Fimmtudagur - Appreciation/Thanks

[ice-ziggee.livejournal.com]

Thanksgiving is the day we give thanks to the people and things we have in our lives so today we´re going to give thanks to the characters/people that fill our screens and our lives with laughter and tears. The theme is Appreciation or Thanks.

To make things easier on our code-monkeys, only 3 prompts per genre and 5 prompts in a row. If your prompt gets answered feel free to leave another one and don´t forget to thank the writer. Also remember the correct formatting:

House MD, House/Wilson, Just for you.
Supernatural, Sam/Dean, I would be lost without you.
Castle, Castle/Beckett, "Of course you´re coming to dinner, it´s Turkey-day."

Remember to put spoiler-alerts at the top and three spaces, at least a week after the episode has aired if the fic contains spoilers.

If nothing catches your eye here is a list of Lonely Prompts that need fics.

Today is my last day and I want to thank you all for an amazing week and I hope everyone will have a memorable weekend.

Happy Thanksgiving!!!



theme tag=AppreciationThanks

Comments

[ice-ziggee.livejournal.com]

House MD, House/Wilson, Just for you

[the-gabih.livejournal.com]

I should really be writing my English Lit commentary, but your avatar has hypnotised me to the point where I've spent a good five minutes sitting here staring at it.

(And it is so true.)

[ice-ziggee.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, Sam/Dean, I would be lost without you.

[ice-ziggee.livejournal.com]

Castle, Castle/Becett, "Of course you´re coming to dinner, it´s Turkey-day."

[lucdarling.livejournal.com]

Kate Beckett looks at the sign-up list in the break room, picking up a pencil nearby. The officers who pulled duty (or volunteered, her mind whispers) have signed up to form a potluck of store-bought Thanksgiving food for the gathering after shift change. It's tradition around here but while Kate wouldn’t call it a highlight of the year, it has a certain sentiment.

A soft tug on her brunette locks makes her spin around; the yellow-painted graphite clatters to the floor. Richard Castle peers at the list behind her, brows drawing together.

"Is that a 'K' I see for bringing green beans?" Beckett shoots him a dirty look, pulling a pen from her pocket to finish her name. The writer pulls it from her hand with a boyish smile. "I cannot, in good conscience, Detective Beckett, allow you to falsify information to the entire department. They would never forgive you for failing to show up with green beans."

It's her turn to look confused as the man winks. "What are you talking about Castle? I'm on duty Thursday, I'm bringing green beans... and you don't have a conscience." she adds, leveling another look at him.

It doesn't fluster him a bit. "Ah, but you're not on duty!" Castle replies brightly. "You'll be eating stuffing until you're positively stuffed like the rest of us. Or maybe just me, because Alexis seems to have learned her lesson since '02."

Kate stares at him with narrowed eyes. "You took me off the duty roster, Castle?"

His smile dims before he lights up again, pulling her close to whisper in her ear. "You can't be in two places at once, Kate. Of course you're coming to dinner, it's Turkey-day!" He steps back with a wide smile; Kate musters up a grin in reply to the enthusiasm he presents.

Maybe this Thanksgiving will be a highlight of the year.

[mickey-sixx.livejournal.com]

The Covenant, Caleb/Pogue/Reid/Tyler, giving

[mickey-sixx.livejournal.com]

His Dark Materials, Will/Lyra, I don't regret a thing

[mickey-sixx.livejournal.com]

Merlin, Merlin/Arthur, reading between the lines

Reading between the lines, Merlin, Merlin/Arthur

[entropynchaos.livejournal.com]

Arthur never says 'thank you' to Merlin. He says it to Morgana (usually mockingly) and to his father (with a clenched jaw, sometimes, to hold back what he really thinks) and to Gwen (because everyone remembers their manners around Gwen most of the time, even the King).

But he never says it to Merlin - not in so many words, anyway.

Instead, after Merlin's second-best shirt gets ruined beyond repair during one of their little 'adventures', Merlin finds a couple of shirts in his room that Arthur swears he's grown out of - although the linen feels brand new and Arthur probably hasn't been that skinny since he was twelve.

Or, after a particularly trying noble has been visiting the court and causing all kinds of extra work for Merlin, Arthur will take him out of Camelot on the pretext of a hunting trip - only to pull a blanket and the fixings of a pretty decent picnic from his saddle bags when they reach a prettish clearing. On those days they invaribly return to the castle late in the evening and empty-handed but with grins on their faces, and Merlin doesn't complain beyond a subtle eyeroll the next time they actually have to go hunting.

Of course, Morgana harangues Arthur for it, telling him he should appreciate and thank Merlin more often and she always tells Merlin he shouldn't put up with it - all the while glaring at Arthur.

But Merlin just pulls a face at Arthur behind Morgana's back to make the prince hide a laugh and he says he could never leave Arthur's service -

"After all, how would he survive without me?"

Arthur usually rolls his eyes at that and hooks his arm around Merlin's shoulders, reaching to ruffle Merlin's hair to make him laugh and pretend to struggle so that Morgana rolls her eyes and stomps off, muttering "Boys!" under her breath.

Merlin and Arthur know what they mean, though. They say thank you with gestures and please with pointed nudges. They are boys, after all, and just because they're friends and more, doesn't mean they have to talk about it.

[measuringlife.livejournal.com]

Marvel, Reed/Sue, Johnny/Peter, "We're glad to have you this year. Reed can't cut the turkey without some high powered laser and Johnny burnt it to a crisp last time."

[smaragdbird.livejournal.com]

This is actually more movieverse....Hope that's okay
__________________________________________________
Sue practically dragged Peter over the doorstep and into her arms when Johnny showed up with him.
"We're glad to have you this year. Reed can't cut the turkey without some high powered laser and Johnny burnt it to a crisp last time."
'Uhm, I'm glad to be here, too.' Peter mumbled, while casting nervous glances towards Johnny.
Reed wandered into the hallway, saw Peter and in the space of two blinks Peter and Reed were engaged in a conversation that contained at least as much numbers as words.
'You can help me set the table.' Sue told Johnny flatly.

Fifteen minutes later the table was set, the turkey cut into precise, small pieces and Sue had managed to get an edge into the conversation between Reed and Peter. Johnny couldn't help but set his napkin on fire because he was bored.
'Johnny.' Sue admonished him and Johnny rolled his eyes at her. Pete wasn't one of Reed's important scientist friends but Johnny's boyfriend. He knew that Johnny was easily bored.
'I think it's time to say our thanks.' Sue told the three men at the table. Reed and Peter stopped to talk shop. Sue began:
'I'm grateful for my wonderful husband.' She gave Reed an adoring smile, which made him blush: 'And that we're all happy and healthy. That there was no alien invasion today to ruin the day.' She gave Johnny a look: 'And I'm also thankful for my little brother.' Johnny threw her a smug smirk.
'I'm thankful for the discovery of a new planet full of unobtanium and yada yada yada in Johnny's ears. Until Sue threw Reed a nasty look and Reed stopped to be thankful for the repair of a particle accelerator in an alternative unverse and added Sue and Ben and Johnny to his list.
'I'm grateful for everything!' Johnny said enthusiastically and grinned into the round. Reed looked a bit flabbergasted, Sue like she wanted to headdesk and Peter unsuccessfully hid his grin behind his hand.
'Thanks, Johnny.' Sue replied sarcastically.
'Do you also want to say something?' She asked Peter encouragingly.
'I'm thankful that my Aunt May is healthy and that she has a boyfriend, even if that's a bit weird. I'm thankful that MJ has success with her career and that Harry finally managed to tell his father off. And I'm grateful for Johnny.' his smile did something very treacherous to Johnny's insides.

After dinner Johnny pulled Pete to the side and said in a low voice:
'You know I'm grateful for you, too, right?'
'Of course I do.' Peter assured him.

[kijikun.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, Gabriel/Sam, "You deserve this."

our beauty surely gone ; [gabriel/sam, g]

[spilled-notes.livejournal.com]

I keep procrastinating over Secret Santa because of these prompts. -headdesk- THEY'RE TOO GOOD TO PASS UP! I hope you like this. :)

On the coldest day of the year, in a deserted town no one cared enough to save, Lucifer falls for the last time.

There is blood and decay and lost hope all over the ground, staining what was once pure white snow and suffocating barely alive weeds. The grass is brown, too much death painted messily across fields and streets and broken windows.

There are no sounds. No one speaks or dares to break the silence. There is no wind, there are no rippling waves; for once, the world is still.

Something that used to be Dean collapses onto tar as black as his eyes and Castiel follows him down (has always followed Dean down, down, down into the muck and grime and sin and asymmetry of humanity). Somewhere far away, Bobby polishes off a ten year old whiskey bottle last held by a brown-haired woman stronger than him. In another town, four hundred miles southwest, a crystalline dollop of water drips down a marble statue of Jesus Christ in a church more pristine than it should be and a woman falls to her knees.

Ruby's knife is crusty and glued to the sweat on the inside of Sam's palm, handle melding to ridges dirty with hope. There are holes in his jeans, his shirt and his soul; failure in his heart, victory in his veins. He exhales wisps of smoke that disappear quicker than they materialize (it feels like a stuttering movie reel: his mother, Jessica, Dad and Dean, vanishing before his eyes in a blink, too fast for him to save, too far away for him to hold).

Noise slams back into reality much too quickly for anyone to prepare: the flap of wings, whistle of wind, rustle of leaves and pitter-patter of mislaid lives onto ground that has no room to spare. Castiel's voice is a distant rasp, pained and panicked; grappling hands that are pale and frayed--human. The Dean that he clings to is empty and deafeningly still, a mockery of a Dean that Sam once believed in, loved and lost.

When Sam tumbles, it is graceless and heavy. His legs give way with the chill of winter air, a knife no longer needed clattering to the ground louder than the sound of residual desolation. Castiel cries, a flame crackles and whips in a front lawn to Sam's right, and Gabriel catches him. Tiny snowflakes, impervious to the end of days, catch on the feathers of Gabriel's wings and collect along already wet eyelashes.

Sam does not cry, because he doesn't have it in him. Instead, he grips at Gabriel's jacket and says nothing. Gabriel maintains the reticence with one hand in Sam's hair and another over the scar low on his back from a knife of a lifetime passed.

On the coldest night of the year, in a street where everyone fell, Sam Winchester prays to a God no one believes in and Gabriel promises to never let go.

[ziplocless.livejournal.com]

Kane RPS, Steve/Chris, can't do this without you

[ravensword.livejournal.com]

*once again, this follows the rest of those prompts where Chris is a Shade (and yes, eventually I'll explain that)*


"You gonna explain why?" Chris asks as they pause in their long trek. The hills have swallowed them and even though it's daylight, they keep to the shadows and he's fine.

Somewhere in the valley below them lies their destination, or so Steve has told him.

Steve opens his mouth, then closes it again. He seems to consider his answer for a time and when he turns to Chris, his eyes sparkle. "I'm going to be honest with you, even though you're going to think I'm crazy."

Chris crosses his arms and waits.

"The moment I first saw you, I knew I was going to need you."

Chris raises an eyebrow, but doesn't say anything.

"I knew you were a Shade from the way they treated you. They were afraid of you. But that wasn't it....or rather, that was only part of it."

He turned away, walked to the edge of the long fall. "I'm...I can't do this without you."

"Do what, exactly?" Chris asks, moving from the tree to squint down into the shadowed valley. He can pick out movement from here, among the trees at the bottom.

Steve sighs beside him. "Keep them safe...Those people down there...they're my family, my...but when I saw you I knew."

"Knew?" Chris looks at him and Steve nods slowly.

"I can't explain it." Steve lifts a hand to cup his cheek and his hand is warm on Christian's cold skin. "I saw us when I looked into your eyes."

Chris licks his lips and lifts his eyes to meet Steve's. They're blue like morning skies, deep, beautiful...and he swears he can see into the man's soul. He's holding his breath as their lips meet and is still holding it when they part.

[elwing-alcyone.livejournal.com]

Fatal Frame, Rei/Miku, "I feel that being around you has made me stronger."

[kijikun.livejournal.com]

Supernatural, Dean/Castiel and/or Gabriel/Sam, The Winchester's give thanks.

hope you like!

[mad-maeglin.livejournal.com]

This wasn’t thanksgiving whatever, it was just dinner.

Dean had made the food run while Sam squared away their duffels and guns in the motel room. Upon returning, he calls out to Sam as he opens the door to see that Sam had managed to collect an angel of his own. Gabriel just appeared a while ago, sat on the coffee table beside the guns that Sam had started to clean, occasional piped up with a snide remark. Sam only nodded or made noncommittal sounds in response, listening as attentively as he could while wiping his brother’s favourite sawed-off with a clean rag.

Dean raised an eyebrow at the angel but didn’t say anything, rather, waved the plastic bags in front of Sam’s face (and grabbed Cas’ hand to make him wave the smaller plastic bag he was carrying in front of Sam’s face as well.) and started for the little kitchenette. Sam only sighed in response and stood up, wiping his hands on his jeans, leaving tracks of gun oil upon the thighs.

Cas and Gabriel were left in the sort-of living room while the brothers put the meal together. And if Sam put down four sets of paper plates instead of the usual two, Dean didn’t say a word about that either. Despite Cas’ initial confusion and stammered explanation by Sam, and Gabriel’s snide cranky remarks and Dean’s barely bitten back response, they all managed to sit down in front of the table.

Sam carefully carved the microwaved turkey roll, and passed a couple of slices unto Gabriel’s plate, whose only response was a raised eyebrow. Thank you God, for bendy, snarky, annoying, damn fine looking, archangels, whether or not You made them that way. He only rolled his eyes and tried not to laugh as Castiel liberally spread the canned cranberry sauce all over Gabriel’s slices, bringing out a small and quickly hidden look of gratitude from the archangel. Thank you god for the little angels who could. And did. And are still doing. My brother apparently.

Laughing, he playfully smacked his brother’s hand which was hurriedly reaching out for the pumpkin pie, still in it’s packaging, which lay just to the side of the table. He kept on laughing at the betrayed pout on Dean’s face as he took it away, putting it in the fridge and managed to say something about being for later. Only to have Dean reply that he wanted pie and he had suspicions about the turkey anyway.

Thank you, for Dean. He thought finally, passing over the next slice of turkey to his brother. He could have said all of this out loud, made a drama queen of himself as Dean would say.

But, as he started eating the slightly oddly textured is-this-really-turkey, he figured, it wasn’t thanksgiving whatever. It was the apocalypse, the devil wanted his skin, an archangel wanted his brother and God was AWOL. Not exactly in a giving thanks sort of season, when you think about it.

It was just dinner.

[measuringlife.livejournal.com]

RPS, Jared/Jensen, Thanksgiving Texas style

[kijikun.livejournal.com]

Avengers, Steve/Tony, "And I fall asleep counting my blessings."

I love that movie

[saphire-dance.livejournal.com]

White Christmas is playing on the television. Bing Crosby is crooning some lullaby to Rosmary Cloony but it's Tony that he's lulling to sleep. It's been a long, stressful week and now that the Avengers finally have some down time. Tony's just glad he can spend it with Steve. Even if all they manage to do is watch old movies until Tony falls asleep with his head on Steve's shoulder. Steve for the most part is glad to have the company, snoring or not. Watching these “old” movies often makes him (not homesick, timesick maybe) nostalgic for the way his life could have gone. All it takes is a glance at Tony asleep in his arms to feel like he's right where he belongs. And for that he's grateful.

[kijikun.livejournal.com]

Due South, Rayk/Fraser, He's so damn thankful.

[measuringlife.livejournal.com]

author's choice, author's choice, and then you call me and it’s not so bad / it’s not so bad at all / and I want to thank you / for giving m the best day of my life / and oh just to be with you / is having the best day of my life

[the-gabih.livejournal.com]

Merlin, Arthur, Gwen, Morgana and Merlin, showing appreciation in the little things

no fic, but...

[dreamer-marie.livejournal.com]

Icon love!

[anthimeriate.livejournal.com]

Glee, the Glee Club, having a Thanksgiving meal together

[anthimeriate.livejournal.com]

Glee, Finn/Kurt and Quinn/Rachel, gay gift basket

(I was thinking Kurt gets one for the girls to thank them for his chance at Finn, but whatever you'd like, even if it's not slashy. XD)

[ziplocless.livejournal.com]

Leverage, Eliot/Author's choice or +team, long time since he's felt this (appreciated/grateful)

[shinymessoyay.livejournal.com]

I'm hoping to eventually be able to work in more than just sort of vague hints into my responses where the characters actually talk to each other, rather than start out in bed, but so far it hasn't happened. I hope this is something like what you were looking for!

Paying Attention

Eliot's fixing the pipes beneath the kitchen sink, although he isn't sure how he got to be doing it. Probably because Nate wasn't likely to call a plumber until water was all over the place, and it was bugging Eliot to leave it broken.

When he finishes checking all the resealed couplings, he pulls himself back out from under the sink, only to find Hardisan and Parker at the counter. Hardisan has his laptop, and Parker has her lock-pick set, but they're both watching him.

"What?" he growls.

Parker smiles brightly, sweeps her kit together and carefully approaches Eliot. He doesn't actually expect her to do it, but she does kiss his cheek. He's vaguely pleased and sort of terrified. He thoroughly intends to check all his pockets later.

Parker wanders off while he's distracted by his general confusion with his current circumstances, but Eliot is brought back to the world by Hardisan's snickering. "What?" Eliot repeats, stalking forward to loom over the hacker. "Something funny?"

Hardisan doesn't even have the grace to pretend to be nervous. "Nah, man, just..." He looks down.

Eliot realizes suddenly how much Hardisan holds back. The look on his face right now is so open it makes Eliot sort of uncomfortable.

"You take care of us," Hardisan says. He looks up.

Eliot looks away, shrugging. "Just some pipes, man."

Hardisan touches his forearm gently, resting his long fingers over Eliot's worn flannel shirt. "No, it isn't. You know, we joke sometimes about Nate and Sophie being mom and dad, but I..."

He struggles visibly for a minute, the fingers on his other hand tapping restlessly on the counter like his default setting for confused is to start typing. Eliot grabs his shoulder with his other hand. "I know, Hardisan," he mutters.

Hardisan looks at him quickly, and they stand like that for a moment before Hardisan smiles brightly at him.

Eliot immediately reverses, pointing at him. "Don't. No...mushy stuff."

Hardisan holds up both hands and deliberately closes his mouth. Eliot takes his chance and retreats.

The next day, Eliot receives two rush deliveries. The first is a large propane grill, incredibly high end, from a specialty store online. The second is a side of beef from a local butcher's shop. He gets a text from Hardisan as the butcher's assistant is pulling away.

can we com ovr?

Eliot starts laughing. It's been a long time since he's felt this appreciated.

[ziplocless.livejournal.com]

Leverage, team, first Thanksgiving as a family

[moonchildfic.livejournal.com]

It started two days before thanksgiving when Parker announced she bought a Turkey.

It took the team between ten (Nate) and thirty (Hardison) seconds to stop what they were doing and look over toward Parker in disbelief as her word choice sank in.

She bought a Turkey. Not Stole, bought.

Before they had recovered Parker dumped a suspiciously Turkey sized and shaped package onto Eliot’s lap. “I bought it so you can cook it.”

Eliot looked up, rendered non-verbal once more by Parker being, well, Parker.

The silence that followed was broken when Hardison added. “I can make the stuffing.”

Eliot looked about ready to finally find something to say, possibly along the lines of ‘Hell No.’ when Sophie spoke up. “That’s a wonderful idea. I can bring cranberry sauce, oh, and Pumpkin Pie. It’s been forever sine I baked. Since that job in Prague a few years ago.”

‘Hell no’ was interrupted one more time when Nate mused aloud. “I helped Maggie cook mashed potatoes enough times I could probably do it myself.”

“Hell No.”

There it was.

“I’m not spending all day cookin’ a Turkey so you can spend fifteen minutes stuffing your faces with it, and none of you are comin’ anywhere near my or Nate’s kitchen an’ don’t say that you’d just make it at home and bring it over. I know you three don’t even have kitchens.” Eliot cut off Hardison before he spoke a word. “Microwaves don’t count.”

“But Eliot it’s Thanksgiving.” Parker insisted. “And we’re a family and this is our first thanksgiving together.”

“And” Sophie added with a sly smile. “If we destroy your kitchen we’ll buy you a better one.”

That was how it started.

It ended with them ordering in Chinese and the others tried to pretend like they actually cared how much they were all about to shell out to repair the damages to Eliot’s realm.

What happened between was added to the list of things Eliot would never willing speak about.

Right after the private admission that there were a lot worse ways to spend the holiday.

[sexycazzy.livejournal.com]

CSI:NY, Mac/Danny, thankful for each other

Notes sent and unsent, CSI:NY, Mac/Danny, thankful for eachother

[beautybecks.livejournal.com]

One of these days I will write a straight out fluffy fic for these two. As it is, I've managed to turn this prompt into something slightly angsty.

Notes sent and unsent

"Hey boss, you're still here." Danny notes, his voice a strange mix of relief and anxiety.

"Yeah, I'm here. What are you doing here? I thought you took the day off." Mac replies, Danny practically begged him to have the day off.

"I did. Thanksgiving with the family but it didn't go too well." Danny's eyes are red-rimmed, like he's been crying or drinking. Possibly both.

"I'm sorry." Mac utters the words, surprised by how much he truly means them.

"It'll all blow over by tomorrow." Danny shrugs but Mac can tell he doesn't believe it. "You know us Italians."

"Why are you here Danny?" Mac asks, regretting it because Danny looks like Mac physically smacked him, but Mac doesn't know how to apologise.

"Yeah, I'm sorry. You're working." Danny starts looking for the exit. "I just came to gave you this." Danny thrusts a piece of paper in Mac's hand then leaves before Mac has any chance to respond.

Mac takes a deep breath and reads what Danny has given him, recognising Danny's handwriting.

Hey Mac,

I'm here on thanksgiving, eating a turkey sub and washing it down with beer, feeling sorry for myself, wondering what the hell I have to be thankful for and it hits me: you.

I'm thankful for you giving me a job when every other cop in this city thought I was unemployable, a loose cannon, a Klingon (it took me six years to get that reference and I only got it thanks to Adam so I guess I'm thankful to him too)

I'm thankful to you for letting me work with some of the kindest people, the smartest minds and the strongest souls. Your team is so amazing, I don't belong but I'm thankful that I'm a part of it.

I'm thankful to you for keeping me on the straight and narrow. Without you I'd probably be in a jail cell, or dead.

I'm thankful to you for giving me something to aspire to before I die. You've given me purpose I never knew I had. If I can be one fifth of the man you are...

I'm thankful to you for not giving up on me, for giving me a chance in the first place, for pushing me and constantly making me better than myself.

I'm thankful to know you, to work under you.

I'm thankful for you.

D

Mac tracks Danny down to a bar only a block away from Danny's apartment. Danny's hitting the booze pretty hard.

"Hey Mac, what are you drinking? I owe ya." Danny slurs.

"I just wanted to say thankyou."

"For the note?"

"Yes." Mac replies before adding. "But to thankyou you for being you."

Danny scoffs, shakes his head and leaves. Mac takes Danny's place at the bar.

When Mac stumbles home (he hasn't drunk in seven years it didn't take him much to get drunk) he doesn't go to bed, not straight away. He places a pad of legal paper and a pen on his desk and starts writing.



Danny,

I don't think about this too much, it's too dangerous but you need to know... you deserve to know how thankful I am for you.

You are the most passionate, caring, heartfelt man I know. You feel everything. I try to numb myself to the world, it is too painful but you are completely open. It amazes me.

You are so strong. You take on the weight of the world and you still won't let it bring you down. You have hundreds of friends leaning on you. And you support them all.

You are so brave, because you are so afraid. The world is a scary place and you know it, you are not stupid. You are brave because you face fear head on.

You view your flaws as weaknesses but they are only human in a world that is ceasing to be.

You are amazing. Because when I thought I could no longer feel anything, when I thought people only could cause pain, when I was scared to trust anybody, you showed me how wrong I was.

You made me love again.

That's a gift I have no idea how to thank you for.

Mac files the note away before stumbling to his bed and falling asleep.

The note never does get given to Danny.

[sexycazzy.livejournal.com]

Charmed, Piper, Phoebe & Paige, having their first Thanksgiving dinner without any demons, warlocks, witches etc interrupting them.

[sexycazzy.livejournal.com]

NCIS, Tony/Gibbs + team, coming out to the team at the Thanksgiving dinner.

[sexycazzy.livejournal.com]

Friends, Chandler/Joey + friends, reliving best Thanksgiving memories

[draco-somnians.livejournal.com]

You mean Chandler/Joey as a couple right? *g*

I may be back with fic...

[ziplocless.livejournal.com]

Kane RPS, Steve/Chris, I never thanked you

[ravensword.livejournal.com]

*and again...follows the piece above*


The dark that settles into this valley is among the deepest he has ever felt. It settles into him, soothes him, cools the last of the burns on his skin. He pulls at his clothes, leaving them in a trail down to the stream that runs through the valley.

The water beckons him, promises healing and strength. It has been a long time since he had been this free, to seek the dark or the water on his own...since he was a teenager really, since before the war that broke the nation into pieces, since before they discovered the truth.

He slides into the water, remembering when they had come for him...with badges and guns and his mother had tried to protect him, hide him, but their lights were powerful and his eyes watered under the glare and he didn't understand.

He had been in the custody of the government during the war, had been studied and examined and then given jobs to do. As long as he did what he was told, they said they would let him go one day.

And then came the last one. He'd been en route to a mission when the 8th Battalion hit them...and then they had hurt him. He had no doubt his handlers were dead. They hadn't expected to find him, and when they did, they'd hoped to do the same with him the government had.

And then there was Steven.

Chris sitsin the water, watching Steven move through the camp...not that he can actually see him, but he can feel where he was. The blood Steve had fed him is still inside him, still helping him heal, and as long as a part of the man is inside him, Chris will know where he was.

Steve is coming toward him now, sliding through the trees in the dark almost as surely as Chris can and he smiles as he appears, Christian's clothes in his hands. "You left a trail."

Chris offers a smile of his own, tentative. He's not sure of himself with Steve and that makes him nervous. He stands slowly, water running off his naked body as the moon peeks out over the nearest mountain.

The cool touch of the moon's light bathes him in a soft glow, tingles against his wet skin as he steps from the water. "Maybe I wanted you to find me." Chris says softly, taking the clothes from his hand and tossing them to the side.

"Here I am." Steve responds, licking his lips.

Chris nods, his hands lifting to Steve's shirt. "I never thanked you...for bringing me with you...for saving my life..."

Steve seems nervous now as Chris undresses him, more so when his hand finds the wound Steve's been hiding for days now. "Let me."

Chris tugs on his hand, bringing him toward the water. Steve comes slowly, pauses on the rocks to take off his shoes and Chris holds out his hand, drawing Steve to him. "Let me thank you." Chris murmurs as he walks Steve out to a deeper spot in the water, and pushes him down so that the wound is in the water.

He submerges himself, feels the water flow over his skin, brings his face close to the wound and lets the water flow between them. The wound is half way to healed when he lifts himself from the water. "Once we were coveted for this, not feared for our other gifts."