#Just hold him and don't let him go

[ratcatcher0325]

A Fraction of Justice (Chapter #23)

Alright, here we go with another angsty mess nightmare hospital chapter. 

So grateful to @not-a-space-alien, @kitn-underfoot, and @thegodmother007 for beta reading and giving me some awesome feedback!  

Chapter #23. Will our hero make it out of surgery and finally be done with this mess?

Previous: Chapter #22

Next: Chapter #24

Word Count: 8,904 Read Time: Approx. 60 mins

CW: adult language, extreme angst, dehumanization, infantilization, fearplay, injury, blood, surgery

Tag list: @gatlily @grbene @patrocolus3 @beautifulunknowntrash @titan-god-420 @andraimeide @themarlo @cup-o-chai @lucentbliss @raccoontoaster @tolsizedlove @not-a-space-alien , @thegodmother007, @honey-olive, @bittykimmy13 ,@aceouttatime, @imvenusasaboy, @liminaldaze, @windshield-patent, @joxter-coded, @rosella35, @narrans, @rubeau-art, @littlescaryinternetguy, @jae-from-discord, @kitn-underfoot, @secretly-small, @writing-forever, @iinogongju, @tales-of-aestus

Btw, DM me if you wanna be added to the tag list!

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A Fraction of Justice

Chapter #21: Malpractices

[Natalie’s POV]

My leg bounced feverishly up and down as I sat up, board straight, teetering on the edge of the hard, plastic chair. It’d been 47…. No, make that 48 minutes since he’d been taken away. I couldn’t help but worry. Who could blame me? It was the first time since I’d found him that we’d been apart and I didn’t know he was somewhere safe and sound. 

I pictured him making fun of me for stressing so much, like some overly protective mother hen. He had no problem standing up for himself, I knew that. But then, the image of his little face when he was plucked out of my hands came to mind: his clear, blue irises wide and glistening with fear. He was strong, devilishly smart and extraordinarily brave, but he was still so very, very small, and, as much as I knew he’d resent the accusation, he was, also, fragile. I pictured just how tiny his hand was, fingers spread as he squeezed the tip of my pinky, barely able to grip onto the whole of it. Alexander could hiss and spit all he wanted, but the tech that had taken him away could still pin him down with just one finger. 

But it was fine, right? They can’t run and operate a business with neglect and not be called out for it, right?? Was he all worked up for nothing? Was I? I mean, I couldn’t blame the little man…. Being handed off to strangers who were twenty times bigger, a hundred times stronger and not likely to explain just what they were going to do to him, would terrify anyone. They were just running tests though, right? I imagined they’d need to take his vitals and possibly x-ray his knee to see how damaged it was.

But it wasn’t that, alone, that had made him tremble from head to toe and cling to the fabric of my shirt…. He seemed convinced that they might hurt him, mess up his treatment, kill him. He seemed keenly aware that it’d happened before, which utterly broke my heart. 

For the past half hour, I’d furiously scrolled through every review site I could find, double and triple checking for any sign that something could be amiss. I found nothing. Just run-of-the-mill posts about treating a cat’s ear infection or resetting a parrot’s broken wing. Still, I couldn’t seem to drop this chilling sense of dread. It didn’t escape my notice that there was practically nothing in-depth about treating little people like Alexander in any of the reviews, just mostly animals. I chewed on the beds of my nails absentmindedly as I fought to stay calm. 

 My knee continued to bounce, the rubber heel of my shoe keeping time on the discolored linoleum tile. Why did I have this sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach? It wasn’t just because the environment around me was cheap and dilapidated…. Was it because the doctor had been dismissive of him in his initial exams? The thing was, he was just right there, beyond that metal door. I could rush in there and pluck him up before they could call security. Maybe? I didn’t know. I had no idea what kind of labyrinth of hallways and doors and operating rooms laid beyond the metal threshold before me. 

The thought of him being afraid or in pain in any way, was unbearable to me. What if he needed me and I wasn’t there? What if he was trembling head to toe like he had just a little less than an hour ago, whimpering in my cupped hand? What if he was scared and all alone, right now, and all I was doing was just sitting here… waiting…. Had I let him down? Had I put him in danger by trying to get him help? 

Or was I just having some sort of savior complex because I felt this intense need to control the world around Alexander?

I knew I had the best of intentions, but still…. I felt this need to know exactly where and how he was at all times. I shuddered remembering when I’d plopped him down in a box and expected him to stay there all afternoon, or when I’d trapped him inside my bedside table drawer, all alone, because he’d hurt my feelings. Was this another instance of me being overly controlling? Was I underestimating him, even now? To me, he was such a breakable little thing, easily bruised by this world that was much too big for him. 

The way he’d clung to my fingers, the fabric of my shirt…. I’d never seen him so vulnerable and afraid before. I’d never seen him look so small before. I jumped to my feet, my heart in my throat. He was just beyond that door. I took a few steps forward, watching with fixated curiosity as the wavy and warped reflection of my figure mocked me in the metal surface like some kind of twisted fun house mirror.  What if I just checked on him? For a second? They wouldn’t kick us out for that would they? The tips of my fingers journeyed through the ever-shrinking gap between my body and the boundary separating him and me. In the next beat of my heart and bat of my eyelashes, the whorls of my fingertips pressed into cool metal. Just for a second. I just want to see his little eyes and know he’s okay. 

Before I could apply any pressure, the door pushed back. I had no time to react before the doctor and a tech, the same girl in the purple scrubs that had carried him off, burst through the threshold. All three of us jumped, startled by what we unexpectedly found right in front of us. 

The doctor had been the one to shove the door open, and now here we stood toe to toe. Had I noticed before how much taller he was than me? He was the first to wrestle his words into speech after the shock, “E-excuse me, Ms. Marquez, what do you think you’re doing?” We stood uncomfortably close, neither giving ground.

“Where is he?” My voice wavered in such a way that exposed how nervous I really was. I clenched my jaw, trying to pull it together.  

“There’s nothing to worry about ma’am…. Please, have a seat…” The words, meant to be reassuring, came from a voice I hadn’t heard very much before: crisp, coaxing, female. On my left, the vet tech was halfway through the door which she propped open with an elbow. I searched her bare hands, feverishly, for a shock of blonde bangs and blue eyes. They were empty. I panicked. 

 “Wait… w-where is he? Why’s he still back there? Is he okay? Is he all alone? Is he scared? I need to know he’s okay—“ 

 “Of course! Of course, you’re concerned. Don’t worry, he’s perfectly safe and comfortable. If you’ll just take a seat, Doctor Greene will be more than happy to answer any questions you might have….” Her smile was blindingly bright, her eyes shimmering and earnest. The doctor nodded along with her as she spoke, raising his brows expectantly in my direction, when she was finished. I froze. Was I being a complete idiot right now? Was Alexander perfectly okay and I was looking insane for wringing my hands over him? But then why wasn’t he back in my arms safe and sound? What did they need to tell me? I just wanted to see him. Before I could process, those disappointingly empty hands with their chipped, dark polish, were lightly resting on my shoulders, guiding me away from the door and back where I began, seating me in that hard plastic chair. 

 I stammered, “W-what’s wrong with him? Why won’t you bring him out here? All he needed was medicine for the infection, right?” As I hurled my volley of questions, the doctor, who I just now noticed had a file tucked under his arm and no longer sported his white coat, sat down and wheeled over to the examination counter, placing the file flat on its surface and resting his elbows so that his poised hands came to rest below his chin. As he did this, the tech settled in the back corner of the room, leaning against a cabinet in the corner halfway in front of the door that lead to Alexander. My pulse pounded away in my skull, that tan folder with its unknown contents burned a hole in my periphery as I stared into the veterinarian’s bespectacled eyes. 

 He cleared his throat as I gripped the rough underside edge of my seat, “First off, I want to apologize for the lengthier than usual wait time on our initial examinations. It’s nothing at all to worry about. I promise, your companion is in very attentive and focused hands, here. Isn’t that right, Nina?” The tech nodded in agreement, smiling again. Why did his tone shift ever so slightly when he included her in the narrative? “Now, to the matter at hand. Unfortunately, the damage is, well, worse than we thought…” my stomach dropped at those words. As he continued, he reached for the file between us, “If we take a look at these… Nina, if you will?” 

 He flipped the file open to reveal a paper splotched with deep, inky blacks and ghostly, silvery whites. I couldn’t tell what I was looking at. Nina stepped forward at his command, clutching the paper, she turned from me and flipped on the light box mounted on the wall to my left. 

She spoke as she worked, “Your little friend is awfully cute. I can tell he’s a little spitfire, though, too! But, hey, don’t worry, he just needed some gentle coaxing and he was the perfect little patient!” Why did my hackles raise at that? I had a hard time believing her. It wasn’t easy to get Alexander to do anything he didn’t want to. Was he really just scared enough to be docile for once in his life? That didn’t seem like the fiery little man I knew at all. 

 Before I could follow up with more questions, the room was cast into darkness, as she flipped off the lights and clipped up the paper on the illuminated display. Suddenly, the smoky shapes came in to clear focus in the backlight. It was an X-ray. It was his x-ray. I was looking at Alexander’s skeleton. My blood pumped faster in my veins, as my brow furrowed and I felt a tightness in the back of my throat. I couldn’t help but clamor to my feet to get a closer look. Because he was so small, he fit head to toe inside the image, the only part of him that was cut off was his left shoulder and leg on the right side of the display. That was him, his tiny little skeleton, blown up larger than life on a pitch black background. This image of him was at least four of five times larger than the real thing. Even then, how fragile those little bones looked! None of them were thicker than two fingers pressed together. My eyes went immediately to his right knee joint. I was no medical professional, but I didn’t need to be to see the sharp, black line that cut across his bone just above the knee. A complete break, not just a fracture. The blurry white mess that was his actual knee seemed to show how damaged it was. Poor little Alexander had been hobbling around on a broken leg? 

 With a grunt, the doctor rose from his seat and shuffled over to the display, “As you can see, the joint is severely damaged and there appears to be a significant break on the very base of the femur. Have you been allowing him to exercise? Put any unnecessary strain on it?” 

 “N-no. Not that I know of. I’ve been trying really hard to keep him still and off his feet as much as possible…” But it was anyone’s guess what he’d endured before I found him. He wouldn’t tell me anything. 

 “It appears the damage has been exacerbated by too much weight on the wound… wear and tear from strenuous over-use…” for some reason, he darted a glance at the black-haired tech, before clearing his throat, “In any case…. Nina, turn on the light, if you want it to heal right, he’ll need surgery to reset the bone and to flush out the infection, which has spread to a critical extent…” the room was flooded with blinding fluorescent light, once more, making me wince as my eyes fought to adjust and I struggled to understand him. 

 My world stopped as what he was saying finally hit me like a ton of bricks. I managed to stutter out just one word, “S-surgery??” I parroted it back like an idiot. The thought of his tiny little body being operated on by their comparatively massive hands sent shivers down my spine. 

 “Yes.” His response was simple and blunt, I stood, rooted to the spot, in shock, “Please sit.” As he beckoned for me to be seated he fetched the X-ray from its no longer illuminated display box and sat down, pulling a sharpie pen from the breast pocket of his scrubs, “So, we’d make an incision here, just above the break—“ he began marking the ghostly image of Alexander’s leg with the pitch black ink. I interrupted.

 “W-wait, wait, wait. Surgery? Are you sure there’s no alternatives? He can’t just, like, I don’t know, have a stint or something?” 

 The doctor’s exhale sounded almost amused as he removed his glasses to polish them on the bottom hem of his scrubs. “My understanding is you have no insurance. Is that correct?” 

 “…. Well, y-yes….”

 “I want to be completely honest with you. The fact of the matter is, this particular procedure will be costly without insurance. And, not only that, performing these kinds of operations on such small animals carries with it a significant risk—“

 “—He’s not an animal…He’s a person, just like you or me… he’s just littler, that’s all….”

 “O-of course! Of course he is! He seems very smart, too!” Nina was smiling brilliantly again. I clenched my teeth. I was beginning to dislike her.

 “It is my professional opinion that an operation will be necessary to save Alexander’s life. Now, I understand you may be hesitant, due to the upfront cost–”

 I snapped back, a newfound edge in my voice, “I don’t give a fuck what it costs, I just want him to be okay. Is that a clear enough answer for you? And, anyway, he should have some say in this. It’s his body, after all. Have you told him yet? Bring him here, and I’ll make a decision with him.”

 Another exchange of charged glances, and then a blunt response from the doctor, “Unfortunately we can’t do that.” 

 My heart was pounding faster and the room suddenly felt hot, I scowled and spoke through clenched teeth, on the razor’s edge of holding it together, “What do you mean you can’t??? You most certainly can. I have a right to see him. If he’s fine, like you say, then there’s no reason why you can’t let me talk with him, right now.” 

 The doctor leaned away from me, rolling his chair a bit further back, almost as if in a protective stance between myself and the door that continued to bar my way, “To clarify, what I mean is that would be a very bad idea. You see, in our experience, reintroducing the patient to…. The human they’re most familiar with after they’ve been properly acclimated and relaxed, will only serve to significantly agitate and generate an undue amount of stress for the patient right before major surgery. It is best to keep them calm and in one location prior to operating. You wouldn’t want to frighten him, would you?” 

 “Well, no, of course not, but—“ 

 “—and, as for his consent to the operation, we, of course, agree with you wholeheartedly, that your companion should have a voice, however, we, unfortunately, live in a world where only your signature is binding.” By the time he finished his speech, he’d rolled back to the edge of the counter opposite me. 

 I swallowed, my nervous system awash with adrenaline, my mind abuzz with fear and frustration. I just wanted to see him, to know he was okay, to hold him and never let him go again, “You say he’s just waiting back there? He’s not in pain? He hasn’t asked for me?” 

 The vet tech replied, her intended reassurance somehow unsettling to me, “Believe me, we made sure he was as relaxed as possible before we came in here to talk to you. He’s in no pain, whatsoever.” 

 “A-and there’s no alternative to keep him from having to go under?” 

 “Unfortunately, no.” It was her boss’s turn to reply. All I could think about was the look on Alexander’s face when he begged me not to let them put him to sleep. My chest tightened, the doctor carried on, “The infection is getting worse by the minute. It’s highly possible, if not probable, that if left untreated, it will develop into sepsis, which can lead to organ failure. In addition, he likely won’t walk again if the leg doesn’t have the chance to heal properly. He’s stable at the moment, but he needs to be treated now to prevent further complications…” I blinked hard, trying to settle the fire alarm fire blazing in the back of my skull. I gaped, like a fish, my eyes darting from my own hands, clasped tightly together, and back up to the doctor. 

 “I-I just want him to come out of this okay…” As I stammered, the tech fished for and offered me a document, flipping it open to a signature line, while the doctor offered me a hefty ballpoint pen from his front pocket. 

 “Then all you have to do is sign and date right here and we’ll get your little guy all patched up!” A painted nail tapped along the dotted line. I stared hard at the black blocks of text on white printer paper, but couldn’t make sense of any of them.

 It didn’t seem like I had any choice. He could die if something wasn’t done, and fast. My heart was thundering in my chest. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t do everything I could to help him. He was a fighter, he’d fight through this too. The least I could do was give him a chance. Then, when it was all done, I’d do everything I could to help him get back to normal as soon as I could hold him in my arms again. The sound of an impatient cough broke me from my train of thought. 

 “So? How would you like to proceed?” 

 I bit my lip, my head on fire. I reached for the pen, unable to think about anything other than those two frightened little eyes, “You promise me you’ll take good care of him? That you’ll be gentle? He-he means a lot to me. I don’t— I don’t know what I’d do if anything….” I choked on the words as my eyes welled. I cleared my throat to hold it down. “I’m not going anywhere until I’m holding him again and I know he’s safe and sound.” 

 “You’ve got nothing to worry about. Like we said, we think he’s just precious. It’s always such an honor to take care of other people’s companions. He’ll be back to normal in no time.” That blinding smile. Paper pushed forward. The pen, slippery between my clammy fingers. I swallowed, hands trembling, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up. 

***************

I was floating, weightless, not quite alive, not quite dead. I felt nothing, I had no sense of my body, where I was in space, or time, for that matter. I was asleep, but dreaming in vivid color of nothing put velvety blackness stretching on for eternity. Who and what was I? I didn’t have the faintest idea. 

Then, as if honing in on some distant frequency, like sudden static from an alien satellite transmission, I heard a babbling of noises, coupled with a repetitive sound, like a beeping, that cycled at seemingly regular intervals.  

They were incomprehensible at first, these sounds, just irritants, loud and untranslatable. But slowly, slowly, this floating, weightless, thing that was and wasn’t me, whoever that was, began to stitch the sounds together into… words. 

Floating above my consciousness like some ethereal notes in some unknown symphony, I found descriptors for these sounds, or, I think they were called, voices? One sounded female, the other male. I couldn’t, at that moment, remember what those descriptors implied, but I, somehow, knew they were apt. As I floated along in darkness, those words began to form snatches of sentences. 

 The male was first, “Wait, wait, you actually said that?” 

Then the female, “Fuck yeah, I did. I was like, ‘Lady, your little dude literally could not be more relaxed’ and she was just all, ‘Oh, o-okay’. Like, I won’t lie, for a minute there I thought we were gonna have to call security, but she totally ate it up after a while…” 

“No shit?” 

“That’s the thing, Greene pegged her for one of those overly-concerned types. So, it wasn’t hard to build up the drama of it all. These little guys are, like, cash cows if we put them under the knife…”

“Really? Why? Cuz they’re basically the same as people?”

“Yeah. Dude, look I know you’re new and everything but did you not pay attention at all in school? You have to take a whole extra semester of classes just to be qualified to operate on ‘em. And, yeah, he’s still sorta in hot water from the shit that went down a few months ago, but, like, it’s not like Miss Worry Wart and her pissed off little chihuahua here, will ever know about it. I think Greene’s smart to go after the money. Anyway, he showed her how bad the break was and pushed her to go for it. Don’t tell Greene this, but I think the full break in his femur might be our fault. We might’ve been a little too rough– Don’t say a fucking word, Jason, you toyed with him just as much as I did…” 

More sounds accompanied my non-existence as I heard things I think I remember calling footsteps and the scraping of chair legs on a linoleum floor, a new gruff voice, male. Barking, commanding. All the while that same beeping sound, keeping rhythm like a… metronome? Was that the proper term? 

I heard words like scalpel, incision, stable, antibiotic. I had a sense I was once familiar with them. 

However, as the unknown length of time pressed on, my endless floating began to change. Numbness no longer permeated all around. I slowly began to sense that I was…. Lying down? That I was…. Cold? Very, very cold. Or was I hot? That rhythmic sound changed its beat, getting faster. I heard, “vitals shifting” from… one of those voices? Or all three? I knew, now, I had a body, even if I couldn’t feel it. Well, not all of it. 

As though waking from a dream, second by second, feeling returned. Like a kettle slowly rising to a feverish, shrieking boil, I too, began to feel a tingling, which turned into a hazy ache, that cascaded into a burning, a searing, an excruciating wildfire of pain exploding from my leg. The background rhythm was beeping like crazy now, inconsistent and frightening. The part of me I remembered as a chest was heaving up and down. 

Above all that, came loud, thundering, angry voices, like gods threatening to rent the sky in two with their rage. 

The gruff, male voice was accusatory, “How much, Nina? How much did you administer?” 

A female voice, high, defensive, “W-well, I didn’t wanna over do it! Look at him, he’s tiny!”

A third, panicked, “His heart rate is spiking, he’s destabilizing… h-he’s coming to!” 

“Nina, you have to tell me what you gave him or I’ll end up killing the little bastard. How much?” 

“Shit! I gave him 0.2 milliliters, okay??” 

The panicked male rejoined, “I told her that wasn’t enough, sir! I said—“ 

“Oh shut up, why don’t you? I can’t trust  either of you. It’s a simple fucking task… and you two still fuck it up—“ 

Like being suddenly and forcefully pulled from the quiet, rocking depths of the ocean to flounder helplessly on the deck of a boat, gasping for air and waiting for death, all medicinal haze was ripped away and I was fully aware, fully awake and fully alive to the absolute horror that was my situation. 

The sounds of my own screaming seemed separate from me, as I sat up, flailing, bloodshot eyes wide and twitching. I heard the voices of the creatures so much bigger than me up above. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, restrain him before he fucks this up!” 

 In one panicked, fear filled heart beat, I took it all in: blinding, painful overhead light, blue, monstrous tendrils, encased in latex, like some kraken with twenty powerful appendages instead of just eight, surrounded me. The human fingers were all so huge and overwhelming. There was something shoved down my throat, slick, clear, it snaked off to an unknown destination, on my chest, something adhesive, thick, stiff, with wires protruding from it, an electrode for an electrocardiograph, but seemingly for a much larger life-form than myself. Without hesitation, I pulled on the tube, but was barely able to wrap a fist around it before.. 

“Oh no you don’t, stay still!” Those disembodied fingers wrested it away from me and pinned me back down against the metal surface below. I didn’t want them to touch me, I had to get free. Snarling and screaming, I writhed and kicked, but that quickly came to an end when my entire body was suddenly wracked with a sharp, biting, fresh sensation: the most excruciating pain I’d ever felt in my life. 

“Shit.”

Through the tears welling in my eyes, I hazarded a glance down at my leg. What I saw there made me nearly pass out. 

 Blood was spewing, thick, red, hot, horrendous. My knee was all red, open flesh, slick and horrific. The source of this brand new pain? Still pinched between his fingers, the blade of the scalpel, massive, razor sharp, was buried in the flesh of my knee. I was screaming and wailing, trembling from head to foot. 

 Meanwhile, the man wielding the instrument of death above my head, simply scowled as though he’d found a bruise on his apple or a fly in his drink. He grimaced at his surgical tool in my leg like it was some mildly frustrating inconvenience that was interrupting his work. Planting a finger on my ankle and a thumb on my thigh, he pinched the handle of the blade and ripped it from my leg. My ears rang as my vision faded momentarily. 

 He replaced the bite of the scalpel with pressure from a thumb pressing a strip of gauze to staunch the bleeding, over his shoulder, he regarded his inferior, “Well, at least this one isn’t dead because of your little mishap. Where’s Lindsey? She’s the only person here I can trust to do anything right the first time.” 

 “Y-you put her on laundry…. Sir….”

 “Go get her.” The young man stared at his boss, with a dumbfounded expression, “That means now, Jason! Goddammit, I’m surrounded by idiots! As for you, Nina. This is the last straw. Pull this shit again and you’re fired. I’ve already got the AHA crawling up my ass about the last case. Go home, I don’t want to see you till Monday.” 

 “-But… I was just having fun with the little guy, I didn’t mean—“ 

 “Monday. 6 am. Got it?” 

 “You know this little fucker bit me? Maybe we shouldn’t waste all our time and effort and just put him down for aggressive behavior!” 

 “Nina, go home!” And with a dissatisfied sigh, she was gone from my field of vision. He spoke, but not to me, “I’m getting way too old for this shit…” I felt eyes trained on me for a split second, before the sound of a door squealing open, caused us both to turn our heads in its direction. 

 Lindsey practically ran in, Jason, seemingly with no sense of urgency whatsoever, following behind. 

 Breathless, the kind woman rushed over to where I lay. The man pressing his thumb into my open flesh, bellowed at her, “Lindsey, finally! I’ve staunched the bleeding. Clean up this godforsaken mess, intubate him, suture the site of incision, blah, blah. You know what you’re doing. I need a fucking cigarette… or ten. Come get me when it’s time for client delivery. Ah, and Jason…. You’ve proven today to be utterly useless, too. Go home and get out of my hair before you make my migraine any worse.” 

 The grumbling voices and movements of the men faded from my notice as the young woman with bright, hazel eyes stared down at me with true compassion. I was a pathetic mess, face streaked with tear stains, the plastic tubing thrust down my throat, half naked and trembling as my knee lay cut open and thoroughly rent. 

 “You poor, poor little thing. What’d they do to you? Are you in pain?” I nodded furiously, tears threatening to fall again. My breathing was ragged. Every muscle in my body ached. I didn’t have the energy to make noise anymore, let alone put up a fight. 

 “Of course you are. Okay, well I promise you I will help you. I’ll do everything I can to help. It’s Alexander, right? I’m Lindsey. I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve this, Alexander. Look at me, hey, it’s okay. Don’t cry. You’ll be back home in no time. But first, I need your help, alright? Will you help me? I need to close up this wound here, so you can start to heal. But, that’s going to be extremely painful if you’re awake. Do I have your permission to put you to sleep so you won’t feel anything?” I jumped, snarling and shaking my head,  “I promise, I know how to do it correctly. You won’t wake up in the middle of it, this time. Look, here, I’ll show you exactly what I’m gonna do. You see your knee, how it’s still all cut open and exposed? I’m going to stitch that all back together, with one line down the middle and a horizontal line above your knee. You’ll have a “T” shaped scar once it heals. All the infection is cleared out and, hopefully you’ll regain full use of that joint after the bone in your leg fuses back. But I don’t know for sure, now that you got an abrasion from a scalpel on top of everything else. Hey, don’t squirm… try to lie still… I know you don’t know me, but I need you to trust me, okay? I wanna see you reunited with… What’s your friend’s name? Is it… Natalie?” I nodded, noticing how my heart fluttered and the machine with its beeping gave away the increase in my heartrate, “I wanna see you reunited with Natalie as soon as possible. You want that, too, don’t you?” I nodded, gritting my teeth through the constant pain, “I’ll make you another promise in return, okay? I won’t leave your side and I won’t let anyone else lay a finger on you until you’re back in Natalie’s hands. Do we have a deal?” I nodded sheepishly. Feeling utterly spent, but still completely terrified, I laid back down, flat on my back, and began counting backwards from one hundred to calm myself. 

 “Okay, Alexander, I’m turning on the anesthesia now. All you have to do is take a deep breath, in through your mouth and out, through your nose… Good, perfect. That’s perfect. You’re going to be okay, Alexander. Natalie’s waiting for you. It’s time to sleep, now… jussstttt relaaaaaxxxxxxx…” My eyelids felt extraordinarily heavy as her voice melted and faded. Then, within another cycle of breath, I was fast asleep. 

 ********************

 I’d long since chewed my cuticles to bits until I drew blood. I’d paced every square inch of this hellish little room that was starting to feel more like a cage than a waiting area. I’d driven the secretary crazy asking time and time again if they’d be done soon. Her flat, insincere, “Any moment, I’m sure” made my blood boil. I was about to tear my hair out at the roots when the squeal of the door made me leap to my feet and fly across the linoleum tiles.The woman who entered the room was a stranger to me. She came in pushing the door with her shoulder, her back to me, initially. As she turned around, I saw why she’d come in that way. Her hands were otherwise full with a tiny little body.

 He was cradled very gently in her cupped hands, completely unconscious. He lay there, peacefully, his knee wrapped thickly in a massive bandage of white gauze. I reached out for him immediately, “Let me! I have to hold him. Is he okay?” Wordlessly, she very carefully slid his limp little form from her hands to mine. I cupped both palms, trembling just to feel his skin on mine again. The second his tiny weight landed in my grasp, my eyes welled with tears. 

 He lay there, completely disheveled, his lips parted, his hair sticking up all over the place, his skin looked pallid and shiny from sweat. I cradled his little head on the pad of my pinky finger. The same one he’d squeezed before being carted off. The rest of him nestled safely in the hammock of my two palms pressed together, his heels resting just over the edges of my hands, balancing atop my wrists. I was so grateful just to hold him again, I leaned in and whispered, “Alexander. You’re okay. You’re coming home… I was so worried about you…” I rubbed his hair from his eyes, caressed his little cheek, traced his chin, rubbed his pecs and relished in the pounding of his tiny heart, all with the tip of my thumb. 

 I had forgotten for a moment that he and I were not the only ones in the room. I glanced up to notice the new vet tech standing politely, staring at the little man in my hands with an expression that mirrored my own. I cleared my throat, hurling a barrage of questions at her, “So? How is he? How’d he do? Is he going to heal successfully?”  

She seemed to hesitate at these questions. My pulse quickened as I watched her cast her eyes down, before meeting my gaze. I furrowed my brow, she cleared her throat, “… He, he was… incredibly brave. The good news is he should be free of infection and after a round of antibiotics, he will be back to normal. Um… However, the surgery involved… well, a little more trauma than expected…” 

“W-what? What does that mean?” 

She was hushed to silence as Doctor Greene chose this incredibly inopportune time to make his appearance. The second he walked in the door the smell of cigarettes wafted in with him. Did the tech’s shoulders seem to slump a bit when he entered the room? “I see you’ve already gotten acquainted with Lindsey…” he then whipped around to her and mumbled under his breath, “I thought you were going to tell me when you were ready to return him…” She didn’t say a word as he turned to me, his voice back to being chipper and light, “…And your little friend is back where he belongs. Wonderful. Now, as you can see, everything went just fine. He’s still under the influence of anesthesia at the moment, and it will likely take him several hours before he’s fully alert and awake again. Now I will tell you, when he does come to, it is highly possible that he will be disoriented and confused. He may not know himself or you at first. He may ramble on about half truths and hallucinations from his experience with us. This often happens. Their little brains get flooded and they become highly overwhelmed. They often exaggerate the details. Don’t worry if he acts a little skittish, or upset by the ordeal, they almost all do. We do everything we can to keep them calm, but it can still be frightening simply because they don’t understand. Just lay him in some dark, isolated place and he’ll quiet down soon enough.” I wasn’t going to put him in solitary confinement after one of the most traumatizing experiences of his life! He’d be right by my side until he made a full recovery. That was non-negotiable. 

I stared at his sleeping form in my hands. Alexander, his head was no bigger than the tip of my pointer finger. His hair stuck to his forehead in a sticky, sweaty mess, his little chest rose and fell in a slow rhythm. I carefully slid him into one cupped palm, gently taking up his tiny left hand on the tip of my, now free, finger. Even in his unconscious state, his body fully limp, the weight of his hand, his arm, felt like nothing. 

Alexander, were they good to you? Are you going to be okay? What did she mean there was more trauma? I wish you’d open your little eyes and talk to me. I want to hear it from you, no one else. He, of course, stayed motionless. The doctor continued on, “I’ve filed a prescription for a round of antibiotics, as well as pain medication, those will stave off infection and help with recovery. Now, the bandages will have to be changed at regular intervals, and please don’t forget to wrap the sutures in plastic wrap before dipping him in water, otherwise you’ll be right back where you started. Keep the area as dry as possible and, of course, keep him from bearing any weight on it for the first four weeks. Speaking of…”

He began to fish in his pocket. I continued to stare at the sleeping little life taking refuge in my hands, my heart skipping a beat when his tiny hand flexed and squeezed my finger. I looked up long enough to see the vet reveal, in the flat of his palm, something sealed in a little plastic bag printed with labels that obscured what was inside, “Now, he, almost guaranteed, won’t need that walking aide long term, but just in case, or at least for those first few weeks, after the initial month off, he’ll have it. You can give it to some dollhouse enthusiast afterwards.” I reached for the tiny aluminum cane, approximately three inches long, and pocketed it, before caressing his bright, golden hair, “And, if you think he’ll try to mess with his bandages too much, these are highly effective at dissuading them…” He’d fished around in a drawer before offering something else in his outstretched hand. This time, it was a tiny little surgical cone. I set my jaw. Absolutely fucking not. He’d kill me if I put that on him. My disapproving sneer was enough to express my opinion on the matter, “Alright, then. Just a suggestion…. I have one more form that I’ll need from you for our exit paperwork and otherwise, Trisha should settle payment at the front desk.”

���You know he’s gonna tell me if you did something….” I tore my eyes away long enough to burn holes into his bespectacled ones. 

He raised his brows, smirking a bit in surprise, “Of course, miss. But, like I said, they come up with all kinds of fanciful tales when under the influence of medication. He’ll likely be quite disoriented and confused.” 

“You have no clue who you’re messing with, do you? If you so much as bent a hair out of place, I promise you, you’re going to regret it. He won’t hesitate to come after you.” 

A stifled chuckle and the clearing of a throat on his part told me what he thought about that. The tech just stared at the floor, clearly unamused. 

I raised a brow, challenging him, “Just wait and see what happens….” It was enough to make the veterinarian and his tech exchange a worried glance. Satisfied, I left that godforsaken room and checked out. It was a blur of curt interactions. I tried not to balk when the total was read aloud. I just wanted to get him home and away from this place. 

The drive home was drizzly, cold. It’d gone from morning to dusk since I’d first arrived, to now, as the hospital finally faded from my rearview mirror. As I drove, I cradled him with one hand against my pounding heart, caressing his head and chest with a thumb. 

 Returning home, finally, after picking up his medications, I collapsed on the bed, unwilling to let him out of my sight for more than the length of a single heartbeat. “You’re gonna be okay, Alexander. You’ll heal up, good as new. I’m right here with you, I’m not going anywhere, never again.” I stroked his head, his cheek, his chest. When I laid the length of my finger down on top of his body, he, as if from instinct, wrapped his tiny arms around it, just like he had the day I’d watched him sleep in my nightstand drawer. 

 I couldn’t help myself, my throat got tight again. Poor Alexander. He was such a fighter, a survivor, but at the end of the day he just needed a little bit of tenderness and love, like everyone else. I burst into tears, “You’re so sweet under all of it. You’re such a sweetheart. So small…. Look at you, look at how little you are. I can feel your tiny heart pounding away. What’re you dreaming about? Do you know you’re safe? Do you know you’re with me?”

 His brow twitched and I held my breath, hoping to watch him stir awake. But no, his little arms went limp again, one sliding off of my finger and landing, limply, by his side. I pinched his other wrist between the pads of my fingers and kissed the inside of his palm with careful lips, “You’re so brave. You’re so incredibly brave. Do you know that? I’m in awe of you. You’re so much stronger than I could ever be…And…I’m so sorry.” My chest hurt as my throat clamped down, the tears cascading down the planes of my face, “I’m sorry if you’re hurting. I never meant to hurt you. You have to know that. I wanted to help. I just wanted to help you get better. Please, please wake up. Alexander? C’mon, open your eyes. Please tell me you’re okay. Tell me that bad feeling I had was just a feeling and nothing more. Did I fuck up? Were you scared? Alone? Did you need me to come rescue you? If they hurt you, I’ll help you kill them and hide the bodies. I swear. I’ll help you make them pay. You deserve so much better than this, Little Nightmare. Let me help make it better. In whatever way I can. Please. Just wake up….” 

 I took his tiny hand and splayed it out on the tip of my finger. It was his left hand, his writing hand. Tiny little veins protruded from the back of it and along his forearm. His fingernails were hard to even see, slightly purple against the rest of his skin. The fingers were lithe, slender. He had ‘perfect piano playing hands’ as my mother had always called them. I adored this little hand. I rubbed the back of it, with an ever so delicate brush of my right thumb. You’re going to do great things with these hands. I know you will. 

 Almost as if on cue, he started to stir and twitch. My heart leapt to my throat, as I watched wide-eyed and breathless. I laid his little hand back down over his chest. I wasn’t sure if he’d be blitzed out from the drugs and think I was trying to grab him. His brow furrowed deeply as he tossed his head to the side. His whole body shivered and his little hands twitched and then relaxed. My heart was thundering away. Then, in a sudden rush, he opened his brilliant little eyes with a gasp, and stared up, directly at me. Good morning, Little Nightmare. 

 “Hello. How are you feeling? Does anything hurt? Are you okay?” I spoke just above a whisper, trying to be as soft and comforting as I could. His brow furrowed as he listened to the timbres of my voice. He looked confused, his eyelids seeming far too heavy for him to keep open. He didn’t say a word, just blinked lazily, his little mouth slightly open, “Alexander? Talk to me. How do you feel?” 

 His eyes batted in rapid succession, he sucked in air, as if shocked, “You know my name???” Did he not even recognize me? Was he still disoriented like the doctor had mentioned?

 “Alexander? Of course I know your name…. Do you know mine? Do you know who—“ 

 He scoffed, blowing air through his lips, interrupting me. He did this far too loudly and for far too long, even after I’d gone silent. As he laid back in my hand, every muscle relaxed, his cheeks flushed, his jaw slack and his speech lazy as though speaking through a mouthful of cotton, that little know-it-all brain of his still managed to shine through, “Of course I know who you are! Easy…” he paused for a full five seconds, searching for the next word, “…peasy…” Oh my fucking god, this tiny man is still high off his fucking ass!

 He blinked, once, twice, three times, as he lifted himself up on an elbow. But he was barely able to do that before he came crashing back down with a little grunt, his head lolling a bit. I tried to stifle my laughter, reminding him to be careful. “No, nnno! D-don’t, don’t you laugh at me!” 

“I’m not! I’m not laughing at you, Alexander, I promise!” I protested, literally fighting to keep my composure as I spoke. 

His brow furrowed as he huffed, all the while pointing his little finger up at me, jabbing the air like a professional swordsman, “You are! You think I don’t know! B-but I’m nnot stupid! I know! I know exactly who you are! Ex-ac-tly!” He punctuated each syllable while his head lolled about and he blinked sleepily, “So don’t… don’t act like I don’t know! I do! I’d recognize you anywhere!!” Okay, little man, we get it. You’re right, I’m wrong, what’s new? Even high you’re always ready to pick a fight with me. 

 I’d gone from weeping over his limp little body, to biting back tears of laughter. He was entirely in his own little world right now. I couldn’t believe I was watching the same super serious, uptight, angry little bastard I’d come to know and love now rambling nonsense in his post-surgery daze. I tipped my chin, having way too much fun, “Oh yeah? Who am I, then, smarty pants? What’s my name??”  

“You…. You are unmistakably–  Mmmm, the air tastes funny…”  

“Alexander!” 

“Hmm??” His eyes were halfway to closing as he mumbled. Poor thing. He’d been through so much. I should let it go. 

“Never mind, forget it… you should rest—“ 

Then, with a sudden burst of energy that made me jump, he stared me straight in the eye and pointed up at me, “Arwen Undómiel!! Th-that’s… that’s your name…” He was grinning from ear to ear, absolutely delighted with himself for cracking the case. 

“I’m sorry… what?!” He thought I was a Tolkien elf. And he’d said it in perfect elvish, no less. The smartest man I’d ever met genuinely believed I was a fictional elf. Oh god, I hope he remembers this, so I can tease him about it later. I couldn’t help myself: I burst into laughter.

[egophiliac]

Hi it's just to let you know that the official romanization of Revaan's name is Raverne ! Also they have romanized Baul's name to Baur !

Twst coming back at us again with the least expected romanization! thank you everybody (oh god my inbox) (no it's great, I literally asked for this and the reactions have been INCREDIBLE, thank you all!)

I do like Raverne though, I think it's got a nice fancy sound to it! (I had kinda suspected it was going to be an R instead of an L, so the fact that it's SO close to Laverne except for that is hilarious to me personally.) and Dragoneye Duke is honestly probably the best translation for his title, I wasn't envying the localizers that one. :') Baur instead of Baul I was NOT expecting, but in retrospect I think his name's supposed to be a reference to the Bauru crocodile, so that actually makes way more sense!

someone else also said Meleanor has become Maleanor, which is the REALLY weird one to me, because I was so surprised it was written as Mel instead of Mal in the first place?! oh god no I can't decide which one I like better. 😭 (I wonder if they might change it to Mal...they have made romanization changes before) (like I remember House of Distraction being corrected to House of Destruction in Playful Land) (I did check and she's still Mel for now, but I dunno, they might Mal her up and some point and save me from having to make a decision about which one to use) (HECK I CAN'T DECIDE)

uhhhh thank you for letting me ramble about anime names, let's just say MONOGRAMMED SWEATERS FOR EVERYONE

[lazylittledragon]

ok i swear i'm not going to talk about my breakup forever but the thing that just keeps bothering me:

i know that not getting what you need in a relationship is a COMPLETELY valid reason to end it but also. i feel like having a very vulnerable moment where i opened up about my struggles with intimacy and being relieved that i didn't have to keep doing things i wasn't comfortable with, then being dumped a YEAR later because of my lack of intimacy. is something i should be allowed to be very hurt by???

[mushiemellows]

Hey bros, does turning the bottom half of your legs into tracked treads count as an assistive mobility device?

Sketch dump from an old unfinished series I like to call "One Piece AU in which everything is the same but we let the quadruple amputee go at his own pace for a goddam second"

He knows all the tricks. But he should have made the grade on that ramp slide a little less steep.

[phoenixcatch7]

Reading loz/lu fics and it's just so interesting how wide the spectrum is of their personalities.

Sometimes it's got an in universe reason (different past (usually gender or species change), recent or ongoing traumatic events, a spectacularly bad first meeting), but sometimes (often) the characters are just... Weirdly angsty or peppy, there's no in between!

And I'm beginning to think less people have played more than one game than I thought XD.

Not that it's anyone's fault! One game is more than enough to be part of it all, and loz is exclusive to Nintendo consoles - and all the older stuff is frustratingly hard to get hold of. Heck, I'm still looking for wind waker, and that was really popular! And then you have to play it! They're not small games!!

But could people writing wild please ease off just a tiiiiiny bit so he can be a semi functional member of society pretty please XD? He's just as much a polite boy as any other member of the chain! He won't even run in shops! He can't attack npcs! He talks to every single person he's ever seen and remembers every single name. Yes, he's three quarters woodland creature with a hefty amount of trauma but he's also a fashionista who managed to avoid accidentally taking sides in a mayoral election and that's not easy!

[carefulfears]

one thing that stands out to me about the IVF arc is the way that, for as much as i make fun of her for asking her coworker if she can have his babies, scully asking mulder to be involved in the biggest process of her life (and the most important thing in the rest of her life) is such a healing and reverent experience. like he says “i’m absolutely flattered,” but it’s so much more than that. it’s like…spending your whole life feeling like you should’ve died at age twelve and then being told someone just wants more of you, more and more and more, in everything.

[bonefall]

Firestar getting treated to a character assassination after The Darkest Hour is my villain origin story tbh

You can see the EXACT moment where the brain worms go terminal when Tigerstar dies in front of him, and he starts going "oooga booga he was strong and noble and had good traits... well need him to fight all these evil foreigners..." Just ceremorphose already, this is #NotMyFirestar

[vaguely-concerned]

more for the garashir fairytale grab bag AU I am never going to actually write: garak knows exactly what would break his curse from the start, he just never tells anyone for the longest time b/c he's so sure it could never happen

(it's asking forgiveness, of course. he thinks it's tain's forgiveness he needs, and tain is fucking dead and knew he would be by the time garak woke up so it seems the perfect unbreakable parting fuck-you revenge curse. and garak would expect nothing less from his father than that, so he's resigned to dwindling away painfully. enter julian bashir and his fierce force-of-nature compassion (and also secret illicit immense magical powers) with a steel chair!!! to go 'OH YEAH??? we'll see about that', as you might expect. oh. OH necromancer-ish julian calling tain's ghost up to ask him about what the hell he did and how to undo it, ala his gambit to go see him the wire? and the knowledge he gains from that is what confirms garak's suspicions as to what is Up with this handsome young healer mage because it could be known only by those long dead. cue east of the sun west of the moon part of the narrative once julian understands his game is up and runs away??

anyway getting some true love's kissing in by the end of it all is just a nice bonus it's not needed like strictly magically for either of their situations lol)

[beanghostprincess]

Seeing Sanji kick Luffy for the mere implication of Usopp leaving the crew is peak boyfriend behavior and if you told me they were actively dating back then I would believe you.

And I am a sucker for secret relationships, okay? It's one of my favorite tropes. But they're not dating in secret because they feel ashamed or embarrassed or whatever. They just want to keep it to themselves for a while as something only theirs, which is good too.

But of course, when Water 7 happens and Sanji is clearly way more affected by Luffy's words implying Usopp could leave than anybody else... If you see it in this concept of these two dating in secret... It just hits harder. Because Sanji can't explicitly say "Don't you dare say that to my boyfriend ever again" but what he can do is kick Luffy for it.

I talk about this a lot, actually, but I don't care. I've been thinking about it more lately. Water 7 happening but nobody knows they're dating. Nobody. Not even Nami, as surprising as it sounds. And when Usopp and Luffy fight... Usopp doesn't have anyone but Sanji doesn't either because he can't tell anyone why Usopp leaving would hurt him more.

I can imagine Sanji making a whole deal out of it and somebody going "We're all worried for him" and Sanji saying "It's not the same" but regretting it immediately because now everybody wonders what the hell he meant by that.

[batsplat]

OT3: casey stoner/his neuroses/the concept of valentino rossi that mostly exists in casey’s head

y'know I have this casey stoner... idk what it is. thematic mind map (literal), let's say, that I like fiddling with and adding things to when the mood hits me. and it does always strike me just how many of his struggles during his careers and issues with the sport can in some way be linked back to the valentino rivalry

casey's sense of isolation? super valentino related. casey's feelings of cultural alienation in a paddock dominated by europeans? even when it's not really related to valentino, casey is the one linking those two things together. casey's issues with other riders not being respectful enough on track? very obviously repeatedly about valentino. casey's discomfort with the performance and entertainment-related aspects of the sport? more valentino. casey feeling treated unfairly by the manufacturers, the media, the marshals, the fans.... keeps coming back to valentino. casey's mystery illness really shouldn't be as relevant to the rivalry as it is, but somehow through this combination of public discourse and whatever comparisons casey's brain is cooking up at any moment in time... there valentino is again

one of the most charming things about valentino's feuds is that in each and every single one, both participants end up being deeply weird about each other? just keep knocking off these banger quotes about the other where you read them and go. hm. what's going on there then. I don't want to make it sound like I think casey is the worst offender with this (not when marc and valentino have their whole thing going on, bidirectionally)... but I do think he's the most susceptible to conflating his valentino issues with like... everything else that was going on in his career. to the extent where his alienation with the sport as a whole, his extreme disillusionment from everything related to motogp, really cannot be meaningfully disentangled from the valentino rivalry. at times it feels like, to casey, valentino literally is the sport. and that's the thing casey dedicated his whole life to!! which means you do inevitably end up regularly going 'wow there's a lot to unpack'. add in a dash of neuroticism...

and yeah you're so right anon!! the neuroses are what end up creating the version of valentino that mostly exists in casey's head, a version that casey is just a touch obsessed with. I always think it's interesting how aware casey is that he doesn't know valentino as a person - and to the extent casey does know him, he gets on pretty well with him... but valentino the person isn't all that relevant to him. it's valentino the character who matters - and can you even really know a character? in the end, all casey can do is rely on his own understanding of that character, as imperfect as it is. and, well, in a way casey is trapped with that character forevermore. if one man comes to embody a sport to such an extent and if that sport has been your life's work, how can you not be a little bit trapped? as he tries to make his peace with the sport and his experiences within it, so too has casey settled on a narrative of valentino that helps him make sense of it all... a very specific understanding of his rival that casey has shaped in his mind and still trots out now when he sells his own version of events to the media. casey learned from valentino, casey learned to be a little more like valentino, casey learned to fight valentino with his own tools, casey tells himself a story of that fight. he still continues to do so - and in the end he will never be entirely free of valentino

[alicentflorent]

You can't take my past, You can't take my history

You can't take my charm, You can't take my humor

Thinking you're in control, Thinking you'll change me, maybe rearrange me Think again, if that's your goal

Cause you can't take my sass, And you can kiss my ass

Nothing you can take from me was ever worth keeping.

[cranberrymoons]

breaking my silence to say that I don't even Hate buck's boyfriend in that way, like I genuinely just think he's boring!!!!!!!! he's so boring 😭 his acting is wooden and his lines are delivered like he's reading them off a cue card and I don't see any story reason for him to still be here and he has no development and I'm BORED by him, he's so boring oh my god

[egophiliac]

CROWLEY SSR THOUGHTS

there is zero basis for this, but I can't get this thought of my head

I don't know why I decided to draw it this way

[fountainpenguin]

Things that happened in Martyn & Cleo Double Life canon:

Cleo hoping to find her soulmate and start a life with them

Cleo dumping Martyn without giving him a chance to explain his side of the story, but hearing him out when he comes to her later

Martyn watching Cleo through his spyglass and telling the audience she seems safe and happy even though he thinks it's weird she's outside at night

Martyn, after he's had time to consider how he wants to play this, spinning a story about trying to be a provider for her and Cleo explaining that she wanted him, not things

Cleo not being remotely impressed by the "I was providing" sob story, lol

Martyn calling Cleo selfish for choosing to be with Scott because she's supposed to be HIS soulmate and he wants a partner

Cleo willing to forgive Martyn if he meets them halfway

Martyn refusing to meet them halfway because he doesn't think he did anything wrong

Martyn screaming about how Cleo's building bridges with Scott but "When will she think about mending our bridges???"

Martyn explaining to Cleo that he doesn't understand why his Session 1 actions bothered them

Martyn centering his character arc and roleplay on trying to win Cleo back without actually apologizing

Cleo giving Martyn a flower and stating that if he loses it, she'll be real cross with him

Cleo chasing Martyn out of her yard because he tried to put an HOA sign on her base and she wanted to make it clear that she wasn't associated with them and their hate for his base (even though she does think his heart base is strange)

Martyn attacking Cleo after she said attacking is a form of affection to her

Cleo setting boundaries with Martyn and explaining what he can do to get her back

Cleo sighing when Scar set her up on a date with Martyn, but taking the chance to talk to him instead of walking out

Cleo genuinely wanting Martyn in her alliance

Martyn and Cleo giggling constantly when they chat

Scar asking if Martyn wanted him to play a romantic music disc for him and Cleo (and Martyn getting excited and saying yes)

Martyn offering to take Cleo's armor and weapons to the deep dark so he can enchant them and bring them back while she stays safe

Cleo gifting Martyn diamonds, expecting nothing in return but not wanting him to die from lack of a good sword

Martyn and Cleo forming a secret alliance that allows Cleo to live with Scott while being on good terms with Martyn

Martyn expressing frustration that Cleo wants to keep this alliance secret because he wants them to be public allies; Cleo softly shushes him when people approach and might overhear

Martyn telling Cleo that she's putting out a lot of mixed signals because she keeps reeling him in and then pushing him away, claiming he is very confused about where he stands with her

Martyn teasing Cleo by punching her off a cliff and accidentally killing her and feeling so bad about it that he apologizes profusely despite roleplaying as someone who refused to apologize for Session 1

Martyn and Cleo immediately threatening Bdubs together when he said hi to them while they were hanging out, sdkfj

Martyn genuinely apologizing to Pearl for dumping her after Session 1

Martyn hiding under Cleo's bed while she defends him from an enderman attack

Cleo offering to let Martyn move into her house after Etho and Joel grief his base; Martyn saying he might take her up on that

Cleo and Martyn agreeing to move out and base together at Box

Cleo trusting Martyn with the location and resources of her red life base

Martyn rushing to Cleo's aid in the deep dark and trying to turn everyone against him instead

Cleo responding to Martyn's panicked shouts for her to eat by opening her inventory to get food (and drowning because she forgot she was in water)

Cleo hanging back and letting Martyn attack Scott while she does nothing to stop him from doing so, implying as much as she likes Scott, she won't kill Martyn (and herself) for him (and/or she trusted Scott to handle himself even though he ran away while Martyn was shooting at him)

Things that did not happen:

Cleo unwilling to forgive Martyn or consider being his friend and partner

Martyn and Cleo hating each other

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk

[whatsagirltoblogabout]

Having thoughts about Neal Caffrey and a twist on the Will Herondale curse where instead of it being "everyone you love will die", it's "everyone who loves you will die."

[skunkes]

if life is categorized by Before Loss and After Loss then I exist in the before but with a countdown to the after. and the countdown is always always present and debilitating. the loss will be debilitating too but i cant help myself. i will always suffer twice.