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voice-of-barsoom · 2 years ago

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Fictober Prompt "Nobody warned you about me?" Pacific Rim AU

(Featuring @tangleweave 's Phil Coulson, with permission.)

Pan Pacific Defense Force / Los Angeles Shatterdome Jaeger: Ares Stingray Pilots: Dejah Carter (hiatus), John Carter (deceased) Status: In the final stages of refurbishment after a combat with category IV Kaiju, Ravatra, wherein Pilot John Carter met his end, ripped from the cockpit mid combat.

~~~

[ Personnel evaluation required. Jaeger pilot in previous good standing is experiencing psychological distress and exhibiting self-destructive behavior after the death of their co-pilot. Asset has decades of experience and would be a grave loss of institutional knowledge and skill should she be forced to retire. Pilot has resisted mandated trauma counseling and has resorted to self-medicating with alcohol. Other issues noted: sleep disturbances, aggressive behavior towards colleagues, and a casual attitude with authority. She is currently occupying the cockpit of Ares Stingray as living quarters, under the guise of 'repairs', but with the true motive to inhibit the final refit of the cockpit which would release the Jaeger back into the duty roster. Handle with care. - PPDF Psychological Officer, Maj. P. Coulson ]

The Marshal met him in the admin coffee lounge, file in hand. "You're up, Coulson."

"Sir." He read the file and saw his own handwriting in it. "Oh." As the base Psych Officer, the mental health and well being of their stable of high speed, hard charging pilots was his bread and butter. He frowned at the file, thumbing through it again, even though he knew it by heart.

"Problem?"

"Sir, this is — a delicate situation."

"Yes, yes it is. That's why you're up. She's been under your watch for six years now. You wrote her original psychological review."

"I did. But this…"

"Phil, I don't want to lose her. She's really good at what she does."

"She also just lost her drift partner. While in the drift. I don't know any jaeger pilot that could come back from that. By all rights, she should have died right there with him. Forget the physical scars she bears now. The survivor's guilt alone is crushing her, not to mention the loss of a bonded partner."

"So you're saying we should just write her off?"

"No. No that's not what I'm saying at all. She's tough, I know that much. But this. This is a huge ask."

"Better get to it, then."

"Yes, sir." The Marshal nods and turns to go, but Coulson isn't done. "There's only one way for me to do this, you know that?"

"I don't care how you do it, just get it done, Major."

"Right. In that case, I need to tender my resignation."

~~~

He moved like smoke and thunder, dodging her strikes with the bo staff and shedding the blows that did land with the gentle motion of a reed in the wind, answering with no small power in return. He took her to the mat twice, before she came up red-eyed and snarling, swinging for his head. Her usual bouts lasted fifteen, maybe thirty seconds, tops, and usually whoever fought her walked away with something bleeding. That was not happening today.

Today, she'd showed up to practice with the perennial dark cloud over her head. When faced with the familiar face of the base Psych Officer, she sneered, rolling her staff over the back of her hand and then around their body, like a scorpion brandishing their spike. "This isn't Arthur Murray, you know. It's a different kind of tango."

He didn't blink, just offered her a dark smirk. "I think I can handle it."

"Can you?" She grinned, a predatory look in her eye. "Let's find out."

A moment later, she struck, and she kept striking, expecting for wood to meet bone at any second. She was sorely disappointed. Instead of panicking like a first year cadet, he was calm and centered in the eye of her storm, answering her blow for blow. The bout stretched from seconds to minutes, and it was close. Everything she threw at him, he had an answer for. Blows echoed off the steel rafters, and a crowd began to form, everyone including the techs stopping their work to watch.

"Had enough?" He quipped, resetting as she came around for another pass. He'd just begun to break a sweat. She answered with a strike at his hand, one he barely fended off. "No? All right then." He stepped back gave the staff a little flourish. "I can do this all day."

Her eyes flashed and she charged. She ended up flat on her back, again. This time, she'd didn't sit up straight away. He stared down at her, wiping a forearm across his eyes to clear the sweat away.

"What's the matter, Princess? Nobody warned you about me?"

"You sit behind a desk. You push papers. You might play at this game," she growls, rolling herself up and standing, refusing to surrender. "This game is life and death to me. Kaiju don't boast. They just kill you." She circled around him, catching her breath and studying him as she went. He seemed to be anticipating her every move.

He smirked at her, knowing it would only stoke the emotion burning in her belly. "You've been through hell. Nobody here is denying that. But do you think John would approve of you today? Showing up late to practice, hungover, attacking cadets so you can feel superior?"

"Shut your damned mouth," she hissed. "You don't know anything."

"I know enough. You're hurting. And instead of doing the hard work to heal, you're trying to make others hurt, too. You won't find your solution that way, Princess."

A war cry tore from her throat and she launched herself at him again. Again, she ended up ass over tea kettle, with his boot on her wrist. "You're only hurting yourself. I don't have to tell you that."

"Who gives you the right to stand in judgment? If you're here to give me the boot, fucking get it over with." Her voice broke and with it, the crowd that had gathered sensed a desperate need to be elsewhere. Pilots were known for working out their issues on the mat, and nobody could judge them for that. Not when they were the only people standing between them and planetary annihilation.

Phil offered Dejah his hand and she glared at him, not even looking at it.

"I have to judge you. It's my job. Or it was until this morning, when I tendered my resignation." That made her blink. Was he here to enter the pilot program? The facts quickly reshuffled behind her eyes. He kept talking, like a horse whisperer soothing a fractious young colt. "I know you're not stupid. And I think you know we're drift compatible." He spoke quietly, his hand still extended. "I also think you know a lifeline when you see it."

Dejah licked her dry lips, her fierce gaze not relenting for a moment. "You have a lot of nerve, talking to me like that."

"Somebody needed to say it, Princess." For the third time, he gestured for her to take his hand. Was she going to be too proud to acknowledge his new status on her team? What would that look like to all the other cadets here? She thought hard for a long moment, rage and grief boiling in her blood, and then slapped her hand against his forearm, letting him lever her up to standing. "Don't fucking call me that," she growled, and she separated from him with a little shove.

"There we go," he chided gently. "Why don't we shower and find some place quiet to talk. Say, the cockpit of the Ares Stingray?"

Her sanctuary. The last place she'd seen John alive. Her gaze fell to the mat and she had to steady her breath. Even not in the Drift, he could feel the waves of anguish the suggestion brought. "You're bringing the whiskey," she answered. A moment later, she stalked off towards the showers.

"Fair enough," he responded to her retreating back. To himself, he adds, "Not bad for a day's work. Not bad at all."

#tangleweave: coulson #fictober22 #au pacific rim

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mochikeiji · 4 years ago

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Rockabye, My Love

↠ Pairing: Akaashi Keiji x Reader

↠ Warning: slight fluff, soft father/daughter moments, angst. Trigger Warning: mentions of death, depression.

↬ Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: Every lyrics had a deeper meaning in them than just words that'll fit a song. Yours was heavier than anyone could think of, and Akaashi was singing it to his beloved baby girl.

↣ a/n: ohayo world! I'm sorry for late posts, expect the upcoming ones soon. School was giving too much works again. Thank you all for loving my Day 2 fic in Akaashi Week!! Also, the lullaby in this lyrics is the same tune as Isabella's Lullaby from The Promised Neverland.

⇢ Day 3: Single Parent AU

"Love, don't you worry too much,

You're doing fine.

You are the most precious thing I have loved.

I will never allow the cruel world to take you— away nor hurt you any more.

I will sing you this song when the world, caves on.

You'll be fine, I will never leave you.

You are the most beautiful thing that has came.

I will protect you forever, my love."

Life is difficult in many ways. It's either we were born different, have lost someone dear or have lost ourselves. It's no wonder how millions of people from all around the world, evert second, minute, hour— someone gives up on everything. It was cruel, disturbing, most of all heart breaking.

Akaashi never understood your true intentions. He was one hundred percent sure he had kept an eye on you at all cost. He's made you smile brighter, he's understood you more than anyone. He made you feel alive.

Yet now you ended up being dead to your own inner demons.

He remembers coming home after receiving good news from his company. He had received a promotion and a week off just for you. That was when the hospital had contacted him. He can recall his ragged breathing when he was allowed to place a foot in your room. Your monitor beating in an ever agonizingly slow rhythm, he knew it wasn't normal and immediately ran to your side.

He wanted to yell, scream, ask you why, why did you do this to yourself but he couldn't, not when you looked at him so scared and weak. The doctors had told him that he had only a few minutes with his wife, the drugs you've intake was too much, not everything was removed nor pumped out of your system. Akaashi never felt so depressed in all his life after that situation as he buried himself into your chest, listening to your lullabies that soon died down along with the light in your eyes.

That was the only reminisces he's had with you,the lullaby you would sing to yourself as a teen who strived to survive the world, a lullaby for his anxieties and own demons to be tamed, and the last thing you ever said. He was happy that over the years before your death, you had given him a customized music box that had the right notes of your song, only this time no one was singing it.

Fingers tapping anxiously on his work table, Akaashi started to fiddle with his thumb and then his index, losing his focus despite looking at the same drafted page lit up on his computer screen. He kept eyeing the pack of cigarettes that was just on the edge of his window— he needed one right now. Cigarettes were the last options he has for when he couldn't calm his beating heart or let his emotions out. But he knows how wrong it was to be damaging his health, and he knows he's going to get an earful from Bokuto since he visits his apartment every weekend. Even if Akaashi tries to hide his dirty deeds, Bokuto wasn't stupid to read through his eyes like before.

Foot was starting to bounce, his eyebrows were beginning to furrow, as if he was irritated, in trouble, or something. It wss getting harder for him, who wouldn't after losing their wife? The person he's loved since his teen years, the one he's vowed to never make her feel like how she did in the past. He failed you. He blames himself for all that matter, if he's added more precautions, maybe you'd still be here.

He bites his lips and whimpers, hands ruffling through his tossled hair and holding his head as his elbows were supporting him on the table. Everything was closing in once more, the walls to his workspace became suffocating, how he wishes one of his friends or yours would come knocking at his door even though it was already 2:30 am knowing how reckless he's getting. He swore he wasn't going to die sooner as you did. He promised to himself to let you and his memories live on, because once he dies, no one will ever remember the battles you've fought for, the good things you've done to many, and the love you've shared with him throughout the years.

"It's so hard without you, love.."

Eyes finally cracking with tears behind his glasses, he lets them stream down his face with his body shaking on his chair. Soon enough he was bound to get another headache from extreme emotion and will probably lay the whole day about it. But none of that mattered to him anymore.

He just wanted you back.

But his cries weren't the only ones that can be heard in his apartment.

Jolting up to realization, he carelessly wipes away his tears with his sleeves and tumbles our of his chair straight to his room. His heart was beating fast in worry and adrenaline, he thought the source of the crying in his room had been taken away or worse.

But it turns out, it was just his little baby girl crying in lonliness.

As he got closer, her cries were getting deafening, but he didn't mind. Not when his heart was swooning with guilt when he thought of giving up and caving to his own needs when he's forgotten he has a reason to continue on.

With the night lamp on at the side of her crib and his bed, he cooes at the sobbing baby with sweet nothings to catch her attention. Th cries immediately died down and replaced with sniffles and the baby looking up hazily at the dark figure above her.

Smiling, Akaashi carefully picks her up from the crib to cradle her on his chest. Giving her small pats on her back with hush whispers when he feels her stretch on his body.

"Shhh, I'm sorry, were you lonely?"

Grabbing on the string of his lamp shade on the nightstand, he pulls the string, allowing more light to glow in his room, and for his little girl to finally see that she wasn't alone anymore. Akaashi swayed gently as he remained in eye contact with the baby, smiling ever so slightly at the unreadable expression his daughter was possessing and played with her fingers.

"Maybe I should work with you around, you never really like it in the dark, do you, baby?"

His little girl cooes at him, curious of what language he was speaking to her and hopes he understood what she was saying as well. Akaashi's heart swelled at the adorable sound and nuzzled his face softly on her stomach, the baby still confused as ever but just clenches her hands in wonder.

His anxieties and thoughts disappearing in the air whilst he sat down on his bed and held his baby near to where his hesrt was beating. The same day you died, was the same day you had given birth. It was a miracle for the baby to be healthy despite what you had intake. He remembers after your announced death, the nurses had to usher him out, but only to drag him into another room where lies a bassinet and a couple of IV's attached and treatments.

When he got closer, his world was shaken that day. The sight of you and his baby alive and now existing after 9 months of waiting was there right before his eyes. But his heart broke at the thought of him being the only one to raise her, and her not having to meet her beloved mother. He was so emotional that day that he almost lost it when he realizes why she was kept in there and why there were so much stuff in this room. He didn't want to think thag he was losing another one when he had just met her.

The nurses explained that there was nothing wrong with the baby, just taking further check ups and to ensure she was absolutely healthy. He was already been forced outside your room that no longer held light, he wasn't going to leave the room where his daughter was until he holds her in his arms where he knows she'll be at the safest.

As time went by to now, Akaashi feared her growing up in the future. She resembled mostly to you. She was a dead carbon copy of you and he was terrified she'd experience what you have as history might repeat itself. The very thought of his daughter having something inside her little head without telling him scares him, Akaashi knew how cruel the world can be and hoe each second in life matters because we are unaware of the deaths happening at those time.

He prayed his baby girl wouldn't go through what you did as a child and carry it until she grows up. He hopes and believed in his own strength that he wasn't going to fail her this time— that there will be no person by her side and will lovd and protect her other than her daddy.

His tears blocking his vision of her as he held her tightly. He whimpers at remembering his thoughts earlier. He wanted to curse himself from thinking of leaving his daughter to fend for herself in this world and to find a way to be back to you. But he knows he was still with you, your daughter was the last love you could ever give him and he was going to love her more than anything.

The trembling of his body stops when his baby started to cry and squirm in his hold. Her whimpers breaking his heart when he couldn't solve her distress, it seemed like she was in pain and he knew this situation like in the past.

"Shh, shh, I'm here. I'm always here. I'm sorry."

Reciting out the same line he's used when he held you against his body that night. You cried and held a hand to your heart that day as he hugged you tighter. The demons inside you he had curse to go away and leave you alone. But they didn't.

An idea popped in his head and reached out inside his nightstand drawer. The little music box you have crafted for him still looked the same as it was before since it was taken with good care. He proceeded to wind it gently to let the soft tune play as he stood up once more to cradle his crying baby.

"Love, don't you worry too much,

You're doing fine."

He sings the first verse of the long memorized lullaby you sang for him. Using his thumb to wipe away the little tears that had escaped his daughters eyes. Her cries were stopped momentarily and were replaced by sniffles. Her dazed eyes making eye contact with her father's.

"You are the most precious thing I have loved."

Akaashi would be cringing thinking his voice was terrible, but the little girl in his arms seemed to be intrigued and loving the harmonized voice of her daddy and an unknown tune from the background.

His voice was smooth and soft. Completely out of character from his monotone one, but enough to capture the attention of someone.

"I will never allow the cruel world to take you— away nor hurt you any more."

He couldn't tell if he was singing the lullaby to her or he was making a silent vow to her. The lullaby you sang to him for the first time he tried searching for in the internet what the lyrics meant and who wrote it. Sadly, there were no results that came up that day.

And you never really told him how you got that song and who it was referring to in the lyrics.

But nevertheless, the lyrics could never be at the right time as it was now. It felt like he was reminding himself of what his role was from now on and what his daughter should always remember as she grows up.

No one was going to hurt her on her watch.

"I will sing you this song when the world, caves on.

You'll be fine, I will never leave you."

At the end of that line his voice cracks as he held back his own tears. He can hear only now your voice and hoe you would thread his hair during nights of distress. How he missed so many cracks of your voice from being too intrigued with the song. How he missed the fact that you needed him the most those nights of terror, yet you chose to make him feel secure and loved without leaving anything for yourself.

Slowly, his mind was connecting all the lyrics and your actions in his head. You were a self reliant person.

You sang this song in reminder that you were loved, beautiful and was protected by the few people that truly loved you. This song was meant to keep you alive.

To keep him going.

And now

It was a vow from him to his daughter.

"You are the most beautiful thing that has came."

Smiling sadly down to his baby now calmed down and listening intently to her daddy, Akaashi leans down to press kisses on her face with his tears sliding down.

He should've sang this to you when you needed it the most. A reminder of what you truly were to him. He hopes deep inside, somewhere up there or in his room you were listening. Listening to him remind you and his daughter— his world and universe, that he was going to be stronger and fulfill his own promises.

One day he was going to meet you in another life he believed, where he'd make you stay, where you and him will raise your little girl once again and he'll wake up next to you. Where he'll be the one singing this lullaby tune as he hold you both in his arms.

But for now, it was just going to be him and his baby girl.

"I will, protect you. Forever, my love."

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elliotlikespuke · 6 years ago

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Requesting a sick Nico? I don't care with what, I just want to boy to suffer. Please and thank you!

Hooooo boy I made him suffer. The good news about this is that it’s not likely contagious, but the bad news is that it’s probably bacterial meningitis. Normal flus don’t really cause this level of confusion. Boy was it fun to write this though. I really love the whole idea of “voyeurism” in terms of sickfics, having people watch a caretaker and a sickie, especially if the sickie would be embarrassed about it if they were coherent. Also I’m such such such a sucker for medic Will being a whole-ass medic and taking care of people in a practical way (not just a demigod magic kind of way).

You can probably tell that I’m hmmmm, pretty rusty at this whole “writing” thing.

Warnings: puke and rambling and reaaaaal rusty writing skills

“How long has he been like this?” Will’s voice rang out through the near-silent apartment. Nico was leaning on the back of the couch, either asleep or close to it. Sally sat on one side of him, Percy on the other. The Iris message was beginning to shimmer. Swearing, Percy threw in another drachma.

“This is the third day,” Sally replied. “Well, the third day of throwing up. He just had a fever and a headache before then.”

Nico’s head lolled to the side on the couch, almost touching Sally’s shoulder. She put an arm up to guide it the rest of the way down, petting his hair and checking his forehead as she went.

“He’s still burning up.”

“And he’s not keeping anything down?” Will’s voice was becoming tighter, more fraught with anxiety. He shifted on the desk chair he was sitting in.

“Nothing.” Will’s reaction was making it hard for him to stay calm. After all the danger Nico had dealt with, this was what had Will worried?

Will paused and looked towards something Percy couldn’t see. He mouthed something, and shook his head. “Uhh, okay. If he refuses to go to a hospital could you bring him here? I know it’s a long drive but I can only assume he’s dangerously dehydrated and—”

“We’ll do it,” Annabeth piped up from out of Will’s view. “It’s only a few hours. And we’ll speed.”

“Haul ass,” Percy agreed, nodding.

Will ran a hand through his hair. “Okay. I’ll see you soon.”

Percy took a moment to think. Nico was in bad shape, still leaning against his mom and looking as pale as Percy had ever seen him. Annabeth was practically vibrating, getting things ready for a two-hour car trip. Paul was standing between the kitchen and the living room, holding a handful of plastic bags in case Nico needed them. Sally, bless her, was running her hands through Nico’s hair with a decidedly worried expression painted across her features.

Percy caught his mom’s eye across the sofa.

“I’m coming with you,” she said. Percy was going to protest, but as soon as he opened his mouth she said, “and that’s final. It’s snowy, and I’m a better driver than both of you.”

For once, Annabeth didn’t complain about having her abilities questioned. Percy stood, and worked on getting Nico into a standing position. He hooked one of his arms around his shoulders and lifted. Nico was lighter than he expected. Between having no excess weight and having vomited for three days, he was rail thin.

Percy had never been gladder that his parents had moved to a building with an elevator. It made the eight-flight journey while half-carrying a 15-year-old easier for everyone involved. Navigating the snow was harder. Over Christmas, the sidewalks had hardly been plowed, making their trek to the car frustrating for both of them. Nico, who just wanted to lie down, moaned incoherently until he was in the backseat of Paul’s Prius with Percy buckling his seatbelt.

Nico fell asleep almost immediately once they were on the road, his head propped against the foggy window. The peace only lasted the first half hour.

Nico’s bleary eyes cracked open. His head fell to one side and then shot up straight, suddenly alert.

“‘m gonna throw up,” he murmured, his voice hoarse with sleep and sickness. He put one hand to his mouth and the other flailed, looking for one of the bags Paul had packed for them.

“Fuck! Hold on!” There was a rustling noise as Annabeth tried to free one of the bags from the tangle of them at her feet. Nico made a muffled, urgent sound against his hand and grabbed for the button on the car door. While his window rolled down, Sally slowed to a stop on the side of the highway. Before it was all the way down, Nico lurched. It was the closest to projectile vomiting he had come since he’d been sick. He barely managed to make it out the window while he sprayed sick from his chapped lips. He let his head fall, and it hung limply as he retched, painting the Prius with yellow bile. Between painful sounding retches, Nico gasped for air. The difficulty of simply breathing was audible.

Percy looked anywhere but beside him, unlike Sally, who was staring at Nico’s back with pursed lips.

“Pat his back,” she whispered to Percy. Percy was certain Nico was going to recoil at his touch. But then he didn’t. He continued to heave for another few minutes, with Percy rubbing his back. Even through the thick knit sweater (donated by Paul when Nico had started shivering with fever), Percy could feel every vertebra. Most horribly, he could feel Nico’s taut back muscles tensing, and hardly ever releasing long enough for him to relax.

When all was said and done, Nico brought his head back into the car and collapsed against the headrest.

“Sorry,” he whispered. His voice was broken by the gurgling is his throat. Annabeth passed him a water bottle from the front seat. “It won’t stay down.”

“I know, but it’ll get the taste out of your mouth.”

Nico fumbled with the cap for a moment before passing it to Percy, who cracked it with ease. Passing it back to Nico, he caught the blush on Nico’s cheeks. The needy, vulnerable Nico was new to both of them.

With Nico back in the car, they set off again. Nico kept his eyes closed, but Percy was fairly sure he was awake and trying to coax himself into not being sick again. The rapid movements of his Adam’s apple gave him away.

Percy wished they could turn on some music, or at least that he could join in Sally and Annabeth’s conversation, but they were speaking so quietly he could barely hear. The rest of the drive passed slowly with nothing to do but play games on his phone. Every few minutes, Nico would cough weakly, and Percy could hear the rattling breath in his lungs trying to escape. It was a pitiful sight.

Finally, they arrived at the base of the hill. Getting Nico out of the car was a harder matter altogether, and Percy had to wrap his hand in a plastic bag to avoid touching the bile now frozen to the door. Halfway up the hill, Kayla met them.

“Want some help?” She didn’t wait for an answer before she grabbed Nico’s other arm and helped Percy march him towards the infirmary. Sally and Annabeth were continuing their conversation behind him, though he couldn’t hear what they were saying over his and Kayla’s panting and the groans from the sick boy suspended between them.

Percy wondered idly if Sally had ever seen the infirmary. It had been updated even since Percy had last been there. Nico had told him it now boasted a tv that Will had fought for, claiming that boredom was pushing people out of the infirmary faster than they should be leaving. Percy suspected it was mostly for the staff’s benefit.

Despite the lack of snow inside the campgrounds, the wind was still biting. Nico had thrown off his coat in the car, and he shivered so violently Percy thought he might drop him.

Standing in the door of the infirmary was Will, his arms crossed over his chest to shield him from the cold. He wore blue scrubs, as he usually did when he was in the infirmary. The colour of the uniform set off his eyes, as did the red rim around them. The late hour seemed to hit Percy all at once. It was past midnight.

The group trudged over the threshold, and Kayla pulled Nico, and Percy with him, towards a bed. Will followed behind, trying his best to move with purpose and not look like a lost puppy.

“Hey guys,” Will greeted belatedly. “Merry Christmas.”

There was a chorus of ‘Merry Christmas’ around the infirmary, and Will turned to Sally.

“I’m Will, uh, by the way.”

“We iris messaged a few hours ago.” Sally smiled back at him. He looked temporarily embarrassed until Sally said, “but it’s good to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.”

“All good I hope?”

“All good.”

Will didn’t seem to hear the answer. Once Nico was lying in the bed, everything else seemed to fade away from Will’s vision. He strode over to the bedside to pull two rubber gloves from a box against the wall, and pulled over a rolling chair.

“Kayla can you get, uh, a one litre bag of saline and a secondary bag of acetaminophen drip? I’m going to do an IV.”

Kayla nodded, happy to be bossed out of the room. Behind the curtains was crowded, and she didn’t think she could stand an awkward meeting-the-family moment between her brother and his boyfriend’s aunt.

“Hey,” Will said quietly to Nico. He grunted, but didn’t open his eyes. Will pursed his lips. He seemed all too aware of the eyes of everyone on the back of him, and his neck prickled uncomfortably.

“Hey,” he tried again. “Can you open your eyes?”

Nico’s eyes fluttered open, and Will rushed to praise him. “Can you squeeze my fingers?”

Will slipped two of his fingers into Nico’s hand. Through the gloves he could feel how clammy they were. “Go ahead, break my fingers.” Nico smiled weakly and gave a watery cough. “There. You got it.”

Will brow was furrowed, but Nico’s was utterly relaxed for the first time since he’d begun vomiting. He pulled his fingers out of Nico’s hand and Nico whined. Everyone in the room, bar Nico and Will, glanced around uncomfortably. It seemed an intrusion to see them like this.

Will reached a hand into a drawer by the bedside and drew out an infrared thermometer. The infirmary had gained some new toys since Will had become head medic apparently. There was no chance these were Chiron’s ideas. The worry was palpable in Will’s voice when he announced to the room, “104.3. Has he had any fever reducers?”

“He threw up every time we tried to give him any.” Sally’s voice was taking on Will’s anxiety.

Kayla came back into the room, holding several clear bags of liquid. She deposited them easily on a tray and slid it beside Will, drawing over an IV pole.

“Get some cooling blankets.” Will’s voice had become harder, his medic side lashing out. He set to work cleaning the inside of Nico’s wrist and sliding a needle into a vein. His lower lip was held tightly between his teeth as he worked. Nico protested as valiantly as he could, which ended up being another whine and a slight shift of his arm, which was unable to move much in Will’s vice-like grip. He quickly arranged the IV tubing like he had done it a hundred times before which, Percy thought, he probably had.

“It’s a good thing he’s so out of it for that. He usually fights tooth and nail when he has to get a needle,” Will was saying as Kayla entered the room.

“Usually Will can’t do it himself because Nico needs him to hold his hand.”

“More like break my hand.”

The group smiled, except for Will, who remained as tightly wound as ever, staring at the tiny body on the infirmary bed. Kayla arranged the cooling blankets around Nico while Will turned to Percy, Annabeth, and Sally, who were still standing at the end of the bed holding their coats.

“Might as well sit down,” Will told them. “He’s going to be here for a while.”

Graciously, everyone sat down. While Will and Kayla debated over treatment options and tests, Sally looked at Nico. He was still sweaty, his eyelids fluttering now that Will was not touching him. She wondered just how long they’d been like this, able to calm each other with only a touch. Given reports by Percy and Annabeth, and vigorously refuted by Nico, it had been almost instantaneous from the moment they were friends. It was no surprise to Sally they had ended up together.

“He seems to know what he’s doing,” Sally whispered to Annabeth, who nodded.

“He’s got a gift. He modernized everything here. He’s doing good things.”

Sally realized something suddenly and interrupted Will mid-conversation with his sister.

“Why haven’t you given him any nectar or ambrosia?” She hadn’t meant for it to sound accusatory. Luckily Will, with all his preoccupations, didn’t seem to notice and took the question in stride.

“He shouldn’t consume anything orally until we get his stomach under control. Plus, it’s a fifty-fifty shot if those will work on sicknesses. They work great on injuries, but sometimes it’s not enough. That, and it raises your body temperature. Nico’s brain is already being boiled inside his skull, and to give him anything like that might give him permanent brain damage.”

Him and Kayla looked at each other quickly and without a word she handed him a pen from the pocket of her scrubs. Will pushed himself towards Nico and clicked the pen. For one stupid moment, Percy was sure it was going to turn into a sword. Instead, a bright light appeared on the end.

“Nico, can you open your eyes?” It was shocking to hear Will speak like that. He was all business, ordering Kayla to fetch him things or telling everyone to sit down, but his voice softened considerably and took on a cooing quality when he addressed his boyfriend.

Nico groaned. He as if he were swimming through hot jello. Every one of his muscles seemed to weight twenty times what it usually did, and the thought of opening his eyes made him want to sob. Gingerly, he opened one eye, just as he had done before. He had done it before, right?

“Are you experiencing light sensitivity?” Will asked him. Nico could hardly respond, so he groaned. Will slid a thumb onto Nico’s eyelid and held it open, shining the light into it. Nico could feel his eye watering from the wasted effort of closing it against Will’s thumb. After what felt like an hour of a knife being pushed directly into his right eye, Will switched to the other one.

“Pupillary response is normal and equal,” he said to Kayla. He turned to the rest of them. “That’s a good sign. It means that his brain is still responding correctly to certain stimuli, which means that there’s little chance of damage.”

He sat back in his chair, dropping his face into his hands for only a moment before he heard a choking noise. Sally yelped, and stood to help. He looked towards Nico, who was trying (and failing) to swallow back his gags. Acting on a whim, Will grabbed Nico’s shoulder and rolled him towards himself, placing one hand on his back and the other in his hair while Nico’s gags finally became productive. He coughed, splattering Will’s scrubs with bile. After a gasping breath, he heaved again. This time the sick dribbled out of his mouth and onto the pillow below his head, coating his cheek in it too. He burped sickly and gave a great, groaning cough.

Will, who had been murmuring encouragements to him the whole time, grabbed a tissue from beside the bed and began wiping his mouth. Nico didn’t seem to notice. He just kept mumbling, “I don’t want to throw up anymore. Please make it stop. Make it stop. Please.”

Percy’s heart broke for him. He shouldn’t mention this to Nico when he was coherent, or he’d probably be turned to stone with a single glare, but despite the awful situation, seeing Nico being looked after filled him with comfort. He had spent so long being alone and uncared for. As long as Will was around, he’d never have to face that again.

#wow this is long #my writing #sickfic #whump #emetophilia #emeto #nico di angelo #Will solace #percy jackson #annabeth chase #sally jackson

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booksbroadwaybbc · 6 years ago

Text

Don't know what to do with myself. via /r/selfimprovement

Don't know what to do with myself.

Hi. I'm 21 and still in community college, but I did get my provisional admission to this university I wanted to transfer to. I work as a runner at Din Tai Fung and I'm supposed to make bank, but I don't really know yet because I'm a new employee. Headtitle question at the bottom

I think I've lived an okay-ish life, kind of. story time, skip to the end if you dont wanna read it I come from a Korean family, can't say I remember much of my childhood except mostly being beaten and yelled at. There were good times too, but they usually ended prettily shittily. Moved around a bunch, went to a lot of schools. I've dealt with a lot of abusive stuff from both parents, but I'm not going to talk about my mom because things have gotten better and she's still here for me(?). For some extreme stuff- my dad broke my brothers toes in elementary school. In my senior year, he threatened me at knifepoint and forced it into my hands and told me to stab my brother or he would stab me. Beatings from him were pretty bad, and it's not just belts and sticks bad. I played co-ed baseball in 5th grade, so bam, there was that too. He liked to throw chairs and literally flip tables when he was angry (hes a private construction worker, so he's pretty strong). Broke a lot of his phones throwing them at us, the wall, the floor, whatever. Ive had a lot of problems with my social affairs in highschool- anxiety, being cold, being short tempered, aggressive, violent, sharp tongued. I started warming up in senior year because of this girl I dated, which was a pretty big deal because gays are not allowed in this household. And well, im bi but its the same thing to them. Can't say that went too well, because my brother found out and blackmailed me in the situation we were living in. But who cares, because siblings hate each other right? Anyways, broke up with her, broke her heart, treated her poorly and whatever two years later we made up and was able to be friends again. Back to dad- he was usually never around for things like elementary grad, middle school grad, and highschool- my mom made him come, but he sure didn't seem happy about it. In highschool, he only laid down on his phone playi ng his shitty phone games. Doesnt talk to me, doesnt talk to my brother, doesnt talk to my mom. His routine: wake up, go to work, come home, phone games, eat, phone games, sleep. If you try to talk to him, he ignores you. If you press it, he'll give you some boring answer like "go away already".

Anywho, that abusive fuck was caught cheating. Had an affair with a client's sister. Sold the house we lived in, mom moved to Newark, him to San Leandro. Mom didnt want to deal with me, so I got the boot and lived wjth acquaintances in Hayward. Couldnt afford it, so mom told me to move to San Leandro with him. I moved in with my best friend helping me and we saw the evidence. Bambam, hello lady clothing and shit. I went apeshit nuts and he tried to convince me, then threatened that I would be in big trouble if i said anything. (Parents were separated but not divorced). Alright, ill keep my big mouth shut.

I worked for his "girlfriend" at her cafe in Berkeley. Why? Well, it was easy money and i needed it to keep up with my shitty coping habits- partying and party favors, mostly e. You dont have to deal with stress if youre always out partying.

Anywho, fast forward, skip a lot of details. Mom gets a phone call one day from mutual acquaintance saying dad is sick and asks her to bring him some food. Alright. So she does because she still cares, and finds out the truth. Calls me and demands me to come right now and unlock the door- note that this is a 40 minute drive. By the time i get there, theres hella police and a window is broken and theres hella shit going on. Things settled down but being my immature ass i scream at my parents for both being immature, and they shouldve just cut things clean. I yell at my dad for being a fuckhead and cheating, you didnt raise a liar but you are one. I yell at my mom for being irresponsible and breaking things. Police grabs my shoulder but i swipe it off and bam. Im on the floor, face into concrete, chipped teeth and i cant even see where my dog is. Tbh i was more worried that he ran off because he was still a puppy and i was holding him during this whole ordeal. My glasses got knocked off my face when those two officers fucking bodyslammed me into the ground. I'm 5ft4, i weighed like 130 at this time but im just a legit smol asian girl.

What happened next? Well yknow, i got arrested and sent to jail for assaulting a police officer, nbd. Sat there for a few hours, listening to some psycho making weird noises. Finally get some call saying that my mom was waiting for me, and she bailed me out. She was crying a lot and told me that my dad didnt even bat an eye as they took me away, that he smiled and tried to fix his goddamn broken window. I believe it too, because I saw that shitty smirk on his face when i got to the scene. My mom has a bit of an uncontrollable temper so she looks psycho when the other person was the wack one. This was in January 2017.

Skip forward to the next police thing. June 2017. My mom demands that i pack all my shit and move back, and she wants to go with me. I plead no, but what am i gonna do against her? Alright, we drive and she starts saying stuff about lying and calls the bitch a slut and homewrecker and stuff, dad gets up to stand inbetween and stuff. Tells her to move than basically shoves her across the living room towards the door. **insert hysteria and bam again, screaming and each other, his hands on her, me trying to squeeze my body in between them and get his hands off of her. Doesnt really work cos he turns on me, hits me away and goes back to beat her. My screaming doesnt really help either, but i try what I can to claw his arms off of her. Nooooo, bad idea, but better me than her. He grabs me and my head is locked into his elbow so I bite down, arm. Baaaad idea again, but its in self defense imo. Im just trying to help my mom. He p much beats me up into a pulp her, grabs my shirt all the way up and yikes thats embarassing. The struggle goes on and eventually its calm again because slutface is like "honey staph"- note: only words and no actions to get close, buuuut, it works. Me and mom move to my room and start removing all my weebshit from the walls. Mom is muttering and saying a bunch of bs for him to hear and he storms into the room because hes fucking triggered and start the violence again. Oh but this is where i do the fun thing- i lunge myself at him so im like on top of him but holy shit, he legit pulls me off of him and throws me against the wall cabinets, and two hand chokes me, with his knees on my chest. Mom starts screaming at him, claws his face and soon the police are here and shit. Bitch called the police, and this is where it gets more fucked up. I legally live here, its on my license. I came back to move out, so its okay for me to be here, because i came to pack my stuff and take whats mine. So why exactly did the police not believe me? Why did my mom get arrested for putting dumb scratches on his face when he beat us, with pictures - that day- to prove that he inflicted more wounds on us. We were just defending ourselves. He put his hands on us first. Anyways, that starts my worries cos im like. Im 20, but idk what to do. How do i find money to bail my mom out? How do i even do that in the first place? But i managed.

Anywho skip forward, jackass is no longer in my life, tho i have to deal with him through my brother from time to time. Parents officially divorced Feb 2018. I've lived with my mom, she bought a cafeteria for a little bit so I worked there. Things were really hard because my mom had a lot of pent up anger that she would take out on me. My brother moved out because he went to university so he didnt really have to deal with much. Im also the older child, so bam. Anyways, we fought a lot. A LOT LOT. Like apeshit crazylot. I took a lot of beatings. It was like the weekend before Christmas of 2017 where a took a huge beating and ran away from my problems by going to my now-ex's house. He offered me to move in with him and his family, so I did. I had the choice of going back to my moms lifestyle and attempt to make up, or trying to live a different life. I lived with him from like Christmas to March 2018. We started having a lot of problems because he regret inviting me, he wasnt ready to give up his personal space and I was done babysitting someone who was older than me. Doing his laundry, doing his dishes, cleaning his room. I was done with being bored, never going out, being ignored while he did the same thing my dad did. Sit on his phone and not speak a word. Yeah, there were good times too, but they seem so fleeting when it seeps in with your own personal trauma of being ignored. Btw- when i moved to his place, my brother moved back home to fill the gap, but my brother is better with dealing with my mom and she doesnt blow up at him.

After I moved back, it was better. Yeah, shit went down sometimes but i guess overall it was better? My mom cried a lot. I would hear her talk on the phone with her family members in Korea and cry about how she was tired of everything and didn't want to do it anymore. I know exactly how that feels. Well, in the later months of 2018, we got along better and havent really had those blowups. I tried my best to stay home more instead of going out at night because she hated it. I tried to be nicer to her and more compromising. She's in Korea rn and things suck. During the whole parents thing, it sucks to feel like your parents are passing you to each other likea toy they dont want. It sucks to not really feel familial love growing up, where mom is just doing things because shes supposed to and dad just flat out pretends you dont exist. It sucks that it takes two years of partying, drugs and cons to find out

Submitted October 31, 2018 at 10:33AM by xfirelily via reddit https://ift.tt/2CRsVBn

#IFTTT #reddit

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