#So I figured I may as well project onto MC a little bit lol

[password-door-lock]

Unknown doesn’t really care about you. That’s been his conviction from day one, the truth to which he has clung with a vice grip throughout his acquaintance with you. He doesn’t care about you, he doesn’t care what’s convenient for you, and he doesn’t care about your feelings. He certainly doesn't care that you've been restless all night, waking up at odd intervals to sniffle for a bit before returning to your tossing and turning. He supposes that he does care if you’re able to help him fulfill his plan, though you’ve already thrown a wrench into it once by refusing to enter the code correctly at the apartment. He had no choice but to bring you back to Magenta, which may have been a bad call, but Unknown has about as much patience for surprises as he does for liars— which is to say, none at all— and your inability to listen forced him to make a snap decision on the spot. 

Presently, he's working at his desk, and you’re asleep on the couch, stirring and whining occasionally in what he imagines is discomfort. He wonders if you're experiencing something akin to the nightmares that plague him when he forces himself to rest, but then goes out of his way to dissolve the thought. Unknown doesn’t like to linger on his own pain. Why would he? So instead, he watches you sleep fitfully. After a few minutes of this, you blink awake. You sit up, looking around frantically. “Did you have a bad dream, prince(ss)?” Unknown asks, amused despite himself. You look adorable even in the faint light provided by his monitor, with your eyes wide and your head swiveling comically from side to side.

“No; don't worry,” you reply, “But my throat hurts, and my nose is all stuffed up— I think I might have a cold or something.” That much is obvious from your voice. 

Even so, Unknown’s fingers pause where they are above his keyboard. In fact, his whole body freezes. He’s stiff, unsure of how to handle the situation. If you have a sore throat and a stuffy nose, then you’re almost definitely sick— Unknown doesn’t have time to process all the reasons why he doesn’t like that thought. He only allows himself to acknowledge the fact that it irks him. “You’re sick,” he informs you, trying not to sound nervous. It’s important that he maintains a calm tone in order to maintain his iron grip on the situation. 

You’re already starting to tremble so obviously that he can see it even from his vantage point across the room. What reason do you have to be trembling? Unknown wonders. He’s the one who might get sick as a result of your negligence— he’s been in here with you all night, breathing your air and touching things you’ve also touched. If you’re sick, then there’s a pretty solid chance that Unknown is going to be next— he growls, annoyed at the thought of losing progress with his work for something so pointless. If his head gets foggy with fever, he’ll work a lot slower, which will doubtlessly cause problems for him in his quest for revenge. It pisses him off that this is something over which he has no jurisdiction— you might be at the mercy of his whims, but your illness is not. 

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out. He should feel good that you’re apologizing, taking responsibility; he should enjoy the knowledge that you’re shaking in fear of how he might respond to this latest inconvenience. Yes, you should be sorry, shouldn’t you? You’re the one who brought some bug into the intelligence room, after all. 

But, inexplicably, Unknown does not feel comforted at all. “Don’t waste time apologizing,” he snaps. It’s always grounding to snap at people— it reminds him that he’s in control. Of course, you do that well enough on your own; you make your devotion obvious with every thoughtful gesture and every offhand word. It’s almost cute, the way you bend over backwards for him. 

Before he can tell you what you should start doing in lieu of telling him you’re sorry, you lapse into a prolonged period of violent coughing. “Sorry,” you choke out again once you’re finished. 

“Okay.” Unknown doesn’t even bother telling you not to apologize again. He’s annoyed that you’re sick, but he’s even more annoyed that he has to stop working to help you deal with your emotions. Can’t you handle your feelings on your own? Why would you rely on him for something like this? Wouldn’t it be easier for you to just sulk in the corner without making a peep? But Unknown concedes that in all other cases, your reliance on him is a good thing. It makes you easier to control. 

Maybe this is a necessary sacrifice, he decides, and that’s what’s compelling him to continue this discussion. If he handles your feelings neatly, you might follow his instructions better, and he can spend his time on more important things. If he lets you stew with your strange guilt, especially when you’re trying to recover from a cold, then he’s going to have to deal with it later, when your emotional and physical condition are both significantly worse. Unknown isn’t interested in that. 

“Is there anything I can do to help you?” You ask, as if he hasn’t already made it clear to you that there isn’t.

Unknown is beside himself. What are you talking about? How could you possibly help him? You can barely carry on a conversation without losing your train of thought in a fit of coughing. “No. You don’t need to worry about that,” he tells you flatly. “Just keep quiet and rest so you get better fast, hm? I don’t want to deal with a sick assistant any longer than I have to.”

“Are you sure?” You ask. Though he doesn’t understand why, Unknown is suddenly very glad that you’re feeling well enough to pester him. “There’s gotta be something I can do.” 

“I just told you what to do,” he reminds you, “So maybe you should start listening before you regret it.” 

“You’re threatening me? Even though I’m sick?” As if your feigned shock wasn’t annoying enough, you take the liberty of pretending to cough into your hand. Of course, this fake cough soon turns into a fit of very genuine coughing— good. It serves you right for trying to mock him. 

“Mhm,” Unknown hums, "Now, why don’t you try to follow directions instead of talking nonsense?” It puts him at ease to play this game with you. He doesn’t have to contend with any emotions he may harbor about the situation if you’re up for a verbal sparring match, and he’d never pass up an opportunity to assert his control. 

“Whatever you say.” You salute him, then sneeze obnoxiously into your elbow. For how long, exactly, is he going to have to deal with this behavior? “What did you want me to do, again?” 

“Now you’re just looking for attention,” Unknown decides. He has no idea why you’re so committed to the idea of working when he’s giving you not simply the license, but the direct order to rest, though it doesn’t really matter. He’s already told you several times that he doesn’t need you to work on anything, and besides, he wants you to feel better. But that makes sense— of course he would want his assistant to be functioning normally. His motivations are entirely justifiable. “Go lay back down and don’t bother me again.”

“Okay, okay,” you hold up your hands and gaze at him with adoration. “I get it! You don’t want me to work! Who are you and what have you done with Unknown?” He just glares at you, waiting for you to finish giggling at your own joke. “But, sure, whatever, I’ll try to rest. Feel free to wake me up if you need something, though. I want to help you if I can.” 

Unknown rolls his eyes. He’s glad to have such a loyal assistant, but you seriously need to stop challenging his authority like this. “I’m not going to tell you again,” he warns. 

“I said okay! Look, here I am resting.” After another prolonged coughing fit, you make a big show of laying back down on the couch and closing your eyes— and if Unknown finds himself smirking a little at your fake snoring noises, that’s none of anybody’s business.

[jerzwriter]

No Cure...

Book: Open Heart (Book 2 "Reset" timeline)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Kaycee)

Rating: Teen

Words: 1037

Summary: Ethan leaves work early one day and runs into Kaycee at an unexpected place. He's impressed with a project she's undertaken, but when he walks away he realizes, there is no cure.

A/N: Thank you to @kyra75 and ananon for these two prompt requests (one two). I combined them and was SO happy to get out of my Ethan/Kaycee slump! So appreciated guys!

Yeah, I sort of mixed in my TLOU obsession lol it doesn't fit the timeline, but I only mention the fungus outbreak, not the show, so I'm going with it. lol I hope you enjoy it! I did not have a chance to edit extensively - so be kind :)

@choicesmonthlychallenge Prompt: Slow Burn, Holding Hands

Stepping out onto the busy Boston street, Ethan Ramsey took a deep breath. A self-professed workaholic, he would never admit how refreshing it felt to leave work a little early today. Not that he was truly leaving. Heading home to pack for an early flight, he knew his evening would be spent preparing for a keynote address he’d be making tomorrow at Perelman. Still, seeing the sunshine without the benefit of the thick glass windows between them was a pleasure he knew he didn’t enjoy frequently enough.

It was a lovely day, and he was delighted to live close enough that his commute home relied solely on his two feet. The crowds didn’t seem to bother him today. In fact, he may have nodded and smiled at a passer-by or two. Catching himself, he decided to reel that in. It could be a co-worker or, heaven forbid, an intern with whom he wasn’t well acquainted. He couldn’t have news of him being pleasant getting back to the hospital. He did have a reputation to uphold.

He turned down a familiar street and opened a rackety old door, the sound of the bells on the hinge announcing his arrival didn’t turn a single head inside Donahue’s, but it all but said welcome home to Ethan. His eyes blinked to adjust to the dark bar; mid-day stops here while the sun still shone brightly in the sky weren’t all that common, but this was the time he was leaving today. There was no way he was skilling his ritual that divided his work and personal lives.

Sitting on his regular stool at the nearly empty bar, he lamented that he couldn’t get here at this time more frequently. The familiar scent of stale beer was almost enjoyable when partnered with the low hum of soft jazz emitting from the speakers in the nearly empty room. A pleasant departure from the raucous crowds and their heinous jukebox selections that were present on a typical night. Maybe he should make leaving work a bit early a more common event?

“Hey, hey, hey!” A familiar baritone sang as Ethan’s regular drink was placed before him. “Not used to seeing you here so early. Don’t tell me you got fired?”

Ethan chuckled at his old friend, an only partially facetious smirk on his lips. “As if they could survive without me, Reggie.”

“You never know,” his friend snickered as he wiped down the mahogany bar. His neck stretched toward the back of the room, where a lone figure sat hunched over a pile of books in a corner booth. “I think some of these young ones may just be able to replace you one day, Dr. Ramsey.”

Ethan’s eyes followed Reggie’s motions, and his face went pale when he saw a tuft of blonde hair buried in books, her hands feverishly taking notes as the glass of ginger-ale at her side sat woefully neglected. 

“It’s her day off….” Ethan said, not realizing he was talking out loud. “What is she doing here alone at this hour?”

“Got me,” Reggie shrugged with a shit-eating grin. “You know her much better than I do, after all.”

Uncomfortably clearing his throat, Ethan returned to his drink, ignoring the bartender’s comment. He already knew he was lying when he told himself he wouldn’t interrupt or acknowledge her at all. She was clearly busy, and he was there for one drink before he went home to prepare. He wouldn’t so much as make eye contact, he swore. Which only made him feel more like a fool five minutes later when he appeared at her table, fresh ginger ale in his hand.

“I don’t mean to interrupt,” he smiled sheepishly, “but the ice in your drink looks like it melted an hour ago, and it’s barely touched. So, I thought you could use a fresh one.”

Kayce knew his voice at the first syllable he spoke, but she still couldn't contain her delight when she looked up from her book, and her eyes confirmed what she already knew. Her eyes were bright, cheeks rosy… she looked like a child who was just offered their favorite treat before dinner. As lovely a sight as she was, Ethan diverted his eyes. Partly because seeing her this way warmed his heart more than he cared to admit, partly because he didn’t feel he warranted that reaction… not from Kaycee… not after all that had transpired between them. 

But where Ethan felt troubled, Kaycee felt none of that at all. She happily accepted the fresh drink, pushing the now stale earlier version to the side.

“Thank you, Dr. Ramsey. What a pleasant surprise! I wouldn’t expect to see you here at this hour of the day.”

She gestured for him to sit on the bench across from her, and even though he swore to himself he wouldn’t, one motion of her hand had him succumbing to her will without thought.

“I’m leaving a bit early today… I have the speech at Perelman tomorrow….”

“Ah! My alma mater!” Kaycee beamed. “I almost wish I could go.”

“That’s right, you graduated from there,” he pretended that was news to him as if he didn’t have every bit of her history he was blessed to know committed to his mind. For all the engagements he had turned down this year, deep down, he wondered if Kaycee’s connection to Perelman hadn’t subconsciously led him to accept this invitation. “Perhaps if I go again….”

He started, but Kaycee smiled and cut him off.  “Perhaps.”

She knew it wasn’t true. He wouldn’t be extending an offer for her to join him, not after the last time he had and how disastrously that had gone. Miami alone might not have precluded it, but everything that followed did. This whole reset was his idea and his alone. He knew how she felt about him… at least, she assumed he did. He was the best diagnostician in the world, after all, he had to be able to read her like a book. She was nowhere near as astute as he, and she could tell how much he was fighting his feelings anytime he looked her way. What Kaycee didn’t know is Ethan still had the edge on her for all things medical, though she’d catch up to him in time. But regarding matters of the heart, Dr. MacClennan was light years ahead of her medical idol.

“Why are you here? Buried in books, no less.  It’s your day off, and I would have expected you to be doing something more pleasant.”

“What’s not pleasant about this?”  She asked.  “I wanted to continue a project I’m working on, but the apartment is a little noisy, and I didn’t want to be in the hospital.  Donahues… it almost feels like home… and when it’s quiet like this, and I have Reggie here to watch over me, it’s a delightful place to spend my afternoon off.”

Ethan tried to contain a slight, approving grin.  He understood exactly what she had meant, and Reggie had looked over him many a day when he was a resident.  Sometimes it amazed him how much they…. No…. he pushed the thought from his head. 

“Ehrm, so what is it you’re working on? Something for the team?”

“Not exactly,” she corrected.  “Remember that group of kids that came in from the McKinley School the other day?”

“Yes, the ones who left gum wrappers all over my desk?”

Kaycee rolled her eyes.  “It was one gum wrapper Ethan, left by one child.  And tell me you wouldn’t have done that in third grade.”

The sheepish grin on his face was all the confirmation she needed, and now she diverted her eyes, uncomfortable with the warmth rising in her chest.  

“Continue,” Ethan encouraged.

“Well, a couple of the kids were talking about that zombie movie that’s all the rage right now.  They were terrified, thinking it could happen.  I told them science fiction is always more fiction than science, but they weren’t convinced, and a few were genuinely scared.  So, I’m putting something together that their teacher could incorporate into a science lesson showing cordyceps cannot transfer to humans.”

Ethan was impressed; he stared at her in awe of her innovation, her desire to keep children grounded in science, and mostly, her compassion at wanting to put their minds at ease.  But when words escaped him, Kacyee assumed he thought it was a foolish idea.  Swirling her pen nervously in her hair, she returned to her work.

“Anyway, I guess you could say it’s silly, but….”

“It’s not silly at all,” he insisted. “Honestly, I’m impressed.”

“You are?”

“Yes! You’re increasing your understanding of the topic. It’s helping improve our woefully underperforming science educational programs… you’re showing how science can be applied and maybe inspiring some bright young minds to pursue a future in the field in the process.  That’s not even considering how kind it is of you to want to alleviate their fears.  Kids today have enough to worry about and don’t need silly stuff to add to the plate.”

“Aww, Dr. Ramsey! You do care!” She teased.

“About you? Always… er, eh.. your medical career and innovation… that is.. of course.”

“Of course,” Kaycee said, hiding a smile.

“We have a budget to assist with local school programs.  Perhaps you could work with Baz and create a lab project  – something the kids could do hands-on.  I’d happily approve time off for the two of you to oversee that.”

“We could! That would be incredible! I’d love that!”

He nodded, smiling brightly at her enthusiastic response.  “Then consider it done. We’ll make it happen.”

“That’s such a great idea! I’m really impressed,” Kaycee joked. “You know, you’re smarter than you look, Ramsey!”

“Oh, really,” he laughed. “This is what’s convinced you of that?”

She raised her eyes to his bashfully with a little shrug. 

“Now, was that a compliment for my intelligence, or an insult for my looks?”

Kaycee lifted the ginger ale Ethan had brought to her lips, taking a long gulp.  You would have thought it was much more potent as it gave her the confidence to answer his question.

“Honestly, I think it’s abundantly clear that I’m highly impressed by both.”

Ethan’s eyes flickered over to hers, the air charged between him, and he felt his inhibitions slipping.

“Careful, MacClennan, it sounds like you’re flirting with me.”

Kaycee bit her lip, then smiled… what’s the worst that could happen?

“Well… I have been trying to do that for a while now,” she said, reaching over the table and placing her hand on his.  “I’m happy to see you’re noticing.”

Ethan opened his mouth, but words failed him as Kaycee's eyes refused to look away from his.  She smiled softly. He may have been silent, but he didn’t retrieve his hand, allowing them both to sit and basque in the overwhelming pleasure that simple gesture brought them both.

“I… I just think that….” Ethan fumbled, but Kaycee did not.

“What I wouldn’t do to have you on that FMRI now,” she purred, satisfied with the bashful grin he offered.  “In fact, maybe that can be our next lesson… for the kids?”

“Uh, I don’t know,” he cleared his throat loudly.  He looked around the bar, and when he was confident Reggie was the only other person there, he consciously decided to let his hand remain. Emboldened, Kaycee squeezed his hand tighter, hoping that small gesture would convey all the emotion she carried for him in her heart.

“It’s OK, and I wouldn’t want to subject the children to… us. Med school students, perhaps, elementary school, nah.  Let them keep their innocence.”  

The look of longing on Ethan’s face was palpable, and Kaycee knew precisely what would come next if he just would say the word… then, he pulled his hand away.

“Anyway… I should head home and begin to pack.”

 “Of course,” she sighed, finding it impossible to hide the disappointment on her face.  “But when you’re back… maybe you can help me with the project… for the kids… it could be… fun?”

“I’m sure it will be,” he said, standing up from the booth.  “But you should work on it with Baz.  Why don’t you reach out to him about it tomorrow?”

“I will,” she swallowed, lifting her glass once again.  “Safe travels tomorrow, Ethan, and thank you for… for everything.”

She watched Ethan until he walked out the front door, never once catching Reggie shaking his head with disappointment.  It took some time before she could gather her thoughts and return to her work, only one thought on her mind as she did.

No, fungus won’t take over your brain, kids.  You don’t have to worry about that. Fungus won’t take over your heart or your mind, but love… I make no promises about what love might do to you… and it seems once you’re infected, there is no cure.

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