[ SMS –> Jo : 2:03am ] Where are you? [ SMS –> Jo : 2:03am ] Are you in Atlanta? [ SMS –> Jo : 2:04am ] I think there’s someone in my house.
Jo stared at the phone, a grin tugging at her lips. She’d been out of town for a week and had wanted to surprise him with a nice meal at the end of his shift, but she apparently hadn’t been quite as sneaky as she’d thought she was being.
[SMS -> Tom : 2:04am ] why don’t you come inside and see 😉
It was late, and Tom had stayed at work late because of a 12-car pileup toward the end of his shift. He’d pulled into his driveway to see a light on in the house; a light that wasn’t on when he left for work earlier that day. He panicked and texted Jo, and frantically checked his phone when she texted back. A smile spread across his face at her text, and he grabbed his things and made his way inside.
“Jo? Hello?” He called out as he cracked the door open, still on edge from work.
People always ask if your trauma changed you but I was young, I don’t know who I was before my trauma. I don’t know who I would’ve been without it and I never will know.
Tom was so busy fumbling with the suture kit, he didn’t see the signs of her losing consciousness. He first heard the gun clatter to the floor. Shit. “Hey, Hey!”Tom’s voice was urgent, and he cursed himself for not finding out her name, not that she would’ve disclosed it. “Hey!” His voice echoed eerily throughout the empty building, and he nearly scared himself. He checked for a pulse and for breathing – both were fine. While her heartbeat was there, it was faster than he’d liked. Tom increased the pressure on her wound, in an attempt to further staunch the bleeding before suturing the wound. He pulled the bloodied fabric away from the wound and make quick work of his hands, sewing up the wound faster and more precise than ever before. He doused the wound with water once more, and sighed and sat back on his heels as the bleeding was contained. Now to wait for her to wake.
It wasn’t often that Cara lost consciousness. She had an insanely high pain threshold, and iron will to stay awake, to keep going. And that was born purely out of fear. When she wasn’t conscious, when she wasn’t aware, she wasn’t in control. She didn’t know what could be attacking her. She didn’t know what could be possessing her. Which was why, when she finally came to, she came to with a start, instantly reaching up to feel the anti-possession tattoo behind her ear. Still intact. Then her memories of what had happened to her hit her one after the next. Lilah, the bullet wound, the paramedic, the warehouse… Oh, no. What if he… No. No, she was still in the warehouse, and he was still with her. But maybe – maybe he’d left and come back… “…How much…how much time did I lose?” She swallowed hard as a wave of pain washed over her, “…Did you leave? Did you call them?”
As Tom sat back on his heels, he took the leftover water and cleaned his hands of the blood that coated his hands. Paying special attention to the tattoo on the inside of his right wrist. His fingers ran over the raised ink, the tattoo on it’s final days of healing. His head snapped towards the woman as she came to. “Eh, 15 minutes, give or take like, 5 minutes.” Tom placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, hoping to help calm the woman. “I didn’t leave. I stayed right here, by your side the entire time. I never leave a patient in the field alone. You’re safe.”
“You’re right, you’re not, but someone needs to help you regain that control,” Evie replied, feet firmly planted as she continued to stare him down. “You’re going to run out of blood bags soon. Then what are you doing to do, Stefan? Are you going to leave? Find someone to hurt – to kill? Because I can’t let you do that. I won’t. So know – if that’s your plan… You’re going to have to start with me.”
Stefan pulled the bag from his mouth and scoffed. “And you’re supposed to be that person to pull me back? Yeaah, good luck with that,” he laughed bitterly, continuing to drain the bag. The more he drank, the more power he felt. “I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it!” His voice grew to a yell as he finished the bag, pulling every last drop from the plastic. “If taking you out means I can continue to live and feed, then so be it.” Stefan stood, moving closer to the woman, and closer to the door. “I don’t want to hurt you, Evie. But if you stand in my way, I’ll have no other choice.”
“Exactly!” Tom exclaimed as his daughter clambered into his lap. He easily carried her to the armchair and pulled a blanket over their legs. “Right! Mr. and Mrs. Dursley of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thankyouverymuch,” he started. Tom was prepared for his daughter to quickly lose interest, much like he did when he was young.
– name:
– likes / dislikes:
– first word:
– appearance:
– which parent they look more like:
– which parent they like more:
– height once fully grown:
– job ambition:
– faceclaim:
“It does have fixers, but not quite like Daddy. They use magic and potions to fix things,” Tom explained, smiling as her little fingers imitated him. Even at 4 years old, he was amazed of how much his daughter was like him as a kid. Hell, he was amazed that he even had a kid. “Harry Potter is a story about a young wizard who goes to magic school. It’s pretty cool.”
If you’ve only played with 1 of my muses in the past, but think you’re limited to just pick one and only one for life, you are WRONG. Dude, play with all of them I don’t care, that’s what AUs are for! Got a single muse blog that you see working with 3+ of mine? GO for it. Blend verses or I’ll make separate ones! Got a multi muse blog too, and want to mix and match? DO IT. Tried one muse of mine and it fizzled between our muses? Let’s try another! I did not make this indulgent blog to waste precious possibilities. LET’S DO IIIIIIIIT.
You are NOT annoying if you send asks to me. You are NOT bothering me if you IM me. You are NOT bugging me or irritating in any way shape or form.
You can send me as many memes as you want, you don’t bother me. You’re not annoying or a bother.
If you don’t see me answer an ask you sent in, there’s a high chance I didn’t get it because I’m fairly sure more than half the time I am sent asks I don’t get them. So if you send me an ask, and I don’t answer it, please… IM me and ask about it. I’ll tell you if I got it or not. I don’t bite, I promise.
Cisco backup 