#and start the medical leave process thank god my work is being so cool about all this | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

quinncupine · 4 years ago

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Yo imagine being in the general class of UA and being recovery girl’s little apprentice/intern and one of the 1A boys constantly getting hurt (whether its on purpose or accidentally ) as an excuse to come visit; I’m imagining todoroki or kaminari because I’m in a mood for those 2 and Deku wouldn’t need to an excuse 🙄

Ha, of course Deku wouldn't need an excuse!🙄 That's his second home at this point. I’ve never written for Kaminari before so this was a fun little experience! Sorry I’m answering this so late, I took a little writing break last week, but now I’m back on the grind! (Also I tried to keep this gender neutral as well!)

Word count: ~2.8K

Wanna request something?

Quinns Masterlist!

Midoriya, Kaminari, and Todoroki with Intern!Reader

Midoriya

"Midoriya, Midoriya, Midoriya," a soft voice sighed in mock exasperation. "How did I know I would find you here yet again."

Izuku flinched and looked up from his spot on the bed to see you casually leaning against the doorframe. That signature white lab coat draped over your form suited you perfectly. You looked like a real doctor standing there with the little clipboard tucked neatly into your waist and that warm smile radiating off you. To say that your smile had an effect on him was an understatement.

"Uh," he chuckled with a nervous smile, "sorry, I know I was just here yesterday."

"Yesterday? Midoriya, you've been here every day this week." Hopping off the door frame, you crossed your arms. "Do you wanna see me that bad?"

It was only a joke, but his face flushed a bright crimson at your words. Suddenly, every spot other than you seemed much more interesting to stare at, so he didn't catch that smirk lighting up your face as you stepped into the room.

A quick flip through the probably too many pages in his chart that he'd racked up this year alone, "So, what's it this time?"

"Just a sprained wrist," he held up said wrist. "I thought it was fine, but then it started to swell so I, uh, thought I should come here…just in case."

"And how did it happen?" you set the chart down and pulled the little wheeled stool to sit in front of him. With gentle fingers, you prodded the bruised skin.

At your touch, he stiffened. You were so close, eyes solely focused on his wrist. While you were examining him, he took the opportunity to stare at you with those giant green eyes of his, cataloging every inch of your face. When you began your internship with Recovery Girl, he was shocked the first time he walked in here to see you instead of the older woman. Not that he was complaining. You were way more amiable with him and although you didn't appreciate him injuring himself so much, he'd come to quite like these little meetings with just the two of you.

"Lucky for you, it's not too bad," you decided, looking up to meet his deer-eyed gaze. One which he promptly looked away from. "Ice it for twenty minutes a few times today and the swelling should go down. I'll get you a compression bandage." When you stood up to root through the doors for the bandage, you glanced back at him. "What'd you do, punch a brick wall?"

"Concrete actually," he stuttered out. "I missed my opponent, couldn't stop my follow-through in time."

The power he held always amazed you, but you were always the one to see the after-effects during training. He was strong to a point of recklessness. Something he really needed to work on. Finally finding the bandages, you walked back to your stool.

"Well, I hope you kicked that wall's ass then." Grabbing his hand, you locked eyes with him, "just don't overdo it too much. You only have two hands so try and keep them for at least a few more years yeah?"

Izuku was only half-listening, too entranced by your touch to keep up with the conversation. As you carefully wrapped his wrist, he sat back, taking the time to take in your image. This was really the only time he ever got to see you. The support department was on the opposite side of campus and those classes rarely ever teamed up. Besides, you were part of the relief support courses, not tactical, which meant the two of you would never train together while here. And while you were great at this part, patching him up right quick, and sending him on his way, he couldn't help but wish you were slower. All he wanted was to just sit here forever with you, injuries be damned.

"Right then, here we are," Straightening up, you finished wrapping the limb, and with a double check to make sure everything was in order, you smiled up at him. "You know, I should start charging each time you come in here. I bet you'd be able to cover this entire department's budget in a week.

"Oh, you think so?" the way he cocked his head, that cute little innocent widening of his eyes seemed to inject serotonin straight into your veins. The boy was just too adorable for his own good and he didn't even know it. "Sorry, I don't mean to be a bother."

"A bother? You?" An airy laugh blew past your lips. "My day would be so boring if I didn't have my favorite patient to keep me company." He tried his best to hide that all too obvious blush creeping up his neck. "Although, I could do without all the injuries you seem to be racking up."

Izuku turned his focus to the newly wrapped wrist, biting on his lower lip. He couldn't even bring himself to look at you or he might combust on the spot. When you left his side to go wash your hands, he finally sneaked a peek. Now that you were done, he was going to have to leave. He didn't want to leave. He liked being here with you. For whatever reason, anytime you were near him, his heart raced and he felt lightheaded, but also a million times better, even with whatever injuries he was sporting. If he didn't already know your quirk, he would've thought you had the ability to heal with just a simple smile. You were an adrenaline boost he always looked forward to.

"You're not always here, right?" the words left his mouth before he even realized he said them aloud. "I, uh, I mean, you do other things outside the recovery ward?"

"Sure," you shrugged, drying your hands. "You're not always training, right?" With a pause you shook your head, "wait, don't answer that. I think I already know that answer." Casting a smirk at him, he looked down at his shoes, a smile of his own taking root. "I'll have you know I do do other things besides patching up one Mr. Broken Bones Midoriya."

"Oh yeah, of course, you do!" he tripped over the words as they spilled from his mouth. "I just mean that your really cool and stuff but I never really see you other than here and I know the campus is big, but I just thought that maybe you, or I, or, or…uh…" he was running out of gas and confidence so he decided to abandon ship and jump to his feet, intent on escaping this sinking boat. "Um, anyway, thanks for the uh-thanks for this!" Waving his wrist, he made for the exit but before he could make his hasty getaway, you stepped in front of him.

"Geez Midoriya, calm down," it was like trying to corral a frantic bunny. The boy's eyes were darting all over the place, probably looking for a different escape route. "Tell ya what, when that wrist heals up and if you don't get any more injuries before the weekend, let's see if we can change not seeing each other around."

Izuku froze, the words processing in his mind a few times before they finally clicked. "You mean like a-a…"

"Just try not to get hurt for at least a few days? You placed a hand on his shoulder and lead him towards the door. "Think you can manage that?"

He'd never been so motivated to stay this healthy before. A furious nod and you sent him off with a wink. When the door closed, he slumped against the wall outside, bandaged wrist against his chest, trying to stop the mini horse race trampling through his chest. What he didn't know was that you were on the opposite side of that door, one hand to your own chest, the other trying to combat the heat on your cheeks. You'd been working up the courage to do that all week because god knows when Midoriya would ever find the courage to do it. An all too excited squeal rushed out of your mouth before you could stop it. This was going to be an interesting week.

KAMINARI

You could hear the babbling from down the hall before you saw him. That stupid deep-fried laugh was synonymous with one person and one person only. Dropping the pen and whirling around in your chair, you leaned your elbow on the armrest as two of the school's med bots ushered Denki in. Thumbs up and that dopey smile plastered on his face had you trying your best to contain the giggle building in your throat.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in," you smirked at the blonde who'd been sat on one of the beds. "Go over your limit again Kaminari?"

"Yay…" he mumbled and fell back on the bed with a groan.

It wasn't the first time he'd come in with a fried brain and if there was one thing you knew about him, it wouldn't be the last. The good thing is he usually just needed to sleep it off for a bit. But being the ever diligent medical intern, you came over to check him over.

Denki laid sprawled out on the bed, hands finally giving out and falling to his side. After a quick examination, he appeared to be in working order, just needed a bit of a recharge, so you returned to your paperwork and let him be.

A half-hour later, he sat up with a loud groan, rubbing his head, "Uh, that majorly sucked."

"Ah, so sleeping beauty finally rises," you didn't even turn to him but still felt that charming smile bounce off your back.

"You really think I'm a beauty?" he grinned, standing up to stretch. "You know I'm still pretty sore, I could always get back in bed and we can see if a kiss will make me feel better."

"Tell me," a playful tug on your lips as you twirled in your chair to face him, "do any of those lines ever work?"

"That's for you to answer and for me to find out."

"Sorry to disappoint bud, but I don't think you're gonna like my answer." Satisfied with his little pout, you turned back to continue your work. "You're fine Kaminari, you can go back to class now."

"Aww, but being here with you is so much better," he trudged over to your desk and leaned on the back of the chair. "Can't you write me a doctor's note so I can stay here with your beautiful face for the rest of the day?"

"And what would you even want to do here with me for the rest of the day, hmm?" you hadn't meant it to sound like an innuendo, but judging from his flushed expression, he'd taken it that way.

"Don't tell me you're interested in the medical field now?" it was your attempt to gain control of the conversation again. "And after all that hard hero training you do."

"Uh, I…" a small spark shot between his hands as he tried to think of something to say. You must've really thrown him off this time, although that isn't very hard to do. After a few moments of fidgeting, he deflated and dropped his head. "All right, I'll go back to class."

"Aww come now, don't look so down," you laughed, leaning back in your chair. "I'm sure Mr. Aizawa is much more fun than I am."

"Yeah, if you think torture is fun," he pulled his hair with a whine and slogged towards the door. When he reached for the handle, he paused and glanced back at you with a forlorn look. "Not even a kiss for the road?"

"Hmm," tapping your chin with the pen, you smirked, "maybe if you come up with a less cheesy pick-up line, then I might be more inclined."

That perked him up more than any jolt of electricity could do. "Well you're in luck babe, I've got plenty of 'em!"

"Let's hear it then, I'm all ears."

"Okay, okay…" he scrunched his face and crossed his arms. You could practically see the gears turning as he thought it through. "Damn," he spoke after a moment, trying to hide his smirk, "you're so beautiful you made me forget my pick-up line."

You chucked the pen at him with a snort, which he narrowly dodged, hopping halfway out the door in the process. "Oh my god Kaminari, I said less cheesy, get out of here!"

That dorky grin back on his face, he held up his hands. "Fine, but don't think I'm finished here. I will find one that works." With a wave, he disappeared, yelling through the door, "mark my words!"

TODOROKI

Honestly, the scrape wasn't even that bad or that deep, but he still found himself marching towards Recovery girls office in hopes he'd find you there. Ever since you became her intern, he seemed to find himself injured more and more frequently…by total accident of course.

"Oh, Todoroki," you smiled as he walked in. "What brings you in today?"

"I injured my arm during training today," he said flatly, holding the appendage up. There was a sizable gash under what looked like scorch marks. "I thought it best to get it checked out."

"Geez, who were you fighting this time?"

"Bakugo," with a shrug, he glanced at his arm.

"Well, that makes sense," you waved him to one of the beds, "come on, let's have a look then."

Silently, he sat down on the examination bed, the stiff paper ruffling as he scooted back slightly when you approached. His whole body was stiff, eyes staring everywhere but your face. It didn't look much different from his usual self, but internally, he was having a slight meltdown from your mere proximity alone.

Sliding the stool over, you sat down and twisted his left arm back and forth to get a good look, muttering a few things before giving it back. "the cuts shallow which means no stitches, so that's good. Should heal on its own in a few days. I'll just clean it and wrap it, then you're good to go."

"Oh," the word unintentionally slipped out.

When you looked up at him, you noticed the tiniest of pouts forming on his lips. "Unless something else is wrong?"

"No!" he said a little too quickly.

Something else was definitely wrong. Throwing him a quizzical look, you headed for the drawers that held your supplies. "That's good I suppose," you said lightly, "It seems like I've been seeing you almost every day this week alone."

"Sorry," he muttered.

"I didn't say I was complaining," with a grin, you sat back in front of him with sterilizing pads and gauze.

Those words alone were enough for his left side to flare up. When your fingers touched his arm to clean the wound, you flinched away.

"Uh, hey Todoroki," you cocked your head, trying to maintain that professional demeanor Recovery Girl kept pestering you about (although the old woman should take her own advice) and not crack a smile. When his eyes finally met your own, you pointed to his arm, raising a brow. "Might wanna tone down the heat there."

He blinked. Then blinked again before realizing what the problem was. His cheeks flushed almost the same color as his hair and turned his head in embarrassment, rasping out a quiet apology.

"Are you sure everything's okay?" dapping the wound after the skin cooled down, your eyes wandered up to his. "You seem a little worked up."

"Something like that," he mumbled, watching your hands delicately work, using that as a distraction to keep from staring at your face. The same face he could easily find himself lost in if he gave himself the chance. So he decided to change the subject. "It's quiet here." Yeah, way to go, man, real insightful.

"Yeah, Recovery Girl gives me the quietest shifts until I gain enough experience." Once the soot was cleaned off, you grabbed the gauze. "You don't always have to be injured to come visit me, you know." Sparing a quick glance up at him, you started wrapping the limb. "I wouldn't mind the company."

"Am I even allowed in here without an excuse?" It was just a curious question but your frown caught him off-guard, wondering if he said something wrong.

"Couldn't hurt to find out," you mumbled, "I mean we are in an infirmary." Tying off the gauze, you patted just below the cut with a small smile. "Okay, you're all patched up. You're free to go."

"Does it have to be here?" Shoto suddenly stood up, eyes meeting your own.

"What?"

"You said you wouldn't mind the company," he furrowed his brow. "Does it have to be here?"

"Well, no, I was just saying…wait, you wanna see me outside of here?" you gestured around the room, a little baffled.

He nodded, looking less confident by the minute. "If that's alright with you."

The smile that lit up your face was brighter than any flames Shoto could ever hope to produce. "It's more than alright with me."

...

taglist: @dorki-time @awilddreamerwrites @peachsenpie @thecindy @miriobaby @kiyoobi @dragonsdreamoffire @amive2567

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #izuku midoriya #izuku midoriya x reader #kaminari denki #kaminari denki x reader #todoroki shoto #todoroki shoto x reader #gender neutral reader #intern!reader #the boys being adorable #denki is totally cheesy dork #request

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erimeows · 3 years ago

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Could we maybe get some Sentinel falling for a human and hating it headcannons/scenario? The human is just really nice and very smart! An ex Sumdak scientist who moved in with the bots and Sari after Sari got kicked out? They help them find the AllSpark? Magnus has a lot of respect for them as they've helped find the All Spark shards and done a lot of research on autobot and decepticon history and found out weaknesses. Sentinel is so angry cause Magnus clearly favors them over other humans so he has to get used to that and them? Maybe Optimus likes them and that sets Sentinel off?

Sure thing! May have twisted this a bit, but hope you enjoy!

Oh my God, he hates it with everything in his entire being.

It starts simply enough. When he arrives on earth, he notices that, like the tiny rude organic known as Sari, you’re around the Autobots all the time. Like... All the time. Helping them find All Spark fragments, doing research for them, helping Isaac Sumdak with his creations, taking care of Sari.

So, since you’re a tiny adult human and he has unchecked mental health issues that he likes to take out on others, he starts off trying to be mean to you.

The first time, he trips you while walking past you in the hallway. You don’t notice it was intentional, but fall pretty hard and scrape your hands up so badly that you’re tearing up. Sentinel refuses to apologize or acknowledge that he’s in the wrong but feels oddly guilty and decides to help you take care of your hands. You’re very thankful, offering him a hug, which he denies and runs off because of, spewing some half-assed insults on his way out.

He can’t get you off his processor after that. He feels like a shitbag for not even owning up to being the one who tripped you and feels like a loser for helping you. You’re an organic, he hates you like the rest of them, he doesn’t feel bad for you.

Next time he sees you, he tries again to be mean to you, making a comment on what you’re wearing and asking what trashcan you dug it out of. Most humans get frustrated and yell at him or insult him back when he talks to them like that unprompted, but you only shrug him off and asks if he’s feeling alright or wants to sit down to cool down for a moment. Uh. Huh? He’s confused at first, utterly perplexed that you might think he’s weak, upset, or hurt, or... Something, but then his confusion turns to anger, and again, he storms off, unsure of how to handle someone who’s not angry at or annoyed by him.

You pay a lot of attention to him after that and he hates it; always trying to offer him things, share smalltalk, take him places, etc. He hates it even more when he notices just how much everyone else loves you, too; Sari was fine, and so was Optimus and his stupid pile of scrap metal that he called a team, but ULTRA MAGNUS? Oh, it had him fuming from his exhaust pipes. Even Ultra Magnus was charmed by you and looked for whatever excuse he could get to talk to you on earth.

Okay, whatever. Everyone and everybot likes you, so Sentinel is convinced he hates you for that and for having a holier-than-thou attitude that won’t allow you to retaliate against him when he’s rude to you even though all he wants is for you to feed into it. Totally.

That is until he starts getting... Jealous, namely of Ultra Magnus and Optimus Prime for talking to you so much. The embarrassing thing is that he can’t even pinpoint it at first; all he knows is that he gets pissed off when he sees Optimus giving you a shoulder rub after a long day and having a conversation with him over dinner (for you) and energon (for Optimus) and gets pissed off when he sees you, a human, walking by Ultra Magnus’s side and casually conversing with him like he’s your equal.

“I don’t get it, Jazz! Why is she talking to both of them like that? Why is it making me so mad?”

“Could it be... You aren’t so much mad that she’s a human who’s close with Ultra Magnus, but that you’re jealous of O.P. and Ultra Magnus for being so close to (y/n) when you’re not?”

The conversation with Jazz had been impromptu and a big mistake, as he blew a fuse immediately after and had to be taken to Ratchet for some minor repairs. Everyone is concerned, no one has any idea what’s going on, but he’s stuck in Ratchet’s medbay for a day and you’re asked to watch him overnight since you’re the most qualified to do any fixes should he have any issues, and Ratchet needs to recharge.

“So... What happened?”

“Don’t worry about it! Primus, you humans are always so nosy-” Sentinel starts scolding you and moves to get up from the medberth, but you place a gentle hand on his servo and he can’t help but freeze in place.

“I’m not doing this with you tonight, Sentinel Prime. Recover and let me stay by your side to make sure you’re okay.”

“Just leave! I’ll be fine, I’m a member of the-”

“I know.”

“Then why do you care!?”

“Because I know you can be kind, and whether you want to or not, you need to rest and have someone monitor you over night! You blew a fuse in your head, and while that itself is a minor injury, if you do it again it’s going to be harder to fix and you could blow more. I’d rather not extent your stay in here.”

Naturally, he asks what you, as a human, could possibly know about robots/Cybertronians and their health. After getting him to lay back down, you tell him about how you used to work for Isaac Sumdac as a scientist before you started taking care of Sari when he disappeared, and that right after the Autobots arrived on earth, you studied them closely enough to figure out most of their anatomy and received some training under Ratchet to act as a second medic for them.

Oh. That makes sense. Sentinel feels a bit foolish but doesn’t say anything and waits until he can fall into recharge, but when he wakes up the next morning, you’re sitting on a stool by his berthside, passed out with your head resting on his thigh.

He doesn’t have the heart to wake you up and pretends to still be resting with his optics shut until Ratchet comes in and wakes you up himself.

He’s released with a clean bill of health and immediately goes to find Jazz.

“What do you mean by that!?”

“Uh, slow down before you blow another fuse, S.P., but you know what I meant,” Jazz laughed at him, and naturally, Sentinel took a few to process what had been said the previous day.

Jazz was implying that Sentinel wasn’t mad at you for being a human and interacting with Optimus/Ultra Magnus, but that he was mad at Optimus and Ultra Magnus for interacting with you because...

Oh. Sentinel realized that he was jealous, and in not being able to be mean to you anymore, he found himself watching you a lot. You were intelligent, kind, attractive... The opposite of him, to be honest, but when it hit him all at once, he ends up having a melt down of sorts.

Locking himself in his berth on Ultra Magnus’s ship for days on end, not drinking enough energon, going between sleeping to escape his feelings and pacing around doing nothing but dwelling on them, Sentinel Prime is a mess when he realizes that he has a crush on you. It makes sense, but... Why did it have to be an organic? He can’t even cope with it.

Eventually, he snaps out of it and decides that he’s going to take the logical approach with this; ignore his feelings and push them deep, deep down in his spark so he doesn’t have to acknowledge or deal with them. He shouldn’t like you anyways, right? You’re just a stupid human!

Except... You’re not. You’re beautiful, you’re brilliant, you’re caring, and a million other things he cares not to admit. So he’s stuck. He won’t confess his feelings to you or really think about them because he knows all he’s ever done is be mean to you, and honestly, he doesn’t deserve you and is afraid of you rejecting him.

Things stay stagnant for a while, but he’s a little nicer to you. Still rude, still making unnecessary comments about you being a human, but hey, he doesn’t try to trip you anymore and is always defending you when anyone/anybot brings up your name behind your back. Every other Autobot catches on to what’s happening but just doesn’t say anything because they know Sentinel will try to pummel them LMAO.

But then... Valentine’s day rolls around. For whatever reason, he decides to hang around earth that day and learn about the customs since you and Sari seem excited to teach him and the other Autobots about it.

A day of romance where lovers give each other gifts... Okay, so basically, nothing to do with him, but he notices that Sari, Bee, and Bulkhead decide to go see a movie since they don’t have anyone/anybot to do anything with, and Ratchet goes off to work in his medbay, while Jazz and Prowl suddenly disappear to do their own thing and Ultra Magnus is preoccupied with work on his ship. That just leaves Sentinel, you, and Optimus.

The amount of frustration in him when Optimus hands you a bouquet of (f/c) roses is something he can’t even comprehend. So, when you walk off to go find a vase to put them in, Sentinel turns to his old friend with a glare.

“Who do you think you are? How long have you felt that way towards her?”

“Uh, Sentinel? (y/n) and I are just really good friends? I know she’s what her species would refer to as “single” at the moment and I didn’t think you’d do anything for her, so I got her those to make her feel special tonight.”

“What’s that supposed to mean!?” Sentinel exclaims at Optimus’s bold assumption that he wouldn’t do anything for you for Valentine’s day... Which was totally true. He didn’t have the guts to buy you flowers or chocolates or any of the other things that Sari said humans liked for the occasion, but apparently Optimus did, and while he now knew that Optimus didn’t have any romantic feelings towards you, it still hurt.

“It means that even though you’ve been obsessed with her since the Elite Guard got here, you treat her with no kindness whatsoever because you’re too prideful to admit your feelings and want to cover them up,” Optimus puts a hand on his shoulder. “Now, I’m going to go spend the rest of the night with Ratchet so he isn’t by himself, but I’ll leave you to figure this out. Good luck, old buddy.”

Optimus walks off, and the words hit hard. Sentinel knows that what his friend said is right, so when you get back with the roses in a vase to set down on the table and ask him where Optimus went, he decides it’s time. Without dwelling on it too much, he grabs your hands to hold in his servos, standing in the middle of the living room and spilling his guts out to you before telling you “Happy Valentine’s Day... Or whatever,” and pulling you in for a kiss.

Thankfully, you reciprocate.

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slippinmickeys · 4 years ago

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Head Canon AU Mulder and Scully as Archeologist and Scientist at a dig in ruins in the Amazon.

Anon! Thank you so much. I saw this this morning and got that rare inspiration wherein I launched myself at this, and kind of love what I came up with. I hope you enjoy it! (It is unbeta-ed)

1. The University was being cheap. That was the first thing. Piggybacking off the hard work he’d put in: years worth of toil to arrange this meticulously set-up dig. If they wanted to send a team to study advanced medical uses of the vast biome of the Amazon rainforest, they’d do far better sending this approaching medical team into the interior. His team -- his dig -- was practically on the outskirts. The forest around them had already been explored and researched, catalogued and referenced. The real biological finds -- the cures for Alzheimer’s, cancer -- would be found in the unknown, in those places even the aboriginal people hadn’t stepped. The University was being cheap, plunking in a science team on a completely separate mission with his own, just to save some cash. That was the bottom line.

If it hadn’t been so oppressively hot so early in the morning, he might not have been quite so irritated. As it was, he stood on the bank of the river and ran an already sweat-soaked handkerchief over the back of his neck, willing the putting little outboard Evinrude to chug a little more quickly upstream. It was hot and stiflingly humid, and he’d wanted to be at the dig two hours ago, before the heat of the day set in. Too late, that.

The incoming medical team -- if you could call it a team -- seemed to consist of only one person. A short-statured wisp of a woman (if the high, top-knotted messy red bun was any indication of sex) who sat low in the backseat of the approaching riverboat, surrounded by expensive-looking boxes filled with technology that probably wouldn’t operate well in the humidity. He blew an irritated raspberry and shuffled his feet in the muddy squelch of the riverbank.

The stout block of the driver hefted a rope at Mulder as they approached, which Mulder caught easily and wrapped around a nearby tree.

“Tudo vai bem?” Mulder inquired as the man cut the engine and grunted an affirmative.

The passenger stood, keeping a hand on the side of the little tin vessel, its stern fishtailing out into the current. Mulder stepped up and held out a hand, which she grasped gratefully. He pulled and she took a confident leap, landing lightly on the ground next to him.

“Dr. Mulder, I presume?” she said on a light breath, looking up at him with a small smile, having to crane her neck to do so. She had astonishingly blue eyes, a color he’d only seen once, in an ice-cave in the far north. He shook his head after a moment and realized that he was still holding her hand. He dropped it, nodding.

“I thank God, doctor, I have been permitted to see you,” she finished, quoting the journals of Henry Morton Stanley.

Mulder outright laughed. He was smitten immediately.

2. “Be careful with that!” she’d barked, as Langly handed out her equipment to a couple of waiting locals that had been working on the project for three years.

Mulder held up a calming hand.

“You’re working with archeologists, Dr. Scully,” he said softly, “my team has the gentlest hands in the Southern Hemisphere.”

She quirked one side of a grin at him even as she threw a worried look over her shoulder at her equipment.

“Come on,” he said, giving her sleeve a gentle tug, “let me show you around.”

He showed her the latrine first, watching her face carefully for a reaction, but she just nodded nonchalantly and kept walking. Then the mess, and the tent where she’d be working when she wasn’t in the field.

“And this,” he said, taking her to an empty patch of jungle, “is where your bunk will be. My apologies that it’s not set up. There’s no female barracks and we were told you wouldn’t be here until next week. The radio communique we got this morning informing us of your arrival came as something of a surprise.”

“I’m eager to get started,” was all she said in response.

Mulder walked on and she followed him.

“I’m afraid the only empty cot is in my tent,” he said sheepishly. “Dr. Byers headed home for a funeral last month and we’re not expecting him back until March. I’ll be sure yours is set up right away, but takes some time as we have to build a platform first. Have you done jungle field work before?”

“I flew here from Borneo,” she said. “It’s not a problem.” With that, she flipped back the tent’s outer curtain and ducked inside like she owned the place.

She never did move out.

3. Scully’s father had been diagnosed with stage four pancreatic cancer and hadn’t lived long enough to see her graduate from medical school. She would not let it happen to anyone else if she could help it, she’d said. She worked like a woman possessed.

Against all advice, she would march into the jungle alone and be gone for days at a time. When her grad students finally arrived, they couldn’t keep up with her, and she’d frequently leave them at base camp to work on the equipment (which, Mulder was not really that pleased to report, did have a tendency to malfunction in the miasmic humidity and heat of the Amazon basin. It wasn’t, he admitted, that easy always being right). Occasionally she could be talked into taking one of the local hires with her, but she felt bad taking workers that Mulder’s project funding paid for, and anyway, they weren’t trained in her science, she would tell him.

“I wish you wouldn’t go out on your own,” he murmured into the cup of her ear one night, a trickle of sweat running from her hairline and onto the tip of his nose.

She turned on the cot, a feat, considering its fairly narrow dimensions, and pressed her forehead against his, the flimsy pillow damp beneath them both.

“I’m careful,” she whispered, and threw a leg over him, her dewy mons pressing into the naked flesh of his thigh.

“It’s not safe-” he began to protest, but she’d captured his lips with her own and he fell headlong into the lush heat of her -- whatever concern that had been on the tip of his tongue lost to her rapacious mouth as it trailed a slick path down his torso and latched, vitae and greedy, around the rigid length of him. It was bliss. She was bliss. If he had ever thought he knew love, he was wrong.

4. The whole camp knew they were together. Her tent had become a kind of catchall storage area, and it’s not like nylon canvas could contain the breathy moans of their pleasure. That and she’d just plunk down and sit on his lap whenever the only camp chair available around the mess tent was the one with the tricky leg.

Anyway, what happened in the field stayed in the field, unless it was up for peer review.

“Are you guys going to get married or something?” Mulder’s newest grad student asked one night when the air had actually cooled enough to take the edge off of everybody’s temper. Beer had arrived with their latest resupply and Frohike had syphoned off some LN2 to cool it and it was frosty and rich and maybe the best thing Mulder had ever tasted aside from Scully’s skin.

Scully, from atop his lap, merely shrugged and took a leisurely sip of brew. Mulder pictured it sliding down her throat, the cold blooming into her belly and he dry swallowed, then leaned forward and kissed her shoulder.

“God, don’t be such a newb,” drawled Langly, pressing his glasses into his face compulsively.

Mulder knew what Langly meant. They’d all seen their share of field romances that fizzled the second your boots stepped back onto University soil, though something about Scully felt different; the way their minds worked together, the way she felt in his arms.

“I’m married to the job, bro,” Scully said, but reached back and squeezed the skin just above Mulder’s hip. He kissed her shoulder again.

“D’you tell her about the helo data?” Frohike asked, looking at Mulder from his own camp chair. The little man sat low and back in it with his shoulders hunched up, and Mulder thought he looked a bit like a toad, or an ogre guarding a burial mound.

They’d gotten the funding from a billionaire alumni to fly a helicopter over the whole of the basin in this sector of the Amazon, using light detection radar. Basically, it shot out billions of lasers as it flew overhead that were able to penetrate the rainforest’s canopy and map the landscape below.

“You had a chance to analyze it?” Scully asked, craning her head to look at him squarely.

He nodded, smiling. He’d been saving this to tell her especially.

“And you were able to combine it with the satellite data?” she asked, excited.

He nodded again. “Sóis,” he said, smiling. The settlements they’d found took their name from the Portuguese word for ‘suns.’ They were round villages, all with remarkably similar layouts, with elongated mounds circling a central plaza. When seen from above, they looked like the rays of the sun. “Pre-Columbian.”

She jumped off his lap, spilling half her beer in the process. It dripped down the bare skin of her knee, unnoticed.

“Are you kidding?!” her excitement made him giddy.

“It gets better,” he said, and she cocked her head, waiting for him to elaborate. “They’re laid out like the cosmos,” he said, giving her a full-watt smile as he rose out of the chair to stand in front of her. “We’re already plotted three different villages, all laid out in the exact design of southern constellations.” Her mouth dropped open. “Canis Major, Hydra, and Crux Australis.”

She launched herself into his arms, practically squealing -- something he’d never heard her do -- and he held her, looking around at the smiling faces of the other scientists in the mess. The find would make his career, and her excitement for him touched him profoundly.

5. Martim, one of their local hires, came careening into camp, breathing so hard he had to put his hands on his knees to catch his breath. His face was a mask of anxiety and fear. Mulder felt dread bloom in his gut, and he dropped what he was doing -- actually dropped the computer tablet he was holding to the wet forest floor -- and ran over to the man, grasping him firmly by the shoulder.

“Martim?” he said, “O que aconteceu?”

“Dr. Scully,” the man heaved, his accent thick. He could still scarcely breathe.

“Where is she?” Mulder didn’t have the emotional wherewithal to translate from English. “What happened?”

“Hurt,” the man wheezed, “she’s hurt.”

It took nearly thirty minutes to assemble a rescue party, and they had to let Martim rest for a bit and give him food and water before he could take them back out into the jungle where he’d left Scully. Mulder was beside himself by the time they finally started off, impatient as a recalcitrant child, sick to his stomach with worry.

It took three hours to hack into the area where she’d been doing her search, and a further twenty minutes of calling her name before they heard her weak call back.

Mulder raced ahead without thought to obstacle or danger, and skidded to a halt when he was practically on top of her. She was leaning back against the base of a large tree, holding onto her right ankle, which she had elevated on her left knee. There was a length of rope beside her and a climbing harness around her butt and waist.

“Scully,” he panted, falling to his knees beside her.

She smiled at him weakly, her face pale and sweaty.

“I think it’s broken,” she hissed, pointing at her ankle.

“What happened?” Mulder asked, as the rest of the rescue party trundled in behind him, pulling off backpacks and other equipment. Someone handed Scully a bottle of water.

“I saw a fungus I’d never seen before growing on the bark midway up this tree,” she said after guzzling half a bottle of Arrowhead. “The carabiner failed on my descent.”

“Oh, Scully,” Mulder said, reaching out to tuck a damp lock of titian hair behind her ear.

“I got the sample, though,” she said with a tired, but victorious glint in her eye.

They weren’t back into camp until well after nightfall.

Mulder picked her up from the field stretcher and carried her into their tent, depositing her gently onto her cot. Langly came in behind him and handed him two fresh cold packs before ducking back out without a word. Mulder popped them to activate the chemicals and pressed them gingerly on either side of Scully’s ankle.

“I’m going to call for a medical evac,” he said quietly.

“Don’t you dare,” she said, grabbing at his hand and squeezing it. “Mulder, don’t you fucking dare.”

“Scully, we’ve got to follow protocol here,” he said, trying not to sound put out.

“Do not take me out of the field, Mulder. Promise me.”

“Scully-”

“Promise me!”

“How will you even work?” he said a little desperately.

“It doesn’t need setting or surgery,” she said, gesturing to her injured limb.

“How do you know that without an X-ray?”

“I’m a medical doctor,” she said, by way of explanation, “I can secure it with supplies we have on hand. I can work from my cot for a few days and make crutches out of tree limbs. Please, Mulder,” she said, and he could feel himself relenting, even if it would get him in trouble. “Please.”

He sighed, and she smiled up at him weakly, though he didn’t say a thing.

“Thank you,” and closed her eyes, relaxing into her pillow, “thank you.”

Six weeks later the canvas of their tent ripped back and the greenish glow of leaf-filtered sunlight shone into the murky, damp depths. Mulder rose from where he was resting on his cot and looked to the entrance. Scully stood there, armpit resting on her improvised crutch, her hair a rich autumn frizz around her head. Her eyes were wide and shining, and there was something incandescent about her in that moment -- an energy pulsing from her that lit his soul from within.

“Scully-” he started, but she held up a hand to silence him. Her hands were shaking.

“I found it,” she said, her voice breathy with the triumph of discovery, “Mulder, I found it.”

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spencers-renaissance · 4 years ago

Text

I found my way home

Summary: After Spencer tells Hotch about his recent autism diagnosis, he expects that to be the end of it. Somehow, though, it keeps coming up, and Hotch keeps proving himself to be the best father figure he could have asked for.

Tags: autistic spencer, protective hotch, hurt/comfort, fluff, paternal hotch, team as family

TW: mentions of ableism, one small instance of ableism & homophobia

Pairing: Gen

Word Count: 4.1k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

This was borne from my conversations with @criminalmindsvibez about the lack of autistic spencer fics and her amazing headcanons. While I'm not autistic, Emily is, and helped me to portray Spencer's autism as accurately as possible. That said, please feel free to correct me on anything I got wrong :)

Spencer had made an effort to get into work even earlier than usual today. He’d ridden the metro through the city, dipping his hand into his messenger bag every few minutes to compulsively check that the slim letter he’d received in the post the other day is still in the front pocket where he’d safely placed it that morning. He brushes his fingers over the paper once more as he enters the near-empty bullpen, the letter cool from the winter air.

It’s still so surreal to him that this is where he works. After years of dreaming of working for the FBI he’s finally here, and even though it’s been his place of work for almost two months now, he’s still not used to it. The warm offices are a nice reprieve from the wintry December wind, and he can feel himself relaxing as he heads to his desk. Leaving his coat and messenger bag on his chair, he pulls the letter out of the front pocket and runs his index finger along the edge. He finds himself biting his bottom lip as he tries to work up the courage to go and see Hotch.

Sucking in a deep breath, he marches determinedly up to Hotch’s office, entering as soon as his knocks are answered.

“Reid,” Hotch says pleasantly as he takes a seat opposite his desk, realising belatedly that he probably should have waited until he was invited. “You’re in early. What can I do for you?”

Nervously, Spencer hands him the letter he’d couriered across the city so carefully. He’d taken care to open it neatly with his letter opener but the return address on the back has been stamped at a crooked angle, and it bothers him every time he notices it. He can’t stop looking at it now as he taps his fingers anxiously against his leg in the pattern of the Fibonacci sequence, a safe and familiar reassurance played out by his nervous fingers. He watches apprehensively as Hotch pulls the letter out of the envelope, unfolding it and skimming his eyes down the page, taking in the news Spencer’s been so anxious to share with him.

Diagnosis: Asperger’s Syndrome

God, it had been a long process. He’d had to seek out a doctor in DC who diagnosed adults, paid for all the consultations and diagnostics himself — his insurance certainly wouldn’t cover it, not that he’d feel comfortable using his cushy FBI insurance for something so personal anyway — and the whole process had taken far longer than he’d expected. Finally, though, the envelope had arrived in the mail, and he officially had a diagnosis.

Of course, he’d had his suspicions for years, especially after one of his professors during his second PhD had casually asked whether he’d ever been tested, planting a seed in his brain that led to many late nights in the library, reading all the literature available to him. It’s why he’d found it strange that it had felt so validating to finally receive that letter in the post. But it had.

The label made sense, and now that he had a diagnosis from a medical professional he felt comfortable to share it with others; he’d been far too paranoid about being questioned, not being believed or lectured about the evils of self-diagnosis no matter how he was confident in himself. He didn’t tend to be an insecure or self-conscious person, but after years of bullying and trauma surrounding what he now knew for sure to be his autistic traits, he couldn’t help but feel almost protective of his affirming label.

Now though, it’s an irrefutable statement. Dr Spencer Reid has autism, and the first person he wants to tell is Hotch.

“I had no idea you were getting tested, Reid,” Hotch says, a hint of surprise bleeding into his voice. “Is there any specific reason you wanted to share this with me?”

“Well… I felt like someone on the team should know,” Spencer starts carefully, afraid to give too much of himself away, “and I thought that someone in a leadership position was the best option. Gideon has never been very… supportive of my autistic traits or behaviour, so I thought that you— that you would be the best option.” He feels awkward, fidgeting in his chair as he watches Hotch’s serious face and kind eyes absorb the information.

“That trust in me means a lot, Reid,” he says, a rare smile making its way onto his face. In that moment, Spencer knows he made the right decision. “How can I make things easier for you? Is there anything you need me to be doing differently?”

“Uh—” He hadn’t really been anticipating that question and it catches him off guard: he’d predicted a quick nod of acknowledgement, a request to photocopy the letter so it can be put on file followed by a swift dismissal, but the letter is now sitting on his side of the desk: clearly, Hotch intends on keeping this between them. This is far from what he expected.

“Why don’t you start by telling me about autism and how it might affect your work?” Hotch corrects himself, recognising quickly Spencer’s need for specifics. “I’ll admit I don’t know much beyond some probably rather unhelpful stereotypes.”

Spencer nods. He can answer that question. “As everyone knows I often go off on tangents,” he begins, “and that’s because my special interests — or hyperfixations — often coincide with our work, so I know a lot about the topics we’re investigating. If I do that, just redirect me to the case and I’ll be fine. It’s also really hard for me to have to present myself in a certain way all the time. Vocal stims and gestures are the most satisfying to me but I often have to mask them, which I’ve never been very good at anyway, and it’s fairly exhausting. That’s why I often excuse myself; I go to the bathroom or a secluded hallway and stim on my own. My doctor also told me I tend to overcompensate in social situations and over-perform emotion. Those are the basics, I guess, but it’s a very complex disorder and since it makes up me as a human being, I can’t exactly explain all of it in one conversation.”

“No, that’s fine, Reid, you’ve given me a good picture of what to expect, thank you.” Hotch smiles at him, fondness in the crinkles around his eyes and the softness invading his usually stern expression. “First of all, you never have to feel like you need to excuse yourself to stim. Do you think it would be helpful if we told the rest of the team so they know what to expect? I’m assuming vocal stims are saying certain words or making sounds…?”

Spencer nods.

“Okay, so if you needed to do that we could just continue the conversation while you get it out of your system. Gestures certainly wouldn’t be a problem. How do you feel about that?”

He hadn’t really considered telling the rest of the team but it seemed sort of intimidating, like he’d be opening a vulnerable side of himself to people he didn’t even know that well. On the other hand, they’d all been so understanding of his quirks and odd behaviour so far without even knowing the reason behind it. He’d never once been made to feel the way he used to at school, forced to either pretend to be someone else completely or be isolated and ostracised.

He settles for, “I’ll think about it.”

“That’s fine. There’s no pressure,” Hotch assures him. “I’m very happy you told me, Reid. I hope you know you can come and talk to me about anything, whether it’s about this or something completely different.”

Spencer leaves his office with the letter back in his hands, no notes or copies having been made, feeling almost elated. Never in a million years would he have expected that to go so well.

⭐️

He doesn’t really expect it to come up again. He’d told Hotch so that he could understand him a bit better, and also because Hotch had quickly assumed a protective, almost paternal role in his life and he wanted to share the piece of news with him whether he was leading his department or not. That was supposed to be it, though, he didn't think anything would materially change, especially since he decided not to tell the team about the diagnosis just yet.

But almost immediately after he’d told Hotch his diagnosis, his rambles began to be gently redirected back to the case, sometimes without him even noticing. He wasn’t rudely cut off by anyone anymore, Hotch always steering him back on course before anyone else can jump in and hurt Spencer’s feelings. It’s so… kind that it almost feels foreign, and he finds himself gravitating towards the older man more and more, sitting next to him on every jet journey and staying glued to his side during cases.

His newfound protectiveness over Spencer is only demonstrated more clearly a few months after their conversation in Hotch’s office when they’re on their way to New Mexico for a case. The second he spots that the murder victims had all been found with different Fitzgerald quotes scrawled on sheets of paper found in their own personal notebooks, ripped out and left for investigating officers to find, he launches into an info-dump to rival info-dumps.

He can’t help that literature is a special interest of his, made all the more intense by the fond childhood memories of reading to his mother in her bed. Fitzgerald had been her favourite author of the Modern Era, and he’d spent hours analysing significant passages in his novels as a child, so he starts explaining the literary merit of each of the quotes left at the crime scenes.

Apparently, he doesn’t hear the first two times Hotch tries to direct him back on topic, but he hears it when Gideon shouts, “Spencer! Long and unnecessary tangents are not conducive to actually solving these cases. Get back on topic. Now.” He’s loud enough to briefly knock him back several decades to memories of his father screaming at his mother’s schizophrenic babbling, when she’d become convinced that the villains of her favourite novels were trying to break into the house.

Spencer stops mid-sentence and stares at Gideon, who is staring right back. Everyone’s watching the two awkwardly, but the short moment of silence is quickly broken by Hotch. “There is absolutely no need to be that rude, Jason,” he says disapprovingly, while he lays a hand on Spencer’s arm in a light, absent-minded sort of touch. “Reid may have been off-topic but he deserves respect just like everyone else on this team. Nobody needs to be shouted at like that.” He directs his attention back to Spencer. “Why don’t you tell us how those Fitzgerald quotes could help us solve the case, Reid?”

He gives him an encouraging look, and when he looks around the jet, everyone else is, too. Carefully, he starts speaking again, a little afraid of being cut off again, but after a few sentences of relevant explanation he regains his momentum. It’s more than a little vindicating when it’s his ‘unnecessary tangent’ that ends up being the key to cracking the case.

⭐️

Soon after Hotch’s split from Haley, he approaches Spencer one evening when they’re the only two left at the office with a dinner invitation. Within the hour, they walk into a nice, low-key Italian place in the city and take a seat in the far corner of the restaurant.

“Is everything okay?” Spencer asks a little uncertainly, confused as to why his boss is suddenly taking him for dinner.

“I had this idea almost as soon as you told me about your autism,” Hotch explains, knowing by now that preambles and niceties only frustrate Spencer instead of setting him at ease. “I wanted to take you out for dinner every week to try and give you a space to ramble about all your special interests and not feel like you have to mask around everyone. But when I was with Haley, all my personal time was obviously spent with her and Jack. Now, I have the time to dedicate to you and all the incredible knowledge you’re hoarding in that brain of yours.”

“Really?” Spencer asks excitedly. The idea of uninhibited space to talk about the recent knowledge he’s acquired and not have to feel insecure or worry about performing social skills he doesn’t see the point of is everything he’s ever wished for, and something so wonderful being provided by Hotch only makes it better.

“Really.”

Spencer wastes no time. He dives right in. “I was just watching a documentary the other day about volcanoes and their ability to trigger lightning storms with their voltage,” he begins. “Basically, magma rises toward the volcano’s surface, its water rapidly turns to vapor, which shatters the molten rock into tiny particles and creates charged particles. When the ash plume erupts into the atmosphere, the densely packed particles collide, driven by momentum. Friction then affects their electrons, becoming electrically charged. Positively and negatively charged electrons separate in the ash plume which creates a charge imbalance that builds an electric charge strong enough to trigger a lightning storm.”

“That’s incredible.”

“I know,” Spencer says excitedly. “If the ash plume rises high enough in the atmosphere ice forms, and when ice, hail, and supercooled liquid droplets collide, the rates of lightning explode, it’s crazy.”

They’re briefly interrupted by a waitress taking their orders, but as soon as she leaves, Hotch gets him to jump back in. “What about that lecture you attended last week… the literature of 18th Century England or something?”

“19th Century English Lit, yeah!” He’s so eager to finally share this with somebody who will genuinely listen to him, and he can’t help it when his arms start to flap excitedly. Remembering where he is, he doesn’t try to mask it, pin his arms to his sides and simply deal with and suppress the innate urge to stim, he lets his body do what it wants to. Instead of eliciting a strange, sideways look, Hotch just smiles fondly.

“The lecturer had this fascinating theory on Dickens. I’ve always seen him as a pretty straight forward author of picaresque fiction, obviously combined with facets of melodrama. And it’s common knowledge that he was inspired by the novel of sensibility, of course. But I’d never thought about the stylistic and lexical choices in his works beyond standard analysis, and this lecturer went on a deep dive into his use of collocation and it opened my eyes…”

He spends the whole evening stimming to his heart’s content while detailing every current interest of his to Hotch, who simply listened intently while eating his meal slowly, dragging out the meal for as long as Spencer needed. “Let me give you a lift home,” Hotch insists after footing the bill, leading him out into the warm evening air.

“Oh, I don’t mind taking the metro,” he replies truthfully.

“I know. But it would make me feel better to drop you home safely. It’s late and seeing you into your apartment building would give me peace of mind.”

“Sure,” Spencer agrees happily, he’s still buzzing from such a nice evening and the least he can do for Hotch is let him rest easy tonight, so he climbs into the passenger side of his car. A few minutes into the car ride home, he realises he should probably actually verbalise just how much he enjoyed dinner. “Thank you, Hotch. I don’t think anybody’s ever done something so nice for me before.”

“Don’t mention it, Spencer,” Hotch replies, smiling even though he doesn’t take his eyes off the road. Spencer very much likes it when Hotch uses his first name, and he’d been doing it all evening. He doesn’t really understand why it feels so nice, just that it makes him feel… special, maybe.

“Don’t mention it, Spencer,” he repeats, before freezing as he realises what he’s said. He’s got so used to not masking all evening, he’s not in the right rhythm and mindset to suppress the urge to repeat Hotch’s words. He’s been so nice the whole evening, the last thing Spencer wants is for Hotch to think he’s mocking him.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Hotch reassures him, tapping his arm lightly as he smiles encouragingly.

“Don’t mention it, Spencer,” he says again, repeating it a few times in relief before the itch is satisfied. He really does have the best boss/friend in the whole world. There’s no doubt about that.

⭐️

Rossi’s initial reaction to Spencer had admittedly been a bit rocky, and having Hotch undeniably on his side was the only thing that made those first few months bearable. He never let them go off on their own; never put Spencer in a position where he’d have to be alone with him. Gradually, though, Rossi adjusted to his quirks and he became almost as protective of Spencer as Hotch.

That doesn’t bode well for the local sheriff when they’re on a case in North Carolina. He’s been prickly since they arrived, being as stubborn and uncooperative as possible, slowing down their progress on actually solving the case, and Spencer’s noticed him being a little extra rude to him in particular. It doesn’t massively bother him — it’s not exactly like someone’s aversion to him is a novel concept — but he can feel some sort of tension coming from the others. It happens a lot more now that they know about his autism and are more aware of themselves and others.

He tries to ignore it the best he can; he puts his head down and focuses on the geographical profile, going wherever he’s sent. Besides, the sooner they solve this case the sooner they can get out of North Carolina and back to DC. On their third day on the case, he’s working quietly in their designated corner of the police department alongside Hotch and Rossi while the others are out investigating in various different places. It’s a nice environment, and even though both men are his superiors, he feels more relaxed in their company than in anybody else’s.

It’s a relatively pleasant morning — considering the whole trying to catch a brutal serial killer thing — until they need to ask the sheriff a question. He saunters over, a tense and angry expression on his face, and Spencer can’t help but feel a little off, the confusing tension in the air that Spencer can’t quite identify making him anxious in his inability to properly decipher it. “Gentlemen,” he says, already frustrated. Spencer suspects it’s a pride thing; not many police departments like being shown up enough to have the FBI called in.

Eager to know the answer to their question, Spencer’s the one to jump in and ask. “Sheriff, we were just wondering whether the town gets much traffic from the local university or—”

He’s cut off by the sneering, towering man. “I’m not taking any questions from your kind,” he says aggressively.

“I’m sorry?” Spencer squeaks as Rossi and Hotch both prepare to say something in response.

The sheriff cuts them off before they can get their likely diplomatic and calming words out. “Homo retards aren’t welcome around here.”

“Hey!” Rossi shouts as he leaps out of the chair, grabbing him by the collar as he’s helped by the element of surprise. “You don’t fucking talk to Spencer like that, you hear me? Weak, cowardly men like you—”

“Dave,” Hotch says placatingly, putting a hand on his shoulder and diffusing the situation. “Listen, Sheriff, we are only here to help you. But if you can’t respect my agents then we’re going to have a problem. Either you’re civil to Dr Reid, or I’m reporting you to the NC Sheriff’s Association. You hear me?”

The sheriff’s pride is clearly wounded, but he at least nods before giving them all a scornful look and walking away.

“We didn’t even get to ask the question,” Spencer says anxiously, suddenly feeling out of his depth, like he can’t quite get enough air.

“Dave, try and get an answer,” Hotch directs, taking charge of the situation. “Spencer, come with me.” He takes him into a secluded hallway for a little privacy, sitting him down on the cool linoleum before sinking down next to him. “You’re okay.”

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” Spencer whispers over and over to himself as he rocks backwards and forwards, trying desperately to self-soothe.

“Do you want me to touch you?” Hotch asks. He’s been in enough of these situations with Spencer to know he’s usually in two very different headspaces: he either longingly craves the grounding touch of a hug or a hand on his back, or he needs complete space. He’s also learned that asking outright is the only way to get an direct answer.

“Yes,” Spencer replies, before repeating it over and over again as he’s wrapped up in Hotch’s arms, head pressed against his chest, his hand pressing gently against the back of Spencer’s head. He starts to calm down as he manages to breathe to the heat of Hotch’s calm, steady heartbeat, the comforting touch of someone he trusts with his life also helping to bring him back down to earth. A good ten minutes after the altercation with the sheriff, he’s feeling much better and brings his head out of it’s safe cocoon between Hotch’s chest and hand.

“Come on,” Hotch says kindly. “Let’s get back to the case, yeah? You can just sit and work quietly until you’re ready to hold a proper conversation again. How does that sound?”

Spencer nods tiredly, knowing that work will perk him back up again, and being surrounded by his team will make him feel safe, asshole sheriff or not.

⭐️

Over the years Hotch helps him through any hurdles that come his way, learning the exact nuances of Spencer’s characteristics and requirements, making sure to accommodate him in every way possible.

He brings an extra, super-soft sweater in his go-bag in case Spencer ever forgets his and needs something gentle on his skin but tight enough to make him feel secure. He buys him stimming toys, dropping them on Spencer’s desk before he even arrives at work and lets him use his office whenever the lights and noise of the bullpen get too much, drawing the blinds and giving him the space he needs. Rossi doesn’t even question it anymore when Hotch shows up with a stack of paperwork and moves into his office for the morning.

It wasn’t until Hotch made a concerted effort to make his life easier that Spencer realised how hard it had been fighting through life on his own. So when he realises Hotch’s birthday is coming up, he decides he wants to show his gratitude. It’s never been easy for him to express emotions, especially since he’s never really found it rude when people don’t thank him, but he knows that for most neurotypical people, appreciation is important.

So he talks it over with Derek and on Hotch’s birthday, he comes into work to see Spencer waiting in his office with balloons, a cake, a card, and a present. He’d spent hours trying to find the right words to explain how he feels, to find the right words to show Hotch just how much everything he’s done for him means, but eventually he’d settled on something simple:

Caroline B Cooney wrote: “I found my family. I found the right thing to do. I found my way home.”

I found all of these things when I joined the BAU, but more specifically when I walked into your office, hands shaking, clasping a letter I’d been waiting for all my life. Thank you.

Hotch reads it with tears in his eyes before taking in the cake, a classic birthday cake Spencer had bought at the store, the words “Happy Birthday Dad” written in blue icing. He didn’t really understand why the cake had stood out to him, or why he associated the word ‘dad’ with someone who wasn’t related to him at all, but he’d trusted his gut and with Derek’s cheerleading, he’d bought it.

“Oh, Spencer,” Hotch says tearfully. “Can I hug you?”

Feeling only mildly uncomfortable at the visible display of emotion Spencer doesn’t know what to do with, he nods and steps into Hotch’s comforting embrace. “This means the world to me,” Hotch murmurs quietly as he stands, hugging Spencer for as long as the younger man can stand it.

Spencer’s still not completely sure why he’s managed to make him so emotional, but at least he can trust that it’s a good thing, that Hotch is happy and pleased and reassured. And if he can make him feel even a smidgen as happy as Hotch has made Spencer over the years, well. He’ll consider his long and boring trip into the city to buy the cake, present and card worth it.

Quick Note: Spencer is diagnosed with Asperger’s because that part of the fic is set in 2005. These days he would be diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD)

taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @strippersenseii

#criminal minds #criminal minds writing #criminal minds fic #spencer reid #aaron hotchner #hotch & spencer #spencer #hotch #my writing #autistic spencer reid #autistic spencer #dad hotch

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ravenkinnie · 2 years ago

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so… that coffee shop au but caitvi?

HDGDBDH caitlyn is a medical resident from one of those rich families where everyone is an established doctor (sorry for continuously making caitlyn a medic I will never stop), she feels the pressure of moving up in her job but she's not happy and it's draining. she has no time for relationships or even friendships so she's lonely, socially and sexually frustrated. she discovers she has a thing for bdsm while getting off to kinky r/gonewildaudio and slowly starts making her own audios and uploading them. she likes it and she's weirdly good at it and is like this feels like a really weird side hustle to be passionate about but god damn I'm insane and overzealous and if I'm gonna do anything I'll figure out how to be the baddest bitch at it. she eventually amasses a somewhat decent following but knows there's nothing she can do beyond creating these fantasies in audios because she's in a public trust profession so she'll always remain unfulfilled

cut to vi who works as a barista and is down on her luck because when being 24 and working in customer service are both things that scream down on your luck. but vi is exceptionally fucked (well not yet) because she just got out of prison and is trying to get a grip on her life. messy and brutal youth left her with trauma, half a high school diploma, and a lengthy record and now she works in the coffee shop during the day and in vanders bar at night because at this rate she will never move out of her childhood bedroom. so what do you do when you have trauma to process and also feel too much pressure to keep in control in life? you get really into bottoming, obviously, but it's not like vi has the time or the trust in people to actually meet anyone. thank fuck for internet porn, especially this one specific girl who's really good at soft domming and not so soft domming and has a really nice voice and vi might or might not have a weird parasocial crush on that voice

one day caitlyn switches routes to the hospital for some reason and stops by vis coffe shop instead of her regular one. the moment she opens her mouth to order vi is like hold up I know this voice and then is like cometomommy28 in MY coffee shop?? clearly more likely than you think!! she keeps her cool and caitlyn leaves and she's like FUN I'll never have to go through this shame again

but caitlyn keeps coming back and it doesn't become more normal at all, especially since she still regularly posts. vi is like I need to do something about these homoerotic feelings because it's not normal to have your pussy throbbing over caffe misto. but like. caitlyn is SO different than her sw persona it wouldn't even be clicking in vis mind if it wasn't for her voice, sometimes she doubts it even IS her but she also got off to that accent so many times there's no way she would mistake her for anyone else. but there's no way she can casually chat up bad mood-scrubs-terror of old gods in her sleep deprived eyes caitlyn and not have it be a tragedy so she needs to do something she's never done before in her life: think before acting

she does the next best thing and messages caitlyn on reddit - and it's awkward and weird at first and she doesnt even think caitlyn would reply because when you're a woman doing online sw you get A LOT of messages. but caitlyn does and over time they actually have proper conversations and struck up some form of online sexually charged friendship. vi even starts chatting up caitlyn in the cafe and it doesn't go as smooth but it doesn't blow up. lots of dilemma and lots of tension and finally vi decides to tell caitlyn who she is and how she knows her so she awkwardly asks her out

at this point caitlyns walls have been broken down enough that she actually accepts and the moment they are alone vi comes clean. it's WEIRD and it's uncomfortable at first because well, caitlyn never actually met a person irl who would know this side of her but also it's actually nice to have someone see the parts you've hidden for so long?? and to hear that they relate and share same feelings??

blahblahblah shenanigans happen, they start exploring world of bdsm together, falling in love as they discover each other and themselves. they become comfortable enough that they are like hey maybe let's try like. idk an underground club or sth but like one of those nice ones where people put on performances and shit. so they do, they go to one, and they are having a normal one UNTIL caitlyn bumps into mel

(you ask yourself why tf is mel here. because she's hot and she's not in enough fanworks that's why)

mel was the one who supervised caitlyn when she first started but then she quit and disappeared from medical world and caitlyn never actually knew what she went on to do instead. lo and behold, mel actually has been in a scene for a while and actually became a performer - which caitlyn didn't even realise was an option. they fall easily into this mentorship and friendship and mel shows caitlyn the ropes, literally and figuratively, and we get our horny caitlyn/mel/vi threesome agenda in an already horny story hell yeah

can you tell where this storyline is going. partners in life, bed, and on stage babey

#asks #caitvi #can you tell I reread sunstone recently

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kirksfattitties · 4 years ago

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asks you can smell the privilege and internalized ableism radiate from

(tw for ableism and other bigoted implications)

i’m bad at reading tone but even i understand that this is 100% you being condescending and trying to cover it up with smiley faces and false sincerity. and i don’t appreciate that.

before i get into deconstructing your shitty ableist argument, i want to explain the reasons i believe in self diagnosis (self-dx):

even professional diagnosis doesn’t start with a doctor diagnosing you. there has to be a reason for seeing the doctor. some people see a doctor in their adult life because they’re struggling, some people are taken by their parents, some people are referred or suggested that they see a specialist. whatever it is, you don’t just see a doctor and they magically give you a neurodivergency. people have neurodivergencies before they see doctors and even if they NEVER see a doctor.

the psychiatry system is flawed in MANY ways and to say that it isn’t means you’re denying the experiences of people with less privledge than yourself. also like psychiatry isn’t gonna suck your dick. you don’t have to be a bootlicker lol

in many places (hi hello i’m from america where our government tries to indirectly kill us by not providing us with adequate healthcare! i and many other people have many issues we can’t get fixed because simply our government cares more about the economy than us), seeing a psychiatrist or a therapist or going to a mental hospital or WHATEVER is INCREDIBLY expensive. and to assume that everyone has access and enough time/money/energy/transportation/whatever to do all of that is classist and elitist.

ANYTHING medical (including mental health) is biased towards white cis men. most studies are done on white cis men/boys. because of this, people who aren’t white cis men (or people who aren’t perceived as white cis men) are often not diagnosed. the system is racist. the system is sexist. the system is transphobic. people don’t know how to diagnose autism or adhd or personality disorders or other neurodivergencies or even mental illnesses in black people and other people of color, in women, in trans people, etc. and GOD FORBID someone be in multiple (or all) of those categories. saying “just go get diagnosed :)” is a privileged statement to make.

shocker! the psychiatry system is also ableist. if you’re already diasabled (whether it be mental or physical) and you see a doctor about ANOTHER disability? the doctor is most likely going to shoot you down. or at least be weary about someone having mutliple disabilities.

also most people who diagnose are neurotypical. they have never and will probably never experience neurodivergency so they can never fully understand it. they operate off of stereotypes of neurodivergent people and usually only stereotypical behavior of neurodivergent white cis men (which, as i mentioned before, is problematic for anyone who isn’t a white cis man). neurotypical diagnosers don’t know the neurodivergent culture and aren’t trained to recognize very common things (like masking for example).

a professional diagnosis can also be weaponized. not everyone can get a professional diagnosis because there are some neurodivergencies (such as autism and personality disorders) and mental illnesses (like depression) that can have legal and medical respercussions to have in your record. trans people can be denied medical and legal transition for being professionally diagnosed. people can lose custody battles for being professionally diagnosed. a professional diagnosis can be used as justification for taking away someone’s body autonomy (especially if that person is also physically disabled).

a LOT of neurodivergencies also have some type of symptom (or symptoms) that make it difficult to interact with people. troubles recognizing facial expressions, troubles understanding certain phrases and types of speech, paranoid about people, audio processing issues, being nonverbal in an environment that doesn’t accommodate for it, overstimulation, extreme social anxiety, discomfort in new situations, problems with eye contact, and a lot more. because like. for many nd people, interacting with people is very difficult and stressful. and hey. if you want to get a professional diagnosis? take a WILD guess what you have to do? FUCKING INTERACT with people! LIKE?? JEHDJJDKEKKDKDKDS. do you know how many professionally diagnosed nd people i know who made their appointment COMPLETELY on their own without help from a parent or family member or friend? LITERALLY ZERO! and i know A FEW nd people who have professional diagnoses! so if someone has social issues that prevent them from doing tasks like calling and making an appointment, showing up for an appointment, talking during the appointment, etc and ALSO doesn’t have familial or friend support (because newsflash! people who are friends/family of disabled people can still be ableist)? almost impossible to get a diagnosis! plus, the diagnosis process is TIME CONSUMING. not everyone can focus on a task for that long and not everyone can miss work/school for that long.

so those are the reasons i support self-dx. (although there’s probably more that i’m forgetting but i have adhd and it’s hard for me to remember things!)

so hopefully you now understand my reasons for believing in self-dx, and perhaps even you’re pro-self-dx now because before you were just uneducated on these issues and how they impact people who aren’t you.

but in case you’re still anti-self-dx and probably hate already-marginalized neurodivergent people, let’s talk about this horrendous ask (series of asks, actually) that i got sent. i feel like i can feel the self hatred and internalized ableism OOZING from this ask and into my inbox, so thanks for that i guess /s

“Sometimes people who self diagnose can take away from those who are actually nd, even sometimes from themselves.”

starting out strong with the ableism on this one by separating people into “self diagnosed” and “actually nd” people. self diagnosed people ARE actually nd

there’s not a limited number of nd resources. this isn’t a math equation of only x amount of people can be nd because there’s only y amount of resources. more people realizing they’re nd will actually MAKE more resources for nd people and will bring more awareness to being nd

even IF someone self diagnosed, and they go back on it later, what harm was done? they learned some coping mechanisms? they made some nd friends? neither of those are problematic and i think they’re both actually very helpful. i think nt people SHOULD learn more about nd people and stuff because i think that will lead to WAYYY less misunderstandings and WAYYYY less ableism

“There are many people who fake nds for attention,”

hey anon, what fucking world do you live in that nd’s are cool enough to fake having? because i would LOVE to live there. like, i literally had a post about my personality disorder (which i will not be specifying) i had to delete because people were sending my anons about how i was “scary” and “threatening” now that they knew i had the personality disorder i have. last year i left a discord server because the ableism i was recieving from not only the members of the server, but the mods as well. there are very few people i know irl who i tell about my personality disorder, but when i tell people about my adhd, they start treating me different. they infantalize me and make fun of me and use “jokes” about stereotypical adhd behaviors to alienate me and they even TELL OTHER PEOPLE without my permission. i was SEVERELY bullied throughout elementary and middle school for being nd. i have been refused job and educational opportunities as well as literal medical attention for being nd. people aren’t “faking” being nd, and if they were they probably wouldn’t be doing it for long because it’s not something that’s EASY to deal with.

kinda ironic that you’re saying people can’t diagnose themselves but that YOU can tell when someone is faking their diagnosis. that’s both hypocritical and a double standard.

masking exists. if you think someone isn’t “acting nd enough” they’re probably masking because they’ve been fucking bullied and harrassed. also you’re probably basing whatever you think nd is on stereotypes. not every nd person is sheldon cooper lol.

this is a side note but can we talk about how you’re literally just taking transmed rhetoric and molding it to fit nd people? like. you really come onto MY NONBINARY NEURODIVERGENT blog and expect me to validate your recycled “but what about the REAL [insert group] people?” ??? like grow up, elitist. you’re not better than anyone else just because you lick some boots 🥾 👅

“and claiming that self diagnosis (and this is just what I interpreted) is just as valid as professional diagnosis”

it is 😌

the only difference between self diagnosis and professional diagnosis is that a professional diagnosis can also get you medicine. not every neurodivergency needs meds and not every neurodivergency can be treated (at this time or even ever). for example, my pd (self diagnosed) doesn’t have a specific treatment but multiple symptoms of the pd (all professionally diagnosed) have specific treatments and medicines that work, so patients are given/diagnosed with/prescribed those instead. also, medicine doesn’t work for everyone! and sometimes people are allergic to or take medicines that will conflict with any new medicine.

“can really devalue the account of someone who actually has a disorder”

here we go again with that “self diagnosed” vs “actually nd” bullshit. literally just say you hate poor people n minorities and leave lol

someone having a different experience than you isn’t devaluing you, but if you’re the one who always has the spotlight maybe you should use your privledge uplift other marginalized people instead of feeling angry when everything isn’t all about you 100% of the time

“I have a second ask”

i don’t want it

“Plus it can be damaging for a person if they self diagnose wrong.”

how? what if they learn information that they wouldn’t’ve otherwise known like coping mechanisms that help them with their own neurodivergencies? that’s definitely not a bad thing

i think it’s funny that you bring up that people can self diagnose wrong and don’t even MENTION that doctors can diagnose wrong. like. you know. the people who GIVE OUT MEDICINE to people. i think it’s MUCH more dangerous when a PROFESSIONAL diagnosis is wrong. what are self-dx people with wrong diagnoses gonna do? read up on nd tips? maybe smoke some weed? drink some coffee? that’s about all they can do with a self-dx. but if a MEDICAL PROFESSIONAL gives you an INCORRECT diagnosis, they can ACTUALLY fuck you up.

“I was recently diagnosed with PTSD, a disorder which I would have never considered I’d have.”

that’s great about your professional diagnosis! i don’t know you but i’m glad you’re finding out about yourself and getting the help you want and/or need /srs

sorry if this sounds blunt, but honestly i’m not surprised you never considered you could have PTSD. based on your asks, you sound like you have a lot of internalized ableism you need to work through and a lot more research about neurodiversity you need to do. being anti-self diagnosis is a common belief among a lot of people with internalized ableism and a lot of these same people are the ones who have no issue with and even SUPPORT auti$m $peaks. many nd organizations that are run BY nd people (like asan) actually support self-dx.

“If I had of diagnosed my own symptoms and then started treating myself or taking precautions based on my self diagnosed "condition", it could of really hurt me.”

how? taking precautions to preserve your mental health is NEVER a bad idea. i’m not ptsd, but someone i care deeply about DOES have ptsd and has shared a lot of the precautions and coping mechanisms for ptsd with me and honestly they’ve been incredibly helpful. it’s almost as if different neurodivergencies and/or mental illnesses have overlap and that’s why there’s a whole community for us to be able to share these resources and information with each other!

the same person was rejected a formal autism diagnosis because of their ptsd, plus the fact that they’re transgender and the fact they have symptoms of adhd. it’s not really my place to talk about their experience with professional diagnosis, but i’ll send this post to them and allow them to add on their experience in a rb if they’re comfortable with that. but it’s almost as if their experience with the professional diagnosis process was unhelpful, harmful, ableist, and transphobic 🧐 and unfortunately this is a pretty common experience

“Also, by self diagnosing, I devalue the account of a person with the disorder l assumed I had.”

how? if someone thinks they’re nd, they have a legitimate reason for thinking so. either they have another neurodivergency than the one they thought they had, or they’re neurotypical and need to figure themself out and have a need for support. either way, they learned more about the specific neurodivergency, more about the nd community, and more about themself. i don’t see how that’s a bad thing.

if you think self-diagnosed people’s experiences inherently have less value, that is straight up ableism. especially considering that other marginalized identities and minorities have trouble getting professional diagnoses, you might also be bigoted in some other way. or at the very least, refusing to acknowledge your privilege.

“only one more I promise”

i don’t want it

“I understand that doctors are expensive and professionals can get it wrong,”

okay. if you understand this, then dm me your information so i can bill you for the cost of my professional diagnoses, the cost for my therapy sessions, the cost for my medicine, and the cost for transportation to and from all these places. PLUS the cost of the work and school i’ll be missing for these sessions. 🤲

“but self diagnosis can be really harmful to yourself or others.”

nah, you’re just ableist and a gatekeeper lol

“If you feel like you have a disorder, go see a psychiatrist, you may have it.”

[remembers when i went to a psychiatrist who diagnosed me with two major symptoms of a personality disorder and said i had other symptoms of the pd as well but refused to diagnose me with the actual personality disorder because i was a minor at the time and he told me “kids don’t have personalities so they can’t have personality disorders”. i understand being weary about diagnosing children with personality disorders because they aren’t fully developed but this dude straight up told me that i didn’t have a personality. this man literally only worked with children so that means he literally never diagnosed personality disorders. this man was literally just lazy and didn’t care about his patients. this man also refused to believe me when i told him the medicine he prescribed me made my symptoms worse and even made me hallucinate. he ignored me and refused to change my medicine so eventually i just changed psychiatrists and they put me on a new medicine that DIDNT make my symptoms worse and DIDNT make me hallucinate. also i looked it up after our session and apparently ONLY people with my pd and related ones experience hallucinations on that certain medication. it’s almost like his refusal to diagnose me and ignoring my symptoms/concerns harmed me. this man also constantly misgendered me and told me that homosexuality and transgenderism should’ve still been in the dsm. like golly, it’s almost as if being queer and neurodivergent in an extremely conservative state is harmful and dangerous. and that psychiatrists aren’t immune from being homophobic and transphobic and ableist.] but yes :) perhaps i should see another psychiatrist in this conservative state :)

“I don't want to undermine anyone's actual experiences, but it can be dangerous.”

then stop undermining people’s actual experiences :)

no ❤️

“If you feel like something's wrong, go see a professional.”

the whole point of the neurodiversity movement is that there IS no such thing as a “normal” brain, so saying that neurodivergent people have something “wrong” with them is ableist.

💰 🤲 hand it over

“I don't want to offend, I just don't want anyone to get mislead or hurt. :)”

you absolutely meant to offend. you literally said that self-diagnosed people’s experiences aren’t valid and have less value than people who have professional diagnoses

i know more people who have been (and personally have been) mislead and hurt by professionals than by simply existing as a self-diagnosed person

also i want to say that being pro-self dx is NOT being anti-professional/formal diagnosis. i think that people should absolutely get a professional diagnosis (if they are able to without negative repercussions)! being pro-self dx is more inclusive of marginalized people (like people of color, women, lgbtq+ people, people with multiple disabilities, etc). pro-self dx is simply just saying that professional diagnosis isn’t the only option

(neurotypical people and anti-self dx people don’t add anything; pro-self dx neurodivergent people are allowed to add with their experiences if they want)

#asks #long post #nd adventures #ableism tw #sexism tw #racism tw #transphobia tw #misgendering mention #medical abuse mention #not star trek #homophobia tw

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allcrncthing · 4 years ago

Photo

TITLE :: WHAT?

DESCRIPTION :: Flynn gets an unlikely visitor early one morning.

TIME PERIOD :: July, 2012

CHARACTER(S) :: Flynn Aspen, Nick Fury

WORD COUNT :: 1.7k

WARNINGS :: Swearing

NOTE :: This is part one of two in the DON’T RUIN HER mini-series!

It was seven in the morning when knuckles thumped against her apartment door. Flynn shuffled out of her room, rubbing her eyes as she went. God, I hope it’s not Mrs. Baust complaining again. Mrs. Baust was Flynn’s elderly neighbor located on her right. For whatever reason, she didn’t like the redhead; always complaining about stupid shit and trying to her the landlord to kick Flynn out.

She opened the door then nearly slammed it shut. Standing before her was Nick Fury, director of SHIELD. “Can I help you?”

With his one good eye, he looked her up and down. “You know why I’m here. Get important shit and meet me on the roof.”

“Mister, you must be confused.”

Fury scoffed. “Me? Confused? Hurry up and grab your shit, I’ll see you on the roof.” He closed the door for her, leaving a dumbfounded Flynn in his wake.

She pressed her forehead against the cool wood of the door. “How the hell did he find out?” She groaned, agitated. “Christ Flynn, he’s Nick Fury, he always finds out.”

Around three months ago Flynn found out she had powers. She gained them after a chunk of alien tech fell from the sky. Crazy, right? The tech--which was a good sized piece of metal if she was being honest--slammed into the back of her neck, embedding itself in her skin. Flynn could still feel it back there, sometimes rubbing her finger over the weird bump when she was nervous or bored. It must have been from a far-off society that thrived off radiation or something, because these new powers were seemingly radiation based. It was all still very new to Flynn, so she wasn’t 100% sure of anything regarding her abilities.

She trudged back to her room, shrugged off her lavender old lady nightgown, and stepped into bleach-stained grey sweatpants and an oversized I HEART NYC shirt. It was left over from her parents’ visit a while back. Hey, she wasn’t going to get all dolled up for a stranger who told her to “pack up her shit” at seven something in the morning.

Flynn grabbed a duffle bag and filled it with the basics; toiletries, a few pairs of clothes, and chargers for her devices. She hopped whatever Fury wanted with her was quick and easy. Trying to explain her disappearance at work would be a bitch.

Minutes later she appeared on the rooftop, seeing Fury standing off at the ledge, looking off into the distance. “Seen Fallen Soldier recently?”

Her blood ran cold.

Flynn licked her lips, “No.”

“Not after your skirmish in the alley?” He pressed, turning to face her.

Flynn shook her head.

Fallen Soldier was one of HYDRA’s goons. He was a fallen World War I soldier by the name of Dennis Van Dyke. According to what Flynn had read--which may or may not have been on the dark web. . .--HYDRA recently reanimated his once frozen corpse to snuff out anyone with powers. His supposed mission was to kill his target before dragging their body to a local HYDRA lab for testing.

It just so happened that he went after Flynn. Three nights ago while walking home from her shift at work, the corpse struck. He came at her with stinking, peeling flesh and the sharpest bayonet she had ever seen. While he moved at a slow pace, every time he made contact with Flynn she would get knocked over by his force. The fight was her first real power test-run. Flynn discovered she could fly and somehow create fireballs among other things. Going against Fallen Soldier was tiring. So much so she lit him on fire then proceeded to pass out on a nearby rooftop. Flynn was lucky he didn’t find her and kill her in her sleep.

Fury turned back around, facing the sun once more. From his coat pocket he drew a remote. In the sea of buttons he pressed a white one off to the left.

Hundreds of feet in the air floated the SHIELD Helicarrier. Flynn had never seen the beast of an air ship in person before. She only saw pictures of it from the battle in New York.

“Wow,” she breathed, nearly dropping the duffle bag.

“Welcome to your new home.” Fury said, watching as a ramp came down from the helicarrier’s underbelly.

Her brows immediately furred together. “My what?”

“New home! Can’t let you stay down here with that undead bastard looking high-and-low for you.”

Fury walked towards the ramp, taking quick strides. “Hurry up so we can get started on paperwork.”

She scampered after him like a puppy. “Why?”

“You’re just full of questions.”

“Oh no, how dare I question the man who told me to pack up my stuff and follow him.” Flynn groaned.

A look flashed over his face, like she did have a point. “I watched your fight with Fallen Soldier and I liked what I saw. Had to get to you before HYDRA.” Fury pressed another button, opening a door on the carrier’s side.

“Is this a temporary thing?”

“Temporary?” He howled. “Does Tony Stark shop at Walmart?”

“No. . .”

“Well, you have your answer.”

The inside of the helicarrier was bustling with life. Scientists in crisp white lab coats drifted around while armed security members marched from corridor to corridor, looking for any threats. Standing in the middle of that mess was Maria Hill.

The brunette had her arms crossed, eyes focused on Flynn. “How the hell did you get her onboard so quickly?”

Fury chuckled, “I have my ways, Hill.”

Maria rolled her eyes. “Welcome aboard, Aspen.” She held out a hand for a quick shake. “Come with me and I’ll take you for testing. It’s just to make sure your physical health is decent. If not, we have world-class doctors on board.”

“Don’t forget about that paperwork,” hollered Fury, walking away from the two women.

The ladies made eye contact. “The paperwork isn’t much, don’t worry. Most of it’s just new stuff the council requires.” Maria explained, easing Flynn’s mind just a little.

They walked down the hall, heading towards the lab wing.

Walking through the helicarrier was just mind boggling. Each part of the air ship held a certain meaning, and all of them served it well. She passed by a holding cell of lower-level, petty villains sitting inside. Many of which were whining about calling their lawyers. Another section was dedicated to the testing out of weapons. A tall ginger dressed in precautionary armor threw a small, onyx colored orb at a rubber dummy (akin to the ones found in dojos). Upon making contact with the dummy, the circle exploded, wrapping it in two thin but sturdy pieces of white rope. The tester let out an impressed noise and went to scribble something down on the clipboard next to her.

Now, they were in the lab wing. Each scientist aboard the helicarrier had their own designated lab, Maria explained. The one they were heading to belonged to their lead medical examiner, the one they sent all of the new recruits to, Doctor Sierra Warner.

Dr. Warner was a tall black woman with thick dreads dyed light brown almost blonde, pulled into a ponytail atop her head. She greeted the two with a smile, motioning for Flynn to take a seat on the examination table. “Welcome,” she said, voice as sweet as her smile.

“Thank you,” Flynn replied as she hopped onto the table.

“Fury’s newest recruit?” She inquired, eye flitting between Maria and Flynn.

Maria nodded, “Yup.”

The following minutes were taken up by basic tests; ones where Dr. Warner would check Flynn’s reflexes and her eyesight. Pretty standard stuff. Then she kind of went off track. “Fury showed me footage of your. . .fight with David Van Dyke--”

Flynn’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. He has footage of that? “How the hell did he get footage of that?”

Dr. Warner chuckled, “SHIELD has cameras all over New York.”

“God, you guys are like big brother.”

“I like to think we have flashier stuff here,” said Warner. “But as I was saying, Fury showed me your video and I thought it would be smart to use a dosimeter on you; just to check your radiation levels.”

“But why?”

The doctor shrugged, “I just have this gut feeling. Here at SHIELD we developed our own version. Instead of having you hold it, you’ll breathe into it like a breathalyzer. The results come back much faster and more accurately. For whatever reason.” Dr. Warner reached into a desk, and pulled out the SHIELD dosimeter, which did look a lot like a breathalyzer. “You can tell that I didn’t help in the development of this.”

“Who did?” Flynn inquired, grabbing the dosimeter. She brought the tube to her lips, sending a steady stream of air into the piece of tech.

“Dr. Celeste Flores-Rivero.” Warner replied, pulling the dosimeter from her mouth after it beeped, allowing her to know it was done processing the sample it had received. “Before she dropped off the map,” she muttered, observing the data displayed on the dosimeter’s digital screen.

“I’ll tell you later,” Maria whispered, giving Flynn’s shoulder a pat.

Dr. Warner chewed on her bottom lip, eyes flitting from Flynn to the dosimeter. “Flynn, I’ve never seen numbers like this before.” She rubbed at her chin, face full of uncertainty. “You’re as radioactive as Chernobyl. Hell, I didn’t even know that was possible.”

“Me?” She pressed the tip of her finger right in the middle of her chest. “Me? Flynn Aspen me?”

She nodded, “Yes.”

Flynn’s fingers went right to the back of her neck, feeling the foreign object just below her skin. “What will happen then?” God, I should’ve just stayed in my fucking room.

Dr. Warner wheeled her chair over to Flynn, resting two gloved hands on her knee caps. “We’ll figure something out. We’ve dealt with the Hulk, we can deal with some radiation. For the moment we’ll keep doing tests and then figure out what our next steps are. Some of the most brilliant minds are here, we’ll find a way to help you cope.”

She let out a heavy sigh, deflating a little bit. “Okay, yeah, that’ll work.”

#marvel oc #marvel original character #marvel #marvel x you #marvel x reader #marvel x oc #avengers original character #avengers x reader #avengers #avengers x you #avengers oc #avengers x oc #nick fury #maria hill #mcu #original characters #*/ ✧ development ✧ */ ✧ flynn aspen ✧

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cafedanslanuit · 4 years ago

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↪ commissioned work! this was a request by @joy1579. for more info about my commissions, check my blog ♡

summary: when mc gets into a car accident, jumin ends up with her medical records. he never thought he would find out about what happened to his wife six years ago.

pairing: jumin x mc

warnings: mentions of suicide

words: 2.7k

“Mr. Han”

Jumin turned his head to his secretary, his right eyebrow arched in annoyance. He knew it was uncalled for, but it had been a really stressful morning for him. He was in the middle of his third and longest meeting and it didn’t seem like he would be getting any results n that day, no matter how different proposals he brought to the table. Knowing beforehand how difficult this particular client used to get, he had asked Jaehee not to interrupt him under any circumstances. And that was the first thing she had done. Jumin massaged his right temple with his fingers, his gaze hardening under Jaehee’s concerned expression.

“Assistant Kang, I’m in the middle of a meeting.”

“It’s MC,” she quickly said. “She’s been in an accident.”

Hours later, Jumin couldn't remember if he apologized to his client or if Jaehee had to do it for him. He just knew a couple of seconds later, he was riding the elevator to the main floor, his assistant by his side, her face much paler than usual.

“You weren’t picking up and apparently she set Zen as her other emergency number. He’s on his way to the hospital but called me to let us know.”

“How bad is it?”

“They didn’t tell him specifics but it seems a car hit her while crossing the street."

Jumin wasn't surprised when he realized Driver Kim was already waiting for him when he arrived at the main floor. Jaehee was definitely diligent and was used to thinking ahead in any situation. He muttered a 'thank you' and got in the car in a hurry, closing the door a little louder than usual.

He fixed his tie as Driver Kim hit the engine. He stayed silent the whole journey, his mind fixed on the memory of her wife's eyes as she wished him a good day that morning.

The messenger had been blowing up after Zen had announced MC's accident. Jaehee and Saeyoung were trying to calm down Yoosung, promising him they would inform him about MC's status as soon as they heard something.

"Could you stop?" Jumin muttered, looking at Zen's shaky leg. The actor shot back a glare at him, his leg still moving.

"I'm worried, okay? It's been more than forty minutes since we got here and she's still in the Emergency Room. We still don't know how bad it was."

"I know. But you shaking this bench with your leg isn't helping."

"Oh, I'm sorry Mr. Trust-Fund Kid, what have you been doing to help this situation other than looking at your phone?"

"I've made arrangements for MC to be sent to one of C&R's partners’ clinics as soon as she's out of the ER," he replied, looking back at his phone.

"Why am I not surprised this is about money?" Zen snickered. Before Jumin could reply, they both shot up their heads at the doctor calling out MC's name.

"I'm her husband," Jumin said and just at that moment, Zen noticed how his eyes were a little wider than usual. It seemed not even Jumin could maintain a cool head under the situation, even if he pretended to do so. "How is she?"

"Your wife was hit by a car. She has two broken ribs and a concussion. No internal organs were compromised, but she needs to stay overnight for observation."

"I've made arrangements for her to be sent to a private clinic. The ambulance is awaiting orders, when will they be able to take her?"

"In that case, please go to our information module and they will help you," the doctor said. Without wasting another moment, Jumin started walking to the said module, faintly hearing Zen thanking the doctor before following him.

He ignored the actor's rant about him being impolite to the doctor as he signed over several paperwork for MC's transfer. After huffing at him for the third time, Zen told him he would be heading to the clinic before him, as he rode his motorcycle to the hospital. Jumin nodded as he kept writing his name in almost every form, his hand in pain from the tension he was under.

He was about to sign the last one when he noticed the words "mental health", "psychiatry" and other things that weren't related to the accident.

"What's this about?" he asked. The lady behind the desk took a quick look at the paper before going back to her computer.

"Due to the nature of the accident and her past medical record, you have to sign this. It just says you will be responsible for her mental health as she will leave our facilities without staying at the psychiatric ward,” she said in a monotone voice.

"What does her accident have to do with mental health?"

"Your wife’s records show she was admitted here six years ago for a suicide attempt, so it's policy to keep a watch on her after accidents that could potentially be something else," she explained, without taking her eyes off her screen.

Jumin blinked, trying to process what he had just heard. His pen shook in his hand as his mind raced with different thoughts, the threads becoming more and more knotted the more he tried to make sense of it. Without another word, he signed the last paper and handed it back to the woman, turning in his heel to go to the ambulance.

He didn't remember when they got MC on the ambulance or if they asked him anything before driving to the clinic. Sitting on the passenger's seat of the vehicle, his eyes were focused on an idle point in front of him, the words of the woman playing on loop inside his head.

One week later, MC was discharged from the clinic without major complications. Jumin had been by her side as much as he could, going to the extent of hiring a nurse for when he had to go to work. She had refused at first, but after Jumin’s insistence, she reluctantly accepted. They had told her it would take from six to eight weeks to recover, so she guessed she could make an effort to make her husband feel safe.

Almost one month after MC’s accident had passed, and still, thoughts about her medical records ran across Jumin’s head every minute of every day. He felt a lump of his throat every time his mind considered the possibility her latest accident may have been an attempt to end her life. Was she unhappy? Did she want something he couldn’t provide? Was there anything he could do to spare her from her pain?

He knew he wasn't supposed to have that information. Her medical records were private and if it weren't for the car accident, he wouldn't have been able to know otherwise. To be honest, he was still doubtful the woman behind the information desk should have given him that kind of information. He was sure it was supposed to be against the law. He huffed. He knew public hospitals were definitely not the best, but he never anticipated a breach of information. Medical records were supposed to be private. He should have never had access to that kind of information. Without the lack of professionalism from the medical staff, there couldn’t have been any other way for him to get the information. The only other way he could have known was for someone to hack--

Saeyoung.

Jumin had never taken out his phone as fast as he did in that moment. Entering the messenger, he found Saeyoung’s picture and hit the call button.

“Hello~ Is this by any chance my dear Elly?” Saeyoung greeted him.

"Did you know?"

"I know a lot of things, for I am God Seven!" he chuckled.

"Did you know MC had tried to kill herself six years ago?"

The immediate silence on the other side of the line only confirmed his initial suspicion. Jumin heard a sigh from the hacker, along with some movement that let him know Saeyoung was changing rooms to talk privately.

"Yes, I knew," Saeyoung said, his voice with no remnants of the teasing tone he had just used. "Did she tell you?"

"The hospital wanted to keep her in the psychiatric ward before I sent her to the clinic. They didn't believe it was an accident".

"Oh, but it was!" Saeyoung assured him. "Remember they caught the guy a week later? I was the one that sent the videos to the police so they could identify him. Well, Zen sent them, but I gave him the tapes from the surveillance cameras that caught the accident and posterior escape."

"You are… sure it was an accident?" Jumin muttered, sitting down on the sofa.

"Jumin," Saeyoung said. "I would never lie about something like that".

The call was cut short after that, Saeyoung wishing MC a quick recovery and cracking a joke before saying goodbye. Not even a full minute after the call had ended, he saw MC coming from their bedroom, slow steps as she made her way to the kitchen.

“My love, you should be resting,” Jumin said as he stood up and joined her, his arm trying to steady her healing body. “If you need anything you can just call for me.”

MC shook her head. “It’s okay, I have to start with small steps, right?” she said, but let Jumin guide her to the kitchen table and took a seat. “But if you could brew some tea for me, that’d be great,” she smiled. Jumin nodded and started filling the kettle with some water.

If the accident had been just that-- an accident, then it was the right call not to tell the clinic about her medical records. Even if he was glad she hadn’t tried to take her own life this time, it didn’t erase the fact there had been an actual attempt a few years ago. What had made her take that choice? Had she regretted it? Would she ever consider it again if she didn’t find herself happy by his side?

“Are you okay?”

The voice of his wife brought him back to reality and saw the kettle had overflowed long ago, water still coming from the faucet. He closed the tap and nodded, pouring the excess of water on the sink.

“Are you sure?” she insisted. “You can talk to me about anything, you know.”

Jumin turned around and looked at her wife’s concerned face, his walls breaking down almost instantly at her doe eyes and small pout. He took a deep breath, knowing it would probably be the hardest conversation he would have with his wife.

“I saw your medical records,” Jumin confessed. It pained his heart to see her expression change to a fearful one, her eyes leaving his own as she seemed to search for something on the floor. MC began fidgeting with her hands, rubbing them together hastily.

Jumin let out a long sigh and sat next to her. There was nothing he wanted more but to take her in her arms, never wanting to see her afraid again, but he didn’t want to hurt her. He knew her ribs were still healing. Instead, he took her hands in his and squeezed them gently, trying to calm her down.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” he said, his thumb stroking the back of his wife’s hand. “I just… I don’t understand. I want to know why.”

“Does it matter why?” MC quickly answered, her eyes still not meeting his.

“It does to me. I never felt more afraid than the day Assistant Kang informed me you had been in an accident. The sole idea of losing you is a nightmare I never want to go through. I wish I could understand why you took that decision so I make sure you never feel that same way again.”

A faint of a smile appeared on MC’s lips.

“Jumin… I-- I was in a very bad place. And I got help. I went to therapy and I… I’m fine. I was ‘clean’ for over a year before I met you. You don’t need to worry about me,” she assured him, her hands squeezing his back.

“If this isn’t supposed to make me worry, why didn't you tell me?”

He saw MC tensing up, a small grimace on her face as she turned her body to him. Her expression was stern, but her trembling bottom lip gave her away.

“Because…” she started, making an effort not to shed a tear while making her point across “that's not who I am anymore. Meeting you, someone that didn’t know me at my worst-- that was all I ever wanted,” she admitted with a sad smile. “I wanted a chance to meet someone who wouldn’t look at me like I’m broken, or like I can break again. Because I won’t. I’m not that woman anymore, Jumin, and I don’t want you to look at your wife and only think about her worst times.”

Jumin listened intently to MC in silence. He had never thought of her as broken, not even before finding out about what had happened. But it made sense his worry could make her feel insecure about her progress. He was thankful she put it into words, he wouldn’t have wanted to make her feel uncomfortable in any way.

“And I also didn’t tell you because I don’t owe my story to anyone. Not even my husband. This story is mine to tell or to silence. And I know it’s not like you looked for it, so I’m trying to be as open as I can, but--”

“MC,” Jumin interrupted her. “My love. My wife,” he took her hands to his mouth and kissed them. “I’m so happy you stayed,” he whispered, his voice breaking slightly at the end. Tears started falling down from MC’s cheeks and she bit her lip, trying to calm herself down. “Maybe I wasn’t there for your worst. But I can promise I’ll be there for your best. I hope your best can be by my side.”

MC smiled and tried to dry the tears on her face with her shoulder. She winced in pain at the motion and immediately Jumin let go of her hands and offered her his handkerchief. MC accepted it and softly patted her skin.

“I didn’t want to tell you about it because of what happened to Rika,” MC confessed in a soft voice, her eyes searching her husband’s. “I know how dear she was to you. I didn’t want you to relive any bad memories.”

“Losing Rika was… worse for Jihyun than it was for me.”

“Maybe. But you told me she was your only female friend. That must have meant something,” MC reasoned, giving him his handkerchief back. Jumin set in on the table.

“I miss her,” he sighed. It was MC’s turn to take his hands in comfort. “But… It's been already six years since she left us. It still hurts, sure, but never enough to turn a blind eye at my wife’s pain. She was my friend but you’re the love of my life. There’s never going to be anything or anyone more important than you.” He paused and took a deep breath. “I… I understand why you would want to keep it private but please, never do so in fear of upsetting me. With you by my side, there isn’t anything I can’t handle,” he said, taking her hands to his lips and leaving yet another kiss on them.

“I love you,” MC whispered, cupping Jumin’s face with her right hand. She smiled when her husband leaned his face against her palm and placed a kiss there.

“I love you too,” Jumin said, his eyes fixed on hers. “And I mean every word. I will make sure our years together are the best for both of us. I’ll keep the promise I made the day we got married five years ago: from this day on, you have a safe place in my arms.”

MC smiled and nodded, remembering her husband’s wedding vows. As he kissed her palm again, she realized she had nothing to worry about. This was still her second chance for a new life.

#mystic messenger #mysme #jumin han #mysme jumin #mm jumin #mm #jumin x mc #mysme jumin x mc #allie does commissions

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chicgeekgirl89 · 4 years ago

Text

The Way Our Horizons Meet: Chap. 2

Fandom: 911 Lone Star

Characters: Carlos Reyes, T.K. Strand

Rating: T

Summary: Carlos’ perspective through the aftermath of T.K.’s shooting. Follows the events of episodes 1x08-1x10

Read Chapter 1 Here

Days passed. Carlos went to work, did his job, went home. It was like T.K. had never existed. If it weren’t for the sweatshirt left on the back of his couch, T.K.’s preferred coffee mug still in the sink, it would have been like their relationship never happened.

Would anyone even think to let him know if something changed? If T.K. didn’t wake up…or if he…took a turn for the worse? Would they call him? Or would he just hear about it on the news like he was nobody?

And then, after six days, he was on shift when his phone buzzed.

Message from T.K. Strand

Lightning shot through him. He nearly dropped the phone, couldn’t move his fingers fast enough to get it unlocked so he could read the message.

Hey.

Carlos blinked a few times. “You okay?” Sarah asked from her desk opposite him.

“It’s uh, it’s a text from T.K.,” Carlos said, trying to process a thousand feelings at once. His brain seemed to have stalled out.

“What does it say?” Sarah asked.

“It just says ‘hey,’” Carlos told her, holding up the phone so she could see.

“Well that’s a good sign right? It means he’s awake?”

“I guess so.” Carlos stared at the message.

“Are you going to text him back?” Sarah asked.

“I—-I don’t know,” Carlos said.

“Carlos you’ve waited days for this,” Sarah said.

“I know, I know I have I just…what do I even say? ‘So I guess you’re not dead?’ ‘How’s the bullet wound healing up?’”

She raised her eyebrows. “You could just say ‘hey’ back.”

He didn’t have the chance. They got a call and by the time his shift ended two hours later he still hadn’t responded. Instead he called Michelle.

“Are you serious right now?” she asked. “Stop being such a coward and text him back!Or, better yet, go over there!”

Apparently the surprises weren’t done for the day. “He’s home?”

“Strand said he was released this morning. That’s probably why he texted you.”

Before Carlos could stop himself he flipped on his blinker and took a right in the opposite direction of his condo. He gripped the wheel tightly, anxiety racing through him so fast he felt like his whole body was vibrating.

He pulled up to the Strand’s house and it was only then that he realized what a terrible mistake this might be. What if the captain was home? What if T.K. wasn’t feeling well or didn’t want to see him?

If he didn’t want to talk to you he wouldn’t have texted, Carlos lectured himself sternly. Maybe it was a little presumptuous to just show up on the guy’s doorstep, but…he needed to see for himself that T.K. was all right.

Belatedly he realized that T.K. might be sleeping or immobile and unable to answer the door. But he’d already rung the bell and he heard the slow and slightly unsteady footsteps of someone moving around. The door opened and there he was, eyes open, face still a shade or two too pale, but alive, whole, and blinking against the sunlight. “Hey,” he said, smile slowly spreading across his face.

“Seriously?” Carlos barked out a sharp laugh, tears pricking at his eyes again. “You’ve been in a coma for a week and that’s all you can think to say? Hey?”

“Well like you said, I was in a coma,” T.K. said, smile now a full on grin that tugged at Carlos’ heart. “I’ll try and come up with something better for next time.”

Carlos shook his head. “God please don’t even say that.”

The air around them seemed to buzz with that same strange energy Carlos always felt around T.K.; like he wanted to bare his soul, tell him every secret he’d ever kept buried in his heart, and also rip his clothes off all at the same time. God damn this man made him a little crazy.

Carlos almost reached out, almost put a hand on T.K.’s face, his shoulder any part of him that would make this feel real. But he still wasn’t sure of anything at all so instead he simply curled them into fists at his side. “Are you okay? They sent you home so you must be healing, right?”

“I mean I still have a hole in my chest,” T.K. said. “But yeah, everything is functional.”

“Good,” Carlos said, uncertainty running through him. “I’m…I’m really glad you’re okay.”

“Thanks,” T.K. said.

“Cool.” Carlos was at a loss now and the silence between them was growing awkwardly long. This had been very stupid, he should have just texted back. “So I guess, I’ll see you around then?”

T.K. nodded. “Yeah, yeah I think you will.”

Carlos turned and started back toward his car, confusion swirling through him. Somehow he’d imagined…well he wasn’t sure, but not this. Damn Michelle and her stupid ideas. He should have known better than to listen to a woman who violated her restraining order on a regular basis. Usually he was more level headed than this, how could he have been—

“You really came all the way over here just to leave without coming inside?” T.K. called from behind him.

Hope sparked in his chest and he turned back to see a shit-eating-grin all over T.K.’s face. His own smile spread wide, relief crashing over him and making him feel almost dizzy. He shook his head. “Oh my god you suck,” he said, walking back to the door.

“You’re in your uniform. I like to see you walk away,” T.K. said, stepping back so Carlos could come inside.

He suppressed a chuckle. “Glad to see your brush with death hasn’t changed you.”

“It would take a lot more than a bullet for me to stop thinking you’re hot,” T.K. told him as he resettled himself on the couch, unable to completely hide a wince despite the cocky bravado he’d put on.

Carlos sat next to him, leaving some space between them so T.K. could move as he needed to to get comfortable. “Where’s your dad?” he asked, eyes taking in the pill bottles, empty granola bar wrappers, and water bottles on the coffee table.

“The station,” T.K. said. “I couldn’t take having him around anymore. He hovers like you would not believe.”

“So you’re just here by yourself?” Carlos was slightly horrified. Coming from a large family he couldn’t imagine being left alone after such a grave injury. He’d come home with sprained ankles, bruised ribs, and concussions and it never failed that within minutes of his arrival some well meaning family member was knocking on his door.

“Well not anymore,” T.K. said, flashing that grin again just before he leaned into Carlos, settling against his chest so Carlos had no choice but to wrap his arms around him.

They sat that way for a long time, the TV playing some daytime soap opera that likely neither of them were paying attention to. At least, Carlos definitely wasn’t. He was too deeply wrapped up in disbelief. He’d spent the last week trapped in a haze of anxiety and now…the person he’d most wanted to see in all the world was literally in his lap. And he didn’t know what to do with that.

He had questions, things he wanted to say, but he could tell T.K. was nodding off so instead he sat quietly, just holding him, letting the moment, a moment he’d been uncertain would ever happen again, live around him.

After about forty minutes T.K. startled himself awake and then immediately tensed, letting out a low groan of pain. Carlos rubbed a hand up and down his arm, worry pinching in his stomach. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” T.K. said, his voice strained. “Yeah just give me a second.”

Carlos continued to rub his arm soothingly, pressing his lips into T.K.’s hair as the other man breathed through the pain. “What can I do?” he asked as the minutes ticked by and T.K. still didn’t relax.

“There’s uh, there’s some maximum strength Tylenol in the kitchen,” T.K. said. “If you don’t mind—“

Carlos was already easing out from behind him, moving slowly so as not to cause him any more pain. “I’ll be right back.”

He found the medication quickly and grabbed a few more bottles of water while he was there. T.K. was lying flat out on the couch when he returned, a hand over his face, his whole body stiff.

“Hey,” Carlos said softly, kneeling by his head and cracking open the bottle, dumping two pills into his palm. “Just sit up for me a little bit, okay?”

He helped T.K. lift his head a few inches to swallow them down with a sip of water. “Oh god,” T.K. groaned as he reclined fully, face pinched in pain. “Sorry, I’m not much of a host right now.”

“It’s all right,” Carlos assured him, reaching up to gently card his fingers through T.K.’s hair. “I’ll go so you can get some rest.”

He started to stand but T.K. caught his hand. “You don’t have to,” he said and something in his eyes stopped Carlos in his tracks. He sank back down beside him, sitting cross legged on the carpet and rubbed his thumb soothingly over the back of T.K.’s hand. “I’ll be right here.”

T.K. slipped back into sleep not long after that for which Carlos was grateful. Sleep was far better than agonizing pain.

Carlos straightened up the living room a bit, bagging the water bottles and wrappers, adjusting the pillows and blankets. He was clearly his mother’s son, fussing and fidgeting around even though a zonked out T.K. didn’t require a lot of help or supervision. But he couldn’t just sit and do nothing when the house lay in disarray.

As T.K. continued to sleep Carlos checked his watch and realized it had grown late. Before he could decide about waking T.K. to say goodbye he he heard a key in the front door lock and Captain Strand stepped into the house. Their eyes met and surprise registered on his face. “Officer Reyes. I didn’t realize you’d be here.”

Carlos shifted his weight nervously back and forth. “Yes sir. I just wanted to make sure he was all right.”

The captain came a few steps closer, eyes looking past him to where T.K. was sacked out on the couch. “Looks like you’ve done a fine job taking care of him.”

Carlos swallowed. “Yes sir,” he said again. “I should get going.”

“Well don’t leave on my account,” the captain said. “You’re welcome to stay for dinner.”

That was definitely boyfriend territory and since he and T.K. hadn’t really had that conversation yet, Carlos thought it best to bow out. “Thank you. Maybe some other time.”

The captain seemed to understand. “Well thank you for coming by. I’m sure my son appreciated it.”

“Could you let him know I had to go? I didn’t want to wake him.”

“Of course,” the captain said, though his eyes seemed to say a lot more than that.

“Have a good night.” Carlos let himself out the front door. He got in his car and gripped the steering wheel tightly, relief and uncertainty mixing viciously in his stomach. He’d thought coming here and seeing T.K. was all right would somehow make things clear. But if anything he felt more confused than ever. Were they something? Or was he just a convenient hand to hold?

He shook himself. T.K. had been through a trauma. They all had. It wasn’t fair to expect anything of him right now. They would have time to talk. Carlos just wasn’t sure if he could survive the waiting.

#911 Lone Star #Tarlos #Tarlos Fic #Whump #Hurt/Comfort #911LS #Carlos Reyes #T.K. Strand

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mulderist · 4 years ago

Text

Wicked Game

Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 // Read on A03

Washington, D.C - 1948. Fox Mulder is a detective on the top vice unit; scandal, corruption, and lies come with the territory. He is forced to investigate a fellow officer and finds the lies go much deeper than the truth.

tagging @today-in-fic

CHAPTER 5

The phone rang three times before she answered. My jaw ached as I tried to mask the slur in my voice when I told her who was calling. I realized it was a long shot ringing her number but I needed something to get my head on straight. I told her I was in Georgetown and as luck would have it she did not have a shift at the hospital that evening. She accepted my invitation to have a drink. I confirmed her address and I said I would wait outside the building to meet her, adding to look for the forlorn gentleman with a grey fedora. We disconnected and I exited the booth then walked to the curb to hail a cab.

Scully’s apartment building was tucked into a quiet tree-lined block on Q Street. In a town built on history this neighborhood dripped vintage charm with neat colonial rowhouses and brick sidewalks. I paced a slow line in front of the staircase then stretched a foot on the bottom step. The sound of a door opening and heel clicks on brickwork caught my attention. There she was. A vision in a short-sleeved olive green sweater with a high neck, wide-leg trousers gave way to dark t-strap shoes that peeked out from under her pant cuffs. Her ginger-red hair was pinned up halfway and decorated with a small flower. I straightened up and tried to smile as she landed on the last step.

“God, what happened to you?” she questioned before I could even greet her properly.

“And hello to you too.” I replied.

“Oh, your cheek,” Scully frowned, “This reminds me of when we first met.” She inspected my face without laying a finger on me. I tipped back my hat slightly so she could get a better look. In the afternoon sun her eyes processed a diagnosis and she reached out a caring hand to touch my jawline but withdrew it quickly. Fingers formed a loose fist instead as her hand dropped slowly towards her hip. I cleared my throat.

“Serves me right for interrupting someone’s lunch, huh?”

“Must have been someone important for them to leave a mark like that,” Scully said, stepping back and adjusting her handbag. I shrugged then said,

“No, just me being a nosy cop.” I found myself staring as she smiled.

“So now that we’re here, where are we off to?”

“There’s a little place I visit when I’m in the neighborhood.” I slipped my hands in my pockets and gestured with a nod down the block. She joined me at my side and we strolled for a few silent moments. Her presence helped to mute the extra noise in my head. Though with each intersection we crossed I was still checking my corners, making sure we weren’t being followed. After the little scene I caused at the restaurant my guard was up. I knew I could never be too comfortable with my surroundings and I certainly didn’t want to put her in danger.

We walked farther down Q street and crossed over to 33rd to a small bar named The Blue Note. I opened the door for her and followed inside. It was your standard set-up with a small stage on the side arranged for a jazz combo. Too early for a gig, so the jukebox in the corner played the matinee performance. Regalia from the university littered the walls but in a more dignified fashion, like the proprietor was trying to distance the establishment from looking like a run-of-the-mill college bar. Still, it was dark, smoky, and my kind of familiar. Only a couple of bar flies had landed to start their day-drinking. I ushered her through a fresh haze of cigarette smoke to an empty spot at the far end of the bar. She took a seat and I adjusted my barstool, sitting close but not too close. Scully caught the attention of the stout bartender.

“I’d like a vodka tonic and my friend here will have?”

“Whiskey.”

The man nodded and scuttled back to fix our drinks. I put my fedora on the bar and ran a hand through my hair.

“Can you tell me about this case you’re working on?” Scully asked as she placed her handbag in her lap. I thought about how much I wanted to divulge so I kept the names and places to a minimum.

“It involves a drug ring, fairly standard for the vice unit. However the fly in the ointment is that it also involves an investigation into my partner.”

“Wait, the one who was buried at Arlington?”

“The very same,” I answered as the bartender delivered two short glasses. I grasped the drink and raised it, she mimicked the motion. “Cheers,” I said before taking a long sip and swirling the ice cube around. Scully sampled her drink as well and I continued.

“The papers painted it that he was killed in the line of duty. Now, I was there that night. It was the same night I got a hot lead kiss on the shoulder and I think my partner was bumped off in a deal that went sour.”

“Your partner was a hophead?” she asked as she twisted the bottom of her glass on the bar napkin.

“I didn’t suspect he was a hophead,” I said after I downed the last of my whiskey, “but the medical examiner ordered blood work that confirmed he was sky high.”

“Did you see who shot at you?” she asked after a beat, tracing a fingertip along the edge of the highball.

“No, but we did get a match on the weapon. So all I need to do is take him in .”

“Let me guess, that’s who gave you the bruise.”

“Very perceptive Scully. It was one of his goons actually.” I said as I rubbed my left cheek and glanced reflexively over my shoulder. She held her glass close to her lips and thought for a moment before taking another sip to finish it off. Scully pressed her lips together and focused on her now empty glass. I caught the change in music from the jukebox; a heavy piano piece that fit the tone in our little corner of the bar. I flagged the bartender and ordered another round. She was hesitant at first on the refill but I guess she didn’t mind my company and decided to stick around. Time seemed to slow to a halt, dripped down like molasses on a winter day.

“Enough about me and the DCPD, I want to know your story.”

“My story, Mulder? I don’t think I’m as interesting as all that,” Scully said as she glanced at her hands, admiring the tidy red varnish on the nails.

“Try me,” I replied as our second round arrived and my attention was now only on her.

“Let’s see...you already know I’m a nurse,” she began with a gesture, “I’ve been one since before the war. Schooling was no cost and once the conflict started I opted to stay home in Maryland to fill the nursing shortage. My brothers had gone through the gauntlet at the naval academy and were sent to San Diego then the South Pacific respectively. It would have broken my mother’s heart if I joined up and got shipped off too” She paused and took a drink. “My sister and mother stayed in Annapolis but in ‘45 I headed to Washington to continue with medicine. There was more I wanted to learn and more ways I felt I could help.”

“And that’s how you ended up in Georgetown?”

She nodded and softly exhaled.

“After I buried my father, I buried myself in studies, work, and other hobbies. I figured if I kept myself busy enough I wouldn’t have time to think about the loss.” Her shoulders shrugged and she absentmindedly toyed with a strand of hair then swept it behind her ear.

“Any travel in that time?” I asked, hoping she had an answer. I was shit at small talk when I wasn’t using my badge.

“California after the war ended to see my brother Bill and his family for Christmas, then last year I took the train up to New England for a change of scenery.”

“Ah, I’m familiar with that area. My parents live on Martha’s Vineyard.”

“It’s really lovely. I was fortunate to visit in the fall.” A hint of a smile crossed her lips as she recalled the memory. A pleasant silence then fell between us. More small talk followed, less personal this go around. Filler subjects like the weather and sports weaved their way into conversation. I was pleased to learn she was a baseball fan and was hoping for a better season than last year.

The bar was getting more clientele and as much as I wanted to stay and extend my friendship with Mr Jack Daniels, I figured we should make it last call. I paid our tab and escorted Scully outside, placing a featherweight touch on her shoulder as I guided her through the open door. The air felt cool as the sun hid behind passing clouds, setting up for another storm. She thanked me for the drinks and though she was a captain’s daughter who could certainly hold her liquor, I offered to walk her home.

As we turned the corner and walked back up the block I still felt that we weren’t alone. I kept a close stride next to Scully as we neared her building. She ascended the steps and I joined her at the door. This time her hand found my cheek.

“I hope to see you again,” she said as she gently stroked my jawline, “But next time without any occupational damage.”

“Can’t make any promises, doll,” I said moving closer, feeling her fingers twitch, catching a flutter of her eyelashes as she exhaled. My gaze was soft, hypnotized by her features. She grazed the stubble on my skin then Scully raised her chin and placed a soft sweet kiss on my injured cheek.

“Take care of yourself, detective.”

Through the narrow pane of glass on the building’s door I watched her walk up the stairs, she looked back over her shoulder giving me a final flash of that flower nestled against her red hair. As I turned and walked down the steps I noticed a car parked across the street and a man with a sharp suit and glasses leaning against the side.

“Are you following me?” I called out once I was on the sidewalk, my hand on the butt of my weapon.

“This is your surveillance detail?” Skinner questioned.

“Chivalry isn’t dead yet, Captain.”

“Something’s come up. Get in,” Skinner said as he motioned to the car. I walked around the front of the cruiser and opened the passenger door joining him inside.

“I heard about your incident with Carlo Lodi today.”

“Word travels fast.”

“You’re damn right it does, Mulder. This city is more connected than ever. I had a conversation with our friend Alex Krycek when he returned the squad car you lent him. Seems that he was privy to information regarding a Vincenti heroin shipment tonight.”

“Ha! What did you have to trade for that info?” I asked. He tensed his jaw then said,

“Continued protection. It appears he’s been sitting on this since we first interrogated him.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“There will be a boat arriving at the Navy Yard tonight. Small crew. They are going to make a transfer to one of the warehouses, but it’s up to you to find how they’re moving the shipment from there.”

I took a moment to process the details of my assignment.

“Will I have back-up?”

“Via radio. Do not engage after you make the mark. Follow standard tailing procedure.”

“If you’re going to send me on a suicide mission, can you at least drop me off in Alexandria. I could use a shower and something to eat.” Skinner gave me a sideways glance and turned the key in the ignition, bringing life to the cruiser. He shifted into gear and we were on our way back across the Potomac.

#i wrote this #historical au #mulder pov #xf fanfic #my fic #noir fiction #wip

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randomfandomnerd · 4 years ago

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Sunshine and Shadows- Chapter 1

Watching Nico talking to Annabeth and Percy, Will mentally slapped himself in the face. That conversation had gone about as smoothly as the surface of the moon. There was no chance of Nico ever willingly talking to him if he behaved like an overprotective mother hen, although part of him still wanted to wrap the son of Hades up in a blanket, burrito-style, and hand-feed him nutritious snacks.

“Solace!”

The harsh tone of Clarisse’s voice snapped him back to reality.

“Quit admiring Di Angelo! I know you’d be more than happy to do that all day, so I’m reminding you now! You have an appointment after lunch to give Chuck a check-up DO NOT BE LATE OR YOU’LL BE GETTING AN APPOINTMENT WITH MY SPEAR!”

On that friendly note, the newly-elected godmother stormed over to the Athena Cabin to harass the campers who had offered to weave clothes for the new-born satyr. Gods help whoever stood in the way of her warpath. She adored Chuck and was determined to make his life as perfect as possible.

Will nodded vaguely, before turning back to watch the son of Hades. He couldn’t help it. It wasn’t his fault that Nico was so gods damned attractive. Nico laughed at something Percy said, the action lighting up his face, making him truly look like the angel his name said he was. He gave Annabeth a high-five before heading back towards where Will was standing in front of the Apollo Cabin.

Will noticed a blush creeping into his cheeks and quickly turned away, mortified. A moment later he felt a prod at his shoulder and looked up to see the son of Hades regarding him questioningly.

“Will? We’d better get these 3 days over and done with then, right?”

Startled, Will let out a weird laugh that sounded like a piece of machinery made by Cabin 9, before nodding, turning round, and promptly walking into the doorframe, much to the amusement of Kayla, who was sitting inside, waxing her bowstring. Embarrassed, he quickly changed from his flip-flops into something more suitable for the infirmary before emerging again onto the porch.

✧✧✧

Nico was waiting for him on the porch, leaning against a post, drumming his fingers against the railing. When Will approached him, he stood up and gestured for the son of Apollo to lead the way. The walk to the infirmary was short, thank the gods, and Will spent the time determinedly staring forwards. A few campers were hurrying around, carrying supplies. Will nodded a hello towards Jake Mason, who was with a few other Hephaestus kids. The older boy didn’t have crutches any more, but preferred to use a cane when he had to walk around. Typical Cabin 9-style it had several cool additions, such as being able to extend into a fighting staff and, if Harley had anything to do with it, probably a flamethrower somewhere. The scarily muscular 8-year-old was chatting animatedly to his older brother, but he wasn’t at his usual bouncy self. Harley had worshipped Leo, and had been devastated by his loss. It didn’t help that now, closer to the start of school, all of his siblings, save for Nyssa, would be heading home or to college for a while. Will made a mental note to hang out with him more.

The two boys reached the doors of the infirmary and Will opened one, stepping aside to let Nico in first. Once they were inside, Will made a beeline for an empty bed at the back of the infirmary.

“We save the front beds for anyone that comes in with a really severe injury”,

he explained. He gestured for Nico to sit on the bed while he fussed around, clearing some of Austin’s sheet music away from a chair before plonking himself down on it. He’d have a word later with his brother about working on his compositions in the infirmary. Glancing up, he noticed that Nico was looking rather awkward (and adorable). He kept moving his hands around, as if he weren’t quite sure what he was doing, whilst desperately avoiding eye contact with anyone. Right. Nico wasn’t a people person, and it was currently quite busy in the surrounding area. Will stood up to draw the blue curtain around their area, before turning to address the son of Hades.

“I know this is primarily for you to get some rest, but I think I should give you a general check just to make sure nothing other than your irresponsible use of underworldy powers is a problem.”

Nico scowled at him but didn’t argue, instead opting for a curt nod. Will continued,

“I’ll start by looking under that bandage on your arm”

He reached out to Nico’s arm

“Is this ok?”,

he asked. Nico paused slightly, before nodding again. As gently as he could, Will raised Nico’s arm and began to slowly unwind the bandage, revealing several nasty-looking red claw-marks gouged into his skin.

“Werewolf claws”,

mumbled Nico. Will frowned.

“These are definitely infected. I’ll check for a fever and get some ambrosia for you. I reckon these will leave scars.”

He hesitated, then leaned in and brushed Nico’s raven-black hair from his forehead. It felt soft and, to his dismay, Will found his cheeks turning pink again. Holding the back of his hand against Nico’s pale forehead, he noticed how warm the son of Hades was.

“Nico, you’re burning up!”,

he announced before rummaging around in a nearby cupboard for some ambrosia and anything else he could use to treat the wound. He noticed a rather sad-looking Aloe Vera plant. Didn’t his siblings know that Aloe Vera should be placed in direct sunlight and not at the back of supply cupboards? He placed the poor plant in the windowsill, before taking a washcloth and some antibacterial ointment from the cupboard, along with the promised ambrosia. After thoroughly washing his hands, he handed the ambrosia to Nico, who began to delicately take small bites out of it, while he wet the cloth under the tap and started to carefully clean the wound. Nico winced slightly when the cloth made contact with the infected area, but had a slightly dopey faraway expression whilst he ate the ambrosia. Will wondered what Nico tasted when he consumed ambrosia. When Will ate it he tasted the sweet lemonade his grandma made whenever he returned home to visit. He tended to remain at camp most of the time, due to his mum always travelling for work and his insistence not to attend any sort of boarding school, but every now and again, he would fly over with a satyr protector to stay at his grandparent’s house with her. When he left, he would spend most of his time wondering when, or if, he’d ever get to go back. Especially after having 2 big wars in the space of a few years. Of course, his problems were all miniscule compared to what Nico had had to go through. He’d had to face the death of his sister, being alone with only a ghost for company, knowing about Camp Jupiter and not being able to tell anyone, being kidnapped and locked in a jar by crazy giants, and then on top of all of that had to deal with everyone at camp avoiding him, because they thought that he wasn’t normal. It all made Will so angry at the world, for allowing some people so many good things, when Nico could probably count the number of times he’d been happy since coming to camp on one hand, and still have fingers left over to spare.

Nico cleared his throat, and Will realised to his embarrassment, that he was staring again. He sheepishly placed the cloth in the sink, before lightly spreading a thin layer of the antibacterial ointment over the claw marks and murmuring a prayer to his father, while wondering if it would even work, seeing as Apollo was probably at that moment in time in the middle of a long lecture from his father, Zeus, concerning Octavian, the evil stuffed-toy destroyer (Percy had treated the whole camp to a story at the campfire of how his panda pillow pet had been brutally slaughtered).

He then covered the wound with a gauze pad, finishing by gently wrapping a length of bandage around, to prevent further infection.

He turned round to clean up while giving Nico strict instructions,

“I’ll talk to Chiron and explain that you are under no circumstances to partake in any sort of training exercises. You should spend most of your time here, getting some much needed sleep, however I think it’s a good idea for you to attend 1 meal a day at the pavilion, which will also allow you to have some healthy time outdoors. The rest of the time I will provide food for you.”

Even though he was facing away, he could imagine the son of Hades glaring daggers at him.

“I can get food myself. There’s a McDonalds near enough that the shadow travel shouldn’t hurt me.”

Will sighed in exasperation, running a hand through his hair and turning around to face his stubborn patient.

“Really? What part of ‘you can’t even summon a wishbone without melting into a puddle of darkness’ do you not get? I’m not even going to start on the ridiculous lack of proper nutrients in a McDonalds meal. What can they offer you that camp doesn’t?”

Nico raised his chin in a show of defiance

“Does Camp Half-Blood offer snazzy boxes? No I thought not. It also has an over-bearing mamma bear watching my every move. When I agreed to this, I expected gentle rest, not a prison sentence.”

He dramatically flopped back on the bed, his head on the pillow.

“I’m not even tired! Not one bit!”

Fixing his glare at the ceiling he mumbled

“This is a nice pillow. Soft and squishy.”

On that note, he fell asleep, still muttering about how fully awake he was. Amused, Will shook his head and stepped out of the curtained area into the main area of the infirmary to see Cecil and Austin chuckling in his direction. Austin was in the process of checking Cecil’s strained calf muscle and met Will’s eyes with an amused look.

“Why William my dear brother, I do believe that you have met your match. He’s just as headstrong as you are!”

Disgruntled, the senior counsellor of the Apollo cabin went to the storage closet to reorganise the medical supplies.

#heroes of olympus #rick riordan #trials of apollo #riordanverse #nico di angelo #will solace #solangelo #camp half blood

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project-rosewood-476 · 4 years ago

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Chapter 2 part 2 Of Every Rose Has Its Thorns is out now! the AU and some of the ideas and characters belong to @creepypasta-shtick and Maplehood Creek, Rosewood, and Tabby Anderson belong to me.

TW: character death, mentions of blood and gore

She walked out the front door and waited for Toby. Toby followed her out and led her out of the building. Tabby followed him out of the building and she kept her head down low and her hands in her pockets. She didn't dare make any eye contact for too long and she was quiet.

There were already a lot of people outside. Toby heard something.

"Go after that human!"

Toby looked around and saw a small figure darting through the crowd as more and more monsters gathered to watch.

"KILL IT!" Another monster shrieked.

Toby saw the figure dart into an ally and watched a harassed looking proxy going after the human. Ah. A runt being made to chase the human down. Hm.

Tabby snapped her head up and her eyes were wide alert. Toby was facing her so she turned around and got into a fighting stance to attempt to protect him and herself. She was about ready to grab her knives that she had on her. But once she realized that it wasn't for her she let out a quiet sigh in relief. And dropped her defensive posture. But she was still alert just in case.

Toby watched the young proxy attempt to capture the human, then the crowd blocked his view. He shrugged.

"We might as well just go." He said to Tabby. "The library is a couple blocks away from here." He said. He had no interest in trying to watch.

She nodded not saying anything. It was none of her business and curiosity does indeed kill the cat from Tabby's life experiences so far. She went back to keeping her head down and putting her hands in her pockets. She quickly walked away to keep up with Toby and to get away from the scene.

Toby heard whoops in the distance, then groans. Seems like that will take awhile. He sighed.

"Humans sometimes accidentally find portals down here." He explained.

"Makes sense", she said quietly, still not looking up.

That just added on to her anxieties. What if her little brother were to accidentally show up? He was only 7. He would never survive this place nor would she want him to know what she and the others do here for a living.

Toby nodded. They soon arrived at a very tall, somewhat circular building. The door seemed somewhat disproportionate to the size of the building. Toby began to climb up the stairs. This was the library.

Tabby let out a quiet "oh" in awe. She quickly climbed up the stairs.

Toby opened the door for her. The inside of the library was cold, and it was somewhat dark.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

She scurried inside and felt a little more relaxed once the cool air hit her. She took in a deep breath and smelled the familiar smell of a library. She let out a sigh of nostalgia as her eyes got used to the darkness. She saw circular shelves of books one outside another. And they were so high that there was a ladder for those that can't reach the top. Toby followed behind her. The library was blissfully quiet. He saw a few people scattered around but none of them were bothering anyone. Secretly she was fangirling inside as this is what her dream library would be basically. She began to look around for the plant books. Looking up and around at everything practically almost breaking her neck in doing so. Toby let her look around. He saw an old friend of his so he went to go chat with him. A librarian was nearby, quietly hovering by a bookshelf. Tabby grabbed a couple of each. She grabbed two books on edible and poisonous plants. That would be good if she had missions that left her stranded in the woods somewhere. And a couple of books on the plants here and their medical uses which would be good for her since she doesn't trust doctors and would have to take care of her own serious wounds if she got injured. Then she explored a little more avoiding the people like they are the plague. There were a couple of human authors here that she liked and there were other books that she made a mental note of that she might like that she didn't know of. But she wasn't sure how many books she could take out at once. So she just stuck with the books that she planned to take out.

Toby sat next to his friend. EJ glanced up, sensing him here.

"Oh, good morning, Toby."

"Hey Jack. Whatcha up to?"

"Oh, I'm just taking a break from my work. I got Kate to cover my wing of the med bay today so I could spend some time in here."

"How are you reading the books with no eyes?" Toby asked curiously.

"I can just...feel the letters." EJ said.

Toby shook his head with a smile.

"You were always kind of weird."

"Why thank you." EJ said with a laugh.

The two continued to chat. EJ was telling him about another malus that he knew that was opening up a restaurant nearby.

Once Tabby was done looking around she went to what she assumed to be a check out counter and waited patiently. She quickly looked up to make sure that Toby didn't leave her. She saw him near by and saw that he was talking to a guy in a blue mask that appeared to have no eyes. She quickly looked down. Toby and EJ continued to chat. Toby had fond memories of EJ. EJ had been doing what he did since childhood. As a malus, he was raised in this world. EJ had taken a bit of care with Toby when Toby was new. He had shown Toby the ropes and taught him different ways to stalk people and how to get around in the pitch black effectively. He was a good dude. A tall librarian passed them, heading towards Tabby. Tabby stood up straight and shifted her weight uncomfortably. She looked up but not for too long. The librarian stopped in front of her, and pointed her to the self checkout line. You didn't need a card here. You could use your fingerprint or leave something as collateral. Tabby let out a silent 'oh'. She nodded her head and said a quiet 'thank you' to the librarian and went to try to figure out this process. She mentally cringed at herself at how godawful awkward she was being in front of Toby and his friend. It didn't matter if this was her first time it was still cringey and awkward. She figured out the process and used her fingerprint as she was now registered in the library. She held her books close to her chest and continued to look down and walked over towards Toby. Toby didn't care. He knew that it was awkward learning how to do things here. He knew other would've made fun of her but he saw no point in it. As for EJ, he was totally blind. He had no idea. Toby saw her approaching and smiled.

"Oh, hi Tabby. This is Eyeless Jack. EJ for short."

"Just Jack also works." EJ said.

"Hello. It's nice to meet you" she said politely.

She turned to Toby. "I got the books I needed"

EJ nodded and turned back to feeling the book with his fingers.

Toby smiled. "Awesome." He said.

He got up. "You probably want to leave now?"

"You can still do whatever you're doing I can wait" she said looking down.

She was referring to letting Toby finish up his conversation with EJ.

Toby thanked her, and sat back down to continue chatting with EJ.

Tabby sat down a couple of benches over not wanting to be rude and eavesdrop on the conversation. She began to read one of her books. Toby learned that EJ was about to he sent out on a largely lucrative mission. He would be set for awhile. It sounded very tempting too. It was going to be a group thing. Tabby lost herself in the book. She's always been book smart because she loved to learn everything and anything that she could that wouldn't get herself killed. Toby noted that she was pretty engrossed so he just let her read. EJ let slip that the boss was looking for a group of proxies to do it with him, since part of it was infiltrating a school and he obviously couldn't do that. Tabby continued reading. She was in her favorite reading position. Back against the corner, leaning against the wall and having her legs curled up. Toby eventually finished up his conversation and headed over to Tabby to ask if she still wanted to be shown around. Tabby nodded and closed her book and got up. Toby grinned.

"Awesome." He said.

He was honestly a little excited to show her around.

Tabby was smiling stupidly at Toby being excited but thank god he couldn't see under her mask. She followed behind him and said goodbye to the desk person and walked out the door. Toby led her out towards Tabby was honestly excited. This was the first time she's had total freedom before. Sure she was still suspicious and wary of everyone and everything around her. And she was still concerned with surviving another day in this new world. But with Toby leading her and she herself looking around her surroundings. She realized that she was having some sort of fun. And it brought a sense of peace for now. It's been a while since she's had either.

The street. Just ahead of them on the other side was what seemed to be some sort of marketplace. Toby knew that she would probably be okay as she had a mask on. No one really messed with proxies, at least, not in this public of a setting. He led her across the street and to the market place.

"This is sort of like what humans would call a farmer's market." Toby explained to Tabby.

One old, squat green woman was next to a cart of strange, berry-like orbs that pulsated and glowed. A tall creature with hulking claws and sharp teeth was next to a booth where Toby could hear meowing and barking. A proxy woman with a pale blue mask was standing next to a cart with jewelry displayed. Toby knew that woman was a member of the WPA and that that jewelry probably wasn't all that it seemed. A man with pointy ears and a long tail was obviously some type of snack vendor. There were even more booths and carts than Toby could see.

She looked at Toby. Although he did spare her life and was so nice to her. She wanted to start trusting him little by little and maybe just maybe have him considered as...a friend. She looked away and shook her head. There's no way that she could possibly move on. Not when she still has to avenge her friends and moving on equates to forgetting to her. And she promised herself that she wouldn't forget. Besides he was a killer he really shouldn't be trusted. He could easily kill her at anytime. She looked at him as he was explaining the supermarket to her. Perhaps under different circumstances and in another place in time. They would have been the best of friends. Definitely would have tied for first place with Autumn.

She nodded her head eagerly in understanding.

"it's definitely livelier than the human ones. Sometimes my mom would take me to them in the summer and falls. Since that's when they're open. She liked to look around and attempts to cook with fresh foods. I accidentally got free food from there once", Tabby explained a little excitedly.

Toby nodded and smiled. He had never been to a farmer's market as a human but Hoodie had told him what it was like. Toby continued to lead her through the stalls, pointing out things he knew. He pointed at the squat woman with the orbs.

"She's selling Tethered, which are kind of pets? I think they're more similar to familiars but I'm not sure. They're really good for neutralizing anxiety and also some will kill people who threaten you. Jeff has one named Smile”.

He pointed at another creature.

"He sells pets. Mainly just cats and dogs but I think he has a few birds. Mostly pigeons though."

They passed by the woman with the jewelry, where another sign said 'CONCEALED WEAPONRY. ASK FOR DETALS'. The snack vendor was selling some odd looking food. Toby grimaced. The monster was probably a cannibal. They passed someone selling dried plants and herbs. They passed Bloody Painter selling his art. There were tricks and laughter and even some games being played. One booth sold cursed items. Another sold weapons, but not just standard knives. One woman was selling psychic services. There were so many things to do. Toby was a little overwhelmed with it all but he did his best not to show it.

"There's clothes too I think."

Tabby looked around her anxiety was picking up. She occasionally fidgeted with her shirt before catching herself and smoothening it out before picking back up on the habit again. There was just too many people there for both of their tastes. She could tell he was getting a little anxious too since she is the queen of anxiety. There was somethings she would have liked to try and buy but she didn't want to bother Toby so she stayed silent for awhile

"There's a lot of things to do here...I can't wait until I get my own money".

She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw a water color painting by the bloody painter. It started out as a campfire then the embers turned into birds and then the birds turned into stars in the galaxy looking sky. Transitional paintings as Autumn would call them. What made her stopped dead in her tracks was that it was Autumns favorite medium to work with and that was exactly the tattoo she described that she wanted when she turned 18. She died before then. Tabby's eyes showed a mixture of sadness, pain and nostalgia.

Toby turned to check on her and could see that she was hurt. He decided to not push it as it was probably personal. He decided to try to just talk to her about something else.

"Jack was telling me about a long mission that he was going to go on, and that he needed proxies to go with him." He said with a shrug. "I was thinking of volunteering. Would you like to go too? It would be field training, very good pay, and a way to get to know other proxies you may work with in the future."

Tabby shook her head to get rid of the memories. She looked at Toby with a confused expression for a moment before processing what he just said. She looked at him unsurely.

"I'm not sure if that's a good idea...but training has to start somewhere I guess...I won't get anywhere if I do nothing..."

"What's the mission exactly?" She looked at him suspiciously.

"It's an infiltration mission." Toby explained.

"Infiltrating a school." He said.

"It would be for about a half a year or so? But we would be given an allowance and a house to stay in while we're there. Since you and I look young, we would be the infiltrators. If we go, Masky and Hoodie probably would too. I think they might pretend to be married and our parents." Toby smiled. That would be fun.

Tabby gave him a funny weird look.

"That would make siblings...for the mission I mean" she giggled.

"I never had a decent older brother before...you'd be much better than my other one" she stopped abruptly and mentally cursed herself again that she gave out too much information. She wouldn't drag her family into this, especially her little brother Adam. She had a more serious look to her.

Wait which school?..." she hoped that it wasn't what she thought it was.

Toby smiled at her.

"I'll do my best to be a decent brother." He joked.

He thought for a bit and realized he didn't necessarily know which school it was, only that there was a target within the school.

She laughed.

"I'll think about it" she said thoughtfully.

"If the school was Rosewood or the Maplehood Creek school system. I really can't go back there as I've been missing for two days now so people are probably looking. Courtesy from the police. And that would put the team at risk and I'm not having that. However I can tell you the best ways to sneak in and out. And pointers on what to do and who you should stay away from. Even though he's a measly human compare to you I don't want to take any chances he has a way of getting into your head", she said and became more quiet after mentioning Horacio.

She really wouldn't mind if Horacio was the target. Finally the bastard has what's coming to him. All she would ask for is let her do the kill. However what if it's not? What if it's a child? Specifically her little brother. That thought spiked her anxiety as she picked back up the habit of fidgeting with her shirt again

"Hey I got a few questions".

"Well, if it is in that school district, then I'm sure we could find a way to disguise you. We have our ways." Toby smiled.

"Monsters who don't want to work with proxies have these pills that allows them to change their appearance." Toby explained.

"Though it really only works on non-mali monsters, so EJ can't use em." Toby knew EJ sold those pills however. Toby continued to walk.

"Hm?" He would answer any question to the best of his ability.

"Would it be possible to set up a bank account in the human world? Anonymously of course. Since we're getting paid for these missions. I promised myself that I would get this person out of Maplehood when they're old enough. But I'm here now so idk how that would work out and I don't want to be in trouble or drag them into my own mess. Also, would we get in trouble for killing someone on a mission when we're not ordered too? Because if it is Rosewood I know exactly who I need to go for”.

Toby looked a little confused.

"We have no real need for human money here. We earn our own currency here." He said.

"If we did, then this world would be flooded by international currencies and business is so much harder to do." He said.

"There are ways to get human money, but usually we trade in for it at our bank or we just steal cash from victims." He said.

"And no, we wouldn't get in trouble for killing if not ordered to. He said. "A lot of us go out killing for fun. It shouldn't be a problem."

"Ohh.." she said a little sadly at the first part. Then she'll just have to rely on Adam making the right choices then. "Good" she said at the second part.

"But in all actual seriousness if it is Rosewood. Stay away from Horacio at all costs if you can. Don't take anything from him, don't give anything to him, don't talk to him, and don't believe a word he says either. I don't care if he's human it's best to not take any chances. Rosewood isn't exactly a great place to be. It's a place to break your spirit and to become more broken than what a person is now." She spoke frantically but she stopped herself and took a couple of deep breaths to calm down.

Her tone became more cold and harsh "if he is the target all I ask is to leave him to me. I'll take care of him" there was like a cold anger, vicious, darker feel around her.

"However on a different note" her tone gradually left the coldness and harsher bite to it "and these are all ifs. I could show you which backroads to use to sneak around town and which spots are excellent hideouts" she added.

Toby nodded. He knew better than to fall for any sort of human nonsense. But then again. They had no idea if that school would even be Rosewood. He hoped it wouldn't be, though he assumed the school would be in a similar area. He was somewhat excited. He let EJ know over phone to contact Masky and see if they should do this mission. He never really experienced high school and would honestly love to. Tabby stayed quiet for some time. Just having time to mull over her thoughts. She took the time to observe Toby. It made her smile to see him excited about something even if it was subtle. She thought about it from his perspective. He told her that he's been homeschooled so for someone who's never been in a social school setting before she could understand why it would be exciting to him. Autumn would have loved having him around. He would have made a great addition to the dysfunctional family she used to have.

She finally spoke up "but whatever school it is. We'll figure out together as a team right?"

She sounded much more confident than she ever did or felt. And her tone had a hint of hope and optimism in it.

"Since Jane told me that proxies work in groups and it's normally with people that they work well with or semi trust" she added quickly and looked down and went back to being quiet.

"I just don't want to see you hurt and broken more than what you are...especially if it's Rosewood" she mumbled that was barely audible.

Toby nodded, eyes shining.

"Yeah! As a team." He said with a bright smile.

He liked that idea. He also figured the boss would put Tabby with their group anyways. He hadn't heard what she had mumbled. He saw a group of monster children playing on some sort of metal spiderweb. Toby suddenly felt a little anxious. Oh god. Going back to school. Would be be made fun of again? Would he be bullied again? His mind began to travel further and further down that path until he felt a sense of incredible calm wash over him. He saw, holding onto his wrist, a warm golden rope. Thread. Whatever. Seeing that he calmed down, the tendril loosened and pulled away. Toby looked around and saw The Puppeteer nearby. Ah. That was probably it.

Tabby laughed at his childishness. For a moment she had a mini flashback to when she and autumn were alone. Whether it was after school before she had to go home or when they would sneak out at night together. Tabby would go on her rants of stupidly hopeful optimistic childishness stuff. Autumn would smile and listened to her. Only with her and Toby the roles were in reverse. Tabby was playing the part of Autumn and Toby was playing the part of a younger and more hopeful version of Tabby.

She won't admit it to anyone ever especially to Toby. But her entire past and heart just melted away when he said 'yeah like a team'. The only team that she had was her friend group. She hasn't had that in a long time. Strangely enough she felt at peace with him and she had a glimmer of a future. Perhaps one with him in it?. She made another promise to herself that she would stay alive long enough to protect Toby from getting bullied at school for the mission. At whatever cost. For a moment and she made sure no one was looking she looked at him like he was the best thing in this world.

She looked over to where he was looking and saw a ghostly figure with golden strings. She then put two and two together "so that's the puppeteer" she said in thought in realization "maybe I'll go talk to him and see what's he about" she also said in thought

She spoke up after coming back from being lost in her thoughts "who was that guy with the golden strings?"

Toby smiled.

"That is The Puppeteer." He said.

The Puppeteer was pretty decent to know. Since he was a ghost, he didn't really have a home and he stayed with people, took away their negative feelings, and he was usually welcome. Toby would often see him around Bria- Hoodie. But at the moment, he was hanging around a short girl with a pale, crusty-looking mask. Oh. Kate. Kate wasn't wearing her med mask so she wasn't working. They seemed to be chatting with each other. Toby told Tabby about Kate.

"That's Kate, or the Chaser. She is a really good medic." He said. Kate was a brilliant proxy and a brilliant medic. She is one of the more prominent medics, specially trained by EJ. She keeps secrets well." He had great respect for Kate. She helped a friend of his out with a very...awkward situation.

"Interesting..." she mused to herself

"Although the idea is tempting I think I just have too much emotional baggage too the point where he can't take away all of it" she looked at Toby then at Kate distrustfully

"But I don't like doctors"

"Oh you'd be surprised how much he could take." Toby said with a laugh.

"And I know, I know. Kate doesn't treat people unless they ask or need it." Kate would refuse service too if people were assholes about it.

She gave a bitter chuckle "you don't know the half of what I've been through"

She gave a thoughtful look over to Kate "well that's good I guess"

Toby sighed.

"Pretty much everyone here who used to be human has been through some sort of hell here." He assured her.

Toby remembered a time when some monster was ranting to Kate, in her own med bay, about how useless she was. Kate had just stood up, and told him to get the hell out. Kate was very no-nonsense.

Tabby sighed and continued walking with him. The market place was getting busier and she didn't want to be left behind so she sped up her pace to catch up with him. Toby led her past carts with clothes and other things. Toby wondered if he should get some things, maybe a new coat or something. There were some things that he could use. Tabby saw and liked a lot of things but she didn't want to bother him and waste his own money. There were also free samples of food being given out. Tabby wanted to try some due to her curiosity but between her anxiety, paranoia and not knowing if the food was poisonous or not. She decided against it. Toby would have purchased her things if she would have asked. He was a good proxy after all; he wasn't broke or anything. He saw a juice sample being offered for free and thought it looked interesting so he got a free sample of it and sipped it. It was pretty good.

"Can I have a sample?", She asked shyly, "if it's not poisoned that is"

"Sure." Toby said.

He went and got her a sample as well.

"Poisons aren't really all that popular here but you can get something to test food for poison." He said.

"You can never be too safe", she said as she took the juice she sniffed it just to be sure.

"Smells good" she said in thought.

She took a sip "mmmm" she had a big smile on her face. It tasted like apples and berries.

"What is this exactly? And where can I get the food tester thing?".

Toby smiled.

"I think Nat makes the juice." He stated, finishing his sample.

"This is just juice. Non-alcoholic." He said.

"You can get the food testers at stores and some restaurants have single use ones." He said.

"This is good" she finished up the last of the juice.

"Let's go" she said excitedly ready to continue this adventure.

Toby smiled.

"Okay! Do you want to stay here or go somewhere else?" He asked.

"Let's try somewhere else", she said.

"Okay!" Toby continued to lead her along.

He was going to show her around a downtown area. Tabby stayed close to him so she wouldn't get lost. There was still enough personal space between them but with the occasional arm brushing up against the other's arm. Toby understood. It was whatever. The downtown area was much less crowded. It was very nice. There were shops, restaurants, and other places. They passed a pet shop. Tabby stopped dead in her tracks as she saw a black, white and orange kitten with a little tear in its ear. She immediately were up to the glass like she was drawn to it. The kitten was play fighting with the other kittens and then it came to playfully attack Tabby through the window but it bounced off and tumbled backwards a little. Tabby giggled. Toby smiled and let her stay and watch the cat. It was pretty cute. He knew this place treated the pets well. This place also was a vet place. He got Nugget's shots there.

She turned to him.

"I used to have an orange cat back where I used to live. Well he wasn't really mine he was a stray but he did follow me home a couple of times. But my apartment didn't allow pets. So after school I would spend time with him if my friends were too busy. His name is Mac which is short for mac and cheese."

For just a moment her eyes were full of child like wonder instead of there usual haunted, knowing, and troubled look that they usually had. For a moment she looked young and hopeful instead of her usual mature tough girl look.

Toby smiled.

"You want to go in and see the rest of the cats?" He offered.

They might as well. He knew Masky picked up shifts there when he wasn't busy. It was a nice place with decent staff and of course, lots of cute animals.

Tabby nodded excitedly "yeah!"

"That kitten in there is a rough and tumble troublemaker" she grinned.

Toby grinned, and led her inside. The place was loud, with the sounds of cats, dogs, birds, and other animals occupying the space. Tabby played and petted the puppies in their cages and talking to them before the said kitten jumped out of the display cage and padded over towards Tabby and headbutted her from behind to get her attention. She turned around "why hello there again troublemaker" she cooed at the kitten and picked it up and pet it with one hand and the puppies with the other. She was sitting down and was frantically trying to give each animal equal love and affection. Toby let her do so. He smiled. It was very nice to see her happy. He went to go check in the back where he found the old monster who ran this shop. He was a wrinkled grey creature with stringy silver hair. He had a cage with him and was examining a cat on the table. The old monster had specially made glasses for all six of his eyes. The lenses were thick. The cat was sleek and black, and seemed to be very chubby. The monster, who people just called Ed, was muttering to himself in a nasally voice as he looked over the cat. But in the end she had all of the cats on her as she was being smothered in kitty affection. She sighed in defeat.

Toby came over to check on her just as Ed brought out the new cat to put in a separate enclosure. Tabby was laying in defeat on the floors the herd of kittens were all over her. She looked up at Toby.

"I was ambushed".

Toby laughed.

"You were overwhelmed. There were too many of them."

"There's no such thing as too many. The problem here is that I don't have enough limbs"

She gently shook the kittens to get them off of her. She gently put them back in their display cage by the window.

"We could change that." Toby joked.

Ed was totally ignoring the two of them.

"You know, you could always work here between missions." He said. "For a little side cash, you know."

Tabby laughed.

"It would make multitasking easier" she joked back.

She tilted her head to the side, "I think I would like that".

Toby laughed.

"We can cut off some random human's arms and have EJ attach em to you." He joked some more.

"The only time I'll let any doctors near me" she joked back.

Toby laughed.

"Fair enough." He said.

"Where are we going now?", she asked.

"Hm. We could finish the downtown tour. I could take you to Nat's- sorry I mean Clockwork's- bar.".

"I'm old enough here to drink?" She tilted her head to the left as she often did when she was confused

"Then again I've been sneaking alcohol and playing bartender to the people I lived with since I was 12. I know how to mix drinks quite well".

Toby looked at her and laughed.

"This is literally a haven of killers, and you think there's a drinking age here?" He said.

"If you're under ten you can drink if your parents are with you, but that's the only restriction I've seen."

Tabby laughed and looked down.

"Fair enough" she shrugged her shoulders as she walked with Toby.

Toby led her down the street. It was pretty hot out. Tabby looked around at her surroundings. Although it was pretty hot out she didn't complain. Toby knew the bar was a couple of blocks down. He began to lead the way. Tabby stuck close to Toby. She kept her head down to avoid the other people. Toby understood. They passed by an alley and Toby heard the unmistakable sounds of someone getting beat up. Tabby heard the sounds too. She sucked in a breath as she physically cringed deeper into her jacket as she remembered her own beatings by her step dad and her fist fights with Horacio and others at Rosewood. Her entire body jerked as she felt the phantom pains of her past beatings. She walked quicker. Toby ignored it. This happened if you got too cocky. That was why it was good to have friends here. Masky told him to make sure everyone liked him so they wouldn't beat him. That's what Masky did and it worked. It took a couple of minutes before the phantom pain died down and a couple of more minutes for her to uncoil from her jacket and then pretended like nothing happened.

Toby soon saw the lights of the bar. Thank god. He made a beeline for the place. It was crowded but never uncomfortably so. Tabby followed him. She saw the lights and how crowded it is. She gulped as her social anxiety kicked in. It was pretty tame at the moment. Nat was tending to the bar. Others sat and talked amongst themselves. Tabby quietly looked around at her surroundings. There was still a lot of people but not as much as Tabby was expecting so her anxiety died down a little. The situation around her was pretty mellow so she didn't have to worry about either one of them getting into some sort of trouble. She relaxed a little. Toby asked her if she wanted to get a non-alcoholic drink. He figured that since it was so early, drinking alcohol wouldn't feel good. Sure some people day drank, but he didn't peg Tabby as the type to really want to. Quite a few of the patrons at the bar were drinking non-alcoholic drinks, or drinks with just a small amount.

"I'll have an alcoholic drink thank you very much", said Tabby.

Toby shrugged. Alrighty. That was fine with him. Tabby ordered some coconut rum mixed with Coca-Cola. Toby just got a soda. He didn't feel like drinking and never really drank a lot. Because Tabby is short her legs dangled off the ground as she was sitting on her bar stool. She looked around at the other people but was careful not to look for too long. Some looked normal, and others looked absolutely freakish. Their drinks were set in front of them. Toby sipped his soda. Tabby casually sipped her drink as she felt the familiar warmth rushing to her cheeks and ears. She hummed quietly as she felt somewhat content with having her a drink that reminded her of home somewhat. Toby did his best to limit his consumption of alcohol. He didn't want to end up like his dad. Nat was cleaning glasses behind the bar.

"So what do you normally do when you're not on missions and showing the new person around?", asked Tabby.

She cringed at herself internally at how awkward she was at conversation starters.

"Uh...well, I train, honestly. You really never stop learning. But when I have time for myself I do a lot of social stuff. Like come here.", said Toby awkwardly.

She tilted her head "makes sense. I like to learn a lot too. A wise person once told me that the more you know the less you have something to be afraid of. After all you can't be afraid of something if you know what that thing is" she said thoughtfully.

Toby smiled.

"Yeah, that's a good way of thinking about it." He said.

He took another sip of his drink right when his phone buzzed. Proxies had really crappy phones, usually burners, but Toby could receive texts. It was from Masky, saying that the Slenderman confirmed they could go on this mission and that they would leave in a couple of days. It would be good practice for Tabby. Tabby looked at his phone in a mixture of confusion and curiosity. Toby explained that they had been confirmed on the mission.

"So we're going then?" She asked.

She looked at herself weird "it's been awhile since I've used 'we' and 'us' terms. It's a nice change"

"Yeah, we are!" Toby said.

"And I'm guessing that since you're coming, the boss wants us in a group together." Toby seemed pretty excited at the concept.

Tabby genuinely smiled which gave a lopsided grin and gave her dimples and crinkles underneath her eyes.

"Better now than never I guess!" She was done with her drink.

Toby finished his up. He smiled. He then told her the name of the school.

"The school is called Greengrove High. It's near Rosewood, but it's not in either school district. It's a public school but has a small attendance rate."

She sighed in relief.

"Thank thy fucking lord. I know where that is, it's in Maplehood still. I'm told it's a lot like Rosewood but it's not a prestigious school. So no rich folks only problematic and semi intelligent people".

She was still thinking, "I can still show you the best ways to sneak around town and I can still get my revenge hopefully" she looked more visibly relaxed now that she thought she didn't have to protect him from Horacio.

However she still planned to keep her silent promise to protect him from bullies since she knew there were bound to be some.

She realized something.

"Hey! I don't have to wear school uniforms anymore... jesus it's been 8 years since I've been in a public school"

"Yeah! You know a lot more about the towns than we do- well I think Hoodie is pretty familiar with the town actually. I think his brother lives there. Anyways, we can meet up with them and EJ later. I think preparations are being made for us to live in a building close to the school." He said.

He laughed about the uniforms comment. "Yeah! And I won't have to wear a mask. And I can go to classes...and meet people my age..."

"But he's a doctor....I don't like doctors why are we going to see him?" she said slowly.

Some would notice and some would not but once Toby said 'meet people my age' there was a flash of jealousy on her face that quickly dissipated.

"Because he's the one who got the mission first." Toby said.

"If you tell him to back off, he will." He assured her.

Toby didn't notice. He was too caught up in his excitement. Real people! His age! And he maybe won't even have to kill them!

Tabby sighed "fair enough"

She then became more relaxed once again and spoke more softly.

"I'll be back in familiar territory again. I'll be up against people my own age who are give or take in intelligence and strength. So maybe my anxiety won't skyrocket and maybe I won't have to fight to survive another day as much"

Toby nodded.

"I don't think it will be so bad!" He sounded very optimistic about the whole situation. He couldn't wait.

Tabby gave him the same genuine lopsided grin. She absolutely adored his optimism.

Toby was excited for the whole thing.

"Plus this mission will pay super well. You would be able to afford almost anything. And...I bet the boss would pay in human cash if you wanted...".

Tabby nodded thoughtfully.

"That would definitely help me fulfill one of my promises that I made".

Toby nodded and smiled. He decided to just get a water. The soda he had gotten was already a big deviation from his regular diet. Tabby didn't order anything else one drink was enough for the day. She just quietly observed everything around her and tried to discreetly look at Toby more without making herself look more like a creep and blatantly staring. Toby finished his water. He paid for their drinks.

"So! Should we continue the tour?" He asked with a happy smile. His stomach had settled from the soda. He usually didn't drink that.

Tabby nodded her head eagerly with a smile "I'd like that very much" she slid off her bar stool to go follow him.

Toby waved bye to other people at the bar, avoiding looking at Clockwork as he led Tabby out. Tabby noticed that he avoided talking or looking at clockwork like the plague. But she quickly decided that it wasn't her place to ask questions and be privy to other people's personal information. But she made a mental note of it. She followed Toby out of the bar and into the streets. Toby led her past a couple of buildings and told her what they were.

"Oh, that's Bloody Painter's art studio. The one next to it is a med bay. The building past that is monster's only, so don't even worry about it. Next to that is BEN's 'office' area. A few shops. There's the Eastern Main Mission Center. Thankfully we're proxies so we don't use that that much. Oh, there's a training gym. You might want to head there later. It does more than train you how to fight. It's pretty cool."

She listened thoughtfully. She looked at the bloody painter's art studio. She sucked in a breath as the nostalgia of Autumn kicked in hard. Autumn would have gotten on well with the bloody painter since they were both artistic. She shook her head to clear her head.

"That's good to know. I can gain more skills and take down Horacio once and for all. The more I know and able to do the better off I am".

Toby nodded.

"Yeah! They teach you some pretty cool stuff there." He said.

"Like I learned some neat tracking tricks there."

He looked around the area. A few monsters mulled around but there were barely any proxies. Toby knew that they were close to monster territory but knew better than to take Tabby there.

She tilted her head to the right as she often did when she was being thoughtful

"That could be useful"

She noticed that there were less of...them and more of the monsters.

"I see there's less of us as we keep walking"

"Yeah, we're close to some monsters only territory." Toby said, continuing to walk and starting to speed up.

Tabby sped up with him. She kept her head down and she started to fidget with the bottom of her shirt again. She prayed that they wouldn't get into any kind of trouble. You could visibly see that she was uneasy.

"You'll be fine." Toby had noticed her unease.

"They usually don't go for proxies unless you actually step into the monsters only area. Oh look, there's Masky."

Masky was standing off to the side, chatting and laughing with some monster that Toby didn't know.

She eyed Toby suspiciously. She didn't really trust him for her own protection but she decided that her chances of survival would be better if she still stuck with him. She stood up straight and carried an emotionless expression and straightened out her shirt as she narrowed her eyes at Masky.

"Ah, the man who was about to kill me last night".

"Uh, yeah. And your new team leader." Toby said awkwardly.

They really shouldn't have any problems here as long as Tabby kept her mouth shut, which she was probably going to do until they were in a safer area. She probably knew that there wasn't much he could do if she decided to pick a fight. It would make them both seem cowardly if he intervened on her behalf again.

"Are you serious?" She said in disbelief but she kept her voice low.

She paused for a minute to asses the situation that was about to come up. Tabby was taught at a young age to know her place and keep her mouth shut. She really couldn't fight Masky since he was older and more experienced plus he had another person with him so she would be out numbered. She didn't want to drag Toby into her fights. As she specifically told him not to fight her battles for her. So she'll take the shit that Masky gives her. Tabby looked pissed but she gave Toby a look that was full of resignation and that she'll back off.

Toby nodded.

"Yeah, really." He said.

He knew that she'd be surprised when she actually talked to him later. When Masky isn't trying to kill someone, he's a really pleasant dude. He's so pleasant that sometimes Toby forgets that he's a bloodthirsty proxy.

"He'll be part of training you." Toby told her.

"And I'm sure Hoodie will help as well." He smiled awkwardly under his mouth guard.

Tabby huffed but she kept her mouth shut and crossed her arms in a defensive manner. If anything she's more passive to people that she hates that she can't beat.

"I'll learn what I can and I'll work with them but outside of that I want nothing to do with them".

"Yeah, good luck with that." Toby said with a laugh. He continued on.

"It's not funny! I'm serious!" She hissed as she ran after him to catch up.

Toby raised his eyebrows.

"It is. Just a little bit." He said good-naturedly. He slowed down a bit.

She playfully hit his arm and caught up with him. She was just fake mad at him. Toby laughed. He knew she was just teasing, and it didn't hurt anyways. Tabby was in a slightly better mood after that. So she could deal with Maskys shit a little bit easier. Toby laughed. They passed the monster's only area and were in a much safer place now. Tabby's defensiveness died down somewhat and she was semi relaxed. Toby smiled. They passed by a weird warehouse looking place. Tabby looked at the warehouse with curiosity. She realized that they have been walking for a long time now. But she didn't mind it since she was always on her feet for hours on end. Which is why she can't feel a thing the heels of her feet.

"Oh, that's where a bunch of...um...stuff goes down. You don't need to worry about it. I wouldn't advise going in there though." Toby said.

He didn't even go in there. He knew proxies who went in there and never came out.

Tabby nodded

"Well I don't plan on going in there anytime soon...or ever..." she went disturbingly quiet after that.

Toby nodded. They passed what looked like a daycare. Toby smiled a bit. He could see out in the yard. Little monster kids playing on a playground. Tabby stopped for a moment she gave a soft smile. It reminded her of when she and Adam used to go to daycare. But because Tabby was one of the older kids she would help out with the younger kids. And at the end of the day she would push Adam in his stroller on their way home if their mom was still working and if her step dad was too lazy to get them. But she didn't mind it though she enjoys taking care of Adam. Because it proves to herself that she's not a bad person contrary to what her step dad tells her. Her eyes were once again filled with a sense of nostalgia and I daresay a little bit of homesickness. Despite it not really being a good place. Toby smiled. He remembered when he first came here. He was surprised that people like them could have families here. He was under the impression that most, if not all of them, were created by their bosses. But then he learned more and learned that most proxies were born here and raised here and trained here. It was...weirdly sweet. Tabby realized that she missed her little brother and she hoped that he wouldn't be dragged into her new fucked up lifestyle. She also hoped that he would be okay without her. Well he was going to have to be whether he liked it or not. In order to take care of him she needed to take care of herself. She deemed it as a form of tough love.

"Hey Toby I have another question", she piped up.

"Yeah, what's up?" Toby asked as they passed by the daycare.

They passed a few places that looked like houses and a park-like area. He glanced around. Basically no one was outside. That was great.

"I know that relationships with other humans is ....prohibited...but would it be okay if every now and then if I were to go up to the human world and just periodically check up on...this person...just stalking in a distance no interactions whatsoever?", she asked.

Toby seemed to stare off into the distance for a bit. He looked...sad.

"Yeah...I suppose it's okay, but only if you don't tell anyone. Especially your boss."

Toby seemed to be lost in thought. In reality he was thinking about his mother.

Tabby nodded.

"Well I don't plan on telling anyone else...so yeah"

She realized that Toby was deep in thought because she does the exact same thing he does when she is deep in thought.

"Hey, are you okay?" She said slowly.

"Huh?" Toby seemed to snap out of it.

"Oh yeah, yeah I'm fine." He said. He tried to give her a reassuring smile as he checked his watch.

"Oh, damn. It's a lot later than I thought it was."

She gave him a look that said 'I don't believe you' but she let it go. She learned that in order to keep a friend you don't push shit.

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No." Toby said. He furrowed his brows.

"We probably should eat something. But only if you're hungry. If you're not, we could try some training or something."

"I'm not hungry yet. We could try some training. It's either now or never" she said eagerly.

Toby looked sort of excited.

"Okay. To preface this I can't teach you everything. There's some stuff I don't know how to do. You'll have to get either Masky or Hoodie to teach you those things, okay?"

He turned and began making his way back to the gym. They could train there. Unless Tabby wanted to stay outside where it was hot enough to fry an egg on the pavement.

"Fair enough" she followed Toby to the gym.

Toby was quick, so he got there a little before Tabby did. He was kind of excited. Tabby ran to meet him there. She was actually very fast and wasn't out of breath when she caught up to him at the gym entrance. Toby opened the door for her. Air conditioning blasted through the door way. The gym smelled like a combination of heavy air freshener, sweat, and blood.

"This smells like the gym at Rosewood" said Tabby out of nowhere.

Toby laughed. "Well I mean I figure all gyms smell the same."

Tabby tilted her head to the right

"Well the gym at Maplehood elementary school smelled like fresh lemons and dirty gym socks".

"Gross." Toby wrinkled his nose but smiled.

He led her past the check in desk. That was only for if they wanted the higher tech training things or if they wanted to sign up for a class. He led her into the main room. There were quite a few people, all of whom were training. There was a small arena off to the side where two men were fighting each other rather aggressively with knives. There was a station near the middle with what seemed like flashcards and little trays of things. There was a rope course up on the ceiling, with the only access point being a climbing rope. There were weights, training dummies, and human-shaped cutouts that served as targets, all in various states of disrepair. Toby knew the better training gym was about two hours from this location, but it was still decent. If they wanted the better stuff, they had to sign in.

"So where do you want to start?" She said as she took off her jacket and set on a near by bench and tightened up her ponytail.

"Hm. Well, I'm not too good at long distance stuff. You'll have to ask Hoodie for that." Toby mused. He glanced at the rock wall, but figured that with her messed up hand, that wouldn't be too nice. A female proxy was working at the station near the middle.

"Oh, you said you wanted to learn plant stuff, right?"

Tabby nodded her head eagerly "yeah I did why?"

Toby led her to the middle station. In the little containers were different kinds of plants from the human world and from the monster world. It was a type of memory game. Tabby is awful at memory but she did recognize all of the plants from the human world due to books and growing up in the woods. She recognized a few plants from here from the book that she was currently reading. But in time she learned what the majority of plants were and their uses. After 5-6 tries. Tabby was getting quicker and better at the memory game after an hour. Toby was happy about that. He wasn't all too good with this sort of plant stuff. Tabby was satisfied when she got the hang of it and went back over to Toby.

Toby smiled.

"Cool! Er, you can choose what you want to learn next, okay?" He was new to the whole training thing.

"Well...I'm pretty good close range fighting...Although I don't really have any grace...my skills are pretty unorthodox....I'm good with weapons but they're harder to control than fists...", she was self analyzing herself.

"Well, we can work on that!" Toby said happily.

"I think I will be able to help you clean up your moves and whatnot." Toby seemed pretty excited.

"Also one of the trainers here is missing an arm. He could show you some cool stuff that I probably couldn't."

"Use every body part if you can in a fight or any blunt object you can get your hands on if it turned into that" she said with a shrug.

"Yeah, that's pretty good advice." Toby said. He had no idea where to start.

"Well at Rosewood I was a known fighter and straight A student. Other kids always tried to pick fights with me once they knew I could make Horacio turn tail. Often times it started out as fist fights, then weapons and then just dirty unfair fighting. So I learned quickly to be well rounded"

She nodded her head and turned to look at Toby.

"I know how to break someone's arm in 3 different places with one move. I could show it to you if you want" she said excitedly. Toby laughed. "Maybe later. And not on me, please. Just because I can't feel any pain doesn't mean that I can't be messed up." He grinned. He glanced over at a knife throwing station. He saw an older proxy there, a tall, very buff woman with lots of tattoos. He watched. She nailed each target with deadly accuracy. Her curly light brown, almost blonde hair was in a tight ponytail.

Tabby quickly "oh no no I'm not actually going to break your arm but I can walk you through the motions"

She looked confused when he said he couldn't feel pain

"How and why?"

"It's fine! Maybe later." Toby had responded. He didn't really feel like explaining CIPA at the moment so he just said that that was what he had and he couldn't feel pain because of it,

Tabby nodded slowly and gave him an unsure look "alrighty then" she decided to change the subject

"So who's that lady over there?" She pointed to the one throwing knives.

"That's Laura." Toby said.

"She's one of the older proxies. She's sort of like a cool aunt. She is also incredibly deadly so I wouldn't mess with her. She's pretty chill though."

"She's sounds cool" said Tabby tilted her head in thought.

"I have pretty good precision when it comes to throwing things Although my accuracy is a hit or miss more times than not"

"Nice. Laura does a lot of work with people regarding accuracy with knives and guns. She was the one that trained Hoodie on it."

She nodded and paused for a minute "would it be okay if I asked her to help me practice better?" She looked warily at the stranger.

"Yeah, it would!" Toby knew Laura was pretty decent. She had a good reputation of only beating up people who deserved it.

She gave Toby a look that said "I don't really trust you with this" she looked at the stranger with the same look. But if she wanted to learn which she did then she was going to have to push away her social anxiety and seek out the help herself. She gave Toby a curt nod and recompose herself. She stood up straight and kept her neutral expression which was a bored, slightly put upon expression. She walked up to Laura. She cleared her throat.

"Excuse me?" She said in a polite tone but still assertive enough to catch her attention. She held her breath and prayed that she wouldn't hit her or attack her in any way.

Laura turned, and glanced at her. She had the same level of suspicion, but then noticed the certain look Tabby had. A new proxy. She could tell just by looking at her and the way she stood. Her distrustful posture eased away and she offered her a smile.

"Oh. Hey. You need something?" It was instinctual. She couldn't help it.

Tabby shifted uncomfortably but still stood her ground. Her suspicion and defensive posture dropped a little as Laura's suspicion dropped too. She gave a small polite smile in return.

"Hello. My name is Tabby, I saw that you were good at throwing knives with good precision and and accuracy. I'm pretty good myself my precision is good but my accuracy is a hit or miss more often than not. I was wondering if you could give me some pointers" she looked down waiting for the rejection of 'get lost kid you're not worth my time'. She still proceeded with wary and caution during the interaction.

"Sure thing, kid." Laura said with an indulging look in her eyes.

She stepped back.

"First, let me see you throw." She said. Her voice was rough but not aggressive. Her tattoos seemed to ripple and move even when she stood perfectly still. She wasn't the type to tell people to get lost. If they were respectful, she would teach them. She handed Tabby some throwing knives.

Tabby took the knife into her right hand. She held it in the correct way to throw. She turned her head a little to get better aim. She adjusted her arm and threw the knife with a flick of her wrist. It it the bullseye due to the centripetal force from the flick of her wrist. Her voice reminded her of her mom with her gruff exterior. For a moment she had a flash of homesickness. She looked at Laura expectantly waiting for some critique. Tabby threw a few more using the same motions and her wide stance for foundation. One landed way outside of the bullseye and the other landed a couple of rings over to the left of the bullseye. She looked back a Laura apologetically.

Laura nodded slowly. She saw her problems.

"The wide stance only works if you're facing your target head on. That's why you missed the ones off to the side."

Laura then got into her own stance.

"Try this one. It's more versatile and it also allows you to react quicker to threats not coming after you head on." Laura was smiling softly.

Tabby reminded her of- no. There could be someone who could read her thoughts here. She mustn't think about that.

"Oh so you're saying if I shortened my stance a little it would work better? Like this?" She shortened her stance and threw one of the knives with a flick of her wrist. And it hit the bullseye straight on. She copied Laura's stance.

"Mhm." Laura nodded.

"It also makes it easier to do something like this-"

She pulled out a throwing knife and whipped around. The knife stabbed someone's apple, shot it out of their hands and impaled it into the wall. Laura grinned. That was a teammate of hers and they always messed around like that. He laughed, then flipped Laura off, which Laura returned before turning back to Tabby.

Tabby grinned and laughed "I'm good but I don't think I have enough coordination for that".

"You can get there. Coordination is mostly training anyways, only a bit of it is natural ability." Laura smiled at Tabby.

"Anything else?"

"Good to know" she smiled and thought about it "I think I'm good for right now. But if I think of anything else I'll let you know"

Laura nodded. She understood. She gave the girl a smile and turned back to the targets. She was glad to help. Tabby walked back over to Toby with a satisfied grin.

Toby smiled.

"Well, that went well." He said.

Tabby nodded excitedly "yeah who knew that it was all in the stance".

"Yeah! A lot of it is. Laura is also really good at showing people how to do it because she's trained a lot of people."

"Well that's good".

"I think I had enough training for now and I'm kinda hungry".

"Okay! We can go get something to eat." Toby said

Tabby nodded and began to walk out of the gym with Toby. Toby was feeling a bit peckish as well. He figured there were a few restaurants nearby. Tabby was looking around at her surroundings more being lost in thought. Toby thought he noticed someone in the shadows but ignored it. Tabby had the felt like she was being watched from someone or something in the shadows. She wasn't sure if it was her paranoia, being delusional from lack of sleep, or just the darkness of Rosewood following her. She chalked it up a mixture of all 3. However Tabby was a little more on edge as her Intuition was screaming at her to watch out. Toby felt out, feeling with his mind, trying to sense if it was another proxy as the shadow was humanoid. Proxies, for the most part, knew when other proxies were in the area. They were all connected in a sort of hivemind. When a proxy was in danger, everyone tuning in knew about it. Most experienced proxies were able to tune it out, but Toby still wasn't able to. The presence didn't feel like a proxy. Tabby quickened her pace.

"Maybe if I ignore it and out speed it. It would go away" she said in thought.

She had her arms to carry her books and her hands in opposite pockets. She had both knives in the correct position in her hands just in case.

Despite the figure keeping close to the shadows, Toby noticed that it was trying to keep out of sight. It was scared. It seemed to be shuffling, like it was hurt. But the figure wasn't heading anywhere towards a med bay. Toby remembered the scene from earlier with the human who had gotten down into this place. What if…

Tabby's paranoia was skyrocketing. She was a little bit tense and jumpy. Even though her eyes were on the ground they were darting all over the place. She didn't say anything and kept up the fast pace.

"Whoever it is is just as scared as you." Toby mumbled to Tabby.

Jane passed them on the other side of the street, an arm filled with groceries. She too looked into the alleyway, and quickly went in.

Toby sighed. "She's got it."

She snapped her head up to the point where you heard her neck crack and it probably sounded painful. She winced for a moment before narrowing her eyes at him and sounding defensive

"I'm not scared. I'm cautious there's a difference".

Toby raised his eyebrows and said nothing.

"Come on. Let's go." He said, just leading her along. There was no point in lingering.

She looked back down and continued walking. Toby knew he would ask Jane about it later. She made it a point to stay closer to him just in case. But not enough to be obnoxious about it.

"We could go back to Clockwork's bar for something or maybe go somewhere else to eat”.

"We can go somewhere else. I mean it's not like we have anything better to do" she shrugged.

Toby nodded. "I have a strict diet I need to stick to though."

"Fair enough"

Toby thought for a bit about places they could go to. Meanwhile tabby was lost in her own thoughts. On top of processing what tf happened last night, figuring out what her next move would me, surviving today, planning Horacio's death, missing her friends, mom, and little brother. She was thinking about something that she never thought that she could have. A future. Tabby was good at thinking long term for her choices. But not when it comes to herself. But looking around and seeing other establishments and older people. It made her realize that maybe she can live long enough to maybe perhaps open up her own restaurant per say. Food has always been her passion and she has experience and joy in working in a kitchen. Or maybe to just live out the rest of her life. If she lived long enough. That thought put a little seed of hope in her head and gave her a tiny bit of her will to live back. Tabby looked like she was zoned out which means that she was in deep thought. Toby found a restaurant nearby and led Tabby in. It was some random hole in the wall ran by a couple monsters. Tabby looked around at her surroundings she had a warm smile on her face from nostalgia. It reminded her of the restaurant she used to work at. Even though she was in the back of the kitchen. She always enjoyed the praise of customers when they like the food that she made. It was nice to be back in a familiar surrounding. The place smelled nice, and it was warm. The tables were somewhat crowded together and in a bit of a disarray. You would seat yourself here. Toby found a small table near the corner where they could sit. Tabby sat in the corner with her back facing the wall. That way there was no chance of anyone attacking her from behind and she can see what everyone else is doing.

"This is nice. It reminds me of where I used to work".

"Oh, cool!" Toby said with a smile. He had gotten them both menus.

Tabby nodded and looked on the menu to figure out what she wanted. Toby would probably get a salad and a water. He didn't trust much of the meat here. Especially since there was a cannibal section. Tabby would get a salad too since she really didn't trust food being made by other people unless she was watching them or if she was making it herself. But she figured that nothing can really go wrong with a salad. The place was crowded so Toby highly doubted the food would be poisoned. He also got a water and had one of the single use poison detectors with him to use just in case. He had picked one up as he got a menu. Tabby got a water too and she was quite happy to see the single use poison detectors. Toby glanced around. No one was paying much attention to them except for a little monster boy in a highchair. He was a chubby little thing with a round face and tiny nubby horns. Tabby smiled softly at the monster baby. It reminded her of her little brother who was a chubby little thing when he was born. Now he has more of a stocky build but he still has a little baby fat left. The little monster baby was babbling to what appeared to be his mother. He had a toy giraffe in his hand, or what used to look like a giraffe. It had been chewed so much. Tabby giggled and looked away. She didn't want to cause too much trouble. She was looking out the window now.

A waiter soon came to take their order. It was a ghost. Which made sense. A lot of ghosts wanted to spend eternity not being bored so a lot of em got jobs. Tabby ordered a chicken salad and a water. Toby ordered what he had planned on ordering. Tabby realized that it was a ghost as she's always been able to see the whole range of paranormal shit. She then looked sad and in thought. She knew ghosts were real. And she knew damn well that the majority of her friends didn't pass over yet since they all died a brutal death. So how come none of them tried to make contact with her to let her know that at least some of them were okay. Especially Autumn. She was sure that she would find a way to contact her. Anyway at all. But it's been a month and nothing. Tabby had her legs crossed and had her hands neatly in her lap as her leg was casually bouncing from being anxious and she was looking out the window. Toby was deep in thought. He looked out the window. He saw Jane hurriedly leading someone along. They had a placeholder mask on, which was weird because Toby could sense that they weren't a proxy.

Tabby said quietly, "isn't that the guy who was following us?".

"I think so”.

She tilted her head to the right thinking "they must be just as nerve racked as I was yesterday when I came here".

"But then again I'm always nerve racked".

Toby nodded. He had suspicions and he voiced them to Tabby. "I think whoever it is might be a human who got in here."

"What makes you say that? And why are they still here then? Can't Jane and them get into trouble?"

"Because I can't sense them. And yes, they could. They both could be killed, which is why we gotta shut up and ask them in private."

Tabby immediately closed her mouth and nodded. She looked down at her lap.

Toby nodded. "We can ask her later."

"Okay" she said quietly.

Soon their food arrived at their table. Toby tested his food and water. No poison. Awesome. Tabby waited for her turn. She eyed her food and water suspiciously. She smelled it first just in case if she could tell if something was off with the food.

Toby handed her a testing stick. "Oh-here”.

It took Tabby a couple of tries and inspecting the thing weirdly and letting out a few quiet 'oh...oh that's how it works' when her eyes light up with realization as she was figuring out how it works. Her food wasn't poisoned thank god so she was happily munching down on the salad. Toby ate his pretty quickly. He was pretty hungry honestly. As he sipped his water, he looked around. He saw the family with the little monster baby. He saw what was obviously a group of proxies about to start a mission. He saw an awkward first date. Tabby saw the same thing. Tabby scarfed down her food like she wouldn't see food ever again like a ravenous animal. Tabby realized that this is something that people would do on a first date like what she would read about and see on tv. They would go out to eat and make small talk. Which means that would make Toby her first date. She stopped functioning for a minute as she blushed a little at the thought. She held her cheek in her hand with her elbow propped onto the table as she looked out the window to hide the blush that was spreading to her ears. Tabby was done with her salad and was drinking the water in an attempt to stop her blush. Toby didn't notice. He honestly hadn't thought of it that way. He didn't watch that much TV, or even movies. He simply finished his water. Her blush died down a lot. She finished her water.

"Are you done with your food. Because I am".

"Oh yeah, I am. I just need to pay and we can leave." Toby said.

"Okay" she said quietly as she picked everything up and put it in a neat, organized pile so that way it would be easier for the servers to pick up.

Toby got up to go to the front to pay. A server came by and picked up all the plates. Tabby thanked them and walked with Toby out the door. Toby felt a lot better after eating. He was still a little curious about what had been going on earlier. He wanted to ask Jane. Tabby kept to herself and walked quietly with him. She really didn't see the point in talking unless she was spoken too or if she was really interested in something. She looked over at Toby trying to be discreet about it taking in all of his features. Toby was deep in thought. It was hard to see his face as he was wearing his mouth guard and goggles. If Jane had saved a human's life, she would be risking her own. Tabby was spacing out. Her head was empty for once. Which meant some peace and quiet for her for a little while at least. Finally. Toby had found his way back to the apartment. He was just about to open the door for them both when he noticed he had a message waiting for him. Tabby walked in and looked at the note curiously but didn't pry too much. Toby read it. It was from Masky, setting a time for when they would meet up the next day.

Tabby raised an eyebrow "does it say anything important?".

"It's just when and where we're meeting up with the rest of the group tomorrow." Toby said.

"The group being Masky, Hoodie, you, EJ, and anyone else put on this mission with us."

Tabby nodded and sighed and groaned when she heard Maskys name "ugh...him? I hate him...." She went to her room to put away her books and came back out.

Toby laughed a bit. "You might want to give him a second chance. He's actually kind of decent. A bit of a dork, actually, but don't tell him I said that."

She gave him a small smile "don't worry I ain't a snitch. Your secret is safe with me"

Toby laughed a bit. Then sighed. It was nice to be in the air conditioning.

"So now what?" She asked as she rubbed her arm awkwardly.

"Well, we could go out again and find something to do, we could go do something in the human world, or we could just chill here."

"I don't really care it's up to you".

"I got what I wanted out of today so I'm good".

"Okay, fair enough. Well if you don't care, I'm going to go talk to Jane about what we saw earlier. You can come if you want but if you don't, that's chill."

"I'll go I'm curious as well"

"Okay, awesome." Toby said.

Tabby re tightened her ponytail. "Let's go”

13 notes · View notes

hopelikethemoon · 5 years ago

Text

The Aftermath (Javier x Reader) {MTMF}

Title: The Aftermath Rating: PG-13 Length: 4000 Warnings: Pregnancy Complications (Ecelempsia, Seizures, lots and lots of medical discussions in this one) Notes: You can find the Maybe Today, Maybe Forever Timeline here. Set June 1997. This is a really heavy chapter, ya’ll. As always I will assure you that things will be okay. But if you are at all triggered by pregnancy complications, discussion of seizures, medical discussions, or the effects of not being able to breast feed you might want to just skim. Summary: Javier grapples with the complications around Sofia’s birth.

Taglist: @grapemama @seawhisperer @huliabitch @pedropascalito @rogrsnbarnes @thewallpapergoesorido @twomoonstwosuns @gooddaykate @livasaurasrex @ham4arrow @hiscyarika @plexflexico @readsalot73 @hdlynn @lokiaddicted @randomness501 @fioccodineveautunnale @roxypeanut @just-add-butter @snivellusim @amarvelousmandalorian @lukesrighthand @historynerd04 @mrsparknuts @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @exrebelshocktrooper @awesomefandomsunited @ah-callie @swhiskeys @lady-tano @beskar-droids @space-floozy @cable-kenobi @longitud-de-onda @cool-ultra-nerd @himbopoes @findhimfives @pedrosdoll @seeking-a-great--perhaps @frietiemeloen @arrowswithwifi @random066

“You’ve got to hold it together, Javi.” Chucho told Javier, his fingers curling around his shoulder tightly. “You’ve got Josie and Sofía. They need their father.”

“She needs me too.” Javier hissed out, jerking his shoulder out from his father’s grasp. He knew what his father was trying to remind him. He didn’t want to lash out at him, but fuck. How was he supposed to think about the girls in a context where they wouldn’t have their mother? He couldn’t let those thoughts get to him.

He raked his fingers through his hair, before he rose to his feet. “Where the fuck is the doctor?”

“She’s gonna be okay, Javi.” Steve assured him, looking up at him from where he was sitting. “When has she ever let something like this bullshit get the best of her?”

Javier swallowed thickly, stopping mid-pace. “After all the shit she’s been through…” He really wanted to punch something. But he couldn’t really risk breaking his fucking hand. That wasn’t going to help with his guilt. Fuck. There was so much guilt. So much of the shit that she went through in Colombia had been his fault.

And the stress. The goddamn stress was all his fault. She wouldn’t be laid up in the hospital if he hadn’t pushed a stressful situation onto her. He should’ve left the DEA shit alone. Somehow he’d managed to fuck up the birth of their second child. God, if he lost her....

The waiting room door opened slowly, a doctor appearing in the doorway. “Mr. Peña?” Javier couldn’t tell if the doctor had grim news or if the son of a bastard was born with that dourer expression.

Steve stood up, clapping Javier on the shoulder. “We’re here for you.” He said something else, but Javier wasn’t entirely certain what it was. Everything seemed to focus in on the doctor who was waiting for him. Steve and Chucho felt like they were at the far end of a tunnel, the distance obscuring their voices.

Javier waited for the waiting room door to close behind him before he spoke, “How is she? Can I see her?”

“She’s stable.” The doctor told him calmly, guiding him across the hall to a private room. He’d seen families come out of that same room with bad news. He truly felt like he was going to be sick.

The doctor waited for Javier to sit, before he continued. “We have her sedated currently. Once we get her settled into her new room, I can take you down to sit with her.”

He swallowed thickly. “Are we out of the woods?”

The doctor shook his head. “Not yet. Despite our best efforts, there were complications. She suffered a mild seizure, which was to be expected given her condition. Fortunately, the CT scan didn’t show any damage from the episode. We’ll get her scheduled for a MRI and prepped for a PET scan in the coming days.” He offered Javier a sympathetic smile. “As much as I’d love to send the three of you home tomorrow, we’re going to need to keep her for observation for a few more days.”

Javier nodded slowly, trying to process everything the doctor had just told him. So many scans and the potential for something being wrong. Really wrong. “I just want her to come home.”

“She’s a fighter, Mr. Peña.”

“I know she is.” A brief smile spread over his lips. “She’s fucking incredible.”

“And we’re going to make sure she goes home.” The doctor promised him. “We’ve already started her on some hydralazine intravenously. It’s already started getting her blood pressure under control.”

“Good.”

“After she’s released she’s going to have to monitor the hypertension. She’ll be prescribed medicine to help stabilize it, but she won’t be able to breastfeed.”

Javier nodded slowly. At least the doctor was talking about the after. Going home. That sounded positive.

“Have you been down to the nursery to see your daughter?”

“No.” He rubbed at his forehead. “My pops went to see her.” Everything had been perfect.

Sofía was gorgeous.

They let him cut the umbilical cord. They let him be such an active participant in their daughter’s birth. Everything had been going in the right direction.

But she didn’t look right.

She was exhausted, which was understandable, but her coloring was all wrong. She looked weak.

And then the seizure.

Javier wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to get that memory out of his head. It was worse than watching her bleed out on the ground.

It had been maybe three hours. Maybe five.

He hadn’t seen either of them since.

“When do you think I’ll be able to sit with her?”

The doctor’s brows furrowed as he stared at him. “Here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to call down to the nursery and have them bring your daughter up to her room. That might be good for the three of you.”

Javier swallowed thickly and nodded. “Alright.”

“I’ll have a nurse come and get you from the waiting room.”

“Thank you.”

——

It was another two hours before the nurse came to get him.

Steve had gone home to help Connie with the girls and Chucho looked worn out, he wasn’t easily convinced to leave. Eventually, Javier won out because Stevie needed to be let out and he knew Monica had work.

It felt wrong to care about anything outside of the hospital, but he knew she’d kill him if anything happened to that damned dog.

But then the nurse came and he was ushered to her room. The floor was eerily quiet — it was after visiting hours, but the doctor had made special arrangements just for him. Even in the worst situation of his life, at least the hospital was treating him like he belonged.

She looked awful. Hooked up to machines and monitors. Wires running from her hands, little censors stuck to her temples.

“We’ve started decreasing her sedatives,” The nurse explained to him. “We’re still waiting for the doctor to look at her MRI—“ That must’ve been why it took so long. “But everything is looking really good, Mr. Peña.”

The nurse gestured to the burgundy vinyl-covered reclining chair in the corner of the room. “We brought this in for you. In case you wanted to stay.”

“I do.”

Javier looked away from her then, his eyes drawn to the bassinet Sofía was in. He knew he had to focus on her as well. She needed him just as much as her mother did.

“When was the last time she ate?” He asked the nurse, moving towards the bassinet to pick up the swaddled infant. She cooed softly as she woke up and his heart melted. “It’s alright, daddy’s got you.” He whispered as he cradled her against his chest.

“Half hour ago.” The nurse smiled. “Do you have other children, Mr. Peña?”

He nodded. “We have another daughter. She just turned four.”

“What a fun age.” She gestured towards Sofía. “If you need any help or if anything happens, there’s a call button on the bed. You’ll get one of us on the floor in here.”

“Thank you.”

Javier kept Sofía cradled against his chest as he moved towards the hospital bed. It broke his fucking heart to see her like this. There was nothing peaceful about being sedated. He had seen peaceful sleep on her and this wasn’t it.

“You’ve got to wake up for us, baby.” He said gently as he gingerly curled his fingers around her unresponsive hand. “I don’t think you really got to see how beautiful Sofía is. She’s perfect just like her mother.” Javier looked between the two of them. “She reminds me so much of Josie at this age. She’s so little.”

Javier sniffed quietly, trying not to cry. But he’d been holding it in for hours now. And there was a lump of emotion wedged in the back of his throat. Raw and painful. How was he expected not to cry when the love of his life was fighting for her life?

He settled Sofía back down in the bassinet, before pulling the rolling stool over to her bedside. “This better be the last time I have to see you laid up like this, baby. I fucking hate it.” He took her hand again, rubbing his thumb over the back of her knuckles. “We’re not doing this again. We’ve got two daughters. We don’t need any more kids.” He lifted her hand up as he leaned over to kiss the back of her hand. “I’ll get the snip tomorrow, if it means never putting you in this position again.”

Some machine beeped, making Javier jump a little. He glanced up, brows furrowed as he studied the monitors beside her. “They told me they’re decreasing the sedatives they have you on. I think that means you’re going to wake up soon.” Javier told her, squeezing her hand. “I wish I knew if you could hear me.” He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand.

Javier stood up, leaning over the bed so he could press a kiss to her forehead, his fingers tenderly brushing over her cheek. “You did such an amazing job delivering her, baby. I’m in awe of you. Your strength.” He let his nose brush over her forehead as he sighed.

He studied her face, hoping to see some flicker of alertness. He knew she was going to wake up — she had to. But he wanted to talk to her now. It had been hours. He’d lost track of the time.

“I’m so sorry, baby. This is all my fault.” He raked his fingers through his hair as he sank back on the stool. “I set all of this into motion. I should’ve known better, starting this shit while you were pregnant…” He shook his head.

Javier pressed his face into his hands, letting the tears finally fall. It had been such an emotional day. The elation of seeing his daughter born, giving way to the fear of losing the woman he loved.

The reality of the social worker meeting with him. Going over what his role as her POA meant, ensuring he understood what wishes she had made known in the document. His father had listened, because he hadn’t. He had been in shock.

He couldn’t lose her. He’d lose his fucking mind if he went home to a house that didn’t have her in it.

And it would be his fault.

Sofía started fussing in her bassinet and Javier went to pick her up. “Are you hungry, sweetheart?” He questioned as he looked down at her. She had the longest lashes he’d ever seen on a baby. A nose just like her mother.

Javier hit the help button on her bed, waiting for a nurse to turn up so he could tell them Sofía needed formula.

He sat on the rolling stool beside her bed, feeding Sofía and talking to them both. He told his daughter all about how brave her mother was, how good she was. How much he hoped both of his children ended up like their mother. She was far too good for him.

Javier went through the bag of clothes she’d brought with her to go home. Not tomorrow. Not like they had planned.

“There it is.” He smiled as he saw the stuffed dog that Josie had made certain she had with her. “Baby, if you wake up I’ll get you another dog. I know how much you love having Stevie.”

He moved back over to the bed. Javier lifted her hand up and tucked the toy into her palm. “Josie wanted to make sure you had this, baby. It’s Bruno.”

Her fingers twitched faintly and he swore his heart skipped a beat.

“I’m right here.” He curled his hand around hers, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand. “I love you, baby. Just rest, okay?”

Her fingers twitched again, coupled with her lashes fluttering.

“Hey.” Javier whispered, staring at her face. Looking for a sign that she was waking up. Three short squeezes, weak but there.

“I love you too, baby.” He smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. “I’m right here with you. I’m not going anywhere.”

Her lips parted, inhaling shakily. “W-where is she?” Her voice was hoarse, barely recognisable as her own.

“She’s sleeping.” Javier brushed his thumb over her cheek. “Do you want to see her?”

“Yeah.” She mumbled, her eyes still closed. “Feel weird.”

“You’ve been through hell the last few hours.” Javier said as he reluctantly left her bedside to pick up Sofía. “She’s beautiful.” He told her as he walked back over to the bedside, brows furrowed as he looked down at her. “You gotta open your eyes, baby.”

“Just wanna... hold her.” She said wearily.

Javier frowned when she just laid there motionlessly. She was still clearly under the effects of the sedative.

“I’m just gonna lay her on your chest, okay baby?”

“Yeah.”

He carefully maneuvered Sofía, keeping a hand on her back as he laid her against her chest. Sofía opened her eyes, cooing quietly as her little fingers grabbed at the hospital gown beneath her. “That’s your mommy, baby girl.” He whispered.

“I’m so tired.” She whispered, her lashes fluttered a faint glimpse of her eyes before they fell closed again.

Javier reached out and took her hand, lifting it up gently to hold it against Sofía’s back. “Do you think you can hold her?”

Her fingers twitched as she flexed them, spreading them out across her little back. “She’s tiny.”

“Two ounces smaller than Josie.” He smiled at her as her eyes opened, though they were still heavy and groggy. “You did so good, baby.”

“Did I?” She blinked slowly, her eyes very unfocused as she looked at him. Her fingers moved again, weakly brushing over the blanket Sofía was wrapped in. “Javi…”

“I’m right here, baby.”

“Take her. I don’t want to drop her.”

“Whatever you want, baby.” Javier leaned over the bed to scoop their daughter up, moving to put Sofía back in her bassinet. He stared down at her, fingers brushing over her cheek as she blinked slowly before falling back to sleep. He remembered how much Josie slept the night after she went home that first night.

“I feel weird.”

He turned back to look at the bed, “Do you want me to call for the nurse.” Javier was already at her bedside, primed to press the call button.

“They’ll give me more…” She gestured vaguely to her IV. “Wanna stay awake.”

“You need to rest, baby.” He insisted, reaching out to cup her cheek. “But I don’t want them to sedate you again either. I missed your eyes.”

She laughed quietly, sinking back into her pillow. “My eyes?”

Javier nodded slowly. “Yeah. I was afraid you’d never open them again.”

“And leave you to raise two daughters?” A weak smirk quirked at the corners of her lips.

“I wouldn’t be able to cope without you.”

She raised a brow, even as her eyes flickered closed. “Calm down, Romeo.”

“Really?”

“Really.” She turned her head towards him and grinned as she opened her eyes slowly. She looked down then, picking up the stuffed dog that was still laying in her bed. “Was Josie here?”

“No.” Javier frowned. “She gave it to you to pack, remember?”

“Right.” She said distantly as she sat the toy back down.

“Do you not remember that?”

“Everything is a little hazy,” She admitted, reaching up to touch the nasal cannula in her nose. “I fucking hate this shit.”

“Oxygen is good for you.”

She rolled her eyes.

“There’s the woman I know and love.”

“I’d flip you off but....” She taunted, staring at him a little harder then. “You look like shit.”

“It’s been a fucking awful day, baby.” Javier pushed his fingers through his hair. “But they gave me this hideous chair over there to sleep in.”

“You should sleep.”

“Don’t worry about me.” He shook his head. “This is about you. You’re the one who scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry.” She reached out and curled her fingers around his where they were curled around the side of her bed.

“Why the hell are you apologizing?”

She shrugged, “I dunno.”

“Well, don’t.” He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’m gonna get the nurse, alright? I think they were waiting for results. MRI? CT scan. One of them.”

“Did someone let Stevie out?”

Javier shook his head incredulously, “Yeah, pops went to stay with her.”

“Good.” She smiled up at him. “I feel worse than I did when I got shot.”

“You had a seizure.”

“I did?” Her brows drew together, confusion marring her features.

Javier nodded. “Is everything hazy?”

She lowered her gaze, picking at a piece of fuzz on her blanket. “Yeah. Tell them not to give me whatever they’re giving me. I feel really weird.”

“You just have to stay calm. Okay?” Javier reminded her, reaching you press the button to call for the nurse. “That’s the key thing. Okay? If you keep your blood pressure down you’ll get to go home.”

“Home sounds nice.” She smiled at him, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Javier glanced at the door as it opened, “She woke up.”

The nurse beamed, “That’s great news, Mr. Peña.” She looked towards the hospital bed then, “How are you feeling?”

“As bad as he looks.” She quipped, looking at him as she reached for his hand.

He squeezed her hand. “Nurse, she’s having… not memory loss, exactly but… confusion? Is that the medicine?”

The nurse checked her vitals before putting them up on the whiteboard across from the bed. “That may just be the sedation, but there is always the chance that she may also be experiencing side effects from the seizure. The doctor will discuss the postictal phase when he comes down.”

She looked towards the hospital bed then, “Let’s do a little memory test, shall we?” She tapped the dry erase marker against the board. “Do you know what your daughter’s name is?”

“Joséfina Peña.” She answered and the nurse frowned.

“Our older daughter,” Javier explained.

The nurse nodded and wrote the name out on the board.

“She has an accent above the ‘e’.” She corrected the nurse. “And it’s ‘f’ not ‘ph’.”

“Do you know your newborn’s name?”

“Sofía.” She rubbed her lips together slowly. “With an ‘f’ and an accent over the ‘i’.” She looked towards Javier there. “We named her after Javi’s mother.”

“Do you know what day it is?”

She shook her head. “I think… I came in on the thirtieth.”

“Thirty-first.” Javier squeezed her hand, before glancing back at the nurse.

“It’s June second.” She supplied.

“Shit.”

“It’s okay, baby.”

“When was she born?”

“The first.”

She laughed quietly. “May first and June first.”

“Easy to remember.” Javier leaned down and kissed her forehead. “You’re doing so good.”

“Do you have any pets?” The nurse questioned.

“A dog. Stevie Nicks.”

“Very good.” The nurse wrote the names up on the whiteboard before making a big square around ‘PLANS FOR TODAY’. “It looks like the doctor still wants you to get that PET scan today. Once we get that over with you are one step closer to going home. We’ve just got to keep that blood pressure down.”

“How is it?” Javier questioned.

“Good. Still a little high, but nowhere near as high as it was when she came in.”

Sofía started crying and she sat up quickly, looking towards the bassinet. “She needs food. She sounds just like Josie when she was hungry.”

“I know.” Javier cradled her to his chest, but he wasn’t giving her what she wanted.

The nurse looked a little anxious. “Now, due to the medicine you’re currently on you’re not going to be able to breastfeed for a little while, okay?”

“Oh.” She sank back against the pillows, “Can I… is there formula?” She questioned, looking around the room.

“I can get that.” The nurse excused herself from the room then.

“I know this fucking sucks.” Javier offered as he passed Sofía to her mother. She seemed stronger now, able to hold her without his assistance. “It’s not at all how we planned it…”

“It never is.” She said quietly as she looked down at Sofía, brushing her fingertips against her forehead. “She’s so little. Is she smaller than Josie was?”

“She is.” Javier rested his hand against hers. “She looks so much like her big sister.”

“I’m sorry.” She glanced up at him. “I know this isn’t… this isn’t what you wanted.”

“Hey, hey. No.” He reached out and brushed away the stray tear that slid down her cheek. “None of that, baby. No. All I care about is the two of you being healthy. You could’ve given birth in the back of our car and I’d still be the happiest man alive.”

She inhaled raggedly, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. “Can you take her?”

“Of course.” Javier cradled the back of her head as he picked Sofía back up, rocking her gently in his arms. “Baby, please don’t cry. I really don’t fucking care about anything except you, okay?”

“I’m leaking.” She admitted, covering her face ashamedly. “My baby is crying, my breasts are leaking, and I can’t fucking feed her!”

“It’s not your fault.”

“It is.” She crossed her arms across her chest, trying to hide the damp spots forming.

The monitor beside the bed started beeping and the nurse appeared seconds later with the formula and a look of concern. “What’s going on?”

“I can’t feed my baby.”

Javier’s heart felt like it was being torn out of his chest.

“I’m going to need you to calm down.” The nurse said lightly as she passed the formula off to Javier. “You can still feed your baby with the bottle, okay? But I’m going to need you to calm down, otherwise I’m going to have to sedate you again.”

“Please don’t.” She whispered, hastily wiping away her tears. “Please. I don’t want to feel like that again. Please don’t sedate me.”

“Are you going to calm down?”

Javier kinda wanted to yell at the nurse for the vague condescending tone she was speaking to her with. But that wasn’t going to do anyone any good. “Her breasts… are leaking.” He told the nurse, trying to intercede for her. “Can you get her a fucking pump or something? Please.”

The nurse just glared at him, before she backed down. “That’s probably a good idea.”

Sofía started crying louder, which only seemed to make the dark stain on her mother’s hospital gown grow darker. “Shh. Sweetheart, your mommy’s going to help you. Okay?”

How would he have done this without her? How could he handle Josie and Sofía on his own? The mere thought made him want to join in with his girls and sob his fucking heart out.

Once again he helped her take her daughter into her arms, nestled safely against her chest. He passed her the formula, watching as she brought the bottle to her lips and waited for her to latch on to it.

Javier sank down onto the rolling stool, head in his hands while she fed Sofía. He was so fucking tired and so fucking tired of feeling helpless.

If his father and Steve hadn’t been there with him… he would’ve lost his fucking mind. He couldn’t imagine dealing with this in Colombia. There was no way in hell he would’ve been able to go back to the DEA and work, knowing she was incapacitated. She was a fucking fighter and it made him want pull the world apart knowing that she was hurting. There was nothing he could do. The decision he had made had gotten them into this situation.

It was all his fucking fault.

#javier pena #javier pena x reader #pedro pascal x reader

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