#The Horrors (waiting for the doctor and frantically telling the nurse who told me to undress that I don't want that kind of exam)

[isfjmel-phleg]

😶

[solitarelee]

Sol/Lee's One Stop Source For 'There Are Mushrooms Growing In My Skull' Updates

Hey guys, I'm briefly able to be upright and at the computer so I'm going to try and do a short little timeline of the past few weeks that I can just link to people. It'll be my temporary pinned post and I'll keep updating it, so check back here if you want the latest news.

Last Update 7:30pm 7/25

Current status: Pain briefly 12/10, back to 8/10, difficulty eating, difficulty sleeping, nauseous, severely dizzy, moderate to severe hearing loss, hole in both ear drums

TWs for: medical, hospital, medical malpractice, infection, fungus/parasite, suicide/suicidal ideation, body horror

The evening of Sunday, July 10th, I notice some tenderness in my right ear. I ignore it, assuming a scratch, and sleep with earplugs as usual. By the night of Monday, July 11th, the pain has worsened so I elect to go to urgent care the next day, presuming I have developed an ear infection.

Tuesday, July 12th, I go to the urgent care for the first time. My discomfort is minor, the doctor prescribes me antibiotic ear drops.

Thursday, July 14th, I return to the urgent care. My right ear is worsening and the infection has spread (I am corrected firmly that it has not "spread") to my left ear. I am concerned about the worsening symptoms but am told it's only been two days. The second nurse examines my ears and says that the right ear is an outer ear infection and the left is an inner, so I will need antibiotic pills on top of the ear drops, which I am to continue using.

Condition continues to worsen, however, I maintain course, cancelling my birthday plans and waiting for the meds to kick in. In the meantime, I am unable to sleep due to the pain, and haven't slept more than a few hours in a row since Sunday night. My jaw can't fully close and I am on a liquid diet. Near midnight July 19th, Tuesday, one week after initial appointment, I notice strange discharge. Against all good advise, I prod a q-tip gently into my ear. It comes back covered in black spores. Terrified, I check the other side. Black spores. Frantic and suspecting my ear infection is not bacterial but fungal, I make another appointment at an urgent care.

July 20th I go to see my third nurse practitioner, blackened q-tip in hand. I am concerned about the worsening symptoms but am told it's only been seven days. However, the nurse also seems concerned and does an exam. She says the blackness does not look like fungus, but like "some kind of black scabbing." She admits she's never seen a fungal infection, or this, before, and refers to me to an ENT, saying it's out of her league and I need to see a specialist right away. She takes a sample to send off for culture. She prescribes me a different kind of antibiotic ear drop to use in the meantime.

I immediately begin calling the recommended ENTs, however I am quickly informed that Medicaid does not accept referrals from urgent care and I need to see a primary care doctor in order to get a referral. At this point, I have what I believe to be wholly untreated fungus growing in my ears, and am getting frantic as both the pain and my psychological distress worsens. I call my primary's office and leave a message. They call back, and I explain the situation, however, the soonest appointment my primary has is August 1st, 12 days away. I explain the situation again and ask if she can just recommend me to an ENT without seeing me, based on the urgent care referral. I am told she cannot. Frantic and frustrated, I tell the clerk I'll just have to go to the ER instead. She hesitates, and then suggests I just see "any doctor" who can see me fast enough. I eagerly agree, having been under the impression due to previous experience that doctors at this particular practice have to have "new patient" appointments before they can see you for something like this. Mercifully, the clerk schedules me to see another doctor in the office the afternoon of the next day.

By this point the pain is excruciating, and I am unable to sleep or eat. My mother is now deeply concerned by all this and drives me to the doctor herself as I'm becoming delirious from pain, lack of food and lack of sleep, and am certainly in no condition to drive. July 21st, I arrive at the new doctor. I'm examined again; according to my appointment records both ear drums are fully obscured due to brown debris and thick white discharge. The doctor seems alarmed by the state of my ears. After leaving for a moment to look at some medical books, the doctor returns and tells me it looks like I have a fungal ear infection. She says it was likely exacerbated by the antibiotics and to stop them immediately and not start the new prescribed one (which wasn't ready due to several pharmacy delays). She tells me on no uncertain terms I need to see an ENT immediately to clean the debris and fungus out of the ear, and prescribes me antifungal ear drops. The medical assistant comes to me after a long wait and tells me that she's gotten me an August 16th appointment with an ENT, but knows it's not good enough and will continue trying, and call me when she finds something better. Thanking them both, I leave, get a bit of food, and head home.

The pharmacy informs us that they do not have the antifungal in stock and it will need to be mail ordered. That evening, the doctor's assistant (ilu Melissa) informs me she's gotten me an appointment on Monday morning with an ENT just over the state border that can accept my insurance anyway. (Finding doctors that take Unicare/Medicaid is a major struggle.)

Overnight Thursday, the pain continues to worsen. At this point it has been severe for days and is growing steadily worse. It feels like my head is full of glass shards, the pain is hot and burning and scratchy and stabby. I feel as though every canal in my head is full of acid and steel wool. The pain has spread into my throat and swallowing is becoming difficult to impossible. I briefly lose consciousness early in the morning, blacking out from the pain, and am relieved, praying that I'm either dying or entering a coma so I can escape the pain. I awaken later to even worse pain, and begin frantically calling every emergency room and pharmacy in the state, asking for help and trying to find anyone that has the drops in stock.

Around 8:30AM I make the decision to go to the ER, despite having been warned there's possibly not anything that they can do. I am afraid the fungus is in my throat as well and even if I get the ear drops, it will grow there untreated until Monday when I can go to the ENT. An increasingly frantic mother drives me to the ER on the morning of July 22nd.

I arrive at the ER slightly delirious from pain and lack of sleep. I'm checked in immediately as they have empty rooms (thank g-d) and am seen relatively quickly. The doctor is unable to tell if there's anything in my throat as he doesn't have a scope, I am informed that an ENT could tell and tell him that I have an ENT on Monday. He is relieved I managed to get in to see one so quickly. After discussing courses of action with me, we settle on giving me an oral antifungal to try and keep any possible infections from worsening before I can see the ENT.

Towards the end of the emergency room visit, the pain killers (I'd been on 600mg of ibuprofen + 500mg tylenol constantly for the past two weeks) I was on were wearing off, and I began to, for lack of a better word, "freak out," pushing and clawing at my ears as the pain worsened and worsened. I was, thank g-d, given narco (tylenol+hydrocodeine) for the pain and discharged.

Friday morning still, I stumble to the car and am driven home by my mother, who's Pretty Freaked Out as I slip in and out of consciousness, groaning in pain as I wait for the medication to kick in. Everything is a black and red, sharp haze full of barbed wire, and I hope again that I'm dying.

We manage to get me home and into bed. I lay stock still, gripping my mother's hand, as it makes the pain lessen. Slowly, the pain medicine begins to kick in, taking the sharpest edges off the pain. Some birthday presents from friends have arrived, lightening my mood somewhat, and mom manages to get me to eat. I pass out for a bit, and wake up to a call from the pharmacy. My meds are ready: all of them. I stay conscious long enough to tell my mother, and then pass out again immediately (probably thanks to the hydrocodeine lol). I wake up at 4pm to medicine, which I take immediately, and then pass back out.

At time of writing it's 5AM July 23rd. I've had two rounds of oral anti-fungals and two rounds of ear drop anti-fungals. The pain is still present but is slowly lessening. It's well below "kill me now, put me down like a tortured dog" levels, which I appreciate greatly. I've been able to stand up to get to the computer to type this. I still can't really hear out of either ear (the sound is muffled, more than when I'm wearing ear plugs. all I can hear is my own heartbeat). However, despite a bunch of pretty wild side effects (I cried for almost 18 hours straight, even while unconscious! it wasn't out of pain, the crying felt like relief), I am definitely improving, although I can't tell which medicine is doing it (it's probably all of them).

UPDATE 6PM July 23rd: I'm currently oozing a pretty insane amount out of my right ear. It is brown and disgusting but probably a good sign. It hurts more in that ear too, probably due to the oozing. Sometimes I wake up feeling pretty good and can move around, but within abt 30 minutes of activity I get very sleepy again. Think I'm continuing on the upward swing, though, and plan to just. Keep sleeping.

UPDATE 3:30AM July 24th: Currently in a rough patch because the ER doctor didn't actually give me enough pain meds to last til my doctor appt. They're every 4-6 hours; if I'd taken them every 4 I'd have run out halfway thru Saturday. Even taking them every 6, I'd run out Sunday night. It's frustrating to because there were 9 pills, you can tell he did the math to see exactly how few he could get away with giving me to "get me" to Monday. There are a lot of complicated reasons for this but they mostly come down to "legislated eugenics in the guise of fighting the 'opioid epidemic.'" So anyway I'm rationing out about 2.5 hours of agony between pills to make them stretch. I'm not very happy about it.

Anyway, in a lot of pain. Dizzy. My hearing is getting a lot worse, I can barely hear anyone anymore. Being temporarily hard of hearing is more annoying than genuinely inconvenient but it'd really suck if I had to go anywhere. I can hear inside my own head just fine so I think it's just be blocked. Did I mention I'm dizzy? So, so dizzy. Both ears expelling a lot of unpleasant brown liquid that I assume is that color bc it's dead fungus. If the doctor does clean out my ears Monday I feel like it's gonna be INSANE.

The horror of the situation has settled into an unreal sort of mundanity as the constant naps make a few days feel like a few weeks. My friends are making a lot of jokes, mostly about Resident Evil. Crow has named the infestation "Steve." I can feel it becoming just one more thing that's gone wrong with me. IDK what it says about me or my ability to cope that I can experience my biggest lifelong fear and wind up just tired about it within a few days. I guess if you almost die enough times, your brain becomes slippery to the trauma. If I try to think about the reality of it, my brain just turns into a completely smooth orb and it slips off to the side. I may be describing PTSD. Oh well.

UPDATE 4:30PM July 24th: The pain has definitely gone down in my ears. It's still present and stabby but it's getting more manageable, and just in time since I've been running out of pain pills. I think it might have been those pills that were making me so hungry, also, because now that I've been weaning off of them my appetite is shot and it's a struggle to eat again, which is worrying my mom. I'm going to try and make myself eat after I finish writing this.

My hearing is definitely getting worse, although I do hear some mysterious popping from inside my ears sometimes that is probably drainage or something. It is really hard to hear; if I'm talking or breathing or my stomach is gurgling I can't hear a damn thing coming in from the outside world. It's mostly annoying because I have to keep asking people to repeat themselves.

ENT is tomorrow morning, so the next update you guys see from me will probably have a lot of info. Pray for me or sacrifice a goat in my name or whatever it is yall do!

UPDATE 1PM July 25th: This'll be a long one so buckle up. It's also going to be kinda gross. There won't be a tl;dr but I'll try to emphasize important bits. So I went to the ENT. It was part of a huge complex and I was sent to the wrong building and had to hoof it half a mile to the right one, but it was fine other than wearing me out. The campus was very pretty and had good sidewalks, at least.

The ENT saw me basically instantaneously, took one look in the ears, and began to vacuum. Yes, vacuum. It was one of the single most bizarre and disturbing sensations of my life. I could feel liquid, yes, but also somewhat large chunks getting pulled out of my ears. Occasionally one would be too large for the vacuum and she'd have to pause to de-clog. As I expected, it wasn't exactly a one stop fix, but it was able to clear things out enough for us to at least see a bit more of what was up.

Some of it's what we already know: I have a pretty severe fungal infection. It is in there. They have set up a home base in my skull and it's going to be a long process to get them out, anti-fungals and weekly vacuuming for as long as it takes, which will probably be a while. I personally expect to be at this for at least a month.

Bad news: I have a brand new hole in my left eardrum. At some point during the infection, it ruptured (no wonder I was in such intense pain). That could (and probably already has) lead to complications such as the fungus spreading places we really would rather it not go. We'll be monitoring it closely, and I'm following up with my primary (or rather, Dr. James, since she knows what's up already) to see what I can do to keep an eye on potential infections in my sinuses, nose, or like, yknow. Blood, bones, and brain. Ideally it won't come to that. Ideally, the rupture will heal on its own, but for right now all we can do is keep an eye on it. Once the infection is fully gone, then we can talk options.

My ears are wild due to the amount that was sucked out and the amount that's still in. Things are lose in there and shifting around and blockages are changing sides and one side is clearing and then clogging and the other is clogging then clearing. It'll probably only continue to be weird as I continue to treat it with anti-fungals that will kill and knock more loose. The end result is that I'm very off-balance and extremely disoriented, unable to tell what direction any sounds are coming from.

So I guess I do have a tl;dr for you: tl;dr, I still have fungus in my head and I will probably for a while yet. I'll keep updating this post, maybe not daily, but regularly, whenever there's an update. Honestly I think it will do me good to have a place to organize my thoughts, although after this I'll start doing updates in a reblog instead of just making this top post longer and longer.

This has been a pretty traumatic experience for me, just due to it being one of my personal biggest fears, and also just the ongoing anxiety of not knowing the answers to big questions like "will my hearing come back fully" and "are there any mushrooms in very important places." I appreciate the support, and some ongoing gentleness as I continue to deal with this while also starting school back up and stuff.

[firefly-in-darkness]

Goodbye

Characters → Y/N & Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester [mentioned]

Summary → Y/N can’t fight her feelings anymore, she has to leave.

Prompt → “I didn’t have it in me to go with grace.” [In bold]

Word Count → 1.3k

Warnings → 18+, canon typical violence, angst. no happy ending.

Beta → @writethelifeyouwant // all mistakes are my own.

A/N → This is for @negans-lucille-tblr 'roll the dice' challenge, enjoy the angst! Well, it’s been a while since I wrote about our Dean, but looks like I’ve gone straight in for the kill. Sorry, not sorry. As always, love feedback, comments and reblogs!

Masterlist

Sam understood why Y/N was packing to leave. Dean didn’t.

“You can’t leave.” Dean’s voice was stern as he stood in the doorway of the motel room, arms crossed with authority. “Please wait a few days, rest up. We can talk about this then.”

Y/N didn’t know what to say, she didn’t know how to bluff her way through this, couldn’t avoid how she felt about Dean bursting out in an array of words that would leave her in more pain than ever before. Her only option was to leave. She couldn’t have this conversation, it hurt too much and it would end up the same way no matter how she worded it. She would be rejected by Dean and must leave the Winchesters.

The pain of goodbye rested heavy in her heart with each item that she packed away; the plaid shirt that Dean had accidentally shrunk - looks better on you anyways - the notebooks that Sam had given her to deal with the demons in her head, and then the polaroid of the three of them leaning against the Impala - be careful, don’t scratch Baby. It has nearly faded now, almost five years have passed since that day.

Y/N zipped up the duffel bag, tucking away her memories to gain the courage to finish her mission to leave. She gave Dean a sad smile before she squeezed by him, the doorframe rubbing against her back. His hand wrapped around her forearm, pulling her closer to him. A hug; one that was unlike the others. Her face crushed against his chest while his arms circled her shoulders.

Dean consumed her; his warmth radiating from his skin and the mixture of sandalwood and whiskey on his plaid shirt. A soft sigh escaped her lips, she relished the moment for as long as she could before the tears began to prick at her eyes.

“I can’t lose you, Y/N,” Dean muttered into her hair and pressed a kiss to her forehead, his voice cracking. It was unlike anything she’d heard before. “You’re more than a friend to me.”

Y/N pulled away, “but you don’t love me.”

She left, ignoring the pain in Dean’s eyes and the call of her name. She climbed into the truck and pulled away from the parking lot without a second glance.

If Y/N had looked in the rearview mirror when she left, she would have seen Sam holding onto Dean as he thrashed to be released. All he wanted to do was jump into Baby and follow Y/N, demand that she stay. Bring her back to them. To him.

Because he did love her. He just didn’t realise how much until she left.

Emptiness. An endless echo in his heart. Beating, but aching deeply. His lungs pulled taut in his chest. A silent scream in his head, all-consuming pain in his thoughts. Adrenaline pumped erratically through his veins. He dragged Y/N away from the horror in the alleyway behind him.

Dean collapsed beside her unconscious body, one hand placed pressure on the wound at her stomach, a feeble attempt to stop the blood pouring out and saturating the concrete sidewalk. His other fingers fumbled to feel a pulse against Y/N’s wrist, her blood-stained neck. 

Her blood matted hair was pushed away from her face. Dean pulled Y/N closer and willed her to wake. He screamed out her name while his blurred vision found his brother, who frantically dialled 911.

He couldn’t lose her. Not now.

Y/N finally dared to listen to the hundreds of voicemails that Dean had left. She did the right thing in ignoring them, or so she thought. At first, she felt better to keep herself at a distance but then came the itch to check in with Sam now and then. 

She needed to let him know how she was and where she’d been, to hear where the Winchesters were headed next. To hear a little bit of how Dean was doing. Y/N knew that his brother wouldn’t keep quiet about the calls and inevitably a few days later a notification would appear to indicate she had a new voicemail.

Most of them were mumbled words or cut off seconds into the message. The others, well, they stirred the hurt and pain in her already broken heart.

‘Fucksake Y/N. I wish you’d stayed.’

‘I can’t sleep at night, knowing you’re out there on your own. Not that you can’t handle yourself. Ah, fuck.’

‘Why do you talk to Sam and not me? What did I do?’

‘Y/N - hiccup- please. I need you - hiccup - come home.’

‘I miss you. I miss you deep down in my bones.’

‘I need to tell you something. Please meet me - us. Sam can be there too if you feel uncomfortable.’

Tears cascaded down Y/N’s face as she processed every message.

She went through her plan of what she was going to say a thousand times. Over and over in her head like a record stuck on repeat. She didn’t decide until she was one hundred percent certain about the next step. The step that involved calling Sam to meet them at a local dive bar.

Y/N awoke to the smell of bleach and beeps of machines, the slumped Winchesters in the too-small plastic chairs at the bedside. Tears pricked at her eyes as she took in their worn-out states; unwashed hair and dark circles tarnishing the skin beneath their eyes. They looked worse than when they were trying to save the world.

Images of what happened flashed through Y/N’s mind; Sam researching a case, her, and Dean at a dive bar. Dean with some beautiful woman in sexy tight-fitting clothes. Of course. Y/N fleeing to the street in tears. Knowing he’d never change, that she would never be enough.

She hadn’t seen the hooded man lurking in the alleyway, not until he dragged her down it and plunged the knife -  

A scream rushed through her lips, unable to cope with the memories that reeled like a film but now stuck in a loop of cold blue eyes full of anger and hate. Dean’s hands were on Y/N’s arm to help calm her but she flinched and shuffled up the bed, unable to process the lack of danger. 

Her chest heaved with panic, eyes wide as Dean crouched low with his hands high to show that he meant no harm. Y/N’s eyes flicked to Sam as he remained seated, hands held in a similar stance.

In an instant, she was surrounded by doctors and nurses, her lungs felt like they were being filled with cement, her throat grew hoarse from the attempts to scream for her escape. A pair of strong hands, undeniably Dean’s, held her down while a white coat pulled a mask over her face. 

A sense of calm washed over Y/N, each heave of breath becoming easier, eyelids flickering closed as the Winchesters watched on in fear for one of their own.

When Dean awoke to his phone vibrating in his pocket, he looked immediately over to the bed. Y/N wasn’t there or anywhere to be found in the hospital. ‘Discharged herself’, a nurse told him. His phone vibrated a second time, a reminder of the message that was left unread. 

Y/N: I’m sorry. I didn't have it in myself to go with grace.

He’d lost her again.

Everything Tag List: @reann-loves-sebstan / @aroyaldarknessblr / @thefridgeismybestie / @kitkatd7 / @harold321

Supernatural Tag List: @deanwanddamons / @akshi8278​

[mourntheantagonist]

Dream a Little Dream of Me

Chapter 2

read on ao3

Hopper was startled awake by two small hands tightly gripping his shoulders and the familiar chant of his teenage daughter's voice. Her words were frantic, falling out of her mouth with vibrato and an airy tone, and in his initial half-sleep he didn’t quite register what she had said until her voice had raised to a volume that, despite the distance, could be heard all the way from the center of town. 

“There’s something wrong!” She was screaming at him. Her nose was dripping with blood and her eyes were dripping with tears. She was shaking and scared and all Hopper could think to do was to take both of her hands and hold them tight.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, as calmly as possible, his voice low and quiet, opposite of El’s own.

“Something’s wrong with Billy!” she tried to scream it, but all that came out was a choked whisper at the emission of his name. Her fists tightened in Hopper’s grip and as soon as the name ‘Billy’ fully registered in his head, he suddenly had his guard up. He had to be wary after everything El had told him she’d seen when Billy had let her into his mind, and especially after getting a glimpse of all of it for himself the moment Neil Hargrove seemed entirely unconcerned over the state of his child when Hopper had taken it upon himself to inform the family. He figured it would be easier to hear from father to father, but when the first question that left his lips was “how much is this going to cost me?” he started to doubt the man he was talking to was even a father at all.

“I told you to stay out of his head El. That’s–” invasive is what he wanted to say, but El was quick to cut him off by tearing her hands out from his grip and charging toward the front door.

“We have to go to the hospital. Right now.”

She had that serious look on her face. The one she got when she was seconds away from throwing whoever was bothering her directly through a brick wall. She got the tears to stop rolling and wiped away the blood with her sleeve, something Hopper had to constantly remind her not to do because he could never get the stains out. It was late, the moon and the stars were already so visible in the sky above them serving as their only form of illumination in the dark woods aside from the one pathetic light bulb that hung above the awning on the porch. The clock read almost midnight. Hopper was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to crawl back into his recliner and fall asleep, but El was determined, and if there was really something wrong with Billy, he didn’t have the time to waste.

Hopper grabbed his hat and coat off the hook and followed El out to the Blazer where she was already sitting in the passenger seat, waiting. Her eyes were fixed forward and it was scarily opposite to what she had looked like just moments ago, full of panic and fear that showed itself through tears and screams, now manifesting itself in a dead expression looking out at the dark forest through the dirty windshield. All he could do was get in the driver’s seat, turn the key in the ignition, and do what she told him to do.

The trip from Hawkins to Fort Wayne wasn’t short, and yet, they didn’t talk to each other the whole way. Hopper tried, tried to ask her what she saw but every time he did, her eyes would squeeze shut like she was in pain. 

Because every time he asked, she was suddenly transported back there. 

She’d been checking up on Billy for months now, ever since the early morning hours of July 5th when Max had begged her to tell her what was happening while they were huddled together in the back of an ambulance and not a single EMT or paramedic on site could tell them where or how he was. But there was something different about looking for Billy in the void compared to how it worked with everyone else. Usually, she’d be able to see just the physical. She would be able to see the people around them and hear the words that they said, but with Billy she didn’t see that. She didn’t see his torn up body laid out on a stretcher surrounded by doctors and nurses trying to bring him back to life like she would have expected, or hoped for at least. Instead, all she saw was Billy curled up in his own bed at home, the blue plaid sheets and the stained pillowcases that he let his head sink into, asleep. She couldn’t see him physically, she could only see into his mind and into his dreams.

And all he ever dreamed about was sleeping in his own bed at home.

It was the exact same every time. No matter how close or far she would get to him, no matter the words she’d say and no matter how loud she would say them, he wouldn’t even so much as stir. He was always motionless with steady and even breathing, and she would have thought it to be peaceful if she hadn’t been able to feel everything he was feeling when she was in there. 

Not the pain of being poked and prodded by the doctors who saw him as their little upside down experiment, but the pain of sadness and loneliness that seemed to just be a constant in his life within his own mind. It was way too much for any single person to handle, even if she hadn’t had an inkling to what exactly the cause was. She could never stay in there for too long. The feelings were just too powerful.

It was always the same, until the day that it wasn’t. Everything seemed to be going accordingly, he was in his bed, asleep, just like he always was, but the silence started to fade. Slowly she started to hear voices of different screams enter her ears from far away, growing closer and closer to her and to Billy. Suddenly the boy she never saw move was writhing in his bed. The screams grew closer and closer and louder and louder until they pierced her ears and she covered them with her hands and dropped to her knees. Billy’s own screams were added to the chorus and the dark black void faded quickly to a blinding white that forced her eyes shut like the flash of a camera.

And like the flip of a switch, the literal blink of an eye, the voices stopped and it was all back to black. But when she looked up there was nothing. No bed, no Billy. Nothing.

And her first thought, the thought that rattled in her brain the whole trip from Hawkins to Fort Wayne, the reason she was so adamant that they leave for the hospital right away…

Was that he was dead.

She couldn’t reach him or feel him anymore, and it was the only thing that made any sense.

Hopper called up Dr. Owens through his car phone and explained the situation the best he could, with the limited information he could get out of El who wouldn’t respond to a single word he said with anything but “drive”. All he really had to go off of was that El had seen something and insisted that Billy needed help, that Billy needed their help, and Owens, being ever so intrigued with Eleven and her mysterious capabilities, wasn't going to turn her away.

They pulled into the parking lot and began working their way through each layer of the hospital, from the initial check in desk to the upstairs wing where emergent cases were being wheeled in on stretchers and moved behind closed curtains. They had to go deeper than the ICU where a case like Billy’s would typically be located, but his case was anything but typical. Billy was in the deepest depths of the hospital that only select personnel had access to where lab technicians were having a field day treating Billy Hargrove who had Mindflayer DNA coursing through his veins. Their little science experiment. There was always difficulty getting permission to go back there as many of the nurses weren’t even given clearance so surely the sheriff from two towns over was out of jurisdiction.

But they eventually got their way through the barricaded entrance, with Hopper constantly having to squeeze El’s hand to remind her that no, she couldn’t just force open the glass doors no matter how much she wanted to or how much the nurse behind the counter aggravated her.

The hospital wing Billy was in looked like it was straight out of a horror film. There were no nurses or doctors rushing from room to room, the lights were dim and it was mostly silent save for the squeaking of their soles against the linoleum floor. It looked very abandoned and lonely and straight up depressing, all doom and gloom where the first impression was that whoever was wheeled into any of these rooms, likely wouldn’t be coming out breathing. Instead of being wheeled out in a wheelchair into the parking lot for a grand return home, they’d be wheeled out on a gurney with a white sheet covering their body headed straight for the morgue where Owens’ little lab rats would likely continue their experiments on the dead corpse. El had been quick to release herself from Hopper’s grip and locate the room on her own, storming down the halls with a determination he hadn’t seen from her in a while. He had to do a little jog to keep up with her, hearing his keys jingle from where they hung on his belt loop with every step that he took. El had stormed past everybody and went straight in for Billy, taking him by the hand and tightly shutting her eyes. She didn’t even take a second to notice the two people who were already in the room before her, Max and Steve, asking frantically what was going on because El didn’t even say a thing, and Hopper didn’t have a clue either.

Steve was standing against the doorframe and Max was sitting in the chair looking like she had just been woken up. The two of them looked to have the same confusion plastered on their faces that Hopper had, all three of them looking toward El who stood at Billy’s bedside silently with focus as her face turned red.

“I can’t reach him.” She said once she’d opened her eyes, releasing her hold from Billy’s hand and focusing all of her attention on the heart monitor in the room that maintained a steady rhythm with the crests and troughs indicative of life.

“Can someone here explain to me what is going on?” Steve asked, his arms crossed over his chest. He was looking to Hopper who just gestured to El as if that was answer enough. 

“Something is wrong with Billy.” 

“Billy’s fine El, what are you talking about?” Max chimed in after releasing an exhausted yawn. 

El just repeated herself, turned toward Max and staring her directly in the eyes. “Something is wrong with Billy.”

“What is wrong with Billy, El?” Max asked, and Steve and Hopper just watched the scene take place before them like they were watching a movie, waiting for the plot to thicken.

“He’s gone.”

“No, he’s still alive.” Max protested.

“Not dead. Gone.” El said, “He’s somewhere else, on the inside.”

Before anyone could question her further, Dr. Owens had entered the room. “Is there a problem?” he asked, and everyone's attention had turned toward him where he stood in between Steve and Hopper. 

El didn’t respond, and instead let Hopper speak for her. “We aren’t sure, but Eleven thinks something may have happened with the kid.”

“Why don’t the two of you come into my office and explain it to me? We have been monitoring him closely and haven’t seen any significant changes.” Dr. Owens suggested, leading the two of them out of the room. “You two keep him company, I know it doesn’t feel like it now, but he knows you’re here.” he said, looking at Steve and Max before he closed the door behind him.

- : -

“So he just… vanished?” Dr. Owens asked, his hands were clasped together in front of him on his desk and he was looking to Eleven inquisitively, while she was slumped forward in the chair, her eyes shut tightly just like before, like she was in pain.

“Yes,” she said, “and there were... screams.”

“Whose screams?”

“Billy’s, and others,” she said, her voice trailing off into nearly a whisper, “there were so many. It was so loud.” El choked on tears with that last sentence, and Hopper pulled her into his side. She covered her own ears like she was hearing it all over again. The screams of countless people were echoing in her mind. She just sobbed into Hopper’s jacket.

“Are you sure this wasn’t just a bad dream?” Owens asked. “Nothing has changed with him physically to suggest something is wrong.”

El’s head snapped toward him and her tear filled eyes filled with rage. “I know what I saw,” she said, her face scrunched and eyebrows turned down, “and I can’t reach him anymore.”

Dr. Owens leaned back in his chair almost as if he was trying to distance himself from El. He knew how she could make brain smoothies with just the use of her mind alone, and he didn’t like the idea of being on the receiving end of that. “Okay,” he said, “we’ll run some tests, but I’m not sure how much it will help.”

“Just do what you can Doc,” Hopper chimed in, “for our peace of mind, please.”

“I’ll go order an EEG and an MRI. How ‘bout you two go join the other two, maybe see if you can’t reach him this time.”

Hopper took El by the hand and led her out of the room. She didn’t seem too satisfied with what Owens had to offer, but she was definitely less enraged than she could have been. They walked back down the same empty corridor they just walked through, dim lighting and all, and found Max pacing around the small square room, visible relief on her face as soon as El walked back through the door.

“What the hell is going on?!” Max asked, walking right up to El and putting her hands on her shoulders, getting right up into her face. “You can’t just say something like that without an explanation!” El was just looking back at her with wide eyes, still red and glossy from earlier. “El, tell me that Billy is okay?”

“I-“ she wanted to. She wanted to tell Max that everything would be okay just like she did with her on that mall floor, holding her as she cried right next to Billy’s lifeless body, drenched in blood. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t look Max in the eyes and tell her that he was okay when everything inside of her was telling her that something was seriously wrong. “I don’t know. I don’t know.” She shook and bowed her head.

That made Max take a step backwards, releasing her grip on El’s shoulder and stumbling into the foot of the hospital bed.

“You said you couldn’t see him, could you try again?” Steve asked, pulling a distraught Max who refused to cry into his side, “Just in case?”

El nodded and walked up to his bedside and pulled her blindfold out of her pocket. Hopper followed suit and turned the radio on the side table to a vacant frequency. She sat on the floor, her legs crossed.

She took a deep breath, and focused.

It was almost instant that she found herself back in the void, but it was still completely empty. She walked around aimlessly, her feet splashing in the water with each step she took, calling out his name only to hear her own voice echo back to her.

“Billy?” No response.

“Can you see anything?” It was Max’s voice breaking through, joining the continued echoes.

“Not yet.”

El went in deeper, and her stomach grew more and more tense with each step she took, and her breathing became more and more shallow, but still, nothing. Just pitch black like before.

But she kept going. She continued to move forward despite the uneasy feeling that washed over her.

Then a chill traveled straight down her spine as she heard the faintest little voice enter through her ears, a voice she couldn’t attribute to any of the people that were in the room with her, but also, unmistakably not Billy’s voice either.

“I hear a voice.”

“Is it Billy’s?” Max asked. 

“No it’s…”

It was high pitched, sounded like a giggle. A girl. A young girl.

“It sounds like a young girl.”

El tried to tune out everyone’s follow up questions and focused every bit of her attention on that faint little voice that was slowly growing louder and more audible. She could almost make out the words that were in between the frantic fits of laughter.

“... Daddy!...” The word was as clear as day.

And then there was another voice. Another set of laughter that joined the little girl. A low voice, slightly gruff and heavy.

“Billy.” She said it aloud, to where everyone in the room could hear the moment she realized. But as soon as she said his name, the laughter stopped. Suddenly. 

It was replaced by the screams. 

She was suddenly propelled backwards, like the strongest gust of wind hit her dead on and sent her directly out of the void. She ripped off the blindfold immediately and collapsed into Max’s arms, hands up to her ears, knees to her chest, sobbing, trying to get the sounds of the screams to exit her head.

“What happened?” Max asked, stroking her fingers through Eleven’s hair as she sobbed into her chest, just like she’d done for her, ignoring the blood from El's nose as it transferred onto her shirt.

“I could hear him.” She said through choked sobs. “I could hear Billy.”

Max held onto Eleven tighter. Hopper and Steve were both just watching the scene happen on the floor, their backs against  the walls behind them holding the bulk of their respective weights, unsure of whether or not they should intervene, or dare say anything. They didn’t want to drill her with all of the questions they had bouncing around inside their heads while the person with all of the answers was a wreck on the floor. So they stayed silent, let Max be the one to hold her while she choked back her own tears, and waited for it all to go away and calm down.

She didn’t have that chance before Dr. Owens  walked in alongside another man in a long white lab coat, wheeling in a cart with a large machine on it, a machine El recognized very well.

“Did something happen Eleven?” Dr. Owens asked the girl with the tear stains running down her cheeks. She just nodded her head, still unable to properly vocalize or describe exactly what happened or what she heard. Dr. Owens noted her hesitation to speak and the looks being given to him from the other eyes in the room and decided to drop it, to not press any further. “We’re going to run an EEG to see if there’s any abnormal brain activity, just to make sure Billy’s definitely still in there.”

The man in the lab coat made his way over to Billy’s bedside opposite of the rest of them and began marking points of Billy’s scalp with what looked similar to a blue colored pencil. El had to look away, immediately reminded of the day they strapped her down in a chair and took clippers to her head, Brenner in her ear telling her “this will make everything much easier for everyone.”

They attached the nodes all around his head, and the room was at a dead silence as they waited for it to be over, holding their collective breaths like they were trying to conserve oxygen in the room. Oxygen they might need later. El finally got up from her place on the ground and leaned on Hopper, back facing Billy. Max remained on the floor, her hand reaching up and holding onto Billy’s. His hand was cold, but warm enough that she could tell the blood was still coursing through his veins, without the regular beeping of the heart monitor. Steve stood awkwardly in the corner, feeling out of place. He gripped his own hands behind his back and rolled on his feet, the only one out of the four of them that continued to look at Billy as the contraption was placed on his head. He stared at him almost intently, looking for any sudden movement, a twitch of his feet, a lifted finger, a flared nostril, just something.

But he got nothing. Billy was totally, and completely still.

“Uh. Dr. Owens?” The man in the lab coat said, looking down at the machine on the cart, his eyebrows furrowed, giving cause for concern. “Can you come look at this?”

“Is something wrong?” Hopper asked, his voice loud and his eyes wide like saucers. He was physically leaning forward, trying to see what they were seeing.

Dr. Owens didn’t answer, he just hesitantly joined the lab technician behind the machine to get a better look, offering the group of four a hesitant look of reassurance, that wasn’t very reassuring. He pulled his glasses from where they were hooked on the collar of his shirt up to his face.

“It’s just…”

“Scribbles?” the guy in the lab coat finished. Dr. Owens held the scan up to the light, like he didn’t know what he was looking at. Because he didn’t. He had absolutely no idea what he was looking at.

“What does that mean?” Max asked, her voice almost accusatory.

“There must be a problem with the machine. We’ll try again with a different one.” Dr. Owens looked to the lab technician and without him having to say a word, the man left to fetch another machine. Dr. Owens set the scan down on the bedside table and began removing the nodes from Billy’s head. Dr. Owens was trying to hide the look of confusion from his face, trying to keep everyone else in the room calm, but the girl with the fiery red hair and even more fiery personality couldn’t be calmed down. 

Max continued to press with questions, alongside Hopper, but he had a little more tact in the way he asked for answers. But the two of them kept receiving the same exact response as they all waited for the lab tech to return with a second EEG machine. “We’ll know more when we get an accurate test.” Steve, on the other hand, remained silent and ignored the two who were begging for answers and receiving none. Instead, he walked over to the other side of the bed and stole the scan from on top of the table. Dr. Owens made no attempts to stop him. He just said “it’s only scribbles kid. It’s inconclusive.” but Steve ignored him, and walked back over to where he was initially standing and studied the scan, just like he studied Billy as he lay in that hospital bed. Lifeless. Completely, totally, still.

Dr. Owens just wrote it off and continued removing the nodes from Billy’s head, wracking his brain over how the hell the machine could malfunction like that. Max and Hopper continued to press with questions, and continued to get upset when they didn’t receive any answers, El continued to not look at Billy with all of the attachments to his head, and Steve continued to study the scan, drowning out every bit of background noise, looking at every mark that was made on the paper, like he knew something that everyone else didn’t.

The man in the lab coat came back shortly after with another machine, and everyone in the room was quick to shut up to hopefully speed the process along. They stood and watched as they did it all over again, and El continued to refuse to turn around, and Hopper rubbed circles into her back, waiting for the good news he thought that he had been promised.

“It’s doing it again, sir.” the lab technician said, his voice was frantic, and that was what finally got El to turn around. Everyone was crowding the bed to see exactly what was going on. The pen was going haywire, and Dr. Owens immediately shut off the machine. “Are you doing this little girl!?”

El shook her head

“What the hell is going on Doc!?” Hopper was done being polite. He grabbed him by the fabric of his sleeve and pulled him in close. “What the hell is going on!?” He yelled.

“I… don’t know.”

“Does this mean he’s gone?” Max asked, finally allowing a tear to escape, rolling down her cheek as she choked on her own breath. 

“No.” El answered. “He’s still here.” She was so sure, pushing past everyone and holding onto Billy’s hand. “I could hear him.”

In all of the chaos, nobody could hear Steve mumbling in the background. Nobody saw as his mouth hung open while he stared at the first scan in his hands. They didn’t hear him until his voice grew louder, and Max managed to pick out one of the words he said that made her head jerk towards him.

“What did you say?” She asked Steve, more tears streaming down her face. Everyone else in the room followed her step and now everyone was looking at Steve, who looked like he was in complete shock.

Steve looked up to her with his eyes wide.

“It’s Max.” he said, “it’s you.”

“What are you talking about son?” Hopper asked, inching closer to Steve.

Steve just turned the scan around and held it up for everyone to see, and traced his finger in a circle on the image. “It’s Max. It’s a picture of Max.”

Suddenly nobody was crowding the bed anymore and instead crowding Steve, including Dr. Owens and his lab tech, all craning their necks to try to see past the scribbles.

“I don’t see anything kid-“ 

“Wait!” Max shouted, cutting off the lab tech who spoke in a tired tone, “I see it! Right there!” She placed her finger on the scan. “See, that’s my nose, my mouth… that’s me…”

“I’m calling the others.” Hopper said, “this is fucked up.” Hopper made an attempt to leave the room and go to a phone but he was stopped by Dr. Owens pressing a hand to his chest. “Get out of my way this could be-“

“The Upside Down, I know. If that even is the case, the less people know, the better.”

Suddenly chaos had broken out again between everyone arguing with each other about involving the others, and Eleven and Max just trying to shut everyone up, only making it louder.

But that was immediately halted by the sound of the radio in the corner turning on, and music began playing, but nobody was near it to even touch it.

“Who did that?” Dr. Owens asked, and everyone raised their arms in the air at once, signaling innocence. 

The song was staticky, but they could still make out the words to a familiar song, and everyone’s stomach dropped when they looked over to where Billy was lying on the hospital bed, just a single tear rolling down his face as the song eerily played in everyone’s ears.

Say "Night-ie night" and kiss me 

Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me 

While I'm alone and blue as can be 

Dream a little dream of me

[tloujm]

Part XI: Are We OK?

Author’s Notes: As mentioned in the first paragraph, this takes place a month after the last chapter. Speaking of the last chapter, this one was kind of difficult for me to write as well. Trying to tap into that vulnerable, emotional Joel, when we really didn’t see that until TLOU 2, wasn’t as easy as I thought. And Naughty Dog barely gave us that side of him before they killed him off so...I’m down for straying away from canon, but I wish there was more Joel material to go off of. Maybe if we cry loud enough, Naughty Dog will hear us and we’ll get a DLC with more flashbacks in like 7 years. I already got it planned out, the next chapter will have a new genre, HORROR, just in time for Halloween, then I’ll get back to the smoother-you-with-romance Joel x Reader. 

Genre: An order of Joel Miller, heavy on the angst, with a side of fluff, hold the smut.

Summary: You and Joel find out if the two of you are expecting. Jackson is introduced to a strange newcomer

Ship: Joel x Reader

A month and some change had gone by which meant that you were late. Life had gotten particularly busy, so you didn’t notice how fast time was flying, but Joel did. He knew you were late, but he wanted to see if you would bring it up first. 

“How you feelin’?” Joel asked, gently nudging your shoulder as the two of you walked together.

“I’m fine.” You answered. It was your default answer, but after realizing that he was still looking at you, reading your face, you understood what he meant. Throughout the month he would dote on you a little extra to make sure you weren’t feeling faint or nauseous. “I really am fine, Joel. I haven’t gotten my period yet, though.”

“Ok.” He said as he breathed out. He looked forward with those doe eyes.

“That doesn’t mean anything yet. My periods were never really consistent in the first place. Let’s just wait a little longer and see.” What you said was true, but you also weren’t sure if you were ready to admit to yourself the possibility of having a life inside you. 

Joel took your hand in his and gave it a squeeze. “Ok.”

One day while out on patrol, Joel convinced his group to make a detour and check out a small plaza. It had a boutique, veterinary office, post office and, most importantly, a pharmacy. While the others started at the boutique to find new clothes, Joel snuck off to get a head start at the pharmacy. He secured the location before pacing up and down the aisles. His eyes bounced around the shelves as his hands randomly skimmed the items on them. They have to be here, he thought. It's not like they were in high demand during a pandemic. Soon enough, he’d found what he was looking for and stuffed his bag with a few boxes just as the group was catching up with him. Joel explained away his departure with ease and joined in scavenging for medical goods. 

As soon as they’d passed through Jackson’s gates, Joel bee lined it to your house. He let himself in as he usually did and called out your name. He wasn’t sure if you were home but he was too anxious to try and track you down. Luckily, your footsteps were heard from the other room. He waited as patiently as he could for you to meet him in the living room. 

“You’re back!” You exclaimed. “What happened out there? I thought you were going to be back in time for lunch.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry. We stopped at some small plaza. It was off-map.”

“I hope you guys found some good stuff.” You commented while throwing on your jacket.

“Yeah, we did.” He quickly replied before furrowing his brows. “You going somewhere?”

You nodded. “I was gonna go help Wendy out again today. You can come too, but It’s ok if you’re too tired. I know you just got back.”

“(Y/N),” He began, leaving your name to hang in the air with suspense. He slid his backpack off of his shoulders and dug around for the contents that he found at the pharmacy. 

“What’s wrong?” You noticed the strange look on Joel’s face. Mind racing, you grew afraid of what he was going to pull out. You watched as he placed three narrow boxes on your coffee table. You took a step closer to inspect them.

“There was a pharmacy there, so I figured why wait and see when we can know now.” His voice was as casual as ever, but he gazed at you with those pleading, doe eyes that you were still growing used to. Your own eyes bounced between him and the items on the table. You read the single word on the face of the boxes with its pretty, pink font, “Pregnancy”. By the picture of the stick, you already knew what it was, but the “P” word was unavoidable. 

“Joel,” You started softly. “I started my period. I didn’t notice until after you left this morning for patrol.”

“Oh.” He looked between the tests and your shoes, avoiding eye contact.

“It probably just came late because of stress; you know living in this world ain’t a piece of cake.” You awkwardly chuckled to lighten the mood. “A cycle could be thrown off because of a change in diet. Different foods affect hormone balances. Or...or...um...when women spend time around each other, their cycles link up. I know it sounds weird, but it’s true because...um science.” You ramble on, trying to fill the silence.

He stopped you before you could speak again. “It’s ok, (Y/N). Guess we don’t need these.” He picked one of the tests up and inspected it before throwing it back in his bag. 

Joel focused on his actions after you told him the news. He didn’t want to seem disappointed. He’d be lying to himself if he said that he wasn’t, though. It was probably for the best, he thought to himself. He couldn’t imagine outliving another child or losing his love during childbirth. He scoffed at his own thoughts as he wished that storks delivering babies on doorsteps were a real thing. Maybe the two of you could share a pet. Joel made a note to put effort in befriending a stray cat or dog the next time he came across one.

You were more worried about Joel’s feelings than your own when you saw the dark red stains on your panties that morning. Neither one of you were explicitly against having a baby together, but you were afraid that he would get too comfortable with the idea of you actually being pregnant. You offered to stay in with him, but he declined and insisted that you go. He left out the door behind you and walked silently by your side until it was time for him to turn down his street. His eyes were focused on his front door, wanting nothing more than to walk through it and sink into the couch. Suddenly, he heard a voice speak up on the walkie-talkie. He had forgotten to put it back after patrol because he was so anxious to see you. The voice belonged to Dean, a watchtower guard and he sounded frantic as he called for help at the gate. Always having a radio on him, Joel knew that Tommy would have heard the message as well. Joel quickly turned on his heels and jogged up to the main gate of Jackson just in time to meet the other people who heard. Dean explained from the tower that there was a little girl on the other side of the gate covered in blood. She was unresponsive when he questioned her. Dean didn’t know whether she was the bait in an ambush or just a lost little girl who needed help. Maria made the decision to open the gates. She stepped through first, followed by an armed Tommy and Joel. The two brothers kept their eyes peeled for signs of anything suspicious in the distance. Maria approached the child and tried to talk to her herself. She appeared to be in a catatonic state. Maria deduced that she had just experienced something extremely traumatic. Joel watched as Jackson’s leader gently reached out to check her body for any wounds, having been unsure if the blood was hers or not. The girl only looked past her, but didn’t flinch when touched. Joel holstered his gun before taking off his jacket to wrap it around her. Maria mouthed a thank you in his direction before ushering her into the settlement. 

Joel and Tommy decided to stay with Dean at the watchtower as a precaution just in case anyone was following her. Maria immediately walked the girl to the daycare center. She wanted to try again, but if there was anyone who could connect with a child, it was Wendy. 

You were bringing snacks into the play room for the kids when you heard faint voices coming from Wendy’s office. You slowed down as you passed in front of the cracked door. You recognized Maria’s voice. Wendy’s tone was soft and gentle which made you assume that a child was in there as well. What would Maria want with one of the kids? Did one of them get in trouble? You finished handing out the snacks when Maria entered the playroom.

“(Y/N).” Maria called out from the corner of the room. She gestured with her head for you to meet her. “We got a newcomer in today.” She began to slowly shake her head. “I don’t know what to make of her. She won’t talk to anybody. Wendy is in there currently trying. You’re trained in first aid right?” She asked.

“Yeah, but it’s not like I’m a nurse or anything.”

“Our only doctors are operating right now. You’re all we got.” She looked at you with pleading eyes. “I did a once over on her before bringing her in, but I’d appreciate it if you could look her over and make sure she’s alright.”

You looked back at the kids peacefully eating. “Let me get one of the older kids to look after them and I’ll go back there with you.” Maria nodded before watching you go outside to pull one of the big kids off the playground. 

“This way.” Maria guided you back towards Wendy’s office. You grabbed the basket full of uneaten snacks since the office was on its way to the kitchen.

“I’m assuming she’s a child.” You stated to which Maria nodded. “She showed up by herself?”

“As far as we can tell. Joel and Tommy are currently on lookout to see if she was followed. Dean said he found her approaching the gate covered in blood.”

“Jesus.” You exclaimed in a whisper. “When was this?”

“I just brought her over here from the gate.” Maria said before opening the office door for you.

Wendy was crouched down in front of the little girl, speaking to her in her softest tone. She remained standing after ignoring the older woman’s offer of a chair. Wendy turned to the two of you when she heard the door open. She seemed at a loss after making no more progress than she did when Maria left. You recognized the jacket wrapped around the child’s small frame and you expressed a tiny smile at the thought of Joel’s generosity. His clean, warm jacket was a stark contrast to the blood and grime covering her body. You walked up to her and sat the basket of food down at her feet. Silently, you picked up half of a grilled cheese and held it out for her to take. For a few moments, she did nothing but stand there. Her eyes were glued to some object past your head. Finally, she glanced down at the still warm sandwich in your hand and weakly reached out for it. She brought it up to her mouth and took a little, mousy bite. To help support the sandwich, she brought up her other hand to hold it, revealing that she was missing the last two fingers on that hand. You could tell by the redness that they were severed fairly recently. You would need to take a closer look, but it didn’t seem infected so far. You watched her for a moment before stepping back, giving her space to eat in peace. When she finished, she wiped the crumbs with the back of her hand and reverted back to her prior stance. Tenderly, you removed the jacket and circled around her to get a better look at her body. She was really skinny; probably nearing malnutrition. It made it difficult for you to estimate an age. Especially during developmental years, the lack of proper nutrients could stunt the growth of a child. Seeing how docile she was with the others, you confidently picked her up and sat her on a table that brought her to your height. There you took off her exterior layers to get a better look at her skin for wounds. Like Maria, you guessed that she had been traumatized. Seeing a child that you could only assume was born after the outbreak be put through so much was heartbreaking. After a more thorough check, you determined that none of the blood was hers. You were relieved to see that, but at the same time wondered what situation she had to have been in to get all of that on her. 

“You’re ok. You’re in a safe place, now.” You finally spoke to the girl. She made eye contact, but did not verbally acknowledge your words. “How would you like to get in a nice, warm bath and relax? I’m sure you came a long way to find yourself here. We can make you more grilled cheeses to eat when you get out.” You pleaded. Again, she was silent, but as if on cue, her stomach growled loud enough for everyone to hear. As if embarrassed, she looked down at her feet.

“I’ll get right on those grilled cheeses.” Wendy said, leaving her office. You took the girl’s hand and led her out as well. Maria followed you two to one of the bathrooms. You sat the girl on the toilet seat before Maria beckoned you to meet her at the doorway.

“I’m going to go check on the boys at the gate if you’re ok here.”

“Yeah, me and Wendy will be fine.” You glanced back at the little girl. To your surprise, she was watching you.

“Okay, good. Let me know if you need anything.” Maria said before stepping out.

The girl watched as you ran the water into the tub. Bubbles formed and steam floated off the surface of the water. It was enticing, even for you, especially since it was still winter. You helped her out of the rest of her clothes and walked her into the tub. You watched her face flinch as she adjusted to the temperature. 

For the next half an hour, you gave her a sponge bath and washed her hair. She was good as new by the time you were done with her. Before you brought her back into the office, you cleaned and bandaged the stubs on her left hand. Wendy brought the grilled cheese and tomato soup in so the girl could eat in peace. 

“It would be so much easier if we just knew what to call her.” Wendy spoke in an almost whisper as the two of you sat in the office with her. 

“Yeah.” You sighed. “It’s getting late and she’s probably tired.”

“Oh, I bet she is. She probably walked very far to get here. I’ll take her home with me tonight. We have that extra bedroom now and I think she’ll get along nicely with Kevin and Marnie. They’re about her age.” Wendy spoke about her adopted children. “Maybe she’ll feel more comfortable with someone her own age and open up with them.”

“Yeah?” You genuinely questioned.

“Worth a try.” Wendy shrugged, not knowing what else to do. “She just needs some time is all. She’ll see we’re good people soon enough and she’ll be playin’ with the rest of ‘em.”

You took her plate when she was done and checked on the rest of the kids before calling it a night. Your feet were accustomed to the path that took you to your house, but you really wanted to see Joel. Walking up the driveway, you noticed that all of the lights in the house were off. Still, you entered the house and called his name. You followed his voice and orange glow to the living room where he was sitting by the fire. You sat next to him on the floor and leaned your head on his shoulder. It was a cozy feeling. 

“I heard you were in the watchtower today.” You began.

He exhaled. “Yeah, me and Tommy and Dean. So you know about the girl?”

“I fed and bathed her. Maria brought her over to the daycare so I could take a look at her.”

“How was she, nurse (Y/L/N)?” He playfully asked.

“None of the blood was hers. No cuts. There were some bruises though. I hope she feels better now that she’s all cleaned up.” He grunted in approval before falling silent. “Are we okay?” You spoke up.

“’Course we are. Where is this coming from?” Joel asked.

“Well, when I told you I wasn’t pregnant---”

“It’s ok, (Y/N). I meant it when I said it wouldn’t change anything. I love you.”

You smiled. “I love you too and listen, I would be honored to have you as my baby daddy,” He chuckled. “But I don’t think I’m ready now. Are you?”

He gently nodded for a moment. “I think so, yeah.”

“You think you could wait for me? ‘Til I’m ready?”

“This is something I want only with you, so I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Oh is that so?” You teased. “I’ll be sure to remember that.

“Bet you will.”

[sanderssidesfanfiction]

If There’s a Place I Could Be - Chapter Ninety Two

If There’s a Place I Could Be Tag

September 1st, 2002

Theo was laughing with Emile, talking about his girlfriend, and his girlfriend’s boyfriend, and how they were trying to figure out living arrangements for that whole situation. “That’s crazy, Theo,” Emile said, shaking his head. “I never pinned you as bisexual, let alone polyamorous.”

“Hey, some people are full of surprises!” Theo said. “I’m just glad you’re cool with it.”

“I mean, listen. It’s not for me personally, but if other people enjoy it, who am I to stop them?” Emile asked.

Theo nodded. “It just kinda sucks that I can only marry one of my partners, and that’s if she’s a she,” he said. “Only get tax benefits from one person.”

“Also only get to visit one person in the hospital, one person’s bank account, one person’s credit score...” Emile continued.

“I know,” Theo groaned. “Being flippant is my way to cope, Emile, don’t be a dick and bring up the worst-case scenarios.”

“Sorry,” Emile said sheepishly.

“‘S all good,” Theo said, and conversation moved on.

  October 30th, 2003

“I know it’s not Wicked, but it was still a good show, wasn’t it?” Emile asked as the crowd got to its feet in the theatre.

“Huh?” Remy asked.

Emile rolled his eyes affectionately. “The Broadway musical? Its opening night was tonight. I know this isn’t Broadway, but they still put on a good show.”

“Yeah,” Remy agreed. “It was a good date night.”

Emile’s hand reached for Remy’s and Remy smiled at Emile as they walked out to the front of the theatre. “All the actors and actresses killed it up there,” Remy said.

“Agreed,” Emile laughed. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone quite as good on stage as that...uh...Marco? Was that his name?”

Remy flipped open the leaflet with all the actors' names and made an affirmative noise. “Marco, yeah. He was the lead.”

“Yeah, he was good. Could probably do some professional stuff if he really wanted,” Emile said.

The two of them exited the theatre, still holding hands. They laughed at their favorite moments of the play, and continued to talk until they reached a rougher part of the city. They had to park a few blocks away from the theatre, and they weren’t in Fairview, but a town over. Emile got the distinct sense that they were being watched. Remy seemed to be getting the same feeling, looking around. “We should get out of here,” Remy muttered quietly under his breath.

No sooner had he said that then some drunk guys staggered out of an alleyway. “Hey!” the leader of them shouted. “Haven’t you boys heard? Fags aren’t welcome in this city!”

Emile squeezed Remy’s hand slightly as the two of them turned to face the three guys who were clearly drunk and looking for a fight. “Then why are you here?” Remy shot back to the guy.

“Remy? Might not be the best time,” Emile hissed.

The man growled. “Listen to your pal, Remy. My friends and I aren’t fags. We served.”

Emile prayed Remy would keep his mouth shut, but Remy retorted. “You know, gay guys enter the military, too. ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell,’ that whole deal? Yeah. Gay men serve. Probably more honorably than you, if there’s a war going on and you’re using ‘serve’ in the past tense.”

The man turned red and his buddies advanced on Emile and Remy. Remy moved in front of Emile. “Come now, boys. You can do more than intimidation, can’t you?”

One of them swung at Remy, hard, and Emile watched in horror as the world slowed down. Remy’s head collided with a fire hydrant, and he crumpled to the ground. “Oh my God, Remy?!” Emile exclaimed.

Remy didn’t respond, not even a groan. The three men looked surprised. “‘E’s not dead, is ‘e?” one of them asked uneasily.

“Better not stay and find out,” the first of them said. “You get off lucky this time, ya filthy queer.”

And with that, the three men ran off as much as one could run with excessive amounts of alcohol in their system. Emile knelt over Remy, scared to touch him. He pulled out his cellphone with shaky hands, calling an ambulance.

As the operator tried to soothe Emile’s nerves while the ambulance drove over, and Emile could hear the piercing wail of sirens. He couldn’t stop staring at Remy, who was bleeding from his head wound. Did head wounds bleed this much? Emile knew they bled a lot, but how much was too much?

The paramedics arrived and Emile fretted over what they were doing. He made to follow them into the ambulance, but one of them stopped him. “Sorry, we only allow family to come in the ambulance.”

Emile was frantic. “I am family! I’m his fiancé!”

“Unfortunately, fiancés don’t qualify as family,” the man said sympathetically. “You’ll have to meet us at the hospital.”

Emile ran his hands through his hair in frustration, but didn’t try to stop the paramedic as he ran to the front to drive the ambulance. Emile dashed the rest of the way to the car, tearing out of the parking lot and following the sound of the siren to get to the hospital.

Thankfully, they let Emile into Remy’s hospital room. Remy was still unconscious, and the nurse informed him that they were just waiting for an open room to do an MRI to see if anything had been damaged. Emile swallowed thickly. Brain damage. Remy could have brain damage. He tried not to laugh hysterically as the nurse left, or when she returned with another nurse to take Remy for a scan.

Emile waited for about twenty minutes, before Remy was rolled back into the room, slurring something unintelligible. “Your fiancé is here, Mister Picani,” the nurse said patiently. “Now please, stay in bed. The doctor saw no sign of permanent brain damage, but you still have a nasty concussion.”

“Emile!” Remy exclaimed, looking over at him and giving him a dopey smile. “You’re here!”

“Of course I’m here, Remy, I want to make sure you’re okay!” Emile laughed.

The nurse turned to Emile. “He woke up shortly before the MRI, and we had to sedate him to keep him calm. He may be a little loopy for the time being.”

“That’s okay,” Emile laughed, standing and walking over to hold Remy’s hand. “As long as he’s mostly okay and in one piece, I’m happy.”

The nurse gave him a curt nod and left them alone.

“Rem, don’t you ever instigate homophobes again,” Emile said sternly.

Remy groaned. “C’mon, Emile. Hardly the first time homophobes ‘ve taken a swing at me.”

“But it will be the last,” Emile said. “Understand? I cannot make you a frequent flyer at the hospital.”

Remy sighed. “Fine.” He did a slow blink, before giggling. “Mio amore, there was a nurse with a cute butt who cleaned the blood off my head. He also sedated me, though. That was kinda mean.”

“Apparently, you were freaking out before the MRI,” Emile said.

“Well...yeah. You weren’t there,” Remy said with a pout.

“They didn’t let me follow you,” Emile said. “The nurse didn’t even ask.”

Remy sighed. “I bet if we were married, they would’ve.”

Emile nodded. “I bet you’re right.”

They let silence envelope them for a minute. Emile felt his heart hurt. He wanted so badly for them to be married. But that still wasn’t a guarantee. The Massachusetts Supreme Court was taking its sweet time.

“Emile,” Remy said, capturing Emile’s attention. “Lie down with me.”

“Remy, I can’t—”

“Sure you can,” Remy said, scooching over on the bed. “Lie down with me.”

Emile sighed and laid down next to Remy.

“I’m okay. I have a concussion, but I’m okay. Understand?” Remy said. “Neither of us are super injured or super dying. It’s gonna be okay.”

“I hope so,” Emile said softly.

“I know so,” Remy said with all the definiteness of someone high as a kite on sedatives and painkillers. “You’re here. That means everything will be okay.”

Oh. That was...oddly sweet. “Thanks, Rem,” Emile said with a smile.

“Anytime, hot stuff,” Remy giggled. He wrapped an arm over Emile’s chest and hummed. “You’re warm,” he purred.

Emile laughed. “And you’re, apparently, a cat,” he chuckled, wrapping an arm around Remy.

Remy yawned. “The doctors aren’t going to let me sleep, are they?”

“I mean, they already know you have a concussion, so they might let you rest,” Emile said. “Truth be told, Rem, I don’t know.”

Remy grumbled. “My head still kinda hurts even with painkillers. I just wanna sleep it off.”

Emile lightly ran his fingers through Remy’s hair, and Remy leaned into the touch. “Try and sleep before they tell you that you can’t, then.”

Remy hummed. “Usually you’re a stickler for the rules, mio amore.”

“Usually you’re not in the hospital with a concussion and bound to whine about it, my love,” Emile said with a little grin.

“You just want me to stop whining?” Remy asked with a pout. “That’s so not romantic.”

“Well, I do also want you to rest up and heal well...” Emile said. “It’s just not my topmost priority.”

Remy stuck his tongue out at Emile and Emile stuck his out right back. “You mind if I call Mom and Dad?” Emile asked.

“No, go ahead,” Remy said, waving a hand. “I know you’re gonna want me to stay out of Sleep Easy and the home office, and you’re gonna wanna ask them about being my orderlies while you go to school.”

Emile sighed. “You are way too good at reading me, my love.”

Remy smiled dopily, “I should hope so, knowing you this long.”

Gently, Emile pushed up in the bed and left the room to make the call. He dialed the number and simultaneously hoped his parents would and wouldn’t pick up. “Hello?” his dad asked.

“Hey, Dad,” Emile managed to choke out.

“Emile? What’s going on that has you calling this late?”

“Well...uh...Remy landed himself in the hospital,” Emile said with a strangled laugh. “Moderate to severe concussion.”

“Oh my God,” his father breathed. “Is he okay?!”

“He’s awake now, thank God,” Emile said. “But I won’t be able to look after him when they release him from the hospital.”

“Your mother and I can come over and make sure he’s all right, Emile, don’t you worry about that,” his dad assured. “You need to make sure you keep passing your classes and that your fiancé is happy. Your mother and I are more than willing to be the bad guys in this situation if that means keeping him out of his damned office for a few days.”

Emile laughed. “Yeah, I don’t wanna be the one facing his wrath when he figures out that he won’t be able to work in the shop for at least two weeks,” he said. He sobered. “I don’t suppose you’ve heard anything from your lawyer friends in Massachusetts?”

“Not yet,” his dad sighed.

“They wouldn’t let me ride in the ambulance with Remy,” Emile admitted tearfully. “I was scared out of my wits, there was so much blood, he was unconscious and they just...wouldn’t let me ride with him. All because we weren’t married.” He spat the last word. “I swear, Dad, I wanted to strangle them then and there if they weren’t helping Remy.”

His dad blew out a breath. “I can’t imagine, Emile. I can’t imagine what that must have felt like. Nothing I can think of would do it justice.”

“I was terrified,” Emile said.

“You had every right to be,” his dad said. “That’s a terrifying thing. Now, without discounting that, I want to remind you that Remy is alive, and safe. Understand?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Emile nodded. “I understand.”

“Good,” his dad said. “Because your future husband needs your support too, I’ll bet.”

“Once the pain meds wear off and he’s no longer high as a kite, yeah,” Emile said wryly. “That’s when I’ll ream him for pissing off the wrong homophobes.”

“What?!” his dad asked, incredulous. “Emile, you need to report that to the police. That’s a hate crime!”

“Lots of good that’ll do, Dad. These guys were homophobes and vets. The cops won’t care,” Emile spat.

“Did they start it?” his dad asked.

“They’ll argue we started it, but we were just holding hands while we walked out of the theatre,” Emile said.

“Then report it, Emile! That is a hate crime! Don’t take that standing down!” his dad snapped.

Emile blinked. “Is this a you being protective thing or is this a I’m a lawyer and no one is above the law thing?”

“Emile, I can get a lawyer for you, pro bono. All I have to do is call in the right favors. They’re the ones responsible for the hospital bills, they’ll have to pay for them. Report this.”

Sometimes, Emile forgot how scary his dad got when he decided to go into lawyer mode. He swallowed. “Okay, Dad. I will.”

“Good,” his dad said. “Give that husband of yours a hug from both me and your mother. We’ll drive over tomorrow.”

[strawberriestyles]

Chapter 1

(Banner made by sweet sunshine @harry-nofookingway-styles​)

Harry X OFC (AU)

Sequel to Brutality: In which Melody and Harry must relearn how to navigate one another among a flurry of changes.

Read the prologue here.

Author’s note: YAYAY HERE WE GO IT ONLY TOOK ME HALF MY LIFETIME TO GET ENOUGH CHAPTERS STACKED UP!!! Please let me know what you think, and reblog!!!

The weather had warmed almost back to its usual summer temperatures. Melody felt like it was a sign. Harry was improving. Every day, even every minute, he was gaining something back. Just days ago he had cleared his throat and whispered something that Melody hadn’t been able to make out. It was a start.

She ran her thumb along the petal of a lily on the windowsill. Bea had sent them with her the day before. A sort of apology to Harry, she supposed, for her lack of kindness. But Bea hadn’t felt that it was appropriate for her to visit Harry, not yet. Not after the way she’d treated him since they met. And Melody couldn’t wait for them to right those wrongs, to see each other in the same light that she saw them.

“It’s beautiful out today,” Melody said as she turned toward Harry. “I wish it would stay.” She settled into her chair and wrapped her hand around Harry’s. “Do you want me to read?”

Harry squeezed a ‘yes' into her fingers, so she curled her legs up beneath her and pulled the book she’d been reading aloud from the table beside her. She’d started over the day after Harry had woken up, because despite what she’d wanted to believe, he hadn’t been able to hear her reading to him while he was unconscious. Or if he did hear her, he couldn’t remember it.

Melody flipped to her bookmarked page and licked her lips to begin the new chapter.

“Yeh changed your hair.”

Her arms jerked the book from her hands. It fell to the floor in front of her chair, cover bent back, as she sat forward again. Her eyes searched Harry’s face and settled on the sharp curve of his pleased smile. “You’re talking? You just talked.”

“I like it.”

Melody shook her head. Bea had dyed her hair for her, and had even re-dyed it since that first time. A shade darker than strawberry blonde, almost red, coppery.

“The first thing you wanna talk about is my hair?” she asked. Her voice was gentle. She didn’t really care what he wanted to talk about, she was just grateful that he was speaking at all. Even if it sounded like his vocal cords had spent years collecting dust in some abandoned attic. Like the air was being dragged over rough gravel.

“Well, it looks good.”

Melody pressed her palms to her face and took a shuddering breath. Harry’s face fell.

“Are yeh cryin’?”

Melody shook her head again and folded her hands in her lap. She let out a weak laugh. “No, I’m not crying. I could.” She stared at his curious face, now open and expectant like a child’s.

“Oh, God,” she muttered as realization dawned, finally climbing to her feet. “I need to get Dr. Florin.”

“No, she knows,” Harry said.

Melody paused, frowning. “What do you mean?”

“They’ve had some fancy speech doctor in here whenever yeh’re gone.”

She dropped back down into her chair and scratched at the cotton of Harry’s bedsheets. The only type of rehabilitation she had seen was the physician who came in once a day to test Harry’s movements, help him stretch out his limbs, begin rebuilding his weakened muscles. But they had been doing that stretching even when he wasn’t awake. It was nothing new to her.

“I don’t know whether I’m upset that no one informed me or if I’m just glad that you can talk back to me, now.”

“Can finally tell yeh to fuck off, right?”

Melody whipped her head upward, but Harry’s eyes were dancing, his lips twitching.

“That was a joke, Mel.”

She felt all of the muscles in her body coil and then relax. She hadn’t realized how much she had missed hearing her name on his lips, especially the shortened version.

“Mentioned your hair ‘cause it was the first thing I noticed,” Harry continued when she didn’t seem like she was amused by his attempt at a joke. “Have yeh also been…workin’ out?”

Melody did laugh at this. And to Harry’s horror, she also let out a stuttered sob. Tears dripped down her cheeks. She wiped at them quickly.

“Why’re yeh doin’ that?” he asked frantically. "What did I say?”

“No, no,” Melody rushed. “I just—” She slipped her fingers into her hair and rubbed at her overwhelmed head. “It’s been a while. For me. You’ve missed a lot. What’s the last thing you remember?”

Harry had taken the news of his coma surprisingly well. And he seemed to have no trouble believing that Colton had caused it. He didn’t even seem fazed when he heard that Colton still hadn’t been found, even seen. It was the time gap that seemed to cause him some trouble. Melody had watched the pulse on his monitor spike when he’d learned that nearly five months had passed. Five months. And Melody had yet to fill him in on what had happened in the meantime. Now that he could ask questions, she supposed it was time for those conversations.

Harry blinked lazily and then turned his eyes away from her. “Far as I knew, I went to sleep that Tuesday yeh saw me after trainin' and woke up here the next mornin’.”

“Jesus Christ,” Melody muttered. “Harry I could tell you I’m sorry a billion times over but I—”

“I don’ wanna talk about that. Let’s just say I forgave yeh, okay? Since Sean told me yeh basically moved in here.”

“Wait, did he know you were talking?”

“Yeah.”

“That dick.”

Harry chuckled, that deep rumble in his chest, and Melody thought she might cry again, so she worked herself through deep breaths.

“Yeh didn’ answer my question,” Harry said, perhaps to distract her. He didn’t want any more of the crying. He’d seen enough tears in the past couple of weeks, even if she tried to hide them, to blink them back. “Yeh’ve been workin’ out?”

“Yes,” Melody answered with a thin smile. “I can’t really see the difference.”

“There’s a difference,” Harry assured her. “Yeh look good.”

Melody felt herself blush like she was back in high school, like she hadn’t been in a relationship with Harry, like he hadn’t seen her completely naked on countless occasions. She pressed her fingers back to her heated cheeks. She wished that she could say the same about him, but Harry had grown thinner, paler. And even months of uninterrupted sleep couldn’t help how tired he looked. The skin around his eyes was sunken and bruised.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “You keep complimenting me.”

Harry chewed at his lower lip. He didn’t tell her that it was because he felt bad for her, like he’d put her through the ringer. She wouldn’t appreciate his pity. In fact, it didn’t even make sense in his own mind. He was the one who’d been shot in the head. By someone he shared blood with, at that. He’d missed five months of his own life and of hers. But he kept thinking about if the roles had been reversed, if Melody had been the one in this bed, if he was the one sitting there waiting for her to wake up. It didn’t matter what kind of arguments they'd had, the idea was still painful. And he didn’t want that thought running through his head. So he was trying to alleviate some of the trouble she’d probably been going through, to sop up some of the pain and fear that seemed to have spilled.

“Can yeh show me your workouts, then? What is it? Hot yoga?”

“Shut up,” Melody laughed.

“No, ‘m serious. I’d love to see that. Probably have to strip down to just your—”

“Harry, shut up!” she shouted, leaning forward to clap a hand over his mouth. It was amazing to her, how quickly they could just fall back into step. Five months of worrying whether she’d ever get the chance to fix things between them, and it all seemed like a thing of the past in a single day.

“Yeh know,” Harry said as she peeled her hand away, “just started talkin’ to yeh today and yeh’re already tellin’ me to shut up. Tha’s not a good sign.”

“Yeah, well maybe if you weren’t trying to be cheeky.”

Harry let his eyes fall closed as Melody’s fingers brushed back hair from his forehead. Her touch was gentle and he felt her skim the shell of his ear, the side of his head where his hair was shorter than the rest, where they’d shaved it down to the scalp five months earlier so Dr. Florin could assess the damage the bullet had caused and try to patch it up as best she could. He wondered how terrible the scars there looked, if they were hideous or impressive. He hadn’t been able to get himself to look in a mirror.

“Thought yeh liked when I’m cheeky."

“Oh, thank God.” Melody and Harry both turned their heads toward the open door when they heard Vanessa’s voice. “I’ve been blowing up like a balloon about to pop not telling you, Melody.”

“Are you joking?” Melody demanded, sitting back. "Did everyone know? Why are we keeping me out of the loop?”

“Doc thought it’d be better if you didn’t have to watch him struggle with his speech. And that was the skill that she thought he’d recover fastest, so surprise!”

“I hate surprises,” Melody muttered.

“Well, I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Vanessa continued as though nothing had happened. “It’s that time again, Harry.”

He hummed, not pleasantly, Melody noticed. Vanessa didn’t seem to care whether he was annoyed or not. She went about her business all the same, checking his vitals, asking him innocent questions about how he was feeling. He replied only in grunts and short words.

“You know, Doc also said Melody might be able to take you for a walk out in the garden if you’re feeling up for it today. It’s very nice out.”

Harry perked up almost immediately. His entire demeanor toward Vanessa shifted. It was visible in his face, in the way that his fingers curled at his sides.

“Okay.” She chuckled and finished scribbling stats onto the clipboard she held. “Well, your vitals are good, too. I’ll get a chair and a couple of nurses in here.”

Vanessa didn’t notice as she left the room with a smile of her own, but Melody watched the way that Harry seemed to deflate. He stared blankly across the room, his lips set stonily. He had been out of bed a few times, had even tried standing with assistance, but no one could keep him on his feet for long. She knew how much it frustrated him.

“What’s wrong?” she asked gently. “Did you change your mind?”

“No.” Harry shook his head. Melody waited for him to speak again but he didn’t, and she didn’t press. Everything about this felt eerily familiar.

They waited for the nurses to bring Harry a wheelchair, him patiently and her not so much. She’d wanted to get him outdoors for days, had been begging Dr. Florin. She thought it would do him some good and she was grateful for the opportunity that the nice weather and Harry’s surprisingly good condition had provided. Anything that might lift his mood and make his recovery less dismal.

The nurses arrived. Stocky, broad men. Despite the physical withering that had eaten away at him, Harry still had a good amount of muscle. It just needed to get used to constant movement again. But he wasn’t light and Melody couldn’t move him, no matter how much working out she’d been doing.

The men waited while Melody slid a pair of stretchy hospital pants onto Harry’s limp legs. He didn’t want these strangers touching him. In fact, he didn’t seem to like many of the medical workers very much at all. Not even Dr. Florin. He did like his physical therapist, though—a short but fit man who reminded Melody a lot of Sean in the way he spoke and joked.

Melody waited then while the nurses unhooked Harry from his monitor and scooped him out of the bed, one on each side, arms under his thighs and around his back. They lowered him slowly into the wheelchair that they'd brought, arranging his legs for him, and then they left the room.

Melody watched Harry’s eyes avoid her throughout the entirety of the process. She didn’t mention it. She could only guess how he felt, having to be moved around and carried. She hoped that when he wanted to discuss it, if he wanted to discuss it, she wouldn’t need to pry. Maybe this new dynamic that they were discovering would make opening up easier for him. She hoped for the best.

Melody kicked the chair’s lock out of place and wheeled Harry straight out into the hall without another word.

***

Outside in the garden, it was even nicer than Melody had expected from looking out the window. She and Harry had walked around in circles for almost a half hour before he’d asked her to stop.

“Just wanna sit in the sun,” he’d said.

Now they were just sitting. Melody, actually, was sprawled out on the grass before him, her eyes closed against the light. Harry was watching her, the way her hair shone differently than it did when it was blonde, with an almost pinkish hue. Even her eyebrows were this new shade. He noticed a scar at the edge of her left brow where no hair was growing. He didn’t think he’d ever seen it before, but he wasn’t sure if it was just a glitch in his memory. Everything was so different and strange. He didn’t ask her about the scar. He just let her lay there and relax, even if he couldn’t. Watching her relax calmed him.

“Are you staring at me?” Melody asked. She cracked an eye open, fanning her fingers out over the dewy grass beneath her.

Another wheelchair rolled past them. It was a middle-aged woman pushing a younger child who might’ve been about eight years old. The boy was hooked up to an oxygen tank and he was hairless and pale, and Harry had never wanted to be somewhere else so badly in his entire life.

“When do I get the fuck outta here?” he asked when the boy was out of hearing range.

Melody pushed herself up into a sitting position and tilted her head at him. She took a deep breath. The air smelled sweetly of the flowers that had survived the city’s brutal and dry August. The summer was Melody’s favorite time of the year and she was disappointed that Harry had missed so much of it—all of it, really. It would be seven or eight months until the weather started to warm again, now that fall was beginning to arrive.

“It’s probably gonna be a couple more weeks.” Melody lifted a hand to shield her eyes from the afternoon sunlight. "They just wanna make sure you’re really okay. And I’m sure they’re gonna start working you back on your feet pretty soon, okay?”

“This shit sucks.”

Melody let out a breathy laugh and rose onto her knees in front of him, nodding. “That’s why I thought you’d like being out here.”

Harry glanced around again. He would have liked it a whole lot better if he could have walked himself around the winding paths instead of having Melody pushing him around. It was beautiful, though. All of the bushes were well pruned and the flowers were arranged into bright beds of color. He wanted to be laying in the grass with Melody.

“Are you hungry?” she asked him. “We could go back in and get some food from the cafeteria. It’ll be like a date.”

“A date?” he asked. “In a hospital? Tha’s a bit of a downgrade from an art exhibit, yeah?”

“The food’s better,” she said, and when she leaned forward to kiss him, Harry was caught too off-guard to do anything but sit there. But he felt the familiarity of her lips and smelled her perfume, a scent that he had memorized long ago, and it finally felt like there was something that he could hold onto from before everything that he was missing.

He blinked at her when she rose to her feet. She blinked back and mumbled a quiet “sorry” before rounding his chair to lead him inside. They didn’t talk about the kiss or what it might mean while they ate stir-fry and chocolate cake together, and Melody left with just a quick squeeze of Harry’s hand late that evening.

Chapter 2

[ssixa]

Chance Encounter//Mark Tuan x Y/N

Description: Walking into the night shift at the hospital proves to keep you on your toes. Nights are left to the universe so you can only hope that tonight will be decent. What happens when you find out that one of your patients is THE Mark Tuan from GOT7? how do you try to deal with the chaos erupting from this chance encounter? and how many times do you have to tell yourself that you love your job?

Genre: fluff, slight cringe

Pairing: Black Fem ReaderxMark Tuan (though I will say there isn’t much description of black characteristics)

Word count: 2.4k

Warning: explicit language, slight nudity 

A/n: I forgot to add that this will be a whole chapter story so if you like the story so far, please look forward to future chapters. Though I would give a specific day I update, life is pretty busy rn, but it will most definitely be every week:) I’m really grateful to the response I’ve gotten off the first chapter bc we all know how hard it is to get any type of interaction on this platform lol. Anyways, please enjoy chapter 2!!

*All pic collages are made by me unless I state otherwise. Individual pictures in the collage are not mine and I give credit to where credit is due.

Chapter 2

Finally done with my rounds! I don’t know how I managed to finish in a decent time, but I guess having most of my patients be up ad lib (medical term: abbreviation from Latin term ‘as libitum’ meaning ‘at pleasure’ and ‘at one’s pleasure, as much as one wishes.’” (medicinenet.com) or to put it more simply, people who are independent or don’t need assistance) or not need anything made it a bit easier to finish. I look at my watch and see I have a bit of time to catch up on the rounding part of charting, before starting my 9pm roundings which just include checking up on my patients. I sit down at the computer and catch up on my charting. Luckily, I didn’t have any interruptions while finishing up so I happened to finish on time with that too. I decided to go ahead and start my roundings a little early.

I made my way from room to room to check on the patients, but I walked in and out of Mark’s room to switch on the sink so the water could get hot and also to see what extra stuff to bring for his bath. He gave me an odd look, but I explained and he just nodded. Yet again it seemed that none of my patients needed anything so I ended up finishing at a good time as well. I made my way to the clean utility and got fresh bed sheets, a gown, towels and washcloths, and a blue bag to put all the used materials and dirty linens. With my arms full, I made my way to Mark’s room. With a few deep breaths, I knock and make my way in. I greet Mark who seems to be on his phone with his earphones in. He looks up at me and smiles and I smile back politely as I throw the materials in the chair and check the water temperature. As I turn around to get gloved up, Mark grabs my attention,

“Hey once you’re done come here for a sec” he says nonchalantly. I looked at him confused, but decided he wanted to tell me something that he was nervous someone could walk by and hear it outside the door. So once I get my hands double gloved, I walk towards him. 

“What’s up? Did you need something” I question. 

“Here’s my phone” he pushes his phone out towards me. I look at him in confusion as he keeps his arm forward.

“Um~ Mr. Tuan, I don’t really know what you’re wanting me to do with your phone? Wait, do you know where you are? Can you tell me your name and birth date?” I question worriedly (a/n: though techs, but nurses, aren’t the ones to ask these questions, these types of questions are asked to patients to check if they are mentally confused). He just keeps laughing and unplugs his earphones while keeping his hand stretched out with his phone at the palm. 

“Since you’re SUCH a big fan of Got7 and more specifically JB, I thought you would want to watch some never revealed videos of him” he grins. 

“OMG REALLY?!? That would really be awesome! Are you sure I can look, I don’t want to be invading any privacy here” I said.

“Well I’m the one offering so it’s not invading anything, just thought you might be interested” he surmised.

“Oh well, don’t mind if I do” I laughed. I went for his phone and all I see is the screen full of JB just chilling in bed. I look at Mark and say I think this video is frozen…

“Oh it’s not frozen, try saying hi” Mark smirks. I looked at him in confusion. It wasn’t until I looked back at the screen that I realized something...this wasn’t a video…

“WAIT THIS ISN’T A VIDEO?!?!” I slightly scream in horror

“Hello y/n, it’s nice to meet you!” JB says from the phone in a tired yet interested voice. I thank the heavens that I’m black and also wearing a mask because I have the biggest grin on my face and I’m pretty sure I’m blushing crazily right now. Looking up at Mark with a glare he tries his hardest not to laugh too loudly, but it’s obvious with tears welling up in his eyes that he’s on the brink of no return.

“It’s so nice to meet you too! This is honestly surreal! I wouldn’t have imagined talking to you in these circumstances though” I say with awkward laughter. 

“Oh yes! Mark hyung told me that I’m your favorite in Got7 and in Kpop, is that true?” with slight shy laughter. Again, my eyes glare to Mark who at this point is as red as a tomato laughing silently with tears falling down his face. I look back at the phone and kept talking,

“He told you that huh? Well it’s true hehe. I was hoping that it would have been kept a secret, but I guess it’s a little too late now” I joke. JB laughs and all the sudden I’m not as mad at Mark for pulling this rude prank on me. To be honest, I wasn’t even mad from the beginning, how could I be! I am looking and talking to an idol I love, who’s barefaced, hair in a bun, laying in bed with a sleepy look. How could I be mad at that?!I’m living the “y/n” life right now!

“Well it’s good to know that my hyung is being taken care of by someone as pretty as you. What are you planning on doing with hyung by the way?” he asks curiously. I’m taken aback by the sudden question, but come to realize that my stupid mind somehow decided to be in the gutter. Frazzled, I reply 

“Oh! I was just about to give him a bath because he’s not allowed to walk according to the doctor”

“uhhh...huh?...Marku…” he calls out to Mark. I realized that what I said probably didn’t make much sense to him so he asked for Mark to translate. My assumption was right when I heard Mark speak up in Korean and talked for a little while JB listened intently. I then heard an “ahhh~” from the phone meaning JB understood. Looking back at the phone, I can see JB’s eyes slightly shifting which makes me question what exactly Mark told him. Looking back at Mark, I ask

“Mr. Tuan, what exactly did you tell JB?” I say with gritted teeth

“Oh that you’re going to be seeing me naked in a few minutes” he smirked. Mark Tuan...I’m going to kill you. In a panic, I look to JB in shock

“I swear it’s not like that, well maybe a little, but I’m just giving him a bath!!” I frantically say. JB laughs jollily at my frantic state, but I feel like I heard him mutter something under his breath, but it was in Korean so I just kinda memorized it to search it up later. 

“I have to go now unfortunately, it was nice getting to talk to you JB” I say happily. He smiles back with a reply,

“It was nice getting to talk to you too, be sure to take care of our Markipoo” he said proudly. I started laughing a little harder than before, who knew they would have a cute nickname for Mark!

“IM JAEBUM I TOLD YOU NOT TO CALL ME THAT!!” Mark says angrily. Before Mark can get any more words out, JB yells 

“Bye nice to meet you!” and I reply,

“Bye love you too!” and the call ended. Wait… did I just tell JB I loved him?!? FFFUUCCKKKKK HE’S GOING TO THINK I’M WEIRD NOW!! HOW THE HELL DO YOU TELL SOMEONE YOU JUST MET YOU LOVE THEM!!! HOPEFULLY HE JUST THINKS IT’S AN AMERICAN THING...BUT I’M NOT EVEN AMERICAN...BUT I WAS RAISED HERE...WAIT HE DOESN’T KNOW ANY OF THAT!!! Maybe he’ll just think of it as a fan to an idol “I love you” not a man to a woman. This shift is not ending fast enough, but I have to be back here tomorrow night too. Rip. 

Mark must have sensed my freak out because he mimics, 

“I love you too” with a kissy face. 

“Mr. Markipoo it would be wise of you not to mock the person working in the health profession, unless you want to make your hospital stay longer” I say through clenched teeth trying my best to hold my tongue. 

“DON’T CALL ME THAT! But ok ok, that was just too priceless. You just made my hospital stay a lot more entertaining” he said laughingly. 

“I’m glad you find enjoyment in my suffering” I say with a huff.

“Let’s just get started on the bath already because being in here I’m feeling more tortured” I say through a fake cry. 

I grabbed the basin, filled it up with the hot water, and grabbed the soap and threw the towels into the water. I discard the top covers onto the ground to be put in the blue bag later. I then relay to him that I would start taking the gown off and he gives me the go ahead. Before fully discarding of the gown he asks,

“Um y/n, do you mind just leaving the gown around more of my private area?” he asks shyly.

“Oh of course! Would you like it placed over your butt as well?” I reply.

“Oh, um, sure if you don’t mind”

I placed the gown around the area and got him to roll over a bit to shove the gown under his butt so when he eventually turned over he would be covered. There is a certain appropriateness that comes along with my job and at this point my head is desensitized to a lot of things, but this is Mark Tuan we’re talking about. These are the abs that he’s shown off so many times at concerts and on lives; the teasing way knowing the thousands of fans watching will never be able to touch them, but here I am. Remembering I’m on the job, I ask the typical question,    

“Would you like a hot towel to wash your face with? And do you want it with or without soap?” I ask.

“Sure and no soap please” he replied. I handed him the hot towel and proceeded with the comments. 

“Since your arms look like they work fine, I will let you wash your upper body while i get your legs, cool? Cool” I conclude myself. Mark just laughed and went along. I gave him another hot towel with soap and he proceeded to wash. 

“No staring no staring” I think to myself. I head for the legs and proceed to wash giving him direction to lift one and then the other. Who knew he had ticklish feet. We wash off the remaining soap and I grab towels so he can dry off. I tell him to turn his body so I can get his back. He does what I say and rolls to the side of the bed. I proceed to wash his back while with another wash cloth he has he cleans his private area. Same as before we rinse off and rolls again, but this time to face me. He was just staring at me until I realized he was washing his butt. I quickly turn around to give him some privacy (thank god for masks) and he pipes up, 

“Why’d you turn around?” with an obvious smirk in his voice.

“Just to give you some privacy hehe, it’s kinda weird making eye contact through this, but just tell me when you're done” I reply surprisingly well. 

“I’m done,” he replies. He finishes drying off and I let him hand me the used washcloths and towels to throw into the used pile of linens. I finished getting the old linens off and new linens on, got the new gown on and discarded the old gown as well. I dump the water out, set the basin aside, and toss the soap into the garbage. I gather the dirty linens into the blue bag, tie the bag up, and push it to sit outside the door. I head to the computer table and tap into his charts to document the bath he had just received. The room is silent and I just look over to see what he was up to. He’s just, staring...at me?

“W-what?” I ask slightly flustered.

“Nothing, just thankful that I just got an awesome bath from my pretty tech” he winked and yet again with that smirk. I think we have a few more vacant rooms in the unit. 

“Alright Mr. pretty boy, do you need me to get you anything? It’s about the next time for vitals.”I relay.

“Already? It feels like just a few moments ago you were here”

“Yeah~ that little stunt you pulled with the video call was mad disrespectful and took up a bit of our time.” I snark.

“Ah~ really? Why do you sound so angry, I thought you would be more excited about it, but you looked like you were ready to murder me” he laughs.

“As much appreciated as that call was, imagine talking to one of your favorite celebs out of blue. Anyone would be flustered at that. I’m just glad that my mask covers my face and I at least have eyebrows on” I laughed sighed. 

“Yeah, I see your point, but I bet you look perfectly fine even without the mask and eyebrows.” he remarks.

“Mr. Tuan I’m really going to need you to stop being such a flirt especially with stuff that isn’t true.” I joked, but meant it kinda. 

“Who said I was lying though?” he deadpanned at me. His expression really caught me off guard so I just kind of shook it off. 

“Um I’m just going to head out and I’ll be back in a little while” I say while exiting the door. Yet another deep breath and like clockwork the same nurse walks by,

“Funny running into you outside the same room, you don’t look ok, do you need any help with anything?” she asked caringly.

“Oh I’m fine, he’s an easy patient but giving baths can be tiresome even with the easiest patient.” I reply laughingly. Not that it’s a full lie though. Bed baths can take between 15 to almost 30 min depending on the patient. Especially bathing a patient by yourself, it’s a bit tiring. Then again, there is no way to explain the heart attack he gave me with the face time to JB that preceded the bath and the look he gave me when I left the room. I just know, he’s dangerous and I’m really going to have to be careful being around this man. Remember y/n, you love your job, you love your job...you love your job.

Previous/Next

[maastrash]

Nooo. Please just let me be happy. Let them be happy. You’re killing me here with all this angst and cliffhangers. I need them to be safe and have all the fluff in the world

hehe here is the fluff you’ve been waiting for ;)

1 // 2 // 3

Azriel shot up immediately 

The machines were beeping like crazy 

To his horror, Elain was pale and unresponsive

Within seconds the room was filled with nurses

It was a blur

He could feel two of them escorting him out

One of them whispering encouragements in his ear

But he couldn’t listen

He had just gotten her back

After almost 8 months he finally had her in his arms again

He had promised her nothing was going to happen to her

If Elain didn’t make it -

He stopped himself

He wouldn't think like that

Azriel ran his fingers through his hair

The doctors had to deliver the baby 

Elain was too weak to carry it any longer

It was early, but the doctors were hopeful

At least, that’s what they had told him

He tried to believe that 

Cassian, Rhysand, Nesta, and Feyre rushed to the hospital as soon as they heard

They all sat in the waiting room for what felt like hours

Feyre was pacing with Rhys by her side

Nesta sat, silent as a stone but everyone could tell her strong facade was crumbling by the minute

Cassian rubbed soothing circles on her back and Nesta leaned into his touch

Azriel tried to stay positive 

But after a while, he couldn't take it anymore

He demanded answers from the front desk but no one seemed to know anything

He stormed outside trying his best to take deep breaths

The sky was still dark and gloomy from the rain

It was as if the world knew what Az was feeling

He was angry

The icy rage he tried so hard to contain was so close to exploding

If only he had gotten to her sooner

If only he had handled the mission better

His thoughts were interrupted as a frantic Cassian ran out

“Elain is awake”

Azriel had never run so fast in his life

He wasn’t waiting for the elevator

He ran up 6 flights of stairs barely breaking a sweat

When he reached her room he couldn't have asked for a better view

Elain was pale and clearly groggy, but she was smiling

And next to her inside an incubator

Was a newborn baby

“Az” Elain smiled softly

He was by her side instantly

Holding her hand, fixing her hair, kissing her cheek

“I’m fine,” she said squeezing his hand

And she said it again and again until he started to believe her

“You have a daughter” she whispered

Azriel laughed softly as he looked at the incubator

She was so small, but the doctors assured she was going to be fine

“We have to think of names” he whispered back

Elain smiled, “Sounds like a tomorrow problem”

Azriel smiled back as Elain drifted off to sleep

Azriel stood taking in the beauty of his two sleeping girls

He snapped a picture to send to the rest of the group

He couldn’t wait to show them their daughter

And for the first time in days, the sun was shining

tags: @illyriangarbage​ // @court-of-fuck-me-daddy  // @girlnovels  // @aelinninielelain // @julesherondalex // @rosehallshadowsinger // @ifangirlninja // @dreamerforever-5// @queen-of-wings-and-fire // @rhysanoodle  // @jemma-nessian-and-elriel // @books-and-words-addict  // @nightinshadow  // @wolffrising  // @the-regal-warrior  // @dreamingofalba // @clarkesardothien  // @abillionlittlepieces // @alitzeldiaz // @kylizzles // @queenmaas​ // @hollyblue2171 @illyrian-bookworm // @aspillofstars // @b00kworm // @tswaney17 // @girl-who-reads-the-books // @theshadowsinger-and-thefawn

[megalony]

I see the light- Part 2

This is the second part to my firefighter! Ben Hardy AU which I hope you will all enjoy, thank you for the lovely feedback.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogermeddow @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez @jonesyaddiction @rogahs-drowse @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me

Ben Hardy masterlist

Part 1

Summary: Ben is a firefighter and it is his last shift before he takes time off to be with (Y/n) when their baby is born. But his last shift doesn’t go to plan and an accident happens.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Call (Y/n)!" Ben spat the two words violently at Joe who was running beside the stretcher the blond was laid out on, his hand gripping the metal rails of the stretcher like they were his lifeline. Joe wanted desperate to reach out and take Ben's hand but he couldn't with how badly they were burnt and simmering. The flesh was blistering and created the stench of burning flesh and smoke.

"Tyler's already calling her for you, mate. She won't be long." Joe rubbed at his own eyes that were sore from the smoke and the dust that he had to wash out on the way in the ambulance. In all the years he had been doing this job, Joe had lost fellow workers, he had lost people he tried his best to save and he saw so many firefighters get injured or have to quit the job.

He had never seen someone be blinded before.

The moment the four doctors wheeled Ben into an emergency room and allowed Joe to stand in the corner, they got to work.

They were grabbing scissors and cutting through the leaf green shirt, the grey vest and the green trousers that were partially melted against the right side of his body from the flames and the heat of the building they had been in before. Ben was barely able to stay sitting up but he writhed and elbowed the doctors out of instinct when they caused him pain he didn't want nor need. Ben didn't want them to get his tattered clothes off his frame, he didn't want them attending to his burns, he wanted his eyes fixing and cleaning properly.

"Do we know what was in that building when it caused this?" One of the men turned to look at Joe, indicating to Ben's eyes that were worse than they had been when Joe had tried to clean them.

"Cylinders of chemicals and a gas leak... we don't know what chemicals were in there when it blew up." Joe shrugged his shoulders, angered at himself that he couldn't be any help. They didn't know what chemicals had been hidden away in the building, they simply had a source telling them to get everyone out before it went up in flames and Ben had heard and smelt the gas leak that blew up the third floor. Whatever had gotten into his eyes was unknown to all of them.

His eyelids were already beginning to swell and they were turning a vibrant shade of red. His actual eyes were blown wide, the blood vessels becoming prominent and the whites were now pink with speckles of black dust. All around his eyes and nose, the skin was peeling in great chunks. Some of the skin was bleached white and the rest was a mix of tender pink, blushing red and a lot of blood. The heat and whatever chemicals had exploded had battered his face and burnt through at least two layers of flesh.

A guttural moan escaped Ben's lips when someone pressed a damp cloth against his right arm not far below his shoulder where the fire had burnt down to the muscle. His arm started to twitch uncontrollably as the nurse was trying to clean the muck and dirt from the wound so it could heal without the risk of getting infected.

"M-my eyes, do something to my eyes... I can't see anything and it burns." Ben reached his shaking, blistered hand out and latched his fingers around whichever professional was stood closest to him. He dragged them closer by their hand so they would see how desperate he was. He needed them to fix his eyes before any permanent damage meant he was going to be blind forever.

The moment someone tried to pull back his eyelids to see what damage had been done, Ben's teeth started to grind down against one another as he couldn't choke back a scream. The veins in his jaw, neck and temple were pulsing to the point they looked like they were going to burst as his neck tensed so badly his head started to shake.

When swabs and cotton pads were dabbed gently against his nose and around his tender eyes, Ben started to writhe around again as he screamed. He wanted them to help but to do that they were physically torturing him worse than the explosion had.

"Mr Jones, I think we'd better sedate you and then we can clean up all of your burns and tend to your eyes."

"Ben, I'll wait outside and bring (Y/n) in as soon as she arrives." Joe tenderly reached out and patted Ben's lower leg before he left the room when a nurse ushered him out. Ben would have to be put under some sort of anaesthetic or a very high dosage of drugs to keep him calm and at bay whilst they tried to help him or else their jobs were going to be ten times harder.

"Joe... t-the boy, is he okay?"

Joe could see Ben's eyes darting from left to right behind his eyelids as his head slowly turned to the left in the direction he thought Joe was standing in. Ben had to work off of his hearing that seemed to be amplified now that one of his senses was temporarily out of order. Ben had only just realised that he hadn't asked about the boy Tyler got out of the building, he didn't know if he had been injured badly or if he was okay.

"You just focus on getting-"

"Bullshit, I need to know if he's okay?" Ben snapped, he didn't have the patience to wait until after he was sedated, he needed to know. "Find him, they must have brought him here I need to know he's alright-"

"He didn't make it." Joe snapped back like a crocodile snapping its jaw at its prey. Ben had never lost anyone before, he'd never had a casualty that he couldn't save.

Ben's body doubled over like he was going to be sick or press his head into his knees as he choked on air, tortured sounds and yells leaving his chapped and burnt lips. Why had he been the one to survive that if the young boy didn't? What was so special about Ben that he should get to live? He tried to save him, he clung to him and tried to shield him from whatever had exploded in that flat, there was no reason why the boy should have passed away if Ben didn't.

"Sedate him now."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Where is he?!" (Y/n) could feel her heartbeat in her mouth as her frantic eyes scanned around the corridor. She could see Joe, Adam and Tyler all sitting down on chairs pressed up against a wall in a corridor but she needed Ben. No one told her who badly he was injured or what had happened, they simply said the whole team had been taken down to the hospital and Ben was one of those injured.

She knew he shouldn't have been on this shift, why did he have to go on call?

Ben shouldn't have taken any more shifts, they should both have been safely in bed without any problems or accidents happening to either of them. (Y/n) should not have received a call at five in the morning telling her something had happened to her husband and she was to get down to the hospital as quick as she could.

Getting up from his seat, Adam headed over to stand in front of (Y/n), effectively blocking her from walking any further because Ben's room was on her right but she couldn't go in yet.

Scanning her eyes over the three men she knew well, (Y/n) saw that Joe had both hands bandaged and a few burns on his neck and cheeks. Adam had dirt in his deflated hair and his arms were covered in scratch and burn marks. Tyler looked the most covered in grime but the less injured, except for the constant coughs leaving his chapped lips.

"Adam, where is he? What happened?" (Y/n) clung to Adam's arms as she tried her best to hold herself together. She knew Adam well, he was someone Ben really clicked with at work and went out with for drinks after shifts. But never in all the years she had known him, had (Y/n) ever seen Adam look afraid. He was laid back, he was carefree and the joker of the group, he was not the serious one or the fearful one.

"They're just patching him up, they had to sedate him. We were at a building but an explosion happened and Ben got caught in it." His lips faltered at the corers when he watched the sheer horror take over (Y/n)'s face like he had shot her. She seemed to stoop forward just a little causing his hands to tighten around her for safety. "He's got third-degree burns on the right side of his body, but the explosion caused a backfire in his eyes. At the moment, they're doing what they can to save his sight."

(Y/n) turned her head to the left as a flurry of tears escaped her eyes that were beginning to become blurred. Ben couldn't go blind, he wouldn't know what to do with himself. He was like everyone else, he relied on his sight for everything and if it was taken away from him he would go mad. He loved watching movies, it was his biggest hobby, he played sports and rugby when he wasn't at work. He loved his job, he couldn't be a fireman if he was blind.

He wouldn't see their baby that he had been so excited for.

"Why Ben? Why are none of you burned or blinded?" (Y/n) didn't mean to sound so cruel or angry but she couldn't help it. A sob escaped her lips as she pressed her hand to her mouth, saying nothing when Adam wrapped her up in a hug.

Why was it Ben? Why were none of them blinded or fighting for their sight to be saved? Why hadn't they got third-degree burns on half of their bodies, what had made them so special that they were spared from such a fate but Ben wasn't?

"(Y/n)..." Joe trailed off, his head turning to look at the door when it opened and a doctor walked out into the hallway. If everything was done with Ben, then the doctor would need to talk to (Y/n) as she was his next of kin. She had to know what happens next and what they were going to do, she had to know about Ben's sight as well. But if they were going to give her bad news then (Y/n) didn't want to hear it, she couldn't take any horrible news yet.

Her body started to shake as she took slow steps over to the doctor, feeling Adam's hand pressing to her back as he stood next to her for support. He knew she wouldn't mind the three of them hearing the news about Ben.

"Mrs Jones, your husband has suffered a lot of burns. We had to take away part of the burned tissue and muscle from his right bicep but his arm and leg have third-degree burns and there are lesser burns on his torso."

"What about his eyes?"

"We've cleaned them and injected supplements and painkillers around his eyes to help the healing, but for now, they will be bandaged for at least a month. When his eyes have had time to heal and the swelling has gone down, we will know if his vision is permanently damaged or not. For now I can't say anything for certain."

(Y/n) didn't know if she liked that response or not.

They were going to make Ben live in fear for the next month, wondering if the rest of his life was going to be spent in darkness or if he was going to regain back the sense that had been stolen from him. That wasn't fair, but it was better than being told outright that he was never going to see again. There was hope, there was a chance for Ben and they were going to have to be grateful for this chance, no matter how small it seemed.

"I want to see him."

The doctor simply nodded and motioned his arm as a response to tell (Y/n) that she could go into the room and see Ben. But she didn't know what she was going to be faced with. Was he going to be awake or still sedated? Would he be pleased to see her or would he push her away if he already knew what the doctor had said? Would he look pained or broken or would he be holding up okay? Would the sight of his burned body make her cry?

So many questions buzzed around in her head as she slowly pushed open the door and dared to look inside. Sure enough, there was her husband, sat up on the bed, his head swaying just a little which implied he hadn't been awake for very long.

He wasn't wearing a shirt which showed the extent of his injuries, his stomach and right side of his body were red and blistered with clear plasters stuck over them. His right arm had clear, tight sticking plasters around it as well as a roll of bandage. His hands were bandaged but his fingertips were still able to be seen and the skin there was as red as a ripe tomato.

But Ben's face was what made (Y/n) choke on a cry that alerted him of her presence. He had a cotton pad pressed over each eye and a thick role of bandage around his eyes to stop him from scratching them and to let them heal without anything else getting into them or causing an infection. But his forehead, his cheeks and just above his lips and on his nose were all red and blistering. He looked like someone had taken a blow torch to his face to try and melt off his skin.

"(Y/n)?" His voice was weak and croaky but his head turned in her direction and his hands reached out to try and feel the air, desperate for it to be his girl because he wanted her in his arms more than anything else in the world.

"Ben... oh God, what have they done to you?" (Y/n) could see double when the tears started to pile up underneath her eyes before they fell freely down her cheeks. Quickly heading over to his side, (Y/n) stood as close as she could to the bed before she reached out and very gently took his hands in hers to let him know she was there.

Moving one of her hands, (Y/n) managed to pluck up the courage to rest her hand on the side of his face, being mindful of the blisters and the bandages covering his skin. He wasn't going to be the same after this, he was going to be shell shocked, broken, bruised and scarred. The thought of the scars made her tears fall faster because if Ben did get his sight back, they meant he was never going to be able to forget this ordeal. They were going to be a painful reminder for him whenever he glanced in a mirror or a shop window or saw his reflection in a puddle. If he even got his sight back at all.

"I shouldn't have gone-"

"Sshh, it's okay. You did your job and it's over now, you're taking your time off and we're going to get you better." (Y/n) brushed her thumb over his cheek, biting down on her lip when he leaned into the touch. She could have lost him tonight, they could have called her and said he was caught in the fire and no one could save him. But he was alive, he had done his job and he got hurt but he was here with her now and she was thankful for that. He was only doing what he needed to, no one could have known this would have been the outcome.

"It hurts so bad." Ben whispered quietly, running his hand over her own when he heard her sobbing. He was desperate to blink or to cry or to feel the weight of the cotton being removed from his eyes. But his eyes were closed and they were weighted down, he felt the desperate urge to blink or just to twitch his eyes but he couldn't.

Ben moved his bandaged hands, skimming his free fingertips over her hands, up her arms and down her shoulders and sides until he could wind his battered and blistered arms around her waist like he was checking it was actually her. (Y/n) moved her arm so it was delicately placed over his shoulders when he rested his head against her stomach.

"I'm gonna see them, I have to."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Ben gripped Joe's hand with such a fierce grip that Joe was sure it must have reopened the blisters on his hands that were no longer protected by rolls of bandages. The blond had ripped the bandages from his hands in a fit of rage when they got in the way and prevented him from using his sense of touch to make his life easier. Ben couldn't feel things such as pages or a computer screen or the keys with the bandages on and only the very tips of his fingers visible. He couldn't have that skin contact with anyone with the rough edges of the bandage being in the middle.

He had tried to take the bandages off his eyes too until (Y/n) scolded him with her words and told him not to.

The blond held his head up as he strained his hearing to see if there was anyone else walking down the corridor or in his path as he pressed his left hand against the wall. Small sounds and gasps leaving his lips when he felt the smooth wall changing for a window frame and then a panel of glass that his fingers bumped against.

(Y/n) was in labour and there was no way that Ben was waiting in his hospital room for any news, he wanted to be there with her for support and to make sure everything went okay. He couldn't sit and wait for a delayed response because twiddling his thumbs like that was getting too anxiety-provoking. Nor would he allow Joe to take him down to the maternity ward in a wheelchair. He couldn't see, but he could be guided. Ben could walk perfectly fine and he wasn't going to sit and feel like an invalid.

"Turn a bit to your left... and we're here." Joe reached forward and knocked twice in the door before pushing it open. He held tightly to Ben's hand as he walked in and guided his friend inside, wishing Ben could have seen the look of shock and surprise that replaced the look of pain on (Y/n)'s features.

"Y-you promised you wouldn't have them without me." A small but noticeable, lopsided grin came onto Ben's features as his head turned in the direction he guessed (Y/n) was sat in. She couldn't have this baby without him being present, he wasn't missing this even if he couldn't see it happening.

"Get over here." (Y/n) choked out, feeling tears of happiness running down her face at the smile on Ben's lips that she hadn't seen for over a week now since he had been admitted here. Her eyes followed him as he blindly shuffled over with Joe's guidance. His still burned but healing hands reached out in front of him until they grasped onto the back of the chair set next to the bed. Ben slowly turned around and slowly eased himself down into the chair, thankful to be able to sit down again since his leg was hurting despite the morphine he had been dosed up with.

Ben held his hand out, hovering it over the bed until (Y/n) entangled her fingers with his own and tugged his hand closer to her chest so she could kiss the back of his hand.

Ben kept turning his head to the right when (Y/n) spoke or groaned or cried out in pain but his head was constantly turning to the left so he could listen to the midwife and wait anxiously for that cry he was desperate to hear that would tell him his little boy or girl had arrived. He always thought this moment was going to be so much different, he thought he would have driven him and (Y/n) down here and would have been there when labour started. He thought he would be telling her it was okay and watching the scene unfold. He thought he would be able to see their baby's face and hair and eye colour and look at them when he held them for the first time.

He didn't think he would be blind when (Y/n) went into labour.

(Y/n)'s head turned in Ben's direction as she watched him with curiosity when he let go of her hand so he could hold her hand with his other one. He trailed his now free hand over her hand, skimming his fingers up her arm and shoulder before he lightly pressed his hand over her chest. He was feeling her heartbeat that he could have sworn he could actually hear.

"Alright, they're almost here." Those words made Ben's frame turn rigid, what if he never got to see his baby? What if they resented the fact that he might not ever see them? What if being blind made him a bad father when he had wanted to be a dad for years now? What if he couldn't look after them like he wanted and needed to?

"It's okay, they're gonna love you almost as much as I do." (Y/n) whispered the words against the back of Ben's hand as quietly as she could manage whilst still knowing he would be able to pick up every word she said. She could see the worries circulating around in his head and she wanted to put a stop to them. If Ben never got his sight back, then they would manage and they would push on with their lives. He would still be the best dad possible and their child would love him unconditionally, blinded or not.

(Y/n) noticed Ben wincing when the baby cried but it wasn't out of fear or worry or shock, it was because of how loud it sounded in his now sensitive ears.

Without even thinking, Ben reached his left hand out towards the source of the crying, not caring that the midwife was obviously tending to their baby and to (Y/n) too. When his fingertips brushed against a small tuft of hair, Ben choked on air. He skimmed his fingers over the newborn's cheek before trailing over to their hand that was rubbing against their button nose. Ben couldn't find the ability to breathe when small fingers wrapped around his index finger, allowing him to rub his thumb over the back of the tiny hand holding onto his own.

"You have a baby boy." The midwife smiled, looking like she was about to burst into tears herself. But when she held the bundle out to (Y/n), the new mother shook her head.

"I want Ben to hold him first." Ben's hand was still stretched out even though their boy had since let go of him but his head snapped to turn to (Y/n) as his lips showed the shock he was feeling.

"I... I can't... I don't know what he looks like." Ben could feel the tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes even though they were tightly pressed shut. He didn't know what his baby boy looked like, feeling his hand or his features wasn't going to form a picture in his head that would do their baby justice. Ben didn't want to hold him because he knew he would breakdown the moment he did.

"I'll describe him to you."

The moment their boy was resting safely in Ben's arms, he started to breathe very shallowly as he could feel the newborn wriggling around in his arms trying to get comfy. Ben wished the bandages were removed so he could at least try and see his boy, but he started to shake when (Y/n) took hold of his hand and moved it so he was ruffling the small scruffs of hair on their boy's head.

"He has dirty blond hair just like yours, like little flecks of sand on his head." (Y/n) spoke quietly as she tightened her hand around Ben's, leaning her chin on his shoulder as his head was aimed down at their boy like he was staring at him through his bandages.

Gently moving Ben's hand again, (Y/n) held his index finger and ran his fingertip of their baby's nose and traced around his eyes.

"He has bright blue eyes and his nose is like yours. He has a rounded chin and pink chubby cheeks... he's looking up at you." (Y/n) pressed a kiss to Ben's cheek, feeling his shoulders shaking from sobs he was desperately trying to keep held in. A picture was beginning to form in Ben's head, but he was praying that soon he would no longer need his imagination to aid his picture. He wanted to be able to look down at his baby and see his features instead of having them described to him. Ben wanted to see his baby boy and his wife again, his memory and his imagination were never going to be enough.

"I'm going to see him soon, and I'm going to see you again. I don't want to be like this forever." Ben was determined that when these bandages came off his face, he was going to force his eyes to work no matter what he had to do. He needed to see, he had to see his baby boy and watch him grow up instead of having to hear his son's life like he was listening to a story on the radio. And Ben wanted to see (Y/n) again, he wanted to be able to look at his wife and see her rather than have blank eyes that stared right through her.

"Ben, we will both love you so much even if those bandages come off and you can't see us."

Ben could feel the tears trying so badly to get out of his eyes and it made a rush of anger wave through his whole body. This wasn't fair, this was Ben's life and he should have a say in how it went. He should decide that he wanted his eyes to work and he should have the right to see what his baby boy looked like. That fire had ruined Ben's arm, scarred the right side of his body and his face and it was trying to take his sight. It had already taken his job from him because Ben knew he couldn't be a firefighter anymore.

He needed his sight.

When his baby boy started to gurgle and wriggle in his arms, a groan of utter agony left Ben's lips as he let go of (Y/n)'s hand. He ever so gently settled his boy into (Y/n)'s arms before he reached around and dug his short nails into the bandage wrapped around his head.

"Ben stop it! Your eyes aren't healed yet- don't do that!" (Y/n) pleaded as she tried to grab his hand but he pulled away from her. He ripped the knot in the bandages and unravelled them from his eyes before he pulled the cotton pads away from his eyes carefully as they felt like they were glued to him.

(Y/n) pressed her free hand to her mouth as she couldn't stop the tears from leaving her eyes. She watched in horror and uncertainty as Ben tried to open his eyes that were still swollen but they weren't as bad as she thought they would be. If Ben tried to see now there was a big chance he wouldn't see anything at all, or maybe he would see something but trying and straining to see might make them worse. His eyes still needed another two or three weeks to heal properly but Ben couldn't wait that long.

He couldn't sit and hold his baby boy without knowing if he was ever going to see him or not. Ben wasn't walking around this hospital blind, trying to find his way to (Y/n) and their boy. He wanted to know now what his future held.

"Ben..." (Y/n) choked, reaching out to take his hand in her own as she wondered if he could see or not. His eyes were slowly turning side to side, up and down but his eyelids couldn't open all the way due to the swelling.

"I like you with your hair down." Ben mumbled quietly causing (Y/n) to reach up and run her hand through her hair that was beginning to get knotted and was dripping with sweat. He couldn't have known that unless he was looking at her.

"And I like your green eyes... but you need to get those bandages back on soon. You're not damaging those emerald orbs now that our boy's here." (Y/n) smiled and moved her arms out towards Ben so he could see their boy. She wanted him to see their baby, but she also wanted those bandages back on his eyes so Ben would let them heal. Now they had their answer and they couldn't jeopardise this by having Ben strain his eyes too much when they were still tender.

Ben looked at his boy and it was like he was looking through a coloured lens. He could see the world in black and white with speckles of bright red and blurred waves around the corners of his vision. Ben knew that his vision wasn't going to be perfect and he guessed it was going to be very poor, but it was still here and he was forever grateful for that.

"I can see."

[blackaquokat]

The Song You Might Have Been (Chapter 5)

Link to Chapter 1 and Chapter 4 !

A/N: This chapter is shorter than past ones, but somehow I don’t think you guys will mind, considering...well. You’ll see.

TW for another Attempted Murder. And an actual onscreen murder. 

---

You go right back to your cell. You don’t come out for dinner or the rest of the free time you’re allowed. 

Yancy doesn’t return to the cell either. 

Rex pops in, leaves beef jerky and apple slices on the little coffee table that also decorates your cell. 

“I’m not much of a cook myself,” Rex says to your back. “That’s my cousin’s specialty. He’s been working for the same rich bastard’s family for twenty years now, but on occasion he comes by to teach me a thing or two. Let me know if you want me to teach that Yancy dick a lesson.”

You mumble a thanks, but you don’t turn away from the wall. Your tears have long since dried up, but you’re in no shape to be interacting with anyone else.

The worst part? There is the smallest part of you that thinks...you could probably be happy here. With Yancy and Tiny and Rex and Jimmy and everyone else. Sure, you could do without the constant fear of getting shiv-ed in the shower, but you also deal with the fear of getting killed at home. On the way to and from work. In your office. Living in fear of getting killed over your ethnicity and gender (or lack thereof) is par the course, but at least here you’ve built up the kind of reputation where the backlash to your death would actually cause a stir outside of your professional influence.

If--when you get out of Happy Trails Penitentiary, you’re going to miss these people. At least you can rest with the knowledge that a few of them have your back.

You hear someone else stroll down the hall. Notable, since the cells are all empty right now. It might just be Rex or maybe someone else checking in on you. Still...you’ve been lying here for about half an hour, you should probably get up. 

As you start to do so, a length of cloth suddenly pops in front of your vision and tightens around your throat. 

The air knocks out of you as you’re dragged from the bed and land hard on the floor. You can’t get a look at your assailant and struggle to slip your fingers under the cloth to get it away from your throat and panic rises in your chest and you can’t breathe, you stretch out a different arm and scratch at whatever part of your assailant you can reach. All you get for your efforts are grunts of pain and the cloth tightening further on your trachea, but then your arm reaches back even further in a last-ditch attempt and you manage to crack your knuckles into his nose and listen to your assailant cry out, but your vision is already blackening and you have enough time to think, this is it, this is it, Mom, I’m so sorry, I--

“EAGLE!!”

The cloth jerks and then drops and you fall to the floor in a heap, hand going for your bruised throat. You roll over and try to climb to your feet. Tiny is on your assailant’s back, legs wrapped around his abdomen while her arms have him in a deadly chokehold. The assailant spins and rams her into the wall of the cell, knocking over the small nightstand and the lamp. Tiny clings tighter through the pain in her face but after three more hits into the wall, she drops her grip and falls to the floor while you’re still regaining your breath and reaching for the lamp (it’s the nearest and closest thing to a weapon in your reach). 

Your assailant turns back to you and pulls out a shiv but then Yancy comes barrelling out of nowhere and stabs the guy in the stomach with his own shiv.

Your assailant drops to the floor in a bloody heap. Yancy kneels beside him and turns him onto his back. “How about you tell me why youse just tried to off my friend here, and I’ll consider endin’ your life a little sooner. Cut youse’s suffering short, ya know?”

The assailant gurgles before looking at you with a sinister grin. “You know exactly who sent me.” He starts to laugh and you only have a moment to be unsettled by this reaction before Yancy reaches out and slices the shiv across his throat.

You shut your eyes and press the heel of one hand against your eyes while your other hand continues rubbing at your throat. You feel someone touch your shoulder.

“Hey, Eagle,” Tiny whispers. “Let me get you to the doc, okay?”

You’re stuck in a daze as you let Tiny lead you from the cell. 

You almost died. In a far more horrific way than bleeding out from a shiv. You’ve seen too many of these cover-ups come across your desk before. 

You almost died. Again.

But what’s even worse is that your attacker wasn’t another inmate. But he was someone you’ve seen in the prison before.

He was a guard.

---

“I was telling off the boss for his behavior,” Tiny explains later, while the doctor looks you over. “I told him he overreacted and that you hadn’t done anything to deserve his bitchiness. He didn’t take it well, but I didn’t care and I came to look for you…” She looks down. “Maybe if I hadn’t stuck around to yell at him, I would have found you sooner--”

“You--” Just the one word hurts like a bitch coming out of your damaged trachea. You clear your throat and try again. “You saved me, Tiny. Thank you.” One of your arms spreads out, a silent offer, and to your surprise, she smiles and steps into your embrace.

Is this what it’s like to have a sister?

The thought hurts almost as much as your throat.

You don’t see Yancy until you’re escorted back to your cell by Tiny and Rex after getting the “okay” by the doctor. He’s standing by the bars, waiting for you. Arms crossed, head ducked. He looks oddly contrite. 

Not that you’re noticing very much, considering you’re still shell-shocked by the assassination attempt and the implications behind a prison guard making the attempt.

But when you’re inside, Yancy puts his hand at your elbow and leads you to the bunk while Rex escorts Tiny down to her cell. You exchange a grateful nod with her before sitting down on your bed. 

Yancy sits down next to you. “I...I...” he shakes his head. “Youse almost died here.”

If it didn’t hurt to speak, you would have had a lot to say in response to such an obvious statement. As it is, all you manage is, “Hadn’t noticed.”

“I shoulda been here,” Yancy insists. “I shouldn’t have…” You see him look at you out of the corner of your eye. His gaze lingers on the facial injuries you sustained from your fight with him. “I’m sorry.”

If you were in a better mindset, you could have appreciated the significance of Yancy apologizing. But all you can think to say at that moment is, “You were there. You and Tiny. You saved me.” You shake your head, tears falling down your face for the second time that day, for the love of God. “Our last interaction wasn’t that stupid fight, at least.”

A shuddering breath leaves Yancy at that. You take that to mean he feels the same about the situation. 

“Yancy.” Your voice sounds so hoarse. “A guard tried to kill me.”

“I know.”

“I wasn’t safe before. But if any guard here can also get me…” You bite your lip, then wince as the action stretches a cut on your chin. By chance, you reach back and rest your hand on the blanket behind you. Your eyes widen in horror and feel around the bed frantically.

“My notebook is gone.”

“What?”

You stand and glance frantically around the cell space. “My notebook, I always have it either on that table or hiding in my bed-sheets, it was here before I was attacked, and now it’s gone.”

Yancy stands up, an unsettling realization slowly shaping his face. “What exactly was in that notebook, Eagle?”

“That’s just it!” You hiss back to him. “Nothing incriminating for anyone! I hid my mom’s picture in there!” That reminder is particularly panic-worthy. “It’s a list of books inmates are asking for, other possible improvements that can be made to Happy Trails, the only thing I can think of is--” You stutter to a stop and fall back onto the edge of the bed. “Oh God.”

“What?”

“I...I just wrote up a list of people I could probably talk to about grants that could be used for Happy Trails. That’s the only thing I can think of that would make someone take it. Only one person in the entire prison could benefit from that kind of list.”

Yancy’s eyes narrow into something dangerous and he starts rattling the bars of the cell. “Rex! I need to speak to the Warden!”

“What?!” Rex shouts back from the end of the hallway. “Now?”

“Yes, now!”

---

Even though you insisted on joining him, Yancy made you stay in the cell. You obey, because you are so damn tired and wrung out, the idea of confronting the warden over your notebook might be a little much for you.

But it means sitting in a cell. Alone. The same cell you were almost murdered in. A double-edged sword. You feel as though you’re going to sink through the floor into the darkness and let it choke you up until the moment Yancy is escorted back. 

The grim looks on Yancy and Rex’s faces are not encouraging.

“What are the odds that the warden will put me in protective custody after he stole my notebook of financial backers? Or that he’ll at least give me back that picture of my mom?”

Yancy’s silence is all the answer you need.

“Yeah. Thought so.” Your eyes shut as Rex shuts the door and leaves you and Yancy alone again. “I’ve seen a lot of shit in here. He probably thinks I’ll...I don’t know, blackmail him or report his crappy operation.” You suck in a breath. It catches at the ache in your throat. “Odds that I’ll survive until the next Visitation?”

“Eagle--”

“Maybe I should start carrying a shiv around. Not like I’ve got ready access to a scalpel, like my mom did when she was an army nurse.” You are seconds away from sobbing hysterically, but you can’t stop yourself from talking even as it hurts your throat. “At least at home, I had my favorite pair of scissors when I was attacked, but there is no way I’m going to have access to any here, and those were almost as long as shears--”

“Eagle, hey--”

“That asshole was going to hang me in this cell,” you hiss, suddenly. “He was going to fake my suicide.”

Yancy winces. Then he nods.

“I...I don’t mind being here,” you admit, barely above a whisper, and not just because it still hurts to speak. “I like fixing up the new library collection, I like the connections I’ve made, I...I like that I’m not alone. Felt like I was always alone before, even with Mom and Damien…” You laugh in disbelief and give a groan of pain a moment later. “But, and I can’t believe I’m saying this...I’m not ready to die yet. Funny, considering I think I’ve been ready for most of my life, but...not like this. Not for someone else’s greed.” Your arms wrap around your waist, as if you can keep your molecules from flying apart in a fit of panic. “I don’t know what to do.”

“That’s fine, Eagle.” Yancy slides closer to you, puts his hand on your shoulder. “I’ve got a plan.”

You finally make direct eye contact with him, for the first time since your fistfight. He looks determined and intense. “Does this plan involve bundling me away into Solitary?”

“I’ll tell youse about it later,” Yancy squeezes your shoulder and you’re astonished by the comfort drumming through you at the gesture. “You need some sleep.”

Your laugh is disbelieving again. “I don’t think I can fall asleep tonight, Yancy. I keep feeling that damn pillowcase around my neck.”

Yancy is silent for a moment. He clears his throat. “Youse, uh...youse want me to stay up? With you?”

Your body starts to tremble in earnest. You drop your head into Yancy’s shoulder, wrap your shaking arms around his waist, and finally let yourself sob quietly. If Yancy is at all uncomfortable or disgusted by this turn of events, he doesn’t make any indication of it. He’s stiff for mere seconds before one of his arms goes around you and pats at your arm in an awkward staccato. 

(Dimly, you wonder when was the last time this man properly hugged anyone, or when he was last hugged himself. You’ve gone almost a month now without physical affection from your mom or Damien and the skin hunger is hitting you particularly hard now.)

You don’t remember falling asleep. You just remember feeling safe, calm, utterly exhausted, and listening to feeling the beat of Yancy’s pulse as your head drops into the crook of his neck.

---

Link to Chapter 5 !

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[stanathanxoox]

Opening Up

gif is mine

Anonymous said:

Would you be able to write a Carlisle x Teen reader (plutonic), Where she’s a troubled kid always ditching school getting into fights and stuff so seeing her in the hospital isn’t uncommon and she’s always snappy and cold. One night she’s smoking by her bike and and he pulls over to talk to her and after some one sided conversation he gets through to her and she’s been kicked out so he takes her under his wing and after weeks she opens up a little (you can finish it)❤️

Carlisle sighed as he saw your file sitting in the patient box outside the emergency door, this was the fourth time in as many weeks, he was beginning to worry about you and your well-being and if that wasn't bad enough, the report from his children was that you were ditching school again. Composing himself he walks into the room and gives you a soft smile

“Y/N, we really must stop meeting like this. So what can I do for you this time?” you just shrug, and he flips through to the newest entry in your file, typed up and printed out by the nurse who had seen you when you'd first arrived.

“Right so a broken rib and potential for a punctured lung sent for an MRI but waiting doctor approval, I can do that” he says as he reads the report out loud. You found it oddly calming when he talked, and though you hated the world so much right now, being away from the horror that was your life in a safe place was where you needed to be, though you would never let anyone know that your walls had to stay up, they just had to, no matter how much pain you were in.

“So, I will go and authorise that MRI for you Miss Y/L/N, and then I will check the results and come back and see you”. He says, leaving the room.

He was right, you had broken a rib, but thankfully it hadn't punctured anything. You were grateful for that, and the pain relief that was coursing through your veins as you stood outside the hospital by your bike, a couple of hours later. The cigarette that you had rolled yourself was tightly held in your grip before you hear someone call out to you.

“Y/N” a voice calls, and you immediately tense up, wincing at the pain that causes, a hiss escaping your lips, until you turn and find the doctor walking towards you.

“What are you still doing here? You should be resting” he says and you just stare at him, letting his words and his presence wash over you. When he realises he's not going to get you to say anything to that he says

“How's school, I remember you telling me a couple of weeks ago that you had a big test coming up?” he states and you shrug, he tries again asking

“What about that novel you were reading City of Bones? Was that any good?” you just stare at him. He sighs before he says

“I do wish that you would be more careful Y/N, I worry about you, your such a fragile little thing and I see you so much in the emerge-”

“They kicked me out of home!” you say as the walls you thought you'd built so well crumble

“What do you mean Y/N?” he asks and you let out a small sob

“My parents, they kicked me out I have nowhere to go” you say and he nods

“Would you like to come and stay with me and my family? I'm sure you know my children from school” he says and your jaw drops, you hadn't been expecting that from anyone, let alone him. You can only nod.

For weeks you stayed with the Cullens, beginning to heal, both physically and emotionally, though Rosalie was a bit hesitant around you, everyone was incredibly friendly towards you, you kept on watching though, waiting for you to slip up one time and for them to lose the plot and kick you out or the abuse you like your family had like your boyfriend had. You started to go to school more regularly as well and when your teachers started praising you in class again you finally felt the change, you felt human again. It was abnormally quiet when you returned to the Cullen household this particular afternoon, you knew that Edward was with Bella, but the others had said something about going away for the weekend. You walk into your room and gasp when you find Carlisle standing in your room. Clutching at your chest you say

“Jesus Carlisle you gave me a fright, I didn't think anyone would be home”. He turns to you and gives you a sad smile

“I needed to stay home with you. I couldn't risk them coming to find you” he says and you shake your head

“Who? Who didn't you want to find me?” you ask frantically

“Your mother, she came to the hospital and told one of the nurses that she was looking for you, she was threatening to call the police and everything, I intervened and told her that you were being taken care of but she wasn't very pleased” he admits. Your blood runs cold when you hear him say that.

“You mean she's out there looking for me right now?” you whisper, dropping to the ground.

“Y/N, it's okay, she's not going to hurt you. Nobody will ever again” Carlisle says dropping down in front of you

“You don't know what they're capable of. I've been in and out of the system for years Carlisle, because of the abuse I faced when I stayed with my parents. They used to beat on me and throw me against different walls of the house, I've been bashed with a baseball bat so many times I don't even have a fear of them anymore. And it's not just them, it's my ex-boyfriend as well. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to drag you and your family into all of this” you say, voice surprisingly calm as the tears stream down your cheeks. Carlisle wraps his arms around you causing you to tense, but he doesn't let go, he just holds you until you relax. In his strong arms, you finally break down, letting the years of anguish and torture escape.

“Ssh, it's okay Y/N. We will find a way to make them pay for what they've done to you. I know some good lawyers who will not let your case fall through the cracks or we can up and leave right now and escape. But most of all know that you have a loving and supportive family here who care about you and want nothing but to see you be happy and safe” Carlisle says and you nod.

You manage to cry yourself to sleep and when you wake up you find yourself asleep in your bed, still dressed in the clothes you had been in before, but you lookup to see not one set of eyes but eight sets of worried eyes looking at you

“So what do you say Y/N? Want to be a Cullen?” Emmett asks and you smile at him before looking around at the others

“Are you sure? I mean I don't want to be a burden on any of you” you say and they all smile at you

“You're not a burden Y/N, but the choice is yours. We want you as a part of our family, you know our secret so that choice is yours to make as well” Esme says and you gasp

“Wait? You'd turn me into a vampire?” you ask and Carlisle nods

“If that was something you wanted then we could do so” he says and you nod

“I think maybe, in a couple of years,” you say and they all nod, even Rosalie doesn't seem so against this idea.

“Well, will you join us?” Jasper says and you nod

“I would love to join you” you say with a smile, before turning to look at Carlisle again

“Do you think we could report my parents? Do what you suggested?” you ask and he nods

“I'm sure we can have Charlie here in an hour and then we'll discuss taking your parents to court. Do you give me permission to access your medical records and give copies of them to Charlie to back your case?” Carlisle asks and you nod

“I will give you anything you want to know, you can have my diary for all I care” you say and they all nod. Alice pipes up

“It's alright Y/N, I know you're anxious now but this will all be resolved soon enough” she says and you nod a true smile gracing your lips as you look at the people around your bed. This was your future, a future you couldn't wait to live.

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[bbrandy2002]

The Fall of Cordonia

Chapter Two-Let Mercy Come

Book: The Royal Heir

Summary: More characters fall victim to the attack. Liam makes an uncertain decision. Bradshaw's plan for Riley begins. Leo makes a grand entrance.

A/N: This is dark and may be difficult to read, so just a heads up. Due to the subject matter, this will not be a long series. Thanks for pre-reading @burnsoslow and tossing around ideas @sirbeepsalot

Warning: Character deaths mentioned. Gun violence and profanity.

Characters belong to Pixelberry.

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With white flashes of fluorescent and the nauseating smells of burnt flesh and antiseptic, Drake suddenly became aware of his surroundings and bleak reality. He is pushed past rows of stretchers, lining the corridor of the hospital, each carrying victims of a senseless attack...the dead, the dying and the damned. He was thrust briskly against a wall, to now take his place amongst them.

As the frenzied hands of medical staff ripped at his shirt and inspected his wounds, he could hardly feel any pain as the sound of sorrow incapacitates his senses. Drake attempts to reach up and cover his ears, to deafen the sting of the anguish that lavished the air, only to have them pushed back down at his side.

If the horror of his environment weren't harsh enough, thoughts of Maxwell dying overcame him, as the dried blood on his face had been mixed with the fresh blood of his friend.  Then there was Riley, what had become of her fate after being seized by crazed soldiers, all too exhilerated by her capture. Would they kill her...torture her...violate her? He wallows in speculation while a large part of him wishes the needle that was injecting pain medicine into his veins would pierce his heart, at least it would end his torment.

While waiting with dozens of other souls in a triage area, Drake catches a glimpse of Bertrand, wandering without aim, shell shock etched across his disconcerted face, as he continues his trek. Drake attempts to let out a hallowed call, fearing now for the welfare of his sister and nephew.

Bertrand is brought out of his daze after he hears Drake's pleas and he turns quickly, hopeful its a doctor with news of Savannah's surgery.

Panicked, Bertrand explains with much sorrow, that Savannah was shot at the Valtorian estate, while he and Hakim were riding the nearby nature trails the Queen had recently opened. Bartie was with a nanny, visiting the menagerie and he had yet to hear from them. All decorum was lost, as his eyes frantically beg the door to open, revealing a very much alive and unharmed toddler, he curses loudly with each disappointment.

With hands gripped firmly to the railing of Drake's stretcher, Bertrand struggles to remain on his feet; he wants to collapse, but, can't let go of hope, not yet. He suddenly senses an absence, someone was gone from his life, and an unsettled feeling causes him to become frantic.

"Where's Maxwell?".

The same hot tears that formed after the destruction, found themselves covering Drake's eyes again. He swallows hard, willing himself to succumb to the medication and take him away to a dreamland, one where he doesn't have to break such heartbreaking news.

Bertrand's eyes search Drake's, he could see it, he could feel it, and he knew where his brother was. With his head bobbing, barely able to hold itself up, "Please Drake....tell me Maxwell is okay?"

Drake closes his eyes tightly and shakes his head, fuck, "I'm so sorry Bertrand...Maxwell... is gone".

Bertand tilts his head back, staring blankly, taking deep, painful breaths....

"Maxwell, hit the brakes!", shouted a 10 year old Bertrand, as his 5 year old, little brother, went skidding across concrete on his bicycle. Maxwell had begged their father to teach him how to ride for months, but, finally gave up after hearing, yet again, he didn't have time. Bertrand, who hated the outdoors, watched in amusement from his bedroom window, as his brother, made an attempt to teach himself.

He made his way down the staircase and out the front door to the long and winding driveway that led to their home.

"Bubby...I can teach you to ride if you want".

Maxwell's eyes beamed, he loved it when his big brother spent time with him.

After hitting the pavement, Bertrand checked on and kissed his "boo boo", just like their mother did. He helped him get back up and encouraged him to try it one more time, while he held on to the handle bars to steady the bike.

Slowly he took off, Bertrand guiding him along, then faster....faster...release. Maxwell rides off by himself, laugher filling the air, the wind blowing through his brown locks, sweeping in all directions.

"I'm doing it Bertrand....look at me".

With a large smile, Bertrand jumped with his hands above his head, celebrating along with his brother, "I see you Max...I told you it was easy".

He watched Maxwell peddle down the driveway, swerving to miss rocks and loose sticks. When he finished, he hopped off his bike, letting it fall to the ground and ran to Bertrand. Maxwell grabbed his older brother and attempted to lift him up to share his happiness and victory. Bertrand chuckled, "I don't think you can do that bubby".

"Thank you Bertrand, you're the best brother ever!", he exclaimed excitedly, while hugging him around the waist.

"You're the best brother too, Max".

The air surrounding Bertrand turned ice cold as his heart literally broke into a million pieces. He whispers somberly to himself, "My bub... is gone?". 

Drake gave him a sympathetic nod, as a tired and worn doctor approaches, wearing his fraught emotions on his sleeve, "Duke Beaumont".

Due to the number of victims waiting for surgery, the doctor shared the news of Savannah's death openly, rather than opt for a quieter location. Just as soon as the words were spoken, the doctor hurriedly rushes back to the operating theater to attend to the next, of his many patients.

Drake tries to bolt up, however, the effects of his medicated state was hitting him like a ton of bricks, he was woozy and heavy. Making every effort to yell for his sister, his voice was muffled and unclear. What the fuck is going on...what the fuck.

Bertrand collapses to his knees with a hard thud, no longer having the will or strength to live.

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

After several hours of anxiety induced waiting, the two guards that had been sent by Bastien to check the safety of the palace grounds, finally return to the bunker.

They shared the grim news of the status of Palace staff, however, the occupation of the city by Auvernal appeared to be retracted.

Bastien led Liam through the tunnels, secret passages, and finally through a wall book shelf  that opened into Liam's office.

The stench of death was overwhelming as it mixed with the smoke of nearby fires. Liam covered his nose with his hand, shocked by the appearance of his pillaged study. He glanced over the room with purpose as he walked around it, taking in the damage, before running to the entryway, to check on the body that laid still on the floor.

He knelt down beside the blonde haired woman, littered with holes throughout her slender physique, and slowly pushed her over onto her back, "Madeleine?"

Rubbing his hands over his face, she was his first taste of the brutality that awaits him outside his confines. His thoughts were  swirling with trepidation, he was the King of this country and the weight of this dilemna fell squarely on his shoulders. He stood to peak out the window behind his desk, the crunch of glass under his shoes following him. Liam pushes aside the broken blinds and can't believe the sight of his once beautiful country in desolation. Smolder and ash, painted the once pristine view of the sea and sirens blared in all directions.

Bastien instantly began trying to re-establish communication, he wasn't certain what Liam's plans were at this point, however, outside assistance was needed promptly. Within minutes, he is able to tap into the palace's backup cell and internet generators, "Your Majesty, we are connected again".

Liam has never considered taking a life, he never felt it was necessary or needed. How can he punish innocent people for the actions of one man.....

******

"King Bradshaw, I apologize for interrupting your breakfast, but, the Cordonian Queen is settled in her room", a servant exclaimed.

Bradshaw wiped the corner of his mouth, remaining composed, "Very well, see that nurses attend to her injuries and I will pay our guest a visit following my meal.......oh, and make sure the video feed is ready".

"Yes, sir".

******

Liam had a decision to make, he knew he didn't have the manpower to do it with though. He paced the room, feeling powerless and weak. On the floor, were shattered photos, that of his wedding, his son, his late mother, he bends down and wipes away the broken glass and dirty bootprints that left their symbol on each one.

Across the room, laid Madeleine, still hanging onto an eery death stare, as Bastien covered her with the throw from Liam's sofa.

He leaned on his desk, sweating profusely and feeling the grime in the air penetrate his flesh. Anger could not cloud his judgement, but, damn if he didn't want revenge.

A King's guard knocks loudly on the doorframe of Liam's study, the door still held open by the late Countess. He bows, "Your Majesty", he says slightly out of breath.

"What is it Paul?"

The guardsman steps to the side, as another guard, holding a woman in his arms enters.

Liam's eyes widen with astonishment and disgust as her face falls to the side, revealing her identity. He nearly loses his mind as he begins running both hands through his matted, disheveled hair.

"Bastien....get the Italian Prime Minister on the phone...".

******

Bradshaw had finished his breakfast and was eager to check in on Riley, still hopeful that Liam would contact him soon, now positive he survived the attack.

A flustered guard walks into the dining room, bowing before Bradshaw, "Your Majesty, Leo Rhys is insistent that he meet with you,now....shall I kill him or let him in?".

King Bradshaw burst into laughter, quite amused by this surprise,  "Absolutely not....I would love to hear from this...has been...please send him in at once".

Bradshaw hustles to the dining room safe, opening it and pulling out a silver .50 caliber hand gun. He holds it up before him, twisting it in his hands, admiring its power and lethal prowess.

The door bursts open with vigor and Leo searches the room, his eyes landing on the small statured man with the blood of his countrymen on his hands.

"Mother Fucker!!!", Leo yells and then lunges forward with vengence.

Bradshaw aims the gun in his direction and pulls the trigger, releasing a powerful burst of energy that thrust Leo to the floor. "You were saying?".

******

Liam turns to Bastien, uncertain of his decision, but, now completely obsessed with retalliation. With Queen Isabella and their young children in Paris, he felt this was the time to strike.

"Italian bombers are en route to Auvernal....its time for payback", Liam says with waning optimism.

"What about civilians, sir?", Bastien asked with concern.

"I've asked that only military installations be the target, as well as, a special surprise for Bradshaw", he pauses for a moment, "...he and his palace are about to be obliterated".

[aworldoffandoms]

Diagnostic Principles

Chapter 1 –  One Shot, Two Shot...

Authors Note: Hello everyone! I bring you my first ever Open Heart fic! It is a collaborative effort with the lovely and widely talented, @cynicalworlds and I cannot be more excited to go on this writing journey with her! It’s gonna be so much fun! 

Hope you all enjoy it as much as we had fun writing it!

***

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC [Nicolette Valentine]

Word Count: 2, 254

Rating: M (violence, gun violence, blood)

DISCLAIMER: Mention of guns, violence and blood and there may be sensitive subjects/mental health issues explored so some instances in this story might be triggering for some people. Very likely to become NSFW in the near future so anyone who isn’t over 18...maaayybe you shouldn’t read this. Wait a couple years. This story is for mature audiences only so if you cannot handle the subject matters that might be explored -- this isn’t the story for you. Again, please be aware that this story can be triggering to some. You have been warned. 

Summary: A terrible incident has occurred at Edenbrook which puts Ethan and Nicolette in the line of fire...

Tagging people in my normal tag list for TRR because I’m guessing some of you enjoy Open Heart apart from TRR/TRH (hehe). However, if you don’t want to be notified let me know and I’ll remove you or just tell me if you’d like to be added to this OH story :)

Tags: @hopefulmoonobject @annekebbphotography @am-i-invisible777 @blznbaby @khakie4 @lauradowning29 @blackcoffee85 @captain-kingliamsqueen @moneyfordiamonds @super-secret-fandom-blog @jovialyouthmusic @zaffrenotes @ao719 @umccall71 @carabeth @furiousherringoperatortoad @pixieferry @pixelpenny @rainbowsinthestorm @dcbbw @thecordoniandiaries

Disclaimer: All rights reserved to Pixelberry and all characters belong to them. 

CHAPTER ONE - ONE SHOT, TWO SHOT...

Ethan paces the length of their patient's room, his sturdy feet wearing a steady path in the freshly laid laminate floor of the Diagnostics Department. He checks his watch, the polished steel sword-shaped hands ticking over, and shakes his head. Come on, Rookie. 

“Where is she? I sent her down to the lab with those samples over forty-five minutes ago.” 

He stops at the door and pinches the bridge of his nose. She’s the only person that he trusts to get the job done and she’s already failing him with her ineptitude and incompetence. 

He exits the room, long legs carrying him across the corridor to the nurse's station. He clears his throat, he knows that they barely tolerate his attitude some days, and he’s already working against the clock with this one. 

“Marie, would you please call down to the labs and see what is taking Doctor Valentine so long? She should have been back fifteen minutes ago.”

Marie holds her hand up, her index finger raised as if to pause him right there. She’s flicking through her inbox, absorbed in the details of an important email, and he watches her face turns ashen, the blood drains from her features and she looks — pale. 

He furrows his brow and cocks his head to the side. 

“Something the matter?” 

She’s silent and still for a moment, not sure what she should say to him. When she does look up at him, her eyes are softer, somehow — sympathetic. 

“Marie, what’s going on?” 

He doesn’t have time to waste. 

“Doctor Ramsey, the second floor is on lockdown. We’ve just been advised that there’s a man with a gun in the build...”

He doesn’t give her a chance to finish the rest of the sentence. He’s sprinting down the hall to the fire escape, descending the stairs two at a time. 

She’s three floors below him. She’s on the second floor because he’d sent her there no less than three-quarters of an hour ago. 

His coat tails flare behind him like a cape, but he doesn’t feel like a superhero, he feels like a fraud. 

He’s fueled by adrenaline, triggered by fear, and it gives him uncanny strength and speed, even though his heart is in his mouth and the blood rushes in his ears, the rhythm louder than he has ever heard it. 

His palm jabs frantically at the industrial handle and he pushes through the double doors, chaos on the other side. 

“Mister Platt, please. If you’ll just talk to me, I’m sure we can come to some kind of understanding.”

That’s her voice, he’d know it anywhere. He craves it, after having had her in his bed, in his arms, after losing the intimacy that they had waited so long for, the anticipation was almost too much to bear at times, there’s no way he could mistake her for somebody else. 

“Platt. Of course.” 

He spits the name like venom from a viper, his hands ball into fists at his side and he slows his steps as he approaches, trying to diffuse the situation so that nobody gets hurt, least of all, her. 

Ethan extends both hands in front of his body, palms flat and outstretched, long fingers flexed so that he’s displaying neutral posture, he’s not a threat, but he slowly creeps closer to Nicolette, inch by agonising inch. 

“Nigel, why don’t you let Doctor Valentine go and we can talk about this, man to man.” 

The obese man shakes his head, brandishing his weapon. 

“I told you I’d be back, and I told you that you’d be sorry. You two treated me like an idiot, and all you have to say is let’s talk this over like men? No, I’m done talking, Doctor Ramsey. No. More. Talking.” 

Nigel points the pistol at Nicolette’s chest, and she gasps, turns to look at Ethan over her shoulder, sadness etched into her face, in the furrow of her brow and the brimming tears in her eyes. 

It all happens in the blink of an eye, Ethan launches himself across the room, leaping in front of his charge, one arm raised to shield his face as two pops can be heard, echoing throughout the room. 

The first bullet ricochets off his watch, bouncing off the solid sapphire crystal face, and catching Nicolette in the abdomen. 

The second bullet penetrates Ethan’s chest and nestles right next to his heart, shattering his sternum and making him gasp. 

White-hot pain lances through him and fogs his brain as he stares down at his chest and then collapses hard against the linoleum floor. He looks above him in muted horror, his mouth agape in a silent scream. Chaos reigns around him as he lies there, his torso broken and bleeding with no chance of it stopping. He can’t do anything. 

He’s just been shot. 

Goddamnit, Nigel. 

A shadow falls over Ethan as he stares up at the fluorescent lights of Edenbrook, trying to gasp for air. 

Nigel stands over him with a snarl, his chubby face twists in an ugly show of rage. “Talking is for women, Ramsey. You should know that. Now you’ll pay the price. Your whole hospital will.” 

Ethan’s blue eyes widen as he realises the implications of Nigel’s words. 

Is he really going to shoot up the whole hospital? 

Nigel tips the barrel of the gun against his temple but Ethan does not flinch away. “I have half a mind to blow your brains out but…” 

The P.I.T.A sighs forlornly as if what he said next was a true inconvenience for him. “Now I’ve got to find that fine ass looking Chief of yours and do away with her as I did with Valentine. You're practically dead anyway. No use beating an already dead horse.” 

At his words, Ethan glances to the last place he saw her. Ethan’s chest burns like fire but all he wants to do is run to Nicolette. To check to see if she was okay. She has to be okay. From the angle of his head, he can see that blood is accumulating on her white lab coat, the cotton material drenched with it.

She clutches at her stomach as she slowly sinks to the ground, her face marred with agonising pain. 

I need to go to her! Nicolette needs me! 

Nigel smiles a cruel smile as he nudges the barrel against Ethan’s forehead before standing up and heading towards the stairs that led to the upper levels of the hospital where the neurological department resided. 

“It was nice knowing ya, Ramsey!” 

The floor is silent as Nigel ascends the stairs and an echo of a door as it shuts. Nothing happens until a scream filters through his ears and his head snaps to the side and latches on to his co-worker, her red hair matted with blood and her torso drenched with red liquid.

It registers to him that the scream had come from Nicolette and that she is kneeling over him, her face etched in terror. 

“Ethan! Look at me!” 

His gaze finds hers and he smiles, seeing her blue eyes shine with new unshed tears somehow calms him. 

“What the hell were you thinking?! You can’t just dive in front of people like that! It’s stupid!” Nicolette’s voice is filled with righteous anger yet underneath the words she is utterly terrified. 

Maybe it was stupid but he had to. She was his Rookie. No-one was more important to him in that split second than her. 

“Ethan, we have to get you somewhere safe. I need to work on you.” 

Nicolette’s voice shakes as she speaks, her hands frantically skirt around the wound of Ethan’s chest, trying to find leeway in how to fix the problem at hand. Ethan can see her mind ticking away at the diagnoses and warmth spreads through him when her eyes light up.

She knows what to do. 

Nicolette puts a bloody palm to Ethan’s cheek, her gaze meets his and she looks at him softly, her eyes shining with the same emotions they did back when he first had her cradled against him.

“Please, don’t die on me, Ethan. Please. I beg of you. You have to fight. For me? Please—”

She sucks in a sharp breath, her hands going to her abdomen, her eyes widening in shock. Nicolette whimpers and she snaps her eyes shut against the pain.

She sways to the side as if a sudden dizzy spell has overcome her. 

“Woah, hey, come on now, beautiful.”

Bryce kneels beside both of them, drawing a shaky hand through his hair as he tries to assess the situation. There’s so much blood. Nicolette’s hands are stained crimson, sticky and warm. 

Her eyelids feel so heavy, like she just wants to close her eyes and sleep for a week, but she snaps herself out of it, knowing that she has to remain focused on the task at hand if they’re going to help Ethan. 

“Bryce, Ethan was shot. He needs surgery. We have to get him to an OR before he goes into hemorrhagic shock.”

She struggles to pull the lab coat from her shoulders, cursing when the fabric sticks to the crook of her elbow, and she finds herself stuck, like she’s wearing a straight jacket, which wouldn’t be all that inappropriate given the fact that her — that Ethan is bleeding out on the ground right in front of her eyes. 

“Nicolette, we can’t move him. You’re injured and he’s too heavy, the bullet could move and do permanent damage if we even try.”

Tearing off her coat, she folds it into something more manageable and applies pressure to Ethan’s chest. She ignores the painful spasms that crest through her body, involuntary contractions that can only mean one thing. 

“Nic…”

He coughs, and splutters, dark red rivulets of blood seep from his pursed lips and trickle down his chin. 

“Shh. Save your energy, Ethan. I’m right here.” 

He holds her gaze, and she hopes that he can’t see the pain, the fear, the sorrow that is written all over her face. 

“Ethan!”

Harper's voice carries across the space between them as she darts across the room, her arms filled with medical supplies. 

“Doctor Emery, what’s going on?” Bryce questions, his voice tight.

"What we have is a GSW to the chest and a shrapnel wound to the abdomen and we are going to fight like hell to save these two. You hear me?" 

As his eyes adjust to the atmosphere around him he catches a glimpse of the tan surfer-boy type surgical resident, Ethan guesses he’s one of Nicolette’s friends, as he frantically tends to her wounds or tries to at least. 

Ethan’s stomach twists with dread for Nicolette as fear courses through each syllable out of the surgical resident’s mouth. “Nicolette? Nicolette! Stay with me. You’re gonna be alright, okay? Doctor Emery! I can’t stop the bleeding! We need to take her to an OR, now!”

“Bryce… having a miscarriage. Help Ethan… nothing you can do for me.” 

Ethan can’t see her, but he can hear her. He tries to reach for her, but the simple action of elbow extension is excruciating. 

He blinks against the harsh flare of blinding light and tries again. It’s useless, he’s useless, he couldn’t keep her safe and he can’t lift a finger to comfort her. 

Miscarriage. A baby. Had he heard her correctly? His head is so fuzzy, like it’s stuffed full of cotton wool. 

“I’m a little busy here, Lahela!” 

As more orderlies arrive upon the scene, Nicolette and Ethan are ceremoniously hoisted up onto gurneys. They don’t have much time, fifteen minutes had already passed, and time is of the essence.

Though Ethan’s focus is on Nicolette, Harper’s focus is on Ethan and his rapidly deteriorating state. The edges of his vision have darkened and the pain has multiplied as it becomes all he can feel. His whole body is on fire, like each vein is boiling within, with no chance of ebbing away. 

Ethan’s hand lifts upwards towards Harper. He wants to tell her to go and save Nicolette. To save his Rookie and yet the words won’t come. They die in his throat. 

Is he going to die? 

“Now, Ethan...we have to get you to an OR. I can’t do anything right now without the equipment needed.” 

Ethan doesn’t have the strength to nod but he does grip Harper’s hand tightly and she nods as she gives him a smile. 

“Okay. Let’s go, Lahela!” 

Ethan isn’t sure how much time passes but the black abyss that creeps at the edge of his vision becomes all-encompassing and he has nothing left to do but yield to it. The sounds of Harper, and raised shouts fading until he is pulled under completely.

Beside him, Nicolette is seduced by the sights and sounds of the hospital as they morph into the peaceful lull of white noise. Her heart is shattering into a million shards of glass, each new piece far more serrated than the last.

Breathing masks cover their mouths and their noses, she expects to feel no pain during surgery, but she knows that the moment she wakes again, the agony will be more than she can bear.

She’s sleepy, so sleepy now. Her heavy lids droop and her lashes flutter against her cheeks, and the last thing that enters her mind before she’s completely incapacitated and rendered unconscious is his name.

[15001700tt]

Descendants of the Moon

Matter of Life and Death

Descendants of the Moon Masterlist

Word Count: 3,381

Tag list: @chastja  @multi-fan-trash @serpentityx @syublush

Dm me if you want to be on the tag list!

Key: Italics- things that happened in the drama but do not old any importance to the story line

Key: Bold- Dialogue said in the Drama

A/N: I forgot to post the teaser for this chapter, my bad. ill post it with tomorrows teaser.

Episode 3:

Mo Yeon and Nurse Choi moved into the bunkers, organizing whatever they were able to bring on the helicopter.

“There’s not much to organize,”  Min Ji huffed softly.

“It’s ok since we’re tired anyways” Mo Yeon responded, folding her towel.

“Knock knock” a male’s voice interrupted their conversation. The girls looked and found a young man standing in front of them in military clothing.

“Have you been well?” he asked them, earning blank looks, Mo Yeon and Min Ji didn't seem to remember meeting him.

“The patient who ran away” he tried jogging their memories by jumping on one foot.

“Ay! Coupon thief!” Mo Yeon’s memory finally snapped and he remembered the young man that got beat up so badly. He was also the reason she met Shi Jin. They conversed when a girl’s voice interrupted.

“Excuse me, it’s time for me to see my friends” Mo Yeon recognized Yoo Ji’s voice as Yoo Ji shoved Ki Bum out of the way.

“Ahhhhh what are you doing here?” Mo Yeon squealed.

“I got transferred to the Taebaek unit last week, I guess they want me to cover what you guys do here.” Yoo Ji explained.

They talked for a bit more while Mo Yeon settled in, they even went to check on Nurse Ha and Doctor Song. they found them arguing over something, the two girls decided to leave them alone.

“Oh! I forgot my phone back in the bunker, you go ahead of me, I'll catch up.” Mo Yeon sighed.

Yoo Ji made her way to the dinner table and observed the scene, the Haesung team unit was still settling down but most of them were sitting around and enjoying the sun and the food, the unit prepared for them. She took notice of Chi Hoon and was about to go over and greet him. He was taking pictures with his camera, her steps halted when she saw one of the men stood in front of him. She got a little closer to hear their conversation.

“I need to inspect your camera,” Woo Geun said with his intimidating face. Yoo Ji rolled her eyes, he was using his face to scare poor Chi Hoon.

“You will delete these pictures immediately,” he told Chi Hoon.

“Why? Did you not like it? I can take another pictu-”

“We’re not allowed to have our pictures taken” Woo Geun responded. Yoo Ji snorted, ‘that’s ridiculous, why wou- oh’ she thought, she thought back to her conversation with Gwang Nam when she assumed he’s Special Forces. She turned her attention to Gwang Nam and Cheol Ho, trying to avoid camera flashes subtly. She guessed that the Captain and Deputy Leader were the head of the team.

While she wasn’t paying attention to Chi Hoon, Mo Yeon approached them snidely commenting on military regulations.

“They can’t tell us anything due to military regulations”

Woo Geun bowed his head to excuse himself from that awkward conversation. Yoo Ji couldn't hear what Mo Yeon said to Chi Hoon since her voice was a murmur at this point. Yoo Ji moved from her spot and decided to take part in the festivities. Some of the medical units recognized her and greeted her.

Gwang Nam was standing behind all of his friends and he was thankful, they would tease him until death if they caught him staring at Yoo Ji. the team and the soldiers knew her as the pretty reporter that can kick their ass. It didn't seem to matter to her what their rank was or how well trained they were, she always managed to turn the odds in her favor. She has been there for only a couple of days but they had seen her take Cheol Ho down when he was teasing her.

-they raise the flag and they go to the Medi-cube-

It was time for Haesung Unit to start their work. They were instructed to get blood tests from the soldiers to check for any irregularities. Yoo Ji stayed at the door and just observed as the doctors got settled down, the soldiers came in and hurried towards the female nurses and doctors. Yoo Ji snorted at their tactics. 

Shi Jin came in, he nodded at her and walked towards Mo Yeon’s station. Yoo Ji watched as they interacted with each other. She knew what happened back home, and it seemed like they still aren't over it.

Gwang Nam moved to her side and watched his friend interact with the girl he likes. 

“Do you think they’ll give their relationship a try again?” he pondered.

“Not after she pokes him like three times,” she responded when Shi Jin yelped. Gwang Nam looked at Mo Yeon with a scared expression. 

“She’s not gonna do that to you” Yoo Ji rolled her eyes. Yoo Ji nodded her head at the old man came through the door.

“You’ve been working hard!” he praised.

“Did you come to receive the packages?” Shi Jin asked, still holding his arm.

“I did and I just came to greet you!” he laughed, and Shi Jin grinned. 

“We should play ball and eat some meat this weekend” Shi Jin offered, his slight smile was gone when they heard a faint crash and a long horn-like car. Yoo Ji immediately moved from her position towards the exit. Trying to see if it was from the main entrance or not, she didn't get very far, Gwang Nam held her back, shaking his head no.

“This is your Captain, report the situation at the front gate” Shi Jin’s voice cut through all the soldier’s two-way radio.

“Everything is in place by the front gate, it seems to be a car accident by the mountainside” the soldier’s voice cut through the silence as some sighed in relief while one man’s eyes widened in panic.

“If it was the mountain road...did my car flip with my kids inside!?” the old man gasped in horror.

The Alpha team quickly assembled their gear and moved towards the Jeep. Yoo Ji swiftly got into the car through the open roof and waited for the guys to get in.

“What the hell are you doing?” Gwang Nam commanded. 

“I am coming with, I am a reporter, I can do that” Yoo Ji pulled out two cards, one of them her ‘badge’ and the other is just a card that says ‘I do what I want’. 

“You can’t, you’re a civilian. It could be dangerous” Shi Jin stated calmly but also allowed no room for discussion. 

“Alright but don’t blame me if one of your vehicles go missing” Yoo Ji shrugged, swinging out of the car and jogging to where they kept their cars.

“Yoo Ji, wait” Dae Young’s voice called out while keeping eye contact with Shi Jin, having a nonverbal argument.

“Fine, she comes but you stay in the car” Shi Jin’s defeated tone called her.

“Sure, we’ll see” she nodded her head but muttered under her breath. Shi Jin turned to Gwang Nam and Woo Geun instructed them to stay on base just in case.

Gwang Nam couldn't argue with his Captain about his choice, but he couldn't help the worried look he sent Yoo Ji. she gave him a small smug smile and they were on their way.

They approached the flipped car, Shi Jin got out first and signaled Dae Young and Cheol Ho to follow him. As soon as they surrounded the car, Yoo Ji got out of the jeep and crept around the van to inspect the damage. She saw Dae Young checking for a pulse on the bleeding guy, and then moving around to the back where the doors are closed with a lock, Shi Jin inspected the bottom of the car that was on the top now. He frowned, something was wrong, how did the car manage to get there from the cliff, it was a little too far from the usual fall. Cheol Ho’s voice broke Shi Jin out of his thoughts.

“Police! hands up!” 

“Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot! I’m UN! UN!” the young man’s voice yelped putting his hands up.

Cheol Ho swung his gun to the side and went to check the injured man’s body for weapons. She was still looking at the car and she noticed that there was a key that looked small enough to open the clasp on the van’s back door on the key chain,  she quickly took out the keys.

“I am hurt! I am hurt! Treatment! Treatment!” the man frantically explained, he turned around not noticing Yoo Ji watching him from the other side. His face changed and he looked like he just screwed up. Yoo Ji furrowed her eyebrows. And stood up and tossed them to Dae Young who looked at her with a dismayed look. She mentally snorted, he really thought she would stay in the car.

Since Yoo Ji moved from her spot she didn’t see the man open the glove compartment, he slowly took out a G-47 and sharply turned to point the gun at Shi Jin. 

Shi Jin saw it coming and intercepted it and punched him in the nose. His groan alerted Yoo Ji that he might not be who he is. She went to Shi Jin’s side and glanced at the gun.

“Isn’t he a member of the U.N.? The relief team isn’t allowed to carry guns” 

“Then why would he have a G-47?” she questioned.

“They say they’re U.N. but they have tattoos from foreign legions and their clothes don’t fit properly” Shi Jin inspected. 

“Yet they insist they are UN, who are these people?”

Dae Young finally opened the back door to the van, he found trunks that were filled with packaged clothes and guns, big guns. Yoo Ji was standing behind him, her eyebrows shot up.

“They’re trying to smuggle weapons across the border using the U.N. as a cover?” Yoo Ji furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

“You tell me, you’re part of the U.N.” Shi Jin stated back. Yoo Ji shook her head, she didn't hear any chatter about smugglers at the U.N. meetings. She went up to the injured smuggler and took his identification card, and inspected it.

“It looks like the ID is fake, the serial numbers don’t start with 103- its 003” Yoo Ji informed them. In the end, Shi Jin called the local police, but Yoo Ji doubted they would stay at the station for a long time. The police in Urk was always bought with money and don’t really stand for justice. She knows first hand because she was able to get information from one of them before.

As they went back to base, Mo Yeon caught them walking.

“Did anyone get hurt?”

“No it was just a car accident, don’t worry about it” Shi Jin assured her.

Shi Jin needed to go to the main base in town to report the car accident, and Mo Yeon needed Wifi so Dae Young, the best wingman on earth, suggesting that Shi Jin takes Mo Yeon to an internet cafe. 

Dae Young caught Yoo Ji chuckling at his suggestion, Mo Yeon being one to never back down from a challenge, which that’s what it felt like to her. She took him up on the offer and got into the blue car with Shi Jin.

“What if they kill each other in that car?” Yoo Ji was amused. Gwang Nam joined them looking at the retreating car.

“One is great with sharp objects and the other has martial arts.” Dae Young weighed the possibility.

“She doesn't have her scalpel with her, I think they’ll be fine” Dae Young waved off. Gwang Nam chuckled at his comment.

“How do you know if I didn't teach her how to defend herself without weapons” Yoo Ji faked her serious tone. Truthfully she taught Mo Yeon basic self-defense but Shi Jin can totally overpower her in a few seconds, the boys didn't know that. Gwang Nam and Dae Young’s face fell and dread settled in their stomachs, but Yoo Ji’s laughter made them sigh in relief.

Shi Jin drops Mo Yeon at Ye Hwa’s convenience store and goes to do the report, his superior tells him to leave it alone because the police are getting involved in some shady shit and they don’t want to ruin Korean relations with Urk. he went back to pick her up and they went to the secluded beach while he told her the story of how he met Seo Dae Young and Yoon Myung Ju. They came back really late to Chi Hoon carrying a small child to the infirmary. Mo Yeon quickly followed him and Shi Jin on her heels. After they finished diagnosing the child, Shi Jin went to where Dae Young and Gwang Nam and Yoo Ji were playing cards.

“So how was it? Everyone back in one piece?” Dae Young teased when he saw Shi Jin at the door. He had a pensive look on his face as he leaned on the doorway.

“Did you know that the Haesung Chairman tried to get Mo Yeon to sleep with him on their first date?” he asked Yoo Ji who was trying to focus on the game.

“Of course I knew, I am not cut off from the world” she rolled her eyes and put down three hearts.

“Why didn't you tell me?” Shi Jin asked with a pout on his face.

“Why would I? Are you dating Mo Yeon?” she seriously asked him, looking him in the eye.

“No but that guy is an asshole!” he let out a frustrated groan.

“I know, I was tempted to punch him too but I was here and I couldn't do anything” she replied.

“I should’ve circumcised him before I left so he would only have his illegitimate children when he needs an heir” Yoo Ji muttered, making all three men look at her in surprise.

“What? Are you surprised I know that or that I can get violent?” she questioned.

“He has illegitimate children?” Shi Jin’s lips started to widen into a smile, then it was a full-blown laugh.

“How do you know these things?” Gwang Nam queried.

“I have sources.” she cryptically said. When all three of the men’s radios went off. Something was happening. 

“We’re going under FPCON BRAVO” Dae Young informed Yoo Ji.

“Force Protection Condition” Gwang Nam translated to Yoo Ji. They left their game and went to get ready, they were going to get briefed on the situation. All that they knew was that the Medi-Cube was under protection. 

“It turned out that President Mubarat of the Arab league needs medical attention” Shi Jin repeated the information that was given to him by his superior, Dae Young and Shi Jin were briefing their team on who the resident was, and how important his role was.

Yoo Ji was waiting with the medical team, she was observing quietly from the back, it seemed that she didn't pick up on the tension between Shi Jin and Mo Yeon because they seemed to be upset with each other. Shi Jin silently handed Mo Yeon the medical chart of the patient. 

“What is this? Everything is censored, how do they want us to read it and make a proper diagnosis?” Doctor Song protested when he saw the black lines going through the vital information.

“In the VIP Charts there are more lies than truths anyway” Mo Yeon responded 

“Why would any doctor do that?” Chi Hoon was puzzled, probably thinking about how it’s illegal to record false information.

“Just like poor people need Schweitzer, VIPs need special doctors too, their medical history can be used as their weakness” Mo Yeon continued, not noticing Shi Jin’s look, Yoo Ji did, and he looked like he regretted something. Probably something he said to her.

The patient arrived and they started performing emergency medical procedures, the president’s bodyguards tried to make Yoo Ji step out of the room. Yoo Ji already knew that they would try so she showed them her UN badge and that she can be their translator as she was able to speak Arabic fluently. They had no choice but to allow her, as there were a language barrier and so little time.

As they talked about the patient’s treatment, it seemed that it wasn’t going too well, and the guards were expecting Yoo Ji to translate, but she found herself confused as well.

“The symptoms don’t add up, how is that even possible?” she added.

“That’s because there is something that they don’t want us to know about,” Mo Yeon said, turning to look at Shi Jin.

“I need to open him up to see what's causing the bleeding in the abdominal cavity,” Mo Yeon told him before turning to her medical team.

“Prepare the operating room quickly!” her order was cut off when the main security guard spoke up in English.

“I can’t let you do that, you can’t operate on him” he paused,“The President’s doctor will be here in an hour,” he stated.

“The patient won’t last an hour, they need to operate now” Yoo Ji intervened in Arabic knowing that if they didn't save him now it will be blamed on them and if he does die then it’s also on them, and she saw in Mo Yeon’s eyes that she was willing to take the chance. Everyone’s eyes widened when they heard her speak Arabic, they didn't know she spoke Arabic fluently.

“I can’t let you put a knife in the leader of the Arab world.” he insisted.

“What do you mean? If I don’t operate now he won’t last 20 minutes” Mo Yeon responded in English.

“Only Arab doctors perform on the President!” the bodyguard pulled out his gun and pointed it at Mo Yeon, Yoo Ji could see the breath she sucked in. Yoo Ji surveyed the room and tried to find a weapon she could use in case things got ugly. She was still standing beside the bodyguards and with the way things are going that didn't seem safe. She locked eyes with Gwang Nam. The medical team took a visible step back while the Alpha Team all reached for their guns, keeping their hands above the holster when Shi Jin motioned with his hand to wait.

Gwang Nam signaled with his eyes to start making her way to their side behind him. She slowly inched towards them as Shi Jin listened to his superior on the radio and Mo Yeon told the bodyguard that once she removes her hands, he will die.

“I am not trying to change history here.” she tried one last time to convince him. When he didn't budge, Shi Jin listened to his superior as he talked. The alpha team is doing the same. Yoo Ji watched Gwang Nam’s face to try and decipher what he’s saying, she didn't think it was anything good as all of their eyes flickered to Mo Yeon at the same time. 

“Can you save this patient?” Shi Jin asked Mo Yeon, it seemed like he made a decision already and Dae Young was on the same page as him. It really impressed Yoo Ji how they communicated silently and got the message across to all five of them without uttering a word. Gwang Nam gestured for her to hurry up.

“I can save him” Mo Yeon’s soft voice called out and Shi Jin nodded and turned off the radio, and took out his earpiece while Gwang Nam gestured Yee Ji again to come closer. 

“Then save him” he put up his gun quickly. Yoo Ji had swiftly made her way to Gwang Nam’s side and was standing behind him. He was pointing his rifle at one of the bodyguards. Yoo Ji held onto his back feeling his warm body. She slightly blushed at the contact but she knew now isn’t the time and especially when this could be their last day on earth, she shook it out of her head and focused on the bodyguards’ faces from behind team Alpha.

If this was any other circumstances he would have totally had a moment about her touching him, but this was life and death right now, he’ll have to wait.

[takivvatanga]

a day.

Today is a good day.

Assire has never quite understood why other parents appear to dread the school holidays as they do. As far as she is concerned, having her daughter at home with her during the day is a good thing indeed. Maybe it is because Stella is good company, a breath of fresh air when she is rolling around on the couch with the cats, a delight when she shares not just her pictures but the explanation behind them – the reasons why she paints the things she does. Maybe it’s because Assire honestly enjoys answering her daughter’s neverending string of questions – not the least because there’s nothing that makes her feel loved like she does when she climbs on her lap and settles in to peer at Assire’s laptop screen, waiting with barely contained impatience as Assire, quietly practical as always, googles for answers.

Whatever the reasons, one thing is certain: Assire loves having Stella home.  ____

Today is a good day.

Sunshine, a hint of the coming summer already in the air. 

Stella is certainly making the most of it, practically flying along the street outside on her (almost new but nonetheless already heavily scarred) skateboard.  Every now and again, Assire casts a glance outside, waving at her daughter even though Stella won’t see, her eyes firmly fixed on some vague point off in the distance, her face an expression of pure concentration.

A good time to get some work done. Assire checks the clock, nods to herself, takes a sip of her tea, and begins.

Today is a good day. ____ 

“MUUUUUUUUUM!”

It’s the kind of scream that goes right through you. The kind of scream that sets your heart racing and your ears ringing, particularly if it is accompanied by the sound of something tumbling, falling, smashing. Today is rubbish day, the neighbourhood bins lining the road. Stella likes to try and swerve around them, trying to make the bends as tight as possible all the while riding as fast as possible. Eventually, something like this had to happen. 

Assire leaps to her feet.

“Stella?!”

“MUM!”

Assire is out of the door in seconds, sprinting towards her daughter’s screams. Stella is sitting on the ground, her upturned skateboard and no less than three fallen rubbish bins beside her. She’s torn her jeans, skinned her knees. There’s a smear of blood across her right sleeve, and her arm is hanging limply by her side, the angle of it anything but natural.

“I fell off and I hurt my arm it hurts it really really hurts!”

“It’s okay, sweetheart, I am here. Can you get up? Come, I’ll help you.”

“Ow! Ow! My arm it hurts!”

“I know, I know. Come on let’s just get you on your feet, alright?”

Stella’s face contorts into a grimace of pain as she gets to her feet, gingerly, shakily. She’s pale as a ghost, her pupils dilated, her cheeks stained with tears.

“Can you move your arm, Stella?” The girl winces, shakes her head, fails to contain the flood of her tears.

“Is it broken, Mum?”

“I think so. We’re going to go to the hospital. You and I.” ”Is Dad going to come get us? I want Dad.” ”No, sweetheart. We’re going in a cab. Come on, let’s go inside and get some things together.” ”Mum? Can you carry me?” Assire shrugs, kneels down in front of her daughter, gently brushing the tears from her burning cheeks.

“I can.”

Today is a frightening day. ____ 

The taxi arrives swiftly, although to Assire it seems like an eternity. Stella’s crying has ceased for the moment, but the girl is completely and utterly miserable, wrapped up in a blanket, clinging to her mother with her uninjured arm as hard as she can. It takes Assire several attempts to convince her to let go so she can retrieve her phone from her bag. 

. . .  [txt: Jonathan] i don’t want to unsettle you but stella had a bit of an accident i think her arm is broken. catching a cab up to A&E

[txt: Jonathan] will let you know where we are once we’re sorted if you get time to check in with us. poor thing is in so much pain i feel terrible

[txt: Jonathan] makes me regret giving her that skateboard  . . . 

“Where we off to then, Miss? Your little one okay?” The driver is polite and cheerful. The cab smells of peppermints and old newspapers with just a hint of Spray & Wipe.

“We’re going to the hospital. Emergency. Thank You.”

“I broke my arm I fell off my skateboard!”

“Well we better get crackin’, then. Don’t worry, they’ll get you sorted at the hospital. You’ll be good as new, kid. Just stay comfy in the back there, alright?”

Stella tries to force a smile, nods her head, holds her mother’s hand a little tighter. Assire pulls her daughter close, brushes a strand of hair out of her face. Stella leans up against her mother, the adrenaline is starting to wear off. She looks absolutely exhausted, and Assire can tell from the way she clenches her jaw that her daughter is being extraordinarily, overwhelmingly, impressively staunch in the face of what is likely the most pain she has ever felt in the whole entire eight and a bit years of her life.

“Mum?”

”Yes, sweetheart?”

“Will Dad be there? At the hospital?”

Assire casts a glance at her phone. No response to her messages, at least not yet. He won’t have seen them, he’s likely busy, stuck in an operating room somewhere, unaware of what has happened.  Maybe texting him was a mistake. Assire doesn’t want Jonathan to worry. But at the end of the day, he’s going to find out no matter what, isn’t he? Best to send another message to reassure him, let him know that everything is under control.

. . .   [txt: Jonathan] we in cab on way. She’s gonna be fine please don’t worry too much ok? I got this :) and our daughter is most likely one of the bravest people i’ve ever met. . . .  

“What did he say?”

“He hasn’t replied yet, he’s busy. I just told him how very brave you are.”

“Mum!!!!” Stella sits up suddenly, letting out a little cry of pain as she does so. “Mum we have to go back! Mister, Mister! You have to turn around! We forgot my skateboard!”

The taxi driver turns his head, raises an eyebrow, looking to Assire for direction.

“No, Stella. Your skateboard can wait until we get back. Your arm is more important.”

“But... but I want my skateboard! My SKATEBOARD, Mum! I need it!”

Just like that, Stella falls apart. Where only a moment ago she was all bravery and defiance in the face of pain, a glimpse of the stoic, resourceful woman she will one day grow up to be, she’s suddenly a little girl again, her voice high-pitched, her tears flowing freely once more.

“Shhhh. It’s okay, Stella. It’s okay.”

“No I need my skateboard!”

Assire does not know what to say. But she does know what to do. She pulls her daughter close, strokes her hair, feels her sleeve grow damp with tears and snot.

“All good, sweetheart. It’s going to be okay.”

Today is an overwhelming day.

____ 

“How are you feeling, Stella? You okay there?”

Stella nods meekly. Her legs are dangling from the plinth she’s sitting on, all torn jeans and grazed knees. She’s holding an icepack up against her injured arm, which still dangles uselessly by her side.

The doctor is young, younger than Assire. She’s tall and slim, with short red hair and dark circles under her bright, inquisitive eyes. She smiles first at Stella, then at Assire, and her smile, although tired, is genuine.

“Well, the bad news is, your arm is definitely broken. See that line, right here? And here?” she points at the x ray on the computer screen, zooming in so both the girl and her mother can see. 

“You’re going to need a cast, I’m afraid. But the good news is that it’s a nice clean fracture, no chipping, nothing out of place. Should heal really well. Should we go through and get your cast put on? You can even pick the colour you want.”

“Where’s Dad?”, Stella scowls. The young physician casts an apprehensive glance at Assire, who shrugs her shoulders and fidgets with the hems of her sleeves.

“My husband works here.”

“Why, isn’t he lucky.” The doctor laughs, a little too loudly. Assire wonders how long she’s been on shift, what horrors she has witnessed today, this week, this month.

“Stella, Dad will check in with you when he has time, okay? Once he gets a break.”

“I want green.”

“You what?”

“For my cast, I want green.”

“Green it is. Let’s take you through to the nurse now. Do you want your Mum to come with you?”

“Nah. I’ll go by myself.”

It hurts a bit, her saying that. Stella has always been independent, but this is different. The hospital is a big place, a terrifying and confusing place, Stella is only little, only eight, and she is hurt. Assire opens her mouth to protest, the thought of her daughter going anywhere without her fills her with unease.

“I can do it, Mum. I can go on my own.”

“Stella... alright then. Be good, okay?”

The waiting room is full of people. Some of them look like they have been here for months. A young mother with a febrile toddler, an older man coughing incessantly into a chequered handkerchief. A woman roughly Assire’s age, limping and carrying a scratched bicycle helmet. A pale teenager pressing a gauze pad to their left eye while the fingers of their right hand dance frantically across their phonescreen. An elderly couple with walking frames. So many people. So many unfortunate events. Assire shifts in her seat, picks up a magazine only to put it down again. The cyclist flashes a smile, but Assire is too lost in thought to notice.

____

“Mum! Mum look it’s green!”

Stella’s voice pulls her from her thoughts. Her daughter’s eyes are alight with both excitement and a significant dose of analgesia as she makes her way down the hall at an almost run. The cast on her right arm is indeed green, so bright that it makes Assire’s eyes hurt. There are dressings on Stella’s knees as well, neatly trimmed to allow movement without lifting at the edges. When Assire has tried to dress her daughter’s skinned knees at home, they have never lasted longer than half an hour – if that.

“Your little girl is very brave. She told me all about her accident.” 

The nurse follows Stella with quick, energetic steps, pushes her glasses up the ridge of her nose. Her fingernails are bitten almost to the quick, and Assire can’t help to feel a sense of kinship, of connection.

“There you go, Stella. Your mum can take you home now. You got that paperwork I gave you? Good. Remember to take it easy, alright? Careful with that skateboard of yours.”

”I don’t have to do any schoolwork for six weeks! Mum, look!” Stella beams, waving her cast at Assire, her little face triumphant even though her eyes are swollen from crying.

“You... what?” Assire raises an eyebrow.

“No schoolwork! Because I broke my right arm!”

“Stella, you are lefthanded.”

“Oh.”

Stella’s face sinks, her eyes filling with tears.

“I don’t want to be lefthanded! I don’t want to do schoolwork! Mum, I want my skateboard!”

Assire sighs heavily, crouches down, beckoning her daughter with outstretched arms. Stella doesn’t hesitate, throws herself at her mother amidst a flood of tears and sobs, her little body quivering with pain, with frustration, with exhaustion.

“We’ll get you home, alright? We’ll have another cab ride.”

”I don’t want a cab ride! I want to stay here! I want to see Dad!”

“You will, sweetheart. When he comes home.”

Stella only sobs in reply, her limbs like rubber all of a sudden, the cast rigid and alien between them. Assire squeezes her daughters hand, brushes a kiss onto her cheek. Stella’s skin tastes like salt and scented soap.

“Let’s go home.”

” –kay.”

Today has been a big day.

 @starscorned gets tagged because in this house we love and appreciate this family also Stella milked that broken arm for all it was worth once her Dad got home from work lmaooooo