His tone is deep with anger, his shout reverberating through the halls. He slammed his hand against the door, right near my head. I jump in surprise, but refuse to look at him out of both fear and self-preservation.

I can feel his glare deepen as he backs away from me, his sigh of frustration letting me know his shouting is done.

"Go to your room, you're grounded for two months." I don't argue, I don't fight, I simply nod my head and shuffle away, trying to hide my limp as I head to my room.

It's only after sitting on my bed for a few minutes that I finally let silent tears fall. Everything I do is wrong, and the one thing I do that makes him happy ended up being the worst decision of my life.

Maybe I should just stop trying.

———————

It's around 4 in the morning, I've been trying to go to sleep, but every time I close my eyes, I think of when he... when he... oh never mind. The memories are fresh and refusing to yield, so I've taken to pacing around my room, just walking back and forth and back and forth, sometimes accidentally running into my bookshelves.

Normally on a night like this I would be tucked away reading my favorite book, but everything I do right now just feels so out of place.

I'm so lost in my thoughts that I didn't even realize that Alfred had knocked on my door and opened it when I didn't respond. I only noticed when his hand lightly touched my shoulder, which caused a massive reaction.

I almost screamed, but it came out more as a fearful whimper; my entire body jumping away, my feet taking a few steps back to gain distance. My eyes are wide and distraught, scared of who would be in my room, but I calm slightly when I realize it's only Alfred.

He looks surprised, well, that's putting it lightly. He looked more shocked at my reaction, almost looking suspiciously at me.

"Please forgive my intrusion Y/N, I simply wanted to check on you. You've been pacing for a while." His voice furthers my ease, but I also feel guilt tightening my chest. I forgot Alfred's room is below mine, I must've been walking loudly, and I guarantee that me running into a bookcase isn't quiet.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to awaken you." Alfred's always been like an uncle to me, he's helped raise me, and he's always supported me in being myself.

"Do you mind telling me about that bruise?" His question startles me, I wasn't expecting that question, mainly because I wasn't aware I had a bruise. My eyes widen, and I quickly rush away into my bathroom, turning on the lights and gazing in horror at the purple splotch that was darkly forming over my left cheekbone.

I can't handle it anymore, I lean back against the wall, covering my eyes with my hands as I cry. I slowly slide down to the floor, bending my legs up and hiding my face against them as I sob.

Alfred walks over to my clearly distraught form, kneeling down and observing me for a few seconds. It didn't take him long to put it together, the bruised face, the red marks on my wrists, my tangled hair, the fact that I had thrown away my clothes from this night and replaced them with clothes that drowned my figure.

He sighs in silent anger, not at me, but at the disgusting person that did this to me.

He slowly pulls me into his side, and I welcome his fatherly response, crying against him as he whispers to me everything will be alright.

———

I don't know how long we stayed like that until I fell asleep, awakening the next morning in bed to see a note from Alfred saying to come to the kitchen for some pain killers and an ice pack, and that we would be having a chat over breakfast.

I'm scared, scared that I'll have to relive the memories of last night, but I'm also thankful. Thankful that someone like Alfred cares about me like how my real father should.