#but all the psychiatrist in my city need to be called on the phone to take a new patient

[nekrosmos]

.

[engelakiko]

There's no escape

This fanfic is based on some of the creator's answers! I do not speak English, the text was translated using a translator, so errors are possible (although I will try to minimize them) (Kei belongs to @minevn)

_(:3 」∠)_

… I don't remember how long I've been here. Since I escaped, all I've been surrounded by is the bare walls of the hospital, not the friendliest nurses, patients, and not a single hint of… him.

Akiko didn't know what she wanted more: to see Kei in a mental hospital or to see him in prison, every day followed the same scenario: morning, breakfast, check-up, afternoon, lunch, nap time, dinner, night. The only thing that distinguished her day from the days of the other patients was happiness. The happiness of being here, in a mental hospital, away from Kei and his all-seeing gaze. The joy of understanding that Akiko could now communicate with people and not see the one who made a chaotic tangle out of the girl's feelings was so overwhelming that the picture of her dancing and singing in fits of joy was not uncommon.

-Miss Engel, follow me.

"Oh, it seems the time has come for medical checks, one of the forms of entertainment within the confines of a place where you can't draw, sing, read, or sit on your phone. With a light, quick gait, I followed the nurse. To my question "Where are we going?" not receiving an answer, a slight anxiety settled in my heart, which I quickly dismissed. Walking along the same, unrenovated corridors that were filled with crying, the voices of doctors and other patients, who, apparently, also saw joy in the procedures, I was taken to the hall on the first floor while I was immersed in memories of my arrival here…."

….A week ago…

-I CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE -Miss, please breathe, no one is going to hurt you. Please explain what's going on. -H-HE'S DANGEROUS, HE'S NOT A HUMAN, A MONSTER, A KILLER! HE'S TRYING TO KEEP ME IN THE HOUSE…! -…call the doctors. Miss, calm down, no one is threatening you, who are you talking about? "…..I tried. I really tried to explain what's going on, but will they believe me? I'm…hysterical…talking about how the guy from the game came out of the laptop and is trying to keep me in the house…what kind of nonsense is this, right?

I hardly knew the city where Kei brought me, the fact that I ended up at the doctor's WITHOUT him was already a miracle. How smoothly he managed everything. He took advantage of my state of shock and introduced himself to my parents as my fiancé whom I met in college, and they believed him. Of course, how could you not believe him? Perfect knowledge of Russian, a brilliant mind, beautiful appearance and the unconditional love that he showed can fool anyone. Kei, as if controlling puppets, deprived my parents of all doubts, took the most necessary things, and moved me to another city (to which she wanted to move, judging by the browser history). In just a few days, he managed to turn my life upside down: make me a wife (of a HIGH-RANKING CIVIL OFFICIAL, DAMN IT), get a comfortable home, deprive me of my acquaintances, my job, my confidence in my sanity (AND A PHONE WITH THE INTERNET!!!), he even dared to deprive me of Jun, Kage… Haruto with Yani. Yes, they were part of the game created by Kei, but I already loved them as if they were alive and real. He deprived me of life….."

So Akiko managed to escape to the doctor with great difficulty, for some reason the idea of ​​visiting a psychiatrist seemed good to her. Needless to say, it wasn't quite so? She was taken to a psychiatric clinic. At first, she took it as a sign that she would never see a happy and peaceful life, but now everything has changed. Akiko finally calmed down, didn't see Kei, made new friends…

….Our days…

Continuing to follow the nurse, being immersed in her thoughts, the girl suddenly woke up hearing a soft, calculating voice… HIS VOICE.

"…no"

-…when she arrived here she didn't have any things with her, so you don't need to pack anything "..no"

-Okay, in that case Akiko will change and we'll go home, I've already received the head doctor's orders. I apologize for my wife.

".no"

-She didn't cause any problems, but you need to make sure that she takes her medication.

"NO NO NO!!!"

-Sure. I'll take care of her

-WHY IS HE HERE?!

At Akiko's sharp cry, all the nurses who were nearby immediately looked at her, not noticing the man's slight smile.

-My love, everything is fine. I was really worried about you, I'm sorry I couldn't come earlier -

-STAY AWAY FROM ME

-Are you sure you can take care of her? I think she needs a little more…

-I'm sure we're leaving.

-O-okay

"I tried to move and run, but my legs felt like cotton wool. Why are they letting me go with him? Why are they even letting me go?!"

-Let's go home, dear.

Kei said, gently but firmly grabbing Akiko's hand, leading her to the locker room to change and take her… home. She couldn't resist, she couldn't run, she had no choice.

Bonus based on a fantasy about one of the posts of the developer lol

[n7punk]

Superzero Extra #1: Secret Identities

i just realized i never talked about Sea Hawk I just realized I never posted this meta, so here's just some random stuff from the other members of the Alliance that gives context on their lives:

Mermista/Sea Hawk: Mermista hasn't told Sea Hawk her identity mostly because he has a big mouth. There's the rules, but Mermista isn't exactly a big rule-follower. That said, no matter how indifferent she acts about it, she cares about the Alliance and wants to protect all the others. Mermista does eventually tell him after they've graduated. She both plans it and doesn't. She reaches the point where she's basically like "whenever I can be dramatic about it, I'm telling him" and then she gets the absolutely perfect moment when he's in the Middle of dropping on his knee and her phones goes off. She says "Sorry, babe, I have to go save the city and then you can finish your proposal I guess" and transforms as she texts Glimmer for a pickup. He's both stunned and takes it in stride like "Of course my Mermista would be such a radiant hero!" Mermista warned the Alliance that she was going to do it soon, and they were all wary given Sea Hawk's big mouth, but even though he has nearly as many close calls revealing someone's identity as Scorpia, he does manage to keep the secret.

Frosta: Frosta was raised by her mother to take over as Fractal Flake, but her mother died two years before the fic and left the powers to her early. It was cancer, so it was something she "saw coming" and as soon as she got the diagnosis she passed on the powers even though she (rightfully) thought Frosta was far too young for it. Frosta's father was already gone so she was raised by her grandparents from that point on, who have no idea about the Alliance since her mom got her powers from an outside mentor.

Spinnerella: Spinnerella is a psychiatrist. And boy does the Alliance need it.

This has been sitting in my drafts for long enough I can't remember if any of this information has been shared yet or what else I was going to include here

[callmewrinkles3]

Besties, you see the shower things from his road trip? (Moment if silence for us to wipe our droll). Does this road trip happen and is it a family one? Anyway, still losing my mind over this shower content. Why is he so gorgeous???

Dear Katie you came here looking for a happy answer and it won’t be the one I’ll be giving you lol. Also first thing first he is gorgeous and i want him for Christmas 🙇🏻‍♀️

Anyway about the trip, Em doesn’t go. She’s a city girl, she’s not into camping and all that. She did it twice with Dan - one because Charlie and Blake were going and once cause he convinced her - but that’s it. Em wouldn’t let him turn it into a family trip because it was a work thing, he needs time off with his mates. Besides, it was planned before they even knew she was pregnant. Dan wouldn’t drag his wife into such a long trip while being pregnant, knowing she wouldn’t be able to do half of the things and how she was gonna uncomfortable.

The problem is they have only ever spent one night apart since Em came back in 2022, when she went with Blake for a night to cheer on Scotty at the X Games. Other than that they’ve only had a couple of hours apart and they knew that after Austin they weren’t going to see each other for weeks. They called it practice for being apart for so kind but in reality it was a nightmare. Dan was worried all the time. He didn’t have great phone signal so when his phone finally beeped he was terrified what the messages would say. That something was wrong with her or Lulu. Plus not having her around felt weird and wrong.

It was even worse for Em tho. She has her little routines. She makes Dan his tea every single night, she gets to read her books while he watches sports or some ridiculous movie that’s too ridiculous and American for her to find it funny. Since they found out about the pregnancy Dan talks to Lulu every single night. Dan sleeps with her head on his chest because his heartbeat - and his snores because she’s too in love lol - are her white noise. She wakes up with Dan kisses and cuddles every morning. He’s the one who knows what to do when the nightmares hit. He knows how to calm her down when her heart starts racing too much.

She thought she was gonna be fine, she stayed with Grace and Joe and Blake was all the time with her while Charlie was working, then both of them will be her shadow. But this is a woman with C-PTSD after years of negligence from her parents. She’s been working on it for months with her therapist Mildred, her psychiatrist and Charlie, but its hard. Mix that with her abandonment issues, pregnancy hormones and the memories of the last time she was alone and pregnant? Its a bad mix. There was nightmares, admitting to her in laws about her mental health and what was going on, and an amount of tears that was terrifying.

It took a village of Aussies looking after her and making her understand she wasn’t alone. It took an emergency session with Mildred because the flashbacks of Liverpool were too bad, even if the situation was completely different. It took an incredible amount of love and cuddles. She didn’t let anyone call Dan to tell him tho, not even in the worst night. She smiled through every call, even yelled at him for swimming with sharks. Dan could feel in his guts something was wrong, but he knew if nobody called him then it wasn’t that bad. It wasn’t until he was back home that Joe sat with him while Em napped and explained what happened. It really broke everyone’s hearts. It was really the reason why Charlie decides to move with her while the boys were going to be away for the last couple of races.

[soragawanaeru]

I maybe pause for a while for the AU. Not stopping for long though, not permanently. Just now I have a fight with my mom, she said I'm a useless child. She said she's the most tired person in this family while my fatigue is never known. I'm tired, mostly mentally. I have nobody but myself in this foreign place. She said that either I should change mother or she should change children--my younger siblings included. She threatened me that I always disobey her order and she'll call the campus to drop me out of my college and/or she'll came to my place so she could do anything to me. (Even killing me hahaha)

She said I'm daring enough to raise my voice at her and saying I only know tricking her. Believe it or not, no, I don't dare--In fact, I mostly alone. I hate socializing too much, it's tiring. She even said that I should call her as a servant, not a mother. I tried harder and harder, I deny sleep to finished my report on time, I deny all invitations to hangout so my money won't spent too much on other things.

I'm tired for being asked EVERY week, how's my weight, keep doing sports until my body hurts so much. I know I lied her by saying I ate eggs and drink water but actually I ate instant noodles sometimes but mostly bread. But in fact, she's angry that almost 2 weeks, I only lost weight from 65,7 kg until 65,1 kg. Yeah, stupidly, I'm not an easy type to lose weight.

This is not like saying 'I'm always correct', no. I know my mistakes. I lied to her that I only ate eggs and made her worried, but I worry her more that when she knows I only ate noodles, she'll disappointed with me. I accidentally raises my voice at her when we're quarreling because she kept threatening me. End of call. But after that I think to myself, should I die? Maybe she's right that she's ALWAYS right and all her children always wrong. Maybe I'm that useless. Maybe I should slam my head to the wall or something.

I don't know, she said that she's the one who handle so she has EVERY right to control the household, even me that still in different city. I don't know why I'm alive, maybe I live to serve her as a repayment? I wish I shouldn't have been born, especially as an eldest child. I hate when I was being told to understand EVERYTHING because I'm the eldest child that automatically being examples for my younger siblings.

Ugh, I hate this body though. Like why??? I always get fat and my food is quite restricted. I forgot how sweet tastes, I cut that off since she said 'That will make me fat'. I wish I am neither a boy or a girl. I hate period, I hate beauty standards, I hate being ordered to lose weight and restricted my food so I don't look ugly in her eyes.

I always stuck in endless hunger as my stress coping, or maybe I'm too tired to eat that I feel eating is a burden. I either can't sleep or maybe slept around like I just close my eyes and when I opened them the day changes because I'm too tired. I either wake up too early--like midnight and before dusk or wake up too late--around 8 to 9 o'clock because my sleep schedule turned shit.

I can't focus anymore. I always distracted with anything--reports, drawing, phones, lazying around, writings, so on. I feel like 'I need to go to psychiatrist but I have no money to have a counseling that I either have unknown ADHD or depression' hahaha bullshit

Anyways, I just want to let out my vent here because I don't know? I forgot how to cry, my chest hurt, and I lost my tears long time ago. Ciao!!

[p-artsypants]

Paint it Black (7) Seeking

Ao3 | FF.net

The four Titans rushed downtown to Jump City Hospital. As it was the middle of the night, the front entrance was closed, but the emergency entrance was open. 

“Oh! The Teen Titans, hello again!” Said the nurse behind the counter. “Mr. Rancid is out of surgery, and the police have sent an officer to watch him––”

“That’s nice, but we’re here for something else. Where are the labs where they do blood work?” Cyborg asked, rather impatiently. 

“Uh, down the left, you’ll see a sign. No one is in to draw blood––”

“Is the unit open?” 

“I can page a Doctor to meet you there…” She trailed off, going to the phone. Who was she to question the teen superheroes?

They didn’t stick around for her response, just followed the signs like she said. 

“So our man was talking in song titles? Why?”

“I believe in the last video we saw, one of the men that were escorting him asked what he was doing with the head of a Slade-bot. I do not believe that was Robin, but that would have been the same camera, would it not?”

“And Robin probably thought if it could work, someone would be watching,” mused Raven.

“He was trying not to get caught leaking info, or having his cover blown,” Cyborg finished. 

They reached the labs just as a doctor was keying the door. “Ah, there you are! What business do you have in the labs? Can I help you––”

“We aren’t sure,” Raven said, moving past him. “We’re looking for something.”

“Okay,” said Beast Boy, looking at his notes. “Last Flowers for the Hospital, check. We Suck Young Blood, check. Now we’re looking for Fake Plastic Trees and/or a ladder.” 

“I see many fake plants,” Starfire said as she went to each, and looked in and around them. 

“I don’t see any ladders though,” Cyborg looked around. 

“Hmm,” Raven looked up to a ledge above the waiting room. “But, if you were unable to fly, wouldn’t you need a ladder to get to that fake plastic tree?” 

The team all looked up and saw what she meant. 

Starfire flew up and looked, parting the branches, moving the pot around, and then she saw it, under the pot. A file folder.

“Could this be it?” 

They opened it up while the doctor waited by the door. The many documents spread out on the counter, and they examined them together. 

“Project: Duality,” Raven read aloud from a pamphlet. “A revolutionary treatment for young men suffering with chronic hospitalization for mental disorders. Join our program for a fast track to your better self. Volunteers requested for experimental treatment, no booking fee, treatment absolutely free to patients. Spots are filling up quick!” 

“Dear Robin,” Cyborg read from a piece of paper. 

I’m sending you this email in regards to my son, Darren West. He has schizophrenia. He was recently a psychiatric patient at Jump City Hospital. We heard about a program called ‘Project: Duality’ that promises treatment for low income families. When we interviewed with the psychiatrist, Dr. Jack White, he denied us outright, even though my son is exactly the kind of patient Dr. White is looking for. While visiting my son one day, Darren revealed he talked to some of the other candidates to find out if they got accepted. Every one that did is an orphan. 

Perhaps this means nothing. Perhaps Dr. White simply thought that because Darren has a family, he was more privileged than others. But I would not be doing my due diligence as a mother if I didn’t reach out to you. I find it suspicious. Any other information you need for your investigation, please don’t hesitate to ask. 

Sincerely,

Angel West 

“Well, here’s the tip off.” 

“These look like applications,” Starfire showed the files she and Beast Boy were looking at. “They have names and patient numbers…” she gasped. “Look at this one!” 

The young man’s portrait was on the top, black hair in two spit curls, blue eyes, and a simple smile. 

“Name: Richard Grayson, Age: 17, Patient #: 8! This must be him!” She kept reading over the file. “Patient shows great physical strength and quick wit. Status of parents: Deceased. Interview with Dr. Jack White shows severe undiagnosed depression and suicidal ideation. Treatment prospects are good, and the patient is approved for Project: Duality.” 

“Oh yeah, this has Slade written all over it,” Beast Boy said, looking at the other files. “This one kind of looks like Black, right?” 

The photo attached to the top was a dark haired boy with a bowl cut, nervous smile, and blue eyes. 

“Name: Justin Krieger, Age: 17, Patient #: 2. Patient shows great physical strength, but a prolonged thought process. Status of parents: Deceased. Initial diagnosis: extreme schizophrenia. Believes his father was Ed Gien, a serial killer that skinned his victims to make various crafts from them. Seems rather proud of this fact. Treatment prospects are good, and the patient is approved for Project: Duality.” 

“Dude, they put someone with depression in treatment with a skin stealer?!” 

“Excuse me,” the doctor spoke up. “I’m trying not to eavesdrop, but I overheard you mention Project: Duality.” 

“What do you know about it?” Raven asked. 

“Not a lot, honestly. I did hear about it from my colleagues in the psych ward though. Apparently, it was introduced by an adjunct psychiatrist, Dr. White, who was visiting from his psychiatric hospital. He got about twenty boys to volunteer for the project. One night, he escorted them all out to a van, and disappeared. When we went to the police, we found out there was no Dr. Jack White, there was no psych hospital, and none of the boys had any family to miss them. We’re all very upset about it, but the board is choosing to keep it quiet.”

“So this ‘Doctor’ just kidnaps twenty mentally ill teenagers and disappears off the face of the Earth?” Beast Boy shivered. “Sounds like the premise for a horror movie.” 

“It does, doesn’t it?” The doctor blanched. 

“Do you remember ever seeing this boy?” Raven held up Richard Grayson’s application. 

“No, sorry. I’m a cardiac doctor. But I bet I know someone who might! Are we all done in here?”

“Yes sir, lead the way,” Cyborg said as Starfire and Beast Boy gathered all the notes. 

He led them into the hospital and upstairs. When they were about to pass through some double doors, he warned, “please keep your voices down. Patients are trying to sleep.” 

Inside, they led down a long hallway of patient rooms. The lights were dim, and it was quiet. He led them to a desk where a nurse sat. 

She looked up at his approach. “Oh! Doctor Collins,” she said softly. “And…The Teen Titans? What’s this about?” 

“This is Susan, head nurse of the Psych unit. Ask her.” 

“Um,” Starfire started, holding up Richard’s file. “Have you seen this boy?”

“Oh!” She smiled at his photo. “Dickie Bird!” Then her smile faded as she looked over the application. “Is that…for Project: Duality?” Her voice warbled. 

“Yes,” said Raven.

Susan put a hand to her mouth as her eyes welled up with tears. She blinked them away. “Of course I know him. Dickie was what we call a candy striper. It’s an old term for a volunteer. He um…” she sniffed, and wiped at her eye with a tissue. “He’d come here and volunteer on the weekends, the late night shift. He said he had experience from volunteering with his father at Arkham Asylum in Gotham. He was our best volunteer, and I kept trying to get him to come in more often because he just worked wonders with the patients. I had no idea he was suffering…” she put her head in her hands. “If I had known…and now…” she sighed. “I wondered what happened. He just…stopped coming in, months ago. I thought he got busy or it was something I did…” 

“Please, Nurse Susan, do not blame yourself.” 

“Oh,” Beast Boy dug around in the file for the application for Justin Krieger. “Does this guy look familiar?” 

Her nose scrunched up in disgust. “Yes. I know him too. And…well, it’s not his fault. He’s not––” she realized it was another Project: Duality application and changed what she was going to say. “He was a very ill boy. When I heard of Project: Duality, I thought of him first. He needed treatment in a specialized facility, much more attention than we could give him here.” 

“And um…if he was ever out on the streets, unmedicated?” 

She shook her head. “Never. His group home dropped him off here after what he did to…his sister.” She winced. “I’m sorry, Titans. Heroes or not, I’ve said too much. Patient confidentiality.”   

“Even after death?” 

“I’m afraid so.” 

The team shared a look, each asking the other, ‘what now?’ 

“Thank you for your time, Susan,” Raven said before departing. 

As they walked back to the entrance, they pondered over what they had learned. 

They never even knew Robin’s real name.

And now they were going to go home, where the monster lived. 

The monster that killed him. 

—

Black arose with a shout. That damned place, those damned memories. Echoes of the most vile of humans. 

Where he was cleft in two. 

He panted, looking around the room. Soft bed, soft light from a little night light in the corner. Brown walls, clean and not stained with blood and filth. 

Titans Tower. His home, for now. As long as he behaved. 

He sat up, sitting at the edge of the bed, his head throbbing. It was all too vivid, all too real, all too––

He nearly flipped his mattress to get to his stash. The baggy was nearly empty. He’d have to find a way to get more. He promised no more wild stunts, but if he stayed away from the Titan’s villains and went after petty criminals, they wouldn’t be too mad, would they? 

It would be a smaller dose than normal. Maybe half. The effects would be…less than ideal. He should have paid better attention, but he never could. 

He laid there for a while, letting it work. Smoothing the edges, easing the pain, quieting the voices. 

Then he dressed for the day and strolled out to meet his friends. 

The four Titans were all awake, sitting around the table, each with mugs. Coffee presumably. 

“SUP NERDS?” He bellowed as he entered. 

They all looked at him, different expressions of disgust and fear on their faces. 

“Okay, if it’s about the bathroom, I can explain––” 

Starfire was the first to fix her expression into something more friendly. After all, Black didn’t remember who he was, or who he used to be. “We merely had a long night. Did you sleep well, friend?”

“Ah…I had some nightmares. That’s pretty typical for me though. Can I have some coffee?” 

“Knock yourself out,” Cyborg threw a thumb over to the counter where the pot sat. 

“Much obliged!” He poured his mug and took a seat with them. “So, pardners, I’m fixin’ ta get out and visit some folks. Do one of you fellers or darlin’s wanna give me a lift inta town?” 

“You’re not going anywhere,” Raven said crossly. 

“Yeah, Justin Krieger!” 

Black squinted slightly. “Who?”

“That’s you, dude! That’s your name!” 

He scratched his cheek. “I never pictured myself as a Justin…I’m more of an Antonio, don’t you think?” 

Beast Boy slapped the application down in front of him. “This is you, dude!” 

Black rolled his eyes and picked up the application to better examine it. 

The Titans all prepared to fight if this triggered his memory to return. But instead, Black squinted more. “No, that’s not me, but he looks familiar. He looks––” his eyes blew wide open and his breath got caught in his throat. He suddenly felt very ill and faint. 

He pushed away from the table, running from that image to the nearest trash can, where he vomited. Vomited out that last little bit of his stash. 

“I don’t want to see that face again,” he said, darkly. 

“So…maybe this isn’t Black?” Beast Boy said after a moment. “But it has to be! Only one person survived!” 

“I don’t know where you all were, or where you got that picture, but that is a can of worms you don’t want to open.” Reality crept like writhing tentacles at the edge of his vision. 

Damn, his headache was back. 

“And what would that be, exactly?” Cyborg egged him on. 

Nausea quaked through him again, but he looked back up at Cyborg. “Hell.” 

“We knew someone that went through it,” Raven urged. “Project: Duality. That’s where you lost your memories, isn’t it?” 

Black shook his head. He didn’t have the stomach for this. He was too lucid for this. “Let me out of this damn tower.” 

“Not until you tell us what you know!” 

Black swallowed, heat burning on his face and behind his eyes. “Fine.” He started pacing back and forth, concentrating on those early memories. Those things that happened right after his birth. He gnashed his teeth as the poison burned his veins, as the laughter pelted against his psyche. 

“I can’t,” he whispered, near breakdown. “I’m awake, and I don’t want to be.” 

“What are you talking about?” Raven prodded. “Black, make some sense for once.” 

“No! No no no no no!” He started hitting himself in the face. “Go to sleep go to sleep go to sleep!” 

“What is wrong? Is it…too painful?” Starfire asked, resting a hand on his clammy skin. 

Her touch burned. Hot like the needles. Hot like the knives. He screamed. He screamed loud and unrestrained. He screamed like the Masters were watching and laughing. He screamed like he was fighting for his life. 

“IT HURTS! MY FACE! IT HURTS!” 

Raven set her mouth into a tight line. “He’s having a traumatic flashback. I’m going to attempt to read his mind and see if I can glean anything from it.” 

“You sure that’s a good idea?” 

“No.” She closed her eyes. “Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos…” After only a second she startled back. “It’s no use. He’s…he’s insane. There’s no mind for me to grab onto!” 

Black reached out, feeling his way around, gasping and sobbing all the way. “Cyborg! Cyborg please!” 

Cyborg caught his hand. “What do you need?”

“Make it stop!” He cried. “Fentanyl! Morphine! I need an opioid!” He curled over as heat pulsed through his body. He’d burst into flames at any moment. 

“Seriously dude?” Beast Boy asked. “All this drama for drugs?” 

“We have a small amount of OxyContin for emergencies.” 

“What?!” Beast Boy cried. “You’re going to indulge him?”

“He has an addiction! We cut him cold turkey, he could die!” Cyborg grabbed Black and threw him over his shoulder. “Come on, to the med bay with you.” 

Black continued to cry as Cyborg took him down the hall. He continued to spiral as they dropped him onto the bed. He continued to hear the laughter as they gave him the pill and he drank with shaking hands. 

15 minutes later, he was down to hiccups. The burning subsided. The days in his cell faded. 

“Feeling better?” Cyborg asked. 

Black turned to him with a smile. “So much better, my foiled wrapped chocolate bar.” 

“I’m going to pretend like I didn’t hear that.” 

“Well, if you’re feeling better, then we want answers,” Raven demanded. “Tell us about Project: Duality.” 

Black stuck a pinky in his ear. “Look, it was an extremely painful experience. Why don’t you ask me questions about it, and if I remember it, I’ll tell you.” 

Raven frowned. “Fine. What do you know about Jack White?” 

“Doesn’t sound familiar.” 

“Do you know who led the project?” 

“Nope.” 

“Do you know where it happened?” 

“I think it was on the south side of town. I spend a lot of time there though.” 

“Face it Rae, he’s clammed right up,” Cyborg sighed. 

“One more question, Black, and then I’ll leave it for the day.” 

“Shoot.” 

“Do you know where they took the bodies of the people who died during the project?” 

Black was quiet, gnawing on his tongue, then he begrudgingly answered, “I’ve already told you.” 

“What does that mean?” Asked Beast Boy. 

“Can I go now?” Black asked, impatient. “I have some appointments to make.” 

“No,” Raven stated. “You’re a hazard. We have to keep you here.” 

Black jutted out his jaw. “How much OxyContin do you have left?” 

“Enough for a few days. But don’t worry. Now that we know you have a problem, we can help you get off of it.” 

Black gnawed on his lip. That wasn’t good enough. He didn’t have an addiction. It was worse than that. 

“Please, Friend Black, do you wish to partake in the creation of Arts and Crafts with me?”

He perked up. “Oh boy! Do you have macaroni noodles?”

“Indeed!” 

After he and Starfire left, Raven looked meaningfully at Beast Boy. “Can you translate the rest of Robin’s videos?” 

“I’ll do my best.” 

—

Raven, Cyborg, and Beast Boy returned to the ops room and loaded up the three remaining messages. 

“You can keep what you want. I want none of this. They're just bad memories I don't want.”

“That one is ‘I Want None of This.’”

“You possess me. You're there again, ahead of me and I won't let go. I won't let go. You're inside my head…inside my head…inside my head…inside my head.”

“‘Inside My Head’, kinda obvious.”   

Then, they watched again as the boy they thought was Black crept across the floor, smiling in a horrible way. He poked Robin, curious. 

“Don’t touch him,” Cyborg growled. 

“I…I want his face.” 

Raven turned her face away. All that was important was the sounds. She didn’t need to watch. 

“I want the toys of other boys. I want a knife and a gun and things. But mom and dad will not give in…and I can't put the needle in.” 

Beast Boy frowned, taking out his ipod. “I don’t know that one off the top of my head.” 

Raven ended the video, not wanting to watch more than she had too. Then both she and Cyborg watched Beast Boy as he scrolled through his song list. 

“Wait, are these CDs out here?” Cyborg pointed to their media shelves. 

“Oh, yeah, the band is Radiohead. This sounds like their earlier stuff.” 

Cyborg and Raven went to the shelves and found Robin’s section, and then the band in question. Thankfully, the CDs all had the song listings on the back. 

“I don’t know if this is the right song, but there’s one called ‘Faithless Boy Wonder’,” Raven pointed out. 

“Let me listen,” Beast Boy found the track, listened for a moment, then frowned. “Yeah, that’s it.” 

“So, I want none of this inside my head, Faithless Boy Wonder? That’s the message? What does it mean?” Cyborg asked. 

“We know they were poisoning the patients, maybe that’s what he was trying to say. And give us a reminder that he really is Robin.” 

“Makes the most sense. You ready for the next one, Beast Boy?”

“Yeah, hit me.” 

When the video started, they remembered how things changed. There were less boys, and they were sitting around, watching him. Listening to him. 

“You follow me around. You follow me around.”

“‘Follow Me Around’. Luckily, some of these are easier to pick out than others.” 

In the video, one of the boys on the bed started coughing and crying. 

Beast Boy whined. “Can we skip over this part? It was traumatic enough the first time.” 

Cyborg agreed and scrubbed the video forward. 

“Even though I might, even though I try, I can't.”

“The song is ‘I Can’t.’ And I think it's the last one he sings in this one. So the message is ‘Follow Me Around, I Can’t.’” 

“Easy,” deduced Raven. “He can’t investigate or communicate because he’s being followed.” 

“So he just has to survive,” Cyborg sighed. “And even then…”    

“There’s one more,” Raven reminded. 

“Isn’t there two? Not including the one Gizmo’s working on.” 

“I thought we established that the last one wasn’t Robin.” 

“Would you like to hear my theory?” Raven asked, one eyebrow raised. 

“Yes please.” 

“If Robin created this code made up of songs, and sung them on tape, I think he may have practiced. In that last video, a bunch of boys were gathered around to listen. I think he sang often. If he practiced the code in order enough times, the boy in the last video, Black or not, may have just repeated it after hearing it so many times.” 

“That’s a nice theory, Raven, but I don’t know,” Cyborg shrugged. 

“Let’s decode this second to last one, and then we’ll try that one and see if there’s any message there.”   

When they started up the last video, they all grimaced as they remembered how it started. An empty room, covered in filth. Robin was sobbing. 

This was the video where he—

“I don’t know if I––”

“We must, Beast Boy,” Raven insisted. “Robin took the time and effort to send us these messages, we have the obligation to find out what he was going to say.” 

“Can we stop before the ending?” He begged. 

“Yes,” said Cyborg. “I can’t watch that again.” 

They pressed play, listening to their friend, their brother, weeping. They hadn’t ever heard Robin cry. Shout, scream, yell, yes…but never weep. 

“I will…Lay me down…In a bunker underground. I won't let this happen to my children…”

“Oh…” Beast Boy moaned. “This is ‘I Will’.” 

They watched with disgust as the other boy pet Robin’s head with his blood stained hands. Then Robin raised his head and looked at the camera. 

“I wish I had seen his eyes before, and not like this,” Cyborg lamented. 

“Don't hurt me…don't hurt me…don't hurt me…don't hurt me.”

Beast Boy sighed as he covered his face. “‘Give Up The Ghost’.” 

“Every day every hour…I wish that I was bulletproof.”

Cyborg stopped the video there, cutting off the attack at the end. 

“‘Bulletproof…I wish I was’.” 

“I will give up the ghost, Bulletproof…I wish I was?” Cyborg put together. “So…”

“He knew he was going to die. But he thought he was going to be shot.” 

“So this message was…wrong. Slightly wrong.” Raven scowled. “Then we’re back to nothing.” 

“Beast Boy, you want to rewatch the last one?” 

“I don’t need to. First song was ‘Cotton-Eyed Joe’, which isn’t a Radiohead song anyways, so it breaks the code, and the second song is ‘Karma Police’. I don’t see any message. I thought maybe it would continue from the last one.”

“Maybe it does,” Cyborg poised. “We won’t know until Gizmo recovers it.” 

“If he recovers it.” 

[valkxrie]

Black bird

@silverjetsystm | Send me “black bird” for a darker memory of my muse’s past.

It's a Tuesday. It's her day off. She almost dropped her coffee picking up her phone, missing the opening sentence. The pleasantries. It was the psychiatrist's office. One on the base. Had to be, really. Top-secret mental health and all that. Specialized military care, run by military-grade doctors - not that military-grade was anything to boast about half the time. Military grade just meant 'replaced easily by a large budget'.

Brunnhilde had listed the office number as a sewing needle emoji and a brain emoji in her phone. Her mother called it crass. Brunnhilde thought it was funny. Not in a ha-ha kind of way - but, funny.

The icons made it to her ear.

"---- I'm calling regarding your upcoming appointment with Doctor Miller."

A disembodied voice. Sweet. Young sounding, the way some voices sound young. Like you can tell the mind attached hasn't encountered too much of the real world yet.

"Okay." Brunnhilde replied, waiting. It's her day off. She's in the city, dressed to leave the house. Trousers, t-shirt. Clean lines. Flossed teeth.

"Doctor Miller is no longer with the practice. We are transferring your files to Doctor Newton -"

"What?" She interrupts. Puts her coffee down. An ache in her left side kicks up a fuss. "What do you mean he's no longer with the practice?"

"Doctor Miller is no longer with this practice. Um. Your files - your files have been transferred to Doctor Newton. We have set up an appointment at your regular time. If Doctor Newton isn't a fit, we can set you up with someone else."

Her eyes shut but she doesnt realize it. She sees that bottle green room. Leather sofa. It always smelled of carpet. That way some carpets smell. Not dirty, but - always like a carpet.

"Doctor Miller was... he was filing some paperwork for me. Do you have a copy of that anywhere? Was it filed?" A pause. A pinch on the bridge of her nose. Pacing. Half pacing. It's only been a second. A shuffle. Not enough time for the voice at the other end to speak. "Paperwork regarding my, uh, my career. Trajectory. My career trajectory. It'd have gone from you to admin."

She didn't want to say discharge papers. Not yet. Not until it was official. Until it was real. Until it couldn't also vanish a secretary. Not that Miller had vanished, Brunnhilde thought. He'd probably won the lottery. He was probably on a beach using an NDA as a coaster. That military-grade fuck.

"I cannot see anything related to your Branch or Unit. Nothing for admin. Were you expecting something to be filed by Doctor Miller?"

"I was, yes." No pacing. Just a pause. Bated breath. "There's nothing?"

"No, I'm sorry. Just your transfer to your current post and your patient notes, Commander."

"Okay." A nod. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. "Okay. Thank you."

A pause. She's gnawing on the knuckle of her right humb. It had taken weeks to get to this point. Months, more like. Months to confess. To kick down the fucking door of that fucking bird-cage and stand at the fucking gate and stare at the world beyond. Clipped wings needed time to grow. Fuck.

"Wait. Sorry, before you go." Another pause. Eyes still closed Hands buzzing like they did after a long flight in a new machine. "Can you see who recommended Doctor Newton? Which C/O signed off?"

"It looks like.... uh, one moment while I get it. Uh - oh. It looks like the General signed off on it."

Of course he did. And he wanted her to know. Never leave a paper trail unless you want it read. Brunnhilde supposed she'd left one a mile long. Or, Miller had. Patient confidentiality be damned.

The birdcage lay mangled in the grass. She's miles above New York City, hearing only ringing in her ears. Plummeting. Pulling a sewing needle from her ear.

It's silent. It's not. It's ringing in her ears. She throws her mug at the wall. It's loud for a moment. She yells - for a moment. Then it's silent. It's Tuesday. It's her day off.

[aphandgflover]

Tw suicide attempt

One of my closest friends tried to kill herself last night. She told everyone she was going to someone else's place in another city, and then threw herself in the harbour. A kind lady called for help and got her out and to the hospital. We only knew because her phone survived and Lyra, my wife, was listed as her emergency contact.

I don't know how I feel.

In a way I'm angry at her.

She was having a really hard time lately. We knew that. She was staying with us. I had to watch her wash her hands twice, sometimes thrice in a row, so I could prove to her that they were clean. I had to tell her to put on hand cream after that so that her skin didn't get so dry it broke. I had to fetch her pills for her, so she knew she hadn't thrown them in the cats' water. I had to wake up at four in the morning, because she had needed to pee and had to wash her hands again. I had to make sure she ate something, even though she slept through most meal times.

And when she was awake, I had to sit with her, to show her she was not alone, to tell her she was safe, she was going to be okay. I've had to listen as she said the same things over and over, that she was never going to go better, that surely her intrusive thoughts meant she was a horrible person who wanted to harm our cats, to harm us, to harm herself, that she was a monster. I've had to repeat to her, over and over, that this wasn't true, that she was our friend, and a good person who was in pain, that we wanted her to feel better, that we were going to do everything it took.

We had taken her to the hospital so she could see an emergency psychiatrist. They managed to book a week at a local clinic for her. She was supposed to go there this wednesday. She was so close. I don't understand why she gave up now. I don't understand why, even though she had so many people taking care of her, even though she had a light at the end of the tunnel to look forward to, she still couldn't hold on for just a couple more days.

I suppose you really have to be in her state to understand. I suppose she was less lucid than I though she was.

I'm angry that she did that. It feels like a selfish emotion. It's not her fault, I know that. But I still feel angry. Angry that she would just throw away all the care we had for her. That even for a moment she thought that Lyra and I wouldn't feel the worst kind of pain had she succeeded in killing herself. That we wouldn't cry or scream or hold each other in despair, not knowing how to comfort each other.

She's twenty-three, she's three years younger than us, she's my little sister's age. We call her our little sister sometimes. We call her little one, like she's our daughter. We call her our roomie, because she's been sleeping on our couch regularly for almost four years now.

We already lost friends to suicide. More than what feels could maybe be normal. We lost family, also, people we loved deeply, especially Lyra. I'm angry she didn't realize how horrible we both feel about it and that she would add to it.

I'm angry there's also a possibility she didn't care. That she knew all of this and still decided to do it.

I want to run to her hospital bed, shake her and scream at her for what she did. I want to call her selfish, and stupid. I want to take her home, to wrap her in a blanket like it's a straight jacket and to not let her out of my sight.

I want to understand. I want to ask her what she was thinking, what I could have done to prevent this, what I can do now so she'll promise to never ever try to do it again. There isn't much I wouldn't do.

Selfishly, I just want her to be okay.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Burn The Witch 1 - Decoy [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Here we go my loves, the first chapter! ❤ I hope you like it, and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤

As always, I don’t own anything.

Word Count: 2200

Warnings: Mentions of blood, violence, death, manipulation, language.

Summary: Trouble has a way of following certain people.

Sometimes you wondered whether you would run away screaming when you were a child if you knew what kind of a person you would turn into.

It wasn’t exactly your fault though. For years and years, several people had put the blame on several different things. Eventually they would reach the same conclusion though; the psychiatrists, your superiors, the very few people you could call your family, they all agreed on one thing.

It wasn’t you, it was the abandonment.

The abandonment you went through when you were a teenager had somehow started this domino, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop this constant fall, not even you.

But as you would figure out soon, you were lucky. Instead of being consumed by your anger, you could direct it somewhere else. You were recruited and trained from a very young age, and somewhere along the way, you realized that if you wanted to survive you were going to have to sacrifice certain things.

Forgiveness was the first one to disappear. Guilt was another.

Then fear.

Then, love.

Ah well. Worse things happen in the world every day.

If anything it made your job easier.

You cracked your neck and opened the door to your apartment, the key sticking to your fingers because of the blood on your hands for a moment and you made a face as you shut the door, leaning back.

A very long shower and a bottle of wine sounded like a good idea.

You placed your gun on the table, took the dagger strapped to your thigh out of its holster and got the knives out of the heels of your shoes before flinging yourself onto your couch and turning the TV on.

“Also called Sokovia Accords 2.0 by the critics—“

“What the superheroes think about this remains a mystery—“

“The first time caused a huge rift between Captain America and Iron Man but nobody knows the new Captain America Sam Wilson’s comment on it—“

You didn’t get to change the channel again when your phone started vibrating in your pocket, making you sit up straight. You muted the TV, and checked the caller I.D before you answered.

“Hey there.”

“Hi, how’s Paris?” the cheerful voice of your best friend reached you, “Had enough croissants yet?”

A small smile pulled at your lips. After your only parental figure had left you to go God knew where, General had decided to adopt you and raise you like a daughter. His actual daughter Chloe had welcomed you with open arms, and you had been best friends since then.

Her being the top analyst of the division didn’t hurt either.

“Mm hm, because that’s all I’m doing. Eating croissants, visiting museums—”

“Killing and maiming targets...” she mused, finishing your sentence for you and you heaved a sigh.

“Somehow that last one isn’t included in the city guide,” you pointed out. “Chloe, you know this is a line for—“

“Official contact from General, yeah yeah,” she said, “In my defense, you didn’t pick up the phone an hour ago when I called you from my phone.”

“Do you know how hard it is to use touch screen when your hands are covered in blood?”

“What happened to your sniper rifle, did it fall into Seine?”

“It required close combat,” you said, “And the target swallowed the chip before I could get it, so I had to perform a spontaneous autopsy.”

“Just so you know, whenever you talk about your job I have to watch like a hundred cute videos after I hang up.”

“Happens.” you said, “How’s everything?”

“You missed us already?”

You grinned, “Maybe.”

“Good, because dad wants you back. He’ll contact you any day now.”

Your head snapped up and you stood up from the couch, “Really?”

“Duh. Have you seen how negotiations for these new Accords are going? It’s going to be a mess and we need you here.”

“The second one hasn’t passed officially.”

“Well no, but you know how my father thinks.” she said and you tilted your head.

“Are we sure it’s General who wants me there and not you?”

“Okay, that was one prank ages ago and I didn’t hear the end of it!” she protested, “Don’t you trust me at all?”

“Nope.”

“You know, I’m being the perfect friend and calling you to give you some good news but if you’re going to be like this, my news can wait until you get here.”

You pulled your brows together, “What news?”

“What do I get in return?”

“My endless gratitude,” you deadpanned, “Come on. What news?”

“You can’t tell anyone yet but I think you’re getting a promotion.”

Your breath got caught in your throat, “You’re joking.”

“Don’t forget about me when you become a handler, you hear me?” She let out a laugh, I need friends in high places.”

“Your dad runs the division Chloe. It doesn’t get any higher than that.”

“That doesn’t count!”  

You pressed a hand over your chest, “Just— what kind of a promotion are we talking about?”

“I mean I snooped around his files and casually committed treason.” she said, “But even I don’t know yet. They must be still making the adjustments.”

You opened your mouth to reply but then your phone vibrated again and you lowered it to check the message on the screen.

It was simple but again, all his texts were simple and to the point.

From: General

Time to come back. Jet leaves in 2 hours.

Here goes my shower and wine night.

“Chloe?” you said, walking to the sink to wash your hands so that you could start packing, “You want anything from here? I’m coming home.”

                                              ***

The best thing about being on the move all the time was that you could pack in minutes and the division would take care of the things you had left behind.

Apartments, belongings-

Not that you carried any belongings with you, or bought any more than necessary. It would’ve made you form a bond, which was less than ideal for any spy.

You suppressed the yawn splitting your face and made your way to General’s office. This jet-lag was going to make your life pretty difficult in the following 24 hours, and you were painfully aware of it, but it wasn’t like you could just ask for some time to rest.

That could wait. Your job was more important.

“General?” you knocked on the half open door and he raised his head to look at you before motioning you to enter the room.

“Y/N,” he said, “Close the door please. It’s good to have you back.”

“Thank you sir.”

“Take a seat,” he said and you cleared your throat, then perched on the edge of the chair.

“I’ve heard you eliminated the threat and got rid of our target quite fast,” he said, “And we have the chip now.”

You nodded silently, pushing your hair behind your ear.

“Well, that shows me you’re ready for the next step,” he said “No reason to beat around the bush, you’re getting a promotion.”

Pride burst through your system but you tried to control your expression to stop the grin threatening to pull at your lips.

“Thank you sir.”

“Here are the details for your next mission,” he said, handing you a file that was stamped as Top Secret and you flipped the page to find information about your next identity.

Alias: Shrike

“Shrike,” you murmured to yourself, turning the pages, “Like the bird?”

“Mm hm. I assume you’ve heard about the Accords issue?”

You looked up, “Only a little,” you said, “The first one was a disaster and the government had to drop it after The Blip due to the public’s reaction, resurrected people insisted that the superheroes were the ones who saved them, not the government. Then the government said they would go over the details and change it in a way that would benefit both the public and the superheroes, but I haven’t seen the new version.”

“There were some adjustments but to be honest with you, it’s the same deal. We can’t have superheroes running wild with no orders,” he said, “I need you on both fronts, one with terminating specific targets, and one with….well, you’ll see.”

You flipped the page and blinked a couple of times, your stomach dropping.

You were good, but you weren’t that good.

“You- you’re sending me after Captain America, sir?”

“Ah no,” he said, “Don’t worry. Wilson doesn’t have a past we can use against him, and trust me, we checked. The guy is an actual hero but we need a bad guy.”

You turned the page and shut your eyes for a moment.

Bucky Barnes.

Right. You should’ve known.

The government wanted and needed Captain America on their side, but Bucky Barnes could fall for all they cared.

“Sir I appreciate your trust in my abilities but not even an army could take down the Winter Soldier the last time—” you started but General shook his head.

“Y/N, you’re not going to kill him,” he said, “That’s the second front I was talking about. We need you to get close to him, to form a personal bond and gather intel we can use in the future.”

You gawked at him, “I’m sorry?”

“Barnes is the perfect candidate. He can help us with necessary information to prove to the public that superheroes need to answer to someone; us. Besides if it all goes bad, we can just say he was a threat. With that kind of past no one would think he was innocent to begin with.”

Your head was spinning. Scratch that, the whole room was spinning.

You were good at finding and terminating targets, not forming personal bonds or playing this

“When you say get close to him….” You trailed off, your voice way too weak and he smiled slightly.

“You’re an attractive woman, I’m sure you’ll have no problem with that.”

That. That was your promotion.

Not an operations officer, not a handler, but a lover who also happened to kill people.

They were going to use you as a honey trap for him.

“Sir, I don’t think-“ you started, but he held up a hand.

“Before you say no,” he said, “Let me remind you that this will benefit your career greatly, and you will have your own team. Show us you can handle it, and the position you want will be within your reach, you have my word. You want to be a handler, don’t you?”

You dragged your fingernails on the file, deep in thought.

“Barnes is one of the many dangerous people we may need to stop one day, and the only way to do it is to keep him under control and learn everything he knows until we’re ready to take him in.”

“But if these new Accords don’t pass—“ you started but he shook his head.

“Even if they don’t, and that’s a big if,” he said, “He’s still a valuable asset to have. We all have to perform certain missions, Y/N. Even if we don’t particularly like them. You will thank me in the future, when your career flourishes.”

Your blinked a couple of times, a bitterness appearing in your mouth.

“Of course,” you managed to say, “You’re— you’re right sir. It’s a good plan. I accept the position.”

“Great!” he clapped his hands together, “We have a target for you for tomorrow night, there’s this gallery opening. He needs to be eliminated, I think you can handle that? Start planning how it will go with Barnes as well, we can’t lose any time.”

You pursed your lips together and closed the file, “Of course.”

“Congratulations.” he leaned in slightly, “Your dad would be so proud of you if he could see you now.”

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, but it felt like it was getting bigger and bigger.

“I don’t need his approval,” you rasped out and walked to the door, but stopped when you heard him speak.

“Shrike,” he used your alias for the first time and you looked over your shoulder.

“Yes?”

“I don’t have to remind you that this mission is top secret. If he figures out who you are, or what you’re up to…” he clicked his tongue, “Kill him.”

You paused for a moment, then tilted your head and smiled at him.

“As you wish, sir.” you managed to say, then walked out of his office as if someone was chasing you. You made your way straight to the bathroom and slammed the file on the marble counter, then pulled out the small picture sticking out from the corner. It was an old black and white picture of him with Steve Rogers, probably taken in the 40s, both of them smiling. 

When you lowered the picture to attach it back to the paper, your eyes caught the tiny print under his aliases.

Confirmed Kills: Exact number unknown (Credited with 100+ assassinations)

You were in way, way over your head now.

“Oh, fuck.”

                                  Chapter 2

[speakingofpsychosis]

How to find resources in your area!

Finding help, like a psychiatrist or therapist can be difficult. Medical help can be difficult to find as well.

Here are some options to try:

Call or visit your local health department. Some health departments have a mental health department attached, but if not, they can most likely provide you with the information for your town or city's public mental health center.

Call or visit your insurance company's website. Most insurances have an online provider look up where you can find care providers covered by your insurance, but if you call, they can give you that info on the phone.

If you're seeing a primary care doctor already, consider asking them for a referral to what service you need.

"Those won't work for me, what else do you have?"

Here are some links to websites that can help you with finding resources.

Learn what services NAMI (National Alliance of Mental Illness) provides here, then Find your local NAMI here.

The Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA) collects information on thousands of state-licensed providers who specialize in treating substance use disorders, addiction, and mental illness. Search for a provider near you in their directory here.

Need to apply for disability (SSI)? This website has all the things nobody tells you in easy terms.

List of resources for eating disorders can be found here.

this post will be edited to add more links and resources as i find them.

Want a specific question answered, looking for resources in your area and can't find any? Send me an ask, I'll do my best!

[bigskydreaming]

I kinda wanna fucking scream, so here, have a offline bullshit rant post.

So I’ve literally been trying to get my stupid fucking meds for over a MONTH now at this point, which I’m sure you can all see like, my mood is just wooooonderful these days. Not an excuse, casual reminder that yeah you do gotta take care of your own space so if my mood is dragging anyone down, I’m totes on board with blocking or unfollowing or y’know, burning me in effigy or something. Okay maybe not that last part. But still. You get it. And its not even that like, I need mood stabilizers per se, lol, so shout out to the armchair diagnosticians helpfully peppering my inbox still in their quest to oh so slickly be like ‘hey you’re a hot mess, take your hot messness away from tumblr’ like lol, didn’t ask.....nah, its mostly the perpetual lack of sleep and chronic pain issues that I have zero distraction from when my specific combo of meds isn’t able to let me actually weaponize my ADHD properly and power through that. Its a whole thing. Whatever. Just go with it.

POINT IS. So I’ve been trying to do this for over a month now, first obstacle was even just getting the money together for my refill appointment which is a whopping $150, because I have to pay out of pocket for mental health stuff these days because I had to switch my insurance over to something that paid out more heavily for physical benefits like my jaw surgery.....and because of the pandemic, and how many psychiatrists in my area and that I could actually reach aren’t taking new patients during the pandemic since most of them are conducting business virtually still, like, I have barely any resources for seeking out and trying new psychiatrist offices in the meanwhile that might charge less and I’m kinda stuck with the one I have because the last thing I can afford is to have like, NO psychiatrist at the moment, y’know?

So first I had to have that to even BOOK the appointment, which took forever because rent and food are a joy to accrue when you can barely manage to function as an actual employee of the capitalist machine ahfsklhflkahflakf, but so then I did that and like, got an appointment put on the books for August 19th. That was the soonest they could fit me in back when I paid them for my appointment about a week and a half ago. No, two weeks ago now? Eh, time is fake. ANYWAY, so that wasn’t gonna work for me, so basically the entirety of last week was devoted to constantly calling and trying to check in every other hour to see if they had any sooner cancellations I could take, because for whatever fucking reason, they just ‘don’t do’ a cancellation list wherein they call the next person on the list once they have a cancellation. Whatever.

So finally got a cancellation slot with a virtual appointment last Saturday night at random as fuck 8:40. Okay cool. Most of my refills are fairly simple, no real changes, but two are controlled substances so like, they have to do their due diligence and go through the proper protocols before giving me another prescription to one or whatever. Fine. Okay.

So I call the CVS they sent the prescription for my ADHD med to, the very next morning. One of the controlled substances, and the key med to like....making me functional instead of a rambling disjointed whirlibird of a thought emitter. Problem is, that medication is on back order. Won’t be in until Tuesday. Ugh. Okay, fine. Nothing I can do about it, because while the specific provider I spoke to in order to GET my refill prescriptions was taking an appointment the night before, the actual offices that schedule appointments and connect patients through to their providers was closed for the weekend, so I couldn’t even ask for them to send the scrip somewhere else.

SO. I go back to the CVS on Monday, hoping that maybe it came in early because not like I can do much else in the meanwhile. Course its not there, but oh well. I toy with the idea of calling to ask my provider to send the scrip to a different pharmacy (only had it sent to this one cuz its within walking distance to me, and since I can’t drive for medical reasons and Uber’s are expensive as fuck, just for errands, like, even though walking is sooooo not fun for me physically, like it is what it is). I decide against it because here’s another fun fact about this controlled substance....for security reasons, pharmacies don’t have to tell people over the phone if they have it in stock or not. Like, they won’t just say no we don’t have it in stock - I mean, they WILL say that, but that doesn’t actually mean anything because that’s what most of them say about that particular medication no matter whether or not they DO, and then just cite security protocols, so you have to actually GO to the store in question to ask them and even get a real answer to whether or not they even HAVE it in stock to FILL a prescription if its sent over. And no, the provider won’t just send scrips into several different pharmacies at once and just be whichever has it in stock can fill it - because again, controlled substance.

SO. I decide its not worth it to try getting the scrip sent over somewhere else, because I’d have to at least waste money on an Uber to even travel to various pharmacies and even check if they CAN fill it sooner than this one, when at least this place will have it in tomorrow. Its just one more day at this point.

Except then I go back on Tuesday. Oh sorry, don’t know why that other person told you we’d have our order in today, our shipments of that medication don’t come in until Wednesdays.

So I go back Wednesday. Success! They have it in stock. I go to pay, pulling out my goodRx coupon that was just printed out that morning, specifically citing the price for CVS at Target. The pharmacy manager says sorry, we don’t honor that coupon here for controlled substances like this one. I say: record scratch? He’s like yeah, that’s at the discretion of individual pharmacies, and we don’t honor that price for this specific medication, because we don’t want to attract customers only coming here to get that medication filled for that price. (This pharmacy is right at the edge of Inglewood and Culver City, for anyone who is familiar with those neighborhoods. The implications are exactly as they appear to be). So I’m like, what’s the regular generic price? He quotes me something that’s $180 more than the coupon, and thus $180 more than I have since I was focused totally on getting THIS amount ASAP, so I could get these meds so I could do more work and make more money. You see the train of thought. I’m like well that’s awesome, I don’t have anything close to that. Hey. Weird question. Why did nobody I talked to the past three days in a row that I’ve walked into this store in person to request this refill, like, mention this little tidbit about not honoring this coupon so instead of waiting for a backorder that would do me no good, I could have been spending that time having my prescription transferred somewhere that WOULD honor it?

He’s like, well did you mention to any of them that you’d be using a goodRx coupon for this particular medication? I said, yup. He said, you sure? I said well the specific process each time was I came in, I asked if this medication was in, they said what’s your name and date of birth, I provided that info, they said are you paying out of pocket, we don’t have valid insurance info for this on file for you, I said yup paying out of pocket with a goodRx coupon, they said *clickety clack of the keyboard* nope, sorry, we won’t have this medicine in until Tuesday, I mean Wednesday. 

He’s like, well you must be misremembering or they would have told you at the time that we don’t take GoodRx coupons on this medication. I’m like, dude, it was you. It was literally you that I spoke to two of those three times, right here at the counter, in person. I’m gonna go ahead and trust my memory of those interactions and what was said there over yours since you don’t actually remember having talked to me two times in the last three days. He’s like, I gotta go help another customer. There is no other customer. I leave. Fun day for everyone.

So then I call around town to at least check which CVS will actually honor the coupon I have and the price that I can afford to pay it at. I don’t bother asking if they even have the medication in stock because I know its not guaranteed to be a CORRECT answer, but at least I can see who accepts this damn coupon. Also, reason I’m only trying big brand pharmacies instead of smaller, hole in the wall ones is because again, controlled substance, and I know from experience that the bigger brand pharmacies are at least more likely to have that med in stock whereas most smaller ones tend to run out very quickly as they usually only get enough for their existing/regular customers and a little extra.

I find a CVS five miles away - not walkable, gonna have to Uber. Call my psychiatrist office again to ask them to transfer the scrip, front office says they’ll send the request to my provider, who usually checks and fulfills such requests in 24-48 hours. I’m like okay cool, can I get a phone call to let me know when that happens, so at least I know when to check back to follow up if it hasn’t happened yet for whatever reason? They’re like no, the pharmacy will send you a text or call when they get the prescription sent over and you can take it from there with them. I’m like okay, but I’ve done this a bunch of times and know from experience the pharmacy does NOT in fact always call or text, so is there a certain time to follow up to inquire if the provider has already sent the scrip and the pharmacy SHOULD have it by now or if the delay is on the provider’s end? Front office is like yeah no. I’m like, swell.

So that was yesterday. I call the pharmacy (which I still don’t even know if they have the medication IN STOCK to fill the scrip even once they GET the scrip, and won’t until I can actually Uber out there, but one thing at a time at this point) at like 9 pm, they’re a 24 hour pharmacy, and they’re like nope, we got nothing (this is after spending an hour and a half on hold to even TALK to someone at the pharmacy). Called them again today at noon, still nada. Technically I have another 29 hours before the window in which the provider is supposed to send the refill scrip to this new location, before I can be like, okay so they still haven’t done it, can we send him a nudge or another request. The 24-48 hour window will only actually EXPIRE after their offices close on Friday meaning it’ll be Monday before I can even actually REACH someone again to ask them to send the scrip again, if the pharmacy hasn’t ACTUALLY gotten it by Friday night, and pessimistically, I’m not super inclined to assume that they will at this point. 

I’m antsy, irritable, hungry because I don’t even know for SURE sure if the new pharmacy will ACTUALLY honor the coupon or say no sorry we don’t do that here either, whoever told you that was wrong, or if they’ll even actually have it in stock versus I’ll have to have it sent somewhere else AGAIN, so I have to pinch every penny possible in order to ensure I have the most money possible once my prescription IS filled in case the price is more than I expected again or in case I have to take Ubers there or further than I expected or basically....shit happens that I don’t expect. And this is what I’m basically spending all my time doing instead of working, because trying to get work done in this state is like....the harder I try to make it happen, the less it actually gets done, so I try and prioritize this and its roadblock after roadblock dragging out and wasting my time, and like yeah, I can post and shit while I’m doing this aka sitting on hold or walking around town trying to get shit filled because its fine if I ramble incoherently along the way in posts, but actual WORK work requires like....fucking coherency and succinctness and not having to stop and start every five minutes to call someone else, and oh yeah, being able to power through migraine spikes. And just.

I’m very annoyed about anything and everything to do with this shit. The hoops you have to jump through to even get the stuff that like....actualizes your hoop jumping ability, is just....*gnashing of teeth*

Anyway. So that’s my offline bullshit rant. Yay. The end.

[berriusagi]

Stomach Bug Ch1

Morning Sickness

idea from @beautiful-disasters-sunshine this is the first fanfic I’ve written in years. If it’s bad let me know I’m just trying my best since I like this idea. In this fic Mari and Dami are 17/18 and Hawkmoth has been defeated so there’s no fighting during this pregnancy. dialog heavy so sorry in advance.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

The rare occurrence of a quiet and peaceful morning was always nice to have in a city like Gotham where despair and misfortune seemed to thrive. Occasions like this are often cherished but everyone knows to be wary as anything could ruin the moment, such as the retching and coughing coming from the bathroom that had two very concerned women and equally concerned miniature god standing outside the door.

“Marigold, are you okay?” Ivy asked gently knocking on the door wincing as she heard another painful retch from the other side of the door, “Darling open the door please.”

“I’m-” another broken cough was heard breaking the weak voice in the bathroom, “I’m… okay just some food poisoning I think.” 

“Mari sweetie you’ve been puking your guts out for a week.” Harley said leaning on the door frame, “I don’t think it’s just some food poisoning. You need to see a doctor.”

“You’re a doctor,” Marinette said, her sickness seeming to have finally come to an end as she flushed the toilet.

“I’m a psychiatrist hon there’s a big difference.” Harley said looking at Ivy concerned as the sound of running water filled the silence as Marinette brushed her teeth, “We’re taking you to see a doctor if this was just a stomach bug you’d have gotten better by now.”

“She’s right Marinette,” Tikki said, settling onto Ivy’s shoulder as they all watched the door, “It’ll make us all feel better if you just see the doctor.”

Silence filled the area as they all waited for Marinette to reply before a soft sigh was heard and the door clicked open revealing an exhausted young woman, “I don’t want to be a bother.” she mumbled averting her eyes from the two women before her.

Ivy let out a soft sigh moving forward and pulled her close to her chest gently running her fingers through her hair as Tikki floated down to press into Marinette's neck to give her some comfort, “You are and never will be a burden to us, Marigold. We care for you and want the best so please don’t think something as unavoidable as getting sick is a burden.”

“She’s right darling we love you and want you to be safe and healthy so please let us take you to a doctor that’s licensed in medicine,” Harley said, stepping over to hug her effectively squishing Marinette between Ivy and herself.

Marinette closed her eyes and just took a moment to sort through her thoughts and take in the warmth of the two women that adopted her. Her life had been just on the wrong side of crazy for so long, Hawkmoth terrorizing everyone for having emotions, her friends and family turning on her because of one liar determined to ruin her life, having to hide her relationship from not only her very perceptive mothers but her boyfriends equally perceptive and just a touch insane family. All of that and now being sick with something just to put the cherry on top of an already bad situation. “Okay,” she mumbled after a prolonged moment and turned to bury her face into Ivy’s chest and breathed deep taking in the subtle earthy and floral notes that clung to her, “I’ll see a doctor.”

“Thank you,” Ivy smiled gently, kissing the crown of her head, and looked over at Harley with a measured look, “go and get ready and we’ll head on over to the clinic,” she said as both women stepped back to allow her to head over to her room.

Once she was gone and out of earshot Harley leaned over and in a stage whisper said, “10 bucks says she’s pregnant.”

“I’d disagree if not for the fact she’s trying to hide her relationship with the Wayne brat.” Ivy chuckled, shaking her head, “Let's hope it is just a stomach bug and not a stomach bug .” she said giving Harley a look as they went to change into more civilian clothing so as not to draw attention to themselves. 

The three women made their way into a small clinic and got checked in taking a seat in the corner out of the way of others. Marinette was seated between the two nervous and practically sweating bullets as she gripped her sweater while her mind raced. A soft pressing on her thigh from Tikki gave her some ease as she stared down at her trembling hands. What if she was really sick and the financial cost would put her mothers in debt? What if she wasn’t sick and this was all a waste of time? What if they already think she’s being a burden and are waiting for her to get called in so they can leave her? What if-

“Miss. Isley-Quinzel?” A nurse called cutting through Marinette's internal struggle.

“Ah here!” she said jumping up her face beat red as she quickly made her way over to the nurse with her mothers following close behind.

“I’m sorry only one of you can come back.” The nurse said looking at the two women.

“I’ll stay this article was gettin good,” Harley said flopping back down into her seat and reopened the gossip rag she was reading. Ivy shook her head smiling and placed a comforting hand on Marinette’s shoulder and walked with her into the small room.

“So Miss what are you in for today?” the nurse asked closing the door so they could all have privacy and took a seat.

“I’ve been throwing up for the past week,” Marinette said taking a seat on the paper-lined table keeping her head down.

“Any other symptoms?” the nurse asked looking over the file in her hands, “fever, headaches, muscle pain?” they asked.

“No nothing like that… I have been getting more sick after eating, maybe I have food poisoning?” Marinette asked.

“Are you sick after eating every time or only certain foods?” the nurse asked.

“I’m not sure I haven’t paid much attention to what I eat that’s causing me to be sick,” she mumbled.

The nurse nodded making some notes, “well just to rule it out I’ll need you to take a pregnancy test.” they said, grabbing a little plastic cup and handing it to Marinette, “bathroom is just to the right of this room go fill this cup and we’ll see if we can get you some answers.” they smiled and opened the door to let Marinette out.

Marinette turned scarlet and then pale as she walked out of the room and went to the bathroom. Ivy watched her leave before pulling out her phone and sent a quick text to Harley, ‘Marigold is taking a pregnancy test. She looks terrified.’

‘I really think she’s pregnant. She’s been sick and she’s been turning away from some of her favorite foods.’ Harley shot back after a few moments.

Ivy nodded putting her phone away as Marinette came back and took her seat on the table once more. She seemed to be running through the worst possible scenarios as her face slowly morphed from a sickly pale to an even sicklier green as they waited for the nurse to return with the results. 

What felt like hours to Marinette was only a few minutes as a doctor came in smiling softly to Marinette and Ivy. “Hello, I’m Doctor Beau.” She smiled pulling a seat over and looked over the file given, “You came in for problems with nausea?”

“Yes, my daughter has been throwing up all week and we’re concerned,” Ivy said as it looked like Marinette wouldn’t be able to speak without being sick again.

“It is quite concerning and as you know we do have to rule out certain options before we can administer tests.” Dr. Beau nodded looking over the files once more, “The pregnancy test we had your daughter take came back positive.” she said gently trying to gauge the two women.

Marinette went stock still as tears began to well in her eyes clouding her vision as her world seemed to come crashing down around her. Ivy moved quickly to stand by Marinette wrapping her up in a hug and stroked her hair and back. “It’s okay Marigold,” she soothed, grabbing some tissues to clean her face, “It’s going to be okay just breathe.”

“I can’t tell you what to do Miss.” Dr. Beau said, gaining Marinette’s attention, “However, I can give you some pamphlets and a referral to a nice OB-GYN, they can help you make the choice best for you.” she smiled gently getting up and wrote a quick script before handing it to Ivy along with some pamphlets. 

Everything after seemed to happen in a blur. Marinette didn’t fully process anything until she was being seated on a soft couch and felt two bodies pressing firmly to either side of her. “Mari, sweetie, please talk to us.” Harley’s accented voice softly sounded from her left broke the dam on her emotions as she let out a broken sob.

“I’m- I’m sorry.” she cried curling in on herself as the two women quickly wrapped her up in a firm hug as Tikki pressed into her cheek all three talking over each other trying to soothe her.

“Marigold it happens.” Ivy said gently holding her face, “We’re not mad, disappointed, or upset with you.” she said wiping her face, “We are here to help you and support you in any decision you decide to make.”

“Do ya know who the daddy is?” Harley asked gently, rubbing her back trying to get her to settle down just a bit. Marinette took a shaky breath, her face blotchy and nose stuffy as she nodded her head, “Here’s what we’re gonna do okay hon. I’m goin to go make you some calming tea and you are goin to call your boyfriend and tell him to come over here. Okay?” she asked looking in Mari’s eyes.

Marinette nodded scrubbing her face with her sleeve as Tikki pulled her phone up for her to take.

~.~.~.~

On the other side of Gotham seated for breakfast and contemplating the benefits of mass homicide, Damian was eating his food as his family did their best to make him go off the deep end.

“I’m just saying!” Jason said munching on some bacon, “Maybe if he got laid he wouldn’t have a stick so far up his a-”

“That is enough Jason,” Bruce stated firmly as he rubbed his eyes exhaustion clearly written all over his face.

“You just don’t want to hear my reasoning,” Jason said flicking a piece of toast at him.

“No, I want to remain ignorant of my child's sex life. I already had to deal with Dick telling me everything I rather not hear your speculations.” He glared as the table fell silent for a few blissful moments as they all turned to look at a shameless Dick who just smiled and shrugged before a loud ringing cut through and all eyes turned to Damian as he pulled out his phone.

“Hello?” he asked his usual annoyance bleeding through before he seemed to pause as the other person on the line spoke, “What’s happening?” he asked as he quickly got to his feet, worry clear on his face as he rushed out of the room, “I’m coming habibti please stop crying.” was the last thing the other Wayne’s heard before the front door slammed shut.

“What...” Jason started staring wide-eyed at where Damian just vanished through

“...just happened?” Dick finished looking just as confused before everyone turned to look at Bruce for his reaction.

“Habibti means my love,” Bruce said in lieu of an answer as they all then turned to look at Tim as he tapped away on a tablet.

“Already tracking him,” Tim said as silence settled back over the room as everyone tried to process what just happened. In the opinion of everyone gathered it took much too long for Tim to tell them where Damian left in such a hurry before finally looking up at everyone and said, “He’s at Harley and Ivy’s.”

~.~.~.~

Damian quickly knocked on the door, his clothes a little disheveled and his hair a bit messy from his mad dash across the city to the apartment housing the Isley-Quinzels. Ivy opened the door and stepped aside to allow him to enter and watched as he ran over to Marinette who was on her fourth cup of calming tea her tears now dry but her mind still frazzled.

“Habibti, are you okay?” he asked, dropping in front of her as her eyes began to well with a new wave of tears, and sobs began to wrack her small body once more. Damian quickly picked her up holding her close and rubbed her back as she choked out apologies sobbing into his shoulder. “Habibti, you're making me really worried; what happened?” he asked, trying to get her to look at him.

Marinette took a slow shaky breath before pulling back and looked at him, her bluebell eyes filled with unshed tears before she softly croaked out, “I’m... pregnant.” 

Damian’s eyes widened just slightly as he took in what she said a cold chill settling over his body as he stumbled back falling into the chair Harley quickly moved behind him to catch him. Marinette let out another sob and moved to get out of his hold only for him to hold onto her tighter, “You’re pregnant?” he asked just above a whisper as he stared through her.

She nodded biting her lip hard as she waited for him to shout, shove her away, anything to show his anger. Instead, he pulled her even closer burying his face in her neck, and let out a shaky laugh, “You’re pregnant.” he muttered, “I- I’m going to be a father.” he said, pulling back to look at her.

Tension seemed to leave Marinette like snow melting at the beginning of spring as she weakly smiled at him nodding, “If...” she coughed to clear her throat and scrubbed her face with her sleeve again to look at him, “If you want to...” she mumbled.

“Of course I want to Habibti.” Damian breathed hugging her tightly before pulling back to look down at her stomach and gently ran his fingers over the covered flesh, “I can’t believe this.” he muttered looking at her with awe.

Harley and Ivy smiled watching the two have their heartfelt moment before deciding to break it, “What’s your dad gonna say?” Harley asked cutting through the tender moment with as much grace as a blunt axe.

Damian felt another cold wave wash over him at the mention of his father as his eyes widened, “My family doesn’t know about you.” he muttered looking at Marinette.

“They’re going to think I did this to trap you,” Marinette mumbled her face going to a sickly green as she shoved her way out of Damian's arm and ran into the bathroom slamming it shut as retching filled the apartment once more.

“You have to tell them.” Harley said watching Damian, “before she starts showing she’s small so it’ll be obvious soon enough.”

The apartment fell into silence with the only sound being Marinette’s morning sickness for a long while before a ringing cut through and Damian pulled out his phone. Father clear as day showing on the screen for the awaiting call. Damian stared at it until it went silent and then lit up with another incoming call from Bruce. “I have to answer don’t I?” he asked looking over at Ivy and Harley.

“Unless you want them all stormin in here then yeah,” Harley said, sipping some of the tea she made for Marinette.

Damian sighed and took a deep breath before answering the call, “Hello father.”

[megsmulti]

Day 2: “If we don’t get out of here-” “We will!”

First off, before I begin, I just want to give a special thank you to @fighterkimburgess for introducing me to this rare, but beautiful, ship. I know you’re going through some things right now, so I hope this puts a smile on your face!

This takes place around s3 of Med, around the time when Sarah Reese’s father comes to Chicago. 

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

Sarah Reese was not having a good day. Or week as far as she was concerned. Her father came back into town and at first, she was elated to see him, but now that she found out that he’s supposedly a psychopath, how was she supposed to feel about all of this? 

She had a patient waiting up in the psych ward, so she decided to take the elevator because she was almost late and she didn’t want to keep them waiting any longer. However, someone else wanted to take the elevator as well. 

“Dr. Reese,” Connor said. 

“Dr. Rhodes,” Sarah replied.

“How are things with your dad going?” He was the doctor that was working on the man’s heart after all, so it never hurt to check in. 

“Oh, same ol, same ol.” A ding sound was heard and the elevator opened. Connor let Sarah go first, being ever the gentleman. There was no one else coming, so it looks like it will be just the two of them heading up to where they needed to go. 

The elevator was working fine and dandy for about a minute or so until it started moving frantically and the lights were flickering all over the place, jerking both of them around. 

“Whoa!”

“What the hell?” Connor muttered. The elevator suddenly stopped. “Great, just great!” He slammed his hand on one side. “Of course, on the day I have a huge surgery planned!” The lights came back on. 

“I’m sorry, Connor.” 

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault.” He looked up at the ceiling. “Looks like it’s just the two of us for a while.” Sarah nodded. Boy, did the day just get longer. 

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

About half an hour passed since Connor and Sarah got trapped in the elevator. They tried everything, including pressing buttons on the panel, (yes, they did call the fire department without a phone signal) to finding weird and obscure ways out. Obviously, they were unsuccessful. 

“I swear to god, if we don’t get out of here-” Connor said, patience running way past thin now. 

“We will!” Sarah replied. Neither one of them could blame the other for being on edge. Their patients were probably worried sick and it’s all because a damn elevator decided to be stubborn. 

Connor leaned on the side wall and sat down. He figured if he was gonna be stuck inside this thing for a while, he might as well rest while doing so. 

“Sarah, I’m sorry I’m springing all of my anger onto you.” She didn’t seem worried about it in the slightest. “It’s just that every time a surgery of mine gets canceled for some reason, Dr. Bekker ends up gloating about hers when she gets done with the patient she was working on.” Sarah just looked at him, seeing if he’ll say more. “I’m just tired of it. Tired of needing to prove myself to be validated. I’ve already had enough of that throughout my life as it is.”

“I understand.” Connor looked up. “What you’re going through.” He was confused. “I lied earlier when you asked me how things with my dad were going.” 

“Well, how are they going?” 

Sarah sighed. Looks like it was her turn to confide in him. “Not that great. Apparently, Dr. Charles received a package that contained newspaper clippings of women that went missing. My dad taught in those exact same cities on the exact same days of those incidents.” Connor widened his eyes, not liking where this was going. “Come to find out he murdered them.” She was in tears at this point and he wasn’t sure what to do. “I didn’t know about all of this until a few days after he got the package.” 

“God, Sarah. No one deserves to go through that.” Sarah swears she’s heard that message a million times before. She knew Connor meant well, but that sentence gets old real fast. “How do you feel about all of this?” 

“That’s the thing, I don’t know. I don’t know whether to be angry at my dad for killing innocent women and being some kind of deranged lunatic or whether to be mad at Dr. Charles for keeping something this important from me for so long.” 

“Just go with your gut.” Connor’s really piling on the wisdom today, isn’t he? “Go with your gut and see where it takes you.” He added on a light smile at the end of his spiel. 

“I’m also worried that I’ll end up a psychopath.” 

“Sarah, if I know anything about you, it’s that you are super loyal to your patients. I know damn well that you didn’t stop until you got a diagnosis on Robin when she was sick. You were the only person I trusted to be her psychiatrist because I know you would shoot me straight and not give me pity like everyone else would’ve.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah. You’re also willing to step up to the plate and help out when needed, even if the patient isn’t yours. That’s the kind of person you are and I am so happy and grateful to be friends with that person.” Connor full well knew what was going on inside Sarah’s head. He was telling her that she won’t end up like her father. It’s the same message that he’s been trying to tell himself for years. 

“Thanks, Connor. I know you weren’t planning on being a therapist to a psychiatrist of all people, but I needed that.” He laughed. Leave it to Connor Rhodes to make you feel better even when he’s not in the best of moods himself. 

Both of them heard a noise outside the elevator. Tools were being inserted inside and a lieutenant was barking orders at his crew. CFD must have showed up and they weren’t paying attention. Within minutes, the door to the elevator opened and they were able to get out. Everyone in the ED crowded around, worried about their friends. 

Connor & Sarah might not have been super close, but it took the two of them being stuck in an elevator to feel like more than that. Not more than platonic, but closer than ever before. Their friendship is not going to be taken for granted again, that’s for sure. 

[punk-rock-unicorn]

The Library

Fandom: MCU

Pairings: Baron Helmut Zemo x Reader

Summary: Bucky and Sam take a pit stop in London before going to Madripoor. Bucky does not trust any line Zemo has on a fence. To bad you are not the better option.

A/N: My first Tumblr post and my first attempt at a reader/you centered story. Hopefully, it is good. May make a sequel to this. For right now it will just stay Teen for Sexual Tension.

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

"Where are we even going?" Sam asked as he trailed after Bucky. Their unwelcome tag along followed at their heels. His coat fitting the rainy city more than Sam's own clothes as they walked. The neighborhood they were in was filled with tall buildings and the city of London was confusing. Bucky scowled but did not respond just yet. His eyes glued to his phone as he looked at it. He dodged a man who did not even glance at the odd group. Or seemed to notice the terrorist following at their heels. "Seriously man where are we...?" Sam asked annoyed as his hand reached out to grab Bucky's shoulder.

Bucky turned around with a glare directed at the other man. His eyes slipping to Zemo who only looked around the British city curiously. "I swore it was somewhere near here," he said and looked around the dreary city that had a slight drizzle of rain falling from the city. "I know we are close," he added before turning around and continuing walking. Sam looked at his back before shifting his eyes to Zemo who only did a tilt to his head.

"Seriously Bucky!" He called as he walked after him. He ignored the man following him as well as he could. At this point they were just using him for his jet. Though what Bucky wanted in London was anyone's guess. "What the fuck are you looking for?" Sam asked with an almost yell.

"Not a what," Bucky called over his shoulder. "A who." The tall man swore as he looked around the buildings that all looked the same.

"Wouldn't happen to be looking for me would you?" A slight British accented voice called before stepping out of an alleyway towards the three. The three men tensed and looked towards the person coming out of the shadows. A simple black jacket and trousers all they had on.

"Had to make it hard to find you didn't you?" Bucky called after calling your name. You had watched the boys since they entered the neighborhood curious on their location and where they needed to go. Not that it was that hard to figure out considering Bucky had texted you while you were gone. You smirked at the man and stepped closer with your hands in your pockets.

"Good to see you, Bucky," you greeted and your eyes slipped to the other two. One you knew from your adventure on the battlefield against Thanos. "Sam Wilson," you said and nodded to him with a smile. The second man you recognized as well but for a totally different reason. "Is there a reason Helmut Zemo is wandering around London free from prison?" You asked the two with a raised eyebrow.

"Bucky did it," Sam said simply with the same energy of a sibling tattling to their mother. Your eyes met the terrorist's eyes curiously. He had brown eyes and a beautiful face. His outfit was also stylish and the fur on his collar unique enough.

"Technically, he did that himself," Bucky muttered under his breath with a shrug. You released a sigh and rubbed at your face. "Can you bring us inside?" He asked you and you sighed.

"Fine," you said and looked around the street. It was empty and you walked a couple feet forward to face a nondescript building. With a flash of gold glyphs and a rippling of air the building unlocked. Sam and Bucky did not look surprised but Zemo did. You smirked at him. "Welcome to the London Sanctum of Magic," you said as you entered the building with the rich and warm interior. "Please touch nothing. I am the only Sorceress here at this time."

With that you led them to a nice sitting room with comfy couches. The interior was very British and almost ancient in design. You had always hated it growing up honestly. It felt too stuffy but now it was fine. Not that you had time to bitch about interior decorating choices. "So can I interest any of you gentleman in a cup of tea?" You asked and smiled at the group as they sat in the chairs provided.

Bucky and Sam sitting on one love seat while Zemo sat in an arm chair. "No," Bucky said before anyone else could. You saw Zemo open his mouth to say something but shut it at a glare from Bucky. "We need your help," he added with a scowl. His eyes glaring at Zemo who said nothing. Though he was looking at you curiously.

"Sorry I am not a psychiatrist," you said with a sarcastic smile. "Have you tried the place three blocks away? They have amazing biscuits." Bucky and Sam glared at you though it lacked any true heat. The criminal mastermind terrorist however chuckled under his breath. His eyes were deviously interesting you had to say. Something about him drew the eye. Or maybe it had been a long time where your only interaction was either Doctor Strange, Wong, or young initiates.

"We need to go to Madripoor," Bucky explained and you barely withheld your snort at the mention of that horrible place. "You mentioned that you had a line on someone."

"What and Daddy Warbucks can't help you?" You groused as you stared at the three. You sat on the arm of one chair and you watched a smirk curl the man's face.

"Well I could always be your dad-" he started to say when Sam exclaimed loudly in disgust. You threw your head back with a laugh. It had been a long time since you could have this much fun verbally sparring with someone.

"Now is not the time!" Sam cried out with a sneer. You snorted and looked at all three. "You have seen the news right? The Flag Smashers. They have super soldiers. We need to find who supplied the formula." Sam was trying to beseech to your desire to save others. Too bad he was barking up the wrong tree.

"Mate," you answered with a scoff. "I am a sorceress. My job is to protect this Sanctum, train initiates, protect artifacts, and listen to the Sorcerer Supreme, which you are not. I have no reason to care about some terrorists. No offense." You looked at Zemo and shrugged. He answered with a tight lipped smile.

"We just need your contact's information in case his line falls through," Bucky said as he tried to get between you and Sam. You met Bucky's eyes and glared as he gave you an almost puppy dog look. Damn him. You sighed and ran your hand through your hair.

"Fine," you hissed and stood up. "But it will have to wait till tomorrow. I'll send a message and hopefully get a response. Let me go get my phone. Bloody hell. I hate heroes." You grumbled and moved out of the sitting room. "Library is that way and kitchen that way," you said poking your head back in. "If the book looks ancient and probably bound in human skin do not touch it. Be right back."

----------

You grumbled and stared at the sent text before stepping back downstairs. You threw your jacket over a table in the library before stepping into the room. "Machiavelli," you heard a voice call as a gloved finger ran over the backs. "Epictetus, and some good classics here." You turned around to see the Baron of Sokovia pretty much fingering the spine of the books. "Do you actually have books bound in skin?" He asked and you smirked at him.

"Probably," you said with a laugh. "My parents always warned me about them. Most of our more important books are in the other part of the library." You stepped closer to the man who had a good lead on you height wise. "You can read anything you want here," you added with a dismissive shrug. "Most of it is in English. Figure that won't be a problem. Even got some Harry Potter somewhere."

His eyebrow raised and you snickered before sitting on the top of the table and watched him. His own coat was off and showed a turtleneck that fit him nicely. At least he was pleasant to look at even if the two Avengers wanted your help. "A little on the nose is it not?" He asked and you chuckled before your hands moved. A steaming cup of tea now rested in your hands while the tray sat behind you with another cup. "Two sugars, please," he said as he glanced back. A book about the Marquis de Sade in his hands. Philosophy of the Bedroom probably. You added the amount requested before handing him a cup. A breath going over your own before you sipped the rich taste.

He set the book back in its proper place and took a sip of the tea. Brown eyes met your own and you never thought tea drinking would almost turn you on. You could see his tongue on the edge of the cup and you licked your lips before sipping your own tea again. Almost burnt your tongue this time. "Which is your favorite classic?" He asked as he set the cup down. His arm sliding next to your side just so before he placed it on the saucer. Your eyes went to him and down to his wet lips. You wanted to lick the tea off of them and do some other naughty things to him.

"Would have to go with the Count of Monte Cristo," You answered with a grin at him. He pulled back with the gracefullness of an emphereal spirit. You almost wanted to grab his arm and pull him back. "Where are Thing One and Thing Two?" You asked as his back faced you. You could see a smirk twist his face before he went over more books. Skipping classics and philosophy to go to other sections. You watched him go as you looked him up and down. He had a nice body you had to say.

"Oh?" He asked and stepped back with a book. "And what about this?" You were sipping your cup of tea when the title was clearly shown. Fifty Shades of Grey. You choked on your tea at the look on his face.

"That is not mine!" You called out as you tried to clear the tea from your windpipe. You did not even think there was an erotica section in the library. You were trying to figure out where it came from when you smelled his cologne wash over you. Your eyes peeking up at him as you stayed in your spot against this table. His grin was salacious and dripping sin. The book was in his hands as he reached for his cup of tea again.

A smirk on his handsome face as those gloved fingers ghosted across your side. You saw his leg step close in between yours from how you were sitting. Bloody hell you wanted nothing more than for him to take you against the table. Or at least kiss you. How long had it been since you could snog anyone? "Charming snake," you hissed to him though your lips twisted in a smile.

"Why do you want to taste my forked tongue?" He teased as his lips ran over your own. You felt them tingle and you could feel your control failing as you met his eyes.

"Would rather have you taste me, love," you teased as your fingers ran over his chest. He had some nice muscles and you giggled as you heard a growl leave his throat. His lips pressed against you and you could almost taste a mix of tea and wine as you bunched up his shirt. Before you could even deepen the kiss or taste his forked tongue the library door slammed open.

"Oh come on!" A voice shouted. "Really?!"

Part 2

@joyfulinternettraitor

[giorno-plays-piano]

Rx Queen

Pairing: criminal!Bucky Barnes x Reader 

Warnings: obsession, stalking, non-con, breeding, minor depiction of violence.

Words: 2567. 

Summary: James Buchanan Barnes was the most difficult patient you had ever treated as a criminal psychiatrist. His release from prison doesn’t make things easier for you. 

_____________________________________ 

You turned off the phone and threw it on a chair, clenching your teeth. Whatever Dr. Strange wanted you to do, you wouldn’t stay another day in this goddamn place, waiting to be abducted or even murdered. It was too much. Today you found the new bottle of your favourite perfume on your nightstand. It wasn’t there before you went to bed last night. In fact, you could hardly remember the last time you bought yourself a perfume.

It all started two months ago when James Buchanan Barnes, the patient you had been working with during those seven long years, was finally released from State prison after serving 15 years of life sentence. The Soldier, as prisoners called him, once gone mad and murdered his commander. Bucky – that’s how he asked you to call him during your first seance – had PTSD, antisocial personality disorder, and severe depression. You could say he became better after all those years of treatment, including insane doses of antidepressants and mood stabilizers, but it was not enough to set him free. He was dangerous, psychotic even, yet devilishly clever: he knew how to portray a man who had reconsidered his life choices and deeply regretted taking someone’s life. 

You knew he had never truly cared. Patients like him did not have capacity for remorse.

You started treating him once you became a criminal psychiatrist; Bucky was among your very first patients. Now when you thought of it, you could hardly believe Dr. Strange just transferred a patient like him to you, a young girl with too little experience to handle an unpredictable psychopath hiding behind a façade of a victim. Of course, you made many mistakes, starting from telling Bucky about your own past and some mental issues. That time you believed you can gain trust of your patients by being more open about yourself. You were a complete idiot.

Now there was not much to do once his time in prison was up. You didn’t have true evidence to make him stay. A part of you wasn’t even sure you wanted it – when a riot had started in the prison three years ago, it was Bucky who shielded you with his own body from Brock Rumlow, a serial killer and your second most dangerous patient. Bucky was the only reason you were still alive.

But he was also the reason why you were leaving in haste, packing only necessities. 

It all started quite innocently with him sending you flowers and thanking for everything you had done for him. It didn’t alert you that he knew what your favourite flowers were. You thought it was just a coincidence since bouquets like these were sold in any flower shop in the city.

Then you stumbled upon him in a café where you often had your breakfast on weekends. It could alert you, but Bucky was sitting with a charming red-haired woman, her manicured hand resting on his thigh. She didn’t quite strike you as his sister, especially since you knew he had no relatives left after his violent father died in a car accident. Seeing such a beautiful woman with him just two weeks after Bucky was released from a prison was surprising, but you knew how seductively charming Barnes could be. Besides, he looked really good in his biker jacket, his tight black jeans showing his strong muscular legs.

In the end, you just talked to both of them a little and gave your advice on which dishes to choose. You walked away, praying you were wrong about Bucky and hoping he could settle peacefully like some of your former patients. Actually, even though many of them were imprisoned again, others were able to return to normal life. Some even had families now – from time to time you received thank-you notes with nice photos and many heartwarming words. It was probably one of the few things that made you keep your job.

It was over now. You were not going to stay in a place Bucky break into multiple times. Maybe you were not sure before, but the bottle of perfume was an obvious sign. It also meant that when a week ago you woke up and smell a man’s scent on your sheets you were not delirious. Bucky was there. He was laying beside you on your fucking bed.

How did it happen? Why didn’t you see his obsession growing with each day? You were his psychiatrist; you knew him better than anyone. How could he hide his infatuation with you for so long? Of course, you knew he had some feelings for you, but it was never that bad. You thought he would forget about you once he would be released. In the end, now you were not the only woman he saw around.

You kept stumbling upon his beefy figure more and more often. You realized Bucky was stalking you when after a month of his release you saw him watching your house from the forest. He was hiding behind the trees and bushes. It was a miracle you managed to see him at all – after 15 years he was still the Soldier, his skills remaining keen.

You tried talking to Dr. Strange. It wasn’t your first time being followed by your former patient, and police had always assisted you. But Barnes wasn’t like any of those stupid psychos who left tons of evidence behind them. Police had nothing to work with.

Well, you weren’t going to sit there and wait for Barnes to come and get you. You had no idea what was going on in his unstable mind, and you weren’t ready to take risks. You had already booked a flight to Austria tonight.

It was scary, thinking about wandering around a city you had never been, in a foreign country where you had neither relatives nor friends. But Barnes would have a hard time following you there, and that’s what mattered.

You threw a pack of salted cashew in the bag and returned to the bedroom to grab your phone from the chair. It wasn’t there. Although you dropped it just five minutes ago, your phone simply wasn’t there.

You were so fucked.

Next minute you were in the kitchen grabbing a knife, but a strong muscular arm knocked it out of your hand, and you felt Bucky’s musky scent. He stood behind your back, caging you with his bulky arms. You froze and held your breath. You knew you better obeyed the man instead of provoking him to become violent.

“And where were you going, honey?” His husky voice was enough to make you tremble. “It’s not nice to leave without saying goodbye, is it?”

“Please, Bucky.” You did your best to hide how frightened you were. “Stop.”

“No, honey.”

He leaned closer to you and buried his nose in your hair, inhaling its smell. His rough hands were already caressing your body through the clothes.

“You’re free to start a new life. You can find a good woman, have a family if you’d like.” Panic was rising in your chest. 

“That’s exactly what I’m doing.”

“No, Bucky, it’s not.” You said in a calm voice. “It will only get you back behind the bars. Don’t throw away your life, please.”

“What life?” He growled, turning you around harshly, and you almost fell on his chest, his arms holding you still. “I have no life. I should have never left my cell, you know this better than anyone else. I’m rotten. Damaged goods. I will never have the life I’ve always wanted. Do you know I have nightmares every fucking night again?”

“It’s because you don’t take your pills.” You carefully put your hands against Bucky’s chest. He tried manipulating you, you knew that. “When was the last time you had thioridazine?”

“Stay with me, and I’ll take whatever pills you want me to.” He grinned suddenly, cupping your face. 

Bucky’s strong athletic body emanated heat, and you were already sweating from both his closeness to you and an extreme agitation. Why did it take you so long to leave? You should have done it the first thing in the morning, just grab your documents and money and run to the car. Maybe then you had a chance. Unless Bucky had already been hiding inside your house…

“Why do you want to make a wrong choice again?” You felt his heart beating loudly with your palm against his chest. “You are given a chance to start over. If you want me to consult you still, I can figure something out. I can continue helping you, but you need to find your way. Don’t you think it’s good to meet new people, have friends, find a job, date a girl?”

“Who wants to deal with a psychopath like me?” He let out a chuckle, his expression darkening. “No one can handle me, doc. No one but you. Do you know I wanted to commit suicide before you showed up seven years ago? If not you, they’d already buried me.”

Before you opened your mouth to protest, he turned you around again and gently nudged you towards your bedroom. You broke out in cold sweat. If Bucky was able to outpower Rumlow, that beast of a man, he would have no problems forcing you to do whatever he pleased. It took three strong prison guards to bring someone like Bucky down. You were helpless.

“No one out there is good enough.” His breath was tickling your ear. “You’re the only one, can’t you see? Maybe I’m rotten to the core, but you still helped me. You made me better.”

You stopped in front of your bed, the white cotton sheets and blue blanket crumpled. You stormed off early in the morning once you saw a bottle of perfume on the nightstand and didn’t care to make your bed.

You needed to keep calm. As far as you could see, Bucky didn’t plan to murder you, not when you would accept him, that is. He obviously had a nice plan how to make you stay with him without police knowing, but as long as he kept you alive you still had a chance. You needed to play along.

“On the bed.” He let out a low growl, and you felt the bulge in his pants pressing against your ass.

Shivering, you took off your slippers and sat on the bed facing him. His erection was obvious; Bucky was breathing heavily, his pupils dilated. The next second he was pulling his black t-shirt over his head, and you saw his shredded body littered with scars. You saw one particularly long one on the side close to his waistline: this was the one Rumlow gave him when Bucky was protecting you during the riot. The man let out a quiet laugh when he saw your eyes focused on a nasty pink line.

“Why are you frightened, honey? I know you want a family too. You good-for-nothing ex wasn’t able to give it to you, but I can.” His hands landed on your bared shoulders, and you flinched a little. “Let’s get married, and I swear I’ll do whatever you tell me to.”

“Bucky, relationships don’t work like this.” You whispered, withholding a cry when his hand pushed you down on the bed. 

“Don’t they?” The man smiled and cocked his head to the side, removing his black leather belt. “You do something for me, I do something for you. That’s what I learnt in prison.”

You dragged yourself back as quickly as you could, but your back was pressed into the wall once Bucky put his knee on your bed. There was nowhere to run.

“Don’t be scared, honey.” His sweet voice broke the silence, and he crawled to you, slowly caging you with his bodyweight. “Let’s make a deal. You marry me, you bear my child, and I will return to prison. I don’t care if they’ll give me twice more pills or make me a lethal injection as far as you take care of my kid. You’ll love my kid, won’t you? You’ll take care of them. You’ll make them a better person than I am.”

The more he spoke, the more feverishly he touched you, his left hand pinning your palms above your head. He traced his arm along your breast, ripping your shirt with so much force that its green buttons ended on the floor. You realized your cheeks were wet with tears when Bucky kissed you on the forehead and wiped your face with his other hand.

He wanted to have kids with you. Why? Why you? Why did he consider you a perfect mother? Why did he consider returning to prison? Why was he ready to trade his goddamn life for a chance of having a child? Why couldn’t he have a child with someone else and just keep living?

Oh, of course he couldn’t. Bucky loathed himself. It wasn’t uncommon for the patients with Cluster B personality disorders, and it was probably true he wanted to end his life since you saw his self-destructing behavior. In the end, even his effort to save your life back than in the prison might be some kind of a suicide attempt. 

And the reason he wanted you and no one else… Well, you were the one who had been taking care of him all these years. The only one to navigate him through his nightmares when everyone else gave up on him. He saw good in you. He wanted it for himself. He wanted to make sure his child would never be treated the way he was.

You cried out when Bucky suddenly forced his cock into you. It felt like he was ripping you apart – he was huge. Your eyes flooded with tears again, and he cooed at you softly, pressing his chapped lips to your burning face. You couldn’t even remember when was the last time you had sex since you broke up with your ex a year ago. Thankfully, Bucky gave you time to adjust. He kept whispering filth into your ears and stroking your naked thighs. When did he take off your jeans?..

He kissed the top of your head, playing with your hair, and moved his hips slightly. You hissed in pain, but then realized it was a bit better – the pleasure started building up slowly, and you squeezed your eyes shut. No, no, you were not disgusting, your body tried to cope the best way it could, nothing else, it was a perfectly normal reaction, you knew that. Then you felt Bucky licking up the shell of your ear and whined desperately.

“It’ll be ok.” He whispered and kissed your temple. “I’ll take you to a nice place, and we’ll be there all alone. Once I make sure you’re pregnant I’ll return to prison, I give you my word.”

You bit down on your lip to muffle the noise coming out of your mouth.

“If they keep me alive, I might become your patient again.” He sounded almost ecstatic, rutting deep into you. “I’ll do whatever you say. I’ll stuff my mouth with your pills. Please, just stay with me.”

Staring at the white ceiling, you bit your tongue so hard your mouth filled with blood. You’d survive this. You’d get him behind the bars again. 

You wouldn’t stay.

[purple-dahlias]

“What’s the point?” for recovering!au?

thank you for the request! sorry this has taken such a long time to get out,  but it’s here now! 

trigger warning for eating disorders, relapse and hospitals  

“You heading for the OR?” Connor asks, falling into step beside Ava as they exit the lifts together.

“Yep,” confirms Ava. “Got another CABG scheduled. Been almost practically back to back all afternoon. How about you?”

“Surprisingly, I’m free now. Patient cancellation.”

“Lucky you,” Ava grins as her phone pings in her pocket.

Taking it out, her eyes scan the notification, smile dying on her lips.

“Ava?” Connor asks, concern filling his voice as he eyes the expression on Ava’s face.

“It’s Sarah,” she manages, the words heavy in her mouth. “She collapsed in the ED.”

“Again?” Connor remembers the last time this happened, a little over four months ago.

Ava nods, knowing exactly what Connor is thinking. “I have to go,” she says finally. “Could you—“

Connor doesn’t let her finish her sentence.

“Go,” he says, placing a hand over her shoulder. “I’ll take your surgery.”

“Thank you,” Ava whispers, gratitude in her eyes as Connor waves her thanks away, nudging her gently back in the direction of the lifts.

“Let me know how she’s doing, yeah?” She hears him call as she steps into the lift, anxiety filling every inch of her.

The last three or so weeks had been insanely busy, for both Ava and Sarah, what with the way their shifts had worked out. It had meant in the end the two had always ended up missing each other, with one leaving as the other arrived, or one returning when the other was preparing to go. And with that, there had been little communication, other than perhaps a passing hello in the corridor, a kiss goodbye, or a hug before having to get out of bed at some ungodly hour. So having this knowledge, and with what she had just learnt, Ava knew this was a red flag. She knows almost exactly why Sarah had collapsed, and it’s hard for her not to blame herself.

Maybe, she thinks, if she had made more of an effort to ask, had paid more attention, had passed over some of her surgeries or post-ops to Connor, anything so that she could have been there more, she might have seen the signs.

She hopes, oh how she hopes she is wrong, and that this is completely unrelated, and that she is blowing this out of proportion, that there is some other, alternative reason.

But she just can’t shake the sick feeling that pools in her stomach as she exits the lifts beyond the Emergency Department.

She’s wracking her brain, trying to think of any rhyme or reason why this could have happened, if indeed it is what she thinks it is: the thought she just can’t seem to rid her mind of, the one that she keeps coming back to.

“Where is she, Maggie?” Ava asks, on seeing the charge nurse.

“Treatment four,” she hears, and doesn’t stick around for any more, heading straight there, heart beating at what she knows is well beyond the normal rate.

Ava pulls back the curtain to find April adjusting an IV line, while Natalie scrolls through what must be Sarah’s test results on her iPad, concern written across her face.

But her eyes fall on Sarah, lying there, looking so small and frail in her hospital gown.

“What happened?” Ava demands, and April leads her outside, just beyond the curtain, with Natalie following.

“Natalie called her down for a consult. Things were okay until she collapsed right there in front of the patient. Scared us all half to death,” April informs her softly.

“You might want to see these,” Natalie says, and Ava doesn’t miss the sadness in her tone as Natalie hands her the tablet.

It’s just what she had thought they would show, and Ava shakes her head, blinking back tears as she sees how much damage had been done, how much progress had been reversed in just 3 short weeks.

“According to her charts it looks like she’s missed her last two appointments with Dr Richardson. Did you know things were bad with her?” Natalie asks, a hand to Ava’s shoulder, and Ava feels like the worst person in the world.

“No,” she hears herself say, though it doesn’t sound at all like her voice.

This is all your fault. If you had paid more attention, this wouldn’t have happened.

“Ava,” she hears Natalie, noting how the doctor had switched to the voice she often heard her use with paediatric patients. “None of this is your fault.”

It’s as though she can read her mind.

“But it is. Sarah is supposed to be my responsibility,” Ava hates the way her voice sounds, broken, as she runs a hand through her hair.

“Some things you can’t control,” April says beside her. Ava knows she means well, but it’s all just wrong and backwards. Because for Sarah, this was all about control. Ironic, really.

“For now,” Natalie begins, that coaxing voice back, “you should just be with her.”

Ava just nods, letting the curtain fall behind her as April and Natalie take their leave.

She takes a shuddering breath and drags the stool to Sarah’s bedside, where she sits, taking hold of the thin, limp hand of her girlfriend.

“Ava?” Comes a voice, weak beside her, and Ava swears that if she wasn’t a cardiothoracic surgeon, she would have thought her heart had stopped.

“I’m right here, Sarah,” Ava tells her, squeezing her hand gently.

“Where am I?” Sarah asks, a little groggily.

“In the ED. April said you fainted.”

“Oh,” returns Sarah, her voice small, panic filling her face as she notices the IV line in her hand.

“Hey, hey, relax,” Ava croons, taking hold of both Sarah’s hands when she sees how distressed she is. “It’s just some fluids to help give you your strength back. You need them, okay bokkie,” Ava continues, using the pet name.

“No, I don’t! What’s the point?” Sarah cries out, every word punctuated with an agony that pierces Ava’s very soul.

“Nothing I do will work and I’m just so tired. I’m a psychiatrist. I know this is bad! I shouldn’t be having this problem. Ava you know I try, but…” Sarah trails off, and Ava can’t help but notice the way Sarah runs a finger over her clavicle, a subconscious habit she had.

“Sarah, I can’t even begin to imagine how hard this must be for you,” Ava begins after a pause. “But—“

“Then don’t,” Sarah grits out, harshly, cutting Ava off. “Please, Ava, just go,” Sarah practically begs, bunching up the thin bed sheets and turning to face away from her.

Ava sits there, a few moments longer, until it becomes clear that this won’t be going anywhere, that Sarah isn’t ready to talk.

Twisting her hands, she lets out a sigh she hopes is mostly silent.

“Okay,” she says, willing the heaviness in her voice not to be too pronounced. Ava stands and moves to adjust Sarah’s pillow just how she likes it, the only way she can think of right now to give Sarah a little more comfort. “But Sarah,” Ava gently tells her, “I’m here for you, okay. No matter what. Please know that.”

There’s no response. Not even a shift in the bedsheets. And if the machine monitoring Sarah’s vitals wasn’t still beeping quietly in the background, well, Ava doesn’t want to give much rise to that particular thought.

With a final kiss to the top of Sarah’s head, a last attempt to let her know she is here, Ava turns to leave, drawing the curtains back around Sarah.

“Well?” Natalie asks her from her position at the nursing station, breaking away from a conversation with Maggie.

Ava just shakes her head. She doesn’t know quite what to say. What does one say? Besides, Ava really doesn’t wan to have to talk right now. With anyone. All she can think about is how much she had let Sarah down. How she should have been paying attention. And now she couldn’t even get Sarah to talk, much less get to the bottom of what triggered this.

-

It’s windy up on the balcony, and the evening is drawing in as Ava stares out onto the city of Chicago, a hundred thousand lights twinkling below. There’s still no more word from Sarah herself. Only that Ava can gather loud and clear she wants to be left alone. Which is especially hard to know.

“Hey,” a voice says beside her, making Ava jump. The fact she didn’t even hear him coming is a telltale sign something is wrong. Ava normally never misses anything.

“Your CABG went off without a hitch,” he begins lightly, trying to gauge Ava’s mood.

“Wish I could say the same about other things,” Ava deadpans, staring off into the distance, her focus on nothing in particular.

“How’s Sarah?” Connor frowns, leaning against the railing.

“Nat messaged to say she’s being transferred up to a bed to stay overnight for observation. She still doesn’t want to see me.” It comes out a little cold, detached. And honestly, Ava’s just feeling more than a little numb right now, so that assessment it’s about right.

“She’ll come ‘round,” Connor assures, putting an arm around Ava, who leans into him.

“Ooh my ears are burning,” comes a familiar voice from behind.

“Oh, hey Nat,” Ava manages a weak, sort of washed-out smile.

“How are you holding up?”

How was she? How did one answer that? How was someone dealing with all of this supposed to be?

Connor’s phone buzzes, breaking the silence.

“It’s Latham,” he says, checking.

“You’d better go,” Ava tells him, grateful for the diversion.

“It’s gonna be okay, Aves. You’re gonna get through this. You both are.”

“Thanks,” Ava sniffs as Connor pulls her into a tight hug, wanting desperately to believe his every word.

And then he’s gone.

“How’s Sarah,” Ava asks, eyes trained on the spot Connor had just vacated. She’s almost afraid to hear the answer.

“Pretty much the same. I’ve paged Dr Charles though. I hope you don’t mind?”

Ava shakes her head sadly. “Maybe he’ll have better luck than me.”

“Oh, Ava,” Natalie hums, holding her close, up there on the balcony. She doesn’t even care that Nat is probably using some of the tactics she uses on kids down in the ED. Because all Ava wants to do is believe things will be okay.

“How about I drive you back to yours so we can grab some things for Sarah?” Natalie suggests, filling the silence, smoothing Ava’s hair.

Ava agrees with a small nod. That seems like a logical suggestion. And in any case, she’s not sure she should be driving herself anywhere right now.

“Great,” Natalie says softly, her arms still safely around Ava. “And Ava, I promise you: everything will work out. It may not seem like it right now, but it will.”

There’s a fierceness in her voice, and Ava just clings to her. She wants to believe her. Wants it to be true with her whole heart. Because it has to be.