#best was when an attending tried to force someone to get a procedure

[justletmeon12]

My personal least-favorite concept in "medicine" (psychiatry, which I refuse to consider real medicine) is "insight."

It goes something like this:

If they agree with you that they need "help," they're getting better

If they disagree, that means that they're sick and need to be treated against their will

It's just such a blatant attempt to undermine consent that it has no equivalent in medicine and is omnipresent in psych.

tired of medication positivity posts that assume everyone has a positive relationship with medication

here’s to people who don’t take medication that their doctors want them to take. here’s to people who get marked noncompliant. here’s to people who get sectioned or hospitalized bc they won’t take their meds. here’s to people who self-medicate w nonprescription drugs. here’s to the people in withdrawal. here’s to the people who would rather deal with their symptoms than medication side effects. here’s to the “treatment-resistant” people who have never found medication that helps at all. here’s to the people who are only on meds nonconsensually. here’s to people who refuse meds for “irrational” or “stupid” reasons. here’s to people for whom taking meds is a trauma trigger. here’s to people who are disabled from past medications. here’s to people who are constantly being pressured into taking meds they don’t want and having to defend their “no” over and over again

yes, lots of people need their meds. yes, meds can be important. but don’t forget us

fuck everyone who calls us anti-science or anti-recovery. who says we are hurting other ppl by talking about our choices. bodily autonomy includes the right to say NO. even to medical treatment.

[fibfoolingart]

i swear this was just supposed to be some fun aesthetic swap doodles, but then i started thinking about The Implications and now i have a wholeass story behind this au lol

any world where grace chasity isn’t a horny, homicidal prude, we lose the original plot, so this au would revolve more around the church of the starry children then max jägerman lol

solomon decides the best way to wield power in hatchetfield is through religion instead of government and he unites all the tiny denominational churches into his church, becoming the pastor (happening around the same time steph starts middle school.)

it works. almost everyone attends solomon’s church, and it becomes a required social event for anyone who’s anyone in hatchetfield.

but it’s all a manipulation for bigger purposes as solomon slowly incorporates text from the black book, pushing the church into culty territory.

as the preacher’s kid, steph is under constant scrutiny. she might have wanted to rebel as a kid, but the wrath of god is a much bigger threat than just breaking her phone and solomon uses fear and guilt to keep her in line, turning her into a model of godly behavior (at least on the surface).

the chasitys refuse to join solomon’s church, but their small congregation shuts down when there aren’t enough people left. 

grace’s parents encourage grace to pour all her free time into individual bible study to make up for the lack of church, church activities, and church outings, but grace starts treating the bible like a textbook instead of a spiritual guide.

without structured church activities, her obsession with rules and procedures shifts to the school system

grace unknowingly separates herself from spirituality when her bible obsession becomes academic. she’s still a christian, but she’s more likely to corner you in the library to infodump about angelic hierarchies than preach about purity.

travis coulson was ruth’s older cousin. it freaked her the hell out that someone could be bullied that bad that they have to transfer and their entire life is erased for a dumbass lie that everyone believes. so ruth vows that she and her friends will never be outcasts (or timberwolves) and drags pete and richie into a "popularity pact" in fifth grade, forcing them to get cool or else.

the trio spends their summer doing research and practicing social skills. (they basically spend their time practicing masking autism and refining their ability to camouflage.)

the trio starts researching what’s cool. their findings? football players, student council presidents, and school play leads are the pinnacle of popularity. so, they throw themselves into middle school tryouts and campaigns to fit these roles:

richie tries out for football but ends up as the mascot.

ruth auditions for the lead in the school play but gets relegated to lighting tech.

pete campaigns for class president but only gets elected secretary.

instead of quitting there, they regroup and try again in high school:

richie uses the athleticism he got as a mascot to land him a spot on the swim team.

ruth works her way up to the the student/assistant director for the school plays

pete works his way up the student council ranks, eventually becoming class president.

the trio is finally just cool enough that their quirks get rebranded as "quirky-cool" instead of "weird." they still bond over star wars and anime in secret, but their popularity ensures they’re never targets again.

[roosterforme]

Airplane Mode Part 1 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When Bradley finds himself on a commercial flight with the cutest flight attendant in the world, he can't keep himself from flirting with you.

Warnings: Fluff, adult banter, swearing

Length: 4400 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This is part 1 of 2! Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun!

Bradley was on his fourth deployment of the year, and it was only September. As he packed his flight suits and uniforms, he checked his boarding pass for the flight from San Diego International to Tokyo. His flight left in just three hours, so he needed to move.

The only way Bradley took commercial flights was begrudgingly. He much preferred his own Super Hornet, with his name emblazoned on the side, or his vintage Bronco. Nothing else felt as comfortable, as personal. But really, nothing was worse than a commercial airline.

He would probably have to sit next to someone who wanted to chat for the twelve hour flight. Or worse, get assigned the middle seat. But there wasn't really any other way to get him out into the western Pacific and onto the deck of the USS Nimitz in time for his surprise assignment. 

"God bless America," he muttered, rolling his eyes as he stuffed some clean underwear and his toothbrush into his bag. Then he locked up his house, unsure about when he would be back, and headed out in the Bronco.

Thankfully, his military credentials got him through the long security lines quickly, because he did not leave himself with very much time. He checked in with the airline and narrowed his eyes skeptically at the man working behind the desk.

"You've been upgraded to first class," the man told him.

"That seems suspicious," Bradley replied, earning a chuckle. "No, really. The Navy usually gives me the middle seat in the last row, right behind a screaming child. What gives?"

"Hmm, well, this flight is only at half capacity since it's a brand new itinerary. So we upgraded you, another military officer, and an elderly customer."

"And the screaming child?"

"Not upgraded that I know of, sir." 

"Thanks," Bradley replied with a nod as he scanned his boarding pass and made his way to first class. He had the window seat in the front row, so he stowed his carry-on bag and made himself comfortable while the other passengers took their seats. 

He could hear soft laughter coming from the curtained off area next to the cockpit, and a second later he was looking at a beautiful woman. 

"Welcome aboard, sir," you told him with a smile. "Can I get you anything before we take off?" 

Bradley swallowed hard and tried his best not to stare. "Uh, I'm fine," he managed to tell you. "Just....fine." 

"Right. Well, let me know if you need anything." 

You turned to greet another passenger, and Bradley found himself sitting up straighter as he blurted out, "Your name?"

You turned back to him and leaned his way. "Pardon?"

He met your eyes, and he grinned. "I need your name. You know, just in case I think of something you can get for me."

Your smile was more of a smirk this time, but you licked your perfect lips and told him what he wanted to know. Bradley tested your name out, and your smirk grew. "Yep. That's a good name."

You shook your head a bit. "You should get buckled in. I'll go over the exit row safety procedures with you in a few minutes."

"I can't wait," Bradley replied, and this time, when you turned away from him, he couldn't help himself. He looked at your body for a few seconds until he forced himself to face the front of the aircraft. He closed his eyes and counted to ten. This was going to be a long flight. 

He was lonely. It had been ages since he had dated anyone and quite awhile since he'd met a woman he even wanted to sleep with. That had to be why he was sweating a little bit right now.

Bradley buckled his seatbelt and tried not to watch you out of the corner of his eye. The sway of your hips when you walked was mesmerizing, as was the soft lilt of your voice. He listened to you charm every single person seated in first class, and he was already craving your attention again. 

When you came to a stop in front of him a moment later, he let his eyes travel from your sensible shoes up your bare legs, over your cute uniform dress, and up to your face. "Ready for your safety briefing?"

"Oh, absolutely," he said, his voice ridiculously needy to his own ears. 

You just smiled and gestured toward the handle to Bradley's right. "You are seated in my exit row. Can you verbally confirm for me that you are able and willing to help me in the event of an emergency?" 

"Definitely. I'd be happy to help you."

"Can you push, pull or lift at least fifty pounds?" you asked, your eyes taking in the bulge of his biceps and his broad chest. 

Bradley smirked and watched you lick your lips. "Sure can."

You pressed your lips together and eyed him briefly. "I don't know... are you sure you're strong enough to open the door?" Your voice was teasing, and Bradley swallowed hard as you shifted your weight from one leg to the other. 

"I'm strong enough to do anything you might want or need."

Bradley's grin grew as he watched your face light up, and the cutest giggle escaped your lips. "I'll keep that in mind," you told him with a nod before turning and disappearing behind that damned curtain. 

He rubbed his hands over his face before putting his phone into airplane mode. Flirting with you was pointless. He really shouldn't be doing it. But where the hell were the women who looked and sounded like you when he wanted to go on a date? Apparently they were thirty six thousand feet in the air, wearing tight navy blue dresses and ugly loafers. 

Bradley would do anything to be able to run into you at the Hard Deck. You probably didn't even live in San Diego though. And odds were good you were married or something. So he just settled back in his seat and watched the setting sun through the open window sash. Pretty soon he would be landing in Tokyo, he'd never see you again, and you would forget all about the guy who asked for your name and looked at your loafers.

Then, as if conjured by his imagination, you were standing in front of him again. This time you were folding down the seat that was used by flight attendants during takeoffs and landings. Bradley watched every move you made as you sat down facing him, your knees brushing against his as you settled into the seat.

"Sorry," you told him softly. Your perfect lips parted again before you added, "You must be tall. I don't usually have this problem." You were trying to scoot yourself back further in your uncomfortable looking seat, keeping yourself from touching him again as you buckled in. 

"I don't mind," he replied softly, repositioning his legs so that both of your knees were between his. 

Your eyes went a little wide as you whispered, "Okay," before clearing your throat. Bradley saw you glance at his thighs as he stretched his legs out a bit more comfortably, and then you immediately turned to look out the window as the pilot started to taxi toward the runway. 

The warm San Diego sunset had your skin bathed in orange light, making you look impossibly pretty, and Bradley was instantly regretting not bringing a book with him. No way he'd make it twelve hours in close proximity to you without embarrassing himself. 

"How tall are you?" you suddenly asked him.

He shrugged. "About six foot one inch, I guess."

"I'm sorry, I should have had you move to the aisle seat since it's empty. It's too late now, since we're about to take off, but you can move over later so we don't have this problem all night long."

Bradley shrugged again. "I wouldn't call it a problem. More like an added perk. I thought perhaps getting to sit by you was part of the upgrade to first class."

You kept eye contact with him but narrowed your eyes, and Bradley squirmed a bit in his seat. "You're flirting with me."

He chuckled. "Well, I'm trying. Based on your response, I must be doing a shitty job."

After examining his face for a few seconds, you sighed and looked out the window again. "No, you're doing alright. But I'm not allowed to flirt back. Whatever your name is."

"Bradley," he told you, holding out his hand. After you shook it, he said, "How about I do all the flirting, and you just pretend you're completely immune to me. Meanwhile, inside, you're totally falling head over heels."

You tried to hide your smile as the plane left the ground, and the jolt of excitement in Bradley's belly rivaled even the force of gravity. 

You didn't answer him, and you didn't look at him again, but Bradley felt your right knee bump against his leg as the plane gained altitude, and he heard you sigh. 

"Can you at least tell me if you'd flirt with me if I met you at a bar or something?" he asked after a while. 

You finally met his eyes just as the fasten seatbelt light was turned off, and you started to unbuckle your harness. 

"I'm afraid the answer to that question might sound as if I'm flirting with you." 

Bradley leaned forward as you stood and started turning away from him. "So is that a yes?"

You turned and looked at him over your shoulder, and you nodded. 

Bradley gaped at you, and he had to fight the urge to follow you behind the curtain this time.

"Fuck." He was absolutely squirming in his seat now. He could hear you and see your shoes, but you didn't emerge again for a while. And you didn't look at him as you took the dinner orders for everyone else in first class, leaving him for last.

Bradley told you what he wanted to eat, speaking slowly so he had time to look at you looking at him. 

"And would you like a drink? Maybe a cocktail or a beer? A glass of wine?"

As Bradley was just about to respond, you smirked at him. "You don't drink wine, do you?" you asked him.

"No, actually." He gave you a puzzled look.

You smiled at him. "I can guess what people are going to order with a scary level of accuracy. You like beer, specifically European imports. Stella? Maybe Heineken? And I think you also enjoy an occasional glass of scotch, neat. But you're also quite fond of "girly" cocktails, and you're not afraid to order them when you go out." 

"Holy. Shit."

You laughed at his response, and Bradley wanted to pull you down against him, listen to that laughter even closer. 

"Want me to make you a cosmopolitan?" you asked with a grin that had him practically stuttering. 

"Please." He managed to say that one word without too much trouble. You just nodded and strolled away from him again.

Bradley sat, impatiently waiting for you to reappear as he messed with his hair. He was really wishing he had taken more time getting ready. He was wearing faded jeans and a black tee shirt, cursing himself for looking like he dressed with no effort at all. 

He was absolutely going to try to get your number or give you his, and if he was going to get shot down, he liked to know he had at least put his best foot forward. 

You reemerged with a drink tray, and you took his breath away. He watched while you served everyone else, bringing him his martini glass filled with pink liquid last. 

"And a cosmo for you." 

Bradley took the drink and set it down on his tray table after taking a sip. "Delicious. Even better than my friend Natasha makes, and hers are great." 

You tucked your hands behind your back and asked, "Is she your girlfriend?"

"No. I am one hundred percent single," he told you immediately. "Maybe even more than that." 

The grin returned to your face, and Bradley was feeling ridiculously excited. 

"I'll bring your dinner out shortly."

"Wait, are you?" he asked, trying to keep your attention before you vanished again. "Are you single?"

You ignored him completely now, but you were still smiling. And you dropped off his dinner tray with nothing more than, "Enjoy your meal." So he ate his food and then you collected his tray and then he waited. 

He was pretty sure you'd have to return to your little fold down seat at some point during the evening. He was also pretty sure you'd have to stay awake all night. His plan was to wait you out. Beyond that he had no clue what he should do. 

But it was getting late now, and you were still somewhere up behind that curtain. He'd long ago finished his drink, and he had the brilliant idea to ask you for another one. He pressed the button to call for you, and then you were there.

"What can I do for you?"

He smiled so hard. "Are you telling me that anytime I push that little white button, you'll appear?" 

You had to hide your laughter behind your hand. "Yes. That's literally my job."

He shook his head slowly. "You've given me too much power. Will you make me another cosmopolitan?"

"Of course."

And when you brought him a second pink drink a few minutes later, he asked, "Are you allowed to sit with me again? In your little fold down seat?"

You chuckled and nodded. "Yeah, pretty soon I'll be sitting down for a while. You can move to the aisle seat whenever you want." 

But Bradley didn't move. He wanted to be as close to you as he possibly could. He just didn't realize that you might find that creepy or annoying until you were headed for your folding seat. 

"You're not moving?" you asked softly, just as the captain dimmed the overhead lights.

"I'm sorry, I can move so you have more room," he said, scrambling to unbuckle his safety belt. God, now he looked like a fucking creep. 

But you just shrugged at him. "You can stay in the window seat if you want. If you don't mind me bumping you."

Then you folded the seat down once more and took a seat before he could move. So he buckled himself in again, and let you get settled so that your knees were tucked neatly between his long legs. 

Just as you were starting to buckle your harness, the captain flew through some turbulence, and Bradley felt your hands come to rest on his thighs as you were bumped out of your seat. 

"I'm so sorry," you whispered, pulling your hands away like you had been burned. "I didn't mean to."

Bradley certainly didn't mind. He'd be more than happy to have your hands all over him. But of course he wasn't about to voice that idea.

"It's okay," he promised, meeting your eyes in the dim light. Another turbulent patch had you reaching for him again, but once you had your harness clasped closed, you wouldn't even look at him again.

"Sorry it's so turbulent," you managed to say, looking across the aisle at another passenger who had fallen asleep. "Usually I have someone losing their mind when it gets like this. But you seem very relaxed."

Bradley shifted in his seat, and his leg bumped yours. "I should hope so. I'm a pilot."

Your eyes snapped back to meet his. "Really? Which airline?"

Bradley just chuckled. "US Naval aviator. Top Gun."

"Oh," you said with a soft laugh. "I should have known. All you guys have a certain look."

Bradley licked his lips and crossed his arms. "What kind of look?"

You cradled your face in your palms. "Pretend I never mentioned it."

He shook his head. "I don't like pretending."

Sighing, you told him, "Aviators are always... big... strong looking. And overly confident."

"Huh," Bradley grunted. He supposed if you flew a San Diego route, you must see your fair share of aviators. You must also get hit on by most of them. God, you were beautiful.

"You're not like most of them, though," you added quickly. "Occasionally I have to excuse myself if they get crude."

Bradley's brow furrowed. "Crude?"

You shrugged again, checking to see if anyone had pushed their call button. "Yeah... it happens sometimes." 

"I don't like the sound of that," Bradley growled. 

But you just laughed lightly. "What are you planning to do about it? Follow me back and forth between San Diego and Tokyo and flex your muscles every time someone calls me baby or touches my butt?"

"Shit," Bradley whispered. "That really happens?" This information was swirling around his mind, and it made him feel sick. You were just doing your job; you didn't deserve to be harassed by aviators or anyone else. 

"You'd be surprised." Another bump of turbulence had your leg rubbing against his. 

Eventually Bradley whispered, "I would, you know."

You just looked at him for a few seconds. "You would what?"

Bradley smiled at you, and your lips curled into an involuntary smile as well. "Fly back and forth. Between San Diego and Tokyo. Flex my muscles and tell the assholes to leave you alone."

As you bit your knuckle to try to stifle your laughter, Bradley could practically feel how good it would be to have your teeth grazing his flesh. But the idea that you sometimes had guys giving you unwelcome touches had him ready to go through the roof. 

Then his mind shifted back to something you said. You flew from San Diego to Tokyo all the time. 

"Do you live in San Diego?" he asked quickly, and you bit your lip a little nervously, like you didn't want to answer him. 

But you searched his face in the darkness and finally said, "Yeah. I do."

Bradley's heart was thudding in his chest. He didn't want to press his luck. 

"What has you flying commercial to Tokyo? You must hate this! Are you being deployed?" you asked, drawing his attention to your words.

"Yeah. Hopefully a very short one. It's a special assignment."

Your smirk was back, even though he could barely see it in the dark. "Top Gun. Special assignment. First class upgrade. Sounds very exciting."

Bradley chuckled. "Listen, the best part of this whole thing was getting to sit with you between my legs.... Oh, God. Oh, no! I didn't mean it like that!" 

What the fuck had he just said?!

Bradley was frozen in panic with his hands halfway to his face, but you were laughing hysterically now. He watched you press your lips together to try to keep quiet as you shook with laughter. 

"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to say that! I just...I'm really enjoying sitting here with you, that's all!" 

You waved your hand in the air and managed to say, "It's okay, Bradley. Oh, you look completely mortified!"

"I am completely mortified. You'll never let me have your phone number now!"

Then you smiled at him, but your eyes looked sad. "I can't go giving my phone number out to all you Top Gun guys."

Bradley ran his fingers through his hair. "Shit."

You sighed and tapped his knee with your fingers until he was looking at you again. Bradley let his hand settle just above his knee, and he wanted to unbuckle himself and reach for you when your fingers touched his.

"When do you fly back?" you asked quietly

"Unsure," he replied. "No return ticket yet."

"Hm," you hummed softly. You ran your fingertips along his, and he'd had just about as much as he could handle.

"Please, tell me your schedule. Something. Anything. I need to see you again."

You were quiet for so long, Bradley let the back of his head hit the headrest. You'd withdrawn your hand from his body, and he was so disappointed. 

"I usually fly overnights on the way back to San Diego as well."

He leaned closer to you again. "Which days?"

"It varies," you said, glancing across the aisle and undoing your harness. "But I'd like it if you were on my flight again." You stood to take care of a different passenger, and Bradley's eyes tracked you in the darkness. 

He was done for. Over the next several hours, he got to feel your body bump his every time you got in or out of your seat. He could smell your perfume or shampoo whenever you glided past him. He strained to hear every word that you spoke, whether to him or another passenger. But when you were seated in your seat, you and he exchanged little stories and flirtations. 

One time he even reached across and folded the seat down for you to sit. "Handsome and mannerly," you muttered as you buckled in. 

"I thought you told me you weren't allowed to flirt back," he commented as the sky was starting to lighten outside his window. 

You met his eyes and grinned. "A girl can only take so much."

"Are you single? You never told me. Please don't devastate me right now," his voice took on a teasing, pleading tone that made you laugh again.

"Yeah. I'm single. It's impossible to date with this job, honestly."

Bradley's heart soared like the airplane he was sitting in. You lived in San Diego. You were single. You were sexy and appealing. 

"Guys always think I'm going to cheat on them. But you want to know what I actually do in my hotel room on my overnights in Tokyo?" 

"Tell me."

"I eat the best sushi in the world and watch this one Japanese soap opera with the subtitles on. I am completely addicted to it."

"Jesus. I can get behind that one hundred percent. When I'm deployed on land, all I end up doing is eating the local foods. And I love sushi. Would be nice to have someone to call and talk to about it. I'd even be willing to get caught up with this Japanese soap opera so we could discuss it." There he said it. He was too afraid to be more explicit than that. 

You eyed him up and down, your body still except for the rise and fall of your chest and shoulders as you breathed. "I think-"

Your words were cut off by the sound of the fasten seatbelt light being turned off. Immediately you were unbuckling again and folding the seat up. "I think I need to start the breakfast service."

Now you looked flustered as you vanished behind the curtain. Bradley waited and waited for you to return. He could smell fresh coffee brewing, and his stomach started growling. The sun rose over the Pacific Ocean outside his window, and he could see islands in the distance, but he did not want this flight to end yet. He hadn't slept all night, but he would gladly stay up another twelve hours talking to you if you'd let him.

"What would you like for breakfast?" you asked him as you started taking orders. 

"Black coffee and a muffin."

"That's it?"

"Yeah," he replied. "I'm planning on finding some sushi as soon as we land. You could join me?"

You bit your lip and shook your head. "Sounds appealing...but I'm working a turnaround."

"Right," Bradley rasped. So he watched you work, serving everyone with a smile, helping with whatever was needed. He ate his muffin and drank his coffee quietly. And when the captain announced the final descent into Tokyo, you took your seat across from him one last time. 

You were both silent, just looking at each other until one of you inevitably let their gaze fall to the other's lips. Then you would both look away until drawn back in to let it happen over again. 

As the wheels touched down on the runway, and the sound of the wings dampening the air flow took over the small space, Bradley leaned forward. "Can I give you my phone number? Just in case you ever want to watch Japanese soap operas or eat subpar San Diego sushi with me?"

You smirked, but after a few seconds you nodded slightly. "Just don't hold your breath that I'll use it, okay? I'm basically never home. I can't even get a cat, let alone go on a date. And you would get tired of my schedule. I can guarantee that."

Bradley listened to your words, although he didn't agree with them. But he pulled a pen out of his backpack and wrote his first name and his phone number on the beverage napkin he still had. When he handed it to you, he watched you look at it before folding it in half and tucking it into your pocket. 

And then you were up, helping all of the passengers unload from the aircraft. He watched you pull luggage down for the first class passengers before sending them on their way, but he didn't move yet. He sat for nearly a half an hour, until everyone else had unloaded and the captain and co-captain had exited the cockpit and came to stand amongst the flight attendants. But you had looked at him as often as he had been looking at you. 

Now that he was the last one onboard, he stood, watching you examine his height and entire body for the first time. 

"Fly safely," you told him with a smile. 

"You, too," Bradley replied. "I'm going to be hoping I manage to get on one of your return flights. Hoping so hard." Bradley's heart was pounding again as you gave him a little nod before he walked out of the plane and made his way onto Japanese soil. 

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

Thank you for reading this one! Please leave some love and stay tuned for the conclusion! And thanks to @bradshawsbitch for sharing her knowledge of life as a flight attendant!

PART 2

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[reidslibrarybook]

Pinecone Family

Couple - Dad!Spencer x Mom!reader

Warnings - Language, not proofread?, idk if there are anymore but lmk if there are

Summary - Spencer’s always loved his job, but how much does he love it when it gets in the way of him and his family?

Category - hurt/comfort, domestic fluff

Word Count - 3k

masterlist

Join my taglist here! —————————————-

The soft click of the door woke you from your much-needed sleep. Juggling a full time job and watching your angel, but sometimes a gremlin, of a daughter was stressful. Spencer was around, not as much as you’d like him to be, but he was trying his hardest. You sat up slightly and rubbed your eyes, your vision focusing on who had come through the door.

It was your husband.

“Hey. I’m sorry for waking you, I tried not to be too loud.”

You shook your head as a small smile formed on your face, “It’s okay. I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too.” He walked up to the edge of the bed and engulfed you in a hug that served to show you how much he longed for your touch while he was away. The idea of physical touch was something that always irked him, especially when he was younger and after his release from incarceration. He hated when someone would touch him without permission. Wayward brushes and forced handshakes aggravated him but he was much too quiet to address his annoyance.

When he met you a couple of months after he came back from prison and recovered from the whole cat fiasco, he was initially reluctant to give his heart away again. He was afraid that you’d be a repeat of Maeve, his first love. He expressed his worries and you understood. From then on, you became his best friend, his only friend who knew about his feelings and his fears and his shortcomings. You made him happier than he had ever been before. You helped him learn how to love himself in a way that he had never loved himself before.

You always joked about your time working as a flight attendant and how one of the safety instructions applied to him. It never really clicked in his mind but you never fully explained until you rejected his romantic advances…

“No, I'm serious.”

He sipped his glass of wine, skepticism written all over his face. “How does anything from your days as a flight attendant apply to me?”

You picked your legs up from the edge of the couch and crossed your legs, turning your body to face him fully. You took a sip of your wine before proceeding, “You know that thing where all the flight attendants have to demonstrate safety procedures in the aisle ways?” He nodded. “The one thing we always have to say, especially if there are parents and children onboard is, ‘Before you help others, you must first help yourself’.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “I still don’t understand how that has anything to do with me.”

“Spencer,” you took his hands in yours, “You are a kind, selfless man that puts others before yourself. Why do you think your wounds never heal? You never think about yourself.”

“I do.”

You shook your head and squeezed his hands tighter, “No, you don’t. You never want to burden others with your own thoughts or feelings so you bottle it all up inside and bury it deep down. You can never heal if you don’t have any self-respect.”

He looked away from you as he began to tear up. “Spencer,” you brushed your hand against the side of his face, his stubble scratching the palm of your hand, “You are not a bad man. You are deserving of love. You are deserving of your own love. Do not ever think that you are less than.”

Tears drops rolled down his face freely as he leaned into your touch, “Y/N.”

You ran your hands up and down his back as he sobbed into your shoulder. “You need to love yourself before you give your heart away to me. I need you to be able to tell me you love every part of yourself, all the pure and innocent parts and all the dark parts. Ask me again when you love yourself as much as you love your mom or your friends or your job.”

He whimpered quietly when you pulled away from his grasp. You lifted his face with your finger on his chin as you wiped away his wet cheeks. “I promise, this isn’t because I don’t have feelings for you, Spence. I do, I have very very strong feelings for you, but I want you to learn to love yourself first before you learn to love me.” You gave him a kiss on his cheek and pulled him into another hug, trying to hug away all the pain, all the trauma, all the hurt.

Months went by and, with your help, Spencer came to understand how much he had loathed himself. He realized why he used his mirror as a coat rack… to cover his reflection.

He took all the coats off the large mirror and sat himself down on the floor at the base of it. He stared into the glass and looked at the different parts of him that he disliked.

His hair that always seemed to change since he never thought he looked good with the hairstyle prior to the ones he had before. The bags under his eyes that served as a reminder of all the late nights he spent studying late while making sure his mother was alright. The scars, all of them, that told his tragic history at the BAU. All of the good and the bad and the ugly, he reminisced about it all.

You sat down beside him and leaned your head onto his shoulder, letting him know that you were there for him. He smiled and leaned his head on yours, looking at himself and then you. He smiled, satisfied with who he was, with who he became, for the first time in his life.

“Yes.”

He looked at you confused. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, I’ll go on a date with you.” He smiled softly and pulled you into a hug. How you could read him so easily left him dumbfounded.

Eventually, he asked you to marry him just as you were about to tell him that you were pregnant. Time flew and he was happy with his marriage and his daughter and his life… almost.

“Daddy!” The two of you turned around when your screaming 5-year-old came running in, jumping into her father’s arms. “Daddy! I missed you!” She snuggled her little face into his curly hair and wrapped her tiny arms around his chest.

“I missed you too, princess.”

You smiled at the sweet moment and rubbed your daughter’s back lovingly. “Aurora, you were supposed to go to sleep three hours ago.”

She turned to sit on Spencer’s lap and face you. “I did, Mommy. I went to sleep and I waited for Daddy while I was sleeping and I woke up when I heard Daddy come home.”

“Mhm.”

She turned back to her dad and used her very small hands to grab his face, “Daddy! Daddy! Can we have a sleepover tonight? Pleaseeeeeee?” She began to pout, giving him her signature puppy dog eyes.

“You have to ask Mommy about that.” She immediately turned to you and began pouting to you while Spencer joined in.

“Please, Mommy. Just for tonight, pleaseeeee.”

“Yeah, just for tonight,” Spencer chimed in. You gave him a ‘really?’ look and sighed, shaking your head.

“Okay, fine. Just for tonight though, you have to be able to sleep in your room tomorrow like a big girl.”

“Yay! Daddy, we get to have a sleepover tonight.”

He smiled and gave her a kiss on the forehead, “I’m excited. Let me go get changed out of my work clothes and then all three of us can snuggle like you like, okay princess?”

She nodded eagerly as she hopped into the middle of the bed and clung to your side, wiggling anxiously for Spencer's return. You pulled her closer to you and brushed any stray hairs out of her face. She smiled and gave you a little kiss on the nose, the smell of her apple shampoo wafting around you.

“Mommy?”

You looked at her with a smile. “Hm?”

“Can we go to the park tomorrow after school?”

“Okay, do you just want to go to the park to play with your friends?”

She shook her head rapidly. “No. I wanna get pinecones.”

You chuckled, “Pinecones? For what?”

“So I can make a pinecone family. One for me and one for you and one for Daddy. Daddy can come too! I want Daddy to come so he can tell me about the pinecones.”

You smiled, she always loved when Spencer rambled about the most random things— it kept her entertained. “Okay, Daddy can come too. But he might be busy tomorrow, you know he has to work with Aunt Emily and the rest of them.”

“Who has to work with who?” Spencer made his way out of the bathroom and lifted the covers to get into bed.

“Can you come to the park tomorrow with me and Mommy? I want to get pinecones!”

He looked at you solemnly. “I- I don’t know, princess.”

“Why don’t you know, Daddy?” She looked at him with a genuine curiosity that glimmered in her hazel eyes.

“I have work tomorrow, I might have a case.”

“Okay, Daddy.” She climbed onto his chest and wiggled her face into the crook of his neck. The disappointment was evident on her face as the guilt was evident on his. You rubbed his arm comfortingly and kissed your daughter as she drifted off.

Her eyes fluttered shut and her breaths became even. “She’s asleep, Spence.”

“I’m a horrible father.”

“What?” You sat up to look at him as he averted his gaze to the mirror that was once covered with cardigans.

“I’m never here and you know it. I- I’m just like my dad.”

“No, you’re not. Your dad left you and your mom because he didn’t give a damn about either of you. You love us both but you also have an important job. She’s too young to understand, Spence.”

A stray tear fell down his cheek. You leaned over to wipe it up and kiss his pouty lips. “I love you and she loves you and you love us. That’s all that matters. She’ll get it when she gets a bit older. As long as you’re doing what you love, I’m happy.”

He nodded, still unconvinced. He wrapped what he had left of his arm around you and kissed you, your daughter laying in between the two of you. You began to fall asleep while Spencer spent the rest of the night thinking about whether or not he was truly happy.

Before he knew it, the alarm on the side of the bed began to ring— signaling the three of you to get up. Spencer shook you awake. You smiled and gave him a good morning kiss, reluctant to get out of the warm, cozy comfort of your bed.

Your morning routine passed by in a breeze. Spencer left first, having to be at work the earliest. Before he left though, he spent any spare time he had helping you pack Aurora’s lunch or helping her get ready when she couldn’t decide on what to wear. He gave you a kiss on the cheek before leaving.

You dropped Aurora off at school and prepared for a busy day at work, trying your best to finish all your work before you had to pick your daughter up— you didn’t want to bring any work home, especially because you were supposed to bring her to the park.

It would be nice if Spencer were around more. You were stressed and overwhelmed from time to time and having him around to help would relieve some of that pressure. But you couldn’t ask him to give something he loved up, it was too selfish of you. He had been through so much in his life, the least you could do is let him do what he loved no matter how much of a burden it was on you.

—————————————-

You parked next to the curb by the park and unbuckled your daughter from her car seat. She held your hand, tightening and relaxing her grasp as she continued rambling about how excited she was to collect all her pinecones. She insisted on gluing googly eyes on them and using different craft supplies to make them look as human as possible so she could bring them to show and tell at school.

“How about this one, sweetheart?” You picked up one of the prettier pinecones and showed it to her. She gave her approval and handed you the basket so you could put it in. You kept walking around the park, picking up pinecones and an assortment of other “lost things”— something she got from all the Tinkerbell movies.

You reached down to pick a shiny object before you felt Aurora tugging on the sleeve of your sweater. You looked up at her, “What’s wrong?”

She pointed at something behind you, “Mommy, is that Daddy?”

You turned around and saw a tall, skinny man waving happily at the two of you. You smiled and nodded at your daughter when she looked up at you for your approval to run to him. She dropped her basket and ran as quickly as her tiny legs could carry her while making grabby hands in the air. She jumped into his arms as he picked her up and spun her around— his messenger bag falling onto the green grass.

“Daddy!”

“Hi, princess! I missed you so so much.”

She giggled, “You saw me this morning, Daddy.”

“I know, but I still miss you.” She wrapped her arms around his neck as her hands found their way to his fluffy, curly hair. She wiggled out of his grasp as her feet landed on the grass. Aurora quickly grabbed his bag and his hand and pulled him to you.

As they both made their way over, he looked at you with a wide smile on his face— he looked as happy as he did the day you got married or when you told him about your pregnancy or when the two of you got to hold you little girl for the first time.

“Look, Daddy! The pinecones that we collected are in here and me and Mommy were going to go to the other park and get pretty flowers so we can dry them!”

“That sounds wonderful. Why don’t you count and make sure that you have enough pinecones before we go?” She nodded as he turned to you and pulled you into an earth-shattering kiss.

You pulled away for air, gasping. “What’s got you so happy today?”

He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, “I- I um, I might have quit.”

“Quit what?”

“My job.”

“What?”

“I didn’t want to spend so much time away from you and Aurora anymore. I always leave and go away on cases. I- I just, I want to settle down now… with you.” He took both of your hands and rubbed his thumbs over the top of them. He placed a kiss on both of them staring into your eyes lovingly. You leaned into him as he wrapped his arms around you.

“Okay, Daddy. I counted and there are 17 pinecones. We can go get flowers now, I think.” He chuckled, pulling away from you and picking up your little girl.

“Okay, let’s go.”

“Wait, Daddy?” He looked at her with curious eyes. “Can you tell me about pinecones?”

He nodded with a smile ever-present on his face, “Of course. So these pinecones are native to the Virginia area. They’re the Loblolly Pinecones or Pinus Taeda and…”

Spencer continued to talk as all three of you got in the car. After about 5 minutes of driving, soft snores came from the back seat. Looking back, you found Aurora sound asleep after the restless day at school and running around in the park. You smiled and turned back around to see Spencer doing the same.

“What did Emily say about your leaving?”

“She told me that she was happy for me and that the future ahead would require a lot of my time. I don’t particularly know what she meant by that though. Maybe she was just trying to sound like those little phrases that you find in fortune cookies. She did tell me she wanted to write a few of them a while back.”

You laughed quietly, “I might have an idea as to what she was alluding to.”

He pursed his lips slightly. “I think she was talking about that one girls' night where we were all playing truth or dare.”

“I- I don’t get it.”

“I may or may not have let out a little secret that you don’t know about yet.”

He continued driving with his eyes on the road, though you could tell he wanted to look at you. “And what might that secret be?”

You looked at him slyly while grabbing his hand and not-so-chalantly moving it over to your stomach, “Why don’t you take a guess?”

It took him a while for him to figure it out, but once he did, he audibly gasped. “Really? How- how long have you known?”

“A week or two. I- I didn’t know how to tell you but since you so conveniently brought it up today, I thought I would just break the news.” He smiled, driving with one hand on the wheel and the other rubbing your stomach.

“Now I can finally be there for all of their firsts.”

“Mhm.”

“I’m so glad to have met you, Y/N. You saved me.” You looked at him with an endearing smile as he took a quick glance at you, immediately returning his eyes to the road. You giggled at his cautiousness and leaned over slightly to give him a kiss.

You were right all along, it would have taken everything in him to love you and your family if he didn’t love himself first. Now, the love came effortlessly… the love for you and your little pinecone family.

—————————————-

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[silverjetsystm]

Comfortable silence led to mulling over the doctor. Moon Knight is stiff despite the painless procedure. He watches; he always watches if he can help it. Silence seemed best. McCoy had enough dexterity and familiarity with the tool for Moon Knight to worry about getting his thigh cut open. A sort of intimacy he wasn’t used to.

It had been a stretch of a pun but they both needed the laugh. Making McCoy perk up seemed like the least he could do (even if they had gotten off on the wrong foot). Maybe the one time he can not fight the doc. McCoy’s laugh is as warm as his bedside manner, as warm as the paws handling his wounds. 

Attached at the hip. He’d be lousy company. Too morose. Bad with people. Especially someone like McCoy, who had parents who worried about him. Looking back, Marc could see his father's worry behind the anger.

Gruffly, he  appreciated the breakdown – not quite Barney style – trying to hide shame for needing the breakdown. Used to fighting tooth and nail. Big rebellions. Doctors who don’t give a shit at what he thinks. Had been better to hide it, go without until Marlene and Frenchie dragged him in. After the fight, the denial, the going into himself. 

Explaining what it is, not proceeding until the cowl nodded. "Good to go, doc." Points on the board. Little bit of the cowl working as intended. Keeping distance from Spector’s full memories. A better him. Treating him with the same jargon while defining it well enough someone like Moon Knight could follow along. They’re smart, they’re not this kind of smart. Jake’s street skills, Steven’s business acumen, their knowledge of Talmud that Marc tuned out. What’s Marc good for? Intelligence gathering, fighting. The fist to eyes and ears and gray matter. Space poppy filled in why there were no trials, no certification. It didn’t come from this world. Why would it fall into this type of jurisdiction?

He waits for McCoy to answer, curious head tilt. Hurt and angry didn’t particularly surprise him. Maybe that’s what this black ops squad was about. Pissed off useful people with nowhere else to go. Trying to bring the light to the dark without reward. “I don’t have the best track record with family either. Big surprise. I hope you all are able to reconcile. It’s not always on the table.” Spector (it’s still easier to refer to himself outside the vestments as Spector when he’s in them) didn’t reconcile with his father when he had the chance. Dad had called him, wanted him there in the end.

In the end, he attended the funeral, sat shiva, and made sure his corpse was returned to the ground. Not the same.

Lucky. Sure. It was nice to be recognized by the Commander. Moon Knight's good at being a tool for a alleged force for good. Point, tell him who to go after, and he goes. People are saved. Trick is, violence felt the same as it always did. Too good. 

He listens to McCoy about the past, nodding in comprehension. "Ruining a perfectly good life. I can relate. Seems to be a running theme in this line of work. Tried to leave this all behind twice. Sold the statue. Bought it back both times. I….I can’t stop. Whenever I promise, I break it. People get hurt." Way too honest. 

People he could figure; not about the species part. That’s too…big. The first people he protected was his family, his community. That’s common ground. "Quite the predicament to be in. Is the work here better? You like the person you are with us?" These new black ops types. Didn't have to wait long for the answer. "I’m glad. Living with yourself is what matters. Take it from someone who's been looking for approval in all the wrong places." Better said than done. He doesn't even believe that half the time. Felt like the right thing to say. Maybe he'll believe it too. 

“I know I’m speaking from a place of someone who’s done the worst things in the world.” The cadence of Al Chet and Ashamnu in his mouth. “For stealing, killing, and betraying…A place of hypocrisy and self-benefit.” He raises his face to meet McCoy’s gold eyes once more. "But…If I can do good work, I know you can too.”

Moon Knight blinked at the clean skin, knitted tissue and nerves compared to the rude hole in his leg prior. “Pretty fancy gizmos. Beat endless surgeries and physical therapy. I can wait. My docket’s clear.” Experimentally, he raised and lowered the leg, noting how everything rippled together. Maybe the Commander sees Moon Knight as straight jacket worthy. Maybe he’s a useful tool in his pocket. Maybe he really did see something worthwhile in Moon Knight. Whatever, he’s just happy? to be here. Didn’t have to think of the mess of his own perfectly good life that he blew up.

“Takes all kinds. The person in the chair is as vital as the people in the field. You see what we can’t.” He grins sharply, creasing white mask ghoulishly. “Contradictions are nothing new to me, Dr. McCoy. I’m a rabbi’s son who got resurrected by an Egyptian god of the moon. There’s nothing much I can do with that either. Khonshu is both vengeance and justice. Black and white. There’s a bit of one in the other, I’ve found.” 

"Oh, I'm going to worry about it. I've been worrying my parents since before I was born, and I feel as though it's only right that I return the favour outward on to the entire world."

The comment was lighter, a tad more airy - even if Marc hadn't laughed, just the mental exercise of placing the words, stringing together the pun, delivering it with an admittedly somewhat forced smile, had improved Hank's mood, as it always tended to. But Marc had laughed, and the hirsute biologist couldn't help but let out another startled little chuckle at the sheer warmth and depth of the sound. He hadn't expected the man's laugh to sound quite like that, and certainly not for such a paltry joke. It was - nice. It was easy to forget, but being here, and not there, being anywhere but that awful little prison of an island surrounded by grim faced X-Men, was better. Even if he found himself doing almost the same things, it was - better. Perhaps it was just the company he kept.

"Careful now, Mr. Spector. If you start laughing at my jokes, I'm going to attach myself to your hip so that you can assuage my ego with every passing garment based pun, and then where will we be?"

The tense that came with the instrument drawer had Hank's paw momentarily stopping, and he made a mental note to slow things down a little bit, sacrificing a touch of efficiency in exchange for a more relaxed, more obvious flow of movement - one that Marc could follow and, if he felt genuinely threatened, interrupt. "No, not habit forming. It's a next generation universal analgesic, essentially a heavily modified Alfentanil synthesised using extraterrestrial fauna that most closely resembles the Earth poppy, though without any of the addictive effects on opioid receptors one would associate with traditional branches of that particular narcotic family."

Quite a lot of words to say that it wasn't addictive or dangerous, but then, that was Hank's way - and, he found, especially in medical situations, having the soft burble of him talking through the process was good for keeping tensions low. "Human trials have long since concluded. The only reason it's not registered or on the market is that the flower it's derived from simply doesn't grow in Earth soil, so the mass market potential isn't there, sadly. Something you can chalk up as an advantage of working on a Commander Rogers budget, I suppose."

Then came the silence of work - borderline companionable, if he was honest, but then, he did have his paw on the man's thigh, occasionally having to shift his angle as the cellular scanner on the micron suture let him know when the damage had been repaired. The snicker at his (this time unintended) pun had him smirking again, golden eyes flicking upwards to match Marc's amusement as he stopped and started to explain the rationale behind his being here. Probation was an - interesting response, but then, Cap had always been a strong proponent of second chances, and while Moon Knight certainly had a reputation, it was usually at least pointed in the right direction. It made sense he might want to try and provide a guiding influence.

Naturally, Marc returned the question, and Hank mused. He needed time to think, time to put his words in order - so often now, he found himself struggling to say anything beyond, 'I'm angry and I'm hurt and I don't want to be with the people I thought were my family, not anymore.' Because that was the truth, but it wasn't - articulate, and it wasn't kind, either. He was trying to be that above all else. He was trying to believe that things would change to the point where he might want to go back. "Third chance. Well. We should all be so lucky, really, to have someone willing to do that for us. But then, Steve's that kind of a man." He hadn't even begun to answer Marc's question.

". . . There was a time, quite a long time ago, where I had made an ugly, sorry mess of a perfectly good life, and the Avengers gave me the chance I needed to start putting things back on track. For some years now, I've - been called to action on behalf of my species, and I rather don't like the person they need me to be right now. Want me to be. No, need. Need is . . . correct." Even with everything that had happened, he still felt obligated. He still felt like he had run out on them, in no small part because they had told him that was exactly what he was doing - some of them, anyway. "Perhaps I'm an idealist. At worst I'm a hypocrite, a deserter, especially given what I did this past afternoon, but I like who I am here better than I like the man I was over there."

There. The tissue and nerve damage had knitted together wonderfully. Pulling away the suture, Hank brought up the cellular regeneration stimulator, a soothing green light emanating from the blunt, rounded tip the only hint that it was anything more than a paperweight. "We're going to be here a minute, if that's quite all right with you. But, yes, I suppose I'm here because I didn't like it over there, and Steve's come to find me endearing rather than annoying like he used to. I don't usually go in for the cloak-and-dagger rigamarole, but most of the time I don't participate in field ops unless things get truly dicey, so I make my peace with it."

Hank snorted suddenly, almost violently.

"You probably find me quite the annoying contradiction in terms. I apologise for that, there's not much I can do about it."

[gumnut-logic]

Wire (Bit 18)

Bit 1 | Bit 2 | Bit 3 | Bit 4 | Bit 5 | Bit 6   | Bit 7 | Bit 8  | Bit 9  | Bit 10

Bit 11 | Bit 12 | Bit 13 | Bit 14 | Bit 15 | Bit 16 | Bit 17 | Bit 18

This is the end, technically, but I need to write an epilogue to tie it all up, so one more bit :D

As always, thanks to @tsarinatorment and @janetm74 for the read through. I was a bit nervous about this one. I’ve had to jam it into so many tiny snippets of time, that it felt patchy and wonky. I’ve been assured it is okay, so hopefully you enjoy it anyway.

-o-o-o-

It took some time and some exhausting work on Virgil’s part, but eventually he could sit up and Scott arranged a press conference. Apparently, it was against his better judgment and he wanted Virgil to wait longer, but it had already been over a week and the presents kept rolling in.

So with a handmade Thunderbird Two themed beanie on his head to hide the mess of bandages and mangled hair - it had been Scott who flew in their barber to tidy it up, but the result was definitely still beanie worthy - he prepared to face the media.

Gordon respected his hair, but the beanie was definitely up for grabs on the joke front.

Virgil claimed he was just jealous he didn’t have a Thunderbird Four version. It turned out even more hilarious when Virgil discovered that the beanie did have a Thunderbird Four partner...that was tiny and barely fit his handmade doll.

Gordon was very put out.

Virgil made a point of wearing the fan made hat along with a blanket to hide his belly - who had time to make him an entire blanket? Again, green with red tassels, thin yellow stripes and a white number Two in its centre.

He might have gotten a little over-emotional over this one.

He was blaming the painkillers he was on.

Stupid drugs.

Scott, with Gordon and Alan on one side and John on the other, pushed Virgil’s hoverchair down the hall. Gordon had declared he wasn’t missing this for the world and Alan agreed. John, Virgil suspected, just wanted to keep an eye on him. His space brother had been hovering a little and it was odd John would voluntarily attend such a public gathering.

Virgil could count John’s attendances to this kind of thing on one hand.

But it was good to have all of his brothers with him. After all, they worked as a team.

As for himself, he wanted to do this, but it wasn’t easy. His health was something to be reckoned with. Scott wasn’t far wrong. His brain wanted, but his body didn’t have the resources to deliver and a simple thing like getting into the hoverchair in the first place was frustrating and exhausting as all hell.

The moment the doors opened to the pandemonium outside the front of the hospital, he realised just how much he was asking of himself.

But he was going to do this, goddamnit.

The lights from holorecorders and flashes from cameras were blinding. A sharp word from Scott dulled it all down a bit, but the noise of so many people and the brightness of the day along with those still determined to photograph him was overwhelming.

“You don’t have to do this.” Scott quiet voice in his ear was ever so protective.

“Yes, I do.” And Virgil forced himself to face the people.

Fortunately, by the time they made it to the podium and his brothers sat down beside him, the majority of the crowd had quietened down, eyes pinned on Virgil, waiting for him to speak.

But it was Scott who spoke first, dressed in his suit, impeccable as always. Virgil had a suit jacket and loose shirt on, but that was all he had been able to manage. He looked like an idiot, but hopefully a dedicated one at least.

“Good morning. As promised, my brother Virgil is here to speak with you. As you can see, he is on the mend and we are ever so happy to have him back with us. He would like to make a statement.”

And Scott turned to him.

Virgil fingered the torn-out page of his sketchbook with his notes on it and looked out at the crowd. The media hovered expectantly at the foot of the podium staring up at him, but beyond that were the group of people that he had come here to speak to. Most were average, likely interested townsfolk, but in the centre there was a swath of green clothing. Several held signs and placards that said things like ‘Get Well Soon, TB2’ and ‘Thunderbirds 4ever’. There was even one sign that declared ‘We love you, Virgil!’.

These were the people responsible.

The mic stared at him.

He pulled on the speech training they had all had and straightened his shoulders the best he could.

“My sole purpose of speaking to you today is to thank all of you for all your support and for all the gifts that have been sent to me. I wanted you to know that every gesture is valued and...” He placed a hand on his heart. “...I am ever so grateful.” Said heart was doing a royal dance behind his breastbone. He pushed a smile onto his face. “I would particularly like to thank Gavii for the hat. I needed it.” The smile became a grin. “Kat’s playlist was a beauty, and JB’s TB2 was an utter delight.” He looked down, his mind rifling through all the gifts he had been given. Looking up, he stared across the crowd to the bunch of green people in the centre. “If I named all of you, I would be here all day, but I wanted you to know how much I appreciate and value all your contributions. I will be passing the majority onto those who need them much more than I do, but I will keep your well wishes in my heart for all time.” He drew in a shaky breath. “Thank you.”

Scott’s eyes were an intensity off to his left. Gordon had already placed a hand on his arm from his right.

Now what he had wanted to say had been said, exhaustion was having a good go at winning the war. He knew this would happen, but screw it.

His eldest brother shifted in his seat. “I would like to express my thanks alongside my brother. We are very grateful for all the support shown to Virgil and our family during this difficult time. International Rescue will be returning to operation as soon as possible.”

“Who will be flying Thunderbird Two?”

Scott eyed the reporter at the front of the crowd. “Plans are in place. IR operational procedure is not what this conference is about.” The commander’s protective nature regarding the secrecy of their organisation automatically coming to the fore.

“It won’t be the same without you, Virgil!” A woman in the midst of the green patch yelled across the crowd. The people around her murmured agreement.

Virgil twisted his lips, the need to defend his brothers foremost in his mind. “My brothers are quite capable of providing our services without me. You can be assured of that.”

“I have to agree with them on this one, Virg.” Gordon’s fond smile shone at Virgil and then across the audience. “It won’t be the same and we are all looking forward to having you back.” That hand on his arm squeezed tight.

Virgil’s lips had to curl into a smile.

“Three cheers for International Rescue!” It was yelled at the top of someone’s lungs and suddenly the crowd was cheering like crazy. Virgil’s name prominent, but also the other brothers, all topped off with a ‘Tracy, Tracy, Tracy!”

Beside Virgil, Gordon jumped up and joined in, Alan not far behind him. John smirked and Scott tried to stay serious, but his eyes were sparkling.

Cameras started flashing again, holo-recorders buzzing around, but despite the overwhelming noise, Virgil’s smile just got bigger.

-o-o-o-

Next

[gamerwoo]

[Tales from the Pack] Chan: Homewrecker (Part Two)

Characters: Chan x female reader

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, fantasy, a little fluff, angst, abusive relationship stuff

Word count: 2,728

Summary: Chan caught your attention as soon as your eyes met across the market. Something about him drew you to him, and you knew you were meant to be. However, you were already taken and arranged to be married on your next birthday, so you could never be together.

Previous | Next | Homewrecker Masterlist

Chan had been wanting to see you all week, but between Luhan and Dae coming to visit to see Eunjin, and then her and her mate going to visit Jiung and his pack for a few days, he felt it was best to stay with the pack rather than go out to the market where he could possibly get himself into even more trouble if he were caught -- he did try to change his appearance like his brothers who had been spotted by people in town, but there was still a chance of getting caught. But as soon as the couple had returned safely from their trip, he went straight to the market to go in search of you.

-

You returned every day, half because you wanted to get away from your family and their plans for your marriage, and half because you wanted to see the strange boy that had caught your eye. There was just something about him that made you feel…something. You didn’t know what it was, but you knew it was a good feeling.

To your dismay, nobody had shown up all week. You wandered the booths for hours and hours, but you never saw any sign of any of the strange boys from earlier that week. You felt like you wouldn’t actually ever see them again, but what did you expect with your awful luck?

You’d been at the market all day, and judging from the sun in the sky, it seemed to be about mid-afternoon. You had hardly eaten, so you went up to a stand to grab something to eat. Fishing in the pocket of your dress for money, you felt a presence beside you.

“I’ll take care of this,” the voice said before holding a hand out to the vendor, giving them a bill. You stopped what you were doing and turned to the stranger, coming face to face with a grinning Chan as he looked down at you, “Hello again, _____.”

You almost gasped at how happy you were to see him, and your excitement almost had you tossing your arms around his neck in a hug. Instead, you began to bounce on the balls of your feet, making him laugh.

“You’re here!” you exclaimed as he grabbed a fresh apple from the vendor. “I didn’t think you’d come back!”

You didn’t know, but Chan’s heart was soaring knowing that you were waiting for him. He couldn’t fight the happy rumble that sounded in his chest, but it was too loud and busy for you to hear it, “Were you watching for me?”

“All week,” you admitted shyly, your cheeks turning a light pink that made Chan so fond of you.

‘God, my mate is so cute,’ was all he could manage to think when he looked at you and heard you speak.

“Sorry to have kept you waiting,” he smiled, bowing slightly as he held the apple out for you.

With a giggle, you took it and held it to your chest like it was a precious gift, “It’s probably weird of me to want to see you; I hardly know you.”

“Why do you think I showed up today?”

You cocked your head to the side, “Did you really come here for me?”

He shrugged, “I’m not the one who does the shopping, so I have no other reason to.”

Chan heard your heartbeat pick up, causing another happy growl. He wanted so badly to hold your hand and pull you to him and kiss you breathless, but he had to remind himself that not only would that be too sudden, but you still belonged to someone else.

Someone you didn’t want to belong to.

Chan hadn’t mentioned it to any of the pack because he knew they wouldn’t approve, but he planned to offer to take you away from the life he knew you didn’t want. He wasn’t completely sure about your home life, but he wanted to know everything about you. He was determined to get more information before making a final decision.

But at the moment, his only plan was to get you away from your fiancé before you turned nineteen.

“So, _____, how've you been?” he wondered as the two of you began to walk side-by-side through the market.

You hummed softly as you tried to think of everything that had happened the passed week, “Well…my family has gotten suspicious of me going to market every day. They think I’m meeting with a secret lover, apparently.”

“Ah, so that’s what I am?” Chan joked with a chuckle, making your already pink face turn more red. But then he turned serious, scrutinizing your body. “They haven’t hurt you, though, have they?”

You sighed, subconsciously rubbing your left forearm, “They did something a little…extreme…”

Chan’s eyes widened, and he grabbed your hand and tugged you over to a secluded area, covered by shadows from nearby buildings. He put his hands on your shoulders and looked at you intensely, his brown eyes studying you.

“Did anybody hurt you, _____?” he asked.

You shook your head, “No! Well, I mean, the procedure didn’t feel good but--”

“What happened?” he demanded, and you swore you heard him growl.

Part of you didn’t understand why this stranger seemed to be so protective over you. He only really knew your name, yet he was acting so concerned for you. But on the other hand, you liked the feeling. Even your fiancé never really seemed to act like he cared much about your well-being. You weren’t really sure why he wanted to marry you, anyway.

“His family wanted to make sure I wasn’t sneaking off anywhere,” you explained, holding your forearm out for him to see the small, raised scar on your skin, “so they put a tracker in me. They know where I am no matter what.”

Chan didn’t like this one bit. Not only would it make it harder for him to take you away and protect you, but it was just inhumane! Who in their right mind would put a tracker inside a human just because they were paranoid? Werewolves were some of the most territorial creatures when it came to mates, and even he would never do something like that.

He had half a mind to grow his claws out and tear the tracker out then and there.

“Chan!” a familiar male voice shouted behind him.

Before he could do or say anything about your tracker, he turned to see Hansol walking over to him, and Yeji for some reason following behind him with a sunhat on her head to hide her ears.

“What are you doing here, Sol?” Chan wondered.

“Hansol, right?” you asked, recalling his name. 

Hansol smiled, but it seemed a little forced, “Hello again, _____. This is Yeji, my… My, uh…”

“Sister,” Yeji said with a chuckle at Hansol’s sudden lapse of thought. “He’s just a little flustered over Chan.”

The pup really didn’t want to be rude, but he had things to attend to, such as making his mate his instead of some asshole’s who didn’t trust her and treated her like some sort of pet. But it was clear Hansol knew something was up with the youngest of the pack by the way he had looked at him and made a point to interrupt his time with you.

“Sol, why are you here?” Chan repeated, a little more forcefully this time. “And why’d you bring Yeji with you?”

“What, I can’t leave the house?” Yeji asked with a playful smile. “Jihoon’s busy with yardwork anyway, and we all know I’m not doing that. Hansol mentioned coming to the market, so I tagged along.”

“So you just came here for fun?” the younger wolf asked.

"Technically, we have errands,” she explained before listing off, “Soomin asked for some supplies, Jeonghan wanted more of that honey bread since Junhui ate the last of it, Josh needs... What did Joshua want again?”

You were lost on everything they were saying, but you were just glad that Chan had come back for you. Something about him felt…safe. You weren’t sure why since he was just a stranger, but it was comforting anyway. He was still better than your family and fiancé, that was for sure.

As if he could somehow tell you were thinking poorly of him, the devil himself made his way through the crowd with two guards, clearly looking for you. He looked up from the device he was using to track you and locked eyes with yours. He didn’t like seeing you with strange people he didn’t know, especially two men. 

You visibly gulped, and it wasn’t only Chan that took notice. Yeji and Hansol followed your gaze while Chan tried to grip your upper arms. You quickly shook him off and stepped through the small crowd around you.

“Hello, Donghae,” you greeted him politely, keeping your eyes on the ground as you knew he was angry with you.

“Don’t be afraid of me, sweetheart,” he cooed, which only made you more afraid of him. “Why don’t you introduce me to your friends?”

As much as you didn’t want to – you wanted to keep them as far away from Donghae as possible – you knew better than to go against an order from your fiancé. You turned around as he took your hand and looped it through his arm as if you two were actually a happy couple. However, walking toward Chan and his friends with Donghae so close, you could feel the anger radiating off of him.

Cautiously, you looked up to see all three of them staring at you. Yeji looked curious, Hansol looked curious, and Chan looked downright angry. You assumed it was because he knew what your fiancé had done to you, but you also didn’t want Donghae knowing you told other people about his treatment toward you.

You tried to hold your head up higher, hearing Donghae’s voice in your head calling you a ‘pathetic, shy girl’ like he had done before, “This is my…fiancé, Kwon Donghae.”

The man beside you gave a smug smile, bowing to your friends to play up the ‘good fiancé’ bit. Politely, Hansol and Yeji bowed back to him. Chan didn’t. Thankfully, your fiancé was too busy being cocky to realize.

“Thank you for keeping my beautiful fiancée company,” Donghae told them, although you could tell clearly that his sincerity was an act.

Hansol didn’t seem to think so, smiling warmly at him, “Of course, we really--”

“However, that will not be necessary,” he continued, his smile dropping. Now, he just looked bored speaking with them, as if they weren’t worth his time – which, in his head, they weren’t. “_____ doesn’t need to be babied, and she doesn’t need friends. I already provide her with everything she needs. If I catch any of you with her again, it won’t be good.”

“Shouldn’t that be _____’s choice?” Chan spoke up sharply, his brown eyes glaring straight at Donghae.

He’d never been talked back to since he was the son of a higher-up in town, so he was visibly shocked by this, “Excuse me?”

“Clearly you aren’t keeping her company, so somebody has to,” the dark-haired boy continued. “Besides, she seems to enjoy having some actual fun.”

You didn’t have to look at Donghae to know his angry gaze was on you now. “Is this true, _____? Do you enjoy hanging out with these people over your loving fiancé?”

“Well, I--”

Your chin was grabbed roughly as he forced you to look at him, and you could’ve sworn you heard someone growl. From your peripherals, you saw Hansol and Yeji place their hands on Chan, who was now shaking from anger.

“Look at me when I’m speaking to you,” Donghae ordered through clenched teeth, his face inches from yours. “Now answer me.”

“N-no…” you lied nervously.

He continued to search your eyes for a moment before he finally let you go and stepped away from you, “If you’re not back to my house in fifteen minutes, you’ll be in big trouble. We need to have a chat.”

With that, he turned and left with his little posse of guards that he’d brought with him. The four of you watched him disappear into the crowd before Chan was grabbing your hand in his, automatically calming you.

“What the hell was that?” Yeji wondered quietly.

“_____,” Chan’s soft but intense voice was what made you look away from where Donghae stalked off to. When you looked at him, he definitely still looked angry, but his features softened when he saw how afraid you looked. “I won’t let him do anything to you.”

You shook your head, already having accepted your fate once the tracker was put in your arm, “Nobody can do anything to stop him. His father practically runs this town, and he--”

“Then I’ll take you away from the town,” Chan promised, a small smile forming on his lips. “I’ll take you somewhere they have no power, and you won’t have to worry about him anymore.”

As much as his promise made your heart flutter, you couldn’t help but wonder why this strange boy you hardly knew was telling you he’d risk his life to get you out of your bad situation, “Why do you want to help me?”

He just shook his head at your question, “That’s not important. I’ll try to come see you again, okay?”

“My house is usually empty during the week,” you told him eagerly – maybe too eagerly. “It’s on the same street as the flower shoppe, and there’s pink flowers out front.”

“Oh, I know where that is!” Yeji spoke up. “Chan, I can bring you.”

Chan smiled widely at the older girl before turning back to you. He knew he should wait a little bit as to lessen the suspicion on you. The last thing he wanted was for Donghae to hurt you some more.

“Two days?” he asked.

You nodded, “Two days.”

-

You made it back to Donghae with time to spare thanks to your running. You were sweaty and out of breath, but you wouldn’t have to face any extra consequences. However, when you went to his room, he was pacing and wasn’t paying any attention to you.

“Donghae?” you asked softly.

“Who was that girl?” he asked you, his voice a mumble as he was deep in thought.

“I…I don’t know.” you told him honestly. “I've never seen her before. Sh-she said her name was Yeji, but...”

“I know she’s not a resident of this town,” he continued, not looking over at you, “and those men you were with also strike me as suspicious. I think those are the werewolves the guards have been dealing with.”

Your eyes widened as your breath caught in your throat. You thought werewolves were just some legend; a scary story. There was no way they were actually real, right? But if Donghae was saying they were…

“…What does that mean?” you asked quietly.

“If there’s a new person being spotted in our town, then they must be imprinting,” Donghae stated, finally standing still in the middle of the room. “They must live nearby if them and their mates are coming to my town.”

He spat out the word ‘mates’, and something about it didn’t make you feel good.

“Not to disrespect you, Donghae,” you began, which made him give you a sharp look. You gulped, “but…what has led you to believe they’re a pack of werewolves? I didn’t even think they existed...”

“Stupid girl, weren’t you listening?” he groaned. “Of course they exist! And our town has been dealing with them for a while now. We had caught one and its disgusting mate, but they got away. Now, this new girl shows up with two suspicious men but they don’t actually have residence here? This Yeji is one of their mates, and the pack must be nearby.”

“What if they’re just out of town?”

“_____, I know a werewolf when I see one!” he roared. “And do you know anything about werewolves, you stupid girl? Hmm?”

You didn’t have an answer for that.

“Exactly,” he stated before calling out for guards. Two of them showed up immediately. “Send a team to the surrounding forest tonight. I’m afraid we have a werewolf infestation.”

[whumpersdump]

Project Rebirth - CH7: Food, and a Well-Kept Secret Truth

Whumper has a name! Meet Marcus, to his subjects known as The Parent.

[ Previous ] -- [ Masterlist ]

TW: mild force feeding / infantilization. Like, Marcus will literally be treating Orian like an infant / collar mention / restraints / mild manhandling / implied minor pet whump (heavily implied, not shown at all. Minor as in age) / pet whump / dehuminazation / lab whump (minor tbh) / implied past torture / mass indoctrination of both ‘pets’ and people (mentioned) / unfair legal system

Marcus is enjoying Orian’s new personality (as far as they have one tbh), while also handling the preparations for the new stream of subjects that the government and a few private parties have supplied. This bit contains mostly some worldbuilding, set-up for some more story on Marcus’s side, and Toby’s backstory!

Marcus looked down on Orian from the side of their bed. They slept in the white training overall they’d gotten after the Rebirth, under the Project’s Rebirth certificate that hung on the wall. They twitched every now and then. Murmured, even though they weren’t supposed to be able to for months.

One of the technicians explained it was a malfunction they wouldn’t be able to fix. Supposedly it occurred just a week or two after they started the container procedure, but they couldn’t notice it until Orian woke up. He’d been tempted to strap them down and drug them until they couldn’t lift a finger anymore when they kept screaming for hours on end, but a little side effect of that malfunction meant they put so much pressure on their brain they needed almost as much sleep as an actual infant.

Almost innocent, which they’d soon be for real.

Even then it was the screaming that bothered him. They’d been in the container for nine months, there was nothing left of their muscles.

Their nursery, as the staff still called it, was a light green. Stark white floors, a rocking chair in the corner, though it would never be used. Marcus doubted he’d need it. Though Orian was small, it wouldn’t be a challenge. Orian’s bed was outfitted with barricades on the sides to keep them from rolling out. It could be rocked from side to side as well. He’d hung a light above it, which he let flicker when he needed their attention away from the window they gazed at during the day.

Marcus smiled as the twitches died out, and Orian let out a small puff in their sleep. Despite it being purple in color, now more than ever Orian’s collar marked them as a blank slate. And an opportunity. Orian was no more than a few weeks old by the Project’s calendar—which started at the Rebirth—but the ministry had been so pleased so far, they offered Marcus a deal. Orian. If he tamed them, and they stayed that way for a month in one of the ministry’s own pre-placement facilities, he got to keep them.

It was a small bonus compared to the dozen pets being evaluated and prepared as he sat there, but one he appreciated nonetheless. Toby fulfilled his role the best a pet like him could, but he needed someone who was exactly as he built them to be. Pets might learn best from their trainers, but the lessons only stuck with a good example. Toby was obedient, sure, but his personality was still his own. It got in the way.

If Toby were a fit applicant for the Project he would have done it, but he knew too much about how it worked. The implant could take care of it, but it would have to be permanent, which would mean Toby’s skills went away with it.

Toby was one of the rare pets these days to be raised as a person. Of course Marcus knew how the world really worked, pets were a matter of personality. Or chance, if they just happened to be left on the ministry’s doorstep. Pets these days were either obtained young, or born with the ministry. Toby was in his early twenties when he got into the wrong theoretical area at his university. Got too close to the ministry’s centuries old manufactured truth.

They did a decent job on him. He’d only been a pet for half a decade, but if you asked him he didn’t know any better. Too scared for defiance at the time of capture, that was the culprit. To aware of what he’d be turned into. When Marcus first read his file, when his previous owner submitted him to test the Project, he thought it was a conscious obedience at first.

The way most pets obeyed. Do what they say, so you don’t get hurt. It works well enough, but the owner plays too big a role. It only takes one to be too lenient, and one pet and all they’re in contact with can get ideas they shouldn’t have. Toby on the other hand, was very aware of his place in society. Acted accordingly, even when he didn’t have to.

Marcus played an experiment on him, after his owner died. He was first in line to take him in, since he’d been in his care for months. He had a few actors pull him from the kennel as if they were setting him free. Payed them thousands to try and break his training the way the few opposing groups still tried to do. He ran off and was found crying at the door of the last training facility he’d been in, begging to be fixed.

That’s what got him the first blue. The only reason the rest was still green was because sometimes he was a little too aware that he was unusually well-behaved for a pet. He tried to use it to his advantage with other pets every now and then. He would place himself above them, as if his collar was a status symbol pertaining to him, and not the trainers and owners that raised him to be the pet he was.

A soft rumble came from Orian’s stomach as they opened their eyes.

“Are you hungry?” Marcus asked. He’d gotten criticism on his supposed gentleness, but it only looked like that from the outside. The back of Orian’s mind was still aware they weren’t an infant, alongside the fact that they were as powerless as one.

He took out a bottle that contained a water-thin smoothie with enough vitamins and calories and the whatnot to suffice for a whole meal. Was a liter-sized baby bottle a bit over the top? Maybe, but training pets wasn’t half as fun without a little humiliation. Besides, Orian couldn’t see it anyway, and they needed to be fed somehow. They always felt it though. They’d stay still, until they felt it against their lips and pulled away with the memory.

That was implant not doing it’s job. They weren’t supposed to refuse it. They always got hungry enough eventually though. Sure, Marcus would have to stop letting them refuse it in the first place, but if the implant was malfunctioning that much, he had to ease them out of the bits of control they thought they had left. It had been weeks, so it seemed today would be eventually.

“Come on now, you don’t want to be hungry for the rest of the day, do you?” He brought the bottle to their face after they turned away. Orian kept avoiding. Rocking their head from side to side, it was a pathetic sight really—if he didn’t include the fact that it also looked a little cute—but to Orian it was all they could do. Enough was enough, though.

He waved his free hand, blocking the light from the window. It tricked them, allowing Marcus to force the bottle between their lips with the other before they noticed. He pressed down a little, so they couldn’t push it out. Orian pouted, but Marcus didn’t budge. They drank it up almost half way, before lulling back to sleep.

Marcus stroked their hair. “See, that wasn’t so bad now was it?”

As much as he liked watching the most defiant pet he knew sleep like a rose without the help of any sedatives at all, he had other business to attend to. He had a deal with the ministry’s department of re-training and a few private investors to put just over a dozen pets through the program, but the ministry had also given him another interesting offer.

Prevention.

Six of them. All pets that were close to coming of placement-age, or just had. Late teens, most of them. One was twenty. All of them showed signs similar to Orian’s before they peaked, even if they didn’t know it themselves.

The youngest of them could almost be measured up with Toby, but their head-trainer was concerned their obedience was too focused on consequence. They were a little too eager to please, and too disappointed if it didn’t pay off. A few years ago Marcus would have told them to place them at a residence with a… reputation, but the government had faced opposition in the past years. Placement age cut it out. No one was too happy about it, but escapes went down. Probably because pets got more time to be weakened out or trained far enough.

Except for these six, apparently. They’d been put away in the daycare as his staff interviewed the headmaster of the institute they all came from. Marcus had trained close to a dozen trainers to take on some their load. He could only be in so many places at a time. One of those six though, was a challenge he’d like to take on.

Subject Seventeen. Previously named only Theo, though at the ministry’s training facility they were planning to dub him Tyler. Eighteen years old, short file. They’d only belonged to the ministry for a week, after all.

The risk of taking in pet-smugglers to be pets themselves was a risk, but Theo was young. He was the driver at a plan to smuggle nearly two dozen escaped pets over the border. The pets got out, but the truck was easy to trace, since the kid was stupid enough to take it back. Someone high up in the government somewhere took a liking to him when they put him to trial. His luck, because he wouldn’t last a week in prison. He broke his own fingers trying to punch the Catchers that were after the pets he stole.

All it took were some government-sanctioned ‘brain scans’ and ‘blood-work’, and there it was. Misread at birth. Of course the trial wasn’t televised, but Marcus would have loved to see the look in his eyes when the judge decided he’d be shown mercy since he couldn’t know better.

Marcus strutted past the pens. Some were guest’s pets, some prospects, a few had already been accepted for evaluation. To keep his clean reputation running they got an hour in the fresh air for each six they spent there, so most of the pens were empty anyway. Seventeen was in the far back, in one of the more secure pens.

Muzzled, wearing a Rebirth-issue straitjacket and pants that strapped his legs together. A harness around his torso forced him to painlessly stay on his knees. Pain was the one thing Marcus wasn’t the greatest fan of. It thought pets to avoid punishment, rather than avoiding breaking the rules.

Seventeen leaned back with a frown when Marcus opened the pen’s door. “Oh come on now,” Marcus quieted his tone, knowing full well that Seventeen was only starting to show cracks, not breaks. He knew what he was, even if not for long. “You’ve been at this for a week and you’re this jumpy already?”

He eyed the hand trucks they used to move the subjects, but Seventeen couldn’t be sedated before evaluation, and he showed a bit too much fight for Marcus to manhandle him onto it. They had solutions for that, though. The harness that Seventeen wore was attached to a thin rail that ran through the daycare into the evaluation wing. Marcus tested the jacket to make sure Seventeen was secured, then pulled him out.

Seventeen was on the tall side, he had no problem standing. He also had no problem trying to kick him. His legs were bound together, which meant every time he tried he ended up dangling from the ceiling.

Marcus let him have at it until he was out of breath. “Are you done? We’re only going to talk.” Seventeen frowned, but didn’t kick again. At least he knew which battles he could and couldn’t win. It made him just a little bit more cooperative than he likely meant to be. “I doubt you’ve had much training, but whatever you’ve heard, this’ll be much less painful than the ministry’s methods.”

A muffled curse almost broke through the muzzle.

Marcus took the risk of standing closer. Seventeen didn’t take his chance. Good. The same rail that ran along the ceiling, also ran along the middle of the floor. Marcus leaned down and held still Seventeen’s feet as he wrapped a white bag around them, that connected to the rail. “Now let’s go, shall we?”

Pushing him forward at his back, Marcus and Seventeen entered the padded evaluation room. A chair stood in the middle, the straps dangling off.

“Now there’s options,” Marcus said. “I take you off this hook and you sit down without giving me any trouble, or you make the mistake of trying to best me, and six men will be in here to put you in an infinitely more uncomfortable position. Anything’s fine by me, as long you can speak, of course.”

That last part got his attention. Marcus untied the harness and led the subject to the chair, where he strapped down his head, and secured his limbs as far as needed.

“Now. Let’s start simple. What did your childhood bedroom look like?”

Marcus left the room with smile plastered on his face when he was done. The kid had no idea what he was doing. Answered every question in perfect honesty, so jumbled with confusion. He’d never worn a collar other than the purple one around his neck, but even without Marcus he could get on a orange or maybe even yellow on his confusion alone.

He considered running evaluation for the other five newbies as well, but his buzzer went off. Sound alarm, Orian’s room. They were screaming again, of course. He’d have to find the triggers for it. The Rebirth was simple, the transition was as smooth as it could be, but still not pleasant. After that, they knew his voice. It made it easier for them to reach the concepts of defiance and resistance. This time though, they’d been alone for an hour.

Marcus softly opened the door to their room and, sat down next to the bed. Orian’s screams had died down into sobs while he was on his way there. “Shush now,” Marcus said. “There’s no need for all this, what’s wrong?” Of course Orian wouldn’t be able to answer, but that was half the fun. The other half came when he ruffled their hair.

Orian nearly choked on a last sob, but then quieted down. Their face softened as Marcus kept running his hands over the pet’s head. “Lonely, huh?” Marcus smiled. “I guess this…” he looked around for the most effective term to use for the malfunction. Orian would be living with it for the rest of their life. “…Defect, is having some useful side effects after all.” They remembered their life before, or at least how it felt. Which meant they also remembered the severe lack in affection, just not enough to know that they didn’t use to mind.

“Don’t worry.” Marcus softly rocked the bed with his free hand. “I’ll teach you to manage them as you grow up again. I’m The Parent. That’s what I do, after all.”

Orian didn’t go back to sleep. Not surprising, given they’d had more of it than usual. Their first evaluation was in a few months, when they’d gotten enough of their function back to perform a few simple tasks and commands. Of course the implant would cause some trouble in the beginning. It might be hard for them to understand the commands. Still, a double red, or even a partial orange had to be doable. A partial yellow qualified them for placement, which meant with a partial yellow, they’d be his.

“You’re a very versatile pet, Orian. I’m sure you’ll achieve great things, for a pet.”

Tagging the Rebirth crew: @suspicious-whumping-egg @distinctlywhumpthing ​ @panic-and-chaos​ @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @whump-it @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi

[abbysfrenchbraid]

Kissed by a Wolf - Chapter 3

Masterlist  /  Playlist for reading in this chapter, the reader is fighting an infection and making a furry friend.

CW for phsyical injury, bodily fluids, extreme pain, loss of consciousness and being pinned down by someone (this sounds terrible but I promise it gets more fluffy halfway through!)

This beautiful screencap of Valka was shared in our discord and I don’t know who took it, please let me know if you know the artist so I can credit them and check out their other work!

Healing

You woke up crying, the pain in your cheek threatening to split your head in half. Your cheek was wet from your tears and sticky from the wound that had been seeping all night. Eda stirred next to you and you both stared at each other in utter horror. William’s daughter looked like a corpse. Her cheeks and eyes had sunken deep into her skull and her face was a greyish color. You probably didn’t look any better, if her shock was any indication. 

The cell opened and you got your first round of water and bread for the day. The man feeding you gave you a pitiful look but did not say anything about your state. There was still alcohol on his breath and he looked annoyed about his task, probably wishing he was still in bed like the other warriors. You did not dare to ask for help.

You drifted in and out of consciousness for the next few hours as the last few other prisoners were taken to Randvi and questioned about their knowledge and alliances. There was an aura of hopelessness in your cell. No one was speaking, everyone was staring at their feet and flinching at any loud noise. Eda ate a piece of bread and got terrible stomach cramps but managed to keep it down. At least one good thing. 

People were going in and out of the longhouse, you could hear horses outside, swords clashing in the distance - probably training - and a few servants sweeping the big hall and cleaning up last night’s mess. Suddenly something small and white moved into your field of vision. Were you dreaming again? You were sure you had a fever by now.

But this was real, Eda saw it too. She had straightened up next to you, the faintest hint of a smile on her lips. A scrawny white cat was cautiously circling the cell and apparently scouring for leftovers. You quickly skimmed the ground for anything you could offer the little animal. And yes, there was a big crumb right next to your heel. You carefully pushed it closer to you with your foot and managed to get it all the way into your hands’ reach. 

Quietly whispering and purring to the cat, you tried to lure her closer. And sure enough, the little white lady slowly came closer to your hands. You stayed completely still and held out the crumb on your open palm. Carefully, the cat stuck its paw through the bars and pulled the crumb back toward her. She devoured it right away. Softly meowing, she looked up at you, asking for more. You smiled at the sweet animal, a silver lining on this terrible day in this terrible cell.

“Birna! Where are you, you little rascal?” a familiar raspy voice called out, this time in the sweetest singsong, making you smile even more. The cat did not move from its spot next to you, instead meowing back louder to call to her mistress. You slowly stretched out your hands and she watched them curiously, beginning to purr as you drew your fingertips over her soft fur. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Eivor rounding the corner, wearing nothing but a thick grey knee-length tunic and fur boots. She froze in her tracks when she saw the scene before her. You quickly pulled your hands back, thinking she was angry at you for petting the cat. She suddenly rushed to the guard that had fallen asleep on his chair, slapping his chest with the back of her hand and ripping the keys to your cell from his grasp. He jerked awake, but Eivor had already opened the door and squatted down next to you. 

“Fuck the gods.” She sounded astonished and extremely worried at the same time. “Damn you, Dag, how did you not see this? Her wound has festered!” 

Eivor’s voice got louder and angrier with every word. She placed a hand on your forehead. 

“She’s burning up! I’m taking her to Valka.” With one swift motion, she had unbound your hands and picked you up. You hung in her arms, too weak to move. As she carried you out of the pen, she shot Dag a warning look and hissed: “We’ll talk about this later.”

The tall warrior almost ran out of the longhouse, whispering to you to stay with her and that she would take you to the best healer she knew.

“Don’t you worry, little bird. You just have to fight and recover. I will take care of you from now on.”

You arrived at a smaller hut and entered the dimly lit room that smelled of burned incense and freshly cut wood. A small, black-haired woman with a beautiful headdress and impressive facial tattoos leaped to her feet when she saw you come in. 

“Oh Eivor, what have you brought me now? Lay her down here.” She motioned to her bed, a simple wooden plank with a sack of straw and a number of furs. Eivor laid you down gently, kneeling next to you and squeezing your hand. 

“She was struck by her master two days ago. It must have gotten this bad last night.”

Valka crouched down and inspected your tender flesh. You fainted several times as she prodded at the wound but Eivor always called you back to her. The healer was now assembling herbs, burning something, and heating up water in a kettle over her fireplace. She ground up some sort of root and a few herbs and threw the mixture into the boiling water. Then she took a clean cloth and ordered Eivor to place the hot kettle on a wooden plate next to the bed. 

She dipped the cloth into the hot, sour-smelling brew that stung in your eyes and nose, then she pressed it on your cheek. It felt like she had stabbed a dagger into your skull, the pain ringing in your ears and making you see nothing but burning white. You were too exhausted to scream, fading in and out of consciousness. Instead, your body started violently shaking and Valka yelled at Eivor to pin you down before dunking the cloth into the scalding hot liquid and repeating the procedure again and again. Thankfully, you lost consciousness completely after the third time. The last thing you felt was Eivor’s big, warm hands on your upper arms and her knee on your hip, holding you down as you convulsed in pain.

-

When you woke up for the second time today, you were still lying on Valka’s bed. You wore a long linen tunic and the women seemed to have washed you, freeing you from the sweat and dirt that had accumulated in the last days. The room smelled better than before, the kettle was over the fire again and the small woman stirred dried flowers and other herbs into the water. Eivor was sitting next to you and wringing out another piece of cloth over a bucket. You braced yourself for more pain, but the water was cool and the blonde gently wiped your forehead and healthy cheek, your neck, and upper chest, humming softly to herself. She dampened the towel anew and folded it to lay it on your forehead. It was only now she realized you were awake. 

“Little bird.” She laid a hand on your cheek. “The worst is over.”

Valka came over with a mug and put it down next to you. She gave you an exhausted but encouraging smile.

“I apologize for hurting you this much. The infection was spreading across your face, I needed to draw it out. You will need at least a week to heal.”

You raised a hand to your face, but Eivor stopped you from touching yourself.

“We will put on a bandage later. Now there is just a salve,” Valka explained, “and you will have to drink this daily to help your body fight from the inside and give you strength.” 

She handed you the clay jug and you carefully raised it to your lips, taking a small sip of the concoction. It tasted sweet and earthy, immediately spreading warmth throughout your body and giving you the strength to fully open your eyes again. The wolf-kissed smiled at you. 

“I will leave you in Valka’s care for now. Soon I will take you to my hut and look after you there,” she promised. “I need to go and attend to important business, but I will bring you both supper later.” She took your hand again and softly rubbed her thumb over your knuckles, then she raised it to her lips and placed a feather-light kiss on the back of your hand.

Before leaving, she put her hands on Valka’s shoulders and sincerely thanked her for helping you. Then she gave you a last smile and left. 

The healer forced you to drink three jugs of her wonderful tea, then she helped you outside to relieve yourself and brought you back to bed, rubbing the salve into your cheek again and ordering you to sleep for now. The ointment numbed your skin and made the pain bearable. Taking a final look at the sun setting behind the mountains, you drifted away to sleep again. 

-

When Eivor brought bread and stew later, you felt much better already. The two Viking women sat on the floor next to you as you ate together. The stew was made with thick chunks of fatty meat and big slices of root vegetables, filling your stomach for the first time in days. Eivor told Valka about the raid; apparently the healer had not attended the celebrations yesterday. When the warrior told Valka about Dag's terrible state last night and this morning, the dark-haired woman just shook her head about this much exorbitance and stupidity. 

Even though you were still exhausted and not fully present at times, it was nice to sit with the two women and listen to them exchange stories and opinions, talk about plans for the future and a woman Valka was thinking about pursuing. The name Randvi caught your attention at one point, but with a meaningful look from Eivor, the topic was changed. 

As it got dark and you couldn't stop yourself from yawning, they debated what to do with you this night. Valka offered to sleep on the floor so you could stay here, but Eivor argued that she had a bed large enough and far more comfortable for the both of you. The healer admitted that you seemed to be stable for now and made Eivor promise to call for her immediately if anything happened with you. 

She handed Eivor a bag with the ointment, a few clean bandages, and the herb blend for the tea you should drink for the next few days. The blonde slung the pouch over her shoulder, then she approached you with a suddenly shy smile. 

“We haven’t asked you for your opinion on this at all. Do you even want to sleep in my hut?” she asked timidly, seeming almost nervous as she waited for your answer.

You shook your head and smiled. “Eivor, I’m just glad to be out of that terrible cell. I will sleep on the floor if I need to.”

“Little bird, tonight you will fly into the land of dreams on the softest wings. This bed is fit for a queen.” 

You held up your arm and wrapped it around the back of her neck as she picked you up again. Valka accompanied you outside, then she said her goodbyes and left for the longhouse. Eivor carried you in the other direction and used her knee to open the door to her big wooden cottage. Red rugs covered the wooden floorboards and a big torch next to the entrance lit the room, drenching it in flickering golden light. Her bed really was gigantic, with intricate carvings on the headbord and furs draped over the mattress.

The warrior gently lowered you onto her bed and laid down an enormous quilt over your body. She lit a candle on her side of the bed and put out the torch. Then she sat down on a big trunk and took off her boots, placing them neatly at the foot of the wooden bedframe. Slowly, trying not to disturb you, she laid down next to you and covered herself with a thin blanket. You raised your head.

“Won’t you get cold?”

Eivor looked at you in surprise, probably having assumed you were already sleeping. She gave you her wonderfully crooked smile. 

“I’m very hot blooded. I don’t mind the cold.” 

“I admire that,” you sighed. “I’m always freezing.”

She turned toward you and rested her head on her arm, stretching out her other hand to brush a strand of hair out of your face. Her fingers stayed on your forehead for a moment. 

“Your fever has dropped. Good,” she mumbled, “you’ll be better tomorrow. Sleep now, little bird.” 

-

Later at night you woke up from the sound of your own chattering teeth. The cold had entered the hut and taken a hold of you with its icy fingers; your whole body was cramping up and shaking. 

You looked over at the warrior lying next to you. Eivor was sleeping soundly, her bare arms thrown over her head and one leg sticking out from under the blanket. She seemed to be immune to the bitter cold.

There was no way you could fall asleep like this, freezing and shivering, your jaw hurting from trying to stop the chattering. You had to take the plunge. Slowly, you turned over to Eivor, scooting closer to her and lifting the quilt to come in contact with her warm body. She was radiating heat. 

You snuggled up to her, laying your head on her shoulder and resting your arm on her chest. She flinched at your weight on her, opening her eyes to make sure there was no danger. You two shared a silent look, then she smiled and wrapped her arms around you, pulling you in closer and warming you up so quickly that you were asleep again within minutes.

-

The next morning you were woken by the bustle outside, animal noises mixing with the blacksmith’s hammer and people talking as they walked past. A rooster crowed and reminded you of your old home in Williamsburg. You were still lying close to Eivor, your head in the crook of her arm and your leg intertwined with hers. She hummed in her sleep as she felt you stirring and pulled you in, not allowing you to move.

You noticed that your head wasn’t throbbing anymore. Your cheek still felt tender and the wound stung, but you were sure the salve and the herbal infusion Valka had given you would get you through the day. 

Eivor moved again, turning her torso toward you and holding you even closer to her chest. 

“How did you sleep, little bird?” she mumbled into your hair. “Did I share enough of my warmth with you?”

You pressed your forehead into the hollow spot beneath her collarbone and inhaled her wonderful scent, a mixture of herbs, tree bark, snow days and a faint musk reminding you of the deer on William’s pasture.

“Without you, I would have frozen to death last night,” you murmured back. She enveloped you with her strong, hot body while her fingers stroked your hair absentmindedly. 

Suddenly, the blonde drew her head back to look down at you. 

“How is your face? Better?”

You nodded. 

“It still burns, but I think the worst is over.”

Eivor let go of you and stretched her arm toward the bag on the wooden trunk, almost falling off the bed when she finally caught it. You grabbed her hand just in time to pull her back up, both of you having to laugh at her clumsiness. She opened the small jar with the rich yellow cream and dipped two fingers into the mixture. Careful not to press down too hard, she rubbed the salve into your cheek, all the way from your jaw to your temple. As she massaged the little dent there, you closed your eyes and leaned into her touch. 

After a while, Eivor got up and put on leather pants and a coat over her tunic. She lit the fireplace so you would be warm all day and slipped on her boots, promising to return soon with breakfast and a kettle to make your tea. 

You let yourself fall back onto the pillow and pulled the quilt all the way up to your nose. This day promised to be a lot more comfortable than the last ones. There was not going to be much to do except lay around and wait for Eivor to check in on you every once in a while. Maybe she would give you something to do - you could mend clothes for her or sweep the hut or prepare food for later. 

It seemed terribly unfair to you all of a sudden, you sitting here warm and fed while Eda and the others were still biding their time in their cell. It was not like you had done anything to gain anyone’s favor, Eivor just seemed to take to you a lot and your injury had drastically changed your path here. You wondered what the others were doing now and what they would be doing in the next few weeks. Eivor hadn’t taken them here without reason, there had to be a purpose to all of this. 

A noise at the window made you look up. It was Birna, the white cat from yesterday, shooting you a demanding look through the gaps in the wooden grid that let in some light without leaving a big hole in the wall. Right, no glass windows. No wonder you had been freezing last night. Careful not to lose your balance, you got up from the bed and took the grid from the small opening. You were delighted to see that it had started snowing outside. Birna gave you a satisfied meow and squeezed through the window, immediately heading for the bed and curling up right where you had sat. The spot was probably still warm.

After placing the grid back in the window frame, you joined Birna on the mattress. She stretched and rubbed her tiny head against the back of your hand, demanding to be petted, and you humbly obliged. The two of you sat together for a while, the little lady purring in response as you made her compliments and told her about the cats back at Williamsburg.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door. This was strange - why would Eivor knock? To make sure you weren’t indecent? She had already seen you naked yesterday, although it would fit her to still be all honorable and courteous.

Another knock.

“Eivor, are you there? It’s Randvi.”

Your breath caught in your throat and Birna looked up at you, indignant at your sudden refusal to pet her. You did not dare to move or say anything. 

“Listen, I know we quarreled yesterday, but does this mean you won’t speak to me now? I just want to talk.” She sounded desperate, knocking harder this time. Fuck.

For a moment, there was silence and you started to hope she had left. 

Then the handle turned and the door opened. 

Randvi stood in the door, tall and beautiful as ever, her hand still on the doorknob. In a matter of seconds, her face went through surprise, confusion, realization, anguish and then nothing but wrath. You sat stone still, staring at her.

When she spoke, her voice was quiet and ice cold.

“So that’s how it is. I understand now.” She laughed but there was no humor in her voice, only bitterness.

Before you could say anything, she had turned on the spot and slammed the door shut. You could hear her steps fade away on the path to the longhouse and finally dared to release the breath you had been holding this entire time.

Birna had jumped at the loud noise, but now she rolled herself up in your lap and began to purr again. You let your head fall back against the headboard and stared up at the ceiling, trying to gather your thoughts. 

Jesus Christ.

You jerked up when you heard steps at the door again, but this time it was Eivor that entered. There were snowflakes in her hair, her face was flushed from the cold and she had brought a well-filled jute bag and a dark metal cauldron. A bright smile was on her face as she stomped her feet to get rid of the snow on her boots and threw the bag on the bed. 

“First snow!” she pointed out the obvious and took off her coat before letting herself fall onto the bed next to you and giving Birna a big smooch, which the cat took with an annoyed grumble.

“How did she get in here?” Eivor laughed and ruffled the cat’s fur. “She doesn’t like the snow. The little Viking princess is a sensitive one. She stays in here all winter and complains until the thaw comes.”

You cleared your throat. “I let her in through the window. But…” Eivor seemed to finally sense something was wrong and gave you a questioning look.

“Randvi was here.”

The blonde closed her eyes and sighed, then she blinked up at the ceiling just as you had done minutes earlier. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N. It’s complicated.” She shook her head.

You bit your lip and gave her an apologetic look. “She seemed displeased.”

This was a vast understatement, but you did not want to get involved in this, whatever it was. 

“I’ll talk to her later. This has nothing to do with you,” Eivor promised. Exactly.

You shared a breakfast consisting of bread, goat cheese and dried fruit while the water over the fireplace had started boiling and the herbs inside filled the entire room with their pleasant smell. 

When you had finished your meal and started sipping your brew, Eivor propped herself up on her elbow next to you. 

“Y/N?”

“Yes, Eivor?”

With her fingertips she drew patterns into Birna’s fur, her brow furrowed in contemplation.

“Do you think you could take another look at the map? I am planning on raiding Fort Winton tomorrow or the day after. The time is right, we are experienced in fighting in the snow and cold. I want to get this done.”

You swallowed hard, thinking of the life you had led before. If you supported this raid, you were betraying all your previous affiliations and fealties. Winton’s Steward was a terrible man. He had scared you when you were younger and he scared you now. You were sure that there was not a single person under his rule that enjoyed his company or thought him a good sovereign. You took a deep breath.

“I will. But under one condition: I do not wish to be seen as subject to English rule and fealty. I owe them nothing. I will give you all my knowledge and skill and I will swear my loyalty to you, only you. I will no longer be an English prisoner but your servant and by extension, a part of this clan.”

Eivor listened to you intently and considered your proposition for a moment, then she nodded. 

“I would not have let you come into my house and sleep next to me if I did not trust you already. I do not know how, but it sometimes feels like destiny brought us together.” Her hand moved toward yours, then she pulled it back and continued to pet Birna.

“I will speak to the council about this tonight. Tomorrow you shall help us strategize, so we can leave at first light the next day.”

You agreed, stretching out a hand to stroke Birna’s fur and just so happening to brush over Eivor’s knuckles with your fingertips. Both of you had to smile, feeling as if you shared a secret, one that had not fully revealed itself to you yet.

The warrior actually had a few tasks for you that you could take care of in bed: a few of her tunics that had tears and holes, a pair of pants which had ripped at the back - she went crimson red and mumbled something about a drinking contest and a wrestling match - and an old fur coat she had grown out of but gave to you to mend and wear. 

You spent the day with Birna, sewing and patching up Eivor’s clothes while telling the cat stories about Delia and Henry and your favorite adventures from your childhood. Eivor came by later, dropping off some more fruit to pass the time until supper. She seemed slightly irritated, but when she saw your work on her clothes she rejoiced. 

“You’re an artist, little bird! With you by my side, I will soon look like a queen!”

You laughed and clutched the fur coat to your chest. 

“I will take this as my first payment, then. Thank you. Maybe I will finally be warm for once.”

“Y/N, are you telling me you were cold last night? You must be made of ice if my heat could not pierce you,” Eivor teased you playfully. 

“Oh, it most certainly did. It seems you are the only one capable of doing so.” You smiled at her. She grabbed your hand and rubbed her thumbs over your palm. 

“I need to go now and meet the council. I will come back to warm you later.” She stroked Birna’s fur one last time, then she got up and in leaving threw you a last look that sent blood into your cheeks and made your stomach flutter.

“I long for it,” you whispered after she had closed the door behind her.

[swanno-arts]

help me god i also cant stop thinking abt cygnus i gave him rough ideas of his fellow aircrews and boss and also gave him a jackass brother

things i have abt them so far under the cut

First Officer/Co-Pilot Axon - Black Swan - He/They

Axon's roughly 1 and a half years older than Cygnus. They're very lax about his job as co-pilot because, face it, Cygnus does most of the work if it's not auto pilot. Axon doesn't really care about "being presentable at work", if it weren't for company regulations they would show up to work with a hawaiian shirt, uncombed and untied hair. Axon is also a very light sleeper - he has admitted that he gets most of his sleep when auto pilot is on. Has his upmost respect for Cygnus' overall diligence and piloting skills knowing how young he is.

Second Officer/Flight Engineer Andreas - Black Heron - He/Him

Andreas is the oldest out of all of the Swan Air staff who unfortunately cannot pension early due to the work contract. He has served Swan Air ever since it was first established, being one of the captains himself. In his older age however, he decided to step down the ranks and become a flight engineer instead. Andreas isn't so keen about someone as young as Cygnus and Axon handling the aircraft, but if they're doing well so be it. Andreas is also Parasol's father, although they've cut ties long ago and he doesn't want to talk about them unless you force him to.

Flight Attendant Dee - Dunlin - She/Her

One of the younger flight attendants in the staff. Her recruitment was mostly recent so she still has a lot to learn about serving passengers on flight. She's mostly cheerful and friendly even when faced with stress. Dee formed a close platonic bond with Maggie, her senior crewmate, and actually shares an apartment room with her. Dee is also close to most other Swan Air staff, including Cygnus and Axon. She's often offered to come along to drink after work, but she would always refuse.

Flight Attendant Maggie - Yellow Canary - She/Her

A more experienced flight attendant within the Swan Air staff. Maggie isn't the type to talk too much unless prompted so mostly handles the in flight safety procedures and assist passengers with their baggage. Maggie has seen the goods and the downright shits of the company, but decided not to do much about it because this was her only job. Maggie cares for Dee off schedule and teaches the young bird several life skills. Maggie gets along well with the rest of her aircrew but very much despises her boss, Seven. She would often be name-called by "Mango" by him and it irks her a lot.

Swan Air CEO Seven - Trumpeter Swan - He/Him

The current big bad boss of Swan Air, successor to his late father who was the founder of the company. Nobody in Swan Air really likes him one bit, which is not a surprise considering his awful leadership and work ethics. Seven forces strict regulations on his workers while pretty much excluding himself from any and all of the rules. How he evaded law and whatever remains a mystery to all the staff. He was actually once the company's best pilots in his younger age...wonder what happened. He's just a pure dick right now.

Cooper Silberg - Whooper Swan - He/Him

Cooper is Cygnus' older and more successful brother working in the business sector. Cygnus never mentions Cooper to anyone ever since he part ways with his family to live for himself so not many people even know he has a brother. Cooper, on the other hand, constantly badmouths Cygnus behind his back to flaunt how he's the better brother of the Silberg family. Cygnus tries his best to not hate him, but he always ends up being a nuisance if they ever meet. Cooper often bullies and taunts Cygnus by "offering" cash and credit what nots - but Cygnus never budged. Their relationship remains extremely distant to this day.

[avengerscompound]

The Surrogate - Chapter 18

The Surrogate:  A Clintasha Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Clint Barton x Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Word Count:  1639

Rating:  E

Warnings:  Pregnancy, kidnapping, panic attacks, pregnancy complications, medical procedures

Synopsis: A freak end of the world incident leads to meeting your two best friends, Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff.  While your friendship with the two Avengers is anything but conventional, they are your all-time favorite people.  When you find out that Clint and Natasha want to start a family but have exhausted all their options, you realize your powerset might allow you to give them what they want.  Having your best friends’ baby might seem like a good idea on paper, but when you are as close as you, Clint, and Natasha are, will doing something so intimate mean feelings get a little mixed up?

Chapter 18

Clint’s mission was supposed to only be two nights.  “Three at most,” Steve had assured the three of you with the cool calm of a man who had completed thousands of similar missions with no problem.  The Avengers team had been really good about keeping Natasha and Clint’s missions under a week and the closer you got to the due date, the shorter and less frequent they became.  No one wanted the baby to arrive when a family member was missing, and they knew how much stress it put on you when either Clint or Natasha weren’t there.

This particular team had included Steve and Thor, so you weren’t exactly worried about him.  If it was a simple mission with two of the bigger hitters, he’d be home in no time.

When the fifth night passed and they weren’t back, you began to worry.

You weren’t the only one.  Natasha wouldn’t let on, but you could tell the lack of any word was getting to her too.  She was in the comms rooms and attending meetings so much that you only saw her at night, and often you’d wake up in the middle of the night to an empty bed.

That only made you more anxious and over the course of the week where there was no word, each time you woke up to an empty bed you would start imagining the absolute worst possible outcomes.

Visions of Clint being tortured or dead haunted you and the more time passed without word, the more graphic they got.

When you finally got in communication with Steve and he said they were headed back, everyone went straight to the landing pad and waited for the jet to come in.  When it finally landed and the back opened up to let the occupants out, only Steve and Thor climbed out.

“Where’s Clint?”  Natasha said, rushing up to them.

“Nat,” Steve said, gently, putting his hand on her shoulder.  “Maybe we should…”

“No,” she shouted.  “Where is he?  Tell me now!”

“He went missing,” Steve answered.  “We sent him out to get intel and he never came back.  Then we found out we’d been bugged so we couldn’t send word back here.  We thought it better to try and get him out immediately but when we finally tracked down their base, it  was deserted.”

“What?  Steve!  You should have told us right away!”  Natasha shouted.  She looked ready to tear someone apart and she just wasn’t sure if she should start with Thor or Steve.

“Natasha,” Thor soothed.  “We did what we thought was best…”

“You thought wrong!”  Natasha shouted.

Bucky moved to her quickly.  “Don’t worry, Tasha.  It’s Clint.  We’ll get him back.”

You just stood there in silence.  All the worst thoughts you had had while they had been gone had come true and you felt like you’d been hit by a truck.  You wanted to say something you just weren’t sure whether that thing was to get angry like Natasha was, comfort her and tell her it would be okay, or just break down and cry.

“Let’s go in,” Steve said.  “We have a lot to talk about and we need to make plans for a rescue mission.”

Everyone started to move in the direction of the main building and you went to move after them.  As you took a step, the world started to spin around you and turn on its head.  As everything turned black you heard someone scream your name.

There was a beeping.  It was incessant and annoying and you wished it would stop, but you couldn’t quite seem to be able to open your eyes to see where it was coming from.

Wherever you were, it smelled like antiseptic, and it was too cold.  Your throat hurt, and your mouth was dry and you were panicked but you didn’t know why.  Someone said your name and you snapped your head into their direction and pried your eyes open.  Your eyelids felt heavy and you only managed to keep them open long enough to see Jake, one of the doctors from the medbay.

“Dorogáya?”

Natasha’s voice sounded panicked and terrified.  You turned in the direction that it came from and forced your eyes open again.  You were crying and you didn’t know why, but Natasha sat beside you with a wild look in her eyes.

“Nat?”  You said, your voice hoarse and gravelly.  “What happened?”

“You fainted,” Jake answered.  “Landed pretty heavily.  Your powers seem to be impeded…”

Panic rushed through you and you tried to sit up.  Jake and one of the nurses held you back down as you thrashed under them.  “The baby?  Is she okay?  Natasha?”

“Shh… it’s okay.  The baby’s okay,” Jake soothed.  “You need to relax.”

“She’s okay?”  You said, laying back down and putting your hands on your stomach.

“Yes, at the moment,” he said.  “But… you fainted and you landed badly.  Your powers seemed to have helped you and the baby, but not as much as they usually seem to.  Your blood pressure is very high which shouldn’t be happening.  We think that’s why you fainted.  Your body is also not fighting the cannula, which it always does, we normally have to keep moving it, just to stop your skin healing around the thing.  Have you taken anything?  Eaten anything unusual?”

You shook your head.  Things were still fuzzy and picking through your memories was like walking through a fog.  You couldn’t remember eating anything unusual.  You’d been with Natasha all day.

“Try to remember,” Jake said.  “If we can’t get to the bottom of this we might have to just get that baby out.”

You started crying again and looked at Natasha.  “It’s too early.  Nat… Nat… Clint’s not…”

And then it hit you like a ton of bricks.  Clint was missing.  Possibly dead.  The machines around you started beeping louder and an alarm began to sound.  “What are we going to do about Clint?”  You babbled, completely ignoring the frantic way the medical staff was moving around you.  “Nat, Nat… we have to go and get him back.”

“You can’t do anything, dorogáya,” Natasha soothed, though her voice was shaking slightly.  “My darling, calm down.”

There was a pinch in your arm like something bit you and you looked over to see something being injected into your arm.  The mental fog you were suffering from deepened and you sunk back into bed as your muscles all seemed to relax.  The machines all calmed down again and you closed your eyes.

“What happened?  What did you do to her?”  Natasha snapped.

“Agent Romanoff, you need to calm down,” Jake said.  “It was a sedative.  It’s safe for both her and the baby.  Because of her powers, it’s really hard to say what exactly is going on right now, but given that her blood pressure has shot up at the mention of Agent Barton, and the original incident happened when Captain Rogers and Thor returned without him, I’m going to assume this is an extreme stress reaction.”

“Nat,” you mumbled, shaking your head slowly from side to side.  “We have to get him.  He’s gotta be a dad.”

“I know.  But I can’t leave you,” she said, pain dripping from her voice.

“I’ll go,” you tried to push yourself up, but Jake easily pushed you back down.

“If you can’t lie still, I’m going to strap you down,” he warned.

“Is that really necessary?”  Natasha snapped.

“I don’t think you understand how dire this is, Agent Romanoff,” Jake warned.  “She’s not quite thirty-five weeks yet.  If we can’t keep her blood pressure down we’re going to have to do an emergency c-section.  Do you think that’s even possible given her power?  Because I don’t.”

Tears began to run down your cheeks even with the sedative making you so disconnected from your emotions.  “I’m sorry, Nat.”

She dabbed at your forehead with a cool compress and kissed your cheek.  “I’ll figure it out, dorogáya.  We’ll get Clint back and the baby is going to be fine.”

It was hard to tell under the influence of the sedative but Natasha sounded panicked and you forced your eyes open again to look at her.  “Nat… Nat… he might need me.”

“Of course he does,” she whispered.  “But you need to relax and take care of his daughter.  I’ll get him… I don’t want to leave you, but if I can just…”

“I’ll go.”

You lifted your head and looked over to where the familiar voice had come from.  You were much more out of it than you thought because it took a moment for your eyes to adjust and for the realization that Kate was standing in the doorway.

“Did Steve tell you to go?”  Natasha asked.

“I volunteered,” Kate said.  “Think about it, Natasha.  I know him better than anyone, except maybe you two.  I know how he thinks. I know his moves.  I’m the best person to do it.  Wanda’s coming too.  Cap and Thor as well so we can pick up the trail.”

Natasha shook her head.  “Katie, I think I should…”

“No, Nat,” Kate said firmly.  “You stay here and look after your girlfriend and your daughter.  I’ll get him back.”

She turned on her heel and marched out of the room without waiting for a reply.  Natasha watched the space where Kate had been standing for a little while, looking like she was lost in thought.  Her brows were knitted together and she was frowning slightly.

She snapped out of it quickly and turned her attention back to you.  “Okay, dorogáya,” she soothed.  “You heard Katie, you rest up.  She’s bringing Clint home.”

You nodded and curled into her, letting her hold you as the sedative pulled you down into sleep while you wept by her side.

// NEXT

[madamewriterofwrongs]

can i prompt: "Those things you said yesterday… Did you mean them?” for buddie? <33

Alicia! I meant to write something sweet and funny and instead, I wrote this. Regardless, I hope you enjoy <3

This, I Promise You

911/Buddie, 6k

“Eddie? Can you hear me?” Checking his best friend’s pulse, while constantly looking outside the grocery store window for the approaching ambulance, was not how he expected to spend his Thursday evening.

He had intended to take Eddie shopping for ingredients to make homemade spaghetti and meatballs. Instead, Buck had watched in horror as his partner collapsed in the dairy aisle, curling into his right side and only able to speak in pained groans.

Much later, he would feel grateful for his minimal medical training taking over his body while his mind swirled in panic but in the moment, the only thing that mattered was figuring out what was taking the ambulance so damn long.

“Just keep breathing, okay?” His fingers lightly brushed Eddie’s side and the man cried out louder, pulling Buck away from his work. He recoiled at the thought of hurting his friend in any way but there were so many other problems to deal with in the moment. What was happening to him? Where was the ambulance? What would he tell Christopher if Eddie died on his watch? The boy would never forgive him.

“Sir,” Buck jumped to his feet when a gloved hand touched his shoulder, watching from a panicked distance as the paramedics made their quick assessment that Eddie was safe to travel, and carefully lifted him onto the stretcher. All the while, Eddie continued his chorus of grunts and groans, fully-formed words having left his vocabulary entirely.

Buck opted to drive his jeep behind the ambulance (better to give them space to work, he reasoned), ignoring the selfish guilt in his stomach that somehow, he’d caused Eddie’s malady. He chose, instead, to focus his energy on calling Carla to bring Christopher to the hospital, then to inform Bobby of what little he knew, and finally, he called his sister. Second to his best friend, he needed someone to keep him calm with logic and a warm hug. Who better than the former nurse?

He would never tell Athena how he was nearly on par with the speeding ambulance on their way to the hospital, but he met them as they were wheeling him inside.

“Eddie?” He called to the man as he watched the pale form being wheeled past.

A nurse with a familiar stature to Maddie raised her hand to stop him with a firm tone. “Sir, you have to wait here.”

“But” he couldn’t leave Eddie alone now. What if something happened to him?

Again, the nurse stopped him. “If you give your and your friend’s information to the nurse over there, he’ll keep you updated, okay?” Her words were patient and gentle but left no room for argument. With one last glance at his friend disappearing behind the swinging doors, Buck turned towards the check-in desk. He was fully prepared to stand there until any new information came in, even if it took all night (which he sincerely hoped it didn’t).

That was exactly how Maddie found him when she hurried into the waiting area, operator’s uniform hidden under her sweater to accommodate the turning season. In fact, Buck wasn’t able to acknowledge her presence until two hands physically halted his mission to dig a trench in the hospital floor and he finally faced his sister.

“Any news on Eddie?”

She gently guided her brother to the nearest chair, only to press a hand into his leg when it began to shake with anxiety.

“Not yet. They took him back half an hour ago, why haven’t they figured out what’s wrong with him?”

“It could be such a simple diagnosis that they’re seeing to him right now.” Even if her words were just platitudes, they brought Buck a modicum of comfort to have another voice in his ear other than the one currently rambling about the worst-case scenarios. “What happened?”

“We were picking up groceries for dinner and he just collapsed.” Were he not in complete distress, he might have noticed the odd doubletake of his sister’s expression as his words set in. “He’s been hiding pain in his side for a few days, I thought he just pulled something at work and didn’t want to call out. Maddie, what if I didn’t say anything and now it’s only gotten worse?”

“Eddie’s a big boy,” she reminded him with no small amount of humor in her voice. “he can make his own decisions. If this is an untreated injury, then he’ll just have to deal with the consequences. But I have a feeling it’s nothing that serious.”

“That serious? Maddie, he collapsed in the grocery store. He was in so much pain, he couldn’t speak. How is that not serious?”

“By the way, since when did you and Eddie go grocery shopping together?” The blush in his cheek seemed to blossom instantaneously. “That’s very domestic of you.”

“Shut up.” Even Buck was unimpressed with his feeble attempt at indignation, too stressed to care much for appearances. “We were just picking up a few things so I could cook vegan spaghetti and meatballs for Christopher.”

“Where is Christopher?”

In all his pacing, Buck have never once forgotten about the little one’s imminent arrival. Facing the younger Diaz was the thing he seemed to be dreading the most in this entire ordeal. All the ways it could go wrong, all the ways he could fail that kid; it lingered in the air, refusing to offer a modicum of reprieve.

“Carla’s on her way with him. I really wanted an answer before they got here, though.” Having answers meant having hope and with hope on his side, maybe he could face those innocent grey eyes.

“I think you’re about to get it.” With Maddie’s assistance, he rose from his chair to face the approaching nurse he’d met earlier.

“Mr. Buckley.” He was too numb to feel her hand even as he shook it but he had a vague recollection of nodding in greeting. “You’re Mr. Diaz’s emergency contact, correct?” Again, he nodded as Maddie introduced herself to the other woman. “It’s a good thing you were with Mr. Diaz when he collapsed. It appears his appendix ruptured and if he had been alone, there could have been complications.”

All Buck heard was the crackling of static as the implications of her commendation sank in. “But, he’s okay, right?” She’d said it could have led to complications, that meant there weren’t any. Then where was Eddie?

“He will be. We’re prepping him for surgery as we speak but Mr. Diaz is heavily medicated, so we need your consent to move ahead.”

Wait, surgery? Surgery wasn’t safe. Surgery didn’t mean that everything was all right.

“Why-why does he need surgery?”

He saw more than felt Maddie’s hand on his arm. “They have to remove his appendix, Buck. It’s a very routine procedure, I promise.”

Of course, he trusted his sister, but that didn’t stop him from asking every question about the surgery that came to mind – even some he might consider irrational or fear-inducing under other circumstances. But these weren’t other circumstances. This was Eddie’s life. He needed to make sure his friend was safe above all else.

Thank goodness for Maddie, who gently pinched his bicep when he tried to ask for the credentials of the anesthesiologist, effectively drawing his attention to the impatient expression of the nurse before him.

“Sorry, yeah, you can go forward with the surgery.” He sheepishly signed his consent on the dotted line, even as his sister rolled her eyes at his hyperactive antics.

“Thank you, Mr. Buckley.” The other woman seemed to have the same expression on her face (though more professionally masked behind her clipboard. “Now, your friend has been very frantically asking for you so would you like to see him before we”

“Yes.” He cried with nearly too much enthusiasm, earning a startled jolt from the nurse who turned back towards the triage rooms without waiting for him. “Sorry, yes, I’m coming.”

Without looking back at Maddie, Buck pushed through the swinging doors Eddie had disappeared behind less than an hour earlier, his eyes immediately searching for his friend. Thankfully for the nurse’s sanity, Eddie’s room was the second on the left and already open for them to step through (lest she be forced to endure any more of Buck’s fidgeting demeanor.

The moment Buck’s eyes found Eddie’s, the room grew a degree brighter.

“Buck!” The firefighter cried. “You made it. I was worried you would miss it.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, buddy.” Buck grinned on his way to Eddie’s side, careful to stay out of the way as the other attendants continued their preparation work, but standing as close as physically possible. “How are you feeling?”

In lieu of answering his question, Eddie stared unblinking at the man before him. “Your eyes are like the ocean.”

Ignoring the smirks from the staff around him, Buck shook his head with nothing but fondness in his smile. “I’m going to remind you that you said that once you’re sober enough to be embarrassed about it.”

“Thanks, Buck.” The sincerity in the other man’s voice was nearly comical. “You’re a really good friend, you know that?”

“After everything you’ve put me through today, I better be your best friend.” He congratulated himself on his ability to make light of one of the most stressful days of his life (disregarding the times when his own life was in peril). “And we’re going to have a serious talk about you hiding things from me, too, young man.”

At this, Eddie seemed to grow paler as his eyes grew innocently wide. “How did you know?”

“The nurse told me, dummy.” He resisted the urge to sweep a stray hair from his friend’s face, but promptly surrendered under the reasoning that this may be his only opportunity. “You can’t keep scaring me like this.”

It was almost precious to see the grown man shrink into the pillows with a doe-eyed apology in his red eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to get hurt but I do it a lot, don’t I?” As Eddie fell into some sort of high contemplation, Buck gave one last glance over his friend’s features. Beyond a small reddening on the side of his face, he appeared to have no outward injuries from his fall. As for his insides – Buck hoped his unending questions were enough to sooth his anxiety but they hadn’t dissipated them completely.  

“No more than the rest of us, Eddie. The doctor will fix you right up and you’ll be back at the station within a week.”

“Two.” He caught his new favourite nurse’s voice as she rolled her eyes.

“One and a half.” He countered, only to be met with another definitive expression (was that a part of their medical school training?). “Two it is.”

“What if I get hurt again?” Eddie’s voice cut through the light air and pulled Buck back to his side.

“Maybe the staff will give us some sort of discount if we come in so many times in a year.” On more than one occasion, Buck had jokingly tried to bargain with the accounting department about some sort of punch card – and the fact that he’d an opportunity to make his horrible joke several times had not escaped his notice. “You’ll be okay. Just like you always are.”

“But what happens if I’m not?” That doomful thought had also crossed his mind but he’d struggled to keep it at bay. And now Eddie was staring up at him and no matter his own fears, he couldn’t let that sadness and fear take up residence on his friend’s face for any longer.

“I promise, everything will be all right, okay? You’ll have this surgery and then you’ll never have to worry about your appendix ever again.”

“I know the mortality rates on an appendectomy, Buck, there’s still a chance.” Even high as a kite, Eddie was still so smart. He was quick on his feet and calm under pressure in a way Buck wished he could emulate.

The trouble was: Buck also knew the mortality rates (having grilled the nurse on all possible complications, no matter how outlandish). “I know the numbers too, Eddie. You’re more likely to die in a skiing accident.”

“I would hope so.” The man scoffed.

Buck made a mental note to renew his statistics knowledge so he could win the next argument.

“I promise you’ll be fine.”

When Eddie grabbed his wrist, he was thankful his heart wasn’t the one being monitored. “Buck, I need you to make a serious promise to me.”

Even without the urgency in his friend’s voice, the firefighter would have agreed to anything. “Of course.”

“If anything happens to me, I need you to look after Christopher for me.” Before he could open his mouth to protest, Eddie continued. “He looks up to you and I know you’ll do everything you can to look after him.” Nothing that the man said was new information for Buck and yet every word sliced through the sudden fog around his mind with sudden clarity. “And don’t let my parents bully you into taking him back to Texas. He belongs here with you, okay?” When Buck didn’t answer right away, Eddie squeezed his wrist tighter. “Promise me?”

“I promise, Eddie.”

Logically, he knew that he shouldn’t be taking any of Eddie’s demands at face value, as he was under heavy pain medication and anesthetics. He had no control over what he was saying and yet it all rang true to the Eddie he knew – if a little more slurred and enthusiastic.

“You really are such a good friend, you know that?” As the man continued his speech, the attendants began to hook his stretcher to be wheeled into the hallway. Buck followed steadfast behind the group as he listened intently. “I don’t know what I would have done without you all these years. You’re kind and loyal and smart and beautiful. If I was going to marry someone again, I’d want to marry you. You’re amazing, don’t ever forget that.”

As the doors opened to where Buck could no longer follow, Eddie called out: “Buck, I love you.”

Before the words could fully register amidst the other ramblings, the surgery doors had closed and Buck was left in an empty hallway that echoed with every unspoken word suddenly flooding to the surface. What had Eddie meant by that? Why had he said it at all? He couldn’t wait however long the surgery took before he got his answers.

“Wait!” He feebly called to the door, knowing even in that moment, he couldn’t cross over just to question a man most likely unconscious from the drugs by this point. What was he meant to do with his hands? Did his legs function on their own without him consciously moving one foot and then the other? Was he currently breathing? The air was too stale to take a reasonable breath, he needed space in order for his mind to spiral properly.

“Buck? What did Eddie say?” When had he returned to the waiting area to face Maddie? How did she know that Eddie had said anything? Right; Eddie had been asking for him.

“He, uh, he asked me to look after Christopher.”

Buck passed by his sister’s nodding head on his way to the exit doors, hoping the late afternoon air would provide some much-needed clarity from his overwhelming mental journey. The world outside the hospital walls was a creamy orange as the thinnest traces of the setting sun began to pierce the sky. A soft breeze blew just enough to remind him that the world still turned despite the numbness in his fingers.

Before his legs could attempt to buckle from underneath him, he found a small concrete wall surrounding some barely tended shrubbery and let himself collapse against it. His head fell naturally into his hands as he reminded himself to take one deep breath and then another. Another breath came and again and again until he felt the ground beneath his feet and the denim against his elbows and the sweat in his hair once again.

Eddie’s in surgery now.

Eddie’s in surgery and he asked you to look after Christopher if anything happened to him.

Eddie’s in surgery and he said he loved you.

Eddie was also incredibly high on medication and wasn’t acting entirely himself despite the similarities in his speech. They weren’t things he’d even imagine his friend to say out loud, but he knew them to be true.

Except for the part where he said he loved you.

Admittedly, that was the part that stuck with him. More than his faux deathbed confession to care for his son, more than his ramblings about Buck’s qualities. The simple admission that his feelings for the man went beyond friendship, threatened to bring back the swirling mind and tingling fingertips.

Eddie will be okay and then you can talk to him about it once he’s recovered.

Or you could just never talk about it and see if he forgets.

Do you want him to forget about it?

What do you want to say back?

“Eddie’s going to be okay.” Buck snapped to attention, looking at his sudden companion with a smile that seemed to grow of its own accord.

“I know, Carla. It’s a common procedure and he’s come back from worse.” Of course, worse had been getting shot in Afghanistan, but this was nothing compared to the trials he’d endured there. In terms of Eddie’s canon of injures, this particular incident was hardly worth noting.

With the exception of one, distinct, admission.

“Then what’s got that pretty face all screwed up?”

He opened his mouth to tell his friend the same thing he’d told Maddie, only to catch the thing missing in his life just in time. “Where’s Christopher?”

“Inside with your sister. She asked me to check on you.” There were many reasons Buck could name as to why he loved his sister, and he added another to his list. “So, if it’s not Eddie, what is it?”

Without needed words exchanged between them, Buck shuffled over to allow room for his friend to sit beside him. Perhaps there was another solution to his dilemma that he’d never considered before.

“It is Eddie but it’s not about the surgery. Well it is about the surgery but not the” Buck took a deep breath to steady his rambling mind and it marginally worked. “I’m not worried about his physical health.” His mental health, perhaps. How can he love me?

“What did he tell you?” The confusion must have been evident on his face because Carla supplied the answer. “Maddie said you went in to see Eddie and when you came back you looked like you were going hurl – her words, not mine.” He smiled at that. “What did Eddie say to you that got you so twisted?”

Four words. Not large for a statement but grand in stature and bewilderingly unsettling.

“He told me he loved me.”

“Oh.” Carla blinked in surprise, but he saw no disgust or apprehension, which he knew would be absent from the woman who’d known them both for the entirety of their friendship. Of the people in his Los Angeles family, she was the only person he might consider to be closer to Eddie simply because she had a different relationship with the man. There was something about Carla that had always put him at ease, and one night spent lying awake and missing the home he’d left behind many years ago, he realized the thing he loved about Carla was also the thing he loved about Eddie: no matter their dynamic or status, there was trust and respect and kindness. She might call it ‘being damn good at her job’ but Buck hadn’t called Carla all those years ago because she was the best in-home care worker he’d even known (not that he’d known too many in his time), he’d called because he trusted her with something important that he couldn’t do on his own.

Perhaps he could trust her again.

“I just wasn’t expecting him to say it when he was being wheeled into the operating room.”

“But you were expecting him to say it?”

He opened his mouth to protest, cursing his own subconscious, but a gently impatient look from the woman next to him silenced those thoughts. “I think maybe I was but I didn’t realize until it happened. Like, I’ve never thought about Eddie as anything other than my…” Suddenly, calling him his ‘friend’ didn’t seem like enough. “Eddie.”

“Well your Eddie just laid his cards on the table, it seems.” He had the horrifying realization that he would never escape that particular tease for some time. “So what are you going to do about it?”

Buck had been asking that very question since Carla found him and yet he still hadn’t come up with an answer. “What if he didn’t mean it? Or what if he meant it as a friend? Or what if he forgets? Or what if he didn’t mean to say it now and he’s not ready?”

“Honey, I’m going to say something I don’t think you hear enough.” She placed a firm hand on his shoulder to ground him into silence. “Stop thinking so much and just do something.”

Buck had, in fact, never heard that command uttered in the context of himself before in his entire life. If anything, he’d spent most of his career being constantly reminded to do the exact opposite. He knew reminding her of that would only earn him an eye roll and maybe a light smack on the arm, but she cut him off before he could consider if it would be worth it.

“I’m serious. Don’t think for one second and just tell me the first thing that comes to mind.

Run.

“Do you love Eddie?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to be with him?”

“Yes.”

Something warm and heavy settled in the front of his chest, spreading across his sternum like a blanket. Freedom, he realized, freedom and hope and contentment. He wasn’t as afraid of those words as he probably should have been.

“Would Eddie ever intentionally hurt you?”

“Never.”

More truth spilled from his lips as Carla questioned him and the warmth spread into his shoulders and curled down his back.

“Would he ever lie in order to lead you on, or in any way hurt you?”

“No.”

“Do you want him to have meant it?”

“Yes.”

“If the two of you were together, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“We break up and I have to change stations and he never lets me see Christopher again.”

“What’s the best thing that could happen?”

“Everything.”

Upon his confession, he saw the same surprise on Carla’s face that she’d worn earlier: no judgement or hint at foreknowledge. Pure, quiet, realization.

“Oh you love him, love him.” He hadn’t realized it until she’d said it out loud – and part of him felt ridiculous for connecting with such a childish explanation – but it was as true as anything else he’d said in the safety of their stone wall. “You can’t keep that thing bottled inside. If there’s even a chance that he feels the same, you have to go for it.”

Easier said than done. “But what if”

“No buts, Evan Buckley.” He shut his mouth at her command. “When that boy is out of surgery, you are going to tell him that you love him, too. Do you understand me?” It was almost surreal to think of such a tender moment being turned into a threat, but he nodded with panicked fervor. “Good. And no talking yourself out of it between now and then, either. You’re telling that boy tonight or I will drag you into his hospital room and lock the door until you do. Although you’re more than welcome to lock the door yourself once you’ve made your confession. No pulling his stitches, though.”

Buck had no idea his skin to blush that shade of red, but as images of all the reasons he might need to lock him and Eddie inside a room for privacy tumbled through his mind, he felt his entire body boil over from the heat.

“Carla!” He admonished with a smirk.

“Honey, if I looked half as good as either of you, I wouldn’t have been able to hold out as long as you both have. Honestly, your resistance is impressive.” He would never tire of her honest commentary (she hadn’t been the first to notice Eddie’s quote ‘perfect bone structure’, but she was the first to say it out loud).

“And I think you’ve both earned a little happiness, don’t you?” That same honesty could hit him with just as much depth. Her talent was startling.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Damn right, you would.” She bumped his shoulder to pull a smile from within his nervous, terrified, hopeful body. “Now, are you going to be okay for the next few hours or do I need to bring your sister out here to give you another pep talk?”

Oh god, how would he explain this to Maddie without being mercilessly teased at their wedding reception? Slow your roll, there, Buckley (his inner thoughts sounded strangely like Bobby). Get through the night and see if you both make it to a first date. “I think I’ll be okay.”

And after saying it so many times in his life, Buck meant it in a rare burst of honesty that settled in his bones. Granted, he was still terrified out of his mind – because telling someone that they make the sun shine brighter for the very first time was never an easy task – but no matter the outcome, he knew he would be okay.

“Thanks, Carla.”

“Thank me by inviting me to the wedding.” As if she weren’t already near the top of his guest list.

--

It was to Eddie’s great shame that waking up in the hospital following his emergency appendectomy felt painless. The first time he’d opened his eyes completely, two very patient nurses had asked his questions while examining him with clinical precision. It was nothing he hadn’t experienced over and over in his time. The second time he’d opened his eyes, there were no nurses or questions; in fact, from the light outside the window in the open hallway, he would guess it to be early in the morning (despite the distinct lack of change inside the building. He had, unfortunately grown accustomed to opening his eyes to the harsh overhead lighting and constant yet distant noise of the machines. The post-pain-med-hangover was a distant memory, and the only sign that anything in his life had changed was a slight soreness in his side where he’d no doubt have another scar to add to his ever-growing collection.

That, and the hand squeezing his as he returned to consciousness. But feeling Buck by his side was not a sign that anything had changed. If anything, it was confirmation that he had returned to the land of the living.

He would save his questions of how he knew Buck’s hand from anyone else’s for another time. Or perhaps never (though if he were honest with himself, the concept of ‘never’ hurt his heart worse than the idea of ‘not you’). Right now, he focused on looking at the eyes which owned the hand massaging his knuckle just below the heart monitor attached to his finger. If he focused on his breathing, maybe the machine wouldn’t pick up on the way his heart skipped a beat when he saw Buck’s smiling face.

“Hey Bu-”

“I love you.”

There was no mistaking the sudden drop and double count on the monitor, but all Eddie could hear were Buck’s words repeating over and over in some sort of recursive loop.

Maybe he was still dreaming.

“What?”

He missed their connection, but the way his partner shot up and began slowly pacing the length of his bed was more concerning. “I was going to lead up to it but then I saw your face, and Carla told me that if I didn’t tell you when you woke up, she would lock me in here and I panicked a little.” His explanation was only mildly helping Eddie’s nerves, but he accepted what little context was provided. Something about Carla.

Okay, so he needed more information.

“Carla made you say that?” But why? Was this some sort of pity confession, or fear for his safety? She had been encouraging him to start dating again but coercing his best friend was a bit much.

“Yes. No.” Buck stopped and restarted his pacing every time his train of thought shifted tracks and frankly, Eddie wasn’t nearly awake enough to understanding what was going on.

“Buck, sit down, okay? Tell me from the beginning.”

As easily as though he’d made his own decision, Buck obeyed Eddie’s command and flopped into the seat – though he didn’t retake his friend’s hand, a fact from which Eddie attempted to hide his disappointment. With a long breath, Buck began his speech while Eddie watched his changing expressions with increasing awe.

“I don’t know how much you remember about yesterday or what you said before you went into surgery. I know you were pretty out of it from the pain meds and anesthesia but you said some things.”

Oh god, Eddie prayed for more anesthesia so he could go back to sleep and wake up in a world where he hadn’t embarrassed himself. He had no idea what those things were that he’d apparently said to Buck but from his demeanor the instant Eddie laid eyes on him, he knew it must have been something big.

“You asked me to look after Christopher if anything happened to you.”

Oh? That wasn’t too bad. “I meant that. I trust you.” If that was all he’d said, there was nothing to be worried about. He would have asked that of Buck regardless. It just made sense at this point. “Just promise you wouldn’t let my parents bully you into taking him back to Texas, okay? His home is here, now.”

Buck’s blush was awfully adorable in the sharp, white light (perhaps not all of the medication had worn off). “You, uh, you told me that, too.”

“Okay good, I mean it. We can make it official if you want? Sign the paperwork and everything.” He should take a look at his will anyways. He hadn’t had a chance to adjust it since before Shannon’s death and some things had definitely changed. Was that why Buck looked so anxious: he didn’t know how to ask Eddie for guardianship? That was an easy fix. So far, nothing had come up to explain what had prompted the sudden confession or Carla’s involvement.

“We could?”

“Of course.” He shrugged, careful of his wiring and newly acquired stitching. “I told you: there’s no one I trust more with my son than you.” He’d meant it then and, if anything, that belief had only grown with time.

“What about your heart?”

The one currently alerting the nurse’s station that it was beating uncontrollably? That heart?

“What about it?”

“Do you trust me with your heart more than anyone?”

“Buck, wha-”

“You also said,” Buck seemed to be powering through now, regardless of anything Eddie wanted to say. “You also said that if you were going to marry anyone else, it would be me.” Oh god. “And you said that you love me.” Oh god. “Did you mean it?” Oh. God.

The truth of it was that Eddie didn’t remember anything between experiencing a pain in his side as they walked into the grocery store and waking up to the two nurses hovering over him. He’d guessed it was a problem with his appendix but like many unpleasant things, he’d put off making an appointment too long and it had apparently come to bite him in the ass in the worst (and most expensive) way possible.

And on top of that, his subconscious mind was punishing him by letting slip the confession he’d been rolling around on his tongue for months.

Great.

He’d realized he was in love with Buck one night when they had been on an endless shift with too many calls involving high stakes and stupid people. He was beyond exhausted and frustrated, and every emotion seemed to take up residence in his shoulder muscles. Finally, they’d been freed to go home to their loved ones, except because of the late hour, his loved one was sleeping over with his friends. So, Eddie had no one to go home to – a fact which he had resigned himself to long ago – when he felt a familiar hand clap his back and, with a simple nod of his head, Buck invited him over for pizza and video games. And just like that: Eddie wasn’t alone any more. And just like that: Eddie realized he loved Buck.

For months, he’d wrestled over the depth of his emotions for the man currently watching his every expression. Was it just a crush born out of proximity? Was it a physical attraction coupled with a close friendship which would mean a less than successful romantic relationship? Was it loneliness and desperation? Was it a forever kind of love? Did it have to be in order to mean something important?

It had taken time, but eventually Eddie had come to the conclusion that Buck was more than a fling and worth more than mere physical attraction (though the man had been making frequent visits to his dreams of late and many of them involved the need to wash his sheets in the morning).

He was beginning to contemplate the notion of possibly thinking about telling Buck how he felt, when his appendix decided to do it for him. And now here was Buck, looking him in the eyes – those eyes that were like the ocean in a storm – to ask him if he’d meant it when he’d said that he loved him, despite not remembering making that very significant confession.

And on top of that: Buck’s first words in response to that very significant confession, was to tell Eddie that he loved him. Because of Carla. Somehow.

“Why did Carla make you say…what you said?” Dare he get his hopes up? Dare he allow himself to believe that the things Buck said were said in earnest?

“She didn’t make me say it, I wanted to say it, but she told me if I chickened out when you woke up, she would lock me in here until I did.” If anyone asked him the colour of the sky, he would have no earthly idea what the sky even was. The only thought that existed in his mind were five words.

“You wanted to say it?”

Buck’s cheeks really did turn a lovely shade of pink when he was flustered. “Yeah, Eddie, I wanted to say it. And I wanted to hear you say it. Just not when you were being wheeled into surgery.”

“It wasn’t how I planned on saying it, either.” He muttered his confession despite barely regaining consciousness from losing all other thought.

“But you meant it?”

Buck reiterated the question Eddie had yet to answer because it felt like reaching a door that would disappear once opened. But wasn’t that the real question: did he want to open the door?

“Yes.”

The smile on his partner’s face was warm enough to soothe the cool remnants of their parted hands, and Eddie felt his own expression soften and expand from just the sight of the other man’s joy.

“Good.” Buck whispered. “I love you, too. By the way.”

If laughter didn’t threaten to pull his stitches, he would have joined in the bubbling happiness that filled the room. Instead, he resigned himself to watching the man he loved – the man who loved him back – relax into their shared knowledge that things would be all right between them.

Not that he ever truly worried. Things with Buck weren’t always easy but they always found that world again: one where they were both too frightened to speak their hearts and minds, but the universe brought them together anyways.

Grocery store appendectomies were decidedly not on his list of ways to confess his love. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

[set-phasers-to-whump]

hiding

prompt: hidden

whumpee: shawn spencer

fandom: psych

hi! sorry for being absent for 2 days and then coming back with a fic that i think might suck? idk. i have been looking at it for too long i think... maybe you will like it? idk. i hope so tho :) 

Shawn has chased more than one old man down the streets of Santa Barbara. Today’s pursuit is no different to the others - or at least, it isn’t until he finally catches up with the old dude in question (who, just for the record, is the fastest seventy year old Shawn has ever encountered). 

They’re in an alley, and the other end is blocked off by several feet of chain link fence. This old guy may be speedy, but he’s evidently not much of a climber. Which is good. 

“Took you long enough to catch up with me,” he says, his creaky-sounding old-man voice taunting and a little demeaning. 

But his statement is fair. As is evidenced by the fact that Shawn is panting hard, bent slightly at the waist with his hands on his knees as he catches his breath. 

“But I did catch you,” Shawn says after a second, straightening back up. “And now I’m going to have to call the police.”

“I don’t think so.”

Shawn is about to say something dazzlingly witty in response, but all of a sudden there’s a glint of silver and then…

Then he’s just been stabbed by someone who probably eats his dinner at 4:30. 

It takes him by such surprise that he doesn’t even make a noise.  

And then it hurts. Hot and blinding and sharp and intense pain radiates outward from his stomach and the knife is pulled out and it hurts even more and he feels his body collapse but doesn’t register hitting the ground. There are stars in his vision and everything is blurry and the world sounds like he’s underwater and it hurts and hurts and hurts and he looks upwards as the old man casually wipes Shawn’s blood from the knife with the sleeve of his dark jacket. He idly passes the knife from hand to hand and Shawn watches him and he really wants to just get up and punch him and he staggers to his feet amidst a haze of bright red pain and then there’s a familiar voice from behind him saying, “drop your weapon,” and Lassiter has found them, somehow. He’s never been more grateful to hear the man’s voice in his life. 

“How did you find me?” he asks, before he can stop himself. He knows what he should probably be saying is, hey, I just got stabbed and maybe we should be doing something about that, but then Lassie’s explaining how he’d tracked Shawn down and he’s asking what exactly Shawn had been thinking going after a suspect alone, and then Shawn just kind of…doesn’t bring it up. 

It’s not like he doesn’t try to. But Lassie is more interested in lecturing him about proper police procedure (which Shawn is familiar with - he simply chooses to disregard it). 

“Lassie, um, I -” I got stabbed and it hurts really bad and could we maybe go to the hospital, please?

“I don’t wanna hear it, Spencer.”

“But -”

“If you don’t shut up right now, I swear I’ll pull over and make you walk. That man had a knife, and you chased after him because, what? You couldn’t…”

Lassie keeps lecturing him about why this was such a stupid idea (which, Shawn admits, it was). Shawn sighs to himself as the lecture goes on and on, which is a bad move, because it jostles his stab wound, and it takes all of his willpower to not just scream at the flare of white hot pain. He closes his eyes and tries to breathe normally but everything hurts and the whole front of his shirt is wet and sticking to his skin and he wonders vaguely whether he’s bleeding on Lassie’s seat, and hopes fervently that he’s not, because Lassiter will never forgive him if he ruins his upholstery. 

After what feels like an eternity of driving, they arrive back at the police station. Shawn feels tired, and lightheaded, and he knows that’s bad. And they’re here now, so Lassie can’t force him to get out of the car and walk, so he decides to try and bring it up again. 

“I think I’ve -” I think I’ve been stabbed, well, I know I’ve been stabbed, and I don’t wanna die but I’m pretty sure I’ve lost a lot of blood and it might be nice to do something about that. 

But Lassie is already out of the car, opening the backseat and leading their cuffed suspect inside the building. Halfway up the steps, he turns around. Shawn is still in the car, and Lassie makes a gesture for him to hurry it up and follow them. 

Shawn steels himself for the pain, then extricates himself from the passenger seat. It’s a painful ordeal, but thankfully, no one is there to hear his very pathetic whimpers. Once he’s out of the car, Shawn briefly turns around to check on his seat. Fortunately, it’s free of blood. He looks down at himself and sees that his clothes have not fared quite as well. 

His black shirt looks wet, but the blood isn’t visible, thanks to the shirt’s dark color. The blood does reach down to his jeans, though, turning the tops of the legs rusty red. The inside of his jacket is damp, but the blood hasn’t soaked through the material, so the exterior looks clean. Shawn tugs his shirt and jacket down to hide the bloodstains on his jeans, then begins his trek inside. 

The walk into the station is one of the most painful things Shawn has ever experienced in his life. The stairs are absolute hell on his wound, and he can feel more and more blood soaking through his shirt with every step he takes. He’s slowly but surely getting dizzy, and it’s getting harder and harder to focus, and he really needs to tell someone about this but he kind of doesn’t want to, now, for reasons he can’t quite fathom, and mostly he just wants to sleep. It hurts. 

Finally, he makes it inside the station. There’s an empty chair pulled up next to Lassiter’s currently-empty desk, and Shawn makes a very slow beeline for it. 

Sitting down is painful, but once he’s sitting, it’s infinitely more comfortable than standing or walking, and the pain lessens, just a bit. Shawn takes another look down at himself and sees, much to his alarm, drops of blood on the floor below him. The sight makes him feel even dizzier, and for a second he thinks he might pass out, and then he recalls what you’re supposed to do if you get stabbed (other than, you know, call an ambulance). 

Pressure. He is supposed to apply pressure to the wound. It’s going to hurt, surely, but what’s a little more pain? 

Again, Shawn has to fight to keep himself from screaming. Despite the intense pain, he keeps pressing his hands into his stomach, feeling the warm and wet and sticky fabric of his shirt. It’s the most unpleasant sensation in the world. His own blood soaking through his clothes and into his hands. He feels sick. Dizzy. Lightheaded. Confused. Afraid. 

He needs to tell somebody about this before he actually passes out. 

“Spencer? What’s wrong with you?” 

Shawn startles at Lassiter’s voice. He sounds…oddly concerned. Hesitantly, Shawn turns his head in Lassie’s direction. Tell him, his brain suggests. 

He opens his mouth to say something, but is interrupted (again). 

“Are you…crying?”

Is he? Shawn raises a hand to his face and scrubs it under his eyes. 

“Is that blood?” Lassiter is all seriousness now, and Shawn looks down at his fingers and remembers what they’d been doing before he’d used them to wipe his face. They’re bright red and now that he sees the blood, he can feel it on his face, drying beneath his eyes. 

“What happened?”

“I got stabbed,” Shawn admits, finally. It’s such a relief to finally say the words, and he feels some of the tension leave his body. 

Oh. Maybe too much tension. He’s falling. 

Shawn’s body makes impact with the floor, and he can’t stop himself from crying out this time. For a second, everything is engulfed by a wave of pain that very nearly causes him to black out. 

When the pain clears up somewhat, Shawn’s vision returns, and Lassie is above him, shouting something at someone and Shawn can’t focus hard enough to determine what he’s saying or who he’s saying it to. His voice is loud and commanding but there’s a look of something akin to fear on his face and Shawn wonders if he is going to die. 

“Am I…” he starts, but halfway through the sentence he forgets what he’s going to say. 

“You’re going to be fine,” Lassiter says, and his voice sounds certain but that look is still on his face and it scares Shawn and he doesn’t want to die, not now, not like this…

Lassie must sense him spiraling, because suddenly he’s talking again. Shawn focuses on him as best as he can, catching bits and pieces of the things he’s saying. “I can’t believe you got stabbed and didn’t say a word about it…running after a known suspect…going to punish him to the full extent of the law…”

Lassie’s talking eventually fades away, and darkness starts creeping into the edges of his vision, and somewhere in the back of his mind Shawn thinks, that’s not good, and then the darkness sweeps over him and the pain goes away and he finally falls asleep. 

--

He wakes up and people are moving all around him, and he’s moving too, and he feels weird and he’s not exactly hurting but there’s some sort of strange sensation blanketing him and making it very hard to focus. He tries asking one of the people a question but his voice sounds muffled and he doesn’t know what he’s saying and then everything goes away again. 

--

The next time he wakes up, he is much more aware. He’s in a hospital, and there’s a teenage girl in the bed to his right and a middle-aged man in the bed to his left. There are various machines around him that he doesn’t care to inspect, and there are four chairs positioned around the bed. All of them are empty. 

He wonders where his visitors have gone. He wants to see Gus. And Jules. Maybe even his dad. He’d like to see Lassie, because he’s pretty sure the head detective had saved his life, but he doubts he’ll be here. He probably has much more important things to attend to. 

So it’s a surprise when, a few long minutes later, Lassie steps into the room. He’s distracted, phone to his ear, steaming cup in his hand, and there’s a spot of blood on his jacket and a few more on his shirt and Shawn realizes it’s his blood - who else’s can it be - and if that’s true then either he’s recovered from surgery remarkably quickly, or Lassie has been here for several hours and hasn’t left. Both seem improbable, and yet…

When he’s made it halfway across the room, Lassie finishes his call and tucks his phone back into his pocket. He looks up at Shawn for the first time, and the dark expression on his face clears away when Shawn looks right back at him. 

“Hey, Lassie,” Shawn greets tiredly, waving carefully with the arm that doesn’t have an IV needle sticking into it. “How’s it going?”

Lassie looks briefly like he wants to strangle Shawn for asking such a stupid question, but then he sighs and sinks down into one of the chairs, apparently resigning himself to answer the question. 

“It’s going fine,” he says. “I’m not the one who got stabbed and then failed to tell anyone about it.”

“I tried,” Shawn admits. “You interrupted me. And then you weren’t there and I just…didn’t want to tell anyone.”

A look of guilt crosses Lassiter’s face. “I should have listened to you,” he says, which is an admission Shawn never thought he’d hear. He’d love to focus on it a little more, maybe tease Lassie for caring or possibly even keep the conversation serious, but he’s tired. He feels his eyes start to drift closed and he yawns.

He’s about to ask Lassie if they can continue this conversation in a few hours when Lassie sighs and says, “just rest, Shawn. We can talk later, whenever you’re feeling up to it. I’ll be here.”

It’s the nicest thing Lassie has ever said to him. Shawn would like nothing more than to say something gently teasing about Lassie really caring about him after all, but he simply falls asleep instead.

thanks for reading this! sorry for any mistakes i am super tired lol. hope you enjoyed, love u <3

[theonetheycallhannah]

The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Chapter 13: SNAFU

Characters: Captain Syverson, various original minor/supporting characters.

Summary: Sy has some time to think about his past, present, and future while roughing it in the Virginia wilderness which leads him to a revelation about what he really wants…but is it too late?

Need to start from the beginning? Miss an update because Tumblr? Click me!

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings:  Mild language, mature themes, military and weapon terminology, discussion, and use. (For those who don’t know, SNAFU is a term coined in the military. It’s an acronym for “Situation Normal, All Fucked Up.” And since this is from Sy’s perspective, I thought a military term, as opposed to a therapy term would be appropriate.)

Author’s Note: Despite this being the longest chapter, clocking in at almost 5k, it was one of the easiest to write, and came the quickest. I love writing from Sy’s perspective, and the pure love he has for Shane. I’m hoping to be able to write a bit more of his POV before the story is complete. We’ll see. I apologize if it seems like one long rant about Sy’s feelings…I guess that’s what it is, with various activities peppered in. He can be a sensitive guy, and I wanted to show that. 

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism.

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Hope I’m not forgetting anyone! If you want to be notified when I post a new chapter or work, I’ll be happy to add you to my tag list! Stricken blogs are getting personal messages from me when a new chapter is uploaded because Tumblr’s faulty tagging system will not stand in the way of me delivering what the people want!(?) lol! (Although…their lackadaisical notification system might…sorry for that. I have no control. lol!)

X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@

Sy was no whimp. That much was certain. Missouri winters had toughened him up more than most men in his battalion and most of the participants in the training he was currently undertaking.

But it was more than that. Sy was uniquely prepared for the elements. He remembered a particularly harsh December night during Christmas break, before he joined the service when he was home alone and had to let the dog out. Fool that he was, he wore no shoes. Greater fool, he'd allowed the door to the back yard to close…and unfortunately, it had a tendency to lock. Which it did. He tried fruitlessly for a while to break back in, but being without a cell phone, he knew he'd have to walk a good distance for help with the lock.

He slipped out the gate and started up to the road, to follow it  to his grandparents a few miles away. The county road wasn't the best kind for walking, particularly barefoot in the late fall, but his feet were soon too numb to feel the gravel and whatever else was lacerating the soles of his feet. After about an hour, he made it there, shivering, knocking frantically and waking his frail old grandparents up to rescue him from his own negligence. He'd regret that until the day he died. Not that they were angry about it. They shrugged it off. His grandma cleaned the blood and dirt from his feet and bandaged the shallowed abrasions. They didn't look too bad, considering the area they lived in and the trash that could have been waiting to carve him up. Then she set about cleaning up Sy's messy footprints from her normally immaculate floor. Grandpa looked all over for their spare keys to Sy's and his mom's house, and finally found them. He lent him a pair of shoes, drove him back home, and let him in the house. After that, Sy found himself eager to spend time outdoors during colder weather. As if determined to build up a tolerance to it in case he ever found himself in such a situation again.

Now, despite the time of year being only late August, it was unseasonably cool, especially at night, as if Christmas was right around the corner, and Sy was wishing more and more that he had someone to cuddle with during the nights he'd be doing cross country training here at the beautiful Shenandoah National Park. He had packed only the essentials for the expedition, a mess kit, bed roll, canteen, modest rations, first aid supplies, et cetera, plus a rope and a tarp for building a shelter. On his person, he had a compass, a topographical map of the park with checkpoints indicated, waterproof, strike-anywhere matches, a hunting knife, a tactical knife, an M17 pistol, and three .9mm clips. He was also given a flare gun to use in case he got stuck for any reason and needed extraction.

On his first night in the wilderness, he'd taken a lot of time falling asleep. Thinking.

He thought about his last week at home. He wondered how Mr. and Mrs. Stevens were doing with Aika. Shane had offered to watch her, and he considered it. He had appreciated her eagerness to help after her…less than enthusiastic response to hearing about this trip. But he decided since Aika had a close relationship already with Fred and Caroline, and she was still getting to know Shane, they'd better be the ones to take her. She understood, and had offered the second reason that since she worked so much, she wouldn't be able to give her the kind of attention she was used to. That had made a lot of sense. He felt like kind of a bad dog parent for not thinking of it, himself.

He thought about the week he'd been here already at the compound. His first day filling out paperwork, he was asked for an emergency contact. He was used to putting his mom…but she wasn't in the best of health, herself. He had nobody. Nobody but Shane. He put her down, instead of his mom. He thought about the seminars on company approved methods of subduing and detaining targets and combatants. He should have taught Shane some self-defense moves before he left. She could handle herself, and she'd proven so, but still. A refresher, or an advancement on one's skills was always a good idea. But he was sure she'd be fine. He thought about her the most in the torturous policy and procedure lecture. What he wouldn't'a given to have her here with him. She would have made everything fun. And she would have been a way better study partner than Keith. Keith, a Navy vet from Little Rock was a good guy…he just…didn't get Sy's jokes. He was a very literal kind of thinker, and it took extra effort for Sy to communicate with folks like that.

Shane, though…he and Shane wouldn't have gotten too much done, study-wise. They would have been…distracted.

As he hiked along the trails to his first checkpoint, he breathed in the clean, crisp air and stopped at the odd overlook here and there. The park was nestled on the outer edge of the Blue Ridge Mountains, and they were too gorgeous not to appreciate while he was here. He found himself…uniquely emotional. He didn't feel lonely often, but since he'd met Shane, he'd hardly gone two days without seeing her, even if it was for just an hour. She'd love all of this. She'd probably want a tent, and coffee in the mornings, so they wouldn't be able to travel quite as light, but they'd make it work. Maybe one day they'd take a trip like this. Just for fun. No checkpoints. No deadlines. No semi-automatic weapons…well, honestly, he'd probably still bring a gun, anyway. You never did know about people these days, he thought. Of course, that's probably what people think of me carrying a pistol, he also thought…anyway, he was almost to the checkpoint.

Said checkpoint was a big tent, like the ones they sold fireworks out of leading up to Fourth of July. Inside there was a single lane shooting range set up down one half of the tent. On the other half, there were stations set up with dismantled weapons that you had to assemble in a certain amount of time. Someone had beaten him to the range, so he started with the guns. No problems whatsoever. He was familiar more or less with all of the models, or some version of them. When the previous participant, a small blonde woman, had finished on the range, Sy stepped up to the counter.

The attendant reset the target for Sy so he could do a close range shot, then again for mid and long range ones. He shot well, although he still wasn't used to the lighter weight of the SIG Sauer M17s the armed forces switched to back in 2017. They'd offered him an M18 at the compound, but he favored the heaver pistol, instead. Maybe the M18 was more packable, but Sy just didn't feel right firing a weapon that felt like a feather in his hand. If it was up to him, he'd take a Colt Python .357 Magnum Revolver. That, however, was more than just a question of how the firearm felt in his hand. Being out in the wilderness like this made him think back to how it must have been before these lands became civilized and gentrified. Back to the days of the cowboy, Wyatt Earp and the OK Corral. Back when it was just the wild and free land he could pretend it was now. He thanked the attendant, who was writing his name on his targets to take back to the compound along with his graded weapon assembly timesheets, and then was back on his way.

There was an eerie beauty about this unsullied land, he thought, as the dusk fell the second night of the excursion and he began setting up his camp about halfway between the first and second checkpoints, by his estimation. With his fire built and his shelter up, Sy took out some of his rations, cured meat, hard cheese, and some walnuts, and had a light supper before cleaning his gun and turning in while the ground still held some heat from the waning sun, wishing again as the cold set in that his woman was there to warm him.

His sleep was fitful. And he awoke before dawn, from dreams he couldn't remember but which still left him feeling empty. They must have been about her. He was starting to feel regret. The last time he'd seen Shane, he'd said some things that he meant to be selfless. But he didn't mean them. He meant the parts about loving her, of course. But the last thing he wanted was to come home and find her moved on with someone else. He couldn't stand to think about it. As he walked into the next checkpoint area, the range was already set up for close range firing. He riddled the target with .9mm holes and could barely wait until the attendant got the fresh sheet set to mid range before he began firing.

"How about you let me fully clear the lane before you start on the long range target, okay, Syverson?"

"Sorry, man. I'm a little…on edge today. Won't happen again."

The short, sandy-haired buck trotted out to replace the riddled sheet with one more for the long range leg, pulled it down and lacked it in to long range position, then hoofed it back up to safety, sensing the captain's impatience. Sy shot cleanly, but with cold anger, as if the silhouette on the page out there was trying to take Shane away from him. He put two square in the chest, and two in the head without hesitating.

"Man, I've never seen a long range shoot like that! What's the deal, you pissed at an ex, or something?" Sy checked the man's lapel for a name tag.

"Not exactly, Mister…Daniels."

"Call me Jack." they shook hands, and Sy chuckled, questioning.

"I'm Sy. You're name is Jack…Daniels?"

"Yes sir. No relation to the Lynchburg Daniels, unfortunately. Momma wanted to name me after her granddad, and my old man, well, he had no problem with it given his affinity for the spirit."

"A wise man, your dad. Some of my best nights have included Tennessee Number 7." He didn't elaborate, but he was getting very specific flashbacks of drinking games in his kitchen with Shane. And he was gonna have to shake it off before the weapons assembly drill, or else he'd end up putting together an assault rifle backward.

He made it through without any trouble, thank the good Lord. But that didn't mean that his mind wasn't still reeling. He was thinking of Shane and the possibility that she was being courted by Chris Evans look-alikes and young Harrison Ford doppelgangers, and it was making him furious. He was pretty sure that she was about as interested in taking a break as he was, but he couldn't help himself from making the offer under the circumstances. He kicked himself as he made his camp for the evening, not very far away from the third checkpoint, but too far away to get there by dusk when the daily deadline was. He was a shoe in to get there first in the morning, though, if he was reading his map correctly, and he was damn good at maps, if he did say so, himself. And who would bitch at him for bragging out here, anyway. The odd cricket or squirrel? He didn't think so.

It was colder tonight, and he was thankful that he thought to boil some water for his canteen and put it at his feet. He curled his surly, burly body up under the layers of blanket and thermal sheeting. He was almost warm enough…but he still needed something.

His sleep was plagued by strange dreams that he unfortunately remembered tonight. The scene began with Shane in a bright pink dress and matching gloves, dripping with diamonds, like Marilyn Monroe in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes. She looked so glamourous and beautiful, but she was getting passed from man to man to the tune of Madonna's Material Girl, which was not the correct song, and he knew it in that moment, but couldn't correct anyone, because it was all playing out on the big screen TV in his basement. When he realized this he turned it off and noticed a familiar head of hair on his lap and stroked it, about to say "Hey, sunshine." until the figure sat up and looked at him, and it was Jordan, the PTA, batting his eyelashes at him, and asking, "You ready for bed, babe?"  The therapist leaned in for a kiss, but Sy leaned back, tumbled off the couch and landed on those crutches again, standing right in front of Shane in the lobby of the therapy clinic.

"Hey sunshine." he said warmly. She looked confused.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?"

"Well…I should hope so…it's me. Sy."

"Sorry, not ringing any bells. I'll look you us and see who you're with, though. Usually Heather tells the new patients which therapists they get their first day. What's your last name?"

He felt like he was getting kicked in the gut with a soccer cleat worn by the Incredible Hulk. He answered with defeat.

"Sy's a nickname. Last name Syverson, first name Logan."

"Oh, there you are. Looks like Cory gets to take care of you today. I'll let him know you're ready. As long as you're all done with the secretaries?"

Sy nodded and collapsed to the floor blacking out. When he woke up, his neighbor, Mr. Stevens was standing over him, insisting it was time for him to get ready. He kept handing him things to put on. Pants, a nice shirt, a vest, a light blue tie, a jacket, nice shoes. The whole enchilada. They got out of Fred's car at a little white chapel outside which, his neighbor pinned a small boutonniere of powder blue hydrangeas to his lapel and walked in with him.

"Come on, boy. She'll be here any minute."

Sy was nervous, but excited. He was obviously marrying Shane. But he couldn't remember proposing, or planning the wedding, or an engagement party, or bachelor party, or rehearsal dinner, nothing…but none of that mattered. He heard the first notes of "Here Comes the Bride" and everything faded away, anyway. He began to cry as she got closer. She was moving slowly, he presumed out of nerves. Or perhaps she'd chosen the wrong shoes. It didn't matter. They'd dance the night away barefoot, and make love until dawn. He wished her veil wasn't so thick. He couldn't even see her bouquet. Let alone her stunning face, no doubt smiling as she cried with him. When she stood in front of him, he broke protocol and removed the veil to find Aika in a white dress on her hind legs panting, tongue lolling happily to one side.

"You may now kiss the bride." said the wizened old minister, causing Aika to knock Sy to the ground licking his face until he blacked out again.

This time, he woke to the chirping birds of a mountain morning in Virginia. His campfire long snuffed, his canteen now chilled as his blood. Those dreams…those were traumatic. He didn't want Shane to see anyone else. The thought of seeing anyone else himself repulsed him. Thinking about what his life would have been like if they'd never gotten to work together made him physically ill, and he was terrified that if he didn't act on these feelings, he'd end up with no one but his dog. Why did it take a trip out of state and all these nights of solitude to figure this out? She was all that mattered. He could dig ditches, flip burgers, get a teaching certificate and coach, or teach gym. Whatever. He also liked history. He could think of something if the people at Secure Source couldn't keep him in consistent work. It would be fine. He understood his purpose now. And it wasn't just to do his duty to his country. He'd served proudly for years. He had a new purpose now. And it was her.

He packed up camp in what he was sure was record time and hauled ass to the last checkpoint where the brass should be waiting for finishers. He was the first one there this morning, but he wasn't sure if anyone had made it yesterday. He didn't try to make small talk with the attendant today. He was on a legit mission to get back to his locker at the compound, turn his phone on and call Shane. He fired four shots, but only made two holes on the long range target. One in the chest, one in the head. The attendant was impressed, giving the highest possible grade.

"Man, Syverson. I pray I never do anything to piss you off."

Sy nodded in acknowledgement and went on to the weapons drill booths. Today, there were distracting sound effects playing on a speaker in each booth, and each one was different. Sy ignored the cacophony, pretending it was white noise, and focused on the puzzles at hand, breezing through the new weapons in better time than ever.

As his cards were being scored and turned in for review to Jane Freitag, the administrator over acquisitions and training, he got himself a cup of coffee and a doughnut, and just observed her, tactically, and objectively. She was a redhead with sharp features, freckles, and light eyes. She was slender, but dressed simply, and modestly. The consummate professional. Sy had honestly barely registered her gender, and it wasn't because she wasn't beautiful. She was. Full red lips, lashes for days, and although her clothes didn't exactly accentuate her shape, he could tell he had a decent figure. He just wasn't interested. And would never be interested in anyone but Shane again. Miss Freitag startled him out of his thoughts.

"Mr. Syverson." She beckoned him to the entrance to the tent near her vehicle.

He picked up his gear and coffee and trotted over to her.

"Ma'am?"

"Jane, please."

"Sy, then, for me. What's next on the agenda?"

"Well, you're the first participant across the finish line. I'm very impressed. It seems as though you almost could have finished last night."

"Yes, ma'am, if I hadn't taken a little extra time for sightseeing, I might have made it here by dusk last night. I just haven't had the hustle I had today."

"Well, that's nothing to sneer at. Normally, the deprivation of food, regular water supply, and proper sleeping conditions make participants sloppy. The opposite seems to be true for you, as you've done better at each checkpoint than the one before. Now, let's get back to the compound and get you a proper meal, and a shower, and talk about what's next for you here at Secure Source."

"Yeah, about that. Before we go much further with this, I need to know one thing."

"What's that?"

"I need to know if you'll be able to find me work near enough to St. Robert and the base there so that I don't have to relocate and travel all the time.  I've got a life there, and…it's not something I can just pick up and move on a whim, and I don't want to be away for weeks and months at a time. I know I made this trip work, but I'm praying it didn't already ruin everything." He wasn't going to waste time mincing words. He needed to know right away or else this wouldn't work.

"Sy, with your talent…they're gonna want to put you on the high profile cases. Celebrity security. Concerts, movie premiers, things like that. You'll be wasted as a small town rent-a-cop." there was true concern in her face and her voice as she drove them out of the park and onto the main road to Secure Source's compound.

"If there's a need I can fill, how is that a waste? There's lots of talent in this program. Just 'cause I finished first don't mean I did it the best. And I'm sure most of these folks have the people skills to take them farther'n me. And if you wanna gimme first crack at those, I'll hear ya out. Just…let me reserve the right to turn down the out of town jobs. Especially if they're short notice. And if it takes me away from another security job, I want you to send me a replacement a few days in advance so I can meet 'em, train 'em, and introduce 'em around."

"Seems reasonable." Jane said.

"Well, alright, then. I think we got ourselves a deal. I'll shower up in the locker room real quick, then meet ya in the commissary for a sandwich so we can handle the particulars?"

"Sure, Sy." she agreed as they pulled into the parking structure.

They went their separate ways, Jane to her office, and Sy to the quartermaster to return his supplies and get the key to his locker. He practically danced there, he was so giddy to get to call Shane. He did need a quick shower first, though. Which he took, grabbing some shampoo and soap out of his travel bag. When he got back to his locker, towel around his waist, he replaced the products and grabbed his phone. He sat on the bench between the rows of lockers as it booted up.

When it did, it began alerting him as if it's life depended on it. Three text messages, three voicemails, … and twenty four missed calls. That was odd. Maybe a telemarketer had gotten his number.

He checked the texts first. One was a picture of Aika from Fred, his neighbor, the other two were from Shane…two days ago. The day he went into the park.

Hey, hope you have a great first day of Survivor: Virginia! Lol! Be safe! I love you!

OMG, nutty day today! I'm gonna be doing notes for hours! I'll text you in the morning! <3

And then nothing…he chuckled at Survivor: Virginia, but was a bit concerned. Maybe she'd decided not to waste time texting him if he wasn't going to respond? He didn't know. Maybe some of the calls or voicemails were from her. He'd check before calling.

One from his mom, one from the Stephen's house phone, and the rest were from Fort Wood Therapy. That was weird. He was discharged and didn't have any appointments…surely he wasn't missing any…Shane would have said something. He listened to the voicemails. The first one was from Heather.

"Hey, Sy, it's Heather, Shane's friend here at therapy. Hey, give me a call when you get this. Thanks."

Weird…the next one was from Susan, Shane's boss. In the same tone.

"Captain Syverson, it's Susan DeForrest here at Fort Wood Therapy Clinic. Please give us a call when you get this. Thank you."

Again, weird. The last one was Susan again and far less friendly and measured.

"Mr. Syverson. I don't know what kind of game you're playing, but you need to bring Shane back to work and stop screwing around. One or both of you is in serious trouble. Either you're being hot-lined for abduction or she's fired for not showing up for work. The choice will be hers." and the line went dead.

Sy felt his stomach twist into nauseated knots at Susan's words. Shane hadn't been to work. For how long? He had to call them. He didn't want to think about the horror that might have befallen Shane while he'd been away.

"Fort Wood Therapy Clinic, this is Heather, how may I help you?" Heather said, trying to hide the obvious worry beneath the cordial demeanor.

"Heather, it's Sy, what the hell's going on with Shane? What do you mean, she hasn't been to work, I don't…"

"Let me give you to Susan, Sy. I'm sorry." She added the last two words in a whisper. After a brief moment on hold, Susan picked up.

"So, Mr. Syverson. Finally decided to call us back?"

"Cut it out, Susan." He let her blatant ignorance of his rank slide in favor of getting to the point. "Tell me what's going on."

"Shane left work Monday and hasn't been back since. No one has seen her. Apart from you, I presume. I knew letting her date a patient would come back to bite me. I should never have--"

"Shut up! This isn't about you, and it isn't because of you. And you had no right to tell Shane who she could and couldn't date, anyway. I haven't seen her in about a week and a half. I'm training out of state for a job. I've been away from my phone since Monday, and I just got back to it now."

"She isn't…with you? I assumed…"

"Well, you know what they say, Susan. I'm coming back early if I can manage it. See if I can do something to help find her. Thanks for calling me. I know your intentions weren't the best when you did, but ultimately, it worked out. I may not have found out otherwise, at least until… much later."

He hung up before she could respond. He had to talk to Jane about cutting his training short. This was all his fault. If he had just come to the realization of just how important, how vital Shane really was to him before he left…well he never would have gone in the first place. She was his life now. His world. His future, and his whole heart. Tears stung his eyes as he dressed to meet Jane in the commissary. She'd have to be okay with this. She'd have to understand.

As he got closer to the smell of fry oil, seasonings, and sizzling meat on a griddle, aromas that usually made his stomach grumble with hunger, he had to swallow back the bile that crept up his throat. He found her seated at a small round four-top, already eating a salad. He sat across from her, startling her from whatever she was reading on her phone, and again when she looked at his expression and complexion.

"Sy, what's wrong? You look downright green!"

"Listen, Jane, I'm going to have to leave training early." She scowled at him, but he was more concerned with the putrid smells of boiled egg and onion coming off her chef salad. He had to get this over with quick before he wretched in the middle of the mess hall.

"That's a big ask, Sy. Gonna have to have a reason."

"I just got a call that my girlfriend is missing. I need to go home and help find her."

"Oh…yeah, that's…that's some reason. I'm really sorry to hear that. Any leads so far?"

"No, I just got off the phone with her useless boss and all she told me was that she hasn't been to work since Monday and can't be reached on her phone. I have my suspicions, but I wanna talk to the authorities."

"Okay, well. Maybe when things calm down at home, we can set you up with some online courses like we do for our assets who need refreshers, but are on assignment. I'll approve that for you."

"Thanks," he said, gratefully, "I'm also wondering if the company has any…transportation solutions for me…of an immediate nature?"

"Man, what were your letters to Santa like as a child?"

"Oh, you know, a little red wagon, end of poverty, world peace…that kind of stuff." he grinned his most charming grin.

"Why am I not surprised? Okay, but you have to return the favor somehow, Sy."

"How about, one assignments of your choosing, no questions asked?"

"Hmmm, what about five assignments?"

"Three?" he countered.

"Done." they shook hands across the table. "I would have settled at two." she smirked.

"I would have done ten." he winked at her as he turned to retrieve his belongings from his bunk and locker. He had a plane…or perhaps a chopper to catch.

Up Next: Chapter 14: No Call No Show

[iamtrebleclefstories]

Every Day I Love You More - Ch. 7

Chapter 7 - THE ANNOUCEMENT

After having drunk sex, Jo and Alex are having a baby. An actual baby. Here’s how everyone finds out

Sequel to I’m Happy Here with You 

Sometimes the perfect bubble bursts

Jo had finally done it. She’d made it to twelve weeks and the list of people who knew about her pregnancy was smaller than she’d anticipated, considering the way gossip spread around the hospital. Jo and Alex had an early morning OB appointment where they would be having the twelve-week ultrasound. After some discussion, the pair had decided that announcement featuring a copy of the ultrasound would be the best way to announce to the rest of their friends and coworkers the news of their impending parenthood.

 When she’d woken up that morning, Jo turned to see Alex staring at her with a giant grin on his face, “Good morning.”

 “Hey,” Jo yawned. “How long have you been staring at me? It’s kind of creepy.”

 “Not long. I just woke up a few minutes ago and I noticed something when I went to put my arm around you,” Alex picked up the covers to reveal to Jo’s small frame. He placed a hand on her abdomen. “Look. It’s super tiny, but it’s there.”

 Jo gasped as she looked down to see the smallest curve of her belly, “It’s a bump.”

 “It’s a bump,” Alex nodded happily. “Most people probably won’t even notice at all because it’s so small, but you’re starting to show.”

 “Holy crap, Alex we’re having a baby,” Jo exclaimed with wide eyes. “I mean, I already knew that, but it’s so much more real now. There’s a baby inside of me, right now.”

 “Yup,” Alex chuckled as he watched Jo go through the shock all over again. “I can’t wait to see our baby today.”

 “Me too,” Jo smiled. She really was excited to see the grainy image that they’d be going in for today. She’d only known about her pregnancy for about a month, but already she was overwhelmed with love for this baby. “I think I’m going to burst with the love I feel and it kind of terrifies me.”

 “Same here,” Alex’s face pulled up into a soft smile. “I love the two of you so much that I know I’d lose it if anything happened to either of you. For the first time in my life, I feel like everything makes sense and that’s thanks to you. You gave me something I didn’t even know I was missing. Thank you.”

 “You’re giving me something too,” Jo leaned forward and pressed her forehead against his. “For the first time in my life, I have a family. I real family. That’s all I ever wanted.”

 They spent as long as they could in the bed together before getting up to prepare for their appointment. Thirty minutes and some great shower sex later, the two of them stumbled downstairs in a fit of giggles.

 Cristina—who’d been standing in the kitchen as she ate her bagel—wrinkled her face in disgust, “Blegh… You know you two could be a little quieter? I know that you’re all happy and lovey-dovey because there’s a baby on the way but come on. I could hear you all the way down here.”

 “Oh, you’re one to talk. I distinctly remember making animal noises at you from this very kitchen because you and Hunt couldn’t keep your hands off each other,” Jo teased. “Someone howled that night.”

 “Whatever,” Cristina scowled and took another bite into her bagel.

 “Dude, look at what came in this morning!” Alex brought Jo close and pulled her shirt taut against her body, highlighting the tiny curve of her stomach. His face broke out into a large grin. “Jo’s starting to show.”

 Cristina’s eyebrows shot up, “Wow, look at you, hairball. All cute and pregnant. I wouldn’t be surprised if your bump popped out for real sometime within the next couple weeks.”

 “Ugh, that means I’m going to be getting fat soon.”

 “Not fat, babe. Just growing a human,” Alex encouraged. “You’re going to look great.”

 “You guys have another appointment today, right?” Cristina asked.

 “Yeah, we’re going to ask for another ultrasound so that we can use the picture to announce the pregnancy since Jo is officially in her second trimester. That and way too many people already know so it’s best we just come out with it,” Alex shared.

 “Make sure you give Mer a copy. She’s gonna want to put it on the fridge,” Cristina reminded.

 “Already made a note to ask for three copies of the sonogram,” Jo said as she reached around Cristina to grab the cream cheese. “I think we’re gonna need more bagels. Some more cream cheese, too. The baby is constantly asking for bagels. Mac and cheese, too. Not the boxed kind though. The baby is in the mood for real, baked mac and cheese.”

 Cristina and Alex exchanged a look, both amused at Jo’s pregnancy cravings, “I can go get the bagels and cream cheese at the store after work today. But you do know that none of us really know how to cook right, babe?”

 “I’m sure Kepner would be willing to make the mac and cheese for you. She’s nice like that. Especially after she finds out you’re pregnant, that’s it,” Cristina made a motion with her hands. “You’re probably going to receive a different type of casserole every week because she knows that we don’t cook.”

 “She’ll look at us in horror when she realizes what we’ve been feeding you,” Alex joked.

 “You guys are laughing now, but you won’t be later when I’m eating the entire casserole by myself,” Jo took another bite of her bagel. “Baby and I don’t share food.”

 ———

 “Alright, so everything looks great. You are right on track for twelve weeks and seem to be doing very well,” Lucy smiled as she wiped the excess jelly off of Jo’s stomach. “I also see that you got a tiny bump. When did that show up?”

 “I noticed it this morning,” Alex grinned. “I woke up a couple minutes before she did and went to put my arm around her when I felt the little curve that wasn’t there before.”

 “That’s so exciting. I always love when parents get to see the bump for the first time. Suddenly, it’s all very real. Did you have a moment like that?” Lucy asked.

 “I did. This morning, actually,” Jo answered, looking a bit embarrassed.

 “You see? I know what I’m talking about,” Lucy pulled up the ultrasound photos and handled them over to Jo. “Alright, so I normally wouldn’t recommend this unless I thought something was wrong, but Jo, since we don’t have medical history, I was wondering if you’d like undergo a CVS to check for any genetic abnormalities. You’re right about the typical gestation for this procedure. If you don’t want to do that, then we can just go ahead with the typical NIPT blood screening test.”

 “I want the CVS,” Jo nodded. “It’s one thing for me to not know, but when in comes to this baby? The thought of not knowing scares the crap out of me.”

 “Okay, I can do it right now. I’ll be right back,” Lucy walked out of the room leaving the young couple to have the space for themselves.

 “Are you sure? You don’t have to do this,” Alex rubbed circles on the back of Jo’s hand.

 “Yeah, I am. Like I said, Alex. Me not knowing is one thing, but when it comes to our kids? I don’t want to not know,” Jo sighed.

 “Our kids? As in plural? You want to have more kids with me?” Alex paused to stare at Jo.

 “What did you think I’m gonna give birth to this maybe and be like, ‘thanks for being my baby daddy, but time to move on the the next one,’” Jo laughed. “Yes, I want to have kids with you. More than one. I see the way you are with me and our little bean, I see how you are with your patients, and it really makes me wanna have kids with you. Whether we stay together forever or not, you’re my best friend. I trust you more than anyone.”

 Alex felt his heart swell. He looked at Jo with the softest expression on his face, “I love you. I plan on being with you until you get sick of me. And if it’s what you want, we’ll have tons of kids.”

 “So many of them,” Jo grinned brightly. “The family we never had.”

 Alex leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead and placed his hand on her belly, “The family we never had.”

 Lucy—who’d heard the tail end of the couple’s conversation—smirked as she walked back into the room, “You know, it still freaks me out when I hear you talk like that. Wilson, you have done the one thing that women have tried and failed at doing for decades—taming Alex Karev.”

 “I think I’ll take that as a compliment.”

 Lucy proceeded to perform the procedure as quickly and carefully as possible, “Alright. You are all set. We should have the results in about a week. It’ll give us a thorough diagnostic so that we can know what we’re dealing with before the baby arrives. You’ll also get to find out the sex of the baby by then. I call you when they’re in and you can come down here to retrieve them. Until then, I’ll see you next week.”

 ———

 Jo and Alex were shaking with excitement as they walked down to the attendings lounge to reveal their news to those who hadn’t yet heard it. Alex had paged all his friends down there in hopes of only having to make the announcement twice, once for the attendings and once for the residents.

 When they entered the room, Jo and Alex made eye contact with an already present Meredith who came up and whispered quietly, “Today’s the day?”

 “Yup,” Jo let out a shaky breath. “And yes, I have your copy of the sonogram. It’s in my purse. I’ll give it to you before we leave.”

 Meredith let out a tiny squeal and hugged Jo briefly, “Thank you!” She let go and sat back down on the couch as the rest of the doctors piled into the room.

 “You know, Meredith being nice to me is really freaking me out,” Jo whispered to Alex.

 “Honestly, it kind of creeps me out too,” Alex snickered. “She’s never this nice to anyone. Not even Cristina or Derek. Maybe her kids, but—”

 He was interrupted by Jackson speaking, “Uh, Karev. Why did you page us all to the lounge?”

 Bailey looked at him strangely, “Is there a reason for all this?”

 “Yeah, I’m confused. Normally, I’m the one that pages everyone for meetings like this. And those meetings usually have to do with something I’ve been forced to clean up as chief,” Owen chuckled.

 “Oh God, don’t tell me you did something stupid. There’s only so much I can take from you,” Arizona eyes widened.

 “I promise I didn’t do anything stupid that you’re gonna be forced to clean up,” Alex waved his hands in mock surrender. “I actually did something pretty good this time.”

 “Well, what is it?” Webber looked at Alex expectantly.

 Jo and Alex looked at each other before glancing at the friends surrounding them. Some of them—Meredith, Cristina, Derek, and Callie—had sly expressions on their faces, while others—Arizona, April, Jackson, Bailey, Webber, and Owen—sported faced of confusion. Reaching into her purse for one of the ultrasound photos, Jo nodded at Alex.

 Alex took the small picture in his hand, covering it from view. He took a deep breath and turned the picture around, “Jo and I are having a baby.”

 The room erupted into a chorus of shouts, gasps, and laughter as everyone took in the news of the Karev child that would be on it’s way soon.

 “Oh my God!” Arizona gasped loudly. “No, you’re playing a trick on us. She’s not pregnant.”

 “Hand to God,” Jo replied, bright smile on her face.

 “Congratulations!” April laughed excitedly and gave Jo and Alex each a hug. “I’m so happy for you guys.”

 “Congrats, you two. You will make wonderful parents,” Owen gave them each a kind smile.

 “Alex Karev. A father. Well, I’ve heard it all,” Bailey chuckled. “This is great news.”

 “Thanks, Bailey,” Alex gave her a hug.

 “Your kid is gonna be so foul-mouthed and dirty and cute,” Arizona gushed with excitement.

 “You two, wasted no time whatsoever,” Jackson smirked and shook Alex’s hand. “Nice work man.”

 The doctors laughed at Jacksons comment. Arizona looked around the room and noticed that not everyone was as shocked as the rest of them were. She pointed to Meredith, Cristina, Callie, and Derek, “Wait. Why don’t they look surprised at this news?”

 “We all already knew,” Cristina responded nonchalantly. “I found the pregnancy test in the trash, Callie found out because of an x-ray incident, Alex let it slip to Derek, and Meredith found out because Derek thought she already knew.”

 “I can’t believe you told Callie and not me,” Arizona slapped Alex on the shoulder. “I thought we were friends.”

“Ow,” Alex rubbed his arm. “We are friends. Jo just wanted to wait until she was in her second trimester before we told anyone.”

 “Wait did you say her second trimester?” Richard wrinkled his brow. “I didn’t think you guys had been together that long.”

 “They haven’t,” Bailey narrowed her eyes. “Let me see that sonogram.” She took the picture from Alex’s hand and hummed. “That is a twelve-week ultrasound if I’ve ever seen one. Care to explain?”

 “Does it really matter?” Alex scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “All that matters is that we’re happy and in love and having a baby.”

 “What did you do?” Arizona looked back and forth between the couple.

 A couple snickers were heard from the ones already aware of what had occurred. They couldn’t wait until the rest of their coworkers discovered just how the baby had been conceived.

 Jo huffed a laugh, “You guys don’t really want to hear about our sex lives, now do you?”

 “Oh, come on Wilson. Just spit it out before I do,” Callie teased. “It’s a fantastic story.”

 “Well—we, uh… ha,” Jo struggled to get the news out. “We… accidently made a baby at Meredith’s birthday party before we ever got together.”

 “Now, this,” Bailey snorted in amusement and pointed at the pair. “This makes much more sense now.”

 The next few minutes were lighthearted as the couple found themselves the butt of a couple jokes. The sonogram got passed around the room until it found its way onto the lounge fridge, the words “Karev baby coming soon” sharpied on it.

 They got the same sorts of reactions from residents in the lounge. Stephanie—who had found out about Jo’s pregnancy days earlier was smug at the fact that she knew before the rest of the residents.

 “This is great you guys,” Ben congratulated the pair. “You are going to be wonderful parents.”

 “Thanks everyone,” Jo smiled, happy that the secret was out and that everyone seemed supportive.

 “Hey, so I’m gonna go and start rounding on patients,” Alex leaned over to give Jo a kiss. “You’re on my service, so change into your scrubs and meet me down in peds when you’re ready.”

 “Sounds good,” Jo replied.

 Jo put her belongings away in her locker and changed into her scrubs quickly. As she walked out the lounge, she reflected on the events that took place this morning. The day had only begun, but it was already probably one of the best days of her life. She felt like she was walking on air. The prospect of growing the little life inside her had Jo shaking with excitement, love, and expectancy as she made her ways down the hospital halls. It was as though nothing could bring her down from this high.

 “Hi, Brooke.”

 Jo felt her blood run cold. She knew that voice. She’d never forget that voice, no matter how much time had passed. Her husband’s voice was unmistakable.

 “Or should I say, Jo?” Paul sneered.

 And just like that, her perfect bubble had been shattered.

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AHHHHHHH!! So... a lot happened in this chapter. Let me know what you think and what you hope to see next!

[cosmiclatte28]

Tempo (Racer!reader x sehun, nct,  exo) #2

previous chapter 1

The next day Oh Sehun cannot enjoy his Sunday calmly. His mind constantly repeats the short encounter he had with (y/n) last night. Sehun still cannot believe his eyes, a girl who looks so innocent can do something that unexpected. He cannot forget that surprised feeling when he saw her behind the starting line... looking fragile and unsuitable beside her big built competitors.

Sehun wants to know her more, he finally finds someone who makes his heart flutters and skips a beat. After a good 2 months of moving on, finally Sehun finds a name that stays in his mind. He showers and after saying good bye to Luhan, Sehun walks to the lift and make his way to his basecamp. It is no other than the apartment Taeyong shares with his boys.

"You're here! Quiet early.. why? Can't sleep?" Jaehyun's sleepy face greets him. He is pretty sure Jaehyun is forced to open the door, because Sehun annoyingly presses it over and over again. Considering how much of a deep sleeper the others are, it is not surprising to find Jaehyun behind the door.

"You really ruin my sleep. I'm going back to bed." Jaehyun yawns and turns his body to his door.

"Yak it's already ten. Just wake up." Sehun smacks his lips.

"I can't I just slept at two yesterday. Yuta's sister happens to get dumped and she stayed here to cry for a straight one hour. And I can't sleep." Jaehyun rubs his tired eyes.

"Just come here. At least sleep here.. so I won't feel alone." Sehun pats the empty space on the sofa beside him. Jaehyun gives up and grabs his blanket and naturally makes himself comfortable sleeping beside Sehun.

Sehun scoffs in disbelief. He thought Jaehyun will get his code and talk to him a little so Sehun won't feel so lonely.. but this guy.. the favorite guy in his campus.. leaves him straight to bed. No wonder a lot of girls give up on him... he is ignorant.

Sehun tries to close his eyes to and get some more rest, but he can't. His mind keeps on teasing him with (y/n)'s face.

"Jae, you asleep?" Sehun asks when he feels like Jaehyun is actually awake already. "Why?" Jaehyun asks slowly, still trying his best to sleep.

"Tell me more about (y/n)-" Sehun rubs his hands over his face "-it's not what you think. I'm just curious."

Jaehyun grins and playfully pinches Sehun's cheeks "You're interested aren't you? Cutie."

"Aish. No. Come on.. I'm just curious.. we don't get to know each other that much." Sehun plays with the messy strands of hair Jaehyun has. It's shockingly painted pink and reminded Sehun of the cotton candy haired girl.

"Just go and see her next week. She'll race on Wednesday and Friday." Jaehyun closes his eyes and shifts his body to another position.

"I can't.. You know I'm not going back there. It's not my style to hang out in places like that." Sehun scrunches his nose. He is born from a rich family, and he is pampered with all good morals and living style. He just happens to learn how to live a normal life when he goes to college and meet his former gang EXO and these 4 princes of the school (dorks for him).

Sehun is not a player type like Johnny and Yuta. He is used to go to courses after school, his nights are spent in the library, his week ends are filled with golf, polo, or attending parties. Sehun went to private school until high school and he made his decision to follow Luhan's path to graduate from a public named university. Still the public school is something new to Sehun. He has to adapt with the types of people who majority have a different background unlike him. However, Sehun has never regret his choice. He met his first love here, a girl from a family like his.. she was sweet and gentle, his family likes her and supports his relationship. That's until he learn the painful truth about heart breaks. Sehun is still adapting his single life again.

"Oh yeah I forgot. You're from a rich family.. well maybe you can watch a movie alone then." Jaehyun lazily replies him.

"No.. I don't mean it that way. You know I cannot abruptly go out on a weekday. Luhan will question me."

"And what if Luhan questions you? Tell him you're seeing the wild race again."

"Sweetie I can't do that. He definitely won't allow me. I mean yesterday he let me because it's only my first time.. but I'm sure he won't expect me returning."

"Then say goodbye to (y/n)... besides she's not really available."

"What do you mean? She's looking on someone?" Sehun tenses.

Jaehyun laughs "She's my sister. Okay. That means I get to select who is dating her."

Sehun bursts out laughing and hits Jaehyun repeatedly "Liar! She is not your sister! She can't be... are you serious?!"

Jaehyun opens his eyes and gets up to sit. He quickly dodges the hits Sehun launches to him.

"He's not lying." Taeyong's raspy wake up voice croaks in as he joins the two brother fighting in the living room.

"What? Really?" Sehun stops his attacks and freezes to Taeyong's direction.

"Yeah. Trust me I've seen a lot of guys picking her up, and Jeffrey here denies every one." Taeyong laughs.

"Even if she said she's interested in Taeyong I will tell her no! Because I'm sure Taeyong deserves someone better." Jaehyun jokingly winks at Taeyong and the three bursts out laughing. Now that's a real sibling and friendship goals Sehun noted.

"Let me tell you about her.. if that's what you want to hear. Of course Jaehyun can't do that.. he will feel awkward .. talking about his sister to another man. So let me." Taeyong interferes.

"She is underage okay Sehun.. you have to keep that a secret. She is only seventeen." Taeyong is cut by Sehun's loud statement "What?! You all must be crazy placing her in that bike and letting her race! She doesn't have her license yet right?" Sehun who is used to live a life under strict rules is surprised.

"Oh come on Sehun. She's even a better rider than us who's legal to drive." Jaehyun fixes his hair and begins smirking with his ideal dimple

"She is only seventeen. Graduating high school soon and so don't dare date her or even get into her pants! I as her guardian angel will kill you!" Taeyong playfully teases Sehun.

"Whatever you guys.. I'm not seeing her like that. Just curious." Sehun tries to hide the blush in his face.. and half succeed.

"We actually did not want her to race. You know it happened one day.. when Yuta can't play because he injured his right hand, and we took a break for almost a month.. apparently (y/n) ;who was used to come with us to support Yuta begged us she wanted to try."

"I tried to stop her okay Sehun.. before you speak bad words to me.." Jaehyun quickly cleans himself. He knows Sehun will probably curse at him if Jaehyun lets her play like that.

"You know me well huh-" Sehun smirks

"Yeah so I can't play. For I broke my hand" Yuta suddenly continues the story. He is also in his wake up state like the others, but his brain is working well. "And since she sometimes joined me for practice.. she knows how to handle a motor bike. Just that she has to know how dirty the game is. She took the challenge.. we tried stopping her.. and she stubbornly went to the competition alone.. she took my bike.. raced alone. We lectured her for a whole day for we are worried sick when she popped up in front of our door in her messy state and handed us the money she won by herself."

"Holdup.. she went to her first race alone? And actually won it?" Sehun looks surprised.

The three men nod "Yes. And she said she really love the feelings... since Yuta cannot play for a month or more.. we trained her and voila! We have our Ace player." Taeyong spreads his hands open like showing a masterpiece.

"She's really a different one eh?" Sehun throws his gaze into Jaehyun and winks

"NOT IN YOUR WILDEST DREAM. SHE IS NOT DATING YOU." Jaehyun runs to the bathroom before Sehun attacks him with more punches.

--

The next Wednesday and Friday Sehun keeps his words. He doesn't join the boys to the wild racing and Luhan has no suspicion on his weird habits.

Well Sehun lately likes to doze off, loses focus in the middle of conversations, gets surprised easily, and does many other odd habits.

He tries his best to forget his feelings towards (y/n) for he also knows his family will be against it.. and it will only break both of their hearts. So Sehun tries his best to bury the slight interest he had to her.

One month passed, Sehun only knows her updates when the boys talk about her. And on one lonely Saturday.. Sehun cannot keep it going.

"Tae, let me tag along tonight." Sehun shows up ready in front of Taeyong's apartment.

"You miss her don't you?" Taeyong locks the door behind him "You appear on time. Jaehyun can't come tonight... he has a project due this night with Johnny. It's only us and Yuta, besides you're always welcomed to join."

"(Y/n)? She's not there?" Sehun blurts out the question that lingers in his mind.

"She's actually a bit injured from the last match.. but we'll see if she can make it tonight." Yuta explains.

The three arrive to the crowded illegal place. Yuta makes his way to grab his bike and goes to do the drug-test procedure. He is racing first tonight on the short track program.

"Taeyong hyung!" (Y/n) greets him quick

"How's your hand doing?" Taeyong carefully checks her left hand. It is wrapped with a strong gyps. He analyzes it while checking her face to see if she squirms.

"It's healing nicely. I am ready for tonight." She looks into Taeyong with her pleading eyes.

"But your hand?" Taeyong asks calmly. His deadly gaze still there despite the big puppy eyes staring into his.

"I swear it's not a problem. Jaehyun has modified my gas and brakes. He made it all right handed and my left hand won't have to exert great pressure." She pleads.

"Well... let me ask Jaehyun if you're allowed to play.. for actually I don't have to force you tonight." Taeyong sounds worried, but his face is still that same cold face.

"I called Jeffrey earlier. He said it's my choice. He told me that whatever the result, I am to be responsible for it." She hopelessly begs.. her hands are on Taeyong's hands.. holding them in order to win his empathy.

"I don't think it's a nice idea.. your competitor is quiet new tonight.. I do not know their tricks yet." Taeyong darts his eyes around the contestants. Yuta is already getting ready. He quickly gives him a two thumbs up and Yuta just returns a smile.

"Please.. hyung.. I need the money also I'm the ace here!" She whispers softly.

"Just trust me. I will keep myself safe." (y/n) squeezes Taeyong's cold hands and leaves when she sees Sehun in the crowd.

She pulls Sehun out of the crowd, he was busy talking with Yuta earlier and the audience are too loud.

"Sehun? What are you doing here?" she asks for she clearly remembers the oath Sehun said that he hates this place and never coming back.

"I'm here to ask you the same question." Sehun did not spit out any other words, but his hand delicately reaches to hold her fractured left hand. The gyps are still hard there and Sehun is pretty sure if he press it she'll scream and cry. "Isn't it too soon to race?"

She steps back and runs her eyes to other things but Sehun's. "It's been a month." She said knowing that's not the answer Sehun hopes to hear.

"This is not good.. though it's not my business." Sehun's deep voice cuts deep into her heart.

"Yeah.." she sighs.

"So.. why are you here?" Sehun raises his brow. Concern is painted all over his face.

"I need the money." She closes her eyes and breathe in. Feeling somewhat ashamed and sinful.

"(Y/~)—"

"I answered you." She cuts him off and hurriedly says "Now answer me. Why are you here? Seriously."

"I told you.. to see you." Sehun spills his tea.

Her pretty facial features shows surprise. She clearly did not expect his answer.

"You were being serious? You'd come back to this dirty road just to see me?"

Sehun couldn't quite read the emotion on her face as she processed that information—whether it was because of the poor lighting or just because he sucks in reading face.

Just as he was about to say something else, the MC announced the first winner for the short track program.. and calls all the contestant for the next race.

"I gotta go." Her face shows apology and something he can't read. She instantly turns her heels to leave Sehun. She then makes her way to Taeyong's side. Listening to the plan Taeyong had made. Yes Taeyong studied her competitors and he advices her how to handle each type.

"Be careful with that one biker. He is new.. I heard his name is Kai.. an ace from the other side.. please be careful with him.. I Don't know how he plays yet.. but let's avoid him okay. Now just be safe! Your safety is precious for me." Taeyong speaks while looking deep into her eyes. She nods understandingly and Taeyong hugs her tight. "Promise me not to get injured.. I am worried sick. Be safe.. for me.. for you.. for Jaehyun."

Yuta finishes his short track program first place. He rushes to (y/n)'S side to wish her good luck and final checks her gears. There are no missing parts and she's ready to race.

Sehun stands beside Taeyong and Yuta.. the three of them somehow feel uneasy letting her race tonight.. but she forces them and Taeyong knows her well. No matter how hard you said no, she will still do what she wants to do.

The line up tonight is only 7 players. With one new player Kai.. that becomes 8. Sehun squints in the dim light and dusty air.. Kai.. don't tell him it's the same Kai he was thinking.. Sehun cannot see his entire face clearly because of the helmet.. but when he looks at his side.. Sehun's face grows pale.

He is sure that is the Kai he is thinking about. Shit. Sehun knows how much of a skillful racer Kai is.. though Sehun did not know his friend is also into this filthy road gambling.. he finally understands where Kai got his random fractures.

The gun is shot, and the racers leave dust trails to the audience as they try their best to lead the line. The MC is busy reporting the players that gets kicked out or slipped on the deadly corners. Taeyong is watching from his binoculars and his mouth is clearly going to bleed anytime soon. Sehun gets it.. he is nervous..

His heart races when the MC repeatedly comments on how hard (y/n) and Kai are battling neck to neck. The two are fighting over first place and just as the race was about to end.. Sehun's heart stopped when Taeyong drops his binoculars and quickly runs to a fallen racer. Yuta is also running behind him. As if on queue the MC announces "Ace player (y/n) with number 127 falls on the last dead corner.. slipped from the slight kick of tonight's winner New Player Kai!" Sehun grits his teeth and rushes to help Taeyong and Yuta.

The fall seems to be quiet serious. She is thrown away from her bike quiet far. Lucky her helmet protects her head.. but she is unconscious right now. Taeyong picks her up while Yuta cleans up after her bike and hands it to their other crew who takes care of their bikes.

"Where's the paramedic? She told me they have paramedics? Or should I call the ambulance?" Sehun panics but tries to remain calm.

"What paramedics? This is an illegal sport Sehun.. we don't have anything like that.. ambulance? We can't bring any attention here. What should we say when an ambulance asked what happens to her? Free tracking?!" Taeyong answers Sehun's innocent question frustratedly.

"Then where Tae?" Sehun calmly asks as they reach Taeyong's car.

"You sit with her. Support her head okay.. please try to wake her up.. we'll drive to a free doctor we know." Taeyong starts the car when Yuta jumps in beside him.

They quickly rush to the place Taeyong said. On the back chair, Sehun is carefully holding her head while realizing she has many scratches.. must be from the rough landing.. some of the cuts are deep from the rocks..

"I'm sorry if her blood gets into your clothes." Taeyong talks to Sehun from his rear mirror.

"No it's not a problem.. focus on the road Tae.." Sehun ties some pressure on one of the big cuts with a towel Yuta passed.

They arrive at a small house. Apparently he is a doctor who always handle them. Doctor Choi Minho.

He quickly takes over (y/n). Checking her vitality, cleans all her blood and quickly decides she needs a few stitches. He checks her left hand and luckily it's not getting worse. Her left foot however was swollen.

Taeyong is pale.. he is busy thinking of what to say to Jaehyun... while Sehun, he just feels the same pain.

Amazingly her swollen leg has no fractures nor damage. It's swollen because the hit was quite hard. Other than that Minho only need to stitch a few deep cuts.

He finishes stitching her left arm, knee, elbow, and chin.

Minho lets them wait for her to wake up in the small check up room. There's a bed there and a chair. Sehun volunteers to look after her and Taeyong plus Yuta who are still thinking their way to tell Jaehyun.. thanks Sehun for taking the responsibility.

Quarter hour passed.

"Sehun?" Her soft hoarse voice greets Sehun's hearing. He is alert from his daze.

"You're awake.." Sehun pulls his chair closer to listen to her small volume.

She darts her eyes to look around and scrunches her face

"This is not my room."

"Uhum. You're in Dr. Minho's practice room."

"The race.. did I lost?" She asked

Sehun doesn't want to tell her the truth. She just risks her life and well being for the money she won.. but Kai.. Kai ruined everything.

Sehun sheepishly erases the gaps between them and places a kiss on her forehead.

She chuckles and swiftly keeps Sehun frozen on his chair "What good are those lips doing up there. I woke up and saw a god in front of me.."

Sehun blushes "Your brother will kill me."

"He won't.. he doesn't know what happened here." She eagerly smiles and Sehun can see Jaehyun's smile there but way more sweeter.

Like hypnotized by her playful gaze, Sehun leans down to reach for her lips. His hand carefully reach for her cheeks instead of the sewn chin. She closes her eyes and melts herself to the sweet passionate emotional kiss they exchange.

It is a fleeting kiss, too short for their liking but enough to make the two gasping for air. They parted just in time when Jaehyun bursts through the door. Sehun leaves the two of them alone.

"Thank goodness you're still in one piece! Taeyong almost lost his head if it's not because you called me earlier and practically forced me to allow you race. See?! I'm actually right about warning you something bad might happen... and see.." Jaehyun instinctively scolds his sister just like how brothers will act in this condition.

"Aish you make my head hurts.. it's not Taeyong's fault. I forced him too to let me play." I close my eyes when the head ache returns.

"I won't scold you more.. I think you're big enough to learn from your mistakes. I'm just worried sick okay. I scold you for your own good. Hyung loves you and doesn't want to lose you." Jaehyun smoothens her hair and leans to peck her cheek.

"(y/n) for this one time.. please listen to me. Don't race until you get better." Jaehyun stares into her eyes.

She nods helplessly and reaches for his hand "I promise. But please let me get to know Sehun." She bites her lips and blushes upon telling her request. Well she knows the rule that all men are to be qualified by Jaehyun first.. and she just feels the burning desire in her heart when she sees Sehun.

Jaehyun thinks for a moment and finally gives her an answer. "Alright. You can get to know him. But no dating or sleeping together. You can't bargain about that."

She rolls her eyes "I'm only going to walk to grab bubble teas with him.. or maybe watch a movie together. Gosh I'm still young bro. I need a friend to study and I think Sehun hyung is a nice learning buddy."

Jaehyun smiles and stands up from his seat. "Fine. You are allowed to go out with Sehun. Just be open to me okay. I trust you."

"Hyung, you're the best! Now help me go home." she gives him a two thumbs up, opens her hand to be carried by Jaehyun and she hangs on his back.

They thank Dr.Minho and make their way back to their apartment. Jaehyun is bringing (y/n) to his apartment tonight to look after her and the long ass ride back home she totally knocks herself to a deep sleep.

Sehun smiles inside his heart when he overheard the deal the brother and sister made.. well Sehun accidentally heard them when he was told to call them out to go home. And Sehun's in cloud 9 when Jaehyun allows her to see him.

He promises himself he'll be a good friend and a good guardian. He knows a lot of good bubble tea cafes and Sehun is brilliant in his studies. He can't wait for their first meeting...outside the race track.

CONTINUE TO NEXT CHAPTER