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teenwolffan-with-nolife · 3 years ago

Text

New Life Pt.7

Word Count: 2,165

Characters: Derek Hale, Laura Hale, Zach Salvatore, Damon Salvatore, Stefan Salvatore, Grayson Gilbert (brief), OC Characters, Reader

Pairings: Eventual Derek Hale x Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, near-death, possible slight cliffhanger

A/N: jesus fuck im letting my life go to hell when im not writing im watching shameless i’ve lost all of my friends this isn’t a cry for help :)

A/N 2: I think i’m gonna open requests again i need more inspo

Masterlist Series Masterlist

“What the hell are you doing here?” you aimed your gun at him, moving backward.

“Put that down, (Y/N). Do you even know how to use it?” Jay scoffed, walking around you while you continued pointing your gun at him.

“Why are you here?” you asked again.

“A lot of reasons. You already look like you’re handling a lot, so I think it’s best for both of us if I leave for a little? Put this little plan on pause?”

You could feel your heart rate quickening as he continued to walk to you, before stopping in front of you.

“I'm gonna kill you,” you spat.

“Get your revenge on me, but make sure it’s a fair battle. As you can clearly see, I’m unarmed.”

“You have powers. You’re not human.”

“Then I won’t use them. Do you want to have this fight with me when one of your friends is on the brink of death?”

Derek came back to your mind as you lowered your gun.

“That’s what I thought. Here,” he tossed you your phone as you tensed up.

“You-”

“Yeah, I don’t need it anymore. I’ll see you in a bit,” he winked at you before walking away.

Your entire body was shaking as you stood outside the Salvatore House, breathing in shaky breaths before you shook your head, entering the house.

Be calm

“Where’s Derek?” you asked.

“In his room,” Stefan replied.

Zach and him were walking around, while you saw Zach carrying weapons.

You sighed, making your way up the stairs to Derek’s room. Laura sat with him, holding his hand while he laid unconscious on the bed. He had an EKG next to him. You could see the burns on his body as you tensed, slowly walking to Laura. She wiped her tears, before looking up at you.

“Damon did…” her voice broke as she stopped herself.

You wrapped your arms around her tightly, while she hugged you back.

“Why isn't he healing?” you asked softly.

“Fire, Silver, and Wolfsbane are our weaknesses. If he wakes up, he can heal. But I don’t know if he’s gonna wake up.”

“We need to take him to the hospital,” you replied.

“No, they’re going to have questions about it, and then if he wakes up and heals-”

“I know a doctor that works at the hospital. He knows about the supernatural, he and his wife are members of the supernatural council. Derek’s innocent, they won’t hurt him,” Laura’s face was filled with worry.

“We can’t do much here. You can only heal him so much without losing your alpha status,” she nodded her head, agreeing before walking to Zach and Stefan.

Tears rushed to your eyes in an instant as you looked down at Derek’s body, stroking his cheek. There was a look of discomfort on his face.

“You need to wake up, you idiot,” you held back your cries as you pressed a small kiss to his forehead.

“Please wake up.”

---

“Thank you for helping us, Doctor Grayson,” he smiled, before walking away from you.

“You’re quiet,” Zach stood next to you as you shook your head.

“Have you heard anything from Stefan?” you asked.

Zach shook his head, before putting his hand on your shoulder.

“What's going on?” he frowned.

You could feel your heart rate increasing as sniffled softly.

“Can we talk about this later?”

His face softened as he nodded.

“I’m gonna go check on Derek.” you nodded before he walked away.

You heard your phone ringing, as you frowned.

“Stefan, what is it?”

“I need you back here. For whatever reason, Damon’s going after you to get back at me and Zach. Derek’s already hurt, he’s gonna get you too,” you could hear the pain in his voice as you softened.

“What’s the problem then?” you asked.

“You need to be under lockdown. It’s too risky for you to be at the hospital right now.”

“I can’t just leave. Derek’s…”

“We can’t do anything about him right now. The best you can do is stay hidden.”

You felt your eyes water slightly. You were useless, there was nothing you could do to help anyone. You were weak, the only thing you could do was hide.

“(Y/N), please come back,” Stefan begged.

“Okay,” your voice was barely above a whisper.

You ended the call, before walking to Zach. Your chest was aching, you felt like your heart was about to jump out of your body.

“Stefan wants me to come home. He thinks it’ll be safer,” you said softly.

Zach and Laura nodded, before you gave them a quick hug.

You pressed a small kiss to Derek's head, before walking away.

“Excuse me,” you jumped, seeing Damon behind you.

“Hey,” you grabbed your gun, aiming it at him.

“If you shoot me, your little friend is gonna die. You won’t be able to save him,” Damon taunted.

“What do you mean?” you frowned slightly.

“The one who’s out of your league. He’s more on the annoying side. Come with me and I’ll let him go, deal?” you quickly nodded, tossing your gun aside before taking off with Damon.

---

“Why are you doing this?” the two of you stood on top of a building, while he held onto your arm tightly.

“It isn't fair that I had to suffer because of Stefan and now I’m the bad guy,” Damon shrugged.

“Isn’t fair? You set Derek on fire,” you yelled.

“Who’s fault is it for having a box of lighters in the basement? You should've seen the look on his face. He was terrified,” you heard Damon laughing as you dug your nails into your palm.

“Stefan's the villain in your story, but to everyone else, he’s the hero. He’s done more good than you’ll ever do. Deep down you’re jealous of him. Stefan has people in his life who care about him and you have no one!” Damon put his hand around your neck, lifting you off the floor.

You took it to your advantage, kicking his stomach as he doubled over, stumbling back a few steps.

He ran back to you, grabbing your arm before you twisted his arm backward, pulling it until you heard the noise of something snapping. He yelled out in pain before he pulled you, pushing you to the floor.

“You’re really gonna die now,” you were slightly out of breath before pushing yourself up.

Damon used his speed, pushing you down once again before coming on top of you. You tried to push him off before he held you down with his other arm. It must have healed already. You felt him press down on your chest, instantly feeling burning. You gasped for air, feeling immense pain. His hand entered your chest slowly as you cried out in pain, trying to push him away.

“Stefan got everything. He left me,” you could see Damon's eyes water as your face softened.

He wasn't the bad guy, he was jealous of Stefan and he was lonely.

“If you kill me then you lose Stefan forever. Is that what you really want?” your voice was strained as he pressed into your chest. You could feel your blood dripping down his fingers.

“Shut up,” you could see his eyes darken, veins surrounding them.

“Stefan will hate you. Forever. That’s not what you want,” you said.

He put his hand around your throat, pulling you up as you struggled for your breath. You felt a sharp pain in your leg, feeling it hit the cement with intense pressure.

He pushed you down, your back hitting the edge of the roof as your head dangled from it.

“You don’t know anything. You stupid, useless kid. If Stefan cared about you, he would be here,” Damon spat.

“If you believe that then kill me,” he continued to press on your throat, your vision fading in and out as you felt the air leaving your body.

He let go of your throat, while you took a big breath in, before he pushed you down, feeling your head hit the ground as you fell unconscious.

---

You blinked your eyes, feeling your head aching as you winced, rubbing it. You looked at your hands, seeing the blood from your head as you sighed, standing up slowly, using the ledge of the building for support.

Damon was nowhere to be found, you knew your words meant something to him. He was gone. You looked at your phone screen, seeing messages and calls from Stefan, Zach, and Laura.

You called Zach, as he picked up on the first ring.

“Where are you? Are you okay? We've been trying to call you for so long!” you heard Zach yell.

“Is that (Y/N)?” you heard Stefan’s voice in the background.

“I’m okay. Damon's gone,” you said.

“What do you mean gone? What happened?” Zach asked.

“I’ll tell you in a bit. I’m coming home now,” you started.

“We’re at the hospital. Derek woke up,” you let out a shaky breath, feeling relief in your chest.

“God. Okay, I’m on my way. Don’t leave,” you hung up the phone, feeling your leg aching as you tried to walk.

Son of a bitch

You limped slowly, making your way down the stairs of the building.

---

You entered the waiting room, walking to the desk before hearing Stefan’s voice. Zach and Stefan ran to you, all worried as they examined your wounds. They could see the blood on your shirt, your wound dripping slightly.

“What the hell happened? You’re limping,” Zach pointed out.

“It’s okay. It doesn't hurt that much,” you shook your head.

“God, I’m so sorry,” Stefan said softly, wrapping his arms around you.

“It’s not your fault,” you replied.

“What are these marks?” Zach examined the wounds on your neck from Damon strangling you.

“I’ll tell you later. You said Derek’s awake, right?” you asked.

Stefan nodded, before putting his hand on your shoulder.

“Take some of my blood,” he said.

“Not right now,” you said.

“(Y/N)-”

“I want to see Derek,” you stopped him.

Zach sighed, before nodding his head.

“We need to talk about a lot of things when we get home, okay?” you nodded, before Stefan held your arm, walking you to the room.

“Stefan, what did you do to Damon?” you asked softly.

You saw his face drop before he looked down.

“When I turned into a vampire, I forced him to feed. I didn’t want to be alone.”

“Well, he’s alone right now. That’s why he tried to kill me. He misses you, whether he wants to admit it or not.”

He frowned, before looking down at you.

“Since when are you so sentimental?”

Since my ex is back in town probably to murder me

“Shut up,” you pushed him slightly, before groaning as he pulled on your arm.

“Well, I’ll leave you two alone. Laura’s getting Derek something to eat, she’ll be back in a bit,” you nodded, entering Derek’s room.

He was awake, a wide grin on his face.

“Hi,” he said.

You scoffed, shaking your head.

“You look like such a dork,” you said.

“And you look worse than me. And I’m the one in the hospital bed,” you walked over to him, seeing he was healed up.

“Why are you still in bed if you’re healed?” you asked.

“Well, Doctor Grayson said that even though I’m healed, he wanted me to spend the night so no one else gets suspicious. How do they all know about the supernatural?”

“Well, Mystic Falls was basically built from witches and vampires. If there was a vampire in town, then they’d be on edge. But, a family from the council, the Lockwoods, are werewolves. They think when and if a war comes, wolves will side with them against vampires.”

“That’s bullshit,” Derek scoffed.

“Yeah, you’re telling me,” you laughed.

You stroked Derek’s cheek, while he closed his eyes, leaning into your hand.

“I’m glad you’re not dead,” you said softly.

“Yeah, right back at you,” he smiled softly.

You punched his arm, while he groaned.

“What the hell?” he exclaimed.

“Now that Damon’s gone… what the hell are you thinking going out with Emily? Dean and her were together, Dean is like your only friend here!” you hissed.

“He said he was cool with it! Emily asked me out, okay?!”

“That’s messed up, dude,” you shook your head.

“Oh, shut up,” he rolled his eyes.

You felt yourself at peace, keeping your mind on your friends.

“Well, I’m not going home until you are, so I’m crashing on the chair,” you motioned to the chair next to his bed.

“Going to sleep? You’re boring,” Derek teased.

“Yeah, whatever. See you in the morning, loser,” you laid back in the chair, kicking your feet up to his bed as he scoffed, before laying back on the bed:

“See you in the morning, (Y/N/N),” you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath before letting yourself fall asleep.

Taglist: @bellabadacadabra @teen-wolf-obsessed4life @eunoia-kth @angeltzdar @shortimaginewriter @linkpk88

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earliebirb · 4 years ago

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say your name like a prayer

steve/tony, au: mob, hurt/comfort, established relationship, 3005 words

From behind him, Steve hears the sound of the door opening and closing.

He dog-ears a page from the book he was reading to mark his spot, but otherwise doesn’t bother getting up from his chair or turning around to look. There are only three people in the world that can enter a room with Steve Rogers inside without knocking and leave unscathed.

At the moment, one of them is already inside the room with him. The remaining two are the only people that can make it through the twenty-five men Steve has stationed throughout the hospital floor, the only two people on the clearance list approved by him.

Three people, if one were to count Helen Cho, the doctor Steve has personally handpicked to oversee everything.

After all, Steve wouldn’t leave Tony’s care in the hands of just anybody. Helen is unfalteringly loyal to him—has been, ever since Steve took her under his wing ten years ago and paid off her family’s debts.

Only a select number of people are aware of her true loyalties, of course.

The rest of the hospital staff won’t be able to make it through his men without thorough searching and his explicit permission, barring any medical emergencies.

Stationing his men throughout the floor wasn’t difficult to set up, considering the fact that his men have infiltrated various institutions, his network stretching over almost every single industry imaginable, including the medical field.

“I brought you the extra blankets you asked for.”

“Leave them on the armchair by the door,” Steve orders, eyes fixated on the motion of his own thumb, moving in repeated one-way strokes across the ridges of Tony’s knuckles.

He hears some quiet shuffling, but when he doesn’t hear the sound of the door being opened and closed, he asks, “And why aren’t you leaving?”

Thumb not once faltering in its methodical stroking, Steve’s eyes travel up Tony’s wrist. His gaze lingers on the ugly mottles of black and blue forming a loosely connected ring around its circumference. Both of Tony’s wrists had been tied behind his back, rope pulled tight with enough force to bruise.

“Boss— Steve. People are starting to talk. It’s been some time since you attended a meeting. They think you’re… unwell. I’m afraid further absence will cause something bigger than just flimsy rumors. I think it’s time that—”

His thumb stills.

“Get out,” he says, and to people who are not familiar with him, his voice is low enough to be mistaken as a request.

Bucky knows better, though. Should know better.

Steve is not asking.

“Steve—” Bucky tries anyway, and Steve clenches his jaw.

“Barnes,” he barks out.

Steve hears his right hand man immediately go quiet at the invocation of his last name, the very usage of it a scalding reprehension that kills any argument he might have thought to bring forward.

“I’ve made it very clear that in my absence you are to act as my proxy, have I not?” Steve asks, speech measured.

“Yes, Boss.”

“Then that’s all you need to worry about.” Steve goes quiet after that, letting his answer sink in. The pregnant silence stretches out for a few moments, the air between them growing almost suffocating with tension. “Now, if you don’t have anything actually important to talk about, leave.”

Steve stares at the frail figure lying on the hospital bed, looking even smaller than usual in a loose-fitting hospital gown. Tony’s pallid complexion and state of restful sleep are even more jarring when juxtaposed with his usual lively demeanor—full of vigor and always ready with a witty remark. His right eye is a dark blue and purple mess, swollen shut. Sutures hold together a cut on the left corner of his upper lip.

This is everything he never wanted. His biggest fear materializing right before his own two eyes.

This is exactly what Steve had warned Tony of. Once Tony was in, he was in for the long haul. There was no going back from this, no ordinary life to return to once he was well and truly involved with Steve.

When Steve had voiced his concerns, Tony kissed him in lieu of a reply.

Because Steve had always been weak and selfish when it came to Tony, he decided to keep him. He decided right there and then, that if he didn’t have the strength to turn Tony away, then he would pour his everything into protecting Tony instead.

Clearly, his everything wasn’t enough. Maybe it would never be enough. Perhaps, in some ways, this outcome has always been inevitable.

That doesn’t mean that it doesn’t make Steve’s blood boil and his bile threaten to rise up to his throat.

Heart twisting with worry, he closes his eyes. He inhales and holds his breath, trying his best to focus on the slow and steady beeping of the EKG machine in the background, like the room’s own heartbeat.

A grounding reminder that Tony is still alive and breathing. That he is safe now, right in front of Steve, within arm’s reach.

“You’re disturbing his rest,” Steve says, clipped tone brooking no further argument.

It takes a minute, but eventually Bucky does leave.

Steve gets up to gather the blankets on the armchair. He covers Tony’s body with one of the blankets, providing an extra layer of warmth on top of the sheets already covering him, making sure to leave Tony’s arms resting on top of the layers. He wraps another blanket around Tony’s bare feet, hoping it would keep them warm. He knows how much Tony hates having cold feet.

“Sorry for the intrusion, sweetheart.” He leans down to press a kiss to Tony’s bandaged forehead, careful and tender. Sitting down in his chair, he opens the paperback copy of 1984 to the previously dog-eared page. He keeps the book open with one hand while the other takes hold of Tony’s, squeezing it to feel what little warmth is left to comfort him.

“Now, where were we?”

***

Sixteen days since he was admitted into the hospital, Tony wakes up.

He comes to gradually, eyes opening and closing periodically. The first time Steve catches Tony opening his eyes, he struggles to breathe through the wave of sheer relief and calls out Tony’s name with his heart in his throat. Tony gives him no reply, blinks once, twice, and drifts back into sleep.

Tony continues to slip in and out of consciousness for what seems like eternity.

Throughout it all, Steve never lets go of his hand.

Hours later, Tony lets out his first coherent word in over two weeks:

“Steve?” Tony’s voice is more breath than sound.

“I’m here, sweetheart,” Steve whispers, a tight knot loosening in his chest. He squeezes Tony’s hand reassuringly.

Tony blinks wordlessly at Steve, looking like he is trying to map Steve’s features with his eyes. The bandage around his head has been removed a few days prior, allowing Steve to brush his hair away from his forehead with the knuckles of his fingers.

At this, Tony swallows. He blinks once more, slow and languid, before closing his eyes with a weary sigh and falling back asleep.

The next time Tony regains consciousness, he spends some time looking his fill of Steve before registering his surroundings, eyes darting around the room.

“Where?” he croaks.

“Hospital,” Steve answers. Tony takes in the answer quietly.

“Steve,” Tony says. “I’m tired.”

“Go back to sleep, sweetheart.” Steve lifts Tony’s hand, holding it against his own face. The warmth of Tony’s calloused palm seeps into Steve’s cheek, solid and comforting.

The lines of Tony’s face soften almost imperceptibly, brown eyes gazing at him softly.

“Steve,” he breathes, eyelids growing heavy.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t leave.”

Steve swallows around a lump in his throat and turns to press a long kiss to the center of Tony’s palm.

“I won’t, sweetheart. I’ll stay right here,” he promises.

Sometime during the long hours of his continuous effort to remain vigilant, Steve’s exhaustion catches up to him and without meaning to, he falls asleep.

***

At first, Steve thinks he is still dreaming in his sleep. He had fallen asleep with his cheek against the sheets, hand holding Tony’s. The next thing he registers in his slow drift back to consciousness is the feeling of fingers carding through his hair repeatedly. He squeezes his eyes shut, determined to stay asleep.

Then he feels the same fingers wander down to his unkempt beard and he hears an amused huff of breath.

The pad of a thumb presses the corner of his mouth gently. “I know you’re awake.”

Steve stills. Ever so slowly, he lets his eyes flutter open. It takes him a while to convince himself that Tony is indeed wide awake and that the fingers on his face are very much warm and real.

When he straightens up in his seat, his back muscles protest after having been bent at an unnatural angle for the past few hours in his slumber.

“Hey there, Sleeping Beauty.” Tony’s soft smile greets him, eyes crinkling at the corners. Steve stares at him with wide, unblinking eyes and finds it impossible to return his smile.

“You’re awake,” he says instead, voice gravelly with the last remnants of sleep. Tony looks significantly better, like life has flooded back into him. Absently, Steve notes the new presence of a glass of water on the hospital nightstand, a straw sitting in it.

“Since around two hours ago. Helen even came by to check up on me.”

Steve bristles. “Why didn’t—”

“Shhh. It’s okay.” Tony’s fingers curl around his wrist, giving it a gentle squeeze and killing Steve’s anger before it has a chance to rise. “I told her not to wake you.”

“You look dead on your feet, Steven,” Tony says. Steve’s chest grows tight at the familiar way in which Tony says his full given name, a soft and fond cadence to his voice that turns the word into a personal form of endearment.

Tony’s brown eyes are fraught with worry. It’s all ridiculously outrageous but so painfully Tony. He has only been awake for a few hours and already treating his own condition with well-practiced flippancy, worrying about Steve like Steve is the one who just woke up from a two-week-long coma.

Steve’s mouth twists. He swallows audibly, eyebrows furrowing in an effort to stave off the tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. He directs his blurry gaze down at the hospital bed, upset and ashamed.

Tony’s fingers slide over his fist, which Steve has just realized is clenched tight around a handful of bed sheets, knuckles turning white.

“I’m here, my darling. I’m right here. I’m okay.”

Unable to hold back for another second, Steve stands up and gathers Tony in his arms carefully, mindful of his injuries. He lets out a long and relieved breath before pressing kisses to the crown of his head. Tony buries his face in the crook of Steve’s neck and inhales deeply.

“You stay. You stay right here,” Steve chokes, voice splintering.

“Not going anywhere,” Tony murmurs, pressing a kiss to the column of Steve’s throat. He slips his hands under Steve’s shirt, fingers gliding across his ribs, inches away from where he knows the initials of his own name are tattooed vertically down Steve’s breastbone.

“Is it just me or did you lose weight? Have you been eating properly? And don’t even try lying to me ‘cause you know I can totally ask Bucky or Sam and they’ll tell me the truth, Rogers.”

Steve’s hand slides up to cradle the back of Tony’s head. Tony is warm, he is so much warmer now. Tony is okay. He presses another grateful kiss into Tony’s hair, eyes shut in silent prayer to whatever deity is kind enough to deliver Tony back to him.

“I’m never letting you go anywhere without my men ever again,” Steve whispers.

Tony huffs, leaning back to look up at Steve and trusting Steve’s hand to take the weight of his head. “I’m okay, sweetheart. I’m right here, with you. Besides, no one saw it coming, okay? It’s not—”

Tony breaks off abruptly with a soft grunt, hand reaching up in an aborted motion to touch his own head. Steve pulls back in alarm.

“Sweetheart? What’s wrong?” Steve hears his own voice turning even more hushed, panic wrapping tight like a vice around his vocal chords. “Do I need to call Helen? Hold on, I’ll—”

Tony catches his arm before he can press the button to alert the hospital staff, bringing it down.

“Does it hurt, Tony? Tell me the truth.”

Tony shakes his head, eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Tony breathes. He leans forward to rest his forehead against Steve’s shoulder. Steve hears him inhaling deeply before letting the air leave his lungs in one long and tremulous sigh.

“Let me get Helen just in case—”

“I’m fine,” Tony says breathlessly, pulling back with his eyes still closed, “just let me catch my breath.”

“Okay. Okay. Get some rest.” Steve plants one last kiss to his temple before sitting back down in his chair, hand holding Tony’s. “If anything hurts, tell me.”

Tony nods and continues to focus on taking deep, long breaths, sinking back into his pillow. Eventually, he swallows, eyelids fluttering open again. He lets his head loll slightly off to the side on the pillow, eyes roving over Steve’s face.

“I suppose I shouldn’t ask what happened to the people that took me?”

For a split second, something cold and hard lodges itself in the pit of Steve’s stomach and his grip on Tony’s hand tightens ever so slightly. He concentrates on the sight of Tony’s kind, brown eyes trained on him and the cold subsides, warmth trickling back in. He brings Tony’s hand up to his mouth.

“Yeah,” he whispers, lips brushing Tony’s knuckles, “you probably shouldn’t.”

He doesn’t say what Tony already knows—that he would give Tony every single detail of what he has done to them without even a moment’s hesitation if Tony really did want to know. Steve will tell him anything and everything he wants to know, because he keeps no secrets from Tony.

Tony studies him for a long moment. Steve is unable to make out the thoughts running through Tony’s head, but his eyes stay warm and kind as they gaze at Steve through the companionable silence. When Tony pulls his hand away from Steve’s grip, it is to tuck a lock of Steve’s long and overgrown blond hair behind his ear.

Something shifts in his honey-brown eyes, like a puzzle piece sliding into place, and his hand cups Steve’s cheek, palm pressing against the bristles of Steve’s beard.

“Climb into bed,” Tony says. “You need to rest and I need to be held.”

Steve ends up holding Tony close as he sleeps, arm secure around his waist. Contentment washes over him as he indulges in the warmth of Tony’s back pressed up against his chest. He takes his time in trailing light kisses from the back of Tony’s ear down to his nape, ending with a reverent kiss to the eagle tattooed on the back of Tony’s neck—a well-known insignia bestowed only to the inner circle members of Steve’s organization.

Tony’s tattoo has a distinctive characteristic that distinguishes itself from the eagle tattoos given to the other members. Whereas the eagle tattoos decorating the necks of the other inner circle members are simply black in color, the wings of Tony’s eagle have red and gold feathers interspersed with the black. It was an idea proposed by their resident tattoo artist, Clint, intended as an extra measure of protection.

Most people in Brooklyn and the surrounding boroughs know to look out for the eagle insignia, because it is in their best interests to avoid an altercation with one of the Captain’s inner circle people.

People also know, however, to look out for the eagle with red and gold feathers in particular, because finding someone with that symbol tattooed on the back of their neck means you are dealing with the Tony Stark, and messing with Tony Stark is a guaranteed death sentence.

Everyone knows you don’t touch the Captain’s beloved.

Still, Steve thinks grimly, some idiots try.

Sam and Bucky had offered to finish them off for Steve, but as far as Steve is concerned, people who don’t possess the common sense to not lay a finger on Tony don’t deserve the mercy of a swift death.

Steve knew that he needed to deal with them himself, for his own peace of mind.

So, he had brought out the toolbox—the one he usually only brings out for special occasions—and spent a few gratifying hours in a secluded warehouse with the two men who had orchestrated Tony’s abduction. From pliers to knives of varying sizes, he took his time to find out which ones worked best, which tools were the most effective in eliciting screams from the men. With his own two hands, he made sure that they paid for their sins.

Maybe he shouldn’t, but he finds comfort in the thought of those dismembered corpses sinking down to the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean.

In his line of work, Steve has cultivated a moral compass of his own. He has always marched to the beat of his own drum, other people be damned.

He is definitely not going to start developing scruples now, and especially not for protecting the one thing that he can’t live without—the only person on earth whose thoughts and well-being he puts before himself, before everything else.

With his power and status, there are no guarantees in the life he leads. Loyalties are fickle and ever-changing. Rules are bent and broken. Lives are lost on a near daily basis.

Well, no guarantees but one: Tony Stark will always come first. No matter what, no matter who, no matter when.

Always.

Even if Steve had to burn down the entire world to keep him safe and sound.

#stevetony #stevetony fic #stony #stony fic #superhusbands #steve/tony #steve x tony #mine #earl wrote something

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macgyvermedical · 4 years ago

Note

So the hero in my fanfic just stuck a metal objec in a power socket in a hospital, but was immediately found unconscious by a doctor. Doctor starts CPR, and to spruce up the whump I want to add a shot of adrenaline in the thigh to help start his heart. But when I'm researching if this is an accurate way to resuscitate someone, I see a lot of "Yes, BUT..." and now I'm uncertain if this is big no-no... Is it okay to use adrenaline in order to get an unconscious person's heart to start up again?

The short answer is yes, but it’s definitely more complicated than that.

Let’s start with those electrical injuries. Electricity can harm a human in three main ways. The first is that electrical energy becomes thermal energy in the person’s tissues, causing burns. The second is that muscles rely on very measured electrical impulses to function and if these impulses are overwhelmed by a lot of electricity all at once, they can contract so strongly they break bones or prevent someone from letting go of what is electrocuting them. The third is that the heart’s rhythm is also controlled via small electrical impulses. If a lot of electricity goes through the heart at the wrong part of one of those impulses, it can throw the person into an ineffective heart rhythm called ventricular fibrillation. Ventricular fibrillation does not effectively push blood through the blood vessels (a condition called cardiac arrest), which can quickly cause death.

The kind of electricity your character would have encountered is called Alternating Current (AC). AC is generated by moving electrons back and forth through a circuit quickly- about 60 back-forth cycles per second in the US. This is the kind of current that exists in power outlets (vs Direct Current (DC) which exists in batteries and lightning and moves only in one direction through a circuit).

Alternating current is particularly dangerous for a few reasons:

The first is that it is more likely to cause that strong contraction of muscle (vs DC which is more likely to throw people away from its source). While the voltage coming out of a standard outlet will not often be enough to break bones due to strong muscle contractions, it will make it impossible to let go if a person accidentally grabs hold of an object with AC running through it. It also means the person will be stuck there with electricity pumping through them until the breaker or fuse trips, whether they pass out or not.

The second is that, since AC cycles 60 times per second, it is pretty likely that one of those cycles will fall at a bad time during a heartbeat, causing that ventricular fibrillation/cardiac arrest I talked about earlier. Unfortunately (or fortunately for your story), it often takes longer to trip a breaker than it does to cause cardiac arrest (though if the breaker trips, the person coming to rescue your character will be safe from getting electrocuted themselves).

So, essentially, it is perfectly reasonable that your character would suffer burns to their hands, maybe some minor musculoskeletal injuries from the muscle contractions, and be unconscious and in cardiac arrest when found by the doc.

Now let’s talk about how medical professionals would approach this situation in a hospital.

Not all people who are unconscious are in cardiac arrest. A doctor (or really anyone who works in a hospital from a nursing assistant or dietary aide to a nurse or doc) who walks into a hospital room and sees a patient on the floor will first do a really quick assessment to determine if the person needs CPR- they’ll first try to wake the patient up by shouting at them and, if that doesn’t work, by pushing their knuckles into the person’s chest (called a sternal rub). If this doesn’t work, they’ll tip the patient’s head back and check for a patent airway (can air move in and out of the person’s nose/mouth?), check if the person is breathing (are they actually moving air into and out of their lungs?), and check for circulation (does the patient have a pulse in their neck?). If no breathing or pulse, the doc would call a Code Blue (by either pressing a button on the wall or yelling out the door) and start CPR.

Almost everyone in a hospital has taken a class called BLS, or Basic Life Support. This is essentially CPR designed for a hospital environment. It’s 30 compressions to 2 breaths just like it is everywhere else, but the breaths are usually given with a bag-valve-mask device (BVM) and BLS assumes there are more trained people in the room than your typical CPR-in-the-community scenario. BLS also allows anyone with training to operate a defibrillator on automatic (AED) mode.

Often, as soon as another person enters the room (usually a nurse or nursing assistant- though a lot of people will come running when a code blue is called), that person will take over compressions and another will sit at the patient’s head and give them breaths with a bag-valve-mask device. This frees the doc, as the highest-ranking medical professional in the room, to run the “code”.

Doctors, paramedics, respiratory therapists, and many nurses have a higher level of training for cardiac arrests called ACLS, or Advanced Cardiac Life Support. In ACLS, it is assumed that the equipment is available to intubate a person (put a tube down their throat to deliver breaths more effectively), give drugs and fluids through an IV, and manually set a defibrillator to the best needs of the patient.

We use the term “cardiac arrest” to describe any time the heart is not beating in a way that can support life. This can either be that it is not beating at all and has no measurable electrical activity (asystole), beating too fast to fill with blood between beats (ventricular tachycardia), quivering and not moving blood (ventricular fibrillation), or the electrical activity is normal but the heart itself is under too much pressure to pump blood (pulseless electrical activity).

[Ventricular Fibrillation (top) vs normal sinus rhythm (bottom) on an EKG strip]

Your doc isn’t necessarily going to be able to tell which one of these is going on from feeling for a pulse. Fortunately, the first thing to do for any of these is to start CPR. While CPR is happening, someone (often a nurse, nursing assistant, or EKG tech) will get an EKG on the patient, someone (often a respiratory therapist) will be intubating them, someone (often a nurse) will be prepping medications and starting IVs if necessary, someone (often a nurse) will be setting up the defibrillator and putting pads on the patient’s chest, someone (often the patient’s nurse) will be giving report on the patient to the person running the code, and someone else will be writing down everything that’s going on including when each thing was ordered and done.

When the EKG is done, the doc would be able to identify that the cause of the cardiac arrest is the ventricular fibrillation. The ACLS-level treatment for ventricular fibrillation (as of 2016) is to do CPR, intubate, and provide oxygen and breaths through the ET tube, shock with the defibrillator as soon as possible (and if the first one doesn’t work, every 2 minutes thereafter), give 1mg of epinephrine (adrenaline) through the IV or 2mg through the ET tube every 3-5 minutes, and give another drug called amiodarone (or lidocaine based on the doc’s clinical judgement) after 2 shock cycles.

During this, the doc is trying to figure out what caused the rhythm and reverse it, though with electrical injury like this, there’s not a whole lot more they could do besides keep doing this until either the person’s heart goes back into a working rhythm, the heart goes into another rhythm warranting different treatment, or the doc decides it has been too long and there is little chance of the person surviving and calls time of death.

So it’s reasonable to give your character CPR and epinephrine, but the epi would be given through an IV during a fairly extensive and deliberate series of events. The good news is that since someone found them immediately and ventricular fibrillation is a shockable rhythm, they have a relatively very good chance of surviving this cardiac arrest.

#whump reference #writing reference #electricity #code blue #medical emergencies in a hospital

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elisaphoenix13 · 3 years ago

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Delusional (Ch.2)

He wished that he never went to Afghanistan. His brief trip turned into a three month nightmare, which he only escaped because of Scott. His kid was the sole reason he survived and he had been determined to get home. Thanks to Yinsen, he had been able to achieve his freedom, but it was at the cost of the other man's life. Even if he wanted to die to rejoin his family, it still weighed on Tony and gave his determination to get home to Scott a bigger boost.

By some miracle, Rhodey and a team were flying around looking for him in the middle of the desert and he was home within 24 hours. Of course he cleaned up a bit. He knew Scott would be waiting on the tarmac for him and didn't want his kid to see him beaten, bleeding, and bruised. The electromagnet in his chest would be bad enough.

"How is he?" Tony asks as the plane starts it's landing. "How's my kid?"

"Scott was…inconsolable for the first month." Rhodey answers. "Then suddenly, one day, he hunkered down in the lab and hacked everything he could think of to find you. I had to pull a lot of strings to keep him out of trouble...but he helped find you."

Tony nods. "Scotty's a force to be reckoned with. It's a good thing he doesn't like violence or the rest of the world would be in trouble."

"Speaking of, can you please tell him to stop changing the nuclear codes?"

"Even if I could, I wouldn't. He has the right idea. I should be taking a page out of his book for once."

Once the plane lands, Rhodey helps him to his feet as the ramp lowers, and then down to the tarmac where Happy, Pepper, and Scott are waiting. He saw Scott's disappointed look when Tony refused the gurney they had rolled over, but Tony didn't care. He walked straight over to the younger man and pulled him into a tight hug, sighing with relief. He never took Scott for granted, but he still missed the ridiculous cowlick in his hair and the way he smelled of oranges and...candy? Something told Tony that Scott's diet largely consisted of candy at least in the past few weeks.

"You smell like you could go for a cheeseburger too." Tony finally says and Scott looks at him incredulously.

"You've been missing for three months, assumed dead, and that's the first thing you say to me?" Scott frowns.

"What? You want me to drop to my knees and sob overdramatically about how much I missed you?" Tony asks and Scott makes a face. "Yeah. I didn't think so. So a cheeseburger and a press conference."

"A press conference?" Pepper asks, surprised as she gets in the car with the men. "You should go to the hospital-"

"Cheeseburger. And a press conference." Tony repeats firmly.

He left no room for argument and Pepper eventually relented and called whoever she needed to to get the press conference to happen. In the meantime, Tony wrapped an arm around Scott's shoulders and pulled him close, needing him to stay nearby. He needed the closeness, and for now he needed Scott to stay where he could see him. At least just for now. That was when Scott noticed the faint glow through his shirt and he sat up a little.

"Dad? What's that?" Scott reaches out and unbuttons the first few buttons before Tony can stop him and the younger male stares.

"I'll explain later alright? When we get home."

Fortunately, Scott nodded and let the subject drop and soon enough, Happy was passing a bag of Burger King back to them. Scott barely opened it and handed one to Tony before he was practically inhaling it, so his son decided to hand him his second one before getting his own. Tony was just opening his second one as the car pulled up to the building and Happy gets out and rounds the car to let them out. Everything up to the point of his announcement was a bit of a blur after that. He was tired, he hurt, and honestly he wanted to go home and fall into bed for a couple of days.

Seeing the look on Scott's face though? It made Tony absolutely sure of his decision to shut down the weapons department. They would find a new way for the company to thrive. And Tony was going to take a page from Scott's book like he should have the moment Stark Industries was his.

The Merchant of Death was no more.

======

One of the first things Tony did after he slept for 18 hours was go down to his lab and make an upgraded version of his mini arc reactor. Something more reliable that wasn't made from parts found in a cave and wouldn't remind him of the pain and torture he endured in those three months. It didn't take long for him to finish, but once he got himself hooked up to an EKG and sat himself in a chair, he realized his newest predicament.

His hands were too big.

"JARVIS? Where's Scott?" Tony asks. "Nevermind." He grabs his phone and video calls Scott. When the younger man answers, he sees him eating a sandwich. "Two things. Bring me a sandwich and come help me real quick."

"Sure."

The video call abruptly ends and in just a few minutes, Scott walks down to the lab with Tony's sandwich and walks over to him. He looks at all of the equipment around his father and then at the new arc reactor as he sets the plate down.

"You're not doing surgery on yourself are you?" Scott asks.

"Nope. You are." Tony says and Scott pales. "I'm kidding. Sort of. Let me see your hands."

Scott holds up his hands and Tony nods. They were definitely smaller than his. Small enough at least.

"Perfect. You're helping me replace this." Tony takes the old piece out of his chest and Scott watches in trepidation.

"What do you want me to do?" Scott asks.

"There's an exposed wire which is why I needed to replace it. Need you to pull it out without touching...just treat it like Operation. You liked that game."

"Yeah, when I was four and not pulling weird things out of my dad." Scott moves closer and reaches in anyway, making a face when his fingers squelch in the plasma. "Oh god. This is so gross and smells-"

"Yeah it does." Tony says with humor in his voice.

He tried warning Scott about the magnet at the end, but it was pulled out before he could finish his sentence and the machine beside him beeps in warning. Scott startles and looks at it, but Tony manages to get his attention again.

"Hey, don't worry about the machines. Put that down and take this." Tony says, giving Scott the new piece once his son puts the old one down. "Connect it to the plate-there you go." Tony praises and helps lock it into place. "All done. You did great. Thanks."

Scott grimaces and wipes his hands on a nearby rag. "Never ask me to do that again. Ask someone else to do it."

"I only have you kiddo." Tony says seriously and Scott looks at him before sighing and picking up the old arc reactor.

"What should I do with this?"

"Get rid of it. Destroy it... whatever." Tony shrugs and grabs his sandwich after pulling his shirt back on.

"You might need it for parts." Scott says and takes it over to an iron shelf to place with other discarded projects. "You'll thank me later."

"I doubt it."

Scott rolls his eyes and follows Tony over to his desk where he sits down and starts scrolling through some files until sending one over to the holotable. Blueprints of the iron suit he had made and escaped in. Ever since he got back, all he could think about was keeping Scott safe. And he figured he could do that with the suit. A properly upgraded one that wasn't clunky...but this would be for him. He was serious when he said he was shutting down the weapons department of the company, but he couldn't just sit back with this idea in his lap.

"What's that?" Scott asks.

"This," Tony starts, trashing parts of the blueprint in the Holo trash can. "Is how I escaped."

"Shall I upload this to the company server Sir?" JARVIS asks.

"No. Keep it in my private server. I don't know who I can trust right now."

"Not Obie." Scott grumbles and Tony looks over at him.

"What? Why?"

Scott shrugs. "I don't know. He was weirdly calm while you were missing...and he tried to give me a cheeseburger." When Tony gives him a confused look, he clarifies. "The bun had sesame seeds on it."

"He probably forgot or didn't realize." Tony says and looks back at the suit. "But noted."

He didn't want Scott to think he was brushing him off.

"Why are you making adjustments to that?" Scott asks, watching his father work.

"I'm making this for myself...and you in a way. It will give me peace of mind to know I have a way to protect you." Tony trashes another part and opens the arms of the suit.

"Dad-"

"Please." Tony says, stopping and looking at Scott again. "I'm not making weapons for the rest of the world anymore, but you can be damn well sure that I'm going to make armor to protect what's important to me."

Scott didn't argue further. Maybe because he realized how much Tony needed this. And even more surprising? He actually helped. Over the next week, he helped write the code JARVIS would need when they integrated him into the suit, and helped find screwdrivers that Tony misplaced. Tony liked having a project to do with Scott. It used to be cars since Scott refused to work with weapons, but now they had the suit.

And on some occasions Scott had to console DUM-E. Especially after Tony called him a tragedy. It wasn't his fault DUM-E couldn't follow simple directions.

Okay, maybe it was...a little.

"Okay. Got the camera rolling?" Tony asks Scott as he steps onto the testing area wearing the flight pieces of his suit.

"Yup...and DUM-E has the fire extinguisher as always." Scott answers and looks up from the camera.

"Alright." Tony readies his stance. "We'll start off with 10% thrust capacity and see if it gets us off the ground."

The whirring grows louder and then Tony starts his countdown from three. The moment he hits one, he presses the handheld switches, immediately getting thrown up and backwards. He hits the low ceiling before crumpling to the floor and DUM-E turns to him and sprays him with the fire extinguisher as Scott runs over to him. The second the younger realizes he's generally okay, he bites his lip and starts to turn red.

Probably from trying not to laugh.

"If I hear a snicker from you, I will ground you forever. No oranges or lollipops."

Scott bursts into laughter a moment later and Tony sighs and holds up his arm.

"Help me up you brat."

"I think it's safe to say that 10% gets you off the ground." Scott snickers once he gets himself under control, and reaches down to help him to his feet.

"Ahahaha, so funny." Tony takes off the suit pieces with Scott's help and walks over to the workbench.

"It was. And now we will forever have a record of it." Scott smiles and watches Tony start designing the arms of the suit.

"I'd delete it but I'm sure you'll find a way to restore it and squirrel it away somewhere."

Scott only confirms his theory with a laugh and they both look over to the door when it hisses open. Pepper walks in and approaches them after setting some paperwork down.

"Didn't you hear the intercom? I've been buzzing you. Obadiah's upstairs." She tells them and Scott scrunches his nose.

"What? Oh, right. I'll be right up." He pulls his arm and the bones of the suit's arm from the stand with it.

"I thought you were done making weapons."

"He is." Scott answers. "That's a flight stabilizer."

"Completely harmless." Tony adds.

He powers it up and activates it, sending things - and himself - flying. Unfortunately his landing pad had been Scott, who was standing behind him when he shot the stabilizer and Tony immediately rolled off of him. Scott groans and holds the back of his head as he sits up and Pepper looks down at both of them incredulously.

"Seriously, how is he still alive?" Pepper asks.

"In my defense, I didn't expect that." Tony says and gets up with Scott's help once the younger recovers.

"You say that more than you think." Pepper says. "Brought paperwork for you to look at and sign. Obie is upstairs. Scott? Are you okay sweetie?"

"Still better than an asthma attack." Scott answers.

"I swear one of these days I'm going to come down here and find you both dead." Pepper sighs.

"It's plausible." Tony says and starts for the stairs.

Pepper only scoffs.

#tony stark #scott lang #pepper potts #rhodey

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page-doctor-bekker · 4 years ago

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Rooftop - Part 1 (transfemme!sarah)

(A/N) hey! i have a long ass one-shot and i kinda of want to make it lead off a lil bit of a cliffhanger so i've got part one here for you. this takes place a few days after this oneshot

Sarah grabs her white coat from her desk chair, and stares at the embroidery.

Sarah Reese, MD

Dept. of Psychiatry

She sighed, before retreating to the bathroom to tuck and dress. Even after her orchiectomy, tucking was still mildly uncomfortable. At least she had graduated from using tape to using a gaff, which was much more comfortable and easy to take off at the end of the day.

Once she was dressed, clad in a pair of relaxed, navy blue dress pants and a pale pink button-down shirt speckled with cartoonish images of various types of fruit, she grabbed her lab coat, and shrugged it on.

There was a mirror on her closet door, and she caught a glimpse of herself in it. She gulped, and stood in front of it, staring herself down.

She pressed the pad of her thumb against her jawline, and dragged her skin around in a feeble attempt to soften it. Her jawline led her to her chin, the cleft in it causing a pang of dysphoria in her stomach. She puckered her lips, trying to make them look fuller, but that only exacerbated her chin. She sighed, and gave up. It is what it is.

She let her hand fall to her side, and fiddled with her coat. After a moment, she scowled at herself.

“Move on, Sarah, just move on,” She mumbled to herself, taking a hair tie from her wrist and putting her hair up into an unintentionally neat bun. No matter how hard she tried, she could never succeed in creating a messy one. That required more finesse than she had.

She smiled at herself, although her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“I am a good doctor,” She affirmed, “A good doctor who made a mistake,” She quoted Dr. Charles, the thought of him filling her with calm.

“And Ava,” She gave herself a confident look, “Is not worth my time. I don’t even like her anyways.”

She paused for a moment.

“Because I don’t like women,” She shrugged, “And someday I will meet a man who loves me for me.”

“Don’t give me that look,” She snapped at herself, “Just because I’m not cis doesn’t mean I can’t be straight.”

“And I deserve better than Ava anyways,” She opened her mouth, then closed it, like a fish. She opened it again, “Someone better who is a man. I will find the man for me. The only reason I think I like Ava is because I haven’t found the man for me. That’s okay. I’m only 26. Some people don’t get married until after 30.”

“I am a confident woman,” She declared, “A confident straight woman.”

She started to walk away, but she looked back.

“And i’m a good doctor,” She said, sharply.

She saw Dr. Charles outside the hospital, and he waved her over. She ran to catch up with him, out of breath by the time she arrived, “Hello Dr. Charles,” She tried to catch her breath, thinking about how insane she must look right now.

“Dr. Reese,” He greeted with a nod, “How was your break?”

“It was very good,” She announced, “I feel like I am making progress with myself. I am a good doctor! What happened was a mistake, and it doesn’t define my clinical skills.”

He looked at her skeptically, “Good.. Good,” He gave a smile, “In my experience, all you really need after a mistake is to treat a few patients successfully, so I’ve volunteered you to be in the ED this morning.”

Her heart sank.

“And then, when Maggie dismisses you for lunch, come see me in my office and we can chat about what you did differently today,”

Sarah nodded, stuffing her hands in her pockets so she could fidget discreetly. If he knew I’m anxious, he might send me home again.

He gave her a pat on the back, “Holler if you need me. I’m just a page away.”

He left her at the doors to the ED and she took a deep breath, and smiled at the big red letters.

“Help! I need help!”

Go time.

She ran towards the direction of the voice, a large man in his mid-40s who was carrying a young girl, maybe 5 years old, in a bridal-style position.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Reese, I’m going to help you, tell me about your daughter,” She prompted, pressing two fingers onto the girl’s neck while awkwardly walking with the man.

“Ah, she’s my niece, Miranda Maxwell,” He corrected, “Uh, she’s almost six, she’s got a.. uh… Heart condition? She was born with it. Her mom said she sees a doctor here uh… Dr… Dr… Beaker? Brekker?”

“Dr. Bekker?” The name made Sarah’s heart flutter.

“Yes, that’s the one. Anyways, she collapsed today, and says her chest hurts, and she’s a bit blue around her lips and nails.”

Dr. Reese took Miranda from the man, and took a light jog into the emergency department. The man took off after her. Upon entering the ED, she called to Maggie, “Five years old with a congenital heart condition, chest pain, trouble breathing, rapid pulse, blue lips and nails, where do you want me?”

“Treatment five.”

Dr. Reese set the girl down on the bed and Monique rushed to start an IV, “Let’s get her on the monitors, and get her changed into a gown,” Sarah instructed, “And Maggie?”

Maggie looked up from where she was conversing with the girl’s uncle.

“Page Dr. Bekker, Miranda is a patient of her’s, and get Miranda’s parents here as soon as possible,” She looked back towards the girl, “Miranda? My name is Dr. Reese, I’m going to help you feel better.”

“It hurts,” She cried, clutching at her chest.

“I know, I know, we’re going to figure out why,” Dr. Reese cooed softly, before taking on a more serious tone with Monique, “Get a CBC, BMP, urinalysis, 12-lead EKG, and get her on oxygen until Dr. Bekk-”

“Talking about me?” Dr. Bekker startled Dr. Reese, “My ears were itching. Miranda, did you miss me? Is that why you’re back so soon?”

Miranda giggled through the pain at that, and Dr. Bekker smiled. Dr. Reese almost allowed herself to feel endeared by the rare display of kindness, but quickly regained composure.

“Maggie, where are we with her parents?”

“They’re on their way, but they said to do whatever it takes to help Miranda,” Maggie called back, and Dr. Bekker nodded.

“What seems to be the problem, Mindy?” Dr. Bekker pulled her stethoscope off of her neck, and pressed the drum to Miranda’s chest, and listened thoughtfully.

“I felt weird and then fell down. My chest hurts real bad,” She complained, “I can’t breathe.”

“Let’s get an echocardiogram,” Dr. Bekker noted to Monique, who nodded, and started to set up the ultrasound machine, “Does it hurt more when you breathe?”

Miranda shook her head.

She’s so gentle with her.

Sarah smiled.

“Okay, I’m going to look at your heart with this special tool, you’ve done this before,” Dr. Bekker assured, before squeezing the gel onto the girl’s chest and pressing the ultrasound wand down.

She can be gentle. And kind.

“Psych residents, I swear. God, isn’t anyone in this hospital competent?”

Sarah was shocked back to reality by Ava, who was snapping her fingers at her, “Dr. Reese? What tests did you order?”

“Uh… CBC, BMP, urinalysis, and a 12-lead-EKG?” She trembled, her voice seeming more questioning than answering.

“Okay,” She said quietly, focused on the ultrasound.

A few minutes of quiet later, Dr. Bekker put the wand away, “Clean her up, and,” Dr. Bekker looked back at Miranda, “And if I remember correctly, your popsicle of choice is cherry?” She winked at Miranda, removed her gloves, and helped herself to hand sanitizer off the wall. Dr. Reese nodded at Monique, who was wiping the girl off, and left as well.

“Um…” Dr. Reese started, “What do you think?”

“Transfer her up to the PICU and let me know when her parents get here,” Dr. Bekker told Maggie, before turning to Dr. Reese, “I think she’s in congestive heart failure,” She shrugged, “Did you see the ultrasound? She has a complete atrioventricular septal defect, she’s been my patient for the past year, we knew this was coming.”

“Why didn’t you operate earlier?”

“Her parents wanted to wait,” Ava shrugged and rolled her eyes, “Nobody wants to put their four year old daughter through open heart surgery. But now,” She gestured back towards the room, “Their five year old daughter is going to go through open heart surgery today.”

“Well is she going to be okay?”

“If I can get her in for- I’m sorry,” She interrupted herself, “Why do you care?”

“She’s…” Sarah balled part of her coat up in her hand, “She’s my patient, I just-”

“Not anymore she’s not,” Ava huffed, “Thanks for not killing her. Wish I could say the same for Mr. Nearling.”

Ava flounced off.

Sarah watched her leave, and turned to Maggie, who pointed at treatment 1.

“Ear infection.”

Dr. Reese nodded, grabbing the tablet the charge nurse was holding out, and heading to treatment 1.

By lunch, she had treated three ear infections, a gunshot wound, a miscarriage, and sent a psychosis patient up to the psych ward. By the time Maggie sent her off for her lunch break, she had practically forgotten about Ava.

Dr. Charles was waiting for her when she opened the door to see him, and he gave her a tight-lipped smile, “How was it?”

“Uh, good,” She sat across from him, and he pulled out his own lunch while she unpacked hers, “I saw Dr. Bekker.”

“Oh? How was that?”

Sarah tapped her foot, “One of her CHD patients came in, um…” She took a bite of her sandwich, “I ordered some tests for her. She was snarky about it when I talked to her afterwards though.”

Dr. Charles shrugged, “Well, Ava will always be Ava, regardless of-”

“She said, um… She thanked me for not killing the patient and said she wished she could say the same for Mr. Nearling.”

He sighed, and nodded, “Well, it’s only been a few days. She’ll get over it. You guys were good friends before, you’ll be good friends after a while..”

“Good friends?” She questioned, “What makes you say that?”

“Well, y’know,” He motioned back and forth with his hands, “You’d chat, you seemed to be happy when you saw her, she teased you a bit. All of Ava’s telltale friendship signs.”

Sarah was quiet, instead choosing to take a bite of her sandwich and chew thoughtfully.

“Tell me, Sarah, do you like Ava?”

“What do you mean?” Sarah asked, carefully.

“Like… You know, are you interested in her? Romantically?”

Sarah choked on her sandwich, coughing a few times.

“Remember to chew, Dr. Reese,” Dr. Charles reprimanded.

“I don’t like her,” Sarah defended, “I don’t care about her. I deserve better. If I still liked her after she talked to me like that, even if I liked her in the first place, I’d be crazy.”

Dr. Charles shrugged, taking a bite of his salad.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What?”

“The shrug.”

“What do you think it means?”

“Did you do Yolanda’s intake?”

“Who?”

Sarah nodded, stuffing her half-eaten lunch back into the bag and tossing it in the trash.

“Sarah, you haven’t finished your lunch-”

“Not hungry, I’ll see you around,” Sarah started to leave, but Dr. Charles stopped her.

“I’m supposed to pass a note on for you.”

(A/N) come back tomorrow for pt 2 lol

#chicago med #transfemme!sarah #my au #honestly i dont like this but some of the contextual stuff is necessary #whatever

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diaryofabeautyfiend · 4 years ago

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I’ve kept you waiting long enough. Finally some smut! Please enjoy like repost follow and give me feedback. Love and appreciate all 20 of you who read this.

Small Time Witch (8)

Steve set the table in the dining room. He put a note on the door saying , “Do not enter under penalty of death!” The lights were dimmed and candles were lit. He had a bottle of wine breathing and your salmon salad in pretty white bowls. Even though he told you not to change your clothes you borrowed a dress from Wanda. It was long with long sleeves. It almost reminded you of a nightgown but it had a deep V down the front. “Don’t ruin my dress. Have fun.” She said with a wave.

You got out of the elevator and Steve was waiting for you. “You look beautiful.” He kissed your cheek and took your hand to lead you to the table. Neither of you could stop smiling. You ate in a comfortable silence for a bit. He poured you another glass. “So what was your life like living with a coven?” he finally asked.

“My life was painfully boring. I went to a normal school until I was twelve. Came into my powers and spent middle and high school at Charles Xaviers School for Gifted Youngsters. Got myself under control. Went to MIT and the rest is history.”

“What did you study?”

“Electrical Engineering of course.” You smiled and took a big sip of wine.

“So you are super smart.”

“I wouldn’t say super.”

“I like super smart women. When you were going over your part in the mission briefing today, that was sexy as hell. I think Tony is in love with you.”

“Most men are intimidated when I tell them what I do. Mutant girl with weird powers super hot. I tell them I’m regular girl electrical engineer who works for the government and they’re regretting buying me a drink.”

He scoffs, “Amateurs. If they can’t handle it they aren’t worth your time.”

You smiled and held his hand across the table, “You’re worth my time.” He tried to hide his cheeks that were turning crimson.

“I’m glad. I like spending time with you too. So what is Charles Xaviers School...”

“For Gifted Youngsters? It’s a mouthful I know. Mutant school basically. Professor Charles Xavier and his band of merry mutants created a school for young mutants. That way we could be ourselves without being harassed.”

“You keep calling yourself a mutant. I thought you were a witch.”

“I am. We do spell work and all of that Mother Nature bullshit. We also all have...well had...specific genetic mutations that gave us various abilities. My Aunt Helen took in my mother when she was pregnant for me. Eventually we grew into a coven of twelve. Then we weren’t.” You had a far off look in your eyes like you were lost in your memories.

Not wanting to bum you out he changed the subject.

“So I watched ‘Chamber of Secrets’.”

“Without me?! What did you think?”

“Just bottom line me. Are Hermione and Harry going to fall in love?” Your eyes got big and you laughed.

“Sir, you have many more movies to watch. To the tv!”

You cleared the plates and tidied up. You made small talk sharing your favorite of things, getting to know each other.

In the elevator going up to his room you would glance at each other then look away blushing. You both felt it. An invisible string pulled you towards each other and, in an instant you were in his arms. He brushed his lips over yours. You could taste the ghost of wine on his breath. He ran his fingertips up the back of your neck and tangled them in your hair at the nape. His desire was almost overwhelming for you. It radiated off of him and sent tingles through your nerve endings. You felt like you were made of static. A million pulses of light fluttered through your body. He hit the emergency stopped lowered his head and kissed you.

This was a deep kiss. It was tentative at first like he was testing the waters. When you didn’t pulled back it became desperate. Your hands trembled as you ran them up his arms. He held your face drinking you in like you were the first drop of water he’s had in days. He pushed you against the wall and pressed his hard on into your hip. You just couldn’t stop kissing him. You were so lost in the moment you didn’t feel the sparks forming on your fingertips. When you brought one hand up to touch his chest there was a crackling sound and then he went sailing across the elevator.

You looked down at your hands in a panic. He sat up shaking his head. Your eyes were fixated on the singe mark on his shirt. It was right above his heart. You burst into tears and backed into the corner. “Y/N. I’m ok. It was just a little jolt. It’s ok.”

“I could have killed you!” you sobbed.

“No. It’s ok. Super soldier remember? It was ok.” He went to hug you but you pushed him away. “Don’t touch me! I’ll hurt you again!”

You frantically pushed the elevator button to get back to Wanda’s room to get your things. Every time he tried to grab you you got more agitated. The more agitated you were the bigger the sparks were. The lights started to flicker. You couldn’t breathe. Once the doors finally opened Wanda was there waiting. She could hear you screaming for her. You hadn’t even realized you were. You stumbled out of the doors into her arms. Sparks were flying from your fingers. The others stood by watching not knowing what to do. She smoothed your hair and shushed in your ear. “I want to go home.” You whispered.

“Ok. Ok. Let’s go.” She helped you stand and you left without looking back at him.

“Wait. Y/N. I promise I’m ok.” Steve pleaded.

“I’ll drive.” Nat came out of nowhere with your keys. Steve came closer to you but Nat put her hands up to stop him. “Look. Rest up. I’ll call when we get her settled. No one needs to be on edge for tomorrow.”

He ran his hands over his face through his hair.

Bruce had an intense look on his face. He touched Steve’s arm to get his attention. “Steve that was really close to your heart. I’d like to run an EKG to make sure you’re ok.”

“I’m fine, Bruce. Really.”

“Please. Your skin is singed. I know it will heal quick but your heart may not. Let’s just check it out.” He went with Bruce to the lab and let him do his thing. What he really wanted to do was go after you. Turns out, as he suspected, the shock you gave him was minor. Though he didn’t want to make it a habit, he was no worse for wear.

Loki was half asleep on the couch when he felt you getting closer. You were so scared it made him feel ill. He didn’t know exactly how close you were but he felt compelled to run to where ever you were. He called Wanda. “We’re almost there. I know you feel it.” She answered.

“Anyone within a twenty block radius can feel it.”

“Open the door. We’re parking.”

He paced the floor until he saw you. You were no longer crying. You looked drained. “Darling. Hey” he held your face in his hands waiting until you focused on him.

“Tell me what happened.”

You took a deep breath and held Wanda’s hand while you told the whole story sparing no detail. He wanted to scream when you said you were kissing.

“I could have killed him, Loki.” He held your head against his chest trying to calm you. You started crying again.

“Honey. Do you want us to stay?” Wanda asked.

“No. I just want to go to bed. We all need sleep.” She hugged you both sandwiching you in between their bodies. You visibly relaxed when you felt her warmth.

“I love you, Y/N. We’ll see you both in the morning.”

“Quinjet leaves at 8.” Nat rubbed your arm “I’ll let Steve know you’re ok. We’ll see you in the morning.”

“Thanks, girls.” They smiled and walked out.

“Y/N. Has this ever happened before?”

“Once. Right when I came into my powers. I was holding hands with Bobby Myer and I shocked the shit out of him. He peed his pants. That’s when my mother took me out of school.”

“I have to ask. Did the soldier wet himself?” You both laughed a little harder than you wanted to perhaps.

“Come. Let’s get you to bed. You’ve had enough adventures for one night.”

“Don’t leave me alone please, Lok.”

He hugged you tighter, “Wouldn’t dream of it, darling.”

You called Steve to check on him. “Hey. Bruce looked me over and I’m perfectly fine. I have a patch of chest hair missing and I smell like burnt toast but I’m fine. Can we FaceTime? I’d love to see your face.” Loki rolled his eyes when you shooed him out of the bed.

Steve appeared on screen. His shirt was off. Right where you shocked him he outlined his bare skin with a marker in the shape of a heart. You smiled and teared up again. You wished you could kiss it. “No tears, Princess. Get some rest. We have a long flight and a really long few days ahead of us.”

“Thanks for not hating me.” He chuckled. “Hate you? Not a chance. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Loki opened the door a crack, “Can I come back?”

“Yes. Please. I need you to snuggle me.” You positioned yourselves around each other. He contemplated what may have caused you to involuntarily erupt. He thought possibly it was a sign of arousal. Though he wasn’t sure why it didn’t happen any other time you were intimate with someone. He wanted to ask but you were already fast asleep.

It was three in the morning which, in Loki’s opinion, was the darkest part of the night. He felt too warm and a light was mysteriously streaming into his eyes. When he opened them he was in his bed chambers in the palace in Asgard. He still felt the weight of your body but you were not there. His sheets were cool and pooled around his waist. They were crisp and a much higher thread count than yours. He sat up and looked around seeing all the familiar things. His big tufted chair in the corner where he did his reading. His massive book cases that went up to the vaulted ceilings. He even thought he could smell his mother’s perfume. It wafted in like she had just walked through the room.

He hurried to his feet to get dressed as he had done so many times. Friga would barge into his room even though his staff was told explicitly that he was not to be disturbed. She would throw open the heavy drapes and profess that his tender haunches needed to see the sun. Sometimes there were girls to shoo out of the room. He didn’t ever stop her. He would just roll over groaning but she ignored him. “Put something on and join me for tea.” This time was no different except for one big thing. His mother was dead. He found her on the balcony looking over the majesty of her gardens beneath them. He stood frozen behind her trying to make sense of what was happening.

“It doesn’t have to make sense, darling. Come. Sit with me.” He opened his mouth to say something when she looked over her shoulder and said, “Don’t argue with your mother.” His eyes filled with tears. When he held her hand he let them flow.

“Oh. Sweetheart. Don’t cry.”

“I miss you terribly.”

“How can you miss me when I’m always with you?” He wanted to crawl in her lap like he did when he was a child. She stood from the chair and wrapped him in her arms and allowed him to fall apart.

“Talk to me, son. What is troubling you?”

“Nothing.”

“You wouldn’t have summoned me here if there was nothing wrong.”

He unloaded on her. He felt like a weight was lifted off of his chest.

“May I offer my opinion?” He nodded yes.

“She’ll come around.”

“That’s it?” He felt cheated. She patted his hand, “That’s it. What? You wanted some profound advice? Son, you already know how she feels about you. You never allow anyone in. Once you do, she’ll come around.” She hugged him again. She buried her nose in his hair and inhaled deeply. “I love you, Loki.”

“I love you too, mother. Will I see you again?”

“I’m not one to linger.” She blew him a kiss and he woke up to the sound of your alarm.

You hit snooze and put your hand back on his chest. He smoothed your hair out of your face to see you had fallen back to sleep. It was now or never he thought. With that he gripped you tighter praying you couldn’t hear and he said the words burned on his heart. “I love you, Y/N. I know you’re with Steve and I won’t stand in the way of that. But I love you.” He let out his breath and closed his eyes. He felt you stir a little. The alarm sounded again. You turned it off and he rolled to get out of bed. You pulled him back down.

“Let’s not piss off your boyfriend this morning, pet. I’m sure he’s anxious to get going.”

“Wait.” You climbed onto his lap and wrap your arms and legs around him. “I love you too.” He peeled you off of him looking hopeful but confused. “It doesn’t have to make sense, Lok. But I know this isn’t where you want to be. Not really. You have galaxies to explore. What do you want to do in upstate New York? Steve is....he’s dependable.”

“So you’re saying you don’t trust me? You can’t rely on me.” He looked away but you turned his face back towards you.

“With my life, I trust you implicitly. I can’t say the same for my heart.”

He was crestfallen. Love was not something that Loki gave freely. The way you shot him down made him feel like you had been mulling this over for some time and you chose before he even gave you the chance to hear him out. Before he could say anymore your mouth was on his.

“Y/N, what are you doing?” You kissed your way down his neck and fumbled for the draw string of his pants. Loki was in no position to stop you. His arousal had taken over. “Y/N, please...”

“I love you.” Finding your way back to his lips you hovered there for a second. The tingle ran all through your body begging to break loose. “I love you, Loki. Please don’t be angry. I can’t be with you. It’s too much. You’re too much.” Your fingertips crackled and sparked. Unfazed he intertwined his fingers with yours absorbing some of the current.

Tears shimmered in his eyes but they never spilled. No way he’d give you the satisfaction. You thought you could feel his heart breaking under your palm. You pressed harder to feel it beating strong but fragile. He silver tongue eluded him now. He held you as tight as he could letting your magic die down and he kissed you again with abandon.

He ran his hands down your back and cupped your ass cheeks to pull you forward. His cock was aching under the thin material of his sleep pants. He could feel your dampness as you pressed down on him. Your heart fluttered against your chest like a bird trying to break free from its cage. He slipped his fingers into the front of your panties coating them in your wetness. You gasped. He could feel the hair on his arms standing at attention. “Easy pet. Breathe.”

His fingers reverently explored your needy cunt. He moved slowly but each movement was deliberate squeezing out every bit of pleasure. “That’s it. Come for me. Find your peace.” You clamped down like a vice grip around his fingers. When you came the bed shook and the lights flickered finally giving way to darkness.

His mouth was on you again taking his time to enjoy you. He managed to get his pants down and your panties moved just enough to slip inside of you. The weight of his cock felt exquisite. You held there for a moment enjoying how it stretched you yet fit in perfectly like your body was made for his. You rocked your hips grinding down to relieve the pressure on your clit. He positioned his hand in between your bodies and pinched and rolled the swollen bundle between his fingers causing the wave to build again. “Darling listen. Focus on my voice.” You looked at him through hooded eyes. Everything felt so extraordinary you could barely make your brain understand him. His emotions mingled with yours. Your brain was worked into a frenzy.

“When you come I want you to pull in the tingle. Find your center and withdraw. Ready?” You nodded. “Come now. Come with me.” He growled in your ear. That sent you over the edge. The noises you made were sinful. When he came he pulled you in and rested his head on your chest. You were able to control your magick in an intense situation. “Good girl,” he panted. “Thank you for not electrocuting me.” You both laughed and kissed again. A long languid kiss that would normally help you drift off to sleep.

You had to shake yourself out of your sex haze fast and get to the compound. You forced yourself to only think about the mission for now. Loki’s mind searched for yours trying to keep the connection. You had already shut him out. He wouldn’t do the same to you. Those flood gates were opened now. He was waiting for you to emerge gasping for breath. If only he were the man you’d look to for rescuing.

#steve rogers fanfic #captain america x reader #marvel witches #mcu x reader #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #marvel #steve rogers x reader #captain america smut #mcu smut #loki angst #loki smut

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chronic-resus-needed · 5 years ago

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Going Home

Highschool romances rarely led to a lifetime partner, but that was the case for Hugo and Simon. Coming out to his conservative parents in high school wasn't easy for Hugo, but Simon was worth it and it was Simon and his family who took him after he own parents kicked him out. For the first time in four years Hugo was going to see his parents. He had been against it, but Simon was encouraging. He said Hugo deserved all the love in the world. So off the went. It was spring break, their last spring break before they finished college, so the two twenty-two year-olds decided to make a small road trip from their University in Chicago back to their hometown in Owensboro.

Hugo was nervous, he didn’t want to face a second rejection, but that wasn't why he kept stealing glances at Simon as he drove. Simon had been up half the night dealing with what seemed like the longest asthma attack in history. He had waved Hugo to bed each time he came out to check on his boyfriend who sat behind a nebulizer. Eventually they had both fallen asleep on the cheap futon in their tiny living room. Simon swore he was fine and up to the trip, but he still looked tired, his bright eyes duller than usual and when Hugo had awoken with his ear pressed to Simon's chest he could still hear a faint rattling with each breath. "What, do you want me to take over?" Simon joked as Hugo glanced over for the umpteenth time, "I'm fine. You're fine. This is going to be a good day." Hugo only mumbled under his breath making Simon laugh. He reached over from the passenger seat to rub Hugo's muscular back. "Everything is good."

They were almost two hours into their five our trip when Simon first coughed, there was nothing but endless highway before them. This was the dullest part of the drive. Simon reached behind into the back seat to grab his duffle bag, his chin length blond hair shielding his face as he did so. When he sat back up he brushed it behind his ears and began digging through the duffle bag. "You really should keep you rescue inhaler where you can find it," Hugo chided. Simon held up the yellow inhaler with a triumphant smirk, "I knew exactly where it was." Hugo shook his head, "Sure, under all the other crap you shoved in there because no one ever taught you how to pack."

"Don't make me laugh when I'm trying to breath," it was a joke, but his small chuckle did lead to coughing. Simon brought the yellow inhaler to his lips and took a deep lung filling breath of the medication. The affect was immediate and he felt his heart rate pick up from the albuterol. "See? Everything is fine." He leaned over and exhaled playfully into Hugo's face, "But I do need to pee." Hugo gently pushed Simon's face away, "You do realize we have like two hours of nothing ahead of us. I can pull over?" Simon scrunched up his nose, "If I get desperate." Hugo rolled his eyes, "You're such princess sometimes." The bickered good naturedly about Hugo's 'brutish' nature and Simon's 'princess qualities' for a bit.

Hugo was large, six foot three, broad chest, and a gym rat. In contrast, Simon was only five foot eleven. Like Hugo (because of Hugo dragging him to the gym), he was fit, but he lacked Hugo's bulk. Where Hugo was built, Simon was toned, slender. They fit perfectly together, complimented each other. Hugo was practical, organized, reliable. Simon was more care-free, spontaneous. Simon reached across the car to run his hand through Hugo's dark hair as they fell into silence.

Silence was unusual when Simon was around, but Hugo had a lot to think about. When he got like this words just weren't enough so Simon just reminded his boyfriend that he was there, that he wasn't alone. The silence also didn’t bother Simon today, his chest was still tight. He flicked on the radio to add some background noise.

The tightness didn’t go away and the inhaler was pulled back out. It was harder this time, hard to draw in a full breath, and the full dose of medication never made it through. He rubbed at his chest and coughed in an attempt to open his airways. Now Hugo looked away from the road, "Still?" Simon nodded, he was beginning to wheeze. "Might be," he paused to breath, "a problem."

Hugo may be anxious in nature, but he was good in a crisis. "Alright, hang on." With one hand still on the wheel he pulled out his phone and opened GoogleMaps. The nearest hospital was just under an hour away. He mad an illegal U-turn to switch sides on the highway, he would cut that time in half.

Ten minutes passed and the wheezing could be heard over the radio and Simon was beginning to sweat from the effort of sucking air into his swelling airways. He tried the inhaler again, bringing it to lips, but his breaths were too shallow for the medication to do its job. "Hugh" This was the point where Hugo knew his fear was valid. Simon was scared. "Hey," he reached over and grabbed Simon's hand, bringing it to his own chest. "Just breath with me," he took slow deep breath. Simon could feel as Hugo's chest expanded and contracted, so steady, so strong. He tried to match, he did, but couldn't. Although he was beginning to heave with effort his rate of respiration increased, becoming rapid and shallow. By twenty minutes Simon's shoulder's were hunched. He had a vicelike grip on Hugo's right hand, his free hand was at the collar of is shirt, the fingers curled around the fabric as if he dragged it downward as if exposing his neck would make breathing easier.

Thirty minutes and the color was gone from his face, his lips were taking on a bluish tint. His breaths had turned into strained painful gasps with pauses in-between as he tried and failed to draw in more air. All the while Hugo kept talking, his voice soothing and encouraging, "You're doing good, one breath at a time." Hugo glanced at his phone, they were still fifteen minutes away, the endless highway had turned into a town. His foot pressed heavily against the accelerator. "Simon," he looked at his boyfriend whose eyes were closed, "Simon!" He shook their joined hands and Simon's blue eyes opened, he sucked in a shallow breath. "Simon if you die in this car I swear to god I am breaking up with you." Simon smiled weakly, but couldn’t speak. Their wasn’t enough air to waste on words.

Thirty-eight minutes, they were so close. Horns honked as Hugo ran through a red light. Simon's wheezing as stopped, his eyes were half open, his head slumped against the passenger door window. The grip on Hugo's hand had gone slack. "Simon!" His chest was so still, so unnaturally still.

The next few minutes were the longest of Hugo's life, but as he pulled into the ambulance bay he couldn’t even recall how he had goten them there. All he could see was Simon, Simon not breathing, Simon dying right beside him. The palm of his handed pounded on the car horn as he pulled in to catch the attention of anyone, anyone could help. He didn’t even bother to turn off the car before he was out and opening Simon's door.

His boyfriend's lips were blue, his face grey, and his body was dead weight as Hugo scooped his smaller frames into his arms, carrying him bridal style inside. "He isn't breathing!" It was a small hospital, only a level four trauma center, but the staff reacted quickly. Simon was pulled from his arms and whisked away, they wouldn't let Hugo follow.

They took Simon's now lifeless form into a trauma room, Simon would have been shocked at the number of the people in the room. One person placed an IV, one began cutting off his clothes as a third hooked him to various monitors, a fourth had an ambu bag pressed against his face trying to force oxygen into lungs, but met resistance. "He's not moving any air," a fifth person began chest compressions as the EKG he was attached to showed asystole. With each compression on his slim frame his chest caved inward, his belly extended, again and again. "Push a round of epi and atropine." He was already at Simon's head ready to intubate, "He's swollen shut." The would have to trach him.

As compressions continued as betadine was spread across Simon's neck and the doctor then made an incision into his trachea. A clear tube was placed into the incision forcing his windpipe open and an ambu bag attached. They had bypassed his swollen airways to get precious oxygen into his lungs. With the trach established they began to breath for him, forcing air into his oxygen starved lungs. Now with his airway secured Simon's chest rose with each artificial breath.

Despite the fresh oxygen his heart remained still in his chest and a fresh set of arms took over compressions. When they paused for a pulse check there was no change, another round of drugs were pushed. It had been eleven minutes since he arrived. Seventeen since he had drawn his last breath. Another pulse check and the drugs had forced his heart into a shockable rhythm. Compressions resumed while the defibrillator charged. "Clear!"

In the hall Hugo was forced away from the trauma room. His car was still idling outside and security was forced to take his keys to move it when Hugo refused to leave the waiting area. How could he just wait? He needed to do something, needed to help. The only thing he could do was to call Simon's parents, to let them know, but doing that, it felt like a bad sign. He would call them after Simon was awake, when things were okay. Because they would be, Simon would be fine, Simon had to be fine because Hugo couldn’t live without him.

Back in the trauma room Simon's back arched as 200 joules shot through him, his toes scrunched and then unfurled as body fell back to the gurney with a soft thumb. V-Fib still showed on the monitors. "Clear!" A second shock and again the paddles pulled his chest into the air, lifting the base of his neck clear off the gurney as his whole body jolted. His left arm slipped off the gurney and banged against the side of the gurney as chest compressions were resumed. He had fallen out of V-fib into pulseless electrical activity.

There was tension in the air his team discussed their next steps. The doctor shone a light into his unseeing eyes, his pupils were reactive. Resuscitation efforts continued and another round of drugs were pushed. No changes were observed at the next pulse check and a fourth round of drugs as administered. His pale chest was bruised from their efforts and there a crunch with each compression. At least one rib was fractured if not broken but the nurse currently beating his heart between his sternum and his spine didn't let up her efforts. Finally, V-fib was restored and everyone stepped, but the doctor wielding the defibrillator backed away from Simon's prone body. The doctor pressed the paddles to his pale chest, "Clear!" No change. There a few beats of chest compressions as the machine charged as a fourth shock was delivered. The heart monitor showed a spike as the charge coursed through Simon, followed by another, and another as normal sinus rhythm was returned.

Once stable, Simon was left in a critical care room, hooked to a ventilator which continued to breath for him. Hugo wasn't permitted to see him until he was being transported to the ICU. Their reunion was brief. The site of his unconscious boyfriend lying so still and frail on the gurney, a respiratory therapist pumping an ambu bag to mechanically breath for him was frightening, but Hugo still leaned over and planted a kiss to Simon's forehead. "You scared the shit out of me," his hand found Simon's and gave it a squeeze that wasn’t returned. "I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere."

#resus #cpr #asthma

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mikauzoran · 4 years ago

Text

Marichat/Adrienette: Serendipity: Fifty Marichat and Adrienette Kisses: Kiss Fifty

Read it on AO3: Serendipity: Fifty Marichat and Adrienette Kisses: ...out of love.

“Stop moving around so much,” Plagg grumbled as he snuggled up against the crook of Adrien’s neck.

“Leave him alone,” Trixx admonished groggily, burrowing further into the nest he’d made out of Adrien’s hair. “He’s got a lot on his mind; it’s no wonder he can’t sleep.”

“Thinking about the wedding tomorrow and how you’re going to smooch the love of your life in front of all of your friends and family?” Plagg snickered, giving Adrien’s shoulder a playful nip.

“Thinking about how Marinette is making the biggest mistake of her life,” Adrien snorted, twisting his engagement ring round and round on his finger, watching the EKG heartbeat-like line as it dipped and soared around the center of the band.

“Don’t say that,” Plagg commanded, flying up to stare Adrien down with a scowl.

Adrien shrugged, avoiding Plagg’s gaze. He pulled off the ring and looked at the inscription on the inside of the band: Home. Love. Family. Forever.

“She could do better,” he muttered.

“But she picked you,” Trixx reminded softly, petting Adrien’s hair.

“You’re just psyching yourself out,” Plagg diagnosed. “Stop fretting, Kid. Go to sleep, and things will look brighter in the morning. You’ll marry your girl, have a big party with lots of tasty food, and everything will be alright.”

Adrien hummed noncommittally in response, closing his eyes in order to make another attempt.

Fifteen minutes later, when Adrien was still tossing and turning, Plagg gave a resigned sigh. “Okay. Clearly, this isn’t working. Let’s go for a run and burn off some of your nerves.”

Adrien gave a mirthless chuckle, turning onto his side to gaze at Plagg melancholically. “Man, I must be pretty bad if you’re volunteering your services so willingly.”

Plagg rolled his eyes, waving away the suggestion. “You’re just driving me nuts, and I want to get some sleep. Think of this as a wedding present.”

“Plagg’s really a big softie,” Trixx chortled, tail flicking mischievously. “He just doesn’t want anyone to know, so he puts on the obnoxious, slothful act.”

“Hush, you,” Plagg hissed, his own tail giving an annoyed twitch. “There’s no acting about my sloth. I really am this lazy, thank you very much.”

“I’d believe it,” Adrien snickered, the laughter breaking through his glum mood. “All right. Let’s go for a run. I guess it can’t hurt anything. Plagg, transform me.”

He spent the first ten minutes or so of his run aimlessly leaping from rooftop to rooftop, dodging antennas and hopping over chimney stacks, seeing how fast he could go in an attempt to burn off some energy and tire himself out.

He soon got bored of that, however, and decided to make his way to the Eiffel Tower, a site of various special moments including the time five years prior when Marinette had arranged a picnic and told him that she loved him for the first time.

He bounded to the top of the tower, flying from girder to steel girder until he found himself at the pinnacle of the monument.

Surprisingly, he wasn’t alone.

Marinette’s eyes widened at her partner’s unexpected arrival, but then a warm smile stretched across her lips and all the way up to her eyes. “Good evening, Chaton. What a lovely coincidence meeting you here.”

“Likewise, My Ladylove,” he chuckled, giving her a supernova grin in return. “Though, I think it’s more morning than evening at this point.”

She shrugged, motioning for him to join her.

“Aren’t you cold?” he couldn’t help but ask as he came to stand beside her at the railing, observing her thin, cotton pyjamas and little cardigan that couldn’t be keeping out the slightly chilly breeze. “It’s kind of nippy up here.”

Marinette shook her head as she gazed out at the city sprawling before her. “I like it, actually. It makes me feel alert. I won’t stay up here untransformed long, though, so don’t worry.”

He slipped his arm around her, pulling her into his side to share a little of his warmth. Despite what she said, he could see her beginning to shiver.

“Do you mind me asking what a pretty girl like you is doing all by your lonesome in a place like this at this time of night, or is that being too forward?” he inquired playfully, giving his eyebrows a waggle.

Lightly, she slapped his arm, shaking her head. “I couldn’t sleep. I just had a lot on my mind, so…”

“…Like…what?” he tentatively pressed, the teasing tone gone from his voice now as he wondered if her head was filled with worries like his.

She shrugged. “How everything’s going to be different after tomorrow and how I don’t think I’m ready. Like…we’ll be officially moving in together, and what if the kitchen faucet starts leaking?”

Chat blinked and began to open his mouth to tell her that the building supervisor took care of upkeep and things like that, but she spoke again before he could, her worries snowballing and carrying her away with them.

“I don’t know how to fix a leaky faucet,” she reported anxiously. “I know you call someone, but Maman and Papá are always the ones to arrange for things like that, and I don’t even know how they find the person, so…and there’s grocery shopping and paying bills and keeping the apartment tidy and making all of our own meals and starting a family, and what am I going to do if the kids get sick?” she gasped as if suddenly realizing that this was an important issue that she had failed to attend to.

Chat had to smile at her penchant to get way ahead of herself.

“Don’t worry, Princess,” he cooed, leaning in to press a comforting kiss to the outer shell of her ear. “We’ll figure it out. I mean, we could always call your parents if we have questions, but I’ve been living on my own for almost four years now, and I haven’t died yet, so…I think, whatever comes our way, we can take it on together. We’ve proven ourselves to be a great team over and over again. This is just one more thing where we’ll have to pool our strengths and figure it out together…right?”

Slowly, she started to nod as she absorbed his words.

Her worry receded as she called to mind all the other times they seemed to be facing down unbeatable odds together. They had always made it out so long as they fought side to side, so why should surviving adulthood be any different?

“You’re right,” she realized, her easy smile coming back as she leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his torso. “We can do this…. Thanks for talking me down.”

“Any time you need it,” he promised, catching the top of her head in a quick, affectionate kiss.

There was a comfortable moment where they stood there together, looking out at their city and enjoying each other’s solid, grounding presence, before Chat Noir tentatively spoke up.

“…Want to come back to the apartment with me and snuggle?” he inquired sheepishly, a light pink blush peeking out from underneath his mask and coloring his cheeks. “I don’t want you to go, but I don’t want to keep you out either,” he confessed. “I know it’s the middle of summer, but the breeze really is chilly up here, and I don’t want you getting sick.”

“Alright,” she chuckled, easily giving in. “I don’t really feel like going our separate ways either. Carry me? For old times’ sake?” She gazed up at him, batting her eyelashes prettily.

He laughed as he effortlessly scooped her up. “As my Princess commands.”

She held on tight as he bounced back across the rooftops towards the apartment that they would soon officially share.

He let them in through his bedroom window and set her down on the bed, releasing his transformation as he attacked her neck with playful kisses.

Marinette giggled and squirmed as his nips and licks tickled her.

He stopped before long and pushed himself up on his elbows to gaze down at her in adoration as her chest heaved in her attempt to catch her breath.

Her dazzling smile lit up the dim, moonlit room, and she reached up to play with his hair, brushing it out of his eyes and twisting it around her fingers.

She lifted her head to ghost her lips against his and then lowered back down onto the bed, laughing.

“What?” he wondered softly.

“I’m happy,” she explained, smiling wider.

“Me too,” he whispered, leaning in to nuzzle her ear.

“Good,” she hummed contentedly. “So…what were you doing out for a run? Couldn’t sleep?”

He stiffened, knowing she would scold him if she knew why he’d been worrying. “Yeah,” he replied cagily. “Just a lot of stuff on my mind. You know.”

She took his face in her hands to make him meet her eyes. “Anything I can help with?”

He shook his head, averting his gaze as best as he could. “Nah, not really. It’s just silly things. I’m just being silly.”

“It’s not silly if you’re worried about it,” she patiently reminded. “I mean, I was keeping myself up fretting about how to fix a leaky faucet and what to do if our future hamster gets sick, so…whatever you’re worrying about, it can’t be any more ridiculous than my worries. Talk to me. Let me see if I can help you like you helped me earlier. We are a team after all…right?”

How could he argue with that?

With a tired sigh, he turned to meet her gaze, confessing shamefacedly, “I was fretting about what a big mistake you’re making by marrying me.”

She blinked at him uncomprehendingly. “Wait. What? Adrien, what are you talking about?” Her eyes narrowed in concern as she stroked his face comfortingly.

“You could find someone better, Marinette,” he explained as if reluctant to inform her yet duty-bound to make sure she understood all of her options. “I’m sure there’s someone out there better suited to you, and I don’t want to trap you in this relationship with me knowing that—”

“—Adrien, stop,” she commanded gently, pushing them both up to sitting.

He looked at her searchingly. “But—”

“—No,” she firmly interrupted. “Okay. Maybe you’re right that some guy exists out there who would be completely perfect for me in every way, but you know what?”

He cocked his head to the side listening carefully.

“I don’t want him,” she declared resolutely. “I don’t want a perfect life with a perfect partner where everything is always easy and effortless.”

“You…don’t?” He blinked at her, baffled.

“I don’t,” she confirmed. “Adrien, one of the things I treasure most about our relationship is the hard parts, the times when we’ve really struggled to make it work, the things we’ve overcome together. I love that we’ve come together as a team time and again and that we’ve made it through and are still standing after all of that,” she stressed.

“That’s why I calmed down about all the stuff I was worried about when you reminded me that we’d take on whatever problems came up together. I believed you because we’ve gotten through apocalypses together before, so I know we can do it again. We’re tougher because of all the garbage we’ve been through,” she cooed squeezing his hand.

He squeezed back, unable to find his voice to reply.

“Why would I ever pick some seemingly perfect guy over you?” she continued to obliterate his fears, shaking her head at his ever having doubted. “They say you don’t really know a person until you’re buried up to your neck in crap together,” she chuckled at the memories, and he couldn’t help but grin at the past catastrophes that were now comic. “I know you, and you know me, and I know I can count on you no matter what. I wouldn’t trade our partnership for anything, Adrien.”

He nodded, seeing now how ridiculous his worries had been.

“You are the one I want…” She gave his hands another firm squeeze. “…rough edges and all…because your rough edges line up with mine, and I don’t think I could find anyone more perfect for me if I tried.”

He blinked back tears at that, completely overwhelmed by a raging cocktail of emotions. Far too many people had looked at him and declared him perfect without ever knowing about the dark, ugly parts inside of him. Yet, here she was, fully cognizant of the insecurities and the faults, declaring him perfect for her because of the ways in which he was broken.

“Maybe on the surface other people might look better,” she conceded, looking him full in the face and giving him a smile full of acceptance and love. “but you and I have been through fire together, and I know we can make it out on the other side in one piece, so…don’t doubt yourself. You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted fighting by my side and having my back…whether that’s battling akumas or changing diapers or paying the bills or succeeding in our careers. You’re the one I love, and you’re the one I want to marry, Adrien.”

With a wordless sob, he pulled her into him, squeezing her close and pulling her down onto the bed beside him so that he could bury his face in her neck.

She wrapped her arms around him, holding him together as he let it all out.

“Shh,” she coaxed. “It’s okay.”

He trembled, overcome by joy and relief and all-encompassing warmth.

“Did you like that little preview of my vows?” she chuckled fondly as she pet his hair.

“You’re going to make me cry tomorrow,” he choked, lifting his head to kiss her cheek. “Thank you.”

“Any time you need it,” she repeated his earlier promise, meaning it wholeheartedly. She knew he had always struggled with self-worth and didn’t always believe that he deserved love and good things, so she had sworn to herself always to build him up and support him.

“I’ll text Alya to remind Nino to have tissues on hand,” she added as an afterthought.

“Please,” he whimpered, loosening his hold on her to shift into a comfortable snuggling position. “I’m going to be a mess tomorrow.”

“You’ll still look gorgeous with tears and snot dripping down your face. Don’t worry,” she assured, breaking away to pull down the covers.

Reluctantly, he got up so that they could settle in for sleep.

Marinette arranged herself comfortably and then motioned for Adrien to snuggle in, resting his head on her shoulder, an arm and a leg draped lightly across her.

Fifteen minutes later, just when Marinette was starting to doze off, Adrien spoke in a timid, quiet voice.

“Are you sure you don’t have any regrets about never dating anyone else?”

His vulnerable tone banished the fog of sleep.

“I’m sure,” she responded decidedly. “I don’t need to date anyone else because I wouldn’t be able to fully be myself with anyone but you. You really know me, both sides of me, the good and the bad, so you’re the only one I can truly be the real me with. You’re not trapping me, Adrien; you’re setting me free. You were always right about revealing our identities. Being able to be myself around you without the masks and the secrets and the lies keeps me sane. Knowing that my partner really gets it makes all the stress and the strain bearable…and I wouldn’t have that with anyone but you. Go to sleep, My Love. You’re stuck with me.”

“Okay,” he chuckled softly, leaning in for a gentle, reassuring kiss. “I’d be overjoyed to be stuck with you for many, many years to come.”

“Same,” she hummed happily, nuzzling his hair and running her hand up and down his back soothingly until they both drifted off to sleep.

The End

#Adrinette #Adrienette #Marichat #Miraculous Ladybug #Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction #Adrien Agreste #Chat Noir #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Plagg #Trixx #Kissing #Fluff #Hurt/Comfort #Writing Prompts #Mikau's Writings #Serendipity: Fifty Marichat and Adrienette Kisses

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punksarahreese · 4 years ago

Text

Panic | Reesker |anxious!ava

Content warnings: medical talk (duh), mentions of surgical gore, panic attacks/meltdown, very brief mention of self injury (hitting)

***

Doctor Bekker to the ED, Doctor Ava Bekker to the ED immediately

Ava looked up from the chart she was writing just as the PA system and her pager went of simultaneously. She set the tablet down on the nurse’s station, saying a hasty farewell to the CT floor head nurse, and broke off into a sprint. She made it down the stairs in record time, knowing Connor was in surgery so she would be the only CT fellow prepared to take a trauma.

“Maggie?” She asked breathlessly as she came up to the charge nurse, who looked at her in relief.

“Jason Abrams, 35, came in to the ED with shortness of breath and heart palpitations. Passed out during a family reunion and didn’t wake up until he was in the ambo. Wife’s in there with him and half the reunion is taking up space in my waiting room.”

“Heart attack?” Ava questioned as she slid into the treatment room beside April, pulling on her gloves.

“Doesn’t look like it,” she replied, passing Ava her stethoscope, “Take a listen.”

Dr. Bekker nodded and turned to the patient, “Mr. Abrams? I’m doctor Bekker, I’m going to figure out what’s wrong okay?”

The patient gasped out an acknowledgment, clearly struggling to breathe despite the oxygen cannula. April leaned over to check his stats, humming in annoyance at what she saw, “Stats are falling, down to 90%.”

Ava had been listening to the patient’s heart and lungs and met April’s eye, “I’m hearing a murmur, someone get me a 15 lead EKG and a chest X-ray.”

“Right away, Doctor,” Monique replied, attaching the leads to the patient and setting up the machine. While she did that, Ava turned to the patient again.

“Alright, Jason, so I’m hearing a bit of blood splash back in your heart. We’re going to run some tests to confirm what I’m hearing, do you have any history of heart issues?”

Jason shook his head but was unable to respond, his breathing clearly worsening. His wife spoke up from her worried hovering beside his head, “Heart disease... i-it runs in the family but we’ve had no indication of Jace being at risk.”

“Okay, that’s fine,” Ava nodded and took the EKG reading from Monique, “Right, so we’re going to send you up for an echocardiogram, just to get a look at your heart better.”

“Call radiology, let them know we’re taking him up,” Ava said to Monique, watching as the nurse rushed off to make the call.

“Doctor, what’s wrong with him?” The concern in the wife’s voice was apparent and she was fussing over her husband, who had begun to perspire as his lungs worked overtime.

“I can’t be certain without the echo but I believe what I’m hearing is a defect in your husband’s mitral valve. It is sending blood backwards into the heart and that’s causing less oxygen to get through his body.”

“Oh God, my baby,” Mrs. Abrams cried, “What does that mean?”

“I-I uh, won’t know the full extent until we get the test results back, but... if medication doesn’t fix our issue we may be looking at surgery to fix the valve.”

Ava nodded at April, “Push 10 mg of bisoprolol and page me when you get his scan results, please.”

The blonde ducked out of the room and made her way over to Maggie, who was watching the waiting room with a pained look.

“Well?” She asked, “Are you gonna get the Abrams family reunion out of my ED any time soon?”

“Sounds like mitral regurge to me, Maggie. Might be a while, especially if he needs surgery.”

“Of course,” the nurse sighed, “Alright, let me know.”

“Will do,” with that Ava took off to locate a tablet to add to his chart. She snagged one off the nurses’ station and logged in, charting the course of treatment given. She planned to go back upstairs and meet them in radiology, walking as she noted the enlarged chamber on the EKG. She didn’t even notice she had gotten in the way until she had collided with someone while trying to get on the elevator.

“Woah, will you watch-“ she began to say but stopped herself when she realized who it was, “Oh, sorry, Reese cup.”

Sarah Reese stood in front of her in all her glory, eyebrow raised at the immediate tone change and nickname, “That was a whole 180, Dr. Bekker.”

“Oh hush,” Ava sighed, “You know I didn’t mean it.”

“Only because it was me,” Sarah remarked with a chuckle, “Anyone else and you would have snapped enough to make them cry.”

“You know me that well, do you?”

“Well I’d hope so,” Sarah’s hand had snuck it’s way to her wrist as she responded to the quip, “Busy?”

“Checking my pulse? What’s your diagnosis, Doctor?” Ava teased lightly.

“Hm, heart rate of 100, cheeks flushed and breathing uneven,” Sarah stated factually, “Either you’re nervous or you’ve been running, and you hate running.”

“You caught me,” Ava laughed, “Was in the ED.”

“Ah,” the psych resident nodded and kept hold of the older woman’s wrist, tugging her around the corner to a quieter part of the hallway. She saw Ava was about to protest and held up a hand.

“Shh, humour me, Ava.”

Noting the stern look the other woman gave her, Ava sighed in digression, gesturing for her to go on.

“Is the ED still making you that nervous?”

“I’m just not used to the hustle of it,” Ava sighed, “It’s not a big deal, Reese cup.”

“You sure?”

She nodded, “I’m a CT surgeon, love, I’m not made for the chaos Maggie runs down here.”

Sarah’s cheeks flushed a little at the pet name, though she knew well enough that Ava pulled that card simply to win her over.

“I promise I’m fine,” she continued, a smile playing on her lips at the other woman’s worry.

“You have your earplugs if you need them?”

Ava nodded, patting her scrub pocket. She often got overwhelmed by too much noise at once, a symptom of her newly diagnosed sensory issues, so earplugs helped her stay calm.

“I’ll be okay, Sarah,” Ava promised again, “But I really need to get up to radiology.”

The resident nodded, “Okay, don’t let me keep you.”

Ava saw the little spark of regret in the younger woman’s eyes, knew she felt insecure with her forwardness and was afraid she had pushed her too far. Ava’s anxiety about the emergency department and patient interaction was a sensitive topic, but Reese was too curious for her own good.

“Hey,” Ava grabbed her hand and gave it a light squeeze, “Thank you for caring. Coffee later?”

Sarah smiled a little and nodded, “Yeah.”

“Great,” a mischievous grin and then a quick kiss was pressed to her cheek, “See you, Reese cup.”

“Ava!” The brunette was left standing in the hallway with bright red cheeks, making the other doctor laugh as she went back to the elevator.

The surgeon still had a grin on her face as she made it onto the elevator. She couldn’t help but feel giddy around Sarah, something about her just made the hospital feel 100 times safer. Their relationship started off as merely occupational, speaking when patient cases crossed or in passing around the hospital. They got along fine, of course, but Ava was up in CT way more than in the emergency department, so their paths didn’t cross often. This changed when one day Ava had a bad case, when she lost that instrument inside the patient’s heart.

She had a panic attack, rushed out of the operating room and leaving Connor to close the patient. He had stormed into the locker room, starting to yell at her, but stopped when he saw the state Ava was in. She was clearly shaking, cheeks streaked with tears and makeup. He tried to talk her down but she wouldn’t listen, didn’t want his pity, especially not after he had been a major ass all day.

Eventually Connor gave up, leaving the room with a dramatic sigh. Ava had immediately dropped to the floor when the door closed, slumping against a locker as she sobbed quietly. She didn’t want to act like this, didn’t want to be so dramatic when they saved the patient, but she couldn’t help it. What if they hadn’t saved him? What if they missed the instrument and had closed him up? She had let down Connor and Dr. Latham, but mostly, she let down herself.

Ava hastily wiped away her tears when she heard a knock at the door, cursing her anxiety for making her act like such a baby. She tried to put on a brave face but stayed slumped down, letting her hair hide her for the most part.

“Doctor Bekker?” Sarah had come around the corner, “Doctor Rhodes said you were panicking. Are you okay?”

“J-just like him,” the blonde scoffed, “Goes and tells people about my mistake and calls psych on me? Of course.”

Sarah just sighed, crouching down in front of the older woman, “Are you okay?”

“Oh I’m peachy keen, Doctor Reese,” she replied sarcastically through her tears. It’s not that she wanted to be mean to Sarah, the younger woman didn’t deserve that, but it was her defence mechanism. She hated to show weakness, so she lashed out. It was something she had never been able to grow out of.

“Ava... I’m not here as a psych resident, not if you don’t want me to be. I can be here as a friend, or even as a stranger, I just want to help.”

The CT surgeon had huffed at that, swiping at the stray tears still creeping down her cheeks, “Nothing to help with, Sarah. I’m just ashamed with my work today.”

“Ava... this is classic signs of a panic attack,” even though she said she wasn’t there as a doctor, Sarah couldn’t help the psychoanalysis, “What happened?”

“Lost an instrument in a patient’s heart,” Ava groaned at the sheer stupidity, “Had to reopen him and then just left Connor to clean up my mess. I fucked up.”

“No, Ava, you just made a mistake,” Sarah looked at the door before sitting down on the floor beside the other woman, “Human error happens, please don’t beat yourself up over it.”

“I could have killed him, Sarah,” she hit her leg with a closed fist out of frustration, “I just keep reliving the moment and all the ways it could have gone wrong.”

“The important thing is you saved him.”

Ava laughed bitterly, “Barely. How could I be so careless?”

“What was it?”

“The end of a suction catheter...”

“Ava,” Sarah reached a hand out to cautiously hold hers, saving her whitened knuckles from the angry fist they were in, “That’s so small and they shouldn’t come off that easy, of course you wouldn’t expect to lose something like that inside a patient. It was a mistake and you fixed it, please don’t beat yourself up.”

“I let Dr. Latham down... and Connor was so mad...”

“I know, and I know that’s scary,” Doctor Reese agreed, “But you fixed it and all you can do is monitor your patient and grow from the mistake.”

Ava sighed and looked down at their hands, still tightly clasped together. She didn’t remember twining their fingers together or leaning closer to Sarah, but it felt right at the time. The younger girl was her source of stability in that moment, someone she knew wouldn’t judge her or break her trust. It was that moment that Ava decided she would quite like to be more friendly with the psych resident, as she seemed like someone worth knowing.

The rest was history, really. They got closer, became friends over time. Walks for coffee on breaks and discussing cases over lunch quickly became habitual for them. Reese would stop to talk to Ava as she walked through the CICU, something she had never done before. They just worked, the two seemed to realize, and their bond only got strong. It escalated quickly one night, when they got a little too wine drunk on a well deserved night off. Sarah’s usual apprehension disappeared with every drink, returning Ava’s relentless flirting without hesitation. One drunken kiss and they knew, there was no turning back and to be honest neither of them wanted it any other way.

That had been almost eight months ago and somehow they had kept their relationship under wraps in the hospital. Sarah was the one who helped diagnose Ava’s panic and sensory processing disorders, so it was kind of an issue that they were together. She was going to have to switch to a different psychiatrist if word of their relationship spread, but that would be the least of her problems.

Ava knew it would get out eventually, probably the second Maggie caught wind of it, but she didn’t mind. She knew her feelings for Sarah and was unabashed about her bisexuality at that point. It’s not like they were the first doctors in this hospital to be involved, much less the last. She knew Connor might take it a bit hard, felt bad for stringing him along, but really he deserved it in some twisted way. Maybe it would hurt his ego just enough to crush his God complex; losing Ava to a female psych resident.

Ava was still lost in thought as the elevator doors opened to the radiology floor. She jumped when a medical student brushed past her with a halfhearted apology, tearing from her memories to walk off onto the floor. She found her way to the echo waiting area, finding the radiologist quickly.

“Jason Abrams,” the tech said with a terse tone, “You’re gonna want to see this.”

“Mitral regurge?” Ava guessed before she even saw the scan, knowing she was probably correct in her first diagnosis.

“Correct,” he replied, “Very progressed too. Looking at maybe a few weeks before complete prolapse.”

“Poor man.”

“Meds won’t fix it, then?” The tech guessed.

Ava studied the scan before shaking her head, “No, too far gone. I’m probably going to have to replace the valve ASAP, depending on how his body responds to the beta blockers.”

“Shame,” the man shook his head, “Good luck, Doctor Bekker.”

“Thanks.”

With that Ava motioned a nurse in and asked her to take Mr. Abrams up to the cardiac ICU so she could speak to him and his wife in a more comfortable location. The nurse nodded and disappeared to do just that, leaving Ava to make her way upstairs on her own.

She took out her phone and made a call as she was in the elevator alone.

“This is Doctor Reese.”

“Hey, Reese cup,” Ava smiled at the professional tone her girlfriend had answered the call with. She never looked at her caller ID and always made a habit of a professional answer.

“Oh, hi, Aves.”

“You’re cute when you sound all professional,” Ava teased.

“Oh hush,” she could almost see Sarah rolling her eyes, “What’s up?”

“Might have to push our coffee date back a little,” Ava began apologetically, “I might have to do a valve replacement now now.”

“Okay, no worries,” of course Sarah was immediately understanding, “Good luck with your surgery then.”

“Thank you, you’re a doll.”

“So you tell me,” Sarah laughed, “Your slang is sneaking in again, by the way.”

“Is it?” Ava pretended to be shocked, stepping off the elevator, “Hadn’t noticed.”

“Mhm, makes the accent even cuter.”

“Aw, bokkie~” she made sure to use the Afrikaans pet name that Sarah found embarrassingly adorable, “You flatter me.”

“What does that mean again?” Sarah asked after a moment of hesitation and Ava knew she was probably blushing like mad.

“Little doe,” The blonde supplied, “I’d say it suits you.”

“Cheesy.”

“Always,” Ava shot back, “Okay I’m up in the CICU, I’ll page you later?”

“Of course, Doctor Bekker,” Sarah’s voice changed, though not unfriendly,” I’ll see you then.”

“Charles?” Ava laughed, “Bye, love.”

“Bye, Aves.”

Ava sighed as she rounded to corner to her patient’s room, pocketing her phone, “Here goes nothing.”

***

Forty minutes later Ava was scrubbing in, taking off her rings to wash her hands thoroughly. She was humming quietly to herself, trying to ground her thoughts before surgery.

“A valve replacement?” The door had opened to reveal an annoyed Connor, “You weren’t going to page me?”

“My patient, Connor.”

“I’m the trauma surgeon, Ava!”

“You were busy,” she retorted, “And besides he wasn’t even really a trauma. I can do a valve replacement on my own, thanks.”

“You need an assist.”

“You just saying that to steal my lead surgeon position,” she rolled her eyes, “Learn to share, Connor.”

“I’m scrubbing in,” he grumbled.

“I’m lead surgeon,” Ava shook her head as she brushed past him, “Accept that or get off my case.”

She went into the OR and accepted her gown and gloves from the scrub nurse. As she was tying up her gown, she made eye contact with Jason who looked rather nervous.

She gestured for Marty to start the anesthesia, getting into her position and rolling her shoulders a little. Connor stalked into the room and got his gloves and gown, not acknowledging her placement.

“No temper tantrums in my OR, Connor.”

The surgery started completely as normal. Eventually their argument fizzled out and they fell back into the familiar rhythm of operating together. The two CT fellows may have had their ups and downs but there was no doubt that they worked well together in surgery.

“Mechanical valve?” Connor asked, as they had already removed the damaged mitral valve.

“On back order,” the scrub nurse said, “We don’t have this size right now.”

“Oh for fok’s sake,” Ava muttered, glaring sharply at Connor when he immediately mocked her accent.

“It’s funny, Ava, lighten up.”

“I don’t mock yours, Connor.”

“Size 3 porcine valve then,” Connor changed the subject, not needing to start another fight during the hardest part of the surgery.

“They degenerate in half the amount of time,” Ava groaned, “And blood thinners wouldn’t have been a problem for him.”

Connor didn’t answer and they continued the replacement, not speaking other than to direct each other’s movements or ask for other instruments. They had transplanted the valve just fine and things seemed to work out perfectly. Ava was just about to ask for the proper suture size for the pericardium when the monitor started beeping like crazy.

“Shit,” Connor cursed lowly, “Marty?”

“Afib.”

“Why?” Ava looked desperately at Connor, “What happened?”

Connor was fumbling to figure out the issue amidst the rapid, uneven beating of the patient’s heart. Ava cursed herself when she realized the issue.

“Valve must have thrown a clot.”

“Already? How?”

“I don’t know, Connor!” Ava was too overwhelmed to think straight let alone answer his mindless questions, “Internal paddles!”

They worked to regain proper rhythm, shocking the heart to restart its beating. That didn’t seem to help though, unfortunately the opposite happened. Just as they had gotten the atrial fibrillation under control, another thing went wrong.

“Blood pressure’s dropping,” a nurse called out, making Ava look up at the monitors for clarification.

“Connor.”

“I know,” he replied, trying to figure out what had gone wrong.

“Doctor Bekker,” the anesthesiologist shouted just as the machine went wild again, “He’s in vfib!”

“Jesus,” Ava’s own heart felt like it was about to jump out of her chest, “Starting intracardiac massage.” Ava began internal compressions as she muttered under her breath, “Come on, Jason, you can’t die on all of them.”

Connor was ordering the nurses around to get epinephrine and recharging the paddles. Ava could barely breathe in the moment, questioning how everything went wrong and what had even happened.

“Charging,” Connor was saying, “Clear!”

Ava moved out of the way so Connor could shock the heart, but it didn’t help the rhythm any. Ava ordered another round of epi, restarting internal compressions.

“How long’s he been down?”

“Three minutes.”

“Damn,” Connor sighed, “Charge again.”

The next bout of electricity didn’t help to restart the heart and it was clear that this wouldn’t be resolved so easily. Ava didn’t give up on compressions, still mumbling half to herself and half to the patient. By the time they had reached the ten minute mark with no improvement, Connor had to grab Ava’s wrist to get her attention.

“Ava,” he halted her movements, “Doctor Bekker, he’s been down for too long. I’m sorry.”

“No...”

“You did what you could, Ava,” Connor’s voice was softer than ever as he tried to keep her calm, “It’s time to call it.”

“Connor...” Ava’s voice sounded pained as she glanced at the clock, “... time of death, 13:47.”

The other surgeon noticed how hard Ava was shaking when they left the OR to scrub out. He watched as she washed her hands roughly, her whole body trembling. No matter how many patients they lost, it would still affect Ava like the first every time.

“Ava...”

She just shook her head, not able to make eye contact, sliding her rings back on with a frustrated movement.

“You tried your best,” he tried again, “And we won’t know what happened until an autopsy’s done. Don’t blame yourself.”

“I don’t want your foking pity, Connor.” Ava snapped, accent even thicker as she held back tears, turning on her heels to rush out of the room.

“Damn it,” Connor cursed, pulling out his phone as the door slammed shut behind the panicking woman.

***

Ava had made it to the CT doctor’s lounge before promptly collapsing on the floor. She let out a gasping breath as the panic overtook her, shame flooding her system at this reaction. Why couldn’t she just be a normal doctor and depersonalize from the loss? Instead every dead patient and lost cause had to make her feel like she was the one who was dying.

She shook her hands out aggressively, trying to channel her anxiety and frustration into motion. It didn’t help though and a pained sob ripped its way from her throat. Covering her ears as if to block out the sounds of her own anxiety, Ava was shaking even harder than before. She knew this was a full blown panic attack and she should call Sarah to get her meds, but she could bring herself to breathe much less find her phone.

“What did I do? F-fuck where did I... w-hat went wrong?”

She was hyperventilating at this point, could feel her heart beating rapidly in her own chest. The sensation only made things worse, made her thing about how Jason’s heart was no longer beating because of her. Ava was so wrapped up in her panic that she didn’t hear the door open, she didn’t even notice when someone was calling her name.

“Ava?” A familiar voice was just barely audible as she still had her hands over her ears. She felt someone sit down on the floor in front of her and could just barely make out a mass of curly hair through her tears.

“Ava, honey,” Sarah was trying to gently catch her attention, “Look at me. Ava, you’re okay.”

“S-Sarah?”

“I’m right here, see?” Sarah reached her arm out but didn’t touch her girlfriend, knowing that touch while she was panicking could only make things worse. Sarah frowned as she let out another shaky sob, “Breathe, baby. You’re okay, I promise.”

“No!” Ava suddenly shrieked, clasped her hands even tighter over her ears. Sarah flinched at the outburst and apologized softly.

“I’m... it’s not- not okay.”

“Okay, I’m sorry,” Sarah agreed, “What’s not okay?”

“He’s dead,” Ava spat, “He’s dead... dead because of m-me.”

Sarah sighed, “Your patient? Oh, Ava, I’m sure you did everything to save him.”

“He- he just...” her sentence was cut off as she whined in frustration, hands coming off her head to smack her legs.

“Hey, hey, Ava,” Sarah said firmly, “Don’t hurt yourself.”

“I- I don’t care!”

“I know, but I do,” Sarah reached out a hand gently but didn’t touch her, “Can I hold your hands? I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to.”

Ava looked at her with tear-filled eyes, “Too much.”

“Too much?” Sarah repeated, “What is? The lights or the sound?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Okay,” Sarah stood up to go shut off the lights, sighing when Ava cried even harder when she left. “I’m coming back, baby,” she said as she rushed back over once the room was darkened significantly. She sat back down in front of Ava, who had her face hidden in her forearms and was slouched over painfully.

“Ava,” she tried to get her attention again, “Do you have your earplugs?”

The blonde made some kind of confirming sound, shifting in a way that Sarah saw as an invitation to get them from her pocket. She spoke softly as she did so, making sure not to spook her girlfriend.

“Okay, I have them right here,” she said as she held the orange foam in her hand, “But I wanna talk to you first, then you can have these and we can be as quiet as you need.”

“Don’t want... to talk.”

“You don’t have to, but I would like to talk to you, is that okay? I missed you today.”

Ava didn’t respond, though she did peek through her arms a little bit. A minuscule nod preceded a little sniffle, making Sarah’s heart ache at the pain her girlfriend was in.

“Can you take a deep breath for me, Ava?”

Ava hesitated but eventually a shaky breath left her lungs, her arms slowly coming away from her face. Sarah smiled sadly at her, noting the makeup streaked down her cheeks and her red eyes; this had been a bad panic attack.

“Hey there, pretty girl,” Sarah said gently, hoping to make her feel a bit better with the lighthearted words. Ava squeaked at that, lip still quivering as her anxiety hadn’t completely left yet.

“Breathe,” Sarah reminded her, taking her own deep breath to prompt the surgeon to do the same. This next one was less shaky, though a big sniffle preceded it.

“Good,” Sarah smiled again, “You’re okay, baby.”

“Not... not really.”

“Not now, maybe,” Sarah agreed, “But you’re safe and I’m going to help you.”

“I... I- let him down, S-Sarah.”

“Who?” Sarah prompted, shifting a little bit closer without touching her yet.

“Connor... Latham,” Ava’s eyes welled back up with tears as she spoke the last name, “J-Jason.”

“Oh, Ava. You didn’t let anyone down. You did your very best as a surgeon, okay?”

“H-how do you know that?”

Sarah sighed, “Baby?”

“Y-yeah?”

“C’mere,” the resident opened her arms, an invitation for Ava to find comfort in them. The older woman hesitated, still half in panic mode, but Sarah’s gentle eyes won her over in the end.

Sarah smiled sadly as Ava half crawled the short distance to slump in her arms, her face quickly finding its hiding place in her neck. Sarah just wrapped her arms around her securely, holding her girlfriend’s shaking body in an attempt to slow her heart rate.

“You, Ava Bekker, are an amazing surgeon,” she began softly, “You work so tirelessly, you’re so selfless when it comes to patients. You love your job, Ava, and you’re insanely good at it. How did you let anyone down today?”

“He... he didn’t- didn’t make it.”

“That happens,” Sarah replied, “Unfortunately. He wasn’t your first loss and he won’t be your last. I know you hurt for him and I know it’s a horrible feeling. You did everything you could, though.”

“How do you know that?” Ava repeated, pained eyes meeting Sarah’s.

“Because you’re the most caring and meticulous surgeon I know. I know you and you certainly wouldn’t give up unless it was the only thing to do.”

“I hate this.”

“I know, love,” Sarah’s gentle hand came up to take the elastic out of Ava’s hair, “I’m so sorry.”

Ava leaned into the loving touch as she smoothed down her hair, her breathing finally even. Tears were still steadily falling down her cheeks, falling into the crook of Sarah’s neck and staining her dress shirt.

“I have your pills,” Sarah said softly, “You want one? It might help.”

There was an extended silence before another minuscule nod. Sarah went to pull back, trying to get the bottle out of her coat, but Ava whined and held tightly onto her.

“Hey,” Sarah cooed softly, “Calm down, Aves. I’m not going anywhere. I just wanna get you some Ativan and water, okay? Then we can sit on the couch together and calm down.”

It took some gentle persuasion before Ava untangled herself from Sarah and stood on shaky legs. Her girlfriend smiled at her sadly, taking her trembling hand to lead her to one of the couches in the lounge. She pressed gently on Ava’s shoulders to get her to sit, leading down to drop a kiss to her forehead.

“Just getting some water,” she promised as she made her way to the counter, grabbing a familiar mug of Ava’s off the drying rack. She filled it with cold water from the cooler, taking out the bottle of sedatives and grabbing one for her as well. Sarah turned back to find Ava curled into herself on the couch, face buried in her hands again. Coming over, she crouched in front of the surgeon and nudged her leg. “Here, my love,” her voice was impossibly gentle, “You need to relax.”

Ava frowned but moved her hands, taking the cup and allowing Sarah to place the pill under her tongue. She let the thing melt, wincing at the taste, but knew the sublingual method would get it into her bloodstream faster. She took a sip of water when it was gone, finally realizing how dehydrated she was from crying so long. She finished the mug in under a minute, making Sarah chuckle lowly when she took the cup back.

The brunette set the cup down on the table, sitting beside Ava on the couch. She held out her hand, the earplugs nestled on her palm like a peace offering. Her girlfriend gave her a pained smile and took them back, debating on if she wanted them in or not.

“Sarah?” Ava sighed shakily, “I’m... I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for, Aves?”

“Being such a pain,” Ava mumbled, “This was highly dramatic of me.”

Sarah shook her head, a gentle hand coming to rest on Ava’s thigh, “This is my job, babe, I can assure you that this was an entirely nature response to stress. You have two diagnoses that make this 100x times harder and you still manage to be an amazing surgeon; sometimes you’re going to have meltdowns.”

“I still hate it.”

“I know,” Sarah nodded, “But we got through it, right?”

Ava shrugged again and they fell into silence for a moment, Ava letting out a very shaky sigh. Her girlfriend turned to look at her, smiling at what she saw. The Ativan had clearly taken affect, Ava’s eyes were drooping and her breathing had evened out finally. She looked at Sarah wearily, mumbling something under her breath.

“Tired?”

“Mm,” Ava agreed, “Don’t like pills. Wanna... be awake.”

“I know, baby,” Sarah laughed, “But they help, don’t they?”

Another nod, Ava blinked sleepily at her, “Hug?”

The younger woman immediately opened her arms, pulling her close once again. Ava sighed and leaned into her embrace, finally calm for the first time in hours.

“You can nap here, if you want,” Sarah murmured, “No sense moving to a on call room or anything. You don’t need to see patients right now, Doctor Latham would understand.”

“No... stay...”

“Ava,” Sarah chuckled and shimmied until she was laying down on the couch, pulling her girlfriend down with her, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Ava seemed happy with their current position, shifting her weight on top of Sarah and snuggling down comfortably. She handed her earplugs to Sarah, letting her put them in her ears because her hands were still unsteady. With the sound of the room dramatically decreased and her eyes heavy from the sedative, she felt her anxiety ebbing away to exhaustion.

“Get some rest,” she heard Sarah’s muffled words, “You’re safe and you did so well today.” Ava felt soft hands on her back, smoothing down her unruly hair again and rubbing gently at the tense muscles of her upper back. She sighed, finally letting herself relax into her girlfriend’s safe embrace.

“You don’t have to be strong all the time. It’s okay to feel things, yeah? You know I’m always here.”

Ava nodded against her chest, “Ja,” the Afrikaans slipping into her vocabulary as she drifted between sleep and wake, “I... love you, Bokkie.”

Sarah’s cheeks flushed and she was very glad that Ava couldn’t see that reaction to tease her about it, “I love you too, Aves.”

***

Connor rubbed at his face tiredly, making his way down the hallway. He knew he must have left his jacket around the CT floor somewhere, just couldn’t remember where. He reached the doctor’s lounge, hoping he would find it thrown across a chair or something so he could go home. He did not expect to find the sight in front of him when he opened the door.

In the darkened room, the minimal sunlight from the windows highlighted the two figures on the couch closest to the door. Ava was fast asleep on top of Sarah Reese, neon orange earplugs peeking out from under her hair and makeup streaked down her cheeks. Sarah had her arms protectively around Ava’s waist and the younger woman was still awake. She was occupying herself by playing with Ava’s soft blonde hair, the gentle gesture evidently tender. Connor was not expecting her to lean down and press a kiss to Ava’s head, a loving action he immediately knew indicated something way beyond friendship.

He must have made a sound, shifted too heavy or something, because Sarah jumped and looked up. He could see her cheeks turn bright red with embarrassment and knew she wasn’t expecting to be caught in such a vulnerable situation with the least vulnerable surgeon in Gaffney.

“Doctor Rhodes...” Sarah’s voice was a barely audible whisper, clearly trying not to wake the exhausted woman in her arms.

Connor hushed her, shaking his head with a small smile. Maybe it was better this way, even if his initial reaction was the wish to curse and fight for Ava like he always did. Seeing her like this, soft and vulnerable in a way even he had scarcely seen, made him know. Ava loved the psych resident, and the feeling was mutual. She clearly found her safety net in Sarah, and who was he to fight that when he knew how much she needed that?

“Thank you,” he whispered, pointing at Ava with a sad look. He grabbed his jacket off the desk chair, waving goodbye to Sarah and taking one last glance at his beloved fellow surgeon in her arms.

Take care of her, Reese

#pls give feedback this is my first med oneshot 😭#tumblr’s paragraph limit hates me #anxious!ava #chicago med #ava bekker #sarah reese #reesker #connor rhodes #chicago med fanfiction #reesker fanfiction #my-writing

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leviackermanscleaningbuddy · 5 years ago

Text

The Smell of You-Finale

Okay. I lied. :3 THIS is the final part of my BTS!Vampire one-shot. Find the previous 7 parts on my masterlist! :) And damn, I’m going to apologize now, because this got long. Enjoy!

Tags: BTS, BTS One-Shot, Bangtan Boys, Beyond the Scene, Bangtan Seonyendan, Bulletproof Boy Scouts, poly!BTS, BTS x you, BTS!Vampires, Bangtan!Vampires, Vampire AU, seokjin x you, yoongi x you, hoseok x you, namjoon x you, jimin x you, taehyung x you, jungkook x you

Genre: Fluff

“Hey, (Y/N)! Happy Birthday!”

You glance up from wiping down the equipment in one of the ER’s many curtained patient rooms to see BamBam, one of the male nurses, waving at you as he pauses in the doorway, a grin on his face as he observes you with bright eyes and a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“Hey, thanks, B.” You laugh back, tossing some of the used disinfectant wipes into the trash can across the room expertly, before you move to push the IV pole back into its appropriate corner of the room.

“Any fun plans?” BamBam asks, coming into the room and moving to help fold up some of the clean towels that are sitting on the counter. “That incredibly good looking boyfriend of yours better be planning something special.” He shoots you a suggestive look over his shoulder, brow cocked as he shoves the newly folded towels away into their place in the cupboard.

“They…” You start to say, before catching yourself, hoping BamBam didn’t hear your slight slip of tongue. “He always does.” You offer the other nurse a smile, as you crouch to grab the EKG machine off the floor, turning to replace it back onto the crash cart.

“Actually, you know what.” BamBam moves beside you, surprising you by plucking the defibrillator from your hands, before he bumps you with his hip in the direction of the door, shooting you a wink and a nod of his head. “Get out of here. You can take off a few minutes early. No one will notice. I’ll cover for you.” “Really?” You ask, slightly dubious, although, looking around, you realize that you’ve successfully almost finished cleaning the room anyway. Offering BamBam a grateful smile, you strip off your protective gown and gloves and toss them in the trash. “Thanks, B. I owe you one.”

The male nurse shrugs, leaning over to pick up some more of the equipment from the floor before he waves a hand toward you and the door. “Consider it a birthday gift.” He grins at you over his shoulder as you head toward the exit, waving you off once more with enthusiasm. “Have a good birthday, beautiful. And enjoy your weekend!”

*******

Walking through the door and into the apartment, you are not the least bit surprised or caught off guard, when as soon as your sneakered foot hits the edge of the entryway, all seven boys are jumping out from behind various pieces of furniture, flipping the lights on as they do so to reveal balloons and piles of presents and a flaming cake, as they all excitedly surround you, shouting exuberantly, “Happy Birthday, (Y/N)!”

“Wow.” You laugh, dropping your bag onto the ground at your feet, as the vampires squeeze you into a tight group hug, nearly stealing your breath, as you say breathlessly, “I thought we were going to do something small this year, guys.”

“Whatever.” Jimin snorts, rolling his eyes at you as they pull back to look into your face. “Like we’d go small on the biggest day of the year.”

“I thought that was Christmas.” You joke, as they usher you as a group toward the sofa and push you down into the cushions, Taehyung sitting down on one side of you while Jimin takes the other, Jungkook excitedly crouching down on the floor to slide presents to the spot beside your feet.

“No, Christmas is the second biggest day of the year.” Jin scolds, carefully carrying the brightly lit cake through the crowd of boys, and holding it in front of your face, the flickering flames warming your skin. “Your birthday is the first.”

“Blow out your candles, sparrow.” Hobi speaks up, sitting cross legged on the floor beside Jungkook, who has successfully moved all of the presents to a large pile before you. The older brother sends you a wink over the tops of the flames.

“And don’t forget to make a wish!” Taehyung chimes in, his chin resting on your shoulder, his dark eyes reflecting the lights of the candles as he watches the flickering flames intensely from beside you.

“Okay, okay.” You chuckle, leaning forward to purse your lips over the candles Jin still holds in front of you. Closing your eyes, you think of a wish, and then taking in a deep breath, open your eyes and blow out the candles in one go.

The boys clap, and as Jin retreats to set the cake back into the kitchen, Jungkook, eyes wide with wonder and happiness, calls out to you over the noise, “What’d you wish for, noona?”

“She can’t tell us or else it won’t come true. Everyone knows that.” Yoongi grumbles under his breath, reaching out to cuff Jungkook playfully on the ear, making the younger boy yelp in surprise.

“Anway.” Jin comes back into the room, hands on his hips as he shoots the brothers’ a stern glare. “We should open your presents.”

“Wait, wait!” Jimin calls from beside you, leaning forward to look at Jin, his palm resting on your thigh, silver rings glinting in the lights as he lightly drums his fingers along the fabric of your scrubs. “Can we tell her about the surprise first?”

Jin glances to Namjoon, who shrugs slightly in response, and then turns to you, as the younger brothers suddenly start to hum with excitement beside you. “Well, we thought we’d do something different this birthday.”

“Something small?” You tease, lips quirking up into a slight smile, as Namjoon grins at you, flashing white fangs.

“Not exactly, gorgeous.” He rubs the back of his neck as if in thought, and then the smile reappears on his lips, as his gaze meets your own, and he continues. “We thought that we could all spend time with you. Tomorrow, the maknae line will get you for the day. And then Sunday, the hyung line gets our time. We already have activities for the days planned.” He pauses, seeming to consider something. “Only if you’re up for it all of course.”

“Are you kidding?” You feel the excitement of the younger vampires trickling into your own stomach, the longer you sit beside them and bask under their triumphant grins. “That sounds absolutely perfect!”

“Good. Now.” Yoongi settles back into the couch on the other side of the living room, as Hobi moves up to sit beside him, long legs tucked beneath him. “Can we open these presents so we can go to bed?”

Jimin and Taehyung roll their eyes at their older brother’s dry words, and you laugh, reaching out to intertwine your fingers with first Jimin’s and then Taehyung’s fingers, as you sit back into the couch cushions and nod. “Okay. I’m ready.”

Jin goes first, as is always tradition, and when you open the small jewelry box and see the delicately crafted and obviously expensive necklace nestled inside the tissue paper, you can’t help the gasp that escapes your lips as you glance up at the eldest brother, who is watching you closely to gauge your reaction.

“Holy shit, Jin. This is gorgeous.” You breathe out, reaching into the box to carefully lift the necklace from the folds of paper and hold it up to the light, admiring the way the lone stone, set into the bar of precious metal, glints in the overhead lights.

It is your birthstone, you realize after watching the twirling necklace for a moment, and beside it, engraved into the thick metal bar, are all of the boys’ initials in curling, elegant cursive.

KSJ. MYG. JHS. KNJ. PJM. KTH. JJK.

“Do you like it?” JIn’s voice is low in your ear, as he takes the ends of the chain from your fingers gently, leaning over you to fasten the necklace behind your neck, brushing your hair back into place as he straightens and glances down to admire the way the necklace lies against the base of your throat.

“I love it.” You murmur, reaching up to run your fingers over the cool metal once more, before you look up at him with a smile. “Thank you.” Jin nods, returning your smile, and then he leans over, pressing a quick kiss to your lips as he breathes out, “Happy birthday, princess.” It is Yoongi’s turn next.

He crouches before you, and pressing a square present into your hands, his lips pull back in the briefest of gummy smiles as he meets your gaze, eyes bright copper beneath black bangs, before he says in a low voice, “Happy birthday, baby.” Tearing into the wrapping paper, your eyes widen as you catch sight of the revealed corner of the present, and meeting Yoongi’s watchful expression with a look of utter surprise, you manage to gasp out, “Yoongi! No way, you didn’t!”

The full gummy smile emerges, and the older vampire suddenly seems a bit embarrassed at your absolute astonishment, nodding at you as you pull away the rest of the wrapping paper. “I found it.” Your mouth drops open as you pull the old record album carefully from the remaining paper and run your hands reverently over the front, the embossed, blackened letters that announce “The White Album” and then, fingertips growing lighter, over the scribbled signatures of all of the members of “The Beatles.”

“How did you do this?” You ask, glancing up at Yoongi once more.

He shrugs, still somewhat embarrassed by your reaction. “I have connections in the music industry.” Setting aside the album carefully, as if it were a precious stone, you throw your arms around Yoongi’s neck, catching him slightly off guard as you smack a kiss first onto his cheek, and then onto his lips. “Thank you, Yoongs! I love it.” Hobi follows Yoongi, shoving a package of bright paper excitedly into your hands as he grins his customary sunshine smile in your direction, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he exclaims, “Open mine now, little sparrow!” “Oh my gosh, Hobes!” You grin, pulling his present from its packaging, as you laugh happily. “You are seriously the greatest!”

You wrap the soft blanket around your body, snuggling your face down inside the fabric, printed with meme-like faces of Hoseok himself, and sticking your arms through the arm holes in the blanket, you wiggle your fingers in Hobi’s direction. “I have wanted a Snuggy for so long, Jung Hoseok. And to have your face on it, it’s just too…” You chef’s kiss as he laughs at your reaction.

“What’s a snuggy?” You hear Jimin ask Jungkook quietly, who simply shrugs his shoulders in response.

“It’s a human thing. Apparently humans get cold easily and a blanket with sleeves is the best way to solve that.” Jungkook replies to his brother, making you hide a smile as you lean forward to kiss Hoseok.

“Thank you, Hobi.” You pinch his cheeks between your fingers, making him grin once more, fangs flashing against the pink skin of his lips.

“Of course. Happy birthday, Sparrow.”

Namjoon’s present is right up his alley, and when you open the wrapping to reveal one of the oldest and most original copies of your favorite childhood book, signed by the author himself, you can’t help the tears that well in your eyes, as you glance over at the leader, saying softly, “Oh, Joonie. This is perfect.”

Your fingers stroke lovingly down the spine of the book, weathered and faded, and then across the letters of the title “The Last Unicorn,” etched in gold flaked cursive on the front of the red cover, and you can almost hear your father’s voice reading the story to you as you flip carefully through the opaque pages, the ink lightened with time.

“Joon.” You say again, choking on the words, and Namjoon nods, letting you know that he understands what you’re trying to say.

“I know.” He leans forward, large hands going on your knees, before planting a gentle kiss on your lips. “Happy birthday, gorgeous.”

Jimin places his present into your lap next from beside you, and flashing him a smile and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, you pull the paper from the gift.

“Oh…” You breathe out at the sight of his present, carefully reaching in to pull the framed drawing from the confines of the paper. “Jimin.”

You can feel his eyes on you, watching, feeling out your reaction, as you hold up the picture and examine it, breath caught in your throat as your eyes scan the painting.

Jimin has painted the hospital where you work-the granite stones of the building rosy in the fading light of the sun, showering the edges of the walls with shades of purple and orange and pink, the glass front doors reflecting the setting sun’s rays, the rooftop courtyard- your favorite place to retreat after a long shift-warm with sunshine, the small trees flowering with pink cherry blossoms.

“This is absolutely incredible.” You say, getting teary again as you turn to face the younger vampire beside you, who offers you a shy smile in return, eyes crinkling with the upward turn of his plush lips.

“I know how much you love that place. Even when you complain about it.” Jimin grins now, revealing sharp fangs, and you set down the picture to throw your arms around him, before fitting your lips to his for a brief kiss of thanks. “Happy birthday, baby girl.”

“Finally. It’s my turn.” Taehyung states, plopping his hastily wrapped present into your lap, as he wiggles his eyebrows at you and shoots you a boxy, teasing grin. “You’re going to love this, sweet cheeks.”

“Tae, if this is something inappropriate….” Jin says from the far side of the room, a warning tone in his words.

“Hyung, please.” Taehyung shoots him an offended look. “Like I would ever. There’s kids present.” He motions vaguely to Jungkook with a wave of his hand, as the younger brother lets out a sound of protest, which his older brother promptly ignores.

Opening Taehyung’s present somewhat warily, you start to laugh as soon as you catch sight of what is inside, holding your sides as Taehyung watches you with knowing amusement, a grin still on his lips, as you gasp out, “Kim Taehyung! Good lord, man!”

He wiggles his eyebrows at you once again, and you stifle back another giggle, as you pull the present from the rest of its wrapping and hold it up for the others to see. “Okay. There’s a story behind this.”

“There always is with Taehyung.” Yoongi rolls his eyes, yet his tone is good natured.

“Okay. So.” You gather your composure, taking a few deep breaths to keep away the giggle threatening the back of your throat. “Tae visited me at work one day, and I was complaining to him about how the hospital issued sneakers are so boring, and it’s not fair, and so,” You hold up the other sneaker for the other vampires to see, laughing once again. “He made me a custom pair.”

The sneakers in question were once white, but Taehyung has taken it upon himself to doodle things across their every surface-funny faces, cartoon characters, goofy inside jokes, overly exaggerated caricatures of all the boys-making them now wildly colorful and not even close to boring.

“I’m glad you like them.” Taehyung leans in, whispering in your ear, before he bends around you to kiss you briefly, his hand lingering on your waist as he pulls back. “Happy birthday, sweet cheeks.”

Jungkook is last, and you watch as he almost bashfully places his gift into your outstretched hands, blushing slightly as you begin to take off the paper. “It’s honestly not much, noona….” “Stop, Kook.” You wave your hand at him, shooting him a glare, as you continue to open his present. “I’ll love whatever it is regardless.”

He grows quiet, watching you tear away the last of the wrapping paper with worried eyes, though he shouldn’t have been nervous, because as his gift falls into your waiting hands, you gasp loudly and meet his gaze with surprise and excitement, “Kook! How did you know?”

Jungkook mumbles something under his breath in explanation, his cheeks reddening once again, as you hold up the stethoscope case, looking at it closely, as you observe the intricate patterns in the fabric. And then, you notice something that astonishes you even more, and you look up to meet Jungkook’s gaze, mouth open as you ask in disbelief, “Kookie. Did you design this fabric?”

He hesitates, and then nods, and you knew you had recognized the drawings on the dark fabric. They looked familiar because they were doodles you had seen Jungkook working on for the past few months in his freetime, covering every page of his sketchbook.

“Kook, I absolutely love it. It’s perfect. Thank you.” You slide off the couch onto the floor and wrap him in your arms, pressing kisses to both of his cheeks, before you carefully place a chaste kiss onto his lips, making his cheeks darken more than ever as you pull back and flash him a smile. “Seriously. It’s great.” “Happy birthday, Noona.” Jungkook finally grins, his fangs flashing, as he accepts your thanks and words of praise, his blush lightening.

“Thank you all.” You glance around with affection, warmth pooling into the pit of your stomach as you meet the seven pairs of copper eyes with fondness, before you say fervently, “This is the best birthday a girl could ever ask for.”

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

The next morning, you wake up flushed and overheated, thanks to Taehyung curled against your back, arm resting heavily across your waist, your head on Jungkook’s firm and steadily breathing chest, Jimin curled up against the youngest vampire’s other side, his gentle expirations warm on your face.

You shift beneath Taehyung’s weighty hold, your bare skin damp with sweat, sticking to the naked flesh of his chest wherever the two of you touch, and letting out a slight groan, you kick the boy softly in the shin, making him grumble something as he buries his nose deeper in your hair, and causing you to whine out, “Tae, it’s so hot. Get off.”

Jungkook stirs beneath you at the sound of your voice, his chest rising and falling in a deep sigh underneath your cheek, and Jimin’s eyes crack open at the movement of his younger brother, copper irises still clouded with sleep, as his gaze flickers across the bare chest of the youngest vampire to meet your own.

“You smell even better in the morning, sweet cheeks.” Taehyung, awake after all, mumbles into your hair, as he rubs his nose across the crown of your scalp, breathing in your scent.

“Yeah, probably because I’m bathed in a pool of my own sweat.” You reply dryly, pushing him away from you, as you struggle to untangle yourself from the nest of blankets and limbs.

You sit up, pushing sweaty hair back off your forehead, reveling in the cool breeze that washes over your skin from the cracked window, and realize, in the sudden quiet, that three pairs of amber orbs are staring at you unblinkingly.

“What?” You blush slightly under the three vampires’ gazes, self consciously reaching up as discreetly as possible to make sure that your bra straps are still in place and that you haven’t accidentally flashed them all, catching their attention so thoroughly.

“We’re just really excited to get you to ourselves for the whole day.” Jimin speaks, sitting up and stretching his arms over his head as he flashes you a wink and a soft smile, making your insides flutter inside your chest.

“Yeah.” Jungkook, now wide awake, yawns widely and runs a hand through his messy dark hair before cracking a grin in your direction. “Get ready, noona. Because it’s gonna be the best day ever.”

*****

The amusement park is crowded, and you stick closely to the boys as they pull you through the crowds, hands caught up within their own, fingers still slightly sticky from the cotton candy you had eaten earlier.

“Jungkookie and I want to ride The Monster.” Taehyung pulls the three of you into a somewhat calmer area behind one of the booths that line the main street of the park, pointing in the direction of one of the tallest roller coasters, blue tracks jutting upward and out of sight into the sky.

“Yeah, Imma have to pass on that one.” You say, much to the two younger boys’ disappointment as they groan at your lack of enthusiasm, making you laugh.

“Me too.” Jimin waves his hand in agreement, squinting upward at the ride his younger brothers are so excitedly referring to. “(Y/N) and I will find something a little tamer to ride while you two daredevils take on that beast.”

“Suit yourselves.” Jungkook shrugs one shoulder, as Taehyung leans over to swipe a kiss across your cheek before they disappear from sight.

“Come on.” JImin takes your hand in his once more, grinning at you over his shoulder, as he once again pulls you back into the bustling mainstream of the park.

You both decide on a water ride-a river rafting sort of adventure-although you’re starting to regret agreeing to go, as your raft once again rounds a corner of the river a little too fast, and the cold water splashes up over the side and down your back, making you yelp.

“Damn it!” You swear, teeth chattering slightly as you lean away from the side of the boat, trying to keep out of the way of the splashing water. “Why did I agree to this?”

“Ah, come on, baby girl.” Jimin looks over at you, his rings glinting in the sunlight as his hands clench around the center support bar of the ride, his hair wet and stringy against his forehead, his full lips pulled up into a smile of amusement as he watches your obvious disgruntlement. “It’s not that bad.”

“Easy for you to say.” You retort back, as another splash of water hits your back, splashing up over your shoulders and down the front of your shirt, the now soaked material sticking to your skin, sneakers full of icy puddles. “You always look hot, even when you’re wet. Look.” You point an accusing finger in his direction, where his damp hair has been pushed back from his forehead perfectly, giving him the appearance of a young god of the Sea that has just emerged from the waves. “See? Perfect still.” You scowl at him as the ride veers around another corner and you shuffle in your seat to keep your balance. “Meanwhile, I look like a drowned cat.”

Jimin laughs, and before you can stop him, he is unbuckling his safety harness and crossing the rocking raft to your side, sliding into the seat next to you, as you protest his lack of concern for his well being. Ignoring your complaints, he slips his fingers into your hair, pushing the wet strands behind your ear, his pupils dilating slightly as he leans closer to you, catching you off guard, once more, as his hands slide down the slick, wet material of your t-shirt, his fingers warm as they slip beneath the hem and touch your water chilled skin.

“To be fair,” He says in a low voice, barely heard above the splashing of the water slapping the sides of the rubber boat, his eyes flicking down your frame, pausing, only briefly, on the way the wet shirt clings to your figure, before they are darting back up again to your own, “Wet is my favorite look on you, baby girl.”

You swallow hard, you cannot tell if he is trying to be suggestive with his comment or not, but the sheer closeness of him, the way his hair is falling over his forehead, the way his skin is shimmering with droplets of water, the way you can still smell his distinct cologne, even through the damp, is all too distracting, and before you can think too hard about what he is saying, the ride is ending, and Jimin is kissing you, only momentarily, his lips soft against your own, and then he’s smiling down at you and offering you his hand to pull you from the ride.

“Come on. Let’s go find the others.”

********

Taehyung steals you away next.

Standing in the line for one of the horror rides, you nervously dance back and forth on your feet, prompting a deep chuckle from Taehyung, as he steps up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, pressing a kiss into the crook of your neck, your skin still slightly cool from the damp material of your t-shirt in comparison to the warmth of his lips.

“Nervous?” He asks with amusement under his breath, and you reach back to punch him for joking, although he easily dodges your weak, uncoordinated blow.

“You know I hate these kinds of rides, Tae.” You whine, as the line moves forward another few feet, and you shrink back against the vampire as one of the animatronic skeletons lunges toward the group of eager and laughing teenagers in front of you.

“I know, sweet cheeks, and I’ve never quite understood why.” Taehyung says in your ear, holding you tighter as you jump again at the banging of a door echoing from inside the scarehouse.

“What do you mean why?” You say in a shrill voice, as Taehyung pushes you forward another few feet with the moving of the line. You breathe out, as you reach one of the alcoves in the facade of the haunted castle, the dark, hidden dip in the stonework blocking your view, if only for a moment, of the scary attraction that lays ahead. “I hate being scared. You know this.”

“I know, I know.” Taehyung holds up his hands at your glare, a slight smile of amusement crossing his lips, though he tries to hide it for your sake, because he can probably feel the trembling of your fingers within his own as he intertwined his hand once more with yours. Leaning toward you, pressing you back against the fake chiseled brick of the alcove, he puts his lips to your ear and breathes against your skin, “However, you live with seven real life vampires, and I’m pretty sure we’re meant to be the scariest thing on this ride. So why are you afraid?”

You turn your head, just barely, to meet his gaze, his pupils dark in the dim lighting of the horror ride, and when you speak, your lips graze his jaw with the movement of your words. “That’s not the same and you know it.”

“Oh?” A mischievous look crosses his face at your words, and his brow cocks, as if issuing a challenge. “Want me to be scarier for you, sweet cheeks?”

Your heart jumps in your chest at his words, at the way he’s looking at you, the way his eyes rove over you, as if he’s holding himself back, and suddenly, a part of you really wants to know what he’s holding back from.

Swallowing, your tongue darting out to wet your lips, Taehyung’s eyes following the subtle movement, you manage to say almost normally, “Why do you like these rides anyway?”

“Oh, that’s easy.” Taehyung pulls back from you slightly, pulling you along with him, some of the intensity in his gaze now broken as he tugs you toward the front of the moving line, glancing at you over his shoulder, eyes alight with mischief as he grins back at you, “Haunted houses are dark. And dark rides allow for all kinds of fun things.”

******

It’s nearing the end of your day at the amusement park, and you stand in line with Jungkook as the sun starts to dip below the horizon, waiting your turn for a ride on one of the last attractions of the day.

Staring upward at the tall towers that disappear into the darkening sky, you watch, entranced, mouth slightly open, as the couple a few people ahead of you free falls from the top of the ride, their screams barely heard over the height and wind as they plummet, before being caught on the end of the bungies that are attached to their harnesses and swinging outward in a wide arc over the park.

Feeling Jungkook’s eyes on you, you pull yourself from the scene before you, and glancing over to meet his gaze, you raise a brow, before asking with amusement, “What?”

He flushes slightly, caught in the act, and drops his eyes from yours, hands going into his pockets as he shrugs his shoulders in embarrassment. “Nothing. You’re just….” He bites his lip, the tip of his fangs peeking over the pink, plush skin, and then raises his eyes to yours once more, pupils large and dark against the warm caramel of his irises. “Really pretty is all.” Caught off guard by his bold compliment, you watch the youngest vampire for a moment in silence, as he looks down to his sneakers, scuffing at the dirt with his toe, his blush deepening against the tan skin of his cheeks. Finally, you say softly, stepping toward him, “Jungkook.”

“Hmm?” He flicks his eyes up to yours once more, fiddling with the edge of his oversized t-shirt when he sees how close you suddenly are to him.

Closing the small gap of space between you, without another word, your lips fit to his, and his eyes widen slightly, body stiffening as you initiate the kiss, though as your arms find their way around his neck, fingers burying into the thick locks of hair at his nape, he relaxes into you, hands trailing up your back, warm through the thin material of your t-shirt as they trace your spine.

You let him come to you and control the kiss, because Jungkook is still new to being a vampire, and if you come on too strong, he’s easily overwhelmed, but shit, if he isn’t good at kissing once you get him to finally open up.

His tongue slips between his lips to find your own, his fingers digging into your hip bones, and he tastes like a reminder of the day-sweetness lingering from cotton candy and warmth of sunshine-and when you pull back to draw in air, he is looking at you in a way that makes your insides tingle with warmth.

“Okay. Well.” You say, slightly breathless, as you push loose strands of hair back from your suddenly flushed skin. “I think it’s our turn.”

Jungkook flashes you a grin, suddenly confident, as he takes your hand in his and guides you toward the waiting park employee, saying lightly over his shoulder as you enter the ride, “Trust me, Noona. This is gonna be a once in a lifetime experience.”

*******

The car ride back to the apartment is quiet, all of you thoroughly and happily exhausted from the day.

You ride in the backseat of the car, your head on Jungkook’s shoulder, listening sleepily to Taehyung and Jimin discuss something from the front seats, although their words make less and less sense the more tired you get, the haze over your brain growing thicker by the second.

You blink slowly, trying to keep your eyes open, and then Jungkook’s large palm covers your own, and he whispers quietly to you through the darkness of the backseat, “Close your eyes, noona. You can sleep.”

You shake your head and when you speak, your words are slightly slurred. “Wait, no. I have to tell you guys something.”

“What is it, sweet cheeks?” You hear Taehyung ask from the passenger seat, and you are vaguely aware of him turning to glance into the backseat at your words, the lights of the dashboard making a halo behind his head of dark curls.

“I….” You blink hard, the tiredness threatening to drag you under, but you fight back, needing them to hear you before you give into the exhaustion. “I love you.” You shake your head to clear your thoughts.. “All of you.” You motion with a wave of your hand in the direction of the front seat. “I love you, Jiminie. And I love you, Tae.” You snuggle back into the comfort of Jungkook’s shoulder, finally allowing your eyes to fall shut. “And I love you, Kookie.”

And though you’re already half asleep, you hear the words that are uttered in return, clear as day.

“We love you too.”

*****

Sunday morning starts with the sun pouring in through the window, and when you lazily blink open your eyes and stretch contentedly, relishing in the warmth of the early morning rays, Yoongi growls in annoyance, burying his face into the bare skin of your back as he grumbles out, “Who the hell forgot to shut the blinds last night?”

“I did.” Jin replies, voice still slightly husky with sleep, as he rolls over to face the two of you, Yoongi’s face still hidden against your skin. “And I didn’t forget. It was a strategic move to get you up before noon.”

Yoongi mutters something under his breath that sounds dangerously close to a curse, and you giggle, as Namjoon pops up from behind Jin’s shoulder, hair mussed untidily from sleep, eyes blinking owlishly as he yawns widely, revealing sharp fangs, as he asks thickly, “Is Hobi awake?”

“Present.” Hobi sits up with far too much energy for so early in the morning, and promptly leans over Yoongi’s still prone form to smack a loud kiss onto your cheek with a bright grin. “Morning, sparrow.”

“Good.” Jin shoves at Namjoon, pushing him out of the bed as the leader stumbles to find his feet, before turning back to Yoongi, and reaching over your body with a long arm, the eldest vampire smacks the younger brother upside the head, earning him another long string of mumbled curses. “Now get up. We’ve got things to do.”

******

Several hours later, and you’re lying on the beach at the nearby national park, the waves of the ocean lapping languidly at the sand as you relax in the warm rays of the sun, eyes closed and perfectly happy.

After another moment of silence, you prop yourself up on your elbows, and pushing your sunglasses back onto your head, you glance over to where Namjoon is sitting underneath the beach umbrella, nose buried in a book, long fingers eagerly tracing his spot on the page as he reads.

“Joon.” You call out quietly, sitting up and scooting over to be beneath the shade beside him.

“Hmm?” He hums back in response, before marking his page with his finger and shutting the book, glancing up at you as he does so, eyes hidden behind his dark sunglasses. “What’s up, gorgeous? Need something?”

You shake your head, and propping your chin on his shoulder, you tilt the cover of the book down so you can read the title out loud. “‘War and Peace’ huh? I didn’t know vampires were fans of Tolstoy.”

“Jin will tell you they’re not.” Namjoon chuckles, sliding his glasses down his nose a bit to give you a wink. “However, I find Tolstoy’s view on the world refreshing.”

“Of course you do.” You grin back at him in return, before pressing a kiss into the sun warmed flesh of his cheek, your lips sinking into the divet of his dimple at the corner of his lips. “Do you ever stop thinking, Joonie?”

“Not often.” He admits, setting his book aside so that he can remove his glasses and meet your gaze, copper irises warm and deep in the afternoon sun. “It’s a blessing and a curse.”

“Hmmm.” You hum in agreement, studying the way the shifting shadows from the umbrella dance across his bronze skin and high cheekbones.

You stare at him for longer than you had intended, just simply admiring his otherworldly beauty, and when his fingers brush across your jawline, making you jump and pulling you from your trance, you blush slightly.

“However.” Namjoon leans toward you, gaze meeting your own, lips parted slightly, his breath balmy as it washes across your face. “When you’re this close, I find myself unable to think of a single thing.”

“Is that a good thing?” You breathe out in response, gaze flickering down to his lips once more, as he continues to close the space between you.

“Incredibly good.” He intones quietly, before he fits his mouth to yours.

*******

“Hobi!” You shriek out, as the vampire splashes water in your direction, the droplets of salt bathing you in a curtain that clings to your skin and hair in the damp air.

“Sorry, sparrow. But it’s not a water fight without water.” Hobi shrugs from several feet away, a devilish grin flashing across his lips.

You lunge toward him, plunging your hand into the knee deep waves as you fling a handful of water in his direction, hoping to catch him off guard with your sudden movement, but he merely laughs gleefully and dodges the spray of sea water as easily as if you had moved in slow motion.

“Damn it!” You yell, propelling yourself toward him once again, catching him off guard this time, as you crash into him before he can get out of your way.

You tumble down into the surf in a tangle of flailing limbs and a giant splash, a mess of two bodies in the shallow water, as you fight for a moment to come out on top, and with a triumphant shout, you manage to get to your hands and knees above him, pinning his wrists down into the wet sand, sitting on the planes of his firm chest to keep him down as you wildly whip wet hair from your vision and grin down at him like a wild woman.

“Suck it, Jung. I win.” You crow, knowing that he could break your hold on him easily if he truly wanted to, but also knowing that Hobi had never not let you win in his entire life. He was too pure to beat you fairly at a game.

“You win, sparrow.” He says, a little breathless from your fall still, his chest heaving in and out beneath your weight as the waves wash in and out beneath his prone form, wet shirt sticking heavily to his skin. “What’s your prize?”

“Hmmm.” You say, pretending for a moment to think dramatically. “How about….” You grin down at him once more, releasing your hold on his wrists as you sit up. “You promise to give me a good fight next time?”

“Done.” He laughs, reaching up to tickle your sides, as you fall from on top of him to the wet sand, shrieking and struggling to avoid his long fingers, as he pins you down in a similar form to the way you had him just moments before. “Now. About my prize.”

“You didn’t win!” You protest, hands pinned above your head, looking up at him with wildly pounding heart. “You don’t get a prize!”

“I see your point.” Hobi says, nodding, his wet hair dark as it falls across his forehead. “However, I think you’ll like this prize.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you teasingly, before silencing your peal of laughter by covering your lips with his own.

********

“Okay, now slowly start to reel it in.” Yoongi’s arms go around your waist to adjust your grip on the fishing pole, his voice low and quiet in your ear in the silence that surrounds the two of you.

You feel a nibble on the end of the pole, and your muscles automatically tighten, ready to pull in the line, but Yoongi’s hands on your own stop you, and you relax, waiting as the bobber tugs under the water a few times with the fish’s increasing interest.

“Wait….wait….” Yoongi breathes against your cheek, his fingers steady against your own, keeping the pole still as the line starts to quiver with tension. Suddenly, without warning, his fingers dig into your own, and his voice raises, loud in your ear, as he exclaims, “Okay now!”

Yanking on the line, you begin to madly reel in the tight line of fishing string, the fish on the end putting up an obvious struggle, splashing and jumping and skipping over the water as you continue to haul it toward the shore. Before you know it, Yoongi is leaping forward and tugging up the end of the line, grinning at you as he holds aloft the fish, a large sea bass, wriggling wildly on the end of the pole.

“I did it!” You drop the pole in your excitement, and Yoongi struggles to hold onto the fish with the sudden lack of tension, as you bound toward him and throw your arms around his waist. “I did it, Yoongs!”

“Yeah, you did.” Yoongi agrees in amusement, chuckling as he places a kiss on the crown of your head, before he places the large, slippery fish carefully into your palms, watching with bright eyes as you admire the catch with a look of wonder. “Good job, baby.”

“Holy shit. I’ve never caught a fish before.” You breathe out, holding up the fish and admiring the way its scales gleam in the afternoon sun, its gills breathing hard, in and out, in the air. “What do we do now?”

“Now,” Yoongi leans forward, taking the fish once again from your grip and flashing you another soft gummy smile as he heads toward the bucket that is set up on the beach beside his camping chair. “We take this guy home and have a fish fry.”

You follow him, watching as he plops the fish into the bucket of water with the other catches of the day, before he offers you a rag to wipe the fish slime from your hands. “That was amazing.” You say, still in awe that you caught the fish all on your own.

“I think you’re amazing.” Yoongi remarks in return, leaning over to brush a gentle kiss across your cheekbone as he smiles at you once more.

*****

You sneak up behind the still form of Jin and wrap your arms around his waist, burying your face in his back and inhaling his cologne, as he chuckles, the sound a rumble in his chest, before he says, “Hey there, princess.”

Leaning up on tiptoes to rest your chin on his shoulder, you watch for a moment in silence as he carefully and gently reels the fishing line in a few feet, before letting the bobber loose once more to crest up and over the waves again.

“Catch anything over here, master fisherman?” You ask teasingly, nuzzling your nose into the crook of his neck before planting a kiss there.

“Not as much as you and Yoongi apparently.” Jin laughs again, turning his head to glance at you as he grins. “I heard you caught the biggest fish of the day.”

You nod. “Just call me Bear Grylls.”

Jin winks at you and turns back to watching his line bob gently in the water. “That’s my girl.”

You stand there in silence for several moments, chin resting on his shoulder, arms encircling his slender waist, enjoying the last hour or so of sunshine on the beach, and then you turn your head once more and brush your lips across his jaw, as you murmur, “Hey Jin?”

“Yeah princess.” He hums under his breath, eyes squinting beneath the brim of his hat as he gauges whether he felt a nibble or not.

“Thank you for picking me.”

He glances over at you, his movement jerky and quick in surprise, but he relaxes again slightly as he sees the soft smile that flashes across your lips, and dropping one of his hands down from the fishing pole to cover your own, he says softly, “Always, princess. Always.”

******

You sit in the back of the car, nestled between Namjoon and Hobi on the ride home, Jin driving and Yoongi sitting in the passenger seat behind him, the only sound the sloshing of the fish bucket in the trunk and the quiet hum of the air conditioner.

Leaning your head onto Hobi’s shoulder, you shut your eyes briefly, one of your hands resting in Namjoon’s lap, fingers linked with his own, the other palm to palm with Hobi’s, basking, for just a moment, in the feel of a slight sunburn on your skin, and the tiredness that overcomes your body from a day spent perfectly.

Opening your eyes as the car rattles over a bump in the road, you yawn, before snuggling closer to the warmth of Hobi’s body, and when you speak to the car as a whole, your voice is subdued and slightly rough from exhaustion, “I want you all to know, I really love you.”

“We do know, princess.” Jin speaks up, his hands still gripping the steering wheel, as he glances back at you in the rearview mirror.

“I know, but,” You sigh, squeezing Hobi and Namjoon’s hands in turn. “I love you. I love you, Kim Seokjin. And I love you, Min Yoongi.” The two older boys meet your gaze in the mirror, and though you can’t see their faces in the dark you know they’re smiling by the sudden crinkling of their eyes. “And I love you too, Jung Hoseok. And I love you, Kim Namjoon.” The younger boys squeeze your hands respectively, making you smile this time.

“Hey, sparrow.” Hobi speaks up, his voice low, as he rubs his nose into your hair, tickling your head with his warm breath. “We all really love you too.”

105 notes · View notes

chickensarentcheap · 4 years ago

Text

Best Part of Me -Chapter 87

Warnings: none

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @tragiclyhip, @alievans007

She dreams of the first Christmas in Telluride. That old farmhouse long before the extensive renovations that had transformed it from drafty and ill kept to a beautiful, warm place perfect for a growing family. It had had promise. High ceilings and original hardwood floors that could be refurbished. Thirty acres of property that backed onto a creek and woodlands and came with an incredible view of the snow capped mountains. After months of living with her mother and step father while getting their underneath them, the home represented the official start of their new lives in the States. Set a thousand feet from the main road and surrounded by towering trees, it had provided peace and quiet and a sense of safety and security; two things they both craved and believed would be the perfect setting for raising children in. At the time they’d had no plans of ever returning to Australia, and while Tyler had initially struggled with the culture shock and the enormous change he’d made in his life, he’d actually adjusted quite well to the change of scenery and the colder climate. There hadn’t really been anything for him back home; aside from a couple of old friends. His relationship with his father had always been toxic, and only became more so with each passing year. A change will be good, he had said. And his words had quickly been proven right.

There were no memories haunting him in Colorado, and a drastic change came with the trading in of the beach and sweltering heat for the mountains and the forests and the cooler air. He was noticeably happier; smiling and laughing more and possessing a much more positive outlook on their lives and their future. The ghosts of his pasts didn’t follow him there, and he started sleeping better and rekindled the passion for working out religiously; putting on the weight and the muscle -and the some- that he’d lost during that long and often agonizing recovery after Dhaka. They’d just had Millie then. Ten months old and chubby cheeked; thick and wavy sandy blond hair and enormous blue eyes framed by impossibly long, dark lashes. An extremely happy and healthy baby. Full of curiosity and wonder and in love with the world; always giggling and smiling and in turn making their lives even brighter. The twins hadn’t even arrived yet; a month before they'd make their rather dramatic entrance into the world.

He’d gotten up in the middle of the night with an uncharacteristically unsettled and grumpy Millie; a mixture of teething and a stubborn cold that was making it hard for her to sleep. And when an hour passed and he still hadn’t returned to the warm confines of their bed -either alone or with the baby- yet all was silent in the house, she’d gone looking for them. She’d expected to find him passed out on the couch with Millie on his chest, but instead discovered him standing in front of the Christmas tree. The lights on and their daughter in those strong, protective arms; voice soft and quiet as he talked to Millie about her very first Christmas that was quickly approaching. About how spoiled she’d be and how he was happy that she got to experience the extra bonus of having snow; how he’d always dreamed of experiencing a white Christmas when he was a kid.

And he’d told her about what the holidays were like when he was growing up. How his mum put so much time and effort into making it amazing for him; sharing the traditions she’d grown up with and creating her own that he’d hopefully one day continue with his family. It was the one time of the year his father wasn’t drunk. When he stuck to only one glass of wine at dinner and never raised his voice or his hand to either of them. For twenty fours hours, they were a normal family, and that night he’d go to bed and pray for one last Christmas gift: that he’d wake up and his father wouldn’t go back to his ‘old self’. That wish never came true, and once his mother died, Christmas lost any and all meaning or importance for him. Relegated to just ‘another day’ in his life; another chance for the old man to beat the shit out of him and degrade him and try to break his spirit.

He’d tried with his first marriage and child. Attempted to get into the Christmas spirit and bring back some of his mother’s traditions; wanting to make the time magical and beautiful for his son. But he could never seem to totally commit to it; too many bad memories holding him back. The pain of his mother’s passing and his father’s treatment of him still too raw, even though it had been more than fifteen years prior. But he was determined this time, he’d told Millie, as he stood there with her in his arms. Things would be different. HE’D be different. Because she and her momma and her soon to be born brothers deserved that; a husband and a father who was ‘all in’. Someone totally committed to making every second of every day matter. He wanted to be a better person this time around. A better man.

It had been a beautiful thing to hear. And see. This big, strong man covered in scars and tattoos, looking at his little girl with so much love and awe in his eyes. And Millie caught up in looking at him with pure adoration AND at the tree; amazed by the multicoloured lights and her little hands exploring the branches and the decorations. Esme hadn’t had the heart to disturb them, and she’d never told him about what she’d witnessed. That moment had been reserved for father and daughter. Instead she’d just gone back upstairs and returned to bed; pretending to wake up when he finally climbed back in beside her a half an hour later.

She stirs to the ring of her cell phone; muffled by its resting place under the pillow next to her. She had somehow managed to drift off, her body and mind finally giving in to exhaustion; lulled into a restless sleep by the continuous beeping of the EKG machine and her husband’s soft, slow breathing. The room is dark; illuminated only by the moonlight streaming through the window above her head and the glow of the bedside monitor. At first she’s disoriented. Blindly reaching for that solid, warm body that is usually beside her, but finding nothing but cool, crisp hospital issued sheets. It effectively snaps her fully awake and plunges her back into reality. The dream had been so vivid; as if she was experiencing that tender, beautiful moment for the very first time.

It’s heartbreaking to wake up to. Her children thousands of miles away, her husband’s life still teetering on a very narrow and dangerous ledge, the sounds of hospital life just beyond the closed door; bells routinely going off signally patients -or their families- need help, the quiet chatter of the nurses at the central workstation. And for a moment she doesn’t move; lying on her back in the middle of that little pull out couch, tears filling her eyes and a tremendous ache inhabiting her chest. She feels empty. Lonely. All of the fear and the worry and the anger sitting so heavily on her heart. And when her phone stops ringing and then immediately starts up again, she gives herself a pep talk: “You can do this. You HAVE to do this. He needs you to do this. He needs YOU.”

She reaches under the pillow and snags her cell, frowning at the word HOME emblazoned across the screen. She glances at the illuminated wall clock across the room; it would be just shy of five am in Cooktown. She can’t help but think the worst; that the situation isn’t over after all and troubled has followed them home. And she tries to keep the panic out of her voice when she answers.

“Hello?”

“Mommy?” That little voice greets. A harsh whisper; neither tearful nor scared.

“Amelia.” She hasn’t used that name in years. Adopting the moniker Millie when the then three year old decided that was what she preferred to be called. And she quickly sits up and swings her legs over the side of the bed; shoving her feet in the pair of flip flops that sit on the floor next to her. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Well...yeah...there IS something wrong.”

“What’s going on?” She rakes a hand through her hair as she stands, then grabs the hoodie off the chair beside Tyler’s bed and shrugs into it. “Are you okay?”

“I guess.”

“It’s five in the morning, doodle. What are you doing up? You should be asleep.”

“Is daddy there?”

“No,” Esme lies, then steps out into the hall. Giving a small smile and a nod in greeting to the armed guard -one of Anil’s people- that sits next to the door. A precaution; in case some loyal and overzealous fan of Asif’s or Mahajan’s attempts to cause trouble. “He’s not.”

“Where is he?”

“He had to go and do some things.”

“Work things?”

“Yeah. Last minute stuff. Things that couldn’t wait and he had to get done.”

“Do you know when he’s going to be back? I tried calling his cell but it just went to voicemail. I want to talk to him. I want to talk to daddy.”

“He probably has his phone turned off. It’s important work stuff.”

“I’m important,” Millie reminds her. “And daddy always says that us kids are more important than anything else.”

“Well you guys are. You ARE the important thing to him. But I don’t think he was expecting you to call at this time of night. Not when you’re supposed to be in bed. Sleeping. And why aren’t you? Sleeping?”

“I had a bad dream. So I went into your room to get daddy. I forgot you guys weren’t home yet. Daddy always helps me after a bad dream. Always. He makes me warm milk and oatmeal and then he lies on the couch with me and rubs my tummy until I fall asleep.”

“Maybe you can ask Ovi or Uncle Kyle to do that,” Esme suggests.

“I don’t want Ovi or Uncle Kyle. I want daddy. That’s what daddy does for me. Not anyone else. I don’t want anyone else doing it. Just daddy.”

“Millie, we are thousands of miles away. Even if he was here, he wouldn’t be able to do anything for you.”

“But I could hear his voice and it would make me feel better. Remember how sometimes when he’s away for his job, I’ll call him and he’ll talk to me until I fall asleep again?”

“But he can’t do that, sweetie. Because he’s not here.”

“But if he’d turn his cell back on, he could do it. Can you call him on his other phone? His work one? And tell him I need to talk to him? If you tell him I had a bad dream, he’ll turn his other phone back on and call me. I know he will.”

“Millie, I can’t call him. He’s busy. And not even I can talk to him right now. I’m sorry. I wish daddy COULD talk to you. But he can’t.”

“Is he okay?”

Esme blinks. “Why wouldn’t he be okay?”

“You sound sad. Why are you sad? Is daddy okay? Did something happen to him? Is that why you’re sad?”

“Nothing happened, doodle. And I’m not sad. I’m just tired. It’s only one in the morning here.”

“I’m sorry, mommy. I didn’t mean to wake you up. I miss you.”

“I miss you, too. I miss you so much.”

“Will you and daddy be home soon?”

“I hope so.”

“I hope so too. Will you tell him I called? I left him two messages. On his cell. Will you tell him to listen to them?”

“I’ll tell him. I promise.”

“Ask him to call me later. I want to talk to him, okay?”

Esme nods, then swallows around the lump of emotion sitting in her throat. “Okay.”

“I love you, mommy. Tell daddy I love him. That I miss him. Today is Saturday. The sun will be up soon. We always watch the sunrise together on Saturdays and then we have breakfast and go surfing.”

“I know you do,” she brushes away the tears that finally manage to escape. “I know you guys do that together. And you’ll get to it again when we’re home, okay?”

“Are you sure you’re not sad? You sound sad, mommy.”

“I’m okay. Just tired. And homesick. I miss you. I miss all of you. So much.”

“I miss you too, mommy. I’m sorry I woke you up. You can go back to sleep now. I’m going to take Saju out to pee; he can watch the sun come up with me.”

“That’s a good idea. I’m sure he’ll like that. I love you.”

“I love you, mommy. Tell daddy I love him. And give him a hug and kiss from me.”

“I will,” Esme promises, and then disconnects the call.

Her hands violently tremble, making it nearly impossible to tend to the simple task of slipping her phone into her pocket. The ache in her chest worsens and her legs feel numb; threatening to give out from under her And she slumps back against the wall as the first sob escapes a pitiful, choked sound accompanied by another she attempts to to stifle with her hand. All she can hear is her daughter’s voice; tiny and beautiful and so innocent. Millie’s words replaying over and over again in her mind. About wanting to talk to her daddy...NEEDING to talk to him...because he’s the only one that can make things better. The one she relies on to chase away the monsters and make her feel safe and secure again. Six years old and her father is her entire world. That precious little girl who’d inherited his eyes and his smile.

The tears finally come.

****

When the return to sleep fails her, she heads to the family kitchen. It’s spacious and modern and stocked with free ‘goodies’ donated by the hospital; various flavours of teas and coffee, pastries and other desserts, and a selection of non perishables. Each family is given a small pantry and bar fridge marked with their last name; safe places to keep things purchased with their own money. It’s the small comforts that make a difference; those tiny details and touches that somehow manage to lift some of the stress, fear, and worry that have become your driving forces.

She boils water; thumbing through the wide selection of flavoured teas that sit in an ornate basket on the counter. And she freezes when she hears it; blood running cold and the hair on the back of her neck standing on end. The distinct sounds of wailing and sobbing coming from somewhere on the ward. At first it makes her heart skip a beat, then causes it to pound furiously in her chest. It’s gut wrenching; the harsh reality of someone else’s grief. Someone else’s loss. It makes you sympathetic towards them but also fearful that you just may encounter the same situation. You can prepare yourself for it; the chance that the person you love may not make it out of a place like this. That they may never improve and will only experience setback after setback and never find themselves well enough for the ‘step down’ unit. It would be foolish NOT to consider that.

But you’re never fully prepared for when it actually does happen. The loss enormous. Sorrow profound. Seven years ago, the loss would have been tremendous; robbed of what ‘could have been; and left to go through a pregnancy alone and then raise a child that belonged to a dead man. Now it would be catastrophic. Years of giving everything of yourself to someone; loving them with every bit of your body, heart, and soul and getting that same love in return. Having someone that looks at you as if you’re the most incredible and beautiful being on earth; their devotion and faithfulness unconditional and going hand in hand with their willingness to protect you at all costs. And having a family together has only elevated things ever further; creating life together and then getting to share in both the joys and the tribulations of raising them. It’s a partnership; working side by side and each bringing out the best in the other. And all of a sudden that is taken away…

She refuses to think about it. What life would be like without him. The enormous hole that would be left behind. Losing her father as a teenager had been bad enough; a loss that she still mourns even decades later. But to lose your entire world? The love of your life?

“Stop!” Esme orders aloud, and then inwardly scolds herself for letting her thoughts go to that dark, horrible place. It almost feels like a betrayal; counting him out at the very beginning of the fight. He’s never given up; no matter how dire a situation or how exhausting -whether physical or mental- the battle is. Always the one to keep her going when things seem hopeless. If the situation was reversed, he wouldn’t give up on her, and she feels ashamed for even considering doing it to him.

She turns away from the counter, mug of tea in hand then gives a small start and a ‘fuck!’ when she discovers she’s not alone. A man younger than herself; smooth, dark skin, a shock of black, curly hair, and kind, chocolate brown eyes.

“My apologies,” he gives a sheepish smile. “I did not mean to frighten you.”

“It’s okay. I didn’t even hear you come in. Lost in my own little world, I guess.”

“Sometimes it’s nice to have that little world. A place to escape to. To get away from this The smells, the sights, the sounds. That machine...the beep, beep, beep...drives me insane.”

“I hear you. I think the sound is permanently etched in my brain. It’ll be a long time before it disappears. And I just got here.”

“What are you in for?” he asks, as she moves towards the door. “Sorry. I try for humour; when things are difficult. It’s how I deal with the stress. How I cope.”

“I hear you on that, too. I’m the same way. I guess I try cracking jokes or making light of things because I’m hoping it will make ME feel better. It drives my husband crazy sometimes. Especially when a situation definitely does NOT call for it. Or I ramble. Kind of like what I’m doing right now. Only about ten times worse. He’s the strong, silent type. I’m the chatty one. Even during moments I shouldn’t. Like right now for instance. Sorry. I ramble. Like I said.”

“It’s alright. I don’t mind. We all have our ways of coping. Is that why you’re here? For your husband?”

Esme nods, then leans back against the doors, eyes riveted on her cup as she repeatedly dunks the tea bag into the boiling water. It’s nerves; the fear that those threatening tears will let loose. She’d thought there were no tears left after her emotional meltdown following her conversation with Millie. That she’d cried herself dry. At least for the time being. And the last thing she wants is to lose it in front of a complete stranger.

“He got hurt,” she says. “At work.”

“He works here? He’s from Bangladesh?”

“He’s Australian, actually.”

“You’re a long way from home.”

“We are. A very long way. Or least it seems like a very long way. I know; I don’t have an accent. Or if I do, it’s just starting and not very noticeable. I’m originally from Colorado.”

“And you married someone from Australia? How did that happen? You met on vacation?”

“Through work. We were assigned to the same project.”

“And he’s hurt? Bad?”

“Bad enough to be stuck here. It’s going to be a long road. Something tells me we’ll be here a while. He’s in pretty rough shape.”

“Must have been one heck of a workplace accident.”

“Someone tried to kill him,” she admits, and then quickly adds “He’s in private security. A job got out of hand. There was nothing he could have done about it. There was no way he could have expected things to turn out THIS bad.”

“I’m sorry. That he has to be here. That YOU have to be here.”

“So am I,” she gives a small, sad smile. “But thank you. Why are you here?”

“My wife. She’s been here for almost two weeks. She had a stroke. While giving birth. Our first child.”

Esme’s eyes widen, and one of her hands slides inside of the open hoodie and instinctively rests on her baby bump.

“The doctors say there is no brain activity, but I’m not giving up hope. Sometimes, miracles happen. I can’t just give up on her. She wouldn’t give up on me.”

“I am so sorry. I can’t even imagine what it’s been like for you. And the baby? Did the baby make it or…?”

“Baby is fine. Very healthy. Very beautiful.” He pulls his cell phone from his pocket, then turns on the screen and holds it out towards her, showing off the display. A beautiful infant with gorgeous dark eyes and little pink bows in her coal black hair.

“She’s beautiful. Congratulations. It must be so bittersweet; having a new baby while your wife…” her voice trails off, unsure of what to say next.

“You have children?”

“I do. I have five of them.”

“Five? Forgive me; you don’t look like a woman with five children.”

“Thank you, but believe me, I feel like a mother of fifty right about now. It’s hard; being so far away from them. They have no idea what’s happened. I feel terrible for lying to them, I do. But I really don’t know what to say. They’re so little; the oldest is only six. How do I NOT traumatize them? How do I tell them? I’m just so lost when it comes to this. To a lot of things, actually This is...hard Very hard. Having to trust complete strangers with the life of the person you love. To just put his life in these peoples’ hands. I’m not having a good time with it. At all. I’m sad. I’m angry. Mostly sad, though.”

“Angry?”

“At the person who did this to him. They’re dead, and believe me, there’s a special place in hell for them. But I’m still angry about it. And I’m angry at myself too. Because I made a mistake. And I guess in a way I feel guilty; that my mistake led to this.”

Her companion gives a sympathetic smile. “I don’t think he’d want you to blame yourself.”

“He definitely wouldn’t. Tyler would be pretty mad about it, actually. He already thinks I’m too hard on myself in a lot of ways. That’s his name, by the way. Tyler. My husband.”

“My wife is Priya. I’m Sanjib.”

“I’m Esme,” she shakes the hand offered. “I should get back. I know he’s not conscious and probably won’t be for a while, but I still don’t like leaving him alone. I like to think he knows I’m there. He has PTSD; hospitals trigger it. He will not be happy when he comes out of sedation, that’s for sure. This is the last place he’ll want to be. It was nice to talk to you, though Thanks for tolerating me.”

“We should meet. Every day. At a certain time. For tea. I would be nice to have someone to talk to. Other than doctors and nurses”

“It would be,” she agrees. “And someone other than my six year old who called me from Australia and should be sleeping. She had a bad dream and daddy always takes care of her after a bad dream. She’s missing him. A lot. But whenever you feel up to it, just come and find me. It’s hard to miss our room; it’s the only one with the armed guard sitting outside of it.”

Sanjib arches a quizzical brow.

“It’s a long story that needs a bit of time to tell. One that definitely calls for more than one tea. But it was nice talking to you. And I hope your wife heals. I hope a miracle DOES happen.”

“I hope for the same for your husband. That he’s awake sooner, rather than later.”

“Yeah,” she says, and opens the kitchen door. “So do I.”

****

When she returns to the room, Julie is stepping out; slipping the patient chart back into the holder on the door and then turning to greet her

“Is everything alright?” Esme asks, unable to stop herself from fearing the worst. Even the warm smile on the other woman’s face and the gentle hand that first touches her cheek and then lays on her shoulder. “Is he okay? Nothing’s happened, has it?”

“Everything is fine. I was just checking his vitals.”

“And they’re good? He doesn’t need to be intubated or…?”

“He’s doing all the breathing on his own. Doesn’t even need the nasal cannula anymore. And his oxygen level is still staying over ninety four.”

“And that’s good? That’s what we want it to be? Or better? It’s a good sign that he doesn’t need any help?”

“A very good sign. He’s a lot further along than anyone thought he would be, that’s for sure. Usually in cases like this, when someone has experienced that level of trauma AND so much of it, it takes weeks, sometimes even months, to see even a glimmer of progress. There are people who have been on this ward for a long time, with less done to them, that aren’t where he is. He’s got a strong will to live, that’s for sure.”

“He has five reasons to stay alive back home. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for them. No fight he wouldn't fight. If it was seven years ago, you wouldn’t be seeing what you’re seeing right now. Before the kids? He wasn’t the person he is now. Once our daughter came along, everything changed. HE changed.”

“I think you’re underestimating the role YOU played. That you DO play.”

“He is so strong. The strongest person I’ve ever known. And if anyone can defy the odds and prove people, it’s Tyler. So I hope you go and tell that one doctor...the neurologist...exactly what you’re telling me. Because he has been nothing but doom and gloom. He even told me not to expect much. Not even long term. I basically told him to go screw himself. No one is going to talk about my husband like that. No one is going to count him out. I don’t care how many degrees they have before or after their name. I know Tyler. And he doesn’t give up. He doesn’t know the meaning of it. And he is stubborn as hell! You’ll get to see that soon enough, I’m sure.”

“He’s already showing it. And so you know, he did wake. Very briefly, but…”

“Wait? What? What do you mean he woke up? How? Is that even possible? How can he? The surgeon said it would be a few days before they’d start bringing out of it. How…?”

“While it’s heavy sedation, it is still only sedation,” Julie explains. “It isn’t a medically induced coma. So brief periods of wakefulness and some level of lucidity are common. He likely won’t remember experiencing it, but it will happen.”

“And he was fully awake?”

“Fully awake in terms of all the drugs continuously being pumped into him. But he did open his eyes and ask ‘who the hell are you?’”

Esme gives a small laugh. “That sounds like Tyler. He hates hospitals. They trigger a lot of bad things. It’s good he’s doped up. If he knew where he was and he had the energy, he probably would have lost it. He has pulled out many an IV. He won’t think anything of pulling out a central line. Did he say anything? Did he ask about his kids or…?”

“He asked for you. Seemed worried. I told him you were fine. That you just stepped out for a minute. I asked him how he was feeling and he said sick. So I gave him an anti nausea med through the line. The pain medication he’s on is notorious for making people sick, And he asked for water. So if he does wake up and wants something to drink, that’s what he can have.”

“I can’t believe this even happened. Especially so soon. I didn’t think there was a chance of something like this. The way everyone was talking, it sounded like even after he was brought out of sedation, he might not come to right away. That it could take weeks, even.”

“Well between you and me, hun, doctors aren’t always right. I’ve seen a lot of patients they’ve been plenty wrong about. Now don’t get your hopes up; it might not happen again right away. That might have been all the energy he had to spare for a while.”

“But it’s a good sign, right? That he DID wake up? I don’t care how long it takes for him to be okay. Just as long as long as he is in the end. And this has to be a good sign.”

“It’s a sign that his brain is working the way it should. And I’m going to make sure I tell that neurologist, too. There is nothing wrong with that man’s brain; not when he can call his wife by name and answer me when I ask him how he’s doing. Everything’s going right for him, I promise you. And he’s in good hands. Very good hands. I’ll see that he gets everything he needs And that that mean old brain doctor gets put in his place.”

“You have no idea how much I needed this; to hear this. It’s just been a nightmare; I’m still trying to wrap my head around what went wrong. How could it go so bad, so fast? And then our daughter called and she’s six and her daddy is her entire world and they have this amazing bond. I mean, he has a bond with all of them, obviously. But it’s different with her; he calls her his miracle baby. He lost a son. From his first marriage. And he never thought he’d be a dad again. And then we met in a crazy way and we made her and he then he survived what he did and…” Esme takes a deep, shaky breath. “....it’s just different. What they have. She thinks the sun shines out of his ass and they’re so close and she misses him so much. I don’t know how to tell her. It’ll break her heart regardless. All she wants is to talk to him and I don’t know how to tell her she can’t. I don’t know what to say to any of them.”

“What do they think they can handle hearing?”

“I don’t know,” she admits. “Millie is so smart and so intuitive for her age. TJ is tough on the outside but a total softie on the inside; he has a huge heart and feels and loves so deeply. And Tanner is crazy intelligent and an old soul. But they’re still babies, practically. She’s six. They’re five. What do I tell them other than daddy got hurt and can’t come home for a while? I don’t want them knowing details. You’ve seen him. Would you want your children knowing how bad he looks?”

“No. I wouldn’t.”

“And the one person I have to talk me through things like this, I can’t turn to because he’s the one that’s hurt. He’s the rock, not me. He’s the one that talks ME down. I have no clue what I’m doing right now. Other than lying to my children.”

“Just tell them the parts of the truth you know they can handle,” Julie suggests. “They don’t need details Especially ugly ones. Tell them that daddy is hurt and unfortunately can’t come home for a while. But as soon as the doctors say it’s okay, he can be sent to a hospital there and then they can see him as much as they want. It’s what I’d tell my kids And my grand kids.”

“It’s just so hard; being away this far from them. Especially the baby. She’ll be four months old next week and I’m thousands of miles away from her and I‘m afraid she’s going to forget me. The farthest away I’ve been from her is a few hours. And that was only for two days! I could be here for a few WEEKS. I can’t go home; I can’t leave Tyler alone here. I just can’t.”

“Is there anyone that could bring her to you? A friend that wouldn’t mind doing that?”

“Our oldest would do it In a heartbeat. He’s technically not ours, ours We’re his guardians. We’ve had him since he was fifteen. He’s twenty one now. I trust him with my kids’ lives. He’d do it. No hesitation. But then that leaves my brother alone with four kids and I don’t think he can handle that. And I’m not asking him to do it. He and Tyler do not get along; my brother thinks my marriage is an epic disaster and the worst mistake I ever made.” Esme sighs and pushes a hand through her hair. “I can’t believe I’m rambling to you like this. I’m sorry; I’m sure you have a lot to do. I shouldn’t keep you like this.”

“Part of looking after patients is caring for their families too. And you’re a long way from home and you’re going through a hell of a horrible thing. You can lean on me. I’ve got broad shoulders. Why don’t you sleep on all of this? Or at least try and get some rest. This is only the end of day one; you don’t have to have everything figured out . Get some sleep and hopefully something will come to you in the morning.”

“I’ll try. It’s hard. Sleeping alone. You get used to someone being there. I tell you, I will NEVER complain about his cold feet and snoring every again. It’s so weird; the rest of him is a furnace, but those feet!”

“My husband is a snorer. You know how many times I’ve wanted to smother him with a pillow over the years?”

“Oh, I’ve had those moments, believe me. But apparently, I talk in my sleep. Tyler says he can carry on full conversations with me. Apparently my favourite thing to talk about is grocery lists. I always talk about peanut butter, ketchup, and kitty litter. And we don’t even have a cat.”

Julie laughs at that. “Try and get some rest, okay? You got a little one in there that’s depending on you. Come here…” she draws Esme into a tight embrace. “...you’re not alone. Remember that.”

“I’ll try,” she promises. And that pure, affectionate, and comforting moment once more brings tears to her eyes. And it’s sad. That harsh realization that this is the time in decades…maybe even ever…that she’s felt a hug like that Unconditional. Compassionate.

Motherly.

*****

“Your daughter called,” she says, as she parks the chair beside his bed. Gathering the hoodie around her as she sits, then putting down the safety railing

He’s succumbed to the mixture of sedation and the heavy duty anti nausea meds, and with his head turned towards the door, the facial injuries are hidden. No stitches -sixty altogether, thirty holding together the damaged muscle and tissue, the others closing the skin- or swelling, or bruising visible. A slight smile curves his lips; no furrows present across his brow, features bathed in the soft glow from the bedside monitor. It’s the first time in years she’s seen him this peaceful. Where he isn’t hampered by the demons and the mistakes of the past; his brain unburdened and at rest. His body pain free. Breaths slow and even. Relaxed. Right arm resting across his stomach, left lying flat on the mattress. And that’s the hand she takes; holding tightly as the fingers of her other hand repeatedly drift along his forearm.

“She wanted me to tell you that she loves you. And she misses you. She left you a couple voicemails; I’ll play them for you when your phone charges. I don’t know what to tell her. To tell any of them. I’ve never had to give this kind of news. You’re so much better at this than I am. This whole parenting thing. You always have been. You’re a ten; I’m hovering somewhere around...I don’t know...a six. Although you’d probably tell me I’m full of shit and that I’m being too hard on myself. I just wish I could talk to you about all of this. You’re way better at figuring this kind of stuff out than I am.”

She laces their fingers together, thumb brushing against the side of his. “And just so you know, I’m kind of pissed you had the nerve to wake up while I wasn’t here. I’ll try not to be offended that you woke up for another woman and not me. Unless you’re just pretending to sleep; hoping that I’ll just shut and you leave you alone. Sorry buddy, you’re stuck with me. For about another fifty years.”

She lightly scrapes her fingernails along his forearm, watching his face for any sign of impending consciousness. “And speaking of being stuck with me, I went through your things and your wedding ring has mysteriously disappeared. No one has seen it. Not in the ER, not in the OR. So it looks like you’re finally going to have to upgrade. You’ve only been talking about that for HOW long? I know you hate change; I know you’ve got a connection to the first one. But it looks like you’re going to have to suck it up and get a new one. Or, I could just go ahead and pick one out for you and surprise you with it. Our anniversary in three months, you never know. Looks like you’re not going to be getting your normal gift, sorry. You’ll have to settle for something else.”

She had been surprised at how much it had hurt; realizing that the ring was in fact gone. She had searched the bag of blood soaked clothes; rummaging through every pocket in hopes that he’d either taken it off before going into the storage facility of someone else -maybe Koen or Rata on the way to the hospital- had removed it and tucked it away. She couldn’t imagine hospital staff NOT giving it to her. But just when she thought her heart possibly couldn’t break even more, it had. And instead of tears, she’d felt anger. An all consuming rage towards Nathan. It was his fault, after all. He was the only one to blame for all of this; her husband’s battered and bloodied body, the weeks and months and maybe even years of recovery that lay ahead of him, the thousands of miles separating her and her children. Now the missing ring. There was only one person to blame for all of it. And while he was dead and that should be enough to give her a sense of comfort, satisfaction, and finality, it only made her even angrier.

She’d called home about it. Preferring to speak to Ovi or Nik or even Anil. Someone with at least an ounce of compassion in their bodies. Instead she’d been relegated to talking to Kyle. And while he’d listened to her long winded, rambling rage towards Nathan and the world in general, and her whining and complaining about the ring being lost, he hadn’t been the most sympathetic when it came to advice giving.

“It’s just a cheap piece of jewellery. Put on your big girl pants and get him a new one. No big deal. It’s your own fault you’re in this mess anyway. If you had just listened to all of us and left him a long time ago, you…”

She’d hung up. Not even giving him the chance to finish.

“I miss you,” she says, and issues a long, shaky sigh. “I know that sounds weird because you’re literally right here. But I do. I miss you. I miss you so much. I miss how we sneak the good snacks after the kids go to bed; sit on the couch eating ice cream right out of the carton. I miss how you tease me about being so short but never complain when I ask you to reach something at the bottom of the washing machine or on the top shelves in the kitchen. And I miss those talks. You know the ones. In the middle of the night AFTER we’ve done other things. We’ve always had those talks; right from day one. I can’t remember who started it, but do remember you complaining about how cuddly I was. It was a half assed complaint, mind you. I saw the smile on your face; you didn't mind it one bit. And you were a pretty good cuddler for someone who said they hated it so much. Maybe you secretly liked it and you just had never found someone you WANTED to cuddle. I know, it’s not very bad ass mercenary; being a cuddler. I’ve always loved that about you. That you’re such a study in contradiction. Everyone else only gets the one side of you; the mercenary side. But you’ve always let me see all of you. Even seven years ago. After that first time, you never hid it from me. Who you really are. For some reason you never felt a reason to hide it from me. And I think that’s one of the things that made me fall in love with you as fast as I did. That you were so honest and real and you didn’t pretend to be someone you weren’t. You didn’t hide the fact that you were a mess. And you didn’t care that I was either.”

Esme reaches out to move his hair off his forehead, then uses a fingertip to trace the scar that curves over the bridge of his nose. “I really do miss you, Tyler. And I know it probably sounds stupid to you because you ARE alive and you ARE going to be fine, but I can’t help it. I’ve spent seven years with you. Being able to hear your voice and your laugh whenever I want and seeing you smile and that cute little frown and pout you get when you’re really focused on something. Or when you’re trying so hard not to laugh when one of the kids drops the F bomb in the correct context. Remember that time in Telluride when we were in town and someone was texting and driving and turned into the crosswalk while you were walking with the twins? And TJ flipped him the bird and called him a stupid fucker? I wonder where he learned THAT from? You didn’t know whether to give him shit or be proud of him. I know you don’t think being adorable can go hand in hand with being a bad ass, but you manage somehow.”

She runs her knuckles along his jaw, then lowers her head to press a kiss to his forearm. “I just need you to be okay,” she says, and struggles to hold back the tears. “And I don’t want to hear any of your shit about how strong I am and I’m more than capable of doing this by myself; raising five kids. And maybe I am. Maybe I could handle it. Maybe I could handle them and another one. But I don’t want to do this by myself. That isn’t what I signed up for six and a half years ago. We’re supposed to do it together. And I’m not letting you back out on me. Ever. So I really need you to be okay. Because I need you. More than you realize. And probably more than I’ve ever let on. Why do it alone when you have someone so amazing to do it with? So you have to get better, okay? I need you to get better. Besides, you still owe me a trip. You have this really uncanny ability of getting out of taking me on trips, you know that?”

She releases her hold on his hand, then wraps both arms around his and lays her forehead in the crook of his elbow. Staying there for several minutes; eyes closed as she desperately holds back the flood of tears. And she almost doesn’t feel it; that light brush of fingers against one of her arms. Wondering if she actually just imagined it. Or perhaps his body had given an involuntary shiver or jerk; a known side effect from the meds.

“Don’t cry, baby.” His voice is barely above a whisper. Quiet and weak. But very much him.

She raises her head to look at him. And the tears that threaten now are ones of relief. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“So you WERE pretending to be asleep.”

“I was listening.”

“Always the strong, silent type.”

“Please don’t cry. I hate when you cry.”

“It’s happy tears, I promise. Can you see me properly?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Well you’re pretty doped up. You could be seeing five of me for all I know.”

“Just one.”

“Out of both eyes or….?”

“Not so good out of the right. But yeah. Out of both.”

“I don’t think you’re really supposed to be awake right now. The doctors sort of said you wouldn’t be for a while.”

“Fuck ‘em. I do what I want.”

Esme grins, then pushes the chair away from the side of the bed and stands. “Yeah, you always do.” She presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay.”

“Are you in pain?”

“No. Just tired”

“Well you’ve had a hell of a day,” she reasons, combing her fingers through his hair and resting her hand on the top of his head. “As happy as I am that you’re awake, you really need to go back to sleep. That’s what you need right now. Sleep.”

Tyler nods. “You okay?”

“I’m okay.”

“The baby?”

“The baby’s fine. You don’t need to worry about us. There’s a lot of people that are stepping up to take care of us. Time to worry about yourself for a bit. Just close your eyes, okay?”

“Cold.”

“You’re cold?”

He nods once more.

“I can go and find you another blanket. I can…”

“No,” he quickly objects. “Stay. Don’t go.”

“I won’t,” she promises. “I won’t go anywhere. I’m right here.” She places a hand on the side of his face and presses a kiss to his temple. “I’m not leaving. I’m right here.”

“You’re warm.”

“It’s your sweater. I always steal them. They seem to keep me warmer than mine do. Here…” she shrugs out of the hoodie and gently lays it over him. “...that’ll help. You really need to sleep, Tyler. That’s the only way you’re going to get better and get out of here. You need to close your eyes and get some rest, alright?”

“Alright.”

“I’ll be here when you wake up. However long that is.”

“Love you.”

“I love you, too.” She presses a kiss to the bridge of his nose, then rests her forehead against his. Eyes closed as her fingers continue to run through his hair. It is soft and comforting. Soothing. Quickly helping him drift off once more.

#Tyler Rake #Tyler Rake fan fiction #Tyler Rake fan fic #Best Part of Me #Chris Hemsworth character #extraction #extraction 2020

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365-money-diary · 4 years ago

Text

DAYS 43-49

DAY FORTY-THREE

7:30 AM - Up a little early so I can close on my house. The process is pretty easy and I feel safe about it and such. We do it on the front porch with 6 foot folding table.

8:30 AM - I need to re-caulk the side door trim before I can start painting so I do that while I make my chemex. This is fun (not) because I don’t own a caulk gun.

10:30 AM - Eat a plant yogurt

12:00 PM - Snack on chips and salsa – damn the salsa I made is so good this time. Also make salad for lunch. I’m set up in the kitchen today which is clearly a bad scene because I keep going to the pantry for more snacks. Relocate to the bedroom.

2:00 PM - I really should get my barre class out of the way today. I have a 4PM happy hour and I know I won’t want to work out after that, so I do a 10 minute low impact ride and then start class.

4:00 PM - I get done with most of the class and hop on zoom. Make refried beans in the instant pot for dinner while we chat.

5:00 PM - Finish the zoom and knock out the last 10 minutes of barre. I don’t like to split the classes up like that but oh well.

6:00 PM - Finish making the beans as well as rice and jackfruit for burritos. K isn’t hungry so I watch an episode of The Challenge before making the burritos.

7:30 PM - Ok these are really good. Dang! I don’t want to drink tonight so I open a La Croix and try to hydrate.

DAY FORTY-THREE TOTAL: $0

DAY FORTY-FOUR

8:00 AM - I’m awake and I feel really good. K is still pretty conked out and I get the idea to go to Cartel. I haven’t been in a few months because cases were super high but now seems like a good opportunity. This is the one thing I do behind K’s back. It’s contactless and it’s super safe so I don’t really consider it to be a risk but I know he isn’t ready to drink things directly out of containers they’re served in on the same day you buy them so let’s just leave this between us. Buy a hot oat milk latte and tip $10. $17.57

10:00 AM - Make a chemex so K doesn’t suspect anything. Hang with him on the couch for a bit and then start moving around the furniture in the kitchen to start taping.

11:30 AM - Take a break to cook breakfast - tofu/egg tacos with field roast sausage.

12:15 PM - Back to taping. It takes forev, but I think I did a good job.

3:45 PM - First coat done. Watch an episode of The challenge before I apply the second.

5:30 PM - Done with the second. Watch more of the challenge.

7:00 PM - Dinner tonight is pozole. I take my time making it and drink a glass of wine while I cook.

8:00 PM - Dang this is so delicious.

DAY FORTY-FOUR TOTAL: $17.57

DAY FORTY-FIVE

9:00 AM - Woah I am SO SORE. What the hell? My quads. Make a chemex and work on putting the kitchen back together, but I run out of time and have to meet with S and her BF on zoom. K joins me and it’s a really good time.

11:15 PM - Ok back to tape removal.

12:15 PM - Done! / Looks good! Make more tofu tacos for breakfast.

2:00 PM - My boss is applying for citizenship in the US and she asked me to help build her a website. I have totally spaced it over the past two weeks and get cracking on it today. Make some good progress and send her what I have.

4:00 PM - Watch some episodes of The Challenge. For whatever reason this feels like the first time I’ve actually relaxed this weekend and I am here for it.

6:00 PM - We drive to a bar I DJ at on the reg during non-pandemic times to do a pick up of their Valentine’s Day special. Neither K or I are big V Day fans and we feel like this is good enough to “celebrate.” We get two veggie dogs, fries and a bottle of wine to take home. J (my friend who owns the bar) runs my card for $31ish and I tip $20. K insists he pays and he venmos me $50. $1.89

7:00 PM - I haven’t had fries in like… a year. And these ones are really delicious! The wine is good too. Spend the rest of the evening catching up on my blog. I haven’t felt very motivated to work on it this month.

8:00 PM - Get a charge from Amazon… S is buying movies again. Make a venmo request for $16 and she fulfills it. $0.19

DAY FORTY-FIVE TOTAL: $2.08

DAY FORTY-SIX

8:30 AM - WOW I am still sore WTF. Make a chemex and notice my tea kettle has a rust spot. Damnit. At this point, I would rather just buy an electric kettle with a gooseneck spout to get rid of both of my kettles, but I’m trying to stick to my budget this month. I’ve been covering K’s groceries throughout the pandemic and he owes me around $2k at this point. Because of this, I’ve kind of cut back on clothing and other frivolous purchases until he starts to pay me back so I can still save money every month. But rust is rust and I don’t want to get sick. Buy a Stagg EKG kettle with a nice wood handle. $160.62

10:00 AM - plant yogurt, a clementine and Pure Barre weekly charge. $15

12:00 PM - It’s salad time but I’m kind of out of tempeh and am a little burnt out on the miso Asian vibe anyways. Toss together some greens, bell pepper, onion, carrots, snap peas, cucumber, and a frozen Quorn spicy chicken patty and top it with cashew ranch. It’s honestly really good.

4:00 PM - Call M to wish him a happy bday. Tell him either next Sunday or the Sunday after that we will do a lunch thing together in his backyard to celebrate. Drink a nuun while we chat.

5:15 PM - I do a pure barre workout but make the mistake of doing it on my work computer at the post-workday slacks are coming in hot this AM. My body’s HR doesn’t really pick up but I still feel proud of myself for pushing thru the soreness.

7:00 PM - K and I eat big burritos for dinner with jackfruit, beans, rice, lettuce, tofutti sour cream, cheeze, and jalapenos with chips and salsa. They’re so good and I am sad that we’re out of tortilla chips and salsa now.

8:00 PM - Since dinner was kinda big and I had fries yesterday, I spend the evening hydrating instead of drinking wine. K and I watch a 4 part docuseries on Elisa Lam & the Cecil Hotel. At some point he goes off to work on some stuff and I wrap up this website I’m building for my boss who is working on getting her green card.

DAY FORTY-SIX TOTAL: $175.62

DAY FORTY-SEVEN

9:00 AM - Make a chemex. Finish the site and send it to my boss who approves. Hopefully I don’t have to actually post it for her. I hate dealing with hosting and such.

10:00 AM - I don’t really want yogurt today and find a small portion of tofu scramble leftover from Sunday. Heat that up and top with truffle hot sauce.

12:00 PM - Kill the rest of the salad ingredients today by making the same dish as yesterday but with peas instead of red bell peppers. Review the site I made for my boss. She sends me a $100 amazon gift card! How sweet.

5:00 PM - Get sucked in a meeting and am not able to leave until 5:30. I’m not interested in exercising this late so I zone out on the couch for a bit and snack on some gf pretzels. Start a new season of The Challenge. Drink a glass of wine.

7:00 PM - Heat up leftover pozole for dinner. Eat with K while we “watch” a hockey game.

8:30 PM - Pour another glass of wine and chat on the phone with Q. I end up feeling super antsy halfway through our conversation and decide to take a walk. I do a nice loop down to the lake and back to my house. Next time we decide that we will walk together.

10:30 PM - I check my phone after our conversation to see 100 slack messages from various team members. Looks like there is something going on which will affect the report I have to give tomorrow. Read thru, ask some questions and feel good about what I have to change.

DAY FORTY-SEVEN TOTAL: $0

DAY FORTY-EIGHT

8:15 AM - Up a little early today so I can adjust my report. Make a chemex while I pull numbers.

9:30 AM - Present the info. It’s good stuff! My boss is out of town so I think today should be pretty chill. Get a note from my bank that the wire of leftover funds from the mortgage stuff has been transferred to my checking totaling $1250.39.

12:00 PM - Make broccoli fried rice for lunch. Things turn chaotic for the rest of the day and by the time I know it, it’s 4:00 PM

4:15 PM - Decide to cut out early today and take a live barre class. 20 minutes in (10 minutes before 5), I get a message from my teammate asking to hop on zoom. She has computer issues so I’m actually able to finish the class before she’s ready.

7:00 PM - Finally done working. Rinse off and make pasta for dinner. Drink 3 glasses of wine.

9:30 PM - K and I play Mario Kart for a while before turning in.

DAY FORTY-EIGHT TOTAL: $0

DAY FORTY-NINE

8:30 AM - Today has to be more chill than yesterday… It just has to be. Make a chemex. See that my hair dresser is selling shirts for her shop. Venmo her. $25

12:00 PM - Prep chicken seitan shreds. Broccoli fried rice for lunch with seltzer.

1:30 PM - Finish making the seitan, eat an apple, gf pretzels and carrots. I realize I forgot to eat breakfast this AM. Ugh.

5:00 PM - My butt is super sore from yesterday but I do my barre workout anyways. It’s so nice to not be interrupted. My cal burn is low but I don’t even care. It’s just nice to move.

6:00 PM - Rinse off and prep dinner. We make buffalo chicken sandwiches with roasted potatoes. They turn out pretty good and I’m excited to eat them over the next few days.

8:00 PM - Drink a glass of wine. I google if I can have more since I’m getting the COVID vaccine tomorrow and it seems like one is ok but maybe not more so I decide against it.

DAY FORTY-NINE TOTAL: $25

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