Duckybird101 - 🐾🐈‍⬛📚🐈🐾

Chapter 16 - The Babysitter (Save Me, Save You)

Summary - With the wives officially on lockdown, everyone tries to get by the best that they can. Some better than others, of course.

Chapter warnings - stitches, threats of violence, explicit language, alcohol use, guns.

A/N - this unexpectedly became one of my favorite chapters to write. A couple sweet little moments before shit really hits the fan ❤️

Series Masterlist

Tag list - @celtic-crossbow @rosegoldrosieee @heidiland05 @princesssparkle2024 @spectacular-skywalker @itwasntaphasema @duckybird101 @skulliecadaver-blog

At the sound of your name, you startle awake. Your eyes immediately look to the stack of books on your nightstand, and spot Wild Pursuits: A Comprehensive Exploration of the Arts and Ethics of Hunting safely still on the bottom of the pile. You exhale a breath of relief, before turning to whomever rudely interrupted your sleep. It’s Tanya and Frankie, of course.

“What?” you ask, not very kindly. You had stayed up late last night, trying to scrub the feeling of Negan’s hands off of your skin unsuccessfully before tossing and turning for hours, only falling into a restless sleep when the sun was already creeping up. 

Tanya shushes you while climbing onto your bed. Frankie is behind her, peeking out the bedroom door.

“You’ll never guess who’s on babysitting duty today,” Tanya whispers conspiratorially.

“Who?” you ask, sitting up.

“Come look for yourself,” Frankie shoots from the door. 

Throwing your covers into a giggling Tanya’s face, you quietly pad over to the door, crouching below Frankie to sneak a look into the living room. Through the small crack, you immediately spot him: in the same chair as last time sits Daryl, one arm resting along the top of the chair and the hand of the other cupping his chin, watching. As if sensing you, his eyes flick towards the door, and you quickly fall away, out of his sight.

“Right?!” Tanya chirps, taking your place at the doorway, peering out.

“I wonder what he did to get stuck with us,” Frankie muses. “Doesn’t he have more important things to be doing?”

“It’s probably because of his injury,” you respond, thoughtfully. Both of the women’s heads snap towards you.

“So that’s who you were late-night doctoring!” Tanya nearly squeals. You try to whack her with the back of your hand but she rolls out of your reach. She stands up and grabs Frankie’s arm. “We’re going out there,” she says to you. “Hurry up and get dressed before we take him from you.” Then she pushes Frankie out the door, while you sit there, rolling your eyes at them.

By the time you walk out into the living room - wearing a simple black tee-shirt dress, hair loose and flowing over your shoulders - breakfast had arrived. Apparently Negan didn’t trust the wives to get themselves food anymore, so a platter of eggs, toast, ham, and fruit sat on the bar, accompanied by multiple cups of coffee. Tucking your random book you grabbed from your pile under your arm, you take one of the coffees and shove a piece of toast in your mouth before moving to one of the couches. You curl into one of the corners, conveniently right across from where Daryl was sitting. You don’t look at him, but you can feel his eyes on you. Instead, you open your book and settle in, only half paying attention to the scene around you.

The rest of the wives are helping themselves to the breakfast spread. Frankie and Tanya make their plates and move to sit on either side of Daryl, who accepts their presence with mild disinterest. 

Not to be discouraged, Tanya leans in towards him and asks, “Can I make you a plate, Dixon? There’s more than enough for all of us.”

“No thanks,” Daryl responds politely.

This is how most of the day goes by.

“Dixon, we heard you got hurt. Is there anything we can do to help?”

“‘m alright.”

“Want me to rub your shoulders? I used to be a massage therapist, ya know.”

“No thanks.”

“Hey Dixon, I’m gonna grab a drink, want anything?”

“Nah, ‘m good.” 

You can almost feel Daryl’s discomfort as your sister-wives - the voice inside your head makes a gross barfing sound - throw themselves at him.  You try to hide your smirks behind your paperback, but the low, scoffing sound from across the room tells you that he sees them anyway. 

Probably in an attempt to discourage them, Daryl takes to sharpening one of his hunting knives. He frowns, however, when this only interests them more.

“You must be so good with those, since you take such good care of them.”

“‘m fine, I guess.”

“Can you show me how to do that?”

“Nah.”

“Come ooooon.”

“Don’t think your husband would be happy ‘bout that,”  Daryl says, scowling at them.

When Tanya lets out a loud “hmph!” you can’t hold in your laugh. This draws all three sets of eyes to you, where you sit attempting to read, one hand fiddling with the stitches on your forehead.

“Quit picking at those,” Daryl snaps.

You immediately drop your hand. “Sorry,” you mutter. Frankie and Tanya stare at you, mouths agape. Cheeks burning, you busy yourself in your book again, and they eventually lose interest in you and go back to pestering Daryl. 

By midafternoon, after lunch and several more attempts from Frankie and Tanya to engage him in conversation, another Savior enters the living room, relieving Daryl of babysitting duty. He gives each of you a quick nod before leaving the room. The new Savior - the young kid, Alden - takes up his seat by the door, apparently boring the two wives sitting nearby because they grab their things and move to sit by you instead.

“He’s a tough nut to crack,” Frankie murmurs under her breath, stealing a glance at Alden to make sure he didn’t overhear.

“How did you do it?” Tanya asks breathlessly.

You just shrug. “I didn’t do anything.” This earns you a glare from the two women.

Before they can press you further, Arat appears in the doorway, calling your name.

“Let’s go,” she orders.

“Where are we going?” you ask, rising from your spot on the couch. You can feel Frankie and Tanya exchange a glance around you.

Arat smiles a nasty smile. “Doctor’s appointment,” she says, sneering as you approach her.

“What-“ you start to ask but you don’t get to finish as she grabs your arm and pushes you out the door.

Stumbling once but regaining your footing, you start making your way to Dr. Carson’s old office, trying not to give your escort a reason to shove the barrel of her gun into your back. Along the way, you have to press yourself into the wall to make room for a handful of Saviors carrying crates through the hallway. You try to crane your neck to see what they have, earning you another push from Arat. Glaring, you continue walking towards the doctor’s office, not sure what you were going to find there.

To your utmost surprise, when you reach it, you are met by Dr. Carson. But not the one that you are used to seeing here: inside the small office, unpacking a box of supplies, is Hilltop’s Dr. Carson. A gasp escapes your lips before you can catch it.

At the sound he turns around. “Ah,” he says, putting down the box of bandages in his hand. “My very first patient here.” He leans over, looking past you to Arat. “Thank you, you can leave us.”

“Not a chance,” she spits. “Wives are under watch, Negan’s orders.”

“Not in here, they’re not,” the new Dr. Carson says casually. “Doctor-patient confidentiality, ya know.” When Arat doesn’t move, he continues, “You can wait outside if you must.”

Scoffing, Arat glares at both you and the doctor before stepping out the door and slamming it closed. 

Still bewildered, you just stare at the doctor.

“I know,” he says. “I didn’t expect to see me here either.” He sighs, looking down. “I just found out about my brother today.” 

Realization hits you like a ton of bricks. “I’m so sorry,” you say softly.

But he just waves you off. “It was a matter of time,” he says sadly. “Especially with these people.” An awkward silence falls between the two of you. Breaking it, he claps his hands, declaring, “I hear you have stitches that need removing.”

“How-“ you start to ask but stop yourself. Daryl, you think, smiling. Typical. He must’ve run into the doctor after leaving your room. You nod to Dr. Carson, who motions to the patient table.

You sit on it, and watch as he prepares to take out your stitches, a million questions running through your head. How did you end up here? Is everyone okay? What about Maggie and the baby?

But it turns out that you don’t have to ask any of them. Gloves on, he moves in close, inspecting his brother’s work. When he begins to snip at the stitches, he answers your unspoken questions.

“She’s okay,” he whispers, barely audible. “So is the baby.” He turns, placing the discarded stitch on the tray he had pulled over. “Rick and a few others have visited the Hilltop.” Your eyes widen as he drops another stitch onto the tray. “They’re planning to fight.” 

Relief overwhelms you. Tears prick your eyes, but not wanting to disturb the doctor's work, you let them pour down your cheeks. They’re coming for me, you think to yourself. I’m going to be saved.

‘But what about Daryl?’ the small, forever pestering voice in the back of your mind asks. ‘Will they save him too?’

Yes, you tell the voice. They have to - they know him, they’ll save him from Negan’s grasp too.

‘Will they?’ the voice presses, doubtful.

They will, you continue. If they won’t, then I’ll make them. 

While you were arguing with yourself, Dr. Carson finishes removing your stitches. “All done,” he announces, sitting back to remove his gloves. “You’ll have a little scar, but nothing too bad.” He holds up the small mirror so you can see. Pushing your hair out of the way, you see the cut, now closed up and healing, and it makes you think of the scar Daryl has in his hairline as well. Matching again, you think, smirking.

Looking away from the mirror, you whisper, “Thank you.” Meeting his gaze, you try to show him that you are grateful for more than just the stitches.

“Thank me when we’re out of here,” he replies understandingly, patting your hands before standing up to open the door. Arat leans against the opposite wall, scowling. “She’s all yours,” he tells her. 

Without a word, she nods at you, and you follow her back to your rooms, mind reeling at the thought of your impending rescue. What is the plan? If anything is true about your people’s plans, they always started one way, then shit hits the fan, and then you have to improvise. What can I do to help from the inside? You already know Eugene was not sent here to deliver you a message, asshole that he is. Was someone else going to find their way into the Sanctuary? 

The next few days carry on with little excitement. Daryl’s been assigned to babysitting duty again each day, and Frankie and Tanya continue their quest to gain his favor to no avail. Meals continue to be delivered to the wives quarters, so you all have been confined to your living room or bedroom the whole time. The only exception to this was when Negan would send for one of you each night. You are grateful that he hasn’t called for you since the day he took you outside and then fucked you in the war room.

Daryl was still refusing to let anyone touch him or his wound but you, so you had to check his stitches and change his bandage in the small bathroom just off of your bedroom. You managed to sneak a few kisses but little else, with Frankie and Tanya talking loudly right outside the door, much to your chagrin. 

“They don’t quit, so they?” Daryl had asked while he held you, snuggled into his chest.

“No they don’t,” you answered him, eyes squeezed shut. “You’re like a shiny new toy to them, ever since you took me as your ‘reward.’ They’re hoping you’ll take one of them next.”

“Oh really?” he replied, chuckling. “Should I?”

You had pulled away, glared at him and said “I’ll kill you AND them,” which only made him laugh more. “I’m armed now, remember?”

“Yeah yeah,” he said, smirking, before pulling you back in for another kiss.

Were you being smart, carrying on like this with those two nosey women right outside the door? Not at all. But you craved Daryl like he was the air your lungs needed, and you couldn’t give up the opportunity to be with him, no matter how short or risky it was. 

Daryl wasn’t the best at expressing himself with words, but he had his ways of showing you how much he needed you too. His gaze frequently fell upon you, eyes flickering to wherever you stood over the shoulders of whomever was speaking to him. His hands found you, trailing up your side whenever you passed and taking up residence on your waist when he stood beside you at the makeshift bar. In your small moments of solitude, he held his forehead to yours, as if trying to press all of his unspoken words and feelings into your mind. You quickly learned the language of his eyes and his varying grunts. The stoic man was surprisingly easy to read, if one simply paid attention. And the more you did, the more of him you needed.

By the third evening of lockdown, everyone in the wives’ quarters was growing restless, even the Saviors stuck babysitting. Gary, the hotheaded, trigger happy one, was so pissed about being stuck in there that he got shitfaced at the bar, eventually falling off of his barstool. Negan was furious, and had him dragged out by his feet, and poor Alden had to take over for him again. Alden was young and a little naive, and the other wives quickly took advantage of that fact.

“Where are you going?” he asks Frankie and Tanya, who are making a beeline for the door.

“To Eugene’s room,” Tanya replies, unconcerned.

“But you are all supposed to be under supervision,” Alden tries to argue back in a small voice. The exchange has captured the attention of all in the room. You watch from your spot at the bar, as Lauren and Dawn peer over their magazines at the young Savior.

“That’s what Eugene is for,” Frankie shoots back, rolling her eyes.

“But Negan-” he starts but she doesn’t let him finish.

“Who do you think ordered us to go?”

“I- uh.”

“You wanna ask him yourself?” Frankie challenges him, staring him down. 

Alden flinches under her cool gaze. 

Smirking, Frankie takes Tanya’s arm and they leave the room.

You watch Alden slump back into his seat, appearing crestfallen. You quickly find the least repulsive whiskey behind the bar, pour a generous amount into a glass and bring it over to the kid. You hold it out to him, and he looks up at you with wide eyes before taking it.

“Don’t take any of that personally,” you tell him. “They’re like that to everyone.”

“Thanks,” Alden replies gloomily. He takes a sip of the drink, grimacing. You look at him apologetically before returning to the bar. Atop it sat a glass of wine for yourself and your journal, which you regrettably have not spent much time writing in since your arrival here at the Sanctuary. You were working on a detailed account of your time here and everything that you’ve learned about Negan and the Saviors, in case it came in handy later on. You did, however, leave out the specifics of your relationship with Daryl, lest it fell into the wrong hands.

Sitting at your seat, scribbling away, you don’t notice the door to the living room open again until you hear voices and your name in that oh-so-familiar Southern drawl. Closing your journal, you turn to find Daryl talking to Alden near the entrance to the room. Your heart skips in your chest, but quickly falls when you hear their exchange.

“Negan wants ‘er,” Daryl is explaining to the younger Savior, who can barely meet his eye. He just nods.

Daryl looks over to you, where you stand clutching the bar with white knuckles. He nods, indicating for you to follow, and you have to use your other hand to pry your fingers off of the cracked wooden surface. 

Chest tightening, you follow him out into the hallway. You stay a few paces behind him, trying to calm the terror burning in your lungs, making it difficult to breathe. A wheeze squeezes out of you, drawing Daryl’s attention and he’s on you, hands gripping each of your upper arms, cerulean blue eyes boring into your own wide ones.

“Breathe, princess,” he murmurs softly. He helps you to take a few strangled breaths, eyes never leaving your own. 

“What does he want with me?” you manage to choke out, swallowing your panic the best you can.

To your surprise, Daryl smirks. “Nothing,” he replies. Then he breaks into a very big, very rare smile. “I lied.”

You open your mouth to ask what he means, but Daryl takes your hand in his large one and hurries you along. The two of you nearly jog to the familiar stairwell where you used to look for him, and he pulls you up the steps to the top landing. He quickly unlocks the door, and the cool air engulfs you like an old friend.

Stepping out into the night, you take a deep breath of what feels like the freshest air you’ve ever breathed. You close your eyes to take in as much of it as you can. Days of being locked in your tiny apartment had felt like being suffocated, but being up here felt like learning how to breathe all over again. Your chest immediately loosens, welcoming the crisp cold air. Spinning around in it, your eyes fall on Daryl, leaning against a low wall, watching you with a small smile on his face.

“Thank you,” you say gratefully.

“Fer what? I haven’t even shown ya the surprise yet,” he replies with a sparkle in his eye.

You gasp. “A surprise?!”

“C’mere,” he says, reaching out a hand that you excitedly take. He leads you further down the roof, away from the door. When he steps aside, you find it: in the middle of the roof, strung up between two large vents, is a hammock. 

You look up at him, speechless. His cheeks burn pink, and he scratches the back of his neck, looking away. “I know it’s not much, but-”

“It’s perfect!” you shriek, jumping up to kiss him on the cheek before running towards it. You sit on one end, your weight pulling it down a bit as you slip out of your shoes, then lay back, letting it level out. Above you, there’s no sign of the building that has become your prison; all you can see is the tops of the nearby trees and the endless starry sky. 

Sighing with delight, you look back at Daryl, watching you as always.

“Come on,” you call to him. “There’s plenty of room for two up here.”

Hesitantly, Daryl walks towards the hammock, and you shimmy over towards the far side to give him room to sit. Keeping his boots on, he turns and lays beside you, rocking the hammock, causing you to roll into his side. Instead of shying away like he would have a week ago, he reaches an arm across for you to lay on, and you curl into him.

Together, the two of you lay there, looking up at the clear night sky. A gentle breeze causes the hammock to sway like a baby’s cradle. The only sounds are the rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of birds. No walker growls, no gunfire, no stress. You wish you could bottle this feeling up and take it with you, opening it in your most dire times of need. But instead you just sigh.

“You alright?” Daryl asks, his low voice vibrating against you.

“Yeah,” you answer lazily.

“What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing really, just enjoying the moment,” you say with another sigh. 

Relaxed and wrapped around Daryl, you can’t help but picture what life could’ve been like all these months if he had returned to the prison when he meant to: sitting around campfires, laughing with friends; looking after the children together; going out on runs, knowing someone always had your back; ending each long day, exhausted but happy, in each other’s arms. The fantasy squeezes your heart tight and makes your eyes water.

“You think you would’ve liked me back at the prison?” you ask him suddenly.

Daryl, of course, just scoffs. “Nah,” he says, and you can hear the smirk in his voice, “I barely like you now.”

“Hey!” you protest, leaning up on your elbows. You go to poke him and chastise him, but he catches your hand and uses it to pull you in close. Landing on his chest, lips just inches from his, your breath hitches. Daryl’s hand snakes up to cup your face before pulling you in for a deep, languid kiss. You feel him smile against your lips, and your heart flutters in your chest.

When you pull away, Daryl’s still holding your face, rubbing a thumb along your cheekbone.

“I just want you to be happy here,” he says, barely above a whisper.

It feels like a shot to the chest. How can I possibly be happy here? you ask yourself. Your thoughts trail back to Dr. Carson’s words from the other day, about Rick and your people meeting with the Hilltop to plan how to fight back. You remember your determination to bring Daryl with you when you were rescued. How can you tell him any of this, when he’s making distinct efforts like this, with the intention of making you want to stay? I can’t tell him any of this, you think, swallowing hard.

Instead of answering aloud, you kiss Daryl again, long and slow, before snuggling back into him, head on his chest. A man of few words himself, he accepts this and pulls you in closer. 

The two of you stay this way for a while, until Daryl startles and snaps his fingers. “I almost forgot,” he says, reaching a hand into the pocket of his worn out jeans. He pulls out a keyring with a single key dangling from it. “Fer you,” he holds it out to you. “So you can come up here whenever ya want.” 

You take the key, holding it tightly to your heart. “Thank you,” you say for what feels like the millionth time with him. You lean up to kiss him again.

Suddenly, machine gun fire rips through the air. Daryl jumps up so quickly that it causes the hammock to flip, spilling you out onto the ground.

“What was that?” you yell, rubbing your freshly skinned elbow.

“I don’t know,” Daryl replies, running towards the edge of the rooftop to look over. You jam your feet back into your heels, and run to his side. Looking over, you don’t see anything. You strain your ears to hear, and the next time you hear the gunfire, the sound comes from behind you.

“It’s coming from inside,” you whisper, fear lacing your voice.

“C’mon,” Daryl grunts, grasping your hand as he breaks into a run for the door. You quickly stash the keyring in your bra as you try to keep up. 

Daryl flings the door open and leads you inside, not bothering to lock it again. The two of you rush down the stairs when he stops you, pushing you behind him while he looks out into the hall. Deciding it’s clear, he pulls you along behind him, one hand on you, the other unsheathing one of his knives. You swallow hard, wishing you had your knife on you, feeling stupid for being unarmed. 

When you and Daryl take another turn, you come across multiple Saviors running the opposite direction, armed to the teeth. Daryl grabs one of them by the back of his shirt.

“What’s going on?” he demands.

Eyes wide in fear, the Savior shouts three words you didn’t expect to hear: “We’re under attack!”

High Infidelity Masterlist

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Complete

Rating: Mature Explicit

Summary: When Tommy lands himself in prison, you and Joel fall into familiar, dangerous rhythms.

Tags: Tommy x Reader, Joel x Reader, Tommy's Wife Reader, infidelity, emotional affair, slow burn (as much as you can get for 5 chapters), Tommy goes to jail, Reader has had a child

Warnings: cheating, affair, smut/explicit content, fluff, the shitty judicial system, prison,

Part I

Part II

Part III

Part IV

Part V

LMK if you'd like to be on the tag list!

Thanks to @saradika-graphics for the dividers!

Home Again.

Based on a request by vikingsxf 

‘‘When the youngest Shelby sister goes missing as a child, the family are distraught. Twenty years later a young woman shows up at the police station claiming to be her’‘

This is the longest one shot ever (4000 words) but I couldn’t stop once I started writing! It was really fun to write for the Shelby’s mother (How I imagine her anyways) 

Elsie Shelby (I always imagine Carla Gugino as their mother)

Amelia Shelby

14th November 1923

The family had not spoken a word of her in twenty years. Not that they did not want too of course, but the memories were so painful that even her name could not be muttered without everyone exploding into tears and distress.

‘’What do you mean, they’ve found her, talk to me Thomas’’ Polly had demanded, snatching the whiskey out of her nephews’ hand.  ‘’She’s alive, Pol, at least that’s what Moss thinks’’ Tommy replied, sulking into the back of his chair, the news stirring up emotions he had not felt since before the war. ‘’Well, why aren’t we down there then, bringing her home, this is ridiculous Tommy’’ Polly rambled on, losing her train of thought.

‘’There are procedures Pol, I’ll be allowed to see her this afternoon, we don’t even know if its her, it could be anyone wanting to come into the family now we’ve got money on our side’’ Tommy sighed. He wanted to believe it, Tommy wanted to believe more than anybody that the girl sitting in Birmingham Central Police Station was his sister, but what if she wasn’t? Could he handle the screaming tears from Ada again, the silent pain from John who never said a word, the fits of anger from Arthur, and Finn, who was not even born when she disappeared, who wouldn’t begin to understand.

‘’She had a birthmark, on her left ankle, it was an almost butterfly shape, I told her it was a gift given to all Romani princesses’’ Polly’s eyes began to well up as she began to remember her baby niece. ‘’That’s how you’ll know its her, I’ll tell the others, but not until you give me the call you’re bringing her home’’ Polly nodded, reassuring herself.

Twenty years earlier, 11th December, 1903.

‘’Daddy, please can I go with you?’’ Three-year-old Amelia pleaded, tugging onto her father’s shirt. It was always hard to say no to Amelia, her raven haired curls, and her bright blue eyes made her look like a real life cherub, and even Arthur Snr, to who fatherhood did not come naturally, found it hard to resist the charms of his little girl.

‘’Why’d you wanna go to the Pub with Dad, aye, when you can stay home and play Whist with us’’ 14-year-old Arthur smirked, ruffling his baby sister’s hair. ‘’Tommy doesn’t let me win’’ Amelia sighed, pulling the meanest face she had at her brother opposite. ‘’If I always let her win, she’ll never learn to play properly’’ 12-year-old Tommy shrugged, returning to the game.

‘’I could do your hair, Mila’’ 9-year-old Ada suggested, removing the ribbon out of hers and placing it on the table. ‘’No, way, I looked bad last time’’ Amelia groaned, receiving a stifled laugh from 10-year-old John and an embarrassed look from Ada. ‘’Look, I’ll take her with me, you lot get cleaned and washed up by the time your mothers’ home from work, Arthur, you’re in charge’’ Arthur Snr patted his eldest on the head, before pulling his youngest onto his hip and heading out the door.

Amelia was beloved in the Garrison. When everyone found out that Arthur and Elsie were expecting their fifth child, everyone had put bets on a boy. The Shelby family was ruled by boys and even Polly was sure that Ada was destined to be the only girl, and in a sad way, Polly as always, had been right. He was to be Paul Shelby, or Harry Shelby, Elsie had not decided yet, and she was constantly worried about how she would manage to keep her four wild boys in check.

But to her surprise, on that brisk morning on February 14th, a little baby girl arrived, a sister for Ada. With no name to match her beautiful features, it had been Ada that had the final decision. ‘’Call her Amelia, like the princess in my book, Amelia Rosanna Shelby’’ Ada had smiled proud, placing a kiss on the top of her sisters’ head.

‘’I’m going to take a piss, you stay here on this stool and don’t move, you hear me’’ Arthur Snr sighed, staggering away from his small daughter who was perched on the bar stool with her doll.

‘’Where the fuck has Mila gone?’’ Arthur Snr sighed, as he made his way back to the bar, Amelia was no longer on the stool. ‘’I’ve not seen her, Art’’ Graham, the bartender questioned, cleaning up the glasses. ‘’I bet you she’s gotten bored and run back home, these fucking kids Graham, they rule the fucking roost, the lot of them’’ Arthur Snr groaned, slamming his penny on the bar for another pint.

It was only 6 hours later, when Arthur Snr staggered home that the family realised the severity of the situation. ‘’Where’s Mila?’’ Elsie asked, tidying up a basket of toys from the days activities ‘’Its past her bedtime you know’’ she smiled, leaning back up to meet her husbands confused face.

‘’She came home, she ran back home, she was bored’’ Arthur Snr asked, his head pounding from the drink. ‘’No, she didn’t, she didn’t come back home’’ Elsie began to panic, her hands slowly starting to shake. ‘’She didn’t come home Arthur, she’s not here, when did you last see her?’’

Elsie cried, in a full-on panic attack. ‘’Six hours, I saw her six hours ago’’ Arthur too began to panic, receiving punches to the chest from his wife. ‘’You fucking bastard, if anything has happened to her, I’ll fucking kill you’’ Elsie screamed, wailing and waking up every neighbour on the street.

’Mum’’ Tommy cried, as the siblings gathered on the stairs.  ‘’Ada, John, back to bed. Tommy, Arthur, I need you to go round all the neighbours, knock on every door, Amelia is missing’’ Elsie cried, grabbing the phone and calling the police.

There was not any news. There were no tips or information from the police, neighbours claimed to know nothing and soon carried on with business as usual. The missing posters that had been stuck with love on the posts around Small Heath were starting to fade out and the impact on the family had been detrimental.

Arthur Snr was hardly ever home, and if he was, he was either drunk or high. He could not stand the angry and heartbroken looks from his family still after all this time, and he hated himself a lot more than they could ever hate him. Elsie had tried to carry on as best she could, with help from Polly, but with each day, month and year that went by was a bitter reminder that her little girl would never come home.

Arthur was angry all the time, punching the walls of his bedroom, the bathroom door, anything that would fall with the weight under him. Tommy threw himself into the business, essentially replacing his father so they could at least keep the roof above their head. John never spoke anymore unless spoken too, and his laughter no longer filled the back room of the house.

And Ada, the one with so much belief and faith. She told everyone about her sister, anyone that would listen. One day her sister would come home again, and all she had to do was wait, keep their room tidy, say her prayers and God would return her baby sister, she was sure of it.

‘’I can’t have this baby, Polly, I just can’t’’ Elsie sighed, her head in her hands. It felt like betrayal. Mila would be 11 by now, and in the 8 years that had passed since she had gone, Elsie had not once considered another baby. ‘’Trust me, babies bring joy, they can repair families, spread love’’ Polly had reassured Elsie, rubbing a hand on her back.

Finn had brought so much joy. The perfect baby boy was so sweet and gentle, with the trademark Shelby frosty blue eyes and dark hair but his parents were lost. Elsie was struggling to feed him most days and would hand him over to Polly, her depression seeping through her like a wave of knives, piercing at her very being. As much as Elsie adored Finn, she was so scared of someone taking him from her that she felt she would never be able to love him properly. Arthur Snr had only ever held him once in the six months he had been alive, not trusting himself with the youngest again.

It had been a cold winters night when Elsie was dragged from the canal. Her body soaked, her white dress clinging to her body and her dark black hair falling to her waist. Charlie had desperately tried to resuscitate her but it had been too late. Suicide was not painless, and Polly had known then that she had to step up and take care of the children in Elsie’s place, that’s what Elsie would have wanted.

14th November 1923

‘’She’s in the back room Mr Shelby, but before you go in there, you need to know, she hardly speaks’’ Moss informed, Tommy following him down a long hallway that seemed to go on forever. As Tommy stopped at the final door, he noticed a slight murmur in his hand.

There she was. The dark-haired young woman was sat with her face turned away from him, her figure long and slender. As she turned to look at the opening door, Tommy was taken aback as her frosty blue eyes met his. He would check her ankle of course he would, for Polly’s piece of mind more than anyone’s, but he would recognise her eyes anywhere; they were his mothers.

‘’Lucy, someone is here to see you’’ Moss asked gently, not wanting to disturb the young woman who had just slept for the first time in the three days since she’d been at the station. She looked up at Tommy with a confusing look on her face which caused Tommy to feel a slight pain in his chest. He was her brother, he was her kin, but right now he had to remember that they were strangers meeting for the first time. ‘’This is Tommy Shelby, if your letter is correct, he’s your brother’’ Moss answered before she had even asked, noting the look on her face.

‘’Lucy, I know you’re scared, and confused, and so am I, I’m not going to hurt you, I just want to talk to you, okay?’’ Tommy smiled, leaning down to her level and reaching his hand out to her which she refused to take. ‘’I haven’t read the letter yet, I don’t know what it says but, I’m your brother, we are family, and we stick together. I’d like you to come and stay with us, if you want too, so we can help you get better’’ Tommy sighed, feeling overwhelmed.

The young girl just nodded with a slight smile at him. As Moss prepared to take Tommy to his office, Tommy got a glimpse of the girl’s ankle as she hopped off the bed to get changed: the butterfly, the Romani princess, his baby sister.

‘’We were called to a domestic incident at 4am, three days ago. It was a house outside Birmingham, more Coventry side. By the time we reached the home, the woman was there on her own. She refused to say what had happened but we brought her in anyways, as she was covered in cuts and bruises, and had blood on her. She had a bag of belongings on her, and in there was a letter, addressed to ‘Elsie and Arthur Shelby’. It hadn’t been opened, but we decided it was in her best welfare to open it. She said her name was Lucy, aged 23 and her birthday is February 14th’’ Moss informed, Tommy not taking his eyes off the letter in Moss’s hands.

‘’What does the letter say, Moss?’’ Tommy asked, attempting to remain calm and not get angry. ‘’It’s a letter of regret, your sister was taken on that day in 1903 by a married couple, Jean and Graham Barton. They were childless, and had recently lost a stillborn son. Graham was a bartender at the Garrison at the time. He knew your father had trouble with alcohol, and he was convinced that they could give Lucy….Amelia, a better life. They moved to Coventry afterwards which is where she grew up, according to the letter she had a good life, Tom. Jean and Graham died in a car accident when she was 15, and after that she was sent to live with an uncle, Peter’’ Moss finished, being startled by Tommy smashing his fist down onto the table.

‘’She’s coming home, Pol, we’ll be home in half an hour. I’m just waiting for her to get her things. She was ten fucking miles away the whole time Pol, ten fucking miles and we never knew, that fucking bartender, the one from the Garrison, the one that helped us search fields and empty fucking barns, he had her the whole fucking time’’ Tommy shouted into the phone trying to remain calm for his sister but wanting to murder anyone that came into his path.

The young woman had been quiet the whole journey home, looking out the window but at the same time trying to pay attention to the information Tommy was giving her. Lucy tried to feel comfortable with Tom, but as much as she tried to squeeze her mind back to being younger, she couldn’t remember him completely. She couldn’t remember any of them, and the bruises on her head weren’t helping the situation either.

‘’Right, your sister is going to feel overwhelmed, she just found out about all of us, so try not to bombard her’’ Polly asked, as the siblings gathered excitedly round the table. ‘’What’s her name again?’’ Finn questioned, stealing a biscuit off the table. ‘’Mum called her Amelia, but her name’s Lucy, so for now we have to call her that, okay’’ Ada smiled, ruffling her brothers hair.

As the front door shut, the siblings sat up at the dining table as straight as ever. As Tommy entered the room first, everyone peeked round him to see the slender brunette behind. Tommy had been right all along, with her long black hair and beautiful eyes, she looked just like Elsie.

‘’Lucy, I’m your Aunt Polly, I help with the business here’’ Polly smiled, reaching out and hugging the young woman who froze in her grasp. ‘’I’m Ada, your sister, big sister’’ Ada joined the hug. Arthur and John just sat there in disbelief. Arthur’s eyes had begun to well up, as John shared a smile with Tommy that said it wouldn’t be easy but thank god she’s home.

‘’I’m Arthur, I’m the eldest, your eldest brother’’ Arthur asked to hug her and she half smiled, letting him close. Planting a kiss on the top of her head, Lucy looked towards the table at the other two. ‘’John, I’m another one of your brothers, John’’ John smiled, ruffling her hair receiving a stern look from Tommy. ‘’Sorry, you used to like that when, when you, I mean when we were little’’.

‘’and this, this is the baby of the family, this is Finn, he’s 11, 12 on Sunday’’ Ada smiled, as Finn got up and shook the young woman’s hand. ‘’Lucy, you’re probably tired, let me show you to your room’’ Tommy smiled, nodding to the rest of the family as she followed him up the stairs.

‘’Ada likes to think of herself a fashion designer these days, so she’s filled the wardrobe of clothes you might like’’ Tommy smiled, looking around the room he hadn’t let himself stand in for nearly fifteen years. Although now modernised, the room had always belonged to Amelia. ‘’If there’s something in there for you to wear, Ada said she’d take you down to Browns on the high street and find you some shoes to match later’’ Tommy asked, not knowing really too much about women’s business. ‘’I’d like that’’ the young woman smiled at Tommy as he left the room, the first time he heard her speak.

‘’When do you think they’ll be back’’ Polly had paced, walking up and down the betting shop. ‘’Pol, I know its easy to think of Amelia…Lucy as collateral, but she’s a grown woman and we don’t want to scare her away her first day’’ Tommy sighed, reaching a cigarette out his pocket.

‘’Where do you think them bruises came from Tom, what the fuck did they do to her, the girl doesn’t speak?’’ Polly sighed, sipping down her whiskey as quick as she could to contain her nerves. ‘’I don’t know, but I’m sure, she’ll tell us in time’’ Tommy tried to remain calm, the last thing he wanted to do would be to lose his rag and his sister again forever.

‘’She’s beautiful Tom, that’s why I’m not telling anyone else at the shop about her, they’ll be like fucking piranhas’’ Arthur sighed, dragging his cigar out his mouth. ‘’Yeah, well, if anyone touches my sister, I’ll fucking cut em’’ John smirked, receiving a look from Arthur in agreement.

The hammering at the door was like no other, it was so loud that it even made Tommy reach for his gun. ‘’I’ll go’’ Tommy whispered, going to the door and opening it quickly gun in hand. Expecting to see an enemy, a drunken better or someone up for a fight, Tommy was surprised to see a young woman standing there. ‘’Sorry, I’m here to see Lucy, is she here?’’ The young woman asked, a panicked look on her face.

‘’and what’s it to you?’’ Polly entered the room, her motherly instinct wanting to battle anyone that came near her niece. ‘’I’m her best friend, Kate, she left a message at my house, but I was out of town, I asked around and was told she was here’’ Kate pleaded, looking behind Tommy to see if she could spot her friend. ‘’You’re her family, her biological one, right?’’ Kate asked, a half smile appearing on her face. ‘’You better come in’’ Polly sighed, hushing the woman in and slamming the door behind her.

‘’Lucy doesn’t speak, she has only spoken one word since she arrived, you are going to tell us what happened to her, we’re her family, we need to know’’ Polly demanded, giving the young woman a look of warning. ‘’I don’t know if I should say…’’ Kate replied, looking at Tommy for reassurance. ‘’Kate, that girl is our sister, we love her, we’ve only just got her back, so whatever you know, please just fucking tell us’’ Tommy pleaded, rolling a cigarette between his lips.

‘’We grew up together, our houses were next door. We’d play out all the time out by the horses and the stream. Lucy was always a handful though, getting herself into trouble, fighting and staying out all hours, she used to drive Jean and Graham mad’’ Kate laughed, receiving a smile from the boys and Polly, even away from home, Amelia had been a true Romani princess, a Shelby. ‘’It was about a month before they died, Lucy had come home late and her and Graham were arguing, that’s when he said she was poisoned with gypsy blood, she didn’t know what he meant at the time, but it stuck with her, you know, days before their death he told her, he told her who she was’’ Kate took a sip of the tea Polly gave her ‘’then she went to live with Peter, her uncle, and I barely saw her for a few years, he was abusive, would lock her in his room, starve her, beat her, but she would always fight back, no matter what he did, she’d give as good as she got. Quite a few times, she’d tried to run away, to find her real family, but he’d stop her, change his ways, tell her he loved her, he was sick in the head, twisted, but she had nobody else in the world, I’d tried to call the police, but Lucy wouldn’t admit to any of it’’ Kate began to well-up, her hand squeezed by Polly for reassurance.

Tommy felt physically sick. His hands shaking at the thought of his baby sister, living that life with that monster, so close to his doorstep. ‘’Where the fuck is he now, what did Moss say Tom, I’ll fucking drown him in the cut without his eyes’’ Arthur screeched punching the wall.

They were interrupted by Ada and Amelia returning from their shopping. As the girls entered the doorway, it was a relief to see her smile as she entered with her new clothes. Tommy would ensure that she had everything she ever wanted because that’s what big brothers do. ‘’Lucy, oh thank god’’ Kate jumped up strangling her friend in a tight hug. Shell shocked, Amelia stood not moving at all.

‘’What are you doing here?’’ Amelia finally spoke, looking around at her family and then her friend. ‘’I told them, I’m sorry, I’ve told them what happened, I was worried about you’’ Kate pleaded, her friend pushing her away. ‘’You’ve told them everything?’’ Amelia asked, falling into a flood of tears that could’ve drowned the whole house.

‘’Mila, Mila’’ Tommy pulled her into his arms instinctively, forgetting completely about her new name. ‘’We’re your family, we love you, and nobody in this world is ever going to fucking hurt you again, do you understand that?’’ Tommy sighed, lifting her head to look at him. ‘’Under my protection, no fucker will ever hurt you again, that man that hurt you, we’re going to kill him, he will die for what he’s done, I promise’’ Tommy kissed the top of her head, his hands still shaking with anger.

‘’You can’t kill him, I already did’’ Amelia sighed, falling into her chair. ‘’I didn’t want you to think I was a monster, an evil person for killing him’’ she asked, looking up at her family. Polly laughed, almost causing everyone to turn in shock. ‘’Oh my girl, when you learn what this family do, who we are, you too, are going to laugh for asking that question’’ Polly smiled, placing her hand on her nieces head.

‘’Look at me, we could never hate you, we could never hate a hair on your head’’ Arthur cried, kneeling to face her. ‘’You’re a Shelby, we work together, tell us where the body is, and John and Arthur will move it, we’ll dump the bastard where he belongs and forget his name’’ Tommy sighed, lighting himself a cigarette feeling emotionally exhausted yet extremely proud of his sister.

‘’Then we start a new, all of us, you stay here and we keep you safe’’ Ada smiled, brushing her fingers through her sisters hair like she used too. ‘’What about the police, I managed to drag him to the back barn before the police arrived, they never looked there’’ Amelia asked, panic setting in again.

‘’The police are on my payroll, I’ll deal with them. How about you go up and get some rest, Polly will run you a bath and Ada here will drive your friend Kate home. Arthur and John will head to the house to clean up’’ Tommy ordered, everyone beginning to move.

The house had been quiet since everyone had dispersed and Tommy had been given the call to say that the body had been destroyed. It would take a lot of healing to get his sister back to her best but Tommy was sure that she would get there- she was a Shelby after all.

‘’Can I come in, Lucy?’’ Tommy knocked on Amelia’s door but didn’t want to intrude. Ada had long moved out and Tommy would have to get used to having a younger sister again. ‘’Of course, sure’’ Amelia replied, brushing through her hair at her vanity.

‘’I know it’s going to take a while, and you don’t remember much, but I thought tomorrow we could discuss some old memories at dinner’’ Tommy asked, perching himself on her bed and looking around her room. ‘’Finn, he doesn’t remember mum and dad much either, so thought we could talk about them’’.

‘’I’d like that, but I do remember some things you know’’ She smiled, turning to face her brother. She really was so beautiful, and Tommy knew he would be in for trouble when the men of Small Heath began noticing her. ‘’You’d never let me win at Whist would you’’ Amelia sighed, pulling a similar face to the one she had when she was three. Tommy smiled, a small laugh leaving his throat, ‘’No, I always said you had to learn, games have rules and all that’’. ‘’I remember mum, she’d sing to us while cooking, she’d sing in Romani and it was so beautiful’’ Amelia welled up, a smile on her face.

‘’Mum loved you so much, she loved all of us and she never forgave herself for losing you’’ Tommy sighed, not wanting to get in too deep with his sister. ‘’I promised her, if you ever came back, I’d take care of you and I mean It Lucy’’ Tommy sighed, picking up a new lipstick she’d bought on her vanity. ‘’Even if that means I spend a cashbox a month on new lipsticks’’ he laughed, setting it back down and heading for her door.

‘’Tom’’ she asked, as he turned to look at her, ‘’call me Amelia’’ she smiled. For the first time in twenty years, with a house full of his five wild siblings, perhaps even Tommy Shelby’s broken heart could be healed.

Serve & Protect

Summary: You moved to the small quiet town of Hawkins after transferring from the NYPD and reunite with your old partner, Jim Hopper. However, Hawkins isn't as quiet as it seems, and your past follows you there.

Pairing: Jim Hopper x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Major Trigger Warning- SA. This chapter is very heavy, but nothing is described in a lot of detail. Also hints towards past SA. If any of this triggers you please don't read this chapter. Look after yourself first.

Previous Chapter

Chapter 10- Ambush

"Pizza is here!" You shouted, walking through the front door of the cabin.

Those three words were like a trigger because a second later, El's bedroom door opened, and the two young girls rushed out before you could even put the boxes on the table.

"It smells amazing!" Max exclaimed, helping you open the boxes while El grabbed four dinner plates from the cupboard.

"Thank you, Y/N." El said, already stacking slices of each different pizzas onto her plate.

You forced a smile watching her and Max load their plates while you unrolled the garlic bread hating how much your hands were shaking at the simple task.

Your heart was still hammering against your ribcage after seeing Hank at your front door.

He was at your house. He was waiting for you to come home. He was there. It was him.

All this time, there was a small part of you that had thought that this whole thing was just in your head, and you were jumping to conclusions. But it was real, and he had followed you to Hawkins.

"Are you okay?" El's gentle voice suddenly asked.

You blinked at her words too caught up in your own head to properly hear her just as she carefully took the garlic bread from your trembling hands and handed it to Max to give you her full attention.

"Did something happen?" El asked, holding your now empty but still trembling hands.

Max hovered close behind, her blue eyes looking you up and down for any injuries like claw marks from Demo-dogs like the last time she had seen you. If only it had been a Demo-dog at your house. You would rather deal with one of those monsters than this human monster.

You opened your mouth to dismiss the girls worries even though El could probably feel your emotions anyway or something. You weren't entirely sure of the extent of her powers, was that something she could do?

"What's going on?" Hopper's voice suddenly called out from across the room.

He stepped out of his bedroom with his hair dripping wet from the shower. He was no longer in his uniform instead wearing a pair of sweatpants and a flannel shirt that had no right being so attractive.

"I am unsure." El answered honestly, her brows furrowed as she stared up at you. "Something happened."

That seemed to catch Hopper's attention because he was by your side within a blink of an eye.

"Y/N?"

You met his gaze with an uneasy expression not exactly trusting your voice at the moment to speak.

Jesus Christ, you thought you had gotten better since moving here. You thought you had moved on from Hank and all the shit he had put you through but one look at him from a distance through your car windshield and you were right back to square one.

Realisation slowly washed over Hopper, "you saw him, didn't you?"

It wasn't a question. He already knew the answer, but you nodded anyway, and his jaw clenched shut in sudden fury.

"Saw who?" El asked in confusion.

"Girls eat the pizza in your room. I need to talk to Y/N privately." Hopper instructed his voice coming out calm, but you could tell he was anything but calm on the inside.

El hesitated in front of you for a moment not wanting to leave when she could tell you were in distress, but reluctantly nodded before collecting her plate of pizza and following Max back into the bedroom.

The second her bedroom door clicked shut, Hopper grabbed your hand and led you over to the couch without a word. You allowed yourself to be pulled not arguing as he gently eased you down to the couch which was probably a good idea because your legs were shaking too. In fact, your entire body was shaking, and you couldn't stop it.

Nothing even happened. Why was your body reacting this way?

"Did he hurt you?" Hopper asked, kneeling on the floor in front of you.

You shook your head and Hoppers body seemed to relax a little with that information and he gently placed his hand on top of your bouncing knee causing you to flinch at the unexpected touch.

He quickly removed his hand and looked up at you with an unreadable expression. His brows furrowed a little at your reaction to his touch, but he didn't comment on it.

"Sorry." You apologised, although you weren't entirely sure what you were apologising for. For flinching at his touch? For being so worked up? For being a burden? For making him concentrate on you instead of eating pizza? For all of it? None of it? You had no idea.

"Can you tell me what happened?" Hopper asked after a few moments of silence.

"I was- I was going to go home and get some clean clothes but... he was there. He was at my house."

"What?" Hopper questioned his eyes widening.

"He was at my front door. He was just standing there like he was waiting for me to come home or something." You elaborated glancing over at Hopper who looked ready to drive out there and kill Hank. "He took off as soon as he saw your work car. Guess he thought I was you when I pulled up."

"Did he have a car?" Hopper asked slipping straight into detective mode, but you shook your head. "What was he wearing? Any distinctive pieces of clothing? Footwear?"

"It was too dark to see. I saw a glimpse of his face in my headlights before he ran off. That's it."

Tears started to burn in the back of your eyes as you thought back to that moment only 10 minutes ago. Hank was in Hawkins. He was really here, and he was waiting for you to come home in the dark.

Fuck.

What if he had been hiding and you didn't notice him until you got out the car? What would he have done?

Nope. Don't start thinking about that. No.

"Shit." You hissed softly under your breath while hastily wiping at the tears had escaped down your cheeks without permission.

Seriously why were you reacting like this? It wasn't like anything happened. He had run away. He was gone for now. You were safe and with Hopper. Why were you reacting like this?

"Y/N." Hopper said gently, bringing you out of your thoughts as you looked over at him.

He was still kneeling in front of you watching your every move and reaction carefully. He must have come to some kind of conclusion that he didn't like, and you had a sinking feeling that you knew what he was about to ask.

"You told me that you got a restraining order against him. You said that he was harassing you at work and stalking you off duty, yeah?" He asked and you sniffed with a small nod. "Okay. Can you tell me what else he did?"

His voice was so gentle, so soft. He was... holy shit, he was using his victim's voice. You had been with him during enough interviews and statements to recognise that gentle sympathetic voice he would use on alleged victims... you just never thought he would ever have to use the voice on you.

"I already told you everything." You answered, averting your gaze because even you couldn't believe your own words.

Hopper didn't need to know every single detail. He was your boss and your best friend, but he didn't need to know... you didn't want him to know.

"Y/N..." Hopper trailed off unsure how to finish that sentence.

"It's your day off tomorrow, right?" You asked, abruptly changing the topic.

"Uh, yeah, but wait-"

"Can you swing by the station during my lunch break and come to my house with me? I need to get some new clothes but don't want to go there alone." You admitted, lifting your head to meet Hoppers worried blue eyes.

"Of course. I'll pick you up at 12. But, Y/N, about Hank... you haven't told me everything, have you?" He asked, switching the topic back on track with ease.

Damn Hopper and his stupid police interview tactics.

"I'm actually getting tired. I think I might head to bed." You suddenly said, ignoring his question completely because although Hopper was good at his job, you were too and as such knew that you didn't have to answer any questions. "Goodnight, Hopper."

You got up from the couch and Hopper stood up from where he had been kneeling. You half expected him to grab your arm to stop you from walking away or to try and push the topic further, but to your own shock, he didn't.

"Goodnight, Y/N."

You laid awake in bed for the next few hours unable to sleep. The television was playing softly in the background from the main room as you laid there staring up at the ceiling.

Memories of that night at New York in the police stations shower block played on repeat through your mind. You could almost feel Hanks hands on your body. His fingers digging into your hair in effort to stop you from resisting. The distinct scent of his potent cologne. The way the bathroom mirror shattered against your forehead. The taste of your own blood on your tongue. The sound of your horse voice screaming at him to stop... his sickening grin when he realised you couldn't escape... it all came flooding back.

Every single memory was running on loop in your brain, and you couldn't shut it off. You couldn't sleep.

Hopper came to bed around midnight. You had your eyes closed and pretended to be asleep while he moved quietly around the bedroom and carefully slipped into bed beside you not wanting to wake you. His bare shoulder brushed against yours as he laid on his back, but he didn't move away, and that unintentional physical touch was a small comfort reminding you that you were safe with Hopper.

Hopper was safe.

You were safe here.

Eventually you must have fallen asleep because the next thing you knew, you were blinking your eyes open to find daylight streaming in through the curtains.

Shit.

What was the time?

A quick look at your alarm clock had you sighing in relief because you weren't late for work. You leant over and switched your alarm off that was set to buzz in eight minutes.

Hopper was passed out beside you totally dead to the world as you silently got out of bed and glanced over at his sleeping form. The blanket over his body had pulled down during the night exposing his bare upper half dad bod.

You stood there for a few too many seconds to be considered normal while admiring his body before forcing yourself to turn away and get ready for work.

Hopper was not interested in you like that. He was your best friend. You needed to get over this stupid crush on him. Although, that crush had been there since the first day you met him in New York, so the chances of getting over it was probably non-existent. Great.

The girls were still asleep when you grabbed a piece of cold pizza from the fridge for breakfast. Well, you assumed they were asleep. The bedroom door was closed and there was no music, so you wandered around the kitchen quietly not wanting to wake them.

After eating the pizza, you grabbed your car keys and walked out the front door and went to work.

It was a normal day. The shift going by fairly quickly after a few traffic stops with Powell and a DUI with Callahan. Whilst on patrol with the guys, you kept an eye out for Hank but there was no sign of him around town.

12 o'clock came and went without any sign of Hopper. He had said he would come to take you to your house, but by 2pm there was still no sign of him. You called the house phone at the cabin but didn't get any answer and by the end of your shift he still hadn't shown up.

Figuring he must have been busy with El or something, you decided to drive out to the cabin to see if he was free to come to your house for 20 minutes. However, when you got to the cabin neither him nor El were home.

You waited an hour, but the sun was starting to set in the sky and if Hopper wasn't going to show up to help, you did not want to be alone at your house in the dark.

Screw it.

After eating another slice of pizza from the fridge you got back in the car and drove to your house to collect clean clothes.

There were no vehicles parked in front of your house. There were no people in your front yard and from what you could tell, the front door was shut and secure. There was no sign of Hank anywhere.

Taking a deep breath, you pulled the keys out the ignition and climbed out the car before making your way towards your house. It was strange feeling so scared and on edge in your own home, but you reluctantly went inside anyway despite every bone in your body telling you to just go back to the cabin.

It would only take a few minutes to get some clothes.

You would be fine…

-

… you were in fact not fine.

-

"Deputy? Hey, hey, Deputy can you hear me?" An unfamiliar voice called out.

"Her name is Y/N."

That voice you knew.

Callahan.

Wait, what was he doing here? More importantly, where even were you?

"Y/N, I need you to wake up. Y/N?" The other voice continued to say as you forced your eyes open to find a blurry paramedic hovering above you. "That's it. Can you hear me?"

"W-what happened?" You asked, your voice coming out rougher than you expected.

The paramedic frowned, "you don't remember?"

You stared at him for a moment before you tilted your head to the side and began to take in your surroundings. This was your house. You were lying on the floor of your living room.

Why the fuck were you lying on the floor?

"What..." You began to say as you tried to sit yourself up but cut yourself off with a pained hiss.

"Easy. Easy. Just take it easy." The paramedic hurriedly insisted, gently easing you back down.

Your entire body ached in pain. It was impossible pinpoint exactly where the pain was coming from. Your whole body felt like it was on fire but numb at the same time.

"Is she going to be okay?" Callahan asked.

The absolute devastation in his voice had you glancing in his direction to find your fellow Deputy hovering behind the paramedic. You had never heard him sound so utterly helpless before while he stared down at you biting his thumb nail anxiously.

You opened your mouth to ask what happened again but then it all came flooding back.

Hank.

He was already inside your house when you entered. You hadn't even noticed at first, he remained hidden behind the couch and when you turned your back...

It all happened so fast.

One minute you were picking up a jacket off the back of a chair and the next thing you knew you were being slammed into the wall. Your forehead cracked on impact putting a hole through the dry wall. Blood instantly began falling down the side of your face matting in your hair and staining the collar of your work shirt.

Hanks sickening laughter erupted from behind you and your stomach dropped at the realisation of what was going to happen.

You had tried to fight. You had tried to get away, but you couldn't.

Hank was quick to unclip your duty belt from around your waist before you could grab your gun or baton. He tossed your belt across the room but not before you got a few good punches in.

"You've gotten stronger since we last did this." Hank observed, spitting out a mouthful of blood before he slammed his fist into the side of your ribcage, knocking the wind out of you.

You doubled over, grabbing your stomach as you struggled to get air back into your lungs. Hank used your distraction to his advantage and shoved you to the ground.

"You thought you could hide in bumfuck Indianna, and I wouldn't find you? I never lost you to begin with." Hank began to say, pinning you on your back against the rough carpet with your hands held above your head in a death grip. "I've been waiting for the right moment to see you again. To do this... again. To ruin you like you ruined my career."

"Get the fuck off!" You screamed, thrashing under his grip but he shifted himself on top of you. His knees either side of your waist while he kept your wrists pinned above your head with one hand.

"C'mon, I thought you learnt from last time." He chuckled, leaning down closer until his mouth was beside your ear and whispered, "I like it better when you fight."

Hank reached for his belt with his free hand, and your fight or flight instincts went out the fucking window and you froze instead. You couldn't move. You couldn't breathe. You couldn't do anything. Your body was paralysed to the floor and there was nothing you could do when he began to reach for your pant zipper.

It all happened so fast.

It happened so fast yet so slow at the time.

You weren't sure how long it had been before there was a knock on your front door.

It was Callahan. He had seen your car parked out the front and came to see if you were okay knowing you had been living with Hopper since the soap incident.

You were fairly out of it by the time he realised something was wrong and broke through the front door. Hank was off your body and out the backdoor within a heartbeat and Callahan had... he had found you on the living room.

"Shit." You hissed softly, hot tears rising in your eyes as you remembered everything that had happened.

"She's going to be fine. But she needs to come back to the hospital. Her forehead needs stitches and... other injuries need looking at." The paramedic explained, glancing over his shoulder at Callahan who looked pale and terrified. "You can ride in the back of the ambulance if you want. Your partner took your work car, didn't he?”

"Uh, yeah, yeah Powell took off with the Cruiser. I can... ah, shit. I-I can't leave here, it's a crime scene now. I need to wait for the other officers to come in from recall to take over the scene. I... I will- I will come to the hospital after." Callahan hurriedly explained without taking a breath.

"He... he ran out the back door. He-" You mumbled but Callahan cut you off.

"I know. I know. It's okay. Powell is searching for him now as we speak, don't worry about any of that. I've tried to call the Chief, but I can't get a hold of him. I'll keep trying though." He reassured. "Everything is going to be fine, Y/N. I promise."

It was strange hearing those reassuring words from Callahan. He was always cracking jokes and teasing you at work. He was never serious or worried like this. Not with you. The two of you have had an almost brother-sister type relationship since you started at the Hawkins Police Department. He was a good friend, and you were relieved that he had shown up when he did, but at the same you kinda wished he hadn't because you never wanted him or anyone to see you like that. Ever.

The paramedics took you to Hawkins Hospital. Callahan remained at your house to guard the crime scene and you zoned out while the nurses and doctors ran their tests and scans.

Time blurred together on that hospital bed. Seconds ticking over into minutes. Minutes drifting into hours as you stared up at the classic cream paint on the ceiling above you.

Stitches were now covering the gash on the left side of your forehead. You hadn't seen yourself in a mirror yet but could feel the sting of a split lip and the tenderness around your left eye was telling you that it was going to bruise.

It could have been worse.

That was what the nurse kept telling you. It could have been worse. It could have ended worse. He could have hurt you worse.

That was all they were telling you and you hated it.

Yes, it could have been worse. But it was fucking worse enough as it was.

"We will have to monitor you tonight. Make sure there are no lingering effects from your head wound. But in the morning if everything is alright, you will be discharged." The nurse explained, looking up from the clipboard in her hand to meet your eyes.

You simply nodded at her words not having the energy to verbally respond and she must have noticed that too because she smiled sadly at you before leaving you to rest.

It wasn't long after that there was a gentle knock on your door and a moment later, Callahan stepped inside hesitantly. He looked exhausted. It was probably past midnight by now and he definitely should be at home in bed with his wife and not checking up on you, but here he was.

Neither of you said anything for a moment as Callahan walked further into the room. His worried eyes flashing over the injuries on your face.

"Did Powell find him?" You asked, breaking the silence.

He shook his head, "not yet. We got patrols searching the area though. We'll find him."

"Thank you for, uh, for..." You trailed off unable to finish that sentence, but Callahan caught on with what you wanted to say, and he instantly nodded.

"Of course. Is there anyone I can call for you?"

"Any luck with the Chief?"

He shook his head, "straight to voicemail. Sorry."

"Thanks for trying. I'll get discharged in the morning. I can contact him then, I'm fine." You dismissed, although those last two words were far from true, but Callahan didn't point that out.

"I'll swing by in the morning to pick you up, if you want?"

You were about to decline the offer out of impulse but then thought better of it. Your car was still at your house, and you had no way of getting there.

"That would be great. Thanks, Cal. Now go home." You said, nodding towards the door. "I'm fine here. Get some sleep, it looks like you need it."

"You saying I look like crap?" He asked raising his eyebrow.

You smirked ever so slightly, "obviously."

Callahan snorted softly, "thanks. You sure you'll be okay by yourself?" He asked seriously.

"I'm fine."

He gave you a levelled look that meant you were full of shit, but he didn't call you out on it. Instead, he reluctantly nodded and walked back to the door.

"Hey, Y/N?"

"Yeah?" You looked over at him from where he had paused in the doorway.

"I'm always here for you, don't ever forget that."

You smiled softly at his words and nodded before watching him walk out the room closing the door behind himself.

-

Next Chapter

MASTERLIST pinned to profile

If anyone wants to be tagged just let me know

Dare To Forget Me: Chapter Masterlist

Fandom: Law & Order SVU

Pairings: Rafael Barba x OFC // Minor Sonny Carisi x 2nd OFC

Story Summary: Detective Montserrat Novak originally planned to transfer to SVU but mysteriously withdrew her papers. Nine months later, Olivia pulls her profile when Montserrat becomes a material witness to a case. From there, Montserrat can’t really get away from SVU. Now she finds herself dealing with a Detectives & an ADA whom she seems to have a talent at pulling all his right strings.

Warnings: Due to the nature of the series’ plots, I do have to rate this as ‘mature’ for constant mentions of rape.

This post will be updated as the story progresses!

Montserrat Novak’s face claim: Ellie Kemper

Ch. 1 A Runaway  Ch. 2 Novak, Witness Ch. 3 Didn’t You Know? Ch. 4 Come Back Ch. 5 Ins And Outs Ch.6 Twists And Turns Ch.7 A Detective’s Business Ch.8 A Joker’s Way Ch. 9: Jokester’s Final Show Ch.10: Of All Moms Ch.11: Rivalries Ch.12: History Ch.13: Playing with Fire Ch.14: Wonderland Blues Ch.15: I Don’t Know Ch.16: Facing the Beast Ch.17: Shadows of the Past Ch.18: Secrets Behind Ch.19: I See You Ch.20: One, Two, Three Questions Ch.21: Birthday Blues Ch.22: Repercussions  Ch.23: Tangled Ch. 24: Detective What’s His Name? Ch.25: Owing Zero Ch.26: Playing the Game Ch.27: Shock-Worthy Ch.28: Like High School Ch.29: Help Me Help Him Ch.30: There For Her Ch. 31: Impeccable Timing Ch.32: One More Time Ch.33: Secret Detectives Ch.34: The Perfect Team Ch.35: How To? Ch.36: It’s Complicated Ch.37: The Truth Ch.38: Not Good Ch.39: Getting There Ch.40: Picture Perfect Ch.41: Tell & Hush Ch. 42: Ardent Ginger Ch.43: Sore Loser Ch.44: If I was Ch.45: If I Had Ch.46: A Casual Interlude Ch.47: The Lesser Gaps Ch.48: No Rest for the Weary Ch.49: Coming Down Ch.50: A Secret’s End Ch.51: First Confrontation   Ch.52: The One Where Everyone Knows Ch.53: The Impending Meet Ch.54: The Not-Jealousy Ch.55: Maybe She Did  Ch.56: All About One Ch.57: Just a Thought Ch.58: Family Loyalty Ch.59: Fearing the Unknown Ch.60: The Waiting Game

Montserrat’s masterlist

taglist: @ocappreciationtag​ @arrthurpendragon @anotherunreadblog @maaaaarveeeeel @stareyedplanet @averyhotchner @hellofutur @foxesandmagic @abzidabzy @xovalliegirlxo @sam-i–am​ @kmc1989​ @midmourn​ @choosejoyangel​ @rebeccapineapple​​​​

[If you’d like to be added to this specific OC’s stories/edits, send me a message!]