#also this was the first time i ever brought a notebook to a medical appointment | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chaotic-jjk-fiction · 4 years

Text

The Surrogate: Nanami Kento x Reader x Gojo Satoru

Please be warned that this piece is 4.3k words

I am willing to write a part two if you guys like it

TW: Pregnancy, Artificial insemination, Morning sickness, Surrogacy

You were tight on money, you couldn’t deny that. Sometimes you had to pick between paying rent and eating, but that was just how it was living in Tokyo. You had just graduated from university last year, and finding work wasn’t easy. One night when you and your friends were hanging out and one of them jokingly brought up the idea of becoming a surrogate to make some money. You all laughed at the idea then, but a few months after that conversation took place you found yourself googling the surrogacy processes and the money that could be made. While surrogacy was not actually illegal in Japan but it was still frowned upon by many, however, this wasn’t going to stop you.

Now you were filling out your application to become a surrogate mother. You went through all of the agency’s testing and formal legal work and they told you that they would notify you if you were chosen by a family. All you could do now was wait and see. You had almost forgotten about your application when you got an email explaining that you had been selected by a couple and that a meeting needed to be scheduled so that both parties could meet and decide if they wanted to continue. You quickly replied with all of the dates and time that worked for you and internally jumped with joy that things were actually working out, much quicker than you had expected.

The meeting time was also set quickly and you found yourself growing nervous as the day approached and you had to remind yourself that this was no different from any job interview you had ever done. Finally the day had come and you were headed off to meet the family that you would potentially be carrying a baby for. You dressed in your best clothes and did your hair in a way that you hoped would impress them, you knew that if they were able to afford surrogacy, they were probably of high status. The meeting was at the agency and one of their doctors would be there to explain everything to both parties and help everyone feel comfortable. When you made it to the agency you were escorted into an office type room with a desk and three chairs. Two of them were closer together, and the third was more off to the side and you guessed that one was for you, and the other two were for the couple. You sat down in the chair off to side your hands folded in your lap as you looked around the room. You jumped when you heard the door open and you turned around to see two men enter the room. One man was obviously the doctor and the other one you assumed was the husband in the couple. The doctor went and sat down on the other side of the desk, and you stood up and bowed to the man in a tan suite. He was pretty tall, and you weren't going to lie, he was making you feel a bit intimidated. He bowed back to you.

“My name is Nanami Kento” he said very formally, “Thank you for meeting with us, and I apologize that my partner is late.” You were a little taken back by how formal he was, but then again it was what you were expecting.

“My name is y/n'' your voice wavered a bit, “and the pleasure is mine.” You two bowed again, and then he took his seat and you followed. There was an awkward silence in the air and you just tried to focus on your hands which laid in your lap and not the intimidating man sitting in the chair a little ways away from you. Five minutes passed before the door slammed open and you jumped in surprise, whipping your head around to see who had busted in. A man with white hair and sunglasses stood in the doorway.

“Sit down” Nanami said in a stern voice, “your late Satoru.” The man in the door frame made his way over to the chair next to him and sat down before turning to you,

“The name’s Gojo Satoru'' he stated and then turned back around to face the doctor. You were a little shocked, but you also turned back to face the doctor. You noted the wedding rings on their hands and you realize that they were the married couple that you would be potentially carrying a baby for. It made sense, obviously they couldn’t have a child together, and it made you hope that this worked out. The doctor soon began his speech on how surrogacy works, explaining how you would be artificially inseminated with a semen sample that the men provided. You would then be monitored closely throughout your pregnancy and updates would be provided for Nanami and Gojo. They would pay any medical bills that were related to the pregnancy, and how the three of you could work out specific details on which doctor you would see and which hospital you would give birth as you pleased. You just sat there silently nodding every now and again to show that you were listening to what was being said. The thought of actually carrying a baby inside of you for nine months was intimidating, but you really needed the money. After the doctor had finished his part of the meeting he then opened the floor to questions and open discussion. You really didn’t know what to say, and you were glad when Nanami pulled out a notebook and began asking the doctor questions and taking notes. You felt so unprepared compared to them. After he was done interrogating the doctor, he turned to you and you panicked a little about what he was going to ask.

“Thank you again for meeting us here today” he started off formally “Would you mind if I asked you some questions?” You nodded,

“Of course not.” He looked down at the page of questions decide which one to ask first, before finally deciding to start with your relationship status. You explained to them that you hadn’t been in a relationship since you were in your first year of university. He went on asking questions about family history and health, and other stuff along that line, you answered every question to best of your ability. You noticed that his husband, Gojo appeared to be antsy and trying not to start bouncing off the walls. You wondered how these two had ended up together. After Nanami had gone through everything he had to written down, he asked you had any questions for them to which you responded,

“I only have one,” you paused a moment before continuing “What brought you two to deciding that you wanted a child” Nanami looked back at Gojo before looking back to you

“Well” he started before getting cut off be his husband

“Because we work with kids all day and seeing them all grow up and mature makes me want to have a kid of my own to help grow and mature” Gojo exclaimed “Plus babies are cute as hell” You couldn’t help but giggle at his last statement, Nanami however just shook his head.

“Ok” you said “So far I’m feeling good about going through with this. You two seem like a wonderful couple.” Both of them looked at you smiling, and a grin broke out on Gojo’s face. Nanami nodded in a very business like manner,

“Before we sign any papers” he interrupted “We have a few terms and conditions” you smiled and nodded and he went on

“We would like to be at most, if not all of your ultrasounds” he explained

“I think that’s perfectly reasonable” you chirped

“We would also like to see your living accommodations, we need to know that our baby is being cared for properly, even before they are born” you paused for a moment before answering.

“That can be arranged,” you said slowly. And just you were signing the legal papers that set your fate in stone, setting a date to get inseminated, shaking hands with Nanami and Gojo, and then you were on your way back home.

Your appointment to be inseminated at the clinic was fast approaching and you were a tab bit anxious, but you were also pretty giddy. You were happy that you could give such a sweet couple the baby they wanted. Some time passed, and the next thing you knew you found yourself seated in the procedural chair, your legs in the stirrups watching a doctor pull on gloves before she took the odd syringe with a long thin tube on it and held it up.

“Ok” she said “I need you to try and relax as much as you can and just take a deep breath. '' You did as she said and tried hard not to pay attention to how uncomfortable it was. She slowly injected the liquid, which you knew was sperm through the tube, and you found yourself wondering which man's sperm it was.

“I’m all done” she informed you as she moved to clean up “We’ll be seeing you in a week to see if an egg fertilized” you nodded as you redressed. Two weeks and few days later you found yourself back in the doctors office with Nanami and Gojo waiting to see if you were pregnant or not. The room was tense as the doctor looked over your blood work in his hands

“Your hCG level is at 21” the doctor stated. All three of you were on the edge of your seats, “Congratulations. You're pregnant” he said looking from the paper up to you. She let out a sigh of relief, you felt like a weight had been lifted off your chest. What you weren't expecting was to suddenly be lifted out of your chair and hugged, the action causing you to let out a squeak of surprise.

“Put her down Satoru” Nanami commanded. You were then set down so that you were standing on the floor looking up at Gojo who had apparently been the one to pick you up. Nanami stood up and took your hand

“I’m very glad that this worked out” he said a little stiffly “I look forward to what’s to come for all of us.” You nodded happily with a big smile on your face. He felt a smile tugging at his lips as he looked at your bright eyes and happy expression matching Gojo’s.

“So, who is you obstetrician?” Nanami asked after the initial excitement had died down. You paused, looking down avoid eye contact

“I don’t have one” you said sheepishly. The two men exchanged glances before looking back at you, your head still down.

“We can set an appointment up for you with one of our choosing if that’s alright with you” Nanami offered. Gojo quick budded in with

“And we’ll pay for it of course.” You looked back up at them, before you nodded

“That sounds great. Thank you so much”

“It’s the least we could do” Nanami said with a soft smile on his face “You are carrying our child after all.” Gojo made his way to his husband's side and took his arm and pressed a soft kiss to kiss cheek. It made you happy to see the two of them so happy, you were feeling pretty good about your decision to become their surrogate. Two weeks later they called you to set up your six week ultrasound with a doctor they had picked in Tokyo, that when you looked her up seemed pretty high scale and you were glad you didn’t have to pay. All three of you set a date that would work, with the agreement that after the appointment they would come over to your house and check it out and you agreed. They also asked about how you were feeling so far, you explained to them that so far your breast had been pretty tender, you were definitely bloated, however, you hadn’t had any morning sickness yet. They seemed relieved to hear that you were doing good. You hung up after setting the date for your first ultrasound and the waiting process began again. Two more weeks passed until it was finally the day of your appointment. You had developed morning sickness around the middle of week five and you found it was mostly triggered by certain smells. Your breast, you were pretty sure had also gotten a bit bigger.

You took the bus to the station closest to where the doctor was before walking the rest of the way to the building. You took a seat in the waiting room after filling out the patient intake form. It was a fancy office, that was for sure. Nanami and Gojo soon walked in and took a seat on either side of you so that you were in the middle of them, you felt so small. A nurse called your name and you stood up and followed her, the two of them close behind you. The room she took you to was pretty big, it had two chairs against one wall, an examination table in the middle of the room, and an ultrasound next to the examination table along with a rolling stool for the doctor. You laid down on the table as a technician put a little blue pee pad type thing on your thighs before pulling down your pants a bit and instructed you to pull up your shirt, which you did.

“The gel will be cold” she warned you before squirting it onto your belly, it was indeed cold. She took the ultrasound wand and pressed it to your belly before starting to move it round, spreading out the gel. All three of you stared at the monitor with baited breath, and there it was, a fuzzy, little bean looking thing that was your baby. You looked over at Nanami and Gojo who were sitting in the chairs to see Gojo holding his husbands had tightly eyes wide looking at the screen.

“I’m going to see if we can find the heartbeat now” she informed you. You looked back over to the monitor, watching the little bean. You watched as she moved the wand, and tapped some buttons, trying to capture the little beating heart she pointed out to you. You felt like you wanted to cry. You were actually carrying a tiny precursor to a human being, with its own, functioning, heart. There were a few more less enjoyable parts to your appointment, but you guessed you were going to have to get used to people looking at your “lady parts.” You walked out of the office with Gojo and Nanami at your side, Gojo was holding a file of your ultrasound, along with some pamphlets from the doctor about what to expect in the first trimester.

“Are you ready for us to go to your house?” Nanami turned to you and asked. You froze, you had completely forgotten that you’d agreed to that, you gulped, then nodded

“I’m ready” you informed them. They led you to a car and Nanami helped you into it, although that really wasn’t necessary in your mind. You were surprised to find that the car had a driver, who was introduced to you as Ijichi Kiyotaka. He asked for your address and you gave it to him, although you felt embarrassed saying it out loud, and the silence in the car wasn’t helping. On the ride to your apartment you were seated in the middle seat, between Gojo and Nanami. About halfway to your house, Gojo opened up the folder and pulled out the sonogram pictures that had been taken, before going on a little rant about how cute they were going to be while looking at the image.

Before you knew it, the car had pulled up in front of your hole in the wall apartment building and all three of you were getting out and making your way up stairs to your floor. The first thing the two men noticed was that the building didn’t have an elevator, that didn’t seem good as you would most likely have trouble with stairs later in your pregnancy, especially since you lived on the fourth floor. One they made it up to your unit you unlocked the door, but before opening you turned around to face them

“I apologize for any mess in advance” you said and then pushed the door open. All three of you took off your shoes before entering the actual living space. The thing that stood out most to them was how little furniture there was. You had a sofa and a coffee table in the small room, along with a bookshelf and a little rug but nothing else in your living room. The kitchen was practically non-existent. You had a fridge, a microwave, a rice maker, and a small gas stove next to an equally small sink. Nanami looked around skeptically and Gojo headed straight for the fridge, opening to find nothing but a few kinds of convenience store pickles.

“What do you eat?” he exclaimed, obviously shocked at the lack of food, he then proceeded to go through the few cabinets finding a bag or rice and some instant miso soup mix. He looked at you in shock and you could feel your cheeks turning red with guilt.

“Is this all you have?” Nanami asked, looking at you. You looked from one to the other, before letting your eyes rest on the floor.

“Money has been tight recently,” you explained. Both of them looked from you to the other one, they seemed to reach a silent, mutual agreement before Nanami spoke.

“You do know that this is not an ok environment to be pregnant in, right?” He looked genuinely concerned and it just made you feel so much worse.

“I know it’s not ideal” you said, “but I can’t afford anything else.” There was a gap of silence until Gojo spoke up,

“You could stay in our guest room” he exclaimed “we never use it, and it would allow us to keep an even closer eye on you” He was basically jumping up and down about his new idea.

“I couldn’t” you stammered “I don’t want to impose on your life” Nanami thought for a moment before expressing his opinion.

“Satoru is right'' he paused, “I would be better for you to stay with us, and it would be better for our peace of mind as well.” You were at a loss for words, could you really take their offer? Was that even an ethical thing to do?

“Please” Gojo whined putting his face in front of yours. You took a moment before sighing

“Ok” you said “it still doesn't feel quite right to me” you added. You looked from Gojo to Nanami, waiting to see their reaction. Nanami nodded,

“I understand. But please do not feel as though you are intruding, we are welcoming you” he reassured. Gojo put his hands on your shoulder and pushed you forward from behind.

“Go hurry and pack” he beamed, you staggered forward a bit before whipping around to face him.

“Right now?” you gawked. Gojo just nodded and smiled before ushering you forward again. You looked to Nanami to see what he had to say.

“I mean there’s no reason to delay your move” he remarked. And so it was decided, you were going to move in with them tonight. You went to your room and pulled out a duffle bag and began to pack the clothes you thought you would want most. Before you went back out to them, you also packed your favorite pillow and blanket, along with your toiletries. You made your way out back to the living room where they were still just standing in the middle of the room. Nanami took the bag, and Gojo took your arm, and you all walked back down to the car. Nanami placed your bag in the trunk and got into the car. The ride to their house was fairly long, and you found yourself drifting off, your head starting to fall on to Gojo’s shoulder. He just watched as you fell asleep, making no move to push your head off.

“We’re here” Gojo announced, waking you up from your nap. You got out of the car and came face to face with an upscale apartment building the likes of which you’d never seen. You were in shock as they led you to the elevator and up to their floor, which you could only access with a key.

“We’ll make sure to get you a key tomorrow,” Nanami commented, before pressing the button for the fifth floor. You just nodded in awe. Once the elevator reached the fifth floor the two of them stepped out and into a little hallway type room with the door to their actual apartment a few feet away. Nanami took out another key and unlocked the door, pushing it open to reveal a beautiful entrance room. You walked inside and took off your shoes before allowing yourself to step inside and marvel at the magnificent furniture and design of the living room.

“Let me show you to your room” Gojo proclaimed as he took your arm and led you through the living room, which you could now see was connected to their kitchen, down a hallway and past a few doors before he stopped in front of one. He flung open the door to reveal a room as big as your old living room with a twin bed, a bookshelf, a dresser with a mirror, and a little sofa in one corner. The thing you found most amazing, was the huge window that allowed you to look out onto Tokyo. Nanami placed your duffle bag down on the sofa before turning to see you in a state of shock.

“I hope you like the room” he said “your bathroom is right across the hallway, feel free to put your toiletries in there. Satoru and I’s bedroom is upstairs” You nodded at his words, internally screaming at the fact that the apartment had an upstairs.

“We’ll leave you to get settled” he added “Please come out when you're ready and have some food with us.”

“Ok” you agreed and watched as the two men left the room, closing the door behind them. You flopped down against the bed and relished in how soft the mattress and sheets were. After just allowing yourself to process the events of today, you got up and started to put your clothes into the drawers before you laid your blanket and pillow on the bed. You took your toiletries out of the duffle bag and set them back down on the sofa, you then placed the now empty bag on the bottom of the bookshelf. You picked up the items off of the sofa and left your room and opened the door to a wonderful bathroom with a separate shower and bath so that one could wash off before getting into the tub. The toilet was also fancy. You put your bathing products on the shelves cut into the shower wall and set your toothbrush along other oral hygiene products and your hair brush into their respective places on the sink counter. After taking one last look around the room you made your way to the kitchen where Gojo was sitting on a high bar stool at the counter and Nanami was standing behind the counter cooking something. You took a seat one bar stool away from Gojo and looked at what Nanami was making. It looked like he was putting together rice with a fried egg, topped with, what you were guessing was salmon leftover from their dinner last night, and nori. It looked amazing and you were excited to be able to eat it, because, in all honesty, you were incredibly hungry. Nanami set a bowl in front of you along with a pair of chopsticks.

“Itadakimasu” you and Gojo say in unison. You take your chopsticks, and pick up a clump of rice with salmon on it. Before you can place the bite in your mouth, you feel bile rising in your throat. You carefully set down your chopsticks and cover your mouth before hopping off the stool and speed walking to the bathroom where you promptly threw up the contents of your stomach. You looked up to see Nanami and Gojo standing in the doorway, a look of concern on their faces.

“I’m sorry” you apologized, your voice rough from the acid. You gagged again feeling more bile coming up your throat and you turned back to the toilet bowl and threw up once more. You were breathing heavy, your eyes were watering, and your face felt hot. It wasn’t until you calmed down a bit before you realized that Gojo was kneeling behind you with hand on the small of your back. He quickly supported you as you stood noticing how shaky you were.

“I’m sorry” you apologized again, flushing the toilet.

“Hey, don’t worry about it” Gojo chirped, “You're pregnant.” He helped you two the sink where you washed your mouth with mouthwash. You looked over to Nanami who was still standing in the doorway,

“Thank you for cooking dinner, I’m sure that it’s delicious, but right now I think I really just need sleep” you explained. He nodded in understanding

“Of course,” he said “I understand. If you need anything don’t hesitate to ask, Satoru and I will be staying up a bit later.” You bowed your head and thanked them again before going into your room, changing into your pajamas and laying down. You found it fairly easy to fall asleep thanks to how tired you were, and how comfortable the bed was.

#tw pregnancy #jjk x reader #nanami kento #gojo saturo x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x gojo satoru #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen pregnancy

490 notes · View notes

writingwithadinosaur · 4 years

Text

“Under the Knife” - Part 7

Main Masterlist - Here

Story Masterlist - Here

My Tag List - Here

Hannibal Lecter x Reader, Will Graham x Sister!Reader

Word Count: 2,100-ish

Key: Chunks of text in italics are (Y/N)’s thoughts. Y/N = Your Name, H/C = Your Hair Color, E/C = Your Eye Color

Warnings: Cursing, Violence

Summary: You are Will Graham’s sister who works with him at the FBI. When you get offered a job promotion, life starts to change. Some changes for the better; Some for the worst.

Author’s Note: This is my first Hannibal piece and I am proud of it. There aren’t too many stories for Hannibal, so I figured I would add to the collection.

This does take place in some happy medium where they are all alive and work together. Sort of a happier season 1 era.

This is beta-read by @theeactress, but please let me know if there is something that we missed or that we should look at again!

If you would like to be tagged in any of my future pieces, check out my tag list above and let me know! And as always, feedback is greatly appreciated!

- DreaSaurusREX

Tag List

@fruitloopzzz

@theeactress

@melconnor2007

@ashenfallsof

@geeksareunique

@all-by-myself98

@sj-thefan

@fuck-your-bad-vibes-dude

@ntlmundy

@a-person-unlabled

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

Jack was in the middle of a phone call when you opened his office door unannounced. He gave you an annoyed look until he saw something in your eyes that said that this was important. When he looked to Hannibal, who was behind you, he nodded slightly, letting Jack know that this was for sure something urgent.

“I’m going to have to call you back.” He calmly said before putting the handset back onto the office phone base. “What did yo-”

“I think I finally got into this guy’s brain!” Jack gives you an expectant look.

“Well?! Go on then!” You take a quick breath in as you speak, making your way to one of the chairs in front of Jack’s desk. Hannibal stood off to your right slightly.

“Okay. So, we’ve been looking for a doctor this entire time, right?”

“Yes, we have.” There was obvious hesitation in his voice, worried that you would just widen the suspect list instead of narrowing it down. You continued.

“Right. But what if our killer was actually a patient of these doctors?”

You watched Jack quickly think it over, preparing for exactly what you thought he’d point out. You pulled out a couple of print-outs from within your notebook and waited for Jack to speak. Hannibal peeked over your shoulder at the paper and read a little bit of the top page while Jack spoke.

“It would tie the doctors together, but it wouldn’t explain the method of killing.”

“It does if this patient was a former doctor himself. A plastic surgeon to be more specific.” You hand Jack the papers, letting out a breath that you hadn’t realized you were holding.

The papers were from the initial suspect list you had gotten. You now had one person’s name and photo circled: Henry Urik. The second page was the basic information you had gotten on him early into the investigation.

“Name: Henry Urik Age: 29 Height: 5’11” Weight (Approx.): 205lbs Hair Color: Reddish Brown Ethnicity: White Male Employment: Plastic Surgeon - Inactive”

As Jack read over the papers, you felt yourself slipping into your mental pictures. You found that missing puzzle piece that brought everything together. You could now see it all, feel what he was feeling, and truly attempt to get into his mind. Jack looked up and saw you seemingly phase-out, but he had seen something similar when your brother, Will, would be at crime scenes. He and Hannibal stayed quiet and let you do your thing.

“Dr. Henry Urik started up his own practice relatively recently, but it failed. Probably due to some sexual allegations or misconduct or something. He popped up on the first few rounds of searches that I did, but then I saw that he wasn’t associated with any active practices or facilities, so I took him off the list.

He lost his job, which means he is anxious and stressed, which then potentially and likely leads to a range of psychosomatic ailments; soreness, fatigue, insomnia, and most importantly, headaches. After long enough, frequent or maybe even constant headaches would drive anyone mad. Which is why Henry decides to finally go to his primary care physician: Dr. Everet. I’m sure if we get a warrant and pull a list of all of the patients that have seen our victims over the last 2 - 4 months, we will find Henry’s name on each of them.”

“That’s not a long time to plan out 4, or potentially more, murders.” Jack points out, seeing you come back to reality.

“I don’t think these killings were really thought about or planned to every detail. He didn’t want to just kill them out of anger; that was for whoever else was in the house. He was angry and upset, but we can see that he took his time with the doctors. Maybe focusing on them and using his old medical instruments was a form of relief for him?”

“What kind of relief are we talking about here, Graham?”

“By shifting his focus from himself and his ailments, he’s distracting himself from his anxieties and stressors. Thus seeming to make his headaches dwindle.”

“In other words, pain relief?” You and Hannibal nod in agreement. Jack continues. “Okay, but what makes him so upset that he goes out and murders four doctors and their wives?”

“We’d have to double-check with the notes in his files from each doctor, but I can bet that he wasn’t happy with whatever test results or diagnoses they were giving him.” Before Jack could say anything, Hannibal finally spoke.

“I believe I can confirm that theory.” Both you and Jack turned to Hannibal with confused looks over your faces.

“Is there something you’d like to share with the class, Dr. Lecter?” Crawford had a hint of annoyance in his tone but kept it mostly neutral. You, on the other hand, were trying to look into his mask and see if he was being serious. As far as you could tell, he was.

“Dr. Urik was a patient of mine. I say ‘was’ because I only ever had two sessions with the man. He was referred to me by Dr. Everet. He showed signs of incredible anxiety over the idea of not being able to be in his profession after a patient accused him of sexual harassment during one of their appointments. He also showed signs that could be tied to bipolar disorder or something more severe. Unfortunately, I couldn’t form a full diagnosis after only those two sessions. I haven’t heard from him in roughly 4 months.”

“Which all lines up with (Y/N)’s profile.” Hannibal nodded.

“I tried to explain the possibility of his headaches being a manifestation of his anxiety, but he did not like that answer. Saying that it must be something tangible; something he could fix with medicine or a procedure.”

“Well, that explains why you are potentially his next target.” You spoke your thoughts out loud, which came out slightly snarky.

Hannibal turned his attention to you. You were slightly staring off. To anyone else, it would look like you were zoning out, but Hannibal knew that it was a sign of your mind working hard.

Somehow hearing that Hannibal had a possible solid connection to the killer, a wave of fear hit your heart. You cared about Hannibal, and you knew he cared about you. You weren’t sure he could tell, but one could say you had grown to love this man. And it only took being threatened by a serial killer to let that thought process in your mind.

“So it seems.”

“Aren’t you glad you joined the case now, Dr. Lecter?” You poked fun at Hannibal, the sharpness in your voice only evident to him. You thought you hid your true feelings well enough, but Hannibal could see right through your facade. He knew you were scared. Not only for his well being but your own as well; using humor as a way to make the situation seem a little less harsh.

Before Hannibal could respond, Jack posed a question.

“It doesn’t explain you, (Y/N). Why does this guy want to get to you?” You all pause for a beat. You try to get into Henry’s mindset and see any possible reason as to why you would also be targeted.

“I don’t think there is a reason. Maybe he read the TattleCrime article, saw that I was with Dr. Lecter, and then associated me with him. Or maybe he is following us and knows that I have a role in his case. Whether that means I am actually important to Urik or not, I can’t say for certain. He could just see me similarly to the wives of the other doctors. We won’t know for sure until we can ask him.”

As Crawford makes some decisions in his head, you can’t help but start to twist your ring. The idea of yours and Hannibal’s lives being in danger was a terrifying thought. You didn’t know what you would do if something happened to him and he wasn’t a part of your life anymore. Yes, there was still a ghost of confusion and uncertainty with him at the moment, but that was pushed to the backseat after today’s findings.

You looked away from Jack for a quick second to see if Hannibal showed any signs that he was scared. Much to your surprise, he was not only already looking at you, but through his stoic face, his eyes showed something. You looked away as you heard Jack lean forward in his chair, but you couldn’t figure out what that emotion in Hannibal’s eyes was.

After what seemed like forever, Crawford explained his plan of action.

“Alright, I’m going to get started on getting those files and getting a team out in the field looking for this guy. You two are going to have an armed agent following you until we get Henry in custody. They will be hidden, but know that you two will be protected.” You let out a small sigh of relief. “After you compile all of your notes and initial thoughts on Urik, have them sent to me. Then you two are dismissed for the night. Go get a drink or two. We are going to finally catch this son of a bitch.”

You nod and start to stand up to head to the door. Before you could step away from his desk, Jack got your attention.

“Graham.”

“Yes, sir?”

“Good work.” You couldn’t hide the proud smile that you tried to smother off your face as you said a quick “Thank you, sir” and made your way out of his office, Hannibal behind you.

Hannibal escorts you back to your office. Once you get inside, you and Hannibal spend a solid 20 minutes working out every detail that you could about Henry Urik. You quickly type it all out and send it through to Crawford’s email.

“Alright. Everything is sent and I am ready for a glass of wine and then passing out for the night for some much-needed sleep.” You started to get your bag together as Hannibal sat in one of the office chairs and watched you, trying to get you to be comfortable with him again.

“A well-deserved rest, my dear. You did incredible work today.” You quickly looked up to see him staring at you, a rare smile crossing his face as you two briefly made eye contact. You tried to hide the small blush that you felt creeping its way onto your face.

Hannibal didn’t smile often, and when he did around you, it always made your heart flutter. Getting to see that rare treat and have him compliment you on your work was an unexpected but appreciated way to end the day.

You let out a small “thank you” as you gathered the last of your things. Hannibal stood up and grabbed your coat from the back of your chair. He offered it out for you to slide into, but you didn’t want to wear it, so you took it from him and draped it over your arm. Another small thank you and you two were out the door, headed to your car. After being called out by your killer, Hannibal felt a bigger need to make sure you got to your car safely, even if you were going to have a guard watching you from afar.

He opened the car door, but before you could sit down, he finally asked what had been circling in his mind for the last 30 minutes.

“Would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow? I understand that you have your reservations about talking to me recently, but now that you have done a marvelous job at putting a name to the Virginia Scalpel, I wonder if now would be a good time to try to talk personally. Perhaps even get back to how things were before this case.”

You stood there, the car door being a physical barrier between you and Hannibal. You instinctually fiddled with your ring, mulling over his offer. You can’t help but feel your heart hurt at the lack of time you’ve had with Hannibal. Letting yourself have time to just focus and work on the case over the last week was beneficial. You could now think about more personal things clearly and see that you weren’t as upset with Hannibal as you had been.

You look back up at him and see him observing you, trying to figure out what was going on in that wonderful mind of yours. A small smile grew on your face as you finally spoke.

“What’s for dinner, Hannibal?”

#hannibal #hannibal lecter #Hannibal TV #hannibal fandom #hannibal fanfiction #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal lecter / reader #will graham x sister!reader #Sibling!Will Graham #Will Graham x Sibling!Reader #Sibling!Will Graham x Reader

77 notes · View notes

thelightofthingshopedfor · 4 years

Text

just once, just fucking once I would like to have a reasonably productive long weekend instead of spending most of it too stuck in decision paralysis to actually do much of anything until I reach a point where I feel like I could very well break down crying because I’m too overwhelmed with everything I need to do but I still don’t actually do most of it because the decision paralysis is a huge part of what makes me so fucking overwhelmed in the first place

like. right now probably the most urgent thing is a semi-complicated Etsy commission that the buyer would ideally receive by Dec. 10, which probably means sending it Dec. 7 at the absolute latest. so I should be working on that, right? but it’s going to take a while so it’s a time commitment, especially because it seems kind of pointless to get out a lot of messy supplies to only work on it for a few minutes. and I need to order parts for a different order--well, at least that’s quick. I also really need to reapply thermal paste to my CPU as soon as I can because I think the fan’s getting louder and that can’t be good for anything in there, and theoretically it won’t be that hard, but realistically I’m sure it’s going to take a while and I have to look up a little info on how to do it, first--and it involves my PC being out of commission while I’m working on it, so that’s not something I can do halfway. and while my PC’s open I really need to replace my dead hard drive, which wouldn’t be that hard except I want to install the new one alongside the old one so I can try to clone the dead one onto the new one, which will definitely take time on both the hardware and software sides of things, but it needs to happen sooner rather than later because, again, there’s a lot of stuff I can’t do until I get that done. and I need to send the recent invoices for Hazy’s dental appointment to pet insurance to see if they’ll pay anything, and that should be quick, but nothing ever stays simple. and, shit, I should really do some actual work this weekend because I didn’t get enough done before...and I still need to decide what to do about the vision therapy thing now that it’s clear the best they can do for me is a payment plan for like 36 expensive appointments, ugh. and ah shit I signed up for Yuletide and I’ve done almost nothing, and that’s due...Dec. 17? fuck, that reminds me, I gotta go get a new notebook from my room because I just finished this one, I mean that’s quick and easy but it also means I now have two notebooks that mostly aren’t typed up, which is bad because I can’t do anything with the contents until they’re typed up and of course they’re not backed up (unless I put them in my fireproof safe, and then I’d never get them typed), and typing those is going to take forever, and yeah I’ve been meaning to make it easier on myself by just doing like 15 minutes a day but I haven’t done that at all and they really need to get typed--and, well, I could just do a 15-minute stint, sure, but that seems silly when there’s so much that needs to be done--and, ugh, I’ve sorta been ignoring my email for the last three days and I need to go through that because otherwise I’m guaranteed to miss something I won’t want to miss, but that takes time and it’s going to mean opening up more tabs when there are already too many tabs open (there are always too many tabs open) and I need to deal with those too, and a good share of the emails are probably about Black Friday sales that I’ll probably want to do but that means more tabs and more decisions and shit there’s all that stuff in my Etsy cart that I should really buy sooner rather than later because sometimes Etsy stuff disappears or sells out and then I’ll be sad and frustrated with myself and also some of the things I want to buy are for gifts, which reminds me that I have almost no Christmas gifts yet for anybody, and my birthday is soon so I should probably make some kind of list myself but actually why am I focusing on that at all when the Georgia runoff elections that determine Senate control are in barely more than a month and I need to be writing letters/postcards to voters since I don’t want to phonebank and time zones actually make it really impractical anyway? I was going to do that in a reasonable way this time too, just a few letters a day like I meant to before, use up a lot of these stamps and stuff I still have--and ah fuck it’s been a while since I’ve called my own legislators about anything, I need to do that, that’s theoretically quick because voicemails cut me off at two minutes, although to be able to do that I also have to do at least a little research so I know what’s the most important thing to call about and what to say so that’s more tabs and more time, and I still haven’t fucking reposted the tiny little Endgame fix-it fic I wrote at the end of August, let alone finished anything since then

and I would, on some level, like to work on one of the many, many writing projects that is theoretically close to being done, or one of the recent ones I started because I foolishly and incorrectly thought it was something I could bang out quickly

and on some level I would also like to work on more stuff for Etsy that could be pre-made so it’s not another stress point when I get orders, especially because several things are holiday-specific and some wouldn’t even take that long, but I’d still be choosing to do those instead of more urgent things

and none of that even begins to touch other stuff, like my room that continues to be a disaster and I need to sort through my shit so I know whether I can relist my most popular Etsy item (if I even want to, which I don’t right now because stress), not to mention all the stuff I need to clear out by listing on eBay, and I could do at least one part of that (flatten the boxes I’ve saved for shipping) without committing to a week-long project but even that part would take a solid chunk of time that I should be spending on something more urgent

and we can’t even put up the fucking tree until I move some of my shit away from the spot where the tree goes, which is tough because a lot of it is from work or otherwise theoretically temporary stuff that doesn’t have an actual home, so that’s going to take a while, and then putting up the tree is also going to take a while, and my room is already a disaster so I’d need to clean in there to make room, which would take forever, and for that matter my areas of the living room are generally a disaster too, as always

and while I’m thinking about stuff I brought from work, let’s go back to how I need to do some work stuff because I’m lucky enough to have a decent job with good insurance that can be done from home and I’m still just like...kiiiiiiinda endangering that by not being a functional adult in general? which is at least partly because my brain is a dumpster fire that doesn’t seem to be improving (which is something else to worry about) but regardless of the cause I still have to do something about it? oh yes and speaking of the good insurance I’m kinda endangering by being a fuckup, haha sure hope this knot under my jaw doesn’t turn out to be...you know, the type of bad thing that a knot under the jaw could turn out to be! which is another very good reason I need to stop being a fuckup so I’m not maybe endangering the job that would pay for that, along with all my other medical issues! and also the entirety of our rent because my mom’s really high-risk and the only available jobs she’s qualified for aren’t safe for her to do!

and my knee hurts! and my elbow hurts! and my neck fucking hurts, my head and neck always hurt and I think I’ve been sleeping even worse than usual lately, partly because neck pain and partly just my body fucking hates me, it’s always a problem and I don’t know what to do about it anymore

and now it’s after 8:30 pm and obviously I’ve done none of this, and I’m still tired, and my head and neck still hurt, and there are still so many things I need to do but I can’t choose because the time-consuming things are the urgent ones but I don’t have the time or energy for them and choosing a specific thing (an urgent time-consuming thing, or a less urgent but much quicker thing) means actively choosing not to do one of the other things, and it’s all important, and I can’t fucking choose, and I’m pretty much at a point where I can continue running ever more painful and crazy-making circles in my brain trying to make myself decide something or I can say “fuck it” and do something that would be fun but not urgent or important at all, which I shouldn’t do, so for fuck’s sake I should just pick even one productive thing to do and then maybe let myself do something fun and then get to bed at a good time for fucking once but I still can’t fucking choose and I want to either cry, scream, or possibly hurt myself, and none of this is healthy or productive

and I think possibly my therapist is getting impatient with me for not making much progress and not really having specific goals for our sessions aside from “I hate that my brain is Like This and I want it to not be Like This and no I haven’t done most of the things you’ve suggested and no I don’t have a good reason why, I just want the meds to work so everything won’t be so fucking hard and yes I know that wouldn’t be something you could control even if it was in your wheelhouse, which it isn’t, but I get overwhelmed so fast and I know I need to do better and be better but I don’t know how”

and I wrote this instead of actually doing anything, apparently, because there was at least some chance that dumping it all out would make me feel better or help me see more clearly what I actually need to do, but I think I actually made myself feel worse by articulating just how overwhelmed I am, mostly by things that objectively aren’t actually that difficult or important.

and I still can’t fucking choose.

#brains behaving badly #adhd #I am just...so fucking sick of my brain being...this

13 notes · View notes

whispersafterdusk · 4 years

Text

Lost in Time - ch 13

With the amount of blueprints, lists, material invoices, books, and samples sitting on his desk Xu felt just a bit buried and overwhelmed, but in a good way -- not only had Portia and Atara agreed to pledge funds for an expansion of the clinic but Walnut Groove, Tallsky, Lucien, Meidi, and Ethea had also decided to assist. What was going to be a single additional room had turned into two new floors with six rooms apiece to be added on to the side of the building along with a basement for Stewart's needed power and server storage. It was going to be an ambitious project and take a bit of time but inwardly he almost felt like he was vibrating with excitement.

And what timing too; his old master in Seesai had sent HIM a student. He hadn't seen his master in almost six years now but he could almost picture the old man jumping in excitement over the news of the facility and Stewart (his handwriting definitely portrayed his excitement well - Xu had only ever seen it this messy when he'd written about his granddaughter's wedding) and Xu himself was feeling quite flattered that his teacher had trusted him with the task of teaching. ((Continued below cut))

Of course, Xu would be learning right alongside his student but that didn't matter too much; there was still a lot Xu could teach even if Stewart and the facility hadn't been found.

He was trying to clear off his desk when the clinic door opened and in walked Eli; he caught a glimpse of darkness behind her - it seemed their appointment time was here...he'd lost all track of time and now he was unprepared. Drat.

"Good evening, Eli. I'll just need a moment to clear off a corner."

Eli skimmed his desk and gave him a small smile. "Don't tell me you're changing careers to architect?"

Xu chuckled as he stacked some of the books up on the floor near his feet. "Not at all - I have some exciting news to share, actually." With the books mostly out of the way it was easy to stack up the rest and he managed to get half the desk cleared as she came over and settled on her usual stool; there was a small notebook with a blue cover in her hand - it was good to see she'd brought it today. "Would you like something to drink?"

"No thank you. So what's all the clutter for?"

"Well!" he said as he dropped onto his own seat. "What I had intended to be just one additional room for the clinic has turned into a much bigger project -- Portia, Atara, Lucien, Walnut Groove, Tallsky, Meidi, AND Ethea have all pledged to send funds to turn it into a basement as well as two additional floors - to match the height of what's already here, of course. It seems Portia may become a center for medical knowledge here in the upcoming years!"

Eli's expression changed to one of surprise before shifting into a grin. "That's good news, doc. Didn't think you'd all move so quickly on those measurements I got you."

"I didn't either but once Gale had them in hand he immediately got on the telegraph to send out word. I imagine next we'll be figuring out arrangements for other doctors to come and study under Stewart -- and, speaking of that, my master in Seesai actually has already sent a student to me. He's at the Round Table getting dinner but I can't wait to introduce you two."

"Wow, lucky timing for this student."

"Isn't it?" Xu laughed. "I thought that myself. Oh, and uh - when you meet him, know that he and I already have laughed over -- well, you'll see. I don't want to spoil it."

She gave him a questioning look but he just smiled - it was such a funny happenstance, really.

"How long will it take to complete?" she asked instead.

"I'm not sure - that part is still being figured out, as well as which contracts are going to which builders."

Eli nodded, shifting so she could rest an ankle over her opposite knee; the notebook shifted along with the movement and was now balanced across her thigh. "Well, no rush. Stewart's server banks are UNDER his docking station, and that access door is sealed up tight. No clue how or when we're getting in there..."

"Can he not open the door?"

Eli huffed out a sigh. "Yes, and no. TECHNICALLY yes, he could. But apparently not only is that the floor where his server banks are but that area down there was connected to the secret project his programming is preventing him from telling us about. Because we aren't authorized to know about it he can't open the door for us, BUT, he did say he could turn a blind eye to any attempts to get inside due to enacting his Emergency Protocol programming. His logic, which is apparently good enough for his code, is if I survived all this time there might be more survivors down below, and he's not allowed to willfully allow someone to come to harm inside his facility. I'm...rather uncomfortable with even the remote chance that we'd find someone else down there but since Stewart isn't in any rush I think that's a good indicator that the chance, while not zero, is so small that we're not likely to find anything surprising lurking below."

Xu frowned as he searched across his desk for his clipboard and pen. "That sounds like a lot of needless extra effort and stress. I thought All Source AIs and living AIs were allowed some free will?"

"A human has free will but we all still tend to obey laws."

"Ah." That was a good point. He finally found his clipboard and pen, and then retrieved Eli's file from a desk drawer. "So...how have you been feeling lately?"

She leaned forward to hold out the notebook. "Mostly ok. It's still hard to see the buildings around here. I tried journaling like you suggested but I mostly ended up scribbling things. It's not as easy as it sounds to put thought to paper when you'd rather not be thinking at all."

Xu took the journal from her and thumbed through the first couple of pages - there were a couple of dated entries but as she'd said there were a lot of sketches in here; there were skyscrapers, some boats, something that was a cross between a plane and a truck, squat buildings, some mountainous areas... "These are nice. Were you an artist in school?"

"Not really. I can do buildings and landscapes but don't ask me to try drawing a person or animal. I struggle with plants a lot too."

Xu smiled and kept looking through. "I see a lot of precise things where scale matters, and not as many things where it doesn't. Would you say you enjoy neat and orderly aspects of life?"

"That's one way to put it, I guess."

Xu opened his mouth to continue but the clinic's door opened and in came Phyllis in a rush. She had a paper in her hand and she waved it at him as she hurried across the floor.

"It's done! I did it!"

"That's fantastic!" he replied, standing and almost being bowled over as Phyllis collided with him in a hug. "When will it be available for you to move in?"

"Two months from now," Phyllis answered. She pulled away and was grinning ear to ear.

"...congratulations?" came Eli's somewhat confused response.

Laughing, Xu turned toward her. "Phyllis has been trying to get the owner of a building in South Block to sell for months now. It seems they finally accepted her recent offer so now she'll have a clinic of her own to run here soon."

"Oh - definitely congratulations then," Eli said, nodding to her. "You can never have too many doctors."

"I can't wait," Phyllis laughed - a sound somewhere between elated and relieved.

Xu hadn't seen her so excited or happy in quite a while and it was infectious; he too was grinning as he sat back down. "After such exciting news in such a short period of time I hope we can focus properly."

"No worries, doctor," Eli chuckled. "Some days even just talking about the weather is a welcome interaction."

"Has there been any new troubles for you? You're still settling in well?"

"As well as I can be."

Phyllis folded up the paper and slid it into the pocket of her skirt and then, as she tended to do when she sat in on therapy sessions, quietly took a seat on a stool that was off to the side near one of the cabinets; the movement drew Xu's attention so when the clinic door opened yet again he didn't notice it until he saw Phyllis's head turn slightly to face that way.

Framed in the doorway, looking uncertain as to whether he should venture further inside, was his new student; the young man was named Harrison. His hair was a muddy brown that he kept clipped close to the skin and his eyes were a very dark shade of brown - they almost looked black. He stood at the same height as Xu but was just a tad bit thicker in the stomach area, and was wearing a short sleeved button up white shirt under an open black vest, black pants, and somewhat threadbare canvas shoes.

Xu gestured for him to come in. "Ah, there you are - Eli, I'd like you to meet Harrison."

The Dubei woman rotated around on the stool, looking Harrison up and down. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise. I was briefly told about you and have been looking forward to meeting you all day."

At Eli's confused look Xu began to laugh quietly. She looked between the two and he managed to swallow down the laughter. "See? I told you we'd already laughed over it."

"That's not an act? He just...sounds exactly like you?"

Harrison flushed bright red to his ears. "I don't think it's EXACT, and it's not an act. I personally think it's a bit embarrassing but neither of us can help what we sound like."

Eli scratched just above an ear, blowing out a short huff. "All right then... I guess so long as I can see who's talking it ought to be fine." After a pause she smiled. "Maybe just add your name after every sentence."

Xu chuckled and again gestured for Harrison to come in from the doorway. "We'll figure something out. I wonder if my master even noticed anything."

"I don't think he did," Harrison said. Finally the man came in to stand at the corner of the desk. "At least, he never mentioned it. And I'm pretty sure he wasn't...I don't know, senile or anything. He seemed as sharp as ever." He paused, then gave Eli an awkward smile. "Said me, Harrison, and not Dr. Xu."

They all laughed at that, and once he'd gotten his breath back Xu looked to Eli. "Before we begin I'd like to ask - do you mind if Harrison sits in on your sessions, Eli? It's completely up to you and whatever you find comfortable."

She considered that for a moment, then nodded. "He can stay. Might as well start him off right with a heaping dose of trauma. If he can handle me he should be able to handle anything."

Xu nodded and leaned back in his chair. "All right. At any point if you want privacy I'm sure neither Phyllis nor Harrison would mind leaving the room." He looked to the two to confirm and got a pair of nods; Harrison went to sit on the floor in front of the cabinet beside Phyllis (Xu made a note to go buy at least one more stool for the clinic in the morning).

Then he looked back to Eli, and gave her a gentle nod. "When you're ready."

Eli was silent for a moment, then brushed the loose hair on top of her head to the left. "Well. Recently I've had an indirect problem with Lee."

------------------------------------------------

"Looks like Old Bob is back in town."

It was early morning and Isaac was currently winning his fifth game of Cross Five; Eli looked up from the game board and spied a familiar looking duster coat-clad man wandering up the path. "His name is Bob?"

"He says it is," Isaac answered. He paused and placed his next piece before continuing. "A retired teacher from Vega 5, if he's to be believed. Got tired of where he was and began to wander around. He drifts into Portia every spring and autumn - harmless fellow but hard to talk to."

"What'd he teach?" As Eli watched him the man slowed to a stop, slipped a hand into a pocket of his coat, then turned around and hurried off in the direction he'd come from.

"He's never said. He mumbles a lot - has his better moments, some days more than others. Those days when he's lucid he could talk your ear off."

Eli nodded and placed her next piece - she'd managed to line up four pieces eighteen times in this one game but it seemed entirely too easy for Isaac to block her from a win. "I ran into - well, passed him - the other day. Seemed friendly enough."

Four turns later and Isaac had again maneuvered his pieces so that he had two open ways of winning and Eli could only block one of them. She huffed and reached out to start sweeping her black pieces off the board and into the appropriate leather pouch that held them. "Never was all that great at board games. If we were playing card games our roles would probably be reversed."

Isaac laughed. "Need to learn how to strategize better, young one. Not likely time to squeeze in another game before school starts but if you ever want to hear more of Portia's and the world's history feel free to come by for another game or two."

"I definitely will be - thank you, Isaac."

She handed him the leather pouch of game pieces and stood, moving in the direction of the schoolhouse.

So the man's name was Old Bob and he was also from Vega 5... Merlin hailed from there too and had urged her, several times, to go visit the city someday soon; it was certainly something she had put on her incredibly long To Do list, if only because Merlin had mentioned that a lot of living AIs were still functional out there. Portia's only living - er, living living - AI was Ack and the robot was in need of repair...it baffled her that he hadn't tried to travel to Vega 5 to seek replacement parts since all AIs had self preservation coded into them as a standard. He was missing an original leg, was dinged up, rusted in places and scratched all to hell, and he had chunks of his outer metal shell missing on the top and back of his head -- she could tell that at some point someone had tried building him a replacement leg but the servos whined on cold or rainy days, and it didn't look like there'd been any attempt to fix the holes in his head beyond him adopting a metal pot as a hat. If Vega 5 had a large population of living AIs Eli was pretty certain there was a good chance they could clean, repair, and polish up Ack if he'd just go.

Maybe she could take the robot with her when she went...if someone was going with him it might convince him the trip was needed. She'd bring it up if she ever seriously considered traveling; as it stood she could probably fix him up herself - it just wouldn't be all that pretty. At the very least she should try to get those holes in his head fixed...she could only imagine how much rust might be INSIDE him at this point with such a large area where moisture could get in.

Soon enough the schoolhouse was in front of her and her train of thought regarding robot repairs was carefully set aside for later; the door was unlocked and Eli was greeted with the sight of a thin, dark haired woman sitting at the desk inside the door. She seemed a bit surprised to see Eli but stood to greet her as she walked in.

"Good morning," Eli said. "I won't keep you long - I wanted to ask if you had any history or wildlife books you wouldn't mind letting me borrow."

The woman (Eli was pretty sure her name was Lucy - she'd only ever talked to the woman twice before) nodded to her, clasping her hands in front of her stomach and glancing toward what Eli assumed was the classroom. "We have a few I'm not currently using during our lessons but they're fairly...elementary. Simple, I mean. Meant for younger children. I can order more advanced ones from Vega 5 or Atara, if you don't mind waiting. We'll be needing them in the upcoming years anyway."

"I wouldn't say no to any book, simple or not. I'm not looking to cause any trouble or extra effort though."

Lucy shook her head. "No, it's no problem at all. There's a bookshelf just inside the door there, and it's certainly no extra trouble to order books ahead of time. It may take several weeks though."

"No worries - it's not like I'm going anywhere," Eli replied.

Lucy smiled faintly at that and sat back down; Eli hurried in to the bookshelf and skimmed the titles, picking up two books - one was a history book, one was a children's "survival guide" style book with cartoony, colorful pictures of plants and animals. The information in it was written in very simple terms but it would serve as a decent starting point until she could get her hands on something more thorough. She gave Lucy a wave as she headed out the door with the books tucked under an arm; as she was heading up the street to return to Selene's she spied Adam jogging down the hill, and once he spotted her his path altered so he was running right at her.

"What's up?"

"We've got tracks," was the man's reply. "We didn't 'ear anything last night but there's footprints right outside the back of the tent - they go out to the east toward the river."

Eli frowned. "Great - another unwelcome visitor."

"Right. And with just me and Asher we can't split to go have a look. Arlo's waiting for you out at the camp. I'm going to find Sam and send her out too."

"I'll drop these off at home and head straight out," Eli said, waggling the books at him.

Adam nodded and quickly moved away, disappearing into town in search of Sam; Eli continued on but sped up to a jog and left the books sitting on her bedside table before heading out to the facility. As Adam had said Arlo was standing outside the tent with Asher and he waved at her as she came into view.

"What do we have, gentlemen?" she asked as she finally reached them.

Asher jerked his head toward the tent. "A tie came loose overnight - let in a pretty good draft. When I got up this morning and went to fix it I found some footprints. Can't exactly go traipsing off without some back up."

Eli nodded and headed around to the tent's backside; the tent was a big one and it was clear it was designed to be somewhat modular -- she could see where a middle section could be swapped out and the tent made shorter. The section was attached with heavy zippers on either end that had extra flaps of canvas that could be tied down over said zippers to keep the wind from blowing straight through.

And, as he'd said, there was a mess of footprints. The grass back here was a thick, tangled, fibrous mess - it was enough to keep the person from sinking too deeply into the mud beneath it (and thus avoid any noisy, wet, sucking sounds as they pulled their feet free) but while the grass had mostly sprung back from being trod on the grass blades were still visibly stained with mud, and it was plain to see how the tracks paced up and down the entire length of the back of the tent. Had someone tried getting inside?

"And neither of you heard anything?" she called out.

"Nope," came Asher's reply from the front. "Adam's sure he didn't hear a thing, and since he was out in front he didn't feel the draft. Heck, I didn't feel the draft until I woke up and was getting ready to cook and swap out with him. Came around and..."

As he was talking he'd circled around and was standing at the western edge of the tent; rather than speak further he simply gestured at the tracks and Eli bent down to stick her hand next to a somewhat clear one to get a rough measurement -- the footprint was rather petite so that was likely another reason why this person hadn't sunk into the mud too much even if you took the grass cover into consideration.

"Right...I'll head out and see where these lead." She straightened and looked back to Asher; Arlo was standing with him now too. "You two going to stay put until Adam and Sam get here?"

"I'll come with you," Arlo replied. "Sam can catch up."

She nodded and started to trek to the east; there was an easily followed trail heading away from the tent that skirted along the bottom of the bluffs - someone had obviously been focusing on approaching in a way that would make them especially hard to spot, but luckily for her and Arlo their muddied tracks were still plain and clear in the daylight.

"Isn't this where Mali and Maddie were checking the last time we had someone out here?" Eli asked.

"I believe so. They said they followed the land all the way out to the river - at that time there wasn't any sign that someone had climbed down."

"And when we found the man on the cliffs there wasn't any sign that there'd been a second person," she said after a pause. "If we're going to keep getting snoops from the north I might have to see if I can work up some trail cameras..."

"Some what?"

"Trail cameras. Recording devices you charge up, hide somewhere, and leave running to get candid pictures of wildlife, usually. They're triggered by motion only, to conserve battery life. Though I doubt I could manage anything that could transmit to a computer somewhere...will probably have to rig up a separate hard drive to store things on. BUT, point being, if we can get enough of those up in this area we could probably catch a glimpse of our little spies sneaking around up here. What's to the north?"

"Sandrock is to the immediate north. From what I've been hearing the town's fallen on some hard times and a lot of people have left to go seek their fortunes elsewhere so it's probably easy to go around the town without being seen. I'll see if Gale can send discrete word to the Mayor there and ask about any influxes of people going through the town that seem out of place. We've been seeing a lot of tourists lately because we've completed some roads over the last couple of years so we might not get any definitive answers though."

"It's a good enough place to start. What's further north than that?"

"Atara is to Sandrock's northwest, Lucien is to Atara's northwest, and Duvos is to Lucien's northwest. Highwind and Barnarock are to the northeast, and Ethea is almost directly north of Sandrock."

"And from what Isaac was telling me this morning about the Free Cities and historical politics I doubt we're getting spies from anywhere except Duvos," Eli said quietly. "Ask Gale if he can check in with Lucien and Atara, and...Highwind. Wait, no - Ethea. Or really, any place that's connected to any other place with established transportation. I hope it's not just Duvos that spies on everyone else?"

Arlo shrugged. "I've no idea. I'd certainly hope we've got eyes inside Duvos after our last war with them."

They trudged on in silence for a time; Eli was keeping a careful watch on the bluffs moreso than on the tracks they were trailing -- so far she'd not seen any sign of where a person may have been climbing around, and the cliffs were too tall for her to believe that someone could have just jumped from there (plus, even if they HAD jumped, they'd still need to get back up to wherever their camp may be).

There was no sign beyond the tracks until they finally walked all the way out to the waterfall.

"And there's where our visitor came from," Arlo growled.

The bluffs were still just as tall but there was a narrow shelf that was closer to the ground that extended out to the east and gradually widened right where the waterfall roared over the rocks. Pounded into the cliffside were iron...they looked like iron rods with a wide eye on the end, through which a rope was threaded. Hanging on either end of the line of rods were lengths of knotted rope to help someone scale up the rock face, and then the rope stretched across and under where the waterfall flowed to connect the two ends. The river that the waterfall fed into below them was a good fifty feet down; the steeply sloping rock that made up the sides of this ravine was surprisingly smooth and considering how much water was pouring into its narrow riverbed Eli suspected the current below would be dangerously strong.

"Pretty risky...a tumble from here would probably drown you, assuming you didn't break your skull against the cliffs on the way down," Eli muttered, letting her gaze trace over the rope and then trail down into the river - from up here she couldn't see anything in the river but that didn't mean there weren't rocks waiting beneath the surface either. "Not to mention how uncomfortable it'd be to get soaking wet - it's still pretty chilly."

"It's a long walk to go around to a safer place to cross," Arlo said. "And there's a lot of places out that way where someone could hole up and hide."

She stepped back from the edge of the ravine and eyed the rope-and-rod crossing. "I could easily sabotage that without anyone able to tell until they were using it but I'd rather not murder our spy...I want to catch and have a little chat with them."

"Should we just cut it down and take the rods with us?"

Eli considered that for a moment; it would clue in the spy that someone had definitely found their crossing point but unless they were dealing with a champion of cluelessness there's no way that this person couldn't have known that they'd leave tracks behind. Taking it down now would force them to use another way or to rebuild this spot...but even then there was a lot of territory out here to keep an eye on and not enough eyes to go around.

"Let's leave it for now. I think our best course of action would be to get some trail cameras made -- I can get the cameras and drives out of the computers in the dorm area, and then I'm sure Selene could whip up a case to hold all the pieces."

"Did all computers have cameras in them?"

"Yep," Eli answered. She headed back the way they'd come and heard Arlo following along. "How else would you call someone?"

"Why would you need a camera to call someone?"

"So you could see who you're talking to. Pretty simple to fake someone's voice with the right tech - it's a bit harder to fake someone's face across a video call since those programs were easily detected. Not impossible, but harder."

Arlo was quiet for a few steps. "-and I guess it was nicer to see the person you were talking to as well."

"Yep."

They walked back to the Pig's camp in silence then; Adam and Sam were nowhere to be seen but Asher said they'd arrived and then left not too long after she and Arlo had headed off but that they had chosen to climb up the cliffs and check things out up there.

"Beginning to think we need some backup..." Asher mused after they'd filled him in on the iron rods and rope guard rail. "We always worried that there were still Duvos agents listening in to our telegraphs... Mali got jumped once because of that," he added, looking to Eli. "Word must've made it back to the empire pretty quick about this place. Got a couple people out here spying, noticed that Mali and the others left, and now they're getting bolder."

"With the locking car door it shouldn't be too much of a problem," Eli said after a pause. "There's no way they could break or cut their way in without being noticed. My concern would be just HOW bold they get if they think there's only one of you guys out there."

Asher nodded, rubbing a finger over the scar across his nose. "I already know what it feels like to be considered an easy target, believe me."

"Why would they be so interested to get into a medical facility though?" Arlo asked. "That's not the sort of tech they tend to try and seize."

"Maybe they don't believe it's a medical facility and need to figure it out themselves?" Asher offered, shrugging. "Or maybe they just want to junk it all for parts. I can't begin to imagine how those people think." He looked between the tent and the elevator car. "Mali said she'd come back once the prisoner was delivered, convicted, and she got Greg and Maddie home. If we can catch her before her trip back here we can ask for a couple more hands -- but also if we don't even just having her here too would be a help."

Eli eyed the tent, then nodded to herself. "I can move out here for a bit."

"What, really? You don't have to," Asher said after a pause. "Adam and I've got this for now, no problem."

Arlo sighed, crossing his arms. "Maybe you do but only for people trying to get inside - you can't split up to follow anyone. It might be best if Eli, and maybe myself as well, come out here to help until Mali gets back."

"You sure?" Asher asked again. "It's rough living - we don't mind it but you two-"

"Let's head into town, talk to Gale, and discuss what we'll need to bring back out with us," Eli interrupted, looking to Arlo.

"Agreed. We'll be back in a bit," Arlo said with a nod to Asher. Asher sighed and threw up his hands in a sign of defeat and sat back down on a short stump of wood that was serving as a seat beside the firepit.

They had just reached the edge of the tree farm when Eli spied a figure moving toward them through the trees; she ducked around one and circled further to the west and spied Old Bob wandering toward them. The man had his head down and was tiptoeing through the grass - clearly trying to avoid the worst of the mud. She moved to join back up with Arlo, nodding her head toward the drifter.

"Kind of far out from town, aren't you?" she called toward him.

Bob's head jerked up and he stared around wildly until he finally caught sight of them; he visibly relaxed and offered them a half smile as they came within roughly fifteen feet of each other. "Yeah. Don't like towns after being cooped up in 'em. Seen the walls out there? Open sky. Like being closer to the stars."

"No stars out yet - you're a bit early," she replied.

"I know. Takes awhile to get there. Takes time. Taking my time, yeah?"

"Be on the lookout, Bob," Arlo said then. "We think a thief is hiding out in the marsh somewhere."

Bob flared his nostrils at them and came to a stomping halt. "Thieves. Bah. Nothing valuable on me. Bad business still."

"If you see anyone somewhere they shouldn't be let the Civil Corps know, all right?"

The man nodded his head vigorously. "Wouldn't know who belongs where but I'll try."

They kept walking; Eli turned around to walk backwards and watch Bob's meandering path as he headed toward the rear of the farm where she knew there were some ruins and a old stone wall that was mostly intact, if a bit segmented.

"Does that guy usually get the run of the town?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, does he just go wherever and no one stops him?"

Arlo nodded. "More or less. Of course, he doesn't trespass somewhere he shouldn't go. He sticks to the public areas, or wanders around in the fields -- I see him fishing a lot and scavenging on the beach for shells but he never hangs around for very long. And he's never tried to steal anything or hurt anyone."

"And he's been doing this for years?"

Arlo nodded again; Eli turned around and walked facing forward once she'd lost sight of the man among the trees. Knowing they had another unwanted visitor had her suddenly suspicious of the old man but it didn't take a genius to see how the man's large booted feet were much bigger than the size of the prints up near the tent. Rather than dwell on it she tried making a mental list of things she wanted to tote out to the camp; clothing and food supplies were easy enough but she wondered if Selene would mind if she borrowed a toolbox to keep onsite out there -- usually the builder carried it back and forth but it didn't seem logical for the woman to only have one set of tools.

"Meet you at the city hall," she said once they'd gotten down the road to Portia's gates. As Arlo headed up the hill toward the Civil Corps building Eli headed toward Selene's workshop; the lights were on and there was a steady plume of steam coming out of the exhaust pipe on the roof.

Oh. Along with asking to borrow tools she should also mention she'd eventually need some steel cases for some cobbled together trail cameras.

The roar of machines going full steam greeted her as she pushed the door to the workshop open. Selene was up to her elbows in the guts of a...well, Eli had no idea what that particular machine was but it was disconnected from the rest of the system in here and was in five dozen pieces across the floor.

"You uh...need a hand?"

"Nope! Just have to take the whole dang thing apart to replace a single cog..." came the irritated answer. "Did you need something?"

"A couple somethings but it can wait."

"I'll just be a few minutes more...want to get this thing out before I stop."

"Sure."

Eli shut the door behind her and leaned against the door frame, watching and listening as Selene grunted and griped and finally twisted something loose with an "AHA!" that Eli could just barely hear over the noise of the rest of the machinery running. She fiddled around with a few more metal pieces then chucked the aforementioned cog carelessly over a shoulder; Eli watched it as it hit the ground and bounced off into a corner, chuckling to herself.

"Ok! What'd you need?" Selene asked as she extricated herself from the machine's inner bits. She had oil smears from fingertips to halfway up to her elbow, and Eli could spy a scrape that was thankfully above the oil line but was oozing a bit of blood.

"-you want a second to clean yourself off and get that taken care of?" Eli asked after a moment.

Selene glanced down at the cut - by her expression Eli guessed the woman hadn't even noticed it until it had been pointed out. "Hrm...stupid thing. I knew I shouldn't have tried to increase the belt efficiency at the cost of making that one part that much harder to reach. Oh well! What were you needing?"

There was a sink (Selene called it the "slop sink" ) in the corner next to the control panels for the machinery; it was partially walled off to prevent any chances of water splashing onto anything it shouldn't. Selene beelined for it and started scrubbing the oil and grime off with a soap that looked like sand and smelled like lemons.

"I was wondering if I could borrow some tools to keep on hand out at the facility. I'll be staying out there at the Pig's camp for a couple days and figured I'd keep myself busy putting together a couple of projects -- and said projects will also need some containers to fit into."

"Oooh." Selene's voice echoed oddly in the sink area. "What're you making?"

"They're called trail cameras. You basically have a camera, battery, and hard drive in a box hidden out in the wilds with a motion trigger. It'll record for a set amount of time then turn itself back off. Pretty sure I can put together a couple."

"Neat," Selene replied. A few minutes later and she turned around, hands bright red from scrubbing but with all traces of the oil gone. "Take your pick of what's on the shelves there and if there's something I know I'll be needing immediately I'll let you know."

Eli nodded and moved over to the nearly floor-to-ceiling shelves that took up the lion's share of the northern wall; she'd need some cutters, screwdrivers, maybe a hammer or rubber mallet, a couple wrenches... She began to pick out tools and then jumped a bit when Selene appeared at her elbow.

"Give me the dimensions you'll need and I can work up the outer casings, no problem," the builder said. The woman reached passed Eli to grab an especially heavy metal clamp before moving back over to sit it on top of the disassembled machine. "What's so important about trail cameras that you need to stay out there to make them?" she called over a shoulder.

"Just didn't want to have to walk back and forth a ton," Eli answered. It wasn't technically a lie but it wasn't the full truth; until she and Arlo talked to Gale she wasn't certain she should be sharing any details of new Duvos spies being found in the area. Once she had an armload of things she thought she'd need she carried it over to Selene to let her inspect it all.

"I...think we're good," Selene said after a moment to take inventory of everything Eli was holding. "I don't have any spare boxes to let you borrow but I've got some sturdy bags, if that's ok?"

"Works for me. I'll get you the plans for the camera cases once I've seen how it all needs to fit together."

"Sounds good. Let's go get the bags."

Selene led the way out of the workshop and toward the house with Eli following in her wake. That had been a lot quicker than she'd expected - she was probably going to beat Arlo to city hall at this rate.

---------------------------------------------------

The plan was a simple one: Arlo and Eli would stay awake overnight, sitting at the back of the tent. The zipper had been undone but the upper ties left secured to hide that fact; it would take just one clean swipe with a sharp blade to sever the ties and allow them to come rushing out the back of the tent at any hint of someone snooping around. Asher and Adam continued their shifts as usual, and during the day Arlo and Eli were careful to remain out of sight as much as possible (which was easy considering most of the day they were sleeping anyhow). Tonight was the third night; it wasn't THE most boring vigil Arlo had ever taken but it was definitely dull to be sitting in the silence, in the dark, listening for anything out of the ordinary.

Eli at least had something to do; she was sketching out (in PEN and the flickering light of the campfire, no less) some sort of diagram for a case for those trail cameras she'd been working on in those few hours of the day where being silent wasn't required. The crate of parts she had to work with was sitting at the foot of her cot -- under Stewart's guidance Selene, Petra, and Merlin had cordoned off a section of a dorm floor and had taken apart personal computers there along with some gadgets out of the ceilings and walls. Arlo had a passing interest in Old World tech but didn't know much about it; to him it seemed like an awful lot of parts for what Eli had said would be a "few" cameras. Watching her work was fascinating but it didn't take an Old World expert to see how she had at least twenty of some of those parts - twenty was not something he would refer to as "a few" and thus far she hadn't tossed anything out as unserviceable either.

Maybe it was just overkill for the sake of not having to go back down and take more things apart... Eli had stated she wanted to leave as much of that facility intact as possible in the hopes they could, in the future, utilize it as it had once been (sort of) -- he supposed the less they fiddled with things, the fewer chances something would break.

He moved his attention away from Eli and Old World musings and stretched his legs out; sitting still for hours at a time wasn't something he was used to (or especially liked) and with him and Eli keeping a low profile out here they'd postponed their usual morning training sessions. There was a small concern that whoever was spying would notice the sudden change if they'd been watching the city too but there wasn't much that could be done about it; he wished something could be done for how restless he felt.

Well...he shouldn't be dwelling on THAT particular part of it. A couple days - maybe a week - without a morning run wouldn't kill him.

With a silent sigh Arlo leaned back and braced his hands against the floor behind him; the ground under the tent was lined with a thick, rubber-coated canvas and it squeaked quietly as he shifted and the flashlight in his back pocket rubbed against it. The tiny noise drew Eli's attention and he mouthed 'sorry' at her -- she nodded and went back to her sketching.

As he'd already done dozens of times tonight he closed his eyes and went through a mental tally of the "normal" noises: the sound of Eli's sketching (barely noticeable), the pop of the campfire out in front, the slight creaking of rope as the wind caused the tent to shift from time to time, the whistle of that same wind across the opening in the top of the tent that would let the smoke of any fires filter out (Asher said during winter the campfire had been INSIDE the tent for better warmth but it wasn't needed now). There was the sound of the grass against Asher's boots whenever the man got up and paced around; if he turned his head slightly to the right Arlo could hear the soft sounds of Adam breathing as he slept.

Everything seemed both too quiet and also too loud. It was honestly starting to drive him a bit crazy.

But then there was a...noise. Hardly more than a whisper of something against something else. It was so quiet Arlo couldn't identify what had caused it but it was different enough against the backdrop of sounds he'd grown so accustomed to over these last few nights that it stuck out as clearly as someone clapping their hands to get his attention.

Arlo opened his eyes and looked to Eli; she had her head tilted back, eyes toward the roof of the tent. He turned his head a bare fraction of an inch to his left and closed his eyes again -- there it was again. Something rasping against something. Grass on...on something. He still couldn't tell what it was.

Again he opened his eyes and glanced over to Eli; she was moving, ever so slowly, to put her notepad and pen down. The only thing moving were her hands - her head was still angled toward the roof. In the campfire's dim light Arlo noted her eyes flicking over to him; when the notepad was safely deposited on the floor she used her hands to lift her backside off the floor and then gingerly turned herself over so that she was on her hands and the balls of her feet. Arlo imitated the movement - there was no squeaking from the flashlight he had in his pocket this time.

Eli silently raised a hand and pointed a finger at him, two fingers toward her eyes, and then those same fingers at the unzipped section of the tent.

With a careful gesture he indicated the knife that was sitting within reach of both of them; she nodded to him, then pointed to herself, then to the front entrance of the tent, and then made a circle motion with her hand.

He understood all that as she wanted him to take the knife and watch the gap in the tent, and she was going to...circle around from the outside, he assumed.

Very, very carefully he stood and crossed the few feet between where he'd been sitting and the back "wall" of the tent; the rasping noise was slightly louder now and he felt it was coming from a point somewhere below his head -- that made sense, if this were footsteps he was hearing. He stopped a hair's breadth away from the canvas and waited, hardly daring to breathe but holding the knife at the ready; there was a tiny gap between the zippered ends of the canvas but it was so narrow he couldn't see a thing through it...but he was certain that if someone was out there and tried to mess with the ties again that he would see the fabric move and know that it was time to strike.

A very quick check showed that Eli was creeping out of the tent; he returned his attention to the zippered canvas and waited.

------------------------------------------------

Asher had seen her out of the corner of his eye; he looked surprised for a moment, then immediately concerned but to his credit he didn't say a word nor did he get up from where he was sitting on the stump beside the fire.

Eli gestured to him - he needed to stand up (QUIETLY), and go around the tent on the western side. He seemed to get the gist of it, much like Arlo had, from her silent hand movements. That was good. If they circled around at the same speed, even if they were heard coming, they'd catch whoever was back there between them. She was really hoping it wasn't a wild animal.

Thankfully around the front of the tent the grass had been trampled beyond recovery; it was too wet and too broken to make any noise as she moved across the tent's front side but once she reached the eastern corner she knew she'd be making noise as she moved.

It couldn't be helped, but it could be mitigated if she moved slowly enough.

Even at a snail's pace it didn't take long to get to the back corner of the tent; she was still out of sight, and still hadn't seen or heard any indication that whatever was behind here knew she was there.

She took a deep breath, counted to three in her head, then jumped out around the corner.

And...what--

She could see through to the other end of the tent but there was a-

Oh hell.

As Asher came around his corner there was a vaguely human-shaped area back here that was like trying to peer through a window smeared with petroleum jelly -- indistinct, blurry, almost impossible to see the outline of in the dark.

Eli rushed forward for the middle-most area of the blurry blob; whatever it was ducked her swung fist and for a brief instant disappeared against the backdrop of the landscape now that it wasn't directly between her and Asher.

"What in the world-"

Eli ignored Asher and hurried forward with her arms outstretched toward where she THOUGHT the cloaked figure had moved; something struck her arm hard and knocked it away, and the blur moved closer to the tent in response. In the same instant the back segment of the tent flew open and Arlo stepped out and the blur struck out at him. It clipped his ear and shoulder and instinctively he swung the knife -- to Eli's surprise it connected solidly.

So solidly in fact that it was yanked out of Arlo's hand and now she could see the handle of the blade seemingly floating in midair in the midst of the smear-shaped person; he'd stabbed their spy in the shoulder - upper arm, at least, judging by the height. Eli aimed a flurry of punches in the general direction of the knife's handle and the blur retreated rapidly and right into Asher who got his arms around part of them but then immediately took what Eli assumed was the back of the person's head to his nose and his grip loosened enough that the figure slipped out.

The handle went blurry for a moment and then was moving down and to the side - the cloaked figure had yanked it free and was now wielding it -- or, was, as almost as quickly as they'd pulled it free they launched it at Asher. Thankfully it hit him hilt-first but it was still a solid blow; Eli heard the sound of metal hitting what could only be teeth followed by Asher's grunt of pain, and the figure didn't pause before landing a solid (and nearly impossible to see coming) fist into Arlo's sternum.

As the figure then turned and rushed her Eli swung again; her knuckles grated against something plastic-feeling, ribbed and with tiny beading, and it was confirmation enough to determine that this person had somehow got their hands on an Active Camouflage Environmental Support Suit - or as they were sometimes called an "Access Suit." It was a jumpsuit covered in sensors, wires, and tiny projectors that could render someone more or less invisible to the naked eye and also contained a small generator that scrambled camera feeds to make them harder to spot there too. How the hell had one of these survived 300 years?

It clearly wasn't fully functioning since Eli could see the human-shaped blur but even then...just...how in the hell?

'It can't be an original. There's just no way,' was repeating over and over in her mind as she was bowled over by the figure.

As she hit the ground and rolled she reached to the small of her back; Selene had fashioned her two holsters for that revolver she'd taken off the first spy. One was a thigh holster that she planned to wear when warmer weather hit, and the other went at the small of her back which allowed her to hide the gun under her jacket. She really, really didn't want to take a pot shot at this spy -- she didn't want to have to shoot anyone at all since this world lacked the medical equipment needed to assure a high survival rate.

The problem in this immediate moment though was if Duvos had the plans for those things and equipped their soldiers with them it would be disastrous for the rest of the continent, but if this spy was a one-off and she took care of this right here, right now...

She drew and aimed for what she thought was the center of mass and then fired off all three rounds in the gun. For a moment she swore she saw the blur stagger but then it was too far out into the darkness to be visible.

They were gone.

Behind her Arlo was checking on Asher, and there was the brief sound of pounding feet as Adam care tearing around the edge of the tent barefoot and without his coat on.

"What the 'ell happened?!"

"We had a visitor," Eli sighed. "It's not good news."

Arlo helped Asher stand up, steadying him as he swayed; Asher tilted his head forward -- blood was pouring out of his mouth and nose both. He fumbled for a handkerchief and once he'd gotten it half out of his pocket Arlo snagged it and held it to the man's face.

"What even was that?" Arlo asked. "It was like trying to see the wind."

"That was an Access Suit. And it's not a good thing if Duvos has their hands on one and figures out how to make them."

Asher moved his head to the side to spit around the handkerchief - there was something small and white in it. "Great. So now our spies are invisible."

"Not ENTIRELY invisible. Which is the only silver lining here -- if you can see the person in the Access Suit it means its not working correctly. We shouldn't be able to see ANYTHING but we could see enough to sort of tell where they were." She flipped the cylinder out on the revolver and collected the casings - they could be reused and ammo was about to become a commodity - then slotted in three more bullets and clicked it closed again before returning it to the holster at her back. "Which also means the trail cameras are going to be useless because those suits are designed to mess with cameras too."

Adam looked at her, confused. "Invisible suits? Screwing with cameras?"

"Wouldn't tampering with a camera alert someone to your being there, though?" Arlo asked. He was still holding Asher steady; the blonde finally lifted his head to look ahead at Eli and flashed Arlo a thumbs up as he took over holding the handkerchief to his face.

"It does, but you still can't physically see the person in the suit and looking through a camera feed just gives you a general idea of where they are."

"So, sort of what we just saw but weren't supposed to see," Asher said. His voice was muffled and distorted - like a small child holding their nose to speak funny. He also had a slight whistle to his speech now and Eli assumed he'd either broken a tooth or had it knocked out of him entirely. "Just something blurry without much of a shape."

"Shouldn't we be chasing this spy?" Adam interrupted then. "They're getting away!"

Eli shook her head. "No point to chasing something we can't see." She turned to Asher and Arlo. "Head into town and get yourselves looked at by Dr. Xu. I can hold the fort down with Adam - I can't guarantee the spy won't come back tonight though. We know about their little secret now but they're still pretty hard to spot."

"I don't think I need Xu," Asher replied. "Just a bloody nose and chipped tooth."

"Does the tooth hurt?"

"No more than my nose does."

Eli let out a long sigh, turning to look after where the spy had run. "Well. Even still - whether you chipped down to the nerves or not it'll probably have to come out."

There was a quiet groan from behind her. "Damn it...gonna have to go all the way to Seesai to get a fake one, too."

As she turned around she saw Adam rolling his eyes at Asher. "You can get 'em in Ethea you uppity bucket head."

"Yeah but they aren't as real looking as the teeth that woman in Seesai makes, and they discolor a lot quicker than hers too. I don't want a random yellow tooth front and center in my mouth."

"Boys," Eli interrupted, smiling a bit. "Worry about your vanity later and get cleaned up."

The three headed around the western side of the tent; she heard a faint "at least this time you had your pants on" from Asher (probably - hopefully - aimed at Adam). Before she left she went and picked up the dropped knife -- it was a 6-inch long blade that folded into a heavy metal handle that was inlaid with wood pieces. She stuck it into her waistband and glanced out toward the marsh.

That spy, if they were smart, would lay low for a few days - especially if they had a stab wound to tend to.

Actually.

"Hey guys - I'm going to go talk to Xu," she called out as she rounded the corner of the tent.

Inside Adam was helping Arlo clean Asher's face up; they had poured a bottle of water into a bowl and were alternating between a wet cloth and a drier one as they dabbed off blood and assessed the damage to Asher's lips, nose, and teeth. When she poked her head through the flap only Adam looked up to her.

"What for?"

"Arlo managed to stab the bastard. If Xu has anyone coming in with a stab wound on their upper extremities anywhere..."

Now the man gave her a grin. "Then that'd be our bastard."

"Exactly. I'll be back in a bit."

---------------------------------------------

It was early morning; he wasn't used to being up this early yet - his master tended to spend the morning hours catching up on correspondences over a cup of hot tea so Harrison would get to sleep in until it was time for his lessons. Xu didn't respond to any letters that Harrison had seen yet, nor did he drink (or even like) tea, but he definitely shared the master's habit of getting up bright and early to get tasks done. It wasn't a habit Harrison had picked up from either of the two and it wasn't one he WANTED to pick up either but it didn't seem like he'd get a choice regarding it.

The last couple of days Xu had opened the clinic to let Harrison inside, then had let him mind the place for an hour or so while Xu went on a morning walk to pick fresh herbs; the next couple of hours afterward were spent learning the different ways of preparing the herbs into different remedies. Harrison's master (who was also Xu's master - so, their master?) had taught him a lot about teas, tinctures, salves, and other similar things but had mostly focused on the sorts of materials one would find in Seesai. Xu knew all about that and then some -- Portia had a surprising amount of wild-growing herbs all around the city and Harrison loved learning the name, the feel, and the smell of each new one.

Xu had seemed a bit distracted this morning when he'd let Harrison inside; there was a new pile of paperwork on the doctor's desk regarding the clinic expansion -- he hoped nothing had fallen through on those plans. Xu was so excited and so was he; the thought of studying medicine under a real living AI...it was more than he could have imagined.

A little bit scary too. Would the Church get mad at him? Surely they wouldn't begrudge knowledge that cured the sick and helped the injured.

His thoughts were interrupted when the clinic door opened; he actually jumped a bit at the sound -- who would be here this early? Xu had barely been gone ten minutes.

It was a slender, petite woman. She had damp black hair pulled up into a bun on the top of her head, big blue eyes, pale skin, and had a thick scarf on along with a jacket that she was only wearing on the right side of her with the left half of the jacket flapping free.

Her left lower arm was swaddled in a pale blue towel that had a slowly spreading bloodstain on it.

"Oh, dear - you're bleeding. Come in."

The woman nodded and scurried over to the desk; Harrison instead waved her over toward the hospital bed area where a rolling metal table sat then he quickly washed his hands before heading over himself. He carefully guided her arm over the table and began to peel the towel back.

"Good morning. I was on the beach and fell onto some driftwood and it uh...stuck."

Harrison gingerly pulled the towel free and winced when he revealed the stick of driftwood that had pierced cleanly through the outer edge of her arm. The ends had some scrape marks and had been clearly broken off on each end; it had probably been a much longer piece and she'd broken it down to size to get the towel around it. It was about as thick as his pinky finger and at first glance it looked to be just through the upper layers of fat and skin - it didn't seem deep enough to have knicked an artery or damaged muscle. "Can you move your fingers?"

She wiggled her fingers but it was clear it hurt to do so; he nodded and hurried over to a cabinet.

"That's good - let me get a few things to numb that so I can remove the stick."

"Ok. I'll be glad for some numbing - it hurts."

He came back with an armload of bottles and rolls of gauze, and the little leather-bound kit that held Xu's surgical tools. The woman was surprisingly calm as he set to injecting an anesthetic but a few moments later it was clear it was kicking in as she visibly relaxed; she wriggled a bit to let the jacket fall off her and into the floor.

Now he set to opening up the things he'd need and cutting a few lengths of gauze to have immediately at hand for when he got that branch free; with everything ready he paused to take a final, careful, close up look at what he was about to tackle.

As he'd already noticed the stick was about the width of his pinky; it seemed incredibly bad luck that the branch had penetrated rather than just snapped as it didn't seem all that strong. Without the ends of the stick he couldn't really tell which direction the stick had penetrated from - the best he could guess was it entered from the back of the arm and come out the top and the branch was a little lose inside its "hole" on the top of her arm - a bigger exit wound than entry.

Very carefully he tested how easily it could move; to his surprise it seemed very willing to slide out of place and soon he had the little eight inch long piece of wood in hand.

"Wow, that was easy."

He offered the woman a reassuring smile. "It sure was - you're lucky. Now to clean it up."

The edges of what he thought was the entry point of the injury were pretty neat and had an obvious ring of dirt around it. The bleeding had mostly stopped, which was a good sign; he pulled out a tiny penlight from Xu's surgical kit and had a quick look around the inner part of the entry wound and didn't see any immediate debris that might be stuck in there -- no splinters or anything like that. When he checked the bigger top hole though he could see dark slivers of polished-looking wood.

Clicking off the penlight he swapped it for a pair of tweezers and began plucking the splinters free. Once he'd gotten all that he could see he sanitized the edges of the wound (though he couldn't quite get all the dirt off from the entry point - maybe that was the start of bruising instead) and flushed saline through the entire puncture to clean out any dirt or sand that he couldn't see.

"All right...now-"

At that moment the clinic door opened; Harrison paused mid-sentence and looked up to see Dr. Xu framed in the doorway with a bundle of something leafy and green in one hand. At the sight of them Xu let the plants drop to the floor and hurried over.

"What happened?"

"She says she fell," Harrison answered.

The woman looked between them with clear confusion on her face. "Am I hearing double?"

"No, sorry," Xu replied. "We just sound alike. Funny coincidence."

The doctor came over and, to Harrison's surprise, didn't immediately take over from him; in fact he seemed more interested in gauging what Harrison had done thus far.

"Well at least you're not twins," the woman laughed.

Harrison managed a smile at that but went on with finishing cleaning out the wound. "As I was about to say, I can't stitch this up because there's a risk that if there's anything in there that the saline didn't get out it'll cause an infection. What you'll need to do is keep this clean, change the bandages several times a day - especially if they get wet, sweaty, or dirty - and let whatever drains out of there drain out. If it starts bleeding again or gets infected come right back and we'll see what else needs to be done."

As he talked to looked over to Xu; the man was nodding approvingly at him, and Harrison felt a small surge of pride before he turned his attention back to the woman.

"Ok. Can I buy some things for pain and also some bandages?"

"Of course," Xu answered before Harrison could. He left Harrison to finish up with the injury and went over to begin gathering what the woman would need.

She looked between them again and then leaned in toward Harrison. "So are you two...related, or something?"

Harrison shook his head and began to slather on an antibiotic cream. "Nope. He's my teacher."

"Oh. Wild. Are you both from here?"

"I'm from Lucien," Harrison replied. "I'm not sure about the doctor."

The woman grinned at him. "I'm from Lucien too. Small world."

Harrison paused to smile at her, then began to wind the bandage around her arm. "Way smaller than it used to be, that's for sure."

Xu came over then with a cloth bag; the woman visibly winced when Xu put a hand on her right shoulder and he was quick to yank it back.

"I'm sorry - I didn't mean to hurt you."

"It's ok. I think I uh, sprained my shoulder when I fell. I tried to catch myself but managed to flip myself over and really waggle this thing around when I did." She pointed at the length of wood taken out of her arm. "I probably made it a lot worse."

"It's really not that bad. I'm actually surprised." Harrison tied off the bandage and straightened, blowing out a sigh. "You got really lucky. It was a really clean wound."

"I guess so." The woman turned to Xu and eyed the bag. "How much is that."

"This should last you four or five days and it's 460 gols."

The woman held her good hand out for the bag then seemed to think better of it and began to dig in her pockets instead. "That's a lot less than I was expecting. I'll take it."

Harrison started cleaning up as Xu handled the money and final instructions for the wound care. When the woman had gone Xu then retrieved the bundle of herbs and came over to sit them on his desk.

"Quite a morning, it seems."

Harrison nodded as he swept the soiled gauze into the trash can and began to clean up blood spots. The section of driftwood was still on the table; he picked it up and turned it over in his hands, then found it easily snapped in two between his fingers. "What rotten luck to have fallen in just the right way to get this through your arm."

He threw it away on top of the gauze and went to wash his hands.

#Lost in Time #lit #Lost in Time - ch 13 #Arlo #Dr. Xu #Phyllis #My Time at Portia

3 notes · View notes

fleckcmscott · 5 years

Text

Watch What Happens - Chapter 7

Chapter links: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

Summary: Arthur, an aspiring comedian, has struggled to find normalcy and compassion his entire life. Y/N, a hard-working paralegal and transplant to Gotham, has just been put on a case for the Wayne Foundation. When they meet, unexpected sparks fly.

Chapter warning: Adult Situation, Swearing

Words: 1,927

When Arthur arrived back home, it was nearly seven. He’d gone to Pogo’s, again, to try to get a spot to perform. No money was coming in and he was desperate for a chance. With a sigh, the manager had told him about an upcoming open-mic night for new comics next Tuesday. That gave him almost a week to perfect his set. He hadn’t hesitated when he signed up. Until then, he’d continue to practice his facial expressions and punchline timing in his bathroom mirror.

Penny still didn’t know about his firing from HaHa’s - he didn’t want her worrying. In the morning he’d leave the apartment and search for work a couple of hours, going from business to shop to anywhere. He hadn’t had any success. There weren’t a lot of opportunities for an uneducated clown with an unstable employment history, even if he had a work ethic.

Luckily, he never had to be out too long to hide his unemployment from her. Penny didn’t pay much attention to the exact times he was around and rarely asked questions. As long as he was there to check the mail, get meals, keep her company for a few minutes, and watch Murray Franklin, she didn’t pry. At times he wished she would, but her lack of meaningful attention was currently convenient.

It also meant he didn’t have to tell her that his therapy appointments and medication access had been stopped due to budget cuts. That had been a blow. He didn’t understand how something he’d been court ordered to participate in could be taken away. The appointments weren’t particularly helpful, he thought. But they were something on his calendar, and he hadn’t missed a single one. He’d shifted his work schedule around, missed out on good gigs to get to them. He’d written in that damn journal, the one thing that seemed to do him some good, every day. At least he could continue with that.

Fuck. And to be told right after the first date in his life…

He smiled softly, thinking about Y/N. If the day had ended after their pie and stroll together, it would have been perfect enough to frame. She’d asked him about his condition, seemed to be curious about it in a caring way. At first, he was uncomfortable talking about it. Normally, his involuntary laughter only came up when he was apologizing for it. But she had discussed his affliction in a way that stopped him, at least temporarily, from feeling like a freak. And the way she’d caressed his hand at the diner when she’d noticed his discomfort… It had been wonderful to be touched by someone other than his mother.

As they’d walked together, their steps in sync, he longed to put his arm around her waist. To feel the warmth of her body against his side, turn his face into her hair and kiss her head, the way he’d seen in films. And, if he did that, every person they passed would know that she was with him. This city that he hated, its thoughtless inhabitants, would know this beautiful, accomplished woman had chosen to spend her time with Arthur Fleck.

He would never comprehend that choice. But he was grateful for it.

When she had given him a pen and paper to write his address and number, it took him a moment to gather himself enough to jot it down. He hoped he’d been able to keep the look of shock off his face. To his surprise, Y/N had called that night to thank him for taking her out. She’d given him her home number, too, which he’d written on a paper taped to the wall next to the phone, and on a paper that he’d put in his wallet, and in his notebook. The conversation had been short, sweet, and she’d asked if she could call the next night.

Christ, she had to ask? He’d finally have something to look forward to after watching television with his mother.

Since then, they’d spoken for at least a minute or two each night, though their conversations had gotten a little longer with every call. Admittedly, Y/N called him most of the time. He’d been confident enough to reach out twice, though, and he felt good about that. He could tell she’d been pleased, too.

During every conversation, Y/N asked him to tell her a joke. Arthur happily obliged. Her gentle groans and chuckles made him grin, and caused a tight feeling in his chest. More than once, he’d pinched himself to make sure he hadn’t made her up - afterward, she was always still there.

The facts he’d learned about her went straight into his journal, so he could reread them multiple times a day. She recently started work on a case involving the Wayne Foundation. (”Will I ever stop heering that name?”) She lived in Burnley. (”Three train stops or a 40 minut walk away!”) She’d been divorced for over ten years, but it had been mutual, so, in her words, “no baggage there.” That last one made him painfully aware of his own inexperience.

When she pressed him to talk about himself, it was hard to know what to say. He couldn’t tell her he was on a ton of medications, or that he’d been in Arkham. She’d already claimed to have accepted his laugh - he wasn’t going to press his luck this soon.

No one besides doctors and counselors, and occasionally Gary, usually wanted to hear anything about him. And he thought he’d covered everything he didn’t have to hide in the diner. “There isn’t much to tell,” he’d breathed.

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to see you again, Mr. Fleck.” Her voice had dropped conspiratorially. “Can you come by for dinner Friday night? Around seven? I know it’s short notice, but it would be great if you could.”

Oh my god.

His pulse sped up. He pressed his palm against his chest. “Yes. Yes, I think I can. I can.” He wrote her address down shakily, as if he was afraid the pen would stop working.

“Great. I can’t wait to see you, Arthur.”

After he’d hung up the phone, he’d been so thrilled he did a little two-step. Then he went into the bathroom, the only room that would lock and guarantee him a moment’s peace, and turned on the shower. He’d stepped in, taken his erection in his hand, and stroked and tugged himself to completion. Remembering her voice, imagining it was her hand on him, his mouth on her lips, on her neck, between her thighs. The water muffled his cries as he leaned against the wall with his arm.

Now, Thursday evening, Arthur was mopping the kitchen floor, a cigarette hanging from his lips. The radio was on, playing Lawrence Welk, and he swayed to the music. He hummed softly, his movements becoming more of a dance as his thoughts turned to tomorrow night. She’d be cooking for them, for him. Even though he was never hungry, he’d do his best to enjoy whatever she made. He wondered what her apartment would be like, sure it would be as warm as she was. Would there be candles? Did the wallpaper have flowers on it? Should he bring something?

He brought the mop handle up closer and led it around like a partner, feeling a little foolish but also enjoying himself. He closed his eyes. “What, Y/N?” If he concentrated hard enough, he could almost feel her against him. “You want me to do what?” Chuckling, he shook his head. “You don’t mean that, you-”

The door buzzer broke him out of his fantasy. Who the hell would be coming over now? Furrowing his brow, he straightened and leaned the mop against the counter. He smoothed his hair back, plucked the cigarette from his mouth, and opened the door.

Gary stood there, a small smile on his face. “Hey, Arthur. How’s it going?”

“Gary, hi.” Arthur had never had a co-worker over before. He didn’t mind the intrusion, though. “What are you doing here?”

Gary lifted his arm and held out a small plastic bag. “You forgot to take these when you left.”

Arthur took the bag and looked inside it. A couple of pots of blue and red makeup were in it, as well as brushes he’d left on the vanity at HaHa’s. He nodded at the thoughtful gesture. “Thanks.” He motioned towards the apartment with his left hand. “Do you want to come in?”

Gary looked surprised, but stepped forward. “For a minute, yeah.”

“Happy, who’s that at the door?” Penny’s voice came from the bedroom.

Arthur closed the door, then turned and called back to her. “No one, mom. They had the wrong apartment.” He looked down at Gary apologetically. “My mother…”

“It’s okay.” Gary put his hands in his pockets and leaned back against the wall. “So…have you got a new gig yet?”

It felt strange to Arthur to have a conversation with Gary in his own entranceway while towering over him. As there were no chairs nearby, Arthur moved to sit next to him on the floor. “Not yet. I’ve been writing a lot though. Five jokes in a week. Actually,” he brightened, “I’ve got a show on Tuesday. It’s not paying but it’s a start.”

“That’s great,” Gary said.

“Yeah.” There was a long pause, then. Arthur looked at Gary as he took a drag off his cigarette. “And I… I have a date tomorrow night.” He hoped he hadn’t crossed a line. They hadn’t been close, but Gary had never made fun of him. He had merely needed to tell someone besides Penny.

Gary looked genuinely happy for him. “Who is she?”

It was strange but good to talk about Y/N to someone. “Her name’s Y/N. She’s pretty.” Even though he still didn’t understand what she did for work, he said it with pride. “She’s a paralegal.” He laughed softly. “It’s crazy. I met her at a grocery store. Now I’m going over for dinner.” A sigh escaped him, his eyebrows lifting as insecurity filled him. “She’s important to me. And I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Gary pursed his lips. “Did she invite you over for dinner or dinner?”

Arthur blinked at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“How long have you known each other?” Gary asked.

Arthur did a quick count of the days in his head, then shrugged. “Three weeks?”

Nodding, Gary said, “Hm. Just be a gentleman. Don’t try too hard. And be ready in case she wants dessert.”

Arthur caught his meaning then and felt himself blush. A short chuckle escaped him as his hand went to his forehead. He made a mental note to go through all his Murray Franklin tapes and re-watch every Dr. Sally segment he could find.

Gary straightened then. “Well, I gotta go. It was good seeing you,” he said.

Arthur pushed himself off the floor. “Sure.” He reached for the doorknob, thinking a moment before opening the door. “Gary, you were the only one at HaHa’s that was nice to me. Thanks.”

Gary took a step back through the door frame, a small grin on his face. “Take care, Arthur.”

“You, too.” Arthur started to close the door as Gary started down the corridor, but thought better of it and stuck his head out into the hallway. “Gary?”

Gary turned around. “Yeah?”

Arthur paused, then went for it. “You can tell Randall I have a date. If you want.”

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve@clowndaddyfleck @stephieraptorr @rommies

#arthur fleck #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck fanfic #arthur fleck x ofc #arthur fleck x female reader #joker 2019 #watchwhathappens

70 notes · View notes

isitgintimeyet · 5 years

Text

Letting Go

AO3

Hope you enjoy this chapter. Next post will be slightly later than usual - I’m away for a long weekend in France.

Thanks to @mo-nighean-rouge for the beta and @happytoobserve for the encouragement

Chapter 11: Honesty

Honesty is such a lonely word Everyone is so untrue Honesty is hardly ever heard And mostly what I need from you

Billy Joel

The first thing Claire noticed as she and John entered the private hospital room was the sheer number of cards, fruit baskets and balloons covering practically every surface. The second was that a bunch of flowers was currently being held, rather sheepishly, by Jamie. He shuffled his feet a bit and muttered a greeting to John and Claire.

Anna appeared to be well on the mend. Although still wired up to various machines, with her arm in plaster and a large bandage covering part of her cheek, she looked more like a lady entertaining in her boudoir, rather than having been involved in a potentially fatal accident.

Her speech, however, presented a different picture. Her voice was weak, hesitant, stumbling over words.

“Hello,” she rasped, her voice quiet. “Look… at the flowers… Jamie has bought me… not allowed.”

Claire smiled. “I know, they’re glorious. Hydrangeas, aren’t they? But, you’re right, they’re not allowed in the room. Infection prevention.”

Jamie smiled and finally looked at Claire. “Aye, I was told hydrangeas. I dinna really ken, I’m no’ too good with the flowers… or when to give them… apparently.”

********

Nine years ago

“Why do you never buy me flowers, Jamie?”

“I dinna ken… it’s like flowers are fer when ye’re trying tae make an impression, when ye dinna ken where ye stand or it’s fer an occasion. But us, Sassenach, do we need flowers? Would that make a difference tae us… tae how ye feel about me?”

“I guess not.”

“But, Sassenach, If flowers are important tae ye, I’ll remember that, I’ll bring ye flowers.”

“No, Jamie, there’s no need, honestly. You’re right.

“Anyways, I dinna need flowers tae show ye how I feel about ye. I can tell ye… I can tell ye all the time. In fact I’ll never stop telling ye what ye mean tae me, Claire Beauchamp.”

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

“Mary’s jes’ gone tae get a cup of tea,” Jamie continued. “I believe she’s comin’ back down the road with ye. Mebbe she can take the flowers home.”

“Yes, that’s right.” John responded, while Claire pulled up a chair and sat next to Anna, lifting her arm and forensically examining the plaster. “Anna’s making such good progress, Mary feels confident to actually go home for a bit.”

“She needs… sleep... and rest.” Anna whispered.

“I agree. Mrs. Crook has been baking like a maniac ready for her arrival back home. And she’s not forgotten you either, Anna.” Claire dived into her bag and brought out several large Tupperware boxes. “Chocolate brownies and chocolate chip shortbread. I’m sure if you don’t want them, the nurses and doctors will be keen to take them off your hands. Especially the night shift, they’re always desperate for sweet treats to keep them going.”

“Ah, I’d better be heading meself. I jes’ dropped in on ma way tae visit with Murtagh and Jocasta. Look after yerself, Anna. Good tae see ye lookin’ so bright. Quite like yer old self. And sorry about the flowers. I’ll make sure tae give ye some when ye come home.” Jamie bent down and kissed Anna’s cheek.

Claire busied herself rearranging the items on the bedside table.

“Claire, John. Bye fer now. John, I’ll be in touch about goin’ fer that drink.”

**********

Claire let Mary sit in the front seat of John’s Mini on the way back to Glasgow. Rearranging her legs to fit somehow in the small space available, she closed her eyes and let the conversation drift over her.

“Anna is doing remarkably well,” John remarked.

“I know.” Mary sounded tired but elated. “Mummy and Daddy felt confident enough to go home for a couple of days. Doctors are all so pleased with her progress. We’ll all be back to see her moved into the rehab ward. Then that’s one step closer to her coming home.”

“It was nice of Jamie to come to see Anna,” Mary added, looking at the large bunch of flowers in her lap.

“He feels in some way responsible, you know, for the accident.” John kept his eyes on the road. “He thinks he should have gone down the stairs in front, made her hold onto him. He was upset when I spoke to him the next day… quite agitated.”

Claire tried to keep her breathing steady as she felt her stomach lurch at John’s statement. So, added to Jamie’s feelings of responsibility for the accident, there would also be his guilt at their night together, no doubt viewed by Jamie as a betrayal of Anna. Little wonder he sounded agitated to John.

Unbidden, the memories of that night crowded Claire’s mind… their bodies instinctively seeking comfort together, rekindling long remembered sensations and emotions...

“You have to move forward… whatever it is, you need to let go.” Claire remembered Frank’s parting words and realised he was right. She knew she had to move forward. She realised that would never happen here in Glasgow. Jamie would be there, maybe just around this corner, perhaps sitting in that coffee shop, always on the periphery of her mind. While there was a chance she could meet him, talk to him, reach out and touch him, she would never be able to let go. And if… when… she saw him in a relationship, she knew that would be more than she could bear.

Over the years, Claire had been approached by other hospitals, keen to appoint a surgeon of her calibre. She had a network of contacts forged through medical conferences and online professional discussions. There would be opportunities for her in other cities, perhaps in England or perhaps, ironically, it would be her turn to move abroad. She had to take action and make that break.

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

Claire lightly knocked on the door to Mrs. Fitz’s office. When she heard no answer, she opened the door and stepped inside. Mrs. Fitz was clearly in work, her coat was neatly hanging behind the door, her shopping bag lined up next to her desk. She knew she should have called first, rather than just dropping by unannounced, but she really wanted to talk to Mrs. Fitz and discuss the possibility of moving away.

Claire turned around and started to leave when she heard a noise from her Uncle’s office next door.

“Mrs. Fitz… Uncle… hello?”

She moved to the door connecting the two offices and paused, waiting for a response. The office was silent.

Claire pushed the door open and looked into Lamb’s office.

A young woman was standing next to her uncle’s desk, a small clay pot in her hands. She placed the pot on the pile of papers next to her and smiled at Claire.

“Hi, I’m Malva. Professor Beauchamp’s grad student.”

“Hello, Malva. I’m Professor Beauchamp’s niece, Claire.”

Malva smiled. “Oh, I’ve heard a lot about you. Your uncle is verra proud of you.”

Claire returned the smile politely and looked around, a little bit surprised that Malva was here in Lamb’s office on her own. “Is Mrs. Fitz here, or my uncle?”

“No, I think Mrs. Fitz has gone over to the Finance department and the prof is in the library… er... I’m...er... here tae find a chapter of ma dissertation. He’s been… er… proofreading it fer me, red pen, that kind of thing. I thought he’d left it on his desk, but… er... I canna seem to find it. Ah, well, never mind, I’ll have tae wait ‘til I see him later.”

Malva started to walk towards Claire, still in the doorway, encouraging Claire to turn and leave. Claire made to step back into Mrs. Fitz’s office, but hesitated. Something in Malva’s manner did not seem quite right… the reason for her being there was a bit flimsy… and she was a little too keen to shepherd Claire out of the way. Malva’s eyes flicked instinctively to the corner of the office, hidden from Claire’s view by the door.

Claire caught the glance and stepped fully into Lamb’s office, shutting the door behind her. As she looked around the room, Malva took advantage and slipped out through the same door. The door behind which someone had been standing, hiding. Someone who Claire recognised instantly… Frank.

“Claire,” he began warmly. “How nice to see you, and what a surprise you showing up now.”

“Why a surprise? He’s my uncle. I do like to visit him, you know. What are you doing here?”

“Well, I just came over from my office to see him too, but his grad student… Mar… Mel…”

“Malva.”

“Yes, right, good, she told me that he was not here. I was just about to go, when you arrived and… er… I got caught behind the door.”

“So you weren’t hiding, then?”

“Hiding? No… really… why would I do that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you didn’t want to see me, after how we left things.”

Was it Claire’s imagination, or did a small sigh of relief escape Frank’s lips? She moved over to the large, battered desk in the middle of the room and leant against it. Her fingers traced over the familiar artefacts sitting on the desk, accumulated over years of travel - the blue evil eye amulet, the copper coffee beaker, the intricately carved wooden box. She paused and looked at the box, where Lamb kept the keys to his filing cabinets and cupboards. It was empty.

Claire looked across at Frank, noticing, for the first time, the document wallet and notebook clutched to his side.

“Frank, what are you really doing here?”

“I borrowed some articles from your uncle… er… I was just returning them.” He lifted the document wallet slightly.

Claire held out her hand. “Well, I can give them back to him… you could have left them with Mrs. Fitz, or Malva. You didn’t have to come into his office.”

Frank hesitated. “That’s ok. I can come back when he’s around.”

“What’s the problem, Frank? Don’t you trust me to give them to him?”

An idea started to form in her head. “Uncle Lamb didn’t lend you anything, did he?”

Frank gave no reply.

“You were here uninvited, going through his stuff. Years and years of research material.”

“No, I…”

“Your book… you’ve never done any field work. You told me so yourself. Are you thinking you can use someone else’s hard work and dedication? Pass it off as your own? Plagiarise?”

“I would never… please...”

“And Malva agreed to help you. What for? Co-credit on the book?”

Claire’s stomach lurched unpleasantly as another thought crept into her mind. “Did you know who I was at that party? You said you recognised me. Is that why you went out with me?”

“Claire, please believe me… I did recognise you, but that’s not why I came to talk to you…” Frank held his hands out to Claire. “I wanted to, still want to, go out with you.”

“All that interest in my growing up with Lamb, places I’d visited with him… was that all for your book?” Claire kept her voice low, controlled. Her anger at being used was there, just below the surface but kept in check. “Tell me the truth, Frank. I want honesty.”

“No, Claire, I wanted to learn about you. You’re a fascinating woman. I thought we could have had something special. Still think that, too.” Frank took a step closer to Claire.

“So you weren’t going to use any of what I told you in your book?”

Frank hesitated for a second before responding. “No, it was just about you.”

“Why do I not believe you, Frank? You wanted to get to Lamb’s research through me, and when that didn’t happen you started working with Malva. I’m sure she was keen to be involved with a potential author. May be even television? Is that what you promised her?”

“I…”

“Spare me any excuses. I really can’t be bothered listening to you any more.”

Claire moved to the door and held her hand out. “Document wallet and notebook, please.”

With some reluctance, he deposited them in her hand. “The sad thing is, Frank, if you’d have gone directly to my uncle, I’m sure he would have listened, offered to help you. Instead you sneak about in an underhanded way. Don’t worry, I’ll let him know exactly what’s gone on, as well as Malva’s role in this.”

Claire’s stood and waited as Frank stepped out of the office. “Goodbye Frank”.

#outlander fanfic #outlander fan fiction #Letting Go #chapter 12 #Jamie Fraser #Claire Beauchamp

113 notes · View notes

cupidmarwani-archive · 5 years

Text

Afterward (1/13)

Summary: Haunted by the sound of what she assumes to be her miscarried child’s cries, April reaches out to Sarah Reese, known for helping spirits move on and for aiding those who are being haunted. While in Chicago, however, Sarah finds out there are much more sinister things than the ghost of an unborn child lurking at Chicago Med. [Updates Mondays]

Warnings: blood, past miscarriage, death, violence

Pairings: Rexton, Background Rhodestead

Chicago, Illinois: The Sexton Baby2

14 January 2019 | 15:45 Local Time

I arrived at Gaffney about fifteen minutes ago, and for now, I’m just watching. I come to hospitals a lot, but never like this. Superstitious doctors, and occasionally nurses, ask me to come take a look. I’ve been to Gaffney before because of a “cursed room” that no one would use. But this is different. An emergency nurse, April Sexton, called me, but not the way I’m usually brought to hospitals. She called me for personal gain, not for the patients.

She’s a good nurse with a soft golden aura. She’s focused, and kind, and cares about the patients more than her own pride, unlike one of the doctors. I can’t see his name from here1, but he is very argumentative with the other staff, jumpy, and quick to raise his voice. He has the strongest and darkest energy about him. He’s a man in grief. I hope to be able to help him while I’m here, but there’s no guarantee he could even tell me who he lost.

1[Addendum 14 January 2019 | 16:03 Local Time]

I later identified this doctor to be Dr. William Halstead.

2[Addendum 15 January 2019 | 21:50 Local Time]

This case is not confined to April’s child. While I’m in Chicago, I am also investigating/treating William Halstead and Connor Rhodes, particularly Dr. Rhodes, as I believe him to be haunting Dr. Halstead.

“Can I help you, miss? Are you sick?”

Sarah closes her notebook and looks up at the woman in front of her. Short black hair curls around her face, frames her kind smile, but she’s sad. She’s so sad, even if she hides it behind her bright eyes and the oversized vest on her body reading “hospital volunteer.”

“I need to talk to April Sexton, please.”

“Uh, yeah… I’ll go get her for you. You are…?”

“A friend.”

The woman nods and disappears, but not for long. It takes all of thirty seconds for her to come back trailed by April, who pats the woman on the back and thanks her by name. Emily. It’s a pretty name. If she remembers correctly, it’s a name meaning eagerness, initiative. Something about Emily is worth investigating, but that’s not why she’s here.

“I’m April, what can I help you with?”

“You called me, about three weeks ago-” Sarah pauses to dig around in her jacket for her phone. That’s where she keeps her appointment lists, things like that. Not her case notes- electronics don’t keep the same way handwriting does when it comes to paranormal experiences. She scrolls through her screen twice before she finds the date of April’s call. “Four. My bad. You called me four weeks ago for closure about your baby. I didn’t find out, is the uh- is the father of your baby around? Or the mother? Or if it’s just you, I get that too, but if there’s anyone I’m missing-”

“No, it’s just me. Let’s go somewhere more private.”

April begins to lead her out of the waiting room, allowing Sarah a chance to look around the emergency department. She would have loved to have been a doctor, if she never fell down this path. At seventeen, she had been looking for medical schools to apply to. Now she’s here, looking around, and she knows she made the right call when she stopped searching. This is a place full of pain, and not much hope or love to balance it out.

Her eyes catch on the ginger doctor, though. He’s standing in the hallway, looking at a chart but not really seeing it, and for a moment, Sarah sees someone behind him. Shorter, with dark hair and blood splatter on his face. But then the other man is gone, and she knows that’s who he’s mourning.

“Miss Sexton, who’s that?” she asks, pointing to the doctor.

“You can call me April. And that’s uh, that’s Will.”

Sarah hums and keeps following April all the way to the elevator. It seems they’ll likely be going to another department for this- maybe wherever April lost her baby. That would be OBGYN, if Sarah remembers from the other grieving mothers she’s helped. The babies are always the worst, especially the newborns who never got to come home.

The two of them get their own elevator the whole way up, and in the crisp artificial light, Sarah studies April’s face. Light like this is so rarely flattering, but it shines beautifully off April. Reflects on her cheekbones, sinks into her hair, draws attention to the most beautiful eyes Sarah has ever seen. And her lips seem so soft in this light. Sarah’s mind conjures the sensation of those lips on her own, of cupping April’s face and feeling the angle of those cheekbones dig into the pads of her thumbs.

“Hey.”

The elevator is open, with April standing outside and holding an arm out across the doors to keep them open. She didn’t hear the ding that signalled arrival. Sarah steps out of the elevator, and immediately, she hears it. The crying. Not the way normal babies, living babies, cry, but the way specters do when no one comforts them, because most people don’t even know they’re there. It’s so loud. Sarah almost has to cover her ears, but she forces herself not to. It’s unprofessional.

“You can hear it, can’t you?” April asks. “I can see it on your face.”

Sarah tilts her head a little from side to side, a shrug but not quite. “I hear a lot of things. But the crying? Yeah, I hear them all crying.”

“Them? I only hear one.”

It must be April’s baby, of course it would be the one to latch onto her and she’d be able to hear them even though most people, they don’t hear the spirits unless they’re powerful. But this isn’t an exorcism or a cry for help, but just someone who wants to help their baby move on to whatever comes next. The other plane where most go, but plenty can’t reach on their own.

“Just around here?”

“No. It uh…” April clears her throat. “It follows me. In the ED, and at home sometimes. I can’t sleep real well a lot of the time.”

They don’t usually follow. But sometimes, spirits- especially the babies- do that. They’re lonely, they’re sad, they’re scared. Sarah nods and follows for now, trying to avoid the way the crying gets louder and louder, or at least tune it out enough to focus on figuring out why April’s being followed, and how to set the baby free.

“If it’s okay, I’d uh, I’d really like to come home with you tonight. Not in like a- not in a like, flirty way, I mean. Um. I just want to get a feeling for uh, for the haunting, you know. See what I can do to help you. If that’s alright with you. I just- I just wanna help, you know.”

Her cheeks are burning. She’s supposed to be better about talking now, especially after all the time she spent trying to correct her anxious stuttering and mumbling. Sarah tries to focus on anything other than April’s face now, even the crying.

But then April smiles at her, and it’s like putting the stars in the sky, and for a moment the hospital lights seem to be a halo around her head. She reminds Sarah of modern paintings of Mother Mary. Although she isn’t religious herself, she has to do a lot of research because sometimes the people who need her can’t handle any more pain than they already have. They cling to ideas like ghosts are repelled by crucifixes, or that an ibbur must be helped so it can move on, or any number of beliefs fueled by religion. It’s not her place to tell them what’s right, what’s a mistake. And in all reality, she doesn’t know for certain that any of them are wrong in the first place. The point stands either way that she’s put a lot of time and effort into understanding what people believe and knowing how to tell them what they need to hear.

“Of course,” April says, still smiling. She doesn’t seem the type to smile so much. “My shift doesn’t end until ten, though. I can give you my house key and address, though, if you’d like?”

Sarah shakes her head. “No, I need you there, since you’re what the baby is channeling through. I don’t mind waiting. You have my number if you get off early, and I’m sure there’s good I can do in this hospital.”

#rexton #rhodestead #sarah reese #april sexton #connor rhodes #will halstead #afterwardfic #mine #fic

9 notes · View notes

deadmomjokes · 6 years

Note

(Normal? 1/2) I just went to a psychiatrist for the first time today. I got a recommendation from a therapist I used to see for a handful of appointments. I tried to be open minded, but I think they were bad at their job? They didn't tell me what the diagnosis was for sure (I could only assume depression/anxiety), and when I brought up concerns with general side effects, they brushed it off saying all things have side effects listed. They didn't even ask for all my symptoms?

(Normal? 2/2) I brought a whole notebook of information per recommendation of my past therapist, but then the psychiatrist never even asked about my family health history or triggers or coping mechanisms Ive tried. I don’t know, I felt like I was just treated like a body and had a set routine she was going through rather than actually hearing me. Am I just being overly anxious about this? Was this normal? Do they not need to know all my symptoms if I think I know what I got???

(Normal, Bonus) I don’t know, sorry for bothering you about this, I’m just super worried and don’t know anyone I can ask if this is normal for these kinds of appointments/treatments. Thank you so much for your time, even if you don’t answer. Have a lovely day

You’re definitely not bothering me at all! This stuff is hard enough to navigate without having a rotten experience like you did. And I do think your experience was terrible. You’re not just being overly anxious, you’re well within your right be frustrated and confused by your experience, and I would certainly find it anxiety provoking, myself!

A psychiatrist should absolutely be interested in both your symptoms and how they are affecting your day-to-day, as well as family history. As my husband explains it, a psychiatrist is primarily a doctor that also knows some psychology. If you went to a doctor experiencing a bunch of symptoms, and with a family history of certain conditions, and they just kind of brushed them aside and sent you straight to pills, it would be bad form. This is no different.

While it’s true that all medications have side effects, even stuff like ibuprofen, a doctor should never dismiss or handwave your concerns, particularly when it’s a psychiatric medication, where the side effects can be more serious and bothersome. She should have spent time talking to you, too, about what her thoughts were and WHY she was prescribing you a medicine in the first place. The fact that you walked out of there with pills and no clearly stated differential diagnosis is concerning to me. Not to say that the medication won’t help, but she should have taken time to talk to you about her thoughts and what the medicine is generally used for. It’s possible that she wasn’t able to make a definitive diagnosis after one appointment, or that she assumed your therapist had more or less diagnosed you already and she was going based on that, but she should have explained it a whole lot better.

It’s possible that if the therapist referred you, they could have sent over their case notes and that’s what the psychiatrist was going off of. She could have seen things like your symptoms and history in the notes, but since the therapist told you to bring a list to your appointment, and you said the therapist was a past therapist, I find that slightly less likely.

Depending on what the medicine is, I’d say it’s almost certain to be for anxiety/depression. Medicines like SSRIs and SNRIs, which are used for anxiety/depression/ptsd are generally considered safe, and so most doctors are comfortable writing prescriptions for those even after just one appointment. I know you’ve probably been doing a ton of research on it already, but since the psych didn’t take the time to talk to you about these meds, I’ll give you a quick (non-professional) rundown. (Handy graphic I did here!)

SSRI stands for Selective Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitor. Basically, when anxious/depressed, your brain doesn’t get enough of the serotonin it needs from what you’re producing naturally. Serotonin naturally gets reabsorbed after a certain amount of time anyway, meaning the places its supposed to go are short because the supply is low to begin with, and then your brain keeps sucking it back up before it can get where it needs to go in the quantities it needs to be in. The medicine stops much of the serotonin from being reabsorbed so more of it floats around free and ready for your brain to actually use. It won’t naturally increase the amount you make, but it does increase the amount that’s available, and sometimes having a good, steady, sufficient supply will allow your brain to get back to normal levels of production, because hey, everything’s working great now and we don’t have a nasty feedback loop! That’s why some people can go off their meds after a while and be fine; their brain has fixed the deficit enough to fix the production problem. (If you’re like me, your brain has something wrong with it where it has never produced enough and probably will never until they make a bunch of medical advancements.) SNRIs do the same thing but with both Serotonin and Norepinephrine (Serotonin-Norepinephrine Reuptake Inhibitors).

Generally speaking, the first try for anxiety and depression is an SSRI. If, however, you only have anxiety and not depression, or depression which stems from the constant anxiety, they may try an SNRI, which is specifically for anxiety and things like chronic pain. That’s not to say that SNRIs aren’t helpful for depression, because they are (that serotonin again), but it’s generally for a primary anxiety or pain concern. SNRIs can also sometimes be helpful for people with ADHD, but it’s generally not a first try or used alone.

Some common SSRIs that they start people on are Lexapro, Zoloft, Prozac, and Celexa. they have fewer side effects than most, or are most easily tolerated. Generally it’s things like temporary headache and fatigue (which can be reduced by taking the medicine at night). Common SNRIs are Cymbalta, Pristiq, and Effexor. They tend to have more side effects or more annoying side effects, like nausea, dizziness, and sweating.

Ultimately, only you can decide whether you’re comfortable enough with that doctor’s analysis of the situation in order to start the medication that she prescribed, but it is well within your rights both to go ahead and see, and to find a second opinion. Most insurance allows for a second opinion if you schedule the appointment as such, or you could contact your insurance to find out how they’d handle a second psych appointment with someone other than the first doctor.

Your therapist wouldn’t have agreed to refer you to a psychiatrist if they didn’t think medication might be in your best interest, so the question here may be whether you’re comfortable enough with the analysis of your problems to start this medicine. Unfortunately, side effects with psychiatric medication are relatively common, but not all of them last the whole time you’re taking it or are that serious. Sometimes they can also be predicted by your past health history; for instance, if you’ve ever experienced migraines, you’re more likely to get headaches as a side effect when starting or upping dose on a medication.

I’m sorry you’re in such a sticky and anxiety-provoking situation. That’s a lousy place to be in, especially when you’re already having a rough time. Feel free to ask any more questions you like, to vent, to ask my opinion on the specific medicine (I’ve been on a lot of them, because my brain is garbage and likes to build resistances), or to keep me updated on what you decide to do. Also, I apologize if I’ve misread the situation/your asks, or if my response was totally off the mark for what you were hoping. I’m gonna blame that on baby brain and also switching dosage of my own medicine. (I’m starting the Weird Zone today, so hopefully this response has been coherent cuz I’m not in any position to tell that for myself.)

#asks #anon #mental health #anxiety #medication

13 notes · View notes

realityhelixcreates · 5 years

Text

Lasabrjotr Chapter 14: Loose Ends

Chapters: 14/? Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Teen And Up Warnings: Nothing, I Think Relationships: Loki x Reader (But not yet) Characters: Loki (Marvel), Thor (Marvel), OFC, Sofie, Fritjof, Andsvarr Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending, Mystery Arson, Pushy Senile Professors, Loki Forgot The Rules Summary: The Horse Returns!

A tent in the encampment had burned down in the night. No body was found, so it was hoped no one was inside at the time, but every single thing within had been reduced fully to ash, or little lumps of melted metal and glass.

For as intensely and completely as the tent had burned, the fire hadn’t spread at all. It was a small miracle within the tragedy. The plot was cleaned up, and a newcomer set up their tent in its place.

No one came forward as the owner of the tent.

Sofie made sure to greet the new campers, offer them assistance and guidance. She also made sure to quietly confront Fritjof on the way back.

“I know nothing more than anyone else.” He insisted. “Some people don’t know how to fireproof their tents. It happens. With all the fires around here, it should have happened sooner.”

“Doesn’t anyone know who that tent belonged to? They might have tried to hurt _____. I know you don’t like her, but-“

“I no longer have anything against her. She is chosen. So be it. She spoke the truth before. So be it.” That last was delivered bitterly. Most of Fritjofs friends had left the camp after Heimdall and Loki’s brief appearance a month ago. Gone home to do some soul searching or find something else that catered to their exclusionary beliefs. The few that remained from ‘that side’ of the camp had mostly withdrawn to figure themselves out. For once, they were quiet.

But Fritjof’s tent was near to the one that had burned, and it was hard to believe that he didn’t know who it belonged to, when he made a habit of interrogating everyone who came to the camp about their faith.

“They might have left with the others.” He suggested. “Some proved faithless, and left everything behind.”

“But not you.”

He shrugged. “I was tested. But the gods are here. It doesn’t matter anymore what shape they have taken this time. They are real, and they are here once more. The wisdom of our ancestors will return to us. That’s the important part. Isn’t it?”

Sofie nodded. “I think so too. Here, come help me distribute apples to the newcomers. They’ll want to know what we have seen.”

*****

“You’ve found the animal? Where?” Loki asked the stablemistress.

“Wandering the fens. Some children found her while they were out berrying. She’s lucky to be in one piece, but she seems to be fine. Full of berries, most likely.”

You would want to know that the horse had been found, and in good health as well.

“Was anything else found?”

“No, I’m afraid not, your highness. She was still wearing the same tack she left with, but nothing more than that.”

“Oh well. At least we have her back.”

Two probable dead ends. At least there had been no loss. The horse had returned, and the burned tent had caused no harm. He would be venturing out later with a handful of Einherjar to look over the things that had been found at the crime scene.

Your injury was healing significantly faster than usual for a human, due partly to the advancement of their medical facilities, and due partly, he was almost certain, to his touch. The more he had carefully stroked your back, the more the pain seemed to recede, the more you had curled up on yourself-probably in relief.

He had bid you to rest, and given Ansdvarr a few friends to help watch over you, making sure there was food for you when you woke. You seemed so subdued. It must be the amount of energy it was taking to heal yourself. He waited until you were asleep to take his leave. He just wanted to be sure.

He met his small entourage just outside the city, and they all traced their way across the idyllic landscape, to the little copse of trees. The remains of his ill-fated picnic were still strewn about the area, though some small animal or another had made off with the food.

Loki instructed one of the Einherjar to gather things up, then he followed the sergeant in charge of investigating the area to what she had found.

“There are two areas of interest, your highness. This is the first.” It was little more than a blanket draped over a low branch to create a simple shelter. A small bag full of food wrappers and an empty canteen were the only other items. They didn’t look Asgardian in origin.

“These are all Midgardian in make.” The sergeant confirmed. “It seems some mortal was making camp here, but from the debris blown into the tent, I’d say they haven’t been here for a few days. At least as long as it’s been since you brought your woman out here.”

“She’s not my woman.” Loki said quickly. You would probably take offence at that. “She is a guest. We are watching over her due to a magical anomaly. You were shown her hand with everybody else.”

“Ah. As you say, your highness. Forgive my assumption. But this is not the only thing out here. This way.”

She led him all the way to the other end of the patch of trees, to another tent. This one was more spacious, and far from being a hasty shelter, was properly set up and staked down. It was well camouflaged, and inside were a variety of things.

More interestingly, there appeared to be a mix of Asgardian and Midgardian items. The tent was clearly Asgardian, but the blankets and pillows were from Earth. It all came together to form a sordid picture.

“Hm.” Loki said. This probably should have been expected.

“Indeed.” The sergeant agreed. “It appears to me that this is evidence of one of our people and one of theirs…cohabiting. At least occasionally.”

“It’s not illegal…”Loki said.

“I wonder if perhaps it should be.” The sergeant mused. “Mortals are…well, they are mortal. They are fragile and short-lived. All such unions are doomed to a sad end.”

“All things die.” Loki said simply.

“Of course, your highness. But we don’t even allow them within the city. Even this relationship is kept secret, hidden away from the eyes of others. What happens when it eventually bears fruit? What happens to those children? Where do they live? Do we keep them away from one of their parents? Sire, I don’t think we’re ready for this.”

“Calm yourself sergeant.” Loki said. “We have been ready for this since my brother first set foot on this planet. Beyond that, the king and I, as well as the entire council, have been planning and debating for this very eventuality. And it is inevitable. They are too much like us for these unions not to develop.”

“Have you grown fond of them, your highness?”

Loki gave her a long, flat stare.

“Er, forgive me.” She said, fidgeting. “That is not my place.”

“My feelings on the matter are meaningless in comparison to what is best for the people. If there is nothing else here…?”

“Not that we have found.”

“I say we leave everything where we have found it. Set someone to watch this area and report any activity. Everything has been recorded? Good. I want a copy delivered to me, and I wish to be notified first with any new information.”

Returning to his horse, he noticed that the dishes had been placed back in the basket, his discarded cloak and blanket folded neatly, and secured to his saddle. He could see your blood on the blanket. It made him want to tear it. Even if the stain could be cleaned, he probably wouldn’t ever use it again, nor would he want you to wear his old Sleipnir cloak again, even though he’d had it altered for you. It would be bad luck to let it touch your shoulders once more.

Perhaps he really should teach you what a pauldron was.

*****

“Look, I’m sorry, but he’s not here.” Andsvarr told the old skald instructor. “You’re going to have to wait until he comes back. Did you have an appointment?”

“Yes.” The old teacher huffed. “Some youngster tried to tell me it’d been cancelled for some trivial investigation, but I’ve had this planned for months, and my whole class has been waiting as well.” He gestured at the small gathering of people behind him, each holding a notebook and an instrument.

“Oh. But he’s still not here. There’s nothing I can do about that.”

“You could let us meet with the Midgardian woman. She’s part of the lesson plan. My students need to become familiar with mortals; their flaws and virtues, so that they might properly write them into verse.”

“We definitely cannot do that, milord.” The supplementary guard interjected. “We have strict orders to keep anyone from seeing her. She is convalescing.”

“Wait.” Andsvarr said. “If you’ve been planning this for months, how can _____ be a part of the lesson plan? She’s only been here for one month and a little more.”

The instructor glared at him, crossing his arms. “Are you sassing me, young man?”

“No sir. Only doing my job.”

“Well so am I. And if you don’t let us in, I’m going to take my complaints straight to-“

“To me, Beli?” Loki said. “I am right here. What have you to say to me?”

“Ah, your highness! Just who I wanted to see! We had an appointment.”

“Which was regrettably cancelled due to an unfortunate assault against a guest of the Crown.”

“-And I have brought my class all the way here to meet with your mortal visitor.”

“Who is resting after her injury.”

“And these smart fellows won’t let us pass!”

“On my orders.”

“And so I was just telling them-what?”

“My specific orders, Beli. No one other than myself or the king can come in here. Your appointment was cancelled. That means it cannot happen today. Because someone tried to kill our only human. And now she must stay in bed and rest.”

Poor old Beli. He’d been one of Loki’s teachers, for music and sagas. He’d been Thor’s teacher, and Heimdall’s and Frigga’s. He seemed like he’d been around since the dawn of Asgard, yet he was as inflexible as the golden spires, and seemed unable to fathom that plans could change.

The door behind them all opened, and you peeked out.

“Aha!” Beli said. “Behold class: a human!”

You shrank back.

“No, no, come out young woman. It is a woman, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Loki said through gritted teeth. “I believe I have indicated that several times.”

You slipped into the hallway, obviously intrigued by what was going on, looking around at all the instruments.

“So loud out here.” You whispered. “Is something wrong?”

“She looks sick.” One of the students said.

“Well, what did you expect? She got stabbed.” Said another.

“It’s just a stab.”

“Not for a mortal, it isn’t!”

“Nothing’s wrong.” Loki said. “Go ahead and go back inside. I’m sending them along now.”

“Now, just a moment!” Beli said. “Since you’re both out here right now, why don’t we-“

You took that moment to collapse. A gasp rose from the gathered students, which quickly became clapping as Loki easily caught you.

“Beli. Esteemed teacher. Let us compromise. Your appointment is…postponed. Good afternoon.”

Loki scooped you effortlessly into his arms. You were so light. You would always seem light, no matter how much you did or didn’t weigh. He swept into his rooms, kicking the door closed behind him, leaving poor Andsvarr and his friend to take care of the musician class.

He laid you down on your sparse little bed, noticing with alarm the coldness of your skin. This wasn’t just because of your injury, or the energy it was taking to accelerate the healing.

“I was gone too long, wasn’t I?” He said mournfully, gathering you up into a sitting position next to him. He’d been miles away from you, for almost the whole day. He should have known better than to do that! You were injured; the detrimental effects of the link between you clearly reacted harshly and more swiftly when you weren’t healthy in the first place.

“Gone too far away, and for too long. Oh, you poor thing.” He wrapped one arm around you to hold you up, tenderly stroking your back. Had it been frightening, feeling the incapacitating sickness creep up on you again? He’d barely noticed it.

You shuddered in his arms, so he wrapped the blankets around your shoulders.

“Well, we’ve found out some possibly interesting things, but nothing solid, I’m afraid. We will find who did this, however. I promise you justice.”

You shivered again, but remained quiet. Loki wasn’t even sure you had heard him. He laid you back down, tucking you in and waiting until your breathing became slow and even before leaving your room.

These simple little acts of care were reassuring to him. He had cared for an entire kingdom for several years, he could do the same for one mortal woman. He could do this.

#loki x reader #marvel fanfiction #loki (marvel)

12 notes · View notes

thelifeofasloth · 7 years

Text

Well Aren’t You Delightful ~ Billy Hargrove

Well this is my first stranger things imagine and I am so excited and nervous to venture into this side. I love stranger things and also love Dacre Montgomery as well as his character. I do not believe in what he does though but he touches a topic I believe should be brought up. Anyway, this is one part if you want another let me know and I will happily continue. I also do Harry Styles and Shawn Mendes Imagines so if you like them then go ahead and read my others. I may do more imagines with other Stranger Thing characters if you want? I may continue to expand the imagines when I watch new shows I am not sure.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN (Dacre Montgomery, Billy Hargrove, Harry Styles, Shawn Mendes, any other stranger things character that is over 16)

Want to see more of my work? MASTERLIST

Warnings: None in this part

When Billy came to your school you were the only girl in your class which didn’t drop your pants as soon as he held a stare for longer than a few seconds. Obviously, this intrigued Billy. It was very self-explanatory that every girl in Hawkins was pinning for him, and it surprised you that his good looks hadn’t intrigued you either.

It wasn’t that you didn’t find him attractive because even a blind man could see that he was gorgeous. It was the fact he thought he could get anyone, and well you didn’t blame the boy because apart from you and the school nun he wasn’t short of a pit stop. He didn’t speak to you for the first few months of him being in Hawkins. This being because he was too busy getting through all the girls in the year for him to realise that there was one that he hadn’t charmed yet. But, you got ‘blessed’ with his contact on Tuesday morning at the beginning of the spring term.

You had been in the same History class as Billy, that was when he decided to turn up. He usually situated himself behind you. This then meaning that the whole back rows were filled with girls that Billy had ticket off his never-ending list of girls he’s shagged. This didn’t bother you much, mainly because that meant you were able to focus and not have people turn around and stare just because his arm twitched. You walked into class A202 with Mr Mackle, his face looking constantly tiered and wrinkles were permanently carved into his forehead. His glasses never leaving the bridge of his nose as he gave out stern looks as though he regretted accepting this job years ago. But it wasn’t the fact that your teacher was handing out test papers that got you annoyed, it was when you looked at your unassigned assigned seat it was already taken. By none other than Billy Hargrove. You wouldn’t have been bothered if there was a seat on the same row, but obviously because it was him his flock of bitches took up the rows. Only leaving you with one chair at the back, which didn’t work for you. Mainly because you were short sighted and didn’t want the embarrassment of wearing your glasses.

You didn’t hesitate to walk up to Billy, a smug smile on his face as he looked up at you. “Got a problem Doll?” Billy chirped, instantly giving you a nickname you were sure one of his pack had already owned after hearing a scoff somewhere to your right.

“It looks like you are in the wrong seat Hargrove. Or do you have that little brain cells to realise this is my seat?” It was too early for his shit, all you really wanted to do was sit down and listen to your class waiting for the day to end.

“I wasn’t tolled we had our own seats. But, I am comfy now so why don’t you get your cute little ass to the back and take the attitude with you also” he smiled up at you while flinging his arm towards the empty seats towards the back. Some of the girls giggled at his joke, this obviously heightening his ego if that was even possible.

“Listen to me very closely Hargrove. I would go and move your pack of sluts to the back before I make your life more shit than it already seems to be. I am not your lap dog bitch, so why don’t you and your shit hair cut move to the back.” Billy laughed lightly at this. Your eyes glancing up as soon as Mr Mackle turned around “Have you both finished your conversation, Y/N could you take a seat? Unless you want to take this outside and come back after school?” You scoffed, before shoving your bag into Billy’s shoulder and walking to the back corner. You didn’t even have to look at Billy already knowing he was smiling triumphantly. Part of you wanted to walk up to him and slap that smile right off his face. But, alas you needed to stay calm. This boy wanted this rise out of you, he wanted the attention you hadn’t given him. The lesson seemed to last longer than the hour it really was. Billy kept glancing back, but you didn’t acknowledge him you continued to look forward at the work that was on the board and coping down notes.

Your class was dismissed which you were grateful for, placing your notebook in your bag before looking up at what was coursing the shadow over your small form. You already partly knew who it was, your eyes rolled back for the several times in just this lesson. “You dropped these” Billy stated handing you your Chevrolet bel air car keys. Your dad had handed it down to you as he could no longer drive due to his illness and as you were his carer ever since your Mom left you both you needed ways to get around for his medication and appointments. You snatched them out his hand before giving him a slight nod slinging your bag over your shoulder. Anyone else you would have said thank you, but he didn’t deserve that kind of respect. “You know a thank you would have been nice, I could have easily taken that car I mean it is an antique even now” You walked backwards glancing at his face with a blank expression. “I didn’t learn much manners when I was younger, which reminds me of someone actually. Hm, I wonder who that is?” you stopped in your tracks placing your finger under your chin tapping it absentmindedly. “Ha Ha very funny Y/L/N. How about for the payment you show me your beast then?” He was in front of you now staring down at you while he leaned on the side of the lockers. “I am unable too sorry. She doesn’t like dickheads, much like her Mom” you walked away before he could respond not really wanting to hear anything else that left his lips. The rest of the day was the same as the previous lesson, long and pointless. Every lesson starting off with the teacher stating that exams were only a few months away and that revision was needed if you had not already started. You had no respect or admiration for the people who left it this late, they were obviously lining themselves for a hard life and you were glad you would be away from these people sooner than you had ever dreamed. When the final bell rang you were the first person to leave class, running towards the front of the school and pushing open the door. You walked down the stairs twisting your keys in your fingers and making your way to the car park. You whistling to ‘like a virgin’ by Madonna. Your head lifting when you reached the entrance to the car park, your heart dropped and your blood beginning to boil at the sight which was in front of you. Your fingers digging into your hand. “You are dead Hargrove” you stated under your breathe before walking up to your car space.

#billy #hargrove #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove #billy hargrove imagine #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things smut #billy x reader #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x you

236 notes · View notes

psychicphilosophies · 7 years

Text

How To Raise Your Vibration

Have you ever had one of those days, when you feel sad, lonely, afraid or even depressed for no apparent reason? If you rhetorically answered yes to that question, you may well be suffering from a low spiritual vibration. Sadly, a lot of people in society today are either spiritually lazy, unconscious or being surrounded by negativity, and this is a shame and it needs to change.

I believe everyone in this world deserves to follow their bliss and live the life of their dreams no matter what age they are whether they’re young or old. Many people are afraid of living a life that is pleasurable to them because they tell themselves that they are unworthy of being happy, to being loved by someone dear to them or even not having the belief that they can manifest their desires, hopes or dreams for the future.

These are false beliefs that are buried deep within our subconscious mind and our inner child, otherwise known as the ego. These beliefs usually stem from our childhood, when we were just making sense of how the world works while by being guided and cared for by our parents who might subconsciously let us down without being aware. This means that they might let a stranger, another family member, acquaintance, spouse, partner or friend be rude or abusive to you as a child and not say anything back to them because of their own fears of confrontation, violence, and expressing their anger inappropriately.

This makes a child feel hurt, unworthy, guilty, ashamed and frightened by the outside world as well as their inner world. Abuse such as neglect, sexual abuse, domestic violence and emotional manipulation are usually the main causes of personality disorders, dysfunctional relationships and marriages and in extreme cases criminal convictions. Take a look at emotional neglect, for example, this type of abuse in childhood could lead to developing codependency behaviours in romantic relationships, which becomes extremely damaging and toxic to both partners. Codependent people are magnets for people who are on the narcissistic spectrum to full blown narcissistic personality disorder. This type of relationship is a classic empath\narcissist toxic and dysfunctional nightmare.

Relationships like these are extremely addictive because the narcissist feels deep down inside that they’re not loved or even felt loved when they were a young child and as an adult, while the codependent partner smothers them with love and appreciation, which in hand makes the narcissist feel special, adored and feel like a king or queen leading to more dysfunctional behaviours within the two partners. Codependency on the other hand, is slightly different. These people crave validation and reassurance from their love interests, friends and family, because of feelings of inadequacy, rejection, fear and a lack of self confidence within themselves.

When a codependent person gets complimented frequently by a potential lover, they start to cling on to them and attach themselves to that particular person, before even getting to know them first causing them to becoming a victim of desperation and then eventually exposing themselves to their biggest fears of rejection and abandonment. The more a person does these behaviours, the more likely the viscous cycle will continue and cause destruction throughout their daily life. This consistently damaging cycle can lead the person into a dark, guilty, fearful and shameful place, which can develop into self-sabotage, self-pity self-mutilation, depression and even thoughts about suicide or attempted suicide.

While anger issues on the other hand, does have similar characteristics to codependency, but not entirely. These types of people seek out validation through vengeance such as someone who has been bullied at school in the past, is now using their anger and frustration as a form of tenacity and determination to become famous or highly successful to prove themselves that they are valued by society. These people male or female can also become passionate activists, politicians and protesters by using their mistreatment by others or in society by trying to bring people together to help make a change for the future so that new generations do not have to suffer like they once did.

The darker sides to anger is that it can and has been done many times throughout human history, is to use violence, weaponry, attempted murder/murder or torture to find justice for their abuse. This leads to criminal convictions and life sentences in prison or the death penalty in some countries around the world. However, this is still rare, but it can happen and possibly has happened many times. Most of the time, criminals are usually psychopaths, sociopaths or have been brought up in toxic environments whether they live in poverty or with a wealthy family. Living at low frequencies like I have explained in this post, do not serve you, the people around you or to the planet. Everyone of us here on Earth, has the right to experience miracles, joy and blessings in our lives.

You deserve to live a life that brings you abundance, prosperity, love and happiness. You are special person that has a beautiful soul and does not deserve to live in pain, suffering and feelings of worthlessness, anger, guilt, regret, narcissism or codependency. Your body is a temple, so show it love, care for it and nurture it everyday. There is only one of you living on this planet, that is how sacred and special you truly are. I will guide you now with these steps into a more fulfilling life.

Step 1: Remove limiting beliefs and let go of past hurts and trauma

You can do this by booking an appointment with a professional therapist who is trained in NLP (Neuro Linguistic Programming) therapy, which is mainly used for people suffering from extreme phobias, anxiety, panic attacks and post-traumatic stress disorder. NLP can also help people who have self limiting beliefs that prevent them from achieving their goals, living a happy life or having successful relationships. Hypnotherapy is also a great option for this as this also works with the subconscious mind, allowing it to let go of the beliefs that doesn’t serve in a persons life while in a deep trance like state or sleep. Hypnotherapy is very good for treating addictions and other problems as well as opening you up to new possibilities that will benefit your mind, body and spirit . There are many guided hypnosis available on YouTube if you want to learn the art of self-hypnosis or if you cannot afford to pay for continuous hypnosis sessions from a professional hypnotherapist, which can be expensive if its in a private practice.

Step 2: Practice Daily Affirmations

You can meditate each morning with daily affirmations, create a vision board in your bedroom on a wall or on your bathroom mirror. You can also write down your favourite affirmations in a notebook and carry it around with you throughout the day or repeat them silently or aloud to yourself. Doing this exercise daily will greatly improve your feelings about yourself, people around you and for the rest of your life. If you’re interested in learning more about affirmations or they work well for you, I highly recommend you reading books by Louise Hay, who sadly passed away recently. She has published numerous books about self-love, healing a broken heart and relieving symptoms of medical conditions using psychotherapy.

Step 3: Forgive those who have hurt you and yourself

Showing compassion for others and most importantly for yourself is very good for your body, mind and spirit and scientific researchers in psychology have proved it has lots of benefits, such as better heart health, stronger immunity, less inflammation, less likely to develop brain diseases and promote longevity in later life. Holding grudges for several years or even decades can increase your risk of premature death by holding on to excess stress and other negative emotions unnecessarily. This does the polar opposite of what forgiveness does and its not a pretty sight. So letting go of regret, guilt, anger and self-sabotage will help you increase your spiritual vibration. Remember that self-forgiveness and acceptance is a lifetime journey not a destination. Writing a letter to someone (not sending it to them, unless you feel that would be a better and more appropriate thing to do) telling them you’re truly sorry for what you did that upset them and indirectly asking for forgiveness. You can also write a letter to yourself apologising for making yourself feel upset. This exercise is called compassionate letter writing, taught by psychologist Professor Paul Gilbert, which is used when we need to understand ourselves or other people in times of intense emotions such as worry, guilt or anger.

Step 4: Show gratitude for life and its blessings

Being thankful, just like compassion offers us the gift of experiencing optimal health and overall happiness. Showing thanks to the little things in your life and to the world around you is one of the most precious things you can do. There are so many people in the Western world who go about their day to day lives not realising how truly lucky they are until one day something is taken way from them all of a sudden, such as losing their sight, hearing or a limb, for example. When you ask people what does gratitude mean to you and they would mostly say to you that it means saying thanks to someone who gave you a present and a card for your birthday or Christmas. This is superficial gratitude and it doesn’t last as long and only gives you temporary happiness and excitement from getting a gift. True gratitude is completely different, this is giving thanks to more meaningful things like being able to see beautiful things that the world has to offer, hearing music that moves you and having the ability to breathe in oxygen without any effort is a gift that nobody is grateful for. Being fully in the present moment and feeling grateful for being alive is the greatest gift of all.

Step 5: Surround yourself with people who give you love, joy and acceptance

Have you ever noticed that when you have been around a group of people who just drain your energy and overall well-being? I can definitely answer ‘yes’ to that question as I have crossed paths with people who are considered as ‘toxic’ and I am sure you have too. Although these people might sound bitter, pessimistic and toxic on the surface, they might actually be the most lovable without you even knowing it. It’s not the person who is toxic, but how they have psychologically processed their difficulties throughout their life and how it changed them into a completely different personality. People like this need more love in their lives, to help them show their pure heart and soul they have buried inside themselves for several years. However, there is a caveat and a catch-22 to this situation, as trying to help these people can be very difficult, confusing and downright hurtful at times, even though you had the best intentions for them.

So finding new people to connect with is a great idea, as it will open you up to new opportunities, friendships and potential relationships that could last for a lifetime. This also means that you shouldn’t avoid or not be friends with someone who might come across as negative towards you, as it will only make them be even more difficult to deal with for the next person. Just be understanding towards them with non-judgement. No one is perfect, at the end of the day and everyone has their insecurities and imperfections. Finding someone who accepts you and sees the beauty in your imperfections is a person you should never let go as they will be your best spiritual teacher you’ll ever know.

Step 6: Eat a nutritious diet and exercise regularly

Eating a nutritious diet and exercising regularly is an absolute necessity if you want to live a more fulfilling life for yourself. Eating overly refined foods, sugary drinks and fast food just deplete our energy making us feel lazy, lethargic and miserable. Feeling like this constantly, encourages us to par take in emotional eating, which in turn becomes addictive behaviour and as a result we pile on the pounds uncontrollably and the cycle begins again. Whereas eating a diet rich in antioxidant foods that are found in nature that have all the nutrients we could possibly need, hence why we feel happier eating healthier foods. Exercising is just as important as being sedentary can also have an impact on your mood as it is scientifically proven to release endorphins ‘the happy hormone’ in the brain. So start eating your fruits and vegetables and get moving!

Step 7: Participate in ancient spiritual practices daily

This could be anything from yoga to tai chi whichever you prefer or enjoy doing in your leisure time. Other examples of spiritual practices include tantra, meditation, shamanism, prayer or any kind of religious practices. These spiritual practices are easily accessible and you can practice anywhere except types of tantra as some of it is based on sacred sexuality, which should only be done in privately at home. These practices raise your kundalini, chi or pranic energy, which basically means raising your vibration and awareness.

Step 8: Get a good night’s sleep

Just like nutrition and getting regular exercise is so important when you want to raise your frequency, getting a good night’s rest is just as important. How many times have you had a bad night’s sleep the night before and woke up angry and upset someone because of a lack of sleep? I have and I’m sure you have too. Lack of sleep can put you at risk of getting potentially life threatening illnesses in later life, as well as weakening you immune system and increasing inflammation. To be the healthiest you can possibly be, try to aim between getting 7-10 hours of sleep per night. If you can make this a habit, you’ll see a vast difference in your mental, physical and spiritual health!

Right that’s it for now, I hope you enjoyed this post, and I look forward to talking and sharing with you again on this journey.

Much love,

Psychic Philosophies

2 notes · View notes

bangtansadnyeondan-blog · 7 years

Text

Roses

chapter one / chapter two / chapter three / chapter four / chapter five / chapter six / chapter seven / chapter eight / chapter nine / chapter ten / chapter eleven/ chapter twelve / chapter thirteen

genre: angstxfluff

pairing: yoongixjungkook

Chapter One

Jungkook sat on his bed patiently waiting for his doctor to come in with his medication. as the lock got turned he looked a new doctor in the eyes.

"You're new," Jungkook said as he looked at the new doctor. He had black hair, pretty brown eyes, and a small face. He was smaller than Jungkook. His white doctor’s jacket didn't suit his face, nor body.

"Hello," Jungkook said respectfully as he stood up to bow to the new doctor.

His eyes widened as he saw his new patient. He was used to their dull faces, not someone with eyes as twinkling as this one. He looked back down at his clipboard as he entered the room, closing the door behind him.

"Jeon Jungkook? I'm your new assigned doctor, Min Yoongi. Let's just go over the usual for now," Yoongi started, gesturing to the weighing scale off to the side. He was instructed to take care of a few patients to start off with and Jeon Jungkook was his last and according to his file, his appointed patient. To know his patient better, he'd need to first know his vital details first and then he'd talk. He had everything on his file yet he understood his patients better when they conversed with him. So he leaned against the wall, gesturing to Jungkook to step up onto the weighing scale. His eyes were still taking in the unkempt look that graced Jungkook, contrasting his bright eyes.

"Of course," Jungkook said as he walked to the weighing scale. He lost a whole kilo last week, which worried the doctors.

"I lost weight again," Jungkook mumbled as he looked at the new doctor. "I promise don't worry, I'm not trying to lose weight," Jungkook said nervously, the last time he lost weight in a small amount of time they gave him a lot to eat and forced him to, but to one point he threw up because he couldn't eat anymore.

Yoongi just nodded, "it's alright, I'm not saying that. It happens," he sat on Jungkook's bed. "It might be unconscious. So tell me about you. I'm new and I could just base my judgment of you based on the file they've given me but I'd rather know you than the facts about Jeon Jungkook."

Jungkook sat down on his bed as he looked to Doctor Min. "Uh-," Jungkook mumbled, not knowing what to say about himself. "I-I'm J-Jungkook, I-I like drawing a-and listening m-music?" He stuttered looking at the doctor. He didn't like talking about himself, to the other doctors he didn't have to. Nobody ever asked him about himself so he didn't bother to tell anyone about himself. How could this doctor at once care about him? Jungkook wasn't good enough for anyone.

Yoongi bit his lip and flipped a new page on his clipboard, clicking his pen open. "Well, Jungkook, how old are you? And... What's the reason you're in here? Or... Are you in here voluntarily?" Yoongi was trying to be diplomatic or at least not trigger Jungkook but he needed to know more than just what was written in his file. He definitely needed more input from Jungkook. "I can't help you Jungkook unless you help me."

"I'm 19," Jungkook mumbled while staring at his feet. "I-I'm h-here because my ex-boyfriend sent me here," He said looking at the doctor. "A-after he b-broke up with m-me, I t-t-thought I wasn't good e-enough, n-no, I-I k-knew, and I-I a-am b-being a b-bacteria i-in t-this w-world," Jungkook was close to crying, but at the same time, it felt somewhat good to tell his story. He sniffed as he looked at Yoongi. "I-I w-wanted to e-end m-my l-life, I-I s-still w-want, b-but T-Taehyung b-brought m-me h-here," he mumbled as he wiped his tears away.

Yoongi was tempted to reach out to the younger boy but he held back. It wouldn't be good on his part. That's why he had been transferred to this hospital in the first place, he got too involved with his patients. "You do know that even bacteria are very important to us, right? No one in this world was made on a whim. Everyone has their role in society, maybe you just haven't found yours yet. You came to this world when you were meant to and you will go when you're meant to. Plus there's no guarantee you can end your life when you want to, right? So for now, why not live because you have to? Live because someone else wants you to?"

"B-but I-I don't e-even want it m-myself?" Jungkook said as he moved a little away from the doctor sitting next to him. He looked at the wall and took his notebook and pencil from under his pillow. He opened it at an empty page and looked at Yoongi's side profile of his face. He tried to draw it, normally Jungkook didn't draw young people since he didn't see them a lot. Though there were times he could leave his room he never did. He didn't want to bother others. He sketched Yoongi's face as he wrote next to the sketch 'Doctor Min'

"Maybe you haven't found it yet, your urge to live. How about we look for it? You said you liked dressing and listening to music- speaking of which... Do you even get to listen to music?" Yoongi said, frowning slightly as he looked around the room.

"N-no," Jungkook mumbled as he looked into his notebook again. "T-they d-don't let m-me have electronic d-devices," He said as he added a sketch of Yoongi's earring in his sketchbook. He liked the earring. It was a beautiful silver star.

"Apparently you don't go out either. So, we'll go out now. Grab what you want to, we're going for a tour. You need to get out of this room. And while coming back, we'll go to my room and listen to some music before coming back. Let's go," Yoongi said, flipping the pages closed and putting his pen away before standing up.

"N-no thank y-you," Jungkook said as he didn't make a move. "I-I'm fine h-here," He mumbled as he looked up to the doctor.

"I didn't give you a choice Jungkook, let's go," Yoongi said, his voice firm but not harsh, he wanted Jungkook out of the room and have a change of scenery. It would help Jungkook and Yoongi knew Jungkook knew that.

"O-okay," Jungkook said as he looked at Yoongi. "I-I'm s-sorry," He mumbled as he stood up and walked behind Yoongi out of his white room. Yoongi's words were quite harsh and Jungkook got scared he disappointed Yoongi in some way. Yoongi suppressed his sigh and nodded, slowing down to walk alongside Jungkook, smiling and greeting every patient and doctor and nurse he saw.

"You don't have to be sorry, I want you to enjoy yourself a bit more and realize what life can hold, even when you're in a facility like this." Yoongi clarified, walking towards the garden they had put up at the time of establishment and was still maintained well.

"Okay," Jungkook mumbled, fiddling with his hands as he looked around, Yoongi said hello to every patient, doctor, and nurse they passed, Jungkook didn't know any of them. He was nervous around these people he didn't know. They walked in the direction of the garden, a place where Jungkook would've gone to if he didn't have to pass the halls. Yoongi turned to Jungkook, noticing how he was slumped over which made him look the same height as himself.

"You okay Jungkook?" Yoongi asked, noticing his wide eyes flitting about spasmodically.

"You don't have to be nervous. These people, they're no different than you. Everyone here, trust me everyone, is here living because they can't die. Me too, so don't worry, you're not alone." He pushed the door open to the garden, which was filled with colorful flowers and rich green grass and a few tall trees. Jungkook walked into the garden, mesmerized by the beauty of the green place filled with nature.

"Pretty," He mumbled towards a flower as he looked at it. "D-do t-they have r-roses?" Jungkook asked. Knowing that Roses wouldn't be the smartest in a hospital with mentally ill people.

"They do, but they're hidden. Come along," Yoongi instructed as he pulled his white coat off, folding it over his arm before walking towards the back of the garden. Beyond a small gate, there was a garden of only different colored roses. Using his fingerprint to push the gate open, he walked through the mechanical gate, calling Jungkook to follow him in. Jungkook silently followed Yoongi to the roses. He looked at them and smiled.

"T-Taehyung hyung always t-told m-me I-I was b-beautiful like a r-rose," Jungkook said as he smiled sadly.

"I g-get why h-he s-said it I-I l-look g-good but, w-when you w-want to g-get closer I-I'll hurt y-you," He stuttered as he looked at the rose. Trying not to make his fingers bleed from the thorns.

"But it also depends on the person who holds the rose. The rose has its thorns for defense. If you want to stay guarded and keep others out, you may end up hurting them. Or you may let them choose if they think the pain is worth it because personally, I think the pain is worth it." Yoongi finished as he grabbed onto a stem carefully, pulling the rose closer to smell it, his fingers unaffected by the thorns.

"You should know how to handle the thorns. If you hold the rose the wrong way, yes you'll get hurt but not all of the stem is covered in thorns." Yoongi reminded Jungkook while pointing out bits of the stem which was void of thorns and had small needle-like projections instead. "If the rose is abused, these little needles-like projections will turn into thorns too."

"T-then e-everybody i-is a rose, and t-their l-lovers are the f-florists who know how to h-handle t-their thorns?" Jungkook said as he looked at Yoongi taking a rose. Afraid that his doctor would hurt himself with the thorns.

"Perhaps they are," Yoongi said as he walked over to sit under a tree. "But it's not just lovers, there can be several people who can come into your life and stay and not get hurt no matter what you say or do. Doesn't have to be only a lover. It can even be just a friend who cares." Yoongi looked at his hands which had impressions of the thorns but not a single cut, he smiled, he knew how to handle these thorns that he had been taught to handle by his childhood friend who was a florist.

"Oh," Jungkook said as he listened to Yoongi. Yoongi was smart. Jungkook looked at Yoongi who smiled at his hand, his hand didn't have a single scratch from the thorned flower. "I h-hope I will h-have more people i-in my life who I won't h-hurt with my t-thorns," Jungkook said to Yoongi, hoping that his doctor would be one of them in the future.

"You will. But you need to also know that there are people who want to stay and eventually, you should shed your thorns too. Before you wither." Yoongi spoke looking up at the slouched figure. "You should come out more. Maybe your ashen looking skin will start to look better... You're tall, stand straight, Jungkook. You need to own up to yourself first before others can embrace you as you are."

"I d-don't know," Jungkook whispered as he looked to a rose that was so close to the floor hidden under the shadow of all other roses. Jungkook sat down on the floor carefully taking the rose in his hand. "W-will you t-try to be the f-florist w-who c-can handle my t-thorns for n-now?" Jungkook asked looking up at the doctor who stood next to him.

Yoongi smiled slightly, crouching down next to him, "that's why I'm here. Even if you didn't want me to, I'd still try to be the florist to your rose. So will you let me take care of you? I want to help you get out of here. But you need to want that too. Do you want to get out of here? I can help you now, later and be next to you every step of the way but only if you want it."

Jungkook looked to his side where Yoongi sat down next to him. Not quite sure what Yoongi meant, did he mean it as a friend? Or as a doctor. "You w-will still get your s-salary," Jungkook stuttered as he looked at the roses again.

Yoongi laughed, "why are you worried about my salary? It's just the type of person I am." He sighed and ran his hands through the blades of grass. "I've always been very attached to my clients. I want to help them all the way, always. It's not about my job, it's just who I am." Yoongi said, slightly wistfully, his lips pursed after he went silent.

"The other doctors don't care like you do," Jungkook whispered to the floor, "I like that." Jungkook hoped that Yoongi didn't hear the last comment. He didn't want to embarrass himself already. He was rather good at these things as he stood up, removing the dirt that had gotten onto his jeans.

"I guess I can hope then you'll treat me differently than the other doctors?" Yoongi asked, still crouching on the floor. The plants looked slightly dehydrated, maybe he'd tell the gardeners to pay a bit more attention to these roses.

"I c-can t-try," Jungkook said as he looked at the sky. Which had turned dark gray. "It's getting darker, it might rain," Jungkook mumbled to himself.

Yoongi looked up too and smiled, "I guess the gardeners don't have to worry, the rain is better for the plants anyway." He stood up, stretching slightly before starting to head towards the bright white facility again.

"Come, let me show you my chamber. If you want, you can lounge in there whenever till curfew time. I'll leave something you can play music in, in my room so you don't have to have anything electronic in your possession." Yoongi continued to talk to Jungkook as he crossed the other garden, pausing once in a while to look at the flowers and other plants.

"T-thank you," Jungkook muttered as he looked at a withered flower. He looked at Yoongi again and followed him into the white building. He hadn't listened to music in some time. Yoongi waited once he entered the building, walking again once Jungkook catches up with him. He makes small conversation once in a while, when he sees someone familiar, stopping Jungkook every time by putting a hand on his shoulder. After they get to his chamber, Yoongi sighs and tosses his coat on his chair, closing the door.

"I'm sorry it took us so long to get here. After we're done here, I'll take you back to your room. Then after that, you can come back here anytime. I'll leave the door open. And if it gets locked, my password is 030993. You can enter whenever you want that way." Yoongi said as he searched for his phone and earphones, handing his unlocked phone with the earphones plugged into Jungkook who was still standing. "You can sit, make yourself comfortable," Yoongi said as he sank into his own chair.

"Y-yes," Jungkook mumbled as he sat down on one of the chairs with the phone in his hands. He opened the music app to search for his favorite artists. He listened to the music he hadn't heard in a long time, he listened to new tunes from them and smiled as he heard an old song he hadn't listened in a year. He searched more songs he used to listen to a lot and smiled at every single one he still enjoyed. Yoongi entered details of his round into his computer, sneaking a glance at Jungkook every once in a while. After he was done with filling in the details, he started putting his notes from today in general into his computer so he could reflect back later and maybe improve. Pausing in his note taking, he looked at Jungkook for a bit before reaching for the telephone on his desk, calling the main desk to tell them he was going to have food with the patients today so he could understand their lifestyle here better.

"D-doctor," Jungkook mumbled into the phone. "C-can I-I c-call y-you H-Hyung?" he asked nervously as he looked up from the phone. Yoongi put the phone back after mumbling a thank you and looked at Jungkook.

"Hyung? Sure, if that makes you feel more comfortable," Yoongi said nodding before pulling himself back in front of the computer. "It'll be time for dinner soon, we should go down then." He said as he continued to type.

"O-okay Hyung," Jungkook mumbled as he took out the earphones and gave the smartphone back to Yoongi. "T-Thank you Hyung," He said as he looked to the floor again.

Yoongi stared at Jungkook squarely, "Did you enjoy listening to music? I told you I'll leave something for you to listen to music on. I think I'll bring my extra phone that no one calls on. You can listen to music on that. No need to thank me, I told you I'll help you."

"I did," Jungkook said as he smiled. "You don't have to, that'll be breaking rules!" Jungkook said as he looked at Yoongi. "But I'm hungry," he smiled. Yoongi stood up and pushed his chair in, leaving his coat on his chair, prepared to leave with just his id card.

"Let's go for dinner then. I'm having dinner with you too, I hope you don't mind," Yoongi said as he waited by the door after opening it, waiting for Jungkook to leave first. Once they were walking down the hallway, Yoongi leaned towards Jungkook to whisper, "Irl be bending the rules, not breaking them. Plus I'm responsible."

"O-okay Hyung," Jungkook mumbled following Yoongi to the dining room. They walked silently as Jungkook looked at the white walls. There was no art on the walls, no color just white. "W-why are the w-walls so empty?" Jungkook wondered as he looked at Yoongi.

Yoongi shrugged, "I guess it's their way of keeping it 'clean' or them trying to not trigger anyone by having a certain color of design on the wall. This is a sterile environment and I think that's how they think it should be. Once you get out, maybe you can tell them to change the walls?" Yoongi finished as he pushed the door to the dining hall open, and he knew he was dreading the meal because there was no way it was going to taste good. It was hospital food.

"Maybe," Jungkook mumbled as he walked to a table in the corner. "L-let's eat t-there," He said pointing at the table he wanted to sit at. Yoongi nodded and headed to the table a bit behind Jungkook, his eyes raking over the room.

"Why the corner?" He asked quietly as they sat down.

"I-it asks less a-attention," Jungkook said as he sat down looking at Yoongi. "I-I don't l-like attention," He added as he looked at the table.

"Sorry, that means you won't like me... Because I'm going to give you endless attention." Yoongi pointed out, his eyes still trained on Jungkook. "Should we go get the food? It's self-help here, isn't it?" Yoongi said, laying his hands flat on the table, looking at the spread across the room.

"I-I'm okay w-with you," Jungkook smiled nervously as he stood up. "L-let's g-get food," He said as he walked to the 'buffet' which was barely a buffet.

Yoongi followed behind Jungkook, "you don't have to be so nervous around me..." He took a plate, scrunching his nose up at all the tasteless food. "No wonder you're losing weight... I'm sorry you have to eat this sort of meals." Yoongi sighed, shaking his head as he thought over what to tell the management because he was definitely going to change the food served in here.

"O-oh I g-guess," He mumbled taking some of the food and a weird liquid they called as some soda. He stood at the end waiting for his hyung to finish. Jungkook didn't get a lot of food so he finished rather fast. "A-Are you done?" Jungkook asked as Yoongi walked to him.

"I... I don't feel that hungry. Yeah, I'm done," Yoongi said, slightly deflated by looking at all the food. He put a hand on Jungkook's back and guided him back to the table, a frown etched into his face. "I need to talk about this to the management as soon as I can." He mumbled to himself as he sat down again.

"W-why?" Jungkook asked hearing what Yoongi mumbled. He took a bite from the tasteless rice he had taken on his plate, ready to throw up. "I-I wish I c-could go t-to McDonalds again," Jungkook mumbled as he shoved the plate forward done with eating after three bites of the tasteless food.

Yoongi bit his lip and tapped on the table. "Hey listen, Jungkook.... Can you please eat a bit more? Please? I promise I'll get you a burger tomorrow. I can bring lunch in so I'll bring in some for you too and we'll have it in our office? You're going to become underweight at this rate... I don't want you to... Just... Finish this today?" Yoongi coaxed him carefully.

"I-I'm n-not that h-hungry," He mumbled, he just really didn't like the food. Jungkook was about ready to throw up as he took another bite and had to keep his hand in front of his mouth. "I-I'm s-sorry, I c-can't eat m-more," he said as he shoved the plate away and took a sip from the vague soda. Which wasn't any better.

Yoongi pushed his glass of water towards Jungkook, "Have the water, it's the only thing here that tastes like it should." He sighed deeply, if this was the food they were serving, they wouldn't be getting anywhere with their "diets". No wonder all the patients he had seen had only been deteriorating. Jungkook looked at the concerned doctor and took the glass of water. It was the only thing he trusted in the hospital.

"O-okay," He said as he took a careful sip from the cold water. His stomach reacted with disgust, he didn't eat or drink a lot beside the times he had assigned to himself because the food here was so terrible. "W-will you r-really buy me a h-hamburger?" Jungkook asked, his eyes were big from disbelief. No doctor would actually do such things to patients, they didn't care.

"Why not? I said I'd be your florist, right? I mean I'd rather be your gardener than florist because a gardener can help you grow and improve but yes, I mean it. You can see it for yourself tomorrow then if you don't believe me or trust me yet." Yoongi shrugged. It wouldn't be surprising if Jungkook didn't trust him. He wasn't supposed to trust anyone right off the bat, Yoongi was supposed to earn his trust which is what he was going to do.

"T-thank you H-Hyung," Jungkook said as he thought about the hamburger. "C-can y-you- I-I don't w-want to be a bother," He started. "You k-know n-nevermind," He mumbled looking into the glass of water again. Yoongi nodded at the helper who asked if he could clear their plates, watching as he took away the barely touched food.

"It's okay, you can tell me," he said as he directed his attention back to Jungkook.

"C-can you b-buy me new n-notebooks?" He asked nervously as Jungkook still held onto the glass, actually a transparent plastic cup, with water. "A-and some a-aquarelle-paint," he whispered softly. He really wanted to paint with aquarelles. Yoongi nodded, pulling out his phone to take down notes. He would order them now and get them delivered tomorrow morning before coming in. That way he could bring them in tomorrow itself for Jungkook. He did have a list of other things other patients had asked from him and bring the doctor he was, he couldn't refuse them. He had already ordered a few things and he ordered some things for Jungkook as well.

"Water colors, so I'm guessing also brushes and a mug to put the dirty water in. And a sketchbook. All to be delivered tomorrow." Yoongi smiled as he finished paying, looking up at Jungkook after he was done. "Don't hesitate with me, Jungkook. I want you to be open with me, completely raw. I'm not here to judge you. I'm here to listen and help in any way I can. Let's go back."

"Y-yes let's g-go back," Jungkook said as he stood up. Hoping that Yoongi wouldn't be like any other doctor. He already proved a lot of himself, as a caring doctor. Jungkook hoped he could one day trust Yoongi.

#angst #fluff #jjk #myg #writing #roleplayed #au #bts

7 notes · View notes

edc-creations-blog · 6 years

Text

Maxine Listens by Dr. Lynda Mubarak (Book II, Detective Maxine Hill Series)

Young Detective Maxine Hill is always busy performing community service, investigating issues, and exploring future careers. However, Maxine is facing a special challenge this year. This time it’s very personal. Follow our little problem solver as she finds a solution for a unique situation. Detective Maxine HIll is on the case again and she’s on the way back! If you enjoyed Maxine’s New Job, you will like Book II of the series; Maxine Listens.

Book Excerpt: Maxine Listens

One afternoon Maxine Hill began to notice some changes in her vision during her math class. Her teacher, Mr. Norman, was explaining a process on the whiteboard and his writing was completely blurred. She knew she would eventually grow tired of asking Mr. Norman to repeat the instructions, even the ones written on the board. Maxine finally asked to be moved closer to the front of the class. After a few weeks she realized the new seating arrangement did not seem to be helping. Mr. Norman had also noticed her squinting her eyes on several occasions and decided to call Maxine’s mother, Mrs. Hill, and discuss the situation.

“Mr. Norman, I am so glad you brought this to our attention. I am noticing how Max has to adjust her glasses several times when we are working on a puzzle, playing Scrabble, or watching a movie. I’ll call our ophthalmologist and make an appointment immediately,” said Mrs. Hill.

Maxine did not like the sound of that. She did not enjoy visits to the doctor’s office, especially when her eyes had to be dilated.

“Oh no, not another eye appointment,” Maxine uttered in a slow moan. “The eye drops don’t hurt Mom, but the ride home is rough because the sun seems extra bright after my eyes are dilated.”

“I know honey, but Dr. Chambers has to look inside those beautiful brown eyes to see what’s going on,” Mrs. Hill replied.

Maxine smiled.

That night, Maxine sat on the couch with her Dad watching TV. When she briefly took her eyes off the screen she caught a glimpse of her cat, Amos. He was sitting on her mother’s favorite chair.

“Shoo Amos! Get down from there!” Maxine waved. Amos scurried off the chair onto the floor. “Wow!” she shouted, “I am so glad tomorrow is Friday! It’s been a busy week at school and I’m looking forward to enjoying the weekend.”

“Well,” replied Mrs. Hill, tapping her foot against the carpet, “if you want to enjoy the weekend then you better head upstairs and get ready for bed. It’s a school night. Do you know what time it is young lady?”

“Please Mom!” Maxine begged, “It’s only 9:30 and tomorrow is Friday.”

“I know honey,” said Mrs. Hill as she sat down on her favorite chair, “but you need all the rest you can get because we have your early morning appointment with Dr. Chambers. I have your doctor’s note prepared for the attendance office tomorrow explaining your late arrival, so go upstairs and get ready for bed. Right now!”

“OK Mom. I can’t believe I forgot all about my eye appointment. Nighty-night, Dad,” Maxine said reluctantly, dragging her feet across the floor and adjusting her glasses.

“What did you say Max?” Mr. Hill asked.

“I said . . . NIGHTY-NIGHT, DAD!” Maxine raised her voice and laughed.

Mr. Hill nodded and smiled as Maxine gave him a big hug, scooped up Amos and ran up the stairs. The next morning, Maxine and Mrs. Hill left early to avoid the traffic which seemed to swell between 6:30 am and 8:00 am, especially during the weekdays. Maxine noticed the construction workers drilling and operating the huge cranes as they passed the detour signs. The highway was filled with red dust blowing from the machinery.

“Mom, when are they going to finish this interstate? They have been working on this since I was in second grade,” said Maxine with a frown on her face. Mrs. Hill smiled, “Baby, you might be a senior in high school before it’s completed. Road construction sometimes lasts for years.” Maxine sighed, put her head back on the seat, closed her eyes and listened to her favorite musical group on the radio for the remainder of the ride.

After arriving at the doctor’s office, Maxine sat on the red leather chair next to Dr. Chambers’ rack of magazines, and began looking over the latest issues. Hmm, where are the kid’s magazines? I don’t want to read the Ladies Home Journal, thought Maxine. As soon as she found a copy of Sports Illustrated for Kids with an interesting article named “Girls on The Mound,” the receptionist walked into the patient waiting area with a folder in her hand and announced, “Maxine Hill.”

“OK Max, that’s us,” said Mrs. Hill.

Moments later, Maxine sat quietly as Dr. Chambers began his eye exam. “Max, your mom says you have been having some vision problems in class lately.”

“Yes, mostly in math class when I’m looking back and forth from the whiteboard to my notebook,” answered Maxine.

“Well, your exam shows no serious vision concerns, but your prescription needs to be upgraded for another pair of glasses. This is not unusual for your nearsightedness. We will discuss contacts as you get older. Until then, you will be just fine. However, I would like to see you in six months,” explained Dr. Chambers.

Mrs. Hill smiled and thanked Dr. Chambers. Maxine shook Dr. Chambers’ hand and walked out to the receptionist’s counter while her mom waited on the instructions for the next appointment. A few minutes later they left the doctor’s office and headed for B. H. Obama Elementary School.

As they walked to the car, Maxine said, “Mom, I saw some cool, round purple frames in the 20-20 Optical Store window in the mall last week. Can we take my new prescription there this weekend and see if they can measure them for me?”

“We sure can Max. It’s a deal,” Mrs. Hill gleamed.

( Continued… )

© 2019 All rights reserved. Book excerpt reprinted by permission of the author, Dr. Lynda Mubarak. Do not reproduce, copy or use without the author’s written permission. This excerpt is used for promotional purposes only.

Maxine Listens by Dr. Lynda Mubarak will be released on March 23, 2019 Picture Book for ages 6-10. Genre: Children’s Literature Purchase books: https://www.amazon.com/Lynda-Mubarak/e/B01ELLYYGO

Intimate Conversation with Dr. Lynda Mubarak

BPM Describe yourself in three words. I am funny, optimistic and creative.

BPM What drove you to publish your first book? How long have you been writing? I did not write my first book until I retired as a special education teacher and facilitator. I have been writing professionally for three years.

BPM Introduce us to the people in the book, Maxine Listens. Give us some insight into your main speakers. The main characters in Maxine Listens are 5th grader student Maxine Hill and her parents, the Hills. Maxine is an only child with a pet cat named Amos. She spend hours reading, doing community service with her family at a local food pantry. Maxine enjoys solving mysteries, puzzles, and other family, neighborhood and school events. She is often told by her mom that she asks far too many questions. Her family thinks she may have a future career in law enforcement as a detective or in forensic science as an investigator or researcher. Maxine reads constantly, is president of her school book club, plays Scrabble with her BFF, Amanda Grayson, and often enrolls in courses offered at the local library including American Sign Language and Creative Writing. Mr. and Mrs. Hill are often amazed by Maxine’s interest in anything and everything from architecture and engineering to learning Mandarin Chinese.

BPM Share one specific point in your book that resonated with your present situation or journey. Maxine’s mothers tells her, “Max, if you want to learn the truth about a person or a group of people, take some time to learn how they live, work and play.” I think so much time is spent analyzing or over-analyzing people or other cultures that we often forget that life experiences are different for all of us and we are all products of the events and backgrounds in our life. Your view of life can transition as you mature and grow. How you feel about a person or situation at 20 may be totally different by the time you reach 35. We all live our lives in phases.

BPM Tell us about you most recent work with the community. I have a lifetime partnership with the Community Food Bank of Fort Worth, TX. A percentage of each book sold by Stations for Kids is donated to the food bank to assist families in need and displaced workers. I am honored to part of an organization that provides so much for so many!

BPM What was one of the most surprising things you learned in creating your book? I was surprised by the families that related to my themes in my first and second Maxine books. The story topics are common to all families and Maxine offers some simple solutions to the challenges faced by each family in the stories. The solutions are doable and simple to implement.

BPM Do you ever have days when writing is a struggle? Writers are often overcome with the term ‘writer’s block’. What I have discovered as many will affirm, is that ‘writer’s block’ is another term for distractions. Daily distractions keep you from focusing and remaining grounded until your book is completed. Finances, children, job issues, aging parents, ill family members, or personal medical issues can be a deterrent to your book project. It often becomes difficult to stay on course while keeping your purpose on target, and allowing your faith to provide the strength to forge ahead. You must select a time each day or on the weekend to pull away from everyone for a few hours and continue your writing journey. It is essential if you truly want to become an author.

BPM What project are you working on at the present? I am currently completing Maxine’s Hands, Book 3 of the Detective Maxine Hill Series. Maxine continues to learn new concepts and apply her knowledge of community service anywhere it is needed. In progress is a Stations for Kids website which will be completely kid friendly and interactive.

BPM What legacy to you hope to leave future generations of readers with your writing? I would like to instill a love of reading and writing to the readers of my writing. I want them to know that reading my book or other great literature will allow your mind to flourish, explore and navigate through life and its challenges. In addition, reading will increase your critical thinking skills and provide a way to understand mankind in general. They also need to know that everything you need to know about yourself and life has been recorded in a book somewhere.

BPM What is your preferred method to have readers get in touch with or follow you? Readers can get in touch with me by email at [email protected]

Website: http://www.lyndamubarak.com Twitter: https://twitter.com/stationsforkids Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/lyndamubarak Amazon Page: amazon.com/author/lyndamubarak.com IG: https://www.instagram.com/ljmubarakstationsforkids

Maxine Listens by Dr. Lynda Mubarak (Book II, Detective Maxine Hill Series) Maxine Listens by Dr. Lynda Mubarak (Book II, Detective Maxine Hill Series) Young Detective Maxine Hill is always busy performing community service, investigating issues, and exploring future careers.

0 notes

cubaverdad · 7 years

Text

Interview with El Sexto (Danilo Maldonado) in San Francisco

Interview with El Sexto (Danilo Maldonado) in San Francisco Danilo "El Sexto" Maldonado is in San Francisco, planning for the opening of his art exhibit, "Angels and Demons," at the Immersive ART LAB, 3255A Third Street, May 11, 6-10pm. His exhibit is sponsored by the Human Rights Foundation as part of its Art in Protest series. This interview took place with the translation help of Alexandra Martínez. Regina Anavy: Danilo, I know that you've already had interviews with the Los Angeles Times, the Washington Post and other people about your experiences as a political prisoner in Cuba. Now I want to ask you about your artistic process. How you were able to create art while you were in prison? Danilo Maldonado: I wasn't able to paint in prison. I could only draw. RA: How did you get drawing materials? DM: To draw, all I need is pencils and plain sheets of paper. RA: Did you have visitors who brought you these materials? DA: My family brought colored pencils and pens and paper. RA: Did the authorities try to prevent you from having these materials? DM: Yes, that happened. They search everything, and a lot of the things they take away. For example, they didn't let my mother take in my asthma medication, but I could get pens and little notebooks, as long as there was nothing already written on them. RA: What did you do without your medication? DM: A friend provided it for me until my mother finally was able to bring it in. RA: How did you have the space to draw in a cell with other people? DM: The same place where I was living and sleeping was the place where I could draw: my bed. I wrote letters but also spent my time drawing. RA: How did you get your drawings out? DM: In Valle Grande, I could always get somebody to help me take out the drawings. Someone who worked with an official but who wasn't part of the searching, even sometimes an official. RA: So people were mainly sympathetic to you? DM: Some, yes. When I was in the isolation cell in Valle Grande, a doctor at one point gave me a sheet of paper and a pen so I could draw. RA: It's good to know that there were people inside the system who wanted to help you. DM: Yes. RA: How long have you been living in Miami? DM: I've been here for roughly four months in total in the U.S. RA: Are you here permanently or are you planning to go back to Cuba? DA: At the moment it doesn't make much sense – it's not very logical – for me to be in Cuba. I can't keep going to jail every five minutes. I can't help my family. Now I'm trying to start a new life here, and I'm trying to focus on my career. There are a few motives for me to return, of course, because that's my country, that's my place, but I'm not sure when that will be. RA: I understand you're having a baby with Alexandra. Congratulations. How did you two meet? Alexandra Martinez: I met him over a year ago in Miami. I'm a local journalist in Miami, and he was there for an art show, and I interviewed him, and then a few months later I went to visit family in Cuba and we started dating. DM: It was her plan to be together. She went after me. And she's been supporting me ever since. There have been a lot of dark moments but also some nice moments. RA: Alexandra, are you still working as a reporter in Miami? Alexandra Martinez: Freelancing. I went with him to Cuba for a month, and I was reporting from there. That was our original plan, for me to do that from Cuba with him, and then he went to jail. There was a moment when they didn't want me to visit Danilo. They tried taking my camera away, and then when he was in jail they wouldn't let me see him at first. They said that I was American and I wasn't really his spouse. So I couldn't see him. And then I was with his mom trying to visit him, waiting outside the prison, and in that very moment we hear Danilo's voice, and he's screaming, "They're taking me to Combinado del Este." And that was the first time that Danilo and I had seen each other in a month. They move prisoners around without informing the family. Families have to struggle to find out where the prisoners are, and it was lucky that we were out there. DM: In 55 days I was moved to six prisons. RA: And each time your family didn't know where they had taken you? DM: No. But I would always find a way to relate the news back to my mom. Whether that was through a prisoner who had recently been released or a friend who worked there, I would always find a way to get the news back to her. RA: Were you allowed to have telephone calls? DM: No. It was always very difficult for me to get to the phone. It was complicated, because if the guards helped me they would get into trouble. RA: Did you have trouble getting a visa to come to the U.S.? DM: No. I have a five-year travel visa. RA: Are you planning to study art here? DM: If they pay me, I will teach. I'm not a student anymore. I absorb what's going on around me, and it would be difficult for someone else coming from a different tradition, a different place and time to teach me something. I've always drawn from when I was little. I had art history professors; then I studied marketing and public relations. RA: I understand your mother is in Cuba and you also have a daughter there. DM: Yes, but my mother can't travel. She doesn't have a passport. My daughter has a British passport, like her mother, and I'm trying to see if they will be able to come over here, so I can see my daughter. RA: Is your art recognized in Cuba as much as it is outside? DM: There are many people who know me, who recognize me in many parts of Cuba, in my neighborhood. I didn't make myself famous on social media at first. I'm a graffiti artist who invaded the street, and the people on the street know me. It's a different type of thing, because bloggers, journalists and people who tweet or do interviews are famous on social media, but I'm coming from the street and this gives me a different type of visibility. For example, on May Day, May 1, the activist who went out with the American flag and was beaten, many people had known him and seen him before, but never on the television screen. Although many people would never dare do that, many people now know about him, like the famous Reggaeton artist, Chacal. They will give a shout-out in a concert, and the popular rap group, Los Aldeanos, who are on film, critical of the Regime, have made songs about me as well. Now is when I'm able to take my career to another level of visibility. I'm really just trying to show and teach others through my own conduct. RA: Do you feel now that you're outside that you're getting more information about what is going on in Cuba with opponents of the Regime? DM: Yes, now I can get a lot more, but I already have my network and I'm well connected. I know what's going on in my neighborhood. RA: Is this through the Internet, telephone, word of mouth? DM: Facebook. RA: What was your reaction when Obama suddenly ended the wet foot /dry foot policy? DM: Unfortunately the issue of immigration and people entering the country is really only a concern for the president of that country. Really it was Obama's decision whether or not to end the policy. The reason Cubans emigrate is not really Obama's fault. The blame is on the Castro Regime for forcing people to leave. And at the end of the day, I'm more concerned about the problems facing the Cuban people. Even I could have been a victim of the change, of not being able to come into the country, but really the people to blame is the Castro government. The main concern is changing things inside Cuba. The dictatorship is to blame for me even being here right now. The country's a prison. Look at all the people who attacked the man with the flag. There are people who get attacked and don't appear on television. But we need to be very clear about who's to blame here, because maybe even if they [the Castro Regime] are brought to international trial, they could be set free, and we need to be very clear. Who's to blame? The guard in the prison? The police officer who didn't want to open the door for me or the security guard who was beating me up for saying something? In this case both of them are guilty, RA: Our mutual friend, Orlando Luis Pardo Lazo wants to ask you this question: Was it easy to find a tattoo artist willing to put the image of the martyrs, Laura Pollán and Oswaldo Payá on your skin? Tell us about that experience and what it means to you. [There is a You Tube video of the tattooing.] DM: Yes. A friend made the appointment. I explained what I wanted to do. He told me, "Don't record my face." And immediately I had a solo appointment just for me. Another problem with art is that tattoo artists in Cuba are persecuted by the Regime. It's not a legal business. They don't give out licenses. Everyone is persecuted. RA: Orlando Luis Pardo Lazo has another question: In 2011, in the first article ever published about you, which appeared in Diario de Cuba, he quoted you as saying that you were like "the noise of the people." Today, six years later, what do you feel is the noise of Cuba? DM: I believe that there's some "noise" now with respect to graffiti. There are a few graffiti street artists, like Yulier [Yulier Rodríguez Pérez]. I love his work. He does graffiti on the street, very morose-looking surrealist creatures. He's not outrightly political; he doesn't associate himself with anything political. Right now I'm in a process of war against the bad in Cuba, and even heroes like José Martí had to leave Cuba and go into exile for some years. So I consider what I'm doing now to be part of this process, part of this war that I'm fighting. I didn't leave to forget about what's going on. I don't stop working. I don't stop thinking every moment, every day, about what I started and what I want to achieve. So there's a lot left to do. RA: What about what's happening in Venezuela. What would it take for a movement like that to happen in Cuba? DM: No, it's a different situation. The people in Venezuela are completely different. RA: What do you predict will happen when Raúl steps down in 2018? DA: I don't like predictions. The future belongs to the future. But I believe that what comes after Raúl is going to be another Castro. They will put different faces, different people to control the economy, different people to control different sectors, but at the end of the day they're all puppets for the Regime. And one day they can put up on the television that so-and-so, like Miguel Díaz Canel, is betraying the revolution. Mariela Castro knows what she's doing with the homosexual community, running around with the flag, and they're trying to make out that what she's doing is not a political campaign, not a political strategy, but of course it is. What's coming is Mariela. That's what they're preparing. She's taking a political platform. And if it were the sons, they would have created a political campaign for them. But the only thing people see is Mariela Castro going around, touting herself, doing whatever she wants and getting away with it, so we can only imagine that she is staging a political campaign to build the next face, the future of the revolution, something progressive, a human rights activist, a woman. RA: But she wont be officially replacing her father. DM: No. I wouldn't dare make that type of prediction, but I can see that she'll be the president; she'll be the one controlling everything from behind the scenes. It will all be the same. RA: So we should talk about your upcoming art exhibit in San Francisco. DM: I'll be inside of a cell for three days not eating anything, just drinking water. RA: And at night? DM: Same thing. I'll be drawing portraits of political prisoners to raise awareness not just in Cuba but also in the whole world. RA: What about a bathroom? DM: There is one inside the cell. RA: Are you going to have more of your paintings up in the gallery? DM: There will be a total of about 20-25 paintings, all the drawings I did in prison and the most recent ones. They will be for sale. RA: And this exhibit is going on how long? DM: Two weeks, but I'll only be there for three days. RA: What are your future plans? DM: I'll continue with my work here. First I'm trying to take my art to the next level. Not just in the U.S. but in the whole world, the free world. Now there's a show coming up called "Angels and Demons," on May 11. Then I'm going to Europe for an Oslo Freedom Forum and Internet event, and then in September, this same show is going to Houston. The goal is to not stop working, to build a larger platform, so that when I decide to go back to Cuba, I will have a larger following, a larger layer of protection. We're dealing with a group of murderers, of assassins, and we don't know if they will detain me or not, so I have to keep doing what I'm doing. That's my job. Source: Interview with El Sexto (Danilo Maldonado) in San Francisco – Translating Cuba - http://ift.tt/2pA8Aa9 via Blogger http://ift.tt/2r2O2Iv

0 notes