It's honestly been way too long! I sincerely apologize for dropping off of the face of the earth. I completely lost interest in what I was doing, and therefore couldn't find the inspiration to continue any of my works. However, recently, I've re-watched the entire ADJL series for the first time in a couple of years, and needless to say, I've rediscovered why I fell in love with it in the first place.

There's something so enchanting about it. Not just the idea of magic and humans turning into dragons (which is brilliant by the way), but the humor and the characters and god Jake and Rose! I could live to be 100 and not be over that Homecoming episode I swear!

Anyway, I can't promise that I'll upload anything to this account again, but I won't rule out the possibility. Something always draws me back to this show or to this particular couple. It seems like no matter how many OTPs I accumulate (and trust me…there are a lot…ask Noble6 about my crazy Eremika obsession) Jake and Rose are irreplaceable. Somehow they will always be my number one. I guess your first OTP is like your first love- it's the one you never forget!

So, in addition to dedicating this to my longest running otp (it'll be nine years tomorrow actually…please don't ask me how I know this, but the first day I watched ADJL was June 10th the year I was eleven) I am dedicating this to all of the wonderful people I met in this fandom and on this website.

So, noble6, jakeross2, BlueserDragon, Major Simi, SapphireDragon, Hezpeller, Fudogg, TrickedPast, Luiz4200, Onej6, Flowerstar, and ViCtOrIoUsGaL41822- this one is for you! I'm so glad I met each and every one of you, AND that I've had the privilege of staying in touch with some! I know I've talked to three of you within the last week, and if that's not the coolest thing ever then I don't know what is!

I have no idea who will be reading this anymore, but I hope you enjoy it! I've had the file sitting on my computer for a couple months, so someone might as well read it. Also, a slight warning, this is so fluffy that I'm actually somewhat ashamed. I hope you like fluff!

Thanks for your support and best wishes!

-Ada

XX

Stay

"Tell me where she is," the Huntsman said, swinging the whip in front of the young boy's face, "and I'll let you fly free like the coward you are."

Jake eyed the weapon fearfully, mentally cursing himself for getting himself into this situation in the first place.

He groaned, trying his best to ignore the pulsing pain in his stomach, where he had been kicked repeatedly. He had lost all feeling in his wrists as the merciless metal cuffs had hindered proper circulation. The chains restricting him were reinforced with sphinx hair, rendering him completely powerless and confining him to his human form. He could feel the blood crusted at the corners of his mouth, where he had been punched an hour prior, and judging by the vast array of knifes, weapons, and torture devices so kindly displaced in front of him, Jake deduced that this wasn't going to be over anytime soon.

His thoughts were interrupted, however, by another forceful kick to the gut. Jake let out a muffled grunt before the pain sent him into a fit of coughing.

A forceful hand grabbed his face and yanked it upward, forcing his eyes to meet the cold, emotionless ones directly in front of him.

"I asked you a question, boy," the Huntsman spat, raising the whip above his head. "Now, tell me where she is or else I'll-"

"No."

His enemy looked down on him angrily, clearly surprised by his persistence and disobedience.

"Torture me all you want," Jake spoke harshly between closed teeth. The hatred in his own voice almost scared him. "I'll never tell you."

"Why you little-"

"Never."

It only took seconds for the Huntsman to stride around him, lift the weapon, and whip it down forcefully on Jake's bare back.

"Gah!" He screamed, already bracing himself for the next hit. He could feel the tears spilling out the corners of his eyes as the whip came down on his back over and over and over and god he just wanted this all to end.

But it couldn't. Not if it meant she wouldn't be safe.

His eyes scrunched shut, flashes of pain pulsing through his entirely body. He could feel the blood trickling down his back, staining the smooth, pure tan of his skin. He could feel the cold air of the chilled, eerie room drafting over the deep cuts along his back. He imagined what it looked like. The hateful strokes etched into his skin in every which way, red with blood dripping freely off his back, splattering onto the white tile floor. The wound, crusted black with dried blood and purple with bruises.

And the image sent his stomach churning. He felt the bile rising in throat before vomiting the remaining contents of his stomach. But it didn't stop there. Jake continued to heave, thick blood oozing out of his mouth.

All of a sudden he felt incredibly dizzy. His head felt like it weighed as much as the rest of his body combined, and his vision had begun to blur around the edges. The cold air against his wounds burned, and he just didn't know how much more of this he could take.

"You made a mess, dragon," the Huntsman said, lowering the weapon. His voice didn't betray a single hint of sympathy.

Jake shuddered from the pain, searching for his voice. Somehow, he couldn't even remember how to speak. Finally he released a strangled cry, allowing the tears to spill.

"Did I make you cry, boy?" His enemy taunted. "Well, there's plenty more where that came from. Unless you're willing to talk."

Jake had never felt so pathetic. Bleeding, crying, vomiting in front of his enemy. And god he'd never felt so broken. He wasn't sure if it was the pain, fear, cold, or a combination, but he had begun to shiver uncontrollably.

"Y-you…" he stuttered, desperately trying to sound unbroken. "You do-don't kn-n-n-now a th-thing about lo-lo-love, do you?"

The Huntsman looked surprised, something Jake fond to be a small victory somehow. Finding the strength to flash his signature cocky grin, he suddenly found the courage to speak.

"I've already won," he said. "Because you can beat me and whip me and kick me down until I'm bleeding and coughing up blood, but you will never get the information you need out of me."

The Huntsman let out an irritated growl. Jake knew he was growing impatient.

"I love her," he continued, "and I swear on my life that I will never let you so much as look at her as long as I'm living."

At first, it appeared he had rattled his enemy. But then, the cold, glaring scowl of the Huntsman slowly morphed into something new. Jake felt his heart drop at the way his lips curved upward into a sinister smile and the way his eyebrows lifted with the thought of a new idea.

"Oh, that's cute, dragon," he said, leaning in so their faces were merely inches apart. "You think she loves you."

"I know she loves me!"

"Oh, really?" The Huntsman turned, his back now facing Jake. "Would you like to know the funny thing about love?"

Jake remained silent, waiting for his enemy to "enlighten" him.

"It really isn't blind," he continued, "and who could ever love a disgusting, slimy, scaly, dirty, abnormal, atrocious monster like you?"

"Rose loves me for who I am!" Jake shot back, feeling his composure slipping away. "She doesn't care what I look like. Dragon or human."

"Listen to you," the Huntsman replied condescendingly, "you are a disgrace. Creatures like you don't even belong on this earth."

The words almost cut him deeper than the weapons had. It couldn't be true. The Huntsman was just messing with his mind. Rose loved him. She always had. She'd loved Jake. Not the hero or anything else he pretended to be. Just Jake.

"Do you really think," the older man began slowly, "that you deserve her?"

Jake let the words dissolve into his skin, feeling them shoot through his veins like acid. Did he deserve her? Did he? Rose, the smart, caring, beautiful young woman he loved so much. She was so perfect. And Jake…well he was just a-

"Monster," the Huntsman spat.

Monster. Monster monster monster.

The word ran over and over again through his dizzy, unstable mind.

"However," the Huntsman interrupted his thoughts, running his finger along the sharpened blade of a knife, "in your human form at least, you're a relatively handsome young man."

Jake whimpered as the Huntsman clenched his jaw forcefully between his strong fingers.

"Yes," he whispered, face inches from his own, "you're very handsome. Maybe that's why she pretends to love you so much…"

"Stop," Jake whimpered, "please, just…stop."

"Ahh, resorting to begging I see," he snickered. "How pathetic."

Jake felt the inevitable tears streaming down his bloodstained cheeks once more. He just wanted this to end. He just wanted to die.

"Let's see if we can fix that face of yours, huh boy?" The Huntsman continued, raising the knife to his temple.

Jake closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath as the Huntsman pressed the blade into his skin. Thick droplets of blood slid down his cheeks tauntingly before Jake felt the knife slash through his skin.

"Gah!" He cried out. He could hear the blood rapidly hitting the floor. He'd lost so much already. He was so tired and dizzy that he didn't know how much longer he could retain consciousness.

From what he could tell, the wound extended from his temple along the far side of his cheek and down to his chin, where he could feel the ghost of the once present knife and the blood falling from his face.

"I'll give you one last chance, dragon," the Huntsman grabbed him by the neck, "where is the girl? Tell me where she is," he threatened, holding up the bloodstained knife, "or this will be your dying breath."

Finally. Jake smiled peacefully. He had run out of patience. He only had a couple seconds left to suffer before this would all be over. Still, he wouldn't let his last words be in vain.

"I won't tell you anything, you bastard."

The Huntsman growled, punching him one last time in the face before lifting up the knife.

"Have it your way, dragon," he spat, eyes raging with fury. "Any last words before I send you to hell?"

Jake breathed out shakily, forcing his lips into a twisted grin. "I'll meet you there someday, you son of a bitch."

But then, Jake registered a voice. A different voice from the cold, uncaring one of the Huntsman. No, this one was frantic and….shouting his name? Jake had become so light-headed that he wasn't even sure what was real anymore.

"Jake! NO!"

A flash of blue scales. Hot flames of fire.

"Grandpa?"

But he was two seconds too late. The Huntsman had been knocked unconscious, but not before sinking the knife deeply into Jake's side.

His mind was reeling, eyes glazed with the tears of impending death. Through his distorted thoughts, he noted that someone had broken the chains on his hands, which were now they moving instinctively toward the knife.

And with all the strength he had left, he pulled it out, registering the clank of metal hitting the ground and the screams of his saviors before the blackness consumed him.

"JAKE!"

XXXX

At first, there was blackness.

He could feel himself floating in and out of consciousness, but every time he tried to open his eyes, they would only flutter. The weight of unconsciousness immediately pulled them back down.

Then came awareness.

He could feel something cold and gel like pressing into his back. His body was being supported by some sort of mattresses, and his head was propped up onto a stiff pillow.

"Where," he thought, "where am I? How did I get here?"

He tried to open his eyes once more, the light from an open curtain quickly blinding him before his eyelids fell shut once more.

"What happened?" He thought groggily. "Think, Jake…"

The Huntsman. He had been captured and tortured. All because the Huntsman wanted to find-

"Rose," he whispered harshly, the word hardly audible. He hardly recognized his own voice.

Slowly and patiently, he finally forced his eyes to open, allowing them to adjust to the light before scanning the hospital room.

Sure enough, his eyes fell upon the girl he'd almost given his life to protect, fast asleep in a chair next to his hospital bed.

Her head, cradled in her own arms, rested on the edge of his mattress. Waves of messy blonde hair were splayed across the off white sheets, and her sleeping face, which was tilted towards him, held evidence of distress.

He could see the tear tracks stained against the porcelain skin of her cheeks and the dark, baggy circles underneath her eyes, signaling that this was probably the first time she had slept in days. Her full, pink lips were cracked and dry, and if her eyes had been open, Jake was sure he would find the brilliant cerulean of her irises surrounded by a blood-shot red.

He sighed, releasing the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding in. She was safe. Granted, she looked like emotional wreck probably thanks to him, but she was okay. He was okay. They were both going to be okay, and someday this would just be one more obstacle that they had overcome together.

Slowly, he extended a shaky hand and stroked the top of her head reassuringly. And God he wanted to talk to her. To tell her that he was fine and hold her and kiss her. But looking down at her now, sleeping for probably the first time in days, he just couldn't bring himself to disturb her.

So he continued to stroke the long, waves of blonde hair soothingly. Occasionally, he reached out to squeeze the hand that rested on the edge of his bed, silently relishing in her presence.

"I love you, Rose," he whispered.

And he cursed mentally when he felt her stir underneath his touch.

With a groan, her eyes fluttered open, revealing the exact shade of red Jake had imagined. Slowly, she lifted her head up, hair falling messily over her sleepy face. Jake noted that she might have looked cute this sleepy had she not appeared so distressed.

Her eyes widened in surprise when they met his, open and gazing back into hers. Upon seeing her awake, he felt his lips curve naturally up into a smile.

"I didn't mean to wake you," he said, his weakened voice just hardly above a whisper.

"Jake,"

She starred at him for a moment, blinking once before bursting into tears.

Instinctively, he reached out and pulled her up into his arms, ignoring the pain shooting through his entire body. It hurt like hell, but he had done it for her after all. He had done it so that he could hold her like this again and again. With that thought, the pain became irrelevant.

"Sweetheart," he whispered, "please don't cry. It's gonna be okay," he assured her, leaning in to brush his lips against her forehead. "I'm okay, you're okay…it's all gonna be fine. I promise."

"Oh," she choked in between sobs, "oh my God, Jake! You were nearly dead! We…we thought you were dead!"

Pulling her even closer, he noticed that she was shaking uncontrollably. He'd never seen Rose so shaken in his entire life, and it honestly scared him. She was crying so hard that she was hardly breathing. On top of that, he knew she was exhausted. He honestly wouldn't have been surprised if she had lost consciousness right then.

"I'm so, so sorry," she cried, burying her head into his neck. "I'm so sorry."

"Hey," he spoke softly, "hey none of this is your fault. None of it," he rubbed her back up and down reassuringly. "Our relationship comes with risks. We've always known that, but we're both okay. You can breathe now."

He held her for a few minutes longer before the sobs faded into silent tears trickling down her porcelain cheeks, but she didn't stop shaking.

"Rose?" He finally spoke, voice weak with pain. "Will you do something for me?"

"Anything," she whispered, nuzzling her cheek into his chest. He sighed in contentment at the way it felt pressed up against his beating heart.

"I need you to sleep," he said. Slowly, he bent down to kiss the lingering tears away from her cheeks. "Please," he added, "I didn't endure five hours in a torture chamber to save your life only to have you take poor care of yourself."

He meant it slightly as a joke, but he could see that she took his words to heart. She thought silently for a moment before the desperate, near inaudible whisper of her voice broke his heart.

"I don't want to leave."

No, she wouldn't leave, and he didn't want her to. He needed her to stay with him. Sleep right here with him, her ear pressed up against his heart, blonde hair splayed across his chest. He needed the warmth of her body pressed up against him, arms wrapped around him lovingly…reassuringly. They would sleep here together until the day turned to night and back again, and maybe when they woke, the warm light from the morning sun would dance across their faces, and she'd trace her lips against the soft skin of his bare chest.

Maybe…

Maybe the rest of their lives could be like that.

He bent down, brushing his lips against her forehead lovingly.

"Then stay."

XX