Blood & Bone Oneshots

just like old times || 1

dedicated to Tencutepuppies

to start this chapter off-- i messed up my finger and now i have a metal splint on it alsO long story but i cut my eye & eyebrow with glass and honestly i'm feeling like i'm becoming jaxon & jake i'm ready to join the crew fr

also third update this month????? the grind 😤

enjoy!

D E L P H I N I U M

We were on an ONNT mission in France.

Arlo rang the doorbell. When there was no immediate answer, he impatiently reached out to press it again, but Jaxon glared at him and hit his hand away from the button.

"You just rang it."

Arlo made a face at him. "They're not answering."

"They won't if you keep ringing the bell."

He made a sound of disbelief before crossing his arms. A moment later, a young woman with light blonde hair opened the door. I noticed how suspicious she looked with the sleeves of her long white dress pulled over her wrists, and her arms were close to her body.

"Bonjour. Êtes-Vous ici avec quelque chose concernant mon père?" She asked us. Not knowing what she was saying or how to respond, we all looked uneasily at each other. Finally, Kane answered.

"We're from the ONNT," he said slowly.

The woman nodded. "Ah, l'ONNT." That seemed to be the only thing that she understood from all that he said. "Avez-vous un message de leur part?"

"I don't think she speaks English," Arlo said to us.

"I'm glad you figured that out." Jake scoffed.

Someone came up behind her. He was short, with brown hair. "Salut, Amélie. Nous avons des visiteurs?" His gaze switched to us. Then, in accented English, he said to us, "Hello. You must be from the ONNT."

Someone breathed an audible sigh of ease that someone spoke English.

"Yes," Kane said, relieved.

Amélie mumbled something in French, and the man replied something back to her. Feeling our suspicious eyes on her, she turned to us. "Mais, vous êtes tous si petits."

"She says that you are so small. To be working for the government," He clarified. "I am Louis. This is Amélie Couture. Please come in." Louis stepped aside, for us to reluctantly enter the large modern home.

The interior of the house was just as extravagant as the exterior, if not more. There were two staircases, each laid down with red carpeting.

"Come." Louis led us to the room where Antoine Couture presumably killed himself but seemed more of a staged murder. He was an older, wealthy man that had a late wife and two children. He had no reason to commit suicide.

We crossed the yellow tape around the crime scene and peered down at the body. Antoine lay in a puddle of scarlet, a gun clutched in his hand. And, in the side of his head, lay a bleeding gunshot wound.

Amélie whispered something that we couldn't understand and with apologies, Louis escorted her away. She looked very nauseous at the sight of her father's body.

I bent down, carefully making sure not to touch anything. "This wasn't a suicide."

"How do you know?" Gigi asked.