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tomtenadia · 4 years ago

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Remember Us - 7

I know we are in full Rowaelin month but I thought to give you part 7 as a present...

There is a small library scene in perfect theme with Day 4. (This is not part of Rowaelin month. Just a coincidence)

The chapters are getting less angsty. As I mentioned in a post a few days ago... i Finished the story and it has 10 parts. That was the original plan and I promise a HEA

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Rowan had spent the entire day going through all of their albums. Evalin had offered to look after Freyja, but instead he had kept the girl in his arms while sitting on the carpet and and album in front of him.

He had just finished the one about Thomas and now opened the one dedicated to his daughter. They were both still a working in progress as it looked like Aelin would just record the stages in their lives.

“Look, who is this one?” The little girl pointed at the picture and babbled something.

“This is you.” He told her in a loving tone “the most precious thing in our lives with your brother.”

“You did it, Fireheart.” Rowan kissed the head of an exhausted Aelin, while the doctors were busy cleaning and checking on their daughter.

The nurse walked to them with a bundle in her arms and gave it to Aelin “I think your daughter is ready to meet you.” And placed the baby on Aelin’s chest.

Rowan sat at her side, his arms around her shoulder as he drew closer his two women.

“She is like you, Ro.”

He kissed her forehead “I love you both. Madly.”

In another photo he saw Thomas in the hospital bed near her mother, kissing his sister head and the caption read Thomas is officially a big brother and he finally gets to meet his sister.

“ ‘Mas” babbled Freyja, pointing at the photo.

“Yes, that is your brother.”

Page by page he followed his daughter life and as it happened for Thomas, some moments became familiar all of a sudden.

Looking at photos had been a great idea but with Aelin’s captions had been even better as it was as if someone was actually telling him the story.

He looked at a couple of more albums but then he felt an headache coming and his vision was getting tired as well, so he grabbed Freyja and went to lie down on the sofa, making sure that she was tucked in safely between him and the back of the sofa. Evalin was busy doing chores around the house. He pulled the little girl to his chest and he started humming a tune while his hand caressed her head.

Not long after they were both asleep.

Evalin appeared back in the living room not long after and when she saw the scene in front of her she almost cried. Then she took her phone and snapped a picture and sent it to Aelin Your husband and your daughter are having some quality time together.

“How’s the study session going?” A younger Rowan paused beside a table in a university library.

The blonde woman in front of him groaned in exasperation “med school. Of all the degrees I choose from, I went for the worst one.” Her head collapsed heavily on the books in front of her “I want to be a neurosurgeon, I don’t care about the kidneys. Why am I studying this crap?”

Rowan smiled and placed a cup of coffee on the table “you need caffeine.”

Aelin lifted her head “yes, in IV.” She extended her arm and Rowan chuckled “you are the doctor, you will have to perform that on yourself.” He laughed and patted her head “I can tell you the legal repercussions of me performing such a procedure without a licence.”

Aelin grabbed her coffee and drank avidly “smartass.”

“A smartass you love?”

“Keep dreaming, Whitethorn.”

When he woke up again he was not ready for the splitting headache. He tried to sit up but dizziness hit him hard and then a wave of nausea. He jumped off the sofa but crashed on the carpet. Rowan fought to stand up but his body refused to obey “Evalin,” he croaked, grabbing his head in his hands.

A moment later Evalin was at his side “Rowan, are you okay?”

He crashed back down on the carpet and groaned. Evalin slowly helped him to sit back up and she felt panic rise “I should call Aelin.”

“No,” said Rowan in a whisper as he stood shakily and sat at the opposite side of the sofa away from his sleeping daughter. He should not be around the kids. No one should be around him while he was in that state.

And in that instant nausea hit again and he grabbed his stick and slowly dragged himself to the bathroom, collapsed on the floor and emptied the content of his stomach in the toilet.

***

Aelin had just finished surgery when she noticed the worried text from her mother. Rowan was not well.

She changed from the scrubs, paged her second, told him she had a family emergency and that she had to go back home. They all knew her situation and he was understanding. She had finished her surgeries for the day so finishing early was not much of an issue.

She drove home with her heart racing with panic. She knew the complications after a brain injury and she was worried. Her mother had not specified what happened but her tone seemed frantic.

Once in front of the house she parked quickly and once in the house she found it quiet. Her mother was sitting on the sofa reading to Freyja and Thomas was on the carpet playing with his toy cars.

“Where is he?”

Evalin looked up at her “in bed. He was sick, complaining of strong headaches and he said he was tired.”

Aelin dropped her backpack and ran for the bedroom and found him asleep.

She walked to him and sat at his side at the edge on the bed and slowly caressed his head. Her strong, amazing husband looked fragile, tucked in bed and sleeping on his side. The time in the hospital had left his mark and his frame was now thinner. Her hand ran through his hair once again and then deposited a gentle kiss and in that instant his eyes popped open as she chastised herself for it.

“Hi you,”

“Hi,” his voice gruff “you are home.”

“Mum texted me that you were not well.”

He tried to sit up but Aelin kept him down “you need to rest. What are your symptoms?”

Rowan’s head collapsed back on the pillow “headache, dizziness and nausea.”

Aelin’s hand was in his hair again “it’s normal. From one to ten, how bad is the headache?”

“Seven.”

She stood and came back a moment later with a glass of water and a tablet “Just a light dose to help you a bit.”

Rowan took the water and the medicine and once he was done Aelin lay down at his side, snuggling close to him, her hand on his chest. Rowan’s arms as if on instinct went around her frame but did not hug her tight. He had no energy.

“I dreamt…” he closed his eyes for a second “I dreamt of us in the library. You were complaining about your degree and kidneys,” he told her softly “I brought you coffee.”

Aelin chuckled against his chest. She did remember exactly the day “that was when I started to fall for you.”

“Tell me,” he said, his lips brushing her hair.

“Somehow you had memorised my schedule,” she began her tale “so you would pop up in the library and keep me company studying. You with your laws and me with my crazy med stuff.” She looked up at him and found her husband staring at her “during my anatomy exam you offered to be my skeleton and I revised on you.” She flicked his nose and the gentle flinch of his nose reminded her so much of him, his usual reaction “At the end of a crazy exam you brought me cake and once my session of exams was over you asked me out.”

Rowan gave her a weak smile and she could see the tiredness in his face “you asked me to move in with you on my birthday and my present were the keys to your flat. I moved out of mine the next day and Aedion moved in with Lysandra and took my place.”

“Are we good friends with them?” He asked with interest. So far they had never discussed their friends and he thought it was time to try.

Aelin nodded “Aedion is my cousin. Lys and I were flatmates and she is my best friend.” Her hand brushed his hair once again, the gesture was relaxing and Rowan seemed to enjoy it too, his features much more relaxed “then we have Lorcan and Elide and the six of us kinda form a nice tight group.”

“Do they know about my condition?”

Aelin nodded “I explained to them and the only reason they haven’t visited is because I knew it was going to be too much so I told them to wait.”

“Thank you,” he said softly while his hand brushed her back “I can’t just yet.”

Aelin nodded again and his expression morphed as if he wanted to ask her something but hesitate. His hand moved “can I?” And Aelin knew what he meant. She took his hand and pushed it under her t-shirt and on her tiny baby bump “I don’t know yet if it’s a girl or a boy. I have a check up in two weeks and will see if we can find out the sex.”

His thumb moved gently as if to greet their child with his free hand he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he said a bit too quietly.

“I should let you rest,” Aelin tried to move but his hand grabbed her writs and pulled her back down against him. He had been enjoying that moment they had shared. His arms went around her frame and pulled her to him.

“You love to cuddle.”

“Do I?” He told her rising an eyebrow.

“Sometimes when mum takes the kids we do enjoy a lot of naked, adult cuddling.”

Rowan’s heart raced in terror “I am not…” he stopped “I can’t yet.”

“Shh…” said Aelin, placing a gentle finger on his lips “We are not doing anything you do not want to do.” She told him with love.

He pulled her even closer and tucked her head under his chin, and the position felt familiar all of a sudden, her scent enveloping his nostrils. Everything about her felt familiar, the shape of her body against his, her scent, they way she fit perfectly in his arms.

They were in silence for a moment until two small cyclones joined them.

“Dad.” Shouted Thomas quite loudly and Rowan groaned, his head not appreciating the decibels coming from his son.

“Quiet, Tom, dad is not well.”

The little boy zipped his lips and climbed in bed. Freyja padded to her father’s side and extended her arms in a gesture to be picked up. Rowan turned and lifted his daughter in his arms and pushed her under the blankets with Thomas and Aelin joined them a moment later.

“We are keeping company to dad but we need to be quiet. Can we do that?”

Thomas nodded eagerly and Freyja kept sucking on her pacifier. The little girl climbed on her father chest and Rowan rolled on his back to help her curl up properly. Thomas was tucked in at his side and Aelin’s arm reached over and enveloped them.

“Sorry, they really missed you.”

Rowan shook his head “this feels really nice and normal.”

Aelin smiled and brushed Thomas’ hair “believe me on a weekend it is, and if I am not working the four of us love a long morning in bed together.”

He chuckled and loved the image “What about the names?”

Aelin grabbed Freyja’s hand in her and kissed it “Thomas was a character in a sci-fi series that we both love. He is an Admiral and quite amazing. He is actually my fictional husband. Freyja, we took it from a mythology book.”

Rowan laughed “so I have competition.”

“Can you be an admiral?”

“I order you to kiss me, soldier.” Rowan felt a smile tug at his lips and Aelin stared at him with fondness. Then leaned forward and pressed a kiss on his lips.

“Bleah,” said Thomas in protest. Aelin stamped a big kiss on his cheek “feeling better now?” And the boy grinned and climbed down from the bed “lego.” And he ran away.

Aelin sighed “he has a lot of energy.” And now that her son space had been vacated she scooted closer to Rowan and her hand was on the girl’s back on top of Rowan’s.

“I love the kids. It’s been only a few days but I love them madly already.” He whispered looking down at his sleeping daughter. Then back at Aelin and for a brief moment he saw sadness in her eyes. Loving the kids had been easy. His feelings for her were far more complicated. He felt something but could not put a name on it yet.

“With you is…” he paused, searching for the right words. He had caused enough pain already “complicated. There is something, I can feel it, but I don’t know if it’s just the memories or my actual feelings.” His hand ran through his hair “I don’t know how to explain it clearly.”

Aelin kissed his forehead tenderly. For as much as she wanted her husband back, she was not going to rush him. He would need time and she was willing to wait. She had waited at his bedside for so long to have him awake again that she was happy to take even the small acts of affection he was willing to give her.

“I want you to have your husband back, and I am trying…”

“Shhh…” she said to him, a gentle kiss on his lips “I have him back, and I can see more of him coming back everyday. You don’t realise it but he is there.” She patted his chest “My husband is right here in my arms.”

Rowan’s hand grabbed the back of her head and pulled her to him for a fierce kiss. Aelin melted at the contact. The kiss felt like coming home and for a moment it swept away all her fears.

“Does your husband kiss you like that?” The smirk on his face and his playful tone was him and she pulled back, coming up for air.

“Seems like you remember this part very well.”

“It does help that my wife is stunning.”

Aelin smiled. He had called her his wife. Had he accepted his life? Had he accepted them?

She looked at him in his pine green eyes looking for an answer.

“Yes.”

#rowan whitethorn #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #rowan x aelin #aelin galathynius #domestic fluff

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kaimelia · 4 years ago

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Heartbeats (Ch 5)

a/n: hi! sorry for the delay with this...but it’s back!

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Amelia grimaced as she tied the back of her husband's hospital gown, wincing at the sight of his pale skin. He'd definitely lost weight, even if it had only been a few weeks since he started chemo. She sighed and dropped her hand from his back, lightly tracing down his spine as she did so. "You're feeling okay?" Link turned to face her.

"Not really." He sat down on the bed, running his hand over the neatly made sheets on the bed. Amelia crossed her arms as she watched him.

"So, we haven't really talked since our fight."

"Do we have time for this right now?" She cringed and looked down into her lap, where her hands were neatly folded over each other, her thumb absentmindedly running over the back of her hand. "Teddy said she would be coming in soon to examine me before surgery." Amelia nodded, grabbing her phone from her purse. She'd spent the past week sleeping in the guest room, avoiding any time where the two of them might be alone in fear of the fight that would break out between them.

"I'll bring Scout to come and visit after surgery. Once you're cleared, of course." Link smirked at his wife.

"As long as I don't look too scary," he muttered, pulling the thin blanket over his legs. "If there are too many wires, he might freak out and think I'm a robot now."

"I think he'll be fine. He kept asking me what parts of your body they're going to cut open; he's a pretty gruesome kid." They both laughed momentarily, freezing like statues when the door was pushed open.

"Hey, we just need to take some blood before surgery and examine you again," Teddy spoke, walking towards Link. He sat up and held his arm out. "Hopefully, the poking and prodding will stop soon," she joked, inserting a needle into his arm.

"I'm surprised I've got any left; it feels like someone comes in here to take blood every hour."

"Well, you're a pretty good sport." Teddy pulled off her gloves, closing the vial of blood and placing it down on her cart. "I'll send an intern to check on you in about an hour, and then I'll be here to take you up to surgery at noon." She rubbed Link's shoulder lightly in support before exiting the room, leaving Amelia to pull a stool over to the bed.

"I told my parents," he confessed, taking her hand in his. "They were really freaked out, my mom cried, and my dad went silent, so you've gotta keep them updated during surgery." Her free hand moved to the side of Link's face, and she kissed him slowly, pulling back and resting her forehead against his.

"Thank you. For telling them," she whispered. Link could feel the smile that was playing across her lips as he leaned up to kiss her again, his hand wrapping around her head to pull her down to him. "Mm," she moaned at the familiar feeling of her husband's lips on hers.

"I missed you." His voice was low as he pulled her closer to him, Amelia throwing one of her legs over his body on the hospital bed so she was straddling him.

"Oh, crap, I'll come back," a voice spoke from the doorway. The couple broke apart quickly, Amelia almost falling off the bed as she pulled back just for Link's hand to wrap around her back and catch her.

"Nico, I didn't realize you were coming," Link muttered, steadying his wife as she stood up. "Sorry, now is fine." The other orthopedic surgeon shook his head in amusement and approached Link, pulling his stethoscope from his neck.

"Your heart rate is elevated; any explanation for that?" Nico teased, pulling up the chart on the tablet. "But, everything looks fine. Surgery should only take about 4 hours, and I'll have Levi make sure to text you updates," he motioned towards Amelia. "And again. We're not looking for complete margins today; we're just hoping to remove enough of the cancer to stop it from spreading further around your body while you continue chemo."

"You say that like I haven't done this surgery myself," Link mused, grabbing Amelia's hand.

"It's different when you're the patient. I'm still required to explain everything in simple terms and make sure that you both understand." Nico entered the man's blood pressure into the tablet and shut it off. "Any questions?"

"Can I sign a DNR before surgery?" Amelia's jaw dropped, and her eyebrows rose up to the ceiling as she released her husband's hand.

"What?"

"I'll have a nurse bring that in for you," Nico muttered, quickly excusing himself from the room. The door locked shut, and Amelia made eye contact with Link.

"What is this about a DNR?" He sighed, scooching over in the bed to create space for her.

"Look, I've been doing a lot of thinking, and if anything happens, I don't want you to have to hold onto some tiny strand of hope that I might one day get better." Link watched a tear roll down her face. "Amelia, please don't cry. This surgery is just to remove some of the cancer; I'm not going to die during it. I just want to start making sure that everything will be taken care of if something does happen in the future."

"I just wish you had told me before. I need to know what's going on with everything, especially what you're thinking about."

"I called our lawyer and got my will in order. Mine hadn't been updated since the pandemic." He placed a hand under her chin, tilting her face to look at him. "Amelia, what you said the other week made me feel terrible. I haven't been checking in on you as much as I should be, and I know this is insanely difficult for you, too." She glanced down at his arm, her lips forming a pout. "So, I want to make sure that if everything goes to shit and something happens to me, you'll both be okay. Everything will be taken care of, and all you'll have to do is take care of each other."

"Link, please don't talk like that," Amelia nearly cried out, whimpering as she placed her hand on his chest. "I don't want to think about that, okay?" He dropped a kiss on the top of her head and brought her closer to his body.

"Okay, let's just lay here for a little while, okay? I'm not going anywhere, Amelia."

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

"Schmitt says they'll be closing up soon," Meredith rubbed her hand up and down her sister's back. "He's alright, Amelia." The brunette pursed her lips, running her hands through her hair.

"Am I gonna freak out every time he has surgery? Cause they've got, like, three more planned as of now, and if this happens every time, I think I might have a heart attack."

"I was almost convinced you were going to have a panic attack for a minute there. We'll find some distractions or do some fancy breathing techniques." Amelia grinned and pulled her phone out of her pocket. "When are you heading home?"

"Uh, I'll wait for Link to wake up and stay with him a bit. Scout's a little terrified, though, so I'm gonna bring him tomorrow when Link looks less like a zombie." She dragged her fingers over the seams of the couch in the attendings' lounge, glancing up at her sister. "Thank you for staying with me."

"Of course."

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

"Hey, look who's awake," Amelia whispered, cupping her husband's face with her hand. He smiled tiredly and brought his hand up to cover hers.

"Hey," his voice was hoarse as he spoke. "How did it go?"

"As planned, they got decent margins, and now you're sentenced back to chemo for the next few weeks." She sat down on the side of the bed. "How do you feel?"

"Like I just woke up from surgery, and I'm super high on painkillers," he muttered, a wider grin showing on his face. "How long until I can go home?"

"You've got a day or two here. I'm heading home in a bit to go comfort Scout; he's still not convinced that you're not dead, even though Maggie got him pizza and spent the afternoon with him explaining that surgery went fine." He nodded, holding an arm open.

"Come cuddle," he moaned tiredly, shoving his face back down into the pillow.

"I have to leave soon. You're not the only one I have to take care of here, just one of many men in my life," she teased, slowly easing herself down into his embrace. "Just for a little bit."

"Mm. I love you, Amelia."

"You are on so many painkillers," she joked, kissing his hand. "But, I love you too."

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

"Mommy!" Amelia grinned and kneeled down to greet her son, her arms spread widely before she embraced him tightly, kissing the side of his head.

"Hey, Scout," she picked him up, balancing the boy on her hip. "How was your day with Aunt Maggie?" Amelia made eye contact with Maggie and grinned widely, mouthing a quick 'Thank you' before Maggie excused herself, brushing her hand over her sister's shoulder as a goodbye.

"We went to the park, and Aunt Maggie got ice cream for us!" She smiled and walked into the living room, her mouth dropping at the sight in front of her.

"And what is this?"

"We made a pillow fort!" She set Scout down and got onto her hands and knees, crawling into the entrance of the fort. Scout followed her in and grabbed the stuffed giraffe past the opening, clinging it to his chest and laying onto the floor that had been covered in pillows and blankets. "Is Daddy okay?"

"Yeah, didn't Aunt Maggie tell you? They cut into his chest," she reached over to tickle her son's chest, "and took out some of the cancer so that Daddy can feel better." He giggled as she continued to tickle him, rolling over in the small area. Once she stopped, Scout moved to cuddle into her side, tucking his giraffe in between them.

"When do I see Daddy?"

"Tomorrow, once he's recovered a bit from surgery." She glanced down at him to see him sucking on his thumb, a nervous habit he'd developed, and they'd tried hard to get rid of. "Hey, Daddy's okay," her voice fell to a whisper, and she pulled Scout closer to her body.

"It's scary when Daddy has surgery. I don't like it." Amelia sighed and looked up at the thin sheet creating a make-shift ceiling over them, letting in a bit of light from the kitchen.

"I know, it's scary for all of us, even for Daddy. But, no more surgery for a little while, now he's going to get more medicine." A quiet sniffle filled the space, and Amelia quickly moved her hand to brush through his hair. "Hey, you're feeling really scared?" He nodded his head with tears in his eyes, grabbing his giraffe again.

"I don't want Daddy to die." The mother pouted her lip out, her eyebrows furrowing as her son looked up at her.

"I promise that he's okay right now." She pulled up a blanket from near a wall of the fort and pulled it over them. "How about we sleep in here tonight? Just you and me, and tomorrow we'll go to visit Daddy." He nodded. "I'll be right here when you wake up, don't worry." Amelia stayed awake until she felt her son's breathing settle into a pattern and the familiar light snores coming from his mouth. "Goodnight," she whispered, closing her own eyes and allowing herself to finally relax for the first time that day.

#amelia shepherd #amelink #amelia x link #atticus lincoln #amelink fanfic #amelink fanfiction #grey's anatomy #greys abc #greys fanfic #meredith grey #teddy altman #nico kim #scout lincoln #scout shepherd lincoln #my fics

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sentient-stove · 4 years ago

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Cartilage

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Characters: Virgil, Patton, Remy, Roman, Logan, Emile

Relationships: Roman/Remy/Emile, Familial Analogical, Familial Princxiety

Additional tags: hospitals, human au, autistic virgil, therapist emile, car accidents.

TW: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH

Summary: Roman finds a teen during a traumatic event. He adopts him basically.

Word Count: 2914

Notes: I didn’t kill virgil this time. (I have track record of doing that)

AO3

“Prince, we need a nurse in trauma room one, go!”

Roman looked up and nodded, speed walking to the trauma room, running into an anesthesiologist, who was flipping through a tablet.

“Do you know who’s in there?”

“No, but there was a bad wreck on I-37, father and son are coming in, it should be one of them.” She turned.

Roman nodded and they broke apart, with her heading to the other trauma room and Roman going to wash and put on the sterilized gear. He was getting inside the room right as two paramedics came wheeling in a teen on a stretcher.

“Fractured ribs and possible collapsed lung, he’ll need surgery.” One said and Roman nodded, helping transfer him to the table.

The room was dead silent as nurses and doctors worked, Roman quietly helping as the lung was reinflated and they stitched up a few smaller cuts on his face and chest.

When it was all over, Roman helped transfer him into a room.

“What’s his name?”

“Virgil Alt, fourteen.” The other nurse said as he wrote it down and placed the clipboard in it’s holder at the edge of the bed. “His father died while in surgery.”

Roman looked at the small body, swamped by machines and bandages. “Poor thing.”

“CPS will probably be here once he wakes up…” The nurse trailed off.

…

Two hours earlier

“Dad?”

“Yes Virgil?” “Isn’t it kinda dangerous to be driving in the snow? I mean, we did have a snow day because of it.” Virgil looked up from his seat on the passenger side.

Logan sighed. “We’ve talked over this before. The roads have been cleared now, and I wouldn’t be taking us anywhere if I wasn’t absolutely certain that we would be in danger.”

Virgil nodded and turned the radio on. “Sorry for being nervous.”

“It’s perfectly fine to show concern. It is late at night and there has been an increase in car accidents.”

Virgil hummed and pulled a rubix cube from his hoodie, relaxing as Logan snuck a glance at his son.

“I love you Virgil.”

“I know Dad, you get so sappy at the most random times.” Virgil didn’t look up at his cube and Logan smiled before returning his gaze to the road.

Sure, it was dark and late, but they would be fine.

Unfortunately the semi that hit the patch of black ice would prove otherwise.

...

Roman got home around midnight, quietly creeping to the bedroom that he shared with his husbands, being careful as he got changed out of his scrubs and climbed into bed to join Remy and Emile.

Both were already asleep, thankfully, Roman hated it when they waited up for him and so he threw an arm over Remy and pulled the comforter back over him as his breathing settled.

Poor kid. Roman wished that he could get out the thought, he’d seen plenty of people die during his time as a nurse, but this was his first time with a child losing his family.

Hopefully he had another relative that he would wake up to.

…

Virgil woke up in extreme pain, head feeling fuzzy as he attempted to sit up, only to have a hand at his shoulder, gently pushing him back.

“Hey kiddo. You had a bit of a rough night, so you need to lay back, okay?”

Virgil nodded. “Where am I?” He turned his head to see a cheery looking man with curly hair writing something down.

“Hospital. You got into a bad wreck last night. We had to fix your lungs and give you some stitches.”

Virgil could vaguely remember last night and he blinked slowly. “Where’s my dad?”

The man pursed his lips. “I’m not sure. Probably in a separate recovery room. I’ll have to ask around.”

Virgil nodded and settled back. “Everything hurts.”

“We’ll get you some medicine, okay?”

“Thank you.”

“Just doing my job kiddo. You’ll be back to normal in no time.” The man smiled softly. “I’m Patton.”

“Thank you Patton.”

…

Roman danced around the kitchen, Remy sneaking from his spot on the counter and Emile already sitting at their table, the only one completely ready for the day as he took a drink of his tea.

“I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream!” Roman sang as he approached Remy and tapped him on the nose.

“Ew babes, you know I hate the mushy stuff.”

“That’s not what you said this morning when you were trying to convince Emile to not get out of bed.” Roman teased as he turned back to the stove and flipped the French Toast that he was making.

“It was cold!” Remy complained and Roman gave an easy laugh.

“Sure love.”

Remy stuck out his tongue at him, before moodily picking up his coffee and taking a sip.

“Ro, what shift do you have today?” Emile called.

“Noon to five.” Roman put the French Toast on a plate and handed it to Remy, dipping the next two slices of bread into the egg mixture he had.

“I get off at six, should we do a date night tonight?” Emile looked at the pair and Remy nodded.

“I just have to email a few people and then I’m done with work, so I can do the planning if you guys are okay with that.”

Roman flipped the toast again. “Sounds great.”

…

Patton sighed quietly once Virgil fell back asleep. He didn’t want to be the one to break it to the teen that he was alone in the world now.

Lying to him was wrong, but he didn’t know what else to do. Patton checked the vitals again before leaving the room, nearly running into a fellow nurse, Roman.

“Hey Popstar!” Roman smiled at him as he sidestepped and Patton gave him a weak grin back.

“Hey Ro.”

“Is the kid okay?”

“For now, we still haven’t broken the news to him though… I don’t want to be the one to do it.”

Patton sniffed a bit and Roman held out his arms, welcoming the other into his embrace. “It’ll be alright, he has family to take care of him.”

Patton shook his head. “No he doesn’t. It’s just him and his dad.”

Roman exhaled slowly. “Oh.”

…

Virgil decided that he didn’t like the hospital. No one was telling him where his dad was, most people just gave him sad looks and said that they didn’t know where he was.

So he took it into his own hands after the nurse left him, saying that she’d be back if he needed anything.

He kicked away the tight sheets and winced as the pain in his ribs flared as he moved to stand. Virgil didn’t let that deter him though as he pulled the IV along with him, being careful as he detached everything else like how he’d seen the nurse do when she let him have a bathroom break. Nothing went off, which was good, and Virgil walked unsteadily to the door of his hospital room and pushed it open, the IV rolling next to him.

The hallway was surprisingly empty as the teen wandered down in, looking through the windows of every room as he looked for his father.

“Dad?” Nothing. Virgil took a deep breath as he turned down another hall, bare feet quiet on the cool floor.

He was passing another door when a nurse came out, looking startled. “Hey, what are you doing up little guy?”

Virgil tilted his head to the side. “Looking for my dad, his name’s Logan Alt and people keep telling me he’s here but not where.”

The nurse’s face crumpled. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

…

Roman was finishing up with a patient when a scream rocked the floor that he was on, a horrible, heart wrenching thing that clearly communicated that whoever was the source was in pain.

He rushed out into the hall, looking for the source and seeing that one of his coworkers was trying to hold down a thrashing child as the kid screamed.

Not a child.

Virgil.

He must have found out about his father. Roman hurried over to the other nurse and laid a hand on his shoulder.

“If you keep trying to hold him down, he could collapse a lung again.”

Virgil screamed again as the nurse let go and he curled up into a ball, still sobbing as the screaming died down. Roman reached out a tentative hand to rest on Virgil’s collarbone.

“DON’T TOUCH ME!” Virgil yelled and Roman recoiled, an apology on his lips as he backtracked in his mind.

Virgil shuddered and let out another sob as a few more nurses entered the hall, seeing the three people on the ground. Patton was among them and Roman watched as the teen’s eyes locked onto the nurse.

“You lied to me! You said he was okay!” Virgil struggled to sit up as he pointed. “You said “You’ll be back to normal.” and my dad’s dead now!”

Roman could feel the tension as if it was another person, and Patton’s eyes filled with tears.

“I’m sorry kiddo…”

“STOP! I DON’T LIKE LIARS!!!” Virgil screamed and then the solution to the problem practically slapped Roman in the face.

“Virgil. Look at me.”

The teen let out a shuddering breath and turned his head to Roman, refusing eye contact. Roman reached out his hands, keeping his palms up.

“We’re gonna count to ten, together okay?”

“I don’t want to…”

“Please? We need to make sure that you can breathe. I’ll start. One.”

“Tt..two.” Virgil stuttered out as gasping sobs ran through him. Roman smiled softly.

“Good job. Three.”

“Four.”

Virgil crawled a bit closer, still avoiding eye contact as he took more breaths. “Five.”

“Six.”

Virgil placed his hands on top of Roman’s, looking at the wedding band that the man had on. “Seven.”

“Almost there Virgil. Eight.”

“Nine.”

“And ten.” Roman exhaled and gently wrapped his hands around Virgil’s “Can I help you walk back to your room, I don’t want you to get anymore hurt.”

“Okay…”

Roman helped him stand and then pulled the IV out of his arm carefully. “Do you want me to hold your hand?”

“Yeah… Really tight though, please?”

“Of course.” Roman tightly gripped Virgil’s hand. “Any other touch no’s that we need to know?”

Virgil silently shook his head, and Roman noted that there were still tears streaming down his face as the nurse led him back to his room. He helped him back into the bed and hooked him up.

“Did you get out yourself?”

“Yeah.”

Roman whistled. “Impressive kiddo.”

“Don’t call me that.” Virgil's voice was sharp and Roman nodded. “It’s okay, I’m sorry.”

“Liar called me that, why did he lie to me?” Roman looked up to see that the teen was making eye contact, storm grey eyes filled with misery and hurt.

“I don’t think that Patton meant to hurt you Virgil.”

Virgil hissed and looked away again, starting to cry again. “My dad’s not coming back…”

Roman finished with the replacement IV and reached forward to card a soothing hand through Virgil’s hair. “I’ll make sure that you’re taken care of, promise. I know that your dad can’t come back, but there’s a lot of people here that care about you.”

“Promise?”

“Yes.”

…

Emile and Remy both got calls from their husband that he wouldn’t be able to come home in time for the date and that he had something to discuss with them when he did.

Naturally both were concerned and waited up for Roman to return, which he did around eleven thirty, not surprised to see them both on the couch.

“Hey loves.”

“Is everything okay Ro?” Remy asked as Roman sat down in the beanbag, instead of going to the couch.

“Not really. Bad work stuff.”

“What happened?” Emile said as he leaned forward and offered his husband a tissue.

“There was a bad car wreck yesterday night, father and son got plowed off of the road by a semi… Uh, the father died.”

Remy gasped and Roman sniffed, wiping at his tears. “We were all trying to figure out how to tell him and he didn’t take it well. I’ve never heard such a heartbreaking scream. No relatives and he’s slightly autistic and I promised that I’d make sure he was safe. I can’t break that.” Roman started to cry as Remy and Emile got off the couch, wrapping their husband in a hug as he sobbed.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Remy soothed as he pressed a kiss to Roman’s hairline. “We’ll do anything to help, okay?”

Emile nodded. “If he needs a home, you know that we’ll give him the best one he can get.”

Roman let out a watery laugh. “Seas and stars, I love you two so damn much.”

“I should hope so, you fucking married me.” Remy responded.

…

Virgil hated change.

New house, new people feeding him and new smells hit him all at once when Roman finally said he could leave the hospital.

He didn’t like Patton still, but he promised not to hiss at the nurse when he came in anymore.

Some weird lady had led him out of the hospital, saying that she was part of the government and that Virgil could call her ‘mom’ if he wanted to.

He didn’t.

She had taken him to Dad’s and his house, and he had had an hour to pack all of his stuff.

Someone else would take Dad’s stuff, but Virgil had managed to take Dad’s favorite tie and his book collection with him.

Now he was sitting in the lady’s car as she chattered happily about something that he wasn’t paying attention to.

He wanted Dad. Dad smelled like books and he let Virgil learn about stars and sailor culture, and taught him how to use rubix cubes.

But Dad wasn’t an option anymore. The lady had told Virgil that there was gonna be a funeral on Saturday and then after that, he was going to meet his new family.

Virgil tucked his head against his chest and quietly let himself cry.

... Emile was nervous as he adjusted his tie and sweater again, looking at the door.

“Babes, con calma, they’re not going to be here for at least another ten minutes.”

It was Saturday afternoon and Roman had gotten a call that Virgil would be arriving with a social worker within the hour and so Emile had made sure that everything was as calming as it could be.

The poor kid, having to go to a funeral and then change houses all in the same day.

There was a knock and Emile surged forward, pausing before he could fling the door open.

“Ro, they’re here!”

“Okay! I’m coming down!” Emile opened the door to see the social worker, with Virgil behind her, slouched over as if he was trying to take up as little space as possible.

“Roman?” The social worker grinned and Emile let out a nervous laugh.

“Ah no, that’s my husband. I’m Emile.”

“My apologies. May we come in?”

Emile turned to the side and let them in, smiling softly at Virgil, who pointedly looked away after making eye contact.

“Roman?”

“Nah, I’m Remy, Roman’s other spouse. Take a seat on the couch, Roman will be down in a minute.”

Virgil didn’t sit and Emile sat next to Remy as Roman came downstairs, beaming at Virgil.

“Spiderling!”

Much to the shock of the social worker, Virgil set down his back pack and walked over to Roman, holding up his arms. The nurse picked up the fourteen year old with ease and hugged him tight.

“I missed you.”

“It’s only been five days, seven hours and thirteen minutes.” Virgil said back as Roman put him down, although he still clung close.

The social worker cleared her throat. “You three just need to sign a few papers and then I’ll do monthly check ups to make sure you’re fit to be parents.”

“Thank you.”

…

It wasn’t perfect.

Virgil still held a lot of trauma from what had happened and he had to go to a therapist that wasn’t Emile so that it would be more effective.

But Roman would always admit to crying the first time that Virgil called him Dad. And even though it was mutually agreed that Logan was always going to be Virgil’s real dad and that he wouldn’t have to feel obligated to call any of his adopted parents that, somehow, over the course of the next year, Virgil warmed up to them.

There were always bad times, and they stopped celebrating Christmas, due to the time of year that the accident happened, but they always made it through.

Remy ended up teaching Virgil about latte art, which became a heavy fixation of their son’s, leading to lots of coffees with too much cinnamon when he messed up, or the most glorious cup you had ever seen depending on if it went well.

Emile and Virgil bonded over Saturday morning cartoons and sugary cereal, and he was the first one that Virgil accidentally called Mom.

Emile liked it and so it stuck.

Roman was the one who spent the most time with Virgil and as the teen grew up, he was grateful to have someone that had spent the time to find out everything he could about Logan, making sure that his Dad wasn’t ever forgotten. Roman never broke his promise.

He kept Virgil safe.

#sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides #roman sanders #logan sanders #roman/emile/remy #remy sanders #cartoon therapy emile #virgil sanders #patton sanders #major character death #fanfic

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kazoo5480 · 4 years ago

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Emma wakes with Killian’s alarm, she rolls over, and kisses the underside of his jaw, he twitches, still deeply asleep. “Babe, wake up” she says smiling kissing up his neck. He groans, and rolls into her. “What time is it?” he asks yawning, 7, I have to go, work. See you for lunch?” He opens his eyes finally and takes her in, all sleep rumpled and gorgeous. Sighing “Aye, I’ll be by around 12” and she kisses him too quickly and stands to put on her clothes. “Love you” and runs out his door, and he lays there a minute, still waking up.

He sees the boxes stacked still in the corner and sighs. He pushes himself up, and into the shower, leaving Liam a note on the table, focusing on getting through the day. He grabs his skateboard and his backpack and heads out towards the gashouse and just focuses on moving and Emma, what he said to her last night and her so willingly accepting his words. It made him grin like an idiot, Liam might be leaving and starting his own adventure, but so was he. He still had his own adventure to seek, and school ahead, the fact that he was lucky enough to have Emma by his side was just the best kind of added bonus.

Emma rushes inside and up to her room showering quickly and throwing her uniform on. Her mom stood on the precipice of her bedroom watching the whirlwind of her daughter as she raced around. “Is Killian alright Sunshine?” and Emma stopped and looked at her mom and nodded. “I’m sorry I didn’t expect to need to stay but I took one look at their life being boxed up, and he was so broken up mom. I can see his point of view, this was their first home after leaving their home, losing their mom, and with Liam leaving it is just a lot and he is processing, last night was just a bad night for him is all.” Ruth noticed the ring on her daughters right hand but didn’t say anything, if it were important, she would tell her, she always did.

Emma sat down her head in her hands and her mom sat next to her rubbing over her back, and Emma leaned into her mom. “He is lucky he has you Ems, and he has us, and we will all get through this all together. Maybe you could do something nice, rally the troops to help get his stuff moved, and I’ll even throw in for Pizza. I have Saturday off so I could help in the morning, unpack stuff while the guys do the heavy lofting and all that, see if Liam needs help too” and Emma smiled at her mom “that would be awesome, good idea” and she got up rolling her socks on and threw everything in her work duffle. “I gotta go, but I will see you later Mom” and she kissed her mom as Ruth called out to have a good day behind her.

Ruth sat there, and smiled, she raised really good kids, and though she missed her husband like mad sometimes, but she would wait a little longer to tell them, it was going to change a lot in their lives, and she didn’t want to add more on to their plates. Ruth had been seeing her oncologist weekly for months, treatment options were approaching, and Ruth sighed. Speaking aloud, “I’m not ready to leave them yet honey” she said to no one, and she quickly wiped the tears that began running down her cheeks. What she wasn’t aware of was her son standing in the doorway.

“Planning on going somewhere Ma?” and he looked at her taking in her sadness. Ruth was startled, and she looked at her son and the tears began falling quicker. “Come sit” she patted the spot next to her on Emma’s bed and David sat down, his hurt arm on the opposite side and he wrapped an arm around her waist. “Ma what is it?” he asked gently, and she sighed. “Breast Cancer” and David burst into tears tucking his face into his mother’s neck, hugging her as best as he could, and she held her boy, crying in her arms. “I just told your dad, I am not ready to leave yet, so that’s that” and David laughed a little as he sniffled, his tears still flowing. “How bad is it?” and she sighed, “I have options, chemotherapy, surgery. I chose to start Chemo next week, see how it goes” and David nodded.

“We will do everything mom, just tell me how to keep the family running” and she patted his cheek. “Well, I will need some help around the house, and the therapy makes you really sick, so I have been slowly building an arsenal of stuff I’m going to need, speaking with people in the treatment rooms while they go through it. I wanted to be prepared.” He nodded, “How long have you known?” “Six months. I found a lump and scheduled an appointment right away; we think we caught it early… but I am probably going to lose my hair” she said with a grim smile. David looked at her touching her soft blonde curls, so similar to Emma’s.

“Hair grows back, or we will find you some really amazing wigs, or you can totally rock a bald head” and she laughed and nodded. “The house will be fine, I have our savings, my pension with the hospital, we should be ok” and he nodded once. “Em and I will contribute everything we make to the savings; we should make a plan to tell her, and be ready with a plan, she always wants to see the long picture” and Ruth nodded. “We should make sure you both are on the bank account and the house deed.” David cut her off. “You aren’t going anywhere Ma” and she smiled, “Let’s just have a plan B, it would make me feel better” and he nodded.

“When do we tell Em?” he asked grimly, and she sighed, “I don’t know, but I think we should let Killian and her both get through the weekend, and then we will tell everyone. I have a feeling I am going to need each and every one of my kids to get us through this” and Dave nodded. “I’ll call a Sunday dinner, spread the word through Ruby, we never needed a reason before, so we should do it soon” and Ruth agreed. “I’ll make lasagna, and maybe a cake” and Dave looked at his mom, “It’s going to be ok Mom. I am not going anywhere, and me and Em, we can handle this, helping you. Our friends, they will be here too, you’re just going to have to be ok with people taking over to help you for a while, see how the treatment works, without fighting all of us” and she smiled. “How did I get so lucky to have two great kids?” and he smiled, “Because we have a great mom.” He held his mom a little longer until she got up and said she was going to get ready for work, and he nodded.

He sat there for a while, staring out the window, and begged his dad to leave their mom with them, to not take her too. His heart was shattered, and he couldn’t tell a soul, that was his mom’s personal choice to tell people, and even though it killed him, he wouldn’t tell Emma, they would tell her together. He knew the police academy was the right choice, it would pay good, he could live here with his mom, make sure she was taken care of, Emma had another year of school so she would be around, and lord knows all their friends would band together to keep their matriarch in one piece. He just had to have hope that it would all be ok. He walked to the phone and dialed Red, she picked up immediately. “Hey Rubes, Ma is calling Sunday dinner, everyone, 5 o clock” and she agreed and said she would track everyone down, not even asking why.

He could do this, he could handle this, and Emma was strong like Ruth, they could handle it. As much as he hated to agree, they needed a Plan B, Breast Cancer wasn’t exactly new but when it was your own mother, he decided he should start reading. Since he was off today, he went downstairs, and his mom kissed him goodbye before her shift, and he headed toward the library, asking for every single book, journal, and article they had on Breast Cancer, Astrid the librarian looked at him and nodded with a curious expression but said she would grab what she had, and begin collecting everything over the next few days for him. He thanked her and began reading.

Emma and M were both on the same shift today, and they weren’t crazy busy, so they had some downtime to talk. Emma asked about swapping shifts so that she could be helping Killian Saturday and M agreed of course and said she would help him Sunday too. Zelena came out and tacked up the schedule, waving good morning, and it turns out both Saturday and Sunday Emma had the morning shifts, and would be off by 3, so M didn’t mind at all that she took her Saturday shift if Emma took her following Sunday afternoon shift for her, Emma agreed right away. They chitchatted, and a few cars came in, but by lunch they were starting to get packed. Emma was zipping around on her skates doling out orders for two hours straight, and Killian still hadn’t shown up. Maybe he was busy too she thought.

Ruby called a while later to Rae’s telling M that Ruth was calling for Sunday Dinner, and Dave had called Ruby to round them all up, Emma laughed, eating her grilled cheese as M talked to Ruby, she could have done that, but he was right, Ruby was like a one-woman telephone tree. Emma just assumed her mom wanted Killian to have support since Liam was leaving Friday, and now Elsa too. Emma told M to eat, and she was about to skate out as Killian walked in closer to 1. “Sorry, we were packed, and without Dave it was just me today” and she nodded and kissed him, “Sit, I will be right back” and skated out. Killian parked himself next to M and she was scarfing down her food. “You know no one is going to steal that from you M” and she laughed.

“Sorry, but we just had a huge rush, I am starving, you missed Emma inhaling her food a few minutes ago” and he smiled. “Eat, I am just placing a carry out, and she threw him her pad to write his order on. She got up and skated around the counter throwing it on the counter for the kitchen and tossed her plate into the dish bin. “It will be up in a few” and skated out, her brunette hair blowing out behind her. He shook his head, they worked really hard, and honestly, he was grateful because this obviously contributed to Emma’s outstanding legs. Speaking of which, she skated in and into his arms and he caught her. “Hi” she said, and he kissed her. “Do you want something?” and he told her he had a carry out coming. Emma told him Sunday dinner and he nodded, and “order up” came and Emma skated to grab his bag. “What time are you off again?” she asked, “Looks like later, 530 or so” and she nodded. “See you tonight?” and he nodded, Ill head over after I go home and shower. She nodded, “Love you” and he kissed her hard. “See you tonight” and she smiled as he walked out, food in hand.

David closed the last book and popped a few journals and the legal pad he had taken copious notes on and headed towards the car. He looked at his watch, both Emma and his mom would be home soon, so he wanted to make sure dinner was ready and, on the table, when they both got in. Tonight, was going to be rough on them all, and he decided to swing by the gashouse on his way home. Spotting Killian, he waved with his good hand, “Hey, shouldn’t you be resting?” Jones said to him and he nodded, “I am. I need you to come to our house tonight, I know you are busy, but actually Liam and Elsa should come too for dinner.

Killian nodded, “Ill track Liam down, what’s up? Em said Sunday dinner, but tonight?” And David sighed, “Can you make dinner? Or be there after dinner?” Killian looked nervous, “Dave” and put a hand on his good shoulder, and Dave shook his head. “Tonight?” And Killian nodded, “Emma?” “Is going to need you. But I gotta go” and he booked it out of there leaving a confused and very worried Killian in his wake. Killian lifted the phone dialing the docks, and got Liam to agree to dinner, said he would meet him there at 6, Elsa was working though, and Killian couldn’t tell him why because he honestly didn’t know, and by Emma’s demeanor today he would bet that she didn’t either.

After his shift he rushed home, and showered, changing, and throwing in clothes for good measure in case, and skated towards the Nolan’s like a fire was under his ass. Ruth walked in to find her son tossing a salad, and stir fry going on the stove. “Someone has been busy” she said to her son, as she looked over his notepad, and he snatched it out her hands. “I did some reading, wanted to be prepared” and Ruth hugged her son. “We are telling Emma tonight, I asked Killian and Liam to come over, no one else. But Emma is going to need the support, and with Liam leaving he has a right to know” and Ruth looked sad. “I didn’t want those boys to worry” and Dave nodded, but said “Ems going to need Killian just as much as I need M and you need all of us. We are a family, and I didn’t know if you wanted M to know or not yet, so I haven’t said a word to her, and didn’t ask her to come tonight.” Ruth nodded, “You should call her, I don’t want you keeping my secret from her” and he walked to the phone calling.

Ruth headed into her bedroom and changed into a floral sundress that she loved and combed her long hair back. She needed to be strong for her kids, for herself. She knew David was right, they needed to involve those closest to them first, and she headed into the kitchen to help her son with dinner, since they were expecting more people now. Dave banished her to the porch swing, and she hated being bossed around but she had to let her son come to terms with this, and if bossing people around and making her sit and read was punishment, she would be a glutton for it. Emma’s yellow bus rolled in and she hopped out, M with her, hearing her in the kitchen, and heard her daughters footsteps up the stairs. M and Dave came out to sit with her, and Emma came down a few moments later, her long blonde curls drying and a smile on her face. “Dave said dinner tonight, and Sunday. What’s going on?”

She watched her mom school her features, Emma did the same thing when she was upset or had a secret. Killian rolled up on his skateboard, and Emma was surprised but not, Killian looked nervous as he approached their porch and sat on an empty seat. M moved to an empty chair beside him, and Emma moved to the swing with her mom and Dave. Dave nodded at Ruth, and Emma’s mom clasped her hand and Dave’s good one.

“We asked you here because we have something to tell you, and because you two are the most important people in their lives, it’s going to take us all as a family to get through this, together” Ruth said swallowing. Dave produced a box of tissue from somewhere and handed one to his mom. “Mommy?” Emma said, and Ruth patted Emma’s cheek. “I’m sick Sunshine, Breast Cancer” and looked grim. Emma gasped, her lip trembled, and tears began to pour. She hugged her mom tightly, Killian and M held hands and they watched the three hold each other and cry, Killian now understanding why Dave wouldn’t tell him, it wasn’t his news to share.

Killian knelt in front of the three of them, pulling M with him and he rubbed Emma’s leg in reassurance, but she didn’t take her eyes off her mom. “Whatever you need, I’ll help” Killian said, and Ruth smiled at him. “Tell me everything” Emma said, and Ruth did, telling them all, and Dave chimed in with what he found at the library. M and Killian excused themselves to allow them privacy for a moment, and to go get dinner off the stove, and wrapped each other in a tight hug. “Ruth is tough, she will be ok” M said to Killian and he nodded, “it won’t be like it was with your mom Jones, if they caught it early enough…” and he gripped his friend tighter nodding. “Help me get this on the table” and he followed the small brunette around, lost in his thoughts.

Emma was reeling, “How long did you know” she nailed Dave with a glare. “Just this morning sunshine, don’t be mad at your brother, he caught me in a weak moment right after you left, and I just spilled it” she laughed lightly. “It isn’t funny” Emma said to her mom, and her mom wiped the tear tracks off her daughters cheeks. “I am going to be ok, treatment and maybe a surgery, but like I told your brother, I told dad this morning I wasn’t leaving and that’s that” and Emma nodded wanting to be alone. She got up off the porch, and walked around to the bus, grabbing her spare key, and backed out of the driveway and pulled out, her mom and brother looking confused, but she saw her mom pull Dave down as he tried to stand. “Emma” he yelled, and she took off, heading toward the beach.

Killian heard them call Emma’s name and saw the bus gone. He ran to the front steps, “Where did she go?” and Ruth sighed, “the place she always goes when she needs to be alone” and stood patting his cheek. “Come on, let’s get supper on the table, and start eating, is Liam coming?” and Killian nodded. “I should…” and Ruth looked at him, “Let her be, if she isn’t back before dark, you can go get her, drag her back. I expected this, Emma is like the wind, temperamental and strong, I knew she would need a moment to process it, and I am not going to deny her that and neither are any of you” and he nodded in understanding, wanting to support his love and hold her like she held him. He also knew when Emma took off, she needed it and meant it. Liam showed up a few moments later, and as they ate, Ruth told Liam who immediately knelt at her side crushing her in a hug. It was a very emotional dinner, and his thoughts were entirely on Emma as he sat there with her family processing this monumental news and wishing he could take her pain away and looking at her mother, their surrogate mother and wanting to take her illness away.

Emma threw her suit on, and grabbed her board, stalking down the pier, dropping her stuff in a pile and went into the water. The sun was orange and pink, and purples, the waves calm as she laid on her board looking at the sky, sobbing. She was furious at god, or whoever was out there for doing this, they had already lost their dad, and what if her mom didn’t come out of this. God, the tears rolled down her face and she just let her heart crack wide open, and the tears fall into the ocean as it rolled over her skin. She sat up and paddled, having drifted and the sky was getting darker. She went to the shore, and saw Killian sitting, her stuff in his lap. He handed her the towel as she dropped her board and she crawled into his lap and he held her as she cried softly, soothing her, and smoothing her hair until she had let it all out. “Come on angel, let’s get you home” and he grabbed her stuff and led her to the bus driving her back home.

Ruth was on the porch reading, Dave and M in the house watching TV. Liam had hugged her goodbye after dinner, and promised to stop by before he left, and Killian had finally run off to the beach to drag Emma home. It was full dark now and she saw the bus pull in and park at the end of the driveway. Emma hopped out, her wet bathing suit, her eyes red, and Killian kissed her forehead sending her up the front walk while he moved the bus into the backyard. Emma looked up at her mom and came to sit next to her, Ruth holding her tightly and kissing her hair. “I’m sorry” Emma said quietly, and Ruth shushed her. “I know you sunshine, you needed time.” Emma hugged her mom fiercely, “do you think it will work?” and Ruth nodded against her daughters head, “I really do sunshine, I really do. But I am tired, and I am sure you are too. Let’s head in, ok?”

Emma nodded and helped her mom up, and Dave got up and crushed Emma to his good side, “You can’t just leave in the dark, no more. No surfing after sundown Em” and she looked up at him and nodded. “I can’t be worried about you out there, and her here. I need you to be here Em, I need you.” Emma kissed his cheek and noticed Killian, Dave looked at him “When I am not here, she is your responsibility.” “I’m not a child Dave! Killian has his own life, same as you and M, and Liam. All of us. I can take care of myself, but I said I wouldn’t go after dark anymore” she said petulantly. Dave softened, and looked at Killian and Emma, “Well if you’re at the beach after dark, it’s never alone. If I am not there, he is” and Killian nods “I got it Dave” and he grabbed Emma’s hand and led her up to her room. He could feel the emotion rolling off of Emma in waves, she needed grounding and he walked up to her and grabbed her hand rubbing the ring. “I’m your anchor too Em. Let me be, let me in” and she nodded, and he hugged her tightly.

Emma went to the shower and rinsed off. She didn’t bother with clothes and Killian wasn’t surprised when she crawled into bed and curled herself around him. She needed him, just as he did the night before from her, so he rolled her and slid his boxers off. He quietly made love to Emma, silencing her moans with his mouth, and kissed her tears away until they were spent. “Ems, nightgown” he said into her hair and she grabbed it off the end of her bed and pulled it on, and he pulled on his boxers and tee shirt. Emma laid her head on his chest and fell asleep. Killian laid there a while, the crickets out her window, the wind blowing in and thought back to what Ruth said, when she offered for him to be here. Maybe now he should be, for Ruth, for Emma, for Dave. He would talk to Ruth tomorrow, and drifted off to sleep.

He crept out of Emma’s bed, her still sound asleep and put on his clothes, making a pot of coffee. Ruth came in a few minutes later, not surprised to see him. “Morning” she said, and Killian handed her a cup, and she smiled. “You knew the day of the competition, when you said no matter what that I am allowed here whenever I wanted, night, day, if I chose to be, and that you were ok with it. You meant this, didn’t you Ruth?” and she looked at him quietly, and nodded. “I thought maybe you being here would help me, it would help you avoid renting a place, and I am sick. Dave and Em can’t do it all on their own all the time, but I wanted you to know you could be here as much as you wanted honey. Losing your mom, I thought you might want to be here more for Em and Dave, me too.”

He nodded, “I do, but living with you guys is one thing, I moved closer, so I am around the corner, but into your home might be a little much for now. But I will be here every day, we can schedule your treatments around our work and school schedules, so that one of us is always here with you in the house. I assume that’s what the family dinner Sunday is for? To tell the whole tribe?” and she nods and smiles. “I have an army of kids, I figured Dave was right and letting them help as much as they can or want to.” Killian smiles at her, “It’s going to be ok Ruth, I just have a feeling.”

“Is it the same kind of feeling that you had when you put that ring on my daughter?” She cocks her head to side smiling. He blushes, “It wasn’t a proposal Ruth, god I would never do that without asking you or Dave, both of you. I made a promise to Emma is all, a promise to be here as long as she wants me to be.” Ruth nods, “okay. No proposals until college, alright? And no grandbabies either until she is done with nursing school” and Killian pales, letting out a shaky laugh. “Understood.” Ruth stands, “I am heading to work, so I will see you guys later, let the kids know I’ll be home around 4” and she kissed his hair and headed towards her room.

Killian finished his coffee and went to wake Emma, knowing she had to work but Dave headed him off at the steps. “Morning” Killian said, and Dave eyed him. “Sleeping over again Jones?” He nodded, I could lie and say it won’t be a regular thing, but your mom asked me to be here more, for Em, for you, for her. So, is that going to be a problem?” Dave looked at him and shook his head. “Just make sure you have clothes on, alright?” and Killian laughed and nodded. “I am heading to work, was going to wake Emma up before I head home” and Dave nodded. “See you later roomie” Killian taunted and laughed while Dave glared at him. “Still my sister man” and Killian ignored him still laughing.

He ran his fingers up Emma’s spine, her curls dried in a wild blonde tangle, and she looked so peaceful. “Em” he said kissing her cheek, and she stirred. “Hmmmm” “I’ve got to get to work, I’ll see you later love” and she peeked her eyes open and puckered her lips, and he kissed her soundly. “love you” she said sleepily, and he agreed. “Bye” and he grabbed his backpack heading home. Liam and Elsa were drinking coffee when he walked in, and Liam greeted him, Elsa coming to hug him.

“How are you, are the Nolan’s ok?” and he nodded. “As well as can be expected” he said leaning against the counter. “I am glad she told me” Liam said quietly. “I wouldn’t have been able to forgive myself if we left and got a call, I wish I could stay to help her, return the kindness she has shown us since the day she met us” he said looking down at his hands. Killian came and clapped his hands on his brothers shoulders and kissed his head. “I’ll be doing that; you just focus on staying in one piece for us. But I have to get to work, dinner tonight, packing?” And Liam nodded. I’ll be home around 4, so I’ll just be boxing here, maybe I can help you take a few things to your new place, you have the keys, right?” and Killian nodded. “Alright, I will see you later. Bye Elsa” and he went to shower quickly and head off to work.

@captainswanouat @captainswoon @captain-swan-coffee @ao3feed-cs @kmomof4 @onceuponadaily @itsfabianadocarmo @lieutenantswan @kymbersmith-90 @killiansprincss @mrs-emma-swan-jones @hollyethecurious

@stahlop @hookedonkillianforlife87 @holdingoutforapiratehero

@jrob64 @teamhook @purplehawkcaptain @sals86 @killiancomeback2me @killiansprincss @karlyfr13s @myfearless-love @resident-of-storybrooke

@thesschesthair @the-captains-ayebrows @jonesfandomfanatic @laschatzi @tiganasummertree @donteattheappleshook @purplehawkcaptain

#emma swan #once upon a time #killian jones #ouat au

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ofnoras · 5 years ago

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『 candice patton. twenty-nine. cis woman. she/her. 』 oh heavens, is that NORA BARLOW from FAIR LANE i see roaming around mapleview ? minnie may’s always calling them -CIRCUMSPECT & -OBSTINATE. i happen to think they’re not that bad ! they’re a pretty cool PET STORE OWNER and every time i’ve seen them, they’ve always been +PROTECTIVE & +AMIABLE. i hope i see them around again !

hello friends ! my name is elle and i’m super excited to be here !! i’ve been eyeing this rp for a while with bones of an idea and once i saw thia’s connection after my zoom class today, i began to piece the puzzle together ! there’s still more i wish to explore about nora’s backstory and personality, but for right now, this is what i’ve got !

BASICS.

full name: nora june barlow.

birth date: april 10th.

zodiac: taurus.

age: twenty nine.

gender: cis woman.

pronouns: she/her.

sexual/romantic orientation: heterosexual.

current residence: fair lane, mapleview, north carolina.

living conditions: with boyfriend, adrien ryerson.

occupation: owner of pet store, happy tails.

languages spoken: english.

BACKGROUND.

birth place: york, pennsylvania.

education level: college graduate with a bachelors in business administration.

father: franklin barlow.

mother: marian barlow, deceased.

siblings: older brother and younger sister.

birth order: middle child.

children: one on the way !

relationship status: engaged to adrien ryerson.

pets: three year old tortoiseshell cat named lady.

PHYSICAL.

faceclaim: candice patton.

eye color: brown.

hair color: brunette.

glasses/contacts?: wears reading glasses.

dominant hand: left.

height: 5′6″

build: slim.

tattoos: none.

piercings: both ears pierced ( previous belly button ring that closed up ).

allergies: peanuts.

EXTRA.

+ traits: protective, amiable, optimistic ( tries to be, at least ).

- traits: circumspect, obstinate, impatient.

hobbies: knitting, reading, driving aimlessly around town with the radio blasting.

likes: cold weather, animals, pastel colors, making friends.

dislikes: being alone, talking too much about herself, a messy room.

alignment: neutral good.

BIOGRAPHY.

was born on april 10th, 1991 to franklin and marian barlow, their second child and first daughter. grew up in york, pennsylvania until she was eleven and her parents decided to move to mapleview due to being closer to other relatives. though she now lives on fair lane, she used to live on sycamore way up until she moved out. her father was a dentist and her mother a teacher, two paths she never wanted to follow, despite their encouragement. as a family, they were never incredibly close -- her father had quite the temper and three years after moving to mapleview, her mother had an affair. it was the talk of the town and nora, nor her siblings, could escape the gossip. her parents soon divorced and life was never the same after that.

more than anything, nora and her siblings fought. the divorce split them onto sides and their clashing personalities never had peace between them for too long. her brother was too much like her father and her sister never had a nice thing to say. still, when it came to others, nora protected them fiercely and when push came to shove, she always had their back, even if the feeling wasn’t mutual.

as a child, in an environment that made it seem like there was a side to choose, nora chose her father. it was good that she had, as she and her siblings spent their weekdays with him in his two bedroom apartment. the constant bickering and fighting grew worse as they got older, many arguments turning physical or ending up with something broken. nora always tried to be the mediator, but nothing could ever calm anyone down once they’d been riled up. instead, she filled her high school years with clubs and as many friends as she could, keeping herself out of the apartment, always busy.

nora was sixteen when her mother passed away. tragic car accident. the two hadn’t spoken in nearly a year and at first, nora was numb. she was grateful for it, especially when the guilt came next and it never left. her siblings hated how emotionless she was with their mother’s passing, at the funeral, in the days after. it wasn’t that she hadn’t cared, but that everything hit her a week later, once she was alone in her bedroom. there are many reasons nora hates being alone with her thoughts, but her mother’s death was the start of that. it’s also one of the contributors to why she prefers to keep busy.

she distanced herself from her siblings and her father, never quite being as open with them as she once was. nora took a part time job at her dad’s office, working there for a few years until she graduated. with the inheritance from her mother and scholarships, nora was able to leave mapleview for college. she wanted a fresh start and in her mind, she never planned to return to mapleview. nora went to college out west and majored in business administration with the hopes of starting her own business in... whatever made her happy. meanwhile her father’s business closed and he was forced to retire.

after graduating, she planned to follow where business opportunities would take her. all that crumbled when she got a phone call that her father was in the hospital. he’d had a heart attack and nora was terrified that if she lost her dad, the overwhelming guilt she’d felt with her mother would come back. out of her own selfish reasons, she returned to mapleview. her father recovered with surgery, but was never quite the same. his health was declining and doctors were able to determine he had early onset alzheimer's. nora made it her responsibility to come home and take care of her dad, getting a job at the local pet shop while she did. the money she’d been saving up went to a day nurse for her father. he was family, after all.

years passed. when she was twenty four, she met adrien. his charming personality was evident from their first conversation and while it didn’t take much for nora to be smitten with him, she definitely made him work for it. soon after, they started dating, and they’ve been together ever since. with adrien’s job and the both of them being focused on their careers, a future was something far off in the distance. marriage, kids... they’d briefly spoken about it, but left the conversation for down the road. it was never a question that she wanted to be with adrien, but the idea of a family scared her. she wasn’t sure if she’d be a good mom and the unknown was something she didn’t know she could come to terms with. that was, until she got really sick one morning and decided to take a pregnancy test. the positive terrified her at first, knowing they had wanted to wait and that there was no way they were ready... but seeing adrien’s response and thinking about the future definitely got her excited. now her pinterest is full of “nursery ideas” and “first time mom tips”.

it was a year after she met adrien that she became the owner of her own pet store. the place was local, owned by an elderly woman that treated nora like the loving mother she’d always wanted. they both bonded over the years and when she decided she’d be retiring to florida with her husband, she wanted nora to have the business. even as assistant manager, nora couldn’t possibly accept... but then the deed was being put in her name and she jumped at the opportunity. a local place that sells pet supplies and occasionally takes in surrendered pets to care for/find loving homes for.

and that all brings us up to present time ! nora has been pregnant nearly a month at this point, owns and works in her own pet store ( which will have a name soon enough ), and just really loves being back in mapleview. she missed it, she really did. she’s excited for this new path and what the future will bring her for the first time in... well, for the first time ever, really.

POSSIBLE CONNECTIONS.

old family friends/neighbors from when she lived on sycamore way.

cousins/relatives that her family originally moved to town for.

perhaps bad tension with the family of the man her mother had an affair with?

exes/childhood friends that drifted apart/competition rivals in school.

someone who has been best friends with nora since she first moved to mapleview.

moms who nora has been bothering about future mom stuff/pregnancy stuff.

frequent customers of her store/people who had adopted animals that keep nora updated ( please, she always Begs for this when people adopt out ).

i’m honestly down for anything !!

if u read all of that ... phew ... idk why u did but THANK U ! i know it’s long ... i’m sorry ... but if you like this, i’ll message you to plot ! i do have discord so if you’d prefer that, let me know, i just don’t have it up right now so i’ll need to know if you wanna switch to that !

#mapleviewintro #abuse tw #death tw #pinned post !

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dashesofink · 6 years ago

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To Forget

Drabble: “ I need some major angst. Kingsman drabble or fic, whichever you think would better-- Being Eggsy's best friend and Merlin's daughter and comforting Eggsy as they die in his arms. If you don't do death, then amnesia please. I just want the angst to rip my heart out. “

Pairings: Eggsy Unwin x Reader

Word Count: 1613

Warnings: mentions of blood, head injuries, amnesia, major angst (or as angsty as I could make it)

Main Taglist: @legolaslovely @c4ts4ndstuff @t00-many-th0ughts @fizzyxcustard @anilynsworld

Panic shot through Eggsy like a bullet when he saw your body slam to the ground. He didn’t have enough time at all to rush to you, to hold you and make sure that you were okay. You stumbled to your feet, gripping your head as you tried to fight off another guard. No blood was seen at first. He kept his focus on getting the mission done, his weapons aimed at the enemy as he took them out one by one. His heart was hammering in his chest, blood rushing in his ears as he pushed further out of the compound and out into a dense forest. The gunfire blocked his ears from your pained screams. It took longer than expected, but you guys had extracted the information you were after, and soon everyone was fighting to get to your get away plane.

Eggsy was on the plane last, his chest heaving for air as he stumbled into his seat. A triumphant smile pulled up his lips, his teeth poking through as he waved around a small USB drive in the air. “Target acquired, Merlin— Merlin?” The man in question paid no mind to Eggsy as he gloated, alarm having already flooded his system as he pushed through the other team members and to the back of the plane. Eggsy stood to his feet in confusion, his eyebrows knitting as he followed after Merlin. Merlin had never once acted this way, so scared and fearful. The closer he got to the back of the plane the more anticipation filled his body. “Merlin, what’s going—“

Eggsy felt his world freeze when he finally laid eyes on your body. You seemed lifeless, your skin a stark white while your eyes remained closed. A deep, jagged cut was laid heavily against your head, starting at your hairline and cutting through your right eyebrow only to end by your ear. Blood stained the hands of those working to keep your body stable and the uniform you had on, your face dripping and hair matted down from the warm sticky substance. Eggsy felt as if he couldn’t breath. Merlin was gripping your hand tightly, the usual stoic man now shaking as he held your fingers to his lips.

“No no, no y/n,” He cried quietly, his free hand moving to brush away your bloody and matted hair. “Not my daughter!” Eggsy’s feet were glued to the plane floor, his knees instead colliding with the floor painfully as his body suddenly flooded with horror. He knew he should’ve gone back to check on you, to make sure that you weren’t hurt and help you as you got to your feet. He stupidly believed that you had just tripped. A rookie mistake. Tears clouded his vision, his hands growing shakier as his world slowly crumbled around him. Others around him worked quickly to ease the bleeding on your head, but everyone knew they wouldn’t be able to make any real progress until they reached the base again.

The ride back to the base seemed to go by in a blur. One minute Eggsy was on the plane, watching helplessly as your body shut down from trauma and blood loss, and the next he’s waiting outside of your room, face hidden in his hands. Guilt ate away at his heart as he waited. Tears were still fresh against his burning skin as he ran his hands over his face. The assessment for your injury was quick and easy, but you needed surgery. The cut to your head was deep, too deep for his liking. The trauma to your head had caused your brain to swell, so you were rushed quickly into surgery to try and ease the pressure on your brain and skull. Everyone was miserable. Merlin couldn’t stop pacing, his long fingers brushing over his head in anticipation. Eggsy felt like he couldn’t breath, his face red and eyes puffy from crying. God, why didn’t he just go back and help you?

The surgery went well, or at least that’s all that they told him. Merlin was the only one allowed to see you at first, seeing as he was your father. You were placed under a medically induced coma so that your body would be able to heal, giving your brain time to shrink to its normal size before you went to moving again. Eggsy thought he would go crazy from waiting to see you, to hold you again and to apologize for his mistake in not going to you in the field. It was months before he was finally able to see you, but not without Merlin in the room.

You were finally awake, a thick bandage wrapped around your forehead. Your skin had regained its color, your lips a bright pink as you smiled at your father. You remembered how disoriented you were when you first woke up, but your father was there to reassure you. His voice was gently as he explained what had happened, his fingers gripping your much smaller hand in his. Merlin was over the moon that you were going to be alright. The doctors had explained that amnesia was likely to occur due to the severity of your head injury, but so far everything seemed great. You remembered him, you remembered being apart of Kingsman. Merlin was happy.

When Eggsy heard the good news he was ecstatic. He was waiting anxiously by your door, his fingers dusting over his freshly ironed shirt. He was desperate to apologize, to explain why he did what he did and not help you instead. Guilt and remorse had been building up in Eggsy ever since he first saw you, and now that he had a chance to apologize, he was going to do so. It wasn’t long until Merlin opened the door for him, a bright smile on the previously depressed man’s face now that his daughter was in the clear. Eggsy sucked in a nervous breath as he stepped into the room, his eyes landing on your figure.

A smile spread on his face as he saw your eyes, as bright and curious as he remembered them. “Oh thank god.” Eggsy felt relief flood his system before he stepped forward, his hands reaching out to grab one of your own as he went to your bedside. “I can’t tell you how worried I’ve—“

Merlin and Eggsy froze when you suddenly yanked your hand out of Eggsy’s grasp, a look of confusion forming on your features as you looked him over. Eggsy now felt confused as your lips pursed together, a sneer seeming to find its way on your face as you shied away from him. “Dad,” Your eyes strayed away from Eggsy was you looked to Merlin, him taking a step closer to you when your eyebrows knitted in confusion. You looked back to Eggsy once more, trying to rack your brain for information on the man. But you couldn’t. “Who is he?”

Just as it had been on the plane, Eggsy’s world suddenly froze at your words. You had to be joking, right? Merlin felt his heart jolt at your question, and he thought back to what the doctors had said about your possible amnesia. His hand was resting upon your shoulder as he looked between you and Eggsy, worry building in his stomach. Pain contorted Eggsy’s face, his fingers beginning to shake once more as he slowly reached for you again. “Y/n, d-darling, what do you mean?” His voice shook with panic, his eyes swelling with tears when you flinched away from his touch again. “It’s me, baby, it’s Eggsy.”

You kept your eyes on him for a moment longer, the anxiety in Eggsy’s heart ceasing for a moment when he saw your lips twitch. A tick you had whenever you had a secret to hide. Did you remember him? When you finally tore your gaze away from him you looked up to your father again, your eyebrows still knitting in confusion as you lips turned down into a frown. “I don’t know who he is, dad.”

Eggsy wanted to throw up. Your words echoed in his brain as they tore a new hole in his pained heart. You couldn’t have forgotten him, it wasn’t possible. You couldn’t have forgotten your first date, or all of the times you had to hide your relationship from Merlin. How could you forget the pathetic excuse of a letter he wrote to you one day in an attempt to win your heart. He felt a coldness run over his body, tears now flowing heavily down his cheeks as he looked to his hands. The gold band around his finger felt cold and heavy, staring up at him with malice. How could you forget him, your husband, and how he tripped over his words when proposing to you?

You didn’t know why the man in front of you seemed so pained by your words. You didn’t even know him. His face was scrunched up, eyes bloodshot as tears rolled down his flushed cheeks. Eggsy’s heart was heavy and his mind was clouded. Nothing could’ve prepared him for this. Eggsy still had a sliver of hope residing in his heart, the back of his hand dabbing away his tears before he slowly reached for your hand again. You didn’t pull away this time. Instead you watched his fingers curl around your hand, and for a second Eggsy was sure he saw a spark of recognition flash through your face, but the wind was knocked out of him when you spoke again, anguish flooding his nerves.

“I’m sorry, but I really don’t know who you are.”

#kingsman #eggsy unwin #eggsy unwin x reader #eggsy unwin fic #eggsy unwin angst #eggsy unwin imagine #eggsy unwin scenario #eggsy x reader #kingsman angst #kingsman scenario #kingsman imagine #kingsman fic #not my gif #requested #taron egerton #dashesofink

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asparrowandaswann · 5 years ago

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C2: RETURN TO SHIPWRECK COVE. PART 3#

The room was small and bare, with a bed which she could tell from a glance creaked terribly. A chest of drawers, empty. A chair with a woven seat stood against the wall. A small table sat in the corner, an old pot of ink, but no papers, no quill. An inch-thick layer of dust covered everything, as Teague had warned. No one had entered this room for quite some time. She could find nothing personal. Nothing which could tell her about Jack, from when he was simply Jackie. Jackie Teague. The boy before the legend. A pang of disappointment gripped her stomach. She had hoped to know him better. Something of his childhood which he would never have told her himself.

Nevertheless, the room smelled of him. As though he had just left the room. Something spiced, a vague hint of sandalwood, and... sweat. Quite overpoweringly of sweat, in fact, considering he hadn't set foot in the room for Lord knows how long. And there was something else... something...

Elizabeth moved towards the bed, the bedding seeming to be the source of the smell, as, where else could his scent be coming from? She pulled back the covers gingerly, and gasped, leaping back. Blood. Dark, old, blackened blood. With a brave sweep, she pulled away the thin blankets entirely. The bed was soaked through. Or had been, some time ago.

Just then, there was a knock at the door.

"Yes?" Her voice broke. She couldn't take her eyes off the blood, wondering whose it was, and hoping to God that it wasn't Jack's.

The door inched open with a creak, and when she turned, she saw a little man, grey and slightly bowed, backing into the room, carrying a stack of linens in his arms as he pushed the door open with his shoulder.

"'ere y'are, yer Kingly-ness." His voice was smooth and grandfatherly, and as he turned, kind blue eyes caught her worried gaze, following it to the bed. The man shook his head sadly. "Aye, t'was a bad time, that."

"What happened here?"

The man placed the bedding down on the wicker chair, taking a moment first to wipe away the best of the dust with a rather soiled handkerchief.

"I've been 'ere since Jackie were a wee lad." He explained, stripping the bloodstained bedding away as he did so. "I was born int' piratin', but truth be told, never been much good a' sea. Much prefer land, so I found myself 'ere, amongst me own, withou' 'avin' t' do much wot pirates be doin'. The lad weren' like tha', though. It surprised no one when 'e ran off t' the sea the momen' 'e turned four'een, withou' so much as a 'bye, pops' to ol' Teague. 'E'd come back now and then, though... always sportin' an injury which needed seein' t'."

Elizabeth's eyes widened. So it was Jack's blood.

"Aye, Miss." The man said, seeing her worry. "There were one particular night... nigh ten years ago or so, now. The boy came stumblin' back, 'avin' sailed 'ere in a little scrap of a boat, with a man named Gibbs. 'Is only crew a' the time, though if you'd seen this boat of 'is, 'e were in no need of a crew. It were small enough to be manned alone. No, 'e'd lost 'is ship, the Pearl, quite recently, in fact, and was still cut up about it. Loves that ship like a mistress, 'e does. So, Gibbs practically carried 'im up 'ere, up the hill, screamin' the whole way for a doc'or. Obviously, place like this, we 'ave one, an' we give 'm enough business to keep 'im 'ere. Doc'or Grove, is 'is name. 'E saw to the lad. 'E'd been shot, twice." The man patted his chest, just over his heart. "T'was a near miss. A few inches further south an'... Well, Teague were furious with 'im. The lad 'ad 'ad a pistol, after all, but 'e'd refused to use it. 'That bullet weren' mean' fer 'im, Dad', 'e kept sayin'. Never seen old Teague so mad, I ain'." Taking the straw mattress, which was also stained straight through, he carried it out into the hallway, returning moments later with a replacement. "This were pillaged just a week ago from a fine Spanish galleon. Should be more fittin' for a King." It was too large for the small bed frame, hanging limply onto the floor, but Elizabeth was grateful all the same.

"I've seen Jack's scars." Elizabeth confessed, thinking back to their time on the island, having been mutinied by Barbossa. She thought of the dark cloud which had crossed Jack's gaze as he had drawn back his sleeves. "How on Earth did he survive?"

The man glanced towards the skies. "Miracle, I reckon. That lad's seen 'is fair share. Someone's smilin' down at 'im, scoundrel though 'e is. 'E must 'ave charmed an angel in a prior life, I reckon. Nah, 'e pulled through by the skin of 'is teeth. I s'pose no one thought to change the beddin'. 'e only ever comes by with some injury or other, when this is the closest friendly bit of land with a doc'or. Whatever 'e lies on would only get soiled again anyway." He busied himself, tucking fine sheets - no doubt taken also from a fine galleon - as best he could under the oversized mattress, and fluffing a fresh goose pillow.

"And that was the last time? That Jack was here?"

"Aye." He brushed his hands together as he stood back to admire his work. "Though..." His face froze, and he half-turned, smiling at Elizabeth with a glint in his cornflower-blue eyes. "Now I come to think of it, there were one other time since. Quite recen'ly, in fact. Couple years back. 'E'd just gotten 'is Pearl back, I believe, an' it were once again ol' Gibbs who brought Jack 'ere, the lad staggerin' an' shoutin' that 'e didn' need no doc'or, 'e just needed 'is Pearl, but Gibbs knew best, as always."

Elizabeth's eyes widened. That must have happened since they had met, after she had watched him from the battlements of Port Royal, sailing into the distance. "What happened?"

"Fever. 'E'd caught summit nasty from some tribe, an' it were burnin' through him. Delirious, 'e were. Rantin' an' ravin' one minute, weepin' into the pillow, the next." He was eying Elizabeth curiously now, watching her. She shifted uncomfortably. "After all 'e'd survived before, no one doubted for a moment that 'e wouldn't pull through. A legend like 'e's carved out for 'imself, 'e could 'ardly go down to a fever, now, could 'e? But it were a nasty sickness, all the same. I remember one evenin', the night before the fever broke, I came in carryin' a tray of broth, to try an' get summit into 'im, an' there were no one else there at the time but the doc'or. The lad were sleepin', so it seemed, but 'e were mutterin' t' 'imself, nonsense, as always, an' neither the doc'or nor I paid it much mind, until..." He stepped closer to Elizabeth now, his voice dropping to a mere whisper. "'E started speakin' a name."

A coil tightened in Elizabeth's gut. "A name?"

"Aye. Name of a woman. Chantin' it, quiet, like, under 'is breath. Now, it caught my attention because I know the lad not to be the settlin' sort. 'E's 'ad 'is flirtations, sure, but no one 'as ever truly caught 'is eye, to my knowledge. The doc'or noticed too, an' asked me if I recognised the name. I said I didn'. 'E stopped as soon as 'e started, an' 'e woke the next mornin', past the worst of it."

Elizabeth licked her lips, her mouth suddenly dry. She wasn't sure if she wanted to know. Obviously Jack had had his fair share of women, but to think that one would leave her mark enough for him to speak her name during his delusions. But of course, her curiosity was too great.

"What was the name?"

The man smirked. "Lizabeth."

Her face burned, and for a moment she lost herself, her mouth gaping with shock. He had spoken her name. They had parted ways, and yet he had chanted her name, calling for her, perhaps dreaming of her under the heavy sleep of fever. What could that mean, besides...?

Pulling her lips into a pout of indignation, she stepped back sharply. "Common enough name. No doubt the whorehouses of Tortuga are teaming with Elizabeths and Lizzys and Elizas and... I'd thank you not to look at me that way." She snapped at his knowing gaze. "And to keep any gossiping thoughts to yourself."

The man mimicked drawing a line across his lips in an oath of silence. "Believe me, Miss, with all that goes on 'ere, that would be one of the more mundane tidbits, anyway."

Still not convinced, she asked warily. "What is your name?"

"Perkins, Miss." He didn't bow, as the gentlemen of Port Royal would have. This was the Kingdom of Pirates, after all. "Pleasure's all mine."

She nodded her head curtly. "Thank you for replacing the bed. I think... I shall sleep now."

The bid him goodnight, locking the door behind him.

Sitting heavily onto the bed, the mattress dipping dangerously off the side of the bed-frame, she thought about all she had learnt that night. She imagined Jack, in this very room, as a young boy desperate to follow the call of the sea, until the urge had been too strong to resist any longer. She imagined him on this bed, writhing in agony while a doctor pulled the bullets from his chest. So much blood had been lost. How on earth had he survived? She imagined him bathed in sweat, sleeping in the bloodstains of his last visit, chanting for her, calling for her. She imagined herself, water bowl in hand, dabbing with a cloth at his brow, soothing him. Clinging to his hand as the doctor performed his crude surgery on his wounds. Stroking his hair as the wounds were cleaned with precious rum, and cauterised with red hot metal. She imagined them both, in this bed, whispering to each other...

Oh, you hussy. Her husband not but a few hours gone, and already she was picturing herself with another man. And not just any man. That man.

God, ten years was a long time, indeed. Her body had been awakened to sensual realities of womanhood, and she knew that she couldn't wait ten years. But as for him... no, she'd have to steer clear of him. Jack was as much a danger to her heart as to her body. He would worm his way into her heart, and stay there. And she must protect Will's heart, above all else. Protect it within her own.

But as for physical pleasure... she resolved again to find a way of communicating with Calypso. After all, all men took lovers, why not a Pirate King?

Removing her heavily armoured coat and belt, she slipped beneath the covers in her black dress, placing her effects on the ground, within easy reach. Glancing again to check the lock of the door, her hand skimmed over her thighs, her fingers travelling to that secret part of her. A part of her still sore from her hasty honeymoon. Flashes of images raced through her mind as she touched herself. A pair of dark, kind eyes. Strong, calloused hands on her bare waist. Her fingers tracing over a scar on a man's chest. Soft, greedy lips tasting her own. A wry smirk. A glint of gold.

Tipping herself into ecstasy, she let the night take her, and let her exhaustion claim her.

#fanfic the adventures of elizabeth swann #the adventures of elizabeth swann #elizabeth swann #sparrabeth #travellingtypewriter #travellingtypewriter fanfiction #travelling typewriter #fanfiction #fanfic #PotC #potc fanfic #potc fanfiction #pirates of the caribbean #chapter two #part three #return to shipwreck cove #shipwreck cove

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acklest · 6 years ago

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Why is your husband the most Iconic and sweetest person ever?! We(I'm confidently assuming that I'm not the only one) need to know more about him.

Oh, you may regret this.

(If you’re squeamish about blood, you might wanna proceed with caution. I promise I’m not trying to be dramatic. There’s blood in this.)

He is iconic, at least to me. And he’s probably really only “sweet” to me. Also to the cat, but he denies this. To everyone else, he’s just a quiet sort of guy with a permanently “done” look on his face.

What he planned to do from childhood was join the US Navy, because his Dad had been in the Navy. He wanted to be a technician on a submarine.

As soon as he graduated high school, he went to talk to a recruiter, and got sent to take the ASVAB. His scores on that were great and he was willing to enlist for a long hitch. The recruiter was like “it’s not even my birthday.”

But he failed the hearing part of his physical, so his status was “disqualified recommending waiver.” He didn’t know that his hearing had degenerated from type 2 (moderate) to type 3 (severe). The eval was to see if he could hear all the comms with his headset cranked up to max without hearing aids (which he hated wearing anyway). When he missed some of the cues, he was fully disqualified.

Then he had to figure out what his second choice for the rest of his life would be. Nothing really jumped out at him. He’d never really thought about it. But his family couldn’t pay for college, so he would need a job.

His best friend got him on as a cashier working the graveyard shift at a 24-hour gas station/mini-mart. During breaks, he looked over the course catalog from the local community college. He thought maybe he could do one of those non-degree cert programs, like becoming a welder or a mechanic.

A week before, a dude who had sued that chain of gas stations for damages from a personal injury found out that he wasn’t getting a settlement. He was across the street from the one where my husband worked. I guess lawsuit dude got enraged all over again, thought “I’ll show them”, and loaded the .22 he had in his jacket before heading over.

My husband was behind the counter, where the liquor was, thinking he was dealing with just another drunk customer at 4-fucking-AM. When he turned to ask if he needed anything else, lawsuit dude shot him in the side of the face from about six feet away. The bullet wound its way through his jawbone and he instinctively reached up to his mouth because he felt loose bits of his teeth on his tongue. (Sort of a dark in-joke, when one of us asks the other about a day that had obviously not gone well. “Bad. Not gargling-my-own-teeth bad, but not great.”)

He would’ve spun around by then to take cover behind the counter, but the sound of the gunshot stunned him because he heard it perfectly. He was born deaf/hearing-impaired, so he’d always heard things a certain way, through a certain amount of… I don’t know, static, interference, fog? But this he heard perfectly and it stunned him.

(“If their headsets went up that high, I could’ve joined the Navy.”)

So he didn’t turn in time to miss the second bullet, which hit him in the chest from the same range. As he turned, the third one hit him in the side of his stomach. The fourth one hit him in the thigh, nicking his femoral artery. Then his best friend showed up to tag in for his shift, heard the loud noise, ran in to help like a moron. So the last thing my husband heard before he blacked out was his best friend screaming at the guy to stop, and then a few more gunshots after that.

If a Jeep full of hard partiers hadn’t pulled up to get gas and ran next door to call 911, he’d be dead right now. Of course, lawsuit dude was hell and gone by then.

He woke up in the hospital ten days later, heavily drugged. He tried to talk but they had done something to stabilize his jaw so he couldn’t speak. He was in and out for a couple of days after that.

A day or so later, the thoracic surgeon sat down and told him that he’d died a couple of times, and that they tried to get the bullet out of his chest, but it had ended up less than 4cm away from his heart, so it was too high risk. They would have to leave it in. He apologized for how wide the scar was from when they opened his chest, because they had to work so quickly. When they brought him in, he was covered in blood, all over. His hair had matted together from lying in it until the EMT people got there. One of them told him later, “We saw the booze behind the counter and assumed a bullet had hit a couple of bottles of red wine.”

Not so much.

His best friend had died in the ambulance on the way.

There was two years of recovery, facial reconstruction for his jaw, lots of dental work, physical therapy, follow-up procedures, and so on. There was a court trial that dragged on and on.

It hurt when he breathed in, it hurt if he laughed. It all hurt. He’s a big dude, 5'10, shaped kinda like Wolverine (comic Wolverine, not Huge Yakman Wolverine). His health had always been good. He said he felt like he was being punished for not appreciating it enough while he had it. Up til all that, he’d been a devout Catholic, but that burned away real quick. He says that the 18 year old working at the mini-mart was a different person than the one who got wheeled out of the hospital a couple of months later. He didn’t know that guy.

He spent the next ten years on what I call a Chuck Norris tasting tour, where he was likely suicidal but not aware of it. He survived two terrible motorcycle accidents, a spectacularly failed marriage, he was thrown off a horse and hit the ground with a thud about 30 feet below, and then a drunk driver plowed into the back end of his car at top speed and he ended up ass over tea kettle in a ditch.

A few months after that, he started having terrible chest pains. He thought it was just pain from the impact with the steering wheel, which broke a couple of ribs. But when it kept going even after his ribs had healed, he went back to the hospital. The impact had shook stuff around and now the bullet was moving closer to his heart. Moving very very slowly, but yeah. So they had to open him up again to get it out.

(“Would you like to keep it?”

“…What?”

“Some people like to keep the bullet.”

“Uh. No. Thank you. I think a decade’s enough.”)

Fast forward to ‘98. I was a year or so off of a devastating event/blue screen of death thing of my own. I had a baby that I had never planned to have because I wussed out of the adoption process (I’m not saying I regret that, I’m just saying). I was on a little death-seeking tour of my own, when some mutual friends pushed us together. I do not know why. Maybe because we were the same amount of “over it.”? Maybe to take us both out of the dating pool at the same time, thereby making it safer for everyone? “You know someone who’s a walking disaster? Me too!”

The wheels almost fell off the wagon a couple of times. He told me he loved me and I didn’t talk to him for a couple of months. He sent me an instant message that said, “I am not playing Peter Gabriel outside your goddamn window. Get the fuck over this.” The age gap (22 years) made him pull away a bit there for awhile, but we didn’t need any Peter Gabriel for that shit either.

Nothing really surprises him or catches him off guard. This sort of weird Midwestern Zen thing that I don’t really understand because I’m kind of the opposite. Our communication is weird because neither one of us talks about anything that’s really bugging us, but we kind of talk around it.

I asked him to marry me a few years after we’d moved in, and he said “I don’t know, the last one didn’t go too well.” (A charming understatement.) I was cool with that. I was like… 83% cool with that. Almost a year later, while we were watching a movie, he turned to me and said, “Yeah.“

A YEAR later.

“Yeah?” Like I would fucking know what he was talking about.

“I’ll marry you."

"About time. Would you say that you were trying to decide the entire year or was it more of an on-and-off thing?”

“Oh, fuck off."

Anyway – courthouse, Vegas, etc.

What I need you to know about him, more than anything, are these three things:

1) When one of my family members (an uncle I didn’t know well) showed up to threaten the two of us, he quietly took that man by the arm and walked him out to the parking lot. I was watching from our doorway. I thought I was about to see him rip the guy’s head off and go bowling.

I didn’t see him make an angry face. I didn’t hear him raise his voice. It was a quiet conversation, and then that man backed away, got in his car, and left. That was 15 years ago, and I haven’t seen him or heard from him since, though I got a letter from my biological mother the week after, asking what kind of psychopath I was living with.

Still no fucking clue what he said, though.

2) His idea of asking me to move in with him back in ‘98 was to start replacing the furniture in my apartment with new furniture, but leaving that new furniture at his apartment. "Got you a new desk."

"I have a desk.”

“Your desk isn’t gonna go with the chair.”

“What chair?”

“The chair I bought you last week.”

“You bought me a chair last week?”

“Yeah, come over and look at it.”

As near as I can tell, his plan was to slowly replace all of my furniture but keep it at his apartment and to slowly move me in a box of things at a time until I was like “Wow, all my stuff’s over there.”

3) When little kids ask him about the inch-wide scar from his collarbone all the way to his navel, with a narrower scar on top of that one from the second surgery, he tells them that he was shaving with a straight razor and suddenly sneezed really hard.

#this is your captain speaking #not spn #also there's probably so many typos

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altruisticallydriven · 6 years ago

Text

To The Mothers I’ve Helped Deliver: What You Might Not Have Noticed

As I walked into your room for the first time, you might not have noticed but I was nervous, too. You asked a million questions, and I tried to sound confident answering every one, but the truth is that every time I left your room I went to the nurses' station and double-checked with all the other nurses that I was saying and doing everything right.

I didn’t want to miss anything.

It was my first day without a preceptor, and I was scared I wasn’t good enough to care for you yet. You might not have noticed, but your reassuring smile and continuous “thank you”’s that day instilled a confidence in me that gave me the perseverance I needed to get through those first few months at this job.

You might not have noticed, but I was relieved, too. When your babies heart rate kept dropping and we were running out of things to try, suddenly you dilated and you were ready to push. I had tried to keep a smile on my face and my voice calm as I asked you to roll over to your side and opened up your fluids to give you a bolus, but inside I was counting the seconds that your babies heart rate was in the 70′s, turning up the volume on the monitor as I kept switching you positions until I heard which one got the babies heart rate back up even before I saw it on the strip. You might not have noticed, but in those seconds my heart was racing faster than yours as I contemplated the next three interventions I would do and in what order if that heart rate didn't come up soon. And when you finally felt the relief of pushing out your baby, you might not have noticed, but the Doctor and I gave eachother a look of relief as well, and I felt myself breathe again. I didn’t realize I had been holding my breath with you.

You might not have noticed, but I was happy to. As I rested my hands on your shoulders to keep you relaxed during your epidural, and you squeezed my arms to keep yourself from moving through contractions while the needle was in your back, you kept apologizing. But I was grateful that there was finally someway I could really help distract and relieve your pain a bit after watching your labor for so long and feeling helpless. It’s a funny thing, as nurses we have an instinctive desire to take away pain, and when first learning how to labor with someone and coach them through the pain it seems unnatural- that pain, instead of being something to run away from, is something to press into. That pain can bring life instead of death. But I would be lying if I told you I wasn’t relieved when you chose to have an epirdural when your dilation stalled and your body could no longer relax enough to make room for your baby. I was more than glad to let you hold my hand, or squeeze my arm, or rest your hand on my shoulder- to feel and know that I’m actually doing something to help you cope through this, that relief was minutes away. You might not have noticed, but when you finally were able to relax after the medication settled, I relaxed, too.

You might not have noticed, but I didn’t know the words to say when suddenly everything went wrong. One minute we were smiling and laughing, and the next you were bleeding and we were calling the doctor and rolling you to the OR. You couldn’t see your baby come out because it happened so fast, and you had to be put under general anesthesia, but I knew before the NICU team gave me that look of grief and heartache that there was nothing they could do. You might not have noticed, but I held your baby as he took his last breath in that OR because you couldn’t- but I knew you’d want someone too. As the doctors finished your surgery and closed your empty womb, I felt the life leave his little body and cried under my mask as I tried to think of the words I’d tell you when you woke up in recovery. But there are no words for this.

You might not have noticed, but I prayed over your little one as I took footprints and dressed her in a yellow dress. She was so tiny, and though you weren't sure you’d want pictures I took them anyway just in case you came back and changed your mind. You might not have noticed, but my voice was shaking, too, as I coached you through pushing out a baby that came too early that day, both of us knowing that with every push you came closer to having to say goodbye. I had to turn away for a moment when you first held her, the heartbreak was so tangible in the room that I felt like it was suffocating me, too. But I wanted to be there, I wanted to be strong for you. I was grieving with you, too.

You might not have noticed, but I was thankful for you, too. After nights of hard deliveries and moms losing babies, I needed something to remind me why I loved this job, I needed something to uplift my dragging feet and a heavy heart. And there you were, walking into the room 8 centimeters dilated and smiling like this was the best day of your life. And it was, I suppose. I smiled with you as you told me you had been waiting for this baby for five years, and laughed in surprise when you threw your arms out and said praises to the Lord through your contractions. There you were, a first-time mother, laboring without any medication as though it was the greatest honor and joy of your life. I was in awe. And as we went from sitting to squatting, to standing, back to lying down, I encouraged and coached you through transition- but you didn’t really need my help. You were doing it all your own. I shook my head and bragged about you to the other nurses outside. When it was finally time to begin pushing, you grabbed your husbands hand and prayed for this babies health, and your strength, and gave thanks. I had never seen anything like it. I prayed along with you- I was thankful, too.

You may not have noticed, but they were tears of relief, not happiness. When I put a pulse ox on you I saw that your heart rate matched what we thought was babies, and we realized the baby monitor had been picking up your heart rate instead. And for those moments, I didn't how long we hadn't been picking up the babies heart rate. The doctor, another nurse, and I gave each other the same panicked look as we got you to push harder so that we could get this baby out. I had never felt fear like this before. My hands were shaking as I got you in position and helped you count to ten. When his head came out and the doctor said tight nuchal, meaning the babies cord was wrapped around its neck, my stomach dropped. My hand hovered over the NICU button, ready to call for help, as his body slid out and for a moment he laid there stunned. When he finally let out his first cry, I began crying too. I think you thought it was because I was overjoyed and touched at his birth (and I was), but they were tears of relief, not joy. What had almost ended in disaster turned out okay. And as you held your baby for the first time I wiped the silent tears from my eyes before I turned to you and said congratulations- he was perfect.

You may not have noticed, but there’s a lot we don't tell you. Like how much an IV is going to hurt before we put it, or why they call it the “ring of fire” when your babies crowning. We didn’t tell you how close you were to an emergency C-section when your baby had a prolonged decel and the resident, the charge nurse, and I were all calmy asking you to turn over again while simultaneously giving you oxygen and a fluid bolus and checking you to see if there was a cord. That it wasn’t normal, to have this many people in the room. We didn’t tell you how scared we were, too. Because in those moments you are already overwhelmed, and fearful, and feeling helpless. When it comes to decisions that need to be made, we make sure to tell you as far in advance as we can and as clearly as we can. But the rest of it, the scary reality of it, we keep to ourselves- because it's not helpful to you or baby to know everything. Instead, we figure out how to fix it. And how to give you the kind of labor and delivery you always wanted.

You may not have noticed, but this is the kind of job you take home with you. When people hear I am a labor and delivery nurse, they smile and automatically say “how wonderful! that must be such a happy job”, and I laugh because, for the most part, they are right- but this morning after shift I was crying drinking a glass of wine with a coworker because the night before I watched a mom who had traveled countries to save her baby watch her baby die anyway. And as she cried and rocked her silent baby, I cried with her too. I swear I’ve never seen grief like this before. You cannot not feel it, too. The good nights are really, really good. And the bad nights are almost unbearable. This job is scary and exciting and full of up and downs and an insurmountable amount of responsibility. No matter how many deliveries I help in, I still sometimes feel incompetent, unworthy, and unsure. But nothing can describe the feeling of handing a baby to his dad for the first time, still naked and crying, and watching love settle there in his eyes- and it does, every time. Or the honor of comforting a grieving mom and telling her its not her fault as she goes into preterm labor again, and delivers a baby 3 days before its viable. Nothing can describe the awe-inspiring strength I see day in and day out from these women who came in scared and unsure of what their bodies can handle, then proceed to press into that tension and fear with such bravery that it takes my breath away.

You may not have noticed, but it's worth it. I had no idea when I became a labor and delivery nurse all of the joy and heartache that awaited me, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Every day I get to come into work and walk into one of the most vulnerable and significant moments of someone’s life, and I get to walk with them through it. I get to help, coach, comfort, and celebrate with them. I experience your grief, and I experience your joy. It's more real than I could’ve ever imagined. So, to all the mothers I’ve helped deliver- thank you. Thank you for letting me be a part of this experience, these moments. Know that you are loved, you are prayed for, and cared about. You are remembered. And you are not alone in your grieving, or in your joy. You may not notice, but we carry it with us, too. You are what inspires and moves us to continue to put those scrubs on and stay awake during those harder nights. Your strength is contagious. Thank you for making it worth it.

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arysafics · 6 years ago

Text

wish you the worst, wish you the best

Summary: Clarke and Bellamy are in a happy relationship until Octavia has an accident and he has to go across the country to look after her.

Rated T, ~4,500 words

for @eyessharpweaponshot

Bellamy is the one who encouraged Clarke to start her own business. Almost two years into their relationship, Clarke having just finished med school and knowing she absolutely didn’t want to be a doctor. But she hadn’t known that when she started, and it’s what her mom wanted, and Clarke has never been a quitter. She still told everyone she wanted to be a doctor. Because it’s impressive, right? To be able to tell people you’re a doctor. And her mom was so proud of her. And her dad would have been so proud of her. But Bellamy saw right through her.

It took some convincing, but Clarke eventually came around on the idea of starting her own graphic design business. Art has always been what she truly loves, and with Bellamy whispering to her you deserve to do something for yourself for once, she decided to go for it.

And now, two months later, she’s holding a launch party, because why the hell not? She’s got family and friends and potential clients around her, and, most importantly of all, the love of her life, her sun, her rock, Bellamy, at her side, looking so goddamn proud of her.

“I knew you could do it,” he whispers, kissing her cheek as yet another person walks away after saying their farewell and congratulating her again. Clarke leans into his side, trying to use him as an anchor so she doesn’t start feeling too giddy about the whole thing. It doesn’t work.

“We don’t even know if I’m going to be successful yet,” Clarke says. “Maybe I’ll crash and burn in the first month.”

“You won’t,” Bellamy assures her. His arm wraps around her, pulling her even closer.

Clarke looks up at him. It’s hard to fathom his unwavering faith in her sometimes. “But what if I do?” she asks.

“Then we’ll work though that together if the time comes,” Bellamy says. “Just like I know we can work through anything else together. But you’ve got this. I know you do.” He plants a kiss on the top of her head.

“You’re the best person in the world, you know that?” Clarke tells him. Bellamy chuckles.

“Come on, almost everyone is gone. We can sneak out,” Bellamy says. His eyes drop to her cleavage. “I’ve been trying to keep my hands off you all night.”

Clarke laughs. “What, you think you’re getting lucky just because you were nice to me?”

Bellamy smirks at her. “No, I think I’m getting lucky because you’ve been eyeing me like I’m a piece of meat all night.”

“Am I that transparent?”

“I know you, Clarke,” Bellamy says. Clarke feels her heart twinge. He does know her. Like no one else does. She’s not sure how she got so lucky as to get to be with him. She rolls her eyes at him.

“Okay, let’s go,” she says, leaning up to kiss him. “Otherwise I’ll end up asking you to fuck me in the bathroom, and that didn’t go so well the last time we tried it.”

Bellamy laughs. “Yeah, but it was memorable,” he grins. “If a little unsexy.”

“Bellamy, you fell in a urinal. Unsexy doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

Bellamy is still grinning. “Point taken. Let’s stop talking about it before you kill my hard on.”

“You’re hard already, baby?” Clarke whispers huskily, eyes dropping to his crotch.

“Yeah, and if you keep using that voice on me it’s only going to get worse,” Bellamy says. “You look so goddamn sexy tonight, Clarke,” he says, and it’s his turn to drop his voice all low and seductive. Clarke shivers. She rubs her hand over his chest.

“Let’s go,” she says. “And I’ll take care of that for you.”

They give a hurried goodbye to the last couple of hangers on, and dart outside. The night is warm and breezy, the kind of air that gives Clarke the feeling like things are happening. Like anything could happen.

They get into the back seat of their Uber and Bellamy takes her hand, his fingers linked in hers all the way home. Clarke leans back against the seat, unable to keep the smile from her face. She glances at Bellamy. She’s sure she’s never been so undeniably happy in all her life.

Later, after he’s made her come several times, she wraps herself in his arms and buries her head into his chest, her love for him almost overwhelming.

“Everything okay?” he asks, stroking her hair.

“Yeah,” Clarke says. “Just thinking about how grateful I am for you. I never could have done this without you. It’s a scary thing to quit something sure and secure and try and start something new. But I knew I could do it, because I’ve got you. You make me feel safe.”

“Clarke,” Bellamy whispers, lips against her hair. “Marry me.”

“What?” She pulls away, searching his eyes to see if he’s serious. He’s never looked more earnest in all his life.

“I was going to wait until our anniversary. But I don’t want to wait. Will you marry me?”

Clarke breaks out into a grin. “Yes,” she laughs. “Yes.”

A week later, Clarke has had two clients. She’s anxious that business won’t pick up, but Bellamy reassures her that once she gets her name out there, once her satisfied clients start crowing about her, she’ll be so inundated with jobs she’ll be able to pick and choose. Clarke hopes he’s right.

She’s working on designing wedding invitations (for a client, not for herself), but she keeps getting distracted by the giant rock on her left hand, feeling giddy every time she looks at it. She keeps fiddling with it, and staring at it, still not used to it on her finger. She’s about to give up on the invitations and go for an early lunch when Bellamy rings.

“Hey,” she answers, putting him on speaker while she fiddles around on the computer. “Did you want me to pick up something for dinner tonight, because I was thinking—”

“Clarke,” Bellamy interrupts, his voice ragged and weak. Clarke’s stomach drops. She picks up the phone and puts it to her ear.

“What’s wrong?”

“There was an accident,” he says. “Octavia—” he swallows. “She’s alive but she’s in a critical condition. I have to fly home.”

“Okay. Okay,” Clarke says. “I’ll be right home. We’ll get the next flight.”

Bellamy is already mostly packed for both of them by the time she gets home, and has already bought the plane tickets. He’s in the bedroom, zipping up his suitcase. Clarke goes to his side and rubs his arm to comfort him.

“Are you okay?” she asks. He’s wearing an expression of stoicism, and he nods shortly, his jaw tight. He’s very clearly not okay, but Clarke knows better than to push him. He’ll open up when he’s ready. “What happened?” she asks.

“Car accident,” Bellamy says tersely. “She accidentally ran a red light. They’re taking her into surgery as soon as they can. Won’t know more until we get there. Flight is in two hours.”

“You want to get to the airport early and have a drink or two?”

Bellamy nods. He swallows, and a tear leaks from his eye. “Clarke—” Clarke doesn’t hesitate. Her arms circle around his neck, and he grips her around her waist tightly, burying his head against her shoulder. “What if she doesn’t make it?” he whispers.

“She will.”

“But what if she doesn’t?”

“Then we’ll get through it together.”

Clarke knows Bellamy hates hospitals, knows it reminds him of his mother’s final months, when it became clear the chemo wasn’t working. She grips his hand tightly, and leads the way to Octavia’s room. It’s hard for Clarke to see Octavia like this, looking weak and bruised and broken, so she can’t imagine what it must be like for Bellamy. He looks sick to his stomach, and he’s squeezing Clarke’s hand so tight she thinks it might break.

Octavia’s eyes crack open. “Hey, big brother,” she groans. Bellamy practically sobs in relief. He drops Clarke’s hand and is at Octavia’s side in a second.

“You’re okay,” he says.

“I’m alive, if that’s what you mean,” she says. “And apparently my surgery went well. But I feel like hell. Hey, Clarke.”

“Hey,” Clarke smiles. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

A doctor enters the room. “You must be Octavia’s brother. Bellamy, right?”

Bellamy nods. “My fiancée, Clarke,” Bellamy introduces.

“I’m Dr Nyko. I’m happy to tell you the surgery went well. Provided there are no further complications, Octavia should make a full recovery. But she will need physical therapy.”

“How long for?” Bellamy asks. Nyko tilts his head, considering.

“A couple of months, maybe.”

“Fuck that,” Octavia groans.

“You’re lucky you’re alive,” Nyko reminds her. He turns his attention back to Bellamy. “We’ll keep her in here for a little while longer. Will you be around to take care of her after that, until she’s fully recovered?”

Bellamy glances at Clarke. “Yeah, of course.”

They stay at Octavia’s place. It’s a house meant for a family, but Octavia lives there alone, since her husband passed a year ago. Clarke doesn’t know how she could stand it.

Clarke comes out of the bathroom and walks into the guest bedroom, where Bellamy is sitting up in bed, glasses on, reading a crime thriller. Not his usual genre, but he’d forgotten to pack a book and it’s one of the only books Octavia owns. Clarke crawls into bed beside him, and snuggles into his side.

“I’m glad Octavia is going to be okay,” she says. “Even if she does need physical therapy.”

Bellamy puts his book down. “I know. It could have been so much worse. But she’ll have me to help her through it as well. Though I’m sure we’ll drive each other crazy,” he laughs.

Clarke smiles, just for a moment, before she swallows. “Bellamy, I—” she starts. “I have to go back. You know I want to stay here with you, but with my business just starting… I can’t be away for that long.”

Bellamy looks at her, then slides down, so he’s lying beside her. “I know,” he whispers. “I don’t want you to go either, but I know you have to.”

“I’ll come back whenever I can,” Clarke whispers. “And we can talk on the phone every day.”

“Two months will fly by. And then I’ll be back and we can plan our wedding.” Clarke gives him a watery smile. When had she started crying? Bellamy wipes away a tear with his thumb. “Hey,” he says soothingly. “It’s going to be okay, I promise. I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

Their goodbye at the airport is lot more tearful than Clarke would have liked. It’s so dumb. She hasn’t even left yet and she already misses him. How the fuck is she going to go two months without seeing him every day? She cries for the first hour of the flight, until she’s all out of tears. Then she just feels hollow.

She calls him as soon as she lands, forgetting about the time difference. He answers anyway, voice hoarse from sleep.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Clarke returns. “Sorry, I forgot it’s like midnight there.”

“It’s okay. How was your flight?”

“Shitty. I can’t wait to get home.”

“I’ll bet.”

There’s a silence, and Clarke bites her lip. “I should let you get back to sleep. I miss you.”

“I miss you too, baby,” Bellamy says. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” She hangs up, and then she’s crying again.

Clarke manages to distract herself from Bellamy’s absence with work. In her second week, she picks up a few new jobs, and then, all of a sudden, she’s busy. She stays at her office until at least six most nights, working on invitations, cards, and banners, among other things. Then she has to deal with the business side of things too, which she kind of hates, and it always takes her much longer than it should because she procrastinates and grumbles about it the whole time.

She’ll call Bellamy when she gets home from work most nights, try to fill him on her day, and he does the same. It’s mostly just mundane stuff though. I got a new client today. Octavia is out of the hospital. My mom is coming over for dinner. It’s too hard to talk properly over the phone. She wants to tell him how hard it is without him. How she feels overwhelmed by all the work she has to do, and she wishes she could curl up in his arms at the end of the day and have him tell her it will be okay. She wants to tell him about how she accidentally fucked up and charged a customer too much and they yelled at her until she cried. But she can’t say any of that over the phone. She doesn’t want to make him feel guilty for looking after his sister instead of her. So she lets him think everything is perfect, and she refuses to cry while she’s on the phone to him.

She wants to talk to him every day, but she’s so busy, and half the time by the time she gets home it’s too late to call. So she’ll send him a goodnight message for him to wake up to, telling him she loves him and she misses him.

She’s exhausted by the time she gets to bed. Yet she can’t fall asleep for hours, and she knows it’s because he’s not there. Her chest aches she misses him so badly. She’ll scroll through her photos of him on her phone, or his Instagram or his Facebook profile, until her eyes hurt and her eyelids physically can’t stay open anymore. And every morning when she wakes up, she has that same gut-wrenching burst of dread when she realises he’s not in bed with her. She takes a few deep breaths, and reminds herself she’s one day closer to seeing him again.

It’s been over a month when Bellamy asks her when she’s visiting. Clarke stops short, feeling immensely guilty. She’d forgotten she even made the promise to visit.

“I don’t know,” she says. “I’m so busy. I’m not sure.”

Bellamy sighs, and Clarke feels like he’s annoyed at her. Has he been waiting for her to organise a trip this whole time? “It’s fine, Clarke. I get it. I just miss you is all.”

“I know, baby. I miss you too. I want to see you, I really do. It’s just it’s five hours there and five hours back, and I wouldn’t get any work done while I was with you,” Clarke babbles. God, she’s such a shitty girlfriend. Fiancée, she reminds herself. She’s so used to the ring now she forgets it’s there sometimes.

“Okay,” Bellamy says, a little shortly.

“It’s only another month,” Clarke says, trying to reassure them both. They can do it. And then they’ve got the rest of their lives together.

“Actually,” Bellamy says, and Clarke’s chest tightens. “They think it’s going to be a little longer.”

“How much longer?”

“Not sure. But Octavia doesn’t have anyone else. It’s just me. I have to—”

“I know,” Clarke says quickly.

“If you get the time, see if you can make the trip.”

“I’ll try. I miss you.”

“Yeah.”

“I love you.”

“I know, Clarke.”

When she opens Bellamy’s Facebook page three days later, there’s a new photo, one he’s been tagged in by someone named Echo. Took this guy on an early birthday hike, the caption reads, underneath the picture of Bellamy posing on top of a rock. Clarke’s stomach drops. It’s his fucking birthday tomorrow. That’s why he was hinting that he wanted her to visit. Guilt thuds in her stomach, and she feels like she’s going to be sick. What kind of self-involved idiot forgets their fiancé’s birthday?

She stares at the photo. He looks happy. He’s grinning goofily at whoever is taking the picture. This Echo woman, Clarke supposes. She wonders why he’s never mentioned her. The guilt that churns in her stomach morphs into something worse, something nasty and sinister, and Clarke clicks on Echo’s name. She’s taken to Echo’s Facebook profile, which is completely public. Her bio reads that she’s an influencer. Clarke rolls her eyes.

She scrolls through Echo’s photos. There’s only the one of Bellamy, the rest are all of Echo herself, posing sexily in all of them. She’s a thin brunette with legs for days. Clarke hates her on sight. She tries to tell herself she’s not jealous. So what if Bellamy went hiking with this woman a day before his birthday? It doesn’t mean anything. Clarke hates hiking, so it’s not like she would have wanted to do that with him anyway. And he’s allowed to have hot friends. There’s no crime against that. Besides, he would never cheat on her. She knows that. Bellamy knows she’s been two-timed before, knows what that did to her. He’d never put her through that.

Still, she has an urge to jump on the next flight and be there for his birthday. Pretend she’d been planning to surprise him all along. But then she thinks about the appointments she’d have to cancel, the clients she might lose, the work she wouldn’t get done. It’s still so early on, she can’t afford to miss even a day.

So instead she goes online and orders flowers to be sent to him. It’s not enough, she knows, but it will have to do.

Clarke had been counting down the weeks until Bellamy returns. But now it’s indefinite, and two months turns into three and then four. They seem to fly by and yet drag on at the same time. She keeps telling herself she’ll go and visit, but then something will come up with work and she has to postpone.

They speak less and less now, and Clarke hates it, and she feels awful, and she knows it’s her fault. But she can’t say anything to make it better, can’t do anything to change it. She just needs him to come home. Then things will go back to normal. She can remind him how much she loves him with actions, instead of just repeating it over and over on the phone, where it sounds weak and far away.

Sometimes when she calls now, he doesn’t even pick up. She cries most nights, missing him more than ever, until one day she can’t take it anymore, and she decides she has to fly out and see him. She calls him while she’s at work to let him know, and thankfully he picks up.

“Hey,” she says.

“Hey, I’m a little busy, what’s up?”

“Oh. That’s okay. I was just going to say I think I’m going to come and visit.”

“Oh,” Bellamy says. “You know, you don’t need to. I’ll be back soon. Octavia’s done with physical therapy.”

“She is? That’s great! Did you just find out?”

“Last week.”

“Last week? Why didn’t you call?”

“Sorry. I guess I forgot. Her last session was yesterday. So I’ll be back in a couple of days.”

“A couple of days.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. I guess I’ll see you then.”

“See you then.”

“I love you.”

He’s already hung up the phone.

She picks him up at the airport, though he insists she doesn’t have to. They should have a million things to talk about, but the drive is silent.

“Everything okay?” Clarke asks. She knows it’s not. She doesn’t know what’s wrong exactly, but she knows it’s something.

“I’m just tired,” Bellamy says. Clarke nods. She’s not going to cry. For all she knows, there’s nothing to cry about. He probably is tired.

She crawls into bed beside him that night, and she feels this wall between them. She doesn’t know if she put it there, or if he did. She doesn’t want to bring it up, in case she’s being crazy. Doesn’t want to make it real. Doesn’t want to admit that they’re not the same as they were four months ago. That distance didn’t make them stronger, that it chipped away at their bond, and Clarke is afraid that it’s unfixable. She’s afraid she’s the only one who wants to fix it.

“Bellamy,” she whispers. There’s a moment of silence, and Clarke thinks he must be asleep. Or pretending to be asleep.

“Yeah?”

“We’re going to be okay, aren’t we?”

More silence. “I don’t know, Clarke.”

Clarke cries herself to sleep again.

Over the next few days, Clarke tries to make up for lost time. She still has to work, but she comes home as soon as she can, makes him dinner, tells him about her day. Clarke thinks maybe he’s trying too. He goes back to work, and he tells her about the dumb things his students do, like he used to. There are a few moments when they feel like their old selves again, and it gives Clarke a glimmer of hope.

But they still don’t talk about the problem. She doesn’t ask him, and he doesn’t tell her. And as long as they don’t discuss it, it stands between them, this dark unknown that Clarke can’t cross, no matter how much she wants to.

They haven’t had sex in four months. He should be desperate for her, the way she is for him. But he doesn’t reach for her at night, and she can’t bring herself to make the first move.

She wakes up one night, just after four am. Bellamy isn’t in bed. Clarke gets up and pads out to the living room. She can hear him talking in a low whisper, his deep voice filling the room despite trying to be quiet. Clarke stops in the doorway. He’s on the phone.

“Yeah,” he says. “I should go back to bed. Thanks, Echo.”

Clarke’s stomach churns. She’s not sure which emotion is stronger, despair, anger, or jealousy. Bellamy stands and turns. He stops when he sees Clarke standing in the doorway.

“Echo, huh?” she says, trying to keep the hurt from her voice.

“We were just talking,” Bellamy says.

“At four am?” Clarke scoffs. “What’s so important that it couldn’t wait until a reasonable hour?”

“Clarke,” Bellamy huffs. “Don’t make a big deal out of this.”

Clarke shakes her head, outraged and hurt. “Did you fuck her?”

“No,” Bellamy says vehemently. “The fact that you would even think—”

“So I’m crazy, is that it? Stupid, paranoid Clarke.”

“I didn’t fuck her.”

“So what, then?” Clarke whispers. Bellamy is silent for a moment.

“You know Octavia’s car accident? Turns out it wasn’t an accident. She ran the red light on purpose.”

Clarke stares at him in shock. “Bellamy—”

“She tried to kill herself. Do you have any idea what that was like for me to find out?”

Clarke shakes her head. “How could I? You never told me. I wanted to be there for you—”

“But you weren’t! You were across the other side of the fucking country. You never even fucking tried to come and see me,” Bellamy snaps, finally losing it.

“You know why I wasn’t there! I had a business to run! And if you’d just told me—”

“A business that’s more important than your fiancé.”

Clarke wants to slap him. Tears well in her eyes. “You told me to go for it. You wanted me to be successful. How can you throw that in my face now?”

“I’m not throwing it in your face! I’m just pointing out that you made a choice. And your choice had consequences.”

“Consequences? What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You asked me what I had with Echo.”

Clarke stares at him. They have something? “What do you mean?”

“I needed someone, and you weren’t there. So I had to turn to someone else.”

Clarke sobs, and the dam breaks. “You shut me out. And then you found someone else to confide in? All the things you should have been telling me, you told her? How could you? After what I went through with Finn?”

“Clarke, I never cheated on you.”

“You may as fucking well have!” Clarke screams. “I hate you. I hate you.”

Bellamy’s jaw ticks. “You hate me?”

“Yes, I fucking hate you. I hate you and I don’t want to look at you. Why don’t you go and fuck Echo, since you so obviously want to? We’re done. It’s over.”

Bellamy stares at her, his face hardened. She wants him to hurt, like she hurts. She wants him to break down and cry and tell her he’s sorry and that he loves her and doesn’t want to be without her. She wants him to say that they can work this out, that it’s not too late. But he doesn’t.

“Yeah, I know,” he says. Clarke feels like she’s been punched. All the air leaves her, and she finds herself gasping for breath. He pushes past her, towards the bedroom. Clarke stands there, feeling hopeless and confused. She doesn’t really want it to be over. She’s just angry and hurt.

“Bellamy,” she calls after him, but her voice is barely a whisper. “Bellamy!” she says again, louder this time. She follows him to the bedroom. He has his still half-full suitcase on the bed, and he’s throwing things into it haphazardly. “What are you doing?”

He doesn’t answer. He zips up the suitcase and picks it up off the bed. “Don’t worry, you won’t have to look at me another second longer.”

He walks past her, out of the bedroom, and she chases after him. “Where are you even going to go? It’s 4am.”

“I’ll find somewhere.”

“Bellamy,” Clarke says, her voice softening. “Bellamy, don’t go. Please don’t go. I love you.”

He stops, and for the first time, Clarke sees some hint that he still cares for her. Can see him warring with himself, whether to leave, or whether to go to her, comfort her. “I know,” he whispers. “Clarke,” he says, and his voice breaks. “I just can’t do this anymore. Things just aren’t the same. We’re not the same.”

“But what about all the things you said? What about working through things together?” Clarke asks, somehow managing to get words out through her tears. “What about this?” She holds up her left hand, and points to the ring.

A tear runs down his cheek. “I’m sorry. But you let me down when I needed you. And I don’t think I can risk that happening again.”

Clarke swallows the bile that has risen up in her throat. She wants to scream. He’s acting like this is all her fault. Well, fuck him. He’s made up his mind, and she won’t degrade herself by begging any further. She lifts her chin defiantly. “Fine,” she spits. “Go. I hope you and Echo have a very happy life together.”

And then he walks out the door. Clarke sinks to the floor, chest heaving, crying harder than she’s ever cried before.

#bellarke #bellarke fanfiction #the 100 #the 100 fanfiction #mine

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hecallsmeworthy-blog · 7 years ago

Text

My journey with Jesus in a nutshell

Thinking about my story with Jesus always brings tears to my eyes. Tears of thankfulness and appreciation of what he has done for me.

Looking back now I am still amazed of how He made everything new, but let me start at the beginning.

I was born and raised as the third daughter out of four by a wonderful woman married to a loving pastor. Growing up, faith was always around. Until twenty years ago we used to even live in church, it was just ever present.

The prodigal daughter

Up until my 20th birthday I lived at home and going to church and saying I’m a Christian just came naturally to me. When I left home to live in another city for my studies, everything started changing. It was such a slow process though that I didn’t really realize what was happening until I realized that the life I lived and what I had learned during my childhood years didn’t match at all.

When I moved I looked for a new church pretty soon and I found one where I loved the sermons, but felt like the people sitting there listening weren’t living what was said. I went there alone several times over the years and not once did anybody come and talk to me or ask who I was. So, as young and clueless as I was, I just stayed away. There was a youth group at uni, but I always felt like the people who went there were so far away and were judging the way I lived and the people I spent time with, so after a while, I stopped going there too.

I was in a really unhealthy relationship at that time with a young man who was a Christian but hadn’t really figured out who he was yet. He felt rejected by the world and misunderstood by many, so he started drinking too much alcohol and smoking drugs. I felt so sorry for him and wanted to help, but just got sucked deeper into his mess over time. My family realized pretty quickly that the relationship wasn’t good for me – I lost an unhealthy amount of weight and my happiness during that time – but I didn’t want to hear what they said and so I distanced myself from them instead of him. I often felt lonely and misunderstood.

In an effort to make everything easier and save my relationship with him, I gave in and we started sleeping with each other, even though it was against everything I had ever wanted. From that point on things only got worse. I still don’t know how – it was probably God speaking to me - but one day I just knew that things couldn’t go on as they were. So we broke up. The breakup was followed by months of him calling me 50 times a day and standing in front of my door out of the blue or following me when I was meeting friends. I was horrified.

During that time I was working as a waitress and he showed up there and ordered shots at 10 am in the morning just to let me know how miserable he was. At work I met a young Brazilian. He was smart, funny and handsome. And it didn’t take long until I was sleeping with him. I knew that it was wrong but silenced the voices in my head.

Five months later I left home to study at a college abroad. The following four months could probably be compared to what the prodigal son experienced after he left his father’s house. To keep it short, a lot of alcohol and a lot of sinful behaviour were involved.

When I got back home, I felt so empty. I felt like I had lost myself. Left parts of myself in other parts of the world. I felt a void that apparently noone or nothing could ever fill and I had such a desire to be close to God again, but it felt like he was a thousand miles away. And there were these voices telling me that I wasn’t worthy of being his daughter anymore. That it was too late to turn back to him. That he had had enough and that after everything I had done noone would ever love me. I went to a doctor who prescribed medicine to help me sleep and told me to start going to therapy. Life just didn’t make sense anymore.

Transition!?

I kept partying to fill the void and somehow have a sense of belonging. Six months later me and two friends went to my parent’s house to spend a weekend there as they were out of town. Of course, we went partying in the evening. I could write books about this evening, but to keep it short: amazingly enough I met my future husband that night. This is when everything started going into the right direction again.

We got engaged after ten months and got married one and a half years later. When my husband asked my dad if he could marry me, his answer was: Yes, but there is no Lea without Jesus.

This sentence was so significant to me because I felt so far away from Jesus at the time. Even though my husband was quite open and curious about God, he wasn’t a Christian at the time either.

When we got married we started looking for a church right away. We found one but didn’t really feel at home because there were no people our age around.

And then one day the letter arrived, stating that we would have to move because of my workplace. We looked at the city on a map and had no idea what to do.

Struggles

Two months after moving we found a new church. After four weeks my husband said that he wanted to buy himself a new bible and we just knew that we belonged there. We got to know some amazing people and our – now – spiritual parents as well. Things started to change slowly.

Still I was under such a heavy pressure at work that I started having panic attacks. I constantly felt anxious, I couldn’t sleep properly and I remember sitting in the bathroom every other day trying not to throw up because of all the pressure I was feeling. I felt worthless, stupid and incapable of doing life. I told my husband that it didn’t matter if I was still there or just jumped off the balcony.

Another year later, I was already used to having a bloated stomach, looking like I was five months pregnant even though I wasn’t and just feeling sick all the time. But it kept getting worse. I had a high fever, couldn’t even walk and I knew deep in my heart that if God wouldn’t help me, I was going to die. A friend brought me to the doctor’s, but without even taking a closer look, she sent me home saying I was just suffering from a gastrointestinal virus. I went home crying because I knew that wasn’t it. When I went to the hospital with almost the same symptoms a month later, the doctors couldn’t find anything. So I went home and went down on my knees, begging the Lord to save me. That’s when he made a promise to give me a long life through the amazing words of Psalm 91.

A second chance

I promised myself that I would go to the doctors again the following Monday if I didn’t feel any better. On Monday I collapsed at work. I was taken to the hospital and told again, that my blood levels were absolutely normal and the ultrasound didn’t show any abnormalities either. Still, they wanted me to stay.

As I was lying in the hospital bed I prayed again for the Lord to give the doctors wisdom so they would know what to do. That’s when God said: „There is something hidden in the darkness, but it’ll come to light. Trust me.“

Hours later the doctors decided to perform a surgery and find out if there was something wrong with my appendix, even though they expected everything to be completely normal. They forgot to give me the tranquilizers before surgery and so I was pretty nervous when they put me on the stretcher to bring me to the anesthesia room.

As the nurse was pushing the stretcher through the corridor, I saw what looked like a luminated person at the end of the hallway pointing towards the room we drove in seconds later. I heard in my heart that everything was going to be okay. Minutes later I fell asleep praying.

When I woke up hours later, I had no idea what had happened. The doctor came in and looked at me in awe. He then continued to tell me that me being alive was a miracle. My appendix had been severely inflamed and grown to a size four times bigger than normal. A part of my colon also had to be taken out because of a serious infection. Later that day a nurse told me that any minute longer could have been too late.

I cried all night because I knew that God had given me a second chance. And my life hasn’t been the same since.

To be continued…

#jesus christianlife daughteroftheking hecallsmeworthy

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