A/N: Guys, this is one of my favorites. I’m loving it so far!
Steve stopped mid-step, forcing you
to move past him and close the door. He was completely solid, unmoving, eyes
darting everywhere as he took your semi-empty apartment. You tilted your head
and gave him a curious look before you remembered.
He lived here. This was his home.
His eyes teared up again. “It’s—”
His voice broke before he gave a breathless laugh, loaded with the sadness
inside him. “It’s so different, but it’s still the same.”
-shiro is missing. everyone is devastated. allura tries getting Lance to move lions, but blue raises her particle barrier and doesnt let Lance out. lance gives blue permission to put him into a cyro-frozen sleep state for however long he needs to be, just so blue wont be taken from him like his family
-keith gets to be the black paladin. lance gets dissed and doesnt get any credit for anything he does, while keith gets all the attention now. lance ends up angry kissing keith while crying, sobbing out his fears and insecurites while keith hisses out apologies and kisses his cheeks.
-lance runs from the castle after some incident with allura yelling at him in a fit of rage. he ends up at the balmera somehow, and he is given comfort and love from the balmera and it’s inhabitants while no one on the castle notices him missing. they realize after a day or two. then they go looking for him. (he doesn’t want to go back, not really)
-lance suddenly realizes how useless he is in regards to how everyone reacts with each other, he’s just the outlier that makes everyone roll their eyes and groan whenever he so much as speaks. he ends up sobbing his heart out in his room, not quite noticing that his comm is on. (coran and hunk get to him first. then pidge does. shiro and keith are busy training.)
-blue starts learning to speak in spanish for him. he starts crying because he’s so so homesick and blue is actually making an effort to cheer him up (because no one else would).
-coran marks some points on the star map that lance was looking at. lance and coran bond over the stars and memories of their homes. allura eventually joins them, and lance and the princess bond over their families and rain.
-lance turns out to be faintly altean. coran and allura are overjoyed. lance doesn’t want another family.
-Lotor ends up legitimately falling in love with lance after he manipulated lance. after the paladins rescue lance, lotor ultimately turns to the reasoning of, ‘if I can’t have him, no one can’. lance is then either recaptured or killed.
“He’s delicate! He won’t survive in there!” “He’s not delicate, his biceps are bigger than your goddamn thigh.” “HE DRINKS BEER WITH HIS PINKIES OUT, HE’S DELICATE.”
Yeah, that’s right, we’re not even dating and I still paid, whuddup. Gentleman level wildebeest right here.
and for christ’s sake Yoongi touch his ass at least once you vanilla piece of shit. remember the you-know-whats are in those kitty socks i keep in the back of our closet❤ have fun being a Gaylord no matter what jesus loves you!!1!1!
“12/10 would quantum smash into the fourth dimension,”
“you know what i think? you should date someone that ruins your underwear and not your makeup”
“I don’t believe in vanilla cheesecake unseasoned hardboiled eggs shit if it’s just a quick fuck,”
“Just you wait Min Yoongi. You will rue the day you insulted my weenis.”
“Don’t you dare put your meat juice in my cereal,”
“He looks like he belongs in heaven, right next to the giant bowls of lollipops and the Cat Fancy magazines.”
i’ll send u my address in like 2 sec i have to go look @ the mailbox bc i forgot it
Jeongguk hiccups out a sob. “Oh my God,” he sniffles, letting the tears run down his face in hot, wet streams. “Your dick is so cute.”
[MIN.Y has removed KIM.N from the group] KIM.S: Yoongi-yah I’ve told you so many times you can’t just remove people like that it’s rude! [MIN.Y has removed KIM.S from the group]
“I would sell you to satan for one cornchip,”
“YOU ARE AN IMPURE CHILD, REPENT AND PUT YOUR TONGUE BACK IN YOUR MOUTH,”
“I am going to get out of this chair specifically to kill you, you little shit,”
“I’ve been in a relationship with my hand for the past 23 years,”
Might I just say @mortemistrata that I was a little unsure about this prompt at first, but I had so much fun writing this!
“Good morning, Keith.”
Keith froze with one eyebrow arched. He slowly studied the brunet in front of him. “No ‘mullet’ this morning?”
“That would be rude,” Lance said, lips curled into a frown.
Keith’s face fell until he was matching the brunet’s expression. “Are you okay?” He zeroed in on small details, like the way Lance’s normally tan skin looked slightly washed out or the dark, bruised circles under Lance’s almost lifeless eyes.
“Of course.” Lance replied, tone even. “We should go before we are late to breakfast.”
Keith absently nodded, brows furrowed deeply, as he followed the brunet into the dining hall.
Request: Can you
write one where the reader breaks down to Bobby because she is pregnant with
Dean’s baby. Thank you :)
Word Count: 1,069
The rain has been coming down in buckets all night, and the
wind whips at the sides of the house in such a way that every now and again,
the foundations shake so severely that Bobby nearly ends up waiting out the
storm in the panic room.
When he sees the flash of light outside the window followed
by a rumble, he isn’t paying enough attention to think of it as anything but
another facet of the storm. What he does pay
attention to, however, is the frantic, loud knocking that reverberates well
beyond the door.
The knocking doesn’t stop until he answers, pulling the door
open to be bet with a harsh gust of wind.
“Y/N?” You’re soaked and dishevelled, and he isn’t sure
which has smeared your makeup more – the rain, or the tears you’re trying and
failing to hold back.
“Can- can I come in?” It’s a stupid question, but it’s the
only thing your fuzzy, addled brain can come up with. Bobby doesn’t speak, but
he nods, ushering you into the warmth of the house where you grew up and
forcing the door closed against the wind.
“What the hell are you doing out in this?” Driving in this
weather would be dangerous enough without
you being in a complete state. You don’t reply, though, shivering in the
hallway and wiping at your face in frustration. It scares him – you’re the
closest thing he has to family: he’d raised you since you were six months old
and your parents had been killed, leaving no-one to keep an eye on their
demon-blood infected child. He’d taken you in, and found that he’d quickly
become all too fond of you.
“Y/N, seriously. Where are Sam and Dean?” It must be
something to do with them, because it elicits a sob from you, “I don’t want to
play twenty questions with you.” He steps forward, resting his hands on your
shoulders and pressing an affectionate kiss to your forehead, “Give yourself
some time, alright? Go get a shower, get changed. Everything’s fine. Nothing is
going to hurt you while you’re here. I’ll make you a hot chocolate while you’re
gone, just how you like it. How does that sound?”
To his eternal relief, that manages to get a nod and a weak
smile from you, and he pulls you in for a gentle hug before letting you go. He
doesn’t look away from you until you’re safely up the stairs, and then sighs to
himself – he’s never seen you like this. But you need him, and he’ll be damned
if you’re not going to have him to go to.
It’s nearly half an hour before he hears you coming down the
stairs, but there’s nothing wrong with that – especially when he sees how much
better you’re looking. Sure, your eyes are still red-rimmed and you’re still
shaking with the effort it takes not to cry, but at least your clothes are warm
and dry and your lips are no longer bluish with the cold.
You shuffle into the room and take a seat, swallowing hard
before looking up at Bobby. He sets the hot chocolate – piled high with cream,
chocolate shavings, and marshmallows – in front of you, and then takes the seat
next to yours. The storm outside still batters the windows, but the kitchen is
warm, and with the pair of you bathed in warm light, it’s almost cosy.
“Talk to me.” Bobby prompts softly, reaching over and
resting his hand over the top of yours. He sees the way you flinch at the
gesture, and for a moment he thinks the worst, “Is it Dean? Has he hurt you?”
He hadn’t been overly happy when you’d begun dating the eldest Winchester two
and a half years ago, but you’d been happy, and Dean had given him a heartfelt
promise that his intentions were pure – but Bobby had promised in return that
the moment Dean so much as breathed the wrong way at you, he’d find himself
without the means to do so again.
“Y/N, sweetheart, I need you to talk to me if you want to
“I can’t fix it.” You speak properly for the first time
since you stepped into the house, “It’s broken. Very broken.”
“Still with the ambiguous, sweetheart.”
It takes you a few moments to muster up the courage to come
out with it, but eventually, you do.
Silence, apart from the sounds of the storm outside, fills
the room. For a long moment, he can’t find it in himself to speak – and then…
“Do not drink
that.” He wraps his spare hand around the mug and slides it away from you,
reminded suddenly of the copious amount of whiskey he just dropped into that, “Is
it… it’s Dean’s?”
You scoff, “That’s the problem, isn’t it? Of course it is.” Sorrow
and bitterness taint your tone in equal measure, and Bobby winces.
“Have you told him?” He tries, and you nod again.
“Yeah. That’s what the second problem is.” You sigh, pulling
your hand away from his in order to run your hands over your face, skilfully
masking a sob – but not enough. Bobby knows you inside and out, and picks up on
“He reacted badly?”
“If saying I’d ruined everything and needed to get the hell
out of his sight is reacting badly, then I’d say so, yeah.” You spit, but your
voice breaks and before you know it, your head is on his shoulder and you’re
sobbing openly into him, everything coming out. He holds onto you tightly, a
silent promise that he’ll never let you go; that you always have him.
It’s nearly three hours later, by the time he’s managed to
calm you down and get you asleep. You’re still asleep on the sofa when his
phone rings. He answers, begrudgingly, when he realises who it is.
“Bobby? Have you heard from Y/N? She’s gone and we’ve been trying
to track her all night, but we haven’t found anything.” He rattles off, his
voice frantic and shaking.
“Why? What happened?” Bobby asks, watching you sleeping form.
“We got in a fight. I said something stupid. God, Bobby, I’ll
never forgive myself if she doesn’t…” He cuts himself off, and swallows hard, “Have
you heard from her?”
He pauses, “Nope. Nothing. I’ll let you know if I do.”
anonymous asked: Can you do a fic like the clock tower one where reader falls off a building or something a peter is trapped and he just watches her fall, he thinks shes dead, gets beat up by the villian of choice since hes depressed and shit,,, but little does he know Tony Stark saved her? (and please, can reader not be an avenger or starks daughter, just a regular teenage girl who knows and has a relationship with stark based through peter??) sorry if that made no sense?
author’s note: this probably isn’t what you wanted but i tried my best so thank you for requesting lovely! Xx
The fight between Peter and the vulture had been going on for quite some time now and neither one of them was close to winning or losing. It had first started in an alleyway which had soon let out too a rooftop on top of one of the tallest building in Queens.
The vulture had tried to shoot at Peter with one of the guns he had but Peter had managed too dodge every single one off the shots being aimed at him, and he carelessly shot his web out from his arm ripping the weapon away from the winged man so it flew off the rooftop and landed on the sidewalk below it shattering it into multiple pieces.
This seemed to have infuriated the man as he now came flying towards Peter at an unearthly speed. Peter only managing last minute to jump over him and land on the building completely unharmed.
But the door that lead onto the rooftop suddenly flung open distracting Peter so much that in the few seconds he had turned to look at it the vulture had managed to grab him by his neck and slam him down onto the ground below them.
He then started throwing Peter around like a rag doll until he was soon almost too weak to stand on his own two feet. He had blood dripping down from his lower lip and his face was covered in bruises and scars.
The both off them had been to distracted to notice you when you had walked onto the rooftop and you had been standing there for a solid five minutes watching your boyfriend get beat up and you had no idea what the hell you were going to do.
But when you saw the vulture come towards Peter’s bruised body again you panicked and not knowing what else to do you did the first thing that came into your mind. So you cried out a desperate “stop!” gaining both of the mens attention.
Peter had let out a strangled no as he prayed to god the man wouldn’t try to use you against him but as he now came towards you Peter tried his best to pull himself back up only to have his arms and legs completely give out on him.
“This oughta teach you not to mess with my business again” The vulture smiled down at Peter before swiftly picking you up and without hesitation throwing you over the edge of the building sending you plummeting down and towards your death.
Peter had screamed out a strangled sob at the action, blood spilling out off his mouth as he tried to drag himself towards the edge only to have the vulture fly towards him again lifting him up off the ground before slamming him back onto the hard concrete as hard as he possibly could.
Peter groaned rolling over to his side but before he could do anything else he was slammed into the ground once again, this time harder and more painful than the last time.
Again he tried to stand up, but didn’t even manage to lift his arm up before he was roughly thrown at the metal door that had lead you out and onto the rooftop.
The flying man then grabbed Peter by his collar and repeatedly punched him in the face not giving him any chance to grieve or save his loved one. Peter didn’t try to fight him back or stop him since he had nothing too fight for anymore.
And as the vulture had finally decided that Peter had, had enough he left him on the rooftop and flew away with one last threat before disappearing into the dead of night as if nothing had happened.
Peter’s vision was becoming more and more blurrier and the pain he felt was increasing by the second.
But he had to get to the edge off the building, he had too know if your lifeless body laid there but before he could reach it a shooting pain in his side sent him into a world off pain and his body not being able too handle it he passed out.
The moment your legs had left the ground and your body had been lifted up and thrown over the rooftop a gasp had left your mouth as you felt yourself fall getting dangerously close to the ground with every second that passed.
Your eyes slammed shut preparing for the impact your body would soon feel, but before you could reach the ground two metal arms managed to wrap themselves around you and you were flown up into the air.
You looked up at your savior and saw none other than the Iron Man holding you in his arms. You let out a sigh of relive as you curled up into his chest letting a few tears escape your eyes.
“Thank you” You said looking up at the man in the Iron suit. He looked down at you and gave you a small nod before looking back up continuing his way to your home.
He had dropped you off on your fire escape before flying away probably to go and help Peter which now you realized probably thought you were dead. You felt your stomach churn at the thought and prayed Tony would make it in time to save him.
The next day had been a complete blur for you. The only thing on your mind being Peter Parker, that hadn’t shown up at school and was impossible to reach since his phone was dead.
So you had decided to ditch the rest off the day so you could inform your boyfriend that you were in fact okay—that being if Tony hadn’t already done it.
You walked towards the double doors leading out of the school and pressed yourself against them, harshly pushing them open before making your way onto the school grounds.
You had quickly managed to make your way back to Peter’s house and nervously knocking on the door you rolled back and forth on the balls of your feet and waited for someone to open the door.
But when no one did you let yourself in quietly twisting the doorknob, you peeked your head inside and there was no one there. You huffed opening the door completely and shut it behind you.
You removed your backpack from your shoulders and laid it down onto floor along with your shoes and made your way up to Peter’s room.
You were nervous to say the least but as you now stood in front of Peter’s door you slowly opened it only to be met with complete darkness.
You could make out Peter’s figure sitting on his bed, his back facing you as he rested his head in his hands. “Aunt May I told you I wanted to be left alone” Peter said his voice just below a whisper.
“It’s not May” you said, slowly making your way towards him. His head snapped up at the sound of your angelic voice and his brown eyes met yours. “Y/N?” he asked his voice cracking as he turned around to face you.
“H-how I- i thought you were dead” Peter sobbed his quivering lips forming a thin line. He had thought that he had finally lost his mind when he saw you standing in his room after what he had witnessed last night.
“No Pete Tony he- uh saved me” You said and with that Peter ran up to you in record time and wrapped his arms around you letting himself sob into your neck.
“Hey, it’s okay I’m here, I’m right here Peter” You said blinking back your own tears as you let the poor boy cry his heart out in front of you.
His sobs had eventually died down and he cupped your cheeks with his hands before connecting your lips with his. His lips were salty from the tears that had previously been pouring down them and he kissed you like his life depended on it.
“I thought I lost you” He mumbled when you had finally pulled away his brown eyes staring down into your Y/E/C ones. “You’re never going too lose me Pete. I’ll always be right here” You smiled resting your head on his chest.
He let his lips linger on the top of your head before you both made your way to his bed were you fell asleep in each others arms promising to never leave each other, ever.
Helplessness is watching a person you care deeply for deteriorate right before your eyes without having the means to help them.
Desperation is shouting for hours and hours at the top of your lungs for help until your voice is raw and throbbing.
Defeat is knowing that there’s nothing you can do. You’re stuck and forced to live day after day in a small, cold cell. Whatever hope of help coming is replaced with a numbness, a slow realization that this is how your life will end.
Keith blinks back into reality at Lance’s weak, raspy voice. The latter is using his lap as a pillow, and Keith glances down to meet the brunet’s eyes.
“I’m not.” Keith answers, and despite Lance’s ashen face colored only with a deep flush across his cheeks, the brunet’s face lights up as a breathy laugh escapes.
“You literally… pouted when you… said that.”
On instinct, Keith moves to purse his lips out into a pout, but he catches himself and breathes out a low sigh instead.
He tilts his head back up to stare at the stone ceiling. How many days has it been now? Twelve, maybe? He lost track after Lance stopped eating, too worried to care about anything else but the brunet.
Landlock our land? Disrespect a solemn event in our lives...... Lose A TON of money.
This is going to be a long one so feel free to scroll down to the TL/DR.
My mother in law inherited approximately 50 acres of land seated by beautiful, well known lake. She recalls memories of camping, fishing, swimming, and having wonderful times with her (now deceased) brother and family. When she and her brother had children, they continued this tradition and created memories that my husband, to this day, fondly remembers.
Her land was located about 5 miles from the main highway and you have to drive through another property owner’s land to get to the land. They never had a problem going to and from her property when the previous owners owned the land.
In 1995, a local family purchased the land that led into the family property. The current land owner (who will now be known as “SOB”) told my husband that they could no longer enter my MIL’s land. My husband basically begged the land owner for access to the family property. He even volunteered to pay a yearly fee to be able to drive through an easement to get there. The SOB was adamant. NO.
When they finally bring him home (once all the paperwork is approved, several months after Raymond found him abandoned at a crime scene), Jacob crawls over to Cheddar’s bowl and chokes on a dog biscuit. Kevin is frantically trying to explain the situation to a 911 dispatcher when his husband calmly announces he’s successfully performed the Heimlich maneuver. The moment of panic over, Jacob babbles loudly, grins, and places a slobbery hand on Raymond’s face.
When he enters 4th grade (at the private school Kevin had chosen for its exemplary curriculum, prime student-to-faculty ratio, and exquisite lunch program; and Raymond had chosen for its safe and secure environment), Jacob is sent to the principal’s office for punching Keith Pembroke in the face. Initially, his fathers are confused because he had always been excellent at responding to bullies – they had made sure to brief him on what he might hear, being the adopted son of two gay men. When they find out he had reacted to a slur Keith had used against another student, and when the administrators still insist on punishing Jacob for his actions, Raymond and Kevin gladly move their child to a nearby public school.
When he first gets his heart broken (on the day of his bar mitzvah, which Raymond and Kevin had dedicated a year planning for), Jacob locks himself in a closet and cries for over an hour. Raymond is offended their hard work went unappreciated, but Kevin ignores his complaints and instead knocks on the door and gently coaxes Jacob to let him in. After another 15 minutes of sobbing against his father’s shoulder, he croaks out a semi-coherent explanation involving Jenny Gildenhorn, Eddie Fung, and stupid love songs. Kevin cheers him up by making his favorite breakfast for dinner and recounting the greatest love stories in Greek mythology.
When he arrests a perp for the first time (after spending every summer at CSI camp, joining the junior police program, and finally completing his academy training), Jacob pays his fathers a visit in his newly acquired secondhand Mustang. Kevin is appalled he made such an impulsive purchase, especially after everything they had taught him about saving money. Raymond tries to hold back tears of pride as Jacob points out the dent that formed when he had thrown the guy against the car.
When he falls in love for realz (with his partner, Amy Santiago – and honestly, Raymond had seen this coming since eight-year-old Jacob started pulling her pigtails at CSI Camp), Jacob’s fear of commitment almost screws up their relationship. Kevin had always been the one to help him navigate his girl and boy issues, but this time, Raymond sits him down and tells him about how they first got Gertie. It’s a story Jacob has heard once or twice before, but it still pushes him to sell the crappy Mustang they had been fighting about and purchase a brand new, fuel-efficient, crash-tested (and interestingly) family-friendly car.
Raising Jacob isn’t easy, but hot damn, it sure is worth it.
“Hey,” Michael says, looking at him with a grin. They’re sitting next to each other in front of the tv, controllers in their hands. Jeremy turns to look at Michael who’s facial expression betrays no emotion. Michael tilts his head to the side, opens his mouth and without moving his lips says, “You’re on my side right?”
Jeremy immediately gets the sinking feeling that there’s something terribly wrong but he can’t understand why. “Yeah of course dude.” He swallows, he doesn’t know why it comes out so monotone. “We’re never not gonna be a team.”
The scene changes and he’s in the mall. There’s a hand on his shoulder and he doesn’t have to look to know who it is. What it is, his mind supplies for him. He looks anyway, The Squip is looking down on him, it seems to be larger than it ever was before and suddenly Jeremy can’t move.
You’re nothing without me.
The words echo in his head, it’s the Squip’s voice but the Squip next to him doesn’t seem to be talking. It just stares, eyes boring down into him while putting pressure on the hand still on Jeremy’s shoulder. He want’s to shrug it off, wants to step away, run as far as he can get, but his feet won’t obey him. He’s stuck in place, he can’t even turn his eyes away from the Squip’s gaze.
You’re terrible. Horribly pathetic.
He wants to slump down, look down at his feet avoid those empty eyes, but whatever force is keeping him in place won’t even let him do that. His back is straight and he’s staring right back at the Squip. The pose does nothing to mimic how he’s feeling and that loss of control makes him want to scream.
You have one redeeming factor in your life Jeremy Heere and you don’t deserve it.
He wants to scream. Cry. Yell. Do something to make it stop. He knows what’s coming next and he doesn’t want to hear it, would rather hear anything else in that moment than what the Squip is about to tell him.
Sweet Michael. He stood by your side while you were busy pushing him into it. All alone. Completely ignored. What a wicked way to treat your favorite person Jeremy.
“You… made me do that.” Whatever spell is upon him seems to loosen it’s hold. He can’t move, can’t turn his head away but he can speak. Speak words he doesn’t truly believe, but words nonetheless. “Made me…Michael…” he whimpers. Suddenly the Squip’s grip is gone and he’s no longer towering over Jeremy. It’s like he’s vanished into thin air and not three meters behind where the Squip was just standing is Michael. Jeremy slumps as though his strings have been cut, crashing down on his knees, feeling no pain. “Michael,” his voice is pleading but the expression on Michael’s face doesn’t tell him if he’s heard jeremy. “Michael,” he repeats and his voice is nothing more than a sob, “Michael I’m-” as if the word had been plucked off his tongue it’s gone. He tries again but it’s like he’s choking on it. Michael only watches him, does nothing but look down at where Jeremy is groveling in front of him.
You can’t fix this Jeremy. You were the one who ruined things in the first place and you can’t even do this simple thing.
He can’t tell if there are tears but he knows he’s crying, he knows he feels like his world is being torn apart. Michael hates him, and he can’t even begin to fix it. He’s repeating Michael’s name like a mantra, pleading with him to understand, to pick up on what he’s trying to say.
The next voice that echoes in his head isn’t the Squip’s.
You left me.
I was all alone.
He sobs until his throat is sore.
After everything we’ve been through-
He doesn’t know what he’s saying anymore, only knows he’s in pain. His chest hurts, he’s not sure if he can breathe, not sure if he deserves to.
-and now you can’t even say sorry.
You’re a monster Jeremy.
“Jeremy wake up.”
He startles awake to a rough shake of his shoulders. He grapples with the arms of whoever’s holding him down, his eyes refuse to focus on whats in front of him and it takes too long for him to return enough to his body to realize where he is and who’s with him.
“Michael…” he whispers hoarsely, and the tears return to him. Or maybe they never left. He looks up at Michael’s wide eyes, filled with fear and concern, and feels himself cry harder. Loud sobs tear out of his throat as he unwillingly relaxes his grip on Michael’s arms. In return Michael pulls away from Jeremy’s shoulders, now secure in the fact that Jeremy won’t hurt either of them. His hands hover uncertainly over Jeremy as if he’s unsure what to do.
“Jeremy…” he whispers softly, his voice is smooth and warm in all the ways Jeremy doesn’t deserve and the sobs that wreck his body become more frantic, until he feels like he can’t catch his breath.
“I’m sorry,” he wails and sees Michael’s own eyes filling with tears, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it wouldn’t let me say it but I’m sorry.” Michael stops hesitating and shifts closer, lays himself down next to Jeremy, so that they’re facing each other.
“I know,” he whispers, not trusting his voice, “I know you’re sorry, I hear you, I forgive you Jeremy.” He lets out a quiet sh sound and reaches up to stroke Jeremy’s hair and presses a kiss on top of his forehead. “You’ve already said you’re sorry, and I’ve already forgiven you, Jer. We’re good,” he reminds. He hushes softly when Jeremy starts to hiccup and forces his arm under Jeremy’s body so he can pull the other close. Jeremy responds by clutching the front of Michael’s pajama t-shirt and pushing closer so that he can nuzzle into Michael’s neck. His entire body is trembling with emotion and he’s still sniffling forcefully, but the sobs have stopped and he’s breathing okay now. Michael will take what he can get.
“I’m sorry…” Jeremy repeats again, his voice barely a whimper and Michael can feel his heart threatening to shatter. He swallows down the lump of emotion that swells up in his throat and only squeezes Jeremy’s body tighter.