#*loud sobbing* Finally a doctor took my pain seriously!!!!!!!!

[annoyedlord]

WE FINALLY HAVE AN IDEA OF WHY IM IN SO MUCH PAIN AND MY GP GAVE ME A LETTER SO I CAN SEE A CENTER WHO'LL HELP ME AND ALSO A FRIEND GAVE ME A CANE TO HELP ME TO WALK WHEN I STRUGGLE TOO MUCH IT WAS A GOOD WEEK!!!!

[sugarybitterness]

always home - natasha romanoff x reader

word count; 1,688

warnings; gunshot, injuries, blood

a/n; a little angsty but there’s fluff i promise! feedback is always appreciated <3

the mission had been a bust. there were more enemy agents than you had anticipated, meaning you and wanda could barely hold them off even with both your powers. as the two of you fought under the dark sky with only the moon providing a small source of light, you were seriously considering a retreat at this point. a loud cry broke through your concentration and your heart sank when you saw wanda crumpled on the ground with a hand on her side. you growled angrily as you quickly created a barrier around wanda and used your telekenisis to push away the agents surrounding you before running over, pushing back anyone who tried to intercept you or get near wanda.

“y/n/n, it hurts,” wanda gasped out as soon as she saw you, one hand was pressed against her side while her free hand was glowing red, pushing back the agents.

“i know wan, i know. come on, we need to leave,” you told her gently as you moved the barrier to accommodate the two of you as you pushed her hand firmer against the wound to try and stop the bleeding. why was there so much blood?

“but the information-“ wanda tried to protest but a pained gasp fell from her lips again. you felt the telltale burn in your eyes, wanda was like a younger sister to you and you have always been protective over your family.

“fuck the information. you’re hurt and i’m getting you home.” you stated firmly before helping wanda up. the sokovian let out a final wave of magic to knock out the remaining few agents nearby but the shouts and heavy footsteps from the base meant that you really had to hurry.

once the two of you reached the quinjet, you helped wanda onto the makeshift medical bed and instructed her to keep pressure on the wound before running to the control panel. you quickly keyed in the coordinates of the avengers tower, letting FRIDAY take over pilot controls and instructing the AI to let the team know that wanda needed immediate medical attention.

once the quinjet was in the air you hurried back to wanda’s side and replaced her hand with yours to apply pressure, mumbling soft apologies when the younger girl cried out in pain. a quick check showed that there was an entry wound but no exit wound, you cursed quietly as you check with FRIDAY how far out you were from the tower.

“i’m going as fast as i can miss y/l/n but it will still take another 20 minutes. the team has been notified and medical staff are on standby to receive miss maximoff once we land.” the AI’s words did little to reassure you. with one hand still on the wound, you moved another hand to gently wipe away the tears from wanda’s face.

“i’m sorry i couldn’t protect you better wan,” you apologised quietly, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. wanda did her best to smile at you, but you could tell she really was in a fair bit of pain. after the longest 20 minutes you’ve experienced, FRIDAY finally announced that you were landing. with one hand still on her side, you used your magic to lift the now semi-conscious wanda up gently. the moment the doors opened, you flew out with her and placed her on the waiting gurney. allowing a nurse to take over your position, you quickly placed another kiss on wanda’s head before tony, bruce and the rest of the med team wheeled her away quickly. once she was finally inside the compound you allowed your full wave of emotions to overcome you, tears finally falling and knees buckling. before you could hit the ground you felt a familiar pair of arms quickly wrap around you, bringing you to sit on their lap as they sat on the floor.

“there was so much blood nat.. i thought- i thought we wouldn’t make it back in time.” you whimpered out quietly as you continued to sob into your girlfriends chest. arms hanging limply at your side as you didn’t want to hug natasha back knowing that your hands were still stained red with wanda’s blood. natasha ran one hand up and down your back as her other hand rested on your neck, holding you close. she knew that there really wasn’t much that could be said to ease your worry or quell the guilt so she simply let you cry it out. when steve came over, mouth opening to ask about the mission, he was quickly shut down with a sharp glare from natasha. raising his hands in surrender, he left to go check on wanda in the med bay, throwing one last concerned look at the way you seemed so small in natasha’s lap (even though you were supposed to be the taller one.)

once your sobs finally subsided, natasha quietly asked if you wanted to take a bath or shower, or if you needed to go get yourself checked up. when you quietly asked for a shower with her, natasha smoothly stood up with her arms tucked under your legs, carrying the two of you into your room in the tower.

setting you down on the sink in your shared bedroom, natasha grabbed the things she would need to clean you up. while you had managed to fight off most of the agents with your barriers, you ended up engaging in a few rounds of hand to hand combat which meant that you had way too many bruises and cuts for natasha’s liking. as gently as she could, natasha took your bloodied hands and ran them under the tap allowing the water to wash away wanda’s blood. the thought of your teammates blood on your hands made you feel sick to your stomach, even though you weren’t the one that caused it but the fact that she had gotten hurt still made you feel like shit. you closed your eyes when you felt another wave of tears hit you, wishing desperately that things had gone differently and that the girl you called your sister wasn’t currently in surgery. your friendship with wanda had always been a little rocky, considering she made you and the rest of your team relive your darkest memories and fears. but then again, all of you had done some not so great things in the past- yourself included. wanda worked hard, pushing herself to be better in more ways than one and in some way trying to prove that she really did belong in this slightly dysfunctional family called the avengers.

“she’s a fighter, she’ll be okay.” natasha spoke quietly, smiling softly at you when you opened your eyes to look at her. you nodded in response, knowing that the redhead was right.

“you can feel the guilt detka but you cannot allow it to consume you.” natasha reminded you gently, drying her hands on her sleep shorts before moving to wipe away your tears. nodding again, you pushed your cheek against your girlfriend’s hands. despite her hands being slightly rough from all her time training and handling weapons, she always held you with such tenderness.

after you were cleaned up by natasha and the two of you had a warm shower, natasha bundled you up in your favourite sweater which used to be natasha’s until you took it. as you tried leave your room to make your way to the medical wing of the tower, you were quickly stopped by the redhead who stood in between you and the door.

“going to wait at the medical wing won’t do you any good detka. you need to rest.” natasha knew that the two of you had planned to strike at night and knowing how stubborn you were, instead of sleeping at the safehouse you probably went over the plan with yourself several times and made sure you had the blueprint of the building committed to memory.

you opened your mouth to argue but natasha gave a compromise, “we can ask FRIDAY to wake us up when wanda’s out of surgery, i promise i’ll wake you. but i need you to sleep, please detka.”

“fine.” you grumbled and went to lie on the bed while natasha talked to FRIDAY as she followed suit, lying next to you on the bed. you turned on your side to look at natasha and once FRIDAY stopped talking, the redhead shifted her attention back to you.

“cuddles?” you asked quietly, though you really didn’t need to.

“always.” was natasha’s reply as she pulled you closer to her and planted a soft kiss on your lips which you returned with a soft sigh.

“i love you my natty, thank you for taking care of me.” you mumbled against your girlfriend’s lips before give her another kiss.

“anything for you my love, i love you too.” natasha responded, kissing you again before readjusting your positions so your head was against her chest, allowing her heartbeat to lull you to sleep.

true to her word, natasha woke you up a couple hours later when wanda was out of surgery and the two of you made your way to go check on the sokovian. thankfully the bullet hadn’t hit anything major and the doctor managed to get it out quickly before closing up the wound. with the help of some advanced medical tech, wanda would be back to normal in a week or so. knowing that you would want to be there when wanda woke up, natasha quietly guided you to the couch and pulled you to lie on her.

“sleep detka,” natasha whispered, one hand wrapped around your waist while the other stroked your hair softly. too tired and relieved to fight back, you melted into the embrace. just as you were about to fall back to sleep, you thought about how extremely lucky you were to have someone as wonderful as natasha to come home to. even after a shitty mission like this, she managed to you feel so much better and so much safer. natasha will always be your home.

[chaoticminhos]

gentle

pairing: bang chan x reader

genre: angst, smut

warnings: mentions of past abuse, yelling

word count: 3k

a/n: not proofread, this is a suuuuper old request, and i’m back after like two months of being inactive!!! thank you for waiting around for me 🥺

you’d never heard him yell like this, not even when you tripped over his computer cords, ripping them all from his laptop and causing him to lose hours of work. he never got this angry, he never raised his voice at you. he knew how much yelling scared you, so why now did he decide he didn’t care? you thought he cared. he seemed like he cared.

you flinched are every single word that came out of your boyfriends mouth, but he was far too focused on his own frustrations to notice. or maybe he simply didn’t care about the tears building in your eyes and the panic tightening in your throat.

“i don’t understand how you could put down a payment that big and not even talk to me about it first, y/n! i mean seriously, we said we were going to wait to see what other places were available, why the fuck would you think it would be okay to drop half of our fucking funding down on a house we haven’t even decided we really want yet?”

“i’m sorry chan, he- the realtor was so insistent and he kept saying it would go fast and you weren’t there to make him stop talking and i just got nervous and-“

“oh?” he threw his hands into the air, “you got nervous? you got nervous so you threw away a shit ton of our money? we can’t get that back, y/n! if we don’t buy the house, we don’t get all that money back to spend on another house!”

“chan i-“

“thanks for making a huge fucking life decision without me, y/n. nice fucking teamwork.”

not only had you never seen him yell like this, you’d most definitely never had him yell like this at you. the pure frustration he was directing towards you sprung up old memories of someone chan promised to keep you safe from, but any loud and angry voice sounded like the one that used to mean panic and lying to doctors.

any glue you had holding you together broke as the same pleading words that had never worked before flew out of your mouth.

“please, i’m really sorry, i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to! i really didn’t, please don’t hurt me, i’m sorry!”

your words became incoherent as you lost control of yourself, the same autopilot routine you’d gotten so used to years ago taking control. you crumpled to the ground, shielding yourself with your arms as you continued to apologize, over and over and over and over. you waited for the pain to come, the arms to rip your hands away from your face and force you to look evil in its eyes, but they never came.

you’d thought they had, but it was just chan placing a hand on your shoulder, trying to steady you and get you to look at him. you immediately flinched away from the touch, shuffling yourself backwards and distancing yourself from the perceived threat.

he reached for you again, but you had the same reaction, not even letting him come into contact with you a second time. upon realizing that physical touch wasn’t the way to bring you back to reality, chan dropped any ounce of anger that had been in his voice just moments before and called to you.

“y/n, baby girl, it’s me, it’s okay. baby, it’s chan. can you look at me?”

you shook your head. you weren’t hearing him.

“baby girl, it’s chan. i’m not him, it’s chan. i’m here for you baby, and i’m so sorry i yelled.”

a few minutes of continuing to coax the calm out of you with his voice took the violent shaking from your body and you finally raised your head to meet his eyes. you still wouldn’t let him get close enough for him to pull you into his arms and keep you there, keep you safe.

“i wouldn’t ever hurt you y/n. i’m not him, okay?he’s not here. he can’t hurt you anymore.”

he inched his way over to you, moving slowly and checking constantly to make sure he wasn’t frightening you with the proximity until he was finally close enough to touch you, but he didn’t. instead, he crouched down in front of you and opened his arms wide.

“princess, do you want to come here? whenever you’re ready, i’m here to hold you and keep you safe, okay?”

he’d expected hesitation, but you jumped immediately into his arms, wrapping your own around his body. you were pressed so tightly against him that he could feel just how fast your heart was racing. it broke his heart to know that it wasn’t butterflies causing your heart to beat so fast for him, but instead it was fear.

“i’m sorry for yelling, i shouldn’t have yelled.”

with every second that your tears soaked into his shirt and your labored breathing began to calm down, chan was replaying the entire fight in his head, cursing himself for ever raising his voice in the first place.

after what felt like hours of chan mentally screaming at himself for scaring you, you finally spoke again. your raspy and shaking voice are what finally brought tears to chan’s own eyes.

“i’m sorry.”

“no.” he said firmly, “you have nothing to apologize for baby, i’m the one who should be on my knees begging for forgiveness. i’m so sorry y/n, i had no right to raise my voice like that.”

you shook your head, face buried in his shoulder, “no, i messed up. now we have to buy the house and you don’t even like it.”

your voice cracked and a fresh wave of sobs threatened to choke out your throat, but chan interrupted them.

“my sweet angel, i could not care less about the house. what matters is that i’m living there with you. if you like the house, if you can imagine starting a family with me there, then i love it.”

a wave of relief flooded through chan when a soft smile broke out on your face.

“i think the yard would be perfect for kids to play in.”

chan rested a hand on your cheek and guided your face close to his, “then it’s a good thing you put down a payment. i’ll ask the realtor about when we can start to move in tomorrow, okay?”

you nodded as he placed a gentle kiss to your lips. the taste of salty tears on your lips only made him want to kiss you more, hold you closer, show you that he loved you more than he could have ever imagined loving someone, if you’d let him.

and you’d decided that you finally would.

“chan,” you pulled away, eyes locked right to his, “do you think were ready for kids?”

he pouted in thought, “i think we’re going to be wonderful parents, sooner or later.”

eyes still locked to his, you spoke.

“can we do sooner?”

you caught him off guard with the question and it took him a moment to process what you were suggesting.

in all the time you’d been together, you’d never slept together. chan knew you were nervous and he wasn’t going to pressure you, no matter how badly he wanted to outline your entire body with kisses and praise.

he’d always known your first time would start with you suggesting it, but now that it was finally happening, he was almost too flustered to act.

almost.

he shifted his seating at the simple mention of finally having you, locking his eyes to yours.

“are you sure, princess?”

you nodded, hands fiddling with the collar of his shirt, “i want you.”

that was all it took for chan to capture your lips in his, leaning you back until your back was flat against the ground.

you weren’t a stranger to kissing chan like this or even to the reactions his body had to it. you’d seen him worked up many times because of you, but he always handled it himself.

but he made you feel safe, he made you feel loved. you didn’t even know it was possible to feel so cared for before you’d met chan. he changed your life, he’d helped you through so much. you wanted to help him, too.

you slid a hand from his neck down his chest and to the waistband of his pants. he yelped in surprise, not expecting you to be so forward.

he gripped your hand, guiding it back to his neck with a small laugh.

“the first time we have sex will not be on the floor of this shitty kitchen.”

you laughed back as he stood you up, sweeping you into his arms and easily carrying you to your shared bedroom. you wouldn’t have been able to stop him from picking you up even if you had wanted to, but the thought didn’t scare you. with anyone else, it would have. the feeling of powerlessness would have overwhelmed you, but you trusted chan. he wouldn’t hurt you. he was carrying you to safety, not to fear.

he sat you down on the mattress, taking the time to remove his shirt before crawling on top of you and connecting his lips back to yours.

as much as you loved kissing the man on top of you, you lightly shoved him away, hands sliding down his bare torso as you took him all in. he was gorgeous. the freckles across his chest and his hot skin against your palms made waves of butterflies go through your stomach.

chan let you marvel at him for a moment before leaning down and kissing your neck, speaking warmly into the skin.

“now you’ve seen me. can i see you, angel?”

there wasn’t even a second of hesitation before you were nodding, lifting your arms above your head to allow him to pull off your shirt.

if it has been anyone else asking for you to reveal yourself in your most vulnerable, you would have hesitated. you would have done so much more than hesitate, but it wasn’t someone else. it was chan. there was no reason to hesitate with chan.

his fingers ghosted over your back as he fumbled to unclip your bra, tossing it onto the quickly forming pile of clothes on the ground.

he failed an attempt to hold i’m a groan at the sight of you under him. the noise sent a wave of affection and lust through your body, landing right in your core.

he leaned down and placed another gentle kiss to your lips before trailing his way down your body, landing on your left boob. he swirled his tongue around your nipple before taking it into his mouth, coaxing a soft moan from your lips. he made a sound of approval in response and repeated his action, gaining the same reaction.

god, he’d wanted to take his time with you, but you were making it difficult for him to keep his patience.

continuing his trail of kisses, he found his way to the waistband of your pants, tapping your hip as a signal for you to shift your weight to help him pull them off. you complied, it wasn’t like your patience was holding up much better than his.

you reached for him, trying to get him to the same position you were in, but he pushed your hand away. you let out an annoyed whine and got an amused chuckle in response, which only made your pout grow.

“you’re so eager y/n. you want me bad, don’t you?”

you nodded and his smile grew.

“be patient, baby girl. i don’t want to hurt you.”

your reply was instant, “you won’t hurt me.”

he raised an eyebrow at you, a hint of something other than the pure affection he’d been showing you thus far showing through his eyes.

“i’m not? okay.”

he leaned back on his heels, undoing his belt and jeans. you watched as he pulled himself from his confinements and kept the position like he was on display, letting you take in every inch of him.

you’d never seen a dick up close and personal before, but you were sure that chan was huge. a smirk grew on his face as he watched you turn back on you’re statement.

“still think you’ll handle me fine with no prep?”

too stunned to form a coherent sentence, you just stared at him, raking your eyes over his body.

he shrugged, “i didn’t hear a no.”

you broke from your trance as he went into motion, leaning down close to you and situating himself between your legs.

“wait!”

he paused, raising an eyebrow at you.

“i didn’t know.”

“didn’t know what, angel?”

he knew perfectly well what you were referring to, but he wanted to make you say it.

“didn’t know you were so big.”

both his heart and his cock throbbed at the crude words coming out of your mouth in that innocent little voice of yours.

unable to contain a smile, he leaned down and placed a loving kiss to your temple, keeping his place between your legs as he drug his hand down your body. a small gasp left you when his fingers came in contact with your heat, the pure intensity of having someone touch you for the first time nearly overwhelming you.

you weren’t sure you’d be able to handle much with how intense every touch he gave you already was, but you quickly changed your mind to wanting so much more as he slid a single finger through your folds and into your heat.

the feeling was uncomfortable at first, foreign, but you got used to it quickly. just as you’d adjusted to the feeling, a second finger was being added, stretching you further. you winced slightly at the pain the stretch caused, but the pleasure as chan curled his fingers against your walls easily outweighed it.

it wasn’t long before you were practically begging him for more, insisting that you were ready now, that he had worked you good enough for you to handle him.

he was worried that he hadn’t, that you could use a couple more minutes of prep, but how was he supposed to say no to you when you were begging like that? especially after waiting so long to finally have you in this position, he couldn’t.

it was hard to believe you’d had any initial hesitation with the way you wrapped your legs around his back as he sat lined up at your entrance, partly to tease you and partly to give you one final change to back out before you went any further, but there was no way you were going to back out now.

you had one thing on your mind; the man above you. you wanted him, and nothing could change your mind about this. no amount of nerves or fear could overpower the love and need you felt at the moment.

it took everything out of chan not to ruin you the second he slipped inside your walls. you swallowed him so perfectly, right walls clenching around him as he began a slow pace.

he made the mistake of opening his bliss-closed eyes and looking at the place his cock met your body. he held on to every last ounce of control he had as he watched himself slide in and out of you so perfectly. you were so small, but you still took him like it was what you were made for.

“god, baby, you’re doing so good.” he groaned, tearing his eyes away from your heat and burying his face in the crook of your neck. the mixture of his lips against your neck and his length working inside of you built up a knot in your stomach, and your moans started to sound more like whines. chan noticed, both by your change in tone and the way you were helplessly clenching around him, and brought a hand down to your clit, circling his fingers softly against you. in a wave of pleasure you handy even known was possible, you gripped hard into chan’s shoulders and swore you were seeing stars. chan was lucky you’d talked about having children soon, because he didn’t know if he could have pulled himself out of you if he had needed to. the urge to work you through your climax and let his own go was something he was glad he didn’t have fight against.

yet another foreign feeling touched your senses as chan released inside of you, but you were too far gone in coming down from your high to really even notice. the overstimulation of him still being inside of you wasn’t your main concern as you came back down from the clouds.

you came back to reality as he slipped himself out of you, collecting any cum that came out with him and pressing it back into your hole with his fingers. you lied limp as he found your panties and secured them back over your heat, muttering something about making sure you kept every piece of him safe inside of you.

you barely registered that he’d left the room before he was back, two glasses of water and a plate of fruit in his arms. somewhere along the way his boxers had ended up back on him, just another thing you’d been too stunned to process.

you heard the sound of him setting the glasses and plate on a side table before feeling the bed dip beside you. he chuckled, placing his hand on your cheek and turning you to look at him. your eyelids fluttered and his heart swelled. he helped you into a sitting position and handed you one of the waters, setting the plate of food on the bed beside you and ordering you to eat something.

“you seem dizzy, i don’t want you to pass out.”

you laughed raising an eyebrow, “who’s fault is it that i’m dizzy?”

he put his hands up in defense, “you’re the one who seduced me!”

neither of you could contain your giggles as you popped one last grape into your mouth before handing chan the plate and your glass to set aside. the second his hands were free, you pulled him down to a laying position and yanked the blankets over the two of you, finding a soft pillow in his chest.

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆! 𝑨𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒛: 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝑺𝒍𝒂𝒑 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎 𝑫𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑨𝒏 𝑨𝒓𝒈𝒖𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕

Disclaimer: In no way am I condoning, promoting, justifying, encouraging nor romanticizing yandere behavior. This is all a work of fiction and not meant to represent real life scenarios.

Warning: Mentions of violence, toxic relationships, degradation and other types of yandere behavior are contained within this reaction. Read at your own discretion.

★━━𝙺𝚒𝚖 𝙷𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚓𝚘𝚘𝚗𝚐━━★

Hongjoong locked the wooden stock, effectively trapping your hands in place. He hadn't even began his actual punishment and you were already crying at the thought of what was to come.

"Buck up Y/N. You had the guts to try and stand up to me, let alone raise your hand at me..."

He walked over to the other side, his hand reaching for the cane that was submerged in the bucket of water.

"So why don't you have the guts to take your punishment as is?"

He grinned an evil smile as he held the cane over his head.

"I think, my little pet, you've grown too spoiled. But that's ok. Nothing a little more training can't fix."

You closed your eyes and let out a yell of pain when the rod struck down at your palms, over and over again.......

★━━𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚂𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚑𝚠𝚊━━★

"What's wrong Y/N? I thought this was your favorite food?"

You could hear the mocking tone in his voice, you didn't even need to look over at him to know he had the biggest smirk on his face, waiting for you to eat your food.

But your hands were tied behind your back, meaning if you wanted to eat anything, you would have to degrade yourself and actually eat as if you were an animal, your punishment for slapping him 2 days ago. You refused to do that, even if you've been starving. Seonghwa sighed as he got up and went to stand next to you.

"You know.....you're going to have to give in sooner or later..."

You gasped in shock when his hand went behind your neck, slamming your face harshly against the plate of food.

"Even if I have to make you do it myself you fucking little bitch."

★━━𝙹𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚈𝚞𝚗𝚑𝚘━━★

Yunho had been acting very depressed ever since your argument 4 days ago. You didn't mean for it to escalate so much, but you ended up slapping him harshly. You were so shocked by your own actions, you ended up running away to your place.

Meanwhile Yunho was a mess. He refused to eat anything, barely slept because he was holding his favorite plushie, the one you gifted him, and crying till he passed out. His friend Mingi was the one who checked up on him and was worried for him.

"Y/N I'm serious. He's in a really bad state."

So you went back to his house. You found him curled up into a ball on the couch, his eyes drifting between unconsciousness and consciousness.

"Yunho? Yunho baby?" You woke him up, lightly caressing his cheek.

Yunho immediately backed away from you, tears already running down his face as he covered his face.

"I'm so sorry Y/N! I promise I won't do it again but please don't hurt me!"

His words and crying broke you once again as you began thinking once again that you were a monster for hurting him again.

And once again, he was back in your arms, basking in your love affection...as always.

★━━𝙺𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝚈𝚎𝚘𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚐━━★

Yeosang happily strolled by his room and down to the basement. With a loud noise, he opened the door and turned on the light. Your eyes immediately shut and you winced. Having been in the dark for so long, it was hard for your eyes to adjust to the brightness of the room.

"I just came to say good night my love. I'd ask for a hug but....obviously it's impossible."

He let out a dry, sarcastic laugh as he admired his own degenerated work: your arms were raised above your head, tied to a rope with only your legs supporting you for the past couple of days. You were exhausted and weak.

"I'll settle for this then."

He leaned in and placed a peck on your cracked and dry lips, smiling as if nothing was wrong.

"Maybe tomorrow I'll think about finally letting you go."

He turned off the light again, but even in the darkness, you knew he had his cocky smile plastered on.

"Maybe..."

He said before shutting the door behind him once again.

★━━𝙲𝚑𝚘𝚒 𝚂𝚊𝚗━━★

"You seriously enjoy pushing my buttons, don't you sweetheart?"

San's diabolical smile widened as he watched you struggle out of his grip, your protests muffled by the scarf he had wrapped around your mouth. Taking your wrist, he strapped it down onto the table, secured tightly.

You watched in horror as he took out a hammer from the toolbox beside the table.

"You know....I'm actually being nice right now. I was thinking of cutting off your fingers one by one...."

He cringed before continuing.

"But that's too messy and how do you explain that to the doctor's if I need to take you to the hospital? Besides...."

He snickered eerily as he flipped the hammer in his hand.

"Broken fingers heal faster. Hopefully fast enough for you not to try any stupid things like what you just did."

★━━𝚂𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝙼𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚒━━★

Mingi held his cheek, too stunned to say anything.

"Y/N.......you...you..."

He seriously couldn't believe that you, the love of his life, his one and only, his heart and soul, his little angel....actually raised your hand against him.

You felt ashamed at yourself and began walking away, wanting to cool off.

"Y/N wait! Don't leave! Tell me what to do and I'll fix it! I'll do anything you say! Just tell me!" He begged desperately, waiting for instructions from you like a lost puppy.

"Stop Mingi! Just leave me alone for a while." You cried, as you walked out of the building.

Mingi went after you, calling out for you and becoming agitated when he lost sight of you in the dark, cold night. He had tears falling from his eyes and he was scared that he'd never see you again. He was so lost, he didn't see someone come up and rudely shove him to the side.

"Move you little bastard."

Mingi's tears stopped, all the agitation from before turning into rage. He looked over at the person that just passed him and took out the pocket knife he always carried with him. He slowly made his way over to them.....

His mind went blank as soon as the blade sliced open their throat, covering him in their blood.

★━━𝙹𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚆𝚘𝚘𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚐━━★

"Fuck you Jung Wooyoung!"

As soon as your hand collided with his cheek, you immediately regretted it, especially when you saw the anger burning through his eyes.

"Wooyoung...I'm-"

He didn't even give you a chance to apologize as he grabbed your wrist and harshly slammed it against the wall next to you. You cried out in pain and held your hand as you fell to the floor. Your ordeal wasn't over yet as Wooyoung then pulled your arm away and stepped roughly on your hand. If it wasn't broken already from smashing it against the wall, it certainly was now.

He sighed and stroked his cheek as he walked away from you, leaving you there on the floor in pain and agony.

"My patience is wearing thin with you, you little brat..."

He looked at your crying form and rolled his eyes.

"Seriously, why do I put up with you?"

★━━𝙲𝚑𝚘𝚒 𝙹𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚑𝚘━━★

You weren't thinking when you slapped Jongho on the face. Truthfully it didn't hurt him, you weren't that strong. But something snapped inside of him that made him slap you back, but since he's extremely strong, it sent you falling backwards onto the coffee table, effectively breaking it.

As soon as he realized he hurt you, Jongho panicked.

"Oh my God Y/N!"

He carefully turned you over, gasping when he saw the blood trickling down from your nose and your lip that was becoming swollen, not to mention you'd probably have a nasty bruise for a week or two. Jongho began crying and holding you close.

"Baby...I'm so sorry.... I don't know what came over me...."

He sobbed and stroked your hair while you tried to get away from him.

"Honey please stop! I'm just trying to help you! Don't you see? You're too small and fragile to take care of yourself, that's why I have to protect you!"

It never crossed his mind that maybe.....it was really him you needed to be protected from...

Gifs not mine. Credit goes to their respective owners.

[writershapeholeonthedoor]

I’m slowly dying (with or without you) - Supercorp

Read on AO3

*trigger warning for panic attacks*

The first time Lena had a panic attack, she was sixteen years old and she had the application forms from MIT spread in front of her. She was admittedly too young to even have the forms, but she was a Luthor and Luthors have their ways more often than not. Since that was the first time it happened, all the cold sweat, chest pain and trouble breathing scared the living shit out of teenage her, who burst into Lex's room announcing she was having a heart attack. It only made sense, she tried to tell him while all her brother did was stare and stare some more. That's how their father died, after all, they had the genetic predisposition for it. Doesn't matter if Lena took the healthy lifestyle quite seriously, or that she took fencing classes four times a week, practiced tennis every Saturday and ate more vegetables than any other person on the planet. She was definitely having a heart attack.

It wasn't a heart attack, as the family doctor ruled out four hours later after Lex finally drove her to the ER. A panic attack, he explained, aggravated by the fact that Lena didn't know what it was, though it was a heart attack and, as a consequence, thought that she was dying. He gave her a prescription, told her she should search for a specialist and let them go back home. On the way back, Lex told her she shouldn't tell Mother.

"Mother doesn't believe in mental diseases. That's for the weak and she hates the weak."

Lena wanted to point out that Lillian already hated her anyway but her brother did enough for her for one day to get into a discussion with him. So, instead, Lena threw the prescription away and told Lillian she asked Lex to teach her how to drive and they spent the afternoon at a Walmart parking lot. Lillian wasn’t happy with that either, but she was never happy anyway.

Lena had many panic attacks after that first one. It was especially terrifying at first because Lena knew how bad it was, how it made her few like she was about to die, so she would freak out every time her heartbeat would peak for any reason or anytime she felt a tightness in her chest. She assumed that's why the therapy would come in handy, but she hadn't been brave enough to stand up against Lillian for twelve years and she wouldn’t start by demanding to be taken to a psychiatrist.

Instead, she found help in the only place that never failed to help her in times of need. Books.

Lena went to the library and she devoured every book that approached the subject. She took notes, she ate snacks, she made a pause to learn how to drive so Lillian wouldn’t be suspicious, but she learned all she could from those books. Over time, it got easier. She would be able to identify when it was about to happen, she learned breathing exercises, she acquired hobbies that helped calm down her heart rate instead of accelerating it, she started carrying a lavender extract air freshener in her bag, and, overall, she dealt with it by herself.

Lex, before he left home and assumed their father's position at the family's company, would sometimes help. He would engage her in chess matches, entertain her with anecdotes he found funny, explain something about his projects to her. It was almost like he knew what she was going through and he wanted to support her in his own way.

Ironic to think that the same boy who drove her to the hospital in the middle of a panic attack of his own, scared about losing his little sister, would one day become the cause of her panic attacks.

It first happened when she heard about the crimes Lex committed. The atrocities, all the deaths, the pain, the destruction. She knew her brother wasn’t a good person but she never imagined that he was a murderer – a genocidal one, in fact. So, when the first police officer knocked on her door to ask her questions after Lex's first attack, Lena did not react other than panic. Because that was her older brother, the man who taught her how to play chess and who made her life at the Luthor’s residence bearable, and then there was all this proof that the same man was a monster.

It happened again later that night, when she was alone and the words kept repeating in her mind. And it happened over and over again for the months that followed it, sometimes when she heard Lex’s name, sometimes when she saw a news report about it, twice during the trial she had to testify in, sometimes when she was alone and the silence became too loud.

That’s why she picked up her things and left for National City. A change of scenery, one of the articles said, can be the key to progress.

And things shifted and molded once she set foot in the new city. Between running around to build up a company from the ashes and dealing with the mess that was her personal life, Lena didn’t have enough time to think about anything else. She got better at the breathing exercises since she didn’t have enough time to distract herself with other things and, surprisingly, for the first time since she was sixteen, Lena felt like she could handle things just fine on her own.

Then she met Kara and things changed for real. Her first friend in the new city, her best friend in the entire world, made things easier for her. It was easier to breathe, it was easier to go through her day, it was easier to be. Lena never told Kara about her panic attacks – she told no one, actually. She always thought she might have to explain eventually if Kara walked inside her office one day to find her panting behind her desk but that never happened. Lena hadn’t had a panic attack since the day she met Kara and that was as concerning as it was alluring.

How could one person be both the solution and the cause of some of her biggest problems?

It made no sense. Lena would never understand the effect Kara had on her heart – her ability to make her heart beat faster on sight and calmer on demand. As though as she could trigger a panic attack with her smile but the calm feeling she brought with her made it impossible to happen. So, like many things in her life, Lena picked up the problem and, instead of dealing with it, she shoved it inside a box and then pushed it so deep inside her mind that it wasn’t even in the shadows.

(Like her abandonment issues, the frustrated dream of going to Disney only to have Lillian saying she couldn’t go, her fear of heights and the ocean, her trust issues and her undeniable feelings towards her best friend. All the above were securely locked inside her, never to see the light of the day.

For the long two years she had known Kara Danvers, Lena had forgotten how a panic attack could feel so... suffocating. Well, not entirely forgotten. More likely, lost in her memories, replaced by other bad feelings like facing death threats thanks to her own family, falling from buildings, piloting a helicopter, almost dying on a plane and it goes on. She almost had one when she shot Lex – when she found out the truth about the person she had trusted with the biggest parts of her soul, only to find out she had been lying this whole time. She certainly felt very close to having one when Kara confronted her at the Pulitzer. It almost happened when she finally told Kara she knew the truth for quite some time now right before trapping her at the Fortress of Solitude.

All those times the only thing that stopped it from happening was blue orbs staring right back at her. Even if filled with pain, confusion, or hurt, Kara still had the remarkable effect of sending calming waves all over her body. After shooting Lex; while in shock that Kara was admitting to a secret Lena thought she never would; while crying and begging for Lena’s forgiveness behind an impenetrable wall, even to her inhuman strength.

Kara wasn’t there that time though. There was only her, and Lex, and tons of experiments surrounding them, and a broken project on the floor, and a thousand lies.

“I gave you the world!” Lex’s breath was hot and wet from that close to her face. His eyes were so filled with rage, his skin trembling with the sheer force of it, that Lena couldn’t help but writhe under it. “Everything!” Even now, alone inside her apartment, sitting in the dark in complete silence, Lena could still feel the fury directed at her like a hot iron. “I supported you! I sabotaged nothing! Touched nothing! I sacrificed my own goals for you!” And then he lowered his voice, and he resembled his mother much more than their shared father in that second because Lillian Luthor never raised her voice but she always sent the message with the same intensity. “Because you needed to see your little project fail with your own eyes, to know the true depravity of humanity, to know that my way was the only way.”

It was fair to say that Lena couldn’t even remember what exactly she replied to her brother. All she knew was that she needed to get out, to get away from him, to escape. She said a few words, turned on her heels and made her escape without tripping on her own feet although her legs felt wobbly and, her muscles, unsteady. Once inside her house, Lena finally allowed herself to feel.

To feel.

What a weird concept, she thought while sliding down the wall of her bathroom, tears rolling down her cheeks and sobs shaking her body like there was an earthquake shaking her apart. Lena wasn’t good at recognizing and asserting her feelings, and it was even harder when all she felt was sorrow.

Sorrow for having trusted once more, sorrow for having made another mistake, sorrow for having believed, even for a second, that her brother could be different, that she could be different. That a Luthor could help change the world for good. She felt utterly stupid. There wasn’t a part of her cells that didn’t feel the disappointment, the sadness, the grief.

There was so much she needed to do to fix the mess she helped create. And the mix of suffocating feelings with the anxiety of making things right before Lex could destroy humanity eventually led her to an unstoppable panic attack, right there on her bathroom floor, with the shower still running on top of her, the night thick outside and the weight of the world on her shoulders. She knew it was coming from the moment she felt the sadly familiar tightness in her chest but there was nothing she could do to stop it this time.

The floor was cold beneath her, the water was too hot on top of her. Her sobs were shaking her to the core, her tears lost in the spray of the too hot water, her breath was short, shallow and too fast, her heart felt like it was trying to rip its way out of her chest, and her thoughts were running a mile a minute.

She needed to find a way to stop Lex – how could she have trusted him again? She would need help, she couldn’t do it alone. Lex had many friends and she had none – and whose fault was that, really? - Lex had control over every agency around the world now that he altered the timeline – and how did he even do that? - Lena would need to talk with Supergirl. Kara. Kara is Supergirl. Kara is Supergirl and she never told her that. Lex was the one who said it, not Kara, and he said it before Lena shot him.

But he wasn’t dead. Not anymore. He was right there, running the company that once belonged to her, making plans to control humanity like every person meant less than an ant and he was the only one capable of controling every single little thing. Did that analogy even make sense? She wouldn’t know. Her brain was barely functioning. Kara would have liked it either way.

Kara lied to her. For two years, the woman she called her best friend, invented lame excuses to leave her presence when she needed to be Supergirl and, for two years, Lena trusted her with her eyes closed and hands tied behind her back. That’s exactly how she felt in that second as well. Blinded and bound, incapable of moving, breathing even.

Panic attacks can kill, Lena is factually aware of that because she strumbled on stories during her researches. It could cause real heart attacks, veins could burst, lungs could collapse, it could be a real mess albeit very rarely. The ‘very rarely’ part was hard to remember when her chest didn’t seem to expand enough to accommodate air, when her heart was beating so fast she could hear it pounding on her ears, when her arms felt as heavy as two concrete blocks, when her head hurt so bad she felt like it was about to explode.

“I gave you the world!”

He didn’t. Lies. Those were all lies.

“I sacrificed my own goals for you!”

Lies. They were lies.

“I supported you!”

No one had ever supported her before. How foolish of her to think she could do anything right. Lillian was right, she was a waste of space and time. Lex was right, she was a stupid girl who dreamed too much. Her father, who could barely glance at her most days, was most certainly right to avoid her as well. She was a defect, an error, a deficiency on a spinning wheel that she couldn’t control.

Everyone seemed to control her but Lena didn’t have control over anyone.

Was she in the shower or the bathtub? She felt like she was drowning. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t breathe. She was drowning. She was going to die. The walls were closing around her. When did her bathtub get such huge walls? And when did it became so deep? Her lungs were filling with water, she was about to regurgitate the quick snack she ate earlier in the day, and she was going to die.

What a terrible way of going down, she thought between gasps for air and dry sobs. Naked and fallen in your bathroom. The paramedics will have a great laugh, at least. If she’s lucky enough, they won’t snap a picture as a memoir or to sell out to the journals. Although, in the new timeline they found themselves in, did anyone even care about who she was when Lex was the hero?

Guess she wouldn’t be around long enough to find out.

So lost in her own mind, trapped and tortured by it, it took Lena some precious seconds to realize the hot water wasn't hitting her shoulders anymore. Ironically, it made the drowning sensation increase to a laughable level. If she could laugh, that is.

In the back of her mind, behind Lex's scream, Lillian's sneers, her father's passive face, her mother's hand disappearing underwater, she heard it. It was faint, shushed by the cacophony of sounds already screaming inside her head, and it honestly felt like someone was talking with her underwater.

"Lena."

Lena wondered if that's how it felt to be pulled into a hurricane. If that would have the same spiral, out of control, out of body experience. She heard it, her name being called out in the void that had become the space around her, but she couldn't identify the voice or the source. Sometimes it was Lex, screaming into her face. Sometimes it was Lillian, calmly calling her out in all of her life’s failures. Sometimes it was Supergirl, melting and mixing with the woman she once called her best friend. Sometimes it was herself, calling out for help. Either way, it did nothing to soothe her.

"Lena."

They were all right. She wasn't worth it. None of it was actually worth it. Not her project, not her research, not her hard work, not even humanity. Nothing.

"Lena, look at me."

Her eyes were open. She knew that because they were burning like fire - either because of the water or because of the tears, she wasn't sure. But she couldn't focus them. It was like there was nothing to look at. Nothing there. She was alone, as usual. No one wished to be around a Luthor. No one. And people seemed to like to prove that theory using her as the character in a study.

"Please, tell me what's wrong."

Hard to know where to start, to be fair. Was there anything right in her life? Her mother was dead, her father was dead, Lillian hated her, Lex was a manipulative little bitch, Kara was a liar, Sam was miles and miles away taking care of her own life, she had no one else, everything she worked so hard for was gone, not even her house was the same. And she couldn't breathe. She couldn't breathe. How could she still be thinking if she couldn't breathe?

"Are you hurt?"

Everywhere hurt. Every centimeter, as though someone had picked up a piece of wood and beat the crap out of her, albeit she had no recollection of that ever happening. Did that happen? Why was her body hurting like that? Why was her head hurting? And what's up with her chest? Was someone pressing it? Did anyone put a weight on it? What a stupid jerk, if so. Lena doesn't do sports, she can't lift it!

"Lena."

It sounded closer to the surface. Was someone pulling her out of the water? And when did she even get in the ocean? Lena doesn't swim.

"Lena?"

Uncertain. She could relate. And that tone made a bell ring inside her head. Her name, said in that intonation, with such uncertainty, by that voice. She heard it before. Where did she hear it before? Why was she hearing it now?

"Let me help you get up."

That pulled her right out of the water. It was like someone hooked a hand on the back of her neck and unceremoniously pulled her up. The difference was shocking, the reaction was visceral and she was left feeling exactly like a fish out of water.

"Don't touch me!"

She hadn't been touched, Lena realized a second later. Not yet, at least, but a pair of hands were reaching out for her and they were just an inch away before her loud yell stopped them. It came from deep inside her chest, her diaphragm expanding and burning before releasing all the fury like an animal - a scared, cornered animal. The hands retreated immediately and Lena was left to her own. Her ears rang with her scream and she was transported once again to her laboratory a few hours prior.

"Don't touch me," she repeated and it was like someone poked a balloon with a needle. All the anger, all the vice was gone. Left was the defeat, something she was used to but hurt just the same. "Please, don't touch me."

Silence. Despite her heart ringing in her ears, there was silence. Loud. Suffocating. Maddening.

"Okay." She breathed out of water for the first time in what felt like ages. "Okay, I won't."

The air was thick with steam and Lena was reminded of the shower she was supposed to be having. The heavy breaths, the racing heart, the pounding head, it was all still there, and it didn't get any better when she remembered she was naked, sitting on the cold tiles of her bathroom floor, not alone anymore and not in the dark. Was she not alone for long? Had she moved at some point? Her legs were firmly pressed against her chest, her knees raising so high that she could rest her chin on them and, thankfully, it meant all her front was covered, and it also felt like her muscles had been stuck in that position for years, so maybe she hadn't moved. But she also didn't know when she got company. How did she get company? All her doors were locked. She lived on the fifth floor and, even so, the windows were closed.

"Can I..." How did she get inside? "Here, just let me..."

There was shuffling around, the sound of fabric scraping together and Lena was once again reminded of how sensitive her ears got while in the middle of her crisis. Suddenly, pulling her out of her thoughts, she felt something falling over her shoulders and back. Whatever it was, it was heavy, soft and warm, and it helped to set her mind back in the present, her eyes focused, her head snapped up and her breath hitched.

And then she saw her. Well, rationally, Lena knew she was there all along, but her brain wasn't exactly functioning the right way so it was only fair it took her so much time to see Kara Danvers standing in front of her. Not so much standing, the woman was crouching, in fact, her arms reaching out around Lena and her hands holding the edges of something she assumed was the same thing that was draped over her shoulder.

Her former best friend's face was contorted in worry. The crinkle between her brows was prominent, the bright blue eyes were clouded in concern, her lips were tightly pursed in a thin line, and Lena was hooked by her look almost immediately. It was good to have something else to concentrate on, she tried to argue with herself, as though it would explain why her eyes kept moving around Kara’s face like she was a damn Michelangelo sculpture.

The hands didn’t touch her, successfully avoiding her skin after her explosion, but Lena still thought they were too close for comfort. The ends of whatever was dropped on top of her came to lay on her knees, in front of her arms, and Lena noticed that it skillfully covered all of her body. Curious, she forced her eyes to stop staring at blue ones and look down, albeit the pressure on her throat did no good to her current panicking state.

Red. Red like Supergirl’s cape. Lena panted quite heavily when she recognized that it was, in fact, Supergirl’s cape. Now being used as a blanket to cover her naked body, something she never thought would happen. The material felt harsh against her sensitive, reddened skin, brushing against her in an almost painful way. It was also heavier than it looked, definitely pushing her shoulders down and ruining her posture. But, oh, so warm. So warm.

“Lena, what happened? Can you tell me?”

Her eyes moved back at the blonde force of nature standing in front of her. The rest of the suit was missing, Lena realized, although not sure why her brain decided to jolt back to life to realize that specific detail. Kara was wearing jeans and a black deo sweatshirt that looked so soft that Lena wished she could bury her face in it and never let go. If Kara would still be wearing the sweater while she did that, well, that would just be a bonus.

“Talk to me, please. I’m worried.”

She certainly looked like it, Lena’s mushed thoughts wanted her to say. With a grimace, Kara indeed looked as worried as she could get. Her features reminded Lena of other times – of crashing helicopters, assassination attempts, falling from rooftops - all of which she hadn’t control over but she had Supergirl around to save her and make things easier. It was hard to associate the worried face of her best friend with the unbreakable pose of the superhero, even more so when they were blending together right now in front of her.

"Okay, Lena, you have to take deep breaths." No shit, she wanted to say. Do you think I enjoy breathing those shallow breaths that makes me gasp and leaves me desperate for more air? Not at all. It's not like her body was cooperative either.

"Can you do that?"

Lena didn't particularly feel like she would ever be able to breathe normally again. Rationally, she knew it would all go away in a few moments - leaving behind the dull ache in her chest and the bad feelings to deal with. However, stuck in her own mind, unable to breathe, fully panicking and totally lost, Lena was certain she was either going to live the rest of her life like that or that she was about to die - which, come to think about it, were actually one and the same.

Establishing that did nothing to help her calm down, unfortunately.

"Here, try with me."

She didn't want to. Lena truly didn't want to. She wanted, needed, Kara to move. She felt cornered, her back pressed against the wall and Kara in front of her. Her breath wasn't going to ease anytime soon while she was feeling like that. When Kara could so easily just... scream at her face, yell, grab, hurt. No, she needed space.

"Get out," her voice was hoarse, out of breath, and held none of the commands she intended it to have. Of course, the woman didn't move. "Get out."

To no avail. Her second request also fell on deaf ears. Well, selective ears, more likely. "I know you're mad at me, but you're clearly not okay so I'm not leaving you alone."

Lena didn't want to be alone. She just wanted to see the door. She wanted to see the exit and know there was a way out. Although, considering the inhuman force standing in front of her, was there really a way out? She couldn’t push Kara away, she wasn't strong enough. Supergirl was an unmovable object and Lena was no unstoppable force.

That was clearly the wrong route for her thoughts to take. Her already short breath became more erratic, her vision blurred and her chest tightened so painfully that she couldn’t help but think she was wrong and it was indeed a heart attack.

"Move," she choked. She was drowning again, faster than before. And who gave Kara the right to push her back in the water after taking her out?

For the second time.

Fortunately, Kara seemed to understand what she meant. At least, parts of it. Because she moved, taking a step to the side the best she could on her still crouching position. For a second, she just stopped there, eying Lena with bright blue eyes and furrowed brows, before she ducked her head.

"Please, tell me how I can help you."

Lena needed help. She could do it without it but she would be better sooner if she accepted the help. She didn't deserve - the soft voice, the worried face, the cape getting wet against her damp skin - but Kara was still there and Lena could be selfish for a few more minutes just so she could breathe again.

"The water."

The blonde was up to her feet in less than a second - literally, even. Lena would blame the adrenaline rush for her achievement, but she was able to shoot her hand out and grab Kara's hand before she could go farther away. Confused, the woman looked down. Broken, Lena looked up.

"Don't."

There was a pause, precious seconds being wasted, before Kara's eyes widened slightly and her other hand moved to turn the shower faucet again. The water hit Lena's back like thunder, sending electricity all over her nerves. It was hot, hotter than it was healthy to be, and it burned more painfully than she was comfortable with. But it pulled her out of the ocean again, it put the floor back under her feet, and Lena allowed the small comfort to wash over her.

Kara just stood there, her shoes getting wetter and the legs of her pants getting damp with the water splashing on the tiles, but she didn't move. Lena realized she was wearing comfortable sweatpants and a DEO hoodie that made her wonder what her former best friend was doing before showing up in her bathroom. How could she have her cape and not the rest of her suit? Kara just blinked down at her.

Then Lena let her hand drop back to her knee, releasing Kara from her hold - although, Kara could have freed herself just as easily. That seemed to bring the tall blonde back to life because she instantly moved out of the way again, leaving enough room so Lena could see the shower glass door and the bathroom’s wooden door. Her way out.

"You still need to take deep breaths."

"I-I-I-I ca-can't," Lena shook her head as she spoke, which didn't help with getting the words out.

There was a deep sigh all of sudden and she was almost offended to realize it had come from Kara. But then the other woman was moving again before her eyes could focus on her face and Lena was left to imagine if she was annoyed or not. Probably so. She probably realized Lena didn't deserve her help and that she got her sneakers wet for nothing.

Just as Lena was about to sob again, Kara sank by her side. Quite literally, she was standing one second, and then sliding by her side using the wall to support herself in the next one. Lena could only watch when the blonde sat by her side like the shower wasn't getting her clothes completely wet as well, like her loose hair wasn't clinging onto her skin and messing up her curly strands, like she wasn't sitting beside a naked and panicking woman.

Before Lena could even ask what the hell she was doing - if she could even find her voice - Kara reached her right hand out until she grasped Lena's left one. For a second, it felt like a complete stranger was touching her, like they had never touched before. It took a second, and then Kara's hand was like a rock against her trembling ones and Lena let herself be guided until her palm was resting against the woman's sternum. Kara held her hand there firmly as though she was afraid Lena would try to pull away, though she wasn't sure she could even move at that moment.

"Here, with me. In." Lena tried. "In, Lena. Deep breath in, come on, you can do it. In." Her lungs expanded and Kara nodded, copying her movement almost exaggeratedly. "Now out, slowly." She tried but it came out shaky and unsteady, so she gave up in the middle of it, letting out a huff of breath. "Again." Against Kara's chest, her hand followed the movements of her muscles and she tried to force her lungs to match the same pace.

Tired, Lena closed her eyes and let her head fall back until it hit the wall behind her. The water was now cascading down her face and neck, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care. She had managed to get on the safety boat and Kara was slowly pulling her back to shore.

"Does counting help?" She shook her head no. "Silence?" Another shake, more urgent this time. "Okay, I guess the blasting rock music should have been my tip-off."

Lena chuckled. It held no real humor - because she didn't find any amusement in that - but she still felt the need to let the other woman know the distraction was appreciated. Before a panic attack would start, silence, breathing exercises and calming music would do wonders to her. But after it was already happening, there wasn't much she could do to help herself.

"Maybe it could help?" Kara offered gently. "Not blasting rock on your stereo, but some music, I mean. I could go put it on."

"No," Lena shook her head again. Her breathing had started to even out, albeit it peaked again under the prospect of being alone again.

"Okay." Kara squeezed the hand she was holding. "Tell me what I can do to help."

Lena breathed in and out twenty more times - she counted them as her muscles started to lose some of the tension - before she released a deep sigh. "You already are. Just... Just stay here."

“I’m here,” the blonde stated without an ounce of doubt in her voice, or any indication that she might not be there any time soon, so Lena allowed herself to focus on her breaths.

Kara didn’t let go of her hand and she didn’t try to recover it, and it took her a few seconds to realize that was the first time in almost a year that they were touching each other. Lena wasn’t sure whose fault that was anymore – not when her brain was still foggy. All she knew, all too well, was the pain still lingering in her chest, poking her wounds, breaking her walls at the same time it put two bricks at a time to replace the one that went down. And Lena learned that it was the only thing worth carrying around because it was the only thing that made you wiser – the good feelings make you weaker, Lillian would say.

“This might cheer you up,” the woman beside her commented suddenly and Lena almost jumped out of her skin – for a second, she forgot someone was keeping her company in her very large bathroom. “I beat Alex’s ass today. We were sparring. I won. Don’t believe her if she tries to tell you otherwise.”

Lena was sure she was lying. It was quite obvious when Kara was lying. Her voice got just a note higher and she spoke in broken sentences, as though her mind couldn’t form a complete long-phrase and would just come up with things as she spoke. Lena knew that. She had noticed that little quirk of her friend a few months into their friendship. It still amazed her how long she allowed herself to be blinded by Kara’s secret just because she thought...

What did she think, exactly? That Kara wouldn’t lie to her? That Kara was different from every other person who had ever been a part of her life? Even when she knew when her friend was lying? Even when she knew Kara’s voice enough to know when she was hiding something?

Who was the real idiot there?

Feeling overly exposed to those intrusive thoughts that were doing nothing to help her, Lena hugged the red cape closer around her body and shivered. Although the water falling from the shower was hot, it wasn’t enough to keep the soaked cape warm enough to keep her body temperature high, neither was the cold floor against her naked skin helping in any way. She wasn’t about to move, though.

“I was doing my laundry when I heard your heartbeat spike.”

The admission sounded quieter and almost shy, but Lena didn’t have the strength to look over at the woman who used to know all of her secrets – and offered only lies in exchange – to see it herself. Instead, she kept breathing in a perfect match with Kara. In and out. In and out. Hold in, slowly out.

“I tried to call your phone, but you didn’t answer. I called your name, but I didn’t get a response. I thought you were dying, so I panicked and broke your balcony door. I will fix it, promise.”

Lena almost laughed at that. She tried to picture it, the puppy reporter holding a shovel or mixing cement. The prospect of having Supergirl doing it was even funnier. And, for God’s sake, Kara Danvers is Supergirl and she had to hear it from Lex after she shot him.

“I thought I was dying too,” Lena confessed in a weak whisper that was barely audible.

Kara’s thumb was doing circles on the back of her hand and on the side of her wrist. For how long she had no idea, but that seemed to be the last paddles taking her to shore. “What happened?”

“I gave you the world! Everything!”

She could still feel it. His breath against her face, his saliva hitting her skin, his voice ringing against her ears, resounding on her head, breaking her down. Lex himself had never laid a finger on her. Over the years he had paid numerous men to try and take her life – and how many of those attempts were stopped by Supergirl? – but her own brother never physically assaulted her. Words, on the other hand, were his biggest weapon and Lex was a master at operating his guns.

He learned that from Lillian, as did Lena, ironically. Although the three of them were very different from each other. While Lillian held venom in her words, she never raised her voice. Lena had seen her in many levels of anger throughout her life, but she never saw her scream or yell. Lex dealt with things like her total opposite. He wouldn’t scream at every corner, however, he would get frustrated very easily and his way to lash out was to yell and let it all out. Meanwhile, Lena used sarcasm and some very well-made phrases.

She had only screamed once out of anger and it had been into Supergirl’s face right before she locked her away like an animal. Lena didn’t think she would have been able to scream if she was confronting Kara instead. Sweet, innocent Kara, although now she knew the truth. Now, months later, she wasn’t even sure she could scream at Supergirl again.

“Lena, breath in and out with me.”

Her breathing had accelerated again. It made sense, Lena thought with a generous amount of bitterness. Thinking about Lex and Lillian did that to her. “I think I’m going to puke.” As soon as she said it, her stomach made a sickening churn and she heaved a dry gasp. There was no thinking. She was going to puke.

“Can I help you get to the toilet?”

The other alternative was puking all over Supergirl’s cape. And maybe the idea was a little appealing, she wasn’t going to lie, but she also didn’t wish to puke all over herself. So instead Lena nodded and, in a blink, Kara slid from her sitting position to the same crouching stance she had before. This time, she held Lena's hand still close to her chest before she searched for the other one underneath her own cape. Lena was in no condition to be self-aware of her nudity or the fact that her former best friend was brushing much more skin than she was comfortable with.

“Here, I will pull you up and carry you.”

Lena wanted to protest but the bile was already high on her throat, her legs were still shaking and her head was spinning. Nodding, she let herself be pulled up to a standing position. In that second, many things went through her head – she was going to puke right then and there, the cape was sliding off her shoulders and her front was definitely naked, and Kara was very, very impressively holding her up since Lena had no strength on her muscles. The blonde let go of one of her hands so she could use the other one to adjust the cape around the smaller quivering woman before she easily scooped her into her arms and stepped out of the shower.

They were both wet and water started dripping on the floor immediately. However, Lena was not going to worry about it when her body was rebelling against her. Kara kneeled on the floor, taking the brunette with her like she weighed less than a penny, and Lena was hovering over the toilet a second later. She hadn’t eaten anything after the quick snack earlier that day, Lena remembered too late, because all that rose in her throat was liquid mixed with bile that left a burning trail on the way. She panted a couple of times, emptying her already empty stomach, until all she could do was cough.

“Breathe,” Kara reminded her softly and she came to realize the woman was sitting behind her on the floor, holding her wet hair up and out of the way, drawing soothing circles on her back. “Do you need to go to the hospital? I can take you.”

“N-No.”

“Or maybe the DEO, if you prefer,” the not-so-secret-anymore hero tried again. “Or Alex. I can call Alex or take you to her.”

“Kara,” Lena interrupted her, one of her hands letting go of the sides of the toilet to touch the woman’s thigh behind her – the only place she could reach in their position. Her mind felt much lighter now that her body had made the last rebel act against her. “I will be fine. It’s a panic attack. I’ve had them before, it’s fine.” That came out all shaky and broken as she fought to get enough breath to say the words.

Strong fingers closed around hers on a strong thigh. “I don’t know what to do, please tell me what I can do to help.”

Lena sighed, her entire body losing the rest of strength it had and falling on her knees on the floor. She let her upper body rest against the side of the toilet, trying to ignore the smell coming from it, as her fingers dug into a muscular thigh so hard that she was sure her knuckles were white. She closed her eyes and ran her other hand against her forehead to try to stop the drops of water and sweat from reaching her eyes.

She was allowed to be selfish for just a while longer.

“Alex kicked your ass, didn’t she?”

There was a startled silence behind her before a huff was heard, the warm breath hitting the side of her face. “She wishes. I totally won. Big time.”

The worst liar who ever existed – and Lena was the fool who fell for every single one of them. “Where’s the rest of your suit?”

“Washing.”

“I made the suit myself,” Lena reminded her. “It uses nanotechnology. You don’t have to wash it.”

“No need to brag, geez.”

Lena laughed. She just couldn’t help it. When was the last time she laughed? She couldn’t tell. It happened so long ago that she didn’t even remember that. One thing she was sure of: it was definitely because of Kara. And there she was again.

“Like I said, I was sparring with Alex. She insists I use my cape so I can learn how to escape if anyone grabs it.” Kara sighed. “She also said I should have kept the skirt and removed the cape.”

“What did you tell her?”

“That I still have the skirt somewhere if she wants to use it and see how it feels like.”

The younger woman scoffed and opened her eyes again. Her heart wasn’t beating so fast anymore, the worst of it seemed to be over, but her chest still felt tight. “You were wearing the cape with a hoodie?”

Kara looked down at her own outfit like she hadn’t noticed it before. Her clothes were soaked and clinging into her body, but she just shrugged. “I like the hoodie, it’s comfy.”

“Well, it’s better than what I have right now,” Lena avoided looking down because the last thing she needed was to see how very much naked she was in the presence of the woman she was once in love with.

Although it still felt like she was, being completely and utterly honest. Lena could lie to people around her but she wasn’t going to lie to herself. If she didn’t have any type of romantic feelings towards Kara, she would never have been blind enough to miss the huge piece of information that was almost screamed into her face every day. And if she had got over said feelings, she wouldn’t have followed Kara out to offer her condolences over Jeremiah’s death, neither would she spend two hours in a bookstore trying to find the perfect book, neither would she still have Kara’s photo in her phone and a perfect copy on her table.

 “Do you want me to grab you something to wear?” Kara asked softly, as though she was also noticing for the first time that the other woman was naked – though, she did go out of her way to cover her when she got there.

Lena tossed the idea around her head a couple of times before she nodded. “Just... don’t be long.” How pathetic. Lillian would have smirked at her, the same smirk that made her feel like she was worth less than gum on her shoe. Lex would have laughed in her face.

“Two seconds, I promise.”

It took her two seconds, indeed. The gush of wind from her departure was not even gone before Kara was back, holding a change of clothes in her hands. She put it by the sink before stepping back with a shy smile.

“I will let you change, but I will be just outside, okay?”

“Kara, I-“ Lena closed her eyes in shame. “I don’t think I can stand by myself without puking again.”

Or passing out. Or starting another attack. Or wishing to throw herself from the closest window. Either way, Kara seemed to understand because she approached her again, this time with both hands extended in front of her body. Lena took them without a second thought, as though trusting Kara came as second nature to her – something she thought she had forgotten almost a year ago. The blonde helped her to her feet and Lena had to let go of one of her hands to hold the cape in front of her chest to keep it wrapped around herself.

She must be a view, she thought then. Wet, eyes swollen because of the tears, panic still lingering at the corners of her eyes and wrapped around Supergirl’s cape. She must have looked even more ridiculous than she felt.

Once standing, Kara held her hand for a few more seconds. “Are you good?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure? Your heartrate is spiking again.”

Lena nodded. “I’m still in the middle of it. It will take a while to wear off.”

“What else can I do?” She had no answer for that and Kara clearly had no idea what to do, so she kept talking because that’s what she did. “What if I make you some tea? Would that help?”

“I guess.”

“Okay, good.” Kara nodded and took a step back, ready to get the new task in her hands done.

“Just...” the brunette sighed. “Just don’t close the door.”

Kara didn’t, and even if Lena was a little self-conscious about it, she was also thankful. Still shaking, she found herself a towel in the cabinet and let the hero’s cape fall from her body so she could get dry. Lena tried to do it as fast as she could. She could hear Kara moving around her kitchen and suddenly her bathroom felt too suffocating. She needed to get out.

Once completely dried, she picked the clothes Kara brought her. Yoga pants that she hadn’t worn since the last time she went to spinning classes – which, ironically enough, happened with Kara by her side – and a hoodie that Lena knew all too well. The gray sweater from National City University that belonged to Kara. The woman loaned her that when she found Lena drunkenly slurring her words out, drinking wine in her dark apartment, and turns out Lena never gave it back to her.

It’s not like she stole it. It’s just she wasn’t going to give it back to her friend without washing it first, but then she didn’t want to run any risks of ruining it, so she was going to do that separate from the other clothes. When she finally realized it, a month had gone by and they were having the third movie night where Lena was wearing the sweater and Kara had yet to say a thing. When she tried to give it back, Kara said she should make it her official movie night uniform.

Lena would never admit to wearing that sweater when she missed Kara during their fall-out, but she was also not going to deny it.

Either way, Kara had opened her closet – her ridiculously large closet – and between all the options, she chose her National City University hoodie for Lena to wear. That was, admittedly, the only hoodie Lena had, but she had other sweaters and long sleeve shirts Kara could have picked.

God, Lena was really going to grasp onto thin hopes, wasn’t she?

The bile was still burning in the back of her throat, so she moved to the sink next so she could brush her teeth, half wishing she could also have a mint or something. Even without it, she felt remarkably better already.

Kara was leaning against the counter with her right hip, dipping the tea bag inside her favorite mug - something ridiculously colorful with chemical elements all over that the woman herself gave Lena because it "reminded me of you" - and her face was serious, as though she was truly putting all her attention in not screwing up the task in her hands. She had pulled her hair in a ponytail to lock away the wet, messy curls, and her clothes seemed a bit drier, like she somehow had put it to fast dry while Lena changed. More likely she just used her breath or ran around for a few seconds. Her left hand was stuffed inside the pocket of her sweatpants, her jaw was set and Lena could see, even from the distance, that she was frowning as well.

And there was something in the way she just stood there, looking completely out of place and totally belonging there at the same time that just clicked something deep inside Lena.

Something she had buried away a long time ago, shoved inside a box and pushed it deep, deep, deep in her mind.

She could admit she had made a mistake when she started working with Lex, and she could admit she made a mistake when she locked Kara inside her own fortress, and she could admit she made a mistake when she closed her eyes to the truth screaming right into her face. She could admit she fell in love with Kara, she could admit she tried to fight it, she could admit it only broke her heart more than if she had talked with Kara about it. She could admit many things, but she would never admit how many times she dreamed about the scene in front of her. Dreamed about the domesticity that she always wished for, but never voiced.

“Are you feeling better?” Kara asked, snapping her out of her thoughts. The blonde had straightened her body against the counter, she picked up the mug between her long fingers and tried to smile, although it was constricted and uneasy.

Feeling better? Lena hadn’t felt better in almost a year. She felt angry, and lonely, and empty most of the time, and none of those feelings had washed away. They still hadn't. Those were some long months. It was a long time to spend alone, trying to find your way in a world you thought you knew while it seemed to be burning around you. It was a long time missing your friends, your found family, the days where everything was simpler. It was a long time battling to do good and hold everything together when you had no idea how to hold yourself together.

At least, she could breathe, unlike ten minutes ago when she was heaving desperate breaths on her bathroom floor.

So, she nodded. And Kara smiled a bit softer, and her next breath came a bit easier. At that moment, while her former best friend took a few steps closer to hand her the tea and offered her a smile she hadn’t seen in a long time, Lena realized she was remorseful. After everything that happened in the last hours, after another disappointment and another day missing and aching something that she lost, all she could feel was remorse.

She should apologize. She could try, at least. Ask for forgiveness after doing the things she did. Kara had a big heart – the biggest she ever saw – and maybe, just maybe, she would find it in herself the possibility to forgive her. Something that Lena hadn’t been able to do a year ago when she shot Lex and found out the truth.

But, then again, it was her own fault for closing her eyes to the truth for so long. It was obvious – painfully obvious – and she told herself over and over again that she was crazy for even considering it to be real. Perhaps she had been angrier at herself than at Kara. Perhaps she was just angry in general. After a year, it was hard to remember.

She picked up the mug from Kara’s hand, making sure they wouldn’t touch, before she took two steps back so fast that it was like she had been burned. Kara noticed it, of course she did, and her expression hardened again when she also took a few steps back. The blonde hero leaned back against the counter while Lena fought the urge to run and hide. Instead, she felt the coldness of a wall behind her and let her back rest there as she slowly brought the cup to her lips.

The tea was made the exact way she liked it, she noticed when the hot liquid touched her tongue. With just a splash of milk, no sugar, strong. Lena took a long sip as she avoided looking at Kara again. Her mind chose that moment to remind her that her former best friend had just witnessed a very real mental breakdown she had in her bathroom, that she had seen her crying naked on the floor, that she had begged not to be alone.

If she had trouble facing Kara with all the regrets from before, now she could barely stay in the same room as her.

“Do you want something to eat?”

Lena almost pointed out that she had barely eaten for almost a year. She used to have Kara dropping by at lunch or dinner with a bag of food to remind her to take a break and eat, but there was no one there to do it once Kara was gone.

Not gone, Lena reminded herself. Sent away.

Instead, she shook her head and took another sip of her tea. It was vanilla, which was a weird choice for that hour of the day. She usually likes drinking vanilla tea after lunch, black tea in the morning, and chamomille at night. Those were things Kara didn’t know, she thought. They hadn’t shared enough breakfasts for her to know it, and she was always gone when Lena indulged herself with a tea after lunch.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?”

Again, she shook her head.

“I supported you! I sabotaged nothing! Touched nothing! I sacrificed my own goals for you!”

Lena closed her eyes and took a deep breath of the steam leaving the mug to let the smell wash over her. Lex had bad breath. Always had, if she was going to be honest. She remembers noticing it even when she was a kid and he was reading her books in bed, waiting for her to sleep when in reality she was too entranced in the story to actually do it. After she grew up, she started thinking if his bad breath was caused by his putrid soul. A manifestation of his rotten interior, as funny as it sounded. Either way, she could still feel his breath against her face and it made her stomach churn again.

“I should go.”

She hadn’t realized she had opened her eyes until she was blessed by the sight of a slightly annoyed Kara. The hero was unhappy, probably because of her lack of response, and she had pushed herself from the counter as though she was actually going to start walking away.

Away from Lena. Again.

Away.

“No,” she found herself saying before she could think about it.

No, don’t go.

No, don’t leave.

No, don’t walk away.

No, don’t leave me alone.

She could say any of the above and they would all be the truth. She didn’t. She couldn’t. She still had her pride, although faltered. Instead, Lena looked down to the dark floor of her kitchen and tried not to purse her lips in the same way Lillian hated.

"You can yell at me all you want later," she declared. “I just... I can’t be alone. It could... It could happen again.”

It wasn’t unusual, Lena thought to herself. Her panic attacks always came in pairs, which was a bit ironic considering Lena herself barely had any friends. And, even when she managed to avoid the second one, the feelings eating her inside still wouldn’t leave for days on end. And it wasn’t like she couldn’t be alone. She could, she had been alone for most of her panic attacks since she first started having them, but she didn’t want to. Not when Kara was there again. Not when she was sorry and Kara was there.

"I'm not going to yell at you.” That wasn’t what Lena was waiting to hear. She was expecting some lame excuse or no answer at all as Kara walked away. She wasn’t ready for what she heard.

"Please,” she scoffed and rolled her eyes because, of course, Kara would yell. Lex had yelled, her father had yelled, Lillian had yelled in her own quiet way. And it wasn’t like Kara didn’t deserve to let her frustrations with Lena out. “You can scream, say I'm worthless, call me names, say you hate me. Yell whatever you want later,” Lena shrugged and sighed. “Right now I just..."

Need you to stay and keep my mind busy.

She didn’t have the chance to say it, though. Kara interrupted her before she could, her voice firm and only slightly raised. "I don't hate you.” Their eyes locked from across the room. Kara was frowning, her hands had gripped the counter behind her, and her face was hard. When she spoke next, her words were calmer, although they held the same intention. “I might not agree with everything you did but I don't hate you.” Another pause, this time her voice came out broken and uncertain. “Do you hate me?"

Maybe. Lena wasn’t sure she ever hated Kara, albeit it was easy to think she did.

Kara had always brought most of her feelings from within her. The good was easy to see. Her loyalty to her only friend in a new city, her happiness, her love. Those were easy to feel and, even more, good to feel. After she accepted that Kara was the person that would make her feel more than anyone else in her life, Lena even bathed herself in those new things. But, it turned out, Kara also made her feel the max out of the bad as well. The rejection, the betrayal, the hurt.

And those were hard to feel. Those feelings she didn’t want to feel.

She did, though.

And perhaps it made her hate Kara for a second.

"Hate is the only thing I was taught was okay to feel," Lena admitted lowly, her breath blowing away the fog coming from the mug at the same time her eyes moved to the big glass door across the room. Outside, the night was heavy, the clouds were probably hiding the stars and the moon was only showing its right side. Inside, the tension was just as heavy, the hurt was hiding Lena’s true feelings and the tea was now lukewarm.

It felt like a lifetime ago when Kara first waltzed in her life, bringing the sun and all its shine with her. Certainly felt more than a year.

Inside, there was Kara, standing in front of her after a year of doing everything she could to keep her distance. Inside her apartment, there was Kara, strong and determined. Inside her heart, Kara was being pushed away by a monster called hurt, although she refused to leave. Not for the first time, Lena wondered if she would ever heal. Maybe she was too broken already. She felt hollow. She had felt like that for a long time now.

“Lena, do you hate me?”

The question was made with so much hesitation that Lena felt her heart sink, skip a beat, and start running at the same time. She was sorry, God, she was so damn sorry. But she was so hurt too. It was a lot to feel for someone that hadn’t felt much all her life. Or maybe she had felt too much all her life.

It was hard to say.

“No.” The admission came easier than it should have, Lena thought to herself. She did hate Kara, for only a second and only because hate was something she knew how to feel since she was a child. But it was only for a second. Enough to make her lose her breath and make some terrible decisions. Enough to make her scream and lock Kara away, and then lose herself. Enough to make her hate herself. “God. I tried, I tried so hard to hate you, what you did, your lies, your actions, your betrayal. But I can't. I can’t hate you.”

For whatever reason, she looked back to the other woman. Kara’s eyes were still hard, her brows were still furrowed, her lips were still pushed together in a thin line, but there was a small glint in her eyes that looked suspiciously like tears. She didn’t look angry exactly, but she didn’t look happy either. Lena suddenly remembered the face that had looked at her inside her bathroom – concerned and desperate to help – and she almost wished it back. She remembered the cape draped on her shoulders and the soft hand grasping at hers. She remembered lies next and it all came crashing down.

“Do you want to?” Kara asked eventually.

She didn’t look like she actually wanted the answer for that and Lena didn’t truly want to give her one. She did, however. Because her chest was still too tight and her thoughts were jumbled and her heart was aching for the past year and her sun hadn’t shone ever since.

“Yes.” Kara looked surprised, only for a second, before she started looking angry and Lena could almost hear her voice raising to yell at her next – and she deserved it, didn’t she? She decided to talk faster to avoid it regardless of that. “It would be easier than loving you.” The hero now looked shocked and Lena huffed a humorless laugh at that. “I’m sure it would hurt less.”

That was a lie. She couldn’t be sure it would hurt less. She hoped it would hurt less because, right now, it hurts like a bitch and it was hard to think it could be worse than that. The universe wouldn’t be so cruel. Or maybe it would. It tended to have a great laugh with her.

“Lena...”

Lena shrugged, took another sip of her lukewarm tea and sighed. When she looked up again, Kara had moved. She had taken a couple of steps closer before she stopped, took three steps back, then moved forward again. She came to a halt in the middle of Lena’s ridiculously big kitchen, with her mouth opening and closing like she was trying to say something but had no idea what to say, and Lena almost laughed.

Almost.

She didn’t, though. Because she felt more like crying than laughing for almost a year now.

“I will have your cape washed and return it tomorrow,” she said, took a deep breath, and reached out to put her mug down and crossed her arms. “I hope you don’t mind if I use...” coconut soap. That was what she was going to say and it would be more out of depracative humor than actual concern for Kara’s soap preferences, but the words died at the back of her throat when she noticed that the blonde was moving again.

Closer.

Really close.

Somehow, closer than they had been inside her bathroom because, in there, Kara had touched her hand and nothing else. In the kitchen, her former best friend suddenly raised her hand to touch Lena’s jaw.

“What are you doing?” she asked and she sounded completely out of breath as though she was in the middle of a new panic attack. Which wouldn’t be surprising. There wasn’t a mirror around, but Lena could picture the surprise on her face and the panic behind her eyes as she waited for Kara’s response.

“I just...” Blue eyes flicked from her eyes to her lips, then back to her eyes, and Kara looked so lost that Lena almost asked her if she needed to sit down and take a breath. “I just need to try something.”

Kara’s lips were softer than they looked, which came as a shock. Lena gasped the first time she felt them touching hers and her eyes widened as her arms fell to her side, not sure what was even going on. Kara tasted like a matcha green latte from Starbucks – and Lena hated matcha with all her being – and onion ring chips that she remembered were one of Kara’s favorite snacks. She smelled a bit like sweat and deodorant, and she kind of kissed Lena’s teeth at first before their lips touched.

Lena always imagined their first kiss – and, yes, she had thought about it like an obsessed person since she first met the blonde – would be the sweetest thing ever, with fireworks exploding in the background, racing hearts and shy giggles. Things she saw in the romantic comedies she watched on numerous movie nights because she knew Kara liked them. Things she had never experienced herself, but thought they would happen when she kissed the woman she had fallen in love with so deeply.

That wasn’t the case.

There were no fireworks and it wasn’t sweet either. Her heart was racing, though. One thing checked. The kiss was heavy with hurt and a year of distance. The giggles didn’t come. It was hard, and messy, and out of sync, and Lena felt almost angry at Kara for taking that fantasy away from her. For crushing another thing in her life.

Instead, she tried to take it back by biting the blonde’s bottom lip hard enough to make her gasp, by raising one hand to grab the back of Kara’s neck to pull her close at the same time she pulled her hair harder than was necessary, by raising her other hand to grasp at the front of her hoodie to both tug her closer and push her away. Instead, she swallowed Kara’s gasp and shoved her tongue inside her mouth. Instead, she tried to hate Kara at the same time she loved her.

Instead, she only hated herself.

Kara pushed her back against the wall she was leaning against, kissing her back as hard as she was, but Lena didn’t allow her to take any control away from her. She felt a strong hand holding her hip as the other one cupped her face. Their push and pull lasted about a minute before they both realized there was no point in fighting it. No point in pushing.

Like wildfire in a dry forest, there was no way to stop it.

Kara’s hand was suddenly under her sweater – Kara’s borrowed sweater – touching her still damp skin and raising goosebumps everywhere she touched. Then her own hands were pulling Kara’s hoodie away, then her legs were wrapping around a slim waist, strong arms were picking her up, soft lips were kissing her neck and white teeth were biting her skin, and Lena felt the fire explode.

Inside, outside, everywhere.

She felt underwater again. She couldn’t hear anything other than the thunder her heart was creating inside her chest, and she wasn’t sure she was feeling anything other than the wandering hand beneath her clothes. Was there even anything else to feel? To hear?

“Lena?”

Lena didn’t open her eyes, even when her brain caught up with the distance Kara added between them. She had been barely able to feel Kara’s lips before, but she missed them once they were gone. She missed the warmth, the softness, even the taste. And she missed Kara’s hand once her former best friend removed it from the cold skin of her ribs.

“Lena? Your heartrate is spiking again.”

Kara sounded scared, although Lena had no idea why. She had witnessed a panic attack just a few minutes prior. Surely, she should know Lena wouldn’t die by now.

“Lena?”

She should do something about it. Take her mind away off it before it became a real, full-on panic attack that would consume her again.

“Onion ring chips.”

“Uh?”

Lena almost smiled at the confusion she could hear in Kara’s voice. She tilted her head down to hide the grin that insisted to appear, grabbed the blonde’s hoodie even harder and made sure that Kara knew she wasn’t supposed to pull away any further by tightening her hold at the nape of her neck. No point in pushing.

“You taste like onion ring chips.”

“Oh,” it was just a release of her breath, either in relief or more confusion, but Lena could picture Kara’s face perfectly even with her eyes closed – a crinkle between her brows, big blue eyes, pink lips pushed together. “Yeah, I, uh, I was eating before I came.” Blinking her eyes open, Lena sighed, nodded distractedly and tried to focus on everything she could see. Blue eyes, the crinkle, the tiny scar, pink lips, a black hoodie that was way softer than it looked, a faint blush. “Your heart is quite fascinating,” Kara mumbled under her breath when she raised one hand to fiddle with her glasses.

Lena immediately missed her touch. She wouldn’t, however, voice that. She could have, a year ago, but not anymore. Now, she bit the inside of her cheek and pretended she didn’t care when Kara let her hand drop instead of putting it on her waist again.

“Did you figure it out?” she whispered.

“What?”

“You said you needed to try something,” Lena reminded her with just a hint of bitterness. “Did you figure it out?”

Kara took a step back as though she had burned her. Half of her wanted to follow, to pursue, to touch and be touched. The other half, the one that still held some sanity, crossed her arms and hardened her expression. For the first time that night, the hero looked like she would rather be anywhere else.

“I-” Kara stopped, gulped, shook her head, looked down, placed both hands on her waist, looked up, down again, and then shrugged like she had just been defeated. Like she had just walked away from the hardest battle of her life without a victory. “Yes,” she ended up saying after Lena thought she would just fly away without looking back. “Yes, I did.”

At that, Lena cracked a smile. It was filled with bitterness and every bad feeling swirling inside her chest, and she wasn’t brave enough to look at Kara to see her reaction to the brokenness that was clear on her face. She was broken and she didn’t have the strength to hide it that night.

“Okay.”

Kara took another step back and the uncertainty, the hesitation she was feeling was clear as day in her blue eyes. Lena had forgotten. She had forgotten they were supposed to be enemies now, working on different sides and making accusations instead of sharing lunch while watching crap TV.

What an irony, Lena thought. What an irony that they had to kiss as enemies when they had been friends for much longer. When friends had meant much more.

The blonde took a step closer then, then took another two back, then closer again. She looked like she was trying to figure out something to say, what she should do, where to go from there. She had no idea where to start, but neither had Lena.

Kara was saved from saying anything when Lena yawned, bringing a hand to cover her mouth and letting her eyes fall close for a second. When she opened them again, the hero’s face had softened and she had a tiny smile that made Lena’s heart beat faster for a completely different reason.

“You should go to sleep.”

Lena almost said she wouldn’t be able to sleep – she never could so soon after a panic attack. However, she took one look at Kara’s almost gentle smile and decided to let her have that way out of the clearly uncomfortable conversation. Because it has been a year, and they were different people, and Lena didn’t even know who she was anymore, let alone anyone else around her.

“Okay. Yes, I will.”

So, Lena went on with her nightly routine while trying to ignore the elephant – or the superhero – in the room. She put the used mug inside the dishwasher, walked back to her room to grab her empty glass of water to fill it up and walked back to the kitchen. Kara hadn’t moved much, she had just leaned against the island counter and was staring at the marble with her brows furrowed and so intensely that, for a second, Lena thought she would burn the whole thing down by just staring at it. When Lena walked past her holding the full glass, she didn’t move and Lena didn’t say anything.

She wanted to.

Wanted to ask if she was going to stay there all night, staring at her counter and looking like she had no idea where she was. Wanted to ask if Kara still remembers where the extra blankets were. Wanted to ask her to leave at the same time she wanted to ask her to stay. And, in between her own confusion, Lena chose not to say a thing.

She put her glass down at the nightstand on top of the coaster, put her phone on the charger and walked to her bathroom so she could brush her teeth. While she added the toothpaste to her boring red toothbrush, Lena yawned again. All the emotions from her day were catching up on her. The deception with her project, with herself and humanity. Lex’s explosion. The panic attack. Kara randomly showing up. Kara’s lips touching hers. It felt like she had been awake for more than a day – more like a month – and all she wanted to do was crawl on her bed and rest. She knew sleep wouldn’t come easily, it never did these days, but she would try at the very least.

Lena fell on top of her bed like a dead weight. She didn’t bother changing clothes, closing the door or checking to see if Kara had left. The clothes made her feel comfortable, the bedroom could feel too small with the door closed and she didn’t want to know she was alone. So, she just took a deep breath, stared up at the ceiling and tried to think of ways she could force her body to sleep so she wouldn’t be able to think anymore.

Ironically, she fell asleep in less than a minute.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Lena woke up with the sound of heavy rain. There wasn’t thunder or lightning, but the rain was falling heavily outside from what she could hear. She took a deep breath, groaning a bit when she stretched, and then turned around to reach her phone. Her room was dark, mostly because of the curtains stopping any outside light to get in, and the glow from her phone burned her eyes for the first few seconds. She blinked the discomfort away before trying to focus on what she had to do that day.

She was halfway into remembering everything that had happened the day before when she noticed her blanket wasn’t its usual black color. Lena frowned, deciding she could concentrate on something else for a minute, and her arms fell to her sides so her fingers could investigate the material. It wasn’t as fluffy or soft as her usual blanket with its thousand something threadcount that had made it ridiculously expensive. Lena reached for her phone again so she could light the area around her and almost choked on nothing when she realized what had been used to protect her from the chill air of the night.

It was red and way heavier than it looked, and it certainly didn’t belong to her house. Supergirl’s cape. Every memory came crashing down on top of her leaving her breathless and lost. She remembered leaving that cape on her bathroom floor, wet and cold, and it made no sense to her that it was used as her personal mantle for the night. The only way for the cape to be covering her now instead of wetting her floor would be for Kara to have walked in after she fell asleep and put it on top of her.

That thought, that image, made Lena feel sorry again. She was sorry for many things. She had made a mistake, she was sorry, and she needed to say that before it was too late. Before Lex could move on with his plan, before he could cause even more damage than he already had, before something worse happened. And she needed to say she could never, ever, choose to hate Kara over loving her.

She needed to say that.

Lena almost jumped from her bed as she rushed to get changed and ready to go. It was early, way too early, and it was raining outside, but she would cross town to reach Kara’s apartment and she would apologize, she would tell her she was sorry and she would ask what the hell was the whole ordeal with the kiss from last night.

She hadn’t dreamed about that, had she? Kara kissed her. Kara really kissed her. Their lips had touched in a very non-friendly way. That hadn’t been a dream, had it?

No, Lena decided while putting on her trench coat without thinking too much about what she was doing. It hadn’t been a dream. She had said she loved Kara – loves, still, if she was going with the whole ‘being honest’ thing – and Kara had kissed her. Which could mean nothing, but also could mean everything, and Lena wasn’t about to ignore it for any longer. She would have to apologize, so she could add her own question into it.

She just needed to get to Kara’s place and...

Lena stopped in her tracks, almost slipping on the floor with how sudden she came to a stop, and only avoided screaming thanks to the way she was raised by Lillian. Kara was idly sitting on a stool by the island counter in the middle of her kitchen, drinking something from Lena’s old MIT mug while she read the morning journal. Like it was something common. Like she hadn’t just scared Lena to death. Like she belonged there.

Kara didn’t look up – not that she needed, Lena reasoned, she probably knew Lena was awake since before she had noticed it herself. All the blonde did was take another sip from the mug, turn the page and pursed her lips when she read something she didn’t like. The silence that fell above them was different from the night before. It was less heavy, Lena felt just as breathless, but it only lasted about ten seconds before Kara finally spoke.

“Are you going somewhere?”

She hadn’t look up yet and Lena felt only slightly disappointed. She missed the blue eyes, the small scar and the crinkle. She missed it more than she missed a simpler life without murdering brothers returning from the dead. Instead of replying right away, Lena glanced to her own outfit, to her purple trench coat, the jeans and boots, to the cape she had folded on top of her left forearm, and then, for some reason, she blushed. She felt ridiculous, for some reason.

“I...” Lena cleared her throat, bit her lips for a quick moment and then sighed when she looked back up. Kara was just lowering the mug again, and Lena watched her throat move up and down as she swallowed. Honesty, she tried to remember. “I was going to... try to find you.”

Somehow, saying she was going to try to find Kara sounded better than saying she was going to leave her apartment at 6 am on a Saturday when the sky was falling outside to cross town to beg for forgiveness. It wasn’t a lie, at least. And, apparently, it made Kara lose some of her determination to not look at her. Lena noticed how blue eyes moved to the side just for a second before focusing on the journal again and she found herself blushing again.

“Well... You found me.”

Yes, she did. Sitting in Lena’s kitchen, reading her journal and drinking her... whatever that was. Still there. Still around. Still... existing in Lena’s life as though they hadn’t avoided each other for almost a year. Well, Lena did most of the avoiding, she was going to admit that. She was also going to admit she had missed waking up and feeling hopeful.

And hope was all she could feel when her mouth started to move on its own accord, without her approval and faster than her brain could keep up. Hope that Kara would understand, that she would be able to find it in herself to forgive her when Lena had taken almost a year to be able to show her the same treatment.

“I have made a terrible mistake.” She watched through misty eyes because of the tears as Kara slowly let go of the mug so she could close her hand into a tight fist, and, even though her heart clenched and her mind started to race, Lena couldn’t stop talking. “I was hurt. I was so hurt. And... I thought I could get rid of the hurt.”

Kara put the paper down next and she took a deep breath before finally turning her head to look at her. Lena almost stopped there, she almost gave up, turned around, walked back to her room and allowed darkness to consume her. She didn’t, though. Not when Kara was looking at her like... like she didn’t hate her. Not when Kara was still there. So, instead, Lena tried to remember how warm the sun Kara brought to her life felt, let her fingers fiddle with the cape she was holding tightly and let every word slip from her lips without trying to contain them anymore.

“I thought that I knew better, that I could make the world a better place. But I was wrong,” Lena swallowed a sob back and tried to hold back her tears, although it was already a lost battle. “That hurt took me to a dark, dark path, where I was blind to what I was really doing, to what I had become. You were right. This whole time I became a villain, and then...” A lot of things had almost happened. And then she lost everything. And then she was proved wrong. And then Lex showed his true colors again. And then, and then, and then. And then nothing. “I’m not looking for forgiveness. I’m... I know what I said and I know what I did, but I am...” Sorry, so terribly sorry. “I am really hoping that you will believe me right now. Okay?”

“Lena.” The single word, her name, wasn’t said softly or gently, but it wasn’t a curse either.

Even so, Lena didn’t look up from where she was staring at the red cape and she didn’t try to stop talking either. “Lex is working with Leviathan, and they are going to...”

“Lena.”

“...use Obsidian to do something terrible...”

“Lena.”

“...using the system I made with my project. I didn’t know I was helping them, but I did. And now...”

“Lena.”

“...Now I want to help stop them, so...”

“For Rao’s sake.”

“...please, okay? I want to help stop Lex and Leviathan.”

“Are you done?”

It was the impatience she could hear in Kara’s voice that made her look up. She had expected Kara to be mad at her, but she wasn’t expecting the blonde to sound so... done. When she looked up, though, all tears rolling down her cheeks and sobs being barely contained, she saw that Kara had a tiny smirk on her lips. The blonde had turned her body to better look at her and she had now an arm draped at the back of the stool beside her while she rested her chin on her other hand.

For a second, a terrifying second, Lena thought it was over. Then, Kara sighed, pulled the stool back and gave it a soft pat. “Sit down, will you?”

Lena didn’t know if she should ask what was going on, scream or cry even more. Instead of doing any of those things, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath and tried to order her heart to stop beating so goddamn loud. When she opened her eyes again, Kara was filling a second mug with hot water and she could no longer hold a thousand myriad of emotions swirling inside.

She allowed herself to cry, then. Allowed a year of bottled-up emotions to escape and take over. Allowed the pain to be known. Allowed it all to be felt.

She was not expecting to feel Kara’s arms warmly embracing her into a tight hug. It didn’t stop her from resting her cheek on Kara’s shoulder or hugging her back just as hard. It also didn’t stop the tears, but that was okay. She knew she could trust Kara to have her back while she wasn’t strong enough to do it herself.

“We will figure it out,” Kara whispered on top of her head where she was resting her chin and Lena didn’t doubt for a second that she meant it.

“Do you hate me?” she asked lowly, not bothering to raise her voice.

“No,” Kara’s reply came fast and certain. “I don’t think that hating you would be easier than loving you either.”

And when Kara kissed the top of her head, Lena finally felt it. The fireworks she heard about in the romantic cliches Kara made her watch. She felt the fireworks and she felt the heat of the sun. She felt the tingles and the butterflies. She felt safe, maybe for the first time in her life.

“We will figure it out,” Kara whispered again and, this time, Lena knew she was talking more than Lex, and Leviathan and Obsidian, and every other mistake in between.

“We will figure it all out.”

[peralta-guaranteed]

hc of amy having a bad day and struggling with mac? say he’s very clingy or also upset

Guess what, this accidentally turned into a fic too. And it kinda shifted into 'Jake and Amy having a bad day and struggling with Mac for very different reasons'... I hope you still like it!

(read it on AO3)

It had become evident pretty early on that when Mac got sick, he gravitated towards Amy much more. Sure, Jake was also sometimes good for snotty cuddles and cough-soothing baths, but at some point he would call for his mom, or whine and spread his arms towards her with his legs kicking in frustration, and it said a lot about how much Jake has grown that he didn't even hesitate to hand him over without acting hurt. Maybe the blissful calm washing over Mac's face as soon as Amy was hugging him helped with that, too. It was such a wonderful thing to see after hours of crying, coughing, sneezing, whining and general sad pouting that only a Peralta-baby is capable of, Jake barely had the energy to worry about how it felt to be so blatantly rejected by his little boy.

It'd also become evident that Mac’s clingy phase had started a bit earlier than most of their parenting books prophesied. If Amy was home, he wanted to be on her lap, or in her arms, or wrapping his little arms around her leg as she tried to work in the kitchen. Jake got “NO!”ed and waved away far more often than he was asked for a hug himself, and again, it took a lot of newfound maturity not to let that get to him - and maybe he did not have enough of that yet, because it absolutely got to him in quieter moments.

(He knew it’d pass, like any phase in a toddler’s life passes at some point. Like the phase of Mac refusing anything but that one specific carrot puree passed, or the phase of him being unable to sleep anywhere except cuddled in between them, waking up as soon as they tried to carry him back to his own bed.)

The real trouble starts when both these situations collide.

-*-

Mac woke them up at 4:30 sharp, two hours before Amy’s first alarm, crying so hard it almost sounded like screaming. When Jake tiptoed into the nursery, he had to ignore the frustrated shouts of Nonono and Mamam that he was almost used to by now, to actually check what was wrong. Probably another ear infection, he realised after seeing the symptoms they’d become very familiar with during the last time they’d battled through one of those. They had to bring him to the doctor to be sure, but he already knew they were looking forward to at least two days of unsoothable crying and fussing.

He also knew that things would be hell for Amy.

In theory, it would make far more sense for him to call in sick to take care of Mac. As much as he loved his detective work, the simple fact that his wife outranked him (and thus outdid him in both salary and responsibilities, obviously) meant that if one of them had to take a few days off, it should be him first and foremost. In practice, however, Mac was going to be even more insufferable than just from his sickness if left alone with him at the moment. He was still crying for Amy as Jake lifted him out of the cot - he would be screaming bloody murder if she closed the door of the apartment behind her.

“Earache?” Amy asked already as Jake stepped back into the bedroom, Mac’s wailing lessening only slightly as he stretched his arms out toward her. She pulled him to her as Jake sighed and nodded.

“I think so. I’ll take him to the doc when they open.” He tried to offer, but he knew Amy would refuse it anyway.

“No, I can do it. I’ll call in sick - you get back to sleep for work.”

“I’ll try.” He sighed again as he dropped onto his back while Amy was sitting up to sway Mac, who’d actually quieted down into little sobs and sniffles in her arms. “I’m sorry, Ames.”

“It’s nobody’s fault he’s sick, especially not yours.”

“Yeah, but I wish I could help more. If he wasn’t- you know.”

“I know.” Amy let her free hand not holding Mac drift through Jake’s sleep-messy curls. She knew that, as much as he tried to pretend it wasn’t bothering him, he secretly hated the thought of his son rejecting him in any way, even if it was as nonsensical as a clingy toddler phase.

Luckily it didn’t take long for him to actually fall back asleep with her hand in his hair, and she carefully wiggled out of bed to let him rest while settling down with a still crying Mac in his nursery rocking chair.

-*-

They got to get ready together as they usually did in the morning, at least - even if Amy was only getting dressed to drive to the pediatrician and straight back again. She’d already called Holt and explained the situation before Jake handed her a mug of coffee, and Mac had been, at the least, not crying for the last ten minutes while sitting in his playpen in the living room. Maybe things wouldn’t be as bad as last time.

“I can pick up whatever the doc prescribes on my lunch break.” Jake smiled at her, ruefully, and she considered telling him again that it was okay, that she could do it - but something told her to keep her options of at least a few minutes not alone with a sick toddler open.

She desperately needed that option when lunchtime came around.

Doctor Maurice had quickly confirmed their suspicions and told her that there wasn’t much more they could do than wait it out, keep an eye on his fever and medicate with ibuprofen and warm compresses. Not that any of that had helped. When Mac wasn’t crying, he was screaming, and when he wasn’t screaming, he wanted to be close to her, but he couldn’t lie down without the pain getting worse, so simply plonking down on the couch with him was out of the question. She’d let him breastfeed far more than had been their norm now that he was slowly getting weaned, because it seemed to give him some relief at least, as well as quieting him for a blissful moment. But then the infection had travelled to his stomach as well, the same way it had last time, and he staunchly refused any and all food or milk. She’d seriously started considering foregoing the diapers completely and just letting him play in the empty bathtub so she could rinse him off from time to time, because five dirty diapers in under twenty minutes had to be some sort of new record.

So when Jake texted her he was on his way, with a picture of another box of ibuprofen and that herbal steam-bath mix that had helped last time, she sent a silent thank you prayer to anyone who wanted to listen. And she mumbled a not quite as silent thank you against Jake’s lips before he could even get his shoes off at the door.

“I got you one of the good bagel sandwiches for lunch, too.” He said as he hugged her and combed through her messy hair.

“I love you so much.” She hadn’t even realised that the only thing in her stomach so far was still the cup of coffee he’d made her this morning.

He grinned as he put the deli paper bag on the kitchen counter and went over to Mac’s playpen, to say hello to a currently only softly whining toddler smacking an innocent teddy against a pile of soft fabric blocks. Amy followed to wrap her arms around his waist from behind and rest her head against his back, taking in a few deep breaths of Jake, of something that didn’t smell of diarrhea, moist compresses, milk-hiccups and spit up.

“Also Holt gave me an hour for lunch, so if you want to take a nap or something-”

“God.” Amy groaned with pure happiness as Jake turned around in her embrace. “Marry me, Mr. Perfect.”

“Any place, any time, babe.” He kissed the crown of her head while returning her hug, sniffing her hair with a chuckle. “But maybe a shower first before the big day.”

“Rude.” Amy mumbled with her face pressed against his chest. “I rescind the proposal.”

His chuckle turned into a laugh at that, and he slowly unraveled her arms around him. “Nap first, then shower, how’s that sound? Then a bagel. I’ll give Mac his lunch.”

“Good luck with that.” She sighed before giving him another quick kiss and making a beeline for the bedroom.

-*-

She’d hopped straight from bed into the bathroom later, relishing in the feeling of the hot water washing away any aches left over after that much needed nap. Alas, when she stepped out of the oh-so-peaceful bathroom, she was met with a wall of sound.

Mac was wailing, hard, as Jake swayed him back and forth, holding another warm compress against his little ear, and trying to make soothing noises despite the shrill screams of No and MAMA! straight into his face.

“Shsshhshsh, hey, it’s okay, bud, it’s okay. I know you don’t like me much at the moment, but it’s gonna be okay, and mom is coming back soon-”

He stopped as he noticed her stepping into the room, giving her an apologetic smile as she took Mac from him. The wailing turned into regular crying at least, albeit still loud.

“I’m sorry babe - did he wake you up? He won’t eat either.”

“I set an alarm, actually. So you won’t be back late.” Amy sat down on the couch and pulled up her shirt (freshly changed after the shower, and god had that felt good as well). Mac latched onto her breast almost immediately, and a wonderful quiet settled across the room, only his little snuffling and suckling noises breaking through.

Jake’s face was unreadable before he turned towards the kitchen to plate her bagel, but that stoic, almost empty expression told her enough anyway. She grabbed his wrist as he set the plate down on the couch table, pulled softly until he sat down next to her, running her fingers through his hair again to comfort him.

“You know it’s not true, right?”

“Hm?” Jake looked up at her after watching Mac, who finally seemed to calm down completely in her arm, with a vacant look in his eyes.

“It’s not true that he doesn’t like you. He loves you just as much as me. It’s just a difficult phase.”

“I know that.” Jake’s attempt at a smile was still sad enough, and she wiped across the corner of it with the soft tip of her thumb.

“And I love you too. So much.”

“I know that.” And this new smile seemed to turn out right, at least. “You wanna re-marry me, after all.” He teased as he leant his head against her shoulder, looking down at Mac again with a much less forlorn expression.

“Hey, I rescinded that proposal!” She quipped back, falling into their usual banter easily now that she was rested enough and sure that Jake felt better as well. “But I might consider re-re-proposing again if you promise to pick up Polish for dinner.”

“I knew you only wanted me for all the free food delivery.”

“I also need you for other things.” Amy said as she sat up a bit straighter to finish Mac’s feeding, Jake’s head lifting off of her shoulder with the movement. “Like burping your kid. I really don’t want spit-up down this fresh shirt.”

“Aye aye, Sergeant.” Jake joked, already scrabbling for the burp cloth thrown over the armchair next to them and taking Mac out of her arms.

She watched him as he expertly settled the little, squirming bundle against his chest, the swaying and patting motion almost second nature by now, ducking his head down for a quick sniff of that perfect toddler hair scent. He’d have to leave for the precinct soon enough, and she certainly wasn’t looking forward to the rest of the afternoon probably being a reprise of her entire morning, and she didn’t even want to think about the night or next day to come.

Life with a toddler was unpredictable. Almost nothing was in her control anymore. But, as she’d learned over the years, as long as she was with the right people, she could handle anything. And Jake Peralta proved, again and again, that he was the right person for her.

[jjaeong]

The Heiress, & The Twelve. Act I.

Episode I: For I Am, Who I Think I Am Not.

Series: KPOP Girl Group: 이달의 소녀 (LOONA).

Pairing: OT12 & Mafia Heiress Female Reader.

Summary: Twelve girls are bound by a string of fate, with the priority of keeping a completely clueless girl alive who was unaware of the responsibility that would soon fall upon her shoulders. In which Y/L/N Y/N was the Heiress to a first ranking Mafia Family, and had to live in complete secrecy until the day of her return.

Heels clicked against the marbled tiles, a short haired woman adorned a simple white blouse with a plain black tie and a shining green gemstone pin, fitted dress pants, and a matching pair of boots made her way through the silence of the halls. Soon reaching the large mahogany doors that almost reached the ceiling, the woman didn't hesitate to push the doors open and pause in the middle of the spacious room. She bowed before announcing her arrival to the gray haired man that stood by the tall windows, back facing her as his eyes scanned the garden beyond the glass of his quarters.

"I've arrived, boss." the man inhaled deeply, raising a hand to signal the woman to be at ease and so she straightened back to her height, side-eyeing the machinery that surrounded the king sized bed, and dressers that were once filled with family portraits—now occupied by numerous paraphernalia for various medication. The sharp-eyed woman clenched her jaw, studying the man who kept his back turned to her yet she could almost hear his contemplation out loud.

It's gotten worse.

"Do you need me to call for the doctor, sir? I can ask Vivi to take charge until I've finished the task."

"No, I specifically called you for a reason, Haseul." the man turned his head slightly, just enough to make sure that he could see the young woman through his peripheral vision who was patiently awaiting for orders. His heart clenched as only for a moment, the sight of her reminded him of a younger version of herself, one that he had once found in the streets doing errands for another Family to make sure that she comes home with enough coins to feed a child that could barely even formulate a word—stating that she had found the child the abandoned, wandering the streets alone—to which the young girl then decided to claim as her own sister.

The old man then asked if they wanted to work for him instead, and with Haseul's dim eyes shining brightly at the offer—a wary expression quickly cast on her small, rugged features, stating that they'll be chased by those whom gave her orders. Soon enough, the old man took care of it himself, and the two scrawny children that sat in the dining hall with the boss were shoving their meals down their throats as if their lives depended on it—but the old man didn't mind, lips pulled up into a small smile as he sipped on his wine.

"How is your sister? She's doing well, I hope." Haseul's eyes stayed glued on the back of the boss' head, feeling slightly distressed at how it seemed as if the usual dismissive and busy man had time to even ask for such easily answered questions.

"She is, sir. She's attending classes at this very moment."

"I've been reminiscing the times where she'd barge in the meeting room with the loudest greeting.." the man chuckled to himself, sighing without noticing the pained expression that had now set on Haseul's face as she swallowed thickly.

"She's living well with the other five, but I'll make sure to ask her to drop by sometime.."

"And.. Yves?" Haseul's eyes snapped back to the boss, watching as he finally turned to face her with a distant look in his eyes.

"Sir—"

"I need to know if she's taking care of her." as he moved to take a seat, the old man slightly staggered—making Haseul reflexively take a step towards him but he quickly placed a hand on his desk, regaining his balance with a frustrated look on his face.

"Is she being taken care of?" Haseul could only nod in reply when he looked back at her, she could see the internal struggle that had been building up in his aged features as he slowly lowered himself on his chair. Inhaling deeply as he finally sat in peace, leaned back, staring across the room blankly.

"It won't be long until she comes home," the old man's eyes set on a picture frame that stood tall on his desk where the image of the familiar face of his eldest son, his wife and a baby girl smiling happily back at him, "will I ever be able to meet her? My own granddaughter.."

"Is that why you called for me?" Haseul dared to ask just when the boss started to look solemn, but though the boss was as strict as any boss can be—he was never unkind to those of which he raised as his own.

He did however, looked at Haseul displeasingly as if he's wasn't dying and this was just another day where the old man slightly questions if the girl really did grow up under his supervision.

"No, I have an order only I can give you—and I alone." and so the old man started speaking, pulling out a document from a drawer under his desk and laying it out on the surface for Haseul to read. As she read what had been written on the parchment, she felt her heart drop as she stared down at the contents—her own body practically refusing to listen her boss speak any further, vision blurring while the old man continued to tell her exactly what would be her final order from him. Haseul was numb the second she had left her boss' quarters, stiffly making her way down the hall with nothing but agony and dread washing over her as everything slowly sank in. If it wasn't for Vivi's arms that had quickly caught her once she'd rounded the corner, the short-haired woman would've broke down alone on the empty hall—but there they sat on the ground, Haseul's heartbreaking sobs echoing through the silence, Vivi's hushed whispers and protective arms wrapped around the girl, Haseul could almost feel the emptiness that was once her reality and had been completed because of the boss' compassion return.

"How long do we have until we come for her?" her eyes continued to stare down blankly at the name engraved on the tombstone, tearing her eyes away from the marble to look at the taller, dark haired woman with distinct sharp features—particularly, the slope of her jawline—that stood behind her. With her arms crossed and craned neck as she eyed Haseul with a focused gaze, the leader could only glance at the tombstone before taking a deep breath and tiredly walking past her to start leading them towards the cars.

"A year."

"A year!? What—she'll be our boss when she's barely through her junior year? What's the difference with just going right now!?" Haseul pinched the bridge of her nose as the other woman leaned over to express her dismay, making her stop on her tracks to look at the taller girl pleadingly.

"It's in the paper, Jinsol. You've all read it, please don't make me repeat the order that I've been assigned to do—if you want to press on this further, take it up with Kahei, please." Jinsol eyed the drained girl infront of her, shaking her head before reaching over to place a comforting hand on her shoulder in attempt to console the older girl.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound harsh it's just.. We're defenseless, it doesn't sit right—not having a real boss," Haseul nodded solemnly, failing to meet Jinsol's worried gaze, "it's not fair that he left you with it, even if everyone would catch a bullet for you if you commanded it. Haseul, it's.. Just not right." Jinsol tried her best to empathize with the girl, though lacking the ability of wording it out. However, Haseul felt the sincerity in her tone and just gave her a small smile in reply—already mentally preparing herself for a year of temporary boss until they're finally ready to get you.

"Everything will go as smoothly as it always has, Jinsol. We'll have our boss back before we know it."

"Yo!" you squinted your eyes at the sudden figure blocking you from the view of the sun, the familiar wide smile and crinkled eyes directed at you as she beamed—dare you'd say that though she was blocking the sun from behind her, it was as if she shined even brighter than the source itself.

"Yo.." she let out a hitch-pitched excited squeal before occupying the space next to you on the bleachers, popping open her water bottle as her eyes aimlessly scanned the open field, lingering on the blonde that ran at ease—leading everyone else behind her.

"What 'cha doing?" the girl next to you asked with a melody, leaning over to invade your personal space even further—her nose practically pressing up against your left cheek while you watched the students at the field. Maybe if you were still a freshmen and the older girl smothered you with affection like this as she usually did, you would've been all flustered and stumbling with your words. But it's been years since the school's precious Student Council Vice President—the "Sunshine Goddess" as they've repeatedly called her since she transferred—and "Just-who-even-is-that-girl?" Y/N's dating rumors had died down, the infatuation had subsided and now you were left with the most lovable and affectionate puppy that never missed a day on telling you that she loved you.

Oh what people would give to have Student Council Vice President Kim Jiwoo's love and affection.

"Skipping class." you answered monotonously, hearing a loud gasp coming from Jiwoo who quickly clasped her water bottle shut, rising from her spot to look down at you—completely horrified at your reply. She grabbed you by your hand that was subconsciously picking on the hem of your uniform's coat, making you look back up at her as the girl pouted at you.

"Yah! Ha Y/N, Take your classes more seriously! Do you have any idea what you could be missing in your class right now? What would you do if someone told you to solve calculus or you'll die!?"

"I'll ask if I can call a friend, and I'll see if my Jiwoo-unnie can solve it for me. If she can't—then I guess I'll just die. So much for having an Unnie that's a year level above mine.."

"Y/N!" Jiwoo really did look bothered by your joke, but she looked adorable even in her worried state which made you pull your hands up in surrender.

"I'm not skipping class, we have a substitute teacher for today and he asked us to finish the homework that was given yesterday—I already finished it so I asked if I could leave early and now I'm here."

"Hey! You two! What do you think you're doing up there!?" both your eyes snapped over to a flustered, slightly ragged breathing Kim Jungeun standing by the bottom of the steps, a hands on her hips with her sharp eyes squinted to look at you and Jiwoo through the sunlight. Jiwoo tugged on your hand that she'd been holding onto, shaking it as if to mimic a wave towards the Student Council President who only looked even more irritated than when she squinted her eyes at you two.

"Jungie! Y/N left class early to watch us do PE!"

"And you actually believe her!?" Jungeun shouted from her spot, her volume loud enough for a few of their classmates who were doing laps to glance at the three of you nosily. One student who glanced at you briefly made eye contact with Jiwoo, and you swear the girl was smiling the last time you saw her—but the paling of the students face made you think otherwise. Though when you looked back at Jiwoo, she was smiling warmly at you.

"I said I was sorry, Jungeun-unnie! Will you ever let that go?" you asked the older girl by the bottom of the steps, but she only raised a brow at you before shooting you a disapproving look and letting out a 'tsk', pointing at Jiwoo.

"Enabler! Back in the field, now!"

"But the teacher's not even back yet!"

"If she says twenty laps, then it's twenty! You've only done ten! Maybe if you even tried to stop yourself from being too excited talk to Y/N—you would've already doubled that!" Jungeun pointed at the field behind her, making Jiwoo groan and start mumbling under her breath as she glanced at you before making her way down the bleachers. The blonde president raised her chin as Jiwoo lowered her eyes right back at her, handing her the water bottle before reaching the field and breaking into a full sprint. You watched in awe how she had already reached a few remaining students across the field whom were all tired out of their minds, Jiwoo zoomed past them—eyes practically overflowing with irate.

"You should head home early, I heard it's going to rain heavily today." Jungeun said as she settled on Jiwoo's previous spot next to you, the girl scanning the side of your face—your eyes following Jiwoo around the field. You turned to look at Jungeun just as she popped the bottle open, taking a few mouthfuls of water before screwing it shut to place on the space between the two of you.

"I'm pretty sure that wherever you got that forecast from—is inaccurate," Jungeun reached behind her to pull the band off her ponytail, letting her blonde locks fall loosely on her shoulders as she looked at you with intrigue, "The skies answer to one person, and one person only. And that person's name is Ha Sooyoung."

"Ha Sooyoung? Sooyoung-unnie? Your older sister?" you almost felt offended when Jungeun cackled at the mention of your older sister, until you remembered that the year your sister was just about to graduate—she apparently got close enough with Jungeun and Jiwoo through her final stretch as Student Council President at the time, enough for her to ask the two girls to watch over you as she always had until you could only see each other at home with the older girl being in college.

"She never fails at that, always giving me an umbrella when it actually rains. Ever since we were kids! But today, she didn't give me an umbrella so.. Your forecast is wrong, Unnie."

"That Unnie.. Teaching you all the wrong things in life.." you snorted at the the teasing tone before looking up at the clear blue sky, to which Jungeun did the same.

"But maybe I should, actually. Sooyoung-unnie took a day off from her internship for some reason, maybe we could grab a bite to eat or spend some time together." Jungeun leaned over to bump her shoulder against yours, grinning at you when you gave her a look.

"You're going to be like this with us when we graduate too, aren't you Y/N? You're going to miss our affection~"

"What is this? Unnie! Please not you too!"

"Hey! How dare you two be cute without me!? I'm not taking no for an answer when I come over there and kiss you both!" Jiwoo, who had finally finished running her laps hurriedly ran up the bleachers at the sight of Jungeun's arms wrapped around you as she attempted to land a kiss your cheek. The three of you ended up tangled on the ground, laughing loudly just as the school bell in the background, signalling the dismissal of all classes. Jiwoo and Jungeun headed to the showers as you waited patiently by the entrance of the field, you fiddled with the strap of your backpack that hung on one of your shoulders, eyes stuck on the view of students rustling through the parking lot, watching a few cars start pulling out of the driveway and conversations pass by.

There was one group however, four girls—one of them with striking mint colored hair whom you swore was from the same year level as you, but in another class—stood in the middle of the busy lot, the shortest of the four whom you'd assume was a freshmen, oddly hanging out with a junior and two sophomores, seemed to be in a serious conversation with them. The dark haired girl with the fiercest eyes you've probably laid eyes on in your entire life furrowed her brows at the girl as the mint-haired girl looked just about ready to walk out of the conversation—but the one girl with wavy brown hair seemed to be trying to ease the tension by slowly repeating the same words that the shorter girl had, a wary smile set on her lips as her eyes moved from one girl to another.

And then her eyes landed on you.

You quickly tore your eyes away from the four, acting as if you haven't been watching them the entire time their conversation was slowly getting heated. Just as you were about ready to turn and just wait in front of the shower room, you felt a quick tug on your arm—finding the familiar blinding smile of Jiwoo directed at you as she wrapped her arms around one of your own. But when her eyes seemed to have followed where Jungeun seemed to have went, her smile slowly fell into a thin line which made you look over to Jungeun too, staring at her back as she conversed with the four girls from earlier that you had been caught looking at.

"It's finally time, huh?" Jiwoo mumbled to herself, not noticing that though she practically whispered it—you heard her loud and clear. Whatever it was that Jiwoo was talking about, your inner voice clashed against the feeling in your gut that does not want to know what the older girl meant. Your eyes scanned the four girls that crowded around Jungeun—who's composure looked as collected as ever—when your eyes caught the mint-haired girl's oddly concerned ones and the fury that seemed to radiate from the short-haired girl..

What was going on?

"Who are they?" you asked, the question coming out as a whisper which didn't easily slide by Jiwoo, who's grip slightly loosen around your arm—yet you felt the older girl rest a cheek on your shoulder, squishing them lightly as she eyed the five.

"Good kids, you'll know soon." the way Jiwoo suddenly switched moods made you turn to look at her, the girl just looked up at you from her position just when Jungeun made her way back to you. You and Jiwoo barely even got a reaction from the blonde when she started to head over to her red Tesla on the reserved parking space which was a perk when you were a Student Council President—Jiwoo's parking space as the Student Council Vice President next to hers remained just as empty as the first year she'd been appointed in the position.

Jungeun basically drove for the both of them anyways, and when you suggested to Jiwoo to just rent her spot to profit off of it she refused—stating that she already had someone in mind that could occupy the space. You thought she meant that person to be you, but when you teaser her about it—she had quickly declared that you were never getting a driver's license.

"You'll always have us to drive you around."

It was cute how she said 'us' as if she had a license herself, so you let it slide.

"What did those kids want with you?" Jungeun brought the car to life, glancing at you from the rearview mirror just as you locked your seatbelt on. She quickly followed suit, looking over to Jiwoo who seemed to still struggle with hers no matter how many times a day she had to put it on—but Jungeun wordlessly leaned over to do it herself like always, and gone were Jiwoo's knitted brows of concentration to be replaced by a big beaming smile, ready to embark on a journey of a lifetime.

"We're crashing at yours tonight." you raised a brow at Jungeun's dismissive tone, opening your mouth to ask her what she even meant but Jiwoo turned the music on to squeal loudly when “Colors” by some girl group named “Girl of the Month” boomed through the speakers. The whole ride to your house was just spent with Jiwoo belting out whatever played on the radio, and the combined silence between you and Jungeun—but hers was different, you knew that deep, contemplative look on Jungeun's face only appears every once in a while when you were all hanging out. Usually, the girl wouldn't dare mix her school life with the fun energy she had always seemed to be in whenever it was you three but..

This one felt different.

Even the way Jiwoo suddenly stopped singing when she realized how close you were to the view of your home—hell, even Jiwoo started to fidget on her seat.

"Do you think she remembers me?" Jiwoo looked down at her peach colored backpack in between her matching peach colored chucks, wiggling her feet in a jittery manner until she felt a hand rest on her knee. Jungeun shot her a knowing look, making sure Jiwoo saw her before she faced the road again, nodding firmly.

"I'm sure she does, but that's the last thing on everyone's minds right now."

"Right, yeah—of course! How weird of me." Jiwoo breathed out an awkward laugh before clearing her throat, glancing at your odd look directed towards her before she looked back intently at Jungeun. Jungeun side-eyed the girl, quickly getting flustered by how serious Jiwoo looked.

"I swear to whoever is up there that created this world, if she doesn't get down on one knee with a ring in her hand the moment we step foot in that house when you lock eyes—she's on my hit list."

"Kim Jiwoo! What are you even—"

"She's pretty, you're pretty. She's totally in love with you, you are in love with her even if you act like you're not but it's just because you're a Tsundere and we all love you for that—but I swear, Kim Jungeun I will combust—"

"Who's cars are parked outside my house?" your eyes almost popped out of their sockets at the sight of three expensive looking cars that was parked perfectly aligned just outside your garage. The second Jungeun pulls the car to a halt, you scrambled on your seat to unclasp your seat belt before grabbing your bag and pushing the door open. You could hear Jungeun calling for you in the background as you rushed to get inside your house—but not before eyeing the blue, yellow, and green cars that continued to intimidate you—you needed make sure that Sooyoung was okay. You pushed the front door open, racing over to the staircase and completely managing to miss a tall, dark haired woman by the entrance of the living room who lightly tapped on the fish tank—giggling to herself until she heard your heavy footsteps after the front door were rashly pushed open.

You were just about to walk past your room and barge into Sooyoung's when you collided against a figure that emerged from the open door of your own room, making you fall back on the ground with a thud as you stared at what seemed to be a pair of jean-clad knees. A large, yet soft looking hand was quickly outstretched in front of you, the impact had apparently managed to rattle you into silence helped you in taking the strangers hand with no hesitation for them to pull you up from the ground—eyes finally locking into yours.

"Y/N." was the only word she muttered, blinking at you as if she was nothing but a mere husk of the human she was supposed to be. The girl looked just about your age but you couldn't deny that she was way beyond just a simple girl, though the she looked almost robotic—it didn't stop her from scanning your face before eyeing you from head to toe in your shocked state, her mouth formed into an 'o' shape.

Her eyes were very pretty.

"You're very much prettier than the images Jiwoo-unnie sends us." and with that, the girl with the cat-like eyes' gaze softened as her lips pulled into a full smile. You didn't exactly know how to react at her statement, or even at the softest smile you've ever seen in your life—what is this girl even doing here?

And she just mentioned Jiwoo-unnie—what does she have to do with this?

"Kim Hyunjin! Jiwoo-unnie said the boss is—" a lower toned voice called from behind you, only to stop dead on her tracks with her eyes widened in shock.

"Here." the girl named Kim Hyunjin finished, peeking from behind you to grin at the light haired girl. You were almost certain that you had lost all your sense of comprehension, it was as if suddenly these strangers that stood in your halls that drove the expensive looking cars parked outside—looking exactly like those models in magazine covers that a child would want to grow up as, while those of the same age could only feel their innermost insecurities come crashing down on them at the sight—had completely shattered the peace that had once been in your home.

But if these were even Sooyoung's friends—would you even be shocked at the thought of a pretty girl being friends with other pretty girls?

"B-boss." the girl whom you've finally came to the conclusion that had distinctive European features bowed in greeting, you merely blinked at the sudden title that the girl had given you as an airy laugh was released behind you. Hyunjin's laugh then died down, with the girl that stayed in her position in front of you peeking as if awaiting for a signal of some sort.

"I.. No?"

"..No?" she asked in confusion at your attempt in trying to grasp the situation, her light brown hair swayed as she tilted her head at your words—to which you could only flush at before Hyunjin moved past you, grabbing her friend's shoulders with a teasing smile on her lips as she pulled her back to her height.

"She doesn't know yet," Hyunjin told the girl, an embarrassed look settling on her soft features to which she quickly waved her hands around as if to dismiss whatever that encounter was. Hyunjin giggled to then pat the girl's head, looking back at you with a knowing look on her face, "this is Jeon Heejin, my friend—my soul friend! She looks like a puppy doesn't she? I had the same thought the first time i met her—"

"Stop that!" the duo easily slipped into lighthearted bickering, to which you just stood there, watching as bewildered as ever with Hyunjin shaking her head and Heejin's small fists clenched—attempting to look even the slightest bit intimidating—only to look like an adorable child throwing a tantrum. The two quickly wrapped it up when you heard Sooyoung call you from downstairs, which then reminded you of why you rushed into the house in the first place so you slid past the two—making your way back down on the first floor with the duo following behind you, their bickering continues but now hushed as you almost had a heart attack when rounding the corner to find a tall, dark haired woman whom you'd assume was just about as old as Sooyoung, standing by the entrance of the living room.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" the woman merely spared you a glance, looking over to the two whom both nodded in confirmation. The woman looked back at you, almost in pity before she turned to enter the living room herself, not even saying a word to you.

But really, why are these girls in your house resembling every single campus crushes that every student had once seemed to fall for during their academic years?

"Unnie.. What the hell is going on?" you asked just as Sooyoung finally came into view, standing at the other end of the livingroom by one of the tall windows that she always made a point to keep the blinds drawn—but this time, she had them all shut, peeking through them as if to check the surroundings before locking eyes with you, sharp gaze quickly turning soft and her lips easing into what resembled a frown.

"Y/N—"

"Ha Y/N, please, have a seat." a woman your eyes barely passed by once you entered the room had called for your attention, she sat by one of the singular couches that had were supposed to face the television but instead, were all positioned as if in some kind of meeting room. It looked almost exactly like the position was in one of those films where there was a person of strength sitting on one end of the room, a few unoccupied chairs aligned by both sides to reach a specific chair that was meant to be for the person being questioned.

Your eyes watched Sooyoung take the seat between the sharp-eyed woman whom had a pondering look casted on her features as she started at you and the dark haired girl with the sharp jawline who now looked blank, making you break eye contact with the woman at the end of the room to acknowledge the orange-haired other woman that sat by her other side, looking almost serene as she sipped on her tea.

"Where are Kim Lip and Chuu?"

"Waiting for Gowon's team to arrive." the dark haired girl answered the now humming short-haired girl's question, watching as Hyunjin took the seat by your right, followed by Heejin sitting next to the dark haired girl on your left—eyeing everyone in the room before flashing you a small smile.

"Y/N?" the woman called for you attention yet again, an almost hesitant smile on her lips as she motioned for you to the seat in front of you, a few feet away from entirely facing her.

"Please." you swallowed sharply before settling down on the spot she hand kept insisting for you to occupy. Just before she could begin, approaching footsteps made you look up from the faces that were already present in the room, to feel the blood drain from your head down to your toes at the familiar sight of Kim Jungeun—now seated between Hyunjin and the orange-haired woman, adorning a luxurious looking velvet black suit with a blinding red pin contrasting her black tie. The pin had been intricately designed with nothing but red gemstones and a crescent-like symbol in on it's top with a golden silhouette of what resembled an owl in the middle of it.

"..Jungeun?" your friend turned to look up at you, a hint of apology in her eyes before she looked across from her to find the once blank looking member of the group—the woman with the sharp jawline—staring softly at Jungeun before she turned to look back at what you finally decided to point as..

Their Leader.

"Let's begin."

Hello~

I've decided to start my initial plan for this account on this fic. This was a series that had come to mind when I watched a rerun of Hitman Reborn and thought that yeah, mafia au's are pretty chill but the most I've read for the ones with this group was.. Are there even any? If so, I'd love to read them.

But initially, this had always been a reader included idea—almost shifted into a 2jin one (would probably write about as well when I can) but that would be a different universe compared to this one. And that plot would be fixed along with a handful of different groups but as I've said—I hope I can write it when I can.

This is only act one, probably.. made up of three acts? Twelve episodes each? When I finish the series, I'd probably make one shots of this universe—so many plans with such a short amount of time~

The plot would progress as it goes, minor ideas would make its way into major plots—nothing is of certain, who you would end up with is indefinite, the lore will be laid.. But the uncertainty that comes with this, when it will actually finish or just disappear into the drafts after five episodes or so..

I cannot guarantee even my own attachment to the plot, but it played well in my mind when I thought about it and so here I am. Though Congratulations on stumbling upon this fic, and I apologize if you ever become as immersed as I am with this.

Laters,

JJ.

> ovc: MUPLY (191108)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d-42rI4-gkA

[sugurus-slxt]

matching -oikawa

Type: fluff (sfw)

Warnings: an angry iwa-chan and mentions of an injury

Note: you are iwaizumi’s sister in this story, as well as a volleyball player

Hope you guys enjoy the story

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Saturday [4:15 p.m.]

You and Oikawa were practicing together at Aoba Johsai on the volleyball court. “Come on toss me another one,” you shouted from the end of the court. “Ok! But this is the last one for now you need to take a break,” Oikawa scolded. You rolled your eyes as your setter boyfriend tossed for you. You took off and spiked the ball with all your might. “Dammit,” you shouted in exasperation as you wiped the sweat from your forehead. “What are you getting on about? That was a perfectly good spike y/n. Here have some water.” He said passing you the bottle of water which you refused. “I’m fine ok. It’s just I need to go higher. My spikes are just so just so fricking average. Some ace I am,” you sighed whilst stooping down hanging you head. Oikawa just chuckled whilst stooping to your height and ruffling your hair, you just looked at him exhaustedly, “What are you laughing at shittykawa?”

Oikawa held his hand to his chest, pretending to be wounded, “Princess how could you? Hehe but … You’re just like Iwa-chan you know,” he said smirking. “Well he is my brother, but we are not the same ok he’s an actual ace and don’t call me princess,” you got up stretching ready for another round. “Whatever you say… princess,” he said winking at you. A deep blush spread across your cheeks. The both of you have been dating for over a year and he’s still able to make you this flustered. Trying to draw attention away from your flustered cheeks you pointed at him, “And who are you to tell me to take break when Haji had to drag you home multiple times from over practicing.” He smiled and shrugged his shoulder, “You got me there. “ You too just kind of stood there for a while just drinking in the tension that crowded the atmosphere.

“Any way! Let’s get back to it Toru,” you lightly tapped your face to regain your composure. “You know I can help you go higher, jump that is but it’s going to take a while,” he states blankly. “Wait really? “ You look at him, stars visible in your eyes. This was your chance to finally be better; you weren’t going to miss it. “Yes but this is going to be hard you know that I don’t train easy y/n,” he stated seriously. “I know and I can take it come on lets go. I can do this, gimme all you got pretty setter,” you declared barely realizing what you just said but it was too late. His serious nature disappeared in an instant, “Oho! You think I’m a pretty setter princess,” he chucked walking up to you and grabbing your hand, “Well a pretty setter prince for a pretty spiker princess,” he gently kissed your hand. You quickly pulled your hand away and ran to the other side off the court, “L-lets g-get to it,” you managed to stutter out. He smirked, “Ok. Let’s get to it,” he smirked while spinning the ball in his hands.

He’d spent at least half an hour explaining what he wanted you to try changing instance, pressure and pushing off. You went spike after spike, your body had already been tired earlier but you were determined to get this. Every time Oikawa would toss just a bit higher and eventually you were able to keep matching it. “Come on you have to do this one. It’s your peak point. If you get this you get this you succeed,” Oikawa shouted. He could see you were tired, you should have taken a break it’s already 8:30pm but he didn’t say anything. Sweat poured down your body but you were determined to get this one. “Here it comes y/n,” he shouted. It was as if time had slowed, you could see the ball and hear the ticking of the clock but as you were about to make contact your body faltered. You came crashing down; you tried to land on your two feet but it was useless.

One leg hit the ground but your knee bent resulting on you falling straight on your backside. Oikawa rushed to your side, “Y/n!! Are you ok? That’s it. Enough for today, I’m taking you home.” Your knee hurt but at the time you hadn’t paid much mind to it, you just wanted to get back up and get this last spike. “I’m fine Toru. Just one more toss. I need to get this,” you pleaded. “No! Absolutely not! We don’t even know if you hurt anything that was a pretty bad fall, “Oikawa tone was strict. The truth was inside he was worried sick, he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if something had happened to you. “I’m f-fine,” you attempted to get up but tears welled up in your eyes as an intense pain shot through your left knee. You fell back down and Oikawa had felt like his heart dropped. “P-princess,” he could barely speak. “T-toru don’t worry just give me a minute,” you weren’t sure who you were trying to convince yourself or him because the pain was searing. You didn’t want to worry him so you kept your tears at bay but it wouldn’t stop. Oikawa gently lifted you up bridal style, making sure not to move your leg around too much. Guilt flooded him but he had to put that aside right now he had to get you to the hospital.

“Toru where…,” he cut you off. “I’m taking you to the hospital to make sure it isn’t anything serious,” he didn’t even look down at you. He just kept walking to the nearest hospital in the area. You knew Toru, he was definitely overthinking things but you didn’t know what to say so you just wrapped your arms around him and nuzzled your face into his neck. The pain was nowhere easing up but you found some comfort in his arms. You both went down the street in dead silences. It was quite dark and the only thing lighting the way was the pale glow of street lights on a moonless night. It hadn’t taken long for you to get to the hospital but Oikawa was still quiet as he handed you over to the nurses. He sat in the chair with his hands in his head as he silently sobbed waiting to find out what happened. Meanwhile, the doctors asked you questions and diagnosed what was wrong with you. After about two hours you were relieved to hear it was just a torn ACL (Anterior Cruciate Ligament Tear). The bad news is that you couldn’t play volleyball for 3 months and couldn’t go back into full swing until 6 months but if you take care of it you’d be fine. But there was always going to be a higher chance of your knee being damaged again.

The doctors finally let Toru in, you opened your arms for a hug from him, “Come here my knight and shining prince in armor,” you smiled at him hoping to ease his mind. He ran to you and immediately started sobbing, “Princess, I’m so sorry. I knew that you were tired and I didn’t say anything. Now you can’t play volleyball and it’s all my fault. I-I just wanted to help you. I felt like you finally just needed me and I thought you could do it I’m sorry, “he continued to rant on. “Hey! Hey! Hey! This isn’t your fault Toru. I continued even though I knew I should have stopped. I was just so obsessed with being better, I didn’t think about my well-being so don’t you dare blame yourself,” you gave him a bright smile as you held his face wiping his tears.

He slowly leaned into you and kissed you softly. Sort of as to say I’m here with you, he pulled away and looked at you as he stroked the side of your face, “I’m still sorry even if you say it wasn’t my fault. I should have noticed and taken care of you ok. I love you. You are my everything, my world, my princess and I should have paid more attention.” You were almost at a loss for words, “I love you too and I won’t argue because you have more problems to deal with babe than arguing over this with me.” Oikawa looked puzzled but he’d find out soon enough. “Anyways look we’re matching,” you show him a knee brace that matches his own and smile. “Princess that’s not much to smile about but yes matching,” he couldn’t help but smile at you as he wrapped his hand around you and laid you on his chest. You both enjoyed each other’s company in silence until the door opened with a loud slam, “Shittykawa I’m gonna kill you! What’d you do to my sister? Now she’s got your stupid overworking habit,” Iwaizumi shouted with a look that could send someone running without wanting to stop. “I-Iwa-chan, let’s just talk about this for a second,” Oikawa held his hands up in defense but not for long as he bolted out the door Iwaizumi chasing after him at full speed. All you could do is sit there and chuckle.

________________________________________________________________HEY! HEY! HEY! I hope you enjoyed the story but I do apologise for any errors or inaccuracy. Feel free to leave constructive criticism or requests.

If you liked my work maybe you might want to buy me a coffee?

[chachkayes]

You Matter To Me - Mer x Hayes

Sooooooo..... @herrera-n-hayes gave me an idea good enough to make a Bad Idea part 2, so here’s that. The Waitress title theme is going to probably run rampant on our pages for the next little while, so get excited for that. Here is the link to part one, titled after the Waitress cheating anthem “Bad Idea” (obviously). I’m really proud of how this fic turned out, and I hope you all enjoy!

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Cormac Hayes rested his eyes as the woman lying next to him slept peacefully. He listened to the quiet sounds of her breathing, as she rid herself of the day’s hardships. Her arm and head lay still on his chest, while his arm was wrapped loosely around her waist. He tried his best to shut off his mind and enjoy the peace and quiet, but his brain couldn’t stop racing. He couldn’t pinpoint what exactly he was thinking or feeling, but he couldn’t stop it. After 15 minutes of laying in complete silence and happiness, Cormac finally fell asleep too. For 30 minutes, he and Meredith slept peacefully in each other’s arms. And for 30 minutes, everything that was wrong in the world had seemingly been put on pause. Everything finally felt right for the first time in a very long time. That, of course, was until Andrew DeLuca walked into the very same on-call room where Meredith and Cormac slept.

Andrew had just finished helping his sister in her office, seemingly the only other doctor in the hospital who didn’t hate him after word spread quickly about what he’d said to Meredith. She certainly wasn’t very impressed with him, but she couldn’t hate her baby brother. He was on-call that night, and figured it would be best if he got a nap in, since he was tired and knew to sleep whenever he could. What he wasn’t prepared for, was to walk into the on-call room and be met with 2 scrub tops on the floor, accompanied by Cormac and Meredith fast asleep on each other on the bed nearby.

Cormac was woken up by the sound of the doorknob twisting, but he kept his eyes firmly shut, praying that the person about to walk in was anyone other than Andrew. Meredith was unroused by the sound. Luck clearly wasn’t going to stay on Meredith and Cormac’s side today, as the door slammed shut and was followed by a very loud and angry “What. The. Hell.” From none other than Andrew DeLuca. ‘Damnit.’ Cormac thought to himself as he opened his eyes. He glanced over at Meredith for a moment, to see her wide awake, staring at Andrew.  

Andrew was pissed – and Cormac made the unfortunate decision to stand up and put his scrub top on. He began to say something to try and diffuse the situation so Meredith wouldn’t get hurt, but before he could even get a word in, Andrew grabbed Cormac, slammed him into a wall and punched him – hard. “Andrew, please, no.” Cormac could hear Meredith say through tears. It seemed like Andrew was getting ready for Cormac to hit him back, but that never happened. He refused to become violent, especially in front of an already distraught Meredith. “Please, leave him alone.” She cried. As Andrew continued to punch Cormac, his mind wasn’t focused on defending himself, the only person he was concerned about was Meredith, and as long as Andrew wasn’t punching her, he would take it until he could get a word in and get away. His heart broke more and more as Meredith got up, sobbing while putting her scrub top on.

Cormac finally threw his hands up in surrender as Andrew threw another punch and cursed in Italian. The more he got hit, the worse Meredith’s cries got. He couldn’t stand hearing her in so much pain, and as much as he wanted to put the blame on himself, he just knew that would cause more punching and hurt Meredith even more. “Listen, pal,” Cormac started weakly, before he was rudely cut off. “Don’t you even think about calling me pal right now.” Cormac rolled his eyes. “Shut up, seriously.” He rebutted. “She was upset, rightfully so, and I followed her in here to make sure she was okay. She just used me for some temporary pain relief, that’s all. It didn’t mean anything.” Slowly, Andrew backed off. Cormac finally looked over to Meredith clutching her chest, bordering on hyperventilating. That one look to her was enough to set Andrew off again, and another punch flew. Cormac closed his eyes, bracing himself for whatever was about to happen, until he heard Meredith grunt and grab Andrew by the collar, flinging him away from Cormac and slamming him up against another wall. “Get the hell off of him!” She yelled through tears. Cormac took this as his chance to get out of there, but he stayed close by in the supply closet next door, in case Meredith needed him.

“You have no right to be so upset, Meredith. Seems to me like you’re actually really good at getting over people pretty fast.” Andrew glared at the woman in front of him, and she glared back. “I’m only saying this once, so listen up. You were the first man I ever trusted enough to love again after Derek, and that’s saying something. I never thought I’d ever in a million years feel love for someone again, or say I love you to another man. But YOU messed that up. YOU told me you felt inferior to Derek. Then to take some space. Then, that you didn’t love me or need me. And yet, I got back together with you. But then you told me to forget about Derek. You don’t get to tell me I don’t have a right to be upset, and you certainly don’t get to determine how ‘good I am at getting over people.’ That’s not up for you to decide. Yes, I was able to forget about you for the whole 2 hours we were in here. I wanted to. That was all I wanted to do, was to forget about you for a little while. And it worked. But I could NEVER forget about Derek. He was the love of my life, and is the father of my children. When you said that, when you told me to forget about him, you broke me. You broke my heart. I don’t regret a single thing I did in this room with Hayes, and I refuse to apologize for how I chose to repair what you broke. So, we’re done. Stay the hell away from me, and from Hayes. I don’t want to hear your apology when you finally come to your senses.” Without missing a beat, Meredith turned around, exiting the on-call room and leaving Andrew standing there, stunned.

As she left the on-call room, her thoughts immediately drifted to Cormac. She frantically searched the hallways trying to find him, but it didn’t take long before she found him looking for gauze in the supply room next door. He caught her gaze as she slowly entered the room, tears in her eyes as she looked at him bleeding. “I… I’m sorry. I’m okay, I promise.” He told her as Meredith closed the door behind her, grabbing some gauze off the shelf. “No, you’re not okay, Hayes. You’re bleeding and you’ve got a nasty black eye forming. And don’t say sorry, you didn’t do anything wrong.” She reassured him as she placed the gauze on his face, causing him to wince. “Alright, come with me.” She said, holding out her hand. “Where are we going?” He asked, confused. “To the ER, to get you stitched up and to get some ice on that eye.” He avoided grabbing her hand but started walking towards the door with her following very quickly behind. When they reached the ER, Bailey and Link looked at Cormac in horror. “Dr. Hayes, what the hell happened?” Bailey called out to her chief of pediatric surgery. “DeLuca.” Meredith responded. Her eyes were bright red, stained from tears. Bailey didn’t have to ask any further questions to figure out what had happened. “Page Andrew DeLuca to my office right now.” Bailey said as she walked quickly away, looking back to Link. He nodded back at Bailey, then looked over to Meredith. “Hey, Mer, need a hand?” He asked. “Thanks, Link – but I’ve got it.” She called back to him as she closed the door to the previously empty trauma room.

Meredith immediately went to work, grabbing a suture kit and handing Cormac an ice pack to put on his eye.

“You weren’t temporary pain relief.” Meredith finally spoke up, after what felt like an eternity of silence. “What?” Cormac asked her, confused. “You told Andrew that I just used you for temporary pain relief, you said it meant nothing, but that’s not true.” They locked eyes, neither one of them wanting to take their gaze off each other. “Then what was it?” He said, eyes still locked with hers. “It was something that’s been a long time coming. You and I both know that. You did so much more for me than just help me forget about him for a few hours. You made me feel safe, beautiful, happy, and peaceful. You reminded me of what I deserve. You saved me from myself. You’re not just some rebound, or temporary pain relief. You matter too much to me for you to be anything other than someone I genuinely want to be with. Our time together meant everything to me, Hayes. You’re everything I never knew I needed.” Meredith finished, placing a small kiss on his lips. “When he was hitting me, I hardly even felt it. All I could focus on was the sound of your cries. Hearing you sob the way you did broke me more than DeLuca ever could have.” Cormac told her as Meredith’s hand rested on his cheek. He was lucky that he came out of everything relatively unscathed, aside from the multiple cuts on his face, the slight pain in his jaw and the black eye that was quickly forming. It definitely could’ve been much worse. A tear ran down Meredith’s face as they stared at each other, and Cormac wiped it away with his thumb. “Like I told you, you matter to me. And it broke me to pieces, seeing you being hurt.” She said.

“You matter to me, too.” He told her. “By the way,” He continued, a smirk forming on his face. “I heard you yelling at DeLuca from the supply closet. Gotta say, Grey – it was hot.” Meredith began laughing through her tears, and with her hands placed at the back of his neck, she kissed him. He smiled and laughed into the kiss as well, and his arms wrapped around her body, resting on her lower back. They pulled away from the kiss and Meredith immediately pulled him in tightly for a hug. When they finally let go of each other after who-knows-how-long, Meredith leaned back into Cormac’s grasp and grabbed one of his hands that was sitting on her back. She smiled as she grabbed the ice pack off the bed beside Cormac and placed it in his hand. “Alright, Dr. Hayes. Keep that ice on your eye. Wouldn’t want that handsome face of yours to get too bruised up.” She winked at him. Cormac smiled at the woman in front of him who was teasing and complimenting him at the same time. “God, how am I going to explain this one to my boys?” He said, lightening the mood once more, causing the both of them to laugh with each other about the situation, happy to just be happy together again.

[silwenworld]

Sudoku - Chapter 2

Summary: Nicholas Rush was like one, giant, brain-damaging sudoku which when one thought to have all figured out changed all the variables, leaving them in no better position when they had started, but when an accident during exploration of the newest part of the ship has dire consequences for the scientist the rest will have to do their best to help the man they had all thought to be an emotionless bastard. [Chapter 1] [AO3] Drifting in nothingness, not knowing who or where he was, was a weird, if not unsettling feeling. He was a person, a male, a... husband? Or at least he had been, once. Not anymore. Or maybe?

He wished he could understand what was happening to him.

Nick. It's not real.

Wasn't it?

*

Colonel Everett Young swept his hand over his tired eyes, sighing as he lowered himself into the chair. Rush had been in and out of consciousness for the last couple of days, and one could only guess how he would act each time. It wasn't constant - and TJ couldn't explain what was happening to the man even if she wanted to. She was just as lost as the Colonel.

One could think that being stranded on an alien ship in a faraway and foreign galaxy was the worst thing that could happen to a person. Young could believe that it had been what everyone had thought, at least at first, but it seemed that with every passing day, the universe made its sole purpose of proving to them that they had been, in fact, very wrong. In the latest couple of days, the Colonel grew to realise that losing one's mind was, in fact, the worst thing that could happen - Not being left for dead on an unknown planet, experimented on by the aliens, nor losing someone who you had probably loved. No.

Watching Rush was painful, to say the least. When awake, he would either be confused, angry or scared. Young had seen how fear had looked like in the other man's eyes, but this time, it was eternally different. It was a deep and profound dread of not knowing who or where one was and so unfitting for Rush that it left Young deeply unsettled every time it had happened.

There had been days when the scientists didn't recognise any of them - not Young, not TJ, Eli, or even Chloe. The only person he would have vaguely responded and actively had searched for had been his wife, whom - at least to Colonel's knowledge - had been dead for quite some time, which was problematic on a whole different level. But now, as he watched Rush flinch in his sleep, Young didn't know which was worse - that or when the man woke up with no recognition at all.

"Get your hands off me!"

"What's going on? Stay the hell away!"

Everett could feel the chill going down his body at the memory of those empty and scared eyes, so unlike Rush's that they could belong to a different person.

"What's happening to me?"

He shook his head. It was a good thing that Rush lost consciousness even quicker after those episodes than the other ones. They were disturbing but rarer as time went by, and they still didn't know why.

It almost looked as if...

No.

"I'm doctor Nicholas Rush. I'm a math teacher, not a soldier or any of that stupid stuff, and I don't know any of you. Have you seen Gloria?"

Young swallowed. If Rush's brain was resetting itself, one could only hope it would come on the right track with time. But knowing their luck, it would be anything but that simple.

"Don't hit me!"

Young just hoped he would be wrong for all their sake.

"Um, I think I hit my head or something? I hate to be a bother..."

He sighed again and looked down at the time on his wristwatch. If the pattern had been any clue at all, Rush should be waking up in about three minutes. But would it be Rush or the man who Young didn't recognise at all?

*

Eli dried his sweaty palms against his trousers as he walked to his destination. Truth be told, he had avoided the infirmary like the plague. That one time when Rush had woken up screaming and trashing still hunted his dreams, but with each passing day, Eli felt more and more guilty. And if Colonel Young, whose dislike for the Scotsman was no secret, could sit with the man more times than not, then so could he.

And honestly, he missed Rush, even if he couldn't bring himself to say it out loud. It had been awfully quiet without the man, and even Brody had remarked the other day that not hearing Rush's complaints had been just weird. He took a deep breath and shook his shoulders. He was no Rocky, but it felt as if going to the ring nevertheless. Exhaling, he hit the button, squinting his eyes as the door opened.

The first thing that Eli noticed when walking in was a tense atmosphere. There was just something in the air that spoke of tension, thick enough to cut it with a knife, slowly suffocating and making him absently reach to the collar of his hoodie. Then there were voices - raised and almost close to shouting. Or at least one was; the other sounded a lot calmer as if trying to pacify the first. It was easy to distinguish which belonged to whom just by the tone alone.

Rush was awake. And judging by what Eli was hearing, he wasn't pleased, but he sounded so much like his old-self that Eli felt his heart beating faster with hope. Hope that extinguished quickly like a fragile flame as soon as he got closer.

"Rush, calm down," Colonel Young said in a tone suggesting that it hadn't been for the first time. He held his arms outstretched, palms open, trying to look as unthreateningly as possible.

"Calm down? I am calm!" The scientist shouted, clearly agitated. "It's you who seems not to understand the simple aspect of question and answer!"

"I've already answered your question."

"Well, you're wrong! But what else could I expect!"

Eli didn't understand what was going on in the slightest, but even if it was the first time since days that Rush had looked and more or less acted like himself, but judging by Colonel's posture, something was still very seriously wrong.

"Um," Eli took a shaky step forward, waving awkwardly in greeting, hoping to defuse the tense atmosphere, even if a little. "Isn't it the right time?"

Rush's eyes darted towards him, and Eli could have wept at the recognition visible in them.

"Tell him, Mr Wallace," Rush said, which made him even more confused.

"Tell what?"

"She's not here, Rush," Young interrupted.

"I didn't ask you!" He snapped.

"Guys? What should I tell?" Now, Eli knew that something was definitely wrong. He didn't like the way Rush looked now. His skin became sickly grey in a matter of seconds, his eyes glistening.

"That she's on the ship!" Rush shouted over Young protests, his gaze fixed pleadingly on Eli, his hands twisted in the sheets to the point there were completely white.

"Who?"

"You know who - Gloria! My wife!"

What?

"Rush - "The Colonel tried once again, taking a step forward and putting his hand on the man's shoulder, which seemed to be a mistake.

"Don't 'Rush' me!" the scientist threw Young's hand away, almost backing against the head of the bed. "I have evident memories of coming to this ship with my wife, so stop fucking around!"

Eli could only stare, lost for words as the Colonel tried to pacify Rush without simply knocking him over the head. This was bad. No, worse - just what exactly did it mean?

And Rush was getting paler by the second and not calmer at all. Young seemed to notice it also because he clutched Rush by the shoulders, ignoring the other man's protests.

"Eli, get TJ," he said.

"Don't you dare -" Rush tried to get himself free.

"Eli. Now," the Colonel repeated, not taking his eyes off Rush. Eli nodded, and with a final distressed look over his shoulder, he ran.

Young's focus was eternally on the scientist who tried to wrestle himself free, but his struggles became weaker with every second. The Colonel felt like shouting and punching something, and this time, surprisingly, it wasn't the Scotsman. Everett should have sensed that Rush wasn't alright, but when the man had woken up and recognised him, Young had felt so relieved that it took him a moment to notice the signs. It hadn't taken long for the scientist to complain about the music that only he could have heard and then to insist that there should have been someone else in the room too. The noise Young could ignore, but the indication that one was insisting on the fact that his dead wife wasn't, in fact, dead, he could not.

"Let go of me, Colonel."

"You're not well, Rush."

"Why the hell are you lying?!"

There was sweat on the man's braw that hadn't been there before, and his skin looked grey, almost ashen.

"I know what I know. What have you done to her?!" The man struggled again.

"I did nothing -"

"If you harmed her -"

"Rush!"

"You were speaking with her, for God's sake! I know she's here!" the man's voice hitched with desperation, breaking at the last word, similar to a broken sob.

That gave Young a pause. He knew he didn't, so why did Rush remembered something that clearly hadn't happened? He didn't have time to ponder about it nor answer because the scientist suddenly doubled over, clutching his head and groaning as the Colonel tightened his grip around his shoulders, almost taking all his weight.

"Rush? Talk to me," Young tried to catch the man's attention, but it didn't seem to work.

"It's louder," the scientist gritted through his teeth.

"What is?"

"The music, It's - God," Rush groaned louder, bitting on his tongue to stop himself from shouting as he sagged against the Colonel.

Where the hell was TJ?

"Come on, stay with me, genius. Come on, Rush."

"It's not your head -" the man mumbled, but suddenly he gagged, and Young had only a split second to turn him to the side, preventing him from throwing up all over the bed.

"TJ!" He shouted. How could it get so bad in such a short time?!

"Coming!" Tamara appeared beside him, quickly asserting Rush's condition with a concerned frown. She had to dodge the man's arm that somehow broke free of the Colonel's hold.

"Sedate him," Young met her eyes over Rush's shoulder, making it an order. Rush was bearly coherent now, groaning in pain yet still straining against Young's attempts to hold him down.

"Gloria..." The word was bearly audible, but Young had heard it enough times already to recognise the meaning behind it. His face hardened.

"TJ. Now."

She nodded, and when Rush sagged in his hold minutes after the injection, Young took a step back and dragged a hand through his hair.

"What the hell was that?"

Oh. He nearly forgot about Eli. The younger man was staring at them with unease in his eyes, arms close to the chest as if trying to separate the scene in front of his eyes from himself. Young dipped his head and sighed.

"That's what I would like to know. TJ?"

He turned back to her, waiting for her reply. The frown on her face grew deeper as she listened to Rush's heart through the stethoscope. Her fingers never leaving the spot on the man's neck.

"His heart rate is all over the place," she mumbled. "Eli, could you bring me the pressure gauge? It's on one of the tables over there."

"How is he?" He asked as Eli ran where directed. TJ removed the stethoscope from her ears and proceeded to fill a new syringe.

"Not good, but that's not a surprise... How long did it take?"

"He woke up just fine. Knew where and who he was and recognised me."

She glanced up.

"That's a new one."

"Yeah. He sees his wife or thinks she's here on the ship. One of the two," he added, wearily.

TJ stilled before administrating the medicine, frowning at Young. "Isn't his wife...?"

"Dead. Yes," Young confirmed, glancing down at the now unconscious scientist. "As far as I know."

She nodded and proceeded to treat her patient, and Young closed his eyes briefly. God, he needed a drink.

"Sir, you said that he appeared fine after waking up," TJ started after covering Rush with a blanket, making Young open his eyes. "When did it got worse?"

Young frowned, thinking hard. It was hard to pinpoint the exact moment. They had been shouting, and then Rush almost doubled over, but it couldn't have happened so quickly...

"The more the Colonel insisted Rush was mistaken, the worse he looked," Eli spoke slowly, and all head turned towards him.

"What do you mean?" Young asked.

Eli handed TJ the pressure gauge and scratched his head. "When you insisted on his wife not being here -"

"Well, she's not."

"Yeah, but it seemed to make him worse."

Young turned to Tamara.

"TJ?"

"I need to scan his head," she said, not looking up. "You got that ancient device working? The one that probably works like MRI?"

"Yeah, I think it works," Eli nodded. "You want me to get it?"

"Please."

"I don't think I like the look on your face, lieutenant," Young waited until Eli had left, but there was no denying that something didn't sit well with Tamara.

"I think it would be better if I was the one he wakes up to next time, sir," she started. "There's something I need to confirm."

Young searched her face for any clues but found it impossible to find any. She looked tired, though, and it had him wondering how bad he must be looking. He glanced back at Rush. Thankfully, when sedated, he didn't look in pain.

"All right," Young nodded. "Keep me posted."

*

It wasn't the violin this time, but the soft sound produced by a precise and gentle touch of piano keys. He felt as if he could stay just like that - lost in the sound. There was no pain nor confusion in here, just darkness that embraced him from every corner yet strangely soothing.

Rush remembered as he played those soft tunes. He wasn't the best player, a moderately good on the best of days, but Gloria liked to listen to him playing. It relaxed her, drove her worries away, and he was more than willing to do just that for her. No one else had heard him playing. Never. Just her - only for her.

Yet this time, he knew it wasn't his fingers gliding across the keys. His arms lay limply by his sides, unmoving, but the music was still playing. He looked around, but there was just nothing out there. He was alone. So, where did the sound come from? And why did it feel like somebody was caressing his hair?

Come on, Nick. Wake up.

The touch became firmer, and the sound of the piano morphed into sharp violin sounds, too loud to be comfortable. He winced at the sudden stab of pain behind his left eyeball and almost missed the darkness changing to grey smoke. Slowly, he forced his eyes open. He didn't succeed, not at first as his eyelids felt heavy, and the light that struck him when they lifted forced them back down. It took a couple of tries and then some to get the room to focus, but it wasn't hard to guess where he was - Destiny's infirmary had a specific pattern to its ceiling.

His mind felt groggy, but it was no surprise, considering the last thing he remembered was the feeling of the anaesthetic entering his system. Slowly, Rush turned his head to the side and smiled slightly.

"Hey," his voice was hoarse from the drugs and vomiting, but it still won him a smile back from the person sitting beside him—the same one who was still stroking his head as he leaned into the touch.

"Hey yourself," she answered tenderly and scooted closer, kissing his hand. "You had me worried."

"Sorry. Ugh," moving hadn't been the right choice, it seemed, as his whole body felt stiff and painful. He wondered if it was due to being thrown across the room or staying too long in bed. Maybe both.

It all felt like a dream.

"Don't move, or you'll tear the stitches," she gently pushed him back against the hard mattress, and he went down without protest. He could never say no to her. "You know it almost feels like payback," she added, and he raised an eyebrow. "You stayed by my side so many times that now it's my turn, but please, don't make it a habit."

"It's not intentional."

"And antagonising the colonel?"

"Still, not intentional."

She smiled slightly at that and stood up from the chair, a few blond locks escaped her bun, and he had to resist the urge to tuck it back behind her ear.

"I'm going to get Lt. Johansen," she bent down and kissed him gently on the lips that he returned without hesitation. "Don't rush it," she warned, and he grinned at the pun.

He watched her walk away, and the feeling he got at the sight didn't sit well with him at all. It was as if something wasn't as it should be, and a profound fear twisted his gut.

"Gloria?" she turned around with question in her eyes. "I love you, you know that?"

"Of course I do. Rest. I love you too."

Rush didn't want to close his eyes. He wanted to see her come back like he wasn't entirely sure she would, but he didn't know what could prompt such fear. He could hear the soft hum of Destiny's engines, comforting him at the same time as her lights blinded him and before he knew it, his eyes closed. When they opened, it wasn't Gloria leaning over him but Lt. Johansen, and he couldn't help but look around, searching.

"How are you feeling?" the medic asked, and he rubbed his eyes.

"Is the Colonel here?"

Johansen's mouth twitched. "No."

""Then like shit."

The woman smiled. "I can imagine. Any double vision?"

"A little blurry but not double. No."

"We really need to get you new glasses somehow," she admitted. "It's good to see you awake and coherent, to be honest."

He smiled slightly, trying to relax, but somehow he found it very hard.

"Yeah, so my wife told me," he frowned. "What's that face for, lieutenant?" he asked when spotting TJ expression. Was it something he had said? But she shook her head and pulled out her flashlight.

"Can you follow the flashlight for me? Only with your eyes, keep your head straight."

"All right."

"Let me know if you get double vision at any point."

He nodded and let her examine him while not being able to shake the feeling of wrongness that rolled off her in waves. When she got to the halfway point into his cranial nerves examination, he grew impatient.

"Lieutenant, stop betting around the bush and tell me what's going on."

She stopped in the middle of checking his facial muscles strength and looked for something in his eyes. Rush didn't know what it was or had she found it, but then she sat back in the chair and leaned towards him.

"What is the last thing you remember?"

"You plunging a syringe into my arm, but somehow I got a feeling it's not what you're asking about." Rush narrowed his eyes. His head began to throb slightly, not hard enough to be a bother but still not eternally possible to ignore, but he focused on TJ that fidgeted slightly in her seat. "Ugh, a robotic wire throwing me against a wall... I think I sat on the chair?"

TJ nodded, confirming his suspicions. Well, the neurological exam made sense then. "And before that?" She added.

He frowned, thinking. Why was that important?

"I think Gloria's nagging that I should tell the Colonel where we were going? I asked her to do it in my stead. Young has a lot better tolerance for her than me," He chuckled, but it died down as soon as he saw TJ expression. "What is it?"

She took a deep breath in.

"I have reasons to believe that the machine - the chair, had done something to your brain. We still don't know what exactly, but it looks like it tried to rewrite your cortex."

He didn't like the sound of it.

"To what point?"

"We don't know. But you may experience two sets of memories. One true and one -"

"Think very carefully about your next words, lieutenant." He cut in, his voice cold as a steal.

"Excuse me?"

"I know what you're going to insinuate - the Colonel went exactly the same route even if less sophisticated. Now, let me tell exactly the same thing that I've told him - that's bullshit."

"Doctor Rush -"

"How should I know that this is real, then?" he said pointedly. "That this conversation is really happening?"

"What?"

"I have a very vivid memory of holding my wife's hand when going through the stargate," no chance in hell it wasn't real. Why wouldn't it be? "I remember Mr. Brody making her a violin from spare metal parts that sounds dreadful, but she was as thankful for it as if he had given her the Stradivarius. How can you even think that any of it is a lie?" His tone became desperate as he searched for any indication in TJ eyes that he didn't make that all up. They were the ones mistaken! Not him! "Shit!" He clutched his head that suddenly felt like somebody had split it open with a machete, and Johansen jumped from her seat.

"Where does it hurt?"

"Head. Again." He groaned. Just what exactly did that bloody chair did to him?

"Doctor Rush, I need you to focus on something else," Johansen's voice sounded detached, and it took him a moment to understand and comprehend the meaning behind her words.

"Come again?" Was that his voice? It sounded too strained and far away.

"Your brain is forcing you into a seizure. I need you to focus on something else and not giving it a medium to feed on."

He could feel his leg twitch uncontrollably, and a sudden fear gripped him. If what TJ had said was true, then nobody knew what a seizure could do to an already damaged brain. Rush tried to push his thoughts away from the arising conflict in his head, but no matter how much he tried, the pain only grew worse. Because how could somebody insist that Gloria wasn't real? What had happened to her, then? How -

" - need to ho...d.. it.. to...ther. Your wife will be here in a moment."

"What did you say?" He groaned, blinking.

"I sent her to get the Colonel."

Johansen didn't look comfortable, far from it, but that fact escaped him entirely. All he could focus on was the case that the splitting headache, so profound just a second ago, now seemed to be only lurking somewhere far away, like a distant memory.

"It's... It's gone..." he whispered, confused.

TJ nodded, but she was unable to meet his gaze. There was sadness in her that he didn't understand and something more... something that kept escaping his mind.

"Try to relax, alright?" she asked while standing up. Somehow he wasn't reassured by the fake smile on her face. "I need to scan your head. Eli got the ancient MRI working. I'll be back in a minute."

"Lieutenant?" She turned around at his voice. A sudden spike of pain behind his left eyeball made him wince, but he swallowed the groan down, clenching his fists to distract himself. "If what you say is true, then how can I be certain what is happening and what isn't? Can you prove to me that this conversation right now is really happening?"

This time she didn't drop her gaze.

"We'll figure it out," she said.

He didn't feel better at all.

Nick. It's not real.

Wasn't it?

[holy-heck-i-love-my-fo]

I just needed to write a parkdam fic . TW for people being seriously harmed, having harm come their way, needles, stitching of body things that shouldn’t be stitched, gore, blood, guns, corpses, cursing, snot, and things that are painful. If anything there is something that bothers you, then don’t worry! :)! <3! Don’t feel obligated to read, and I have some fun stuff/an introduction to my Saw S/I that needs no trigger warnings coming out soon!!!

@gentle-horrors.

-----

When I was tossed into the room, I wasn’t sure what it was. I couldn’t see through the pig mask that they forced onto my head. I couldn’t speak due to the stitches through the skin around my lips that kept my mouth shut. The stitches felt suffocating, even though my nose was fine and unplugged. Plus, the pain that came with them was almost too much to bear. But there wasn’t any way that I could even try to lessen it. I’d tried, but my hands were firmly cuffed behind my back. The chains between the cuffs were so tight that I could barely move my hands.

I stretched out my fingers, happy that I could move those. It made me feel a little more in control. Which was good, seeing as my sense of sight, my ability to speak, and my ability to move my arms freely made me feel very out of control.

The only thing I had to feel relieved about was that the man who took me didn’t sew my eyes shut. He considered it, but eventually decided on just the mask when I begged and pleaded, tears streaming down my cheeks. Then he sprung it on me. He told me that I wouldn’t be able to beg for my life anymore as he took the needle and sewed my mouth shut. It was all it took not to scream in pain once the needle entered my skin, but I managed to avoid it, if only because I feared that it would pull at the stitches and make the sewing hurt more. Or that the man would hurt me for screaming. He was already testing me in a way. He showed no sympathy, but I could tell that he thought that he was morally superior to me. It was something in the way that he looked at me. Like he thought whatever I got was justified.

It disgusted me.

As I got my lips sewn shut, I was far more disgusted by the man in front of me than hurt by the pain of the stitches.

But when he cuffed my hands together, I started to hyperventilate. My body tried to instinctively breathe through my mouth, and I teared up at the pain of my lips trying to pull apart. As I was forced to breathe through my nose, the cold stung the inside as I quickly breathed in and out. I worried that I’d pass out. Then a mask was tossed onto me. A pig mask like that of the person who’d kidnapped me. I recognized it before he put it on me. But mine didn’t have eye holes or anything.

It turned out that I didn’t need to worry about passing out from my hyperventilation when a needle was shoved into me and something entered me that made me quickly pass out.

---

I woke up, my eyes fluttering. I went to smile, happy that it was just a dream. But then the stitches burned as I tried to, and I instinctively teared up. It was no dream. I was living a nightmare. My mouth was dry despite the fact that I hadn’t opened it. I wondered how long I’d been out. Long enough for the blood around my mouth to stop flowing, and dry. It could’ve been anywhere from a few hours to a few days. My stomach rumbled from hunger, which told me it had to be pretty long, since I’d eaten just a little bit before the man took me.

Whoever had their hands on me shoved me through a door, and I heard two voices start to shout at me.

“Hands up! I have a gun.” One shouted.

I had a feeling he was lying about the gun. Or he was very weak. Maybe he just really didn’t want to shoot. It was a guess because his voice shook when he said it.

“Sick fuck,” the other muttered, his voice still very audible. He knew I heard him, but he didn’t seem to care.

Then again, what did I know? I wasn’t a professional or anything. For all I knew, the first guy had a gun pointed straight at my head, and the second guy was trying to whisper.

I quickly bent over at my waist, swinging my arms as far up into the air as I could, so that they could see that I was as much a victim as they were.

“So you’re stuck, too,” the first voice said, sounding almost melancholic.

Did he want me to be a puppet master in this sick game? Or maybe he thought I could’ve released him.

“Talk,” the second voice said, blunt as could be.

I stayed silent, unable to speak.

“Tell us what you know,” the first voice said.

I wished I could’ve told them anything.

“Goddammit!” The first voice shouted, sounding like he slammed his fist down on something.

Something clicked in my head. I shouted as loud as I could with my mouth closed, letting them hear it muffled by my lips. It was something a lot of people had tried at least once. Making noises with their mouth closed. So I hoped it was recognizable.

It seemed to click to at least Guy 1, as he asked “What happened to your mouth?”.

“Well, Larry, it doesn’t seem much like whoever this is can exactly tell us.”

A slight laugh fell from my mouth, and my stitches hurt from smiling.

“Well how do you propose we fix it?” Guy 1- Larry- asked.

Guy 2 didn’t reply for a few minutes. I just stood there. I didn’t want to move, lest I step onto some broken glass or something. I had no idea what was in the room.

“Well maybe we should see what’s wrong first,” Guy 2 said. I felt like I was drawn more to him than Larry.

“Okay. Then let whoever this is come over to you. Inspect him.”

“Well you’re the doctor,” Guy 2 muttered.

“If this is a trap and someone needs first aid, I’ll need to be healthy to do it,” Larry said.

“Well you’re chained to a pipe, so I’m not sure how much help you’d be to someone across the room from you.”

“If this were a trap,” Larry said, “then maybe you wouldn’t want to tell the person who could be trapping us that we’re at a disadvantage.”

Guy 2 didn’t reply, presumably huffing over getting a talking to.

"Go over to Adam,” Larry said.

It put a name to Guy 2′s voice. Adam.

I nodded, but I wasn’t sure if they could even see it with the mask covering part of my neck.

Adam was quiet.

I paused for a second. If I could talk, I’d ask Larry and Adam how they expected me to go over to Adam if I had no clue as to where he was, and he wasn’t speaking.

“Well, say something,” Larry said, after an awkward pause.

I liked Larry. He thought like me. Plus, he was a doctor. I’d had some medical training myself, so I knew how tough it could be.

“Fine. I’m over here.” I followed Adam’s voice, walking forward first to make sure I wouldn’t slam into any walls.

Adam started shouting. “Wait! Make sure not to step on the-”

It was too late. I felt something squelch under my foot, and I instantly felt woozy.

“corpse.” He finished his sentence.

I teared up. I’d stepped on a corpse. There was a corpse in the room, and I’d stepped on it.

I tried to calm my head as it spun. I walked towards where I last heard Adam’s voice, walking much faster than before. I needed someone. It didn’t matter that I didn’t even know the guy. I’d stepped on a corpse.

I walked closer to where I’d last heard Adam’s voice, but I stumbled. And slipped on the blood on the bottom of my foot. Without my hands to catch me, I fell face first towards the hard concrete. I felt under my feet that it was concrete. I had a feeling that falling like that would put me in a state matching the guy who I stepped on. I hated that in my final moments, I was completely helpless.

Then I fell onto something softer than the ground. I wasn’t sure what it was at first, but then I felt breathing on the back of my neck.

I was pretty sure I fell onto Adam.

I felt my face flush, feeling like I’d made a bad impression on him already. And now I had my head buried in what was probably his shoulder.

I wanted to say sorry, but I couldn’t. My eyes widened, and I knew that I had bigger concerns than a bad first impression, but I couldn’t help but feel bad.

He didn’t say anything, choosing to instead take the pig mask off of me. My eyes stung under the fluorescent lights, even though they were pretty dim.

I got a good look at Adam’s face, and the stitches around my mouth burned as I weakly smiled at how he looked more concerned than annoyed. That was a good sign that he wasn’t mad at me.

“Shit...” he said, running his hand over the stitches.

“What is it?” Larry asked from across the room.

“His mouth is sewn shut,” Adam said, voice full of something that after a few moments, I recognized as horror.

I glanced over at Larry. There was a gun in the middle of the floor, but he didn’t have it. I guessed he was betting on me not having great eyesight, or maybe he saw that there were no eyeholes in my mask. Either way, if I were sent as a minion by the man, I probably would’ve seen that he didn’t have it.

Also in the middle of the floor was the corpse. His face was down, so I didn’t even know if I recognized him or not. And footprints from my bare feet in the blood. I teared up, then started to sob. But every time that I went to instinctively gasp, I couldn’t. I felt like I was choking.

Adam wrapped an arm around me, starting to pat my back. Tears streamed down my face, and I felt my nose begin to drip a little. It made my breathing harder, because I had to deal with my snot and my tears when I tried to breathe in. I also worried that I was getting Adam’s shirt messy, but there seemed to already be some dirt and grime on it, so I hoped that he wouldn’t mind.

“What can we do?” Larry asked.

I noticed a saw next to Adam and I. I pointed to it with my cuffed hands, turned around to point to Adam, and then mimed sawing to him. I turned back around to face him, and he looked at me with a look that seemed to imply that I was crazy.

“He wants me to saw the stitches,” Adam said.

I nodded my head up and down.

“That sounds like something someone would end up in the hospital trying to do,” Larry said.

“I feel like he should do it. He’s the doctor,” Adam said, pointing to Larry.

I nodded my head left and right. I couldn’t walk across the floor again, even with my vision. I just couldn’t.

He sighed, seeming to reside himself to his fate.

He picked up the saw, and cut into the stitches as tenderly as possible. The saw was larger than my mouth, and my lips were tight behind the stitches, so I ended up with blood running down my face. But I could open my mouth. I could breathe again. It felt amazing.

“Thank you,” I said, voice croaky and dry, with tears still dropping.

“You’re welcome,” he said in reply, just looking at my face.

“You did really well,” I said.

“Thanks,” he said.

And I breathed a lot more easily lying there with him. The future was uncertain, but at least I knew that I had someone to trust.

[meterokinesis]

Black and Blue

Read it on AO3

Prompt: “bruises”

TW for domestic violence, physical abuse, harm to children. Please read responsibly.

Summary: Bruce Wayne never expected his children to come to him whole. But he never expected Tim Drake to be so bruised.

(Or, Batman saves the boy who saved him)

Bruce never expected his children to come to him whole.

Dick had calluses and impacted musculoskeletal growth, along with an anger Bruce wasn’t sure would ever be sated. Jason was malnourished and coping with PTSD, and had scars with more history than most developed nations. But of them all, he expected Tim to be the least shattered; he’d grown up in the lap of luxury after all.

He never expected Tim to be so bruised.

                                           _________________

Tim was a smart kid, no doubt about that. Years ago, Bruce had taken a look at his records: straight A’s since kindergarten, fluency in three languages and working on a fourth, an IQ of 142. He wasn’t Lex Luthor, but it was impressive for a kid of just 13. Especially a kid who never seemed to stay in one place for long.

Tim’s school records revealed more than just his intelligence. He was taught by an au pair until kindergarten, then went to a private elementary school just outside Gotham for three years. From third to fifth grade he was enrolled at Gotham Academy as a boarder. Middle school was spent at another boarding school in Gotham, but he was allowed home on weekends. He’d start freshman year at a public school, Louis E. Grieves Memorial, the upcoming September.

Bruce didn’t pretend to know everything about child psychology, but he was sure that repeated upheavals were bad for any child, let alone one who was smarter than most of his classmates to begin with. He didn’t even want to think about Tim going to a public school in a few weeks.

It was the reports from Tim’s teachers that made Bruce hesitate the most:

Timothy struggles with connecting to other classmates.

Timothy stayed indoors during recess, claiming a stomach ache. When asked if he wanted to play with the others, he shook his head and went back to reading.

Timothy is a pleasure to have in class, but the school mandates that parents must sign off on permission slips, rather than nannies.

Timothy’s roommate frequently complains about Timothy’s nightmares. The Drake family doctor has prescribed sleeping aids to help the problem.

Timothy came back from his weekend at home with a black eye and multiple new surface injuries. He insists he fell while skateboarding.

It didn’t take a detective to know that Tim was being bullied. He was a skinny kid with gelled-up hair and an affinity for math. As Tim himself once put it, he was “every coming-of-age movie’s nerd who gets shoved into a locker.” That didn’t make it any better.

Bruce hadn’t realized that he was at the Drakes’ house until his knuckles stalled an inch from the door. The limo that hauled the Drakes around wasn’t in the driveway. This wasn’t a wellness check, it was a nice walk that ended in seeing his newest sidekick. That was an excuse he could live with.

He rapped twice: two loud, short knocks that seemed to echo. Not a minute later, he could hear locks clicking on the other side of the door, and there was Tim--all 5’2” of him.

It wasn’t Tim’s short stature or gelled hair that made Bruce’s heart sink, though. It was the bruises that caressed his jaw and temple that almost ended in a black eye. His nose was bruised, but Bruce didn’t think it was broken. Probably. The bruises were fresh, less than 24 hours old. Tim had been beaten up recently.

“Who did this to you?” He tried to ask gently, but it came out too harsh and too breathy all at once. Bruce reached out for Tim’s shoulder, but the young teenager avoided him with ease, like it was a practiced movement.

“‘S not important,” Tim mumbled, his tone achingly adolescent.

“I know you’re getting bullied, Tim. I know it’s been going on for a long time. I need you to tell me who it is so they can see consequences.” Bruce had never done this before. He’d saved kids from hostage situations and from the creepy guy on the playground. But he’d never had to save kids from other kids.

Instead of breaking down in tears like Bruce expected, Tim barked a short laugh.

“I’m not getting bullied, B. I’m Robin, do you seriously think Tyrone Wright bothers me anymore? Not to mention, I never have to see him again. He’s going to Gotham Academy next year.”

“Then who-” Bruce’s sentence fell apart as his mouth caught up with his mind. Fresh bruises. Not another kid. The Drakes left this morning.

Oh.

“Tim,” he began slowly, “did your father do this to you?”

Tim’s demeanor dropped immediately, and he wouldn’t look Bruce in the eye. Seconds passed without a response, and for a second Bruce could painfully feel how, in this moment, they were Batman and a scared child.

“He didn’t mean to,” Tim finally let out, his voice as quiet as a dying breath.

Worry churned in Bruce’s stomach. Those words were never a good sign.

“I need you to explain everything that happened last night, okay?” Bruce said, as gently as he could while his heart was breaking. “Do you want to talk here, or at the Manor?”

Instead of answering, Tim slipped back into the house, leaving the door open for Bruce to follow. Bruce crossed the threshold, and took in the Drake mansion. It was full of that post-modern, minimalist decor that Bruce despised. It looked sterile, like a museum or a morgue. It certainly didn’t look like a place that housed a 13 year old boy.

Tim led him past the foyer and the formal sitting room and into the kitchen, where he selected a stool at the island. The counters were marble and impeccably clean. The cabinets were glass and white-painted wood. It looked like something out of a magazine. Pictures lined the walls, but they were all landscapes of foreign lands. Bruce couldn’t spot a single family photo.

“Where are your parents? I thought they were supposed to be in Gotham for at least another week,” Bruce began, but he truly didn’t care that the Drakes were gone. Good riddance.

“They left this morning for Haiti. Some big dig started early and they couldn’t miss it,” Tim whispered, his tone much wetter than it had been a few minutes before. “We were supposed to have a big going-away dinner, but I was playing my music too loud and didn’t hear my dad when he called. He came in and saw me just sitting on my bed and told me to stand up. S-so I did and he slapped m-” Tim’s sentences were barely-suppressed sobs now.

“He hit you so hard you bruised?” Bruce prompted, frowning. “Has he done this before?”

“N-no. To both. I wasn’t ready and I fell and hit my head on my desk. It’s not like that’s what he wanted to happen.” Tim had managed to choke down the tears, and was now staring solemnly at Bruce. It was as if he’d learned to quiet his sorrow as quickly as possible.

“Tim…” Bruce murmured, but he could barely get the words out over the pain of his heart splintering. “You didn’t deserve that. It’s not your fault. Your dad shouldn’t have hit you. No adult should hit a child, ever.” 

Tim stared at the countertop, but remained silent. Bruce reached out to pat him on the back, but when his hand brushed Tim’s shoulder, Tim flinched. Bruce didn’t try to touch him again after that.

“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do,” he finally said, putting on the voice he used as Batman. “We’re going to go to the manor, take a look at your injuries, and watch some movies. Alfred will buy us those ice cream cookie sandwiches if we ask nicely. That sound good?”

Tim nodded mutely and pushed himself off the stool.

“Okay, what do you need to pack to stay at the Manor? Clothes, obviously--maybe a speaker?”

“He broke mine. Before he hit me.” Tim mumbled.

Bruce froze, just for a second. “Well, we’ll have to fix that. How about we get you a new WayneTech phone? You can download music onto it, and I’ll get you some earbuds too.” Bruce followed Tim as the boy wove his way through the house, all the way up to his room. It was starkly bare, with a few posters and knick knacks but not much else. Tim shoved clothes into a duffel bag, did a quick survey, then looked at Bruce.

“Ready.”

That’s it? It was shocking how easily Tim could pick himself out of this life, like he was a piece of lint on a fancy suit.

Still, Bruce smiled. “Then let’s go. I’m thinking Star Wars for the movies, how about you?”

Tim quipped something about how Star Trek was superior in every way, but all Bruce could think about were his other sons. It hadn’t even been six months since he’d lost Jason, but he was already letting another child in. He wasn’t going to let another little boy slip through the cracks.

And when the Drakes came home from Haiti, he would show them no mercy.

[masked-buffoon]

Chapter 10: Truth and illusions (Part 4)

Warnings: violence, child abuse

Author notes: it is so cliche that the main character never knows how to take care of a child... The main question is... Do we like cliches...?

The boy had quickly agreed to play with me while his mother and Yosano-sensei had an "adults talk". He had led me to the living room next door and, when I had asked him what he wished to do, he had answered that he wanted to draw. After just enough time to grab paper and crayons, there he was, quietly occupying himself while I was watching, and yawning. The doctor had been wrong, Sakunosuke-kun was not an imp, not the devil in disguise. I had overheard her thoughts earlier. He was simply a kid and, even though I had no experience with them, it was not too complicated understanding their desires. I only needed to rely on my ability, after all… Which did not mean I was good with children.

"Look, look…! What do you think, Kasumi nē-san?" He excitedly shoved his doodle towards my face.

Years of acting allowed the most genuine smile of admiration to turn my lips upwards.

"It's lovely...!" I exclaimed "You're such an artist, Sakunosuke-kun!"

Immediately, a pout formed on his chubby face and he lowered it, as though he was going to cry.

"You're a liar… You don't like it…"

What had I done wrong for him to see through me…? Even the best businessman could not detect I was acting…! I was at a loss for words when tears actually started gathering in his eyes. The first sobs were about to come out from his throat, when I crouched in front of him and put my hands on his cheeks.

"Don't cry…!" I demanded, not quite knowing what I was trying to accomplish "Why would you cry…?"

"... Because you don't like the drawing…" He mumbled.

"I didn't —"

I stopped myself. My lie had been discovered, so assuring I did like his drawing would only make me sound fake. I frowned slightly.

"How old are you, Sakunosuke-kun?"

"I'm almost eleven…!" He declared, rather proudly.

"Eleven? Then you're a small adult." I stated, to boost his ego.

"Right…! Dad said so too…!"

"Then, I can talk to you like an adult." I let go of him "Sit next to me."

He obeyed, and I took his drawing from his hands.

"This is what you made."

He nodded.

"And I… Am not quite fond of it." I admitted.

Tears came back to his eyes.

"Don't." I calmly told him "Let me tell you something useful, as an adult."

"What is it…?"

"Not everyone will like you or what you do. It is very hard to understand that, but since you're a little adult, you do get my point, right?"

"Mmh… Because… Everyone has different tastes…?"

"That's exactly what it is. If you know that, then do not be sad that I don't like your drawing, for, what matters most is that you like what you do…" I smiled slightly "Do you like your own drawing?"

"Very much…!"

"Then you shouldn't cry because of me."

He agreed and, surprisingly, I found myself patting his hair. He was ten years old… Just like Ruriko-chan when I had been thrown away. I regretted not having been a better sister, sometimes…

"Do you want to play hide and seek, nē-san?" He suddenly offered.

I immediately saw an opportunity to search the house as I would be searching for him.

"Alright, Sakunosuke-kun. I'll count…! So you better hide well…!"

"You'll never find me…!" He claimed.

He had no chance to hide from me, for my ability would find him immediately. However, seriously looking for him was not my current purpose. Swiftly, I covered my eyes and started counting until one hundred.

"I'm coming…!" I warned him, playfully.

And I searched for the young boy, I explored the mansion up and down. Obviously, I had already found him; he was hidden in his room, upstairs. It amused him to think he was so good that I could not see him. At the very least, he was having fun. I discreetly checked that Yosano-sensei was still talking to the mother to venture myself in a closed room. Or, rather, it was a locked one. Nevertheless, no lock could resist me and I quickly picked it up. It was Taikin-san's office. Whatever the man was hiding, I would discover it, for the sake of protecting that boy.

As I grabbed a file, however, I wondered why I was so determined to fulfill that mission. Or, rather, I did not care much about the mission, not as much as I cared for the boy. His smile warmed a heart I believed had long been frozen by an all too cruel world, and his presence was enough for my being to feel at ease. He was appeasing. With him, I did not feel tormented by my issues; I did not care about the Armed Detective Agency, nor about Dazai, nor about me… Even my annoying ability seemed a very meaningless matter. I only wanted to preserve his innocence. It was such a simple purpose, yet it gave my mission a whole new meaning. Caring about others suddenly seemed so easy to the ever-doubting person I was.

My fingers trembled in excitement as I turned the pages of the binder, looking for any kind of clue about Sakunosuke-kun's father. According to my own research, Taikin-san was a successful businessman whose main possession was his enterprise, a very prosperous technology business. His last invention was a chip which would, in the future, replace our cellphones. The chip would be inserted in our forearm and we would access data directly from our brain. Or was it a holographic screen? I did not remember the details, but I had to admit he had futuristic ideas, although they had already been seen in works of science fiction. Even so, why would one want to hurt him? Except for his well-deserved success, he had never hurt anyone and seemed like a nice person. Every month, he would make a donation to charities and had even financed a school in Ethiopia. A quick look through his ledger did not show any kind of embezzlement either. I had no idea who could resent him, nor why. On the surface and even as the leader of an important business, that man was perfect.

"I'm so bored of waiting… Nē-san really sucks at this game…!"

I remembered the game of hide and seek with Sakunosuke-kun and hurried out of the office. As soon as I closed the door, the boy was in front of me, his big eyes full of questions as he saw me. I cracked a smile.

"There you are…! I looked for you everywhere!"

"You're so bad at finding people…!" He laughed at me.

"That's because you're too good at hiding." I poked his nose "What about trying again?"

"No!" He declined my suggestion "This time, you'll hide…!"

"Sure thing, then." I grinned "Let's see if you can find me~"

He started counting and I took the opportunity to disappear from his sight. Trying to investigate more would make me look suspicious. For the moment, I would have to focus on playing with the boy.

A random room would serve as a hideout, so, the moment he could not see me anymore, I opened the first door on my left and entered the room. It was rather large. A bed was placed against the wall on my right and, in front of me, a bay gave access to a balcony. Further, a large wardrobe seemed to contain someone's clothes. On the nightstand, a picture distracted me from the game. It was Yumiko-san, with Sakunosuke-kun. They both looked bright and happy… However, Taikin-san was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps he had been the one to take the picture, after all. As I put the frame down, loud gunshots made me jump in surprise and dropped it. Unfortunately, it broke on the wooden floor and, cursing my clumsiness, I crouched down to pick the glass pieces up. I most certainly would have to call a maid… And I had to hurry; that shot did not predict anything good. Where was Sakunosuke-kun…?!

A last thing caught my attention. There was a second picture, right behind the main one. My eyes widened when I finally saw it. A woman wearing a colourful kimono was holding a crying child. The look on her face was tired, but her eyes, as blue as a field of lavender in summer, shone so brightly with happiness that I hardly recognised her. She was Ogawa Eirin, my mother. And the crying child…

"My first love… May you be happy with the sun of your life."

It was me. It was my name, and the date written under the note only served to confirm it. I pursed my lips. Sadly, the only thing I remembered from that woman was how she had avoided me each time she had seen me… Taikin-san's wish had never been fulfilled…

Another wave of gunshots erupted in the mansion, bringing me back to my current mission. I had to find Sakunosuke-kun before anything could happen to him. I shoved the picture in the inner pocket of my coat, and rushed out of the room. I could not utter a sound to call him. If the enemy was in there, I would reveal my position and any attempt at surprise would be ruined. I decided to use my ability, despite how exhausted it would make me feel.

"Scared… I'm scared…!"

His thoughts led me back to the living room, where Yumiko-san had passed out, holding her shoulder in pain. Yosano-san was holding her close to her, a seesaw in her free hand, ready to defend themselves against anyone who would dare approach them.

"What happened?" I asked, nervous.

"We were attacked, suddenly…" The doctor answered me.

The glass of the former windows, shattered on the ground, proved we had indeed been targeted.

"Are you unharmed?" I inquired.

"I'm fine, save for a few scratches here and there. Yumiko-san is okay too… Her prosthetic arm saved her."

My eyes widened as I saw she was not bleeding. Instead, a kind of oil dripped from her wound. I simply nodded.

"I have to find Sakunosuke-kun. We were playing hide and seek and —"

"Ogawa… They took him…"

"What…?" My throat was suddenly dry "I thought… I… How…?"

"They came in and looked for him. When they went out, he was with them." She sighed "I'm sorry, I was on the verge of death… My ability saved me…"

"Don't apologise, sensei… This was only due to my negligence, after all…"

But then, whose thoughts had I heard…?

"Save me… I'm scared…"

The boy was still here, after all… But he was in a different place. I took a pain reliever, a useless attempt to get rid of my headache, and focused. I had made a mistake. The voice came from another floor, which meant the boy was above me. I climbed the stairs and opened the door of the targeted room. It was closed.

"Sakunosuke-kun…! It's me, Kasumi nē-san…!" I called.

"... Who…?"

I frowned and forced the door open. In a corner of the room, poorly decorated and left dusty, the boy was crouched down. However, his clothes had changed. The ones he was currently wearing were old, worn out.

"You are not Sakunosuke-kun…" I muttered slowly approaching me "Shh, don't be afraid… It's alright, I don't want to hurt you…"

"Who are you…? How do you know my brother…? And how did you find me…?"

"You have so many questions…" I smiled at him "My name is Fuyuno Kasumi, and I was hired to protect your brother and your mother… I found you because… I had an intuition. What's your name?"

"Kitaro…" He said, timidly.

"Kitaro-kun…" I repeated "Alright… Don't worry, I'll protect you too…"

Gently, I took him against me for a hug. He was sobbing against my shoulder, the poor thing… In him, I was sad to recognise my younger self…

[greekowl87]

Fic: Elegy for the Dead; Hope for the Living

A/N: I’ve been playing a lot of the X-Files in the background as I’ve been working the past few days. I just rewatched Elegy and got some major cancer arc angst inspiration. And I can’t sleep with anxiety again. So, cancer arc angst anyone? Lucky you! @today-in-fic @suitablyaggrieved @baronessblixen No beta. Sorry

She is me. 

Scully awoke, gasping for air, remembering the blood-stained letters in mirror reflecting back at her. Her nose bloody, unable to stop it or the cancer that was slowly killing her. She remembered Mulder telling her that only those close to death would see the ghosts. She had seen those dead spirits. That probably meant her own mortality wasn’t that far off.

She touched her nose, feeling the coppery blood. Turning on the light, she reached for a tissue to stem the bleeding. She pinched her nose and jogged to her bathroom. The stream of blood seemed never-ending. She pinched her nose tighter and leaned her head back. It had been two weeks since her last treatment and she was beginning to reconsider even doing them at all. She grabbed a new tissue and closed her eyes, feeling sudden pain.

She walked quickly to her bedroom, blindly grabbing her phone. She dialed Mulder’s number and he answered it on the first ring. “Scully? What is it?”

“Um, can you get over here as fast as you can?”

“Are you okay?”

“Can you just get over here?”

“I’m on my way.”

Her pulse was racing. She is me. See the dead girl and the apparition of Harold Spuller. She had tears as she rushed back to the bathroom. The nosebleed had slowed as she grabbed another tissue. Scully sat on the edge of her toilet seat and tried to take a few breaths. Not only was she trying to stem her nosebleed but she was also trying to curve the panic attack that was threatening to rise in her chest.

She checked the tissue, seeing that bleeding had finally stopped but now she could feel bile rising up in the back of her throat, stomach twisting. Her pulse spiked and she could feel her heart pounding in her chest. Then, she couldn’t handle it... nausea. She flipped open the toilet, got on her knees, and braced herself as the panic wrecked the rest of her body.

* * * * * 

Mulder sped into Georgetown on the empty Beltway. He managed to find a parking spot right in front of her building. He looked up to her apartment and saw the lights turned off. He rushed up the stairs and unlocked her door. Darkness greeted him as he stepped into the apartment. His heart stopped. “Scully? Scully!”

“I’m in the bathroom, Mulder.”

He could Scully’s shaking voice and in a few long strides, he went to her bathroom. She was sitting on the floor with her knees to her chest. Her hair was askew, her eyes bloodshot. “Scully? What happened?’

She lifted her hand and he saw tremors. “I can’t get my hand to stop shaking, Mulder.” She held up her other hand. “My hands won’t stop shaking. And my heart, it feels like it’s about to burst on my chest. I can’t stand. My head is swimming. I’ve been dry heaving for the past hour. I’m sick to my stomach.”

“Is it cancer?”

“I don’t think so.” She shook her head, tears in her eyes. “No.” She strangled a laugh. “It’s a panic attack. I have all the classic signs of a panic attack.” But her weak laughter turned in a sob and Mulder bent down in front of her. “I’ve never had a panic attack, Mulder!”

Mulder placed his hand against her breast bone and wrapped his arm around her. Carefully, not breaking contact, he sat next to her and pulled her against him. She cried harder and tried to curl into him. “I’m right here, Scully.” He kissed her hair and held her tighter. “I’m here.”

“I can’t breathe.” She began to hyperventilate and she pulled back in alarm. “Mulder!”

“Scully, it’s your panic attack. You have to calm down.”

“I don’t want to die. I don’t want to.” 

Her tears were coming faster and he frowned and pulled her into between his long legs. He wrapped his arms around her and tried to surround her like a blanket. He took a deep breath and held it and breathed out slowly. “Scully, you need to breathe. Breathe with me.” He took another deep breath, held it, and slowly exhaled. “Do you feel it, Scully? You have to breathe with me. Come on, let’s take another breath.”

Scully clutched his hands and tried to slow her breaths to match his. After about five minutes of repeating their breathing cycle, she could feel her world become a bit steadier.

“You okay?” She nodded, closing her eyes and leaned back against him. He tightened his arms around her. “Do you think you can stand?”

She shook her head. “I’ve been feeling light-headed and from throwing up...it really takes it out of me, Mulder.”

“Okay. Give me a second then.”

He stood up first and held out both of his large hands. Scully stared at them, her eyes trying to focus on them despite her swimming head. She grabbed his hands and he helped her stand effortlessly. “Are you okay?”

She swayed slightly and kept her eyes closed.  “I think so...I don’t know what happened. I woke up from a nightmare and then I had a nosebleed. I don’t know what possessed me to call you. I probably wasted your time.”

“I wouldn’t call this a waste of time. You had quite the panic attack from the looks of it.” He was silent, gently caressing her cheek. “Let’s get something to calm your stomach.”

“Mulder, I’m fine.”

He growled in frustration. “Scully, what did I tell you? The sooner you stop denying it, the more I can help you. Hearing you say you didn’t want to die tonight was the closest you’ve come to telling me the truth in the past seven months.”

She lowered her gaze, remembering her conversation with her therapist. “I don’t want to disappoint you.” Her confession was barely a whisper but loud enough for him to hear. “I’m sorry.”

Mulder sighed, shaking his head. “Don’t be.” He wrapped his arm around her neck and pulled her into a hug. “Aw, Scully. I can never be disappointed with you.” She nodded silently into his chest. “But let’s try to get some food into you. Do you have anything you think you might be able to stomach?”

She nodded. “I’ll get it…”

“No, you will sit on your couch. I’ll make it for you.”

“Mulder, it was just a tiny panic attack.”

“No, it wasn’t.” He rubbed her shoulder. “As a psychologist, I am telling you it was a bad one.”

“And I’m a doctor.”

“And together we make one hell of a team.” She looked up and smiled slightly. “I’ll take care of it. Why don’t you go lay down and I’ll make you something to eat.”

He lead her to to the couch and began to dig through her cabinets. Scully took her Afghan and wrapped around her shoulders. She watched him. “I have Lipton noodle soup above the sink. During my first rounds of radiation, that was one of the few things I could stomach.”

“Okay,” he smiled, “we got somewhere to start. So, I know Chef Mike personally who’ll do a great job on this.”

“Chef Mike,” she whispered. He saw her smile slightly. “Who’s that.”

He tapped her microwave proudly. She chuckled and nodded. “Chef Mike.”

Mulder quickly filled a microwaveable container with water and the soup mix and put it in for 12 minutes. He went to the sink and poured her a glass of water. They sat in silence for a bit. “So,” he began, walking to join her on the couch, “You want to tell me what happened?”

She drew her knees close. “A nightmare. She is me. I woke up with the nosebleed and then one thing led to another.”

“What did we just talk about, Scully?”

She cleared her throat, trying to organize her thoughts. “After I left tonight, I saw Harold Spuller’s apparition in the back of my car, Mulder. Just like I did with the murder victim. What you said about them being a fetch...an omen of death…” her voice trailed off and she wiped away fresh tears. “I don’t want to die, Mulder. I’m not ready to die. But I’m afraid. I am so afraid.”

“Is that what caused the panic attack?”

“Part of it and this nosebleed, I was afraid it wasn’t going to stop. I mean I’m a doctor but a part of me thought of the illogical possibilities.” She reached for the water Mulder had brought her. Her throat felt raw and the water soothed it a little. “I’m scared, Mulder. I’ve tried so hard to be strong and keep my faith but I have never felt more lost. I know I’m dying but I can’t accept it.”

He reached for her hand and held it. “That’s the first time since this all started you’ve told me how you actually feel.”

She cringed and hide her face in her other hand. “Sure you aren’t disappointed in me?”

“Why would I be?”

She shrugged. The microwave timer went off and he held up a finger to fetch her a mug of soup. Scully watched him, feeling so touched by his signs of affection. He returned with a steaming cup and handed her a spoon. She nodded and sipped the scalding liquid slowly. “Thank you.” She looked up to him and shrugged. “I don’t know. I feel like even after four years, I still have to prove myself to you.”

“You have nothing to prove to me, Scully.” He sighed. “I just wished you would have told me sooner. So you saw Spuller’s fetch huh?” She nodded. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Maybe because you’re so close to death right now...you’re a pathologist…”

“Mulder,” she whispered, “We both know what it is. It’s the cancer.”

“That doesn’t mean you won’t get better,” he said. She ate more of the soup. “I refuse to believe it.”

“Mulder, I’m getting worse, not better.” She sighed. “I went to the doctor after my previous nosebleed and things were fine. I am not lying about that; I do feel fine. Most days but my treatments...I’m not responding to them anymore. It’s getting worse. We need to have this conversation. We’ve both been avoiding it.”

“You aren’t going to die from this, Scully. I won’t let it happen.”

“Oh, Mulder,” she whispered fondly “If I only had the strength of your beliefs.”

“I’ll find you a cure, Scully. I swear to God, I’ll find you a cure.” 

The tone and seriousness with which he vowed to her made her shiver. Maybe this was a conversation for another night. “Mulder,” she tried to downplay it. “Maybe...maybe this is the wrong time.”

“When will there be a time, Scully? I’m not going to let you die.” He took her hand and squeezed it. “I promise you, I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

She had tears in her eyes. “I’m not going to be able to eat all this myself.” She wiped them away. “And it’s late. I don’t want to see you driving home this late. Do you mind staying here tonight?”

Mulder titled his head. “I would be happy too, Scully.”

She gave a small smile as he got up to get the rest of the soup. They ate in silence, finishing it off. Somehow, unspoken communication did more for them compared to when they used their words. They finished the soup and Mulder washed out the mugs. Scully stood up on unsteady feet. He came to her side and she grasped his hand, leading him to her bedroom. Mulder felt his heart race. This was the stuff of his fantasies, but right now, those dreams took a back seat in favor of the present. “Stay with me, please, Mulder?”

“Whatever you want, Scully.”

He took away the Afghan and helped her into bed and gently tucked her in. He went to the other side of her bed and sat next to her. “I am sorry for not telling you the truth before,” she whispered.

He lay down on top of the covers next to her, kicking his shoes off in the process. “It’s okay. But you have to trust me when I say we’ll get through this together.”

Scully recalled the fetches. He turned onto his side and held out his arm. She snuggled against him. “I hope you are right,” she whispered.

“We will.” He hugged her tightly. “I’m glad you called me.”

She closed her eyes as he nuzzled her hair. “So am I.”

[pink-peony-princess]

Laughter is the best medicine

"Oh baby, what's the matter?" Shawn asked softly as he walked into his young daughter's room for the third time in the space of an hour. It had been one of those nights, and Shawn found himself resenting the fact that after a long day of work at the local hospital as an emergency doctor he couldn't just sit and enjoy a night on the sofa with his wife.

However as he turned the corner into his daughter's room, any hint of this lingering feeling feel away. Instead replaced with extreme concern as he made eye contact with the little girl, laying pitifully on the small bed.

He felt a lump rise in his throat. He was worried, Skylar his three year old daughter was his world and he and his wife Gracie had tried for so long for this precious little girl.

This worry only magified, a sick pit churning his insides as he took in the bright red, wet and snotty face of his distraught girl. The expression on the small girl's face would pull at the heart strings of anyone, but for Shawn this was coupled by the knowledge that something had to be seriously wrong for Sky to cry like this. She was normally such a happy child. And she had been anything but that today.

Initially Shawn wasn't too worried, as much as he detested seeing his daughter under the weather, he also knew it was flu season and being too small still to get a vaccine and attending kindergarten put her at risk. This was different though. This wasn't the cry of a child that was a little uncomfortable from the flu, this was full unchecked sobbing.

"Sky, sweetheart, Daddy needs you to take a big breath okay?" He whispered, sitting on the bed and wrapping the small girl in his embrace. He could feel her curling and uncurling her hands as she grabbed fist fulls of his worn-out pyjama shirt, something she did when she was trying to comfort herself. She was so tiny compared to his nearly 6'2" frame, yet she seemed to instantly melt into her father's warmth. Her little face was hot with the tears she cried, now buried in his chest, damp hair stuck to forehead from sweat.

Shawn hummed softly as her cries turned to soft whimpers. He tried not to move even as she fidgeted, trying to find a comfortable position. It was now almost nine PM and Gracie had put Sky to bed almost 3 hours ago in the hope that the two of them might get to have a rare, movie and cuddle night, something that seemed so rare these days with Shawn's job as an Internal Medicine resident. Before marriage four years ago he and Gracie would spend every weekend together watching their favourite movies, but then life got busy. Shawn had really been hoping for this night, but somehow both he and Gracie knew that it wasn't going to happen.

Sky hadn't really moved from her bed all day, something which both her parents found extremely worrying considering the usual boistirus energy that seemed so endless. And now here they were, Shawn trying desperately to comfort the small girl.

"How is she?" He heard Gracie ask from the doorway. Her voice shook, clearly she was trying not to cry and Shawn's heart gave another pang as he wished he had the ability to comfort his overwhelmed and exhausted wife and ill daughter simultaneously.

He wished nothing more than to be able to take both of his girl's pain, to make everything alright again.

"Feel sick," the small girl spoke before he had the chance to answer Gracie.

"I know pretty girl. Can you tell daddy where it hurts?" He asked, placing a hand on his daughter's forehead, feeling the heat of a raging temperature. 3 years as an internal medicine resident told him that her fever had to be over 100. Worryingly warm for anyone, especially someone as young as Skylar.

"Gracie, he spoke, turning to the door, "Will you bring an ice pack and the children's tylonol please."

His wife nodded, smiling at Sky, but Shawn saw the way she wiped a tear from her face surreptitiously as she left the room, her footsteps on the stairs the only other sound than his little girl's soft cries.

The little girl on the bed whimpered, confirming what he knew already. She was feeling miserable.

"Sky-sky, will you let daddy make you feel better? Can I use the boom-boom tool to listen to your chest?" He asked softly, using the name his daughter used to refer to his stethoscope.

She nodded mutely. Her cries softening ever a tiny bit, helping to ease some fo the hurt Shawn was feeling. He felt so helpless, something he was not used to. He was accustomed to being able to deal with issues, to staying calm under pressure when everyone else was a mess, to being clinical, methodical. This was different though, this was his little girl, his pride and joy, his precious little bundle. He couldn't help but pull the small girl just a little closer as he called down to his wife.

"Gracie will you grab my bag off the counter?" He requested, loud enough that he hoped she'd hear, but not too loud to startle Sky, who was finally starting to settle slightly.

Moments later Gracie re- appeared, ice-pack, Tylenol and, his work bag in hand.

"Want me to take her?"She whispered, nodding to Sky.

Shawn nodded, gently passing his daughter to her mother, earning a small whine.

"It's all right Sky-sky," she soothed kissing her head as Shawn had done earlier.

Shawn stood up and dug through his bag quicky, pulling out his stethoscope, otoscope and a few other bits he thought he might need before letting the bag drop to the floor- his ID badge falling out in the process. He didn't care though, his only thoughts on his little girl.

By the time his was sitting on the bed again (a mere 30 seconds later) small tears were rolling down Sky's cheeks, the familiar pang of hurt and worry reappeared as he tried fruitlessly to calm down the small girl.

"I know honey. I know," He murmured, gently rubbing circles onto her back as Gracie held her. "Daddy make it better okay."

Finally when she was calm enough he picked up his stethoscope and placed in gently to Sky's back, listening to her lungs.

"Gracie can you turn her to face me?" He asked. His wife turned Sky, earning another whine, but Shawn was quick to make her laugh, sticking his tongue out at her as he sat and listened.

He was quick to finish the rest of the exam, listening to her heart, looking in her nose, throat and ears before finally taking her temperature.

"All done princess." He smiled at his daughter, while showing his wife the thermometer which read 104. He and Gracie shared a worried glance as Sky held her arms out, making grabby hands at her father, Shawn not hesitating to take the small girl again.

"Someone's popular!" Gracie laughed as Sky rested her head on her father's chest.

"What do ya think it is?" Gracie asked watching as her daughter drifted in and out of sleep, moving restlessly on her husband's lap.

"I'm fairly certain it's just some sort of tummy bug she's picked up from kindy,"Shawn replied as he stroked his thumb down the side of his daughter's face. Nothing major, but I really want to get some medicine in her system to break this fever. If it doesn't break by morning I'll take her in to see Connor," He added, referring to one of his colleagues, and the only one he trusted with his daughter's health.

Half an hour later they'd somehow convinced Shy to take the dose of Tylenol, the ice-pack resting on her forehead as she slept peacefully in her father's arms in her bed, Gracie asleep in the across the room Shawn having managed to let him take 'this shift' though Gracie didn't need to know that her husband had no intentions of letting her be stuck awake with their daughter any longer. He knew she was exhausted and needed sleep.

Shawn wasnt overly concerned, pleased that she was getting the rest she needed, however this was broken and the two parents were on high alert once more as Sky began moving, twisting in her father's soft grasp and whimpering in her sleep.

"Sky?" Shawn spoke softly so as not to scare her. Her small eyes opened immediately whelling with tears alarming Shawn. Gracie rushed over from the rocking chair- tripping sleepily on Shawn's bag which lay in the same spot as earlier- where she had been sleeping uncomfortsbly, trying in vein to help. "What's wrong Sky?" Shawn asked again."Sick," She groaned and before either Shawn or Gracie had a chance to react she had thrown up- all over the bed, herself and Shawn , wailing as she realised what she'd done.

"SSH, it's okay bubba," Shawn tried to calm the child down as he wiped some of the sick from his sweat pants.

"Go and get changed, I'll bathe her and change the sheets," Gracie sighed, stiffling a laugh as she took in her husband. Even in this state he STILL managed to look hot. How he did it, she didn't know.

Shawn nodded greatfully, getting up and leaving his wife to deal with the remaining mess.

By the time Shawn returned, doning a fresh set of sleepwear, his hair slightly damp from the shower he had been forced to take, his little girl was laughing. And not just a little bit, she was laughing hysterically at something.

",What's so funny?" He inquired only getting more laughter. It was another two minutes before Gracie pulled herself together enough to explain.

" Sky was laughing at having vomitted on Daddy,clearly the shock of the situation has warn off," She grinned.

"So youre laughing at Daddy getting puke on me?" Shawn smiled shaking his head. "You're puke I might add," he shock his head as his daughter giggled even more.

"I'm glad she seems to be feeling a bit brighter, Shawn spoke softly to his wife as they watched as their little girl, calmed, going from laughing hysterically to soft snores in no more than a minute and a half.

"I'd feel better if she was in our room tonight." He added.

"Me too, " Gracie agreed, watching as Shawn carefully picked up their sleep oh daughter.

"Apparently laughter is the best medicine." Shawn smiled down at his little girk, sound asleep in his arms.

"That it is." Gracie agreed, the two sharing a quick kiss, before the two made their way to their bedroom, their precious bundle cuddled up between them... A bucket sat at the side if the bed just in case.

[drawbauchery]

Two Of A Kind

(fic by cartoons-tothemoon)

Rico was, in many ways, comparable to a feral cat. He came and went as he pleased, he always came back with some sort of new scratch or bruise with no explanation, and he gave off the energy of some sort of dangerous, feral…Thing, despite being almost passive outside of combat situations.

However, similar to a feral cat, despite the threat of pain or personal injury, you couldn’t help wanting to pet it, or keep it around. Rico was scrappy, and to a lot of people, that was charming.

That was how Kowalski rationalized it anyhow.

Of course, nobody could guess that he’d be currently hooked up with the prince of a sovereign nature, but at this point, it was one of those things that might as well happen. If Skipper was allowed to have his weird homoerotic waltz with his frenemy and Private was allowed to clandestinely pine over Skipper the way he did, why not?

Of course, Kowalski wasn’t precisely sure what he was allowed. He was a man of science, of course, but was he not too flesh and blood, like his compatriots? His last relationship with Doris, “The Dolphin” as she was often called, had soured in a manner that he was still at least a little sore over, but surely enough time had passed for him to move past all this…Right?

It had been a slow day in the lab. Skipper told him that if anything else spontaneously combusted this week that he’d lose his microwave privileges, (which, on one hand, was fair, but on the other hand, was just sort of humiliating) so all he could do was sketch out vague models and schematics until night fell, which gave him some time to think about stuff he usually didn’t.

For instance, all of the…Whatever was going on as of late.

He knows it wasn’t always like this, but something had changed, and he had no idea what caused Skipper and Private to go from close friends to close friends with issues, or what caused his perception of Rico to shift from highly unstable maniac to highly unstable maniac with a heart of gold.

However, just as he thought he was making a connection between the several, loud, pounding knocks struck against the door to his lab, which practically caused him to jump out of his skin.

“I AM NEEDING OF YOUR HELP.”

“The door’s unlocked.” Kowalski called, yet still rising to his feet to open the door himself.

“THERE’S NO TIME, I NEED-“ the door opened, revealing Julien, who stopped yelling. “I need a doctor. You’re like a doctor, right?” Julien asked, looking a little more frantic than usual, his hair spiking up in stress.

“I….Guess?” Kowalski himself questioned. “I certainly have the most first aid training.” He turned back to the lab to grab his first aid kit. He hoped he’d have everything he’d need considering how often he had to use this thing as of late.

“Good enough.” Julien said, soothing his nerves by playing with his ponytail. As soon as Kowalski returned, he grabbed his arm in his, and began walking Kowalski down the hall. “It’s Rico.”

“Yeah, I figured.” Kowalski sighed.

“Really? That’s all you have to say? Are you sure you’re a doctor? Because your bedside manner is terrible.”

“I never claimed to be a doctor. What’s up with him?”

Julien froze, and turned to Kowalski, while smiling a sheepish smile. “You’re not going to tell the boss man about this, right?”

“No? Probably not?”

Julien continued his brisk pace at that.

“Good, because that guy just hates fun! I haven’t so much has ever seen him crack a smile! He’s such a bring-down. Anyhow, I mentioned to Rico a few days ago that I’d love to go dancing sometime, so we went out tonight,”

“It’s only 6…”

 “SO WE WENT OUT TONIGHT, and let me tell you it was banging!” Julien said, but his face seemed to fall as he approached his room, and held Kowalski’s arm tighter.

“Nobody there recognized me, but…A lot of people…Still wanted something from me…And…” Julien stopped walking entirely. They were just outside his door.

“I never felt so scared. Death didn’t even scare me, but this? This was…”

Kowalski was simultaneously terrified and calm. He never had to do this kind of comforting before, bringing someone down from a panic attack. “Deep breaths,” he said. “Deep breaths. You don’t have to say anymore.” He placed the hand that Julien claimed on the small of his back, as that was all the position would allow, and saw as he instantly relaxed.

“Rico took care of them. And then we came home.” Julien said, with a level of severity and seriousness never seen on the man. Julien opened the door to reveal Rico sitting on Julien’s bed, covered in various bruises and scratches and blood. Far too many to go unnoticed.

“Fists can only do so much against glass and knives and guns.” Julien murmured, he looked rather guilty at the thought that this was all his fault. A feeling Kowalski wasn’t even aware the foolish prince knew. A feeling welled up inside of Kowalski as he wished to hold and comfort the man he saw before him at this unexpected reveal of depth. He always thought of Julien as far too annoying and horny to deal with, but…Maybe he did contain some level of multitude within him. Maybe there was something more there to see. This fascinated him.

Of course, this reverie would not last long.

“Are you trying to sew your wounds closed with dental floss?”

“It’s, uh, c-c-cleaner than the th-thread I k-keep in my p-pocket.” Rico shrugged, then winced.

Kowalski sighed, and made his way towards the bed. He popped open the first aid kit, and delicately took the arm Rico was hastily trying to stitch up on his own. The wound looked rather deep, like if the knife had been at a different angle, he’d be in a rather different place right now. However, he was here.

“Your stitches are so sloppy…”

“Y-Yeah, well, y-you try sewing in a t-taxi cab s-sometime.”

“I’m probably going to have to pull them out. You’re rather lucky that your other injuries aren’t very serious.” Kowalski looked up, seeing Julien nibbling his lip in the corner, looking almost as bad as Rico, emotionally.  

���Julien?” He perked his head up at the sound of his own name. “Could you get me an ice pack if you would? He’ll need it for his black eye.” Julien nodded, walking out of the room at a relatively fast speed, leaving the two alone.

“I’ll probably sew the new stitches in first, then we can loosen your floss stitches so we don’t have to worry about the wound being reopened…” Kowalski muttered, not to anybody in particular, but Rico was there for it.

“Ar-are you going to t-tell Skipper?”

“Julien already asked.”

“And?”

“I don’t see why I would.” Kowalski shrugged, taking out some anti-septic wipes to dress his other wounds. “You were just doing your job.”

“W-What?”

“Julien told me. You defended him against some guys in a club? It seemed rather…Chivalrous of you.” Kowalski choked.

“Ch-Chivalrous, huh?”

“Don’t get any ideas.” Kowalski said, trying to stop something before it started. “I just wish you two were more careful.”

“Awww, y-you c-care about us.” Rico smirked, leaning in for effect. Kowalski could feel the room getting rather hot, and not just because he wore a sweater all the time. Kowalski decided to take the bait this one time, just to throw him off his game.

“Yeah, I do. I care about all of you, a lot. It’s just that the others aren’t actively throwing themselves into danger at a moment’s notice. The others aren’t trying to steal aspirin trucks or get on Skipper’s bad side. You are.”

Kowalski took the moment to straighten his posture on the bed, and tug on a bandage for harder than he necessarily needed to do.

“You don’t value your own life enough for you to be doing all you do. Is it too much to ask for a little self preservation from you?”

Rico was speechless. It was…All rather strange, to have to listen to Kowalski talk like this. They weren’t what you would call the most open with their feelings, and considering the face Kowalski made before he launched into this tirade, he was just doing this to throw off his flirting. However, it worked, he sounded genuinely worried, and it legitimately made Rico feel…Bad. He felt bad for making Kowalski feel bad, because Kowalski was always…There. Not like, on his side all the time, but there. He was present. Comforting isn’t how he would describe his presence, but he found comfort within it. If he wasn’t there, things would just feel off and bad. Rico couldn’t help but wonder if that’s how Kowalski thought of things.

“S-sorry.”

Kowalski sighed. He sounded tired. Julien knocked quietly on the door as he rushed to hand Kowalski the freezing cold ice pack for Rico’s shiner. He thanked him kindly, and with that, he was finally able to move on to the process of actually stitching up Rico’s wound, as all other trivialities that drew Kowalski’s eyes were addressed. It was a rather calming process actually, as Julien sat beside Rico as Kowalski did his work, quietly watching.

When he finished his labor, he received a fist-bump from Rico, and a hug from Julien.

“I thank you a million times over!”

Kowalski hesitantly patted Julien’s back. “Yes, yes. Of course. Just remember that I’ll need to remove the stitches in the next two weeks and-“

Julien sobbed a little into his chest, and Kowalski leaned more into the hug as he held him tight and let go soon afterwards.

“Hey, everything’s going to be alright. You can remove most of the bandages in two hours, and if Skipper asks, Rico got in a fight with the feral cats in the alley again.”

“Those g-guys are j-jerks.” Rico muttered, and that was when he realized how long he was holding his boyfriend, while he was crying about his boyfriend.

“You’re two of a kind.” Kowalski smiled, which made Julien smile as he turned back to his boyfriend to make fun of his little pout. Kowalski’s smile grew somber, as for a moment, he realized that he’d thought that…Maybe, he was allowed “this,” whatever “this” may be, but the last thing he’d want to do is spoil their fun, and that was the last thing he was considered.

He packed up his first aid kit again as Julien peppered Rico’s face with kisses, and made his way for the door.

“Hey ‘walski. D-Don’t burn that m-midnight oil, huh?” Rico remarked, winking. Julien stopped his onslaught of affection to catch Kowalski running out of the room, cheeks burning, and his boyfriend’s own smug, slightly soft reaction.

“So, what did you guys talk about while I was gone?”

“K-Kowalski said that he l-loved us.” Rico replied, batting his eyelashes and leaning in close to Julien before he got hit in the face with a pillow, knocking him to the floor.”

“He did not!” Julien laughed.

“He d-did!”

“Not!”

“Did!”

“Not! I don’t believe it!” He smiled, not in a cruel way, but something that said that he was also a little soft for the strangely uptight man.

“Hmmm.” Rico hummed, quizzically. “I g-guess you’ll h-have to wait and s-see.”

“And I guess you will too.”

(This was supposed to be your typical fanfic set-up of one character patching the other’s wounds, all the while scolding the other for their wrecklessness. I’m a sucker for that. I would’ve done it as Skipper/Private if I could figure out who was going to be who, but this was also a lot of fun!! I can’t believe I haven’t written for these guys yet. I hope you enjoy!)