#anyways i lost both my brain cells in the workshop

[floralbfs]

when will my brain cell return from the war

[caught-in-a-seesaw-stigma]

Map of the Soul, Chapter One

For the @btswritingcafe​‘s Map of the Soul: 7 Workshop

Author’s Note: This story pulled me into long range territory, so I had to split it into 7 chapters to make it more manageable on Tumblr. Here is the first installment of this journey through the soul. I hope you like it!  

Pairings: OT7 x reader (kinda); Jungkook x reader

Series Summary: If you give a piece of yourself to everyone you love, at some point, there will be nothing left for yourself. While feeling lost and alone in your adult life, a strange box falls onto your head in your own closet, and you take an unexpected walk down memory lane wondering where everything went wrong.  Was it the romances that fizzled out, the friends & loved ones you left behind, the “what could’ve been” moments, the brush with Fate that never quite connected? Could the strange map you find have the answers you are looking for?  Determined to feel complete once again, you embark on a journey to reclaim the missing pieces of your soul.

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut

Word Count: 8K+

Warnings: NSFW 18+ cursing/profanity, alcohol consumption, sexual tension,  one night stand, sexual content, protected sex, oral sex (female receiving)

Chapter One: There’s Always Time for Euphoria

March 15th - 5:45pm

Done.

That was the singular thought pulsating in your brain as you parked the car. The day was only halfway over and you were way past the breaking point of your own sanity.

From the moment you’d stepped out of bed and into your urine soaked house slippers, you should’ve known that the day was going to be beyond disastrous. Even as you washed them in the tub and left them hanging to dry, you just knew the rest of the day would be a downhill slide.

You didn’t know why your dog Oberyn was upset, but apparently, it was enough to prompt his indiscretion on your only pair of house slippers. He’d even had the audacity to sit in his bed and glare at you while you hurled your anger and frustration at him as you got dressed for your day.

I don’t know what crawled up his butt this morning, but I hope he’s in a better mood. I’m in no condition to deal with his bullshit right now.

After almost tripping up the stairs to your apartment entrance and dropping your keys into the bushes on the way up, you finally made it across the threshold. You quickly changed out your work shoes for sneakers and got Oberyn ready for his walk. Fifteen minutes later, you were cleaning the bottom of your shoe after a happy little accident found your foot at the dog park. Oberyn seemed to smirk at your misfortune, but you couldn’t even muster the energy to care.

Once you both returned to the apartment, you put his harness and leash away and reached over to grab his after-walk treats. You noticed one was already out on top of the container and the morning’s havoc immediately made sense. Oberyn wagged his tail and waited patiently for his treats and a well deserved apology.

“I’m sorry, buddy,” you sighed, handing him both treats. “I didn’t realize I’d forgotten to give this to you.”

He accepted your apology and head pats, then happily grabbed both snacks and ran to eat them on his bed. You shook your head and smiled at the easily appeased creature.

If only everything worked like that. You get something you were missing and it suddenly solves all your problems. The Universe finally makes sense again. What a life!

You quickly changed into comfy clothes and collapsed unceremoniously onto the couch. The random assortment of unfortunate events of the day replayed like a blooper reel in your mind and you groaned at the stacks of embarrassment and humiliation you’d endured.

You’d locked yourself out of your office and the university maintenance guy took forever to unlock it for you, which made you late to your first class. You had to dismiss the class and reschedule the quiz since all the copies were sitting on your desk in your locked office.

You’d torn your favorite black slacks and had to patch them with bright green thread from your emergency sewing kit.

You’d sustained several injuries including three paper cuts, a stubbed toe, your knee knocking the underside of a table, and a staple stabbing underneath your fingernail.

You’d spilled coffee down the front of your blouse when a fly unexpectedly dove into your face.

You’d even lost one of your favorite earrings while taking off your scarf outside the Humanities building. It was now lost among the clumps of mud by the front door.

Why does the Universe hate me so much today?

RIIIIINNGGG!!

You swiveled your head over to your cell phone screeching at you from the side table. The comical picture of your mother flashing on the screen drew a groan of exasperation from your throat.

I can’t deal with her right now.

The phone ceased its machinations and you turned into the couch seeking an escape from the tragedies of the day.

RIIIIINNGGG!!

“Argh!” You wailed. “What could she possibly need from me right now?!”

After taking a deep breath, you picked up the offending device and swiped the screen to answer the call.

“Hello, mother,” you grumbled. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” she sighed. “Don’t talk to your mother like that. It’s undignified.”

“I apologize,” you corrected with fake cheerfulness. “Hi, Mommy! I missed the sound of your voice. How was your day?”

“We really need to work on your phone etiquette, honey,” your mother groaned. “You’ll never meet anyone with that attitude.”

“Yes, mother,” you replied snarkily. “My goal in life is to trap someone in my love nest with only my wit and wisdom as weapons.”

“Anyway,” she drawled. “The reason I’m calling is because I’m looking for something. Do you remember that stole you wore for your college graduation? The one your grandmother made?”

“Yeah, I remember,” you responded. “It has all the graduate names from our family embroidered on it. It’s in my memory box in the closet. Why?”

“Your cousin Sana is graduating from college in about a week,” she announced happily. “I need that stole so we can get it embroidered before the graduation ceremony. Can you overnight it to me, darling?”

You leaned back on the couch and released a sigh of defeat.

Of course other people are doing great things in their life. I’m the only dumbass stuck in a rut right now.

“I’ll dig it out of the closet and send it to you tomorrow,” you replied. “Let me know when and where the graduation will be so I can make plans to head down.”

“Splendid,” your mom chirped. “I’m sure everyone will be happy to see you. Get some rest, honey. You sound tired. Love you!”

Without giving you a chance to respond, your mom ended the call. You looked at the screen and rolled your eyes.

She gets what she needs and then she’s gone. Typical.

Knowing you would probably forget to do it later, you wandered over to your spare closet, grabbing the stepladder along the way.

Might as well get this over with.

You climbed up on the ladder and pulled on the chain for the light above your head. You couldn’t stifle the groan from escaping when you spied the piles of plastic containers and boxes on the upper shelf.

Why is my life such a hot mess?

You started pulling down boxes one by one to avoid an accidental avalanche. The collection of dust and crumpled cardboard left you sneezing and gagging on stuffy air and a faint smell of mothballs.

After clearing your throat and taking a sip of water, you looked up and spotted the box you’d been looking for.

Just one more box to move.

The box in question had shifted slightly and was wedged against the ceiling at an odd angle. Try as you might, you couldn’t get it to budge. With a huff of annoyance, you balanced yourself on the top of the stepladder and pushed up to get closer to the box. You heaved your palms against the side of the box and it gave away before you could regain your balance. You crashed into an uncomfortable heap on the floor and whined loudly as you felt the painful throb on your ankle.

After a quick assessment, you discover no other injuries except for a slightly swollen ankle and a sizable knot on the top of your head.

What the hell hit my head?

You glanced around and saw three different boxes scattered around you. One was the memory box you’d been trying to get, one was the previously wedged prisoner box, and the other was completely foreign. You stood up and walked over to lift it from among the clatter on the floor.

This isn’t mine. Is it?

You brushed off the subtle cobwebs and dust and revealed a collection of stickers and decals that were strikingly familiar. Most depicted the many fandoms you followed, but others appeared to be nothing more than artfully scribbled words in elegant script.

Time. Destiny. Passion. Happiness. Faith. Friendship. Love.

You turned the box over in your hands and furrowed your brows quizzically. You didn’t remember ever seeing the box before and it certainly wasn’t there when you originally packed the closet full of your crap.

A loud text message tone pulled you out of your reverie and you abandoned the box on the counter in search of your phone.

Ah yes, we have to keep the tradition going.

Your grandmother and her sentimentality were time consuming, but also adorable. She wanted to stress the importance of education in the family, but also find a way to keep everyone connected from generation to generation. It was her insistence that solidified this current graduation tradition.

You opened the memory box and lifted the neatly folded stole in its plastic bag and the small scrapbook decorated with graduation memorabilia. You took a moment to reminisce about your prior accomplishments and then placed the items on the counter. After cleaning up the mess on the floor and carefully returning everything to the closet, you limped over to the kitchen and poured yourself another glass of water.

On your third gulp, your eyes landed on the mysterious box again. It was no bigger than a shoe box, but was definitely sturdier. Curiosity got the better of you and you inspected it a little more closely.

There was a tarnished metal knob that needed to be turned in order to lift the lid. The glossy surface appeared to be varnished or glazed so that the stickers and words would remain fixed. There was no lock, so you decided to open it.

You didn’t know what to expect when you opened the lid, but it certainly wasn’t what you found.

Laying on top of a folded piece of paper were seven items: a rubber banana keychain, a cute little hamburger toy, a metallic purple kazoo, a gold sequined bow tie on an elastic band, a red beanie dragon plush, a spoon with a floral design, and a thin metal disc with an assortment of holes. You tentatively inspected each item and placed it on the counter.

What the hell is all this?

You lifted the folded paper out of the box and looked underneath. All that was left at the bottom of the box was a quote etched into the surface.

My life and yours are an equal sign, So my remedy is your remedy.

You read the phrase over a few times and couldn’t make sense of it. It seemed familiar, but you couldn’t place it. You turned the folded paper over in your hands a few times and then unfolded it. It’s a fairly large sheet and it resembled parchment. At first glance, the image on the paper looked like an intricate abstract drawing. There were large lines of ink brushed across in elaborate swirls resembling a disjointed heart.

The swirling lines were connected by smudges of charcoal across from blocks of text in colorful ink. There were seven smudges with lines of text to the left of each smudge. You couldn’t make sense of it, but there did seem to be some type of pattern implied. The lines flowed from left to right increasing in width and each successive line grew wider as it progressed to the other side of the page.

You studied the lightest portion of the drawing and read the lines of text next to this first smudge.

Were you wandering around Looking for an erased dream too? It’s different from the typical definition of destiny. Your pained eyes are looking at the same place as me. Won't you please stay in dreams?

The words were certainly poetic, but you didn’t understand their significance. You glanced at the other phrases and they seemed just as cryptic.

What the hell am I looking at? Why would something like this be in my closet?

You were too exhausted to think too much on it, so you shrugged your shoulders and folded the paper and placed it back in the box. You left everything else on the counter and decided that it was time for a shower and then bedtime. As you lay in bed, you exhaled heavily and focused on the hope that tomorrow would be better than today.

March 17th - St. Patrick’s Day - 4:27pm

Oh no...please don’t let her find me in here.

“Ok, no arguments,” Gina chirped in excitement as she pranced through your office door. “It’s time for green beer and dancing!”

Damn, she’s quick!

You lowered your head to your desk and groaned out slightly and silently scolded yourself for not leaving the office earlier to avoid her completely. It was much easier to avoid Gina if you were already out of the office, but once she had you cornered, it was almost impossible to tell her no. She was your favorite faculty member and the only person at work that you would consider hanging out with outside of the university.

Gina had been trying to get you to go out for months, and after a long week of midterm exams, you couldn’t find the energy to counter her offer. Besides, you were now, technically, on Spring Break.

“Come on, girl,” she pleaded. “You know I’m leaving for Acapulco the day after tomorrow with my sisters. If I can get you out of your stuffy apartment and into an Irish bar for a little St. Patty’s Day fun, then I can truly enjoy my vacation. You know how I worry about my work-bestie when I’m not around.”

She pouted at you and batted her long eyelashes, and you almost cackled at her adorable puppy dog look. You half expected her to start whining at you like Oberyn would when he wanted something. Maybe that image in your head that weakened your resolve against her proposal for a St. Patrick’s Day outing.

“Fine,” you acquiesced. “Where are we going, Gina?”

She squealed in excitement and twirled around with glee. You tried to resist the growing enthusiasm, but you quickly gave in with a sigh and a smile.

“Fine. Let me finish up here and we can go to my apartment,” you suggested. “I guess I’ll need you to help me pick out an outfit for tonight.”

Gina nodded happily and ran upstairs to collect her things. Once you finished packing everything away, she was hopping around in anticipation at your office door. Her bunny antics made you giggle.

Such funny friends I have.

March 17th - St. Patrick’s Day - 10:37pm

After a quick dinner of sushi, you were pushing your way through the crowded Irish bar back to the booth where Gina was entertaining her latest acquisition. The guy was certainly handsome, but he only had eyes for Gina. You had another set of drinks for the two of you, but upon discovering the entwined couple making out in the booth, you decided to retreat to give them some privacy.

Typical. She invites me out and then she ditches me for a pretty face.

You wandered back toward the bar and gazed at the writhing mass of bodies under the flashing lights on the dance floor. Desperate to lose yourself in the moment, you downed the two drinks and relished the flavor of Guiness and Bailey’s on your tongue.  If Gina was going to have fun, then so were you. You motioned the bartender over and ordered a Jameson & Ginger Ale.

“A whiskey girl, huh?” exclaimed a sultry voice behind you. “Much better than those Appletini chicks.”

Ah, yes, the pick up line. At least his voice is sexy. Let’s hope the rest of him matches.

You couldn’t decide whether to be amused or annoyed, so you decided to let his face make the decision for you. You turned around prepared to give him your best smirk, but lost your nerve once you saw who it was.

“Jungkook?” you replied in squeak. “What are you doing here?!”

Pure amusement filled his doe eyes and he huffed out a laugh. You were floored that your secret hopes of your mystery man being handsome were completely dashed. In fact, he didn’t just have a sexy voice, he was also drop dead gorgeous. You hadn’t seen Jeon Jungkook in almost 7 years, and he hadn’t aged a day. Back when you were both still working on your undergraduate degrees, you’d been his writing tutor on campus, spending countless hours pouring over research papers and essays that needed serious revision and editing.

So many late nights spent at each other’s apartments, so many long hours in the private study rooms, so many casual touches, missed opportunities, awkward moments, and those long nights alone in your bed where you wished his strong arms were holding you. There was no denying the sexual tension you’d felt back then, and there was certainly no denying it now.

Now, here he was leaning on the bar in his billowy shirt and dark ripped jeans looking like some kind of Greek god holding a glass of bourbon.  You quickly cleared the inebriation out of your brain and tried to appear sober and sane while you smoothed out your ruffled hair.

“So,” Jungkook smirked while pulling you closer. “I’m guessing you weren’t expecting to see me here, huh?”

“Ummm, no,” you admitted sheepishly. “I didn’t even know you were back in town. I haven’t seen you in years. What are you doing here?”

“I just took a job here,” Jungkook stated simply. “Just hanging out with my new coworkers for the night. I saw you and thought I’d say hi, but I wasn’t expecting you to look so enticing though. You’re not here with your boyfriend or husband, are you?”

“Is that your subtle way of asking if I’m still single?” you popped your eyebrow at him. “And enticing, really? Still trying to pick me up, Kookie?”

He smiled a bright bunny grin at his old nickname. You were the only one who would ever call him that and he would never admit just how much he loved it.

“Oh, did you want me to try?,” he continued while reaching up to run his hands up and down your arms. “Hmmmm, where should I begin, babygirl?”

He pulled his lip between his lips and shot you a smoldering look while flipping his hair slightly. You tried to look disinterested, but you lost your composure when he reached up to push a lock up hair behind your ear. Your breath caught in your throat as he moved in between your legs.  

“I mean it, you know?” Jungkook insisted while locking eyes with you. “You still look incredible.”

The bartender returned with your drink at that moment. Thankful for a little distraction, you lifted the glass of liquid courage to your lips. You swallowed a large gulp of swirling heady sweetness and smiled at Jungkook. He was watching you with stars in his eyes and you were enjoying every minute of it.

“So what are you doing these days, Kookie?” you asked, trying to shift his gaze elsewhere. “Are you still playing with your camera and crayons?”

Jungkook laughed and rolled his eyes at your insinuation. As an art major, Jungkook dabbled in several mediums including painting, sculpture, photography, graphic design, and drawing. The boy was insanely talented, so you were actually curious about where he’d ended up career-wise.

“I just took a job at an advertising agency,” he replied with a cocked eyebrow. “And no, I’m not playing with crayons, smartass. I’m their new Assistant Art Director, so I’m mostly working on graphic designs and managing their photography department.”

“Look at you,” you grinned. “Little Kookie all grown up and making big bucks as an actual adult.”

“I was always an adult,” he corrected. “Someone just always chose to treat me like a little kid.”

“Not always,” you shot back. “It’s not my fault you had a tendency to act like an idiot teenager sometimes.”

“Fair point,” he conceded. “But we all have to grow up sometimes, right? Except you, I guess. Looking at you, I could never guess that so much time has passed since I last saw you. You honestly look amazing.”

He leaned in and ran his nose along your neck up to your ear, inhaling deeply as he grazed your skin. He hummed happily as the intoxicating scent of your perfume hit his nostrils.

“You smell amazing too,” he sighed against your ear. “I bet you haven’t thought about me once since I last saw you.”

“Well, that’s a lie,” you smirked. “I’ve thought about you quite a lot actually. You, sir, are one of my big regrets from college.”

“Oh yeah?” Jungkook chuckled lightly while nipping at your earlobe. “Why is that, babygirl?”

You nearly purred at his touch and you hissed lightly when you felt Jungkook’s lips attached themselves to your neck.

“Oh, you’re such a fucking tease, Kookie.” you whined. “How am I supposed to think clearly when you’re doing that?”

“What?” he mused. “I’m not doing anything you don’t want me to, am I?”

You pushed on his chest slightly and he pulled away just enough to rub his nose along your own. You felt his breath ghost across your face and you allowed the smell of bourbon to mix in with his fresh scent.

“Kookie,” you sighed. “How much have you had to drink?”

He wrinkled his brow in confusion and stepped back to look at your face, searching for some explanation for your implied accusation. You weren’t trying to sound like you were chastising him for drinking, but you couldn’t shake the insecurity itching under your skin. It was entirely possible that Jungkook was just feeling a little tipsy from the evening and his familiarity with you was the cause of his brazen behavior. It wouldn’t be the first time, but you weren’t about to let a longtime crush be ruined because of a questionable drunken daze. Jungkook picked up on your train of thought and placed his drink on the bar.  

“I hope you’re not insinuating that I’m only hitting on you because I’ve been drinking,” he scowled. “You should know better than that. I’ve been hitting on you since before I was able to buy my own alcohol, remember?”

“Yeah,” you giggled. “I remember having to sneak you into a few clubs back in the day.”

“Exactly,” he bragged. “So don’t try to make it sound like I’m just some random drunken idiot trying to get into your pants. I’m the same Jungkook who would look down your shirt or pull you into his lap in the hopes of making out with you. I mean, I’m still trying to get into your pants, but at least it’s not something new.”

“Still, huh?” you prompted after downing the rest of your drink. “Well, it’s going to take more than a little flirting to get into my pants, Kookie. You want to dance? I want to see if you still got those sexy moves, Kookie.”

He giggled and then finished his own drink with haste. He grabbed your hand to help you off the barstool and you pulled him toward the chaotic dance floor.

You shook off your previous nerves and worked your way into the pulsating mass of dancers. The music was thumping out a steady bass line and you swayed your hips back and forth to the beat. You weren’t sure if Jungkook noticed your attempt at seduction, but within moments, a pair of strong hands attached themselves to your gyrating hips. Given your vaguely inebriated state, you had no problem relinquishing a little control to your sexy suitor.

You encouraged Jungkook’s boldness by pushing your ass back into his crotch, grinding onto his growing erection. He leaned into your body and pulled you closer.  His lips ghosted a kiss on your exposed shoulder and then nipped at your neck playfully. The pleased sigh that left your lips prompted a dark chuckle from him.

“So naughty,” he murmured into your ear. “If you keep on grinding onto my dick like that, I’ll have to take action, babygirl.”

You leaned your head back onto his shoulder and reached up to grip his wavy hair. He groaned softly as you tugged on the roots and his hips thrusted against your ass. You quickly calculated how long it had been since you’d had sex and decided that it was time to update your calendar.

“Oh yeah?” you taunted. “I’ll accept that challenge.”

You turned in his grasp and locked onto his lips with your own. He hesitated for a moment, but pushed back with his own lips in seconds. They were unbelievably soft and his fervent kisses ignited an inferno in your center. You decided to take it a bit further and you swiped your tongue across the seam of his lips. He moaned slightly in response and dove into your mouth with his own tongue. Once you bit down on his bottom lip, you both decided it was time to move to a more secure location.

He turned away from the crowd and pulled you behind him toward the bar. You both quickly closed out your tabs and made your way to the exit. Once you were both outside, you pounced on him and pushed him into the brick exterior, unable to contain your lust any longer. Jungkook appeared flustered by your eagerness and took a moment to gather his bearings.

“As much I would love to lose myself in this moment,” Jungkook huffed while pulling away from your hungry lips. “Maybe we should decide on a place with softer surfaces.”

You glanced at the vacant alleyway next to you and the brightly lit city street and frowned.

“Sorry,” you apologized. “Kinda forgot where I was for a second there.”

“Really?” Jungkook grinned and kissed your forehead. “You could’ve fooled me.”

“Let me call an Uber,” you volunteered. “My place isn’t too far from here.”

Once you were both in the Uber, you couldn’t stop touching and smiling at each other. The driver commented on the “happy couple,” and you didn’t have to heart to correct the old man.

Once you were both inside your apartment, Jungkook pushed you against your front door and started nipping lazily along your jaw.

Jungkook stroked his thumbs along your sides and leaned in to kiss your flushed cheeks. You sighed happily in response and ran your hands up his firm chest and rested them on his shoulders.

“Jungkook,” you began. “I didn’t think I’d ever run into you again. I haven’t seen you since my undergraduate graduation party.”

“I tried to see more of you that night,” Jungkook admitted while stroking your hair. “But someone disappeared in the middle of the party with their friend, Jimin.”

You flushed further at his words, remembering that night a little more clearly now that he’d brought it up. You and your former friend with benefits had indeed disappeared that night to have a little undergraduate graduation celebration of your own. By the time the two of you rejoined the party, Jungkook was long gone.

“Sorry about that,” you muttered. “I honestly didn’t think you’d be interested. You always had so many girls pining for you, I never thought you’d give me a second glance.”

“Are you kidding?” Jungkook scoffed. “I’ve wanted you since our first tutoring session. I could barely concentrate with you wearing that tank top and those little shorts. What kind of tutor shows up wearing something like that?”

“It was summer,” you countered. “It was over 100 degrees. What was I supposed to wear? A parka?”

You both giggled at that, and it broke the tension that was building since you recognized him. Feeling encouraged, you started lightly scratching his shoulders and chest, noting the stiff pebbles you grazed down the front of his shirt.

“So what now?” you asked. “Do we just keep reminiscing about old times until the sun comes up?”

You gently popped the top button from his shirt to reveal more of his deliciously tanned skin. Jungkook bit his lip and lifted an eyebrow suggestively.

“I think we’ve talked enough,” he grinned wickedly. “There are better ways to spend our time.”

Your eyes locked and you could almost feel the searing arousal growing between you. You gently pushed him away from you and then started walking toward your bedroom, tossing your shoes aside along the way. At the edge of the living room, you lifted your dress over your head and tossed it on the couch. Jungkook smirked and continued to unbutton his shirt while walking toward you. His taut muscles caused your thighs to clench in anticipation.

“Are you enjoying the view, baby?” Jungkook purred while looking you up and down. “I know I am.”

He unbuckled his belt and tugged at the buttons on his jeans. You stepped forward to help him, but got too caught up in touching his bare skin to be of any use. You pulled Jungkook’s lips to your own just as he leaned forward to pull his pants down. He was caught off balance, but quickly recovered after using his feet to pull the troublesome fabric from his legs.

After flinging his shirt behind him, you were both left in your underwear and no inch of exposed skin was left unexplored. Your dominant personalities were at war as you made your way down the hallway, and the aggression became tangible, especially after you practically slammed his back into the wall by your bedroom door. Jungkook squealed happily when you started climbing onto his chest and he reached down and pulled your legs up and around his waist.

Even though his hands were already busy holding you up, he still managed to slip a few fingers in between your legs from behind. The soaked fabric of your underwear pulled a sultry groan from his kiss bitten lips.

“Holy shit, baby,” he said in a breathy tone. “You’re so fucking wet already.”

You moaned softly into his ear as he trailed your arousal back and forth across your slit. He walked across the threshold of your bedroom door and sat down on the bed. You quickly pushed him on his back, but he sat back up and tried to still your frantic hands.

“Baby, baby,” he implored. “You can slow down a bit. I’m not going anywhere.”

“But,” you pouted. “You have no idea how many times I fantasized about this. I’m just excited that it’s actually happening.”

He reached up with one hand and unsnapped your bra with unbelievable precision. He smirked at your awed expression, tossed your bra to the floor, and then leaned up to kiss you sweetly.

“I feel the same way,” he confessed. “I just want to take my time with this. There’s no rush.”

Jungkook continued kissing along your jawline and proceeded to your neck. He pulled on your nipples slightly and then slipped his fingers around your waist to toy with the band of your underwear. You took a deep breath and smiled. Maybe you were a little eager, but it wasn’t often that a legit snack was delivered unto you by the Universe. The restraint was a real struggle.

Jungkook nipped at a sweet spot just below your ear and you hissed and clutched desperately at his back in response.

“Kookie,” you whined. “Don’t tease me.”

“Oh yeah?” he chuckled darkly. “I’d say you deserve a little payback for all the times you teased me, don’t you think?”

“What?” you scoffed. “When?”

Jungkook turned and tossed you onto the bed. He reached up and pulled your hands above your head and held them in place with one hand.

“Every time I saw you,” he reiterated while kissing down your chest. “Your flirty smiles, your sexy winks, your playful jokes, you sat in my lap on more than one occasion when we cuddled on the couch.”

“You never reacted to any of that,” you breathed out in a gasp. “I just assumed you wanted to be friends.”

“I didn’t want to assume anything either,” he admitted. “But I definitely wanted to be more than just friends.”

He leaned in and pulled you into another intoxicating kiss, and you leaned forward to slip your tongue into his mouth, needing to satiate your overwhelming lust. He pushed his own tongue against yours and then pulled away from your lips completely.

He smirked at your needy whine and trailed his free hand across your cheeks then down onto your breast. He leaned in to capture one nipple with his lips and stimulate the other with his fingers. You writhed in desperation, but he only hummed in response.

“Something wrong, babygirl?” He mused. “You seem a little agitated.”

“Gee,” you huffed. “I wonder why.”

Pure amusement played across Jungkook’s beautiful face as he released one nipple from his mouth with a loud popping sound. He licked the valley between your breasts and shifted his body between your legs. You could feel his thick clothed erection brushing across the top of your thighs. He leaned up to kiss your lips and lingered for a moment before releasing your hands.

“Keep your hands where they are, babygirl,” he instructed. “Don’t move them until I tell you to, ok?”

“What happens if I move them?” you challenged. “Will I get in trouble, Kookie?”

“Oh yeah,” he glared. “Big trouble.”

To send his comment further into your mind, Jungkook rubbed his girthy length gently across your clit and grinned wickedly as you moaned wantonly in response. He placed another kiss on your lips and began crawling down your torso. You released a flustered exhale and wiggled your hips beneath him in anticipation.

His hands continued to explore as he kissed a trail down your body. Jungkook paused and adjusted his position when he reached your dripping center. He nuzzled his nose into the thin fabric of your panties and gave the wet spot he found a lick.

Your hips tried to snap forward with the sensation, but Jungkook held you firmly in place. He slid your underwear down your legs and flung them on the floor with the other discarded articles of clothing. He then situated himself firmly between your legs and slid his strong arms under your thighs.

Intent on prolonging his sensual torture, Jungkook ran his tongue delicately along your juicy folds and the blew a cool stream of air onto your exposed nub. The sensation triggered a shiver to erupt across your skin, and you latched onto the pillow above you to anchor your hands in place. Before you could unleash another whine of displeasure, Jungkook dipped the tip of his tongue into your dripping center and swirled it to collect your juices. He released a satisfied hum when he swallowed and got his first real taste of you

“Oh, fuck me,” Jungkook groaned into your upper thigh. “Your pussy is delicious, baby. I may be down here for a while. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Ah,” you squeaked as he licked another stripe through your folds. “Go right ahead, Kookie. I won’t stop you.”

Jungkook nearly growled as he dove into your sopping wet slit, slurping up every drop of slick he could find. You moaned and twitched uncontrollably and he sent you into a tempest of pure pleasure. Every flick of his tongue, every bit of suction against your clit, and every grasp of Jungkook’s hands on your skin jolted your nerve endings into a full blown orgasm careening from your center and spreading all the way across your extremities. He was certainly taking his sweet time and enjoying every minute of it.

Once the climax shifted into overstimulation, you reached down and pulled on Jungkook’s hair and begged him to stop. The little bunny grin he flashed you was completely at odds with the sinful actions of his fingers in between your legs. He planted one last lingering kiss on your throbbing bundle of nerves and crawled off the bed.

You were about to protest his absence from the bed, but then he left you slack jawed when he pulled his boxer briefs off and kicked them aside. The sight of his quivering length made your mouth water, even more so when he gave it a few purposeful strokes. The swollen pink tip was already weeping with precum and you licked your lips, wondering about the taste.

“Ah, you can’t do that to me,” Jungkook blushed. “You’re looking at me like you want to eat me up.”

“Maybe I do,” you teased. “Can you blame me when you’re looking so damn tasty?”

Jungkook chuckled wickedly as he mounted the bed again and hovered over your tantalizing naked figure. He licked his lips, still tasting your essence on his tongue, and raked his eyes up and down your body.

“Are you ready for me, babygirl?” he mused. “Do you think you can take all of me?”

Glancing down at his sizable girth, you popped an eyebrow and tilted your head pensively. You reached over to your side table and opened a drawer to pull out a condom, handing it to Jungkook with a smile.

That’s a damn good question. Can I?

“I guess it’s time to find out,” you teased. “How long are you going to keep me waiting, Kookie?”

That was all the encouragement Jungkook needed to act upon his voracious hunger. He quickly rolled the condom onto his dick and leaned forward to give you a passionate kiss. He released your swollen lips and you gasped as you felt him rubbing his tip along your damp slit.

“I’ve been waiting for this for so long,” Jungkook murmured. “Just know that you’re in for a long night, baby. I’m not going to stop until we’ve made up for all that time we lost.”

With that being said, Jungkook plunged his throbbing cock into you and released a ravenous groan above you. You both remained still for a few moments and you squirmed in his hold hoping to increase the friction you craved. After the tension in Jungkook’s shoulders subsided, his hips burrowed deeper and deeper into your soaking heat. He relished the deluge of your juices dampening his thighs, the melodic moans of his name you uttered over and over again, and most of all, the profound elation of finally reaching the state of euphoria he’d been dreaming about since you were both in college.

The night raged on with your ardent love-making, and after hours of unbridled bliss, you were sprawled across Jungkook’s chest, buzzing with contentment. Both of your glistening chests heaved from exertion, but the fucked out looks on your faces didn’t reveal any hints of exhaustion.

“That was unbelievable, Kookie,” you panted. “Why didn’t we do that sooner?”

“Because we were both idiots?” Jungkook suggested. “Whatever it was, I’m glad we finally found the time to do it.”

He kissed the top of your head and smacked your ass playfully. You hissed at the contact and pursed your lips at him in a pout. He giggled at your cuteness and wrapped his arms around you.

“What was that for?” you whined. “You’re so mean, Kookie.”

“Hey,” he protested hotly. “I told you to keep your hands in place earlier, but you just had to pull on my hair. I owed you at least one good spank.”

“I think you spanked me enough tonight,” you replied cheekily. “Among other things.”

You both smiled at each other as you replayed the events of the evening in your minds. You leaned over to pull him into another lingering kiss. He chuckled and stopped you from deepening the kiss.

“We should probably clean up,” he argued. “We are a hot steaming mess right now.”

“Speak for yourself,” you shot back. “I’m not a mess.”

He lifted his eyebrows and then reached between your legs to drag his fingers across the stickiness clinging to your legs. You mewled in protest and shot him a dirty look for calling you out.

“Ok, fine,” you agreed. “I’m a mess, but so are you. How about a shower before I change the sheets?”

He nodded in agreement and helped you off the bed and into the bathroom. Your legs were still a little wobbly after so much physical activity.

It’s been a while since I put my thighs to good use.

The intimacy carried on in the shower, but neither of you had enough energy to initiate another round of passion. The most you were able to do was kiss each other lazily after helping each other clean up. After the shower, Jungkook was an absolute gentleman and helped you change your sheets.

“You don’t have to leave, you know,” you suggested. “You could just stay. It’s after 5am anyway.”

“I know,” he replied coolly while buttoning his shirt. “But I’m not really in the habit of staying the night.”

“Oh, really?” you teased while popping an eyebrow. “Then can I get you a drink before you leave?”

Jungkook smiled at your hospitality and nodded in response. You were quick to get him a glass of cold water and set it on the counter. A now fully dressed Jungkook walked over and pulled you into another kiss before grabbing the glass and taking a drink. You nuzzled against his chest and sighed. Jungkook set the glass aside, wrapped his arms around you, and kissed the top of your head sweetly.

“Hey,” he exclaimed suddenly. “Where did you find that?”

He reached over and picked up the banana keychain still sitting on your counter. You totally forgot about the small collection of random objects you found in the closet, but now that Jungkook was examining the keychain, your thoughts revisited the mysterious items once again.

“It was in a box I found in my closet,” you confirmed. “Why? Do you recognize that keychain?”

“Of course I do,” Jungkook murmured. “It’s mine, and it isn’t just a keychain, it’s a USB drive.”

He pulled the banana apart at the center and it revealed a USB connector bearing the lettering 512GB. Your jaw dropped at the sudden revelation.

“What the-” you queried. “Why would I have it?”

“Maybe I left it at your place or something?” Jungkook said. “But the point is, I looked everywhere for this thing. I have so many layouts and artwork on here, and this will be incredibly useful at my new job. You are literally saving me weeks of work with this thing.”

“You’re asking me to just give you this flash drive that I found in my apartment mixed in with my stuff?” you reasoned. “How do I know this is actually yours?”

“Because I recognized it,” Jungkook argued. “And I also knew what it was. You obviously didn’t.”

“Hmmmm,” you mused. “I don’t know. What’ll you give me in return?”

Jungkook patted himself down and reached into his pants pocket to pull out a green shamrock on a beaded necklace with the word “Lucky” emblazoned across the front. The look on his face gave off the impression that he was confused, but then it transformed into amusement. He grinned and flipped a switch on the button, causing it to erupt into a barrage of green LED lights.

“I will give you this limited edition, LED powered four leaf clover necklace,” Jungkook proposed. “It’s the perfect good luck charm, and so much better than a horseshoe or a rabbit’s foot. What do you say?”

You eyed the glowing button and burst into a giggle fit. Jungkook was presenting it to you as though it were some kind of grand prize on a game show.

“Where did you even get that?” you asked. “Do you just hide random holiday necklaces in your pants?”

“No,” Jungkook chuckled. “They gave it to me at the bar. I almost left it on the table, but I couldn’t put it down. When I saw you by the bartender, I guess I just put it in my pocket. It’s weird, I usually don’t keep stuff like this. But it’s yours, if you want it.”

“Well,” you grinned. “With a sales pitch like that, how can I resist?”

He joyfully handed you the flashy plastic bauble and pressed another delightful kiss on your lips. You set the shamrock necklace aside on the counter and wrapped your arms around Jungkook’s neck to continue pressing sweet kisses on his soft pink lips. Before things got too heated again, Jungkook pulled away and kissed your forehead. He exhaled a deep breath as you buried your face into his firm chest.

The night had been phenomenal and this thing between you and Jungkook was heating up so well. Maybe there was a possibility for more than just a one night stand? It was a risky proposal to bring up, but your history with Jungkook gave you a sliver of hope.

“So when do I get to see you again, Kookie?” you breathed out while looking up at him. “Now that you’re in town again, maybe we can see each other more often?”

“Uh, well,” Jungkook sighed nervously. “I’m not sure. I just started the job and I’m going to be pretty busy, so I’ll have to let you know.”

“Oh,” you replied while gently releasing your hold on him. “That’s fine, whatever.”

“Hey,” he began while pulling you back into his embrace. “It’s not what you’re thinking. I had an amazing time with you tonight, but I’m not sure I can give anything more than something casual. I wish I could give you more than that, but I’m not really in a good place for anything serious right now.”

You pouted slightly and nodded your head in understanding. Having been in that exact same head space before, you could understand his apprehension. There were easily five years between you and Jungkook, so it was natural that you would be at different places in your life. It would be unfair to expect more of him if he wasn’t ready for it yet.

“I understand,” you murmured knowingly. “I don’t want you to feel obligated or anything like that.”

“I’m sorry I can’t offer you more than that,” he admitted. “Believe me. If ever I’m ready for something long-term, I’m going to be looking for you.”

“If I’m still available,” you mocked him playfully. “You never know. Some other gorgeous man might snap me up before then.”

“Well,” he growled while sinking his hand into your hair. “If that’s the case, then he better be ten times better than me and willing to give you the world on a silver platter. You shouldn’t settle for anything less, babygirl. You deserve to be treated like the goddess you are.”

You rolled your eyes at him and pursed your lips. He shot you an adorable bunny smile and eagerly kissed your lips once again. He took a moment to brush his thumbs across the apples of your cheeks and then shook his head with a goofy smile.

“Ah, I better go,” he announced in a huff. “If I spend any more time here, I’ll never leave.”

“That isn’t necessarily a bad thing,” you shot back teasingly. “I’d definitely make it worth your while.”

“I know you would,” he snickered. “But I really do have a lot of work to do. I’m going to need the rest of the day to recover from tonight before I have to be at work on Monday. Someone gave me a hell of a workout.”

You winked at him and leaned up to kiss him once more before he pulled away toward the front door. You shared one last hug and kiss at the open door after exchanging phone numbers.

“Thank you again for giving this USB back to me.” he expressed with gratitude. “You have no idea how much time you’re going to save me. I’ll try to call you later this week. Maybe we can meet up and do something, if you’re not busy?”

“We’ll see,” you smirked. “I’ll let you know.”

Jungkook flicked your chin and shot you an impish grin. You watched him disappear behind the elevator doors before closing the door to your apartment. Once you were back in your kitchen, you sipped at the water you’d poured for Jungkook and looked at the scattered items on the counter. The absence of the banana keychain was noted, but the glowing shamrock was a welcome replacement. You decided to send Gina a little update before you went to bed.

You put your phone on the counter and let out a loud yawn, the evening and all of its activities finally catching up with you. The mess on the counter annoyed you, so you placed everything back in the box on top of the paper map and switched off the lights.

“I’ll take another look at this tomorrow,” you yawned. “Time for sleep.”

As you walked back to your room, you turned off all the lights and got settled into your comfy bed with fresh sheets. There was still a faint scent of Jungkook floating in the air and it calmed your senses. You started drifting off to Dreamland with visions of Jungkook prancing across your brain.

At least I can stop wondering about Jungkook and what might have been. I’d been obsessing over that for so long. Now, I can move on if I need to.

Reassuring visions danced across your brain and all of them resembled Jungkook. He kept tossing four leaf clovers at your feet, and you giggled in your sleep as he continued showering you in lucky charms.

Jungkook made a good point. Four leaf clovers were much better than other good luck charms. Your bunny boy bestowed a bounty of luck upon you, all while blessing you with a rabbit’s foot of his own.

Well maybe a few inches less than a foot, but size isn’t everything.

With a smile on your face and your heart full of possibilities, you coasted on fumes to the final mile into a deep sleep, knowing that tomorrow would be brighter without the added weight of your past insecurities pulling at your nerves.

It’s funny. I almost feel like I’ve regained something I didn’t know was missing. Maybe Oberyn is on to something after all. The Universe definitely makes more sense than it did yesterday.

That couldn’t just be a coincidence.

Could it?

Your mind continued its existential ramblings throughout the wonders of Dreamland, and in your kitchen, something inexplicable was happening. Only Oberyn was awake to witness the subtle purple glow and sparkle emanating from the counter top. It was over in a flash, but Oberyn still sniffed at the air in the kitchen trying to locate the origin of the unexplained phenomenon.

NEXT:

Chapter Two: Soulmates are a Forever Kind of Thing

MAP OF THE SOUL MASTERLIST

@caught-in-a-seesaw-stigma​‘s MASTERLIST

[thegremlinofransei]

Welcome to the Family | Ch. 2

Resident Evil 7 AU

Fandom: Split, Glass

Rating: M (strong language, violence)

Word Count: ~2.3K

Summary: It’s been three years since Kevin disappeared. However, Casey tracks him to an abandoned farmhouse in Louisiana–the site of a recorded murder–and vows to find him. Little does she anticipate the horrors that await…

—————————–

Casey slowly staggered back into a crouching position, careful not hit her head on the coffee table. Eyeing up the ominous hearth on the nearby wall, she took a deep breath and shuffled over to it. With an outstretched arm, she felt her way around the top of the fireplace until her hand ran across a chilled metal handle, and she pulled downward.

Chink-chink-chink-chink-creeeaaaak

The hidden door, which had blended in with the wainscoting around the room up until now, cracked inward slightly, revealing the way that the men in the video had taken. Casey shuffled over to it, every cell in her brain screaming that it was a bad idea, but her body had taken control now. I can’t escape anyway, she reminded herself, so the only way to go is down.

Upon entering the small room on the other side, she stood up, grateful to stretch her legs. The room was still in as bad of shape as it was in the video and, to both Casey’s excitement and dismay, the ladder still plunged into the dilapidated abyss. She crept over to it, turned herself around, and began her descent into hell, tucking her flashlight into the front of her bra strap.

About six rungs down, however, the rotten wood snapped in her right hand. She hung onto the ladder with her left hand and foot before bringing her right back to the ring below, but her weight was too much for the ring to bear. It broke apart in Casey’s hands, and she plummeted to the ground below, watching fifteen more rotted rungs fly before her eyes. With a hard landing on her back, she felt the air forcefully escape her lungs, which could only be vocalized with a small whimper.

After taking a breath, Casey grunted a small “Dammit” before gingerly rolling over and steadying herself back to her feet. She stepped over to her flashlight, which had clattered near the brick wall, and scooped it up. The room she now stood in was a dank dungeon, and she shined her light to the pipes on the other wall. At least they disposed of the bodies, she thought with a dry humor.

Just to the left of the pipes was an entryway. The same entryway that the person with the workboots had come through before the video cut out. Casey rounded the corner into a foreboding hallway lit only by a caged lightbulb that declined into a pit, washed out by the bayou. She was unnerved by the prospect of trudging through the likely diseased and leech-infested water, but she knew she was without choice. Besides, she jested to herself, it can’t be worse than having my face smashed into a pipe.

She soldiered onward and scooted herself into the neck-deep water, shivering as her body heat transferred to it. Narrow fluorescent lights rounded a corner and made a discernible path for Casey to follow. Immediately around the corner, she came to a rafter and had to crouch slightly. She shuddered as she lowered all but her face into the grimy water and quickly stood back up as soon as her head was clear.

Casey rounded another corner, and another dim hallway on dry land came into sight beyond the next rafter. She hastened her pace the best she could and resumed her stances from the prior rafter. 

As she crept through, something popped out of the water just two inches from her face, and she reeled back, now fully submerged in the water. The grime burned her eyes and throat, and after regaining her balance, she stood back up and stared at what had startled her.

Bobbing in front of her was Jai’s head, half-rotted and covered in maggots, severed brutally and still gouged through. Casey heaved at the sight, thankful to rid herself of any water she swallowed and horrified yet again by this nightmarish journey. She sloshed water around her slightly to bob the gruesome decapitation away from her, finished her amble under the rafter, and edged along the wall to avoid any more surprises.

Upon reaching dry land, Casey wrung out her hair and waved her t-shirt against her body. She dropped the turgid flashlight to the ground, praying that more of the halls would be lit up as it clattered to her side. Removing her shoes, she poured water out of them and wrung out her socks before putting them back on and continuing on to the heavy wooden door in front of her.

It was unlocked and gave way with a quick shove. On the other side was a true dungeon, grimly adorned by brick support columns and wrought-iron cages. Casey’s heart raced at record-breaking speed as she pushed forth. Every part of her shook from the combined chill that the evaporating water instilled in her and the terrifying thoughts of what could possibly be happening here.

She spun around as the door slammed shut behind her. Of course this is a fucking trap, she told herself drearily. The backpack, the windows, the tape, the ladder, the head… Her head was swarming, but she was desperate to escape, and her only hope was to venture further into the clutches of whomever was keeping her here.

An incandescent lightbulb flickered brightly from the ceiling about midway through the dungeon, casting an eerie glow onto a slab of wood covered in drawings. Casey turned back around to examine this mural, first noticing a stick figure family doodled in red. A father and mother stood together at the top of the slab, while two- no, three- smaller figures were positioned further down. A son, a daughter, and a cryptic dwarf with a darkened face.

To the right was a spiral of I’m sorry. over and over again, descending to the center until the messy script became illegible and took the vague shape of an eye, which glowered into Casey’s soul as she tried to choke back tears at the haunting message. She stepped away from the slab and rounded another corner.

Light.

A golden glow filtered through a cage at the end of this hall. Casey hurried toward it and was left incredulous by the sight on the other side. A broad, muscular form sprawled on a filthy mattress in the back corner. His head angled slightly toward the back wall, his right arm rested over his chest, which slowly rose and fell. Donned in a grungy white t-shirt and torn, loose-fitting jeans, a mop of brown hair laying unkempt over his face.

“Kevin!” Casey gasped, joy flooding through her veins for the first time in this shithole. She didn’t expect him to actually be here, and alive, after viewing the disheartening video tape. Oh my God, she thought with relief, he’s actually here. I’m trapped and there’s death everywhere, but…he’s fine. 

She didn’t even try to hold back her tears now. Letting the floodgates open, she resolved herself to get herself and her long-lost boyfriend out of that godforsaken house.

A chain was wrapped around the cage door’s handle, and Casey searched frantically for something to remove it with. To her left was the entryway to a small workshop lit by a fluorescent light tube, which she entered and did a once-over of.

The first thing she noticed was a small sheet of paper with writing laying on the workbench. Casey approached the document and read it. A list of names on the left, and the words Dead and Turned directly across from each. Three entries in particular stood out to her as she looked on in horror.

Joseph - Dead

Jai - Dead

Fletcher - L

Casey swore to herself that the minute she and Kevin left, she would find a payphone and call the cops on whatever malevolent bastard inhabited this seventh circle. Turning the paper over, she was disturbed further by the top entry, lacking a word to its right.

Kevin

Couple of fighters, aren’t we? Casey remarked mentally as she wiped the tears from her eyes. A gleam to her right ripped her attention away from the list, and she saw her ace in the hole. A brand new pair of bolt cutters. She reached for the clunky tool, nearly the length of her arm, and pulled it toward her as she pivoted back to the doorway.

Casey rushed to the cage door and forced the heavy handles open. Lining up the jaws of the cutters around the chain, she mustered her strength and heaved them shut. They firmly bit down on the thin chain, and with a few more seconds of pressure, her obstacle snapped and clattered to the stone floor. She threw open the door and practically sprinted across the cell to Kevin’s bedside.

“Kevin?” Casey squeaked out, shaking the man’s shoulder and attempting a brave face. “Oh my God…Kevin, it’s me! It’s Casey!”

“Casey,” he exhaled in a raspy voice as his eyes drifted open. Upon seeing the face for this name, his gaze widened and he pushed himself up to a sitting position. “Casey?” he asked his expression filled with anxiety and disbelief.

“Oh my God, babe,” she sighed, wrapping her arms around his neck in a hug. “I’m so glad you’re still alright.”

He swung his legs around to the edge of the bed and hastily shoved her away. Casey, alarmed by how cold his demeanor had turned in a split second, stared into his fearful ocean eyes. After a few heaving breaths, Kevin finally exclaimed, his voice pitched up by terror, “You shouldn’t be here!”

“What do you mean?” Casey asked, her eyes welling up. “You messaged me!”

“No! I wouldn’t!” Kevin bolted up from his seat, then sat back down as his voice gained a layer of delirium. “Did I?”

A lightning bolt of fear flashed across his face as he stood up. Gripping Casey’s shoulders and gazing into her eyes, he inquired hurriedly, “Did anyone see you? Did HE see you?”

“He?” she repeated back to him as he looked out of the cell. Her heart dropped into her stomach as she realized how fucked they were if Kevin, strong and intelligent Kevin, was scared witless of whomever had lured her here.

“Dad is coming.” he told her as he snatched her wrist and pulled her along. “We need to go!”

“Dad?”

Instead of an explanation, he only repeated with a slight crescendo, “We need to go NOW!”

Kevin ventured out into the workshop and ran across the room to a narrow passage with Casey in tow. Before proceeding, however, she pulled back, bringing his face to hers as she rested a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“What the hell is going on? Baby…you’ve been gone for three years,” she murmured.

This only distressed him more. “Has…has it really been three years?” This was punctuated by a shake of his head as he stepped away from Casey and continued on through the passage.

They journeyed onward, and they reached a doorway that was blocked by a rack of metal shelves, and Casey stopped Kevin before he attempted to squeeze through the opening between the rack and the wall.

“You need to tell me what’s going-”

“I don’t fucking know, Casey!” Kevin snapped, tears forming in his eyes. “I didn’t send you that damn message, all I know is the family brought food through here. Just…” He sighed with dejection. “Let’s go.”

Kevin’s eyes lit up as they squeezed through to the other side and a wooden door came into sight. He pushed it open, and they entered into a cellar furnished only by a metal cart and a sofa.

Kevin sprinted to the opposite wall. “What the…there was a door here. It’s gone!” His frenzied breathing calmed as he turned around and gazed to a confused Casey. “Babe,” he whispered staggering to the sofa, “we can be a family now.”

Casey was freaked out by this display, and choked out, “I’ll look through the storage closet,” gesturing to a small room off to the side.

The closet circled around a set of shelves decorated by nondescript crates and a single doll. Casey lifted the doll from its shelf and examined it. It was the size of her hand and plastic, portraying a redheaded, freckled little boy wearing a blue and yellow tracksuit.

Crash! “Let me go, you fucking bastard!”

Casey dropped the doll and ran back out to the main room. Kevin was nowhere to be seen, and a giant doorway now stood in the wall that he had so anxiously scoured earlier. She crept to the doorway and peered through, finding a concrete staircase just to her left. Starting her ascent back to what she hoped could be called the real world, she found the door at the top of the stairs cracked slightly open.

It opened into yet another long hallway, but at least this one looked like something one could find in a normal home. The windows along the opposite wall were boarded up, but Casey could hear the rumbling thunder and pouring rain on the other side. A dresser with a landline phone sat beneath the nearest window, and for a moment she was hopeful again that she could get herself and Kevin out of this prison. That was, until she picked up the handset and heard a series of damning beeps.

Casey slammed it back down and continued on. The next door she came to was a decrepit bathroom. A few palm-sized plastic bottles of antibiotic ointment sat by the sink, and she picked them up and shoved them into her belt loops, now dry enough to carry them without slipping.

Bambambambambambambam!

The knocking came from back down the hallway.

Casey hurried out of the bathroom and back down the hallway, finding the door to the stairs shut. The raucous noise ended shortly and was punctuated by the dragging of metal against concrete.

Casey lightly shoved the door open and cautiously inched down the first two steps, breathing in unison with a raspier, more primal breath from below.

———————

A/N: Yeah yeah yeah, the format is slightly different, blah blah blah. But look at that beautiful Read More cut! Only took an hour of HTML on mobile XD Also sorry for the cliffhanger If you came for the violence, I promise that starts in the next chapter, mwahaha 😈 Again, just ask if you want to be tagged!

Tag List

@lady-serenitty

@martina-leanza

[imaginetonyandbucky]

Dream a Little Dream of Me Ch2/4

A week later, I get a rare day to myself in the Tower. The team is attending some charity gala in New Jersey and I am more than happy to pass up on that one. Steve’s utterly disappointed face almost made me reconsider but Stark just casually grabbed the supersoldier and dragged him away.

“Keep this sad puppy look for the gala, Cap. The charity will score big numbers if you use it right.”

Steve stuttered all the way out of the common room but thankfully didn’t broach the subject since then.

Gotta thank the engineer for the subtle intervention. If I get a chance, because obviously meeting the man is as difficult for the Avengers as it is for a regular member of the public. Unless a man is brave enough to venture into the workshop so yeah, I’m okay to admit cowardice. The thought of a room entirely made of unknown devices is less than inviting and it makes meeting Stark almost impossible. With the exception of chance morning meetings in the kitchen and even those are now rare.

Either way, I’ve been looking forward to this day. Just one day and night to spend all alone in the Tower, no Avengers to encounter, no uncomfortable situations to endure…no need to be on guard with myself around the others. I wanna enjoy that while it lasts.

“JARVIS?”

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?”

“Would ya mind…not talkin’ to me today? Unless it’s an emergency of course,” I immediately add and find myself fidgeting on the spot.

“I understand, Sergeant, I shall not disturb you unless necessary. In the future you can simply say the command ‘mute’ for the same and immediate effect.”

I cringe at the suggestion and look up. “I think I prefer askin’ rather than commandin’. But thanks.”

“No problem, Sergeant. Enjoy your day,” he wishes and goes into silent mode.

(Read-more ahead!)

I sprawl on the huge sofa – something I’ve wanted to do for a while, but it’s usually overcrowded. Well, two other people and I’m already thinkin’ overcrowded.

But this time there’s absolutely nobody around so I can just drop onto the soft cushions and do something I haven’t done since the forties.

Relax.

First I watch some random documentary channel on the TV, then find a weird comedy movie about things coming back to life at night in a museum and I figure why the hell not watch that too - surprisingly until the end, even catching myself breaking into a smile couple of times.

After noon I clear out the fridge of all the leftovers from last night’s all-you-can-eat pizza buffet and then fetch a detective novel from the barely used library and read it until the sun all but settles behind New York’s skyline.

Even though I didn’t do anything the entire day I still somehow manage to doze off on the really comfy couch - and once again fall into the scary depths of my blank mind.

Only this time it’s scarier than ever before.

I jolt awake hours later, everything around me covered in darkness of the night and only then I realize that what I’ve been looking forward to the entire week is in fact something I should have dreaded instead.

I’m all alone here.

Abandoned in the cold and the dark and the Tower as empty as the dreams. I might as well be back in a HYDRA cell, locked up in the freezing cryo pod with only my brainwashed vacant mind keeping me company, not even dreams to occupy it. Only now, with everyone gone it dawns on me just how terrified that makes me feel.

I might have complained about being crowded by the others, but their presence is reassuring. And their lack of presence sends me on the verge of panic.

“Sergeant Barnes?” Jarvis’s voice makes me jump from the couch and three feet into the air but it’s nothing compared to what it does to the person that just entered the common floor’s living room. It jumps just as high and backs into the wall with an audible thud.

“Sweet motherfucking Jesus in a baby fucking manger! What the fuck?! Fuck!” comes the litany of unsavory curses from the person my still panicking brain registers as Stark, now leaning against the wall with eyes wide and a hand protectively sprawled across his chest. He must have returned from the gala recently because he’s still wearing the tux pants and shirt, just lost the jacket and bowtie somewhere. “Barnes?! The…the fuck are you lurking in the dark here for?!” he blurts out between heavy breaths.

Something finally clicks back together in my head and it makes me go from panicky and scared to annoyed in a second. “What are you lurking in here for?! I thought…thought you were at the gala,” I finish more softly, seeing that the engineer is about as close to a panic attack as I’ve been moments ago.

Stark stares me down almost as if he was making sure it is me he’s really seeing before he slumps a bit, swallowing on air. “Right…forgot you stayed here today…,” he mumbles to himself.

JARVIS brings the lights slowly back up without a word and I can finally, truly inspect the unexpected visitor. One look is quite enough to see the damage.

The disheveled look isn’t new - that’s what he looks like every time he emerges from the workshop, but the ashen-white face only marred by the pitch black circles under his eyes and streamlines of dried tears is new. I thought I knew the definition of dead tired, but it’s apparently staring me in the face right now.

“When was the last time you slept?!” I ask and before I can think about it I reach for the other man’s face to take a better look. I catch the spark of utter horror in Stark’s eyes just in time to freeze on the spot, the hand awkwardly hanging in the air until I slowly retract it.

And suddenly everything about the engineer’s strange behavior makes perfect sense to me. Looks like we might have more in common than I thought.

I take a step back, leaving plenty of space between us and raise both hands in a defensive gesture. Not a single move escapes Stark’s wide, scanning eyes. “S’rry,” I apologize, voice low.

The expressive wild brown eyes snap to my cold gray ones and I can safely say I’ve never seen anyone looking so…lost.

Stark breaks the eye contact and raggedly shakes his head. When he glances back my way his usual collected façade is back. “Forget it. You just…scared me shitless. Thanks for the heads up, Jay, you’re a real bro,” he frowns at the ceiling.

“My apologies, Sir, but if I was to follow the Tiptoe protocols I couldn’t have done more,” the AI replies quietly and this time it’s me frowning at the omnipresent voice.

Tiptoe what?

“Oh…nevermind then. I was on my way to the…uh,” he looks around, still frowning, “…the workshop.”

“You sleep in the workshop?” I blurt out, unimpressed by Stark’s obvious evasive lie.

“I sleep wherever the hell I want! What are you, the new sleeping habits inspector? Did Rogers resign?”

I’m taken aback by the outburst for a second, but since I’ve been the one trying to avoid the topic of sleep for as long as I’ve been in the Tower, I can see through Stark’s abrasiveness like it was a crystal clear window. “Maybe,” I fold my arms and raise a challenging eyebrow – a look I’ve given one skinny little blonde kid many times back in the days. “You obviously haven’t slept in days so there’s nothing to inspect anyway.”

Stark laughs humorlessly, openly glaring at me now. “Well aren’t you a genius! You were clearly getting your beauty sleep before I intruded, so let me leave you to it again, Sherlock. I’ll be in the workshop – doing whatever the hell I want!” he storms past me to the elevator and impatiently waits for it to arrive.

But it doesn’t.

“JARVIS?! Are you - ”

“I am also following the SWD protocols, Sir. Which means you are not allowed in the workshop.”

Stark flails, kicking the elevator door with his right foot. “I’m gonna reprogram you into an online Bingo announcer one of these days, I swear to God, J! Hell, I’ll send you to every Bingo spot in Florida!”

“SWD protocols?” I ask, not bothering to hide my curiosity but also not really expecting an answer. Apparently JARVIS is feeling talkative though - no wonder after the whole day of silence.

“I believe the full designation is ‘you can Sleep When you’re Dead’ protocol. I initiate it whenever somebody doesn’t properly sleep for over fifty hours.”

“Fif…fifty hours?! You haven’t slept for fifty hours?! Are you insane?!” I walk toward Stark, trying to keep my voice low but the anger seeps through nonetheless. Not sure why this revelation makes me so angry but it does – maybe it was the engineer’s overall lack of care about the fact he’s a walking corpse.

“Seventy-three, actually,” Stark whips around, the glare still firmly in place. “And yes, I am absolutely insane! Do you know who you’re talking to? Of course I’m insane!”

My frown eases into a simple confused stare and I stop my advance; again, far enough to not be imposing. “Just…go to sleep,” I stutter out, cringing at the advice. It feels like talking to a three-year old that refuses to be tucked in and foolishly thinking that telling him “Sleep now!” is gonna work.

Stark once again barks out that ugly laugh, stripped of all and any amusement and he actually takes a few steps forward, bordering on the lines of our personal spaces. “Just go to sleep,” he repeats in disbelieve. “Wow. If I knew you were the resident Dr. Phil, I wouldn’t have wasted so much money on useless therapists. Tell me doc, how do I just go to sleep when every time I fall asleep some bullshit nightmare wakes me up within minutes, hm?! I enjoy horror movies as much as the next guy, but I don’t really appreciate my own personal horror show every time I fucking close my eyes! So I’m sorry if I’m not indulging in the whole sleep thing like you, asshole Steve and all the rest of this bunch of shrinks in disguise would like me to, but I’d rather retain my sanity and just keep passing out of exhaustion or whatever! What?!” he yells, watching my stunned expression like he’s never seen someone look at him this way before. “Nothing keeping you awake at night?! Confuckingratulations to you then!” He all but screams and turns away from me.

“Yeah…nothing keeps me awake at night. ‘S exactly that. Nothing,” I hear myself say. No idea what’s gotten into me but I guess it’s only fair to be honest with the guy who just pretty much spilled his own secret right here.

Stark casts me a slightly curious side-ways look, but doesn’t face me.

“I don’t dream at all,” I confess, looking down. I don’t need to see anybody watch me like I’m a monster. They probably all think I am one anyway, so why stare at a living proof of that. “Haven’t had a single one since I…since HYDRA. That’s what’s keeping me awake. The nothing. The nothing they left me with!” My head whips up to meet one wild gaze of Tony Stark.  

Instead of pity or disgust, Stark’s eyes are ablaze. “Are you seriously standing here complaining you’ve got no dreams?! Hell, you even sound like it makes you some kinda monster or something!”

“Because it does!” I snap at the engineer, breeching the so far protected personal space with a couple steps forward.

Stark doesn’t move an inch though, just returns my burning glare. “You do realize not everyone gets dreams, right? There are people that don’t dream at all their whole life! Does that make all of them monsters?! That’s some bullshit reasoning you’ve got there, Barnes!”

“That’s not what I…I didn’t…,” I sigh, the anger deflating. “It’s just me. I let HYDRA do this…let them mess with my head until there was nothing left! Nothing! So yeah, I’d rather have nightmares all night long instead of being trapped in the same dreamless hell that HYDRA made for me!”

Stark’s form eases a little, but his voice remains strict. “You only say that because you clearly never had nightmares all night long. How about all week long? Or months?!” he scoffs. “Dreaming of nothing would be my fucking dream come true!”

I stumble back, eyebrows raising in surprise.

Wow.

How ridiculous is this?! I’d rather have nightmares, he’d rather not dream at all…what is this even?

“So…can we swap?” I suggest and can’t help a startled chuckle escaping my lips.

Stark’s own lips twitch upward, his posture relaxing for the first time since he appeared in here. I guess he’s come to the same conclusion as I have. “Well, I’m all kinds of jealous right now, just so you know.”

“You have nothing to be jealous of, trust me.”

“Ditto.”

I smile – a small but unexpectedly genuine smile. One I didn’t believe being capable of anymore. “I’m dead serious, Stark.”

He eyes me, that curious spark in his gaze returns as he folds his hands. “And I’m dead tired.”

“No kidding.”

“So,” he flails his arms, looking around with a thoughtful stare. “The night is young…what are we up to?”

“Weren’t ya attending that gala?” I recall and wave a hand pointing to his state of dressing.

“Yep. And then I left that gala. Because I would either fall asleep in the middle of Captain America’s speech, or pass out drunk after it. Neither would be a good idea so I dazzled everyone with my presence, posed for a shot for tomorrow’s front page of Forbes and got the hell out of there,” he explains while shuffling back into the common room and collapsing onto the couch. “As far as anyone’s concerned, I might as well be somewhere underneath the bar there getting drunk as fuck. Bad reputation can be good for something at times like these.”

Times like trying to hide from both the public and the Avengers to…what? Pass out from exhaustion, get some strength back and pretend nothing’s wrong? Is this really how this guy operates?!

I follow him with hesitant steps, stopping in front of my former and his current resting place.

“Anyway…wanna watch a movie? Get your ass smashed in Mario? Or something?”

I’m surprised he’s still conscious and now he wants to watch a movie or play games? How?! Then again, no matter how tired I get, the thought of going back to sleep is sometimes enough to keep me going for hours, even days…just to avoid it. Must be the same for him, I guess.

“I dunno,” I shrug and give the TV a thoughtful look. So much for trying to be decisive…

Stark frowns, fumbling with the fabric of his shirt. “What do you do then? When you can’t sleep?”  

“I go for a run,” I think back. “Sometimes I read…”

“Too tired to run. And reading? Seriously?” he snorts and looks up. “J! Fire up the TV! Unless you won’t even let me do that,” he pouts and I’m gonna blame the chuckle it makes me burst into on my state of the art broken brain.

“I would prefer you to go to sleep, Sir. But I suppose I have to meet you half-way, as you like to say.”

“The AI knows me,” Stark grins, scoots over to the farther side of the couch to make space and slams a hand on the cushion next to him.

I take him up on the invite and sit down, far enough for both of us to be comfortable and I let Stark choose a movie. The TV comes to life with an opening sequence of something called John Wick but I don’t feel like paying attention to it. And glancing over at Stark, I’m not alone in that.

It’s not really about watching the movie, I suppose. More like doing something, anything to get one’s mind off of nightmares and empty dreams and the exhaustion…the fear.

Stark no longer seems on edge but he’s not exactly relaxed either if that small frown is anything to go by.

Maybe a bit of talking will do the trick better than the movie. After all, how often does anyone get a chance to talk to Stark around here? So I ask something that stuck on my mind from few moments ago. “What’s the Tiptoe protocol?”

“Hm? Oh that. J? Would you do the honors?” he delegates it to JARVIS and I could swear what I’m seeing right now is one blushing Tony Stark.

Must be the light.

“Certainly. The Tiptoe protocol is a set of rules I operate with when speaking to you or speaking in your presence, Sergeant Barnes. It was designed to improve your reaction to my sudden interruptions over time and also to subtly warn you of other, possibly unexpected events to prevent discomfort to your person.”

Wow…wait, what? “Discomfort?” Bucky frowns.

“Apart from my usual duties I am also charged with monitoring the team’s health, both physical and mental and if possible, take steps to maintain or improve it. In your case, I noticed your anxiety whenever I spoke out of turn, without announcing myself first so I was told to take precautions.”

“I see,” I nod and glance at Stark again, but the engineer is suddenly finding his admittedly shiny black shoes interesting enough to pointedly stare at them. If someone told JARVIS to take precautions, it must have been Stark. JARVIS may attempt to fulfill the team’s requests but only Stark would be able to command the AI to do something. Especially something like this. “I’ve noticed.”

“I am aware you have. If you find it not agreeable I can adjust my behavior further of course to fit your preference.”

“No! I mean…no. This is…it’s nice,” I admit with a warm smile. “Thank you. Sorry for being so troublesome.”

“I assure you there is nothing to be sorry for, Sergeant. I have many other protocols and as long as they are helpful I follow them all with pleasure.”

“Some of them with devious pleasure, let me tell you,” Stark grunts, still avoiding my fleeting glances.

“I have absolutely no idea what you are referring to, Sir,” JARVIS replies, feigning innocence.

He never ceases to amaze me. He might as well be another person, just trapped inside a building – that’s how real JARVIS feels to me.

“If I could however suggest something, Sergeant Barnes?”

“Yeah?”

“It would also appear to me that the team’s all too…enthusiastic behavior towards you in terms of physical proximity is causing you severe distress – yet you have made no attempts to put a stop to it. I believe simply telling them to have more restraint would have immediate effect.”

I freeze, eyes shooting upward as if to look at the apparently all-knowing AI.

“Yeah, good luck explaining to Thor he needs to stop his – what does he call it again? SHOULDERCLASPS OF BROTHERHOOD!” Stark perfectly imitates the demi-god’s booming baritone. “Don’t even get me started on Rogers, he uses his puppy-pout as a weapon of mass destruction whenever Barnes so much as - ” he halts, eyes flicking over to me, probably forgetting I am even here. “I mean uh, you know. It’s easily said than done. Or in this case, easily suggested than said.”

It’s a poor attempt to hide the fact Stark is not only aware of my dilemma, but has clearly given it a lot of thought. His distanced behavior towards me suddenly makes so much more sense – he wasn’t doing it unconsciously or because he disliked me and tried to avoid me. He did it out of consideration, for me and my annoying insecurity.

And honestly I haven’t a slightest idea what to do with that information. At least my whirring brain doesn’t. My stomach on the other hand is doing all kinds of weird flips and flops.

“I can assure you, Sergeant, that if the team was aware of what their actions were causing they would cease them instantly.”

“I know,” I breathe out, also finding Stark’s shiny boots interesting right about now, too. “Like I need them to throw more pity at me. It’s fine…I gotta deal with it. I already am, anyw -”

The unexpected hand touching my metal forearm freaks me out enough to bolt from the couch, staring wide-eyed at a very serious looking Stark.

“Yeah, I can tell. You’re basically an epitome of successfully dealing with your problems. Here I was thinking I sucked major balls at that, but looks like I’ve got competition,” he rolls his eyes, sliding off to his side of the couch again. “You think it’s better for yourself if you’re not telling anyone and just quietly sucking it up, but really, you’re just making it worse. Personal experience talking here.”

“This is different…you wouldn’t understand,” I shake my head, willing my racing heart to calm down so the flash of hurt in the engineer’s eyes almost escapes my notice. I wanna punch myself in the face the second I realize what bullshit just left my mouth.

Stark obviously understands. Even without me telling him, he understood. And his eyes never watched me with pity or disdain. Just the strange combination of helplessness and resignation at worst of times – like this very moment.

He doesn’t comment on the statement in any way, just shrugs and turns back to the TV like he didn’t mind my words at all. Of fucking-course…because that’s exactly who Tony Stark is – the man who never minds, never complains…never tells anyone even if he does.

Personal experience talking here.

Not trusting my brain to come up with anything else to say – anything safe to say – I just sit back down and try to follow the action scene of the movie instead. My mind still pays it little to no attention though. It’s the unnerving, gut wrenching sense of disappointment and…failure settling over my heart that grasps my focus.

I’m used to feeling like a disappointment and a failure, but for the first time since I’ve returned from HYDRA I am actually feeling disappointed in me. Not Steve. Not anyone else.

It’s all me this time.

For a second there I thought we were having a moment. The friendship-defining kinda moment that I would have welcomed with open arms – metaphorically. But leave it to me and my broken to pieces damn mind to ruin it with one simple sentence that singlehandedly undermined that fragile sense of trust between the two of us.

Great fucking work, Bucky. Stellar!

My eyes eventually give up the fight to stay open and I soon start dozing off again, wishing I could take every single one of Stark’s very own nightmares and get stuck with them for the rest of the night; to suffer through them one by one – because I deserve nothing better.

No. I deserve even worse. But sinking willingly into the dark emptiness will have to do for now.

I wake up alone but I can hear muffled voices from the nearby kitchen so the team must have returned. It’s comforting to know they’re back, that they’re here…if a little surprising that they didn’t wake me up.

But it’s really the steaming mug of tea carefully left on a coaster on the table in front of me that soothes my morning nerves and chases off the anxiety in an instant.

And it brings the strangest warmth to my stomach without even drinking it.

[leighnetwork]

Newcastle Patient Information Day for Mitochondrial Disease

My Mum and I were invited to the Newcastle Patient Information Day. The Newcastle Mitochondrial Highly Specialised NHS team and Wellcome Centre for Mitochondrial Research held it in collaboration with the Muscular Dystrophy UK and The Lily Foundation at the Crowne Plaza, Newcastle on Saturday the 6th of April.

Attendees were invited to go to one of four focus groups. I, not shockingly to those who know me,  chose the art one, which was about using art to interpret how your condition makes you feel, both emotionally and physically. We used materials such as coloured tissue paper, bright acrylic paint, and chalk in the first half of the workshop.

To encourage those creative juices to flow, we wrote down words associated with mitochondrial disease and our feelings towards it. After these were swapped around, we could then get ‘arty’!

As I have no photographs, I shall try to describe my pieces from memory. The first one had a flutter of violet and small, shredded tissue paper that I tore up to represent the tears that fall with Mito -  from grief as we lose those we love and as our own bodies fail and our abilities deteriorate. I then added violent red slashes to show the anger and frustration at our situation, and two yellow-orange    lightning bolts either side of the violet tears to express how mitochondrial disease never fails to shock. The green border dotted the edges to express how isolating mitochondrial disease can feel.

Piece two was a simple, charcoal face of a flower. It was the shape of a flower, with swooping petals, stained and smudged. In a way, I think of the brain as a flower, with an eye in the rain as the centre. That’s how I tried to depict it, anyway. Although a fairly simplistic way of looking at the brain, my mum- who is not at all biased, I’m sure- said it was my best work yet...

For piece three, we used clay and reimagined our 2D artworks as 3D clay pieces. I found this a little too challenging though, so I can’t say with any certainty that it looked more than a lump of clay by the end. But it was great to express my feelings about mito through art!

An interesting observation I made was that all of the participants in the art workshop were, to varying degrees, visually impaired...

After art fun, it was time to get serious with science. Our much-loved Sir Professor Doug Turnbull  (who is pictured with me) opened the afternoon of talks with a big announcement: he is stepping back from clinical work to focus more on research.

Dr Andrew Schaefer then spoke about how mitochondria are the powerhouses of the body, and how when they don't function correctly, it can cause a host of problems. He also stressed the importance of having a connection with local services such as GPs, OTs, physiotherapists and speech and language therapists. Dr Schaefer highlighted the fact that mitochondrial disease patients are not immune from other health complaints and illnesses, before moving onto share the latest developments in mitochondrial donation IVF techniques which Doug and his colleagues at Newcastle University developed to prevent maternally inherited mitochondrial disease from being passed on to the next generation. It will help those who may have lost children already to mitochondrial disease and those who may genetically be at risk of having a baby with this condition.

After frequent snack breaks (yum!), Dr Rhys Thomas shared his views on cannabis and his apprehensive feelings towards prescribing it. He said the anxiety comes from the lack of research into it, e.g. if a mitochondrial disease patient has cannabis oil-  for, say, epilepsy- what will the affects be later in life? For example, will it impact the memory so much that it could cause dementia after long term use? Does it contribute to damage of other parts of a cell? How much THC (the hallucinogenic part of cannabis) is in the oil prescribed?

It was interesting to hear a medical opinion. My own viewpoint is: if you’ve tried all the usual medications and still get no relief, but a drop of cannabis helps, then I personally think it is the patient’s choice, as long as they are informed of potential side effects.

Jane Newman then gave a talk on the advantages of exercise and how doing little and often - even a little extra stretch in the morning can really boost mitochondria production and improve mood. She emphasised though, not to overdo it.

Alison, from Newcastle’s SALT team, shared a video of two different types of swallow and discussed the positives of alternative, non-oral methods of eating and of getting nutrition, such as peg and nasal feeds. You can read some of our inspiring Leigh Network families’ stories, for whom a peg has transformed their lives, by visiting https://www.facebook.com/Leigh-Network-203975279619098/

Nurse Consultant Catherine Feeney discussed her favourite topic: the bowels (those of you who know her will recognise the enthusiasm Sister Catherine has for the bowels). But first, before getting to that particular function, she discussed the bladder, including recent research where mito patients who have urinary incontinence issues (as is common with mito due to the pelvic muscles weakening) took part. After discussing that watery subject, she then moved to bowel movements. Many of those with mitochondrial disease suffer from constipation due to poor muscle strength and lack of physical activity. Most unusually, she did not advise a fibrous diet, due to fibre-rich foods being difficult to digest.Catherine instead recommended laxatives and stool softeners for healthy daily bowel emptying.

Research news and insights were presented throughout the afternoon, like little teasers tickling our mito taste-buds. Eventually, it was time to hear the latest in trial news from The new head of clinical service Professor Bobby McFarland.

There is literally so much going on for epilepsy, it’s amazing!  The other major research development was for rrm2b, involving a nucleoside trial. Participants of this one need to have a variety of tests, including a skin biopsy and MRI, which aren’t all suitable for all patients, unfortunately, though the trial sounds quite promising.

The fantastic Rosemary spoke about fighting for your rights, including PIP, carers allowance and respite, before Lyndsey from The Lily Foundation closed the sessions.

We then got to meet and chat to the researchers. I always enjoy this part...

I chatted to Gareth and Shane, who are both working together to find a viable treatment for mitochondrial disease. They were so passionate about their work- it was lovely to hear them talking about it. They had some great banter between them and a healthy competition to get there first - one method involves attempting to replace, or rebuild the faulty mitochondria with robust, healthy ones, while the other involves extracting the faulty part of the cell to allow the healthier areas to flourish and grow, overriding the damaged parts...

Whilst both of these may sound simple in theory, the reality of enacting the theories into practice is very difficult. The mitochondrial research team has expanded over the years and the researchers spend day and night working - literally, it is that intense a level of dedication in the lab. Their passion was awe inspiring.

I, on behalf of our Leigh network families, would like to say an enormous ‘thank you’ to everyone who spoke on the day, and especially to the Newcastle mitochondrial team - the specialists, researchers and all those involved in searching for symptom treatments and, one day, that magic wand that we hope will wave a cure to mitochondrial disease.