lynch2942
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he's living with archie but there's only a few suburban walls between his life with fred andrews and a life in prison and his heart is counting the closing distance every day, frantically beating out the inevitability of his conviction, the passing of time bringing him ever closer to the day the sheriff shows back up at the door, noose in hand.
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Mickey gets out of prison six months after being arrested for a crime he didn't actually commit. Things are going... well, they're going. Until he runs into Ian.
The universe sure has a funny way of flipping his life upside down.
canon divergent from 6x02
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When he wakes and didn’t realize he was asleep, he’s still got Mickey in his grasp, and it’s the normal time, twenty minutes ’til lights on, and he’s still slotted against Mickey and Mickey’s boxers are still wadded around his thighs and he’s right there. Leaning into his furnace fired skin to press scorching kisses against his neck, his shoulder, waiting for that crusty whispered, “good morning,” before he lets his hands wander. Savoring every single second of that twenty minutes. Nineteen minutes, before they have to get up and put on their prison faces. Eighteen minutes when he’s sliding into Mickey’s heat. Seventeen minutes when he’s kissing his ear and whispering, “I’ll wait.”
Sixteen minutes when Mickey is turning his head and he’s stealing his lips. Fifteen minutes when he’s breathing against his breath and loving the underlying flavor that is unmistakably Mickey.
Twelve minutes when he thinks he could slip under Mickey’s skin and stay there forever. Eleven minutes when he feels the first tear leave a salt slick down his cheek. Ten minutes when Mickey’s fingers link with his on his belly. Nine minutes when he whispers, “I love you.”
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As a child, you would wait, and watch from far away…
Under the light of a full moon, six teenagers (two of them are almost there, it's close enough) infiltrate the Pohuai Stronghold, attempting to liberate a pair of prisoners from the Fire Nation's grasp. The Air Nomads have stayed out of the war. The Earth Kingdom is falling. The Water Tribes are separated, seemingly scattered. The Avatar has been missing for decades.
All the same, their attack on Pohuai kicks off a series of events that most people could have predicted--Sokka, namely--as life has a way of kicking their asses without a care in the universe. They're that kind of people, the kind who are ragtag, who drag each other in and out of fights, who live one day at a time because it's a war, a war they grew up with. A war they don't want to die fighting, but they will if it comes down to it, because the next generation won't live through this. They refuse.
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