#I had a brain tumor once and had to go through brain surgery for it

[heartoflesh]

I want out of this pain... I want out of this mental torture that suppresses my mind. I've wanted to die. How do you medically induce amnesia?

The only thing worth going through this pain is the gain of heaven some day.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Not Since I Found You

Requested Here!

Pairing: (divorced)Deacon Kay x fem!reader

Summary: After Annie was changed by her brain tumor, she left Deacon. Now that he has you in his life, she decides that she doesn't want him to move on and does everything she can think of to sabotage your relationship.

Warnings: Annie is completely different after removing the brain tumor, angst, lots of fluff, quick tense change

Word Count: 2.5k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Deacon Kay Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Deacon’s end-of-shift routine had changed drastically over the past year. Before, he would rush home to see Annie and hug his kids. Now, he sits on a bench in the locker room, looks at pictures of Matthew, Lila, and Samuel, and counts down the days until he can see them again. Anything he could do at work to delay going home to a cold and lonely apartment, he’d do it.

After Annie awoke from her surgery to remove the tumor in her brain, she was different. Deacon tried everything he could to remind Annie of why they fell in love and convince her that it could be the same as before. The Annie Deacon once knew was long gone, and the new Annie wasted no time filing for divorce and getting custody of the kids. So, Deacon spent the next year in a vicious cycle of loneliness, struggling to accept what has happened and wondering if he’ll ever feel alive again. But then, he left SWAT HQ on a random weekday, went to a park to walk, and met you. Then, suddenly, everything brightened again.

Less than a week later, you became part of Deacon’s life. He texted you often, made plans to hang out, and, by the end of the month, asked you on a date. Despite the heartbreak he’s been through and the misery he has allowed himself to stay in, Deacon fell for you quickly.

“Are you free tonight?” Deacon asks over the phone.

“Mm, I’ll have to check my schedule,” you joke. “I think I can squeeze you in.”

“My team is going out to dinner tonight, and I want you to come.”

“Deacon,” you begin.

“I’m sure,” he answers before you ask. “You’re important to me, and they’re my family.”

“I’ll be there.”

“I’ll pick you up,” Deacon corrects you. “See you tonight.”

Several hours later, you hold Deacon’s hand as you enter the restaurant. His team is his family, and you know that meeting them is important. Your relationship is getting serious, and tonight solidifies that.

“Hondo, Street, Chris, Tan, Luca, this is my girlfriend,” Deacon begins once you’re seated.

Immediately, you’re greeted with handshakes, hugs, questions, and smiles. Talking to them is easy. It's like they’ve been your best friends for as long as they’ve been Deacon’s. Deep down, however, a small, nagging question wonders if they like you or if this is an act for Deacon’s benefit.

After you receive your drinks, you excuse yourself to use the restroom, and Chris joins you.

“Thank you,” Chris says, pulling you into a hug in the privacy of the women’s room.

“For what?” you question.

“Being so great for Deacon. Watching what he went through with Annie was… it was awful. But then you came along, and he’s happy again. We want the best for him, and that’s you.”

“You think so?”

Chris scoffs as she rolls her eyes. “If you could see how he looks at you, you wouldn’t have a single doubt. You’re good for each other, and he loves you.”

“Thank you, Chris.”

“More importantly than Deacon, you also got a new best friend.”

“Street?” you tease.

She shoves you gently before she loops her arm through yours. “No one likes Street, that’s one thing you need to know.”

“Deacon seems to,” you argue playfully.

“Deacon has a thing for strays.” Chris realizes what she implied and adds, “Not you!”

“I got it. We’re best friends now, right? So, don’t worry about offending me.”

“Oh, I knew I’d like you.”

“Sorry,” Tan says as he pulls his shopping cart toward him.

“No worries,” the person behind the other cart says.

“Annie?” Tan questions, stepping forward to see her.

“Victor, hi,” she greets. “How are you?”

“Annie,” a man calls as he walks down the aisle. “Sorry.”

“It’s our second date and we both forgot that cooking requires ingredients,” Annie explains.

“Well, good for you,” Tan says. “Glad to see you and Deacon are both moving on. Have a nice night.”

Annie watches Tan walk past; though her date is talking to her, she can only focus on one thing. Deacon and another woman. Annie may not love him anymore but does not appreciate the visual. She doesn’t want to see Deacon with someone else, no matter what.

“Annie?” her date tries again. “Tomato basil or marinara?”

“You pick,” she mumbles. He nods and weighs the options while Annie considers what she could do to ensure that Deacon won’t move on. As far as she’s concerned, he has no reason to move on after her.

Deacon is nearly ready for your date when someone knocks on his door. He is surprised to see Annie and his kids standing outside. When Lila reaches forward to knock, he pulls the door open and squats to hug her.

“Hey!” he greets as the boys join the hug. “What are you doing here?”

“Surprising you!” Lila answers happily.

“Something came up and I have to meet someone, not sure when I’ll be done,” Annie says. She looks at his nice outfit and adds, “But if you’ve got plans, I can-“

“No, no,” Deacon replies hurriedly. “I can watch them.”

“Great. Thanks, David.”

Annie disappears down the hall, smiling to herself for her success in keeping him from meeting his date. While she celebrates her perceived victory, Deacon takes his kids inside, abandons his suit jacket on a chair, and dials your number.

“Hey, Deac,” you greet when you answer.

“Hi,” he begins. “I’m so sorry, but Annie just dropped the kids off and needs me to watch them tonight.

“I understand, Deacon. Enjoy your time with them; we can reschedule.”

“Thank you.”

Lila reaches up toward Deacon’s phone, and he smiles as he lowers it and puts it on speaker. “Someone wants to say hi,” Deacon tells you.

“Hi!” Lila calls.

“Well, hello, Lila,” you reply happily. “I hope you have fun with your dad tonight.”

“Are you coming over?” she asks.

“You can if you want,” Deacon adds before you can answer.

“What does Lila want?” you inquire.

Lila smiles up at Deacon, and he answers for her, “She wants to see you.”

“What if I come over for dinner and then let you enjoy some family time after?” you suggest.

“That sounds perfect, we’ll see you then.”

Deacon ends the call and sits on the couch with his kids. Spending time with them and you is better than the expensive reservation you had, he thinks. Deacon may never know what Annie’s plan was, but her attempt at sabotage actually made Deacon’s night better. Besides, you’d already met his kids when they stayed with him for a weekend, and they enjoy your company almost as much as he does.

“Here to see Deacon?” Street asks when he notices you waiting at SWAT HQ.

“I am,” you answer with a smile. “He’s in a meeting; Hondo told me I could wait here.”

“Don’t make me give you a parking ticket,” he teases.

Around the corner, Annie stops when she hears Deacon’s name. More, when she hears that another woman is here to see Deacon. She doesn’t know if it’s the same person Tan mentioned or the same one whose date she interrupted, but she doesn’t like it. After Street leaves, she walks into the common area and sees you sitting in a chair with your phone in your lap.

“May I?” Annie asks, pointing to the empty chair beside you.

“Yes, of course,” you answer, smiling.

“Thanks. So, are you a cop’s wife?”

“No, just a girlfriend.”

“Then you’re the brave one in the relationship,” Annie says.

“Not at all. I worry about him all the time.”

Annie hums before she muses, “Seems like that would put a lot of strain on a relationship.”

“Well, the alternative is a complete lack of care and empathy. To me, that’s not even an option.”

“Sure, but… doesn’t that constant worry put a barrier between you? Or maybe your relationship is new enough that you haven’t noticed yet. He will.”

You nod and unlock your phone. Annie may not know you recognize her, but she’s in a few pictures at Deacon’s apartment. The first time you came over, he explained everything to you: the tumor, the sudden change in her personality, and how she broke his heart by leaving and taking his kids most of the time. You knew she had been changed by the tumor, but you didn’t expect she’d try to scare you into leaving Deacon.

Hondo steps out of the office and looks between you and Annie. When you lock eyes with him, he tips his head to invite you in while he walks toward Annie. You mouth thank you and walk quickly into the office where Deacon is. You decide not to tell him what Annie said, but you suspect he knows more about her new attitude than you do.

Annie slides a diamond ring onto her left hand and watches it glint in the light. She came to the jewelry store to get Lila a necklace for her birthday and was distracted by the row of shining engagement rings. When Deacon proposed, they were young, and he got a sentimentally rich ring that was cheap. At that point, she loved it, but now she wonders what it would have been like to have received a ‘real’ ring. She doesn’t miss Deacon, but she misses his devotion to her, how he’d never as much as look at another woman.

The bell over the door rings as it opens, and Annie returns the ring to the saleswoman and asks to see any kids’ jewelry they have.

“Annie?” Deacon asks.

Annie turns toward the door and smiles when she sees him. “David. Hi.”

“What are you doing here?” he asks, glancing at the engagement ring being returned to its display.

“Shopping for Lila’s birthday. I was thinking I’d get her a necklace; she’s been talking about getting one for weeks.”

Deacon nods, aware that Lila wants a necklace because she loves the one you wear daily.

“What about you? You’ve never been a jewelry guy,” Annie points out.

You don’t know what kind of guy I am anymore, Deacon thinks. “Just replacing the chain,” Deacon says, tugging on the necklace tucked under his shirt.

Annie nods and follows the saleswoman to a different display case as Deacon approaches a desk at the back of the store.

“I have a pickup for David Kay,” he tells the man at the desk.

The man types his name, nods, and excuses himself to retrieve the order. Deacon looks at the back wall but is aware of where Annie is (a job hazard and an annoyance in this situation).

“Here you are, Mr. Kay,” the man says as he passes a bag over the desk. “It has been sized and polished, as requested.”

“Perfect,” Deacon replies. “Thank you.”

“Who’s the lucky girl?” Annie asks.

“What girl?”

“You and I both know it’s not a necklace chain.”

“You and I don’t know anything anymore, Annie.” Deacon begins to step past her, then adds, “Lila would like the one with the silver branch and flowers.”

As he leaves the jewelry store with your engagement ring at his side, Deacon focuses on you rather than Annie’s odd reaction to thinking he is proposing. She’d been unjustly angry and jealous after her surgery, even accused Deacon of cheating on her with Chris, and that shift in her mindset hasn’t gone away.

You text Deacon as he gets in his car, and his questions about Annie disappear as he smiles at your name.

Your phone rings while you are waiting for Deacon to arrive. The number isn’t one you recognize, but you answer anyway.

“Hello?” you greet.

“Hi, this is Annie Kay,” the woman on the other end says.

“Oh, um, hi,” you stutter. “How did you get my number?”

“That’s not important.”

“I think-“

“Listen, I’m just calling to warn you. I know that you think things are getting serious with David, Deacon, whatever you call him. But it won’t work out.”

“Annie,” you try to interrupt.

“It won’t work because he will never be as happy with you as he was with me.”

Deacon pulls in and parks, and you hang up on his ex-wife. The phone rings again, but you mute the ringer and walk out to greet Deacon.

“Are you okay?” he asks, cupping your face between his hands.

“Yeah,” you answer.

Deacon shakes his head, and you admit, “Annie just called me. She wanted to tell me that you’d never be as happy with me as you were with her.”

“I’m so sorry,” Deacon sighs. “I’ll talk to her.”

“She really changed, didn’t she?”

Deacon nods as his arms wrap around you. “She was wrong.”

“Oh, I know,” you agree playfully. “Deacon, I love you.”

“I love you,” he replies. “So much.”

Matthew, Lila, and Samuel are home with Annie the next time you and Deacon go on a date. He takes you to an overview where you can see where you met and brings a special picnic dinner. Around 8 p.m., Lila asks her mom to stay up later. Since there’s no school tomorrow, Annie agrees, and the kids watch the clock rather than the television above it.

Above Los Angeles, your watch changes to 8:15, and Deacon takes your hand as he encourages you to stand. He presses a button on his phone, and when the music begins to play, he pulls you close and dances with you. At 8:19 exactly, the song ends, and Deacon drops to one knee.

“Second chances aren’t guaranteed,” Deacon begins. “But you are by far the best second chance I’ve ever gotten. I love you more than I thought I could love anything ever again. You’re good with my kids, you don’t care that I’m used and have been broken over and over, and you never fail to make me feel like I’m the only man you’ll ever want.” Deacon pulls a velvet box from the picnic basket and raises the ring toward you to ask, “Will you keep loving me forever, and marry me?”

“Yes!” you yell, taking Deacon’s hand. “Deacon, yes.”

You drop to your knees to hug Deacon, but he redirects you to kiss you, and he pulls you just as close as when you were dancing. You and your love melt into Deacon for eternity.

In Annie’s living room, when the clock changes to 8:20, Matthew, Samuel, and Lila jump and cheer. Annie doesn’t know that her attempts to sabotage Deacon’s relationship will never work. Deacon’s children know they’re gaining a stepmom which is cause for celebration. However, everyone is in for a surprise when they learn Deacon plans to petition for custody.

“Deacon,” you say after you pull back. “You’re not broken.”

“Not anymore,” he agrees. “Not since I found you.”

[soongtypehuman]

Boo-hoo update

I’m sorry to say I have an update I was hoping to not ever have to make. Some of you already know that I have some serious health issues, but I've been pretty quiet about the extent of what I'm dealing with.

The gist of it is that I have a rare bone disease called fibrous dysplasia that turned certain bones in my skull into tumors and then those tumors grew inward and started crushing my brain, so I had a craniotomy last year to remove as much as was safe and got a cool new titanium implant in my head to replace the removed bone/tumor. The unfortunate result was encephalomalacia, which is the end stage of liquifying necrosis, and now part of my brain is liquid instead of solid (it’s dead, in a nutshell). Most people don’t survive encephalomalacia, much less remain able to function, and most who survive the initial stage don’t survive the three year mark. Even when you do survive it, it often continues spreading. The last MRI showed it had already taken over about 1/3 of my brain. But I’m a stubborn asshole and am still hanging on.

Unfortunately, things aren’t getting better.

I have to have constant MRIs, EEGs, physical and cognitive therapies, and have been on more meds than I’d like to be in order to control seizures and various cognitive issues. I didn’t mention this before, but I had to go through a series of speech therapies just to learn to talk properly again. And the most unfortunate part of this is that my ability to write has been affected. Since the surgery over a year ago, I’ve only made 10 new posts in the Positronic Rivalry series, totaling around 87k words. For reference, I posted over 200k words in 2022. I’ve posted even less this year, and it’s not improving.

With that said, I have to take a step back. I’m not quitting and I’m not walking away from the fandom. I’d like to think I’ll still be able to post here and there. I just don’t know when and under what circumstances that will happen. I most certainly can’t handle the longer multi-chapter fics I once could. Maybe one day, but not this day. Since I started posting on AO3 back at the end of 2021, I’ve posted every Sunday more often than not. I’m sorry to say I can’t make that happen right now, and can’t say when I’ll post again or what it will be. I won't be able to continue with season 4.

But I’m most definitely not leaving the fandom and the people and the characters I love so much. I’ll still be here interacting and posting when I’m able. This fandom and the people in it are incredible and mean a lot to me. Data and Lore and Star Trek in general are integral to my life and general enjoyment.

But!! I’ve nearly completed compiling seasons 1-3 of Positronic Rivalry as well as 2022/23 Kinktobers into files that will be ready to print in physical book format (completely free, obviously), which I’ll make available for everyone to download in various print sizes, complete with covers, which you can then have printed at various POD sites if you’re so inclined. Digital versions will also be available (you can already download various formats from AO3, but they’re not compiled into seasons, don’t have covers, etc.).

I’m also continuing with the Trek-themed crossword puzzles because those are fun and my therapist thinks making them is good for my cognitive rehab.

This update is a massive bummer for me, but I felt it was better to just admit my limitations instead of constantly trying to convince myself that I could continue the way I had been pre-surgery and beating myself up when I couldn’t.

Lastly, I’ve finally taken the suggestion I’ve gotten repeatedly and set up a KoFi. If you’d like to buy me a coffee or toss a coin to your android porn witcher, you can do so right here and I’d be giggling and kicking my feet in gratitude.

Anyhow, I want to thank all of you for being amazing and coming along on this ride with me for as long as you have, and for as long as it might continue in whatever form it takes.

[offender42085]

Post 1302

Frankie E Bybee, Florida inmate S42207, born 1970, incarceration intake November 2017 at age 47, scheduled for release July 2025

Exploitation of Elderly or Disabled Person, Fraud Use of Personal Identification

In January 2021, a former Sarasota County deputy whose sentence was partly reversed was resentenced.

Frank Bybee appeared frail and visibly shaking as he entered court in a wheelchair. He made an emotional plea to Judge Donald H. Mason: “I want to apologize to Marcia Sohl. She should never have had to go through any of this, the court’s distress. I want to apologize to my profession. The Sheriff’s Office is top notch, one of the best in the state of Florida. I used to work with (Assistant State Attorney and prosecutor) Karen Fraivillig. I’m sure it was hard for her and personal to come after me. I apologize for what it’s done to my family and my marriage, my three boys.”

Assistant Public Defender Marc Gilman said Bybee has had two brain surgeries to remove a tumor the size of a grapefruit and a stroke since he was imprisoned in 2017 for crimes against the elderly.

The victim, Marcia Sohl, 82, a former New York City teacher, died in July 2019.

Despite arguments that his health was declining because of poor medical care in prison, Judge Mason resentenced Bybee to 10 years in prison for exploitation of the elderly and 10 years probation for three counts of computer crimes.

Bybee will receive credit for time served on seven counts of fraudulent use of identification information, and five years probation on a count of fraudulent use of identification information. 

"I'm happy the judge took his medical condition into consideration," Assistant Public Defender Marc Gilman said. "I'm happy he got a little time off his sentence. That shows sometimes things can work out in good ways. I understand he still needs to be punished. That's part of what the system is designed to do."

In November 2017, Bybee was sentenced to 15 years in prison for 13 felonies that included kidnapping, exploitation of elderly, three counts of computer fraud and eight counts of fraudulent use of information.

But in an opinion filed by Second District Appeals Judge Susan Rothstein-Youakim in May 2020, Bybee’s kidnapping conviction was reversed. Rothstein-Youakim said Bybee received ineffective assistance from his defense attorneys. Their failure to move for a judgment of acquittal when there were serious concerns about evidence is reviewable on appeal, the judge said.

The charges against Bybee arose out of his relationship with the then 79-year-old woman and covered a period of about three months. He was sent to her house Oct. 16, 2016, because she was threatening suicide. She was transported to the hospital and involuntarily committed under the Baker Act. Bybee stayed to pray with her, and they exchanged cell phone numbers.

The woman and Bybee began communicating regularly. Over the next few months, the deputy came to her house to do chores such as painting and minor repairs.

As the woman’s health began to decline, she was admitted to the hospital more than once and spent time in rehabilitation facilities, according to court documents.

By December 2016, their relationship had soured.

The woman called the Sheriff’s Office twice to complain about Bybee’s involvement in her life. The agency told him not to have further contact with her.

After interviewing the woman, the Sheriff’s Office opened an internal affairs investigation of Bybee to determine if he was engaging in an inappropriate relationship with someone with whom he had been involved in an official capacity, court documents stated.

Investigators found that Bybee repeatedly accessed the woman’s AOL account and emails, accessed her financial information, accessed her PayPal account and withdrew money using her debit card.

On Dec. 29, after Bybee was told to cease his contact with the woman, she was once again Baker Acted. While evidence exists that Bybee sent a message from the woman’s email account that set in motion law enforcement’s response to her home, deputies and medical staff at the hospital made the decision to Baker Act the woman based on their observations.

“Both the responding deputies and the hospital staff were statutorily authorized to make the determinations that they made,” Rothstein-Youakim wrote.

Assistant Public Defender Karen M. Kinney, who handled Bybee’s appeal, called state prosecutors’ assertions that there was kidnapping a refutable “theory.” However, Bybee’s counsel, John Lakin and Ronald Kurpiers, did not raise an issue with the charge at the right time, she said.

Fraivillig, who represented the state during Bybee’s trial in October 2017, wanted his sentence to remain the same at 15 years for four second-degree felonies. She said the original judgment was a “merciful sentence.”

Sarasota County Sheriff Tom Knight said at the original trial that Deputy Frankie Bybee had befriended the victim, a 79-year-old Sarasota woman, while responding to a service call.

Knight said when the woman entrusted Bybee -- an 18-year agency veteran and married father of three -- with her dog, whom the deputy sold the dog through Craigslist. The dog was reunited with the woman.

Knight said at the time, Bybee was placed on administrative leave after the deputy’s fingerprint was found on checks totaling $65,000 that the victim said had been fraudulently signed.

Bybee will need constant medical care and CT scans for the rest of his life.

4l

[scrapyardboyfriends]

Just when we thought the show couldn't get any worse they have Cain randomly cheat on Moira while she is undergoing brain surgery! I feel so sorry for the Coira fans, first the nonsensical Nate affair now Cain sleeping with his sister in law out of nowhere! Robron really did escape lightly in comparison. Imagine us all gearing up for Aaron devotedly sitting at Robert's bedside waiting while he has brain surgery but instead getting him going off and fucking John in the garage!

I just…have no words. They’ve been so bad lately with bogging down serious stories with unnecessary drama. I mean look at what was supposed to be a childhood leukemia story for Evan that turned into an illegal boxing story that was a vehicle to bring back Ross and now there’s just random gangsters running around. Like what even is happening with the baby at this point? Does anyone know or care??

But this…I just can’t on so many levels. Not only is it absolutely unnecessary to add this kind of drama to a brain tumor story, why is Iain so damn obsessed with destroying Coira with cheating stories. And no it doesn’t count as different just because it’s Cain this time. I just don’t feel like Coira can take another cheating story. And once again, so little reason and motivation for it. This feels like Chrissie thing but worse.

Coira is one of their most popular couples and yes they need drama but they had that with the brain tumor. It doesn’t have to be cheating drama. Especially when they’ve had so much of that in the past. And it was done so poorly too.

I’m sure they’ll come through this too but…at what cost. And when will people stop caring?

(This is one reason why I’d be happy for Ryan to keep turning them down. I don’t trust these people)

[awkward-tension-art]

Puppet on a String Chp.9 (Fives x Reader)

Chapter 8. Chapter 10.

Surgery

CW: Fives x Reader, Reader is a medical practitioner, angst, swearing, Death mention, Running from authorities, Mentions of dead characters, Inhibitor chip arc, Nala Se being cruel, Shaak Ti trying her best, lying, surgery, Fives stuns reader but its consensual, AZ-3 being a cutie, Kissing

Tag List (Thank you guys!): @notgonnaedit @spicydonut25 @bimboshaggy @amazonian-bae @tentakelspektakel

Fives shifted, groaning on the surgical bed. 

You rushed to his side, looking over your lover as he woke. He took a deep breath and moved to sit up. However, you put your hands on his chest and kept him down, “Easy, take it slow.” you murmured softly, “Take a second to orient yourself.” 

The ARC trooper nodded, blinking open his eyes. However, once it registered that you were next to him, he sat up quickly, “Mesh’la!” Without another second to waste, his arms were around you tightly. 

“Hi, love.” you responded, returning his hug. You wanted to stay like this forever. Wrapped up in each other's warm embrace.

Sadly, however, Fives let you go. He raised a hand to feel the fresh scar from the surgery, “Was…was it there?”

You nodded, and AZ-3 hovered over to raise the tumor encased in bio-glass. Once you had it in your hands, you explained everything you knew to Fives, “Yours is identical in structure and location in the brain.” You said, “But…something went wrong with Tup’s. A genetic mutation, I think.”

Your lover nodded, following along. He shifted, getting to his feet with your help, “So that means his breakdown is…isolated?”

“I’m…not sure.” you admitted. You were about to say something else, but AZ-3 interrupted you. 

“Now that we have removed your chip, we do not know what will happen to you.” the surgical droid stated. 

“So then I could snap too?” Fives jerked his head up to look at the droid.

“It is a possibility.” 

You frowned, “We don’t know that.”

The ARC trooper beside you didn’t look convinced, “But when we removed the chip from Tup, he…”

Tup’s death still hurt

“I am afraid you may die as well.” Was AZ-3’s blunt response. 

That's when you chimed in again, “It’s unlucky,” your hand went to Fives, “But we can never know. So far you're stable and coherent. All good signs.” 

Your lover rubbed his face in his hands, getting himself together, “I need to know if more clones than just Tup and I have these and when we were implanted with them.” His tone was resolute and determined. 

AZ-3 chimed in, “My analysis suggests implantation took place at the earliest stage of development, most likely when you and Tup were only embryos.” the little droid hovered up and down as he explained.

“Then we have to start there.” Fives nodded, but before he could leave the surgical room, you squeezed his hand. 

“There’s one more thing. Shaak Ti knows that we’re investigating.” you informed him, “She wanted you to know not to panic if you see her, or if she finds us. She’s on our side.” 

He nodded, giving a relieved smile, “Good. Still, we should be careful. We don’t know who is on Nala Se’s side here.” 

With a peck on his lips and a nod, you exited the room first. Fives followed you, helmet on and rifle in hand. Behind the both of you, was AZ-3. The ever loyal droid apparently wanted to see this to the end. 

You knew where the embryos were located. They were growing in the Development Wing of Tipoca City. 

Getting there was easy. You passed through some near empty hallways, and AZ-3 was able to get you access to locked doors. 

The last door was a lecture hall. Cadets filled every seat and the silence indicated they were in the middle of an exam. 

“Oh, great…” Fives sighed. 

“Just follow my lead.” You murmured, walking forward. You got the attention of the proctors overseeing the education of the cadets, “Ah, I don’t believe we’ve met.” you introduced yourself to them quietly, “Ethics Committee from the Grand Republic Medical Facility.” 

Your hand behind your back motioned for Fives and AZ-3 to get to the other side of the lecture hall.

“Ah yes, Doctor. We haven’t had the pleasure.” The Kaminoan on the left nodded to you, “The Ethics Committee usually doesn’t get involved with the education of the clones.” 

“Yes, well, a…pediatrician, Doctor Chalesia, back on Coruscant, was curious about the teaching plan.” You lied, feeling bad using one of your colleagues names for your own means, “I wanted to ask if you could send any notes or protocols to the committee.”

Behind the proctors, AZ-3 and Fives managed to get the door opened. Your lover looked back to you, and you nodded for him to keep going. 

“I would have to speak to Nala Se first, Doctor.” the Kaminoan responded, “If you want the teaching plan, you will have to ask her.” 

“Great! Understood. Thank you.” You gave a small, appreciative yet false smile, “Continue on with what you're doing.” Your steps were steady and collected through the lecture hall, doing your best to look natural and calm.

Once you were past the doors to the Embryo Development Hall, you breathed out in relief. Luckily, no one else except for Fives was inside. The room was spacious, with a gray metal ceiling and white tiles. Lined up neatly were massive machines, all holding tubes containing small, growing embryos inside.

The ARC trooper was already at one of the consoles connected to the unit containing the embryos. It hummed to life and twirled before lowering one of the tubes down to eye-level. The life inside was small, and by your estimation, was most likely a stage 1. 

AZ-3 was already processing the data when you got to his side, “I will now try a stage three embryo.” He stated, typing on the machine’s screen. It hummed again, before shifting and whirling around. After a second, and more hydraulics hissing, a large tube containing a fetus lowered to the console. 

There was a beep, and the screen lit up with a green light. 

“There it is.” your eyes widened. 

“Ah…try another.” The ARC trooper beside you commanded the droid. 

The process repeated, and just like the first, the second fetus lit up green. 

“Based on this data, I can calculate how many in this tree are altered.” AZ-3 was typing on the console again. You weren’t sure exactly what he did, but after his command, every single tube containing a stage 3 embryo lit up in the same blaring green light. 

That could only mean one thing…

“I can't believe it…” Fives breathed out.

Your eyes were wide, “They all have one.”

The door behind the two of you hissed open and the ARC trooper whirled around. His rifle was aimed and readied at the intruder, “Don’t move.”

Nala Se raised her long arms up to show she was unarmed, “Why are you doing this?” she asked, continuing to step towards you and Fives. 

“We know what you've done,” You answered, seething. 

The Kaminoan’s voice was flat as always, “What is it that you think I have done?” She got closer and once she stepped into range, your lover grabbed her.

“How do you explain this?” He growled, swinging Nala Se to stand in front of the console. His rifle was pointed up, right at her head.

“That is a structural inhibitor chip,” She responded, keeping her arms up, “which is supposed to prevent you from being aggressive, like your source, Jango Fett.”

“If it’s only supposed to suppress aggression, why hide it!?” You snapped, “Everyone who knew of its existence has been killed. Except for you, apparently.” 

“I can’t speak for why your colleagues have died,” Nala Se had her large eyes on you, “Jedi Master Syfo-Dias instructed us to implant them during your growth cycle.”

“The Jedi…?” Fives’ rifle was shaking slightly, “The Jedi had this done to us?” He sounded speechless. Even somewhat sad at such a revelation. 

The Jedi he served so loyally had tumors implanted in every clone?

But…Shaak Ti didn’t seem aware of the issue. Did she know?

“It is not uncommon to have inhibitors placed in a clone.” Nala Se said, looking back at Fives. 

You grabbed Tup’s sample and raised it to the Kaminoan scientist, “Well, this one had a mutation and failed.” you snapped, “Every single one of these tumors can do the same.”

“Up until this point, there has never been a problem.” The scientist continued to sound cold and detached. 

Fives huffed and hit Nala Se in the head with the barrel of his blaster, “Well, you have got a big problem now.”

Just as he spoke, the large doors opened again, Shaak Ti, along with several guards, sprinted inside, “Don't move!” She commanded, stopping just short of a few meters from you. Her lightsaber was pulled, and it burst to life, “Drop your weapon.”

“General Shaak Ti!” you were the one to explain first, “We know what's going on. We have evidence.”

At your words she calmed, lowering her lightsaber. She turned it off, killing the ray of energy. 

Met with her silence, you continued, “The Jedi instructed that inhibitor chips be implanted in the clones at birth, but Tup's malfunctioned,” Your words were hurried and panicked, hoping she’d believe you again. You were certain Fives having a gun pointed at the head scientist of Kamino wasn’t helping, but maybe she'll continue to be patient with you and listen, “That's what made him lose control.”

“Where is the evidence?” the General asked, eyes narrowed. 

“It’s right here.” you handed Tup’s sample back to AZ-3 and the droid hovered over to the Jedi. 

The little robot held up the sample so the togruta could see clearly, “As you can see, the chip taken from clone trooper Tup is black and necrotic, indicating a malfunction of some sort.”

Her lavender eyes roamed over the sample, “What caused the malfunction?” She then turned to you, looking for your expertise. 

“Most likely a genetic mutation.” You answered, “One we can’t possibly predict. It may happen again to another clone,” Your gaze was directly on the General, silently begging her to believe you, “These chips have to be removed, otherwise the entire Republic Army could be compromised.” 

“There is no proof of that. This is an isolated incident.” Nala Se snapped and for once, you thought you could hear panic, “Besides, when you removed trooper Tup's chip, he died.” 

Fives pushed the Kaminoan with his baster, “Well, that's not going to happen to the rest of us.” He snapped, “Because I removed mine.” 

“Here is clone trooper Fives' chip,” AZ-3 held up the second sample, bright pink and healthy, exactly the opposite of Tup’s, “As you can see, there is no sign of malfunction in either him or the chip.”

“And Fives doesn’t have any evidence of neurological symptoms.” You backed-up the surgical robot, “He’s entirely coherent. Still himself. Most likely removing the chip has no drawbacks.” 

Nala Se broke, and once again, you swear you recognized fear coming from her, “By removing your chip, you are a threat,” she turned from the ARC trooper to Shaak Ti, “Master Jedi, we must terminate this trooper immediately.”

Your lover's eyes widened, “I am not a piece of hardware!” he cried, and you could tell the stress had finally gotten to him, “I'm a living being!” He hit the Kaminoan with the blaster again. 

“You were created in our laboratories.” She retorted, glaring down at Fives like he was a pest, “You are Kaminoan property!”

“People aren’t property!” You seethed.

“The Doctor is correct.” The Jedi stepped forward, her words calming the situation instantly, “and he is a trooper of the Republic Army, he is not Kaminoan property.” She spat that last word like it was a vile swear. As if the very idea of calling a living being property sickened her. 

The head scientist addressed the General again, “That does not change the fact that he is a danger and must be terminated.”

Shaak Ti narrowed her eyes. She was unhappy at the very least. Infact, the togruta woman was on guard and tense, “I believe that's for me to decide.” She raised one hand and motioned for your lover to lower his gun, “Fives, you are coming with me to Coruscant. I think it's time you told your story to the Chancellor.”

You let out a relieved breath and smiled, looking at the ARC trooper. He shared your joy, brown eyes bright with both relief and happiness.

Of course, Nala Se argued, “Master Jedi, I beg you to reconsider!”

“The Chancellor wanted all the data on Tup to be sent to Coruscant.” the General stepped towards the both of you, she had a gentle hand on your shoulder, “We're sending the data, the tumor, and these two along with it.”

“Then I am going with you.” The Kaminoan stepped forward.

“No, Doctor Nala Se, that is unneeded.” Shaak Ti immediately shot her down. Before there was an argument, she spoke again, “We have one talented Doctor already.” Her hand squeezed your shoulder and she gave you a small grin, “You will remain here.”

“I can not allow that to happen.” 

“Why?” the togruta turned, facing her, “Is there something about these chips you know that we do not?” 

After a stretch of silence, Nala Se lowered her head, “No, Master Jedi. I am simply concerned about the operations here on Kamino. How this situation will affect us.” 

She’s lying. 

You knew she was lying, but you didn’t know how. So, you remained silent. 

When Shaak Ti turned, Fives spoke up finally, “Thank you for believing in us, General.”

She smirked and looked back, “I will tell you the same thing I told your mesh’la,” The Mando’a word sounded so natural from her lips, “It is not a matter of belief, It is simply the right thing to do.” At her words she faced forward, and began to walk away. 

You grabbed Fives hand, and leaned into him, smiling bright.

He laughed softly before raising a gloved hand to your cheek pulling you into a deep kiss.

[afinepricklypear]

November 2024 - Update

Hello.

It’s been a while since I’ve put anything here. When last I was here, I was in a downward spiral, that much is clear. I tried to be reassuring and then I ghosted everyone. Which I know never feels good, whether it’s an IRL person or an online persona you only know through their words on a screen. I’m sorry. I’m alive.

I could say that the aftermath from Covid and the lockdowns hit me just as hard as everyone else and leave it at that, but that wouldn’t be entirely true. Things started down a dark path before that. Politics in my country were getting…weird. Now they’re just outright scary. I needed to make personal life decisions too, regarding career and finances. I hadn’t made any headway in original creative projects. I lacked discipline or motivation or confidence to pursue what had been my dream since the fifth grade: to be a creative writer.

Then right before Covid happened, my friend died. I got a text message from him on Christmas morning, 2019, that he was waiting for surgery. They’d found a tumor in his brain. He was on the other side of the country. I couldn’t go to him. And I couldn’t say good-bye. Especially not through text message. So I didn’t, instead I made sure that he was surrounded by family and friends, and I drank the entire night and overexaggerated how ‘okay’ I was doing, while telling no one close to me what was happening.

A couple weeks later he was gone. He was an amazing person. Beautiful, sweet, and kind. He found good in everyone, he treated everyone like a friend, and everyone that met him loved him because all he gave of himself was love. My Odasaku, if you will. And as if the world knew that it should be mourning his loss, it shut down.

This is about the time I started writing the Release series. I’m always surprised and happy to hear when people say it helped them through things, whether it got them through the pandemic or other struggles in their lives. I guess in retrospect, it was my own therapy. More an escape. A way to run away from everything awful and disappointing about my ‘real’ world. I threw myself into it more than any other fanfiction or fandom I’d been a part of. BSD was the first fandom I wrote for on AO3, before that I used FF.net. AO3 is structured in a way that allowed me to build relationships with readers. I started this Tumblr, trying to form some semblance of a community. I wanted to feel like this was different.

It worked, until it didn’t.

It’s not the first fanfic I’ve left unfinished. If I look at my body of work, over the years and years and years (over 20) I’ve been doing this, the stories came to me when I needed them. All at once, the words and emotions would surge up. I’d find a kindred spirit in the character or characters I wrote about. For months or a year or two, they might sit at the surface of my consciousness, pouring out of me, like an endless fountain. Only to dry up just as suddenly and without much warning. It wasn’t because I didn’t need them anymore. It was because the problems I was using them to run away from would finally catch up.

I’d get restless. I’d convince myself that my life isn’t going where I need it, I’m falling behind, so I’d scramble to catch up, try to rededicate myself towards a finish line, not even knowing where it was, which direction, or what that finish line would even be. I’d try to refocus on original works, because I want to be a writer. The thing they don’t tell you about fanfiction, however, is that it’s junk food for the creative soul. It’s easy and convenient to write for, because the heavy lifting of character creation and world building is already done. The more fanfiction I wrote, the more those vital skills for original story generation atrophied in me. On top of that, there’s a ready-built audience in fandoms, it’s so much easier to get readers and feedback, because people are showing up for the characters they love, not necessarily the writings of a fic’s author. These are characters I didn’t create and these are not my worlds. So, I’d start to think ‘what’s the point’ and would inevitably sink into a deep depression. I’d give up, because the mountain is hard to climb when starting at the bottom. Only for a new fanfiction idea to find me at my lowest, and the cycle would begin anew.

My friend was younger than me by a few years. He had a lot of dreams and passions of his own. He’d survived a stroke prior (and likely precursory) to the tumor and used it as a wake-up call to go back for his graduate degree and travel to new places. Still, those dreams were cut short. I don’t know what regrets he had when he passed but his loss brought forth my own mortality, and I know that my regrets are many. This time, as the story left me, I was determined not to make the same mistakes. I felt certain that I could break the cycle. However, looking back, I don’t know that any of the choices I made were the right ones because I opted to just give up. I made career choices that prioritized finances over personal satisfaction. I shut off all social media. I got medicated.

For the past two years I’ve been on antidepressants and a mood stabilizer (because just the antidepressant was bad, bad, bad). I have a long history of self-harm. I thought I’d gotten past it, but it came back hard, and I realized I never really stopped hurting myself. I finally let someone close to me know (my sister) which has been a mixed bag.

I’ve checked AO3 comments regularly over that time. If you left me feedback there, I saw it. I appreciated it. It made me feel loved and I truly, deeply thank you for it. My lack of response wasn’t because I was tired of the feedback, or that it wasn’t seen, it was because I felt guilty writing the same thing over and over again and having no meaningful updates on my life and my stories to offer. I also checked Tumblr irregularly. I always forget how to use it, so I didn’t really notice the number of questions that had filled my inbox. I found them all recently, thank you for those. I’m sorry I worried so many people. Everyone here is wonderful.

A couple months ago, I got this very sweet comment on Wake Up. Overall, harmless enough sentiments, but it stuck with me for days to weeks to now.

Reading the words “…I would love to read your new works…” hit me hardest. Because I had no new works. I hadn’t written anything since my last update on AO3. For the first time since I was ten years old, I had gone over five months without writing anything creative. I journaled, essentially just bitching about my day, and that’s it. I stopped making art, also. That’s when I stumbled into a realization. It seemed the medication worked in that it worked to numb me. I was more in a fog than anything, a zombie going about the day-to-day. Even at work, my boss expressed concerns that I was different. Quieter and less engaged, and while there are other variables here, like I hated my job and was frustrated with the people I worked with, I could trace most of it back to this one thing.

This comment left on Wake Up made me realize, therein is the trade-off for ‘peace of mind’. I feel less like hurting myself because I feel less, period. In trying to find stable ground, I cut myself off from the source of my stories. Maybe at the time, it made sense, because I was certain I’d never be a writer. That I’d always forsake my original work for what came easier, and that, ultimately, I’d never have anything worthwhile to offer the larger world that couldn’t already be found in existing IP. I wasn’t prepared for that reality to hurt this much.

There’ve been benefits to the two years away, too. It’s given me space to breathe and reflect on what matters. The irony, or cosmic poetry, of this comment appearing on a story titled Wake Up doesn’t escape me. I know this one thing now, it’s certain and stronger in me than ever, I don’t want to give up on being a writer. I have so many original ideas in me, stories I’ve wanted to write for so many decades, and characters I want to give a chance to be loved as much as those characters I’ve written fanfiction for. I have this small, odd little dream that maybe one day the worlds and characters I create will inspire fanfictions of their own.

I stopped the medication a few months ago and been readjusting to emotions, thoughts, the colors of the world that had been gray for two years. I’ve started writing an original story, using a middle ground approach to springboard off by basing the story around characters I created for a fanfiction I wrote roughly a decade ago (First Patrol, if anyone is curious, originally posted to FF.net and one of only two stories on my AO3 account that is not BSD). The characters I’m using are entirely my own except two that have morphed out of the fanfic’s original source material. It’s arguable that the character I wrote for from the fandom source was so underdeveloped in the show (my impetus for writing First Patrol in the first place), that what I created for him in that story was entirely my own to the point that version of him became mine. The world that I’m placing them is my own and is far removed from the world of that fandom. It’s an idea I’ve had sitting in my drive for almost eight years now.

I haven’t thought much about if and where I’d share this story. At the moment, I’m just focused on finishing something original and having fun with it. There’s a loose plot to it, at the moment, that I’m still trying to carve out as I go. I’ve considered posting its chapters in progress here. Maybe you’ll want to read them. Maybe your interest in my writing only goes as far as BSD or some other fandom I’ve been a part of that you found me through. Both are valid feelings. I’m not going to tell you what to think or feel about the shift in my writing direction. I’m not going to ask you to stick around. This is my journey, and you are not obligated to follow me on it. My only ask is that if I do post it here, that you not leave comments to it or about it asking for the fanfiction instead. Writing original work is hard enough without constantly being tempted by an easier and less fulfilling road and being told I was better off there.

There are other parts to my decision here, like the advent of AI Writing Tools and what I see in this technology as an impending set-back to human growth and imagination, and a hack-job to language, culture, and the arts, that I believe can only be opposed through a radical rebellion of creating with only my own humanness and human experiences away from and in spite of AI. My greatest concern is where and how I can share my work without it being stolen by the monster I’m trying to fight against.

As for the fanfictions that I’ve left unfinished. I don’t know if I’ll get back to them. I never like to call something abandoned, because that’s not how it works. First, I don’t abandon the story, in a way, I feel like it abandons me. But that’s not right either, because the story never does leave me. It hovers in the periphery of my mind, every now and then it flits back above the surface. Sometimes I can catch and hold it there long enough to add a few keystrokes to a chapter, then it dives away again.

In Wake Up, as with every fanfic I write, I know where Chuuya was supposed to end up, and Dazai, and the rest. I know the emotional beats that they were meant to experience along the way. I wrote parts of the end of Wake Up. I had the second to last chapter written. The beginning of the last chapter written, and I’ve mentally played through the scenes that were meant to happen countless times. There’s a complete 18th chapter that I’ve never posted. I’ve known of fanfic writers that showed up ten years later to pump out the last half of a story and wrap it up beautifully. I’ve even popped up after eight years to add new chapters to a fic, only to disappear again. I hate to say “it’s done and expect no more updates” because I don’t know what will happen in the future. I just know this is where I am now.

However, I don’t want to leave anyone with false hope either. There is one instance in my mind that I have managed to go back years later and finish an unfinished fic. One among dozens. It’s not impossible, but the chances aren’t high. Do with that what you will.

This is my update, as of November 2024.

[hopelessrromantix]

where i've been

TLDR: Life sucks and so does the government. Half my family got hit with some pricey medical bills plus our normal rent, so donating or sharing this would be beyond appreciated.

I know you’re all thinking “Roman! You haven’t written anything in a month, what’s going on?” First, valid question. Second, dear GOD where do I start.

Let’s keep things simple. This past month has been the literal definition of hell for me. Everything started off fairly normal, until my two remaining grandparents started having frequent hospital trips. My father spent most of his time caring for them, living mostly at their house. Given that he works most in our house, he wasn’t having an easy time. He ended up developing what his doctor said was “stress tremors”, to the point that he went on disability.

Well, even after my grandparents were a bit more stable (though still on close watch)... they continued anyway. Eventually it got so bad my mother drove him to the hospital one night and what do you know, brain tumor.

Queue several days of our family wondering what the everloving fuck we’d do without my Dad. It was several days of my dear mother (note the sarcasm) trying to control everything, my brother trying to continue school, and me taking care of the house and our pets.

We got the scans back not long after and, cue sigh of relief, the tumor was benign. It still seemed to be draining the life out of my father, though. The nurses and doctors were absolutely floored because his tumor was absolutely huge but he had no headaches. Imagine a baseball in your head. Yeah, exactly. He did however stare at the wall for hours and had a hard time getting out more than a few words. It’s probably one of my most heartbreaking memories to watch the strongest person I’ve ever known reduced to a husk on a hospital bed.

Brain surgery came soon after. He made it through and is currently in recovery. He’s speaking actual sentences, though he’s still got tremors and needs a lot of help. Still, I’m just happy to have my father.

That same week, we noticed my cat acting off. We have two of them and my cat, Gallifrey, is a talkative sweetheart who’s attached to me at the hip. But he was meowing differently and acting weird and all around not normal. One vet visit later and we find out he has kidney disease and pancreatitis. He’s being treated for it (new food, possible meds, regular fluid injections, etc.), but he’s still not himself yet. Talk about my life falling apart. This on its own my family couldn’t even begin to afford. The government seems to hate disabled people and paying for numerous doctor’s visits wasn’t remotely in our paper thin budget, much less the meds and treatment.

It was a lot all at once, and not even close to what we expected. Gallifrey is only 7 and my father didn’t show the typical signs of a brain tumor. So, I guess the universe thought “Y’know, this is a perfect time to kick Roman in the fucking balls”.

Routine testosterone blood test, just monitoring… until I got a call from the doctor. Turns out I have some untreated issues that none of my previous doctors caught. In fact, the only reason she caught it was because it was so severe. According to her she was shocked I’m still up and kicking and not in the hospital for a blood transfusion. Apparently my red blood cell count and oxygen level is insanely low, and she asked me to take a Covid test (negative), so it turns out it’s a completely different issue. I’m still in the process of diagnosing it, so that was a fun little addition. With my chronic pain and my mother in denial, I sleep most of the day and am in constant pain the entire time.

I’ll be real, I’m not a fan of asking for money. It’s not something I like, but it’s something I have to do. The amount of treatment we need, my dad, Gallifrey, and me, is more than we can hope to afford on our salaries (thank you, American healthcare!). The medical process in this country is a joke.

I’m asking y’all to help me out. Sharing, donating, whatever. Everyone around me has been kind and supportive, and I'm beyond thankful for that. If you can’t donate, please send it, share it, do whatever, I'll take absolutely anything. If I’m honest? The number I’m asking still won’t cover it, but anything is helpful.

Thank you for reading this far, thank you for sharing, for donating, for being kind, for absolutely everything.

I also understand that the internet is a horrible, despicable place, so I can give any breakdowns of what the money would be used for and give any medical info (not releasing family names or locations) to provide proof. The page includes a lovely little x-ray of my father’s head so you get to see the absolute insanity. If this isn’t enough please let me know and I can link anything else needed to confirm that yes, I am actually having the worst time of my life.

All in all? Thank you.

Donate here if you can <3

[christinescupofcoffee]

Quarter After Twelve

Chapter Three: This is My Good Eye

Christine leaned back in the spindly plastic chair with her hands folded over her lap. She had been there the day before when he went in for surgery, but she hadn’t heard a word since she had returned home for the night. She hoped that the surgery was over soon and that John had survived it all as he was in fairly bad shape: if the news and prognosis were all good, she would buy him as well as herself a bouquet of flowers.

She and John had known each other since the third grade: he was like a baby brother to her as he was a year younger but they had been joined at the hip when she asked him about the little container of baklava on the corner of his desk saved for recess, and he introduced her to his own little hub. It was right then she knew he liked her. 

He was the only one to ever refer to her as “Tina”, too. Tina Calderón with her long molasses-colored hair down to her thick waist.

It started with the headaches, when they had had lunch together a month ago and he had complained of an awful pain in the right side of his head and one that would only just go away with his drinking some water. It only persisted with every day, and when his vision began to slip away was when his girlfriend Brittany suggested he go to the hospital. Christine arrived right as they did, and right as the surgeons took him away into the first bed available. Brittany held back with her hands pressed to her mouth as if she was about to vomit or scream, but Christine held her close to her out of comfort.

The whole day felt like a complete whirlwind, and even more so when the two women returned home in shambles.

“He’s going to be okay,” Christine assured her with her arms around her once again.

“But what if he dies, Chris?” Brittany demanded, tearful. “What am I going to do if he goes?”

“He’ll be fine. Whatever it is, they’ll take it out and then he’ll be in the hospital for a few days to rest.”

The phone rang right then, and Christine ducked around her to fetch the cordless phone on the wall.

“Here, I’ll go see him tomorrow,” she volunteered with a finger raised to her. “You go to work in the morning and try to focus away from him. It’s gonna be hard, but it’ll be worth it.” Brittany wiped away a tear as Christine answered the phone. “Hello?”

“Hi, I’m Therese, the head nurse from urgent care in Bethlehem. Is Brittany there?”

“Um, not at the moment, no,” Christine replied as she knew that Brittany would in no way want to speak to them at all. “I’m Christine her friend, though, so I can relay this to her.”

“Okay, Christine! I wanted to tell her that John is still in surgery right now. He had a benign tumor embedded in his brain but as they were closing him up, they found two blood clots in his lungs.” Christine gasped at that. She had no memory of him having complained of anything in his chest at all. “They’re trying to extract the clots from his lungs, it’s a very delicate surgery but the surgeons are doing what they can for him, though.”

“Okay,” she replied with somewhat of a feeling of dread over her.

“If it’s unsuccessful, he’ll have to be on blood thinners for the foreseeable future,” the nurse continued. “But he’ll live, though.”

“Okay,” Christine replied with a nod of her head and a run of her fingers through her hair. “Okay, I’ll tell her.”

Needless to say, Brittany had all but fallen apart once the news was out. As a result, Christine decided to visit him alone.

It was one of those big but dimly lit hospitals in the heart of Pennsylvania where the foggy nights made her think of a man with a pyramid shaped helmet enshrouded over his head coming on out of hiding with a long wide knife in hand, ready to take them all out for blood. She lingered back against the wall with her hands folded over her lap in repose as doctors and nurses strode on past her.

The only thing she could do was wait and be patient.

She checked her wristwatch. Seven after noon. It had been nearly twenty-four whole hours since John had gone into surgery for something growing inside of his skull as well as the two blood clots in his lungs. He was only twenty-nine and yet he had the mother of all health problems.

But it had only been a single minute before the nurse emerged from behind the glass wall to face her. Christine raised her eyebrows at her.

“Are you Tina?” And Christine grimaced at the sound of her using the nickname that only her best friend used with her. But with the grimace came a nod of her head.

“The surgery on his brain was a success,” said the nurse. “They were able to extract the tumor as well as any surrounding tissue lest it come back again. But I’m afraid that the surgery on his lungs was not.” Christine closed her eyes at the sound of that and her heart sank. “This doesn’t mean he’ll die, though. It just means that he has to be on blood thinners for the foreseeable future.”

“Do you know what caused the clots?” Christine asked her.

“I’m afraid we don’t,” she replied. “We’re running tests but there’s nothing that we’ve confirmed yet.”

Christine nodded her head, and she stood to her feet and followed the nurse into the left wing of the hospital. The smell of disinfectant filled the air all around her. Machines beeped and whirred all across the room. A hoarse cough off to the left made her grimace and hold her breath.

Near the end of the row, at the last room, the nurse tugged the curtain aside, and Christine beheld the view of her best friend propped up against a pillow with his hands down by his sides.

The surgeons hadn’t done much to the actual crown of his head per se, but she could see the gauze rested upon the right side of the crown as well as the patch over his eye. A tube for supplementary oxygen had been taped up against his nose, and yet he breathed in deep and at a steady pace. The bracelet around his wrist beholding his full name of Jonathan Zachariah Malachi Gabríel Miranda; she smiled when she spotted the accent mark in his middle name.

“There you are,” she declared with her arms wide open for him. John kept his hands down by his sides as Christine lunged for him to embrace him.

“I’ll let you two catch up,” said the nurse, and they were left alone there in their very own private room. Christine tugged the chair up next to the edge of the bed. His long mousy brown curls dangled down over his shoulder like the vines of a tree. His skin was soft in appearance, and his body looked emaciated and withered away, and she knew that he hadn’t eaten a morsel of food at all, not even when he had woken up from his surgery.

“She literally thought you were my girlfriend,” he said in a broken voice.

“Who, the nurse?” Christine asked him.

“Yeah, she saw you and told me my lover is here to visit me.” He cracked her a smile, albeit a painful one, and he massaged his temple with his fingertips.

“A benign tumor the size of a ping-pong ball,” he said in a low voice. “They were able to take it out no problem but the clots in my lungs, they had hell of a time with, though. I’m probably going to be on blood thinners the rest of my life.”

“I’d be happy to remind you to take them,” Christine pointed out, and she rested a hand on the back of his. John sighed through his nose and let his eyes wander down to his feet and the far edge of the bed.

“I love you,” she whispered into his ear. He showed her a smile, albeit a small slightly sad one.

“You and my bubbie are kind of the only people I have,” he confessed in a light voice. “Mother’s gone, brother won’t talk to me—he thinks I do blow—and I haven’t seen my dad in years. I don’t even know where he is now. The last letter I got from him he was in the Azores and that was seven years ago.”

“You have Brittany, too,” Christine pointed out.

“It’s complicated with Brittany,” John confessed to her with a quick shake of his head. “I might just end it with her once I’m done here. She refuses to have sex with me—in fact, I can’t even remember the last time we had sex, either. She’s kind of just still with me because she likes being a part of a couple.”

He fetched up a sigh once again. She squeezed his hand.

“Let’s go to California,” she suggested. “My dad and my stepmom live out there. Living out there can help you recover more. I won’t leave your side, either.”

“What about my grandma, though?”

“We can take her with,” Christine promised him. “We’ll find a way to bring her with. We could… get ourselves out there first and then we’ll send for her to come along.” She leaned in closer to him, and she leaned in so close that she could smell the disinfectant from under the gauze over his eye. “Going to California, cowboy.”

“I don’t really know, Tina,” he confessed with a shake of his head.

“We’re both Portuguese,” she assured him. “We can do it. You can do it.” She extended a hand to him, and she linked fingers with his long and lanky ones. He reached up and nudged the eyepatch upon his head, to which Christine grimaced at the sight.

“You’re my best friend, Tina,” he said. “You’re kind of my rock now.”

“No, I’m the crazy one,” she assured him. “We’ve known each other since we were eight years old. I’m the one giving us a bunch of shit day in day out.”

“The crazy ones are usually the ones who rock steady after all,” he pointed out as his good eye drooped closed. John shifted his weight in the bed and Christine helped him out with the pillows nestled behind him. He leaned back and tilted his head back against the top of his main pillow: she eyed the shape of his throat, the way his Adam’s apple was all the more prominent given he hadn’t eaten anything in a long time.

“I’ll probably be out of here in a few days,” he told her. “You know. Just so I recover and everything.”

“Do you think they’ll take the eyepatch off around then?” she asked.

“I don’t really know,” he confessed. “The tumor was not only this side of my head, but it was pretty close to my eyes. When they took it out, they told me that they worried about damaging my optic nerve too much. So, to protect my eye from anything nefarious for the time being, they put this on me. The nurse said she’ll take it off in the next day or so to keep my eyes healthy.”

John then lifted his head and blinked his good eye a bit. He rested a hand on his stomach.

“I’m kind of hungry,” he said. “I had a little bit of soup when I woke up but it wasn’t very good. It didn’t help that it was tepid, too.”

“Ew,” Christine said with a wrinkle of her nose at that. “There’s the deli across the street, would you like a sandwich?”

“I would love a sandwich from there,” he replied with a raise of his good eyebrow. “A nice fat corned beef sandwich with some sauerkraut.”

“I’ll get that and also a wrap for myself,” she noted as she stood back up and slung her purse over her shoulder. She was about to head out of there when John cleared his throat again.

“Hey, Tina?”

She turned back around again to look on at him, her best friend in the last twenty years, now with a patch over his one eye and a scar on his head.

“Thank you.”

She showed him a smile when the sun outside seemed to grow a bit brighter than it had had a few minutes before.

“The hell?”

“Is it just me or did it just get awfully bright?” he asked her, baffled.

“It did,” she said, and she squinted her eyes at him. “I better hustle.”

He nodded his head and a few locks of his curled hair dangled down the side of his face onto his shoulder. “Please do. Not just from that, but from—” He rested his hand on his slender stomach once again, and she showed him a smile once more.

[tup-ika-5385]

Chapter 3 Summary:

Plans are made as Tup's condition starts to deteriorate.

Fic Summary:

Six months after the trials of Umbara, Tup and Dogma are growing into themselves as well-established members of the 501st. Tup's been training more with Fives and Jesse, set on an ARC trooper promotion, and even Dogma has found a place in medical, where his intense focus and organization are both needed and appreciated.

While practicing for his medic exams, Dogma find some worrying abnormalities in Tup's numbers, making some worrying discoveries. As Tup's condition worsens, help comes from unlikely sources as Dogma, Kix, Fives, and Hardcase fight to discover the truth and save their brother.

A Sequel to the fic "A Series of Hard Knocks," focusing on Tup and Dogma as they discover a nefarious plot.

Chapter 3:

To absolutely nobody’s surprise, Tup fell asleep the moment they got back to their bunkroom, and after reviewing his notes with Kix, it wasn’t long before Dogma joined him. Despite the sharp worry clawing at the back of his mind, Dogma fell asleep quickly, slumped against his batchmate’s chest, listening to his heartbeat. It was barely five hours later when he woke up again, Tup still plastered to his side, to find Kix and Fives discussing something over a datapad.

Carefully removing himself from Tup’s grasp, Dogma slid out of the bunk and gave a quiet nod to the other two. 

“Get enough sleep, Dogma?” Kix asked with a knowing look. Back when he’d taken his medic’s exam, he hadn’t slept nearly enough. He could only imagine the added stress that Dogma was likely feeling from this whole scenario.

“I’m fine,” Dogma grunted. “How’s Tup’s scans? Have you two come up with anything yet?”

Fives grimaced, “I looked through what I could find of the Kaminoan’s files, and I couldn’t find anything on brain tumors. Other types of tumors, yes, but nothing from the brain.”

Kix nodded, “It was weird, but we could barely even find brain scans to compare Tup’s to; at least not higher-level scans like we did. It’s like the long-necks used their di’kutla hyper tests every single time, just for kicks!” 

Fives had been smirking at Kix’s words, “for kicks,” when a thought came to mind. “Still, you’d think that they took brain scans for other things. Brain bleeds, concussions, kriff, even their freaky experiments. But we found nothing. I’m just saying, it’s a little suspicious.”

“Hmm. You might be onto something, Fives. Either way, though, we still need to figure out how to get whatever-it-is out of Tup’s head– without the Kaminoans finding out about it.” Kix said, deep in thought.

“Well, why don’t you just remove it?” Fives asked.

Kix rolled his eyes. “Oh, and should I rearrange the stars while I’m at it? I’m a field medic, Fives, not a brain surgeon. That requires special training; that or a really good medical droid.” He snapped before wincing internally at his tone. “Sorry, haven’t had my kaff yet.”

Fives shrugged, unoffended. “It’s okay, we all had an early start today. But if it’s a med droid we need, that shouldn’t be too difficult. We’ll just need to find one and convince it to do the surgery without alerting the long-necks. Easy!”

Dogma raised an eyebrow at Fives’ nonchalance. “And how do you plan on doing that?” Fives was taking this far too lightly, in his sleep-deprived opinion.

Typing on his datapad once again, Fives responded. “Well, if you give me a moment to find the programming manual for those medical droids–” 

“An AZ unit would be better,” Kix interjected, and Fives nodded before continuing.

“Yep, just as I thought. Most droids, even the stuffy ones, will go against basic protocol if it means that their base function is fulfilled. Luckily for us, AZ units are programmed to do what’s best for the patient, above all else! So if we convince the droid that it would harm Tup to alert the Kaminoans, we should be good to go!”

“Are you sure that’s going to work?” Dogma asked, hopeful but still skeptical.

“I’m sure of it! Besides, growing up with Echo as a batchmate, I got pretty good at thinking around the regs.” Fives grinned, relieved that they finally had a plan to help Tup. Sure, he was close with everyone in his squad, but since Echo died, Tup was his best friend, and he hated feeling helpless when his brothers were hurting. 

Kix nodded, and the group sank into thought. “How are we going to get our hands on a medical droid?” 

Fives smirked, “Leave that to me.”

When Tup came back to awareness an hour later, his entire being felt like it was wrapped in a thick fog. If his vision had been a little off earlier, now it was downright blurry, and he shook his head a bit in the hopes that it would clear it. Instead, a sharp pain lanced through his skull and he let out a groan.

Distantly, he could hear his brothers moving around him, and one of the blurs got close enough that he could recognize Dogma. “-Hey Tup, how are you feeling?”

Tup scrubbed at his face with a clumsy hand. He may not have Dogma’s training, but something definitely felt off. “I-I don’t… feel like myself…” He muttered, earning a concerned look from Dogma.

“Hey Kix, does his voice sound slurred to you?” Dogma asked, shining a light in Tup’s eyes, and Tup let out an uncharacteristic whimper as the light seared his retinas. 

“Sorry, sorry, vod. Just need to check something.” He apologized before turning towards the other medic, and Tup drifted a little, in a haze.

“ –Tup. Tup?” Flinching harshly, Tup realized that he’d spaced out again, and the other three troopers were all standing around him. 

“W-what?” He asked, attempting to get up, only to be pushed back down with a gentle hand. 

“We need to get him back to medbay– now.” Kix said, voice insistent. “I don’t know why, but his numbers are looking worse, and I don’t want to hold off for too much longer.”

Dogma nodded, and Tup belatedly realized that he’d captured his batchmate’s hand at some point, but thankfully Dogma didn’t seem to mind, squeezing it lightly whenever he started to drift again. 

“How are we going to get him into medbay undetected?” He asked, and Fives opened his mouth to respond when, all of a sudden, Hardcase entered the room with an enthusiastic grin. 

“Vode, you would not believe the– what’s going on?” Hardcase paused, noting the stress lines on Kix’s face, and how they all gathered around Tup. “Is Tup alright?”

Fives paused before taking charge of the situation. “There’s no time to explain, vod. We’ve gotta go to medbay. But first, I need you to do something for me.” 

Nodding expectantly, Hardcase said. “Anything, Fives.”

At that, Fives’ expression quirked into a small grin. “I need you to punch me in the face.”

Hardcase blinked, and hardly a moment later, Fives was clutching his jaw with a groan. “You could’ve at least hesitated, vod!” He complained, shaking his head to clear it, a sardonic grin on his face. “Right, let’s head to medical.” He ordered, and the others were swift to follow, with Kix and Dogma each looping one of Tup’s arms around their shoulders.

Hardcase followed behind, a small grin on his face despite his growing worry. “You said there’s no time, Fives… why exactly did I just punch you in the face?”

“Come on, I’ll explain on the way.” Fives said, and Hardcase nodded. He’d followed the ARC into fire many times before; following him into medbay couldn’t be that bad.

Once they got to medbay, citing a sparring match gone wrong, it wasn’t long before Fives and Tup were seated on an exam table, being looked over by a med droid. Thankfully, it was one of the newer AZ units Kix had mentioned. 

With Tup slumped on Fives' side, looking increasingly worse and muttering under his breath about good soldiers, it didn’t take long for the med droid to recognize that something else was going on. Thankfully, Fives came prepared, and after Kix showed the medical droid their scans, it wasn’t long before they were deep in discussion.

“Think about it. It’s your duty to save the patient, right?” Fives asked.

“That is correct.” The med droid bobbed his head in a nod, surprisingly expressive for a droid.

“And you agree that surgery is the correct course of action with these scans, as the best way to save the patient, right?”

“That is correct.”

“So, by stalling and informing the Kaminoans, who according to you, would move to terminate, dissect, and study the patient, you’d be letting the patient die, willingly.” 

Fives forced himself to continue, keeping his voice even despite how the words threatened to choke him. Tup wasn’t on death’s door, not yet, but if he kept going downhill as fast as he was, Fives didn’t need to be a medic to know it’d be bad.

“Impossible! That is against my programming!”

“That’s not the way it looks to me,” Fives challenged.

“I cannot perform a surgery of this magnitude without disobeying protocols.” AZ-3 hedged, and Fives knew he had him right where he wanted.

“Check your programming,” Fives said. “I thought saving the patient at all costs was fundamentally your highest order.”

“That is correct.”

“Right, then let’s get to it.” Finally, Fives allowed a relieved look to cross his face as the medical droid was finally convinced to do the surgery– without alerting the Kaminoans. He looked over to Kix and Dogma, seeing dual looks of relief. Hardcase still looked a little confused, having been blindsided by the whole scenario, but thankfully, he’d kept the questions to a minimum, recognizing the urgency of the situation.

“Remind me to never leave you alone with a medical droid, vod.” Kix said, tired yet amused, still beyond grateful that Tup was going to get the help he needed. 

Tup himself was oblivious to everything that had happened, having fallen into an uneasy state of unconsciousness after they’d laid him down on the exam table, not quite asleep, but definitely not awake either. His hand was still being carefully grasped by Dogma as he kept watch over his brother.

The med droid bobbed in the air, quickly getting started with the surgery prep. “CT-5385 is already unconscious, but I will administer a sedative to ensure he does not awaken during the surgery.”

Fives interjected. “Tup. His name is Tup.” 

“Tup? What is a Tup?” The med droid asked, confused.

“He’s my friend; our brother. He’s not a number.” Fives continued, insistent. 

“Yes he is. We all have numbers. My number is AZ-345211896246498721347. His number is CT-5385. 

“Wrong, he has a name. No clone uses their number, not anymore.” Not since Kamino, and definitely not since Umbara, if any of them had a say in it.

“But you are a number. CT-5555.” The med droid’s tone was curious, even as it puttered around the exam room prepping for Tup’s surgery.

“No, I am Fives. Call me Fives.” 

Kix’s face quirked into a small smile, listening to Fives argue with the medical droid. Still, he couldn’t deny the effectiveness of the ARC trooper’s tactics, convincing the med droid to help Tup.

“But, five is a number?”

“No, not five, Fives .” Fives enunciated to the confused droid.

“Oh…” AZ-3 nodded, and Fives grinned in success, only to be crushed when AZ continued. “The difference is minimal.”

Dogma huffed in amusement, appreciating the distraction from Tup’s deteriorating health, however small. As he stood there, waiting for the medical droid to start cutting into his batchmate’s brain, Dogma jumped forward at a sudden thought. 

“Wait– Tup’s hair, I don’t…” Dogma paused, forcing himself to use clinical terms, even though it was his batchmate laying on the exam table, unconscious and vulnerable.

He reworded his thoughts carefully. “Cutting the patient’s hair unnecessarily would negatively impact his wellbeing. I’ve read about other techniques for civilians with brain tumors, but… is there any way to do the surgery without shaving his head?” 

AZ-3 tilted his head robotically. “Hair is not alive, and thus has no pain receptors. How would cutting CT-5385’s hair negatively impact his well-being?”

Dogma paused for a moment, trying to explain. “Tup… when we were cadets, a trainer once attempted to forcibly cut his hair, against his will. After this event, his range scores were lower for a while, and he had trouble sleeping until it started to grow out again. Even now, he’s… careful about who he allows to touch his hair. Losing sleep could lengthen his recovery, which would be harmful to his overall health.”

A moment passed, and AZ-3’s servos whirred for a second before responding. “It would be less efficient, and would be more time-consuming, but it can be done. Hair-sparing techniques will only require me to shave half-an inch of his hair away from the surgical area, once I have applied the proper sealants. Would you like me to proceed with the surgery for clone trooper Tup?”

Dogma let out a sigh of relief as AZ immediately started prepping for the surgery. “Yes, thank you, AZ.”

AZ bobbed his head, hardly pausing from his “I am a droid, I do not require thanks.”

Dogma shook his head, exasperated, before stepping back, reassured that Tup’s hair would be saved. As he moved back towards the others, Fives gave him a friendly nudge. “Good job, vod. I didn’t even think about his hair.” 

Dogma nodded wearily. “He’s going to have enough worries after this surgery. I didn’t want to add any more, if I could help it.” He kept his gaze on Tup, forcing himself not to look away as AZ continued with the surgery. It was lucky that they'd gotten him into surgery when they did, but his brain couldn't stop going through likelihoods of brain damage, skull pressure, even death, as he forced his gaze away from Tup's vitals.

He flinched slightly as Fives wrapped an arm around his shoulders before he relaxed a little bit at Fives’ reassurance. “Tup’s lucky to have a vod like you watching out for him.” 

“Thanks… you too.” 

Even with the additional steps for the hair-sparing surgery, it wasn’t long before AZ-3 finished the surgery, placing a bacta patch over the incision. Once he was done, he transferred the tumor to a microscope slide, which he passed to Kix.

“What is that?” Fives asked, shuddering at the misshapen tumor on the slide, and a pit of dread filled Dogma’s stomach as he looked back at Tup, still painfully still. Only time would tell if there were any lasting effects, so he squeezed his batchmate’s hand and hoped for the best.

[whats-wild-to-you]

Dr. Daredevil (Jay Park AU)

Chaeyeon

Who knew that Park Jaebeom, the guy who dry-heaved at the sight of blood in med school, would be working in Seoul’s most prestigious hospital. But then again, his grandfather must’ve pulled some strings. 

I heard Ahn So Hee’s distant voice calling my name and shook my head energetically, getting rid of Jaebeom’s face in my brain.

“How do you know Park Jaebeom?” She asked again, lightly pulling at my coat.

“From med school.” I simply answered, unable to elaborate further despite seeing So Hee’s interest peek. “He works here too?” I asked instead, hoping she would say no. But all signs pointed to yes.

“He’s a God. A genius! Steadiest hands! 100% success rate.”

Park Jaebeom?

“What’s his specialty?”

“That’s it. The guy can do anything! Clip an aneurysm during an open craniotomy, perform a CABG surgery, resect tumors. Everything!”

Impossible!

“Wow! He must be really good then.” I mumbled more to myself.

“You said you knew him in med school. Wasn’t he a straight-A student?”

Him? Far from it!

I stifled a laugh at So Hee’s comment. “I guess. We didn’t really interact.”

Could it be that Park Jaebeom got his shit together and actually learned something?

Maybe his grandfather straightened him out because he didn’t really strike me as a man who would do something only to appease others.

“Oh, this is good then!”

“Why?”

“I see here you’re assigned to the same attending. You’re lucky! Dr. Song even lets his 4th-year residents run the OR.”

“What?!”

“Yeah. Of course Park Jaebeom gets to pick surgeries first since he’s the chief resident but Dr. Song usually gets the most intricate cases, so…”

“Wait! What?! Chief resident? Aren’t you the chief resident?”

“Temporary chief resident. I’m second in command, so to speak.” She clarified and a cold shower ran down my back.

What is going on here?

~

Somehow I’ve made it through my first day in my new workplace without bumping into Park Jaebeom again. All I needed now was a shower, to get out of these clothes and talk to Soojung. I doubted she knew about him working at SNUH, and I wasn’t really sure if she’d care at all, but I needed someone to vent to.

“You’re kidding! Park Jaebeom?”

“Right? And on top of that he’s the chief resident! How is that possible?”

Soojung shrugged, leaving me to wonder how Park Jaebeom managed to turn from an indifferent student to an overachieving doctor.

“A lot can change in 6 years. Maybe he got his act together.”

“Park Jaebeom? THE Park Jaebeom? I’ll only believe it when I see it with my own eyes!”

The week went by fast. Park Jaebeom expertly avoided me while I trailed Ahn So Hee. I found out that she was a quirky girl but also a great surgeon. But because of her timid appearance no one appreciated her contribution. I had talked to Soojung about it one evening over pasta and wine.

“Why do you think I went shopping with you? You could be the best surgeon in the world but if you don’t look the part, you’re overlooked.”

I nodded, letting her believe that I waltzed in the hospital wearing the expensive outfits we bought together when in reality I dressed in jeans and a sweater every day. What was the point of dressing up? I was wearing my coat on top.

“It’s just, unfair, you know? She has potential, I know she does, but the attendings keep doubting her. The race of who would become chief resident was between her and Park Jaebum as well but in the end they chose him for his looks.

“See? That’s why I’m glad I don’t have to work in that field. Imagine busting your ass in med school only to be overlooked for someone more popular.”

I nodded and chewed on my pasta in silence.

“Have you talked to Park Jaebeom yet?”

“I haven’t seen him around. He’s either incredibly busy or avoiding me.”

“I know you probably don’t want to hear it but what if he simply doesn’t remember you anymore.”

The thought crossed my mind. More than once. And each time I felt upset. Sure, it might not have been a big deal for him but for me it was. After all, he was my first kiss.

“That might be it. Who are we kidding! I’m not that memorable.”

I decided to drop the topic of Park Jaebeom. Whether he acted like it or really didn’t remember me, wasn’t something I was willing to lose any more sleep over. Instead, my mind circled around Lee Kangmin. I never expected to miss him this bad. Except for Ahn So Hee I didn’t really get close to any other doctors. I harbored a faint suspicion that every doctor viewed their colleagues as competition. It wasn’t like this in Andong. The hospital staff there is like family.

On my way home I called Lee Kangmin, hoping that he had already finished work.

‘It’s so nice to hear your voice, I thought of you today.’

“Yes? Why?”

‘Your favorite patient came. He was looking for you and when I told him that you work in Seoul now he scoffed and left.’

“What?! I hope you held him back!”

‘Nope. Hwang Inseok said we can’t keep a patient against their will.’

“How’s work? Is it manageable?”

‘I should be asking you that!’

“So far all I’m doing is observing. These hotshot surgeons in Seoul don’t let just anyone in their OR. Image is more important than saving lives.”

‘So I guess you don’t get along well with your colleagues?’

“So far I’ve only talked to one. Ahn So Hee. She’s quirky and a good surgeon.”

‘Hey, Chaeyeon, I have the week off next week. Should I come to Seoul?’

“Please, yes! You have to save me from boredom.”

I hung up, realizing that I was already home. Smiling content I got in, showered and fell asleep within minutes of lying down.

The next morning I studied the OR board. Park Jaebeom was scheduled to perform back-to-back surgeries all day. One in particular caught my attention. Hunting down Ahn So Hee, I asked her if I could get in on that. She looked at me and shrugged.

“I don’t see why not.”

Elated, I walked over to the board, adding my name to the list.

Later that day I happened to walk past the OR board again, noticing that my name had been erased.

“Odd.”

No one was around, so I added it back.

“Dr. Baek, I could use your help.” I heard Dr. Song calling after me.

“Of course.” I walked in the room, where a particularly unruly patient was causing havoc.

“Thank you.” Dr. Song smiled.

“Can I ask something?” I asked, once Dr. Song looked up from his chart.

“Sure.”

“Can I join you in the OR on your next surgery?”

“Of course. But, honestly, I don’t know when that’ll be. As you know Dr. Park has been running my service, and very successful at that. So maybe it would be best to ask Dr. Park instead.”

I nodded. I hated that idea. He and I were equals. I didn’t understand why I had to suck up to a colleague.

Dr. Park’s surgery was pushed back. Also, my name has been erased again. A coincidence? I highly doubted that.

I made a mental note to hunt him down tomorrow and demand an explanation. For today I was done and deserved to leave this place.

On my way home my phone beeped. A text from Hwang Inseok appeared on my screen.

How are you doing? You’re having fun?

Sure.

My answer wasn’t convincing enough because soon after I hit [send] my phone rang.

‘What’s wrong?’

“What makes you think something’s wrong?”

‘Stop bullshitting me! Tell me what’s up?’

“Nothing. That’s the problem. Since transferring here I haven’t seen the inside of an OR. It’s not like this is my first day. I’m not fresh out of med school either. But everyone’s dismissing me.”

‘You’re the new kid. You have to prove you’re good before you’re accepted.’

“And how do I do that? By the way, that doctor Kim Donghyun was raving about, is his name Park Jaebum?”

‘Yes! That’s him. Did you meet him? He’s impressive. Try to get along with him and you will see the inside of the OR more than your own home.’

“Funny. I’ll keep that in mind.”

‘Lee Kangmin mentioned he’ll be in Seoul next week? Did you know?’

“Yes. I plan to show him around this impressive hospital so his ambitions grow and he decides to apply for a job here.”

‘Funny. I gotta go. Talk to you soon.’

“Good night, Hwang deapyonim.”

~

I caught a glimpse of Park Jaebeom as soon as I entered the hospital, but because I didn’t want to yell, I ran after him and caught him waiting for the elevator.

“Good morning.”

“Morning.” He mumbled, irritated.

“Any interesting surgeries planned for today?”

“Enough, why?”

“I was wondering if I could scrub in with you.”

“Sorry. My OR is full.”

As soon as he uttered these words the doors sprang open and Park Jaebeom walked away without another glance in my direction.

I wondered how he knew if he hadn’t even looked at the OR board but I had no time pondering over that as Ahn So Hee came running towards me.

“Oh, good, you’re here! Quick! Get changed and meet me on the rooftop. A patient in critical condition is arriving by helicopter.

‘Finally!’, I thought. ‘Finally I’ll get to see the inside of the OR.’

Excited, I quickly changed into my scrubs and ran to the elevator.

The surgery lasted longer than expected but the patient was stable and so Ahn So Hee left for her next surgery.

I didn’t get to scrub in on another surgery, instead I stayed back and went through patients’ charts making sure they were doing okay. After a long day I finally walked out of the hospital. Because I was late this morning I had borrowed Soojung’s car, so instead of walking to the nearest bus stop, I headed to the parking garage.

I spotted Park Jaebeom, and yelled after him. He was walking to his car, a red Maserati. When I caught up with him, I tapped him on the shoulder, making him whirl his head around.

“Hello. Can I help you?”

“Yes. You can. I want to know why my name was erased twice off the OR board the other day.”

“My OR was already full.”

“I see. What a coincidence. Then, since I have you here, can I scrub in on your next surgery?”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible.”

I blinked a few times, certain I heard him wrong. “Excuse me?”

“I have my team. The doctors and nurses I work with. I like it that way.”

“You’re playing favorites? Why am I surprised?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Dr. …”

“Baek!” I said, mildly irritated.

“Dr. Baek, the chief knows this and he’s fine with it since I attract many patients and positive media to this hospital.”

“Fine. Sooner or later I’ll find a way into your OR.”

I stomped off, climbing into Soojung’s SUV. I needed to get away from here. Fast. Otherwise I would be tempted to run him over with her car.

The highlight of the following week was when Lee Kangmin met me in the hospital’s cafeteria for lunch. Usually doctors didn’t frequent the cafeteria since it was open to anyone. Being in the same space with patients or relatives, they immediately got bombarded with questions. Questions they had to answer, otherwise they’d be called rude. But if you were a starving doctor and only had fifteen minutes to eat, the cafeteria was your only choice.

“… and he acted like he didn’t know you?”

“Like he forgot my name!”

“Maybe he did.”

“What? He doesn’t strike me as an early dementia candidate. No, he’s faking it. I just don’t know why?”

“Maybe he’s embarrassed. Since you know him. He doesn’t want his colleagues to know he used to be a lazy student and that’s why he’s acting like a stranger.”

Kangmin wasn’t wrong. Park Jaebeom was practically a stranger. But I knew about his past and he didn’t want to give me an opportunity to damage his image and status.

Late at night as I got off work, I watched him step into the elevator and quickly ran after him.

“I’m not going to embarrass you. I just don’t like being overlooked.” I quickly said as the doors closed.

“I’m sorry?”

“I’m talking about the past.” I said, looking at him intently.

He sighed deeply, raising an eyebrow. “Do we know each other?”

I looked like a fish out of water as the elevator door opened and Park Jaebeom stepped out, casually walking up to his car.

“He’s impossible!” I found Ahn So Hee in the break room and had to vent. I didn’t know how close she was to him but that didn’t matter.

“He’s a jerk, yes! Everybody knows that. Arrogant and with a God complex. But he’s good at his job. Does a lot of difficult surgeries, operates on those who have been rejected by other surgeons. Every one of these surgeries means publicity. Publicity means investments and investments means money.”

“He’s a megalomaniac asshole, that’s what he is! I heard no one wants to work with him.” I didn’t really hear that, mainly because no one talked to me since I arrived here but I figured I had to throw So Hee a bone.

“From the beginning he said he prefers to work alone. Then slowly he formed a team around him. He always has the same people in his OR.”

“I noticed. What’s up with that?”

Ahn So Hee shrugged. “Maybe he’s superstitious.”

I highly doubted that. There was an other explanation for his strange behavior and I would be the one to uncover it.

-> next chapter

[sideshow-tornado]

I am calm, but more quiet calm with a rage and anger burning underneath. Playing my very needed role to keep it together for my family. I’ve done it my whole life and I am pretty much resigned to being okay with that. It’s just so frustrating to be in this position again because something just very awful has happened. Something that is no one’s fault.

My cousin Stephanie and I are just six weeks apart in age, and we grew up as close as siblings. So her kids, while technically my first cousins once removed, I have much more of an Uncle & Nephew/Niece relationship with. And with her two oldest biological children having absentee fathers, I even have had somewhat of father figure role in their lives.

Stephanie has four children. Her oldest son Brent, who is 24, and recently finished a stint in the US Marines now working in cybersecurity in the telecommunications industry; doing a great job of starting his life and making something of himself.

Her youngest is my niece Lily, who is 7, and my parents’ de facto grandchild; anyone follows my personal posts here has certainly heard me talk about her frequently as I spend a lot time with her. She was born a month after my divorce was finalized and honestly being a part of her life has been very healing for me.

Stephanie also took in a young girl named Zoe when she was four years old after her mother died tragically in a flash flood related drowning. Zoe got married and had a daughter of her own in December of 2020, named Avery Noel appropriately.

Zoe was diagnosed with a brain tumor and cancer called Glioblastoma, a rare condition that usually affects older white men. Late Senators Ted Kennedy and John McCain both died from it. Zoe had surgery and chemotherapy & radiation to little effect. She died a year ago last month at the age of 26.

And she died just two days after my grandmother, shared with my cousin Stephanie and that side of my family, my father’s mother. My last grandparent. It’s been a tough few years.

I have not yet mentioned Stephanie’s middle biological child, her daughter Ava. She turned 16 earlier this summer. Very much in the middle, being 8 years younger than Brent and 8 years older than Lily. A good kid. Had a rough go. The most chaotic early childhood, with her biological father’s family being even more of a train wreck than my own.

I’ve always been as close to her as I can. Because of friction between Stephanie and Ava’s biological father I handled a lot of early drop offs to the other family, but by the time she was 3 that side of her family was mostly out of the picture. Even still I have memories that gut punch me of having to hand over a crying toddler who did not want me to leave her.

Ava grew up fast, was a feisty kid sure, but not a bad kid. She wanted to be in a play after being exposed to it through me, so we got to act together in a production of Cinderella, at my former theatre company back when she was 8 years old. We had fun. She decided not to pursue it any further, but it’s a great memory we shared. She played soccer and did gymnastics for a while, but never got too serious about either. She loves dogs. And was always excited to tag along with me to the movies, like her old brother had done so often.

As she has become a teenager there has been some growing apart, as is common, but I’ve always tried my best to remind her I’m always there for her when she wants or needs it. I’ll cash app her if she’s out with friends, or order door dash to school on days she’s allowed to get it.

Stephanie and Lily’s father have been going through a contentious divorce and custody battle the past year and half, and Ava has suffered a lot of the collateral damage from it; there has been emotional abuse and neglect, from both sides. Stephanie has substance abuse issues and is a text book Narcissist, I truly do not use that word lightly.

Stephanie has alienated herself from most of her friends and family, even me. But we love her, and we love her kids and just want to protect and take care of them. She hasn’t been making that easy.

This is all a very, very long way to say that Ava started experiencing some headaches and facial numbness three weeks ago. A few visits to the ER and follow ups with her doctor lead to an initial diagnosis or suspected diagnosis of Bells Palsy. Her conditioned worsened this past Thursday night, went back to the ER because she was in pain and her face was swollen with her left eye literally bulging out. A CT scan was done and they discovered a mass. She was immediately transported to the nearest children’s hospital.

Additional testing and examination from the specialists have shown that she has a common but aggressive and high risk form of cancer. Rhabdomyosarcoma.

I was at work Friday morning when I found out she was in the hospital. I immediately left work to go and be with her and help Stephanie manage. I was able to sit with her while two different oncologists came by and other doctors and surgeons and case workers discussed her treatment and options. Lots of information.

Last night they did a procedure to get biopsy of the mass, and draw bone marrow and spinal fluid samples to get more info about the cancer. As well to go ahead and surgically insert a port catheter in her chest to be used for chemotherapy.

The preliminary results indicated the cancer is more aggressive and the mass larger than originally thought, so they started her chemo this evening.

My mom and I are going to take Lily to visit her tomorrow whenever she is feeling up to it.

I feel good about the level of care she is receiving, it’s a great hospital, the staff all instill confidence and respect. They are being blunt and honest, which is what Ava wants. She’s taking it all pretty well but even so it’s devastating. And scary. And shocking. And just sucks so very much.

[mydreamdoll]

The settling dust of my 25th year

cw: discussions of weight loss, surgery, and death

I got out of the shower this morning (or i guess I should say afternoon, I slept until a humiliatingly late hour today) and had to once again face down the problem that's been plaguing me every day for the past few months- none of my clothes fit me anymore. Everything I own is two sizes too big, banishing me to a perpetual state of frumpiness; a silhouette that spits in the face of the body that I've worked so hard to construct. Except today there was one thing that did fit. That thick plaid skirt, the one that was sized incorrectly on [REDACTED].com and arrived to my house looking impossibly small, the one that I had in the donation pile for months before deciding to take it out and christen it as the holy icon of all of my lofty aspirations. I only tried it on out of curiosity and to my shock, for the first time, it zipped all the way up.

I don't really know how to talk about my body with other people, or in writing for that matter. I don't think that anyone else in my life really knows how to talk about it either. It feels somehow taboo and uncouth to acknowledge the fact that I've lost weight, and even more-so to acknowledge that I lost it on purpose. But the truth is that I did and that I'm extremely proud of myself for doing it. I wish that I could be somebody that didn't care about things like being skinny and I feel a sort of shame over not being "body positive enough", or at least I worry that people will see me that way, but god being a woman is so difficult and complex and being trans is even more difficult and complex and honestly, for me, the way that my body looked just represented too much. It became a physical manifestation of all of the ways that I had given up on own life- my surrender to alcoholism, my inability to cook my own food, my binge eating as a way to cope, my pure apathy towards my own lifestyle. I think that to an extent, I needed to look like my old self as a part of returning to a new version of my old self. I needed to see that I'd gotten better if I was going to truly believe it. When I look into the mirror now, I see somebody that finally healed, somebody that pushed through the depression and trauma and heartache and despite it all made herself get up and walk, someone who started caring if she lived or died and by extension started caring about what she put in her body, somebody who had a goal and was somehow able to really, truly achieve it without taking shortcuts or simply switching to a new kind of unhealthiness. I see somebody that did things that I never thought I'd be able to do, and became things that I never thought I'd be able to become.

-

Getting diagnosed with a brain tumor at the age of 24 and immediately going into an operation that you were convinced you would not wake up from will change you in unimaginable ways. I'm sure you don't need me to tell you that. As I tried to fall asleep in that hospital room that looked more like an outdated office than a room meant to be slept in, I struggled to be anything but wide awake, haunted by the life I had lived. 24 years and nothing to show for it, nothing to leave behind but the memory of a miserable girl who died too young to get better.

It's been eight months. I lived through it. I'm 25 now and I hardly recognize myself. It feels like I died on that operating table and was reborn as someone new, like a version of me from a different, far better, timeline stepped in and inhabited my body. For the first time in my life I feel like an actual woman, not just a sad imitation of one. I feel stable, capable of change and action and confidence and aspiration. Since waking up I've been feeling almost entirely straight where I used to feel almost entirely gay. Mostly, I feel like an adult, a functioning person, who is in control of her own life. Given the absolute mess that I was for my entire life, these feelings were completely brand new for me so I frantically tried to take that energy and put it to use. I got my physical health together, I got my hormone dosage raised and got back on anti-depressants and got sober, I've started writing again and dreaming of a better life for myself, one that I never really thought I wanted and one who's shape still feels unfamiliar and confusing to me. I mean I really did it, I genuinely got better. But it still hasn't felt like enough.

The issue that I am now left with can be pretty perfectly summed up by a quote from Azealia Banks:

"so... what now?"

I've gone through this insane and traumatic and beautiful experience that has fundamentally changed me as a person and pushed me to become a wildly better version of myself and now I'm just sort of... sitting here with it. Truthfully, I have no idea what to do with all of this, I know that I now posses the tools and ability to make a better, more fulfilling life for myself but I don't even know where to begin or what that would look like. With everything that changed, the main thing that remained is the fact that I feel completely directionless in this life, I mean I have truly no grasp on what my purpose is. I start to wonder what all of this change even really means in the big picture. I feel like a more independent woman but I'm still working a dead end job, not making enough to even rent my own apartment. I feel skinny and beautiful yet I'm still too terrified to pursue the romantic love that I so desperately desire; still too afraid to confess my feelings to the man that I so desperately want to be with. I feel a new passion for life but I still spend most of my time either in my room or with the same three friends that I'm always with, feeling dumbfounded about how and where to find any kind of new experience in this lifeless city.

What good is rebirth if you're just a new person in the same old life?

I'm trying though. I've been saying yes to concerts and events (something that is very against my nature), I've been trying out new hobbies, I'm revamping this blog in hopes that I'll actually write with some consistency. It's hard to ever feel like it's enough though. I'm starting to accept that it probably won't feel like enough until the day comes where I look behind me and realize that my life is completely different and I'll see that it had been slowly changing all along. I just have to keep trying, and to a level, I probably have to keep tormenting myself about it. Maybe a healthy dose of fear is what I need to push me. I've recently decided to go to college this winter. I never went after highschool, I would have done terribly at it, but now I can do it for free and I feel capable and excited by the idea of being in the academic world so... why not? I suppose. I really just need to pick a direction so that I can get up and walk, and I think that a major change like that would make for a good offering to the gods of destiny.

I can't say where it will bring me, or if it will be something that I end up seeing through to the end, but I can say that I'm happy and I'm trying.

[steele-soulmate]

Tattooed Wings, CHAPTER 564, Peter Steele & OFC, Soulmate AU

SUMMARY: Mary Claire Bradley meets her soulmate- literally- the famous Peter Steele of metal group Type O Negative. But will obstacles including trauma, stalkers, and toxic family members get in the way of their life?

WARNING: mentions of child rape (nothing graphic) PTSD, milk kink, soft smut, grinding, assault, fingering, hand jobs, blow jobs, 69, P in V sex, blood, noncon rape, violence, death, vandalism, graffiti, attempted kidnapping, break-ins, wild animal attacks, terrorist attack (sabotage) consensual impregnation, bareback, impregnation kink, creampies, terrorist attacks (shootings) hit and run pedestrian accident, precipitous labor, neonatal death, abandoned baby

WORDS: 1152

“Hihi Sammi- whadup?” I greeted my baby sister with a happy chirp upon answering the call to my cell phone.

“Hello, is this Mary Claire Bradley?”

“It’s Ratajczyk now, but who is this?” I asked, rolling away from an impromptu snuggle session with my beefcake of a husband, freeing his enormous kraken from my womanly cavern of wonders.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. My name is Dr. Charles Lamb and I am Samantha Heart’s primary care physician. Is now a bad time?”

“Nope.” I popped the P dramatically. “Now, please answer my question.”

“Samantha had been complaining of migraines for the past six years that she had been under my care. Today I ran an MRI, and I found a sizable mass in the mid upper right side cortex of her brain. You are listed as her primary contact in case she is unable to make any decisions for herself.”

A pit formed in the pit of my tummy. Sammi had always complained of head pains, ever since we were very small.

“How long has it been in her head?” I literally felt like I was going to puke.

“It’s hard to say for certain. But surgery to remove it would kill her for certain. I would like to put her on a newly released drug. It’s main purpose is to keep the blood pressure at a more reasonable level, but it’s also used in making tumors shrink in on oneself.”

“Sweetheart?”

I turned around and looked up at Peter, standing before me in his handsome naked glory with his dick hanging between his thighs, still partway inflated.

“It’s Sammi, she has a tumor in her head,” I whimpered as he took my cell phone from my hand and welcomed me in for a tearful hug.

As he spoke to the doctor, a sudden wave of depression and worry sunk ugly claws deep into my chest, making it difficult to breathe.

“Hey hey hey there now, sweetheart,” Peter murmured, dropping to a knee to gently cradle the side of my face in one of his massive hands. “Can you breathe with me now?”

In, two, three, four…

THUD THUMP

Hold, two, three, four…

THUD THUMP

Out, two, three, four…

THUD THUMP

“Let’s get dressed, yeah?” Peter told me. “I can drop you off at Sammi’s apartment for you to grab some of her stuff while I go to the hospital and pick her up. I can call Josh and we can pick him up on the way and he can drive Sammi’s car back over here for her, okay?”

“Yeah, sure, alright,” I sniffled as he set me on the bed, doing a quick check in with me before helping me into fresh panties and sweatpants, tugging one of his t-shirts onto me. I flailed as my head popped out of the neck hole, practically swimming in the large garment as I watched Peter hastily don boxers, sweatpants and a too small band T-shirt that clung to his muscles.

“I’ll call Isabelle on our way, okay sweetheart?” he told me. “You just go and get ready for our little road trip/”

Forty minutes later, Peter was pulling up to Josh’s house, where the grizzled man jumped into the passenger seat at once, rolling the window down to wave at his wife, who was standing up on the porch.

“So, what kind of car does Sammi drive?” Josh asked as he clicked his seatbelt into the lock.

“She drives an ’87 Volkswagen bus, affectionally nicknamed the great Pumpkinmobile,” I answered at once, sitting directly behind Peter as he carefully maneuvered the family automobile through the thick traffic. “Jackie has done most of the modifications on it, like making it Bluetooth compatible, swapping out for comfier seats and adding more space into the back for all of our faire crap.”

“Ah, okay.” I couldn’t see his face, but I knew that he could guess at how worried I was as Peter pulled up to Sammi’s apartment complex.

I got out and hurried inside, taking out the key that my baby sister had entrusted me with to open the door to her unit.

I hurried deeper inside after locking the door behind me, stopping by the coat closet and grabbing two duffle bags, which I carried with me into her bedroom, where I began to pack clothes and underthings. I frowned at the outlandish amount of sexy thongs and lacy lingerie that she had neatly stashed in one of four drawers. I was quick and decisive as I packed things for her before going into Baby Noah’s bedroom.

I smiled at the sweet circus theming, packing up clothes and a few plush toys for the little man, grabbing a folded blankie that was on his bed.

I did a quick once over as I went through the apartment, taking note of the little cactus standing on the counter of her bathroom. I gave it a little bit of water before turning to text Peter.

MARY CLAIRE- I PACKED STUFF FOR SAMMI AND BABY NOAH.

PETER- OKAY DID YOU PACK SHOES FOR BABY NOAH?

MARY CLAIRE- YES I DID

I went back into Baby Noah’s room and grabbed a random pair of baby tennis shoes, stuffing them into his little duffle bag.

MARY CLAIRE- I THINK I PACKED EVERYTHING THAT THEY WILL NEED!

PETER- OKAY, I’M AT THE HOSPITAL NOW PICKING UP SAMMI- I’LL COME AND PICK YOU UP, THEN YOU CAN GO INTO THE WALMART PHARMASY TO PICK UP HER MEIDCATION, ALRIGHT? JOSH WILL CALL FOR AN UBER ONCE WE GET HOME AGAIN

MARY CLAIRE- SOUNDS PERFECT MY LOVE :)

TAGLISTS ARE OPEN/ ASK BOX IS OPEN/ REQUESTS ARE OPEN/ PLOT BUNNIES ARE WELCOMED

If you liked this, then please consider buying me a coffee HERE It only costs $3!!!

PETER STEELE TAGLIST

@rock-a-noodle

@ch3rry-c01a

[jessaerys]

L: you were dropped on your head as a baby, weren't you

patient: uh, yeah, but how—

L: you're wearing last season's prada shoes. i can infer from this that while you have the means to project wealth and status your poor attention to detail is a subconscious desire for someone to notice the slight faux-pas, perhaps even humiliate you about it, which leads me to believe you had parents who—

misa (hospital director): [barging into exam room] ryuzaki if we get sued one more time over you eating hot flaming cheetos in the operating room 

L: but

misa: yes it counts even if you use chopsticks. pervert

L: fascist. your tits look fantastic today, by the way. it must be because you're ovulating

misa: you track my— nevermind. i don't want to know 

patient: i have a sore throat

L: the truth is

L: [lying] you have ass cancer

[cut to successors]

near: it could be residual cartiloaphasia from the infant head trauma spreading to his throat

mello: clearly it is deepthroat syndrome. L tell near it is deepthroat syndrome

L: both of you are wrong. any other suggestions before i go spy on doctor yagami's 4 pm silent jerkoff session through the hole in his wall

mello: we could nuke the throatum with radiation. once the skin has burned off we will be able to see what is causing the cough

near: that treatment is experimental—

L: [already walking away] do it. whoever figures it out first gets to take the elevator with me on the way out

near and mello: [look at each other with barely contained unresolved sexual tension]

mello: i’m going to suck his dick first

near:

near: [runs out of the room to get a 0.6 second advantage]

[later that day]

near: [standing daddy-issues close] you know, L, you walk around barefoot and claim it is because by occasionally stepping on biohazardous material you will build an immunity to every disease known to man, but deep down, you do it because you care for your patients, don't you?

L: [shaking pill bottle] do you want a strawberry-flavored vicodin 

matt: [walking into the room] [australian accent] uh. sorry to interrupt. mello is stuck in the—

L: the MRI machine again?

matt: [australian accent] yeah the MRI machine again

[meanwhile in the brain surgery department] 

patient: so did you remove the tumor

light: yes (: we just need to do a couple more tests before we are ready to release you. who is he who walks amongst men wielding the power of gods?

patient: [robotically] you, kira

[clutching the bathroom sink] do NOT think of a house md L + successors death note AU you're better than this

[ceciliasthings]

" A second chance " (1/2)

Summary: Eugene lost his wife Max to illness He is now a single father to a beautiful baby girl named Rosie. A year later you join communhealth as a guard, you have feelings for him but will he be able to reciprocate?

Eugene never thought he would go through that again, losing someone he loved before his eyes he thought he would only go through it when it was with him but as we never know tomorrow, There he was again staring at the white walls of the hospital sitting in a waiting room with his one year old baby on his lap sleeping peacefully.

A few months ago Max was complaining of headaches he thought it was due to stress and also the baby but the headaches got worse until one day she fainted, That was one of the worst news he got she had a brain tumor that was like a punch in the stomach for him, he couldn't lose his daughter's mother the only person who ever loved him,At that moment he was praying for his beloved to be okay and that in a blink of an eye she would be home again..

He was so lost in his prayers that he didn't hear Tomy open the waiting room door, he walked towards Eugene and put a hand on his shoulder, Eugene he turned his head sharply towards Tomi and quickly asked him.

- How is Max? Did everything go well with the surgery?

Tomy frowns and trying to find the right words he says- Eugene.... I'm so sorry.. we did everything we could but she couldn't take it..

- No!! She can't have died she's strong it must be some mistake!! I need to see her immediately..-He gets up but Tom tries to stop him.

- Eugene, I know this is a sensitive time for you, but please think of your daughter.. you need to be strong for her..

Tears started streaming down his face he didn't want to believe it, he was completely floorless he looked down and saw his daughter who even with all the turmoil was still sleeping, He didn't know how he was going to raise her alone he knew he had friends but he and Max planned it, Max knew how to handle with somethings better than him, tomy helped him to sit down again and left for a while, When Eugene's tears began to breathe on Rosie's face, she woke up and began to cry. He held her close to his chest and said.

- shhh It's gonna be alright Rosie.. it's gonna be everything okay..- He looks once more into the waiting room,as the baby goes back to sleep peacefully on his chest.

1 year later....

- Y/N! - someone screams your name

You hear a familiar voice call out to you as you are leaving the police station, you look back and see Mercer you would call him your best friend, today it has been three months since you arrived at communhealth and he was the only one you could talk to and open up to,you didn't know much about him except that he was engaged and that he had a sister,he didn't talk about him much.

He was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed with a frown - You won't escape this time! You're coming to my engagement celebration dinner!

Since last week he was insisting that you go out more, he knew your routine very well home, work and home again besides him you didn't talk to many people,Whenever he tried to arrange for you two to leave, you managed to escape, today he managed to catch you in the act.

- Mercer..I know you care but wouldn't it be weird with you and your fiancé? Like someone would be left- You give a crooked smile as you try to pull away.

- There's one more guest I want you to meet, go to this restaurant at 7 pm- He hands you a paper with the address- And if you're not, I'll break into your house and take you to the restaurant in your pajamas!

You gave a little smile imagining this situation, but he looked serious he sighed and said.

- You need to get out of the house and get some fresh air, and you'll love meeting my bride- He looks at his watch with widens his eyes.- I have to go now see you later y/n.

you didn't have much choice, you went to the house to change clothes, it was a small apartment with a kitchen, a living room and a bathroom and a bedroom, you opened the door and went towards the bathroom Had a shower and was trying to decide which dress to go for, you didn't have many nice clothes but there was a baby blue flowery dress with white flowers it was perfect for any occasion.when you arrived at the restaurant you see mercer and a girl with pink streaks in her hair sitting at the table as soon as mercer saw you he opened a smile.

- Y/N I'm glad you came I was already thinking about breaking into your apartment haha- He gets up and gives you a hug.

Before you could say anything, when mercer releases you from the hug someone quickly hugs you very tight it was his fiancé.

- Awww nice to meet you!!mercer spoke a lot about you.

You give a crooked smile as you try to push her away but she hugs you tighter, it's been a while since someone hugged you- Nice to meet you too princess.

- Okay okay princess let Y/N breathe haha- mercer says taking the princess off you- let's sit down

It was pretty funny the half hour, you guys talked about some situations at work the princess talked about some situations she went through with the new pet dog that Mercer and she had adopted, You looked at mercer and he was looking at his watch worried until he says to princess.

- Do you think he's coming? - he says worried

- I don't know, I talked to him earlier today and he said he would come-She takes a sip of her soda

you were confused who they were talking to, mercer told you there was one more guest but you thought it was just for you to go, before you could ask, princess says:

- look at him there i told you he would come.-she gives Mercer a smile

when you looked back you saw a man with black hair that was kinda messy and blue eyes he had a tired face with a big beard it looked like he hadn't shaved.

- Sorry for the delay, I was leaving Rosie with yumiko and Magna- he looks at you- Who are you ?

When he looks at you your cheeks flush and your heart races it was there was something about that man that moved you.You stuttered trying to say his name he looked at you more intrigued.

- This is Y/N she is my co-worker y/n this is Eugene he is my brother-in-law.

- Nice to meet you Eugene- you smile kindly but he stays serious as if he were analyzing every part of you.

- Nice to meet you too..- He says monotonously as he sits down next to you.

The mood got a little weird you felt like you weren't welcome there, you looked to the side and saw Eugene looking directly into the glass of water it looked like he didn't want to be there either.

- How's the new book Eugene?-princess asks trying to bring up some topic

- I've been having some writer's block and with Rosie it's hard to write she's already starting to walk I have to start putting gates on the doors.

- Who is Rosie?is your daughter? - you lean on the table looking at him

- Yes..- He says coldly as he takes a sip of water.

Mercer and Princess realized the strange situation they put you in, you were thinking of leaving but Princess asks you.

- Sooo y/n are you getting out with someone ?

- No, I didn't find anyone very interesting around here, they're more like a friend- You really wanted to escape that question as soon as possible.

- Well Eugene is single and you two-

- Stop..- Eugene says quickly knocking fist on table- I know very well what you two are doing but I want you to stop now!!- He raises his voice a little

But eugene..- Princess says trying to calm him down

- NO!! If I were to date, it wouldn't be a complete stranger!! Not with her - he points at you - not now and not ever!!

That made you very angry who does he think he was to talk about you like that, you didn't even know each other he didn't have that right.

- And you think I want to go out with you?! I only came because Mercer is my friend and I assure you, if I was going to go out with you I wouldn't have come!! - You get up from the table- thanks for the invitation mercer But I'm not even one second closer to that idiot!

The three look at you speechless, Eugene mainly who had his mouth open and in shock, before anyone could say anything you leave the restaurant.Three days passed after that "incident" mercer and you talked a few times but he avoided bringing up the subject, one afternoon you were at the park enjoying your break when you hear someone call your name, you look back and it was him, he was a little different now with a clean shave and much neater hair,he was holding a pink pram and you guessed it was Rosie sleeping peacefully inside.

- Hi...- he got a little closer to the bench where you were - can I sit here?

you weren't mad at him anymore but upset But something in you didn't want him to go away so coldly you say - yes..

He shyly sits down beside you you see him smooth his hands against his knees he was nervous,You two didn't speak a single word for 2 seconds you were looking straight at the lake until he decides to break the silence.

- I apologize for my anti-chivalrous behavior that night...I didn't mean to offend you...-He says this in a low tone while smoothing his hands

You look at him and see that he was really being sincere you let out a sigh and feel a little guilty about what you said too.

- It's okay.. I think we both said unnecessary things that night. I'm sorry I called you an idiot.- You two stare at each other, it makes you a little nervous...

- I started saying those things so you were right I was really an idiot- His mouth curved into a crooked smile as he chuckled lightly.

That got you a few laughs- as far as you're funny, you seem a nice guy - You put your hand on his shoulder.

- I wanted to invite you to my daughter's birthday party, as an apology and also as a beginning of a friend request you seem like a nice person too.- He smiles even more at you

- Thanks for the invitation it's a pleasure to attend Rosie's birthday she's a cute little girl - you lift your head and look at the baby who is now awake.

Eugene gets up from the bench and picks up the stroller.- I have to take her home but see you on Saturday bye Y/N

You nod your head happily as you say goodbye to Eugene and Rosie, you look back at the lake but this time with a slight smile on your lips you didn't know why but you were happy.

Note:I hope you guys enjoyed it, this chapter doesn't have any warnings but the next one I guarantee will have nsfw 😏