#and then the bag is too heavy and I have to triage

[tyrograph]

Sketchbook, pencil case, bullet journal. Sometimes extra supplies like travel watercolour kit.

House keys, car keys, transit pass, wallet, coin purse

Phone, phone charger, headphones, headphone charger

Small pouch with tampon, pad, emery board, tylenol, advil, glasses repair kit, wipes for glasses/screens

(seasonal) Sunscreen, folding fan / gloves, neckwarmer

Travel tea mug &/or steel water bottle

Several usb keys. Extra carbiners.

Sometimes an eyeglasses case and a folding sunhat

I'm probably forgetting something ...

@ people who carry bags everywhere what do you put in them what is there to bring other than chapstick, keys, phone and maybe a tampon why are you packing a suitcase to be outside for 5 hours

[wosoamazing]

Diagnosis

Alessia x Child!R - Part 1 of the Diabetes & Love Series Warnings: Hospitals, Diabetes, Mild Sickness

A/N: My New Series, it will have three main parts and then just blurbs and oneshots, so if you have any requests let me know (either just general kidfic things or requests surrounding the diabetes) - and thank you to @alotofpockets for the help

“That’s the third time she has wet herself today,” Your Mum told Lotte, as she rocked you slightly, looking down at you noticing you had fallen asleep, you looked so fragile compared to usual, your eyes puffy from crying and your blanket wrapped around your body, your head rested on her shoulder as your small hands clamped the fabric of the shirt she was wearing. Alessia had to look up at the ceiling briefly, to stop a tear falling down her cheek, and Lotte knew her friend wasn’t okay.

“Would it help you if we took her to the hospital?” You Mum nodded hesitantly before shaking her head, “she hasn’t been herself recently, Less, I agree, especially today, lets just go get her checked out and calm our minds,” the blonde nodded before she placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, “I’m just going to grab a few things we may need, you stay with peanut, don’t worry about it.”

“I might actually go put her in a pull up, that way we don’t have to worry about that and it might make her more comfortable,” Alessia said, gaining a nod from the other girl before she walked into her bedroom.

-

You whined at the loss of contact when your Mum placed you on her bed. “It’s okay bubba, Mummy is just going to put a pull up on you, because we are going to take you to the hospital, so hopefully one of the doctors can help you,” she told you as she quickly returned to be beside you.

“No, no pull up,” you told her as you wiped your eyes sleepily.

“Bubba, I think a pull up is the best option, you’re going to be in the car for around an hour, which is a lot of time and if you have a pull up on you won’t have to worry about having another accident, but it’s up to you,” she looked at you as you clearly pondered the thought, before nodding slightly.

“All done,” your Mum told you as she picked you back up and held you to her chest, your blanket still wrapped around you, you dropped your head to rest on her shoulder and she carried you out the room and down to the car where Lotte was waiting for you. 

_____

“Lotte, sick,” you told her as you sat in her lap whilst your Mum spoke to the triage nurse, causing the women to stand up quickly and walk over to your Mum.

“Sorry for interrupting, but she said she is feeling sick now, so I was just wondering if you had a sick bag or something just encase,” 

“Yes of course, that's fine, but I’m actually going to get you guys to come straight through, but take this encase you need it,” The triage nurse spoke to them as she stood up.

“Mumma,” Alessia quickly plucked you out of Lotte’s arms and into hers, holding you tightly, you hadn’t called her Mumma in some time, “feel yucky,” you wined.

“I know, I’m so sorry, I wish I could make you feel better, I know it's yucky and not nice, but hopefully the doctors will be able to help you soon, I love you lots,” she bounced you whilst she walked down the hall. She sat down on the bed in the room you had all been directed too, she tried to turn you around in her lap so you would be facing the doctors who were now in the room but you wouldn’t have it.

“I’m sorry, normally she cooperates a lot better,” “It’s okay, she isn’t herself we understand, I’m Dr Olivia and this is Dr Alex, we’re just going to start with a finger prick at first and then we will look at putting in an IV and drawing blood,” your Mum nodded as she once again tried to get you to turn around.

“No,” you whined out, and your Mum let out a heavy sigh.

“Bubs, the doctors need you to face them so they can help you, what if I lie on my side and you can lie next to me on your back,” when you didn’t respond she started to shift and she managed to get it so you were lying on your back. 

It was a bit of an ordeal getting blood from you but eventually the doctors did before leaving you alone, saying they would be back soon, once they had left you quickly fell asleep.

-

After an hour a new doctor came in, sitting down on the stool, before looking at your Mum.

“We’ve got some news, she has Diabetes, Type 1, we’re going to get started on an insulin drip and get you admitted, you caught it just in time and thankfully she is only in the beginning stages of Diabetic ketoacidosis, more commonly referred to as DKA, we’ll most likely get her back to her normal self by the morning and we’ll start going through treatment options and emergency action plans. Do you have any questions?”

Alessia tried to speak but she couldn’t, “I’m s-sorry,” she managed to choke out.

“It’s okay, I understand it's a lot to take in, I’ll go get her admission sorted and we’ll move you to another room soon, if you have anything you want to ask me at any stage or any more concerns just press the call button and I’ll be right,” The doctor told your Mum before leaving.

“Less,” Lotte said as she stood up and slowly walked over to your Mum, “it’s going to be okay Less, you are both so strong, and me and the girls will be here with you every step of the way.”

_____

“Okay so there are a few options for CGMs and Insulin pumps, normally we would start of talking about the NHS provided ones, however if you would like we can absolutely give you the brochures for all of them and then go from there, we normally wouldn't offer this but just given your circumstances and health insurance we assume you would prefer to choose which one is best to you and your lifestyle than the cheapest ones,” your Mum nodded in response to the doctor and was handed about 10 different brochures, “feel free to look through them tonight, however if anything confused you don’t worry, we will go through it all tomorrow, most likely in the afternoon, we actually have an emergency diabetics class tomorrow morning which we will send you both too and then after that we will go through everything with you,”

_____

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going, I’m just a bit-” Alessia said as she accidently walked into someone in the hall.

“Oh don’t worry, it's alright. You’re Alessia right?” The lady standing in front of her said, as she placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Yeah, and you’re? Sorry,” your Mum said as she shook her head slightly and released a heavy breath.

“Don’t worry, I’m Linda, how are you feeling?” 

“Overwhelmed, but I’ll get there,” Alessia told the women truthfully.

“I understand, this is our second time being here, our daughter was diagnosed a few years ago and now our son who is 3 has just been diagnosed. I can tell you though it does get easier, but it’s hard at the start, but you’ll get there, here have my number, if you ever want to talk to someone in the same position feel free to reach out, I have a feeling you need to be somewhere,” “Yeah sorry, my friends have said they’ll sit with my daughter during our next class so I just need to go get them,” Linda nodded before waving goodbye.

[somethingsomethingwords]

So, part 2 of this. Faster than I imagined, but I really wanted to share this one. I honestly just love it. Enjoy 💜

And just like that, war is over.

The last monsters either turn into golden dust or run away from the Gods' fury.

At camp, Seb managed to protect the children. They are all safe, unharmed. They are alive.

Sebastian feels like he could cry for a week straight, then fall asleep for two months and wake up, just to start crying again.

But he still has duties.

Between the traitors and the fallen, they are gonna need every hand on deck.

First step: reassure the children.

They are four in total. The son of Apollo and the Hypnos kid are hugging so thigh he can't tell where one ends and the other starts. Then there is a daughter of Hephaestus that's just staring ahead, eyes wide and unseeing. The last one, the smallest one, his little sister, has a too heavy sword in her hand, and stands between her friends and Seb's back, the last line of defence if he was to fall.

When every threat is gone, he turns around to see all the kids are now crying, small bodies shaking with a weight that no one should bear, especially this young.

Sebastian falls to his knees, not caring about his wounds, and silently opens his arms.

The children rush to him, and the hug is like a balm for his battered heart.

This is why he stayed, to protect their futures.

When he disentangles himself from the hug, kids still clinging together, he looks around.

No one has returned, and he doesn't know what these old half burnt half destroyed wooden buildings could do to help even if they had.

He is about to stand up and start some sort of triage zone for the wayward wounded, when he feels his pant leg being pulled. His eyes meet the eyes of the son of Apollo, who left the arms of his friend but not their hand.

"I think we should go to the city"

He is shocked by this. The idea of bringing literal children to a battlefield horrifies him. He is about to firmly shut down the idea, when his sister speaks.

"We are useless here. There, we can help" as if it's normal, even expected, for these preteens to witness the horrors of the war.

"No, I'm not taking you. It's too dangerous" he hates the idea so much.

"We can help. We have to. We can heal them, or help them sleep" says the small child of Hypnos, and he hates that they are starting to convince him. After all, he has his own reasons for wanting to be there. Namely a pair of green eyes and two of the cutest dimples ever.

The last kid, the one that still hasn't spoken, is the final nail to the coffin.

"I know where we can find a car" she simply says, starting moving towards Hades knows where.

He'll just have to follow them and drive then. He doesn't even have a driving licence, for fuck's sake.

So he makes a plan. He is taking the children to the city. But first, he stops to prepare five bags with as many packs of ambrosia, bags of nectar and gauze as he can.

After giving one to each of the children, they start walking towards the car. There is no point in just waiting around, he tries to convince himself.

The car ride is bumpy, but nobody complains. They are all silently preparing for what they'll see, and storing all the energy they can master.

He leaves the car somewhere, and starts just going. He will find what he is looking for soon enough. It's destiny, after all, and he promised.

After two turns, they can see an improvised medic camp.

With his hands full of the smaller ones, he gets closer.

The first to notice them is Lewis. The son of Apollo looks exhausted, face pale and hands glowing. But when he is near, they just hug for the longest second ever.

"Seb, what.." starts saying Lewis, but his own brother interrupts him.

"We are here to help, Lew. I can help with small wounds so you can focus on the big ones, and Oscar can help people sleep, if we can't help them" Lando sounds so logical, and Sebastian really hates everything that led to this moment.

Lewis looks at the kids, then nods, sad.

"Ok. But I want you to never separate from each other, ok? You four stay together" the four demigods nod rapidly, only to disappear in the chaos.

Seb goes to follow them, but is soon stopped by Lewis.

He just looks at his friend in the eyes.

"Where is he?" he finally asks, needing to know what happened to Charles.

"I don't know. We saw you, well him, coming with your armour and making plans with some of the Athena's kids, then splitting his group and attacking" Lewis slowly shakes his head.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" he will not be useless as he was for the actual fight.

"Yeah, go find him. Bring him back, or carry his body back to us" with one final nod, Lewis disappears, going to heal as many people as he can.

Sebastian starts walking. He sees friends impaled and foes torn apart. A blond head without half of its body makes his heart stop. He thinks he recognises every body he sees, and he'll never be able to forget a single second of this, but none of them is the son of Aphrodite.

He keeps walking. He goes on and on and on for what feels like centuries, then a small sound makes him turn his head towards one of the lateral streets. There, sitting with a child under his right arm and another one with their head on his leg, that's where Seb sees Charles.

From this far away he can't tell if he is alive or not, so he moves as fast as his leg allows him towards the trio.

He must make some kind of noise, because the child quickly turns her head towards him and raises Charles' dagger, the black metal shiny in her shaking hands.

"Arrêtez-vous. Stop there, don't come closer" says the kid, shaking with fear but still protective of the other. Sebastian feels his heart warm just a bit. His lover has always been able to inspire absolute loyalty even after just a few minutes of people meeting him.

So he stops, and drops to his knees.

"Bonjour, je suis Sebastian. Charles est mon petit copain. Can I get closer, so I can help him?" he hopes his french is not so bad that the girl can't understand him. Charles was giving him lessons, but when he heard him speak his native language there was very little attention dedicated to learning, and a lot of focus on kissing.

The little one does a one eighty. She widens her eyes and drops the blade.

"You are Seb? He was talking about you before falling asleep. I tried to talk to him, but he said he was tired" the kid is now almost crying.

Seb walks closer and kneels in front of the girl.

"You did a wonderful job staying with him and protecting him. Now I'll take care of him" he tries to comfort the kid giving her a smile.

Then he looks at Charles, and everything stops.

His face is pale and with a bad cut from his eyebrow to his chin touching the left eye and his mouth and barely missing his nose; his chest, now free from his breastplate, is slashed open and his right leg lies at a strange angle.

And he has no idea what his internal conditions are.

When he goes to touch him, Seb sees Charles' right eye opening.

His lips mouth his name, but he emits no sound. Then his head minutely moves toward the body on his left leg.

How are they doing? I can't see, Charles seems to say. It breaks Sebastian's heart all over again.

When he looks at the body lying, he can see they are pale and not breathing.

He looks at Charles and shakes his head. Twin tears fall from his eyes, one salty water and the other bloody.

He slowly reaches towards the body, and lifts their head from Charles' leg to the pavement.

"Hey, what do you think about helping me carry him to the medical tents? There my friends will help him" he says calmly to the girl.

She starts shaking her head, and he frowns.

"I can't go back to camp. I have been bad. I followed my sister. I knew she was wrong but I still left. I can't " she starts crying, and starts to stand up and leave.

"Pierre, don't" starts Charles, trying to stop her.

Sebastian and her both stop breathing when he lets out a pained whine.

"You didn't hurt anyone and it's not your fault for your sister's choices" explains Sebastian, taking her hand and lightly squeezing.

Together, they manage to make Charles stand up, then as carefully as he can, Sebastian picks him up. He starts walking slowly towards the tents, two different hands holding his orange t-shirt, but he accelerates when he distinctly feels Charles' hand going lax.

They quickly reach the improvised hospital, and there Seb quickly finds Lewis already looking in their direction.

When he gets close enough, he deposits Charles on a makeshift operating table. He wasn't going to leave his side, but then he remembers Pierre.

Her big eyes are now watery, and he can clearly see she is holding her right arm.

After a silent conversation with Lewis, he takes her to the other kids.

Logan and Oscar are napping, while Lando seems to be rapidly falling asleep. Yuki stands guard, her face firm and fists tight.

When Lando sees Seb, he suddenly stands up.

"You're back" he says simply, half happy half surprised.

"Yes, and I brought a friend. She is Pierre, and she has a cut on her arm. Can you help her?"

"There is no need" says Pierre quickly, shaking her head. But the boy won't let go of her left hand, holding it tightly but gently, so Sebastian leaves them together.

He walks around the tent, not really seeing anything, too focused on where he needs to be.

When he reaches Lewis, his face tells him everything he needs to know. The situation is bad, and the son of Apollo doesn't know if Charles will survive.

Sebastian feels all the bones in his body shatter. After everything that has happened, he will get his happy ending.

He and Charles will go to college, studying environmental science and architecture respectively.

They will find an apartment and move together.

This is not the end. It cannot be.

So he just sits on a chair next to the table Charles is lying on, Lewis still stitching him up and muttering curses as much as prayers, and he himself starts praying to whichever divinity can help, no matter what pantheon they belong to.

He just needs this one favour, this one miracle.

Sebastian doesn't know how long he sits, but it must have been a while. So long he even falls asleep. He only wakes up because the kids arrive, looking dishevelled and tired. So he drops on the ground and just opens his arms. They are soon filled with little bodies.

After shuffling for a bit, they settle down. Skin contact is so needed and appreciated.

He spends the rest of the time watching in front of himself without seeing, and carding his hand through somebody's hair.

He only startles when Charles begins twitching.

He gently pushes the kids off his body, and goes to hold the other's hand.

He is now trembling so much he almost falls off the table.

Then, when he seems to have calmed down, Charles lets out the most animalistic scream of raw pain, back painfully arched, and collapses on the table.

[shmaptainwrites]

[CH. 6] New Doctor on the Block

Chapter 6: Enemy Fire I

Pairings: Hawkeye Pierce x fem!Reader

Characters: Hawkeye Pierce, Max Klinger, Mr. Park (OC), Sherman Potter, Father Mulcahy

Summary: Reader, Hawkeye, Klinger, and Mr. Park are sent to the front to operate on soldiers that can't be brought to the 4077th

Warnings: general wartime violence/injuries, light angst

Notes: I'm just gonna be criptic here and say this won't be the last time you'll see this

Series Masterlist - NDotB Masterlist

When you heard the news to report to Colonel Potter’s office you had a feeling in your gut it wasn’t going to be for a pay raise. 

You gave Hawkeye a look as you entered along with Klinger and one of the male orderlies that helped in the OR, trying to figure out what in the world this group was called for. 

“Colonel, if you don’t mind can I ask why we’ve been called here specifically? Are we in trouble?” you asked. 

“Not particularly,” he shook his head. “One of our battalions is taking heavy fire in the front, they have a lot of wounded, but no choppers can safely get in to bring them out to us. It makes more sense to try and fix them up as best as we can where they are and send them to a unit afterwards.” 

“Are you sure we’re not in trouble?” Klinger asked. “Cause that sounds like a punishment if I know any.” 

“I’m sorry, but we drew names. Two surgeons, one enlisted man, and one nurse or orderly.” 

“When do we leave?” you asked. You hoped the fear wasn’t too evident in your voice. You hoped once you got on the scene your medical brain would go on autopilot and block out anything unpleasant. 

“This afternoon, you should all pack a small bag and whatever materials you might need.” 

The group of you nodded your heads and ran off to get your things sorted. Once all of your stuff was packed, you opened the drawer in your nightstand and pulled out a letter, something you’d drafted a while ago. 

You asked around the camp for Father Mulcahy and found him sitting outside his tent, tending to some potted plants. 

“Father, do you have a quick moment?” 

“Yes of course my child. What is it?” he asked. 

“This letter,” you handed it to him. “In case I don’t make it back can you see that it gets to my children?” 

The Father was a little taken aback, but he nodded his head. 

“I will, but I have faith that you and the rest of your company will make it back safely.” 

“Thank you, Father, I appreciate the sentiment.” 

“I will be sure to pray for your well-being while you’re away.” 

You smiled and shook the priest’s hand. “I’ll be praying right there with you.” 

You took a deep breath and swallowed your nervousness before making your way to the jeep that was going to take you out. 

You tossed your things in the back and sat in the front with Hawkeye while Klinger and Mr. Park sat in the back. 

You hated the army’s jeeps. You thought they were the most uncomfortable car in the world. You missed driving on regular paved roads, in normal cars, but you knew that was a luxury you weren’t going to have for a while. 

You tried not to talk, afraid it would give away how nervous you were. Instead, you took out the most recent photo your father had sent of Grant and Julia, smiling at how much they had grown since you last saw them. Apparently, Julia had asked your dad to teach her how to read and in exchange, she agreed to learn to play poker. You’d probably have some pretty hefty competition between the two of them when you got back. 

You tried your best to keep it in your mind. When not if. 

Around thirty minutes later you arrived at the camp and the Colonel wasn’t exaggerating when he briefed you on the number of wounded and the amount of fire they were facing from the North Koreans. 

“I’ll do triage,” you told Hawkeye. “You get started on the worst ones and I’ll join you once we’ve determined some level of priority.” 

You had to yell to be heard over the constant sound of shells going off, by the end of this your throat would be raw. 

You agreed that was the best first course of action. Klinger and Mr. Park set up some sort of makeshift OR for you both, giving penicillin when needed and cleaning everything with as much ether as they had. 

Before you knew it you were elbow deep in a soldier digging as much shrapnel out of him as you could. 

You could hear the faint whistle of some sort of bomb or missile and your eyes went wide. 

“Cover the patients!” you yelled and it was a good call as dust and rubble fell from above. Whenever that happened you did your best to irrigate the open wounds, but it felt like it was almost useless. 

Considering there were just the two of you surgeons it took you a while to attend to all the patients and by the time you did it was dark outside, but the shelling seemed nonstop. 

You were walking with Hawkeye, trying to check in on all of the patients as best as you could, identifying symptoms if there were any when another bomb went off causing whatever was left over of the structure above you to crumble down. 

“Look out!” Hawkeye grabbed you and pulled you out of the line of the debris, thankful it wasn’t on top of one of the wounded. You shrieked when you saw the cement fall in front of you, gripping tightly onto your fellow surgeon. 

It took you a moment to recover from your shock, but when you did you blinked a few times and looked over at Hawkeye. 

“You saved my life,” you whispered. 

“It’s in the job description, don’t mention it,” he shrugged, trying to lighten the mood, but all you could do was hug him, thankful he saved your babies from losing another parent. 

You tried to compose yourself, but you were a bit shaken for the rest of the evening. You couldn’t even rest as you sat and ate dinner out of a can, your hands carrying a tremor with them. 

While Klinger and Mr. Park went to sleep, you stared up at the blank sky, wondering where all the stars had gone.

“It’s been a long day,” Hawkeye said quietly from behind you. “You should get some rest.” 

You were silent for a moment before speaking, “This is where my husband died,”  your voice was reflective. “On the front I mean.”  

Hawkeye was quiet, he listened to you carefully. 

“I knew it was bad from his letters, but this…” 

“I know it’s not much of a consolation, but I’m sure there are a few wives who will be very happy with the work you’ve done here,” he reminded you. “Isn’t that why you came?” 

You nodded your head. 

“But what about my kids,” you asked. “Was it selfish of me to come out here? To risk orphaning them?” 

“I-” he shut his mouth. “I don’t know. I’m not sure I could ever know. I haven’t been a husband, or a father, and definitely won’t be a mother.” 

You chuckled at that comment. 

“Have I ever shown you a picture of them?” you asked and Hawkeye shook his head. You moved back to sit next to him and pulled out the picture from your pocket. 

“My dad tells me Julia doesn’t go anywhere without the doll you bought her,” you told him. 

“You said it was from me?” he asked and you nodded. 

“Yes, and they’re already very determined to have you visit us once we’re all back home,” you chuckled. “I miss them so much, Ben.” 

“I can only imagine,” he gave you a small smile. “Now come on, you’ve worked hard today. Let’s get some rest so we can go home tomorrow.” 

You finally agreed and were about to grab a blanket and lay down against your backpack when you saw Hawkeye motion for you to come closer. 

“I can grab my own blanket,” you remarked. 

“I know, but it’s not just for you.” 

You understood what he meant and laid with a part of your back against his chest, the side of his face pressed gently against the top of your head and his hands coming to steady your shaky ones. 

“Ben?” you whispered. 

“Mhmm?” His voice sounded groggy and quiet. 

“I-” you squeezed your eyes shut and decided against saying anything. “Goodnight.” 

“Goodnight,” he mumbled against your hair, a thumb rubbing against the back of your hand. 

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, hoping you’d at least be safe for the night. 

Tags: @montyfandomlove

[feuqueerfire]

Triage Live Blogging

Been meaning to watch this since it was released around this time in 2022 but there was such a debacle with the airing, like airing for a 2 hour window on Youtube before it's taken down lol I hope I like it, I enjoy time fuckery and seeing the one you love die over and over again in front of you.

From what I've seen, everybody seems to have really, really liked this except maybe some messiness (?) at the end.

Ep 1 (May 1)

wait... the doctor addressing the other guys as Nong... didn't see his outfit properly but is he a college student? I hope he is, I want age gap yay

18th July, 9PM

ah, so the nong was speeding and ran into a motorcycle

I've been made aware of the clock saying accurate time...

oh he's still a student in his final year of residency, so not as big of an age gap as if he was already a doctor

so the Intern is below P'Tin and she had to have completed at least 6 years of M.D + gotten license and is currently doing her internship, so Tin must've done all this already? I don't fully know what the steps are to become a doctor, esp in Thailand

Nong is 22 years old

I wish the subs were easier to read, especially since it gives like medical info and background

ah, both of them passed away... (at 10:55pm)

Ah, seems like Tin's sister had previously been in an accident because of a drunk person (and she died I'm guessing?)

who is that security guard, hm

oh, he went back to 9:50PM, does he only get back to this time or gradually earlier and earlier? or maybe he gets to go through more of the time and into the next day(s) before he's back into the cycle?

how do you even do your work as a doctor when you're in this situation lol

"If you want to escape this whirlpool, you have save that kid." - the security guard mans

Jinta - chief of court of justice of heaven or smth

omg uncountable number of loops, I would've said fuck it and tried to off myself fr

cat named Zebra

2 Years Ago: the accident where his sister presumably died

yeah, i expect resentment that he's in this loop to save this random kid but wasn't given the chance for his sister

ah, he thinks the kid deserves to die, not surprising

He now woke up at 7AM of that day

pls mans faked fainting instead of doing the test, i was wondering what's up with the sudden funny music

oh, he wakes up where he fell asleep at the time he previously fell asleep there

dang, if the kid dies 2 months from now, will Tin go back into the loop? but probably won't come back 2 months earlier right, just to the last time he slept at some place

so funny, he went to a college to some random kid and told him you will die tonight and the only way to survive is to never die

Pretty interesting so far, I'm excited. I actually don't know how romance-heavy this is but I know we get at least some romantic moments

oh spoiler, I think I read something about in the end, the other guy gets into the loop? Also... is there something about organ trafficking?

Also, the comments here mentioned the drama with OffGun fans, I remember I was into OffGun at the time after Not Me and followed some fans and bruh, they were so cagey and acting as if this show was the devil. lol whatever

Ep 2 (May 1)

ah, Tin wants to return to his hometown to work

Nong guy rich and beautiful and good student and a model and good at sports? I was gonna say let's kill him but instead we're trying to save him...

oh, Tonnam is here, named Sing. when will his Sci-Fi Wish You Luck series come out?

loll Tin's killing technique of just pretending to be dizzy/faint/whatever

Warit?

pls he really went to tell him about dying tonight and in front of friends too

I can't tell if they're hinting as a P'Sing/Gap side couple

Wonder what's up with Tol's girlfriend? something about some guys joking? and what's up with the bag?

getting into the car with him loll

fun exchange but i get Tin's frustration like wtf is he even supposed to do? i guess he should find some sort of proof that he's indeed in a loop, like figuring out what's gonna happen and telling it to Tol

Ah, some bastard did something to his gf Mai?

c'mon, translate what he's writing, idk Thai

Jinta's here to remind Tin about consequences and butterfly effect, so maybe this time Tin'll actually succeed in saving Tol for tonight? but maybe have fucked up something in his own life

Who is this Warit? esp in relation to Sing? I wonder if Sing's also in a time loop with target Warit or no?

okay he didn't react with recognition when Tin asked Sing how he'd react if a stranger came to tell him he'd die tonight, so I guess he's not in a loop

oh, is Warit somebody Sing thinks of as his little brother?

Warit died because of Tin's actions?

Ah, Tin was able to treat Warit but Sing wasn't? Which is why when Sing took over for Tin, Warit died?

ah... missing kidney? Organ trafficking...

So he can return to a previous day as he wants? idgi like how's he gonna go to the 17th?

Ep 3 (May 1)

girl, I'm already on ep 3 and I started this in the afternoon...

pls Tol is waiting for just oneeee hint that Tin's with whatever dudes and he'll beat the shit out of him again

plsssss Tin's so silly, mans has Tol's account in his Facebook history and knows that Tol's suspicious of him but still handed it over to become friends. fr stressing me out

aw, poor cat

Tin giving Tol his white shirt and doing his best to not look as Tol changes lol

ah, Warit is Fluke (ex-GMMTV, My Gear Your Gown)

Professor Sak, Director-to-be, probably smuggling organs

oh, we're straight up asking if Gap's secretly in love with Sing lol

pls, the way Art's acting as if insinuating that Tin and Tol fucked, which is why Tol's wearing Tin's shirt now like girl... Tol has a gf?

The teacher told the students about somebody attempting suicide?

idek their age gap but I'm into it, idkidk

aw, Tin's gonna take care of Tol's cat

as soon as he said sorry to hear that, Tin should've jumped in like "AND THAT'S WHY YOU NEVER DRIVE WHILE DRUNK OR PICK UP CALLS OR BECOME DISTRACTED !!!!"

Tin lowkey already falling for Tol like okay

lol Tol accidentally telling Tin to marry him by telling him to find a wife that's close to him

hm... Doi is working with Sak and Mai's asking Doi about her mom... are they harvesting Mai's mother's organs or something?

Who is Tol's father? Doi refers to him as Khun Tol. oh wait Sak's friend's son right

Tol uses 'ter' with Mai

bruh, Tol's pride making it so that he throws Mai a party and pressures her to attend it despite her wanting to spend time with her sick mother... Are they gonna make Mai be a bad person or something?

Ah, he has his friend Fang who knows Tin likes men? I didn't even know fully if Tin knew he liked men lol but I guess it makes sense based on how he acted around Tol but didn't get freaked out about his feelings/attraction

pls it makes me so nervous whenever Tin tells or almost tells Tol about not going/dying/not driving, whatever. at least it's a consolation that Tol's gonna die and not remember the weird shit Tin pulls? it's lol in the worst way

Mai's contact named Heart... assuming that's not Tol?

Throughout the whole ep, as Tin and Tol became closer, I was losing my mind at how you become closer to somebody knowing that they're a high chance they'll die tomorrow. Not only is Tin becoming friends and closer to Tol but he's gonna fall in love too.

Ep 4 (May 2)

ah, Mai's Heart contact and her are taking a break, so not necessarily cheating? Actually a break isn't the same thing as a break-up umm

omg wait... she's using Tol's status and money to take care of her mother... i get her lol

there's so much happening in this loop, will we have everything be undone? Like progress with Tol but also the stuff with Sak (and him saying 'deal with Warit' to Doi) and also Tin with his friend. but maybe this loop will have Warit die because of Doi's meddling, so next loop Tin'll stop Sing from barging into Sak's office

oh tin, at least pretend to check what's wrong with the patient(s), now Doi is like hmm did Tin already know about our plan to mess with Rit?

nervous meeting for both Sak and Tin

omg... okay Tol wasn't drunk but this time him, Art, and the motorcycle grandpa all got into the accident

Tol dead again and Art in a coma

oh? Something revealing in Tol's autopsy results? In the r/boyslove on-air thread for eps 1 - 3, somebody mentioned that maybe Tol and Tin's sister have a connection, like maybe Tol has his sister's organ or something in him, maybe that's what it'll reveal?

Sak behaved weirdly with a case of an uncle 2 months ago...

Sing becoming jealous/possessive when Tin's affectionate with Gap lol

in the hallucination, Tol says "please take care of my heart for me" okay... heart hm

ah, Tol had a heart failure, okay everything's pointing to issues with the heart

I wonder what Sak had told the autopsy guy in that call right after Tin had asked for the autopsy results

I don't care about Manner of Death or MaxTul, so this was just awkward for me lol

girl why are you driving right now, be fr

bruh yeah scary why drive

Ep 5 (May 2)

A new loop begins: June 17

lol incredibly specific questioning and diagnosis in a coffee shop just after hearing that Tol gets somewhat tired about playing soccer but i mean if it works, it works

"It's not gonna hurt, is it?" oh girl you've died so many times now

bruh these fuckers blamed another student for cheating? and the prof irritating af for just being like yeah Warit i believe you're the cheater cuz I found it near your desk

bruh, the cheaters said that they saw Warit cheat?

but what's up with the previous loop where the girl and the guy were talking as if Warit made them pass (through cheating) but Tol didn't know what that was fully about? like the girl stopped the guy from speaking about it to Tol?

agh, are they gonna make it be like Tol somehow had no idea about the cheating or about copying Warit's project idea and somebody else in the group did it?

Tin still believes in Tol and that he'd feel guilty for doing the cheating stuff to Warit

Interesting that Sing and Fang are independently suspicious of and are kinda investigating Sak and Doi. good that not everything depends on Tin (well Tin was even defending Sak at the beginning 2 months ago with the Uncle's case)

her other boyfriend coming to save her from the debt collectors, yikes

what was the name of the patient Dr. Fang checked? Was it Mai's mom and the medicine Doi & Sak are assigning her?

hehe in this iteration, Tin helps out Tol and gets a nice Tol who trusts him. they're cute. i'm sad that this is gonna be over and Tol's gonna die and he's gonna go back to step 0 while Tin will be stuck in a loop still

I think there's a tiktok that I've liked for Triage and it begins in this clock tower but idk if they're up here in another iteration too

no way Tol leaning in that far lmfaooo he was crowding in fr. they're doing too many face shots and I didn't realize just how much Tol had leaned in

Tin is familiar to Tol? Y'know Gap also said something about the situation earlier was familiar... would people kinda realize that they've lived this before/they're in a loop?

omg, Tin's trying once again to tell Tol about the time loop

omg klasdjflaksdfj kl;asdfj ahhh kissing Tol to stop him from leaving ahhhhh

So did Tol's cat not get injured in this version?

I'm impressed that so far, the story hasn't gotten boring and despite us going through similar scenarios or reveals, the show doesn't quite feel repetitive. They're changing up the scenes enough and finding newer questions or answers so that each loop gives something new.

Ep 6 (May 2)

I wish I had the patience to savour this show and watch like 1 ep, maybe max 2 eps a day.

pushing him off and leaving, as expected

omg, the reason Mai was dragged out by the guy (her real bf lol) from the party was because he was at the hospital and realized Doi and Sak had drugged Mai's mother (to kill her and likely harvest her organs) and so wanted to take her there...

these fucking doctors not calling Mai directly...

omg Tol seeing boys kiss and remembering Tin kissing him...

wait, Tol just had a memory of that car crash? even though he hasn't experienced it yet?

Ah, Tol finally believing it's not the first time that they're meeting/he's dying in front of Tin. I saw a gif when looking for ep 5 gifs of this moment

From Tol getting flashbacks to his previous death and now finally believing this loop thing, I wonder if he'll kinda remember stuff in his next loop?

lol Sing and Gap push and pull

Ahh, Tin crying that he doesn't want Tol to forget about him anymore

June 19th

I wish there was a way for them to realize the overlap that the woman who was taken for the surgery is Mai's mother, then talk to Mai and the guy about her condition last night

lmfao Ton and Tin childhood connection

ah, Tin now finds about the Mai and her mother in the hospital connection

ah, the guy's name is Heart lmfao I thought it was an endearment

sorry they can't make me hate Heart. i get Tin being disappointed but not angry at her because idk her actions are understandable even if immoral

bruh organ trafficking right under everybody's noses + caught on CCTV

They fucking killed Fang or what omgggg... crazy. okay at least Tol is dying soon so that we can restart the loop cuz omg

oh? Tin doesn't remember things right away? "The longer I turn back time, the longer it takes me to remember everything"

oh he wants to back a week to June 11

Also, I realized Jinta reminds me of the story in Dead Friend Forever, hmm is this a common name for Thai supersition and stuff?

Ep 7 (May 3)

23.5 Episode 9 is out since it's Monday but I kinda don't wanna watch it right now? I might just finish out Triage in the next 2-3 days and then watch the next 23.5 episode. Since it's like a regular high school drama, feels like I don't feel the urgency to really know what's gonna happen next.

oops I've been saying June but it's July 11

Tin trying to remember everything and make a to-do list and here's one that needs Tol to fall in love with him lol

Aw Tin, Tol would def fall for you lol

hilarious to have Todo #3: Tol must be Tin's boyfriend

they're so awkward (as they always are at first), i'm crying

Tol's mom (Pang) is so pretty

wonder if Tol's dad would be involved in this at all? I assume they just know each other and isn't into the organ trafficking

why is Tol's dad negging him in front of Tin lol so mean

ah, they're in Chiang Mai

must be wild to be falling in love with Tol but 1) he doesn't remember you 2) he doesn't like you 3) he's gonna die if you don't save him

Gap keeps remembering that Tin asks Sing to switch shifts with him everytime lol

he ain't gonna let the tutoring go

klasdfj pls "I just miss you, that's all" i love him just inserting himself as a love line

Tol is a real jackass fr

hmm Dear... is Tol jealous of her with Tin?

Ep 8 (May 3)

heh jealous Tol

ah, she's Tin's ex

"But I don't have anybody in my mind yet na" *sparkly music*

damn we see the full scene of when Tol drowned

ahhh Tol being the one who asks to spend time with Tin for a change by asking to see Seudam

spoiled enough that as a college student doesn't know how to even crack an egg, oh Tol

okay they're gonna retcon some of Tol's assholery right? Cuz he's quite a dick from what we assume but they might not want the literally romantic interest male lead to be that way

Ah, Tin encouraging Tol to do the right thing (assuming about the cheating thing tomorrow when they blame Rit?)

I've seen the first shot at 16:00 when they're tutoring in the beginning of an edit too

damn, not even any situation of them deciding to have Tin stay over and sleep in the same bed?

ah, Tol dreaming of drowning that one time but also dying in past loops

Tin telling Tol that it's just a dream. I wonder when (or if...) Tol will find out and believe the loop thing, will it be in this loop or a future one, if at all until he ends up in a loop himself

hm... Rit and Tol and Art making up

okay Tol changed this loop to defend Rit and say whose it is (and he didn't cheat this time, so didn't have to face any consequences himself). wonder how it'll play out since there have been some pretty big changes for Warit since the original loop and they now kowkey have enemies in Pair and Win (?)

girl, don't tell Tol on the phone?! meet up face-to-face

hope the extent of the cheaters' revenge is just exposing Mai having a bf

aw man, are we gonna have Tin having Tol wait for a long time or what?

omggg agh I wanted to have Tin tell Tol about it but now Pear's sent Tol the photo of Mai and the guy agh

and thennnn he sees Tin with his ex my goddd give Tol a break, he decided to not be an asshole to Warit + is having nightmares about his past deaths and the feeling that he's gone through everything already. pls

I know that before in the original loop(s), Tol knew about Mai and some guy but thought it wasn't her cheating but that he came to bother her or something? And this is different than that case right? Cuz in previous scenario he found out some other way, not through Pear's photo as revenge?

Tol waits mournfully in that clock tower while Tin's battling possibly Rit's uncle (Sak stole his nephew's kidney) who is wielding a knife at the hospital and then gets stabbed omg

I saw in a gif when looking for ep 8 gifs... are they kissing next ep? Also saw a post that started with "This better be the last loop" so I'm guessing Tol dying again rip

Ep 9 (May 3)

I... have so many things to do that I should be doing instead of watching the next episode. man...

"I wonder if Tol can hear me in every loop" that's wild

Is Tol upset that he didn't get any calls from Tin?

Dr. Fang, you're everything

damn, the knife uncle killed himself (or was killed more likely) in prison

Don't you worry that Sak's gonna off Warit too?

I get Sing wants to get to the bottom of this but girl, how would you ensure Warit's unharmed? Fang died in a previous loop, man

I like Sing/Gap but not during serious moments

dang just straight up going for Sak's computer

A full day has already passed? 17th already

They don't translate what Win wrote on his post

Jinta such a shipper like "oh you're here? Tin can't use his hands but has to eat" *wink* and Tol does indeed feed Tin

oh, we're going straight into "yeah you die in every loop and i tried to find the cause"

Less dramatic leadup and explanation and disbelief than I expected

damn, pinky promise, well Tol better not die tomorrow/18th

nawt fuckass Pear and Win aughhhh let's kill them

ahh Rit pls don't go against Tol right now cuz that's just another hurdle in the loop T.T esp don't team up with the hellish pair to do it

omg why Heart become scary and throwing things D:

Tol eager to have Tin in his house again lol Toi enjoying overhearing

Ow man Tol... being nice to Mai is fine but don't start it up with her again please

okayy Tol not getting back together with her

aw breakups suck even though neither of them even romantically like the other

damn, they're sleeping in different bed/couch now and then having a discussion before sharing the bed, where was this last ep lol

damn, talking about past loops and deaths in bed

"We both will have a bright future together"

heart beating so fast Tol wonders if he'll have a heart attack but he might just be playing it up as a little hint/tease lol

kiss yay !

Tol's probably gonna die next ep and it'll devastate me fr because they're like... in love now.

Wait... I'm going through this ep's gifs and maybe?? next ep is the one where Tol wakes up in a loop? omg... I thought it'd be like the last ep or 2

Ep 10 (May 3)

The fourth episode of the day oof

hmmm Tol reading Tin's diary... he wouldn't be mad about seeing becoming Tol's boyfriend on the to-do list right? I feel like he should see and be preoccupied with the organ trafficking

omg?? okay, in the ep 9 (I think) reddit on-air, somebody was like this scratches the itch if you wanted more Fourth/Beam in 2moons and I didn't understand what they meant because I didn't think Fiat, Tonnam, gap's actor were in 2moons. but turns out it referred to TaeTee omg? I didn't know they were in 2moons as a tertiary couple lol idk why it just blew my mind, so they're literally a side couple getting a main show, that's crazy idk. I think I especially didn't realize because Tae had Paint With Love with Singto, so I thought Tae/Tee was a new ship after that.

aw going back to sleep beside Tin and cuddling kind of and watching him sleep, so sweet

it's the 18th

Doi got to the flash drive first...

everything is so nerve-wracking like on the one hand Tol's got this party for this project that Rit's gonna be sabotaging with Win and Pear's help and on the other hand, Sing and Doi are onto Sing and Gap, and also now 1) this sus dude entering Tol's party... is he gonna end up doing something to Tin/is gonna try to do something to Tol and Tin will step in like with that uncle when he got stabbed? and 2) this nurse with a syringe? is it for Mai's mother?

okay, I think Art is thankfully gonna be useful and get through to Rit about how two-faced Lukpear and Win are.

back hug

me and Tol both dreading this night

omg Tin pinky promised Tol that nothing bad will happen to him... the chance of Tin dying by stepping in front of Tol gets likelier and likelier

not Mai texting Heart again smh c'mon girl. I believe you'll be fine without a boyfriend

girl, so much shit going down. injection in the mother, Sing and Gap captured, random dude on Tol's tail + Lukepear taking things into her own hand once Rit tries to leave

hope Sing and Gap took the guns at least

wtf is this gun wielding fucker even doing bruh

omg mans shot Tin

that blood splatter across Sing's mask is crazy

losing my fucking mind at Sing still continuing to pump Tin's lung (?) after everybody else has stopped because he refuses to believe it

Sing deranged being like "Tin, you're okay, right? Tell P'Toi you're fine"

bruh i was wondering if time of death would end up being 10:55PM and indeed...

aughhhh everybody mourning

I wonder how Tol's time loop is gonna start because I'm assuming he's been sleeping? ig they haven't started yet to really let the death sink in

Tol randomly calling out for P'Tin omggg

Also, what happened to Mai's mom?

omg it's been weeks after Tin passed

Tol actually does sound like he's lost it, asking around about Jinta who nobody knows and now saying that he knows a way to bring back Tin by getting Jinta to turn back time omg poor baby :'(

omg not security T.T

well at least he's found Jinta

the last third of this ep is devastating fr, makes me wish I hadn't known about Tol getting into the time loop and such so that everything would be more heightened

reading the on-air threads is making me realize... I wonder what time Tol's gonna go back to, would he go way way back before Tin learned about anything? Someone also said ep 4 "ghost" Tol who asked Tin to take care of his heart was actually time loop Tol, which would be a cool hint

Anyway, the show is so good so far, I'm nervous about the fact that I've heard the last few eps get kinda wonky or too messy/fast. I really hope they don't fuck up the ending omg

Ep 11 (May 4)

Final 3 episodes, thinking I'm gonna finish it today, so excited, I'm hoping I love the last bit too

omg? Tin actively learned that class to tutor Tol to get him to not cheat

omg not Tol being the one who initially hurt Mai accidentally with the vase

Jinta is really an angel in this universe ig

ahh the ep 4 dream Tol

July 14

Tol's gotta fix the stuff himself now, starting with not taking credit for Rit's presentation

damn, Tol's giving up his position in the group to Warit, though I just hate Lukepair and Win and don't trust them

Okayyy Tin's coming back but without memories, let's go

Tol wanting to take the deal only if he's the one who ends up dying this final time instead of Tin (though idk if Jinta'll grant him that lol)

now it's Tol's turn to be a random stalker-like dude who knows all about Tin and is very presumptuous and pushy heh

aw, dream Tin giving Tol a notebook of everything that happened in the loops

"We will never be together, right?" TOL DONT SAYYY THAT

lmfaoooo a kiss can remind the other person a bit about past loops, that's hilarious

okay, now Tol's also gotta be involved in the organ trafficking investigation stuff right because that's a very important aspect of these loops

Sing's boyfriend lol that's what that one textpost I kinda saw that mentioned 'they started dating off-screen' was talking about

...Tin's not working for Sak in this loop, is he? IS HE?! D:

or Tin just doesn't care about his job and patients in this loop after his sister's death

okay and Tol got Mai to move her mother too

lol Sing and Gap

pls Tol is actually just a stalker now

I was nervous that Tol was gonna just go and kiss Tin and get punched but then he couldn't even do that because Dear showed up

2 more episodes...

I like this comment talking about how Tin was also callous and careless in the first episode after Tol came in. It's not that Tin being changed and cold now in this timeline is that different than what he was like in the original timeline first few loops. Similarly, this comment about "How do you know if Tin would be the same Tin if he didn't meet you." 

Ep 12 (May 4)

damn, Dear and Tin randomly both there at the clock tower, thinking the other called them there? and also they apparently hadn't met in a long time... so not dating, still exes?

ah, Tin's confused about some sort of romantic connection and thought it was Dear that he's missing?

plssss Tin previously asking Fang to help hit on Tol and now Tol doing the same

omg we've moved on from dates to countdowns. 60 hours left, 2.5 days

bro use the fact that you've got some heart condition to at least become Tin's patient, c'mon

pls not Nong Dear being there too and Fang somehow siding with Tol over her

throwback to that dinner with family when Tol was on his own phone the whole time

poor Tol doing the same hopeless shit Tin did in his earlier loops but my guy gets just one chance ahhhh

omg, magic notebook where the writing can be seen by Tol but nobody else

idk if the lesson should be to keep pursuing him lol like obviously Tol will because of reasons but Fang doesn't know that

oh, Mai and Heart are pursuing legal action against Sak?

damn, Sak's gonna try to get somebody else's organs now so that some other fuckers help him get off the hook on his trial

lmfao yep, everybody who's doing a case against you turning up dead wouldn't be suspicious at all

Tol's mother is sooooo pretty

ah, the tutoring session once again, starting with the same shot. though now Tol's scheming to kiss Tin

Tol's attempts are so awkward I'm dying, esp because Tin's awkward attempts or ones that went wrong results in Tol's death soon enough and it's like whelp, doesn't matter cuz Tol doesn't remember but this... it's different. it's going on for days on end and is the finally loop, so Tin will remember

pls not fake drowning, i'm dead wtf Tol, guess he's hoping for a CPR kiss?

"Get up when you want to, then" I'm alskdfj;alskdfj;lkasdf this is so awkward i'm dying

A tiny heart-to-heart sort of

Tol is actually the funniest person, what is this strategic kissing while asleep + pretending to have a nightmare

ah, he managed a kiss + Tin is now slowly remembering things

damn, Tin REALLY doesn't wanna go against Sak

Sing and Gap are cute enough but don't know I want too much of them in the midst of this high-tension stuff

Tin, be fucking serious and do not fall for Sak's tricks

Jinta does hint that maybe the reason Tin's so callous about life in this universe is because Tol doesn't come into his life and the loops don't change him/show him to value life

hmm the notebook is "super cheating if you know how to use it"

naurr fuckass Doi getting to Rit

lol Sing and Gap's storyline where Sing mentions gel/lube. Today Wandee Goodday was released and apparently that also mentioned lube, interesting to have it happen twice in one day for me when that's like rarely ever mentioned in BLs

oh wtf Doi has Rit hostage in Sing's apartment?!

The first half was kinda more comedic and relationship-oriented but I enjoyed the latter half more when things started getting a bit more serious.

I probably get what people mean about the last ep being fast and chaotic, seems like there's so much left for a 48 min ep

Ep 13 (May 4)

Finale, I hope it's intense and coherent and romantic and good

Gap, DO SOMETHING don't just stand there and listen to Sing and Doi showdown through the phone

pls not Tol getting excited af at getting the pulse, he's so... baby

omg i thought he was just gonna hug Tin but he kissed him??? pls

visions when they kissed

Tol's so excited asking Tin to kiss again

Tin remembering more about the loops

I hope Gap's lying about not having told anybody cuz then what was even the point of the phone call

idk what Warit texted Fang but maybe it's about Doi, who knows

who is Chalongchai? Is it the guy who shot Tin in the last loop?

not Tin and Tol getting fucking injected

girl, 5 minutes left ?!?!?!?!?!

Ah, Tin remembers but doesn't realize that there will be no loop

this fucking unhinged Doi is way too much girl gtfo why'd you inject Tin >:(

The piano at like 31:55 reminded me of We Best Love I think? Crazy that I can remember it. though it actually might be from the OST from it that I added to my playlist

damn, Tin in a coma. at least he ain't dead

wait, Tin appears at the clock tower just like that ??

plsss I was like Tin has Got to be kidding, he must remember right? it's too late in the episode, he's just faking Tol out but it went on for so long that I was like ? damn, maybe miss girl really doesn't remember

but indeed he does

aw, it ends just like that :( i wish there was just a bit more. i guess ep 9 was the one that had the most lovey-dovey moments between the two of them

was that after-credit scene a teaser for Euthanasia or whatever? The Maxtul Manner of Death spin-off that is unlikely to come to fruition?

I never commented on it but I guess Tin's wish to save Tol when they were kids really had a part in this loop?

This last ep hmmm it was good but somehow felt messier than the earlier loops, which felt move tightly woven together and better written? Like this is the type of writing that put me off of Manner of Death where things didn't feel quite rational, like the Sing and Gap and Doi stuff, or Doi in general going off the rails, or the random kidnapping in the hospital, and then Tin being in a coma for months and months until meeting in the clock tower on a random day. They wanted the last ep to be fast-paced and intense and that's fine but it wasn't as coherent as some of the earlier episodes.

Overall:

Great concept, mostly great execution (especially the first 3/4 like until ep 9 or 10), strong character building. Enjoyed unveiling more and more through each loop and seeing how situations and people changed through them.

Very commendable that despite it literally being time loops, the show didn't feel repetitive, they timed things well. I could've done with a little more romance but what little there was of them actually being together in like eps 9 - 10 were very cute.

I'd thought that they were the same age or similar ages for some reason but Tol is at least a few years younger than Tin and I liked that. Also omg in the last loop last few eps, I was thinking that wide-eyed, bumbling, eager, kind of naive Tol reminded me of Yeowoon from Love for Love's Sake after he softens up and turns out there's even an edit for it on tiktok lol so I'm correct.

This also makes me more excited for 4 Minutes and Spare Me Your Mercy, also Sammon novels because I found Manner of Death to be underwhelming and frustrating with how... stupid everybody was. This had more intelligent characters and I liked the plot better since it didn't fall into the "somehow a show about abuse women face but we only focus on male characters"

Rating: 7/10 [May 12, 2024 Update: Decreased by 0.5 stars when rerating shows I've watched in 2024: 7 -> 6.5]

[write-and-buried]

Celestial Navigation

Chapter 7 - Third Quarter

(gif by the majestic @nicolethered)

Summary; it took you so long to see it. Warnings; UNBELIEVABLY TOXIC WORK ENVIRONMENT. TOXIC INTERNET CULTURE. miraculously, there is no smut in this chapter. I'm gearing up for a big one in the next. Authors Note welcome to the penultimate chapter. only one more after this! and thank you again for all the love on this story, I truly cannot express how thankful I am for each and every one of you.

Series Masterlist \\ Main Masterlist

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It’s almost winter. The morning sky threatens rain, or possibly snow, the stores now twinkling red and green as they threaten Christmas and the unending passage of time. Your alarm wakes you cold, cuddled beneath heavy blankets, warm hands wrapped around you, Dieter’s breath tickling your neck.

Sometimes you find him painting, up before the sunrise, or up still, a paint brush behind his ear as he smudges ink on canvas, charcoal between his fingers as he keeps his steps light so as to not wake you. It pulls him from dreams, dragging heavy fingers to stretched linen, to bleary eyes and a blurry vision, usually just taking shape as you wake up.

You have set your alarm early, knowing the time it takes to extract yourself from his embrace is infinite, that he would keep you pinned beneath an adoring gaze for eternity if he could. His hands follow you as you wake, stretching with your skin as you yawn, feel him press a kiss between your collarbones.

“Ten more minutes” he mumbles.

“You don’t have to get up” you reply, turning in his embrace to kiss his jaw, brushing your cheek against the stubble as he slides his hands to grab your ass.

“Already up” he grins, grinding his pelvis into you with a nip to your lower lip.

It’s worth the extra hour.

The café is busy enough that you can slip in unnoticed. The crowd still sleep rough and mostly silent as the ambient noise settles your skin. It’s Molly that notices you first, nodding to Owen as she grabs a muffin, seeing you lingering in the bead arched doorway.

You mouth a quiet thank you as she passes you a large black coffee and the still warm muffin, allowing you to slip out the front door. The lack of groaning from the rusted bell makes your eyebrow twitch. You wonder where the pieces ended up, Dieter too busy grabbing at you to notice where it landed.

You bow your head against the cold, joining the tide of others on their way to work. People in athletic wear and headphones weaving in and out of the slow-moving throng. People in suits, with scarves to protect against the cold, phones pressed to their ear with coffee in hand, you seem to absorb into the mass, letting the flow take you.

You’re early to the office, only three other interns glued to their desks, their eyes barely glancing to you as they type one handed, the other bringing scalding hot coffee to their lips, their eyes rimmed and bloodshot, evidence of an all-nighter. You begin triaging your inbox, sorting them into priority groups, reminders popping and being ignored. You click through them, adding the most important to your journal as you go, the week filling quickly.

You have deadlines and meetings, piling on top of one another, the highest priority marked with a red star. You laugh when you look at your week, a red sea staring back at you. You can’t remember the last time you had something that was low priority. Dieter’s voice floats into your subconscious ‘If they’re all high priority, then none of them are”

The alert for an in-person meeting rouses you from your thoughts, pinging across the screen and directing you to a conference room three floors up. Your nose wrinkles at the elevator, everything smelling sterile, too clean, too white, the mirrored interior showing off the slight bags under your eyes.

Your boss sits in the middle of the row. Her boss sits beside her, bored and thumbing through his phone. Two other people you don’t recognise are talking quietly as your boss gestures to a seat across from them. You’re reminded of your final interview for this job, the nervous energy flooding back into you as though a forgotten dam had failed.

“Have a seat” your boss says, her tone clipped as she opens a file in front of her.

“This is Emma, she’s from HR to take minutes for this meeting, ensure everyone is on the same page. And Elton, he’s from the legal department. You know Mr. Taylor of course”

The man barely looks at you, raising his eyebrows in acknowledgement. You barely recognise him without the ruddy cheeks, his hand squeezing his wife’s hip as he leans in conspiratorially to talk to Dieter. You were invited to his house in the Hamptons.

“I’m sure you know why we’re here” your boss says, spreading her hands wide across the papers in front of her.

“No, I’m not actually”

“This is a copy of the employment contract you signed when you started working with us” your boss says, sliding a photocopy across the desk towards you, your initials in a stamped box on the side. Scanning the document, you remember your enthusiasm, sitting in an office just like this, scribbling as fast as you could as you itched to get started.

“Okay” you say, your eyes not focusing on the paper in front of you.

“This is the media clause.” Elton from legal says. “It discusses how we expect our employees to behave if they’re ever in the public eye. Representing the company, upholding the values we embody, those kinds of thing”

You don’t answer, waiting for the rest of the sentence.

“This is you, yes?” your boss slides a photograph across the table. Dieter wrapping his arm around your waist as he pulls you into the café the night before. The image is taken from Twitter, blurry around the edges, the caption blacked out.

“And if it is?” you ask, raising your chin slightly.

Your boss nods, as Emma from HR scribbles something on the pad in front of her.

“Now, your association with people outside working hours is none of our concern. However, given the significant media attention attached to this person, we’ve been forced to take a closer look at your performance over the last few weeks.”

“When looking at your performance within the confines of these values, we’ve noticed a significant shift in your work output.” Your boss says. There’s a false ring of kindness to it, a softness that rings like hollow tin. You watch her arrange her face into something resembling a smile.

“We’re worried about you, dear” she says, half choking on the last word. “We think it might be best for you to take some time off and regroup, come back to us focused”

“I am focused.” You reply “I haven’t missed a deadline, my work has been turned in ahead of schedule, with no mistakes”

“Well, that’s not quite true is it” she replies, the smile turning icy as she pulls another document from the stack. It’s the mistake from weeks ago, the one that sent you to Dieter’s apartment, to Universal Horror Monsters and weed brownies. To the first time he hooked his pinkie into yours.

“That was rectified to your satisfaction” you say, your voice beginning to tremble as your eyes fill with tears.

“There’s no need to get emotional” Mr Taylor says, looking up from his phone for the first time. “This is just an informal chat”

“With HR & Legal and my immediate superiors” You spit.

“Let’s take a breath. We love your work, and we want you to succeed in this company. We’re very conscious of burnout and we want you to be at your full potential, and we think the best way for you to get back on track is to take some time away. Let’s say a week? Fully paid of course, this isn’t a punishment”

“Yes it is” you whisper, sneaking the words under your breath as you force the tears back.

“Honestly, we want what’s best for all involved. And given your declining output, and your recent lack of engagement in our little family here, we think this is the best step, so we don’t have to escalate these issues further” Emma from HR says, smiling at you with the same false kindness.

“Fine” you say, standing from the conference table, and turning to leave. You don’t hear their parting words, just the echoing falsehood of their kindness.

Dieter’s phone goes straight to voicemail. It got lost in the fray last night, probably kicked under the bed with its battery spilling loose. A quick scroll of Twitter still has him as the villain of the day, thousand-word articles disparaging him as a more photos of Owen and Molly splash across your feed. They’re in a frenzy over him, the speculation on the mystery woman he dragged inside the café reaching fever pitch.

“What GAP sale bin did he drag her out of?” “Some fangirl probably” “First swipe on tinder” “Best he could do on short notice probably” “Look at the way he’s grabbing her. It’s clearly abusive” “From a psych major, its clear he’s a narcissist.” “Did you see his *eggplant* tho?!” “Not worth it for that ego – you’re in danger girl!”  

Nobody cares if you cry in the corner of a Starbucks. They ignore you as easily as they misspell your name, leaving you to sit and dry your eyes with napkins until the morning rush clears. You can hear people, mums with strollers wider than SUVs, gossiping about the nude images. There’s a rumour of a whisper of a sex tape. They roll their eyes as they open their phones to search for it.

You manage to trap the scream in your chest, drowning it with croissant on coffee on coffee until the shop clears, the tables wiped by college students making minimum wage and kind enough to not glance your way. You pull your journal from your bag, looking through the week you’ve just lost, striking through deadlines that no longer matter, as if they ever did.

In the corner you see a scribbled out heart. A blotted memory of Josh and the life you were supposed to have by now. It’s almost December, you were supposed to have a joint chequing account, a photo in reds and greens splashed across Instagram. You haven’t updated social media in weeks. This weekend was supposed to see you having sex three times. You think it might have been his birthday. You can’t even remember the colour of his eyes.

You stuff an extra twenty in the tip jar before you leave, offering the barista a weak smile as she thanks you, tells you to come back soon in that same tinny sincerity, pennies down a well, hollow and insignificant. You try Dieter again, get voicemail again.

*

The rust makes a beautiful sunset. Mixed with clear Elmer’s glue he spends the morning scraping the broken bell clean until it shines. His phone is lost somewhere, probably buried at the bottom of his laundry basket with last nights sheets. He scribbles on a notepad, a reminder to call the man who runs the pawn shop three blocks over. He smelts metal in his spare time, and Dieter can’t wait to see what he does with this.

The sunset in his vision splashes over his apartment. It’s the golden light of all the places you’ve touched. The way it lays across your forehead, weaves between your fingers. The mix of colour when it hits your skin. You’re in all his work now. The abstract splash of colour on linen the way your laugh makes him feel, the bitten peach the shape of your teeth.

He checks the project in his closet. A few more days of drying before he can finish it. He lays it carefully back in place, his fingers careful on the twine, hope blooming in his chest as he imagines what it will look like finished. He’s always waiting for the finish.

The sound of boots on the stairwell makes him turn. Nobody has figured out the stairwell yet, everyone assuming it leads to the back storage, not a sneaky entrance to his apartment, the door hidden behind beads and stacks of mismatched ceramic, the merry hum of an industrial dishwasher.

“Where is your fucking phone?” Molly yells, half kicking the door in as she storms into his apartment. He shrugs, looking at her wild eyes. She looks tired, the same tiredness that engulfed him until the moment you were back in his arms. The clock on the wall says you should be back here in six hours. Seven if you have a deadline.

“Laundry, probably” he replies, grabbing her shoulder as she goes to walk past him. “What happened?”

“There’s all this crap online. About you…”

“And?” he asks, rolling his eyes at the churning machine. It will die down eventually, Molly hasn’t seen this before, has never experienced the ferocity of media. He and Eric used to hide in alleyways away from them, after the first time they were photographed drunk… after the first time the were photographed at range, a naked woman on his lap…

“And her”

He’d never seen the world in black and white. Never imagined it could drain so completely of colour, every brushstroke of existence cracking and falling from his life’s canvas as it settles around him, ash filling his mouth as it falls like rain, whiting out his vision.

Molly’s stronger than he thought, shoving him backwards away from the door the minute he takes a step towards it.

“You can’t. Find your phone…”

“Fuck the phone Mols, move!”

“Wait! Just… D, hold on. You have to wait for just a second, ok? Look at me” She broadens her stance, blocking his path.

“I have to…” he starts.

“I know, trust me, I know. Owen agrees. Pack a bag. Find a hat of some kind and wait, can you give me an hour? Just one hour. Find your phone and charge it. And wait.”

She backs out of his apartment with her hands raised, some parody of a hostage negotiation as she retreats down the stairs. Dieter has never been good at waiting. He shoves clothes at random in a backpack, the shirt he likes you best in, a rolled canvas with a finished painting, three sticks of charcoal and a sketchbook, the dead hunk of plastic that is his phone. He finds a woollen beanie, crams it onto his head as he paces, shoving a mason jar of weed and a bottle of Makers into the backpack for good measure.

He makes lists in his head, checking the items off one by one. He washes his hands, he brushes his teeth. He touches the spot on his pillow where you woke this morning, he traces your palm print on the door to the balcony. He searches for a phone charger, he can’t find it.

Silence falls downstairs. The constant angry hum, the background noise of angry wasps dying within the hour. The lights are off downstairs, the café completely empty. He doesn’t lock the door behind him.

He makes a list as he walks. Of all the reasons he chose this city. You, the anonymity, you, the way nobody blinks an eye at a man in a woollen knit cap and sunglasses, mismatched crocs and a patchwork crocheted jumper walking down the street, you. He buys three muffins from a cart on the sidewalk, pays with a hundred and doesn’t ask for change.

He knows where you live, has had the address stored right next to your birthday, his parents wedding anniversary, right beside the memory of his first kiss. All the shiny pieces he keeps like a crow, the parts he picks and chooses to remember, the ones that feel the most important.

Your apartment block is the same as the surrounding. They fit together like Legos, the only individuality a splash of colour on the window. The stairwell has wallpaper, it’s yellowed and peeling at the edges. He can smell cooking, trash and the barest hint of happiness as he climbs the stairs. There is no banister, just concrete to cushion the fall.

*

The knock is loud. Your landlord sometimes wants the rent early, if she’s going on vacation and wants to line her pockets a little more, extra spending money for penny slots in Atlantic City, another packet of Marlborough Lights.

“It’s not the first!” You shout, unwilling to move from the couch, your throat raw and hoarse as you grab for another tissue, wish for a heavier blanket.

The knock comes again, harder this time. It shakes a leaf from your dead plant, you watch it spin gracefully to the floor. When they knock again, undeterred by your silence, you finally heave yourself from the couch, cursing under your breath as you blow your nose.

Dieter’s eyes are frantic as he grabs you, the door half open as he pulls you to him, lifting you up so your legs wrap around his waist, mumbling apologies into your neck as you squeak in surprise. He slams the door behind him, shrugging a heavy backpack off his shoulders as you shake in his arms. He knows the way to your couch without looking, falling back on it without letting you go, wrapping his arms around your back, squeezing your neck as you breathe him in. Paint and blueberries, a hint of weed.

“What do you want me to do?” he asks, pulling back to cup your cheek. “I can call Eric, he’ll call his team, I can set up an interview with someone properly. I’ll tell them whatever you want, that we’re just friends, you were comforting me. You can be my financial advisor, and I can apologise for being too handsy, give them something else to fight over?”

You shake your head, confused.

“I reckon I could get Oprah out of retirement for it. If they want, I’ll do some reunion thing for Rebel of Owls, let them poke and prod me onto a red carpet and wrap the story up. How do you want this to go?”

“What are you talking about?” You press your hand over his mouth, stifling his rambling. His hands are frantic on your skin, squeezing your hips, running up and down your spine, as though he’s forgotten the shape of you in the last six hours, as though he didn’t run soapy water over your thighs this morning, as if he didn’t map every curve with his mouth before you said goodbye.

“Molly told me” he said, taking a shaking breath as you pull your hand free. “About all the shit they’re saying about you online. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have grabbed you like that, I didn’t mean to…”

You press your hand over his mouth again. His brow furrows as you feel tears well in the back of your eyes. A sob escapes your throat before you bury your face in his neck, the rush of gratitude to overwhelming to hold back. He holds you as you cry, and you remember the almost clumsy hug he gave you the first time, as though his hands didn’t know what to do with your body, as if you were made of glass and precious stones.

“I’m so sorry” he says quietly.

“They’re going to fire me” you say, hiccupping into his neck. You feel him stiffen, the way his body goes rigid under yours.

“I’ll move back to LA” he replies.

“Why would you do that?” You lean back on his lap, see that his eyes are also sparkling, tears gathering in the corners.

“So, you can properly cut ties then. It’s some morality clause, right? Eric got kicked off a few projects for being busted with coke or molly. Was bad for the studio, bad for their image. As though they hadn’t built it off his name to begin with”

“Why would you think that’s what I want?” You ask, watching his features.

“You love that job. I know how important it is to you. And you’ve got such high ambitions for it. I can’t tie myself to you like concrete shoes. It’s not fair. We attended one party together, you can reasonably say you didn’t know who I was. I’ll back it.”

“I don’t want to lie about you too” you say quietly.

He shakes his head, grunting in disapproval when you place your hand over his mouth again, cutting off his speech.

“Everyone has lied about you. Twisted you into some kind of monster. I’ve been watching it happen, the way they took five photos of you and made you into something I know you’re not. I won’t add to it Dieter, don’t ask me to. I won’t pour gas on that fire, no matter what”

You have to say it first. It’s the only rule he’s managed to not break. He pours it into a kiss instead, grabbing both your hands and pressing them to his chest, feeling the way you twist your fingers in his clothing, knowing you’re really grabbing something else. Knowing its yours for the taking.

“I have a week off work” you say, letting him dry your tears with his sleeve. “There’s a spreadsheet on my laptop of all the ones we haven’t watched yet”

“Is there a good Thai place near here?” he asks, breathing properly for the first time as you smile.

*

Derek Brown’s Present Revealed.

Molly Orbison is a no nonsense kind of girl. With beads clicking at the end of her braids we all came to attention when she stood on the counter of the No Name coffee shop and proclaimed she couldn’t take it anymore.

“You’re missing the real story” was all she said, climbing down and leaving the store, her co-worker, Owen grimacing in her wake.

We followed out of curiosity, the merry band of paparazzi and reporters, scrounging and hopeful for a sound bite or a picture of the elusive recluse. Hidden from the media at least. The stories that circulated around his new alias were salacious and never ending. Top trending on Twitter three days running, beating out political infighting, a not-so-shocking loss for the Celtics, and the death of a celebrity.

We meet her in a small bar three blocks from the store. She clearly knows the bartender, a whiskey sour in her hand without a word exchanged. She pulled a file from nowhere, smacking Owen’s hand as he tried to stop her. We crowded around it, financial statements for the little coffee shop, which is aptly named No Name.

You could feel the excitement in the room, we were about to uncover something meaty and real. No more gossip on the number of sexual partners, no more second hand rumours of drugs or orgies or homosexual encounters. This was embezzlement, this was money laundering, this was something tangible and printable that wasn’t a rumour. Instead we stood confused, looking at the salaries for the listed employees.

Derek Brown - $1.

“Dig into that, you fucking vultures” was all Molly said before she turned her back on us, starting a conversation with the bartender, asking if he’d gotten around to clearing out his apartment yet.

So we did. Using the investigative chops, I’ll admit most of us had forgotten, we started digging. Dieter (as he’s been known for more than a decade) takes an annual salary of $1 from the No Name business. The rest of his income is royalties and interest, a comfortable existence. He owns the building outright, the purchase made through a legal subsidiary out of nowhere. He’s a landlord, owning a smattering of apartment buildings throughout the continental United States.

When we called, the tenants gushed about their management.

“They forgave a year’s rent during COVID. All the residents. Nobody asked, we just got a letter one day, saying no rent for a year. Haven’t heard a thing since.”

Then there’s the employees. Owen and Molly are full time, paid well above minimum wage, plus tips. Below them are dozens of names, some listed for months, others just weeks, some have been on the books for more than a two years.

They were reluctant to talk to us at first, peeking warily through door frames as we explained we were reporters. But they all worked for Dieter in some capacity. All of them had been homeless. Some were employed as night time security, others as waste management, others as cleaners.

“He asked me to watch the shop at night. Bang on the door if I thought he was gonna get robbed” Mr Richard Appleby says, sitting in the living room of his new apartment. “I thought he was a little weird, but I was sleeping in the alleyway behind his shop, so who am I to judge?”

He was shocked when Dieter gave him a paycheck the next day. And then another, the week after that, again, well above minimum wage.

“He could have just given me money. I didn’t understand why he was doing it at first. I tried to give em back. He refused, just told me to keep up the good work. I bought food, clothes. First time in winter I didn’t have socks with holes in em. Opened a bank account, deposited the cheques. And then suddenly, I had stable employment. Once you’ve got that… well its easier to get more”

The stories are the same, one after another until you find the dozen or more people he’s indirectly helped into stable housing. When you find the art supplies and art donated to public schools anonymously, the overordering of stock that’s donated to food banks.

When we return to the No Name café in the days following, Molly and Owen are rightly smug. They’re more than happy to talk to us, rub it in a little as we sheepishly post our findings.

“He’s not here. He won’t be for a while” Owen says. “And by the time he is you all will have cleared out to pick at another carcass”

“You only looked for the worst in him” Molly continued. “He’s only ever looked for the best in others. He finds it too, his girl, she’s helping me get my student loans forgiven. No other reason than she’s a good person too. And you all liked and retweeted bullshit about his ‘mystery woman’ calling her a whore. Did that feel good? Get enough clicks?”

It’s a brutal assessment, but not an untrue one. In looking through the press coverage we can all see the signs, the spiral of viciousness we all fell into, the ease with which we speculated in his absence, how we took his silence for deceit. How we used those tenants of cancellation, which can be such pillars for holding our leaders accountable, as a weapon to tear someone to shreds.

“Dieter deserves to be left alone. He’s left you all alone, give him that same respect.”

She’s right. With our sincerest apologies, we close this chapter on Derek Brown. Leaving him as a titan of the past. And as for the private life of Dieter Bravo? Well, that’s really none of our business.

HuffPo

*

Dieter’s round bed never made sense. Until you slept with him in yours. He spreads out like creeping ivy, limbs dangling free beneath sheets and blankets that won’t stay tucked in. He chases you throughout the night, pulling you both into the middle, tangling your limbs into a knot you have no desire to untie. He snores. Just a little, just enough to tickle in between your shoulder blades as you scroll through Twitter.

“I knew it.” “Cancel culture is out of control” “I knew he was a good person all along” “See, that must be the girlfriend, look at how he’s touching her, he must love her a lot” “You all should be ashamed of yourselves, thinking this was news”

You roll your eyes. The 180 on Dieter has been swift enough to make your head swim. Owen and Molly texted you a selfie, 2am drunk at a bar flipping off the camera with a smile. Their photos in the article made them look like gods, surrounded by a tornado of chaos, the only pillars of calm.

It took three days to undo it. Three days of sitting in your apartment with Dieter, arguing the merits of Baby Jane over Human Bondage, throwing pad Thai at each other when you didn’t agree. He bought a painting with him, the first one with your thumb print. It ties the room together in a way you didn’t think was possible, the stars seeming to glitter from the rolled canvas.

Your phone vibrates in your hand. Its easier to extract yourself from his embrace on a square bed, the edges more easily found. You’re wearing his favourite shirt, and you shut the door behind you as you creep down the hallway, pressing the start button on your ancient coffee pot. Your living room looks lived in. The plant in the corner a little less brown. There are empty takeout containers on your coffee table, Dieters pants on the floor, landing there when you decided against making it to the bedroom.

Your bosses voice sounds harsh in the morning. Like sandpaper on your skin as you half listen to her greeting, searching for your favourite mug in the cupboard. You hum acknowledgement that you’re listening as you wait for the coffee to finish brewing, the scent of the beans ground beans Owen dropped off yesterday filling your living room.

“As I was saying, you have been missed this week. I just wanted to touch base with you, see how you’re feeling now that…”

“Now that the tide has turned on my partner? He’s not the internets pariah anymore?” You ask, holding your phone between your shoulder as you pour yourself a cup of coffee.

You hear Dieter stir, somehow always drawn to the sound of your voice as you watch him emerge from your bedroom. His face is drawn in an imitation scowl as he walks towards you, naked and uncaring, to wrap his arm around your waist, bury his face in your neck. You feel his fingers creep up the hemline of your shirt and jump away, suppressing a smile at his mock whine.

Your boss is still talking, halfway through an explanation of corporate values as you watch Dieter, the way he squares his shoulders, preparing to lift you onto the cleared counter space. You let out a laugh when he does exactly that, humming happily as he stands between your spread thighs. Your underwear long destroyed in the days since he turned up on your doorstep.

“Are you listening to me?”

“No.” You reply, feeling Dieter’s palms on your thighs. “I’m not. And honestly, after this year with working for the company, I’m not sure why I ever did.”

Dieter stills, looking up at you with a furrowed brow. You place a hand over his mouth and continue.

“I appreciate the opportunities given to me by your company, but in using this time to reflect as suggested, I’ve decided that your companies values no longer align with my own. I won’t be returning to the office at the end of the week. You didn’t allow personal items at our desks so there wont be anything for me to collect. I’ll have my key card couriered there by the end of business Friday.”

You hear her splutter on the phone, the sharp breath to retain composure.

“Also, my sexual deviant boyfriend is pretty sure Mr Taylor has a sex dungeon. You might want to look into that if you’re so concerned with company values”

You feel Dieters laugh through your fingers, he doesn’t wait for you to move your hand before he kisses you, that same dizzy consuming feeling making you feel as though galaxies are forming in your skin, fizzing and bursting into existence, monumental in their very presence.

“You sure?” he asks, pressing his lips to your jaw.

“Very” you reply, sinking into his embrace.

Molly calls him two days later. Having finally found a phone charger he answers on the second ring. He puts it on speaker as she explains that while they’re still busy, the press has moved on, some new scandal gripping their attention, a reason to circle someone else like piranhas scenting blood.

“So, get your ass back here”

“Miss you too Mols” he says

“I don’t miss you, but bring Lou, I’ve got questions about this form”

You laugh, agreeing as Dieter shoves his clothing back into the backpack, watching as you pack your journal into your bag, neatly distributing makeup and clean underwear throughout the compartments.

He’s holding your plant when you emerge from the bedroom, keys in hand. Hoisting the thing onto his hip he holds the door open for you as you leave. You get looks as you walk towards the café. Some recognising Dieter, others just staring at the guy with mismatched crocs and dead plant.

It smells like coming home. Fresh coffee and sugared blueberries and Owen yelps at your arrival, abandoning the machine to wrap an arm around your neck in greeting. Molly doesn’t move from the counter, her leg swinging in a lazy pendulum as she throws you a smile and a subtle wink in greeting.

The sign makes you laugh. Emblazoned in bold font above her head is a crude sign

If you ask about Dieter, we will spit in your coffee

“The smiley face was my idea. Makes it more customer friendly” Molly says, reaching out with a stack of receipts to hand to you. “These are for you”

“What are they?” You ask, looking through the names and phone numbers scrawled in sharpie on the back.

“People looking for help with student loans, I think? I told them I’d give them to you, didn’t say what you’d do with them though – figured you’d be pretty busy with the end of the year and the final decision on your internship”

“About that…” you start, before Dieter grabs you around the waist.

“Want you all to myself just a little longer Loulou” he whispers, biting down on your neck. You notice a few eyes skitter towards you, the tables in the café with a few turned heads. Nobody says anything.

“Molly has them well trained” Owen says, rolling his eyes as he returns to steaming milk. “You should go upstairs – that plant looks like it needs all the help it can get”

Dieter nods agreement, pulling you towards the beaded curtain as you wave a quick goodbye to Molly, your eyes on the slips of paper in your hands. There’s lots of them, names and numbers. A few have quick descriptions of why they’re looking for you. Student loans, medical debt, payday loans. You tuck them inside your bag, sliding them inside the pocket of your journal while you look at the plant on Dieter’s hip.

“I don’t know why you insisted on bringing that thing Dieter, it’s dead”

He scoffs, hitching the plant higher in his grip.

“Nothing is ever that permanent Bette.”

He must have left the TV running the day he came to your apartment. It’s blaring through the walls as you climb the stairwell, some infomercial for a kitchen gadget echoing out into the hallway. It’s not until you hear the thump of heavy footfalls that you still, turning to Dieter for his reaction.

His eyes roll as he reaches for your hand, giving it a quick squeeze. He hooks his pinkie through yours and meets your eye.

“Sorry in advance” he mutters, before leading you through the door.

“Brownies are in the oven, I ordered pizza because I couldn’t wait, where the fuck have you been?!”

There’s not much you can do but stand in stunned silence as Eric Webster, one of the most famous faces in the world, gently lifts your dead plant from Dieter’s grip before wrapping him in a crushing hug.

[falsegoodnight]

40 :D

40. “I never stood a chance, did I?”

(soulmate au for the soulmate au queen)

content warnings: war setting, mentions of blood and injury, nothing described too graphically. 

+

“Are you ready?” Zayn murmured as Lieutenant Davison stepped in between the tent flaps.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Louis said, trying to calm the racing of his heart. 

Together, they followed the chief nurse into the tent. Louis was immediately aware of three things. The first was the smell. The sharp sterile scent of medicine mixed with the heavy odor of strained pheromones, sweat, dirt, and blood. Sour and sticky, Louis felt it sink into his nose. The second was that there were so many people, soldiers lying on cots in every direction. Louis stared in horror, unable to count all the bodies. Everywhere he looked, he saw blood.

The final thing was not an observation so much as a realization. There must’ve been over sixty alphas crowded in the tent, some crying out in pain and others wearing blank, distant looks. Most if not all bore visible injuries. Sixty soldiers, and three of them.

“Oh my,” Lieutenant Morrison spoke after a lengthy pause. She turned to them with a grave look. “Get to work, I’ll go and request further assistance. Triage, then the worst first. You know what to do.” 

Zayn and he looked at each other, grim resolve settling in each of their faces. “Yes, lieutenant,” they reply. She nodded at them before slipping out of the tent.

“Nurse,” one soldier cried out, blowing their temporary cover. A single voice followed by dozens of others, desperation stark and bitter in the air. Louis felt it in his bones. “Nurse, nurse!” 

They rushed forward. 

It was as if time seemed to pass in a blur. Louis felt as if he were drifting through a dream, limbs and body working mechanically but relentlessly. He assessed, treated, and transferred, becoming numb to the hollow pleas and curses bombarding him on all sides. Everywhere he looked, he saw more atrocities — mutilated limbs and angry burns. One alpha tried to grab him, fingers clasping at the white of his nurse uniform. Please, he was saying, eyes bloodshot and skin sickly pale, hair matted to his skull. Louis had wrenched himself back, nausea clawing up his throat. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. 

The smell of blood seemed to embed itself in his skin, breathed in with every breath and woven into his lungs. He wondered if it would slip off once he finally left the confines of the tent and the horrors it encased, or if the smell would stick to him for much longer, haunting him in his sleep. It was impossible to know how long he had been at this already, time fading away as Louis stumbled from soldier to soldier. Davison returned eventually with two fellow nurses in tow, but Louis still felt like he was drowning in patients. 

He didn’t realize his hands had started shaking until he nearly dropped a bandage. “I’m sorry,” he blurted, words playing on repeat in his head. These poor soldiers. 

“It’s okay,” someone replied, and he squeezed his eyes shut.

But it’s not. He opened them immediately after. There was no time to hesitate — every second that passed was a life that could have been saved. He appraised the patient and was surprised to meet his eyes, a startling intensity and awareness hidden in their green depths. It was as if an electrical current had struck him. Most of the soldiers had been too consumed in their own pain, eyes either clamped shut or widened from shock, not focused on him at all. Brushing it off, Louis’ eyes found the open wound exposed on the alpha’s abdomen, uniform rucked up. A bullet wound, but not deep. There were some small burns spreading up his forearm too, but nothing severe. 

“You’re going to be fine,” Louis said, relieved to be able to give some positive news. He gave the alpha a pill for the pain and set to work cleaning the wound, trying to quell the quivering in his fingers. “I’m sorry,” he said again. 

The soldier was quiet for a moment, before clearing his throat. “You’re going to be fine too,” he said gently. 

It struck Louis deep to his core. He met the alpha’s eyes again, seeing the kindness layered there. His face was streaked with dirt and heavy bags lined his under-eyes, but he was undeniably handsome. Louis felt some of the tension leave his shoulders, offering the soldier a shaky and maybe a little shy smile before returning to his work. 

“Thank you,” he said when Louis finished, and Louis had enough time to murmur a “You’re welcome,” before his attention was being called elsewhere. 

By the time Louis finally left the tent, it was supper time. 

+

Louis felt exhausted as he stuttered through dinner, still wearing his blood-stained uniform. There seemed to have been an unspoken silence amongst the dining hall, some still replaying the scenes they witnessed in the tent and others only imagining. He returned to his quarters and immediately stripped from his uniform, feeling as if he were peeling off all the distress and panic he experienced as well. 

It wasn’t until Zayn entered the room and gasped that he managed to pry his lips apart. “Knock next time, will you?” he muttered, slipping his nightshirt over his head. They’d seen each other naked on accident more than once previously, and he didn’t understand what the drama was for. 

But Zayn looked pale when he looked up to meet his face. “Lou,” he said slowly. 

“What?” Louis said, a creeping sense of foreboding settling on his skin.

“Your stomach,” Zayn tripped out. “Louis, you got your soulmark.” 

Frozen in place, Louis was unable to move, words repeating in his head over and over. Soulmark, soulmark, soulmark. It took everything in him to look down, fingers curling around the hem of the cotton and dragging it up. 

The sight that greeted him felt like a blow to the heart. A cluster of honeysuckles were inked across his skin, dark and undeniable.

“It had to have been one of the soldiers, right?” Zayn asked, voice dropped to a whisper. “Shit, Louis.”

Louis thought back to the tent full of alphas, faces already blurred in his mind — a sea of suffering. Nausea rose in him. “Fuck.”

“Okay, do you remember talking to any soldier?” Zayn asked desperately. “I think the soulmark only appears if you interact directly. That narrows it down.” 

“I talked to multiple –” He trailed off, kind green eyes flashing in his vision. He remembered what felt like a shock that had gone through him. “I know who it is,” he breathed.

“You do?” Zayn said, surprised. “That’s great.”

“No,” Louis said, earlier nausea returning. “No, it’s not great. I didn’t know – I didn’t learn his name. It’s not allowed. He didn’t learn mine either. And now he’s gone, Zayn. What – what am I supposed to do?” The company had left after dinner and Louis had watched from his seat as the mass of soldiers disappeared into the night. He watched as his soulmate walked away. 

Zayn looked stricken. “You guys are soulmates,” he said firmly. “You’ll find each other again regardless. That’s how it works.”

“It is?” Louis said flatly. “This is war. A lot of things work differently now.” It occurred to him then that his soulmate was a soldier. He was probably marching to the front lines as they spoke. “He could die tomorrow and I wouldn’t even know,” he whispered, throat dry. “I never stood a chance, did I?” The war had stolen so much from him already, he shouldn’t have been surprised. 

Neither of them said another word. 

+

[fluffykitty1999-blog]

Dog of the Military- Chapter 5

Lots of whumph here. And a bit of medical care.

Chapter 5- Triage

They got a room on the second floor- as soon as Roy unlocked the door, Ed strode in, albeit shakily. Roy expected the first thing the boy would go for was the bed, but to his surprise, Ed opened the door to the bathroom, turning on the tap and sticking his head under the water, drinking straight from the faucet.

The kid spent a good three minutes just drinking, and Roy realized with a sinking sense of certainty that Ed obviously hadn't been given water in a long time.

"When was the last time you drank anything, Fullmetal?"

"Last night. That lady- the Lieutenant- she snuck me a mug of water."

Ed strode out of the bathroom, falling into the closest bed and letting out a long sigh.

"And the last time you ate anything?"

"Uh... a day or two?" Ed mumbled into the pillow.

Roy felt indignation burn in his chest. "Right. So you get back and Banks threw you in a cell with no food or water for two days?"

"Pretty much."

Roy wanted to kick a hole in the wall. But he didn't. Ed sounded half asleep, anyways.

"Do you have any clean clothes?"

"Back at the fort, I think."

"Right." That was out, then. Roy would have to buy the kid something to wear- the kid's shirt was basically rags anyways.

"What else did he do to you, Fullmetal?" Roy tried to keep the anger from his voice.

"I don't wanna talk about it."

Roy wanted to push the issue. He really did. But he was pulled from his thoughts by a knock at the door.

"Hello?" he pulled the door partially open, only to be met with the innkeeper- a rather homely looking woman- who was looking at him tentatively.

She held a plate in her hands, and a fresh loaf of brown bread was sitting on it, as well as a mug of broth. "I brought you this." Despite the fact she was talking to Roy, her eyes seemed to search the room behind him. Ed really had been a sight- shambling, bloodied as he was, through her lobby a few minutes ago.

Roy looked over the offering, nodding. "Thank you."

He stepped out into the hallway, shutting the door behind him. "Is there a doctor in this town?"

The woman nodded. "Shall I send for him?"

"That would be helpful if you could, thank you."

The woman nodded, handing him the plate of food, before she scurried back down the hall.

Roy stepped back into the room- Ed didn't make a move at the sound of his entrance- he was still sprawled out on his stomach on the bed. Roy tried to ignore the blood stains on the back of the boy's shirt.

"Wake up, Fullmetal. The innkeeper was nice enough to bring you some food."

"Hmm?" Ed lifted his head, managing to turn over in bed and carefully sitting up, tearing into the loaf of brown bread as through his life depended on it and finishing the mug of broth in a few gulps before sighing in contentment and laying back.

"We need to talk about what happened to you, Ed." Roy spoke up from where he sat on his own bed.

"Do we really, though?" Ed mumbled. "I got the information, we're going home- that's pretty much what matters."

"Colonel Banks tortured you, Ed. To try and get that information. I intend on filing an official complaint against him for the imprisonment and torture of a state alchemist. If I'm going to do that, I need details on what happened to you."

"I got back and wanted to catch a train to Central asap. Colonel Banks wasn't going to let me leave without giving him the information. That's pretty much all there is to it." Ed said simply.

They were interrupted by a knock on the door. Roy stood, opening it to find a doctor- a rather careworn man with thick-rimmed glasses a a black medical bag- standing outside.

"Good evening, Sir. I was told you were in need of my services?"

Roy nodded. "Thank you for coming. Come in..."

The doctor stepped inside the room, looking over to see Ed lying on the bed and nodding.

"Good evening, young man."

"Hello." Ed narrowed his eyes, looking at Mustang. "Who's this?"

"This is the local doctor. He's going to check you over- since you refuse to talk about what Banks did to you, someone needs to treat your injuries..."

"I'm fine." Ed protested.

"Then prove it. Let him look you over. Humor me here, Fullmetal."

Ed frowned.

"Let's start by taking off your shirt, if you don't mind." The doctor gave Ed a reassuring smile. He had a kind face, despite his obvious age- the man looked like he'd been in his profession for decades, and probably had several grandchildren. It was different than the sort of young, sterile lab coat clad upstarts Ed was used to in the hospital. Ed didn’t like to admit it, but the man seemed... nice. For a doctor.

Ed sighed, but obliged, unbuttoning his white shirt and shrugging it off, trying to hide his wince as he did so.

Roy hadn't been prepared for the mess of injuries beneath the boy's clothing.

Half a dozen perfect circular burns spotted the boy's left side. Ed's ribs and chest were a splattering of black and blue, violet bruises blossoming on his torso. There was a rather deep cut on the bicep of Ed's flesh arm, in addition to his black eye, swollen lip, and the cut that ran over his left eyebrow and ended just after it crossed the bridge of his nose.

As shocked as Roy was, the doctor took in the scene before him with practiced professionalism, nodding solemnly.

"I'll need to clean these wounds, young man." He pulled a jar and some gauze from his bag, quickly but carefully swabbing the cigarette burns with moist gauze, dabbing them dry, and smearing a salve onto them before he was taping a bandage over them with meticulous but gentle hands.

He moved onto the wound on Ed's arm- it was three inches long, and rather deep, and he frowned, cleaning away the blood. "This will need stitches, I'm afraid."

"I don't like needles." Ed said firmly.

The doctor nodded, withdrawing a vial from his bag. "That's perfectly understandable, son. I'm going to ask you to close your eyes- you'll feel a pinch and a burn, but only for a brief moment."

Once the doctor was sure Ed had closed his eyes, he withdrew a syringe from his bag, drawing up some of the drug in the vial and carefully injecting a small amount of either side of the cut.

Ed frowned, twitching at the sensation. "What are you doing?"

"Just preparing the wound, son." the doctor set the syringe aside, threading a needle with practiced ease and expertly beginning to suture the wound. Ed didn't flinch as the needle pierced his skin, completely unaware. Roy realized he'd numbed the boy well enough that Ed didn't even realized he was being stitched.

"You can open your eyes now, son." the doctor made sure to tuck his syringe, needle and thread back into his bag before giving the boy the instruction.

Ed opened his eyes, looking surprised to see the wound neatly sutured shut. Before he could examine it too closely, the doctor wrapped a bandage around it, nodding to Ed.

"Now that all the open wounds are taken care of, I'd like to feel your chest and abdomen- check for broken bones and such."

"Okay." Ed said, though he narrowed his eyes, looking at the doctors hands. "But if your hands are freezing I'm gonna bite you."

It was such a childish threat that Roy was stopped cold for a moment, but the doctor simply laughed. "Of course, I know- nothing less fun than cold hands and stethoscopes." he rubbed his hands together for half a minute to warm them, looking to Ed for permission. "May I, young man?"

Ed nodded, and the doctor carefully ran his hands over the boy's chest and ribs, starting at the top and working his way down. He moved with a gentle but practiced ease. Still, Ed tensed up, sucking in a breath, when the doctor came across a rather sore area. The doctor saw how Ed tensed up and stilled. "Sorry, lad. It must hurt a bit there, yeah?"

"I wasn't sure if they were bruised or broken." Ed admitted, voice barely above a whisper. The doctor nodded sympathetically, before he continued down the boy's abdomen, carefully feeling his stomach before concluding. "Mostly bruised, one broken." he confirmed. Ed gave a tired nod.

"Any other injuries that need attention?"

"His back."

Ed glowered at Roy, looking betrayed, but he gingerly elbowed his way onto his stomach anyways.

Ed's back was less serious, but still marred by 3 rather large cuts. The doctor cleaned and examined them all, before nodding. "I think the smaller two will heal nicely with just some bandages, but I'll have to suture the deepest one." the doctor nodded to the four inch cut that was rather deep.

"Just get it over with then." Ed groused. Once again, he didn't complain as the doctor skillfully numbed the wound before stitching it, daubing more salve on all the wounds before taping a gauze pad over them.

"Now then, let's see to your face."

Ed rolled onto his back, letting the doctor carefully clean the cut above his eye and dab at his smaller scratches before sitting back.

There was a knock at the door, and the doctor strode over to open it. The inn keeper stood in the doorway, a steaming cup of tea in hand. "Ah, Mrs. Berkley, just as I requested. Thank you."

He pulled a small brown bottle from his bag, putting a splash of whatever medicine was inside it into the steaming mug of tea and handing it to Ed.

"Drink up, son."

Ed took a long sip, snacking his lips and frowning, making an odd face. "Tastes weird."

The doctor laughed. "Yes, it should. It's normally a strong tea, but it tastes better than the medicine itself."

"What medicine?"

"Just something to ease any soreness you might have and help you get some rest. You should drink it all- help to relieve any pain. Especially your chest."

Ed nodded, taking another long sip and closing his eyes, appearing to relax some. By the time he was mostly through with a mug, his eyes had grown heavy, and before long, Ed was fast asleep.

The doctor smiled down at the sleeping boy, carefully plucking the mostly-empty mug from the boy's hands and setting it on the beside table.

The doctor moved to clean his glasses, nodding to Roy. "Any questions for me..." he paused, squinting at the bars on Mustang's uniform "Colonel?"

Roy nodded, looking up from Ed's sleeping form. "What did they do to him?"

"You saw the cigarette burns yourself. Several cuts from a rather sharp blade, and contusions on his chest- I assume the boy was kicked quite hard."

"Will he be alright?"

"With time, I don't see why he won't make a full recovery." the doctor conceded. "Though I don't exactly understand who would inflict such injuries upon a boy..."

"Colonel Banks, the ranking officer at Fort Goldenfield. I'll be filing an official complaint against him, there's no excuse for what he did to my subordinate." Roy's charcoal gaze flared, before he turned his serious gaze to the doctor. "Would you be willing to write a statement in regards to Ed's injuries?"

"Of course." the doctor nodded. He pulled a small amber bottle from his bag. It contained a few pills. "I've given him a dose of laundrum- he should rest well through the night. If he's uncomfortable in the morning, give him two of these every four hours."

Roy took the pills, nodding. "Thank you for helping him. What do I owe you?"

"No need to settle that now. I assume I can send the bill to your military office, as well as the statement regarding Edward's injuries, Mr...?"

"Mustang." Roy quickly stuck out his hand, and the doctor shook it. "Colonel Roy Mustang."

Roy grabbed a pen and paper and quickly wrote down the address for his office in Central, giving it to the doctor.

"Right. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Mustang. I'll prepare the documents and mail them off first thing in the morning. I can stop in to see Edward tomorrow if you'd like, as well."

"I appreciate the offer, but I don't think we'll be in the area that long. We were planning on catching the first train to Central in the morning. If you think he's well enough to travel?"

"Ah, of course. I don't see any issue with him traveling. As I said, if he's uncomfortable give him those pills."

"Thank you doctor."

"Not a problem, not a problem. My number is on the medicine bottle, feel free to call if anything changes."

The doctor quietly left, leaving Roy in the inn room as night approached with a sleeping Edward.

Roy sighed, covering the sleeping blond with a blanket and locking the door to their room, stepping into the hallway to find a pay phone.

He had some calls to make.

Obligatory ko-fi button. Do you like papa Roy’s characterization here?

https://ko-fi.com/fluffykitty12

[tomtenadia]

Island Dreams - Chapter 8

Hello people :)

here's chapter 8 for you. This chapter is a turning point in Aelin and Rowan's relationship. Nothing major... but definitely a major development for them.

I hope you love it.

Gaelic: "Thig a-steach. - come in

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

The next morning the weather was giving its worst. A terrible storm had abated on the town. According to the news from Aelin’s phone the wind had reached peak speeds over 120kph during the night. And she had heard that. Her windows had rattled all night long. She has spent the night hidden under the duvet trying to ignore the storm outside. She had been scared. Heavy rain had fallen non stop. On top of that the town had suffered a major power cut and they had been without power since the middle of the night. When morning finally came she opened the curtains and noted the sky laden with dark clouds. The rain was still heavy and the sea was angry. The pier was empty and she assumed the ferry did not manage to travel that morning. It would have been one heck of a hellish crossing. In the distance she heard sirens from the emergency services and guessed that the damage was quite bad. Very quickly she got dressed and then tried to phone Rowan and suddenly realised that, apart from the number of the shop, she had no other way of contact him. An error that had to be rectified immediately. She wore a few layers of clothing and a waterproof jacket and then left the house. Once out of the house she discovered that the wind still had not abated and it was howling.

A massive wave crashed against the pier and the spray reached all the way to her “Bloody hell.” She braced herself and ran. Ran all the way to Rowan’s and by the she time arrived she was soaked through and freezing. She reached the shop and of course it was closed. So next stop was Maeve’s. Once there she found Rowan helping Maeve cleaning up the coffee shop which looked like it had suffered some flooding “Morning.” She said sleepily. Maeve noticed her “Aelin darling, come in please it’s horrible outside.” Looking around she noticed that most of the water had been cleared and she and Rowan had created a safe corner with two camping gas stoves. It looked like Maeve had coffee on the go and some sort of warm breakfast. In that moment she was greater for the woman’s resourcefulness. “How are you?” Asked Rowan moving closer to her. When he noticed she was shivering her pulled her to him “You are cold.” He brushed his hands on her back to try and heat her up a bit “Take off the jacket, it’s wet and cold. Not good.” He left for a moment and came back with a hoodie in his hands “Put this on. Maeve has gas heating in here which is still working and it was on the radiator.” Aelin grabbed the hoodie and wore it and it was warm and soft on her skin. She snuggled in it and breathed in the scent. Pine and snow. That was Rowan’s scent. “Can I help with anything?” She offered. “My aunt is trying to prepare breakfast enough to offer it to first responders and people who need it as well. Some of the houses closer to the waterfront have suffered heavy flooding.” Then he stopped and realised he had no idea where she lived and if her house was safe. “Is your house okay?” Aelin nodded, “I live towards the end of Newton st. and I am further away from the pier. But the road was flooded and my garden was swimming as well. But the house is fine a part from not having power.” “The whole town is down.” “I kinda guessed.” Maeve reappeared at the front “Rowan darling, go and tell the first responders that I have food, coffee and tea ready. Food is very basic given the situation but at least I have something. Aelin and I will hand out provisions.” Inside Maeve’s shop it was quite nice and cozy and slowly people started to flock in, in search of some relief, warmth and a dry place. "Thig a-steach.” She said to the people and Aelin helped handing out the food. Some people stopped to talk to her, fascinated by the Londoner who had moved to Stornoway and was learning Gaelic. A few grandmas had even played matchmaking with their handsome and single grandsons. Rowan came back half an hour later with a couple of firemen. She hoped Maeve’s place was okay. She really loved it there. Aelin walked up to Rowan and the firemen “Hi,” she said interrupting them “My name is Aelin. I am doctor. Is there anything I can do to help?” One of the firemen looked at her ��We have set up a temporary tent operating as triage. A couple of paramedics are looking after the minor cases. The ones that do not have to go to the hospital. We are trying not to overwhelm the A&E.” Aelin had done enough shifts in overwhelmed A&E especially on a Saturday night and knew how bad it was. “Take me there, please. I can help. I want to help.” One of the firemen nodded. Aelin noticed that he looked familiar and wondered if that was Elias’ brother. Rowan looked at Aelin and gave her a smile. Then she removed the hoodie “Keep it warm and dry for me for when I come back.” He nodded and took the hoodie back. “Oh, and by the way… you know that that hoodie is now mine, don’t you?” “I’ll make sure it smells a lot like me when you come back.” And gave her a huge grin in response. “You better.” She added with a smile and followed the fireman out of the shop. Once arrived at the tent the fireman explained the situation to the two paramedic women and they were very grateful for the extra help. Aelin got all geared up and began working through the queue. Their patients were mostly minor injuries but still, it gave her back the vibes and the adrenaline of an A&E. By the time lunch and afternoon came, Aelin was exhausted and famished. But it was a good exhausted. She had helped. Made a difference and it helped her renew the love for the job she had chosen. Not long after she finished, Rowan showed up at the tent. “Hey,” he said staying on the threshold. Aelin removed her gloves and went to him. “How’s aunt Maeve’s shop doing?” “Fine. The fire dept gave us more camping gas stoves. She called a couple of the other staff members and now they have a full kitchen up for the people and everyone working.” Then he lifted a bag “And I am bringing lunch. Aunt’s orders.” “Thank you. I am starving.” He smiled, deposited the bag on the floor and zipped up her paramedic jacket “It’s cold outside.” He picked up the bag of food again and took her hand in his “Come.” “Uh?” “We are going to have lunch in a quiet and dry place.” “Okay.” He put an arm around her shoulder and tucked her close to him while they were walking along the road. She loved the feeling of being so close to him. His scent relaxed her. “Where are we going?” “My place.” Aelin turned to him in disbelief. When they finally arrived at his place she noticed he stayed in a small semi-detached house and he had a well tended garden. The house seemed very cozy. She followed him inside removed her jacket and her shoes and stood there. “Go to the living room.” And he passed her the bag full of food. “I’ll go and get some stuff.” Tentatively she took a few steps inside the room. The curtains were still drawn so the place was bathed in darkness. She took her phone from he jeans and switched on the torch. Once having reached the windows safely, she opened the curtain to let the light in. She then turned and noticed the incredible amount of books. That room was paradise. He had books everywhere, in all the possible nooks and crannies. “I run out of space a long time ago. I have my least favourite in the attic. I just love books.” And he shrugged. “This living room is just wonderful. I am so jealous right now.” “I have some candles. The light coming from the outside is not much and this should help.” He placed a few candles around the house and she laughed when she noticed they were battery powered. “Really? You just killed the mood.” He looked up at her grinning “There is no way I light up real fire near so many books. Such a massive hazard.” Aelin laughed and started unpacking the food containers and placing the stuff on the plates he had brought through. “I put the heating on as well, so it should get cozy soon.” “Come sit down and eat. You must be hungry too.” And she patted the spot beside her. He nodded and sat beside her. They ate quietly. Aelin a few times did try to start a conversation but always stopped not sure if he wanted to talk or not. “Did you go to uni?” She asked. That was a safe question, hopefully. “I did. I studied business management in Glasgow. It came quite useful once I opened my bookshop.” “How the idea came about? To open the shop?” She noticed Rowan stiffen. Shit. Wrong question already. Rowan breathed deeply and decided it was time to listen to his aunt. It was time to open up. He placed his plate on the coffee table “There was this girl, Lyria.” He started, and the usual tug of pain was still there. “We met at uni down in Glasgow. She was from the islands as well. We started dating after we both came back here after graduating.” He closed his eyes and leaned a bit deeper on the back couch “I always loved books. But I hated the idea of using my degree for a boring corporate job. It was not for me. So I started working on an idea: open a bookshop.” He breathed deeply again, trying to chase away the pain “My parents had passed in an accident when I was little but they left me a fund. It allowed me to buy this house and also have enough money left to start my shop. So I used every penny to buy an empty shop in town, I did it up and a year later I had my shop.” Aelin stretched a hand and placed on his, now in a fist on his knee. “I knew Lyria was looking for a job so I offered her one and we started working together. We picked the name of the shop and began thinking about what books to have. She was not a proper bookworm like me, but she liked books enough.” Aelin looked at him and noticed the pain in his eyes. What had this woman done to him to cause him such anguish? “We started dating. Quite seriously. She moved in with me after a while. We started talking about the future, dreams and whatnot. I was never one for flings. I was committed to her to the fullest. I wanted a family, a nice house and kids. The whole package. At the time she told me she wanted it too. And I believed her.” He stood irritated and walked to the window “Just over a year ago I proposed to her. I was ready and she gave me the impression that she was ready too.” “Shit.” “About nine months ago she started getting weird with me. Some nights she would not come home and I later found out she was staying at a friend’s house. She barely talked to me anymore and we stopped…being intimate. She started making up excuses why she was not in the mood. Then all of a sudden she stopped coming to the bookstore and she never bothered to tell me why.” Hi voice now a mere whisper. “Finally I decided to confront her and find out what was happening. She told she was getting cold feet, that she didn’t want to get married anymore, that she made a mistake and she thought she loved me but it was more an infatuation. She told me that my obsession with having a family was freaking her out. But I never pushed the whole kids issue. I was happy to wait for her to be ready. She told me we wanted different things and that I had to go and find myself a woman who wanted all that because she was not the one. The next day she came to the bookshop and gave me back the ring.” Aelin reached him at the window and put a hand on his shoulder “I am sorry, but what a bitch.” She heard a very soft chuckle “I called her worse. Apparently my aunt spotted her a few times with a guy while we were still engaged. I never knew if she was fully cheating on me as well. Anyway, she got a job at An Lanntair.” Aelin face lit up in surprise “Is she a brunette? Brownish eyes?” Rowan nodded “Shit. The first day I was here I went inside and then asked for a bookshop and she told me to look for Rowan’s. Not the name of the shop but yours.” “I can’t go in there anymore, And I love that place but the idea of seeing her…” She took his hands and squeezed it. Then she leaned against his back and hugged him from behind. He did not shy away from the contact. On the contrary he grabbed her hands on his stomach and squeezed them tightly. “Sounds we both have horrible exes.” Aelin knew that was the time. She had to open up to him. She did it with Elias but it had not felt satisfying. She had a feeling that opening up to Rowan was her chance to finally move on and begin to heal. “What do you mean?” He asked not moving from the position they were in and Aelin thanked him for that. It felt perfect. “I was married, Rowan. Until a year ago I was married.” She felt him stiffen “What did he do?” His tone was cold. “He was a police office. We met at the hospital after his partner got injured badly. We had coffee… we hit it off, the usual thing. We started dating and I was happy.” She felt his hands squeezing hard “We were together for four year before he proposed to me. We were married for five.” It actually felt good to talk to him. Just as good as it always felt with Lysandra “But toward the end he became weird too. Life of a police officer is quite hectic too, and we could go on for a whole week without seeing each other, that had happened. But all of a sudden I noticed his shift pattern had started to change to a point that he was never home when I was.” She inhaled Rowan’s scent to try and calm down “One day I was on my break after surgery and I decided to go and see him at his work. Once I got there he was outside Police HQ, with another woman. And they were making out. I walked to him and punched him hard in the face and told the bitch to keep her tongue out of my husband’s mouth.” “Remind me not to piss you off again. Ever.” Aelin chuckled “Three days later I went to his job. Reached his office area and dumped divorce paper on his desk and told him Try and solve this case, officer Westfall. That night he came back home from work and we had a brutal fight. During the afternoon I had asked my friends Lysandra and Aedion to help me move out the following day. Lysandra had a spare room and she took me in. The divorce was brutal.” She hold him as tight as she could “He kept blaming me. According to him it was my fault. I was the one who was too obsessed with her work to care about her husband. He had the guts to tell the lawyers that I induce him to cheating because I was not committed anymore to the marriage. He brought up that I had told him I did not want a family. Which was a lie by the way.” Rowan finally turned around and pulled Aelin to his chest “I did want kids. But we were not thirty yet at the time of this conversation and I told him I wanted to wait a bit. He agreed. But during the divorce he lied.” Aelin pulled away from Rowan and went back to the sofa and sat down, her head in her hands “And I am so damn glad we did not have kids. Imagine the mess.” He heard her sob “He made me pass for a monster. For the one that had given up on our marriage. He was the one fucking another woman for months. And when I told the lawyers that he was never at home and probably sleeping with another woman, he told them that he had been moved to the night shift.” She brushed away the tears with the back of her hand “I checked with is CO. Chaol was not on the night shift.” Rowan kneeled in front of her, with a finger lifted her face staring at her in her eyes, now puffy “I am glad you punched him. I hope you broke something.” Aelin chuckled “It has been almost a year, but I still have so much rage.” “That I can relate to. A least you could punch him. I could never do that to Lyria.” “I can do that for you.” Aelin offered with a grin. Rowan sat beside her and they stayed in silence for a moment. “I am so tired…” she leaned on the side and ended up against him. Rowan got up and came back after a few minutes with a blanket and a fluffy pillow. He got the sofa ready for her “Lie down and rest. The sofa is very comfortable.” She followed his suggestion and lay down. “I am going back to my aunt and see if she need more help.” “I should come to.” She sat back up but Rowan was on his knees near where her head was, he removed hair from her face “No. Stay here and sleep, please.” “Leave me you mobile number.” Rowan looked at her “I… I actually don’t have a mobile phone.” Aelin sat up abruptly “No way.” “I just don’t need it.” “How can I call you?” “Just phone my aunt, if you need me.” He kissed her head and stood “Come on. Stop being a spoiled brat and sleep.” Aelin plunged back on the sofa and buried herself under the cozy blanket transforming herself in a human burrito. “Be careful out there.” Rowan smiled at her tenderly and left.

[baby-grayson]

Sweet Enigma|Part 9

Tag List:  @wheezeatmedolans​ @styles-dolan​ @prettyboydolan​ @evergreendolan​ @baby-turtles​ @dolanstacoma​ @kombuchagray​ @not-gbd​ @graysavant​ @someonetogray​ @dolansficsandpics​ @batgirl009 @voguekristens @letsgoget-high​ @crossedbone-kat​ @thecoletomysprouse @graysonsbailey

tw: pregnancy and mental health discussions

//

Kate didn’t tell Grayson she was pregnant. At least, not that night. The emotional blows and exhaustive moments had knocked her around more than the tide had when she splashed into the ocean. She left the triage room and Dr.Ocasio as if she was leaving the trenches of a battle: moving, but feeling emptier on the inside (despite sharing her body with the fledgling traces of a new life). She was quiet as she slumped beside Grayson in the car ride back to his place. Tired and angry, he chattered on about paperwork and the nurse’s demeanor as a distraction from the searing hatred burning in his heart that was oxygenated by Sherry’s actions. Not yet ready to face that emotional storm, he settled on ranting about the hospital while Kate leaned her head against the windowsill and gently thumbed her hip, wearing a pensive look framed by dark eye bags and sullen skin.  

She followed Grayson into his bedroom when they got home. He waved his hands madly in the air while he continued to rant. She dropped onto his bed, surrendering to the events of the night and instantly wanting to fall asleep and retreat the craziness that had become her life. 

Grayson looked when she sighed audibly. He stopped ranting and laced his lips together, going dry at the mouth. “Hey,” he started softly as he went to sit next to her. He draped an arm around her shoulders and leaned over to place a gentle kiss on the side of her head, “I’m sorry...bunny” he mumbled the word with his lips pressed to her skin. 

She tried to feign a smile but instead only lifted her mouth and let it fall again, as if it was weighted down by the tons of stress and trauma she wore from the past few weeks. She leaned into Grayson, letting her hair fall over his shoulder as she nuzzled into his neck. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in, letting her fall into his form and feel the warmth emanating from his body. She closed her eyes against his skin, letting her body relax as she gently played with her fingers against him. 

In that moment, Grayson smelled the salt of the ocean on her hair. He would have liked to say that the scent reminded me of the stresses of the night: her sweet, citrus scent overpowered by the storm they had weathered together. In all honesty, he recoiled slightly at the smell of fish and sweat. He kissed the top of her head and mumbled into her hair, “Go take a shower, I’ll get your pajamas out of your bag.” 

Kate nodded softly before dragging herself up to a standing position and moving into his on-suite bathroom. She slid off Grayson’s jacket, folding it neatly and placing it on the bathroom counter. She let her dress drop to the floor, kicking it aside. She turned on Grayson’s shower and sat on the marble bench, letting the water fall on her from above. She leaned back and rested on the bench, trying her best not to think about anything. 

She laid naked and wet: her body housing two lives but feeling dead inside. 

Grayson unbuttoned his shirt while sulking out of his bedroom and into the living room, where Kate’s backpack was still slung over the couch from yesterday morning. He started to shimmy out of the shirt when he looked up and spotted Ethan at the kitchen island, sitting next to their assistant, Isla. Isla was a full-figured, curvy Latina who spoke in a pointed, but caring manner. Her namesake was forever imprinted as a tattoo sleeve on her right arm and by a signature blue streak of hair in the front of her face. 

“Hey,” Grayson’s tone was low while he approached his brother. 

“You’re welcome,” Ethan’s tone was flat and his eyes were too tired to fully commit to the joke. 

Grayson looked from Ethan to Isla and back to Ethan, “For what?” 

“For saving your--your” Ethan held a a hand in the direction of Grayson’s bedroom and waved it, trying to find a word to describe Gray and Kate’s relationship.  “-amor” Isla finished his sentence with a delicate smirk.

Ethan snapped his fingers in her direction and nodded, “Thank you.” 

Grayson rolled his eyes slightly, “How are you holding up?” He leaned over the counter next to Isla. 

“Damp” Ethan replied emphatically. 

Grayson let out a laugh that partially relieved him of the invisible weight on his shoulders. His laugh slowly quieted until the room was silent once more: Isla, Ethan, and Grayson sneaking awkward glances at each other. “I’m glad you’re okay,” Grayson said before sighing, “What are we even supposed to do about this?” He was speaking louder than he would have liked, ever the booming presence in a room. 

“Well you could--” “You should--” Ethan and Isla spoke over each other. 

“Sorry,” Isla whispered. 

“No you go,” Ethan started. 

Isla shook her head softly and fiddled with her phone in her hands. 

“We need to do something about Sherry,” Ethan started, “I’ll call the legal team in the morning.” 

Grayson nodded and locked his jaw, “Is that just another add on to what happened to Kate’s apartment?” 

Ethan gave a defeated shrug “Dunno- but have they even tied that back to her?” 

“Who else would it be?” Grayson didn’t hide his anger.

“You know Gray,” Ethan started, “There are a lot of people who don’t like her- Kate- right now.” He sighed and gave another surrendered shrug, “She didn’t exactly give the world the best impression.”

Grayson huffed, “I know” he stated. He wanted to add: and that’s my fault. He was torn up by the fact that so many people openly hated the woman who single handedly brought happiness back into his life. He was utterly confused, caught in a rabbit hole of doubt and anger: wondering if he would ever wake up from this nightmare and angry at himself for bringing only dark clouds to Kate, when she radiated in his eyes. 

By the time Grayson got to bed that night, Kate was already laying there. She was draped in one of his old sweatshirts and resting on top of the covers. Grayson tried his best to slide into the covers and pull her near him while staying silent. Little did he know, she was very much awake. In the dark, she didn’t even try to close her eyes.

The low grumble of Grayson’s snores did not lull her to sleep. On the contrary, they amplified the anxious voices inside of her: crying out about her life, her baby, her family, Grayson, Sherry, boats, nighttime, splashes, treading water, and washing away. She broke out in a cold sweat, the events of the night echoing in her head. 

If sleep washed a layer of relief on Grayson’s soul, waking up energized him to seek a vengeance for the day before. He looked at Kate, who’s eyelashes were fluttering against her cheekbones while her mouth sat in a frown. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and used a large arm to grapple her into his chest and start placing a series of soft kisses on her head. He didn’t check to see her frown fade, “G’morning beautiful”

“Morning Gray,” her voice sounded almost hoarse. 

“You sound sleepy,” he nuzzled his face against her soft dark hair. 

She shrugged, “I’m still tired.” She conveniently left out the part about not sleeping a week. 

“Stay in bed while I take a shower,” Grayson smiled against her hair before placing a final kiss on the crown of her head.

It was only once she heard the patter of Grayson’s shower again the marble bathroom floor that she finally closed her eyes and relinquished her body to it’s exhausted state.

She slept until the late afternoon, waking up to a dry mouth and a disoriented mind. Grayson was long gone, running between meetings and phone calls while trying to quell the chaos of the night before.

She lifted herself from bed and trudged into the bathroom where she smoothed out her hair in the mirror. She looked at her own face: wondering if that girl was ready to be a mother. Wondering if that girl could be a mother.

The fear of being recognized in public was not enough to stop her from ordering an Uber to the nearest drug store, where she promptly bought a box of pregnancy tests to verify what the emergency room doctor had told her.

She tiptoed into the house, the plastic of the shopping bag peaking out of her purse while she swiftly moved into Grayson’s bathroom. She was somewhat thankful that Grayson was working late and wrapped up in the chaos of their lives.She turned the lock on the bathroom door, not wanting to risk being caught.

Any good scientist knows the key to valid data is reproducibility: an experiment is no good if it can only be done once. The general rule of thumb, was to preform trials in triplicate to prove validity. Ever the doting, committed scientist, Kate took six pregnancy tests that night.

She stood, staring at the counter and her six positive tests staring up at her. They were daunting. Almost fearsome. Staring at her like a small army ready to attack.

She cupped her face in her hands, deciding that it was real: that it was true.

She heard Grayson enter his bedroom before he knocked on the bathroom door, “You in there?”

“Yeah! Just a minute” She did the smartest thing she could think of and quickly slid all six tests into her purse, not knowing how and when she would dispose of them. She looked in the mirror again, wondering if she looked difference: if housing a child had already started its barrage of physical changes on her body. Could Grayson tell?

She hoped not.

Grayson was emptying his pockets on his nightstand and sitting on the edge of the bed when she creeped out of the bathroom, “Hey,” he started, not even looking up at her as he tossed his wallet near his lamp. 

Even Kate’s anxious mind could see the physical signs of exhaustion on Grayson’s face: heavy lidded eyes, a low mouth, and distinct creases on his forehead. She sat next to him, “Hey,” she started quietly. 

Grayson sighed before he looked at the floor as he spoke, “Talked to Joe and Rob about what happened--” 

“Who are Joe and Rob?”

“Oh- uh manager and lawyer-”

“-right.” Kate gave a small nod. She bit the corner of her mouth and decided against asking anymore questions: lest she be faced with all of the details she didn’t know about Grayson’s life. Should she feel guilty for being pregnant by a man and not knowing the name of his manager? Internal, she shuddered and reflected on just how weird a place Hollywood was, to make her ask such a question. 

If Grayson could sense her inner struggle, he didn’t show it. Instead, he droned on for a few minutes about assault, battery, nautical laws, and the California jurisdiction. Kate gave small nods and folded her lips whenever he would look up to get her reaction. 

“It’s a lot,” Grayson leaned his upper body down against the bed. He wrapped his face in his hands and moved his fingers through his hair, “I feel like I just went to law school in a day- I- this is crazy.” 

“It is,” Kate’s voice was small and her posture erect as she sat on the edge of the bed, her hands folded neatly in her lap. 

She jumped at the feeling of two large arms folding around her and Grayson leaning his head against her shoulder, “I’m so sorry bunny,” his voice was low. “I-I-” he sighed again and squeezed her tiny frame, “I can’t imagine how you must be feeling.” He placed a gentle kiss on her temple. Kate’s posture didn’t falter. 

Grayson cleared his throat before saying the next part, slowly and deliberately, “After the break in-- the one that happened before we met-- I was really freaked out. Didn’t sleep for nearly a month. I felt like my even my own mind wasn’t safe anymore. The point is, I went to a therapist a few times. Talked a lot out and I think it really helped me. And this isn’t me sending you to someone else, I’m here for you, wholly, with everything you need. But if you need more” he reached out to hold her hand in his, “I’m by your side always.” 

Kate’s lips slipped into a smile for the first time all day, “Thank you Grayson.” 

He squeezed her hand once more, “We’ll get through this together mama.”

She stiffened in his arms, “What?!” 

“Sorry,” he let out a low chuckle. He rolled his eyes softly at an angle she couldn’t see, “bunny.” he corrected with a loving but mocking tone, “I should know better, I’ll get better I promise.”

Kate gave a small nod before falling back onto the bed. 

The second night mimicked the first, with Grayson snoring like a lion on the prowl and Kate rolling around, trying to find a space that felt comfortable enough to lull her to sleep but failing to find it within herself. How could someone sleep when their soul was too busy operating on decisions that would change their lifetime? 

She feigned sleep while Grayson slipped out in the morning. She closed her eyes while he bent down to kiss her cheek and whispered, “Sweet Dreams.” Before she head the sound of the door close behind him. 

She felt guiltier, that second morning. Once the door creaked shut, she instantly remembered the sullen and long face Grayson gave when he came home the night before. She felt guilty that he was out, fighting her battles and trying to protect her, in a mess of paperwork and legal times, his least favorite things in the world, while she got to stay home and contemplate their love child. 

She felt twisted about the fact that this thought made her happy. In a weird way, it proved Grayson’s committment to her, his dedication, and his faith to whatever they had. It calmed some of her nerves that he would be the future father of her child. 

Her musings were interrupted by a slurry of emails from her advisor: asking where she was, if she was okay, what was happening. They made her head spin. She felt that the fabric of her mind was being invaded by the complex task of balancing her personal future with the future of her own career and well being. Surely, she hadn’t wanted a child. But now that one was in her sights, and literally in her, maybe it was somehow fated to be this way. 

She shut her phone off entirely in an effort to delete the emails. 

She threw on one of Grayson’s wakeheart t-shirts and a pair of sweat pants and pattered out into the kitchen for a meal. The hardwood felt cold against her toes. She picked a banana out of the fruit bowl and opened a cabinet, in search of peanut butter when she heard a thumping noise coming from the other side of the house. 

She dropped her banana. It bounced against the floor. Her mouth went dry. She picked up a pan from the top of the stove and held it at an angle in front of her and she stalked forward. She slowly pushed open the door to Ethan’s room: unsettled by the fact that it was already ajar. She knitted her brow together, still hearing a beating sound coming from his bathroom. Against her better judgement, she opened the door a crack, motivated by the fear of an intruder, and peered through the space between the door and the door frame. 

She jumped back and immediately closed the door. From her crevice, she could see Ethan firmly, strongly, and expertly pounding the plump ass of a girl from inside of her shower, where a strand of blue hair bounced around as she picked her head up to say his name. 

Kate blushed and pressed her back against the wall of Ethan’s bedroom. Feeling embarrassed about the whole situation. She quietly tiptoed out of his room and brought the pan back to the kitchen while reflecting on the ordeal. She was paranoid, afraid of monsters in the closet and scenarios she was building in her head: not real fears, fears that her mind was making up to keep her from enjoying the life that was being laid out in front of her. 

She turned on Grayson’s own shower and quickly rinsed off, hoping the water and his Wakeheart bodywash would help wash away the negativity from her psyche and the embarrassment from the last 20 minutes. 

She wrapped herself in Grayson’s large, cotton bathrobe and sat cross legged on his bed. She pulled her laptop from her backpack and began writing to her advisor, requesting a meeting to explain the timeline for the rest of her doctoral program. She took a breath before pressing send. 

Grayson came home that night looking like more of a wreck than the night before. He slumped himself on the bed and rested his head on her lap while Kate gently brushed his hair away from his face. “Long day?” 

“Yeah,” Grayson mumbled and nuzzled his face into her midsection. 

She sucked in her top lip and sat up straighter, “Want to talk about it?” 

He shook his head, “No,” he sighed and opened his eyes to look at her, “It’ll all change tomorrow anyway.” 

Kate didn’t want to ask what that meant.  

He held her hand from where he leaned on her, “What about you? What did you do today?” 

She swallowed hard, touching her tongue to the outside of her lips and exhaling before speaking. “Actually Grayson--” she took a deep breath mid-sentence, “There is something I wanted to tell you.” 

He raised his eyebrows curiously while she wished she wondered how fast she could run across the room and pull out the half a dozen pregnancy tests from the night before. She looked him in the eye, ever the direct speaker, “I’m pregnant.”

When Grayson’s mouth gaped slightly she added, “It’s yours.” 

Grayson shot up, lifting his head from her lap and sitting up straight, “You’re pregnant?” At first, his voice held nothing but pure shock but it faded quickly into something happy. 

Kate nodded surely, not letting a smile hit her lips. This was a factual conversation. 

Grayson had started to flash a grin but quickly lost it when he looked her in the eye to ask, “Do you want to keep it?” 

She maintained composure, “I do.” 

Grayson’s entire face lit up. In a swift move, he jumped from the bed and began pacing around the room in front of Kate, waving his arms joyously in the air and starting sentences without endings about family, his mother, Kate, this year, the baby, him being a father. Kate could barely keep up with him, so she giggled and smiled at him: appreciating every ounce of whimsical, loving energy that was Grayson Dolan. 

He made a sharp turn on his heel, stopping his arms from waving, “Do you want to--” he licked his lips as his face quickly transformed from happiness to anxiety, “Do you want me to-to-to marrryyeee you?” Kate didn’t know what word got so many extra letters.

She shook her head, “I uh- I didn’t think about that but I don’t think it’s” she moved her eyes from side to side, “necessary?” 

Grayson nodded, “Right.” He bit his bottom lip and looked at her with large, kind brown eyes. He stared straight into her big brown eyes and saw the same gold flecks he noticed that day on the beach. She was his girl, his soul knew it. “I could still, ask you to marry me?” If she was the say yes, he would have dropped to his knee in that moment and started an impromptu speech about everything she meant to him. If she were to say yes, he would have changed everything in his life to make her as comfortable as possible. She was everything he wanted in his life, and now she was caring for a child that was nothing but the proof that they were destined to be together. 

But at the offer of a proposal, Kate shot up from the bed and took Grayson’s hands into hers. She took a deep breath, “No Grayson. I don’t want that.” She wanted to say that they weren’t even actually dating, but that would break Grayson’s heart at the moment it was most full: so she didn’t. Instead she opted for pulling body close to his, so he could get drunk on her sweet citrus scent and saying, “I don’t need a boyfriend, or a fiance, or a husband.” His eyes held onto something sad before she added, “What I need, is a partner,” she squeezed his hands, “I need you to be my partner Grayson.”

He squeezed her hands before giving her a slow, gentle kiss and letting his lips rest on hers warmly before pulling back, “You’ve got me bunny.” He placed another kiss on her forehead. 

[its-my-little-dumpster-fire]

Let it Burn ( t w e n t y t h r e e )

Billy Russo x Reader, 4.5k

A/N: Ok guys. This is it. Season 2 finale. Basement chaos. Where we take canon and throw it out the window, screaming. Enjoy. I use a lot of italics and bold words. Toward the end, to differentiate between speakers. I’d explain more, but there’s a lot going on and it’s supposed to be a little overwhelming. 

Warnings: Good Lord, there is so much blood. Swears. Frank Castle. 

Summary: Billy Russo doesn’t belong in a dumpster. That’s the summary. This one’s for you @the-blind-assassin-12​.

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How the hell did you end up here, you asked yourself. The harsh light of the yellow bug lamp dangling overhead only highlighted the dark spots of the alley before you. A stout man with messy brown hair, hunched over at a disturbing angle and straining under the weight of something that made your heart stop again.

--

It started with a phone call, one that for the first time in nearly two years, you ignored. Billy was on his way out of town, there was no reason for him to call you and even less reason for you to answer. That damn mark though, even as Billy was making his way out of your life, the mark would still be there and the itch underneath was growing more unbearable by the minute. It couldn’t hurt to check in. No. You steeled yourself for the fourth time that hour and went back to sorting through your closet as Job nosed through the pile of clothes destined for the women’s shelter. It was surreal, sitting cross legged on your bedroom floor surrounded by cardboard boxes and half filled trash bags as you whittled away at the life you’d built around yourself that last year. Slowly, but surely narrowing it down so that what was left behind you wasn’t too much of a mess. The dog shifted, crawling over the floor to nudge your arm and wedge his blocky head under your elbow, desperately in need of affection. You glanced lovingly down at his face and paused. The deep black eyes you loved were peering up at you, but you were stuck looking at your soulmark, suddenly not as dark as you remembered. You asked Job if it looked different to him, which he failed to answer, then made your way into the bathroom for a better look. Your skin felt hot to the touch after rubbing at the mark incessantly for five minutes, looking at it under bright white light and finding it fading, even more than when you’d stepped into the light. But then another call came and you thought that maybe…

“Billy?” No. You weren’t thinking at all as you answered the phone. “Billy? Is that you?”

“Krista…”

“No… no Billy, it’s me.”

“Krista’s dead,” he choked and away from the speaker, you could hear him gagging before something wet hit the ground. “Krista’s dead and Madani killed her.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, nor could you stop your feet from moving when Billy told you he’d been shot. Job whined when you hustled out of the bathroom, nearly tripping over him in the process, but he stay out of the way as you shoved your feet into shoes and grabbed a jacket from the top of the donation pile, the project and your thinly veiled attempts to move on abandoned as you scrambled out the door.

--

“Hey, asshole!” You called out, charging the slow moving mass in front of you. The man in big round glasses turned with a panicked look in his eye, but his face dropped from yours to the heavy bag in your hand. You’d found it just inside, some disgusting underground operating room that smelled like old booze and bleach, barely masking the smell of shit. If Billy’s passport hadn’t caught your eye, you’d have abandoned it completely, but there nestled among the repeating faces of Benjamin Franklin was the face of your soulmate. In a matching blue booklet was a face you didn’t recognize. Claire Russell was the name, but you were almost certain the face belonged to the woman Billy had planned his escape with. Krista. A loud noise followed by a heavy groan, drew your eyes up again to a thick trail of blood leading away from the makeshift triage set up and toward the alley. You grabbed the gun from the floor next to the operating table and inspected it. Billy showed you what to do, but that had been in his apartment, surrounded by familiar sights and smells, not in a building that smelled like death. It was heavy in your hands, heavier than you remembered, but the fact you may actually have to use it added a weight that you couldn’t be prepared for. You brushed your thumb over the barrel, then back up until you found the safety along the left side. Another loud noise and you gripped the handle, ignoring the red stains already on your hand just from picking it up and followed the streaks of blood out the door.

“That’s my money!” Some heavy accent hollered back at you. You didn’t bother answering, just lifted the gun in your right hand and tilted your head in a challenge. “Fuck this,” he all but squealed, dropping his shoulder and letting his heavy load fall against the side of a nearby dumpster in a wet heap before scurrying away like the rat he was. A white coat doesn’t make you a doctor and for a moment, you wondered if you should stop him. The blood on his coat belonged to Billy, but it wasn’t the only red you saw. Billy was coming here to get help and if the shiny red bullets in a silver bowl were any indication, the doctor had at least finished the job before deciding to dump Billy somewhere he wouldn’t be found. A dumpster. Murderer, gangster, bastard or not… no man, no human belonged in a pile of trash. You fired without aiming and the doctor screamed before jolting forward and slamming the door shut behind him. If you hit him, you hit him, but you were fine with a warning shot too. At least until someone phoned in the sound of a gunshot off Norman Ave. Dammit.

“Billy, Billy,” you chanted, grabbing at his face and propping him up to a sitting position. “Billy, you gotta wake up, I can’t carry you out of here… BILLY!” The relief you felt at his eyes flickering open was unlike anything you’d ever felt. “We have to leave, now, my car is just there-”

“Curtis…” he mumbled through his own spit. Billy’s head wobbled atop his neck before landing with a loud, echoing thud against the dumpster behind him. “Milton.”

“Who the fuck is Milton?” Moment of bravery over, you could feel yourself falling into hysterics, but Billy’s hand crossed over yours to grab your upper arm, slid over your neck and hair, until his blood stained fingers were on your tear soaked cheek.

“St. John’s,” he said, clearer than before. “On Milton.”

“Church? You want to go to church? No, Billy, we’re going to a hospital-” his fingers dug into your skin and you knew you’d never convince him of it. Curtis was closer. That’s all you could make out before Billy was throwing an arm around your shoulders and trying to lift himself off the ground. You prayed for that crazy strength you saw on the internet. Mother’s lifting SUVs off their infants and all that, but it didn’t come. You felt every pound of Billy Russo resting on your shoulders, leaning into you as you both shuffled away from the trash smell.

The thought of your morning at Rockaway Beach was the furthest from your mind. All the strong independent woman affirmations you’d been repeating to yourself in the mirror were gone. You were all those things, still. You’d been strong for everyone, you’d been strong for yourself when no one else was. Through your parents, your brother, your tumor. But looking down at Billy Russo, his insides leaking out of him at a disturbing pace and coloring your jeans and the wood floor beneath you, you needed him. You needed him to live. And you told him this over and over while he lurched in your lap, coughing up more blood than you’d ever expected to see outside of a person. His head was against your chest as he called Curtis, asking for a brother in a time of need, and you waited on the floor of a church basement for some kind of salvation to come walking through the door.

“Don’t move.”

“Where’d’ya think ‘m goin,” Billy gurgled, trying to sound humorous, but it only hurt more to see him wincing through every word.

You couldn’t bear to hear it again, so you slid out from behind him and gingerly leaned him back against the wall where you’d been. After tightening your jacket around his middle, you slipped out of the empty room in search of water, hoping that Curtis was just around the corner. You’d just located a water cooler at the end of the hallway, when a heavy door swung open and heavy clomping echoed behind you. The paper cup slipped from your hands and the puddle was forgotten as you took off after Curtis, hearing Billy’s weak attempts to call out to him from just outside the room.

“Frankie…”

But it wasn’t Curtis.

“Of course it’s you,” the words tumbled out in a deluge. There were many mixed feelings tumbling around in your gut, knowing that THE Frank Castle was standing before you. Relief. Terror. Confusion. Awe. It all became clearer when his arm lifted, a handgun pointed directly at Billy.

“NO!” You shrieked, diving forward in desperation. Frank turned quickly at the disturbance and you hit the ground harder than you expected. You hadn’t spent much time flinging yourself into hard surfaces, but the impact took hold in your chest, and when you tried to speak, nothing came, not even breath. On elbows and knees, you pulled yourself the remaining foot or so until you were at Billy’s side.

Frank’s face was stuck in a deep frown, brows drawn in so hard that his eyes almost disappeared beneath them. You had no way of knowing if it was the surprise of another person in the basement or the fact that you were coming to Billy’s defense. His eyes fell to your side, where your arm was exposed without the cover of your jacket, still tied over Billy’s gut and catching whatever tried to pour out of him.

It was obvious that Frank hadn’t come for a conversation, but once you started talking, you couldn’t stop. He barely engaged.

“You should go.”

“No.”

“You don’t wanna see this, kid, go.”

“I’m not leaving him. I can’t.”

When he did speak, it was low and threatening. Every word fell hard like a hammer in your brain. You felt like you were getting no where and every precious second wasted was one that Frank stole from Billy as he lay dying, face hidden against your shoulder because you couldn’t stop pulling him closer, even when he groaned in pain.

“Are you going to shoot him, Frank?”

“Yes.”

“You’re going to kill him in front of me? You want me to hurt like you hurt, is that it? You want me to see this moment again every time I close my eyes?”

“No.”

“Then don’t do this, Frank!”

What is reason? What good reason is there not to kill a man? You were treading water with your words, painfully wishing that you could say the right thing, convince this man that Billy deserved to live. Though with every strained sobbing breath against your neck, you thought he wouldn’t live at all. At the very least, he didn’t deserve to die like this. In a basement he once paid to rent, with his best friend who was trying to kill him and his soulmate pleading for his life. No one should have to sit through that scene.

“Killing him doesn’t bring your family back.”

“Stop talking.”

“It just ruins me, wrecks me the way it wrecked you.”

“Stop-“

“THEN KILL ME FIRST.”

Frank was quiet, seething, but his gun dropped to his side. Finger still precariously perched on the trigger, but the barrel was no longer fixed on you.

“Don’t make me live with this, Frank. I can’t. I can’t do it. If you want him dead, you have to kill me first. Please… Frank!”

Frank took a step closer. Blood squelched beneath his boot and you hid your face against Billy’s sweaty head, buzzed hair like damp velvet against your eyes, growing wetter beneath your tears. There wasn’t anything else to do and you shook in your own helplessness as Billy’s hand scrambled against your blood stained shirt, gripping it in his fist as he coughed. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Meeting your soulmate wasn’t supposed to end like this.  

“You don’t deserve to live....” Frank said in a cold growl that ripped through the room. It was easy to imagine him barking in the trenches, letting his roar terrify his fellow patriots as if courage could be transferred through his voice alone. Imagining him as a father, sitting on the bleachers at baseball games using the same voice to encourage instead of threaten, it seemed impossible despite the stories Billy shared the night he was presumed dead. The first time. You knew next to nothing about Frank Castle. You knew about the “Punisher”, what news outlets would have you believe about the former Marine turned vigilante, but where was the justice now? You found none in the situation unfolding before you as Frank Castle’s gun was fixed on Billy...your Billy, for all the shit he’d done, you knew that under the fear, the scars, and the blood, there was pale skin pulled taut over the muscles he fought tooth and nail to rebuild after being bedridden and comatose, there was a mark that swirled out below the crook of his elbow and like it or not, you needed him. The mark of perfection on a man that had slipped into the pits, taking so many with him, yourself included. Billy coughed and more blood spilt over his chin,         coating his throat and beard in a thick crimson reminder that it wouldn’t be long now.

Frank’s eyes fell on you next and if you could be anymore frozen in the moment, you would have snapped into attention under his pitiless gaze. For a moment, you felt that maybe his threat was meant for you too. That loving a monster meant you were wasted oxygen, already mourning a man who was wasting in the dim light of a church basement. This is hell, you thought. You’d surely succumbed to the venom and this must be hell. Not the fire you anticipated, but blood, so much blood, pooling on a laminate floor, redemption hovering just above you both and painfully out of reach. Somewhere over your heads, Curtis, a medic and a damn good one, sat waiting for the news of Billy’s death, hoping for it, in the eyeline of a crucifix, where someone else he claimed to love hung and bled, understanding Billy Russo’s current condition better than anyone else in the building could. In another life, you’d pray, but it seemed the men who could save Billy were upstairs pretending not to see what you saw. His life was in Frank’s hands now and a cold hopelessness pumped through your veins as you realized the saver of lives and the saver of souls had both turned their faces away from you and the man you loved.

“You don’t deserve her,” Frank added, as if it would wound Billy more. You almost laughed, but a sharp intake of breath from somewhere below you broke your focus.

“I know,” Billy said, blood and regret bubbled in his throat until his voice was a disgusting gurgle, nothing more.

Five or six moments from your life crossed your mind then. Moments that should have broken you. Moments that perhaps if your life had been a novel instead of a life, the cruel author would have described you as broken. Moments of tragedy and trauma and fear and sadness beyond what mortals should have to shoulder. That would be inaccurate though, as now you knew true brokenness. You’d always remained humble, understanding that in all your hurt, there was another fighting a much more gruesome battle and you owed it to yourself and to them to keep on living. This day wasn’t like that. You wouldn’t survive this day. You’d given Frank a choice, pled for your life and Billy’s. You begged for him to kill you too, if he couldn’t spare Billy’s life, the very least he could do was spare you the moment of losing him and a lifetime without him. In the waiting, you knew that Frank already had. Each moment precious when a life hung so precariously. Only time would tell whether or not you died staring down the barrel of a gun that wasn’t meant for you or at the image of Billy being torn away from this world and the life you two were never destined to have.

A click -the safety- and you closed your eyes preparing for the end, a fresh sob closing your airways one final time before your lungs ceased to grant you breath… but the pain didn’t come, neither did the relief you anticipated in death.

—

Curtis worked his ass off while the anxiety rolled off you in a heat wave. You’d never been to the dessert or in the middle of a bustling marine base where the difference between life and death rested in the hands of a man trained for both, but your insides were a different kind of warzone. Willing your hands to follow Curtis’ wherever he directed -

“Here, pressure here, don’t let up.”

-you couldn’t help but notice Frank’s proximity to the table. Now off the phone, convincing someone on the other end that he needed blood, but wasn’t willing to offer any more of an explanation, he was helping too. Though his face was blurry and distant compared to the barrel of a stolen 9mm held at your nose just an hour before, you knew it would visit you in your dreams.

“Tie this, tight as you can get it.”

Just another thing to connect you to the man before you, prone, open, cold, but his blood was hot as it pulsed beneath your fingers, trying to burst from his body where it was desperately needed. The floor didn’t need anymore. His already saturated clothing didn’t need anymore. His shirt was cut through by Curtis, needing access to the burbling holes in his gut, but his jacket was in a wet pile at your feet, smelling like everything you hated, congealed into the common odor of death. It was overwhelming.

“Take this-”

And you did.

“Start cleaning. Any of this gets infected and it won’t matter what I’m doing.”

Curtis’ tone was even, direct, clearly a man who’d given orders in more dire situations, but responding to the words seemed impossible. The rag in your left hand was already pink where your bloodied fingers gripped it, Curtis’ larger prints were visible too. The bottle of Everclear in your right felt too heavy.

“Hey!”

You looked up, but not to the brown eyes trying to get your attention.

“Now, you need to start now.”

It was Billy’s eyes you found. They were closed, finally. The screaming was too much. He fought off the darkness for longer than you would have and the moment he passed out, you almost picked up where he left off.

“Do you hear me?”

Shock had your vocal chords gripped too tight and while you wanted to wake him, keep him talking, hell you’d take the screams over this silence, you hoped that his unconscious mind was numbing him to the pain. If a man like Billy Russo could ever be offered a respite from the hell, you hoped it’d be now.

“Ok, kid…”

A hand stretched out across the back of your neck, heavy, but pulling you away.

“I got him now. I got it.”

The rag and bottle disappeared and your hands felt foreign without something to hold or something to do. Without the weight of another hopefully live saving task passed down from the marine medic across the table, your hands started to shake. And shake. And shake. Until your arms and shoulders and spine shook too.

“Don’t you pass out on us too, we don’t have time for that.”

Encouragement growled is less than encouraging. Tears gathered around eyelids and corners, leaving you with fuzzy, tunnel vision. Billy. All you could see was Billy.

“We got him, take a walk-”

“No,” you say so fast it stings the roof of your mouth. You can’t even remember the last time you spoke out loud. It’s barely been an hour, but the last time you spoke seemed like a lifetime ago. Pleading for mercy from the man telling you to step away. Placing yourself between him and Billy with the kind of courage that is only granted to people so sure of their own mortality they’d step in front of a gun, just to get the last word in. It was hard not to blame Frank, even when the bullets that ripped through Billy weren’t his. It always came back to Frank Castle. “I’m not leaving.”

“Look-” he sounded impatient. So were you. Up until an hour ago, both these men were dead set on killing Billy. Finishing what Frank started so long ago.

“No, you look,” you spat back, tears flinging from your cheeks with the sharp turn of your head. “I’m not leaving him, not with you two,” the only title befitting these so-called brothers turned enemies was sharp against the back of your teeth. Frank’s eyes closed and before his breath could turn into another encouragement to get you out of the room, you jumped in again. “How can you ask me to leave him? You came here tonight to murder him, I know you did.” His eyes opened and narrowed again slightly. Frank wasn’t used to his actions being labelled so accurately, you knew that too. ‘Clearing the streets,’ ‘doing what the unis couldn’t,’ ‘operating outside the law.’ There are many different ways to paint a killer as something else. You knew better, having stood toe to toe with Frank Castle. You were a woman, an innocent. It was the only reason you were still breathing, though even that surprised you after you kept him from finally stealing Billy Russo’s last breath. No one would blame him for wanting that. “I know he killed your family, Frank,” you started again, quiet and barely audible above the sloshing of Curtis’ fingers twisting inside your soulmate. “But it’s Billy. Billy is all I-”

“He didn’t kill my family.”

Curtis’ hands stop moving the same time your heart misses a beat or two.

“Frank-” he tried.

“He knew about it,” Frank clarified in his usual growl. “The bastard knew that Maria and the kids were going to die.”

“Billy didn’t kill them.” That’s all you heard. Billy didn’t kill the Castles. “Then why-”

Frank grunted and returned to the task at hand, cleaning the blood from Billy’s abdomen while Curtis, snapped from his reverie by Frank’s action, pulled soaked red hand towels from around the gaping hole he intended to close up.

“He knew it was comin’,” Frank repeated himself. “Russo doesn’t get a pass on all the other shit he brought down around him ‘cause he didn’t pull the trigger,” Frank slowed down, dropped one rag to the floor with a splat and held his hand out for another. Billy didn’t kill them. When you didn’t respond, Frank shook his hand and you scrambled to find something else to hand him. Once he was back to cleaning, Billy’s upper body looked considerably more pale than before when it was covered in pink and red stains. Too much blood. Even now, he might not make it out. Not even Frank’s sliver of redemption could keep Billy from the fate he’d been hurtling toward since Irag, since the group home, since the fire station. Was he always fated to this bloody end? To fight and fight back until his body was in as many pieces as his heart, his mind.

“How can you be sure?” Curtis questioned and your angry eyes fell on him. Wrist deep in Billy’s gut and still looking for a reason not to put him back together. Damn you, marine. “Frank?”

Frank’s hands kept moving, but you could feel the internal pause as he looked at Billy’s face for the first time since entering the basement. So well trained. “He told me.”

“Billy Russo lies, Frank… that’s his thing and he’s good at it.” Looking at Curtis was no longer an option. He was saving Billy’s life, as far as you could tell, while conversing so nonchalantly about whether or not he was worthy of it. Maybe it was a medic thing. When you’re in combat, you patch whoever is on your table without knowing where they’ve been, what they've done. Curtis spoke like he knew Billy, but Frank’s simple statement was providing a new narrative. Cleaning up the old one that had been muddied with betrayal and deceit and the stench of a certain vindictive homeland agent that you were glad hadn’t made a surprise appearance that night.

“Bill wouldn’t lie to a dead man, no need,” Frank offered without pause or emotion. “That’s what I was when he told me. Good as dead, but I needed to know. I needed to know what he knew.” He didn’t say much more after that, didn’t offer any more justification and you could see that it pained him to admit even that.

“He didn’t-”

“No,” Frank cut you quickly. “He’s a bastard. Don’t forget that.” But he didn’t kill your kids. You’d already loved him when you believed he had. It felt selfish to love him more now in the presence of Frank's pain, but damn it if that mark didn’t let you lie to yourself. You felt warmer, unbearably so and the room grew brighter as if the humming overhead lights were about to explode. Billy Russo was a bastard, but less than you thought. Your heart raced. Stay alive, Billy. Breathing hurt. I need you. I need you to stay alive.

“Frank,” Curtis’s voice was cut off by his own swearing, muttering as his hands flew across Billy’s body. “I need some help here.” You looked across the table to find Billy seizing up, as if trying to sit on his own, while Curtis grabbed at tools like MacGuyver, gesturing with dark, bloodied fingers for Frank to follow along.

“I don’t… uh…” you felt yourself slipping out of the room without moving.

“Frank!” a new voice called out from behind you, a woman.

“We got the blood, but it’s better if you don’t know how,” another voice, another woman, young. “Gross…”

“Goddammit,” you heard Frank grunt before the room was overtaken by those bright lights. White and gold and orange bled into every corner of your vision and a metallic crash rung out, echoing in your skull just as you reached out for support. The floor felt like foam and the harder you tried to right yourself, the quicker it all fell away into black.

More than a year in the making. Y’all are seriously the best. Can’t believe some of you are still reading. 

General Tags:

@something-tofightfor  @the-blind-assassin-12 @gollyderek @suchatinyinfinity @fific7 @beautifuldesastre @elanor-of-imladris @actuallyazriel @malionnes @pheedraws @commanderlola​ @mariaenchanted

Let it Burn/Billy Russo:

@songtoyou @disengagefrmreality @christinawxxx @stories-you-wont-hear @lexxierave @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead@thesumofmychoices @ofheroesandvillains @charmed-asylum @bugboy-and-icegirl @thefinalexperiment @lysawayne @operation-spot @ilkaeliseb @littlemermaidprobz @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @mathle0matle

[babybubastis]

Inspired by the prompt “Welcome to fatherhood” sent to me by @prettylittlebirds82. I hope you don’t hate it lol. And I’m sorry it took me so long 🙈

Just some angsty, domestic WinterPrincess.

Warnings: pregnancy, pregnancy complications, hospitals

———————————————————————

He moves as the mattress shifts, rolls over in his sleep to place his hand in the warm indentation left by her body.

Footsteps, rustling, whispering flutter on the edge of his consciousness. He burrows into the covers, groaning when his hand still searches, comes up empty, searches again.

“James.”

The whisper of his name is what does it. Whatever is in her voice sets off an alarm and he’s out of the bed and at her feet, blinking his eyes against the bathroom light.

“What’s wrong, sugar?”

Shuri looks up from her perch on the toilet, hands clutching her round belly, then drops her gaze again.

“I can’t stop,” she rasps. It’s then that he notices the steady trickling sound.

Bucky frowns, tilts her chin up so he can look her in the eyes. “You can’t stop what, angel?”

A sniffle. “I had an accident in bed, so I got up to use the bathroom, but I can’t stop peeing.” She shakes her head, whispers under her breath to herself, “It can’t be, it’s too early, it’s not time.”

The crease in his brow deepens, and his stomach drops even before his brain fully registers what she’s saying.

For maybe five seconds, he doesn’t breathe. His chest feels heavy, his right hand shakes, his vision tunnels.

Then she grabs his arm to try to stand, and a switch flips.

Bucky lifts his wife into his arms and strides over to the counter top. He sets her down like glass, eyes and hands frantically roving over her slightly trembling form.

“Are you having any contractions?”

He’s read enough to know that rupture of membranes doesn’t always mean labor is coming immediately. But it’s a damn good indicator, and he has to fight down the panic flooding his veins.

Panic isn’t something Bucky’s accustomed to, despite his whole life basically being one long shitstorm. From being taking captive as a prisoner of war over eighty years ago, to literally being snapped out of and back into existence, he’s had enough stress for three lifetimes. And somehow none of that has prepared him for the slow but powerful dread gripping his gut as his fingertips slide through the small puddle gathering on the cold marble underneath his very-pregnant-but-not-quite-pregnant-enough wife.

A large tear spills over and down Shuri’s cheek, but she shakes her head. “No, I feel fine, otherwise. This doesn’t make any sense...”

Bucky lifts his hands to cup her face, fingers gently wiping away the moisture before placing his right hand on her belly.

“You’re both gonna be okay, you understand me?”

His Queen nods once, bottom lip trembling before she presses both lips together and closes her eyes. She sucks in a breath and blows it out. When her eyes open, they still shimmer. But there’s resolve there, a determination and strength that makes him straighten up. He presses his lips to her forehead and lingers there, breathing her in before pulling away.

The next few minutes are a blur as he rushes around their suite grabbing clothes, shoes, phones, keys, wallets.

She’s still sitting on the counter when he comes back. Her eyes are closed again, head bowed, lips moving silently as both hands rub her belly. Bucky falters as he notices the towel now tucked between her legs. And there’s the panic again. He swallows it down and walks over to Shuri.

When he places his hands over hers, she sighs.

“Let’s get you dressed, baby, then we’ll head to the hospital.”

Her eyes flutter open and she nods. They’re silent as he helps her dress, a cloud of anxiety gathering around them.

“Wait, Bucky.”

“Hm?”

“How are we getting there?”

Shit.

He’s so out of sorts- exhausted, terrified, and trying to shove it all down enough to think straight, but he forgot to actually secure them a ride. Today was only the second day of their “baby moon”. Shuri had wanted to see New York City at Christmas time, just the two - make that three - of them.

Her water breaking at the end of her second trimester wasn’t part of the plan.

Bucky finishes helping Shuri tie her shoes before he runs into the bedroom again to grab his phone.

An ambulance is their best bet, but it’s 8:07 on a Friday morning in Downtown Manhattan. And according to his phone, it’s snowing. Heavily.

Shit.

“What about Tony?”

He whips around to find Shuri slowly climbing down from the bathroom counter. Rushing over to help her, his heart swells in spite of everything at the adorable grunt she lets out as her feet meet the floor.

“Now what about Tony, doll?”

Shuri huffs. “I thought I told you he and Pepper bought a second place in the city? They had their youngest last year at one of the hospitals here, but I forget which one.”

Bucky’s brow furrows. He doesn’t remember any of that.

His wife rolls her eyes and steps past him, waddling over to the desk near the door to grab her phone. “He invited us over for Christmas when I was on the phone with him last night, so they should be nearby. Maybe he can help.”

Before he can say another word, Shuri is on the phone, nervously chewing her bottom lip as her hand cradles their baby.

“Tony-“

Bucky can hear Stark’s voice on the other end then, way too loud for as early as it is, and he busies himself with double checking the small bag he’s packed to avoid becoming agitated.

He really doesn’t have anything against the other man. Despite their history, Bucky can’t blame Tony for what transpired between them all those years ago. And after Tony nearly died to defeat Thanos, Bucky only has respect for the man.

Tony had flatlined on that battlefield.

It was Shuri who sprang into action, refused to take no for an answer. She shouted orders at Doctor Strange to open a portal to her lab, and within minutes, she had Stark on a table while she ran diagnostics and went to work.

She was behind closed doors for hours, allowing only Pepper and Bruce back, along with Strange.

Bucky has no idea what exactly happened. He had waited outside of her lab until his eyes drooped, and the sound of the doors sliding open jolted him awake. Shuri emerged, hands bloody and shaking, but her expression gave nothing away. When it was all said and done, Tony Stark ultimately had her to thank for giving him his life back.

The friendship that bloomed between them after that made Bucky uneasy for... a while. Even after Bucky managed to work up the courage to confess his feelings to Shuri, and she confessed that she loved him back, he couldn’t shake the streak of possessiveness that flared unreasonably whenever Tony was around.

But he never begrudged his love her friendship, even when she decided to build a second Wakandan Outreach Center in New York, and Tony - who was making every effort in using his resources to help rebuild the world he’d saved - eagerly offered to be of assistance to Shuri in any way he could, in exchange for some “playtime,” as Stark called it, in her lab.

And Tony wasn’t the only one who had become a bit enamored with the then-Princess; the entire Stark household loved her, too. And yet, the retired Iron Man and the former Winter Soldier had barely ever exchanged more than two words and a few terse nods over the last few years.

Shuri calls to him, effectively bringing him back to the present, and Bucky realizes he’s nearly worn a tread into the carpet with his nervous pacing.

“Tony is on his way.” There’s a tinge of relief in her voice, but her left hand hasn’t left her belly, and she taps her phone against her thigh in an uneven rhythm.

Bucky walks over to his wife and grabs her hand. He brings it to his lips and inhales deeply.

“You ready?” It’s an effort to keep his voice steady.

She nods once, attempts a small smile that barely reaches her eyes at all.

Then Bucky interlaces their fingers and leads her toward the door and out of their suite. He slings their duffel bag across his shoulders and scoops her up into his arms, barely breaking stride on the way to the elevator. Shuri gives a surprised little yelp that, under different circumstances, might make him chuckle.

Instead, he holds her a little tighter and fights the urge to tap his foot while they wait for the car to reach their floor. It feels like an eternity waiting in that hallway, Shuri’s shallow breath against his neck, their baby cradled between them. He can hear Shuri’s heartbeat, wishes he could hear their little Bean’s heartbeat, too.

When he steps inside the elevator and reaches toward the button for the lobby, Shuri grabs his hand. He arches a brow in question.

**

To Tony’s credit, they don’t wait long at all. It can’t be more than ten minutes since Shuri hung up the phone when Bucky hears their ride approaching.

Any other time, he might roll his eyes and accuse Tony of having a flair for the dramatic. But he’s never been happier to see a Stark Industries helicopter in his life.

The chopper barely lands before Tony hops out, waving them forward. Once inside, they get buckled and take off in record time.

“How you feelin’, kid?”

Shuri looks up and gives a small smile. “I’ll be better when I know Bean is alright.” Bucky runs his thumb across the back of her right hand, and Tony reaches across from his seat to briefly squeeze her left.

“Don’t you worry about a thing, alright? Pepper’s OB owes me a gigantic favor, I already called ahead of you at the hospital. All we need to do is get you to OB Triage, and her colleagues will take it from there.”

Bucky exhales slowly and clears his throat. “I don’t know how to thank-“

Tony waves him off before he can finish his thought. “It’s the least I can do.”

Bucky nods. Shuri sags against him, and he turns his head to place a kiss to her temple.

“But if you want to repay me,” Tony interjects after a moment, “Anthony could be a great middle name.”

Shuri snorts. “You’re insufferable, you know that?” But there’s humor in her voice, and a genuine smile on her face this time, and Bucky is grateful to Tony for the second time that day.

**

By some miracle, triage isn’t busy at all. The on-call doc and a nurse greet them and take Shuri back while Bucky deals with the paperwork and Tony goes in search of caffeine.

It takes everything in Bucky not to chuck the clipboard back across the reception desk and follow after his wife. By the time he’s done filling everything out, every nail on his right hand is bitten down to nothing and his stomach is full of lead. He hands everything over and leans both hands on the desk, fighting the urge to crush the cheap fiberboard.

“So if you could tell me where they took my wife...?”

The middle aged woman behind the desk gives him a sympathetic smile. “Gimme just a sec, hun, I have to make sure they’re ready for ya.”

Before he can object, she stands and disappears through the door behind her desk. Bucky pinches the bridge of his nose and counts down from ten in Xhosa. He has to start over twice before the receptionist comes back.

“Mr. Barnes? They just took your wife down the hall for an ultrasound. She should be back in the room shortly, and then we’ll have someone take you back. Just sit tight, okay?”

But Bucky’s already been away from Shuri and Bean for ten minutes, and ready to crawl out of his own skin for every second. He tries for a smile - something charming yet authoritative, but hopefully not menacing - and sets his fists on the desk, leaning forward.

“Look-“ he starts, but a hand taps him on the elbow before he can finish his thought.

“Hey, let’s take a breather, huh?” Tony nods toward the double doors to the unit.

Tony must see the hesitation in Bucky’s eyes, because he gently nudges him.

“Just a few minutes. You look like you need it,” he says.

Bucky flicks his eyes to the receptionist, then back at Tony and the two large cups of coffee in his hands. He sighs heavily and gestures in front of him. “Lead the way.”

**

The waiting area is blessedly empty. Bucky walks over to a TV in the corner and searches for the remote. He can hear Tony slowly approaching behind him, but decides to distract himself with finding a decent show. But almost every station he clicks on is on commercial. He swears under his breath and slams the remote back down onto the coffee table.

“You break anything in this room, I’m not payin’ for it.”

Bucky whips his head around to find Tony smirking at him, and lets out a little puff of air.

“I just... I want to do... something.” He rakes both hands through his sweat-dampened hair. Then, almost so quietly, he’s not sure Tony even hears: “I’m goin’ a little outta my mind, here.” His voice cracks at the end, and he squeezes his eyes shut against the burn of unshed tears.

“Welcome to fatherhood.” Tony claps a warm hand to Bucky’s back.

“Yeah,” Bucky chokes out through a watery, humorless chuckle. All of his weight slumps into the chair behind him then, and it teeters backwards on wobbly legs. “Baby’s not even here yet, and they’re already giving me a frickin’ heart attack,” he mutters into his hands.

“Like I said,” Tony replies, “welcome to the club. That kid’s gonna scare you shitless about a hundred more times before they’re even outta diapers, so,” he pauses to take a sip of his coffee before saluting the weary man next to him with his styrofoam cup, “buckle up.”

Bucky groans.

Slumped in this stiff chair under too-bright fluorescents, the adrenaline is beginning to wear off.

His hands are beginning to shake again, and a shiver runs through him.

“How far along is she, again?”

“Hm?” Bucky lifts his head, blinking to clear his vision.

“How far along is Shuri? I forget,” Tony repeats.

Bucky blows out a breath. He doesn’t even need to think twice, he’s been keeping track just as closely as her. “Twenty-four weeks, three days.”

“Hm.”

“Yeah,” Bucky rasps, panic threatening to clog his throat again.

Tony clears his throat after a moment. “She still insisting you guys don’t find out the sex?”

“She told you ‘bout that, huh? She uh, she thought it would be a nice surprise. Now I’m not so sure we should’ve waited to find out...” Bucky rubs his mouth.

Another silence.

His fingers twist the fabric of his pants, knees bouncing and jaw clenched as he resists the urge to go up to the nurse’s station for the twentieth time and ask when he can go back and be with his wife.

Tony gently pats his knee, and almost automatically, Bucky stops fidgeting. A little bit of the tension leaves his body and he inhales slowly to keep it at bay.

“Twenty-four weeks, three days,” Tony muses. “That’s early. But-“ he says as Bucky opens his mouth to respond, “but, it’s not terribly early, and you’d be surprised at the things they can do. This is the best place on the East Coast.”

Bucky drops his head again and nods.

“Shuri told me you guys had Arlo here.”

“Sure did.” A small smile lifts the corner of the other man’s mouth as he presumably thinks about his rambunctious and adorable youngest child.

They sit there for several minutes, Tony sipping his coffee quietly while Bucky ignores his in favor of chewing on his nails again.

He doesn’t know how long they’ve been sitting there, but he has half a mind to just burst through the doors and bypass the receptionist all together to find Shuri. He’s halfway out of his seat when Tony pulls his phone out and glances at the screen.

A twinge of guilt shoots through Bucky, and he sits back down. “You can take off whenever you need to. You really didn’t have to keep me company. I appreciate it.”

Tony finishes typing something on his phone and puts it back in his pocket before looking up.

“Believe it or not, I’m happy to do it. Couldn’t just leave you here.”

Bucky flicks his gaze to Tony’s, searches his eyes for any hint of falsehood or irritation.

The corner of Tony’s mouth lifts slightly. “Really, Barnes. I know you and I have some shit to work through. But a lot of that got put into perspective after... all the other shit.”

Bucky huffs out a laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess so.” The knot in his stomach unravels just a tiny bit

“And that woman in there,” Tony gestures toward the doors to triage, “I would do just about anything for her. She’s done a hell of a lot for all of us over the years. And she indulges my old ass when I need a virtual lab partner and Bruce is too busy to be bothered. My kids love her, Pepper loves her. I know she saved you, too.”

Bucky’s throat is clogged again. He looks down at his hands, rubs at the upgraded arm Shuri gifted him on their wedding day: black inlaid with gold and purple, a permanent ring of gold Wakandan lettering etched into his left third finger.

“And you feel like it’s your turn to save her.”

Bucky chuckles, in spite of himself, in spite of everything going on right this second. Because Tony is way too on the nose. He sighs, a heavy, weary thing that seems to leave him deflated. He doesn’t look up as he replies.

“How do I save her from this? How do I fix this? This isn’t the way any of this was supposed to go...”

“You don’t fix it,” Tony interrupts. “Just be there. Whatever happens, don’t hide from her, and don’t try to shield her, either. Just be there and take care of them both. I know I don’t really need to tell you that.”

Bucky takes in Tony’s words. He nods, presses his lips together as he looks up to meet Tony’s eyes. A thank you is on his lips when one of the double doors behind them swings open, and his heart stutters for a second.

“Mr. Barnes?” A petite woman in navy blue scrubs looks back and forth between Bucky and Tony.

Bucky shoots up immediately. “That’s me.”

The nurse waves Bucky forward. “Your wife is back in her room, you can come on back.”

He shoots a glance over his shoulder as he heads toward the door. Tony is on his feet now. “Tell the Her Majesty I’ll call her later to check on her. Rub that belly for me. And take care of yourself, too, yeah?”

Bucky tries for a smile, hopes he makes it. His heart rate is climbing again. “Will do.”

**

Bucky pulls open the curtain and Shuri opens her eyes.

The bed practically swallows her up, she’s so tiny, even with her large belly. The pang in his chest is so acute, it takes him a couple of tries to find his voice.

“Hi, babydoll. How are my two favorite people?”

She gives him a wan smile and shrugs. “We’re okay, I think. Bean has been moving a bit, and the ultrasound looks alright. But,” she pauses and closes her eyes briefly. Bucky walks over and sits on the edge of the bed, reaching out to take both of her soft hands in his.

“It’s okay, angel.”

She clears her throat and looks up at him. “The doctor says my amniotic fluid index is 2 centimeters.”

Bucky frowns. “Is that low?”

“Normal range is 5 to 25 centimeters. Almost all of my fluid is gone. Somehow my cervix is still completely closed, but they want to keep us until the baby is born. The doctor said most people go into labor within 72 hours of their water breaking, so traveling back home is too risky. They’re bringing one of the NICU doctors up soon to discuss things.” Her teeth gnaw at her bottom lip as she pauses, gives him a chance to absorb what she’s saying.

He feels what little breath was in his lungs being knocked out. They’re stuck here. And they’re baby is coming 16 weeks early. The dread in his gut builds. Feels like it’s clawing its way up from his stomach to his chest, and he clamps his mouth shut to keep it from escaping. Something else is bothering his wife. Truth be told, he’s not sure he wants to know what else she hasn’t told him, but he needs to know. He reaches up to pull her bottom lip out from between her teeth. His fingers linger there, caressing her face and memorizing every detail for probably the billionth time.

“What else did they say?”

She sucks in a long breath, then puffs it out. “They said I’m at increased risk for infection now that my water has broken. There’s significantly less protection for Bean and me, the longer I stay pregnant, so they’re putting me on antibiotics, and betamethasone shots to help speed up lung development.”

Bucky swallows thickly. “Do they know how this happened?” She’s been doing everything right - sleeping eight hours a night, taking her vitamins, eating clean, drinking tons of water, exercising appropriately -he can’t wrap his head around this.

Shuri gives a shake of her head and another tired shrug. “I tested negative for any kind of infection. Apparently, most cases of premature rupture have no known cause. Not that that makes me feel any better.” She looks down at her stomach and rubs it slowly, methodically. “According to the scan, Bean is only 1.4 pounds. So tiny, Buck.” Her voice catches on that last part, and then her face crumbles.

Bucky feels like he’s fracturing into a million pieces as he leans forward and draws her into his chest. One hand cradles the back of her head while the other rubs up and down her back. Her belly presses into his, and his control slips.

He’s terrified. For Shuri. For the baby. Heartbroken, because he honestly doesn’t know if their Little Bean is even going to make it. And frustrated, because there isn’t a damn thing he can do about it. Except be here.

Shuri feels the gentle shake of his shoulders. She lifts her head to press her forehead to his, the salt of their tears mingling together as their lips meet. The life inside her belly stirs enough that they both feel the movement, and everything else ceases to matter.

**

She manages to stay pregnant for six more weeks.

Six weeks of daily ultrasounds and bed rest and no privacy and lab draws and living in the hospital because the risk of traveling back home is too great.

Bucky is sure his back will never recover from sleeping on the hospital cot, but he’d give the health of his back and more to have his sweet baby and their Bean safe. He refuses to leave her. Even when Shuri flies in her mother, her OBGYN, her doula, and a couple of the Dora Milaje and puts them all up in a hotel, Bucky sleeps by his Queen’s side.

And when, six weeks to the day that she was admitted, their sweet baby boy makes his way into the world, Bucky is by her side for that too, holding her hand and supporting her as she pushes with more strength than he ever thought any one person could possess.

Ikemba T’Challa Buchanan Barnes is beautiful. Way bigger than predicted for a thirty-weeker, and so strong, but still tiny in the grand scheme of things, and vulnerable.

Bucky barely sleeps because he can hardly stop marveling at the long fingers, the soft tuft of dark brown hair, the satiny chestnut skin. He stays up nights talking with Shuri until she passes out, then quietly reads to baby boy until the wee hours.

It’s another five weeks before they get discharged- five weeks of Shuri faithfully pumping breast milk around the clock until their baby is strong enough to nurse, five weeks of her barely even leaving his room. They’re both a wreck, The White Wolf and the Queen, trying to hold it together enough to make sure their baby boy makes it out of the NICU and back home with them where he belongs.

They can’t get out of there fast enough the day he’s finally discharged. Shuri dresses him in the tiniest little onesie made of black and gold Vibranium thread. She made it herself, embroidered the insignia of the Golden Tribe on the front, and her hand lingers as she brushes softly across it. Bucky’s chest tightens a bit as he watches her eyes squeeze shut for a moment. He knows she’s thinking of her brother.

Silent tears stream down her face as she hovers over Ikemba in his car seat. Bucky flies the Royal Talon himself, because he’s too on edge to let any of the Dora do it. He trusts them with all their lives, but he’s too fidgety to sit in the back with his family.

Home. Get them home. That’s all he wants, and his shoulders don’t settle back down into a normal position until they step onto the tarmac.

Tony calls just as they’re walking into their quarters. Interestingly enough, he calls Bucky’s phone.

“Stark?”

“Hey, daddy, how’s it goin’? You guys in safely?”

Bucky suppresses an eye roll. “Stop calling me that, it sounds gross coming from you.”

Tony laughs on the other end, and Bucky finds himself chuckling as well.

“Whatever, you like it. And you better get used to it, because once my godson learns ‘daddy’ and ‘mommy’, that’s all he’s going to want to say for a while.”

“I think we’re going with ‘baba’ and ‘mama,’ actually,” Bucky replies as he takes Ikemba out of his car seat and hands him to Shuri. He puts the phone on speaker and busies himself with putting their luggage in the closet.

Tony huffs. “You know what I mean. Anyway, how’s my girl?”

“I’m fine, Tony,” Shuri chimes in, settling in the recliner to nurse.

“I’m giving you a week, and then Pepper and I want a ton of pictures of baby boy.”

Shuri chuckles. “Of course. Give Pepper and the kids our love, okay? Well call you later in the week.”

“Alright, Your Majesty. Try to get some rest. You too, pops.”

Bucky snorts as he walks out of the bedroom and into the sitting room to give his loves some peace and quiet. He pauses briefly at the threshold, watching his wife nourish their son, his tiny little grunts and sighs practically melting him into a puddle of gratitude and adoration, before closing the door. “I’ll try. And Tony?”

“Yeah, Barnes.”

“Thank you.”

Tony hums in response. “Nothin’ to thank me for. You guys are family. Just take care of each other.”

Bucky’s chest warms, and he nods. “Of course.”

“Oh, Barnes.”

“What’s up?”

He can hear the smile in Tony’s voice as he replies, “Welcome to fatherhood.” And then the call ends.

A wide grin blooms across Bucky’s face as he walks over to the window overlooking the city. Bright, bustling, beautiful. Home. He closes his eyes and takes a real breath for the first time in three months.

After several minutes, the sweet lilt of Shuri’s voice singing a Wakandan lullaby reaches his ears and Bucky’s face hurts, he’s beaming so hard. He takes one more look at the landscape in front of him, then heads back into the bedroom to bask in the warmth of his family.

[sorry-i-spaced]

Issues

Hawkeye is seen in the show as being a ladies man and quite the player. We know his mom died when he was just 10 and we know Caryle and Trapper both left without saying bye to Hawkeye. So I decided to play with the idea that he has abandonment and commitment issues because of this. I borrowed some of the dialogue from the episode “The More I see of You” in the beginning. 

“If you’d gone into medicine with the same lack of conviction as marriage”

“Your work is always going to be the single most important thing in your life”

“Maybe you would have needed me a little more”

“Doug was able to commit”

“Commit”

Lack of conviction”

“Work….important...lack of conviction”

“Commit”

“Hawk? Hawkeye? Earth to Hawkeye! Anybody up there?” waved a concerned BJ. 

“Huh? Oh,yeah, what?” shook Hawkeye as he came back to reality.

“Did you say something?” asked Hawkeye realizing he had zoned out big time. 

“Yea, I was asking if you wanted to get dinner. I heard Igor was sick of all the grief we gave him so he made an upside down dinner in retaliation.” 

Hawkeye sat there contemplating whether food was more important than wallowing in self pity for the way he let things get between Carlye and him.   

“Nah, I think I’m just going to nap. We are supposed to get a heavy influx of wounded by dawn and I want to catch up on sleep.” And with that BJ got up to leave and Hawkeye laid down in his army issued  mess of a cot and shut his eyes.

“Incoming wounded! All Medical and Surgical staff report for triage! Looks like it will a doozy” barked the PA system.

Opening his eyes Hawkeye threw his  pillow in the direction of  Beej. 

“Get up” he yelled. 

The red haired man rose (wait that’s not right Beej has blonde hair)

“Did you dye your hair and forget to tell me?” asked the raven haired man confused. 

“Not that I’m aware of” called back the other man as he was putting on his shoes. 

The two quickly ran out the door. 

In triage Hawk got right to work. 

“This one has a chest wound. Get some blood in him and get him prepped”

“This one can wait”

Hawkeye barked orders to the nurses. He got up and made a run for the O.R.

“Hawkeye! How goes it?” asked Klinger, who was running in the same direction as him.

Boom!

“Ahh!” yelped Klinger as he threw his head forcefully into the dirt. 

Hawkeye stopped dead in his tracks and looked at the man. Cocking his head to the side he says, “ Klinger, a landmine went off. You’re fine. Get your head out of the dirt this instant. Anybody looking on would think you're bucking for a section 8 again. By reason of ostrich.

“I’m not acting sir” deadpanned Klinger as he lifted his head, shaking the dirt out of his hair.

Hawkeye blinked and shook his head. Klinger was right, he was an ostrich through and through. 

“When did this happen?” he asked.

“I’ve always been one sir. You just couldn’t tell since I spend so much of my time in dresses confident I can get out of the Army. But to be honest I’m scared as shit. Scared of dying and scared I won’t ever return to Toledo the same as I left.” 

The two were now in the scrub room. Hawkeye was washing up. 

“So Beej dyes his hair and forgets to tell me and you're an ostrich?What else will happen today.” 

“Beej didn’t dye his hair. He is a robin.”

“A robin? As in the bird?” questioned Hawkeye as he patted his hands dry.

“He is a songbird. Yes. If you don’t believe me just look at him yourself.” 

The two had somehow ended up in the O.R and Hawkeye was at a table picking apart peacock feathers. Hawkeye looked up and to his surprise Beej was in fact a big fat plump red robin - complete with wings and a beak.

Looking at Klinger Hawkeye was left to wonder, “why?” 

“He left his baby girl very early on in her life.” 

Again Hawkeye had moved from the O.R back into the scrub room. These abrupt scene changes were getting awfully annoying. 

“We all left family to be dragged to this God Forsaken Hell Hole. Why should he be so special.”

“Well for much of the same reason that I’m scared he feels guilty about leaving during such a crucial part of his little girl's life.”

“My mom left me early on in life, I turned out fine.” Hawkeye spat back. 

Hawkeye who realized he was sitting on the bench leaned back against the wall and shut his eyes. Pursing his lips together he began to ask more questions trying not to dwell on the fact his mom left him.

“So Beej is guilty and you're scared. Is there anyone else I should know about?”

Silence. Klinger was trying to figure out what to say. This was all coming out too fast. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. His job was to help propel the story along and these observations were supposed to happen naturally. Well as naturally as having birds operate on patients who just see the shell of the person not the bird. But no this man was too smart for even his unconsciousness. Finally he began to speak, slowly hoping he wouldn’t reveal too much.

“Our fearless leader Potter is a bald eagle because he is insecure in his talents. He is a career man - as I’m sure you’re aware of. But he lacks the knowledge of all these fancy techniques you young doctors seem to pick up so easily. Margaret is a puffin because all she wants to do is be accepted by everyone. Frank is a hummingbird because he is annoying as all shit and is very insecure due to it. Oh and you’re a peacock.” 

That got Pierce to shoot up like a bean pole.

“Wait! Aren’t you going to tell me why I’m a peacock?” his voice raised and wavered a bit. 

“Sorry sir, you’ll have to figure that one out on your own.

“What why? Klinger, you gotta tell me! Come on we know everyone else’s insecurities, why can’t I know my own?”

Klinger didn’t know how to respond. He knew he had 3 sets of 10 minutes and 1 set of an hour of time to try and get Hawkeye to learn why he is a peacock. But he also knew it was up to his subconscious to interact with his unconscious to help move the narrative. 

“Ow!” yelped Hawkeye breaking the silence. 

“What the hell was that?” 

Not even Klinger had an explanation.

All of sudden a flying pillow came out of nowhere. 

Klinger now understood what was happening. Someone was trying to wake Hawkeye. There little mental party would be ending soon. 

“Hawk” echoed a ghostly sound. 

“Why are you calling me a Hawk, I thought you said I was a peac-” 

His eyes shot open! Looking down at him were a pair of blue eyes. Beej

“What? What happened?” Hawkeye asked as he began to get up.

“Wounded” called Beej as he put on his converse. 

“Suction! So yea, don’t know what any of that means but thought I’d share my dream with the rest of the class,” said Pierce as he tried to stop a bleeder his patient had come in with. 

“That’s scary accurate. Especially my fear. How did you pin us all down like that?” called BJ concentrating on his own bleeder. 

“Pierce, are you good with birds? Seems like you pinned us to an appropriate matching bird” called Potter. 

Hawkeye was now working on closing up the patient, “I’ve gone bird watching with my dad back in Maine. One time when I was a kid, right when mom died, he decided to get his mind off her death he was going to do a Big Year. I would come along on bird watching expeditions during school breaks and weekends. But I still would like to know why I’m a peacock. Of all the birds to be.” called Hawkeye. 

“If it bugs you that much, why don’t you ask Sidney the next time he comes up for Poker.” said BJ when they were back in the Swamp. 

They were finally out of surgery and the two swamp rats were playing tennis with a blown up surgical glove they took from the scrub room. 

A week later, before Poker was supposed to take place, Sidney was set up in the VIP tent chatting with Hawkeye. 

“So you dreamt about everyone’s fears personifying and taking the form of birds? What do you think it means?” lead the Psychiatrist. 

“I don’t know Sidney, you tell me, you’re the expert on these types of things.” pleaded Hawkeye, who had taken up pacing around the tent. 

“Hawk, I want you to get to that conclusion yourself. It won’t be helpful if I do it for you.”

Hawkeye stopped pacing and sat down on the edge of the bed. “What do you want to hear. I want to be as helpful as possible. In my dream Klinger said basically the same thing.”

“Humor me and tell me about your childhood, that’s always a good place to start when talking about fears and issues,” claimed Sidney.

“My childhood. What do you wanna know” asked Hawkeye. 

“How was your relationship with your mom?” 

“Nonexistent. I’ve told you before she died when I was 10. Just been dad and I since then.” replied Hawkeye flatley.

“Do you have any resentment towards her dying?” pried Sidney.

“You know dad didn’t even tell me she was sick? He waited until she passed to come clean and tell me. I didn’t even get to say goodbye. I was angry for years. At her for getting sick and at dad for not having the decency to tell me she was sick. But I got over it. No hard feelings”

Rambled Hawk. 

“Ok, so issues from mom, how about dad?”

“Dad? Oh he was great! After mom died we became thick as thieves. He was the one who inspired me to go into medicine. He wasn’t too happy about it to be honest.” gleaned Hawk.

“I remember you telling me last time I was here that there was a nurse here that you had an old fling with. How did that end?”

“Caryle. I really don’t know what happened. We were living together during residency you know.”

Raising an eyebrow Sidney interjected, “ So you guys were serious?” 

“That’s what I thought.” continued Hawkeye. “But just like mom and just like Trapper did 6 months ago, she up and left. I didn’t get to say bye or anything. She just one day decided she had enough of me, packed her bags and was out of the apartment before I even had time to get home and try and stop her. I thought Trapper would have at least left something. But I guess not. I guess I’m just not worth the hassle to say bye too. God. Why did dad not let me tell mom bye. Her own son was in the dark. I get Caryle and Trapper. It was bound to happen. Unhappy relationship and discharge but God, mom? Really? I hated her for it you know. I just wish once someone would leave and tell me about it first. Why do I always have to be the last to know. I bet the thing I got going on with Beej will end just as abruptly as it did with Trapper.” rambled on Hawkeye.

“Hawkeye, stop a minute, let’s process all that you said.” steered Sidney realizing he was losing his patient rapidly. 

Hawkeye shut up and listened. 

“You mention over and over that you never got to say goodbye to all these people. You also mention being the last to hear of relationships ending.”

“Yea, so?” sighed Hawkeye.

“Let’s go back to the dream. In the dream you describe each of your friends as birds relating to their fears and issues. Beej - your best friend is a robin because he is guilty for leaving his baby girl. Klinger is an ostrich - which I never would have pegged him as so thank you for that lovely image - because he is scared and fearful he won’t return home and if he does he will be completely different. Potter is a bald eagle because he is insecure in his abilities despite being a career man in the army. Margaret is a Puffin because she has the fear that she will never fit in anywhere so she forces herself to. And Frank is a hummingbird because he is insecure in his own way and -”

“ - a peacock for commitment issues” finished Hawkeye. 

“Precisely. It seems like you are scared to trust people because everyone seems to leave you at some point. Starting way back when your mom left you abruptly. Oh also in my own professional diagnosis I would also tack on abandonment issues” added Sidney.

“What gives Sid, I thought you were going to let me come to the conclusion on my own accord.” whimpered Hawkeye.

“Eh, I see how hard you’re trying to figure this all out, so I decided to give you a freebie” laughed Sidney.

“Well in true Freud fashion, my issues really do stem from my mother,” laughed Hawkeye sadly. 

The two sat for another hour trying to brainstorm ways Hawkeye could push past these thoughts of abandonment and commitment issues and how he could overcome them. 

The End!

[eriktherogue]

Reconnaissance In a New Realm

Children ran around the court square outside of the orphanage in Stormwind. From time to time, the matron of the orphanage would look out the door to make sure that everyone was safe. Some children played near the fountain while others ran along the street. Most tried not to get too close to the Cathedral to risk disturbing the priests and paladin there. For that reason, none of the young people noticed the lone figure who stood in the shadow of their home.

Erik watched the front steps of the Cathedral. He stood quietly in the shadows and took care to not be noticed. His leather armor blended in with the darkness beside the building so that most passersby never saw him. His gaze never wavered from the entrance. He seemed intent on the comings and goings there, but never made any other move. 

Another group of priests came out of the Cathedral and made their way down the steps. Half way down, one priest separated from the rest and started walking in Erik’s direction. The rogue stepped away from the shadows and began walking towards the Cathedral in a path that would cross the lone priest. As they got closer, the priest pulled on a bag that had been slung over his shoulder and held it in his hand. At the same moment, the rogue reached into his pocket and withdrew a small leather pouch. As the path of the two men crossed, they paused.

“Here, this will disguise you,” the priest said offering the bag to Erik. “The next group will be leaving in about thirty minutes. Just long enough for us to get more supplies for the journey. Paperwork inside should get you where you need to go.”

“Where will the portal be?”

“Off the great hall. Can’t miss it. Guards are stationed to make sure only authorized people go through.”

“Thank you,” Erik said quietly as he reached over to take the pack. With the other hand, he gave the priest the small leather bag. “This should cover your inconveniences.”

“Just don’t get caught,” the priest said as he took the money bag and tucked it into a pocket. “Getting back may be harder. The papers clear you for it, but they change their minds quickly over there.”

“Anything else I need to know?”

The priest shook his head. Erik nodded and then started walking towards the steps again, leaving the priest behind. The priest, surprised by the abrupt departure almost turned to look at the rogue before his common sense caught up with him and prevented the glance. The priest continued walking past the orphanage and disappeared around the corner.

Erik slung the sack over his shoulder and started walking towards the entrance to the Cathedral. With luck, a group of travelers were heading up the stairs as well, and Erik moved in behind them. As the guards checked their papers, they let the group in and Erik passed without question or incident. Once inside, he took a quick survey of the main hall. It was crowded and loud with people moving constantly. 

Breaking away from the group he’d followed in, Erik moved to the sides of the great hall and then turned down one of the hallways. Slowly, he followed the hallway until it finally emptied and he was alone. Testing one of the doors, he found it locked. He put an ear to the door and heard nothing from inside. Then he heard someone coming from further down the hallway. Erik turned and started walking back to the great hall so that his back was turned to the new arrivals. A pair of priests walked briskly past him and never paid the rogue a glance. Once they were past the entrance to the hall, Erik turned again and moved back to the locked door. Pulling out his lock picks, he made quick work of the lock and slipped into the empty office. There, he opened the sack and pulled out some priestly robes and the travel papers he had been promised. Erik pulled the robes over his leathers, adjusting them as best he could to hide the nature of his armor beneath. Then he looked over the papers. They were simple, straightforward, and bore the signature and stamp of the bishop. These should do, Erik thought to himself.

The rogue put his ear to the door for a moment before opening it. Seeing no one in the hallway, he slipped out and shut the door behind him. Quickly, he made his way back to the great hall. It was still very active with an obvious flow towards one doorway at the far end. Erik took a moment to consider the scene when he saw a priest walking in his direction with a stack of large boxes in his hand. Erik walked to the priest’s side and subtly bumped into him, causing the priest to lose balance and the boxes started to tumble.

“It’s okay,” Erik said as he caught the top box and helped to hold the others steady until the priest regained his balance.

“Thanks,” the priest said. “They’re not heavy, but they sure are awkward.” 

“I understand,” Erik said as he held onto the box and tucked it under his arm. “Never enough hands.”

“I’ll say,” the priest answered with a knowing nod. “So much to do and never enough people to do it. So who’s left holding the bag?”

“Or the box?”

“Or the box. That’s right. Us!” The priest suddenly shrunk a little, realizing that his voice had gotten louder than he intended. He gave Erik a chagrined look, but the rogue simply shrugged.

“I didn’t hear anything,” Erik said quietly as he started walking alongside the priest. They continued on to the doorway with the flow of people. The priest continued the small talk, but Erik only partially paid attention. 

As soon as the passed the doorway, he saw the large portal the dominated the room. Two mages stood on either side and held it open as the flow of people continued through. Taking a deep breath and clinching his jaw slightly, the rogue continued forward.

“It’s not that bad,” the priest said to Erik in a whisper. “I’ve been there once already. It’s kind of pretty.”

Erik simply nodded and then stepped into the glowing portal. He let his breath out quickly as he appeared on a platform, the breath quickly turning into a slight whistle as he looked at the floating city for the first time.

“Like I said, kind of pretty.”

“Keep it moving! We need to get these supplies sorted and shipped to Bastion!”

The rogue looked around and saw the mists around the city. Nearby was a portal floating in the air. At the edge of the platform another priest started barking commands, telling them where to take the supplies that they had just brought over. Erik stay with his group and carried the box into the city. The group was led towards a room to the side of the main entrance and there they started to deposit the bags and boxes that they had brought with them.

“I’ll be right back,” Erik said to his new friend.

“The bathroom is to the right. I don’t think they had any before we arrive,” he added in a quieter tone.

Erik nodded and then stepped out into the walkway. First he looked back to the landing platform to his left, then he looked to his right and followed the crowd. The circular room was as huge as any Erik had ever seen, and the pillar of light in the middle definitely drew attention. The rogue fought the urge to gaze around and instead tried to identify where people were going.

“Get up to the flight station right away. They need those supplies.”

“I hate using those worm things. Why can’t they open a portal to Bastion?”

Erik nonchalantly looked over to see the two priests having the conversation. One was carrying a large backpack.

“Don’t know. Don’t care. Just get those medical supplies there immediately.”

“Is it that bad?”

“Don’t know. But they’ve been calling for them all morning. Get going.”

The priest with the backpack nodded and stepped over to a square platform near the column of light. Erik watched with interest as the priest then disappeared. The rogue quickly stepped over to the platform and looked it over. He saw no obvious mechanism so, tentatively, he stepped up. There was a flash and then he found himself on a new level. The rogue glanced around and saw the priest he had followed walking towards one of the floating figures that were everywhere in this place. Erik stepped off the platform and followed, getting close enough to hear the priest tell the floating figure that he was heading to someplace called Bastion. The floating figured nodded and gestured to one of the floating beasts beside him. They looked like magical worms. Erik watched as the priest climbed onto its back and flew off.

“Where would you go?” the floating figure asked Erik as he walked closer.

“I must check on the wounded in Bastion.”

“Of course,” the floating figure responded, pointing to one of the flying creatures. Erik hesitated for a moment and then climbed onto its back. The beast smoothly lifted from the ground and flew to a large, glowing window. As he passed through, everything changed to blurring colors and light. He held onto the reigns tightly as the beast seemed to know where to go on its own. Finally, they passed through another portal and there was ground beneath them again.

Erik scanned the land below. It looked vaguely familiar, even if it was not his own home. He hoped that the beast would know where to take him and, after a short flight, his hope was rewarded. He could see a collection of buildings and various people moving about at them. Along with a large collection of priests and priestesses, there appeared to be other humanoids. Most were blue and some had wings. The beast began descending towards the buildings and within moments was on the ground. As soon as he slid out of the saddle and stood up, he ducked his head and moved into a nearby group before anyone could call to him. Scanning the area, he could see several who had the bearing or markings of someone in charge.

As he moved within the crowd, Erik saw several priests off to the side of the buildings. On the ground lay more individuals, giving the appearance of a triage area. He was about to move on from the area when a movement caught his attention. A priestess was kneeling next to one of the injured soldiers and had reached up to tuck a loose strand of hair back behind her ear. She was here.

Erik moved closer to the triage area and positioned himself across from Niviene. After a few moments, she stopped tending to the soldier on the ground and leaned back on her heels. As she blankly scanned the area around her, her gaze continued past the rogue. Then she stopped and turned her head back towards him. Erik saw recognition in her eyes and saw her draw breath with the intention of speaking. The rogue shook his head slightly and then his eyes glanced to the side. Niviene followed his gaze and saw one of the Cathedral priests watching the healers. Niviene dropped her gaze to the soldier beside her and nodded. After a moment, she looked up again. Erik slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a stone which she immediately recognized. Niv nodded again.

“Get back to it priests!” someone nearby yelled. Niviene forced herself to look away and turn her attentions back to the soldier beside her. Erik risked a glance at the voice, getting a good look at the person’s face, before turning and heading back to the landing area.

“Greetings, priest. How may I assist you, today?” one of the blue skinned people asked.

“I must return to the city.”

“Oribos? Or course.” She gestured to what looked liked a winged lion. Erik nodded and walked to the lion, climbing onto its saddle. The lion leapt into the air and soon they were on their way through the portal and back to Oribos. As they passed through the first portal, he looked beneath him and started a little to see he was riding one of the magical worms again. Erik glanced from side to side. He looked for anything definitive, but all he could see were streams of light and a pale blue that filtered around everything. And then they flew through another portal and appeared back in Oribos. 

The rogue slipped down from the saddle without and response to the greeting of the floating figure who was waiting there. Erik quickly walked over to the platform and with a flash found himself on the lower level of the city once more. It took him a few minutes of wandering before he finally found the walkway that led to the platform where the portal originally brought him to this strange world. He started making his way down the hall when he heard someone call out.

“Where are you going?”

Erik ignored the voice and kept walking. Suddenly, Erik felt a hand grab his shoulder and jerk him to a stop. He was pulled around to face a priest with his hand gripping the shoulder of Erik’s robes and two paladins standing beside him.

“I asked where you were going priest.”

“I was returning to Azeroth.”

“On whose authority?”

Erik reached into the pocket of his robes and brought out the papers he had been carrying. He then offered the papers to the priest. The priest looked over the papers and scowled.

“You’re coming with me until we get this sorted out.”

“I’m sorry,” Erik said, looking the priest in the eyes.

“Don’t be sorry, just do what you’re told.”

“No, I’m sorry that this has to hurt.”

The rogue thrust his hand forward and punched the priest in the throat. The priest let go of Erik and stumbled back as he held his throat and gasped for air. The paladin to the left reached up and tried to grab Erik, but ducked beneath the paladin’s grasp. Erik stepped back and then pushed off of the paladin’s back, causing him to lose his balance and tumble into the other paladin. Erik reached into his pocket again and pulled out a small orb. He threw it at the ground where it shattered and suddenly there was a plume of smoke. The rogue turned and sprinted down the walkway. He was already outside by the time he heard the calls from behind him. As the paladins came running through the smoke, Erik leapt forward and dove into the portal that shimmered on the landing pad.

Erik ducked his head and rolled across the ground. Looking up, he recognized the portal room in the Mage Tower. He jumped to his feet and ran towards the entrance ramp, tearing off the robes he’d been wearing as he went. He burst out into the sunlight and ran down the ramp. As soon as he was on the ground level, he ran to the corner of one of the businesses and moved to the other side. Controlling his breathing, he waited and watched the entrance to the tower. Soon, a group of men in armor came jogging down the ramp. Erik turned and pulled his hood up over his head as he walked away. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his stone.

“Commander. I found her.”

[superapplepie]

In-between the Flames: Part 2

Summary: After years in an abusive relationship, with the help of a few coworkers, you finally make your great escape. Will you find happiness where you least expect it or will your past catch up to you?

Pairing: Eddie x Reader x Buck

Word count: 1142

Warnings: Abusive relationship, hospitals, gunshot wound, a few curse words

Author’s note: This is unedited so all the mistakes are mine, hopefully it’s not too horrible. I’m planning a part 3 or epilogue if anyone is interested? Anyways, enjoy!!

Part 1

Heavy footsteps sounded on the stairs, announcing Eddie and Buck’s descent down them towards your ex. You sat frozen in fear on the couch, afraid of what was to come. Sitting motionless, listening, trying to hear what your ex was saying. It wasn’t until the word “gun” echoed your ears that you jumped to your feet. You weren’t about to let anyone get hurt because of you.

Each step you took seemed to increase the anxiety that was already racing through your veins. The scene unfolding in the engine bay seemed to stop as you came into view. Your ex stood a few feet in front of you, waving a gun, surrounded by cautious firemen attempting to talk him down. Neither Eddie or Buck saw you until it was too late; your ex snatched you roughly by the arm, pulling you in front of him.

“You stupid bitch,” he pressed his gun to the middle of your back and snarled. “Thought you could get away from me again, eh?”

“No! Let her go, please!” Buck pleaded with your ex-boyfriend, the fear in his voice evident.

“Hmm, no… I don’t think I will. Ya see this bitch belongs to me, and I intend to remind her of that” the gun pressed harder against you.

“You’re not going anywhere with her,” Eddie retorted, clenching his fists.

“You’re right; I’m not. I’m going to punish her right here in front of her two knights in shining armor. Then maybe you’ll learn to mind your business!” your ex barked back with force.

His free hand made it’s way up around your neck, applying pressure until you were gasping for air.

“How many times did you let them fuck you, huh? How many times did you choke on their cocks like a slut?” He questioned without expecting an answer.

“Put the gun down.” Athena’s voice sounded from behind you.

Your ex spun around with a wicked grin facing her but not turning his back towards Eddie or Buck. You felt the gun loosen slightly, assuming he had been caught off guard by the arrival of the police. Taking a deep breath and gathering all your strength, you ramed your elbow up and into his nose as hard as you could. The force behind the impact caused him to stumble back, allowing you to escape from the clutches of his arms. You lunged towards the safety of Buck and Eddie. Your ex, still having a slight hold on his gun, fired as he fell to the ground, the shot reverberated around the engine bay loudly.

Everything after that happened so fast. Athena and her partners moved in quickly to subduing him further. Adrenalin pumped through you as you landed in Buck’s opened arms, it wasn’t until he felt something wet on your back that you fully realized that the bullet had managed to squeeze its way into your lower back.

“Oh shit, Y/N, oh shit, shit,” Buck chanted frantically.

Hen and Chimney rushed in now that your ex was in custody and began triaging your wound. You knew they were probably talking to you, telling you to stay with them, but your ears were still ringing from the shot, muffling all other sounds. Your eyes began to flutter shut occasionally, creating a snapshot of worried faces each time they opened and closed. Before you knew it, you were loaded up in the ambulance and on your way to the hospital. That’s when the world became foggy around you, and your eyes grew heavier.

You would be lying if you hadn’t wondered what it felt like to be shot. It was one of the things that deterred you from becoming a cop. However, being with the 118, you had experienced your fair share of danger and injuries. The pain searing through you was unlike anything you had felt before; it felt like someone took a hot poker and pressed it relentlessly into your skin until it broke through.

The next time you woke up, you groaned; pain darted around as you tried your best to sit up in the unfamiliar bed. The heart monitor was beeping, signally that you were, in fact, alive. Opening your eyes, you glanced at the sterile hospital room before eyeing the two lumps of men on either side of your bed. Smiling to yourself, you poke Eddie gently until he sat up, a look of relief spreading across his worn face.

“Y/N! You’re awake! Buck, she’s awake!” Eddie said excitedly before leaning in and hugging you gently.

“Oh, thank god, I thought you were a goner,” Buck joked and smirked before ducking when Eddie reached across the bed to slap him.

Buck leaned in, pecked your cheek, and gave you the same hug Eddie had just done. He then sauntered out in search of your nurse. Eddie’s eyes followed him before returning to meet your gaze. His eyes were bloodshot, and the dark circles under them were evidence that he hadn’t been sleeping much. Judging by his disheveled look, you guessed you had been out for a few days.

Once the nurse came in to do her vital checks, ask you the standard questions, and to check the bandaging on your wound, a steady flow of visitors began. First up was Maddie and Chimney, providing the usual condolences and well wishes. Bobby and Athena were next. Athena gave you the rundown on the case she was building against your ex. Bobby, being the father figure he was, hugged you and told you how glad he was that you were okay. Several more visitors made their way through the doors, and before you knew it, a yawn escaped your mouth.

Eddie looked down at you with a sweet smile.

“You should rest, Y/N.” he reached out, pulling your hand towards his mouth, lightly kissing your knuckles.

“You are one to talk, Eddie. When’s the last time you slept? Go home, shower, and take a nap. It’s not like I’m going anywhere anytime soon,” you smiled up at him, knowing he couldn’t tell you no.

“Fine, you’re right. I’ll be back,” Eddie kissed your cheek and walked out, leaving you with Buck.

“He’s so whipped,” Buck laughed, watching Eddie leave.

“You’re leaving too Buck, you need to sleep and for the love of God take a shower,”  you attempted to say in a serious tone, but it soon turned to a giggle when Buck looked down at you offended.

“Okay, okay, I’ll go, but I promise I’ll be back before Eddie.” he leaned in, kissing your other cheek and giving you a wink.

You had to laugh at the childish competitions that always seemed to be going on between the two.

“Oh, you’re so whipped,” you mocked Buck as he walked towards the door.

“Yeah, yeah,” he waved you off and walked out.

@campingmonkey​ @like-a-bag-of-potatoes​

[crystalwillow]

The Pregnancy, Part Three

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Casey Valentine (F!MC)

Tagging: @kiteplayschoices @brycelahelalover @obsessedheehee @eleanorbloom @fuseboxmusebox @princesslahela @vibrantlyjaz @kaavyaethanramsey @queencarb @schnitzelbutterfingers​ @ramseysno1rookie​ @caseyvalentineramsey @ethanramseyswhore @whippedforethanfreakingramsey

====================

A few days had passed since Ethan shared the news with his wife that she's carrying triplets. It was now halfway through Casey's last week at work and that news was only now settling in for the both of them, "Wow. Triplets..." Casey said for about the billionth time, as she sipped on her water with her legs stretched out in front of her, staring into the abyss of nothingness. Ethan sat across from her and nodded in silent agreement. "Doctor Ramsey?" A fellow senior doctor said poking their head into the office. "Yes?" Ethan and Casey spoke in unison as their heads turned towards the door. The doctor smiled apologetically "Ah. Sorry... Ethan. You're needed in the ER for triage." The doctor said before turning and leaving. "Wish me luck" Ethan grimaced as he clipped the lid back onto his lunch box and placed it in the draw before kissing Casey's forehead tenderly and rushing out of the door to the ER, leaving Casey to zone out and finish lunch alone. After she had finished up her lunch, Casey grabbed some sticky notes and a pen that were sitting on Ethan's desk and drew him a couple of pictures, sticking them on his computer for him to see when he got back to the office. Later on Casey trudged to the hospital lab to stretch her legs and drop off some blood samples for testing, as she walked, she twizzled her badge round her finger and dropped it. "Drat." She muttered under her breath and held onto the wall bending down, "I don't think so Dr. Ramsey" a nurse passing by said as he raced forward and picked her lanyard up and handed it back to her, "Thank you" she smiled kindly and continued on her way to the lab. As she reached the end of her shift she realized that a skeleton crew had been left to run the hospital, She walked back towards her office to finish up some paperwork and close out a file or two when she spotted Elijah waiting at the elevators near her office. She was about to call out his name, but the elevator pinged, and he wheeled himself in and the doors closed behind him. She sighed and entered her office and completed her work. Later when she was done, she sat in her office and waited for Ethan to come and meet her so they could walk to the car together. She waited and waited but he never knocked or came and put his head in the door, so with a frown, she grabbed her bag and trudged to the elevator and pressed the button, heading down to the atrium to head out and call a cab home, convinced that Ethan had forgotten that she was at work. The elevator reached the ground level and she stepped out, heading towards the main doors and outside. Sitting on a bench she pulled out her phone and started dialing for a cab. "... Yes, that's right... okay thank you." She said and hung up. Soon the cab arrived, and she was on her way home, but when she got there, she saw that the car her and Ethan went to work in wasn't in the driveway and she instantly felt even worse. She thought that she was going to get home and be able to cuddle up with her husband and talk but instead she was going to be alone until he got home from wherever he was.

Meanwhile back at Edenbrook Jackie and Bryce sprinted out of the elevator and over to Ethan. "She's not in there!" Jackie exclaimed as they stopped in front of him. Ethan turned around to face them with a raised brow, "What do you mean she's not there?" he questioned. "Exactly that bro! Her office is empty." Bryce repeated Jackie panicked. "What's going on?" Sienna asked as she approached the group, failing to hide their panic. "She's not in her office. My wife is almost 7 months pregnant with triplets, and she's disappeared. She said she'd wait for me after she finished. I don't understand. Someone- I- who would?-" Ethan said as he started panicking and hyperventilating the more he spoke. "Ethan. Ethan look at me." Bryce spoke in an even, measured tone as he placed his hands on the panicking doctors shoulders. "Look at me." He repeated as Ethan continued to stare at the ground. His hyperventilating getting worse and worse. "Oh god. Sienna grab some portable oxygen. Bryce get him to that bench over there. Elijah! ELIJAH! .... Get Casey on the phone STAT!" Jackie said as she gave everyone orders. As Elijah held his phone to his ear Sienna came running back with the oxygen, Dr. Harper Emery in tow. "What happened?!" Dr. Emery snapped as her high heels clacked on the floor. "With all due respect, now really is not the time Dr. Emery" Bryce spoke sympathetically as Sienna placed the oxygen mask on Ethan's face and turned it on. "With me now, okay?" Jackie spoke softly as she knelt down looking into Ethan's eyes "In...... and out. And again, in........ and out" She continued. About 15 minutes later A panicked voice filled the atrium from the entrance. "ETHAN? HONEY?!" Casey shouted out, Sienna approached her and led her over to Ethan, who was a sweaty, dazed looking mess. "Oh god. Honey. I'm so sorry" Casey whispered tenderly as she sat next to him, pulling him to her chest and pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. The two sat there for a while in an unbreakable embrace, at one-point Elijah comes over and gives them a blanket to keep warm seeing as it's getting later in the night and the temperature is dropping. About another 30 minutes pass and Sienna comes back wheeling a cart of steaming hot food with her, "Who's hungry?" she asks happily. Everyone snaps up a plate and sits down, tucking into the deliciously hot food. "Don't worry Casey, I got you 2 chicken burgers and enough fries to feed 6. Plus I didn't forget your punnet of green grapes and a caramel decaf cappuccino and bottle of water to wash it all down. Or alternatively I got you Chinese too. Whichever you don't have, feel free to take it home for later." She beamed. They all sat together and ate, talking excitedly about the latest things going on with the things they are interested in. After they finished Ethan collected the plates and cutlery and disposed of them in the nearest trash can. As Casey stood to her feet and gave all her friends a hug, Harper came storming back towards the group, "nice to see we've turned Edenbrook into a community center now" she snapped not registering Casey had now joined them. "Look, Dr. Emery, I don't mean any harm by my following statement but... WHAT is up your ass?" Sienna asked, with her face screwed up in anger. The rest of the gang stared on in complete shock. Sienna had never spoken to a superior like this, much less Harper Emery. Shocked herself, Dr. Emery quickly regains her composure "Nothing." She choked out. "Bullshit. I've seen you. You're fine around Ethan until Casey's name comes up or she enters the room." Sienna pushed as she got into Harper's face. "Doc... Are you...? jealous?" Bryce asked, bewilderment spreading onto his face as Ethan gripped his wife's hand tightly. "Oh... this is, fucked up." Jackie spoke as the smile fell from her face.

Elijah came forward, "You're the one who sabotaged the wedding aren't you?" He said conspiritally looking at Harper. "You were jealous Casey caught Ethan's attention in a way you couldn't. You tried to break them up with a series of schemes throughout the hospital leading up to their engagement. Which killed your heart. You loved Ethan and still have feelings for him today, but despite all your meddling, Casey and Ethan only got stronger in their relationship. The opposite result of what you wanted. You wanted everything to fall apart so that Ethan would come to you and you could get Casey kicked out of Edenbrook, and you could sink your claws into him and trap him in a relationship he wouldn't have wanted. But now you have to spend every day working in the same hospital as them and watch another woman do what you wanted to do the most. Carry and eventually birth his offspring. You thought Casey was a weak and easy target, but she is stronger than most people I know. And you picked the wrong people to mess with." Elijah spoke seriously as he turned his chair to face everyone. "She's even the one behind that time Casey got severely drugged." He added. Everyone looked at Harper with faces full of disappointment. Even other doctors passing by had stopped to listen, drawn in by the commotion. "Harper.. why?" Ethan asked as he stared at the floor not daring to look her. "He said it didn't he? Ethan I lo-" She cried but was cut off as Ethan held up his hand. "I'm married and happy in that marriage. I've always been happy in this relationship. Nobody will change that." He spoke sternly as Casey yawn beside him. He looked at her and made his decision. "I'm going home. My WIFE needs to get to bed. We'll finish this conversation tomorrow. With two other seniors in the room. I don't trust you anymore" He continued as he started walking with Casey towards the main doors to go home. "WAIT!" Harper shouted, "What does she have that I don't?!!" she demanded. Ethan and Casey turned around and looked at her with a steely and level gaze. "Compassion and consideration" He spoke emotionless. They left as Harper sat on a chair and cried. Nobody stopped to console her. They just all either went to clock out or carried on with work.

It was the next day, Ethan was 2 hours into his shift, and it was time for the meeting with Harper and the two other superior staff that had been chosen to be in the room. "Okay. You both understand why we're here?" Dr. Brant said. Ethan and Harper nodded. Ethan carrying an annoyed look on his face and Harpers energy just radiating embarrassment. "Okay. So let's talk" Dr. Brant continued, looking back and forth between the two doctors sitting opposite each other. A heavy, uncomfortable silence hung in the air as Ethan waited for Harper to speak. She didn't. "Oh for god's sake Emery! Speak!" Ethan shouted loudly, annoyance in his tone. Harper flinched at that. He had never been angry with her to this extent and it filled her with even more shame and embarrassment. After a while she explained herself, revealing that she developed feeling for Ethan shortly after meeting him and that she was so blinded by her feelings for him that she never heard his words say or took his actions as a no. She admitted to her jealously and confessed to everything she had done to try and ruin Casey and her career. As he listened, Ethan got so angry that he abruptly got out of his seat and slammed the door open and marched down the hall. The other 3 doctors followed him. "Ethan I-" Harper spoke, "NO! KEEP THAT WOMAN AWAY FROM ME AND MY WIFE. I MEAN IT!" Ethan demanded rather loudly as he marched towards the elevator to go to Casey's office. When he got there, he knocked on the door "One second!" she answered from the other side and made her way to the door moving a chair out of the way and opening it. "Oh Ethan. Hey" she smiled warmly and stepped aside letting him in and closed the door behind him. She had barely turned around when she felt her husband's arms fold around her, and his form start to shake as he sobbed onto her shoulder. He was so angry he couldn't do anything else. Instead of speaking Casey just softly embraced him back, stroking his hair and giving him small kisses on his stubble. "Hey. It's going to be okay honey." She said soothingly into his ear after a while and they stepped apart and looked into each others eyes and Casey offered him a tissue with a soft smile. "Thank you" Ethan whispered as he took a couple and blew his nose. "I've got work to do but you're welcome to take as long as you need in here" Casey said as she sat back in her office chair, facing her computer once again. Ethan nodded and took a seat. "Could I help you in anyway?" he asked. Casey was in the middle of typing so he waited for an answer. "um. ... yeah. Sure. You could help me organize my folders alphabetically or clean up some files and put all the paperwork in the right place." She spoke as she continued to type. Ethan got to work grabbing some folders and putting all the documents in the correct order, making sure all the important information was highlighted for her. As he was halfway through one of the folders his pager went off, so he checked it. "I've got to attend to this. I'll be back in a bit" he sighed and left the office. Later that night Casey made her way to Ethan's office to say that she was heading home. When she reached his door, she lifted her hand to knock but dropped it again when she heard a hushed voice come from inside the office. "Please Ethan. I need you to believe me. We can move past this." it pleaded desperately. Instead of knocking Casey just barged into the room, seeing Harper standing opposite to a pissed off looking Ethan. "So, you're still trying to get your claws into my husband." Casey spoke coldly with a glare equally as cold. "It should have been me! It was supposed to be me! But your stupid blonde bitch bag ass had to get involved!" Harper screamed as she got into Casey's face.

But being the brave woman she is, Casey just returned her glare, not backing down. "Look. I don't care for your little vendetta against me for "stealing your man", But when my children's lives, unborn children at that. When their lives are at risk because of you, you best believe that when I'm no longer pregnant that your ass is going down. It will not be the demise of Casey Ramsey. It will be the demise of Harper Emery. And yes, I may lose Aurora as a friend, but I would rather risk losing a friend over the family and happy life I am building for myself and my future family." She spoke back at Harper through clenched teeth. The two women held and intense glare for a few moments, then Harper stalked off out of Ethan's office, heels clacking on the floor as she walked away. Casey spoke to Ethan and gave him ideas for dinner, then the two hugged and said goodbye, with Casey heading home.

A couple months had passed since the incident with Harper had happened. At first everyone involved tried to carry on as normal but then Harper lashed out again, resulting in her now current suspension from work, whilst something is sorted out to keep everyone safe, to ensure the patients get the best possible care whilst at Edenbrook. Of course, Casey wasn't at the hospital to work currently, as she's due to give birth almost any day now, but she liked tagging along with Ethan when she felt extra cuddly because he allowed her to hug him whilst he worked on his computer, and also just being in his presence kept her calm. They were talking during one of Ethan's breaks in his office, when Casey suddenly inhaled sharply. "oooo. Ow." She groaned. Panic crossed Ethan's face as he sat up straighter in his chair. "Don't worry. One of them just booted my side, rather harshly. That's all." Casey smiled, and Ethan relaxed a little. Soon Ethan's break was over, and he had to leave his office to carry on with work. Casey stayed in the office, but quickly got bored so decided to take a walk around the floor she was on to talk to some doctors. She was almost back at Ethan's office when a sharp pain shot through her. "Argh!" she screamed as she doubled over, holding onto the wall. A few doctors rushed over to her. ".... the babies.... they're coming!" she panted as she breathed through the pain. One doctor shouted to another to get a wheelchair, whilst another ran to get Ethan.