#IV Poles Medical

[co-worm]

watch your back!

[nothing-more-than]

Absolutely baffling to me that my insurance is willing to give me a brand new feed bag and set of tubing for EVERY DAY, along with five syringes per month, but nooooo I only get one (1) difficult-to-clean drain bag that needs to be thoroughly scrubbed and carefully air-dried each night so it doesn't grow bacteria and make me ill... ever. One per customer per As Long As They Live.

Girl what. Would it be so terribly difficult to give me a new one every few months? Could you at least give me info as to where I can buy them myself??

[kotoku]

ꜱᴜɴᴅᴀʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀɪɴᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀɴ ɪɴᴊᴜʀᴇᴅ! ꜱ/ᴏ

pairings - sunday x injured! reader / aventurine x injured! reader

content - reader is gender-neutral/ angst but with comfort/ fluff in the end

warnings - a bit of angst (?), maybe like two sprinkles..

⋘ ʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ... ⋙

Sunday had been filing through his paperwork, eyes skimming over the contents before tucking it into its rightful folder. The ticking of a clock was the only sound that filled the room, besides the noise of papers being shuffled. It was then his mind had begun to wonder, filtering out the ambiance and recalling the last conversation the two of you had shared before leaving for work. 

“It seems that something urgent has come up at work. I’ll be leaving now, Sunday.” You quickly put on your footwear that you normally use for work, making sure that it isn't loose. Sunday stood near the front door and offered you your bag that held your belongings when you got up.

“Alright, stay safe, my dear.” 

And with a quick peck on the lips, you had set off to work, leaving Sunday in the doorway feeling a little lonely. 

With a shake of his head and the shutting of the door, Sunday had made his way to the bedroom to start his own routine.

There was no need for him to feel lonely. As you would be back in his arms later that day. 

He wouldn’t have had to wait that long, as he was notified of your disappearance by your boss. 

Sunday had dropped whatever paperwork he was doing, the papers that were once neatly organized scattered across his desk. When he had got the call from your superior, knots of dread had weaved itself in his stomach and it made him want to puke. 

He left his office in a hurry, not bothering to close the door fully as he sprinted to the place your superior had sent you to. Your superior had said that you had an assignment within the real dreamscape, something about the memetic entities within it that were disrupting the environment. The group that was sent to the area had lost you somewhere deep within it before they were attacked by those monsters. 

The thought of you being by yourself while facing those things made a shiver run up his spine. He knew how capable you were but he didn’t want to risk losing another person again. 

Not after what happened to his sister.

When Sunday got to the real dreamscape, he had met with the group you were sent with before leaving on his own to find you. He tore the entire place apart, searching for any traces of where you could have gone before stumbling upon a trail of freshly spilled blood. Your blood. 

Sunday cursed under his breath, following the trail that led him through door after door. It was then the trail stopped, your beaten up form sitting up against the wall, a pool of blood beneath you from the blood that you were losing. You were on the verge of unconsciousness.

For a moment he felt his heart stop, hands clenching in anger and fear at what had done this to you. But despite the urge to eliminate whoever was responsible, he needed to focus and bring you somewhere safe. 

You hadn’t registered the footsteps that were quickly approaching you, the gentleness of the person who was carrying you and the soft fluttering of wings against your face, nor the warm grip on your hand while you got transported to the infirmary. It was then when you could barely make out a couple of people above you that you were swept away to darkness.

-----

There was a faint noise coming from beside you. It was the sound of the monitors that were hooked up to you, the IV pole sitting nearby with its saline bag half empty. The bright lights that flooded your vision as soon as you woke caused you to wince, slowly shuffling in the medical bed you were set on. 

The pain you felt was almost unbearable. The myriad of bandages on your body and the cast around your leg were proof of where the pain originated. You could barely move around that much with how everything was restricting you, yet you attempted to find a comfortable position. 

However, you felt a lightweight resting on your thigh and a loose grip holding your hand. 

“Sunday..?” You croaked out, peering over at the man who slept peacefully with some of his loose feathers around you. You figured that he must’ve been so stressed that some had popped right off, poor thing. 

Reaching out a hand and carefully swiping away some of his disheveled hair, you saw the bags that had formed under his eyes. How many days has it been? It was clear that he had spent a while there with you, waiting for the moment that you’d awaken, but his tiredness eventually caught up to him. You couldn’t help but shake your head, feeling a little guilty you had caused your lover this much stress. 

Sunday stirring awake snapped you out of your thoughts. He slowly blinked his eyes open and lifted himself away from where he lay as he noticed that you were awake.

“_____..? You’re awake..! Thank Xipe..I almost thought you weren’t going to wake up anytime soon.” Sunday breathed a sigh of relief, the feelings of stress and anxiety that ate away at him disappearing. He carefully cupped your face and pressed his forehead against yours. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get there in time, My Love…”

“Sunday… You don’t need to apologize for that. I should be apologizing for my recklessness…” You murmured, feeling the warmth radiating from him. You sunk further into his touch, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles on your cheek. 

“Nonsense, you were only doing your duty.” Sunday firmly stated, nudging you to look him in the eyes. “There is nothing for you to be sorry for.”

Tears began to well in your eyes, not just from the pain but the reassurance that Sunday gave you. You would not have known what to do if either one of you lost the other, so you were eternally grateful that both of you were alive at this moment. 

A brief silence fell between the both of you. It wasn’t uncomfortable but rather comforting, enjoying the presence of each other for a little longer before the nurses would check in on you. 

“If you think about it… You’re kind of like my guardian angel, Sunday.” Sunday chuckled. 

“I guess I am."

-----

You and Aventurine had an..interesting start to your developing friendship that brought you to where you are now. The both of you had first started working at the IPC in the same department so the frequent appearances of the other never really surprised either one of you. There would be times when you’d guys share small talk, but that never really lasted long as you got swept away to another assignment. 

When you had started rising through the ranks, there was an unspoken rivalry that began to form between you and Aventurine. You never really cared or bothered to feed into this ‘rivalry’, but you had to admit that it was pretty funny seeing Aventurine so fired up if something fortunate happened to you. This led to constant teasing and bickering whenever the two of you encountered each other. It got even worse when you got paired to the same assignment as him. Yet he did know when to take things seriously so you both could get the job done. 

It had been a rather uninteresting day of work for Aventurine, bound to his desk and reviewing important documents that had been submitted to him from his subordinates. Eventually, he had concluded everything and placed them into a cabinet for further inspection later. He just wanted to take a quick walk to stretch out his body after being strapped to his chair for the entire day. 

The scenery outside the spaceship was what you’d expect, yet he never grew bored of it. Sometimes he’d stare out into the vast sea of stars and planets, distracted by the idea of just how small he and his problems were. In a way, it distracted him from the stresses of life.

Aventurine had begun to near the area where people would come in, a group of workers that had recently finished an assignment passing him. He noticed some familiar faces amidst the group and started to wonder when you’d be back to see him. 

It had been 2 weeks since you left for your assignment, giving him a long kiss that left him dazed before departing. Aventurine didn’t lie when he said that he’d miss you as he whined about you leaving for 2 weeks, clinging to you when it was the morning of your departure. Yet he whined a little less when you promised to text him whenever you had a moment of free time.

Speaking of which… The last message you sent to him was a while ago, around 2 days in fact. He never heard anything from you since you bid goodnight to him which made him a little worried. But he knew more than anyone that you were a capable and dependable person, so his worries grew a little less. 

…Yet he could feel a small twinge of dread in his stomach whenever he thought about the time span. 

The opening of the doors leading to the docking area brought him out of his thoughts, glancing over to check what ship had come back. To his surprise, it was you..but in crutches and countless bandages as you awkwardly made your way past the door with someone assisting you. 

Aventurine stared for a couple of seconds, registering your beat-up form before rushing over. “_____!”

You had strained your neck to look towards where the voice came from, seeing a distressed Aventurine catch up with you and your coworker.

“Ah.. Aventurine–,” you started, giving him an awkward smile. “--didn’t think I’d see you so soon. How has work been–”

“What happened to you??” Before you could finish your sentence, Aventurine had taken your coworker’s place, assisting you towards the infirmary. You were trying to explain what happened during your mission and brushed off the injuries, as it was never uncommon to come out with a few scratches and bruises… Aventurine disagreed in a heartbeat.  

“Missions can be dangerous so you must take care of yourself.” Aventurine huffed, getting you checked into the infirmary. 

After you were settled into your room with everything taken care of, Aventurine came back in to stay by your side. You could tell he was upset and concerned for your well-being, sighing as he continued to whine and lecture you about safety. 

“You should’ve given me a call, you know I’d be there in a heartbeat–” 

“Aventurine…”

“Who knows what could’ve happened to you if the circumstances were different–” 

“Aventurine.”  

“Whatever happened… Whoever did this to you I’ll–”

“Aventurine!” 

He stopped pacing around the room, head snapping towards you when your voice finally got his attention. You sighed softly, looking down at your hands that had medical equipment attached to them. “I’m okay. Everything is fine–” “How can you say that?” 

Aventurine gave you a frown, crossing his arms as he stood at the foot of your bed. “You came out with multiple injuries, hell you could barely walk. How could you say that everything is fine?” His eyes had narrowed, staring down at the tiled floor that reflected back at him.

You stared at him for a bit, thinking of what you could say to him. After all, he was right, you came out bearing a multitude of injuries that would leave a couple of scars. But..you didn’t want him to be so worried for your sake, you couldn’t bear burdening him. The grip you had on the sheets loosened, your head leaning back onto the pillow. 

“I…” A pause. “..I’m sorry, Aventurine. I didn’t want to cause more stress for you but.. I’ll be fine. I promise.” You firmly spoke, watching him look back at you before coming over to sit beside you.

“No I… You don’t need to apologize.” Aventurine sighed, moving to hold your hand. “I was just..scared. I’m sorry for lashing out on you, _____.” His gloved fingers felt warm against your bare skin, thumb gliding over your knuckles. 

You hummed in response, your hand interlocking with Aventurine’s. “I know, Aven.” He gave your intertwined hands a kiss, pressing his forehead against them.

“Geez… You really don’t know how worried I was when I didn’t hear anything from you for two days.” Aventurine whined, head moving to rest on your stomach. You stroked his hair, fingers gliding through his golden strands as he sighed in bliss. 

“...I missed you.” He mumbled, peering up at you like a kid through his lovely eyes. You smiled softly at him. 

“I missed you too, Aven.”

“You won’t believe how work has been without you, though…” “Really? I’m all ears.”

⋘ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ! ⋙

note - sorry for the sudden disappearance everyone! 😀 i hope that you guys haven't missed me too much but i'll promise to post stuff soon! thank you guys for your patience and i hope you guys have a safe and wonderful break/week!

[waywardducks]

BATFAMILY MERMAID AU BC I LOVE MERMAIDS AND IVE BEEN SITTING ON THIS ONE FOR FOREVER (its still a wip)

The tank was huge. It was 347 feet long, 259 feet wide, and 45 feet deep. It's one of the largest aquarium tanks in the world and it's one of Bruce’s greatest achievements.

The tank has several passageways leading to smaller tanks private caves, and a handful of alcoves.

Rays, smaller sharks, groupers, eels, and almost 70 species of fish fill the vibrant tank. But as pretty as the fish are, they aren't the main attraction in this particular tank.

No, that belongs to Bruce’s other greatest achievement. His mers.

He has one of the largest medical rehabilitation centers in the world. The outside is treated like a normal aquarium, with people coming from all over to see the beautiful creatures, but behind the scenes are people going out of their way to rescue and research the mers.

Bruce picked it up from his father. It was a silly dream that the man had had before his parent's murder. Bruce has dedicated his entire life to bringing that dream to life.

He has helped many, hundreds, even, of mermaids and mermen through his facility. Each mer is helped back into ocean life, save for the ones that are too injured or sickly to go back, though, even those mers are free to leave should they choose. Some mers will come back frequently just to say hi are get free check up when they are ill or pregnant or want to show off there progress as thanks.

There are a few smaller tanks that are meant for things like pod training mers who have been alone since pups and don’t know how to handle society, or feral mers that are being retrained to not be violent. There are habitat based tanks as well, made for mers that live in extreme climates, such as selkies that are used to freezing waters or more sensitive tropical fish that can’t acclimate to anything other than their usual warmer waters.

Of all of the mers though, there are a handful that stay for far different reason than that of the sickly or disabled.

It’s a running joke in the community that Bruce is keeping his own orphanage. But if you ask him, he will tell you flat out that the mers are his family or his pod.

He found Dick early on in his endeavors. The mer is a beautiful Betta. An omega orphaned when his pod was tragically killed in a different aquarium. Bruce took him in immediately. Dick ended up being a very clingy pup, and seemed to see Bruce as a form of parent. The betta was flashy, always one to perform and show off his beautiful bluish greenish fins to any curious humans that passed him by.

Bruce stumbled upon Jason on accident. He’s been out at sea one day, enjoying a relaxing summer day in his newest boat when his fishing pole, and all of his bait suddenly disappeared without a trace. A few minutes of frantic looking later, a small, wriggling body floated up to the surface. A merpup had somehow managed to steal all his bait and his pole when he wasn’t looking, but it seemed the poor pup had gotten himself tangled in the fishing line.

Jason is an outcast. His parents were from differing species, making Jason a ‘mutt’. He was shunned by both his species, and his mother was shunned for breeding with a species outside of her own. So of course Bruce took him in. Jason is half grey reef shark and half snapper, leaving him with a red, shiny shark tail. The alpha is every bit territorial as his species would lead him to be, but he’s calmed down a ton since his vicious teen days.

Tim was harder to get than any of Bruce’s other mers. The omega mer was bred in captivity and was quickly taken from his mother almost as soon as he was born. The Drakes were known for their interests in amazing things. They had many statues, precious gems, antique armors and books and anything else they either find on their digs or buy on the black market. One day they decided to add a rare mer to their collection: a crossbreed between a cuttlefish mer and a betta mer. Tim’s tail resembles Dick’s in shape, but his is naturally a red and black ombré, with short and soft fins that decorate his body. It changes colors often though, thanks to his cuttlefish father.

As beautiful and amazing as Tim is, the crossbreeding of his two species has left him with many health complications in his life. A small cut can lead to deadly infections, he is very frail and his scales are much softer/more vulnerable than most other mers. But the worst of it is his omegan side.

The Drakes were ignorant to Tim’s needs growing up. Sure, he had a large tank, food every day, and plenty of puzzles and toys to keep him occupied. But as he grew, the tank stayed the same size, and the puzzles and toys were only fun the first few times you played with them. Bordem sets in quickly, but so does loneliness. Tim very quickly grew depressed in his lonely tank. His heat cycle was thrown off, his instincts were dull, he never had a pod to teach him to be an omega. When Bruce found him, he was like a lifeless doll.

The Drakes managed to avoid jail time with all their money, but rumors spread quickly of the abuse and soon their empire fell.

It took Bruce months to get Tim to warm up to his new podmates, and even longer for him to learn basic omega behaviors. Even now he will still ignore them and his pod still have to remind him to do things like scent his podmates or nest when he's in preheat. Things that should've been ingrained in him since was a pup. Even a pup out on his own, like Jason was, will still have the instincts for these things, but Tim was trapped and left to rot in a cage, his mind never had the chance to develop those needs.

Damien was conceived in the facility. Bruce had wanted to attempt an experiment with a mer that he had become close friends with, Talia. Talia, actually, was the one that brought up the idea. The mermaid loved Bruce dearly and had asked him to be her Sire. Bruce agreed. He loved Talia, but not as mates, and Talia was perfectly fine with that. She mostly saw Bruce as a worthy father for her pups, one that would breed a strong youngling. Bruce artificially inseminated one of Talia's eggs. Half mers were rare. You found them mostly on the black market, offsprings of a trafficked mer, being sold for half price. A mistake caught too late. Some mers and humans fall in love, and have a child of their own will, but that's even rarer.

It’s very hard to find a mer that is compatible with humans. The mer’s DNA needs to have certain traits to be able to conceive. Talia happened to have those traits.

Talia disappeared not long after the insemination. They never even found out if it caught or not before she left. But 9 years later, a half merpup was dropped off at the ocean entrance of the facility.

Damien was half barracuda, half human. Bruce Wayne's only blood son. The pup was aggressive and knew very little English having been born in the Arabian Gulf.

Talia was still nowhere to be seen, though it appeared she was the one who brought Damian the Wayne Center.

Dick, being the caring and loving omega he was, took to Damian like he was his mother. He nursed the pup and raised him. Jason helped teach the pup to control his predatory and alpha instincts. And Bruce did all he could to take care of his son from where he was on land. And Tim.. Tim hid from Damian.

Damian hated Tim. That much was apparent.

Tim, who had never known real love for the first half of his life and had slowly been making progress in understanding and excepting his new family regressed severely when Damain arrived, having been sent spiraling mentally.

Damian came in, teeth bared and ready to fight for his place as Bruce’s son, targeted Tim for being cared for by Bruce the most.

Jason ended up being the one to step up, though. When Tim had first arrived, Jason thought he was being replaced. He went from being the baby, the one that was cooed and coddled by Bruce and Dick, to suddenly being pushed aside for this random omega with no discernable scent that he's being forced to share a tank with. Jason attacked Tim, going straight for the throat. Dick managed to get Jason off of Tim in time to save his life. Bruce quickly had Jason sedated and moved into isolation while Tim was given life-saving procedures. Luckily, somehow, the but didn't get infected, but it left a nasty scar on his throat.

When Jason finally accepted Tim as pack, a year later, he cried for hours, apologizing over and over for the way he had treated the younger.

Tim forgave him easily and the two had grown closer since the incident.

Damien attempted to kill Tim. Tim was still being precariously cared for by Bruce and Dick. With his sicknesses and his tendency to neglect himself, the older two would seemingly give Tim more attention than the young alpha, and Damian hated Tim for it.

Eventually, Tim and Damian finally make up, but they never really get too close. They are always at each other’s throats, constantly fighting. But not more in a sibling way than an actually vicious way

[callsign-muffin]

Heal Together: Chapter 3

(Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw fic)

I kinda want to make a playlist for this fic with all the music I mention in it. But I also work crazy hours and my writing time is my time to relax, so I don't know if I want to add something else on top of it if no one would care, ya know?

Masterlist

Word Count: 1.8k

“He started talking a little more last night.” Carly smiled after she finished giving you report, “He didn’t say much to me besides ‘thank you’ and asking for whatever he needed. Maybe you’ll be able to get more out of him, you guys seem to have really good rapport.”

“He responded very well to my sarcasm. Patient’s often don’t so it was a nice change.” You shrugged.

“Do you think he’s gonna be transferred to a step down unit?” She asked.

You nodded, “Yeah and I’ll miss him. It was nice having a patient I could actually interact with.”

Carly’s eyes widened, “What kind of ICU nurse are you? We love ‘em intubated and sedated.”

“A tired one!” You stated, “I need a few more sips of coffee and then let’s go sign off meds.”

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █

Rooster was only slightly awake when Y/N and Carly entered the room to finish their morning sign off. They didn’t turn on the light, spoke in soft whispers, and used the glow of the computer screen as their light. He turned over groggily, as his vision cleared, he saw Y/N there. She looked so beautiful with her hair pulled back messily in a claw clip and her bright eyes quickly traveled back and forth as she compared the medications hanging on the IV pole with the computer. She moved about the space as if she owned it. Hell, with the way she’s helped Bradley the last 48 hours, she practically does own it.

“Good morning, Bradley.” She smiled down at him sweetly, “How ya feeling’?”

“Not too shabby.” His voice was still a bit raspy.

She feigned surprise, “Ah! He speaks!”

Rooster smiled up at her, “Soon you’ll be wishing I had that tube back down my throat to shut me up.”

She shook her head, “Never.”

“I see Carly removed your catheter last night.” Y/N inquired after finishing her head to toe assessment on Bradley.

He nodded, “About 2 hours ago at 5 in the morning. It was fucking awkward having someone 10 years younger than me touch my dick.” 

Y/N snorted trying to hold back a belly laugh, “I hate to break it to ya but that girl is more than 10 years younger than you.”

His face dropped in horror, “Holy shit, that’s a child!”

“She has the same license I do.” You shrugged, “She’s absolutely qualified to do what she does.”

“Unbelievable!” Rooster playfully rolled his eyes.

Y/N slightly pivoted the conversation, “You feel strong enough to get up and pee? Or do you need something to use while in bed?”

“Like a bottle?” He questioned.

She nodded, “We call it a bedside urinal but it’s the same idea.”

He nodded, “Yeah, I’ll try and get my ass up.”

“Good choice. You wanna try now?”

Bradley thought for a minute, “I mean… I probably should…”

“Alright champ, let’s do it nice and slow.” She moved his tray table out of the way.

He looked around, “Can you give a man get some privacy?”

“Not when you’re fresh off the vent. I’m not risking you falling ‘cause you have a shy bladder!” She rolled her eyes jokingly.

He grinned playfully, “Don’t go checking out my junk.”

“Already seen it and I wasn’t planning on doing it again.”

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █

“Alright Lieutenant, looks like you’re cleared for transfer down to a medical observation floor.” A different older doctor from yesterday said with his posse of residents, “Glad to see you’re on the mend.”

“Me too, sir.” Bradley agreed.

The same resident from the day before, Carl Parks looked at you with disdain, “Nurse, I’ll get the transfer orders in when I can.”

“‘Preciate it, doc.” You fired back coolly. It was cute that he thought that he’d be able to get under your skin. 

They all exited and moved on to their next patient for rounds.

“What’s up his ass?” Rooster asked you.

You smirked, “The shame of being wrong.”

He gave you a questioning look.

“He didn’t think you were ready to get off the ventilator yesterday, I challenged him on it and the attending doctor took my side.” You explained, “Guys like him hate being wrong, their egos get bruised.”

He scoffed, “I don’t know how he’s smart enough to be a doctor if he was dumb enough to question you.”

“But what if this new unit sucks?” Bradley complained as you wheeled his bed down the hall and towards the elevator.

“All hospital units suck,” you scoffed, “Except for maybe labor and delivery.”

“I’m guessing my lack of vagina means I can’t go there.”

You stopped at the elevator and pressed the button, “You’d be correct.”

“Well shit.” He chuckled.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened; you carefully pushed the bed inside.

“This is a good thing,” you pressed the 3rd floor button, “the sooner you get out of the ICU, the closer you are to going home.”

Bradley sighed, “Yeah but… I’m going to miss you.”

“Really?” Butterflies began to flutter in your stomach. 

What the hell was that? You thought to yourself.

He nodded, “Yeah, you’re the first nurse that made me feel like a human being.”

You paused, taken aback by his words. “I don’t think you even understand how much it means to me to hear you say that.”

The elevator dinged again and the doors opened to your floor.

“I mean every word.” He said as you pushed him down the hall towards the medical observation unit, “You’re a good nurse— a great nurse.”

“Wow,” you stopped at the unit entrance and used your badge to open the doors, “Thank you so much for saying that.”

The nurse that was taking over Bradley’s care interrupted your conversation and helped you get his bed into the new room. You guys did your checks, you gave her a quick beside report, and you were good to go.

You looked at Bradley and sighed, “It was a pleasure taking care of you, Lt. Bradshaw. Keep getting better.”

He nodded and gave you a soft smile, “I will. Thank you for all you did for me.”

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █

Two weeks later

It was Bradley’s first night out since before his deployment, it felt like a lifetime had gone by. He couldn’t wait to see all his friends at the Hard Deck and show them he was doing alright. The only one who’d seen him since he was med-evaced from the aircraft carrier was Phoenix. She was the one who picked him up from the hospital after discharge and took him home. He told her all about the angel nurse he met, how she bathed him and talked to him while he was intubated, how she was by his side to talk him through his extubation, how she made him laugh, and how he hasn’t stopped thinking about her.

“BRADSHAW,” Jake “Hangman” Seresin, his best frienemy, shouted across the bar from the pool table, “as I live and breathe!”

“We weren’t sure if he was living and breathing for a second back on the carrier.” Coyote quipped.

All the men greeted each other with big hugs and claps on the back. Despite their joking in the moment, those men were terrified that they were going to lose Rooster. Hangman was on the cot next to him in the infirmary as they were intubating him. It was a nightmare, to say the least.

“Glad you’re okay, buddy.” Bob said, “Let me buy you a drink.”

“Are you sure?” Bradley questioned, “But you don’t drink.”

Bob shook his head, “Doesn’t matter, I’m just so glad you’re here.”

Phoenix lovingly patted his cheek, “Awww Bob, you really are the best of all of us.”

“Truly.” Bradley agreed.

He could’ve sworn he was going crazy. He saw Y/N. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her. But to be fair, he thought he saw her everywhere. She hadn’t left his mind since the day he met her. But this time he heard her voice and her laugh in the crowd. His eyes scanned the crowded bar for a familiar face. BINGO! There sh was, waiting for a drink at the bar. With a familiar young, little blonde. Was that Carly the child?!

“Go find yourself a cute sailor or something!” He heard her say over the loud music, “That’s what I’d do if I was young and hot!”

“Y/N, shut up! You’re only 28, you’re young and hot too!” The little blonde nudged her.

Wow, she was just as beautiful as he remembered her. Though she was a little more dressed up, she still had that same calm and caring demeanor that she had every time she walked into his room in the ICU. She was wearing a tight white T-shirt and faded jeans, effortlessly beautiful.

“Oh no you don’t!” She grabbed Carly’s wrist as she tried to slip her card to the bartender who just served them their drinks.

Carly ignored her and handed over the card, “Oh yes I do! You’ve helped me so much ever since you started, I feel like I’m actually getting the hang of this nurse thing with your help. Let me treat you!”

Y/N pouted, “Fine! But no more after this!  You need to save your money for fun and adventure!”

“Yes, ma’am!” Carly saluted her like an officer.

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █

“Absolutely not,” You cried over the music at Carly and the other younger nurses that were with you at the Hard Deck.

“Absolutely yes!!!” Another young nurse, Madi handed you a tequila shot and a lime.

You groaned, “I’m too old for this!”

“NO YOU’RE NOT!” The girls chorused.

You looked down at the tiny glass, could your stomach even handle this anymore.

“Dooooooooo it!” Carly taunted evilly.

“Doooooooooooooooo it!” Sam echoed.

You groaned, “Ugh! Fine!” And you tossed the shot back like a champ, chasing it immediately with the lime. Your face contorted, “Oof it burns.”

All the girls cheered and threw their shots back together.

Suddenly the jukebox cut, making the room fall silent for a moment. Then a couple of chords slammed on a piano.

You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain

Too much love drives a man insane

You broke my will, but what a thrill

Goodness gracious, great balls of fire

Your head whipped around, wondering where the hell this piano was coming from.

“Holy shit.” Carly’s jaw dropped.

You looked in the same general direction Carly was, “Holy shit.”

“What?!” Madi asked over the loud music and singing. Many others had since joined in.

“That’s the patient Y/N fought Parks about extubating .” She explained.

You were still frozen.

“He’s kinda hot.” Sam giggled.

All you could choke out was, “That’s quite the mustache.”

Tag list:

@sarah-bear706318

Please message or comment if you'd like to be added to the tag list!

[sleepyfan-blog]

In The Medbay

Author’s Note: This is the second part of Pallius’ in Husbandry. First. Other Black Templar adventures here. Thank you to @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan for letting me borrow her oc Zariel!

Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts @i-am-a-dragon34 

Warnings: none? Please ask me to tag something if I need to.

Summary: Pallius wakes up. He’s surprised by this. This is only the first of many surprises in store for the young Black Templar.

Pallius was pleasantly surprised to find himself awake. Considering how badly He had beaten him, the young Primaris Marine hadn’t expected to survive it. He wouldn’t have been the first Primaris Marine to fall to Petras’ bad temper and lethal hands, though he knew that the medicae would do their best to stabilize him, if he was able to be found in time. How he had ended up on a world with civilians on it, when he had been aboard The Sigismund when the punishment Petras had been delivering unto him moments ago made no sense whatsoever. 

His wounds ached somewhat, but far less than he was expecting them to… Was… Was he being given morpha, to relieve some of his pain? Pallius’ eyes shot open, and the view of an astartes-sized and grade medical bay filled his vision. He spotted a couple of Ultramarine apothecaries tending to other patients, moving swiftly and efficiently between them. 

… How had he ended up on a world of Ultramar? The Sigismund had been deep in Imperium Nihilus, chasing rumors of a second Primarch's possible awakening… And the strange moments of The Dark Angels…

Well, stranger movements of the Dark Angels. That particular chapter of Astartes had always been extremely secretive and unwilling to explain anything whatsoever. The way they operated reminded him of the Silver Bastard Trainers back on Mars. The ones he wasn't supposed to talk or even think about very much.

Despite the odd mysteries before him, his mind wandered back to the young mortal who had first found him, upon this world. She had been scared for him, and so earnestly trying to help. Her light touches had soothed wherever they had landed, and her voice had been a soothing balm to his ragged, guilt-ridden soil. Pallius needed to find her.

The young Black Templar looked down at himself assessingly. He had an IV attached to a clear plastic bag that was dripping… Something into his veins. His wounds that needed it were bandaged and presumably cleaned beforehand, per proper protocols.

And if there was one thing Ultramarines were good at, it was following proper protocol. Most of them, anyways.

Pallius’ body was covered by some egregious thin and flimsy light blue smock-thing and a blanket. He wiggled his toes, finding them free of the Vile Abominations known as socks, and bare. He needed to find that baseline mortal and thank her for what she had done. It was as if someone had tied steel cabling to the deepest part of his soul and tethered him to that mortal girl. He found that he did not mind this tether, but the near-frantic urge to find her and keep her safe and happy was enough to force him up and off of the comfortable bed.

A wave of morpha-induced dizziness hit Pallius hard as he managed to silently heave himself off of the bed and onto his bare feet. His fingers clumsily tied the blanket around himself over one shoulder in a parody of a toga, but it was better than the gown-thing he was wearing underneath the blanket alone.

One of his hands flew over to and grasped the IV pole, allowing himself to steady against it. Some clever soul had attached wheels to the base of the pole, which meant pushing it and the IV attached to him a lot easier. His wounds all protested simultaneously at the movement, but Pallius ignored them with all of the grit and determination that he could muster.

Pallius allowed himself a couple of seconds to breathe silently through the pain before taking a quiet step toward the medbay doors. Then another. Then a third. The young Black Templar moved slowly and with caution, so as to not aggravate his still-healing wounds to the best of his abilities, willing none of the Apothecaries to come over and bother him.

He had a (self-imposed) mission to complete, and by the God Emperor Himself, Pallius would see it done, or die in the process. Nothing and no one would be able to stop him on this righteous quest. Pallius continued to make his way to the medbay doors, and reached about three-quarters of the way there from the bed he’d woken up in, when an amused voice drawled out from behind him.

“Just where do you think you’re going, Scout?” One of the Ultramarines called out, an amused expression on his face and mirth shining in his blue-black eyes. 

“I need to find the mortal who first helped me. She was so nice and worried and I… I need to reassure her that I have survived. Do you know where she is?” Pallius asked, having partially turned to explain himself to the Apothecary before returning to his task of Leaving The Medbay.

“... And you want to find the mortal who helped you dressed like this, do you?” The Ultramarine asked, sounding very judgmental and amused.

Rude bastard. “Do you have any better ideas?” Pallius huffed, scowling (not pouting! He was a space marine, damn it) down at the older but shorter Astartes. “Or know where I may borrow some better clothes?”

“The answer to both of those questions is yes.” The Ultramarine Apothecary answered, still clearly laughing at him silently. “But first, please sit down. There is much to explain to you, and I daresay the explanation will help.”

Pallius blinked, obeying the tone of command without thought. A sigh of relief left him and the gray that had been eating at the edges of his vision faded. The pain ebbed and hey, he could breathe better again. “Will the explanation include how I arrived on a world of Ultramar?”

“Considering who you see in the medbay, I understand why you’ve guessed that. But no, we are not within the Realm of Ultramar. We are on Terra.” The Ultramarine revealed.

The Primaris Marine physically recoiled a little in shock and surprise, a silent gasp leaving him, his eyes widening as he tried to process this information. “H… Holy Terra? But… But I was many years from the Sol system, even by Warp Travel… And I thought that Terra’s atmosphere had long since become thin and heavily polluted. That is what we were told, sir.”

“In M42, this is true. However -” The Ultramarine - who introduced himself as Apothecary Zariel - explained the utterly wild and nonsensical tale of time travel that apparently every Marine currently on M3 Holy Terra had somehow undergone. Allegedly Zariel was from M36. He talked of the alliance, of bonds, of many fantastical and heretical things, ending with “And, as I can tell you don’t believe most of what I say -not that I blame you for that young one, this is a tale I would scarcely believe myself if I did not have proof of it, there are a few other Primaris Marines from M42 on base. I have asked two of them to join us. Cedric - who is an apothecary, and Ramiel, who is a Chaplain-in-training. Both of them are also Primaris Black Templars.”

“... Could you go over what these bonds are? How do you know if you have a bond? They… They aren’t heretical, are they?” Pallius asked, light blue eyes widening in surprise and recognition of the names of two of his Brothers.

Zariel smiled and gently patted one of his shoulders, having sat down partway through the long-winded lecture of absolute nonsense that he’d been trying to feed him. Why the other was trying to lie to Pallius so much, the young marine couldn’t begin to guess. All the other had to say was that it was classified for him to know where he was, and Pallius would have accepted that from the other. “Most commonly, a marine bonded to a baseline human feels the need to protect and care for that human. To ensure that they are happy and loved and that they know this. It is also common to want to spend as much time as possible around the human one is bonded to, and to feel a sense of anxiety or concern when away from one’s human for one reason or another.”

Pallius’ eyes widened and he fidgeted with his hands a little, looking away from the older Marine “And… And these bonds, they are… They are good things?”

“Yes, lad, They are wonderful gifts. Is there a particular reason why you ask?” Zariel asked, and he could hear a smile in the other’s voice.

“I think. I think I have a bonded human. The blue haired human who helped me until medicae got on the scene. I feel… I need. I need to find her. I need to make sure that she’s okay. I want to see her smile and laugh and be happy. I-I need to let her know that her care and concern weren’t wasted on someone who died, or does not think of her concern as the precious gift it is.” Pallius explained, a desperate desire to explain himself rising up within the young marine. “Please… I… I need to find her. To see her again.”

“Easy… Easy… Deep breaths. Follow my lead, lad.” Zariel instructed him, breathing in the manner that he wanted Pallius to copy. “Once you’re in a bit better shape -”

Pallius shook his head, his eyes wide and pleading “No! No, I need to see her now! I can’t… It can’t wait! I… I need to see her again. I will leave this medbay and find her on my own, the moment you leave me alone. Please! Her presence was a soothing balm. I know that I would do much better, heal faster, were she around.”

“Do you want your bonded human to see you half-dead from your wounds and half-delirious from both the morpha and blood loss?” Zariel asked, a sharpness in his voice, but a gentle understanding on his face. 

A chill ran through him. Would she see him as an ill-fitting protector, if she were to be brought to him while he was so injured, so frantic? The urge to find her was nearly all-consuming… But the idea of her rejecting him because he was a weak mess of emotions and injuries was enough to get him to stop dead in his tracks, both literally and metaphorically. “I… No…” He answered, his voice small and meek. “I don’t.”

“That’s what I thought. Now, I’m going to help you back to your bed. There are some gentle exercises that I will be happy to teach you that will help you heal better, but you must listen to me. You also must not push yourself, or you will strain your injuries and cause them to take longer to heal.” Zariel rumbled, a stern expression on his face.

Pallius ducked his head, shame burning in his hearts “Yes sir… Sorry sir…”

The stern expression on Zariel’s face softened somewhat. “I understand your eagerness to meet your bonded again. I, too have a bonded human. They are a wonderful companion, however the baseline you are bonded to would be distraught to see you in such a weakened state. Not because she’d judge you for being so badly hurt, but because she’d worry as to how you got into such a state. M3 is much more peaceful, and isolated from the horrors of the Galaxy. You want to be at your best when you meet her properly, yes?”

“Yes sir!” Pallius answered, nodding. He still felt the desire to go find the human he was Bonded to, but was able to temper that desire with the knowledge that he did not want to find them, only to collapse into a puddle of pain and bloodied meat before her feet. He obediently followed Zariel back to his bed and laid down, a sigh of relief leaving him, his eyes closing as he was stunned by how exhausted the short distance he had moved had made him.

Zariel untied the blanket he’d been wearing and tucked him into bed, running a gentle hand through his hair. “Sleep well, young one. Try not to sprint for the medbay doors when you wake up again, mm?”

“Yes sir…” Pallius yawned, letting himself settle into the comfortable embrace of sleep.

[dr-robert-chase-apologist]

*no one was seriously injured in the bus accident. hydroplaned when swerving to avoid a deer and ended up hitting a pole. windshield shattered and driver got some glass in her skin but everyone was fine.

eggs was because i got food poisoning one time on vacation. it was absolutely miserable (ended up in an ER, needed IV fluids and they wanted to keep me over night but i had my flight home the next day so i didn't do that). i blamed it on an undercooked omelet (could have been any number of other things too tho) and then i was scared of eating eggs for months because i didn't want to get sick again (fortunately i have recovered from my fear of eggs).

@airobirb

[tea-and-secrets]

i think my favorite sport is turning me into a masochist LOL, my friends will know who this is but idc, its mostly a joke but like not entirely?

so basically, i do aerial silks. i started around 6 months ago (most likely 8 when this is posted) after spending ~7 YEARS in a very inactive, mostly sedentary lifestyle due to some health conditions (physical and mental) that made it very hard to get motivation to do any exercise. however, i’d ALWAYS wanted to so something like aerial silks or pole dancing etc because it looked so pretty and fun, and my mom recently found a place that does classes.

when first starting, it was genuinely agony. like i couldn’t do any of the moves because the sheer pressure on my limbs was so much that i couldn’t go upside-down for more than a few seconds. however, for some godforsaken reason (/lighthearted) i decided to stick with it, and over time it stopped hurting, and i started building some muscle! it took weeks to start being able to do the simplest things (ie. diaper pose), but now i can do them easily.

well anyways, to get to the point, ive been very much recently finding myself obsessing over it. not in an unhealthy “i need to improve myself” way but in a “i love how this makes me feel” kind of way. and one of the things ive found i really like about it is the pain that it gives—again, i dont mean in a self-harm way, but in the satisfied endorphins and sore muscles kind of way. it just feels so good when the lesson ends and all my joints are loose and achy.

and yeah lol, ive started to associate that kind of pain and aching and stretched muscles with the good feeling that aerial silks gives me, and i love doing it. it’s such a lovely sport, and is so satisfying, and im starting to think that those associations are turning me into some sort of masochist LMFAO

i love doing it, i love lying upside down and letting my spine decompress, and stretching my limbs and letting myself go weightless in the silks, and the ache of my core when i pull myself up into a diaper climb, and the way my calf muscles have become so strong after months of hard work.

anyways i guess the lesson is that if traditional exercise isnt for you, try alternative exercise!! things like aerial silks, rebounding, bungee fitness, etc, because at least for me the issue was largely mental because traditional exercise didn’t give me the dopamine to keep at it and this new kind is! and of course it isnt for everyone, however i will say that as a fairly fat person myself aerial silks is actually quite accessible. a rigging can (or should be able to) hold 700+ pounds, and because of the extra weight you end up gaining quite a lot of muscle because you have to put in more work to pull yourself up (same reason why fat people often have VERY strong calves, because walking takes more energy than for someone who weighs less)

i just. really love the classes, i love the teachers, and i love seeing all the regulars, and having people who know my name and smile when they see me feels so good. idk, im a lot happier now, i can focus better on schoolwork, and im mad that my mom was right and that exercise DOES make you feel good lol. a lot of that stuff is due to being on medications that help me with my conditions but the exertion of silks definitely helps as well.

er, ted talk over, anyways! highly highly recommend aerial silks, it hurts like hell but if you’re crazy like me you’ll start to like it LMFAO, have a good day

.

[redbirdandbluebird23]

Resilience - Chapter 2

Masterlist

Written for Omega Dick Grayson Week 2024

Awareness comes back to Dick in the slow heavy way that suggests he’s been pumped full of sedatives. There’s a lingering sense of panic he can’t shake, but his head’s so… fuzzy that it’s hard to think. But there’s… Fuck, something’s wrong. He can… Something bad happened… Something…

The traffickers .

It all comes back at once. 

It takes every ounce of his training not to panic and immediately give himself away. Only, this doesn't feel like the last few times he can remember waking up; there’s no pressure around his wrists and ankles suggesting restraints and whatever he’s lying on doesn’t feel like a metal table. But it’s only when he takes a deep breath through his nose that he realises the sterile medical smell has been replaced with the scent he’s come to associate with home . 

He gives in and blinks his eyes open and recognises the ceiling of his childhood bedroom from the glow in the dark stars still stuck up there. He’d offered to take them down the first night Jason stayed over after they started courting, but Jason just smiled and said they were cute. The sight of them settles some of the lingering panic in Dick’s chest, but not as much as the sight of Jason does when he turns his head to the left. 

Jason’s in the nest with him, curled up on his side in a tight ball, the way he only sleeps when he doesn’t feel safe, or something majorly emotional has happened. It’s been happening more often in the months since Elaina was born as he grappled with his changing emotions, but this is worse. Dick knows it’s worse because Jason isn’t touching him other than holding his hand and his eyes are puffy, like he’s been crying. He has no idea how long he was gone, no idea how long they had, how long it took to…

He cuts off that train of thought for the meantime, that doesn’t matter, not right now.

He’s been avoiding leaving Jason alone for long periods of time since the doctor agreed something was wrong, even when he started patrolling again. But this… This would have been stressful at the best of times, he can’t imagine how stressful it’s been with a five month old baby and PPD on top. 

He wants to pull Jason into his arms, reassure them both that he’s home, and go back to sleep, but he needs to see his daughter first, he needs to make sure Elaina is alright. He trusts Jason, more than he trusts anyone else, and he trusts the rest of the family to have made sure they were both alright, but he knows he won’t be able to settle again until he’s made sure for himself. 

Jason shifts slightly as Dick sits up and swings his legs out of bed, but he doesn’t wake up. There’s an IV line (saline only, he guesses, while they figure out exactly what’s in his system) in his arm he carefully removes and hooks over the stand before attempting to stand on shaky legs. His head rushes and he has to use the IV pole to stay upright. He breathes through it until he feels steady (well, steadier), and then walks around the bed to Jason’s side where Elaina’s crib is. He rests his hands on the bar at the end as he looks over at her. She’s fast asleep, but he can’t help but marvel again at how much she looks more and more like Jason whenever he sees her (he knows Jason disagrees, but maybe that just means she’s going to end up an adorable mix of the both of them).

“Dickie?” 

Dick looks up at the sound of Jason’s voice, but it’s the look on Jason’s face that has him stumbling straight to the bed. He looks fragile in a way he hasn’t since the first couple of weeks after Elaina was born ( “Dick, I-I think… I think something’s wrong with me.” ), like he doesn’t quite believe Dick’s actually in the room with him. “Little wing.”

“ Dick .” Jason reaches for him before he gets to the bed and he doesn’t hesitate to grab Jason’s hand and let himself be pulled into the nest. 

He’s still shaky, but he wraps himself around Jason as tight as he can. “I’m right here, Jay. I’m right here .”

Jason grips him back, tighter than Dick can currently manage, and buries his face in Dick’s throat, right against their mating bite. Dick does the same, inhaling Jason’s cinnamon apple scent and letting go. He can feel Jason’s tears against his neck, but he’s sure Jason is feeling them from him too. 

Read on Ao3

[praisethegabs]

HEALING

Re2r!Leon Kennedy x Scientist!Reader

synopsis: leon is in the process of healing, and this is something that requires patience, attention, kindness, and empathy. after everything he went through in the lab, now he is slowly adjusting to the world again, and he needs you more than never. you know he'll live with the scars for the rest of his life, but all that matters is his safety and the new memories he'll make.

warnings: small angst (bc why not?) at first, but ends with fluff. mentions of ptsd, nightmares, traumas, and a lot of care. reader is very supportive and patient with him. the parts in italic are from flashbacks.THIS CONTAINS HEAVY DESCRIPTIONS OF ABUSE! Do NOT read it if triggers you!

word count: 4845k

a/n: this is the second part for Freak, so you guys need to read it first! I wrote it at my job and I was really scared that someone would catch me. Anyways, enjoy it 🩵

TAG: @navstuffs

"things will dissolve and be released and settled into spaces, and you will find your place in this vast and brilliant world." Seeker

He still had nightmares.

And they keep him awake most of the night. He would wake up screaming, his body drenched in sweat, his breath labored, and his limbs trembling as if an electric current surged through his veins. Feeling scared, he seeks comfort, something small to reassure him that he isn't in the cold, white lab anymore.

Sometimes, his nightmares were so deep and dark that it was difficult to bring him back to the waking world.

But you knew since that day that he would go through with this. Although he was no longer in the lab, Leon still suffered from the aftermath of the events. He was haunted by the trauma and horrors he had experienced for many years.

The first weeks at your country house demanded a lot of energy from you. Leon was so exhausted and weak that it seemed like he wouldn't make it. You had to bathe him, change the bandages on his wounds, and essentially encourage him to eat. Eventually, he regained his body weight, and it wasn't necessary to keep the IV on him anymore. This was a significant progress.

But still, neither you nor he would talk about the lab.

It was a forbidden subject, mostly because you knew Leon had PTSD. Considering his well-being, you decided not to discuss what had happened. The stressful experiments, abuse, and everything else left him scared, traumatized, and with deep trust issues, causing him to have no trust in you whatsoever. But with patience and care, he was slowly starting to see you as his friend, not as a threat.

After two months at your country house, Leon was still recovering. Now, he was able to walk around the house without the IV pole next to him, and he didn't feel weak. You had a special diet made for him to help him regain his weight, and it was effective. Secretly, he loved your cooking, but he would never say that - at least not aloud.

Besides following a special diet, he had a rigorous workout routine. He enjoyed exercising outdoors, admiring the lush, green landscape, and basking in the warmth of the sun. After spending so many years trapped inside a padded room, he was always amazed by the beauty of nature. It didn't matter how many days he had already spent sitting in the grass, simply watching the sunset. He felt at peace.

And all of that, thanks to you.

"Please, I... I don't want it," Leon begged, his eyes tearing up as he saw you approaching with a syringe.

"Leon, I promise I won't hurt you," you sighed, as you attempted to administer the medicine. "It's just medicine."

"But it's going to hurt!" Leon shouted, backing against the wall, his body already trembling.

"I wish I could take pills, but this particular medication cannot be given in pill form, Lee," you said as you sat on his bed, attempting to convince him. "And I promise, you won't need to take the medication again. This is the last one."

Leon glanced at you, tears already streaming down his cheeks. It was extremely challenging to administer the medications he required, mainly because they all had to be injected into his body using a syringe, and, understandably, he had a strong aversion to needles.

"The last one?" He asked, searching for any sign of reassurance on your face. Noticing that, you simply nodded your head.

"Yes, the last one. After that, you will be taking pills or liquid. I didn't have time to buy any other medication," you explained to him calmly, hoping he would understand. "If you want to improve, you need to take your medication, okay?"

"But..."" His voice cracked for a moment, and then he looked down, avoiding eye contact. Tears were still falling down his face.

"I know, I know..." you gently approached him, sitting beside him. You placed your hand on his shoulder, gently embracing him. "You're doing well, do you know that? I'm proud of you."

"Am I?" He glances at you, searching once again for reassurance, to which you nod.

"So, will you be brave and let me administer the medicine?" You smiled, finally persuading him to trust you to do your job.

Leon nodded, and you helped him sit back on his bed. He extended his arm, allowing you to inject the needle into his vein. You prepared everything, gently cleaning his arm with a damp cotton pad and antiseptic solution. Right before administering the medication, you glanced at him.

"Alright, close your eyes for me," you instruct him, and he obediently complies by tightly shutting his eyes. "Good boy."

Leon smirks slightly and then groans softly as he feels the needle piercing his skin. A single tear fell from his eye when you finally administered the medication. When you finished, you covered the small bleeding wound with a cute band-aid.

"See?" It's done," you stroke his hair as a way to comfort him after he successfully tackled something that made him feel uneasy. "You did really well."

"I'm sorry," he muttered, sounding sad. Then, when his eyes met yours, he was on the verge of tears once more.

"You don't need to be sorry, sweetheart. I just want you to know that I am not mad at you for being scared, okay? You went through a lot, and now you're healing," you reassured him, gently holding his hands and intertwining them with yours.

Now that he was doing better, you were starting to worry about Umbrella finding you again. Before you left, you made the decision to find a secluded country house, far enough from the city that nobody would disturb you. It was almost like reaching another level. You took numerous safety precautions to ensure that they would not find Leon again.

You never told him about this. You didn't want him to be scared, especially now that he's finally recovering. Not only that, but you knew that someday you would have to tell him. However, this wasn't the best moment to do so. Thinking about the possibility, you had already formulated a Plan B and made all the necessary preparations to start again if needed. As long as you keep him safe, everything will be just fine.

Now, he is enjoying the peaceful life he deserves. No more tests, experiments, or abuse. Just calm and peace of mind.

"Leon!" You shouted his name from the kitchen and waved at him. "Dinner's ready!"

"Alright, I'm coming," you saw him nod his head, then redirect his attention to the sunset again. You smiled softly, knowing that he wouldn't see it.

He was a good boy, still learning about the world. He still had some submissive traits, but he was learning that he had the power to refuse and express his feelings and thoughts. Teaching Leon that he was allowed to say "no" was the next step in this journey, although you were having some trouble doing so.

"This smells good," Leon said as he walked into the house through the kitchen door. "What is it?"

"Can you guess?" You smiled at him, positioning yourself in front of the oven to block his view of what you were baking.

"It smells like... lasagna," he blushed deeply. On Fridays, you usually pamper him by giving him a break from his diet.

"Yep." "That's right," you nodded, smiling. Without hesitation, Leon set the table, preparing for dinner. "Thanks, sweetheart."

You both sat at the ornate wooden table for dinner. While you gave him a slice, you could see his eyes shining. Back at the lab, the food Leon had barely eaten smelled and tasted awful. That's why he was so skinny and weak, but now he can eat whatever he wants. Lasagna was one of his favorite dishes.

"I had a dream last night," Leon said after a moment. He glanced at you, expecting your attention.

"Really? About what?” you asked curiously, smiling at him again.

"I don't remember exactly, but... I think it was me before the lab," he said, and the last word sounded cold. "I was happy."

"Aren't you happy now?" You asked again, taking a bite of your lasagna before redirecting your gaze towards him.

His face turned pale, and he started to stutter again in response to your sudden question.

"Relax, I'm just teasing you," you laughed, trying to lighten his mood. He sighed, feeling relieved. "This is a good thing, I suppose." "You're improving, and soon you'll be able to leave if you want."

"Leave?" He raised his eyebrows, displaying visible confusion.

"Yes. You can now make your own choices, Leon. This means you can decide whether to stay or go," you smiled softly, then held his hand again.

"But... I don't want to go. I want to stay here... with you," he almost whispered the last part, but you managed to hear it nonetheless. "You're the only person I know, and the only one who cares about me. I feel safe with you, and for the first time in my entire life, I am happy."

His words were full of honesty. The way he looked at you and the sincerity behind every word he spoke. You nodded once more, then embraced him tenderly. At this point, you had nothing else to say. Instead, you felt butterflies in your stomach and a warm sensation in your chest. You wouldn't force Leon to stay with you against his own will, but now, if he wanted to do so, you wouldn't refuse.

"Are you sure about that?" You asked him after you broke the embrace, gazing into his baby blue eyes.

"Yes, I do," he nodded, whispering. He closed his eyes for a moment, gently touching his forehead to yours in a tender manner.

You're reading a book, one of your favorites. You don't remember exactly when this started happening, but now it serves as a form of therapy for both of you. He lies between your thighs, you stroke his hair, and everything is at peace.

Leon was peacefully lying in your lap, his body comfortably nestled between your thighs, and his head resting on your stomach as you gently stroked his blonde hair. You can't tell if he's awake or asleep, but you know he's calm because of his gentle breathing. His thumb traces circles on your leg, and for a long moment, there is only the sound of rain and the warmth emanating from the fireplace.

“NO! NO, PLEASE!” Leon woke up screaming in the middle of the night. "Shit, holy shit."

"Leon, what's going on?" You opened his door to find him shirtless and gasping for breath. Sweat fell down his face, and his frightened blue eyes sought solace.

"I... I had an n-nightmare,” he said, his voice cracking and his entire body shaking with fear.

He started to cry, sobbing loudly. Leon tried to hide his face in the blankets, but you gently uncovered his face, embracing him tightly. You sighed, but you didn't say a word about it. With a gentle touch, you began to stroke his hair, softly whispering a lullaby in his ear to soothe him.

"I was there again. They were hurting me," Leon hissed, his voice still cracking with tears and sobs. "I can't sleep."

He looks at you, and seeing him in such a broken and vulnerable state makes your heart ache. He feels guilty. He thinks he's a burden, and you shouldn't waste your time with him. None of this is true, of course, and you still need to remind him of that.

“I-I'm sorry. I didn't want to wake you up," he sobs quietly, closing his eyes and examining his own hands. The intravenous line on his right hand is covered with transparent bandages, which are connected to the pole next to his side. This serves as a constant reminder of how frail his body is.

"It's okay, don't worry about it. Come here, come lie with me." You gently hold his hand, leading him to your room.

Leon nodded, and with his slow pace, he followed you while holding his IV pole for support. It has only been two weeks since you brought him to your country house, and he still struggles with nightmares. He walks very slowly, and fatigue quickly overcomes him. You open the door and walk beside him until you reach your king-size bed, seating him on the mattress and adjusting the bedside table next to his side.

"I wish I could chase away the monsters... I wish I could protect you even as you sleep, but I can't," you whispered, kneeling on the floor, still holding his hand, and witnessing the pain he is in. "But I'm here, and nothing bad will ever happen to you again."

"I'm sorry," he sobs quietly, avoiding your gaze.

"Remember what I told you? There's nothing to be sorry for," you smiled gently, pushing the blankets away so he could lay down. "This isn't your fault."

"Back at the lab, they always made me think everything was my fault. They used to say that I deserved to be punished, that I deserved to be hurt and treated like some kind of animal," Leon said vaguely, his face still down as he avoided your gaze. "You know, one of the rules was that we shouldn't talk unless spoken to, and we could only say 'yes, sir' or 'yes, ma'am'. But even when we were allowed to talk, they would beat us and say that we deserved it."

Leon never spoke about the lab, and you never insisted on discussing the subject. You knew that one day he would open up to you, but you never thought it would happen after a nightmare. So, you decided to show your support by letting him vent, holding his hand, and ensuring he knew he was safe.

"During my first month, I was beaten up almost every day, at least ten times. They would often beat me simply because I was an innocent child who would cry out for my mother and plead for help. I was naive, but after a while, I learned the hard way that I wouldn't be rescued and my parents were not coming for me," Leon says, and you can see that he's crying again. He bites his lower lip, breathes in and out, and shakes once more. "There was a doctor. He pretended to be my friend, but... he touched me. I cried. I felt dirty and scared. He was supposed to take care of me, not hurt me the way he did… he said I could trust him, but when I did, he turned into a monster. He touched me for months, and nobody took any action. One day, when he tried to touch me, I fought back. This caused me to spend a month or two inside a cold, concrete cell, but it was worth it. I never saw him again"

You were shocked by his story. His file didn't contain this information, and you began to ponder what other things they were hiding. You felt disgusted.

"After I attacked the doctor, the situation deteriorated. They locked me inside a concrete cell. It was so cramped that I had very little space to move around. To make matters worse, the cell had an open top, which meant that whenever it rained, I would get drenched and remain wet for hours until the rain finally stopped. When the rain stopped, they would enter the cell and take me out, usually beating me and locking me up again," Leon let out a loud sob and a deep hiccup. His nose and eyes were red at this point. "But I didn't care. At least, I could feel the cold rain and the warmth of the sun, and I could breathe fresh air. He never touched me again. I don't know what happened, but ever since that day, I learned the hard way that I couldn't trust anyone."

He glances at you. His baby blue eyes shone with tears and sadness, his soul shattered into a thousand pieces, desperately seeking healing. Trying to find peace.

“I know none of this is my fault, but no matter how hard I try to convince myself, when I look in the mirror, I remember what he did to me and… and…” he doesn't finish his sentence. Leon started to cry again, and you immediately leaned in and rested his head on your shoulder.

The way he cried made his body ache, and you could feel him jerking as he sobbed loudly, to the point where he shut down completely. His mind is in chaos, he is drowning in darkness, and everything is a mess. He cannot talk, and he cannot breathe. You had never seen him like that before, and it scared you.

"It's okay, everything will be alright, I promise," you whispered, gently kissing the top of his head to soothe him.

It took at least an hour for Leon to completely calm himself down. You managed to lay him on your bed, using the blanket to cover him and keep his body warm. Gently, you moved his hair away from his face and hugged him tightly. Leon was so close to you that you could feel his breath on your face. You gently traced your fingers down his back, mindful of his limits, until he fell asleep.

It was the first time he had slept the entire night.

"What are you reading?" he asks in a husky voice after a moment of silence.

"Hamlet," you replied softly, your fingers entwined in his hair as you gently stroked it.

"Can you read it for me?" he asks softly, lifting his head so he can see you with his big, puppy-like blue eyes. "I like hearing you."

As the rain tapped lightly against the windowpane, you sat comfortably on the sofa with Leon's head cradled in your lap. The room was filled with the comforting scent of old books and bathed in a soft, warm glow emitted by the lamp on the side table. You turned the pages of the weathered book, your fingers tracing the well-worn lines of Shakespeare's Hamlet.

Leon's eyes were closed, his breathing steady and rhythmic, and a faint smile played on his lips as he listened to your voice. Your words flowed like a gentle stream, carrying the weight of a timeless tale. You read with a soft, melodic cadence, your voice rising and falling, like the raindrops outside the window.

"To be or not to be, that is the question," you began, your voice filled with contemplation. "Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles, and by opposing end them."

The rain outside seemed to synchronize with the soliloquy, its gentle patter against the glass creating a soothing backdrop for Shakespeare's words. You continued, your fingers running through Leon's hair, reciting, "To die: to sleep; no more; and by a sleep to say we end the heartache and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation devoutly to be wished."

Your voice wove a tapestry of emotions, your words caressing Leon's soul as the story of Hamlet unfolded. He felt so at peace, as if nothing in this world could ruin this moment. He loved the way you read to him. He loves being touched by you.

For someone who was treated like an animal for most of his life, being treated as a human being with feelings and emotions certainly caused him to break. Leon never thought he could escape his nightmare. He never imagined that his life would turn out like this. Two months ago, Leon gave up all hope he had. He made peace with himself, accepting that he would die in the lab.

But you saved him.

You saved him in every possible way. You came when everything seemed to be lost, when all he knew was darkness and pain. You were the light he needed, the touch of the sun, the warmth of an embrace, and the happiness he desperately craved. You were the missing piece he had been searching for all those years. But until this very moment, he had to walk a long road.

The moonlight bathed the countryside in an ethereal glow, and Leon had spent a week recuperating in the country house, gradually healing his body and spirit. After his first week at home, you observed him gradually regain strength, patiently anticipating the opportune moment to provide him with a symbolic liberation from his past. Finally, put an end to this chapter once and for all. On this particular night, after serving him dinner, you approached his bedside with a gentle expression, filled with kindness and determination.

"Leon, I have something for you," you whispered, your voice soft and soothing. "I think it's time for us to finally leave the lab behind and move on."

Leon, still weak and pale, looked at you with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation. He was beginning to trust you implicitly, but the memories of the lab still clung to him like shadows.

"What do you mean?" Leon asks, his voice still weak and husky, as if he's struggling to stay awake.

"Come with me," you smiled soothingly at him, stroking his hair.

With great care, you helped him to his feet, wrapping a warm shawl around his shoulders, while he used the pole to support his weight. You both walked slowly, your steps synchronized with his weakened state, into the embrace of the moonlit night. Leon's steps were still uncertain, and his body felt fragile after a week of rest and recovery. The path you two followed led to a field — an expanse of wildflowers in full bloom. This field was alive with the beauty of wildflowers swaying in the gentle breeze. It was a symbol of nature's resilience and the potential for fresh starts. The fragrant air surrounded both of you, providing a refreshing contrast to the sterile environment of the lab.

You led him to a makeshift altar beneath a towering oak tree, with candles flickering and dancing in the breeze. On the altar, you placed a small bundle of clothes — the very same garments he had worn as a test subject in the lab.

"Leon Scott Kennedy," you said softly, "Today marks one week since we left the lab, and it has been a week since you embarked on your new life. I want you to leave the past behind and find closure. I want you to find peace and happiness, but for that, we need to do something first. These clothes represent the darkest chapter of your life. It's time to say goodbye to them."

As you handed him the old lab coat, the attire itself served as a constant reminder of his torment. The fabric was worn and tattered, bearing the marks of his suffering. He hesitated for a moment, his fingers trembling. The memories, the pain, the suffering — all were contained in that fabric. The old uniform was worn and tattered, bearing the marks of his suffering. But now, it was time to let go. With a deep breath, he placed the clothes on the fire that you had kindled.

The flames engulfed the garments, and the flickering light cast dancing shadows on Leon's tear-streaked face. The clothes started to burn, gradually disintegrating into ashes and embers. As he watched the fire consume his past, tears started to blur his vision. As the fire engulfed them with a voracious intensity, consuming them bit by bit, you witnessed Leon's tears cascading down his face.

He cried for the pain he had endured, for the years stolen from him, and for the loss of innocence. But with each tear that fell, a weight lifted from his shoulders.

You held him close, with your arm around his shoulders, and whispered, "It's okay to cry, Leon. You're finally free."

He sank to his knees in the field filled with wildflowers, his heart burdened by the weight of his past but also uplifted by the promise of a fresh start. As the last of the lab clothes turned to ashes, Leon realized that he had emerged from the darkness. He was no longer a guinea pig, but a man, free to write the story of his own life.

He cried so much that night. He finally found peace.

Leon stood on the porch of the charming country house, holding a cup of steaming tea. The world around him was a picturesque canvas of green hills and blooming wildflowers. Birds sang a melodious chorus, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the ancient trees. The air was filled with a sense of peace he had never experienced before.

The next morning, you woke up and found his bed empty. This had become quite normal by now. Leon always wakes up before you and prepares breakfast. So, after getting out of bed and taking care of your morning routine, you went downstairs. The kitchen door was open, and a chilly breeze blew in. Despite the sun shining in the sky, it was still cold. You spotted him and smiled, grabbing your coffee mug.

As Leon sipped his tea, his thoughts wandered back to the years he had spent as a captive in that sterile lab. The painful experiments, the isolation, and the uncertainty, each memory weighed heavily on his soul. He had endured the unimaginable, and yet, here he was - finally free.

The contrast between his past and the serene present was staggering. He had been reduced to a mere subject of scientific curiosity, dehumanized and robbed of his dignity. But now, in the tranquil countryside, he was rediscovering the true essence of life.

He had his eyes fixed on a solitary red rose that swayed gently in the breeze. As he gazed at the rose, he couldn't help but wonder about the life he had missed during his captivity. His mind was filled with a whirlwind of questions. What had he missed while he was trapped? How has the world outside changed? What had become of his family and friends, if they still existed at all? Leon's thoughts were a labyrinth of uncertainty, a journey through the mysteries of his past.

A butterfly landed on a nearby flower, and he watched it with fascination. It was a symbol of freedom and transformation, a reminder that he too had the chance to start anew. With each passing day, he rediscovered the simple joys of life — the taste of fresh strawberries, the sound of laughter after a joke, and the sensation of grass under his fingers.

As the rose swayed in the breeze, he silently made a silent promise to himself: to cherish every moment of freedom, to embrace the beauty of the world, and to make the most of the life that had been stolen from him for far too long.

"I know you're watching me," Leon says, not turning back to face you, and taking another sip of his tea. Chamomile is his favorite.

"Penny for your thoughts?" you said, getting closer to him and standing by his side.

"I never thought I would see the world again. I kept imagining things in my mind as a way to escape that hell and forget the pain. But now that I'm here, I have a new chance, and I don't intend to waste the rest of it." Leon looks at you tenderly, his hand reaching out for yours. "I thought I was going to die in there, but you saved me. You gave me my life back, you helped me heal, and I'm here today because of you."

The smile on your lips was almost involuntary.

"I know it was hard for you, but thank you for not giving up on me," he says, his baby blue eyes locked onto yours.

"I would never give up on you, Leon," you almost whisper, your voice filled with a sudden happiness you never knew existed.

He smiled, then kissed your forehead. As the sun rose, the two of you sat side by side, observing the sky and the sunlight caress the lush field. After all this time, he allowed himself to feel again, and at first, it felt strange. It felt uncomfortable. He was scared that he would be hurt until you proved to him that you were not like the others. The way you made him feel, the way you showed him that life could be simple, and that it was okay to feel and be afraid sometimes, changed him. He was insecure, traumatized, and scared. You helped him see the other side of life. You found him when he was lost. Now, he had something to believe.

He was free, and he had you by his side. And no one would ever take his freedom away again. 

[oliversrarebooks]

Febuwhump Day 1: Helpless

tw: forced drugging, restraints, medical whump, forced brain surgery, implied mind control, stun weapon

It was like hitting a brick wall.

One minute, Toshiro was slamming into henchman after henchman, taking them out at a speed faster than the human mind could comprehend. The next minute, his face was rapidly meeting the floor.

His ears were ringing, his vision blurring as his eyes threatened to close on him. His muscles were weak, and it was if someone had pulled the plug on the nerves connecting his brain to his body. The tile floor was cold against his cheek as he fell to the floor with an embarrassing thump, as gracefully as a sack of potatoes, and equally able to move.

Some kind of stun gun. Stunning... thing. Vibrations. His newly fogged mind tried to reason through the situation. He was in the middle of Dr. Moon's lair, and although he'd cut a wide swath through her armored goons and lab interns, he hadn't spotted the good doctor herself yet. 

Which meant that this was probably all a trap, and he had obligingly raced into it at top speed.

Fuck. Whatever that weapon was had rendered him helpless. Unless he could recover quickly, he'd be screwed.

He struggled to regain his bearings through the dizziness, managing to force his weakened arms to push him up off the floor, when the low, strong vibrations racked his body again and knocked his tenuous grasp on control far away.

"Well, now, I'd call that experiment a rousing success," said a familiar and infuriatingly smug voice. 

Toshiro struggled to focus on the clean white sneakers that stepped in front of his face. Dr. Moon crouched down in front of him, grabbing his chin and directing his blurred gaze into hers. 

"Did you enjoy it as well?"

"Fffff..." Toshiro tried to get his mouth to cooperate enough to at least tell her to fuck off.

"Fantastic? Fabulous? Is that what you're trying to say? I think that's what you're trying to say," she said, nonchalantly snapping thick metal restraints on Toshiro's wrists. 

Oh, this situation was getting better and better, wasn't it? He could probably use his supersonic vibration to break these cuffs, but it would take some time, and that was at full power, which he most certainly was not. He was still stunned enough that he felt like he might pass out at any moment.

"Don't worry, you're in good hands now, my dear little hero," she said, running a hand through his hair. "Katie, can you get my guest his little party favor?"

A young woman in a lab coat looked confused by the request. "Party favor...?"

Dr. Moon sighed. "The IV. I'm talking about the IV I had you prepare."

"Oh, yes!" she said. "Right away, doctor."

"And let's make him more comfortable! Can two of you get him onto the surgical table?"

"Yes, doctor."

IV drugs? Surgical table? Toshiro's blood ran cold. What the hell was she planning? Her experiments had roughed him up many a time, but she'd never done anything like this. 

"Whaaaa..." he slurred pathetically, flopping like a dead fish as a couple of henchmen lifted him onto a padded table. He was still too numb and dazed to fight, and his window of escape seemed to rapidly be coming to a close. As a couple of scrawny scientists effortlessly held him down on the table -- humiliating enough that his embarrassment fought with his growing fear -- Katie returned with a large bag of translucent blue liquid on an IV pole.

"Oh, you're going to just love this, Toshiro," Dr. Moon said, brandishing the IV line's needle with theatrical flair. "You never get enough breaks, do you? I'm about to give you a nice long one."

Toshiro couldn't help his composure breaking slightly. It was one thing to be injured while fighting, or even to be captured and tortured. It was another thing entirely to be rendered unconscious, completely defenseless against whatever the mad scientist wanted to do with him.

"No need to look so upset. This won't hurt at all. You're just going to get very, very sleepy. You'll be just a bit drowsy and slow for the next, oh, let's say the next while. I wouldn't operate any heavy machinery."

She was bringing that IV needle closer to his elbow. He summoned all of his strength to try and pull away, knowing that as soon as he had that drug pumping into his body, it'd all be over. Unfortunately, his muscles were still largely unresponsive from the double stun just a few minutes ago.

Damn it, he had to -- !

The doctor effortlessly got the IV into his vein with a practiced hand, taping it down securely. He looked on in horror as the light blue liquid snaked down the tube and into his arm, willing the drug to somehow stop before it reached him. His arm felt cold and heavy at the injection site as the sedative began to flow freely into his system.

"That should kick in long before you get your bearings from my wonderful stun weapon," she said, stroking his cheek and looking down at him with malicious glee. "And I want to drink every last drop of your fear as you go under."

Toshiro glared as best as he could, testing his powers. Maybe if he could get his supersonic speed working, he could dislodge the IV from his elbow before he absorbed too much of the drug. His fast metabolism meant it took a lot to put him down, anyway.

He was already so groggy from being stunned, and so focused on forcing his uncooperative body to move, that he didn't even notice the buzzing in the back of his skull until it was too late. In seconds, the buzzing transformed into a deep drowsiness, muffling his thoughts like a blanket of fresh-fallen snow, draining him of energy, making his eyelids droop.

"And there it is!" said Dr. Moon with a cackle. "Isn't that the most delicious feeling of helplessness? You look so tired already. Don't fight it, now. Just let my beautiful drugs sing you to sleep. A nice little lullaby..."

Toshiro's efforts to try to shake the IV off had turned into a desperate struggle against the urge to give in and go to sleep. He was so exhausted, and he could feel his mind zoning in and out, his eyelids threatening to close. But he couldn't give in. 

"Don't worry, you'll be sedated, but not entirely unconscious. We can't have you fully under for brain surgery, you know."

The shock of adrenaline forced his eyes back open. Fuck. Anything but that.

"No need to panic, it's not a lobotomy. We don't use ugly words like that here. And my methods are far more precise," she said, as Toshiro's heart raced. "I'm just going to... slow you down. Make you more malleable. Easily influenced, let's say. And at only a small cost to your intelligence."

His half-asleep mind woke up enough to panic. Suddenly, he could move. He felt strength in his arm again, enough strength to try and shake free of the IV line that would be the end of him.

He had to get it out at any cost. If he didn't, when he next woke up, he might be some stupefied henchman to his archnemesis, his faculties cut out and left on the floor of her lair. A fate far worse than death -- at least in death, he'd be remembered as a hero. Not remembered as a drooling, dull-witted minion who used to be a hero, cut down by one of his former comrades.

No, he couldn't allow that.

His powers responded, and he willed his super speed to vibrate his arm hard enough to loosen the tape, to dislodge the needle. As soon as he got rid of the threat of the drug, he could break free of the bonds and escape.

"Oh, dear," said Dr. Moon. "Katie, be a dear and take the fight out of our guest again."

Toshiro's eyes widened just before he felt the stun weapon rumble through his body. His hold over his power slipped, his limbs sinking back onto the table. Disoriented and unable to move, the sedative quickly took hold of him once again.

"There, there." The doctor replaced the tape on the IV line. "Just relax, go to sleep, and it will all be over soon. Poor, helpless hero."

He groaned weakly, Dr. Moon's evil grin fading from sight as his vision tunneled.

"He's almost out. Finish preparation in the operating room," she said over her shoulder, before turning back to him. She leaned in close and whispered in his ear, running a hand through his hair. "If all goes well, you won't be waking up as yourself ever again," she cooed. "You're going to go to sleep, and I'm going to win."

Her voice sounded muffled, from far away, and his tongue was too thick and clumsy to respond back.

"Go to sleep. Just go to sleep..."

----

I've been struggling a bit with writing and the Febuwhump prompts looked delicious, so I decided to do a few of them!

New Bookseller chapter soon, promise.

[thevampiremarie]

Summertime Sadness (part 4)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader

Second chance romance, heavy angst, hurt/very little comfort

-

Now: Nothing can stop Ghost from going to you Then: Simon asks you why you're in therapy

NOW

Ghost POV

-

Ghost is arguing with the nurse at the front desk when the screaming starts.

She won’t let him in to see you. He was about as polite as he could muster for any medical professional in scrubs at the beginning, but a scowl grew deeper and deeper under his mask with every denial. She said you weren’t taking visitors at this time and asked him to leave. And then the nurse switched her story and claimed you were too busy. He went back and forth with the nurse a few times, resolutely holding his ground. Ghost needed to see you, even if he didn’t know why.

And then he hears it. Howling. Plaintive wails, over and over again, rising like the wind and then stopping long enough for the sufferer to cough and clear their throat. More crying, more screaming.

Ghost recognizes who that is. “Simon!” You sob, your hoarse, despairing voice muffled by the thick walls of concrete separating you from him.

He hears you blubber incoherently and someone tries to soothe you. The tosser is doing a horrid job at it. When you scream out once more, begging for your childhood friend, the pain and suffering you add to Ghost’s name makes him feel like he’s just been shot in the chest with a hollow point bullet. Each horrible noise is a shard of the casing digging further into his heart. Wounds like that can’t be mended.

It sounds as if someone is torturing you or something, maybe holding a red-hot poker to your face. Ghost would know what that sounds like. He’s lost count at this point how many people he’s had to hurt. It never bothered him, whether they deserved it or not. Those men, women, and young boys were just the poor bastards unlucky enough to end up on the wrong side of his knife. Or staring down the barrel of his pistol. Or at the end of a rope hooked over a water pipe in the ceiling.

But the knowledge that it’s you that is being hurt bothers him a whole lot.

Ghost snaps when the sounds suddenly stop.

The quiet is always worse than the screaming. Birds go quiet in the forest when a predator moves among them. People go quiet when they die and have nothing left to give him.

Nothing will stop him from getting to you. Nothing. Not even God himself.

He bodily sets the nurse aside without so much as a word and is through the double doors in an instant. Ghost’s timing is perfect - a staff member in blue scrubs is on his way out and all Ghost needs to do is charge past him.

Like a shark following the scent of blood, he tracks where the screaming was with unerring precision. There are many doors here, but he knows which one is hiding you.

It’s the third one on the left.

The nurses try to stop him. They chatter noisily in his ear about “Sir, you’re not allowed to be here” and “Sir, please stop and return to the waiting room”, or “If you don’t leave this area immediately, we’ll call security.” Let security come, Ghost thinks. Good fucking luck. The poor bastards will need it.

But this isn’t about them. This is about you, and whatever the hell it is they’re doing to you.

When he forces the door open, he sees you thrashing and twisting in the hospital bed. The orderlies have managed to restrain you, pinning your limbs down with straps. Someone rights the IV pole you must have knocked over.

Ghost will remember the agonized expression on your face until the day he dies.

Your skin is soaked with a shiny mixture of sweat and tears, and fresh blood bubbles up under the bandages on your wrists and soaks through the paper gown covering your thighs.

Crimson flowers bloom in your sclera from burst blood vessels and the air reeks of vomit and the acrid tang of fear.

A nurse with cold, narrowed eyes reconnects your IV line to the port in the crook of your elbow, callously wiping away excess blood with a cotton pad soaked in rubbing alcohol. That shit stings you and he feels sympathetic pain scrape across his skin.

“What’s wrong with her,” Ghost demands through bared teeth, hissing like a snake about to strike. “What the fuck is going on.”

Your eyes roll back in your head until you sag limply to the sweat-soaked mattress. “We told you she wasn’t taking visitors at this time. She’s in acute benzodiazepine withdrawal. You need to leave.”

“‘M not going anywhere. You’re fuckin’ torturing her. Stop it.” Ghost moves closer to you, close enough that if you’d just open your eyes, you’d recognize him. He hasn’t been this close to a person outside of work in years. “Leave her alone. I said-“

“Right now, she’s a danger to herself and others. The restraints stay until… it passes.”

You give up on the screaming in favor of piteous, gut-wrenching crying. Your body wants to curl up on its side and hide, you want to tuck your head under your arms and make it all go away, Ghost can tell.

He calls your name as he takes one of your shaking hands in his. Ghost calls your name one more time, resisting the urge to shake your shoulders and force you to open your eyes and look at him, goddamnit.

But there’s nothing he can do.

Ghost can only kneel here in a room that reminds him more of a morgue than it does a hospital and feel your weak pulse in your wrist and hope that he never feels it stop.

Finally, your lips twitch and move as if you’re chanting words under your breath. You’re hallucinating.

I’m sorry. Simon. Simon. Come back. I’m scared. Pick up the phone. Please. I’m sorry. Simon. Help me. Don’t leave me here alone. I need you. They never came back for me and you’re all I have. Call me back when you can.

-

10 YEARS AGO

Reader POV

-

You’re not entirely sure why Simon fascinates you so much. This place has no shortage of brooding, crotchety, “Rebel Without A Cause” types. If anything, you’re the odd one out amongst thirty other kids because you don’t wake up in the morning wanting to cause property damage or sulk in the corner during group therapy.

But sometimes when he’s sulking in the corner during anger management classes, his grimace turns into a softer, sadder expression and he looks lost, even scared, and you just feel that… He’s different. Simon could be a million different things if he wanted to, as long as there was someone who didn’t give up on him.

It’s with this mission in mind that you sit next to him during lunch with your tray of a sad-looking hamburger but surprisingly delicious crispy fries. “Why don’t you like it here?”

Simon glares at you for interrupting his riveting contemplation of an uneaten apple. You shrug it off and start working on your fries. Maybe he has a stomachache.

When it’s clear that you’re more involved with your food than you are with his “I hate you” vibes, he deigns to answer. “‘Cause I don’t belong. Don’t even fuckin’ know why they shipped me here,” The boy grumbles in a thick British accent as he runs a hand through his short white-blonde hair.

You try not to look at the scars on his hands. For one thing, it’s rude.

The faded marks aren’t quite in the right place to be self inflicted.

You wordlessly hold out a fry. Simon inspects it for a few moments as if he suspects poisoning. He takes it without looking at you and a shiver runs through you when his fingers press against yours.

“The more you fight the program, the harder it will be to get discharged. If you wanted advice. Sorry. You don’t need my advice. I didn’t mean to give you that impression-“ As you ramble, you unintentionally rip the fry you’re holding into tiny little bits of crumbly potato.

Simon cuts you off. “You talk too much,” He says flatly.

That’s it. You must be the biggest idiot in the world. Why did you have to embarrass yourself in front of a cute boy, of all people?

You stare at the sad, torn chunks of potato and feel a strange kinship with them. “…I guess.” You shouldn’t have said anything at all.

After a minute, the boy next to you sighs.

“Thanks. For the tip.”

“We gotta look out for each other,” You say with a smile, perking right up again.

“You’re not from here, are you?” Simon doesn’t like to sit like a normal person. He’s hunched weirdly on the chair with one knee up and the other leg sprawled out on the ground. His limbs are simply too tall to dangle.

As you watch him rest his chin on his knee, you can see vertebrae move under the skin on the back of his neck. Fine, downy baby hairs trail hazy and soft from his hairline.

You look away with a loud cough and bright red face. “I’m not. Technically, they shipped me here, too. I almost sat in the cargo section of the plane across the Atlantic.”

A brief flash of envy flickers in his eyes as he sits up straight.  “That far away? And you don’t wanna go home?” Simon speaks like if he could, he’d grow wings and fly far, far away from here. Not just the facility, but everything. He’d like New York, you think. He’d fit right in. The coarse British scowl thing he has going on would scare off any ornery New Yorker.

“I mean… It's not so bad here. Not for me, at least. There isn’t much to do at home so I might as well do this.”

When Simon gestures towards your completely untouched burger, you push the plate towards him. “You seem normal. Why are you here?” He asks around a mouthful of crumbs, spewing saliva everywhere. Like every teenage boy, his metabolism must be through the roof and he eats as if the food is about to run away from him.

“It’s really, like, not that interesting. I promise. You don’t care.” You shift uncomfortably in your seat, suddenly riveted by the state of your cuticles.

Simon burps. Gross. “Fine, then I don’t.”

You wrinkle your nose and wave your hand performatively. He almost laughs. Almost. Like a baby laugh. One third of a laugh.

This isn’t a good subject for you to laugh back. Maybe one day the whole thing will be a funny joke you can say over dinner, surrounded by people who love you. It doesn’t feel very funny right now. It… hurts.

“No- no… sorry. Yeah. Um. My mother decided many years too late that she never wanted kids. So she went… wherever she is now. And then I snapped, or so they told me. My dad thought I would cope with the trauma better here than in our hometown, where I would be reminded of her everywhere. Honestly? Dad was probably just trying to get rid of me. But once I’m better, he promised he would pick me up and we’ll fly home together,” You finish softly.

With unexpected delicacy, Simon has the decency to avert his dark eyes and fiddle with the little gold chain hanging past his sharp collarbones. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. It could be a lot worse. I’m lucky.” You smile, imagining thirty years from now when all of this will be simply memories made beautiful and shiny by nostalgia. Your dad will come get you. You’ll go back to America, graduate high school, and go to a fabulous college. Simon can be your lifelong pen pal.

“You are.” His mouth purses as he tugs his sleeves down over his wrists, watching you examine the tan line on your unblemished arm from your watch.

Tagging: @devcica @igotmajordaddyissues @almightywdm @copiasratscheese @nerdyreaderpapi @schmelscorner @johfaam0 @babygirl-panda19 @illyanam1011 @q8852p @loser-alert @vantae-tea @alexisv15 @chessecakelover @allaboutirem0 @darling006 @aloraaaxcrystalzx @berryjuicyy @desideriumlove @aurora-basin @klttypawss @elysian0612

[filthyjoetini]

Stumblin' In

a/n: Part 2! Enjoy! Likes, reblogs and feedback are always welcome. The usual thank you goes out to @barfightzanddiscolightz for taking her time to beta read and edit and giving input <3

warnings: none

wordcount: 2.6k

part 1 - part 3 - part 4

Part 2

Just as you had finally made yourself somewhat comfortable in the unforgiving embrace of the hospital bed, your bladder made itself known once again. Groaning, you pressed the call button for the fifth time in the past three hours. How much can one person piss? Stupid I.V. drip, you thought to yourself.

-

When they had first wheeled you into the emergency room, you were quickly surrounded by a flurry of nurses and a doctor. They had palpated your neck and spine as well as the back of your head and damn, did it hurt like a bitch. Because of your reaction to the examination and to be on the safe side, the doctor had ordered an x-ray of your neck, spine, and ribs.

You had immediately been pushed out of the emergency room, down a very long and bright corridor and into the x-ray room. In the x-ray room, you had bravely endured the examination, even squeezing your eyes shut, despite the x-ray technician telling you that nothing would happen. Your inner child, however, was hoping for at least one laser beam. Later, you blamed the concussion for your strange behaviour.

Back at the ER, the doctor had checked your results and fortunately found nothing more than a big bump and that your obvious concussion could be diagnosed. Additionally, they had confirmed what the paramedics had already told you: you would have to stay in the hospital for at least a 24-hour observation, and the worst part of it all was that you were not allowed to eat. So, they had put you on a drip, which fed you all the nutrients and medication directly into your bloodstream. The actual procedure turned out to be a mammoth task. It had taken them several tries to find a vein, and when they finally did, they had managed to pop one, turning your arm all bruised and blue. It looked like someone had twisted your arm.

-

“Hi. Do you need to go to the toilet again?”, the nurse asked with a smile, as she stepped into the room.

You nodded and pushed yourself up a little. Immediately, the nurse was at your side, tutting you.

“Dear, I’ve told you not to overexert yourself. I’m here to help you with that. Come on, take my arm.”

You grabbed her arm, and she pulled you into a standing position before taking the IV pole in her other hand and slowly leading you to the small adjacent bathroom.

Once the nurse had brought you back to your bed, you decided to scroll through TikTok, which you got bored with rather quickly. You thought about calling your best friend and your dad again but decided against it. Firstly, because they had both been alerted by the lady at the desk after she had entered you in the system, that you had been admitted to the hospital. You had insisted on giving her both names and phone numbers as emergency contacts and so they had both been waiting for you in your room as soon as ER had transferred you. Secondly, because it was already nearing midnight, and you were sure that they both would be asleep by now.

Before you closed your contact list, you saw it again. The short three-letter name that had only been on the list for a few hours: Joe.

Gingerly, you tapped on the name and a new iMessage chat opened.

Hey...

The three dots immediately appeared, and you almost threw your phone at the wall opposite your bed.

Hi there. How are you?

Blushing, you began typing your reply, your fingers gliding thoughtlessly over your phone’s touchscreen.

I’m fine, all things considered. I have to stay for a 24-hour observation, and I’m not allowed to eat solid food. They have me on a drip, which makes me piss like a horse...

Oh wow. Sorry to hear that 😉

Oh no! Oh fuck. Totally TMI.

Sorry! That was TMI!

Haha. No worries.

Chewing on your lips, you started typing again. You had one burning question to ask him.

OK. Cool. Um. Also. HOW THE HECK DID YOU PUT YOUR NUMBER INTO MY PHONE? DID YOU HACK IT?

Hahaha...do you seriously think I could hack a phone?

Yes?! I mean, it could be your job for all I know!

Hahaha. It’s far from what I do for a living.

Your phone was unlocked. I believe you turned off your auto-lock-thingy or whatever...

You quickly opened your settings, and he was absolutely right, you had it turned off. Snorting, you reopened the chat.

Wow there, IT-God, you were right.

IT-God...good one, Humpty Dumpty.

Stop calling me that!

What else am I supposed to call you. I don’t know your name. You’re Humpty Dumpty in my phone now.

Omg...noooo.

What’s your name, Bambi on ice?

Another one? Is he serious?, you thought with a groan but, quickly let him know your name.

Alright, changed it. See! *attachment*

Smiling at the visual confirmation, you let out a small yawn. Your eyes suddenly became very heavy.

I’m going to get some shut eye, I’m really tired.

Totally understandable. You had a rough day.

Bye Joe x

Bye...sleep tight. Keep me updated. x

---

You woke up from what you considered was the worst night’s sleep you had ever had. If it wasn’t the weird position you were forced to sleep in waking you, it was when a nurse would come check on you from time to time or help you when you needed to use the loo for the gazillionth time.

You were relieved when morning finally came. The first thing the nurse did, was to take you off the I.V. That meant no more peeing every 30 minutes. Thank fuck. She even brought you a small, stomach-friendly breakfast and informed you that the doctor would come by to discharge you soon.

Less than an hour later, the pleasant doctor handed you the discharge form as well as a prescription to take to the hospital pharmacy. You hadn’t shown any unusual symptoms which meant that your brain was working as intended. Therefore, the doctor decided that you could leave the hospital early.

Quickly, you informed your best friend and your dad about the good news, and they both asked you if they should come and pick you up. You told them they didn’t need to; you could find your way home just fine. Your dad, in his usual dad-manner, replied with a thumbs-up emoji whilst your best friend sent you the side-eye one. You knew exactly what she meant with it. Girl, if you fall again, I’ll kick your arse.

You chuckled and exited the message feed when another one caught your eye. It was the one you had started with Joe yesterday. His last message taunted you. He had asked you to keep him updated. So, you did.

Hey Joe!

Hey Tumbleina!

Stop it!

I’m being discharged early!

That’s great news! When?

You hurriedly checked your form. It said that you needed to pick up your medication from the in-house pharmacy and that it would be ready for pick-up at 12:45pm, which was in an hour from now.

I’m still waiting for my medication to be ready for collection which won’t be until 12:45...so, I think around 1-ish?

Cool! 👍

Yeah, I’m glad. Can’t wait to crawl into my bed.

I bet. Hospital beds are the worst.

Tell me about it.

Anyway, I thought I’d let you know. Because you were so adamant about it.

Thank you, very considerate of you to keep me, your saviour, in the loop.

You laughed out loud at his reply and responded with a series of laughing emojis before putting your phone down on the bed.

Too hastily, you changed out of your hospital gown and into your clothes. Your dad had brought you an overnight bag with comfortable clothes when he had come to visit you yesterday. However, the quick movement was too much for your bruised body and you hissed in pain. Slow down, you scolded yourself and continued to get ready at a slower pace.

You packed your few belongings into your duffle bag, cautiously slung it over your shoulder, and quickly glanced back to make sure you hadn’t forgotten anything.

When you arrived in the lobby, the receptionist asked you to wait in the waiting area until your name was called. Nodding, you sauntered over to the nearest available seat and ungraciously plopped down onto it. You retrieved your phone from your joggers to kill some time. You read the news and played some word-based online games.

You were just about to solve a rather tricky one when your name was suddenly called. Letting out a sigh that you hadn’t really intend to let out, you got up and trudged over to the chemist’s counter. The old lady behind it handed you a small plastic bag with your medication. It was ibuprofen and some sort of gel that you were supposed to rub on your neck and back. How you were supposed to do that yourself was beyond you. You quietly thanked the old lady who gave you a dismissive nod in return.

Slowly, you turned around and walked away from the counter towards the hospital’s exit. You were just checking your next tube connections on your phone when you heard someone clear their throat. Looking up, you saw a man standing by the litter bin, tapping his cigarette into the bin’s built-in ashtray. Why was this man trying to get your attention?

You squinted at him and all he did was stare back at you, with big brown chocolate button eyes. You let out a loud gasp.

“Joe?”

“Hey there, Bambi. Good to see you up and about.”, he chuckled, as he took the last drag of his cigarette.

“What the hell are you doing here?”, you asked in complete bewilderment, entirely ignoring his nickname for you and taking quick steps towards him.

Putting out his cigarette, he let out another chuckle.

“Well, I thought I could take you home...you know, make sure you don’t stumble over your own feet and fall again.”

“What makes you think I don’t have a ride home?”, you inquired, your hand now on your hip and his smile instantly began to falter.

“Oh shit! I didn’t think of that! Do you?”

“Nah.”, you giggled and he visibly relaxed, but his cheeks already held a red, embarrassed tint. “My dad and bestie asked me if they could come pick me up, but I declined.”, you continued. “It’s only a couple stops on the tube.”

“A few stops too many, if you ask me.”, Joe concluded, back on his confidence-track. He took a few steps towards you and held out his arms to you. “Let me accompany you home.”

“Fiiiine.”, you groaned, rolling your eyes and eventually linking your arm with his. “You’re insufferable.”

---

Your 20-minute ride home was the most eventful tube journey you had ever had. Joe made sure you held on to every railing, and if there wasn’t one available, his arm. He fussed over you like an overprotective boyfriend, which made your cheeks flush a little. No, you gotta stop thinking like that. He’s just helping!, you reminded yourself, shaking your head to get rid of those intrusive thoughts.

Still arm in arm with Joe, you exited the tube station closest to your block of flats and led the way down the street towards it.

“This is me.”, you announced, suddenly shy as you began to slow down your pace. Joe smiled down at you and let go of your arm.

“Nice house.”, he looked up at it. It was anything but nice. It was one of those ugly buildings straight out of the seventies and most of its residents had lived there since the beginning.

“Ah...it’s nothing. Most of my neighbours are elderly people. I basically live in a retirement home.”, you chuckled lowly, and Joe’s grin grew wider.

“Could be worse.”, Joe determined. “You could have a funeral parlour on the ground level.”

You gave him a puzzled, questioning look.

“Not that I have a funeral parlour in the building I live in.”, Joe clarified, giggling softly. “I just think that’s worse than living with the elderly.”

“You’re very strange, Joe.”, you snorted, shaking your head again.

“I’ve been told that before.”, he smiled broadly and shoved his hands into his trouser pockets.

“Hmmm...”, you hummed, glancing quickly at him. His eyes were fixed on your face, and you quickly averted your gaze.

“Uhm...thank you.”, you started, blushing once more. “For helping me yesterday and bringing me home just now. I really don’t know how I could make it up to you.”

“Hmmm...”, he copied you. Wanker. Then his face lit up like a thousand suns. “You know what? You could make it up to me by going on a date with me.”

Snorting, you threw your head back in laughter and rolled your eyes at him. When you looked at him again you saw him looking at you with anticipation. His big puppy eyes on full display. Fuck.

“Aaaalright. I’ll go on a date with you.”, you relented. How could you not? He could ask anything of you with those fucking adorable eyes.

“Brilliant!”, he replied, grinning from ear to ear, pulling you into his arms. Stunned, you wrapped your arms around him as well. He smelled just like he had yesterday: so damn good. Who needs air when you could live off his smell?

When he, too soon for your liking, pulled back a little, he winked at you and said: “I’ll let you know when and where.”

Gently, he let go of you completely and you nodded in agreement, head still too wrapped up in his scent to give him a vocal response.

“Shall I help you upstairs or are you good?”

“Huh?...”, you questioned, not quite hearing what he had said but since his thumb was pointing at your door you assumed you knew what was asking.

“Oh...uhm. I’m good. Thanks though.”, you smiled and slowly stepped towards the entrance of the house.

“Perfect.”, Joe said with a nod and slowly took a few steps back. “I’ll text you.”

“Yeah, alright. Let me know, when you get home.”, you requested without thinking, whilst rummaging through your duffle bag. Then you saw it, his trench coat. Before he could respond to your demand, you gasped and shouted:

“Joe! Wait!”

“Huh?”, he questioned, swiftly turning around and walking back to where you were.

“Your coat!”, you clarified, pulling it out of the duffle bag. Luckily, for once, it wasn’t accompanied by its other contents which would have spilled out all over the floor any other day.

Joe looked at you, confusion evident on his face but then he saw you pull out the familiar fabric and he suddenly remembered.

“Oh right! I gave it to you.”, he chuckled, and you carefully placed the coat in his outstretched hands, “Thank you.”

“It’s nothing.”, you dismissed him with a polite smile, “you asked for it back and I gave it back.”

Your pathetic attempt at indifference didn’t go unnoticed and it made him grin from ear to ear. Then he skilfully threw the coat over his shoulder and took the three steps down the stairs backwards, eyes locked with yours

You put your key in the lock and opened the door, bashful eyes on his now slowly retreating figure.

“Joe…let me know when you’re home, yeah?”, you repeated your request, just loud enough for him to hear.

“Will do. Bye, Bambi.”, he returned, almost shouting as he waved at you.

“Bye Joe.”, you called back, louder than him, rolling your eyes at his repeated use of the new nickname he had given you. Giggling, because to be honest, you thought the name was very cute, you entered your house and gently closed the door behind you.

---

Taglist:

@ohmeg @daleyeahson @lma1986 @palomahasenteredthechat @mandyjo8719 @aysheashea @eddiebaemunson @littledemon-lilith @freakymunson @sidthedollface2 @i-wont-run-this-time @plk-18 @miserybeans @kylakins88 @deadspellz @thehillzhaveeyez @kayleeelena97 @foreverjosephquinn @punctualhowell @icallhimjoey @ghostinthebackofyourhead @siriuslysmoking @cancankiki @definitionwanderlust @eriancrow @1paire2vans @theonewiththecrackedmind @fromasgardandback @captainonaboat @josephquinnsfreckles @emilyslutface @alessxaa

crossed out = couldn't tag

[arsenicflame]

ok leaked 2x01 clip observation post

(watch the clip here)

God. Izzy looks completely wrecked in this- hes scruffy and his hairs not slicked back properly he just looks. tired.

EVERYONE LOOKS SO COOL THOUGH

i want to know WHY he stutters there- what was he going to say instead?

for me, the way fang asks izzy how hes doing is not just a sign that things have gotten so bad, but it implies prior emotional connection. fang had to be the one to breach this conversation because he Knows Izzy (perhaps the others were too nervous to start because the situation is Obviously tense, but fang knows him) idk thats what i get from it.

'dont help me, dont help me' izzy sweetheart :( they are your friends.

the way jim says 'unhealthy relationship with blackbeard' sounds like they were coached, like they were repeating something someone else said. i love two unemotional assholes trying their best. unhealthy relationship is such a frenchieism to me i can just imagine jim noting it down in their journal like. 'good wording. practice saying it a few more times. toxic??????'

i believe theyre called archie and i love them so much. lesbianism hours.

rhino horn i assume is a drug? hm.

'hes cut off at least two more of your toes, hasnt he?' HOLY SHIT

the way frenchie says that is like. it wasn't infection or an accident its purposeful. they KNOW something is happening. ed Took two more toes. at least, that they know of. how do they know??? are they listening? can they hear his screams? is he asking for medical help from them? rotating round them all so no one person knows just how bad it is? (but theyre talking. theyre talking to each other now. about him, theyre worried)

maybe his first really did heal fine and it was a later infection. maybe. maybe ed took the whole leg. on purpose. whats izzy been doing to 'make ed do this'- did ed even anything to justify it? was he protecting the crew? smuggling rations to lucius? at best he was disobeying orders, but given their reactions it obviously wasnt anything that endangered anyone- imo he would have been looking out for them (maybe that why he is instructing them to throw away loot. hes protested that one too many times)

the way he immediately starts crying at that too. its like. hes been thinking all these things for a while and didn't want to say it out loud, or was thinking it was all on him and that he deserved it- but then someone comments out loud its not a good situation and he just. thats his oh moment and he falls apart.

IZZY GETS A HUG

god a fang hug looks so good- even when hes obviously trying to respect izzy being uncomfortable it

the way he is desperately trying to hold back sobbing- like if he breaks apart now he knows its the end, he will never be able to put himself back together. he needs to remain strong remain put together, he will never survive otherwise. it doesnt even really feel like hes trying not to cry because its weakness, not appropriate of him anymore, its simply that he cant afford to.

also making unconscious noises when uncomfortable. me 🤝 izzy autistic bitches. (this is only to me)

JIM IS SO UNCOMFRTABLE ALSO (and archie?) god. i desperately want happy izzy & jim dynamics i think they would work SO good, neither of them want to touch an emotion with a ten foot pole wtf please get jim out of there and a knife in their hand.

god. god. theres so much here. the crew dynamics. izzy found family canon confirmed i love it so much. this is everything ive ever wanted izzys getting love! hes getting a good arc! hes making allies and friends and they care about him!!!! theyre worried about him!!!!!!

god. i was already so excited for season 2 but this is everything to me. i just know this is going to be so good. i have SO much faith

[invidiia]

flags headcanon // picture this:

albatross LOVES metal, or just any loud music in general. doc on the other hand, knows just how bad it is for one to have music blasting in their ears at the highest volume.

a common sight for the flags was watching albatross sit down, lost somewhere in his own head with headphones on, the music so loud you could faintly hear it if you were a couple feet away.

while pianoman was seated on top of a pool table conversing with lippmann, who sat in a chair next to him, chatting away..

while iceman sat in the corner, silently smoking and fixing the record player on the end table..

while chuuya propped his head up on his palms, reading a random magazine, every once in a while checking his phone, before silencing his notifications because he was getting spam-texted by you know who..

while everyone else was doing something else, albatross was seated on a sofa, leaning against the cushion, glasses bobbing up and down on his face while he blasted music into his ears at full volume.

doc is sitting across from him, legs crossed and reading some book about medical stuff. nothing that he doesn't already know. however, it was a little hard to focus on the book with the faint sound of drums and guitar coming from his coworker's headphones.

"albatross," doc moved forward, calling his name to get his attention. he wasn't yelling, but it obviously wasn't loud enough for the other to hear.

not being able to focus wasn't necessarily doc's issue, more of the fact he didn't like that albatross could damage his ears like this. he needed to be able to hear, didn't he?

doc tried again and again to get his coworker's attention by calling his name, but nothing worked. he looked around the room, everyone else was absorbed in their own things, paying no attention.

after a few moments, doc stood up from his spot on the sofa, stepping around the iv pole he kept next to him and walked behind albatross. without warning, he snatched the headphones off his head and held them in his hands, messing with dials until he found a way to turn them down.

albatross finally noticed when doc took the headphones off his head. "hey — doc, what the hell?! i was listening to that!"

doc only sighed, turning the volume of the music down to something more reasonable. "you're going to damage your hearing if you keep listening to music that loud," he spoke in response to albatross.

"it can't be that big of a deal," the other man huffed, taking his headphones back and putting them around his neck, but not turning them back up. doc was definitely right.

not a ship unless yall albatross x doc shippers want LMAO

[kotylynnemerrill]

Chapter 11, can y'all believe it?! I can't!

I wasn't sure if I wanted to post this chapter yet I have another one that I'm almost done that I really wanted to post first but eh it's already done I figured why not.

As always I hope you all enjoy and thank you for sticking with this story of mine. I'll have the next chapter up very soon.

And please don't be shy - send me requests. I'd really like to know what you guys want to read in this fic. What do you think I should put in - add - whatever.

Your Words I Hold Forever

January 6th, 1969 4:00pm

Fez felt a light brush against his fingertips and flexed his fingers experimentally. He let the digits caress the softness beneath them.

Cloth of some kind?

He reached out and placed his palm flat against the object. Whatever ‘it’ was, was oddly round and firm to the touch and definitely covered by a soft cloth of some kind.

Something gently grasped his hand…something smooth, slender, and very warm.

“Fez?” He recognized the dulcet voice speaking and for a moment wondered if he might be dreaming.

Fez’s eyes fluttered open and instantly squeezed shut against the assault of bright fluorescent lights. He suddenly felt like he was on a spin top.

“Fez. Fez, baby, open your eyes slowly,” the voice encouraged soothingly, and he heard the sound of something shuffling, followed by a scrapping sound.

He took a moment to let the spinning subside and, bracing for the bright lights he once again, let his eyes flutter open. He had to blink several times to get his vision to adjust, and when it did, a round, pale face appeared above him. First as splotches of color and shapes, then it became more concentrated, the features more decipherable.

Lexi.

She stood over him, eyes wide and bright as they gazed down at him. This visage of Lexi looked tired, like she hadn’t been sleeping, but she was still beautiful as ever.

She was wearing a simple white, cotton blouse with a traditional chelsea collar. It flowed loosely around her middle in graceful waves.

Her hair was hanging down in loose curls, and simply pinned at the sides, preventing the tresses from falling in her face. The lights above framed her in gold and her cheeks were glowing.

She looked like an angel.

But how was she here? She couldn’t be…

Fez frowned. Was he…

No. He wasn’t dead. He felt, not so much pain, but he was definitely uncomfortable, and that meant he was still among the living…he hoped.

He certainly wasn’t in Nam if Lexi was here.

Abruptly a vague memory of being brought in through a pair of large double doors swirled to the front of his mind. He could recall several faces huddled over him, solemn and distorted by the bright lights above them. He could visualize their thin lips moving, talking to each other, but no sound coming out.

Where was he?

Fez blinked several more times and turning away from Lexi, glanced around at his surroundings.

The room was small, and the walls too white. A medium-sized window was to his left where a round table and two metal chairs were situated underneath. A bedside table was situated next to him directly to his left, bare except for a notepad and pen.

His eyes moved to the right, and he could see a set of portable carts stocked with medical equipment and supplies placed against the wall along with an IV pole.

There were two grey doors, one on the same wall as the carts and IV pole, the bathroom judging by the little sign at the top, showing a stick figure sitting on a toilet.

The second door sat almost catty-corner to the first one. Fez was pretty sure it was the main entrance to this room he was in. He could hear people passing by just outside of it, as well as the faint sound of beeps and mechanical whines.

“Fez…” He turned his head and Lexi was staring, her lips pulled down into a frown.

“Baby, can you hear me? Do you know where you are?” Her features softened slightly. “You might be a little foggy. You had some pretty strong pain meds not that long ago.”

“Lexi…”

“Yeah, I’m here.” She squeezed his hand tightly and smiled wide, despite the tears filling her eyes, turning the orbs into pools of melted chocolate.

“Am I in a hospital?”

Lexi nodded in response. “Yes. You’re… we’re at Pettis VA hospital in Loma Linda, California. You…” Her hand rose to her lips as they began to quiver, and a tear rolled from the corner of her eye. “Umm…”

Fez gave the hand clutching his a reassuring squeeze. “Hey, don’t cry. Don’t cry – please. I’m okay – I think.” He gave another weak squeeze of her hand. A beat passed and suddenly his brows furrowed. “Actually, how bad is it?”

Lexi stuttered out a laugh, as she wiped at the wetness on her cheeks. She lifted his hand, holding it to her body.

“Well, you’re awake, so that’s a good start.”

“How long I been out?”

“A couple of hours.” Lexi replied, then seemed to second guess her answer. “Maybe less.”

“Shit…okay. So how bad?”

“Uhh…there’s a lot. You were hit four times, the worst of it to your chest and stomach. They were able to remove the bullets, and you’ll have some pretty gnarly scars…”

Fez flinched as he listened intently, categorizing each new piece of information into a list. A perforated lung, had to put in a chest tube but breathing well enough now the doctors okayed removing it, no permanent damage to any abdominal organs, air lifted to the 93rd evacuation hospital in Long Binh, IV catheter in left hand for pain meds and antibiotics.

He didn't really remember any of it, except for bits and pieces that would pop up in his head with a certain word, like a lightbulb going off.

Some things he remembered and wished he didn’t. The smell of sulfur choking him, Harry’s mangled face, the taste of dirt in his mouth, and the noise…there had been a lot of noise.

The wet rattling sound as he tried to breathe…Fez took a shuddering breath.

“Hey…are you okay?”

He nodded his head, but Lexi didn’t look convinced. “You sure?”

Fez nodded and her chest deflated as she exhaled.

“Well…” Lexi patted the hand she was holding affectionately. “There’s not much else to tell. They’re going to keep you here for a few more days for observation but you’ll get to go home soon. You’re gonna need lots of rest, of course, and the doctors said you’ll possibly need some physical therapy for your shoulder, but – Fez? Baby, what is it?”

Fez’s wide gaze fixed on where she was pressing his hand. He had felt movement. It was only a light thump, like when a cat bats you with its paw, but he had felt it.

“Was that…?”

Up until now, he had the letters and a few photos…the only evidence that his child was real and not just a fantasy he had conjured up in his mind.

Now his baby was right here…

He moved his hand to where his palm was flat against the considerable swell of Lexi’s belly, and after a few seconds, he felt it again, but this time there was the tiniest amount of pressure being applied back.

He had to be dreaming this…or so drugged up he was hallucinating. His brain couldn’t fully comprehend what was happening.

His baby was pressing against his hand, only layers of skin and tissue between them.

“I’m not dreaming this – am I?”

A sudden fear slithered up his insides, awakening a deep irrational part of him, and telling him that this wasn’t real – it couldn’t be.

Nice try. So close…

But Lexi smiled sweetly, “No, you’re not dreaming.”

Fez moved his hand and, bracing himself on his elbows, he tried to raise his torso so he was closer. He needed to be closer.

A pain blossomed in his abdomen almost instantly, like he had you he’s a live wire , and he sucked in through his teeth, hissing loudly.

“Hey, try not to move too much.” Lexi gently patted his forearm, and with a grunt, he lowered himself back down. “Just try and relax. I don’t know if they can give you anything just yet, but maybe – I’ll ask –” Lexi started to rise from her chair and Fez’s hand shot out, grabbing just below her elbow.

“Please! Please don’t go!”

Lexi slowly sat back down, eyes wide. “Fez…”

“I’m fine…just please don’t leave.”

“Shh shh,” Lexi reached out, cupping his face. Her thumb swiped under his eye, and he realized he was crying. “I’m here… I’m not going anywhere.” She forced him to look at her. “We’re not going anywhere.”

“Sorry. I’m good. I just – the letters and the pictures…After a while, I thought maybe I had made it all up.”

Fez closed his eyes and inhaled deeply through his nose, slowly letting the air expire out the same way. He repeated the action until he felt his shoulders and chest relax.

“Believe me, he’s very real…”

Lexi released his face and placed her hands on either side of her round belly, giving the sides a gentle pat for good measure.

The corner of Fez’s mouth twitched in a smile. “He?”

Lexi tilted her head, lips pursed. “Yeah. I guess so…it feels right. Kitty and mom are still pretty adamant I’m having a boy.”

“I guess we’ll see soon enough.” Fez let his head sink into the pillow and sighed. “How you feelin’ anyway?”

“I’m good – tired, but I’m good.”

“Good. How did you get here anyway? You didn’t come here by yourself, did you?”

Lexi shook her head. “Mom brought me.”

“Really?” Fez’s eyebrows rose slightly at this revelation.

“Kinda left her with no choice. Besides, she didn’t really want me driving by myself.”

“Where is she?” Fez’s head swiveled, looking around the room, as if he had somehow missed her earlier.

“She’s been hiding out in the family waiting room.” Lexi chuckled, amused by this.

Fez lowered his eyes, frowning. “She doesn’t have to do that…”

But she wanted to, he thought, and his chest tightened again.

Fez really couldn’t blame her. He went over everything in his mind and, if the tables were turned, if he were in Suze’s position…

He must have shook his head – an expression on his face.

“Hey…” Lexi leaned in close, placing her forearms on the edge of the bed. “Stop it.”

“Stop what?” He focused on the catheter in his hand, his dirty fingernails, the jagged snag in the hospital blanket… anywhere but her.

“She’s not avoiding you…she –”

“Lexi, she doesn’t have to play nice. I don’t expect –”

“It’s not like that, not at all. She’s just giving us some time…”

“Time? For what?”

“To be together – just the two of us.”

“Well, that’s nice of her,” Fez replied crassly. “Sorry.” He sighed. “I don’t mean to be a bummer…”

“Baby, I get it. I really do, but it wasn’t you she was mad at. Not entirely. I’m the one who didn’t tell her about us…admittedly for selfish reasons, and I was the one lying to her. Not you.” Lexi reached out and put her hand over his. “Besides, my mother is the last person you should be worried about right now.”

“Still don’t sit right with me. I don’t want no friction between you and your mom, you feel me?”

“There’s not- I promise. So, if you’re done with your little pity party, do you think you could scooch over a smidge without hurting yourself?” Lexi asked, a small smirk forming on her lips.

Fez smiled and, with some effort, he moved over as far as he could.

“Can you hop up here?”

Lexi grinned. “I think I can manage.”

After some trial and error, and some more delicate maneuvering on Fez’s part, Lexi was able to situate herself onto the hospital bed without jostling him too much.

“You good laying like that?” Fez took note of how Lexi was halfway on her side and slightly scrunched in on herself, forming a bizarre ‘c’. She looked anything but comfortable, but it didn’t seem to bother her.

“Yeah…I’m good.”

She rested her head on the edge of his pillow and placed a hand on his cheek, her thumb brushing over a couple of small cuts that were there. Her eyes traced over the thin raised slits a second before moving over the rest of his face, slow and deliberate.

“You have new freckles…”

“How can you tell that?”

“I just can.” With a smile, her eyes traveled up. “Your hair has grown out a bit too…I could cut it for you when we get home…if you want…”

“What? You don’t like it?”

“It’s…different. I definitely don’t hate it.”

Her fingers moved to pluck a dark auburn strand off his forehead, smoothing it back with the rest of his hair.

Fez’s eyes fluttered shut at the sensation and he took a deep, shuttering breath. The familiar scent of something sweet and slightly floral, something uniquely her, flooded his senses.

He had dreamed of this, being back in Cali with Lexi. He had dreamed of being under covers, next to warm soft skin and surrounded by this smell.

It wasn't a dream anymore.

Lexi was here, snuggled up beside him, her scent and warmth surrounding him, their child was safely tucked in between them.

He swallowed past the tightness in his throat, and his voice came out thick when he spoke.

“Lexi…”

“Hmm?” Her hand moved down to cup his jaw, and her warm eyes locked with his.

“Just let me snuggle with you two for a bit…” Fez whispered.

She held his gaze for a moment before slowly nodding.

“Okay.” She leaned in and brought her lips down to kiss the strong bridge of his nose. She then placed a kiss on his cheek before softly pressing her lips to his. Her lips were soft and warm as they lingered against his, and it was the greatest thing he had felt in a long time.

******

Fez jerked, and his eyes flew open at the sudden sensation of movement beside him. He blinked several times to clear the sleep from his eyes and glanced down to find Lexi, her cheek resting against his chest. She had one leg slightly hooked over his and was fast asleep.

It had only taken Lexi a few minutes to fall asleep. Fez, on the other hand, couldn’t seem to stay asleep. Between the nurses checking in on him and the constant bustle of the hospital, it had proven difficult to say the least.

Then there was the pulsating pain radiating up through his chest and shoulder from laying tilted on his side.

But he didn’t dare move.

He still wasn’t entirely sure he wasn’t about to wake up and find himself in some fox hole, everything disappearing in a puff of grenade smoke and chaos.

The very thought left him in a cold sweat.

He did a double take, just to ease his mind, and Lexi adjusted her hand on his stomach, moving it down to the top of his hip. She inhaled deeply, and her breath came out in a soft snore.

He felt the swell of his child pressed against his abdomen and released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and his body relaxed.

More movement and the sound of paper rustling caught his attention.

He slowly turned his head to see a slender brunette woman sitting in the chair Lexi had been occupying earlier, completely oblivious as she thumbed through a magazine.

He cleared his throat, as quietly as he could, so he didn’t startle the woman, but she jumped anyway.

“Jesus Christ!” She hissed and placed a hand on her chest.

“Sorry – Mrs. Howard?”

It had to be Suze Howard. Taking her in as she uncrossed her leg and put the magazine down on the floor next to her, he was certain of it.

The similarities between her and Lexi were uncanny, the only difference between them being Suze’s blue eyes.

“Sorry…I tried not to scare you.”

“No, it’s-” She scrunched her nose and waved her hand dismissively. “It’s fine. Sorry, I didn’t mean to…I came to check on Lexi – and you – on both of you, but you were fast asleep. I couldn’t stand that waiting room any longer, so I just stayed. I hope that’s okay.”

“You good.” Fez cleared his throat again “Is it just you here or…?”

“Yeah, just me and Lexi. Marie and Ash were at the store when the hospital called, so they weren’t able to leave right away, but they will be here soon, and I’m pretty sure she’s bringing you two something to eat besides ‘hospital garbage’.” Her eyes suddenly widened, like she just realized she forgot something. “Oh! I umm…I went and got Lexi some things. Just a change of clothes and some toiletries.” She pointed towards the table by the window, where Fez could see a large brown grocery sack. “I figured it’d be hell trying to get her to leave so – shit! Do you need anything? I’m sorry, I didn’t even think – I can go back to the store if you need -”

“Nah. For real, Mrs. Howard…I appreciate it, but you ain’t gotta do all that. I’ll be alright. I’m sure Kitty will bring some things.”

“Shit, call me Suze…considering my daughter is having your kid, I think we’re past formalities, don’t you?”

Fez simply nodded, momentarily caught off guard, hearing her speak those words out loud. Hearing her mention Kitty and Ash…

His whole family in one place…they would all be together soon.

Fez closed his eyes for a second. “I can’t wait to see them,” he sighed out. “She and Ash okay?”

“Yeah, they’re good. They’re obviously glad you’re okay. Count yourself extremely lucky…not many…well…I don’t need to sit here and preach, you already know.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Suze pursed her lips, not saying anything more. A quiet gesture of sympathy that didn’t go unappreciated by Fez.

Right before they had fallen asleep, he had asked Lexi if there was any word about the other guys from his Platoon. She went quiet for a long time it seemed before saying she hadn’t, and when she offered to call the DPAA and the SCO to see if she could find anything out, he declined.

A simple ‘Okay,’ and the subject had been dropped, to his relief.

He wasn’t sure he could have handled it if she had pushed the subject.

“How long we been asleep?”

“An hour, an hour and a half maybe. You needed it – both of you.”

His eyes landed on Lexi again, still slumbering peacefully, and carefully pulled the thin hospital blanket back up over her shoulder from where it had gotten bunched up. “She good sleeping like this?”

“If she wasn’t comfortable, she wouldn’t be sleeping. Trust me.”

Fez fought the urge to grin, as he recalled the last few letters he had received from Lexi. She had been having quite some trouble sleeping and had mentioned, more than once, how uncomfortable she was.

“She been drinking that chamomile tea? One of the guys I was with said it was good for that – helping women with insomnia in the late stages of pregnancy…or something like that. He said it helped his wife."

“Yeah…almost every night.” Suze’s voice raised slightly in surprise, a brief upward inflection. “I told her lavender tea also helps but she didn’t like that one as much.”

“Hmm…” Fez glanced at Suze through his lashes almost shyly, as dead air filled the space between them. He had never been good at one-on-one small talk – hated it to an extent, and he began to feel the suffocating need to fill the silence.

“She said you brought her here?”

“I did,” Suze confirmed.

“Thank you. I know it’s not a short trip.”

“Yeah, well…she would have found her way here, regardless if I brought her or not…was practically out the door before Marie could finish speaking. What could I do?” Suze shrugged her shoulder. “She’s pretty attached to you,” Suze added, a playful note to her words.

“I’m pretty attached to her too. Probably more than she is to me, to be honest.” Fez smiled.

He looked up again after a moment and caught Suze’s eyes. She quickly looked away and cleared her throat.

He tried not to notice the strange look that crossed her face briefly. The same look Lexi got when she was about to say or ask something she probably shouldn’t, or when she thought she was being too intrusive.

Fez knew she had questions, or, at the very least, she had some things to say.

He wished she would say something. As a mother, as Lexi’s mother, she had the right to grill him – yell, if that’s what she wanted to do. But she remained quiet, and that itch to fill the silence resurfaced.

“I’m sorry we just now meetin’…didn’t mean no disrespect.”

“That’s all right…”

“She’s a good girl, you know? We didn’t mean to get in this mess, for real. I don’t think either of us knew what was happening. We just got caught up in our feelings…”

Caught up? He hated putting it like that, but how else could he explain it? He couldn’t help how he felt any more than he could help needing air to live.

He wanted to comfort her in some way, let her know she didn’t need to worry. He wasn’t going to just up and leave or skirt his responsibilities.

“I wanted to do things properly, you know? We both wanted… I mean we had talked about this, having this in the future…”

“Pillow talk, I assume?” She had that playful tone again, and heat traveled up Fez’s neck.

“Something like that.” His hand reflexively twitched with the n