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hold-him-down · 3 months ago

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Belleview Chapter Two (Part D): Day One

Notes: This is the final part of chapter 2. Now, pretend all 4 of those parts were posted in one thing because that is really how it was meant to be but things got away from me :)

Belleview: Chapter 1, Chapter 2 (Part A), Chapter 2 (Part B), Chapter 2 (Part C)

TW: Institutionalized slavery, Med Whump, Dubcon Medical Care, References to Human Experimentation

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Day one, Lincoln thinks, goes by in a sort of semi-organized frenzy that makes up for a lack of rhythm with the undiluted tenacity of every person who has been assigned to this site. It is a flurry of organizing volunteers, scheduling with local hospitals, reviewing the notes of the medical team and pausing, occasionally, to ask how his two patients are faring. River remains isolated, but no one pushes him, and Felix remains alive and that, for what it’s worth, counts as a win.

Beds are built inside of the tiny rooms with impressive efficiency, while volunteers sort through the floods of donations, things from clothing to food to entertainment. At some point, an entire truck full of televisions, courtesy of the mayor, pulls up, and at another, a florist brings a van-full of indoor plants to help make the place feel more ‘homey.’ Three restaurants deliver catered lunch, and seven bring dinner. The residents, by and large, refuse the food, and it is not until the prepackaged meaty substance that has been their daily meal for their entire time at the site is found, heated, and delivered, that most of them eat anything at all.

The phone rings non-stop with offers for food or ‘any other support needed’ over the next week. News vans come and go, with volunteers offering cursory updates on where things stand at Belleview, but never on the residents themselves. Their identities are protected, and no one seems to mind regardless.

The community, much to Lincoln’s surprise, rallies behind the residents, and he is left to admit, reluctantly, that even here, in this somewhat small community in southern Florida, where so many vocal supporters of the system fought tooth and nail to keep contracted labor intact, there are countless pockets of good. He doesn’t have the time to rearrange his opinion on the town, but he recognizes the necessity to reassess where he stands.

For now, he throws all of his energy toward the task at hand.

Three of the residents, Felix, Gabriel, and Ari, require hospital visits for diagnostics. Lincoln makes a note to check on them before leaving for the night. Seven more have been hooked up to IV fluids and are being monitored while they sleep, but will be treated at the site once the med rooms are set up. Three (River, chiefly among them) refused any care, and seven allowed themselves to be examined without fighting. Notably, the team suspects that many did not understand, or believe, that things have changed, and so the pretenses under which they cooperated were dubious at best.

It’s eight o’clock, and with one full twelve-hour shift under his belt, Lincoln accepts that it’s nearly time to call it a day. The first group of volunteers has begun packing up and leaving for the evening, with the new group filing in and orienting themselves to their tasks. Lincoln sits in the empty office, twenty-one folders strewn haphazardly across the large metal desk.

He reaches for the newest folder, marked ‘Felix,’ and opens it. He reads through the notes– his notes– and stands, placing the lone file into his bag. He picks up his keys, and he turns off the light to the office, and he starts making his way through the bowels of the building that, just yesterday, housed horrors that he has not yet begun to wrap his head around.

Lincoln passes several volunteers setting up a common area out of what was once a waiting room, which includes putting together sofas, hooking up the donated TVs, stocking shelves full of books, and hanging art. There are half-broken down boxes strewn everywhere. He greets the volunteers with an exhausted smile and half-wave as he passes. Once he reaches the tip of the main corridor, he pauses. It’s quiet now, with an almost eerie quality to it. A couple of the fluorescents are dull, with one outright flickering. It gives the wing a sort of post-apocalyptic ambiance befitting its history. If not for the doors, each cracked open in a bid to encourage the residents to explore their temporary home, it would look exactly the same as it had this morning, save for one of the plants that made its way to a corner.

“How did it go today?” Dr. Anthony Schiller, the assistant director of the site, who will oversee it during the overnight shifts, asks as he pulls up beside him.

“It could have gone worse,” Lincoln responds. They are silent for seconds, maybe minutes, staring down the long hallway. And then, “I’m worried about them,” Lincoln says softly. At the doctor’s expectant look, he continues, “About where things go from here.”

Schiller nods in agreement, and Lincoln hands him the key to the office with a half-hearted smile that is meant to be encouraging, but might read closer to reluctant.

“Files are on the desk, notes are in the files,” Lincoln says. He gives a rundown of where they’re at, what they’ve done, who to keep an eye on overnight.

Once Anthony has retreated, Lincoln makes his way through the corridor toward the exit. He listens for any signs of distress as he does. In one room, the light from the TV flashes through the crack in the door. From another, he can hear crying. He pauses, knocking on the door. “Do you need anything?” he asks, and the boy’s– Ethan’s– eyes snap up to meet his.

“I’m sorry,” Ethan whispers.

“It’s okay,” Lincoln replies. He takes a step into the room, where there is a barely-eaten dinner and an untouched pile of blankets. “I’m sure this is overwhelming,” he says. He picks up the top blanket and unfolds it, then sets it on the untouched bed. “Have you had a chance to eat?” he asks.

Ethan nods, visibly holding back as much emotion as he can.

“Okay,” Lincoln replies. He sits at the edge of the bed, and pats the space next to him. “Will you come sit with me for a minute?” he asks then. Ethan, predictably, does as he is asked, and Lincoln hands him the blanket. “I’m going to head out for the night,” Lincoln explains. “Is there anything you want me to grab you for tomorrow?”

Ethan shakes his head quickly. “Okay,” Lincoln replies. “Try to get some sleep. If you’d like to turn on the TV, you can. Anything you need, please let the volunteers know, okay? I know this is confusing,” he continues, “but things will get easier.”

Ethan smiles, his eyes downcast, and Lincoln squeezes his hand. “I’ll see you in the morning?”

As he continues down the hall, he wonders, idly, how many of these beds will be untouched tonight. How many of these men will go hungry tonight. How many will sleep at all. River's room is quiet and dark, and Lincoln resists the urge to check in on him. He is okay. He refused lunch and dinner, but has a bed, has clothes, and has access to food and water. No progress has been made throughout the day, but, Lincoln hopes, they will try again tomorrow.

He reluctantly continues walking.

He pauses, finally, at Felix’s door. As one of the three critical patients, the volunteers have been on top of him all day, reporting back at least hourly on his status. With the medicine and with the fluids and with the constant care, he’s been stable, which is something.

Lincoln pushes the door open as quietly as he can, and buried under a weighted blanket, curled up on his side, lies Felix. An oxygen mask covers his mouth and nose, and, under the covers, Lincoln knows a slew of monitors cover his body, feeding them data on his condition. After a thorough review of that data, Lincoln turns his attention back to Felix.

Even in the darkness, it is obvious that he has been bathed, he has been given clothes, and his wounds have been tended. He looks… peaceful, Lincoln thinks. He looks comfortable.

As he takes a step back toward the hall, Felix’s eyes crack open, instantly seeking him out. His fingers lift, just slightly, in something that vaguely resembles a wave, and Lincoln makes his way to his bedside.

He kneels next to him, squeezing his fingers gently.

“Hey,” he whispers. With his free hand, Lincoln brushes the hair off of Felix’s forehead, then runs his fingers across the bruising on his neck. “I was just on my way out,” he continues, “I wanted to check and make sure you have everything you need?”

Felix doesn’t respond, but he keeps his eyes on Lincoln. Lincoln smiles and stands, with a soft, “I’ll see you in the morning,” as he moves away from Felix’s bed.

The panicked look, the same from earlier, ghosts across Felix’s features, and he reaches for the mask. It doesn’t take more than a split second for Lincoln’s mind to be made up. At home, his boyfriend will struggle to understand what happened here today. He’ll be chastised for taking his work too seriously, for not setting boundaries, for giving too much of himself to his job.

But, he thinks, as he pulls out his phone to send the text message: I’m going to stay here for the night. I’ll check in in the morning. Will explain tomorrow, he knows it’s right. By the time he drags the small armchair over to Felix’s bed and settles into it, Felix’s body has lost the fight for consciousness. Still, when Lincoln puts his hand on top of Felix’s, and the tension in his shoulders immediately lifts, Lincoln knows that this is where he’s meant to be.

Belleview Taglist:

@pigeonwhumps @peachy-panic @whump-cravings @pirefyrelight @i-eat-worlds

@taterswhump @squishablesunbeam @inpainandsuffering @distinctlywhumpthing @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi

@handsinmotion @whumps-and-bumps @pumpkin-spice-whump @alexmundaythrufriday @itsawhumpsideblog

@hellodecisionparalysis

#institutionalized slavery #Med Whump #Dubcon Medical Care #References to Human Experimentation #ok SO #this was really all one big chapter #and we went a little up close on some things that maybe didn't need to be as up close #BUT who am if not an oversharer of every detail of every interaction #anywayyyy #im gonna take a stab at making some edits to river's chapter and i do apologize for that but i think it reads slightly adjacent to where-#-i wanted it to #then we'll get moving

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hyperfixation-fix · 6 months ago

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Aight so.

Just reblogged a post that mentioned Nico canonically having depression (totally agree), but I wanted to talk about my other headcanons around Nico's mental health AND MORE IMPORTANTLY his recovery journey.

(AN IMPORTANT NOTE: I'm very wary of talking about headcanons involving mental illness, bc it can easily cross the line into romanticising mental illness. I grew up in that kind of online space, and it's toxic af and makes recovery almost impossible. So I want to emphasise, especially for younger fans who read this - Nico gets better, canonically and in my headcanons. So did I. So will you. It takes work, and often it's not a painless or pretty process, but it's so much better than letting yourself rot away in the dark. Romanticise being well, being happy, and getting better.)

In my head, Nico is autistic. But I think he's been so traumatised and so dissociated for so long that he doesn't even really realise how much things affect him, how much easier things could be if he gave himself permission to be the way he is.

FOR EXAMPLE. I think he is specifically very sensory-sensitive, but he's so disconnected from his body and brain that he doesn't really realise it. He just always feels Bad™️ and has never been safe enough to figure out why. So then, once he gets comfortable at CHB and really starts to finally feel safe and present, he starts to slowly untangle things bit by bit. Will is a big part of this - he's very intuitive and notices stress queues in Nico before Nico even realises he's stressed.

It starts off with Will noticing Nico avoiding crowds, which isn't necessarily weird for a kid who spent the last several years with ghosts, but then he realises it's not actually the people that bother him. It's the noise. Like, Nico avoids the Apollo Cabin as much as possible, even when it's completely empty except for Will, bc it's constantly got music playing a little too loud. Nico doesn't even really know why he doesn't like it and doesn't really bother thinking much about it, but Will is like "huh that's interesting". And, as he gets closer with Nico, that pattern becomes more and more apparent - in noisy places, Nico becomes tense and guarded, but in quiet places he's more relaxed. Then Will notices Nico's sensitivity to textures. Some clothes are consistently "grumpy Nico clothes" and some are "happy Nico clothes".

Will decides to run little experiments, making subtle changes around Nico and taking note of Nico's reaction. For example, suggesting Nico change clothes before a date because "I like the black jeans better" ie "the black jeans are a softer denim and stiff denim makes you grumpy". Or swapping out Nico's sheets bc "whoops my bad, I was practicing wound cleaning and spilled supplies all over them! But don't worry, I've replaced them with a new set so it's all good," ie "your sheets were cheapass 100% cotton and rough af and that's why you haven't had a good night's sleep like, ever, so here's a high-quality satin (or whatever, idk fabrics) set that probably won't bother you as much." And lo and behold, Nico sleeps like a baby every night after that. Or orchestrating a whole plan to get Nico into the Apollo Cabin when it's quiet (music gets turned low, siblings are threatened with weeks of dish duty if they don't keep it down), and seeing if he's less on edge. AND HE IS.

And eventually Nico picks up on Will's increasingly elaborate accommodation experiments (Will is simply having way too much fun at this point - he feels super sneaky, finds it hilarious that Nico still isn't noticing, and also just loves seeing Nico less stressed out) and is like "Solace I know you're up to something, out with it or else." And at that point Will is like "ok bet" and pulls out a fucking spreadsheet (Annabeth taught him how to use excel (yeh I know demigods don't vibe with tech but this is my headcannon so deal with it) with great joy and little-to-no interest in why he actually wanted to learn) with a bunch of Nico's triggers and sensitivities and the success rates of different accommodations. Nico is like "I'm actually going to kill you, you've been fucking with my brain for months????" but is barely containing how curious he is and how sweet he actually finds it that Will has thought so much about how to make Nico happy. But Will knows, especially when Nico, even while grumbling, takes the spreadsheet with him.

The next day Will presents Nico with a present he was saving for the final big-reveal: some loop earplugs or something similar. Discrete and practical 😌 Will just leaves them next to Nico's bed with a cute lil sticky note that says "Before you orchestrate my untimely demise as promised, give these a go. Consider it the last request of a dead man walking ;) love you Neeks x".

And that's that. The earplugs make a massive difference, much to Nico's surprise and Will's smug satisfaction, and from then on Nico starts to reconnect with himself and gets better and better at recognising things that make him more comfortable, and using them. Will considers his experiment over (a resounding success, of course), but is unwaveringly supportive and helpful as Nico figures stuff out.

Lol that became very long sorry, but it made me happy to write it out hehehe

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