#Hydrogen stations near me

[greysapps]

Hydrogen stations near me

HYDROGEN STATIONS NEAR ME DRIVERS

HYDROGEN STATIONS NEAR ME DRIVER

Currently there are no hydrogen fuel-cell vehicles or fueling stations in Vermont, but Vermont Clean Cities is seeking ways to incorporate the use of hydrogen into the state’s transportation sector. Download the Shell App Find my nearest Hydrogen fueling station. In addition, 12 retail stations are planned for the northeastern states, with some of those already serving fleet customers. Visit a Shell retail hydrogen refuelling station to experience the future of fuel and. As of mid-2019, there were 40 retail hydrogen stations open to the public in California and 20 more in various stages of construction or planning. Vehicles such as the Toyota Mirai and the Honda Clarity are some of the first hydrogen fuel cell vehicles on the mainstream market.Ĭalifornia is leading the nation in funding and building hydrogen fueling stations for FCEVs. In general, fuel cells are similar to batteries however, they do not need recharging and will continue to produce energy as long as it is being supplied. Research and commercial efforts are under way to expand the limited hydrogen fueling infrastructure and increase the production of FCEVs.

HYDROGEN STATIONS NEAR ME DRIVERS

Currently, drivers of light-duty fuel cell electric vehicles (FCEVs) can fuel up at retail stations in less than 5 minutes and obtain a driving range of more than 300 miles. “I’d say there’s going to be a lot of hydrogen and a lot of battery electric, so that ship has definitely not sailed,” he said.Hydrogen, when used in a fuel cell to provide electricity, is an emissions-free alternative fuel produced from diverse energy sources. And, Armstrong said, hydrogen is the most promising option for light trucks and heavy-duty vehicles, which will spur on more hydrogen fuelling infrastructure in the market. “There’s still 98 per cent of the market that’s available,” he said.īattery electric cars are ideal for people who can charge up at home overnight and make mostly shorter trips, but a hydrogen vehicle can refuel in just a few minutes before getting back on the road. H2ME is a flagship project giving fuel cell electric vehicle (FCEV) drivers access to the first truly pan-European network of hydrogen refuelling stations. Natural Resources Canada and the province are both supplying funding for the station in a step towards greenhouse gas reduction targets.īattery electric vehicles have seen the most take-up in the market for zero-emission vehicles so far, Armstrong conceded, but as government regulations and consumer demand ensure the obsolescence of gasoline and diesel engines, hydrogen will have its place. NYC DOT, with input from Con Edison, selects curbside locations based on. “I think the goal is to probably have closer to 200 by the end of the year,” he said. Level 2 charging stations allow EV owners to charge their vehicles while parked. The Toyota dealer in the Northshore Auto Mall has a new hydrogen Mirai on the lot, listed for just over $73,000, and more models from other manufacturers are on the way, Armstrong said. There are currently only “a little over 30” hydrogen vehicles in the Lower Mainland that will be able to top up at the station, but that’s about to change, Armstrong said. “It’s coming on fast and we’re trying to wrap it up as fast as we can,” he said. Victoria’s first hydrogen station is now under construction and Kelowna is next on the list.

HYDROGEN STATIONS NEAR ME DRIVER

Filling up at the North Vancouver pump would allow a driver to get to Whistler or Tofino and back, Armstrong said. It is the third hydrogen fuelling station in the Lower Mainland to come online. Keeping a car running on the lightest element on the periodic table will cost $12 per hundred kilometres – about the same as gasoline – but the only emission from the tailpipe is water vapour. does not provide information on the current availability of a hydrogen station, but does provide a. Data is collected and updated continously from multiple sources on a best effort basis. “It opens up for the whole North Shore clientele, which is a very target market for early adopters, so it is super exciting,” said Colin Armstrong, HTEC CEO. LBST has operated the database since 2005, offering the most comprehensive information on hydrogen refuelling stations worldwide. The company behind the pump is North Van hydrogen tech pioneer HTEC. core market areas and in strategic locations to enable statewide and vacation travel. The first filling station for hydrogen fuel cell vehicles has now opened at the Westview Shopping Centre 7-Eleven. Filling up at a charging or hydrogen fueling station is not that. North Vancouver has entered the hydrogen age. Hydrogen is at the heart of the clean transport revolution.As a precursor of hydrogen mobility, Air Liquide, through its Hydrogen Energy activity, has been using its existing industrial facilities, technologies and expertise to develop applications for transportation and in particular hydrogen stations for over 20 years. Air Liquide & Toyota partnering to build 12 retail hydrogen stations in the Northeast.

[run-aled]

RED VALLEY: WHILE YOU WERE HYPERSLEEPING 2

(transcript)

GORDON PORLOCK, AT HIS DESK IN THE RECORDS ROOM. IT IS LATE, HE IS ANXIOUS. BUT QUIET, BUT TONED DOWN. HE IS TRYING TO REMAIN CALM.

GORDON: Gordon Porlock, personal log. So, it turns out I'm not alone. Aubrey Wood is outside. Hiding in a camper van. We spoke a couple of hours ago over the comm Warren left her.

GORDON: I have no idea if I can trust this person. I've listened to the recording Warren gave me over and over but...I don't know. I can't think of any reason you'd go through what she's now going through unless you were sincere about trying to put something right. But then, my only friend is an amnesiac criminal whose fake wife threatened to cut my skull open with a bone saw the other week. There's a chance I'm not a great judge of character.

GORDON: We didn't talk very long. We weren't sure what to say to each other. Weird thing is that we haveactually spoken before. A lot. Online, a few years ago when I first heard the rumours about Red Valley. It was Aubrey. She was the source who first started getting me information. I think she thought telling me that would break the ice...If anything it made it more awkward to talk over the comm. I sound much cooler when you can't hear my voice.

GORDON: Aubrey told me a lot of wild stuff about Overhead back then. It's what got me hooked on Red Valley, on cryonics, in the first place. The utter madness of it all. The man who started it all was one of the founders of the company in the 70s, Malcolm Landry. He was the first head of R&D. To begin with it was all above board, boring cryogenics work on plants and amphibians. Aubrey's convinced he's behind everything that happens after that, but his name is nowhere near any of it. He's still at the company now though, on the board of directors.

PAUSE.

GORDON: It didn't take many years for Overhead's work to get grisly. Testing extreme temperature endurance on the homeless in the 80s. Igniting a vat of hydrogen sulphide that blew up an entire cohort of test subjects in North Wales in the 90s. And then…this place. So, I thought, I've finally got the whole archive here. Going through all this is what Bryony asked me to do anyway. And if I can corroborate what Aubrey told me with what's in here, then maybe that's a step closer to trusting her. I mean...I assume half of it isn't true.

CUT. TIME HAS PASSED. GORDON DUMPS A BUNCH OF DOCUMENTS DOWN ON THE TABLE HARD.

GORDON: Nope. It's all true. All of it. Here's a cutting of Malcolm Landry in 1972 barking on about suspended animation and how we're doomed to repeat our mistakes unless we 'harness the wisdom from past generations'. Here's a note from the lead scientist of those experiments on the homeless. Oh, good God. 'The vagabonds are a surprisingly cheerful bunch, which has made the liquid nitrogen immersion far less tedious than one might have anticipated.' Fuck.

A QUICK GULP OF TEA AS HE RIFLES THROUGH MORE DOCUMENTS,

GORDON: Photos of the burned down research station in Wales. The guy in charge of that one was so desperate to protect his work, he shot five members of the local volunteer fire service with a hunting rifle as they tried to put out the blaze and then injected himself with his own infusion.

HE TOSSES THE PHOTOS BACK DOWN.

GORDON: Here's my take on why cryonic preservation has been such a total bust (until Warren, obviously). It's not because the concept is ridiculous. Fringe science begets fringe scientists. Narcissists, control freaks, God complexes. Those are your entry level traits. It's not a long walk to get to sociopathy, psychopathy, and well, straight up Dark Lord of the Sith. In the end, it doesn't matter how gifted they are or what results they get. Maniacs gonna maniac.

PAUSE AS GORDON SEES SOMETHING IN THE PHOTOS. HE SCATTERS OTHER PAPERS OUT OF THE WAY AS HE SCRUTINIZES SOMETHING.

GORDON: Wait. Is that - no fucking way-

CUT TO: GORDON PACING THE SPACE, SERIOUS, TRYING TO REMAIN CALM.

GORDON: Here's a fun wrinkle. So, the brazen shithead running the homeless experiments disappears from the story once the project yields no decent data. Until you look at the photos of the victims in the Wales station fire 10 years later. He is one of the bloody test subjects. They turned the lead scientist on one project into a Guinea pig in the next.

HE STOPS. GOES BACK TO THE DESK, LEAFS THROUGH MORE PAPERS ANXIOUSLY.

GORDON: Which begs the question, what happened to the guy with the hunting rifle? Wait, what was his name? Umm... Hansmann. Alexander Hansmann. Where did I see that -

CUT AS GORDON MARCHES BACK TO THE ARCHIVE. CUT TO GORDON BACK AT HIS DESK, NOW STILL AND REFLECTIVE AFTER HIS EVENING OF NERVOUS ENERGY.

GORDON: So… here is where the past arrives unpleasantly at the present. At my present. To Red Valley being active as the new home of cryonic research. Before any Teddy Bears, before Warren Godby. Some dissection and analysis carried out on a selection of frozen internal organs. All clearly labelled. See… I thought Hansmann was the name of the physician who harvested them. No, he's the bloody subject. Their analysis was the first duty of the newly appointed cryonics lead. Doctor Bryony Halbech.

HE TAKES A BEAT.

GORDON: It's hard not to look back at Malcolm Landry's words about being doomed to repeat yourself and think, yeah, no shit. You hire lunatics, expect lunacy. I guess recycling your lead scientists is economical. Creates a tidy little closed loop. Once you've started cannibalising your own staff though, where does that leave you? Where next can you turn?

PAUSE. GORDON THINKS.

GORDON: Bryony knows everything I learned here tonight. She knows how Overhead treat their own people. Does she even need it archived, or did she just want to show me? To show me who she is. Show me what she can do.

ANOTHER PAUSE. GORDON SNAPS OUT OF HIS REVERIE AND STARTS SCOOPING UP DOCUMENTS AND PUTTING THEM BACK IN A BOX.

GORDON: Aubrey's stories match up at least. And if all of this is anything to go by, she might be the only person involved in this research that's ever managed to escape it. And she's come back. She's come back to stop it. I guess...I guess that's not nothing.

HE SEALS A LID ON THE BOX.

GORDON: Warren, I hope they wake you up soon. We need to talk.

END.

[charsau]

Medical Cleaning Services Near Me

Medical cleaning services are a great way to make sure that your office or hospital is in good shape. In addition to making sure that your patients and employees can enjoy a clean and sanitary environment, medical cleaning services near me can also reduce the amount of bacteria and germs in your building.

Aseptic medical cleaning reduces microbial levels

One of the best ways to prevent infections is to maintain a clean environment. Aseptic medical cleaning is an important component of this. It involves the application of a series of strict rules and regulations to reduce the likelihood of infection.

The most important component of aseptic medical cleaning is the removal of microbes. Although bacteria can be helpful for humans, they can also lead to infections. Proper hand hygiene and use of alcohol-based hand sanitizers are essential for maintaining a sanitary environment.

Aseptic medical cleaning also includes other important steps. These include sanitization, barrier procedures, and contact guidelines.

Sanitizing, for example, involves removing microbial agents using chemical disinfectants. This can kill bacterial spores and some fungi. But it cannot kill viruses or mycobacteria.

Cost of hiring a commercial cleaning company for a medical office

You might think that hiring a medical office commercial cleaning company will cost a lot more than a regular cleaning service, but in fact, the costs are much more affordable. This is because medical facilities require more specialized cleaning needs, as well as higher levels of sanitization.

Medical offices are a highly sensitive environment, and they need to be kept clean and sanitary to keep harmful microorganisms from spreading. An experienced and knowledgeable medical office cleaner can prevent cross-contamination, which can lead to the spread of diseases.

The price for medical office cleaning services can vary widely, depending on the size of the facility, the frequency of the cleaning, and the level of cleaning required. Some cleaning companies will charge per square foot, while others will charge by the hour.

Hospital cleaning services deal with all kinds of bacteria and germs

Cleaning is essential to maintaining any type of medical facility. Patients and visitors are more likely to contract infections if they are surrounded by dirty or contaminated spaces. A professional cleaning service can help keep your medical center clean and safe for everyone.

The right cleaning products and techniques can help eliminate germs and bacteria from your facilities. Some of the most common disinfectants include hydrogen peroxide, bleach, and ammonium compounds. It's also important to use gloves when using cleaning products.

Another effective way to prevent the spread of pathogens is to have handwashing stations. These can be found on almost any door in the hospital. Handwashing is especially important in areas where the likelihood of contamination is high. Using disinfectants and sanitizers can help minimize these risks.

Professional medical office cleaning companies are mindful of patients' schedules

If you're in the medical industry, you know that maintaining a clean, sanitary environment is important. Not only is a clean facility beneficial for your patients, it also helps to ensure your business's reputation. A dirty or unsanitary facility can make your patients feel vulnerable and may even cause them to spread infection to others.

A professional medical office cleaning service will know how to clean your office to keep it germ-free. They can also help you get the most out of your cleaning budget.

The first thing to think about when choosing a medical office cleaning service is whether it will be able to accommodate your needs. Medical offices are typically very large and require more time to thoroughly clean. In addition, you'll need to consider how often your office will need to be cleaned. Some companies will charge you per square foot, while others will charge per hour.

[cpm-ltd]

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[nasa]

NASA Photographers Share Their Favorite Photos of the SLS Moon Rocket

NASA’s Space Launch System (SLS) rocket is on the launch pad at NASA’s Kennedy Space Center in Florida and in final preparations for the Artemis I mission to the Moon. Now that our Moon rocket is almost ready for its debut flight, we wanted to take a look back at some of the most liked photographs of our SLS rocket coming together over the years.

We asked NASA photographers to share their favorite photos of the SLS rocket for Artemis I at different phases of testing, manufacturing, and assembly. Here are their stories behind the photos:

“On this day in March 2018, crews at NASA’s Marshall Space Flight Center in Huntsville, Alabama, transported the intertank structural test article off NASA’s Pegasus barge to the Load Test Annex test facility for qualification testing.” —Emmett Given, photographer, NASA’s Marshall Space Flight Center

“This is the liquid oxygen tank structural test article as it was moved from the Pegasus barge to the West Test Area at our Marshall Space Flight Center on July 9, 2019. The tank, which is structurally identical to its flight version, was subsequently placed in the test stand for structural testing several days later. I remember it being a blazing hot day!” —Fred Deaton, photographer, NASA’s Marshall Space Flight Center

“The large components of the SLS rocket’s core stage can make you forget that there are many hands-on tasks required to assemble a rocket, too. During the mating of the liquid hydrogen tank to the forward section of the rocket’s 212-foot-tall core stage in May 2019, technicians fastened 360 bolts to the circumference of the rocket. Images like this remind me of all the small parts that have to be installed with care, expertise, and precision to create one huge Moon rocket. Getting in close to capture the teammates that work tirelessly to make Artemis a success is one of the best parts of my job.” —Eric Bordelon, photographer, NASA’s Michoud Assembly Facility

“An incredible amount of precision goes into building a rocket, including making sure that each of our SLS rocket’s four RS-25 engines is aligned and integrated into the core stage correctly. In this image from October 2019, I attempted to illustrate the teamwork and communication happening as technicians at NASA’s Michoud Assembly Facility in New Orleans do their part to help land the first woman and the first person of color on the Moon through the Artemis missions. It’s rare to see the inside of a rocket – not as much for the NASA and Boeing engineers who manufacture and assemble a rocket stage!” —Jared Lyons, photographer, NASA’s Michoud Assembly Facility

“When the fully assembled and completed core stage left the Michoud factory in January 2020, employees took a “family photo” to mark the moment. Crews transported the flight hardware to NASA’s Pegasus barge on Jan. 8 in preparation for the core stage Green Run test series at NASA’s Stennis Space Center near Bay St. Louis, Mississippi. When I look at this photo, I am reminded of all of the hard work and countless hours the Michoud team put forth to build this next-generation Moon rocket. I am honored to be part of this family and to photograph historic moments like this for the Artemis program.” —Steven Seipel, MAF multimedia team lead, NASA’s Michoud Assembly Facility

“This photo shows workers at Stennis prepare to lift the SLS core stage into the B-2 Test Stand for the SLS Green Run test series in the early morning hours of Jan. 22, 2020. I started shooting the lift operation around midnight. During a break in the action at about 5:30 a.m., I was driving my government vehicle to the SSC gas station to fuel up, when I saw the first light breaking in the East and knew it was going to be a nice sunrise. I turned around and hurried back to the test stand, sweating that I might run out of gas. Luckily, I didn’t run out and was lucky enough to catch a beautiful Mississippi sunrise in the background, too.” —Danny Nowlin, photographer, NASA’s Stennis Space Center

“I like the symmetry in the video as it pushes toward the launch vehicle stage adapter. Teams at NASA’s Marshall Space Flight Center in Huntsville, Alabama, loaded the cone-shaped piece of flight hardware onto our Pegasus barge in July 2020 for delivery to NASA’s Kennedy Space Center in Florida. The one-point perspective puts the launch vehicle stage adapter at the center of attention, but, if you pay attention to the edges, you can see people working. It gives a sense of scale. This was the first time I got to walk around Pegasus and meet the crew that transport the deep space rocket hardware, too.” —Sam Lott, videographer, SLS Program at Marshall Space Flight Center

“This was my first time photographing a test at our Stennis Space Center, and I wasn't sure what to expect. I have photographed big events like professional football games, but I wasn't prepared for the awesome power unleashed by the Space Launch System’s core stage and four RS-25 engines during the Green Run hot fire test. Watching the sound wave ripple across the tall grass toward us, feeling the shock wave of ignition throughout my whole body, seeing the smoke curling up into the blue sky with rainbows hanging from the plume; all of it was as unforgettable as watching a football player hoist a trophy into the air.” —Michael DeMocker, photographer, NASA’s Michoud Assembly Facility

“When our SLS Moon rocket launches the agency’s Artemis I mission to the Moon, 10 CubeSats, or small satellites, are hitching a ride inside the rocket’s Orion stage adapter (OSA). BioSentinel is one of those CubeSats. BioSentinel’s microfluidics card, designed at NASA’s Ames Research Center in California’s Silicon Valley, will be used to study the impact of interplanetary space radiation on yeast. To me, this photo is a great combination of the scientific importance of Artemis I and the human touch of more than 100 engineers and scientists who have dedicated themselves to the mission over the years.” —Dominic Hart, photographer, NASA’s Ames Research Center

“I was in the employee viewing area at Kennedy when the integrated SLS rocket and Orion spacecraft was rolled out to the launchpad for its wet dress rehearsal in March 2022. I really like this photo because the sun is shining on Artemis I like a spotlight. The giant doors of the Vehicle Assembly Building are the red curtain that opened up the stage -- and the spotlight is striking the SLS because it’s the star of the show making its way to the launchpad. I remember thinking how cool that NASA Worm logo looked as well, so I wanted to capture that. It was so big that I had to turn my camera sideways because the lens I had wasn’t big enough to capture the whole thing.” —Brandon Hancock, videographer, SLS Program at NASA’s Marshall Space Flight Center

“I made this image while SLS and Orion atop the mobile launcher were nearing the end of their four-mile trek to the pad on crawler-transporter 2 ahead of launch. Small groups of employees were filtering in and out of the parking lot by the pad gate to take in the sight of the rocket’s arrival. The “We Are Going!” banner affixed to the gate in the foreground bears the handwritten names of agency employees and contractors who have worked to get the rocket and spacecraft ready for the Artemis I flight test. As we enter the final days before launch, I am proud to have made my small contribution to documenting the historic rollout for this launch to the Moon.” —Joel Kowsky, photographer, NASA Headquarters

More Photo-worthy Moments to Come!

NASA photographers will be on the ground covering the Artemis I launch. As they do, we’ll continue to share their photos on our official NASA channels.

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!

[nackrosor]

~September 29, 1998~

Leon S. Kennedy x fem! Reader [one-shot]

warnings: nsfw, smut, p*rn with plot/p*rn with feelings, angst, panic attack

synopsis: You've been rescued by Leon when you were running from the zombies near the police station and now wander through the hallways in his company. Surviving the night seems a mirage but can the young cop restore your hope?

words count: +8,2k

[this story takes place during the events of Resident Evil 2]

(a/n): Okay so, the idea of this story came up to me all of a sudden during a fever. It's quite long and disgustingly hot, but also tender and just a tiny bit sad. Let me emphasise; DISGUSTINGLY HOT. Like, I've been dying several times while writing it. What a self-inflicted torture, oof. I wrote it with the 2019 version of Leon in mind but you can read it by imagining any other version of him. I just think this version is the most adorable one; he's a cinnamon roll, ugh.

-

Raccoon City - September 29, 1998

You collapsed against the wall and slumped on the floor, breathing hard, heart pulsating in your head. Every part of your body ached with fatigue and the open wounds, still dirty and untreated stinged like crazy. You clutched your left arm, hissing through your teeth and repressing a groan as you tried to check just how bad that motherfucker got you. You let him get too fucking close and as a consequence, you almost lost your arm. If it wasn't for the cop's quick thinking, you would have been clutching air right now, or worse, you could be dead, a corpse left in its puddle of blood for the delight of those ugly rotting monsters.

The sound of the door being locked startled you and you raised your head, only to be greeted by the panicked face of a breathless Leon. He instantly knelt down next to you and scanned your face and limbs for injuries, stopping on the ugly wound on your arm. He hissed a curse through his teeth and promptly checked his waist bag for a first aid kit.

"I have to stitch that up before you lose too much blood."

You lightly nodded your head in defeat, knowing much well how that would hurt but he was right; left untreated that wound would drain you dry.

He gently squeezed your other shoulder and smiled knowingly at you.

"I'll try to be quick."

He took the hydrogen peroxide from his bag and cleaned the area, then clutched the needle in his fingers and took a deep breath before making quick work of stitching the skin back together. His skilled fingers were fast and gentle. He peeked at you from time to time, eyebrows furrowing with worry seeing you blacking out and regaining conscience only to pass out again for the excruciating pain.

"Hold on, Y/N. Don't die on me", he whispered, cupping your cheek. You could see the concern in his eyes, the hurt even. You wanted to reply, thanking him for everything he did for you that evening; from letting you enter the police station to saving you numerous times both from the zombies and that awfully huge man that was after you. Your lips however barely twitched and you felt your eyelids drop and blackness engulf you.

When you eventually regained conscience, blinking a few times before you could recognize your surroundings, you gladly noticed how the pain in your arm had subsided and now felt almost bearable. You also noticed an unfamiliar coat wrapped around you and a feeble smile curved up your lips at the thought of Leon finding that coat for you after he tended to your wound. You tried to move but instantly let out a groan; your entire body still ached for the messed up day you had endured.

"Jesus Christ", you hissed, pulling on a lever coming out off the wall on your side, putting all your strength in your barely sane arm, unwillingly to give up just yet.

At the sound of your voice, Leon popped out from the corner of the wall at your right and he immediately dropped down on one knee beside you, wrapping the fallen coat back around your torso.

"Don't move yet, Y/N! You have to rest." He said in a calm but stern tone. His gaze lingered on your face and his lips curved up in a small smile. "I'm glad you're back. You had me worried for a couple of hours."

"A couple of hours?! I've been out for that long?!" you gaped at him in shock. He moved a finger on his lips, beckoning you to lower down your voice but kept smiling as he nodded.

"Well," you whispered, moving your right hand on the side of your lower back to soothe the sore muscle, "no wonder my ass aches more than my arm, right now."

Your statement brought out a chuckle from him and he shook his head, recovering the once again fallen coat but refraining from laying it back over your frame.

"I guess you could get back on your feet with my help." he said, then nodded his head toward the other side of the room, "and make use of that soft looking armchair."

You followed the direction of his nod and gaped at the armchair then back at him, your eyes questioning. You didn't notice it before, when you entered the room. Well, it was quite hard to notice anything in your condition, still panicking for that man you were running from. Sitting on that chair instead of the floor, however, would have been way better.

He chuckled again. "I brought it here from the office at the end of the hall when you were asleep. I didn't want to risk waking you up so I just put it there for later use."

You couldn't refrain from blushing a bit and lowered your head to cover your face from his gaze. He was being so considerate of you. Of a stranger, nonetheless.

"You didn't have to... you could have risked your life." you looked back at him, your smile faltering at the thought of him being hurt or worse, dying because of you.

His confident gaze pierced yours, a lovely smile still clinging onto his lips. "I thought you would be happy to sit on something comfortable, for once." His eyes dwelled on your face for a moment longer before he stood up. "I was searching for other materials, anyway. I came through the office and that armchair just screamed, help me! Take me back with you! I couldn't just leave it there, could I?"

You shook your head as your smile widened. "Of course not. That would have been rude and waaaay out of character for you."

Leon playfully winked at you and extended both his hands toward you. "So, do you want to give your poor ass a break?"

"Hell yes!" you chuckled wholeheartedly, taking his hands and letting him carefully pull you up.

Finally back on your feet you wobbled a little, apparently oblivious of how to properly stabilize your weight, but Leon was there to sustain you, hands grabbing firmly but gently your forearms and you leaned on him for help, not without feeling your cheeks burning for the closeness of your bodies.

"Thank you" you whispered, as he carefully helped you take a few steps toward the chair and stretch your sore limbs.

"Your legs have a lot of scratches and bruises, that's another reason why you're having a hard time walking properly." He said, hands still sustaining your body, "I took care of them as well."

"Geez, I'm in that bad of a state?"

Leon squeezed your sane arm, giving you a reassuring smile, "I bet you'll be good in no time."

You sighed and nodded, taking a few other steps with his support, slowly regaining your balance, until, a couple of minutes later, you could walk somewhat normally on your own.

"Okay so, now what?" you asked, looking up at Leon as you leaned on the side of the armchair, absentmindedly rubbing the dirty but soft velvety skin of the dark brown leather.

"Now you stay here and rest a bit longer, while I go check what's the status out there."

You stiffened, worry filling your every nerve. The thought of Leon going back out there, alone, made you shiver.

"I'm coming with you!"

Leon gave you an admonishing look, sighing at the sight of you walking up to him, body covered with more gauze than clothes. "That's not an option, Y/N."

"I won't let you go out there alone. Not again. Not now that I'm back on my feet." You stared at him with incredible resolution in your eyes and he sighed again, double checking your frame for the last time. You weren't fully recovered yet, but you could walk and probably run too. You already looked way better than before.

"Alright, alright. But stay close to me! And if I see you having a hard time keeping up, we're coming back here." His voice was stern but you knew he was just being considerate of your situation. He didn't want you to get hurt again, but you didn't want him to get hurt either.

"Got it." you nodded once, straightening your back.

Leon disappeared behind the wall for a couple of minutes, rummaging through the contents of a container then approached you again, a small gun in his hand. "Take it. You can't walk these halls without protection any longer."

You took it in your hands, feeling its weight and texture under your fingertips. You never ever owned a weapon, you had no idea what type of gun that was or how to use it, but you clutched it tightly in your hand and instantly felt like you could do anything. You didn't want to disappoint Leon.

Leon watched you attentively, probably presuming -correctly- that it was your first time carrying a weapon and refrained from adding anything else.

"I hope you'll never have to use it." He whispered after a moment, as talking to himself, then turned around and approached the door. He threw one last look at you over his shoulder.

"You ready?"

You firmly nodded.

Leon opened the door, pushing it lightly to take a cautious look outside. You peeked behind his shoulders, the halls looked empty.

"Let's go."

He stepped out the room and moved aside, waiting for you to pass before he closed the door just as cautiously.

You moved through a bunch of corridors surprisingly without bumping into any of those monsters. You started to relax, the tension you were carrying on your shoulders subsided and you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding.

"Did you kill everybody while I was out?" you ironically asked in a whisper, lowering your weapon.

Leon briefly glimpsed at you, "don't let your guard down, yet."

You raised your gun again, keeping it at eye level but you didn't feel in danger, as strange as it might sound. For the first time since you came into the station, you could walk through the halls and rooms without feeling the breath of that man on your neck. For the first time you could actually look around and appreciate the paintings, the statues and all that remained from the old museum. Also, taking a quiet walk in Leon's company was a nice change from running panicked together from whatever would be chasing you.

You followed Leon inside the library only after he checked the room was secure. You smiled as you twirled around, moving from shelf to shelf, fingertips caressing the spine of any book that stood out to you.

"This place is amazing!" you exclaimed excitedly, casting a grateful look to Leon, who was still lingering next to the door, watching you move around with a little smile on his face. "Don't you love books? I do! And oh, I wish I could read each one of these."

Leon stepped forward toward a bookshelf and took a look at some of the book titles. "I'm sure these would turn out as a very boring read for you. There's not a single novel on these shelves."

"Well, I could go with boring right about now." You kept on moving from one shelf to another, disappearing from Leon's sight for a moment, before popping back out from the nearest bookshelf beside him. "Wouldn't you?"

Leon nodded gravely, a sad smile curving down his lips. You matched his expression and shared a moment in complete silence.

"We shouldn't stay here any longer." He said, clearing his voice and breaking eye contact, moving toward the door at the other side of the room. You sighed and followed him, casting one last longing look around you.

A loud crash stopped you in your tracks. It sounded like breaking glass and it came from the hallway, on the other side of the door in front of you. Another crash followed and the weird groans of those monsters soon filled your ears. You clutched tightly the gun in your trembling hands and hurriedly looked all around you, waiting for a horde of zombies to come inside at any moment. Leon stepped back, eyes dead set on the door.

"Turn around. We go out from where we came." He whispered in a hurried tone.

You instantly turned around and ran for the other door but once again, a loud noise brought you to a sudden stop. You immediately recognized the heavy footsteps echoing through the hallway and backed off in fear. You could feel a panic attack about to come and paralyze you on the spot, making you a very easy prey for the man who was about to come through that door, but a tug on your arm forced you to turn around. Leon's baby blue eyes locked with yours. You could see his mouth moving but no sound made it to your ears. His worried face and the sound of footsteps getting louder was all you could focus on at that moment. You felt something clasping your hand and tugging you forward. Your feet moved on their own and soon you found yourself running through a side door, out of the library and through a dark damp hallway.

Your head turned around involuntarily and you saw him. That monstrous man. He was walking after you, easily gaining on you with his long stride. Your eyes widened, your heart lost a heartbeat or two and you felt your legs wobbling and about to give up. You knew that was the end. You wouldn't survive another time. You couldn't avoid your fate this time. Your vision blurred as tears started filling your eyes. You just wanted this to end! You just wanted this fucking nightmare to end!

A strong arm enveloped your waist, you felt being pulled into something. Did the man just take you? Was he about to crash your body with his bare hands and throw your limp corpse away? Tears started falling from your eyes, sliding down your cheeks. You couldn't see anything, you couldn't hear anything.

A hand covered your mouth and another one cupped your cheek in a gentle, loving manner. Your body stiffened and you held your breath for a moment. As you squeezed and blinked your eyes to clear your vision, you gradually made out the silhouette of a familiar face. Big blue eyes locked with yours and a muted scream fled your mouth. Leon hushed you, his hand pressing harder on your lips. He cautiously looked around for a moment before lowering his gaze on your face once again.

"Breathe, Y/N. Breathe."

You did what you've been told to and gradually regained control over your body. Your injured arm hurt like hell and your back was sore once again. You noticed how you were pinned against a wall. In front of you and on the right, fallen shelves and other unrecognisable materials covered your spot. You were hiding. Hiding from the man. He didn't take you. He didn't even reach you. Leon found a well covered spot to hide. Leon saved you once again.

Your eyes moved back on your saviour's face. He was checking the hallway for any sight of the man or the zombies. You could admire his profile, his jawline, his nose. He was gorgeous. He really was. A strange warm feeling engulfed you from the inside, replacing the anxious and panicked sensation of a moment before. His eyes locked with yours again. You couldn't refrain yourself from smiling. What a change of course.

His eyebrows furrowed out of surprise and his hand slowly pulled away from your mouth.

"Y/N?" he called your name in a whisper, his eyes questioning, piercing into yours.

The warm feeling grew as you realised how close he was. His body was trapping yours against the wall. You were literally attached to one another. His face was only a few inches from yours, you could feel his cool breath on your flushed skin.

A barely audible moan escaped your lips, Leon's gaze fell on your parted lips. You could swear you saw his cheeks reddening but the hallway was very dark and only a flickering natural light reached Leon's face.

The air around you changed. Tension was buzzing between the two of you. What was happening? Did his face come closer? Or was it only your imagination?

His hand was still cupping your cheek, thumb delicately rubbing below your eye, wiping the last tears left hanging from your eyelashes. His other hand moved on the wall, just barely over your head. His body shifted, his weight pressing harder on you. Your head was starting to spin. His piercing blue eyes suddenly making your knees buckle. Or was it the tension from a few moments before finally getting to you? The rollercoaster of emotions drying your body of the only ounce of energy left?

Leon's face fell as he felt your body tremble under his. His hands promptly moved on your waist, sustaining you before you could collapse. "Y/N, please don't leave me. Stay awake."

"I'm- I'm okay. I think I just need to lay down a bit."

Leon nodded, squeezing your sides affectionately. His eyes quickly scanned your surroundings, making sure there was no monster in your proximity. The hallway looked clear, no sound coming from either side of the way.

"We can go now. The coast is clear. Can you walk?" he asked, his warm voice a soothing balm for your ears.

"Yeah, I can walk."

His hand held yours in a firm grip for the whole walk back to the room you left just half an hour before.

As soon as you arrived and the door was safely locked, you crashed down on the armchair, sighing satisfactorily at the soft embrace of the leather around your body. Leon double checked the lock on the door before turning toward you, taking a few steps in your direction.

"How are you feeling?"

"Way better", you whispered, eyes fluttering close for a moment as you took a deep breath.

"I'm glad to hear that."

Looking back at him you realised how tired he looked. His body must have been aching too because the way he was standing didn't look comfortable nor natural. Your brows furrowed and you swiftly moved on one side of the armchair, making just enough space beside you.

"Hey, come here. There's enough space for us both."

His gaze moved from your face to your hand patting the seat at your side. He hesitated for a moment, shifting his weight from one leg to the other, but then sighed, a smile tugging at his lips. He sat down next to you. Your bodies touched once again and you suddenly felt very conscious about it. You remembered the way your body was trapped under his and felt heat raising in your cheeks once again. You turned your head to the other side to mask your embarrassment.

"Are you alright?" he suddenly asked, concern audible in his voice.

"Yeah, uhm..." you tried to stabilize your breathing, eyes moving away from his face to linger on your hands clasped in your lap. "Leon, listen... I'm very sorry for what happened." His brows furrowed, eyes scanning your face.

"I'm sorry for how I reacted." you said, hanging your head in defeat. "I just panicked and shut down. I couldn't help you in any way. I also lost the gun!", you clenched your fists, anger inflaming you, "I've been a burden the whole time. And I was the one who asked to come with you! You were right! I shouldn't have left this freaking room. I put you in danger! I-"

His hand moved to cover yours as he shifted in his seat to face you. His other hand cupped your chin, raising it to be able to look at you in the eyes.

"Y/N, you shouldn't be so hard on yourself." His piercing eyes made your stomach flop.

"No, it's the truth. I'm weak and a coward and-"

He stopped you again, taking your hands in his and squeezed them. He shook his head.

"You are not weak and most certainly you are no coward. Why would you say that, Y/N? You weren't prepared for this, no one was. Not even myself. We're just reacting the best way we can. It's okay to cry, if you need to. It's natural to panic as self defence. It's understandable if you feel like this is too much for you. This is too much for me as well, you know? I'm trying to hang on. I'm doing my best to keep my cool and do what I've been trained to do. As long as there's one person standing, I have to make sure they don't get hurt. You are that person right now and I won't let anything happen to you, alright? You'll never feel like a burden to me, you understand?"

His words, the way he talked to you, the way he looked at you; it was all too much. Your arms found the back of his neck in an instant, your body crushing into his. He let out a surprised gasp then chuckled as he entwined his arms around your back.

"Thank you Leon. Thank you so much." your voice broke due to the emotion. Tears pickled your eyes, but you repressed them, unwilling to start crying once again.

He squeezed you harder, rubbing his hands on your back, "there's nothing to thank me for."

"There's plenty to thank you for, just accept it."

He loudly sighed, making you smile. You stayed like that, silently enjoying each other's warmth. None of you willing to let go just yet. His hand raised to the nape of your neck, fingers lazily running through the roots of your hair, massaging your scalp. You melted in the embrace at his soothing touch, abandoning your body against his. You could feel his chest raising against yours, his breathing a bit altered but not as ragged as it was before. You matched it with yours. You were feeling safe in his arms, protected. His warmth, the movement of his fingers against your scalp, his breathing; everything soothed you in any possible way. You felt yourself drifting off, eyelids slowly flushing close.

The encounter with that man took a number on you, nay, the whole day took a number on you. You had to rest.

The close sound of heavy footsteps woke you up with a start. You found yourself laying on the sofa, head rested on one armrest, legs dangling from the other. You sat up, hands rubbing your crusted eyes. The room was almost in total darkness, only a feeble light came from the bolted window. It was nighttime, the streetlight was on. The noise that woke you now sounded more distant. It was him, none but him. Did he finally find your hiding place? Did he... Leon's face suddenly came to your mind. You casted a hurried look around.

"Leon?", you cautiously called in a shaky whisper, "Leon, are you here?"

A light ruffle came from the other side of the room and soon after, Leon's figure appeared from behind the wall. You breathed a sigh of relief. Nothing happened to him.

"Y/N, you're awake." he whispered, approaching you. When he was close enough, you could make out that adorable smile of his, curving up his lips. Your heart fluttered in your chest.

"Did you- uh, did you sleep well?" he sounded bashful, his hand moving to scratch the back of his neck.

"I did, yeah." you smiled sheepishly, "I fell asleep on you, didn't I?"

He meekly chuckled, shrugging slightly. "Don't worry about that. We were both extremely tired. I dozed off too." he said, his smile faltering, "I woke to the sound of his footsteps not so long ago. I was just making some erbs, in case we'd need them..."

You nodded, sighing, "I woke up in a startle as well."

You exchanged a worried look.

"Does he- does he know we're here?"

"No, I believe not. Not yet, at least. He would have smashed through the door long ago if he did."

"Yeah, you're right. Not yet." You took a deep breath, your head hanging down, "so this is it."

Leon crouched down in front of you, his hand moving to rest on your knee. "What do you mean?"

"This is how we die."

Leon promptly shook his head, squeezing your knee. "That's not true. You're not gonna die. I won't let that happen. We'll get out."

"Leon, please." you looked up at him, a cold resignation setting in your eyes, "I know you're trying to be optimistic for both of our sakes but it's not working anymore. I can see you're worried just as much as I am."

He casted down his sad look for a moment.

"He's just out there. We can't get out. And even if he doesn't come here any minute from now, he will always be out there somewhere, forcing us inside this damned station. There's nothing we can do. We're trapped. Getting out is something we can only dream about."

Leon looked at you in silence. You were worried you had somehow broken him. He always told you you could do it, that you could get out. Since he took you in, he always reassured you at any given moment. Did your words crush his last flicker of hope? You didn't want him to think you didn't believe in his abilities. You'd known him for only a short period of time but you could see how capable he was, despite his young age. He could actually get you out if only, if only things didn't look so freaking hard.

"Leon, I'm sorry. I-"

He slumped down on the floor, elbows coming to rest on his bent knees, head hung down. "Nah, you're right. There's no way out of here. At least, none I can see. I was just, you know, hoping that getting out would mean this nightmare would eventually come to an end. Like poof, suddenly we're back in the normal world, everything is like it was before, like nothing ever happened."

He looked at you for a moment, hurt in his eyes. You sadly smiled at him as you nodded.

"I understand."

"This should have been my first day of work, you know? My first day as a police officer here in this city. This should have been a happy day."

You could hear how devastated he was. A lump was forming in your throat. "I saw the welcome drapings", you paused, his beautiful features distorted by sadness made your heart ache, "I presumed you were new to this place when you lost your way a couple of times after you took me in."

Your comment made him chuckle and you smiled triumphantly.

"I was distracted."

"Yeah, sure."

He shook his head, a smile still tugging at his lips. His gaze met yours once again.

"How was your life before, you know, this happened?"

The genuine tone of his voice startled you and you giggled to mask your embarrassment. "What now, you want to get to know me right before we die?"

He searched your face, his blue eyes beaming at you.

"I'd like to know who I'm spending my final moments with."

You blushed again, diverting your eyes from his. "I don't know what to tell you..."

"Well, for starters... what's the thing you most regret not doing?"

Your eyes widened as you scoffed.

"That's your question?"

He shrugged nonchalantly, watching you. "We're in a life or death situation here. There's no point asking for your favourite color, movie or hobby."

"Well, I mean... You're right, but..."

"Just tell me the first thing that comes to your mind."

Your gaze fell on your hands clasped in your lap. You sighed deeply. "I think I uhm- I regret not giving myself a chance of falling in love."

Your answer startled him for a moment, his head tilting lightly on one side. "Damn. That's deep."

"Well, what did you expect?"

He scanned your face, silently watching you for a moment.

"You've never been in love?"

"Nope."

"So, you've only had superficial relationships..."

"What? No. I never had a relationship."

A soft gasp escaped his lips and you moved your gaze back on his stunned face.

"Why do you look so surprised? I'm y/a years old and never had a relationship, I'm certainly not the first nor the last."

"I know, I know. It's just...", he kept searching your face, eyes quizzically moving on your every feature, "It's hard to believe someone like you never..." He trailed off as he stared at you. You could almost see his brain cells working. He was definitely doing 1+1.

"So you've also never..."

"Yeah. Never been touched by anyone other than myself, if that's what you're asking. Never even kissed somebody or held hands", you paused as you remembered how his warm hand had clenched around yours multiple times during the day, "well, uhm romantically I mean."

His expression grew even more astonished.

"Oh come on, don't look at me like that!" you groaned, covering your face with both your hands. This conversation was starting to be too awkward and embarrassing for you. What were you two doing? With that man out there, your lives in peril. These arguments felt so frivolous.

You heard him shifting in his position and a hand grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand away from your face.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable." He sounded genuinely sorry and you smiled at him in reassurance. "It's just that...", he trailed off again, his piercing eyes boring into yours.

You noticed he was on his knee, his hand still grabbing your wrist in a gentle grip. His free hand moved on your forehead to brush a lock of your hair out of your face. His fingertips lingered over your skin, gently tickling it as they grazed down along your forehead and your cheek, stopping on your mouth where they followed the contour of your lips. His gaze wandered toward them and you gulped as that warm feeling started to grow in your lower belly once again. His hand cupped the side of your face, thumb rubbing circles on your cheekbone. Your eyes locked again. His baby blue pearls searched yours, questioning, demanding.

You didn't move an inch, you were under a spell, into a trance. You even barely breathed as you feared breaking that sacred moment.

"Y/N", he called in a whisper. You softly hummed in response.

"May I?"

Your heart lost a heartbeat, you could feel it pulse in your throat. You couldn't talk, you couldn't nod. You just fluttered your eyes shut in anticipation. The suspense felt endless, your chest threatening to burst.

At last, lips pressed together in a soft gentle kiss. You shivered at the touch and melted in a puddle.

The sound of heavy footsteps filled your ears once again and your body started to tremble, but your lips remained anchored to his. Leon's hands found your waist and grabbed your sides protectively.

"Leon..." you breathed over his lips, looking languidly down at him.

He cursed under his breath, his lips crashing onto yours one more time, this time harder and deeper. You tried to hold a moan but failed to. He gently pushed you back in your seat, pressing you against the backrest as he stood up and bent one knee on the seat, the other foot planted firmly on the ground. His right arm rested on the board of the chair, inches over your head, while his left hand moved down to cup your face. You sank in the leather, out of breath, looking up at him as he towered over you. His head moved down to meet your lips in a passionate kiss.

The footsteps sounded a bit louder, echoing through the walls of the nearby hallway and making you flinch. You yanked Leon's vest as a reflex, clutching the hard material in your fist. His hand lowered on your body as it came to rest on your hip but in the process brushed your breast with the tip of his fingers. He noticed how turned on you were and his actions came to a sudden halt.

Leon pulled back a little, eyes darting to your chest before piercing yours as he firmly grabbed your jaw in his hand.

"Y/N, I need you to tell me if you want to keep going."

You gulped at the intensity of his gaze and tone, as well as the voracity of emotions igniting every fiber inside you. Your body ached to get a release, you couldn't control it anymore. These could be the final minutes of your life and you wanted to live them to the fullest.

As you kept your gaze locked on his face, you grabbed his hand and brought it to your chest, biting your lower lip at the sensation of his warm palm against your sensitive hardened nipple, only a couple of light layers of fabric separating the two. You saw his adam's apple bobbing hard in his throat as you guided his hand to move in circles on your breast. He kept on massaging you on his own when you pulled away and raised your hand toward his face, fingers running through his silky hair. He moaned softly, eyes fluttering close for a moment before he bent down again, his lips brushing the angle of your mouth as he started to leave a trail of wet kisses down your jaw, lingering on your neck. You covered your mouth to suppress a cry. The feeling of his soft wet lips on your burning skin was intoxicating. You wanted more. You wanted to see him, touch him, feel him.

You tugged at his vest, earning his attention. With one look at your pleading eyes, he instantly took the hint and started taking off the bulletproof vest as quietly as he could. When the first layer was out of the way, you helped him with his shirt, pausing to contemplate his bare chest. Your hands were on him in an instant, brushing his skin, tracing the outline of his abs, grazing all his bruises and scratches. Your eyes were full of him.

"Y/N?" he called you in a whisper, taking your hands in his.

You looked up at him, meeting his smiling loving face.

"Uhm?"

"You were staring." He was grinning, clearly making fun of you. You covered your mouth to suppress a laugh, pushing him a little.

"I would like to stare at you too, you know?"

You shook your head, rolling your eyes while keeping a wide smile on your face. You convened his wish was only fair so you decided to fulfill it.

Keeping your eyes on his face, you took the hem of your t-shirt in your hands and rolled it over your head before throwing it on the floor.

"Beautiful." you heard him mutter under his breath, and you noticed how his gaze wandered adoringly over your body.

"You can touch", you mocked him.

He smirked at you before he bent down to kiss your new revealed skin, his touch making you shiver again. His fingertips grazed your nipples from above the fabric of your bra and tugged at the hems of both cups.

You sighed in relief when he freed your breasts from their constraints, and gasped in surprise when he suddenly took one nipple in his mouth, licking and sucking it while playing with the other one with his fingers. You massaged his scalp as he made his way to your lower stomach by revering the skin with kisses. When the hem of your pants put a stop to his descent, he threw one languid glance at you before working with the buttons and pulling down the fabric. He moved on to remove your shoes as you helped him by kicking the pants off your ankles and out of the way. His hands grazed your thighs with adoration as he ate you with his eyes.

"I swear, if you keep looking at me like that..." you shakily muttered, catching his attention. He moved back toward your face, gifting you his adorable smile before lowering on your lips and kissing you with devotion.

"What would you do?"

"Most likely die."

He chuckled, locking eyes with yours.

"But before that, I'd definitely come undone before you even have the chance to touch me."

He sucked in his breath at your words and pulled back to cast a glance at your panties. You spread your legs just enough to show him how dripping wet the material was already. He gulped and let out a shaky breath.

You heard footsteps again, now coming from the upper floor just above you but you didn't care anymore. Your whole body was strung tight as a violin and it was not because of fear.

Eyes set on Leon's flustered face, you snaked your hands between your breasts, drawing a straight line toward your lower stomach and stopping just above the hem of your undies. One hand slipped under the material and you moaned out of pleasure as your fingertips brushed against your wet folds.

Leon's eyes widened and he cursed under his breath. You felt his bulge hardening against your knee and you moved your leg up and down to give him some friction. He groaned, eyes squeezing close, head bending backward and you revered at the sight of his upper body muscles tensing due to your teasing.

After a moment, he looked back at you with heavy lidded eyes making your heart flutter in your chest. He bent down toward you again, lips coming close to your ear as he whispered, "You're gonna be the death of me, not that fucker out there."

As if in answer, the heavy sound from above became louder, the ceiling shaking under the weight of it. You grabbed Leon's face with your free hand and pulled him into a kiss to shut him up.

Without removing his lips from yours, Leon snaked his hand on your body, following the straight line of your arm as he brushed your skin until his fingers were above yours, inside your undies. He whimpered in your mouth as he witnessed firsthand just how slick you were down there and his fingers began to move over yours, doubling the friction on your clitoris. This time you whined in his mouth and you pulled your hand away to relish only his touch.

He better positioned his fingers between you and brushed them over your folds, up and down a few times before slipping one inside you. You were incredibly turned on and it took him only a moment to stretch you enough to insert another finger and soon after a third one.

You came around his fingers not long after, the climax hitting you hard and making you see stars, your whole body spasmed for a few moments and his mouth, still seared on yours, captured your every cry.

As he pulled back to see the outcome of his work, you looked up at him from under your eyelashes, panting hard, still recollecting yourself from the strongest orgasm you've ever experienced.

"I've been the first to do that, uh?"

His teasing grin made you snort, fingers raising up toward his face to brush the sweat plastered hair out of his forehead.

"No one ever touched me but you, Leon." you retorted in a low whisper, teasing back at him.

He sighed deeply, biting his lower lip, eyes never leaving yours.

Taking advantage of his temporary daze, you moved your hands on the inseam of his trousers, tearing a grunt from him as you fondled his bulge from over the fabric before you made quick work of unfastening his buttons and sliding down the zip. He moaned in relief as you rolled down his underwear just enough to let his dick spring free from his painful constraints. However, before you could take him between your hands or approach your mouth to its head, Leon stopped you. You quizzically looked up at him, meeting his pleading eyes.

"I cannot let you do that."

You frowned up at him, hurt written all over your face.

His hand moved down to gently cup your cheek and he shakily whispered in a flustered tone, "Y/N, if you touch me I'm done."

The angles of your mouth instantly curved up and you bit down on your lip to suppress a chuckle. He was just as turned on as you were, only moments away from a release.

As you reveled in the thought of him being too worked up for you to even touch him, Leon pushed you back down, guiding you to lay on the armchair, head on the armrest as he hastily freed you both from the remaining clothes standing between you two. He positioned himself over you, one of your legs on his shoulder, the other around his hip, you looked up at him, mouth agape, shivering in anticipation.

He bent down on you, leaving a sloppy kiss on your lips before he whispered in your ear, "Are you nervous?"

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes. "Just a little bit. But I trust you."

Leon pulled back a few inches, just enough to lock eyes with you and bless you with his smile. He didn't pull back or divert his eyes from yours as he took his dick in his hand and moved it over your folds, rubbing the tip up and down as he coated it with your wetness before he pushed it inside you, slow and steady. His mouth was on yours before you could cry out loud, his own grunt soaked up by the kiss as well. He slid in and out at a slow pace for a few times, until he felt your tight walls adjusting around his length and your body relaxing under him. He then fastened his pace, his every thrust pleasurably hitting the right spot. His mouth wandered over your breasts, tongue worshipping your nipples. The only thing you could do was thread your fingers through his hair and keep your mouth shut to suppress any sound.

His thrusts soon became erratic, his body tiredly pressing on yours. You could feel he was close, just as you were. Both of you tried to keep your moans down, muting them either with kisses or biting your lips. The only noise that echoed between the walls of the room was the wet, sloppy sound your bodies made where they met each other.

Leon hid his face in the crook of your neck, planting his hot lips on your burning skin. His hand snaked between your bodies, fingers finding your clit and starting rubbing circles, totally driving you crazy. You had to rely on any ounce of willpower you had left in you to refrain from screaming out loud. You were close, so close to reach the peak again...

The more than familiar sound of footsteps caught your attention all of a sudden and you realised with horror that it now came from the hallway just outside the door. Your terrified gaze met Leon's panicked face. His eyes darted from you to the door and back at you. You saw him firmly setting his jaw, his hard gaze locking with yours. His free hand moved to tightly cover your mouth and he resumed his pace, slowing down to make as little noise as possible, his fingers finding your most sensible button once again. Your eyes widened, every fiber in your body screamed for the thrill of the terrifying and arousing situation you were in.

The fast approaching footsteps, Leon's fingers teasing you, his hand sealing your mouth, his agonisingly slow but deep thrusts; it all felt too much and you came, eyes squeezing shut as a wild orgasm exploded in your belly, jolts of pleasure igniting every inch of your spasming body.

A soft but long whimper instantly brought you back on earth and you saw Leon struggling to keep his mouth shut as he thrust inside you one last time before pulling out. It was your time to cover his mouth with your hand as he came on you; eyes fluttering close, brow knitting, limbs shaking and giving out. He collapsed on you, his head coming to rest on your chest and you clutched his body close to yours, as tight as you could. Your arm around his shoulders, your hands on both your mouths to suppress even the slightest noise, you focused on the sound coming from behind the door. The man was walking through the hallway, passing right in front of your room.

You felt your heart in your throat, body turning into a block of ice when you heard him coming to a halt. You stopped breathing altogether, clinging onto Leon's exhausted body. It was the longest most terrifying wait of your life. When you thought you couldn't last any longer, your lungs burning from lack of air, you heard the sound of footsteps picking up again. You didn't move nor breathe until the noise grew distant enough.

At last, you uncovered your mouth and breathed a big long sigh of relief at which Leon's head raised up from your chest. Your eyes immediately locked and you felt him smile against your palm. You reduced the pressure on his mouth and he grabbed your wrist, keeping your hand at the level of his lips as he planted a soft kiss on your palm.

"What has just happened?" you whispered, your panting making it hard to talk. It wasn't really a question, more of a realization as you thought back at the last several minutes.

Your eyes followed him as he pulled away from you and stood up. He picked up his shirt from the ground and took the fabric of one of its sleeves between his teeth to rip it off. He then moved back toward you and gently rubbed the piece of cloth on your stomach to remove, what you realised only in that moment was his cum. He had some on his own chest and removed it too before putting the cloth away.

"You didn't have to ruin your shirt."

He retrieved your clothes off the floor and passed them to you, then picked up his own and started getting dressed.

"You could have used something else, like... I don't know... a gauze, for example." you babbled, pointing the half clean gauze laying on the ground, as you put back on your underwear.

"No, we're gonna need them all."

You looked up at him.

Already almost fully dressed, he was fastening the vest over his shirt. He turned toward you as he put the waist bag back around his hips. He lovingly smiled at your confused face and stepped toward you, crouching down and cupping both your cheeks in his hands.

"We're gonna need them because we're gonna go back out there and get the fuck out of here, once and for all." His tone was calm but his eyes beamed at you with a drive you couldn't truly understand. You could sense he truly meant what he said. He sounded resolute. He was looking at you as he could take over the entire world if he wanted.

"So... we're back at square one." you quizzically eyed him, searching his face.

"Oh no", he firmly shook his head, his smile growing on his face, "I was lost before but I'm very determined now."

You tilted your head on one side, brows furrowed, still trying to understand his sudden change of heart.

Leon chuckled, looking at you fondly.

"Y/N, I don't want this to end here." he said, emphasising each word, finger pointing between the two of you, "I don't want you to die and I don't want to die, either. I want us to live. And maybe..."

He moved closer, planting a soft kiss on your forehead, "maybe, have a date after all of this ends?"

You looked at him in disbelief, mouth hanging open.

"Would you like that?" His beaming eyes bored into yours, expectantly waiting for your answer.

"I- I mean...", you stuttered as you searched for words. The events of the night came back in a flash to your mind. You relived all that happened in such a short period of time; from running through the streets alone and getting into the station with the help of Leon, to almost getting killed by the huge man, and then having that awkward conversation with Leon, with all it led to. You realised you weren't determined as him and never would be. You sure as hell weren't confident in your abilities, if you had any. You still doubted you could survive the night. But, you believed in him. You trusted him with your life. He made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside all the time. He made you feel alive. He made you want to live. If you had to fight for your life and survive that nightmare, you wouldn't have anyone at your side, other than the precious cop now beaming at you.

_ _ _

You pulled him by the collar and pressed your lips to his. You felt him smile in the kiss.

MORE STORIES 🥀

(a/n): Thank you for reading my story! I hope you liked it as much as I did writing it. Any kind of feedback is much appreciated. ❤

You can also find this story on wattpad and Ao3.

[samueldays]

MorlockP's Iron Catastrophe essay

Copied from the man's Twitter for reference when he inevitably gets banned:

1/

there may already be a name for the phenomena, but if not, I nominate "iron catastrophe" - when a star has used up most of the hydrogen, helium, etc. it more and more fuses heavier elements ... and each element gets used up faster than the one before.

>>> https://twitter.com/The_Petrichory/status/1327301711828975616

Elites exchanging credibility for raw power at a rapid rate seems to appear near the fall of every empire. Is there some sociopolitical term for this phenomenon?

2/

The process goes exponential in time. Hydrogen lasts for billions of years, helium lasts for millions, etc.

By the time the silicon is being fused, that entire fuel cycle lasts for < 1 day.

The heat liberated by fusion lifts the outer layers of the star millions of miles

3/

But then, in one last spasm, all of the silicon is fused to iron, and there's nothing left.

...and that stellar atmosphere, which may have been lifted as far as 1 AU (earth's orbit!) ... is suddenly held up by nothing.

...and it starts falling.

4/

Picture the energy liberated by a human jumping off of the World Trade Center.

Picture the energy liberated from a tank falling from an airplane without a parachute.

Picture the "colony drop" trope of a massive space station falling from LEO.

5/

...now picture something like 1/3 of the mass of an entire star, on the order of magnitude of a million earth masses, falling ... from a height of 200 million miles ... accelerating all the way.

It doesn't end well.

That's the iron catastrophe.

6/

...and that's the analogy that springs to mind when I see the US elite using up all "freedom" as a rhetorical fuel in 150 years, then using up "competent technocrats" as a rhetorical fuel in 50 years, then using up "fighting racism" in 5 years, then ...

7/

and note that, in keeping with the analogy, as the Cathedral burns up each new form of rhetorical fuel, it gets hotter, it gets bigger, and it lifts its parts further and further out of the gravity well ... storing up potential energy.

...all of which can be liberated >>>

8/

when the entire thing suddenly has no more fuel to burn, there's no more pressure to keep up the parts, and the whole thing collapses under gravity.

9/

Remember: the first stage of fusion lasts 1 billion years. The last stage (silicon -> Fe) lasts less than a day.

10/

11/

https://twitter.com/The_Petrichory/status/1327310059047514117

I observe the Cathedral selling out the credibility of the once-prestigious academy for tighter integration with the federal bureaucracy. I observe the law selling out its credibility to anarcho-tyranny, harassing you for petty contrivances while your business burns.

12/

13/

14/

A friend DM'ed me: "I like your analogy, but it fails for one reason - when the star collapses, that's how the Earth was formed"

Actually, no, that's not a failure of the analogy - that was part of it (the part I forgot to type up).

So, back to the astrophysics >>>

15/

You've got this 25 solar mass red giant, and it's burned through hydrogen, helium, lithium, ...turning each into the next higher element, or even heavier yet ... and the star's getting bigger and bigger

16/

(compare the USG reach in 1800 vs DoD / State department global reach in 2020, where it's a matter of vital national importance that US dollars be spent so that Pakistani children can be be taught that gender norms are social constructed)

17/

...but eventually the star runs out of fuseable elements / USG runs out of rhetorical fuel (the exhaustion of the elites in Moldbug framing), and one day ... there's nothing left to prop the edifice up.

and it all comes crashing down

The star comes crashing down

18/

When the stellar mass free-falls all the way to the bottom, accelerating all the way, it hits bottom / smashes into itself, and like a cavitation bubble collapsing, the deceleration is HARD.

Suddenly there's a ton more energy, and temperatures spike to to insane levels.

19/

All of this oxygen and carbon and lithium and iron is squeezed together so hot and so dense that a whole new wave of nuclear reactions take place. Strange and weird reactions that "can't" take place because they require so much energy to happen... do.

This is nucleogenesis

20/

This is the process by which basically every atom in the universe that's heavier than iron was created. Every lead wheel weight, every tank of argon welding gas, every neon sign -all of those atoms were born in the death of a start - the insane pressure cooker last seconds.

21/

This is the final part of my analogy.

When, in 5 or 30 years, the Cathedral has burned through the absolute last of its legitimacy - when it screams "freedom" and people laugh, when it yells "but the roads" and they laugh, when it screams "racism" and they laugh - it falls

22/

The fall takes 200 or 300 years to start, and then lasts 15 minutes.

When all of the rubble, falling from insane heights, hits each other, pressures rise, and strange new elements are created.

This is how the atoms that make up the Earth were formed.

And this ...

23/

is how I think that the basic elements of the next generation of societies will be created as well.

There's an interesting theory I read recently ( maybe in The Narrow Corridor ? https://amazon.com/Narrow-Corridor-States-Societies-Liberty-ebook/dp/B07MCRLV2K maybe somewhere else?) that modern Europe was created by ...

24/

(or, rather the atoms that later created modern Europe) were created by the collapse of the Roman empire and the fact that it was overrun by the Germanic tribes, thus fusing the democratic principles of the tribes with the bureaucratic norms of Rome.

(Tangential: I learned

25/

yesterday, during a wiki wander, that the last meeting of the Roman senate met in 603 AD, even tho the last emperor had been deposed over a century earlier

26/

but back to the analogy: I think that the crash of the Cathedral is going to fuse into existence crazy new elements.

Exciting times.

If I'm right (and I make no claims) then the steady acceleration of the rhetorical fuel depletion means we'll all see this in our lifetimes

27/

http://astronomy.ohio-state.edu/~ryden/ast162_4/notes15.html

For instance, consider the stages in the life of a 25 Msun star:

Hydrogen fusion lasts 7 million years

Helium fusion lasts 500,000 years

Carbon fusion lasts 600 years

Neon fusion lasts 1 year

Oxygen fusion lasts 6 months

Silicon fusion lasts 1 day

28/

[cinnamonrusts]

together, we can make it out alive - 2

parts: 1

-- mentions of alcohol 

your issues with leon flare up at the worst of times, and you have a trip down memory lane -f!reader

(gif not mine) tags: @ayamenimthiriel​

                                                                      ⋆｡˚ ⋆｡˚ ⋆｡˚ ⋆｡˚

"Lieutenant!" you cried out and hobbled to your superior's aid as he backed into a wall. His hand was pressed against his wound and he threw his head back in pain but shooed you away when you tried to support him as he slid down to the floor. "I'll be fine! I'll be fine!" he huffed out in his typical annoyed manner, despite nearing death. "Y-You two need to get out of here... alive," Branagh added. "What about you?" Leon asked. The injured man raised a bloody hand and pointed his index finger toward the male rookie, "You save yourself," he coughed several times, "That's an order!" He dropped his finger and dug into his shirt pocked, then fished out a small notebook with a brown cover. Branagh leaned forward to hand the notebook to Leon, "E-Elliot, an officer here believed that there was a secret way out of here."

Leon flipped through the blood soaked pages and he examined the drawings that this presumably deceased officer drafted as Branagh explained. "I'd come with you two, but I would just slow you down." the RPD Lieutenant had accepted his fate that he wouldn't be going anywhere. "[Y/N]", he called your name and looked into your eyes when they met. "You take care of yourself, officer. You're a good kid. It was a pleasure being your Lieutenant." his pale lips turned upward into a weak smile.

His attention then turned to Leon, "Kennedy. Despite this being my last moments as your superior, I have one request of you." his eyes stared into Leon's, "If you see one of those things -- uniform or not. You do not hesitate. Do not make my mistake, you hear me?" The male rookie accepted this request and promised to do everything he could to keep himself and you safe. Branagh gave each of you one last handshake before he barked at you to go.

You hesitated because you felt that there might be more that could be done, but Leon pulled you along with him. Getting to safety was now the priority.

Your cheeks grew warm and your cheeks felt sore from the smile that grew wider as Leon explained. "You're too nice to me, Leon. Even after I picked on you all the time during school."  Earlier in the day the two of you had graduated from the police academy which was in a city far from both of your hometowns. Everyone in the graduating class decided to go to a local bar to celebrate the accomplishment you all achieved. Each of you had a story to tell and a lot of them were similar to yours. 

"Kennedy! You sly son of a bitch," you curse as Leon handed you a white, rectangular cardboard box. Leon smiled with a slight shrug of his shoulders. "Open it," he whispered in your ear under the roar of the busy bar the two of you were seated in. When the lid was removed, the contents caused your eyes to sparkle in awe. Inside of the package was a silver bracelet with blue gemstones nestled in the center of each link. "I told you no gifts!" you yell at him and delivered a swift punch to his shoulder. Leon shrugged again, "I saw it at the mall, and it kinda just --- jumped out at me." he leaned over and his finger touched the jewelry, "I had to get it."

You were a girl from a midwestern city with big dreams of living it up in a city that was far-far away from Raccoon City's limits. The first few weeks of the police academy were rough, and you were skeptical if you wanted to continue on with it. You did not get along well with most of the other female recruits and struggled fitting in. That is until you met a swoopy haired male named Leon, who was paired with you one day and bonded.

 Leon was still leaned in close and you could feel your heartbeat in your throat. Unsure if it was your emotions, the alcohol, or a mixture of both but you felt like your entire body was a bright shade of red. "Say cheese!" a female voice yelled out which drew both of your attention front and center. A classmate pointed a Polaroid in your direction and was ready to snap a picture. You set your gift down on the bar counter and threw your arms around Leon's neck, then pulled him in close. Leon slinked his arm around your waist and held his pint of beer in the air. After the bright flash of the camera, the classmate handed you the photo and went off to snap more pictures. You took the square paper and shook it several times in the air. As the photo started to develop, you noticed how happy the two of you looked. "Aw! Look how cute you are!" you point out Leon's cheeky smile and giggled several times. Your giggles grew louder and louder, then turned into several snorts.

 Leon took you to his car and struggled with the lack of support for your weight. "You sure do handle your liquor better than me!" you giggled and poked his cheek several times. "Well, you also managed to get six shots of tequila into you before I drank my first beer." Leon leaned against the hood of his car and supported you with his knees. Your eyes first focused on his handsome face as you admired the way that he looked, and he did the same. You could feel your face grow red again, so you decided to change your attention to the darkened sky above. Leon's fingers grazed the skin of your arms which drew your attention back to him. His eyelids were half mast and he had a smile on his lips. "Leon, you're drunk, aren't you?" you ask, despite being heavily intoxicated yourself. "Maybe," he answers. He pulled you close to his body and you could feel his breath against your face. He kissed you and you kissed back. But when you pulled away from each other, you could see his moonstone eyes glow with the moonlight from above.

"I think you've had enough," Leon chuckled as he rested his hand on your shoulder but watched you guzzle down another shot of tequila. "Wait! Wait! I need the lime," you hurried a sucked on the sour citrus fruit and felt your face contort at the taste of the bitterness. "C'mon, missy," Leon took your arm and threw it around his shoulder to support your weight. But didn't expect it to be dead weight, because when you both stood, your body dropped like a stone to the floor with a thud. "Oh shit!" Leon cursed as he reached for your hand that flailed around in the air. "Are you okay?" he asked as he pulled you up, but you laughed uncontrollably. "I'll take that as a yes," he smiled and led you out of the building.

Leon's fingers continued to tickle your skin as they danced up your biceps to your collarbone, and his teeth pricked at your body simultaneously. His digits glided across your bone before they dropped to your exposed cleavage, you pulled away from him for a moment to get a breath of fresh air.

Leon was surprised when you did it. Your hand cupped his cheek and your eyebrows furrowed, "They're sending me back to Raccoon City," your happiness faded to a more somber mood. Leon took your hand in his and placed small kisses on each knuckle, "I'll come with you." Your instincts made you smile but your gut gave you a feeling that it was the alcohol talking and not the genuine Leon, which made you frown. "You always said you'd never want to live there," you finally spoke. "Yeah, but I didn't realize how I felt about you then." he continued to kiss your hand between words. You were almost certain now that it was the alcohol. "W-what?" your words stuttered.

You dribbled some hydrogen peroxide onto a cotton swap and attempted to get at Leon's wound from his open collar, but couldn't. "You're gonna have to take off your shirt." He nodded and slipped off his vest before he unbuttoned his shirt to slide it off. You could feel your hands tremble as you recalled the last time you saw him shirtless, but you snapped yourself out of it. This was no place to walk down memory lane. "This is going to suck, I'm sorry." you said as you placed the soaked cotton onto what looked like a bite wound. He jumped and cursed which caused a chuckle to bellow from your throat, "Okay Mr. Tough Cop Man, can't take a little peroxide. huh?" you joked. He didn't say anything beside a gruff under his breath. As you continued to clean his wound, you could feel your eyes take peeks at his chiseled torso, but mentally cursed yourself anytime you did. This seriously was not the place.

Leon stopped his kissing and now stared you in the eye, "I promise you that if I ever come to Raccoon City, I will tell you and we'll continue where we left off." He held out his pinky finger which linked with yours, "It's a pinky promise."

Leon pushed you behind him and took the lead down the hall. His gun and flashlight at the ready as the stillness of the night lingered in the abandoned station. As you followed him with your own weapon and light in hand, you noticed a wound on his trapezius and the fabric of his uniform still wet. "You should take care of that," you point it out. Leon hummed in confusion before he acknowledged the wound that you spoke of. He shook his head, "Don't worry about it." You ignored his words and pulled back on his shoulder, "Don't try to act like such a tough guy. We should do it before we carry on, there's some supplies in the locker room up ahead." You hobbled past him and lead him through the door. Leon closed the door behind you as you approached a locker and scrolled through the numbers to enter a code. "I always keep some supplies with my stuff, never know when you're going to need it." you ruffled through your bag and pulled out a first aid spray with some other supplies. "Should patch myself up too while we're at it." your finger pointed to a bench in front of you and told Leon to sit. "Shouldn't it be ladies first?" he asked as he sat and you responded with a, "Shut up."

 "[Y/N], about the last few months... I- I meant to reach out, but...-" he attempted to explain himself but you stopped him mid sentence. "Now is not the time, Leon." you turned to leave but he pulled back again. "What if this is the last time we are able to talk? We could die as soon as we walk out that door!" he yelled. Your eyes narrowed as you gave him a moment to express himself, "I-I met this girl back at home. I just got wrapped up in all of it and cut off a lot of important people," he ran a hand down the front of his face. "That's why I didn't show up on time! We-we broke up, I drank too much, then slept in... God, if only I came here..." he trailed off in his guilt. You felt some sympathy for your former partner, "It's probably a good thing you didn't come on time." you explained to him the weird things that had been going on lately. The weird cannibalistic killings, how shifty the police chief was acting, and how everything spiraled out of control. "This isn't how I expected my first day..." Leon sighed into a closed fist.

"One last thing," you picked up a can of first aid spray and sprayed the entire area with the green mist. "All done." you patted him on the shoulder and allowed him to re-dress himself. You lifted your injured leg onto the bench to assess the damage that shard of glass did, as you looked closer at it you could see the raw flesh that resided under your skin. Ouch. When you grabbed the peroxide, your hand met with Leon's, "Here, let me help you," he offered but you smacked his hand away. "I got it." your voice was harsh and you continued to treat your wound. Once you were patched up, you shoved the remaining supplies into your hip pack, "I'll still be pretty slow but we should be fine." you took a few steps toward the door but Leon pulled you back.

 You couldn't help but scoff, "How do you think I feel?! From what it seems like, my entire crew is dead! Then, "Mr. Rookie of the Year" strolls in from the shadows to save the day! I haven't seen you in years, Leon, years! You completely disappeared and then when I do finally see you, the fucking town is on fire!" you run a hand through your deranged hair, "I don't think I can do this." you lifted your pistol and pulled the hammer back to make sure it is loaded. "I should've just called in. Then, I could be miles away from this fucking place!" your anger came to a boil, "Then, you! How can you act so-so laid back! Ever since I met you! Always Mr. Cool Guy! This city is fucked!" Leon tried to hush your yelling before you attracted any unwanted visitors.

Your raised voice dropped to a louder whisper, "You promised me, Leon! You promised me that you would come back and when you did, you would tell me! You said we would continue what we started but no, I find out you're coming here by a fucking banner on the ceiling!" your finger pointed in the air. You closed your eyes as you decided on your next move, "I think you'll be better on your own." your hand turned the knob and you took a step out in the hall, "You think you can just come back here and act like everything is the same. Touch me like you did before -- I-," you don't turn around to face him, "I'll see you on the outside of this place." and left him with those words with a door slammed in his face.

[scapegrace74-blog]

Dopamine

A/N  We’re going back in Metric Universe time to when Claire and Jamie were only flatmates with the unrequited hots for one another!  Set around the same time as Halo, so early October 2017.

With special thanks to @gotham-ruaidh for the prompt!

All other parts of the Metric Universe are available on my AO3 page.

Friday, October 13, 2017

Spittalfields, London, England

“Argh!”

Jamie heard Claire’s frustrated cry through his wireless headphones, even over the thrum of MotoGP.  He faced away from where she sat at her desk, ostensibly studying for a biochemistry mid-term, but it was hard to miss the tickertape explosion that skittered across the hardwood beneath his feet.

When he turned, Claire was leaning far back, staring up at the ceiling with hands tangling through her unbound curls.  A stack of cue cards, each containing a neatly drawn organic compound on one side and its name on the reverse, now lay strewn across the floor in an arc of momentary outrage.

“Somethin’ the matter, Claire?” he ventured tentatively after pausing his game.  He generally tried to ignore his flatmate while she was studying, leaving her to mutter arcane medical terminology under her breath and brew endless cups of tea in peace.  This latest event seemed outside the norm, however.

“Nothing an extra twelve hours in the day wouldn’t fix,” she replied tartly, looking his way.  The usual amber warmth of her gaze was dim and lined with strain.  “I apologize for disturbing you with my outburst,” she added.

He bent down and started to collect the dozen or so cards that had slid as far as his perch on the sofa.

“Dinna fash.  I was only killin’ time until my shift.  I gather yer studies arenna goin’ well, then?”

“I can’t seem to wrestle my brain into focusing.  Every nucleic acid looks exactly the same, and don’t even get me started with amino acid chains, with their bloody polypeptides and...   Jesus, I’m sorry, Jamie.  You aren’t interested in hearing about my biochem headaches.”

He approached the window, collecting cue cards from the floor as he walked.

“Nah, tis interesting.  I barely recall Sixth Year Chemistry, save fer the fact that my lab partner was a budding arsonist.  I canna imagine all the compounds and such ye’re expected tae ken.  The exam’s Monday, aye?  Why don’t ye take a wee break, tae recharge yer mind?”

Even as he said it, he knew it was a lost cause.  Claire’s will was indominable, and conceding defeat, if only by way of a temporary reprieve, was out of the question.  It was the warrior’s spirit he’d recognized in her from the start, far too cherished to wish away.

“What’s this do, then?” he asked, holding up a card where she could see the molecular structure.

“That’s dopamine.”

“Aye, I ken that fine.  It says it right here on yer wee note.  I asked what it does,” he goaded.

Claire huffed and rolled her eyes, but he knew she couldn’t resist the urge to put him in his place.

“It’s a neuro-transmitter associated with certain executive functions like motor control, reward motivation, lactation and sexual arousal.  Often referred to as the love chemical,” she recited drily, eyebrow lifted in provocation.

“Ah,” he replied, shuffling the cards in his hands to avoid further eye contact.  “And this one?” he asked, leaning back against the surface of the desk.

They carried on in this way for another fifteen minutes until it was time for him to leave for the fire station.  As he donned his boots and jacket he could hear Claire humming along to a phantom tune while she drew on the back of a fresh cue card, a spare pen stuck into the crow’s nest of her newly upswept hair.

“Have a good night, Jamie!” she called out as he opened the door.

“And you,” he replied, waiting until he was safely in the hallway to quietly add, “mo nighean donn.”

***

Claire woke late the next morning, grateful for twenty-four hours without work or classes to really knuckle down and finish studying.  After her brief tantrum the day before, she managed to complete a full preliminary review before finally succumbing to sleep.  Even after Jamie left for work, she found herself reciting the characteristics of each compound aloud, finding the detail made the names and corresponding structures easier to remember.

You see, Jamie, carbon, hydrogen and oxygen form the core bonds of every carbohydrate, from simple sucrose all the way up to complex polysaccharides...

The door to her flatmate’s bedroom was shut tight, and she knew from experience that he’d sleep until noon after working a graveyard shift.  Making herself some toast and fruit, she set the coffee on to brew, knowing Jamie would want it later.

Rather than sit at their tiny table, Claire stood beside the wall-to-wall windows while she ate, and watched the improvisational theatre of the street life below.  She enjoyed these quiet mornings, watching the city come to life, in solitude but not solitary.

Once she was fully awake and fortified, she settled into her chair and prepared to do battle with her biochemistry notes.  Next to her stack of textbooks, a small piece of paper with Jamie’s distinctive cursive caught her eye.

Spotify Playlist, Dopamine by JAMMF

Intrigued, she opened the app on her phone and typed in the search bar.  As she read down the list of songs, she couldn’t decide whether to laugh or cry, so she ended up splitting the difference with a watery giggle.  The ridiculous, precious man had made her a mixtape, and its theme wasn’t subtle.  She plugged in her headphones and began to study.

Several hours later, the door to Jamie’s room cracked open and he emerged blinking like a bemused russet owl.  He shuffled towards the kitchen, where she knew he’d drink a mug of black coffee in long, bracing draughts before truly waking up for the day.  Her eyes sheered away from watching his progress as  he lifted the torn hem of his favourite Mogwai concert t-shirt and absently scratched the line of hair that bisected his taut belly.

By the time he returned, she was engrossed in a chapter about protein sequencing.  A fresh cup of tea was deposited near her left elbow.

“Thank you,” she smiled up at him.

“Ye’re welcome.  How is yer studying comin’ along?”

“Really well, actually.  This playlist is amazing!  It must have taken you forever to pull together.  Was it a slow night, then?”

“Aye, more or less,” he demurred.  

“Well, it worked a charm.  I may actually survive this mid-term.  It was incredibly thoughtful of you, Jamie.”  Bashful under praise, he raised his free hand to rub through his sleep-mussed curls, doing nothing to diminish their resemblance to a rooster’s comb.

“Weel, I’ll let ye get tae it, then,” he muttered, turning back towards his bedroom.

“Wait!” Claire startled.  “I... uhhh...  I could use a little break, actually.  Did you want to watch the Australia Fiji match for a bit?”

“Aye.  Aye, that would be excellent.”

***

Jamie’s Playlist for Claire

And for those without Spotify, here are the songs:

The Scientist - Coldplay

Chemistry - U.N.K.L.E.

Neutron Dance - The Pointer Sisters

The Light Behind Your Eyes - My Chemical Romance

Weird Science - OINGO BOINGO

Let Forever Be - The Chemical Brothers

She Blinded Me With Science - Thomas Dolby

Better Living Through Chemistry - Queens of the Stone Age

D.N.A. - The Kills

Radioactive - Imagine Dragons

Natural Science - Rush

Sounds of Science - Beastie Boys

Novocaine - Beck

Synthetica - Metric

[excelsi-or]

your type (pt. 5)

Hello friends! It's been a while. Personally, so much has been going on, but I'm back with a new part of this story. This one is a bit longer.

I hope you're all well and staying safe and wearing your masks.

w.c. 2.2k

pairing: jihoon x OC/reader

pt. 1; pt. 2; pt. 3; pt. 4

The day Jihoon gets her number is unexpected. Jihoon has accepted that she won’t give it to him, so with every goodbye, he arranges new plans to see her. She seems surprised each time, but she agrees. However, with the semester coming to an end, she’s become more elusive.

“I have to be in lab all this week. We have final presentations coming up,” she tells him on their last date.

Jihoon has been at it for two months and the boys are surprised at how slow it’s going. He’s told them multiple times that she’s forcing him to go slow. She refuses to let herself even like him a little more than she already did. Every time he makes a move, she ducks around it. He’s stopped trying to kiss her, mostly because every time she gets away from him hurts his ego a little.

This text surprises him.

Jihyo (17:34)

0XX-XXXX-XXXX

Can you just make sure she eats? She’s not answering any of my messages to come home.

Jihoon (17:34)

Why me?

Jihyo (17:34)

I think she might listen to you.

Jihoon hesitates for a moment before calling. It rings, once, twice, three times.

“Hello?”

“Hey.”

He can hear the confusion in her voice. “Who is this?”

“Jihoon.”

“Annnnnnd I’m hanging up now.”

The line goes dead. Jihoon stares at his phone in disbelief.

Jihoon (17:37)

Jihyo sent me your number.

Apparently you’re not responding to her.

What do you want to eat? I’ll bring it to you.

He doesn’t get any response. So, he tucks his hair under his hat and leaves the studio. There isn’t much food choice on campus, but he heads to the cafeteria to pick up something for both of them. Takeout bag in hand, he heads towards the science buildings. It’s a lot bigger than his building, and as soon as he’s in it, the white walls are intimidating.

Seulgi, a girl he’d slept with once, tilts her head when she sees him. “What are you doing here?”

Jihoon ignores the accusatory tone. “Do you know where the chemistry research lab is?”

Her brow furrows. “Third floor. Room 380 or something.”

“Thanks.”

Jihoon ducks into the stairwell and climbs up to the third floor. When he steps out, he recognizes Kihyun from a few parties walking by. “Do you know where the chemistry research lab is?”

Kihyun looks over at him and recognition crosses his features. “Yeah.” He points down the hallway. “It’s right before the skywalk that connects to the biology building.”

“Biology has whole building?” Jihoon asks in disbelief.

Kihyun laughs. “Yeah, man. Every science department does. Do you need me to walk you there?”

“It’d be helpful.”

Kihyun turns around from wherever he was originally going. He glances at the bag of food. “You got a new girlfriend?”

“Let’s say I’m trying.”

“Who?”

Jihoon offers her name.

Kihyun’s brow furrows. “Sejeong’s friend?”

“That’s her.”

“You better be careful with her,” Kihyun warns. “Those girls are protective of her. Haven’t you heard about Jo Byunggyu?”

Jihoon shakes his head. “Who’s that?”

“Her boyfriend after Jungkook.”

Jihoon assumes that that’s the guy she refuses to talk about. He’s brought it up a few more times, but she won’t even tell him the guy’s name. Apparently, it’s news.

“There are so many rumours about what her friends did to him. Castrated, murdered, hit and run, trashed his apartment, threatened him. Whatever they actually did to him,” Kihyun shakes his head in dismay, “he stopped going here.”

Jihoon frowns. “What?”

“So, tread carefully. Those girls can make you disappear.” They slow in front of two doors. Music drifts out of one of them. “Here you go.” He points to his right. “Inorganic chemistry research.” And to the door across the way. “Analytical chem.” He motions further down towards a few more doors. “All of those are the organic chemistry research labs.”

Jihoon has no idea which one she’s in. “Thanks.”

Kihyun backs away the way they’d come. “See you at Chanyeol’s tomorrow night?”

Jihoon nods. “Yeah. Should be there.”

“Man’s finally graduating and he’s throwing the biggest party ever,” Kihyun sings.

Jihoon peers through the glass window of the lab closest to him. He remembers her saying something about hydrogen when he’d asked about her research. And there was something about catalysts.

He manages to catch the attention of someone in the lab; a girl he recognizes but can’t place.

The girl opens the door. “Yeah?”

He explains why he’s there.

“Oh.” The girl gives him a once over. “Yeah, I’ll get her.”

“Hey, Lee Jihoon is standing outside asking about you,” Chaeyoung says.

She stops what she’s doing for only a second. “Okay, thanks.” She finishes swirling the vial in front of her eyes, only growing more frustrated when the stuff still doesn’t dissolve. She nudges her glasses a bit higher on her face and then glances over at Chaeyoung who hasn’t moved. “Something else?”

“Are you dating Jihoon?”

“Dating?” She shakes her head. “Jihyo’s been seeing Seungcheol, so we’ve been hanging out more.” She’s about to get back to work but pauses. “Why?”

“Just…” Chaeyoung seems like she’s going to stop herself and decides against it. “I’d just be careful around him.”

“Jihoon?” She scoffs. “I’m well aware.

Chaeyoung continues. “He’s good at being nice, but he’ll 180 you just as quickly. He really embodies that saying ‘Treat them mean, keep them keen’.”

She puts the vial down and leans her hip against her workbench. “When did you date him?”

Chaeyoung sighs. “Last year. We met at a party and dated for a few months. Then he suddenly ghosted me.” She looks up to the ceiling as if asking for strength. “He didn’t even ghost me. I went up to him one day to ask him something and he said, ‘I’m ignoring you now. Please go away.’”

That surprises her. She’d heard about Jihoon’s tsundere vibe, but never to what extent. “Wow. Thanks for the warning.”

Chaeyoung nods. “I just… I know we didn’t date for that long, but that last encounter really stung. I don’t want to see someone else getting hurt because of him.”

“Seriously. Thank you.”

Chaeyoung pats the bench twice before walking off.

She thinks a moment before taking her gloves off and checking her phone. She sees the messages from Jihoon and Jihyo. She also notices the time and realizes she’s been in the lab for 8 hours. After cleaning up her station, she heads to the door and slips out of her lab coat.

Jihoon is standing in the hallway on his phone with a bag of food in his hand.

“Hey.” She pulls her hair out of its bun. “So… food?”

Jihoon holds the paper bag up and finishes whatever he’s doing on his phone. He pockets it. “You got time to eat?”

“Give me a second?”

Jihoon nods. “Sure. Not like the food’s getting cold or anything.”

She knows he’s joking, but after what Chaeyoung said, it hurts a little. She heads into the student office and collects her things. She also changes back into the dress she’d worn to school, shrugging her cardigan on as she steps back out.

Jihoon gives her a once over. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a dress before.”

She hums. “Too easy to flip at a party.” She eyes his hands. “You better keep your hands away from me.”

Jihoon holds his free hand up. “I wouldn’t dare.”

They wander down the hallway towards the skywalk. There are a few couches that look out on the green rather than the parking lot on the other side. She sits first, setting her backpack on the side table, and tucks one leg underneath her so she can turn towards him. Jihoon distributes the food, handing her a burger and putting the fries between them. There’s a Coke bottle inside the bag, which he puts on the floor near their feet.

“You okay?” he asks as he opens the box of his burger.

“Okay?” She’s already taken a bite.

“You had a look on your face.”

“Ah.” She shakes her head. “Spent 8 hours trying to dissolve my compound in every solvent in the lab. Still won’t dissolve.” She tries a smile. “Guess I’m just frustrated.” It’s only half a lie.

Jihoon thinks he understands what she’s saying. “So… now what?”

She picks up a fry. “There’s one solvent I’ve been avoiding because it makes me want to gag, but it might work. I’ll have to try it tomorrow.”

“When’s your presentation?”

“Next week, so I’m hoping that I can finish up as much as I can this week.”

“Do you just forget to eat when you’re in lab?”

She chuckles. “Normally, no. But with a deadline, I guess time just got away from me. When the music’s playing and I can’t really see any windows from my bench,” she shrugs, “it’s easy to lose track of time.”

“Sounds like me in the studio.”

“Were you in the studio? I hope you didn’t come all the way from your place to bring me food.”

Jihoon snorts. “I would not have brought you cafeteria food if I had come from home. I have a final project to finish before the end of exam week.”

She hasn’t asked to visit him in the studio. One of the things girls seem to find appealing is his ability to make music. Most of them ask if they can listen or visit him. If they’re really brazen, they ask if he’s written songs about them.

Jihoon can’t help but wonder what she thinks.

“Do you want to see it?”

“See what?” She digs around for a ketchup packet in the bag.

“The studio.”

She glances up at him before going back to her task. “To see what exactly?” A smile breaks out when she comes up with three ketchup packs. She breaks open two of them and squeezes them into the lid of her burger box.

“I don’t know.”

She chuckles. “Is that one of your moves? Bring a girl to the studio? Have sex in the studio?”

Jihoon throws his head back with a laugh. “I can’t say I’ve ever had sex in there.” He tips his head and chews thoughtfully. “If the doors locked, I would. The soundproof walls would be perfect.” He catches her eye. “But no, it’s not one of my moves. Girls just seem to like to visit me there. Or want to hear the music or something.”

She dips a fry in the ketchup. “That makes it sound as if you don’t invite them there.”

“They usually ask.”

“Should I have asked?”

“I get this vibe that you only ask questions you want to know the answers to. So I’m assuming that applies to asking if you can visit me in the studio.”

This makes her laugh. “What do you even have to show me? It’s not as if you’d show me works in progress.”

Jihoon’s head snaps in her direction at that. “How do you know?”

Her eyebrows rise in surprise at his reaction. “Well… when I paint, I don’t want people to see things until they’re finished. Then I can gauge if it’s good enough to show.” She pops a fry into her mouth. “I’d assume that you’re the same, right?”

Jihoon lightly pushes her and then points. “Exactly!”

Grinning, she continues, “So, I would’ve been surprised if you even wanted me in your studio.”

Jihoon throws his free hand up in the air. “Wow. Yes. I rescind my invite.”

She nudges him with her arm. “Totally fine. Means I can go home early.”

“I’ll walk you home.”

She waves her hand over him. “You don’t have your bag or your coat.”

“You can come to the studio with me and then I’ll walk you home.”

She shakes her head. “Completely unnecessary. The sun’s only just started setting. It’ll be up until I get home.”

Jihoon looks her directly in the eye and takes a bite of his burger. She rolls her eyes. “Right, you don’t take no for an answer.”

“I’m glad you’re learning.”

There’s a pause in the conversation. In that time, three professors walk by and greet her. Someone who must be her supervisor stops to ask her about research. They talk chemicals and compounds that Jihoon only vaguely understands. There’s something about electrons and withdrawing. Nitro groups?

Jihoon stops listening after a while. He doesn’t say anything until her supervisor walks away.

“People know you in the science department.”

She picks up the napkin that she’d been folding in her lap and drops it into the bag. “I’m a fourth year. Don’t a lot of professors know their students by fourth year?”

“Mine do, but the science department is a lot bigger than my tiny music department.”

She rolls her eyes. “The chemistry department here is pretty small. The ecology professors know who I am.” She gauges his expression and shakes her head. “Boring science stuff.”

Jihoon used to agree. “How long have you liked science?”

There’s a pause before she admits, “I can’t say I really like it that much anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

She hums as she sips on the Coke he offers. “I didn’t really know what I wanted to do, but decided on science because ‘that’s where the money is’.” She rolls her eyes. She’s quoting someone; he wonders who. “Now, it’s just kinda too late to switch degrees.”

“What would you rather be doing?”

“Well… if we’re being honest, just not in school. But here we are.”

“Here we are,” he echoes. He can’t imagine being in school for something he didn’t love to do. If he weren’t into music, he probably wouldn’t have done university at all.

“But ecology is interesting. Plants and fungi are great. I’d love to do something in conservation.”

“Yet you do chemistry research?”

“Chemistry is just more for fun,” she laughs. She licks her bottom lip. “What about you? Why music?”

“I’m bad at expressing myself like this,” he waves his hand back and forth between them, “but I can put everything I want to say in song. And hide meanings in the lyrics.”

She studies him. “You know I’m going to ask.”

Jihoon juts his chin in her direction to encourage her to continue.

“Have you written a song about any girls you’ve dated?”

Jihoon snorts. “No. I haven’t.”

“Women you’ve slept with?”

He laughs harder. “Maybe not any of them specifically, but definitely the experiences.”

“So… how many women have you slept with?”

“Why… would you want to know that?”

“I’m under the assumption that you’re seeing other girls besides me,” she explains. “So, what are your numbers like?”

Jihoon does typically see multiple girls at a time, but the amount of effort he’s had to put in with her means he hasn’t had time to meet anyone else. “Well… I can’t count how many girls it is, but at the moment, you’re the only one I’m seeing.”

She tips her head. “You’ve been with so many girls that you can’t even count them?”

“Last year, I was seeing 5-6 different girls a month, 12 months a year…”

“60 minimum last year,” she answers. “And how many this year?”

“Well, January, and then we met halfway through February.” Jihoon shrugs. “4.”

“Me included?”

“Including you is 5.” He reads her expression, the question of why she’s the only one all over her face. “We’re being honest, right?”

“Yes…”

“I’ve had to put a lot of time into you.” He sucks some of the sauce off his thumb. “Maybe I’m intrigued by what your idea of love is.”

She chuckles and motions between them as she bends over to drop her burger box into the paper bag. “This is not what I think it should feel like.”

“So, what should it feel like then?”

“If you’ve never loved someone, Jihoon, I really can’t explain.”

“What about your relationship with Jungkook was so good that you guys can still be friends?”

She snorts. “Oh god. Jungkookie and I couldn’t be friends for a year after we broke up. But,” she shrugs, “his existence was just good for me. Complimented the life I was living, didn’t make it difficult to know what he was thinking. We were honest with our feelings, honest right until the end about where we stood in the relationship.”

Jihoon wonders if all relationships feel like that. “And your relationship after him?”

She rolls her eyes and turns away from him. She digs around for her water bottle and takes a swig. “Yeah, right. You won’t get that out of me.”

“I heard that your friends castrated him.”

Her laugh is hard and sharp, nothing like the other laughs he’s gotten out of her before. “I don’t know what happened to him, honestly. The girls never told me. I heard everything through the grapevine.”

“So… he’s not… dead?”

She shrugs.

Jihoon’s stomach clenches.

“If you’re insistent on walking me home, should we grab your stuff?” she asks, changing the subject entirely.

Jihoon packs up his garbage and picks up the Coke. He opens the cap, hears the fizz, and then takes a few sips. “Why do you not like to talk about him? You won’t even tell me his name.”

“He was important to me, but I… underestimated him. Let’s leave it at that.” Her back is to him, as she bends over to grab her bag. “Please stop asking about him.”

Now that he knows that other people know about Byunggyu, he doesn’t have to pry as much. Someone else must know what actually happened to the man. So, Jihoon agrees not to ask anymore.

[a-gromova]

Berlin long-post

Guys, this will be a very long post. VERY. Perhaps it will be something like an essay.

For the first time in many years, I can clearly say what level I like in the game (I can just as clearly name my favorite location only in the first season). Yes, I want to talk about Berlin (are there people who were left indifferent to the level?). I just want to express my thoughts, which came to my mind during the walkthrough. This is partly an attempt to piece together a puzzle of information about the characters (47, Grey, Olivia, Diana), which is diluted with screenshots. I would be glad if you read it and express your opinion. Maybe you will correct me or, on the contrary, supplement my words, because the stream of thoughts can take me completely in the wrong place.

Spoiler territory begins, so be careful. Well, in general, everything is the same as always: if you are too lazy to read, you can look at dicks pics, they are pretty good (I think).

For me, Berlin is Hieronymus Bosch in its purest form. The level is disgusting inside and out (and I say this in a positive way). This include the oppressive atmosphere of emptiness, the behavior of agents, dialogues, the very environment of the club. It's all so nauseous, so... unnecessary. But it attracts. Bosch. Bosch in its purest form. This captivates me. This is the dirt you want to plunge into.

We begin the level in a ringing void, in which the beating of the heart is heard like a bell. I still haven't decided for myself whether it's a heart beating of 47 or not, but MY heart seemed to be beating in unison with it. And as soon as the club appears on the horizon, the beat of the heart flows into a musical beat. It's great. I don't know about you, but I'm delighted.

During the first walkthrough I immediately wondered: who killed this poor fellow? And now it seems to me that it was Olivia. Especially when you consider that the corpse is close to the gas station and in the phone conversation she, shivering, reports that she SEEMS to have killed one of the agents. Why ''SEEMS''? Because, obviously, the injury was non-lethal. We can ''read'' it on the corpse: the knife is stuck in the left shoulder. Sloppy, as if in a rush /chase. The injury is not lethal, but the guy had a hard time. Perhaps he died of blood loss much later.

I was obsessed with an idea that we need to find targets ourselves. Previously Diana did it for us, but "she can't help us now". First, I was confused. But later my mood was like ''HOW COOL IT IS''. I don't know why some ppl consider ICA agents as not remarkable. Guys, c'mon, I didn't even immediately realize that there are more than 5 of them, and they are all different! Each has its own position, undercover role, manner of speech. The agents are amazingly described, and for me they stand in the same rate with Tamara Vidal now (an insanely smart and interesting woman).

Have you ever seen Montgomery??? It's just FDIFSDJFKJFDKFLDKFLJSL. Such a DICK. Too bad 47 just kicked the table. It could be a way better if 47 low the table on agent's head and jump on the top of it. Smth like a control shot jump. Such a disgusting character... I hope that he just compensates his small penis with his speeches, because I just wanted to break his face for what he'd say.

I think you've already understand what exactly pissed me off in his speech. Yeah, the mention of Grey.

Aaaaand let's smoothly move on to this. Now I want to step back a little from the discussion of Berlin itself and say something to everyone who had a hard time going through the scene after Dartmoor. Yes, Lucas was my light, my sunshine and my motivation to play over the past years. Yes, his death was a shock (such a shock that I said "fuck" and turned off the game after 47 appears near the gas station). But I do not like being sad for a long time. Like... SAD.

Listen. Listen. It would be bad if after death the character disappeared from everywhere forever. THAT would be crap. It would be bad if there was not a single mention of him in the game after his death. But... Berlin, Mendoza, that fcking train. We learn A LOT of information about Grey here, which complements his portrait. C'mon! Chechnya, guard's and agent's whispering. Yes, damn it, they are afraid of him. If 47 is a legend, almost a myth, then Grey seems to be the real incarnation of the devil for them. I repeat, they are afraid of him. Otherwise I don’t know why a huge well-armed group was send to capture him (which walks on the train in sapper armor). I just listened to all these dialogues with a malicious smile and was like hehehe dats mah boiiiiiiiiiiiiiii

After all, the character is still in the fandom, the fandom has no end, everyone in it is alive and happy. So, Lucas, lie down, do not twitch, and I will bring hydrogen peroxide and a first aid kit.

If you don't call me the best psychologist after that, just don't talk to me ever again.There is so much shit in life, no need to be sad in such a good fandom. Just DON'T.

Let's return to Berlin. Or rather to Rolf, the owner of the club. From the dialogues we understand that he knew Grey for a long time. At first I even thought that it was Rolf who gave 47 and Grey motorcycles. These ones:

But then I quickly realized that I had problems with geography, and there was simply no point in bringing bikes from Germany to England. By the way, an interesting point: in my mind bike doesn't fit 47. Any expensive and stylish car - yes. Lucas is the opposite. The bike fits him, but the car is not.

I don't know what kind of "business" they had there. But if you consider that Grey already had experience working with the Delgado's drug cartel (and Rolf, for a moment, has a cocaine warehouse in a club), this "business" could be is somewhat similar to a mutually beneficial partnership with Rico.

And the very dialogue between Montgomery and Rolf hints us what could have happened if the one man didn't die, you know. And that's cool too. "To help him and two friends out to... well, slip away". As I understand it, this is about the so-called "Team Grey" (Lucas, 47, Olivia). And after Dartmoor everyone was supposed to meet in the safehouse in Berlin. It was an ideal plan, if the Constant hadn't found Diana and Grey. The only question is what would they do next. Planning to capture Edwards again, based on the dossier we've took from Carlisle?

Hell, I love IO because they leave a huge part of the plot just in the dialogues, which makes the game extremely replayable. And every time you pass a level you just oh. OH! This allows players make their own guesses and put the puzzle together. Not to mention the little things that are just scattered around the location. At first I THOUGHT I saw Florida Man. Then I realized that it is not my imagination. This guy is generally the best flexer:

I will end the essay with a comparison of 47 and the club logo. 

I love that the mission is called "Apex Predator" and the bikers' emblem bears Fenrir, an alpha predator from north myths that devours the sun. It is he who begins Ragnarok - the end of the world. It seems to me that this is a direct allegory to 47. It is in Berlin that his bloody procession begins, which puts an end to this story. But damn it, how nice to watch this end of the world.

That's it, I've already said a lot. Let me summarize briefly: 47 - alpha predator Lucas - lie down and don't move, I'm already going with a first aid kit Olivia - keep it up Diana - queen Montgomery - dick

[drazzilder]

A Fire in the Desert

By Drazzilder 

This is based off of a story my aunt told me when she was driving through the desert and was saved by a man who lived there. I had a dream about this after she told me.

Driving is something that comes naturally, but sometimes it can get you stuck in the middle of a bad situation. It is July and you are driving your average sedan through the deserts of Nevada in order to get to your friend who lives in California. You easily could have flown but there is something nice about driving by yourself, letting the miles go by as you enjoy the view. It has been about 50 miles since the last gas station with nothing coming up for about another 100 miles. It is just a single lane highway with nothing but sand on either side for what looks like forever.

Trouble occurs when you see the dashboard light up like a Christmas tree as smoke and steam start to erupt from under the hood. You pull off to the side of the road and open the hood, almost getting burned form the wall of steam coming from the engine. You don’t freak out; you have a cell phone so you pull it out to call for help. That is when you notice not a single bar of signal and then you really begin to freak out. It is over 100 degrees outside and you only have a few bottles of water with you. There is no way you could make it to the closer gas station. You believe you will die there, alone in your car with no one to save you.

It has been about an hour by the time you see a vehicle in the distance coming your way. As it approaches, you get on the road to try to stop whoever is driving it. You then see that it is a tow truck and it comes to a stop near your car. A large man comes out of the truck. He looks to be over 6’ 4’’, a large red scar goes down the left half of his face, and he is built like a house, probably over of 250lbs of muscle. He is wearing jeans, boots, and a short sleeve button-down shirt. The most striking part is his crimson red spiked hair. As he approaches you, you start to get scared. You are about normal height but this man towers over you, he could easily hurt you if he wanted to. He doesn’t say anything as he walks to the front of your car and begins looking at the engine.

“Um…. excuse me?”

“Looks like your radiator pump blew.”

“Ok?”

“It might be a couple of days till I can get the part but I have room at my shop for you to stay.”

“Wait, who are you? Why should I go with you, I don’t even know who you are?”

“My name is Enji. I live here in the desert. I have an auto repair shop here to help those who get stuck, like yourself. Help me hook your car up and we can get out of here faster.”

You help the man get your car on the tow truck and get into the cab with him. You’re still a little fearful of what this man might do so you try talking to him to maybe gauge what his plans are but he speaks first.

“I’m sorry, I forgot to ask you your name.”

“It’s (Y/N). Enji is a strange name for an American.”

“You are right about that; I am not from here. I moved from Japan about 10 years ago.”

“Why the middle of the desert?”

“I don’t really like talking about my past…”

“Oh…sorry…”

“It’s alright, you didn’t know.”

The conversation between you two continues as you approach a road you didn’t notice when you were driving before. It feels like a few miles pass as you see a building in the distance. The building is an old gas station, looks to be from the 60’s. There are a few rusted out cars around and some weeds growing in the pavement but overall, it looks like it hasn’t been touched in decades. The truck stops and Enji gets out. You soon follow him inside and see it is nothing like the outside. It has been fully modified to look more like a home than a gas station. The furniture might be a little old and dusty, but everything looks taken care of.

“Make yourself at home. Are you hungry?”

“Um…I guess.”

“I’ll cook us up some lunch and look at your car afterwards. Feel free to use the vending machine to get whatever drink you like, everything is free.”

“Do you have a phone so I can call my friend to let her know I’m going to be late?”

“It’s right over there.” He says and points to a corner of the room.

He disappears into the back and you get yourself a soda from the machine. After letting your friend know you’re going to be late, you look around at some of the pictures on the wall. You see a dusty frame of what looks to be a younger Enji with what looks like a family: a wife and 4 kids. The fact it has never been cleaned makes you wonder if that what his past involves. You then see a newspaper article taped to the wall. You see the headline “Desert Giant Saves Another Stranded Driver.” You begin reading it and realize the man in the article is the same man who saved you. It says on the paper that the reporter tried to locate the man but to no avail.

“Are you the giant of the desert?”

“Yup, I’m the one who saves people who need it. You must be looking at the newspaper clippings.”

‘I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”

“It’s fine, lunch is almost ready if you want to come back here.”

You take the man’s offer up and walk to the back. You find a large kitchen with a table and chairs in the center. Enji is still at the stove, finishing up the meal. You sit down and right as he finishes and brings you a plate.

“I hope you like fried rice.”

“That’s fine. Do you mind if I ask you some questions?”

“You can, but I might not answer them all.”

“That’s fair. First, why do you live here?”

“That’s about my past, I don’t like talking about it.”

“Ok, why save people who get stuck in the desert?”

“No one else is doing it, so I feel like it is the right thing to do. Plus, heat doesn’t bother me.”

“I have one last question…. what’s with that picture of what looks like you with a family?”

That must have been a touchy subject because he just gets up and goes outside to work on your car. It’s too late to apologies. The only thing you do is clean up the kitchen and sit on the couch. It is close to dusk when Enji comes back in.

“Looks like your pump is the problem. I called it in and it should be about 2 days till the part comes in.”

“I’m sorry about earlier….”

“Don’t worry about it. I see you cleaned the kitchen. Thank you.”

After some dinner, Enji falls asleep. You decide to head outside into the dark just to get some fresh cool air. You are there for about an hour when you hear some growling. You turn around to see a bobcat. You back up slowly as the large cat starts coming closer. You then try to run away but the cat sinks its claws into your leg and you fall. The cat then bites your arm and you begin to lose a lot of blood. You scream but you are far from the gas station at this point. You put your hands over your face and close your eyes in fear. Suddenly, you feel the air begin to warm up around you. Opening your eyes, you see flames coming from the distance towards you. A large flame then hits the cat and it runs away. You try to stand but the injury to your leg prevents that. When you look up, you see Enji, he has flames on his face and his shirt burned off. If you weren’t in so much pain, you would have enjoyed the view of his muscles and being picked up. The combination of pain and blood loss make you pass out.

You wake up the next morning on the couch with Enji putting a cool rag on your head. You try to move but the pain in your leg is too much and you groan in pain. Your arm is throbbing from the bite and the bandages are soaked with blood.

“Don’t move, that cut was really deep. I’m sorry I didn’t warn you about the bobcats. They like to hang out around here at night.”

“How did you save me? I saw flames everywhere.”

“I guess it is only fair to tell you since you saw that… I used to be a pro hero. The reason I am here is because my family all burned in a fire created by my son. I couldn’t save them and it was my fault for pushing my son too far. It became too painful staying in Japan, so I moved here. I haven’t had to use my quirk that much in years.”

“Wait, you have been here 10 years and you have a fire quirk? I knew you looked familiar, you’re Endeavor!”

With a sigh “I was….”

“I’m sorry. It must be hard for you to talk about it.”

“I’ll be fine. Here, drink this.” He says as he hands you some tea to drink. You take a few sips and he leaves and comes back with more bandages. “We need to change the bandages and clean the wounds on your arm. It’s going to hurt. Here, bite down on this.” He puts a clean cloth to your lips. You bite down and he starts slowly unwrapping your arm and start to groan in pain again as he gets to the last layer. He takes his time to make sure it isn’t too painful as you finally see what’s causing the pain. There several large holes in your arm and you look at Enji who has a brown bottle in his hand. “I’m sorry for this.” Is all he says before he starts to pour hydrogen peroxide over your arm. The groans turn to muffled screams as the liquid flows into the wounds. You slam against couch to try to relieve some of the pain as he holds your hand to keep your arm still. It isn’t long before you feel cold water flowing over your arm and the pressure of bandages wrapping your arm. Once finished, you look back up to Enji, panting with the cloth still in your mouth.

He takes the cloth from you. “I’m sorry for that. We need to make sure that doesn’t get infected. The nearest hospital over 200 miles away.”

With shortness of breath “It’s ok…. Enji…. can I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.”

“I think I know why you’re here… helping people. You still want to be a hero, don’t you?”

After a moment of silence, Enji sighs and speaks. “I do but I don’t know if I can anymore.”

“The way you came to rescue me tells me that you still want to save people.”

“After all this time…. I can’t just go back.”

“Why not? You look like you were in top form right there, flying at my with the speed and power of the Endeavor I have seen in videos.”

“I don’t know if I can go back, the memories hurt too much.” He says while looking away.

“You don’t have to go back to Japan, you can be a hero here in America. We still need heroes here.”

“I guess….”

“I bet you still have your hero suit.”

“I do, it was such a large part of my life I couldn’t just throw it away.”

“Put it on.”

“What?!”

“Put it on, you might feel like a hero again.”

“Fine….” He says as he leaves. You hear the sounds of rummaging and a few grunts. The gas station was then filled with silence but Enji soon came from the back. When he comes out, he is in his hero suit, looking like he always did. He didn’t turn his flames on but the suit still glowed from his quirk. The then walks to you and sits down on the couch.

“Feel anything?”

“Not really….”

“Try using your quirk. Let’s go outside and see what you can still do.”

“Why are you helping me?” the man says with a confused look.

“You saved me from the desert, I should repay you somehow. I know you won’t take my money. Plus, I would read about how you disappeared suddenly. I always wondered what happened to you. To think you were here all alone this entire time, I can’t imagine what you have been though to end up here.”

Enji then lifts you to take you outside. You’re in the shade sitting in an old car chair. Enji walks about 20 feet away and sighs. He turns on his flame mask and beard and looks at you. You just give him a nod of reassurance. He then jumps up high and uses his quirk to keep himself floating. A fire spear is spawned in his left hand and he throws it at a bush and it catches fire. He then starts to create some large fireballs and throws them at some cactuses. A smile is forming on his face as he begins to start enjoying himself. After a few more minutes of this, he stops and walks to you.

“Do you feel like a hero now?” you say looking up at him.  

“With the suit on, I feel something. I haven’t felt like this in so long, like I was holding myself back.”

“That’s good. Do you still want to hide here in the desert?”

“As nice as it is to help those people here, I think I could be useful elsewhere. I need time to think about it. Thank you.”

“Great. Now can we go back inside, it’s getting hot.”

You head inside and Enji cooks some lunch. Your bandages on your leg needed to be changed after the meal, but you were more prepared for the pain this time. Enji finished wrapping up your leg and looked went back to change out of his hero suit. Coming back, he turned on the radio and you both listened to some music while talking. He asked you about your life, why you were driving through the desert, and other small things. You hesitated to ask about his family, but he did reveal some information, it is still a tough subject for him. After dinner, Enji goes to bed you try to sleep on the couch. You hear the sounds of more bobcats outside of the gas station. You’re afraid they might get in somehow so you get up and hobble to Enji’s room. The noises you made must have woken him up.

“Is everything ok?”

“I can hear the bobcats, I’m scared. Can I ask you something?”

“What is it?”

“Can I sleep in your bed…. I don’t know if I can sleep alone right now?”

“That’s fine. You probably will have nightmares about those cats tonight. Here.” he says as he shifts in the bed and opens the covers. He is only wearing pajama bottoms at this point but you don’t care, your too frightened to care about anything else. You get in the bed and he lays on his back and you’re on your side facing away from him. You manage to calm down enough to fall asleep.

You are startled awake in the middle of the night by a snort from Enji. You come to quickly realize that you are in Enji’s arms, holding you tight while still asleep. His breath is going down your neck, driving you insane feeling the warmth with each breath. His skin is so warm against yours; it feels so nice but you know it’s not right. You try to wiggle your way out of his embrace but it seems to only cause him to tighten his grip on you. Then you start to feel something behind you, growing.

“Enji… wake up….” You whisper loudly.

“What?” he mumbles. He then wakes up more to realize what’s happening. He quickly let’s go of you and sits up on the bed. “I’m…. sorry…” he says still groggy. “I didn’t mean to…”  

“Don’t worry about it. You were asleep, you can’t control what your body does in your sleep.”

“I don’t what you to think that’s why I brought you here.”

“I know you didn’t bring me here for that.” You say using your uninjured hand to hold his hand. “Come on, let’s go back to sleep.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m not worried about it.” You say laying down. He soon follows and falls asleep. You wake up to the light of dawn. Enji has his arms around you again. You are facing him but this time you are prepared. There is a faint smile on his face, something peaceful and calming. You slowly move to wake Enji up. He opens his arms to release you. He sits up on the bed, his face red with embracement.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why….”

“You have been alone for years; your body probably wants to feel the touch of another person after all this time.”

“I haven’t been with anyone since then. It makes sense. We need to change your bandages then I’ll make some breakfast.” There was some more pain in the morning and Enji hardly spoke during breakfast. You go back to the couch and Enji joins you again. He just sits there silent until you speak.

“Are you ok? You haven’t said anything all morning.”

“I’m just thinking.”

“About what?”

“My emotions… I never really think about them much.”

“What do you mean?”

“I haven’t felt like this in so long.”

“You like me, don’t you?”

“What? How did you…”

“You mumble in your sleep. It’s cute.”

Now with his face completely red “I didn’t want you to think that is why I wanted to take you here. Your car really needs a new pump.”

“I know but the heart wants what the heart wants. You can’t control that. Speaking of my car. The part should be here today and I’ll be leaving.”

“I know.”

“Did you want to come with me?”

“What?”

“You don’t have anything here, nothing to hold you back. We can work together to get you back into hero work, work to make you happy again.”

“I can’t ask you do to that for me.”

“I want to. I saw the look on your face when I woke up in your arms. You looked happy, something I haven’t seen from you my entire time here. When you put that suit on, I saw a spark in your eyes, I bet you haven’t felt like that in years. Come with me and we can work on that.”

Enji just looks at you, still red with embarrassment. This lasts for a little while before he moves on the couch and goes to hug you. You do your best to hug him back. It feels like a forever when you start to feel something wet on your shoulder. You pull back to see Enji crying.

“What’s wrong?”

“No one has ever cared about me. I helped hundreds of people and no one cared about me or who I am. You’re the first person in so long that cares what I feel.”

“Here, let me help with that.” Is all you say right before you kiss him on the lips. Enji is startled but begins to kiss you back. Time slows as you continue to kiss him while he embraces you. You break and look at the man in front of you, with a huge grin on his face.

“How was that?”

“It was nice…do you still want me to come with you?” he says almost looking like he is afraid of your answer.

“I said I wanted you to come with me, that hasn’t changed. Let’s pack you stuff up before the pump gets here.”

The morning is filled with packing up boxes of stuff, packing clothing, and cooking some lunch. The delivery man comes and Enji quickly fixes your car. You’re sitting in your car and start the engine, relieved to hear it finally start again. Enji comes out with only a suitcase and puts it in the back on your car and gets inside.

“What about everything we packed?”

“I don’t need any of that. I just need my hero suit. I think I can finally move on from my past.”

“What about everything here?”

“Maybe someone else who needs to find themselves will find this place. Maybe that’s why this place still exists.”

“Well, if you’re ready to go.”

He just nods and you begin to drive, the gas station disappearing past the horizon. The drive home was quiet, but you know there is a lot of emotions going through his head. It will take some time but maybe Endeavor will rise again.

[alphabet-blues]

For @volantium and @parkner-keenker

Read on Ao3

Title: ‘tis the season

Pairing: Harley Keener/Peter Parker

Fandom: Spider-Man (Tom Holland), and MCU

Chapters: 1/1

Rating: General Audiences

Word Count: 4,699

Content Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Tags: Christmas, Christmas Fic, Holiday Party, Light Angst, Angst and Fluff, Kissing, Childhood Trauma

Summary:

To Harley, Christmas had only ever been a series of disappointments.

To Harley, Christmas had only ever been a series of disappointments. 

It was hard for him to remember any Christmases before his Dad left. His whole childhood was split into two categories: a section of Before his Dad left, and then all of the After. He had vague memories of a tree in their living room, a real tree, one that smelled like pine and left needles on the floor that Harley had to be cautious of. Occasionally there were flashes of Abbie crawling on the floor in a bright pink onesie, delighted by all of the commotion Harley had caused by opening his presents. 

Those were some of the good ones. 

When Harley was 7, and Abbie was 4, they had to take the Greyhound by themselves. Their Dad had left the beginning of the year. They hadn’t seen him since that day in February when he had up and left. Harley hadn’t gotten his hopes up, but when their Dad had arranged tickets for them to ride the bus up to his new place in Ohio, Harley let himself wonder what it would be like to have the back and forth. To have elusive summers at their Dad’s, instead of staying where they were. 

That was the last time Harley fooled himself into believing that their Dad cared. 

Their Mom hadn’t wanted them to go, especially alone, but she couldn’t miss a shift at the diner, and so it went. Harley and Abbie were both loaded up with backpacks of their own, filled with snacks and drinks, and a couple of dollars tucked into the zipper pocket at the front of Harley’s bag. Harley had held Abbie’s hand in a vice grip nearly the entire time, not wanting to lose her for an instant, even if they were sitting next to each other on the bus. 

The 6-hour ride on the bus was uneventful. Abbie was mostly entertained by her LeapFrog, until it died a few hours in. After that, she had fallen asleep with her thumb in her mouth, and her head resting on Harley’s shoulder. The bus eventually rolled to a stop once they got to their station. Abbie was tired and groggy, so Harley had carried her the best he could manage with his tiny arms. He stepped into the station and they waited. 

Two hours in, Harley got a sinking feeling.

It was the night of Christmas Eve, and it was only getting later, and closer to Christmas morning. Their Dad was supposed to have met them there and picked them up at the station. By the time three hours had passed, and Abbie had blinked herself into a more alert state, Harley knew that their Dad wasn’t coming. 

“Come with me. Hold my hand.” Harley had instructed, tugging Abbie close. Abbie had nodded dutifully, and held out her hand for Harley to take in a bone-crushing grip. She followed him as he went up to a lady at the ticket counter. He pulled out a crumpled dollar bill from his bag and held it out to her. 

When he asked if she had a phone he could use, she pointed him in the direction of the payphone outside. She gave him change for his dollar and told him to come back inside and ask for help if he needed it. Harley had said, “Yes ma’am, thank you, ma’am,” which made her smile. 

The payphone was a little ways away from the station and in the parking lot. It was cold; cold enough that Harley shivered in his coat. Abbie was bundled in a giant puffer jacket that threatened to consume her whole. Harley still frowned, and ushered her in close, shielding her from the wind, while he dialed the number he had memorized ever since he went into Kindergarten. His teeth chattered as he waited for it to connect.  

Their Mom picked up after a few rings. There hadn’t been a point up until that moment that Harley had wanted to cry. But, when he told his Mom over the phone that their Dad hadn’t showed, he had to bite his lip to keep it from wobbling. His Mom was nearly hysterical almost immediately, and Harley and Abbie were going to have to wait for her to drive up to get them, which meant six more hours, at least, at the station. It would be well into Christmas morning by the time their Mom would get there. 

That set the tone, really. 

Once Harley had put the payphone back onto its hinge, he had trudged back into the station, with Abbie in tow, mostly tucked under his arm. The lady at the front desk immediately took pity, and made sure to supply them with water and snacks. She even at one point in the night/morning procured a deck of cards, and taught Harley how to play War, while Abbie watched on with glee. After they had gotten their fill of that game, the lady at the desk taught them how to play Blackjack and Poker, the latter Abbie took to like a sponge, even if she didn’t grasp everything completely. It was fun, but-

It still didn’t alleviate the burn of knowing that their father had abandoned them, again. 

As the night waned on into morning, Abbie and Harley both fell asleep, by a bench in the corner, half on top of each other, using their backpacks as makeshift pillows. Harley had woken up a bit later and saw his Mom, frenzied and talking to the lady at the desk in hushed voices. 

“Mama?” Harley had called out, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. The action caused Abbie to stir next to him. Almost as soon as she processed that their Mom was there she started to cry. Their Mom rushed over to her, and scooped her up into her arms, while Harley held onto her one outstretched hand. 

They said goodbye to the front desk lady, and their Mom buckled them into her car, which was idled out front. It was old, and beat up, and in no condition to be doing a long drive, but she had made it there nonetheless. Their Mom was too tired to do the drive back, so they rented a nearby motel room to get some sleep. They all slept together in the same bed until it was close to evening on Christmas Day. 

The drive home was mostly silent. Harley didn’t have any idea why their Dad hadn’t shown up for them, but he knew that he shouldn’t ask. Every once in a while on the drive their Mom would start crying. When she did, Harley would look out the window. He couldn’t stand seeing his Mom cry. 

When they got home it was late, and they were all exhausted. Regardless, their Mom had insisted that they open presents under the tree. Abbie and Harley both opened their couple of presents, and did their best not to act glum. It wasn’t even Christmas anymore. 

Harley spent most of the night thinking about Ohio, and what was so great there that their Dad didn’t want them anymore. 

*

The following Christmas, it was like walking on eggshells. They never discussed the events of the previous year, but they still hung in the air. Their Dad leaving was fresh, even if it had been over a year since he had walked out the front door and never came back. But even when he had walked out the door that day in February and never looked back, Harley never felt abandoned until him and Abbie were sitting alone at that bus station.

*

The Christmas after that, Tony Stark of all people showed up. It gave Harley hope, for once. Maybe this Christmas wouldn’t be so bad. Then, Harley watched a girl burn alive, her skin turning into a molten orangey-glow that made him sick to his core. Tony was different from what Harley had seen on TV, and he looked tired, like his Mom after a long shift. 

Harley had just started to give Christmas a chance - then Tony left, too. Just like everyone else.

*

All of the Christmases after that held nothing of note. By the time Abbie and Harley were teenagers, Christmas was barely a holiday in the Keener house. It wasn’t a thing, but rather an unspoken agreement. Christmas couldn’t become a disappointment if there were no expectations to begin with. 

Everything, of course, changed when Harley met Peter. 

*

Falling for Peter had kind of been like staring at the sun. When Harley focused on him for too long his retinas singed, but he couldn’t look away. Peter was kind, and smart, and funny, and so much all the time that Harley had to pinch himself whenever Peter trained all of his brightness onto him. He was beautiful. He was a nuclear fusion of hydrogen; a swirl of helium that took up so much more than every star Harley could ever make out in the sky. As far as Harley was concerned, Peter was the milky way, and he was sitting on the grass tracing constellations. 

*

They had been dating for six months by the time Christmas season rolled around. What Harley hadn’t accounted for was how much Peter loved Christmas. He was bundled up in sweaters almost as soon as the calendar passed into December. His apartment had a tree, and was filled to the brim with decorations, and lights. He wanted to watch a slew of Christmas movies, and never failed to hum along with whatever Christmas song was playing in a store they were at, all while still always holding Harley’s hand. 

Harley did his best to tune it out. He wasn’t a grinch, but, he was never going to have anywhere near the same level of enthusiasm that Peter did about the holiday. He wanted Peter to enjoy himself, and it was nice, seeing him so happy and excited. Harley couldn’t risk him losing the little gleam in his eyes that he had grown accustomed to.

But then, Christmas Day had came, along with the same loneliness that caught up with him like clockwork every year. He was invited over to May’s by Peter. He had initially planned on going, for Peter’s sake, but backed out last minute, much to Peter’s disappointment. He just didn’t think that he could bear it. 

Somehow though, Harley had lucked out and managed to find the most perfect boyfriend in all of existence. When Peter wrapped up with Aunt May he came back to Harley’s apartment. It was late, late enough that Harley was already in bed and he was pretty sure it had passed into Boxing Day. Peter had shucked off his jacket and shoes noisily, then climbed right into bed with him, lining himself up along Harley’s back. Harley squawked at his frozen fingers and toes.

“Missed you,” Peter said into his neck, which made Harley snort. They had just seen each other that morning. 

Harley kissed him, then pulled back, grimacing. “You taste like eggnog.” 

Peter frowned, and Harley could see it even in the dark. Then he asked tentatively, his voice small, “Why don’t you like Christmas, Harls?” 

Harley didn’t say anything at first, and let out a breath. He ran his fingers up Peter’s torso and counted each one of his ribs. “I don’t…” Harley trailed off, not sure of what to say, or where to even begin. “It’s okay.” 

“I wanted you to have a good Christmas,” Peter said, and he sounded so morose, like it personally saddened him that Harley hadn’t had fun. 

“Christmases have never been good,” Harley eventually settled on, keeping his tone neutral. “They just - haven’t.” 

Peter tucked his face into Harley’s chest, then blinked up at him with those brown eyes of his, the ones that he knew were Harley’s weakness. “What happened?” He whispered, like if he asked too loud Harley might shut down and not tell him. He knew him well, well enough to wait him out. 

It was a few minutes later, when Peter’s breath had evened out, that Harley found himself saying, “When Abbie and I were little, our Dad left us at a bus station on Christmas.” 

It was quiet, only for a moment, long enough for Harley to wonder if Peter had heard him at all. But then, Peter said, his voice cracking, “Oh, Harley, that’s awful.” 

Harley laughed, despite himself. He couldn’t help it. Peter sounded so heartbroken, he had to let it roll off. If he internalized it, and really let Peter in deep he didn’t know if he could ever tug him back out. “It happens,” he said, with a breeziness he didn’t really feel, and did an awkward half-shrug from under Peter’s weight. “But I like that you like Christmas,” He said, wanting to get to the important part, because that’s what mattered. It was okay that Harley would get down on Christmas, because Peter loved it enough for the both of them. 

Or really, that’s the conclusion that Harley had come to. 

So, cue his bafflement when another year passed with him and Peter still together. They moved in together over the summer, and it was easy. It was easy in a way that nothing else in Harley’s life ever had been. It was almost the middle of December when Harley realized that Peter hadn’t so much said a word about Christmas, which was-

Concerning.

Harley thought about it for nearly the entire time it took him to get home from work. When he did, Peter was still out. He looked over their apartment with a new eye and made note that not a single decoration had been put up. He hadn’t even seen Peter pull out a single one of his Christmas sweaters. A bad taste grew in Harley’s mouth as his brain provided him with a theory.

You ruined Christmas for him, the voice in the back of his head supplied. 

And yeah, Peter hadn’t been as smiley lately, or as cheerful as Harley remembered him being the previous year. He had also been spending a lot of late nights out, ones that Harley never questioned, but now sat at the forefront of his mind. 

He had confided in him about his worst Christmas. He had even told him about the lady who had played cards with them and gave them food while their Mom was on her way. He had told him all about it because he had asked, but now, it felt like a mistake. 

He waited up for Peter to get home. He fucked around on Instagram, watching the door. Eventually, Peter came through it. He was swathed in layers from head to toe, his frame swallowed by a big puffy jacket, boots, a hat, and a scarf. His cheeks were bright red, and he gave Harley a delighted grin once he saw him. “Hey, babe,” he said cheerily, before swooping down for a kiss.

He went over to hang his jacket up when Harley prodded, “Where were you tonight?” 

“Just hanging out with MJ,” Peter said casually, not looking at him.

That would have been fine, except, Harley had seen MJ’s most recent story posted about an hour ago, and she had most definitely not been hanging out with Peter. 

Harley let it sit in the air for a few moments, enough to debate if he was going to call him on it. Though, he could never leave well enough alone. He sucked in a breath. “Where were you, really?” 

He watched Peter freeze, and then look at him with wide eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I know you weren’t with MJ,” He said, and hated how the words sounded as they spilled out of his mouth.

“Harley, I-”

“I don’t care,” he said, feeling exasperated. “Just...where were you?”

Peter slumped, shifting his eyes guiltily, and sunk his shoulders until he deflated. “I was wrapping presents,” he muttered, low enough that Harley could just barely make it out.

“What?” He said, going numb.

“I was wrapping presents, with May,” Peter said a little louder, but looked just as guilty.

Harley was heartbroken.

“Jesus,” Harley breathed, and tugged his hands through his hair, turning away so he wasn’t facing him.

“Harley-”

Harley cut him off, his voice raised, “You never put up a tree!”

“What?” Peter said, his brows knitting together in confusion.

“You haven’t said anything about Christmas this year, and now you feel like you have to sneak away to wrap presents with Aunt May?” 

Peter’s eyes widened, and he started wringing his hands together. “I don’t- I just-” he bit his lip. “I thought that maybe you couldn’t have a bad Christmas if we didn’t have Christmas.”

Harley closed his eyes. “That’s not what I want at all.” When he finally opened his eyes Peter was looking at him so dejectedly that Harley’s heart broke all over again. Harley motioned for Peter to come over to where he was on the couch. “C’mere, baby.”

Peter only hesitated for a moment before he melted against Harley, and let Harley manhandle him into his lap. “You were so sad last year,” Peter said quietly against his neck. “I didn’t want to make you sad.” 

Harley sighed. “I like that you like Christmas, okay? I do.” 

Peter seemed dubious. “You really mean that?” 

Harley nodded. “I like seeing you all excited, and happy. I hate that I ruined that.” 

“You didn’t ruin anything!” Peter insisted, even though Harley didn’t believe him.

*

They talked it through, but Harley still felt like he had ruined Christmas. It lingered above them, unresolved. Peter had yet to fully relax and indulge, at least not to the full extent that he had the previous year, when he was completely unguarded. He would broach the topic of Christmas ever since their talk, but would always glance shiftily at Harley afterwards, like he was waiting for him to be put-off. Harley couldn’t stand it, but he also couldn’t figure out how to fix it either. 

He resigned himself to calling Abbie. If there was one person on planet Earth who understood his fucked up feelings on Christmas - it was her. 

And of course, like the little genius she was, her solution had been simple:

“Why don’t you and Peter make a good memory together on Christmas?”

Which, huh. Harley had never given that a thought, but suddenly it made sense. All Peter had ever wanted was for Harley to have a good Christmas, but he had been too caught up in his own misery and angst to give that to him. 

“Christmas isn’t all bad,” Abbie said, seeing right through Harley, like always. “I know it kind of sucked growing up, but I went to Jen’s house for Christmas last year and it was so nice. Why don’t you and Peter just do something together?” 

“Fuck,” Harley said intelligently, and leaned back in his chair. He then gave Abbie his most charming smile over their video call. “Do you think you could make it up to New York this year?”

“To save your sorry ass, you bet,” She said, rolling her eyes, but gave Harley a smile at the end anyway. 

Harley wrapped up the phone call pretty quickly after that. He had a plan that he had to see through.

*

Getting everything lined up and everyone on board was a lot easier than Harley had initially anticipated. He had called May first, who immediately  insisted that if there was a holiday party of any kind that it should be held at the Tower, she also was sworn to secrecy from Peter. Next, Harley called Pepper. She was warm to the idea of having a slap-dash Avengers holiday party hosted at the Tower, and went into full cutthroat planning mode almost instantly, it was enough to make Harley sweat. 

Things sort of just fell into place after that. Roping their makeshift crew and everyone adjacent into accepting invitations went smoothly, and nobody let it slip to Peter what was going on. 

*

By the time Christmas Eve arrived, Harley was nervous. 

Getting Peter dressed and into an Uber was a little more precarious. He had made a few inquiring confused faces when Harley said he wanted to go somewhere, but otherwise didn’t question him. During the ride Harley did his best to distract him so he wouldn’t pay attention to where they were headed. Harley had a few texts on his phone letting him know that the party was in full-swing. Abbie had even sent him a few excited selfies she had taken from inside the Tower.

When the car slowed to a stop only a few blocks from the Tower entrance Peter abruptly quieted his idle chatter and furrowed his brows, looking at Harley. 

“Harley? What are we doing here?” Peter glanced back and forth between the car window and Harley, like he was trying to slot things together but they weren’t clicking just right, it was hopelessly endearing. 

“C’mon,” Harley said, his palms sweaty. “We don’t want to be late.” 

He dragged a dazed and confused Peter down the street, through the lobby, and eventually into the elevators in the Tower. 

“What’s going on!” Peter demanded as soon as the elevator door closed, and Harley had to hold back a smile at Peter crowding into his space and being all faux-threatening. “If you don’t tell me what we’re doing here I swear I’m gonna-” 

He was cut off by the doors parting on the top floor, and revealing a festive scene. Harley had to admit that Pepper had outdone herself. There were decorations and twinkle lights spread all around the room, casting everything in a warm glow. Various Avengers were scattered around, mingling, and laughing. And a giant, ostentatious Christmas tree sat in the corner, nearly reaching the ceiling, with mounds of presents piled underneath. 

“You-” Peter started, his eyes wide, before he whirled around to look at him. “Oh my god!”

Harley ducked his head, smiling sheepishly. His hands itched to stuff them inside of his pocket. “Surprise,” He mumbled.

Peter’s eyes went shiny. “You did this for me?”

Harley shrugged, he was sure the tips of his ears were probably pink. Yeah, he wanted to say, of course I did this for you, everything I ever do is for you. “You love Christmas,” is what he settled on instead. “Abbie said we just needed some good memories...so…”

Peter softened, and Harley only had half a second to brace himself before Peter launched at him, and he got an armful of messy brown curls. “I love you,” Peter told him, his voice full of wonder before he tugged him in for a messy kiss. “I can’t believe you kept this from me!” Peter breathed out before giving Harley a giggle of pure delight.

“I had some help,” Harley said, not wanting to take all of the credit. But Peter just gave him one of his small secret smiles, like he could see right through every word that came out of his mouth. It was intoxicating. 

“Gross!” A voice that Harley would recognize anywhere piped up from only a few feet away. “I thought we banned mistletoe for a reason!”

“Abbs!” Harley grinned, and broke away from Peter to give his little sister a hug, almost swooping her feet off the ground in the process. He pulled away enough to grab onto her shoulders. “You givin’ Stark a hard time?” 

“I’m on my worst behavior,” She declared with glee. “Tony won’t let me around Morgan, but I think it’s because he’s scared of the power we both possess.” 

“Atta’girl,” Harley laughed, and watched her head over to where Pepper was. 

Peter tsked. “You Keeners, nothing but trouble.” 

Harley’s grin widened as he brought a hand to Peter’s hip. “Yeah, but I seem to remember you likin’ some trouble.”

Peter’s eyes glinted dangerously, like he was about to spout off at the mouth, but then his eyes trained on someone over Harley’s shoulder. 

“May!” He yelled excitedly, and suddenly dragged Harley over to where she was. 

They bantered with May for a while until Wanda and Vision entered with their new set of twins and stole the show. Abbie immediately cooed over them, which Harley observed fondly. The Tower was packed with Avengers, and friends alike. Natasha and May tucked themselves into a corner, both with glasses of wine, and seemed to be getting on like a house on fire. 

Peter appeared to take in the scene with a mixture of admiration, and awe. He shot Harley these looks that said, “Can you believe this?” And a little part of Harley couldn’t. He was actually having fun. For the first time in his life he got it, he understood why Peter saw Christmas as something special. This time, Harley wasn’t just enduring Christmas.

A little later, once everyone was properly tipsy, Morgan had been ushered into bed, and Vision had fastened the sleeping babies into their carrier - the Poker game started. 

It had been Tony’s idea, and Harley had to hold back his snicker. Tony was cocky, already trash-talking everyone at the table. Harley initially wasn’t going to play, but Peter had goaded him into it. He said, “Please, Harley?” in just the right way to have Harley sighing and saying, “Deal me in.” 

“They don’t even know you’re going to win,” Peter whispered to him, and Harley decided not to tell him how wrong he was, he didn’t want to spoil the show he no doubt was going to get. It was cute. Harley was a damn good Poker player, and Peter knew it, too, but, he had also never had the joy of seeing Abbie Keener at full velocity. 

Harley met eyes with Abbie from across the table, and he could tell just by their sparkle that they were all in for it. 

It was safe to say that Abbie wiped the floor with Tony. 

She kicked his ass so hard that Tony had crowed in complete outrage, demanding a rematch. Abbie’s grin was downright devious when she beat them all again, and scooped up her chips (which were m&ms), collecting her loot. At this point, the whole table was shaking with laughter. Peter had buried his face into Harley’s shoulder halfway through the second game, so Harley could feel it vibrate through his collarbone every time he laughed. Harley had his arm flung back along the back of Peter’s chair, and he couldn’t help his manic, joyful grin whenever Tony shouted. 

“Where did you learn to play like that!” Tony interrogated, cutting through the teetering of the table. 

Abbie shot Harley a secret glance. “A lady at a bus station taught me, and Harleen over there, of course.” 

Harley could feel Peter going stock still next to him. But it was okay. It was good to joke about it, in a way. He was too busy laughing over the whole display to get down. “When are you gonna learn, old man, you never play Poker against the Keeners.” Harley teased. Peter’s choked snort from next to him was enough to coat him like a victory. 

Harley felt good. He felt warm, and satisfied as he peered around at everyone at the table. He wondered if this is what Christmas felt like for everyone else - a celebration, and excuse for a showcase of love. He could see the appeal.

Then later, much later, when most of the activities for that night had been cleared away and it had officially crossed into actual Christmas, Harley sat on the couch in the center of the penthouse. Peter was curled up next to him, a pile of sleepy goo in his lap. Harley idly carded his fingers through Peter’s hair while he periodically purred in content. 

Harley whispered, quiet enough that only Peter could hear, “Merry Christmas, baby.” 

Peter hummed. “Merry Christmas, Harls,” he mumbled back.

As Harley looked at the Christmas tree in the corner, with Peter’s warm breath on his leg, he couldn’t help but think that maybe Christmas wasn’t so much of a perpetual disappointment after all. 

[aelaer]

The Blood in Our Veins (a serial)

This came out faster than I expected.

Prompt (via @ironstrangeprompts): Kidnapped to play doctor for a still unseen other prisoner; Stephen realizes there is only one person on the planet who would have palladium in their blood.

This is unbetaed; apologies for any errors.

Part 1 |

Part 2 - Get Me Through the Night

The time on Stephen's watch read 5:24 P.M. on April 24, 2010. Doctor Baar caught him looking at his wrist as he helped prepare samples for the pharmaceutical chemist.

"If your watch is set for New York time, it will not match here. I do not think we are in America."

"What makes you say that?" Stephen asked. He was told that talking was allowed so long as they still worked, but a couple doctors gazed over at the camera as that was said. He got it; they were being both watched and listened to. Great.

"Breakfast should come in the next two to four hours. Or at least, they are more breakfast-like foods. Eastern European, maybe Middle Eastern. I am not entirely sure." The German doctor adjusted the microscope he looked into and kept his head down. "They do keep us well-fed, for what it is worth. You will not starve here."

Playing lab technician was not something Stephen had done since medical school and it was not something he particularly enjoyed. He wasn't exactly in the position to change his circumstances at the moment, however—and there were a lot of blood samples that needed preparation by someone, and he wasn't one of the lab specialists. So he took on the prep work. It was tedious, but necessary in their situation.

"Breakfast?" Stephen frowned. "Then when do they let us sleep?"

"At the beginning, when Doctor Ferguson and I were first brought here, we were permitted to sleep seven hours. They even dimmed the lights." Again the doctor kept his head down, appearing very focused on his work.

Stephen followed his lead and kept his eyes on the centrifuge tubes he was preparing. "How long have you been here?"

"For us, it has been a month. It was maybe two weeks later when Doctor Mahajan joined us. Doctor Weston has been here for only a few days." Doctor Baar typed a few notes into a computer and replaced the slide with another one; both slides had a small drop of blood upon them.

"I don't suppose that computer has an internet connection," Stephen muttered.

The chemist smiled dryly. "That would be useful, wouldn't it?"

Stephen had nothing to say to that and the conversation petered out into nothing.

————  

Stephen's watch read 6:41 P.M. when Doctor Mahajan asked if Stephen could be spared for more sample handling at her work station. He had hundreds of more questions, but Doctor Baar had asked for silence soon after their conversation and Stephen understood that need well and had followed his request.

"Thank you for joining in the work so quickly," Doctor Mahajan said after relaying her instructions to him. "I am surprised you didn't elect to sleep further first. You were heavily drugged."

"I get through stress best by working," Stephen replied, "though I haven't done lab work for some years." The knowledge that he had been kidnapped was a thought he had pushed into the back of his mind, placing it in a spot to deal with later (when he inevitably had to). In the meantime, he wanted to distract himself as much as possible and gather what information he could regarding his circumstances, and he had the opportunity to do both right now.

Doctor Mahajan continued lowly, "Doctor Weston has been helping us a lot since her arrival, but she deserves further rest. She remained awake during her time to sleep to monitor you."

Stephen had been instructed by her to place samples onto slides and label them in a specific manner on both the slide and computer, so he was in the process of doing just that. "What is this about taking shifts to sleep? Doctor Baar mentioned it had not always been like this."

"It changed about a week ago," she answered. "It was just before Doctor Weston was brought here. Before, during my time here, they had only come in once to deliver new equipment that Doctor Ferguson requested."

"How're food and messages usually delivered?" Stephen asked.

"Through the slot at the bottom of the door," she said, then lowered her voice even further into a near whisper, leaving Stephen straining to hear her. "But they came in again." She went off on a tangent to add, "If they come once more, put your hands on your head, quickly. They're impatient." Doctor Mahajan then paused to enter something longer on her own computer before continuing to speak in a whisper. "They said the last time they came that only one of us could sleep at a time, and we needed to eat meals faster. There would be 'consequences' if we didn't." She quickly pivoted the subject. "Let me know when you are starting to get tired; my sleep shift started an hour ago, but Doctor Weston needed it more. We will need to adjust to about five hours a shift with your arrival, too."

Stephen frowned down at the slides as he listened to her words. "What could be so damn important that we can only sleep one at a time? What are these samples for?"

Doctor Mahajan didn't answer immediately. When she did, he again had to strain to hear her. "The less you know and the less you guess, the safer it will be for you. Please don't ask me again."

————  

The time was 8:30 P.M. in New York when Stephen finished his prep work for Doctor Mahajan. She had gone for her sleep shift about 45 minutes ago. Just as he finished, he heard a metallic scraping sound that sounded near-deafening in the quiet room.

"That's breakfast," Doctor Ferguson told him as she turned to face him. "We have a table to eat at over there." She waved a hand at a corner of the room. "They don't like us eating together all at once. We'll eat first."

She sent a couple silent gestures to the other two doctors, then went towards the door. Stephen followed her and eyed the entrance up and down. It looked like it was made of steel and in no way was going to be forced open. Beside the door were two large closed containers. Doctor Ferguson picked one up, leaving Stephen for the other, and he followed her to the table.

The containers turned out to be filled with an ample amount of food: several pieces of flatbread, a chunk of cheese, a chunk of butter, another container filled with a porridge of some type, and something that resembled yogurt but didn't quite smell like the yogurt he was used to. There were also two canteens of what turned out to be tea and coffee, and enough dishes and cutlery for them all.

"Doctor Baar wasn't kidding," Stephen muttered. "They do want us well-fed."

"It wouldn't do them any good if we were too weak to work," she replied. "Help yourself to whatever you want."

Stephen avoided the yogurt-looking substance, but took a bit of the rest and helped himself to some coffee. It wasn't spectacular, but it was manageable. "Doctor Baar mentioned that you, alongside him, have been here the longest Doctor Ferguson."

"Call me Jada," she answered. "It seems ridiculous to me to stand on titles in a situation like this. Summer—Doctor Weston—agrees with me." 

He raised his brows. "And the other two?" 

"Steffen doesn't seem to care either way; he's a tough read. Doctor Meera Mahajan always refers to us by title, and seems to want the same. I think it helps her disassociate from our circumstances—helps her cope. We're all worried, but she's having the toughest time of it." 

Stephen looked sidelong at the British woman as they spoke about her; she was currently asleep in one of the beds along the far wall. The stress lines across her brow had hardly faded. His eyes quickly caught sight of the unlabeled pill bottle on the floor just beside her cot. "Pills?" he asked. 

"Oh." Jada paused for a moment in thought. "She has a condition—best if she tells you, rather than me. I'm not her doctor, but…" 

"I get it," Stephen said with a slight smile. 

"Steffen has his own pills, too. A different condition. But you need to let us know now if you need anything daily; they'll have it to you within a day, if it's like when they got the other pills." 

He shook his head. "No, I'm fine." He then glanced towards the camera at the corner near the door. "They're very well-stocked." 

"Very," she muttered. 

"Who are these people?" Stephen muttered back. "What do they want with us?" 

"No idea who they are, but I can show you what they are having us do after breakfast." Jada jutted her chin to his plate. "Finish up; we've been talking too long without getting work done. They're even starting to get annoyed at longer showers. Though to be honest, I don't know why I still try and bother with long showers; that white people shampoo has completely ruined my hair." 

Stephen snorted softly at the unexpected comment. "Should send a complaint to management." 

She half-smiled. "We've gotten a few changes of clothes, extra towels, and water containers as needed—they brought stuff in for you when you arrived, by the way—but even I wouldn't push my luck with this group." Jada then turned fully to her meal and Stephen followed suit. 

After they ate, she led him back to her workstation. Doctors Baar and Weston took their turn to eat breakfast as Doctor Ferguson opened a cabinet. 

Stephen stared blankly at the contents within. On one shelf were a number of inorganic compounds: calcium hydroxide, lithium carbonate, lithium hydroxide, hydrogen peroxide, and lithium peroxide, to name a few. On another shelf chlorophyllin, several supplements in the form of vitamin C, vitamin B12, magnesium, calcium, and iron, and a bottle of Calcium EDTA were all in sight, though there were other things behind those. There were also various fruits, of all things, on the very bottom shelf. 

"The fruits aren't for us, by the way." She tapped a handwritten recipe beside the cabinet. "You can make the drink right now. We're making it twice a day at this point. Refrigerated items are over there." Jada gestured over to a small medical fridge. 

His bewildered gaze went from the cabinet to follow her hand, then fell on the recipe. "What the hell is this for?" 

"Our patient." She went to her microscope and placed a slide under it. After a moment of adjusting the focus, Jada said, "Come take a look at this." 

Stephen stepped up to the microscope and frowned to himself as he looked at what happened to be a blood sample. The white blood cells showed clear signs of toxic granulation and he saw both basophilic stippling and microcytic anemia in the red blood cells. 

"Well," he started, "the patient does not have normal-looking blood cells. I hope you have more than blood samples to work with." 

She half-smiled. "Lucky for us, we didn't have to search for what was causing these abnormalities. The patient has palladium poisoning." 

Stephen lifted his head from the microscope to stare at her. "Palladium poisoning? Is the patient chewing on engagement rings?" Seriously, palladium? 

"It gets weirder," Jada answered. "Calcium EDTA could solve the trick, but for whatever reason the patient is being continually exposed to this palladium and it's not leaving the body. The smoothie," she nodded to it, "was on us to make from the first day we got here, to treat symptoms and to limit the spread of the poisoning. We've added a couple other things to try and help the patient's body fight it. Start making a cup; we leave it at the slot and they collect it with our dishes." 

Normally Stephen would not be thrilled to be ordered around as such, but again, his circumstances weren't exactly normal—and his brain was still trying to come up with an idea as to where someone would be continuously exposed to palladium, of all things. 

As he began to make the drink and Jada returned to her own work at the microscope, he asked, "And I suppose that you've been tasked to find some sort of permanent cure against continuous palladium exposure." 

"Bingo," she answered. "During my second week here we began experiments with lithium compounds after we saw potential in the samples. After Doctor Mahajan arrived, she suggested lithium dioxide which has had the most effective results in slowing the poisoning. Several tests later, Steffen synthesized a stable mix with the least likelihood of side effects. 

"But as you saw, it slowed down the spread of poisoning; it hasn't done anything to fully stop it or repair the damage. We're still seeing a deterioration in the patient's tests. The current trend is leading into a direction that, if we don't figure something out soon, will leave the patient dead in two months—even with regular lithium dioxide injections." 

Stephen's frown remained a permanent fixture as he mixed the strange smoothie and listened to her. "Do these people know this?" 

"Yeah," she answered. "And a couple days after we told them, Summer arrived. We're still trying to find a more permanent solution, but she was given X-rays yesterday." 

"Doctor Weston did mention an X-ray earlier." 

"I haven't had a chance to look at them yet. I guess they are having her explore another avenue." Jada jutted her chin to the smoothie. "Cap the smoothie and leave it by the door; Steffen will put everything that needs to go back to them into place in the container. And if you're up for it, I could use a hand inputting all my notes into the computer." 

It was something to do, so he agreed.

—————  

It was 11:13 P.M. according to Stephen's watch when he agreed to take the sleep shift after Doctor Mahajan starting at about 12:30 (at least in New York). Steffen Baar had been after Meera Mahajan before Stephen's arrival, but the chemist wanted to finish some experiments that would take more than two hours to complete, apparently, so they 'may as well start the new shifts now'. 

So Summer Weston pulled him away from his transcribing work with Jada Ferguson to discuss some matters with him before he went to sleep. 

"Your latest paper on neurogenesis was fantastic, Doctor Strange. Some of the more complex concepts went beyond my medical knowledge, but what I did understand really excited me for what we may see in neurosurgery in the future."

His ego ate the compliment with ease, but he replied politely, "Thank you, Doctor Weston. Your own pioneering work with robotic cardiovascular surgery is bound to help cardiothoracic surgeons across the world."

She waved a hand. "Summer, please."

"Call me Stephen, then," he said. "You mentioned you had some X-rays?"

"Yes." They reached her workstation and she clicked on a folder on her desktop. "They're not incredibly helpful, though."

He was about to ask what she meant, and then the first image came up. Stephen raised his brows. The image was of a male torso with several splinters of some sort of foreign body scattered throughout the chest. But instead of showing the entire affected area as an X-ray usually would, the image was cropped midway up the torso, leaving off the upper chest entirely.

"And this one is why you're here, I'm afraid," Summer said, and again he was presented with a strangely cropped X-ray. This one was taken from the side; the spine and a couple inches of the body was shown, but it was cropped before the sternum. In what he could see from this X-ray and in comparison to the first one, there were a couple shards dangerously close to peripheral nerves and one uncomfortably close to the spine.

"How is this man still alive?" he muttered. "Are these shards causing the palladium poisoning?" What palladium item would create such trauma in the first place?

"It's amazing he's alive," she said in agreement. "And take a look at the heart X-ray." She went to the image (again cropped to cut off view of the sternum) and, other than the foreboding shards lodged about the area, he immediately saw the issue.

"His heart is too far left," Stephen muttered. "What's pushed it there?"

She offered him a slight smile. "I have written to them," she gestured to the computer, "that I will not be able to give them an accurate idea of surviving a surgery without full chest X-rays at the least, and that I would definitely need an orthopedic surgeon or neurosurgeon for the shards near the nerves." She then gave him an apologetic look.

Stephen didn't bother answering; what was done was done. "They can't expect us to perform surgery on this man without a full X-ray at the least."

"I don't think they want us to," she answered. At his questioning look, Summer clarified, "They're still trying to find a more permanent solution to the palladium poisoning with the other three, but they are running out of time. We're more of a last resort."

He wasn't quite sure how he felt about being a last resort (he felt a bit miffed, actually, but he had enough sense to realize that this was not a good time to express his annoyance). "Doctor Ferguson said two months at most." Stephen looked again at the X-ray, and he found himself frowning; something was tickling at the back of his mind, some piece of knowledge that was relevant to all this, but it remained elusive.

"Hopefully they won't wait until last minute for the surgery, then," she answered.

Stephen spent the rest of his time awake studying what imaging and tests had been made on this male patient (obviously no MRIs); but alongside the cropped X-rays there were extensive blood tests, images from a CT scan, urine tests, lung function tests results, and cardiac function tests. There was more than enough data to read through and get a better idea of the overall health of the man he might have to perform surgery upon.

When he eventually took his turn to sleep, he was exhausted and fell quickly asleep. Stephen's last waking thought was the puzzle of the palladium and the niggling, niggling suspicion that he was missing something he already knew.

————— 

A/N: Tony's injected with lithium dioxide in Iron Man 2 to slow his poisoning. In reality, this chemical compound doesn't exist. Its real-life cousin, lithium superoxide, would definitely not be good for his body considering you use Kelvin to measure its temperature (aka very very very cold). It's other cousin, lithium peroxide, doesn't seem nearly as bad, but not exactly what you'd call anywhere near accurate science. But this just means that the fic can get away with some Hollywood Science. 

Hollywood Science is used in the ingredients for his symptom-counteracting drink (for instance, chlorophyllin has no proven health benefits, just conjectures, and treating metal poisoning is a good deal more precise than I write here and the ingredients are all rather loosey-goosey, though I try to put some real world logic into it). Huzzah!

Medical people: if you see anything blatantly erroneous (and clearly not Hollywood Science in the form of fictional treatments), please let me know.

Tag requests: @sobeautifullyobsessed, @tashacumberbitch @babywarg, @nishtha3012, @ragingstillness, @walkin-in-the-cosmos, @lafourmii20. Others: Let me know if you want to be tagged for future updates in a comment (as it won't be on AO3 for a while and has no steady update schedule planned). Or let me know if you want to be removed.

[alarawriting]

Writeober 2020 #23: Space

Through the polarized faceplate of her suit, the sun was a round, sharply edged disk of brilliance, sitting low to the horizon, surrounded by a black sky.  The polarization blocked the stars if she looked sunward, but nightward, once she let the plate adjust, she could see the earthshine of the half-planet hovering ghostly on the horizon.  The solar plates were a forest of bright mirrors around her, glittering only slightly less brightly than they had a week ago at high noon.

“Lavonne, you moving on to Serenity this week?”

Serenity.  She smiled bitterly to herself.  She stood now in the Sea of Crisis, Mare Crisium, and she didn’t know when she’d be moving on to Serenity again. At least she hadn’t been working at Fecundity this moonday – the irony would have been a little over the top. “No, I’m seeing Mal.  Gonna help bring the water trucks in and then it’s my days off.”

The com in her suit had lousy sound quality, and it was audio only, but she still thought she could hear Jenia’s grin.  “Oh, yeah, I forgot.  He’s coming in this run, isn’t he?”

“Comes in every other night. One month out, one month back.”

“Girl, you should get you a man on a short-hauler.  Or a Loonie boy right here.  I tell you, I couldn’t deal with my man being gone two months at a time.”

“It’s good money.  And he’s just going out to the ‘roids, it’s not like he’s on a Saturn hauler or something.”

“Uh-uh.  Not for me.”

“Well, good, ‘cause I wasn’t planning to share.”

Jenia laughed.  “You make sure he takes you somewhere nice with all that good money, then.”

“Nearest fine restaurant’s in Tranquility.  I only got him for three spins, I’d rather eat in the commissary or my apartment and stay in, if you get me.”

More laughter.  “Well, you have a good time whatever way you want it, then.”  A faint beep. “Got shutdowns to do.  I’ll talk to you later, girlfriend.”

“Later.”  Maybe much, much later. She wasn’t saying anything yet, not until she talked to Mal, but this was not going to be a funtime, playing around kind of visit.  Her career on the Moon was probably over, and what happened next depended on what kind of man Mal really was.

***

By two earthdays later, night had fallen.  Most of the crew had moved on with the sun, to Serenity or Tranquility or one of the farther maria like Imbrium.  Lavonne had stayed behind as part of the unloading crew to help the truckers unload their cargo.  It was a legitimate job, part of her regular assignments, but she’d gotten herself assigned to it because of her year-long romance with a trucker.  

Nighttime on the Moon was when the majority of the trucks came in.  Short-haulers came in from Earth with holds full of liquid nitrogen, hydroponic fertilizer, or trade goods, and needed to be loaded up with the fuel cells the solar arrays were here to manufacture.  Medium-haulers came in from Mars or the asteroid belt with water ice or metals from the mines out there.  The water ice, in particular, was vital to the operations here; the solar arrays electrolyzed it into hydrogen for the fuel cells and oxygen for breathing mixes.  Long-haulers came in from Saturn or farther with methane ice, more valuable than water ice because it packed tighter and generated more hydrogen per molecule, but less common in the asteroid belt and a lot more volatile.  Lavonne worked with the medium-haulers, unloading the water ice into the bays where it would be melted and readied to be electrolyzed next lunar sunrise.  When the time rolled around that she expected Mal to be coming in, she took a break from the ice bays and went directly to the cargo hangar.

Malachi Lazaroff was a tall, skinny guy with the oddly elongated limbs of the spaceborn.  In fact, for spaceborn he was short, just under two meters.  He had shaggy black hair in a perpetual mess and skin that might be nicely tanned if it ever went near sunlight, but instead was pasty pale with a grayish tinge to it. He had thick implanted contacts that made his big brown eyes look bigger than they really were, and he moved in Moon gee with the economical fluidity of a man who’d never kicked a ball on Earth. “Lavonne!”  He jumped down from the edge of his truck’s hold and reached her in three steps, grabbing her in a big hug.  “I am so glad to see you, honey, you have no idea!”

They were in the hangar, under pressurization – the ice could theoretically be unloaded topside, since it was night, but iceteroids were jagged and could rip a spacesuit, so truckers and loaders both preferred to bring the trucks all the way into the hangar when they’d fit.  So Mal could afford to be a little exuberant, but Lavonne wasn’t in the mood.  She extricated herself as soon as she could. “What’s wrong, Vonne?”

“Nothing,” Lavonne said, which wasn’t true, and “It’s been a bad month, that’s all, and I’m all tense,” which was.  “Looks like you got most of your haul unloaded already?”

“Yeah, I got in half an hour early.  Some other guy took a hit and got delayed, so I got his window.”

“A hit?  He okay, you know?”

“The way I heard it, he lost half his air when a microid punched a hole in his hull, and he had to detour to Little Mars to resupply after he patched it, but yeah, he’s okay.   He’s just not going to make it to Crisis with his haul; he’ll probably have to come in at Imbrium or maybe even darkside.”

When things went right, travel in space went like clockwork.  You could predict to the minute when a medium-hauler currently leaving the asteroid belt with a cargo of iceteroids would reach Luna, and where it would come in, if you knew the weight of the cargo and the exact position of the truck. The iceteroid haulers who supplied HydroGenius’ fuel cell manufacturing operations would try to come in as close to nightfall as they could.  Iceteroids couldn’t be brought in sunside, or the heat would sublimate them in the cargo holds, and the pressure of 200 metric tons of ice turning to steam had been known to blow ships apart.  But they needed to be in place, in water form, ready to be electrolyzed, when day broke again and the solar panels started back up.  This meant that the best time to bring in a cargo was within a spin or two – a day on Earth -- after lunar night fell, when the biggest hauls still had time to be processed before daybreak.  The big rigs were assigned timeslots and locations based on their cargo size, and if everything went right there would be no deviation.

Usually, things going wrong meant someone had ended up dead.  The hauler whose slot Mal took had been lucky, Lavonne thought.  Trucks could survive a hit from a micro if the trucker was fast enough to patch the damage before he lost too much air. Miniteroids and anything larger hitting a truck would usually blow it to bits.

“So you’re nearly done, here.”

“Looks like it,” he agreed. “You want to go to dinner?”

Lavonne made a face. “Commissary food ain’t shit.  I’ve got a kitchen unit in my apartment; why don’t I cook us up some spaghetti?”

“Sounds good. I love your spaghetti.”

***

She was putting this conversation off.

The kitchen was too small for two people to work, but Mal helped by chopping tomatoes and peppers for her in the tiny dining area. Chopping vegetables under luna-g was a skill in itself. It was too easy to do the work; an Earther’s arm would be too light. A recipe for accidentally chopping off your own finger because force you were used to using on Earth was too strong on the moon, and with greater strength and speed came less accuracy. Spaceborn like Mal were much better at it.

In theory, lunarborn would be even better, but there were no lunarborn. A tangled mess of international law prevented the Moon from either being under the control of any one nation, or under its own control, so there were nothing but company towns up here. And in a company town, you worked, and you went back to Earth if you couldn’t.

Spaceborn couldn’t return to Earth – the gravity would be too much for their hearts – but for them, it wasn’t returning. People born on the stations and outposts and ships had never seen Earth, and a generation after space travel had solved Earth’s energy problems, neither had most of their parents. People who lived on the Moon didn’t live here. Their legal homes were back on Earth. There were no facilities here for children or people too sick or disabled to work; if you got hurt or sick and you couldn’t work, you got shipped back to Earth. It was your home. The Moon was just a job site.

Except that if you’d been working on the Moon for five years or more, the Moon wasn’t just a job site. It was where all your recent work experience was, too. People returning to Earth because they’d quit the job couldn’t get new ones nearly as well-paid, and on Earth, you didn’t get a free place to live as part of most people’s employment… and you were competing with truckers and haulers and technicians who weren’t exhausted by the return to earth-g. No one Lavonne knew who’d left the Moon had a decent standard of living, now.

She got the sauce with its spices, the fake hamburger, and the tomatoes and peppers into pressure cooker 1, and took the spaghetti, nicely boiled, out of pressure cooker 2. “Just waiting for the sauce,” she said.

Lavonne could start talking about this. She could tell Mal the choice she faced, see what he was willing to do to help, see if there was any solution he could think of beyond the paths she’d thought up, paths she didn’t want to take. But she didn’t want to have to interrupt herself when the sauce came up. Also, she wanted to put this off as much as she wanted to have it behind her.

Mal filled in the gaps, telling her about his last run, the methane iceteroid he almost managed to catch, gossip about his spaceborn friends and family. She’d never met any of them, but he talked about them so often, it was like they lived next door. “…and Noah’s having his bar mitzvah month after next, so I was thinking, maybe you could take some vacation days and come out to Mars Station with me, meet my family? I’ve told them all about you and they’re dying to meet you.”

Lavonne was brought up short by the sudden question. Normally when Mal rambled, she didn’t need to listen too hard, and she certainly didn’t need to answer. Last month her answer would have been “yes”, and if she had a choice it would still be “yes”, but she had yet to talk to him. “That’s, uh. That’s lovely. I mean, I’d love to, if things work out.”

The sauce was ready, thank God. She ladled generous amounts onto the two bowls of spaghetti, and walked carefully, almost shuffling but with long strides, around the side of the counter to the tiny dining area. In a hangar, she could walk normally, but in her tiny apartment, with two bowls of spaghetti in her hands, that was asking for trouble. Keep the feet mostly on the ground, that was the way to not go flying.

“What do you mean, if things work out? Is – Are we having a problem? I didn’t think we were having a problem, I thought everything was going okay…”

“It’s not a you and me problem… well, it is, but not in our relationship… well, it kind of is about our relationship, but it isn’t… oh, fuck it. I’m pregnant, Mal.”

Mal broke into a broad smile. “That’s wonderful!” And then he read her face. “Or… it’s not. You… I guess we’ve never had the kids talk, have we? You don’t want kids?”

Lavonne sat down, as heavily as luna-g would let her. “Mal. You’re spaceborn. You’ve got no folks back on Earth. If you and I went off to Mars Station to live together with a kid, there’s no downside to you. But I’m Earther. I got Earth family, and if I have a kid on Mars Station, that kid’s never gonna see his gramma, his aunties, his uncle, he’s never gonna meet his cousins… I’ve got a big family, too. I love ‘em, too. I don’t want to cut a kid off from his heritage.”

“But I can’t go to Earth,” Mal said, nodding slowly. “Well… I feel like that’s a thing we could solve, I mean, people on Mars Station have kids with people on Lagrange 2 have kids with people on Phobos Outpost, and you just shuttle around between the two families. Isn’t it like that on Earth?”

“If both families are on Earth, sure. But…” She took a deep breath. “If I quit my job to go back Earthside, there’s no guarantee I’ll be able to get it back again any time soon. And you can’t take a baby into space. I’d be stuck down there, without you, until the kid is three… and without my job, I don’t know how I’d afford to get back up into space. You know, down there, you don’t get to just shuttle around the solar system. You’re rich as hell, or you work for one of the lunar corps or a space corp, or you have a government grant, or you’re in NASA or one of the other national space agencies… and if none of that’s true, you’re gonna spend your whole life down there. Maybe you can afford one tourist vacation, in your lifetime, if you scrimp and save for it.”

“Ah, shit.” Mal sighed. “Okay. I’m seeing the dilemma.”

He didn’t ask why she was pregnant. The laws that restricted human behavior on the Moon were heavily influenced by a number of very conservative governments. Birth control couldn’t be shipped to the Moon. Lavonne had been sourcing her birth control from a black market network that came in from the spaceborn, but the supply sometimes dried up for exactly the wrong few weeks. They’d used condoms, the only form of birth control you could get on the Moon, but in luna-g they worked really, really badly.

“So. I go down for a medical procedure and I get rid of it – and you know if I take a flight down to Sweden or something, they’re gonna know something’s up – or, we have to decide which side of the kid’s family he’ll lose out on ever getting to meet. And if we leave out space, you, his dad, you won’t be able to be with him until he’s grown up enough to get his own moon job. But if we leave out Earth, he’ll be cut off from it forever.” It was also company policy that employees who could get pregnant could not get abortions, and doing so would be justified grounds for dismissal. The company wouldn’t be able to tell she was going down for that reason – but if she went home to the United States, she couldn’t get one without being rich, and if she went from there to Europe that would kill a good bit of her savings, but if she went directly down to the countries where it was legal, the company did know where her family lived, and that it wasn’t Europe. And because the company provided all the medical care up here, if they had good reason to suspect her, they could pull her medical records from Earth.

“That… is a really shitty choice to have to make,” Mal said. “I’m sorry. They should let people form a colony on the Moon. This whole ‘you can’t really live here, you can’t have kids on the moon’ thing is bullshit.”

“Tell me about it.”

He shook his head. “I know… I know my folks would be crushed if I had a kid and they couldn’t see him. But I’m guessing yours would too.”

The Jewish families in space were tight-knit, with a strong focus on families, because all over Earth the Jewish diaspora was like that, after generations of pogroms and antisemitic violence. The Black families in the United States were the same way, after hundreds of years of overpolicing and perverse incentives had destroyed the connection between Black men and the rest of their families, over so many generations. Both Mal’s parents and Lavonne’s would see the loss of a grandchild to a place they could never go as heartbreaking.

“Yeah,” Lavonne said. “I just don’t know what to do.”