#I’d have to do more research to be sure about the nasal and the i vs j analysis

[rolandkaros]

no way iga’s spent 100 weeks at world #1 and still they mispronounce her name every week :/

[seeminglyseph]

I am starting to get a little bit better at anticipating the week of my PMS cycle but that doesn’t actually make me like. Any better at like… the like “oh fuck my emotions and body are doing things I don’t want”

Also apparently the medication for my IIH might actually be the thing making my sense of smell more intense and the nasal rinse is like. Just me smelling less mucus or whatever. Having a rare brain thing is very weird because there is very very little information. I’m just like. Scrolling the subreddit trying to figure out what the fuck is going on. And caffeine makes it worse and seemingly carbonation might taste worse which I’m not sure I’d noticed but I have consumed less beverage so maybe that’s why? Sometimes I don’t notice my sensory input until I draw my attention to it. I have cut out energy drinks almost entirely which I didn’t know was possible for me to do. And I mostly have ginger ale in the house. My appetite is bullshit garbage, but that’s a side effect of two different meds at least. Maybe I will lose the magical weight that fixes the IIH that everyone talks about fixing IIH since that apparently is the only known cure. Just. Losing weight. That’s all people know because it’s so rare there’s no research it remains Idiopathic.

Ugh.

That’s petty bullshit. Um. I mostly just feel gross. Hate this.

[fakeloveaskblog]

(Hi, me again.)

Hey Remy, how are you doing? I have the medicine you asked for. *adderall and xanax pills and ketamine nasal spray appear with a glass of water* From my brief research I would advise not taking them all at once. I’d like to give you a massage to try and help with the joint pain would that be okay with you?

*waits for response and acts according*

Remember that you are incredible and talented and interesting and that people love you. Make sure to keep yourself safe and don’t be afraid to ask for help, whether that be Janus, Remus, me or one of the other ghosts, shadows and demons that inhabit the void. I’m sure I speak for everyone when I say we all want what’s best for you and want to help in any way we can, even if only to talk to you for a while. You are not a bother or a chore and you are worthy of everything we give you and more.

I don’t have much else to say but I’d like to sit with you for a while and keep you company. I’ll be right beside you if you need anything.

Tw: Drug use, abuse, noncon kissing

Your voice cut in just when Virgil had gotten home so Remy was a bit distracted. They forced themself to sit up to kiss him hello but he made a beeline away from them.

"I'm taking a shower. I smell like shit! The guy I was buying your uh Christmas present from had me waiting for like 15 minutes!"

"Okay. Don't drown!"

Remy turned back and jumped in their seat when they were meet with two floating slightly glowing eyeshapes.

"Oh- Oh hi- Hey girl. It's just you. Cool. Cool. Awesome"

They heard the water going in the shower but they put on music just to be sure. You repeated the first part of your message in a more hushed tone.

"Me? Girl I'm doing just great! Fantastic! Feeling that jolly chrismis spirit!! Not in pain at a-"

They stopped mid sentence when the medicine and the glass of water appeared on the coffee table. They stared at it for a few seconds, mouth slightly agape, before something like excitement lit up in their eyes. Dangerous excitement. A grin spread on their lips.

"I asked for that like a while back y'know. You must have really listened to me huh" They leant a little closer to you and whispered "Janus would have told me to not take it. They would say it was bad for me. But they don't get me. You get me okay? You understand. Just like Remus....." They hesitated before adding "Let's not tell Janus you got me this stuff please. It can be a friend secret"

They leant back and listened to you. Their eyebrow lifted in surprise when you suggested the massage to help with their pain. They pretended to think about it to be nice.

"Sorry girl. It's like tots nice of you but it just feels like a Viv thing. Like he's always the one who likes warms my wrists and fixes with my back and stuff. It uh feels weird if it's not him. Sorry"

"Babe there's a dead rat in the shower again"

Virgil came back into the room. He'd put on the hoodie his partner had made for him for his birthday, the one with all the patches. When he saw the glowing eyes hovering slightly above the couch he jumped back.

"IS THAT A FUCKING GHOST!? Remy you know how I feel about those fuckers!!"

"Wait- babe- It's a nice-"

Virgil grabbed onto a vacuum cleaner and held it in front of him like a weapon "Oh no bitch! I am sucking that motherfucker up and then I am throwing the vacuum down from a mountai- Are those drugs?"

He pointed a bit dumbfounded at the medicine on the table. "Uh yeah. The ghost got me them"

In an instant Virgil had dropped the vacuum cleaner and sat down in the couch "Aight I can chill with this ghost. But only this one 'cause it's a cool one"

Remy nuzzled against his shoulder and sent him puppy eyes. He pulled them closer so they were snuggled up in his lap with their head against his chest. He pressed a kiss into their hair while moving his hand up and down their back.

"I'm sorry I couldn't like get you any present" They mumbled.

"It's okay. I get why you couldn't. Don't even worry about it. Seeing you happy is enough for me" He replied.

He bit on his nails so the black nailpolish got chipped off. Remy moved their hand onto his wrist to stop him before he got nailpolish in his mouth again.

"Why're you nervous?"

"I'm not"

"Girl you only fuck up your nails when you're all anxy"

"Fine. I'm worrying if you're gonna like the present"

Remy latched their arms around him like a koala "Of course I will!"

Your voice cut in. The second part with the compliments. Remy let up into a small smile. Virgil instead chuckled as he heard it.

"You need some random ghost to tell you this?" He laughed out.

"It's just a very friendly ghost"

"You can just ask me to compliment you if you need it so badly" Virgil jokingly smooched them all over their checks while murmuring "You're so talented Remy so talented"

Their smile turned forced "You don't have to make fun of it"

"What? I'm not making fun of anything! You're just so talented" He had a smug grin on while moving his hands up and down their arm "You know what I mean"

"Tots funny" They rolled their eyes.

"I think it's really funny how that little ghost fucker told you to keep yourself safe. And to reach out to that Janus"

Remy tried to get his hand away from their arm "I'm not-"

"Oh no, I mean it. I thinks it's really funny. I know that it's just your friend misunderstanding things. I know it's nothing you've said. Of course not. I'm not stupid. I know. It's just funny. Just like the part about you not being a chore. Your friend is real hilarious. Comedy genius right here"

He moved his arm around them so they let themself lean closer to him. They looked over to you.

"Maybe you should go. It's uh Christmas after all. Time to be with uhm no offense but your uhm closest loved ones" Remy mumbled out. If they had been alone they would have gladly had your company.

Virgil went back to biting his nail "Kinda nervous about my gift"

"Don't be"

"It's just with the ghost. We got kinda similar gifts so now mine doesn't feel as good"

Remy spun his hoodie string around their finger and fluttered their eyelids "You got me hard stuff?"

"maaaybe"

They put their hand at the back of his head to pull his face closer "I didn't know the guy at work had stuff other than like poppers and weed"

"He doesn't. I had to find someone else"

"Aww babee. Someone else? Just for me?" They grazed their lips against his.

"Yeah and he was a fucking weirdo so you better be grateful. Atrocious sense of fashion I tell you. He looked straight. He maybe even was!"

"Horrible!" Remy gasped.

"Atrocious!" Virgil gasped in the exact same way.

"Repulsive!"

"Soul shattering!"

Remy smiled "Soo whatcha got for me??"

He took out a small plastic bag from his hoodie pocket and waved it around "Ketamine"

"K!? You fucking bastard!!" Remy slapped his shoulder while leaning their head back to cackle. "Augh wanna like get high?"

"It's Christmas. What else would we have done? Knit? Of course we're getting high. Wanna use your ghost drugs? At least the adderal. I think xanax makes you tired so it probs doesn't fit for tonight"

Remy grimaced a little "The ghost told me it can be like bad to mix"

"It'll be fine. Relax a little"

"You're the one who should relax. We should like save the xanax so you can use it as like actual me-"

"We can take that some other time"

Virgil moved them away from his lap. He sat down on the floor close to the coffee table and opened the bag. He let some of the white powder out onto the table and used the back of his phone to straighten it into a line. He reached out his hand and Remy put the package of adderal into his palm. He took out two of the orange pills and crushed them into powder that he mixed into the line.

"Ladies first" Virgil said while motioning for it.

"You sure?"

"You're the ones who's done lsd! And poppers! You should know best"

Remy slumped down on the floor next to him. He looped his arm lightly around their waist as they moved forward and snorted the powder. They leant back against the couch as they squeezed their eyes shut so tightly they saw stars.

"It'll take a bit before I feel anything won't it?" They asked.

"That's how it usually goes"

He held their hand as he also moved forward to snort the powder. He immediately started to cough and shake his head around. He did his best to pretend like it wasn't happening to seem cool.

"You got white all around your nose" Virgil murmured while leaning close to their face, so close they could feel his soft breathe against their cheeks.

"Do I now" They teased back.

"I can kiss it away for you. Wouldn't want it to cover your pretty face after all"

Remy let up into a sly smile "I'd like that"

Virgil pressed his lips against their skin. He let his tongue take up the powder while looking into their eyes. He sat back with his back leant against the coffee table. Their hands were still holding onto each other as they sat in calm silence.

Until Remy suddenly let up into a giggle, in a sharp much higher tone than their usual. The laugh spread to Virgil who broke up into a weirdly wide grin.

They reached out and clumsily moved their fingers all over their boyfriend's face while continuing to giggle. He squinted while reaching out and combing his hand through their hair. It felt like there were entire miles away as he reached out his arm. It felt like the entire room was floating. It felt like electricity was pulsing through his veins.

It felt like he could do Anything.

"This" Remy's eyelids were half closed "This feels good" Their words were all slow and slurred together and yet to Virgil it sounded like they were speaking twice as fast as usual.

"Yeah. Yeah ! it does! I don't. I don't feel anxious or nothing"

Remy got an almost crazed smile on their face as their eyes went wide "Help me up!"

"What?"

"Help me up!!" They waved their arm around.

Virgil stood up and immediately let out a "WOW". He blinked while staring around the room. He was looking like he was about to fall flat on his face if the wind so much as blew on him.

He took their hand and dragged them up on their feet. He kept his hands around their waist in case they fell. The whole room was spinning. Everything was in a star filled daze.

And they didn't feel pain. It was a muffled feeling far far away from them. No weakness in their joints. No lightning shooting up their spine. It felt like they had taken their pain meds!! It actually did!! But even better!! So much better!!

Remy turned to Virgil. They cupped his cheeks and pulled him into a hard kiss. He moved his hands down to the back of their thighs as they jumped up into his embrace.

"Let's go like outside!! I wanna feel the wind I wanna touch plants I wanna snort dirt!" Remy exclaimed.

"Yeah!! great idea! Fantastic!!"

He carried them out into the stairway. They snuggled their face into the spot where his neck and shoulder met and kept slurring out half finished sentences.

The grassy plain in the middle of the apartment complexes were much more lively than usual. Kids were playing on the rusty swingset. People were hugging their guests hello before inviting them in. Snow were still lingering on some patches of grass.

Remy laughed as Virgil let them down on the snow. They grabbed onto the collar of his hoodie and pulled him down alongside them. They started making a snow angel and he couldn't do anything but join in. Even though they weren't wearing anything more than a top and a skirt they didn't feel cold.

They stood up to show off their snow angel. They let out a loud "Ta-da!" right as they lost their sense of footing and fell. Virgil caught them in his arms, in the process messing up his snow angel.

He let them stay sitting in his lap as he grabbed onto their jaw and moved their face closer to his. He pressed kisses all over their faces as they giggled.

"Wanna talk shit 'bout people?" They asked while moving their hands up under his hoodie to warm their hands.

"Would never say no to some shit talking. Some asshole behavior. Some fuckery chattery"

The two of them cuddled even closer to each other while whispering gossip and petty comments about the people around them. About the annoying neighbors and the bench beer drinkers. Virgil took out a pack of cigs and Remy happily let him light one for them as well.

Some random neighbor walked past them and sneered "You're being inappropriate" She muttered.

Virgil was just high enough to hiss in response, while also giving her the middle finger of course. Remy craned their head back and let out a loud very slurred "I was inappropriate with your husband last night!"

She had already walked past them so she didn't even hear and yet they both broke out into a fit of laughing. Virgil laid down with his back against the snow and Remy laid down on top of him with their thighs on either side of his hips.

They chain smoked and made out until it was dark outside. The stars were out. They could both see them clear as day as they glimmered down on the old apartment complex. Most of the people had gone inside to eat Christmas dinner.

"The swings are free" Remy said.

"Seriously? You're trying to suggest that we, two grown adults, would go swinging like two 5 year olds?" Virgil replied "Cause I would love that!"

He got up and took their hand. He moved to carry them but Remy shook their head. They walked fully without a cane over to the swing sets. They vibrated with excitement. They were walking!! And they didn't feel any pain! None at all!!! All they felt was ecstasy!!

"Babe you're crying" Virgil commented.

"What?"

Remy brought their hand up to their cheek and felt tears stream down. They hadn't noticed. They hadn't noticed how their hand was shaking, their fingers twitching, their muscles pulsing in rhythm with their heart.

"It-It's probs just like the wind getting in my eye!" They blurted out "C'mon c'mon I wanna swing!!"

The swingset creaked a little as they sat down on one of them. Virgil jokingly pushed onto their shoulders to give them some speed before sitting down on the swing next to them.

"Those stars look like a jellyfish" Virgil said.

"You look like a jellyfish" Remy replied.

"Wow thanks" Virgil rolled his eyes before bumping his swings into theirs so they spun back and forth.

He lit another cig and shared it with them. They reached out their hand and he took it. Their intertwined hands hung between the two swings as they looked up at the sky.

Virgil started to bite on his nails again, as far as he could. Remy nudged their foot against his ankle to get his attention.

"Girl how the fuck are you able to still be anxious while on K? That's almost like impressive"

He shrugged and forced himself to stop biting "It's nothing"

Remy grabbed onto the metal part of the swing he was sitting on and pulled him closer to bonk their head against his shoulder "Well whatevs it is you don't gotta worry about it tonight, kay babey?"

He squeezed their hand "Expecting me to not worry? Wow babe. I guess I'll try"

"Great snark"

Remy turned to look around at the apartment complex. The stars glimmered in the sky. The clouds were few and far between. It mixed with the warm lights coming from the many windows all around them.

"It is kinda pretty tonight" Remy said. They pressed a kiss to their boyfriend's cheek "Even if you look like a jellyfish"

Virgil put on an overly offended look while turning to them "Oh bitch, now you're getting it"

He lightly pushed at them so they fall backwards onto the ground, their knees still stuck on the swing. He got down beside them and put his elbows on either side of their head before smothering their neck and face with kisses that left them giggly from tickles.

He moved his hands down to their bare thighs. Remy pressed their hands against his chest to push him away as soon as they felt his cold fingertips.

"We're outside" They blurted out.

Virgil leaned back and let up into a laugh, more laughing at them than with them "Babe did you honestly think I was gonna fuck you right here on the ground?"

Remy's cheeks went red from embarrassment “No. I just- you're high- I didn't want my like skirt to like ride up or anything- I didn't want anyone to like see"

"Since when do you care 'bout that" He jokingly put his hand under their skirt like he was gonna pull it up. They flinched and forced his hand away.

They rolled their eyes "Since like always"

"Aw don't roll your eyes at me"

He kissed them right under their eyes while moving his arms behind their back. They moved their legs around his waist and let him pick them up. They hid their face in the crook of his neck as he carried them back to their apartment.

The moment he'd closed the door he kissed them. Their back got pressed against the wall as they parsed their lips. His hands cupped around their thighs to hold them up. He leant in so close their collarbones got pressed together, their chests, their-

Virgil took a few steps back while continuing to make out. He pushed them down to the couch and leant over them. Their fingers played with the threads hanging off his hoodie. He dragged off their crop top and threw it on the floor. 

The kiss turned harder until Virgil accidentally leant too far right and fell off the couch. Remy got dragged down with him. Their foreheads got slammed into each other.

“FUCK”

“SHIT OW”

They looked at each other before slowly letting up into fits of laughter. Virgil was still half chuckling as he cupped their cheeks and brought their lips to his. 

He clumsily pulled their skirt over their head since it was faster than making them stand up. They went soft like water in his hands. He moved his hand to the back of their neck, bent them over the coffee table so they were sat on their knees.

The moment their head got lightly slammed into the table a thick fog spread over Remy’s mind. They enjoyed the kissing part. This part made them dissociate more often than not.

They felt as a fingers interweaved with strands in their hair. Felt as their underwear begun to get pulled down. And then suddenly all the touch was gone.

The sound of Virgil hastily getting up and going, no stumbling, over to the bathroom followed. They heard as he collapsed on the floor and soon enough sounds of puking came. Rough sounds, like he was nearly choking on it.

Remy knew they should go and help him. But as soon as they moved even a finger a far too familiar pain shot up their arm. The pain was still much more far away than usual. It was like an echo. But before it had been nonexistent.

“no. no. no. gotta keep the high. Gotta keep. i can’t feel it. i don’t want to. just go back to the high. go back to the high” They nearly begged to themself.

They stayed there, frozen in fear. Any movement could cause the pain to surface. Any single. They heard as the puking continued. Coughing and slow shaky steps. A tap running. 

“....I’m never taking ketamine ever again” Virgil grumbled as he got back. He was still high, just a bit more clear headed “My mouth feels like an acid bath”

“sorry babe” Remy managed to get out.

Virgil poked their cheek “You just gonna stay there? The mood is kinda uh fucking gone. Kinda desperate ain’t you”

Remy shrunk in on themself “I’m not-”

“DUDE! It’s like fucking 10! Time flies while high huh. Uh Dinner? We can try to. Hopefully we won’t start a Christmas fire. Or hopefully. Would be kinda cool to see”

He went and got them one of their dresses, A purple one he knew they liked, for dinner. He sat down on the ground next to them to help them into it. Even buttoned the back buttons for them. He stroked his thumb over their cheek.

“You good babe? Nauseous at all?”

They shook their head “just like some pain”

“Sucky”

He picked them up and carried them to the kitchen. They’d put one of those office chairs with wheels in there so Remy could more easily move around when doing chores. He gently sat them down on it.

There was just enough rice, leftover chicken and 1 dollar curry mixes for them to make a meal. No veggies. Remy cut up the chicken while Virgil poked at his phone.

A shit eating grin spread on Virgil’s lips “Hey. Hey babe”

Remy looked at him “Yeah?”

His grin got bigger as he clicked the play button on his phone and fall out boy started to blast out. Remy rolled their eyes and faceplanted against the kitchen counter. Virgil shook their shoulders to annoy them.

“Oh c’mon. It’s folie a deux. You like that album. Don’t pretend you don’t”

“Girl I would like it more if you ever played music that wasn’t one of like 10 old emo bands”

While they washed the rice and put it to cook on the stove Virgil kept upping the volume and.....moving...?...along to the music. It certainly wasn’t dancing. It was an emo boy in his natural habitat.

Eventually Remy let themself vibe along. Virgil took their hands in his and spun them along with the chair around. ‘Coffee’s for closers’ came on and for a few minutes they were both 15 again. 

“I WILL NEVER BELIEVE IN ANYTHING AGAIN!!! OH!!!!!! CHANGE WILL COME!!! OHHH!!!!” They both screeched along. 

Honestly they were both already bad singers while sober, being high as hell only made them worse. They spun around, headbanged and screeched for about 20 minutes until the rice was done.

Eventually he carried them out to the dinner table they had in the living room while assuring that he could finish preparing the rest of the meal.

Remy patiently waited as he lit some candles and closed the blinds. Even put on some in his opinion very romantic emo songs. He carried out two plates and pressed a kiss to their forehead as he sat their plate down in front of them.

“Damn bitch” Remy said “You didn’t even burn anything. Maybe we should send you to like masterchef”

They took a bite.

“Bitch!!!! It’s edible too!!! Damn!!”

“Ha. Ha. Very funny”

Virgil finished his meal in a dazed rush. He spent the rest of the time quietly biting his nails and watching as his partner ate. His eyes kept unfocusing from sheer anxiety.

Until Remy finished eating. They relaxed in their seat and sent him a soft smile. They even put their hand on the table, fishing for him put his hand on top of theirs.

“I” Virgil took a deep breathe. He forced his shaking hands down to his lap “So we have been dating for 9 years now-”

“We have!? Wow”

“Yeah. I know. Time has just fled by and uh and I think time has gone so fast ‘cause I’ve been with you! I- I can’t imagine wanting to spend time with anyone but you in this way. You know how much I hate talking to people, especially strangers, but I never felt that with you. Ever since I met you I- Every second I’ve spent without you has felt so much less vibrant. It’s only when I’m with you I- I actually feel whole. Like I’m being the person I was supposed to be. If I could choose to spend the rest of my life together with you I wouldn’t even hesitate to say yes. So”

Virgil stood up and nervously smoothed out his hoodie before going down on one knee. He fished around in his hoodie pocket for what felt like an eternity before he managed to hold up a small box in his shaking hands.

“Remy, Do you want to marry me?”

He nearly stuttered over every word. It was a miracle he got them out at all. The ring wasn’t anything fancy. But he had been saving up for it for months now. Cut corners here and there. Looked up the cheapest type of gem he could find in a color Remy would like. Now he was looking up at them, scanning every inch of their face for a sign. For a blessing. 

And Remy froze completely.

Their hands stopped halfway on their way to cover their slightly agape mouth. Their eyes were stuck staring at the box the ring was in. Even their breathe stopped in shock for a moment. 

Virgil noticed it all. Noticed their wavering breathe and choked back gulps and the twitch of their fingers. He’d planned it all. He’d imagined it during every lull at work. During every night when he couldn’t sleep. How they would start crying in joy and happily jump into his arms and obviously say yes before kissing him all over.

This wasn’t that. This was as far away from that as he could have come. His anxiety spiked. It got so big it filled his entire brain. It couldn’t fit. His heart raced. Until the anxiety changed, stiffened, into anger, into rage, into sheer wrath. 

“Why are you hesitating?” Virgil got out through gritted teeth. 

“I’m- I’m not. babe I-”

Virgil slammed the box shut as he stood up. He banged his hand onto the table as he leant close to them. 

“Why the HELL were you hesitating?”

They shrunk in on themself. Let their shoulders tense inwards. Let their gaze fall down to the floor to avoid having to meet his eyes.

He threw the box right at their face. It hit them over the temple. They flinched and moved their arms over their head to try and protect themself. They fought to hold back a whimper.

“Is it ‘cause of that gross fucking Janus? It is isn’t it! You’ve gone and fallen for that fucker and now you’re just using me to have some fucking place to stay and free food and someone pampering you 24/7! And then you’re just gonna run off with that scumbag when you’ve gotten everything you’ve wanted out of me! Right? RIGHT!?”

He grabbed onto their wrist and clenched his fingers around it so hard their skin turned white. Remy quickly shook their head.

“no. No. I promise babe honey Viv I’m not-”

“WHY THEN!?”

“I just-” Remy hesitated “....the meds-”

“Oh this again!” Virgil let go of them and rolled his eyes. He leant against the table and crossed his arms “Stop being so fucking dramatic about it. I get you need constant attention but at least choose a less annoying way to get it. Do you get how tiring it is to constantly hear you go on about those”

“V-Viv...i haven’t had my meds in over a month...I- I’m barely able to walk”

“You’ve been able to walk just fine today!”

“Yeah only ‘cause I’m high”

“Whatever. I told you I’m getting you the meds soon enough! And I’ve been looking for a new therapist for like weeks now! I promise! You’re the one who’s not trusting me!”

Remy took a deep breathe before replying “Well I- I want my meds. I can’t- I can’t live like this. I can’t imagine a future if I’m constantly in pain”

Virgil got a sly grin on his lips as he leant close to them. He lifted their chin to look up at him “How ‘bout this babe. I’ll buy you the meds if you sleep with me every time you need a pill”

It felt like a bucket of ice water got poured down their throat. They felt sick of shame for considering agreeing, just then he leant his head back and laughed.

“Just kidding. You should have seen your face!” He laughed out “You didn’t think I was serious did you”

The urge to shout back at him built up inside of Remy but they forced it down “...that’s not funny”

“Oh c’mon now. It was just a joke” 

He smiled as he nuzzled his nose against their forehead like it would make them feel better. They wanted to tell him to back off. But the words died in their throat. They were so afraid. If hesitating made him burst out into anger what would saying no do.

But if they didn’t say anything it would be their fault for not saying no. They had to do something. They had to. A weird noise left their lips. Neither a yes or a no. Just a noise but he didn’t hear. He moved to kiss them and they couldn’t speak. All the anger bubbled up inside them. Their body moved on their own.

They raised their fists and slammed them down into the table. Over and over. Pain shot up through their wrists but they couldn’t stop themself. 

Virgil moved back and looked at them “The hell are you doing?”

Their lips was shut tightly together. Their eyes watered and they felt fucking pathetic for not being able to hold them back.

“Wow you really do lose it every time your meds are brought up huh” Virgil laughed.

“IT’S NOT FUCKING FUNNY!” Remy yelled back.

He chuckled back at them “Really Really lose it. Very extra”

They slammed their fists down into the table even if their wrists were screaming from pain “IT’S NOT FUNNY! IT’S NOT! STOP LAUGHING AT ME!”

“It’s very mature of you to freak out like this. Very mature of you” He proceeded to call them by their deadname.

Remy got that ice cold feeling again. Their eyes went wide “DON’T CALL ME THAT!”

“What? You’re acting like a child. I’m gonna call you like you’re a child”

“DON’T!”

“You’re the one screaming and making this a bigger fuzz than it needs to be”

Remy’s whole body was shaking from anger “DON’T! DON’T! DON’T! YOU MAKE ME FEEL FUCKING INSANE! YOU’VE FORCED ME OFF MY MEDS! YOU KNOW I NEED THEM TO LIVE! YOU WERE THERE WHEN I FIRST STARTED TO GET CHRONIC PAIN! YOU SHOULD UNDERSTAND! I THOUGHT YOU WOULD ALWAYS UNDERSTAND!”

“Babe please-”

“DO YOU EVEN CARE HOW MUCH PAIN I’M IN!!! DO YOU EVEN CARE ABOUT ME ANYMORE??! YOU SHOULDN’T BE GETTING STUPIDLY MAD ABOUT ME NOT SAYING YES TO A MARRIAGE YOU HAVE NEVER FUCKING DISCUSSED WITH ME EVER BEFORE!! YOU SHOULD BE HAPPY I HAVEN’T JUMPED OFF THE BALCONY YET!!”

Their hands shook as they opened their mouth and screamed. And screamed. And screamed. Pure horror filled screaming. It was the sounds of a thread snapping dragged out for far longer than it should.

Virgil started to nervously glance around “Uh babe- Remy- The uh the neighbors. Remy please stop screaming. Someone will hear. Please we can cuddle on the couch. I can make you hot chocolate. I can massage your wrists”

They just kept screaming.

“Seriously you need to quiet down. It’s Christmas. Someone’s gonna start wondering what’s happening. You don’t want that do you? C’mon please calm down. I’m sorry for using that name. I know it was stupid. You were making me too anxious to think. Please just quiet down”

The screaming didn’t stop. It was endless.

Virgil gritted his teeth “You seriously need to shut up now”

They didn’t. 

“This isn’t a joke anymore. Remy you’re gonna get us in trouble just so you could get some attention”

They couldn’t stop.

“I thought you didn’t want to be a burden! Guess what you’re being right now!? You gotta shut up!”

The screaming continued.

“SHUT UP!”

The screaming continued.

“REMY SHUT UP!”

The screaming continued.

Virgil moved his hands around their throat. The sound got cut off within an instant. Like a choked out candle. He lifted them by their neck and slammed them back down into the table.

His grip tightened as they looked up at him with fear in their eyes. They put their hands on top of his and moved their mouth to silently plead for him to let go. He pressed even harder.

Their skin turned red, their eyes as well. Until their skin began to go pale instead. Their limbs turned weak and then numb. Their hands fell away from his. They tried to keep eye contact with him but their sight went blurry. Spots of dark started to take over.

“Now you’re quiet alright. You better not scream at me like that ever again” 

He lifted their head from the table just to slam it back down.

“Alright!?”

Remy was barely able to hear him through the ringing in their ears. They managed to nod.

“Good”

He let go of his grip. Remy gasped for breathe, but they barely got a second to recover as he pressed his lips against theirs.

They wanted to push him away but they were too weak from being strangled to even lift a finger. He parsed their lips and forced his tongue in. He was practically leaning over them with one of his hands squarely put on their shoulder. They weakly shook their head but he didn’t seem to notice.

It felt like they were going to throw. Everything got fuzzy with shame. It was their fault for nodding. He must have taken it wrong. They were always so easy he must have assumed they would be okay with-

Someone knocked on the door.

Virgil stopped kissing them and moved back. His shoulders got tense. Remy curdled in on themself while he went to open. The shoulder straps on their dress had fallen down and the skirt had ridden up. They knew how it would look to whoever had knocked. They wanted to hide but they could barely move.

They looked as Virgil opened the door, just a little. So a small stream of light came through. They thought they saw their neighbor. A nice lady who sometimes gave them left over cookies and ice packs for their pain.

“Is everything okay in here? I thought I heard screams” She said.

“Oh yeah. Yeah totally. Sorry if we like disturbed you. We just” Virgil leant a little closer to her and nearly whispered “You know how my dearie has physical problems? Well uh being in pain for that long does things to the mind. They were just having an....episode...that’s all”

“That sounds awful”

“Yeah” He forced forward a fake tear “Yeah it’s really hard to see them like this”

“Are they feeling any better? Can I help?”

“I got it under control don’t worry. I’ll just- I’ll just give them some of their meds. Yeah. I’ll go do that. It should be fine”

The shame was making Remy nauseous. Sick to their stomach. They got the urge to claw their way out of their body. They knew they could yell for her to help. Knew they could try to leave with her. Knew they could do Something! Anything at all.

But they didn’t. Even when the lady peeked over Virgil’s shoulder to wave at them they forced a smile and waved back. It was all their fault. Anything that happened was all their fault for not leaving when they could.

Virgil closed the door again and listened to her footsteps to make sure she really left. He turned back to them and rolled his eyes.

He leant against the table and lightly moved his hand across their reddening neck. Remy held their breathe and stayed still. He pressed a quick kiss to their neck, bile rose in their throat.

“Babe I’m sorry. I’d been so anxious about the proposal for like weeks now, I just got so emotional when it didn’t go as planned” He said “I’m still a bit pissed off so I think I’m gonna take a cig kay? Get some fresh air, get some frustration out. And then we can cuddle kay? We don’t gotta talk ‘bout this again. I can just try proposing some other time when it feels more right kay?”

Remy didn’t reply. Virgil kissed them again before going to leave.

As he walked the rage started to boil under Remy’s skin again. He always did this. Always brushed what he’d done under the rug. Always left for a cig or cuddled them or fucked them before pretending like what had happened right before didn’t matter. How could it matter? It only hurt them after all.

“You can’t ignore what you just did to me” Remy said. It started as a whisper but their voice grew “I won’t let you. We gotta like talk this out as adults”

“I said sorry didn’t I. I won’t do it again”

“You always say that! How can I trust that!?”

Virgil let out a huff of air and kept walking to leave. Remy grabbed their cane and got to their feet. They took slow shaky steps after him.

“You can’t just like walk away! You’re not leaving until we’ve talked this out!”

Virgil suddenly stopped in his step. Remy nearly caught up.

“Viv please let us just talk this out. I want us to go back to normal. I want us to work! I want this to work! I love you! Everything can go back to normal if we just talk it out and you give me my m-”

He turned around and grabbed their cane in one swift motion. He dragged the cane away from them and they fell. 

They fell harshly down onto the ground. Hands and knees taking the worst damage. Their already bruised wrists aching even more. 

Remy looked up at him just in time to see him raising the cane over his head. He hit the tip of the cane right over their face.

He had hit them. 

He had hit them.

Remy stared with wide eyes into the floor. Their cheek ached, their lips, their teeth. They blinked. It couldn’t be real. It wasn’t real. Nothing in the room was real. If they kept their eyes to the floor it was like he wasn’t there. Like it hadn’t happened.

A drop of blood fell onto the floor. Turning the brown wood red. Several droplets followed. Remy moved their shaking hand up to their mouth and felt a wound. Their fingertips turned red.

They looked up at him and it was real. And for a moment he looked just like their father.

Remy dragged themself to their feet. Pure adrenalin was keeping them upright. They were forcing their legs to move forward. To limp over the small pool of blood that had built on the floor.

“Oh wow so now you’re the one leaving” Virgil snarled while throwing the cane aside “Weren’t you just going on about how I shouldn’t leave”

They tried to ignore him. All they focused on was moving one leg in front of the other.

“You- you’re not actually leaving are you? Remy? Babey?”

They kept walking. Blood was still running down their chin.

Virgil panicked. He jumped forward and put his hands on their shoulders to stop them. He pushed them up against the wall so harshly that their feet nearly lifted from the ground.

“You won’t have anywhere to stay if you leave right now! You have no money! No friends! Nothing! You can’t just leave!” He yelled right into their face.

Remy stared right through him “you hit me” They mumbled out.

“NO ONE IS EVER GOING TO LOVE YOU EVER AGAIN IF YOU LEAVE! You’re so fucking unloveable your daddy decided to beat you all your childhood! You’re so unloveable your mom left before you could even talk!”

“you hit me”

“Do you seriously think Janus is gonna let you stay with him!? Is that your plan? Huh? HUH? ‘Cause he won’t! I can promise you that! He’s gonna feel some pity for you at first and then he’s gonna see what an annoying self serving overly emotional mess of a burden you are! Once he’s had his way with you and your body stops being exciting to him he’ll throw you out! ‘Cause your personality certainly isn’t the reason he’s into you!”

“you hit me”

“No one will want you for long! They’ll all leave you eventually! You’ll be forced to live on the street and you’ll probs die of an overdose before you’re 24! Or you’ll get murdered while selling yourself! I’m the only one who honestly cares about you! The only one! This is the best you will ever get! I’ve given you everything without question! I’ve taken care of you for YEARS! And you want to just leave like that!?”

“you hit me”

“Actually! I doubt that many people will want you AT ALL! You’re looking like a skeletal sick mess nowadays! No ones gonna want someone who can’t walk! Who can’t get out of the fucking shower on their own! You’re stupid! You’re worthless! You’re incapable of ever surviving on your own! If it weren’t for me you would have died ‘cause of your daddy! You need me! You can’t live without me!”

“You. Hit. Me”

Remy tried to strain against his grip. Virgil’s breathe caught in his throat. Tears brimmed at the eyes of his eyes. 

“REMY IF YOU LEAVE I- I’M GOING TO KILL MYSELF!” Virgil lied.

All the anger seemed to disappear from Remy’s body in an instant. They could still feel the pain in their cheek, their lip, their neck. But they couldn’t let him die. They loved him.

“it....it was my fault...i’m sorry” Remy mumbled out “i won’t leave...please don’t....please never hurt yourself”

They were crying as they sunk down to the floor. Their whole body went numb. They were pretty sure Virgil was saying something but they couldn’t hear.

He picked them up and carried them to the bedroom before setting them down on the bed. They watched as he took out a first aid kit and kissed their already bruising cheek. 

“I love you so much dear” He said. 

He kept showering them in compliments while taking out creme to help with the bruises and bandages to cover them up. They assumed they were supposed to make them happy but they just felt like static.

Virgil moved to put the creme on their neck and they flinched. Flinched back violently. Their eyes widened and their legs tensed, ready to run away.

He grimaced “Why are you flinching from me?” He asked, knowing the answer.

“n-nothing” Remy forced out. 

“Why THE HELL are you flinching from!?”

He slapped them. A backhanded one right over their cheek. 

A rush of power went through his heart as Remy fell to their side and curdled up against the bedsheets. They closed their eyes and held onto the blanket like it was a lifeline, but they didn’t try to fight back. Didn’t try to run. Didn’t try to speak. They couldn’t let him die.

He hadn’t even been offended at them flinching he’d just wanted to see if they would run. He’d just wanted to feel that wonderful power again.

Remy parsed their lips, stained with dried blood “...were there...were...could i get one of the xanases? or two...please?....” They wanted to get away. Somehow. Even if it was just mentally.

“Of course honey. I’ll go get you some after finishing the first aid” He leant down and kissed them “I love you”

“Love you too”

[world-of-socks]

First chapter of the fanfiction I mentioned I’d do! Hope you enjoy

Chapter One: General Boredom

“General! General!” The gem called after the diamond who was briskly walking ahead, “What should I tell the troops? What is our next step?”

Yellow Diamond spun around, “Evacuate all soldier class gems and send for colonizers. We harvest at once! How do you not know this by now?! We’ve done this hundreds of times, Lieutenant!”

The Lieutenant shrunk, but still held a certain amount of pride about themselves, “Well, my diamond, it’s really been more like thousands of times…”

“I know that!” she bristled.

Yellow quickly realized that she was becoming too flustered in front of her subjects, and she carefully fixed her hair which had fallen in odd shapes over her face in the outburst. The air smelled of iron, when the smell hit her, she realized that her outburst had been too great.

“… I know that.” Her tone was a forced calm, “Just send the order.”

“And… where will you be, my diamond?”

“In my ship… flying home- I mean to homeworld. Oh forget it…”

The lieutenant looked on, tired and despondent. It had been a long couple years, their diamond had been an ornery general since her emergence, but lately she had gotten worse. The gem sighed and made the dreaded diamond line call to their diamond’s leader to report on her behavior.

………

Yellow sat in her ship, leaning so far back on her throne she was practically on the floor. She had been working on filing reports about her latest planet when she decided that she was done. The work was so boring and felt so menial.

“I mean, what’s even the point!” She groaned to herself, throwing her arms up in frustration, “It’s the same crap over and over… every planet is the same as the ne-!”

“Ah! Pearl!” Yellow hit her head on her way back up to her throne, “I-I didn’t see you there I promise I will get back to work in a minute I-!”

In her struggle to get back to looking professional, she hadn’t actually seen who had been calling. She was so used to Pearl calling her to keep her on track, that she hadn’t actually looked up to see who had really been on the diamond line.

“White?! Uh, My diamond!” She saluted frantically, “I just left my latest assignment and they are already beginning the colonization process. I am currently on my way back to- to homeworld so that I may begin my next assignment. I-…”

White stopped her by holding up a hand, “Enough.”

“Yes, my diamond.” She murmured, eyes lowered.

“I see that you have been not only exceedingly and unnecessarily rude to your assistants, but also unfocused and unmotivated.”

“I promise I’ll do better, my diamond! I-…”

The head diamond continued to not let Yellow speak in full, “Whatever could be the matter, my Sunlight?”

The diamond looked down at her boots ashamedly, there was no use hiding now; the jig was up.

“I just… it’s not that I don’t love my work… I’ve just found it very unrewarding lately. Every battle is harder than the next, yet I don’t feel like I’m actually gaining anything when I win…”

White gasped, Yellow flinched, “My Sunlight, this is near traitorous talk!”

“I swear it’s not, White!”

“Do you not know why we do all this? Why we must spread our empire?”

“Of course I do!”

“Then why does gaining another planet for our beautiful new universe feel so unrewarding to you?! Is my praise not enough?”

The young diamond was digging herself a hole, yet the one with the shovel was the eldest.

“It is, it is!”

“Then what's the problem, Sunlight?” White’s voice was calm, every time she spoke one could barely read what emotion was actually behind it.

“… Well, each planet seems unexciting. I haven’t come across a planet that has felt like it was… worth adding to our empire… sure they have plenty of good resources, but each is more boring then the last. Dull minerals as far as the eye can see, harsh winds that carry said minerals, and the pathetic organic life. The only challenge is provided in figuring out how to beat them, and once we figure it out, we win. Sure the research is hard, but as soon as it's done, the challenge is over and… we win.”

“So you’re saying you aren’t feeling challenged enough, Sunlight?”

“Yes! -I…I think,..my diamond.” She shot up, banging her head again.

“I see. Well, when you arrive back on homeworld I will provide you with such a challenge.”

“Thank- thank you, my diamond!” Yellow stuttered, dumbfounded.

“Keep in mind that not every planet will be a challenge and you need to get used to any tasks you may find tedious. It is all for the betterment of this universe.”

“I know.” She sighed, “I promise to be better.”

“I know.” The diamond replied, “I will call for you when you arrive.”

“Understood.” Yellow bowed, sensing the end of the call.

White nodded and the click of the diamond line disappearing signaled for the diamond’s head to pop back up. She was shaking, but she wasn’t sure how much of it was from fear or excitement.

A little paranoid voice in Yellow’s head told her that White was still watching, so she shakily opened up her reports and sifted through screens to be certain that she was not. When she had successfully satisfied the voice, she called up her pearl to inform her of the news.

“Yes, my diamond?” Came the high, nasally voice.

“Pearl, are you alone?”

Pearl faltered, thrown off by the tone of her diamond’s voice, “Yyyes. Yes I am. Why ever would that matter?”

“Oh good!” Yellow blew out a breath, “I have important news to tell you!”

Not reading into the tone that her diamond had taken on, Pearl had started concernedly, “Did- did you shatter another one of your advisors? I’m sure we could get another replacement before White notices but-…”

“No, no.” Yellow corrected, “White is giving me a specific mission! A challenge! She informed me that she would ‘call for me when I arrive’!”

“That’s- wonderful, my diamond!” Pearl smiled awkwardly, “I’m happy to hear it.”

“Maybe- maybe this planet will actually be different! Oh dear, I hope so!” Yellow was beaming so brightly, her form nearly glowed.

This didn’t last long, however, because the young general quickly realized that she had perhaps been beaming too brightly; this was not proper for diamonds.

“I will arrive on homeworld soon. Be ready to assist me.”

“It is my duty, my diamond.” The Pearl saluted and bowed.

Click.

Pearl was gone, and Yellow was left to go back to her tedious task, which in the promise of better work, she found less tedious.

………..

With a hiss and a steady bang, the arm ship had landed on the pad, and a far too excited diamond stumbled out. There were a few cheers from the working gems who inhabited homeworld, which signaled her to walk with pride rather than anxious anticipation.

When she arrived in her room, which she actually went to first this time to ensure that she would be on White’s good side when she summoned her. She sat in her hover chair, which spun under her weight. Her golden screens popped up on her path to her desk, there was an abnormal amount; Yellow had been avoiding them.

Before she could start finally filing those reports she heard a soft giggle coming from somewhere she couldn’t quite identify.

“Hello?” She called, “Pearl…?”

She didn’t really think it was Pearl, but the sound was barely audible and hard to identify. The young diamond walked to the door and it hissed open a t her command, and there stood…

“Blue!” Yellow hissed, lowering her voice, “You aren’t supposed to be here!”

“Hah!” She protested, scurrying in, “Since when has that stopped either of us, before, huh?”

“Bluuuue.” She whined, pushing her hair out of her face and double checking to make sure no gem was watching.

The young, bouncy blue gem hopped into Yellow’s seat and watched it spin from her weight, giggling.

“How was your last mission?” Blue asked, ignoring Yellow’s pleas for her to leave.

“Fine. Boring, but fine.” Yellow accepted that her companion would not be swayed to leave.

“I have some … exciting news, though.” Yellow stretched.

Blue turned around eagerly, “Ooooh, what?”

“White is going to summon me soon to give me a more ‘challenging’ planet. Some awesome place I think!” She spread her arms apart on the word ‘awesome’, then brought them back in and pointed to her blue friend, “So, you can’t get me in trouble. I need to be on her good side.”

Blue stopped spinning, a frown on her face, “But you just got home.”

“I know.” She blushed, looking away.

“You’ve been gone for like a year or two now. I was so bored, this place is no fun without you here.”

“You had your own mission, though!”

“Yeah, one that had me busy in my own room for months on end. Usually I go off-planet, but I had to stay here and study and work and file reports.. Yellooooow I’ve been sooo bored.” She whined.

“Well, me too.” Yellow frowned, “And that’s why I’m excited for a new more challenging mission.”

“I guess that sounds rather fun,” Blue pouted, happy for her friend nonetheless, “Hey! You think I could convince White to give me something a bit more challenging?”

“Hmmm… maybe?”

“Well, we might as well have some fun while you’re still here.” Blue grinned mischievously, “Wanna prank the pearls?”

Yellow thought it over in her head, the pros and the cons. If they were caught she could say goodbye to a fun mission, if they weren’t she could get everything she wanted.

Her eyes sparkled, “Where at?”

“Side hallway, they meet there around this time. I’m thinking we walk ‘like a diamond must’,” Blue mimicked White, making yellow snicker and went on, “and very sneakily drop a stink pod into their meeting room.”

“Won’t the smell linger with them? I have a meeting soon, Blue!”

“Yes, yes I know. The smell would only stay in the room, I promise.”

“Promise?”

Blue held out her hand for Yellow to take, “Trust me, I’m not gonna ruin this for you.”

Yellow took it, “Fine. It’s a deal.”

Blue smirked up at her.

…………

[mbcorvo-author]

I started this a few days ago but I cannot think of some plot to put behind it to continue this thing... so I guess that it'll remain a simple 2k words drabble lol

I don't even have a title for this! The file was named "guywhotalkedtotimetraveller" so I guess that it'll be the title for the time being?

Inspired by this prompt by @writing-prompt-s

(also I hope it's understandable enough, I'm trying to write directly in English instead of translating every time but English is not my language;;)

The guy who talked to the time traveller

"I'll be what now?" Thomas said, a puzzled expression on his face, staring at the man standing at the entrance of his cubicle. The man that looked like an FBI agent out from some spy movie huffed and rolled his eyes. "You'll be interrogating someone for us." "A-and why me?" Thomas asked "I... I'm just a mere pencil-pusher here, I'm not... like... okay, I'm a Government employee but- but I do not work for that- that kind of... department," he stuttered, nervous under the glare of the stranger, fixing the glasses on his nose. "I... I- you maybe... dunno got sent to the wrong building, maybe?" The FBI-like man moved a step inside the cubicle, staring down at the bumbling clerk sitting on an old desk wheelie desk chair. That guy was trying hard to not appear intimidated by him. And failing at that. He shoved the manila folder in the clerk's chest that jumped at the sudden movement and clumsily grabbed the folder with all the files inside it. "Then this is a promotion for you, congrats." he said in a flat tone "Now get up and follow me."

Thomas opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again, but he still didn't have the words, so he closed it again and got up from his chair, clutching the manila folder to his chest with his right hand The man in a dark suit huffed something under his breath, then stepped out from the office cubicle, followed by the nervous employee. He started walking down the large room towards the corridor that leads to the elevators.

They walked in silence, Thomas nervously stealing glances at the man escorting him. Only once closed in the elevators, the employee finally gathered enough courage to speak up. "Uh, so-" he started "From... you..." he mumbled, "You look like an FBI guy..." "I'm not." "Then...uh...what...? Who are you?" "Agent Bancroft, from the Bureau for Research and Assessment of Special Threats" "Oh." the employee fell in a silence that lasted for a long couple of minutes before he spoke again, "And what's that? Never heard of it." he asked, "Sounds like something coming out from... from dunno a- a comic book. Like the Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defence from Hellboy... or- or also the SHIELD from Marvel comics. Or!" he lifted his free hand "The Men in Black!"

The man pinched the root of his nose and took a deep breath. The higher-ups couldn't have possibly found someone more pathetic than this pencil-pusher even if they tried hard for aeons. He understood that they wanted someone low-profile, not important and easily replaceable, but this guy was too clueless and... well, surely didn't look like he was the right person for the assignment they wanted to entrust to him. "Yeah," Bancroft said after that long pause "Let's say something like that." "That sounds pretty cool," a weak smile on Thomas' face, "I'm Thomas Bohnam, a low-level employee in the..." he stopped, "Oh, wait, you already know. Haha-" a short dry laugh, while he ran his free hand on the back of his neck.

The elevator finally dinged their stop at the ground floor, and Agent Bancroft exited as soon as the doors opened, followed suit by the clerk clutching the manila folder. They walked through the building hall and left it, the agent walking towards the nearby parking lot. "So uh- where... where are we going now?" "You'll see when we'll be there." he stopped near a black SUV with tinted windows and opened one of the back doors. "And... and why do I have to interrogate someone for your Bureau?" Thomas asked, getting in the car followed by Bancroft that proceeded in closing the door. "Orders," he stated. He gave a quick nod to the agent in the driver's seat, who promptly started the engine and drove out of the parking lot, taking the road leading to their destination. "So... are we going to be... like... dunno, sort of colleagues?" "Probably" "And who I-" "I gave you some of the files." Bancroft interrupted him, pointing at the manila folder, "Up to you if you want to read them now or when we'll be there." "Ah." he completely forgot about that folder, even if he held it in his right hand all the time.

----

The drive to where they were supposed to be - probably the Bureau headquarters, guessed Thomas - was at the same time long, but not that long. Maybe some strategic tactic to confuse outsiders and keep the exact location unknown? That would also explain why the tinted windows in the back seats didn't let you see anything going on outside and why they lifted a similarly tinted screen to separate them from the driver. Thomas was not supposed to know where they were going.

When they stopped and left the car, they were inside what - to the clerk's eyes - appeared to be a plain empty hangar. Agent Bancroft and agent Leavitt - the one that was behind the wheel - started walking towards one of the ends of the hangar, while Thomas was looking around trying to figure out where he was.

"C'mon! We don't have all day, buddy." exclaimed agent Leavitt, their nasal voice echoed in the empty building. Thomas jumped, clutched the folder to his chest and started walking, picking up the pace to reach the two agents that - meanwhile - stopped in front of what looked like a reinforced door with a keypad and another panel probably for some type of biometric scan, Thomas imagined.

Thomas nervously fixed his glasses on the nose and lowered the gaze onto his battered black Oxford-style shoes. His anxiety was starting to rise again. The agents called for his attention again and ushered him inside what to the simple employee's eyes looked like another elevator with really high security. And that started going down. "So... uh- underground?" Thomas commented, breaking the silence and trying to distract himself, "Th- that's cool. It's kinda... like the bureau in Hellboy and... and the MiB headquarters," A glare from agent Leavitt shut Thomas up. He shuffled a bit, fixing his wrinkled white button-down inside his black pants, then his grey tie around the neck. Thomas still had his little badge pinned on the chest pocket. He wondered if to keep it or remove it, but the elevator reached the floor of their destination, and the clerk's attention was back on the two agents leading the way in a large and anonymous corridor.

He clutched again the folder to his chest while following the two agents leading the way in that underground floor with corridors too similar to each other. “Bancroft, Leavitt!” called a voice unknown to Thomas, who lifted his eyes back up to look in the voice’s direction. The owner of the voice was a man in his fifties (or so Thomas assumed), with salt and pepper hair and a serious expression on his square-ish face, that was walking towards the three of them. “Boss” replied Leavitt, halting their walk followed by Bancroft. “Finally you’re back, why did you take so much time?” the man asked, stopping a few steps from the trio. “Bohnam here was a bit… skittish about being assigned a task outside his field of work” replied Leavitt, moving a hand to gesture at the nervous clerk between them and Bancroft. “But I was able to convince him, in the end.” added Bancroft “As you can see, boss”. “Ah, good, good.” nodded their boss, eyes then moving onto Thomas, “I’m Gibson, Head of this section of the Bureau.” he quickly introduced himself “I’d explain you some more things, but we don’t want to get too behind schedule,” and saying that he turned around and started walking, followed by Leavitt and Bancroft and - a beat later - by Thomas.

“I need you to lead this interrogation with the suspected time traveller we are keeping into custody and-” “A what?” exclaimed Thomas, not realizing of having interrupted the higher-up. “...A time traveller. Did you read the files, did you?” he asked, turning his head a little to glance at the clerk. “Uhhh… well, actually… I barely remember what I read because I had a panic attack and words started to not make any sense.” Thomas confessed, lowering his gaze. Gibson sighed, rolling his eyes. “Whatever. You’ll have time to check everything while you're interrogating him.” and on these last words, he stopped near a plain black door on the right of the corridor. On it, there was only a little label with ‘2-C’ written on it. “We’ll be in the adjacent room, listening and monitoring the interrogation.” added Bancroft, before following Leavitt and Gibson through another door.

“Oh, shit” Thomas exhaled. His anxiety was starting to rise up again, but he tried to put on his best work persona and at least appear calm. He removed his nametag and shoved it inside his breast pocket while picking from it his cheap ballpoint pen with the chewed bottom. A big breath and then he entered the interrogation room.

The room was plain: grey walls, a supposedly two-way mirror on one of the walls, a metal table that was screwed to the floor, two simple chairs and on one of them - on the side opposite to the door - there was the time traveller. For Thomas’ eyes, the time traveller looked like any other normal dude… probably on the side of having a bad taste in clothing. Or maybe it was himself the one with bad taste, but surely the man in front of him looked like he did not know how to match colours… but, also, he didn’t understand a single thing of fashion so-

“Finally someone showed up!” grunted the alleged time-traveller, stopping the random train of thoughts that was running free in Thomas’ mind. “Ah- ehm-” Thomas cleared his voice “Yes. Hello.” he said, walking towards the table and sitting on the free chair. He put the manila folder and the chewed pen on the table, nervously fixed his glasses on his nose before starting to speak again “I was appointed to conduct this interrogation. Or you could see it more like an interview if it makes you feel more at ease.” a weak smile on his lips. “Name’s Thomas Bohnam and you’re” he lowered his gaze and opened the manila folder “Stardust… uh- how is your last name pronounced? Anyway, from what I see you’re a time traveller? That sounds very interesting, I’d honestly never thought that time-travel could be possible and-”

Thomas lifted his gaze back on the time traveller, finding him frozen and staring at him wide-eyed. It looked like Stardust also paled a little. “Something is wrong…?”

“W-what… What did you say? Y-your name, what did you say it is?” stammered the time traveller. “Thomas Bohnam, why?” he repeated, a brow lifted and tilting his head on one side, confused by the weird reaction from the other guy. Thomas jumped a little when Stardust slammed his hands on the table, swearing and then quickly standing up making his chair fall on the floor.

“Fuck! Fuck!” the time traveller repeated, running his hands on his face and hair, walking back and forth on his side of the room. “Fuck! Of all the people I could accidentally meet while in this Era, I had to find Thomas fucking Bohnam!” Thomas was shocked by the reaction of the time traveller that was freaking out after discovering who he was. But why? Why this strong reaction? He looked in the two-way mirror, hoping to see some kind of signal but obviously, he could only see the reflection of what was happening in the room.

“Ahem” he cleared his throat again, trying to get the time-traveller’s attention “Why… what…” he stammered before shutting up for a moment, trying to find the right words to say. “What is the problem? We’ve met in the future? Or maybe you’re confusing me with someone with the same name? Homonymy is not that rare…” “The problem?! The problem?!” the time traveller exclaimed, turning towards Thomas. “The problem is that you-” then he cut himself off and swore again. “Can’t talk. How the hell am I supposed to know what could cause a goddamn paradox? I can’t say jack shit.” he huffed, lifting the chair from the ground and returning to sit on it. “God. Can’t wait to tell the others I’ve been in the same room as that motherfucker.” he muttered, crossing his arms.

[let-the-dream-begin]

In My Daughter’s Eyes Chapter 6: End of the Rope

Chapter 5

Read on AO3

Claire was supposed to be looking at charts on the computer in front of her, and she would, of course, right after she finished checking her phone for any messages from Mrs. Lickett.

“Beauchamp!”

Fuck.

“That’s the third time I’ve caught you on your phone. You trying to get fired on your first day?” 

Her supervisor, Doctor Moore, was the most Nurse Ratched type Claire had ever seen in real life: tyrannical and unforgiving. The only difference was the grating nasality of her thick Long Island accent. Claire opened her mouth to defend herself, for the third time, but Ratched cut her off.

“Plenty of other doctors have kids at home, Doctor Beauchamp. Do you see any of the rest of them with their heads buried in their phones like teenagers?”

Claire could feel the tips of her ears growing hot with rage, but she swallowed it down and answered as levelly as possible: “No, Doctor Moore.”

“Get going. Your team is waiting for you.”

Claire exhaled heavily as soon as the tight-faced woman bustled out of the room, clenching her teeth to avoid outwardly groaning.

“The Ratched already on your nerves?”

Claire practically jumped out of her skin. She turned in the swiveling chair to see a kind-faced black man about her age, perhaps a bit older, smiling at her. He was sitting at a computer as well, craning his neck around to look at her. His eyes were dark, but soft.

“Did you read my bloody mind?” Claire stammered, still slightly alarmed.

He gave a short, barking laugh. “Seems I did. Everyone calls her that. Not to her face, mind you.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.” Claire’s eyes widened at the thought of doing so.

“I’m Joe, Joe Abernathy.” He stood and crossed the room to shake her hand.

“Claire Beauchamp,” Claire returned, taking his hand.

He chuckled as he returned his hand to his side.

“What?” Claire said, face scrunching in suspicion.

“Just thinking about you asking if I read your bloody mind,” he said, flashing his teeth in a wide grin. “I heard you were English, but to hear it is another thing.”

Claire rolled her eyes, though she couldn't suppress her own smile as she turned back to the computer to complete her given task.

“Kids at home, huh?” His tone was sympathetic, having heard Doctor Moore’s reaming out of Claire.

“Just one,” Claire said. “I’m quite aware there are other parents here,” she continued hotly, though her anger was not directed at the man standing before her. “But I’d like to know how many of them are single parents of a daughter with special needs.”

Joe nodded in quiet understanding. “That must be tough, leaving her all day.”

Claire nodded, fighting the urge to check her phone again. “I’ve never left her alone with a babysitter this long. When I was in school I was still married, so she wasn’t ever alone for too long even though her father was a professor. After the move and the new schedules…I’m just worried.” All the while, Claire kept her eyes on the screen, scanning over charts and making mental notes. “The woman’s a marvel; I wouldn’t have hired her if she wasn’t. I just can’t help it. She’s nonverbal, my daughter. Autism.”

“Ah.” Joe nodded. “Gotcha.”

“So I just keep waiting for a call that she’s having a meltdown and that even the all-knowing, licensed professional can’t calm her down because she can’t tell her what’s wrong.” Claire shook her head, sighing. “It’s silly, I know.”

“Nah, not at all.” Joe shrugged, keeping his tone casual, but his eyes still shone with sympathy.

“Christ, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to unload my whole life story on you.”

“Don’t worry about it. I get it. I’ve never personally known anyone with autism, but you see it come in and out of the hospital often enough. It’s scary as hell when there’s something wrong and they can’t tell you, even the verbal ones sometimes.”

“Right.”

“I didn’t mean to make you worry more,” he said quickly. “I’m sure everything is just fine. All I’m saying is I get why you’re worried. And Ratched sure as hell doesn’t. I’d like to tell her to kiss my ass.”

Claire chuckled through her nose, taking note of one more thing on the computer before turning to smile up at him.

“Thanks, Doctor Abernathy.”

“Please, none of that in private.” He waved her off. “Just Joe when there are no patients.”

“Alright, then.” Claire logged off the computer and gathered her things. “Thanks, Joe.”

“No problem. Good luck out there, Lady Jane.”

She paused in the doorway. “What was that?”

He grinned. “One of the other residents called you that. Said your accent sounds like you just had tea with the queen.” He held up his hands, pantomiming holding a teacup and saucer, sticking his pinky out.

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ.” Claire laughed, rolling her eyes as she wrenched the door open.

“Toodle-pip, my lady!” She heard him call behind her.

Christ, was she doomed to have nicknames thrown at her reminding her of her Englishness for all eternity?

Her heart warmed at the thought of that soft Scottish burr saying Sassenach, and more laughter bubbled in her chest at the thought of her newest title.

She supposed she didn’t mind.

——

Claire was dead on her feet by the time eight o’clock rolled around. She briefly glanced back at the hospital in her rear-view mirror as she pulled away, and despite how her head and feet throbbed, she was thrilled at the prospect of every day being like this one.

When she’d done her research on specialities back in the days before med school, she’d read of the unpredictability of Emergency Medicine, of never knowing what kinds of emergencies would burst through the doors at any given moment. The prospect had thrilled her then, and experiencing it first-hand now was even more thrilling. Today alone, she’d saved a man’s finger after a cooking knife incident, put a shoulder back in place, stopped a head wound from bleeding long enough to see the patient into a successful surgery, and saved a pregnant woman and the baby after trauma-induced labor from a car accident.

It was quite a heady feeling.

Despite the thrill, however, there was nothing Claire craved more than the sight of her little girl’s face, the sound of her happy humming to see that Mummy was home.

The whole day had gone by without a hitch, unless Mrs. Lickett was hiding something from her. The only updates she’d gotten were positive ones, prompted by Claire’s frantic “is everything ok??” texts.

Claire had washed up and changed out of her scrubs at the hospital so that she could spend whatever little time was left before Faith’s bedtime with her on the couch, and then she could fully shower and decompress once Faith was asleep.

Claire turned the key in the lock and pushed open the door, but before she could take a single step into the living room, a little body was plastered against her legs, wrapping itself tightly around her.

“Hello, baby!” Claire cried out joyously as a buzz of humming filled her ears. “Oh, Mummy missed you so much!” She pried her daughter off her legs and scooped her into her arms, dropping her bag on the porch. Claire held her close, kissing her cheek.

Faith nuzzled her face into Claire’s, rubbing her mother’s cheeks as their foreheads rested together.

“Hello love,” Claire whispered, rocking her gently in the doorway. “I missed you, too, baby. Yes, hello.”

Claire gradually moved them into the apartment, kicking her bag inside and nudging the door shut with her knee.

“Hello, Mrs. Lickett,” Claire said, struggling to meet her eye around Faith’s pawing of her face.

The older woman was smiling warmly. “Hello, Miss Beauchamp.”

“Everything was alright today, then?”

“Sure was,” Mrs. Lickett said. “Faith was a very good girl, right Faith?”

“Is that right, lovie? Were you a good girl for Mrs. Lickett?” Claire shifted her onto one hip and bounced her, eliciting a few giggles. A glance at the telly told her that Finding Nemo was nearing its end; Mrs. Lickett had paused it upon Claire’s arrival.

“How was the first day at the hospital?” Mrs. Lickett said, gathering her things.

“It was…a lot. But good, very good.” Claire crashed on the couch with Faith, trying to settle her and failing. Faith very firmly insisted on remaining in Claire’s lap. “I did miss her very much, though. It’s been a while since I’ve been away from her for so long.” She wrapped her arms around her and pressed a tender kiss to the crown of her head.

“I understand. I could tell she missed you, too, but I kept her pretty busy.”

“I appreciate that.”

“We started some basic signs today,” Mrs. Lickett beamed. “Might be a while before it registers, but at least she knows now. The more you start using them around her, the better.”

“Right.” Claire nodded. “I’ve been watching those videos you sent me every night.”

“That’s good.”

Faith made a rather indignant noise, pointing toward the telly.

“Somebody wants to get back to her movie,” Mrs. Lickett said.

“Right.” Claire forced a smile. She wanted to stop her from leaving, to sit down at the table and spend the entire night talking about every minute of the entire day, every little accomplishment, everything Faith was learning. But she supposed if she wanted that much involvement, she’d be home with them herself instead of pursuing a career as a full-time physician.

Jesus, Beauchamp. You sound like Frank.

Shuddering at the thought, Claire adjusted Faith so she could watch Mrs. Lickett go. “I’d see you out, but I’m a bit pinned down at the moment.” She gestured with her head to Faith, sitting in her lap and locking her grip on Claire’s arms around her.

“No problem. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Say goodnight, Faith,” Claire said, releasing an arm so she could wave to the woman. Faith mimicked her, waving emphatically as Mrs. Lickett shut the door behind her. The second she was gone, Faith groaned again at the telly, and Claire smiled.

“Alright, be patient.” Claire reached for the remote on the coffee table. “I’m quite eager to see if Nemo escapes to the ocean, as well.”

Claire, of course, had the movie memorized, along with the rest of the DVDs in their vast collection. Perhaps it was Faith rubbing off on her, but she didn’t think she’d ever tire of watching them over and over again, especially not if it meant she would always get to spend this time cradling her little girl.

When the movie ended about fifteen minutes later, Faith slipped out of Claire’s lap and waited expectantly by the DVD player. Normally, Faith liked to listen to the music during the ending credits, so Claire didn’t make any moves to take the disc out yet. Only when Faith grunted and started tugging on Claire’s hand did she get the message.

“No music tonight, darling?” she said, puzzled, as she removed the disc and handed the box to Faith to file away. She was buzzing with excitement. Something was up, and Claire was none the wiser. The very second the DVD was away, Faith bolted into her bedroom, leaving Claire bewildered. She’d only just started to get up when Faith returned, holding a pile of colorful paper in her hands.

“What’s this, now?” Claire’s face lit up at the sight of Faith’s toothy grin, holding up the construction paper. Claire could see they were cut into the shape of little fish, and they were plastered with glitter, pompoms, google-eyes, and marker.

“Did you make these, Faith? Did you make these little fishies?” Faith hummed loudly and jumped up and down. “Oh, they’re marvelous, darling! You’re quite the little artist!”

Claire perused every single colorful fish, and she made a note to thank Mrs. Lickett. Arts and crafts were something Claire had never been into as a child herself, and something she didn’t have the time or the creative mind to think of. It was obvious now that Faith adored creating, and Claire wanted to smack herself upside the head for not thinking of it sooner. God bless that Mrs. Lickett.

“No wonder we watched Nemo tonight, hm? Are these Nemo’s little friends, then?” Claire held up a bright pink paper fish and swam it around in the air, much to Faith’s delight. Faith joined in the little game, and though Claire knew that bedtime was rapidly approaching — for both of them — she couldn’t bring herself to stop.

After a few minutes, Claire led Faith into the kitchen so they could use magnets to put the fish on the fridge. Claire let her arrange them to her heart’s content, only leading her into the bathroom when she was satisfied.

Teeth brushed, pajamas donned, Faith tucked in, and nightlight on, Claire finally allowed herself to fully feel the exhaustion of her day. The adrenaline of seeing Faith had kept her wide awake on the drive home, and then actually being with her had chased away any thoughts of sleepiness. Now, she barely had the energy to prepare a shower, and she very well almost crashed into bed, fully dressed. It was sheer willpower that finally got her back into the bathroom. This reminded her that tomorrow was bath night for Faith, and she sent up a brief prayer that she would cooperate for Mrs. Lickett. She’d considered waiting until she got home and just taking her into the shower with her, but that would have interrupted the movie, and God forbid that should happen. But if she’d waited until the movie was over, it would have been too late, and the routine would be disrupted. No, it had to be Mrs. Lickett.

Washed and dressed for bed, Claire was wide awake, despite how weariness was etched into every muscle and bone in her body. She could not stop thinking about all of the silly little things that could go wrong while she was occupied at the hospital, of all the possible triggers for a meltdown that she would not be able to stop. No matter how well today had gone, no matter how wonderful Mrs. Lickett was, she’d never stop worrying. Maybe not never, but it would certainly be a long time. At some point in her fevered, internal ramblings, Claire teetered into oblivion, grateful for whatever sleep she was lucky enough to get before her alarm screamed again.

——

Claire drove home the following Friday, her knuckles white on the steering wheel and her vision blurred with tears. She’d been so damn grateful to clock out at four o’clock, and she’d barely made it out of the locker room without falling apart in front of Joe.

She lost a patient for the first time today. Paul Castano, forty-seven, much too young for the heart attack that killed him.

Claire had been beside herself, and Joe had soothed her, told her there was nothing she could have done.

“Go home and hug your daughter, Lady Jane,” he’d said. “Enjoy the horses. You need it as much as she does right now.”

And, Christ, did she.

Claire hugged Faith just a little too hard for the slightest bit too long when she got home after nearly bursting into tears at Faith’s joy to see her. Faith did not tolerate being held as such for very long, and she squirmed out of Claire’s grasp. Today, not only was Faith happy to see her mother, she was excited: she knew it was horse therapy day.

Seeing Faith so happy to see her and so excited to get to the stables was a welcome distraction from the anguish Claire was feeling. The drive over to the stables was calming as well, though Claire was now paranoid about the change in appointment times. Toni hadn’t called her at all, so she had no reason to believe that the switch hadn’t gone over well. She supposed after the day she’d had, she’d be prone to overthinking just about anything.

Upon arrival, she calmed considerably at seeing Faith’s exuberance, and even laughed when she began tugging on her hand, willing them to get inside faster.

Leave it to you to get me laughing on the worst of days, Faith.

The door to the visitor’s center opened, and Faith began humming loudly.

“There they are, the Beauchamp girls!” Toni greeted warmly.

“Hello, Toni. Say hello to Miss Toni, Faith.”

“Hello, Faith!” Toni called as Faith waved timidly.

Erica was standing by the counter, and she crouched down to greet Faith. “Hello, Princess. I’m so happy to see you again!”

Faith smiled shyly and hid half of her little body behind her mother’s legs.

“I’m gonna take you guys out to the stable today, get her started with the hellos and leading her to the riding hall.” Erica stood up to address Claire. “Jamie will join us when we get there.”

“Alright,” Claire said, exhaling deeply. “Shall we?”

——

Joe had been right. Claire needed that hour at the stables just as much as Faith had. As they were driving home, Claire felt something resembling peace settle in her heart. Faith was humming happily, kicking her legs, waving the newest Minion Happy Meal toy in the air.

She did very well again today. She was gentle with Pippi, she didn’t protest about the helmet, she was attentive to both Erica and Jamie. Claire kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for something to go terribly wrong, but it just never did. Not at the stables, at least.

They arrived home, Faith zipping up the stairs to the front door as usual. Claire was grateful to get to watch an entire movie with Faith tonight, to decompress, to hold her little girl and be soothed by her oblivious, youthful happiness. When they passed through the front door, Claire dumped the contents of her arms onto the couch as usual and started toward the kitchen, but Faith did not follow. 

“Faithie, come on! Don’t you want your chicken?”

Faith didn’t seem to hear her. She lifted Claire’s purse and looked underneath, and then let out a groan.

“What’s the matter darling?”

Faith made a beeline for the front door, and Claire sprinted to lock it, having forgotten to do so upon arriving home.

“No, no, no,” she quickly blocked Faith’s exit. “What are you doing, Faith? What’s wrong?”

Faith began whining and pawing at Claire, hitting her thighs.

“Do not hit, Faith.” Claire crouched down and grabbed her wrists. “What is wrong? Hm? Hungry? Tired? Pain?” She did the signs that she’d learned from the videos Mrs. Lickett had sent. “Can you sign for Mummy? What’s wrong?”

Of course, she couldn’t. It was much too soon for Faith to be carrying out conversation; she’d only just learned any signs at all.

Faith suddenly began wailing.

“Faith, baby, it’s alright, I’m here…” She wrapped her in her arms, but it only lasted for a moment. Faith clawed her way out and began pounding on the door. 

What could possibly be wrong? What was she looking for on the couch…?

Then it dawned on her.

Horsie.

She hadn’t checked to see if Faith was holding the stuffed horse before they left the stables.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

“Oh, darling, it’s alright!” She stroked her head and tried cupping her cheeks. “Can you look at my eyes, Faith? Faith…it’s alright. We’ll get Horsie back next week. He’ll be alright.”

She was inconsolable.

Claire exhaled heavily and stood up to retrieve the Happy Meal from the coffee table.

“Aren’t you hungry, darling? McDonald’s! Your favorite!” She held the box in front of Faith’s eyes. “Come on, lovie, let’s go eat.”

She reached to grab her hand, but Faith shrieked and pulled back, apparently having no intention of eating a thing until Horsie was returned. She’d be quite hungry by next Friday.

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ…” Claire threw the Happy Meal back on the coffee table and ran a hand through her hair.

She needs to eat dinner. I have to make this stop. There has to be something…

“Do you want to watch a movie, lovie? How about Frozen?”

Claire scrambled to get the DVD in, holding her breath until the movie started, praying that she’d be drawn to the screen and sit down to watch quietly, and then she could gradually coax her to eat on the couch.

But she just continued wailing.

Claire knew full well once a meltdown was in motion it had to run its course. And this particular meltdown would not run its course until the missing object in question was found.

But she can’t not eat, she can’t not sleep…

Claire didn’t realize she started crying until it was too late.

It was just too much. She’d held a man’s hand today while he died before her eyes, and then hugged his inconsolable wife while she came to terms with having to tell her children their father wasn’t coming home. And then Claire had come home and sought comfort in her own child, and she’d gotten a bit, but of course it didn’t last long.

She knew by the time she drove back, the stable would be closed, so she could not go and pick it up. She tried calling the stable, but no one answered. Apparently, everyone had already gone home.

Faith gave a particularly loud shriek, and Claire felt all her nerves go shot one by one. Hands trembling she scrolled through her phone for something, anything.

Jamie.

Toni had provided her the stable number, her own number, and Jamie’s number in case the main phone was busy. He’d mentioned that he and the other therapists took turns staying after closing to see to the horses. She threw up a quick prayer before clicking on his contact to start a phone call. Even if he wasn’t the one that had stayed today, perhaps he could tell her who had and give her their number?

As the line rang, she felt surges of panic go through her. Was this even appropriate? To be contacting his personal cell number for something that wasn’t really an emergency?

Faith started pounding on the front door again, screaming her head off all the while.

Claire suddenly didn’t given a fuck about what was appropriate.

——

Jamie was sitting at his kitchen table, enjoying the stir fry he’d made for himself and his usual glass of whisky. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he made a note to check his texts later, but then it kept buzzing. Somebody was calling him.

Curious, he pulled out his phone and saw a number he didn’t recognize.

“Bloody telemarketers,” was his first thought, but the area code was local. Eyes narrowing in curiosity, he swiped up to accept the call, setting his fork down.

"Hallo? Who's this?"

"Uh...hi, Jamie. It's Claire. Claire Beauchamp. From the stables.”

Jamie felt like he’d had the wind knocked out of him.

"Oh...Oh! Uh, hello, Claire. What's uh...what's going on?"

Someone on the other end shrieked, and his stomach lurched.

"Is that Faith? Is she alright?"

"Yes, she's perfectly fine. Physically, at least. She left her horse at the stable, the stuffed one. She's absolutely beside herself and she won't stop crying. Nothing is calming her down, none of her other toys, not putting on a movie or music, not even food.”

Jamie felt his chest tighten. Her voice sounded strained, and she seemed completely frazzled. The second he’d laid eyes on her at the stable today he could tell that something was wrong. It wasn’t the usual sadness he saw in her eyes, it was something different, something visceral. Whatever was happening now was certainly not helping.

“She won't eat, and I know she won't sleep either. I called you because no one was picking up at the stable and I was hoping you'd still be there but just not near the phone?"

"Yeah, I'm still here. Just in the stable. Canna hear the phone," he answered without thinking. What the damned hell are ye doing, lad?

"Oh, thank Christ. I'll be there in twenty minutes."

"No," he said quickly. "I'll, uh, I'll bring it to ye."

"What...?"

"Wouldna do fer ye to be drivin' wi' Faith as she is now." Though Jamie was making things up to cover the fact that he was already home, he wasn't entirely wrong. Even if he was at the stable, he wouldn't feel comfortable with Claire driving twenty minutes with a screaming bairn. "Wouldna be safe.”

"But...it's...are you sure...? You wouldn't get in trouble?"

"Nah. I'm sure other therapists have done the same fer some o' their kids." 

Keep digging, James.

"But you haven't done it before?"

"No."

"But others have?"

"Aye." Liar.

"Alright...as long as you're sure it's not inappropriate."

"Only inappropriate if we make it so, Sassenach."

Why the bloody fuck did I say that?

Claire cleared her throat. “Right. So…you’ve got my address from Faith’s file?”

“Aye.”

“So...twenty minutes? Half hour?"

"Aye. Just about."

Idiot. Bloody feckin’ idiot.

"Alright. See you soon."

"Bye, then."

Jamie hung up, threw his phone on the table and slapped an exasperated hand over his face.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph! What is wrong wi’ ye?”

[heroineimages]

Tagged by @theoutcastrogue. (Her post)

Rules: It’s time to love yourself. Choose your 5 favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you’ve brought into the world. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works! 

Thanks so much, sweet rogue, for tagging me! Firstly, this is exactly the kind of thing my therapist tells me I need to do for myself more often. Secondly, I tend to fixate on reading back over my past writing, so this gives me an excuse to do just that. Under the cut because there’ll be several writing excerpts and it might run long. Tagging @chenria, @9musesandanoldmind, @queer-trans-amazon, @jeanjauthor, and anyone else who wants in!

1. I did a lot of tinkering on Hero Forge after they released the colors and new engine. Firstly, I found it therapeutic and helpful for my anxiety. Secondly, I have a tendency to create stories for the new OCs I come up with. In particular, I like coming up with themed versions of the twelve base D&D classes. My favorite so far is the Desert Elf minis and their story.

2. My second favorite Hero Forge buildup was the Muskets and Snow designs, pitting Frost Elf tribes against musket-armed, multiracial commonwealth soldiers, once again based around the D&D classes. (Check my Hero Forge tag for more mini designs!)

3. I added four chapters to my Legend of Korra gladiator AU last year, and commissioned a movie poster for it from my amazing artist friend, Telenia Albuquerque. I added a few fighting scenes and several explicit lesbian bedroom scenes that I’m kind of proud of, including a fun, racy striptease. In the following scene, Asami breaks up a meeting between Varrick and none other than Marc Antony after Varrick attempts to abduct her and poison her bodyguards, including Korra:

“You said our host tried to abduct you?” [Antony] continued, turning to Asami.

“Of course not!” Varrick interrupted, stepping between Asami and Antony. “We’re pals, right, Antony? You know I’d never abduct anybody!”

“Mm, I seem to recall you abducting Titus Atticus’s wife, as well as the late Clodius Pulcher’s favorite catamite,” Antony replied.

“Allegedly!” Varrick protested, turning away and crossing his arms. “I allegedly abducted Atticus’s wife and Pulcher’s catamite!”

“Everything you do is ‘allegedly,’” Asami glared.

“So you’ve had dealings with this bastard before,” Antony laughed. “Please, come in,” he invited, gesturing to Varrick’s office. “No doubt we can handle this like civilized people, miss…?”

“Asami Sato,” Asami answered, allowing Antony to take and kiss her hand.

“Ah! Master Hiroshi’s daughter,” he identified her. “I’ve heard about you, and I’m delighted to make your acquaintance.”

“I’m sure,” Asami agreed with a hint of smooth annoyance.

“Great, thanks a lot, Zhu Li,” Varrick grumbled as the six of them trooped into his office. “What the heck happened, anyway?”

“It would seem you underestimated Mistress Sato, sir,” Zhu Li informed him, [still tossed over the gladiatrix’s shoulder]. The armored pauldron pressed into her gut was really uncomfortable. “She already had her guards inoculated against our poison.”

“What? How could you possibly know that?” Varrick demanded, turning to Asami.

“I’m more intelligent than you thought, and you’re less clever than you’d like to believe,” Asami answered, taking one of the three chairs in the room. “And, frankly, that old Persian trick of poisoning the dancing girls’ lips isn’t as cunning as you thought. It was all a matter of knowing what poisons you have access to and researching which ones work on contact and can have resistances built up for them.”

“Smart,” Antony agreed, taking the second chair while Acainissa stuffed Varrick in the chair behind his desk. Hebasken and Acainissa took up positions on either side of Varrick’s chair, looming over him.

“Varrick, this other door leads to your bedchambers, doesn’t it?” Asami asked, pointing to the curtained doorway.

“Yeah, why?” Varrick frowned. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Korra, are you up for a bit of… revenge-sex?” Asami asked.

“I’m always up for revenge and sex,” Korra assured her.

“Take Zhu Li into Varrick’s chambers and fuck her stupid, please.” Asami instructed. “She’s a very intelligent woman, so I suspect that will take a lot of fucking to accomplish.”

Korra laughed and turned to pack Zhu Li through the door.

4. I’ve also made some progress on an older story I started a long time ago about my OC Elindra, a Drow paladin of the Red Knight who gets turned to a Drider by fanatics of Lolth. The following scene comes during the big escape from Ched Nasad between her and her dwarf cleric friend, Nell:

I used the glaive to parry the [Drider] warrior’s first assault. The snarly bastard was skilled, blocking and parrying my every attack, despite my Haste spell. And even if I did land a hit, my odds of breaking his Stoneskin were frustratingly small. I gave way instead, using my quickened speed to my advantage. An arrow flashed past us, announcing the return of the annoying ranger from earlier. I grimaced from frustration as another arrow shattered against my Mithral spaulder.

This was taking too damned long. No doubt the alarm had been raised and more guards and spell-casters were on their way.

Dueling with the warrior, I deliberately backed myself toward another aperture in the webs. I parried the warrior’s mace, managing to rap him across the face with the butt of my glaive. As he lunged again, I dropped my glaive and caught his arm. From there I leapt backward, pulling him though the gap with me. He caught the edge of the webs with two clawed legs, flipping us through upside-down. Still clutching his arm, my weight yanked him through the gap behind me.

A slightly larger Drider, I flipped myself onto his back, riding him downward as we plummeted. Gripping him by the hair, I screamed, “Smite Evil!” as we hit, slamming his head into the hardened webbing below.

The impact threw me from the warrior’s back, and I skidded onto my side perhaps twelve feet away. The warrior’s head was obliterated—a black, bloody smear across the calcified web floor.

“You alright?” I asked Nell as I picked myself up.

“Ye’re focking crazy, ye know that, Elindra?” Nell grumbled behind me, [still harnessed to my back]. “Ooh, that’s a pretty mess!” she laughed when I turned to look for a way back up. “Aye, let’s see ye Stoneskin protect ye from that shite, motherfocker!” she taunted the dead Drider.

5. And, lastly I’m happy with a lot of the progress I’ve made on my novel, First Empress. The following excerpt is a cute, racy little flashback scene of Elissa and Queen Viarra’s first time having sex:

“O–oh, gods!” Elissa groaned, catching her breath as she came down from her third climax.

Princess Viarra gripped the blanket on either side of Elissa’s shoulders, grunting as she thrust against Elissa’s leg to ride out her own climax. Broad, muscular arms trembling, her thrusts continued to get slower and more deliberate as she finished herself off. Her highness’s entire body shook one last time, and she gave a panting laugh before collapsing halfway atop Elissa.

They lay laughing and gasping for breath for long moments, their legs tangled together, their right breasts squashed against the other’s sternum. Princess Viarra’s arms splayed off to the sides while Elissa’s trembling arms clutched her love’s shoulders. Their shoulders were about even, but Viarra’s cunny now rested against Elissa’s knee. Their clothes lay discarded to one side with the wine they’d stolen from King Vaso and the erotic poetry they’d stolen from Prince Kallis. Above them, the peach trees of King Vaso’s orchard swayed in the afternoon breeze.

“I’m not squishing you, am I?” Viarra asked, her face still half-pressed against the tangle of brown and copper hair next to Elissa’s right ear.

“No,” Elissa laughed, wishing she had the energy to clutch her beloved princess tighter. “I feel safe beneath you,” she promised. “You make me feel safe and happy.”

“And you make me happy,” her highness assured her, turning her head to kiss and nibble at Elissa’s cheek. Elissa squealed and used one hand to try to push her away.

Unrelenting, Princess Viarra made a nasal, growling sound and pretended to gnaw on Elissa’s neck. “Grar! I just want to eat you up, you’re so sweet!” her highness declared, making exaggerated chewing noises against Elissa’s neck and shoulder.

Gods, her highness had gotten so strong the last few years, Elissa acknowledged as she squealed and giggled, unsuccessfully attempting to fight back. Viarra’s arms were probably bigger around than Elissa’s legs, and her shoulders were almost half-again as broad as Elissa’s. And she was tall. Possibly as tall as her mother as well as thick and big-boned, Princess Viarra was just too big and strong for anyone except maybe a wrestler or a gladiator to overpower.

Clearly Elissa would have to resort to guile instead.

Viarra shrieked out a series of giggles as Elissa reached up to tickle her sides. “Gods, no!” her highness squealed, attempting to push Elissa’s hands away. Unable to quite grab onto them, Viarra pushed herself away, laughing as she rolled onto her back.

Instead of renewing her assault, Elissa rolled over next to her, draping her left arm across Viarra’s chest and left leg across her waist.

“That was amazing,” Elissa admitted, snuggling up against her beloved’s nude form. “Thank you for being my first.”

“Thank you for being my first,” Princess Viarra countered, wrapping an arm around Elissa’s bare back. “I never imagined sex would feel like that.”

“You seemed to know what you were doing,” Elissa observed. “I mean, I could tell you were trying out techniques and all, but where did you learn them?”

“I asked Captain Vola,” her highness admitted looking over at her. “She’s pretty candid about sex advice, and even Captain Kellor admits it’s usually good advice. Part of the reason I brought you out here was because I wanted to try it, and there’s no one I’d rather try it with than you,” she added, reaching over to stroke Elissa’s cheek.

Elissa blushed and smiled, stroking her love’s powerful belly. “I’m glad you did,” she admitted, unable to think of anything else to say.

[weaselle]

Hey, do you think you could do an 'Old World' post, like the one you contributed to before? The one with the huge trees and ground sloths and musk oxen being goats. I ADORE that post, and I'm hoping to see more eventually. Please don't feel like you have to, I would just enjoy it :) hope you have a good one!

do you have any idea how much I appreciate being asked to talk about something I’m interested in!? Thank you, I’d love to

Imagine this: It’s 100 thousand years ago. There are dwarves, trolls, goblins, imps, giants, a couple kinds of elves, the First People (those that came before us all) something that might later be called seraphim, and many strange monsters. 

I’ma talk about monsters in a minute. Let’s talk about those other things, the like, fantasy races. Now, I don’t have time for every one of these, so I’m going to cover one I have the most information on. Dwarves

A sister species of humanity that is short, broad, bearded, some with red hair, lives in caves in the hills and mountains, are superb crafters, making instruments, wearing intricate leather outfits and known for creating large expertly made axes and hammers. Dwarves, right?

Or did I just describe Neanderthal

See, the earliest stories of dwarves from Scandinavia are confusing, because sometimes they talk about them being small or short, but sometimes talk about them being enormous. And that’s actually perfectly explained by Neanderthal

Check it out. Neanderthal, while noticeably shorter on average, were BUILT big. Look, it’s not just the cranial capacity, the eye sockets are larger, the nasal cavity is larger, the mandible is thicker, the teeth are larger, the bone around the ear and eye is  thicker. Looking at these skulls you would assume the person on the left was far bigger than the person on the right, and you would be correct, in every way except height.

So when the earliest stories of dwarves sometimes talk about them being short, and sometimes being massive, this situation matches. Neanderthal were THIC. But they averaged about five foot four at a time when humans in the north were passing 5 foot nine

That’s only averages tho, so sometimes it would be like a 5.1 Neanderthal and a 6.1 Sapiens, but sometimes it would be like, a 5.6 inch Neanderthal and a 5.3 inch Sapiens. Which makes the early myths make even more sense:

me, a 5.5 neolithic farmer, whose community of farmers trend toward the short side, having met my first Neanderthal, a 5.8 man built like a bear twice my weight and three inches taller than me “the Dwarves are massive! giant! huge!”

you, a tall hunter from a community of hunters who tend taller than average, who runs into Neanderthal several times a year and knows they are usually nearly a foot shorter than you are “you mean the little people?”

I’m pretty sure that humans were actually the elves that came in both dark and light varieties in these Scandinavian myths, but that’s a whole topic involving the way that invaders often adopt stories of the people they invade. But there are other species, not just Neanderthal and Sapiens and Denisovans, there was also at LEAST one other sister species we’ve found genetic proof of within our own genome. And who knows what relatives of ours were living only on the exposed continental shelves of the last 100 thousand year ice age? So there are a lot of options for elf.

ANYWAY

I like to think of all these sister species of humanity as being these fantasy races. I know I mentioned goblins and imps, and all I have to say is if you’ve ever seen videos of people dealing with baboons or macaques in some town somewhere, you can appreciate what a population of humans who were much closer to wild themselves might think of similar species.

NOW. Monsters.

Not only are there many strange animals to pick from, but I use a fun thought process to include almost anything I want.

See, when you say a creature lived from X time to Y time, it’s because we have some bones from X year, and we have some bones from the same creature dated to Y year. That’s great for describing what we know for sure.

But for what MIGHT have been, for what’s possible, you can extend the range

It’s pretty safe to assume we didn’t get a fossil of literally the last of them to live. So if I want to think about how a mythical creature sounds just like a real creature, but that real creature was from a time half a million years previous to the culture, well, that could still be a match.

Consider the Siberian Unicorn also known as Elasmotherium sibericum a species of rhino. We thought they went extinct 200 thousand years ago, which would have made them unavailable for the time period we’re talking about. But then we found some bones from between 30 and 40 thousand years ago, which means they might have out survived the Neanderthal!

Now consider the Coelacanth a 4-6 foot fish we were sure went extinct with the dinosaurs. Turns out we were wrong by about 75 million years, because they’re still alive today

So clearly, as long as there is somewhere preserving approximate environmental conditions, any number of things could have far different periods of existence.

Like, we know of Denisovans, a whole sister species of humanity, from a handful of bone fragments. This is the biggest piece of Denisovan bone we’ve ever found

That’s part of a jaw. And along with a handful of small bone shards, some teeth, and the tip of one pinky finger, it’s the only physical evidence we have for the whole species. Except that we managed to get a whole genome from the miraculously well preserved pinkie tip. This branch of humanity split from us at roughly the same time as Neanderthal, and modern Tibetans owe their genetic adaptation for higher elevations to human interbreeding with the Denisovan people. They existed for about half a million years, and the only hard evidence we have is a handful of bone pieces. From like two locations.

So if something interesting could be explained by a population of Neanderthal or Homo Erectus living outside the age range of the bones we have, that is entirely possible. Depending on how far outside, it even becomes LIKELY, because, again, we’re never going to get the LAST one that lived as a fossil, fossilization is so rare.

WHAT I’M TRYING TO SAY IS THAT THE OLD WORLD REALLY WAS A WORLD OF GIANTS AND ELVES AND DWARVES AND MONSTERS AND MAGIC

wait, did I say magic? Yep. Consider this: there is a magic valley in Africa that kills anything that goes into it at night. lizards, birds, people, they just... die. But not every time - a person can walk through it during the day and be fine, or sometimes at night too. Turns out there’s a large pocket of carbon monoxide underneath that leaks out constantly. In the day, the heavier than air gas creates a layer along the ground and collects in dips and hollows, but in the cooler temperatures of night drifts up six feet or more. So you might walk into the valley and be fine, but it gets a little cooler, or you walk down hill for a bit, and boom, carbon monoxide poisoning. It can take only a couple minutes to kill you.

Viola, one Cursed Valley.

Or! Imagine you are a human from 40 thousand years ago. You find a grave, you dig it up, somebody was buried with something like a wooden axe or sword (these things exist, it’s all about the density of the wood, the wedge shape, and the weight -- a heavy wooden sword can definitely decapitate a person, and we’re taking about a time when metal was rare or non existent). But THIS wooden weapon, while clearly wood, also sparkles like a gem in the light, is hard as stone, doesn’t burn if put in the fire... THAT’S a MAGIC WEAPON.

It’s also petrified wood.

This is the world I’ve been researching for my book Stone Punk, which I’ve only managed to write one chapter of so far

I would be so happy to write so many more posts about this, I’ve been researching the first domestication of wolves, cave art, neanderthal diets, ancient Indian, Russian, and Chinese myths... all kinds of things, but this post is long enough -- hope it was close to what you were looking for Anon!

[amyscascadingtabs]

i’ll walk through hell with you

chapter 6. i’ll be your arms, i’ll be your steady satellite

read on ao3

read earlier chapters

The Santiago Siblings with families spend a weekend together, Amy’s feeling weird, and Jake’s getting suspicious.

september.

Amy throws out the ovulation tests first. Then, most of the pregnancy tests.

She keeps a few, in case of emergencies, but she hides them so far inside their bathroom cabinet, buried underneath boxes of band-aids and disinfectant wipes, she tells herself it’s the same thing.

 She also throws out the vitamin supplements and the gross herbal teas, and puts the cherished pages of the fertility binder through her paper shredder while Jake shakes his head at her.

“You’re being crazy,” he states when she empties the paper confetti in the trash, immediately tying the bag shut and placing it by the door.

“Nope,” she responds. “I’m finally being sane.”

She stops doing yoga, not that she got into a habit with it in the first place. She goes back to her usual diet and coffee habits. She deletes every fertility-related bookmark off of her computer and unfollows all the Instagram accounts she once tried to find support in. There’s a smidge of panic and hard-hitting grief the first few times she sees a pregnant person somewhere, a harsh pain that comes with knowing for certain she’ll never experience it again, but most of all, Amy feels free. As heartrending as the knowledge is, she’d take it over uncertainty any day of the week.

 Her days of the week are moving quickly, too. It's like the moment she stopped being consumed by this, the rest of her life caught up with her, and now it’s speeding past. Leah starts her first Tiny Tots preschool class, and her parents cry for a good ten minutes after dropping her off the first time because their baby is growing up and it’s all moving too fast. They start doing proper research on allergy-friendly cats and even schedule a visit at a cattery. Work speeds up and she has to work overtime for more days in a row than she's done since having a kid, making her fear their apartment will fall into pieces and her daughter forget who she is, but she comes home each night to dinner on the table and Leah in pajamas begging her to read a bedtime story. She makes sure to thoroughly thank her husband, especially the night when there’s a takeout box with potato pancakes waiting for her, and promises him a proper reward once the weekend rolls around.

“Cool, cool,” he mumbles half-asleep as he makes himself the little spoon in bed. “Also, while we’re on the topic, those potato pancakes definitely weren’t because Leah and I had ice cream for dinner. In case you were thinking that.”

“Jake.”

“Mm. Goodnight, babe.”

 Even without the fertility treatments, her free time between work and family life remains strictly limited, but she does manage to squeeze in something much needed. Every other Thursday night at eight o’clock sharp, Amy finds herself outside the door to Rosa’s apartment, and every night Rosa cuts right to the chase.

“You’re not pregnant?”

“Nope.”

“Not taking any fertility medication?”

“Stopped them all.”

“Take a shot, Santiago.”

She’s decided not to tell more people about her experiences, doesn’t see the point when all she wants is to forget, but every other Thursday night, she vents. Rosa lets her speak, sometimes offering commentary but mostly just nodding, and Amy’s pleasantly surprised to discover it helps.

She’s not alone, and most importantly, she’s going to be okay again.

 ~

 october.

As the end of October arrives, it becomes time for the weekend with all the Santiago siblings and their families renting a cabin upstate. Tony calls it a tradition even though it's the first time they're doing it, but when Amy points this out, he simply shrugs and says it's important to have goals in life.

At first, she's skeptical about it - spending four days in a cabin with fifteen adults, thirteen kids and one dog feels like a polar opposite to the relaxed family time she craves - but it's been forever since she saw them all and she supposes she could use some time away from Brooklyn’s buzzing city life, so they decide to go. She nearly regrets it after three hours in the car with the Frozen-soundtrack on repeat, but then they reach their destination, and all is forgiven when Leah runs to hug all her cousins.

 Friday morning, they arrange a big leaf fight in the yard. At first, it's kids against adults, but as more and more children drop out, it becomes Santiago siblings against partners, and as more and more adults drop out too, eventually it's just Amy and Julian against Jake. The fight lasts until Jake starts complaining about there being leaves in his ear. At that point, Amy's laughing so hard her stomach hurts.

“Loser does all the dishes after lunch,” Julian grins, and Jake looks like he's about to cry.

Amy checks in on him after ten minutes. His shirt is wet from the soapy water and she can see the terror in his eyes as he looks to the mountain of dirty plates, glasses, and cutlery, but he’s scrubbing hard at them one by one with furious determination.

“Need any help, babe?” She sneaks her arms around him from behind, pressing a kiss to his neck and pulling out a small twig that’s still stuck in the back of his hair.

“Desperately,” he groans, wiping his hands on his jeans and facing her. “But I have to prove my strength to your brothers.”

“Actually, I’m pretty sure Julian just wanted a reason to see you in a wet t-shirt.”

“He could have just asked.”

Amy laughs, shaking her head. “I’ll help you out.”

He squints. “Are you sure? You look kind of... tired.”

She raises an eyebrow.

“Not like that,” he says, rolling his eyes. “But you look a little - I don’t know - pale? Did you not have coffee this morning?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t finish it. Creamer tasted weird.” He opens his mouth to say something, but she shuts him up with a glare. “I’m fine. Come on, I’ll help you finish these.”

 -

 They manage to get done right on time for a family walk in the woods. Leah makes it about a quarter of a mile before she starts complaining, so Jake carries her on his shoulders, which results in immediate chaos and tears from David’s twins when they demand the same and David can’t carry them both. Amy helps her brother by carrying Samuel on her shoulders, but the kid must have dog hair on his clothes from playing with Julian's dog, because her nose gets stuffy after only a minute. If it weren’t for the animal being straight-up adorable, or for Leah's excitement when Julian asks her if she wants to hold Oscar’s leash for a minute, Amy swears she would be yelling at this dog, too.

 The stuffy nose lasts for the entire afternoon, and she curses the fact that she forgot her allergy nasal sprays at home. Luckily, she’s surrounded by plenty of good distractions, and the afternoon disappears in a jumble of trying to keep different children from hurting themselves or others while also trying to make sure they’re happy, and if she’s not watching any kids, she’s trying to keep up with what feels like a billion different conversations going on at the same time. It’s enough to make anyone exhausted. She tries to have another cup of coffee, black this time to avoid the probably-bad creamer, but she only gets down a few sips before her throat goes all dry and she has to breathe real hard for the nausea to pass. She pours out the rest in the kitchen sink.

 Despite her tiredness and stuffy nose and sudden coffee aversion, Amy has a lovely day. When afternoon becomes evening, everyone who isn’t cooking dinner makes their way down to the nearby lake to watch the sunset. Leah’s in Jake’s arms with her head on his shoulder, looking all cozy in her purple fluffy hoodie as she sings the lyrics to Moana in the wrong order, and Amy can’t fight the urge to kiss her sweet little face until Leah grimaces and says stop, mama, hiding her face in Jake’s shirt as he laughs.

They’re her favorite sight in the world - the love of her life, and the child who’s held Amy’s whole heart in her hands since the first time she waved to them on an ultrasound screen over three years ago. Jake whispers something to Leah that Amy can’t hear, the girl giggles, and her heart aches with how much she loves them. She may never get the kids-plural family she pictured in her younger days, but she gets this, and it’s better than anything she could have imagined.

 -

When all the kids have gone to bed - save for seven-month-old Charlie, who’s wide awake and happy to get passed around between different pairs of arms - the adults gather in the living room for a chance at uninterrupted conversation and a glass of wine. Amy finds space in the corner of a couch, with Jake on her left and Tony’s wife Clara in an armchair on her right, and gratefully accepts the glass of red wine Lucas gives her. She takes a sip, first enjoying the taste, but the second sip tastes off and the third is awful. She tries to hide her grimace as she puts it down on the side table and asks for a glass of water instead.

 She's not really listening to the conversation, zoning out and just enjoying the comfort of Jake's arm around her shoulders, but Clara nudging her arm gets her attention.

“Do you want to hold Charlie for a while, Amy?”

“I’d love to,” she says, and the next second there's a baby in her arms who's shooting her the brightest of toothless smiles and reaching for her necklace. Charlie’s chubby fingers try to grab the L and J-pendants, so she gently separates his hands from them and he starts playing with a sling of her hair instead.

“Oh, you're strong,” she laughs as he grips it. “Wow.”

“Tell me about it,” Clara laughs. “Sometimes he’s lucky he’s cute.”

Amy smiles. The baby is already snuggling his head into her chest, making himself comfortable. He's truly adorable with round cheeks and light-ginger hair, melting her heart as he grips onto her shirt.

She's missed this. Still, it’s less painful now that she knows - she might never have more babies of her own, but she’ll always have plenty of nephews and nieces to hold, cuddle and play with.

“You're adorable,” she whispers to Charlie with a kiss to his forehead. “Yes, you are.”

“Hey, Amy?” David catches her attention from the opposite couch. “Aren't you guys going to have more kids?”

She can feel Jake freeze next to her.

“We’ve thought of it,” she says calmly. “But we landed on one kid. We’re happy with that.”

Jake squeezes her shoulder.

“Really? Huh.” David nods in surprise. “Don’t you want more kids, Jake?”

“It's not my decision to make,” he shrugs, like it was an obvious fact. “I'm just hoping we can get a cat soon.”

 Charlie falls asleep in Amy's arms, staying there even as people begin to drop out and head to bed. She gives him back to Tony when it’s time for a diaper change, closing her eyes and leaning against Jake's chest once her arms are free again.

“You okay, Ames?”

“Yeah,” she promises. “Just sleepy.”

“You didn't drink anything,” he notes, nodding to her untouched glass.

“Did you try the wine?” He nods. “I hated it. I think Julian has crappy taste in alcohol.”

Jake shrugs. “It tasted fine to me. Maybe your taste buds are being weird.”

“Or I have better taste than you.” She kisses him on the cheek. “Let's go to bed, babe.”

 -

 She’s barely closed her eyes before Leah climbs into their bed, full of energy as she makes space between her parents.

“I wanna go outside and play,” she insists, and when this doesn’t garner enough of a response, she frowns. “It’s morning!”

Amy reluctantly opens her eyes to reach for her phone, reading the time. “Half-past seven.” Weird. They went to bed at one a.m. and Leah’s slept through the night, yet it feels like she was woken up after ten minutes.

“Hey, I have an idea,” says Jake, pulling his daughter close and tickling her neck. “How about we play in here for a while? I have a great idea for something.”

“What?”

“Well, you see, bumblebee, you’re a super brave space pirate. This bed is your spaceship, and mama and I are your innocent, weak humans that you’ve captured.” He yawns. “The rules are that we have to lay still. If we move, we’ll fall out into space and, uh, die.”

“Okay! Dada, still!”

“I love this game,” Amy mumbles, pulling the covers closer around herself.

 The spaceship game lasts a full ten minutes before Leah tires, deciding that her parents are too boring captives for her taste and starting a new game that circles around her trying to jump from the bed onto her mattress in increasingly creative and less-than-safe ways. Jake defuses the situation before she tries to do a backflip, suggesting that they get out of bed and see if any other cousins are up yet, and Amy tries to open her eyes again. It’s painful - her body screams for more sleep, and she channels this into the pleading look she gives Jake.

“Can I get another half hour? I feel like I’m going to collapse if I get up now.”

“Huh.” A line appears between his brows. “Are you sure you’re fine?”

“Yeah,” she yawns. “I just need thirty minutes, like I said.”

“Okay, I’ll wake you up when there’s breakfast - Lee, wait!”

He disappears out the door chasing after their daughter, and Amy sighs in relief as she lets her eyes fall closed again.

It still feels like no time has passed before Jake comes to tell her the thirty minutes are up, but she forces herself to get out of bed anyway. They have a long day ahead of them, and Amy’s not risking getting teased by her brothers for wanting to sleep in. Instead, she throws on a hoodie to hide the fact that she’s freezing, and pours herself a big cup of coffee at the breakfast table. She manages four sips before it threatens to come back up again. Luckily, one-year-old Milo chooses that exact moment to almost choke on his piece of toast, and no one except for Jake seems to notice the gagging expression on her face as she tries to swallow everything back down.

 She must be getting the flu, or maybe she’s picked up some other bug from her daughter. She’s cold, a little dizzy, and the stuffy nose refuses to pass even though she keeps away from the dog. They go to play in the woods while the sun is still shining, and Amy’s enjoying herself as she watches Jake run with Leah in his arms towards a tree, touch her feet against the wood and yell Parkour! only to make the girl lose it with laughter every time, but she’s so tired when they get home, she’s barely sat down in an armchair before she’s nodded off again.

 “Hey, Ames.” Jake’s firm hand on her shoulder makes her return to consciousness. His mouth is set in a hard line, and there’s a seriousness to the way he watches her that reminds her of the way he gets whenever she’s really sick, all worried and overly protective like he thinks she’ll instantly drop to the floor if he’s not right there. “Can we talk in private?.”

She nods, following him back to their bedroom where he closes the door. He sits down cross-legged on Leah's mattress, and she takes her chance to lay down on the bed, propping her head up with two pillows. “Okay. What’s up?”

He gives her a scrutinizing look. “Are you sure you’re just tired?”

“I mean, I feel a little off, I’m sort of dizzy and my allergies are annoying.” She sniffles. “Probably coming down with some bug. Why?”

“Your immune system is way better than mine, though. I’m always the first one to get sick after Leah and I’m fine. I don’t even think she’s been ill in weeks. Isn’t it weird that you’re the only one feeling sick?”

Amy shrugs. “Exception that proves the rule?”

“Yeah, or you’re not sick.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ames,” he says in a low voice, his tone slightly hesitant. “You don’t think there’s a chance you might be - I don’t know, pregnant?”

“Come on. How would that have happened?”

“Uh -”

She rolls her eyes. “Sure, but I think we established my body didn’t want it to happen for us again.”

“Maybe, but face the facts. You’re exhausted, your taste buds are funny, and you were like, seconds away from throwing up your coffee this morning. You’re cold, you’re dizzy…” He counts on his fingers as he lists the symptoms. “It sounds a lot to me like before we found out you were pregnant with Leah?”

“Or it sounds like it's been a couple of intense months, my body's fighting an infection and I’m getting ill once I'm relaxing.”

“Have you gotten your period this month?”

She glares at him. “Stop.”

“Well, have you?”

She sighs and pulls out her phone from her pocket, opening it to her period tracker. Current Cycle - day 33. “It's a few days late.”

Jake’s eyes go wide.

“No.” She shakes her head before he can say anything. “Nope. That doesn't mean anything. My cycle got screwed up after the treatments and they said it could take months to return to normal.”

“Yeah, but…”

“No. Seriously. We both know I’m not pregnant.”

He squints. “We do?”

“Yes. And I can’t let myself think about it, Jake, because if I do…” She bites her lip at the crystal-clear memories of ovulation strips, shots and negative pregnancy tests, of feeling betrayed by her own body time and time again. “I’ll start to go crazy. I just got away from that obsessive headspace. I can’t go there again, I can’t have another negative staring me in the face, I just… can’t.”

He nods slowly, gaze still full of worry as he sits down next to her. “Okay. I just thought I’d ask.” His hands rub soft circles on her neck to ease the tension there, his lips brushing against hers for a few seconds. “Love you.”

“Love you too.” She sighs. “God, I need another nap.”

“I’ll make an excuse for you,” he says, and she swears she’s never been more in love with him in her entire life.

 -

 Jake doesn’t bring it up again, and Amy’s grateful. It's not that she doesn't wish for his suspicions to be true - her falling pregnant naturally would be a miracle - but she can't let herself think about it, let alone hope. She spent a year hoping and it led nowhere. This isn't the first time she's imagined symptoms that turned out to be nothing. If she lets herself have hope another time, only to be faced by cruel disappointment, she's certain she's going to shatter.

The weather changes from gorgeous sunshine to heavy rainfall, effectively locking every present Santiago family member inside of the cabin and creating yet more chaos. Luis and Christian organize a game night for the kids, first consisting of child-friendly memory-games and puzzles, but as more and more kids go to bed, eventually the adults drag out Monopoly and get drunk. They also get insanely competitive. When Simon starts threatening Tony about having him do another challenge for his YouTube channel, and Tony threatens to wrestle Simon right there on the floor, the game is quickly changed to Cards Against Humanity which soon becomes a dangerous game of Never Have I Ever. Amy opts for alcohol-free wine, and it’s probably lucky, because her brothers are ruthless. Never have I ever had a catastrophic double date - drink. Never have I ever made out with someone at work - drink. Never have I ever accidentally startled a man with a genetic heart condition, resulting in his immediate death - drink, remind Julian he’s an asshole, and come up with a good revenge question. She’s relieved they go to bed before anyone can suggest a game of truth or dare.

 The next day, she's feeling much better, and manages almost half a cup of coffee without nausea. She must've been right about it being some kind of infection, she thinks, pleased that it seems to be passing.

The weather isn't improving, so she teams up with a few of her brothers and their families to go to a nearby, kid-friendly, museum while Jake, Julian, and Simon visit a sneaker outlet. Leah finds an activity station and plays there for nearly fifteen minutes with her cousins before breaking down in tears when someone takes a crayon from her, and after it’s been another ten minutes of crying, Amy eventually chalks the child’s sudden fury down to low blood sugar. She ruffles through her bag for a snack and finds an unopened bag of dried mango, and two slices later, Leah is back to normal. Amy also finds an unopened tampon package, giving her a nudging reminder that her period’s still nowhere to be seen, but she shakes away the thought. Had this been a couple of months ago, she would've been rushing to take a test, and she gives herself a mental pat on the back for acting so calm about it now. She knows this means nothing and she's not stressing out. There’s this tingling, cramping, feeling low in her stomach anyway, aching for a moment before immediately fading. Surely that must mean her period is coming.

 They go to bed early on their last night away, ready for the drive home the next day. Leah wakes up crying about a nightmare, so Amy ends up sleeping next to her in their bed with Leah's little legs curled against Amy's stomach and her hand gripping her wrist. As far as sleeping positions go, she could think of far more comfortable or ergonomic ones, but there's no denying the coziness of it. Leah snuggles her nose into the crook of Amy's neck, and Amy falls asleep just smelling her head, and if she’d ever been asked to describe the word peaceful with one situation, she would have chosen this.

 -

 At first, she thinks she's dreaming about a real past event. She's back in the bedroom of their apartment, with Jake sleeping on her right and Leah asleep in her room, but Amy's awake. She can't tell why, isn't fully aware of the narrative here, but she can tell that dream-Amy has an instinct. Something is causing her to get out of bed, walk towards their bathroom and grab a pregnancy test - one of the cheap paper strip ones - from a visible spot in the bathroom cabinet. Something is making her take it. Dream-Amy watches the test, sitting perched on the toilet and staring intently at the first line, and after what feels like the blink of an eye inside of her dream-reality, a second, faint but clear, line shows up.

Even though it's a dream, the explosive happiness is every bit as real as if she'd been awake. She takes the paper strip, wrapping it in a bit of toilet paper, and is about to go ask dream-Jake if he can see it too when she’s pulled out of the dream and back to reality.

“What the hell,” she mumbles as she opens her eyes. Jake and Leah are still sleeping, and it's every bit as dark outside as when they went to bed, but Amy's wide awake and officially weirded out. She's never been one for dream analysis or seeing them as omens of any kind, but something about the realistic feeling has caught her attention, leaving her confused and wondering if there’s any truth to it. She tries to repeat to herself that there isn’t, she isn’t pregnant and should go back to sleep, but her mind is reeling. She tries to do some breathing exercises to force her mind and body back to a relaxed state, but it’s out of reach. The what if-narrative plays on repeat in her head, and eventually, she accepts that she’s going to need to at least outrule the possibility. She’s pretty sure there’s a spare test left somewhere in her bag.

Carefully, she frees herself from the three-year-old’s grip and climbs over Jake instead. He grunts and opens his eyes for a second, but closes them again in the next.

 Amy uses her phone’s flashlight to dig through the contents of her bag, finding her calendar, pencil case, notebooks, and a crossword magazine. Headphones, painkillers, an extra phone charger. More snack bars and packets of dried fruit. Wet wipes, tissues, hair ties, and some makeup. She moves on to the inner pocket, finding allergy medication, tampons, even an expired condom that seems to have nestled its way into the bottom of the bag and stayed there for years, but no spare pregnancy tests. She almost thinks she’s found one, but a closer look tells her it’s an ovulation indicator, and she groans with disappointment. She could have sworn she left one for emergencies, but suddenly it’s gone, and she could wait until tomorrow and buy one, but she wants - scratch that, she needs - to know now.

 “Ames? Are you looking for something?” Jake’s voice is raspy, a mix of surprise and pure confusion in his tone, and she hums vaguely without looking back at him.

“I thought I had something in here,” she says in a whisper. “But I can’t find it. It’s nothing, you can go back to sleep.”

“What’re you tryna find?”

She sighs. “I had a weird dream, okay? So I want to take a pregnancy test, because I just need to know it wasn't real so I can go to sleep. I thought I had one in here, but I don’t, so…”

He yawns, and then, in a movement far swifter than she would expect from someone barely-awake, he gets out of bed and walks over to the plastic bag he brought home from the sneaker outlet.

“Jake, I’m sorry, but I don’t care about your sneakers right now,” she wheezes. He shakes his head and brings out another, smaller CVS plastic bag.

“I know,” he says, “but you might care about this.” He throws her a familiar, pink-and-white carton, and she’s not even caught it before she knows exactly what it is.

“You bought a pregnancy test.”

He nods.

“What - when - why?”

“There was a CVS close to the outlet, I told Julian and Simon I needed to buy some Aspirin, ran in and got this. They didn’t see it,” he assures her, noticing the worry on her face. “I was smooth. And as for why - I know you said you didn’t want to hope, but I thought in case you changed your mind and wanted to know, well... “ He shrugs. “It would suck if you were stuck here with no way of finding out, even if it was just another day. I know how much you hate not knowing.”

She twists the carton in her hands. “I really do hate it.”

“So, are you…”

“I’m going to take it. Now.”

“Now - now?”

“Now.”

 There’s a beat of silence, and then they’re silently racing each other out the door.

 Amy’s so used to the steps at this point, she doesn’t even feel the anxiety kick in until she places the test on the sink and nods at Jake to start the timer. There’s barely space for them both to sit on the floor of the tiny bathroom, so they’re squeezed together, him stroking her hair and holding her hand as she focuses on keeping her breathing steady.

It doesn't matter what it shows, she tries to tell herself without success. It’s just to check.

And yet, there's this odd sense of hope in her heart she doesn't recognize from the last months.

 “How did you guess?” She asks Jake, and he wrinkles his forehead, so she clarifies. “You remembered all the symptoms.”

“Oh.” He blushes. “This is going to sound bad, but… do you remember before we found out you were pregnant with Lee? There was like a week before you took a test, where you kept complaining about how it felt like you were getting the flu, or some kind of infection, because you were feeling off.” He draws quotation marks with his fingers. “You kept repeating that. And I was so proud of myself, because I'm always the first one of us two to get sick, but I was feeling fine. I thought I’d finally get to brag, and I was so excited, but then we found out you weren't sick.”

“Just pregnant.”

“Yeah.” He smiles. “Which, of course, was so much better. Except I never got to brag. It's haunted me since then. So this time, when you said you were feeling off and like you were getting sick… I remembered, and I made a guess. Also, I’ve read the list in your binder. But honestly, it was mostly the first thing.”

Amy laughs, genuine and hearty despite her nervosity. “You're ridiculous.”

He puts his arm around her shoulders. “And yet you keep wanting to have kids with me.”

“It’s like I must be in love with you or something.”

Her comment makes him snicker, and she thinks, not for the first time, that there could never be another person she'd want to do this with - no matter the results on that test.

 The timer rings. Jake turns it off.

“Do you want to check, or should I?”

“I don't think I can see another negative test,” she whispers, the fear making her heart beat out of her chest, and he nods and tells her to close her eyes. She hears him fumble for the test, and then he finds it, and there’s a moment’s silence that drives her crazy.

    “Ames?”

    “Yeah?”

    “What’d you say two lines meant, now again?”

    She opens her eyes, immediately snatching the test from his hands. “No way.”

    It’s faint, but there’s an obvious second line.

Amy just stares at it. She's worried it’ll disappear, like her mind’s playing tricks on her, but it stays.

“This is crazy.” Tears of happiness flood her eyes once she speaks. “This is - this is absolutely insane.”

“Told you so,” says Jake in an attempt of sounding smug, but she can tell he’s about to tear up, too.

“This is positive.”

“Sure is.”

“Oh my god.” She can’t tell if she’s laughing or crying, but she’s shaking, unable to believe her eyes as she looks from the test to Jake and back at the test. “Oh my god, you’re going to brag about this forever.”

He grins. “Consider the fact that I won’t to be a testament to how much I love you.”

She’s too overwhelmed to know what to say, so she just hugs him, smiling into his chest as he peppers kisses to the top of her head.

“Hey, Ames?”

“What?”

“We’re having another baby.”

She’s spent a year wishing for it, getting used to the thought in her desperation to get there, yet his words are impossible to take in. Another baby.

“Seems that way,” she whispers, and he laughs.

 There’s a second test in the carton, and Amy wants to take it right away, but Jake convinces her to save it for tomorrow so they can go back to bed before anyone notices they’ve been occupying this bathroom for a suspicious amount of time.

She doesn’t think she’ll be able to sleep, not when a thousand thoughts are running laps in her head and she’s so in shock she thinks she might still be dreaming, but then Jake’s hand sneaks under the hem of her t-shirt and rests low on her stomach to make sure they're warm, he mumbles, and she places her own hand over his and relaxes.

 ~

  november.

Logically, Amy knows she’s pregnant.

All of the tests, a new one every day even though Jake tells her she’s being crazy again, are coming back two dark lines and plus signs and bolded words Pregnant, and the expensive test with the week indicator which shows how long it’s been since ovulation changes from 1-2 to 2-3 and 3+ Weeks. The fertility clinic gives her a blood test, confirms it’s a healthy pregnancy and schedules an early ultrasound two weeks later, which feels like an eternity. Time is moving excruciatingly slow, even slower when the nausea fully kicks in and she wants to spend as much of the day as possible laying down. She’s secretly happy she’s feeling terrible because that means the hormone levels are rising, and Jake insists on high-fiving her after the first time she throws up, but it does make the days feel even longer when all she wants is for them to pass.

Emotionally, the knowledge is much more difficult to wrap her head around. She’s terrified, analyzing every minuscule shift in her body in fear of there being something wrong and checking for blood in her underwear several times a day. She’s short on distractions, because she’s exhausted and moving too much makes her feel sick, so she’s mostly stuck on the couch after work watching movies and cuddling with Leah. They're not telling her yet - they're not telling anyone, except Rosa who figured it out soon as Amy declined a tequila shot - and Amy feels like a shitty parent who doesn't have the energy to run around and properly play with her kid right now, but Leah seems to get that her mom’s not feeling well, because she's more than happy to read books together and watch iPad until Jake comes home and takes her to the park for a bit.

 She wants to be happy, and every time she adds another positive test to the growing collection, she is, but she’s also dreaming nightmares and waking up in cold sweats in fear that this will be taken away from them. It’s too good to be true, the kind of happy ending you read about but never experience, and she can’t for the life of her try to fathom that it’s real. In short, she’s so hormonal she cries at stubbing her toe in the doorway, so nauseous she has to force down the few things she can consider eating, feeling guilty over how little energy she has to give Leah and how much responsibility this puts on Jake, and she can’t even allow herself to trust that they are having another baby.

 “This isn’t forever,” Jake tells her on a particularly exhausting evening after she's cried in his arms and eaten three lemon popsicles because they're the only thing that tastes remotely good. When she's cried a little more, about her fear and bad conscience and the deep shame in not being able to feel happy about something she's dreamt of for a year, he tells her, “just three more days until the scan,” and that does help.

-

 Amy doesn’t want to exaggerate, but she’s pretty sure the hours between six a.m., when Leah wakes up, and nine a.m., when the ultrasound appointment is, are the longest three hours of her life. Mornings are enough of a struggle to get through with a stubborn three-year-old who’ll put up a fight about anything from clothes to breakfast to brushing her teeth if she’s in the wrong mood, and they’re not made any easier when Amy’s feeling like this, but it’s moving particularly slow today when nearly all of her focus is divided between worrying about the scan and trying to keep her breakfast down. In the end, Leah doesn’t brush her teeth this morning and she has a yogurt smoothie in the car, but they manage to drop her off in time and she gives them a long hug each, so Amy considers it a success.

 Unfortunately, it’s a temporary one. She’s so nervous she can’t think straight, can’t focus on the Taylor Swift-tunes playing in the car or reply when Jake asks if she’s excited. Her head is playing possible nightmare scenarios on a loop, of there not being anything there, of them not seeing a heartbeat, or something else that will leave them no choice but to terminate the pregnancy. Taylor Swift sings something about cloaks and daggers and bright mornings, and Amy tries to see if she can memorize the lyrics for a distraction. She doesn’t get far before they get stuck in a traffic jam, though, giving them no option but to drive a few feet at a time, accelerating and braking on repeat.

 She knows that Jake tries to drive as smoothly as possible. He’s a good driver. She doesn’t have a problem with his driving, but the constant starting and stopping, the inevitable jerking movements, is absolute hell for her morning slash all-day sickness and suddenly all her focus has shifted to trying not to throw up in a moving car.

“I’m really sorry, Ames,” says Jake after casting one glance at her pale complexion, and she doesn’t dare to move her head but she mumbles a ‘not your fault’ before she goes back to taking deep breaths.

 She makes it through the congestion, and the nausea’s easing as they drive the last stretch to the clinic, but then there’s a slight bump as they drive into the parking lot and the fight is lost. She stumbles out of the car in search of a trash can, but it’s too far away. Instead, she has to publicly humiliate herself by throwing up right there on the curb just as another couple is walking out of the clinic and giving her what she assumes are grossed-out looks. She feels Jake’s hands on her shoulders as she coughs up the last bit, grimacing at the foul taste.

“Everyone’s going to think I’m hungover,” she mutters as he leads her to a spot further away, urging her to sit down.

“Oh yeah. That’s definitely what they think about all the women who puke outside of fertility clinics.”

His comment makes her laugh, but the laughter makes her feel sick again, so she stops.

“You okay?” He asks, carefully scratching her neck with one hand as he digs in his messenger bag with the other. “I have water if you want to rinse your mouth, and I’m pretty sure I have gum somewhere.”

“I’ll take water,” she says, accepting the green kid-size bottle that was definitely originally Leah’s and taking a cautious sip. “Sorry about this.”

“You’re sorry?” He lifts an eyebrow. “Damn, queen of unnecessary apologies. It’s okay.”

“I feel like crap,” she groans, ignoring him. “Sorry for whining.” “Okay there, ridiculous. Stop apologizing. It’s not something you can control.”

“But I don’t want to whine about this,” it comes out of her before she can stop it. “I don’t want to be sad, or scared. We fought so damn hard to get here! It fucking sucked! And now - I guess we’re having a baby, but I don’t know how to believe that, and I have to deal with the fact that pregnancy sucks, too!” She shakes her head, instantly regretting the quick movement but continuing to speak anyway. “I just want to be happy, and grateful, and I am. But I’m terrified. I can’t trust that it’s really happening, that it won’t be taken away from us again, and on top of that I feel awful all the time. I just… thought it’d be different.”

 Jake looks a little taken aback by her sudden outburst, opening his mouth before closing it and watching her with that same worried look she’s seen way too much during the last weeks.

“It will be,” he promises once she stops talking. “You’ve done this before. You know it gets better. You get a baby out of it, which - there are worse deals.”

“Yeah. But it feels so far away. It doesn’t feel remotely real. I wanted us to be happy now, to relax and enjoy this, but it feels like everything sucks.”

“Isn’t that just life sometimes, though? It sucks, and then there are awesome parts, and then it sucks again, and then there’s more awesome stuff.” He grimaces, looking down at the curb before meeting her eyes. “I know you feel like crap. I know you’re scared. Honestly, so am I. But we’re about to see our baby for the first time,” he smiles, “and that’s at least one of the crazy awesome parts.”

She nods. “It is.”

“Yeah.” He reaches for her hand, squeezing it. “I just think that… there’s always going to be shitty things, right? Sure, this year was rough, and I wouldn’t want to do it again, but we also had a million amazing moments with Leah, and together, in-between the bad parts. When this baby comes,” he nods to her still-flat stomach, “we probably won’t be sleeping and everything will be nuts for a while before we figure it out, but we’re going to have two kids and it’s going to be the best.”

“I know.”

“I’m going to tell you something I heard from a very smart person once,” he grins, looking proud of himself. “Life is unpredictable, but as long as you’re with the right people, you can handle anything.”

“That person sounds smart. Did they also make a butt joke after that?”

“Sure did. Made me cry, and everything. But what I was actually trying to say was…” Jake blushes, and she can tell there’s a moment of emotional sincerity coming. “I’m with you. I know that. I also know that as long as I’m with you, all the bad stuff is survivable, and all the good stuff is a million times better. And I’d rather have hard days with you, and Lee, and I guess soon whoever this is,” he holds his hand to her stomach through her sweater, “than good days with anyone else.”

“Me too,” she snivels, having to wipe the tears on her shirt sleeve because of course, this is making her cry. “How’d you get so wise all of a sudden?”

“Married you,” he shrugs. “And had kids. Also, I got hella old.”

“You’re forty-two.”

“Exactly. Shh.”

Amy laughs, with tears in her eyes because he’s hitting that perfect spot between wisdom and humor that’s one of the many reasons she loves him so much, and the smile on his lips grows wider once he sees that he’s made her laugh.

“I love you so much,” she whispers, cupping his face with her hands.

“I know. Love you, too.” She kisses him, and he kisses her back for a second before immediately pulling away and scrunching his nose. “Okay, ew, no. Vomity breath. Gross.”

“I thought I wasn’t supposed to apologize,” she teases. “But I’ll take that gum too.”

“Let’s just go inside and look at our baby,” he says as he hands her the packet, and she doesn’t protest.

 There are some routine questions and another blood test, and then they’re ushered into the ultrasound room. She’s nearly holding her breath as she lays down, eyes glued to the screen and Jake’s hand squeezing hers so tight she thinks he might stop the blood flow if he squeezed any harder.

At first, she’s scared she was right and there’s nothing in there, because everything is blurry and she’s not sure what’s what, but then it clears slightly and the ultrasound technician points out a white blob the shape of a lima bean, and there are tears of relief running down her cheeks.

 The technician says and here’s the heartbeat, and Amy has to clasp a hand over her mouth to keep from crying harder than she already is when a whoosh-whoosh-whoosh-whoosh-whoosh sounds through the room in quick little beats.

She could listen to that sound forever.

 They get printed sonogram pictures of their fetus, which is slightly over an inch and just looks like a white blob but is well and truly perfect according to their doctor, and then they’re advised to go home and celebrate. They both have to stop crying first, though, so they stand outside the clinic for another while, just hugging without needing to say anything else.

 “So,” Jake says when Amy’s finally found space to breathe again. “How do you want to celebrate?”

“Do you want to go to Target and look for another shirt that says Big Sister and some stupid cute tiny clothes?”

“Oh, you know I do.”

 They get a long-sleeved pink shirt for Leah, six pairs of baby socks with animals on them and tiny pajamas with rainbow stripes, and then they buy alcohol-free champagne.

 ~

[flutteringphalanges]

                                              Mirabile Visu

Summary: Sister Agatha Van Helsing discovers she’s in over her head when a competitive game of chess ultimately results in her becoming pregnant with the child of her worst enemy, Count Dracula. Now tied by a bond deeper than blood, the two must learn to coexist and adapt in a world that could be potentially hostile towards their offspring. Parenthood has never looked so batty.

Characters: Dracula/Agatha Van Helsing

Chapters: 9/?

Read on FFN and AO3

A/N: Thank you all for the love and support! This story wouldn't be what it is without you! Feedback is greatly loved and appreciated! Knowing there is an audience for this story keeps me regularly updating it! Stay healthy and safe! -Jen

                                                Chapter Nine

                                               Dracula Residence

                                                  Present Time

This was different from the raid on Whitby beach, that much Dracula realized. As he stood there, trying his best to shield his wife from the onslaught, he found it very difficult as the guards formed a circle around them, pressing in so that he couldn't make a tactical move. Suddenly, from the blown in door, a woman stepped inside. She was familiar, her scent immediately assaulting his nasal passage ways. Dr. Bloxham. Ah, the thumbless scientist.

"You know," the woman sighed, looking from Dracula to Agatha. "It didn't have to come down to this. Your flat is rather lovely, it was a shame really."

"If this is about your finger," the count commented. "The nine others aren't completely useless."

"Dracula," his wife hissed quietly. "Don't antagonize…"

"She's right," the woman answered, cutting Agatha off. "I'd be mindful if I were you. I'm sure you've noticed, but there has been quite an adjustment made to our weapons?" She motioned to one of the men, his black uniform masking his features. "Military grade fabric designed to withstand 3,000 PSI bite power. Extra padding around the neck to protect the throat and jugular. Pure silver buckles and," she smiled, pointing to a deep pocket. "Stake holster. But that's not the best part."

Both vampires watched as Bloxham's fingers trailed across the strange device each figure held.

"A crossbow rifle combination," the woman smirked. "Equipped with bullets fashioned similar to stakes with pure silver tips. And," her eyes sparkled maliciously. "Even managed to get them blessed. I must say, the cost was incredible, but thankfully the Foundation has money to spare."

Count Dracula snorted. "I've been shot many times, mortal bullets don't cause us any harm."

"Oh really?" Dr. Bloxham inquired, cocking her head to the side. "Care to wager on that?"

Before either could react, the scientist nodded towards one of the men who pointed the weapon towards Dracula. With a click, he aimed and fired the device, the bullet embedding itself into the count's shoulder.

"Dracula!" Agatha cried out, turning to her husband in horror.

The vampire gripped his arm in pain, trying not to give the doctor the satisfaction of a groan. When he looked to his wound, to his utter surprise, dark red liquid began to trickle down from the entry point. Blood. He was bleeding. And it wasn't immediately healing either. He felt Agatha's hand pressing tightly over his, her eyes wild with concern.

"Detain them," Dr. Bloxham said, turning on her heels. "And if they give you any trouble, shoot them." Her lips curved into a small smile. "Dr. Van Helsing...never trust someone who's emotionally tasked with such a job..."

                                    Zoe Van Helsing’s Residence

The sun had just disappeared below the horizon when Sorina eyes fluttered open. Yawning, she sat up in her bed, blinking back sleep. She was not surprised to see Jack sitting against the wall opposite of her, mindlessly tapping away at his phone-one of his game apps for sure. He'd stayed over after the incident with her parents, Zoe surprisingly allowing it.

"Hey," she smiled tiredly. "Did you get any sleep?"

"Hey yourself," Jack chuckled, putting his cell away. "A little," he admitted. "Zoe gave me a pillow and a throw blanket. At least it was something. Can't exactly complain there."

Sorina sighed, running a hand through her messy hair. "Last night was…"

"Unexpected?" The young man finished. "Look, I know I should've told you about your dad and his...opinion on me, but you just got reunited with your parents and I wanted you to rekindle your relationships before I blew it up."

"If anyone blew up, it was me last night," the halfling stated. "And Mum is pregnant, wasn't expecting that curve ball." She shook her head, glancing at the curtains that still hung over the window. "Where's Zoe anyway?" Not that she really cared. After last night, there had been a long period of silence between them.

"In her room, I think," Jack replied. "Last time I checked she was trying to contact the Foundation. It's strange, she said the phone lines kept sending her to the public voicemail, not to the laboratory itself despite the password. Maybe there's a mishap in the system."

"Could be," Sorina agreed. "I mean, the place is nearly as old as I am. It has its occasional blips." She exhaled, moving to stand up. "Hungry? I was thinking we could order a pizza?"

"Extra pepperoni and bacon?" He smirked, meeting her gaze. "I'll call it in."

"You know me best," Sorina grinned. Pork had, of course, always been a food she gravitated towards. "I'm going to go have a word with Zoe. Hopefully it won't take too long."

Still dressed in her clothes from yesterday, she headed in the direction of her aunt's room. As she drew nearer, Sorina could just make out Zoe cursing softly under her breath. Peering through the slightly ajar door, she watched as the doctor repeatedly typed a series of numbers onto her phone before holding it up to her ear. Seconds passed. Nothing. And the scientist brought the device down to her desk with a sigh.

"Zoe?"

The woman jumped, slightly startled by the sound of her name. Hesitantly, Sorina slipped inside, closing the space between them. Zoe looked tired. More exhausted than usual. Sorina noted a small cut on her bottom lip where the woman must've been chewing on it nervously.

"Sorina," her voice was flat. "You're up." She turned in her chair, now facing the girl head on. "Are we going to have a proper discussion about last night?"

"About how you not only neglected to tell me that my Mum was pregnant, but also the Foundation wanted to 'study' her like some exotic animal?" Sorina nodded towards the phone. "Why are you trying to reach them anyway? To attempt to call things off like some hero?"

"This is a lot deeper than you realize," Zoe sighed heavily. "But yes, I'm trying to handle the situation in favor of your parents. However," she ground her teeth together as she spoke. "No one is taking my calls. Not Bloxham. Not the research facility. No one." Shaking her head, she moved a strand of hair out of her pale face. "I'm sorry, Sorina, what I did was not done with the intention of hurting you."

"If you'd really cared, you'd leave the Foundation for good after this," the young woman exclaimed. "Once my Mum's safety is secured." She paused, noting the gaunt expression on Zoe's face. Anger momentarily melted into concern. "You should've left a long time ago. Have you taken your pills today?"

"They only dull my senses," Zoe stated wearily. "And right now, having a clear mind is needed to figure things out." She glanced at her laptop and her frown deepened. "It's almost like my key card has been cancelled…" It was then her eyes lit up. "Ask Jack to come downstairs, I want to try something."

Sorina studied her aunt curiously for a second, before doing as she requested. Once Jack had joined the two women in the room, Dr. Van Helsing sat up straighter in her seat, expression one of determined nature.

"Call the Foundation," she informed the young man.

"I thought the lines were down?" Jack posed, dialing the number on his own phone. "What makes you think," he continued, now holding it to his ear. "That they'd answer to-"

"Jonathan Harker Foundation," a voice responded on the other line. "Please enter the twelve digit code on the back of your key card to proceed."

The room grew quiet and, though she wasn't sure at the time why, Sorina's blood grew. Jack, looking rather unsure, only continued when Zoe nodded eagerly at him. He typed in his identification number and was immediately redirected.

"Hello," a man answered. "Who am I speaking to?"

"This is Jack Seward," he said with hesitation. "I was wondering if I could reach Dr. Van Helsing?"

"I'm sorry," the person responded. "But the person by that name no longer works for the facility. Have a good day."

With that, the other line hung up. Jack lowered the phone from his ear slowly, his eyes locked on Zoe's. It had been loud enough for all three to hear it. The halfling felt a lump growing in her throat, even her aunt's expression had paled. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

"We have to go back to your parents' flat," Zoe said, breaking the silence. "I've made a horrible mistake."

                                 The Jonathan Harker Foundation

The prison situated in the center of the Foundation's research room seemed even smaller than Dracula remembered. The vampire found himself pacing, his shoulder still aching from his injury. It had begun to heal, his body pushing the bullet out within a few hours, but the sting was still there.

Agatha watched nearby, her eyes scanning the room as if trying to figure out some solution that would lead to their escape. At every given corner, a guard stood poised and ready to take action if provoked. One hand rested on her still smooth abdomen, a feeling of helplessness hanging over her. A mother was sworn to protect their child and being trapped here was going against that instinct.

"Bloody Mina Murray," Dracula growled, turning on his heels. "Should've killed her when I had the chance. Why didn't you let me?!"

"We're really going to argue about this now?" Agatha frowned. "About me saving the life of an innocent woman during a massacre you caused?"

"Well look where it brought up!" The other vampire gestured around. "She had to go and created this ridiculous little institution of hers."

"Well if I hadn't," the woman countered. "You wouldn't have me, Sorina, or…" her voice trailed off as her eyes flickered down to her stomach. The count seemed to sense her worry and moved to her side.

"I won't let any happen," he promised, placing his hand over hers. "To either of you."

"It's funny," she smiled weakly. "You said to me once all those years ago that I can't save everyone and yet here you are, proclaiming the same thing."

"Perhaps you unfortunately rubbed off on me," he smirked. "You do have a way of doing that."

"Must be the inner nun in me," she chuckled, leaning into him. "To think a game of simple chess led us this far."

"Remind me to burn the game when we escape," he replied.

"Not after I challenge you to another round," she countered, the mood beginning to lighten. "I…"

The former nun's words were cut short as the heavy metal sliding doors opened and Dr. Bloxham strode in. She seemed to study the two vampires, expression void of any emotion as she approached, two men at either side. In her hands, she clutched a clipboard, her focus shifting to whatever paperwork was attached to it.

"It's rather unfortunate that I never got a proper examination of your daughter," the woman commented. "Based on the relationship between the Van Helsings and the Murrays, it was declared that she was off limits. A pity, I would have loved to learn what made her tick." A low growl escaped from deep within Dracula's chest and the doctor smirked. "Did I hit a pressure point?"

"For a place that relies so much on Christian faith, you sure lack the understanding of it," Agatha answered bitterly. "Forgiveness, Kindness, Humility…"

"I don't take preaching from a fallen nun," the woman countered. "As for my beliefs on God, they pertain solely on the idea of how to destroy a monster such as yourselves." She paused, amused by Agatha's threatening glare. "I will say, I am quite curious though as to what's inside you. I may have missed out on your daughter, but your second child and its development. I think I'd like to have a better look at that."

Dracula nudged Agatha behind him as the armed men began to circle around in close proximity to the prison's frame.

"Restrain him," Bloxham said simply. "I'm only interested in her."

                                          Dracula Residence

Sorina was the first to leap out of the car and bound towards her parents' home. She could hear Jack calling out, his footfall far behind hers. There was something off. She could sense it. And as she rounded the corner, her heart immediately sank at the sight.

"No," she whispered. "No, no, no!"

The damage was done. The door blown right opened, wood splinters. She could smell it. The scent of blood. And it was not human. Zoe and Jack stood behind her, both humans panting as they too took in the sight.

"Sorina," Zoe said breathlessly, reaching out for her niece. "I…"

"You!" She snapped, turning to face the scientist. "This is your fault!"

"I didn't know this would happen," she replied, pain laced in her tone. "I didn't…"

"I don't care," Sorina muttered. "About you or about the Foundation. I'm going to get my parents back alone or otherwise."

Her eyes had grown dark, and for the first time since he'd known her, Jack felt afraid of her.

"They just fucked with the wrong family..."

[grim-faux]

22 - The Scholar and the Eagle

For a long time I stared at it, struggling to identify the solution to an equation designed by math gods.  It was an elaborate architectural design, and in itself it resembled a complex engine.  It held a beginning and a means to no end.  I pondered over it, not quite fitting the kegs in the machine together, until it finally clicked.  This was the bottom line, the end note, the utopia of their research come full.

 “This is the Morphogenic Engine.  A few lines of mathematics, an algorithm.  Reprogram us, turn us into nightmare factories.  A few numbers on a dry erase board.  Give me a hacksaw and a few hours alone with Dr. Wernicke’s corpse.  I feel I owe him a debt.”

It was all I had come to suspect, in the end.  And now, I had activated the Morphogenic Engine.  Whoopee fuckin doo.  Time to go.

But before I departed, I set the remaining fingers of my left hand on the board and ran them across the fractioned lines.  Not enough to maim the formula entirely, but enough to leave my mark in the most appropriate way I could.  Now, if I could locate Wernicke’s corpse I might drag that along with me as well.

I hesitated from the sudden hiss of the doors as they opened into the corridor, I remained cautious and leaned out checking the cold white walls before I stepped out.  Daylight continued to poor from the hangar doors and the jeep sat, waiting for no one.  With a sigh I turned to the right, hopping over the blue barrels parked on the pathway.  It was a pathway I realized, with small channels along the raised sides that could have transported water.  Or collect water if the floor became wet.  I soon saw this as I slipped past a cart with crates dumped across its top.  Behind it, a body coated the wall.  A BODY was dried to its guts up the wall, and blood had spilled from the walkway into the channel, the vent above it was thick with muscle and spine chunks.

No surprise the mutilation was this far, these people had been trying to get out at the time.  How was this possible?  How was this level of carnage achieved?  I couldn’t wrap my mind around the fact, no one— No ONE had escaped.  I slowed down a bit, doubting my own competence to move those doors.  Recollections of the Asylum and the rotting MHS cop, cut through my thoughts.  Security Protocols, Automatic shutdown.  This was all wrong.

An emergency light burned softly at the end of the corridor, I’m almost certain it was white and not that deep shade of red.  Above directions indicated the Exit was to my left or right if I so chose.  I glanced to the right, but the door left open only revealed a flattened ladder, upon bodies that had been crushed beneath.  Blood coated the walls, as only blood could coat walls in these halls.  I only stared, I didn’t need to enter.

I took the dark tunnel on my left, the NV flashed until the image cleared and I waited for the colors to settle.  The nightvision had only a few minutes of power left, but it wouldn’t matter once I was out in the sun.  I had not located the purge doors yet, and didn’t know if I would need to revisit this corridor.  That charge was in the air, a wild sensation buried in my muscle and bone.  I was waiting for something, I expected something to happen that had not presented itself yet.  I could almost hear it.

I stopped and listened, debating on crouching behind the barrels on either side of the hall.  It was a sound, distant but I’m certain I was hearing it.  Or, was that just the blood vessels in my ears, my heart thudding?  I navigated around overturned barrels, pallets toppled on the path.  It was unnerving how clear the visor had become, or was that just me?  But I was sure I could see further now, than when I was trapped in the Asylum.  Then my mind supplied the answer.  The white walls reflected the infrared illumination for the camera to pick up.

I think lying to myself has become a habit.

There was no other sound, but for my shoes sticky with blood, the Velcro noise echoed throughout the tunnel.  I turned the corner, physically fighting myself not to run.  The friction in the air died to some degree, or I wasn’t paying attention.  I squeezed my eyes shut to clear my senses and focused ahead, where the chiseled rock ended at brick walls.  Beneath the walls stretched caution marks on the path, I’m certain those lines were yellow and black.  I couldn’t judge how far I’d come from the window or if my perception could be trusted, but I was willing to believe the doors couldn’t be that much further.  It looked like a straight walk.

I only made it a few steps before the earsplitting screech of an emergency siren shattered the stillness.  Above, a strobe flashed and spun against the ceiling, its colors might’ve been yellow as easily as they could be green in the NV tint.  I backed up as the camera flashed, the visor had changed and warped before it cleared.  There was a hissing, a grinding shrill that ate through my soul.  I raised the camera higher, though the visor flickered and failed altogether.  Before then, I saw a shape materialize in open air, out of nothing.  I recognized it.  I knew what it was.  The patients had warned me about it.  Without a doubt this was the murderer who left no footprints.

The Walrider 

I stumbled back as that same flash of pain sliced through my head, I saw white and images burned into my eyes.  Damn!  The air felt cold and malevolent, the hair on my arms and neck stood on end as I struggled to shake the stupor from my numb mind.  Visor, the visor wasn’t working!  I pat the camera gently, the image immediately returned as I pivoted.  The distortion in the hall shrieked after me, sounding like nails and death all in the same go.  I felt a prying in the base of my skull as I raced to the halls end.  I hadn’t seen how far back it was before the camera was working, it was impossible to decide if there was enough distance.  My only sane conclusion was to run and not trip.

The corridor vibrated with its grating screams, it was like stabbing hot Q-tips through your eardrums.  My thoughts pulsed with images, tremors surged up my spine and bore into the back of my eyes.  I saw visions of death, red filled the visor.  I zipped by the remains of Murkoff’s people, pieces I had glanced over when I passed.  Only now could I visualize the trauma in their flesh.

I shut down the NV as I zipped away from the dark corridor, my shoes skid on the leftovers of the Researcher torn open over the light.  As I wrench myself around the corner I try and glance over my shoulder where it is, but it’s too dark.  My skin crawled as I detected that terrible presence, as though it were reaching for my throat right then.  But I was already gone, ignoring the pain as I vault over barrels, my brain high on the exhilaration that I could outrun it.  I could hide from it.  Whatever it was, demon, madness of science!  I was going to outrun death itself.

The strobes along the wall bawled warnings and flashed red.  If it wasn’t behind me, the tunnel would be passive and calm as it had been during my first pass.  As it was, my muscles tingled with the spastic shock I couldn’t shake, the light had taken on a luminosity that stabbed my eyes.  When I took the chance to gawk back, I wasn’t paying attention and nearly toppled right over the stacks of sacks on pallets.  I managed to twist my knees under me and skid over, and made a smooth transition to the floor as I resumed pace.  My breath came in ragged gasps, as I fought back the sharp knot twisting in my side.  A little further, hang in there.  I shot around the unmarked tanks and all but plowed through the doors waiting for me. 

Someplace to hide, somewhere deep.  I needed a dark place to curl up and lock it out of my mind!

I reached for the knob but the doors ripped out of my grasp and who of all people would it be?!  The big ugly fucker looming in front of me, eyes narrowed and lips splint back oozing fresh blood.  I was too shocked to move, my brain fizzled out as he swept forward and snared me around the torso.  I made some sort of noise and tasted copper in my throat.  Where was it?  Where did it go?  I tried to see over his shoulder into the hall, as he adjusted his hold on me.  His fingers dug through my coat as he whirled around, in response I kicked at his face.  I must’ve hit him because he gave me a firm shake, causing my vision to ripple. 

“Little pig, little pig.”  I blinked and saw his teeth as he jerked me up.  No!  No!  NO more windows!  He was going to shatter me against the WALL!  He hoisted me over his head as I clawed at his chains, in desperation I slung my foot out and smashed my heel into his mutilated nose. 

Chris gave a nasally hiss and flung me onto the hard floor.  I murmured something as a rib crinkled in my chest, I couldn’t take much more of this.  I gaped up at him, choking as I fought to get a word out, a warning even.  Instead, I crawled away with the camera clutched to my chest, and watched as a dark insubstantial vapor settled over his head.  “No more escape.”

It swirled around his head, dragging him back towards the wall as he let out a yowl of horror.  I heard bone shatter as he struck the concrete and folded to the ground.  He had barely gotten an arm under his weight, when he was slung to the opposite wall and dragged up, leaving a thick crimson trail.  I continued to push myself away, stunned and terrified by what I was witnessing.  Chris slapped into the other wall once, a second time, and dropped.  He lay on his side reaching out, groping for a hold to drag his carcass up.

I raised my camera as the swarm dissipated, and through the flickering visor watched as the giant of a man moaned in pain, struggling to put himself back on his feet.  I saw nothing, but when I clicked on the nigthvision I saw…. the form that resembled something human.  Something skeletal.  It slung Chris over its ‘shoulder’ like he was a filthy towel and launched him against the wall, more crackling as bones rubbed and muscles snapped.  The Walrider flung him to the other wall, but I couldn’t see what it was doing as I clicked off the NV to confirm my theory.  Chris hit the high ceiling and flopped to the polished floor that was now slick with his own blood.

I turned the NV on in time to witness the apparition lift up into the air with its victim tangled in its vapor and… entered his body, or was absorbed by his skin?  I gawked, jaw hanging, as Chris gave a strangled wail before his body erupted into a shower of bone and skin, his organs trailing into the nearby vent and spilling down in a torrent of blood.  Bits of his body spewed off in every direction, until the pristine wall, ceiling, and floor was painted red.

I sat for some time too shaken to budge, terrified the Walrider would return to shred my body to pieces next.  But it didn’t.  A dull ache pulsed behind my right eye and my ribs throbbed, but I was in one piece.  Somehow.  I didn’t know if I should be thankful or not, it was hard to place my emotions.

“This is the way you die.  Ripped to pieces from the inside, watching your marrow scatter on a concrete wall.  You’ve escaped one Hell, Chris Walker.  God help me but I somehow hope you didn’t find another.”

I suppose he failed his self-proclaimed mission.  He never even stood a chance.  I didn’t want to think about what fate lay in wait for me.  I couldn’t get out unless I could get around that… the Walrider.

Red mist stained the front of my shirt, and fresh streaks clung to my lowers legs.  I fingered the cut in my pants, the one caused when the big fucker tried to drag me out of somewhere.  I exhaled a breath that tasted thick of copper.  He was gone now.  But he was replaced easily.

I pushed up to my feet and swayed.  I wanted to say that was a close call, but it wasn’t.  I don’t know what you call that.  Deus Ex Machina?  The story of my life. 

The battery was done.  I clicked off the NV and looked over the camera, taking catalog of its battered state.  I’d be lucky to find more batteries, but it didn’t seem to matter at this point.  I lowered the camera and stared up at the tatters of muscle left on the vent, still wet and dripping.  There had to be a way around it, or a way to distract it.  I might be able to outrun it, but there was no chance I could get around it here.  The purge chambers closed whenever they detected its presence, they probably remain closed.  Maybe they were shut for good now!  Damn precautions.  I just want to get out of here!

I turned and began walking down the hall that wouldn’t lead to the swarms nest.  If I disturbed it again, there would be no second chance.  I’d run out of enemies to feed it.  There was no reason to believe it had just left for good, either.  It might’ve wandered off and lost track of me.  Good lord, my head.  I’ll return to the lobby, I could elude it there for a short time.

A voice drifted up from the hall as I approached, but not the sort of voice I would expect, even in this pace.  I strained to see beyond the double doors Chris had flung open in his hunt.  The panel that was previously locked was now open.  I inched closer and stared inside, to another butchery of MHS tactical.  But beyond the stack of bodies was a Plexiglas chamber with one door, no visible knob.  Inside was a man in a wheelchair, situated behind a desk and calling… to me?

“Over here, please.  I must… try to explain.”  He looked barely alive, his skin wrinkled and wrapped loosely over his bones.  He was bald, and a gnarled hand adjusted the chair he was confined to.  It held him together by a respirator attached to his throat.  Clearly, he couldn’t speak without the mechanism tied to him.

I scanned the room over before I decided to enter.  The possibilities were endless, but I had doubts that I was the forefront of his concerns.  Besides, I already knew who this was.

“Dr. Wernicke?”  I stepped over the bodies splattered across the floor and stood before the door.  I didn’t expect he would open it.

His office was luxurious, maybe too much for a man that had the mobility of a quadriplegic.  A large library of books lined one side of the room, while behind his desk hung a stunning portrayal of Prometheus and the eagle.  I’m one hundred percent certain it was a painting and not a reproduction.  I made note that there were boxes of files set on his book shelf, the crème of Murkoff research.

“I know, I know,” he began.  “I am supposed to be dead.”  I turned around as the door gave a decompressing hiss and I was trapped in here with him.  “No… no such luck.  I am older than sin, but somehow…the only one left.  Because of Billy.”

I tried to be subtle about holding the camera beside my leg and listen patiently to the doctor, but I suspected he was aware of my actions.

“He takes care of me.  He may think I’m his father.  He certainly loves me, the poor idiot.”  I frowned.  I had already read the files, I was aware of their ‘talks.’

Dr. Wernicke directed his chair toward the same trinity molecule symbol thingy from the labs lobby.  “Do you know what this symbol represents?”

I shrugged.  “Molecular contamination?”

“It warns of a Nanohazard.”  He turned to face me once more, and rolled toward the clear Plexiglas that separated us.  “Microscopic machines.  Technology we have had for decades but never mastered.”

Files flashed through my memory.  H Theory experimentation, long before Murkoff took over Mount Massive.  “…waiting for them in the mountain.” My hand trembled as I set it over my eye.  Lights were too damn bright.

“Does your head hurt?” he asked, no tone of concern.  Though a machine was speaking for him.

“No.  No,” I whispered.  Don’t lose it now, Miles.  My pride was still intact, notwithstanding the circumstances.  I caught sight of myself in the reflective surface and was reminded of how hellish I must look.  “It’s just stress.”

He made a sound I couldn’t identify, and said, “You’ve been through a lot.”

I looked at him.  “No.  I have not.”  I cleared some of the copper in my throat before I spoke.  “You knew how to access that technology?”  Come to think of it, I shouldn’t be asking him these questions.  He wasn’t my buddy, we weren’t discussing theories over coffee.  I was in a tiny air tight cell, surrounded by corpses.

Wernicke dipped his head as he adjusted the chair, and wheeled around the side of the room.  “Murkoff discovered, in my research, a workaround.”  I pressed my hand to the Plexiglas to steady myself, and watched the doctor move.  “Turning the cells in a human body into nano-factories.  It’s the natural function of cells to produce molecules, but through psychosomatic direction, we engineered the precise molecules necessary.  Mind over body.”

He stopped parallel to the desk and adjusted his chair, as if to reconsider the nanohazard inscribed on the wall.  “It was… foolish and wrong to think we could control it.  To use mad men to make something so strong.”  I nodded slightly.

“You have to stop him, to… murder Billy.”   He spun the wheelchair to face me and enforced this duty.  “Turn off his life support, his anesthesia.  You have to undo what I’ve done.”

I leaned back from the barrier uncomfortably and looked upon the dead soldiers pureed across the floor.  He must have anticipated my reservation.  “No one can get out of this place while he lives.  You must kill him.”

I ran my thumb along the hairline crack in my camera and took a breath.  I think my patience irritated him.  “And how do I go about this?”

“Down the hall here, I will open the entrance to the Morphogenic wing.”  He tilts his head to my right.  The door behind me whispered as air seeped back into the room.  I hadn’t realized how rancid the air became, while I was trapped with these bodies.  “Do whatever you must to… stop it all.”  With that he turned his back to me, and seemed to fix his gaze on the painting of Prometheus.

I said nothing.  I backed away to the entrance and paused.

“We achieved something like this back in 1944.  Those fascists thought it was spirits, and we let them believe it.  Let them kill themselves thinking there was some kind of afterlife empirically promised to them.  Fools.”

While he was turned away, I raised the camera to make sure and film his confession.  “Poor Alan.  He would weep to see what I’ve built from his dreams.’

“Billy doesn’t mean harm.”  I glanced down to the soldiers and wondered; had they been trying to protect Wernicke, when ‘Billy’ escaped.  Had they been mistake as a threat, while trying to defend the doctor?  “He’s a child with a damaged mind, granted the powers of a God.  It would make any of us into a monster.”  Seemed so.

“You must end this.  We all must die here.”

There was a terse pause here.  The doctor was waiting for my response, but I said nothing.  I had misgivings for this statement, but I didn’t humor him with voicing them.  This was a true man of science.

“Murkoff knew the danger, and they didn’t care,” he resumed.  “In the corporations’ mind, we are all just dollar amounts in a ledger.  And the profits Project Walrider promised overshadowed whatever pitiful balance a few doctors and patients amounted to.” 

I lifted my brows and shrugged though he couldn’t see it.  I doubted he was so white knight about his research during the time.  I kept in mind he was one of the scientists of Project Paperclip and therefore, an asshole in my book.

“He will spread if you don’t stop him.  The Morphogenic Engine is self-perpetuating.  I pray to God you have the strength to end it here with your death.”

I debated with myself for a beat while I stood in the doorway.  “I don’t know if I’m that strong.”  I glanced over my shoulder as Wernicke’s chair moved and I could see him watching me as I turned away.

“More than anything I want rest,” his mechanical voice sounded worn, tired.  “Billy will not let me die.  He could never imagine how cruel this is.  I only want to die.”

When I was out of Wernicke’s chamber, the door gave a soft hiss as it shut.  Directly in front of me was the plate indicating the Morphgenic Engine chamber, and an arrow indicating my left.  It seemed like hours ago I had come through, exhausted and apathetic to what it could mean.  The concept at the time vague, especially after reading the complex formula left on the dry erase board.  All those chemicals left in the room of freezers.  They were added accordingly to a stewing pot of poison, and somehow, someone managed to misread the formula.  Good job.

As the doctor had promised the doorway was open into that section of the lab.  On the glistening floor I could make out the same trail marks here, as those I had noted curving into Wernicke’s room.  I looked up, and tucked in the upper edge of the corridors wall, was a camera.  It faced forward, sentry of the tunnel.

I had no idea what to expect, aside from the limited hindsight I had if/when Billy decided to attack.  My breath hitched, I don’t know why.  Maybe I sensed the malice and death, a heavy fog lingering throughout the facility.  It coiled about the living, struggling to drag my body into the rot and forgotten shadows of the halls. 

Billy was a child with a damaged mind.  Did he realize what he had done?  Dream therapy.  Maybe not.  But he was still a dangerous and wild creature, a force of nature set loose on the hapless denizens, whom had no capacity to defend themselves once he was loose.  It was impossible for him to stop.

I took a breath and stepped through the door, expecting at any moment to be eviscerated and thrown against the walls.  To have my skin splint open, and my brain matter smeared along the ceiling.  But nothing happened.  The silence loomed dark and ominous in the corridor as expected, my heart pumped as my mind pulsed.  I could only sense the lurking threat twisting in my skull.  At the far end of the hall a vivid aide-mémoire of what I would inherit upon failure, the red Rorschach spread across the wall.  If I squinted just right and tilt my head, it looked like a man waving.

The camera jarred my thoughts when it buzzed, its image feed still recorded but the battery for the NV was done.  I could only gamble that the infrared had enough power, to pick up an image of the Walrider if it approached.  It was all I had.

I first approached the doors on my left, and opened them up into a shower block.  The soft patter of water continued to run, at a glance I couldn’t decide where the sound came from.  There could have been no running water at all, and the sound was all in my ears.

In the far corner across from me, the body of a Murkoff researcher was slumped against lockers.  Shower stalls lined the back wall, and the wall to my right was equipped with some sinks.  I crept in and checked through each stall, finding very little but the remains of people.  They must have crammed in here when it all went to hell, but either became trapped in panic or couldn’t find a way out that wasn’t full of murder.  This idea was supported by a scientist crammed at the back of one stall, a broken camera clutched in his stiff hands.  The night features of the camera were now understood by me, but it apparently did him no favor. The batteries had been used up.

I stopped to stare into one stall, at the running water and the bloody remains of a body.  I couldn’t recall where, but I had seen this image before.  Blood down the drain.  Except the red was gone, replaced with the gooey puss of the swollen guts.  The water collected in a puddle beside them, and nudged the inflated mass periodically.

I turned away and crossed the room to a second set of doors, just beyond the sinks.  Plaques on the wall warned employees to Wash Hands Thoroughly.  Maybe at the time it would have made a difference.  Maybe something contaminated ‘Billy’ and that’s why everyone was dead.

And maybe that was full of shit.

Two doors.  Two doors in and out of the shower room.  I tried the second, and made sure the knob wouldn’t lock or stick if I had to come back through.

The next set of doors directly across from the showers, led into the cafeteria of the resident scientists.  I entered a door on my right, but found it only directed through the food preparation area.  Industrial shelves lined the walls, loaded with large canisters of food among other provisions.  A few steps in and there was another slew of corpses shredded over the walls and floor, guts had dried in odd twists over the tray rail.  I climbed over it and out into the main diner.  Rows of tables had been shoved around, the usual slaughter adorned all furniture.  I noted there were fewer bodies down here than on the upper floors, but that would make sense.

When Billy began attacking the scientists, no one was hanging around asking questions.  They knew what the swarm was capable of, once the first person was killed.  The place shut down to prevent his escape, but it only trapped everyone down here.  Those that did reach the upper floors weren’t keeping track of the patients, and it only got worse when they got loose. 

Security lock down.  Once monsters like Chris Walker, the twins, and every other murderous lunatic got out on the loose, it was only a matter of time before the staff succumbed to their fate.

I could see it unfold right here, as though it was only yesterday.  I walked around the room imagining the scientists seated, talking, comparing notes.  Stressed.  Project Walrider was at a dead end, many of the staff had already disappeared.  Then suddenly death, sirens flashing, containment breach.  The panic they felt when people began exploding, the realization that all their hard work had inevitably created something that they couldn’t control.  The primary exits blocked, blood was everywhere and they were unable to see the enemy, couldn’t know where it would come from next.  Not everyone fit on the elevator.  Those that didn’t make it hid themselves away, listening as their colleagues shrieked the moment before they painted every surface in vivid color.  Those that survived the first wave, spent the last hours of their life in fear, wondering when it would be their turn to die.

I stopped in the hall as the screeching ceased.  What hope did I have to survive?  The pain buried itself in the back of my head and my vision distorted.  If I hid in the dark corners of the labs, I would die.  If I fought back, I would die.

No.  No, I would not die here.  I promised myself I’d get the story and walk out of those doors, and I damn well planned to do just that.  If Billy couldn’t catch me first, then I would use whatever means was at my disposal to put him down.  What mattered most was that I would not stop until I was dead, and I could not stop until I was dead. 

I had no other choice but to go through with it.  I would do this.  Whatever it took, I would kill Billy.

The last door on my left was open, just a bathroom, a dead end.  Walls coated in gore, red and black stained the mirrors.  I simply closed the room and moved on.  The sirens were getting louder, alerting me to the presence of the swarm.  At the halls end was a plaque informing the left corridor to the Morphogenic chamber.

I took the right, my shoes sticking to the liquified bodies of more employees, most must have been in this area when Billy attacked.  Every few feet there was more blood, more sections and chunks and human pieces.  If there was any truth behind ores in the soil enhancing kinetic energies, then Mount Massive would become one of the most haunted Asylums in the world.

The hall ended and I stepped through the available door, the room was filled with additional cabinets and more freezers.  One of the reinforced freezer doors was left open and its cold air filled the small space of the room.  Numerous vials had fallen out, their contents spreading through the sack of innards marking another death.  Frozen icicles of red filled the freezer and gave half the room an ominous maroon glow.

I recalled notes concerning patients that had to be killed.  When test subjects began to resist their sedatives, lethal injection would have been made the mandatory procedure.  Murkoff wouldn’t risk creating something with volatile tendencies.  That couldn’t be killed. 

Billy was a failed experiment.  Murkoff would have tried to dispose of him discreetly, then move on.  But if he was somehow aware of this, then his retaliation was only natural.  It sounded solid for turning him into the mass murdering, child monster that he was. 

Dr. Wernicke kept the details of what happened to himself, but I did have the camera.

My hands were shaking.  I had trouble keeping the camera steady, always checking the visor and only satisfied that the atmosphere was calm.  But it was borrowed time, I wanted to avoid it, but I couldn’t.  I checked the open hall waiting before me.  Markers set on the corners, contrasting white walls with yellow black warning tape.  Vents overhead, cables and pipes lining the wall.  No distortions, no hallucinations, no eerie shrieks.  It was all borrowed time.

Time was my enemy.

I proceeded, the harsh alarm drilling through my thoughts growing louder with each step I took.  Was it the swarm, or was it broken?  I didn’t know.  I wouldn’t know until I reached it.

The plate on the wall read Morphogenic Chamber, and indicated ahead with a red and white arrow.  I paused to rub the stiffness in my eyes and checked the visor once more.  Nothing but noise and static.  How was it exactly I could tell when it was present?  I wasn’t certain, only that I could feel it.  It felt malign and hostile.  That creeping chill fortified my resolve.  I would do this, I could.  I would kill Billy and leave this place.  Just leave.  No distance, no nothing.  No rest or healing, just step through the exit.  Seeing the exit at long last might just kill me, I don’t know anymore.

I took a slow breath and continued, tying not to view the red, the pieces.  Not anymore.  No more death.  Focus on what needs to be done.  Those marks on the floor, the ones I knew so well.  They trail through the red like they were meant to be.

Wernicke wanted me dead.  I knew this without a doubt.  I was not supposed to be here, and he didn’t want me mucking in Murkoff’s shortcomings.  Whether he foresaw their failure or accepted it.  I was a journalist sated by the knowledge of this place, and his involvement in it.  The man was legally dead in the government’s eyes, but I had video footage to prove otherwise.  Along with his confessions of what Murkoff had hoped to achieve, and what it had done.

It was, as we say in my line of work, the scoop of the century.

A short corridor to my right led to a purge chamber, it was already locked due to protocol.  Above a light flashed its irritating color, while the alarm whirred.  Someone’s torso had been shoved between a series of tanks parked there, or they were ripped out of the space when they found the doors locked. 

I covered my ear as I turned away, trying to focus.  As of yet I had not picked up on the swarm, if it even was in this area.  A plaque on the wall identified this as B Block, the Morphogenic wing.  I stood beside a tank of liquid nitrogen, doubting if I would be able to detect when it did appear.  What if it could hide?  What if it was at the end of the corridor right now waiting for me, and I didn’t realize it?  I wasn’t expecting myself to just walk into a lab and smash everything up, it’d be nice, don’t get me wrong.  But it wouldn’t be that simple, and I wouldn’t fuckin kid myself about that.

Or he didn’t know I was here.  That was a possibility.  The swarm could be camped at the end of the first tunnel I had stumbled into, waiting for me.  If he believed I was dead set on just strolling out.  The key word here was ‘if.’  No evidence to prove otherwise, no reason to let my guard down.

My heart thudded in my chest as I neared the tunnels end.  Three sets of doors greeted me, two double and a single on my left.  I took a wild guess and decided the one straight ahead, would lead to the Morphogenic Chamber.  I tried to mentally prepare myself for what would come.  What was it I would need to do to shut it down?  How did the life support systems function?  Was there a switch in the room?  What did the Morphogenic Engine entail exactly?  It was self-perpetuating, that’s as far as I knew.

I focused on the body ahead, a thick pool of red stretched across the floor and wall.  Death awaited me.  If I failed, if I stopped, I would die.  I took a breath and braced my nerves as I moved towards the doors—

I didn’t make it.

A soft hissing, or wail enveloped my senses and I turned to the doorway on my left as a misty figure slid into my view.  I stared into the visor as I backed away and checked the NV feed.  I already knew what it was before the name entered my brain.

Billy either perceived my intentions or saw my presence as a threat.  Whatever his conclusion meant, one thing was for certain.  He would not let me get near the Morphogenic Engine.

[daquanfromthetrap]

Sebastian x Reader(Ch. 2)

You walked in silence alongside Sebastian as the two of you made your way to the gardens. He spoke of the design of the mansion, the architecture, and the decor; but you paid his words no mind. You were hell-bent on figuring out what it is about this butler that intrigued you. Just as the two of you had made it outside, you were surprised by a rather loud disturbance further into the gardens.

*BOOM!* You and Sebastian stumbled a bit as the ground shook. You looked over at him in confusion as he held out his hands to steady you.

Sebastian squeezed the bridge of his nose and let out a sigh of irritation before excusing himself. “Do excuse me, my lady. It seems that there is a... problem, I must see to at this instance. I will rejoin you once all is well, Madame.”

You paused a bit, watching after him as he hurriedly made his way in the direction of the commotion. Well, I have nothing else to do at this dreadful party. You laughed to yourself as you began in the same direction that Sebastian had so hastily walked off in.

Walking deeper into the gardens, you could hear a nasally, high-pitched voice. “Oh we are sorry, Sebastian, sir. Yes we are!”

You heard another voice. “We was only trying to trim the trees, Sebastian. You know, staying out of sight like you said we should.”

“I was just tryna trim them a bit faster.” A third voice mutters.

You continued walking until you came upon a rather puzzling site; Sebastian with three other servants, surrounding a fallen tree that was partially burnt. The servants were covered in what seemed like soot, one of them holding a flamethrower.

“Are you lot alright?” you asked, stifling a laugh at the scene that laid before you.

“My lady! Please forgive us for the disturbance. We, of Phantomhive manor, strive for perfection in order to maintain the estate in pristine and orderly condition. Such are the orders of our master. Our deepest apologies for the disarray. ” Sebastian bows, clearing his throat and throwing a dangerous look towards the other three servants.

The three of them follow suit in Sebastian’s apology as they clumsily take their own bows. “Ah yes, milady we are sorry!!!”

They have a tremendous amount of respect for him... mixed with a bit of fear. You took note, watching the interaction between the butler and these other servants.

“My lady, if you would just follow me this way please. It is far too dangerous for a young woman such as yourself to be near such a ghastly site. I would be happy to escort you to another area of the grounds that would be more suitable for you.”

I have a feeling he’s not talking about the tree.You giggled. “It’s quite alright, Sebastian. Really it is. The tree has already fallen.”  You glanced over at the burnt tree then back at the group of servants before you. “And who might you three be?”

“Pleased to meet you, milady. The name’s Baldroy. I’m the cook of the Phantomhive household.”

“Hardly.” Sebastian mutters under his breath, loud enough for the rest of us to hear.

Before Baldroy could say anything else, you quickly replied, “Ah, so it was you who made the exquisite spread we had for the ball tonight. I commend you on your cooking skills, chef.”

“She said, ‘chef’!” Baldroy gushed as he practically melted into a puddle of tears from his own excitement.

You turned to the servant next to him; the maid. “And what is your name?”

“My name’s Mey-Rin, milady. Yes it is.” she answered clumsily.

“Mey-Rin. What a pretty name.” You smiled at her, causing a deep blush to appear on her cheeks. “That’s a foreign name, yes? Chinese?” You asked, to which she nodded in reply. You reached out to touch her hair. “Such beautiful hair you have. You must tell me your secret.” You whispered your last words, giving her a playful wink before moving on to the last servant.

“I-I’m Finnian, milady. But everybody just calls me Finny. I make sure the grounds of the estate are in tip-top shape for the master”, the young boy said shyly.

“So you’re the one responsible for the beauty that surrounds us right now, is it? I’m excited to see what else you’ve done with the grounds. I’m sure it gets better than this.” You look around you before looking back at the young boy, taking your handkerchief and wiping the soot off his cheek. He gasps, staring back at you in awe, finding it hard to reply to you coherently.

Sebastian just stands back, watching you intently. Interesting, he thought to himself as he noticed the effect you have on others; or rather the effect you have on humans. Although, it could very well just be these simpletons, he thought again, staring at the three servants with disdain. Weak. You show a human a fragment of kindness, and they’ll be eating out of your hand. Pathetic.

You felt Sebastian’s eyes bore into the side of your skull, watching your exchange with these servants. Trying to get a read on me, eh? You then spoke up, “My goodness, it seems I’ve lost track of the time. I should be heading back to the ball or my father will go mad searching for me.” You nodded to the servants, “Pleased to meet the three of you. I wish you luck on your tree trimming.”

“Thank you, milady”, they answered simultaneously.

You then turned to Sebastian, “If it’s not too much trouble, Sebastian, may you accompany me on the way back to the manor. I’m afraid I might get lost if I go by myself.”

“Why, it would be my pleasure, madame.”

After parting with the others, the two of you quietly began your walk back to the manor until Sebastian finally broke the silence. “It seems that the Phantomhive servants are quite enamored of you, milady.”

“Oh? And does that include you as well, Sebastian?” You questioned, raising a brow at him.

“Well I must admit, Madame, you are rather intriguing.” He answered you, saying the last word in a sultry tone.

He’s trying to test me; but little does he know, I like to play this game too. You smiled to yourself, steadily watching the ground you walked on. “And I can say the same for you as well as your master.” You replied calmly, blatantly ignoring the tone in his previous words. “No doubt, my father and your master will need to discuss some things once we get to the manor.”

Hmph. This might be a bit harder than I thought. I’d usually have her practically begging me to eat out of my palms by now. Ah well, I do love a challenge. Sebastian thought to himself.  “Ah yes. The Queen’s Spider and Watchdog have much that need to be discussed.” He paused a bit before continuing, “and where might that leave you, milady?” He asked slyly with a small grin.

“Whatever do you mean, Sebastian?” You let his name playfully roll off your tongue before gently placing your gloved hand on his forearm. 

Another strange sensation emitted from the contact between you and Sebastian. This time, you both jumped away from each other, not knowing what to do. You just silently stared at each other in bewilderment, each of you not knowing how to react or what to say. 

What the hell is this? I’ve never experience such a strange interaction. You were trying to organize all the thoughts going through your head while trying to regain your composure. 

Sebastian stood opposite of you, looking just as puzzled. Who... or what, is she? What kind of creature is capable of causing such a reaction from myself? 

The two of you stood there in silence for a bit longer before you cleared your throat, attempting to take control of the situation. “Come now, Sebastian, I suspect my father and your master will be wondering where we are right about now.”

He stared back at you in a daze; he then straightened himself and obliged to your request as he began walking ahead of you. You continued the rest of the walk in complete silence. Although neither of you dared to say a word to each other, the air was thick with tension. It may have made anyone else feel incredibly uncomfortable but the two of you were consumed by your own thoughts. Both of you only looked up occasionally; eyeing the other suspiciously. 

She doesn’t smell like a human. She’s not a divine being either. She also doesn’t appear to be a threat to myself or the young master but her presence does seem to strike up a rather interesting reaction within myself. In fact, she too was taken back by surprise when we made contact. Sebastian pondered, trying to make an assessment of what it was about you that could cause such a spontaneous response from him.

You were doing some thinking of your own, until the two of you were finally near the manor. It was evident that the party was coming to an end as you saw many guests calling upon their carriages to depart. You and Sebastian were able to locate your father and Lord Phantomhive fairly quickly. Upon your arrival, you were warmly greeted by your father. “Ah, there you are, Darling! I was beginning to wonder where it was you managed to slip off to.”

“I was only admiring the grounds of your lovely estate, Lord Phantomhive. Sebastian was kind enough to accompany me.” You stated, slightly turning away from Sebastian but still keeping your eye on him.

“The Phantomhive household is honored to have you grace our grounds, milady.” Lord Phantomhive smiled. “Now that you are both here, I believe there are some forms of business that we all must discuss.” 

The four of us made our way to Lord Phantomhive’s study for a more private conversation. Before we even sat down, Sebastian was already wheeling an assortment of fresh pastries and freshly brewed tea. He poured the tea for his master, your father and you, occasionally stealing glances at you. You eyed him warily before tuning into the conversation between your father and Lord Phantomhive. 

“It seems that we have received instructions from The Queen.” Lord Phantomhive states to your father. “I admit this is a bit unusual for her to ask us to work so closely together like this, seeing that the Spider usually begins his work after I have finished mine.”

“Yes, my lord. But according to our research, there has been a case not unlike this one in the past.” He then turned to you, “Darling, if you would be so kind as to inform the young lord of this past matter.”

You nodded to you father, handing Sebastian the files you have compiled about the case, being careful not to touch his hands. As he placed the documents on his master’s desk, you began, “It is a rare occurrence when the Queen’s Watchdog and The Spider are ordered to work together. Their work goes hand in hand to fulfill their duties to The Queen, yet, they seldom cross paths during a job. Notably, these are the cases that require the most attention, seeing that they have an alarmingly increasing mortality rate. It seems that Her Majesty has become rather upset by the amount of mysterious deaths and disappearances happening in London recently. The victims have all been families of three. The mother and father are found dead; their eyes completely burned out and with no trace of the child.” 

“No trace of the child?”, Lord Phantomhive inquired, looking through the file.

“Yes my lord. The parents are found dead and the children go missing. They have yet to be found; dead or alive.” You paused for a bit to sip your tea before continuing, “Apparently, this is not the first time this has happened. There was a case many years ago in which families of three were found in the same manner. The parents with their eyes burnt out of their sockets and the child gone missing. According to previous accounts of the murders, it was thought that the murderer watched the families for weeks, stalking his prey before the final blow. This all came to an abrupt end before the killer was even caught. Six couples were found dead. Their children were never recovered.”

“I see.” The young lord replied, slowly sipping on his tea.

“Her Majesty has entrusted us with the task of dealing with this problem, discreetly. She instructs that we find the culprit and retrieve the children, preferably unharmed.” Your father adds.

As your father and Lord Phantomhive continue to converse about how to deal with this particular problem, you take a moment to glance at Sebastian as he stood by his master behind his desk. His eyes were trained on the papers his master was given as he intently listens in to the conversation. Your brow furrows while you sit there, studying the butler that stood beside his master. Since he was so enwrapped in the case that lay before him and his master, you took this as an opportunity to take a different approach to finding out just who Sebastian was. If I can just see him through a different set of eyes, maybe I’ll know. Although you were usually able to sense things without any extra help, you knew that seeing things through the eyes of your mother would allow you to see far more than with your human eyes. You closed your eyes for a moment before clandestinely reopening them, hiding the now glowing, purple-red tint of your eyes. Then everything became apparent to you. You observed the dark shadow encasing Lord Phantomhive that was being emitted from Sebastian; tight dark threads connecting them to each other. 

A demon! Your eyes widened ever so slightly as you now can clearly see why Sebastian’s presence was so intriguing to you. And his master. You looked over at the young boy by his side. You quickly reverted your eyes back to their usual (Y/E/C) shade and took another glance at Lord Phantomhive with knowing eyes before tuning back into the conversation. 

“...I believe I have a plan my Lord Phantomhive, if you don’t mind”, at these words that your father spoke, you all turned your undivided attention towards him. He cleared his throat, “All the victims were families of three, yes? The parents and one child?”

“Yes father”, you answered, waiting for your father to finish presenting his idea.

“It’s simple really. We must coax our culprit into coming out by using bait. From where I’m sitting, I see a couple and a child.” 

“WHAT?!”, the rest of you yelped in surprise, all looking at one another.

Your father sipped his tea calmly before resuming, “We can only get so far with questioning and snooping. I’m sure you’re quite familiar with using yourself as bait in this line of work, my lord. Besides, time is of the essence, we’ll be sure to catch our suspect much faster by luring him out. I assure you, my daughter is quite capable; as is your butler. You will be very well protected should there be any problems, my lord.” Your father finishes, setting his tea cup back on the table.

The three of you take a moment to consider the proposal. “I’d have to agree with this idea. It is pretty efficient, my lord.” Sebastian states, rubbing his chin. 

Lord Phantomhive lets out a sigh, “Ah, very well. We will begin preparations as soon as possible. I hope you are up for this mission, my lady.” He says, looking at you.

You nodded, “If you’ll have me, my lord.” 

Your father spoke up again, “Alright so that settles it then. We will find out all we can about the killings and use you three as bait so that we may catch the murderer. Sebastian and (Y/N) will act as a loving young couple looking for a new home with their child which will be played by you, my lord.”

After a few more minutes of discussion, your father decided it was time to take leave. You were seen out by the young lord and his servants. Upon arriving outside, you let out a sigh, considering the amount of work ahead of you all. Lord Phantomhive and Sebastian followed you and your father to your carriage. After waving your goodbyes to the rest of the Phantomhive household, you then turned to the earl and his butler. The young lord gave your father a firm handshake before turning to bid you farewell. 

Sebastian first assisted your father and Adira into the carriage. You eyed him knowingly as he held out his hand, watching you through his lashes. You took his hand, trying hard to ignore what each of you were feeling and gave his hand a quick squeeze before taking a seat next to Adira. Sebastian’s eyes widened in shock at the sudden pressure, but this was quickly covered up with a sly smile. Interesting reaction. You noted to yourself. 

“We look forward to working with you my Lord.” Your father tipped his hat to the young earl, bidding his last farewells. 

Ciel and Sebastian watched as your carriage drove away. “I look forward to working with you too, Lord Herbert.” Ciel says to himself. He then turns his attention to Sebastian, “What is it with you and that girl anyway? I notice your initial reaction to her.” The young master begins to make his way back into the manor. “And what did he mean by saying she was very ‘capable’?”

“I’m keen on finding out.” Sebastian says more to himself than his master, still watching the carriage shrinking off into the distance.

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Author’s note:

Hope you guys liked it!! Don’t worry, there’s definitely more to come! If you guys have any requests or questions, feel free to message me!! In the future we will delve deeper into the reader’s origins so don’t fret!! Let me know what you guys think!! :) <3

[patchwork-panda]

If A Moment Is All We Are (30/?)

AO3 link: HERE

OP theme: HERE

“Ah, Kusunoki-san!”

I turned my attention away from my computer and looked up to see Atsushi and Kyouka arriving at our shared work area. I’d finished cleaning myself up a little and had changed into the spare clothing I’d kept in my locker and was now poring over emails before I went out for the day.

“Good morning!” Atsushi called, smiling brightly.

He dropped his bag on his desk as Kyouka quietly bobbed her head in a tiny bow behind him. I grinned and waved, my eyes on them but my mind still on Kunikida’s smile.

“Good morning Atsushi-kun, Kyouka-chan!”

I gestured to the plastic bag on my desk.

“Want some bread? The manager gave me extra, so I’ve got a few too many...”

Atsushi’s golden eyes went wide.

“Really? Can we?” he exclaimed as Kyouka immediately zipped over to my side and reached into the bag.

“Uh-huh! There’s tea and coffee too. Help yourselves.”

“Thanks!!”

As Kyouka went back to her desk, already munching on a freshly opened strawberry roll, Atsushi took his time and hung around, picking through the bag for tea.

“You look like you’re in a good mood this morning!” he said, his eyes sparkling. “Did something good happen earlier?”

“Ah, sort of?”

I fidgeted a little in my seat, my face growing warmer as I thought about the training session with Kunikida this morning.

“Yeah? Do tell.”

Without warning, a bandaged hand dropped down from above and plunged into the bag of treats I’d brought for the office.

“Oh! You’ve got ramen in here!” Dazai exclaimed, looking excited. “And it’s crab flavored, too! Don’t mind if I do.”

“Hey!”

I reached up to snatch it back but I was a second too slow.

“That’s my lunch—”

“Hmm? Instant ramen? But I thought Kunikiiiiida-kun wanted you to eat more vegetables,” Dazai said, tossing the cup of noodles up and down in the air.

“What’s it to you? Give that back!” I snapped, snatching the cup of noodles from him mid-toss.

But as I returned my attention to my computer, I felt a weight settling in near my elbow and looked back up to see Dazai actually sitting on my desk.

“You never answered my question,” he said.

His expression was suddenly gleeful, curious. He clapped his half-bandaged hands together and wiggled around in front of me like an excited schoolgirl.

“What did you and Kunikida-kun do this morning for your first time together? Did he go at it one-hundred percent? Did he pin you to the ground?”

“Dazai-san!!”

I flushed. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a piece of bread fall out of Kyouka’s mouth. Atsushi was suddenly choking on his tea.

“What kind of question is—”

“What are you doing sitting on Kusunoki’s desk, Dazai?”

I snapped my head around so fast I nearly got whiplash. The tall blonde detective had appeared just in time and for some reason, Dazai suddenly looked more gleeful than ever.

“Hey, Kunikiiiida-kun!”

Dazai hopped off my desk at once, a grin so wide it could only be described as manic stretching across his face. He skipped around my chair and threw one bandaged arm around Kunikida’s shoulders, forcing the taller man to duck down to his level.

“Perfect timing! I have a question I need to ask you!”

Kunikida sighed, looking irritated but resigned.

“What is it, Dazai-san.”

Dazai’s dark eyes glinted with mischief.

“Did you like the way she fought?”

Kunikida stared.

“Huh—?”

Something clattered to the ground and as one, Dazai, Kunikida, Atsushi and I turned to Kyouka, who’d knocked over her empty bottle of juice and was now pulling her kodachi out of her kimono.

“I can’t believe,” she said hollowly, the light fading from her ice-blue eyes, “that I thought Kunikida-san was an honest, upstanding person...”

Blood lust radiated off every inch of her tiny frame. The blade of her kodachi gleamed vividly in the light.

“But it looks like a man is just a man after all. Let me teach him a lesson for you, Kusunoki-san.”

“Wait! Kyouka-chan!” I cried, throwing myself between them as Kyouka advanced on Kunikida (who was hastily ripping a page out of his notebook) with her weapon drawn.

“This was a misunderstanding! Kunikida-san was teaching me self-defense. It was just a training session, that’s all, I swear!”

The tiny assassin hesitated, her weapon faltering in her hand.

“Really? But Dazai-san said—”

“Don’t listen to him!” I groaned as Atsushi nodded fervently and Kunikida slowly put his notebook away. “He was just trying to cause trouble so that...”

I trailed off and glanced at my desk, where the bag of ramen and snacks had suddenly disappeared along with any trace of the bandaged maniac.

“So that he could steal the rest of the food,” Atsushi sighed, slapping his palm against his face.

Seething, I hurled my notebook at the ground.

“Dazai-saaaaaan!!”

***

In the end, I never managed to hunt down Dazai or my lunch...

I sighed and hiked my bag a little higher over my shoulder, trying not to think about the horrifyingly suggestive questions Dazai had asked me and Kunikida and the way Kyouka had reacted.

Dazai, that asshole... all that just so he could steal my ramen.

I briefly thought about putting my lunch tab on him before coming to the conclusion that if I did, I’d only be adding to poor Shimeko’s worries. According to her, Dazai hadn’t paid back his tab at the Uzumaki Cafe for nearly eight months now...

Pausing to check the map on my phone, I glanced up and examined my surroundings.

Nomura said the university’s history department should be located somewhere around here, but...

I spun in a circle, looking around at the tree-lined streets and sighed.

Thanks to all the heavy greenery, it was hard to see the buildings, much less the tiny lettering embossed next to the entrances. If the map was correct, I needed to take a left here and head deeper into the campus if I wanted to reach the main library.

Shrugging, I stuck my phone back into my pocket and went left.

Right now, I knew pretty much nothing about the mysterious “Kei.” I didn’t know when he’d died, whether he’d actually killed himself, or if “Kei” even was his real name. If I wanted to get that police report, to check if Nomura had a good reason to be suspicious, then I’d need to learn Kei’s full name. And the only real lead I had so far was Kei’s connection to Professor Shin Matsuyama...

So I came here, to Nomura’s university, hoping I could find some more information on Professor Matsuyama at the history department’s library. I’d spent a couple hours doing some digging online but the professor was either highly secretive or not very well-known. If his research was on the obscure side, then there would be no way of accessing it outside the university. Moreover...

I opened my notebook, where I’d stashed some printouts before I’d gone out.

Apparently Professor Matsuyama had been a student here at the university before deciding to teach at the history department. If Nomura’s memory was correct, the professor looked to be around our age in the photograph he kept in his office. And if that was true...

I stopped before the nearest building on my right, a squat, white-tiled structure marked, “World History Department,” by a tarnished copper plaque.

...Then it was quite possible that Kei had been a student here as well.

I checked the map again and made a face.

Great. Low signal. Must be the trees...

I pressed refresh on my maps icon and waited. But even though the seconds dragged on and on, the three dots in the middle of my screen refused to fade away. I sighed and slipped my phone back into my pocket.

Guess I’ll have to ask for directions...

Unfortunately, no sooner had I picked up my feet and turned to the left than I walked right into someone mid-stride. Or rather, someone walked right into me.

“Ack—!”

I was on the ground before I even knew what hit me, my bag scuffing heavily against the ground and my butt bruising painfully beneath me. I heard the rapid clicking of thick, chunky heels hitting the pavement as the person who’d bumped into me came rushing over.

“Oh my goodness!” a woman exclaimed, her voice sounding strangely nasal and muffled. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you there.”

She knelt down at my side, folding her long, cream-colored dress beneath her legs, her light, airy clothing rustling softly as she moved.

“Are you alright?”

A pale, delicate-looking hand stretched out towards me and I looked up to see an elegant, well-dressed woman in her late thirties kneeling beside me in the dirt. She was fairly tall and slender, with long, wavy hair the color of desert sand and long lashes that curled beautifully over large, expressive dark-brown eyes. There was a strange red mark over her nose and a very thick book under her arm. As I took her hand and allowed her to pull me to my feet, I realized her voice had sounded muffled earlier because she’d been reading her book as she walked and had hit herself in the face with it when she bumped into me. However, even with the red mark over her nose, she was still very pretty.

“I’m fine,” I mumbled.

I took a moment to keep my Ability suppressed before rising to my feet.

“Thanks.”

The woman’s dark brows knitted together as she studied my face.

“Are you sure?” she asked, searching me for any sign of injury. “There’s a clinic on campus for injured students if you need any sort of treatment.”

“I’m sure,” I insisted, brushing off my clothes. “Really. I’m fine.”

“What a relief,” the woman sighed, her hand flying to her chest. “To think I could’ve hurt a student—and during exam week, no less!”

She sighed heavily, hanging her head.

“All because I had my nose in yet another book.”

“It must be a really nice book,” I said, smiling slightly.

“Oh, it is!” she gushed, flipping it over so that I could see the cover.

“...D. Keene?”

I squinted at it.

I’d never heard of this author before...

“He studies Japanese literature,” the woman said, “specifically modern Japanese literature. It’s a paperback version of one of the required reading books for the history students.”

She laughed a little as she tucked it back under her arm.

“I know it’s not the sort of book people find so fascinating that they can’t put it down but, well...”

She made a sort-of shrugging motion, her smile turning shy.

“I’m still really happy my husband is letting me borrow it for so long. Most people aren’t allowed to take university library books off campus but...”

Her eyes sparkled and I was once again struck by just how pretty she was.

“I suppose they make exceptions when you’re married to one of the faculty members.”

I studied her.

The wife of a faculty member... with special access to the history department library... It couldn’t be...

Could it?

“Which... professor are you married to?” I asked.

The elegant woman beamed at me.

“Professor Matsuyama Shin,” she said. “He teaches modern Japanese history here.”

She bobbed her head in a quick bow and I rushed to do the same.

“My name is Matsuyama Natsuki. Are you one of his students, perhaps?”

I shook my head.

“I’m actually not,” I admitted, surprising Natsuki. “But my friend, Nomura-kun, is and—”

Natsuki’s eyes widened.

“You’re one of Nomura-kun’s friends?” she asked, bringing her fingers to her lips.

I was taken aback.

“You know him?”

“Of course I know him,” Natsuki said, covering up a small laugh. “In fact, he’s very close to my husband. To be honest with you, he’s almost like a son to us. Such a kind, well-mannered boy...”

She studied me, her smile softening.

“I’m glad to see he’s making friends his own age. He comes over to the house so often that I was starting to worry he didn’t have any...”

“I see...” I said, suddenly feeling awkward.

Friends... huh?

Something about her words nagged at me, making me feel like I was forgetting something—something important in regards to Professor Matsuyama...

“...He keeps staring at this picture in his office and talking to it... When I asked him who was in this picture, he answered, ‘Natsuki and Kei...’”

I gasped.

That’s right...!

If Natsuki and Kei were both in the picture with the professor, then that meant Natsuki might know Kei. Maybe I could ask Natsuki for Kei’s full name so I could go and get that police report I needed.

But there was just one small problem with that...

I chewed my lip.

Thanks to Dazai’s meddling, I’d missed a tiny, but important detail on the first page of the case briefing. Due to the sensitive nature of the case, Nomura had requested that I try not to let any of the professor’s close friends or family know exactly what I was investigating. Made sense considering I was looking into a potential murder...

I studied the kind, friendly woman standing in front of me.

And now that I’d met Natsuki, I completely understood why. If I let the wrong thing slip, the results would be disastrous. If Nomura’s suspicions proved wrong, then I could potentially be wrecking Natsuki’s marriage for no reason. And if he was right...

I shuddered slightly.

I didn’t even want to think about what I’d have to do if he was right...

“Are you okay?” Natsuki asked, her pale brows furrowing together. “Are you cold? I could let you into a building to wait for Nomura-kun, if you’re here to meet with him.”

“Oh, no, I’m fine!” I said quickly, trying to put the smile back on my face. “Just... thinking about things...”

Natsuki blinked at me.

“Things...?”

I wasn’t going to have an opportunity like this again. I needed to ask her about Kei... but how was I going to do that without raising suspicion?

Okay, think... What would your mentors do here?

What would Kunikida do?

“Y-yeah, you know, exams, projects...” I trailed off.

Kunikida would probably go for the direct approach. He’d just ask her point blank if she knew someone by the name of “Kei,” and then prepare some way to deal with the consequences if things went south.

I crossed my arms and looked down.

No, that wasn’t going to work. I couldn’t come up with a contingency plan as fast as Kunikida could and I really wanted to spare Natsuki as much as possible.

Which meant I’d have to lie to her.

Lie... so that I could protect her...

At once, the memory came flooding back.

“I checked in with Yamazaki-san a few days ago...”

Dazai’s smile was gentle, his chocolate-brown eyes warm.

“She’s doing well... and she said to tell you ‘hi...’”

And just like that, I was back in the conference room again, sitting in a warm, well-lit room with papers scattered all around me and Dazai’s hand slowly drifting towards mine.

My arms unfurled from around my body. My hand twitched upwards; I was already reaching back. But when I lifted my head and glanced back up at the tree-lined path, it was Natsuki, and not Dazai, who was standing there before me.

I put my hand back down.

Dazai-san... Was this why he lied to me that day in the conference room...? To try to spare me the pain that he knew the truth would inevitably bring...?

My hand closed into a fist. I found myself biting the inside of my cheek.

Is this what I would have to do...?

Natsuki chuckled. She didn’t seem to have noticed a thing.

“Ah, I see,” she murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Yes, you must have a lot on your mind right now. It’s always a busy time for students, isn’t it? No matter what the season or what you’re studying...”

I nodded, a small smile creeping back onto my face as the gears began to turn.

“That’s very true,” I said, the smile on my face stretching wide. “You’d think I wouldn’t be so stressed, being just a simple art student.”

Think like Dazai. Do what he would do...

I took my phone out and flipped through my gallery. I came to the pictures of Minato Mirai and flipped the phone around so I could show them off.

Mix the truth with lies. Layer them so that it’s harder to tell where one starts and the other begins... Make it so that you can’t tell the difference between them yourself...

“I actually came out here,” I said slowly, “to take some reference pictures of the scenery. Nomura-kun said this part of campus was really nice at this time of year so I thought I’d come check it out.”

“Oh, I see!” Natsuki gasped, leaning in to take a closer look at the photos. “You’re very talented, aren’t you? Um...”

“Kusunoki,” I said, inclining my head in a slight bow.

I felt my smile soften on its own.

“My name is Kusunoki Kyou. Thank you, Matsuyama-san.”

“Just telling the truth,” Natsuki said warmly, straightening back up. “If you want to take some more pictures, you should probably head a little deeper into campus, get closer to the library. There’s a wide field out that way and a small student garden beyond that as well.”

“That sounds great,” I agreed. “But the thing is, I’m not just looking for scenery today... I’m looking for models too.”

Natsuki’s deep brown eyes went wide.

“Models?” she repeated, her hand automatically going to her hair.

I watched as she began smoothing down the wildest of her curls.

“Yeah.”

I nodded and pulled out my phone, scrolling through the apps as if I were looking to open an email or memo.

“I was asked to draw a group portrait of three adults between the ages of thirty and fifty,” I said. “The teacher specifically told us not to ask other students to sit for us because they want us to get used to drawing people all ages and body types.”

I fidgeted a little, trying not to cringe as I thought about how Dazai might ask her to sit for a drawing. He’d probably flirt with her in some grandiose, over-the-top way and then ask her to commit double suicide with him, that maniac...

No, I had a better idea...

“If you don’t mind my saying so,” I mumbled, looking away. “You seem very nice and... I feel comfortable asking you this since you also know Nomura-kun.”

I glanced back up.

“Would you mind letting me draw you and your husband?”

“Not at all!” Natsuki exclaimed, looking flattered. “But I thought you needed three people?”

I nodded again.

“Yes, I do. Do you or your husband happen to have a friend who wouldn’t mind coming over to the campus park for an hour or two? Someone around your age?”

“Ah...”

At this, Natsuki grew quiet. She lowered her eyes.

“About that...”

A shadow crossed her beautiful face and she smiled.

“It’s funny that you should make such a request, Kusunoki-san,” she said, her smile growing wistful. “I actually know just the man to ask.”

I balked.

“Y-you do?”

“Yes.”

Her dark brown eyes flitted back up towards mine.

“But sadly...”

Her lips twitched, as if she was holding something back, something that looked an awful lot like tears. I felt my stomach clenching tightly as I saw the look on her face.

“I cannot ask him to meet with you. You see...”

She closed her eyes and sighed.

“He is no longer with us.”

“I... I see...”

Oh no...

Guilt flooded through my body. I felt the knot in my stomach tightening as Natsuki heaved a breathless sigh and stared up at the leaves that were beginning to rustle overhead. Her eyes seemed to shine with tears...

“I’m so sorry, Matsuyama-san,” I stammered, fidgeting in my bag for my handkerchief. “I shouldn’t have asked—! I didn’t mean to—”

“No, it’s okay,” Natsuki said graciously, her gaze still firmly fixed on the swaying branches above us. “You couldn’t have known.”

Her eyes met mine at last.

“How could you have? When we’ve only just met?”

Yes, how indeed? I thought with another stab of guilt as I pulled the handkerchief out at last.

But I offered it to her, Natsuki waved it away, her smile more gracious than ever.

“I’m alright, thank you,” she said, looking touched. “It’s very sweet of you to be so concerned about a complete stranger like me, Kusunoki-san. Your friends must be very fortunate indeed.”

This time, it was my turn to look away.

Friends...

I’d cut off contact with everyone I knew when I’d become a shut-in all those months ago. Now, the only people I was close with were my coworkers at the ADA. But did they think of me as a friend as well...?

“I... I guess so,” I mumbled, unable to meet her eyes.

Natsuki chuckled, prompting me to look back up.

“You seem easy to talk to, Kusunoki-san,” Natsuki said, tucking her hair back behind her ears as the wind began to pick up once again. “Like a good listener... Perhaps I could tell you about him one day...”

My mouth was as dry as cotton. I could hear my heart beating loudly in my ears.

I felt my lips slowly forming the words.

“Tell me about... who?”

Natsuki smiled.

“Kei.”

The wind began to howl. I clutched my jacket to my body as it tore through the tree-lined path. Leaves and dust and gravel scattered everywhere and I opened my eyes just in time to see a deluge of leaves descend from the heavens in a shower of glittering gold and green. Natsuki looked back at me through the storm.

“Our dearly departed friend Masaoka Kei...”

[uncloseted]

what are you thoughts on cocaine? if i wanna try it, can i be addicted by taking it only once? and what are the actual effects? how does it feel like?

On the scale of safe to dangerous, cocaine is on the more dangerous side (apologies that the chart is a bit old, but it’s the only one I could find that laid it out in an easy-to-understand format).  If you want to experiment with drugs, you’d be better off trying hallucinogens or MDMA.  Whether you’ll become addicted after taking it once is up in the air and depends primarily on how you’re wired as a person.  If you’re interested in drugs as a way to escape a problem in your life (including, but not limited to, anxiety and depression), you’re at a much higher risk for addiction than if you’re doing drugs recreationally at a party.  If you find yourself engaging in perfectionistic, compulsive, or addictive behavior when it comes to other things (school/work, video games, food, caffeine), you’re at a higher risk for addiction.  If you have family members who are addicts, you’re at a higher risk for addiction.  Cocaine is on the more addictive side of things, which is one of the reasons it’s a more dangerous choice than MDMA or hallucinogens.  If you have any type of heart of vascular condition, cocaine (and MDMA) are ones to skip, since they increase heart rate and blood pressure.

In terms of what it feels like and what it does, it’s kind of hard to describe the exact feeling, but cocaine creates feelings of euphoria, self confidence, well being, and sociability.  It makes you feel alert, powerful, and energetic.  It can also create anxiety, paranoia, and agitation.  Physically, it raises your body temperature, so it’s important to stay hydrated if you take it.

Other harm reduction type things you should keep in mind when doing any drugs:

- Know what you’re getting.  Some drugs look like one thing but turn out to be another or turn out to be laced with something else.  You can get testing kits online that can help you figure out if the drug you were sold is what you think it is or not.

- Have a sober companion. Having someone around who’s in a sober state can help to prevent anything really bad from happening.

- Don’t mix. Combining drugs can increase risk to your system, and so can mixing drugs with alcohol.  In this case, “combining” is taking any drug/medication/alcohol up to 24 hours before another drug. This includes any prescription medication you might be taking.  SSRIs, anti-depressants, and anti-anxiety medications commonly have interactions with other drugs, so you have to be careful.  It also includes any supplements you might take.  For cocaine in particular, avoid mixing with other stimulants (like MDMA/ecstasy) since it magnifies the vascular impact, alcohol, MAOI antidepressants, the anticonvulsant carbamazepine, lithium, SSRIs (may cause brain haemorrhage), and the atypical antipsychotic risperidone.

- Go slow and know your dose. Make sure to research the correct dosing for any drug you might be thinking about taking, and then take less of it than is recommended.  You can always take more if you’re not feeling an effect, but you can’t take less.  Also make sure that you’re taking the right dose for you.  Body weight, height, and gender can impact how drugs are metabolized in our systems, and so what works for your friend may be too much for you (although some drugs, like hallucinogens, are not weight dependent).  Don’t try to compete with other people to see who can do the most.  Along with that, it’s important to know how long the drug takes to “hit”.  Sometimes people fall into the trap of waiting a few minutes, deciding the dose they took isn’t going to do anything, and then take more, which results in them having too much of the drug in their system.  Again, it’s important to go slow.  Take more time than you think you might need before taking another dose.

- Write everything you’ve taken down and never lie to paramedics. In the event that things do go south, you want to be able to tell the paramedics everything you’ve taken, in what doses, and how long ago so that they can treat you.  Paramedics will not report you to the authorities for taking illegal drugs; they just want to treat you.  If you’re ever in a situation where someone is having a bad reaction to a drug or overdosing, call the paramedics. You won’t get in trouble and you can save a life.  

- Do it somewhere safe, and give yourself time. Preferably in a house, without a ton of dangerous items around, where you are unlikely to encounter the police or disapproving adults.  Whether or not you agree with it, in most countries doing drugs is illegal, and you don’t want a court case on your hands.  Drug addiction ruins lives, but so does being arrested for drug possession (in the US, at least), and being arrested happens more frequently.  You also want this environment to be one in which you feel relaxed and where nothing disturbing or scary is likely to happen.  You also want to make sure that there are no time pressures on you for more than the duration of the drug- clear at least your entire day just in case.

For cocaine in particular, here are some harm reduction tips to keep in mind:

- Take care of your nose. Dilute it with water before snorting and rinse your nose with water after, insert the straw deeper into your nasal passage so that the powder doesn’t get stuck in your nose hairs, alternate nostrils, and make sure that the cocaine is chopped into a fine powder.  Use a straw instead of a dollar bill, and don’t share it with others. With too much usage, cocaine can create damage to your nasal tissue, so you want to be careful. 

- Know the signs of overdose. These include blue or extremely pale face, difficulty breathing, vomiting, foaming at the mouth, seizures, and chest pain.

Ultimately, whether you want to try it or not is up to you.  Just be aware of the risks and take precautions so that you’re as safe as possible.  Will you be fine if you don’t do any of the things I suggested? Maybe. But I’d hate for you to get into a bad situation that was easily preventable.

[eddiekaspbrxks]

@eddieklapbak​: Hi :) i love your fics and I’ve only read a couple of them ( i need to read more ) but i was wondering if you’d be interested in writing a reddie fic where eddie gets a really bad flu and hes pissed about it because hes eddie but richie comes in hot taking really good care of him and shit ??? If that’s too fluffy or boring dont worry about it

(i redirected this to my sideblog for organisation’s sake, I hope that’s okay)

Word Count: 1281

AO3 link in notes

Eddie Kaspbrak supposes that one would expect, were someone to go on a week-long skiing trip with his six best friends, and were they to come down with a cold sent directly from hell—an analogy Eddie hadn’t ever expected to use, but which after ten hours lying in bed with a headache and a hacking cough seemed rather fitting—for their boyfriend to take care of them. One wouldn’t have expected, though, that Eddie would come down with a cold (him, of all the fucking people—Bev shared cigarettes with anyone she met, and Richie, god knows, probably hadn’t washed his hands in months), or that, when it happened, the boyfriend in question would be Richie Tozier. Richie and medication wasn’t a combination he’d exactly fantasized about, and he wasn’t sure that it was going to work out without at least a heart attack and maybe a very, very small house fire.

Or a fucking huge one, who knows. There’s no overestimating Richie.

“So,” Richie cries in a British accent, walking into the room with Eddie’s toiletry bag nestled in his arms, “come on then, talk me through this.” He unzips the bag—it’s “almost as big as your suitcase,” Stan had said, (which is ridiculous, it’s a solid quarter at most, and bright red, just in case Eddie’s in a hurry and needs to see it from a mile away (or in case Richie needs to find it, because holy shit that kid is blind, but he doesn’t seem to be showing any appreciation for Eddie’s color-picking skills at the moment), and dumps the contents onto the bed.

“Dude, careful with that—if you break my aspirator, I swear to god—” Eddie cries, leaping up a little and then grimacing when his head throbs.

“Hate to break it to you, Eddie Spaghetti, but you’ve got bigger issues right now than your made-up asthma.”

“Shut up, your fucking nasal voice is making my head hurt,” Eddie moans, covering his face with his hands.

“I’m serious, Eds,” Richie says, face mock solemn. “Your worst fears have come true. This is what you’ve been protecting yourself from your whole life, and alas, your brave efforts have gone to waste. Edward,” he places a hand on Eddie’s shoulder, “I hate to be the one to tell you this, but I’m not sure you’re going to make it out of this alive.”

“It’s a cold, man.”

“I know!” Richie cries, like a proud parent. “The first cold of your life! You’re finally growing up.” Eddie kicks him halfheartedly, to which Richie pleads in his Southern Belle voice “Please forgive me, Eddie, light of my life, oh please, I’ll die if you’re mad at me, just die!” He collapses  in a fit of giggles.

Eddie stares at him, dumbfounded. “You know I broke my arm when I was thirteen, right? You were there?”

“Oh, was that when the demon clown attacked us?” Richie’s eyebrows knit together, and Eddie resists both the urge to roll his eyes and the urge to grin like an idiot. “Huh, I must have forgotten.”

Eddie laughs a little. “Okay, my medication. Let’s see if you know what to do.”

“Oh, I don’t think I could go two years living with you without all of that rubbing off on me,” Richie says sweetly.

“I’m nothing if not influential.”

“No, I was thinking more like a pubic rash. I mean, we’ve done plenty of rubbing—”

“Holy fucking shit, beep beep, Trashmouth.”

“Alright, I’m just saying—”

“I wasn’t kidding when I said your voice was giving me a headache, and I’m much too poor and sickly to get a pill myself, so come on, pass them over.”

Richie shuffles through the pile clumsily, making Eddie cringe. “A ha!” he cries, pulling out a little bottle. Eddie notes the color of the cap, the shape of the letters familiar in his head. Richie picks up the glass of water he’d brought with the toiletry bag and holds it out to Eddie along with the pill. “Come on, eat up. As much as I’d love to do the whole here comes the airplane spiel, you seem to think you still have a dignity to be hurt, and I’d never deprive you of that fantasy—”

“That’s aspirin, you dumbass,” Eddie says, putting a hand in front of his mouth to stop Richie doing just that. “You’re not supposed to take it with a cold.”

“But it’s aspirin. It’s for headaches, that’s how aspirin works. You take it, your headache goes away. Right?”

“Yeah, but it’s not good for colds. Something to do with, like, your sinuses, or something. Give me the panadol, that’ll help.”

“Why are we here? To suffer? When did they make medicine complicated?”

“Why isn’t Ben in here? Ben would shut up when I tell him to.”

“Aw, you would never tell me to shut up, Eddie baby.”

“Shut up. Just, shut up. There.”

Richie pouts. “For that, I’m doing the airplane schtick.”

“Oh, my god,” Eddie groans.

“Open up!” Richie sings, pinching the pill between his thumb and index finger. “Come on, open the airport, here we come! Vrrrrrrrrrrr…”

“I will not, give me that—”

“ Vrrrr... c’mon,, or the little passengers won’t be able to get off in your little mouth!”

“Richie, what the fuck, only you could make this game disgusting.”

“Aw, you love it, Eds,” Richie says, and he pounces on Eddie, tickling his sides. Eddie bursts out laughing, kicking at him, and suddenly they’re kids again, wrestling in a hammock, taking any excuse to touch each other.

Eddie coughs, and the moment stops, his head throbbing from the movement. “Fuck,” he breathes, coughing again, voice raspy. Richie’s up in a second, grabbing the glass of water and placing it in Eddie’s hands.

“Here. Breathe slow, hyperventilating will make it worse, I think.”

“I know how a fucking cold works, Rich—” he says, but another cough rises up.

Richie holds his hand until the coughing fit passes, and then Eddie lies back.

“God, I hate this,” Eddie mumbles, careful not to raise his voice for fear that another coughing fit starts. “I can’t believe I’m stuck in here.”

“Hey, it’ll be great,” Richie says softly, laying next to Eddie and laying his head on his shoulder. “Who wants to be out there skiing when you could be lying bedridden and, fuck, and, uh, bedraggled, with me?”

“I think you think I like you more than I actually do.”

“Aw, I know you love me,” Richie says, and Eddie doesn’t have to look to tell that he’s grinning.

“Sure, keep telling yourself that, man.”

“Oh, I will,” Richie says, and leans over, pressing his lips to Eddie’s.

“I’m sick, dimwit. Deathly.”

“You know I’d risk death for you, Eddie Spaghetti.” Eddie rolls his eyes, but he’s grinning, too, and he leans in and kisses Richie again.

“Fine, I guess I love you,” Eddie concedes.

Richie raises his eyebrows. “That’s two Kaspbraks I’ve heard that from, now.”

“How are you an adult?”

“Get it? Because your mom—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie says, cutting him off. And Richie beams, all scruffy elbows and messy edges and Eddie can’t believe that there could ever be a universe where they hadn’t found each other.

A/N: there's a decent chance that the whole aspirin bit is bullshit,,, i did about five minutes of research on this and some websites said do NOT take aspirin and some said nothing so imma just put it in oops

[amandaoftherosemire]

No Mistakes...

Fandom: Marvel AU

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader

Characters: Steve Rogers, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff, Bucky Barnes, Bruce Banner

Author: @amandaoftherosemire​

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 6,279

Format: Two-part One-Shot

Warnings: Language, mild embarrassment, chemical intoxication

Summary: After a lab accident leaves you under the influence of a chemical cocktail, you can no longer hide your deeper feelings for your dearest friend, Steve. You’ve never told him, convinced he would be kind, but uninterested. Little do you know…

A/N: I have a deep need for all the fluff at the moment, so I thought I’d throw my sweetheart Steve some love. This is pure candy, something sweet and fluffy and attempting to be funny. I will be adding a second part, but this can be read by itself.

No Mistakes

Steve burst through the doors into the medical wing with his heart racing in terror. Not much could frighten him, but the news you’d been in some kind of lab accident had done the trick.

“Heeey, Cap!” Clint stepped in front of Steve, nearly getting bowled over in the process. Still, he dug in his heels and stopped Steve’s forward progress with an effort. Nat had given him a task, so he was gonna do it.

“Where’s y/n? Is she okay? What happened?” Clint smirked at the sound of Steve trying to sound authoritative despite the wobble in his voice. Maybe they should let the two of you hang out after all.

“There was an explosion in the lab.” Clint had his hands on Steve’s chest, holding him back from pushing through the last door to see you, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. Only Steve's natural inclination toward courtesy under almost all circumstances kept him from pushing Clint to the side to see you for himself.

Your friendship wasn't one of those things that had happened quickly, his natural shyness and your reserve keeping you from having a conversation about anything but work for weeks after you’d started to work with Bruce in the lab. Instead, it was something that grew slowly, over time, like a crystal, each atom falling perfectly into place to create a stable structure. It may not have been romantic, but Captain America had taught Steve how hollow romance could be.

Steve didn't know when he started seeking your company above all others, but by the time he noticed, you were one of his dearest and closest friends. He trusted you, knew he could count on you. Despite the fact that he’d never said it aloud, he adored you, and the thought that you might be hurt had him frantic.

"An explosion!?" He didn’t realize he was leaning against Clint’s restraining hands, trying to see around the window in the door in an attempt to get a glimpse of you.

“Steve, calm down.” Clint couldn’t keep the amusement out of his voice or off his face. If he hadn’t promised Nat he’d keep Steve out, he’d let the man go. He was certain Steve in this mood interacting with you in your current predicament would be the funniest thing he’d seen all week. “She's okay; she wasn't harmed, and the effects will wear off in a few hours.”

“A few hours!? What the hell happened!?” Steve was relieved to hear that you were unharmed, but deeply perturbed by all of the information he didn’t have. He'd be more relieved by Clint's apparent lack of concern, but Clint was relentlessly casual regardless of the circumstances. Steve couldn't be sure you were okay until he saw for himself.

Is that Steve!?

Steve felt the muscles in his neck relax and he stopped pushing so hard on Clint when, thanks to his enhanced hearing, he heard your voice. On the other hand, he'd never heard you sound quite like that. You sounded happy, excitable, downright bubbly.

No. Bucky, however, sounded as he often did. Downright surly. Except he had a soft spot for you, so he generally spoke much more gently than this stern and irritated denial. Steve didn't know why Bucky would lie to you, as he could undoubtedly hear Steve with as much ease as Steve could hear him. But now that he'd heard you speak, relief let Steve ease back to gather information.

Actually looking at Clint for the first time, Steve frowned. "What effects?"

The next moment, Steve's head was snapping up at the sound of your voice, louder, closer, and much more demanding. I wanna see Steve! You sounded offended, like someone was trying to stop you.

The next words out of Bucky didn't make sense, but made your tone make more sense. Can someone muzzle her before he hears this? He's right the fuck outside. Steve didn't know why, but it appeared that your friends and teammates had decided that the two of you should be kept apart for the moment. He was fascinated.

Clint was answering Steve's question, unaware that he was also listening to the conversation going on in the other room. "She got, like, a face full of the stuff she was messing with." At this Steve became concerned once more. You worked in R & D, specializing in organic chemistry. 'Stuff' could be all sorts of things.

"Banner said it messed with her brain so some parts that should be dark are lit up and parts that should be lit up are dark. All together it means she has no fear, no inhibitions, no verbal filter, and, at least for now, the cheerful disposition of a happy drunk, unless…" The look of horror that had overtaken Steve's face at the description of the accident faded to a look of sympathetic humor. He'd seen you intoxicated. If this was anything like that, you were acting the holy terror even as they spoke.

Clint grinned and finished, "Nat decided she should be isolated as much as possible."

Stevie's so good, and pretty, and…oof! Under the singsong of your voice, Steve could hear his best friend muttering even as he sounded like he was struggling with something.

"Then why is Bucky in there?" With that Steve made to push past Clint. Now that he had the lay of the land, he was fully prepared to go help. You were infinitely precious to him; he'd hardly go back to the rest of his day when you'd had an accident and needed someone to take care of you. When Clint stopped him again, he reacted with exasperation. "What!?"

"That's probably not a good idea." Clint was having a very hard time making himself care anymore. If Nat hadn't explicitly told him to not let Steve through the doors, he'd take him back personally. He knew it'd be more fun than this.

"Okay," Steve demanded, "what's going on?"

Apparently, his voice was now loud enough to carry to you, as he heard you chirp happily through the door. Steve!?

"She'd be embarrassed if you heard some of the things she's saying." Clint was super proud of himself for telling the truth without giving too much away. Nat had also forbidden him from telling Steve what exactly you'd been saying to get him banned from you. "She's basically tanked."

Steve! Natasha is annoying me! Under the nasal, tattle-tale sound of your voice came the sound of a scuffle. Steve was pretty sure now that you weren't in any danger. He wasn't sure, however, whether he wanted to know what was going on anymore.

A laugh in his voice, he asked, "I've spent plenty of time with her when she was drunk; why is this different?"

"Steve! Now she's hitting me, too! Now she's trying to muffle my screams, STEVE!"

At the sound of your clearly audible voice being muffled by what sounded like a pillow, Clint raised his brows and looked up, chuckling. "You could hear her the whole time, couldn't you?"

Steve just nodded and pulled Clint away from the door. He had heard the unmistakable sounds of your escape and sprint down the hall. Based on the slap of running bare feet on tile, he expected you to come barreling through the door in three… two… one…

"SSSSTTTTEEEEVVVVIIIIEEEE!!!!!!" He didn't expect, however, for you to launch yourself into his arms. Because he wasn't expecting it, he caught you a lot closer than he would normally. You practically climbed him as you wrapped around him in a happy hug.

Though he knew he should, he couldn't seem to make himself extricate himself from your embrace, even as he realized you were less clothed than he'd ever seen you. It seemed to be a day for firsts.

For example, you noisily and happily kissed Steve all over his face as you babbled. "You’re so pretty! Look at how pretty you are! And you’re sweet and good and kind and I’m so glad you’re my friend." With one last smacking kiss on Steve's shocked mouth, you dropped to your feet. With barely a pause, you started out. "I’m hungry. Let’s eat."

Steve cleared his throat, not sure how to react to anything that had just happened. To his surprise, the question he heard himself ask was "Why don’t you put your pants on first, doll?"

You didn't even glance backward, let alone pause. "Why?"

With one last baffled look at the other three, Steve followed you out.

As soon as the door closed behind him, Clint burst into gales of delighted laughter. Nat had a half-smile even as she rolled her eyes at him. Bucky was scowling. If they were just going to let you go off with Steve without even an attempt to stop you, why the hell had he spent the last half hour wrestling with your squirmy ass?

"Well," Clint said, philosophically, wiping a tear of joy from his eye, "we tried."

Natasha lifted an amused brow. "We did?"

Clint laughed. "We tried just hard enough to escape any blame for the consequences."

This last sentiment had Bucky finally grinning. "Indeed, we did."

Steve managed to convince you to go to his rooms instead of the communal kitchen, and in the process discovered the difficulties that Nat, Bucky, and Clint had dealt with while Bruce had examined you. Bucky had been ready to throttle you by the time Bruce pronounced you temporarily a pain in the ass, but ultimately unharmed.

The chemicals you'd been experimenting with, and which had literally blown up in your face, had temporary effects on the brain that affected behavior, but would wear off in time. Your meticulous research notes were helpful, even if you were not, and Bruce could state with certainty that you were perfectly safe, at least physically. He made no promises as to the psychological damage embarrassment might do.

The most concerning thing, and why you needed supervision, was that your amygdala were acting bizarre, the right all but dormant while the left flipped on and off seemingly at random. This meant that your emotions were completely unpredictable, and if that wasn't enough, you literally could not feel fear until the chemical cocktail wore off.

The inability to feel fear meant you were a lot more reckless than normal, and thus a danger to yourself in the meantime. There were also oddities in your frontal lobe, possibly explaining your complete lack of impulse control. Taken together, you were still yourself, but without any filters whatsoever and with sudden bursts of positive emotion.

If you'd known what exactly that meant, you'd have been wearing a full face mask with a respirator while you worked with what you should have considered the most dangerous chemicals of your life.

You felt loose, floaty, utterly relaxed. Your mind was at rest in a way you’d never before experienced. Half the time you were interacting with the world but felt like it couldn’t touch you. It wasn’t a bad feeling, simply detached.

The other half, you were happy to the point of euphoria, like you could punch through the sky if you needed to. You were living in the moment in a way you never had before, and it was completely freeing. With no fear, you weren't thinking in terms of consequences.

When you had a thought, you said it. When you had an impulse, you acted on it.

You were probably going to want to move to another planet when the chemicals wore off.

Because, as Clint, Nat, and Bucky had discovered today and tried to help you keep secret, you had an all-consuming crush on Steve Rogers. Any number of your thoughts were sappily sweet and made Clint gag. A lot of the others were filthy to the point of pornographic and made Bucky think that he’d be happy to comfort you if Steve decided to be stupid.

Nat had already known that you were in love with Steve. Duh. She hadn’t known how creatively obscene your imagination was, but she hadn’t really wanted to, either.

You were scanning Steve’s books while he texted Bucky for help. He needed to feed you before you got it into your head to go looking for sustenance. In the short time he’d been responsible for you, he’d discovered why the others had looked so frazzled. The only way to stop you from doing anything was to physically restrain you. Steve was trying to avoid that as long as you remained clothed in only a t-shirt and underwear.

You'd gone into this strange mode when he'd asked what you wanted to eat, blank and detached. Knowing Bucky would be happy to fetch the food if he didn't have to supervise you anymore, Steve had sent him out for whatever was fastest.

You’d shrugged in response to questions as to what kind of food you wanted and wandered off to stare out the window for several minutes before you moved on to his bookshelf. Steve really wanted to get you seated. Maybe then he could get you covered before you caught him staring at your legs (not to mention your ass).

"Do you want to watch TV while we wait for food?"

You didn't look at him, in one of those phases where the world seemed far too distant to matter. Steve could be staring openly, and you probably wouldn't notice, let alone give a shit. You were intent on Steve's books, looking for something, anything, that could inspire some feeling. It was odd to not have an opinion on anything. "I don’t care."

"Is everything okay?" Steve stepped up next to you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder to draw your attention to him. To his surprise, you didn’t look at him, but your body seemed to automatically sway towards his touch.

You murmured a response but closed your eyes at the warmth of Steve's hand on your arm. "Mm-hmm." The sound of your voice was a purr on the assent. You were feeling now, and it was irresistible.

You had an impulse, so you acted on it.

With another purr, you turned into Steve, sliding your arms around his waist and burying your face in his chest. You breathed in his scent, glorying in the smell of citrus, leather, and pine. Whatever cologne or deodorant he used, you were a huge fan. You rubbed your face back and forth, reveling in the feel against your cheeks of soft cotton over firm muscle.

Steve was absolutely astonished to find you twined around him like a vine. Of all the things he expected, your body wrapping around his before he had a chance to process it was not one of them. His arms came around you automatically, without his conscious thought, but as soon as he had you wrapped close and murmuring happily he wasn't going to let go. Though you and he were close friends, you'd always maintained a careful physical distance between you. He laughed a little when he heard what you were almost cooing.

"I knew it." You hummed and snuggled closer. "I knew it'd be like heaven in a bear hug. My good, kind, pretty Steve." You sighed the last, utterly enraptured by the glory of being held by Steve for the first time. You'd dreamed more than once of what it would be like to be wrapped in his arms, bathing in the scent, the heat of his skin. You'd never thought to find out, too sure you'd only make him uncomfortable should you try to change the dynamic of your friendship.

Unwilling to risk losing the most vital relationship you had, you'd been meticulous in your efforts to make sure Steve always knew that you valued him without ever giving any indication that you were half-in-love and all-the-way-in-lust with him. Until today, you'd been mostly successful.

Steve was doing everything he could to remind himself that you were under the influence of chemicals that had changed your brain activity. Nothing you said or did could be taken at face value, no matter how he wanted to believe that you felt about him the same way he felt about you.

He felt guilty, but he couldn't stop himself from reveling in your changed demeanor. No matter how he scolded himself, he didn't try to stop you from snuggling closer. Rather, his arms tightened, and his head dipped to press his lips against your hair. "Y/N?" You didn't answer, too busy melting in the heat from Steve's body, the pure pleasure of it distracting you completely.

"Sweetheart?" he tried again, this time prompting a hum of acknowledgement even as your hands slid slowly up the muscles of his back. "Why are you being so affectionate?"

To his surprise, you answered immediately, and it sounded as though you were speaking the plain and unvarnished truth. "I always want to," you sighed, and turned your face into his neck to brush your lips across the skin of his throat. "I don't because I'm afraid, but I adore you. I want to show you all the time."

Steve was astonished. He'd had no idea. You'd never, by word or by deed, indicated that you wanted anything more than friendship from him. He was sure he would have noticed, too aware of everything about you to have missed any signal. He had to wonder if he was misinterpreting your answer. "What are you afraid of?"

"Oh, you know," you sounded vaguely amused, but largely unconcerned. "Rejection, humiliation, heartbreak, failure. The usual." You started moving gently against him, brushing your body against his, your mind almost blank but for the pleasure of Steve's scent fogging your brain, his warmth melting your bones.

Steve couldn't speak for a moment, not expecting the purely carnal rush your undulating body would inspire inside him. His fingers dug into the skin of your back reflexively in response before he made himself loosen his hold. "But you're not afraid now." It was a statement, a reminder to himself that you had taken a face full of chemicals that left you vulnerable. He was taking advantage of that by asking you these questions right now.

Your voice was a sultry whisper as you slipped your arms around Steve's neck, sliding your hands into his hair. "As a matter of fact, I'm not." The next thing he knew, you were using your leverage to pull your lips to his and he was sinking into the heaven of your kiss.

He'd dreamed, fantasized a thousand times about how your lips would feel against his, how your mouth would taste. Now that he had an answer, he realized how limited those questions had been. He could write sonnets to the softness of your lips, the spice of your mouth. But he also hadn't considered the sweetness of your sighs as he tasted your breath, or the velvet of your tongue as it pressed against his.

Steve's conscience cleared its throat. "Okay," he said, breaking the kiss and panting. "Okay, this is…" He trailed off as, denied his mouth, you opted for the salt of his skin and fastened your teeth around his throat. You weren't thinking any more, awash in sensation, giving in to the desire that coursed through you.

"Wonderful…" he whispered, stretching his neck to give you better access. It almost hurt to restrain his hands from wandering down to close around your ass. He wanted you like air. "But we have to stop…" He was groaning the words as he reached up to pull your hands from around his neck. He stepped back, the temptation of your eyes heavy-lidded with desire and lips swollen from his kiss almost too much.

"Why?" You pouted and stepped forward to bring your body against his once more. His belly tightened with lust.

The pout on your mouth, coupled with the undulation of your body against his broke his will, if only for a moment. Steve gave into temptation and leaned forward to close his teeth around your lower lip. You hummed happily and sank back into the kiss. Lost in the moment, lost in him, you gave yourself up to it, overjoyed to discover that Steve wanted you, too.

Steve's conscience was getting impatient. He lifted his hand to your cheek and drew his mouth away. Putting his forehead against yours, he gasped for breath. "Because…" He trailed off again when you slid your hand under the hem of his shirt and gently brushed your fingertips along the skin of his hip. You giggled, happy that you could so easily distract him.

Steve shuddered out a breath and resisted the urge to take your mouth again. He tried again. "Because…" He didn't get far before you were twining around him once more, running your hands over his back under his shirt.

Steve was genuinely grateful to hear the knock at the door. He was having a very hard time resisting you. You seemed perfectly lucid, making it hard for him to remember that you were not thinking clearly. Almost desperately, he tried to gently extricate himself from your silken limbs. "Because Bucky's here with food."

"I don't want food." As you spoke, Bucky walked in carrying a couple of pizza boxes. You didn't acknowledge him, too lost in Steve. You stepped forward once more, this time to snuggle against him. "I want you." Your eyes were liquid and soft as you looked at Steve. He froze, caught in the expression on your face. He ached to ask you what that expression meant, but held himself back, knowing it wasn't fair.

Bucky laughed as he dropped the pizza on the coffee table in front of the couch. His eyes crinkled in delighted humor, he chuckled immoderately and called out as he turned to leave, "Good luck with that, punk!" He couldn't wait to tell Sam about this.

Not thinking, Steve wrapped his arms back around you. He couldn't seem to stop himself. "You could help, jerk!"

Your voice was muffled, but the amusement came through loud and clear. "I didn't think threesomes would be your thing, Steve, but I'm willing to hear your thoughts on the subject."

Bucky laughed again, his enhanced hearing easily catching your words. He turned around, shrugging amiably. "If that's the kind of help you need--"

Steve simply raised a brow. "Thank you, Buck. Good-bye now."

Bucky's cheek lifted in a cocky half-smile and he shrugged again, this time philosophically and turned back to the door. "Let me know if she changes your mind," he called out as he made his exit.

Steve rubbed his big, warm palm up and down your spine, making you feel like you were melting again. "Will you come sit with me, sweetheart?"

The endearment made your heart beat fast and your throat close. In the next moment, you'd switched off. Docile and apathetic, you didn't resist or protest when Steve guided you to the couch. You ate when he handed you a slice of pizza, but you did so because you were hungry, not because you took any pleasure in the act. Steve put on the television for noise, not really paying attention to what was playing, and sat quietly next to you, eating pizza and watching you stare into space.

"You've gone away again, haven't you?" Steve found it fascinating to watch you turn on and off. When you were in this detached mode, he could see where you went when you were working. Coldly logical to the point of indifference when in the lab, he'd been astonished the first time he'd spent time with you outside of work and had found the warm woman he'd come to adore underneath.

"Mm-hmm." You murmured the assent as you had your mouth full of pizza. You were on your second piece, but you could feel yourself getting full. Since nothing but hunger kept you going, your movements automatically slowed. You were staring at the television, but you weren't really seeing it. It was a Friends rerun. Even if you hadn't seen it, which you probably had, you weren't in a headspace where you could begin to give a shit about it.

Steve frowned at the blank expression on your face, starting to get concerned by your demeanor. "Sweetheart," he said softly, and the endearment caught your attention in a way nothing else had, "do you feel okay?"

"I don't feel anything," you replied easily as you polished off your pizza.

Steve found it deeply unsettling to hear you say something so disturbing in such an offhand tone, but it was the emotionless gaze you turned on him that actually chilled him. He hadn't realized how warm your eyes normally were when they met his until they weren't anymore. Without thinking, he lifted his hand to your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek.

The heat of his hand as it pressed against your face and neck, the feel of his fingers tangling in your hair, seemed to flip that switch inside your brain. Your eyes fluttered closed in pleasure, but not before Steve saw them begin to warm and glow. In the next moment, you were climbing into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck and tucking your face into his throat.

Steve saw his chance and snagged the blanket behind him across the back of the couch. He threw it over you, then wrapped his arms tightly around you, partly to keep you close, partly to keep you covered. You sighed happily and snuggled deeper into his chest, snuffling at his neck like a puppy and making him laugh.

"I love how you smell," you whispered, the longing in your voice bringing an ache to Steve's throat.

He cleared his throat, trying to ignore the desire that coursed through him at the feel of your breath on his skin. "We're going to have some interesting conversations in the near future."

Your mouth was against his skin as you replied, and you could feel the shudder of arousal that worked through him at the sensation. "About what?"

Steve took a trembling breath, trying and failing to put the feel of your lips against his skin out of his mind. "About us," he murmured, his voice low with barely restrained need.

"I like the sound of that." Steve could hear the smile in your voice and knew that if he could see your face, you'd be wearing his favorite soft expression. His arms tightened around you in pure affection. "You know," you went on, sounding even happier, "nothing has made me feel better all day. Except you."

"I feel that way about you all the time." The words were out of Steve's mouth before he thought better of them. He held his breath, waiting for your response.

You sighed, both sweet and melancholy. "If I let myself, I could fall hard for you, Steve." You laughed a little. "Hell, I'm already crazy about you. You're the best person I've ever known." As you spoke, your voice got drowsier and more slurred, until you went completely limp against him.

"Y/N? Are you okay?" were the last words you heard before you fell asleep like a toddler, completely and seemingly instantaneously.

You woke slowly, warm and comfortable, contented in a way you couldn't remember ever experiencing before. You were cradled in arms, against a wall of a chest, that was both solid and gentle. The warmth from his body had settled into your bones, leaving you pliant and relaxed. He seemed to be sleeping, too, and for some reason that charmed you more than anything else. Steve had fallen asleep while holding you. Heart eyes, motherfucker.

That said, now that you were awake, and as far as you could tell, clear-headed, you were also completely, utterly, and catastrophically humiliated. You had broadcast your deepest darkest secret to two of the worst possible people. (Natasha didn't count; she already knew. Honestly, you'd have been surprised if she hadn't.)

You had ended up parading around half-naked and all because of some random impulse you'd had and a weirdly stubborn insistence on following through. They had had to restrain you, and to be fair, they'd been right to do so. You had not been in any condition to do anything but sit down until the drugs wore off.

To top it all off, you'd thrown yourself at Steve with no shame. You'd told him how you felt with no filters. And you'd offered yourself to him with no conditions. He had graciously declined, albeit with good reason, but part of you resented how easily, it seemed, he resisted.

You wondered if you could sneak off his lap and back to the medical wing to check your brain without waking Steve. You knew you'd have to deal with what happened earlier, but you kind of wanted a minute to yourself to take stock before you had to face him.

"Captain Ro--"

You hissed at the sound of FRIDAY's voice coming over the intercom. "FRIDAY, shut up!"

"I apologize, Ms. Y/L/N, Dr. Banner is trying to reach Captain Rogers." FRIDAY spoke more quietly, but you were watching the corners of Steve's mouth twitching and knew it was too late. You weren't getting out of here.

Steve opened his pretty blue eyes, the sear of them burning into yours. "It's okay, FRIDAY. Will you tell Dr. Banner that if he's checking on Y/N, I’d like to bring her down so he can examine her, if he wouldn't mind."

"Yes, sir."

You cleared your throat sternly, a sneer curling your lip. "Excuse you, bossy."

Steve's smile widened into a delighted grin. "There you are," he said, affectionately. "How do you feel?"

Deciding there was no reason to lie now, you went with the truth, letting it ride. "Humiliated."

"Why?" he asked, his smile, his eyes softening.

Your expression twisted into a wry half-smile. "My memory was in no way affected by the chemicals I inadvertently ingested, Steve." You lifted a brow but kept that wry smile. "I'm fully aware of and embarrassed by my behavior."

His smile turned sad. It was all you could do to not lean in and kiss the sadness away. "Does that mean you didn't mean any of it? It was just the chemicals?"

Steve was struck by that same soft and liquid look you'd given him earlier. Your voice a rasp, you answered. "No. It wasn't just the chemicals." Now he saw sadness come into your eyes and it was all he could to do to not lean in and kiss the sadness away. "Unless you need everything to go back to the way it was." You scoffed out a little laugh, then spoke as if by rote. "Then no, I didn't mean any of it. It was just the chemicals."

Steve's eyes warmed once more. He gave into temptation, leaning in to nuzzle his mouth and nose against yours. "Some chemicals," he murmured. "You told me you were crazy about me, that you adored me."

You slid your arms around Steve's neck, snuggling closer. "Did I? Huh." You nipped at his lower lip, your lips curving in a sultry half-smile this time. "And what did you say back?"

"I didn't." Steve's expression turned serious, and you could feel the tension in the shoulders beneath your hands. "Too afraid you didn't mean any of it, that it was just the chemicals."

You turned serious in return. Steve was the sort who needed to know where he stood. You could respect that. "I’m not going to lie to you unless you ask it," you warned, giving him one last out from changing things between you forever.

"I always want the truth," he replied, "no matter what."

You searched his face for a long moment, needing to be sure before you laid your heart bare. Seeing everything you wanted in front of you if you only had the courage to reach out and take it, you opened your mouth without the slightest clue what was about to come out. "The chemicals removed my ability to keep my feelings to myself. The feelings themselves were always mine."

When the smile broke over Steve's face like dawn, you were so grateful to whatever part of your brain decided to go with the truth.

"So am I." Steve leaned in and pressed his lips to yours, the kiss both firm and soft, conveying both desire and affection. "Yours, I mean," he said when you came up for air, apparently worried that he needed to clarify. You giggled, then once more used your leverage from your hands in all that thick blond hair to bring his mouth back to yours.

Running your tongue over his bottom lip, you immediately took advantage when his lips parted in response. Your tongue slipped inside his mouth to draw his out to tangle with yours. With a moan in his throat, he gave in to both the allure of the kiss and you, his hot hands coming up to cup your face, tilting your head for a better angle.

When you broke apart to breathe, you attacked his throat with lips and tongue and teeth, desperate for more of him. "Okay," he panted, his hands gripping your shoulders, but pulling you closer rather than pulling you away as he had intended. "First, you need pants." Steve stopped to groan a little in his throat, trying to make himself stop you from what you were doing, specifically, sucking on his earlobe. He didn't know why it was driving him crazy, but he was hard as a rock and trying to think straight.

"Second, brain scan." You giggled again and buried your face in his neck, thoroughly enchanted by the almost pained groan in his tone in response to the feel of your mouth on his skin. You also couldn’t help but be impressed by his ability to focus despite your determined efforts to distract him. “By the way,” he continued, “I never did find out why you took your pants off in the first place.”

You were grateful your face was hidden in his throat. You were snickering as you answered but part of that was helpless embarrassment. If only you had the fuzziness liquor can bring to memories, but no, your memory was crystal clear. “They got torn off when Bucky was trying to restrain me without hurting me.”

“Jeez,” Steve dipped his head in an attempt to see your face. He loved how you looked alight with laughter. 'How big of a pain in the ass were you?" His voice was a teasing smile and coaxed you into tilting your head back to grin at him.

"Oh," you said, considering, "a stunningly large pain in the ass." Though Steve had said he wanted to get you pants and your brain scanned, he didn't seem to be in any hurry to move. You snuggled further into his chest, content to stay there as long as he'd hold you. "I wanted Clint to teach me how to shoot his bow and I was being very insistent."

Steve burst out laughing. He could see why they'd restrained you. He wouldn't have put a weapon in your hand under those circumstances, either. However, he hadn't noticed a need to be that forceful with you. "You weren't that bad with me."

You slid your arms around Steve's neck and pulled yourself face-to-face with him once more, your expression warm and inviting. "They didn't have your secret weapon for distracting me."

"What's that?" Steve wasn't quite sure why, but something about the look on your face had his heart racing. He was starting to think that he was in over his head.

You leaned forward to brush your mouth gently against his. "They weren't Steve Rogers." You spoke against his mouth, then sank back into the joy that was Steve's kiss. He moaned a little and sank along with you. You kept your eyes open long enough to see his eyes flutter closed in pleasure and the sight had your heart stumbling over how unbelievably sweet he was.

You had kicked the blanket off and turned to straddle him before Steve remembered himself. His hands were on your hips and he was being happily eaten alive by the fire of you. He hadn't known you were capable of burning so hot, but he was nevertheless unsurprised. One of the thousand reasons he adored you was your hidden depths of passion.

Steve stood, suddenly, and for a brief, giddy moment, you thought he was going to finally take you to bed. Instead, he pulled his mouth from yours to grit out the words, "Pants. Brain scan. Then this… conversation."

Determined now, Steve took long strides toward the door, still holding you by your thighs wrapped around his waist. Wiggling a bit to indicate you'd rather walk, you lifted an amused brow. "Need to make sure I'm of sound mind?"

Steve stopped and rearranged his hold on you so that he was supporting your torso until your feet were under you. Once you were standing firm in front of him, he took your chin in his hand and leaned in for a quick, but scorching kiss. "For what I want to do to you? Yes."

You gaped at him, but the lust that shivered through you was also written all over your face. Steve's smile turned smug when you exclaimed, your excitement plain, "Captain!" You slipped your hand in his and pulled him toward the door and the lab. Your smile sultry to match his smug, you purred, "I'm intrigued."

... Only Happy Accidents here

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