#(also also her eye infection is clearing up so she’s on the way to recovery)
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mielwriting · 5 months ago
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Venti 🦠?
Gods Can Get Sick? - AlbusLebron - 原神 | Genshin Impact (Video Game) [Archive of Our Own]
Available here on Tumblr and on ao3!
Illness was not an issue he ever had to reckon with as a wind wisp. He envied his siblings in that regard. The Thousand Winds were unable to related to his sickness, so they tried to comfort him in their own ways. Some of them stayed with Venti, while others scoured the continent in search of a solution. They snuck into the Akademiya’s libraries, swept through Cloud Retainer’s blueprints, and even searched the remains of the Fontaine Research Institute for a cure to a divine cold. He had gotten sick plenty of times before, but each time, some wind wisps searched Teyvat. They hoped that, in the centuries since the last time he was sick, someone had come up with something that could help him recover faster. 
Meanwhile, Venti was sorely rethinking his decision to live outside. Normally, he loved the outdoors! He loved laying on a high branch at Windrise, feeling the way the breeze shakes the trees, and occasionally feel the cool rain on his skin. Now though, his whole body ached, and the roots of Vennessa’s Tree simply felt uncomfortable. 
While his old friend’s Tree was normally his go-to healing spot, that was more for magic issues, such as alchemical corruption or losing some of his power. Against a regular (divine) cold, the Tree was unfortunately unable to help. 
Venti didn’t want to risk infecting Dvalin, and Andrius was never too comforting. He would love to rest in the hands of his (friend’s) statue, but his stronger-than-a-human’s sneezes would attract unwanted scrutiny, and likely bother the people in the plaza. And then the Sisters would notice, and insist on trying to heal him or having him rest in the cathedral’s recovery wing. And then he’d be stuck listening to choir songs singing praises he didn’t deserve, while all the sisters prayed to himself so he could get better!
So, he stayed at the roots of Vennessa’s Tree, trying to make himself comfortable, while several wind wisps tried to comfort him. He closed his eyes, and tried once again to relax. 
“Oh! Apologies, I wasn’t expecting you to be out here.”
He slowly opened his eyes and looked in the direction of the voice, where Grandmaster Jean was standing. She looked concerned. 
“Grandmaster Jean!” He mouths the word ‘acting’ as she goes to correct him, “What a pleasant surprise! What brings you to Windri-Achoo!” Venti groaned.
“I often visit Lady Vennessa’s Tree to clear my head. Are you alright?”
He winced at the thought that he was adding more stress to her plate, “Of Course, Grandmaster Jean!” He wished his voice didn’t sound as hoarse.
Jean looked conflicted, then took a few steps towards Venti and sat down next to him, “I hope I’m not being too presumptuous, but… I wasn’t aware Archons could get sick.”
Venti sneezed again, then looked at Jean, “Oh, it’s just something I have to deal with every few centuries. Alas, even gods are not immune to colds,” He sighed dramatically, “Perhaps this is my punishment for stealing Master Diluc’s wine…”
She looked at his lap, where several wind wisps were currently resting, “Then are the… wind spirits also sick?”
He followed her gaze to the sleeping wind wisps, “Ah, no, they’re just trying to make me - Achoo! - feel better.” 
“Is that why you’re spending more time at the Tree? You mentioned before that it helps you heal.”
“Alas, Valiant Vennessa’s tree only helps heal ailments of the magical kind. Such a mundane problem cannot be healed from a magical source.”
She looked down at her own lap, “I know it’s not my place to question your judgment…”
He placed a hand over his heart and closed his eyes, “Grandmaster Jean, you wound me! I can take any criticism you have to throw at me!” He let his hands fall to his sides, opened his eyes and looked at Jean, “I value your opinion, really! Whatever it is you have to say, please don’t let my status as an archon keep you from sharing!”
“If Lady Vennessa’s Tree can’t heal your cold, then why are you still sitting outside? Fresh air and exercise is imperative to a quick recovery, but so is proper rest. I can’t imagine it’s easy to make the trip to Windrise every day. Surely there’s a park closer to your house.”
“Oh, I don’t actually have a house in the city! I usually just sleep outside.” 
She looked horrified, “Lord Barbatos-”
He quickly interrupted, “It’s fine, really! I love the outdoors!” His smile didn’t seem to convince her. 
“I cannot in good conscience allow a citizen of Mondstadt, archon or otherwise, to remain outside while they are recovering from an illness. I can offer you my house’s spare bedroom.”
“That’s really not -Achoo! - necessary, Grandmaster Jean. Really, this just happens sometimes. I’ll be fine in a few days… ah… ah… Achoo!” 
“I insist, Lo- Venti. We don’t want whatever you have to get worse. And I’m sure you wouldn’t want myself, your other friends, and all your… wind spirits to worry you aren’t taking care of yourself.”
He gasped, “I can’t believe you Grandmaster Jean! Using my compassion against me,” he draped his hand over his forehead, “Oh, woe is me if- Achoo!... Ah… Ah… Achoo!” He dropped his hands back to his sides, “... I’ll go, if only to give you peace of mind. You may have a point about proper rest.”
She smiled, “I’m glad to hear it,” she held a hand out to help him up. As he stood up, several wind wisps roused from their sleep and floated up beside his head. 
“There’s plenty of room for the wind spirits too.”
He took her hand, and smiled earnestly, “Thank you, Grandmaster Jean.”
*** 
An hour later, he was laying on her spare bed, which he had to admit was much comfier than a tree. He was still sneezing every few minutes, but he was as relaxed as he could be in present conditions. Several of the Thousand Winds floated next to him. 4 were trying to sing to him, 3 were nuzzling against him to provide comfort, and others were playing with his hair. 
One of his braids was dangling over the edge of the bed, and 2 wind wisps were quite entertained by watching it sway in the small breezes they created. The other braid had come undone entirely, and 3 wind wisps were trying to rebraid it for him. 
Each time he sneezed, they lost their grip, the half-done braid fell apart, and they had to start over again. It would be a few sneezes before they learn to braid his hair quick enough. They don’t seem to mind having to start over. In fact, they seem to really enjoy constantly braiding his hair. Venti suspects that if his sneezing didn’t regularly undo their progress, they would’ve redone the braid several times by now.
Venti doesn’t want to think about the chaos the other 988 winds were out causing. Instead, he thinks about how nice Jean was to give him the bed even though he probably caused more work for her. He would have to repay her somehow once he got better. 
For now, though, he was content to doze off, safe in his old friend’s house. 
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lostsneeze · 1 year ago
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Cold Space (F/F)
Yila was counting the minutes until her shift in the medbay ended in hot anticipation. She was a startling sight inside her containment suit; one look through the window of her helmet would be enough to tell she was suffering from a particularly vicious cold. To make matters worse, her restriction to the inside of the suit meant she couldn’t even clean up her own nose, and it had been clearly running unrestricted down her face for some time.
Her infection would’ve normally been a surprise, here on a starcruiser with a clearly functioning medbay in the most technologically advanced period of human history to date. In fact, Yila herself was an accomplished physician and could’ve treated herself for the virus with ease. But, noticing her blue skin and the row of small ridges just beneath her jet-black hair, anyone familiar with the federation’s medical practices would realize that she was an Acrturian, and therefore purposefully remaining sick.
Through the manipulation of morphogenetic fields, Yila’s species has the ability to engage in pseudo-telepathic communication between herself and other living organisms, even non-sapient ones. Being such a useful boon on spacefaring journeys where a crew can expect to encounter lifeforms of all kinds that they may have no clear way of communicating with, Arcturians are a frequent sight on federation starships. 
But there is one complication; Acrturians cannot interpret the thoughts, feelings or sensations of organisms they are totally unfamiliar with. A workaround to this was discovered in the form of using a mediating organism, until such a time as the familiarity could be achieved. After some research into the statistically least risky contagious illness, it became established policy for Acrturian science officers to voluntarily maintain an infection so they could be on standby not only for communicating with new intelligent lifeforms but also for diagnostic purposes on crewmembers in case of emergency, as they could even achieve low-level communication with alien illnesses.
Normally, volunteer infection is only done in shifts during the same timeframe as when encounters with new planetary or spacefaring bodies are anticipated. However, Yila had medically prolonged her infection for nearly 2 weeks, the maximum time permitted before recovery was policy mandated. This was because she had come to enjoy it. The cold virus, when rampaging through a host system, experiences something that morphogenetic empathy translates as, essentially, ecstasy. And thanks to the aid of her girlfriend, yeoman 3rd class Rebecca Wong, she had been doubly reveling in it.
Glancing at the time and frowning at how much longer remained for her standby call in medbay, Yila reflected on the joy of yesterday, the 2nd day in a row Rebecca had called out sick after having caught Yila’s cold. Rebecca was of course not restricted from getting it cured by an professional obligation or personal satisfaction, and she had done so after a night of indulging Yila several times in the past. But now she was granting Yila’s request to hang onto it for a while, let it develop, let her soak in the pleasure of not just one but two “healthy” colonies of germs.
She thought about their first night together, when Rebecca had started showing symptoms and, in a hoarse and husky voice, had seductively invited Yila to make them worse. Rebecca held Yila in a strikingly lustful gaze, despite (or because of, depending on perspective) the fatigue already showing in her eyes and a thin trail of snot hanging down her little round, slightly upturned nose from after she’d sneezed just moments before. Not her usual, girly, polite, partially stifled “Hh’NGTX-cheww~” kind of sneeze she would do around mixed company, but the uncovered, blasting “HAAKTCHEEW!” kind of sneeze that she only did around Yila.
The Arcturian had tackled lover into bed with an animalistic ferocity. Her own nose, which was broad and flat with an almost snoutlike quality, was dripping in two thick streams, and they kissed through a curtain of snot that Yila refused to fully break off even as a trio of sneezes overtook her. Instead, she released three fierce “Mmpht’SHUUH”s directly down her girlfriend’s sore throat before finally pulling away as Rebecca gasped for air through a series of coughs and reverse-snorts. Meanwhile Yila reeled her head back with a satisfied moan. After those sneezes she was streaming wet, both on top and bottom, and Rebecca let out an excited sigh as she felt that wetness spread over her.
As Yila began caressing Rebecca with her entire body, she reached out to pin her girlfriend’s hands up above her head and stretched to position her own generously sized breasts in front of the yeoman’s face. This wasn’t really a position of proper restraint; the medical officer was slender to an almost waifish degree, and the yeoman maintained athletic training actually a bit above what was regulation for crewmembers on call for away missions. Rather, it was a physical reminder for Rebecca to forgo ordinary etiquette in preventing or flinching away from the contagion which Yila was delighted in both giving and receiving. Every time Rebecca would turn from force of habit to redirect one of her little coughs or boisterous wet sneezes away, Yila would greedily nuzzle her own face into her lover’s or thrust her breasts towards her to catch the spray. 
“Hwah…Ha…HAAAHKSHEEW! HaaAH’TSHEW! Haah’kshew! Haaah…Hhh’KTCHEEW!”
And each time Rebecca saw Yila’s wide, horribly chapped and red nostrils flaring even wider in building a sneeze, Yila would gently squeeze her hands or wrists to stave off her instinct to cover herself.
“Heuhhh…Heuaht’SHUUH! Heah-Ah-AAARSHEUUH! EEUGHSHEUUH!”
Throughout the entire time she was sick, Rebecca adhered to a request from Yila to blow and wipe her nose only with her hands if at all. The sight of her well-worn nose now overflowing beneath eyelids fluttering in preparation for a sneeze excited Yila into a frenzy. Yila mushed her own ragged nose down against the yeoman’s, kissing her hungrily even as she swiped their snot back and forth across each other’s cheeks and lips. She finally released her grip on Rebecca’s hands and traced them down scattered black bangs to lovingly hold her love’s flush, snot-strewn face.
“Haah…Hah…AH!”
Seeing a powerful sneeze starting to build, Yila exhaled sharply in anticipation and traced her fingers lower down her chest, then lower, reaching them in to take hold of Rebecca just as she tightened to take hold of her back.
“HAAAHK’SHEEEUW!”
And as if in sympathy to her memory, at that moment Yila sneezed herself out of her recollection back to the present.
“HEEURGSHUUH!!”
As wetness dripped down both her nose and her thighs, she glanced at the time. She’d been lost in the memory for long enough that only a few minutes remained, easily within reason of her leaving her post early. Without any acknowledgment to the other staff, she left at just short of a sprint, struggling slightly for air between her completely clogged nose and prickly pained throat. When she reached the door to Rebecca’s cabin she didn’t even bother trying to catch her breath before opening the door. She was greeted by the sight of its occupant lying in her bed with the covers somewhat haphazardly over her, completely naked and shivering slightly just as she had been that morning when Rebecca had left, mucus absolutely soaking down the front of her face and bare chest.
“You gudda warb mbe ubp?” she asked, followed by a lengthy, soggy snuffle.
With a combination snuffle and squeak of pleasure, Yila literally tore her containment suit off, ripping it in several places that would have to be patched later. Rebeca blushed at Yila’s wild passion, staring with growing excitement at her naked body emerging from the suit as the door to the cabin quietly automatically slid shut behind her.
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onespookygoblin · 1 year ago
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No.
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metalnecklace · 1 year ago
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I Was Raised Out In The Cold
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Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader
Words: 8099
Warnings: Canon Typical Violence, Brief Mentions of Death/Violence, Injuries/Head Trauma, P in V Smut, Unsafe Sex (wrap it up, folks).
Notes: Here is the second part to Forgive My Northern Attitude. I wrote way more than I expected, but I’m really happy with it! I hope this redeems how I left the first part. Also I played through the game before I watched the show so if it’s obvious then I’m sorry. Also also, I have dealt with the injuries in this part before so I’m basing recovery/treatment on what I went through when having to deal with that.
Masterlist
Part I
Three Months Later (Autumn)
I tried not to think about that night. About him. About the way he held me so close, as if he was afraid to lose me. I knew in that moment I was afraid to lose him. I didn’t know that I would.
Ever since he closed my front door on us I decided to close my heart to him. We barely spoke unless necessary, and I tried my hardest to keep my distance from him. Ellie had suspiciously been getting closer to me, but I didn’t mind as long as he didn’t join her.
One day she asked about us at lunch. “What’s up with you and Joel?”
I shrugged. “Not much.”
She rolled her eyes and sat back with her arms crossed. “You can’t fool me. How do you guys know each other?”
“We were friends before the outbreak. That’s it, that’s all.” I continued keeping my eyes down and focused on the food I was stabbing with my fork.
We sat eating in silence for a few more minutes, and I thought I was off the hook. “You probably already know how stubborn he is, but he does eventually give in. I promise.”
I looked up and saw that she was genuine with her words. She looked at me with concern that only someone who actually cared could have.
“Thank you, Ellie.”
She smiled. “Anytime.”
Joel and I continued existing around each other until even Tommy couldn’t take it. I walked in on him and Joel arguing after he’d called me into his office.
“You’re fucking stupid if you think I’m goin’ out there with her.” Joel was standing with his back to the door, and I tried my hardest to ignore the ghost of how it felt to pull that back closer to my body.
“I hope you’re not talking about me,” I said, causing Joel’s shoulders to tense up even further toward his ears. He spun to face me and his eyes held a look that I couldn’t figure out.
“(Y/N). Glad you could join us.” Tommy was sitting at his desk, looking amused at the scowl etched onto Joel’s features.
I walked further into the room, closing the door behind me. “What’s going on, Tommy?”
Tommy’s eyes darted between me and Joel, no doubt noticing how hard I was trying to ignore the older man. “I’m sending you guys out on patrol to one of our safe houses in the north. There’s reports of infected hiding out there and I need them cleared out. We have a lot of supplies up there and can’t afford to lose the place.”
“But why us?” Joel asked before I could. “Why can’t you and I go up?”
Tommy raised an eyebrow at his brother. “You know Maria doesn’t want me going out as much right now, and you two haven’t been out on patrol together yet. I’m trying to change things up.”
“If we haven’t been out before then do you really think it’s safest to try this now?” Joel was nearly shouting, gritting his teeth to keep his voice level.
Tommy stood up so he could look Joel in the face. “You two are the best shooters here, you work your asses off, and look out for everyone else before yourselves. I have no doubt in my mind that you’re the two to do it. Also, it might help get the stick that’s shoved up your ass out once and for all.”
The brothers stared at each other for a moment, I didn’t dare speak. “I could just say no,” Joel finally said.
“You could,” Tommy shrugged, “but you won’t.”
Joel grunted then turned toward the door, throwing it open. Before he left he looked at me. “We leave at dawn, be ready by the stables.”
He slammed the door before I could even give a response.
“I don’t have much of a choice do I?”
“Nope,” Tommy replied, lips popping on the P. “Just please make sure he doesn’t do anything too stupid.”
“I’ll try my best,” I grumbled. “But I make no promises.”
I slept fitfully that night, my dreams filled with a scowling face and slamming doors. When I rose for the day it was much earlier than I wanted, which meant I not only had enough time to get my horse saddled up, but his as well. He didn’t seem too pleased when he walked in to see me tightening the girth on his saddle.
“I could’ve done all that.” He walked over and took his bridle off the wall.
“A ‘thank you’ would be nice,” I snarked, not even bothering to look his way.
I could hear him stop in his tracks, pausing before continuing to tack his horse. “Thank you.”
I didn’t respond, mounting my horse and riding her out of the barn. Joel’s grunt let me know he mounted his horse behind me and followed my path. I allowed him to take the lead, since he’d been up to that particular safe house more than I had.
We rode in complete silence as the sun started to rise, warming us up. The sight of Jackson during the fall always took my breath away, but it was nothing compared to the way the rising sunlight shone through the red and yellow leaves that morning, casting golden rays on the mountains. Joel slowed down so he could take in the same landscape, and I was pleased to see he still knew how to enjoy his natural surroundings.
He turned to me as much as he could in his saddle. “Well, you always did wanna be surrounded by nature.”
I snorted, shaking my head. It was easy to forget for a moment that I was mad at him, that he had walked out after we opened ourselves up to each other that night.
He turned and continued leading us on our journey. If we continued the way we were we would make it to the safe house within the hour. I was starting to get nervous about what we would be facing, but I couldn’t let Joel know that. He already didn’t want to be working beside me, who knew how he’d feel knowing I was also unsure about my abilities.
Eventually we tied our horses up far enough away from the safe house that if any infected ran out they’d hopefully steer clear, and then made our way to our mission. The only sound between the two of us was the crunch of the leaves under our boots and our breaths heavy from our journey, and possibly our nerves. We came across our target and Joel held his arm out in front of me, stilling our movements, as the sound of moaning and snarling rose from the house.
“Did he say how many there might be?” I whispered, getting my gun ready.
His only answer was the shaking of his head as he mirrored my movements, aiming his gun in front of his body. I glanced at the way his strong hands gripped firm around his weapon, and I shook the image of those hands gripping my thighs out of my head. There was no time to be fantasizing.
We crouched low and made our way to the house, listening in to try and asses the number of bodies we’d have to take care of. I was sure I could distinctly hear at least four different infected, but it was impossible to say for sure until we investigated further.
Joel looked to me, pointing toward a window that had been boarded up. The boards had clearly been ripped apart, leaving a gaping hole to the house. We shuffled closer and I peeked in, looking around what I assumed had been a kitchen. There were no infected in the room, so we lifted ourselves through the window and crept over to where we could hide from the next room.
From our vantage point we were able to see two infected in the living room. I turned to Joel who nodded toward the one on the left, my target. As we advanced forward slowly, he took the right, and we jumped the infected from behind, shoving our knives into the sides of their necks. It was easy work, and, most importantly, silent.
We made our way through the house exactly like that. Silent, swift, with devastating accuracy. There were seven infected in total, and we wiped each one out, only having to fire a few rounds into the last three. I was always nervous about firing our guns, especially when we were further from Jackson, but I knew that the only infected around to hear were dead.
Or so I thought.
“Alright, let’s make sure the gear is untouched,” Joel mumbled.
I nodded and began going through the cupboards to check on the canned goods. “Guess Tommy didn’t need his best shooters after all.”
Joel chuckled. “Yeah, I have a feelin’ he was exaggerating his story.”
We still worked in silence, but it no longer felt as heavy as it had that morning. I missed Joel and just being in his company. It had been so long.
“Everything is accounted for and untouched,” I confirmed once I had checked through each room. We were standing in one of the upstairs bedrooms searching through the closets for hidden ammo.
“I just need to check the bathroom,” Joel said.
I stopped him with a hand on his chest. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll check while you radio Tommy downstairs.”
As I went to pull my hand away he grabbed onto it, keeping it held to his heartbeat. “Hey, you put in a lot of work, why don’t you rest up while I take care of both?”
I shook my head and pulled my hand away. “Joel, I’m fine, I’ll just check the bathroom.”
“So stubborn,” he said, turning to go downstairs.
I turned to face his retreating form. “Oh, I’m stubborn?”
He sighed, stopping in his tracks and tilting his head back. “We’re really gonna do this now?”
“No, you’re right, nevermind.” I threw my hands up then walked toward the bathroom. “Let’s just ignore it, cause that’s been working out so well for us.”
He turned as I started opening the door. “(Y/N), come on-“
He was cut off as an infected burst through the door that I had opened, pushing me back toward the far wall of the bedroom. Joel yelled my name, cocking his gun and firing at the creature. I couldn’t get my hands free as I pushed the infected off of me as best as I could, my feet carrying me back closer and closer to the window behind me.
Joel shot again, the infected finally howling in pain as it gave me one final shove before dropping to the floor. I stumbled back, tripping over a board that was sticking up and yelped at the feeling of lightning shooting up from my right ankle. All I heard was Joel shouting my name before my back collided with the window, glass shattering around me as I fell through the air and slammed into the earth below. My head hit the ground and everything went black.
I awoke to Joel hovering over me, his hands feeling my forehead and neck gingerly.
“Shit, sweetheart, I’m right here. I got you,” he cooed, cradling my face in his hands.
I groaned, a splitting headache making its way to my eyes. I tried to sit up but Joel pressed his hands to my shoulders, keeping me pinned.
“I just have to make sure nothin’s broken or bleedin’ first, okay?” He looked at me for permission, but I couldn’t even bring myself to answer. I felt tears spring to the corners of my eyes, not sure if it was embarrassment or pain, but knowing it was probably both.
He checked me over, his hands moving carefully and softer than I’d ever seen or felt. It was hard to believe the callouses that were worn into his skin and the knuckles that were scarred from fighting belonged to the same man who looked at me with those eyes. The more he touched me the more I felt myself melting for him.
“J-Joel,” I stuttered, tears starting to stream down my cheeks. “Joel, it hurts.”
“I know, sweetheart, I know.” He pulled back. “Where does it hurt?”
I found myself wiggling slightly, trying to pinpoint exactly where the pain was coming from. “My head, and my ankle. Mostly my ankle.”
His fingers moved behind my head, swiping over what I was sure to be a nasty bump, but his skin was clean when he pulled away. No blood. He looked relieved to see that, but concern took over once more when he moved to check my ankle. I hissed at the slightest movement as he carefully pulled my pant leg up. I thanked whatever spiritual being was watching over us that I had worn my lace up boots that day instead of my usual pull ons, since even taking one of those off hurt incredibly bad.
“Fuck, baby,” he hissed, not even daring to touch what I was assuming was a very swollen ankle. “I don’t think it’s broken, but it’s definitely sprained.”
“Shit,” I could feel a sob trying to break from my chest, but I didn’t want Joel to see me that weak. “What am I gonna do?”
“We,” he began, “are going to wrap this with the first aid kit from the kitchen. Then we are getting you home.”
He bent down further and placed a hand under my head and between my shoulders. With his help I was able to sit up, though the ground seemed to move slightly under me.
“I’m a bit dizzy,” I confessed, placing a hand out so he would slow down.
“Yeah I’d say you have a pretty nasty concussion.” He sighed. “You really did a number on yourself. We’ll go slow, okay? I just gotta get you standing.”
“I didn’t do it to myself,” I groaned, trying to lean on him enough so I could push myself up onto one foot. “It’s not my fault.”
He shook his head. “Still fighting even after falling from a second story window.”
I felt bad leaning my entire weight on him so I could stand up, considering I was feeling quite weak from my fall and the shock running through my system. He didn’t seem to mind though, and barely made a sound as he half carried me into the house. He walked me over to a couch that was up against the living room wall and helped me lay back down.
“I’m gonna radio Tommy to let him know we’ll be a bit delayed coming back, then I’ll get you wrapped up okay?”
I nodded, then winced at the pain from the movement. He went into the kitchen and I heard the sound of the radio as he muttered into it. Even though I strained to listen I still couldn’t make out a thing he said, and decided to wait for him to come back. As I waited my eyelids started feeling extremely heavy, and I felt a blanket of sleep start to pull me under.
“Don’t fall asleep on me, sweetheart.” Joel’s drawl pulled me back out from the fog I had been in. “We can’t have that with your head, don’t want you not waking back up on me.”
I groaned but obeyed. “I’m so tired.”
“I know.” He pulled a chair up to the bottom half of the couch, opening up the first aid kit on his lap. “Just keep those pretty eyes on me, darlin’.”
I did as I was told, admiring his capable hands as he held my ankle as gently as he could. It was hard to hold in my cries of pain but I tried my best for him. I didn’t want him to feel bad about hurting me, considering he was only helping.
Joel held the wrap in his hands and began to loop it around my foot and ankle with expertise. It started to feel better when it was supported by the tightening fabric, but I suspected some of that had to do with the man who was taking such good care of me.
“There,” he said, his voice gruff but I could still hear the hint of care under his tone.
“Thank you, Joel,” I grunted, trying to get up.
He reached out and stopped me yet again. “Woah there, let’s take it easy. I gotta pack everything up and I’m gonna bring the horses over. There’s no way you’re walking for very long.”
“You’re gonna leave me here?” I knew I didn’t need to be too afraid, we had hopefully cleared out the infected around us, but the thought of him not being next to me made my hands start to tremble.
“Oh, sweetheart, I swear I won’t be more than ten minutes, okay?” He laid his hand on my forehead and smoothed back my hair. He leaned over and took his gun off the floor and placed it in my hands so it was aimed toward the hallway. “If you see anybody that isn’t me, don’t even hesitate.”
I nodded. “I know, Joel.”
I waited alone, barely breathing, for what felt like hours until Joel announced his arrival. He came into the room with his hands up as if I had him pinned, making me chuckle as I lowered the gun.
“So here’s the plan,” he said as he took the gun from my hands and slung it over his shoulder. “We need to get you on that horse. Do you think we can do that?”
I thought for a moment about everything it would take to do that, then nodded slowly.
“Are you able to put any weight on it?”
I had already gotten myself into a seated position while I waited for him, but that was all I dared to do. He watched as I wiggled my toes slightly, then maneuvered myself so my feet were on the floor. I winced as I put pressure on my foot, but held my hand out to stop Joel from trying to help.
“I’m just gonna hold your hand to help you, I promise that’s it.” He was looking into my eyes helping me feel more determined than ever. We were the only ones in the room and we might as well have been the only ones on earth as I focused on him and the rough surface of his palm on mine.
I used his support as I pushed myself up off the couch into a standing position. The floor shifted slightly causing Joel to let go and hold onto my shoulders instead.
“I’m okay, just a bit dizzy still,” I reassured him, then took a tentative step. I immediately hissed in pain. “Fuck, that really hurts. I’ve sprained my ankles before but not this bad.”
“I know, sweetheart.” His voice rumbled through me and I closed my eyes, allowing it to soothe my nerves. “We’re just going to go slow. The hardest part is just outside, then it’s smooth sailing, okay?”
I opened my eyes to find his already on me. My breath hitched in my throat.
“I promise.”
“Okay,” I whispered. “Okay, Joel.”
With my arm over his shoulder I hobbled outside, putting as little weight as possible on my ankle. I whimpered when we got to the side of my horse, panic rising in my throat. How was I going to do this?
“I’m gonna need you to lean back on me, sweetheart. Your good foot is going in that stirrup and you’re gonna pull yourself up okay?” His lips brushed against the shell of my ear and I couldn’t help the shiver that rippled through my body.
I did as he instructed, groaning at the pain shooting through my toes and up my leg. His arms wrapped around my middle, pulling me into him. I tried to lift my other leg up but my back muscles were pulled taught, and I felt like my energy was sucked out of me.
“I think I hurt my back more than I thought,” I panted, still trying to lift my leg.
One of his hands left my middle and moved down to grip my outer thigh, his fingers wrapping around my leg and helping me lift it high enough that I could get my foot in the stirrup.
“Alright, I’m gonna push you up a bit, but I’m gonna need you to really step with that good foot,” he grunted.
“It’s okay, I can do it,” I said, panting even before the hardest part.
Using every bit of strength I had, I hoisted myself up into the saddle, my opposite leg dangling in the air beside the stirrup. Joel walked over and adjusted the stirrup so it would be sitting looser than usual, and his hands roamed up to my ankle and calf to help my foot get set in place, but not before fitting my boot back on. For the cold, he told me, making sure it wasn’t too tight.
“I know it’s still gonna ache a bit, but hopefully not too bad,” he said, raising his eyes to mine with the warmth of his hands radiating through my jeans. He kept them there for another breath and then pulled them away hesitantly. “Are you gonna be alright?”
I nodded. “As long as we take it slow I should be fine.”
“We can do that,” he agreed. “It might take us longer to get back but I’d be out here all day as long as you feel alright.”
My lungs emptied at his words, and I found myself wishing I was back under him. Feeling the weight of his body pressing down into mine, holding me, keeping me tethered to the earth.
I pulled my gaze away, breaking my line of thought. I couldn’t do that to myself, I didn’t dare dream about Joel Miller. He sighed and walked over to his horse, swinging his leg up and over with ease. Once he was seated he turned to check my progress. I nodded once, and we set off.
The trail to the safe house was luckily not one known for its rough terrain, it was just lengthy. Usually it would take patrollers two hours to reach the house, and two hours to go back home. It took us three until we could see the Jackson gate.
Although my ankle was throbbing, it didn’t feel like it took us as long as we did. The only way we could tell any time passed was because the sun had started to set. Joel hadn’t spoken a word, only glancing behind every once in a while to check on me, leaving me to my thoughts. And did they ever race.
After trying to steer my mind to more appropriate things, I found that the only way to distract myself from the pain was by focusing on the broad back in front of me. The way his jacket puffed out over his torso, but still stretched slightly over his shoulders. Even under the layers I could tell his strength, and longed to feel him let go. Let me feel it.
I was nearly salivating by the time he stopped in front and half turned to check on me.
“Doin’ alright?”
“Y-yeah,” my voice nearly broke after not talking for so long, “just exhausted.”
He nodded and looked to where Jackson was. “Just a few more minutes and we’ll be there. I’ll make sure to help you off and everything, I know that’ll not be too fun.”
“Right. Thank you.”
I could barely feel my foot, the swelling too much against the confines of my boot, but I wiggled my toes every once in a while to make sure I still could. When we finally passed the gates I felt myself nearly give out, slumping over the horn of my saddle slightly. Joel was already in front of me, holding the reins to his horse and taking mine out of my loosening grip.
“It’s alright, we’re here.” His voice was soothing, my port in a storm. “Just keep it up for a few more minutes, I’m getting us to your place first so you won’t have to walk far.”
I didn’t answer him but knew he would do what was needed. All of my strength was being used to keep myself awake and alert as I hung onto the horn of the saddle for dear life. Every step had my body shift forward, making it harder to stay upright. Luckily my house came into view and I knew we were only a few more steps away.
When we arrived he rushed over to my good side, and instructed me to swing my bad leg over so I could slide down and land on one foot. His hands held onto my waist, helping me down slowly until I was on my good foot, and I gingerly placed my other on the ground.
“It’s really stiff,” I groaned.
“Do you think you can walk on it a bit? Just to get you inside?” His eyes searched my face looking for any indication of pain.
“Yeah. Yeah, I think so,” I said, still a bit out of breath from the dismount. “I’ll be fine, I just need to lay down.”
He helped me place my arm around his shoulders and together we hobbled into my house. I went to direct him to where my bedroom was but realized I didn’t need to. He found it as if he’d been there a thousand times, as if it were his house, not just the house he snuck out of in the early hours of the morning.
I sat down on my bed and watched as he bent down on one knee to take my boot off. I was mesmerized by his gentle touch and watchful eyes, remembering the last time we were in that room. A heat pooled low in my belly and my thighs involuntarily clenched together.
“Sorry, I know it hurts,” he said. He had no idea. “I’m gonna go get Tommy and Maria, they were gonna get the doctor, so I’ll be right back. Why don’t you change into something comfortable?”
“Okay,” I said. “Thank you, Joel.”
He stood up and looked at me. I felt my breath falter as time stood still under his gaze. He nodded and walked away. Maria and Tommy came in with the doctor not long after, but Joel didn’t come with them. They confirmed it wasn’t a break, and that I definitely had a concussion but I was okay to rest up. Maria made sure my curtains were drawn tight so my eyes wouldn’t be as sensitive to the light, and they made sure to give me time to rest.
A week passed by with Maria and the doctor coming in to check on me a few times a day as I rested and tried to regain my strength. My head wasn’t aching as much as before but my ankle was still quite tender. I was trying to put more and more weight on it each day but it was hard to stay determined. Joel flooded my thoughts throughout the day and at night my dreams tended to revolve around my mixed feelings toward him.
I was upset he hadn’t visited. Even Ellie had visited at least once a day. She said I needed entertainment, which apparently meant bad jokes and then hounding me about Joel.
“Was he less grumpy before?” She asked one day while I made us some soup to fight off the chill in the air.
I shrugged. “I think we all were.”
“You two were friends, though?”
I turned to her. She was sitting at my kitchen table shuffling cards, but I knew that little smile she wore had different intentions than just curiosity.
“Yes.” I turned back to the pot on the stove. “I already told you that before.”
“I know, it’s just hard to imagine him making friends.” She laughed a bit, the cards flipping through her hands with small swishes. “He doesn’t tell me too much about before, but he has started opening up about Sarah more.”
“He was friends with my brother first,” I said quickly, not sure Joel would want us talking about Sarah. “I was his and Tommy’s mechanic.”
“You were a mechanic?” Ellie asked, her hands pausing their movements. “That’s so cool! There were a few at FEDRA, but they were mostly all men.”
“Yeah, it was a pretty male dominated profession before too.” I turned off my stove, giving the soup one last stir before going to sit in front of Ellie. I had taught her ‘go fish’ and it was her favourite thing to play on rainy days. It also helped pass the time while I was healing.
I was reminded of Freddy. All that time playing cards while we waited for his treatments in the hospital. Us playing games we played as kids just to keep the air lighthearted.
She dealt out our cards. “So, you were close?”
“Close enough, I guess.” I picked up my cards, fanning them out in front of me. “We would just hang out on weekends, having barbecues or hang outs. Nothing crazy, certainly never serious.”
Ellie nodded, but didn’t say anything. The silence that hung between us was filled with questions she didn’t dare voice. She didn’t have to.
“My brother and Tommy fought in the army together, and then stayed close when they came home.” I stacked my cards together face down on the table so I could look at Ellie. “He introduced them to me because I was just starting up my shop.”
Ellie was patient, letting me tell her what I felt comfortable telling her. I understood how she and Joel got along. She knew the right questions to ask to get you talking, but was respectful enough to let you take the lead. It was easy to see the understanding she felt toward me, and I could only imagine the amount she felt toward Joel.
“My brother got very sick. He was getting treatments that made him quite weak, so he was living with me. Did Joel tell you about the flour?”
She nodded, her cards long forgotten.
“Well, he had some. Got infected.” I looked down at my hands. They laid steady on the wood in front of me. “Joel… Took care of him.”
Ellie gasped slightly, barely loud enough for me to hear. “(Y/N), I’m so sorry.”
I shook my head, my eyes welling up. “No, no, it’s okay. It happened so long ago now that I’ve made peace with his passing. The last year he was alive I went to sleep each night wishing he was no longer in pain. Praying for some relief. I guess I should’ve been more specific.”
I looked up to find Ellie chewing on her lip. It was a lot to take in for a young girl, but I knew she wasn’t a typical young girl.
“Thank you for sharing that with me,” she said finally.
“Thank you for listening.” I smiled and picked up my cards. “Now, get ready to be schooled.”
After another week I had most of my strength back, my ankle and head were feeling much better, and I had given up hope that Joel would grace my doorstep. That was until I heard a tentative knock one night after I got ready to go to bed. I was confused as to who it was, because Maria’s knocks were forceful, announcing immediately who it was, and Ellie barely knocked anymore before barging in. When I opened the door I nearly rolled my eyes at the broad frame standing before me.
“What do you want, Joel?” I held onto the door, ready to slam it in his face.
He held his hands up in surrender. “I just want to talk. That’s all.”
I gnawed the inside of my lip, then moved out of the way for him. He wandered inside as if he had never seen my house in his life, so unlike the man who was so sure of where each room was when he led me inside after my injury. I gestured to the couch and sat down, twisting my body to face him as he followed my actions.
“Well?” I asked. “Talk.”
“I’m sorry.” He said. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry for everything. For how I’ve treated you, for how I’ve ignored you. Most of all I’m sorry you’re going through this. I should have been the one to open that door, I should have insisted. It’s my fault you’re hurt.”
I shook my head, narrowing my eyes. “Don’t give me that.” His attention snapped to my tone, surprised at my cruelty. “Joel, if you would have opened that door you would have been in the same place as me, if not worse. So don’t give me that.”
“Yeah, but at least it wouldn’t have been you. You don’t deserve to be in pain.”
“Oh?” I scoffed. “And you do?”
He looked away from me, letting his silence speak for him.
“Joel, come on. When are you going to realize that you don’t need to take on everyone’s burdens?” I reached out and placed my hand on his knee, but he still wouldn’t look at me. “You don’t need to repent for your sins, you don’t need to sacrifice yourself for anything. You are not something that needs to be saved or fixed, you are not broken.”
Joel shook his head and stood up, pacing in front of me. He came to a stop and turned to face me. His eyes were glassy, his cheeks flushed, and I wanted to go to him and press my thumb against his trembling bottom lip to keep it still. I didn’t.
“How can you even look at me, (Y/N)?” His voice broke on my name and I could feel my chest ache for him. “After all the things I’ve done. The things you’ve seen me do.”
Images of bloody knuckles, split eyebrows and lips, and Joel’s eyes devoid of emotion entered my head. The sounds of pleading and cries for help clogged my ears until I nearly plugged them. Then the blood that splattered against the wall behind my brother was all I could see, the screaming becoming my own, Joel’s face, his eyes. The realization of what he’d done. I shook my head trying to rid myself of the horror.
“I did things too, Joel. We were trying to survive. You can’t blame yourself.” I looked at my hands, the same ones that killed for our survival alongside him. “I think we’ve lost enough to have made up for it.”
“But you’ve stopped. You stopped all of that well before I did. Fuck, (Y/N), I just put a bullet through every single person who was only trying to save the world, just because of my own gain.” He broke off in a sob, wrapping his arms around himself. “I couldn’t lose her, (Y/N). I couldn’t let them take her. They’ve taken so much, and they weren’t even going to let her choose.”
I stood and went over to him, unwrapping his arms and wrapping my own around him. He hugged me back, cradling my head in one of his hands, and gripped the back of my shirt with his other. His shoulders and chest heaved as he cried, and I held him through it. I wasn’t sure what had happened with him and Ellie, but knew that he would tell me one day when he was comfortable. The best I could do was give him that space, and allow him to work through what he was feeling.
He spoke after calming down. “I just don’t want you being disappointed in what I have to offer.”
“What do you mean?” I pulled back slightly.
He shrugged, but wouldn’t look at me.
“Joel.”
His eyes flashed to mine, a fire burning deep in the pools of them. “I’m working on being a better person, for me, for Tommy, for Ellie, for…” he trailed off, gesturing slightly toward me. “But you shouldn’t be getting yourself attached to a work in progress.”
“I think it might be too late for that,” I lowered my voice as if I was afraid we could be heard outside our private bubble. “Joel, I’ve been trying to forget you all these years, but you keep coming back. I want to let you in but you have to let me, and you can’t just run off whenever you get scared.”
Joel nodded.
“We work through things together, okay?” I rubbed my hands up and down his chest. “We take care of each other. Because we’re in this together, no matter what.”
“Okay,” he said, his voice just above a whisper. “It won’t be perfect, but I want to try my best for you. As long as you’ll have me.”
I chuckled. “I don’t want perfect, I just want you.”
“Can I kiss you?” His hand that was on the back of my head moved lower to cradle my neck, while his other hand still splayed across my lower back. “I’ve wanted to kiss you again since that night, but I didn’t want you to be disappointed when you saw me still there.”
“Joel, I was disappointed that you weren’t there.” I sighed. “When are you going to get it through your head that I actually want you here? That I want you with me?”
He hung his head, but I placed my knuckle under his chin to angle him back up.
“I want you to kiss me, Joel. I want you to take me to bed and have your way with me. I want you to ruin me for anyone else. I want you,” I leaned in, my lips brushing against his, “Joel.”
“Fuck,” he whispered before closing the gap between us.
There was no pain in the back of my mind once I felt that man’s lips on mine. No aches in my head or ankle, no screaming in my ears, no blood splattered behind my eyelids. Everything was just him. Just Joel.
He pulled back and peppered kisses along my jaw, trailing his way to my ear. “Baby, let me take care of you the way I should’ve been all this time.”
I moaned as his teeth nipped at the skin directly under my ear. His hands gripped me closer until I was pressed so tightly to him I thought I would shatter, but felt comfort knowing he’d be there to pick up the pieces.
“Joel, take me to bed, please.” I pulled away from him and reached out for his hand, threading our fingers together.
He followed me to my room and spun me around as soon as we crossed the doorway. I whimpered into his mouth as he pressed our lips together once again, and pulled him closer to me.
Joel pulled away with a gasp, struggling to catch his breath. “Sweetheart, I want to keep going, but are you sure you’re okay?”
I felt his hand brush the back of my head and I nodded. “Yes, Joel, I promise I’m okay.” I held his face between my hands, forcing his eyes to meet mine. “You won’t hurt me. It’s okay. Don’t hold back.”
His eyes flitted down to my lips, then off to the side.
“Joel, look at me,” I demanded. His eyes snapped to mine, the hunger renewed within them. “Don’t hold back. I want to feel everything.”
“Strip,” he growled, stepping back to give me space. “Then get on the bed.”
I nearly ripped my clothes off, too impatient to make the act look good for him, and climbed onto the bed. When I turned to face him he was already naked, stroking his cock slowly while pinning me in place with his gaze. My lips fell open at the sight of him, completely at ease, yet ready to tear me apart. I let my legs widen and his eyes traveled down between them, where my core was clenching around nothing.
Joel walked forward, getting ready to kneel down but I closed my legs, making him pause his actions.
“I need you, all of you, right now.”
He chuckled. “But I need to get you ready for me, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”
“Please, I need it,” I whined. “I need all of you. I want to feel every last inch of your cock, Joel.”
“Fuck, sweetheart.” He crawled onto the bed and sat back on his knees, lining himself up with my entrance.
“Don’t hold back,” I reminded him again.
He bottomed out in one thrust, and my head was thrown back involuntarily. The sound that ripped from my throat was unrecognizable, a guttural moan that broke off into a whine as he slowly pulled back out. He slammed his hips into me again with a grunt, and continued at that pace. Hard thrusts and slow drags of his cock, though he never fully pulled out. The tip of his cock was always left in, keeping our bodies connected, along with the bruising grip he kept on my hips.
My head was still thrown back on my pillow until I felt him lean forward just enough to grab a handful of my hair on the very top. He pulled my head up so I could look at him, and I whimpered as he continued his punishing pace.
“There you go, baby, just like that,” he cooed while circling my clit with his fingers, his other hand tightening its grip on my roots. “Just like that, you’re such a good girl for me.”
My orgasm was coming on almost too fast for me to wrap my head around. His fingers danced over my swollen bud as I nearly screamed his name over and over until I came. The waves of my pleasure rolling over me, dragging me under, his voice the only thing bringing me back to the surface.
“There you go, fuck, baby. Look at you, so beautiful, so good for me,” he babbled, his voice rumbling through my veins. “Turn over baby, I wanna cum all over you.”
My limbs felt liquified as he helped me turn over onto my belly. I didn’t dare try to hold myself up and stayed laying flat between his legs. He reached over me, his cock nestled against my ass while he grabbed a pillow. I lifted my hips up enough for him to wedge the pillow under my hips, keeping me in the right position for him.
“Look at this pretty pussy,” he drawled. “She’s all mine, so wet and ready, all for me.”
He spread my ass and I blushed at being fully revealed to him, then almost laughed at the absurdity of that. I moaned when I felt his tip nudge at my entrance, then moaned again when he pushed in until he was snug against me.
“Fuck, baby, I’m not gonna last long,” he said.
My walls were so sensitive as he continued the same as he did before, slamming his hips flush against my ass, making sure I could feel every part of him when he pulled out slowly. I could barely make a sound, my entire body felt like it was on fire.
Joel moved forward so one hand held him up over me, his other hand slid into my hair, pulling my head up so I could watch him. He pressed his lips to my shoulder, his eyes burning into mine, and our bodies flushed together so tight he was barely pulling out of me.
“S-so deep, Joel,” I stuttered out, his body pressing me into the mattress as he continued pushing in and in and in.
“I know, baby, I know,” he panted against my shoulder blade, then leaned forward to bite along my back. “I’m almost there, so fucking close.”
“I need it, Joel, I need you.” I was ready to pass out, feeling so overwhelmed by him, but I didn’t want him to stop.
His hips stuttered, and he sat back up so he could fully pull out. I groaned at the empty feeling, wiggling my hips in search of him. His hand came down onto my ass and I yelped, then sighed as I felt the first spurts of his cum on the sensitive skin.
“Fuck, baby, fuck,” he grunted, fucking his fist through his orgasm. “You look so good like this.”
“All for you,” I mumbled, feeling my eyelids shut.
He finished, breathing heavily behind me, and I waited for him to find something to clean me up, only to feel his hands stroking my ass. His finger ran through the cum rolling down my skin and slid down to my clit, making me jolt with the sensitivity.
“Oh, baby, look at you. Sensitive?” He asked, even though he knew the answer. Asshole. “Think you can give me one more?”
I whined as his fingers slipped around my clit, mixing our cum together.
“I think you can take it, sweetheart, come on.”
It didn’t take long, my orgasm ripped through me with just a few more circles from his fingers. I shuddered under him, my limbs trembling after I came back down. He moved to the bathroom to get a cloth and some water, then wiped it over my skin, cleaning himself off of me. I was still in awe at the gentle swipe of his hands over the most sensitive parts of my body, especially after remembering the brutality in how he handled any weapon.
He laid down next to me when he was done and pulled me over so I was snuggled up to his side. I looked at his body, and traced my fingers along the scars both old and new. I hadn’t realized that one of his scars was quite fresh the last time I had seen him like that, and hovered over it before moving on. I knew he would tell me when he was ready.
My eyes landed between his legs when he shifted slightly. “Hard again? Already?” He nodded and then hissed as I traced my finger over his velvet skin. “I’m surprised you can still get it up at all, old man.”
He laughed, the sound like music to my ears. “Oh, darlin’, for you? I don’t think I could ever stop.”
I smiled and tilted my head up to kiss him.
We fell asleep embracing each other, with the promise of continuing in the morning unspoken between us. When we did wake up halfway through the night in each others arms it was easy for him to roll me onto my back so he could fuck me again.
Only that time it was slow. He held me close and whispered every promise into my ear, while he took his time unraveling me. My thighs ached but I still held him in between them while I came, his name falling from my lips. He came not too far behind me, and then kissed my forehead, leaving his lips pressed there for a moment.
I fell asleep again that night in his arms, and woke up alone. Again.
I sat up, my heart breaking, only to hear the bathroom door close from the hallway. Joel came striding in while pulling a t-shirt on, his cock already straining against the fabric of his underwear.
He paused once his shirt was on and he realized I was awake. “Mornin’ sleepyhead. I was thinking of making breakfast, eggs, toast, all that good stuff. How does that sound?”
I watched his smile slide onto his face so easily and couldn’t help but mirror it. “That sounds perfect, Joel.”
He turned and walked toward the kitchen. I wondered for a moment how long he would stay, but I shook the thought out of my head. I threw on some clothes and went to join him. The sight of his broad back almost completely shielding my view of the stove had my heart soaring, and when I walked up behind him and wrapped my arms around his middle he started humming.
He turned slightly and kissed the top of my head. My smile was so big I thought my face would crack in half, and when I looked up into his eyes I knew he wasn’t going anywhere.
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February Baby
A baby born in February whose cries warmed the frigid air of all those around her, a mother's warm embrace, a father’s catchy laughter, an older brother’s playful spirit, all of these things are what welcomed me into the world. 
I don’t think anyone’s family is perfect, but mine is close. 
New years spent covered in glitter and beads, waking up on Valentine's Day to treats and charms, competitive easter egg hunting, summers in the Outerbanks, fireworks and family, back-to-school shopping sprees, costumes and hayrides, stuffing and laughter, and Christmas mornings all felt ever so magical. These are the memories that defined my childhood. It was a picturesque painting my parents so carefully crafted for my siblings and me. There aren’t enough words to describe how grateful and lucky I was to be born into such an amazing family. A family that no matter what my unhinged imagination conjured up, always supported me. 
I was a curious child, bouncing back and forth fixations like a racket ball. From basketball, to gymnastics, to swimming, to horseback riding, to girl scouts, to cheerleading, to school clubs; if I was curious about something I would go for it, and I had my entire family behind me in every decision. 
Some may say precocious, others may say, overachiever, I’ll just go with clever, but from a young age, it was evident that I wanted to be the best at anything I did. Walking at nine months old, reading and writing by three, getting top grades in kindergarten, and being way too hard on myself from second grade. There wasn’t a harsher critic of my work than myself. I’m not sure why I was born such a perfectionist, my parents are genuinely happy with any thing I do, but I’ve always been this way.
Looking back I’ve always been a sickly child, although back then it didn’t seem like much, but now it’s ever so clear something was going on. Like whenever I would get a cold, I would always be sicker than all of my friends, also it would last longer and take me more time to get rid of it. Often a simple virus would lead to secondary infections which prolonged the recovery time even further. 
A frightful and slightly traumatizing incident occurred after an ordinary routine dental cleaning. The specifics aren’t clear, but the doctors assumed that bacteria got into my bloodstream and landed in my femur bone, slowly eating away at it. The technical term is osteomyelitis, and spent a week in the hospital fighting the infection. The doctors informed my parents that if we had waited a further 24 hours, I would’ve had to have my leg amputated. I was in the fourth grade, 9, and petrified. 
I can’t help but draw parallels in my mind as memories from that time flash in front of my eyes, a girl so innocent and so full of love, screaming at the top of her lungs clutching her leg in pure agony as she pleads to her parent’s for some relief. Little did that innocent girl, who was so full of love know that in just four years she would be in the same position; only this time with no explanation as to why she was in such agonizing pain. 
When I was 13 the entire world was in disarray. It was 2020, the pandemic had just reached the states, and everyone was paranoid and terrified of the havoc this virus left in its wake. Depictions of toilet paper battles, milk shortages, mask mandates, and uncertain news reports come to mind. Portrayals of political anxiety and never-ending riots were prevalent, and misinformation and inconsistent media plagued our screens.
Being 13 years old and watching the world you once knew fall apart so quickly on the scale that it did was something to this day I don’t think I’ve fully processed. I don’t know if I ever fully will. 
Days seemed to stand still, the future didn’t seem bright, and quite frankly there didn’t seem to be any light in the outside world. With the melancholy state of the outside world, my family did their best to create a fun atmosphere inside our home. It’s been instilled in me from a young age that laughter is the best medicine, and in a time so dark and dim as 2020, all you could do was try your best to find humor in the smaller moments. So that’s what we did. 
Movie marathons and board games, trashy reality TV and ice cream, laughter and love. It didn’t matter if the rest of the world was bitter, brutal, and broken because our home radiated with warmth, with whispers of laughter encapsulating us, and it didn’t matter because we were together, we were whole. As long as we were together we could weather any storm. Little did we know, the biggest storm we ever would have to face was just hovering over the horizon. 
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zoethehead · 2 years ago
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a Rannulf and a Nightwing
if you're wondering, the Rannulf lineage is something i kinda came up with, the Nightwing lineage though is in reference to the roblox role playing game; "Vampire Kingdom" with Daisy being based on one of the oc's in that game that I have seen around.
also; I chose Salem, MA due to it's supernatural connections and history
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Ray had trudged on for days, trying so hard to stay awake; fever surging through his body from the untreated wounds, and the wolfsbane that he had been tranquilized with. If he didn’t find safety; he would die….
He didn’t want to die…
Eventually, through his blurry sight; he saw what looked like a house. It could have just been his delirium, but his mind was just begging to sleep; it had been up for 5 days and his legs started to feel like yarn. He went up to the house, knocking at the door; when it opened, he heard a voice ask;
“hello?”
His mind gave way and he collapsed; everything went black……
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Daisy opened the door; she wasn’t expecting anyone to be here, she looked up---seeing a tall man with red glowing eyes who was covered in dirt and blood; his wounds seemed to be infected, and before Daisy could ask anything else-- the man collapsed. Daisy let out a shriek at the unexpected horror of a man covered in blood and dirt collapsing onto the hardwood floor of the home. The shriek startled Delilah; who ran out into the living room area;
“Daisy! Are you alright?” she asked, noticing that the worm girl seemed pale and scared; trembling as the worm girl pointed to an unconscious heap; a man covered in blood and looked to just be a mess.
Delilah sighed; “Alright, call the doc to help this guy out, I'll get this stranger inside and cleaned off.”
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It would be quite a lot of minutes; but the unconscious man was eventually cleaned off of the dried blood and dirt caking his body, The doctor showed up and tended to the wounds; he noticed the pentagram shaped scar on the man’s neck, and after researching the info of that scar; It turns out this guy was a part of the Rannulf bloodline; a bloodline of werewolves who keep guard over the island of briar. The doctor then gave some wolfsbane antidote to the unconscious man; applying the ointment over where he had been hit with darts; and some even over the open and infected wounds that had been cleaned out, drained of pus, and disinfected. The doctor gave Delilah some stuff to help with the man’s injuries over the course of his recovery; before he headed back up to his office/room.
-
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Ray came to, his body felt dizzy and unwilling to move. His brows furrowed and he let out a grunt of pain, shifting onto his side, lapsing back into slumber….
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Ray woke up again, regaining consciousness and energy, his eyes opened to a blurred ceiling light; he squinted, closing his eyes to this light, he opened his eyes again, noticing a shadow with bright red eyes looming over him.
“Theeere we go, good morning, sir.” the shadow said, brushing some bangs away from Ray’s forehead, leaning a hand against it. 
Ray jolted up, shielding himself with his injured--yet bandaged arm.
“Hey! Easy there, you’re not in any danger, sir.”  the woman said, backing away slightly, holding both hands up in a signal of apprehension. 
Ray’s vision cleared up, now seeing that this person looked to be a vampire with long ginger hair and red eyes.
“W-where am I?” Ray rasped, now easing himself onto the sofa and pillow that he was resting against earlier.
“You’re at my house, you showed up here and ended up scaring my roommate, her shrieking is what alerted me to you; as for location-wise, you’re in an area of Salem, Massachusetts. It’s honestly a miracle that you didn’t die; considering the amount of blood that you lost, alongside the wolfsbane that you had in your system, and how badly infected the wounds were.” the woman said.
Ray winced as the pain soon increased slightly. The werewolf wrapped the blanket around himself, trying to subside the pain with warmth. Ray pondered how in his nearly half-dead state he was able to make it miles away from where he was after nearly being killed, trudging on for days like a mysterious ghost; or a cryptid that’s not meant to be viewed by the public eye. The man soon grew exhausted again as he thought of how he could have made it this far; possibly when he was near death; a force pushed his body on to keep going near safety… he chose not to think for now; and laid back down--drifting back into a peaceful slumber.
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countrymusiclover · 3 years ago
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7 - War Recovery
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Part 8
Military Lovers masterlist
Raising my right hand laying on the ground I sobbed uncomfortably seeing Kyle laying on the ground with burn marks passed out. He can't be dead - he can't be. My eyes fall close no longer being able to stay awake any longer and my hand reaching for my dog dropped.
A monitor beeping makes me stir in my sleep feeling pain shoots through my whole body. I squint my eyes open clutching them closed at the blinding lights, then opening them slowly to adjust to the lights. My vision isn't totally clear as I see a figure dressed in red clothing with a clipboard staring at me. "J - Jay?" I croaked out as the figure gets closer he sits the chart down answering my confusion. "We'll Hello sweetheart. Glad to see you made it through. I'm Will, Will Halstead. I'm his brother and I preformed your surgery." Biting my lip I do slightly remember Jay mentioning that he had a brother but not much. He didn't really talk much about his family. "Will - what happened...can i have something to drink?" I croaked out feeling my throat is really dry. He comes back handing me a cup of water that I slowly sip from watching him flip open my chart on the table.
"Well Ms. L/n-" He started but I interpret not wanting him to address me professionally. "Y/n is fine." Will clears his throat staring over. "Y/n, you had harsh infection on one of your kidneys. A harsh concussion that may result in headaches from time to time. Alongside some burns from the explosion but they were minor. Finally you had a bullet get stuck in your thigh but I got it out." Lifting myself up I shift in the bed wincing feeling the pain killers only working every few seconds. "Which means you'll be required to attend physical therapy and talk with a social worker every few months. You'll also need to be on crutches for a few months-" I cut Will off seeing Kyle laying on the ground when my heart rate machine started beeping a little faster. "Where's my dog. Where's Kyle  - I need to see Kyle!"
Jay's POV
Entering the veterans back room I see Kyle asleep on the cold medical table. Someone stepped up to the front desk seeing me waiting. Somehow I just got some minor bruising after the explosion attack with the terriost unlike Y/n and Kyle. "Excuse me sir, can I help you?" A blonde nurse asked when I see Kyle's tail extremely start to wag back and forth. He's alive. "Uh yes. I brought him in. Do you know his condition?" The nurse leads me into the room causing Kyle to open his eyes Sligh lifting his head but not all the way. Discomfort written all over his face as I slowly brush my fingers through his fur. "Don't worry boy. She's alive, Y/n's alive." Hearing her name his ears lift up and his eyes glowed, like he knew he had done his job like she asked. "Mr. Halstead which would you like first. The good or bad news?"
"Good first please." I almost whispered never removing my gaze from the Marine dog that stares up into my blue eyes. The nurse clears her throat lifting some pages of the medical notes. "Kyle L/n, was brought in after an explosion inside a church. He has been a Marine military dog for 6 years. The test results came back with no organ failure. He did have burns which we will provide medication for." Lifting my head up I interpret before she can give me bad news. "So he'll live?" The nurse simply nods eyeing the chart again before tears started to slip out. "He will live....but we ran some tests like certain sounds and things to which he freaked out about. The doctor made note high PTSD along with a limp in his right back leg."
Signing the discharge paperwork I carry Kyle back to my car driving to the hospital. He whimpered laying in my passenger seat when I drive through the streets. Someone behind me honks their horn since I'm driving kinda slow so I don't freak out Kyle. But that jackass already did it anyway. Kyle gets up circling the passenger seat then started snatching the window seal. "Ky - Kyle. Hey, Kyle you're okay. You're with me - with Jay!" I holler out pulling into the parking lot of a gas station unbuckling my seat belt gently holding him still by his collar. "Kyle it's okay...easy boy. Hey Kyle you're alright..." More Cara honking through the city makes him whimper laying down with his head buried in his foot paws. "You're alright Kyle. You're safe with me...you're safe. Let's get you to Y/n." Starting the car again I keep one hand on the wheel and my other on Kyle's head. I can't imagine what Y/n will have to go through.
Y/n's POV
Someone knocks on my door as I try to eat something like the nurse suggested even though all I can think about is Kyle. Clutching the plastic fork in my right hand I nearly threw it at his head for what he did to me. For what he sent me and Kyle into. Granted we volunteered but I knew we shouldn't have rushed in so quickly to thar Afghanistan base. "Marcus Brooke's give me one good reason I don't ask the nurses to pull you out of my room immediately!" I snarl trying to not hate him for sending us there. He slowly closes the door pulling out a file of a man I don't recognize standing with the Afgan leader who nearly killed me. "The guy who kidnapped you apparently was this guy's brother. Nik and Rafe Anderson." He explains but I shake my head sitting the picture beside me on the table with my tray of horrible hospital food. "Commander Brooke's,  what exactly does this have to do with me?"
"It means we have taken care of both of them. Nik was blown up and Rafe is held in federal prison by the FBI. I have an announcement to make to both you and Kyle...it's for the Purple-" Marcus started to pull something out of his uniform pocket but the door opened for me to see Will grinning with a smile. "I've got a suprise for you." Tilting my head to see around my commanding officer I see a dog's tail wagging. Footsteps approach around the two guys and I gasped with happy tears in relief watching Jay carrying in Kyle who has his mouth open showing his tongue and teeth happy. He's alive. He's freaking alive. Jay gently lays him down on my lap brushing hair from my eyes kissing my forehead. "The vet said he's gonna be fine. I'll tell you the whole thing later. Just thought the best thing for the both of you was to see each other."
Marcus tried to interrupt the moment but Jay puts his hand across his chest shoving him outside the door. "Yeah, you can talk to her later. Will take him outside right now!" Jay growled in his face and he slowly backs out of the room. Will leaves the three of us after grabbing his next medical chart checking on his next few patients. Kyle lifted his head from my belly staring into my eyes lightly lickiing my nose. My freehand that doesn't have an iv sticking into it runs through his fur. Jay pulled up a chair at my bedside watching tears fall from my eyes. Kyle snuggles his head against my belly and I wrap my other arm over his back snuggling up against him. "You're my good boy Kyle. We're never gonna be apart again." He yawns closing his eyes for some needed sleep that makes me smile.
Comments really appreciated ❤️
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the-insomniac-emporium · 4 years ago
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We Don't Talk (About That) [Cassandra Dimitrescu/Reader]
Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language Warnings: None Summary: Affection has never been Cassandra's strong point- neither the giving nor the receiving of it. But when it comes to you, she's determined to try, regardless of the obstacles in her path. Notes: Spiritual sequel to Everybody Talks Too Much, but they can be read in any order. Reader is selectively mute, but ends up talking in this one, partially due to being high on a fever, oops. The reader in this one is also a lil bit sassier than some of my other ones, hence why it has tentatively earned my "blunt teeth sharp tongue" tag.
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“Seriously? You’re wearing white for this?” Cassandra says, eying you with a look of disbelief. All you can really do is shrug in response. After all, your hands are occupied with your current task: Wiping blood off of the corridor floor. That didn’t leave much room for miming, or writing anything down. “You’re going to fuck up your sleeves, you know that, right?” Another shrug, this time with an added humming noise, just for fun. Honestly, you weren’t even sure why Cassandra was hanging out, let alone why she cared if you got your shirt dirty. It’s not like she would be the one to do the laundry. More than that, she was the one who had decided to punish a maiden in the middle of the hallway.
Still, you would never think to voice your questions, or otherwise indicate your feelings. Not that you had feelings about her, or anything, the mere idea of that was ridiculous. For a completely unrelated reason you find yourself glad that she could not see your cheeks from where she stood. Glad I don’t talk, you think, otherwise I’d probably say something really stupid right now. Instead, you focus on your work, scrubbing hard at the floors. Despite your companion’s warning, not even a single drop of blood ends up staining your clothing. That’s why I rolled up my sleeves first, babe!... And that’s why I don’t talk, you think, shaking your head to clear your thoughts.
“That was fast. Sure you didn’t miss a spot?” Cassandra asks, stepping over to where you had cleaned. Before you can protest she’s leaning down to examine the floor. Which would, you know, be fine. If she didn’t have blood (and dirt, and who knows what else) on her gloves, that is. Groaning, you try to slap her wrist, temporarily forgetting your place. Next thing you know she’s pushing you to the ground, on top of you with her hand posed to strike. You flinch, instantly, clamping your eyes shut to prepare for the inevitable. But, just as quickly as she had gotten on you, she climbs right off, refusing to meet your confused gaze, refusing to answer your unspoken questions. “You’re lucky that mother thinks you’re useful,” she spat, leaving you with one last angry huff.
“What the fuck?...” You whisper, as soon as you think she won’t be able to hear you. Of all the things she could have possibly done in response… this was the only one you couldn’t justify. There’s only one thing that could possibly help you cope with your confusion: Cleaning. Thankfully, the same person who had just flipped your mind upside down had also left a few boot prints in her path. Humming softly to yourself, you get right back to work, gleefully ignoring what had just transpired.
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“Why do they do that?” Cassandra snapped, storming into the library, immediately demanding her older sister’s attention. However, Bela does not respond, merely looking up from her book with an eyebrow raised. Frustrated, Cassandra sits down at the table before slamming her fists onto it. At this, Bela sets her book to the side, realizing that she couldn’t ignore this tantrum. “Oh come on, you know exactly who I’m talking about!”
“Yes, I do, because they’re the only person you’ve given a damn about in a decade, maybe longer,” Bela replies, rolling her eyes. “But that doesn’t mean I have any clue what you’re complaining about this time. What did they do, hmm? Did they brush their hand up against yours? Make a heart with their hands again? Oh, let me guess, they smiled when you walked into the room.” At this point, Cassandra was nothing if not predictable, much to her own frustration. How often had she come to her sister, in confidence, to have this very conversation? Countless times, and never once with a clear goal in mind.
Just a head full of thoughts of you.
“They touched me,” she admits, after a few seconds of agonizing silence. The words feel heavy and wrong on her tongue, like they were coated in syrup, too sweet to be anything other than sickening. “Slapped my hand away like I was a kid sticking a fork in an outlet, for fuck’s sake! Who do they think I am?” Now those words felt better. Angrier- left a worse taste in her mouth, but easier to swallow.
“That depends, were you trying to stick a fork into an outlet? Sounds like the sort of thing you’d do to impress them,” Bela teases, laughing even when her arm gets smacked in retaliation. “Maybe you should just ask them, then, if you can’t fathom why they might touch you. Or you could simply wallow in self pity for another decade, pretending to hate their guts when really you’re desperate to get laid?”
“When did you get so rude?” Cassandra snaps, standing up with a scowl.
“Oh, probably about the eighth time we had this talk?” Bela replies, quick as a whip, smiling all the while. If she was going to have to endure this sort of thing this often, she might as well have some fun with it. But this appeared to be the end of this particular conversation, with a miffed Cassandra making her exit, once more leaving Bela to read in peace… for a while, at least.
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She can’t find you. She’s looked just about everywhere, asked every maiden she’s come across, and all any of them had to say were nervous apologies. Where were you? Why were you absent, now of all times, when she had finally decided to speak to you? Curse my luck, Cassandra thinks, barely restraining herself from wreaking havoc on her surroundings. Though maybe they’ll show up to take care of my mess, she muses, then thinks better of it when she imagines your exhausted expression. After all, there was only one place left for her to look: Your personal quarters. If you weren’t there, then, well, there’d be a new problem entirely.
“They better have a damn good reason for hiding away,” Cassandra mumbles under her breath. Then she’s opening the door to your room, not bothering to knock. What could you want to hide from her anyway? “Oh shit.” Evidently she hadn’t thought this through. There you were, asleep in bed, shirtless, a washcloth on your forehead. Every muscle in your body seemed to be shivering, and the occasional weak murmur leaves your lips. It doesn’t take more than a moment for Cassandra to act. Clearly you’re cold, hence the shaking, regardless of how warm it feels to her. So she’s grabbing a blanket from your dresser, quickly covering you with it. “Is that better?”
You don’t respond. Not that she truly expected you to. But the way you continue to shake has her even more concerned, and a trace of panic starts to set in. She searches for other blankets, laying them on top of you, confused as to why you aren’t getting better. C’mon, asshole, she thinks, I’m trying to help you! As if summoned by her frustrations, a maiden soon swings the door open, freezing in place when they see her. Instantly she’s whirling around to face them, a cruel remark dying in her throat. Of course it was one of her mother’s favorites. Eventually, she would have to find someone else to take her frustrations out on.
“Lady Cassandra? What are you-” Cynthia, senior staff member of Castle Dimitrescu, veteran of more than five years, starts to ask. But once she spies the pile of blankets on top of you… well, her eyes go wide. “Damn it, my Lady, you’re going to kill them!” With that said she’s rushing forward, setting down a basket of who-knows-what on your nightstand, before quickly removing the extra sheets. Half confused, half furious, Cassandra stands nearby, unable to decide how to react. Perhaps noticing this, Cynthia is quick to explain her actions. “They have a fever, the worst one I’ve seen in all of my years here. They may be shivering, but trust me, their skin might as well be on fire.”
“I was just trying to help,” Cassandra defends, words rushing out before she can stop herself. Fuck, this was embarrassing.
“Clearly, and I don’t blame you. Let’s just be glad that I came to check on them, hmm?” Cynthia suggests, giving an oddly motherly (i.e. reassuring) smile. On one hand, Cassandra doesn’t appreciate being talked to like this, at least not by someone other than her mother. On the other hand, well, she is glad that she hadn’t accidentally killed you. Taking a moment to let her heart rate slow back down, Cassandra moves to lean against the wall closest to you. She can’t help but frown when she sees the way your eyes flurry about beneath their lids. What are you dreaming about? Is it a nightmare, she wonders, or something softer, like you deserve?
“Can… can I help?” She asks, voice hardly more than a whisper. It was too late to save herself from embarrassment, but it wasn’t too late to contribute to your recovery. Or at least that’s what she hoped. There’s relative silence for a few moments, as Cynthia thinks over her words, swapping out the damp washcloth on your forehead all the while. When she finally replies, she does not look up from her task. Always the professional.
“Stay with them. If they get worse, come find me immediately. If they wake up, try to get them to drink some water, and ask if they’ve been injured recently. I couldn’t find any wounds on them, but this mess reeks of an infection,” Cynthia says. Opening the basket she had brought in with her, she removes several bottles from within, examining their labels with a tight-lipped frown. “None of these will do shit- pardon my language, my Lady- if it’s an infection, but it should help them fight off the fever until I can get them some proper antibiotics. Well, until the Duke can, that is. Make sure to ask them if they have any allergies to medicine before you give them anything, and please read the directions. They only need to take one kind of pill, alright? I only brought a few kinds in case they can’t have certain ones. Is that clear, Lady Cassandra?”
“Crystal clear,” she chimes, only briefly looking away from you. It’s enough for Cynthia, however, and she leaves with a simple bow. Once more alone with you, Cassandra approaches, gently taking your hand within her own. “You’d better wake up soon. I don’t want to have to babysit you all day…” Doesn’t want to, but would, if that’s what you needed. Wouldn’t hesitate for even a second. At most, she’d make someone fetch her a book to read while she waited. Except… now that she glanced around your room, she found that there were some things to keep her entertained. Like your beloved notepad.
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What do you mean? I don’t think she feels that way about me. Don’t be ridiculous, she doesn’t like anyone. Because I pay attention to her! It’s not hard to know what she does and does not appreciate, you just need to observe her. No, not like that, don’t be gross. Keep teasing me and my cheeks won’t be the only thing around here that’s red. Oh fuck off, fine, I’ll go talk to her, but you owe me one. Then the page ends, with the next two having been torn out. A few letters here and there are still legible, on what little remains of the missing pieces. Lov- and want her- and wish. Try as she might, Cassandra cannot find the rest of the pages. What had you possibly written that would make you discard all evidence? It’s not like anyone normally went through your notepad. Had you predicted that one day Cassandra would do this?
“Damn it, damn it, damn it!” She growls, dropping the object with an angry sigh. “Who the hell were you writing about? Who were you fucking talking to? Why won’t you wake up, you goddamn asshole?” Through all of her shouting, you do nothing but shake in place, shivering against a non existent cold. Several hours had passed since Cassandra’s arrival, without you doing so much as batting an eye. Slowly but surely, she was being driven insane, exhausted from worry and jealousy alike. Strange how the most obvious answer eluded her so consistently… Yet hope does not entirely abandon her, as eventually her tantrum manages to pierce the haze around your overheating mind.
“Shhhhhhh. Please,” you mumble, eyes still closed, hardly aware of anything around you. All you really knew was that someone was being insufferable. Hell, your fever was driving you wild, and you didn’t even think about the fact that you hadn’t spoken out loud in front of anyone for over three months. Later, after you recovered, you would be glad that it was Cassandra who finally heard your voice. “Inside voice, mhm? Sleepy time…”
“Did- did you just?” Cassandra asks, stunned, shaking her head as if it might make her realize she was dreaming. But no, this was real, and you really had just spoken to her. It’s enough of a shock to render her speechless for a minute or so.
“Thanks, babe. Need to sleep this off. Or… no, wait, I was supposed to tell someone something?” You ramble, trying to sit up, a hand instinctively going to hold your head. The washcloth falls off of you, and you stare at it in confusion. Before you can start questioning the nature of it’s (or your own) existence, you are distracted by Cassandra, who has traded her own perplexion for determination. Next thing you know, you’re quietly sipping at a glass of water. Exhausted, despite having just been asleep, you eye the nearby medicine with curiosity. “I’m… supposed to tell Cassandra something, maybe? Fuck, why is it so warm in here?”
“You have a fever, dumbass,” Cassandra replies, once more finding her voice, still too overwhelmed to process what’s happening. “Look, you have to take something for your head, okay? Then we can… then we can talk about your feelings all you want, okay?” Maybe she was being a bit presumptuous about what you needed to talk about. Or maybe she was just, for once in her life, being hopeful. Regardless, she presents the medicine to you, getting ready to ask about allergies. Before she can, however, you’ve silently reached for the Ibuprofen and started opening it up.
“This’ll do. For the head, not for talking. We don’t-” you pause to take the pills, gulping down half a glass of water with them- “we don’t talk about that. Feelings. Makes her get mad, and I don’t want her to be mad,” you say, shuddering a little at the thought.
“I won’t get mad this time. Besides, you don’t normally talk at all,” Cassandra replies, rolling her eyes again. Finally, for the first time since waking up, you take a good, long look in her direction. Suddenly you’re putting the pieces together, groaning in protest when you do. How had you not realized? How deep into this fever were you?... “Don’t tell me you just figured it out, ‘babe’? I’m amazed you’re functioning at all right now.”
“Fuck you, Cassie,” you snap, mostly teasing. If she wasn’t freaking out about what you had said, well, then maybe you didn’t need to say much more at all. “You’ll still like me when I’m awake enough to be too scared to talk, right?”
“Honestly?... I was hoping this would be more of a permanent thing,” she admits, refusing to meet your gaze as she puts away the unused medicine. “But I guess I can live with being the only one who knows what your voice sounds like. So don’t you dare fucking talk to anyone else, alright?” She’s joking now, too, sounding more relaxed than she usually was. Even with your body fighting against itself, you can’t help but laugh with her. Then she’s slowly sitting on the edge of your bed, next to you, watching you with adoration clear in her eyes. “You’re going to be fine, right? Because if you die on me, I swear I’m going to kill you.”
“With you as my nurse? I’ll be lucky to last the night,” you joke, pretending to whimper when she gives you a playful slap on the arm. “Nah, nah, I’ll be alright, just as soon as I get some rest. Probably. Maybe you should, uh, stay with me? Just in case.” Next thing you know, Cassandra is pushing you down against the mattress, placing a surprisingly soft kiss to your forehead. Then she puts the washcloth back on you, making sure it’s still somewhat cold. Without another word she settles in, leaning against the backboard of the bed, close enough for you to feel her warmth, but far enough that she wouldn’t risk raising your temperature. “Goodnight, Cass,” you murmur, before letting yourself drift back to sleep...
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The Sanguine Web - Part 1
Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader
A/N: I hope you guys enjoy this, it is the first part of my 100 follower special, the other parts are coming shortly. I’ve been really wanting to a Hanahaki fic for awhile so here it is. I also want to do some different soulmate au’s so those will be coming soon! Love you guys so much xx
Warnings: Angst, mentions of death and blood
Summary: You try to figure out how to tell your friends your sick
Prompts
Masterlist
⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒
(y/n)’s pov
“I know this diagnosis is scary, but we’ve got a quite few options now,” Dr. Shaw smiled, though it felt a little backhanded, “Not, the only way we can guarantee your safe recovery is removal of the infection, but the good news there are plenty of doctors in the city who know how to perform the surgery so it wouldn’t take us very long at all to get you in. Alternatively, having your feelings requited will lead to the infection dying off on its own, or, you can try to resolve your own feelings. If you’d rather pursue one of those then a good first step is talking to them, as scary as that may be.”
“Okay,” I have to let everything soak in for just a minute, “Is the surgery risky?” “The actual surgery is very safe, though it will lead to the removal of your feelings for that person. The only real risk is the chance that it prevents you from falling in love in the future.”
“What are the chances that happens?”
“It’s about fifty fifty, and unfortunately there isn’t really a way for us to tell if that will be you, it’s just a risk we have to take,” she clasps her arms in front of her, “I’m not asking you to decide today, you’ve caught this very early so we’ve got a bit of time to figure things out. Until then I can recommend a therapist who specializes in Hanahaki’s, and there’s some antibiotics I can prescribe you that will help slow the infection.”
“Okay, thank you,” I swallow the lump forming in my throat, “I think maybe I’ll try and talk to him and work it out that way.”
She nodded, “Okay, most patients opt to try that first. We can still get you into surgery later if that doesn’t work out.”
“How late can I opt in?”
“Up until the infection starts spreading, once it’s outside of your lungs the surgery won’t do anything. However, if your feelings were to change at that point or your feelings are requited, there is still a chance you’d be able to pull through,” she began scribbling things onto a notepad, “That’s still far off right now, but this disease it unpredictable, so we’ll need you to come in every week for blood work and xrays. We’ll monitor everything very closely so we’ll know if we start getting close to the point of no return so to speak.”
“Alright, I guess straight to the pharmacy then?”
She nodded, “Good girl, and you call us if you need anything. If things feel like they’re accelerating or you start coughing up a lot straight to the hospital okay?”
I nod, “Okay, thank you.”
“Of course, I’ll see you next week.”
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆   。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
I took the subway to the pharmacy stuck in an odd state of numbness. Part of me wanted to cry, or scream, but I just didn’t do anything. I’m in shock until the woman behind the pharmacy counter begins speaking to me.
“Alright sweetheart what can I do for you?” “Just getting this filled,” I hand her my prescription with a forced smile.
She takes the paper, squinting at it before frowning, “Oh my…” she types a few things and sighs, “I’ll be right back,” I drum my fingers nervously on the counter while I wait for her to return, finally she does carrying a little white bag, “I know this isn’t totally appropriate but I know they only prescribe this for one thing and…” she trails off for a second, starting to blush, “Well my girlfriend had Hanahaki’s too, and she was really scared, but she ended up telling me how she felt and it was great, she recovered just like that,” she offers me a sympathetic smile, “I know this is hard but you should talk to them, I’m sure whoever they are, they’ll at least want to help.”
It’s sweet of her to say, so I thank her and shove the bag in my purse on my way out. I’m sure Peter would want to help, but he’s with someone else, and they love each other. I don’t get to confess and clear things up and live happily ever after. I have to move on, it’s the only option for me. I’m not getting that surgery and risking never falling in love again. That’s not fair. Just because I fell for the wrong person this time I have to never love again? Or die? 
I’m tearing up when I get home, and unfortunately everyone is already over. 
Betty beams at me from the couch, “Hey, how’d it go?”
“Good,” my voice shakes a little, “They think it’s just, um, allergies. I’ve got some pills that should start clearing it up.”
She nods, though all of them look a little concerned, “You’re gonna be okay then right?”
I lie through my teeth, “Nothing life threatening.”
“Okay…” she seems to buy it, but I’m sure she’ll end up drilling me on it later, “You wanna join us then?” “Sure, just, uh, give me a second,” I retreat to my bedroom, dumping my purse and jacket before clutching myself tight. I just want to cry, but I have to wait, everyone’s going to know something is wrong if I try to hide out.
I return to the living room after consoluling myself for a minute, taking a seat besides Betty on the couch, “We ordered pizza,” MJ smiles, “I got that veggie one I was telling you about.”
“Hope it’s good,” I bite my cheek, I feel guilty even talking to her.
“It’s amazing, you’re gonna love it,” she insists. 
Betty’s eyes bore into me suspiciously, “Are they really sure it’s just allergies?”
I nod, “Of course Betty, I promise I don’t need a lung transplant or something.”
“Are you sure?” she presses, “There was blood.”
“Blood?” MJ raises a brow.
Betty nods, “Yeah, she was coughing up blood last night, that’s why she even went to the doctor. It seemed worse than allergies.”
“My throat was just dry,” I try to explain, “I promise I’m fine, it’s just something in the air right now.”
“Okay,” she lets up, “But if you do need a lung transplant I’ve got you.”
“And maybe if you give (y/n) one of your lungs you two will get some sort of psychic connection,” Ned interjected, “I bet they’d make a tv show about you guys.”
Everyone starts laughing, and for the first time that day I let myself glance up at Peter. He’s so pretty, and so is his laugh, but before I can appreciate either of those things I start coughing. It’s an almost instant reminder that I can’t do that. Something tickles in my throat so I quickly stand up.
“Are you okay?” Peter frowns at me. I nod quickly, “Just need some water,” I cover my mouth with my hand as I struggle to pour myself some water. 
I bend over the sink to make sure none of them can see the petal I cough up. I know it must be a begonia. Last finals week was really stressful for me, and in the middle of the week Peter had dragged me away from the cave I was studying in to relax for a while. He took me to this cute little market and bought me some flowers while we were out, begonias.
I shove the petal down the garbage disposal and wash away the blood, I’ll have to figure out what to do when I start coughing up more, full flowers too. 
“Are you sure you're good?” Betty questions when I stand back up, I swear she has xray vision or something. 
“Yeah, better now,” I take a big swig of my water, “I’ll be good as new in a few days.”
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆   。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
“Make yourself comfortable,” Dr. Morrison picks a notebook up off her desk. She seems very nice, I just hope she’ll be able to help me work through some of my feelings, “I’m really glad you came here, therapy can be scary, especially in your situation, so coming here is already a step in the right direction.”
“Thanks, I’m still a little nervous, but anything to help.”
She gives one kurt nod and glances down at her notepad, “Absolutely. I’d like to know what your intention is here so I can know how to help you best. Do you intend to get surgery?” I shake my head, “No, I’m not gonna get the surgery. I want to just try and move on.”
“Alright, is this person aware of your feelings?”
I shake my head, “No, he’s with someone else so that isn’t really an option for me.”
She nods, “Okay, can I ask his name?”
“Peter.”
“Peter,” she repeats, scribbling a few things down, “Are you two close?”
“Yeah, he’s my best friend.”
“Is he aware that you're sick?”
“No, I haven’t told anyone yet.”
“Why’s that?”
“I know they’d ask who and I don’t know what to tell them yet, and it’s still new. I mean I want to tell them eventually, but I think I still need some time.”
“Of course, you need to process everything first, that’s perfectly reasonable. I do encourage you to tell them though, having a good support system is going to help you feel a lot better, and you can always let them know you just don’t feel comfortable telling them who it is.”
“I will.”
She smiled, “So, what do you like about Peter?”
I blush, “Everything I guess, he’s smart and he’s funny and I always feel really good when I’m with him. I don’t know, we just kind of click.”
“You two spend a lot of time together?”
I nod, “Yeah, we hang out all the time, I probably see him more than my actual roommate.”
“How would you feel about spending less time together?”
“He’s my best friend, why would I do that?”
“Separation is going to help you move on, I’m not saying stop being friends or avoid him, but giving yourself space from him is going to be good for you.”
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆   。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
I feel like therapy went well, I feel more hopeful when we finish, although I’m definitely tired. She told me the goal is to get me really comfortable with my feelings so I can move on. I decided to set myself a goal afterwards, I want to tell Betty before my next session, a week from today. I can’t hide it from her for too long anyway, we live together after all, and she’s already convinced there’s something more than just allergies going on. I debate even telling her when I get home, but Peter and Ned are in the living room, and I’m still not sure I’m ready.
“Hey,” Peter smiles to me as I walk in, “How was work?” “Fine. I didn’t realize you guys were coming over.”
“Oh yeah, we’re going to the movies. You should come, MJ is gonna meet us there.”
Dr. Morrison said separation is good, and I don’t really want to be their fifth wheel anyway.
“I think I’ll stay home,” I clutch my purse nervously, “Thanks for offering though.”
His lips pulled to a slight frown, “You sure? MJ picked some weird art film, it’d be more fun if you came.”
“Yeah, work was actually pretty tiring and I still have a bit of homework…”
“Okay,” his cheeks just barely dust pink, “Next time then?”
I nod, “Of course, you guys have fun,” I scurried to my room as quick as I could.
I don’t know what exactly made me start crying, I mean I’ve cried every night this week so maybe it’s just the overwhelming feelings again, but I think it was Peter. I don’t want to have to pull away from my best friend, I just wish I loved him the way I was supposed to. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, it just makes me feel gross. 
I end up hiding out until they leave, then I return to the kitchen for some hot cocoa and comfort food. I calm down a bit, but I’m still a little teary eyed when I pass out on the couch. I don’t know how long I get to sleep for, but what ends up waking me up is the front door opening. I peer through groggy sleepy eyes, expecting to find Betty, ready to scold me for not going to bed.
What I didn’t expect was Peter. 
He bent down beside me and set a hand on my cheek, “Wake up sleepy head, I know this couch isn’t that comfortable.”
“Hey,” I yawn before rolling onto my back, I push my arms up in an attempt to push the sleepiness out of my body, “Where is everyone?”
“Betty is back at mine and Ned’s, I came by just to talk to you, but it can wait,” he smiles and offers me a hand, “Come on bunny, I’ll take you to bed.”
I shake my head, “I’m up, what did you want to talk about?”
He blushes, “Let me help you to bed first.”
“I’m a big girl Peter, I can put myself to bed. What’s on your mind?”
He sits besides me with a sigh, “It wanted to make sure you’re okay, you’ve just seemed a little off this week.”
“It’s just allergies P, I’ll feel better in no time.”
“I don’t think so,” he frowns, “I don’t think allergies forget how to talk to your best friend.” 
“I didn't, I just don’t feel very good.”
“Are you sure? You know you can tell me if you’re upset with me or something…”
I laugh, “Peter why would I be upset with you?”
“I don’t know, you’ve just seemed off every time I’ve seen you this week.”
“Well it’s not you Peter, I just don’t feel very good. If I were upset with you I would just tell you.”
“Okay,” he accepts my answer though he doesn’t seem totally satisfied by it. Who am I kidding? It’s Peter, he always knows when something’s up. “You know I’m always here for you right?”
I nod, “I’m here for you too Peter.”
He wraps an arm around my neck and kisses the top of my head, “We could hang out for a little while, play some games or something.”
“I’m still pretty tired, I think I’m just gonna go to bed,” I blush as I stand, “Maybe some other time.”
His smile falls but he nods, “Okay, but it has to be soon. I miss hanging out.”
“Soon,” I agree, “I miss it too.”
He stands and pulls me into a hug, placing another kiss on the top of my head, “I’m sorry about whatever’s going on, you know I love you tons.”
It takes every ounce of my willpower not to burst into tears, to not break down and just tell him the truth. I can’t though, I know I can’t. It’s not his fault he doesn’t love me the way that would fix everything, he loves someone else and I want that for him, even if it makes me jealous, even if it kills me. I just want Peter to be happy. 
“I love you too.”
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆   。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
This morning Betty nearly caught me tossing a petal out the window, making it very clear that I’ll have to tell her soon. I’d much rather tell her than have her just find out, I just don’t know how. I think I should just sit her down and tell her, but I just want to sugar coat it somehow, make it seem better than it is. I’m trying to figure out some way to do that when I get called up to the pharmacy counter. I barely even realize I know the girl behind the counter this time. Adeline, MJ’s roommate.
“Oh hey,” she smiles to me, “Are you okay with me filling your prescription? I can totally grab someone else.”
I know she’ll know if I let her fill the prescription, it’s a little scary, but there’s enough separation between us that it feels okay, like a warm up.
“I don’t mind,” I smile back, “Just don’t tell everyone about the pills I’m popping.”
She laughs, “I’ll keep it to myself,” she turns to her computer, typing away before squinting at the screen, then it seems to hit her, “(y/n)...” she turns to me with a frown, “Do you?...”
I nod, “Yeah, but like I said, don’t tell anyone.”
“Of course,” she pursed her lips, “I’ll be right back.”
It was worse than I thought, Adeline and I aren’t super close, we get along, but we never hang out outside of group get togethers or parties. I didn’t expect her to look so upset or concerned, I thought she’d just tell me she was sorry, that she hoped I got better. It makes me scared of how everyone else is going to react.
“Here you go,” she frowned as she passed the little white bag to me, “You haven’t told anyone?”
I shake my head, “Not yet.”
“Really? Not even Betty, o-or Peter?”
“No one, I’m going to, just kind of figuring out how.”
She nods, “Yeah, I can’t imagine. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay, I’m gonna get better, it’s just a little scary for now.”
“Of course,” she smiles, but it’s one of those sad smiles I have a hard time looking at, “I, um, if there’s anything I can do just let me know. I could help you tell everyone,” she blushed suddenly, “When you’re ready of course. Just, uh, maybe it’d be easier to get it out of the way all at once you know?”
“Thank you.” It’s not a bad idea actually, maybe it would be easier than telling everyone individually. Then I just have to explain it once and answer all the questions once. I don’t have to answer all the questions over and over. It might balance out the reactions too. “That might be nicer actually, and you could probably help explain the medical stuff a bit more.”
She nodded, “Yeah, definitely, I mean do it however you need to, but if I can help in any way just let me know.”
“Thanks Adeline, I’ll think about it,” I give her an awkward little wave as I walk away.
I start making a pros and cons list in mind, weighing both of my options to try and figure out the best way to go about this, of course my thoughts are then interrupted by a phone call. Peter.
He’s been trying to get together, and this time I really have been avoiding him, following the advice of my therapist. I don’t know if it’s helping, I think about him just as much, the thoughts are just sadder now, but it’s what I have to do. My therapist knows how to get me better, and I have to get better or I’ll never get to see him, or anyone. It would be so much easier if I could just tell him that, I hate lying to him. 
“Hello?”
“Hey bunny,” he sounds chipper as ever, “How are you?”
“Good, how are you?”
“Well I’m okay right now, but I would be a thousand times better if you came over and helped me study?”
“I can’t, I’m sorry,” I glance around me, trying to think of something, “I have to go grocery shopping.”
“How about I come help you then?”
“I thought you needed to study?”
“I do but,” he pauses for a minute, “I know you said you aren’t avoiding me, but you know it went from not talking as much to suddenly we haven’t even seen each other in days.”
“Well why do we need to hang out all the time anyway? Just go hang out with MJ.” 
I don’t mean to sound as angry as I do, I’m just so frustrated. It’s not easy keeping this all to myself.
He stays quiet and then sighs. “You’ve been acting weird since you went to the doctor, I’m just trying to figure out what’s going on. I’m worried about you.”
“Nothing’s going on Peter,” I frown and wrap an arm around myself, “I’m just busy today alright?”
“You’re busy everyday.”
“I’m not, I’m just busy right now…” I sigh and hang up, I just don’t really know what to say to him.
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆   。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
After my awkward phone call with Peter I decided it would be best for me to tell everyone at once. I just need to get it out of the way, rip the bandaid off. So I texted Adeline, and she proposed that she and MJ would have everyone at their place to hang out today. She said it was gonna just be dinner and some party games, and everyone agreed to go. I told Betty and Ned I’d meet them there so I’d have a bit of alone time to get ready. I wanted just a bit alone just to prepare what I’m going to say and everything, I want this to go well. I want to walk into therapy tomorrow and tell her all about how I told my friends and I have this amazing support system.
A coughing fit interrupts my attempt to hype myself up in the mirror, it’s much more violent than they have been. The petals tickle a bit, and there’s usually a bit of blood, but it’s never like this. As a bit of blood splatters in the sink I hear what I assume is Betty coming back to retrieve some forgotten item. I kick the bathroom door closed and hope she just ignores me. Instead the door almost instantly starts creaking open.
“I’m fine!” I lean over the sink, trying to cover it with my hair, “Just give me a second!” I choke on my words.
The hand that’s set on my back is distinctly not Betty’s, “Jesus Christ are yo-” Peter stops mid sentence, just as the full flower falls out of my mouth, followed by a streak of blood. The full ones are much harder to cough up than the petals.
“I’m fine,” I quickly try to think of someway to explain this, “That was just in my hai-”
He seizes my wrist as I attempt to turn on the sink and wash away the evidence, “Did you cough up that flower?”
I flush, “Did you break into my house?”
“Betty gave me her keys so I could pick you up and figure out why you’ve been avoiding me! Now tell me what the hell is going on!” he demanded in the most concerned, Peter-like way he possibly could. 
I take a deep breath, glancing at the mess in the sink before I finally answer, “I have Hanahaki’s disease.”
His eyes dart between me and the sink, seeming to debate his next words carefully, “How long have you known?”
“About two weeks.”
“Were you even going to tell me?”
I nodded, “I was going to tell everyone tonight.”
He dropped my wrist and pushed a hand through his hair, I couldn’t even look him in the eyes, “W-Well it’s not that bad right? I mean there’s surgery, a-and I’m sure if you just talk to him he probably feels the same way.”
“He’s with someone else Peter, he doesn’t feel the same way.”
“That doesn’t mean he doesn’t also love you.” When I finally did meet his eyes they were glossy, and his cheeks were red.
“He doesn’t Peter, I just have to move on.”
“I’m sure he does, just tell me who and we ca-”
“I’m not telling you who he is. This isn’t his fault and I don’t want anyone to blame him or make him feel bad about it.”
“It is his fault!” he snapped before sighing, “Okay fine, you don’t want to talk to him, but there’s still surgery right? I know surgery is scary but this one’s pretty safe isn’t it?”
I nod, “It is, but there’s the risk of me not being able to love anyone again, so I’m not getting the surgery.”
“What?”
“I’m not getting the surgery, I’m just going to have to move on.”
“Okay but if that doesn’t work you’re going to get the surgery right?”
My cheeks dust pink as I shake my head, “No.”
His jaw is locked, his whole body tense, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him that angry. “You have to get it.”
“I’m not getting the surgery Peter, but you don’t need to worry about me, I’m gonna move on and get better.”
“Are you kidding me?!” he snaps, “Telling me you’ll get better isn’t good enough! I understand if you want to try and move on first, but if that doesn’t work then you’re getting that surgery.”
“I’m not getting it at all Peter.”
“So you’re just going to die?!” his bottom lip started quivering, it startled me, I didn’t expect anyone to cry, “I’m not going to lose you just because some asshole doesn’t love you back! It’s not fair and I’m not letting it happen!”
“It’s not your choice Peter,” I hug myself because I have no idea what else to do, “Nothing is going to happen to me, I’ll be able to move on and I’ll be just fine. But, if for some reason that doesn’t happen, I really need you to respect my decision on this.”
A couple tears fell down his cheeks and he shook his head, “You cannot ask me to just sit back and watch you die.”
“I’m not, Peter I am going to be fine. I’m on medication that helps slow it down, and I’m seeing a therapist who specializes in Hanahaki’s, she’ll help me move on and I’ll be okay.”
“That isn’t good enough. There’s no guarantee you get better that way and that isn’t good enough for me.”
“I’m sorry Peter, but I can’t give you any other answers. I’m not getting the surgery, even if that kills me. I know that isn’t what you want to hear, and I’m so sorry, but that’s all I can give you.”
A few more tears escape and he pulls me into a hug. I wrapped my arms around his neck and went to my waist. We stay that way for a second, he rests his head atop mine while I wonder what to do. I don’t really know how to make him feel better, I don’t even know if I can.
Peter is the one to finally break the silence. “Who is he?”
“It’s not important Peter.” “Yes it is! You think he’s worth dying over!” his voice cracks and I pull away. It’s really hard to see him cry, and I can feel my own eyes starting to sting at the sight. “You won’t even reconsider it for your best friend so I wanna know what’s so fucking great about him.”
I start crying while I realize I can’t ever tell anyone it’s him. I can’t risk Peter finding out, I don’t ever want to put that on him. “It’s not about who he is Peter, I just don’t want to risk never falling in love with anyone ever again. I know some people are okay with that, but I’m not, love is important to me and I don’t think I’d ever be totally happy knowing I couldn’t have that. None of this is on him, he’s a really great guy, I love him a lot and I know you would to. I don’t want anyone to blame him or be upset with him or anything.”
“Well I hate him,” he snapped, “And it doesn’t matter what you say about him. My mind is made up and I think he’s a dick.”
“You can feel however you need Peter, but he’s a good person, the best I know,” I wiped his eyes, “Can you please keep this just between us for me? I really need to tell everyone on my own terms.”
“I won’t say anything,” he promised before pulling me to him again, “Do you think we could just ditch tonight? I really want to talk, just us, and I want to know what’s going on. I need to be able to help however I can.”
 I nodded, “Yeah, I can make something up.”
He nuzzled his nose against the top of my head before pressing a kiss to the same spot, “Thank you.”
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆   。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
I ended up texting Adeline, who assured me she’d cover for us so we didn’t have to stress out about it. Peter watched my every move while I washed the blood out of the sink and threw the flower out of my bedroom window. Luck for me, he didn’t notice what kind of flower it was, or at least he didn’t comment on it. Actually he just sat on the edge of my bed, honestly I think he was just too caught up in his own thoughts to actually process what was going on. 
“So, did you have some questions?” I asked as I closed my window and took a seat besides him. He nodded, “Yeah, a few. Do you have some kind of timeline of how it’s going to progress?”
“Well the medicine I’m taking will slow everything down, right now it seems like mine is slow moving and my doctor thinks I’ll have a few months, but it’s really unpredictable. Things could get worse very quickly, but she said that’s pretty unlikely in my case. The coughing will get worse and there will be a lot more flowers and blood, but physically I’ll be pretty okay until the end. As for healing, I have until pretty much the last moments for my feelings to be reciprocated or to move on.”
“What about the surgery?”
“They’re able to perform it until the infection moves outside of my lungs. If I get to that point they’ll hospitalize me, but it won’t get to that point.”
“How long would you have if it did?”
“A few days max, I mean they’ll do everything they can to keep me going as long as possible, but there isn’t much they can do at that point.”
He clenched his hands and gave one stiff nod, “You said your therapist specializes in this?”
“Yeah, and she’s really great, she’s going to help me move on and sort out my feelings and all that. She does a lot of work with patients and their families, and she’s got a really good reputation. I really like her so far.”
“Do you think it’s helping so far?” “Well I’ve only gone once so far, but I feel like I can do this. You can look her up if you want, her name is Raina Morrison.”
“I will,” he assured before taking my hands in his, “Are you going to see her again soon?”
“Yeah, tomorrow actually. That’s why I wanted to tell everyone tonight.” He blushed, “I mean it’s still good you told someone right?”
I nodded, “I think so. It was just a little more overwhelming than I thought it would be.” 
I’m a little nervous about seeing her now, I’m worried that telling Peter wasn’t good. She told me separation was a good thing, that it will help me move on, I’m worried I won’t be able to do that now. Peter’s really protective, he cares a lot about everyone, I really love that about him, and I don’t know if I have the heart to tell him that we can’t spend time together. I don’t even know what explanation to give him now.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have freaked out on you like that. I’m sure it’s not good for you.”
“It’s okay, having you guys know will be better for me, I need to have my friends support in this, it’ll make everything easier.”
“Maybe we can just love you enough that he won’t matter anymore,” the smile he gives is weak and forced, he still looks like he might cry again.
I don’t know what to say to make him feel better. I know he loves me plenty, it’s just not the right kind of love.
“Thank you Peter,” I just ended up hugging him again.
He held me tight against his chest, “If you wanted I could help you talk to everyone, even if you end up doing it one on one. Maybe it would be easier to have me there.” 
“It’d be nice to have you there,” I pulled away to keep from crying again, “You, uh, you’ll get it now if I’m a little evasive right?”
A look of confusion overcame his face, “No. What reason could you possibly have to avoid me now?” his bottom lip started quivering again, “You might not… No, I won’t get it, we should be spending every second together that we can.”
“I need alone time to process my feelings, that’s how I’ll get better.”
“Then I won’t say anything!” his cheeks had flushed again in an instant, “I can sit there and be quiet and do nothing, but I need to be there for you. I need to spend as much time with you as I can…”
“Peter you don’t need to start savoring your time with me or make all these precious memories or anything like that. I’m gonna get better,” I squeezed his hands tight and smiled to him, “And it would help a lot if you believed that too, because right now it kind of seems like you’ve already decided I’m going to die.”
“I do believe that, I know you’ll get better,” he sighed, “B-But what if something happens? What if you’re all alone and you just need someone? I should be here, I want to be here.”
How was I ever supposed to argue with that? I can’t tell him he can’t be here for me, I don’t want to tell him he can’t.
“Maybe we should watch a movie or something before we start crying again?”
He nodded and cleared his throat, “Good idea. Maybe something funny?”
“Yeah, I think that’s a good idea.”
We threw on some supposedly funny movie, but I wasn’t really paying attention. I don’t know if Peter was, but he seemed out of it too. We just sort of stared at the screen until everyone came back to my place. I had to get up from where I was laying with Peter and pretend I had food poisoning as Adeline told them. Really I just wanted to go to bed, the day had been extremely draining.
“Hey guys,” I smiled at them, doing my best to look sickly. 
Betty smiled sympathetically to me, “Hey, you feeling any better?”
I nod, “Yeah, I threw up a bit but I think I can just sleep it off. Don’t worry, Peter has babied me plenty.”
 “Well between that and the cough I think you need a little babying,” she wiggled a small container at me, “I brought you left overs for when you feel better.”
“I brought some for you too,” MJ added, flashing Peter a smile, “There in the car.”
“Thanks,” his cheeks dusted pink and I just prayed he wouldn’t give anything away, “I think I’m gonna stay with (y/n) tonight though, just in case she gets worse.”
“I’m sure she’s had enough of you hovering for one night Peter,” her smile dropped almost instantly, “I thought we were hanging out.”
I wonder if they’ve been fighting or something. A wave of guilt washes over me for avoiding Peter, for not asking if there was something he needed to talk about too. 
“We were together last night,” he frowned at her, “You know (y/n) and I haven’t hung out in awhile, and she’s sick, I should stay with her.”
“You two hung out all night and I’m sure her best friend and roommate is more than capable of making sure she doesn’t die in the middle of the night.”
Peter’s jaw clenches and I interject in the fear they may start arguing if I don’t, “Yeah, I mean thank you for taking care of me, but I’ll be fine. I’m probably just going to go to bed anyway, you should go hang out with MJ.”
His cheeks dusted pink and he nodded, “O-Okay, just as long as you're good…”
“I’m good,” I assured, “It’s been a long night, I really just want to get some sleep.”
MJ smiled, “See? You’re driving her crazy, just let the girl get some sleep.”
“I’m just taking care of her,” he snapped.
We were all quiet, Peter and MJ are always so mellow. I mean they act like they’ve been married for forty years, they don’t really fight. As long as I’ve known them they’ve just been… 
Stagnant I guess.
“Well she just said she doesn’t need to be taken care of so no need to smother her, right (y/n)?”
I just nod, “Yeah, I’m good. Peter go hang out with girlfriend, I don’t need to be babysat.”
He frowned, a small huff left his lips before he nodded, “Sure, whatever, let’s just go,” he gave me an awkward sort of side hug and called, “Text me!” before leaving with MJ, both seeming annoyed with the other.
Part 2
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RLD : Cold
Someone asked in the discord server how would the lights be when taking care of your cold~ So here it is
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Scarlet
"Oh no honey" she would coo at you, softly resting her hand on your cheek and rub her thumb sweetly against it while you were sick. Scarlet has had to deal with sick people before, mostly her moms, but they never had enough medicine or any at all to deal with it. Instead, it's common you see her making food, crushing some leaves to make you tea or some more natural ways to get rid of a cold. It's not that she would deny going to buy medicine at all, she simply forgets at all that is an option.
She is careful to not get infected too, but still very lovely and rubbing your cheek or patting your head to sleep. It seems very natural for her to take care of you and give you a nice service at it, even a forehead kiss for taking your medicine or tea so willingly~
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Haru
He'd probably notice when he sees you bobbling on your step and he hurriedly takes you by the waist, making sure you're not passing out. "Oh- Oh no- Uhm-- Wait, wait, I got this" he seems to recollect things in his brain from very old times and nods to himself a lot, like making a mental list and his first thought is simply: Gotta carry you to bed. So he does so, carries you to bed without a second thought and then bites inside his check while he tries to check if he has any medicine... And notices all he has is expired whelp.
Haru actually feels horrible about that and makes a mental note to keep his first aid kit in check more often. He's probably a bit clumsy, will ask his sister and grandma for help through the phone, but he is trying his best to not mess this up. Will end up getting sick himself, but at least he did a decent job at making sure you recovered.
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Nova
He is your best person if you ever get sick or a cold. He figures out way before it develops; it's the watery eyes, the runny nose or the constant clearing of your throat, somehow he seems to just know when it's coming. "Here, take this" he'll bring some vitamins beforehand, and it's very rare your cold will actually develop that badly to start with if you're around around. If you still somehow got a cold, he's got medicine ready and will cook you also very warm food.
Nova is likely to be a bit worried inside over how you caught that cold in the first place, but won't nag you for it and instead focus on your recovery. When you're all better, he will simply be glad and move on with life, maybe taking you out to eat on all that food he denied to give you for not being healthy enough hahaha.
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Leandro
"Oh this cannot be!" he's going 'shush' at you telling it's just a minor cold and taking you to the hospital. Who knows what it could really be!? He'll feel better having a proper diagnosis from a doctor than trying to figure it out himself. With all medicines in his hands, he would then call off his work for the next days, saying he's got more important matters at hand (and he means every word of it).
He's pretty used to staying up at night, so while you sleep, he'll cheek on your temperature or just pout to himself because he doesn't like seeing you sick, it gives him bad memories. You may find him asleep on a couch by your side when you wake up and all small movements will trigger him awake. Eventually, he'll be his usual self once you're all healed up, but he will also show to be really happy for that.
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fanfic-me-up · 5 years ago
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Hiiiiiii can I request Bakugou x fem!reader?? (*≧∀≦*) Maybe he has a crush on you who has a healing quirk and helps recovery girl when it comes to helping the injured, like when class 1-A finishes up training and recovery girl normally sends her to deal with it all the time? She can heal people but it drains her energy so when she finished with it she takes naps on the recovery beds? Idk but thanks!much love❤️❤️❤️
This is a really cute idea! Thank you for requesting 💖 
“Shut up and Heal me”
Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x fem!reader
Word Count: 1.5k+
Warnings: Language (what do you expect, it’s Bakugou lol)
Synopsis: You’re a student at U.A. and Recovery Girl’s apprentice healer. When you push pass your limit to heal Bakugou Katsuki, who knew he cared enough to make sure you heal too.
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“Wake up, dumbass.”
Your shoulder is shaken, abruptly waking you from your nap. A muscular silhouette takes shape as you pry your eyes open.
“Bakugou? Is that you?” Your voice laced with sleep. 
“Nah, it’s Batman.” 
You squint your eyes, still half asleep. Is this a dream? Bakugou rolls his eyes at your inability to detect blatant sarcasm.
“‘Course it’s me, dipshit. Get up.”
You check your phone and groan when you find you only got five minutes worth of valuable shut eye.
“You’re here early.” 
“Aizawa-sensei let us out early!” Midoriya pipes up. He’s chipper for someone who looks one step away from passing out. Any trace of sleep vanishes when you assess his injuries, asking him a series of questions to confirm where he needs medical attention and if it’s life-threatening. You usher him to Recovery Girl’s office so he can get treated immediately. Typical Midoriya - always going plus ultra even for training exercises. 
Bakugou’s no better as you take in the numerous scrapes and bruises raking his body. Despite his beaten-up state, the only open wound is on the right side of his stomach - a small pool of blood seeping through his muscle shirt. He’s been pushing himself much harder in training these past couple weeks and you know it’s the life of a hero, but you’re concerned for him as a healer and as a friend. 
“You gonna stare all day or heal me?”
“Sorry, right, uh.. Take off your shirt and get on the bed.” 
The words escape before you realize the implication. Bakugou raises an eyebrow before snorting.
“Tch. Weirdo.”
You flush as he takes off his shirt, laying down on the bed. The wound running down his abdomen is not deep, but it is long. It’ll be difficult to heal, but you’re always up for a challenge. You wash your hands before activating your quirk. A glowing aura surrounds your hands, transparent in color, but before you can focus on changing the color to heal Bakugou - a spaced out Kaminari stands before you with his signature thumbs up. Snot is running down his nose and his eyes have this blank look like no one’s home. 
“hewwoo?” 
“Oi! Dunceface! To your right!” 
“wa-whee-whaa?” 
That’s Kaminari gibberish for “Where?” Being Recovery Girl’s intern and constantly healing Class 1-A along with other students in the hero course has made you quite familiar with the unusual side effects of overusing one’s quirk. You created a book with translations for Kaminari’s most used gibberish phrases so you can treat him more efficiently. Today, you tried placing his juice box and cookies on the table to the right to see if he can find it himself. But he’s having problems finding what direction is right.
“Your other right, dumbass.” Bakugou growls as Kaminari bends down to look for his juice box under a chair. You giggle as you help him locate his snack before ushering him to one of the recovery beds to take a nap. He knocks out in no time, snoring softly. Bakugou grunts, his hand pressing against the wound on his side. 
“Don’t touch, it could get infected.” 
“Tch. I know, but look.” He releases his hold to show you the blood dripping down his abdomen. You curse for not healing him sooner when he was clearly a higher priority than Kaminari. How could you forget the number one rule as a healer? There’s no time to beat yourself up for it so you grab a cleaning cloth to wipe away the blood before activating your quirk once again. You close your eyes, focusing your energy into what you’re about to do which is close up a wound. Red swirls behind your eyelids and you focus the color down your body to your hands. You open your eyes to find them glowing a bright, luminescent red - a stark contrast to the dim lighting in the room. Bakugou hisses at the touch; your hands trailing along his abdomen. You look up to apologize when you notice Bakugou’s flushed cheeks, as red as your glowing hands.
“Are you okay? You’re a bit flushed.” You deactivate your quirk in your left hand to touch his forehead. It’s cause for concern if he has a fever due to an open wound, but you’re taken aback when Bakugou swats your hand away.
“I’m fine! Shut up and heal me.” He looks away, but you catch the persistent redness now making its way down his neck. You return to healing the wound. It’s almost closed, but you can feel your energy draining quicker than usual since you didn’t have enough time to recover earlier. 
“Hey, you good?” 
“Mhm. Al-most… done…” You bite your lip and clench your eyes shut to concentrate the last of your energy into closing the rest of the wound.
“Don’t push it, dumbass.”  Bakugou grunts and despite the harsh tone, there’s a tinge of concern underneath. 
“Heh.. could say… the same… for..” 
You trail off and your hands glow brighter by the second that you can see red behind your eyelids. You feel the wound seal shut and when you open your eyes you see there’s not a scar in sight. This is the first time you were able to completely heal a wound on your own. You smile at your accomplishment. 
“You can take your hands off.” 
You flush before ripping your hands away. The quick movement gives you a head rush, the room spinning in circles.
“Whoa.” Bakugou grabs you by the shoulders and reverses your position so you’re laying down now. 
“My head hurts…”
“No shit,” Bakugou snorts, “What’d I say about pushing?”
“Go beyond... plus… ultra…”
The last thing you hear is Bakugou laughing, a soft smile curling his lips, before your vision goes black.
------------------------------------------------
You wake up to the smell of roasted coffee and cinnabons. Faint voices go back and forth, but you can’t make out what they’re saying. The light streaming in is gone; the room now darker than before. Jeez how long were you out?
“Took you long enough.”
You whip your head to see Bakugou sitting on a chair and nursing a cup of coffee. The bed next to yours is empty. Kaminari must’ve recovered meaning you’ve slept for more than an hour.
“You stayed.”
“Yeah, and? Wanted to make sure you didn’t die ‘cause of me.” 
City lights shine bright, and the hustle and bustle outside suggests the city isn’t going to sleep anytime soon. Live music roars from nightclubs and people laughing on the street would entice anyone to join the party. It’s pretty hard to believe Bakugou would stay behind on a Friday night when it’s common knowledge that you need to sleep after overusing your quirk. But here he is, that same strip of red running along his cheeks and nose like he just got a cute little sunburn. 
“You like laser tag?” Bakugou asks.
You raise an eyebrow at the random question, shrugging when you answer.
“Never played.”
Bakugou balks, shock written all over his face.
“You never - what kind of person - nevermind. If we hurry, we can make the last round.”
Maybe this time you really were dreaming. You subtly pinch yourself to make sure and nope, this is real life and Bakugou is inviting you to hang out.
“Sounds... fun? But I… um…I’m not really part of your squad…”
You didn’t want to overstep. It seemed like they were a pretty tight-knit group and you’ve never hung out with them outside of school. The fear of ruining their night because you didn’t vibe with them twisted your gut. 
“Gimme your phone,” Bakugou says.
Still in a daze, you give him your phone without question. He takes his phone out and not a second later you hear a “ping” from yours, He presses a couple buttons before handing it back to you. 
“Congrats, you’re part of the squad.”
You see that you’ve been added to a group chat called “keeping up with the crackheads”. You don’t have time to contemplate exactly what you got thrusted into as Bakugou is grabbing both of your jackets hanging on the coat rack, handing yours and pushing you towards the door. 
“I- um.. Thanks… I guess...? Bakugou, what’s going on?”
You’re already halfway down the hallway, everything happening too fast without a clear explanation. Bakugou groans, clearly frustrated that you’re not a mind reader and he has to actually communicate what he’s thinking. He grabs your shoulders, gently shoving your back against the lockers, and planting his hands on either side of you. Being this close to Bakugou makes you feel a familiar flurry of butterflies as you’re caged in and forced to look into those crimson eyes. 
“I. Like. You.” He smirks, getting a kick at your flustered state, before leaning away with his hands in his pockets, “And I know you like me too.”
You don’t know what to freak out over first. The fact that Bakugou knows about your crush or that he likes you back. Also, how does he know you like him? You haven’t told anyone about your crush, preferring to keep your cards close to your chest.
“Don’t talk in your sleep if you don’t want me to know how much you wanna run your hands down my ‘chiseled abs’.”
You squeak and cover your face with your hands, too embarrassed at what else you might’ve said in your sleep.
“Chill, dumbass, it’s cute.”
Bakugou rolls his eyes, throwing an arm over your shoulder, leading you to a night full of riveting laser tag, making new friends, and first kisses. 💖
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cerastes · 4 years ago
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Deeply in love how the Arknights narrative has made it increasingly clear that Reunion is a short-term, introductory enemy without making them seem any less of a threat. They have yet to state it outright, but Reunion is a crumbling, rotting, sinking ship, and there’s a lot more key characters moving behind the scenes that will rise to be the next menace.
It’s easy to see that Reunion’s days are counted just by how crippled its leadership is (spoilers, of course):
Both Skullshatterers die off in Chapter 3.
Faust dies during Chapter 6.
FrostNova dies during the climax of Chapter 6.
Crownslayer is having an existential crisis due to Kal’tsit’s words to her in Chapter 6.
W was a double agent.
Due to Faust’s death, Mephisto has gone into a full psychological breakdown and shows no sign of recovery.
Big Bob and Mudrock both deserted Reunion with significant forces in tow: Big Bob took a squadron big enough that they can make a whole settlement with just them, and needed an actual hidden treasure to finance said venture, which translated into a significant hit into the quantity of Reunion’s forces, whereas Mudrock took her eponymous Mudrock Squadron, smaller in size, but comparatively as strong if not stronger due to this Squadron being composed mostly of Sarkaz, meaning a significant hit to the quality of Reunion’s forces. This is before you even consider the personal leadership and talents of Big Bob and Mudrock themselves: Big Bob, as we saw in his event, is a multitalented leader that can fight extremely well in addition to being a talented tracker and being able to set up ambushes, traps, and negotiations, as well as being able to disrupt these very same things, whereas Mudrock is an immensely powerful Arts user and in many ways comparable to FrostNova, including having her own Squadron with associated, unique Arts users (Yeti Casters for FrostNova, Mudrock Metallurgists for Mudrock) and immense Arts powers that sap into her own life.
This all leaves us with Talulah and Patriot, with the latter being heavily implied to be the next chapter’s antagonist, with all that implies.
The high rate of desertion and the continuous defeats suggest that Reunion won’t be around for too long, despite how important and legitimately threatening they’ve been as a group. It’s incredibly interesting to see how more and more Reunion members become disenfranchised, even in cases where it is not said explicitly, but instead, just by actions:
Faust’s loyalty was not to Reunion as much as it was for Talulah, and even when he knew what they were doing was wrong and it tortured him, he owed too much to Talulah to walk away. He committed to the bitter end, and in the end, his men admired him over the Reunion movement as a whole. Even FrostNova’s Yeti Squadron respected Faust immensely for his moral compass and how much effort he put in. In the end, he chose the only road that allowed him to safeguard innocents and his troops: His own death.
Crownslayer is in for very personal reasons and without much thought otherwise; The moment these reasons were challenged by Kal’tsit, she spiraled out of control, as what she believed to be Truth was suddenly cast in the shadow of Fabrication. Reunion, thus, was first and foremost a means to a personal end, and now that this personal, intimate end was jeopardized, so was her loyalty to the movement.
Patriot outright states he knows Reunion is rotting, but in his eyes, it’s the less rotten of all options. He will try to bring forth some good, even within this rotten movement, because end of the day, it has a virtue no other group, not even Rhodes Island, possesses: Reunion directly opposes the true overlords that oppress the Infected without compromise, which directly leads to his intended endgame.
Big Bob doesn’t state this explicitly, but he heavily implies he was in Reunion before the Talulah reforms, back when Reunion was about peaceful lobbying for better lives for the Infected. Bob’s reasoning to desert while taking his ‘brothers’ and ‘sisters’ is that he feels Talulah’s Reunion cannot possibly bring peace and better lives to the Infected, and that it’s all become an engine that runs on hatred for hatred’s sake, instead of leading to a better future. In his letter to his close friend Mudrock...
...It’s suggested that Mudrock felt the same way herself. Mudrock, just like Big Bob, is first and foremost fighting for a place where her Sarkaz can live peacefully, where they can belong. Reunion seemed like a good idea, but all the looting, all the aimless violence, the outbursts of carnage, they served nothing. Mudrock and one of her Sarkaz even explicitly chastise the Lethunians for using the Reunion name to freely loot and destroy, suggesting Mudrock is also an old guard member of Reunion that initially lobbied for better lives for the infected first and foremost.
Note: It’s important to note that Big Bob and Mudrock both were not adverse to fighting, but their fight has to have a meaning, it has to lead to a better, peaceful tomorow, and they don’t believe there is any of that under Talulah. One of Mudrock’s Sarkaz says “we just go and raze them, that’s the Sarkaz way” in terms of eliminating their enemies, but later also says something to the effect of “we don’t kill senselessly, it all has to have a purpose, violence for violence’s sake is useless”.
So you are left with a movement where only those with nothing to lose and those drunk on hatred remain, where all the competent and intelligent people are either dead or gone, faced with an opponent that serves as their foil, backed by far bigger and more competent sponsors.
...All of which makes me think: If this first villain, Reunion, was this much of a threat nonetheless, just what kind of enemy awaits Rhodes Island after this ship finishes sinking?
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aquietwritingcorner · 3 years ago
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Sicktember Day 13: Appendicitis Word Count: 1587 Author: aquietwritingcorner/realitybreakgirl Rating: G/K Characters: Olivier Mira Armstrong Warning: NA Summary: Olivier isn’t feeling so well. She really should have gone to Doc sooner. Notes: I did minimal research. Hopefully nothing is too egregiously wrong! AO3 || ff.net
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Appendicitis
“General.”
“Hm?” Olivier looked up from the report that she, Miles, and Buccaneer had been going over.
“That’s the sixth time you’ve pressed that spot. Are you alright?”
Miles was looking at her with, what she could read on his usually controlled face, concern. Olivier’s eyes traveled to Buccaneer. He looked mildly concerned as well.
“It’s nothing,” she said dismissively. “I must have pulled something while training.”
Truth be told, she hadn’t realized that she had been pressing at the place again. It had started hurting a couple of days ago, a dull sort of ache that started around her navel. Recently, it had traveled to her side. She hadn’t thought too much of it. Honestly, she had expected the pain to travel to her back, and, eventually, to spread there as her period started. Those were usually painful and difficult, so she had assumed that this was a side effect of that.
The pain had been getting sharper, though.
“Begging the general’s pardon,” Buccaneer said, “but you didn’t show any signs of pulling anything during your training.”
“What, were you watching me?” she growled out. “As if you didn’t have anything better to do!”
Buccaneer grinned at her, that cheeky grin of his. “You know well, sir, that watching you train is a treat.”
She snorted, a harsh snort that started from her belly, and immediately regretted it. It made the pain flare more, and her hand automatically went to it again.
Miles set his report down. “You’ve not been eating either,” he said, with a pointed look at the food that was sitting to the side on her desk. “And you seem to be cold, if the temperature you’re keeping it in here means anything.”
Olivier scowled. “You’re not paid to keep track of my eating habits, Miles. Or monitor the temperature I keep my office.”
“He kind of is, sir,” Buccaneer said. “But he brings up a good point. Are you feeling alright?”
Olivier’s temper flared, and she shot to her feet, suppressing the desire to press on the place again. Standing up like that caused a sharp, stabbing pain to center right on the place, but she refused to show it, letting the pain fuel her irritations and anger instead.
“I’m fine!” she snapped out and turned to head towards the small potbelly stove that was warming the room in the corner. It was warming a teapot, and it was her intention to go over there and pour herself a cup of tea. It would help the nausea she had been experiencing, not that she was going to tell them that.
However, she had barely taken more than three steps before an excruciating pain ripped through her abdomen. She staggered, hands flying to her side, and felt herself dropping to one knee.
“General!” “General!”
Both Miles and Buccaneer called out to her, and she could hear their footsteps rushing over to her. One of them reached her, hands on her shoulders to help guide her the rest of the way down, and she grit her teeth against the pain, grunts and gasps of it still escaping her. It hurt to move. It hurt to be moved. It hurt to breathe, the pain blocking out her awareness of almost everything else, and what was happening around her was quickly becoming nothing more than a blur.
Buccaneer had made it to General Armstrong first, catching her as she went down, his hands holding her and helping to lower her to the ground. She didn’t seem aware of it to either of the men, but instead let out gasps of pain, and curled around her side—around the place she had been pressing on earlier.
Miles, who had also rushed to her side, bolted up and grabbed the phone on her desk. “This is Miles! Get a team from Sickbay up to the General’s office immediately!”
He barely waited for the acknowledgement before he was slamming the phone down and heading back to her side. He didn’t have to ask anything before Buccaneer was speaking.
He had brushed her hair back, his fingers on her pulse point. “Her pulse is fast and she’s hot,” he said. “She’s in pain.” He looked over at Miles. “What happened?”
Miles shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“Next time, we make her see Doc immediately,” Buccaneer growled out.
They both clung to the hope that there would be a next time.
It was only minutes later that footsteps rang in the hallway, voices shouting ahead for people to clear the way. Within minutes Doc was bursting into the room, her medical team on her heels. She wasted no time, heading straight for the general, kneeling at her side.
“What have we got?” she asked brusquely.
“Not sure,” Miles said. “She hadn’t been complaining of anything, but she acted like she was hurting here, on her right side,” he mimed where it had been. “She got up, took about three steps, and then went down.”
“She fell slowly, like she was sinking to her knees,” Buccaneer said. “I caught her, helped her down, but she’s been in pain the whole time.”
Doc had her stethoscope out and was taking Olivier’s pulse when she realized what Miles and Buccaneer had said. Abandoning that, she reached out for Olivier’s right side, looking for the specific area and finding it even though she hadn’t been told where to look. She pressed down, and Olivier let out a strangled sort of cry. Doc cursed.
“Load her up,” she ordered. “Call ahead and have them prep the OR.”
“What’s wrong with her?” Miles asked, as he and Buccaneer moved back out of the way of the medical team.
“With what you’ve described I’m going to guess appendicitis—and there’s a likely chance it’s ruptured.” She shook her head. “I’ll let you know more after the surgery. Appendicitis or not, something is going on in there.”
“Right.”
The two men moved out of the way, letting Doc and her team work, Olivier letting out sounds of pain anytime she was jostled the least little bit. They had her on the litter and whisked away within moments, Doc leading the way.
And then it was just a waiting game.
News spread quickly throughout the fort, and soon all of the men knew. A blanket of concern fell over the fort, something the senior staff of Briggs felt keenly.  No one went in to see how Doc was doing. They all knew that she was doing her best, and to interrupt her would be dangerous. But that didn’t stop people from hovering outside the door a bit.
Finally, hours later, she sent for Buccaneer and Miles. Doc looked tired when they arrived, but she gave them a smile.
“She’ll be fine,” she said, and both men relaxed a bit.
“What happened?” Miles asked.
Doc sat in her chair, reaching for the teapot and a cup. “It was like I thought. Appendicitis. And it had ruptured.”
“How bad was it?” Buccaneer asked.
Doc shook her head. “Not the worst I’ve seen, but definitely serious. I removed her appendix, and then I had to clean up her bowels. I had to cut her open a little more than I wanted to, but it was better than getting in infection.”
“Is that still a possibility?” Miles asked.
Doc nodded as she poured herself some tea. “It is. I’m going to keep her here for at least a week. She’ll give me the usual ‘Armstrongs are fast healers’ bull, I’m sure, but I don’t want her pushing herself too much and I want to watch for infection. You two can keep her busy with paperwork, but nothing strenuous, understand?”
“Yeah, we gotcha, Doc,” Buccaneer said.
Doc waved her hand in the direction of the recovery bays. “You can see her when you want to. I don’t expect her to be awake for a few hours, at least.”
The men both nodded and then, with a look, they headed back to check on her.
They were both there a few hours later when Olivier began to stir.
“Mm… what happened?” she asked groggily.
“You’re in sickbay, General,” Miles said. “You collapsed in your office. Your appendix burst. Doc had to do surgery. You’re going to be alright.”
For a moment, Olivier said nothing. And then she sighed. “Well, this is going to slow down our plans by a couple of days.”
Buccaneer snorted. “Doc said that you’re going to be laid up here for a week.”
“A week?” Olivier snarled. She started to try to sit up, but quickly aborted the motion. “Armstrongs are fast healers. I’ll—”
Buccaneer grinned at her. “Doc said that you’d say that.”
“She was firm on what she said,” Miles said. “And I can’t say I disagree.”
Olivier glared at him.
“However,” he continued, “I’m sure that as long as you’re resting, Doc won’t object to some paperwork.”
Olivier let out a light snort. “…We’ll see,” she said.
“In the meantime, rest, General. We’ll keep watch on the Fort.”
Olivier narrowed her eyes. “You had better.”
Buccaneer grinned at her. “You know we will, sir.”
Olivier just hurmphed and rested back into the bed.
“Catch me up. What’s happened while I was out.”
Miles and Buccaneer began filling her in on the little that had happened while she had been unconscious, and Doc, listening in, let them be. Olivier’s men knew her well, and they would keep her in bed while she healed.
Looking out for each other was the Briggs way, after all.
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crystal-moon-101 · 4 years ago
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Right! So I’ve decided to do some redesigns again, planning on doing the main villains of Generator Rex, Ben 10 and The Secret Saturdays. Vilgax and Argost will be coming up soon, but I thought I’d start with Van Kleiss, as this fellow has been an interest of mine for sometime, in terms of the potential of his character. Unlike the other two, I’ve always just...felt like Van Kleiss didn’t need to be dog kicking evil to be a villain for Rex, that being evil for the sake of evil wasn’t something they needed to do to make him and Rex opposed to each other. I’m not saying to make Van Kleiss soft hearted and kind to every person he meets, but add more of a complicated story to him, show more to this man than just a jerk who likes being a jerk. After all, this is a show about things not being so black and white. So I shall share my rewrite background for him! I should also note that I mentioned in the Hong Kong Gang redesign that Circe is his daughter, so that will tie into this. Warning for mentions of deaths by illnesses and murder!
“Van Kleiss is a man you could say has not had the easiest of life, especially when it comes to social things. Raised by strict parents with high expectations, he felt like he was never good enough for them, eventually kicked out of their home for not living up to their ideals. He wasn’t exactly good with making things either, coming off as odd, a strong loner who was easy to mess with. Most of this resulted in him being anti-social for quite sometime, afraid to reach a out hand to people incase they bite back. Then, while trying to live his young adult life the best he could with what he had, he was caught up in a terrible accident, one that resulted in him losing his left arm. He was stuck in recovery for a long time, with no visitors of course. He was quite use to being alone at this point, a cast out in people’s eyes, so you could imagine his surprise when meeting his physiotherapy, a bright, young woman around his age by the name Cassandra, who was in no way put off by Van Kleiss’s demeanor. He will admit, he was taken aback by how pleasant she was, so chipper and ready to strike up a conversation with him, kind and gentle towards him as she helped him learn to live with a prosthetic, and yet would also respect his boundaries, treating him....human, for a lack of a better word. At first, Van Kleiss was keen to just stay quiet and ignore her, mostly uttering how short sentences to try and make things process quicker. But there was just something about her that made him feel alright, calm, as if those walls he built up to protect himself weren’t needed when she was around. It was like some strange magic Cassandra had, slowly able to get him to open up more, share stories, ideas, goals, dreams, thoughts, never once judging Van Kleiss for the person he is, while others had been so quick to. Quite the people pleasing person she was, the opposite to Van Kleiss, but he wasn’t complaining, especially when the fool started realizing his he beginning to fall head over heels for this woman. He was a bumbling mess when asking her out the first time, and yet it somehow worked. Life seemed to be going up hill since then, the two hitting it off so fast, becoming a couple, then finances, and suddenly marriage was right around the corner. And just when Van Kleiss felt like he didn’t need anyone else other than her, another surprise came in the presence of their daughter, Circe. A family life wasn’t something he had thought about, nor did he think he would ever get the chance, but here he was and he was happy to be there, he had even gone back to school to study. But...he bad luck in life would soon return. Circe had only just turned five when it began to happen, and no one had seen it coming. Cassandra was starting to seem off, tired, dizzy and feeling faint often, at first assuming it was the flu or something...but she didn’t get better, instead getting worse. She started collapsing, struggling to breath, eventually coughing up blood. She had gotten sick, a disease infecting her that had no known cure. The best they could do was pray that she could recover, could beat it, after all she was a tough woman, with a lot of hope and love from her family. Sadly, love isn’t always going to be enough, and Cassandra passed away after saying her final goodbyes to her daughter and husband... Struck with grief, Van Kleiss went quiet, a haze with his manners. He wanted to scream, cry, yell at the world for taking away his love, the one who showed him why he should keep going in life. But he didn’t allow himself, for he had to keep himself steady for the sake of his daughter. Circe needed him, and he was afraid to see what would happen if he gave into those painful feelings of grief inside him. So he locked it away, and pushed forward in life, eventually graduating school and began looking for a job. He applied and worked for a few places, but none of them really stick, especially since he still struggled to get along with people. Many were still uncomfortable around him, or quick to crack a nasty joke at his expense. He did his best to ignore it, again locking it all away, pushing forward for him and his daughter. And then, one day, he caught word of a project in the making. The nanite project, rumors of microscope machines being built to do many tasks, like solve world hunger, regrow limbs and even cure disease. The thought of something able to help others survive something his wife could not...it caught Van Kleiss’s interest, something he could do to honor his late wife. And so, after some applications and interviews, Van Kleiss eventually found himself landing a role in this project, which also meant him and Circe would move to the labs location. It was hard to pull Circe away from the life she already knew, but he felt it was for the better. But there were to noticeable issues right away. Again, the way people saw and treated him, and his general demeanor sparked some problems with other scientists. Most kept it professional, but many cast doubtful or harsh clears his way, or mutter whispers about him. He was use to most of this, though...he did end up caught in quite the nasty rivalry with a certain man. Caesar Salazar. Neither of them knew exactly why, but right from the bat the two did not like each other. Maybe it was because they were similar in many ways, maybe it’s because they both were bad a socializing, maybe each other’s backgrounds caused some sparks. They just could not stand each other, quick to criticize the other and speak badly. It did help that Van Kleiss felt like he had no one backing him up, as many were already familiar with the Salazars and were even friends with them, while Van Kleiss was alone in the ordeal. Strangely though, the opposite could be said with the younger brother, Rex Salazar. It didn’t take long for Circe and Rex to meet and become friends, given they were the only two kids there, which often resulted in Van Kleiss watching and babysitting the two in his lab space, sometimes even getting dragged into their games. He was happy that his daughter wouldn’t be lonely out here, but Rex being her friend wasn’t why he thought the kid was good, it was rather his friendship with Van Kleiss himself. Rex was a lovely kid, very kind and understanding for his age. While he cracked jokes and often got into trouble, he treated Van Kleiss like a human being, and often liked talking to the man and asking him many questions. Van Kleiss was a little stand-offish at first, but the kid managed to soften his heart a little. Things seemed to be going as good as they could for a while, but then things started happening. It first started with Rex’s accident. Van Kleiss had been watching Circe and Rex, but when he got caught in something, the two snuck off to play hide and seek. Next thing anyone knew, Rex got caught in a lab accident in the main nanite room. It took a while to get him out of there, as there had been a lock down to prevent any loss nanites to escape, but he was quick to be rushed to the medical section of the labs. He was found to be close to death, with no normal means to save him, but Rex also had a few nanites in him from the accident. However, instead of taking them out, the nanite project group, including Van Kleiss, decided in the end to try and use the nanites to save him, with the help of the Omega to the side. After a long struggle, it eventually began to work. Things became complicated for Rex, now being used in testing, developing strange technological powers he was struggling to control, now feeling off...different. Van Kleiss and Circe were there to support him, but because Van Kleiss had been the one who was suppose to watch him before the accident, there was tension between the Salazar and Kleiss families. Eventually, while there were new changes, lab life started to go back to focusing on the project, even a new member called Ebony Hale (Black Knight) joining as an assistant. Things started going back to normal, or as normal as they could be, until that fateful day. Word got out in the chief scientist that their sponsors, The Consortium, had no only put a unknown spy among them, but were planning to use the nanites to take over the world. A large debate broke out on what to do, some arguing to destroy the nanites and all the data on them, some saying to keep the project going but find a way to keep the Consortium out of it, and some even saying they just wanted to do the project and didn’t care if the Consortium taking control. Van Kleiss was part of the side saying to keep the work, but kick out the Consortium. But eventually it was decided to destroy the project. But the spy must have caught wind of this, as while they began to remove their work, the Consortium sent in a heavily armed team to take out everyone on the project. During the chaos many things happened. Not having time to get rid of everything, members of the project decide to give Rex the Omega to hold onto, as he has enough experience with nanites to handle it for a few hours. Van Kleiss did try to say otherwise, not thinking it was fear on Rex, especially when his parents and Caesar agreed to this. In the end they did end up giving Rex the Omega, with the plan that he would meet Caesar at the docking bay. Van Kleiss had originally wanted to go with him and take Circe, but next thing they knew armed soldiers came in and everyone spilt. Rex managed to wander by as not only did the soldiers have no interest with the kid, but Ebony, who turned out to be the spy, ended up letting him past without knowing what he was hiding. Van Kleiss and Circe ended up running into Rex’s parents, who were busy trying to wipe the computers. The three parents got into quite the arguments, with Van Kleiss eventually leaving the room with his daughter, only to be confronted by some soldiers. They noted that the room that Van Kleiss just left was locked, so they made him an...offer. Either he unlocks the door and let them in, or they kill him and Circe where they stand. Despite how harsh the Salazars were on Van Kleiss, even he didn’t want to make this choice...but after everything, and looking down at his own daughter...he made the choice to let them in, holding his daughter as they heard gun fire. With everything coming to a head, it suddenly happened. With scientist messing with computers and machines, soldiers raining bullets everything, and Rex off somewhere glitching out with the Omega, it just became too much and the nanite event happened. A massive explosion that sent out a wave of unfinished nanites across the world, and for Van Kleiss, everything went white briefly... Then, he opened his eyes...finding himself feeling different. To his shock, he found himself to be mutated, his prosthetic arm gone, now replaced with an arm of wood and vines, a deep connection to the earth around him. Thankfully, his daughter was still by his side, but she two had changed, with the agility to emit a powerful scream. As days turned to weeks and then to months, Van Kleiss found himself turning his old home into something new...into a place that him and the out cast could belong into...But after everything that happened, the things he lost and was hurt by, he began to put up those walls again. He could no longer risk getting attached, not if he were to complete his goals....” And there we go! My tale about Van Kleiss in my rewrite. It does go into other things that I will eventually write down that happened in this rewrite, but it’s a good place to start as any. I wanted to give him a tragic back story, something that shows why he behaves the way he does today, and how it ties into his goals. I like the idea that he does believe in the dream of turning everyone EVO and ruling them, but so that he can start a new age and era where people don’t have to be out casts anymore. After all, if everyone is different a monster, then no one can be judged, at least in his mindset. So Abysus is a safe haven for EVOs that need a home, and he does want the best for his subject. The only problem is that one, Van Kleiss doesn’t want to get deeply attached to anyone, as many past friendships eventually failed on him, so it’s bound to happen again, and two, he can get a little power made because well, he’s spent so long being the underdog and kick to the ground, so it feels great to be able to be the one standing tall. It also helps make him feel like Rex’s opposite, not only with the nature vs technology design for the two, but the idea that one is someone who wants to get attached to people, while the other is someone who doesn’t want to get attached anymore. A tragic hero and a tragic villain, who have history tied together. Anyway, I hope you enjoy my version of Van Kleiss, and for hearing me ramble! 💙
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kpop-zone · 4 years ago
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Blackpink reaction when their s/o takes care of them when they are sick
Jisoo
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A disturbing noise woke you up from your peaceful slumber, but you were too tired to open your eyes. Blindly, you patted down the bed in order to find your girlfriend because you missed her warm body against yours. But your hand searched in vain, finding nothing but her pillow. Confused, you finally forced your eyelids open and looked around. Her side of the bed was indeed empty, causing you to sit up. It was completely silent now, making it impossible for you to figure out where the weird noise from earlier had come from and where your girlfriend was currently located.
“Jisoo?”
You called out and a moment later the door to the bathroom swung open, revealing your girlfriend who was looking like she had just had the worst night of her life.
“What’s wrong?”
Suddenly you were wide awake and jumped off the bed, but Jisoo held her hand out to stop you from coming closer.
“Nothing. I’m fi-.”
Before your girlfriend could finish her sentence, she slammed her hand in front of her mouth and stumbled back into the bathroom to hang her head over the toilet bowl. Reflexively, you rushed to her, but once more Jisoo pushed you away.
“Go away, Y/N. I’m gross.”
If your girlfriend didn’t look so miserable right now, her statement would have probably made you laugh. But because she did, you simply folded away her stiff-arm that was keeping you away, so that you could stand directly behind her. Gently, you tugged some loose strands of hair behind her ear and rubbed her back soothingly.
“You are not gross, Jisoo. You are sick which means that I have to be there for you even more now.”
You replied determined, ignoring the weak protests of your girlfriend.
Eventually, you helped her back to bed where you rolled her shivering figure into a blanket, making her look like a burrito.
“I’ll be right back. I’ll get you some tea to calm your stomach.”
You said quickly before rushing to the kitchen.
Not even ten minutes later you were back in the bedroom, putting a cup with steaming hot tea and a bowl on the nightstand, just in case your girlfriend had to puke again. Jisoo looked at you heavy-lidded and you slid in behind her, wrapping your arms around her and pressing her gently against your body.
“I’m gonna call in sick first thing tomorrow morning, so I can take care of you. You’ve probably been infected by the kids when you visited your sister last week.”
You thought out loud, causing Jisoo to whip her head around.
“Nooo, you don’t have to stay here. I can take care of myself.”
She interjected and you looked at her disapprovingly.
“And who’s going to cook you a nice soup and be your medicine? You know, I’ve heard that cuddles can improve your health up to 110%”
You replied seriously, causing Jisoo to giggle silently.
“No backchat. I’m staying.”
Realizing that you weren’t going to change your mind, your girlfriend turned in your arms and buried her head in the crook of your neck.
“Thank you, Y/N. I appreciate that.”
She mumbled after a while and you squeezed her lightly.
You knew that she would probably apologize a thousand times for forcing you to stay home but leaving her alone wasn’t even an option for you. Even if she always pretended to be strong, every once in a while, she also deserved to be taken care of. So you would be putting all your love into her recovery.
Jennie
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“It’s fine, Y/N. You can leave me alone. Go to your meeting.”
Jennie weakly pushed you to the front door, asking you to finally leave. Your calendar was fully packed today, and you were already late for your first appointment. But you refused to head out. She had woken up with a nasty headache and a sore throat and you were concerned beyond belief.
“But who’s going to take care of you?”
You protested, trying to wiggle out of her grasp.
“I can take care of myself.”
She answered confidently, although only the thought of being alone today made her depressed.
“I know you can. But you shouldn’t have to...”
You replied and Jennie looked at you helplessly, not knowing how to refute your argument. Using the chance of her speechlessness, you turned the tables and pushed her back towards the living room.
“Please, let me take care of you.”
You said softly and Jennie sighed. How could she say know to that? If she was being honest, she always needed a lot of love whenever she was sick and if you hadn’t decided to stay, she would have probably called her mum. But the thought of getting pampered by you all day definitely sounded better.
With a lot less resistance, Jennie let you pull her to the couch and laid down obediently. When you tried to walk away, however, she tightly held on to your arm.
“Jennie, I have to make you breakfast and get you some medicine from the drug store.”
You chuckled, but Jennie immediately shook her head.
“Noooo stay here.”
She pouted, causing you to laugh.
“But aren’t I here to take care of you?”
You tried to pull away, but Jennie didn’t let go.
“Exactly! You’re here to cuddle me all day.”
Jennie grinned and tugged on your arm. You shook your head in amusement, but finally gave in to her and laid down next to her. Automatically, Jennie’s limbs wrapped around you and she sighed satisfied while nestling her head against your body.
“Will we every leave this couch today?”
You chuckled while running your hand up and down her arm and Jennie chuckled.
“Nope.”
Chaeyoung
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Hey Y/N...don’t be mad, but I think you shouldn’t come over
For at least a minute you stared at the message of your girlfriend blankly, wondering whether you had done something wrong in order to have her say something like that; not once had she ever told you to stay away from her. But no matter how deep you dug in your memory, you couldn’t think of any moment that could have upset her. Therefore, you quickly dialed her number to call her. Whatever the meaning behind her message was, you needed to know.
“Y/N?”
Pretty much after the first ring, Chaeyoung picked up the phone, but her voice caused your eyes to widen in shock. It was barely above a whisper and sounded as if she had screamed for hours beforehand.
“Chaeng? What’s wrong?”
You asked concerned and you could hear your girlfriend clearing her throat on the other line.
“Nothing.”
She answered quickly, trying to sound normal, but her voice was still hoarse.
“Nothing? Babe, no offense, but you sound awful. Are you sick?”
After your question, the line went quiet, making you wonder whether the connection had broken, but then Chaeyoung spoke up again.
“Yes...I have a nasty cold. That’s why you shouldn’t come over. I don’t want to infect you.”
She sniffled and your heart sank. You didn’t like the thought of your girlfriend feeling unwell and being alone.
“You will not infect me. I’m coming over.”
You answered without hesitation while already leaping to your feet and walking to the front door of your apartment.
“You are not, Y/N! I’m serious. Stay at home. You have a lot on your plate lately; you don’t need a cold to make everything worse.”
Your girlfriend kept rambling, but you only listened with half an ear as you already put on your shoes.
“Hm...”
You hummed into the speaker before quickly saying goodbye and hanging up.
Not even an hour later, you stood in front of the girls’ dorm with a soup that you had picked up on the way and some medicine in your hands. You let yourself in with the key that Chaeyoung had given you a while ago and took off your shoes.
“I’m home!”
You yelled like you always did, but this time you weren’t greeted by the excited voice of your girlfriend. Instead, you heard footsteps pattering before Chaeyoung stepped into sight with a dumbfounded look on her face.
“Y/N! I told you not to come.”
She whined before breaking out into a fit of coughs.
Unimpressed by her protests, you walked into the kitchen and put the soup on the counter. Chaeyoung followed you silently but kept her distance from you while you unpacked the food. Soon, however, you felt her presence directly behind her and you could see in the corner of your eye that she was glancing over your shoulder.
“Is that my favorite?”
She asked and you chuckled in amusement.
“Yup, I thought you deserved to be spoiled today.”
You answered, smiling to yourself when you felt Chaeyoung wrapping her arms around your waist.
“Hm you could be right. I couldn’t sleep a second tonight; I coughed all through the night.”
Your girlfriend pouted as she put her head on your shoulder and you nodded understandingly.
“I’m all yours today.”
You grinned and Chaeyoung blushed lightly.
“I’ve warned you though! It’s not my fault if you get a cold now.”
She replied quickly before walking to the dinner table to hide her flushed cheeks, causing you to chuckle.
“I know, I take full responsibility. Eat now.”
You urged her while putting the soup down in front of her.
Excitedly, Chaeyoung slurped the noodles and hummed in satisfaction.
“I think, I’m already feeling better.”
She mumbled and you laughed.
“Because I’m here?”
You wiggled your eyebrows and Chaeyoung looked up from the soup.
“Of course. Thank you for coming, Y/N. Turns out you’re much better at taking care of me than I am.”
She smiled while reaching out to take your hand. Proudly you grinned before lifting her hand and kissing the back of it softly. Of course, you were better at taking care of her; after all, it was your favorite thing to do.
Lalisa
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“I’m not sick!”
Lisa yelled chipperly over her shoulder before slamming the front door shut, not leaving you the chance to talk back.
For the past three days already, your girlfriend struggled with a sore throat and pain in her limbs, but she refused to admit that she was sick. Every day, she dragged herself to practice and gave 110%. You tried to tell her that her behavior would eventually get back at her, but she didn’t want to listen. In her opinion, this was nothing but a harmless cold that would go away by itself.
She would change her mind today though.
Right when the door to your apartment opened that night, you knew that your prediction had come true. Lisa sniffled and coughed violently, causing you to immediately rush to the entrance. She looked ten times worse than this morning; her face was pale except for her cheeks that were burning bright red and it seemed like she would collapse any second. As soon as she saw you, a small pout formed on her lips.
“Y/N...I think you were right. I’m sick.”
She whined with slouched shoulders and you immediately walked up to her. Dramatically, Lisa let herself fall into your arms and you giggled amused.
“You know this could have totally be prevented if you had stayed home today, right?”
You scolded her jokingly, causing her to whine even more.
“I knoooow. I don’t like being sick.”
She huffed frustrated and you laughed before pulling her into the apartment.
“Don’t worry. Your private physician is here to take care of you.”
You grinned while pointing at yourself and Lisa’s face lit up.
“Will I get a special treatment?”
She asked cheekily, looking a lot less depressed than she did just a second ago.
“Of course. You’ll have access to an endless source of homecooked meals, cuddles, distraction...”
You began listing all of her benefits and with every word your girlfriend got more excited.
“Maybe I should be sick more often...”
Lisa commented eventually, causing you to chuckle. Of course, she would use this chance today to get absolutely spoiled by you. But you didn’t mind. Not one bit.
Therefore, you walked into the kitchen to start making some comfort food for your girlfriend all the while she clung to your body tightly. You knew that it would probably better if she laid down, but you also knew that you didn’t even have to bring up that suggestion. Lisa would follow you wherever you went today anyways.
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ladyseaheart1668 · 3 years ago
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Endless Summer Book 4: Daughter of Vaanu (Chapter 56)
Description: The Catalysts attempt to return to their lives as River Skye finally comes home.  tagging: @endlesshero1122 @mysteli @feartheendlesssummer @whatmcsaid @tigerbryn11
Chapter 56: Not Over
Alodia
I almost can’t believe how quickly I start to feel better once the fever breaks. The pain, which had felt like some hellish demon with teeth made of red-hot iron gnawing at my lower back, begins to recede within hours. 
“That’s how it tends to go with an infection like this once we find the right antibiotic,” the doctor tells me. “You are fortunate, though. These days, a lot of bacteria have developed resistance to antibiotics. But the infection is responding well to treatment, and all your vitals and your blood work look good. And your daughter appears as healthy as a baby horse. ...I would just like to take a quick look at how you’re healing from the birth if that’s okay.” 
I nod, turning onto my back with Jake’s help as the doctor draws the curtain around the bed. Improved as I am, I know I’m not at full strength yet, because moving still hurts. I guess I must have winced, because the doctor raises an eyebrow in concern as she pulls on a pair of gloves.
“You okay there?” 
“I think so. Guess I’m still pretty sore.” 
“That’s to be expected. You probably won’t feel one-hundred percent for another week or two at least.” 
I draw my knees up and part my thighs while the doctor pulls up a stool at the foot of the bed and lifts the blanket. I keep my attention focused on Jake’s face above me and the pressure of his hand on mine as the doctor carries out her checks. Occasionally, I let my eyes wander around to the multiple bouquets and mylar balloons that have built up over the past couple days, gifts from the Catalysts, Tahira’s team, my aunt and uncle, and Jake and Diego’s parents. 
“Everything is healing beautifully. Stitches should be dissolved by next week. You’re probably going to be feeling pretty tender for a while though.” 
“Yeah, we had the whole tearing conversation with my OB in California some time ago.” 
“Good. If you have any pressing questions regarding the birth and recovery, you can of course ask me, or one of the maternity staff. We can also forward your hospital records to your regular OBGYN.” 
“How long do you think it will be before we can go home?” Jake asks. 
She pulls the blanket back down and stands, peeling off her gloves. “Well, the fact is, we want to get her and your baby out of here ASAP to lower the chances of either of them picking up a secondary infection.” She smiles at me. “Now that the fever’s gone, we’re gonna get you off the drip and onto some oral antibiotics, and we can pretty much start the discharge process immediately.” 
“So soon?” My own question surprises me, but it’s out of my mouth before I realize it’s on the end of my tongue. 
“Believe me, it’s better we get you both out of here.” 
“I know. It’s not that I want to stay here. It’s just...thinking about how we’re going to get home...how soon we can get home…” 
“That’s all taken care of, Princess. Aleister is having Castor and Pollux deep cleaned, and he and Grace are gonna put us up for a few days until Mike gets up here from Santo Domingo. Diego and Varyyn are with Estela and Quinn, and your aunt and uncle basically paid for hotel rooms for everyone else.” 
His infodump has my head reeling a little, but there was one particular tidbit I find myself fixing on. 
“Why is Mike…?” I trail off as realization crashes down on me in an icy wave. A bit of information I had nearly forgotten in my struggle to bring my baby safely into the world while fighting a fever. Jake wasn’t worrying about me for all that time from the safety of our home in California. I don’t know the details, but I have a sinking feeling that has something to do with the reason that Mike isn’t here with us now. 
Jake folds my hand between his palms, glancing at the doctor. “Hey...do you have everything you need? I’d like a few minutes alone with my wife, if that’s okay.” 
“Of course. I’ll get the ball rolling on your discharge.” 
I wait until I’m sure she’s well clear of the room before I reach to stroke Jake’s cheek. “...I know Lundgren got his filthy hands on you. ...Fiddler told me. ...I’m guessing he got a hold of Mike, too.” 
He leans into my touch. “...And Sean and Michelle. Nabbed us all as I was bringing ‘em back from the island.” 
“I don’t know if she told me that. That conversation got swallowed up in worrying about you, and then I got sick and River started coming, and…” I swallow, running my thumb along the fuzzy ridge of his cheekbone. “...Did they hurt you? Any of you?” 
He shrugs, not meeting my eyes. “Knocked us all around a little. Michelle’s the smart one, of course, so she escaped the worst. ...Mike’s in Santo Domingo having his prosthetics repaired. Lundgren ripped them out ot torture him.” 
I shudder. “Oh, god...Oh, Jake, I’m sorry...I’m so sorry…” 
I’m crying before I realize it. And as soon as I do realize, it turns into sobbing. Jake reaches down to gather me in his arms and cradle my head against his shoulder, rocking me tenderly. 
“It’s okay,” he murmurs into my hair. “It’s okay. He’s gonna be fine. You’re gonna be fine. In a few days, we’ll be home with our baby.” 
“I w-wanna be home,” I hiccup. “I wanna be home with River, but I’m scared of leaving everyone again. I just wanna bring them all home with us…” 
“Well, it’s a very big house. ...On the other hand, you cram us all into the same house long term, it might start to feel less big. Plus, it would mean a brutal cross-country commute for some of them.” 
I can’t help chuckling a little bit, which makes the sobs start to die down. Jake gives me a moment to get myself under control before he speaks again. 
“...How are you feeling, Princess? Really?” 
“Physically?” I pull back gently to lie down on the pillow again. “Definitely better. My head is clearer, and I don’t hurt as much. But I’m still worn out. And by the way, you’re gonna have to make due with blow jobs for awhile, because it’s gonna be a long time before you stick that thing in me again, if ever.” 
It’s his turn to laugh, and he bends to kiss me. “Princess, I will tug it for the rest of my life as long as you’re still a part of that life.” 
“I will be a part of your life as long as the universe allows,” I promise. “...But Jake, we both know this isn’t over.” 
He sighs, and I see his forehead crease before he presses it to mine. “I know. I know you’re right. But for River’s sake--and mine--will you let the others take care of that for now? I ain’t saying don’t worry, because I know that’s impossible. But River and I need you healthy. Can you stand to let yourself be looked after for a while?” 
I feel a rueful smile tug at one corner of my mouth. “Am I to assume that arguing is pointless?” 
A tapping at the open door to the birthing suite distracts Jake from answering. We both look up to find Raj and Diego hovering in the doorway, Raj with a paper bag in his hand, and Diego with his right arm in a soft blue sling. It’s the first time I’ve seen him since River was born, and I sit up a little straighter as he hesitantly steps over the threshold. 
“...Are we interrupting?” 
The baby has started fussing, and Jake eases off the edge of the bed to go pick her up. I open my arms to Diego. Just before he rushes into them, I see his face twist with anguish. And as he falls against me, his one-armed grip is surprisingly strong. 
“Goddammit, Allie,” he whispers quiveringly. “Goddammit…” 
“...Did I scare you?” 
He pulls back sharply, enough so he can look me in the face, but he keeps a grip on my shoulder. “Did you scare me?! You had me on my knees saying the Ave Maria! Do you know how long it’s been since I said the Ave Maria?!” 
There isn’t really a lot I can say to that, but I smile ruefully. “...Thanks for staying with me.” 
“What, you thought I’d bail?” 
I snort. “God, no. But I can still be grateful.” 
“...You’re really okay?” 
I nod. “I’m fine. The fever is gone, and the wound doesn’t really hurt anymore. I’m still pretty sore down there, though.” 
A smile finally starts to play cautiously around his mouth. “...Well, that part’s Jake’s problem.” 
“How about you?” I ask, gingerly touching the strap of his navy blue sling. 
“That’s nothing serious. It was dislocated, but they popped it back in. Just got to wear this for a few more days, and take it easy once we get back home. ...Raj brought food, by the way.” 
“Oh!” I pull back a little to smile at Raj. “Sorry, big guy. I didn’t mean to ignore you.” 
Raj chuckles. “We’ll blame it on the new mommy brain and leave it at that. Speaking of which…” He shoos Diego back enough that he can drag my bed table over across my lap, and sets an insulated lunch box on top. “I figured you could do with something better than hospital fruit cups and oatmeal, so I brought you a special Raj lunch. Michelle supervised its creation, and it’s full of stuff that’s supposed to be good for new moms.” 
“What is it?” 
“So glad you asked!” With a flourish, he opens the bag, and pulls out each item in turn, presenting them like a game show prize lady. “A sandwich of salmon, spinach, and poached egg on whole wheat bread with a garlic white bean spread; in case you are extra hungry, a side of gourmet trail mix made from an assortment of nuts and dried fruit; and to drink, a pineapple-orange-banana smoothie with extra protein powder, and just a few extra leaves of spinach!” 
I can’t help but be uplifted by his enthusiasm, and hold out my arms for a hug. “I must be the most spoiled new mother in the world.” 
Raj embraces me lightly over the table. “As you should be. You know in some Asian cultures, a new mother spends a whole month resting while her mother-in-law takes care of her and the baby.” 
“Oh yeah?” I look at Jake. “Think your mother would spend a month taking care of me?” 
“Honestly, I bet she would. The problem would be getting her to ease up and let you start taking care of things after the month was up.” 
“Hmm...probably best not to give her ideas then.” 
“Probably. We’ll have my folks over in few more months, when we’ve had a chance to get settled.” 
“...But…” Raj says, “in the meantime, do you think you guys will be needing any extra help? I know it’s going to be a pretty full house as it is, but Diego’s going to want to take it easy with lifting and stuff for a while, and Michelle says Mike will probably need time to recover, too. If you need a couple extra pairs of hands and someone to do the cooking, I have some downtime, and I know Lila would be happy to come along.” 
I look questioningly at Jake, who shrugs. “I don’t have anything against that. It’s a big enough house. And if Varyyn and I are gonna be the only ones at full strength for the time being, I wouldn’t say no to a couple extra pairs of hands.”
“And probably better those hands be Raj and Lila than anyone’s parents,” Diego adds. “I bet Varyyn would prefer not having to wear his disguise twenty-four-seven.” 
“Yeah. And,” Jake adds with a sigh, shifting River to rest against his shoulder, “it’s probably preferable not to involve anyone who ain’t already involved in the bigger picture. ...Like you said before, Princess, this ain’t over.” 
“But for now, we’re all safe and sound, and Allie has a lunch to eat.” Diego smiles encouragingly as he pushes the tinfoil-wrapped sandwich toward me. “Go on. Dig in.” 
Jake
I gotta admit, it does my heart good to see my wife savoring the meal Raj brought her and enjoying our friends’ company. She seems almost back to her old self as she talks and tells jokes and teases with them. Although, as I put River in her arms, I can’t help but be reminded that she’ll never be exactly like her old self again. Not now that she’s a mama. Not like I’m ever gonna be exactly like my old self again either. I’m a daddy now. That’s gonna change me forever. The thought scares me, like it has a lot over the past nine months. But just a look at that precious little face is enough to reassure me that I am never gonna regret it. 
Diego and Raj eventually leave us on our own again. After nursing and burping, River sleeps just long enough that we can fill out her birth certificate, nestled side-by-side on the bed. From there, it’s not more than an hour or two before they’re wheeling Alodia toward the hospital exit with River in her arms again while I walk at her shoulder, a baby carrier in the crook of my elbow and my arms laden with flowers and mini mylar balloons. Any staff we happen to pass on the way out smile and wave or give us their congratulations. I have a feeling that in a hospital, any chance to see a patient off happy and healthy is a cause for celebration, and that probably goes double for a new mama leaving with a baby. 
Grace is waiting in a car for us at the curb outside the hospital. One of Reggie’s old carseats is in the backseat. Grace settles the baby in the carseat while I help Alodia into the seat beside her. 
“There’s a surprise for you guys when we get to our place,” Grace informs us as I circle around the car to get in on the other side of River. 
“Nothing too strenuous, I hope,” Alodia quips. “I am not up for a party yet.” 
Grace chuckles as she starts up the car. “Oh, believe me, I realize that. No, everyone is pretty sure parties are off the table for you for the time being. ...But you do know that everyone is going to want to see you before you leave, right? You gave us a scare, and no one wants you to go before we all know you’re okay. ...Plus, everyone wants to see River.” 
“I am not opposed to visitors,” Alodia assures her. “Just...only a few at a time.” 
“Absolutely. We won’t let you get overwhelmed.” 
“River, either,” Alodia adds, stroking our sleeping daughter’s downy hair. “Poor thing is probably overwhelmed as it is, suddenly coming into all this noise and color and light.” 
“Birth is the craziest thing that ever happens to us, and none of us remember it,” I remark, letting the blade of my forefinger run gently back and forth across the soft back of River’s tiny hand. Her little fingers twitch just slightly, and the base of her pacifier rocks back and forth across her lips, but she doesn’t wake up. I don’t expect the quiet will last. 
River does sleep throughout the half hour or so it takes to drive to Aleister and Grace’s luxury Northbridge apartment. As we pull up to the curb, I realize what our surprise is. 
“Mike!” 
I must have been a little louder than I thought, because River wakes up with a cry that can only be described as irritated, but it doesn’t fully register until I have already launched myself out of the car towards Mike. He’s balancing on a walker, so I at least have the good sense not to jostle him, but I can’t hold myself back from grasping him firmly by the shoulders. He grins, carefully removing his hands from the walker one at a time to grasp me back. 
“Good to see ya, Grandpa.” 
“Shit, you too! We weren’t expecting you for another couple days! How are you feeling?” 
“Well, as you can tell,” he says, nodding at the walker, “I’m not quite ready to run a marathon yet. But my new legs are healing up nice. ...Good to see you, Goldilocks.” 
His gaze shifts over my shoulder, and I turn to look back at my wife supporting herself on Aleister’s arm while Grace bounces River in her arms. Alodia smirks at me, her eyes twinkling mischievously. 
“I feel like I should make a joke about you abandoning your wife and child in the car to go hang out with your buddy,” she drawls. 
I grin sheepishly as Mike carefully returns his grip to the walker. “Sorry about that. Let me make it up to you.” 
I lunge and sweep her up bridal style, and I have the pleasure of feeling her arms twine around my neck. 
“Mmm, much better. However, unlike your daughter, I am actually capable of walking.” 
“But you don’t have to. Not right now, anyway.” But I do return her to her feet after capturing her mouth in a kiss. I don’t entirely take my hands off her yet, though. After her ordeal, I don’t think she’s really that much steadier than Mike right now. Her grip as she slips her arm through mine confirms my concerns. 
I’m standing between my wife and my best friend, and neither of them are fully able to stand under their own power. I’m starting to feel that much more grateful to Raj for volunteering to help us out for a while. 
I think Mike notices Alodia’s weakness, too, because his forehead creases just a little. “You all right, Goldilocks? From what I hear, you gave everyone a real scare.” 
“It was pretty scary on my end, too. But I’m fine now. How about you?” 
Mike shrugs. “Ahh, you know. A few weeks of rehab, I’ll be a six-million dollar man again. In the meantime,” he adds wryly, stroking the frame of his walker, “it’ll be hard to call Jake ‘Grandpa’ when I’m dottering around on this thing.” 
“You just called me ‘Grandpa’ two minutes ago.” 
“And I cannot tell you how hard I internally cringed. Seriously, if you could have seen my internal expression, you’d have thought I was sucking lemons.” 
I am morally obligated to reach out and swat him for that, but before I can, Alodia abruptly steps forward to wrap her arms around his shoulders. It’s an awkward embrace, encumbered by the walker and both of them still being weak, but it’s a sincere one, and Mike leans into it gratefully. 
“I’m glad you’re okay,” Alodia murmurs. 
“You too,” Mike says softly, reaching up to pat her shoulder with one hand. “But can we go inside? I wanna properly meet that baby you’ve been carrying around for the past nine months!” 
***
The Catalysts come by in shifts throughout the afternoon and evening, apparently having planned it all out beforehand. No one stays more than an hour at a time, which proves to be a good thing, since Alodia is clearly worn out by about eight in the evening. We’re set up in the guest room of the Rourke apartment, with River in a bassinet beside us, and Mike on the foldaway bed in the living room. 
Alodia nurses River and rocks her to sleep before lying down herself. At first, I curl up beside Alodia in bed. She’s asleep within minutes, but I’m not as quick. And after an hour, it’s pretty clear that I’m not on my way to dreamland any time soon. I don’t want to leave Alodia or River. I never want to leave Alodia’s side again. But I’m restless. Anxious. And eventually, the desire not to disturb what precious little sleep my wife might have before our daughter wakes her up again wins out over my irrational need to pace back and forth between them. I check the windows, making sure they’re locked, then I slip out of the room as quietly as I can, heading back out into the living room. 
I find Mike, Aleister, and Grace all seated in the living room. On the coffee table are four short, round glasses and a bottle of golden red liquid that I’m guessing is some kind of whiskey. 
“We were starting to wonder if you had also fallen asleep,” Aleister says. He gestures to the glasses. “We thought you might like to wet your baby’s head.” 
“Kind of a weird expression,” I remark. Nonetheless, I pick up the bottle and take a seat in an armchair to read the label. “Ooh, Irish Mist. Fancy.” 
“It is not every day that one becomes a father. The night Reginald was born, Diego, Varyyn, and I toasted his birth with Irish Mist.” 
I crack open the bottle, and lean forward to fill each of the four glasses about halfway. I set down the bottle and raise my glass, the others following suit. 
“To River Skye McKenzie, my beautiful angel. And to her mother, my better half, who is truly the best and bravest of us.” 
“Here, here!” Grace says. We clink glasses, and I take a long, deep drink, savoring the sweet notes of honey and spices riding atop the alcoholic burn of whiskey. I return my glass to the table empty and lean back in my chair. 
“When my sister and I both were born, my grandpa had my dad and the men of the neighborhood over to smoke cigars on the porch.” I chuckle a little. “Rebecca remembers helping our grandma in the kitchen, and seeing all the men outside smoking. She says what she remembers most about the day I was born was our dad coming in from outside to give her a hug, but she pushed him away and said, ‘No, Daddy! You stink!’” 
My story prompts the expected laughter. 
“I am afraid Irish Mist will have to do tonight,” Aleister says. “I did not think to buy cigars. Nor would I know enough to ensure I was purchasing a quality product. As I understand it, Cuban cigars are the best, but those are illegal.” 
Mike shudders. “Honestly, I think the smell of a Cuban would be enough to give me flashbacks. Lundgren used to smoke contraband Cubans.” 
“Same here,” I agree. “I mean...there was that one time…” 
“...That one time what?” 
I chuckle a little, rubbing the back of my head. “Okay, no one currently in this room was there when Zahra blew up MASADA…” 
“What’s that got to do with Cuban cigars?” 
I sigh, but in spite of myself, in spite of how literally everyone else in the room with me was in some kind of bad situation at the time, I feel a smile playing around my mouth at the memory. 
“Okay, so it’s me, Alodia, Sean, Quinn, Estela, Craig, and Zahra trying to find another way out of the complex after the gondola gets severed, and when we go through a control room, Zahra gets the idea to blow the whole thing up. We figure it’s worth the couple extra minutes, so we let her do it. And while she’s rigging the system, I find one of Lundgren’s Cubans somewhere on the floor. ...And I light it up. But only to spite the bastard.” 
“But did you enjoy it?” Mike asks. 
“Hell, yeah! The hype ain’t a lie, buddy. Not saying I’d do it again unless it were one of his personal stash, but that was a real good smoke. ...Still...it wouldn’t be right to celebrate River with Cuban cigars. Lundgren and Rourke did enough to taint her birth.” 
“Nothing has been tainted,” Grace says firmly. “She and Alodia both came through it well and healthy.”
“I ain’t losing sight of what’s important,” I assure her. “But I can’t let my guard down, either.  ...We all know this ain’t over.” 
Grace sighs. “...No, you’re right. It isn’t over. ...Which means...I should probably tell you what I learned in Ireland.”
Diego
I knew that the Catalysts wouldn’t have sat on their hands while any of their own were in danger, but I am surprised to learn just how busy they were during the time that Allie and I were in Arachnid’s claws. I’m even more surprised--and frankly unsettled--by some of the things they learned. Yvonne might be alive. Lundgren flew the same plane that killed Allie’s parents, even though the twisted wreckage of that plane is the property of the NTSB. The whole mess with Allie’s mom, that weird AI message from a program made by Allie’s mom. It all leaves us with a lot more questions than answers. 
I told the police everything I felt like I could safely tell them. I went so far as to tell them that I think Everett Rourke might be alive because that’s who our kidnappers claimed they were taking us to. I don’t know if they believed me. I don’t know if the future of the Vaanti is safe. A part of me hopes that they lose interest in the case since everyone who was abducted has been recovered safely. But I also know that none of us are really safe until Rourke is either back behind bars or dead. 
Aleister and Estela make all the travel arrangements for those of us going back to California, including my folks and Allie’s. Castor carries me, Allie, Jake, Varyyn, Mike, Raj, Lila, Rebecca, and River. For once, Jake and Mike aren’t going to be flying. Pollux is taking our families. A third plane, smaller but no less luxurious, takes Jake’s parents back to Louisiana. They’re reluctant to leave him. They don’t want to be apart from their son, or their daughter, or their granddaughter. He assures them they can come visit soon, but that their daughter-in-law needs some time to recover first. 
At the airport, Allie’s aunt and uncle hesitate to part from her on the tarmac. Allie stands with River in her arms, patiently enduring as Molly smoothes her hair and kisses her forehead, asking if she’s sure Allie doesn’t want her and Rob to wait at the airport in California to drive her home. When Allie insists she’s sure; that Molly and Rob should go ahead and get home so they can rest. Rob says they’ll make sure there are cars waiting for us to take us all back to the house in Laguna. 
My parents board the plane before I arrive at the airport. On board the plane, I nestle up with Varyyn on one of the double-width leather seats. I wind my arms around him and bury my face in his shoulder, inhaling his scent. He kisses the top of my head. 
“Are you alright, my love?” he murmurs. 
“...I’ll be fine,” I assure him. “I’m just...disappointed. I knew my parents weren’t ready to meet you. But I had hoped...I don’t know. I had hoped it wouldn’t be like this. Even if I knew it probably would be.” 
Varyyn sighs, bringing a hand up to stroke my cheek. “They may yet come around. Or they may not. In the end, it is up to them. All I can promise is that I will love you regardless of their decision.” 
“...I love you, too.” 
“You guys all set?” Raj’s voice makes me look up. The others are boarding behind us and finding their seats. Jake helps Allie settle in and get her seatbelt on, River still cradled in her arms. 
“Are you sure a plane is really the best way to travel with a newborn?” Lila asks. 
“When the choices are between a rental car, a train, or a private plane for a cross-country trip, a private plane is hands down the best option,” Rebecca declares. “I mean, if we were on a commercial plane, I’d think twice, since those things are basically flying petri dishes. But this plane has been deep-cleaned, unlike the train. It’s more comfortable than a car, and faster than both the car or the train.” 
“Yeah, but what about her little ears? All the pressure?” 
“The doctor says that if I nurse her during take-off and landing, that should keep her comfortable. Besides...I just want to be home.” 
Home. The word washes through me in a way that comforts me even as it makes me want to cry. Images flash through my mind of the house I share with my husband, my best friend, her husband, and his best friend--and now, my little niece and goddaughter. Watching movies in the living room with Allie. Sharing dinner around the table or out on the balcony. Cuddling with Varyyn in the hot tub in the evening, letting the warm, swirling water sap the energy from my body, and then sliding into bed beside him and drifting off to sleep in his arms. At home, I don’t have to hide. I don’t have to walk on eggshells or worry about losing anyone’s love. At home, I’m safe and free. I meet my best friend’s eyes, offering her a tired smile. 
“I’m with you, Allie. Let’s get home.” 
Raj
Nothing but the best for my friends, that’s my motto. I came to the house in Laguna Beach to make sure that my friends would have the best care while they needed it, and I waste no time in getting down to business. Alodia, Diego, and Mike need space to convalesce. But with a new baby in a huge house like this, there is a lot to be done. Jake and Varyyn can’t be expected to do everything, and that’s where I and Lila come in. 
River is constantly monitored. Whenever she cries, someone is ready to come running to change her diaper, or to bring her to Alodia for feeding. I prepare meals ahead of time that can be easily heated and served, so no one goes hungry. Lila helps me cook and keep the house clean. Alodia’s aunt and uncle attempt to send cleaning and catering services to her at one point, but they end up being politely refused. Lila and I have everything under control, and none of us want strangers poking around here. 
Alodia is occasionally moody, snapping at everyone to stop fussing over her, and she can’t wait to be free of this gilded cage and go back out into the world. This is usually followed by tearful apologies, with all of us assuring her that we don’t take it personally. She just had a baby, she’s allowed to be moody. Besides, the moment someone places River in her arms, it seems like everything is right in her world, and everything is right in our world, too. 
...Except it’s not. Not entirely. 
River is happy and healthy. Alodia is getting her strength back. Diego gets rid of the sling, and Mike starts to get around without the walker again. But underneath the surface, there is still trauma. There’s still fear. 
“They’re having nightmares,” I tell Lila one morning as we’re preparing breakfast. She pauses for a moment with a knife poised above an orange before swiftly slicing it in half. 
“Is that so surprising?” she asks. She doesn’t look at me as she speaks, but concentrates on making sure the thick, white heart of the orange half in her hand is positioned properly on the cone of the juicer before she presses down and begins to twist. Bright yellow juice splashes down into the container below. 
“Well, no. But it is sad. Jake and Alodia especially should be concentrating on enjoying their new baby, not having nightmares and worrying about whether Rourke’s coming back for them.” 
Lila pulls the now-deflated orange rind off the cone of the juicer and tosses it on the countertop. Ribbons of tattered orange flesh cling to the inside of the rind. She picks up the other half. 
“...Do you ever have nightmares from Mr. Rourke?” she asks softly. 
“Of course,” I reply. “Not as much as before, but I think we all have them sometimes. After what we all went through, I think I’d be more surprised if any of us didn’t.” 
The twisting of the orange on the juicer slows just slightly. The toaster pops behind me, and I pluck four pieces of perfectly browned bread from the slots to toss onto a plate. 
“...I have nightmares, too.” 
The butter has been softening on the counter, and my knife slides easily through it. The heat from the toast softens it further, and it spreads cleanly. 
“...You want to talk about it?” 
Lila shakes her head, picking up her knife and another orange. “No. Not now. They don’t really matter anyway. They’re about things that happened in the past. I’m less scared of them than I am of what happens in the future.” 
“Do you mean Rourke’s next move?” 
“Of course that scares me. ...But more than that, I’m scared of him trying to use me against all of you again.” 
“We won’t let that happen, Lila. You’re safe with us.” 
“...But are you safe with me?” 
I pause a moment before putting down my knife. I turn to Lila, put one hand on each of her shoulders, and turn her toward me. 
“Lila...look at me. ...Has Rourke approached you at all since you’ve been with us again?” 
Her eyes widen in what looks like genuine surprise. “What? No, I...that isn’t what I meant!” 
I relax just a little. “...Okay.” I slowly take my hands away from her shoulders. “...You’d tell me if he had, wouldn’t you?” 
She nods. “Of course.” 
“Good. ...Because if he approaches you again, we can help you. We can help keep you out from under his thumb. ...We’re not gonna let him just have you back.” 
A weak smile lifts the corners of her mouth. “I believe you.” She hastily turns back to the oranges in front of her. “You should...um...finish buttering before the toast gets cold.” 
Overhead, the sharp, piercing cry of an infant rings through the air. I smile. Another morning blending into another day. It’s not perfect. We’ve got reason to worry. But for now, all is well. 
Diego
I keep my head down as I move through the halls of my high school, clutching the straps of my worn-out backpack. It’s the same shabby gray one I’ve been carrying since freshman year. I’m a junior now, and the corners near the bottom are starting to fray where the sharp corners of paper-bag covered textbooks have dug into them. 
My stomach growls. I skipped lunch again today. My parents were gone to work early again, and I didn’t leave myself enough time to make myself anything this morning. I barely had time to scarf down a banana for breakfast. I didn’t have enough cash for a cafeteria lunch, either, and besides, I preferred spending my lunch period playing on the computer in the library to sitting by myself at the end of a table filled with noisy strangers anyway. 
If I can scrape together enough change from the bottom of my pencil case, I might have enough to get a bag of chips from the vending machine before I have to go to my after school job. But for now, my hunger isn’t all that sharp, and I am heading towards English Lit, the only class I currently look forward to. 
The class is taught by Mr. Hunter. He also teaches the film-making class I want to sign up for next semester. He’s in his early fifties, and not handsome. He is tall and lanky, with gray-green eyes and a dark helmet of slicked back hair that sits atop a rectangular face. He has one of those mustaches that seemed to be popular in the 1970’s that always make a man look a little sketchy. He wears paisley shirts and slacks, and his voice reminds me of Bert from Sesame Street.
Mr. Hunter is the best teacher I’ve ever had at this school. When we studied Romeo and Juliet, he started off by giving us all a printed-off list of Shakespearean insults. When one girl tried to mumble her way through a line-reading, he shouted, “Put some feeling into it, you saucy wench!” 
Mr. Hunter is also gay, and he does not attempt to hide this. When my parents ask about my teachers and which ones I like best, I leave this fact out. If they knew, they would make me switch to another class. Mr. Hunter has a picture of himself with his boyfriend on his desk. I’ve seen it when I’ve gone up to hand in assignments. His partner is bald and ruddy-skinned. He’s not handsome, either, but he has an open, friendly smile. Sometimes, I imagine them kissing. I worry that I have a crush on Mr. Hunter. 
On the post of every classroom door is a laminated pink triangle, with a message proclaiming that this is a safe space for LGBTQ students. These triangles are mandated by the school district. Not every teacher honors them. One teacher actually tore hers down and refused to put it back up. She was fired. Last year, two girls were voted “Cutest Couple” in their senior class. I look at the triangles, prominently displayed as I walk into each classroom, and I don’t feel particularly safe. I feel safe in Mr. Hunter’s classroom. 
Inside Mr. Hunter’s classroom, two boys from the football team act out a love poem with one of them in a curly blond wig and the bottom of his shirt tucked into his collar to create a crop top. They end with a flourish, with the boy in the wig jumping into the other boy’s arms and goosing him. Everyone applauds their performance, including Mr. Hunter. 
Outside Mr. Hunter’s classroom, guys of all stripes growl “faggot” in my direction, and even the girls who are nice to me seem pitying more than anything. There’s a Pride club that meets after school two days a week, but I don’t dare join. I’m slowly realizing I can’t deny the truth anymore, but that doesn’t mean I can just announce it to the world. 
I have just enough change to buy a bag of chips after school. I put it in my backpack as I make my way toward the library where I work for a few hours each day. I see Sam Dzugan eyeing me as I pass through the main doors to the school, and feel dread so familiar that it’s almost dull. Of all the bullies at this school, Sam is the worst. He also knows where I work. If he’s bored and hungry for a power fix tonight, I’m in for a rough walk home. 
But he doesn’t follow me to work. At the library, I set to work filing back the books from the return cart. As I do, my mind wanders to the same place it always does: Alodia. 
Alodia. My ideal friend. I conjure up an image of her beside me. She would be pretty, like all the most popular girls at school. I summon a small, pale figure with blonde hair, big blue eyes, and rosy cheeks. I talk with her in my head as I wander the aisles of the library with the return cart. I can picture her cheeky smile as clearly as if she were really beside me. I have spent many years getting the details of her perfect. Early incarnations of her were dark-haired. Green-eyed. Taller. I drew pictures of her. I wrote down her description in a private notebook that I kept under my mattress. But she never felt as real as when I wrote her with golden blonde hair and sapphire eyes. 
She laughs at all my jokes as I work the rest of my shift. I forgot to eat the chips I bought, and I’m hungry enough now to start feeling dizzy. ...Alodia would invite me to dinner at her house. A huge, fancy house with a pool, where a chef would have prepared a gourmet meal. 
“Don’t worry about Sam,” she would say. “If he gives you any trouble, I’ll fight him off.” ...Because Alodia would be fierce. A fighter. Alodia was a hero. A hero who loved me unconditionally. 
Alodia was never meant to be my lover. I wasn’t looking for a lover when I first dreamed Alodia into existence, which is probably why I always imagined her as a girl. I could scarcely imagine having a lover before I had a friend. That was what Alodia was to me. A friend. A friend who would always love me. A friend who I could tell my secrets to without judgment. A friend to fight for me and protect me, who saw value in me, and needed me back. 
But my friend is a fantasy. And when I leave work and Sam corners me in the encroaching darkness, Alodia vanishes…
...I wake up with a gasp, bolting upright in the darkness of my room. Beside me, Varyyn grunts in his sleep and rolls over, the moonlight reflecting off his blue skin. I stare at his sleeping form for a moment, trying to take stock of myself. I’m shaking. My pajamas are damp with sweat. I feel cold. I feel sick and empty with fear. I don’t exactly remember what I was dreaming about, but one thought keeps echoing in my mind: Allie. I have to find Allie. 
I slip out of bed as gently as I can while I’m still trembling. I don’t want to wake Varyyn. As I slip into the hall, motion-sensitive lights plugged into the sockets near the floor illuminate my path. My dream is still hazy, but bits and pieces trickle back as I shuffle down the hall with my hand on the wall. I was alone. Allie didn’t exist. It was a timeline that I have all but forgotten, and it felt entirely too real. 
I need to find her. Or at least evidence that she still exists. The door to the nursery is slightly ajar, enough that I can see the soft glow from the lamp on the bedside table. I peek through the crack in the door and relief floods through me. Allie, bundled up in her robe and slippers, sits in the rocking chair with River in her arms, gently rocking back and forth. I exhale slowly. I should go back to bed, but I am not ready to let her out of my sight yet. I start to push open the door. She gasps a little, looking up sharply. 
“Oh, Diego!” She smiles at me, settling back into her chair. “You startled me.” 
“Sorry,” I whisper back. “...Did I wake up River?” 
“No. I just fed her, so she’ll probably be out for an hour or two.” She looks up at me as I come to settle into the armchair across from her. “...What are you doing up?” 
“...Bad dream,” I admit. “...About...about you. I had to come check on you or I was never going to get back to sleep.” 
I half-expect her to joke about me being a creeper watching her while she sleeps, but instead she sighs. “...I kinda know the feeling.” 
“Yeah. I bet you do.” 
“You wanna stay up with me for awhile?” 
“Yeah. But I feel like I should be telling you to get some sleep while you can.” 
“I probably should be sleeping,” she admits. “...But I don’t really want to let her go.” 
There’s not really much I feel like I need to say to that. I understand. I don’t think there’s anyone in this house who doesn’t empathize with that feeling in one way or another. Especially now. 
“...Diego…?” 
“Yeah, Allie?” 
For a long moment, she doesn’t say anything, though her mouth opens and closes a couple times. Then, she swallows and takes a deep breath. 
“...I love you. I love you, and I love Jake, and Raj, and all the Catalysts…” 
“We love you, too, Allie.” 
“...When you imagined me. In that other timeline. When I didn’t come to be until the Island...did you ever imagine my future?” 
I can’t help flinching. Her words feel like a cold pinprick at the top of my spine. “...Allie...I...I don’t really remember that timeline…” 
“I know. I know. But...it happened. It existed. I was once born to be what you needed. What all the Catalysts needed. ...But now...now I have River. Someone new who needs me. She needs me more than any of my Catalysts.” 
“I...I think that’s true,” I say slowly. “...We all love you, and we want you with us. But River is your child. She’s helpless and new. She needs your love and your care and your guidance to survive.” 
“...I’m scared, Diego. I’m scared by how much I love her. I’m scared by how much she needs me.” 
My earlier fear is being replaced with concern that is entirely for my friend.  “...Allie...are you okay? Is this some kind of postpartum depression?” 
“I don’t know what this is, Diego. I know that I love River more than I ever thought I could love anyone alive. I would have torn myself apart for my Catalysts without hesitation. I gave up my existence to give my Catalysts the world. ...But I can’t consider that anymore. Because River needs her mother.” 
“Oh, Allie. That’s not a bad thing. None of us want you to tear yourself apart.” 
“I know. ...But I am afraid of what happens if the world asks for it. ...If I end up at the Threshold again, or a new Raan’losti…” She looks up at me. “...Diego...I think I have to face what’s in the pool shed.” 
I feel my blood run cold. I know what’s in the pool shed. The collection of objects that were left for us in the Crystal dimension when we went to rescue Tahira. Including…
“...Are you sure?” 
She nods. “...It was left for me to find for a reason. I have to touch the Andromeda idol again.” 
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